#Lemme draw the bastard | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

twola · 1 month

Note

ahehehm.

i get scared when making requests but like .. soft makeup sex w arthur 🧎‍♀️

“i’m sorry baby. i know, i didn’t mean it.” UGHH this man makes me crazy

If there is one talent that Arthur Morgan has - its accuracy. With a gun, a throwing knife, any kind of weapon really.

And his words - He knows what to say to make it hurt, to stab at your chest as if he was physically driving the knife into your heart.

Your eyes cloud over with tears as you quickly turn away from him and walk in the opposite direction, nearly dashing into the woodline away from your shared tent.

Arthur remains where he stood, scowling, fists still clenched. Fine - if that’s the way you’re going to be, go run off for all he cares. He turns on his heel and goes back into the tent, yanking the canvas shut before angrily pulling the hat from his head and throwing it to the ground. He runs his hands through his hair, trying to assuage his aggravation.

Grumbling, he kicks his boots off and throws himself down in the cot, pulling his hat over his head in an exaggerated manner to try and get some rest.

He awakens much later, in the small, quiet hours of the night, and the small space in his cot next to him is still empty. His stomach drops.

Shit, were you still out there? He figured you would have crawled back into bed after calming down. He shoots up, tossing the blanket to the end of the cot and swinging his legs over the side, groping for his boots in the darkness. He shoves them back on before venturing outside, teeth clenching against the cold.

It doesn't take him long to find you, curled up against a tree a little ways away from camp. Your head is in your knees as you wrap your arms around them.

“Sweetheart.”

You raise your gaze upward, and Arthur frowns as he can at least see the glistening of tears in your eyes.

“Why would you say that to me?”

Guilt washes over him like the tide coming in. The heat of the argument earlier has subsided and he drowns in the shame of hurting you.

“Darl-” he sighs, trailing off before stripping his jacket off, stepping closer to you and draping it over your shoulders as you shiver. He stoops down next to you to sit, pressing his side against yours, and after a moment, looping his arm around you to draw you closer.

You shiver in the chill of the night, but after a moment, you lean into him, resting your head against his collarbone.

His hand rubs up and down your back gently, “ ‘m sorry - I didn’t mean it.”

Your hand slowly emerges from under his jacket and spreads out over his chest, above his heart.

“You say things like that and it makes me think you don’t want to be with me anymore.”

“Shit- I ain’t…” Arthur sighs, pulling you even closer against him, “You know I’m just a miserable ol’ bastard. I shoot my mouth off…”

You remain silent, but your fingers tighten at his shirt.

God, he’s such a fool.

“C’mon, let’s get back inside. You’ll catch your death out here.”

You let him lead you back from the woodline toward his tent, his hand tight around your waist the entire time back to his tent strung up against his wagon.

He pulls the canvas of the tent shut tightly against the chill of the night. You stand awkwardly within the confines of his tent, rubbing at your arm as you sniffle. He turns to you, reaching toward you as if he were trying to calm a skittish horse.

“I ain’t- I ain’t good at this.” Arthur whispers, his thumbs gently sweeping the tracks of moisture collecting on your cheeks.

“Me either.” You hiccup, leaning into his touch.

“Suppose that makes us both fools.”

You hum in agreement as you press forward to lean into his embrace fully, your arms moving from his chest around his back as his encircle you as well. You feel him place his chin lightly on the top of your head.

“Lemme show you then.” He rasps, pulling away from you slightly, his hands pressing against your back to pull you up to him into a kiss.

His tongue presses into your mouth as his grip around your waist tightens. You moan softly, and he returns the noise, one hand moving to squeeze your rear.

Laces and buttons are gently undone, cotton rustling as he rids you of your dress. He slowly pulls the straps of your chemise off your shoulders, and the fabric flutters to the ground, pooling at your feet as his fingers trace down the curve of your spine. He reaches the waistband of your bloomers and pushes it down over the swell of your ass, leaving you completely nude in the soft lantern light of the tent.

You reach for the buttons of his union suit and thread them through their eyelets as you feel his eyes upon you. It is not until you have unbuttoned him past his navel that you look up, catching his gaze and holding it as you lift your hands to his shoulders, sliding the cotton down his arms.

That too pools at his feet.

It is only a moment before he pulls you flush to him, his skin touching yours, all of you pressed against all of him. He recaptures your lips as he maneuvers the two of you toward his cot. Far more gently than an outlaw like him should be, he lays you down.

Arthur leans over you, one knee on the edge of the cot, and as you gaze down his body, you see the evidence of his need, his cock hard, jutting forth proudly from his pelvis. Leaking from the tip, swollen and glistening for you.

You can feel the moisture gathering between your legs, he’s yet to trail his hand there, but when he does, he finds you wet and wanting. A low rumble emanates from his chest as he parts your folds with a gentle press of his fingers.

You suck in a breath as he does so, your eyes fluttering shut as he rubs at you. Moving downward, he slides a thick finger into your cunt, and you gasp his name in feverish desire as he climbs atop you, pressing your legs apart with his own, settling his hips closer to yours. When Arthur removes his finger, he brushes the wetness off on his leg before his hand smoothes up your body, searching for yours. When he finds it, he interlaces your fingers as he wraps his other hand around himself as he moves toward you.

The blunt, girthy head of his cock presses through the rim of your cunt and you gasp, a high and flighty noise, as he begins to push himself inside you, sheathing the column of him within your warm channel.

When his pelvis blessedly is flush against yours, he lets out a long, sated breath as you squeeze your eyes shut against the feeling of being parted, getting used to the shape of him within you.

Arthur remains still, his free hand rubbing gently at your hip as he waits for you. When your eyes flutter open, he is peering down at you with adoration in his eye. You squeeze the hand you have interlaced before unwinding your fingers from his.

Words remaining unspoken, you reach up to him to wind your arms around his neck, and he immediately gets down on his elbows, surging forward to lock his lips to yours.

And then he moves. A long, slow, gentle stroke in which his pelvis leaves yours for a moment before returning. You moan as he does it again, and he takes a moment to hear that flighty sound before pressing his lips over yours.

Your fingers card through his shorn hair as he slowly, gently pumps into you. You receive him headily, your core getting wetter by the moment.

The emotion of it all spills over - he seems incapable of words as he gives himself to you. The cot squeaks in the night: the gentle slap of skin on skin, the wet sound of bodies coming together fill the tent.

He reaches between you to rub at that bundle of nerves right above where he stretches you, and you clench your teeth against the pleasure as you come.

He is able to stay inside you for a moment more to enjoy the constriction of your body around his, but not much longer as he quickly extricates himself. He only needs to wrap his hand around his length and pump himself twice before his spend splatters upon your heaving belly.

Arthur pants, giving his cock a final squeeze as it drips more of his release upon you. Within a moment, he reaches down to the pile of clothes at the side of the cot, pulling his bandana from the pile and wiping your skin clean.

Your eyes start to close as you feel him slide into the space next to you on the cot, gathering you against him.

He presses his lips to your forehead as you drift off, but before you do, you hear his whispered voice in the night.

“I love you.”

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption #red dead fanfic #twolafic #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic

334 notes · View notes

anisespice · 11 months

Text

“ hate your boyfriend ” || tokyo rev. pt. 2

one

synopsis: " you can pick me or your little boy. "

pairing: college!toman x gn!reader

warnings: mature language, sexual themes, MDI. toxic!toman, cheater!reader (pumpkin eater!!), enabling behavior, mild violence, vague descriptions of sex (cause i’m lazy), vulgar language, corny marvel joke, dirty-talk, moral compass is a roulette wheel in this one lol and i think that’s it :P

notes: did a little continuation of the first one before doing more characters lol i’m happy you guys liked the concept, lemme know who you’d like to see next :))) i don’t hate this one, but i don’t love it either (except maybe mikey’s) buuuut hope yall enjoy! <333

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @spacegirl05

A week had passed since the whole kick-back fiasco, and MIKEY had gone awol. Aki was over the moon about it, for obvious reasons; as far as he was concerned, he scared him off. Besides, the less you hung around the delinquent, the better for both of you.

“That guy’s just a nuisance, babe. Good riddance.”

Little did he know, this was a regular occurrence. Mikey always did this—Disappeared for days on end, only to pop right back up like he never left. Whether it be due to gang related issues, or because he felt like it, this frustrating habit was one of the reasons you invited him that night, despite knowing he’d pick a fight with Aki. You had missed him…in more ways than one. You knew it was only a matter of time before he came back to you.

