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satoruhour · 9 months

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HIS FAVOURITE W— STUDENT !

a/n: dilly / @crysugu i am losing the pwp war i needed the lore to be in this HELP. anyway !!! professors bc i cannot stop my mind from spiralling while starting my university classes — im not entirely proud of this but eehhh ….

wc: 4k

warnings: ultimately semi-public sex for all, unprotected sex, cumshot, standing doggy, brief oral (m receiving), brief f! masturbation, brief fingering (gojo), geto is a professor who is also a camboy, camgirl!reader, f! and m! masturbation, mentions of bad dragon’s cumtubes, brief fingering, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink (geto), pussy slapping, spitting (on yo pussy), pet names, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, tit play, fingering, implied f! masturbation (nanami), mentions of murder, stripper!reader, riding, degradation, calls you ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, calls you ‘mama’ once too, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), deep-throating, slight face-fucking (toji), n*sfw under the cut

✶ GOJO

professor gojo was… an interesting teaching figure. he didn’t have a set way of doing lectures or tutorials, nor was his feedback on assignments entirely coherent, but he was fun and unorthodox. he was also hot as fuck, as you’ve heard from your friends, but you never really got the deal even after seeing his photo on the university website or from miles away entertaining some starstruck student. his classes were always left with no vacancies, too, only able to see what your friends meant after stepping foot first into the lecture.

you were a tad bit early, greeted with gojo sitting at the front with his legs propped up on the desk as he shot you a nonchalant greeting and you think maybe you should’ve signed up for another lecture group, but then he speaks and the air is knocked out of your chest. professor gojo is charismatic when he teaches about art, design and media, captivating everyone with the stark white hair and blue eyes, but he’s clever with his glances because you aren’t realising he stares at you more than anyone else.

aren’t you in your second year? how did he not see you anywhere last year? why did you just sign up?

the smiles he gives you are sweeter than others, the words more sugar coated with lilts in his voice and you’re chastising yourself for not being any different from everyone else, soon turning into the girls who ask for extra tutoring sessions and sidling up to him on campus — at least you’d get the full experience.

“oh! sweetness, what are you doing here?” you’ve managed to get gojo just as he leaves his office, standing outside for quite some time thinking if you’d really want to do this. several lecturers and professors have already walked past asking if you needed anything, but no matter how much you wanted to say professor gojo’s name, it always turned into something like waiting for a friend.

“oh— uhm, professor gojo, just wondering if the grade for that major project is really set in stone?”

gojo makes a show of thinking, but you know you’re asking for the devil himself when he replies yes with a stifled grin and you’re asking if the two week period of appealing works for the major you’re in.

“you can submit other collaterals as an appeal but it might either boost your grade or bring it down,” the professor leans down with a sick smile on his face, because he’s had so many people outside just like this, nervous from his advances and yet not going through with what they thought they could do. but this time it’s you, the you who he imagined taking on his office desk or even in a lecture theatre for everyone to see, who wants the words to fall from your lips just so he could be your knight in shining armour.

“is there really no… other way to appeal?” you swallow when gojo switches the position and gets you in exactly where he wants you: your back facing his office, his face dangerously close to yours while his eyes slyly catching the way your thighs rub together.

gojo smirks to himself when you knock down yet another cup of stationery on his desk after “discussing” ways you could improve your grades, nails making unsatisfactory noises on the wooden desk while he can hear your cunt gush around him, made obvious from the squelch of your hole and he’s muttering praises into your neck from behind.

“this what you had in mind, baby?” just another girl in his roster, getting ruined just for a grade that wasn’t even that bad. what you didn’t know is that you were the only girl, getting professor gojo so hard in lectures and tutorial classes just from the sight of you that to finally have you — it’s a sweet reward. you shiver when his hand reaches to your front to rub at your clit and you’re grasping at nothing as moans leave your lips.

“y-yeah, professor—” gojo is filthy, lewd, lifting your leg to prop up on the desk just so he could get deeper in you, your pussy everything he imagined and more as he continues to fuck into you. you’re warmer than his hand, than some hookup’s mouth from the club, clenching around his cock so tightly his hips stutter.

“f-fuck, angel, tryna snap my dick off?” you let out an incredulous chuckle at that, hips moving back to meet his while the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass fill the room. your juices are coating his length so well, too, that gojo’s eyes lock on your cunt that sucks him in over and over again, the spread of your pussy lips just amplifying his moans. the other spreads your cheeks and sighs at the translucent ring of cum at the base of his cock, hips fucking up to hit your sweet spot that you’re cumming with a shock down your spine — so hard, so deep, so intense that you’re jolting from the orgasm with whimpers of his name. gojo never truly is done with you after pulling out to cum on your ass, however, and you aren’t either.

there’s a thrill that runs through his veins when you back him up onto the sofa, a glimmer in your eyes that suggest you’re as intoxicated on him as he is on you, a sultry gaze taking over your shyness from earlier before he’s pushed onto the cushions.

“thank you for the meal, professor,” you giggle and gojo swears he’s reached his death when your mouth first closes around his still sensitive tip and he whines loudly, hearing your fingers fill your drooling cunt as your hand squeezes out leftover cum from before. a hand runs through your hair and your cockdrunk face is enough for him to see white—

professor gojo thinks you look heavenly between his legs.

✶ GETO

you sigh echoes throughout your dorm room, ending the stream and collecting your keep for the day as you grimace at the mess you’ve made on your sheets. it’s not like it wasn’t pleasurable, but on some days you’re wondering how long you truly need to serve gross men on the internet for it to be enough to pay off your university fees. sure, there were a few attractive people who commented and tipped you, but that was the extent of it. it’s not long before you can only think about cleaning up and taking a big fat nap, but a video in the sidebar catches your attention.

it seemed like a casual stream — no script or planned storyline apart from a heavily tattooed arm taking up half the screen, his pelvis just slightly off the thumbnail. he was faceless, too, filming rather from the chest down which was also inked, something that sends a chill to your core.

it’s only later when you’re slipping your dildo back into you as you watch this stranger pump his cock, guttural groans and slick noises filling your airpods that you realise the dragon wrapping around his arm looks awfully familiar. you’re so blissed out by pleasure, focusing on the needy moans that the man lets out before he cums with a grunt, so much cum leaking out from him. you’ve reached your high too, but you have no time to admire the stranger because it seemed like he was in a hurry, but not before you’ve caught a glimpse of his lip ring.

you know why he looked so familiar, now, standing in front of him in his office while his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, something he doesn’t do often. geto suguru doesn’t wear his lip ring in lecturers either, and now you think you know why because they match the video you’ve seen just last night. you aren’t even entirely sure why you were called in, and you think maybe it’s because you “accidentally” sent a friend request, but you’re taken aback when he asks you if you’ve already selected a tutor to be your mentor throughout your major project.

“surprised? i sent out the email a week ago, love.” you try not to let the name get to you, and the confession lingers at the tip of your tongue.

“y-yeah! i saw it, professor geto, just—”

everyone was no stranger to professor geto’s striking looks, always turning heads with his unconventional gauges and long hair that probably should’ve landed him in a modelling agency in the first place. except, he’s opting instead to teach linguistics, a fitting major for him to talk of the history of language and its formation of it, even slipping in some latin and greek to show its origins but you can hardly listen when all you can focus on is the tight pull of his shirt around his body while his hair falls around his face and you think maybe it was a bad time to think if his hair falls out of his bun while he rails someone. you hope soon it’ll be you, just so you can confirm it for yourself with no other reason involved (you’re a fucking liar).

geto clears his throat and you swallow and the flex of his forearms only distract you further, the dragon on his arm seemingly laughing at your torment as it moves along his skin — the other doesn’t miss your dilemma, staring at you for your answer with a dark stare and enjoying the effect he had on you. your brain doesn’t respond fast enough, though, and you’re blurting out the first thing as you watch the curve of his mouth turn in either distaste or satisfaction; you weren’t sure.

“i saw you stream yesterday—” and you slap a hand over your mouth, wanting to run immediately, but you didn’t expect him to smile after a moment of recognition, making the connections to your account until his mouth falls open just a little.

“you’re the little cutie who sent me a request last night, aren’t ya?”

as he asks the question you hoped he wouldn’t ask, you find there’s nothing on your mind except maybe seeing his tattooed arms wrap around you — and you did. they looked so much better up close, leading from one thing to another in that stuffy office soon they’re looking especially good with how he’s currently dragging the tip of his cock along your folds, collecting your slick as you hold onto his biceps after confessing sin after sin about you from—

“i’ve jerked off to your videos.” a burn on your cheeks when geto sets you on his office table, palms leaving hot trails along your thighs and skin. he lets you play with his bulge, hands probably forming bruises on you from how you relieve the tension in his pants.

“the way your cunt wraps around that dildo — makes me wish i was there fuckin’ your pussy instead.” a gasp and a moan when he preps you with both fingers as he sucks hickeys into your neck and plays with your tits, pinching your nipple that has you clenching around him.

“didn’t miss how you like to be bred in your videos too. think maybe you need some real cum, princess,” geto’s button up shirt is pried open by now, trousers just barely pulled down below his hips because he has a lecture in about half n’ hour. though, he wanted your pussy all to himself and if 27 minutes was all he was granted, he was going to make full use of it. geto groans into your hair when your legs wrap around his middle and he’s reeling at how he’s been watching your videos for the longest time and yet, nothing compares to having you fall apart by his hands.

a quick glance to his watch tells him fifteen minutes, eyes flitting back to the squelch of your cunt around him and he smiles smugly at the whimpers he knows so well. he’s sure it’s imprinted on his brain by now but his dick still jumps at the many variations you’ve let out during the 27; he’d commit every single one to memory. “professor— s-shit!”

geto angles his hips up, the curve of his cock hitting that spot just right that your back arches and you let out a drawn out moan, “yes, baby?”

“w-wan’ your cum in me, suguru,” you’re pleading with a drunk little smile and your face is twisted into such pleasure he’s only seen through pixels that geto cums almost immediately with a pained laugh seeing the real thing, hips stilling as he fills you up, up, up to the brim with hot, white semen that geto feels embarrassed to climaxing so quickly. but what can he do? when his favourite camgirl and student asks to be bred, it’s only natural.

how could he possibly say no?

