#x thing exploded so nobody gets it. moving on

[loneliestluvr]

𝑪𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 — 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 2

part 1. part 2.

pairing: eris vanserra x archeron oc

synopsis: Caught up in a world of hollow grief for her people, her life, and her father, Blair Archeron is forced into a life under the light she wants no part of after ghosting through immortality since being Made. But what she finds, is not what she expects.

warnings: should have added this in the last one but talking/thinking about loss of pregnancy, being controlled + used, angst, lots of description but Blair gets her lick back a bit 😛 this is also a bit of a slow burn

word count: 2.8k

taryn thinks: so this is gonna be a series and im just kinda holding its hand and letting it guide me rn, i have no planned ending at all or any idea where this is going. bear with me pookies and remember how attracted Feyre was to Rhys without knowing he was her mate please and thank you 🙏🏼

“Eris,” Rhysand’s voice boomed in that firm High Lord tone he only ever used outside of the River House— Blair had only ever heard it once and not ever directed at her. It was that same day and argument Nesta had told Feyre about the threat to her life, to the babe’s life in her womb, when Rhys’ power had exploded and grew so loud and angry Blair had covered her ears and closed her eyes.

Eris. The name rung in her head as her brother-in-law spoke it and her mouth moved before she could think as she tested it silently on her own tongue. Eris.

The second eldest Archeron still hadn’t brought herself to tear her gaze from the male—Eris—before her, taking in every inch of his face. Every muscle ticking in his jaw. Eris’s eyes followed her mouth as she traced his name with her lips and then he finally looked away. As if he couldn’t handle looking another minute.

“This is Feyre’s second oldest sister, Blair.” Rhys continued, and something like panic lit his every word. “She is beautiful, isn’t she?”

But it was almost muffled— the sound of his voice, the music and chatter behind them. Blair’s hands still neatly folded in front of her as she stood there, like there was nothing else in that marble room but her and Eris.

“Divine.” The red haired male murmured and by the way Rhys’ brows shot up just slightly, Blair figured the male wasn’t ever one for so little words.

The sound of his voice washed through her, the heat of her skin only intensifying as it echoed through her ears. She could hear her blood thrumming through her with it, like just this nearness had her body boiling. A sense she couldn’t describe pulling to him.

“Likewise.” The word was out before she could control it, like her inhibitions overtook all.

What is it that you feel, bright one? A cold, unnatural, and otherworldly voice spoke in her head. The same as always when the smoke cleared. Feminine, if Blair could tell— speaking to her as she was sucked back out of her body and it swallowed whatever words were working up her throat. Pulled right back into that unintentional irreverence. You do feel it, I can tell. Pushing me back, for this? For him— for what lurks under?

“I’m sorry for my tardiness,” Blair said, voice vacant. It was some part of their plan, but Blair had been instructed to follow along. Some quiet tucked away part of her, far in the forest of her mind, began to piece information together.

Things she’d learned simply by sitting and listening, and nobody cared about talking in front of the mute immortal who would sooner die than participate in politics or anything relating to the fae realm.

At least that’s what she thought of herself, nobody would say it. Even if that’s what she knew they were thinking. Even if it wasn’t entirely true.

Blair listened, mindlessly and absently, but what else was she to do when she sat in the quiet of her own mind day after day under something else’s control?

She tilled the soil of her mind, planting and working and tending as she sat and listened. Took in every piece of information that seemed so little to whatever she had become after, tucking it away and into her pocket.

But she never participated, couldn’t seem to ever make her mouth move. Could only sit and look out the window as everyone moved around her.

“Nonsense, sister.” Feyre smiled lovingly, the image of a shining star with the way her barely there gown accentuated her growing belly. “You’ve come just in time.”

As if on cue, a soft melodic music that sounded like the forest’s calm embrace started playing. Forest’s that Feyre and her had frequented in the summers when the younger of them was just hitting maturity, welcoming and lovely. Soft and slow, serene. A moment of peace in a world of pain and anger.

Blair took another breath and turned her head to the dance floor, it was her again this time as she spoke so softly it was almost unheard, “I love this type of music.”

“You’d like to know, Eris, that Blair is of the same talent our dear sister Nesta possesses. One that you seem so keen on having her hand in marriage because of.” Feyre says, but Blair’s eyes remain glued to the floor of people dancing so slowly. Seamless in their waltzing, her body almost began moving by itself— fighting every muscle in her to stay present in conversation as she slowed back into her body.

A rage filling some now faraway part of her, screaming and clawing and fighting to push her back again.

But this moment, this day, had been the most lucid she had felt in over a year— like she was waking up and blinking the fog away. Blair could hear clearly, and think, she could see from her own eyes, she was herself then. She was her own.

The reveal of another Archeron sister was not something that Eris had anticipated for. Certainly not something he’d prepared for, he had never let himself become so raw in front of anyone, let alone those of the Night Court.

One look at her… one gaze into those amber flecked eyes and his entire mask had shattered. For a minute too long he had just… stared at her.

Blair. The name danced around in his head, he could see it scripted on pages with a light hand. Those delicate fingers dragging the quill into a mess of curls and lines, her beautiful name printed in his mind. Blair.

“I’m almost certain at this point only beauty comes of your family, if Nesta was that graceful on the floor I can only imagine any of her sisters being equally as talented.” He said without another second, gaze now fixed wholly on the High Lady of the Night Court despite the pounding of his heart in his ears.

“Nesta continues to be… occupied.” Feyre added, almost ignoring any of his ploying compliments and Eris didn’t miss the whites of Rhysand’s knuckles showing as he clutched the arms of his throne.

And it was true, the Illyrian brute that had swept away his hopeful bride had passed her to the aggravating shadowsinger. Eris would not get her back again, not tonight.

“Perhaps my sister Blair would like to join you in a dance or two?” Feyre said next, the question directed for the female next to him.

Something in his chest felt like it would cave in and Eris thought he could have been floating just being next to her. The soft brown of her hair that went almost to her waist, even with it half up in a mound on the back of her head.

Accentuating those beautiful features under the light, lips pronounced and eyes that guttered all the need for dominance from his soul. His mind screamed: Kneel, kneel before your queen and beg to touch her. To smell and taste and feel, to know.

“Blair?” Feyre’s voice rang through his ears again and Blair had seemed like she was so enamored by the music, by the need to be with it, she hadn’t heard the question her sister asked. Then her head turned back to the thrones on the dais.

“I’m sorry,” She said quickly, furrowing her brow slightly as she tuned back in. “—what was it?”

“Perhaps you would like to join Eris for a dance?” Feyre clarified again and she looked from her sister to him, nearly next to Eris and stared for a moment.

“It’d be my honor to dance with the son of a High Lord.” She said, a small smile blooming on her lips.

By the confusion that seemed to broadcast on the High Lord and Lady’s face, Eris figured that Blair Archeron had secrets of her own. That just maybe, like him, she was undermined and looked over in aspects she shouldn’t be.

Eris stepped closer and offered his arm almost mindlessly, eyes tracing every curve of this smart and quick creature’s face. And Blair took it as that song faded out and the crowd prepared for the next one, the cold of her fingers seeped through the fabric of his tunic sleeve. Icy and bitter despite the warmth that flourished on her cheeks, and she let Eris guide her to the floor.

Blair could breathe. She could feel the race of her pulse, however immortal, she could feel the air on her skin and the warmth beneath Eris’s sleeve as she touched him. It felt like her body was on fire— awake.

Eris Vanserra— High Lord of the Autumn Courts eldest son, she had remembered. It had been like a splash of warm water, it had felt good. Different.

Rhys and Feyre’s ramblings about him, about their trades and need to stand against his father. Their effort to sway him should war find Prythian again, Azriel’s updates as she sat in the living room. Absent.

But that fog had cleared, and here she was. Preparing to dance with him. And everything came back screaming.

It was quiet as they prepared for the song to begin, Nesta and Azriel on the other end of the marble floor.

And then the music began and Eris arm wrapped around Blair until his hand laid on the small of her back, fingers of one hand each entwined as they stared into each others eyes.

It wasn’t that Blair couldn’t think or feel it, but her body moved absently off of memory alone as the dance began. Graceful and smooth, gliding as Eris guided her through the movements.

Spinning and twirling and whirling, she could only look at him as they moved. They did not speak, just danced and eyed each other.

Something charged went through the air between them, the close proximity of their bodies, and Blair wanted to know it as equally as Eris. Wanted to welcome it.

He smelled of spruce and warm honey, mahogany and citrus, flames and burning coals. Blair swallowed it down, drank it in and almost closed her eyes from how strong it was.

The pads of his fingers were rough, felt scarred as they held the small of her back and her own soft fingers. The freckles on his skin were similar to hers but brighter, a hue of ginger rather than her umber shaded spots.

And where he touched, across her waist and now one of her hips, burned.

The feeling like a fire, warm and welcoming and home, spilling into her veins like hot oil. And then Eris was dipping her, their faces a mere inch apart and Blair’s lips parted in a breathy gasp.

His eyes watching those perfect lips, trained on them as they stood like that. Dipped over and under one another, Blair’s leg hooked over his hip like she would fall.

But something in those pointed eyes, cunning and lethal, told her he would never let her go.

“Where have they kept you?” Eris asked finally, and brought her back up to a stand as they began again.

“A female is nothing to be kept.” Blair responded as easily as their dancing continued. Reminding herself of the proper terms fae used. “I have heard of how backwards Autumn can be, though. Perhaps that is your way of thinking?”

“You were not there for the war.” It was not the statement he made it, a rephrase of his first question. And he did not scold her for the jab she shouldn’t have made, supposed to be swaying and wooing but instead bit at him like a ravenous dog. “Nobody talked of a fourth sister.”

“I hadn’t realized I owed my life to the Court’s of Prythian or it’s people.” His hands left her body and trailed to the tips of her fingers as she spun out and when she returned his hold was firmer but he smiled, wicked and beautiful. “What?”

That look in his eyes, she couldn’t place it. And her voice held more venom than she intended, despite how soft and sweet it may have sounded aloud.

“You intrigue me, Blair Archeron.” He said and pushed her out again, her dress spinning out at the bottom as she twirled and came back to him. Pressed against his chest, one hand on the back of his neck and he might have shivered. “Trust the most beautiful of your sisters to be the smartest.”

“We’ve shared mere words, what are you basing my intelligence off of?”

“A feeling.”

“A feeling?” She repeated. He nodded and then she was keenly aware of where his hands were, trailing to the base of her own neck— close enough to be courting. More than that.

“Tell me,” Eris started, beginning a box step procedural that she followed. “—have they tucked you away out of fear of what you could become, or fear of what they could lose?”

“Who’s to say I’m not the one who chooses to stay away?” Eris’s eyes glittered with a need to know, like he wanted into her mind to see all of that intrinsic astuteness shrouded by firs and spruce. “Who’s to say I wanted to be a part of this life at all?”

“I offered to give them armies in exchange for your sisters hand and they bring you in.” He states as the song comes to an end and another starts. A rapid tempo, fast and harsh. Mostly string instruments, dramatic. “Why?”

“I was late,” Blair corrects, one hand holding the back of his neck as the other is gripped in his. Larger, muscled, and firmer than Blair’s delicate, soft, and teasing hand. “—you must be a terrible listener.”

Amusement lit Eris’s eyes as he held an arm around her waist, fingers brushing her ribs.

“Did they keep you away because of your mouth, then?” He crooned, their bodies moving seamlessly to the upbeat music. Stepping and spinning all at once, matched with the other pairs of dancers on the floor.

“What of my mouth?”

“What of it, indeed.” He smiled, eyes flicking to the rich ridges of her garnet colored lips. Blair’s cheeks heated and for the first time her eyes flicked away from his face. Anywhere but him as they landed on Azriel and she almost breathed in relief when she found that his eyes were already on hers.

A silent question in them and Blair blinked softly in response.

“Would you believe me if I said the second I saw you, I forgot about Nesta completely?” Eris whispered into her ear, lips brushing against the hair that curled there. So close she could feel the heat of his breath, like a flame licking her skin.

She cursed the part of her that wanted to feel that heat in other places and shoved it down. She looked back to Eris, noses nearly touching with the proximity this dance required.

“And what if I am already spoken for?”

Questions, so many questions with him. And Blair just fed them back as if the answers were in the questions themselves, a proper response unneeded.

“Are you?” His brows raised.

“No.”

It was simple, nothing further needed and she didn’t understand why she cared to tell a male she had met mere minutes ago that she was available. The first other than Rhys, Lucien, Azriel, Cassian and the blonde male she had set her eyes on since coming here. Since being forced here.

“They must do it to you all then.” Eris said, smile fading into a tighter one as he saw that look in Blair’s eyes. “Dwindle your flame, drown it out, waste you.”

“My sister and her mate have been gracious to me in my… adjustment. I have nothing to complain about, and certainly nothing to waste.”

Eris shook his head so barely as they spun Blair almost didn’t catch it, disbelief in every beautiful crook of his utterly handsome face.

“All of you is wasted, my dear Blair. They are blind if they cannot see what lives inside of you, your fire, whatever that power is and whatever you are now.”

Perhaps it was because Blair didn’t even know what was inside of her, why her chest warmed on its own for the first time in over a year just now, but she didn’t say another word.

When the music ended, she bowed before Eris as any graceful courtier would— a dismissal on her part before she stepped back and allowed for him to bow in return.

But he did not, and only stared at her as if he couldn’t—wouldn’t—bring himself to say goodbye. We are not done playing, Blair Archeron, was what his eyes added as Azriel swept her from the floor and the room all together.

His eyes followed her the whole way and that cold returned as soon as she left his line of sight.

