#wine doesn’t smell like it taste good

[javiscigarette]

In the Middle of the Night

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: In the middle of the night, Joel is wide awake and you're moaning in your sleep

Warnings: no use of y/n, established relationship, pwp, fingering, (consensual) somnophilia, Joel’s pov, him talking you through it ofc, filthy but so much fluff, Joel is just so in love ugh

w/c: 4.4k

a/n: not sure what came over me with this one but omg I had fun with it and I’m now obsessed with writing from his pov. As always, I'm so greatful for everyone who reads and interacts with this, plsss let me know if you like it and if I should write a part 2 hehehe

my masterlist

Joel has never been good at falling asleep at a reasonable time. But he doesn’t really mind staying up when you’re sleeping so peacefully next to him. 

He’s lying on his back on the left side of your bed, one arm bent and resting on the pillow above his head with the other one draped over your shoulders. You’re curled into his side, your cheek smushed against his chest, small, warm puffs of air diffusing across his bare skin with each deep and steady breath you take. 

He tried to fall asleep when you did a few hours ago, but the scenes from earlier that night played on a constant loop in his head keeping him wide awake. Visions of you across from him at the dinner table, head tilted back leaving your neck exposed for his viewing as you laughed at his stupid joke. The fresh memory of him pinning you against your front door as soon as the two of you stumbled inside, kissing you hard and tasting the wine on your tongue as you moaned into his mouth. He keeps coming back to the specific image of being buried deep inside of you, your heels digging into his back and his large palm pressed over your mouth in a feeble attempt to stop at least some of the noise from traveling through the thin walls to your neighbor’s apartment. But the dents and scrapes in the paint on the wall behind your headboard are clear evidence of those failed attempts. 

After spilling inside of you and sending you over the edge for a third time that night, he had barely managed to get you in the shower. Once there, your soft moans echoed in the steamy bathroom as he took his sweet time pulling one more orgasm from you with two fingers sliding languidly in and our of your sore and swollen pussy. 

“Need lotion” you had mumbled as he dried you off with a fluffy towel. He chuckled and intercepted your reach for the bottle of lotion, picking it up himself instead. He had to practically carry you out to the bed, where he smoothed his warm hands all over your body, rubbing the lavender lotion into nearly every inch of your skin. You were already snoring softly by the time he finished. 

And now he’s here, watching your curtains flow gently in the breeze from the open window as you sleep peacefully right next to him, the smell of lavender and the cool autumn air relaxing both his mind and body.  

You always kept your bedroom cool, especially when Joel was with you. Joel always radiates heat, but he was a human furnace in the bed next to you. And It wouldn’t be as bad if he didn’t insist on cuddling throughout the night, subconsciously reaching out in his sleep and pulling you in closer every time you started to stray away until you woke up sticky with sweat. Joel doesn’t care, though. He doesn’t mind the press of your tacky skin against his and in fact, he craves it when you’re not with him. 

The streetlight right outside your bedroom window filters in through the curtains that are rustling in the breeze, slivers of pale light briefly illuminating different areas of your room. He tries to commit it all to memory: the makeup and jewelry cluttered on your vanity, the same vanity that he bent you over two weeks ago and made you watch as he fucked you until your legs were jelly and you could barely stand, the tight dress that he practically tore off your body earlier that evening now bunched up in a small heap on the floor in the corner, the various knickknacks and trinkets on the small bookshelf in the corner of the room, the seemingly ever growing collection of candles on your dresser. 

He’s only been in here a handful of times. The two of you usually end up at his house where you can take advantage of being as loud as you want. But your apartment in the city had some practical advantages. Like tonight, where after a little too much red wine at dinner, neither of you were in any condition to drive back to his house. So, the only option was to walk the few blocks back to your apartment, both you giggling like idiots with his arm wrapped protectively around your waist and his jacket draped over your shoulders. 

He studies the pictures on your wall too. There’s the framed photos from the trips you’ve told him about, pictures from the mountains in Colorado where you nearly passed out from the reduced oxygen levels, and the picture of the Amalfi coast taken from the boat on which you unfortunately discovered for the first time just how prone you are to seasickness. His gaze lingers on the pictures of you with your friends and family, your infectious smile making you the center of attention in all of them.  

Then his mind starts to wander, maybe a bit too far, but he doesn’t exactly want to stop thinking about how everything would fit in his house. He thinks about your candles on top of his dresser, how he would move around the furniture in his room so that he could fit your vanity in a spot that catches the most natural lighting. He imagines your framed pictures hanging in his hallway or propped up on the shelves in his living room. A subtle smile spreads on his lips when he envisions your soft blankets spread over his bed, and his heart beats just a little faster at the thought of the two of you sharing a closet, your clothes mixing with his. He wonders if his room would smell like your lavender lotion too. 

He's pulled back to reality when you make a small, soft noise. He looks down at you, worried that he somehow woke you up. But your breathing is still steady and your face is peaceful and relaxed. He figures that you’re probably in the middle of a dream and he wonders what it’s about. A small, maybe selfish, part of him hopes that it’s about him. Then you start to shift, and he lifts his arm from your shoulders, giving you just enough room to roll over onto your other side until your back is pressed against his side instead. 

He fixes your eyes now on your side profile, the shadows and light from outside dancing across your face. He trails his gaze from your hairline to the slope of your nose to the perfect curve of your slightly parted lips. He tries to memorize all of that too, though most of it is already ingrained deep in his brain. 

He stares shamelessly for another minute or two until you make another small sound, another signal that you’re dreaming. Except this time he doesn’t have to wonder too much what it’s about, not with the way that you push your hips back against him with another small sound that sounds all too familiar following in quick succession. 

Joel’s entire body tenses as he looks at you, his cock already twitching underneath your linen sheets. He stays completely still, watching you and waiting to see if you’ll move again. After a few painstakingly long seconds later, you make another sound. And he’s not sure if it’s all in his head but it sounds almost like his name. 

Logically, he knows that he should probably just let you sleep. You get just as grumpy as he does if you don’t get your full 8 hours. But after a few more seconds, another sound slips out of you, a desperate garble of “Joel” much clearer this time but still thick with sleep. 

And that’s his greenlight. 

A soft smile tugs at his lips as he starts to scoot down the bed, movements slow and calculated as not to rouse you. He carefully moves his arm from where it’s draped over your shoulders and slides it under your neck instead before rolling over onto his side. He closes the centimeter gap between your bare bodies until your soft skin is pressed against his under the safety and warmth of your sheets and blanket. 

He snakes his other arm around your waist, pulling you even closer so that your ass is pressed firmly into the cradle of his pelvis. He buries his face in your hair that’s cascading down the side of your neck, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. He skates his fingers mindlessly over your stomach, his own skin heating up just at the sensation of your soft skin under his fingertips. He tries to resist the urge to roll his hips up against you. He wants to stay in this calm peacefulness for as long as possible and he’s fully aware that once he starts, there’s a very slim chance that he’ll be able to stop. 

But his efforts are thwarted when you push your hips back again, unconsciously grinding your ass against his half-hard cock with another sweet sound slipping from your lips. He sighs quietly against your neck but stays still, exerting the last ounce of his self-control. 

As if moving on their own accord, his fingertips slide further down until they’re ghosting over the crease of your thigh. He’s eternally grateful that you refused to put on any clothes before falling asleep, which, now in hindsight, was clear foreshadowing of what’s currently happening. 

He moves his whole hand between your thighs to cup your sex and dips two fingertips between your folds and mouths a silent “fuck” at the copious amount of slick that quickly coats them. Still in the grips of deep sleep, you shift your legs to give him better access. He smiles. Your body is always so receptive to his touch. 

With a soft groan, he gently prods at your dripping entrance, taking his time to feel how swollen you still are from when you were stretched so perfectly around him just a few hours ago. But you interrupt him with a soft whimper, your hips moving against him once again and he chuckles silently. Still so needy and impatient as ever, even in your sleep. 

But he can’t deny you, he never really can. He’s wrapped so tightly around your finger that he’d do anything you’d ask of him in a heartbeat without a single second thought. It’s almost worrisome, how easily he caves into you, how you wipe every rational thought clean out of his mind, how in just a matter of a few days  you so easily managed to knock down the walls around his heart that he spent decades building. But all those thoughts just fade into noise when he’s with you. Especially with you like this. 

So, he gathers a generous amount of your wetness on his fingers and drags them up to your clit. Your body immediately reacts with a jolt of your hips and a louder moan. Joel curses under his breath when you back your ass up against him even further, his length now fully hard pressing against your bare ass, precum starting to slowly seep from his tip and smear against your soft, supple skin. 

He trails his fingers back to your entrance. Forehead pressed against the nape of your neck With a long sigh, his breath warm and humid on the back of your neck, he slowly sinks one in finger.  His eyes slip closed and his eyebrows draw together as he slowly drags his finger in and out of your dripping hole. He nearly whimpers when he adds a second finger, your walls fluttering and slick leaking down his fingers to his knuckles. “Fuuuck, baby” Joel whispers his lips just barely brushing your skin as your walls clench around him.

He works you open on his two thick fingers – not that you really need it after taking his cock like that earlier. But he’s obsessed with the sleepy sighs and soft moans you’re making. And he’s barely aware of the fact that he’s now moving his hips, gently rolling them against your ass in a subconscious attempt to relieve the pressure in his groin. He pants against your neck, already feeling so delirious and drunk on you and your body like a horned up teenager. He’s never felt this way with anyone else, so affected by you. He can hardly control himself when he’s with you, it’s like he’s a raw, exposed wire and you’re the spark that sets him ablaze in an instant. 

He curls his fingertips and the way your hips immediately rock back lets him know he’s there. Your moans are more frequent and just a bit louder as he strokes your spot, a fresh wave of your wetness gushing around his fingers and dripping down to his palm. But he doesn’t want to wake you up yet, not when he has every intention of waking you up when he’s buried balls deep inside of you. 

So he exercises his last bit of self-control, sliding his fingers out and dragging them back up to your clit again, tracing a few more lazily circles before pulling his hand away completely. 

With his fingers and palm soaked in your slick, he tilts his hips back just enough to make enough room to wrap his hand around his cock. He hisses quietly through clenched teeth at the contact, and he can’t resist a few strokes, spreading your arousal up and down his length. After a few passes, he moves his hand from his cock to your top leg, cupping the back of your knee and pushing it up til it’s bent at a 90 degree angle. Now with unobstructed access, he fists himself again and lines himself up with your dripping entrance. 

He sinks in nice and slow, letting out a deep groan from the back of his throat. He drapes his arm around your middle, pulling you in close to him as he moves his hips with shallow thrusts and noses along your neck, pressing kisses along the underside of your jaw and sighing heavily once he’s nestled all the way inside you.  

The thought of staying still just like this, falling asleep to the feeling of your slippery walls squeezing him so tight like this crosses his mind for a brief moment. But you soon start to stir in his hold and the sound of your sudden, sharp inhale signals that you’re regaining consciousness. 

He presses his lips to the back of your neck while he patiently waits for you to come to your senses. It takes a couple seconds for you to regain control of your limbs, and when you do, you reflexively try to move from his grasp, but he tightens his arm around your middle and holds you in place. “Shh, baby” Joel whispers in your ear. “I’ve gotcha” 

You immediately surrender, relaxing in his hold with a quiet hum. His chest is pressed against your back, heat radiating off of him and putting you on the verge of sweating. But it feels so safe the broad expanse nearly completely encompasses you like he’s shielding you from the rest of the world. But you don’t have much time to focus on that, the feeling of the tip of his cock nudging at your cervix creating much more pressing needs. 

“Dreamin’ of me, weren’t you?” Joel asks, his voice a barely audible whisper. You answer with a sleepy whine as you move to grind your hips down, nudging his cock half an inch deeper. “Sound so sweet moanin’ in your sleep” he continues, his hand slides up from your stomach to your chest, cupping one breast and gently rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “moanin’ my name.” 

You whimper and wiggle your hips as he presses a kiss just behind your ear. “Joel” you mumble, pushing your hips back in an attempt to get him to move. “Yeah, sounded just like that” Joel grunts as he starts to slowly pull out, his warm breath fanning over the shell of your ear, undoubtedly sending tingles rushing down your spine. 

He keeps his arm under your neck, your head resting on his bicep while his forearm crosses your chest, his hand gripping your shoulder. He has you in a loose headlock, grunting softly near your ear as he fills you up again and groaning when he bottoms out once again. 

“Always so fuckin’ tight and wet no matter how many times I stretch you out, huh? Always so ready for me.” 

All you can manage is a pathetic whimper while you bring a hand up to hold onto his forearm across your chest. He keeps a slow pace, his breath hitching in your ear every time he bottoms out. You feel unbelievable wrapped around him like this, white-hot tingles shooting all the way up his spine at the sensation of his cockhead dragging along your warm, wet walls as you clamp down around him like a vice. 

He wants to savor it, wants to relax into this moment for as long as possible. But you’re needy,  he can feel it now with the way you're squeezing him and practically sucking him back in every time he pulls out. And his own heady desperation is starting to cloud his vision as he slowly fucks you, your tired body loose and pliant under his touch. He needs to make you come again, needs to feel you shake and squirm, needs you to make him come. 

With a soft groan, he allows himself to start moving faster. His lips easily find the junction of your neck and collarbone where he immediately starts nibbling and gently sucking at the thin skin, claiming what’s rightfully his and shivering when you tighten around him. 

He tries his best to keep a gentle pace, not wanting to jostle you around too much. Except your breathy whimpers are so sweet and your sleepy whines sound so angelic that he can hardly keep it together. 

He tightens his grip on your shoulder, the muscles in his arm flexing gently under your palm as he locks you in place and starts to really fuck you. He moves his hand from your beast, smoothing his calloused palm down your side to your ass then palms at your cheek, grabbing a few greedy handfuls before pushing it up to give himself more space to move. 

Goosebumps break out across his skin when you let out a long, drawn out moan and dig your nails into his forearm, leaving crescent-shaped dents in his skin. A not-so-small part of him hopes that you break the skin so he can admire the small purple and red marks in the morning. 

“Goddamnit,  baby” Joel pants as he snaps his hips, filling you to the brim. “You feel so fuckin’ good. So perfect like this.” Every few thrusts he pauses when he’s all the way inside and grinds against you, his eyes rolling back his skull when you push your hips back at the same time, multiplying the intended effect. . 

“S’this what you were dreamin’ of?” Joel rasps, his lips ghosting over your jaw. “Huh, baby? S’your little pussy so needy that you can’t help but dream about me fillin’ it up?” You answer in the form of a moan with your walls pulsating around him. He keeps his steady pace, the slick sounds of him sliding in and out of you floating around in your quiet bedroom.

“Attagirl” Joel sighs when your moans start to get louder. Your hips are starting to buck and swivel, and your chest heaves with every ragged breath you take. He places hot, open-mouthed kisses on every inch of skin he can access until he reaches the nape of your neck again. You whine his name, sleepy and desperate, and he shudders at the sound. 

 “Just keep takin’ it, baby, just like that. Doin’ such a good job.” he whispers. “My good girl…always takes everything I give her. Even in her fuckin’ sleep” 

Then suddenly your hand is on top of his where it’s resting on your ass. You grip his palm and move his hand to where it was a couple of minutes ago between your thighs, only letting go when he presses two fingers to your clit and starts tracing those lazy circles again. His cock twitches inside of you, the thought of you knowing exactly what you want and demanding it, even when you’re still half asleep, drives him crazy. 

With his eyes still closed and eyebrows drawn together, he sucks a sharp breath through clenched teeth and focuses on both the feeling of effortlessly gliding in and out of your sweet pussy combined with the feeling of your clit pulsing under his fingertips. 

He fucking loves it. There’s not a single scenario that he could possibly conjure up in his head where he would ever be tired of this. He takes pride in it too, knowing exactly how to reduce you to a squirming mess in less than five minutes, or how to take his time, slowly breaking you down until every thought in your brain is replaced with just JoelJoelJoel. He knows your body better than his own: the way you arch your back when he tweaks your nipples just right, how you melt when he kisses that one spot on your neck, the exact patterns he needs to trace on your clit to get you to come in nearly 30 seconds. 

That is all committed to memory. All of it’s burned to his brain and plastered underneath his eyelids. And just like clockwork, after a few seconds of his fingers pressed against your clit, your thighs start to shake around his hand. 

“Ohh there you go, sweetheart” Joel groans, both his fingers and his hips moving faster. “C’mon, baby” he urges, voice strained and tight in his throat as he tries to keep himself together. “Cum on my cock, need to f-fuck oh god need to feel it, baby. Know you’re close, angel just give it to me.” 

That’s all it takes to send you flying over the edge. He holds you impossibly tight against him as you tremble and shake, his pace not faltering even once. He’s on cloud fucking nine with you whimpering and moaning his name while your walls pulsate and choke his cock. His breath is hot and humid against your sweaty skin, panting as he tries to stave off his own release for as long as possible. 