✶ NANAMI

“does that mean the poem is written from the cross’ perspective?” your hand shoots up in hopes of interpreting the text correctly, but also because, just maybe, that you wanted to impress a little someone at the front of the lecture theatre. beside you, you can hear the gasp of your friend along with the eyes of various other students. “sort of like— personification?”

nanami points to you with his glasses that he’s long removed, a small smile on his face. it’s not like you’re trying too hard, but of course you know your shit fairly well. you always have in every class, it was just a bonus you were so attractive that all nanami could think about was spreading your legs right on this desk. “yes, almost. anthropomorphism, something that was very common in poems or works written in old english.”

you were sceptical about professor nanami at first, especially since he was a lecturer who was transferred here from overseas only three months ago and is technically quarter of a white man, but he held command of the japanese language well enough for you to understand, both in speech and concepts. you were more interested in the lecturer himself though, piqued from the moment he explained his grandfather was danish and you turn to your friend, explains the blonde hair, doesn’t explain how he’s so insanely fine, giggling quietly to each other the first day.

as for your major, it was texts after story after poem, but you enjoyed it alongside giving your own input in class — something you knew would help your participation grades. you’ve raised your hand in more ways than one, always coming up at the end of lectures with a question, stopping him in hallways to show him the book you were currently reading. so that’s why you were confused when you were called to the front of the lecture theatre after everything’s over. it couldn’t be bad, right?

it wasn’t bad, it was much better, especially when nanami’s got your legs on either side of him on the lecture theatre desk while he takes his rightful place between your legs — somewhere he’s always longed to be. both the front and back doors are locked, with only your soft, muffled moans filling the room. but nanami has no shame, slurping up the juices that drip from your pussy loudly, possibly staining the desk below him. he’s cared before about the condensation of his drinks but when it comes to your sweet, sweet cunt? he doesn’t give one fuck.

“taste so good, sweetheart,” nanami moans wrapping a forearm around your thighs and just eats. he flicks his tongue over your clit, while the other hand goes up to squeeze at your tits, kneading and playing with them while you’re still at awe at the man on his knees, at how you’ve gotten one of the hottest professors in the university eating out of your pussy like it’s the last meal on earth.

you’re snapped out of your daze when nanami lands a few slaps onto your pussy, brown eyes boring holes into your skull. but this stare is different, as opposed to glaring down the mischievous boys who can’t stop making noise, this is…

“pay attention when i eat your little pussy, angel,” the demanding tone has you shivering, a small grin stifled when he nods in deserved approval and continues his assault. fingers slip in before you have time to react and your head is thrown back so hard it bumps against the wood but you don’t care, clamping down around his fingers. nanami’s pace is unforgiving, sucking hard on your clit while he pumps them in and out.

“feel good?” nanami asks through slurps as he catches your eye, licking one last stripe before gathering his saliva into a ball and he spits onto your clit, sight so lewd you clamp around his fingers. he admires how the way the glob of liquid runs down your cunt and mixes with your arousal that he can’t wait for it to be his cum instead.

“better than…” your voice trails off when he rubs in his spit, a thumb on your bud while he continues to move his fingers and your thighs are already trembling from how nanami knows all your sweet spots in such a short period of time. nanami simply chuckles at your sensitivity, meeting you halfway as you sit up to feel his lips against yours and he whispers against your lips—

“what were you gonna say, baby?”

you’re heaving for oxygen as he adds a third finger and you’re just hoping he’d show you his fucking dick already. hot breath fans across your lips and you smile to yourself seeing how your words affect him.

“better than fucking myself with my fingers thinkin’ it’s your cock, prof.”

✶ TOJI

it was nine in the morning, and toji could already feel a headache forming from the amount of absentees in his class, simply sighing before pulling up the details for today’s lecture, eyes unknowingly looking for you in the large lecture theatre. he finds that you’re already looking, clad in a cardigan and tired eyes — no doubt from trying to reach his deadline earlier than usual. toji found that you liked to do that, the first one to always submit your essays and assignments, so that’s why he knows what game you’re playing at when you’re asking the difference between first, second and third degree murder when you already know their definitions.

he would know — you got full marks the other time.

“hm?” toji only hums when he sees your enthusiastic face and a quick look down to your lower half shows how your legs spread naturally for him. the professor only licks his lips before he spots your underwear, entertaining you for now as you stare on earnestly, while nothing is actually entering your brain. that’s okay, though, you’re smart.

toji can count on one hand the amount of times you manage to catch him off guard, but he didn’t expect both of those times to be on the same day. it was a busy night at the club, trailing behind professor gojo, bored, until the clock hits 11 and the shift changes, some dancers retiring for the night whilst others make their way out. they emerge with pumps and skimpy outfits, but toji still hasn’t found someone worth wasting his loaded bank account on until you’re stepping out in a corset and garters and toji whistles lowly, eyes travelling up your person unforgivingly before he hears a small gasp.

his curiosity is piqued at the small noise, only to be greeted with your widened eyes and taut muscles at having seen your professor at the strip club you work at, but with a clap from somewhere backstage your body moves naturally into a professional stance, and perhaps a little more sluttily than other days.

your professor was hot, of course you would work twice as hard, twisting your body around the pole while you show off your assets — things you were covering just this morning in professor toji’s lecture. he taught criminology, a minor that you were trying out in your second year of uni and if it didn’t work, you’d drop it, but no matter how much you complained about the class, the green eyes that bore into yours in lectures always seem to ask you to stay. you never really knew whether he was looking at you or not.

at least now, you’ll make him.

toji’s hands tightened around the wad of cash he planned to waste tonight, all put on hold just from watching the way you put your body on display. he wouldn’t have imagined seeing you tonight at the strip club he let gojo drag him to, but he’s almost glad he’s here when you seem to be only dancing for him, all focus on the other patrons lost.

your eyes are still locked with toji’s, reminding you of the times in the lecture theatre where green was all you could see, a smile creeping on your face when one of your girlfriends behind you whispers that the man with the black hair and tight shirt wants a private session with you.

that’s all it took before you feel toji’s hands on your ass later in the private room, pulling you to his front with a smirk. “what’s a sweet girl like you doin’ here?”

you roll your eyes as you feign annoyance. your heart was pounding along with the music, finally being able to feel his toned body from the front., “cut the crap, prof. you booked me for a reason. what, here to talk about my grades or something?”

“what? can’t see my favourite student?” you scoff with a small smile.

“and how did you know i work here?”

“i didn’t, but seeing you work that pole,” toji grins, landing a smack on your butt before grinding his very obvious, large bulge on you and he’s loving the way it seemed to stimulate your clit, “i need ya to show me what i’ve been missing, mama.”

toji groans later while you’ve got his cock in his mouth, on your knees in front of him while you’re fisting the places you can’t reach. you take most of him easily, feeling the tip of his length reach the back of your throat. there, your eyes flick up to him, doe eyed and pleading. it isn’t long before you feel his hips bucking into your mouth and the cute twitch of his cock in your mouth, moaning around him as you knead his thighs, dragging him closer with what little strength you had.

“dirty fuckin’ slut, huh?” toji mumbles out breathlessly, tightening his grip around your hair before you start bobbing your head again, a plethora of lewd noises alongside the slurp of your saliva and his pre-cum mixing only makes your panties wetter and sends your cunt clenching around nothing. “who knew my cutest student was such a whore?” your head reels at the degradation, sucking in your cheeks even more while you slobber over him. toji swears under his breath when your tongue sweeps over his tip, collecting his pre-cum.

“it’s s’big in my mouth, professor,” giggling, you bob your head faster as the other’s noises increase in volume, and he’s left to tap the side of your skull, causing you to tilt your head in question. the vibrations of your moans has him grinding into your mouth, shutting you up until he’s cumming down your throat with a loud groan. toji spills so much into your mouth that you have to swallow twice, pulling on your jaw as you show him the remnants of the cum still on your tongue.

“’m sure they have it somewhere in the conduct about professors not having sexual relations with a student,” toji chuckles when he sees you peel off your underwear, eagerly wrapping his arms around your waist. “or even something about cutting corners to get your grades up…” it’s a little soft, trailing off when he feels you drag his tip along your pussy and he’s mesmerised with how your dripping folds accommodate him easily.

you pout in dramatics, thighs tightening around his when you take inch after inch of him before you’re bottoming out. there’s a deep sigh coming from you before you’re moving your hips lazily, a certain slur to your words that already show you’re drunk on your professor’s cock and toji only smiles.

“yeah, but my grades are perfectly fine,” you whisper with a small whine when toji squeezes your ass, something he never thought he’d get a taste of.

“plus, we’re not in the classroom now, are we, professor?”

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yandere-writer-momo · 3 months

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Author’s note: I am stuck in a slump so I’m going to write a guilty pleasure of mine… the body swap trope except this time, with a twist. And of course with the one that got away trope. I adore it so very much like black cherry ice-cream.

Yandere Head Canons:

The Husband Swap

Yandere Shapeshifter x Married Fem Elf Reader x Neglectful Drow Husband

TW: yandere content!! Mentions of smut, dubcon, tentacles, monster fucking, size kink, manipulation, voyeurism, oral, and unhealthy relationship.

Art from Veil Manga

You had been married to your husband, Nikolai Sokolov, for many years. An arranged marriage set up amongst your people as a peace treaty… you, a high elf, wed to a drow, dark elf. And Nikolai was often cold to you… despite how often you attempted to bond with him.

Nikolai refused to eat any of the food you made and he constantly brushed aside your attempts to get to know him. He cared little for this arranged relationship and treated you as if you were some mere commoner, a fact that only made your heart sting.

Nikolai would occasionally share a bed with you, but it was often out of fulfilling his needs. He cared little for your pleasure and only cared to satiate his own.

One day, Nikolai bought you a servant just to get you to leave him alone (outside of sex). A shapeshifter.

A magic collar was bound tightly around their silver neck as a preventative to their ability to shift. They were now powerless and subservient. A trait that most shapeshifters didn’t have since they were quite sly by nature. You wondered what this creature had done to have been reduced to a servant…

Their name was Lev Snegur and they were close in age to you and Nikolai. The shapeshifter was somewhat masculine looking with sharp features and pitch black eyes. A genderless species that never uttered a sound, what wonderful company to have.

You often tried to engage in small talk with them, but they remained as silent as the depth of night. Not a peep left their lips to ever give you input. It unnerved you.

You were very sweet to them and even offered to share meals, but they only stared at you. Talking to Lev was like talking to a brick wall that nodded at times. Lev was an incredibly good listener.

Lev’s company did little to satiate the ache in your heart and the all consuming loneliness. You were so isolated in this empty home filled with bitterness. And you started to accept that you’d never find any warmth with him. Nor would you find solace in your silent servant’s company.

Occasionally you’d wake up covered in a slight sweat, a puddle of dampness below you. The room would always feel of sex, yet you hardly had any of that… but you were always a bit sore between your legs when you’d wake up on mornings like this. Had you been having wet dreams due to your consistent loneliness? Or was there something foul at play?

So it was a surprise when Nikolai bounced into your room like a puppy one morning. His arms wrapped around your side while he inhaled your scent. What on earth was he doing?

“Nikolai?” Nikolai placed a finger on your lips, a mischievous look in his crimson eyes.

“Shh, I have a surprise for you!” Nikolai gave you a bright grin that made you do a double take. You’ve never seen your grumpy husband smile in his entire life. This had to be a dream… you gave yourself a pinch and hissed at the pain you inflicted on your poor arm. Nope. Not a dream.

Nikolai lead you out of the room to where a grand meal was set before you consisting of all of your favorite delicacies. You had no idea your husband even knew you adored such food…

“Do you like it?” His face was hopeful as he took your hand in his. “I’ve come to a realization that you genuinely care for me… so I will treat you better.”

