Siúil a Rún

Siúil, siúil, siúil a rún Siúil go sochair agus siúil go ciúin Siúil go doras agus éalaigh liom Is go dté tú mo mhúirnín slán

Go, go, go my love Go steadily and go softly Go to the door and away we’ll flee And then safe may my darling be

(siúil is a strong word for “go” kind of like “Walk!” or “Come!” and  a rún is an endearment.) 

ৎ⸝⸝⠀COCKWARMING ! —

#pairing : lucifer, alastor, vox, valentino, x gn reader. #cw : 18+ content, mdni. unprotected sex. edging. office sex. public sex. sub/power sub reader. no mentions of specific anatomy. vox is in an online meeting for work. touch starved lucifer. val blowing his smoke on you for fun. non proofread because it's six in the fuckin morning and I have not slept a wink. #summary : in which they keep themselves buried deep inside of you while being busied by other stuff. #note : save me, I've been writing nothing but hazbin smut lately. i should really start working on other shows.. alastor's a bit shorter than the others, can't really think of a solid idea for him and I wanted to get this out as soon as possible

ʚ LUCIFER .

lucifer whines when you force him to focus on his unfinished work once again. he has been going back and forth from attempting to thrust into you, but you always found a way to press him down in his place firmly. he had some unfinished work that he left sitting in his office for almost a week now, and it irritated you. that's when you offered to cockwarm him while he worked, get him to finally get his hands on those unfinished works.

being absolutely touch starved, lucifer agreed without hesitation unaware of how miserable and impatient this will make him. his hand remain on his working desk, occasionally scribbling some words and a signature on the paper filled with printed words. he does his best to resist the urge to finally thrust into you, worried that you'd leave him unsatisfied if he doesn't do as he's told.

but there's a limit to how much he can contain himself, especially when he has you sitting on his lap with his cock stuffing you to the brim, when you'd tease him so often by clenching around him or moving your hips ever so slightly. lucifer whines every time, the hand that's placed on your hip squeezing on your flesh desperately.

"can i please.. just finish this up later?" his voice muffled from nuzzling his face into your shoulder, eyes closed shut to focus on the warmth engulfing his throbbing member. you let out a small chuckle, baring your teeth into his neck to draw out those pretty moans of his; his cock leaks pathetically inside of you.

"no can do, luci. you're not going to get whatever you want until you finish up." you pull away and tilt your head slightly, pressing a soft kiss onto his jaw while giving a quick glance at the papers sprawled across his desk. he's only halfway done with them. "you're doing pretty well, no? you're halfway done."

lucifer groans, annoyed as he picks up the pen from the desk again while reading through the papers. this time, you decide to tease him a little more instead of staying still. you connect your lips with his exposed neck, sucking on the sensitive skin as your hips slowly grind against his. you hear his breath hitch, his knuckles turning white from how hard he's gripping you.

your name spills out from his lips breathlessly, following with a whimper that you love so much. you carry on with your actions, dark marks gradually bloom all over his skin like breathtaking flowers. lucifer shifts to lay his forehead on your shoulder, shuddering from pleasure; you tug on his soft hair, firm enough to lift his head up from your shoulder.

"stay focused, luci. remember what's waiting for you to finish your work."

ʚ ALASTOR .

"oh, what a twist!" alastor exclaims with his eyes glued to the book he's reading, chuckling like you're not clenching down on his cock out of desperation. your eyes are teary as you turn to peek at the page he's on, frustration brewing in your chest. upon noticing your reaction, alastor laughs while moving his hand to cup your face, leaning in with a grin. "don't you agree, my dear?"

you groan, parting your lips further enough to drop his thumb into your mouth, biting down on it. alastor mutters a small "fiesty" before buckling up his hips, watching your eyes widen from the sudden pleasure that shoots up your veins. his arm tightens around your waist to stop you from squirming around excessively.

"put.. the fuckin' book down, a-alastor.." your nails dig into his shoulder through the fabric of his shirt, the back of your other hand hovering over your mouth with a frown on your face. alastor smiles in response, holding the book between the both of you now that there's a gap.

"why, it has only gotten interesting! patience is key, darling."

"it has been almost a whole fucking hour, alast-" your words get cut off by yet another harsh thrust of his hips, an uncontrollable moan slipping off your tongue. a low, barely audible grunt could be heard coming from alastor because of how you're squeezing around him like your life depends on it.

slowly, he places the book down, pushing two digits into your mouth as his sharp nails graze past your gums. your tongue swirls around them, gaze fixated on his that seems to be mocking your desperation. you grind your hips, wanting to feel more of that sensitive spot in you being stimulated by his tip brushing against it. alastor grunts every time you tighten around him, the feeling making his skin jump and his eyes close shut from the pleasure he receives.

you reach for the book to toss it aside, not allowing him any chance to get it back and return to what he was previously putting you through. he laughs at the action before getting cut off by yet another groan, a frown slowly finds its way to spread across his face despite the grin that remains on his lips.

"the book shall wait after all."

ʚ VOX .

the sound of vox's workers and colleagues echoes through his workplace, the source of it coming from the laptop that sits in front of him. he's holding an urgent meeting with them to discuss some things about work, yet you're here obediently sitting on him, cockwarming him. your arms hug his neck tightly, hands grabbing tightly onto his shirt while listening to him speak to the people in call.

you bite down every moan that builds in your throat, not allowing any sound to be heard by anyone but your partner. times when vox isn't discussing important matters, he leans into your ear to whisper praises, thrusting into you, and stops so suddenly when you're close to release.

he grins as you whine at the sudden loss of friction, skin flushed while feeling him draw lazy circles on your hips with his thumbs. he starts speaking again just when you're about to voice your frustration, drawing out a grumble from you. you stay there unattended, glancing at the part where the two of you connect; you're craving release, and you're done waiting.

with a steady pace, you move your own hips while holding onto his shoulders for support. vox's head snaps toward your direction, teeth gritting as he bites back the groans that threaten to leave his lips. he tries to hold you down, but his body betrays him and allows you to carry on with your movements. his head tilts back to lean against the headrest of his chair, the words that his workers speak gradually shifting to a blur in his mind.

"fuck, w-wait," his breath grows heavy, barely managing to keep his eyes open as you fuck yourself on his cock. you're supposed to be cockwarming him, not riding him. he has allowed you to the point of no return, how is he going to carry on with the meeting now? you grab him and connect your lips with his, drinking in his groans like how he does to your moans.

ignoring the calls of his name from the meeting, he pulls you closer by the waist as you grind yourself on him. it wasn't until he started getting annoyed by the meeting that he broke away from the kiss, strings of saliva still connecting your lips while his hand reached out to shut the laptop down. the room falls to a sudden silence, the only sounds that remain are your heavy breathing.

"you're gonna fuck up my company if this carries on," vox snickers before crashing his lips with yours again, hands holding onto your hips to thrust into you without anything holding him back this time.

ʚ VALENTINO .

you still can't process the fact that you're in valentino's studio with his cock buried deep inside of you while people walked around to work on set. valentino takes puffs from the cigarette he holds between his fingers, often ordering and even yelling at people as they rush to obey his commands.

nobody pays any mind to the both of you; in fact, they see it as something normal. after all, they're working for a porn producer, what is there not to be normal? you keep your face stuffed in the fluff of his coat, hands gripping tightly onto his outfit while still trying to adjust to how good he stretches you apart. everyone has just started working, and the set is still being prepared for a new film.

"you're tighter than usual my love, are you that excited to be around everyone?" he teases with a mocking tone, puffing out a wisp of pink smoke onto your flushed face. you lightly shake your head with a whine, the smoke that you inhale causing your vision to spin immediately. humming, valentino lifts your body up with the help of his lower pair of arms before roughly slamming you back down onto his cock. "I doubt that. you've always loved being fucking in public, no? look at you,"

you gasp, body tensing as a moan escapes your throat. you immediately bite down on your lower lip, eyes screwing shut while simultaneously having your body trembling under his hold. you don't want to draw too much attention to yourself, yet the idea alone excites you in an odd way that you never knew it would. noting your reaction, valentino continues repeating the action before stopping promptly, feeding himself with your choked back moans.

"keep looking pretty like that while i work, i'll have a reward waiting for you." you mewl at his words, giving him a weak nod while tugging onto his shirt. he takes another long drag from his cigarette before letting his gaze fall onto the prepared set displayed in front of him, eyes scanning for the stars of the show in the room.

he would moan softly into your ear whenever you clenched around him, teasing you with his mere voice and carrying on with his work. you don't complain, though, considering how you'll be fucked into a moaning mess once he's done with work.

© silas ( @silasours ). all rights reserved. every work posted on this account belongs to me, and only me. please refrain from reposting, plagiarizing, translating, or reproducing my work in any form possible.

no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her.

simon really meant it, every bit of it, he’d come back to you somehow. he would find his way back to you. wether it was walking through the front door quietly not to wake you up in the middle of the night or cold in a coffin. he’d rather have you hold his dead body than not to have you touch his skin ever again.

that’s what simon was thinking about as his ear ringed so loud he couldn’t focus on his surroundings. he looked up at the sky, so blue it almost didn’t feel right. why so blue when so much blood was being shed?

he occasionally would feel the ground he was laying on tremble, maybe a hand grenade, maybe a body falling next to his. the smell of gunpowder filled his covered nostrils and he could feel his lungs collapsing on themselves from the thickness of the air he was breathing. his eyes weren’t doing good either, filled with dust and sand from the dry earth.

it took him a few more seconds to focus his eyes on something, something that possibly wasn’t moving, his head spinning each time he tried to sit up. something was weighting on his legs, holding him down. he struggled to raise his torso and groaned at the sight of a large body blocking him. he let himself fall back down.

he was ready to go, a sharp pain to his side telling him he wouldn’t last long alone. he’d been through worse, way worse, the scar provided by the meat hook was proof of that, but something was telling him this was as bad. he was ready to go.

the only thing he could think about in his last moments was you. he thought he could see glimpses of you, maybe your hair in the corner of his eyes or he’d hear your laugh as another fire shooting started. his eyes searched for you frantically. he wanted to tell you to leave immediately, scream it at the top of his lungs, but his voice was caught in his throat and you weren’t really there. his mind just playing cruel tricks on him.

your name was repeated like a mantra in his head, repeating it so many times it almost lost a meaning. almost. a prayer, a chant. he sure needed to pray, for you.

he had been shelving the thought that tormented him for months. he wanted to go and confess his sins, he almost felt the need, his palms itching with haste anytime he thought about it. years had passed since the last time he had set foot in a church, so many that he had almost forgotten the reason for the visit. the ghosts of the past never abandon you, especially if they are people you love, especially if they are family, the innocent. its always the innocent who pay the highest price.

‘i wonder what she’s doing now, who’s gonna knock on her door and tell her im gone.’ he thought. ‘hopefully price. he’s the one with tact and the most considerate. he’ll help her when i’m gone, keep an eye on her.’

the sweet smell of your hair replaced for a moment the one of blood and gunpowder, your laughter still echoing in his ears. he pictured your sweet face and big innocent eyes looking up at him.

“promise me something?”

“mhm?” he hummed, surprised you were still up. his hand hadn’t stopped caressing your hair since you laid down on his chest, your hand resting on his collarbone as your ear listened to his calm heartbeat. “yeah, anything.”

“promise me you’ll always come back.” you whispered in the dark room. “promise me, simon.”

he nodded, taken aback by your request. you weren’t the fondest of his job, he knew it, he hated to concern you like he did.

“yes.”

“promise.” you urged. “please.”

he bent his head down and kissed the top of yours, his arm sliding down your back and drawing you closer by your waist. “i will, love. i’ll always come back to you.”

you sighed, the knot of thoughts in your worried head began to untie. “mh.”

“better now?” he softly asked. his voice was hoarse from his constant shouting orders at the obstreperous recruits. you gave a short nod. “i mean it.”

he groaned as he managed to get the body off of himself, struggling to get on his knees.

fucks sake, he couldn’t let you live with him gone like this. it was selfish of him to leave you in such an abrupt way, really. he tried to push away the image of you opening the door to find price with a carton box filled with simons stuff from the barracks with the balaclava and skull mask on top and your knees hitting the floor before he could even say anything.

his legs didn’t feel like they could hold his weight up, he immediately fell to his knees as he heard another rapid fire too near him for his liking. his gun was long gone, he had to manage to survive alone, again.

“crawlin’ it is.” he breathed as he started to drag his tired body with the strength of his arms alone. you had always praised his strength: he could lift you with one arm alone, you loved to be held and hold on to his arm anywhere and at anytime. that was the main reason he always pushed for more while training, and the motivation your sweet compliments always gave him now were gonna save his life. he made a mental note to kiss and hold you a little longer and tighter if he ever made it home alive.

he could see the building his team was supposed to meet up in case things got bad. it looked so far away that it was alarmingly close. maybe it was just his messed up vision, a mirage, but he could swear he saw you from a window looking at him, urgently motioning him to come.

he brought the thick balaclava above his nose so he could breathe better and as enemy gunfire continued to flow, he kept his head low as he moved dead bodies from his way.

he could hear your voice calling for him and he wanted to call you for you back, but the noises of the battlefield were hurrying him to get to the safe zone first.

he stumbled by the door as he brought himself up, one hand stabilizing him as he held on to the doorframe as the other went to press on his wound.

“lt!” johnnys voice called before he rushed to help him. “ye cheeky bastard, i told them not to leave yet, to wait for ye.”

“gaz saw you get shot.” price swung simon’s arm over his shoulder in order to help him to the nearest table, where he laid down.

“he saw that right.” simon bit the inside of his cheek as price inspected his wound, pressing on it. “is he a‘ight?”

“he’s fine, hit his head but had his helmet on, he’s getting checked out by the medics.” price informed him as simon winced at the sharp pain. “there’s at least two bullets in here, didn’t pass through, stuck.”

“just take ‘em the fuck out.” simon groaned. “how’s it lookin’?”

“you’ll live.” price patted his shoulder in comfort before he went to call a medic.

“we really thought we’d lost ye there, lt.” johnny’s face was glowing with sweat and blood, the black war paint smudged messily all around his face and his mohawk dusted.

“helicopter’s leaving in thirty, boys!” price’s baritone voice called from the other room.

simon scoffed, sighing and closing his eyes, finally letting himself relax as your figure started to fade from the corner of the room where it’d been standing, silently looking at him. “won’t lose me, can’t wait to go home, johnny.”

second time around.

ln x fem!reader

in which he’s quite desperate to have a second kid.

staying in my active era! there is honestly no excuse for this one, i just simply couldn’t help myself. it’s porn, yes, there is plot, but it’s just. porn.

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! where do i even begin? smut, more smut, breeding kink (kinda the whole point), choking, overstimulation, general sex acts, public sex, car sex, shower sex, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of the kid they already have, lando being a little shit, sex somewhere unhinged in the mtc, a brief moment of angst, dom!lando, rough sex? yeah.

3.9k words

take: 1

the season is coming to an end.

somewhere between italy and singapore lando decides he wants another kid.

it’s a warm day in the middle of september when he proposes the idea to you. you’re watching your daughter toddle around the garden, soaking up the last remnants of sunlight before the darkness of autumn encapsulates the warm beams until march.

she giggles, pushing her toys around in the grass. you let her play, lost in her own little world of wonder. lando turns to you, scanning your side profile, watching you watch the little girl. he’s awestruck, enamoured totally by the family he’s created, by the woman he loves. he doesn’t think, he just opens his mouth and let’s loose his big idea.

“want another one?” he cooes, sliding closer across the bench, until he’s nosing at your cheek. kisses are pressed to your puffy face. it’s still early.

at first you think he’s offering you another coffee, so you hold out your almost empty mug to him. you’d been nursing the drink, letting it go cold in the naturally cooler air. he laughs at you, and that’s when you clock what he’s actually asking.

you turn to him, facing each other now. lando looks excited. you wonder if you can find a way to mirror his expression.

“lando…” you start. his face drops at your tone, letting him down easy. “it’s not that i don’t want to, it’s just-“

“i’ll be home more. i’ve worked it all out. if we get to work now, baby will be here around the summer break.”

you mull over his words.

your first baby was a shock to you both, and you didn’t fancy doing that again. you loved lando with every fibre of your being, just as you did your daughter, but being away from him so much in the lead up to her arrival shot every one of your nerves to pieces.

but another baby would be on the agenda eventually - you both desperately wanted to add to your beautiful family - and you supposed that if he’d done the math…

“by get to work now, you mean…?” you cock an eyebrow at him. he lights up like the christmas tree you’d be putting up in a few months.

“she’s going down for her nap soon.” lando smirks, voice edged with that excitement once again.

-

his head is between your legs mere moments after he shuts your bedroom door.

you’d been waiting for him, stripped bare in anticipation. your baby girl would be down for a good few hours, more than enough time for him to draw out everything you had to offer and fill you back up.

his tongue runs over your flesh; he’s messy with it. you’re choking out whimpers as he licks and laps and tugs with his teeth. your pussy clenches around nothing and he notices, sliding his fingers all over where you ache. they’re quickly wet enough to slide inside of you, and he grinds them deep, luring traces of an orgasm into the pit of your belly. it’s familiar, the way he winds you up, and you want him like this every minute of the day.