“Fuckin christ, babygirl” he growls, as he fucks you through it, not giving you a single chance to catch your breath. “That’s it, such a good fuckin girl. Just like that. Keep squeezin’ me just like that, angel” 

Even with the way you're milking his cock, squeezing him for all that he’s worth, he thinks he could last for at least another minute or two. That is until you snake an arm up and reach blindly behind you, your hand immediately finding his hair, fingers locking around the tousled strains and pulling. He chokes out a gasp, the tingling sensation traveling from his scalp all the way down to the base of his spine. His hips stutter and he can only handle a couple more uneven thrusts before he pulls out. His cock twitches where it’s pressed against your lower back as he spills hot ropes of cum onto your skin with shameless, breathy whimpers. He keeps rocking his hips with small movements, grinding his cock into the wet mess on the small of your back, extending the euphoria until his limbs are jerking from the sensitivity. 

His forehead is pressed against your neck once again, his warm breath diffusing down your back as he pants a breathless “Jesus christ.”

You hum weakly next to him, melting in his arms as you sleep starts to creep back into your body once again. He keeps holding you tight against him as you both catch your breath. 

“Were you awake that whole time?” you ask quietly after a moment of silence. Joel chuckles and squeezes you even tighter in his arms. 

“Mhmm. Told you you were moanin’ in your sleep” 

Even with his eyes closed in the dark room, he can see the frown you’re sporting clear as day in his head. You try to turn over to look at him, but he keeps you in place. 

“You have work in the morning, why didn’t you say anything?” you ask. “Could’ve made things more comfortable for you, I know your old-man back doesn’t like my mattress.” 

Joel rolls his eyes and pinches your thigh, making you yelp and giggle.  

“Couldn’t be more comfortable than this even if I tried, sweetheart” he whispers. “Now go back to sleep.” 

“Can’t sleep with the human fireplace glued to me” you whisper back. “And I’d love if I didn’t have cum stains on my sheet in the morning” 

Joel rolls his eyes again but can’t suppress the stupid grin creeping up on his face. He reluctantly lets you go, sliding his arm out from under your neck and letting you roll over onto your stomach. He takes extra care to lift the blanket and pushes it down to your thighs, trying his hardest to not stain your precious sheets. You turn your head to face him, but your eyes are still closed, your face so sleepy where it’s squished against the pillow, your lips curved in a gentle, sated smile. His heart feels like it could burst right out of his chest. 

He leans over to place a sweet kiss to your hairline before carefully crawling out of the bed. He hisses at the cool air swirling around his hot skin as he pads to the bathroom. He comes back with a damp washcloth and cleans you up and then himself before crawling back into the bed. 

He pulls the blankets back up and makes sure you’re all tucked in before settling on his side, facing you. He doesn’t take you back in his arms, not yet. He’ll find you in his sleep. But he does hook one of his ankles around yours, the small amount of touch that you’ll always allow. Exhaustion is finally starting to settle into his bones as he studies your features like he’s going to be tested on them in his dreams. His eyelids finally feel heavy and he lets them close, his breathing quickly falling into a deep, steady pace. 

He’s nearly fully asleep when he hears the soft sound of you whispering again. 

“Oh and we’re gonna have to reenact the dream I was having when we wake up. Was really nice.”

Joel grunts, his cock already starting to stir once again.  Who needs sleep anyway? 

Thank you for reading :)) hope you enjoyed it!!

#Joel miller smut #Joel miller x f!reader #Joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou fic #Joel miller #pedro pascal characters

[calummss]

Sweet Ultraviolence | Klaus Mikaelson

masterlist

summary: it was no secret that klaus mikaelson felt for you, but you didn’t, maybe deep down but not enough. so how do you react when the nortorious serial killer gives you the most fucked up surprise?

pairing: fem! reader x klaus mikaelson

words: 4k

a/n: scene taken from the sexiest ahs scene ever. here’s a link !! probably my favourite klaus fic i have written. also smut!! i’ve written smut?? i’m not a smut writer so if it’s bad pretend it never happened….

‘Just because I agreed to this doesn’t mean it means anything.’

‘This date?’

‘Don’t call this a date.’

‘Why?’ Klaus asked,grabbing his wine glass, his gaze sitting on your frame as he sipped the red liquor. ‘We’re at my house, eating a lovely dinner with a beautiful girl. By my definition it is a date.’

‘Please,’ you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you felt the warmth of the fireplace hit your bare skin, engulfing you in a hug. ‘You are fully aware of why I am here so let’s not read something into this.’

Sitting at a table with Klaus Mikaelson was not as romantic as it sounded. The dark walls pushing in on you, a dark gaze staring at you, darkness that made up the house. Even the plate of meat, potatoes and vegetables seemed less appetising as they normally would. Maybe it was the blood seeping out of the flesh that made you feel agitated, maybe it was the notorious vampire serial killer that so desperately wanted you to be his.

‘Still,’ he paused for a second, ‘you came.’

You yourself took a sip of the white wine you had mixed with sparkling water, the subtle bitterness biting your tongue, the warm fuzzy feeling of the alcohol leaving a familiar taste of comfort.

‘Klaus, sometimes I think you are so delusional, like how are you functioning?’

‘I function just fine, love.’

‘Get me another one of these,’ you held up your glass, lifting it to your red painted lips to drown the last drop of its contents. ‘And maybe I’ll continue to act like I am loving this dinner date from hell.’ You gave him a wide grin displaying your obvious sarcasm.

Klaus smirked, his twisted smile making your stomach churn. This would be a lot easier if he weren’t attractive but of course the maniac looks like he was carved by Lucifer himself.

‘That’s a tempting offer.’

He barely lifted his hand signalling the compelled boy that he wanted something. ‘Another white wine with sparkling water for my ravishing date, Taylor.’

‘Wow,’ you jested in fake astonishment, ‘so intimidating. Raising your hand, getting whatever you want…do you enjoy it? Getting everything with the snap of your fingers.’

‘Why wouldn’t I?’

‘You compel people to do stuff for you. Don’t you want people to do things because they want to? Care for you?’

‘No one cares about me, love.’ He chuckles, ‘I’m the monster, remember?’

You didn’t reply. You stayed silent, staring at him being the only communication amongst the quiet room, only the cracking of burning wood to be heard. ‘Why do you like me?’ You shoved the potato around your plate, using it to smear the watered down blood across the porcelain.

‘What’s not to like?’ Klaus shrugged his shoulders, leaning back into the chair, the definition of his abs to see seen through the thin material of his shirt.

You looked up from your plate. ‘Just answer the question, please.’

‘You’re like a ray of sunshine on a bad day. When I’m near you I feel you good nature rub off on me—makes me want to stay close. You’re kind even if not to me, you treat everyone the same and give chances to people that probably don’t deserve them. You help when help is needed and disregard yourself for others. You’re beautiful. You smell good, and the fact that I cannot have you makes me want you even more.’

‘I’m not something you can own, Klaus,’

‘I can’t own you love, but I can own your heart if you let me.’

Again you stayed quiet, scared that if you speak he could hear the smitteness in your tone, knowing that for a second he had gotten under your skin.

‘Admit that you are drawn to darkness, Y/n,’ his eyes stared into the most inner part of your soul, ‘even the purest of heart are drawn to it.’

‘I never said I’m not, Klaus,’ you took a sip of wine. ‘I like darkness. The unknown, the excitement…Just because I don’t like your darkness Klaus doesn’t mean I’m denying my thoughts or feelings.’

‘Keep telling yourself that.’

‘You aggravate me.’ You downed the rest of your drink again, setting it down with a loud thud.

‘Makes you more attractive.’

‘Taylor?’ You smiled over at the boy Klaus had compelled for tonight’s dinner, that what you had hoped anyway, ‘Do you by chance have any earplugs, sweetheart?’

Taylor’s eyes grew wide, pressing his lips together as he turned his head towards Klaus for further instructions. Klaus felt his stare but continued to stare at you with a grin.

‘What are you staring at, Taylor? Get the lady some earplugs.’

Taylor left soon after, leaving the two of you alone which made you chuckle at Klaus who didn’t deny your request.

‘What?’ He asked plainly.

‘Nothing.’ You cut a piece of the steak and let the blood coat your tongue, continuing to feel his eyes linger on your for the rest of the night.

A week later and you were back at school. Vacation was over and reality hit. Thankfully you were seeing Mr. Saltzman today. A class you could pay a little less attention to since you sat in the back of the room, daydreaming away. You were too busy talking to friends that you didn’t realise a pair of eyes that stalked you from afar. Eyes watching your every move.

Finishing up the conversation you said your goodbyes to Dana and Heather and turned around to head towards the gym but when you took a step back you collided with a body making them stumble and spill their drink on the floor.

‘Oh my god, I am so sorry. Are you okay?’ You reach out to help Connor find his balance but he slapped away your arms, letting out a deep growl.

‘What is your fucking problem, bitch?!’

‘Excuse me?’ You drew your eyebrows together. It was clearly an accident. Why was he getting so worked up?

‘I said what is your problem?’ He came dangerously close.

‘Hey,’ his friend pulled him back, trying to reassure him that it was an honest accident.

‘You better apologise.’

‘I literally apologised, asshole. How about you pipe down on your ego and take a long second to reevaluate your life? Pathetic.’

Connor’s face turned red, his strength releasing him from his friends grip, his face too close to yours for your liking. ‘I’ve disliked you since I’ve known you, Y/n. Don’t give me more reasons to hate you.’

‘Get a life.’ You laughed out loud.

‘You better watch your back!’

‘Okay, Connor. Will do.’ You called after him as he left the scene,his head turning your way as you cleaned off the few drops of water that caught themselves on your fabric. Chuckling to yourself, you headed the way you were supposed to go and headed towards cheerleading practice, the anger giving you a surge of adrenaline that reassured you that you were going to nail the landing you had failed to complete for weeks.

Klaus had watched the scene from afar, his eyes trailing Connor as he walked past Klaus whose forehead creased, his eyes turning lifeless as he turned around and followed Connor to wherever it was he was heading to.

Practice was good and you were right; you managed to pull off the stunt earning you praise from the coach, letting you know that if you keep up the good work you will be the best cheerleader Mystic Falls ever had. You hated saying it but you lived off of praise. Was there a better feeling than being seen for your hard work and determination? Not really, but that was your opinion. You headed towards the locker room, your red cheer uniform starting to slowly take up some of the sweat from practice. It was late. Everyone went home instead of you. You wanted to perfect the new choreography and stayed long after practice ended. So when you entered the locker room it was dead silent. The squeaking of the locker made you flinch as you placed your water bottle into the side pocket of your bag. You were about to take out your bag to change when you heard the sound of droplets hitting the floor. Wet drops. Only then had you noticed that your feet were also wet. And it wasn’t sweat…it was too much for it to be just that… When you looked up to where the sound was coming from you froze. Staring up at the ceiling just above the lockers, the body of Connor hung from the wall. Broken arms and legs that were twisted inhumane. His intestines spilling from his torso, head hanging from his neck like it was about to fall off. His blood was dripping onto your locker, the smell of blood prominent and not something that could be ignored. As you stared up at him, taking in his lifeless body, a faint smile spread across your lips as you thought back on the scene earlier in the hallway.

‘You like my surprise?’ A voice sounded from behind you and you knew exactly who it was so you didn’t bother to turn around, too fascinated by the body hanging like a spider.

‘You did this?’

You heard his footsteps come closer, his heavy footsteps giving away his exact location whenever he moved, so much that after a few seconds you knew that he was standing right behind you, him too staring at the body.

‘I didn’t like how he talked to you or his lack of respect, his entitlement.’

You rubbed your lips against each other, turning around to slap Klaus across the face, feeling a painful sting across the palm of your hand, grabbing a handful of his shirt and getting up on the bench looking down at him. Vertical wrinkles appeared between his eyebrows, his eyes bigger than before. Fear. Fear that he had fucked up the last chance he had of being with you. Scared that you would never ever look at him again. Fear that he had lost you before he even had you.

You took your finger and slowly dragged it across his face, pulling down his bottom lips as you stared at him. ‘That is the most fucked up thing anyone has ever done for me,’ you stared into his eyes that were still wide, your lack of transparency making him feel sick. ‘That’s so hot.’ You dragged out, taking that fistful of his shirt and crashing your lips onto him, your hands roaming his hair, tugging as you felt him against you. His tongue running across your bottom lip, tasting what he had craved for so long. He continued to place wet kisses down your cleavage, continuing to kiss your legs, holding onto your ankle as he came face-to-face with the blood on your foot. Looking up through his lashes he saw you wipe away a single tear, inhaling the scent of blood before dragging his tongue across the top of your foot, licking the sweet taste of blood. Coming back up to kiss you again, you could feel his hot breath ricochet off your cheeks, his growling making your cunt ache from between your legs as he continued to kiss you.

‘I thought you hated violence.’ He breathed, allowing you to catch your breath.

‘I was wrong.’

‘Does that mean—‘

‘Shut up and kiss me.’

Klaus had never shut up so quickly, pressing his body against yours wanting to be one with you. Ripping off his shirt you felt him against your skin. His fingers curled around the hem of your panties, dragging them down your legs. You curled the finger around your top, ready to take it off but Klaus’ hands shot up to hold them still. ‘Don’t take it off. I want to fuck you in it.’

You suppress a moan as he lowered his head underneath your skirt, feeling his breath on the inside of your thighs, already making your legs tremble. You let out a quiet yelp as you felt his tongue licked your slit, closing his lips around your clit as he started to swirl his tongue around your cunt, sending vibrations through your stomach as you moaned. ‘Fuck,’ your hands grabbed his hair, trying to give yourself some stability. Klaus noticed your legs growing weaker. He picked you up with your legs over his shoulders and laid you down on the blood covered floor, feeling the blood go up your ass. Klaus continued to suck on your clit, concealed groans vibrating against your cunt, the knot in your stomach growing tighter as his tongue focused on your most sensitive spot. You could feel your thighs go numb from holding them up. Your breath becoming shorter the more Klaus dragged his tongue across your cunt, collecting your juices, making you realise you were about to come. You felt your muscles contract, your legs starting to shake as the knot tightened faster than it had ever before.

‘Fuck,’ you pressed air past your lips, ‘please don’t stop.’

Close to coming, Klaus gave one last suck before you felt your stomach explode, squirming underneath him as he continued to flick his tongue over your sensitive clit, making your body shudder with aftershocks.

‘Fuck Klaus, fuck fuck fuck.’

You felt Klaus press a kiss on your cunt before coming out from underneath your skirt, catching your lips so you could taste yoursef.

‘You like this don’t you?’

You nodded.

‘You like the way I touch you?’

You nodded again, feeling his hand make its way down to your cunt again.

‘Stop,’ you breathed, stopping his hand trailing down to your cunt that had craved his touch the moment he stared into your eyes. ‘Let me,’ You slowly dropped to your knees, blood staining them s you reached for his trousers, starting to unbuckle his belt, your fingers slipping off the buckle.

‘What are you doing?’ Klaus let out a suppressed smile, his head hanging low to see your hands undoing his belt, your lips caught between your teeth.

‘I want this.’

‘My cock?’

‘Yes.’ Another deep breath.

‘I thought you hadn't done this before?’

‘I haven’t.’ Having undone his buckle and strap, you grabbed his front pockets and pulled down the rough fabric, the bulge beneath his boxer meeting your eyes, a warm heat spreading through your legs. ‘But how do you know that?’

‘Watching you is my favourite pastime.’

‘You’re fucked up…’

‘So are you, love.’

Taking a gulp, you pulled down his boxers to release his cock that sprang against his stomach. Your breath caught your throat. It’s big. Klaus could feel his pre-cum pumping through him just thinking of your innocent lips tucked around the head of his tip. His chest swelled with air as he trailed his finger down to the base of his cock, twitching under his own touch. Your breath hitched, trying to get as much oxygen into your lungs, as you watched him come towards you, knowing that his size would make it hard to breathe. His hand stroked over his hardened shaft, collecting a small speck of pre-cum. You grabbed his thick pulsing length, a groan leaving his throat as your fingers wrapped around him. You leaned over, carefully licking his tip, slowly building your way to sucking on his head, spitting on it as you wet his pink cock.

‘Fuck,’ Klaus hissed, his dirty blond curls falling back as his hand tangled itself in your hair.

You gagged on his size, but you refused to let go of him, pushing his cock deeper into the back of your throat. Saliva filled your mouth as you focused, moaning against him as he gently started thrust in and out, not wanting to hurt you.

‘So, so eager for me, aren’t you?’ He groaned.

His hands found their way to your hair, pulling your head back, allowing him further access to your throat. A mixture of tears, saliva and cum dribbled from between your lips, but he didn’t seem to mind, deep groans continuing to escape his pink lips. The slight sound of you gagging letting his moans increase in sound.

‘Such a pretty face. Look at you.’ He glanced down, staring into your eyes. ‘You look so good taking my cock. Your first time having a cock down your throat and you’re doing so well.’

A pool of cum was now dripping below you. You couldn’t help it, you were so turned on. You needed him. You need him inside of you soon. Growling, he pushed the head of the shaft past your lips, hitting the back of your throat. Klaus tangled his fingers into your messy hair, eager to push in deeper. You swallowed around his throbbing length, earning a huffed moan. You continue stroking him, your hand gliding along his shaft, your own arousal starring to grow

‘You’re so fucking good at taking my cock,’ he thrusted in and out of my aching mouth. ‘Your first time and you already know how to send me over the edge.’

