#I desperately needed a new pinned post ^^;

[loveydoveylex]

⭐ introduction ⭐

welcome, weary traveller! 👋 I'm lex!

you've stumbled upon my selfshipping sideblog! this is where all of my fictional lovey-dovey nonsense goes. if you took a wrong turn and wanted my main blog, you can find over that over at @lexintothenex!

I'm a 20 year old dude (he/him) who regularly falls hopelessly in love with Men Who Don't Exist. as you do.

💛 I currently have three primary f/os! 💛 these are tintin, vault boy, and spirou!

my main f/o at the moment is tintin, but you'll see sporadic posts about the others too from time to time.

I'm selective/iffy in regards to sharing... you can ask me for clarification if you'd like. my selfships are very personal to me. but I am okay with doubles interacting/following, though.

🚫 while I don't have an extensive dni list - I block bigots freely - I do ask that you please do not interact with me if you consider yourself pr0ship. it makes me incredibly uncomfortable, thank you. 🚫

other than that, if you're nice and chill, you're welcome here! ✨ I hope you'll enjoy my shenanigans! ✨

[nereidprinc3ss]

in the dead of night

in which spencer wakes up in the middle of the night with an overwhelming desire to feel you

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: fem!reader, soft dom!spence (certified nereidprinc3ss classic), sub reader, fingering, piv sex, praise, overstimulation, cr**mp*e (god pls we need a new term) a/n: this is probably THEE most self-indulgent thing i've ever written. but.... lowkey favorite smut i've posted thus far..... i'm such a sucker for disgustingly sleepy needy sex. just.... read it and u will see.... and as usual i love you!!! PLEASE tell me what you think!! MWAH

When Spencer got home around one in the morning, he’d been too dead on his feet to do anything more than get undressed, fall into bed, pull you close, and pass out. Now he’s slightly disoriented as he stirs, pinned between sleep and wakefulness as he realizes how you’ve curled into his side—your face is buried in his shoulder to the point where he’s concerned about your access to air—but each warm puff against his neck assures him you’re breathing alright. One arm is slung haphazardly over his shoulder and your top leg is wound around his. Without thinking, his hand cups the back of your thigh, stroking the bare skin where it presses against his hip. You’re never so soft as you are in sleep; plush, easy, gentle. Spencer realizes with some degree of frustration that he has to fuck you. That’s why he’s awake, and he condemned himself to the fate of it as soon as he touched you. 

Sometimes the impracticality of sex becomes so apparent he resents his own mammalian, biological drive to reproduce. It was never like this before he met you. You reduce him to nothing more than a primate doomed to follow its basest instincts. You make him feel stupid. 

God, he loves you. 

It’s with this in mind he drops his head to kiss your shoulder—a gentle sort of wake up call, as his hand snakes further around to your inner thigh and he presses his lips to your ear. 

“Baby?” he murmurs, kneading the smooth warmth of your leg. It doesn’t take much to wake you up. He thought after you’d been staying at his apartment on a semi-regular basis you’d begin to sleep through him getting up and coming home at odd hours, but if anything, you became more sensitive to the floor creaking or the mattress dipping. 

“Hm?” 

His fingers brush the fabric of your underwear. Your hips twitch. 

“Is this okay?”

You inhale deeply, readjusting your arms around him and nodding into his chest. 

“I need yes or no, angel.”

“Yes, please.”

The words aren’t desperate. They’re sleepy, mumbled, maybe even a little annoyed that he’s making you jump through hoops. The corner of his mouth twists in amusement at your perfunctory politeness and the way it poorly disguises your habitual impatience. 

“Thank you,” he says, rewarding you with his fingers pushing between your folds through the fabric. You say nothing more as he unhurriedly rubs your clothed clit, but he feels the way your breath catches for a moment—before pouring out in one deep tide. He presses slightly harder, transitioning from passes to slow, tight circles that elicit the tiniest, sleepiest moans. This goes on for a while until your hips begin grinding in isolated circles, chasing his hand. 

“Touch it,” you beg quietly. He can feel how damp you are through the fabric and realizes he was probably torturing you for several minutes, but sometimes he just gets so lost in touching you it becomes almost meditative. He pulls his hand away and snakes it between your bodies, sliding beneath your underwear and dragging his fingers over your puffy clit. You whimper but he quickly gets distracted when he realizes just how wet you actually are. Spencer sinks his fingers into you and moans lowly at the sound, rubbing at a spot deep inside you and rutting his palm against your clit rather than pumping his fingers. 

“Breathe,” he reminds you when he realizes how still and silent you’ve gone. A small amount of air escapes in a tremulous little cry as your hips roll gently against his hand—whether to escape the sensation or get closer is unclear. “You’re all wet, baby. Were you touching yourself before I got home?”

“Mhm,” you hum weakly against him. “Couldn’t come.”

Spencer feels like he could finish at the thought alone—the nightly phone calls while he’s away occasionally devolve into desperate phone sex and he’s gotten off to the image of you playing with yourself in his bed on more than one occasion. 

“We’ll make you come,” he promises, dragging his fingers from your soaked heat with bated breath. 

He pushes your underwear down first, until you can kick it off your feet (you’ll have to search for it between tangled sheets tomorrow) and then his own, inhaling sharply through clenched teeth as his cock brushes your tummy. Spencer hoists your bent leg further up his body, exposing your cunt a little more and reaching underneath your thigh until he can guide himself between them. 

The head of his cock pushes between your folds momentarily before he’s teasing your swollen clit, slipping the underside of his tip over it in lazy, noisy circles until you whine. 

“Stop it,” you beg, voice still strained with sleep, “need it inside.”

“You’re right, baby, I’m sorry,” he croons, pressing his lips to your hair as he notches his cock at your dripping entrance and slowly begins to push in. “You’re being very patient—”

He cuts himself off as the two of you moan in filthy harmony. You’re so worked up for him, so defenseless in your half-unconscious state that he slips in with far less resistance than usual. 

“Fuck, me,” he groans under his breath, hissing and bucking his hips when you tighten around him and cry out. He shuts his eyes and thinks of the Goncharov conjecture in an attempt to control himself; the i-th cohomology of the complex is isomorphic to the motivic cohomology group—and then he’s fine. He’s at least learned to stop rattling off mathematical paradoxes out loud during sex. “You okay?”

The only answer you have for him is an indecipherable whine that makes his chest ache. He rubs your thigh in sweet, soothing passes. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” A thought occurs—he chuckles breathily, seeing stars as you throb around him. “You never let me in that easily.”

“Mm,” you squeak, gripping his shoulder hard enough that it aches and he truly couldn’t care less, “you feel good.”

He exhales shakily, pulling out slightly before grinding his hips even deeper into yours. 

“Yeah? So do you, sweet girl.”

“Fuck,” you whimper, and he takes it as a sign that you’re ready to be fucked. Spencer’s not thinking about a whole lot as he withdraws all the way and you clench around him desperately—but somewhere in the back of his mind he’s realizing how much he loves your dirty mouth. When he was younger and dumber, he thought he’d prefer a girl who was soft-spoken and rarely (if ever) cursed. Now that he’s had you, he realizes how compelling and endearing the contrast of your soft voice is when you’re swearing like a marine. 

“God, I missed you,” he breathes into your hair as he leisurely finds the right pace and you melt against him. “I missed how soft and wet you get for me,” Spencer admits gently, eyes screwed shut as he rambles from a place of profound affection and not at all thinking clearly, “and I missed how you cry when you need it so bad it hurts, and I missed how sweet you are when you let me fuck you right after I get home and you’re so tired, just like this. You’re always so good, honey, I don’t know what I did to deserve you—” You whine and clench so hard around him it becomes an effort to push back in, and he groans as he realizes you’re already coming. “Good girl, baby. Holy fuck.”

That last part is more so whispered to himself, but he can’t help it as he feels you painting his cock with your release. You’ve never come this quickly before, and he slips his arm beneath the crook of your knee, pulling up and granting himself more access to fuck you harder and faster. You moan brokenly, sinking your nails into his back. 

“‘m sorry. That was—I didn’t mean to.”

“No,” he quickly assures you, breathing hard, “that was so good, baby. It was perfect. Don’t apologize.”

It seems the brief window between climax and over-stimulation has passed, and a gasp falls from your dropped jaw, arching into him as your body unconsciously tries to find relief from the sensation. 

“Oh, god, Spencer, I—”

“You can take it, we’re getting close,” he promises. Not a demand, but meant as encouragement. “Do you think you can come for me one more time?”

“I don’t know,” you slur, the words rising to squeak. 

“I think you can. Come on, show me how you were touching yourself earlier.”

You whimper, but slide your hand from his shoulder and push it between your bodies. A gasp accompanies the jolt of your muscles as you make contact with your clit, probably demanding too much of it. Soon, however, the conflicted mewls melt into a rhythmic string of delicate, short moans, so pretty it’s like a practiced song. Spencer’s brain, usually overflowing with words, is nothing but a void of swirling fog—each of your perfect sounds, a little burst of light. Soon he’s making noises of his own, which you obviously adore if the way you tense around him is any clue. Usually he sublimates them into words, but he’s too tired, and you feel too good. Your combined moans, along with the sound of him fucking you and the sheets moving over skin make for a truly dirty soundscape. 

“Will you come inside me?” you beg breathlessly, and he can feel the movement of your hand speeding up as you get desperate. He sucks in a breath through his teeth at your plaintive request—the words bring him that much closer to finishing. 

“Yeah, baby. I’m—fuck, I’m not going to last.”

“Spencer—” and somehow, when you say his name like that, he knows exactly what you want. He bows his head and finds your lips, mostly blind in the dark, kissing you messily until that split second where his grip on reality becomes tenuous before the building pressure finally bursts. Multicolored fireworks explode behind his eyes as he moans against your lips and continues fucking you through his orgasm in strong thrusts for as long as he can. Thankfully you finish again just as he’s running out of steam. He rubs the spasming muscles of your thigh deeply as you writhe against him in your typical push-pull style—you don’t know what you want and it’s his job to hold you still and make you take it. After a moment you quiet down, stilling in his arms except for the continued expansion and contraction of your lungs. “Oh my god,” you breathe. “I can’t believe I did that. That’s so embarrassing.” Spencer chuckles breathily—kisses your forehead with his eyes still shut and slips a hand under your shirt to rub your back. 

“Why is it embarrassing? I liked it.”

“I have never—it’s never been so fast! It’s not supposed to be!”

“Why not?”

You huff.

“You’re the man. Men come too quickly. Not me.”

“I’m sorry you had to have two orgasms instead of one. Next time we’ll make sure you don’t come so we can even it out.”

You bury your face in his shoulder once more, immediately softening. 

“No! I take it back.”

“I thought you might.” His hand slides down your back, squeezing your ass affectionately. “Let's rally. We need to clean you up, angel.”

The pillow muffles your voice as you say, “I can’t. I’m asleep.”

“Can I record you saying that for playback in the morning when you ask me why I let you go to sleep with my come inside of you?”

“Spencer, I am seriously not moving. You woke me up. This is not a me problem.”

That makes him laugh, and he presses his lips to yours softly. After a long moment of his mouth moving slowly against yours, a needy little whine rushes from your nose, and it becomes evident he’s successfully kissed the attitude from you.

“You were so good, honey,” he murmurs against your lips. Another (shorter) kiss. “Did so well. I’m proud of you, baby.”

A second soft whimper from you as you chase his lips and he gives in once, briefly—knowing he can’t make you get up after this. How could he do that to such a sweet girl when she’s obviously completely exhausted? Jesus, you have him whipped. He recognizes that. And he made peace with it a long time ago. 

“Go back to sleep. I’ll clean you up.”

“Thank you,” you mumble, already slipping back into unconsciousness like you knew you’d get your way. Knowing your boyfriend, you probably did. “I love you.”

“I love you. Even though you’re a princess.”

You laugh. 

Ten-ish minutes later, once he’s done the best he can cleaning you up and is throwing the covers back over both of you, you startle him slightly by speaking. He thought you’d been asleep. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you sigh dreamily, snaking your arms around him once more. Spencer’s cheeks heat up at the memory of the praise he’d shamelessly lavished upon you not long ago. He’s glad you’re barely awake, because he’s too flustered to think of a response. 

He loves it when you do that. 

[suad-khaled]

Can you imagine being stripped of safety at the happiest moment of your life? I’m Suad, a young mother from Gaza, where I gave birth to my son Khaled amidst the chaos of w@r.

When I first heard his cries, I felt indescribable joy, but soon I was overwhelmed with fear. How would I protect him from the hor/rors surrounding us? Each day presents a new challenge from food and water shortages to a lack of medical care.

My family and I have faced repeated displ@cements, searching for a safe haven away from the bomb@rdments. I struggle daily to provide Khaled with his basic needs while our health deteriorates under these harsh conditions.

I urgently need your support to secure shelter and medical care for Khaled. You can be part of our story, as every bit of help makes a real difference.

If you can share my story or offer support, I would be forever grateful. Hope exists, but we need you to help us achieve it. Thank you for your understanding and big hearts.

Please share my story; it might reach someone who can offer support. If you’re unable to donate, sharing my story would mean so much. You can spread the link across your social media and reblog my pinned post. Additionally, sharing my account can help others follow our updates and support us.

I’ve been verified by Nabulsi, El-Shab Hussien, and NorthGazaUpdate, 90-ghost, and I’m listed on the vetted list on 279 line.