🏷️: @prythianpages @impossibelle @readychilledwine

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra x oc #eris vandaddy #autumn court #night court #Rhysand #blair archeron #feyre archeron #pro nesta #nesta archeron #Cassian #lord of bloodshed #Azriel #elain archeron #a court of silver flames #acosf #it’s manorian on another life lol #me when i have no idea where im going with this #errrmmmmm

[tidal-chaos]

i have no idea if this will reach the target audience but...

for any introject whose source characters eye color was ambiguous in canon, either intentionally or otherwise, what color did you get introjected with? was it a seemingly random color? was it a color your& headmate(s) headcanoned your source to have? was it a color with significance to you(&)? or did your& brain short circuit and decide to give you an entirely non-canon and entirely bonkers set of eyes?

mine was the last one. my source character is notorious in the fandom for never having their eyes consistently described, as in, they would be blue on one page and then called yellow two pages later. so clearly i would have rainbow eyes that look like theyre melting on my face. obviously. (/lh /s)

#the source character in question is dovewing from warriors #i guess the brain got confused about what eye color i would have #that or it thought itd be funny to give me rainbow alien eyes #“if life wont give me comedic relief ill just make my own” #-my brain probably #idk why i had to be the comedic relief tho #but this is one way to avoid debates over canon attributes ig #if choosing one or the other starts a fight on which is “correct” #then choose neither. now no ones happy #theres a debate on which hot boy should date the protagonist? #depict the protagonist as suddenly head over heels for the starbucks barista #theres a debate on who shouldve gotten x thing? #x thing exploded so nobody gets it. moving on #point is #if all the “available” options angers someone #then dont choose an “available” option and confuse everyone #this is the solution my brain has come up with apparently #and you know what? i dont disagree #now here come the regular tags: #plurality #plural system #plural community #plural things #introject #system #system memes #plural questions #plural meme #plural memes #i went on a tangent but this is tumblr

[caelisblade]

¡! JUST A LITTLE BIT … | zhongli, alhaitham, neuvillette

inspired by isabel larosa's unreleased song, older and the tiktok edits with my favorite men <3 | three separate fics / drabbles

… think i need someone older.

zhongli x reader

tw: age gap (not specified how much, but min. 20); (fem!-)reader is younger, no specified age but at least 19; daddy kink; pet names (sweetheart, love, angel), overstimulation

“oh, sweetheart”, zhongli couldn’t help the groan escaping his throat, the pure bliss coursing through his body when he felt your folds engulf his cock. he couldn’t help his instincts and just leaned down, burying his face against your neck as he bit down, leaving his mark on your skin as he smiled and gently kissed it.

“you look so pretty with my mark. i want to cover you in them”, he groaned, his hands gripping your hips as he slowly pulled out before he buried his cock inside again, the soft whimper you let out, closing your eyes to a squint in pleasure as you felt a little knot form in your tummy, moaning in pleasure as he kept on moving his hips against yours.

“mhm, daddy”, you whimpered, “you feel so good. you make me feel so good.”

“do i, love? you’re so gorgeous when you fall apart on my cock”, zhongli let out a grunt in pleasure, feeling himself get closer to his climax. “i’m so close, sweetheart. you always make me feel so good, angel.”

just as he felt the coil in his stomach explode, he pulled out, shuddering at his own denied climax, grinding his cock against your drenched cunt. he was groaning as he watched the spurts of cum spread on your pussy and some drops on your tummy. zhongli couldn’t help the little feel of embarrassment as he realized he just ended up cumming like a horny teenager from how you made him feel.

“oh, my sweet baby, you look so pretty when you’re covered in my cum. what would my innocent daughter think of her best friend if she saw you like this, angel?”, he mumbled, trying to distract himself from his embarrassment, scooping up some of his cum with his finger, and spreading it over your clit, smiling as your tiny, body shuddered at the sudden stimulation, hips twitching up and you let out a soft sob.

the thought of his daughter, your closest friend in college finding you being screwed by her dad scared you. but in that moment, you were simply unwilling to think of it.

“please, daddy. i don’t care how she’d think of me. just make me feel good”, you whimpered, your soft and gentle voice reminding him that the pleasure of his sweet angel was a much bigger priority to him than his own. or thinking of his daughter in this moment.

zhongli aligned his tip against your entrance, smiling as he teased you. “god, i love you so much, baby”, he mumbled against your neck, slowly pushing his cock back in as he had you whimpering in pain and pleasure. “let me make you feel good, angel. let me make you feel heights of pleasure nobody of your stupid college ever was able to. hm? how does that sound, baby? nobody ever would be able to make you feel as good as me, right?”

he clicked his tongue in disapproval as he watched you nod, unable to speak up at this point. the pleasure made your eyes glassy, brain hazy from him making you cum at least three times before you started to lose count.

“please, daddy. please, make me feel good”, you whined, clinging onto his shoulders as he increased his pace out of nowhere, the sounds of skin slapping against skin growing louder by every single thrust, making you cry out in pleasure. “please, i’m so close.”

“oh, you’re close, angel? well, let’s speed things up, shall we?”, he smirked, circling your clit with his thumb in an increased pace as he continued fucking you hard, rough, absolutely unrelenting.

the moment you finally came around him, you cried out his name, forgetting about his rules of only addressing him as daddy when you were in bed, mind too blurry and hazy to remember after so many times of intense, earth-shattering orgasms.

“oh, angel”, he whispered against your neck, “you’re so beautiful when you come around me. look how much you came on me, what a mess you made of the bed.”

“i’m sorry”, you whimpered on auto-pilot.

“oh, no, angel. i love it when you make a mess of me”, zhongli then shushed you down gently, “you did so well for me, love. took me so well tonight. you’re incredible for keeping up with me. i know i can be too much at times. unfortunately, though…”, he continued as he drew random shapes on your body. “we’re not really done yet, angel. i got so much more to do to you right now. i want you to be a completely dripping mess, love.”

… just a little bit colder.

alhaitham x reader

tw: frustrated alhaitham, degradation??, name-calling (slut), doggy-style

pressing your head against the pillows with one hand as he fucked you, holding your hands firmly pinned against your back with the other, he sure as hell was not playing around tonight.

before you could even ask your boyfriend how his day was when he came home, you noticed from his facial expression that he was not in the mood for joking around. it was so clear he had a rough day and was angry at something or someone that wasn’t you.

it simply meant he just needed his stress relieved by fucking you into oblivion.

“oh, fuck, god, you’re so fucking tight, relax a little bit, you fucking slut”, he groaned, “you’re squeezing me in so tight, love. i need you to relax a bit.”

you tried to lift your head a bit to catch a breather, trying to relax your body from the intense pleasure he always managed to make you feel. “baby, i’m so close”, he groaned, hips snapping against yours in a rough and hard pace. “you’re going to make me come so hard. where do you want it, baby? inside? on your back? god, i’d love to paint your back in my cum. you’d look so hot, angel.”

he was blabbering as the pleasure blurred the line between his ability to think rationally and the need to just shut down and not care about anything else. “on my back, please”, you beg, voice muffled from how he was pressing your face against the pillows.

“oh, you fucking cumslut. you love that, don’t you?”, he groaned and just as he felt his climax, he finally pulled out and jerked himself off to finish off, his sticky cum covering your back in little lines. “fuck, you look so gorgeous covered in my cum. but don’t worry, hun. i got more of that. i’ll make such a fucking mess of you until you’re not only covered in my come but you’re dripping with it.

“please”, you whimpered, lifting your head finally after he let go of your strands of hair, finally able to catch a proper breather. “need more.”

“oh, you’re so needy, angel. thought this was about me getting out my frustrations on you?”

just before you could reply, he buried his cock inside of you again, moaning as you felt so full of him, hips shuddering in pure pleasure as you finally came around him, covering his cock in your creamy slick, more and more with every thrust he delivered as he let you ride out your climax.

“fuck, baby, you’re so incredible. i don’t even remember what i was mad about”, he chuckled, planting a soft kiss on your shoulder. “you took me so well, angel. i’m proud of you.”

take the weight off your shoulders…

neuvillette x reader

tw: stressed out and emotional neuvillette, oral (m receiving), he calls you his pretty wife, unprotected sex, breeding kink

“are you okay, neuvi?”, you asked your husband, noticing how deep in thoughts he was as he sat on the couch after a long day at work. “you’re so lost in thoughts. a penny for your thoughts?” you gently massage his shoulders, planting a soft kiss on his head.

he chuckled slightly. shaking his head.

“i had this… discussion with navia today. you remember her?” he proceeded once you nodded.

“she was the daughter of the previous president of the spina di rosula, right?”

“yeah… she was in my office today. and we discussed her father’s passing. and… it was like a reality check. it made me realize how cold our laws here in fontaine are. i always knew there was something odd about her father’s case. i never acted upon it. i should have. but i didn’t”, neuvillette explained, sighing, trying to hide the fact that tears were burning in his eyes.

“listen, dear. yes, you could have acted upon your instinct. but you are not the one who killed him. this would be an entirely different conversation if you did”, you went around the couch and kneeled down in front of him, holding his hand gently. “i’m incredibly proud of you for always handling these cases so professionally just to let lady furina have her five minutes of fun in court.”

“but–”

“no buts. listen to me, neuvi. you’re working so hard to make life in fontaine so easy and full of order. you shouldn’t be that focused on what could have been but what is coming. let me help you distract yourself a little bit from all the stress you’ve been feeling recently, love.”

you slowly unbuttoned his pants as you pulled the fabric down, slowly pulling out his cock from his boxers as you softly plant a kiss on the tip, smiling as his cock twitched. you couldn’t help a little giggle at each twitch, before you had your lips around his tip and sucked slowly.

“mhm, fuck, take me in deeper, love. i know you can”, he groaned, fingers burying into your hair as he slowly moved his hips up. it was rare for him to lose his composure like this but it made you incredibly happy to know that he was indeed distracted for once.

“mh, no. i… need you. more than this. please”, he mumbled, pulling you up from your kneeled position as he pulled off your shorts and panties before he pulled you onto his lap, aligning his cock with your entrance and having you slowly ease down, groaning as he felt your wetness engulf him.

“fuck, you feel so good, my beautiful wife. always know how to make me feel good, don’t you?”

you whimpered as you felt him thrust up as you rode him like your life depended on it.

“so, tell me, angel, where to you want it? inside? of course you do. you want me to breed you full, don’t you? just fill you up with my cum over and over until i have my baby fucked into you, don’t you? oh, fuck, honey, you’re going to make me cum so hard”, he groaned, body tensing up just before he relaxed again, finally coming buried deep inside of you. “come on, baby. come for me. you want it so bad, don’t you, angel?”

it wasn’t long until you felt the coil in your tummy snap, hips shaking uncontrollably as you finally reached your climax, shuddering in pure pleasure.

“fuck, baby. you’re so fucking beautiful when you’re so full of me. i need so much more. can you handle it?”

#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin zhongli #zhongli smut #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham smut #genshin neuvillette #neuvillette smut #(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟalhaitham #(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟzhongli #(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟneuvillette #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #zhongli x reader #neuvillette x reader

[blitzyn]

prospect

toji fushiguro x m!reader

request: none

a/n -> sighs and explodes i need this man injected in my blood right NOW. nobody will be able to convince me that this man doesn’t have a breeding kink. sometimes i forget im writing for real people on a real platform and it jump scares me when people comment on my work. but in a good way ofc i love seeing people’s thoughts on my stuff. ANYWAYS. REQS.

wc -> 4.7k words of filth LMAO

cw -> anal fingering, anal sex, spit as lube, throat fucking, using “pussy” and “cunt” as a synonym, mild impact play, breeding kink, mirror sex, finger hooking, bondage, begging, brief gun play, when i say “little” i mean that in a condescending sorta way and not bc the reader is described to be petite and tiny, not beta read obv

"You're a tricky one, I'll give you that," is the first thing the man before you said. It'd been quite a while since the first time the two of you met in a dingy bar hidden in the sketchier parts of town. He hadn't been trying to kill you then - he was but a fellow patron eager to ruin his liver. Originally, he had a strange gut feeling about you. Like a pretty thing like you wasn't all it seemed, but he shrugged it off after a well-placed look from you offering to buy a couple more rounds.

So when he's given another job, the first thing he does is laugh. He didn't really mean it at first, but really, the irony was hilarious. The guy he nearly got to fuck was his current target: [Name] [L.Name], a rising Jujutsu Sorcerer. He obviously wasn't as strong as the esteemed Gojo Satoru or Geto Suguru, but he was advancing a little faster than many would've liked.

"Thanks. I tried," you replied, seeming much too relaxed for a man about to be assassinated. You were currently stuck on the floor with your arms tied behind your back and your legs bound together by plain, old, ordinary rope. You were a little embarrassed, truthfully, to have been caught by such a mundane trap like this.

You struggled against your restraints a bit, sighing in defeat when you only served to remind yourself just how stuck you were. "These are pretty secure," you started, giving the man before you a laidback smirk. "You experienced?"

Toji gave you a quizzical look for a moment before breaking out in an amused grin, resting his handgun against his shoulder. He definitely wasn't expecting his target to start flirting with him instead of pleading for his life like he was used to. But he'll entertain you for a while. "You could say that."

You huffed through your nose, your eyes lazily flitting around the room. You were making your way back inside the abandoned building you chose to hide in when you suddenly found yourself tied up. It took you a moment to realize you couldn't move when he appeared in front of you, but even less to recognize him as the man you almost got to sleep with. "I would've loved to have you tie me up back then, but this wasn't really what I was thinking about."

"Your phone's a real cockblock, huh?" He chuckled lightly, in an almost mocking manner from what you managed to detect in his voice. "Can't even begin to imagine how long you've had to go without gettin' laid."

You rolled your eyes like he wasn't only there to kill you and get his money. "Don't get me started. There's always something new I have to kill every fuckin' second. My boss thinks it's great training to go out whenever I can."

Right. Technically, you weren't a fully-fledged Sorcerer. You had more of a vigilante-esque vibe to you. You hadn't attended either Jujutsu High School in Tokyo or Kyoto as well, only taught by your family and experiences. Not that that really mattered anyway. You fought, you got strong, and now someone put a hit on you.

You sighed, shifting your body to a more comfortable position before tilting your head back against the wall. “This is the part where I beg for my life, right?” You questioned rhetorically, with an almost bored expression on your face before your eyes lit up with an idea. “I’m not too good at that, but I am good at begging for something else.”

Toji raised an eyebrow in intrigue, unable to fight off the grin at the obvious implication. He didn’t stop you from shamelessly checking him out, but he cut your ogle session short regardless.

“Yeah? Care to elaborate?” He made his way closer, crouching in front of you to get a better view of your face. He knew what you were asking for. He just wanted to know if you’d follow through with it.

Maybe it was the adrenaline making you bold, knowing that he could easily kill you with the pull of a trigger—or maybe it was just because he was really fucking hot. With a quick, obvious glance to his crotch (you could see the imprint of his dick through his sweatpants), you spoke clearly. “I want you to fuck me.”

He liked how forward you were, how unafraid you were to say what you wanted. He swiped his tongue over his lips and nearly laughed at how your eyes darted downwards to watch it. “You call that beggin’?” He taunted, raising his arm to press the tip of his gun against your chin to tilt your head up. “Do it right.”

A shudder ran through your body at his demand, leaving a trail of heat that settled right into your groin. You felt hyper aware of everything—of the cool metal on your skin, of the faint gunpowder scent emanating from the barrel, of your heartbeat thrumming so hard you briefly wondered if he could hear it.

“Oh, please, Mr. Fushiguro,” you whined, staring up at him through your lashes pleadingly. You tried to squeeze your thighs together as you squirmed, attempting to provide your hardening dick friction. “Please fuck me. I’ve been thinking about this whole time. I need it so much.”

“Well, aren’t you a confident little thing,” he remarked with a thoughtful hum, carefully inspecting your reactions. “But what makes you think I won’t just kill you and get my money?”

