#NO BETA OR PROOFREADING

[tanjir0se]

Disclaimer these are just a small sampling of some possible writer traits I’ve noticed either in myself or in fics I read. Also consider a rb for sample size !

[exams-will-make-me-cry]

The fact you had to have a Disclaimer about overdose surprises me.

So like, there was the conversation that happened, and @winterpower98 had this idea, and y'all know I go feral any time Winter mentions an idea, and then @skellebonez added something else that I vibed with, so I put them together and HERE WE ARE

A little thingie for Winter’s Cursed AU. I dunno when or where this would fit into it, but it’s loosely and vaguely set in that universe ksdmfoawe I don’t know what I’m doing just take it ;lkmFWEOF

9,194 WORDS FOR YA WINTER CAUSE I HAVE NO SELF-CONTROL APPARENTLY (part of me’s wondering why I don’t just post this to Ao3 *wheezing*)

Anyway, GOOD LUCK AKSDMFOWEF

(Warnings: Blood, injury, stitches, technically a stab wound, but none of it’s really graphic or described in detail)

.

Hurry, hurry, hurry.

One foot in front of the other; Mei on one side of Macaque, Mk on the other, the both of them half-supporting, half-dragging the barely conscious monkey. They’d each grabbed one of his arms and pulled them over their shoulders to keep him upright, taking most of his weight on the both of them, their other free arms coming to wrap around his waist and steady him. Mei’s arm was overlapping Mk’s and kinda crushing it with how tightly she was gripping Macaque, but he was too distracted to really care.

Keep reading

[moominsuki]

✎ᝰ BAKUGOU KATSUKI ; — 11:36 AM OR when you’re needy and he’s ready to help you. doesn’t mean he won’t have some of his own fun while doing it. (birthday special)

࿄ ! warnings - major nsfw. squirting. f!reader. kind of dubcon but not really. / note. hey… how y’all doing! i have no excuses this time lol. i also can’t promise i will be back! i couldn’t let this brew in my drafts forever, esp. on his birthday. but enjoy :} minors& blank blogs dni.

you: hey kats i miss you :(

you: katsuki? i need you

you sent those texts at around 11:36 am and it’s now almost an hour later, with katsuki being in a very important heroes’ meeting of some sort. now, katsuki never takes time or leave off of work only on the condition he’s practically spilling his guts onto the floor - and even so, he’d come in with his hands wrapped round his lower abdomen if he wasn’t chastised for showing up half dead.

this wasn’t out of the ordinary for you - you know, to text him all needy and sad. don’t get it all wrong, it makes katsuki’s heart clench to have to leave you to your lonesome when he’s busy and you’re not. he knows how you get when you get off your period and mixed when you’re also feeling poorly comes a combination of you feeling melancholic, sweet and also very needy. by the way, did he mention needy yet?

katsuki: what’s up with you? you ok?

his phone vibrates almost as fast as he tried to stuff it in his pocket and he inconspicuously looks down.

you: no… i need you :((

katsuki sighs looking at your texts, excusing himself from the meeting and giving what he’d consider sympathetic eyes to his friends before dialling up your number.

“you okay, princess?” katsuki frowns, “i know you ‘aven’t been feeling well these past few days but ‘m busy-”

“katsukiii,” you all but whine into the phone, mewling and he straightens up immediately at your voice, ears turning a cute shade of pink. oh. he knows this tone. he knows it all too well amongst the linen sheets of his bed.

“i know i shouldn’t be calling while you’re busy but, fuck, i need you, need you so much,” you gasp on the other side of the line, practically swimming in his bed, wearing only your cotton panties and a barely there tank top.

katsuki bites his fist, standing behind the conference room door, groaning quietly. “yeah?”

“mhmmm, i really do,” you simper, “you looked really good this morning an-and you smelt so good and… ‘m just really, really needy right now.”

katsuki should tell you to get a grip, dash some cold water on your face and put your fingers to good use but the way you’re moaning and whining across the phone is making all his blood cells rush from the rational parts of his body down to the irrational parts of his body.

“where r’you right now?”

“in your bed… just like how you left me,” you sigh, a pathetic and wanton lilt to your words. “all alone in this big and cold bed wishing my big, strong man would come home and give me what i deserve.”

your flushed face boyfriend all but snarls, teeth bared over the phone. “yeah? what d’you deserve, then, for interrupting me at work and and then begging me to come home and fuck you? cos that’s what you want, right? for me t’drop everythin’ and come running to you?”

“yup,” you hum, popping the ‘p’ and some rustling can be heard in the background. “well, ‘s your choice, really. i just… really need you, baby.”

you can hear katsuki’s deep breathing over the phone and you’re so certain you can hear the cogs in his skull turning, clicking as he mulls over this decision. he clears his throat, lamenting with a big sigh as if this is all one big inconvenience for him.

just at that moment, deku comes through the door.

“everything okay, kacch- dynamight? if you’re busy we can discuss this with you another time.”

“…‘m gonna have to head home for a little while… something’s come up. don’ wait up. i’ll be back as quick as i can.”

katsuki wants to bite you when he can make out the smile over your exhale through the receiver but you’re quick to hang up as deku reassures his friend in his naïveté, unknowing to the true purpose of his mid day return home.

when katsuki returns within 10 minutes since your call (usually it’s a 16 minute drive from the agency to home - pedal to the metal), you’re already on the couch, and your tank top does nothing to hide the hardness of your nipples and katsuki can see the shape of your cunt lips through your barely there panties.

no words are passed as you smile sweetly at your boyfriend, who kicks off his shoes and whose hands already at his belt as he stalks over to your seated body.

“how d’ya want it, huh?” you’re already moving back across the couch, legs spread.

