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lunargrapejuice · 1 month

Note

Luna this isn’t a request per say just me filled with unbridled lust for Diluc…….but think about him losing his virginity to you where you sit on the bar at the Angels Share after closing jdhdhxhdh

he is such a sweetheart and gentleman but, he just couldn’t wait any longer to sink his big cock into his beloved right there aahh ♥️ ꒰ ′̥̥̥ ⌑ ‵̥̥̥ ꒱

oh my lordddd gray😭🩷 this.. im totally normal about it - i'm going to go cry over him now🤭❤️

diluc ragnvindr x afab!reader | 3.5k+ words

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, virigin!diluc, sappy love making i couldn't help myself, no pronouns used for reader though reader is wearing a dress

“are you sure there’s nothing i can help with?” you ask diluc with a bit of a pout as he helps you up onto the counter behind the bar on the spot he had wiped down for you. the spot you were becoming more and more familiar with each day you visited angels share to come see him and stayed till past closing time.

you know how stubborn your boyfriend is when it comes to doing things himself but helping close up the tavern didn’t have to be one of them. you really didn’t mind helping and yet, like each time you’ve offered before, a smile with his soft expression and a shake of his head before he leans in to kiss your cheek and decline your offer.

“i won’t be long,” he promises, the warmth of his lips on your skin when he presses them on your cheek at the same time his hands help tug down the hem of your dress and keep you covered.

his touch lingers as though he hadn’t wanted to pull away and truthfully, he hadn’t. his heart had been beating out of sync ever since you walked through the doors of the tavern and even when he thought it was finally getting back to normal, you would laugh or call his name and he would feel the uncontrollable fluter in his chest. and archons when his eyes betrayed him and he caught more than a few glances of your bare thighs under the hem of your dress and the soft skin of your chest where it dips in a perfect display of your chest, heat spread through his entire body like wildfire.

it lingers still at the swipe of his thumbs on your thighs, leather covered fingers barely sliding under the fabric of your dress, before he forces himself to pull away and hurry upstairs to clean up.

you swing your legs back and forth and listen to the familiar boot steps of diluc from upstairs, feeling your skin still tingle from where he had touched you and the way you ache for more. it wasn’t a new feeling when it came to diluc but you swore it was growing more every day.

it’s not long before he returns to behind the bar with glasses in his hands, placing them in the sink not far from you and you stare at him for far longer than you should, drinking in every bit of him; the way his hair cascades down his broad shoulders and back like a crimson waterfall, collected in a dark ribbon. the curve of his nose and lips that you want to kiss every inch of. the stretch of the fabric of his outfit around his muscular build as he moves and flexes. the band around his thigh that peeks out from behind his coat when he walks.

diluc can feel your eyes on him but it’s not as though he could say he didn’t understand, though it didn’t stop his cheeks from warming. you had always caught his attention. before and after you promised yourself to him, he could not take his eyes off of you and if anything, it had only grown since he became yours. even from the second floor only minutes ago, he stole many glances at you patiently waiting for him and picked up his pace to help ease the want for you that he feels in every fiber of his being.

and perhaps he should have known the danger of indulging in it before he was finished closing. just a bit, he told himself with the step he took that brought him between your legs, but there was nothing within him that could settle for ‘just a bit’ when everything he felt for you burned more intensely than the flames of his vision and the pyro archon herself.

your skin glows under the warm light of the tavern and he catches the sparkle in your eye, the smile on your face, before you’ve captured him in a sweet kiss and his lashes flutter closed at the feeling of his lips on yours. it’s perfect. you’re perfect and he can’t believe you’ve chosen him out of everyone in teyvat but you have long been burned into his very soul and he never ever wants to let you go.

it’s an overwhelming feeling that makes it near impossible to pull away from you at this moment, not that he wants to. no, he needs more of you. always more until he worries his love might devour you both but you have never been afraid, not of his flames or the darkness that follows him and certainly not of the ways he shows you how he feels about you.

strong hands come to rest on your sides, gently squeezing you with the break and reconnection of your lips but they move to your back when diluc deepens the kiss, passionate and heart stopping, your bum moving along the fabric of your dress as he pulls you flush against him and in turn you wrap your arms around his neck.

he groans low, like he was trying to swallow it, when your thighs flex around his torso at the touch of your tongues and his grip on you tightens, somehow trying to pull you away and closer to him at the same time. it’s too much and not enough and even if it felt like it might kill him to part from you right now, if he doesn’t stop himself -

“‘luc-” your voice is breathless, barely audible through your kisses and joined by an involuntary rock of your hips against his that makes him suck in a quick breath, one large hand coming to grip your hip and still your movements.

resting his forehead on yours, trying to take in a breath to calm himself, he replies in a whisper of your name, his voice thick and heavy with not want but need. nothing is helping bring him from this place of burning desire and love. every breath he takes is full of your sweet scent and what lingers of the non alcoholic drink he made you tonight. underneath his palms is only you, your softness and warmth that's like pure sunlight rather than any flames he’s known. the taste of you is on his tongue and his kiss swollen lips and you fit perfectly against him with your hips still flush, the pressure of his cock straining against his pants and trying to avoid the most intimate part of you even though it’s hard, so fucking hard, only for you.

his cheeks burn, his heart thumping so loudly he can hear it under your panting breaths. he needs you so badly. he loves you more than he thought he ever could and beyond what he deserves but you’re clinging to him like you need him just as much, like you love him with the same intensity he feels for you. it’s all he can feel, all he can think about, all he can focus on, when he asks, “can i.. can i touch you?”

you’re eager to nod your head, feeling his bangs tickle your skin. “please,” you all but whimper, your arms around his neck pulling with little force to bring him to your lips once more.

with ease he helps you settle more comfortably on your butt and your legs spread for him. he breaks your kiss, pulling away from you, much to your hearts dismay, but you can still feel how close he is and when your eyes slowly open, your vision clears to watch diluc pull off his last glove, revealing the pale scarred hands you longed to feel all over you.

they’re beautiful, just like the rest of him and the feel of them on your bare thighs, right underneath your dress, so calloused and warm, makes your body burst like a skyline full of fireworks and its as if the stars in the sky are exploding alongside them with every nerve he lights on fire when his lips meet your neck.

almost achingly slow and with a detectable tremble, his hands move up your thighs as he kisses the delicate skin of your neck. your legs spread wider, your hands sinking into his hair, and at the slightest graze of his fingers on the wet spot pooling on your panties your legs begin to shake.

“is this okay?” he asks, heated lips lingering on your neck, his fingers just barely out of reach from where you needed them the most right now while he awaits your reply, still shaking with anticipation and desire.

one of your hands moves from his neck, cupping his chin and bringing him to look at you. “yes, more than okay,” you assure him, your eyes locking for a moment and then you’re kissing him, sweet and slow.

his movements are intentional, achingly tender like he worries you might break under too much pressure as he moves your panties to the side and lets his fingers delve into the soft silkiness of your pussy, sticky and warm and so receptive to his touch.

chest rising and falling with deep breaths that only fuel the fire within him, dark scarlet eyes take in and memorize your every reaction to the pads of his fingers stroking up and down your wet folds. he takes note of every place your hips buck up and your lips part, everytime your knees tremble at the pressure on your little bundle of nerves and you tug at his hair that sent pleasure straight to his cock.

fuck he thinks he could cum just from touching you, from watching you unravel from pleasure. all because of him, only for him. and he feels his boxers getting sticky with precum when his fingers slide down to your entrance and he sinks a thick digit into you.

you’re so wet your essence starts to soak his palm the deeper he pushes into you and when he adds a second finger, feeling how tight you are around them, the lewd sounds of your pussy join the noises he pulls from you with every pump of his fingers. they’re inexperienced but quick to learn; so wonderful in their thickness, their attentiveness to you, and it doesn’t take diluc long to figure out where to touch to have you crying out his name.

and you think you might cry period. this.. diluc.. everything feels so wonderful, like you are made for each other; two halves that have finally reunited but are on the precipice of fusing together in a way they never have before and you want him in every way he’ll let you have him, want to give him every single part of you, now and forever.

diluc wants to give you the same. please take all of him, accept all of him; every broken piece that you always seem to handle with such love. he wants to continue taking in your every reaction to but his lips ache to be with yours once more and with his free hand, he pulls you into a kiss, curling his fingers inside of you, finding that perfect spot at the same moment his tongue delves into your mouth and you moan into it, pull him closer, deeper and he feels the last of his control to not take you on the bar, lose his virginity in the tavern, slipping. he’s desperate to show you in this way how much you mean to him, what you do to him.

though there's never been any doubt in his mind this is what he wanted with you, he’s never been with anyone in this way and he’d never thought your first time would be on the bar top but there is no denying how right this feels, that he can’t wait unless you need him to.

breaking your kiss, he says your name, his tone serious and the movements of his fingers stop slowly after. messy and sticky they leave you terribly empty and your eyes open in protest. you’re met with an expression that is overwhelming, breath stealing, full of so so many emotions you don’t know where to begin to describe them but behind it all is pure, burning, love that you can never be without again.

“i won’t be able to hold back any longer if we continue,” he says and his deep tone makes the heat between your legs intensify, your cheeks flush and your hands hold onto him like he might slip from your grasp. “tell me to sto-”

you don’t let him finish before you’re closing the distance between your lips. that was the very last thing you wanted, your heart couldn't handle even hearing the words from him unless it’s what he wanted. “don’t stop. please diluc don’t stop.”

without breaking your kisses or the devouring of your tongues, in his seemingly endless strength, he lifts you from the counter and pulls your panties to your knees in one swift motion, swallowing your little yelp of surprise. a string of saliva still connects you when he has to pull away with panting breaths and it breaks against his lips like a glossy sheen as he takes a small step back to guide your underwear the rest of the way down your legs.

he sheds his coat too, putting both on the counter next to you, never taking his attention away from you; the glistening of your wet pussy in the tavern light, your heaving chest close to spilling out of your dress and the most beautiful expression on your face.

you shift, your dress falling over the top of your legs as you reach for him. with his fingers laced with yours, together you unbuckle his belt and undo the lacing of his pants. you let him pull down his boxers, freeing his cock that makes your mouth water and your cunt clench around nothing. it’s unbelievable, so big and thick, and flushed pink, his mushroom tip sticky with pre and feels heavy in your hand in a way that makes your head dizzy.

“you have no idea what you do to me,” he tries to get the words out as you pump him slow and the space between you becomes non-existent but they come out in nearly a growl through his clenched teeth at the way your hand feels around him. it's like nothing else, not even close to how his own hand has felt when he lost himself to thoughts of you, and he can hardly fathom what it will feel like to be inside of you.

every breath you share, every heart beat in tandem with the others, there is only you two in the world right now and even if it is not what he had thought for your first time making love, no candle light or rose petals or silken sheets, there only ever needed to be you. the holder of his heart and your own that you had given a man as unworthy as him in return, that he would protect and love until the light in his vision goes out.

his hands are desperate for you, holding you at the edge of the counter while he moves your dress to pool around your hips and you guide his cock to your entrance. his hand wraps around your wrist, pulling your hand away from his throbbing length and bringing it back around his neck.

“i love you.” it’s not the first time he’s confessed the words to you, nor would it be the last, but as if to emphasize how true they actually are, he seals the words with a kiss, his hold on you trembling with held back strength as he lowers you onto his cock.

a breathless moan of your name escapes his throat and he worries his hold on you may bruise but his sanity and control are slipping the deeper he is inside of your tight walls but he’s completely captivated, utterly drunk, off of your every reaction that tells him not to stop.

you have no other words to describe it other than you’re clinging to him in every way possible. your hands buried in thick crimson locks, your legs around his slim waist, your lips locked, your pussy so fucking full of him. it’s a delicious stretch that has you whimpering and never ever wanting this to end.

when he’s fully sheathed inside you, his head drops to your chest, taking in a shuddering breath, the softness of his messy curls on your breasts and neck only adding to every sensation you are feeling.

“i love you - i love you so much,” you’re finally able to reply, moving your hips and hearing the deep gasp he can’t hold back before kissing your chest and thrusting his hips, pulling out to nearly the tip with a groan against your skin and pushing back into you slow as he litters your chest with his love, heated, messy and that make your skin tingle.

your words only spur him on, make his heart surge in its need to give you everything, and he can’t be apart from your lips for a moment longer. he keeps his slow pace, pulling away from your chest and looking at you through heavy lashes and dark scarlet eyes that kindle with fire for just long enough to capture and drink in your beauty before his lips are devouring yours.

the slapping of his heavy balls against your bum that’s barely on the counter anymore fills the empty tavern, joins the murmurs of love and pleasure that escape you both. dilucs pace becomes faster, hitting the deepest part of you until he finds a rhythm that has you squeezing around him, your teeth nipping at his bottom lip and when he brings you down on his length in time with his thrust in turn, you sweetly cry out his name.

he’s so lost in the way you feel, how desperately you hold him and he’s ready to burst at any moment but there is no doubt to him that your pleasure is his own and he’d use every once of his will power to ensure you found yours before he even considered his. diluc wanted nothing more than to make you feel good, to give you pleasure in a way no one else can, to love you.

“‘m so.. so close,” you say as though you had known what was within him, what the deepest part of his heart craves but there’s no denying your words of rapture also go straight to his cock.

he buries his face in your neck, trying to hold back the sounds that bubble up his throat, clenching his teeth as he rocks in and out you. he holds onto you as tightly as he is the last bit of his sanity but his head is dizzy, overwhelmed with the feel of your soft skin under the grasp of his fingers and the way you squeeze around his cock like he’s never experienced before and the way his heart is beating its way through his chest to get to you, as close as it possibly can.

“ahh! diluc - !”

the pressure between your legs gives way, your velvety walls sucking him in, clenching around his cock so tight he can’t even breathe and there is no question that where he holds you in his hands will bruise later. he captures your lips, his kiss as intense and searing as the orgasm that washes over him within seconds. the wanton whimper you let out from being stuffed so full of him and his plentiful cum is as lovely as it is sinful, one he will never forget, one he wants to hear again and again.

a salty droplet catches on the corner of his lips that are pressed against yours and so quickly, too quickly than you could handle, he pulls away from you. he can’t let you go but his heart is hammering in his chest at the sight of the crystalline tears clinging to your lashes.

“did i hurt you?” his voice is as shaky as his trust in himself with you is if he had lost himself too much.

“no!” you’re quick to reply, not wanting him to get any farther away from you than he already is or let his worries consume him when you were okay - archons you were so much more than just okay. you cup both of his cheeks in the home of your palms, your thumbs soothing over his pink hued cheeks. “not at all. i’m just..” you didn’t know if there was really a word to describe it. nothing you know feels like enough. “i’m so in love with you diluc.”

the relief, the happiness it brings him to hear you say that, is evident on his face, the way he leans into your touch, the cool wetness on your burning fingers from his own overflowing emotions.

genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist

#diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc ragnvindr smut #genshin impact smut #diluc smut #genshin smut #🌙moonlight.stories

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awfcspencer · 3 months

Note

reader feels ugly and just upset and leah comforts? pure fluff I beg xx

Don’t Listen To Them || leah williamson x reader

prompt: requested! Social media can be a cruel, cruel place.

warnings: self confidence issues

a/n: hope you enjoy it! happy v-day to those who celebrate <33

Inside your shared home, you and Leah decided to stay in and build a charcuterie board as a snack before you both cuddle up together and watch a film. For dinner, Leah had lit some candles and put on some slow music while she watched you cook her favorite chicken alfredo pasta recipe. The both of you decided to pop a bottle of red wine as a nice way to end the jampacked week. Dinner was relaxing, enjoying one another’s company and talking about miscellaneous topics. Leah cleaned up the reminiscent of dinner as you began on the board. Organizing the charcuterie board was pretty simple, you had found a Pinterest photo to recreate, and Leah had accompanied you to the grocery store to collect the items you would need.

Placing the finishing touches on the board, you grabbed your phone located on the other side of the kitchen island. The board had taken you a lot longer than you assumed it would, but you wanted it to be perfect, so you found yourself examining the picture intricately and making sure everything was placed exactly.

Leah had become bored roughly about 10 minutes into creating the board, she paced back and forth around the kitchen and occasionally sighed loudly to really get the point across that she was bored.

“Wait let me take a photo first Lee,” As you swat her hand away for what felt like the hundredth time tonight from the perfectly aligned board that she had been secretly picking at each time you would set a row of crackers or stack of pepperonis in place. Each time she would eat off the board, you would have to replace the food and scold her. It was like baking a cake with a toddler who would lick frosting off the spoon when you weren’t looking.

“Oh silly me how could I forget Instagram eats first.” Rolling her eyes and grabbing the remote in the living room to put on a movie. “Mamma Mia tonight?” It was always a go-to in the home. You loved the cute little plot and Leah liked singing the ABBA songs loudly in your ear.

“Perfect idea baby,” nodding your head towards the blonde. Carefully balancing the food in your left hand as you make your way towards the couch after you took the perfect photo. Then remembering that you have to get back up and grab the two red wine glasses the two of you had been nursing before. Placing yourself between the defender’s long legs on the L-shaped couch, leaning backwards into her as she placed her head on your shoulder, placing a few kisses in the crook of your neck.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish Williamson.” Whispering as you kissed her now reddened cheeks.

You grabbed a few of the pepperoni’s and tossed them into your mouth, reaching your hand back and allowing Leah to have a few after she made a toddler-like gesture and a huff indicating that she wanted one.

“I sometimes think you are a 26-year-old stuck in a toddler’s body.” All night Leah had managed to find some way to annoy or antagonize you, all in fun though.

Pretending to be offended, “Well toddlers don’t cuddle so maybe I should get up.” Making a move to get up and sit on the opposite side of the couch.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t get up, I am comfy, and you are warm.” You plead out in a joking manner, turning towards her placing a kiss on the tip of her nose as you forced her back down to her original position.