“getting you ready, honey. gonna get you so fucking ready.” lando is slurring words into your cunt, letting them get lost to your sodden folds. you hear every word perfectly. they make you shake and shake until you’re undone.

when he looks up at you, his mouth is glistening. his fingers are, too. he hates wasting a drop of you, so he laps up the mess you’ve made while he shuffles up the bed. when he’s finally hovering over you, he’s desperate, but you’re worse. you could cry from the urge.

something carnal is taking place; he’s staring into your soul, finishing up the remnants of your taste, and you’re begging with your eyes, hands slinking all over your own body. you must be dripping by now. your body is restless and you raise your hips, inviting him close, deep.

when he thrusts into you, he’s pinning you down into your shared mattress. you’re completely at his mercy and he fucking loves it. you love it more. you go slack underneath him, and he starts a slow grind. he’s not thrusting, not yet, he’s just rolling into you, deeper, deeper, deeper. you feel the first tears threatening to fall. he feels so good, it’s unbearable.

he nudges at your most sensitive spot, over and over and over. you whine carnally and he swallows it, licking into your mouth. his curls tickle your forehead, you’re pressed so close together. he sees the pools in your eyes and then he looses it completely.

hand on your neck for leverage, he starts thrusting, harder and harder, faster than you can ever recall. he knows you can take it, knows how bad you want it, and that thought alone spurs him on. you have the same goals, the same shared instincts. you feel nothing but pure fucking bliss everywhere.

“you want me to fill you up? you want my baby, honey? want me buried nice and deep?” you hear him grunt, but he sounds so far away.

you are lost to the void when you come. you can’t even try and resist, not when you can hear how wet you are, not when you can hear the quiet whimpers he tries to fight at the way your pussy convulses around him. you cannot see anything but the stars in his eyes.

you go limp and he spills, fucking it even further into you. his eyes are trained on where you’re still joined, and where he’s still fucking you. you’d be screaming if not for the hand wrapped around your throat. the most delicious piece of jewellery you own.

lando needs to know he’s gone as deep as he can, that you’ve come as hard as he can make you. he feels unhinged when his fingers find your clit, switching between short spasms of his finger on the nub, and grinding down on it with his palm. you’re both overstimulated, soaked with sweat and other things. you’re gripping his cock so fucking tight that he can’t stop the rush of moans, your name mumbled like a prayer between expletives.

but still, he needs to know it’s deep enough.

an hour later, you can finally move, and you sink deep into the bath.

your head is on his chest, he washes you gently. you wonder if it’ll be a boy or a girl.

-

date night

almost a month passes. no sign of baby number two.

it’s fine, you tell yourself. you tell lando, too. all the more reason to keep practicing.

every opportunity he gets to bury himself to the hilt inside of you is a win in both of your books. he grabs every single one of those opportunities with both hands.

you’re dressed up nice for dinner, little black dress hugging you well. you watch the scenery flick past you. lando’s in the drivers seat, making small talk, his left hand heavy on your bare thigh. you’ve just dropped your daughter off with her grandparents, your mother hugging lando tight. he’d been gone a while.

fingers skim higher up your thigh. you want to let him carry on but this car is new, untainted by his adventurous personality and your willingness to comply. your legs snap shut and you watch him smirk out the corner of your eye.

“later.” you whisper.

his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.

“i know. don’t you worry, honey.” he doesn’t sound convincing, no, he sounds like a man with a plan and you dread to think of what he has in store.

the restaurant is tiny. a hole in the wall. it’s intimate, exclusive, slightly extortionate, but lando likes to treat you. you order, and he behaves. you sip wine, and he behaves. you drag your heel up his leg, and still, he behaves. you know something is brewing behind those stormy eyes.

he launches his attack during dessert.

vanilla ice cream hits your tongue when he strikes, leaning back in his chair. his thick neck captures your attention, the dim light accentuating him just right.

“would your prefer we take this to the car or the bathroom? it’s pretty spacious back there, you know.”

lando speaks so casually, and slightly too loudly. your cheeks are aflame.

“lando!” you hiss in warning. you’re sputtering over his boldness, catching some ice cream with your tongue. he watches the way it moves over your lips intently.

“actually, as tempting as the bathroom is, we still need to break in the new car.” lando sounds like he’s talking about the weather, or a shopping list, not the location of your next sexcapade. you swear you see the old lady at the next table over wink at you. “your choice, honey.”

you’re staring daggers at him. he leans in closer, elbows resting on the table and a shit eating grin contorting his pretty face.

“i’ve been gone too long, i need to remember what that pussy feels like.” his voice has dropped an octave but it’s still too loud. you inadvertently grind against the chair. the candle on the table flickers from the force of the shaky breath your expel.

“if you shut up now, you can have me anywhere you want me.” you mumble, bringing your napkin to your lips. the ice cream is melting and you have more important things on your mind.

“i’ll have you anyway, honey. because no matter what happens, we’re gonna go back to the car and you’re gonna crawl into my lap, aren’t you? you’re not gonna be able to help it.” he keeps going and you want the ground to swallow you up. maybe you want to crawl over the table and jump on his lap right here. you fight every natural instinct.

“lando.” you try to scold him again but it comes out breathier, a feeble attempt at shutting him up. it’s hard to be convincing when you want nothing more than for him to bend you over in the middle of this restaurant.

“and after i’ve had you shaking on my lap, i’m gonna fill you up, yeah? you’ve been waiting for weeks, poor thing.”

you usher over the waiter, and ask for the bill.

-

he’s got you home in one piece and all the way up to the shower.

you’re still delirious from the car. he’s still dripping out of you.

he pushes you against the shower screen, your cheek resting on the fogged up plastic. the combination of yours and his first orgasm is enough to slick him up and he slides right back inside of you, as if he’d never left.

your head is spinning, car lights and nail prints in leather seats flashing through your mind.

he’d been right in the restaurant. you’d crawled straight into his lap and he’d been waiting, seat pushed back, cock slapping up against his tanned belly. he’d swiped his fingers through your folds, determining that you were wet enough already, and then you’d sunk straight down on him.

at first he’d just watched you lose control, bouncing and grinding and whining on his lap. you were growing tired when he stepped in, pushing you back against the steering wheel, the angle change making your eyes roll back. you came twice with his fingers on your clit and his other hand holding you down so he could grind up into you. he’d released deep into you, all you could do was shudder, collapsing into his chest.

now, he’s taking you again, the hot water cascading over you both. you’re almost limp, caught between the cold screen and his hot, restless body. this it was three weeks apart does to him, and the urge to claim every part of you is at the forefront of his mind.

you’re writhing. there’s no room to move; he’s pressed so tight against you, breathy moans sounding straight into your ear and you want him impossibly closer. you always missed him so much it hurt, but that pain had increased tenfold lately.

you try to roll your hips back into him, needing him deeper, somehow. you’re so wet and tight around him, and your attempt at moving on him has you clamping down on him.

lando whimpers when he lets go, marking you as his.

he washes your hair and you fall asleep together naked.

-

the fear

lando is due back from qatar.

any minute now, he’ll be walking through the door.

he’s taken a podium, so you are expecting somewhat high spirits, despite the slight issue that had been the sprint race.

a podium is a podium, you’d tried to tell him on the phone late on saturday night. you knew that a podium was never just a podium.

you’re cleaning the kitchen up, your sweet daughter tucked up tight in her bed upstairs. a random playlist is sounding from the speakers and you flit around in just his hoodie. it hits mid thigh and it’s keeping you shielded from the biting october air.

you hear keys in the lock somewhere in the distance. you grin stupidly. god, you always fucking miss him. you turn to face the doorway, eagerly anticipating his face, longing for one of his speciality hugs.

instead, a storm enters your kitchen in the form of your boyfriend.

you raise and eyebrow.

“lando?” you question.

your hips are in his hands before he can answer. he’s walking you backwards until the granite of the counter is digging into your lower back.

“turn around.” his voice is gravelly, commanding. you do as you’re told.

the hoodie is bunched around your waist, your panties are tugged to the side. you can hear the rustle of fabric, assuming he’s getting himself ready. two fingers gloss through your folds while he pushes you down, bending you over for him. he’s rubbing circles into your clit and you’re keening into his touch.

“you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” you manage to choke out. he grunts in response.

“just need to get inside you.” is all he replies. well, okay then.

lando rearranges you, hiking one of your knees up so that’s it’s resting on the countertop. your other foot barely touches the floor when he fucks into you, ruthless. you cry out, reaching blindly behind you for him. you graze his hip and he shivers, pushing into you even harder.

he’s frantic, messy with it, thumbing at your clit. there’s hardly any room to move his hand, so he’s grinding the pad of his thumb as best he can. the pressure builds in your belly embarrassingly fast. you love when he gets like this, but you will pry what’s wrong out of him later when he curls up into his chest.

“gonna give you another one. s’all i can think about. fucking you full.” he mutters. your back arches into him.

“please.” you whimper, slurred. it’s all you can think about too.

your plea ushers along his orgasm, and he drops his head against your back. you’re shaking when you finish; he stays buried deep for a moment, silence washing over you.

when he helps you stand up, he kisses you deep. he brushes the hair from your face, says hello properly.

“wanna go see her.” he mumbles.

-

when you finally manage to climb the stairs, you see straight into your daughters room.

lando is stood over her crib, watching her sleep in the lamp lit room. he’s cooing something to her that you can’t make out. your knees are weak at the sight. you want to fill this house with children that look like him and laugh the way he does.

he catches you watching, sending you a wink, a promise that he’ll meet you in bed. when he finally does, drawing back the sheets and dropping into bed beside you, he wraps himself around you instantly.

“talk to me.” you command, toying with his hair in a way that you know turns him into mush in your hands.

“can’t win a race, can’t give you another baby. just- fuck.” he sighs, voice so small. you tear up but you push that aside for now.

“stop, lando. don’t do this to yourself.” you try to sound firm, attentive.

“just- am i good to you? am i good to her?” he needs to hear you say it, that’s the only thing that will talk him down from this spiral. he’s exhausted, and this is often a consequence.

“sometimes i think you hung the stars in the sky.” you hum, kissing his forehead.

gentle snores lull you to sleep.

-

quickie

you go with him to austin.

it seemed logical, after the events of qatar. your daughter has been stolen away by lando’s dad, who is showing her the paddock and introducing her to mechanics. you watch on, momentarily, because then lando is stealing you away.

“haven’t you got fp3 in a minute?” you ask, coy smile on your face. he’s pulling your jeans down and kicking them away.

“this won’t take long.” he smirks.

you crave the upper hand for a change. his race suit is already undone, so you make your move. you tug down his fireproofs, taking his cock in your hands. he’s hard already, glistening for you. he groans, but doesn’t make you stop.

you’re watching him through your eyelashes, his head tipping back in pleasure. you work your hand around him, up and down, applying pressure at the base and around the tip. it’s flushed red, wet in your hand and he looks too pretty to stop. he can have you later, in your hotel room, you think. right now, you’re having him.

lando is panting, thrusting into your hand when he comes for you. you’re soaked through, and he can probably see the damp patch on the panties. his release hits your stomach, painting your flushed skin white. your eyes scan the room for something to clean yourself with, but he beats you to it.

thick fingers swipe through the mess he’s made. your panties are tugged to the side and then he’s fucking you with said fingers. you cannot produce a thought, mouth gaping open in the shape of an ‘o’. the sight before you has you gushing, and he uses that leverage to speed up.

“you think i’m gonna let it go go waste, honey? silly girl. pretty, pretty girl.” he mutters.

your hips are bucking into his hand when he pulls out of you, collecting more of him from your belly, and then he’s thrusting them in again. you tear up from the pleasure coursing through you, white hot. he’s crazy, you think, but he’s so fucking beautiful, teasing glint in his eye as he curls his fingers deeper.

“want it so bad, don’t you? gotta keep you full for me, don’t i?”

you’re sure you can be heard from the garage when your orgasm hits.

-

office party

a burnt orange dress clings to your hips and a curly haired man clings to your hand.

the mtc is lit up for another gala that you and lando have to attend. the season is over and they’ve had a great run, so a toast must be made to celebrate that.

you watch him get passed around the room between sponsors and other important people, proud of what he’s achieved. you hate sharing him, but it’s a necessary evil, so you drink champagne with oscar’s girlfriend, lily, and natalie pinkham.

when lando comes back to you, his PR smile is dropped and that genuine, boyish grin returns that you have so missed in his momentary absence. he introduces you to some people, proudly showing you off, sinking drinks as he does.

it’s nearing 10pm when his actions become questionable. his hand stays on your ass, his words whispered in your ear are filthy and his sly kisses on your neck stop being quite so sly.

you remove him from the main event, just for a moment, just to try and get him to compose himself before you jump him against one of the vintage racing cars. he sees this as an invitation, however, and then everything goes awry.

he’s dragging you into the lift, kissing you against the closed doors. when you stumble out a floor up, you can still hear the function in full swing. he’s pulling you down a hallway and into what you assume is an office. when he has you sat on a desk, you realise where you are.

“is this zak’s office?” your eyes pop out of your head, bewildered.

“maybe.” he shrugs. he’s smirking like a bastard.

“you’re insane.” you shake your head, standing from the desk, but his lips ghost your ear and you’re putty in his hands.

“you’re driving me insane. coming here in this tight fucking dress. can’t stop looking at you, thinking about this.” his hand rubs over your lower belly as he speaks, and then you’re back on the desk.

lando’s on his knees, peeling the silky material over your thighs until your barely there panties are in his face. he mouths over them briefly, and then they’re gone and his tongue is buried to the hilt in your cunt.

it doesn’t take him long to get you off, the alcohol and the thrill of being in the one place you should never have sex pushing you quickly towards your orgasm.

the glass wall of windows is too inviting for lando to pass up, so on shaky legs, you’re pressed up against them, looking out over the pond and the fairy lights when he pushes into you.

he’s kissing over your shoulder, your neck, holding your down on him while he thrusts up into you. you turn your head to kiss him, to let him swallow up your noises that could give you away.

“you’re so fucking good for me, honey. letting me have you here like this just so i can give you a baby.” he slurs against your lips, pussy drunk and ravenous.

he finds your clit, fast fingers making small swipes against it and you want to cry.

“gonna make this time count, yeah, honey? gonna keep it all inside of you until we get home?”

you try to nod, try to say something but you’re choking on air and dripping all over him. a couple more thrusts and you’re the perfect vessel for him to release into, throbbing and hot around his cock.

“beg for it, honey, come on. tell me how much you want it.” lando mumbles right in your ear.

“lando, please. please, please, please.” you whimper. “come for me, baby, need it inside of me.”

you leave the office a lot more composed than when you entered it. well, aside from the remnants of him that are running down your inner thighs.

-

a month later, lando’s laughing. he’s actually laughing, while you cringe, burying your blushing face in his chest.

you’re holding a pregnancy test in your hands, finally a positive one.

when you do the maths, you realise where baby norris was conceived, and you try and make him promise never to tell anyone that it was in his boss’s office.

“it’s a funny story.” he tells you. there are tears in his eyes.

“you’re so lucky i love you.” you roll your eyes. you are also dangerously close to crying.

but truthfully, you’re the lucky one. he carries you to bed that night, claiming that now you had a baby on board, you had to be careful!

you dream of him, that night. the man that hung the stars in the sky.

-

once again, idk what came over me i’m sorry lmfao

-

taglist

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sore loser

summary: the scales of your rivalry with joel miller tips in his favor as he calls out your mistake and you end up a loser. the classic "you hate your partner but fucks him anyway"

pairing: mean!joel miller x afab!reader

warnings: 18+ please and thank you, hate sex, rough vaginal sex, spitting, slapping, choking, fingering, squirting, sloppy/rough blow job, degradation, age-gap, begging, biting, mean!joel, forced orgasm & multiple orgasms, tasting joel's blood?? no aftercare please let me know if i missed anything!! (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)

You hated everything about him. You hated the way he looked, the way he spoke, and the way he walked. You hated how he was always confident, how he was always right, and the fact that he always knew which buttons to push. You hated how he was a better shooter than you, how he was better at finding supplies than you, and how he was better at tracking than you. You hated his salt-and-pepper beard, the curls in his hair, and his sun-kissed skin. You hated his brown eyes, his deep voice, and his large hands. You hated how he treated you like a child, how he called you "kid", and how he looked after you.

Most of all, right now, you hated that he shot the clicker before you managed to put a knife to its skull, how he made it look like you couldn't save yourself. He took the win and he got the point.

It was a game and you were losing this battle for dominance, and you hated losing to Joel Miller.

You had been biting your tongue so damn hard to keep yourself from stooping down on his level and the taste of blood lingered in your mouth for about 4 minutes before the last straw had been drawn.

Joel just couldn't stop himself from being an ass and work in yet another one of his snarky remarks.

"Get over yourself, Miller. I had it handled," you grumbled.

"Sure looked like it," he retorted sarcastically, making scattering noises as he dug through a crate in the warehouse.

The way he didn't even bother looking at you only made you more furious. "How the fuck do you think I survived this long on my own, huh? I've been—"

"Ask myself that every time I save your ass," he interrupted mockingly.

Your blood was boiling in your veins. He felt so fucking superior and it was driving you insane. You knew your worth, but for some reason, you had this crippling urge to prove yourself.

"Somebody needs to knock you off your fucking horse, Miller."

Joel chuckled grimly. "S'that right, sweetheart? Wanna give it a go?"

His infuriating words made you stand to your feet, and frankly, it excited Joel to see you acting like you might just do something about it.

With a groan he got up himself, easily towering over you. You swallowed harshly, jaw clenched.