He pulled out his cock giving you time to breathe. You gasped out for air, before he slid back inside of you. Pre-cum was leaking from his tip, the salty taste mixing in with your own spit. You pulled in your lips around his cock, sucking harder, your tongue pressing up against the head and circling around it. Your lips and throat we’re starting to turn numb, every thrust releasing a tear, every salty tear mixing with the shaft.

‘Look at me,’

Your eyes shot up and stared into his.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’ He moaned loudly before releasing into your mouth; hot jets hitting the back of your throat. ‘Be a doll and swallow.’ He worked hard to suppress a moan, jerking himself through his orgasm. Both of your chests were heavy—you had almost forgotten what breathing felt like. He huffed and dragged his fingers across your face, stroking your cheeks as he stared at you with sparks in his eyes. ‘You did so well, my love.’

Carefully grabbing you by your throat, Klaus pulled you up and swiftly turned you around, his hard cock pressing up against your firm ass as his hands glided over your tits, smearing the blood across your uniform and cleavage; drops of blood running down your chest as you placed your arms behind your head as Klaus started to place kisses again the thin skin on your neck, gently sucking on it, making the hairs on your body stand up.

‘God, you’re so fucking hot.’

You hummed in response, his mouth on your neck making it hard to concentrate.

Klaus brushed the tip of his cock against your slit, teasing you as his moved it along your cunt, adoring the way you whimpered at his slightest touch.

‘I thought you were a gentleman and wouldn’t fuck a girl so shortly after the first dinner.’

‘I’m not a gentleman tonight, my love. You make it hard to control myself,’ Klaus whispered in your ear, sending a chill down your spine that stopped before it reached your toes as he thrusted into your core making you shout out.

‘Oh my god, Klaus. Fuck you feel so fucking good.’

His cock stretched out the walls of your cunt that welcomed him, each thrust slowly adjusting to his size. His lips kept him busy at your neck and collar, leaving trails of dark marks. Hickeys or blood, it was hard to tell. You could feel the blood slowly dry out on your skin, but new blood spread across your body as Connor’s blood continued to seep out of him, letting you and Klaus be covered in his surprise. He began to pump his cock out of you with pace. Your hands grasped his wrist, nails digging into his skin, asking for more. Throwing your head back onto his chest as one hand wrapped around your throat, the other holding your waist.

‘Not satisfied darling?' He smirked against your skin, picking up pace as he pounded into you. Your tits moving with every thrust, the sound of skin filling the locker room.

‘You're so fucking tight.’ He grunted into your neck. 'It's like you were made to take my cock. Look at you, taking my cock like the good girl you are. Who would’ve thought you were so sick and twisted?’ You felt a new bundle tighten in your stomach. ‘Fucking in a school locker room covered in blood. God made me immortal because you are my match. Fuck, you feel so good.’

Those words felt like fireworks exploding inside of your gut.

‘Shit!’ You cried out in ecstasy, as he pulled you into a climax, sending your body over the edge. He kept on thrusting, overstimulating you, until moments later, he reached his high as well, and filled you up with his cum. Klaus stayed inside of you for a few seconds, breathing heavily as a sweat pearl rolled down his forehead, holding you tight in case your legs were to give in.

‘Your body was made for me.’ He huffed. Klaus slid his cock out of you, staring at you, slowly lowering you to the red messy floor, setting you down before laying down next to you, holding his head up with the palm of his hand.

You took a few seconds to breathe, catching your breath as your high started to fade, catching a glimpse of the body up high. ‘You can’t leave that there. I’ve got class at seven in the morning.’ You mused, gazing at Klaus who had blood spread across his chest. He looked so hot you could fuck him again.

‘Don’t worry, love,’ he reached for the bag behind him. ‘I know how to clean up messes. I’ve done this for over a thousand years.’ He placed a cigarette between lips, pulling out a lighter and taking a drag of the hot smoke. He truly was irresistible.

‘Have you killed a lot of people?’

‘Yes.’

You grabbed a knife that laid behind your back, the knife Klaus probably used to cut certain parts of Connor. ‘Would you kill me?’

Klaus took another drag over the cigarette, the smoke making his voice sound deeper than it was. ‘No.’ He shook his head.

‘Would you kill for me?’

Klaus stared up at Connor pointing at him, ‘You have to ask?’

‘There’s this guy, Dean Gabriel. He took away the only person I ever loved.’ You said, staring at the knife, feeling Klaus prop himself up. ‘He violated my sister. Made her feel disgusted, defiled her without her consent. She took her own life because that man ruined her life in twenty minutes. And whilst she is no longer here, he gets to roam around like nothing happened…’

Klaus leaned forward, his voice sounding huskier, ‘Just tell me where he is and he won’t see any more sunrises after I find him.’

Gazing at the knife, you swung your leg over Klaus to straddle him.

‘Promise me he’ll suffer.’ A tear fell down the apple of your cheeks, ‘I want it to be painful.’

‘I promise.’

You lowered yourself to kiss him, your tears mixing with the blood on your face as your heart was finally lighter than it had been for a while. All because of a surprise you enjoyed more than he had anticipated.

#klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson imagines #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson headcanons #klaus mikaelson headcanon #klaus mikaelson blurbs #klaus mikaelson blurb #klaus mikaelson fluff #klaus mikaelson fic #klaus mikaelson fanfiction #klaus mikaelson smut #klaus mikaelson angst #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x you #klaus mikaelson x y/n #tvd headcanon #tvd imagine #tvd #tvd fanfiction #the vampire diares imagine #the originals imagines #the vampire diaries #the originals

[lilislegacy]

Okay, I’ve been thinking about something lately

All the time I see people make statements about Percy that start with “Percy would never…”

Some examples I’ve seen: “percy would never kill someone/something in front of his mom” “percy would never yell at someone he loves” “percy would never get drunk” “percy would never let his child go to camp-half blood”

Now if you passionately believe one of those, hear me out. I’m not necessarily saying I disagree!

I’m saying… who would have ever thought Percy would torture a goddess and choke her on her own poison? And…. enjoy doing it? If someone had said that on tumblr pre-HoH, every single comment and reblog would have been “PERCY WOULD NEVER!!” I mean, who would have thought Percy would do a million things he’s done? He’s done some very not so ‘silly little guy’ stuff. He is an extremely complex character. In his own head and to some people, he’s sweet and fun and silly, but to many people he’s reckless and scary and dangerous. Some people see him as someone who’s very gentle and relaxed, but some people see him as someone who’s quick to get very angry and cause destruction. And the truth is, he’s all of it. It depends on his mood. Consistency does not apply to him in many aspects. He has consistent traits, like loyalty, humor, and bravery, but his actual actions and reactions are NOT consistent. I understand why we think Percy would never do certain things. We think we know based off of his past and his history with his mom, or with Gabe, or with Luke. And I’m not saying I think he would do those things, but unless he specifically states it, we can NOT, ever, infer what Percy Jackson might or might not do.

Like for instance, the drinking thing. I am not saying percy would be a big drinker, if one at all. And he probably does have an aversion to the smell of beer because of how the apartment used to smell when he was young. But we have no evidence that Percy associates all alcohol with Gabe. Alcoholic drinks aren’t just foul smelling hard liquors. There are a million different forms that you can consume alcohol in - some of which don’t even smell like alcohol, and barely taste like it. And in The Chalice of the Gods, it’s said that Sally drinks a glass of wine every night. And Percy thinks Sally hangs the freaking moon. So if his mom drinks, he definitely doesn’t believe that alcoholic beverages = the enemy. And here’s the thing, if Annabeth and Piper and Leo were all drinking and having a good time, like college students do, and they go “Hey Percy, come sit and have a drink with us!” there’s a very good chance that he’s so comfortable with his best friends, and just wants to let loose and be a college kid, that he wouldn’t even think about Gabe. He’d just be like “Sounds fun! Count me in!” But I don’t know. That’s the point. I don’t know. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn’t. I truly think it could go either way. And even if he does drink, maybe he never - not even once - gets drunk. Maybe he’d drink in college and as a young adult, but when he becomes a father one day, he decides he doesn’t want his children to ever smell so much as a drop of alcohol on his breath, and therefore completely stops drinking. Or maybe he doesn’t ever like it, even in college. Or maybe he’s like his mom, and he and Annabeth just have a glass of wine with dinner. Who knows?

Not us. That’s what I’m saying. WE don’t know.

I’m not saying we can’t have headcanons based on what we know about him. I have a million. But the point is, I feel like we can’t try to pretend like we actually know what Percy wouldn’t do. As a fandom, we analyze him and his choices WAY more than he ever thinks about a single choice. He definitely does not think about his life and his actions as much as we do. (I’m not saying that he’s dumb or doesn’t contemplate his life and his actions, but he doesn’t nearly do it to the degree that we do.) Us, we pretend like it’s simple math. (Our first mistake, since math is consistent and full of rules, which is the exact opposite of Percy’s character.) We go “okay luke did this and gabe did this so therefore percy would never do this.” But Percy doesn’t think that way most of the time, especially not in heat of the moment matters. The only thing we 100% know about Percy is that he will always be loyal to his loved ones. But even then, we don’t know what that loyalty will look like. Is it sacrificing himself for someone? Is it murdering the enemy? Is it manipulating someone else? Percy lives in the moment. He doesn’t often think too much before he acts. He just acts. Whether it’s in a life of death situation, or his after school activity for the day. He is unpredictable, like the ocean. It’s one of his defining traits.

Honestly, I think that’s why annabeth is so drawn to him. With everyone else, she can read them super easily and know their next move. But with Percy, she has no idea. Which is frustrating to her, but also exciting. It’s a big part of her initial attraction to him. It’s also why many of us like him so much. We don’t know what’s coming next, and we never know what he will do in a situation. Like, how could we possibly know what he would or wouldn’t do when HE doesn’t even know? Half the time I don’t think Rick himself even knows.

We become so sure that Percy wouldn’t do something because we understand his character so well, right? But I think the truth is, the minute we become certain about what Percy would or wouldn’t do, is the minute we don’t understand his character at all.

Thank you for reading my analysis of Percy on why we can’t reliably analyze Percy

#the only thing we can predict is that he’ll be unpredictable #none of us know what he wouldn’t do #analysis #pjo analysis #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #sally jackson #piper mclean #leo valdez

[holylulusworld]

Dinner for one

Summary: You eat alone. You like it that way. Someone disturbs your dinner.

Pairing: AU!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, grumpy Bucky, pushy Bucky, a hint of fluff, mentions of dead relatives, cheating ex-boyfriend

“A table for one?” The hostess looks you up and down. It’s not the first time you have dined at the fancy restaurant. Every once in a while you treat yourself and go out to have dinner at your favorite Italian restaurant.

“For two,” you splutter and curse yourself for it. “I mean…uh…I brought a friend.” You drop your gaze and take a deep breath. “I meant that I brought my stuffy. Is it okay that he’ll sit with me?”

The hostess eyes you up and down. You can see the wheels in her head spinning. “That’s a little odd, don’t you think?”

You expected her to act like that. “Did you know that in Japan there is a restaurant trying to make dining alone less awkward? They seat patrons with giant stuffed animals if they are alone. I had the opportunity to see it myself.”

She blanches at your response. “Japan? You’ve been to Japan?”

“Yeah, I had the chance to live there for a while. My boyf—” You bite your tongue and shake your head. “I accompanied someone. He wanted to start anew in a foreign land.”

“Cool,” she looks around the restaurant, searching for a table for two. “I can give you the one in the corner. It’s not the best table, and usually taken by a regular. But he won’t come this week. He canceled his usual reservation.”

“That would be very kind of you,” you wring your hands as she guides you toward the table. “I’ll be right back with my…uh…”

“It’s fine,” she says. “I’ll reserve the table for you. You can order in a minute.” You nod and walk back outside to get your fluffy friend.

While you are busy unlocking your car, the hostess talks to the waiter. “Please don’t ask questions and try not to stare. The guest will bring her plushie to keep her company.”

“A plushie?” The waiter furrows his brows. “Oh, like in Japan! I saw something about it on the internet the other day.

“Well, she’s a regular and lonely. For almost a year she has come here every few months to dine alone. She always looks sad. Let’s help her have a great evening.”

“I’d like to have the chicken parmesan, and for dessert, I’ll take the tiramisu.” You close the menu and give the waiter a shy smile.

“Do you want wine for your chicken parmesan?” The waiter asks. He doesn’t look at the huge bear you placed on the free chair at your table, only at you. “Miss?”

“Can I have apple spritzer?” You shyly glance up at the waiter.

“Of course, miss,” he nods and gives you a soft smile. “I’ll get you an apple spritzer. Your food will be ready soon.”

“Hmm…that smells great,” you inhale the scent of your food deeply. “What do you say, big bear? Do you think this is a nice restaurant?” You look at your bear, giggling as it stares back at you with its plastic eyes.

You take the first bite, moaning at the taste. Chicken parmesan always had a special place in your heart. Or rather your stomach. “So good, big bear. I wish you could have a taste too.”

“What do you mean my table is taken?” A grumpy man wildly gestures toward you and your bear. “There is my table, and it’s occupied by some woman with a teddy bear? Are you out of your mind?”

“Sir, Mr. Barnes. We are sorry. Your secretary called and canceled the reservation,” the hostage tries not to lose her composure at the man’s rude behavior. “We can offer you a table for one right over there.” She points toward a spare table.

“Do I look like some lonely loser eating alone?” He cocks his head to glance your way again. “I want my table, and I want it now. Let her sit at the table for one.”

“She has company, Sir,” the hostess tries to stop the man from storming toward your table. He stops right in front of your table, glaring at your bear.

“That’s a teddy bear,” he sneers and dares to poke your bear with his index finger. “Is this some crazy kink?” He looks at you, expectantly. “Lady?”

“I-I,” you stammer. This man angrily stares at you, and you are too scared to answer him. “I…try to eat, Sir.”

“Cat got your tongue?” He cocks his head to look at your food. “I need you to sit at the table for one. I’m waiting for someone…” He sighs as you keep on shoving food in your mouth to avoid talking to him.

“Sir, she’s having dinner. We can have the other table ready for you in a minute.” The hostess tries to get the man to leave you alone. “Please. She only wants to eat in silence.”

“With a bear,” he points out. “Fine, if she won’t sit at the other table, I’ll sit with her.”

“What?” You sniffle as the man tries to take the bear off the chair. “Hey! Don’t touch big bear! Please just leave me alone!” Your lips wobble and tears well up to your eyes. “It’s my birthday and you are ruining it!”

He puts the bear back down and wrinkles his forehead. “Why are you dining alone on your birthday, only a bear by your side.”

You shrug. “I got no one who wants to celebrate with me. My parents are dead, and my boyfriend found someone better and prettier in Japan. I had to start anew and didn’t find friends in this town so far.”

“You’re all alone on your birthday?” His features soften and his shoulders relax. “Hmm…” He looks at the bear on his chair again. “How about we eat together? I’m hungry, and you are alone.”

“I got my bear,” you insist. This man is too pushy and grumpy for your liking. You don’t want to eat with him, nor share your table. “Why don’t you sit at the table for one?”

“I-“ he licks his lips. “I don’t want to eat alone. My date stood me up and…uh…eating alone is…it sucks.”

You look at the man. He holds out his hand, telling you his name as you shyly glance at his offered hand. “I’m James…or Bucky. Uh-you can call me Bucky.”

“Y/N,” you murmur and shake his offered hand. “And that’s big bear. He…”

“He helped you through hard times,” Bucky offers. “Can I sit at your table? Is that alright with you?”

“Uh-sure,” you hold out your hand for your bear. “I can put it in my car and come back.”

Bucky shakes his head. He calls for the hostess and asks for a table for three or more. He grabs the bear and holds out his hand for you. “We can eat at the table over there and your bear can sit with us.”

“What…you,” you sniff. “You want the bear to sit with us?”

“Why not?” He shrugs. “He’s your friend and helped you through hard times. I get it. I have a good friend too. Steve.” Bucky smiles now. “My friend helped me through hard times too.”

You watch him take off his glove to reveal a metal hand. “Oh.” You say and carefully touch it. “I didn’t know.”

“Please have dinner with me,” he asks again. “I know I’m a little loud and grumpy, but I didn’t want to ruin your birthday too.”

You look at your bear tugged under Bucky’s arm. “Okay…” You breathe. "If you want to waste your time on me."

"Doll," he softly says, "spending the evening with you is not a waste of time."

Bucky and you will talk for hours, and enjoy your food.

He tells you about his friend Steve, and you talk about Japan, your ex-boyfriend, and how you got big bear.

When you finally part ways, you promise each other to meet at the restaurant again to spend every Friday evening dining together...