“So nice to me now but less than 30 seconds ago you were mean.” Folding her arms across her body and a stern look on her face. You wanted to make a comment about the state of which is looked right now, how it was so toddler-like, but you refrained, settling with a loud laugh.

“Momentary lapse of character” Reaching out to grab a peace treaty as an apology, “Olive?”

“You know the way to my heart, apology accepted.” As she takes it from your grasp and plops it into her mouth, pulling you back closer to her from her previous fake exit as you leaned into her chest.

Opening Instagram to post the pictures you had taken throughout the night. “Do you want me to tag you?” Organizing the selected photos on the screen and applying final touches on the photos. Ending it by adding a song in the background that had been playing when Leah grabbed you away from the masterpiece you had been creating and pulled you in for a quick salsa twirl and leaned you backwards and placed a kiss on your lips.

“Yeah so I can repost it” as she watched you create the post. You and Leah had been seeing each other for a few months, baking in the privacy for a bit before you let the whole world know. Each week that had passed, you and Leah got less and less subtle, performing a ‘soft launch’ through similar locations but different angles or the way she would repost your stories. This specific collection of photos was new though as it featured a slide of a side profile of Leah looking down at the board. It also had only 2 dinner plates, 2 sets of silverware, and 2 wine glasses in one of the photos, indicating it was in fact a date.

The fans had started to catch on and for the most part, the reactions had been mostly positive. Opposite of your life, Leah’s life was in the spotlight. Everything she did, everything she said, and everywhere she went was documented on some sort of social media outlet. Your account had maybe a few thousand followers, most of them you had gained from when Leah first started reposting your posts. So this post would set in stone that you and Leah were officially an item.

Clicking upload and then facing your phone downward on the table, cuddling backwards more into Leah with your back into her chest. Baking in her warm body, strong arms, and vanilla scent. “Omg who is this beautiful blonde in the third slide?” Gushing over herself as she quickly reposts your photos and places her phone next to yours, pulling you in tighter. “Always so humble Lee” gently swatting her on the thigh as she clicked play.

Every few minutes throughout the movie, your phone would go off, a little buzz that at first you just assumed was a few Instagram likes but after what felt like your phone was vibrating every second, you untangle slightly from Leah and grab your phone.

Your post had over 100,000 likes and several comments from people who you definitely did not know. You scroll casually through the notifications on your device. A few negative comments stuck out to you and when you opened the app, you were greeted with hundreds more.

‘Can’t believe she is dating THE Leah Williamson.’

‘Leah definitely downgraded.’

Several comments simply just said, ‘ugly’. The hurtful comments went on and on.

Private accounts and faceless profiles, people would say anything they desired behind a screen when there were no direct consequences. Harsh words that initially you were able to push to the side, but each one that you read dug a little deeper. The response was overwhelming, there were new comments each minute, and almost none of them were nice. It hurt and each one you read felt more real. You could feel the tears coming, the emotions coming out, so you briefly excused herself saying you needed to use the restroom, desperately hoping that the way your voice cracked was unnoticeable.

The words felt true as you locked eyes in the mirror with yourself. Where you enough to be with someone like Leah? I mean she was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous, and what were you? Staring at yourself in the mirror you noticed each and every blemish, freckle, or pore on your face, and the tears began to fall. The grey sweatsuit that you had initially put on for the chill date now felt ugly on your frame, you wanted to rip the clothes off. Someone who was dating Leah Williamson wouldn’t wear such an ugly outfit.

Back on the couch, Leah was beginning to get worried at the amount of time you had been gone. The part Leah knew was your favorite was coming up so she reached for the remote on the coffee table to pause it so you could enjoy it when you returned. In attempting to pause the movie, she noticed your phone open on your Instagram comment section. The vulgar comments made her sick. They were piling in with each minute that passed, and she felt angry, but then she felt sad. She quickly left the couch and rushed to the bathroom, desperately hoping that maybe the pasta didn’t sit right, or you were busy washing your hands.

A soft knock on the door took your eyes off the mirror. “Hey babe, you all good in there?” the blonde questioned. Leah’s heart was beating out of her chest because she had heard the soft sniffles from outside the door as she walked up to it. She knew you had read the comments. She wanted to run in and immediately convince you that not a single one of those comments were true, but she didn’t want to overwhelm you.

“Don’t come in.” You didn’t mean to scream at her, you weren’t angry with her, but you did not want her to see you like this, your makeup now smeared and tears freely falling from your eyes. You quickly locked the door and rushed to the opposite side of the bathroom. She would break up with you, she would realize the comments were true, you were ugly. You were fidgeting with your hair, a trait you’ve had since primary school when you got overwhelmed or nervous, it was a way to calm down.

“Baby please let me in, nothing any of those comments said is true. Nothing.” She pleaded, hoping she could convince you to let her in. She wanted to pull you into a big hug and say anything and everything she could to help you see that nothing they said was true or how she felt.

“You don’t mean that.” Your head was clouded, only being able to replay each and every comment in your brain. Your eyes continued to shift uncontrollably across different sections of your face or body that you felt ashamed of in the mirror.

“I love the way your baby hairs stand out even though you try and try to brush them down in the morning. I love the little crinkle in your nose when you get annoyed or confused about something. I love the way your tongue pokes out of the corner of your mouth when you are trying to focus really hard on something. I love your freckles, every single one, especially when you get some sun and they especially become vibrant. I love the way you lick your lips before you speak. I love the way each time you laugh or smile I can see the indent on your cheeks of your dimples even though you try and claim you don’t have them. I love the way you twirl your hair into curls when you get stressed. I love your eyes, it is like I can see a sparkle in them when you look at something you love. I love the way you close your eyes sometimes because you say it helps you think more clearly. I love you baby, every single inch of you. Those comments do not know you like I know you. They do not see how truly beautiful you are to me,” the compliments gushing out of Leah like it was second nature, truly meaning each and every word.

There was silence on your side of the door, taking in what Leah said. A click of the door as you unlocked it and Leah rushed in and to your side immediately. You sobbed into the defender’s chest as she rubbed large circles on your back.

“Thank you, Lee, really.” Your breathing had returned to normal and your heart no longer felt like it was racing. You felt safe and loved in the blonde's embrace.

“It is only you baby, you are my love. Don’t listen to them,” pulling you in tighter and placing a soft kiss on your temple as she forced you to look her in the eyes. She took her thumb and brushed over the final tears that escaped your eye.

“I can’t believe I let social media get to me, this is so stupid. I’m sorry for crying and for ruining our date,” your voice no louder than a whisper as you look down at the bathroom tile.

She forces your head back up with a finger under your chin, “It’s not stupid baby. I get it, it can be a lot. But anytime you feel like it all gets too much, I want you to talk to me. I want to know. And you never need to apologize to me, and certainly not for crying baby.”

Another wave of silence fell over the bathroom. The two of you are still huddled in each other's arms, swaying slightly left and right as you come down from the major wave of emotions previously.

"I'm pretty sure we still have mint chocolate ice cream from last week," she quietly whispered, a small upward quirk of her lip that turned into a soft smile. She knew it was your favorite and that you rarely let yourself keep it inside the household because you would easily eat a whole pint. You matched her grin, locking her fingers with yours, and pulled her towards the kitchen.

Two spoons and one large bowl of ice cream was shared between the two of you. Leah had made the final touches by adding chocolate syrup and way too much whipped cream. You took your pointer finger to swipe the white cream and tapped Leah on the nose.

"Who is acting like a toddler now?" wiping her nose with a nearby napkin as you shrugged and placed another large bite into your mouth.

#woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso #woso soccer #woso blurbs #womens soccer #leah williamson x you #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #arsenal wfc #awfc #arsenal women

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zanarkandskylines · 3 months

Text

Unexpected Treasure

『♡』 pro-hero fem!reader x pro-hero bakugo ╰➤ ꒰ pro-hero au | married | aged to 26 ꒱ ♡ katsuki bakugo masterlist ♡

summary: when bakugo gets caught up in the office after his patrol, you decide to send him some spicy semi-nudes in your hero suit with one sentence - "bringing you a surprise, stay in your office." tags & warnings: 18+ MDNI | CW; Smut - sexting, masturbation, dirty talk, praise, biting/love marks, oral (f!receive), nipple play, rough-ish sex, creampie, talks of pregnancy | porn-with-plot, lovers (married), fluff & tooth-rotting fluff, soft bakugo, feel good/comfort a/n: happy valentine’s day! this idea popped in my head and i couldn't stop thinking about how stinkin' cute it would be, so here you go! after the smut is when the tooth-rotting fluff starts!! ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; 2,934꒱

[katsuki] gonna be late, sorry sweets. maybe another hour to get this stupid paperwork done

Damn, so much for a surprise dinner. You’ll just bring the surprise to him instead! You were too impatient to wait another hour to tell him about your day.

You slip into the bodysuit of your hero attire, shimmying into the neoprene and spandex as the material hugs your body like a glove. Usually you’d wear a set of tights underneath to cover your legs, but for this purpose, “forgot” them as they’d only end up getting in the way. You grab your phone from the coffee table, lying on the couch as you pose for a few shots of yourself.

Once you’re satisfied with the risqué pictures, you send the set over to your bombastic hero of a husband with one comment.

[y/n] * two pictures attached * [y/n] bringing you a surprise, stay in your office

You grab a bag with some spare clothes and throw on a long jacket to cover yourself as you head out the door. Before you have your shoes on, your phone dings three times.

[katsuki] holy fuck [katsuki] shit baby [katsuki] bring your office key, i’m locking the damn door

A coy smile crosses your lips as you shut the door to your shared apartment and swiftly make your way over to Dynamight Agency downtown.

───

The sunset’s rays poured into Bakugo’s 4th floor office, bouncing off the walls and illuminating the paperwork he’s begrudgingly working on. When his phone vibrates, he quickly peeks at the notification for your response.

Imagine his shock when he opens the texts to see two half-naked photos of his wife on the living room couch of your home.

“Fuck,” he mumbles to himself, examining both photos with curious eyes. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat and ears heating up as the blood rushed straight to his groin.

The first picture had your suit’s front zipper sitting flush against your ribcage, right under your breasts, as they squished together. He could tell the material was barely holding them in place, your nipples perking through the stretch of the fabric. Your face wasn’t completely visible, just the pout of your perfectly plump lips.

The second picture, though? He audibly grunted as he stared at the glass screen.

You sat on the edge of the couch as the bodysuit rode straight up your center, hands on your thighs as your legs are spread. The snaps on the underside of the suit were struggling to stay secured as it settled in between the flush of your lips, covering nothing but your clit.

Bakugo was so enamored with your body that he didn’t notice when he started fisting himself through his cargo pants.

God, how did he get so lucky to land a bombshell like you?

Without hesitation, he unbuckles the clasps of his belt and shoves his pants and boxers down his thighs, reclining back in his chair as he ferociously gripped his dick. The heat of his palm edged him along as he kept his phone in the other hand, flipping back and forth between your two pictures with each stroke. All he could think about was how much he wanted to tear the snaps open on your crotch with his teeth and devour you, paint your luscious tits with hot cum, watch how your puffy lips wrap around his cock, and fuck you until you were screaming his name into the couch cushions.

The sound of the lock turning on his office door shook Bakugo out of his lust-ridden stupor as he rolled his chair to situate himself under the desk, hiding his erection from sight. You crack the door open, just enough to slip inside, and re-lock the door behind you. He’s panting as sweat rolls out from under his mask, crimson irises locked on to you like a predator spotting its prey.

Was he getting off to your pictures?

Fuck, that’s hot.

”Hey Kats,” you purr, stripping the coat from your shoulders and exposing your hero suit. You drop your bag by the door, along with the jacket, and saunter over to his desk.

“Looks like someone was enjoying himself.”

Bakugo scoffs, pushing his mask up on to his forehead and running a hand through his hair. “Guilty as charged. Can’t help it, you’re fuckin’ sexy.”

As you round the desk, you catch a full glimpse of his flushed cock, dribbling with pre-spend as it gleams against his flesh in the sunlight. You can feel the spandex of your suit getting moist as you bite your lip, yearning for his touch - the string in your belly already wound tightly over catching him in the act.

Bakugo springs up from his chair, letting his pants and boxers fall to the floor as he’s grabbing your waist and shoving you up against the desk between his legs. He presses against your center with his hard on, feeling the damp spandex rub against his shaft. Leaning back, you accidentally knock over the stack of papers and sending them tumbling to the floor.

“Looks like someone was enjoying herself,” Bakugo teases mockingly, rocking back and forth against your clothed slit. “Fuck th’ paperwork, rather fuck this pretty cunt of yours instead.”

A soft gasp falls from your lips as he removes himself from your center, kneeling down and pulling your hips to edge of the desk. His breath is hot against your sticky thighs as he licks the wet spot on your spandex, sucking on your clit through the fabric. You roll your hips closer into his mouth, begging for him for more. He smirks, diving into your core and nipping at the buttons on your suit. He grips the fabric between his teeth and throws his head back, successfully ripping the bodysuit’s enclosure open. It springs upward to the bottom of your stomach and exposes your glistening sex on full display, arousal seeping from your folds.

“Mm, someone’s eager,” he coos, swiping a finger through your slick. He brings it to his lips, half-lidded rubies flicking up to you as he swirls his tongue around his own finger, collecting it all seductively.

“God, baby, you taste like fuckin’ heaven.”

“Fucking hell, Katsuki,” you moan, rolling your head back as your mind floods with pleasure.

Bakugo groans as he plunges into your soaking wet center, drinking up every drop of your juices as his tongue circles back and forth from your entrance to your clit. You twitch as a sinful mewl spills out of you, echoing through his office.

“Sh-shit, sorry,” you whimper as another groan is coaxed out of you.

“Fuckin’ scream if y’wanna, baby. Don’t hide those pretty little moans,” he hums in between laps of his tongue, vibrations of his husky voice sent straight into your core. His fingers trail up your body to your throat, tracing your jawline as he moves to your lips, pressing his fingers to them.

“Now be a good girl and open wide.”

You obey, taking his digits into your mouth and roll your tongue around his calloused finger pads.

The inferno blazing in your abdomen is becoming unbearable, rapidly approaching your limit. You didn’t even need foreplay, the thought - and sight - of him jerking off to your pictures was more than enough to catapult you to the edge.

You pull back and release his fingers, a string of drool connecting from your lips to his fingertips.

”N-ah-not to r-rush you, babe, b-but I don’t wanna finish on you’re face,” you say between gasps. “I n-need you to f-fuck me until this goddamn desk breaks. I w-ah-nna come ah-ll over your -”

Bakugo doesn't let you finish your request as he's springing to his feet and scooping his hands under your ass. He positions himself up against your entrance and shoves his cock to the hilt inside of you - full force.

"Anything for you, princess," he growls, enjoying the site of your bouncing tits spilling out of your bodysuit as he begins to thrust aggressively into your weeping cunt. His hands grip into the plush of your ass as he pushes and pulls over and over again, spreading you open with his hot member.

The burn and stretch of him inside you makes you cry out in ecstasy. You’ll never grow tired of just how fucking good he feels, especially when he’s so deep that it feels like he’s rearranging your guts. It’s like he was destined to fuck you with how perfect the two of you meld together.

Bakugo takes one hand off your ass to harshly tug on the zipper between you two, releasing your breast from their clothed confinement. He immediately dips down while moving his hand to your back for support, taking your nipple in his mouth and sucking with a rough pop of his lips. A frenzied moan escapes you, arching your back into his body, fueling a carnal desire within him as he continues to nip at your fragile skin, littering your chest with pricks of red in his wake.

You eagerly run your hands to the bottom of his tank top, tugging it up his chest and stopping on his pecs. The second your fingers roll over his harden buds, a guttural groan erupts from his throat. He lurches down, biting at your collarbone. You can feel his canines sink into your skin as you whine his name again and again, each one growing lustier with each snap of his hips.

"F-fuck, 'm not...g-uh," Bakugo stutters into the crook of your neck as he picks up the pace, his rhythm becoming haphazard as his thighs begin to tense.

"M-me too," you cry out, cupping his cheek in your hand to turn his eyes to you.

“I-I love you,” you whisper before biting at his bottom lip, sucking it harshly into a messy kiss as you beg for him to reciprocate.

He groans against your lips, crashing into you with his tongue and teeth, nibbling on your bottom lip in return. The lingering taste of your own cum swirls between your kiss as your body clenches, intoxicated by the intensity of your upcoming orgasm.

Bakugo breaks your kiss as his chest is heaving in sync with your own.

“I-fuck! I fucking love you,” he snarls in your ear. Your walls are clamping down all around his cock, the intense sensation too much for him to bare. He jerks a few more times as the both of you reach your peak, the wave of shared euphoria crashing down as you explosively release together. Heat floods into your center, a mix of your slick and his cum leaking down your thighs. Your body’s convulse in tandem, quivering from the recoil of your joint climax.

“Hell of a surprise, baby,” Bakugo whistles, catching his breath as he slides out of you and sits back in his office chair. He can’t help but stare at you as you soak in the afterglow of your orgasm. You were absolutely beautiful to him, especially splayed over his office desk stuffed full of his seed.

Good thing he had a corner office where no one bothered him if the door was closed. It was late, anyways, it was unlikely anyone was wandering around the agency at this hour.

You push off the desk and make your way over to your bag by the door. Rummaging around, you pull out a towel, a fresh pair of underwear, sweatpants and a Dynamight hoodie to change into. Bakugo notices and can’t help but cackle at how prepared you were as you change clothes and toss him the towel to clean himself up after you.

“I know you’re a through planner, babe, but damn.”

“Well, that wasn’t the surprise I was talking about,” you say mischievously.

He quirks an eyebrow at you as he fixes his shirt and scoots forward in his chair to finish putting his pants back on. “Oh?”

You strut over to him, straddling his lap and snaking your arms around his neck. He wraps his arms around your waist to hold you in place.

“I actually had a whole dinner and whatnot planned for tonight, but I couldn’t wait after you said you’d be caught up in the office.”