Joel's face was set in a firm expression, dark eyes analyzing your face to predict your next move. It was a face-off.

There was a subtle smirk and you wanted to wipe it off so badly. This was entertaining to him—a challenge he joined, a game he played just for the kick of it.

You couldn't win a fight against him, you were smart enough to recognize that fact (at least for now). So you breathed out, your nervousness drawing out a shaky laugh.

"I hate you," you spat and turned around, sure you'd only dig a deeper hole for yourself if you looked at him any longer.

"That what you tell yourself when you dip your little fingers down between your legs?" he wondered aloud, not even testing the waters but diving head first into the lake of all your buttons that he planned to push: "Don't think I don't hear you moaning my name when you get off in the night."

Your eyes went wide and shame colored your cheeks pink. You hoped he wouldn't notice as your eyes shot daggers, completely dumbfounded, hoped your anger had already made your face red. You were at a loss for words, completely and utterly embarrassed.

The mixture of emotions compiled a message to your brain for you, and before you had a chance to regret it, you lashed out. Your hand stopped clenching and raised to deliver a well-deserved proper bitch-slap, but Joel caught your wrist. It all happened quickly, and it felt like you were watching on rather than being forced back against the wall, arms suspended against the cool and rough cement in his grasp.

Joel's head cocked, eyes blazing down at you. "You wanna try that again, sweetheart?"

The sudden close proximity made you involuntarily grind your hips forward.

"So that's what all this s'about, huh? You’ve been givin' me that bratty attitude 'cause ya got your panties in a twist?"

"Fuck you!" you snapped, the words seething through your grit teeth, leaving a bad aftertaste on your tongue.

"But that's what you want, innit sweetheart? Goin' around acting like I'm the devil's spawn, but really you just want a good fucking, yeah?"

You hated how he was always right.

Your arms strained in his grasp, writhing to get loose though the heat pooling between your legs protested. You enjoyed having him this close. You could smell him, see him.

"You're so fucking full of yourself, Miller," you snarled but had stopped trying to fight off his grip.

Joel chuckled down at you, tutting: "F’you wanna be full o' me, too, darlin', all you gotta do is ask nicely."

There was no fucking way he was actually offering to fuck you. It had to be a dream. A nightmare. But it wasn't. And he was offering exactly that, you realized as his head tilted. He was dead serious.

You knew it wasn't out of the good of his heart, so he must be wanting this, too. And if he needed it as much as you did, you were going to make him work for it.

You ground your hips into his again, this time very much on purpose.

"Tell me you don't want to bend me over right now, Miller," you leaned forward and whispered in his ear, letting your lips graze the soft flesh of his neck. His cock was hard against your cunt and he didn't do a thing to push you away. "Tell me you haven't just been dying to try out this tight pussy. An old man like you can't have had a proper fuck in ages."

He laughed. "Swallow your pride, sweetheart. You've never even been with a real man before, have ya? Always waltzin' around in your short skirts at the Byson, whoring yourself out for attention from those boys."

"Knew you'd been checking me out," you smirked, the movements of your hips now a consistent grind against him. "But you're right. And those boys can't help, they dunno how to handle me."

"I don't do charities, darlin'. F’you want me to fuck that shitty attitude out of ya, you're gonna have to prove yourself."

This time around, Joel pushed his clothed cock against your pussy and you knew what he wanted.

You wriggled your hands, inching closer to his face but never letting your skin touch. "Kinda difficult to get on my knees when you’re holding me like this, innit?"

Joel let go only to force you down on the ground, but you didn't protest. You had lost all filters, all of your arrogance as you were faced with his cock prodding at the zipper of his jeans.

Looking up as you eagerly undid his belt, you were pleased to see him inhaling deeply, proudly as he looked down on you. You pulled the zipper down, and your breath hitched as his cock saluted. He wasn't wearing underwear.

His cock was thicker than you had imagined, girthier than what you had felt while fingering yourself that night which he had so mockingly reminded you of. Long with a slight curve and a purple mushroom head unscathed. A drop of pre-cum covered the slit and you imagined it was crying for you.

"You gonna put that bratty little mouth to good use or do I gotta do that for you, too?"

Instinctively you glared up at him, giving him a look but it was washed away a second later as he took charge.

Grabbing a fistful of your hair, Joel forced you onto his cock, not giving you a second to wet your lips or spit on it. Harshly pushing you down on his cock, you found that it wasn't needed, there was plenty of saliva in your mouth to lubricate him. A whimper left you when his head hit the back of your mouth, your throat automatically constricting at the sudden intrusion. You felt your cunt mimic the reaction and clenched around nothing.

Joel was heavy in your mouth, the thickness making you worry the back row of your teeth would scrape him. If they did he didn't care, for when you looked up at him through teary eyes he was unconcerned.

He forcefully prodded against your throat, slipping in just enough to push further and you gagged.

Joel inhaled sharply. "S'a tight little throat you got there. Guess you haven't been whoring around as much as I thought," he chuckled, holding your face pressed firmly against him, your nose nuzzled in the patch of curls.

He held you there for a couple of seconds, allowing your throat to get adjusted despite acting seemingly careless about how you felt. A moment later he pulled you off by your hair, and you gasped hoarsely, blinking up at him through the tears slowly blurring your vision.

Hovering over you, Joel cupped your cheeks and lifted you slightly, bending down as he did. For a second you thought he was going to kiss you, but his fingers dug into your face, forcing your mouth open for him and he spat on your tongue, an obscene look on his face.

"Eyes on the price, sweetheart," he chuckled and landed you back on your knees.

With his hand holding you tightly by a makeshift ponytail, Joel pushed his cock back into your mouth and without warning, set a brutal pace sure to give you a headache. As slick gathered between your legs, a migraine was the least of your worries. You snaked a hand between your legs to relieve the tingling strain.

The breaths you were granted came in between the thrusts and you squeezed your eyes shut, feeling dizzy, prompting him to yank at your hair.

"Look at me," he grunted coarsely, voice going straight to your sex and you ground down hard on your hand, gasping for air. Joel admired your puffy lips, smeared with saliva, strings of drool connecting your mouth to the tip of his cock. "You look like a fuckin' mess, sweetheart. This what you been thinkin' about, hm? Been thinking 'bout acting like a little slut f'me, huh?"

His degrading words fueled your fire, both making you want to bite back at him and make him come down your throat. Opting for the latter, you tried to take him back in your mouth, wanting to put your adjusted throat to good use, but he yanked you back. A whimper left your lips and he slapped your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

"F'you know what's good for you, you'll answer when I ask you a question."

Wet and needy, you didn't hesitate. "Yes! Yes, Joel," you cried, one hand on his hip for purchase, the other hid between your legs, fervently toying with your clit. "Wanted you to treat me like a whore! Wa—wanted you to fuck me stupid!"

That's when he noticed your hand between your legs, eagerly seeking out friction. His brows connected in a crease of anger, and he had you on your wobbly legs one moment and hurled you onto a dirty surface the next.

"The fuck you think you're doin', huh? Touching yourself without permission?" Joel growled and for the first time his disappointment got to you.

He held you by your throat and you could feel the calluses in his palm scrape your skin.

"M'sorry—couldn't help myself," you babbled feverishly as he shoved a hand down your undone pants, feeling just what you had been so disrespectful to touch.

A guttural moan escaped him and you could have died just then, knowing you did that to him.

"Christ, sweetheart. You got this wet from chokin' on my cock, huh?" he mused absent-minded and you couldn't decide which you liked more; Joel calling you "sweetheart" or— "such a fuckin' slut.”

You were startled but thankful when he pulled down your jeans in one swift movement, exposing you to the cold air in the warehouse.

He didn't give you a warning before he plunged two fingers into your cunt, curling them against the velvety roof of your wet cave. Clawing onto his shoulder with a gasp of surprise, you instinctively tried to lift yourself and relieve the overwhelmingly intense feeling.

"Where you goin', sweetheart? This not what you wanted?" You desperately wanted to slap the grin off of his face, but he had you completely wrapped around his finger. Literally and figuratively. "Didn't you wanna be used like a little slut, hm?"

"Please," you begged, drawing the word out with a rugged moan and clutching to his shoulders. "Ff—uck!"

He fingered you at an unforgiving pace, three fingers and his palm slapping against your cunt each time. The squelches from your pussy resonated off the bare walls and if you hadn't been so focused on the pain mixing with pleasure, you would have been ashamed Joel was the one making you this wet.

"Joel!" you cried, tugging at the front of his shirt. "Plea-please! Need your cock!"

He choked you with his unoccupied hand, forcing your face inches from his. "Quit whinin' or I'll leave you 'ere," he threatened.

You looked up at him through hooded eyes, unable to comprehend your increasing lust for him from being this close. Joel's breath was hot on your face, breathing his air, you became dizzy from a mix of him and your impending orgasm.

"That's right, sweetheart, cream all o'er my fingers," he beckoned, feeling your contracting walls squeeze his fingers. Your legs were trembling, wanton moans spilling from your lips as Joel pulled an orgasm from you.

You incoherently begged him to fill you up, wanting nothing more than to milk his thick cock, but when he caught sight of your pleading eyes, he applied pressure to your clit instead. It was sore from the heel of his palm having slapped it repeatedly and it made you unable to come down from your high properly.

Your legs spasmed as his torturous fingers brutally skirted across your bundle of nerves. Before you could process what happened, a gush of pleasure sprayed from you.

Your cheeks flushed pink, realizing Joel had just made you squirt. You had never done that before, and you looked at him with an expression of surprise mixed with confusion. He looked proud.

Joel groaned as he stroked his throbbed cock, smearing the precum over the head while his other hand pushed down hard on your belly, holding you just at the edge of the table.

Stammering his name, your attempt at any sort of coherent sentence was foiled as he slid his girthy cock into your cunt.

Your eyes fluttered shut, walls clenching around him. You had never felt so full. "Joel—" you shuddered, gripping his bicep for purchase.

A string of curses left his lips, a crease knitting his brows together in concentration. "Fuckin' hell, sweetheart, s'a tight lil' hole ya got 'ere."

Joel wanted to take a moment just then, revel in the sweet clench of your pussy, catch his breath but he knew you would notice. As much as he had a hidden desire to ruin every other man for you and have you tail him like a lost puppy, he refused to acknowledge how overdue this was.

He didn't give you another second to adjust before he rocked his hips back and slammed his cock back into you. If you thought his fingers hit a spot, his cock fucking destroyed that.

You couldn't even form moans properly as his hips rutted at a bruising pace, expertly molding your cunt to fit him. His face contorted and he grumbled something under his breath, but you didn't care to ponder what as he filled you up. You were still dazed from the previous orgasms and it was like he wouldn't allow you to come down. Your ragged breaths, his grunts, and the wanton sounds of skin slapping filled your head as you soared around on cloud nine.

A large hand snuck under your shirt, the calluses on his palm rough against your skin but you loved the feeling as he squeezed your breast, thumb and index pinching your nipple.

Your knuckles turned pale from clutching down hard on his shoulders, fingernails clawing indents at the exposed skin on his neck and collar.

You hoped the crescents would outlast this moment, that Joel would curse at the sight the next time he looked in a mirror. You hoped he wouldn't be able to get this moment out of his head then, not ever, thinking back to this moment whenever he would see the scars you left on him.

A hiss escaped you and tore the thought of making your mark out of your mind. His deft fingers were rubbing your sore clit once again.

There was determination on his face and animalistic hunger in his dark eyes—he looked as if there was no getting through to him, like he was stuck in a world of his own.

Whether he insisted on drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you for your pleasure or his ego, you did not know. Joel always had something to prove—to himself or the people around him, it was another thing about him you didn't know. In this moment, as he chased every high for you, you didn't care either.

You hated him for making you feel this good. Hated him for making you moan in pleasure, hated him for making your legs shake uncontrollably. You wanted to taunt him, crack a spiteful comment about his age or something, let him know he wasn't doing as well as he thought—but he was. You could lie, but your body would betray you.

There was no snide comment left in you as Joel's hips pistoned into yours. It felt too good. He felt too good.

"S'too much," you gasped and held onto his shoulder, not pushing him away but not pulling him any closer either. "I can't."

The pressure on your clit was too much. The frantic rubbing, the harsh pads of his fingers, mixing pleasure with pain in the most unforgiving way. It hurt too good to want to stop him, though.

Joel surprised you, pressing his forehead against yours. His eyes were heavy, and his jaw was slack, the blissful expression ruined by a smug chuckle.

"You can. C'mon, sweetheart, I believe in you," he tutted like one would to a child riding a bike for the first time.

It spurred something inside you, the degradation. Your hooded, watery eyes caught sight of his plump lip through the blur and without a second thought, you lunged forward and bit it, your teeth piercing the soft skin.

It was the closest thing you would get to feeling them, you knew it, and you weren't about to beg for a taste.

A slap landed on your cheek, sharp and stinging, but he kept his hand there on the side of your face, cupping it in an almost endearing way.

Joel hissed at the taste of blood—surprised but not disgusted. The hand cupping your face in the sweetest way turned to force your mouth open, and you grinned bitterly when he spat on your tongue, tasting his blood.

His thrusts became more frantic, the pad of his thumb sloppily skipping over your clit as he draws your pleasure out. Forcing you to look into his eyes while you come around his cock, Joel's too far gone watching you to notice the way his balls tightened.

"Fuck—"

Slick with your juices Joel slips out of your clenching pussy, jerking his cock a few pumps as he hisses, strings of milky sperm decorating your abdomen.

Your heavy breaths hang in the room like thick syrup, bodies sticky, tension at a maximum as the lust turns back to hatred.

Joel moves from you with a grunt, a sly smirk on his lip as he moves his gaze from the mess on your stomach to your eyes. He leaves you to clean yourself up and tucks his softening cock into his pants, the zipper resounding comically loud through the silence. It reminds you of a secret between children, zipping your lips close as a solemn pledge.

It was over and it would never be brought up again. As you did your best to clean up, get back into your clothes, and comb your fingers through your hair, your eyes were trained on Joel's back—if eyes could kill and all that.

At once, you were back to hating one another. You hoped your nails had dug deep enough into his shoulder, hard enough to leave scars.

Hello hello!!! I literally haven’t sent an ask in forever but your writing IS SOOOO GOOD 😮‍💨🤌🏾🤎🤎🤎🤎

Can I request 18. Or 22.👀👀😂

I mayhaps am a Mingi Stan lmfaoooo!

Congrats on getting 500 followers!!🫶🏾

22. Missionary with Seonghwa or Doggy with Mingi?

BACK TO BACK MINGI LETS FUCKIN GOOOOO thank you for ur well wishes and compliments baby 🩷 hehe enjoy mingi!

Warnings: smut, pwp, size training @ the beginning, backshots, unprotected sex, it’s mingi and his fat dick, cream pies, orgasms

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie (message me to be in taglist!)

K’s 500 this or that Masterlist here!

When Mingi told you his cock was big, you totally did not believe him until you actually saw his cock. It was once when you sneaked into your shared bathroom with him because you left your phone at the edge of the sink. You slowly pushed the door open and the folding door bends, but Mingi is too busy rapping while letting the hot water run down his back, the steam fogging up the shower partition. You, at the perfect fucking timing, turn your head to your partner who was absolutely oblivious, and your eyes went straight to his cock. Even in the fogged up glass, you could still make out his shape—he’s definitely a grower from the looks of it. Before you realise what the fuck you were even doing, you manage to snap out of it in time before slipping out of the bathroom successfully.

And that’s how you ended up in the predicament of letting Mingi slowly inch into you and keeping his cock in your pussy as you adjust to it over the course of a little over a week. Mingi doesn’t know how he’s able to control himself because every time he enters his cockhead into you, he just wants to spilt you open so fucking badly, but he recognises that your comfort comes first, so he pushes his feral thoughts aside, often biting his cheek when he enters you from below, distracting himself by drawing circles on your thigh while he snuggled against the nape of your neck when the both of you cuddle.

He often whispers praises when you’re able to fit in another inch or two, sometimes teasing you before you slap his chest from behind but he wants to make sure you grow accustomed to his size.

He knows it’ll be worth every minute.

And he’s rewarded when on the ninth day, his cock sinks into you fully and his mind completely turns into mush the moment he’s buried into you to the hilt. He hears your whimpers and gasps as you clench around him once more and he kisses the nape of your neck while rubbing your thighs.

“Shit, that feels so good. You did so well for me, princess”, he groans, fighting the urge to start pounding into you, so he opts to squeeze your thighs instead. “How are you feeling?”

“Full. So full, babe”, you whine, wanting to contract the muscles on your abdomen from the pleasure, your palm pressing against the bulge pushing against your womb.

He gives you time to adjust once more, groaning from time to time when he feels you squeeze around him.

“You can start moving, Min”, you mutter, pressing your face into the pillow, your eyes fluttered shut as your grip on his arm around your waist tightens. He pulls out and you squeeze his arm, your thighs trembling from how fucking good he feels as his cock just drags against your cunt.

And he slowly starts fucking you, filling you right up, his cockhead always pressing against your cervix, while he listens to you slowly unravel through squeezes and moans. Mingi makes the mistake of looking down, and he swallows hard when he sees the way you’re creaming so fucking much on his cock.