“just fuck me please,” you whimper, “wan’ you to stretch me out with your cock.” you paw at his hips, at the waistline of his trousers that situate themselves in front of your face.

“you don’ want me to stretch you out first?” he muses, dropping down to his knees in front of your scantily clad pussy, thick fingers pressing on your covered clit and you hum, shaking your head.

“i can take it right now,” you gasp, and two fingers slip into your pants despite your protests at how you “don’t need to be prepped,” and that you “can take him right now.” alas, you shut up effective immediately when his fingers skim through your panties and straight to rubbing your hardened nub and you can’t find it in yourself to get annoyed when two digits slip inside you, curling up only for a mere second and jolting your body along with it.

katsuki pulls his dampened fingers out, effectively taking off your panties with him. “your decision. don’t get pissy with me later when it’s sore, because ‘m not gonna have it.”

you shake your head defiantly, utterances of “i won’t” and “just please fuck me,” meshing into a slurry of words.

he grabs your face to look at you. “you promise?”

you nod and he frowns, smushing your cheeks slightly. “you better speak up and fast, because i ain’t got all day, princess.”

“i promish! i promishh.” the words come out muffled against the grip of his hand. your boyfriend takes the answer anyhow, because he gets up from off his knees to impatiently throw off his blazer, then down his trousers and pants in one swoop.

there’s a smug look on your face and katsuki can tell you’re trying to hide a triumphant smile. he wants to wipe it off your face so badly.

“face down, ass up, pretty lady.”

you throw yourself around without a second to spare and katsuki stuffs a pillow under your hips, slapping your ass in the process. at any other time, you would’ve scolded him for leaving a print. instead you moan and arch your back, clenching cunt on display for his hungry eyes.

“fucking minx,” katsuki grumbles, settling behind you and letting the weight of his mostly hard cock tap against your pussy, delving between your puffy lips and rubbing against your hardened clit.

you try to be good, try not to say anything that might make him want to punish you but you’re growing restless at what feels like hours of torture (hours being mere seconds that is) and you sniffle out a weak “katsuki, please…”

his heart clenches at your tone and even when he’s trying to tease you, he can’t help but feed out the palm of your hand. he also can’t help that his dick pulsates in his grip at the pathetic tone of your voice.

“don’t rush me or i’ll leave you like this,” he grumbles, and you both know he wouldn’t dare, and you’re about to protest, turn your head to spit defiantly at him but it’s much too late for that. he sinks in, weighty and thick and it knocks the breath out of you. you practically face plant into the armrest of the couch and your teeth bites into the cashmere fabric.

there’s something about not being prepped before that makes this so much more intimate and sexy for the both of you, but the impending realisation that you will be sore tomorrow dawns on you as you feel the heft of his balls press on you. he’s right to the hilt and you’re full to the brim, gasping.

neither of you can get a word out edgeways or sideways - katsuki leans down to wrap a thick arm around your neck and though he can barely see your face, he can feel the salty tears dribbling down his forearm and he can most definitely hear the wordless cries coming from out your agape mouth.

“this is what you wanted,” he hisses, nose in your hair, his wide body trapping you to the couch, “don’t you fuckin’ complain later- fuckin’, shittt,” he groans, pulling back out slightly and getting sucked in by your silken walls. the living room has gotten 100 degrees hotter and he wants to blame you so badly, but you moan out his name wantonly, one hand around his own that’s slightly bruising against your neck and he’s putty.

“hurts so good,” you finally get out, toes curling when the tip of his cock hits against that honeyed spot. “jus’- jus’ like that,” you slur, legs shaking and thrashing when you feel katsuki’s hand slip between your bodies.

all he can focus on is how fast you got sloppy for him, the conjoining of your bodies, if only fleeting, is getting to him, if the clench of his balls has anything to say about it. his hand finds your throbbing pearl and a straying pointer fingers rubs on it firmly in broad, confident circles, and you choke, eyes crossing.

your body stiffens and you’re not even sure you’re speaking a coherent language at this point, but you garble out something along the lines of “i love you,” and “i can’t take it,” and a contradicting “like that, katsuki.”

behind you, he’s thrusting even harder and rubbing faster at your clit, pressing down with ferocity and you’re not even sure what you’re begging for anymore, the tension in your bladder rising. even in the midst of a second, impending orgasm do you turn and try to kiss him, which he gladly accepts, tongue delving into your mouth and he inevitably hunches, grunting and huffing, red faced and shooting ropes of thick cum inside of you.

that’s when your second one hits, and it’s even heavier than the last, sprays of liquid hitting your boyfriend’s lower abdomen and you squeal, hips gyrating and katsuki doesn’t slow until you’re basically limp, collapsed against the softness of his sofa.

he kisses your head, pulling out and you gasp at the exit. no words are shared as he brandishes a damp cloth from somewhere - he must’ve gotten up in your daze, you didn’t even know he had left from behind you at all, and it makes you sigh, cheeks resting against the armrest.

katsuki cleans you up in typical, sweetheart fashion, passing you a blanket and your clothes like he always does after a romp, and it’s only when he makes you sit up so you can eat a banana and drink a glass of cold, fresh water do you say something.

“so i take that you’re not going back into work?”

katsuki’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline, and he looks away from you, pouting. you think he’s not going to say anything till he scoffs a short moment later, “…’s not like i had much to do today anyway… i’ll catch up with those idiots later.”

you don’t bite back your smile this time and he pulls you into his chest. “you better wipe that shit eating grin off ya face.”

“or what? you threatening me with a good time?” you giggle, wiggling your brows and he opens his mouth to bark back until you move your hips slightly and hiss.