- Our story began with the birth of my son Khaled amid difficult circumstances; the joy was tinged with fear due to the surrounding situation. Link1 Link2 Link3

- Khaled fell seriously ill, and we had to take him to the hospital. These moments were filled with tension due to the lack of medical services and difficulty accessing them. Link1 Link2

-We experienced multiple displacements due to the surrounding dangers, facing daily threats to our lives and being forced to keep moving. Link1

-Khaled's health deteriorated significantly, and he required daily nebulization sessions to alleviate his condition, but power outages prevented us from providing the necessary treatment. Link1

-With the deteriorating conditions, we are suffering from significant financial pressures due to rising prices and a lack of resources, making it exhausting to meet our basic needs. Link1

I have come to realize that I can’t face these conditions alone. Every bit of support, whether through sharing my story or posting these updates, means so much to my family and me. I kindly ask you to help spread my story, as everyone who reads it may be a bridge to the support we desperately need.

Thank you for your understanding and your big hearts

@mushroomjar @heph @daily-spooky @blu-berry-blast @blu-berriez @neptunerings @neatleaf @fancysmudges @brokenbackmountain @mothblyatebanaya @aleciosun @fluoresensitivearchived @khizuo @lesbia @transmutationdice @schooloutfitideas @schoolhater98 @timogsilangan @buttercuparry @sayruq @malcriada @akajustmerry @sar-soor @palestinegenocide @feluka @tortiefrancis @flower-tea-fairies @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @tsaricides @visenyasdragon @kordeliiius @belleandwhistle @belleandsaintsebastian @raelyn-dreams @ear-motif @troythecatfish @theropoda @4ft10tvlandfangirl @queerstudiesnatural @skatezophrenic @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @awetistic-things @sygourie @junglejim4322 @junglejim4233 @heritageposts @chososhairbuns @daily-spooky

@imjustheretotrytohelp

[00kittenz]

── desperation. ( psh ) 📠

pair: boss!sunghoon ㅊ employee!f!reader | warnings: smut, secret relationship, age gap (sunghoon is 10 years older), semi-public s.x (?), hoon is a needy boi, coercion, quickies, dirty talk, piv, no lube, no protection (don’t be like them!) | words: 1.4k

imagine boss!sunghoon being so needy n desperate for you at all times, he just can’t seem to keep his hands off you.. just needs to cop a feel whenever he can bc he’s that obsessed w you ;( he’s also willing to skip important business meetings just so he can bring you into his office when no one’s around and have you bent over his desk— loving the way your curves hug the work uniform in all the right places..

this is my very first ever post on enhablr !

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“please?” sunghoon’s desperation grew as time went on, nothing but lust clouding his judgement. he had you pushed up against his desk, caging his arms around the slope of your waist, hindering you from any retaliation, utterly defenseless in his hold.

“i promise i’ll be super quick..!” he pleads even more, pressing wet kisses all over your face, his pouty lips still lingering along the rim of your jaw afterwards. “just need you, so so sooo bad.”

sunghoon has been “negotiating” with you for the past ten-ish or so minutes, playing every trick in the book he possibly can in getting you to fold like a sunday lawn chair for him. what may have prompted all this you wonder ? well, he simply got hard at the sight of you and now you’re the one in ‘trouble’ because he can’t function while being bricked up at work. you two had an odd relationship to say the least… he was your boss, the man you reported to every day and pick up his morning coffee before he arrives at 8 AM sharp, but you also sleep with him sometimes?? (you thought it would be just a one off occurrence but sunghoon wanted it to be a more frequent, fwb type of deal..)

you were seriously hoping that he’d leave you alone today, you had a lot of work that needed to get done within a short timeframe and distractions weren’t going to do you any good, however, you couldn’t just say no to park sunghoon. there were dozens of other women who’d kill to be in your position, they already tried to seduce him one, two many times before— except you of course. you were like the golden employee who always followed orders, listened to directions the first time, and did everything the right way, he’s never really had to reprimand you and even on the rare chances you do mess up, he’d handle it with you in private; just like how he’s doing now.

hell, sunghoon makes it excruciatingly hard to resist him. especially when his breath inched beneath your ear, silky strands of jet black hair tickling your chin as he begs for your touch.

“i told you i was busy— hoon, s-stopp !” you helplessly whine, your mind kept telling you to refuse but your body was saying a completely different story. he knew exactly where to pull the pin, knew just how to make you give in to his not-so-safe-for-work desires.

“oh are we now ?, too busy for me ? what happened to wanting to get that new promotion, huh ?” he cocks his head to the side, turning arrogant all of a sudden now that he can use something as leverage over you. it’s a shame that he has to stoop to such low levels but he’s willing to try whatever method that’ll get him exactly what he wants.

as he whispers in further detail all the naughty things he wants to do to you, your legs were brought to a tight close, wanting nothing more than to relieve the ache you felt between your plush thighs; you feel dirty, disgusting for wanting your boss to fuck your brains out, it’s unprofessional, you shouldn’t be doing this— letting him have access to you whenever he wants almost felt dehumanizing.

though, you be lying if you said he didn't strike a bone in your body, maybe 3, or 4.. 10 at most. hell, maybe even all of them. some days you were able to keep your cool and act as though he had zero effect on you— however, he was just so unable to resist at times. you couldn’t help but be attracted to him; even if he was an asshole sometimes, you secretly liked it in a sick, twisted kind of way. if he was going to play this little game then you may as well play right along, plus you weren't gonna just walk around with soggy panties without getting something in return, right ? right.

“oh ? giving in already, guess you really do want it that bad, huh ?” he smirked childishly as you finally cave in, rubbing up against him, spreading and burying his knee between your thighs.

“shut up, do you wanna? or not ?” so over his annoying little antics, you gradually wiggled your hips against his toned, muscular thighs.

“it’s cute when you act all needy for me.” his hands caressed your waist, taking your leg to his hip, in effect your pencil skirt riding up your thigh.

you felt his clothed dick against your core as he pressed his body against you. sloppily taking your tongue against his.

you've always wondered how this man could get you so hot and sweaty all over a few words. then again, as long as you’re pleased; does it really matter ?

“fuck..” you spoke, hand grabbing at his tie, the melody of his luxury belt being unwrathed gave you a tsunami of chills. “quickly, i have a meeting in..” you checked you wrist, reading the analog watch that sat delicately along your veins. “15.” you heaved heavily, he tugged down your tights physically prepping himself with his hand.

“thats enough time to make me bust twice.” he chuckled. his length entered your puffy, dewy pussy.

“quick busser !” you laughed, knowing it'd strike a chord within whenever you tease him.

taking your ass in his hands before he paces himself. “you love when my dick coats your pussy in a thick coat. so, suck it.” he groaned, kissing onto your collarbone to keep himself quiet.

his office wasn't what people would call sound proof, but at a good distance from the door, nobody could be able to hear you. but keeping you quiet would deem to be the most difficult part.

sunghoon bear hugged you keeping you tight against him, he thought fucking you in your work attire, especially your tights, had to be the sexiest shit to dance on this earth. it's honestly why he's here. the way the thin black fabric wrapped around your thighs, he could just picture your sloppy pussy, wrapping around him. balls deep. and you took him so. so. so. well.

“ugh, yesyesyes..” your ragged breathing swam through his ears, giving him an ounce more of stamina. “shit !” your clit throbbed at his lower abdomens slight back to back friction, you grind up onto him, to feel more of that reminiscing release edging you.

he nibbled at your lips before taking them against his. “shut the fuck up. you dont— hell..wanna get caught do you ?” he swatted your thigh, thrusting himself at a slower, but rougher notion.

“fe—feel so good, nggh.. hoon..” you whispered, biting at his ear.

your forehead glistened with sweat, the buttons of your shirt leaving your perky breasts opposed and exposed. you threw your head back at the pulsating between the two of you, you could feel him. throbbing, and hardening inside of you, and it turned you way the fuck on. just as your pussy throbbed against his hard.

“c'mon mama.. you wanna drench your boss’s cock? huh ?.. wanna make it all gooey with your cum ?” he pushed you closer and closer with his words, as if him ramming into you wasn't enough.

“yes.. wan' make it gooey, baby !” you whispered under your breath. throwing your head back, leaving your boobs to bounce under the escaping light of his blinds.

“then cum, be a good girl..” sunghoon’s breath quickened, he was near the edge himself, if not on it.

the two of you, moaning into each other's lusty mouths, aching for more. your groans becoming quickened and hoarse as the burning knot in your stomach leaves you in discomfort. until a strong stroke came to pop that growing bubble inside you, releasing you of all your numbness. you came onto his thickness.

sunghoon, lost it at the feel of you tightening around him, lays you down onto the desk, pushing down on your stomach. he could feel himself through passing through your entrance. just thinking about it, left him blissful.

“fuck, fuck ! 's fuckin' right, squeeze me baby..” he finally broke, leaving all his pellent inside of you, slowly pumping himself a few more times before sliding out. his figure, breathing heavily, leaning onto your heaving chest.

you could hear him chuckling after awhile of comfortable silence. “looks like you're gonna be late for your meeting miss. y/n.”

“you so owe me.” you glare up at him as if this was all his fault.

“i do ?” he kissed your tummy.

“yeah, you do actually.”

“and what may that be?” he raises his brow, pushing up his thin framed glasses.

“a real date.”

“can i take you back to my place after ?” he kissed your tummy through your shirt once more.

“deal.” you grinned, catching your breath.

you were a dirty mess. a mess that sunghoon, had absolutely no problem with cleaning up.

[slamminslamminmcgill]

I need to be high off my ass while deadpool fucks me. That’s it. that’s the post. Wade wilson the man that you are. Hurfgghdhhhh. yeah. weed makes me horny so definitely that…… Deadpool….. save me………….. headlock….. his arms…. ehhshhhshhhhh

deadpool headlock on drugs inspired by my last dick appointment coming right up!!

warning: intox (weed), choking, oral, daddy kink, humiliation, transphobic slurs

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy

suggested listening: Gorillaz - Superfast Jellyfish (trying something new w/ poolposting!! i love the deadpool soundtrack and the vibes the music creates for each scene so im trying to emulate that. also discovered recently that this is a perfect song to smoke and get your pussy ate to 😌)

“What was that? Didn’t quite catch that, sugarcunt. Speak up for me, will ya?”

“F-Feels so… feels so fucking gooooood…”

“Mm, but does it? If you’re still speaking in complete sentences, then my work’s not done. Go ahead and take another hit. Or two. Y’know what? Just finish the bowl. I’ll pack you another if you’re still too smart for my liking.”

Wade punctuated his order with a sharp smack to your cunt, sloppy with his spit and your need. His mask was pulled up just over his mouth so he could service you.

This motherfucker was trying to kill you. Or at the very least, give you some form of brain damage. Every consecutive orgasm reduced your cognitive functioning. To his credit, though, it sounded like a generous offer when he first proposed it.

“You need to relax, honey-boo. How’s about you smoke up while I go down, if you catch my drift?"

He was lying on his stomach, his chin resting in his hands, his legs in the air kicking back and forth, watching as you took rapid fire bong hits. You tried your best to burn through the bowl as quickly as you could, and you got about three solid clouds out before you started coughing. Hard.

“That’s it. You got it,” Wade cooed, stroking your inner thigh, “Just cough out all those neurons for me, good boy. Daddypool’s stupid little boy, I’m so proud of you!” He used your coughing fit as an opportunity to sneak two fingers inside you, and gawked at how you hard you clenched them. “Ooh, yeah, you got some good grip strength in you, cupcake. Squeezing those fingers like a hug from a church-going grandma. 'Am I gonna see you next week at the bake sale, honey?' Oh, yes, you will, Miss Nancy!"

What? What in the actual fuck is he yapping about? Was that supposed to be a joke? You had no mental bandwidth left to even speak, let alone dissect Wade's meandering, confusing, drawn-out metaphors for your pussy. "Wh… Wha-a-a?"

"Oh, that’s sounding much dumber, baby! Good boy!" He said cheerily, sliding his fingers out and wiping them on his suit. "Seems like you’re just about ready for Daddy."

--

"Oh my god, look at you! You look so cute pinned down like this! Aw, you can’t move, can you, dummy? Nowhere for you to go, huh? Except back onto Daddy’s cock where you belong."

Wade had you on your back, your ankles on his shoulders, his hands gripping your thighs as he pounded into you, over and over, deeper and deeper. So deep, in fact, it was as if he was shoving your womb up into your throat. Choking on that and a mouthful of drool, you cried out for him, pawing at his arms just to feel him close to you.

“Daddy—Da-! Daddy, Daddyyy-y-y~!”

Wade could see the desperation on your face, that yearning for closeness, and dangled it over your head. “Aw, poor baby, you need a hug? But you’re already hugging me so tight, with that—f-fucking wet honey-pot cunt you’ve got there—ah! Fuck! Ah… shit, I got’cha, come here.”

Wade withdrew his hips, leaving you gaping and empty without his cock stretching you out. He leaned down to wrap his arms tightly around you, though before you could hug him back, he flipped you onto your stomach. He pressed a firm hand onto your back to keep you lying prone on the mattress. With you trapped beneath him once again, he pushed back in.

“Ooooh, that’s it, babyboy, that’s the ticket.”

You sobbed into the pillows, keeping your sounds timid and muffled, and your dignity somewhat intact. But Wade wouldn’t let you off that easy. He hooked his arms around your neck and yanked you up into him. The pressure on your windpipe turned your moans into weak gasps and sputters. The lack of oxygen set your nerves alight, burning with hypersensitivity. And to make matters worse, he wouldn’t stop growling filth right into your ear.

“God, I can feel my balls smacking your tiny little tranny dick like this… Can feel you twitching… So fuck—so fucking wet… Mmmm, I’m gonna shoot the biggest fuckin’ load into you... Not… not yet though… No, I’m not done with you, yet, slutter-butter. I can just… mmm, edge myself inside you… keep you nice and full… All. Fucking. Night.”