“You’re gonna drive me insane babe”, he says, tightening his grip around you as he picks up the pace, stroking your thighs as he lifts it up so he enters you at a much deeper angle, one that makes fireworks explode beneath your eyelids. “Mingi…! Fuck! Oh god, you’re so big,”you sob, feeling your mind slowly break from the pleasure. The pressure has practically subsided, and now it’s just pleasure after pleasure whenever he fucks into you. Fuck, you’re gonna get disgustingly addicted to this. It doesn’t help your case that his moans are deep and it vibrates in your ears, you feel your cunt spit more slick—all the more it being easier for him to slide his cock in and out of you now, feeling his balls slap against your skin with every thrust.

Mingi hisses as he pulls out of you, before he shifts himself to go behind you, and you shift automatically with him, your ass perched up in the air while his hands are on your hips.

He pushes his cock in slowly and swallows hard when his cock glides into your sopping cunt so fucking easily. He almost loses his fucking mind.

“Look at you, princess. So well adjusted to my cock that it slides in so easily now”, Mingi hums, giving your ass a soft squeeze that draws a squeal from you, before he doesn’t give you a warning to start pounding into you once more. Your eyes are rolled back, your fingers holding onto the sheets for dear life as he abuses your cervix from this fucking insane position. You’re practically bouncing off his cock and the new angle completely breaking your mind, with only broken moans and cries leaving you every time he thrusts into you.

And Mingi fucking loves it.

The knot in your tummy tightens and drool is seeping past the corner of your lips as you can’t even find the energy to tell him properly that you’re about to cum.

“Cumming-“ you barely finish your sentence before your orgasm hits you, white spots filling your vision the pleasure shoots into your brain and cunt, squeezing the fuck out of Mingi’s cock. Your mind is somewhere else at this point, the only constant feeling is Mingi’s cock just shoved into you so fucking good.

“A-ah, fuck! Oh princess, you’re squeezing me so much-“ Mingi grunts his cock twitching so damn much as his thrusts become erratic. A long, drawn moan Mingi releases before he jerks into your cunt, warm cum filling you up as he doesn’t want to let go of your hips. His body tenses for a few more seconds, and he catches his breath before he slowly pulls out, watching the way the mixture of his load and yours drip out of your abused and fluttering hole, and drizzle downwards.

He releases his grip on your hips and your lower body slides down onto the bed. Mingi’s arm snakes around your waist as he pulls you close, his other hand brushing your hair back from your face as he presses a kiss on your forehead before you let yourself be taken by sleep.

Did you know I’ve probably cried like a dozen times from BATFAMILY fic over the last two weeks? I’m not a big cryer, so that’s saying something for me, by which I mean, I realize I have some incredibly intense feelings about fictional characters, but also fandom is phenomenal about hitting those feelings dead on in exactly the way they mean to do. And it’s great, hell yeah make me cry buckets in emotional catharsis!! And then balance it out with comfort or humor because my soul needs soothing, too! I have been reading so many comics lately (so many good comics, what is this, I’m not used to having comics I actually think are good) and I love the canon so very much, but part of the draw towards this fandom has always been the enthusiastic fic response, the willingness to explore things the comics themselves don’t always have time for, whether aftermath of events or psychological effects that aren’t necessarily intended but are fascinating to consider or just straight up downtime that’s not about a case because fic doesn’t need to make people punch things in every issue. The two go hand in hand for me and getting fun comics to read and fun fic to read has been really meaningful to me in a time when I’ve really needed that in my life. I hope that I can return the favor even a little by shoving a bunch of fics at you and only making you scroll a little to get through my Dick Grayson Problem. BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST FERAL ROBIN I’M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ May Our Memories Light The Way by sElkieNight60, dick & bruce, time travel, 1.9k      Bruce travels into the past and serves up an apology long over-due. ✦ Late Spring by halyordan, dick & bruce & alfred, 3.5k      Dick gets in his first ‘fight’ at school. Luckily, Bruce was an angry boy once. He knows how to deal with it. ✦ the color violet by TheResurrectionist, dick & bruce & cast, 2.6k      The address – 1007 Mountain Drive – told Alex two things: one, their patient was either going to be someone unreasonably wealthy or an unlucky service worker, and two, getting to the actual patient was going to be a bitch. ✦ as i was walkin’ by oh_fudgecakes, dick & bruce & alfred, 3.6k      Bored and chased out of the kitchen by an irate Alfred, a young Dick Grayson falls through a loose floorboard while exploring the attic and ends up in an locked storeroom housing an interesting set of journals. ✦ help me fill this hole in my soul by renecdote, dick & bruce & cast, 5.9k      Dick nearly drowns on patrol one night. He’s fine, except that he really isn’t. Alfred and Bruce take care of him when he gets sick and let him know that even though his parents are gone he isn’t alone. ✦ medio by newsical, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.1k      Loss, again. This loss was by his hand, by his own tongue, with words so sharply edged that they tore apart his mouth and left his lips bloody. The manor was silent, and he was alone. And Alfred’s half birthday was in three days. ✦ My Little Bird (is a Troublemaker) by sElkieNight60, dick & bruce & clark & cast, 10.9k      No, not good enough, thought Bruce as he gripped the boy’s shoulders in his hands. Dick still didn’t move and the man had to resist the violent urge to shake the answer out of him. This wasn’t his little bird. This wasn’t his Robin, he would never do something like this. Dick gets caught drunk, Bruce loses it. ✦ things kept hidden by emavee, dick & bruce & cast, 9.7k      “Better hope the Batman doesn’t catch wind of you. Batman hates metas. He’ll make you disappear. That’s what he does.” “But I’d never hurt anyone,” Dick stammers. He doesn’t know very much about Batman, but he’s a hero, right? He fought crime, like Superman, and Superman was a hero. Right? ✦ (Not) Enough by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.3k      After the training simulation goes wrong, Bruce takes his kid home. ✦ i can’t promise (it’s not written in the stars) by konan_konan, dick & bruce & alfred & cast, 7.3k      Batman is following him, surely, but he’s smaller and faster and he’s not going to let someone take him and lock him up again. Wayne Manor, he’s learned, is just another kind of prison. It may be big and fancy but it is also empty and cold and he’s not going back. Tony Zucco dies tonight, he tells himself. It is the only thing that matters. ✦ what’s needed most by dizarys, dick & bruce & alfred, 1k      Dick wants to fly. Bruce would like that to not involve giving him a heart attack for once. ✦ two sheep counted, but not enough to sleep by batofgoodintent (crownedcrusader), dick & bruce, 1.8k      Dick hasn’t been sleeping. It’s a problem Bruce should have addressed by now. BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ (At the Very Least), I Can by sElkieNight60, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian, 3k      “… something is wrong.” That was Bruce’s voice, he would know it anywhere. OR, Dick Grayson + Full Body Paralysis ✦ Catch by sElkieNight60, bruce & dick, 2k      Raptor has Bruce in dire straits. Nightwing catches Bruce as he falls. Then it turns out Bruce never fell at all, he jumped. “Dick. I didn’t fall. I jumped. I jumped because I knew you’d catch me.” Childhood trauma never truly goes away, it seems. OR, the emotional aftermath of “Better than Batman.” ✦ Call Me if You Need Me by LiterallyThePresident, bruce & dick & alfred, 1.1k      “Master Bruce is rather distraught, you see.” and now Alfred sounded pained, “The dose he received was not enough to render him immobile, but it is causing some paranoia and unpleasant hallucinations. He… Well, he appears to be rather convinced that something has happened to you.” BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ Sons and Fathers by FabulaRasa, dick & bruce & jefferson & dick/babs, 4.9k     Dick has three conversations that needed to be had, at the end of season three. This is blatantly a “there I fixed it” fic. ✦ The Best Medicine by JpegDotJpeg, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & alfred & cass, 2.2k      “I’m dying.” “You are not dying.” “This is it. It’s the end for me. I bet I have some exotic viral disease with no known cure and now I’m going to waste away into nothingness.” “I highly doubt that, Master Richard.” ✦ Look to the Stars by Zephyrra, dick & bruce & jason & hal & alfred & cast, lantern!dick, 8.3k      After Batman fires Robin for the last time, Dick becomes a Flying Grayson in an entirely new way: by becoming a Green Lantern. But no matter what kind of mask he dons, Dick Grayson has a way of (accidentally) changing history irrevocably. This is only the beginning. ✦ the courage of stars by theragingstorm, dick & clark/lois & jon & cast, 1.8k      When he really needs somebody, Dick goes to Metropolis. ✦ a great honour (to hold you up) by dizarys, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & duke, 2.6k      “For the last time, I’m not getting sick!” Jason and Tim exchanged skeptical looks behind Dick’s back. “You’re pale, shivering, and wince every time your bare skin touches the cold metal desk.” Jason ticked off on grease smeared fingers, “Sounds sick to me.” “Wonderful observations, Holmes.” Dick muttered, still looking through the microscope. “What does Watson have to add?” “That first of all, I’m Sherlock.” said Tim, “And my associate is correct. You should go get some rest.” ✦ i am tired of all these motherfuckin’ bombs on these motherfuckin’ spaceships by konan_konan, dick & bruce & damian & titans & background dick/kory & justice league, 4.5k      “Those generators won’t last long,” barks Batman. “We’re losing our window. What other plan do you propose, Nightwing?” He huffs. “I’m gonna blow up the ship.” or: when the justice league gets stranded in space, the teen titans come to the rescue. it doesn’t exactly go to plan. BATFAM FIC RECS - JASON TODD IS AN ASSHOLE CAT, I’M GONNA THROW HIM AT HIS SIBLINGS BECAUSE IT’S FUNNY: ✦ abyssal plain by glassofwater, dick & jason, 3.5k      “What did you do?” “Exactly what he said. I killed him.” ✦ Bang, bang by Ididloveyou_once, tim & jason & cast, 5.5k      ‘You shot me!’ Jason gasped, stunned, ‘Holy shit, you actually shot me.’ Tim’s eyes widened and he froze. They stared at each other for a second, dumbstruck and then- ‘Don’t tell Bruce.’ ✦ Break the Ice by dizarys, dick & jason, 1.5k      He felt the blades pierce his body. It was at the height of his leap, back arched as he sprang backwards over the car. A bolt of searing hot pain shot through his side then thigh. But Nightwing still landed with grace and flung his escrima sticks straight into two gang members’ heads. BATFAM FIC RECS - DICK AND DAMIAN WERE THE BEST BATMAN & ROBIN, I’M NOT HEARING ARGUMENTS ABOUT THAT EITHER: ✦ Not Quite Saudade by Wisptheraccoon, dick & damian & bruce & jason & tim & alfred & jon, 3.1k      Aka. The reason Dick is no longer allowed to leave on long missions without Damian. ✦ Scorpion-grass by Ididloveyou_once, dick & damian & bruce & tim, 2.9k      Damian gets hit with fear toxin and is forced to relive Dick losing his memories… Dick could’ve gone without knowing how the kid reacted to his amnesia. ✦ what’s waited till tomorrow starts tonight by theragingstorm, dick & damian & john/mary & cast, time travel, 63.4k wip      After an argument with his Batman, Dick Grayson, Damian finds himself in Dick’s past, with one of his greatest tragedies fast approaching and no easy route forward for either. As long as he risks being stuck seventeen years in the past, all he can do is live at the circus, with a family he never knew — and just maybe learn from it all. BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY’RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ When Wisdom Must Go by AnicomicQueen, bruce & dick & tim, 5.1k      Bruce experiences taking his children to get their wisdom teeth removed. Chapter 1: Dick (Age: 17) Chapter 2: Tim (Age: 16) ✦ So you’ll know where I’ve been by victoria_p (musesfool), jason & steph, 2.1k      “I just noticed your scars.” “We all have—Oh.” Jason drops his gaze again, runs his fingers along the faded incision on the left side of his chest. “No one else has one of these.” ✦ and when you’re in the trenches by dizarys, jason & tim & dick, 4.3k      When Jason stumbles across a shocking discovery, he’s forced to decide how much he truly cares about the people he used to call family. ✦ The Kids Are All Right by Browniesarethebest, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & alfred, 11.4k      Dick and Tim are de-aged. It goes about as well as anyone would expect. ✦ World’s Saddest Breakfast Club by motleyfam, dick & jason & tim & damian & bruce & cass & steph & duke & cast, 7k      Following a couple of Very Bad Weeks™ (which may or may not have involved being kidnapped and mildly tortured), Jason decides the best way to cheer himself up is to break into the Manor for a 3 a.m. snack. Turns out he isn’t the only one awake. BATFAM FIC RECS - I CUT MY TEETH ON DICK & TIM AS CLOSE BROTHERS AND NOT EVEN CANON WILL NOT TAKE IT FROM ME: ✦ Not So Large but Definitely In Charge by dottie_dc (dottie_wan_kenobi), dick & tim & bruce & alfred, 6.7k      Alternate universes suck so much. Tim has always known that, but he’s never really grasped it, not until he and Dick were forcibly thrown into one a week ago. ✦ there’ll always be a few things, maybe several things by incogneat_oh, dick & tim, ~1k      Tim breaks the silence, half-glancing over his shoulder to murmur, “Pop-culture has taught me that you’re supposed to seek out your parent in the middle of the night. Not your sibling.” “Pop-culture isn’t a perfect teacher, Timmy.” ✦ will we ever get to the other side? by dizarys, dick & tim, 4.8k      Blockbuster is dead and Dick is lost. Haunted by that night and no longer Nightwing, he flees Gotham only to find himself back in Bludhaven on mob business. Now Robin is the city’s new protector and Dick is determined to avoid Tim & his old life. That is, until he finds Tim bleeding in an alley. ✦ World Gone MAD by Havendance, dick & tim & justice league, 5.5k      Ask the GCPD about the Joker’s death, and they’ll tell you he died of natural causes. Ask the Justice League, and they’ll tell you that it’s a matter that’s been resolved internally. Ask Batman and he won’t give you an answer, because he’s Batman. The truth of the matter, however, is this: Dick Grayson beat the Joker to death. ✦ Wake Me Up Before You Go Go by incogneat_oh, dick & tim, ~1k      He’s already halfway up the stairs, towards the window on the second floor landing, when Dick says, “Tim.” He turns back, says wide-eyed and guilty, “Mhm? Can I– I’ll get you a blanket? If you want?” – Or, Tim visits Dick in Bludhaven. ✦ unleash the beast (with a kiss on the cheek) by InkpotSprite, dick & tim & bruce & jason & stephanie, 1.3k      Dick’s chest tightened as his lips parted to say something that he’d truly regret. Before a soft pair of lips pressed against his cheek, then disappeared so quickly that Dick was almost sure he’d imagined it. If it weren’t for Bruce’s fractionally wide eyes, Dick would think he had. Slowly, he turned his head to the side. Tim smiled back at him. BATFAM FIC RECS - I WILL DIE ON THE HILL THAT TIM DRAKE’S TRUE LOVE INTEREST IS CONNER KENT AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME, NOT EVEN GOD: ✦ cat tactic of healing by CarrionCarnival, tim/kon, 2.1k      Kon finds a moderately sick Tim, and decides that it’s his problem to solve. feline style ✦ In the Corner Taking up Space by Louis_the_Snake, tim/kon & cast, NSFW, 5.1k      Tim gets roped into doing a simple modeling gig for Wayne Fashion with some of his siblings and realizes that everyone he knows is way hotter than he is. And the hottest thing about him is his ass. Which ends up plastered in every major city in the U.S. ✦ Thief by rotasha, tim/kon, NSFW, 1.8k      Kon walks in on Tim wearing his leather jacket. ✦ only touched you once by distracted_dragon, tim/kon, NSFW, 1.8k      Kon decides to tease Tim a little with his TTK. ✦ Missing Words by Violet_Witch, tim/kon & cassie, 6.9k      It takes Tim years to realize what’s always been there. ✦ What’s Real and What Isn’t by JpegDotJpeg, tim/kon & bart, 2.3k      Kon’s eyes almost glow in the dark, a luminescent blue so vivid Tim almost can’t stand looking at them, though he has a harder time trying to look away from them. “I thought you were having a nightmare or something. Your heart was beating so hard it woke me up.” Tim feels himself a flush. He can’t even sleep without bothering someone else. “Oh,” He replies, voice small. “Sorry. I’m fine, you can go back to sleep.” “You’re shaking,” Kon points out and Tim curses internally. ✦ you taught me the courage of stars before you left by popsunner, tim & kon & bruce & damian & lois & jon & cassie & cast, 6k      “He loved you, you know,” She says wistfully, meeting his eyes. Tim looks away. “I loved him too.” “Love.” “What?” “Love,” she repeats. “Not loved. He might be gone, but we don’t love him any less.“ BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, THAT’S WHAT I’M HERE FOR: ✦ Arguments with the Recently Deceased by JackHawksmoor, dick & bruce & clark & tim & cast, 7.9k      Dick just got back from a lousy, week-long adventure traveling in time. When his ride drops him off at the cave the morning after he left, Dick isn’t expecting to find Bruce in the middle of a complete meltdown. Dick realizes there’s been a mistake- Dick hasn’t been gone six hours, he’s been gone six months, and everyone thinks he’s dead. ✦ Solar Flares by glassofwater, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & alfred & cast, 46.1k wip      Personhood, noun: the quality or condition of being an individual person. Son, noun: a man regarded as the product of a particular person, influence, or environment. Dick Grayson, noun: oldest son of Bruce Wayne, first son of Batman (i.e., a sum of parts, not a whole) ✦ Starlings in Winter by FromStarstuff, dick & bruce & clark & alfred & cast, 14.3k wip      When Dick was eleven years old he ran away from Gotham. No one could quite figure out why. Take your pick; there was a fight at school, a circus in town, and a song he can’t remember the melody of. Eleven-year-old Dick Grayson was flooded with grief, swimming in it, perpetually drowning. One day it was too much. ✦ Going Nuclear by wrsttballplayer, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & barbara & cass & steph & alfred, time travel, 15.3k wip      Dick looked at his younger self; the way his brow twisted up in so much anger and his was chest heaving with pure vitriol. Dick remembered what fury like that felt like. He remembered the way it burnt in his throat. He used to spew that poison at Bruce all the time, hell even the Titans had gotten the bad end of his temper more than once. And yet, Dick couldn’t place the last time he had been mad like that. Nowadays, all his anger died into withering flames of resignation and compromise more often than not. ✦ Why Is Tim the Only One With Any Tact? by CamsthiSky, dick & tim & wally, 4.1k      In which Tim tries to mediate an argument between Dick and Wally. Things don’t go so well. ✦ You Won’t Wake Up Alone by DawnsEternalLight, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian, 5.2k      Dick’s captured and drugged and probably about to die. The last thing he wants to do is die in front of his family, especially not his baby brothers, all he wants is to be with Bruce and feel safe again. ✦ Hold Me Dear and Close to Your Heart by sElkieNight60, dick & bruce & cast, 3.8k      Dick Grayson leaves his whole life behind when Bruce Wayne kicks him out. ✦ the flute of your whole existence by LovesFrogs, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & alfred, 4.2k     He could voice his greatest fears, weaknesses, or most secret dreams at the drop of a hat; all the things he’s never put into words before and keeps tucked close between his ribs. What kind of ammunition is his son going to ask for? What will he make Bruce admit, knowing he is incapable of a lie? ✦ The Kids Are(n’t?) Alright by avengemyheart, dick & bruce & tim & alfred & cast, rape aftermath, 3k      Dick saves a young rape victim from his babysitter and in the process reveals his own trauma. The problem? Dick is Batman at the time, and kids are blabber mouths. ✦ Cursed Silence by TheSilencer, dick & bruce & jason & tim & steph & cast, 3.4k      Dick Grayson is given a gift - to seal away his emotions. No one has a good time. ✦ Peeking Through the Tunnel Beyond by sElkieNight60, dick & bruce & cast, read the tags, 2.4k      Or, Dick Grayson just can’t seem to free himself from his past. And this time, Bruce is there. ✦ soft clocks by dustorange, dick & bruce & damian & jason & tim & alfred & tiger & cast, 35.2k      Dick has amnesia during his time at Spyral. The family grapples with finding out he’s alive. Dick grapples with finding out he has a family. ✦ Never Say That by JackHawksmoor, bruce & dick & jason & damian & cast, 9.6k      "Calm down, I’m not aiming for anything vital,” Jason said irritably. Batman turned away from the man he’d just floored. “We agreed-” he began sharply. “I didn’t promise anything,” Jason snapped. He lifted his gun, muttering under his breath. “You ought to be grateful, it could be worse-” Or: the Bats have an extremely bad night in Gotham City BATFAM FIC RECS - SOMETIMES YOU JUST NEED TO TAKE ALL THE SERIOUSNESS OUT OF THE ROOM AND STAY SILLY FOR AWHILE: ✦ there but for the grace of god by TheResurrectionist, hal & dinah & ollie & flash & j'onn & bat-kids & young justice & justice league, 3.7k      A Justice League fic where everyone argues about who’s the most beautiful and intimidating sexy from the Big Three and everyone has valid points. ✦ The One With The Bat’s Son by Maximum_Quinn, bruce & dick & wally & hal & billy, 3.4k      “Batman has seven kids.” Wally blinked. “You’re shitting me.” “Not even a little, I just overheard him and Supes talking.” “Oh my god,” he breathed, staring at Hal incredulously. “You don’t think -?” Hal nodded, slowly and seriously. “Batman could be Captain Marvel’s dad.”