Part two: Dinner for two

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #angst #au!bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic

[ma1dita]

Duddee, now you gotta write luke proposing to trouble, you simply cannot now IBHBHKK

the perfect weekend

a ‘partners in crime’ alternate universe installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

alternate universe masterpost

words: 1.2k (this was too cute the word count escaped me)

summary: alternate universe - the perfect weekend with your perfect boy, even if he thinks otherwise

a/n: happy luke happy luke happy luke FIANCE LUKE 

(posted 2/4/23 unbetad and written on caffeine)

—

This weekend felt like a dream.

Luke took you to your favorite spots that you’ve both carved memories out of in Westport, buying you and his mom gorgeous fresh flowers from the farmers’ market, and he let you drag him around his hometown, spending hours in tiny antique shops and the record store on Main Street. He couldn’t get over how you always found fun in the simple things— even going to the pharmacy to pick up his mom’s medication felt like going to Disney World with you. He couldn’t be more sure of his decision, it was almost inconceivable to spend another day without you being his fiancee.

But luck wasn’t known to be on his side, after all (yeah, thanks dad). Luke’s always had to work harder to get what he wants, and he’s spent the past few years trying to prove himself to your dad—though deep down, he thinks Mr. D doesn’t mind him as much as he makes it seem. (Asking him for his blessing last week over a bottle of wine and a bone-shaking hug scared the wits out of him. He pretended to not notice the god cry.)

Luke just wants to give you what you deserve. And if he needs to spend the rest of his life working on it to prove it, he ought to do it with you by his side.

But he couldn’t think of how.

He tried proposing over dinner last night, with the smell of burnt cookies in the air, but that wasn’t romantic at all, and his hands were shaking so hard he knocked a glass over, prompting you and his mom to fuss over the mess and giggle over his silliness. You both chatted deep into the night, Luke sitting quietly and nodding at two of his favorite women babbling about who knows what (Sometimes he’s still convinced you like his mom more than him, but the way you both take care of him makes him tear up if he thinks too hard about it).

When you went horseriding this afternoon, he set up a picnic for lunch, which was romantic. Chocolate-covered strawberries and sandwiches made by mom, sparkling cider twinkling in the sun. Luke was sure it was going to be great timing— until he realized the ring box fell out of his pocket again, and he slipped in manure trying to rush you back to the house (The sound of your laughter at clumsiness made his heart warm though, and it almost made up for the three hours he looked for the stupid box in the grass that night when you fell asleep with his tiny Star Wars-themed flashlight).

He woke you up early before the sun rose, carrying you out to the car still bundled up in his old Toy Story throw blanket that you wouldn’t let him toss out when he brought it to college (The faded pictures of Buzz and Woody kept a smile on your face, and the memories it brought make you feel connected to 9-year-old Luke). The drive to the beach was short, a sleepy smile on your face as you felt Luke grab onto your hand, sand getting between your toes before he laid out a blanket and the both of you sat down.

Cracking open a redbull for the both of you to sip on, you leaned against his muscled frame, legs hanging over his lap as he wiped the sand off your feet, holding you close as he smiled.

“Good morning, handsome,” you grinned, leaning up for a kiss. Luke obliged, savoring the taste of you mixed with sleep and artificial peach. Your noses nudge against each other before he mumbles a reply, “Good morning, pretty girl.”

“Y’know? I could die happy just like this. I can’t think of anything else that would make this weekend more perfect.”

Luke hummed in contemplation, “I could think of a few things,” he said, as a laugh bubbled from his lips. A noise of confusion rose from you as you reached up to dust lint off his shirt before your knee nudged something hard in his pocket, and your eyebrow raised in mischief.

“Dirty boy, you get me out of your mom’s house and you’re already excited?”

And he laughed the stress off until it freed itself from his bones, pure elation radiating off of him before Eos even had a chance to spread her first rays of light into the sky. 

He’s never needed perfect.

He just needs you.

His hands dug into his pocket, pulling out the ring box that’s caused him so much trouble this weekend. But a life with you should’ve already prepared him for that—and the shock on your face became funnier when you launched yourself on top of him, kicking up sand and taking the air out of his lungs.

You both hit the ground with a loud thud, your nose buried in his chest as he chuckles at your scream. Why was he even worried to begin with? 

“Wait, wait, I still have something to say trouble, don’t jump ahead of the script!”

His hand rubbed your back in gentle strokes as he popped the box open to reveal a delicate golden band with two diamonds juxtaposed against each other sitting pretty on top.

“It’s always been you and me. And I’ve spent hours thinking of what to say, days trying to figure out when the time would be right, months working for a pretty ring that’s perfect for you, years loving you… and well… I want more. I want this, you and me spending the rest of our lives together because I can’t comprehend a future without you. I’d do anything for you trouble, and I don’t believe in much, but I believe in you. Us.”

You’ve cried so hard by this point that you’re convinced it’s so goddamn ugly but Luke smiles at you like he’s been promised immortality. And perhaps he has, with the future you two will have scrolling through his mind like an old film, a house on a hill, kids, a dog, shit—whatever you want as long as he’s with you it’ll be the closest thing to forever he’d have.

“Are you sure?” you said sniffling, and your boyfriend wiped your tears away like he has countless times before, though happy tears are something he’ll have to get used to.

“I literally ruined your proposal, I just thought you were horny, oh my gods…” Whining loudly and laughing, you held your shaking hand out as he sat up to put the ring on your finger.

“Well, we can fix that later. I still have a question to ask, after all.”

Luke grinned when your head nodded rapidly, finally shutting up so you wouldn’t interrupt him again.

“Will you,” he says so surely now, saying your name before continuing, “let me have the honor of spending the rest of our lives together as your husband?”

“Gods, yes. Fucking hell angelface, did you really think I’d say no?”

The both of you laughed through tears and snot as he placed the ring on your left hand, and still, it couldn’t be more perfect.

“A life with trouble is the life for me,” he mused, laughing as you covered his face in kisses before the both of you fell back into the sand a tangle of lips and lust and love.

You jolted up from your fiance’s embrace just as he thought he was going to get lucky, almost emptying your entire wallet of drachmas into the sand-covered blanket to Iris message your friends.

---

(pics are not representative of reader's appearance or gender just a lil visual for funsies)

ask to be added to general/luke taglists!

luke taglist (struck out won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun

#made by ma1dita ♥︎ #trouble!verse #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy series #luke castellan imagine #🪽 #જ⁀➴ jo answers !

[devils-dares]

hi lovely can i get a carmy x college reader where she comes to his for dinner when the dining hall food is bad 🥹🫶🏻

YES YOU CAN

he's grumbling, pouring over his notebook with a cigarette dangling from his lips. he can't get this one recipe right and it's pissing him the fuck off. he's so pissed, in fact, that he doesn't even hear the door unlock. he ends up throwing the notebook across the room, burying the heels of his palms in his eyesockets. suddenly, you feel really bad about coming here to bother him, trying to sneak back out.

"what're you doin' here, sugar?" he asks.

"was just leaving, i didn't wanna bother you." he sighs deeply, standing up from the floor. he walks over to you, taking your hands in his.

"what's going on?" you blink a few times, thinking about how stupid your disruption really is.

"the dining hall food is bad and i haven't really been eating much. came over here cause i was hungry and-"

"you wanted me to cook for ya, sugar?"

"yeah," you frown, "but you don't have to. you're stressed."

"and my girlfriend's hungry," he says, kissing your forehead. he squeezes your hands gently before pulling you into a hug, "what can i make for you?" as you think, he scoops you up and plops you on the counter, standing between your legs. he brushes your hair out of your face, smiling at you. the stress lines seem to melt away from his face the longer he looks at you.

“make me whatever you feel like making,” you say, smiling at him, “long as it’s warm, i don’t care, it’ll be yummy.”

“bear secret menu item?” you giggle at his words.

“you’re just saying that so you don’t have to admit to stealing syd’s ideas.”

“syd can butt the fuck out of my relationship.” he starts taking some ingredients out.

“nothing too elaborate, carm, just messy and warm.”

“are you hungry now or can you wait?”

“i can wait. i brought my bag, i’ve got some reading to do.” he nods. you slip off of the counter, grabbing your book and notes out of your bag while he starts to cook. the smells enter your nose while you study, and your stomach grumbles loudly.

“when was the last time you ate?”

“good food?” he laughs.

“any food, sugar.”

“i had… a cereal bar this morning.”

“that’s all?” you nod. he sighs.

“how about i make you dinner, and then get some stuff ready for leftovers?”

“please?” he laughs softly.

“‘course, princess.” he starts to chop up some veggies as you pull out your books and laptop. immediately, the stress of school comes back, and you find yourself rubbing at your forehead already. as you;’re getting into the nitty gritty of your notes from your lecture earlier today, you see a glass of wine get dropped off at the table.

“gotta relax more, sugar. all that stress is gonna take a toll on you.” you smile up at him, swirling the wine in your glass before taking a sip.

“you don’t like this one.” you say as he takes a sip as well, “you hate pinot.” he shrugs.

“pairs well with the food.”

“no it doesn’t.”

“no it doesn’t.” he nods, repeating what you said and agreeing. you smile as he turns around, taking a sip of his wine. you can see the sides of his neck tense up, and you imagine the scrunched up look on his face from the taste of the wine.

“carmy-”

“it’s good, yummy.” he says, taking another sip and fighting the sour look on his face.

“i love you.” you laugh. he grumbles and goes back to the kitchen to cook.

soon enough, you’ve got a steaming hot plate of food in front of you, and your laptop gets whisked away.

“eat, and then study if you need to, but you’re not touching this until your stomach is brimming with food. i’ve got seconds.”

“won’t you come eat with me?” you ask, a pout on your face. he tuts.

“yeah yeah.” he refills the wine glasses, his wine looking much darker than yours this go around.

“cab sauv? not the best pairing.”

“better than fucking pinot.”

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x female reader #carmen berzatto #the bear #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x female reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto fic #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #1000 follower celebration #birthday celebration

[elsfairy]

ㅤㅤ﹕ ꒰ ྀི  🧁 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐑!𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒   ー ♡

꒰ ♡ ꒱ loser!violet who clams up and starts to sweat when she spots you in the same room as her. tries to act like she’s all cool and hip, but how can she when you’re smiling at everyone, and making conversation while she’s just slumped in the corner of the room, blushing furiously because you’re here so close yet so far from her, and are oblivious to the fact she’s got a raging crush on you? and to make it even worse, for her . . you’re always catching her staring at you, and that fucking smile you offer her, makes her weak in the knees.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ loser!violet who fidgets relentlessly the first time you place your hand on her shoulder, as you try to move past a group of people. aware that it wasn’t intentional but she couldn’t stop the way her face flushed, hands began gripping her thighs tightly the longer you were touching her. thankful that her hair was covering the side of her face, so you couldn’t see how bright it became at the small touch. but god did you smell good. hints of flowers and something sweet that she couldn’t fully put her finger on. almost passing out when you whisper a small “hey” in her ear.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ loser!violet who shamelessly stutters the entire time when you finally sit down and talk to her. you though, being oblivious as usual, aren’t aware or noticing the way she’s got her fingernails digging into the chair or the way she has to stop looking at you and making a fool of herself as you talk about your day. It’s hard for her, you’re the prettiest thing she’s ever seen and she didn’t want to fuck it up by randomly blurting out you’re hot or fuck me. or simply has to bite down on her lip at the sound of your sweet, soft voice. she was utterly fucked.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ loser!violet who does indeed let her mouth get the better of her, and before she can stop herself she’s already rambling out “you’re just really pretty, why are you talking to me? There are more less awkward women here for you” and for a second, she’s scared you’re gonna up and leave her mid-conversation. instead, she’s blushing madly, bashfully nervous when you tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and a small “you’re more interesting than them, Pink” comes tumbling out your lips.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ loser!violet who ends up falling over a shipment of boxes at work when you surprise her, your hands barely doing any damage when placed on her shoulders, but you make her so nervous that she’s bound to fall over something and make it more embarrassing on her part. constantly and nervously chewing on her bottom lip the longer you just . . . stare at her with that fuckin’ pretty smile of yours. “was just wondering . . . do you wanna go on a date with me? that’s if you want to of course, Pink” to which she stutters a nervous “v..violet, my name . .” let’s just say it took her a solid 10 minutes to realize you were dead serious about a date.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ loser!violet who spends the entire first 30 minutes just gawking at you. she watches the way your fingers trace the wine glass, the way your nose crinkles up when you’re focused on reading the menu, and how the corner of your lips twitch upwards when spotting a group of dogs walking outside the restaurant. she still had no idea how to act cool around you, because watching, sitting there looking all elegant while she just stared like a damn perv, was nothing but cool. It’s your fault for being so pretty. pretty girls, especially you, are her weakness.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ loser!violet who outright almost whimpers and has to clench her thighs together tightly when you let out a soft moan, the taste of whatever food you ordered, she doesn’t remember honestly, hits your taste buds. how can someone even moan all pretty? she doesn’t fucking know but all she knows, is that she wants to hear it again, amongst other sounds, she’s dying to get you to make. she felt gross, thinking about you this way and imagining the way you would look, makeup ruined, tears staining your face as she buries her face between your thighs. would you run your fingers through her hair, tug and pull until she felt light-headed? would you damn near suffocate her with your legs? she would let you do anything, but if you keep moaning like that, she’s gonna burst.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ loser!violet who forgets how to speak or function the minute you somehow end up on her lap after eating. Shit, you aren’t really sure how you ended up sitting on her toned, hard thighs but you weren’t complaining. Violet, on the other hand, was panicking. her fingers were twitching, she could feel the sweat on her forehead trickling, and her throat was so dry because she you were so close to her, also didn’t know where to fucking put her hands. on your hips? on your neck? hell, in your hair? girl was so lost in her own gay panic that she didn’t feel your hands pulling her arms around your waist until you pat her on the head, placing your own on her shoulder. “you worry too much. you can touch me” don’t give her that fucking idea.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ loser!violet who for the first time in her life, is burnt like a tomato and insanely shy the minute you go down on her. she’s got one hand over her mouth trying to conceal the pathetic whimpers and moans, the other tangled in your hair. Your hands are gripping her hips for dear life, creating crescent moons in her soft skin, fucking hell— she doesn’t even know how long you’ve been between her legs, lapping up at her cunt like a starved woman. all she knows is that she’s on cloud nine. the feeling of your nose bumping against her clit, and the way your tongue feels between her folds is enough to have her panting like a dog. until of course, a sharp but gentle slap lands on her cunt, a needy whine slipping from her lips. “take your hand off your mouth, and let me fuckin’ hear you, yeah? can you be a good girl and let me hear you?”

꒰ ♡ ꒱ loser!violet who is so loser by her 3rd orgasm that she’s touching you every with such a need. gripping your tits, pinching your nipples, kissing and sucking your neck. occasionally switching to your jaw, but always coming back to your neck, leaving pretty purple marks as she goes. hearing those moans and whimpers in her ear is another plus.if she could record every sound you’ve made tonight and make it on a loop, she would have done that hours ago because to her, you sound so angelic that she needs to hear it more.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ loser!violet who is obsessive when she hands her hand in your back pocket, keeping you close to her when someone gets too close and personal with you. she’s really not afraid to show people you are hers, and no one else’s. although she does panic a little at the thoughts of maybe she’s being too clingy or being way too possessive towards you, but it’s when you hold her free hand tighter, damn near breaking her fingers, that she calms down and can finally breathe.

꒰ ♡ ꒱ loser!violet who finally without a doubt, will steal your underwear, no matter if it's before or after sex or you are getting ready for the day. she will with no shame just take them out of your hand after you just picked out which pair you want to wear, and stuff them into her pocket. that smug grin on her lips when you looked at her, mouth open and eyes wide, hair still unbrushed and sticking out in different directions. “what? I’m taking these because you’ll be working and now i won’t miss you as much, if i have something to remind me of you, Sweetness”

#loser!violet #is this even loser behaviour? we will never know #vi x reader #vi x you #arcane vi x reader #vi imagine #vi arcane #vi smut #violet arcane #arcane violet #vi headcanons

[kittenintheden]

Right Side of My Neck

so yeah I did that. it's a 420 weed sex fic. let's go.

Rating: E Pairing: Astarion/Ori (female OC) Word Count: 1.8k Content: 18+, post-canon, established relationship, AU or possible future for NYS we don't know?, oral sex, PIV sex, mirror sex, stoned sex, recreational drug use, safe sane consensual.

AO3 Link

Ori reclines on a chaise in their shared flat and gazes out the window as dusk approaches, the last strips of orange-red glow fading on the horizon beyond the city’s rooftops. Her knees are folded up to her chest and she smiles, eyes half-lidded as she raises a hand-rolled cigarette to her mouth and takes another drag, holding it in her lungs for a few seconds before she parts her lips and lets the smoke flow out over them, spilling like a waterfall.

Stars begin to blink into the stretching black sky like someone’s poking holes through the dark to let the pinlight past.

From the other room, Astarion approaches in his loose casualwear, holding a silver goblet in each hand. He dangles one beside Ori’s shoulder and she reaches up with her free hand, taking it and smelling the contents. A rich, dry red. Her favorite.

“You always know the exact thing,” she says, raising her face to pay him an adoring smile.