[readychilledwine]

So I saw a post on Tumblr that read:

“Imagine getting fucked from behind in a broom closet of the house of wind by Rhysand, his fingers in your mouth and his breath against your ear whispering “quiet down pet, you don’t want Feyre to catch us huh?”

And I am so desperate for a fic inspired by this. 👀

I love Feysand so, so much, but the thought of this did something to me.

I love your work so I immediately came to you. If you write it, thank you!!! If not, thank you anyway bc I love all of your work!! Ok byeeeee

.......alright you got me....

Extramarital Escapes

Warnings - smut, affair, slightly dub/con, abuse of power on Rhysand's end

A/n - I don't normally enjoy the idea of an affair and cheating, but I turned this into something I can work with.

Part 2

This was wrong.

So very wrong.

You gasped as Rhys hit that spot inside of you again, growling as you clenched around him.

This was not what you had in mind when he hired you to be their live-in nanny. It had started innocent enough. Rhys would seek out your company when Feyre would head into Velaris. There were short glances, a soft touch to reach around you at times. Those touches slowly became longer, though. They lingered on your waist, the sides of your thighs, your arms. You had thought you were imagining it until Feyre's first trip out of the Court with Nyx.

"Have a drink with me?" He had stopped you from sorting the heir's clothing, tilting your head up to look at him. "They say you aren't supposed to drink alone, Darling."

You had agreed, following him to the cigar room you knew even Feyre never entered. It was his sanctuary. His place to be alone. She had her studio. He had this.

That one drink turned into him getting closer to you on the couch, cornering you between him and it. He tipped the wine back further as you took a sip, trying to get you to relax with this dangerous look in his eyes.

You were pinned below him an hour later, drunk and begging him to fuck you harder, to let you cum. All while he smiled above you, eyes blown out in lust, saying over and over again that you felt exactly like he imagined.

You had told him the next morning it was a one-time thing, that it would never happen again, regardless of if you wanted it to happen. The High Lord simply smirked, undressing you with his eyes all over again. "We will see."

He cornered and took you anytime he wanted after that.

On his desk after Feyre would fall asleep.

On the table when she was out of the house and Nyx was down for a nap.

In your room during the dead of night when he decided his wife wouldn't satisfy his need to feel complete control and power over someone.

You had told him this morning that you were done. If he continued to touch you after this, you would tell Azriel, Cassian, or Feyre, believing one of them would protect you from him.

You loved Nyx and he was why you had put up with being Rhysand's whore for so long, but you needed it to end. You needed the guilt to stop eating you alive at night. You knew you were worth more, are worth more.

Rhysand had again smiled. "You love your job, don't you, y/n?" You nodded, eyes watering. "And in your contract, it is stated your job is to ensure the happiness of my family, correct?" You nodding again. "Then I suppose if you are not willing to fulfill that obligation, I should find a new nanny."

He knew he had you as you took a shaky breath, tears rolling down your face at the idea of never seeing his son again. "I'd hate to take him away from you. He loves you so much, and it is so very clear you love him."

"Rhys, please," you felt him pull you to him, slotting you between his legs as he sat on his desk. "I just can't keep being a mated males whore."

His face softened, hand moving to hold your chin. "You are not my whore. You are my escape. If you do not want that, if you do not want to be loved by me, then we have so few options."

You looked up and away from him. "I just want to take care of Nyx. Like I was hired to do."

"Then you do so on my conditions."

That was how you found yourself, chest pressed against the wall in an unused broom closet. The High Lord pounding you from behind, his fingers down your waiting throat to silence your cries.

You felt your eyes roll back, moaning loudly as you sucked those digits. His other hand was on your clit, circling the bundle of nerves in time with each heavy drag of his cock. "Shush," he growled in your ear. "Gotta be quiet, darling. You wouldn't want Feyre to catch us, would you?" He nipped your pointed ear, causing your walls to twitch around him. "Acting like you don't love my cock inside of you this morning, but now here we are. Sure, it feels like you love it when I'm inside of you. Don't you?"

You could only nod, eyes squeezing shut and moaning more as his hips met the plush skin of your ass over and over, driving into you again and again.

You could feel your orgasm building waiting for him to give the command to let go, and suddenly, he stopped. Pulling out of you and slapping your aching cunt. "This is your punishment for trying to end things with me," he whispered into your ear. "If you're a good girl the rest of the day, maybe I will let you cum tonight when she goes to Rita's with the girls."

He left you there, wet and aching for him in that broomcloset. You sunk down the wall, head falling to your knees.

A few hours later, you had finally gotten Nyx down for the night. You sighed, heading to Rhysand's office to let him know the heir was sleeping, that you would tend to him during the night since Feyre was gone, but two hushed voices had you stopping.

"You have to tell her," a feminine voice stated. "I don't want her to quit over this. Nyx loves her, Rhys."

"I know," Rhysand's voice was barely audible. "She tried today. I had to manipulate her into staying before I fucked her in the broom closet. You were supposed to catch us and join us."

You covered your mouth, hiding the gasp you made before standing silently. Feyre sighed on the other side of the door, "I got busy. Azriel had reports, and he was looking for you. I had to lie to him, Rhys. I don't want to keep lying to our family about her and what she is to us."

"Then let's replan it for next week. Since you are supposed to be out of the house. I wanted to give her the weekend off. I'm scared if I do now, she won't come back."

You walked away, having heard enough information, yet not enough all at the same time.

You could not tell if you were angry, excited, curious. You went to your room, closing and locking the door.

As you bathed, the side of you that hated games began to emerge, and you began a plan of your own. In that moment, you decided one thing, if Rhysand and Feyre wanted to play, you'd play too.

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager

Rhys tag list:

@tothestarsandwhateverend

💜 If you would like to be added to my general taglist, or a character specific one, let me know 💜

[moonxytcn]

Shadows of Dragonstone

| Rhaenyra Targaryen x fem!reader

summary – You have been Rhaenyra's servant since you were a child and you will always be there for her, no matter what

tags & warnings – rhaenyra x fem!servant!reader, angst, a little dark themes?, fluffy if you squint your eyes.

a/n – I'm just back in my era of love for her. My queen! 🤭

| English is not my first language so there may be some errors.

| Masterlist —✽— Pinned post

 ㅤㅤ✯ ━━━━━━ ✿ ✫ ✿ ━━━━━━ ✯

–––

The halls of Dragonstone are cold and silent, a far cry from the warmth and bustling life of King's Landing. Here, the stone walls seem to echo the turmoil in your heart, reflecting the stark isolation that Rhaenyra must feel. She has always been a flame in the darkness, a beacon of strength and defiance, but now, that flame flickers dangerously low.

You have been her personal servant since childhood, a constant presence by her side. The bond you share goes beyond duty; it is a secret love forged in the crucible of court intrigues and whispered promises. It began on that fateful night when Daemon took her to the house of pleasure, a night that changed everything between you. Now, with Harwin Strong's departure to Harrenhal, Rhaenyra's heart aches with a new kind of pain, one that you feel deeply within your own soul.

The morning is bleak as you approach her chambers, carrying a tray of breakfast. You hesitate at the door, listening for any sound from within. The silence is oppressive, broken only by the distant roar of the sea. Taking a deep breath, you knock gently before entering.

Rhaenyra sits by the window, her silhouette framed against the grey sky. Her eyes are distant, lost in thoughts you can only guess at. The fire in the hearth struggles to warm the room, much like your presence struggles to warm her heart these days.

"Good morning, Princess." You say softly, setting the tray on a small table. "I brought you breakfast."

She turns her gaze to you, and for a moment, the mask of the future queen slips, revealing the vulnerable woman beneath. "Thank you." She murmurs, but makes no move to eat.

You approach her cautiously, your heart aching at the sight of her so desolate. "Rhaenyra." You whisper, daring to reach out and touch her hand. "Please, you must take care of yourself."

She looks at you, and the pain in her eyes is almost unbearable. "I am tired." She admits, her voice barely audible. "So very tired of losing those I care about."

You kneel beside her, your fingers entwining with hers. "You are not alone." You say, your voice fierce with the depth of your feelings. "I am here. I will always be here."

Her grip tightens on your hand, and for a moment, it seems as if she might break down. But Rhaenyra Targaryen is nothing if not resilient. She takes a deep breath and straightens her shoulders, the mask slipping back into place. "We must be strong," she says, though you can hear the strain in her voice. "For the realm."

You nod, understanding the weight of her words. "For the realm." You echo, though in your heart, it is for her that you would do anything.

The days pass in a blur of duties and stolen moments. You do your best to be a comfort to her, to remind her of the warmth and love that still exists in the world, even in the shadow of Dragonstone. It is a delicate balance, keeping your relationship hidden from prying eyes while giving her the solace she so desperately needs.

One night, as you help her prepare for bed, she turns to you with a look of determination. "I need to feel alive again." She says, her voice trembling with emotion. "Will you help me?"

You nod, your heart pounding. "Always." You whisper.

She leads you to the bed, her hands shaking slightly as she begins to undress. You follow her lead, your own nerves taut with anticipation and fear. This is different from the secret moments you've shared before. There is a desperation in her touch, a need to forget the pain if only for a little while.

As you lie together in the dim light of the chamber, you hold her close, your bodies entwined. Her tears dampen your skin, and you kiss them away, each touch a silent promise of love and loyalty. In the darkness, the walls of Dragonstone seem to fade, leaving just the two of you in a world of your own making.

Afterward, you lie together, her head resting on your chest. The storm outside rages on, but here, in this moment, there is a fragile peace. "Thank you." She whispers, her voice breaking. "For being here. For loving me."

You kiss the top of her head, your own tears mingling with hers. "Always." You repeat, the word a vow.

But peace in Dragonstone is fleeting. The next day brings more bad news, more reasons for Rhaenyra to steel herself against the world. You stand by her side, offering what comfort you can, but the shadows are ever present, threatening to consume you both.

One evening, as you sit together in front of the hearth, she takes your hand in hers. "I fear I will lose you too." She admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

You squeeze her hand, your heart aching with the weight of her fears. "I am not going anywhere." You promise. "No matter what happens, I will be by your side."

She looks at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of hope and sorrow. "Promise me." She says, her voice trembling. "Promise me that you will stay."

"I promise." You say, the words a binding oath. "I will never leave you."

The days grow shorter, and the nights colder, as the weight of the realm's troubles presses down on you both. But through it all, you hold onto each other, finding strength in the love that binds you.

One night, as the storm outside rages, you wake to find Rhaenyra standing by the window, her silhouette a dark shadow against the flickering light of the fire. You rise and go to her, wrapping your arms around her waist. She leans into you, her body trembling with unspoken fears.

"We will get through this." You whisper, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "Together."

She turns in your arms, her eyes searching yours. "I do not know what I would do without you." She admits, her voice breaking.

"You will never have to find out." You say, your voice firm with conviction. "I am yours, Rhaenyra. Now and always."

She kisses you then, a desperate, searching kiss that speaks of all the things words cannot express. You hold her close, pouring all your love and devotion into that kiss, hoping to banish the darkness that surrounds you both.

As the storm rages on, you make love again, finding solace in each other's arms. In the heat of your passion, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you, bound together by love and necessity.

In the aftermath, as you lie together, spent and sated, she turns to you, her eyes soft with affection. "Thank you." She whispers, her voice thick with emotion. "For everything."

You smile, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Always." You say, the word a promise and a vow.

The storms of Dragonstone may rage on, and the shadows may threaten to consume you, but in each other, you find the strength to carry on. Together, you face the darkness, knowing that your love is a light that will never be extinguished.

And in the end, that is enough.

[meowpupp]

could you write hybrid!soap unintentionally being really rough with reader coz he’s so horny please :)

link to og post

tw://dry humping, mentions of denial, "just the tip" trope, hybrid smut, overstim, manhandling, bad editing (by now its my brand)

pup!johnny, who's pent up. his cock aches and throbs from being edged and denied so often, craving the soft, tight walls of your cunt.

it's agonising, the constant dull throb and ache. his skin is sensitive and hot, even just putting a hand on his shoulder makes his dick hard. he can't help it, flushed tip leaking thick drops of pre, staining his boxers as he tries not to moan.

he spends hours rutting against whatever he can find. pillows, blankets, simons boot. but his owner never lets him cum, pushing johnny off the second he gets close.

it's only a matter of time before he snaps. he tried, he did, but the sight of you in those little pj shorts was too much. he has you pinned on the mattress within an instant, growling into your ear.

big, calloused hands force your thighs apart. he cant help himself, rutting his hips against yours, panting into your neck. the friction makes his head spin, cock throbbing in his boxers, almost on the verge of cumming already.

he sounds frantic, a little pathetic as he whines in your ear, begging you like a good boy for just a taste of your pretty cunt.

"m sorry pup, just- fuck, need you s'bad. just be good for me, yeah? be good f'me like you are f'price. I'll make you feel s'good I swear, please, fuckin need you."

his hands reach down, gripping your body a little too tight as he rips away your shorts. the poor pup whimpers loudly, fearing any moment someone will force him away from you.

johnny practically goes feral at the little wet spot on your panties, whines only getting needier and more desperate. his hands shake, dick painfully hard as he pulls it out from his boxers. the tip is an angry red, and he's leaking so much pre he's practically cumming.