And from that day forth, Nikolai was more attentive than he ever had been. He insisted you should move into his room and he often cuddled with you… it was so odd. This entire situation was bizarre, almost as if this was another person and not your husband.

It was when Nikolai went down on you for the first time that your mind truly began to believe he was another man. When did he learn how to please you and why did he eat you out like a man starved? This wasn’t your husband… this was an imposter.

When ‘Nikolai’ made love to you, he felt bigger. You swore he was nearly two to three inches than he used to be, which made your stomach protrude like you had a baby bump. And his hands ardently grasped at every bit of your body as he could.

It wasn’t too uncommon for you to find your husband sniffing your hair like some sort of animal. You were so scared…

The longer you spent time with ‘Nikolai,’ the more paranoid you became. There were less and less drows around now and your servant was missing… you were starting to become afraid.

But you never were able to get much time to think about it too much since ‘Nikolai’ was always dutifully by your side. There was never any time to ask questions… until tonight. You decided to ask him… for you feared you’d fall off the deep end into insanity if you didn’t.

“Where’s Lev?” You softly asked Nikolai whose fingers paused their dance over your scalp. His crimson eyes glanced over to your face.

“And why do you care so much about a shifter when your husband is here?” Nikolai asked in a bitter tone, but you could see a bit of excitement in his eye. And it made your heart pulse in your brain.

“Well, I miss Lev.” You softly whispered. It wasn’t a complete lie. You did miss your servant who always listened to you, but you preferred his silent company over the overbearing presence of your changed husband.

“Hmm… well, we can go see him if you’d like.” Nikolai rose up from the bed and wrapped a black robe over his bare chest. “He’s in the dungeon.”

You were a bit shocked by your husband’s words. “What do you mean? Lev never did anything wrong-“

“My wife is too kind for her own good.” Nikolai held your chin to pause you from rambling on even more. His eyes were filled with so much emotion, it froze you in place. “It’s what I love most about you.”

You gulped and averted your gaze, your cheeks felt hot.

Lev lead you down the hallway and down the winding stairs to the dungeon, his hand gently held yours. You felt dread creep up into your stomach the closer you went to the dingy dungeon. Your nerves felt as if they were on fire…

And the sight before you terrified you to your core, the angled corpse of Nikolai laid sprawled out on the brick flooring. His lifeless eyes turned toward the door and his mouth agape in a horrific scream forever frozen on his rotting face.

You tried to flee but your ‘Nikolai’ began to shift, slender hands now held you firmly in place while your captor’s face slowly morphed into the bewitching creature named Lev.

“It didn’t take much to overpower him. Your husband was too cocky to notice I figured out how to disarm the collar.” Lev’s voice made your blood run cold from how raspy it was. His voice low and monotonous despite the various emotions that hid beneath the surface of his eyes. “To whack him over the back of the head with a sword hilt and drag him down here. It was child’s play really.”

“Are you going to kill me too?” You whimpered when his grip tightened around your arms. His face filled with concern.

“Kill you? Nonsense, I’d never kill my wife!” Lev began to pepper your face with numerous kisses while his arms snaked around your waist. “I mean it when I say I love you, I love you more than that bastard ever could.”

You try to protest, but you feel something slimy wrap around your legs and give them a squeeze. Your eyes are wide in terror at the black tendrils that snaked around your plush thighs. What on earth?!

“And I can certainly fuck you better than he ever could… I can show you things no other monster could ever show you, so won’t you indulge me? I promise I’ll blow your mind.”

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evergone · 10 months

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Hypocrite

Theodore Nott x Reader

Warnings: 18+ content (sex), swearing

Description: The reader is embarrassed by the hickies Theo left on her, but she's not one to speak.

Merlin, you were pissed. Or, maybe — maybe you were embarrassed. Afterall, there were purple and yellow bruises all over your breasts and along your collarbone and up the sides and back of your neck. Despite your best efforts, your makeup hadn’t covered them all, and the collar of your blouse kept smearing the foundation and exposing more of them to the entire student body. A student body who couldn’t stop talking about you.

“Trip down the stairs did you, Y/n?” Pansy teased.

“Our very own Slytherin slut,” Daphne laughed fondly.

“By the name of Salazar,” Blaise breathed heavily at the sight of them.

You could only sigh in frustration, your head in your palms, “Guys, stop, please. Everyone and their mothers are giving me shit about it, you don’t need to join in.”

You weren’t lying. In Defense Against the Dark Arts, Snape had practically burnt a hole through your neck, and then, in Transfiguration, McGonagall had quietly asked if you needed to step out to touch up your makeup. The worst, however, was Potions with Slughorn. His opinion of you since the beginning of the year had been purely positive since your family were fairly wealthy and you achieved some of the highest grades in his class. When he saw the hickeys all over you, though, his bulbous nose had turned up in disgust and he made a most unpleasant grunt of disproval. You were sure you had made his blacklist.

“This warrants murder,” said Pansy.

“It does, doesn’t it?” You asked, “I am so fucking mad at him for this.”

Oh, but you could hardly speak.

You and Theo (your boyfriend and hickey-giver) both received invitations to a party that was held the night before, and despite knowing you had school the next day, you went. Once you were about ten drinks in, you were completed sloshed, and when you were completely sloshed, you got horny.

Though the crowd of party-goers stood between yourself and Theo, you could still see every part of him. He was just standing there, chatting with Blaise and Draco, a can of cheap beer held lazily in his right hand while his left was barely touching his hip. He was so, so hot. You bit your lip sexily then made your way over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, kissing the back of his white shirt, and leaving stains of red lipstick all over it.

“Hey, Y/n, baby,” he hummed, happy from all the drinks he’d downed in the three hours prior, “What’s up?”

“Teddyyy,” you mused and stared up at him as he looked over his shoulder at you, “I want sex.”

Blaise and Draco snickered and Theo shot them a glare. After that, you can imagine what happened. Lots of moaning, groaning, grunting, panting. Enough snogging to last you both a lifetime, but not really because there was no such thing as “enough snogging,” and love making that lasted well past the rise of the sun that peeked through the window to Theo’s dorm room and illuminated every gorgeous curve of your body.

While Theo was the kind of sexual partner to want to leave marks all over you — not because he was the jealous type, just the prideful type, he liked everyone to see that he’d won you — you were the kind of sexual partner who liked it rough. You liked to feel his dick more or less pounding against your womb, so close that it almost warranted a trip to Madame Pomfrey. You liked when he thrusted into you fast, but not sloppy, always obeying your comments of ‘faster, Theo’ and ‘honey, please, I need it faster.’ But he couldn’t obey too much, you were very particular about that. He had to make you feel good, but he still had to be in control. It was always best if he gave in to every third or fourth demand, so that you had to beg for it. But the best part about rough sex with Theo? Well, it was what made you such a hypocrite.

“Mate,” Draco gaped at Theo’s back in the locker rooms before quidditch practice, “Did you get into a fight with a werewolf or something?”

Theo frowned in confusion, “What are you talking about?”

Draco motioned for Theo to move into view of the mirror and when he got a good look at his reflection he joined in the gaping. Long, red lines ran down his back like the British army at the Battle of Balaclava. He had become a canvas and you had painted him with your claws. He ought to have them clipped, Merlin’s beard.

The scratches were mostly up and down (go figure), but there were are couple that ran horizontally which Theo couldn’t place the origin of. You had torn him apart, you freak.

And that’s when you stormed into the locker room. Pucey had squealed, that was the first sign that you had entered. The second was the smart-ass warning that escaped Draco’s mouth ( “Look what the cat dragged in… or maybe she herself is the cat,” he said.

“She is the cat’s mother,” you responded, annoyed, and kicked him in the shin.

“My point still stands,” he laughed painfully).

Your hands were covering your eyes so as to not expose yourself to the privates of the entire Slytherin Quidditch team, and Theo thought you looked like a total dork in the cutest way. A pout had settled on your lips to make up for the fact that your frown was also hidden behind your hands.

“Theodore Nott!” You huffed and the locker room broke out into a chorus of ‘ooh’s, “Shut up, all of you — Theodore, look at what you’ve done to my neck.”

“I can’t really see behind your hands, lovey,” said Theo and you swore you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Use your imagination then, I’m sure you remember what you did to me last night — Oh, aren’t you all so mature,” you hissed as the boys erupted into laughter like little children.

You felt Theo’s hands settle on your hipbones as if they were arm rests. He pulled you in until your nose hit his chest and removed your hands from your face. So safe you were in his presence that you couldn’t see any of the other boys around you. With his big eyes that were more ocean-coloured than sky, he stared down at you, and flashed his brilliantly white grin.

“You aren’t much better, you know?” He said with a tone of question in his voice and continued to talk when he realised you didn’t know what he was talking about, “My back?”

He turned for you and upon seeing the mess you had evidently made on his back, you shut your mouth.

“Even?” Asked Theo.

“Even,” you nodded.

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inkskinned · 2 months

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you found out today that a phrase you have used before was coined by an abusive man. this felt like getting your teeth taken out. it made you sick and sad and tired, but not surprised.

bad people tell you to be careful when you talk badly of bad men, that it could "ruin" a life. you had your life ruined by a bad man, not that it ever matters to them. your real life having real consequences is not valued as highly as the potential of his future.

this has always been a frustrating little mathematics problem for you. you've missed school and had to call out sick at work and had panic attacks that lasted for weeks. it stole sleep and food and friends from you. you cried in public, fucked your relationships up. and the whole time: your present has never mattered so much as the great what if! of his future. like - one life (your life) is already ruined, should we really ruin two?

so you live with the consequences and he doesn't, and that's just like, something you need therapy for. you once discussed this with one of your friends over coffee. she chewed the wooden stirrer, looked off into the distance. "once i became a victim, everything that happens to me afterward is automatically less interesting in the eyes of the general public. it is always about him. he changed my identity. to survivor. to statistic. meanwhile this whole time - i am a person."

you learned in college that three out of five of your favorite artists and authors were actually abusive assholes. these days, you are no longer surprised. oh, is that what was happening behind closed doors? of course it was, he was a "genius," and she was just a girl. you are talking about him in art history, so obviously his career was absolutely ruined, for eternity. that's what happens, right? they strike your name from the record and refuse to remember you? nobody really knows her name, but hey. that's what you get for being close to celebrity.

you got into an argument about it, which was a bad argument, because it made you cry. he said what, you want us to just ignore all the things this man did because he made a few women uncomfortable? and you'd balled your fists up and choked on it. later, in bed, you agonized over the response you'd been trying to articulate but never found the right moment to deploy: you are ignoring what any person could do if they weren't being fucking abused. maybe her talents far exceeded his and she was just never allowed to fucking use them. maybe we only see genius in white men because they purposefully fucking squash and silence any other people with talent.

but you'd cried about it instead of saying that, because you are the cost. you are the talent and potential that he took. you used to be brave and smart and clever and unafraid. like a lich, he stole years of your life.

quiet on set made you sad and sick and tired, but not surprised. unfortunately, one of the things he said was true: an entire network of people allowed it to continue. this is not news to you, because you have seen entire networks of people make the same fucking excuses when the same thing or-worse happened to you. and your particular story isn't even in hollywood. it was just a guy. it was still difficult getting people to stand up for you.

you and your friend wait in line for your coffee. like a standup joke, one man turns to the other and says "can't wait for every bitch to come crawling out of the woodwork complaining about harassment. it's another metoo." and you think - oh, that's the network. your boss tucks her hair back and whispers that while your skirt is cute, you're giving the boys the wrong idea. that's the network. when you'd told your "friend" about what happened, she'd said oh you must have misunderstood, that would never happen. and that's the network.

you woke up this morning panting, because years later you still have panic attacks. oh, it's not a network, actually, it's a web. and you, little moth: are you still surprised you're caught in it?