Bakugo’s confusion deepens at your comment, unsure of what it is you could be hinting at. He scrunches his brows together, tilting his head to the side.

“Sorry for gettin’ stuck here and messin’ up your plan. Now are y’gonna tell me what it is, or…?”

You’re mentally preparing yourself as you unlace one arm from around his neck and reach into the pocket of your sweatpants, trembling with excitement.

“Remember how I’ve complaining about how sore and achy I’ve been lately?”

“Yeah, y’had that blood test a few days ago. Did ya get that back today?” He asks, not following what that had to do with whatever surprise you had planned.

“I did,” you say as you hand him the folded piece of paper. “I found out why.”

Bakugo shifts the office chair closer to the desk, allowing you to lean back against the trim as he used his hands to unfold the paper. Your demeanor hints that you’re not sick or in bad health, so he’s not immediately worried. He’s scanning over the results until his eyes settle on one particular section.

“No fucking way, are you serious?!” He’s practically vibrating out of the chair beneath you.

You nod your head vigorously. “Mhm! Think Mitsuki saved your old All Might onesies?”

He snatches you by the waist as he jumps to his feet, cradling you as he spins ecstatically. You don’t recall a time, aside from your wedding, that you’ve seen him this overjoyed about anything. Setting you down on the desk, parting your legs to remain as close as possible to you. He cradles your face in his heated palms. The smile that adorns his lips is genuine, his eyes aflame with adoration.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, y/n.”

Bakugo locks his lips with yours, and the kiss isn’t sexual in nature. It’s full of love and endearment, a tenderness that makes your heart flutter and fills your body with bliss. When the two of you part, his eyes are glassy as he touches his forehead to yours.

“We’re finally gettin’ to start our family,” he whispers. “I’m gonna be a fuckin’ dad. Holy shit.”

Hearing him say it out loud makes you choke out the sob you’ve been withholding, beaming with happiness as your tears start to flow.

“Up for the challenge?” You tease playfully, sniveling and giggling as you pull him close for a hug.

“With you? Always.”

Bakugo takes a step back from your hold to delicately place a hand on your stomach, touching you as if you were made of porcelain.

“Do y’know how far along you are?”

“The doctor told me on the phone about 8 or 9 weeks. I thought my period was late from work stress all this time.”

“You’re definitely not workin’ after tonight!” Bakugo demands, his hands moving to your shoulders. “No way in hell you’re fighting with our baby taggin’ along in ya. I’m the boss ‘round here anyways, I’ll handle the stressful shit from now on.”

“Okay, hotshot. Calm down,” you joke, reaching up and ruffling his spiky locks. He sighs, shoulders slumping as the anxiety leaves his body.

“Now I feel kinda bad for railin’ you so hard against the desk,” he snickers, a blush creeping up his neck as he turns his head away from you.

“Oh, I don’t. How do you think I got pregnant in the first place?”

Embarrassment rushes straight to his cheeks, burning hot at your lewd comment. His reaction sends you into a fit of laughter, holding your stomach as you lay back on his desk.

“Better get used to not seeing me in that tight ass suit anymore, I bet it won’t even fit in a month’s time,” you exclaim, shaking your head at the thought.

Bakugo snorts. “Don’t matter if it fits or not, I’m gonna make ya wear it.”

You tilt your head toward him, smiling from ear to ear.

How’d you get so lucky? You’ll never know.

“So,” you exhale, sitting up on the desk. “Who do we tell first?”

He ponders your question and rolls his eyes at his own answer before speaking it aloud.

“Ma would kill me if her and pop weren’t first in line. Wanna stop by on the way home, get it outta the way?”

“Hah, alright. We can call my mom tomorrow and stop in. She should be back from her work trip by then.”

Another thought crosses your mind.

“Oh shit…do we tell Izuku or Kirishima first?”

Bakugo laughs out loud. “One step at a time, baby. ‘S a problem for tomorrow.”

Who would have thought this day would come? Two years of uncertainty and waiting has finally paid off, you couldn’t be more thrilled.

A memory flashes in your head from high school from a decade ago, walking into home room at UA High for the first time with Izuku as you spot Katsuki in the far row. You waved to him as he flipped you the bird, scowl painted on his face as he grumbled in his seat.

If someone would have told you that day he’s the one you’d date after graduation, marry and have a family with, you would have said they’re fucking insane.

And maybe it was insane, but you love every minute of it.

After this, I can imagine Bakugo deep diving into everything related to pregnancy - devouring every damn educational book, building the nursery three times before he's satisfied with its style and function, spoiling you endlessly with anything you ask for, and being extremely protective of you. :)

Divider by : @/saradika

#bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bakugo smut #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugou #bakugo fluff #bnha smut #mha smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo #soft bakugo #☆.rei writes

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mandowifey · 11 months

Note

i just read your miguel o’hara fic and it’s beautiful.

so i found out that when he bites his prey, his fangs have paralyzing venom and i was thinking about him being obsessed with reader who tries to ignore him, but eventually he becomes impatient and uses his venom on them and all they can do is moan and take him (with a sprinkle of breeding kink🤭).

sorry if this is too much and makes you uncomfy

WAH, thank you so much! ❤️

(Breeding kink is my fave kink, Id never be uncomfy) I've wanted to write this for him since learning about it, it's so...hot, HAHA.

P.s: this turned into arguably the longest Miguel x reader fic I have ever done 💀

× × ×

Dominion

Miguel O'hara x Fem!Reader

This is part of a nonlinear storyline.

Warnings; NSFW, extreme noncon/dubcon (reader is paralyzed from Miguel's bite), dark!Miguel, stalker!Miguel, PiV sex, unsafe sex, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, praise, taunting, general bad themes. Reader is a virgin in this.

× × ×

When Spider-man saved a bus full of children on a collapsing bridge, the world cheered. What the news outlets and fanatics fail to see are the people who are not rescued. Your family had been on the bi-monthly trip down state when the bridge had been attacked. They were one of the cars that went down with the initial rubble. There was no big heroic moment, no surprise rescue, or hero swooping in the last minute to save them all. On that day, you lost everyone you ever cared about and came to hate Spider-man.

Miguel O'hara understood a lot of things about this world. In fact, he understood a lot of things about a lot of worlds. There was synchronicity between the universes, such as Spider-man being the hero and getting the girl. What he failed to understand was how he couldn't get you.

It was a Thursday evening, and he was fighting Rhino in the open street. As the leader of the Spider-Society, Miguel didn't often get to run around and handle crime. Seeing an opportunity to release some frustration and get some air, he'd left Jess in charge to patrol the city. Cue, the bad guy showing up and their all-out, property destroying brawl. During the back and forth with his opponent, Rhino had picked up a small car above his head and chucked it. When Miguel dodged, the car hit the road, rolled, then skidded into a light pole as the engine burst into flames.

As he turned to lunge, he heard you.

Screaming, inside that car.

Duty to civilians was more important than apprehending a criminal. Still, he hesitated before, inevitably snarling and prowling towards the car. With his strength, Miguel lifted and shoved the pole to the side before he walked around to the front. Inside the glass was you. Small compared to him, bloodied from the glass and impact but still shouting. What confused him was the way your fearful expression twisted into a look of pure disdain once you two spotted each other. Regardless, he'd broken the windshield and pulled you out.

"You alright?"

Nothing.

Not a word.

As you wipe glass from your clothes, the masked crusader lingered in your presence, perturbed. Miguel did not do this for 'thank yous' and pats on the back for a job well done. He did it because, as a hero, it was the right thing to do. Certainly enough, people in the world hated him, and he could accept that. When you looked up at him finally, blood had run trails down your forehead and cheeks, painting you like some warrior of the macabre. The man wonders if the head injury had affected your brain.

"Go sit down, an ambulance is sure to be here."

Silence.

Miguel catches your eyes as they glint beneath flickering street lamps. There is something about the way you look at him that unsettles him. You stare at him as though you are judging his soul, like you could possibly know the wrongs he's done and lives he's lost. Anger blossoms within his chest, and he feels his muscles tense. This was not something he experienced around most citizens. After what feels like a decade passes between you, your eyes lower, and you turn away. Standing and watching, Miguel observes your limp as you hobble towards the sidewalk and sit.

Left to stand amidst the ruins of his run-in with Rhino, O'hara draws in a steady breath. Lyla pings, showing him the location of the villain, and he sets off to track him down. He found himself distracted by thoughts of you that night. Those burning, scornful eyes and those lips that pressed so tightly together.

The thoughts of you did not stop there.

Days of obsessing turned into weeks. Miguel had pulled your information from the local PD database and had started stalking you shortly after. He had learned your routines, your job, and where you liked to go out to eat with friends. You weren't busy during the work week and usually spent the weekends catching up on chores or TV shows. His favorite was perching in your fire escape and watching you do laundry. You were beautiful, oblivious too, and he liked that.

You two had a close call when he decided to get brave.

It was a late Saturday, and you had run out to the store last minute for some missing ingredients. Miguel had been watching your evening unfold and followed not far behind, even going as far as to track you inside the grocery. Mask-less, he loitered around shelves just in view and watched as you hurried around to grab eggs and flour. An older woman had pulled his attention, asking him if he could retrieve something from a high shelf for her. Though reluctant, he'd obliged, which had cost him his line of sight on you.

Urgently rounding a corner to attempt to locate you, Miguel hadn't been paying attention. Fate made you turn the same isle, and if not for his inhuman reflexes, you two would have collided. He stops himself just before impact and steps back while you gasp and touch your chest from being startled. "Sorry," you mutter, not bringing your eyes up to look at him. Miguel doesn't say anything as you skirt around him in a rush. He was frozen, having been so close to you and nearly caught in the act. You hadn't realized who he was and what he was doing, and that thrilled him.

After that day, Miguel decided he could wait no longer.

The next Friday, you were returning home from a late night at work. Clothes disheveled and eyes heavy, you fumbled to get your door unlocked and stepped into the dark. Before your fingers could brush the light switch, something hit you from the side and clapped over your mouth. You're aware of being attacked, and while your screams are muffled, you flail and kick and thrash, throwing your weight around to try and make it difficult for your assailant. His grip is like iron, and you hear him laugh, his breath fanning your neck. A drag of something warm and wet along your throat made you tense, and you scream suddenly as your flesh is punctured by teeth.

Miguel moans at the burst of blood across his tongue. You taste sweeter than he could have imagined, and he relishes your flavor. Closing his eyes, he releases his venom into your body while holding you into him. Your thrashing continued, even while the paralyzing agent pumped through your veins. He knew it wouldn't take long and indulged himself by withdrawing his teeth and sucking at the puncture holes they left. Blood smears across his lips, and he groans again, lapping at you like a starving animal. Miguel had imagined what you'd taste like, and this exceeded all expectations.

As you fell limp, Miguel licked his lips clean and scooped you into his strong arms. He'd been inside your home before, while you were asleep or away with work. Carrying you to the bedroom, he nudged the door open with his foot and placed you on top of your bed. Your eyes were closed, having fallen unconscious not long after he injected you. The man takes his time, propping your head up and removing your clothes until you are left in nothing but a tank top and underwear. Admiring his work, Miguel smiles to himself and steps away to give you time to wake up. He wanted you conscious for this.

When you woke, you were aware immediately that something was wrong. Your eyes stared across your room, darting around in your skull as the memory of being attacked came back to you. As you tried to sit up, you found that you couldn't. You utter a soft whimper, trying once again to raise your arms, but they only twitched and remained flat on the bed. Heart starting to pound, you look around and try to rationalize. This had to have been a bad dream, and you were stuck in some sort of sleep paralysis. Your eyes closed, and you drew in a shaking breath, telling yourself that if you fell asleep, it would be okay.

Everything was dark, save for the stripes of moonlight that stretched across your bedroom. Your door, wide open like a gaping, black mouth, and your closet door sealed shut. You felt unease build as you forced your eyes to the bedroom door again, then gasped. Red dots hovered six feet off the ground in the hallway. Transfixed, you didn't dare blink as the dots grew in size, coming towards you.

This had to be a dream.

This could not be real.

Slowly, a man emerges from the doorway and stops at the edge of your bed. His eyes red like coals, shoulders broad, and hips tapered. He was tall, brooding, and looked very real. The two of you stare at one another, unblinking. After a moment, his eyes lose their color, and his stoic demeanor breaks. Miguel was giddy. He couldn't deny it. A perfectly healthy young woman with a scent that told him you two were a perfect match genetically. He couldn't have been luckier.

A sound builds in your chest. You would be screaming if your mouth could move. The man before you raises his brows and smiles. "I wouldn't try it," He hums, "You're going to be like this for another couple hours. There is no need to panic. It will wear off and you'll be just fine." Lifting his large hands, he brings them to his chest. "I must say I'm a little offended. I knew certain folks didn't like me, but it appears you might even hate me." Miguel smirks into his words, giving you a glimpse of his fangs.

"I went through your phone." He tacked on. "I know it's rude, but I wanted to know you a little better. Y/N, works downtown, lost your family in a tragic incident where I couldn't save the day." His clothes rippled with light and slowly peeled away until he stood only in boxer shorts.

Horror seeps into your bones, and you cry. Tears dribble down your temples as you lay there at his mercy. Lips quivering, you try again to speak, but no words come. It slowly dawned on you that he had told you indirectly who he was. What happened to Spider-Man being the good guy? Nausea creeps inside your guts, a cold rush of dread rising under your skin. It shouldn't be possible, it shouldn't be real, but there he was.

Miguel wore a smile. He could observe the gears churning in your brain while you fought your own body. The smell of your feel was palpable to him, causing his other instincts to shudder. It had taken every ounce of strength not to feed on you, and now, with you limp and pliant, he could feel that familiar itch prickling up his spine. Luckily for you, he'd taken his injection not long before arriving in your home. With the other half tempered, Miguel had all the time in the world.

“Of all the people to be in their car that night, it just had to be you.”

Your fingers twitch as your brain screams. No matter how hard you tried or how loud your voice was in your head, your body was not listening. Helplessly watching him climb onto the bed above you, you close your eyes. Miguel sits back on his legs and places a large, warm hand on your shin.

“I guess fate always has a way of working out.” he prompted, pushing his fingers over your knee and gradually along your thigh. Your skin crawls, itching under his touch. You wanted nothing more than to break away and kick him for touching you. Miguel can sense it, his lips twitching in an impish smile. He could tell from your scent alone how afraid you were.

“I’m sure this isn’t how every girl imagines their first time going,” He continues, and your eyes fly open. Staring up at him, the color drains from your face and your heart begins to quicken. “Yeah, I figured.” Miguel hums impassively as his other hand touches your opposite leg and pushes it open. His dark eyes focused on the apex of your thighs. “But don’t worry, above all else I am still a gentleman.” Flashing his teeth, Miguel curls his fingers under your knees and folds you in half. The sudden movement makes you grunt and whine. “I’m going to take good care of you, princess.” You catch him as he winks before dropping his head down.

Miguel draws a slow breath above your cunt, savoring the heady aroma of your sex. As his mouth watered, he places a soft kiss at the tip of your crease over your panties. He hums and licks a slow stripe over you, drooling into the fabric as he caught the faintest taste of your pussy. “Just as I’d hoped,” he purrs.

You were revulsed, your eyes blurry with tears as you lay helplessly below him. Your body was betraying you now, and you could feel your clit engorging with blood from arousal and knew you were beginning to leak. Miguel knew too, and he places a series of firm kisses over your covered folds before turning his head and nipping at the fat of your inner thigh.

“Just relax and enjoy yourself. Most guys I know don’t even bother with this part.”

You can feel the fabric being pulled, then torn. It was an effortless motion on his behalf, using his claws to assist in shredding the unnecessary material. With your soft cunt now exposed, Miguel sighs, his breath fanning over you. He mumbles praise in Spanish, something you don’t recognize, before he delves in. Pushing the thick tip of his tongue forward, he prods your opening before shoving inside.

A cry smothered in your chest, feeling heat rising in your face. You hated him. You hated this, but your body wasn’t cooperating with you. Miguel moans, fucking the appendage inside your heat before suddenly lapping up your cunt in quick, successive motions. The flat of his tongue drags over your swollen clit and makes you squeak.

As you crumble, he latches his mouth around the sensitive bud at the peak of your folds and begins to suck gently. His attention to detail and willingness to make you feel good had you rising against your will. Your chest heaves again, another pitiful mewl trickling from your lips as he assaults your virgin cunt. Miguel was grinding against your blankets now, the bulge in his boxers painful.

Your scent had his blood pumping and desire growing. The fact that he would be laying claim to you first thrilled him enough to bring him to leak. As eager as he was, he kept his patience with working your body, wanting to see you fall apart under him knowing the man you spent years hating had made you cum.

Soft puling cries wept from your parted lips, your eyes closed in denial. You were being pushed closer towards the edge. The suction from his lips around your clit was perfect and he pulsed gentle sucks against it. Occasionally, you’d feel the press of his tongue on the underside of it, applying light pressure while his mouth continued to suckle you. Your clit was fully engorged now, and while you couldn’t move your thighs trembled as you grew closer. It was sick, degrading even, that you would ever cum from something like this. Miguel hears you gasp quietly, and he withdraws his lips to instead lap firmly at you with the flat of his tongue. Fast, firm licks that slipped over the sensitive bud that sent jolts through your abdomen and up your spine.

The venom rendered your mind in a haze, forcing you to live consciously aware of every grueling moment. Each lash of his tongue or rumble from his throat sending you hurtling towards your peak. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, yet your body paid your mind no heed. When his tongue rolled over your engorged clit, and was followed by a gentle suck, you fell. Even with the intensity of your orgasm, the most your body could do was tense its muscles. A cry squeaks out, along with a series of sharp, mewling gasps as you tremble and seize under him. Miguel laps you lazily now, vermillion eyes staring up at you between your legs. He had done it.