“what was that?” he questions and you ignore him. he groans, swiping a hand across his face,“…y/n, i-”

“‘m not complaining!… but i would be lying if i said it’s not a little sore- hey!”

katsuki wraps you up in his arms, blanket strewn.

“what are you-”

“since ‘m taking the rest of the day off, might as well go clean up and have a bath… remind me to never listen to you again.”

“hey! it’s not my fault you’re such a brute,” you laugh as he kisses your face, walking up the stairs.

“not so hard!” you hiss in pain, “‘m sore!”

yeah. remind katsuki to never listen to you when you’re horny.

࿄ ! — all rights reserved © MOOMINSUKI 2024. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited

[unformula1]

promises - 1 (ln4)

part 2 || you and lando used to be best friends, but you two drifted apart. (1464 words) a/n: im back ! should i make a part 2?? || masterlist

You and Lando used to be friends. Best friends, one might say. The two of you were inseparable. Every Friday night, without fail, both of you would meet up at the playground near the central district of your hometown. The playground would usually be empty, with most children staying in with their parents. This gave you and Lando the whole playground, all to yourselves.

It was perfect to make the purest memories. Just two kids, pure innocence and naivety, and a friendship which felt like forever. You’d talk about which toy cars were the better ones, he’d always say the orange ones. You two would laugh about the silliest things, and promise each other to be friends forever. 

You two grew up together, went through the teenage years with each other, there in the highs and lows. Every Friday night became every night. You two would see each other daily, at the same playground. As both of you matured, so did your conversations, you two started talking about your love lives, your future.

Both of you sat on the ground, leaning against the wooden base of the slide which both of you used to ride together.

~~~

“I mean… It seems pretty cool.” You tell him.

“It is.” Lando confirms, “I’ve been doing it since I was a small kid, just zooming around.”

You chuckle as Lando mimics driving a go-kart.

“You see yourself driving them forever?” You ask, shifting closer to him.

“Hell yeah.” He replies confidently, not a single ounce of doubt in his voice.

“Alright then.” You smile, “Go for it.”

“You’ll be there right?” He asks you.

“I will. You’ll remember me right?”

“Yes.”

~~~

Both of you made promises, whether they were the shallowest things or the deepest feelings. He never left you alone, you never made fun of him for the quirky things he liked. He stood by you when the worst was brought upon you, when you cried about some stupid boy not liking you back, when you lost your only ticket to your dream university.

~~~

You sat on the floor of his room, wiping away the dried up tears on your face. You’ve never felt this vulnerable to anyone. He lays down next to you and props himself up onto his elbow, looking at you. You glance back at him as he fiddles with his hair. 

“Are you gonna keep staring at me?” You ask, letting out a soft chuckle as you continue to wipe off your tears.

“Sorry.” He replies, laughing a little, “They don’t deserve you anyway.” 

He sits up and shrugs.

“You could do better.” He deadpans.

Your lips curve up ever so slightly.

“Well-” You sigh, “I guess I’ll stay here forever.”

Both of you laugh again.

“So will I.”

~~~

But he didn’t. Lando Norris left the town in pursuit of greater things.

“You’re leaving?” The realisation hits you.

He sheepishly nods.

Your emotions are all jumbled up into one big mess, everything just engulfing your heart as tears start falling.

“Oh-” Lando says before hugging you tightly.

You hug him back, your tears staining his sweater.

“C’mon now… don’t get all teary on me.” Lando says, clearing stifling down sobbing sounds.