And in the wee hours of the night, not far after said boyfriend left your place, you received a lone message from the former blonde himself.

from : bad influence ♡ 11:03pm “ omw. ”

Short, but effective. His timing was impeccable, how he always managed to text the second you were alone was beyond you, but it made your heart race all the same. It was wrong, you knew that, Aki deserved better than someone who snuck around. You didn’t mean for it to get this far, but that was a guilt you’d deal with later. Mikey was your drug of choice, and tonight you craved another fix.

to : bad influence ♡ 11:07pm “ okay. but just for a little while. ”

Even if you tried to play coy, to salvage whatever weak moral you had left, it didn’t matter—The only one you were fooling tonight was Aki.

from : bad influence ♡ 11:08pm “ mhm. sure, angel. ”

It was a wonder how you didn’t draw blood with how harshly you clawed at his shoulders, fighting between wanting him closer or wanting to push him away. Mikey didn’t mind, though. On the contrary, he encouraged you to leave marks. As tempted as he was to leave his own, he figured beating up your insides would suffice.

Knowing you’ll struggle to walk tomorrow was all the reward he needed.

“God—fuuck,” he slurred, after a particularly hard thrust made you arch off the bed, forcing him to sink deeper. He gazed down at you with an all too pleased grin as you begged him for more. How could he deny you when you sounded so desperate? “Taking me so well, angel…always so good f’me…”

“J-Jiro..! Ahplease!” You sobbed, your knees practically knocking upside your temples as he increased momentum. Mikey snickered, angling his hips to continue ramming the spot that made your eyes cross, moans reaching octaves you didn’t even know you could hit.

“Mm, been feening for this dick, huh? Yeah? Maybe we should call up that smug bastard, let ‘em see how such good friends we are, right [______]? Bet he was real proud thinkin’ he got me to fuck off…but we both know who you really belong to. Don’t we?”

He wasn’t sorry. That’s the short end of it.

The moment Takeru decided to act all big and bad, breaking stuff in a place where he paid no bills, it was in DRAKEN’s right to set him straight; mama may not have raised him, but he still ain’t no bitch.

It took some coaxing on your end, but you were able to reel Draken back from turning your boyfriend inside out. But, after he forced him to pick up every broken piece of the lamp, he told Takeru to choose a number between one and ten.

“…Why?” Was his response. Draken raised a brow.

“That’s how many shards I’m gonna shove up your nose.”

“Ken!”

The look on the shorter male’s face was worth it, earning a threatening smirk from the mechanic as he slapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Ahh, y’look like you were about to shit yourself, man! Nah, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

For a moment, there’s relief in your boyfriend’s eyes. It was short-lived, of course. Especially once Draken’s grip tightened around his shoulder. “But I will. Don’t ever let me catch you pop off on [_____] like that again. Would hate for you to have to pick yourself up off the floor next time. You feel me?”

With a gulp, he gave a shaky nod; now he really looked like he shat himself. “Y-Yes…”

“Hah? Yes, what?”

“Y-Yes, Draken, sir?”

He rewarded the poor sucker’s obedience with a couple taps to the cheek just to spite him before sending him on his way. It was met with little protest, Takeru scurrying out of the room with lamp pieces still in his palms, not even sparing you a passing glance.

“Text you later?” You called at his retreating form. When all you got was the sound of your front door slamming shut in response, you swiftly turned on your heel to aim a dejected frown at your other houseguest. Draken sardonically pouted back at you, reaching over to pinch your cheek until you swatted his hand away. “Why’d you do that, you totally freaked him out!”

He wasn’t sorry. Draken shrugged. “Good.”

Merely rolling your eyes, you headed for the small broom and dustpan in your closet to gather what little pieces Takeru left behind–Might as well busy yourself to delay addressing the elephant still in the room. Unfortunately, said elephant wasn’t about to let that happen. Before you could even think of sweeping anything, Draken gently grabbed your elbow, those same eyes that stared death into your boyfriend’s soul now filled with something else as they appraised you, melting through whatever cold exterior you tried to aim at him.

He leaned down closer, sporting a slanted grin that sent signals straight down to your core. Sometimes, you despised how easily he made your insides flutter by just existing.

“How much longer y’gonna entertain that fucking loser, huh? He wouldn’t know the first thing about handling someone like you.”

You hummed, fighting the giddy tremble in your body at the challenging air that surrounded you both. With the inkling of boldness you had, you took the bait. “What, like you would?”

He wasn’t sorry; you’d be though.

The way Draken split you in half would make Lucifer himself bite the pillow. Hovering over his gigantic frame, chest bare with your hands perched on each pec, he manhandled you to take every unforgiving inch of his dick, having you feeling downright discombobulated as your hips struggled to keep momentum.

Forget about seeing stars, at some point, you were certain you saw into the quantum realm; say hi to Ant-Man for me.

“K-Kenny...I can’t...t’s too much!”

He cooed up at you, though there wasn’t an ounce of sympathy in his tone. If anything, Draken enjoyed himself thoroughly, tongue-in-cheek as he watched you fall apart in his lap, just like he knew you would. With the way you tightened up around him like a vice, as if your own body was against the thought of him stopping, the former blonde chuckled breathlessly.

“Use the safe word then, doll.”

You glared down at him, to the best of your ability. With him practically jabbing you in the lung, it was more than difficult to say the rebuttal as smartly as you wanted to. “Y-you think…you’re so-oh! So f-funny…”

He did. Absolutely he did. By making your boyfriend’s name the safe word, nothing would soften his dick quicker. Plus, he knew you didn’t need it; just like you didn’t need Takeru.

“What? It’d be the only way you’d ever scream it anyways.”

“Welcome back.”

You paused mid-step upon entering your apartment, not expecting the ravenette to still be there. With a deep exhale, you paid him no mind as you kicked off your shoes, irritated after a tiresome process of checking your boyfriend into the hospital.

To say BAJI did a number on him would be an understatement…Man’s fucked him up. Sure, maybe Makoto could’ve watched his tone when talking to someone with such a short fuse, but Baji could’ve at least exercised a little restraint.

…Oh, who were you kidding? It’s Baji.

“What, ya not talkin’ to me?” Barely sparing him a glance, you set your bag on the coffee table before heading for the bedroom for a much-needed shower. Baji didn’t take kindly to being ignored. He huffed, standing to meet you halfway as he trailed behind you. Even when you attempted to close the door in his face, he shouldered his way in anyway; it was gonna take more than that to deter him.

“Quit being mad…said I was sorry, damn.”

“No you didn’t,” you replied, incredulously. You really tried it with the silent treatment, but knowing him, it was only a matter of seconds before he'd get you talking again. Taking off the sweats you threw on in haste earlier, you continued. “You said, and I quote, ‘Talk shit, get hit,’ then fell asleep on the couch while I had to haul Makoto to the emergency room!”

Baji shuffled his feet, “…Well, I meant to say it. Jus' forgot.”

You scoffed, walking into your bathroom. "What are you even still doing here? Don't you have someone else's day to shit on?”

“Y’kicking me out now?” He teased, raising a brow. What he didn't expect was for you to start throwing your toiletries at him. Although his reflexes saved him for the most part, Baji still got hit a few times as he attempted to dodge between a shampoo bottle and mouthwash. "Whoa! Hey-!"

“Maybe I should! Do you have any idea how hard it was to get him in and out of my car with all that dead weight, let alone into the building? Not to mention, his emergency contacts were his uppity-ass parents, so after they chewed me out, I had to lie and say he saved me from getting mugged.”

“...They buy it?”

You tilted your head, exasperated. "Wow. And here I thought the next thing out of your mouth would be that apology you 'forgot' to say earlier…[Sigh] Whatever. You just better hope when Makoto wakes up he doesn't remember anything, or else we're both in deep shit."

“Tsk. The fuck’s he gonna do?”

“He could literally sue us.” You deadpanned.

“He’s a pussy, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try me again. And if he gives you any shit for it, you let me know. I’ll take care of it.”

“Oh, you mean like how you did today? Pass.”

He groaned, “I said sorry!”

“No you didn’t! And still haven’t!”

At the moment, it felt like the conversation would just continue in circles. With Baji stubbornly claiming he was in the right, and you combating his warped logic with colorful language and more stuff thrown at him, it's a wonder how things ended up here–With your face pressed against the cold shower wall as he gave you his fucking apology.