Now certain he had done his part in satisfying you, Miguel lifts and crawls up your body, peppering swift kisses to your skin as he goes. He hesitated, tugging your bra down your ribs to expose you to him. The words ‘please stop’ built in your throat, yet died on your tongue. You can only watch as his eyes grow heavy and his head drops to your breast. His tongue rolls over your nipples, causing them to pebble. Miguel’s spit goes from warm, to cold, shocking your skin and making you whine again. The worst part of it all was how good he managed to make you feel. You were aghast at the fact you had just cum for this lunatic, and hated the fact he acted like he knew your body, able to apply licks and kisses in places you weren’t aware that you liked.

After he satisfied his desire for your breasts, he kisses your collar and up your throat. Miguel is going slow on purpose; you know that now. He was relishing in the control he had over you, knowing that you wanted nothing more than to tell him to go to hell. Now hovering over your own, Miguel ghosts his lips against yours. “You’ve been such a good girl for me.” He purrs. “You sound so pretty when you cum, princess.” The smile that follows his filth tugs your stomach and fills you with embarrassment. Noticing your tears, Miguel tuts and kisses your forehead. “No need to cry, this part is easy. I’ll make sure to start slow.” The way you whimpered made the devil in him purr.

Miguel takes your legs and parts them as he sits back against his own. He enjoys the view of your spread form while he removes his boxers and tosses them on the floor. From the angle, you can see the spring of his cock. Fear makes you go cold at the sight. He was long, thick, bigger than anything you’d seen before. For a moment, you wonder if it were going to fit at all. Miguel closes a fist around his base and strokes himself twice as he lines up against you. “Big breath, kiddo.”

You realized too late that his venom that left you paralyzed had also weakened your muscles. When you tried to clench and fight his insertion, your body did nothing more than twitch. Smiling, Miguel nudges the fat, weeping tip of his cock into you and he grunts. “Dios-“he sighs, biting his lip while he trained his eyes in the spot you two connected.

“Look at you, taking me so well.” There is a flash of teeth as he edges himself inside. The stretch is excruciating, especially for your first time. Miguel’s cock was relentlessly thick, filling you to a capacity you didn’t know you had. Hearing the curling whimpers in your chest, he stops and looks down at you thoughtfully. “Almost there, you’re doing great.” You feel revulsed when he winks at you.

The venom kept your body relaxed, making it easier for him to violate you. As he eases inside, you see stars as he presses somewhere deep within you. Miguel’s pubic bone pushes against your swollen clit as he bottoms out, groaning salaciously at the squeeze of your cunt around him. His large hands find their way onto the back of your knees, and he guides one of your legs over his broad shoulder.

“I bet you thought it wouldn’t fit,” he taunts, smiling and biting his lip as he begins to slowly draw back. Miguel’s cock grinds every nerve in your canal, setting fireworks off beneath your skin and making you shriek and grunt in the back of your throat. You hated how full he made you feel.

With a firm jut of his hips, Miguel sinks inside of you and groans as your pelvises collide. He curses again, repeating the motion before lowering himself to cage your body under his own. “Take it,” He gasps, his head dropping to your neck. His breath pants across your skin, warming you further as he drives his cock home. The man begins to rabbit himself inside of you, using your pussy as he saw fit and throwing any concern for your lack of experience to the wind. It didn’t matter that you hadn’t had time to properly stretch, you were his now and meant to be taken. “G-good girl,” he pants, licking over the bruising bite mark he left on the nape of your neck. “S-so s-shocking good.” He laughs dryly, biting you once more without penetrating your skin. Pain blooms in your shoulder and you whine, your eyes closing as you see spots.

Miguel’s pace is relentless. He pounds into you with reckless abandon, bouncing your smaller body repeatedly up the bed and making your shitty mattress creak noisily. It felt as though the air was being forcefully shoved from your lungs, his cock spearing inside with such strength you think he may break your pelvis. The worst was the way he praised you, rumbling as you took him, calling you his good girl over and over. You were rising again, once more against your will as your attacker defiled you.

“That’s it, t-that’s it.” He gasps. Miguel was coming closer to the edge with each thrust, knowing he’d never be the same after this night; after finding you. He whimpers against your throat, the sound pathetic for a man with his strength. You see stars as he ruts sloppily, his thrusts uneven as he came apart above you. Ramming his cock to the root, the man shudders and growls, his muscle rippling as his cock throbbed and began to empty. The hot, heavy spurts of cum impacting and oozing against your cervix, coating your insides. While he slowed, his stomach pressed and ground just right against your clit, making you whimper much quieter this time. You throb, your eyes rolling back in your skull as you flutter and squeeze weakly around him. Miguel grunts again, then smiles impishly against your throat.

“Not so bad for a first time, huh?”

Sitting up, Miguel pecks a kiss to your lips before sitting back on his legs and casting his attention downwards. He watched as he began to withdraw from you, his cock coated in your joined fluids. There was a deeply sickening tremor of satisfaction as he watched his cum begin to dribble out. A part of him hoped his seed would take; he was certain you’d be just as beautiful with your belly swollen. You keep your eyes closed, not wanting to see his face. At least, you reason, it was over, and he would leave, and you could try to pick the pieces of yourself back up.

Miguel hummed, slipping off the bed and pulling on his boxers as he steals a look around your room. Once dressed, his suit reformed around his body in a glimmer of hard light. All but his mask. “Alright, let’s get you dressed and ready for the trip home.” Ice floods your veins and the nausea returned. Your eyes open and try to focus on him as the room begins to spin. “What? You thought this was just some random encounter?” His lips stretch into a smile as he holds his hands out. “First of all, I’m hurt, secondly, I’m going to try really hard to pack you some of your favorite stuff, I’ll supplement anything else you need.” Miguel hums as he walks to your closet in search of luggage containers.

Tears streak from your eyes and obscure your vision again. Your chest was so tight you felt certain you were going to break. He packs things for you while you panic, wanting to sob and beg him to leave, to apologize and tell him you were wrong about Spiderman. A sob escapes you as your chest shakes, your eyes closing again as you weep. Your body was sore, filled to the brim with this man’s fluids, and you knew you’d never be clean or safe again. Miguel glances at you from over his shoulder and smiles anyways.

You would learn to love him.

He just knew it.

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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months

Text

Escape II

Bruna Vilamala x Eriksson!Reader

Hardersson x Sister!Reader

Summary: Your sister meets your girlfriend

In a feat of amazing strength and character, Bruna ended up tackling both Frido and Ingrid to the ground and distracting them for long enough for you and Lena to make a break to it.

You made good on your promise and took her to dinner at some up class fancy restaurant that you both ended up abandoning in favour of some greasy fried food that absolutely broke your diets.

You'd been with each otherever since, flying back and forth between Spain and Germany to spend time together. You go on holiday with each other. You go to the markets.

Your whole life used to be football and trying to make sure Lena didn't do something stupid like argue with the wrong player. Now Bruna slipped in too.

Football.

Bruna.

Making sure Lena didn't split her head open on a rock.

Bruna.

"Do you want to meet my sisters?"

Bruna's head is on your shoulder, staring at the tv as she flicks between channels. "What?"

"Well, I guess, Pernille's not actually my sister but she and Magda have been gross and in love for years so she's practically my sister too. Would you like to meet them?"

Bruna looked confused. "They know about me?"

"Was I meant to keep you a secret?" You teased, leaning down to kiss her. "You don't have to meet them if you don't want to. They'll be in town in a few days so I just wanted to put the offer on the table."

Bruna still looked a bit anxious. "You can't just say that like it's nothing. It's Magdalena Eriksson and Pernille Harder. They're practically living legends."

"They're idiots," You replied decisively," And they're just coming round so they can mooch off me and get in my business. They'll probably ask you if you really tackled Frido and then Magda might even give you a medal."

"I thought she and Frido were friends."

You shrugged. "They are but they like seeing each other in uncomfortable situations. True friendship and whatever." You flung your arm around Bruna. "Do you want to meet them?"

"I'll meet them."

Magda and Pernille arrived promptly in front of your apartment at ten in the morning a few days later and you rolled off the sofa with a groan. Bruna hovered by your shoulder, shifting her weight from one foot to another as you opened the door.

Magda grabbed at you easily, pulling you into a headlock and rubbing her knuckles over your hair.

"Hey! Hey! Get off!"

Pernille slipped through your grappling bodies to shake Bruna's hand - who was staring wide-eyed in shock at the way you and your sister immediately started fighting.

"Don't mind them," Pernille said," They'll knock if off soon. Have you guys got any juice?" She didn't wait for an answer, just heading straight for the fridge to pour herself a glass.

Bruna watched as you tore yourself from Magda's grip, jumping onto her back and trying to force her to the ground.

"Aren't you meant to be mature?" Magda said condescendingly, pinching at your cheek. "I don't think your girlfriend's very happy at seeing you act like such a child."

Bruna blushed heavily at being introduced into the conversation and opened and closed her mouth several times before settling on not speaking.

"Just because I'm younger and more talented-" You shoved Magda away and smoothed out your t-shirt "-Doesn't mean that you have to be so jealous."

"Jealous?" Magda scoffed," D'you hear that Pernille? She thinks I'm jealous! Hey, I made you into the player you are today."

"The only thing you made me do," You said with an eye roll, sliding over to rest a hand on Bruna's waist," Is run away to Germany to get away from your big head. But, of course, you followed me here too, you stalker."

Magda flicked you on the forehead before turning to Bruna.

"Terribly sorry you have to put up with her all the time," She said," I'm Magda, the prettier, more talented sister."

"You've got a girlfriend!" You lifted Bruna away. "Don't try and steal mine!"

Magda shrugged. "I can't help it if I'm more charming than you."

"Magda," Pernille said across the room in warning.

Magda quickly sent her a smile, suddenly red face and embarrassed. "But, of course, no one compares to you, Pernille."

"Hmm. I thought so."

"They're so gross," You whispered to Bruna though with the fondness of somebody who had been around this kind of stuff for years. You grinned at her, all confidence and cockiness. "I want to be like that with you in a few years."

Bruna's cheeks coloured slightly at your declaration. "I...I'd like that too."

"What are you smiling about?" Magda asked as your face lit up like a kid on their birthday.

"Nothing you need to worry about, nosey. I don't budge into your conversations with Pernille, do I?"

Magda groaned loudly. "How do you put up with her, Bruna? You deserve a medal."

"Don't mind them," Pernille said, finally inserting herself into the conversation properly after suitably raiding your fridge for refreshments," It's very nice to meet you, Bruna."

She jerked her head over to where you and Magda were bickering again, quick Swedish being traded between you two.

"Why don't we go and sit down and let them sort each other out?"

"Are they okay? I mean, do they not need to be interrupted?"

"They're always like this," Pernille said dismissively," Give them another ten minutes and they'll come back laughing. Now, I'm more interested in how you two met. Frido said that you tackled her?"

True to her word, it only took ten minutes for you and Magda to calm down, clapping each other on the back and laughing like you hadn't just squabbled and physically fought each other for the past half an hour.

Magda collapsed in the armchair next to Pernille while you slouched next to Bruna, an arm automatically wrapping around her shoulders.

"It's nice to meet you," Magda said eventually," I've heard all about you from Frido."

For some reason that made Bruna feel a bit nervous. "All good?"

"Excellent, more like," Magda said," Which is a little annoying because I was banking on you being insufferable. I've got this track record of hating all of y/n's partners but you're as clean as a whistle. Begrudgingly, I have to like you."

"High praise from Magda," You whispered in Bruna's ears," Congrats, babe, you're officially the favourite sister."

Her face flushed an even deeper red than earlier. "That quickly?"

"That quickly."

You leaned down to press a kiss to Bruna's lips, taking quite a lot of care to not deepen it while Magda and Pernille were over.

"If you two are done sucking face," Magda said," Can we order food now? I'm starving."

#woso x reader #bruna vilamala x reader #bruna vilamala #hardersson x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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charmandabear · 1 month

Text

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy

Summary:

Just some nice little smut inspired by Noctis’ Rockstarion render as well as Purple Danger Noodle’s incredible art. (Seen above, and I have permission to post this!)

Pairing: Astarion/Halsin Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2k Tags/Warnings: modern au, rock band au, band manager halsin, rockstarion, anal fingering, hand job, anal sex, desk sex, soft daddy dom Halsin, brat Astarion, blood drinking

I’d been meaning to post this for a while, but I figured today is a good day because tonight I’ll be streaming my Astarion origin run, right in time for Halsin’s romance scene! Check me out on Twitch, I’ll be streaming at 7:30 Central time. Hope to see you there!

Read it on AO3

Astarion swaggers offstage, covered in sweat and glitter, endorphins running high. He bursts into Halsin’s office only to find his manager bent over some papers with a serious expression on his face. Well, this simply won’t do at all. He pops himself onto the corner of Halsin’s desk, leather pants squeaking as he crosses his legs. Halsin glances up at him over his glasses, unamused by the rock star’s antics.

“Astarion,” he says in a low voice, a warning. A cheeky grin slides onto Astarion’s face as he nudges Halsin’s thigh with the toe of his boot. Halsin sighs, takes off his glasses, and stands to tower over Astarion.

“Another charge from the hotel. What on God’s green earth possessed you to steal the hair dryer? Did you need to rip it out of the wall?” He folds his beefy arms and fixes Astarion with a reproachful stare. Astarion uncrosses his legs and leans back on his hands, returning Halsin’s stern look with an impish one. Halsin steps between Astarion’s legs and slides a hand into his long silvery locks, giving a quick little tug. Astarion’s mouth pops open as a satisfied groan escapes his painted lips, his hips tipping forward to try to close the distance between them.

Halsin pulls him into a hard kiss, pressing his groin against the growing bulge in Astarion’s pants. He slips his tongue past the musician’s lips, the acrid taste of menthol cigarettes and tequila lingering in his mouth. He breaks the kiss, keeping their faces in close proximity.

“I thought I told you to stop smoking those awful things,” he says gruffly. “They’ll ruin your voice and then I’ll be out of a job.”

“Don’t worry, Daddy Halsin, with a talent like yours you’ll never be out of a job,” he says with a breathy chuckle, and reaches forward to palm his manager’s cock, earning a low grumble in return. Halsin tightens his hand in Astarion’s hair, who gasps and pulls his lips back into a smile, his fangs glinting in the low light of the office.

“I’ve told you not to call me that.” Halsin’s tone is threatening, but his rutting hips give him away. Astarion hooks his thigh high boots around Halsin’s waist and pulls him closer.

“So do something about it, daddy,” Astarion taunts, and with a single motion Halsin tears through Astarion’s pants, the leather ripping easily at the seams. The rock star isn’t wearing any underwear, most likely because he knew he was going to get lucky one way or another. His cock springs forth, pink bulbous tip already leaking with a drop of precum. Halsin takes it in his hand and swipes his thumb over the slit, gathering the liquid onto his finger.

“Open,” he commands and Astarion obeys instinctively, taking his thumb into his mouth and sucking ferociously. The taste of himself dances over his tongue and he looks up at Halsin with round coquettish eyes. Halsin returns the look, heavy lidded, his breath stuttering as Astarion’s tongue swirls around his thumb. With his other hand, he quickly undoes his belt, pulling out his own girthy cock and letting it land with a thump on the desk. When Astarion sees it, his moan vibrates through Halsin’s hand.

Halsin curls his fingers around Astarion’s jaw and pulls him forward so his lips can press against the pale elf’s ear.

“Little one, how much of my cock do you think you’ll be able to take tonight? A third? Half?” he hums in a low tone, and Astarion shudders.

“All of it, please,” he whimpers as he pops Halsin’s thumb out of his mouth, a trail of saliva still connected to his lips. Halsin utters a low and dangerous chuckle, taking his slick thumb and pressing it to Astarion’s puckering rim.

“Will you let me take the time to stretch you out properly? You have not been known for your patience, historically.” He pushes his thumb past his entrance and Astarion rewards him with a needy whine.

“Yes, please, I’ll be patient,” he says through gasping breaths, “just please don’t stop.” He lets his vinyl jacket slide off his arms and latches his hands onto the back of Halsin’s neck to brace himself.

Continuing to work his thumb inside Astarion, Halsin’s hand fumbles with his desk drawer, pulling out a jar of coconut oil. He yanks one of Astarion’s hands from his neck and presses the jar into his palm.

“Be good and open it for me, would you, love?” He grunts, focusing his energy on twisting and pumping his thumb. Astarion opens the jar eagerly, holding it out for Halsin to scoop it with his unoccupied hand. The sweet smell he now associates with fucking his manager wafts up to his nose and his cock twitches in response.

“Coming around on the coconut oil, are you?” Halsin laughs, and Astarion makes a failed attempt to pout.

“You fucking hippie,” he gasps, his voice completely overtaken by desire. Halsin takes a generous chunk of the white substance and it quickly melts on his warm fingers. He pulls out his thumb and replaces it with two oiled digits and Astarion drops the jar somewhere on the carpeted floor.

“That better not have broken, my Star,” Halsin warns as Astarion pushes himself further down onto his thick fingers. He roughly grabs the vampire’s pointed chin, holding it tight between his forefingers and the thumb that had just been inside him. “Understood? I’d rather not have to punish you for something so trivial.” A wide grin breaks out across Astarion’s lips.

“I promise, Daddy Halsin, when you punish me it will be for a very good reason,” he replies wickedly, running his tongue across the tip of his fangs. Halsin let out a primal growl before silencing him with another fierce kiss. He roughly thrusts his fingers into Astarion, putting the weight of his hips behind it. Halsin’s throbbing cock skids across the glossy surface of the desk, aching to be inside his obstinate charge. He scissors his fingers hastily and Astarion cries into his lips, hooking his heels into the soft flesh of Halsin’s ass.

“Well then why don’t you put those pretty little lips to good use before you give me one?” Halsin growls, pulling his fingers out and replacing them with the tip of his cock. He bares his neck to Astarion whose tongue darts over his lips hungrily. “Kissing and licking only, you must earn the right to bite,” he clarifies and Astarion lets out an exasperated whine that gets quickly cut off by Halsin pushing into him.