"please baby, just the tip, I'll jus' put in the tip." his hips thrust forward, spreading your pretty cunt around him, the friction from your panties making his head spin, "fuck, please puppy, need your cunt, just the tip, i promise."

he almost cums then and there when you agree. he's too lost in his haze to even think, leaving you to reach down, pull your panties aside, and line his tip up. he groans into your neck, body shuddering as he finally gets what he wants.

he tries to stay good on his promise, at first only thrusting the tip. but you just feel so good, gummy walls stretching around him, cunt wet and hot, your little whines and moans making him shudder.

it takes less than a minute for him to break. he forces his whole length into you, his dick stretching you to your limits. his hips bruise your ass with each thrust, nails digging into the fat of your thighs. he can't shut up, speaking so fast you can barely tell what he's saying.

"fuckin hell, god, you feel s'good. such a good girl, my pretty pup. you were made for me, yeah? little cunt sucking in my cock like that, fuck."

it takes less than 5 minutes for him to cum. he holds you down, forcing you flat to the mattress. he buries himself as deep as possible, stuffing your sore cunt full.

but johnny doesn't stop, cock still rock hard. he pulls out, hands gripping your waist as he flips you over. a hand tangles in your hair, the other gripping your ass. within seconds he's buried deep again, each harsh thrust pushing his last load.

he ignores all your pretty whines, body squirming as you almost start to cry. your poor cunt hurts, bullied ruthlessly by him. he shoves your face into the pillows letting out a deep growl as he leans over you.

"told you bonnie, be good. just let me use your little cunt," he presses down, forcing you to arch his back. he fucks you deeper with the new angle, smirking as you gasp, "there ya go, feels good yeah? fuckin hell, bon."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You've had a crush on your best friend for years, but you're slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: nice to see ya again!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Thor makes himself as permanent as the layers of sediment. Whether you’re in the dirt or looking over the charts and maps, making notes or sorting through your findings, he appears. Knowing he’ll be there keeps you coming yourself. Despite the short nights and long drives, thinking of him finding an empty site deters you from a day off, even against Sam’s pleas. 

The night before was filled with similar chiding from your friend. Sam is as persistent as ever. He always has a new account of his antics with Bucky and never forgets to tell you to take a break. You can’t stop though. You know if you do, you’ll have to think about everything you’re denying. 

The time away has given you time to breathe but it’s suffocated you in new ways. Along with that weight on your chest that has a name, there’s another you can’t quite understand. The one that sees you spending your spare hours alone and your working hours longing for anything but. You’re desperate to get out but terrified of the very same. 

When he arrives that day, you’re ready to give up. The tension in the air is giving you a headache and the dampness makes your skin feel sticky. You just feel gross. 

“Ah, I didn’t think you’d brave the weather today,” he muses as Thunder hops around his feet. You don’t look up, in a mood as grim as the sky. “You’d do well to stay in tomorrow. Trust me.” 

He’s always right about the weather. It must be the familiarity and yet it’s almost eerie how accurate he is. You might take his advice. You don’t like being wet and you’re starting to go cross-eyed from the hours and hours of concentration. 

Thunder yipes as you use your gloves to brush away clumps of dirt. Thor’s footsteps mulch patches of grass that sparsely carpet the dirt. He hums as his shadows looms in your peripheral. 

“Yes, my darling, I believe you’ve found the perfect spot,” he praises. 

You look over curiously. What is he talking about? You only notice then that he has more than the tiny dog with him. He has a basket on his elbow and a blanket under his arm. You sit up and watch him place down the former and shake out the latter.  

He spreads the blanket over the dirt and Thunder jumps onto it, rolling around on the fabric, digging her nose into the patched quilt as she wiggles across it. You clap off your hands and watch him as he gets down to his knees and flips open one side of the basket. He lays out several containers and two thermos’; one is the very same he brought you tea in.  

“I thought you could use a nice lunch before the weather turns,” he stands and nears the fence, “summer doesn’t last long here. You may as well enjoy it.” 

“Lunch?” You utter. 

“Brunch?” He suggest coyly. “Surely you can take a break. You are only human, you need to eat.” 

“You...” you lean to see around him, “you brought me lunch?” 

“I know it isn’t the most elaborate picnic but I thought it might be a pleasant surprise. I must confess I’ve been rather bored these days,” he admits, “so?” 

“Thor, that’s so... sweet,” you frown, “but...” 

“Work, work, work. Surely they can’t expect you to work yourself to the bone, pardon the pun,” he insists, “it will only be a bit.” 

“Yes, but...” you leave the sentence to hang. You don’t have a good excuse. You don’t know. It just makes you nervous. It’s a whole lot of effort for just you.  

“Oh, I don’t mind if you would rather stay over there. Only mean more for, eh, Thunder?” He asks the canine tramping around the blanket. “More than happy to sit here and enjoy my jelly cookies and hot coffee. 

“Coffee?” Your brows raise. 

“Freshly brewed. Promise, There’s nothing pickled. Though I don’t mind a nice herring,” he grins. 

Thunder bounces over and barks at you. She stands on her hind legs as she paws at the barrier between you. Now, how can you deny her? 

You stand and shed your gloves. You carry them over to the table beneath the tent and grab a wet wipe from the back. You come back under the open sky as you wipe your hands. 

“Sorry about all the dirt,” you scoff as you cross the dirt. 

“I don’t mind,” he assures you. He pulls apart the panels of the fence to let you through. It isn’t something you could ever forget but you can’t help but be stricken again by his sheer size. 

You bend to pet Thunder as she gets between your feet. She licks your fingers and you giggle. She’s cute. 

“Go on, pick her up,” Thor goads, “she loves it.” 

You scoop up the dog and stand. She squirms as she wags her tail incessantly. She swipes your chin with her tongue and you scrunch up your face. You carry her to the blanket and look over the spread. A leafy salad, pasta salad, sandwiches, cookies... There’s so much. Your protein bars and peanut butter and jelly can’t compare. 

“Oh gosh, this... a lot.” 

“Is it? Isn’t too much. We’re friends, yes?” 

“Friends?” You face him as you pet Thunder’s soft head. 

“Perhaps it is rather one-sided. You are obligated to be here, I just sort of haunt this place,” he chuckles. 

“No, no, friends,” you smile, “that sounds about right.” 

You turn away and lower yourself onto the blanket, sure to keep your boots off of it, as you hide your face. There’s a tinge of disappointment. You hear a far off echo in your head. How many times did Steve say the same; we’re friends, just friends, you’re such a good friend. Well, that’s all this is. No need to be so sensitive. 

“Do you ever take time off?” He asks as he gets to his knees. 

You look at him as you put Thunder down. He barely keeps her from chomping down on a rye crust. He lifts her easily and she kicks her legs. 

“Eh, you beast,” he points a finger at her snout, “be good.” 

He sets her back on her paws and she obeys. He tells her to sit and she does so. Her eyes continue to hungrily rove over the food. How can he resist them? 

“Like you said, the weather won’t last. Should get done what I can before the ground gets cold.” 

“Ah, yes, that is a concern,” he tuts, “how would you deal with that?” 

“Heat lamps, tiger torch... jackhammer if I really need but I’d have to put in a request for that...” you hadn’t thought too much into the inevitability of winter.  

“Ah, that’s...” he smirks, “I’m sorry but the idea of you with a jackhammer,” he snorts. 

“Hey,” you pout. 

“It isn’t to be mean but... you’re so gentle. When you dig, you’re so delicate about it.” 

“Am I?” You wonder. 

“Mm, is it a bit weird to say so?” He wonders aloud. “Yes, you are very precise, very cautious.” He takes out a set of plates and offers you one, “please, help yourself.” 

“It must be boring watching. Really, I’m the one digging and it gets dull,” you accept and pluck out one of the sandwiches. Salmon, you think. 

“You make it interesting,” he muses. “You talk to the bones.” 

“I talk to the bones?” You repeat, “what?” 

“Yes, I suppose you’re not aware of it. But your lips move when you’re focused. As if you’re chatting up the dirt,” he chuckles, “sometimes a few words do slip out.” 

“They do?” You blanch before you can help yourself to the salad. 

“You don’t say much. Usually something about the dishes, I’m not too sure.” 

“You never mentioned,” you look away shyly. 

“It’s... cute,” he shrugs. 

“You mean crazy,” you shake your head. 

“I say what I mean,” he counters. “No use in not. We can’t be happy if we’re not honest, not least of all with ourselves.” 

You’re quiet as you turn your attention to your plate. His words feel sharp despite his placid tone. You know it’s only because they’re true, especially for you. If you’d just accepted everything sooner, if you hadn’t been so dumb, if you hadn’t been so emotional, it would never have gotten so bad. No, if you’d just been honest. 

“I hope... I hope that didn’t come off wrong,” he says. 

“No, no, I’m... this all looks so good and I’m starving,” you assure him as you sit back with your plate. “Thank you again. This is... great.” 

“Well, I was thinking, you must miss your friends. I might be a paltry substitute but I thought i might fill that gap, even just for an hour.” 

“It’s really...” your eyes tingle but you push away the tinge of sadness, “it’s really nice.” 

“So tell me,” he scoops up salad onto his plate, “tell me about home.” 

“I...” you begin, surprised by the prompt. “It’s just home. New York. It’s busy and loud. Not like here.” 

“No, not that. Your friends. I want to know all about them. If I’m ever going to come up standards, I’ve got to know the competition.” 

You laugh. He speaks as if he needs to impress you. It’s nice to be somewhere where no one knows you’re not that special. You take a bite of the sandwich and chew, thinking out your question.  

You swallow, “well, my friend Sam, he calls every night to bitch at me. He’s great. Supportive but pushy. He likes to terrorise Bucky. He’s the strong and silent type, you know? Grumpy to boot but they’re... they’re awesome.” You smile without thinking, “before I left, they took me to this cocktail bar...” you blow out between your lips and roll your eyes, “real girly stuff.” 

“Ooh, cocktails. I’ve been known to indulge. I love finding new recipes.” 

“Really?” 

“Oh, yes, I love the sweet ones. I’ve only just perfected my blueberry basil concoction. I’m afraid I can’t share the secret ingredient unfortunately.” 

“Blueberry?” You ponder the flavour, “sounds yummy.” 

“Perhaps one day you can try it,” he suggest. 

“Maybe,” you say evasively. “Anyway, yeah, Sam and Bucky are... characters.” 

“They sound like it. How’d you meet?” 

“Oh, it’s boring. What about you?” 

“It’s not my turn,” he deflects, “tell me.” 

You don’t know why he cares. It’s as confounding as everything else about him. You still don’t get why he’s here watching you sit in the dirt. It sounds as grueling as watching a golfing tournament, in your opinion. Yet here he is, a man who looks like that, staring at you in your mud-stained khakis. 

“College. We met through a mutual friend,” you explain vaguely. 

“Ah, so you’ve been friends for some time. Yes, I see, I’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” he hums thoughtfully as he toys with the braid that hangs loose by his face, the rest of his hair twisted back as always. 

“Steve,” you say without thinking, your eyes drifting off into the distance, “he was my best friend. We met in art history. We spent almost every day together. Studying, whatever. He was more of a partier than me but... fifteen years, more than, and we saw each other...” You choke on your words and scoff darkly, “sorry, that’s... I’m homesick, I think.” 

You bat away the glaze in your eyes and focus on your food. You take a few bites as he sits quietly. Thunder stands up cautiously and crosses the blanket. She settles against your leg, leaning her head on your thigh. It’s comforting. 

“Yes, I think I would be very homesick as well. I lived in the city for a while but mother and father, they need me. And I love this mountain. It’s home. There was nothing in Oslo for me. I can work from here.” 

“Work? What exactly do you do?” You ask, happy to divert from your own painful past. “Oo, are you like a farmer? Or a shepherd. There must be sheep up here or something.” 

He laughs, “there are some sheep, yes, but those are protected by the government. We’ve not much of a choice where they settle. No, I’m not so savvy as all that.” 

“Hm, you... oh, what could do you here?” You look around, “on a mountain... oh, tours? Do you give tours?” 

He laughs, “it’s not a bad idea, but no. I’m a business owner.” 

“A business. You must sell fitness or something.” 

“Must I?” He narrows his eyes, “and what else do you assume about me?” 

“Oh, it’s only you’re so...” you cringe as you eke out the word, “big?” 

“Genetics,” he affirms, “not that but close, in a matter of looking at it. You recall that tea I brought you, with the cloudberry?” 

“Uh, yeah, it was sweet. Yummy.” 

“I’m happy you enjoyed it,” he smiles proudly, “I make superblends. All Nordic ingredients. There is a demand for wellness and organic products. I found the right niche and I’ve not done too badly.” 

“Must not if you can live all the way up here,” you remark. 

“Yes, but... it’s a reason I moved back. Business is a lonely venture. Now I’ve got it all figured out, I have my managers and my business plan, I break even, I realise how much I put to the side,” he mulls his sandwich and takes a glum bite. It’s the first time you’ve seen him anything but bright and beaming, “I feel like I’ve fallen behind. Like I’m playing catch up.” 

His words sink in and storm inside of you. You crunch on the crisp lettuce and gulp. You wipe your mouth with a napkin and clear your throat. 

“I know exactly what you mean,” you say breathily. 

“Do you? You’re out here, on an adventure all you’re own, how brave,” his voice is wistful and his gray blue eyes reminds you of the clouds above. 

“Yes, I know,” you say, “better than you. Trust me.” 

You smile, a bittersweet tug in your cheeks, and he stares back at you. Your eyes cling to each other and you feel as if the world is moving around you. He smiles and a glimmer of something unfurls in your chest. You make yourself look away. 

“Well,” you push the salad around your plate, “what about you? You must have friends, aside from the girl in the dirt.” 

He hums and scrapes up a bite of the pasta salad. He takes his time chewing before he answers. You scratch Thunder’s nose as she sniffs at your plate. 