HOME

A/N: im still in denial and this is my way of coping

WORD COUNT: 1k

SUMMARY: You knew the emotions would catch up with Harry once more after the show. And you're there to guide him through these overwhelming feelings.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

 You knew it would be just a matter of time before the overwhelming emotions of the final show would catch up with Harry again once he has left the stage. The speech he delivered was just the first wave, knowing Harry, and you know him probably better than anyone else, more was to come.

The backstage was full of hugs, congratulations and promises to never forget the experiences shared on this amazing journey. Harry stayed in his show outfit for way longer he usually did as he made his rounds among his friends, family, all his loved ones who came out to support him on the end of his tour. And you stayed by his side through it all. His hand remained wrapped around yours and you silently waited for him to process it.

Now you’re back in your hotel room, it’s almost dawn, the night has stretched long, though you know Harry wished it lasted forever. You’re lying in bed, waiting for him to finish in the bathroom, scrolling through your phone, watching all the fan made tributes to Love On Tour.

You notice that the water has shut down for a while now, but Harry still hasn’t come out. Slipping off the bed you walk over to the closed door and try to listen to the voices and figure out what he is doing and then you hear it.

The sobs.

“Harry? Can I come in?” you gently knock on the door before opening it and poking your head inside.

Standing in front of the mirror, he is leaning onto the sink, his wet curls are falling ahead and you see his shoulders shaking right away.

“Oh baby.” You push the door open more and move over to him, hugging his waist from behind as you press a million kisses between his shoulder blades.

“S-sorry, I just—“ he speaks up, but his sobs doesn’t let him talk.

“It’s okay. It’s okay baby,” you squeeze him and rest your forehead against the back of his neck while you just patiently give him the chance to let it all out.

You knew it was coming, it’s no surprise. You expected him to have his emotions overflow at one point, he gave over two years of his life to this tour, it’s natural he is having a hard time dealing with letting it go.

Minutes pass by and his breathing somewhat regulates, you loosen your hold around him and urge him to move around so you can look at him. You’ve seen the tiredness on his face for a while now, but it’s screaming now, mixed with the sadness and bitterness that’s eating him away right now.

You take his tear soaked cheeks in your hands and lift yourself up onto your tiptoes so your lips could meet his salty ones.

“Let’s get you to bed, okay?”

He just nods and lets you walk him out of the bathroom and to the bed. He takes his side and you climb onto yours and he curls against you in an instant, his head lying on your chest as you’re propped up against the headboard.

“Sorry, it just all… came crashing over me,” he breathes out, his voice croaked and low.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

With gentle fingers, you’re raking through his hair, massaging his scalp while his hands slip under your shirt, to your ribcage so he can follow how it expands with every breath you draw.

“It’s so weird that it’s over.”

“It is, yeah,” you hum. Raking your brain you’re trying to figure out what would help him and you decide to recall your favorite memories. “Do you remember the show in Nashville? When I spilled cranberry juice on your shirt so you didn’t wear one under the sparkly jacket?”

“I remember that,” he chuckles. “Don’t think the fans were mad at it.”

“They all just want to see you naked, like I do,” you tease him. “That’s why I hid your shirt on Wembley night four.”

“What?” he lifts his head. “That was you?”

“Of course,” you grin.

“You cheeky little thing,” he shakes his head before resting his chin on your chest this time so he can look at you. “I loved it when you matched your outfit with mine.”

“You remember what shows we matched?” you challenge him.

“Madison Square Garden night one and two, Denver, Tokyo, Edinburgh, Vienna…” he recites, probably better than you could have.

“My mom loves the picture of us in Edinburgh, we looked like two Barbie dolls,” you chuckle.

“Pauli said you should have gotten matching outfits with them as well.”

“I am part of the Love Band too, right?”

“Especially when Sarah teaches you how to drunk before shows,” he smirks, taking you back to all the times Sarah was your teacher even though your sense of rhythm has never been the best.

“I would make an excellent drummer, come on!”

“Absolutely,” he laughs and the tears are finally gone, it’s all just the most precious memories from the past two years.

It gets brighter outside but the two of you can’t stop talking about the best moments you’ll always remember. Harry recalls his favorite fan moments, the signs, the reactions, he tells you about how he often thinks about the pregnant women he did gender reveals for and if the babies have been born already. You tell him about your favorite shows, the best dance moves he has busted out on stage and soon there’s no show you haven’t brought up, there’s something memorable in each and every one.

It’s past six in the morning when Harry finally falls asleep, exhaustion has won and he is snoring gently, still curled up against you as you watch him for a bit, feeling like you’re the one guarding his peace.

“You brought so many people home,” you whisper and craning your neck you press a kiss to the top of his head. “Now it’s time for you to go home and rest.”

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Happy Christmas Shana! May I ask for some Merlin and Arthur? Maybe the time travel Ygraine one, or something else entirely 🎁🎄🎅🏻

Queen Ygraine is cursed to die during childbirth and the baby is stolen from his very crib that same night.

Uther rages. The grief and the fury of losing them both leave him a broken man and a broken king. The grounds of Camelot turn to mud with all the blood he's spilled and the air turns grey and harsh from the burnings. He sends knights to every corner of his kingdom, but his son remains missing, not even a body to be found.

Tristan and Agravaine de Bois send letters, blaming Uther for their sister and nephew's death and proclaiming they are subjects of Uther's no more. It's a blip in torrent of grief - Uther can't even pretend to mourn the loss of his brothers in law in the face of that of his wife and son.

"I still think we should have killed him," Tristan says, watching the servants pack up the contents of their manor with a scowl.

"He would have killed you and then I'd be stuck doing this alone," Agravaine replies, a blond, blue eyed infant in his arms. "So our revenge will have to wait."

"Alone?" Nimueh scoffs. "Thanks. Is this not revenge enough?"

Tristan softens, reaching out to brush the back of his index finger against Arthur's chubby cheek. "He's not revenge. He's our nephew."

Agravaine briefly tightens his hold on the babe before relaxing. "Where are we going? I suppose Mercia is the obvious choice."

"That old man won't be able to help gloating to Uther and we don't want him giving us a second glance," Tristan says. "Cendred's kingdom is a better choice, I think. That's our where our grandfather's castle is anyway."

The two of them plus a sorceress should be more than compelling enough additions to his court for Cendred to relinquish it back to them. Or at least turn a blind eye when they take it back themselves.

~

Merlin is fourteen and standing by his mother's side, keeping his head down and not moving or thinking or looking or anything as the lords come to collect taxes.

No matter what they say, no matter what they do, he's not to move.

There's cries of pain from the smith as one of the lords kicks him down, shouting at him for how little they have. He's the most educated man in the village, he's the one that keeps track. He's the one that warns them how short they are.

They are especially short this year.

There's the sound of sword being unsheathed and Merlin resists the urge to bury his head in his mother's shoulder. He's not suppsosed to move.

"Oh, for goddess's sake," a new, young voice says. He doesn't sound that much older than Merlin. "This is a waste of time. If you cut off his head, will gold coins fall out?"

"We're here to collect taxes!" he insists.

The young lord scoffs. "And if we were sent to squeeze blood from a stone, how long would you spend with your hands pressing into bedrock? Look at them!"

"We can't just let them get away with it," he argues. "If you're father hears about this-"

"He'll hear about it because I'll tell him myself," he says, annoyed. "We could take everything they have and we'll still lose money when they starve to death and we have to send people to bury the bodies or risk disease settling in. The wages for those soldiers will cost far more than everything this little village has to offer."

"They're on our land, they pay the tax!"

The young lord's voice goes hard. "I think you'll see that they're on my father's land and it's ultimately his responsibility to collect taxes for the king. Which means this is decision, not yours."

"Yes, and he decided that-"

"Well I'm deciding differently and he can yell at me about it then!" he snaps. "Put your sword away before I draw mine."

There's a tense, heavy silence. Then there's the sound of a sword going back in its sheathe and, "Yes, Lord de Bois."

Lord de Bois sighs and then raises his voice so his voice carries travels to everyone standing there, to the whole village standing there and waiting. "I'll return within the week. If there's any sort of bookkeeping you have, gather it for me."

"Y-yes, my lord," the blacksmith stutters.

There's the sound of footsteps then hooves.

He lifts his head and only sees the back of the young Lord de Bois's blond head.

Merlin wonders if when he returns, he'll be allowed to look.

Hi hru 👋🏾

I have a request for Wednesday on Netflix maybe you could write xavier and the reader having a fight and then he suddenly kisses the reader. Only if you want

— ☆ THOSE FEW DAYS !

xavier thorpe x fem!reader

synopsis; you’re just concerned about your boyfriend’s issues but it leads to a terrible argument between you two yet you both still long for eachother.

warnings; none :)

taglist; lmk if u wanna be on it !

Ever since the arrival of Wednesday Addams in Nevermore and the unfortunate expulsion of Rowan, your boyfriend, Xavier Thorpe had been acting rather, unusual, to say the least.

Yes, he did lose his roommate and he was being tormented by frequent nightmares of a creature — it was enough to make one lose their sanity. Yet today, in particular, he was acting odd.

You noticed that today, he was feeling uncomfortable, bothered by the slightest conversation, as if he were scared. He also was making an attempt to cover his neck either with his collar or hands. You observed that the reason as to why he was hiding his neck was due to the large red scars that were planted on it — worst of all, they were fresh. They looked as if a creature had attacked his neck as it appeared that maybe claws were the cause of it.

You overheard him informing Wednesday that the scars were due to fencing class yet you knew him better than anyone — he wasn’t that careless to get injured so terribly in fencing. It was probably due to another cause.

Eventhough, deep down you knew you shouldn't inquire him about his latest injury something had urged you to question him about it. You wanted to know why he looked and felt so terrified. After all, you were his girlfriend, shouldn't you have a right to know?

Reluctantly, you made your way to his art studio which was an old shed he had cleaned out. You knew he was in it due to the slow hum of the music you could hear from the outside and the small light rays that penetrated out of the shed's windows.

Xavier would visit the shed whenever he was in distress. Lately, he'd been visiting it quite often as he was tortured by all his horrifying dreams and the events occurring in Jericho. The rumours of the creature in the woods weren't helping either.

One, two, three. You knocked thrice onto the door, patiently waiting for the man inside to let you in. After a few moments on waiting, the door finally opened to reveal an anger-stricken Xavier, who leaned against the doorway of the shed.

His palms were coloured in different shades of blue and red, indicating that he was painting. Whereas his eyes were both avoidant of your gaze. He kept glancing at his shoes, not even bothering to greet you — other times, he'd let you in, showing off anything new he had painted.

You broke off the awkward silence with a small cough, 'can I come in?' you lightly asked as you attempted to smile at him. Still not meeting your eyes, he replied with a simple 'sure,' and moved out of the way so that you could enter.

You looked around and were horrified at the sight of the inside of the shed. Nearly every corner was filled with sketches, drawings and paintings of the creature - some scribbled messily while others were decorated in detail. You now knew that his nightmares were only getting worse even with his multiple therapy sessions, he still wasn't getting any better.

'So what do you want?' Xavier asked with no emotion. You turned to look at him after finally tearing your eyes away from the gnarly pictures he had drawn. 'I just wanted to check up on you, see how you're feeling,' you replied, 'I noticed your scars and I wanted to ask you...' you trailed off, unsure of how to continue since you noticed that his expression hardened.

'Why? So you could blame me for all the murders?' he snapped. You had no idea what Xavier could possibly mean by that statement. Did someone blame him? Was that he was feeling so sour?

'No, I don't blame you at all and you know that. I was just here to check up on you and-' before you could finish, you were cut off by Xavier: 'well, I don't need you checking up on me, I'm perfectly fine. Stop pretending like you ever actually cared,' he shouted.

All the worry you had about him left you immediately, you yelled back at him as he yelled at you. You both were shouting back and forth, throwing cruel words at eachother. Until, you had had enough. Your eyes and cheeks were now stained with tears, your lips were bleeding due to you biting them aggressively and you wanted nothing more than to leave.

His harsh words were enough for you to finally leave his shed, filled with rage and sadness. Clearly, he was not feeling alright and took out his anger on you. You were just trying to check up on him, what could've caused him to feel like this?

To be honest, you were angry at him, terribly angry. You stormed into your room, trying to block off any thoughts you had about him. Yet you couldn't since no matter how foolish he acted, you still liked him.

Rave'N was suppose to be a fun and eventful night for any outcast. Well, any outcast except for you. Ever since your argument with Xavier, you didn't bother talking to him, even when he attempted to apologise to you.

You went with your friend and roommate, Yoko and instead of moping over Xavier, you decided to actually enjoy yourself. It was a party after all, you were suppose to enjoy yourself here. The drinks and loud music were finally making you forget all about Xavier.

After a couple of drinks and a few dances with Yoko, you were finally exhausting yourself. Tearing away from Yoko and the dance floor, you finally sat down on a table you presumed to be empty to rest a bit before going back.

'I see you're enjoying yourself here,' a familiar yet unexpecting voice called — the last voice you wanted to hear right now. Sighing, you turned to look at the unwelcomed face of Xavier. You raised your brow, 'So? It's a party,' you replied, not even bothering to pay attention to him.

'Hey listen...' he began as he sat himself next to you. You knew what to expect, for the past few days, Xavier had been attempting to apologise to you for his harsh words yet you didn't bother listening to any of his apologies; most of the time, Yoko would just tell him to leave.