“Fuck, Astarion,” he groans as the musician licks the sweat from his neck. “You’re so tight, are you sure you can take it?”

“Yes, please,” he says on a breathy moan, his fingers coiling into Halsin’s auburn hair. “I need to feel you, I need to taste you, please, I can take it, I promise, I’ll be so good for you.”

Halsin laughs quietly; he has such a way with lyrics, and yet it’s still so easy to reduce him to a babbling mess. He slides in a little deeper, Astarion panting and squeezing his eyes shut. Halsin grabs his chin again and brings the musician’s gaze to him.

“Look at me, my Star, look at me and breathe,” he coos gently and Astarion’s wet eyes lock onto Halsin’s face. He kisses him again, languid and slow this time, and pushes in a little further. “That’s my good boy, taking me so well.” Halsin strokes Astarion’s neglected cock, earning a stuttered whimper in response. His hips cant into Halsin’s hand, desire and need driving him forward.

“You’re almost there,” Halsin continues his tender coaxing, “and you feel so good, my Star.” His forehead falls onto Astarion’s shoulder, the spice from his cologne overtaking his senses. He’s trying to control his speed, but his head grows cloudy with the rocker’s heady scent and he pushes a little too fast. Astarion cries out in response and Halsin instinctively pulls out slightly.

“No, please don’t stop,” Astarion mewls pathetically, “I can take it, I need you inside me, please Halsin.”

“So hungry,” Halsin laughs, “but for my cock or my blood, I wonder?” Astarion clings to his hair and tightens his legs, pulling Halsin in completely until he bottoms out. They both groan loudly, their voices mixing together in a symphony of hedonistic desire.

“Hnng, such a good boy,” Halsin wheezes and tilts his head, exposing his neck. “My good boy has earned his reward.” Astarion sinks his fangs into Halsin’s thick jugular and drinks deeply, his sweet blood flooding his mouth and rushing directly to his cock. He grabs onto the collar of Halsin’s button down, his breaths coming in short stuttered puffs with each thrust of Halsin’s cock. Halsin growls wordlessly into Astarion’s ear, his lips brushing against the tip. Astarion unlatches from Halsin’s neck, blood dripping down his front and splashing onto his chest, seeping easily through his mesh shirt.

“Must you always leave a mess wherever you go?” Halsin grumbles and Astarion lasciviously licks blood off his fingers.

“But you’ll put up with it for this tight little hole,” he responds with a cheeky grin, the recent blood he drank making him bold. Halsin roughly pulls out of him and grabs the leather collar around his neck, pulling him closer.

“What was that about me punishing you for a good reason?” he hisses, and before Astarion can respond the burly elf has him flipped around and bent over the desk, his rock hard cock caught between the smooth mahogany and the leather strap across his stomach. Halsin grabs hold of Astarion’s silver locks and pulls his head up as he continues fucking him from behind.

“You’ll clean up after yourself, won’t you little Star? Say ‘Yes, Daddy Halsin.’” Halsin’s voice is gruff and stuttered, and Astarion can tell he’s getting close. The friction from Halsin’s thrusts pushing his cock into the desk is bringing Astarion to the precipice as well.

“I thought you didn’t like it when I called you that,” Astarion rasps, his words losing some of their sharp edge given how strangled they are. Halsin pulls harder on Astarion’s hair and the rock star gasps out a laugh.

“Yes, Daddy Halsin,” he huffs, and his compliance earns him Halsin’s hand on his cock. He groans with relief, pushing his hips back into his manager’s while also thrusting into his hand.

“My beautiful Star,” he grunts into Astarion's shoulder, his thrusts losing pace and growing erratic. Astarion lets his head fall back, breathing heavy, losing himself in the sensations. Halsin pumps his hand vigorously and moans loudly when Astarion comes, his seed spilling over his fingers and dripping down onto the desk. A few more rough thrusts and Halsin's coming too, groaning and feeling Astarion clench around his pulsing cock.

The two of them still, panting and coming down off their sex-induced high. Halsin kisses Astarion’s shoulder and pulls out, stepping back to survey the damage. He has blood splattered across his collar and down his arm, sweat and semen mix together in the crumpled mess of papers on the desk. Astarion leans forward on his hands, giggling.

Halsin tucks his softening cock back into his pants and straightens his bloodied shirt.

“Well now,” he says in a much more genial tone, “you can get started on cleaning up all of this, and I think I'll go take a shower.” Astarion whips around, fixing Halsin with a shocked glare.

“There is no way in hell am I cleaning up this mess,” he pouts, and Halsin hooks a finger through the o-ring on Astarion's collar, a dangerous smile playing on his lips.

“You will, little Star, if you don't want the hotel damages to come out of your bottom line,” he murmurs, reaching around and giving Astarion’s bare ass cheek a tight squeeze. “But I suppose you've earned the right to clean yourself up first.” He tugs on Astarion's collar and the musician stumbles forward, his lips curling into a smile as Halsin leads him to the shower in the adjacent room.

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fxrmuladaydreams · 7 months

Text

make it work (mv33)

max x reader , george x reader (platonic) , toto x reader (paternal)

summary: you and max try to find a way to make your now very public relationship work

prev part

The following days after the Twitter reveal are spent staying inside Max’s apartment. Neither of you really leaves unless absolutely necessary. There’s a thick tension in the air now as well, as if you’re both walking on broken glass.

When it’s finally time for the next grand prix and your meeting with Toto you and Max discuss how you’re going to enter the paddock. In fear of making things worse you make the decision to not go in together, that way there’s less of a chance you’ll be swarmed by reporters.

You come in with George, who’s quick to put an arm over your shoulders and steer you away from any cameras.

“Netflix would have a field day.” He says under his breath as he pulls you towards the Mercedes building.

George lets you go once you’ve made it inside, looking around at all of the other Mercedes employees. Some of them give you weird looks, like they’re judging you, but most give you sympathetic glances, as if they know how all of this is going to play out.

You watch all of the media panels throughout the day. Whenever asked about your relationship Lewis says he had no idea what was going on, George says it was a surprise to everyone but he wishes the best for all parties involved, and Max snaps that he’s only there to talk about racing, nothing else.

Max meets with you after press is done for the day, the two of you heading into the Mercedes building to speak with Toto.

George exits the office just as you’re about to go in. He gives you a sympathetic smile and squeezes your hand.

You enter the office with Max behind you. Sitting behind the desk is Toto, looking down at some paperwork. Standing next to him is Christian Horner. You’re surprised to see the two of them together and not biting each other’s heads off.

“Sit.” Toto gestures to the two chairs at the opposite side of the desk. He looks up at you as you sit down, and tosses his glasses onto the desk.

You all stare at each other in silence for a moment, as if deciding who should speak first. Toto is the one to break the silence.

“Do the two of you realize what kind of trouble you have caused us?” His asks quietly. His eyes travel back and forth between you and Max. He sighs and leans back in his chair. “I can’t fire George, he’s still got a few years on his contract.” He points at Max. “I can’t fire you, because you’re not my driver.” Then he looks at you. “But Y/n, you are my assistant. You are the person I entrust with handling a lot of work that would be detrimental to the team if a rival were to find out.”

“I swear I haven’t said anything about anything.” You shake your head.

“It’s true.” Max chimes in. “She hasn’t spilled any secrets. It wouldn’t matter anyway though, seeing as I’m driving the better car.”

Christian laughs, only stopping when Toto gives him a stern look.

“The point is the two of you need to sort this out. Tell everyone that this was just a fling and it’s over.” Toto says.

“That’s not happening.” Max crosses his arms over his chest.

Christian sighs. “I told you he was stubborn.”

He looks at Max who just stares back up at him. You’d seen moments between the two of them before. They shared a father-son type of relationship. It was clear that Christian truly cared for Max and only wanted the best for him.

“We’re not breaking up. So find another solution to your problem.” Max looks back at Toto.

Toto glances back at you. “Y/n, I’d like to speak with you alone.”

Christian walks towards the door while Max turns to you.

“I’ll be fine.” You nod, giving him a soft smile.

He stands up, leans down to kiss the top of your head, then follows Christian out.

“That’s quite the headstrong young man.” Toto pulls your attention back to him.

“He cares about the people he loves.”

“And he loves you?” Toto raises a brow.

You feel your face heat up. “I mean, I think so. He’s sweet to me. He takes care of me.”

“And you love him?”

“Yes.” The answer comes out quicker than you expected.

Toto sighs, then stands up and walks to the front of his desk, leaning against it. “I care about you Y/n. You’re the first assistant I’ve had that’s been able to keep up with all the work I’ve piled on them. You get along well with both Lewis and George. You’re a lovely person. But dating Max Verstappen is a line I didn’t think you’d cross.”

You sink down in your seat, just waiting for the final blow.

“I trust that you haven’t given him any information about us. And I believe that you do for some reason truly care about that menace of a boy outside.” He nods towards the door. “So I’m sure that there’s a way we can make sure this works for everyone.”

You sit up straighter as your eyes search Toto’s for any chance that he’s lying.

“Really?”

“You’ll both beed to sign a few NDAs, but I’m sure it will be manageable.” He nods.

Before you can stop yourself, you stand up and wrap your arms around Toto, pulling him into a hug. He slowly pats your shoulders, returning your hug in an awkward way.

“Thank you. Thank you. I promise you won’t regret this.” Your eyes well up with tears.

“We’ll see. Just make sure I don’t see a Red Bull driver wandering around our garage.” He says with a smile.

You nod, then exit Toto’s office. Max leans against the wall next to the door, not having even left the hall. He cups your face with his hands. “You’re crying. What happened?”

“Nothing, they’re good tears.” You grin at him. “You were right. Everything’s okay.”

He smiles. “When have I ever been wrong?” He wraps his arms around your waist.

He leans down to kiss you just as the door to the office swings open.

“No Red Bull drivers allowed in the Mercedes building. Out.” Toto nods down the hall.

Over the next few days lawyers draw up NDAs for both you and Max to sign. He complains about it while you scribble your name on the papers. He signs just under your name though, promising he won’t reveal any secret Red Bull information to you.

It feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders after you sign the forms, like you’re no longer buried under this huge secret anymore.

You can walk through the paddock hand in hand now. You can give him a good luck kiss before he has to go to his garage. And you can finally be there to celebrate his wins with him.

The Red Bull photographers snap a photo of the two of you after that race. Max tugs his helmet off his head, then practically runs over to you. You stand with the other Mercedes staff, your white polo clashing with his blue race suit. His hair is pointing in all different directions, and his skin shines with sweat, but the smile on his face is breathtaking. He pulls you into a kiss over the fence. It’s sloppy, and uncoordinated, and the crowd screams their heads off.

Later that night you see a notification from Instagram. It’s a shared post, from both Red Bull and Mercedes.

redbullracing and mercedesamgf1

liked by georgerussell63 and 58,635 others

tagged: maxverstappen1 and yourusername

redbullracing Our favorite couple on the grid 💙❤️ + 🩵🤍

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #formula one x reader #formula one #mv33

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straykeedz · 7 months

Text

day 22: felix + dry humping

©straykeedz

tw: bff2l trope bc you know me; female anatomy; masturbation (m); ♡

wc: 3,2k;

this is part of my kinktober masterlist. you can find my regular masterlist here (tho it will not be updated until the end of kinktober) ♡

🔖 : @linos-kitten ; @luneskies ; @kxcies-blog ; @idunnomanmynamewastaken ; @cessixja ; @stolasisyourparent ; @kookiesbunny ; @xoxo-xoxo-bunny ; @ivyskzsworld ; @mal-lunar-28 ; @leetaste ; @sunnykynnie ; @channiesgoodgirl ; @seonghwatoothless ; @mrsminho ; @seungminluv3 ; @jin-from-the-block ; @aaasia111 ; @sulkygyu ; @whosanaanyway ; @y-ur--I ; @vixensss ; @nightimescapes ; @freckleboilix ; @dreamingaboutjisung ; @yourbeomiebear ; @tooskathepiratefromshield ; ; ♡

to make sure i add you to the taglist, your age must be clearly visible on your profile. also, empty blogs will not be added - add at least a profile picture to your blog so that i’ll know you’re not a bot. ♡

smut below the cut, minors dni

⛺︎

“Never have I ever…” Minho starts, smirking slyly at you and you know what he’s about to say. That little fucker. “…had feelings for my best friend.”

What follows Minho’s words are a few seconds of pure, awkward silence, air so thick it could be cut with a knife. You’re sitting by the fire, tents already set up and a few empty bottles of beer and other kinds of liquor by your feet - however neither of you is too drunk to not understand what’s going on, Minho’s words still lingering in the air.

Felix is shocked two times.

The first time is when he sees Jisung raise his glass, glance at Minho, and let out a heavy sigh as he brings it to his lips, swallowing the liquid in one go. The second time is when you raise your glass and bring it to your lips, taking a sip of the bitter liquid, scrunching your nose once you’re finished, avoiding Felix’s gaze at all costs.

For a second there, he’s unable to think - mind going blank because, fuck, he’s your best friend. And Minho’s words… and you drinking… does this mean? Perhaps you… He should drink, too, let you know that he has feelings for you two, but he’s too late.

“Never have I ever…” Seungmin starts, but Felix’s not paying attention to his friend’s words.

His eyes trail back and forth to you, and then to Jisung. You and his hyung are exchanging sad, sympathetic smiles and all he wants to do is tell you that you’ve got it all wrong - that he reciprocates your feelings and he’s just a stupid coward who hasn’t got the balls to confess to you. On the other hand, Minho doesn’t seem to have understood what happened between you and Jisung, at least not until Chan elbows him and whispers something in his ear. Then, Minho’s expression matches Felix’s - shocked, speechless, confused, guilty.

Then, after a few more turns playing the stupid game, Felix sees you standing up, your figure hidden by the oversized sweater you’re wearing - sleeves too long he can’t see your hands, but he just knows you’re fidgeting with your rings or picking at your skin or fingernails, that’s something you always do when you’re feeling uncomfortable. He wishes he could take your hands in his, run his thumb over your knuckles to get you to relax. He wishes he could find the courage in himself to tell you, tell you how he feels towards you.

“I’m going inside, feel tired.”, you announce, and Felix can tell by the tone of your voice that you’re not really tired, that there’s something on your mind, that you’re preoccupied. “Goodnight guys.”

He should come with you - he shouldn’t miss the chance to confront you about what happened a few minutes ago, he should stand up and follow you into your shared tent for the night, but somehow his limbs just won’t move and he ends up being anchored to his spot. Coward, he scold himself, shaking his head.

You, on the other hand, in the thin confines of the tent Felix spent a ridiculous amount of time setting up, are silently praying to yourself that sleep will find you before Felix enters the tent, so that to avoid the risk of being confronted by whatever the fuck happened out there. You should’ve known that your secret wouldn’t be safe with Minho, but you weren’t expecting it to come out tonight of all nights.

Staring at the ceiling, wrapped in your blanket in your sleeping bag, you can’t help but relieve the moment all over again in your head. Why the fuck did you drink? You could’ve pretended, but no, Minho would’ve exposed you either way. And Felix… Felix hadn’t drunk. Forcing yourself to close your eyes and try to sleep, you realize you have to face the hard truth - Felix doesn’t have feelings for you, he only sees you as his best friend.

Too lost in your train of thought, you don’t hear Felix zipping the tent door open, entering your shared space for the night. Right now, you wish you had your own tent - your own, personal space, so that you don’t have to sleep next to him. On top of that, you’re supposed to share the sleeping bag tonight. Anyhow, you close your eyes shut a little too late, and Felix notices.

“Y/n? Are you awake?”, he asks.

You don’t answer, hoping to fool him with your poor acting. Felix knows the reason why you’re trying to avoid him, and he feels crushed, knowing he’s the reason you’re feeling sad and hurt right now. He’s the worst best friend ever. He sighs, turning on the night lamp to change into his pyjamas, which consists of an oversized hoodie and some sweats. Then, once he’s ready for bed, he gets under the covers - beside you. The air is tense, and now it’s his turn to stare at the ceilings - if you can call it that -, unable to fall asleep, and he knows you’re not asleep as well.

“Y/n…”, his deep voice makes you get goosebumps all over your skin. “I’m sorry.”, he whispers.

Of course, you don’t answer - you’re still pretending to be asleep, after all. However, you’re curious, what is he sorry about?

“I should’ve done something, anything.”, he says, and your breath gets stuck in your throat. “Fuck- I should have drunk, too.”

“Don’t, Felix, please.”, your voice comes out in a desperate whisper.

You don’t want him to feel like he has to do something about what happened out there, and you most definitely not want him to feel forced to say he feels the same when, clearly, he doesn’t. You keep telling yourself that it’s okay if he doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, you’ll just have to get over your crush and then your friendship will go back to normal without hard feelings between the two of you.

“Wha- why?”

You sigh. “Because it makes me feel worse. Can’t we just forget about it?”

“I can’t forget, y/n.” Felix argues, and God, you hate his stubbornness.

“Felix-“, you start, but he interrupts you.

“I have feelings for you, too.”

His words make your blood run cold. He did not just say that. You know he probably said it just to make you feel less bad about being blatantly rejected in front of all your friends. However, your heart starts beating fast in your chest.

“You’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re saying.”, you scoff, shaking your head, clearly not believing him. Why would you, after all? He’s never shown any interest in youin that way. Well, neither have you, but that’s not the point.

“I’m not drunk. You know I’m not.”

He’s right. Felix always slurs his words and starts giggling like a child when he’s drunk. Also, he gets incredibly red in the face and all touchy. And right now, he’s not doing any of these things. So you believe him.

“Felix, stop.”, you sigh. “Stop getting my hopes up, it’s not fair.”

He hears how whiny your voice sounds, and all he wants to do is wrap his arms around you and pull you close, but he decides to respect your boundaries. After all, you’re still on your side, you haven’t turned around to look at him. It feels a hundred times harder, confessing his feelings for you this way, and it’s not how he imagined he would do it.