“Because you haven’t yet,” you replied with a smug undertone in your voice, like you figured him all out. Although, when he dragged his gun up towards your lips, a brief wave of fear washed down your body, settling deep in your chest.

“Really? That’s all you’re going off of?” He tilted his head, watching you through the dark curtain of hair that fell over his piercing eyes. “That’s cute.” He held his finger over the trigger, teasingly flexing it before relaxing just as fast. He found it funny how your confident facade slipped away the moment you remembered that you weren’t talking to a casual friend—that the Sorcerer Killer himself was staring you down the barrel of his gun. But, apparently, that’s what got you all hot and bothered.

“I didn’t think you’d be this desperate.” His scarred lips curled upwards in a predatory grin as he nudged the tip of his gun against your mouth, prying it open. You fought the urge to squirm when he pushed it further, jaw straining, but you tried your best to comply. “You seemed all mysterious ‘n’ unassuming back at the bar. What happened to that? Got me feelin’ like I got the wrong person with the way you’re actin’.”

You tried to shake your head while a garbled noise left your throat, but he kept you firmly in place as he pushed it as far as he could go. Even as you squinted, it was hard not to practically eyefuck him where you sat. Your watery irises trailed over the length of his arm, tracing the bulging veins that patterned over his forearm, dipping back underneath his skin before reappearing in his thick bicep. His shirt did little to hide his chest, squeezing in just the right places to render any woman jealous.

You couldn’t stop your gaze from wandering down, down towards his legs, zeroing in on the dick print he so obviously flaunted like a trophy. Your mouth watered, suddenly finding it hard to swallow. You slid your tongue over the rough metal, imagining that it was his cock stretching your eager throat wide open; imagining the salty taste of his precum, of the scent of his musk, of—

“My eyes’re up here, pretty boy,” he interrupted, pressing the gun up against your palate to snap you out of your stupor and avert your gaze. “If you’re gonna deny bein’ a slut, at least act like it.”

He pulled it out of your drooling mouth, wiping the string of saliva off on your cheek before setting it on the floor with a dull thud. Your face was messy, chest heaving up and down as you panted, expectantly waiting for him to continue like a lost puppy.

“You’re so damn easy,” he commented teasingly, reaching down to palm his cock through his pants. It throbbed under his touch, leaking precum and straining against the fabric. “If I’da known all it took for you to get all nice ‘n’ compliant f’me was a dick down your throat, I’d have my money by now.” There was a hint of honesty to his voice that you couldn’t even find in yourself to protest.

“Please…” you breathlessly whined, trying to writhe out of your binds, but it was tied too tightly around your body to free yourself. “I want it. Stop messing with me.”

“I know.” He reached down to shift you onto your knees, steadying you with a firm hand on the back of your neck. You watched him slide his free hand under his pants to pull his thick cock out, eyes fixated on the leaking tip. He wrapped it around the shaft and leisurely jerked himself off, the wet sounds of his precum sliding along the shaft mixing in with your labored breaths and his quiet groans.

Finally, after what felt like decades, he shuffled forward just enough to press himself against your lips, finding little need to nudge his way inside when you so eagerly parted them for him. You let out a pleased noise at the taste of his precum, beginning to squint and fight the urge to gag when he refused to stop until your nose was buried in his pubes. He held you there for a moment, enjoying the sight of your throat bulging to accommodate his cock.

“You’re takin’ me in so easily,” he purred, sighing in satisfaction at the feeling of your tongue tracing over a prominent vein, making him twitch in your mouth. “Is this what you do? Use your body to live a little longer? 'Cause I gotta say, whatever you're doin' is really payin' off."

You visibly preened at his praise, feeling your dick strain against the fabric of your pants. He let you move at your own pace, watching you hollow your cheeks and slide and bob your head up and down. He was thick and long and made your jaw ache in the best way, utterly infatuated with his scent, with his taste, with the way he let you go at your own pace—but you knew better. You knew that he could easily take that control away from you and fuck your face.

You kind of wished he did, honestly.

With a bit of effort, you pulled away from his cock, breathing heavily. Your voice was shaky but it was firm, determined to get what you wanted. “Fuck my throat,” you demanded, staring up at him through your lashes. He gave you an intrigued smile, clearly pleased with your eagerness to be used like a toy.

“You sure? ‘Cause I’m not stoppin’ til I cum,” he warned. He hardly gave you enough time to reply before he held the base of his cock, gently tapping the tip against your slick lips to get you to open up wide again, obviously unconcerned with your response. “But if you really insist, then who am I to say no to a pretty thing like you?”

He adjusted his stance, towering over you with both his hands atop your head. He allowed you to take a deep breath before pulling you to him just as he shoved his cock back down your throat. You were still unused to him, nearly choking at the sudden movement, feeling tears pool along your lashes. You could’ve sworn his musk was an actual aphrodisiac. It was all you could smell, filling up your nostrils to render your mind a pathetically fuzzy mess.

“Thaaaat’s it,” he drawled out, staring you down with enough heat in his eyes to practically glue you to the floor. You weren’t even sure if you’d get up and leave if he gave you the chance to. Probably not, frankly. Not with the way his strong hands so easily kept you in place, nor with how he strained your jaw—infatuated with every inch and vein and his salty precum. “Take it all, baby.”

He chuckled to himself, not bothering to hide the condescension in his voice. “But I didn’t need to tell you that, huh? Is this muscle memory takin’ over?” Despite his words, his brows were furrowed, focused on thrusting his hips, stoking the rising fire in his abdomen. His rhythmic groans were music to your ears, mixing in with your wet gags and the faint sound of his balls slapping your chin.

“Fuck,” he panted, taking one hand off to wipe your hair off of your forehead and get a look at your watery, unfocused eyes. It sent a heat down his spine that made his cock jolt at the sight of your blissed out face. “You’re so damn tight… gonna make me cum.”

“Is that what you want?” He grunted, digging his fingertips into your skin. “Y’think it’s what you deserve?” For a moment, you were worried he was going to stop. But he didn’t really, instead he kept you still, holding you at a distance to make sure you didn’t accidentally pass out. “I wanna hear you beg for it.”

You blinked your tears away and looked up at him, squinting, confused when he hadn’t let you go yet. It took you a second to piece together what he wanted of you, and felt the burn of embarrassment trickle down your spine and settle into your chest when you did. He wanted you to beg with his cock in your mouth. You were quiet, unsure how to respond without choking and coughing into next week.

“C’mon,” he persisted, his scarred lips lifting in a grin. “I know a little slut like you can do it.”

With a deep breath, you attempted to get your words out through muffled sounds that very vaguely sounded like sentences. It was humiliating—letting him use you to entertain himself like this, but it was an exhilarating feeling that made your cock twitch and throb, aching to be touched.

“Sorry, what was that?” He questioned mockingly, expression laced with faux concern. “Do you mind repeating that?”

You paused, staring up at him pleadingly, but when that didn’t seem to work, you tried again. Drool seeped out the corners of your lips, trailing down your chin. It was hard to breathe and form coherent thoughts. Your cock throbbed and ached to be touched, finding your pants to be uncomfortably suffocating.

“Was that so hard?” He questioned rhetorically as he tugged your face close again, savoring the feeling of your throat squeezing around his dick before beginning to fuck it. He groaned when he felt you run your tongue over the veins, the vibrations of your voice sending heat through his body that he eagerly chased.

He swore under his breath, panting, focused on the tightening coil in his abdomen. “Shit—I’m about to—fuck—cum.”

You moaned when you felt him still, pressing your face into his pelvis to make sure every drop of his cum went down your throat. It was difficult to swallow, letting your eyes flutter shut until he was finished. Your vision was a bit blurry when he finally decided to pull away, leaving you gasping and panting.

“I want—I need you to fuck me,” you slurred, desire flashing brightly in your eyes. Your voice was raw and hoarse and raspy, but there was no hiding your desperation. “Please. I need it so bad it fucking hurts. Please, Fushiguro.”

“I just got done cumming down your throat and you’re already askin’ for more?” He chuckled condescendingly, reaching out to swipe the pad of his thumb along your chin to gather the mix of saliva cum. He brought it to your lips, watching you wrap them around his finger and suck the fluids off his skin. “You needy whore. You’re lucky I’m not in any rush right now.”

With a swift hand, he untied the rope holding your legs together to lead you to a different spot, confident that you wouldn’t make a break for it. Not that you could nor wanted to, anyways.

The mirror before you was dusty and cracked, but it still served its purpose well. He kicked your legs apart and brought you back down to your knees, lowering himself behind you with a firm grip on the back of your neck. You nearly came on the spot when he squeezed your aching cock, hips jerking needily, but he let go in the blink of an eye to unzip your pants and bring them down far enough to expose your ass. He brought two fingers to your lips and dipped them inside your mouth with his other hand, coating them with your saliva rather haphazardly.

He swiftly brought them back down, running them over your balls and perineum teasingly, grinning at your sharp intake of breath. He slid the pads of them over your hole, just barely pushing them through to feel the resistance give way before pulling them back out.

“I swear to god, I’ll—“ you tried to threaten, only to be cut off by a whorish moan that Toji managed to tear from your lips when he shoved his fingers inside you. They pressed against your prostate, firm and unrelenting, rubbing it just the slightest bit to keep you reeling. The sudden stretch fucking burned as you clamped down on him like a vice, wincing and groaning.

“You’ll what?” He urged, eyes fixated on your face, watching every single muscle twitch, noticing the way your cock spurt a fresh stream of precum down the throbbing shaft. “C’mon, don’t get all shy on me now. What were you saying?”

He thrust his fingers in and out slowly, emphasizing the wet squelching sounds of your asshole. You could feel his breaths brushing against your heated skin, sending shivers up and down your spine that ended in your fingertips. Your knees ached and your arms were growing numb from being tied back for so long but you figured you could ignore it for a little while longer if it meant you’d get what you wanted. His dick, namely.

“I’ll—agh, fuck—I’ll…” you trailed off, hardly able to form a coherent sentence with the way he massaged your prostate so perfectly. “Just… just shut up,” you muttered finally, breathless and unfocused as you stared at the spot you connected from the reflection in the old mirror. A subtle feeling of embarrassment settled in your heaving chest when you heard the raspy sound of his chuckle.

“Is that it?” He taunted, locking eyes with you. His free hand slid upwards, teasing your nipples through your shirt to watch you squirm. “I thought you’d put up more of a fight. I’m startin’ to question whether or not you’re really some hotshot Sorcerer.”

It was hard to refute him when you looked the way you did—all messy and disheveled and desperate, hard for the man supposed to kill you. You were completely unlike yourself hardly half an hour ago, but you barely gave a shit. How could you when the hottest man you’ve ever seen was behind you, fingerfucking your eager hole? Chances like these don’t come often to you, that’s for sure.

You shivered and moaned, leaning back against his chest. Your hips practically moved on their own accord, thighs flexing to keep yourself upright as you tried to fuck yourself on his thick digits. Toji could see the way your eyes unfocused and glossed over with understimulated tears, frustrated and horribly pent-up.

He gave your prostate a quick jab, firm enough to intensify the heated coil in your belly, but too fast to savor. He wasn’t planning on giving in to you so easily as he avoided your sensitive spot, instead moving his fingers in a scissoring motion to stretch you out.

“God—stop doing that,” you pleaded. You felt like an open book, unable to stop yourself from furrowing your eyebrows in annoyance or conceal the painstakingly obvious glint of hunger in your pupil-blown irises.

“Quit whinin’ and maybe I’ll consider it,” he murmured gruffly, enraptured by the way you writhed and squirmed and looked just downright pathetic. You both knew he wouldn’t, not when all the others he’s fucked couldn’t hold a candle to your pliant little body. You knew why he was there in the first place, but still, you remained there on your knees even when he untied them.

You nearly let out a sob when he curled his fingers again, offering you the barest of touches to your prostate that sent liquid fire coursing through your veins.

“Fuck, please,” you begged, yet again. You didn’t know much of this you could take or how long it’d be until he caved. God, was it so much to ask for a man to fuck you stupid?!

“I want your cock inside me so bad, fucking me fast ‘n’ hard ‘n’ deep,” you slurred, hardly able to maintain even the barest shred of dignity. You looked into his deep, green eyes through the mirror’s reflection, hoping he’d relent.

“Yeah? Y’want me in this slutty pussy?” He purred, sliding his slick fingers out of your twitching hole to give it a sharp slap. You jolted just as a spurt of precum slid down your hard cock, leaking onto your clothed, heaving abdomen. He chuckled breathlessly as he leisurely rubbed your puffy rim with the pad of a finger. “You should’ve just said so.”

He wiped his fingers off on the back of your shirt, offering you an oblivious shrug when you glared at him through the mirror. Your knees ached when he had you lean forward a little, placing your more of your weight on the poor joints as he reached down to quickly jerk himself off before tapping the tip of his dick on your asshole one, two, three quick times.

It felt like he was splitting you apart when he finally decided to push through after spitting on your hole, groaning at the way you squeezed around him tighter than a damn virgin. It hurt like a bitch. Of course it did—you made him rush and he was using less than ideal lube, but, God, you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t feel so fucking good.

You watched him lean back a little and hold you by the ropes binding your arms together, rolling his hips experimentally, only to grind his cockhead into your prostate so deliciously you saw stars. A searing heat enveloped your body, blinding you with white that took you far too long to come down from. Opening your eyes (you didn’t even realize you closed them), you instantly spotted your twitching cock drooling cum onto the floor. Fuck. He didn’t even start and you came.

“That was so damn fast.” He couldn’t be bothered to stop the hint of a laugh from leaving his throat. With his free hand, he reached down and gave your throbbing dick a squeeze, stroking it with a tight grip to milk out the rest of your cum.

You shuddered and trembled, biting your lip to stifle your moans. He let go to stuff two of his slick fingers in your mouth, careless with how deep he forced them in. Not that you really minded as you swirled your tongue around his skin, readily cleaning it off. You locked eyes, keeping your expression firm in a weak attempt to regain even a sliver of composure when he suddenly moved, giving you a quick, harsh thrust that nearly knocked the air out of your lungs.

He shifted his fingers, curling them as they pulled on your cheek, tugging at the flesh until he forces your mouth wide open. You couldn’t stop your tongue from lolling out, jaw slack as you drooled and whined and cried every time he rammed his thick cock into your eager fuckhole. He was relentless—pounding into you fast and hard and deep, just like you begged for so prettily.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned, digging his fingertips into the flesh of your hip hard enough to leave bruises, arms flexing to yank you back as soon as he pulled out. “Your pussy’s so damn tight,” he panted, brows furrowed in focus, relishing in the sound of his hips slapping your ass and your whorish moans. “M’gonna make sure your messy little cunt remembers my cock by the time I’m finished with you.”