#warm up #spilled ink #writeblr

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kaleldobrev · 4 months

Text

Lavender & Honey

Pairing: Felix Catton x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader & Felix Catton

Summary: Taking a bath with Felix

Word Count: 760

Warnings: Just pure fluff & Implied nudity (takes place in the bath)

Authors Note: Obsessed with the idea of taking a nice relaxing bath with this man | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

It was late, but you were nowhere close to being remotely tired as the grandfather clock in the hallway chimed at 11:00pm.

Your boyfriend lie next to you, entirely focused on the newest and final Harry Potter book that was being passed around to the group. Tonight, was his night to read at least two chapters before handing it off to Venetia. With his free hand, he gently had it resting on your bare thigh, tracing small circles on your skin with his thumb. It was such a simple gesture, but yet it was one that you craved at all hours of the day and night.

Since it wasn't your turn with the book (as you had just given the book for Felix to read); you opted to doodle in your sketchbook that Elspeth had given you for your birthday this past year. You weren't a particularly good artist, but drawing and painting and going to art museums was something that you had enjoyed doing for as long as you could remember; part of the reason as to why you were studying History of Art at Oxford.

You let out a small yawn and closed your sketchbook, placing it onto the side table on your side of the bed. Out of your peripheral, you could see Felix had a soft smile on his face. "Getting tired?" He asked, turning to look at you.

"Not really but, I think my body is giving up on doing anything remotely productive the rest of the evening," you stated. "Would you want to join me for a bath or are you too focused on the prospect of The Golden Trio having a threesome?" You said teasing.

Felix let out a small chuckle, placing a bookmark between the pages before closing the book completely, placing it on his side table. "As much as I am interested in the prospect of them having a threesome, I much rather take a bath with you because it could lead to other things," he smirked, slightly leaning in close to you.

"It always does," you smirked back.

Walking into the bathroom, Felix automatically made his way to the tub, turning the water on as you went into the cabinets. As you knelt down in front of the cabinets, he looked over at you and couldn't help but admire you. You were wearing one of his rugby shirts, and it looked like a short dress on you given his height; and your hair was in slight disarray — still managing to look like a model in his eyes.

"Find what you're looking for love?" He asked, his eyes solely fixated on you.

You turned around, a slight grin on your face as you stood up with a bag of what appeared to be bath salts. "I did!" You beamed, and walked over to him, pressing the full bag into his hands. "I found this at a shop with V and Farleigh when you were spending the day with Ollie yesterday."

Felix looked down at the bag, and it was a large bag of lavender and honey bath salts — your scent. "You know if we put this in the bath, I won't be able to keep my hands off of you."

You wrapped your arms around his waist; and he did the same. Looking up at him, you grinned. "That's the idea love," you slightly whispered, standing up on your tippy toes as he leaned down and met your lips, giving you a quick peck.

The entire bathroom was filled with the strong smells of lavender and honey; the only light emitting from the room came from the assortment of candles that you and Felix had lit which added a rather cozy ambiance.

Felix got into the bath first, and laid back into the tub, his arms slightly hanging off the sides of it. He spread his legs a bit, just enough for you to fit yourself perfectly between them.

Getting into the tub, you settled yourself perfectly between his legs, and laid your back against his chest as you nestled your face into the crook of his neck slightly. His arms found themselves wrapping instantly around your frame as he placed a kiss on the top of your head before resting his chin in the exact same place.

It was simple moments like these that the both of you truly cherished, and couldn’t imagine doing it with any other.

“I love you,” you said softly, peering up at him.

“I love you too,” he replied, placing a kiss on your temple.

Taglist:

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#felix catton x you #felix catton x reader #saltburn #saltburn imagine #saltburn one shot #saltburn drabble #saltburn drabbles #felix catton #felix x you #felix x reader #female reader #reader insert

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mooshywrites · 3 months

Text

What they’d be like as a dad

Bg3 men and fatherhood

Masterlist

Art Commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Astarion ~

~ Astarion wasn’t sure he wanted to be a father at first

~ After all, kids require a lot of attention and affection, things he was still learning to give

~ So when he realized he was going to be a father, he was a nervous wreck for a while

~ Everything changed when he held his pale little bundle of blanket

~ After that, he was almost obsessive

~ His favorite was the toddler phase, he loved walking around and seeing your little one see discover everything in the world for the first time

~ He was a little too indulgent, though he’d never admit it. There was nothing his baby could point to that he’d say no to

~ Even if he had to steal it

~ In the evenings, you’d find him sitting in front of the fireplace, snuggled close with the baby

~ “I want to give you everything I never had and more”

Wyll ~

~ Wyll was excited to be a dad and was very present through the whole process

~ He worked a lot, but made sure to spend as much time as possible with his kid

~ Even when he wasn’t home, he talked about the baby all the time

~ He told everyone who would listen everything new the kid had learned, proudly boasting about their accomplishments

~ His favorite part of the day was coming home from a long day as the Duke, being tackled by their clingy kid

~ He’d laugh and clean up, sitting with them to patiently hear about their day

~ He always brought home gifts for you both, little snacks or a new toy that had caught his eye

~ He was the perfect playmate, he loved making wooden swords and props to pretend

~ At dinner time, he made sure everyone got a full plate before he fixed one himself

~ Then he’d ask around the table, making sure to give his child undivided attention

~ “The highest honor I could ever receive is being called your father”

Halsin ~

~ Halsin was made to be a dad and wanted a big family

~ In the end, he had a mixed herd of orphans he’d adopted, kids he’d fathered, and a few mystery cases

~ It didn’t matter if they were blood or not, he loved them all the same

~ Halsin’s a very patient dad, he loved to teach the kids everything he knew about the world

~ He memorized each of their favorite fruits, making sure to stop and gather them often

~ He loved when the herd gathered around him and begged him to turn into a bear, using him as a giant furry jungle gym

~ Those days usually ended in a big sleeping pile, all the kids snuggled into his soft fur

~ His kids were his entire world, and he knew each of their personalities well

~ It wasn’t rare at all for each kid to have a collection of whittled toys, each personalized to them

~ “Guiding you through life is my greatest joy and my deepest pride”

Gale ~

~ Gale was nervous, but excited to be a dad

~ Tara was absolutely exasperated by the amount of questions he asked her, saying she was too old to remember how to raise a Dekarios

~ So he started researching instead

~ The two of you could have built an entire nursery with the parenting books he bought

~ He relaxed quite a bit after the baby was born, falling into fatherhood in a beautifully natural way

~ He loved sitting with your child and entertaining them, spending hours casting little spells

~ He made sure the baby never felt lonely, helping them sneak in all sorts of creatures

~ He loved when the kids hit school age and took interest in all of their hobbies

~ The house was an absolute mess of crafts and experiments, Gale never said no to exploring a theory

~ He was always a safe place for your kid to go to, he had the best listening ear and advice

~ “There isn’t enough time in the world for me to tell you how proud I am of you”

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sad-leon · 3 months

Text

Transfem Leo go brrrrrrrrrrrr <3

A concept I've had in my head of transfem Leo for a while. She'd always felt a little more feminine than her brothers, but just embraced it. It wasn't like she was too upset about being their brother, but the label never settled right. Until Donnie decides that they need like- full DNA/Genetic evaluations just in case they have some underlying issues just waiting to jump out at them and surprise! Leo is biologically female!

Presenting this information to Leo, Donnie is prepared for a gender crisis, but instead he's greeted by Leo being incredibly excited and happy about this news. Leo tells Donnie that she's never really felt like their brother, but didn't think it was too big of an issue to bring up, but then Donnie gives her this information and she's ready to embrace the sister title with her entire being. Finally, it all makes sense! She's not their brother and she never was!

The gender identity crisis hits later when she has a moment of "I'm not trans, but I am and oh god I don't have a communty-", but for now she confides in her brother her true identity

For a while she decides to go by "Doe" because it's close enough to Leonardo, but when her brothers call her Leo she can tell they say the name with their "brother" in mind, so until they get used to her identity, she just sticks with Doe

I rotate her in my mind constantly alsdjflasdf

Tea made some wonderful art of her Here and Here!!!! I still treasure these very much!!

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strawberrysainz · 6 months

Text

holocene. charles leclerc

charles leclerc x fem!reader

“ a quiet last day in london with your boyfriend, except, you’re not leaving with him. ”

a warning — angsty, suggestive, use of profanity. NSFW: SMUT. don’t read/interact if you’re under 18!

word count: 3.1k

i am terribly sorry for how slightly devastating this is. i was listening to bon iver and holocene just made me start bawling and remember this day (it is not entirely fictitious, after all… the artist is true, except i’ve never had the honour of meeting him; though his art lights up nearly every home around my home town.)

The soft sounds of a nature show in the background made her eyes close sleepily while Charles held her; the mid morning light shone through the windows, and she had a sudden urge to stand up. He stared up at her as she stood there indecisively, staring off into space, a kind of stupid smile on his face.

“Let’s do something today. Let’s go get lunch.” She said with a nod, and he raised his eyebrows, casting a glance to his suitcases that stood there on the wooden floor. “Okay.”

He got up, holding her, kissing her cheek softly, and they stood there for a second. “What do you feel like? Where do you want to go?” His voice was hoarse, sleep still coating it from their lie-in, and she followed him to her bedroom.

“There’s a really cute little restaurant down the road that does such good burgers.” She said, slowly undressing to pull on other clothes, and he had that strike of desire he always did when he watched her embrace her most intimate state - and he bent down to meet her gaze in the mirror, leaning to kiss her neck softly.

“You look beautiful.” He said softly, and he meant it, watching her put on makeup.

She blushed, and leaned up to kiss him, slowly, passionately.

He smiled, eyes sparkling with something she had yet to memorise: “You’re making this very difficult for me, you know that?” giving her a long, slow kiss, hands on her hips.

She broke away, bashfully. “Oi. I want burgers,” and laughed when he pouted.

He laughed then, unable to stay pretend-mad at her for long. “Fine, fine.” His tongue slipped on the words, a normal occurrence due to English besting him at times. She giggled as she pulled on a sweater, patting down her hair. She swatted his ass as she found a purse from the depths of her cupboard, and he rolled his eyes playfully as they left her apartment, going down to her car.