“I’m serious, y/n.” Felix says. “I really do have feelings for you in a romantic way.”, he explicitly says.

You turn around, lying on your back, not looking at him yet. You fidget with the hem of your hoodie. “Then why… why didn’t you drink when Minho… when he…”, you trail, unable to get the words out of your mouth as you repeat the scene over and over in your head.

“Because I’m a coward, that’s why.” Felix quickly says.

You two stay quiet for a while, just staring at the ceiling, laying next to each other in the silence of your tent. Your hearts are beating fast in your chests, and you’re both smiling like idiots, from ear to ear, and Felix is proud of himself for finally confessing to you after months- no, years, of bottling up his feelings.

“So, you… you have feelings for me.”, you mumble.

“Mh-hm.” Felix hums.

“And I have feelings for you.”

He hums again.

You finally turn to look at him, shifting your body on your side, and he does the same. You’re face to face, smiling timidly at each other, and he looks so beautiful, his features clearly visible thanks to the warm, faint light provided by the night lamp.

“Felix, can you… can you kiss me?”, you mumble timidly, shifting your gaze from his face to your hands.

He shifts under the covers, getting closer to your body. Despite his shaking hands, he manages to move a lock of hair from your cheek, and he gets even closer - you can now feel his breath on your mouth. When his nose brushes yours, you both close you eyes in anticipation, and the next thing you know, Felix’s lips are on yours.

You’re kissing. Fuck, you’re really kissing Felix. And honestly, it does feel a bit weird to kiss your best friend, but you like the feeling. It’s clumsy and timid and so, so overwhelming in the best way possible. You just hope it’s the same for him. When you pull away, you look at him, and you’re both red in the face.

“So, uh… how was it?” Felix asks, trying his best to look you in the eyes despite his nervousness.

“Weird.”, you say with a smile.

“Oh.” Felix’s face drops.

“Good weird.”, you clarify.

“Oh.” Felix rises his eyebrows, there’s a sparkle in his eyes and a smile on his face. His body instantly relaxes. “Can we… do it again?”

You nod, and this time it’s you who pulls him closer, crashing your lips on his, placing your hand on his cheek, then move it to the nape of his neck, toying with his hair as you deepen the kiss. His tongue brushes your lower lip, then enters your mouth slowly, delicately - just as he entered your life. You pull away from each other only to catch your breaths, and then you’re back to kissing as if you wanted to make up for all the time you could’ve been doing this.

And then you feel it.

A hard bulge, pressing against your abdomen. He’s hard. He’s kissing you and he’s hard. Because of you. The thought’s enough to make your head spin, and you want to do something about it, but at the same time don’t want to take things too far. Sleeping with him, or even foreplay, is a big step, and you don’t want it to happen for the first time while you’re in a tent, camping, with your friends nearby. But you want to take them just a little bit further - after all, you’re turned on, too, wetness pooling in your underwear.

Felix pulls away from the kiss and rests his forehead against yours, moving the lower part of his body so that his hard-on is not pressing against you anymore. “Sorry.”, he chuckles, embarrassed.

“It’s okay.”, you reassure him.

“Sometimes it just happens, dicks are weird, you know?”, the tips of his ears are red.

“Oh, so it’s not because I turn you on?”, you quirk an eyebrow at him, and he’s left speechless, mouth agape as if he wanted to say something, eyes open wide.

“I- no, you… I mean, you do. But- I thought-“, he stutters, unable to get a full sentence out.

“You’re so cute.”, you bite your lip and smile at him, before pulling him in for another kiss, rolling your hips against his so that his crotch brushes yours once more. You grind against it, and a muffle sound escapes his mouth.

“Y/n-“, your name falls from his lips easily, and his hand finds your waist to halt your movements. “You… we don’t… I mean-“

“How about we take things just a little bit further?”, you whisper on his lips, looking him in the eye so he knows you’re serious about this and you really want it.

He blinks a few times as he processes your words. “Are you sure?”, he asks, and you nod, convinced.

“Mh-hm…”, you peck his lips once more. “Just… touch each other over the clothes, maybe?”, you suggest.

Felix nods. “Okay.”, he licks his lips and then kisses you, before he starts grinding his hips against yours.

To be honest, you can’t feel that much. You’re both wearing sweats since it’s cold outside, and the layers don’t really provide enough friction between your bodies. You’re sure Felix feels the same, but of course he won’t mention it - he’s too respectful of your boundaries.

“Can we- maybe take some clothes off?”, you pant, breaking the kiss.

“We can do whatever you’re comfortable with.”

You undress yourselves until you’re both left in your underwear only. You’ve seen Felix shirtless countless of times, but this time’s different. All the other times he didn’t have a boner pressed against your clothed cunt, he wasn’t grinding against you, desperate for some friction. Pretty, hoarse grunts didn’t leave his mouth all the other times, and his hand wasn’t gripping your hip.

“Does it feel good?”, he groans, hot dick resting against your folds, brushing your clit with each movement of his hips.

You do feel good, but somehow it’s not enough. “I- yes,” you reassure him, seeing he was already panicking. “It feels good, but…”

“Not enough?”

You shake your head slowly, sighing. “It feels good, I promise, it’s just…”

“You want more?”, he asks with a deep voice, and you clench around nothing.

You nod, knowing he’s not suggesting sex - neither of you is ready to do it properly. Not here, not tonight.

“Maybe we can try… I mean, we would be naked, but there’d be a sheet between us, you know?”, he swallows the lump in his throat. “We’d feel each other closer.”

“Okay.”

Felix’s body shifts as he changes his position. He’s on top of you now, body hovering over yours, but you’re not pressed together. You wonder if he’s feeling cold, shirtless, while you get to be covered by the bedsheet. But Felix’s not feeling cold at all. In fact, he feels like he could pass out from a heatstroke right now, in the middle of the night, while it’s freezing cold outside.

From underneath the sheet, you take off your bra, then slide your underwear down your thighs until they stay hooked on one of your ankle. Felix doesn’t get to see tour naked figure, covered by the thin, dark layer, but his cock has never been harder nonetheless. He captures your lips in a kiss as he positions his body between your spread thighs, then his hand reaches the waistband of his boxers, and he finally pulls them down his legs.

He was right - you do feel closer to him. So close, it almost feels as if the thin layer of the bedsheet isn’t there. Almost. Intertwining your fingers with his, he starts to move, grinding his hips against yours, allowing you to feel every movement of his hard cock against your pussy. You’re so aroused you’re sure you’re leaking onto the sheets, but you can’t bring yourself to care right now. Not with the way he’s thrusting his hips, pressing the sheets against your clit, the friction causing you to let out a louder moan.

“Do you - like it?”, he tries to hold back a moan by biting his lip.

You nod, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. The bedsheet shifts a little, allowing Felix to catch a glimpse of your naked boob, nipple hard, and he licks his lip just thinking about how bad he wants to capture it between his lips and suck on it. The thought is enough to make him snap his hips faster, the tip of his cock right above your clit.

“Oh, my God- right there.”, you whimper, and your nails find their place on Felix’s bare shoulders as he repeats the movement.

“Here?”, he grunts, hitting the same spot. Usually, he has no trouble in finding the clit, but right now it’s a little bit harder, considering he can’t see you.

You nod frantically, throwing your head back on the pillow. “Yes, there. Please.”

Your exposed neck and collarbone are too tempting, and Felix latches his mouth on your skin as he keeps moving his hips against you, moaning to the feeling of your wetness soaking the sheet - he can feel how wet you are against his cock.

“I- I’ll probably won’t last much longer.”, he warns you, gripping your waist with one of his hands as his thrusts become more desperate.

“It’s okay- ‘m close.”, you pant.

He widens his eyes. “You are?”, he sounds surprised - he is, but your words only encourage him to keep going.

“I am.”, you tug at his hair, feeling the familiar warm feeling in your lower belly. “So close, please don’t stop.”

Felix finds out tonight that his new favorite sound is the little whimper you make as you come. Because of him. For him. Pulling him closer, breathing heavily against his mouth as your lips are pressed together, nails digging in his skin. And suddenly, he’s on the verge of his orgasm too, and instantly pulls away from your body, knowing that if he cums on the bedsheets he’ll surely stain them - he learned it the hard way. So he lies on his back, next to you, and jerks himself off, somehow not embarrassed that you literally saw him naked - you’re still looking at him, eyes set on his crotch, admiring the way his hands moves fast around his length. He cums with a hoarse grunt, cum landing on his abdomen with five, long spurts and he finally slows down his movements as he comes off of his high, panting heavily as he catches his breath.

After a couple of seconds, he realizes that he’s literally laying beside you, completely naked, with cum all over his body, and he grows embarrassed, cheeks flushing red. “Could you… pass me a tissue or something - anything?”, he wishes the ground would swallow him whole, but he relaxes instantly when he sees you smiling at him. He has no reason to feel embarrassed, you’re his best friend after all.

You peck his lips. “Sure.” You slip on your hoodie and slide your panties up again, before reaching for your backpack, where you keep your tissues and wet wipes.

He cleans himself up and then puts his clothes back on, and then you slip under the covers together. He pulls you in for a tight hug, resting his chin on your head, and you hide your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. The whole tent is filled with the smell of sex, of both of your releases, and it somehow makes you smile, knowing it’s all real - you didn’t imagine anything, everything’s real. You have feelings for your best friend and he reciprocates them.

You fall asleep like that - legs entangled, Felix’s arms enveloping you in a hug and you with your hands on his back, occasionally slipping them under his hoodie to feel the warmth of his skin.

⛺︎

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bamdelune · 6 months

Text

tears of the condemned .𖥔 ݁ ˖ neuvillette x reader

summary ➜ The Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale rarely ever made errors in its judgement, suitable persecution befalling those on the other side of the law. The Iudex of Fontaine was well-aware and familiar with that fact but the Oratrice's final verdict cause his judgement to go sideways, because it involved you.

warnings/tags/notes ➜ the summary is a warning in itself, angst [i never payed much attention to neuvillette but seeing a few fics about him got me to write this heheuehe + info and events might be canon-divergent because i haven't unlocked fontaine yet but hey, i tried my best 🤓☝️]

Neuvillette truly did not understand why so many people sought out Fontanian hearings, as if watching the accused and the persecution go back and forth was an amusing routine incorporated in their daily lives. To the citizens, it seemed like hearings were an elaborate play that they could watch for entertainment instead of a catalyst to serve righteousness. The Chief Justice certainly did not have a taste for it, especially when the audience was filled with hushed chatter about the case today: your case; surprise, you do not play the part of the persecution but you are the accused.

Murder, both you and Neuvillette found it impossible to believe you could committ such an act but as the Iudex, he must learn not to let this cloud his judgement; Neuvillette must not his doubts pass the verdict instead of rationality.

"The evidence presented by the plaintiff shows us that there is no concrete reason to convict the defendant," His eyes catch your form relax, even by just a bit from his statement. "However, as practice, the final verdict will be determined by the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale." Silence fills the Opera Epiclese as the mechanism moves between the scales.

Neuvillette's skin goes cold when the Oratrice has decided your fate.

Guilty.

Gasps erupt inside the opera and your expression is filled with dumbfoundedness. This was not the first time this happened but he's learned to trust the Oratrice's judgement over his own.

But can he truly put aside his bias if it meant getting you out of this predicament? Can he truly cross the law, the one aspect that founded everything that he has done so far.

Your voice rips out from the silence, riddled with desperation as you plead out to him.

"That's—that's not true at all! Monsieur Neuvillette, there must be some kind of mistake!"

Neuvillette clenches his fists, head straining from the thoughts that ran through his mind. He knew there was a mistake, he knew that the Oratrice can go against his own verdict but he's conflicted. Should he let you off scot-free or send you to the depths of Fortress of Merop—

"The judgement of the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale is the final verdict of the court. We have no choice but to follow through with it. Please take the suspect into custody," his mouth opens before he could even think about anything else. Neuvillette swallows thickly, seeing the defeated look on your face—as if the stale silence of the courthouse gave way to the sounds of your heart shattering into tiny pieces; the heart that he had promised to take care of so sincerely every day and the heart he swore to never toss away.

The Fortress is a place meant for solitude, for the convicted to reflect on their actions but all you could think of was how dark and scary it was in your cell. It was clean for the most part, that you were thankful for but other than that, all sense of time seemed to blur. It was lonely, but being falsely arrested like this by your beloved helped you feel lonelier. You felt empty, almost numb like a hollow glass that threatened to break with a push that was enough to break and Neuvillette crossing your trust like that was the trigger.

Footsteps resound through the corridor outside your place, your head lifts to see him.

"Why are you here?" Neuvillette seems to almost wince at how your voice sounded so... colorless, deprived of the life he's grown to love. You never intended it to come out that way but being in here rarely gave you the privilege of human interactions, "Are you going to set me free, monsieur?"

The Chief Justice opens and closes his mouth, clearly conflicted on what he was going to say next, because what could you say to your (assumingly former) lover whom you just convicted of a murder in front of the public?

"No," he replies, like he's still in court. You dryly chuckle at his response. "Have you come to reprimand me then? That must be it right? The lover of the Iudex of Fontaine, condemned to a life behind bars at the hands of her own beloved, thst must sound terrible to you, yes? Does a number to your honorable image to the people," Your tone gradually turned more bitter at each word knowing the fact that he could've saved you, or at the very least kept you anywhere but here until the evidence and verdict lined up in agreement.

"I care less about my own image, mon chéri—"

Another gasp of a laugh falls from your lips, "Don't. Don't you dare call me that if you will spit such lies in the same breath."

"Would you rather me threaten the sanctity of my title as Iudex?" Neuvillete responds right after, his tone stern and almost to a level of a scream. You would've flinched if you weren't so agitated.

"I wish you would," you mutter under your breath. You were so desperate for authentic justice to be served. Knowing the citizens of Fontaine, this incident would leave a stain on your image. No matter where you'll go, you aren't free from the scrutinizing eyes of the people. Your life will never be the same.

Neuvillette scoffs, "Do you hear yourself? Do you know what you are asking of me?" He was angry now. See, when he gets irritated, Neuvillette is never the type to aggressively express such a feeling but rather, he emits a silent aura that just unsettles you to an extent. But you have to stand your ground.

"Such a selfish request for your circumstances."

Now it's your turn to huff an exhale, hurt gnawing at your chest at every word he spoke.

"Selfish? I'm selfish for asking for justice for a horrendous act of violence both you and I know I never committed?"

Your voice almost gave out under the weight of the sting of your chest, nearly cracking as you raise your voice at him, "You know the Oratrice can make mistakes, Neuvillette—"

"The Oratrice's judgement is absolute, it does not make errors," the man interjects. A beat of silence stays.

"You never believed my words, even for a moment, didn't you?"

Neuvillette swallows, eyes somehow on your face but never on your eyes. He's hyper-aware of the fact that he's hurt you more than enough times he promised not to, never. He always promised that he wouldn't be the one to shatter your heart into tiny pieces and crush them under the soles of his feet. He was the one that vowed to stay by your side amidst the intimidating whispers that talk, talk, and talk about how you would murder an innocent citizen in cold blood. And now he knew.

He had gone back on his word.

It doesn't take him a reply before you started again. "You lied to me," you muttered.

"You're correct, I never believed you for one second," Neuvillette responds, voice low. His mouth opens before he could even think about it.

No. He always would. Over anyone and anything else.

He cringes slightly at this. The Iudex of Fontaine behind closed doors was a complex man. He is built of layers upon layers of emotional concealing, it was never a good thing for him to blatantly open up to someone—but of course, that changed because of you.

"You're foolish to think you could've slipped past the Oratrice's verdict,"

You didn't. He knew that, you did nothing wrong.

"The time has come for you to pay your dues." Neuvillette fronts.

Let me get you out of here. Neuvillette pleads

You fall silent by the tail of his words, barely getting enough courage to look him in the eye. Too much, it was all too much.

"Just—just leave, I don't want to see you," you mumble, defeated. Your eyes catch the way salty tears softly drip onto your clenched fists, wiping your face with the back of your hand. If you were alone in a lonely cell, so be it.

You hear his footsteps hesitate for a moment before they clack away, getting softer and farther with each step.

Heavy rain littered the streets of Fontaine that day.

Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, wipe the tears from your face. Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don't cry.

#bamdelune #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin #bamdelune's bookstore #genshin impact x reader #neuvillette #neuvillete x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #neuvillette x y/n

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wcbblife · 15 days

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Steps and Swishes

a/n: promise the next part will probably have more of the professional dancing lol

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: none!

***

In moments like these, you can't help but appreciate your body's resilience, its unwavering stamina that carries you through the literal marathon of your day. But as you navigate this relentless sprint, you find yourself hoping there's still some fuel left in your tank when you reach the audition.

Waking up late was never part of the plan, especially not on a day when a crucial audition awaits. "Crap!" you mutter under your breath as you hastily exit your dorm room, clutching a piece of bread in one hand and your phone in the other. Each step is a stride toward salvaging what's left of your punctuality.

For the most part, things seem to be going smoothly as you dash towards the building. Until it’s not.

You wrench open the glass door of the lobby and dash into the elevator, heart pounding with each passing floor. Finally, as the doors slide open, you burst forth into a labyrinth of corridors, your destination painfully close. Or so you think.

Just when you believe the worst is behind you, you turn a corner and collide with an unexpected obstacle: a cascade of blonde hair and scalding coffee.

“Fuck!” The word rips from your lips as you stagger backward, the searing liquid seeping through your clothes. With trembling hands, you peel the wet fabric from your skin, eyes fixed on the ruinous stain spreading across your once pristine white shirt.

“Holy shit,” the figure mumbles, “I didn't mean that at all. Are you ok?”

A hand reaches out hesitantly towards your shirt, then freezes awkwardly in mid-air. It's the final straw.