“Uh-huh, mhm,” you nodded, hands itching to grab onto his biceps, his back, something to ground yourself while he churned your insides to mush. It was nigh impossible to think or breathe or speak, but it felt so fucking good.

“Awh, look at yourself,” he cooed, his voice slightly jumpy as he let go of your mouth to roughly pat your cheek, forcing you out of your stupor to make you stare at your reflection. “Are you out of it already? Should I stop?” He questioned, his raspy voice laced with faux concern.

“No! N-No,” you stammered, finding it difficult to comprehend what he was saying until moments later, alerted by the word “stop”. “Don’t stop! Ohh, oh god, please don’t stop!”

You’re so, so sensitive and so full, and you can feel him losing his rhythm. His cock is heavy in your stomach and you swear through your addled brain it’s weighing you down as a trail of precum connects your heated bodies together, frothing between your thighs and his balls.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he grunted, gritting his teeth. He could feel the burning coil in his abdomen intensify with each passing second, and suddenly he’s speeding up, pistoning into you with loud and sloppy thrusts. His green eyes are locked on your swollen and puffy hole sucking him in with a vice grip, watching his cock slide in and out, in and out, over and over again until you’re cumming hard, shaking and convulsing.

“That’s it,” he growls, the sound low and deep. It went straight into your stomach, sparks lighting up under your skin as your hips jerk, unsure whether you want to endure the building overstimulation or move away. “M’gonna cum so deep inside your pretty little pussy I’ll knock you up,” he murmured in your ear, dragging a canine down your neck to clamp his teeth down on the flesh. “Y’want that? To be my breeding bitch?”

You sobbed, unable to answer, but he didn’t need one. Not when your body spoke for you.

He fucked the air out of your lungs one, two, three more times, feeling his balls tighten until he finally came, spilling his cum so deep inside you, you were sure it’d stay there for weeks. You moaned, savoring the warmth that spread through your body with each spurt of his cum that coated your velvety insides, trying to catch your breath before you had to move.

Toji sighed in satisfaction, pulling out after a few moments. He watched your fucked-out hole clench around nothing as it leaked with his seed, spreading one of your asscheeks to get a better view before giving it a final pat.

You didn’t realize he cut the ropes holding your arms behind your back until you nearly fell face-first onto the floor, catching yourself with your numb hands.

“Ow… fuck,” you cursed at the sharp stinging sensation that ran up your arms, shaking them uselessly in an attempt to restore the blood flow faster.

“You were better than I thought you’d be,” he hummed, getting up to fix his clothes. He grabbed his handgun from off the ground, holding it against his shoulder as he stared you down. “But you have three days. Make ‘em count.”

You weren’t oblivious to know that he was giving you a three-day recovery period before he began hunting you again. Even then, you couldn’t stop the shiver of excitement from running through your spine at the prospect of seeing him again.

You grinned, breathless and shaky but confident nonetheless. It was unlikely he’d fuck you once he found you, but a man could dream. "I will."

cross-posted on ao3

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[adventuringblind]

Viva Las Vegas

Landoscar x Reader

Genre: Fluff? Crack? Idek...

Summary: Two boys can't get a hint, and the female in the middle is just waiting for them to make a move. Preferably with her ending up between them.

Warnings: spicy, kind of panic attack? Allusions to sex, alcohol consumption, mentions of Lando's crash, and him being on pain meds.

Notes: Reminder that my requests are open for the 1000 follower celebration! Also, a certain someone put this idea in my head so now you all have to suffer.

Masterlist

Being the baby of the paddock really hadn't been that bad. A year younger than Arthur and having to put off with Charles was never on her top list of things she wanted to do, but she managed. Followed him around races like a lost puppy.

She was a perfect angel. Kind of. Not really, but she put on a good face when in public. Charles' perfect baby sister.

Lando Norris got to see a whole other side of her. The side that the cameras and public don't see.

The side that takes risks and tests the limits. The one nobody else has managed to pull out of her. The one Lando seems to make being so incredibly easy.

Charles adores the two of them. Lando would never hurt her. He may be impulsive, but he's loyal to a fault.

A couple of years later Is when Oscar comes along. Lando's new teammate. It's awkward for exactly two months into their work together.

Lando didn't like what happened to Daniel. He was still upset about it when word got out that Oscar had signed. It didn't feel real at the end of the year.

Then something shifted. Maybe it was the shared frustration of such a horrible start to the season? She may never know. But one thing is certain and it's that they like each other.

Oscar likes Lando. Lando likes Oscar. They both like her, and she loves them right back.

Yet she could not, for the life of her, forgire out why neither of them is saying anything about it. One can really only handle so much sexual tension before they explode. The sweet moments between the three of them. The fact she has attempted to get the both riled up with nothing to show for it except what Lando does to her later and Oscar's stupid smug face just playing alone with sarcastic jokes.

They are going to be the death of her. The two of them are attached at the hip, and she's excitedly making popcorn thinking it's going to turn into a romantic comedy. It doesn't, and she would like whoever is directing the movie to hurry the story along.

Both her and Lando are getting under his skin, and it's evident in every interaction they have. She takes it upon herself to invite Oscar everywhere with them.

They are happy all together. If they would just stop being so oblivious it would be perfect.

Then Vegas happens. The place where memories are made and forgotten. Lost in the music, lights, and alcohol.

The car isn't the best here. Both boys are frustrated. Lando crashes, and Oscar manages, but it's written on his face that he's disappointed with himself.

She goes to Lando at the hospital. Then, when he's released and thoroughly medicated, they head back to the paddock.

He's hilarious. Lando and his already unfiltered mouth are just saying everything. Including every feeling he has ever had for both her and Oscar. It started fine and then escalated Shortley after to the point where Jon had to promise he wouldn't ever mention it.

Oscar runs through media duties with an unholy speed. He looks relieved when he finds the two waiting around by his door because Lando didn't want to go to his own.

"I'm sorry it's been a lame birthday weekend." Sighs the Aussie who has collapsed onto the sofa.

"Well- it doesn't have to be."

Should the two not on any kind of medication used their clear judgment? Probably, but who are they to deny Lando?

They did decide on keeping it chill and just to go out for an hour or two after Lando at least napped off some of the meds. Neither of the sober minds had any intention of mixing alcohol with whatever Lando was on.

The Brit looked so excited to be out with them. He openly expressed he didn't need anybody else because his two favorite people were already with him. Oscar replied with a smile. She's going to have to force them to kiss at this rate.

Somewhere between three drinks in and Lando sipping on something not strong came blurred confessions. Whatever Lando had told Oscar he was drinking definitely was stronger than he'd made it out to be.

Her boyfriend keeps throwing her mischievous looks and suggestive eyebrow raises. What kind of game is he playing at? She would love if he let her in on it.

But alas, Lando does not, and she is left to her drink and her mind as she watches the two refuse to do anything about the tension they are creating. It's getting far too much for her. She either needs Lando to make a move on Oscar or to come help her because her imagination is going to places.

Somebody does kiss her, but it's not Lando. She would be concerned if Oscar hadn't just moved closer to her.

Everything goes fuzzy after that.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning is met with ridiculous hangovers and a cramped position on the couch.

The couch? How on earth did she end up here? More importantly, why is Oscar using her like a blanket and Lando a starfish on the floor?

Her breath quickens. Something must have happened for them to end up here. She pulls herself up and almost passes out in the process. She would like to - no - needs to remember what happened. She finds her phone laying on the counter and opens it.

Her hand hits the counter and there it the sound of metal hitting granite. She shakily moves her hands into view.

Of all the stupid and impulsive things, she could've done, it had to be getting married in Vegas and being too drunk to remember it. Looks like George, Alex, and Lily were there, the three people who really should've stopped her.

But it's not that realization that makes her finally curl up on the ground, It's the name on the certificate.

Oscar Piastri.

She can hear both boys starting to stir and wake themselves up. The light hitting their faces drawing them back to the land of the living. Into what has become her nightmare.

She ducks behind the counter.

"What happened last night? My head is killing me and- why are you on the floor?"

"Well, we all started on the couch and then I needed water, couldn't find my spot again so I just stayed on the floor."

There is a pause. "What do you mean 'we all'?"

"The three of us? You know, it's bad not to sleep together on the night of your wedding."

There is a string of mumbled words from Oscar that she can't make out. "Seeing as I married your girlfriend, you seem way too happy about this."

"Mate, you were literally trying to fuck both of us last night and then went on this rant about-"

"Okay! I get it! No need to embarrass me more."

Lando is laughing hysterically. "I was wondering if you were ever going to do it. I was getting worried about your wife having a stroke if we didn't do something about this. She talks in her sleep you know."

She squeaks and then covers her mouth. She curls further into her hiding place, but it's no use. They boys find her and join her on the floor.

"You been awake long, love?" How can Lando be so gentle at a time like this? Like she hadn't just betrayed him! She stares in disbelief and then shakes her head no.

It looks like Lando is about to say something else when there is a knock on the door. He gets up and opens it to Charles and Max. The former of which is yelling in French.

"Looks like you guys also had a rough night." Lando is keeling over laughing which inevitably puts him back on the floor.

"What do you mean?" Max is standing there looking completely sober.

Lando is in tears at this point, and nobody understands what he's laughing at. "The matching rings, mate? Do you not remember getting hitched right after your sister?"

There is a set of identical screams followed by more frantic French.

"Speaking of that..." Max turns his attention to the little Leclerc and Oscar. "... You going to explain this one Lando? I remember this still."

Lando then blushes, and it looks like he considers running. "So listen - I may have talked you two into getting married." There is this innocent smile on his face that makes her jaw drop.

"This was you?! I'm panicking for nothing?!" She trails with French mumbling, and Charles joins in with her.

They look through pictures for a while and get water into their systems before Max and Charles go to leave.

"So, are you two going to get a divorce?" Oscar looks at Charles and Max who shrug.

"Maybe, but who knows? Maybe it'll come in handy some day."

"I knew you guys were fucking! Lando you own me now."

"How did you know?!"

"Little sisters know all, dear brother."

When it's just the three, a tense silence false between them. "So, what now?" She finally breaks. No longer able to handle the staring.

"We get a lawyer?"

"Or, hear me out, we keep it. We can always do that later!"

It's true, really. This a backward way of confessing, but it's not like they don't want to be together.

"Then Lando needs a ring also!" They laugh.

The Brit gets a hold of the certificate and finds a marker to write his name on it. "I fixed it."

Then he looks at the other two. Bright smiles on all of there faces.

"Shall we consummate the marage?"

#x reader #fanficion #formula one #f1 fic #formula 1 #racing #f1 fanfic #lando norris f1 #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris #landoscar #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x oscar piastri #ln4 imagine #ln4 #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x lando norris #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 #mclaren lando norris #mclaren formula 1

[ktgoodmorning]

The Wall: Pt. 2

Mapi Leon x teen!reader

Inspired by the song "The Wall" by GroupLove

“Yeah I’m scared but there’s really no reason to be, it goes round and round, promise me that we will never let life beat us down.”  “And if you wanna dance, just follow me let’s take a chance” “And if you wanna cry just hold your head up to the sky” “And if you wanna play, that’s fine with me I love this game”

Part 1

A/N: Wasn't expecting to have this done so soon, part 3 will be coming, I'm guessing it'll be the last part of this one

Masterlist

The way Mapi was looking at you, confronting you in the middle of the pitch, filled your body with rage. Every ounce of self control immediately left your body, “Mapi what are you doing!? WHY CAN’T YOU JUST LET ME BE!?” She took a step back, stunned by your reaction. Nobody on the team had seen you react like this, not even her. You normally kept it together really well so seeing you yell in the older woman’s face was concerning at the very least. 

She held her hands up as if surrendering, “Amiga, I’m sorry, I’m just trying to-” 

“NO! You’re not helping! Just leave me alone!” you were fully yelling before you tried to turn and walk away. Mapi roughly grabbed your shoulder and turned you back to face her, angering you even further. 

“I know you’re upset but you can’t-” 

“Don’t touch me! I’M FINE!” You put your hands on her shoulders and roughly shoved her away from you. Mapi froze in shock, unsure of what came over you. You weren’t sure either but took her silence as an opportunity to get away, jogging off to the locker room before she could catch up with you. You pulled it together slightly before you reached the locker room, making sure none of the other girls could see what just happened. If you just pretended none of that had happened, everything would be fine, right? You were fine. Everything was fine.

As soon as you sat down in front of your locker, your exhaustion seemed to catch up with you. You struggled some to control your breath, reaching for your water to help you calm down. A few of the girls had started arriving, but must have noticed that you weren’t in the mood to talk yet. They knew you typically did something extra before training started so they assumed you were just tired from that. Nobody realized that it was your thoughts that were causing your labored breathing, not the endless amount of exercise you had been doing all morning. 

What had you just done? You laid your hands on the only person who stood by you. The one person who would always take care of you. It was fine though. Mapi would understand. She had to. She wouldn’t kick you out of her house. She wouldn’t hate you. Right? It was all fine. You’d just ignore it all and hope she would too. 

When Mapi entered the locker room, she seemed to understand your plan. Your exterior was completely calm when she walked in. You were currently redoing your ponytail, getting ready for training, acting like nothing had happened. Her eyebrows shot up on her forehead, surprised by how easily you seemed to be moving on after you had just exploded at her. But you refused to look at the older woman, hoping she would join you in moving on. It apparently worked as she just shook her head and joined Ingrid, giving her a look that would communicate that she’d fill her in later. 

Throughout training, you appeared to be your normal self. You were playing well, working hard, all things you would normally be doing. This is what you needed- to be succeeding in the one thing you cared about. It didn’t matter if everyone else left you. It didn’t matter if you were lonely and abandoned and lost and confused and exhausted. If you could play well you were fine. Everything else disappeared and you were fine. 

The rest of the team took your typical attitude as a display that you were okay. You had clearly got past the news of Leila’s transfer and were ready to be your usual self. Mapi was the only one who knew this wasn’t the case. 

During one of your water breaks, you found Claudia bounding over to join you, “do you want me to pick you up tonight or are you getting a ride from Mapi?” 

You shook your head, “I’m not going. I’ve gotta watch some film from last week’s match.” You spoke as if it was the most normal thing in the world- abandoning your last night with one of your best friends to watch an old football game that you’d already seen three times before. 

“You can’t be serious.” you just shrugged her off, leaving to get some extra shots in before the break was over. Claudia ran over to a group of the rest of your friends to let them know what you had told her. 

Of course this led to Leila joining you, interrupting you from the extra target practice. “Chiquita, what are you doing? Why would you not come out tonight? It’s my last night here.” She tried her best to hide the hurt in her voice but couldn’t believe you wouldn’t make the most of the little time you had left. 

“Leila, it’s not about you. I just have other things I need to do.” 