He stands above her and strokes his fingers through her hair, tilting his head. “I know you. And I am glad for it.”

Ori hums, taking a sip of her wine before she sets it on the nightcast windowsill. She takes his hand and pulls him downward until he chuckles and sinks to his knees beside her, leaning in close to brush their noses together before he sits back and drinks from his own goblet.

“You,” he teases at a lilt. “Smell like devilweed.”

“Do I?” she teases back with a smirk, bringing the cigarette in for another light drag. She releases the smoke out of the side of her mouth. “Pity. That shit makes me so silly in the head.”

“Tragic,” he agrees sadly. “I do prefer you oh-so-serious.”

“I know, but it’s been such a long day,” she says. “Hasn’t it?”

He takes another drink. “Wouldn’t know. I just woke up.”

“Lazy little house lad,” Ori says. “Come here.”

Astarion lets her lift his chin and tilt his mouth toward hers. She sucks in a draw, embers glowing red in the dark, and holds it on her tongue. When she puts her thumb on his bottom lip, he lets her prise it open and blow the smoke into his mouth, punctuating it with a light lick followed by a kiss.

He could hold it for an eternity, really, but he doesn’t. When he breathes out, the smoke curls between them and fills the room with its resinous, sticky scent.

“Mmmm,” he says. “What was that for?”

“You’ve some catching up to do,” she says, placing the cigarette in his mouth. He takes a drag of his own and then removes it with two fingers, tapping it against a nearby tray and setting it aside, still burning.

“Budge up,” he says, crawling up on the chaise next to her. “The stars won’t watch themselves.”

She chuckles and turns back to the window, scooting in closer so he can lay behind her. Within ten minutes, he’s pressing soft kisses to her bare shoulder and stroking down the length of her arm with his fingertips, tracing the twining lines of her tattoos to her wrists and back up again. He wriggles in tighter, murmuring lightly as he buries his face in her curls.

“Why do you always smell so good?” he groans beside her ear.

Ori shakes with giggles, her nose wrinkled up in delight. “That was quick.”

“You know what that shit does to me,” he purrs, nipping her gently on the ear before he reaches a hand around to tilt her face toward him so he can kiss her, licking languidly into her mouth to taste the weed and wine on her tongue.

She leans her head to the side to suck lightly along his neck. “I might have counted on it, admittedly.”

“Cheeky,” he breathes as he hooks his fingers into her loose trousers and pulls them down over her hips. “I like it.”

“I…” Ori cups his jaw in her hand and guides him in for a rolling wave of a kiss. “... like your mouth.”

He grins and lays his weight across her, shifting to one side so he can reach out over her head to pick up the smoldering roach, and takes a hit out of the side of his mouth before replacing it. He holds Ori’s eye as he moves down her body and stops where her split shirt lies open, exposing her from the ribcage down. Astarion tilts his head barely to one side, curls his tongue, and purses his lips, shaping the smoke as it flows along the dip between Ori’s ribs and folds back on itself.

Ori watches him briefly disappear behind the cloud as he laps at the skin below her navel in an open-mouthed kiss, moaning softly while he moves his mouth down to the crux of her thighs. He doesn’t even bother with pretense, his skilled tongue finding all her favorite places like he has her mapped from memory. She arches and whines, her thighs clamping around his ears as she reaches her hands down to tangle into his curls.

The devilweed twines through their blood, making everything go dilated and stretched taut. Every touch a caress, every stroke a spark. Astarion lights her up with lips and tongue, unable to stop grinning against her as he loses himself in touch and taste, scent and sound. His fingers reach along the outer edge of her thigh and he scratches over the skin there, eliciting a cry from Ori above him.

He furrows his brow and dips his other hand between his legs, running a palm over his hardened length, and oh, that’s nice, but that’s not…

Astarion loosens his bindings for some relief and returns his attentions fully. Ori’s wrapped one leg entirely around the back of his neck and her head’s thrown back as she cries out her pleasure. She’s been riding the swell for such a long, lingering moment, and he does something phenomenal, something like a firm stroke and soft flick, and she comes beautifully.

He doesn’t stop, even when she’s shaking around him. The fingers in his hair tighten, but she doesn’t pull him away. Time slows and all he knows is the smell of her and the taste of her and her thighs embracing him.

He makes her come again, then once more for good measure.

“Gods, enough,” Ori gasps, struggling to sit up and pulling him up by the shirt and using her hands and her bare feet and whatever else she can to help him disrobe above her.

Astarion feels her palms run up his torso from waist to chest and he shuts his eyes and lolls his head forward, her touch leaving a lasting stripe of pleasure wherever it goes. He barely registers it while she maneuvers him back onto one of the large cushions and slides off the side for a better angle.

Then he feels her mouth on his cock and all is right. Astarion arches himself back onto the cushions and sighs, spreading his legs and looking down the length of his body to see Ori flick her eyes up at him while she takes him, her lips so soft and sweet over his hardened length.

She was always beautiful in sunlight, and she’s beautiful still in starlight.

“Salen arael,” he says, swallowing around the dryness in his mouth.

Ori shutters her eyes and hums around him and it’s like feeling music set to the tune of lust. Astarion rolls his eyes back and smiles lazily, focusing on the indescribable pleasure of her mouth and the giddy joyous rush it is to love her. Both sides move together inside him, a coin spinning and spinning on its edge. 

She gazes up at him as her tongue glides along his skin and she sees everything he never wanted her to, so long ago.

A man completely undone, his carefully managed hair askew and hanging loose in his eyes from sleep and sex, shirt come loose and hanging about his shoulders, eyes lidded and adoring, limbs heavy with the assurance of safety.

Ori takes him deep and takes her time pulling back and away. Without even needing to communicate it, Astarion is pulling her up by the wrists and turning her around, hands scrabbling at her hips as he guides her down onto his lap. She reaches between their legs to hold him steady while she sinks down onto him and they both moan out their want as she takes it all and their hips press flush.

Astarion would like it very much if he had the mental fortitude for a clever line or two, but at present, the best he’s got is “fuck with you very good,” which he doesn’t feel is up to his usual standard. Instead, he reaches around to cup her breast as he lets his body take over, rolling up into her and melting, melting.

When she reaches around behind her so she can wrap her hand about the nape of Astarion’s neck, Ori cracks her eyes open as she pants from the sensations washing over her and spots herself in the mirror across the way. Her shirt laid fully open, one breast bouncing a little more than the other as her hips rock upward, compelled by an invisible force.

“Ah fuck, that’s hot,” she gasps.

“Huhn?” Astarion grunts in question from where his face is buried in the crook of her neck as he fucks her.

“Don’t stop,” she responds.

He doesn’t. They fall into a slow, rhythmic rock, moving in tandem and enjoying one another, their minds and bodies in a relaxed sort of flow.

The impending promise of orgasm begins to prove too tempting to resist soon enough. Astarion wraps his arms about her torso and kisses at her neck, trailing one hand down between her legs.

Ori laughs, the sound achingly familiar. “Hells, four? You’re asking four?”

“Four is an excellent number,” he gasps. “Humor me. Soon.”

She lolls back against him and lets his careful fingers work one final reward from her.

Ori’s groan is long and low as she shudders from core outward, the heat of her warming him where he’s buried inside her. Astarion sighs out his rapidly approaching peak.

With effort, Ori turns her head to press her mouth against his ear and says, “Come inside.”

He presses hard up into her and holds her in place with his hands on her hips as he goes rigid and then shudders with a groan that’s one part incredible relief and one part disdain at a horrible pun.

Their rocking slows and he stays wrapped around her for a minute or two while they tease one another with aftershocks now and again.

“That joke is so bloody stupid,” Astarion croaks at her without moving, his head resting against her shoulder.

“Works every time, though, doesn’t it?” she teases.

He grumps noncommittally as he rolls them both back onto the chaise.

#astarion smut #bg3 smut #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #astarion x female oc #astarion x original female character #astarion x f!tav #kitten writes #not your sweetheart

[soliarus]

*sigh* Business Party

-fluff, suggestive, business partyyyy shenanigans, first kiss!?!? OH MY GAWD finally finished the series!! Thanks @miinatozakiii for the original request!!

: taking your niece’s teacher out to a business party is crazy

words 1.4k

teacher!sana x fem!reader

part 1 part 2

“You look very pretty, Sana,” you mumble with a blush as you stiffly hold up a bouquet of flowers when the apartment door opens. She was wearing a white dress with a faux feathered coat draped across her shoulders. Sana bashfully smiles as she steps out. 

“And you also look very pretty, Y/N” Your blush increased tenfold as Sana looked at you from under her lashes. 

“T-thank you!” You were wearing a really pretty black dress, and Sana couldn’t keep her eyes off your body. It just hugged your curves in all the right places, in a way that makes her itch—the good kind of itch. 

“Thank you so much for being my plus one, Sana!” you say as you open the passenger door for her, “I really appreciate it; I didn’t know who else to bring. Last time I brought Eun, and let’s just say she was a bit too excited.”

“Of course, Y/N! Thank you so much for inviting me; I’ve never been to a party like this, and I’m excited!” Sana beams as she places her hand over yours, which rests on the door handle. You swallow as Sana’s fingers rub against yours. 

“Y-yeah…” *gulp* 

— 

“Oh, Sana, before we go inside…” You start. Still in your car, the venue is only a couple steps away. It’s clear you were nervous. 

“Yes, Y/N?” Sana looks at you expectantly, but with the most caring eyes. 

“This is for you.” You pull out a bracelet, carefully crafted with fine silver and diamonds. “I had it specially made for you; it’s a thank you. For joining me tonight.” 

—

The party was much fancier than Sana intended; the hall was adorned with gold and maroon decorations. And it just smelled rich. Like someone spilt a bottle of Chanel Cuir de Russie. 

Sana was nervous, like really super nervous. She fiddled with her fingers, bringing them up to play with the bracelet you had given her a few moments ago. She cautiously eyed the magnificent room. You sensed her nervousness and slowly held her hand in yours. 

“I was nervous at my first party too, but I promise you, I won’t let anything bad happen to you tonight.” You softly tell her, squeezing her hand reassuringly. This time Sana feels her breath hitch. You just look so good. You smile at her, lost in her eyes for a second, before coming to your senses. 

“Hey, you’ve got to try the wine here; the rich snobs love it,  seriously it tastes like trash.” You whisper the last bit into Sana’s ear, who just giggles as you walk her towards the huge bar in the corner. 

“Oh, oh wow…” Sana covers her mouth with her hand, squeezing her eyes shut after taking a sip of some wine. You try to hold back your laugh. 

“See, I told you, just because the bottles are more expensive doesn’t mean the taste gets better.” you giggle as Sana slumps over the counter. 

“What’s with rich people and bitterness…” Sana mumbles but then her eyes widen as she looks at you, “I-I didn’t mean you- I just-” 

You really couldn’t hold back your laugh this time as Sana stumbles over her words. She’s mesmerized by the way you tilt your head back and place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, your eyes forming crescents. God, she feels lucky enough to be in your presence. 

“Ah, Ms. Magical Diamond has decided to finally attend a party,” a deep voice spoke from behind you. You turned to face a tall 6’6” man, his broad shoulders and buff muscles constricting within the suit he wore, his mustache proper yet holding so much power. 

Sana felt astonished, frightened even, this man was scary, he’s got to be some bodyguard, mafia boss, assassin, or something. You– no scratch that everyone looked so small compared to him. Yet your smile didn’t show any fear at all, you beamed as you hugged him. 

“Mr. Puff!” You exclaim. Okay, weird name. Sana thought. But her nervousness dissipated as she saw the man smile, it seemed so fatherly, co comforting. 

“Sana! This is Mr. Puff! He’s the owner of Puff’s Bakery!” You introduce her. Oh, this big guy owns that one cute bakery in New York—the one with white walls, completely adorned with baby pink decor? 

She’s astonished as she stares at the man. You giggle at her awed face, “He might seem all rough on the outside, but trust me he’s just a big old cream puff”. You reassure her, Sana just nods as you and Mr. Puff begin a light conversation. 

While you’re distracted, she takes the chance to look around, not at the place, she’s already done that, but at the people. Her eyes catch celebrities and business entrepreneurs of all kinds. Some of them she didn’t know anything about, except for one thing, they could probably buy her life in a heartbeat. 

Holy sh*t, is that Kim Kardashian!? 

“Sana? Sana!” You were waving a hand over her face, trying to get her attention. 

“Huh?” You giggle as she turns to you, looking like a confused puppy. You place a hand on her cheek. 

“You’re so cute, you know that?” You murmur, staring into her eyes. Sana’s face flushes. 

“W-what?” 

“Uhh I mean that– like– you…let’s just leave” 

—-

“It’s still early in the night...would you like to come over to my place?” You ask Sana after leaving the venue. 

“If you don’t mind! I would love to see your place!” Sana beams, her eyes twinkling, ready to see your home. 

You two stop in front of a huge building, handing in your keys before leading the way. Just as the two of you step into the elevator, a whole bunch of people step in. Why are there so many people out right now? You wouldn’t know. One thing you did know was that your front was literally pressed against Sana’s right now as the two of you were shoved into the corner of the elevator. 

You were breathing against Sana’s neck, her hands wrapping around your waist to keep you from falling. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. You chanted in your mind. You shivered as one of her hands trailed up from your waist across your back, against your neck, before grasping your chin. You didn’t have any time to react because she tugged your face up only to place a soft peck on your lips. You were shocked, to say the least. 

When you tried to make eye contact with her, you saw she was looking somewhere else, or at someone else. A man, you saw him scoff and stuff his phone in his pocket before turning to look at the door instead. Sana also let out a scoff under her breath before looking at you. Her serious eyes, now wide and full, you saw as her face slowly turned red. You also felt your face burn as everyone in the elevator stepped out, leaving the two of you alone in there. 

You take a step back, once the doors close, your chest heaving. You notice how Sana’s hands linger a bit before she speaks up, “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have done that without your permission, that guy was eyeing you weird and I think he was going to take a picture of you– I know that’s not an excuse but–” 

You stopped her in her tracks, “I liked it…” you whispered. 

“What…” She breathes out. 

“I liked it” 

—

As soon as the door closed, you pushed Sana against it, your lips fully on hers. Two breaths combined into one as you tugged each other closer. Your make out session didn’t last long though. You felt yourself freeze in your spot when you heard someone clear their throat behind you—a sound you’re way too familiar with. 

“E-eun! What are you doing here!” You turned around, hair slapping Sana in the face. There was your niece in all her glory, wearing her Barbie pjs, a cup of milk in her hand, the other tapping against it as she leaned against the wall. 

“Mom dropped me off five hours ago, had the place to myself…” She shrugs as if it’s the most normal thing ever, “I should be the one asking that question to her” She points to the woman behind you, “Ms. Minatoki…” 

“I–uhmm…” Sana has nothing to say, not even the normal correction of her name, her mouth opening and closing like a fish, I mean what can you say after your student finds their aunt’s lipstick marks all over your face. 

You hurriedly hand Sana a tissue and help her pull her dress straps onto her shoulder. 

“Why didn’t your mom tell me she was dropping you off,” You groan. 

“She texted you, and emailed you, and called you, even left a voicemail, I think?” Eun murmurs. 

“You should be in bed.” 

“So you could have my teacher in yours?” 

#sana x reader #sana imagines #twice x reader #twice imagines #twice imagine #twice sana

[paradubolical]

it's that time again

here's how to make alcohol at home

recipe under the cut. it's long. I warned you.

FOREWARD:

I do not endorse regular substance abuse or at-home distillation without proper training. Don’t hit your kids. Don’t blow up your house. It’s okay to eat shit and die, like, once every three months, not every two weeks, not every weekend. If you’re doing that, there’s not much I can do to help or give in way of advice. But this recipe is not for you. And you should reconsider some stuff if you haven’t already.

That being said.

The following is my personal method for brewing beer, mead, wine, etc. I have utilized this method many times and it has worked wonderfully. I have achieved up to 15% proof. This means that the substance you create should be perfectly drinkable and safe if you follow the instructions and use your head. HOWEVER. You should be prepared to read this whole document before making anything. There are warnings and safety precautions you need to take, and I don’t want anyone to get botulism of some shit because of a shoddy recipe that doesn’t explain absolutely everything.

I also do not encourage the practice of distillation at home. This is not because it is illegal. For those unaware, distillation is the semi-complicated process of heating alcohol to produce hard liquors. While it may sound fun to make Smirnoff from home, there is a reason we do not. Alcohol is extremely flammable. You will set yourself or your valuables on fire.

Ingredients:

1 Packet ActiveDry Yeast

1 Cup Sugar or 1 Cup Sugar Equivalent*

⅔ Gallon Water

Supplies:

1 Gallon Container

1 Suitable Cork or Lid**

3-4 Ballons, Latex Gloves, or even condoms will do honestly***

IMPORTANT:

You must have a space prepared ahead of time to store the JFCB while it brews. Remember. It will stink like hell. Anyone who smells it will know it’s alcohol. Use your noggin okay

NOTES:

*

In simple terms, alcohol is created when yeast eats sugar. You can use pretty much anything sugary. Don’t use chocolate unless you want to die.