Your gaze shoots up to meet the woman in front of you, ready to unleash a torrent of curses, but all words die on your tongue as you're confronted with wide, concerned eyes. Eyes that you know all too well, belonging to none other than Paige Bueckers.

Going to the same school as Paige Bueckers had never really stood out to you until today.

"I'm so sorry," Paige says, glancing down at your shirt, her hand still suspended awkwardly between you. Silence hangs heavy in the air. "I… I'll buy you a new one, I swear. Let me make it up to you."

In that moment, you realize that even if she were to buy you ten or twenty shirts, it wouldn't change the fact that you're about to miss your audition if you don't hurry. The inconvenience of the situation dawns on you in full force.

You let out an exasperated sigh, your gaze flicking from your stained shirt to Paige and back again. Then, once more, your eyes travel from her to your shirt. You can't help but notice how effortlessly chic and pristine her shirt appears compared to your own.

“Take off your shirt,” you deadpan without much consideration.

Paige's eyes widen further, resembling a deer caught in headlights. “W-what?” she stammers, inching away slowly.

You, however, couldn't care less if she looked at you as crazy. “You said you wanted to make it up to me?” you ask, raising an eyebrow before gesturing towards the bathroom behind her. “I have an audition in five minutes, and unless I want to blow my shot, I need to look presentable.”

The blonde hesitates, her gaze shifting between your outstretched fingers and the bathroom door. Then, with a slow turn of her head, you can almost hear the gears in her mind grinding to a halt. “And how does me taking off my shirt help you?”

“Just get in there and swap shirts with me,” you grumble, shooting her a soft glare. “It'll be quick. Once I'm done, you can have it back. Deal?” You silently pray she doesn't call the cops given how stupid and crazy you must sound, but the desperation in your eyes seems to sway her as she hesitantly nods.

“Alright, fine.” she sighs, walking towards the bathroom.

***

For the most part, the audition went relatively smoothly. Well, except for the fact that you received a barrage of odd looks for bursting in looking disheveled, with the invasive aroma of coffee clinging to you like a second skin. You could swear they caught whiffs of it every time you executed a dance move. But on the bright side, Paige's shirt did align nicely with the hip-hop theme they wanted, so hooray for small victories, you suppose.

Exiting the room, your shoulders sag immediately. Scanning the area for a familiar blonde, you finally spot Paige and make your way over, tapping her shoulder gently.

Startled, she quickly turns off her phone, giving you her full attention. “How'd it go?”

You shrug, not feeling up to sugarcoating it. “It was alright, I guess.”

Paige's expression deflates. “Gosh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to mess up your audition.”

“Nah, don't worry about it,” you try to brush it off, though your voice betrays a hint of frustration. “If I hadn't been such a klutz and actually woke up on time, I wouldn't have been in such a rush, and none of this would've happened.”

A brief silence lingers between you two before Paige breaks it. “Hey, let's make a deal,” she proposes, suddenly piquing your interest. “You can hang onto the shirt for now. I'll take this one,” she taps the stained area with her palm, “wash it, and give it back to you later.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Really? I'm totally fine with changing again. Why would you even let me take your shirt home—”

“Just…” she interrupts, sounding almost exasperated, “It's just a way for you to trust that I won't flake out and keep your shirt or something,” she mumbles, scratching the back of her neck nervously. “If you have my shirt, the only way I could get it back is by washing yours and swapping. I know it sounds silly.”

You chuckle. “Maybe just a little.”

Paige smiles, briefly averting her gaze before meeting your eyes again. “Just… let me clean it. I already feel bad enough.”

With a resigned sigh, you give in to her plea. “Fine, give me your number.”

Paige retrieves her phone with surprising speed, a wide grin spreading across her face. She clears her throat, opening her phone and displaying the number pad. “Are you usually around campus? You look like a student.”

After entering your number, you call yourself and retrieve your own phone as it starts to ring. “Yeah… I'm just looking for a part-time gig for now. Nothing too demanding.”

The blonde's interest is piqued. “So, what was the audition for?”

“Just some dancing,” you murmur, half-expecting her to burst into laughter like some others might. But instead, her reaction is one of genuine shock.

“That's awesome! KK would love you,” Paige jokes, and you audibly release a deep breath, grateful that there's no mockery in sight.

“I'm… flattered. Though I'm afraid she might work me to the bone with TikTok dances.”

Paige erupts into laughter, bending over in amusement before regaining her composure. “She might, but she means no harm, I promise,” she says, her expression turning more earnest. “You might have to swing by and show us some moves.”

“Hmm, I might just have to do that,” you reply with a smile.

Paige rubs her hands together awkwardly. “Well, I'll let you go. I don't want to hold you back any longer. I'll definitely text you.”

You nod, “I'll look forward to a white shirt”

She smiles before excusing herself. As you go about your way, you can't help but glance back, only to find the blonde has beaten you to it, snapping her eyes away from you in an instant.

***

The next morning breezes by in a blur. You manage your early classes and decide to take the afternoon off, indulging in a leisurely lounge session that rivals the pace of a sloth. Despite knowing you should probably get moving, the mere thought of tackling errands or practicing feels like an insurmountable task.

You flop onto your back on the carpeted floor, idly gazing at the ceiling until the tranquil silence is abruptly shattered by the muffled buzzing of your phone. With a lazy stretch, you reach for your phone, glancing at the notification.

One text message.

Sitting up, you unlock your phone.

‘Hey! It's Paige. You know, the girl who spilled coffee on you? Yeah, you probably remember that. Anyway… I cleaned your shirt, and I promise it's good as new. Do you want me to swing by your place or are you cool with coming over here?’

Your fingers move instinctively, typing a response before you even fully process it. After all, if THE Paige Bueckers was extending an invitation to her place, who were you to refuse?

‘I don't mind coming over there.’

Three bubbles appear in the corner of the screen.

‘Great! My room is 12C. Just drop by whenever you want.’

‘Alright, I'll be over in a few minutes.’

‘Perfect, I'll be waiting for you.’

You toss your phone aside, feeling an unexpected surge of energy coursing through you. Where it comes from, you're not entirely sure, but you're certainly not going to question it. Not when it propels you onto your feet in a heartbeat.

Without pausing to overthink, you head for a quick shower, ensuring you look somewhat presentable before getting dressed. There's a pitifully evident spring in your step as you make your way to her room, clutching her freshly washed shirt against your body.

However, all semblance of confidence evaporates upon coming face to face with the blue door, 12C stamped at the top. One. Two. Three seconds pass, and you find yourself rooted in place, your arm trembling slightly before dropping back down.

“Shit…” you mutter, suddenly feeling more self-conscious. But you gather your resolve and decide to just go for it.

Almost instantly, you hear shuffling from behind the door, accompanied by distant thuds before it creaks open. Two brown eyes peer out, catching you off guard. You barely have time to process before she gasps, almost comically.

“Oh my god, you're the coffee girl, aren't you?” The girl, whom you now recognize as KK, swings the door open wider, smiling like a child.

“Um… yeah, that's me,” you reply, scratching the back of your neck and holding up Paige's shirt. “I'm just here for a simple exchange.”

“Girl, come on in,” KK drawls, gesturing for you to enter. “She's down the hall to the left.”

“Thanks,” you chuckle.

It's pretty wild how much they're trusting you, but at this point, does it even matter?

You make your way down to what you presume is Paige’s room, rapping lightly on the door.

Paige answers swiftly, her attention seemingly elsewhere. “Kk, I swear to go—” Her gaze lands on you, and her eyes widen abruptly, words faltering. “Oh, my bad. Thought you were that airhead.”

“Hey!” Kk's voice rings out from the other side of the dorm, prompting a giggle from you.

“Come in, come in. I didn’t realize you were here already,” Paige says, opening her door fully. She strides over to her bed, where a neatly folded white shirt rests on top.

“I like your cologne,” you blurt out before even thinking, immediately regretting your lack of filter. You scramble for an excuse as Paige turns to you, her expression unreadable. “I-I mean, your shirt… I'm assuming it was your cologne. It smelled nice.”

She smiles. “Really? I’m trying something new. Must've smelled better than the coffee, huh?”

You step closer to her, the distance between you diminishing. “Anything would be better than that, to be honest. Imagine dancing while drenched in coffee.”

Paige winces, stepping nearer to you. She extends your shirt towards you. “Yeah, sorry about that again. But don't worry, I made sure it was all gone.”

Taking a moment to really take her in, you absorb every detail you may have missed in your earlier rushed encounter. The way her eyes sparkle, the curve of her smile, the subtle flex of her arms. It's almost overwhelming for your heart to handle.

“Here. I washed yours too.”

“Aww, you didn't have to,” she reply with a cheeky grin. “Now I owe you again.”

“I'm always up for some food,” you shrug, though you don't really mean it. “A broke college student will take what they can get.”

“Deal,” Paige says, her tone shifting slightly more serious. “We could even go now if you want.”

“Wow, didn't expect you to actually say yes. I mean, aren't you like… a celebrity or something around here?” you comment, feeling a mix of surprise and flattery.

Paige shrugs, a smirk playing on her lips. “What, are you worried they'll mistake us for a couple or something?”

“W-what? No…” you stutter, feeling your cheeks flush at the mere suggestion.

“I'm just messing,” she says, turning her head expectantly, her gaze soft yet playful.

It seems to effortlessly dismantle whatever defenses you had put up. “Fine,” you relent, smiling as Paige's face instantly lights up.

“Sweet. Hold on, let me grab my stuff,” she says, brushing past you, leaving you standing awkwardly in the middle of her room. You shift on the balls of your feet until…

“Psst!” Your head snaps towards the doorway as KK looks positively gleeful, biting her finger to stifle a laugh. “You're still gonna dance with me, right? Don't go flaking out.”

“Of course I am. And I’m going to beat you with all those TikTok dances,” you retort, a playful spark between the two of you.

KK gasps dramatically, clutching her shirt. “As if!”

“Alright, KK,” Paige interjects, returning from wherever she went, patting KK on the shoulder with a tad too much strength, causing the smaller guard to wince. “That’s enough.”

You catch the shift in Paige's tone, and she shrugs softly once she notices your gaze on her. “Let’s go?”

You nod and follow closely behind, but not before whispering a quick, “It's still on,” to KK, chuckling as her mouth hangs open in silent protest.

#wcbb #women's basketball #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #kk arnold

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taintandviolent · 1 year

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Ouija Board (Tate Langdon x Reader)

Summary: You have a sleepover at your new house, and your friend decides to bring out your Ouija board. But, you’re all teenage girls, so the questions are completely unhinged and un-serious. But, the ghost you’re talking to takes full advantage of the situation. It’s a perfect opportunity, he’s been watching for you weeks. You’re living in his room, afterall.

warnings: 2.9k words -- self insert! female receiving. shameless smut. post-death Tate, ghost sex, cunnilingus, handjob, rough sex, unprotected sex, mention of ghosts/death.

Ao3 link here! Full fic below the cut! 18+.

tagged: @zabelcolin @kaismanwich @elsamars @thewolveswithin @marylovesevanpeters @80strashbag @r-3tro @twinkiemaximoff @milkovich-misfit {dm/ask to be added!}

It was the third week in the new house.

It was the first time that you actually felt at home. Somehow, you’d managed to make two friends from school, which was equally as shocking to you as it was to your parents. In previous schools, you’d always been on the outskirts, bored stiff at the idea of socialising. When you’d announced to your dad at dinner that you’d actually braved the choppy shores of friendship, he’d nearly choked on his coffee.

“That’s wonderful! Why don’t you invite them over for dinner tonight?” Your mom asked, setting her mug down on the table. You rocked your foot back and forth, mulling over the idea. Previously, your days off from school had been spent unpacking and checking around corners, listening to the creaking and whining of an old house.

Your mother was delighted with its age, commenting on the Tiffany glass and wood — but you felt things that had rotted underneath the wood. Things that whispered when your back was turned, or lingered in the kitchen when you went for a glass of water in the middle of the night.

“Okay, sure.”

So that night, instead of flicking the light switch off in your bathroom and making a beeline for your bedroom, you sat on the floor with Jessica, Angie, a dish of pizza rolls and three glasses of grape soda.

You swallowed the mouthful, and nodded. “No, I’m serious. This house is weird. The first week I was here, in the kitchen… I saw a blonde lady with a hole in the back of her head.”

Jessica snapped the book she was leafing through, and turned. “I bet she was murdered. Don’t you have an Ouija board?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, pointing towards the bookcase. “Never used it, though.”

“You’re going to. This is much more fun than going to Town Hall and asking for records on previous owners. Sometimes, they don’t include death certificates — which is obviously what everyone is interested in. That’s the good stuff.” It took all of three minutes for Jessica to set it up. In unison, the three of you delicately placed two fingers on the planchette.

“Okay… so, what do we ask?”

You chewed on the inside of your lip, thinking.

“Is there anyone here with us?” You blurted out.

The planchette skidded to life, circling in the middle of the board. You’d seen it happen in movies, but the actual sensation was an unsettling one. YES. You all exchanged looks, searching for any guilty expressions — but it seemed that none of you had opted to play any tricks. The planchette had moved by itself.

“Did you die here?” Angie asked.

YES.

Jessica gasped. “Ooooh, what if it’s a cute ghost boy like in Casper? Can I keep you?”

Completely enrapt with the idea, she turned her attention to the board, and asked, “Is the spirit in this room male?”

YES.

“Well, that rules out Miss Hole in her Head.” You cleared your throat, focusing on the printed letters. “Have you been the one in my room every night?”

“The one in your room every night?!” Jessica hissed, shooting a pointed look at you. You shrugged apologetically. Angie, who was visibly uneasy with the entire idea, almost fell backwards when the spirit answered.

YES.

“Oh my god!?” Jessica hung her head between her arms, laughing. “It’s probably some old grandpa with a shrimp dick, let’s be real here.”

“Bet. I’ll find out. Do you have a big dick, Mr. Ghost?” You asked.

Again, the planchette zipped to YES. Whoever he was, he didn’t hesitate. Cute. The three of you howled, laughing at the ridiculousness of the question. Angie desperately tried to redirect the conversation by asking the ghost what it wanted. The planchette spelled out HER.

Jessica lifted her fingers, and Angie screeched at her to return them. “If you don’t say goodbye, the spirit will have an open invitation to come into you!”

“To come!?” Jessica mocked. “To come into me?! Oh, the horror — don’t come into me! Pull out first, Ghost.”

Angie scowled. “You’re so gross.”

As they bickered, you stared at the planchette. It was still active, despite Angie and Jessica’s attention being pulled away. It quivered back and forth, as though it was shaking nervously.

Once Jessica’s wandering mind had been reigned back in, the three of you managed a few more more questions; some about murder, some about occult, and some about other ghosts in the house. Eventually, the sun disappeared from your window, plunging your room into darkness, and your mother called the three of you down to eat. Your friends stayed for about an hour after dinner, and they’d seemingly forgotten about the Ouija board. You hadn’t, though. You leaned your back against the door, the coldness of the glass piercing through your cotton shirt. Your eyes trailed up the staircase, following the bend of the bannister as it curved to the left. Before you made your way upstairs to ready yourself for bed, you craned your neck down the hall, trying to listen for the whispers.

You sat upright in your bed, gasping for air. The book clutched in your hand fell to the floor with a thud. You hadn’t even really remembered falling asleep, but the creak of your floorboards had woken you up. You were met with nothing but the silence and glittering darkness of the room while your eyes adjusted. Eventually, the speckles turned into furniture pieces; your dresser, your mirror, your bookcase… everything seemed in order. The clock on your bedside table incessantly blinked 2:34 AM.

Something skidded across the floor, a spinning blur of tan and black. You yelped, throwing yourself up against your headboard. Your room was silent save for that sound of something hard scooting against a flat surface. You took a deep breath, and crept forward gingerly, wincing each time your mattress creaked.

You gripped the edge of your bed frame tightly, knuckles paling. You peered over. In the middle of the floor where you’d been sitting earlier, the Ouija board was laid out. The planchette swept across the board as it had earlier, but this time with no hands to guide it. It zipped across the board aggressively, as though it was trying to get your attention.

“Hello?”

The triangle paused, then slowly drifted to hello.

Dumbfounded, your mouth opened and closed. You were at a loss — because no horror movie had ever given you any idea how to politely hold a conversation with a spirit outside of the traditional setting.

“Um…. can I… help you? Are you here to possess me?”

Stupid. That was stupid.

Watching as the planchette swept across the board, you read the letters allowed.

“L…A…Y…. Lay? Lay. Okay. B…A…C…K? Lay back?” You waited for further confirmation, but the planchette stayed still for a moment.

It started spinning again, quickly spelling out a final instruction. “Close my eyes. Lay back and close my…. eyes.”

You heaved a sigh, and against your better judgement, you did. You shimmied back underneath the covers, pulling them up to your chest, and waited. The seconds were excruciating, and you were sure some horror movie had to have started like this.

The duvet rustled at the bottom of the bed, and all at once, a gust of cold air hit your feet. The mattress gave to the weight of someone, and you yelped at the feeling of clothed shoulders nestling in between your thighs.

A broad hand ghosted across your stomach, fiddling the scalloped edge of your pyjama shorts. It swooped into your inner thigh, then circled down along your knee. Though the actions were soft, you couldn’t help but feel the knot forming in your stomach. Letting out a soft whimper, you bit your lip, clamping down hard. One hand slid up, caressing the curve of your ribs. You writhed. “You’re driving me insane…” you whispered harshly. Had you really been that touch starved?

Lips hovered over your inner thigh, the hot breath washing over the warm skin. A single finger ran along the inside, trailing further and further up. He slowed as he neared you, wordlessly asking for permission.

“Please,” you begged, doing everything you could not to scoot your hips down into him and embarrass yourself any further. “Please…”

He continued. The pad of his finger floated over you, stroking, teasing until the wetness soaked through the threads. The hands disappeared, but only to return to the sides, where they gripped the waistband, tugging them softly off your hips.