You sighed and turned to look at him, 'you've told me that same apology multiple times but you have to realise that I was really hurt by your words... I was just worried.' This was probably the longest conversation you both had this entire week.

'Xavier, I understand you were hurting back then but I just kinda wished you ta—‘ before you could finish your statement, you got interrupted by a pair of lips on yours.

It was a surprised gesture but you reciprocated it almost immediately; you missed this so much. You’d never admit it but you really did miss Xavier loads. Just by kissing him, all the events of the past few days were lost; you just wanted to be with him.

Once you two pulled apart, Xavier looked at his shoes, avoiding your gaze again — it looked as if he was embarrassed of his actions.

‘I’m really sorry about that, y/n. I shouldn’t have done that,’ he stated apologetically. Deep down, Xavier longed for things to go back to the way they were. He felt upset and he missed you so much.

‘Hey, it’s alright. I’m kinda over it besides, you were just on edge back then; we both said things that we regretted. I understand,’ you gently spoke. Xavier looked at you with hopeful eyes yet he didn’t utter a single word.

The last thing Xavier expected you to do was stand up and offer your hand to his, inviting him onto the dance floor.

‘Come on,’ you said as you happily dragged him to the dance floor.

CANDY CANE KISSES — TREVOR ZEGRAS

trevor zegras x fem!reader

12 DAYS OF KINKMAS

summary: in which Trevor has a unique use for all the candy canes y/n buys

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, nipple play, food play, p in v (unprotected), i think that’s all? (3.2k words)

notes: welcome to day 2 of the 12 days of kinkmas! this was my first time writing smut for trevor and i won’t lie; it was hard!

“this is getting out of hand.”

my eyes fly up to the kitchen entrance, Trevor’s tall frame looming in the doorway. his golden brown hair is tousled as though he’s just woken up, yet i know he’s been awake for hours.

“i didn’t think you were home yet.” i murmur, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights, and my fiancé chuckles as he steps fully into the kitchen.

“i’ve been home for an hour, i was about to call and ask where you were-” his eyes flicker to the shopping bag that rests on the counter before he looks back at me with a raised brow. “but i guess now i know.”

i externally cringe, my mind racing as i try and come up with an excuse.

“i- okay- hear me out!” my hand floats in the air in front of my chest, in attempt to keep him from chastising me.

“oh, i’d love to hear this excuse.” Trevor smirks, sidling over to lean back against the counter. his hands grip the countertop behind him and for a moment my eyes linger there, tracing the veins that lead up to his tattooed arm, until i regain consciousness and remember what i was doing.

“they were buy one get one free! and there’s so many different flavors!”

Trevor’s head tips back, chin towards the ceiling as he lets out a groan.

“baby, you have ten boxes of candy canes in our cupboards!” he states, hand flying up as though to dramatically display our kitchen cupboards.

“twelve.” i mumble, my voice low as i stare at the ground.

“twelve?!” he steps forward, arms winding around my waist as he blocks my view of our tile floor. “look at me, please.”

his soft tone draws my head up, looking into his blue eyes as i exaggerate a pout.

“no more candy canes.” he emphasizes each word, “please!”

i nod solemnly before resting my chin on his chest, giving him the best puppy dog eyes i can muster.

“how many boxes did you buy today?” Trevor questions, bowing his head down to drop his forehead to mine.

“four.” i whisper, the lower half of my face rising to chase his lips. my nose accidentally brushes against his and he repeats the action with intent.

“that’s too many, babe.” he urges, “no more.”

my lips part but i get no word out before he reads my mind, answering my question.

“not even after christmas when they’re discounted.”

i huff in exaggerated disappointment, stepping away from my fiancé to pull the boxes of hard candy from the grocery bag on the granite countertop.

i’m mostly silent as i do so, except for the hyperbolic sigh that passes my lips, my sight flickering to Trevor every few seconds. he bites back a grin, hopping up to sit on the counter across from me before he speaks.

“alright,” he drags out, clicking his tongue against his teeth before he adds- “what flavors did ya get?”

i perk up, the corners of my lips quirking up.

“i got warhead, jolly rancher, sour patch kid, and mint chocolate!” i sing out, holding up each one as i tell him.

“they sound delicious, babe.”

i internally cheer at his approval as i open the candy cupboard, stuffing the four boxes anywhere i can fit them. i take a mental note of the few missing candy canes from a box of original peppermint flavor, taking pride in knowing Trevor has at least indulged in a couple of my holiday obsession.

“can we watch a movie?” i ask, pushing the cupboard closed while i spin around to face my fiancé.

“is it a christmas movie?”

“yes…”

“is it a hallmark movie?” he inquires cautiously, eyes narrowed towards me.

“it doesn’t have to be.” i shrug, shoving the plastic grocery bag under the sink with the others.

“then yes.”

***

Trevor’s t-shirt hangs around my body, the hem tickling my upper thigh, and fuzzy socks adorn my feet.

we ate dinner and watched two more movies before calling it a night, and now i stand at our bathroom counter washing my face and waiting for my fiancé to come upstairs.

i can hear his footsteps entering on the tile floor of our bathroom as i cup my hands under the faucet, filling them with water and washing the cleanser from my face.

i’m drying my face when his arms encircle my waist, his chin coming down to rest on my shoulder.

“hi, beautiful.” his voice is gruff and i can sense a hint of lust that makes me chuckle.

“hi, baby.” i set the towel back down on the counter, opening my eyes to our reflections staring back at me.

meeting his eyes in the mirror, my hands come down to rub soothingly along his arms. his grip relaxes, loosening around me for a moment before spinning me in his arms.

the small of my back hits against the counter, his hands smacking onto it on either side of me, caging me in.

“whatcha doing?” i giggle. my own hands find his chest, smoothing up to lock around the back of his neck.

“looking at my gorgeous future wife.” his response makes me hum, his face lowering towards mine before he speaks again, this time lower, “thinking about how much i wanna fuck her right here in front of this mirror. how sexy she would look; watching as i make her come on my cock.”

his words ignite a pulse between my legs, my breathing picking up just slightly.

“oh yeah?” i bite my lip, angling my hips to press against his.

“mhm.” he hums, bending down just a bit more so his lips brush against mine, and my heart skips a beat in excitement. “but, that’ll have to happen another time.”

my mood deflates as he steps away, backing away towards the doorway to our bedroom.

“oh.” my shoulders sag, my lips flattening into a straight line, and i watch him stop at the doorway.

“well, c’mon.” he urges, crooking his finger at me. “i have plans for you.”

the corner of his mouth quirks up in a smirk and i bite back a giddy smile as i follow him into our bedroom. his hands reach out to pull at my hips, his fingers digging into my skin through the thin fabric of his shirt, and he doesn’t stop until i’m flush against him.

“i had an idea-”

“oh that’s never good.” he rolls his eyes at my interruption, but a smile still tugs at his lips.

“shh, i think you’ll like it.”

his lips meet mine, our noses bumping in the movement, and my lips instinctively part, making way for his tongue to dart into my mouth and tangle with my own.

one hand sliding up to curl around and rest at the base of my neck, he groans when mine give a light tug to his locks. his hips jerk against mine, coaxing a hushed moan from deep within my throat and into his mouth.

he pulls away, looking into my eyes, his own darkened with lust, before he turns and walks away, leaving me breathless and needy.

“what-” i’m cut off with a hurried shush, my lips almost unconsciously falling shut.

“naked and on the bed.” his broken sentence echoes through my mind once, twice, three times before i register his command. making quick work as he walks out of the bedroom.

my fuzzy socks are easily slipped off my feet, panties dragged down my thighs, before finally, i pull the oversized t-shirt over my head, letting the various fabrics mingle together in a pile on the floor.

my movements are clumsy and hastened as i clamber onto the bed, sitting pretty on my knees atop the mattress.

Trevor returns with a cup in his hands, piquing my interest, but when i begin to rise in order to see over the top of the cup, i’m shut down by a single lifted eyebrow.

i heave out a sigh, falling back down to the mattress with a dejected pout.

“thought of a way to put your new fixation to use.” he hums, setting the cup on the nightstand, and it’s then that i spot what’s inside.

the cup is filled with ice, and nestled just inside, buried within the ice, is a single unwrapped peppermint candy cane.

“i’m confused.” i voice, brows furrowed.

“just sit down and close your eyes.”

i do as he says, shifting so my legs hang off the edge of the mattress, my ass now sitting on the blanket. closing my eyes, i lean back on my hands, full trust in the man that i’ll be vowing forever to in just a few short months.

time ticks idly by with nothing happening, and i’m almost beginning to wonder if Trevor has left me alone when i finally feel his hot breath hovering over my nipple.

shivers erupt through my body, goosebumps littering my flesh in their wake, and my head falls back as his lips close around the stiffened bud. his tongue swirls around it, eliciting a choked sound from my lips, and i can feel him smirk against my breast.

he pulls back, sucking my nipple with him between his lips before letting it go with a pop, and my hips involuntarily jerk on the bed at his retreat, a whimper echoing in the silence.

i’m rewarded with a gentle shush, simultaneously combined with an icy cold substance being dragged around my nipple. my back arches, breasts pushed forward as i gasp.

my eyes fly open, darting down to find the source of the chill and discovering my fiancé on his knees, the previously ice-bound candy cane in his grasp, leaving a cold sticky trail along my nipple.

“T-Trevor.” i stutter out. his eyes flick up to mine, a smirk resting on his lips as he pulls the candy cane away, replacing it with his open mouth.

i curse, my arms shaking behind me as my eyes roll back. his tongue explores every detail of the hard peak in his mouth, suckling as his free hand finds my other breast, roughly pinching the nipple, before trailing the cold candy cane around that one.

my hips grind against mattress with every flick of his tongue, and when he switches his heated mouth to the other breast, he moans against it, the vibrations against my nipple causing a full body jerk.

“Trevor, please.” i plead. for what? i’m unsure, but he seems to know; he pulls back, rolling my nipple between his lips before letting it go.

his hand comes to rest on my sternum, slowly pushing me until my back lays against the soft bedding. he swirls the candy around my breasts, stickiness coating my skin, before i can hear the clink of the candy cane being shoved back into the ice.

he rises, hovering over my body before dipping down, sucking at the sticky candy trails of his own doing.

my hips buck up against his, urging him to hold them against the mattress as he continues sucking across my chest. his lips drag along the sticky residue, his tongue darting out to lick across my nipple.

my breath catches in my throat as i can feel the early signs of my orgasm building in my stomach, but i’m left gasping for air as it fades away, Trevor’s mouth parting from my heated skin in order for him to pull the candy cane back from the ice cup.

my abdomen clenches as the candy cane makes contact, being dragged down down my stomach from my sternum. Trevor hovers above me with a mischievous smirk, taking pride in the way my body writhes underneath him.

when he finally puts the frozen candy away, his tongue drags down my body, his eyes locked into mine, glaring up at me with heated fervor.

as my body tenses under his tongue, a whimper draws from my slackened jaw, my fingers tangling into his hair and giving a harsh tug.

he groans against me, vibrations carrying over my tight muscles and sending chills down my spine, but his movement doesn’t falter; instead, he trails down even further, pressing short kisses to my hip bones and along my waistline.

“Trev-” my voice shakes, coming out in breathy quivers as he dips lower, his hot breath hitting against my dripping core.

“what do you want, baby?” his gentle pet name is an extreme contrast to the harsh tone of his voice.

“you,” i grapple with his shirt, tugging him up until his face is above mine, his nose drags up my jawline, my eyes fluttering closed, “god- i need you.”

“you’ve got me, baby.” i can practically hear his smile, the mocking lilt in his tone.

“inside me,” i clarify, my head falling back to dig deeper into the soft bedding as his soft lips attach to my neck. “i need you inside me.”

he pulls away, my eyes flying open at the sudden departure, “oh, you need my cock.”

his hands grip my hips, pulling me forward as he grinds against my core, a sharp inward gasp falling from my lips.

“you want this cock buried so deep inside that pretty pussy, don’t you?” Trevor hums, a mocking smirk resting on his lips when i whine out an agreement. “yeah, you want it so bad that you’re fucking dripping. so wet for me.”

“yes, yes,” i pant out, hips bucking up in search of his hardened bulge, “all for you.”

he snickers as he steps back, my lower body falling back against the mattress and a long complaining whine leaving me. i watch in ernest as his hands drop to the button of his jeans, undoing them and pushing them down his legs along with his boxers, putting his muscular thighs on full display. his erection springs free, nearly slapping against his clothed abdomen, and my thighs press together at the sight of his reddened tip, glistening with precum.

he grins at my reaction, his eyes zeroing in on my clenched thighs as he pulls his shirt over his head.

“open those thighs for me, pretty girl.” his hands smooth up my legs, prying them apart until they’re wide open, my cunt on display for his viewing.

“look at that pretty pussy,” my body jolts as his fingers do a quick swipe through my soaked folds, a broken moan pouring through my lips.

“please,” i mewl, “i need you you to fuck me.”

his hands wander my body, sliding up to cup my breasts as he stands between my open thighs.

“yeah?” he cocks his head, wrapping a hand around the base of his length. he drags it slowly through my folds, applying added pressure when he reaches my clit.

my back arches, my chest heaving as he slides his dick back down to my entrance.

“yes! please!” my cries bounce off the walls as he slides in, each inch slowly being swallowed by my walls.

he groans, head tipping back as he bottoms out inside of me. he stills, allowing me a moment to adjust, before pulling completely out and thrusting back in.

the position provides the perfect angle, the tip of his cock hitting against my g-spot with every thrust. my body wriggles underneath him, his hands making a home on my hips, gripping tightly enough that i’m sure bruises will form overnight.

“Trevor.” i breathe out, my hands coming up to lock around the back of his neck. i pull him down, lips connecting in a passionate exchange, and when he pulls away, i line kisses up his jaw.

each kiss is jilted by a sensual moan; finally reaching the shell of his ear, he thrusts in particularly hard, a high pitched gasp erupting from my lips that ghost his ear, and i can feel his cheek lift against mine in a cocky grin.

“you wanna come, don’t you, baby?” he speaks through strained vocal chords, his thrusts gaining momentum and his hips slapping against mine harshly.

“mhm.” i nod against him, my agreement hummed against his skin.

“yeah, i know you do.” he pulls his face away in order to stand up taller, pulling my hips off the mattress to provide a deeper angle. “dirty little slut wants to make a mess on my cock.”

my eyes roll back in my head, my hands gripping the sheets as he his cock slams against the soft spongey spot that makes my legs shake.

i can feel my orgasm building up once more, my abdomen tightening. his hand slides down to smack against my ass, the resounding sound enough to make him moan, before sliding around to press his thumb to my clit.

one hand flies up to grip his forearm shakily, my hips jerking to meet his, and the squelch of his cock sliding in and out of my cunt throws me deeper into the throes of my impending climax.

my head is fuzzy, tears pooling in my eyes, and my body aching with need for release. broken sobs begin to shake my body, his thumb rubbing deep circles against my swollen bud.

“so close,” i cry, “please don’t stop! please!”

“not gonna stop, baby.” he whispers, “you’ve been such a good girl. wish you could see yourself, all pretty and fucked out for me.”

my walls tighten around him, sweat beading at my hairline as i get closer and closer to release.

“cum for me, baby.” he demands. his cock twitches inside of me, thrusts growing sloppy with each passing second.

with one more circle of my puffy clit, my breath hitches, my body stiffening but my legs shaking as my toes curl.

he fucks into me, riding me through my orgasm until i begin to breathe heavy pants, my hips squirming in his touch.

his hips stutter, his movements growing desperate until he falters, stilling between my legs as his cum spurts out in ropes, coating my walls, “shit, fuck.”

he stays buried inside of me, standing in silence as we each catch up on forgotten breaths.

“i’m sticky.” i sigh, causing his eyes to open in order to look at the glistening candy cane residue on my upper body.

“would ya look at that,” he slides out of me, chuckling while bending down to scoop his arms under my back. he lifts me with an ease that i couldn’t imagine myself having after the activity we just partook in.

my breasts stick to his chest as he walks me to the bathroom lazily. grinning, he sets me down on the edge of the bathtub, my skin peeling away from his with a satisfying sound.

“how does a bath sound?”

“sounds like a lot of extra work after i already washed my face, you asshole.” i joke, kicking a foot at his bare thigh.

he let’s out a wheezy laugh as he turns on the hot bath water before turning back to me, his hands pushing sweaty locks of hair out of my face before gently cupping my cheeks.

“you’re so beautiful,” his words cause a rush of blood towards my cheeks, my hands coming up to rest on his forearms.

“shhh bath first. and then tell me how pretty i am,” he laughs once more, shaking his head.

“have i ever told you how conceited you are?” he hums, crinkling his nose as he lowers to press a kiss to my forehead.

“you love it.” i shrug, puckering my lips for a real kiss.

he squats lower, nose nudging against mine, “yeah, i do.”

Riding Shotgun || CL14 & PG10 {1}

Pairing: boyfriend!Charles Leclerc x fem!reader x ex!Pierre Gasly Summary: A trip away with your boyfriend takes a turn when your ex comes along. Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, mentions of historical cheating, unprotected sex, voyeur/exhibition kink. WC: 1.9k F1 Masterlist || one || two

Charles’ Ferrari pulled up outside his apartment just as you stepped outside with the overnight bag he had asked you to pack. The excited smile on your face hadn’t wavered since he promised to take you away for the night, just the two of you. So much of his time at home this trip has been spent with others, like going to the tennis open or some photoshoot, that he wanted to treat you to something special. 