She scoffed at you, clearly seeing right through you. “Since when do you need to watch film on a Friday night? Everyone else will be there, (y/n), everyone. You really won’t come at all?” You just shrugged at her. You didn’t want to get into this during training. It was a lot easier to be mad at her than to actually face how empty it made you feel. 

You really were planning on watching film. The next match was on Sunday and you needed to do everything you possibly could to be ready for it. Luckily before either of you said anything more, Jonatan blew his whistle, summoning you all to continue onto the next set of drills. 

Throughout the rest of the day, you could feel some looks of concern being directed at you but they were always shut down by the level of skill you were exhibiting. You were training at the very top of your game which impressed anyone who was doubting your well-being. 

When Jonatan ended practice, the rest of the team started to scatter. Some made their way to the locker room while others stood around on the pitch, chatting or stretching in small groups. You were planning on staying late, already having arranged for Alexia to stay with you to work on your penalty kicks. She had no idea you’d come so early or worked yourself so hard. You knew your captain never would have agreed to stay with you if she knew how far you were pushing yourself. 

She was talking with some others before they left for the day so you took the time to stretch out your clearly exhausted muscles. It honestly surprised you that you weren’t more sore already. After your run, plus the sprints, plus a full day of training, your body was starting to hit its limits. 

While you waited for Alexia, you didn’t even notice Mapi making her way towards you. She walked slowly, apprehensive about talking to you at the moment. It was clear from your outburst earlier that you weren’t doing well and she didn’t want you to push her away even further. She had decided that it was necessary. Maybe with the others around it would be better. Or maybe you got out all your frustration this morning and now you’d be willing to talk. 

The older woman decided on sitting down near you, joining you in stretching, hoping it’d come across as less confrontational. “Hola, amiga.” she greeted you with the same words she always did but this time it was much quieter, almost timid. 

You gave her a small, “hola,” in return, your voice just as quiet and scared as hers was. You didn’t look up at her when you spoke. You couldn’t. The more you said to her, the harder it would be to keep it all in. 

You noticed the heavy sigh she let out before speaking again, “Are you really not going out with everyone tonight?” 

“No,” you spoke louder. “I’ve already said, I have too many things to do before Sunday. I don’t have time.”

“But amiga yesterday you said you were going to and-”

“Well I forgot I had things to get done so I can’t anymore.” Your voice was harsher this time, tired of having to explain yourself to everyone. 

Mapi knew it was risky but decided she needed to push you a bit more, “I really think we should talk. Not here. But I’m worried about you.” She cared about you so deeply and just wanted you to let her in. The older woman wanted so badly to help you, to take away all your problems, but had no idea what was going on with you. You should be sad about Leila leaving but why would you not go out with her tonight then? 

“Mapi, I’ve already told you, I’m fine.” your voice was filled with venom, fed up with everyone. “There’s nothing to talk about. Now please just leave me alone, Ale is gonna drive me so I don’t need you waiting for me. Just go, I’m fine.” You gave her a sad attempt at a smile, trying (but failing) to convince her that you were as fine as you were pretending. 

All Mapi could do was shake her head at you before getting up, “let me know if you need anything. You don’t need to be so scared to open up, I’m always around.” Her voice was defeated as she spoke calmly. When you didn’t respond, she turned and made her way to the locker room. She was at a loss for what to do next. It was clear you needed help but you had also made it extremely clear you didn’t want her talking to you. 

Once she had left, Alexia made her way over to you. You sighed in relief, knowing she was done talking and you could go back to focusing on football. Anytime you got to work one on one with Alexia, you were excited. You admired her focus and knowledge of the game, hoping to match her work ethic yourself. Your time with her helped you go back to blocking everything out. It was just you and her on a football field and you felt at peace for the first time in the last 24 hours. 

After at least an hour of working with her, Alexia had decided you needed to be done for the night. “Take care of yourself, especially after having this on top of training, you’ll really need it.” You nodded at her. If only she knew you had actually done much more than that today. “You’re coming out with us all tonight though right? To celebrate Leila?” 

You shook your head, “no, I want to go through some tapes before our game on Sunday, do some recovery, that kind of stuff.”

Alexia’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, “for real? Even I’m going.” 

“I just think I’ll feel better going into Sunday if I can get this stuff done tonight,” You shrugged your shoulders, hoping it’d come off as no big deal. If anyone would understand this, surely it’d be Alexia. 

“Si but breaks are important too, nena. Don’t forget that.” She gave you a look of skepticism as you made your way into the locker room together. You didn’t need a break. Surely Alexia knew she didn’t get to where she was by taking breaks. She got herself here by working hard and that’s exactly what you intended to do. If you worked hard enough, you’d be a good enough player that all your other problems would disappear. 

~ 

After Alexia brought you home, you had made dinner and settled on the couch to watch film. Mapi and Ingrid already left to join the rest of the team in their night out. A night out wasn’t going to make you better, studying your game would make you better. Finding your mistakes and picking them apart would make you better. Once you had picked apart every minute of your most recent matches, you switched to studying your upcoming opponents. That way you could know their every move, their every weakness. 

Mapi and Ingrid got home relatively early compared to how late a night out with the team would typically go. While everyone wanted the night to let loose and celebrate Leila, they were still aware of the game coming up in the next two days and wrapped up early. Mapi entered the apartment first and was shocked to see you lying on the couch, sleeping hard. It wasn’t unusual for you to go to sleep early, but this was still earlier than normal for you, especially when you had tomorrow off. 

It was even weirder to see you asleep on the couch. As she got closer, she noticed your laptop on your lap and notebook still in your hand, full of notes of everything you needed to do to be better. You clearly had passed out while in the middle of studying film, too worn out to make it to your bed. Similar to last night, you had a look of stress on your face as you slept, eyebrows drawn together tightly. At least this time you didn’t have tears dried on your cheeks like you had the night before.

 Knowing you were a heavy sleeper, Mapi decided she could carry you to bed without waking you up. She set your laptop on the coffee table and went to do the same with your notebook before something you had written caught her eye. Your notes were so critical of yourself. You had picked apart the tiniest little things and had filled the page with them. Most of the things you wrote down weren’t even things you could control. Some of them weren’t even football related. She noticed things like “let the team down”, “got lucky”, and “not as good as I should be”. Hey eyes settled on one word, underlined and circled in the margins of the page: “failure”. Is this really how you thought about yourself? You literally had a goal and an assist in the last match. How could you possibly think so poorly of yourself? 

The older girl sighed and set it on the table with your laptop, adding it to her mental list of things that needed to be talked about with you. She gently scooped you into her arms and noticed how you immediately curled into her. It disheartened her how you put up such strong walls when you were awake but sunk into her so easily when you were asleep. You had buried your face into the side of her neck and gripped her shirt softly, subconsciously longing for the love she showed you. 

Mapi brought you to your room and gently placed you in bed, pulling your blankets up around you. She took a moment to stare down at you, trying to figure out how she was going to get you to open up to her. She knew the longer you went without help, the worse you would get. She only hoped that she could figure it out before it would be too late.

Part 3

Masterlist

Feedback and requests are always welcome! :)

#barca femeni #barcelona femeni #woso imagines #fcb femini #woso one shot #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #mapi leon imagine #mapi leon #mapi león #mapi leon x reader #maria leon #maria león #woso fanfics #wosoreading24/7 #wosoreadingmapi

[leclvrc]

steal some covers, share some skin | lh x reader

summary: mornings always find you pliant and ready

content: morning s*x, m/f s*xual acts

words: 2.2k

You're in bed, legs a little spread and still loose and pliant from yesterday.

There's little light in the room but Lewis sees you anyway. He loves you best like this too: relaxed and easy, with your pussy all pretty.

You spent last night under him and if the look in his eyes is anything to go by, you'll spend this morning much the same. But you welcome it, him so easily when he slips back into you. First just the tip at your entrance, where he's all warm. You almost offer to suck him off, get him there with your mouth. He loves cumming on your tits after all, but you don't say anything. Instead you allow yourself to relax further into the bed and then he slips in, slowly, letting you feel every inch and it's a little like coming home despite being four countries away.

He's heavy in you, but the good kind. The kind that promises stars and euphoria to explode behind your eyelids and then there's his chest at your back and his knee beneath yours and your toes curl. He's not even all the way in but it's enough already. That's how good he is.

"Baby," he says, whispers, lips moving against your cheek with the letters. You hum but there's not a single word on your tongue. His big hand intertwines with yours and it's like everything has slid into place. Fuck, nobody has ever come close to making you feel like that.

He rears back, let's you feel every inch buried in you and then thrusts back in, goes just as slow as he went. It's blissful, amazing. Toe curlingly good.

Lewis is and has always been the greatest at making you melt into a useless puddle with one move.

His thrusts are almost lazy, like he knows the slow glide could get you there if he really wanted you to. That it's enough for you to be buried beneath his weight, with his cock to the hilt in your pussy. The stretch just golden.

"You're so good at this," you find yourself saying after a moment. Eyes fluttering beneath the heavy weight pulling them shut. You want to look at him as you say it. Glance up at him out of your gorgeous eyelashes to see his dark cheeks grow a tad darker. See that cute gap between his teeth appear as he tries and fails not to let the compliment get to him. Memories of those things have to suffice for now though you decide.

The slow glide is maddening and good and perfect and enough and not enough at the same time but then he rears back, pulls away all the way until he slips out, dick warm and wet against your thigh and then he turns you around, on your side. Has you clench your legs together as he kneels behind you.

His hands are on your ribs and then your tits and then his dick is back at your entrance, just resting, just gliding between slick folds before driving back home and the next moan slips off and into a sigh.

Like this he seems even deeper, like the tight heat of your pussy is pulling him in deeper than before. You love it. Him. What he's doing to you.

Eyes fluttering back shut, a smile begins to grow on your lips as you squeeze your legs tighter together. He swears above you, the sound low and dirty and then there's one of his wide palms around your throat. Just resting there as he continues to fuck you in short bursts.

You fist the sheets in one of your hands when he suddenly stills. The sound of skin slapping against skin ceases and then you open your eyes, hope to see him grin at you in that way of his. That way that tells you that he's just teasing and will go right back to fucking you in a moment.

"Lewis," you say, voice a little whiny like it always gets when he's as deep in you as he can get. His free hand slips between your closed legs and then he's thumbing against your clit, doesn't acknowledge your look beyond a quick peck to the cheek.

You shudder beneath his touch and then lift one of your legs. Hope to entice him to touch you more, faster. Harder. Maybe he'll finish you off with his perfect fingers. Rub your clit so long you shiver away from his hands before he spreads your legs and fucks you to completion. Over and over.

Wouldn't be the first time, but he doesn't do any of that. Instead he lazily draws his thumb over your clit, smiles a little at the dampness spreading around. You're soaked and so turned on you know it won't take long at all to cum but he doesn't give it to you.

Fuck.

"Please... Lewis," you try again. Voice so breathy. He loves it when you sound like that. He loves you on his cock as well and even more so when you take your pleasure into your own hands and then suddenly it's easy to rock back on his cock with his hand still on your throat.

You look at him beneath lowered eyelashes and then move. Know that the wet slide around his cock and your mouth around his thumb is enough to drive him wild much like he's been driving you wild all night long yesterday. A little bit of payback never hurts.

When he slips over your g-spot you can't help but moan. Loud. Loud compared to anything else in that room anyway and then you do it again, drive your ass back into his crotch, just until he nudges that spot over and over again. You fall back on your side completely, only his fingers around your neck holding you up and then suddenly he's pressed close from shoulders to hips again and you're buried beneath his beautifully warm bulk.

Your hips arch and then there's power behind his thrusts, behind the way he places his knees to either side of your ass to really fuck you.

You move into the feeling, until it's second nature to move back as he thrusts in. Meet him in the middle. It's perfect like that. For your both. You wish you could see it. Him. The way his abandon flexes with every hard thrust and how his cock disappears in you over and over again. Fuck. The thought alone makes your toes curl and then his hand is on your throat again and his other hand beside your head and it's like you're just meant to get fucked. To lie there and take it until you're shaking apart beneath his bulk.

His cock keeps disappearing in you even once you start chanting his name lowly. Even once you start squeezing him as that deep coil of pleasure unwinds and stars begin to burst in your vision. You moan, loud, just one more time and then fall back into the sheets. Ass still in the air. Just like he loves it.

"You're so hot baby," he gasps into your ear as he follows you back into the sheets. "Squeezing, fuck, so so tight. Love this baby. Love you."

"Lewis," you sob. Eyes squeezing shut at a particulary deep thrust. You could probably come again by the time he cums.

"Made for this, huh," he asks, voice trailing off into a moan when you move back into his thrust again. "Made to be-- to be fucked. By me only, baby."

Your hands squeeze the mattress a little harder at that, the sentence and the sheer possessiveness in his tone enough for you to whine and whimper and then he draws away. Slips out of you entirely. He leaves you empty and aching but a second later, just after your eyes shoot open and your body turns cold with the lack of Lewis pressed into you, does he turn you back around.

Now on your back, you look back up at him.

He smiles.

He's so handsome. So gorgeous, especially up close like this.

"Wanna look at you when I come in you, sweetheart." he says, voice even. Like it's the most normal thing in the world to say. Heat climbs up your cheeks at the thought, your mind coming up with all sorts of dirty images but you don't reply beyond a shudder running down your back.

Your legs open eagerly to welcome him back and your folds are still shiny from when you came, but the first glide back in makes your eyes slip shut and then you're lost to the pleasure again. Lost to Lewis and his whims as he chases pleasure between your legs.

You wrap your quivering thighs around his hips and like this he's even closer. Just like he was when he first fucked you when you were on your side. It's breathtaking.

His hands are everywhere then. Your hips. Your stomach before he thumbs once again at your clit and then he leans in and draws you into a sloppy, lax kiss. You breathe into it but he doesn't mind. He never does when you're so fucked out. You sigh and then one of his hands trails up your body and to your tits and you arch into the touch. Into the feeling of his thumb on your nipple. On the easy way he seems to know just how to touch you to get you to tighten around his dick.

He looks like a God you can't help but think. Mind lost to hazy bliss but clear enough to take in the glistening skin around his crotch. Where you got him all wet and messy. He looks like a God and he feels like it too when he starts moving in earnest. All dark inked skin and loose braids tumbling into his face with every movement.

It's when he leans in to kiss you again that you know that he's close. He's been moving in a rhythm only he knows as he's chased his pleasure but nows he's drawing in close, close enough to cage you between his arms as your lips meet. The kiss is sloppy, just like the ones before. It's all bitten lips and moans barely getting muffled as you press your legs tighter against his back and then suddenly he's no longer rearing his hips back to pound into you, but simply pulling back to grind into your tight heat and it's everything.

It's so easy to slip one of your hands between your bodies. To find your soaked cunt stretched around his dick and then to rub your clit to the movement of his grinding. But it's just after he finally cums -- your name's a filthy prayer on his lips as he grinds in deep - - that you tumble over the edge once more yourself.