You took a deep breath and immediately clamped your hand over your mouth, muffling the shrill whine that tried to escape. Whoever he was, lapped at your cunt like it was a melting ice cream cone, and it didn’t take long for it to start weeping, soaking the green sheets beneath you.

Your chest rose and fell quickly, and your eyelids fluttered, overwhelmed with the sensation. Everything was white and on fire. Your thighs trembled deep within the muscle with every flick of his tongue. Were you really getting eaten out by a ghost? Was that actually happening? You felt silly acknowledging that. His tongue flattened out against your clit and you let out a whine, erasing every other thought. He pressed his face deeper into your wet folds, tongue flicking at the underside of your clit.

“Fffffuck, oh my god.”

You had to know. You swallowed, and tightened your lips into a thin line. You were ready for whatever horrifying visual would meet you. With one final surge of courage, you flipped the covers up, opened your eyes and gazed into the tented darkness. A head of soft, blonde curls bobbed softly between your legs.

“HELLO?!” It wasn’t a greeting, but the boy lifted his head from your cunt. Two dark eyes glimmered at you from beneath the duvet.

“Hey,” he said, chin glistening. “I’m Tate. I used to live here.”

“You’re so…. cute?”

He smiled crookedly, the dimples in his cheek deepening. “Were you expecting Freddy Krueger or something?”

Your head fell back on the pillow like an anvil and a breathy laugh broke your pants. “Yeah, maybe. Jesus Christ…. I don’t know. I’ve never had a ghost between my legs.”

“You liked it. You’re so wet.” He was pleased with himself, you could tell. Reaching one finger up to stroke your opening, he angled his head to watch the way you clenched and squirmed at his touch.

“Was I… were you the one I was talking to with my friends?” He nodded. He shifted his weight, manoeuvring himself up until he was above you, supporting himself with hands on either side of your neck.

“I’ve been watching you since you moved in, Y/N… I didn’t want to scare you away.” He confessed, searching your face. “I’ve wanted you for weeks.”

You were scrambling to keep your thoughts in one manageable bundle. On one hand, this scenario was insane and you were sick to be enjoying it. On the other… sure, he was dead, but he was easily one of the cutest boys you’d ever seen and the way he wanted you was intoxicating. His dark eyes darted from your lips to your eyes, wordlessly asking for permission. You craned your neck up to meet him, pressing into his plush, pink lips.

You’d never been one of those boy crazy teenagers, but you understood the cathartic release that sex brought. It was carnal and natural. You’d only ever slept with one other person, so the hunger was never sated, and you were left quietly fingering yourself after your parents fell asleep. Every time you’d had the chance to have made out with someone though, you tasted them. Deeply. Kissing someone released their scent, the one that only intimate partners got. And none of them had ever been as heady and addictive as Tate was. You tilted your head to get further into his waiting mouth, swirling your tongue with his. You whimpered, sending a moan down his throat.

You reached under, sliding your hands down his stomach. The tiniest trail of hair guided you to the waistband of his jeans, where you made quick work of the buttons. Breaking the kiss only to help with scooting his jeans over the curve of his ass, Tate quickly returned his lips against yours, his tongue moving past your lips eagerly.

Although you were going in blind, it wasn’t difficult to find his cock. Not only did it take up most of the space between you two, but it was hot to the touch, the heat radiating from beneath the thin fabric of his boxers. You pressed your hand against him, getting an idea for the length.

“Huh. So, you weren’t lying about that.” Tate’s hips ground against your palm in response. You reached up, flipping the elastic down so you could slip your hand in, dragging your fingers along the soft tip. Your palm was immediately slick with his precum; the thick fluid coated the soft skin. You used your thumb to smear some of it to the underside of the head, teasing at the ridges. He groaned, burying his face into your neck.

“I didn’t lie about anything you asked me.”

You began stroking him underneath the sheets in slow, full movements and Tate’s breathing hitched, hips bucking forward involuntarily. You sped up, feeling warm droplets dribble onto your exposed tummy. Your thumb pressed into the squishy flesh of his head, not expecting the reaction that followed.

“Mm-uh—please. Please, I want you. Please.” He was begging, whining, and his big brown eyes were filled with a pathetic yearning that made your walls soak even further.

“So do it.”

He wasted no time in completing your demand. He sat up, the covers falling off his back.Tate gripped himself, giving his cock a few pumps before he lined himself up, pressing his hot, leaking tip into your entrance. Snatching the opportunity from him, you bucked your hips up to his, forcing his cock inside. You clenched around him hungrily and Tate let out a throaty whine as he pushed the remaining length into you.

He started out slow, taking his time as he slid in and out of you, but the slick pull of your walls each time he slid out unravelled his concentration. Each thrust seemed a little more desperate than the last, his balls slapping against you, splashing the mixture of his spit and your cum against your inner thighs. Bottoming out inside of you, he arched his neck backwards, letting it hang heavy. “Are you a virgin?”

“Wha — no.” You breathed, adjusting your head on the pillow to look at him. Odd question to ask in the middle of the deed. “Why?”

Tate swallowed, and between pants, said, “Because…. you’re so wet.” He dropped forward, pressing his forehead against yours. His cock was still inside, the girth hitting you at a new angle, and the fullness made your stomach clench.

“I’m going to fuck you hard, okay? Tell me if I’m hurting you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You nodded fervidly, and slithered your hands underneath his sweat-soaked shirt until it gathered. Tate lifted his arms, and allowed you to slip the shirt over them. You tossed it towards the edge of the bed, and raked your nails along his naked chest.

“Please.” It was your turn to beg. Tate backed his hips out, pulling himself from your warmth. “I want it.”

He dropped back down to his hands, getting a tight grip on the mattress behind you. His lips met yours again, hungrily. It provided only a momentary distraction, because the second that Tate started pounding into you, you could focus on nothing else — except suppressing your aroused screams. He scooted closer to you on the bed, angling himself to get deeper.

He was hitting every spot he could, and your breaths quickened as he fucked you closer to the edge. You bit down on your lip, squeezing your eyes shut. He had just started, and you were already about to lose it.

“Are you gonna’ cum? Huh?” Tate asked, now struggling to keep his rhythm. If you were close, he seemed to be closer — and you didn’t feel so bad. Tate reached down, pulling himself out to slide the tip of his cock over your clit a few times before stuffing it back in. Your lips parted in a soundless scream as you felt the unmistakable warmth filling you, the quivering in your legs, and the desperate, spasming arch of your back.

“Fuck, fuck,” Tate chanted, feeling your orgasm as it gripped him in a wet, pulsing chokehold. “Fuck!”

As he spilled into you, Tate fell atop of your body, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours. His hips were on autopilot, erratically bucking with each gush. You winced, on the verge of overstimulation. Gradually, his thrusts slowed.

He flopped over on the side of you, one hand stroking the outside of your thigh delicately. He was gazing at you dreamily when you turned to face him.

“So, do I have to bring out the Ouija board each time I want to see you?”

Tate propped his head up on his hand. “You want to see me again?”

You rolled your eyes to the ceiling, a taunting smile curling around your swollen lips. “Uhhh… yeah.”

“I can be here every night if you want.” He purred.

“Haven’t you been anyway? Or did you lie about that?”

Tate’s brows pulled upwards, looking hurt. “I told you — I didn’t lie about anything! I’d never lie to you!”

“Okay, shh —“ You silenced him with your lips. “I’ll be right back. I have to pee.”

For the first time since you’d moved in, you weren’t afraid of ghosts as you walked to the bathroom. You were just afraid that the one in your bedroom would be gone when you got back.

He wasn’t, though.

#Tate Langdon #American Horror Story #ahs murder house #tate langdon smut #ahs smut #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon x yn #myfics #fanfiction #ahs fanfiction

3K notes · View notes

beenbaanbuun · 29 days

Text

worship w/ mingi

words - …

genre - smut

warnings - body worship (m! receiving), mingi’s tummy, alcohol (no one is drunk), mingi’s thighs, foot job (f! receiving), marking, biting, hair pulling, praise, pet names

NOT PROOF READ!!! i forgot to tag this so i woke up and was upset people were ignoring it then i realised it’s bc i’m just a little bit dumb :D

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sitting between mingi’s thighs with your hands massaging the thick muscles, your lips pressed just under his naval as you worship his tummy. he’s petting your hair with one of his big hands, a tumbler glass of whisky in the other. every so often he takes a sip, smacking his lips as the warm liquid flows down his neck, pooling in his stomach, just beneath where you’re lazily running your lips back and forth.

he’s not too sure what brought this on, and he’s not sure where it’ll go. what he does know, however is that he likes it. he likes having you between his legs worshipping the parts of his body that he himself doesn’t love. he likes hearing your little whimpers, feeling your warm lips against his bare skin. the bite of your fingers digging into his thighs and the softness of your hair beneath his palm. it’s intoxicating, the feeling of that alone doing more to addle his mind than the alcohol. you’re intoxicating…

“you’re so hot,” you whine as you lightly rub your nose against the smooth flesh. you love the way his skin smells, like honey and milk, soft and soothing and warm. it’s everything that he is as a person. you plant another kiss along the waistband of his pants. “love your body, mingi… so soft and pretty…”

he gives you a questioning hum, to which you respond by licking a fat stripe up to his naval. his skin is salty with residual sweat from the day, but you don’t care. in fact, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t rather enjoy it. having the taste of him on your tongue sends your brain spinning. you want more of it because it’s mingi.

your mingi.

teeth scrape against the soft skin of his tummy and you can’t help but bite down. there’s a deep grunt from somewhere above you, fingers lacing into your hair to give it a sharp tug. it’s hard, but not enough so to hurt. really, it’s just a little warning for you to behave, as if mingi is expecting you to get carried away with yourself. so even though you hardly want to, you let go with your teeth, instead soothing the little indents with your tongue. fuck he tastes so good, you think to yourself. a guttural moan slips out of your throat as you languidly mouth at his stomach.

“fucking hell, princess,” he slurs as he watches you closely. with your eyes clamped shut and your lips moving so desperately, it’s not hard for him to see just how much pleasure you’re getting from this. he wouldn’t be surprised if you’re already dripping down there, panties sticking to your slick folds as your cunt goes ignored. you don’t seem bothered if that is the case, too desperate to worship mingi to even think about yourself. god, you’re adorable. “you treat me so well, don’t you? my pretty one making me feel so loved… do you like this? making your baby boy feel good? fuck, i bet you’re so wet!”

not wanting to pull away just yet, you just nod against him. your nose runs against the sensitive skin, tickling him just a little. he squirms ever so slightly, but your grip on his thighs does a pretty good job of keeping him in place on the couch. it seems you’ve taken a leaf out of his book; he who loves nothing more than to pin you down when he’s eating you out, pleasuring you until you literally can’t take any more. he chuckles at how cute you are, using his own tricks against him.

god, he’s so in love with you.

“you’re so sweet, princess,” he coos as you take his skin between your lips, suckling on it, intent on making your mark on him. he’s fine with that; it makes him happy to know you want to mark him up. to make him yours physically, just as he already is yours mentally. it’s precious; you’re precious. he wants to give you more. “do you want to cum, princess?”

the question is so nonchalant that it almost doesn’t twig in your brain. he says it as casually as he would if asking you anything else. do you want a glass of water? do you want to eat dinner? do you want to cum? it almost slips in one ear and straight out the other… almost.

but the ache between your thighs is only growing, and your hands are too busy to deal with it yourself. you find yourself nodding again, humming gently against his skin. he smiles again, the overwhelming love he feels for you expressing itself in a face-splitting, cheek-aching grin. “you want to ride my foot?” you give him another nod.

he wastes no time in moving the appendage, lacking any sort of grace as he stuffs it between your thighs and presses it tightly against your clit. you keen against his stomach and it’s music to his ears. the amount of pride he feels when pleasing you is incomparable to anything else. he can play you like a guitar, knowing exactly where to touch to pull all those cute little sounds from you. the way you whimper as he begins to rub it back and forth against you only goes to prove his point.

“good girl,” he hums before tipping the last of the whisky down his throat. it burns, but he can’t focus on that when you’re being so good for him. his perfect little princess.

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez headcanons #mingi x reader #mingi fluff #mingi smut #mingi scenarios

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of-many-fandomss · 1 year

Note

Hi i was just wondering if i could request something with James Potter being protective.

like maybe reader is a bartender and James is her bf and she is just chatting to him and Remus and Sirius when a guy comes over and is creepy towards her and it’s just James become protective.

Happy new year by the way!!!

James Potter my beloved 🫶

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“And what can I get you, handsome?” You asked with a smirk, glancing up to make eye contact with the beautiful hazel orbs that you had gotten the pleasure of growing accustomed to.

“That’s depends, what do you recommend?” He asked back, leaning his forearms against the bar and smirking at you.

“Gag!” Sirius called jokingly, coming up and clapping James on the shoulder, “That is not the kind of stuff I want to hear or see on my night off!”

Remus laughed, coming up beside the pair and offering you a friendly smile in greeting.

You shook your head at the trios antics and immediately went to work getting your longtime boyfriend and his your best friends their usual drinks.

Sirius often joked that the only reason he approved of you dating his best friend in the first place was because you worked as a bartender and therefore gave him an excuse to go out of drinks whenever.

As he and Remus turned and began chatting amongst themselves, your boyfriend turned his attention back to you, running a hand through his hair as his eyes raked up and down your body, “Can I just say that you look bloody gorgeous tonight, darling.”

Your eyebrows raised slightly as you looked down at your plain, all black work attire before chuckling slightly, “Such a flirt,”

He hummed in agreement, not taking his eyes off you as he took a sip of his drink, “But your flirt.”

“Yes, my flirt,” You laughed again, going back to your previous activity before they had arrived of wiping down glasses.

The bar was relatively empty tonight, with only a couple of groups standing around tables and a few friends playing some rounds of pool.

You happily went back and forth with James as you talked about your days in between getting orders for someone here and there.

“Hey there, gorgeous.”

All four of your heads snapped over to the new voice, all conversations ceasing as your gazes narrowed in on a man much older than all of you were standing in front of the bar, holding onto it with one hand while he swayed slightly.

You did your best not to grimace at the name, having grown used to it by now, but your friends and boyfriend didn’t seem as keen as you on ignoring it.

With your attention focused on the man, you missed the way Remus and Sirius exchanged glanced and the way James’s eyebrows furrowed as the grip he had on his glass tightened.

“What can I get for you, sir?” You asked politely, remembering having gotten him and his two friends a few rounds already within the past couple hours.

“Well,” He slurred, “I did come over here to ask you for another round, but I can think of a few things that would be much more interesting to ask you to do for me.” The smirk on his face had the exact opposite effect that James’s smirk had on you, this one made you sick to your stomach.

Your nose crinkled at his suggestive tone and your lips curled in disgust as you took a slight step back despite the fact that you had a whole bar separating the two of you.

“Oi!” James snapped angrily, slamming his glass down so hard that you were surprised it didn’t shatter, “That’s no way to talk to a lady, let alone my lady.” He snarled, hands curling into fists at his side as he took a threatening step towards the man.

If the man had held his hands up in surrender and walked away right then, James would have let him go- granted, he would have been glaring at him dangerously for the duration of his stay- but there would be no need to escalate things. But the man just had to open his mouth again.

The guys eyebrows went up, clearly not having noticed your boyfriend before he had pushed away from the counter and he let out a scoff, rolling his eyes at him, “Mind your business and go find your own slut, this one’s mine.”

Wrong move.

Within a split second, James was on top of him in a state of fury and cursing, sending his fist flying into the man’s nose hard enough to allow a sickening crunch to echo through the bar. But he didn’t stop there. As the man stumbled to the ground, James harshly kicked him back and got on top of him, clocking him in the face over and over again.

People began murmuring and milling around to see what all the commotion was about, and it only took the guys friends a second to realize that he was in trouble, and they quickly sprang forward to help.

Sirius and Remus intercepted them, though, holding them and arms length. When they were met with retaliation, neither one of them hesitated with sending a good right hook to each of the friends faces.

You could do nothing but watch in horror as your boyfriend and best friends fought against these men- mostly winning, but the couple good hits landed on them were enough to churn your stomach more than any disgusting pervs words ever could.

When Remus and Sirius finally realized enough was enough, they left their guys sputtering on the ground and quickly rushed over to pry James- who was still swinging- off of the man, who looked like he was on the verge of unconsciousness.

Blood ran down and coated the strangers faces in red, no doubt hiding some ugly bruises as well. Your boys on the other hand only had a couple shiners and James had a busted lip, with his glasses also slightly cracked.

The crowd that had formed slowly began to fan out and turn back to their normal activities once they realized the show was over, and the three winners of the brawl stood, panting over the losers.

“Take care of your girl,” Remus muttered to James, “We’ll handle this.”

With that, he and Sirius hauled all three men to their feet by their collars and began dragging them out the bar.

James didn’t waste a second with turning around and quickly clambering over the bar until he was stopped right in front of you, who was still frozen in shock.

“Love? Darling?” He asked worriedly, gingerly taking your face between his hands, “Are you alright?”

You finally snapped out of whatever daze you had been in and you put your hands over his and stared at him as if he had gone insane, “Am I alright? Are you alright? You just got into a bloody fight, James.”

“He shouldn’t have said those things to and about you.” He said determinedly, lips curling up into a sneer at the mere thought of it.

You huffed slightly, “I’ve dealt with it before.”

He sighed and leaned forward, closing his eyes as he set a delicate kiss to your forehead, “But you shouldn’t have to,” He whispered when he pulled away slightly.

“It’s apart of life, James.” You looked at him with soft eyes.

His head just shook back and forth stubbornly, “Not while I’m around.”

You smiled slightly, reaching on your tiptoes and placing a soft, lingering kiss on his lips, “Not while you’re around,” You repeated in a whisper before pulling away and taking his hands off your face to examine them, “Now, come on, let’s go in the back and get some ice for the three of you.”

#james potter x reader #james potter blurb #sirius black x reader #sirius black blurb #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin blurb #marauders era blurb

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