“Yes, if you ever come to sample my cocktails, you might meet a few,” he coaxes, “I think you’d get along. Hogan and Vol, and Fandy. All good company. Sif’s not around so often when my brother’s around but he’s as fleeting as the sun.” He tuts, “I would call Loki a friend as well but he does scowl at the very thought.” 

“Loki?” 

“My brother of course,” he explains with , “yes, he is quite the dour one. He might get along with that Bucky.” 

[reverieblondie]

When things end too soon....

A/N: So I swear I saw a request for Rolan and some steamy premature ejaculation... But now I don't see it... so I'm posting these drabbles anyways!

I hope you enjoy these short little treats ♡₊˚

Warning 18+ MDNI, Fem!reader, (please forgive my blurry pictures!)

Rolan, Gale, Zevlor, and Aradin

Rolan

His gleaming eyes stay fixed on you from across the Inn. Everyone is in the swing of celebration, and though he has thanked you once already, he wants to do more. So, with a swig of the wine bottle, he tries to drink in some courage before he pushes off the last light bar and nervously makes his way to you. Of course, as soon as he approaches you, your lips are curling into the sweetest of smiles, your eyes drinking in his form as he stands tall before you. Rolan feels his face warming and his chest getting tighter as he stands so close to you now, but he swallows it down and puts up that arrogant facade with that confident smile thanking you again.

“You want to thank me again? You're not going to try and give me money again are you? I told you I don’t want that.”

“No, no, I just figured you and I could… share a drink somewhere… more private?” 

Rolan tries not to let his nervousness show or how his tail is twisting to betray him as you look him up and down in contemplation. Then you smile and lean in close.

“Lead the way…”

In the back of Last Light Inn, the normally quiet area filled with only the sound of the steady stream has new noises within its air. Hot breaths and the rustling of clothes married with muffled moans of two people getting lost in each other for the first time. Rolan couldn’t help but let your name fumble from his lips as you tangled your fingers through his chestnut hair and ran your tongue up the column of his throat. His tail is coiled tightly around your leg as you push him further against the Inn's wall. 

Gods he thought he would be the one to take the lead, to get you out here and sweep you up in a passionate kiss like in those romance covers. To lay you down upon the ground and show you how much he appreciates you, for you to be the one moaning his name as your body squirms and twitches in anticipation… but like you always manage to do, you don’t follow his plan, and you surprise him. 

Now, here you two are; the roles in his plan have been reversed and are only adding to his fantasy. You pinned his taller frame to the wall and leaned in to kiss him first, your hands doing quick work to explore him and make him even more hot and desperate for you. You managed to strip him down and lay him in the dirt before you joined him. You had made him whimper and pant as you slowly stripped before him, teasing him with how you ran your hands over your nipples down to your dripping cunt touching yourself in front of him. 

Rolan's throat was dry, and his aching cock throbbed as he watched you. Then, in an act of mercy, you sank down to your knees, crawling on top of him, positioning your wet sex over his swollen length, tempting him more with your wet heat so close to where he needed to feel you.

Instead of immediately sinking down and letting his ridged length push and stretch your insides, you just rubbed your slick over his cock. Teasing yourself on his hot ridges, you moved your hips over him so slowly, shuddering and gasping every time his curved tip nudged your clit, then the honeyed words came. 

“So good Rolan… You feel so good…” 

Rolan couldn’t help but moan and throb at your praise. His hands come to your hips to help you grind further. The sound of your heavenly breath and your hands bracing against his chest just further spurred him on as he rolled his hips in tandem with you. Then both of your resolves started to crumple…

“Ah- good boy Rolan… just like that… so good for me~” 

Rolans heart skipped and his hips rutted against your cunt in an erratic pace, he needed you closer, to drown himself in this moment. His heart raced, his breath getting shallower, and his cock throbbing at your praise. 

“Yeah? I’m good?” His eyes were hazy as he looked up to you. Those rings of gold stretched thin from how dilated they were. 

“Very good Rolan… The best.”

Gods, he wanted to slip it in and feel your cunt suck him in and clench on him like a vice… but when you looked into his eyes and smiled down at him, it all just snapped… and before he could take you, satisfy you, he was cumming in hot spurts all over his stomach. He couldn’t help but tremble and shake as you continued to grind and watch him come undone for you. Finally Rolan has to still your hips with a whine from his parted lips. You halt your grinding and take in the ruined wizard underneath you. 

Rolan's cheeks were so flushed, his nails digging into the ground as he stuttered soft apologies… he felt like such a disappointment for cumming too soon. Fuck he was supposed to thank you… but yet again, he just takes your kindness. Rolan averts his eyes in shame, but instead of criticizing him like he expected, you only smile as you gently move his jaw so his eyes are back to yours, your hand slipping down his neck to his flushed chest, down to his over-sensitive cock, rubbing your thumb over the tip making it twitch with a swell again…

“Rolan… you're so beautiful when you look like this… makes me want more…” 

Rolan smiled and nodded his head breathlessly as you began to adjust his cock, softly pumping it till hard… then lining him up to your tight entrance… “Anything you want…”

Gale

He commented on your smell…why the hell would he comment on your smell… he had honestly meant it in a positive way, but of course, in his ramblings, that fact got lost…he needs to make this right, smooth this over with you, the last thing Gale wants is for you to think he doesn't find you or your musk unpleasurable. In fact, if allowed, he's sure he would indulge himself in it… though perhaps he will keep that to the chest for now. Gale had inquired about your whereabouts from Karlach, who, of course, told him with a cheeky grin and pointed him towards the river, and so he made his way down to make a proper apology. 

Gale didn't mean to catch you while bathing, but he couldn't say it wasn't a pleasant surprise. Though always the gentleman, he covered his eyes as soon as he grasped his sense back from his lust filled brain. “Sorry to disturb you…” he said with both hands over his eyes, face down and bashful.

Gale's ears perk up when you giggle, “I’m not disturbed, just simply… washing up; care to join me?” 

Gale swallows, moving his hands down slowly to see you in the water, your body submerged to the shoulder, danm… wait, no!

“You wouldn't mind?” 

“I would love the company; being out here can be quite boring. So I wouldn't mind some conversation, maybe where we left off about my… what was it? Musk?” 

Well, of course he couldn't refuse your innocent request… Plus, this gives him the chance to clear the air. Though now it turns out that request wasn't so innocent… but he did finally get to tell you how much he enjoys your smell. 

It started friendly, exchanging flirty jokes and shy smiles, which turned into warm glances, which morphed into longing stares as you two inched closer and closer. Then you took the plunge and leaned into him. 

Gods, how long has it been?  He thought as his tongue sought yours to finally taste you. It had been so long since he kissed someone in the flesh, let alone touched someone… and your body… your soft skin and alluring smell… just made him fall further into you. Then you started to touch him. And that was simply divine. 

First, it was your hands on the nape of his neck going down to his shoulders, then his chest, then further still… Gale moaned into your lips as your touch washed over him. You made him feel so precious, so desired, then before Gale could make sense of it, he's breaking the kiss and wrapping your legs around his hips. That's when you felt his cock, hard and eagerly pushing against you as he drove his nose into your hair and grabbed the plump of your ass harder… desperate to hang onto this moment of bliss. This small moment is just for you two, alone at last, and letting everything wash over you two. 

Then your hand moves down past his coarse hairs and wraps around his cock. Gale had to hold his tongue and his body still as you began pumping his cock so agonizingly slow… Gale gasps, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he shudders from the feel of your hand sliding over his length, your pace getting faster and faster, tracing over every vein, moaning in his ear as his heart rate picks up. 

“I want to feel you, Gale… every inch…” 

Gale loses himself, his mind going to the sweet thoughts of you finally wrapping around him, the noise you will make, the clenching of your cunt so tight… to feel your warmth… so snug and all for him… gale can’t help himself, digging his blunt nails into your ass as his hips start to rut matching your pace, so ready to stick it in and have your moaning into the endlessly starry sky. But before such a picture can be painted, Gale feels his mind numb, and his body suddenly shudders with a groan he tries to bite back. -Danmit… 

“Apologies… I didn’t… it's been…so long since I’ve… well, since I’ve held anyone much less-.” You silence him with a kiss, your tongue pushing past his parted hips and twisting his wet hair around your fingers, pulling him in closer… making him so much more infatuated… 

“We can pick this up in my tent, deal?” another one of your sweet requests he would be a fool to refuse. 

Zevlor 

Zevlor felt so awkward at the party; in his youth, he always joined in the celebration with dancing and drinking, and though he was no bard, he did have some talent when it came to strumming a lute. Though… At his age now, he thought it was better to observe rather than join the mayhem of a celebration. Zevlor was used to becoming a silent observer the more he did it. All he ever seems to do now is watch over others as they live. A Lot of times, his observations would just lead to him being bored and roaming back to somewhere quiet, but tonight, his sights are on you… 

He didn't mean to stare at you… but you are just so captivating, swaying with the music, drinking cheers with your commerads and talking to his kin with a kind smile…. Truly so captivating…he thinks as he keeps his eyes steady on you as you dance with Shadowheart. If it had been in his youth, he would have sauntered over and danced with you, spinning you around so close so you could feel the heat of his body, to squeeze your soft skin so gently… just to touch you, smell you… Taste you.  

Lost in his reverie, he doesn't notice when you wave bye to Shadowheart and walk over to where he sits at the edge of your camp. Only when you're blooping down beside him does he snap out of his running thoughts and look over to your smiling face so close and your bright eyes on his. Captivating… 

“Gold piece for your thoughts?” 

Zevlor stifles a laugh before drinking… if only you knew the perverted place his mind was mere moments ago…

“Ah, Don’t waste your gold. You shouldn't waste your celebration listening to an old man like me ramble; you should be out talking to those so eager for your attention.” 

Your face slightly falls, “well, I came seeking yours…” 

Zevlor feels his whole body flush. " No-no… I mean.” Zevlor swallows; he hasn't stuttered like this since his days as a new recruit. He turns to you and gently places his hand on yours, his eyes locked to yours, ready to take a chance and bring back that once unwavering courage…. “Do you know what those words spur within me? What you do to me?”

You light up at those words and twist your legs so they are against his, “I'm hoping it's the same as what seeing you does to me…”

Zevlor feels his heartbeat thrum and feels like he just can’t quite catch his breath. You grab his hand tighter, tracing your finger over the protruding veins on his crimson skin.

“Will you follow me?” 

Of course, he followed you… he just didn’t think it would have led to this… to you taking his hand in yours as you walk into your isolated tent. Now, here he is, taking a shuddering breath as your peppering kisses along his strong jaw and your hands push down his trousers in inpatient enthusiasm. It's been so long since someone has wanted him so feverishly… and he refuses to disappoint you. 

With his pants pushed down past his knees his cock hard and pebbling slaps heavy against you as you start to grind yourself against him. Zevlors eyes roll in bliss as the feeling of your sticky slick coating his cock. Then your soft hands hold onto his shoulders as you bring your lips to his ear, “Fuck me…please Zevlor…” 

Zevlors eyes roll as your tongue starts to roll over his ear. Gods, now you're begging so sweetly beneath him… your body so flushed, your hot little tongue running over him down to his neck. He tries to keep in the growling groan you're causing him as your slick coats him, but when you start leaving sloppy kisses on his neck with light nips… it just slips out of him, and to his delight, that just makes you wrap your legs around his waist and hold onto him tighter.

With the confidence boost, Zevlor smiles at the new possession, your body practically trembling for him. Zevlor lets his hands roam all over your curves, his cock throbbing as he tries to take this slow, to let you enjoy. But if he’s honest, he’s going mad, with your wet heat so close and drooling for him he just can’t help himself anymore and his calm demeanor slightly falters as he angles his hips and sinks into you with a quick snap of his hips. Your snug cunt is already quivering on his length in an instant, and it makes his eyes roll as he relishes feeling you so deep. 

Then in a lust-drunk haste, he starts fucking you, in and out, slapping against you as your hands bury themselves in his hair, holding tightly as his pace gets rougher and rougher. The head of his cock pushes against your cervix making your eyes water and toes curl. He just needs to make you cum then he can finish into your womb… fuck, he wants to feel you cum, and have you make a mess all over him. Zevlor is not sure why, but the idea of getting you to your pleasure makes him feel whole… useful… wanted…

Zevlor looks down at you, your body sweating, your chest bouncing, and your lips moaning his name, but the thing that makes his whole body shiver is your eyes… how they see him when so many overlook him, look past him… you see him.

Before he can think better to slow down, his nails are tearing into your bedroll, and he's rutting into your cunt like a damn animal. You whimper and moan with every thrust, trying so hard to hold onto him, digging your nails into his back, wrapping your legs around his hips. And that's the final straw… wrapping your shaking legs around him to let him sink deeper to keep him with you. Zevlor feels his mind blank and with a rough grunt and a tremble of his tail. He cums. 

Zevlor pauses, his breath ragged as he stares down at your surprised face… “I-I apologize… it's just..” then he feels your hips grinding up with a giddy smile on your face, “Fill me up again Zevlor, Please…”

Of course, whatever you desire…

Aradin 

You irritate him… granted, everyone in this damned grove seems to irritate him, but you? With your do-gooder attitude… always trying to be so helpful… it's infuriating. Then, anytime Aradins is around, you two are arguing! Your face stern as you stare up at him…. How close your body gets… so fucking close he could just grab you and shut you up. You would properly punch him before he even gets the chance to wrap his arms around your waist and silence you with a kiss… 

Even though you piss him off, he has to admit you are beautiful and have some fighting skills. Like when you saved his hide at the gate, you were so swift with a sword, and the way you just saved him and his crew, no questions, no second thought… he should have thanked you, not be such a smug bastard… why didn’t he thank you…

Now you have plagued him… he’s forced to sit in this damned grove and see you prancing about talking and helping everyone you see… he hates it, how selfless you are, it’s stupid… he wishes he could go up to you, and shake you, demand you be selfish and take care of yourself. Or let him join you and help you however you want. Damn it all… he can’t say that… he's too much of a coward… a prick you would rather see in the maul of a gnoll than in your camp or even your bedroll…

“Ariadin?” Suddenly, Aradin is broken from his thoughts by the sound of your voice. When he finally looks at you, you have a confused, maybe worried look on your face because, of course you do. 