I like to use those strawberry-flavored grandma hard candies. The stuff they make is super fucking strong and tastes like god himself descended from the heavens to kick your ass. It makes what I like to call the JFCB. It’s high-proof enough to burn your throat. So, you know, try to moderate.

**

You need something to seal the container with once you’re done. Pick wisely.

***

It’s gotta be something that can form a seal around the lip of the container, but also expand like a balloon. These are some of the things I’ve found work best.

INSTRUCTIONS:

Creating the Base

Take your 1-Gallon Container and fill it with half the packet of ActiveDry yeast. You don’t need all of it. Trust me on this one.

Pour in your 1 Cup Sugar or Equivalent.

Pour in the ⅔ Gallon of Water.

Either whisk or mix vigorously. When it starts foaming, you’re done.

Stage 1

Put the Balloon/Latex/Condom over the lip of the container. Make sure it’s secure and extremely tight, but there’s plenty of room for air to fill.

Find your designated Place to Put It. This should be somewhere nobody’s gonna smell it, and also somewhere nobody’s gonna go for the next three odd months.

Set your shit down.

Wait 2-3 weeks.

Stage 2

After 2-3 weeks, the alcohol should stop emitting gas. At this point, it’s safe to cork. Don’t do it beforehand or the container will explode.

I like to put some hot glue or wax over the lip just to make sure it’s sealed extra well. I sometimes put tinfoil too. It doesn’t actually help anything, just looks fancy.

Find somewhere nice to store it. Make sure it’s right side up. Odds are you sealed it pretty poorly if it’s your first time, and you’re gonna be in deep shit if it starts to smell.

If it does, that means you corked it too early. Move it back to your Place to Put It for like a month. Recork it after that time’s up. It might be difficult, but you’re smart. You can do it. It should be good to go after that.

And there you have it. A nice bottle of…. Something?

Enjoy. Or just leave it to sit.

FAQ:

Q: I’m worried about getting botulism from this shit. Is it really safe?

A: Usually, people don’t get botulism. My rule of thumb is that if it smells like shit you should really just throw it away. If you’re really worried, I’d also recommend throwing it away. The paranoia’s not worth it.

Q: I’m a minor. Should I try this at home?

A: Probably not. I’m a minor too, so fuck’s to say what my opinion’s worth.

Q: I want to try vodka/scotch/whiskey. What should I do?

A: You should just not. Or buy it at the store. I don’t know man i’m not the all-seeing eye

Q: I’ve heard you need an airlock for this. Do you need an airlock for this?

A: Absolutely fucking not. They are feeding you airlock propaganda. You don’t need an airlock.

#eddsworld fanart #eddsworld #eddswolrd #tom ew #tom eddsworld #shitpost #alcohol #beer #red wine #wine #mead #recipe #recipes #cooking #breaking bad #how to #these fucking tags man #mega shitpost #life #life quotes #motivation #motivating quotes #fanart #crime

[eli0004]

Ever wondered where the Veterans would take you on a date?

(Erwin Smith, Levi Ackerman, Hange Zoe)

Erwin smith? Applebee’s💀

lmfao I’m joking, but the way i see it, Erwin strikes me as the goofy, endearingly cringy, single dad type of guy that really believes Applebee’s is the epitome of fine dining. Thankfully, he listens when Levi tells him to have a little class💀

In all seriousness, I think he’d be the type to take you wine tasting, go to see live music performances at local venues, or browsing a cute little craft market on a crisp spring morning.

He’d clean up nice beforehand, probably wear some jeans and a button up shirt, and this man would smell…so…fucking…good😩 like fresh powdery cologne and spearmint gum. You’d get in his car and he’d already have your favorite coffee order in the cupholder waiting for you. Omg i love him

Levi Ackerman? Tea shops, local bakeries, art museums, bookstores, theater.

Levi has a love for the arts, and anything intellectually stimulating. He likes to take his time getting to know the person he’s interested in, so he wouldn’t want to do any kind of activity he couldn’t talk during. It’s a common headcannon among us Levi lovers that he’s an acts of service kind of guy, so you know he’ll be always observing what kind of pastries you order, what kind of tea you like, or your favorite genre of book.

When Levi takes interest in someone, he doesn’t take them for granted. He’s always perusing, always chasing, always loving, so diligently. Gas will never be an issue, this man will drive you across town and back 4 times if you asked him to. He plans dates ahead of time, and always comes prepared, with a wallet full of cash and a tank full of gas, and If he ends the night empty handed, he’ll call it a job well done.

Hange Zoe? Hikes, smoke sesh on the roof, metaphysical shops, farmers markets, picnics, nature walks, the zoo.

Hange is one of those earthly granola people. They’re 100% vegan, grounded to the world around them, and a huge animal lover, so i love the idea that they’ll want to go on a hike to bird watch or pet some moss. Just imagine how cute it would be, you’re both walking around in a stream in the woods, pant legs hiked up around your calves, looking for pretty colored stones for your collection. The sun is peaking through the tree line and you both smell like sweat and sunscreen and earth. Hange finds a turtle or a small frog and catches it to show you🥹 they make me so soft. They’ll also 100% get sunburnt on their nose and cheeks because they can’t ever remember to apply sunscreen there.

Hange is the type to love taking photos of you on dates, and add them to the photo wall in their apartment. If you go to visit, the two of you will pack a bowl and laugh about the memories you have together as you look over the pictures, some kind of cozy music playing in the background.

#attack on titan #aot #aot smut #aot x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #sub!levi #sub!levi ackerman #aot headcanons #aot x y/n #hange zoe #hange zoë #hange zoe x reader #hange zoe x y/n #hange zoe x you #hange zoe smut #hange zoe headcanons #erwin smith #aot erwin #erwin smut #erwin smith x reader #erwin smith headcannons #Aiko’sHeadcannons

[haechanhues]

Corrupted

pairing : haechan x (fem)reader

genre : smut. 

warnings : established relationship (kind of). corruption kink. porn without plot. oral (f. & m. receiving). unprotected sex (please practice safe sex). choking. haechan!dom / reader!sub dynamics. reader is a brat. marking. the endearment ‘good girl’ is used. body worship (in a particular way). also this is like the first time i’ve actually tried to write smut so if it’s terrible be nice about it pls and thank you. minors do not interact. 

summary : all you can focus on is him and how much you wish he’d corrupt you like so many times before. 

word count : 4k 

@k-labels​

part two 

main masterlist 

playlist : heaven - taemin / into you - ariana grande / volcano - han /  under the influence - chris brown / venom - stray kids  

The sunset view from the car is beautiful. The chewy orange blending within the whitewashed light blue. It’s truly heaven on Earth, you imagine. An infinite picture of how glorious the world can be. Yet, your attention isn’t on the sky. Nor on the beautiful red wine dinner you had tonight. You were neither drunk nor high. What you were, was a woman in need of her man to wreck her. To have his way with her in a way she believes only he knows how. 

Said man lazes back into the leather car seat, eyes half lidded and dragging across your body with an appreciative gaze. The hand that was lazily drawing naughty pictures along the fabric of your silk dress all night now has a grip on your hair, experimentally squeezing and tugging at the roots. 

You eye him dutifully as he wraps the soft strands around his fist, his tongue peeking out to swipe against his bottom lip. Your pussy aches for him. But you wait, betraying the need in your body in order to please him. 

It’s a skill of yours, to still look so innocent whilst you’re on your knees in front of him. So compliant. So soft. Even though he knows what you taste like when your mouth is drunk on lust and your cunt is dripping with arousal. What you smell like. What you feel like. 

And it’s all thanks to him. 

You are the result of his corruption. 

He smirks a little at the thought, letting his fingers cascade down your face, tickling the skin before he grips harder at your hair, the skin around his mouth becoming taut as he uses a bit of force, ‘My good girl.’ 

God. 

Pleased with the nickname, your palms brush over his stomach, his body slightly tensing as you make to grab at the waistband of his pants, tugging at them pleadingly. With a dark look smoothed over his face, he drags them down, eyeing you with challenge as he’s left in only his boxers. 

Feeling a rush of bravery, your knee slips in between his legs and your mouth claims him. His lips are soft and your body heats at the feeling of his. Surprise overtakes his features only for a second, but lets you take charge, not bothered at all by your longing. Your head tilts as your tongue licks against his, timid and unsure. He only smiles at your hesitance but doesn’t make any effort to take the lead. 

Accepting his smile as permission, you feel a surge of confidence and deepen the kiss yourself, your tongue more confidently brushing against his own, the subtle taste of cinnamon almost bursting in your mouth. You can’t help the way you melt into him, your fingers reaching upwards to sift through his gorgeous locks of hair before your nails drag down his neck and across his shoulders, electrifying him with pleasure. He hums into your mouth, planting both of his hands on your hips with a firm grip, holding them in place. You want nothing more to sit on his lap and to feel the fabric of your panties lick across your clit, but you remain kneeling. It’s torment. Your chin drops onto the curls on his head and your lips together in a futile attempt to keep quiet. 

But he knows you so well. 

It’s almost like he designed the way you felt pleasure. How you thought about pleasure. Every sensation was designed by him. 

Feeling your need, his right hand drops from your hips and you shudder at the way his palm dawdles down your front until it meets the skin on the back of your thigh, every hair on your body raising with anticipation.  Taking his time, his fingers are a caress as they circle the expanse of your upper thigh before his palm slots in between your thighs like a puzzle, his thumb kissing your slit. 

Your breath hitches and you pull a little away from the kiss, your mouth opening at the feeling. Your thighs press together and it causes the most delicious feeling of torment to crash behind your eyes. His eyes flutter open as he gazes at you knowingly, his pupils blown wide and the tongue that runs across his bottom lip teasing. 

“You alright, baby?” He asks, his voice laced with such a dark lust, you almost moan at the sound. 

“Mm-nnng,” You whimper against his mouth as his fingers cup your sex and your hips jerk involuntarily, ‘Yes.’ 

‘Yes’ He mocks in a high pitched tone, and it’s so red the way he says it. Almost murderous. The colour of blood. The texture of velvet. 

His fingers circle your clit over your panties, teasingly sweeping and igniting the growing feeling in your core. Little mewls of lust escaping your mouth as you throw your head back, exposing your throat to the man in front of you, his eyes dancing as your wet arousal coats his fingers. His breath tickles the length of your throat as his mouth hovers over your neck, enjoying the way moans are being pulled from your chest when his fingers enter you. No matter how much he wants to wreck you with his fingers this very instant, wreck you with only his hands until you forget your own name, he wills his hand to halt its ministrations. You whine, wanting him to move, needing him to move. Always needing. Just the way he likes. 

Haechan paints your throat with his kisses, groaning at every reaction, feeling his cock become harder and harder with every experimental touch. Sweet kisses pull breathy giggles from your throat, your own hands cupping and squeezing at your tits. Open mouthed kisses have your hips seeking out their own pleasure, rolling back and forth in his hold in search of that delicious friction. More desperate than you have ever been. Pleading with him to have his way with you. Please. Just please. Kisses where his bottom lip dawdled behind the rest of his mouth to meet each new press of his lips had you a fidgeting mess, your hands grabbing at anything. His elbows. Arms. Hair. Your dress. 

Your pretty but pesky dress. 

‘Take off your dress,’ Is a whisper as much as it is a demand and he removes his hand from your core. Haechan swipes at the bottom of his mouth with the very same fingers that were dripping with your wetness, your arousal and the taste of your cherry lip balm left behind on his lips. 

Obedient and docile, your thumbs hook around the end of your dress, pulling it upwards, letting the man in front of you appreciate the way your body is slowly being exposed to him. With a lick of his lips, his thumb pulls down at your bra, your nipple perking up excitedly. His thumb circles your left breast lethargically, gazing at the way your breast dimples with the slightest press of his fingertips. It’s when he touches the nipple that your back straightens and your eyes fall shut briefly. You await the torture you know he’ll make you endure. Instead, his thumb remains gently stroking, approving of the way your nipple starts to harden under his flirtatious attention. 

Unable to help yourself, with his hand still remaining at your breast you reach forward to kiss him again, this time much sweeter and innocent than the previous. Seemingly. He abides by it, loving the way you smell. Loving how warm you are. You’re liquid honey and he’s nothing but weak to it. 

Suddenly a slight rush of pain in his lips has him looking at you confused and pleasantly surprised, coming to the conclusion that you’ve nipped at his lips playfully whilst he was lost in your kiss, wearing a smile so daring and so like the cheeky girl he knows you can be. He can’t help the slight smile that graces his lips when you attempt to soothe the small bite you’ve subjected him to, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips in apology, one that leaves his mouth tingling. You could kiss him for hours - how soft his lips were, how perfect, how him. 

Those were the lips that have you brought you to heaven so many times after all. It’s only fair to pay tribute. 

He exhales as you fall to your knees in front of him again, his erected cock as hard as it can possibly get, pleading to be removed by the constraints of his boxers. 

And you pride yourself on being a good listener. 

Your palm reaches in and pulls his long cock out, your mouth watering at the sight. He’s so pretty. Much prettier than you’d think a cock could be. So effortless pretty. 

With a mouth with a mind of it’s own, you lean forward, licking a large stripe from the underside of the shaft, licking upwards to meet the tip. Haechan hisses at the sensation of how warm your mouth is, his knuckles white. You smile, wrapping the tip of his cock with your mouth, tasting the slight taste of his pre-cum with a little moan. Though you make no effort to suck him off. Only mouthing around the tip of his cock. 

Impatiently, he grips the back of your head, seeing your willingness to thoroughly enjoy his sounds of equal frustration and pleasure. Needing to punish you, he hisses, ‘You enjoy teasing me, huh? Think it’s fun?’ 

Without waiting for your response, his hips lift and his hand pushes down on the back of your head, groaning at the true feeling of your mouth and throat. Your mouth opens wider to allow for his cock to have access. A surge of pride rushes through him. You take him so good. So well. 

Pleasure overtakes his senses as he grips harder at your hair, daring to go deeper each time he pulls back. Sadistically loving the way you gag around his cock and the crescent moons your nails leave behind on his legs. The ends of your hair has fanned outwards and they tickle against his skin. He smiles as he slides out of your mouth to briefly check on your state of being, loving the way your chest is heaving with every large breath of air you inhale and exhale. 

There’s his good girl. 

‘So good to me, baby, aren’t you?’ He licks his lip again, your fucked out expression only managing a sweet, obedient nod. 

Taking that as permission he continues to fuck your face, thrusting back and forth with more vigour, groaning at everything. The warm and wet feeling of your mouth. Your tongue rubbing along the tip. Your desperation to see his pleasure. To reach that feeling where he has no control at all and you have it instead. 

Knowingly, his waist drops as his posture straightens, his cock falling out of your mouth. It’s messy and your thighs squeeze together at the thought that your mouth had been there. Your mouth was on that pretty cock. That cock was down your throat. And you loved every second of it. He did too. You look at him as if he had disappointed you, yet he only looks at you expectantly. Waiting. 

Your turn. 

With a fixation on the tip of his cock, you kitten lick it once again. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek at the teasing you can’t help but commit. But his annoyance disappears as your hand reaches up to wrap his cock in a fist, gliding back and forth along the slick shaft. Your mouth opens and your tongue extends, his cock almost bouncing in the cave of your mouth and against your tongue. He groans at the feeling and you look at him. 

So innocent and yet he can see what corruption has done to you. He exhales a small laugh, his fingertip brushing at your cheek. You can’t help but smile back at him, getting slightly bashful as he takes the time to admire you. His smile only widens at you, looking at you in a way that you can’t help but pause your naughty ministrations to slump forward to rest your forehead on his hips. He cocks his head. You’re shy again. 

Not letting your bashfulness get completely in the way, your hand returns to its back and forth and you line kisses on his shaft as an apology. But he’s not mad. Not really. You’re starting to get desperate again. Your mouth laying claim over his cock, gagging as you take him deeper and deeper. He moans with such a feral ferocity that you can’t help the whine that escapes you, lighting him with sensual fire. 

He needs you. Now. 

‘Lie down,’ He orders, motioning towards the leather seats. Swallowing, you follow his orders, your legs slightly spread apart. With a smack of his lips, he peels your underwear down your legs, the air cooling against your exposed slit. 

His ring clad fingers pry your thighs further apart, letting his body fit between them unabashedly. He smirks at the sleek arousal almost dripping out of your pussy, taking great delight in the way you eye his fingers and mouth. Long ring clad fingers. Soft, wet and pretty mouth. 

Smugly, his arms hook under your thighs and pry them apart even further, allowing easy access to complete ruin. Your greed for it evident in your eyes. Drinking him in. 

The first kiss to the inside of your thigh has you whimpering and he lets his kisses float against the skin. 

‘Move....please, move.’ You plead. 

He gloats against your skin, licking against the outer lips of your pussy. It tickles but all you can let out are whimpers. Unable to tame the beast inside of him anymore, he licks at the swollen clit. Loving the way you writhe for him. 