Over, and over, and over again.

While one hand wrapped around the column of your throat, fingers shoved knuckle-deep into your mouth to pacify the excessive whines tumbling out, the other made use of gripping the meat of your thigh, giving you no chance of running from the punishing thwap of his hips ramming against your wet ass-cheeks. The water cascading over your bodies had long turned cold as Baji chased after orgasm number five, his muscles ached from the strain, but he'd be damned to stop until he was certain all was forgiven.

Even if it meant missing every single one of Makoto's phone calls.

“God, I am so, so sorry, Takashi. Can’t believe he just…I-I’ve never seen him act like that before. Does it hurt?”

MITSUYA, despite the sting in his split lip, gave you an easy grin. “Nah, y’know I’ve been through worse. Fucker hits like one of my younger sisters.”

You had brought him back to your place to ice the bruise forming on his jaw, still frazzled over what occurred in the last half hour. Back at the restaurant, everything seemed fine when you excused yourself to the bathroom, having a blast knowing that your two favorite people were actually getting along. Unbeknownst to you, there was a storm brewing in Hajime. And the second you were out of sight, he used this opportunity to set a record straight with Mitsuya.

Evidently, he allowed his fists to do the talking.

You groaned, rubbing down your face in distress. “We’ll probably never get to set foot in that restaurant again...’m so embarrassed.”

“Hey,” he softly reprimanded, “Don’t sweat it, t’s not your fault-”

“I’m the one who begged you to let him come with us in the first place. I mean, I know you two butt heads from time to time, but I didn’t think it’d ever turn that serious. Please, Taka, just tell me what happened.”

Mitsuya shook his head, about to lower the ice pack until you shot him a pointed look. With a small exhale through his nose, he kept it on his jaw while he spoke. “I told you, he was probably pissed he couldn’t get a free meal outta me-”

“Don’t bullshit me, Haji wouldn’t explode like that over a fucking chicken sandwich.” You huffed, frustrated at his evasive behavior. He was holding back information on purpose, you were certain. Ever since the fitting, he'd been acting weird all evening. And that fight only solidified your suspicions. “Just tell me what started it!”

"Doesn’t matter."

"Taka-"

"Let it go, [______]." He laid back on your couch and made himself comfortable, even so much as turning on your tv to fill over the dead conversation. Mitsuya trained his eyes on the lit-up screen, still icing his jaw as he subtly avoided eye contact.

You could just scream.

Childishly, you snatched the remote from his hand and switched it back off. The lavender haired threw his head back in defeat, the hand holding the ice pack slowly coming down as Mitsuya eyed you from his peripheral; so stubborn.

“Be honest. It was about me again, wasn’t it?” His silence spoke volumes. “So it was then. Ugh, okay listen, I get that you’re both really protective of me, I do, but that doesn’t excuse-”

“I’m in love with you.”

You choked. Though, only on your words.

With that now hanging up in the air, you gaped like a damn goldfish, the remote slipping out your grasp and clambering to the floor with a clack. Mitsuya exhaled; no turning back now. “You…huh?”

“Yep. Have been for a while, actually.” He placed his arms behind the couch, wry smirk on his face. “Planned to tell you over dinner tonight, but that backfired fast, no thanks to that walking steroid you call a boyfriend.”

“Y-…You’re messing with me. Right?” The designer offered a humorless laugh, gesturing to his split lip and bruised jaw.

“Didn’t get hit for saying what a great pal you were, [______].”

Now it was your turn to be silent. A lump began to form in your throat, overwhelmed with the newfound information, borderline confession.

“So then…what did you say to Haji to make him so angry?”

For a split second, you saw a glint within his pools of amethyst as they slowly rendered to a deep violet. Staring at you from beneath his pretty lashes, Mitsuya resembled that of a starved animal on the verge of cornering its prey, causing a sudden warmth to envelop you as you squirmed under his heady gaze.

Sitting up a little, he merely beckoned you to his empty lap. You blinked widely at him, sputtering as you tried to protest the idea. But, what he said next played into your curiosity.

“C’mere, and I’ll show you.”

You blinked at him, uncertain; he made no move to rush you. If you were against the idea, you were more than welcome to decline and tell him to shove it. However, when you eventually crawled into the awaiting throne, settling all your weight on top of him to the point he couldn’t keep from groaning shamelessly, Mitsuya was fucking elated.

You gripped his shirt at the shoulders, sporting that signature pout you’d do whenever you wanted something from him—The designer was more than ready to give it to you. All you had to do was say so.

“Hajime’s gonna kill you if he finds out, though. Don’t want you getting hurt again because of me…”

Mitsuya chuckled, hands slowly rubbing up your thighs until they settled on your hips. “Don’t worry about it, sweet thing. He may have gotten two hits on me today, but all I need is one tomorrow.”

#🍁wasabi #COME GET YOUR FOOD #tokyorev #tokyo revengers #tokyorev smut #tr smut #tokyorev scenarios #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #mikey #baji #mitsuya #draken

668 notes · View notes

just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 5 days

Note

Congratulations!!

If you feel inspired by this combo and have time, could you write a ficlet using "I", 🍨, 🥰 or 😂, and 🔨?

Thank you!

(Apologies if you already got this ask--my device froze when I sent it the first time, so I don't know if it went through)

Thank you so much! 🥰I still remember your lovely comments on the mer-dude fic, so I hope you enjoy this little bonus! 🦕❤️🧜🏻‍♂️

Of mates and mer-dudes

Words: 996

Rated: T

Tags: summer camp AU; mer!Steve; established relationship; flirting; sexual tension; fade to black

Notes: Set in the same universe as Just add water

“Hammer.”

“Hammer,” Eddie repeats dutifully. Dustin spends two or three seconds trying to drive the nail in with the object he's been handed, until he realizes it's a screwdriver.

“Very funny. I said hammer.”

“Apologies,” Eddie mutters, chucking the screwdriver back into the mess that is their toolbox with one hand and wiping his sunburnt forehead with the other. “I think we've been out here longer than is strictly healthy. How ‘bout we call it a day and head back to camp? It's almost dinner time.”

Dustin scowls. The hair under his Thinking Cap is matted with sweat and he is red-faced and splotchy. An unavoidable side effect of working out on the secluded pier all afternoon.

“We can't just stop now, it's almost done,” Dustin claims, gesturing at their rickety construction of wood and mesh - it’s supposed to be an oversized fish trap, even though Eddie thinks it’s turning out to be more of a funky modern art installation. “This'll work, I know it. This time, I'll prove that Lovie is real. All those past times, it got away too quickly, but if I could just-”

“Jesus, kid,” Eddie groans. “You and your lake monster. You don't know when to give up, do you?”

“Give up?” Dustin scoffs. “If Thomas Edison had given up, we'd still be lighting candles. If Homer Ahr had given up, we would've never walked on the moon. I sure as hell won't-?”

“The fuck is Homer Ahr?”

Dustin heaves a long-suffering sigh.

“Only mission control's chief engineer, Eddie? Honestly, that's the kinda question I'd expect from Steve, not you. Where is he, by the way? I thought he wanted to help us.”

“No idea,” Eddie admits. “Lucky bastard.”

Dustin draws a breath, probably to ask what he means, but Eddie is saved by the sound of the dinner bell floating over from the camp grounds.

“Okay, you gremlin, off you go,” he says, pushing the kid towards the sound before another argument can break loose. “We can finish this tomorrow when we aren't dehydrated and grouchy.”

Dustin grumbles. “What about you?”

Eddie waves him off. “Be there in a sec, lemme put away your shit first.”

He starts picking up their scattered tools, throwing them back into the box. Only when he's sure that Dustin is well out of earshot does he collapse at the edge of the pier, naked feet dangling over the water's surface.

“Man,” he says. “That kid, right?”

There's a soft growl from behind him, and the barest of sloshing sounds, and a shadow falls over him. He only just manages to suck in a breath - knowing he'll need it - before a massive snout pushes between his shoulder blades and he goes plummeting into the lake. He’s dimly aware of the toolbox going down with him, and then the world vanishes in a whirl of bubbles.

He resurfaces to the feeling of arms wrapping around his waist and massive fins brushing his legs, and the sound of laughing voices - one human, one very much not so. He tries to glower at their owners, but actually needs a second to part the sopping curtain of his hair.

“So fucking hilarious, you aquatic asshats. I thought I told you to quit doing that.”