He rolls his eyes, “What do you want?” Why is he already snapping at you?

Your face looks hurt at first, and his stomach starts to sink. Then your brow furrows. Before he can say anything, a loaf of bread smacks him in the face. He catches it and looks at you confused. “We found some extra rations, and I haven't seen you eat with the others… but forget it… just take it.” 

You start walking off.  Aridan runs his hand over his head in frustration as he holds the bread tightly. Why is he such an idiot? Aridan looks at your fleeing figure, and before he knows it, he slams the bread down on the table and follows you. 

Your argument ended up with you two screaming at each other in the woods deep within the woods. He had wanted to apologize to just talk, but you were so hard-headed… Why couldn’t you just let him apologize? Why couldn’t he just tell you how he really felt? Why is this all so fucked!  

With a groan and a roll of his eyes, Araidan finally cracks, “Oh fuck this!” 

“Fuck this?  You-” Before you can finish, Aridan is grabbing your waist and pulling you close, his lips crashing to yours in desperate hunger. But instead of pushing away and kicking his ass… you're leaning in and burying your fingers into his brown curls. Passion has taken over, and as he slides his tongue past your lips, finally sliding against yours, he's so grateful to hear your soft moaning that he quickly devours. 

Aradin leans you blindly back till you're suddenly being pushed against a tree, your soft little hum from the collision making his cock get stiff. This is better than any of his fantasies he would imagine late at night in his tent as he emptied his cock into his callus hand. You taste better than anything he could have ever wanted… and he craves more. Hiking up your leg, he grabs handfuls of your ass, his cock painfully hard as he grinds his clothed length against your clothed cunt. 

“You drive me up…a fucking wall…” Aradin pants as he sinks down to his knees rolling down your pants in the process before he's moving your leg over his shoulder and is licking a long stripe up your slick cunt. As soon as he hears your shuddering yeses and your hand is tugging for more, he smiles, more than willing to give you as much as you can take. Ariden brings his rough hands to caress your hips as he dips in further, fucking you with his tongue while his nose drivings into your clit just to make you squeal. Ariden groans into you and takes deep whiffs of your sex, making his cock throb and his eyes roll. A fuckin dream is what you are above him like this… gods let him join your camp, and he will do this for you every night; he doesn’t see those little posh boys you got doing this for you…. He will eat you out all night if you're willing. All you gotta do is drop your trousers, and he will be on his knees for you. 

As Aradin continues to eat you like a starved man, you start to lose yourself on his face, pulling his hair hard and rolling your hips faster on his face. Gasping and screaming for more... It's the first time he’s seen you be selfish, and it's all for him. Gods, for how you're quivering on him. He knows you're close, so close to making a mess out of him. Gods please let you squirt and let him drink it in… please, Please!

It's all too much, all too good, and just like everything else in his life, the gods seem to be against him. With a sudden shudder and a groan, his hard cock is cumming in thick spurts in his pants from your taste alone. Aradins breath is ragged as he pulls away from you; he feels his face impossibly flushed as your slick covers his mouth and chin… he had wanted to do more… go further and make you cum…but no…he’s fucked up with you again by cumming in his pants…fuck!

Then suddenly his face is getting lifted up and he’s looking at your smirking face, he grimaces unsure of what you will do next but that's when you surprise him, “Clean yourself up and meet me back here tonight… I’m not done with you yet.” 

Aridan looks up at you with a slack jawed expression as you redo your pants and give him a chaste kiss swiping your tongue over his lips stealing a taste of your arousal before walking off. 

“I…I will…” he finally musters. He can’t mess this up, he won’t mess this up. 

[applecrispy]

Oct. 2 ; Begging

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Male! Reader x Finnick Odair (The Hunger Games)

HEADS UP!

Second Kinktober prompt, set! Enjoy this drabble

Ended up being a bit sweeter and not too 'begging' as the prompt said, but hey! There's always another chance to re-write this after kinktober!

Also, ignore the fact I haven't posted day one yet ajdhkcjks I'll probably post it later since I'm a tad stuck on it.

And how out of practice I am in writing- but I swear, all my thirsts will (hopefully) get better overtime!

▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ █ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▃ ▂

Finnick moans, his hands claw at the kitchen counter top as his boyfriend pounds into him from behind. He aches a bit, but god it's amazing and worth it all.

He had teased (Y/n) earlier today, he was in the mood, and seems like (Y/n) was as well after having Finnick drop to his knees and suck him off from under their dinning table. He wouldn't admit it straight up, but Finnick has been itching for his lover's touch since a few days ago when (Y/n) had returned from his trip to District 13 to check in. The kiss they shared at the station, Finnick liked it a bit too much, maybe he missed (Y/n)'s lips against his, the gentle touch on his sides, how he didn’t push him-

"(Y/n)- baby, fuck!" Finnick chokes out, another moan leaving him.

His chest felt cold from being pressed against their marble counter, but (Y/n) simply continued to piston into him. A hand gently holding his thigh up to the side, granting him a new angle, and Finnick felt his legs shake, and at some point he's pinned to the counter. He can barely keep himself up on the floor, and (Y/n) seems to notice because Finnick yelps briefly as he's flipped over and he's now with his back to the counter, staring up at (Y/n) as he hikes his legs up. Now presented with a canvas, Finnick reaches up and wraps his arms around his boyfriend's back, moaning as he tries to bite the noises back by biting his bottom lip.

His hair is disheveled, messy, and not in the usual styled and seductive manner that his ex-stylists used to fix it into, but rather into something raw and honest. His fingers draw down (Y/n)'s back as he shudders and soon sputters on a noise and breath.

"Another- inside, please-" Finnick begs quietly, he doesn’t care how he aches faintly from the past three orgasms he's already had which have stolen all the air from him, he needs another load inside of him. One more.

(Y/n) smiles slightly, both love and pure unadulterated adoration, and he leans down to groan into Finnick's ear "You want another inside? And here I was thinking of pulling out and finishing all over your thighs instead... why so desperate?" He teases, and Finnick scoffs as much as he can before he breaks into a choppy whimper mixed with a moan "I- Oh right there... There! Nail right there!" He can't help but purr out, and when (Y/n)'s thrusts slow and intentionally miss, Finnick is digging his face involuntarily into (Y/n)'s neck "Please- please please... So good, please, inside. Another, right... right tHE-" his words are cut off and hit a high as he throws his head back, and if it weren't for the gentle hand on the back fo his head that stops the movement by catching his head and curling a hand into his hair, Finnick would've slammed his head open. But he's too lost to properly adore the action, instead he only lets out a heavy, and noisey high pitched moan.

(Y/n) had shifted his thrusts, and was now thoroughly fucking into him, right into his prostate as he had asked, and the tease just chuckles breathily.

"There?"

"Yes... Yes! Please inside, inside." His last few words mold into messy shapes and noises, still coherent in a sense, but debaunched with his ecstasy. He lets out another softer whimper, and Finnick swears this man is the only one who has been able to reduce him to these honest words, begs, and noises. He's a mess, but shit it's so nice.

It doesn't take too much longer, and (Y/n) gives a small tug to Finnick's hair, reeling his mind back to quickly ask for honest confirmation "Inside?" And Finnick can't help how he begs.

"YES! Inside, inside, please- please (Y/n), need it. Please, need to feel it, feel you-" and Finnick is cut off with a yelp and moan as his hips are grabbed and he's pulled down to be plush against (Y/n)'s hips. He shudders as a weak orgasm leaves him, untouched, oversensitive, and the feeling of being filled and pumped with a orgasm once more in him, Finnick lets the fingers he hadn’t noticed that dug down (Y/n)'s back fall lax.

He lets his expression drop, content as he bathes in the after glow, breathing in heavily as he lets out weak little noises. He gently holds onto (Y/n) as his partner seems just as breathless as he is, pulling back to smile down at him as Finnick feels his heart briefly flutter at how he looks at him.

"Seems like you've missed me." And Finnick groans in complaint and jokingly tries to shove (Y/n) away with a little tired grin on his own face "Oh piss off!" He scoffs out a playful laugh despite how breathless it sounds, quickly diving in to kiss (Y/n) once more in something sweeter.

Yeah, he had missed him.

[reidtina]

Mr. President

Pairing: jack schlossberg x fem!reader

Content warning: +18 MDI semi-public sex (I think it's considered), oral sex (reader receiving), pet name calling (honey, darling, baby, babe), vaginal fingering, orgasm, office sex, smut, mentions of sex, established relationship, I think that's it

Word count: 1.9k

Summary: Jack Kennedy Schlossberg is the grandson of the Former President John F. Kennedy, and now he's the one to assume the role of president of the USA, he's a serious politician, but when it comes to his girlfriend Y/N, he's also a little horny, which sometimes leads to situations like eating her pussy in his office at the white house.

A/n: i wrote it because I didnt find many fics of him, but it's my first ever, I posted it on ao3 too

You’ve been dating Jack for over 3 years now, you lived in New York City, and since he moved to the White House in Washington you didn’t get to see each other as often as you’d want, but you had a few free days this week, so you decided to spend them in DC with him. The guards already knew you, so they let you in and you went straight to your boyfriend’s office on the west wing.

When he hears your knock on the door, he yells a little “come on in” and as you open the door, he looks up from the paperwork he was doing and smiles at you.

“Hey, darling” he says standing up from his chair and making his way to you and wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. “I’ve missed you” he sighs, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I’ve missed you too, babe, I wish we could spend more time together” you say

“I know” he replies, sliding his hands to your hips, pulling you over to sit down on the edge of his desk. “But I want to make up for the lost time” he stands between your legs, running his hands up and down your thighs. “I was about to go crazy having to work without seeing you all day” he says kissing your neck. His fingers move just under the hem of the tight black dress you are wearing.

“God, how I love this dress” he mumbles, his hands moving from your hips to slowly run up and down your back, feeling the soft lace on your skin through the fabric.

“Does that mean you don’t want to take it off?” you ask in a teasingly tone with a grin on your face.

He chuckles and is fast to reply “Oh, no, honey, I may love it, but there’s nothing you can wear that I’d like more than the sight of your bare skin”. He bites your shoulder lightly and runs his tongue over the spot he just bit.

Jack nips at your neck, planting a trail of kisses all the way down from your neck to your collarbone. “It’s not even fair how beautiful you are” he mumbles against your skin, his large, warm hands sliding under the dress to grab your thighs. He pulls back to look at you and his eyes roam your body, admiring every curve and dip of your figure under the form-fitting dress. “God, I need you” he groans.

“You have me, I’m yours” you say looking deep into his eyes and your hand cupping his face, pulling him in for a kiss.

When you break the kiss, he says “No, I need you right now” gripping at your waist to pull your body closer to his, pressing his hips into yours. His eyes are darkened with lust, his breathing heavy. “Can you lock the door?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly.

You get up from the desk and make your way to the door and while he closes the curtains you turn the key on the door, locking it and as soon as he hears the click of the door locking echoing through the office and you go back to where he’s standing, he pounces. He grabs your hips again and pins you to the edge of his desk, his mouth crashing into yours in a messy kiss. The kiss is hot, desperate, his tongue invades your mouth, tangling with yours.

“Hooking up with the president in the white house, that’s kinky” you mutter through the kiss, running one hand through his hair and the other lightly scratching his chest. “God, that mouth of yours” he mutters back, then running his tongue slowly over yours, before pulling away slightly. “Maybe I’ll have to put it to good use for me” he says, nipping your bottom lip and pinning you harder to the desk with his hips. His hands grip your thighs, slowly sliding up your dress. He plants a trail of kisses down your neck, biting softly at the skin, his warm breath fanning across your chest through the fabric of your dress. His hands continue to slide up your thighs, and he moves to push your legs apart.

He lifts you up and sets you gently on the desk, his body now between your legs, his lips are on your neck, slowly sucking in the soft skin and marking you as his own. His hands are on your hips, holding you against him as he continues to kiss and bite every bit of skin he can find, sometimes getting a moan out of you.

“God, you’re delicious” he mutters against your skin, his hands moving to your thighs as he pushes your dress up, slowly running his hands up your bare legs, his lips find their way to your collarbone, and he kisses, nips and sucks, masking your skin as he goes. “So soft” he breaths heavily, placing a kiss right over your chest before moving down to your bare thighs, his hands grip on them, as he slowly spread your legs wider “I need more” he groans and you moan to the feeling of his mouth on your thighs. “Take it” you say softly and low.

His lips move to your knee, where he bites down gently “Careful what you say to me” he mutters, his hands slowly tracing up your inner thigh “I’ll take everything I can”, his words send shivers up your spine. “It’s yours to take” you whisper as he pushes your legs open even further, biting gently at your inner thigh, his lips moving over your skin “you’re mine” he says, his hot breath washing over you. “I am” you confirm, nodding and caressing his hair as his lips find their way higher and higher, until you feel them press against your core through your underwear, he gently bites and sucks at the skin and then pauses to say: “and no one else’s”

“No one else’s, only yours” you confirm again, eager to feel his mouth on your skin again and then his tongue darts out, licking over the fabric of your underwear once again. He looks up at you through black eyelashes and whispers “I’m going to show you exactly who you belong to”, his fingers running over the lace of your panties. “Show me, babe” you ask.