You can’t let out any words.

~~~

It finally came a few months later. You stood in the airport, face to face with Lando. You felt the overwhelming feeling of nostalgia, letting all the memories from the youngest ages of childhood flow through your head as you closed your eyes, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes.

He looks at you with his stupid little grin, his eyes getting watery as he purses his lips, taking in deep breaths. 

You run up to him and hug him, for what might be the last time ever. It’s a tight hug, one surrounded by years of friendships and years of memories all building up. He sobs on your shoulder, jerking slightly each sob as you grip tightly to him, never wanting to let go.

But you have to. Both of you take a step back. Lando takes out a necklace for you.

“For you.” He says, “I have a matching one.”

You sob violently and take the necklace, immediately putting it around your neck and holding onto it with a deathly grip.

He reaches out for your hand. Both of you hold hands for a few seconds, he closes his eyes once again as the tears traced his cheekbone and clung onto his jaw, trickling down slowly.

“We’ll stay in contact.” He says softly in between heavy sobs as he pulls you in one last time, patting you on the back.

“We better.” You crack a joke which makes him giggle. He nods more and pats your shoulder.

The moment has to come to an end eventually, with a heavy heart he takes a step back. He looks you in the eyes one last time and you stare at his brown-blue glistening eyes which sparkled.

You’ll miss those.

You’ll miss him.

You’ll miss all of this.

As he enters the boarding gates, he looks back at you again, smiling slightly at you as he waves slightly. You look back at him, wishing you could be there with him, flying somewhere same. Something wants you to run up to him and hold on tight to him but you stay put, waving goodbye to him. 

He holds up the necklace and smiles at you, you smile back at him, choking through the tears which suffocate your lungs as the sting in your throat resurfaces. You hold the necklace up to him too and for the last time, he nods at you, turning around and slowly disappearing from your view.

You stand there. 

What do you do now?

What are the weekly nights reserved for now?

Will you ever see Lando again?

———

The nights felt empty and missing a piece, because they were. You missed sitting with him in the cool breeze of the evening or in the dim lights of the nearby stores, talking about things that you would never tell anyone else. You missed all of it, every single angry, sad, happy, nostalgic moment. It was hard to change your entire life, you called him and texted him every single waking minute of your life and he did so too. However, it never felt the same. Sometimes you’d wake up in the middle of the night just to imagine he was there with you again and your tears would involuntarily come trickling down again. 

Eventually, you got used to it, like you do.

The years past much quicker than you imagined. You watched Lando grow from a young karter to Formula 1 driver. Sometimes you catch yourself watching his races and other times you see his face in the billboards across town.

You don’t know if he remembers you but both of you practically lost contact after you two stopped texting a few years back. It was rough. Both of you made each other the world, you made him your world. Absolutely nothing was going to stand in your way, but time took its path, and fate drew its sword. It was something that you could never change no matter how hard you tried. Even with empty days and sleepless nights just pretending and wishing and hoping that something would happen. It wouldn’t. 

So you had come to peace with it, he was just another passing chapter in your life, meeting once and never again, ingrained in the stone of life.

You were proud of him, for making it this far. You really were. Nothing would ever make you wish anything but the best for him; after all, he was the biggest boy in your life at one point, and nothing would change that. You were incredibly happy for him, for how much effort he’d put into this, he deserved everything. You even watched him win his first race in Miami.

You shed a tear or two. The memories of everything flooding back into your head, just remembering Lando as a young kid saying to you he’d take over the world. He did. You were proud.

But you weren’t there.

Were the promises you made all empty? Just passing in the moment to be carried by the wind and never to be seen or heard ever again?

You sat on the couch watching him take the top step of the podium, holding up the trophy as the sunlight serenaded his face. The familiar sparkle of his eyes stood out to you, it was like when he left. This time his tears were happy ones. 

Your tears were bittersweet.

A few hours pass and a chime from your phone gets you off your couch and reaching for your phone.

You got an Instagram DM, from landonorris.

[typing-catastrophe]

Charles Xavier - only one bed (headcanons)

request: "gmorning! with deadpool 3 bringing around the xmen renaissance ive found myself once again totally obsessed w james mcavoy and was wondering if i could req an only one bed charles xavier x reader piece please ! i feel like theres just so much to be done w that trope, the mutual pining, the fluster, the rushed confessions, and ive somehow never seen anymore pair it w charles yet ?? i trust your vision completely, thank you so much and have a lovely day!"

a/n: thank you so much for your request anon ^^ I am also working on a longer piece (actual oneshot, no bulletpoints), so stay tuned for that and in the mean time have this :P hope you like it

💕 fluff

oohhh the temptation

charles trying so hard not to give in and read your mind

he is just so goddamn curious as to know what you're thinking about your current situation

because he can feel you laying next to him all tensed up and it makes him nervous

you're both idiots in love with the other, have been for a while, and both to scared to make the first move

you're convinced he isn't interested in you at all, and are too scared to ruin the friendship to say anything

and he is convinced he would drive away the only friend he made asides from raven and would end up feeling much lonelier than before

he technically is confident enough but at the same time doesn't want to risk anything going wrong or making it awkward between the two of you

when it gets too much for him, he strikes up a conversation which would end up in you two laughing and finally being comfortable in each others space again

when you tell him that you're having a hard time falling asleep at new places, he would offer to tell you about his research, because it helps raven fall asleep

when you both eventually fall asleep, he unconsciously shifts over and holds you close

you stir awake from the movement next to you, already dozing off again when you feel an arm sneak over your stomach and an explosion of butterflies when charles pulls you close

(that man needs someone to cuddle at night and you can't convince me otherwise. he's a cuddler.)

now wide awake and heartbeat going faster by the second, you franticly try to think of what to do next

when you try to scoot away, you're not only met with resistance but with him pulling you back and nuzzling his nose into your neck and hair