But as the passenger door swung open you saw he wasn’t alone. 

“Oh, hey Pierre,” you greeted your ex who was sitting in your seat before lifting a questioning eyebrow to your boyfriend behind the steering wheel. “What are you doing here?”

“I hope you don’t mind, when Charles said he was going to Milan I thought I might catch a ride,” Pierre said as jumped out and took your bag to the boot.

“Should I call a taxi?” you asked as Pierre sat back in the passenger seat.

“You can sit on his lap,” Charles offered with a nod in Pierre's direction, “it’s not that far to the airport.”

“You want me to sit on my ex-boyfriend's lap for half an hour,” you stated, hoping he would pick up on the strangeness of the set up but he seemed oblivious. “Why doesn’t Pierre just drive?”

“No one drives my Pista,” he scoffed, like what you had said was absurd and not what he had. “Just get in or we’ll be late.”

You looked back at the apartment but knew you weren’t going to miss out on a night away with Charles so you took a steadying breath and climbed into the car. 

You had forgotten how muscular Pierre was until you sat on his lap, not that Charles wasn’t, but Pierre took more interest in bulking up when he went to the gym. It made for a very uncomfortable seat in a car built for luxury.

“Stop squirming,” Pierre muttered in your ear as you shifted once again.

“You’re not exactly soft.”

His large hands gripped your hips and planted you firmly in one spot as Charles left the city and started the ascent through the winding mountain road to Nice. 

“Charles, slow down,” you warned as you grabbed the handle above the door and the dash. 

Without a seatbelt you were rocking side to side with each corner and Pierre had wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you from jolting forward whenever Charles broke into the tight corners. Attempting to stabilise you further, Pierre widened his legs but the movement caused your jeans to pull tight as he forced your thighs apart and the seam pressed into a very sensitive spot.

Charles didn’t hear your sharp intake of breath over the music that was playing but Pierre did and a quiet chuckle teased your ear. 

“Everything alright, princess?”

His words were mocking, the title one you had been given since going public with the ‘people’s prince of Monaco’. 

“Fine,” you bit back sharply before Charles took another corner quickly and the seam of your jeans rubbed over your clit, a small unexpected moan escaping at the sensation. You froze at the sound and became hyper aware of everything happening in the car; from Charles pressing the volume up on the steering console to the length growing hard beneath you. 

“You don’t sound fine,” he teased, his hands slipping lower down your waist. “You sound…needy. Does Charles not satisfy you like I did?”

Your fist clenched around the handle as you fought the urge to drop your elbow on his head but that would certainly draw Charles’ attention to the situation you had found yourself in.

“Shut up, Pierre,” you whispered angrily under your breath.

“You didn’t deny it,” he pointed out. 

You shifted to your side so you could see his face when you spoke to him. “Charles not only satisfies me, but he satisfies only me and doesn’t fuck with every woman that bats her eyelashes his way.”

“We established I was a shit boyfriend, but he could never make you come like I can.”

“This also makes you a really shit friend. What happens if I turn the other way and tell him about this?”

Pierre smirked and leaned closer. “Go on, princess, I dare you.”

“Charles?” You called his bluff and turned the music down, your boyfriend’s eyes  darting over for a moment before returning to the road. “Pierre has an erection.”

Pierre choked on a laugh as he dropped the pretence of holding you in place and let his hands fall naturally between your legs. “And Y/N is about three corners away from an orgasm.”

His fingers pressed over the seam of your jeans and the breath you had been taking to yell at him shuddered in your chest at the touch, the shiver a betrayal of your body. You grabbed Pierre’s hands to pull them away but he was far stronger and when you looked at Charles for help you expected to find anger in his eyes.

“I know your fantasies, princess,” Pierre smirked and looked over at his friend as his fingers teased over the denim between your legs, “you don’t have to be shy. Has Charles told you his yet?” His stubble tickled your neck as his lips brushed behind your ear and he whispered, “Before you two got together he would get off on the stories of us fucking.”

Your resistance faltered as your stomach flipped and you peered over to Charles who was biting his lip and stealing every glance he could as he drove, his eyes focused on Pierre’s hands between your legs and his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. You dragged your eyes down his body and saw his jeans barely containing the evidence of his arousal.

“You always wanted to have someone watch us, someone we could trust,” Pierre continued, announcing your secret to the car as one hand snaked up your body and gently wrapped around the base of your throat. “Now you can.”

“You’re insane,” you rasped breathlessly but it had nothing to do with the hold he had.

“Am I?” he chuckled as he flipped the sunvisor down and opened the mirror so you could see your face, your pupils blown out with desire. He reached for your jeans and popped the button before dragging the zip down slowly but you didn’t fight him. “Didn’t think so.”

Charles pulled over into the road shoulder overlooking the French Riviera and turned the car off. “You were meant to wait until the hotel,” he said as he palmed his erection. 

“It’s hard to keep my hands to myself when she’s grinding on my fucking dick, Cha.”

“You planned this.” You felt stupid as you realised it. The feeling quickly passed when Pierre’s hand slipped beneath your panties and he felt how wet you were for him as he started to fuck you with two fingers.

“Fuck,” Pierre growled with the husky tone that came out whenever he was about to lose control and you trembled in anticipation. “Get these off, now.”

You shoved your jeans down your legs and he lifted your hips up so he could free himself from his own before pulling you back down on his lap. A cry filled the car as he stretched your cunt and you revelled in the burn that danced the thin line between pleasure and pain.

“Cristo,” Charles moaned as his hand disappeared into his jeans and he watched you bounce on his friend's cock. “Come sei bella.”

Pierre grazed his teeth over your racing pulse before sealing his lips over your skin and leaving his mark while his middle finger found your clit.

“Do you like seeing another man fucking me?” you asked Charles as stroked his cock, the swollen head weeping with precum as he tightened his fist around it. “Do you like being cuckolded?”

“Mon Dieu, oui,” he moaned and your cunt clenched in response.

“I’m not going last when you do that, princess,” Pierre growled in your ear and your body heated at the look he gave you in the small mirror.

The atmosphere intensified as the sounds in the car grew louder and you planted your hands on the dashboard so you could rock your hips against Pierre. The shift in angles hit that perfect spot that sent stars dancing across your vision and your head fell back with the ecstasy that washed over you.

“Fuck, she feels so good,” your ex said to your boyfriend as he felt your orgasm rippling around him. His grip on your hips tightened as he guided you even faster before slamming you down on him and holding you there, filling you with his release and igniting another aftershock of pleasure.

Charles groaned at the sight of you sagging back into Pierre’s embrace as you basked in the afterglow and his cock pulsed in his hand with thick ropes of cum spilling over his fist.

Pierre tipped his head back into the headrest as he regained his breath and his fingers drew small designs over your thighs. “You’re a lucky man, Cha.”

“You had your chance.” You whimpered at the emptiness as you shifted off Pierre’s lap and pulled your jeans back up.

“Maybe we can come to some other arrangement,” Pierre suggested. “We both know I’m not boyfriend material, that’s all Charles, but you have to admit this felt good.”

The high you had been riding faded and reality set in as you looked at Charles. “Is this what you want?”

“I think it’s safe to say we all enjoyed it,” he noted as he found a napkin in a cup holder and started to clean up the mess on his hand and you giggled at the statement.

“Yeah, but it’s a recipe for disaster. Fuckboy’s don’t belong in relationships.”

“I agree,” Pierre chuckled as he tucked himself away and zipped his jeans up. “That’s not really what we had planned.”

“If you were comfortable of course,” Charles confirmed.

“I told him about your exhibition kink,” Pierre said with a smirk. “Turns out he’s a bit of a voyeur and likes to watch. And, well, I like to fuck. So whenever you want, I’m up for giving a little show. What are friends for?”

You chewed your lip at the thought of the arrangement, the idea making your skin heat once again. “And what if I want more than a show?”

Both men sat up a little straighter and Charles ran his thumb over his bottom lip. “Like what, cherie?”

Shyness had you looking away from his green eyes and you watched the sea way down the bottom of the mountain instead. “What if I wanted both of you, at the same time?”

Pierre’s chest pushed against you as it puffed with a sharp intake of air and he looked at Charles for an answer. Everyone knew Pierre was up for nearly anything but you had thought Charles was more conservative until today and you weren’t sure what his answer would be, or if you had in fact just ruined not only your relationship but their friendship too.

“I’m okay with that,” Charles said, his throat bobbing with the deep swallow he took. “Pierre?”

“Get us to Milan, Charles,” he replied. “Your car is too small for that.”

Click here for part two.

F1 Tagging: @91vhs @alwaysclassyeagle @applespiez @ravenqueen27 @booksobsess @tempo-rary-fix @baw-sixteen @im-an-overthinker @notleclerc

A/N: please let me know if you want to be tagged in all of my F1 fics 💕

Not Exactly Cinderella Part 1

WC: 1350

CW: mildy raunchy talk

Dick/Danny/Wally

Wally still didn’t really get why Dick hated galas so much. The outfits were a little stuffy, but Dick always looked amazing in them and these days he found ways to have fun with the looks. The people could be stuck up, sure, but there were always lots of Waynes and other supes to talk to. And the galas could drag on a little, but Dick was amazing at finding dark corners to duck into and make out in.

The worst part, really, was the photos going in. That was mostly because Wally felt so utterly inadequate standing next to Dick, but he doubted Dick had any issue with that part. Still, every time that Dick begged Wally to come along with him to one, he acted as if he was going to his execution. For a guy who fought crime and had literately been at his own attempted executions before, it felt a little extreme.

“You know, we could still have the driver turn around,” Dick suggested hopefully.

“Put those baby blues away because we really, really cannot,” Wally said, but he softened his words by reaching out to twist their fingers together. “You have to be at this one, babe. Part of what they’re trying to raise funds for is your idea.”

Dick groaned and let his head fall back against the the black leather seat. It made Wally want to lean over and kiss along that length of neck as beautifully highlighted by the passing neon lights as it was, but he managed to resist. Dick really shouldn’t be marked up before photos.

(Which was a shame.)

“Hey, I’m with you at least?” Wally offered. He knew it was paltry compensation, but it was at least something.

“You are. Thanks for coming,” Dick said. He lifted their hands to press a kiss to the back of Wally’s hand. “I know—”

“Hey, I’ve said it lots before. I don’t mind coming to the galas with you at all. Where else am I going to get to eat so many tiny foods?”

“Tiny food is overrated.”

“It’s the best.”

“Speedsters,” Dick said, rolling his eyes.

Wally elbowed Dick for saying ‘speedsters’, even if the driver wasn’t supposed to be able to hear them right then. Dick, of course, was completely unrepentant and just stole a quick kiss instead as the car rolled to a stop.

Dick took a deep breath. “Okay, time to look pretty, Wally.”

Wally’s ‘easy for you to say’ was lost to the sounds of flashing cameras and shouted questions as the door opened and Dick stepped out. Wally tamped down the urge to fidget and took Dick’s hand, joining him in the lights and noise.

-

For the most part, Wally was glad that he wasn’t expected to contribute to the conversations as they made their rounds at the gala. He got the basic ‘how are you’ or ‘so what is it you do’, but really no one wanted to know, not unless he ran into other scientists. Wally knew he could be a bit… much to talk to, so he let Dick lead for all the important conversation. Wally figured he could slip off to talk to the other nerds later, if they were around, but he’d stick by Dick for the first part at least. This obligation would probably wind down soon, even those coming in fashionably late had arrived by now.

Wally scanned the crowd as they headed up to the second floor to make sure they had caught everyone they needed to. Ah, there were some people he recognized from WE Research, as well as some new faces. They looked like they were having a good time. The group laughed and one of the people Wally didn’t know, turned with the act and looked over the crowd too. For just a moment his eyes and Wally’s caught.

His smile was brilliant.

Suddenly Wally found himself tipping forward, toe caught on the step. Only Dick’s quick reaction time saved Wally’s face from meeting the marble.

“Shit, Wally, you okay?” Dick asked, clutching Wally tightly to him.

Wally buried his blushing red face into Dick’s shoulder. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” Dick said, drawing the word out. He guided Wally upstairs and into one of those dark corners, not taking his bracing hand off Wally’s back. Voice quiet, he asked, “Is it something from the… work issue earlier today?”

“No,” Wally said, but his word was muffled by the his hands pressed over his warm face. “I didn’t get hurt.”

“Okay,” Dick said again.

“Stop saying okay. It’s nothing. I’m just being… ugh.”

“Walls, sweetheart,” Dick pried Wally’s hands away from his face, holding them gently, “you’re worrying me a little here.”

Wally sighed. “I tripped because a cute guy smiled in my direction, alright?”

“What?” Dick asked. He covered his laughter with their clasped hands.

“I tripped because I’m an idiot and got flustered when a cute guy smiled my way.”

Dick pouted, still snickering. “You’ve never tripped up because of my smile.”

Wally just stared at Dick.

“What?”

He couldn’t believe it. “Do you really not know how many walls I ran into because of your smile, Dick?”

“No.” Dick was grinning now, bright and wonderful. “Give me a number here. Ten? Twenty?”

“So many, Dick, so many. So no getting jealous, you’re still way in the lead.”

Dick sobered instantly. He reached out and caught Wally’s wrist again, running his fingers along that too fast Speedster’s pulse. “Hey, no, you think I’m being jealous?”

Wally just shrugged. He did and he didn’t. He really didn’t know what to think. He didn’t think Dick was the jealous type, but it hadn’t exactly been put to the test. When this thing between them had turned from fooling around into something more they had agreed on an open relationship and worked out the details. And Wally would talk about someone being hot, sure, but they were always someone unobtainable. It’s Dick who had actually gone out and dated, or at least slept with, other people.

“Oh sweetheart, no,” Dick murmured, closing the distance between them to nothing. “I was just teasing. I think it’s adorable that his smile made you stumble— and at a ball too! That’s some real fairy tale stuff right there.”

“Okay, but fairy tales usually ended pretty horrifically,” Wally pointed out, though he could feel his own smile tugging at his lips.

Dick rolled his eyes. “Alright, a Disney style fairy tale then.”

Wally’s nose wrinkled. “Too wholesome.”

“Picky, picky, picky. An adult film knock off of a Disney story?”

“Dick!” Wally laughed and gave the other a little shove. The bastard didn’t even budge.

“Sorry,” Dick said without sounding sorry at all. “Come on, let’s go talk to him.”

“What?!” Wally squawked. “No! Dick, no, why?”

“Because you thought he was cute. It can’t hurt.”

“Yes it can! He’ll talk to me and…”

“Walls?”

Wally looked down at their feet, scuffing his banged up toe around. “He’ll, I don’t know, get bored of me? Or at least it won’t go anywhere.”

Dick ducked down so he could see Wally’s eyes. “Hey, no, sweetheart, why do you think that? You’re a catch.”

“I’m pretty sure only you think that,” Wally said.

“Lies,” Dick said, giving Wally a peck. “I’ll prove it. Come on, let me be your ‘wing man.”

Wally snorted at that.

“You know I’m a great ‘wing.”

“You are,” Wally said, unable to help the fond smile.

“Then come on. I know all your virtues, including how good you are at blow jobs. Let me extol them.”

“Dick! You are not telling a stranger I’m good at blow jobs!” Wally hissed.

“But you are.”

“Yeah, I am, aren’t I?”

Dick backed up, tugging Wally out of the nook. “We’ll do a quick pass up here and then go find him. See if we can’t get you lucky.”

“I was supposed to get lucky with you tonight,” Wally reminded him.

Dick just shrugged, still smiling. “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. I’ll still be around after you have some fun.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

--

AN: So I didn't really have anything else that fit Tooth-Rotting Tuesday in my current wips (not where they were at least) and somehow this got in my brain soooo.... hopefully you enjoyed it?

I love how gung-ho Dick is about getting his boyfriend laid. His plan is to get them started flirting and then just slip away. But will he be able to pull that off?

Sorry for any mistakes. A pressure migraine on top of my other migraine rolled in with the front yesterday so I am KOed.

Stay delightful darlings!

♡ 𝟗:𝟑𝟖𝐚𝐦 𝐰/ 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐚 & 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

@eustasssimp asked: okay so I just had to based on our recent conversations but FIRST!!! THANK YOU FOR REOPENING YOUR INBOX!!!!! your writing is such a gift and I am so excited to see what people request 💛 I hope you can have lots of fun with it could I please request some sfw Madara and just spending a lazy relaxed day at home with him? grumpy man needs to RELAX (I haven’t requested in so long I am desperately trying to remember how to do this lmao) thank you so much dearest Lale I hope you are able to have a good time and take it easy with the requests you get coming in 🤍

a/n: first time writing for this fine gentleman eep! thank you so much for your request, Lem! this was so much fun to write (though it did take a slightly different turn than i expected and somehow Hashirama makes a guest appearance oops)

word count: 1k

Your morning starts like it always does: Tangled.

Black hair is spilled all over the shared futon, getting in your eyes while you’re slowly blinking awake. You try to stretch your limbs but hear a disgruntled noise in your ear in return, a low and raspy voice muttering your name, while strong arms (and a leg thrown over your lower half) pull you closer. You laugh quietly against your partner’s chest, hearing his heart beating slow and steady next to you. 

“You came home late last night… did you have to drag Hashirama out of the gambling hall again?”, you whisper with a hint of amusement in your voice, which is answered by an annoyed huff from Madara. 