She slid into the passenger seat, patting her well-worn leather of the Fiat. He followed, starting the engine and pulling out of the position on the street. “What do you want to do after? A movie?” He glanced over at her playfully.

“You’re in such a movie mood this weekend.” She giggled, and continued. “But there’s an exhibition at some gallery in town of an artist from my home town - could we have a quick look?” He shrugged. “Sure.” (He didn’t really care what they did; he just wanted to spend time with her in her element.)

She leaned over then to stroke his thigh, comfortably, and as he did an excellent parallel park that had her nodding, impressed - she gasped when he got out and pressed her against the car, kissing her quickly, and when he pulled back, he grinned with a hint of mischief.

She laughed, leading him to the front door of the restaurant. “You look lovely today, did I mention that?” He said cheekily, hand on her waist, and she told him to be quiet, blushing as the waitress greeted them.

They ordered burgers and chips, and she studied the decor while he stared at her, memorising her face. He slid a hand up her leg, looking at her cheekily when she narrowed her eyes. “Stooop.” She groaned, fighting back a smile.

Charles grinned and moved in closer. “I think you like it.” He teased, voice lowering, and her mouth dropped open - the waitress returned with their food - and she thanked her, trying not to flush at his rough voice.

He leaned over and stole a chip- she in turn stole one of his. They grinned at each other.

💌🎨☕️🎶

They were walking to the Tube station, trying to figure out the best way to get to this obscure gallery, and a few people stopped to ask for a picture with him, but he never stopped holding her hand (much to her embarrassment, but also, delight).

His hand gripped hers as they stood on the escalator, smiling at a fan who called over to them, and they waited for the next train, getting on and miraculously getting two seats open next to each other. They slid into the seats, and their legs brushed as he pulled her comfortably into him.

“Tell me more about this guy.” “The art,” he expanded as she gives him a confused look, and she nods. “So back home -“ she got that wistful look on her face like she always did when she spoke of her home country, much like he did -“There was this pretty famous artist who lived in the town where I went to school. I took you one day for lunch and that ice cream when we went to visit a few months ago?”

He pretended to know exactly what town she was talking about.

“Anyway, this exhibition is basically his whole life’s work. He’s just this old guy. But his paintings are so, so vibrant and colourful. They’re in a lot of my parents’ friends’ houses.” He thinks about the paintings when she speaks, nodding, and leans back against the wall. The lapse in conversation makes her take out her phone, carrying on reading.

He takes a peek at her screen, and watches her peaceful expression, and squeezes her hand still holding his lightly.

“What’re you reading?” He asks, thinking back to the stacks and stacks of books lining her apartment.

“It’s translated from French -” she smiles when he instantly becomes more interested - “And it’s about this woman who’s like, fascinated with funerals.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you think that’s weird?”

“It’s intriguing.” She says instead, and his lips try to say the same word, the sound of his heavy accent distorting the word, and she snorts, “She’s kind of on a quest to be constantly positive. She’s very likeable. I don’t know why she likes funerals so much yet though.”

He nods thoughtfully, his fingers still entwined with hers. “She’s trying to find purpose in something others find sad.” She stifles a giggle at his enthusiasm to try and engage. It’s sweet. “I’ll make a literary nerd of you yet.”

(Unbeknownst to them, the woman opposite is recording, and it will go viral on Twitter and TikTok later, but neither of them will care because they were so terribly happy in that moment.)

He giggled softly, his heart swelling with warmth, and gently strokes her hair, lost in the comforting silence and the harsh yet low light and the peaceful rhythm of their breaths.

She looked up to check when their stop is - not for another three - and contentedly pressed her lips to their joined hands while she continued to read. His eyes closed, breathing even, enjoying her touch. “It’s been a while since we had something like this,” he thought out loud, thinking of the preciousness of the moment. She nodded, thinking back to when last they were able to sit down and slow down in public, not for an hour or two and then him having to fly to another country - well, it kind of was - stealing hours away in their apartments.

“We could try and do it more often,” he said, but it was more of a wish. She looked up at him adoringly. “I know.”

He leaned down slightly, their faces close enough to feel each other’s breaths. His eyes locked onto hers as he spoke softly. “Just think of what else we could be doing in these quiet moments…”

She quietly gasped. “Charles!” He chuckled softly, unable to hide his amusement. He gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingertips trailing along her jawline softly. He leaned in even closer, sharing this moment with her.

The sound of their stop being announced interrupted it, and there was a hint of sadness on her face as she looked up at him.

He reluctantly pulled back, and followed her, filled with longing to stay on this train for as long as they could. As they walked, he quietly declined photos this time, because he senses she’s a little upset. They walk up the stairs, up into the light, and she pulls out her maps app to find which way they should be going.

Charles walked beside her, his hand slipping into hers instinctively, offering reassurance.

💌🎨☕️🎶

At the gallery, they enter and the woman at the front has her accent too - presumably because of this exhibition - and she gasped with delight, leaving her heavy heart behind, letting go of his hand to hug her, and he watched them interact while some people stared at him curiously.

His smile brightened as she started rambling on about her connection to this guy. He couldn’t help but have a sense of warmth for how animated she became around her roots.

She pulled back then, and wished the woman a goodbye, starting to look at this man’s life, from beginning to end. Charles leaned in close, his arm brushing against hers as he studied the paintings. He couldn’t help but be drawn to the presence she currently exuded - the warmth, the joy to be there. She studied a particular piece and gasped. “We had a copy of this at school! It’s a famous street in town.” She pulled out her phone to take a picture, fondness coating her expression.

He listened intently, his eyes scanning the painting as she spoke. The image of her, taking in this same art as she did now, made him wish that he could’ve experienced this with her then too. She held on to his arm, feeling oddly emotional, and they continued on, laughing at some sculpture.

His gaze never left her, his touch comforting. He savoured this moment - holding on to her, this feeling of being completely at home.

She reached to clutch her chest as an old man with graying hair came up to them. She let out a little breath that Charles recognised as one of awe - it had to be the artist.

The man recognised her accent and they hugged for a moment, and he could see the emotion in her eyes as they fell into that language he heard snippets of every now and then, and he envies this guy for a moment, conversing with her in a language he was desperate to learn, to know to be closer to her, and he can tell she’s going on about how precious this all is. The artist reached out to shake Charles’ hand, and with a quick correction from his girlfriend he falls easily into English.

His heart beating a little faster, he accepted the handshake and held onto it for a moment more than he thought he would. He listened to their conversation, determined to learn more about what made them come alive in such a way that made him wildly jealous. She swats his arm so he offers to take a picture of them, eyebrow raised at her fangirl behaviours, and he captures the moment of sheer joy.

The artist moved away, to greet other patrons, and she looked up at him in delight, with unspoken love. He couldn’t help but feel terribly drawn to her in that moment, their connection deepening.

“I love you.” She says, not quite believing what’s she’s just said - for the first time - and his breath caught. He reached out to touch her, to hold her hand.

She looked back at him, a tentative little smile on her face. His heart raced. He leaned in, his lips hovering just above hers.

“I love you too,” he said huskily, filled with emotion.

She kissed him softly, briefly, trying not to draw attention. His eyes flutter closed as their lips met, tenderly, passionately. Despite her attempt to keep it short, he cradled her face with his free hand, and his heart pounded as they pulled apart.

💌🎨☕️🎶

On the way out, they’re gifted with a quick sketch on some scrap paper - an old ticket? - by the old man; it’s of them, holding closely on to each other, staring at a painting. Her hair cascading and his shoulders broad - and now she’s fighting back tears as they study it together.

He gently wraps his arms around her, kissing her forehead softly, eyes brimming with tears he tries desperately to keep in. They leave after thanking the artist graciously, holding on to that picture tightly. “It’s perfect,” he whispers as she snaps a picture of his fingertips holding on to it. He slips it into his pocket, love radiating from his every pore as he looks at her.

In her head she thinks, we could show our kids that one day, and that makes her burst into tears, and his heart aches for her, pulling her into his arms. “It’s okay, my love.”

“I don’t want you to go tonight.” She says pitifully, and he rubs his hand up and down her back. “It’s alright,” he soothes her. They find a bench in a nearby park, and she tries to calm herself down, but the impending idea of him leaving for two months makes her cry even harder.

He murmurs something comforting as he wipes away her tears with his thumbs, caressing her face. The tender expression on his face makes her still, staring into his big eyes. “Today was so lovely. But darling… I can’t stand not seeing you until the end of the year.” She sniffles.

His heart ached as he pulled her in tightly, holding her close. “But you’re always with me, my love.” He pats his heart, and her tears slowly stop.

“You know, when we met, I never thought that someone could come into my life and make me love her so much to the point where I would do anything for her. But now…” he says softly, “But now that you’re here I can’t imagine living without you.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “Stop being so fucking sweet. I’ll cry again.”

He laughs. “I can’t resist the opportunity.”

She scoffs and hugs him again. He held her tight, heart beating wildly with love and desire, and trailed kisses down her jawline. “Fuck. I miss you so much already.”

She bit her lip.

💌🎨☕️🎶

“You know what would make me feel better?” He says, as they walk into her apartment building’s lobby, tracing a circle on her hipbone, “If you just text me every day. Even if it’s just to say hi.”

“Of course I will!” She looks at him, indignant. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her head.

“What time do you have to go?” She said softly, and he stared down at his watch as they walked into her apartment. “Two hours,” he said softly, and she stared up at him with an expression in her eyes that made him shiver.

She stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him, languidly sliding her hands along his neck, lips parted as she pulled away.

A desire prompted her to slide off her jersey, and his eyes were dark as he moved to pull off his clothes. She slid off her top, standing just in her bra, and he let out a sigh as he traced her collarbone, kissing her easily.

He slid the sketch out of his pocket and left it on a side table as he was left in his underwear, and she was pulling off her skirt and tights so they stood there on the wooden floor, desire coating their faces.

The sight of her nipples pressing through her lacy bra made him groan, and he felt himself hardening as he kissed her neck, sucking it that made him satisfied to pull away from with the knowledge that his marks would still be left for the next few days.

She felt herself heat up, her thighs clenching as he pressed her down onto the couch. He kissed the valley between her breasts as he slid off her bra, and she whined deliciously as he sucked her sensitive nipple. Kissing down towards her stomach, he slid off her panties, exposing her wetness to him, staring up at her needy face, biting his lip and feeling terribly turned on.

He tentatively began to press his nose into her pussy as he began to lick her, and she was making sounds that had him a little shaky, his thumb tracing tiny, light circles on her clit while she moaned in pleasure.

She stared down at him, hands laced in his fluffy hair, and she could already feel how wet she was, rutting a little into his face which made him groan.

His desperate eyes made her nod, so she sat up while he took his aching cock out of his boxers, and her lips parted a little as she stared at the look of need on his face.