This orgasm is more intense than the first one. It rocks through you suddenly, all the way into your toes and you clench around him. Hard. Just until he moans and falls into you more, like he never wants to leave. And isn't that a thought? Keeping him close like this. Always. Pressed together until you're not sure where he begins and you end.

You come down slowly but the aftershocks still rock your body even once he starts pulling out, now completely spent in you. You sigh, the sudden loss of his weight startling after the way you fucked the morning away and then stretch. Don't even frown when you feel some of his cum dribbling out between your legs.

He stays knelt in front of you. Chest still heaving and smiles.

"Good morning, baby," he says, laughter quick to follow when you weakly throw a pillow at him.

Good morning indeed.

#f1 smut #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton smut #**mine

[thegreatestsandwich]

Xavier: I'm TRYING okay? fuck my feelings, it's fucked but one thing that I'll always be sure about is my love for you. I fucking love you and i don't fucking know how to act around you. Okay? I--" and then you kissed him to shut him up. AIGHRIGFHERIGHQERG

Kissin’ in the rain (Xavier Thorpe x f!reader)

Masterlist

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x f!reader

Word count: 1.3k

Summary: Nobody knew what you were and there was a breaking point where Xavier just exploded and demanded you to tell him what was happening

Warning: Angst and Fluffiness

A/N: We’re almost finish with all the requests!

Coments, Reblogs and Asks are happily received! I love to read your lovely coments :)

Everyone began noticing there’s something going on between Xavier and you, specially after your failed date on the fair. At first, there’re were murmurs around you, not so kind ones until Xavier force them to shut up, giving you a nod after almost hitting one of the mermaids that was taunting you.

He didn’t talked to you on classes and neither you tired to get closer to him. Yet, both of you began noticing the other more. Xavier’s eyes always drifted to you when you entered a room, when you sat quietly and lonely on the other side of the cafeteria, when you stayed as far as you could from the others when Principal Weems made the announcements.

You began noticing a few things on your own, how he often had smudges of paint or charcoal on his hands and sometimes on his face. How he often covered his mouth when he take a huge bite of something, how he always sat with the same people at lunch, how he tried his hardest to ignore Bianca’s attempt to have a conversation.

But still, neither of you acted out on your discoveries, until that one time after lunch.

Some people thought it would be funny to take away your gloves, so with the help Vinny’s telekinesis, they managed to take your gloves away and put them as higher as they could on a tree. You were at this point hyperventilating outside under the rain, trying to grabbed them before class started.

Everyone was watching you struggle from the windows, a few of them giggling at your attempts but the others just ignored the childish prank.

Xavier entered the classroom and put his backpack on his desk, noticing how there was a multitude of people watching the window with amusement. “What’s going on?” He asked Ajax, who was recoding something on this phone.

“Vinny, Jax and Penelope pranked (L/N), they managed to take her gloves from here! That’s having balls dude.” Ajax laughed, making a close up to your distressed face. Xavier stared at it for a second before leaving the classroom.

“Xavier?” Bianca intercepted him on the corridor, her hand grabbing his arm to stop him. “What are you doing? Class is going to start soon.” She tried to turn him around but he shook her off.

“I have something to do.” He drily told her, trying to pass her but she blocked his path. “Bianca, move, I don’t have the patience to do this.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and arched a brow. “And what could be more important?”

Before Xavier could answer, a happy Enid and a following Wednesday stood at their side. “Don’t you hate rain? Ugh, it always get’s my hair all frizzy.” Enid complained.

“I quite enjoy this day.” Wednesday stated, her hands carrying her bag on the front, her face as emotionless as always. “Class is about to start Bianca unless you finally accepted you will not accomplish anything if you stay there.”

“Rude.” Bianca told her, finally taking her attention from Xavier, but still not getting out of his way. “I’m here simply reminding Xavier to enter the classroom.” She smiled, “Isn’t that right?”

Xavier didn’t answer, looking at the door that would take him to outside. Wednesday noticed.

“I didn’t know you enjoy portraying the maternal role, quite painful to watch.” Wednesday nudge Enid with her elbow.

“Ouch Wednesday! That hurt!” Enid complained but Wednesday only glared at her, she sighed, linking her arm with Bianca. “C’mon, they want to talk about death or something creepy, I still don’t know how you enjoy those things Wednesday.” Enid dragged a complaining Bianca away.

“Thanks.” Xavier murmured, beginning to walk away, only to be stopped by Wednesday. “Don’t have time for this Wednesday.”

“If you are planning to be a creepy hero, at least take an umbrella.” She pushed one hard enough on his chest before walking away.

He stared at it for a moment before finally going outside. He opened the umbrella and walked towards you, who now was sitting under the three accepting the rain. “Hey.” He gently greeted you.

“Please,” You whispered completely broken. “Just go away, please.”

He watched how you hugged your knees closer to your body before he knelt in front, he quietly offered you the umbrella and you stared at it for a moment. “It won’t bite.” He whispered.

“I don’t want to touch you.” You whispered back. “Just leave Xavier, the damage is already done, they are completely destroyed.”

Xavier couldn’t help but sigh, offering once again the umbrella for you to take, you slowly took it, trying so hard to not touch him, once you had it in your hands, he quickly search in his pockets for something, once his fingers felt the plastic material he took it out, a tiny packet of gloves, he offered them.

“Bought them the other day for one of my paintings, they are new.” He told you gently, “Take them.”

“Xavier.” You began.

“Just take them (Y/N).” He placed them on your knees, “It’s not the best material but it’ll do the work.”

You quickly open the packet, letting go of the umbrella but Xavier managed to grab it, you put them on and you felt somehow safe. You stood up and offered a small thank you.

“That’s it?” He called you out. “Just a thank you and you leave?”

“What do you want me to say?” You turned around, distressed. “Just accept it!”

“Accept it.” He huffed a laugh, looking at you in disbelief. “Just accept it?”

“I don’t know what more do you want me to do Xavier.” You brushed away the wet hair from your face. “I can’t touch you or hug you, so what do you want?”

“I’m trying to be nice here (Y/N).” He grunted, taking a step closer to you. “I could just let you out here on your own.”

“Then you should have!” You tried to turn around but he didn’t let you, grabbing the back of your jacket, turning you around. “What do you want from me? You did a good thing, now you are the hero, congratulations.”

He closed his eyes. “I’m trying, okey?” He paused, trying so hard to not lose his cool. “I’m trying! Fuck you, you hear me? Fuck you and fuck my feelings” You stared at him. “It’s fucked up, y’know? Last month I hated you, I hated you so much that I wanted you out of here because your whole presence bothered me!”

“What…?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me but I can’t get you out of my head you hear me?” He grabbed your shoulders and you tensed, “I don’t fucking know how to act around you, okey? I–“

“You what?” You whispered.

“I don’t know what to do…”

“You’ve done enough.” You gently took a step inside of the umbrella, carefully to not touch him. “You’ve done more than enough, you’ve been kinder than anyone in this school.”

“But that’s not enough.” He whispered. “I don’t want to just be kind, I-I want to hold your hand even if I need to put on gloves, I want to hug you and I don’t care if I have to layer up a thousand of clothes to do so, I want to paint you, eat the weird lunches they serve in the cafeteria, I want to do those things with you.”

He quickly searched his pocket once again and took out another packet of gloves, with so much effort (because they got wet) he managed to put them on, offering you his hand. You stared at it for a few seconds. “C’mon.” He whispered.

You took it and he intertwined your fingers together.

#xavier thorpe oneshot #xavier thorpe blurb #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe x y/n #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe fanfic #xavier thorpe fluff #xavier thorpe angst #wednesday adams imagine #wednesday adams fic #wednesday netflix #xavier thorpe wednesday #xavier thorpe

[desceros]

so. we are all familiar with villain rise leo x reader by now. but do u have any headcanons or just ideas about villain rise donnie x reader ? 🤔

so. this, uh. this got out of hand quickly

villain!donnie au where splinter didn't scoop up all of the turtles when he fled, and donnie got left behind in the exploding lab. god i love pretty boys with trauma

as the lab explodes around him, little baby donnie barely finds a safe place to hide so he survives. he gets crushed under some rubble, and he and his shell becomes scratched and bruised. after everything settles down, he crawls out and manages to escape to the streets of the hidden city. not properly tended, his wounds heal improperly and scar, leaving him always just a little bit in pain.

despite the odds, donnie survives. he's resourceful and brilliant, and with his naturally aggressive nature, he manages. after a painful lesson where he's nearly killed by a small local gang, he learns that hiding his soft shell is important, so he begins picking through the trash and putting things together. he's good at it, he realizes quickly. able to see things that connect together and make something bigger than their parts. he begins to scrap together all kinds of contraptions; a cover for his shell, a tool to help him break into people's houses for their blankets when it gets cold, something that plays soft music and keeps him company when he feels a little hollow in the back alleyway like he's supposed to have someone with him and doesn't.

as he grows up, he learns. he has a cold exterior that never betrays his inner thoughts, because those are just as vulnerable as his soft shell. he has no friends, no family, nobody but himself. he's so, so quick to attack, cruel and unforgiving, defensive and hardened from his youth. if he hurts you first, you can't hurt him, after all.

he starts making money selling his tech to sketchy people, until finally he manages to land an actual apartment. he goes one on the sketchier side of town so he can twist the landlord's arm (read: blackmail) into letting him do whatever he wants. running water, heating, a bed; these are all things he quickly becomes picky about, now that he has them. he craves comfort, so he remodels the entire place from the inside until it's unrecognizable. then, wanting more, making enough money because he's so fucking good at hacking and tech, he gets the apartment next to his, too. puts a door between them. refurbishes the other one into a full-blown lab where he can push, create, experiment.

he's got himself convinced that he prefers it this way, that the hum of his tech around him is all he needs. he finishes something and looks at it, almost like he's waiting for... for something. (...for someone to tell him he's amazing.) but he brushes it off, puts it to the side, then moves onto the next thing. this is all he needs. this is all he needs.

one day, he wants more. there's one more apartment on his side of the floor, so he goes to the landlord. unfortunately, there's someone inside, and they're, uh. not to be messed with. no matter how much donnie twists and grills. infuriated, he goes home to take matters into his own hands—only to learn that the person in the apartment next to his is you.

you are the underpaid, overworked, exhausted, single, addicted to this black swill that you call coffee but you're pretty sure is some kind of yokai magic juice personal assistant to one baron draxum. the motherfucker's been trying to get you to move into his lab for a few years now, but if you have to spend one more minute in his presence, you'll scream. also, you warned him that if he even thinks about mutating you, you'll quit, and since you're the best goddamned assistant he's ever had, quadrupling his tracking numbers since you started, you're also one hundred percent human. ('when you are the last human, then i shall mutate you, as i will no longer have need of your services then.' 'try it. i'll gnaw your fucking arm off and password lock the coffee machine.' '...bah.')

you meet donnie when a package is delivered, mistakenly, to your apartment with his name on it. (it's a passive aggressive gesture where he had it specifically sent to your apartment, so you could come talk to him and he would, uh, kindly inform you that you'll be moving.) unfortunately for him, you're used to dealing with mad scientist egomaniacs whose respect is nigh impossible to earn, so when he tries to threaten you, you laugh in his face, drop the box off at his feet, and go to work.

.......donnie stares at the spot where you were for a good, like, five minutes after you leave.

over the next few months, over and over this little green fucker next door makes your life miserable. he does weird experiments at weird hours—until he learns that actually, you work weird hours, so then he does them at normal hours which keeps you from getting any sleep. he blares loud, obnoxious music. he leaves snide messages on the corkboard by the stairs, even though you both know that you're the only two people who live here so there's only one person who could be doing it. he fucking mutates your favorite pothos plant where it was sitting, innocent, beautiful, on your balcony, so now it sings to you exclusively in nickelback lyrics when you go to water it. (...your one consulation there is that, at least, you aren't the only one who suffers.)

donnie, meanwhile, is perplexed. enraged. how the fuck are you so resilient?! he has done everything short of actually shooting you in the face, which he would have done were it not for your tie to baron fucking draxum, and yet you're still fucking here, preventing the expansion of his lab. it's infuriating. he can't stand the sight of you. just looking at your face and the way you smile and laugh at his machinations makes his chest feel tight. his fingers curl into fists when he looks at you bending over in those stupid pencil skirts of yours to grab your mail when he leaves the door open and it all falls to the floor. he wants to wrap his fingers around your pretty little neck and pin you to the nearest surface and squeeze until—until—

...oh. oh.

the day you get a beautiful bouquet of flesh-eating mutant yokai lilies on your front doorstep, no note attached because really there's only one person who has the resources to do this, the bottom of your stomach drops as you realize, perhaps too late, that you have attracted the gaze of something truly, truly terrible.

#ask tag #i. i could continue this for like. fifty thousand words. oh god send help #villain donnie au #just. gonna go ahead and make this a tag bc i smell the blood in the water

[juneberrie]

i don't want you like a best friend - cato hadley

₊˚ʚ 🌱 ₊˚✧ ﾟ. cato hadley x fem!reader

author's note — ꩜ oooooh my first cato fic!! i hope you guys like it ♡

word count — ☆ 1.2k

warnings — ✦ooc clove probably, cato calling reader "shortstack"

the world stopped when his name was called. my lungs seem to shrink in my chest and my surroundings start to spin. he can't go, he can't go into the games. he can't leave me.

cato steps up to the stage, weaving through the crowd of people. he stands there as some capitol person rifled through the other glass bowl, searching for some poor girls name. he locks eyes with me and shakes his head ever so slightly.

"clove kentwell," the announcer says. a young girl starts to walk forward but before she even made it three feet i scream.

"i volunteer! i volunteer!" i push forward, risking a glance at the girl, clove, who glares at me before realizing why i volunteered. she sighs and gestures for me to proceed.

on wobbly feet, i step up to the stage next to cato. he doesn't even listen to the announcer's speech about the honor we'll bring to our district and what not. he turns to me with a look that says i'm going to kill you and thank you at the same time.

we're ushered into the building and corralled into separate rooms. cato looks back at me with an unreadable expression before the peacekeepers shove us both behind doors.

two minutes pass, but nobody comes in to say goodbye to me. i sigh and turn to the window before hearing the door open. through the reflection in the window, i see clove standing there, flanked by peacekeepers.

i turn to face her and we size each other up before she says something. "so, you and cato?"

immediately i feel my face heat up. "no- i mean, we're friends, is all. nothin' else."

she laughs and takes a step towards me. "sure. anyways, i wanted to wish you luck."

"you're not... mad? that i volunteered for you?" her name clicks and suddenly i register who she is. clove kentwell, one of the academy's top fighters. she's on track to volunteer and become a victor before she's even 17, and she would've become one of the youngest victors if i hadn't volunteered.