He grins at you, and in one swift movement, he hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls the lace off, tossing them somewhere on the floor, before quickly getting back on his knees in front of you. He runs his hands up your legs again, his fingers slowly running over the sensitive skin of your center. “I’m gonna make you say my name” he says in a seductive tone. “Oh, fuck” you let out a moan when one of his fingers enters you.

He moves his other hand up to grip your thigh, pulling you closer to him “That’s not it, darling” he teases, his breath hot on your skin and now two fingers moving inside of you. “Say it” he demands, his lips trailing up your thighs, moving closer to where his fingers are, his lips move up and down, not quite where you need them yet. “Jack, please” you beg, your voice shaking in lust and need. He runs his tongue over the sensitive skin of your thighs, teasing you “please what, honey?” he asks, looking up at you, his brown eyes darkened with lust, burning through your skin. “Please eat my pussy” you ask, barely able to let out the words through your desperation. “That’s all you had to say, darling” he mutters, and wasting no more time his tongue dives into you, his mouth and fingers working over you. He sucks and licks at your skin, tasting every bit of you as he devours you, his tongue moves rapidly.

He pulls back for a moment, running his tongue over his lips, the corners of which turn up in a sly grin “I’ve been wanting this all that, baby” he says and you grin down at him and teasingly say “You love the way I taste, don’t you?” He hums against you, his tongue running up and down again “Yeah, I do. I’m addicted to you” he says, his eyes flickering up, watching your facial expressions, admiring your moans and the way you tilt your head back in pleasure, loving every second of it. “You know I love when you sound like that” he mutters, his eyes never leaving you. “Jack” you moan his name, the sound of it sending blood down his cock, he loves the sounds you make, loves the fact that he’s able to get you this worked up “Say it again” he asks and you obey, moaning his name again as you bite your lower lip “I’m almost cumming, Jack” you groan. “Yeah, baby?” he smirks onto your skin, keeping his fingers movements at the same pace and asks you “Tell me what you want”

“Just keep doing it like this” you say grabbing his hair and he groans against you, loving the feeling of your fingers in his hair, he obliges, continuing to move his tongue and fingers in just the way he knows you love. “Just like this, baby? You like that”

“Uhm, yeah, just like that” you moan, his mouth working to get you just where you need to be, you feel your legs shaking and your breath getting heavier when you finally cum on his fingers and mouth, he laps up your release, pulling out his fingers and running his tongue over your core and sucking his fingers before standing up and grabbing you to hold your body against his. He kisses you, giving you a taste of your own pussy, “You’re so perfect” he says, cupping your face and holding your body against his. “I love you, Jack” you reply, he smiles, a soft, love-filled smile as he lifts you into his arms and walks over to his chair, sitting down and pulling your body into his lap, he wraps his arms around your waist, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck and whispers “I love you too, y/n”

“Where are my panties? I can’t be caught sitting here on your lap wearing nothing but a dress” you say and he grins against your skin “They’re on the floor somewhere, let’s hope no one walks in” he says, pressing a gentle kiss on your neck and running one hand up and down your bare leg. “Let me just grab them” you ask, grinning too and attempting to stand up, but he holds you in his lap “Oh, no, you’re not going anywhere, not when you’re sitting on my lap with nothing but a dress”.

You chuckle and say “You’re so naughty, Mr. President”, he grins and says “Only for you, you menace. You make it so easy when you wear a dress like this”. So you tease him and say “Even easier when I don’t wear anything”. He groans and bites your neck “Don’t tease me like this, you know I’ll have you again” he says, running his hands on your bare thighs. “I’d be happy to let you have me as many times as you want to” you say, smirking. “I need to go through a few meetings and then I’ll take you back to my room” he promises, making even more eager to have him all to yourself all night long. “I can’t wait for that” you grin.

“Oh, I have so many ideas” he says, his lips moving to your shoulder “and you’ll have to follow every single one of them” he teasingly whispers, nipping at your skin and making you smile to the thought of the night you’ll have.

[deputy-videogamer]

Hello Dear, 

I hope this message finds you well. I am writing to you, urgently pleading for your help. I appeal to your mercy and humanity to help us. Please don’t be surprised when I say that you, yourself, are my hope—the hope that can bring life back to me and my children. As you read this message, my family and I are hungry, thirsty, and terrified. We are homeless, depressed, and feeling hopeless. To be honest with you, I can endure famine, thirst, and homelessness, but I cannot bear the thought of watching my children die from starvation. 

I am a father of three children, striving alongside my wife to secure a decent life for them. After October 7th, our lives took a drastic turn with the onset of the cruel war on Gaza. Tragically, everything we owned was lost when our home and business were bombed and destroyed. We are now enduring a slow death, living a devastating life in Gaza. 

I am reaching out to you after exhausting all other options that could keep us alive. The basic needs of living and the harsh circumstances we are enduring have forced me to write this letter and extend a hand for help. I believe that your generosity and kindness can make a huge difference in our lives and give us the hope we so desperately need. 

In response to our dire circumstances, I have created a campaign to help my family rebuild our lives and meet our basic needs for food, water, and other essentials in these harsh conditions. My previous campaign, “tahseengaza,” was terminated, but my new campaign has been vetted by @olagaza, @90-ghost, & @northgazaupdates.  

All I ask is that you reblog the pinned post on my page and donate if you can. Your support would mean the world to us. Please consider visiting my GoFundMe page at https://www.gofundme.com/f/tahseen-family-from-gaza-not-to-feel-hungry By donating and sharing, you are helping me, my wife, and our three children survive the ravages of famine and genocide. You are giving us hope to rebuild our home and reclaim a life that was stolen from us. 

I would also greatly appreciate it if you could follow me to stay updated on our situation. I eagerly await your response and thank you in advance for your kindness and support. 

With deepest gratitude,  Tahseen 

Tahseen's campaign has made over $13,000! He is almost halfway way there to reach his goal! He just needs about $11,000 more.

Please continue to donate and share his campaign.

Vetted

[neuvistar]

I'm IN LOVE with your jingren x reader post like my toes be curling while my heart be fluttering GOSH.

Can I request blade doing the unspeakable with us then getting caught by Jing Yuan but Jing decided he just wanted to watch blade fucking our minds out 🤭🤭🤭

WITNESS IT ALL!

— featuring ┊blade x f!reader x jing yuan

— warnings / content warnings ┊not proofread, kinda sloppy n messy, male masturbation (jing yuan), dirty talk, slight degradation, blade jus being a lil jerk, uhmm. slight choking? blade referred to as “ren” here, use of nicknames, bladie being rough w u i think, overall suggestive content | 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

— a/n ┊MM IM SO SORRY 4 THE LATE UPLOAD ANON! 😭😭 but YES YES i can imagine jing yuan keepin it low at first as he watches blade fuck ur brains out, hand stroking his cock while he watches ! this has been decaying in my drafts 4 so long i’m so sorry sweetheart i got back from a mini break >:>

“r-ren! s’ messy.. you already came too much already..!” you whined, pouting as your fingers desperately tugged at his hair, a groan erupting from his throat as he bit down on your shoulder to suppress his grunts, breathing heavily against your skin as he bit you hard enough to make your body jump. two. that was two, two orgasms. he came inside you the second time, biting his bottom lip at how tight you squeezed around his twitching cock.

“i thought i heard you say that you wanted to make it a third time, precious.” was all he whispered against you before shoving himself up deeper and deeper with each thrust, trapping his cum inside your drenched cunt as his fingers tightened around on your throat, watching as your expression switched to one with need. saliva spilled from the side of your mouth, eyes widened with surprise and lust as you whimpered at how rough he was with you, legs spasming around his waist. your boyfriend lightly choked you out, not wanting to go too overboard as his hand clasped around your mouth, watching your lewd expressions with a smirk. he knew he was stretching you over your limits, stretching out your poor pussy as well in the process. blade was hungry for you, pinning your wrists down over your head as his fingers intertwined with yours, licking his lips at how full you must’ve been, stuffing you with his cum as his cock bullied itself inside your hole with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, arching your back at how good it felt.

“that’s it, princess. you like it when i hit that sweetspot of yours? you like it when i use your body in such lewd ways like this, hm? you’re such a fucking whore, aren’t you.. but I'm not complaining now am i, my pretty girl?” he muttered lowly in your ear, biting down on your earlobe gently as he grabbed a fistful of your hair, pouring his tongue inside your mouth.

blade’s eyes widened in pleasure, eyes nearly rolling into his head as he found a new angle, frustratingly thrusting faster into your stuffed cunny. “i’m gonna cum a third time if you keep tightening around me so fucking nicely, pretty. fuck.. you love getting used as nothing but a fucktoy, hm? poor girl you are..” he caressed your cheek, planting a small kiss on your nose as she chuckled at how exhausted you were, sweat dripping all over your body. “you can't do anything but sit here and get fucked absolutely fucking raw, but you like that do you? i bet you fucking do.”

“ren.. ren! p-please..” you wrapped your arms around his neck, breathing against his neck as he hooked his arm under your knee, pushing it against your chest as he grunted at how tightly you were pulsing around him now, you were close. “c-can’t..”

“you can take it, stop whining pretty. quit lying to yourself, you know how much you love this as much as i do. fuckin’ slut for my cock you are..” his hips rolled against yours, a more rougher and quickened pace as he brought his voice down to a whisper, mumbling a few things in your ear. “think about it like this, angel. how embarrassing would it be if we both got caught, hm? how embarrassing would it be to have someone see me fucking you like this. how fucking embarrassing it would be if it was none other than the general himself, hm?”

unknowing to both of you, it seems blade already predicted that exact scenario. jing yuan stood outside of the room you both were in, pants slightly tugged down as his cock was relying on his fingers.. jerking off at the sight of blade fucking you roughly. the general knew it was wrong to stay here and just get off to this, but he couldn’t stop himself no matter how hard he tried to. jing yuan bit his lip, hissing at the discomfort of his erected cock.. he threw his head back at the thought of him fucking you dumb, he could do so much better than that criminal, he thought. no! she shouldn’t be thinking of that.. he shouldn’t! but.. he couldn’t stop. the white haired male glanced over his shoulder, stroking his cock at the same rhythm blade thrusted into you. the general couldn’t help but smile at how fucked out you were, looking over the door frame seeing just how lewd you looked right now.. the sounds you made, the faces he tried to take in of you almost came straight from a pornagraphic video.

a low chuckle left blade’s lips as he watched you squirming in his touch with your mouth slightly hung open as you tightened your grip around his neck.. never putting a stop to his sharp thrusts. “cmon be shy, precious. let me hear you..." blade’s cock twitched again, breath hitching. “cum for me, cmon pretty girl.. don't be scared.” jing yuan stroke his cock faster, he was getting close as well, his breath grew heavier and heavier by the second.

the bed creaked underneath, orgasm building up quickly inside of both you and blade and before you know it.. you were already tearing up. “r-ren!” a choked whimper was forced out of you, calling out blade’s name as he spilled his load inside of you again, your stomach bloating at how full he filled you up, legs shaking from your climax as jing yuan eyed you down from the outside, biting his lip at the sight of your cunt completely filled with blade’s cum, watching at how smoothly cum dripped from your hole once blade finally pulled out. unlucky for the general, the white haired male reached his high as well, releasing on the floor as he cursed at himself for making such a huge mess on the ground. your face scrunched at how your folds were coated with stickiness and white from your boyfriend.. staining the sheets. you gasped as blade plunged his fingers in your hole, breath hitching as he swiftly inserted his dripping cum back inside your hole.

blade then paused for a moment, a smirk crept up his pretty face as he glanced over his shoulder, eyeing the door frame. jing yuan’s heart skipped a beat.. almost seen by the other male as he sighed in relief. suddenly blade opened his mouth to speak, his voice dark yet so calm.

“mm.. it seems someone was there to witness it all as well, princess. i think he seemed to have enjoyed the little show we put up.”

shit. maybe he was seen after all.

[harryslittlefreakk]

to build a home

Summary: buzz cut!rry and y/n spend their first new year’s together after splitting up and they look back on happier times. inspired by the song!

Warnings: sad!rry 🥲 fluff, smut

A/n: a little new year’s drabble !! wishing everybody happiness and love for the year ahead 💖

you can join my general taglist here!

and find the rest of my writing here 🫶🏼 enjoy!

Harry had been here countless times before, though this was one of his first times as a guest. He reached inside his pocket for his keys instinctively, muscle memory from all the times he’d slumped through the door after a long day at work, all the times he’d stumbled inside with one hand wandering all over your body. But now he was standing on the doorstep, cold and nervous with one hand gripping onto a key ring that no longer held a key to your home.

He could hear the bustle of a party inside, the low beat of music echoing from the sound system he’d chosen. Every inch of the house, even from the outside, had traces of both you and him written into the walls. The only thing that was all you was the ‘for sale’ sign posted at the end of the driveway.

He remembered the day you’d spotted the house, the slim building covered in climbing wisteria, squealing from across the road as you pointed out the ‘for sale’ sign. You’d been walking back to the car after viewing a different house, desperately trying to find somewhere to make a home together. He’d called to enquire about the house as you stood there pinned to his side, imagining what you could do with all the different rooms. You’d moved in only a few months later, renovating the house together through the lonely months of the pandemic, spending your days covered in dust and paint but never feeling happier.