Lovie the lake creature just chirps merrily and dives back under again, splashing him with her fins as she goes.

Steve shrugs. The motion makes tiny droplets of water run down his bare shoulders and collarbones, bringing out his freckles and moles and tiny, glittering scales. Eddie wants to lick them. He has long stopped worrying about what that says about him.

“Sorry. She just wants you in the water with us. She likes it when the flock is together.”

His smile is apologetic, but his tail curls around Eddie’s legs in the water, fins wrapping around the two of them possessively.

Because, see, here's the thing. Over the past year, Eddie has not only discovered that his infuriatingly pretty fellow camp counselor is a mermaid and the guardian of an ancient lake creature. He has also somehow managed to score said mer-dude as a boyfriend and been adopted into the lake creature's flock.

“She never does that shit with Buckley,” he grouses, even though Steve’s words make something flutter in his chest. Steve's touch, also - hands on his hips, fins on his ankles. “She's part of the flock, too, isn't she?”

“Yeah…” Steve blushes, a delicious pink hue on wet, sun-tanned skin. Eddie wants to lick that, too. “But Robin isn't my…”

He trails off into an unintelligible mumble after that. Eddie wrinkles his brow.

“Your what? Come again, fish boy, I didn’t-”

“My mate,” Steve blurts, and the fins on his hips flutter excitedly under Eddie’s fingers. “Robin isn’t my mate.”

Eddie feels his mouth drop open. The water is unpleasantly cold against his flushed skin.

“Wait,” he says when he finally remembers how to form words again. “Hold on a second. When did that happen?”

Steve’s face is still scarlet, but his lips start twitching when he meets Eddie’s eyes. “That’s just the way she sees it. You can’t expect her to think in human standards. Now c’mon, we gotta get to dinner or the kids will wonder where-”

“Oh, no!” Eddie interrupts him, mouth tugging into a stupid, wide grin of his own. “No, no, no, sweetheart. You don’t get to tell me that we’ve been mer-mated for God knows how long and never officially consummated that sacred connection. I’m gonna get a mer-divorce if you don’t-”

“Oh God, shut up,” Steve groans, and kisses him.

As he gets dragged off to their favorite little shore, well out of sight from the camp grounds, Eddie bids a brief mental farewell to the toolbox lying abandoned at the ground of the lake. He’ll have to make up some story about where it went when Dustin asks him, but that's a problem for later.

For now, he’s got other things to think about.

More celebration ficlets

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #just add water #hype's 1k follower ficlets

98 notes · View notes

glorious-imagines · 3 months

Text

The Gala .II

TW: Mentions of Premature Birth

p1 p2 p3

"So, you and Conner?" Wally inquires as he sips some insanely expensive wine.

Y/n scoffs, "Yeah, we've been talking for a while. He's..." she shrugs.

"So you're not actively pursuing a romantic relationship with him?"

"No, I am... I mean, maybe?"

"Sounds like your heart isn't entirely in it."

"Conner's great. He really is. He treats me like I'm the center of his universe...

"But he's not Jason."

Y/n didn't like that he knew exactly where her thoughts were. But Wally was right. And she felt awful about it. "I hurt a lot less than I did in the beginning. Conner is the reason for that."

Wally takes her hand and leads her to the dance floor. "Think you can waltz and talk?"

There's a slight tingle of warmth in Y/n's nose as she allows Wally to take the lead. Her mouth quirked up wistfully as she glided across the floor. "You know, Jason is the one that taught me to Waltz."

"Really?"

"It was our first not-date."

"Not date?" Wally gently spun them.

"Ugh, I was so against romance in the beginning."

"Why?"

"Love hurts like hell. Bastard before Jay was a dickhead. But we're not talking about them." When Wally takes a step forward, Y/n takes a step back.

"Some other time, then."

"Anyway, Jason suggested we go on a date, but as friends. Of course, I was skeptical. 'men are garbage people' was my mantra. But Shana said, 'at best you have a good time; at worst you never talk to him again.' So, I went. Turns out he teaches a class on the Waltz to inner-city kids."

"Clearly, it worked."

"I didn't know then, but I fell for him that day. Like, of all the things he can teach those kids, why'd he choose the Waltz?" Y/n's laugh carried to those around her who laughed even though they didn't know what was said.

"It must have been love at first sight for him. And I can see why." He twirls Y/n away and then back into his arms as the song draws to a close.

Y/n sighed dejectedly. "He just had to go and ruin everything."

Wally pulls her into a hug. "Try giving Conner a proper go. He might surprise you."

"Thanks, Wa-"

"Please don't tell me y'all're having heart to hearts." Shana interrupts; she and her sister Meia looking rather disappointed in her.

Wally smiles brightly as he leans in to kiss Meia. "You can't just decide where to have a heart to heart."

"I hope you don't mind if I steal my beloved for a dance." Meia asks politely.

Y/n feigns shock. "Your boyfriend? Flirting with me when you have such a beautiful woman, already?" Everyone laughs when Meia tries to hide her face.

"See ya, Meia. If you see our third, lemme know so we can get him drunk as hell." Meia gives Shana a thumbs up before Shana drags Y/n to the bar. ... After his confrontation with Conner, Jason went to look for Y/n. He was serious about telling her everything. She deserved to know what a bastard Conner was. Like, yeah, maybe she didn't want to be with him. But he'd be damned if she stayed with someone who'd manipulate her life.

He was like a guided storm as he moved through people. Forcing them to break apart from one another and make way for him. He was determined to protect you from assholes. Conner being one of the highest order.

Then he heard her laugh. Saw her bright smile. His heart stuttered. His storm faltered, and he stood there. Gaping in awe of her. She was with Conner. Genuinely laughing at something he had said. Conner seemed to be embarrassed, trying to hide in his hands. Then she leaned up and kissed his hands before taking them away from his face. Her smile intact, she told him--

And Jason had to force himself to turn away. They were having such an intimate moment. Like they'd been together all this time. And he—he was intruding. He'd known her for so long. Had learned all her intricacies, her tells. Now, someone else was learning them. And he was an intruder. It hurt. Like hell. Like she'd stabbed him with a jagged and rusty knife, and Conner had twisted it.

His phone vibrated in his chest pocket. He took a breath. And then another. And one more. It was hard to collect himself when the object of his affection was twenty feet away. Being affectionate with not him. Breathe. Beathe again. In and out. Once his heart steadied and the sting in his eyes disappeared, he answered his phone.

"Jay, it's Gabby. We need to talk. Like now, right now."

"Why the urgency? You sound like you found a dead body." A beat of silence, and he was neverous that she'd known whoever she found. "Who is--"

"I didn't find a body, dumbass." She interrupted quickly. "Meet me at mine." And she hangs up.

He didn't like the sound of Gabby like this. All disoriented and vague. S'not like her at all. Well, least he had an excuse to leave. Being here was hell. He beelined straight to the nearest exit without looking back at Y/n.

He was at her place in thirty minutes. He'd decided to take public transportation. He ran into some school kids bullying another. He put a stop to it and gave the bullied his number for emergencies.

He pounded on her door. "Gabby, open up." He bangs some more.

She swung her door open, features fixed in a less than pleased grimace—a hand on her hip and one on the door. "Banging on my door like you the damn police!"

Jason chuckled; he knew she hated when he did that, obviously. "Next time answer the door faster."

"Get in here." She says and leads him to her bedroom.

He takes a seat on her bed, his hand going under her pillow to grab whatever snack she had there. "Ooh, gummy bears." He pops a couple in his mouth. "Why am I here?"

"So, I went to your place like you asked. With the pies. Isabel let me in, of course. She was all huffing and stuff. I didn't think much of it because she's pregnant. Figured every time she moved, it was like a workout because she's got to carry three bodies." She paused her incessant pacing to speak to him directly. "Which she is fucking huge, by the way. I am never having kids for as long as I live. You know any doctors--"

"Gabs, focus." Jason interrupts her babbling. And babbling wasn't like her. He glanced down, and she kept tapping her index fingers to her thumbs. "Just rip the bandaid, Gabby.

"There was someone there. He was naked except for a towel--"

"S'not like she and I are together in the sense that she can't be with other guys--"

"Lemme finish. Long story short, her water broke--"

Jason shot up with alarm. "What?! Gabby lead with that! She's months too early--!"

She put a hand on his chest and sat him back down. "Let. Me. Finish." She enunciated more sternly. "I saw the twins. They're adorable."