"i mean, i'm kind of pissed, but i get more training. better odds of winning next year," she states. one of the peacekeepers informs us that her time is up, and as she walks out of the room, she calls over her shoulder, "may the odds be ever in your favor, lovergirl."

after a while, the peacekeepers escort me and cato into the train station, where his family and clove stand at the front of the crowd. as the train pulls out of the station, cato's little sister screams his name, waving her arms wildly at her brother, and he waves back with a giddy smile. clove catches my eye and winks, and i roll my eyes and turn away from the window.

enobaria stands behind us, along with the announcer, whos name i learn is florentino. she quickly explains what will happen when we get to the capitol; the parade, the training, the interviews. she tells us to start thinking of ideas for angles we could use in the interviews, then instructs us to get something to eat and rest before we arrive.

she and florentino disappear behind a door, leaving me and cato alone.

i make a beeline to the mini-buffet laid out on the table and grab some sort of roll, which when i bite into it, is actually a cheese stick wrapped in fried bread theres a little label beside the plate that says "tequeños". these are the best things i've ever tasted in my life. i moan as i bite into another one, letting the flavor explode in my mouth.

i hear cato laugh behind me and reach to grab one. "are these really that good?" i nod fervently, grabbing a glass of water.

we eat in silence for a few minutes before i get up, announcing that we might as well try to sleep. cato agrees, but he doesn't move.

"hey, uh." i turn back, my hand on the door handle.

"yeah, cato?" something in his face changes when i say his name, but its gone before i can register what it is.

"don't let the bedbugs bite, shortstack," he says with a smirk. he follows me to the hallway where enobaria told us our rooms would be. our rooms are right across from each other.

i step into the room and shut the door behind me. then, i jump face first onto the big soft bed. it feels like heaven on earth, with its silk sheets and fluffy pillows. i kick my shoes off and rummage around in a drawer, finding a pair of silk pajamas to change into before i burrow under the covers. just as im drifting off to sleep, someone knocks at my door.

i groan and get up to open it.

cato's standing there, shirtless and wearing a pair of grey sweatpants. "hi shortstack."

"cato," i grumble. "its like, 2 am. what do you want?"

he looks around before stepping into my room. "just wanted to talk."

"and it couldn't wait until morning?" he shakes his head and sits down on my bed. i join him and flop onto my back. i almost fall asleep with the silence stretching between us until he clears his throat.

"the rooms are nice, huh?" he says. filler talk. "way better than the dorms at the academy." the dorms we have in the academy are standard issue, with a twin size bed, a window, a desk, a chair, and a wardrobe. nothing like the opulent gilded queen size bed and dresser with an en-suite bathroom the train has.

"yeah," i yawn. "they are pretty great." i close my eyes. i feel cato put an arm around me.

"sorry for waking you up," he offers, letting me curl up into his side. i throw an arm over his chest and make a sound of assent. "y'know, you didn't have to volunteer."

"i wanted to," i defend. "its not like i was going to let you go into the arena alone, cato."

"i would've preferred that," cato snaps. he sits up and rubs a hand over his face. "i don't want you to.."

"to what, cato? to leave my best friend?" i retort, opening my eyes and shooting up. the words pain me to say; i know thats all i am to him. a best friend. "i thought you would've been glad that i volunteered. the games are all we've talked about since we were ten. and what better alliance than best friends?"

"exactly! i don't want you like a best friend," he yells. he stands up and starts pacing. "you're much too special and kind and pretty and strong to be my 'best friend,' n/n. i don't want to see you get hurt. how would i be able to live with myself if you got hurt in the games, huh? how could i call myself a victor and be happy if the one person who actually made me happy wasn't with me?"

we stare at each other for a few moments. his heavy breathing and my short sniffles are the only sounds in the room. slowly, i stand up and take tentative steps towards him.

we stand face to face, chests almost touching but feeling miles apart. my hand brushes against his for the barest moment and he grabs it, locking our fingers together.

"you mean it?" i whisper, looking up at him.

"i mean every word when it comes to you," he breathes.

#cato hadley #cato hadley x reader #thg #thg x reader #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #[🧸] dear diary

[ctheathy]

Zails the Zone Cop NSFW Headcanons

Zails x Reader

NSFW Headcanons

Short Concept

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

Both reader+character are of legal age or aged-up for obvious reasons in this post!

These are smut headcanons, read at own risk. !Female!dom!Reader+sub!Zails • Eating his darling out • Drooling/salivating • He gets a bit rabid with it

Ah, wowie. Zails getting himself a girlfriend? I thought it would never happen... but let me tell you that Zails is truly one of the most hopeless and desperate variant of Tails that exists. He would be so needy for constant affection and reassurance, but he'd also be quicker to grow a lot more ...horny than the rest of the bunch. Even if he constantly has his grabby fingers all over you, a singular touch from you can easily trigger his sensitive nerves, leaving him an aroused mess.

And if you gave him permission to taste your cervical fluids? That is 111% the worst idea I’ve ever heard in my life and you absolutely should do it because it would absolutely shatter Zails the best way possible. He would instantly fall and completely melt into a drooling mess and beg you for a chance. He’s not used to those sweet, sweet fluids and he is absolutely not stopping until he has to be pried off of your body with a crowbar. He would be in pure ecstasy and nobody would be able to separate him from you anymore.

It would be the worst thing Zails has ever felt, and he wouldn’t be able to think straight anymore due to how much he would enjoy it. He’d be making pathetic groaning noises and his leg would shake uncontrollably. You would be his whole world at that moment, he wouldn’t even hear it if there was a volcano exploding outside his house. There would be no way for him to recover from that at all.

Tell him to not dare disappoint you while does the deed.

Cause that, my friends, would be the end of everything for Zails because that would literally be the final blow. His legs would go numb from the ecstasy as he softly moans into your entrance, tongue working overtime just to enjoy the sweet and divine taste. His mind would become completely flooded with hormones that would leave him absolutely dizzy. His whole world has been flipped upside down and he would NEVER recover from this.

He’d be so weak-minded that he wouldn’t be able to think of anything else but making you feel satisfied as his eyes would roll back and moan louder into you, not wanting it to stop. He would be completely addicted to the taste, and the sound, and the sight of the whole thing. His tongue deep inside of you getting every drop of nectar he can. I can see his tongue would become more desperate with its movements to try and taste even more of you. Becoming more vocal as it reaches deeper into your body, his tongue being in this hot, moist and tight claustrophobic space, with juices soaking his already wet tongue.

And by the time he reaches that level of desperation, he’d be nothing short of rabid. His tongue would move at rapid pace as he just tries to get more of every single drop, his brain just melting to the point he feels like a drooling animal. And the more he gets the more desperate he becomes, he would feel your hands on his back and he would get more desperate. He’d start licking anywhere you touched him, just praying for more. His body is nothing more than a shell anymore.

Which is the perfect comparison honestly, he’d be acting like he was on death row and this was his last meal before dying. He would be lapping up everything like a dog that wasn’t fed for weeks. And if you decided to actually allow yourself to climax, oh lord, that would be the biggest shot of pure ecstasy he could ever experience. It would absolutely break him to the bone. He would feel like he didn’t deserve to live for being able to experience that kind of blissful experience.

You'd have a grip over his tongue since the start of the interaction, and it would get progressively tighter until it would become unbearable. His breathing would get heavier and he’d start to moan so loudly, but you could definitely make him feel the lowest he could possibly be. He’d be trying to reach a deeper level while you can enjoy every moment of him being helpless in your grasp, sitting on his face once he’s ready to burst.

Zails would absolutely need a full body suit just to keep all the drool in his mouth because he’s actually just a mess of an entity at this point. He’s nothing short of a starving animal in heat who would have no care about being overstimulated. And if you were to let out a sound that even remotely resembles a moan, he’d be a goner. He’d go insane on you and you may as well just be giggling the whole time over him melting and making a mess. He is completely broken at this point. All it takes is a single sound.

And that, I think, would cause his mind to completely snap. He would be completely overrun by his own emotions and be in complete euphoria, yet so filled with desire too. He would reach a point where even days after the experience, he will literally be begging for you to let him drink from your fountain of life again. You would not only see the desperation in his eyes, but you could feel it in his entire being. And his body would be shaking all over, as if in a fever, unable to contain all of that need inside ever again.

A need he didn't even know he had.

#zails the fox #zails the zone cop x reader #zails #zails x reader #zails the zone cop #sonic smut #sonic x reader #sonic the hedgehog x reader #tails x reader #tails smut #sonic comics x reader #sonic comics #sonic the hedgehog

[choke-me-joey]

Can I get #27 JQ?

Yes yes yesssssss thank you for this dom Joe is my faaaave 😫😫😫

27. I'm going to fucking ruin you.

Joseph Quinn x reader

Content warning: 18+ content minors DNI, rpf (don't like don't read), I have no idea how fashion shows work, unprotected rough piv sex, Joe has slight dom vibes in this???, daddy kink, squirting, creampie, the usual tbh

Hoe-vember masterlist

Amongst the crowds at the Dior show of Paris fashion week was not the place you'd ever have expected to have your fiancé lean in, seemingly with just a sweet, innocent kiss to your cheek, and growl into your ear "Just you wait until we're alone, I'm going to fucking ruin you."

Your cheeks immediately flush and you pray that nobody notices. You keep up your smile for the cameras. This was your first public appearance as a couple, ever, despite having been together for just over a year now, and he decides to do that?!

Fucker.

You squeeze his hand to let him know you heard him, and shoot him a small smirk. His manager directs you through the insane crowds, your heart fluttering as Joe was trying to help her get safely though the crowd as she was pregnant. God he was such a fucking sweetheart. How can someone be so sweet and so utterly filthy at the same time?! It just wasn't fair.

Once you were safely inside, Joe had a couple of interviews so you just kind of floated around awkwardly until they were over. Then there were countless press photographs, and to your suprise Joe was keen to have you by his side in every single one.

"Mr Quinn, over here! Mr Quinn, who is your lovely lady friend?" The reporters were shouting, and the flashes firing off repeatedly were starting to give you a little headache.

"This is my girlfriend, Y/N," Joe shot a grin at the cameras and immediately the shouting grew louder, the reporters yelling left, right and centre.

"Y/N! Y/N! Over here!"

"Who are you wearing, Y/N?"

"Congratulations on your relationship, Y/N!"

You stuttered over your replies, not used to being in the spotlight like this. Joe stepped aside, grinning, letting the photographers snap away at you.

"Miss Y/N, look here please, that's it!"

"Beautiful!"

"Y/N, you look stunning!"

"Isn't she breathtaking?" Joe grins as he joins you again for some more couples photos, sliding an arm around your waist and squeezing your side. You turn your head and kiss him, and the place practically explodes.

After a whirlwind of a day, you let out a sigh of relief when you and Joe are back in your peaceful, albeit ridiculously fancy, hotel room. You sit on the chaise lounge and reach down to undo your heels, which have pretty much made your feet go numb now.

"Don't you dare." Joe growls from across the room. "Leave the heels on."

"Joe, babe, my feet are killing me-"

"Leave. The. Shoes. On." He moves towards you, jacket, shoes and shirt abandoned leaving him in just the crisp black trousers and black socks. The dominance in his voice causes you to shiver and clench. "Come here." You do as you're told, standing up and walking over to him. He pulls you into a kiss, a real kiss this time not the sweet pecks you'd been exchanging all day. A kiss that lets you taste him, all mint and smoke. You can't help the groan that escapes you as you feel his cock already tenting, and you reach between you to squeeze, making him hiss. "Fuck, do you know how much I wanted to sack this whole thing off today and just come back here and do nothing but fuck you?"

"I gathered from your little comment earlier that you were a bit horny," you giggled, continuing to slowly palm him through his pants as he trailed kisses down your neck.

"A bit? Babe, you have me permanently horny but this dress..." He holds you at arms length to look over you. "Shit, I've wanted to be balls deep in you since you put it on this morning. You look fucking insane."

"You have such a way with words, Joseph." You shoot him a coy smile. He smirks back at you.

"Dunno about words, but can I have my way with you? I meant what I said earlier, I'm not gonna be nice, love. Wanna have you screaming."

"Please" you whimper, squeaking in surprise as he whips you around, practically whipping the zip of your dress down and pushing it off you. He curses at the sight of you in your heels and underwear. Once your dress is out of the way, he leads you over to the massive table in the middle of the lounge area, pecking a soft kiss to your shoulder blade before roughly pushing you down chest first onto the table. You hiss at the cold wood against your skin but stay there, your ass in the air and surely a damp spot on your panties.

"Fuck, look at you." Joe sighs from behind you, and you hear his belt undo and the trousers fall to the floor. He shoves his boxers down just below his bum and comes closer behind you. You feel him peel off your underwear and he chuckles at the string of slick that clings on to the delicate lace. He rids you of those, flinging them somewhere in the room. He brings his hand to your face. "Spit."

You do so, and you feel another wave of arousal flood through you as you look over your shoulder to witness Joe lubing up his cock with your spit. It was so dirty and you loved it.

Joe makes eye contact with you, raising an eyebrow in silent communication to you. You nod, and he grabs your head and pushes your face down into the table at the same time as he pushes his cock into you. You scream into the table, the stretch and fullness of him almost too much.

"Fuck, Joe!"

"That's not what you call me when my cock's in you, is it baby?" He grunts, pulling all the way out and slamming back into you again, the rough drag of his perfect cock through your walls and over your gspot had your eyes filling with tears, it was so good.

"Daddy." You gasp, clutching the table as Joe starts a rough and beautiful pace, satisfied with your answer. "Fuck, daddy, s'fucking good."

"Yeah, babe? Shit, you feel so fucking good, so tight and wet for me, been thinking about this all fucking day, the way you looked in that dress was driving me mental." Joe grunts, his thighs slapping against the backs of yours. He sneaks a hand down to circle your clit, making your pussy involuntarily clench around him. "Oh fuck, babe-" he groans, a warning tone to his voice. "-gonna make me cum if you do that."

"Fuck, Daddy, please!" You sob, the coil within you winding tighter and tighter the harder Joe fucked you. "Harder, wanna cum, wanna cum so bad, please, please, please-"

Joe smirked as you babbled underneath him, revelling in the feel of your pussy sucking him in and clamping around him. He lightly slaps your clit, knocking the wind out of you as you cum, suddenly and violently with your legs almost giving way beneath you. The sound that leaves your mouth is heavenly, Joe commits it to his brain forever, before flipping you over, placing your back on the table and your legs over his shoulders as he continues to fuck you, chasing his own release.

Your eyes roll back; the feeling of him so deep and so deliciously rough paired with his fingers rubbing over your clit quickly was enough to send you over the edge once more, a small stream of liquid gushing from you, coating his lower stomach and pelvis. Joe swears loudly, cumming on the spot, his own orgasm taking him by surprise. You whimper at the feeling of him releasing spurts of cum into you; it was your favourite feeling in the entire world.