Harry bit the bullet and rang your doorbell, fingers clenched tightly around the neck of the bottle you bought. He watched for movement through the frosted door, shifting awkwardly as he ran a hand through what was left of his hair. He’d shaved it on a whim, too many rom-coms telling him you needed to do something drastic after a breakup, and since he already had tattoos, a haircut was the only possible solution.

“Hey, Harry,” you smiled, cheeks already stained pink from the alcohol. He knew you well enough to know you liked a few glasses while cooking, a final one as you finished setting up the drinks and nibbles, and a bottle or two as you danced with friends. You looked beautiful, one of his old band t-shirts tucked into a sparkly silver skirt, waved hair draped around your shoulders. Harry leaned in to give you a kiss on the cheek, holding out the champagne bottle in his hand with an awkward smile. “S’for you,” he told you, shuffling into the doorway. He kicked off his shoes, eyes glued to the floor as he followed you into the living room. Too uncomfortable to acknowledge that he knew this house like the back of his hand, somewhat too proud to remember all the times you’d snuggled together on the sofa his friends were now sitting on. You stopped suddenly, swivelling to look back at him with parted lips. “Your hair,” you gasped, instinctively reaching out a hand to touch it. It snapped back to your side, your heart in your throat as you apologised. “Sorry, I-”

“Just fancied a change,” Harry told you, rubbing his hand across the top. You plastered a grin back onto your face, turning back on your heel wordlessly as your friends stood to greet him. You’d decided to stay civil for them, for the sake of keeping the peace within the group you’d grown close to together throughout your years as a couple. You hadn’t ended on bad terms, merely a result of wanting different things from your life. Harry’s priority had always been his music, and as much as he loved you, you both knew he couldn’t resist the offer of a new tour or new shows halfway across the world. You wanted a family, your uninterrupted time together during the pandemic leaving you wanting more. He wanted a family too, but you knew the majority of the parenting would fall on you while he was out doing what he loved, and somewhat selfishly, that wasn’t the life you wanted. These were all things you’d known when your relationship became serious, but you’d foolishly believed he’d change. You never wanted to change him, never wanted to take away his love of performing, but you needed him to be more present. Sleeping on a tour bus and following your love around the world was fun, but it wasn’t a lifestyle you could keep up forever.

Harry gazed around the room as he spoke with Mitch and Sarah, a glass of whiskey cradled in his hands. It hadn’t changed at all since the morning he’d moved out, framed pictures of the two of you still littered across the shelves. His awards still sat on the bookcase, shiny and void of dust as if they were your prized possessions. It sent a chill through him, to be sat here smiling in the house he’d bought for you, unchanged except for the lack of him. He was heartbroken and yet relieved when you told him you wanted to sell the house, the idea of different men one day sleeping in his bed too much to bear. He stood up suddenly, excusing himself from the conversation and padded over towards the back door, fingers tracing across the edge of the dining table as he walked through. You watched him go, slipping away to follow him as your guests continued to talk and dance.

Harry was perched on the steps of your patio, eyes wandering across the dark night sky. He glanced over at you as you plopped down next to him, scooting over slightly to give you more space. “How did we get here?” he murmured, swilling the liquor around the walls of his glass - something, anything to distract from the tears forming in his eyes. You sighed, placing a gentle hand on his thigh. “I’m a guest in my own house.”

“Harry-” you started, eyes trailing across his face. “I was meant to be enough for you, I wanted to be enough for you.” He turned to face you, green eyes glistening in the moonlight. “You’re everything, H. I just needed a little more,” you told him, resting your head against his shoulder.

“If I was everything I wouldn’t be living in a rented apartment on the other side of the city.”

“I know, I know,” you whispered, choking back the start of tears. “I miss you every day Harry,” you confessed, words barely coherent between sobs. He wrapped an arm around you, his owns tears spilling out from heavy-lidded eyes. “I love you,” he told you, thumb rubbing delicately across your back. You stayed that way for a while, drinking in the silence around you both, hurt lingering in the air.

“It’s nearly midnight,” Sarah called out from the door, bringing you back to reality. Youd been sat there in dead silence for over half an hour, an unspoken conversation echoing around your minds. Harry tapped his hand against your back, sniffing away the last of any long-dried tears as he stood up. You turned to watch him slip past Sarah’s petite frame as she padded over to pull you to your feet, draping an arm over your shoulder as you walked back through the house. “Ok?” she asked, slipping a glass of prosecco into your hands as you rejoined the group. You’d set up the projector earlier ready to display the new year’s countdown and fireworks. You clicked it on just before the huge ‘10’ flashed across the living rooms bare wall, purposely left that way for when you and Harry wanted to cuddle and watch films in the late evenings.

Your friends shouted every number excitedly, party poppers and kazoos ready to blow as the clock struck midnight. Everyone shifted around to cuddle up in their couples, arms wrapped around each other ready for their new year’s kiss, leaving only you and Harry stood on your own, feet away from each other where usually you’d be pressing drunken kisses to each other’s mouths before the countdown even finished. Your heart was pounding in your chest as the numbers got lower. 2024 would be the first year you started without Harry in half a decade.

3

He yanked on your hand, pulling you into his side

2

He smiled down at you, wrapping an arm around your waist

1

He cupped your cheek with his cold hand, leaving you staring up at him with parted lips

Happy New Year

Echoed around the room as he dove towards you, lips crashing against your mouth. It was hard but gentle, soft yet deep, his mouth immediately melding with yours in a heartbreakingly familiar way.

“For old times sake,” he whispered, eyes glinting as he pulled away. You were speechless still, his kiss saying so much and yet not enough. “Harry,” you whispered, tugging him closer to you. Here, buried into his chest, feeling the same old little butterflies flit in your stomach, you were happier than you’d been in months.

Harry lingered in the kitchen as the last of your friends filtered out, scrubbing at dishes in the kitchen sink, nervous hands needing to find something to do. He heard the front door click shut, followed by the sound of your bare feet padding across the wooden floors, stopping behind him. He turned around to see you leaned up against the dining table, watching him. “You don’t need to do that, H,” you murmured, rim of a wine glass pressed against your mouth. “Wanted to,” he smiled, placing the last plate onto the drying rack and drying his hands on his trousers. He stalked towards you, grazing the back of his hand over your blushed cheek. “Stay here tonight,” you told him, the alcohol adding an over-confident edge to your nervousness.

He picked you up, just high enough to sit you down on the edge of the table, green eyes trailing over your face as you stared back at him, eyes wide and cheeks warm. His gaze was dark, caught somewhere between pain and lust. They dragged across your face, again and again, searching for any sign hesitance or doubt. When you didn’t flinch under his stare, his lips found yours again. Soft at first, tongue nudging delicately at your teeth for permission to lick into your mouth, your hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in his hair. You chuckled against his lips as you felt nothing to grab onto, hand instead splayed across the tickle of his stubbly head.

He pulled back for a second, leaning behind you to clear a space at the end of the table before guiding your torso back until your back was flush with the wood. His hands shoved your skirt up around your waist, mouth peppering gentle kisses up and down your thighs. His touch felt so foreign, yet so much like home. He was so gentle with you now, not able to throw you around like he used to. Every move was tentative, careful not to push you too far, as if he ever could.

Harry hooked a finger under the band your pants, the tip of him grazing over your folds. He held them to the side with one hand, head lazing against your thigh as he looked over your pussy, groaning at the sight he’d longed for every day you’d been apart. He’d always craved you, just needing a little touch or taste to get through the day, or celebrate the end of a long one. He pressed a kiss into your entrance, true affection coursing through his bones. His tongue darted out, almost involuntarily, licking a stripe along your centre, then pausing to see how you’d react. When your hips bucked into him, impatient and starved of his touch for too long, he began to lick and lap at you, murmuring contently as he tasted your sweet juices on his tongue. He moved slow but with purpose, savouring the moment rather than chasing after your high as he used to. You’d never think having someone’s head between your thighs could be romantic, but this was about as romantic and loving as it could be. He was licking into you with care and attention, smirking against your folds as you writhed around, constantly trying to grab at his non-existent hair. The stubble was tickling your inner thighs as he moved, something you were used to from his chin but it felt better now. He was different, changed since you last saw him, and yet still the same perfect man.

He slipped a digit inside of you, pulling the thoughts from your mind as he began pushing into your sweet spot, tongue fucking into you simultaneously. He’d usually be spilling out obscenity by now, rasping against your folds in the way he knew you loved. But like this, silent except for the tiny moans and groans emitted from you both, you felt reborn. Approaching everything differently, vulnerable to each other’s wants and needs. His lips wrapped around your clit, feeling your legs beginning to shake beneath him and knowing you needed that one final push. Your orgasm washed over you quickly, back arching off the table as your juices ran down his hand. It was so simple, so easy and still perfect. “Happy new year,” he whispered, pressing a kiss onto your mound as he finally came up for air.

taglist: @sleutherclaw @slutforcoffein @harrysolaf @opheliaofficial07 @dragonslayersupremacy @nikkisimps @michellekstyles @im-an-overthinker @fangirl7060 @indierockgirrl @palmettogal508 @thereunion1d @angstygyal @hannah9921 @he6rtshaker

[dyk3tastic]

can’t have both

victoria neuman (the boys) x reader

genre: angst, tension

summary: set during 4x07 of the boys. you, a member of the boys, run into victoria at tek-nights whilst looking for hughie. danger leads to a brief moment of vulnerability between you two.

warnings: blood, violence, canon-typical threats of violence, language, non-con touching

a/n: my first post on my new blog :p. been obsessed with her and needed somewhere to dump this sexy headpopper brainrot. lmk if you’d like me to write more of her or any other hot ‘evil’ women (shes not evil, just misunderstood (ignore all the homocide)). haven’t posted ff in years lol im being sucked back in. written off an edible at 4am excuse any spag errors. (heya, this is shy from the future, you can now read part 2 & part 3 of this if u fancy :p )

she has you pinned, strong lithe fingers wrapped around your neck, squeezing. the other gripping firm across your jaw, sure to leave a bruise, keeping you quiet. you think all this is unnecessary, you don’t have a death wish; screaming, drawing any attention to yourself, in a house full of supes and nazis wasn’t exactly high on your wishlist. you glared up at her deep brown eyes, they were as collected as she always so desperately tried to appear, the only hint of panic setting along her tight jaw. looming over you in her heels you loved so much, you’re eyes see her mouth moving but no words register. you wonder how she can even cope at things like this, how she can stomach this disgusting parade of privilege and abuse. the victoria you knew would fucking hate this, but you didn’t know her, not really.

its only her tightening grip on your jaw, making your teeth scrape against each other, pain shooting through your skull that brings you back.

“you’re a fucking idiot” she gritted through a clenched jaw. she took a deep, shaky breath. if you didn’t know better you’d think she was nervous. “pull any of your usual shit on me right now and i swear to god i will paint that pretty face of yours across the room”. her voice was barely above a whisper, inches away from your face her warm breath prickled against your skin, stray strands of her soft dark hair brushing against your cheek. you don’t think you’ve been this close to her since you found out, your heart pounded in your chest, body thrumming with nerves and tension. she released her hand from over your mouth, “what are you doing here?” she spat out, with that familiar patronising yet pitiful victoria stare that tells you you’ve once again made a bad decision, the wrong decision. you gasp for breath, she loosens her grip on your neck, but still keeps her fingers settled over your pulse point, a reminder of who’s in charge.

you try to keep your voice even as you rasp out a “hughie”, throat still throbbing from her grip. “your pal tek-night has got him locked up here somewhere”. continuing to cough out you snarl “you remember hughie right? your friend who you lied to and manipulated for years?”. hot piercing anger was rising through your body whilst something deep sunk in your stomach, settling in a twisted concoction of desire and disgust, a needy pit of betrayal. overwhelmed and once again underprepared, you fingers inch towards the syringe in your back pocket. before you can even swing for her neck your arm is pinned, blood running from both your nostrils, dripping over your lips, down your chin and neck, her grip around your neck tight.

“what did i fucking say?” she sighed, disappointed.

“i thought we were-“ your voice fails you, your anger clouding any chance of vulnerability, of reconciliation.

“i wanted to tell you” a beat of silence. “i did. and hughie. i wanted to tell you both.” she lets out a sad, tired half-laugh, grip not faltering from your neck. “i wanted to trust you but i didn’t want to lose you.” she swallows. “and i didn’t think i could have both, i’ve never been able to have both”. the slip in her mask of cool confidence, the crack of vulnerability, makes you feel slightly sick as you are unable to squash the warmth of empathy in your chest. you flinch at the melancholy that swims below her beautiful features, that deep sadness painting her eyes that made her so fucking irresistible. you felt sick again.

“just get it over with vic.” you choked out, mouth filling with blood. she frowned in response, taking a moment as she felt your heart beat, blood pumping fast and heavy through your body, she could tell you were scared. feeling the heat from your skin, she knew her closeness was having an effect on you, she let a smirk tug at the corners of her full lips.

“i’m not going to fucking kill you.” she dryly chuckled. letting go of her grip on your neck and wrist, she swiped the pad of her thumb over your lips, dragging down across your chin. as she stepped back from you your traitor body instantly missed her presence looming over you. you were free to make a run for it, yet there you remained, paralysed before her knowing stare. she raised her thumb to her mouth, licking off your blood in what can only be described as a terrifyingly erotic gesture that was perfectly victoria. both a display of power and some twisted form of tenderness. your breath hitched as you broke eye contact, not daring to say a word for fear of what might come out. she smiled again, this time without that signature smugness, but with a softer expression that she reserved, rarely, for very few, desperately sincere. before you could even allow your seriously lagging brain to formulate a response victoria was striding out of the room without looking back, leaving your blood to dry across your face.