"Gabby," he warned.

"I had a friend of mine do a DNA test on them."

He glared at her. "Thats a line. How the hell would you have gotten--?"

"One of your many visits to the diner, duh. I was already in the process of it anyway."

"What?!" His anger suddenly flared.

"You're my friend! Of course I was gonna do it!" She huffs, frowning and shaking her head slowly. "Okay, yeah, no, I'm sorry. That was shitty of me. I promise not to do that again, and if you never trust me, I will understand."

Jason huffs too, his shoulders sagging like a weight lifted. "No, it's fine. I mean, it's not, and you definitely crossed a line, but... I get it. I... I kinda thought about it, too. I just wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt."

They both take a seat on her bed. She gently takes his hand in hers as he leans against her. "They're not mine, are they...?"

"Do you want them to be?" She whispers slowly, and he looks at her questionably. "Let me start off by saying the babies are fine. They're in that box thingy that keeps premature babies alive. Doctor says they'll have to stay there till they can breathe and eat on their own."

Jason nods along. "And Isabel?"

"Also, fine. Obviously, she needs to heal, but she'll be in there for significantly less time than the twins. Now, as I was saying, Isabel doesn't know that you know the truth. And after everything that's happened," she squeezes his hand a bit. "If you want to be a father to them, it's your decision to make."