"Shit...shit...fuck, you-" Joe struggles to catch his breath and form a sentence. "You squirted. You fucking squirted."

"I'm sorry," you groan, cheeks flushing as you bury your face in your hands. "I didn't think I could, I've never done it before-"

"Really?!" Joe grins down at you, unable to hide how proud he was of himself for making you do it for the first time. "Oh, baby, we're going to have so much fun..."

#joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #kats hoevember event #joseph quinn x y/n

[kira-broflovski]

Elven King || Kyle Broflovski x Reader

NOTE: i played stick of truth and wow i really want to write some fics based around that game now

summary: you finally returned home after being away from south park for so long and ran into your old crush

Trekking through the sea of green, you finally found it. The very spot that changed your life forever.

Memories of your childhood came flooding back to you as you stared out across the pond, it's breath-taking beauty never changing in the eight years you've been gone.

As you looked around the area more, you noticed things that were never taken down: the custom direction signs you made for the sake of immersion, or the little dens made out of large sticks that you and your friends would sit in for shelter during the summer heat. How has nobody destroyed them yet?

You decided to sit on the man-made bench, which was located towards the edge of the pond, that has been there for as long as you can remember.

Perfectly timed, one of your favourite songs from childhood started playing on your phone. The familiarity and nostalgia was getting to you as you thought about the people you cared about the most during that time.

You had left without a word. No goodbye, no explanation. Nothing.

On top of that, your phone was taken away from you so you couldn't even text or call anyone.

After everything that happened, your parents had decided to move away suddenly and never gave you a chance to see your friends again. They don't tell you anything so you don't know what made them move back to your hometown.

You couldn't help but wonder: do your old friends still live here? Do they even remember you? Or have they moved on with their lives?

You continued to sit there and drown in the memories attached to this quaint, moutain town.

What are your old friends up to now?

----

"You don't listen to me, you never fucking do!" The red-haired boy exploded towards his parents before storming out the front door.

He made his way to his usual spot. The spot where his life changed forever.

Kyle comes here everyday and waits for hours, sometimes his friends join him but he prefers to be alone. It's routine for him.

Everyone knows exactly why he comes here. People even join him in hopes of maybe getting an answer to the question: what happened to Y/N?

Nobody knows, but everyone remembers you.

Kenny kept that daffodil alive for years as it was the first time anyone had given him a flower, even if it was for a roleplaying game. Eric kept the weapons you made for him, as did most of the boys, he just claimed he never got around to getting rid of them. Stan kept his cape that you fixed for him after he got it ripped during a duel between him and Tolkien.

Then there was Kyle. He kept every single thing you made for him, and he even had an entire box kept safe under his bed filled to the brim of all your gifts.

The items ranged from flower crowns for various occasions and accessories that made him truly look like the elven king he chose to play, to printed out photos of you and him from all the good times you shared together.

Snapping back to reality, he realised he finally made it to his destination.

He knew the route to where all the best memories were made like the back of his hand. The amount of times he has sat and waited in case you showed up, like you were a mythical creature. The Dragonborn.

Sunlight seeping through the leaves was always so pretty, to both you and Kyle. It also served as an indication of being close to your shared favourite spot.

Following the desire path that was made as a result of everyone involved in your childhood game, he was getting closer to the area.

It took a second for him to realise he was following the sound of humming. That's wholesome.

Wait.

His head snapped down from admiring the luscious trees.

Could it be?

He turned the corner. There you were, but... was it really you? He decided to hide behind a tree closer to you.

Meanwhile, you sat there blissfully unaware of your old friend's presence. You were thinking about him, and how happy he made you. You'd be lying if you said you didn't like him when you were younger.

You wondered how things would have been if you stayed. Would you ever get the chance to be with him? Is he still the hot-headed boy that had a soft spot for you? How does he feel about the entire situation. Did he feel the same at the time?

The song coming to an end, you decided to just turn the music off entirely and enjoy the peace of nature.

That's when you heard rustling and the sound of a twig breaking behind you, followed by someone muttering. "Shit."

You turned around and saw none other than...

"Kyle Broflovski?" Your eyes widened in shock as they met his inquisitive eyes.

"Y/N L/N?" A warm grin crept it's way onto his face. He offered his hand, and you eagerly took it. "Oh my— look at you!"

Your face was growing hotter by the minute as he looked you up and down, not in a weird way, just in disbelief that you're here.

"You're really here!" He was seconds away from bursting into tears as your mere presence let the memories flow back to him all at once.

"Do you need a hug?" You asked bashfully, exactly how you used to when you were kids. Your hugs always made him feel better whenever he was feeling some sort of negative emotion.

"C'mere," he mumbled and pulled you into his arms.

The two of you spent hours catching up and reminiscing on your childhood. After a while, you asked about everyone else and that's when he explained everyone still lives there. It was only you who ever moved away.

"Do you want to go see everyone?"

#kyle broflovski #kyle broflovski x reader #south park #south park fanfiction #south park x y/n #fluff #south park stick of truth #stick of truth

[armpirate]

The Only One || Snippet

Pairing: Mafia!JK x reader

Fanfic Coming Soon

Ever since he saw you in that club, swaying your hips with grace, and fixing your filthy eyes on him whenever you turned in his direction while your legs were wrapped around the metallic pole, he knew he had to fuck you. He needed to get a taste of you, he craved your body as if it were the most essential thing in his life.

But when he fucked you later that night…

He suspected you’d be addictive, but didn’t think it’d hit him so fucking hard to the point he was even doubting of returning back to Korea in a few hours. 

Your body was made for him. He was convinced of it when he first thrusted into you and your pussy took him so easily, as if it had been waiting an eternity for his cock, as if it had been molded just for him. And him only. 

The mere thought of him leaving for Korea, and thinking of you sharing that delightful body of yours with someone else was driving him crazy. How would anyone else dare touching your body the way he did, making your legs weak from pleasure? How would you dare making someone else cum the same way you made him explode that night?

You couldn’t. Just one night, and he knew you were his. And he’d do anything, whatever it took him, to keep your body from anyone else, but him. 

As for you, you were surprised by the electricity that ran through your body whenever his fingertips caressed your skin, and the way your body reacted every single time he filled you. You enjoyed every second when you reached your high, cumming for the first time with a client. 

For the first time since you started working on this, you actually had your fun instead of just making the other cum so you could get your money and leave to clean yourself. But that’s all it was.

You got a good fuck and fresh cash. 

And that’s exactly why when he showed up in the same room again, sitting on the edge of the bed, you smiled wide.

Your pussy throbbed with excitement, just for it all to disappear and be replaced with confusion as a pile of sheets were handed to you.

“If you sign it, your body will belong to me only” he whispered, his legs crossing.

Oh shit.

And when you saw the amount of money he was willing to pay only to fuck you (Or, better said, for you not to fuck with anyone else when he was away), you didn’t hesitate to accept the offer.

It was the easiest job ever since you joined the club. Being paid twenty grand, just for you to wait for him. Like that silver cutlery you rarely use, because it’s so unique and expensive you only use it for important occasions. 

You were going to be his new most exclusive Ferrari, parked inside his garage ever since he bought it, knowing he’d rarely drive it, but being proud that he had such a unique product that nobody else had. Only he had that privilege.

When your eyes shined, and you picked the pen he offered you, he knew what your mind was working on. Jung Kook read through you so easily, he didn’t need to know how to see the future to be sure of what your next move would be. 

Too bad you didn’t read the small print of the contract.

#jjkvibe #fanfic #ff #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkookxreader #jk #bts #wattpad #kookie #smut #jungkook smut #mafia!jk #snippet

[duc-kie]

Hey love ! Saw your requests were opened. My George Weasley obsessing self is craving for some smut 😩

Just George fingering reader in class hehe (Potions or transfiguration, up to you). Thank you

Have an wonderful day angel 💖

omg stopp you’re so sweet I love you🫶🏻🫶🏻 a genius idea too! I’m such a sucker for things like this.

george weasley x afab!reader smut

———————————————————————

you were in potions class and you were sitting next to your boyfriend, george, as usual. you were sat in the very last row.

George’s hand slowly found it’s way down to your thigh and started slowly massaging it. you didn’t think anything of it and just continued with your work until his hand trailed up your skirt. “try to stay quiet for me princess” he whispered in your ear before pushing your panties aside and slowly pushing a finger in. you let out a sharp gasp but you quickly covered your mouth with your hand hoping no one noticed. thankfully nobody did.

you quickly turned towards george and gave him a warning yet confused look. he smirked at you and started pumping his finger. it was getting harder and harder to pretend like nothing’s happening.

he added another finger causing you to moan. you quickly covered it up with a cough and prayed that no one actually figured out what george was doing under the table. your face was red and it was getting close to impossible to hold your moans back. you bit your finger hoping it’ll help.

your orgasm rushed through you and you were on the edge of exploding all over George’s fingers. your hand quickly moved down to grip at his strong arm for support. just a second later you put your head down and covered it with your other arm as you reached your high.

“good girl” he said while pulling his fingers out. he slowly brought them up to his mouth and licked them clean while intensely looking into your eyes. your face was completely red and you were out of breath. you fixed your panties and tried to continue with your work. you just couldn’t wait for this class to be over so you could get George’s full attention.

#harry potter #smut #hp smut #george weasley #george weasley smut #weasley twins #hp fanfic #hp fic

[luvfae]

If it’s possible I’d like to do a request for the “My Favorite Henderson” verse…with the romance 💙 prompts 12, 37, and 44… and maybe one from the comedy prompts…if they make sense together. Again you’re awesome!! I love this series.

i’m still allowing requests for this series, so request away guys xx

MY FAVOURITE

HENDERSON

PART SIX

fandom: stranger things

parings: eddie x f henderson reader

warnings: swearing

12: “can I kiss you?”

37: “you still haven’t asked me on a date.”

44: “your lips are so soft I could kiss them all day.”

masterlist

It was no lie that Eddie Munson liked you. He made it clear as day every time he saw you, but that flirtatious goofy side of him was reserved for only the comfort of your house. At school the pair of you didn’t talk, in fact Eddie didn’t go anywhere near you.

You assumed it was because of the people you hung out with. You were a cheerleader, you were popular and you spent your day surrounded by people that he hated. In fact, he once hated you, that was until he got to know you and got comfortable around you.

But you were the same, you thought he was a freak, that’s what all your friends called him. You were conditioned into thinking that way. But now whenever someone spoke badly of him you shut them down and sure they started to question you, but you never told them the truth. You could never tell them of the crush that you had on Eddie.

So when you found a note stuffed inside your locker, signed by Eddie, telling you to meet him at his van once school was over you were a little shocked. Pleasantly surprised if you will and now here you were seated in the passenger seat behind the school where nobody would find you.

“Why did you really ask me here?” You asked, looking over at him.

“So we could get some alone time away from Dustin, so we wouldn’t be interrupted,” Eddie replied. “So we can finally do what we’re both longing to do.”

You scoffed, giving him a dirty look. “You still haven’t asked me on a date,” you replied, hands crossing over your chest.

Eddie smiled. “Is this not a date?” He asked.

“Sitting in your van behind the school? No Eddie, this is not a date,” you answered. “This is just you trying to fuck me.”

Eddie laughed, “you’re feisty. I like it.” You rolled your eyes, looking away from him. “If it’s a date you want then it’s a date you’ll get,” Eddie replied, turning on the engine and driving off. You quickly buckled up your seatbelt, watching the outside world as he drove.

He pulled up at the park and the two of you got out of his van, going for a walk around the green. You both talked, getting to know each other even more. He was asking you hard questions, as if he was trying to see deep into the darkest parts of your soul and you were answering him honestly.

The both of you sat at nearby bench, watching the ducks float around the pond. You spoke quickly, hands moving around as you did. It was a quirk of yours and Eddie thought it was adorable how your hands couldn’t sit still as long as you were talking.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, cutting you off mid sentence. Your eyes snapped onto his. “It’s just us now, no Dustin here to stop us. Don’t you think we should finally take advantage of this opportunity?”

You smiled slightly. “Yes, you can kiss me,” you replied.

Eddie grinned at your words, hands making their way to your cheeks as he pulled your face towards his. Finally, his lips connected with yours. Butterflies exploded in your stomach at the feeling. Chapped and rough skin against the soft of your lips. His tongue dragged across your bottom lip and instinctively you opened your mouth, allowing him explore every crevice.

You shuffled closer to him, hands gripping onto the fabric of his Hellfire shirt, arching your back into him as one of his hands moved to the back of your head, holding your lips against his. It was like now that it had finally happened, now that you had finally kissed, neither of you wanted to let go. You wanted to bask in this moment and that you did.

He pulled away and you frowned, already missing the feeling. “Your lips are so soft I could kiss them all day,” Eddie flirted. You smiled at him, hands wrapping around his neck as you pecked at him once more.

“I’ve waited forever for that to happen,” you admitted, your eyes boring into his.

“Me too,” he replied before pushing his lips against yours once more.

The pair of you were making out rather aggressively, as if your life depended on it, as if at any given moment everything could be ruined.

And because things could never be that simple, everything was ruined.

“Y/N, Eddie?”

You groaned against Eddie’s lips, pulling away to see you brother stood with his friends, Mike and Lucas, shock clear on all three of their faces at the sight they were seeing. Eddie Munson, leader of Hellfire Club, making out with Y/N Henderson, the cheerleader.

“What are you doing here?!” Eddie practically yelled.

“We came here to hang out, what are you guys doing here?!” Dustin replied, angrily, looking between the two of you.

You looked down at your lap. “I brought Y/N here so we could have some peace from you!” Eddie yelled in return.

“That’s my sister, dude,” Dustin shook his head. “What is wrong with you?”

You stood up, brushing down your cheerleading dress. “I’m gunna go,” you said.

“Let me drive you home,” Eddie replied, grabbing your hand. You looked down at him with a smile, the both of you staring at each other with longing eyes, neither of you saying a word for a few seconds, until Dustin cleared his throat. Reminding the both of you that he was right there.

You rolled your eyes, glancing over at your brother. “I think I should probably walk,” you said. Eddie sighed, letting go of you and you bid him a goodbye. You glared at Dustin before stalking off.

Eddie stood up also. “You, Henderson, ruin everything,” Eddie said before walking away.

Dustin scoffed, shaking his head. “Can you guys believe this?” Dustin asked his friends. “They are always doing stuff like this, going behind my back.”

“Would it be that bad if they got together?” Mike asked. “I mean Eddie would be your brother in law.”

“Yes, because every time I look at him that thought will always be lingering in the back of my mind,” Dustin replied.

“What thought?” Lucas asked.

“That he’s doing my sister!”

© luvfae 2022

#stranger things #netflix #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #dustin henderson #my favourite henderson