you lay there in defeat for a few minutes, enough time for your heartbeat to settle again. then you decide to turn around in his arms

you use the opportunity to look at him his beautiful facial features, all relaxed and peaceful. you'd never allow yourself to stare at him like this, in fear of getting caught

when he started to wake up and blinking a few times, you know you should look away, but you're so captured by him that you can't bring yourself to do so

so you're laying face to face with him, only inches apart, holding your breath

"hey... can't sleep?" he asks with a soft tone and smile

you shake your head the tiniest bit and a stray lock of hair falls into your face

he reaches out to tuck it behind your ear and lets his hand linger

even without using his powers he is almost sure to know what you think in that moment

so he leans in closer and asks "may I?"

you whisper a breathless "please" and before you know it, he presses the softest kiss to your lips

you almost whine when he leans back again

"you look so beautiful, darling" and "forgive me, we should've done this a lot sooner"

you couldn't agree more

sleepy, soft kisses turn into more intense ones turn into makeout session

so much suppressed feelings resurfacing, you can't get enough of each other

when your shirt hitches up and his hand grazes your bare skin, you let out a small noise of surprise and jump a little at the sudden contact

charles moves his hand away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or do something you're not ready for, when you reach down and put his hand back, reassuring that it is okay for you

he doesn't mind at all if you don't want to go any further, he can't believe his luck of you reciprocating his feelings at all in the first place

if you do want to go further, that man will give you the best and softest, most loving time of your life

given that that would be your first time together, you would keep it simple and stick to getting to know each other and each others likes

first and foremost he would concentrate on making you feel good

[aleixis]

how do we feel about harem boy!ness x empress!reader !!!

okay so !!! imagine reader who's the ruler of an empire the size of an entire continent and half, she and her ruthless soldiers charging into battle after battle ! ness was a gift given from the emperor of münchen, michael kaiser ( ruler a recently conquered empire ), as a symbol of respect to your empire. ( u even make THE kaiser shiver in his boots omg just who are u !! )

you never really cared for partners, both romantically or in bed, but the gift was accepted as a courtesy. you were hesitant to accept at first, but your political advisor, ( isagi ) recommended you to accept. ness seemed compliant, almost eager to be gifted (honestly, he was just ecstatic that kaiser viewed him valuable enough to be a gift) ! he was so sweet and kind to you ever since your first meeting, even if you paid little to no attention towards him ! that just pushes him to yearn for your validation even more <3

soon enough, ness realizes that he's not the only one desperate for your affection. your harem of 4 other men ( i have no idea who to pick so just imagine its ur other favs ) haven't SLEPT in the same bed as you in a couple months, and they're all yearning for u :( ness has to join the 4 to win your heart over, but how ?!

the others have tried pretty much every trick in the book; seducing you ( which never works, you're always too busy drowning in work ), trying to make you jealous ( you don't care enough to be jealous ), winning you over with gifts ( nothing they gift you can compare to the entire world you have in your hands ), everything ! every move they'll make will spare nothing more than a glance and an occasional laugh from you, never anything more.

so, ness is desperate to change that ! he'll do anything in his power to catch your fancy <33

[therabbitthatpostthings]

I'm coping. No beta, we will unpack the emotions Arcane put me through over the last 24 hours. TW: brief sui ideation/attempt. I imagine the Reader (along with Sky) came to Piltover and thus is closer to Sky than Viktor and Jayce but still grew up with Viktor and Sky. (Masterlist)

When the council building was struck, you were at home, unaware Viktor was among the wreckage.

When Jayce's body gave out from exhaustion, you stayed by Viktor's side and studied the Hextech.

When Viktor left, you ran after him, promising Jayce you would watch over him. Viktor protested but you followed anyway.

You helped the Undercity people, your people.

When Jayce attacked Viktor, deep in your heart you already knew he was gone but that didn't stop the heartbreak as you and Jayce fled from Ambessa and her army.

When Jayce asked you to flee, you stood your ground to help the fight against Ambessa.

When all hope was lost, you truly believed Viktor wad still in there and you would all be together again.

What a lie that was.

The cold ocean breeze brushes against you as you stand on the Bridge of Progress. You felt awful for resigning the way you did, especially with a Zaunite like you on the council now. From the rumours you heard Sevika seemed like a capable leader. You don't remember much from your time in the Undercity, you left before Silco took over. You finished your work and left behind that grand hall.

Where Hextech was born.

Where the dreams of poor little kids like you, Viktor and Sky seemed to be feasible.

That was a long time ago.

So now here You are. On this awful bridge deciding if you should go back to your apartment and hope your familial home is accessible. Both were filled with memories you couldn't shake off. Of simpler times, running up and down the halls with new ideas buzzing around faster than any of you could keep up with. Of late night studying and innovations. Of those late summers of your childhood, playing in the streets. Watching the boats disappear from the harbour. Traversing the metal jungle of the Undercity.

There was always another option. You stared into the deep dark abyss of the water below you. The thought crossed your mind more and more these days. You knew deep down, Viktor and Sky were suited for this city. Once Jayce came along, you faded into the story, another nameless face, a background character in the tale of Hextech. But Hextech is gone. Jayce and Viktor and Sky are gone. What is the point of staying around? Not even important enough to be an afterthought. The only people around to miss you were gone.

Your hand gripped the metal bars. In one one motion you swung your leg over. You bag swung heavily with you and banged against your side as it slipped off your shoulder and into the water below. You cursed at yourself. Of course you would manage to lose your bag in an emotional fit.

Defeated and embarrassed you climbed back over the railing. About to walk away you hear a ticking noise. There in the water, leaving a trail of wet newspaper and tape was a little metal boat.

Viktor's metal boat.

It ticked for another second and then it started to move. With a newfound urgency you rushed to the edge of the bridge! You leaped over the fence and down the slippery beams to reached the harbour underneath. Feet pounding against the concrete to reach the unstoppable little boat. It can't leave! Not Viktor's boat! Not the thing that inspired you all those years ago. Viktor's boat can't leave, you can't lose anymore!