"Thanks, Gabby. Never go behind my back like this again, but thanks."

~~~ I have no idea what a waltz actually looks like, so don't quote me on anything that I wrote 🤷🏿

Wait, should I have tagged Conner x Reader? 🤔

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood imagine #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #dc universe imagines #glori imagines #conner kent x reader

66 notes · View notes

the-cat-and-the-birdie · 4 months

Text

Hobie x Isekai!Reader

[Reading Between the Lines]

WEEOO WEEOO Platonic Fic Idea WEEOO WEEOO

Hobie x Reader Isekai fic where the reader (me) is a Spider-man meta-analysis writer and they fall into the ATSV universe.

They meet Hobie and are completely starstruck, unable to speak. Flabbergasted. Uhh okay imma just do the intro "Hi, My name's Hobie, Hobie Brown. I was bitten by a-"

"...WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO KNOW YOU GET WHAT I MEAN!! And for the last three years I've been the one and only- *proceeds to do his whole intro for him*."

"What the fuck. Those are my lines. Bruv cut that shit out wth."

Everyone thinks they're weird as fuck, but Gwenpoole (and other Nexus beings) are taught about at The Society at least, so it's not a mystery why they are the way they are.

But they're just SO META

They're basically bouncing and they tell Hobie 'OMG, your like my favorite superhero. I write about you ALL THE TIME- Ignore the OC folder'

Hobies like 'I'm not a hero-'

'I knew you'd say that!!!!! AHHHHH!!!!!'

All of a sudden there's this huge Hobie groupie fan in the group that knows everything about them and their trauma 😭😭

The reader sees Gwen and is like '.......I know this isn't my place but I've read through the scene between you and your dad and I have some comments I'd like to make. I can leave out the ones where I wish him death.'

There's even a scene like this one between Miles and Gwen

Where Hobie is like 'oi this your analysis book lemme see-' only to open to dozens of pages of x-reader fics and Hobie x OC drawings

And reader is like

'Uh.... I ain't write that. I don't know how that got in there. That's not even my handwriting. I found that notebook actually 😭😭'

Meanwhile Hobies like 'Christ - how much time do you have on your hands 🤨🤔'

'....Is it that bad?'

'Oh I ain't say it was bad. Could use a some work though. Actually- *takes out Noir's reading glasses (which he stole) from his pocket because he's not gonna stand here and judge a book by its cover*'

Of course Hobie still reads the x-reader cause he's a cocky bastard.

And then he returns said fics covered in red pen and notes of 'I wouldn't do that-' or 'actually you should add this. This would be better.' or even 'Lemme do it. That other shite you wrote don't make no sense'

BASICALLY HELPING CONSTRUCT FICS ABOUT HIMSELF. Simply because he finds the concept hilarious.

He gets to the smut and he's like "How easy do you lot think I am? Think you can have a pass at me, you must be taking the fucking piss-" just ranting and raving as he STILL READS IT

Sitting there with a cup of tea reading smut of himself and covering it in red pen like it's the mornings crossword 😭😭

The crew eventually realize that the readers power of trope analysis crosses over and it's SO USEFUL

All they need to do is get reader in front of Miguel and reader gives him a heartfelt reading and connection of his trauma that equals the culmination of ten years of therapy

They're like 'i know this is all an act Miguel. I know this is all an act to cover up the crushing feeling of chaos and helplessness that comes from canon. And really, all of this is just a mirror - you wanting to control how things 'should be' because there were so many things you went through that you think shouldn't have. But those moments are apart of you-'

Miguel's likes 'WAIT WOAH STOP TALKING'

They start bringing up Gabriel and Xina and shit from the comics.

Everyone's like 'Who the hell is Gabriel-" meanwhile Miguel is on the floor sobbing going 'mi hermano. mi hermano pequeno 😭😭😭'

And it ends with them all hugging Miguel after this person just read him for filth using the power of Isekai Canon Knowledge

I'm having TOO MUCH FUN WITH THIS

In the end Reader and Hobie become best friends because they both stand out so much in other universes and both take nothing entirely serious.

Plus they're both really perceptive and nosey and good at reading people so sometimes they see some subtle shit go down and they look at each other like

"We minding our business~ 😩🎶🗣️ we ain't gon say shit~ We gon mind our goddamn business 🎤🎸🔈'

Ok ok I'm done I'm done 😭😭😭

#this is pure self fulfillment and IDC #AHA!!!#Me and Hobie BFF5Eva #Hobie agrees DiscoPunk is 'cute or whatever'#his words #spiderman #atsv #spider man #marvel #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spider punk #spiderpunk #hobie x reader #hobie x you #hobie x y/n #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #Hobie brown x y/n

96 notes · View notes

jamminvroomvroom · 1 year

Text

on the weekends.

gr x fem!reader

finally done with the george win smut! sorry it took ages but we made it lol - mentally i am still in brazil. lemme know what you think ily ily ily!!

btw this is not linked to the george fic, this is a standalone! dedicating this one to @wetforwolff and @lovely-leclerc - you asked, you shall receive <3

warnings: 18+!! it’s smut!! bit of fluff, bit of angst, language, alcohol

3.5k words

you’d anticipated this day for as long as you’d known george. he looked like a winner, walked like a winner, talked like a winner. he fucked you like one, too.

back when you were just getting toto his coffee and george was making powerpoints, you knew this day would come. when you were taking on a bigger role and he was dragging the williams into q3, you knew this day would come. when you were finally at the top of the job ladder, draped in merc team kit in the garage every weekend and he was pulling a top five out of the bag every single time he got in the car, you knew this day would come.

you’d been stood in the back of the garage biting your nails, trying not to draw attention to yourself and your nerves. the humidity drove you insane, but not as much as he did. no one needed to know just how close you and george could get after a long weekend, and now wasn’t the time to publicise it. toto was back at the factory, leaving you exposed; usually you’d hide behind him when things heated up on track. you weren’t supposed to care which merc brought it home p1. a win was a win, a one-two was a one-two, and lewis was on the hunt. fair game. you knew you were fucked when you prayed that car number sixty three would come out on top. you knew it was foolish and selfish but a celebratory night in the sheets boded better than a consolation fuck.

a mercedes one-two and a meltdown at redbull rounded off your weekend perfectly. george had done it, just like you knew he would. lewis had pulled off the recovery drive that added more flavour to his greatness. a perfect day in the office, realised by three trophies to tell the tale.

toto was blowing up your phone. you answered, trying to wade through the masses in parc ferme. you lingered by the scales, pressing the big green button on your phone, toto’s face filling the screen, aged by a lacklustre season, masked by the elation of triumph. you beamed as you rambled about data and upgrades and and told him that you’d try and find george. you didn’t need to look much further.

a large hand ghosted over your waist, a shiver running up your spine and back down again. you turned, breath hitching in your throat. he was breathtaking; sweating, blue eyes clouded red, veins prominent in his trembling hands. his hair was a mess, body shaking from the adrenaline and his smile was so wide, so emotional that you almost doubled over. you couldn’t help but stare at him, at the blood, sweat and tears that had made him great. beautiful bastard.

you very rarely felt small in the presence of a man. you refused to, taking up space was the key to survival in your line of work. but for once, you allowed yourself to shrink, to succumb to it, the size of george. the size of success. he looked different, powerful. your thighs clenched.

all he did was stare back at you, a telepathic communication pinging backwards and forwards.

he was going to ruin you, and you were going to let him.

“are you there? hello?” toto grumbled, too excited to be mad at your ignorance towards him.

“oh- um,” you fumbled, thrusting the phone towards george. “it’s for you.” you smiled. his fingers brushed yours in the midst of the transaction and you shivered again. “someone’s very proud of you.” you murmured, eyes never leaving his.

you let your tongue swipe your bottom lip, hoping he knew that amongst all the chaos, you weren’t just talking about toto. it was dangerous to be so obvious in public, you could do that later, on your knees. with toto harping away in the background, george’s eyes darkened; it was too much, the adrenaline and your double meanings. dark blue eyes mentally undressed you, glancing hungrily over your body, and you felt naked in parc ferme. maybe one day you’d let him fuck you in the garage, you thought. perhaps if he won a title.

“i’ll bet.” he mirrored your action and licked his lips, the quickest wink being thrown at you, the most carefree you allowed him to be in public, and he turned his attention to your boss, who was bellowing away like the world’s proudest dad.

tonight was the night. brazil never disappointed.

hours passed, the muggy afternoon blurring into the hazy night. the champagne flowed, as did a few tears, the man of the moment being carried around on anyones shoulders and hosed down with alcohol. the team had craved this, worked for it, earned it. it was a bit like your relationship with george, really.

you couldn’t take your eyes off him, your entire body tingling in anticipation for later. so when it was finally time to go, you tried to slip away, get back to the hotel as quickly as you could. but of course, nothing ever got past george. he was the right amount of tipsy to grab both of your hands in his, right there at the entrance of the hospitality suite, and insist that you just share his ride back. it was stupid, utterly reckless, but you were the right amount of tipsy to accept.

hands intertwined, you stared at each other some more, until someone cleared their throat and you were being ushered out into the exposure of the paddock.

he didn’t let go and you didn’t make him.

he didn’t leave you any time to go back to your hotel room, coaxing you easily straight back to his. the tension between you was suffocating, it had been all afternoon, but nothing beat the journey from the track back to his hotel.

you’d gotten stuck in traffic, just as you always did in são paulo, which sent hands wandering early, carefully hidden from the driver that had the misfortune of picking you up. he trailed his fingers from your knee and up, up, up, occasionally grazing the fabric of your panties. your thighs would snap shut every time he did, your face a flaming shade of red. you looked out the window with wide eyes, trying to mask the urge to roll your hips, and all he did was stare at you, a devilish grin spread across his face.

you’d hurried out of the car, stumbling into the hotel lobby. you both did your worst at pretending that you weren’t tipsy, straight faces wavering as his hand dipped too low on the small of your back. you gave in, foolish, letting yourself lean into his side, giggling up at him with your head rested against his shoulder. your were caught up in the moment, blindsided by lovesickness, as he guided you into the elevator.

your breathing shook, fingers balled up as you tried to resist the cliche make out session in the elevator. it’s as if he could read your mind, pulling one of your hands into his and intertwining your fingers. he didn’t take it any further, not yet, knowing that no matter what the pair of you may have wanted, there was a time and a place. both were rapidly approaching as the lift reached its destination and you were let loose into the corridor. suddenly, nothing was funny anymore. urgency takes over.

down the corridor, force the key into the slot, wait for the green light. your back is against the door the second it’s been slammed shut. you’re used to this, the sudden pounce of him. your relationship survived on stolen moments and hurried touches, rapid pleasure. it was intense and the need for more fuelled you both because once could never be enough. so when he kissed you, it was quick, carrying the force and speed of a race car. you found yourself realising that for once, there wasn’t a flight to catch, or someone just waiting to interrupt, and your hands flew to his face, taking control of the pace. you deepened the kiss, slowing him down and licking your way into his mouth.