“That idiot almost lost his hokage cloak and the stupid hat… should have just left him butt naked on the streets and gone back home to you”, he replies, his eyes still shut. Madara isn’t a morning person, never was, but the fact that he’s engaging in a conversation with you means that he’s either more awake as he pretends or that he’s feeling slightly guilty for letting you go to bed alone last night. 

Your heart flutters and you smile when Madara presses a soft kiss on top of your head. His embrace feels the same like his love does; warm, secure and maybe a bit too intense if you’re not used to it. He is an Uchiha after all, who are notorious for the way they love–but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“I know you always come back to me though,” you whisper and cup his face with two hands once you manage to brush aside his long hair (and yet it was still everywhere). The morning sun was slowly crawling through the closed curtains but neither of you felt the urge to get up just yet. 

Madara hums at your words, placing his hand on top of yours to kiss the palm of it, down to your wrist, before opening one eye slightly. There’s a faint smile on his lips when he glances at you, and once again you can’t believe that you get to wake up next to him every day–for the rest of your lives even, the golden wedding bands on your ring fingers being proof of that. In one swift motion Madara rolls onto his back and your body right with him, making you lie on top of him and muffling your small protests with a kiss on your lips. 

“Can we stay like this for a little while?”, he mumbles in your ear, big hands finding their way underneath your shirt to feel your soft skin, fingertips drawing small circles on your back. You reply with a small noise of agreement, your face nuzzled in the crook of your husband’s neck, enjoying his affection. Oh, how tempting it is to drift back into sleep… and after all, why not? You’ve found a home in these arms, the safest place on Earth. Madara kisses your forehead, loving this slow morning as much as you do. If you had your eyes open, you would see the smile curling up on his lips and the tenderness in his gaze as he looked down on your figure resting on top of him. 

“I could make us breakfast,” he mumbles after a while, lifting your chin with two fingers to kiss your lips again, “and maybe run us a bath afterwards? Been a while since I washed your hair for you.”

A heartbeat later there’s a rattling noise coming from the kitchen, as if someone dropped several plates all at once, followed by a quiet “oops” in a voice that sounds a little familiar… 

You prop yourself up on your elbows to look Madara in the eyes, one eyebrow raised in suspicion.

“You’re not just proposing that because there is–what I assume–a half-naked and hungover hokage in our kitchen, roaming around for something to eat?” 

Madara looks guilty as charged and gives you an expression that could be best described as puppy eyes, silently pleading for your mercy. You can’t help but laugh and place a kiss on his lips. It’s not like you were mad at him to begin with, you found it was actually very thoughtful of your husband to make sure his best friend didn’t get himself into any trouble and risk getting scolded by his stern brother once again. Plus it wasn’t the first time either, you were almost getting used to your snack stash getting raided by a certain someone…

“I’ll kick him out and then I’ll make us breakfast,” Madara corrects himself with a slight cough. “Our bathtub is too small for three anyway.” He laughs quietly when you smack him with a pillow, grabbing your wrists playfully to stop you from attacking him any further. Madara uses the chance to kiss you again, a little more intense this time until your shoulders slump down and you practically melt into his embrace again. Sneaky, witty Uchiha.

“Tell Hashirama that next time he steals my husband away, I’ll file an official complaint with the hokage office”, you tease once you watch Madara get up and leave the room, wearing nothing but a loose morning robe. He rolls his eyes at you slightly but his smile betrays him as he stops in the door frame to look at you, still in the sheets that smell so heavenly like him. He shakes his head and laughs quietly, heart so full of you, and then he’s stomping down the hallway towards the kitchen.

What was supposed to be a quiet morning somehow turned into a kitchen duel of two adult men challenging each other in who could beat eggs the fastest (Hashirama, but Madara cooked them faster thanks to his katon) with you as their judge, and an impromptu breakfast with even more unannounced visitors (Izuna and Tobirama coming to check up on their respective brothers after abandoning them last night at the gambling hall for good), filling your house with bickering and laughter. 

But you don’t mind. As long as you get to be his, mornings like these make your heart grow fonder, knowing you have a lifetime with each other ahead. It is right there, in front of you, this bright, blazing heart of his.

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Three - Becoming acquainted

♡♡♡

When the letter arrived at your house, your mother squealed with delight. This was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her, it would seem.

Though you did make a point to remind her, this is not what she thought it was.

Still, you were dragged off to be cleaned throughly and dressed in your best gown for the occasion. Your mother saw to every detail. It was tiresome.

You said not a word the entire time.

Once you were dressed, she guided you to the carriage. For the entire ride, she told you what to do. You spent the whole trip looking out the window, wishing to disappear. You had been looking forward to a nice dinner with an intriguing family, but you knew your mother would make this unbearable.

The thought to befriend Benedict and Daphne had crossed your mind after they left last night. That's what you would look for in them. Friendship.

When you arrive at their home you are left in awe of how beautiful the house was from outside. You follow your mother up to the front door and wait to be let in. You step inside and find yourself further in awe. Their home was lovely. It felt cosy.

Lady Bridgerton comes over to greet you both. "I am glad to see you here. Please, come inside."

You're led into the drawing room where everyone is sitting and chatting. You find yourself startled to see the Duke of Hastings present. He greets you with a nod. You nod back.

Violet introduces you to the rest of the family. Anthony greets you the same way as the Duke. Benedict offers you a small smile, though you're not sure if he's actually pleased to see you or not. Colin kisses the back of your hand, and you smile. Daphne smiles softly at you. Eloise says nothing. She just looks at you, a book in her hands. Francesca gives a soft smile. Gregory and Hyacinth both say hello to you.

Violet urges you to join the others until dinner is ready. You look around the room and find there are no available seats. Benedict realises this, too, and stands up. "Please, sit here."

You thank him quietly and sit down where he had been. The seat was warm. He must have been sat in here a while.

Conversation proceeds within the room. Anthony is talking away the Duke. Eloise has her nose back in her book. Benedict stands behind you, his hand resting on the back of the chair.

"I didn't realise your family knew the Duke of Hastings." You said softly, looking up at Benedict.

"Anthony and he were friends back in Oxford. Do you know him?"

"Not personally. I've heard much of his father, though..."

The subject was a sore one, so neither of you said any more. You glance at the Duke. He looks like he would rather be anywhere else right now.

Benedict brings your attention back to him. "I'm sorry about my mother."

"Don't be." You smile. "I know how it is."

Benedict smiles, too. "Still, I will admit, I am pleased you are here."

"You are?"

"I'm very fond of making new friends. Does that sound good to you? My sister could also perhaps use a friend right now too."

You glance at Daphne and then back at Benedict. "Yes. That does sound rather nice. I hear the Bridgerton's are quite the friends to have."

Benedict smiles. "I think we are."

You both chuckle and smile at one another. From Violet's point of view, she believes you two are getting along quite nicely. The Duke has yet to speak to Daphne at all.

The bell for dinner is rung, and you all rise. You walk with Benedict to the dining room. Your mother joins Lady Bridgerton.

Benedict pulls out a chair for you, and you sit down. Daphne sits beside you and Benedict across from you.

The Duke is seated on the other side of Daphne.

Dinner is lovely. The whole family is sitting together at the table. Conversation flows naturally. There are smiles and giggles.

The conversation turns to Lady Whistledown.

"Haven't you heard what we're talking about? For all we know, Whistledown may be some interloper living in Bloomsbury, of all palces." Colin says.

You chuckle.

"What should be so terrible about Bloomsbury?" Benedict asks. "That people ther actually work for a living?"

"She does seem to be someone with access." Daphne points out.

"Who knows if Whsitledown is even a she?"

"Fair point." Anthony chines in.

"Because she is simply too good to be anyone but a man?" Eloise asks.

Benedict pulls a face at Eloise. You chuckle.

"Well, I think it rather obvious that the writer is Lady Danbury." Francesca says firmly.

"Lady Danbury enjoys sharing her insults with society directly." Daphne adds. "She would never bother herself writing them all down."

"Could it be Lady Featherington?" Hyacinth asks.

"No!" The whole table explodes into laughter.

"You have yet to read what Whistledown writes of the Featheringtons, little sister." Eloise tells her.

The table fills with different conversations now. Everyone is talking to each other about different things. You listen mostly to Benedict and Colin.

"I'm to spar Jackson himself." Colin says.

"You?" Benedict looks at him with disbelief.

"Is that envy I detect in your voice?"

You chuckle at the brothers. You're so focused on them thst you don't notice Daphne looking at the Duke beside her.

"Judgement, brother. I shall need to witness this." Benedict says.

Colin rolls his eyes, and you laugh again. Benedict looks up and smiles at you. "You'll come, yes? We shall watch as my brother fails in this endeavour."

Colin looks at you. "Please do not feed into my brother's terrible influence."

Benedict pretends to be hurt as he puts his hand on his chest. "You wound me."

You giggle. Benedict and Colin both chuckle with you, smiling at their own banter.

Things are getting tense beside you between Daphne and the Duke. You look at your plate, trying to ignore the atmosphere building.

"You are a rake... through and through." You hear Daphne say. "Tell me I'm wrong."

"Who is to refrain from thinking about whom again?" The Duke asks.

"I assure you. I am anything but interested in you." Daphne states.

"Good."

"Quite."

"And I am anything but interested in you, the eldest sister of my oldest friend, yet another subject of a certain writer. Chaste, neat, desperate."

You glance up at Benedict and Colin. Colin glances at Anthony, Benedict looks up at you as if checking to see if you're okay.

"I shall have you know-"

"To marry, that is." The Duke cuts her off. "Tell me I am wrong."

Elosie laughs, but the look her mother gives her soon had her quiet again.

"Hastings, I'm so glad you decided to join us this evening." Anthony says, breaking the tension. "It was most spontaneous of you."

You feel yourself relax again.

"Not at all." Simon responds. "With Lady Danbury accepting your dear mother's gracious invitation on my behalf... Well, however could I have declined."

Anthony looks at his mother, not looking too pleased with this news.

"You must stay for dessert. You too," she addresses you.

You smile. "Thank you."

"It's gooseberry pie, Your Grace." Violet smiles at the Duke.

"Ah! Lovely!" He sounds pleased.

Violet chuckles.

After dinner, you find yourself back in the drawing room. You're standing by the window with Benedict. He had been telling you a little bit about the house.

"It seems your mother has become quite acquainted with my own," he says, guiding you to the sofas.

"Yes. They spent a good portion of dinner chatting."

"I do believe mother only intended to invite you tonight," he chuckles.

"Yes. Well, mother is quite... eager to see me married. She thinks I stand a chance with one of you." You chuckle. "Fear not, I am not after your hand."

Benedict chuckles. "I do think we may become rather good freinds."

"You do?"

He nods with a smile.

"Then I am delighted to earn your companionship."

You both chuckle.

"You're welcome anytime." He tells you.

"I feel rather honoured."

"You should," he grins.

The hour starts to grow late. Violet passes by the doors of the drawing room. For a moment, she thought you and Benedict were alone in there, but as she comes closer, she spots Eloise reading in one corner, and Francesca working on her embroidery.

Violet enters the room. "I hope dinner was alright."

You look up and smile. "It was lovely. Thank you for inviting me."

Violet comes a little closer. "Well, any friend of my sons and daughters are welcome in my home." She glances at Benedict, who smiles at her.

Lady Bridgerton understands that her son has no intention of courting you. Nor do you seem to have any interest in him that way. However, a mother can hold onto hope.

"Benedict, why don't you escort her home?"

You rise from the sofa with him and bid goodnight to his sisters, who both say goodbye in return. Violet sees you both to the door. Benedict takes your arm as you exit out onto the street.

It only dawned on you that your mother was nowhere to be seen. Benedict realises you're looking for as you exit his home.

"It would seem she left a little earlier. Apparently, you were enjoying yourself so much with us. She decided to let you stay a while longer."

You smile. "Is that so?"

"I'm guessing. I have no idea." He grins.

Benedict takes you home, making sure you get inside safely. Before you leave his side and head in for the night, he asks you a question.

"Will you be attending the ball tomorrow?" He asks.

"I believe so, yes."

He smiles. "Save me a dance?"

You chuckle. "Of course. We have to help each other, no?"

Benedict smiles and watches you go inside. Even when the door shuts behind you he remains standing there for a moment.

Yes, you could help each other. You could help keep his mother at bay for a while, and perhaps he can help bring some attention your way.

Sounds like a plan.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

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@hopshusushi

A Very Monstrous Kinktober: Day 6 (Dub-Con)

Kink: Dubious Consent

Pairing: Merman x Fem!Reader

Other Kinks: Yandere, Creampie

Warnings: Mind Control (Siren's Song), Kidnapping, Aforementioned Dubious Consent

Word Count: 1011 Words

Kinktober Masterlist

Drake has been to many beautiful places in his life. He’s been amongst a pod of whales, new mothers and calves heading back to their home. He’s been up close with vast coral reefs, in between ancient sea turtles and giant pods of fish. He’s even swam through the crashing waves of a hurricane, enjoying the foam and turning water around him.

But right now, there's no place Drake would rather be than in between your legs.

Your thighs feel so plush against his lips, the skin almost like tissue paper against his sharp teeth. The urge to bite down is strong, to hear your gasps and taste the sweet blood that pulses underneath. But he doesn’t want your first time together to be a painful one, as much as he’d love to mark and claim all over your body. No, instead he just dives in and sucks at your cunt, delicious flavors exploding on his tongue. Just the scent makes his dick bulge against his sheath, aching from the lack of touch.

You moan so pretty when his tongue shoves deep inside you, prodding at your walls, his nose nuzzled into your clit. He pets at your hip, forcing himself to pull away from your pussy.

“How does that feel, love?”

“Feels…good.” You slur, voice heavy and delirious.

Drake looks up, wishing he could see your eyes at their normal color. Under the calming trance of his song, they’ve clouded over and lost all their shine. It’s a shame, but you had been putting up such a fight, resisting your body’s calling too much. Drake is sure with time you’ll accept his love, his partnership, and he can see those beautiful eyes while making love.

For now though, it's better you stay half-aware and submissive. Your pussy will stretch much easier, taking his larger merman-cock with more pleasure than pain. Its a mercy, really.

Speaking of, as delicious as your cunt is, Drake is impatient to be inside you. Grabbing onto the rock below, he pulls his heavy body and tail out of the water. His face now lines up with yours, allowing him to give gentle kisses to your cheek and neck. The song you're under doesn’t give you enough coordination to kiss back, but you still nuzzle into the affection anyway. So cute.

“I’m going to fuck you now, my darling. Is that okay?”

You nod, shoving your face into the crook of his heck, relishing in his soft skin.

“Yes…I want your cock.” Your voice is still slow, partially convinced of what you need. It's so adorable, Drake coos. It's a wonder he didn’t snatch you up sooner.

Drake arms tremble with excitement as he lines his cockhead up with your slit, your wet pussy feeling so good against it. Finally, finally he’s going to mate you, claim you, breed you. After longing and lusting for so long, Drake feels like he’s in Nirvana.

His moan echoes as he finally enters you, taking time to slowly fill you all the way to his base. His nails dig into the rock below, leaving white claw marks in their wake. When your walls clench around him, embracing the intrusion, his hips spasm and he fears he may come undone too soon. But Drake bites his lip, sucking in the blood he draws, and fights it. He’s waited so long. He must savor this.

Drakes uses one arm to throw your leg around his hip, using the leverage to begun thrusting his cock at a steady rhythm. He lets himself be wanton and loud with his moans, all alone in this secluded cave off the shore. Even your tiny whines and panting bounces off this wall, music to his ears.

“Goddesses, you feel divine.”

Drake keens, snapping his hips against yours. He can feel his tip hit the deepest spot inside you, chasing the way you tighten around him when he does. The slick sound of his scales against your ass reminds him of your tasty pussy juices, how he’ll get to drink them up every morning and every night now that he has you. His cock twitches inside you, dripping with his own pre cum. Maybe he’ll suck on your pussy after he climaxes, tasting the mix of your juices together, tasting the affirmation of your love. That makes his cock twitch even more.

Drake meets you in a passionate kiss, devouring all your little noises. His tongue forces its way inside, unbothered by your minimal effort in kissing him back.

Your nails dig into his back, leaving minimal damage. Drake relishes in the feeling.

“I’m close.” You whimper, eyes clenched shut.

“Yes, yes, cum on my cock.” Drake pants, eyes wild with passion. “I want to feel your love, I want to taste you.”

You whine as Drake pulls his shaft out to the tip, leaving you empty and on the edge for a tantalizing 3 seconds. He’s soaking in this view, your chest flushed with a blush, sweat beading down your neck. He wishes this could last forever

“Absolutely perfect.”

Before you can whine and beg for it, Drake shoves his cock deep inside you, finally chasing that high. Your legs wrap around the base of his tail and shake as your orgasm washes over you, milking his cock. His climax comes soon after, making sure to fill up your womb with his seed as he spends himself.

Even soft, the heat of your cunt feels perfect around him. But Drake knows he may crush you if he lays his whole body on top of yours, so he slips out and lays by your side. Cum drips out of your cunt, which Drake makes sure to finger back inside. Your eyes, still hazy, close shut as you rest against his side. Your breathing becomes steady, falling into a gentle sleep as your exhausted body comes off the high of his siren song. Drake strokes a hand alongside your cheek, so blessed to know that your visage will greet him every night from now on.

Yes, Absolutely Perfect