Cruelly, the boat continued on the water. Moving farther and farther from the harbour. You legs felt heavy. Kneed battered against the concrete as you couldn't push yourself to go any further. That little boat, unshaken sailed out farther form your view.

"N-No... please... come back..."

Why? Why did it leave? How did even start up?! You never turned the key! How could it start up?! How could it leave?! How did the boat leave?! Was there even anything you could have done to save them?!

Them...

And you couldn't hold it back anymore. You screamed and sobbed into the night, uncaring of who would hear you. Fist pounding on the concrete. The anger and pain had all boiled up to the surface. How could they leave you? How could they be consumed by the Arcane? Why are you the one who remains. The afterthought, the helper, the one who gets the coffee, the one who no one even remembers. Why must you remain when the you people you held dear have all died?! How is this fair? How is this right?

Why, when everyone has found the strength to move forward, You stay behind.

Your painful wails slowly hushed as another frigid breeze blew off the water. Something small, crawling and alive land by your enclosed fist. You jerked back in shock only to see, unbothered and unafraid was a butterfly. It's white wings gleamed with a perlerscent shimmer. The butterfly fluttered from your fist and to the guard rail ahead of you. Shakily you made your way to it.

Just past it was the boat, still wading in the water, as the sunset poked from behind the clouds. The beams danced across the water, as if inviting the little boat closer to it. And it did. It rode the sunlight off into the horizon and was gone.

As if on cue, the butterfly once again flew onto your tightened fist. You felt like you understood the little creature. "Is this what you wanted me to see?"

It flittered its wings, fully opening for you look at the looping patterns, spirals swirling inside themselves. "Right, I think I understand now. Thank you, Viktor."

The butterfly fluttered away, taking that sense of unease and dread away with it.

You'll grieve for tonight. Tomorrow is a new day.

I meant for this to be a ViktorxReader but it turned into "Reader has spent the last couple years along side Viktor and Jayce and considers them both great friends and is close friends and colleagues with Sky, considering them all to be very precious to them", in case your wondering why the Viktor part seems a little light in this. Lowkey kinda hate the borders they’ll do for now.

[jazeswhbhaven]

I couldn't help myself I wanted to write something about this....(credit to @bakdbfi for the screenshot)

(soft, vanilla, passionate sex, serious!Asmodeus, GN!Reader)

When you arrived at the designated cabin in the dense forest and mountains on Earth, the snow quietly falling, the chill air nipping at your nose...you had no idea what Asmodeus was thinking inviting you so suddenly.

Stepping into the cabin, it's warm, the scent of smoky wood and cinnamon greeting you like a blanket of comfort. Your mind was set at ease, despite the location being in the middle of nowhere and the usual antics of the devil you met in Hell. What could he really be planning?

As you take off your boots you see a trail of rose petals on the floor, leading you to the back of the cabin where you're certain the bedroom is located. This seems...out of character for him, right? You're normally met with the usual in your face, cock out, flirty intensity where you swear he was in heat by the way he drooled at the sight of you.

Not tonight. In fact, he was nowhere to be seen. You weren't sure if you should be worried, but you walk the path set before you. When you reach the bedroom it's even more cozy than the living room. Warm lights, a thick and fluffy bed with plenty of pillows and blankets, a small fireplace with the sounds of crackling and pops of burning wood. The window though covered with sheer curtains, giving you a romantic view of the snow covered pines. It was perfect in every sense of the word and your comfort levels were more than relaxed.

"I can tell by your body language, that you love it."

Large, soft hands reach over your shoulders and down your collarbones as Asmodeus whispers tenderly in your ear.

"I said I'd make this a wonderful memory, though I'm sorry I couldn't give the full experience of putting the little ones to bed."

Your first reaction is soft laughter, realizing that his text to you on Christmas was serious now that the two of you were here. This was the only time he could get you alone and away from the other Kings, but you assumed it was just another quick dick appointment.

However, right now he wasn't laughing with you, or saying his usual overly sexual comments that made you cringe. In fact, he was peppering kisses on your neck, gently massaging your chest and tugging at your sweater.

"Get in the bed, please?"

It shouldn't have made you shiver, but it did. While it was a request, the hint of controlled restraint in his voice had you realize he was struggling to be patient in your presence. If he could do that, then it must meant this was serious. You couldn't help but oblige. Though, you didn't have to be told to remove your clothing because you knew what was going to happen in this room. He made that abundantly clear.

You crawl into the thick blankets, soft to the touch and luxurious in quality. Everything is off your body, well aside from your underwear. Asmodeus smiles, crawling after you and picking up your leg to kiss your ankle up to your calf. As he holds your foot against his cheek he looks at you lovingly, taking in the sight of you before he speaks again.

"I said I was going to make love to you, and I mean it..."

Your breath hitches as he pulls you forward, one leg propped up as he easily slides off the only garment left. He groans softly when he sees how ready you are, your sensitive parts swollen, glistening with arousal that had been building since he started kissing your neck.

He taps your hips, giving you the signal to flip over on your stomach. The moment you do, he bends down, his tongue sliding over your hole as he eats you out from the back. You arch your hips, the sudden sensation driving you wild. Between the flicks and kisses of his lips and tongue you're already a mess of pleasure and he keeps at it for a few moments, until he changes your position again.

You're on your back again, legs spread as he goes back down to continue running his tongue against your parts like he was starving. You could feel just how wet and slick his lips were, how his tongue dipped in and out of you as you try not to clench so early or it would send you past your peak. But he doesn't care, repeatedly hitting the same spot over and over until you come, the first of many the night would bring.

He changes your position once again, not done with you just yet. having your back rest against his chest, your head titled up to meet his gaze as he leans down to capture your mouth in a deep and passionate kiss. In the meanwhile, his long and slender fingers plunge into your quivering hole, pumping and curved against that sweet spot deep inside that he knew so well. He was slow, intentional and considerate, speeding up when you whimpered, slowing down when you were more focused on intertwining your tongue with his. He didn't stop until you gasped, moaning into his mouth to indicate another orgasm.

"I think you're ready for me, my love..."