he seemed to get the hint, and you felt the slow press of his body moulding against yours as your lips moved together, nice and deep. it was different. your heart grew about ten sizes, on the verge of exploding for him. you moved across the room in some kind of trance, floating to the bed. shoes were kicked off, merc embroidered shirts discarded in a painful reminder of a pile, unidentifiable fingers working in the darkness to undo his trousers, to tug down your skirt. in nothing but your underwear, you tumbled into bed.

you were a mess of touches in the dark, clambering on top of him, his hands finding your hips. he held you tight, close, encouraging the roll of your hips and you sunk into his body. you could make out his face in the dim light, his shadowy features contorting as he lost any remaining scrap of control.

you were on your back in a blink, kisses pressed to your sternum, over the lace of your bra, peppered down your navel. your panties were peeled off, flung behind him onto the floor, instantly forgotten. he’d been waiting to get between your legs all weekend, desperate for you after the sprint, forced to wait by the reality of your jobs. he couldn’t wait any longer, wouldn’t. he slung one of your legs over his shoulder, open mouthed kisses pressed from your knee, all the way down to your inner thigh, as his arm wound its way around your other leg, spreading you open.

he was ready to dive in when you pushed yourself up on your elbows, one hand reaching down to cup his jaw, making him look at you. his eyebrows furrowed, confused as to why you’d stopped him when he could see just how bad you needed him, the way you glistened for him becoming a familiar, welcomed sight.

“george,” you breathed, “supposed to be celebrating you.” all he did was smile at you, leaning in closer to where you were aching.

“couldn’t have done it without you, sweetheart.” and with that, he escaped your hold, licking a stripe through your folds.

you fell back into the sheets, eyes glazing over and quickly squeezing shut. george was messy with it, licking into your cunt with an enthusiasm that had you arching further and further into him. his large hands gripped harder on your thighs, tightening every time you moaned louder. his tongue swirled across your folds, alternating between long laps and featherlight flicks across your clit, the differing sensations having you embarrassingly close already.

“george, stop, i’m gonna cum. want you in me. please.” you begged, warning him of just how close you were to your undoing, desperate to feel him back on top of you.

he didn’t let up for a second, barely even acknowledged you. all he did was stare up at you, amused eyes twinkling through the darkness as he doubled his efforts. all of the sudden, you were numb with pleasure, writhing against the sheets. your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping at the dirty blonde locks so hard that it must of hurt, but just like everything else you threw at him, he seemed to be enjoying it, humming into your pussy as he helped you ride out your orgasm. it all felt too much, too overwhelming; you didn’t know whether to push him away or pull him even closer.

finally the pleasure began to subside, relief washing over you for barely a second before he was pushing two fingers through your folds. his tongue continued to curl against your clit as he slid his fingers inside you. you whined at the overstimulation, grinding your hips to meet his movements.

“george, i can’t-“ you started, panting, only to be cut off.

“you’re gonna keep coming for me, sweetheart. okay?” he told you bluntly, fingers working into you quickly. “do you know why? because i won.” he smirked, “i won and this is my reward.”

you could already feel your second orgasm building, his words along making you shake, his fingers hitting your spot each time with ease. you were dripping all over him, limp from the pleasure, desperate to cum just so that he’d put you out of your misery and fuck you.

“one more for me, yeah? one more, darling, and i’ll stop.” george murmured, thumb brushing over your clit, fingers beginning a deep grind into you.

“please, george.” you whined, eyes blurry with unshed tears.

he kept going, going, going, until you were shaking once more, seeing nothing but white, hips bucking wildly, uncontrollably. he had his mouth back on you, lips wrapped around your clit and his fingers buried inside of you, until he was sure that you were finished. you laid there lifeless, the aftershocks rocking your body while he licked his fingers clean. your mouth parted at the sight, eyes fluttering shut when you felt his lips working across your thigh, to the crease where your leg met your body, up, up, up, until he was hovering over you again.

your fingers interlocked at the nape of his neck, twisting in his hair to pull him close. he kissed you, ferocious, pulling your thigh over his hip to line himself up with your entrance. your mouths fell open as he slipped inside of you, broken moans tumbling from your lips and into his mouth. you could hear his breath stuttering as he sunk deeper and deeper into you, until his hips hit yours.

“how does that feel, darling? being fucked by the race winner?” george groaned lowly, lips skimming the shell of your ear as he spoke. you tightened around him inadvertently, feeling a rush of wetness at his words.

“so good, you’re so good.” you whimpered, absolutely pathetic beneath him. all you could do was give in, let him have his way with you. it’s what you both needed.

“i know, love. i know.” he muttered, his arrogance as he fucked into you making you weaker and weaker. it was obscene, the way his behaviour was such a turn on to you. if any other man dared to speak that way, so unsubtly cocky, you’d roll your eyes and find the nearest exit. but for some reason, when george did it, you were ready to fall to your knees; you got off on seeing him succeed.

“you feel like fucking heaven.” george sighed, teeth sinking into your shoulder as he slammed into you, rhythm never faltering, hard and deep into your dripping cunt. “all i could think about in the car when i crossed that line was you. knew you’d be soaked for me, darling,” he whispered. “knew it as soon as i saw you after the race, had that look like you were just waiting to be fucked. i would have done it right there, you know, in the middle of parc fucking fermé.”

you cried out, body shuddering at his admission, completely boneless on the bed as he rocked into you. you knew you were close, urgently approaching your orgasm, wanting to get him there too. you could tell he was getting closer to his end, breathing getting heavier, thrusts getting slightly more frantic.

“come on george, want you to cum for me. need it.” you pleaded, nails raking over his scalp and down across his shoulder blades, digging in to leave red tracks down his back. you could feel him tensing under your touch, chest to chest, breath mingling as he pulled away from your neck to look at you. to really, properly, look at you.

something happened, then, that you couldn’t quite grasp. it happened all at once, something changing in his eyes that you knew was mirrored in your own, something that you couldn’t articulate, that you’d never let him see before. you didn’t know if he was feeling it for the first time, or if he was like you, too scared of reality to let it slip through. as quickly as it happened, you were squeezing your eyes shut, overwhelmed by the pleasure of having him on top of you, your legs tightening around his waist, trapping him against you.

you fell apart, levitating somewhere above the clouds, seeing nothing but white. the only thing that brought you out of it, back to life again, was the feeling of his weight crashing down on top of you, not a millimetre between your slick bodies. the groan he let out was carnal, utterly delirious as he came down from his high.

when he kissed you after, making no effort to get off of you, you let yourself have hope for the first time ever.

afterwards, it was quiet. it usually was between you. sometimes there was only time for the quiet moments, no time for whispers across pillows or to be held in his arms. tonight there was time. you could hear his breath slowing, you own heartbeat still ringing in your ears. next, there was the crumpling of the sheets as he turned towards you.

you were laying on your side, facing away from him. you needed these moments after to compose yourself, to take it all in before it was over again, until the next time. his hand grazed your waist, down to where the duvet covered you, grabbing softly at your hip. you could feel his body heat, turning slowly to look up at him. he was resting on his forearm, fingers trailing over any bare skin he could find.

neither of you spoke yet, there was still no need. you curled into him as he laid himself back against the pillows, enveloped in his arms. your head rested on his chest, a sense of total calm settling over you. you dreaded these moments, because it always felt the same. he made you feel safe and warm and relaxed, and it was awful. it was especially awful when there was only one race left before he would disappear off on holiday, and then go back to his family, and you’d submerge yourself in christmas drinks in london and making sure that the w14 wasn’t as god awful.

then, you’d see him again in february wondering if he’d finally gotten a girlfriend, despite that inkling of hope, or if he was bored of your face every time he shut the door of a hotel suite. you were far too scared to broach either topic and somehow he always came back to you. what if he didn’t, though? what then? you’d never be allowed to enjoy him all the time because what if? what if? you were only allowed him on the weekends. he could only be yours on the weekends, when everyone else stopped paying attention. looks shared in the heat of the moment did nothing to change that.

“i meant what i said. couldn’t have done it without you, you know.” he broke the silence, and you were thankful that you didn’t have to do it.

you let his words sink in. you hadn’t been able to before, submerged too quickly into the white hot pleasure to form a coherent thought.

“it’s a team effort.” you whispered. you didn’t move to look up at him. you couldn’t bare it for some reason.

“no. that’s not what i mean.” his voice was somewhat even, only slightly laced with annoyance. george never liked having to over-explain himself, he was very good at making people understand the first time. apparently that had never quite translated to you, too much time spent second guessing him, and more importantly, yourself.

“what i’m trying to say is thank you. for everything. for believing in me.” he murmured, lips pressing against your hairline. his fingers found yours in the dark, lacing them together. “with you, it’s a different kind of team effort. always felt like you were on my side. when i was at williams, when i joined you at mercedes, you always had my back.”

you stayed silent, unsure of what this meant, words being spoken softly into the darkness. it was overwhelming, having him vocalise his gratitude to you, something he’d never really done before.

“always knew you’d do it.” you whispered, words fanning across his chest. it was all a bit too intimate, unfamiliar territory being explored for the first time.

he turned into you, your head no longer resting on his chest, the low visibility doing nothing to hide the desire in his eyes as he leaned in and kissed you. it was slow, soft, that feeling from before nagging at you as your naked bodies moulded together. one hand cupped his neck, the other still held tightly in his.

this never happened after. ever.

how long could it last? slow kisses turned into sleep, held tight against his chest as the night faded into the misery of monday morning, and the weekend was over.

we love an ambiguous ending lol

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @turningxstrange @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @yeolsbubbles @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @organasith @micks-afterglow @blueflorals @juno-1610 @lqvesoph

i’ve removed any tags that weren’t working! pls let me know if you wanna be added to my taglist or removed! <3

#george russell #george russell x fem!reader #george russell smut #george russell fluff #george russell angst #george russell imagine #george russell oneshot #george russell x you #george russell fic #george russell writing #f1 smut #f1 fic #f1 fluff #f1 oneshot #f1 angst #f1 fics #f1 imagine

459 notes · View notes

chain-link-smut · 3 months

Note

I JUST THOUGHT OF AN AMAZING IDEA (this can be a request or just me sharing an idea with y'all -- whatever you prefer)