She leaned in to kiss him, his one hand pumping his cock and the other rubbing her nipple, and she arched into him as he pushed into her. Their eyes fluttered shut in pleasure, and she began to ride him, them both letting out little moans, and as he began to hit certain spots inside her she was pleading for things she didn’t know, her head everywhere but no where, feeling herself edge closer.

“So fucking hot,” he breathed, and tried to kiss her but they both moaned loudly at one particular stroke, so they just kept going, him becoming faster and his fingers pressing at her clit; she felt deliciously warm and desperate to cum, so she rode him a little faster, their hips rolling in unison, and she let out little sighs as his fingers began to circle her roughly, clenching him so he moaned.

“Cum for me,” he breathed, and she grinded against him, expression contorting to one of pure ecstasy as she began to reach the edge. He stopped for a second, becoming still, and she nearly screamed with protest, and with a smirk he let her continue. “Brat,” he whispered, and she let out a moan.

They breathily began to cum together, her breaths becoming erratic, his thumb making it nearly impossible to think.

As he came inside her, thick and warm, she came, shaking on his cock. “Fuck,” she whispered, and they were lying there, enjoying the pure pleasure of their bodies together.

💌🎨☕️🎶

“Goodbye, mon amour,” he breathed, and her messy hair and just her in a sweater of his made it so much worse. “Love you.” She said hoarsely. His arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly against him. He took a deep breath.

He pulled away slowly, gazing into her eyes. Her eyes followed him as he turned to leave. He took a last look at her, and stepped out the door.

💌🎨☕️🎶

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#f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 #f1 x reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc angst #f1 smut

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kaicubus · 1 year

Text

Art Block | Xavier T.

warnings ✩° : smut, thigh riding, making out, being manhandled, non-intercourse sex, light cursing, pretty tame in terms of degradation and praise.

pairing ✩° : xavier thorpe x fem!reader, all characters are of age aka 18+

premise ✩° : as an artist, sometimes stress becomes a blockage to create. some may say artists need a bit of relief from that.

word count ✩° : 2.4k

authors note ✩° : hi hi!! i hope everyone had a safe and happy new years, heres my gift to you bc i know all of you THIRST over this man just like i do, so heres to a prosperous, healthy, happy new year!!

Making art has always been such an easy task for you. It comes as if it were second nature to illustrate vibrant landscapes and realistic portraits. You're a god at your craft, anyone could tell. Just like you, however, your boyfriend Xavier was the same. Though, like any artist, he occasionally got art block and soon became frustrated with his inability to create art like you.

At times, he resented you for it. Skill and talent came so easy to you after all, so it was hard not to scowl when he was lacking and felt inferior. But Xavier loves you regardless. It’s just that sometimes he wanted to closely observe how you managed to pull it off.

That brings you to now, locked in Xavier’s art shed with no one but him and his black smog surrounding his head, a vivid image of his stress of not producing any art for the past two weeks. Your eyes, glued onto your boyfriend who every now and then would chew on his lip or nails, still failing to even put a splotch of paint on the pristine, white surface in front of him.

You can tell he’s struggling. However, unsure as to what to do to help, you remain quiet. Usually, the answer to Xavier’s small pouts and quiet stares is easy to figure out, let alone fix, but this time, artist to artist, it was a little more complex than that. Still, you wanted to help as much as possible, even if that meant staying with him for a few more hours.

Suddenly, an irritated sigh breaks your thought process and you look up at the source.

“Xavier when are you going to stop sulking and actually do something?” You groan as well.

Your boyfriend’s brows arch downwards, softly adjacent to his slightly cracked, wet lips parted to reveal the tips of his top teeth. His expression of dazed shock makes you laugh. “I’m sorry, was there something you had in mind of me doing to get rid of this art block? Perhaps, I don’t know, not verbally assaulting me every few seconds?” He cracks a lighthearted grin.

“Oh come on,” You lean on your open palm and smile, “No art is bad art, unless you know, it’s traced...or completely ripped off...or it’s corporate art.”

“Y/n.”

“Sorry, sorry. But whatever you do is going to be great, so just create already! I’m this close to getting some food and coming back, I feel like it’s going to be a while which I’m ready to stand by for.”

With a swift hand, Xavier runs his fingers through his hair and ties his loose, long locks into a messy ponytail. Watching him is somewhat mesmerizing, maybe because his hair is so soft and so long, effortlessly healthy, and his fingers are so slender and...before you know it his hair is already put up. Xavier presses his lips together and raises his brows, letting out a soft breath of air.

“You know,” Xavier starts, leaning back on his palms and looking towards your direction, “It’s hard to focus when you’re looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” You reply, cluelessly, “What am I doing? I’m just watching.”

“Yeah. Watching.” He clears his throat free from built up stress and gives you a small grin, “Why don’t you come over here instead of looking like a creep?” It’s a joke, but part of it was true since your posture was similar to a crunched up creep, hugging your knees to your chest on a bar stool, surrealistically misplaced in the middle of the entire shed just watching your boyfriend struggle to meet his paintbrush to the canvas.

“Well I don’t want to mess you up. I’ll stay right here.”You point down.

Xavier sighs and shakes his head, turning now to face you completely, “Y/n I’ll focus better if you come and sit by me. Maybe then we can get out of here. I mean, you’re welcome to leave if you really want to. It might take a while.”

“No no, I want to stay. Maybe you just need some motivation? A muse? Some music to inspire you? I always listen to music when I draw, and it works.”

Your smile makes his eyebrows twitch into a thoughtful expression. Instead of taking your advice of music or having a muse, he gets another idea and puts his paintbrush down. Maybe you’re right. Maybe he just needs the motivation.

“You know what would actually help me?” Xavier nibbles on his bottom lip slightly and looks down, “If you…”

You watch as Xavier taps the tops of his thighs and looks at you with a muffled grin.

“Sit here?” He says finally, a hidden excitement changes his face and causes him to look away for a split second, then back with a more calm aura. He’s trying so badly to contain himself, but you know him too well to carelessly glaze over it, so you decide to tease him a bit.

“Why? Is this motivation for you? Or do you just want to procrastinate?” You smile and stand up from your stool, making your way over to your boyfriend slowly.

“I just thought,” he chuckles breathlessly, “Maybe having you here will turn the gears in my head or something.” His half minded suggestion makes your chest flutter.

“Oh yeah? Really. Is that it?” You sit down on top of Xavier’s lap and wrap your legs perfectly around his waist, “I wouldn’t mind if it were for something else.”

“Not necessarily...”

“Hm?” you hum warmly and gently touch the back of his neck, sending an unexpected shiver down Xavier’s spine, “Not necessarily?”

There was always a feeling of bubbling confidence inside you whenever you knew there was something Xavier wanted. Maybe it’s the specific glint in his big, hazel eyes as he looks up into yours that sends your senses fuzzy and hinders your thought process, but in the next moment you know, your lips are on his and his hands find their rightful place, hugging your hips and digging into your thighs.

With a snug fit, squeezing both legs around his singular one, you situate yourself to where the middle of your legs is properly sat on his thigh. The position is almost natural by the way you seemingly snap onto him as if you were a rubber band reverting back to its meant to be place. Xavier grins a bit into your pliant mouth, making his way onto your tongue with short and abrupt licks.

Desperate to please him and find release yourself, your body starts moving on its own, hips rutting against the roughness of his jeans. Pressing the growing heat surging between your legs onto Xavier’s cold thigh sends an mellow shiver in your system, allowing you to go faster to warm your seat for all the comfort you can get.

Much to his pleasure, Xavier’s mouth stretches out into a thin and permissive smile, unable to hide his satisfaction any longer. Soon enough, mumbles of praise fall just beneath his breath in drawn out, low whispers.

“That’s it,” Xavier says deeply, tickling the raised hair on your neck, “Keep going.”

Following his words, you stuff your face deeper into the fabric of his hoodie and tangle your fingers in the strings, knotting your joints into the ropes for any sort of stability. Your desperation only makes him smile more, biting his tongue in secret as he looks around, happy and content with how he’s able to make such a mess out of you by just getting off on his thigh. Let alone his own words and guidance.

Xavier lowers his big hands to cusp the very edge of your ass, giving it a tight squeeze to earn another breathless moan from you. As if your senses are heightened to their max potential, every feather like touch drives you crazier by the second.

Attempting to catch your breath, you sink your teeth into your boyfriend’s hoodie, using the softness as a means to suppress your mewls of arousal as best as you can. But as he continues to massage your hips and manually move you back and forth on his leg, the effort quickly becomes useless.

“W-Wait a second, Xav—IER!” You're cut off by a blunt force nearly punching your gut, rendering you speechless and sending your hips stuttering. Almost as if he knows, Xavier grins and continues to grind your hips down on a newfound sensitive spot, eager to abuse it more.

“Does that feel good?” Xavier questions, pressing his mouth against the side of your face, “There? Right here?”

You want to speak, but the feeling that rolls inside of your body, moving your muscles to keep rubbing yourself on him doesn't allow you too. Instead, you try again to slow down, this time hoping to go unnoticed by Xavier as you hide your advances with deeper strokes. It doesn't go unnoticed though.

“Huh? No, no, Y/n why are you slowing down?” He leans down and runs the tips of his teeth along the outer shell of your ear once he feels your momentum slow. “You tired?” Xavier chuckles deeply, his condescending tone only making you more weak and immobile.

“X-Xavier it’s too much,” you whimper and grip onto his arm, “I can’t.”

“Can’t? You're really that sensitive you need a break? Come on, I know you can do better than that.”

You shudder in response and find your pace again, faster and longer, continuing to knead yourself against the fabric of his pants. Just as you think there might be a chance you'll get a break, Xavier suddenly picks up his leg and starts bouncing it up and down, moving his head down to see your flushed expression.

Just as he’d imagined, your lips are well parted and your face, well reddened from all the embarrassment and teasing he’s putting you through. For a second, you glance up and meet his gaze, only able to make out his smug yet curious face before you slam your face back into his shoulder and let out a loud moan of ecstasy in response to his bouncing.

“A-Ah, yeah. Does it feel good this way? Better?” Xavier’s breath tickles your ear, reminding you just how close he is.

If this was his way of torturing you, he was sure milking every opportunity of making your life hell. It was working. And he loved it. You pick your head up groggily from his chest and lock eyes with your almost sadistic looking boyfriend and exhale hesitantly, unable to breathe smoothly.

“M-Mhm...It feels so good, Xavier...please don’t s-stop!” You grit your teeth as soon as he hears the words and grips onto your hips roughly, “Hngh!”

”Don’t stop?” Xavier coos, “I’m barely doing anything. I can do more if you really want, if it’ll help you get off faster.”

You didn’t need anything else, you just needed a bit more time. But you didn’t want to just tell him that and feed into his slowly growing hungered desires. The look in his eyes as they burned into your being was hard enough to deal with as it is, what more could he do? Much more, actually. But you two are on a time crunch, as a reminder of your surroundings and the start of the whole thing, Xavier’s paintbrush falls off its uneven platform and startles both you and him.