Your mouth gapes open at the sensations that overtake you. Pure pleasure running through your veins and taking your body as a hostage. You can hear the sounds Haechan makes when his mouth comes into contact with your pussy. Messy popping sounds that drive you to unspeakable lengths and back with each swirl of his tongue. He sucks at your clit like the lollipops he consumes was made for this one purpose. 

You moan loudly as he licks one torturously slow long stripe along your sex before blowing on it. A shot of cold air has you electrocuted and your mindful grip on the seats has turned almost violent on his head. Your hips grind onto his mouth enjoying the feeling of his tongue. Untamed. He slaps your ass swiftly and you gasp as flecks of delicious pain jolt your body into attention. 

His mouth pulls away from you in challenge, his eyebrows dancing as you glower at his retreating figure, ‘I’m just getting a condom, baby.’ 

Your glower deepens and you reach for him again, pulling at his collar. A dangerous and risky move. Sometimes it gets you punished. But you’re incessant. Begging for him to continue. Pleading for him raw. Always wanting him. 

He smirks as he theatrically places his middle finger on the hood of your clit, enjoying the way you squirm ‘You’re always needy, aren’t you?’ 

He’s teasing and he doesn’t expect you to respond. Not when his mouth returns to suck at your clit and his fingers dip into pussy. You’re relentless and you’re moaning so loudly at the pleasure he can’t help the way his need to have you come on his mouth transforms to a primal sort of want. He curls his fingers with trained precision thrusting in and out whilst his mouth is kissing and sucking at any angle that has you screaming louder. 

Trapped in a gaze like molten lava, coming is the easiest thing you’ve ever done. Like a knot becoming undone, your legs and arms loosen and your head falls towards the flat surface of the car seat. Yet you’re not finished. You know you’re not. You may of had his fingers. You may have come on his tongue. But you wanted to be wrecked by his cock. You wanted him to completely have his way with you. To fill you up. Your desperation is silent this time as you remain in your position, waiting for him. 

Haechan places a soft purposeful kiss on the inside of your thigh, a contrast to the dark chuckle with a sardonic texture that tickles the skin. He’s slow and his eyes are burning into you with a heated challenging glint, ‘Have you been taking your birth control?’ 

You bit your lip as you nodded. 

‘Good girl,’ He purrs, letting the words affect you like his hand would. His mouth shining with your arousal painted on his mouth. With a last parting kiss to your thigh, he straightens, letting his clothes slacken. 

Soaking up the way you’re watching him, he brings both his hands through his hair before removing his leather jacket and t-shirt. You marvel at the subtle lines of muscle along his abdomen and stomach. Snickering at the pleading eyes of yours, he shuffles closer, letting you grip his hips and grounding him against your pussy, moaning at the sensation. 

‘Impatient,’ He murmurs, dragging his boxers completely down his legs before tossing them to the side. He glowers at the way you blink at him innocently and he knows he’s going to have to set some rules. Splaying out the total length of his hands on your stomach before beginning its ascent to the place he wants it, collaring your neck. 

‘I think I’ve been lenient with you tonight, yes?’ He cocks his head, his tongue briefly licking at his bottom lip and your eyes zero in on the action, incredibly horny. Glaring down at your lack of focus, his pelvis thrusts into the gap between your legs and his hands slightly squeezing at your neck, noting the way your eyes roll back in pleasure, ‘Answer me.’ 

‘Yes,’ You nod, the obedient little lamb once again. 

He’s so hot. So incredibly mouth watering in front of you like this. Dominating and devilish. 

‘So you’re going to be a good girl for me?’ Haechan demands and you nod. You just want him. Need him. Forever needing him. Only him. If he wanted a good girl, he’d get a good girl. 

'Yes,’ You whine, your voice increasing in both volume and pitch. 

Haechan’s eyebrows lower in warning before grabbing his cock in his hand and gliding it across your slit once, his tip grazing your clit. You mewl as you grip your thighs in a tighter hold, the pain barely registering as he lines his cock up to your entrance before slowly easing into you. The groan that escapes both your moans has your smile widening. You feel so full and complete. You watch him, wanting to see the way he looks at you. However, his focus is stolen by the way his cock disappears into your cunt before bottoming out. Both your stomachs pressed up against each other has you feral. He’s so beautiful. 

‘Fuck,’ He moans at the way your pussy clenches around him. His eyes close for a sweet second before he’s moving, thrusting in and out of you at a slow pace. Your chin tilts upwards as you let out a sound of satisfaction. 

‘Faster,’ You beg, grabbing onto his shoulders in preparation, clawing at the skin. 

He pecks at your neck with a feather like kiss, before he positions himself to thrust just the way you want him. He enters you hard and fast and you can’t help your strangled scream, ‘Fuck.’ 

Haechan groans as he continues to steal your identity in exchange for the pleasure that has your body in a chokehold. Your legs hook around his waist, bringing him closer and your mouth finds his neck, biting and licking with every devilishly wolfish drag of his cock into your tight cunt. A playground for all your sex bites and kisses. Marking him.

‘You and your fucking marking,’ He sneers into the crook of your neck. He’s not one for visible marks, but you are. You like the way the colour of his skin changes because of you. How they stake claim. With a reprimanding growl, he lays his palm on your stomach, needing to absolutely wreck you of words. His cock thrums as your cunt swallows every hard thrust. All you can do is moan, finding it physically impossible to mark him. All you do is moan and mewl, whimper and scream. So many songs of pleasure and he’s the one making you sing them. 

Your eyes are glazed over like honey and your lips swollen, he muses down at you with a sweet look in his eye, ‘Words....can you remember them, baby?’ 

Eyebrows furrowed, open mouth, swollen lips and a tightening grip on his waist. No answer. His musing smile drops off his face as he stares cruelly at you. As if you’re his prey. His hips drive into yours faster and harder, driven by your sounds and the tightening of your pussy. You’re close, ‘You don’t need them when you come anyway.’ 

He’s right. Because he’s brought you down this road many times before. Your body is shaking with your orgasm, wet and pulsing with heat. Legs and feet tensing, grabbing at the car seat under you with a tight squeeze. Your pussy clenching around his cock tightly and it takes all of his power not to become undone by the effect your orgasm has on his cock and how much he wants to come. 

But he stands no chance, because you’re looking at him with your innocent eyes of worship, like a fox, as if the both of you aren’t currently fucking in his car. His orgasm rips through him like a new skin, and you’re smiling at the way you feel his cum coat the walls of pussy. He feasts upon it. 

Only when he feels himself soften and his breathing return to normal does he wipe at your leaking sex with his t-shirt and check for any marks that he might’ve left behind, ‘Did I hurt you?’ 

‘You could never hurt me,’ Your words and tone are soft. You’re glowing, he notices. So beautiful. 

His smug smile is teasing, not taking you seriously, opting to ignore your beauty by pretending like it’s normal to be this enraptured by someone. His initial reply is halted by the way you look at him with only gentle eyes. Like you always do. It used to anger him, somewhat. He wasn’t the best guy in the world, not really, everyone knew it and yet, you never treated him like he was anything less. He closes his eyes and his smile tilts towards fake, ‘I could.’ 

You lean into kiss him, just a chaste kiss, one that isn’t heated nor desperate. One that’s sweet like you and difficult for him. But you know he’d do it. However, he’s distracted by your eyes. With a trained kind of gentleness, his finger skims along your eyelashes, admiring the new length, a small smile on his face ‘These are new.’ 

You smile, your words singing in your head like a mantra. Haechan can think the worst of himself. See himself as the big bad wolf that brought the innocent girl down to rot. See himself as the bad guy before the good guy swoops you off your feet. See himself as the embodiment of corruption. 

It’s true, he corrupted you. He did. He’s the man that’s fucked you in your kitchen. Fucked you on his desk.  Even now, he’s the guy who’s just finished fucking you in his car. He’s fucked you so much that he’s ruined any other guy for you. You can’t even entertain the idea of somebody else.

But you’ve also corrupted him. He doesn’t realise how gentle he is with you. How sweet and how caring. How he protects you. How he’s always willing to try or to readily sacrifice a part of his world for you. How he has made your pink love red and beating. 

Those innocent eyes of yours. So obedient. So compliant. How ready they were to show him how to love and be loved. 

author’s note : is it normal to want to bury myself in a hole. asking for a friend. this was originally supposed to be for valentine’s day or my birthday or haechan’s birthday! but you get it now instead! yay! 

#k-flixnet #k-labels #haechan fic #haechan x reader #nct haechan x reader #nct haechan fic #nct fic #nct smut #nct haechan smut #nct haechan imagines #nct haechan scenarios #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream smut #nct dream fic #nct127 smut #nct127 fic #haechan hard hours #haechan hard thoughts

[hermionesslut]

MY SECRET BEACH

(wanda maximoff x fem!reader)

꒰ synopsis ꒱ vis is away on business

꒰ author’s note ꒱ omg my comeback🤭🤭 i also have something else in the works!!!! omg in my active era??? first wanda fic too!!!!

꒰ content warning ꒱ nsfw, smut, mommy kink ofc! babysitter!reader, milffff!wanda, fingering (r receiving), some breast play

You waited and waited for Mrs. Maximoff’s text to light up your phone, you haven’t been expecting her too long, 50 minutes or so since you put the twins to bed. your excitement outweighed your impatience, though. exhilaration ran through your body at the thought of flirting with her again. you hoped it wasn’t all in your head, after all, she’s married. your intention wasn’t at all to hurt anyone, certainly not the man signing your paychecks. however, you couldn’t bare to disregard your deep feelings. your body heated intensely every time she came home, after being out all day, her makeup was slightly smudged and sometimes she smelt of dark wine. and in often instances Vision was away on business, these days you let your mind guide you. you got your hopes up every time.

The fog in your mind immediately cleared once you heard Wanda’s car pull up in the driveway. She soon makes her way up to the front door, you attempt to straighten yourself up. You feel the need to be the best for her. "Hey,” the living room couch in the Maximoff’s home is directly behind the entrance. It’s beautifully decorated, you think it’s changed slightly since you’ve last seen it, it’s become more modern, a bit outside of Mrs. Maximoff’s taste. She strikes you as rather more traditional than contemporary. She strolls in (perhaps a bit tipsy), she smells like wine again and a little of cherries. she carries herself constantly well, there’s never a moment where she faults, or fails to attract. Wanda tells you, “I apologize for getting here so late.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind so much. I put the twins to the bed about an hour ago.” You reassure her.

“You’re such a nice young girl, y/n. But I’ve kept you too long, are you hungry?” She expresses.

“No, No,” you laugh, “I’m fine, I promise.”

“Please, I insist. I can make whatever you’d like.”

“Sure,” you smile, you watch her walk away as her loose red hair falls below her shoulders, you wonder what this night entails.

Conversation was difficult to establish, once dinner was made, she made the best dish, (something Sokovian you’ve never heard of before). “I’m so glad you’re here with me,” Wanda places her hand on your knee and smiles, she’s constantly sweet with you, the older woman constantly praises you, reassures you, and she loves how you blush every time a compliment leaves her lips. “It gets so lonely here sometimes, this big house all by myself, Vis is always busy and away at work.” Her touch moves softly up your thigh, you freeze, you can’t imagine this is more than innocent. “You’ll help me, right? Mommy’s all worked up.” Wanda states, clearly insinuating what she wants is more than innocent. What she feels isn’t one-sided, the way she looked at you with her alluring, green eyes and her voice, how it dropped an octave when she called herself ‘Mommy’. It made you want to go along with whatever she asked of you. You didn’t want to ask questions, she made you go dumb.

“Please, tell me you’ll be a good girl for mommy.” Wanda moans. Her fingers on your thigh grow rougher and you found yourself getting wet. “I will”, you reply, “I promise.”

“Come here,” Wanda asks, she wears an all-black suit with such sudden contentment. You obey, of course, her lap spreads with invitation, you hope she doesn’t sense your eagerness. You straddle her thigh, soft with the cloth from her suit. Wanda cups your face, she strokes the inside of your thigh. You fear she can feel your dripping cunt, that she’ll see how desperate you are for her, though, the faint whimpering might’ve given it away. Wanda takes her other hand, she manoeuvres your skirt up so that she can slip her potent hands down your clothed clit.

“You’re so fucking wet, y/n,” Wanda mocks, her eyes fixated on you, she wonders how deep the effect she has on you, and she wonders if she can make it deeper. Suddenly her lips meet yours, her lips feel ever so soft and she tastes of cherries. The kiss was short lived, Mrs. Maximoff then teases your clit with her thumb. “You look so pretty, baby. It’s all for me, right? This dripping pussy, your tits, all mine?”

You try to reply, but with Wanda’s deepen touch, her finger now reaching your aching hole, all you can fuse up is a moan. “Tell me,” Wanda demanded.

“I’m all yours, mommy,” you say. She adds another finger and fingers you even harder and deeper while she gropes your tits. “I know it feels so good baby, you’re doing so well,” Wanda assures. “But you can take another, right? For mommy?”

“Y-Yes, please." You comply. As if you weren’t a moaning mess already, she moves another finger inside you and you could feel yourself coming undone so soon, she’s going too fast, your back arches in need. Your desire for her has never been so profound.

“Tell me what you want, y/n.”

"Please let me cum, mommy, please,” you whine. Wanda smiles darkly, she tells you “Alright, baby, cum for me.”

#wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff #wanda marvel #wanda maximilf #mommy wanda #wanda fanfic #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #wanda maximoff x you #scarlet witch x you #marvel #marvel fanfiction #mcu

[wndaswife]

can u do alittle dark stepmom!dom!wanda smut with fem reader please 🙈 wanda calls reader bunny. innocence kink and strap ond and bulge kink please

wanda maximoff & fem!reader

tags: smut, age play, brief mentions of violence, infidelity, drugging, strap-ons, degradation, praise, manipulation, dubcon, somnophilia, innocence kink, mommy kink, bulge kink, dark!dom!wanda maximoff, sub!reader. MINORS DNI.

word count: 2940

Kicking your feet under the table, you plead for the fifth time since you sat down, “Mama, I’m hungry!”

Soft clattering comes from the stove across the dining room to the kitchen.

“Y/N, if I hear you complain one more time, I’m going to throw your dinner out and you’ll go to bed hungry,” your stepmother calls back, blossoming irritation evident in her voice. You huff in response and sink down in your seat, fiddling with your spoon and continuing to kick your feet under the dining table.

Finally, Wanda comes out of the kitchen with two steaming plates, one for you and the other for her. You straighten in your seat and a wide smile pulls onto your lips as you place your spoon back on the table.

The scent of butter chicken wafts through the dining room and you exclaim, “Smells good!” A bed of white rice can be seen under the butter chicken. Your smile drops the moment the plate is placed in front of you and a medley of colourful vegetables come into view. “Yucky,” you say immediately and push the plate away.

After pouring you a glass of milk and a glass of red wine for herself, Wanda takes a seat beside you, places the drinks down and turns her chair so she can face you. She has the same dish, but it’s covered with much more vegetables than yours. “I don’t want to hear it, Y/N. You’re going to eat the dinner I made you. Your father isn’t going to feed you when he gets home either,” she warns you as she pulls her chair closer to yours.

Your arms are crossed as you look at the plate scornfully. A hand is placed on the side of your chair and Wanda turns it around so you could face her too.

She picks up your fork, scooping up a forkful of rice and chicken and one baby carrot, then lifts it to your mouth. “Open,” Wanda demands simply. Typically, you obey without even a second’s hesitation, but the sight of the squishy orange carrot makes you press your lips together stubbornly. Your stepmother snaps, “Y/N. Open your mouth.”

“You never make butter chicken with vegetables,” you try to protest, speaking through a tight slit between your mouth should Wanda decide to force the fork past your lips.

Wanda’s impatience is increasingly obvious in her heaving sighs and clenched jaw, but she answers you as calmly as possible, “No, but you aren’t eating enough of them, so I cooked them separately and mixed them with the chicken. It tastes the same. Now, open.” She urges the fork forward but you still keep your mouth closed.

But you continue to press on, “Dad doesn’t make me eat vegetables.”

The mention of her husband makes Wanda’s eyebrow twitch upwards in irritation. You recall an argument you heard them have earlier this morning before he left for work, the slamming of doors and exchanging of angry shouts. “And that’s why you act like a stupid spoiled brat,” she spits out angrily. “Open your fucking mouth or I’m going to break your jaw and shove the fork down your throat.” Wanda feels you tremble in her hand, but your lips finally part.

She moves the fork forward and into your mouth. To avoid provoking your stepmother, you wrap your lips around the fork and let her pull it out without any resistance from your end.

After several more forkfuls of your dinner, two thirds of your vegetables eaten, and a few tears from you, Wanda rests your fork down on the edge of the plate. She places both hands on either side of your head and leans herself forward to kiss your forehead. Her fingers interlace themselves in your hair and she scratches your scalp soothingly. “That’s my good girl, hm?” she whispers.

You raise your fisted hands to your face and rub at your tear-filled eyes.

“Come sit on mommy’s lap,” Wanda tells you and straightens in her seat, pushing her chair back to make room for you. You do as she says and your stepmother pulls your plate towards you. Her hands run up your thighs and up your sides, then she does it again, soothing you and your trembling hiccups. “Good girls eat their dinners, right?”