With a soft smile and kiss on your forehead, he pushes you down face forward on the comforter, the part that wasn't covered in your fluids. He carefully brings up your hips, pressing the tip of his cock at your entrance as you wiggle against him to wordlessly beg for it. He gives you a playfully smack on the thigh, sliding into you, making sure every inch is felt.

His thrusts aren't like how they usual are, each stroke deep, with care his hips rolling and grinding like a sensual dance. There was even a point where he leaned over to kiss your back as he pressed further and stayed there just for a moment. You wish he'd stayed there forever as you cockwarmed him but he moves again which has you whimpering and moaning back to back.

"I want to see your face..."

The position changes again, both of your legs pressed back and your hips spread. All the time you'd hear about the "mating press" position and Asmodeus took this to heart. As he locked eyes with you, you swore he was thrusting into you so deeply that your insides were being rearranged. He'd lean down to take your lips again, the same deep-seated strokes that brought you to climax more times you could count.

It was like this all night, each position he'd switch you to was close, your body never leaving the comfort of his own if he could help it. There was a point when you were on your stomach again, but both of your arms were pinned against your back as he went wild, losing himself in the moment. The amount of times he had came were irrelevant to you because you were too drunk in your own ecstasy to notice.

It was only until the sun was shining through the window, your face against his chest as the two of you slept did you realize the night was over. You don't move, but your eyes look up at your lover surprised to see that he was asleep and not awake. He was mumbling in his sleep pulling you closer to him with no intent of letting go. And you had no intention of getting up either, your body and your energy spent with the lingering soreness of making love for hours. You didn't know how long he'd keep this up, but the change of pace made your heart full. Maybe, just maybe, you could do this forever.

[hiroshiii13]

I need Bingge yuan harem. Concubine SY, especially if he was bride napped. I want Bingge jealous of his own harem bcus it feels like punching cotton the way SY’s well adjusted and unbothered.

Bing: WDYM HE’S NOT ANGRY I HAVEN’T TURNED HIS NAME PLATE?? WHY IS HE NOT SCHEMING?

I want all the hallmarks of palace intrigue!!

SY getting sick from a lack of firewood in his palace. ZZL, his servant, stopping BH’s palanquin at the risk of death. Bowing to the emperor to ask for an imperial physician.

And Bingge trying to be nonchalant, but follows after the physician, asks the royal kitchen to make the most precious nourishing soup. ((He eventually cooks it himself after being so worried)).

Bingge’s interest starts to build. Secretly going (peeping) in the royal gardens as SY spends his time observing the flowers in full bloom. Trying his best to casually make an entrance.

Bingge’s bday banquet comes along, with priceless gifts stacked as far as the eye can see.

SY (w/ no powerful backing) procuring a small jade charm and medicinal sachet with hand embroidered details. Bingge directly asking for where SY’s gift is and keeping it on his person.

And every time after they meet Bingge thinks SY would invite him to stay the night, but he doesn’t. Bingge doesn’t need to ask, he knows. Taking SY as a concubine was a joke. But now he was getting serious about wanting him, to want it. For wanting SY to ask for it.

So he pulls his wild nature back and pretends to be soft and harmless. He always flips his name plate but never stays the night. Sometimes SY plays the qin for him, or sings, sometimes it’s just sending gifts or conversations during meals. Bingge wants his company the most.

Hell, maybe I can introduce a common enemy which allows the northern and southern kingdoms to unite (and get my moshang fix).

SY decides to follow Bingge in war while the rest of the harem stays back. He says he isn’t as delicate and he would follow Bingge through this hardship

Bingge doesn’t allow this but SY sneaks out anyway. With only the clothes on his back, some food and a dagger he travels up north to be w/ Bingge.

(Angst) Of course he’s captured along the way. And forced to become a courtesan. They meet again with SY under a new identity as a gift in the name of diplomacy.

Bingge feels betrayed, all this time? Was it all for this? Was he meant to fall in love and give away his kingdom?

After months of not seeing each other, all the hurt, confusion and longing was surmised in Bingge’s “is he good in bed?”

And he didn’t mean to say that. Especially seeing SY’s eyes glisten and his lips upturned in a sad smile. But the diplomat said how well behaved he is, how good he is.

SY bowed down and answered “my services have always been top notch.”

They fuck. Not in the way he imagined; Nothing of that sort of slow and careful lovemaking w soft whispers and laughter. There was no tenderness at all.

As SY expertly swallowed his dick, rather than bliss there was a feeling of loss in his heart. His most precious treasure, how did he become like this?

‘Was this your plan, all along?’

‘You can think what you want.’

And with that there were no more words between them. Only heavy pants and bruising bites and lots of kisses.

There were time when Bingge thought SY loved him. Maybe it was when he tried pulling out and SY locked his ankles around his hips begging him to stay inside. Maybe it was when he willingly put his arms above his head as Bingge restrained him roughly or maybe it was how he looked at him, tears falling, back arched trying to accommodate all that Bingge could give.

But Bingge would not think of that anymore. The peace talks commenced, the world condemned this stupid emperor. Honey trapped!! By a male courtesan at that!!

Most changed their mind and thought that they would be better off being a vassal state, cursing the emperor.

What the world didn’t know was the rivaling kingdom never meant to let them off. As drought became worse and tithes more absurd, the people only suffered.

Of course SY has had been slowly feeding the North intel with the help of ZZL. 🤩 He used his unique position to learn their schemes but did not tell Bingge.

At this time Bingge was essentially on house arrest, to ensure that they would push through with the treaty.

The Northern Consort schemed while his husband raised their joint army, readying to storm the rivaling kingdom.

They battle it out, and the forces of LBH and MBJ win decisively.

SY looks for Bingge, afraid of being left behind, of being disdained for the rest of his life.

In true palace intrigue fashion, he comes in time, just as someone was about to plunge a dagger into Bingge. He sacrifices himself instead.

There was no need I love yous or I’m sorrys. He knew he was loved. maybe it was a change of heart? Bingge thought.

But talking to MBJ, Bingge realized how wrong he had been. How painstakingly he helped, hiding in plain sight. And through it all, how he carried it all alone.

ZZL tended to his master choking back sobs. He could not help but feel aggrieved.

‘I should have stayed with him, this was all my fault. I should have never listened to him.’

‘What do you mean?’ Bingge arrived shortly after.

‘My master, told me to buy food in the city. I knew he was hiding something.