“Fuck.” Your boyfriend curses quietly, “I can’t focus on that right now.” Knowing you're so close to release makes his patience run thin, and just as you can’t wait for much longer, he can’t either.

Suddenly, Xavier jerks his hips up, catching you off guard and making you cry out instantly, unprepared to counter the pressure pushing up onto your sore cunt. His moment of vigorous movement causes you to fall onto his chest and hold onto Xavier’s arms.

“AHN!” Your head instinctively gets thrown back from all the built up pleasure and finally, you feel your entire body tremble with an immense jittering feeling. Xavier only helps you ride out your orgasm and holds you in place, making small ruts against himself with your spastic thighs gripping around him tighter.

“S-Shit. Oh my God—” He hugs you close and locks his lips over yours, biting down on your bottom lip just enough to secure you in place and refusing to let go. Even though his shed is in the forest away from most people, there’s something inside of him, something possessive, that only wants all the noises you make to be heard by him and him only.

You whine into his mouth and buck against him again and again, making sure to make your orgasm count. Little whimpers fill his throat and he only hums back with a shit eating grin on his face.

When he finally pulls away from you, he watches as a string of saliva breaks and falls against your lips, but you're too tired to wipe your mouth. Xavier opens his mouth and lets out a soft breath of a mixture of pity and laughter seeing you so fucked out and blissfully numb.

“That was so fucking cute, holy shit.” He gives you a toothy grin and swipes his thumb over your swollen and wet lips, moving his attention to your wide and teary eyes once they're dry and still just as soft as they were before when his lips were on yours.

“Ah, hah, ha...” Your relaxation comes out in the form of several pants. As your chest heaves, Xavier just stares at you, softly reassuring you as he combs his fingers through your shirt and up your back.

His soft touches are more than enough to comfort you, but he continues, “So so so good for me...” He glances down at you and grins, “Yeah, good girl.”

Xavier pulls away, looking at your red and sweaty face as well as your equally drenched thighs, grinning at how much your body irks forward and lurches back to the slightest movement of his arms snaking around your sides. The sight of your lips, wet with drool and your eyes, soaked in a slight film of tears pleases him, playing a grin upon his own lips. Before you could question what he was thinking, Xavier’s eyes flicker from your face down to your lower half, your position, your fluttering feeling on his leg. Something about it all made it able for the gears in Xavier’s tortured artist mind to finally spin.

You looked stunning, the perfect picture, and just what he needed to see in order to finally step out of his artist block. If he said otherwise, he’d be lying through his teeth.

Just as he rubs your back fondly, tenderly, and warmly, Xavier kisses your shoulder and drags the tip of his finger along the arch of your back. “Don’t move, I have an idea for a painting.”

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe fanfic #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe x you #x reader #wednesday series #wednesday imagine #wednesday fanfiction #Wednesday #xavier thorpe smut #smut #smut fanfiction #kaicubus

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bluessmutifyplaylist · 5 months

Note

(Horny Round 2!!!)

Reader is a burlesque dancer, cuz they got mouths to feed, and Old Man Lilia gives them a proposition: put on a show for him and his boys so they can learn how to best please their future lovers. Voyeurism, corruption kink, Daddy Lilia~

Characters are aged up!! I based it off of this YouTube video as well as a few pole-dancing videos.

Warnings: Reader is not Yuu, AFAB but with GN pronouns, corruption kink, voyeurism, pole dancing, strip teasing, lap dance, dry humping, foursome, penetrative (p in v) sex, corruption of the future king and his knights, jerking Sebek and Silver off, overstimulation, creampie(s), blowjob(s)

Diasomnia

There was a dancing troupe coming to the Briar Valley, and they came around annually in the summer because it gave the citizens something to look forward to. Well, it wasn’t just the dancing troupe. It was an entire fair, but the dancing was the main show. During the day, the dances were all child-friendly, and the children were even allowed to hop up on the stage sometimes to join the dancers.

However, after the clock struck 8:30 PM, the doors were closed for children, and the dancers went into their dressing rooms and brought out the more… provocative… outfits. This was a time for an adult audience, and maybe a few teenagers in the older margin who managed to sneak in somehow.

You were with your girls in the back, making sure that your red lipstick was applied pristinely. You had large feathered fans, and a rather revealing outfit that was covered up a bit with a tutu. Your fellow dancers were all hyping each other up, and you saw one of them slap another on the ass as she went on stage, saying go get ‘em, tiger! It made you laugh… until the matron of the troupe called your name.

Getting up from your seat, you walked over, fans in hand, nervous that you were going to get fired. This entire fair was your livelihood. If you were to be let go, not only would you suffer, but so would the family members you’ve been sending money to. Your heart was racing as you walked up to the matron, heels clacking against the floor.

“Y/N, someone has requested our best dancer for a large sum of money. I know the financial situation you are in and you are the first that came to mind. Plus, you are one of our finest dancers, so I am giving you the option, should you accept, to give our esteemed guests a private show.”

“Madame, I don’t mean to sound selfish or money-obsessed, but how-”

“They are offering 1 million thaumarks, and I have the check in this envelope right here,” She held up an envelope, emphasizing that this was real and not a joke. Then, she brought her arm back down, and extended it to you. “You don’t need to have sex with them, but the… leader?... of the group wanted for them to have an experience with something so informal as the fair.”

“Umm…” This was probably the biggest decision of your life. 1 million thaumarks?! There was no way that you were going to pass that up. So, you nodded your head, “Yes, I will do it.”

“Good! This is yours, then! They will be in Room 1 in about 45 minutes. Your routine should be fine, as the man said he wanted it to be ‘culturally enlightening’.” She then walked off, and you were left staring at the envelope now in your hands.