Okay so like. Reader (with either a 😻 or a 🍆) and a Link of your choice (with the opposite genitalia) accidentally get body swapped.

Lemme explain my vision:

I'm thinking maybe after a portal shift, Reader and Wars/Time/whoever find themselves separated from the group, and they get attacked by...idk, an infected Wizzrobe? After that, the Wizzrobe (or whatever) disappears; the two of them pass out, and when they wake up -- bam. Body swap.

I'm a little unsure about this next bit -- perhaps whatever spell the Wizzrobe used also makes people horny? Perhaps the two accidentally run face-first into a sex-pollen plant? Perhaps the two are simply curious about what it feels like to have the opposite genitalia, and decide that now's a perfect opportunity for experimentation? Idk, dealer's choice -- but regardless, it leads to some smutty times.

I'm thinking: First Time/Horny Teenager Vibes (to clarify -- they're BOTH adults, but I say "horny teenager vibes" only bc neither person truly knows how to use the other's "equipment").

I'm thinking: guided masturbation, as each person experiments with the genitalia they currently have to see first-hand what feels best for their partner.

I'm thinking: overzealous, passionate fucking -- whoever currently has the dick experiencing the bliss of being engulfed by the heavenly wet heat of their partner's (well, their own) pussy; whoever currently has the pussy experiencing nirvana from the sensation of penetration -- of feeling their partner filling them up, of their partner reaching so far into their core, practically kissing their soul with how deep their partner's (well, their own) cock is. First Time Vibes all around, essentially, for this pair of experienced lovers.

(And perhaps, whoever currently has the dick clings tightly to their partner so they won't accidentally slip out, desperate to keep their cock warm as they're panting and whimpering from the pleasure; perhaps, just before either of them have fully caught their breath, the current dick-haver begins rutting into their partner again, growing hard inside their partner -- consumed by a feral need to do it all over again; whining prettily about how they get it now -- why their partner is always so eager to make love whenever possible. "It...oh, it feels so good...! I can't...If this is how you feel every time, then fuck, I get why you can never keep your hands to yourself; I wouldn't either, if I were you -- fuck...!")

DFBDHBJFONSFWJVSFOIVW!

Oooo Beasty, what deliciousness is this?! Body swapping? I’m listening… (sorry that this took so long to get to. Hope it is close to what you were thinking)

Wizzrobes are such bastards or as I call them, Twinkle Toes, but we may need to keep them around if they are going to do things like this. Wizzrobe Rod + Sex Pollen, that would be a weapon to hunger for.

Warriors and you stepped through a portal like all the others just did, but you two are the only ones on the other side. Red flag for you both, but neither had a chance to draw a weapon before a dark Wizzrobe released a pink and purple magic into your faces, coating you both in a powdery substance.

Warriors let out a hushed curse.

“What?” you asked, now concerned more by his response. Even more so when he pulled out a cord of rope. “And that is for what, exactly?”

“To tie our hands together. That magic we just got blasted with will have us unconscious in a few minutes and I would prefer to not have to track you down when we wake.”

“Track me down? What are you ta-” You didn’t finish your sentence, dropping like a sack of feed to the ground.

“Lightweight.”

Waking from your involuntary nap, you pulled at the rope now around your right wrist. It was unpleasant at the least. You groaned, blindly slapping Wars chest to wake him, but it didn’t feel right. It was soft and squishy.

You turned your head and was met with yourself, sleeping right next to you. Forgetting that your hand is tied to yourself, you tried to scurry away, but that only caused you to drag the other body that looked like you.

“Hey!” It was strange to hear your own voice and clearly it wasn’t what the other you was expecting. “(Y/n)?”

“Yes?” You slapped your hand over your mouth, taken by surprise that Warriors voice came from you. “What happened to us?”

“Body swap?”

“Why are you saying it in the form of a question when you said you knew what the magic was?”

“Usually it just knocks you out and you get super horny, not all this.” He gestured to you both.

You gave a smirk. “Usually? So you have used this stuff before?”

“Most adults in my Hyrule use it recreationally, so yes, I have.” He, in your body, leaned in, moving your face, his face, from side to side. “Damn I look good.”

“You-!” You slapped his free hand away, untying your still joined hands quickly.

Upon standing, Wars laughed, looking down at your hips. “Seems that the magic has settled in already.”

You looked down and there it was… you were solid and eager. “How do I get rid of it?”

“Gotta use it.”

“Fine, I’ll be back later.”

“Jacking off doesn’t work.”

“DAMN IT!”

Warriors laid back down. “Not that you would know what to do with a weapon of that sort.”

You placed your hands on your hips, “And you think you know how to use what I originally have?”

“Duh.”

You had always wanted Warriors to eat his words and this was going to be the greatest way to. Without a word you began to take the excessive amount of clothes off, happily watching the other grow more and more uneasy.

Standing naked, Warriors had a blush on his cheek and you can’t help the thought of how pretty yourself looks like that. What you weren’t expecting was him to bite his bottom lip while his eyes roamed over you.

“Conceded much?”

“N-no. Pretty sure it’s this body going on instinct more than anything else.” He rubbed his thighs together and you knew what that meant.

“Undress, it isn’t going to take care of itself.”

There was a shyness once both of you were stripped of clothing, looking down at your new bodies and the ones that were originally yours. You felt like the teen you used to be when you lost your virginity, not sure exactly what to do or what was okay. You wanted to touch, but how-

“Wrap your hand around just below the head. Not tight enough to rub raw, but enough for it to feel good.” Warriors directed, seeing your curiosity. And didn’t that feel good as your hand stroked in a steady rhythm, slowly building the need to be sunk inside something hot and wet.

You kept up the slow pace as you saw Wars move his hand to between his legs for the first time, barely touching his new sex. You let him explore, snorting a laugh when he hisses in discomfort from harshly swiping over his clit. “Hurts doesn’t it?”

“Yes! I do that to you sometimes, why haven’t you told me not to?”

“It doesn’t always hurt. Here, let me show you.” You blushed as you touched your own body part. It wasn’t like you hadn’t snuck your hands in your own pants before to find pleasure, but this was so much more than that.

Warriors caught on quickly, moving his fingers on either side of the sensitive button, then a larger circle over top of it with three fingers.

His cheeks flushed, mouth gaped and panting, you tell him to stop. He whined high in his throat, but did as he was asked. You took a deep breath meaning to calm yourself, but the scent of pheromones was all you got and it made you dizzy.

With two fingers you stroked the soaked folds that Warriors hadn’t made it to yet, gently pushing in. His back arched some, hands going to his chest as you thrusted inwards more. You added a third finger and had him moaning for more. You curled your fingers forward, finding that spot that made his eyes cross, giving it several ‘come hither’ motions.

“Please, please, please!” Wars begged, a hand reaching for your hair.

When he got a fist full of hair, you slowed down, saying, “Words, Wars. What do you want?”

“Mouth! I want- ah!- your mouth.”

When it came to oral pleasure between your legs, you had a rule: If you weren’t okay with having your own mouth down there, no one else needed to be down there. Knowing that you had just taken a bath that morning, you were fine with him guiding you down with both hands.

Trying not to overthink it and remember what felt good, you got to work lapping at the still twitching, clenching, wanting entrance. You pulled a hand from your hair, placing it at his clit, silently telling him to go back to stimulating himself. It didn’t take long after that for the warning moans to be voiced and his release to drip down your chin and you got to see first hand how you tasted.

“So that’s what that feels like.” Wars said with a blissed look on his face.

“Good right?” you smirked, as you removed the moisture from your lips.

He looked into your eyes, biting his lower lip. You were somewhat between his legs still and he widened them further apart, spreading himself open as an invitation. Getting a little closer, cock in hand, you look between yourself and him, cheeks turning pink.

“You’re not nervous now, are you?” he asked.

“No, just… I don’t know what to do.”

Wars sat up on his elbows. “After everything we have done together in the past, you don’t know where to put it?”

“That’s- that’s not what I mean!” Your face went a rosy red. “I just don’t know what to do with-” you pointed both hands down towards your hips. “-this.”

Warriors gave a breathy laugh, saying quietly, “It’s like being a young teen all over again.” He sighed with a smile. “You know this body better than I do and what feels good to it. Go off of that.”

He had a point.

Scooting closer, you could feel the heat rolling off of him and your cock twitched, automatically knowing what was to come. Taking it in hand, you rubbed the head between slick folds, coating yourself.

Silky, wet, hot.

Warriors mouth fell open as you kept sliding in further and further. “Holy Golden Three!” He looked down where you two were joined. “And that’s not even all of it?”

“You aren’t lacking, Cap. Ha-ah! No wonder you can’t keep your hands to yourself. I would want to fuck every chance we had if this is how it is.”

“Is that an offer?”

Doing a hard thrust forwards, you had shut him up, but you couldn’t stop at one thrust. You slid in and out of him with ease due to the constant fluid. Holy shit it felt good and so tight! You got a bit carried away and pulled too far out, leading to you grinding your cock between his folds and up over his clit.

“No no no! Put it back, put it back!” Warriors pleading voice made you smile, letting him see how it felt to be denied the pleasure after having it. Missing his heat, you plowed back into him, pulling a high pitched moan that nearly turned to a scream.

Re-entering him was so much more invigorating, more intense, just- more. You could feel how you filled him full, touching every internal wall, the squeeze around you. The sounds he was making because of you, gave you just as much pleasure as the feelings.

Needing him closer to you, you lean down and scooped him up in your arms to have him in your lap. Your arms encircled him as his went around your neck. Your lips met in the hungriest kiss you had ever experienced, not caring how slopping it may have been. You couldn’t get enough of him, no matter how close he was, no matter how deep you were seated inside him. The thought of him slipping away had you latching your teeth to his shoulder, hot air panting between locked teeth.

Bliss was the look on his face as he bounced in your lap. His words rang in your ears, echoing in your mind. “I can’t- please! It feels so fucking good… don’t stop, I-!!” He painfully pulled your hair, but it still felt delicious to you. “I’m never- ah! -taking my hands off of you. FUCK!!” Warriors smashed his lips to yours, trying to silence his scream as his orgasim had hit, trapping you like a vice and forcing yours to spill your release, filling him full with technically his own seed.

Ears done ringing, vision back, you looked at each other, breaking into laughter at how ridiculous the situation had been. The blush on his cheeks made you agree with the statement he always told you afterwards when you were glowing. “So beautiful.”

“Shut it…” He smiled though. That smile turned into confusion. “That’s new.”

“What?”

“You came, right?”

“Yeah.” In response to your answer, he flexed around you, showing that even though you had came, you were still as erect as you were when you two started. With a devilish smile, you laid on your back, bringing him down with you.

This was going to be a very, very, long session of exploring, trying new things and bringing each other to the greatest highs either had ever experienced.

#loz smut #purely smut #18+ only #anon ask #anon requested #shade answers #beasty asks #warriors x reader(fem)#body swap #gender swap #this should not have taken a month to get to

42 notes · View notes