You nod weakly.

“Good girls do what their mommies say, don’t they?”

You nod again.

“That’s right,” Wanda coos. “That means Y/N is a good girl.” She brushes your hair to one shoulder and kisses your neck. “My little bunny is my good obedient girl.”

You turn in her lap and bury your face in her neck. “Mama…” you mutter, your flushed cheeks warm against your stepmother’s skin.

“A quick break and then you keep eating, okay? Since you’ve been so good, I won’t force you to finish, but there’s not much left, baby, so I want to see you take a few more bites and then you can be done,” Wanda says to you. You nod in understanding and she kisses the side of your head before beginning to eat her own dinner, her sweet little stepdaughter clinging onto her body as she did.

Eventually, Wanda washes the dishes in the kitchen downstairs while you get ready. Minutes slip away into seconds as you become distracted by playing with your stuffies. You dress up your dolls too with new clothes your stepmother bought for them amongst many other gifts after getting good grades in your midterms.

When she finally finishes cleaning up downstairs, Wanda comes into your room to see her little girl with four stuffies in her lap as she brushes a dolls’ hair. “Bunny, are you ready for bed?” she asks, revealing her presence in your room to you after watching you play for the last few minutes.

You look back at her and nod with a proud smile. You push your stuffies back where they belong, some of them on your bed and some in a corner of your bedroom, then you put away your dollies too. Standing in the middle of your bedroom, you fiddle with your hands behind your back. “Will you tuck me in, mama?” you request shyly.

A smile forms on Wanda’s face and she approaches you. “Of course, my pretty princess,” she answers. Her hands find your hips and trail up your sides until she cups your breasts. Mama always touches you like this. Makes you feel so happy. Her thumbs tug at the neckline of your top. It’s a long pink cotton tank hemmed with frills and patterned with little white bears. A skimpy loose pair of shorts are paired with it of the same material and pattern. Your stepmother buys many gifts for you, including the pyjama set you’re wearing.

She pulls the neckline of your loose tank down enough for your erect nipples to peek out from them. “So pretty,” she mutters before lowering herself to kiss your breasts and pulling your top back up. Wanda holds your hand and she walks you over to your bed.

There is no resistance from you as your stepmother moves you into your bed and pulls your sheets over you. Her hand intentionally cups your pussy when she pulls you up into a sitting position, and it’s also intentional when she leans forward to kiss your lips and gropes your breast to hold herself up. But you’re so naive and inexperienced, and you know nothing about your stepmother’s intentions even when her fingers brush against your clit through your panties. You’re still so happy when Wanda touches you, no matter where or how she does it.

“Now, medicine,” Wanda says and takes a seat on your bed beside your hip. She pulls a pill out of her jeans’ pocket. There is water in a glass on your nightstand that mommy refills every night and morning to make sure her baby stays hydrated, and so you can take your medicine every night.

You part your lips, and with the pill between her thumb and forefinger and the glass of water in her other hand, Wanda drops the pill on your tongue and lifts the glass to your lips, tipping it forward slightly so you could drink from it and swallow the pill.

Wanda told you that to make up for all the sweets you eat and energy you have during the day, you need special medicine to make you sleepy at bedtime and ensure you sleep throughout the night. Even when you’re already fatigued, your stepmother insists you take it every evening before bedtime no matter what. You’re not allowed to tell your father about it either because Wanda gets your medicine special for you, and she doesn’t want to make her husband jealous.

When she told you that, you felt all happy and giggly to be so special, and you immediately agreed to keep the medicine secret.

When you swallow, mama makes you stick out your tongue so she can make sure you didn’t hide it under your tongue or anywhere else. It’s very important that you take your medicine because mommy said that good girls get good sleep, so you always swallow your pill.

Once Wanda sees that you’ve taken your medicine, she helps you lay down and she pulls the blankets up to your chin. She places a hand on your cheek and leans down to kiss your lips. When you and your stepmother first kissed, you had been nervous because on television only girlfriends and boyfriends kissed. But Wanda had taught you that mommies who were close with their little girls gave them kisses on the lips.

“You were so good today, bunny, eating your dinner,” Wanda praises and you wiggle happily under your blankets. She giggles seeing how happy you are and she kisses your lips again. “It would make mommy so happy if my little girl got some sleep tonight. Can you do that for me, babydoll?”

You nod immediately. “I can do that for you, mommy,” you promise.

“That’s my pretty bunny.” Wanda grins. She stands from your bed and pecks your cheek before flicking on your nightlight and heading to the bedroom door. “Goodnight, Y/N,” she whispers. You say goodnight back and Wanda turns your bedroom light off and closes the door after blowing you a sweet kiss.

The gentle blue glow from your nightlight that decorates your ceiling with pretty white stars fills your sleepy eyes before you finally fall asleep.

You wake after about an hour of sound sleeping to the rocking of your bed. Your room comes into view again, the soft blue light and white stars being projected against your ceiling. The rocking of your bed continues and your weak arms rub at your eyes. The soft pants and grunts from a familiar voice reach your ears. Slowly, you begin to feel that there is someone mounting your body and your blankets have been pushed to the side.

Your head turns and you see your stepmother on top of you, orange hair appearing a dark brown in the shadows of your room. Pressure builds in the base of your spine and you wince. You look down between your legs only to find Wanda thrusting down against your hips with her own.

When your vision comes back to you and your eyes refocus, you see that your shorts have been pulled off along with your panties, your cunt exposed and slick. Your eyes widen and you try squirming away from your stepmother.

“Stop moving,” Wanda’s voice comes, raspy and between pants.

“M-Mama, what are you doing?” you ask her, panicked. “That’s my private part you can’t touch-”

Wanda leans down, kissing and silencing you in turn. “Mommy can touch whatever she wants,” she pants against your lips when she lifts her head. “Because you’re my little girl, and I own you.” You look up at her, both confusion and slow acceptance coming over your face. Your eyebrows are furrowed and your lips are pressed together as strange sensations travel through your body and seem to send tingles up to your very fingertips.

“Besides,” your stepmother adds and straightens so your entire front is exposed. Your tank top is hiked up above your breasts, nipples erect and Wanda’s wet kisses trailed up your stomach. How had you not felt her touch you? You look over to the half-full glass on your nightstand. The medicine. It must’ve kept you asleep. “Look how pretty you are when I fuck you,” Wanda says, a hand running down the plain of your stomach.

You look down to where she’s looking, and your eyes land on her fingers running over a bulge in your lower stomach just about the space between your hips. The moment your sight coincides with the feeling at the base of your spine, the feeling that had only been subtle tingles in your lower stomach becomes stronger. Your back arches from the bed and you squirm underneath your stepmother.

Wanda only laughs in amusement after continuing to thrust herself forward, perhaps after seeing her angel take so long to catch up to what was happening.

You look back down to Wanda’s hips to see a thick member connected to a black harness that was strapped around her hips slipping in and out of your hole. It’s inches wide and so long you have yet to see the tip of it after several moments of watching it squelch in your pussy. It’s incredible how your body is taking it, and it doesn’t come to you that Wanda had fucked you many times before, allowing your hole to develop more tolerance to her cock, especially as she slowly increased her strap’s size the more she snuck into her little girl’s bedroom and fucked her while she slept.

The heel of Wanda’s hand pressed down on her cock’s bulge, causing you to gasp out and rein your attention back down to the present. “Attention on me, bunny,” she says. You detect a hint of desperation in her voice. She leans down again, the thrusts from this angle much harsher because of the downwards propelling of her hips down against yours. It makes it hard to respond when she says, “Tell your stepmother you don’t love her, that you don’t want her cock because there are other prettier, younger girls that my sweet girl would like to fuck instead.”

“N-No!” you protest immediately. “Not true, mama, I love you.” You wrap your arms around her body and you bury your face in her neck.

“You love me, do you?” Wanda asks. You cannot see her face, but her voice sounds so forlorn it makes your chest clench painfully.

You nod into her neck. “I love you. I do, mama, more than dad or any of my friends. I don’t want anyone else but you,” you confess. You only realise how much truth is behind your words when you listen to the desperation in your voice, begging for Wanda to believe you.

But Wanda’s always known how much you love her. She’s never doubted it, even during arguments and your most petulant grudges. “Oh, my precious bunny,” Wanda sighs and moves upwards to press her forehead against yours. “I love you too. I want to see you come for me.”

“What does that mean?” you ask her, looking up at her face pushed up so close to your own. Wanda kisses your lips and whispers something to you. You can hardly hear it as your moans and her grunts mesh together amongst the slapping of your skin and creaking of your bed, but it comforts you nevertheless- the low hum of her raspy voice, words for you and you only. She’d never love anyone like she does you.

Her hand snakes between your stomachs and she presses down on the bulge again, harsher this time, causing you to press your breasts up against hers. You felt immense pressure inside of you. You could feel every inch of your walls that were rubbed against your stepmother’s dick, every thrust deep within your pussy. With one arm around your hips and her other hand cradling the back of your head, your Wanda fucks into you.

The coil that had been forming in your lower stomach snaps and your eyes screw together tightly. You cry out loudly as your orgasm pushes through you, leaving shivers in their wake as your body falls back down onto your bed and your head back onto your pillow.

“See how good you are, baby?” Wanda says, although the world seems muffled as you come down from your climax. Murky, warm fatigue comes over you. Through the warm fog, you can feel your walls clenching around Wanda’s dick, making you feel even lesser in control of your own body. The only sound you can make other than your heaving breaths is an uncomfortable groan when Wanda pulls her cock out of your cunt. You can barely hear her unfasten it from her hips and the sound it makes when it drops to your bedroom floor.

Your stepmother lays down beside you and pulls your blankets over both of your sweaty bodies. She wraps her arms around your shoulders and kisses your face all over. “I love you, Y/N,” Wanda mutters against the top of your head.

You bury yourself in her chest and your knees come up to your stomach while Wanda squeezes you tight and kisses your sleepy face. “Love you too, mama,” you say weakly and manage a blush when Wanda rubs your back, willing you back to sleep.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda x reader #marvel smut #wanda maximoff fanfiction #mommy wanda maximoff #marvel fanfiction #1k celebration ♪( ´▽｀)

[bg-brainrot]

Day four of Astarion x Rogue!Tav winter fluff for the BG3 Winter Holiday Challenge!

Prompt: Mulled Wine

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Premise: Astarion walks into you making mulled wine. He doesn’t understand why you must ruin wine for the sake of winter. When he refuses to see your point, you find another way to show him.

Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Holidays, Alcohol, Kisses, post-cannon

Word count: ~1k

“Darling, what are you doing to that red wine?” Astarion walks into the kitchen, turning his nose up at the concoction you’re stirring.

“I’m making mulled wine,” you say, turning to smile at him. “What do you think I’m doing?”

He gives a single sniff and turns his lips down into a grimace. “My nose tells me that you’re ruining a perfectly good bottle of wine.” You drop the smile and give him a glare.

“What do you mean ruining?” you ask, incredulous. “I’m following the instructions that Gale gave me to the letter. Though I guess I am skipping over some of his longer-winded tangents…” A quick glance over at the notes on the counter confirms your accuracy.

The vampire shakes his head at you and walks up to the stove where you’re still stirring. “I have no doubt that you’re executing it perfectly, dear. You’ve made poisons that require more finesse than this. However, adding all of those spices– and oranges? What was wrong with the original wine?”

“Nothing was wrong. I just wanted to make something seasonal,” you say, feeling the need to defend your creation. You look down at your mixture, at the various pieces of seasonal flavors swirling as you stir, and you’re almost positive that it will taste perfect on a cold winter’s day like today.

“Why not a nice buttered rum? I don’t mind if you torment the rum.”

You roll your eyes at this, knowing full well now that this line of questioning was meant to be entertainment for Astarion. He was likely just bored and wondering why you were spending so much time in the kitchen. “I don’t want buttered rum. Why are you so against mulled wine– when was the last time you even had mulled wine?”

A moment of silence passes between you, and you turn away from your pot to look at him, suddenly fearful that you accidentally struck a nerve you hadn’t meant to. However, he just looks pensive, a single finger tapping his chin thoughtfully. When his answer finally comes, he just says it with a sense of awe, “You know, it’s likely been over 200 years.”

“Oh,” you respond, pursing your lips. You gesture at him with the spoon you’re holding. “Maybe it would be like a brand new experience?”

“It could be,” he responds, and while there’s some hesitation to his tone, he does sound more amenable to the idea now. He wafts the steam from the pot toward his nose, as if a better sniff might change his mind. Instead your lover physically recoils and places a hand over his face. “Gods, what are these spices?”

“Let’s see... cardamom, cinnamon, and star anise,” you recite, looking back at the paper Gale wrote you.

Your lover makes a face at you before he chokes out, “Star anise? That’s where the pungent smell is coming from. Darling, as the resident connoisseur of scents, you should have asked me for your spices.”

“Ah,” you breathe out, understanding dawning on you. You point the spoon at him excitedly, “I got it!”

“Got what?” he says, staring at you blankly. You can feel his assurance in your ability to make mulled wine deteriorating by the second. No matter– you know how to fix this.

Scooping up a bit of your brew in the stirring spoon, you blow gently on it to cool it down and hold it out to him. “Try it.”

“Oh no,” he immediately says, taking a step back. “I refuse to be your test subject.”

“Fine then, let me try it first.” You sip the mulled wine out of the spoon, savoring it on your tongue. It’s sweet, it’s spiced, and it tastes just like cozying up to a fireplace– your face breaks into a wide grin at its rich flavor. As you suspected, the star anise only gives it a subtle note, none of that strong licorice smell it typically has. Astarion wouldn't remember that after hundreds of years away from drinks like this. “Mmm, it’s perfect.”

Astarion looks at you for a second, as if waiting for your composure to crack, your body to convulse with disgust. When nothing happens, he only asks, “What does it taste like?”

“Would you like to try it?” You’re beaming at him now, absolutely certain that this will change his mind about mulled wine.

He still seems cautious, probably wondering if this is all some ruse devised by you and Gale.

Sensing his worries, you scoop another spoonful for yourself, take a drink, and close the distance between you. “Mmm mm,” you say to him, behind closed lips.

“What?” the man asks, raising a single eyebrow at you.

“Mmm mm!” you repeat, pointing to your lips, which you’re emphatically puckering at him.

Your request clicks in his head a moment later and he can’t help the laugh that escapes him. “My love, have I told you that you’re utterly ridiculous lately? Because I feel like you’re overdue.” Nevertheless, he takes a step forward, placing his hands on your waist and pulling you close as he meets your pursed lips with his.

The kiss, much like the mulled wine, starts off sweet but quickly comes with a kick of spice. Astarion’s tongue traces your bottom lip and you open your mouth to allow him in. One of his hands finds your face and angles it to deepen the kiss, locking his mouth with yours to try to keep the wine from spilling.

You feel a few trickles of liquid fall down your chin, but you find that you don’t mind– in fact, the only thing on your mind is the way Astarion’s tongue is relishing the mulled wine. The vampire gives a low hum as his tongue circles yours, tasting the liquid fully. He has yet to run away in revulsion, so you’re pretty sure he likes it. Or at the very least likes kissing you.

When he finally pulls away, a bit short of breath, his lips stained with wine, he gives you a smirk. “I think I finally understand the appeal of mulled wine.”

“So does that mean you liked it?” you ask him, equally breathless.

Astarion swipes his thumb down your chin, wiping away the wine that dribbled down before bringing it to mouth. He gives you a dark, lidded look as he licks it off and gives a rumbling hmm. “I’m not sure yet. You’ll have to give me another taste.”

It’s slow going, but you enthusiastically ensure that your lover gets his fill of mulled wine.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #rogue + rogue #astarion x reader #bg3holidayfluffle23

[ollieneedstherapy]

Solaire clan headcannons

-William when he was first turned could not stand the smell or taste of blood

-Bright eyes LOVES to make Twilight jokes, Fredrick also does it but not as bad

-Lovely, when they found out coconut can be used as an emergency blood transfusion they tried to just drink that but it did not work

-Alexis hates it when anyone reminds her of Sam’s turning, she doesn’t feel bad but she pretends too

-Darlin’ and William meet up once a month to talk about things, it started out political but has just turned into Darlin’ getting drunk and William feeling like he’s young again

-Sam sometimes watches cartoons from when he was kid, his favorite is ATLA

-When it’s one of the vamps birthday’s. William will come over with wine or soda and whatever their favorite cake is

-Sam and Vincent tried to do it for him but no one knows when his birthday is (William doesn’t remember when it is either but he knows what month)

-When Sam was turned William came over to his apartment ever day, to make sure he was drinking, because Vincent was turned he didn’t eat for days and he didn’t want it to happen again

-Lovely is insanely good at Uno, to the point that Vincent thinks they’re cheating

-None of them are straight. None.

-Bright has walked into the sun more then once, Fred had to pull them back

#Bright eyes redacted #Fredrick redacted #William solaire redacted #vincent solaire #lovely redacted #sam collins #redacted darlin #redacted asmr #redacted headcanons