“Holy fu-”

~~~~~~~~

In the aforementioned room, 4 men were sitting, discussing the plan for the evening. Three of them had no idea what was going to happen, while the ‘leader’ was explaining everything.

“Alright, boys. As you know, this is not a children’s show. However, I wanted you to learn something about the art of burlesque dancing. It’s quite sensual, but it gives power to the performer because they have the audience in their hands just with the way they move.”

“LILIA-SAMA, I AM GRATEFUL THAT YOU HAVE GIVEN US THIS EDUCATIONAL OPPORTUNITY, BUT I FAIL TO SEE WHY THIS WOULD BE IMPORTANT!” Sebek was immediately shushed, being told that he needed to keep the volume of his voice down.

“Well, it will teach-” Lilia was cut off by the room going dark. The thing about these rooms was that they were really smaller-scale tents behind the large one. In addition to that, the small tents had platforms in the middle of them for the dancer, along with a pole.

Spotlights came on, highlighting you and your large fans. You were wearing a bustier, corset, panties, and a tutu, and you were wearing bright red lipstick as well as elbow-length gloves. Your heels sparkled in the light. You bent down, one leg in front of the other, using one fan to cover your rear end and the other to point at your outstanding foot.

“Hello, boys~” Your voice said. Then, the music started up, and you started to dance. Sharply moving your hips up and down, making sure that your toes were always pointed so that your legs looked longer. You could feel their hungry gazes on you, and you smiled as you reached your hands behind you, going to untie the tutu.

Shimmying it down your waist, you could tell who the leader was. You know he had been at previous adult shows, as his pink hair was hard to miss. However, based on the reactions of the one with light green hair and the one with silver hair, you guessed that this was the first adult show they had been to. You were happy to be their first. As for the one with the horns, you could see that he was genuinely interested in the art as well as you.

Once it was off, you threw it like a frisbee to the man with green hair. You smiled and winked at him as his face was glowing an even brighter red. Truly, his face would put your red lipstick to shame.

You then turned to the silver-haired one and ushered him over to the stage. You turned around, making sure to bend over as much as you could, and then you asked if he could untie your corset. He nodded his head and went to untie it, struggling a little because his hands were shaking. You heard the ‘leader’ shout something.

“Let him take it off of you!”

Smiling, you looked at the man and he was also frozen in place. Did you really have that effect on men?

Whispering, you asked, “Would you like to help me take it off?” You giggled as he nodded, pulling at the strings pair by pair, and you worked on unclasping the front of it. Once it was off, you threw it to the horned man while placing a rather passionate kiss on the silver-haired man’s lips. Breaking apart, you saw that you left red lipstick on his lips, but you gently pushed him back in his seat.

Standing back up, you headed to the pole. You weren’t as advanced in pole dancing as some of your fellow dancers, but you did know how to do the basics. You grabbed the pole, pulling your body to it, slowly sliding down, placing your fans down on the ground. Once you were squatting down, you started grinding against the pole. You stood back up slowly, locking eyes with the leader, and then you sauntered over to him after picking up one of your fans.

Straddling him, you threw your arms around his neck and he placed his hands upon your hips gently, making sure you aren’t feeling pressured to do anything you don’t want to. You placed a kiss on his lips this time, making sure to rub your clothed regions against his growing boner. For him being a rather small man, you could tell that he definitely had a disproportionate size, but it just further served to arouse you.

This small group of men was different from others you have danced for. They appreciated your art, and they weren’t groping you in a way that made you uncomfortable. They allowed you to go to them first, and you loved it. You stood up, repositioning yourself in a reverse cowgirl position, and leaned back into him. He placed kisses upon the crook of your neck, and you used your fan to cover up the way you were grinding back down on him.

You can’t remember a time where you felt genuine pleasure from one of these dances, but you felt yourself growing wet as you continued your actions. You felt one of his hands slowly reach up to cup your bra-clad breast and one reach down to your panties, giving you a chance to stop him, but you didn’t. You instead tossed away your fan so that the other guys could see what was going on.

“Call me ‘Lilia’, love~” He whispered into your ear before using his fangs to bite into your neck. There was a bit of pain, but pleasure soon followed, and it wasn’t enough to draw blood anyway. Otherwise, you might have guessed he was a vampire.

“Call me ‘Y/N’,” You whispered back, letting out a gasp when he started rubbing your clit. His other hand went under your bra and he started fondling your breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. You looked back at the other men and you were surprised to see them drawing closer.

“Alright, Y/N. I wanted you here because I want to teach these boys how to pleasure somebody. However, I need verbal consent,” He said louder, stopping what he was doing so that you could answer.

“You have my consent, Lilia,” Upon saying that, he immediately shoved a finger into your awaiting pussy, making you moan at the sudden intrusion. You could feel his finger curling and moving inside of you, and you simply wanted more.

As your hips rolled to try and get more friction, you ended up rubbing more and more against his erection, making him groan.

“So wet for me~” He snickered, looking at your little audience, “Boys, you never want to just go right ahead and stick your dick inside someone without a little bit of preparation and foreplay. After all, you want them to be aroused and participating.

That’s another thing: basic consent and participation. Depending on what you are into, all parties involved must be participating and making sure it is a pleasurable experience for those involved.

Please stand up, love.”

You followed his orders, saddened that he took his hands out of your bra and panties. Then, you heard his belt unbuckle and his pants slide down, and you felt your underwear slide down your legs. The cold air hits your exposed regions like a block of ice, making you shudder. It didn’t go unnoticed by anybody in the tent.

“Now you may sit back down,” Lining up your entrance with the tip of his cock, he put his hands on your hips to guide you. Feeling him fill you up finally could have made you cum alone, but his size made your eyes roll back in pleasure. You tried covering your mouth to block any moans from coming out, but his hand blocked yours. “Let those pretty noises out, dearie. These boys need to learn what pleasure sounds like.”

Nodding, you put your hand back down as he started to guide you up and down on his cock.

Oh, oh, ohhh’s enunciated each drop down, with an occasional fuckkkk. You didn’t even notice the silver and green-haired knights get close and right next to you, unbuckling their pants as well.

“Y/N, you wouldn’t mind giving these guys a bit of the pleasure you’re feeling, would you?” You looked to see them with their dicks out, and you quickly reached out your arms and hands to start jerking them off. The horned man continued watching you all, a smirk on his face.

Up, down, up, down, up, down. Your hips went up and down on Lilia’s member, your hands went up and down on the knights’ cocks, the horned man’s eyes went up and down following you. Every single time Lilia hit that special spot inside of you, you squeezed on the dicks in your hands, making the two men groan.

The man with bright green hair had already came, and now he was just a tad sensitive. You guessed he was at least part fae based on his fangs, so his durability had to be amazing. If you were being honest, you were not far behind, and you found your climax washing over you as you slumped, but your eyes snapped open when Lilia kept thrusting up into you.

“You didn’t think I was done… did you? Neither are any of these fine gentlemen. Tell me, Y/N, where do you want me to cum?”

“I-Inside… Please, please, please inside!” You cried, and you had felt another orgasm wash over you as he came inside of you. You were panting, feeling the warmth of his cum painting your walls white.

“I would be willing to have a turn with them, Lilia,” The horned man said, and his height intimidated you. The dick imprint that you could see against his pants intimidated you as well. However, you found yourself somehow getting aroused again, and, stumbling, you walked over to him.

With a snap of his fingers, you saw that his pants were off and folded neatly on the side. His size was unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. To be fair, it’s not like you slept around, but you have had a few flings here and there in the different places you performed. No beastmen could come close to comparing.

“I’m aware I’m… better endowed than most. If you wish, I could prepare you more-”

“That isn’t going to be necessary, sir. I think I’m ready.” You really need to think about what you say before you say it, but you just couldn’t wait to have that absolute monster inside of you. You decided that you would straddle him, cowgirl-style, so that you could work at your own pace.

However, he had other plans.

Placing his hands on your hips, he shoved you all the way down, and tears leaked from your eyes. You groaned in both pain and pleasure, burying your head in his shoulder, adjusting to his size.

“Tell me when you want to start moving.” It took a few moments, but you eventually nodded and he began moving you up and down again. Luckily, he had strength to do it for you entirely, as your legs gave up.

“Do you think you could bend backwards enough to suck this young man off?” Lilia asked. Being a dancer granted you a level of flexibility that actually allowed you to do this. You leaned back as far as you could, just to be met with the silver-haired man’s cock.

Oh, yeah… he hasn’t cum yet, you realized. Opening your mouth, he slid the tip in. It was quite unusual to be giving a blowjob in this position, but you were always down to be a bit more adventurous in such activities. His size was the smallest in this group of men, but it still wasn’t anything to laugh at.

“Oh, fuck…” The man muttered under his breath. What you couldn’t see was that as he was thrusting into your throat slowly, there was a bit of a bulge. Your mouth was so warm. You moaned around his dick, adding even more stimulation. On your left, Lilia and the green-haired man were each stroking themselves, watching you get absolutely railed by these two men.

Earlier that day, your matron said you didn’t have to have sex with them. Lilia even told you that you could tell them to stop. However, they were both wrong. You did have to have sex with them, and you couldn’t tell them to stop. If you turned this down, you might have to have yourself committed to a mental asylum because no one in their right mind would turn down an opportunity like this.

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dqrciedaily · 16 days

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baby arsenal headcannons, arsenal wfc x teen!reader

a/n: i am so so so sorry that this isn’t an actual fic but i’ve left yous without anything for like two weeks so take this 🥰🥰🥰

warning - this isn’t proofread so pls ignore any mistakes x

1. she is maths no.1 public enemy - literally will stare at her homework for two hours instead of actually trying it. then the next day at school she gets in trouble for not doing it but she genuinely couldn’t care less because she’d rather have them email lia than try do trigonometry

2. her tiktok reposts and twitter likes have fans speculating like there is no tomorrow - she’s definitely liked transfer rumours on twitter before as well as reposting things she shouldn’t be and she reposts things that happened way back way but people think it’s about her current situation, leading to some very concerned fans in her tiktok comments and instagram requests.

3. baby girl has stina and laura wrapped around her finger - she’s cold? stina’s gonna give her the jumper she’s wearing. she’s hungry? laura’s up to make her something to eat, even though maus is perfectly capable of doing it herself. they’re basically on her beck and call.

4. she always curses out players in german on the pitch - when she was younger her brothers taught her the art of cursing people out in german then speaking in english to confuse them. however this did not work when arsenal played chelsea and she went flying after a tackle from nüsken, who very obviously understands german, leading to maus getting a yellow.

5. which leads to the next point which is that she gets her fair share of yellows - giving katie a run for her money, although most of hers come from back chatting the ref and not from actual gameplay, although she isn’t afraid to put in a heavy tackle here and there.

6. her + kyra = little shits on steroids - on the first media day of the season they decided to put y/n and kyra in three of the same interviews, let’s just say absolutely nothing productive happened until caitlin had to come in to do an interview with the two of them.

7. she’s lia’s no.1 reason for her early gray hairs - firstly maus is awful at answering phone calls, so if she’s out with her friends and lia needs something best believe she cannot contact her. secondly the amount of emails the school sends her may send lia into overdrive, she genuinely couldn’t care less if y/n didn’t do her homework as long as she’s passing all her classes, which she is (besides math but lia doesn’t need to know that.)

8. y/n has the best outfits - her instagram feed is filled with mirror pics of her outfits and they’re all just so good!!! she’s known for her fashionable clothes throughout the woso community.

9. she gets really really really nervous when doing interviews by herself - she already refuses to do orals in school because they stress her out too much, so after her first full 90 for arsenal she gets called to do an interview and poor girl is swaying from side to side the entire time, stumbling over her words and overall looking like a deer caught in headlights.

10. the first time she brings a girl or boy home lia gets a group of the girls to pretend they’re over for dinner without telling y/n - so then when y/n gets home she sees most of her teammates there and very hastily shoves her ‘friend’ upstairs, before going over to the girls who all tease her. then when she’s upstairs in her room with her ‘friend’ they all take turns coming upstairs to walk past the closed door to hear what they’re talking about.

11. she is a hugger of note - the first time she meant all the girls minus her shy demeanour she hugged every single teammate she met. she is also a massive cuddler, on the team bus she makes ours sit in the window seat (much to the brunettes complains) then uses kyra as a pillow which 1. forces kyra to be quiet because she doesn’t want to wake y/n and 2. she can’t move around the bus as she wants deciding to annoy everyone which the other girls are very thankful for.

12. her first crush on a girl was laura freigang, who she had seen around the german youth camps before - she even told her parents at one stage that she was going to go to penn state just like lau did but that phase was short lived when she then developed a crush on one of her teammates in her age group instead.

13. in another life she’s a dj who lives in ibiza - literally no explanation needed, she truly is a party animal at heart and would go to all the festivals and raves possible during the off season.

#darcie’s drabbles #woso x reader #woso imagine #arsenal wfc #arsenal wfc x reader

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justheblueberry · 6 months

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handbinding of A Study in Scarlette by kittebasu

There are people who want to live forever, and then there is Shinichi, who just wants to live a little longer than this.

this bind has been in my head since i first read the fic like, three years ago. i dreamed up so many ideas for it, for so long, and now it's finally done! the typeset was actually done in early 2022, back when i was still using google docs, but it went through a few iterations because i was just. so. fiddly. with every aspect of this book. it needed to be perfect (as close to perfect as i, an amateur bookbinder out of my depth, can get) and it had to be absolutely over the top, to reflect the insane amount of love and care that the author put into the fic itself.

the first time i read this fic, i barely knew what detective conan was, much less all of the intricate plot details; i was just along for the ride, but by the end i was completely invested. i went back and watched through the anime as well as a few movies (it took me six months) and then read the fic again. and then a few more times. kaishin and the world of dcmk has utterly gripped me. it's 100% this fic's fault and i love it so, so, much.

i went through a few iterations of visual designs and i'm really happy with the little details i managed to squeeze in.

the entire color scheme is based around red, because 1) it's a murder mystery, 2) for scarlette shinamoto (and the title of the fic as well as the original holmes novel it references), and 3) the irony of "lady red" actually being red. the secret fourth reason is that i think red/gold is a super sexy color combo.

i sewed the textblock with red thread to reference holmes' "scarlet thread of murder".

another detail i love is the five yen coin bookmark, it was one of my first ideas and it turned out even better than i thought.

i wanted the endpapers to evoke a sense of the white marbled floor of the ballroom, with the glow-in-the-dark kaitou kid caricature being the luminol on the floor, and the little pops of red looks like blood that's been mixed in. i lucked out in that the other side of the endpaper was like a lavender-purpley color, i like to think of it as a little wink wink nudge to the color of the actual Lady Red.

the chapter pages got a few reworkings, but i'm happy with the illustrations i ended up doing for each of them. the chapter titles are one of my favorite things about the fic, each one has so much meaning packed into it and flows so beautifully, and i wanted to put as much care into making them pop as possible.

the cover was a linocut carving i designed and carved, which i then printed onto the bookcloth, and ironed on htv on top.

i also threw in a couple of my drawings of my favorite scenes.

this is getting way too long, so i'll end it here. i'll have a separate post detailing the process every step of the way, if anyone wants to take a closer look. this fic is kind of directly responsible for getting me into fanbinding, so it's safe to say it altered the course of my life. i now spend way too much time (and money) looking at book stuff.

kittebasu, if, somehow, you see this and would like an author copy, i would be honored to make one and ship it to you; i would be overjoyed to gift you with any art i have the ability to make, because the fics you wrote have irreversibly altered my brain chemistry, and being able to give back in any capacity would be a dream. (thank you.)

a few postscripts:

i am not selling any copies of this fic. partially because i believe in the gift economy of fandom as well as firmly keeping fanbinding a hobby that will stay unmonetized, but also because it took me months (years, if we are counting when i first finished the typeset) to finish this and i do not have the strength.

however, if you are also a fan of this fic and would like a copy, i honestly, fervently, encourage you to give fanbinding a try! renegade publishing and its discord server are an absolutely wonderful and free resource. i knew nothing about bookbinding and had zero materials when i first started, but i've learned so much thanks to the lovely people there. if you're still apprehensive about getting started, i'd be willing to share my typeset of this fic as well as answer any questions about the making of this book if you DM me.

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