He left me a letter saying not to worry, that he’ll be running after the emperor’s envoy.’

‘I looked for him but only found his horse and drag marks in the soil. Later I heard he was taken by force.’

Bingge’s knees buckled from the weight of this revelation but he still crawled towards SY’s bed. How harsh had he treated him the first time they met again. How cruel were his words?

As Bingge grasped that gift SY painstakingly made for his birthday, he whispered, ‘SY, wake up, I will never wrong you again in this lifetime. Please wake up.’

But there was only a deafening silence in response.

SY woke up 5 days later, thank god that dagger was not poisoned or it would’ve been a different ending!!

Bingge tended to SY since then, practically a roundworm in his belly. The harem could NOT even visit him for long periods of time lest they draw the ire of a very jealous emperor!

Food was always prepared by Bingge. A truckload of new exquisite clothes was received. It was rumored that SY was so favoured that his palace was inlaid with gold, silver and precious stones.

But more than changes since then, they’ve decided to return to how they were. Bingge would visit him while SY played for him or sang. SY would frolic in the royal gardens, but this time Bingge would accompany him.

And when Bingge was invited to stay the night? They lay a white sheet on top of their bed rather quickly, yet spent the night in an almost torturous simmer. Getting reacquainted w e/o bodies between lots of hot kisses, bruising grips and soft laughter.

The outside world thought it was a truly ridiculous situation. A foolish emperor who surrendered it all for a male courtesan. And a male courtesan who was worth a whole kingdom, yet haphazardly threw his life for an impending puppet emperor.

But as the story was passed on, and the truth was revealed, the once absurd tale was changed to a story of an enduring love between the emperor and his favored male concubine.

(END)

[starrycassi]

Snippet of my jayvik works for silco au.

This is sevika mildly trying to give Viktor relationship advice. In her own way.

"He's… decent looking. Tan. Got some bulk. Tall. I could see it, I guess. Probably. If I squint.” Sevika tells him, which is crazy, because they sort of look alike. Viktor, however, isn't actually that eager for the embrace of death, and will not be telling her that.

Jayce, in the middle of the room, laughs at something someone said. The music is loud enough that Viktor does not have to worry about his lab partner overhearing their conversation, they're far enough for him to hear Sevika’s words without her having to raise her voice too much.

The corner table they're in is his favorite table in the place for that very reason. The sound reverberates off the top of the walls, sound waves bouncing back and forth. There's a speaker over their heads, facing the middle of the room. Its sound doesn't reach them with the same intensity, not if they both sit as close to the wall as possible. He can almost feel the thumping drums right over his head. Sevika appreciates being able to watched the rest of the room without having to worry about her back.

“You're insane.” He tells her, hand shaking slightly. Jayce picks up a shot from a passing waiter, skin glistening under the neon lights. He throws his head back with another cackle, shiny, almost canine teeth showing in a cocky smile. The stretch leaves his neck bare for everyone to witness, and witness they do. Viktor feels the lust that fills some of the faces in the crowd, feels the way some eyes linger far longer that they should.

The shot goes down smoothly, except for the one droplet that escapes his lips. It slides down from the corner of his mouth to his beard, where his partner finally wipes it away with the back of his hand in a quick motion. Jayce's hair is long enough to brush against his cheekbones, and Viktor feels like tugging on it for the rest of the night. Oh, what a glorious night it could be.

A pair of fingers snaps in front of his eyes. He frowns, angry at the interruption. “Staring makes you look pathetic. Makes me look pathetic, by association.”

“It’s not my fault you've no taste, woman.”

Sevika groans, rolling her eyes. Jayce is dancing with an unknown girl. She's got pink skin and cheeks that gets pinker every passing second. Jayce spins her around. She giggles the whole time, batting blue eyelashes at him.

“You're making your own life way more difficult than it needs to be, boy. Fucking women isn't this complicated.”

"You only say that because you pay for the women you fuck. The brothel will get you a special room, at this rate."

"I'm sure there's no woman that would touch you with a teen foot pole. Not for all the money in the world."

Jayce leans down. Pink Girl smiles, leaning in. Jayce, who is an idiot in anything that doesn't concern equations, fixes her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. He goes back to dancing. She follows.

“I don't get you. He's just another loud dog. You've been successfully bringing men like him around for years, and you're getting cold feet now? Don't give me that look. The walls are not that thick and you always get the vocal ones. Do whatever it is you do usually, flash him a nipple or something, and get it over with. Can't be that hard.”

Pink Girl is very clearly trying to be brave. Jayce is very clearly trying to fix her bra. It keeps slipping down.

“He's a piltie.” She continues, spitting the word with all the vitriol a person can manage while slightly inebriated. She glances over at the duo, narrowing her eyes. “And fucking clueless. Glenda right there is practically throwing herself at him. With that combo of attributes? I bet he's never even give his first kiss.”

“How do you know her name?”

“Well, how do you think, eh?” Sevika lifts up an eyebrow, faint smirk growing in her lips. Viktor decides that he's heard enough.

“Whatever. And he has kissed someone.”

“And how do you know that?”

Turns out, Sevika doesn't quite like it when one imitates her answers.

She gets up with a disgusted look on her already unwelcoming features, goes to Jayce and physically shoves him away, elbowing him in the ribs. Glenda seems to forget about Jayce's existence, and let's Sevika take her by the waist. They grind against each other for less than five minute before disappearing into one of the rented rooms.

Jayce, apparently, decides that it is an amazing moment to come over and talk. Viktor makes sure to remember that they do have a job to do. Work. Science. Together. They're coworkers. Colleagues. Co-creators. Partners in the lab.

Jayce's half-open shirt doesn't really help his cause.

.

“This is ridiculous.”

Sevika seems to think that this is Viktor's and hers crush on Jayce. When they met, Viktor never took her for the noisy type. Then he turned sixteen and she decided that he was ‘adult enough’ to complain to.

“You are ridiculous.”

“Greatest genius of Zaun. Can't even think of one decent comeback when the mutt is near. And you're telling me you two spend the whole day alone, in a laboratory, building weapons for our people to use? The very same weapons I have to trust my life to? Amazing.”

Offended, Viktor huffs, burying himself deeper onto the couch.

“Our inventions are absolutely flawless, I will have you know. You arm is one of them. Haven't had any complains, now, have you?”

“The color is ugly.”

He flips her off.

They're in Jinx's… room. Lair. Playground. Whatever this gigantic fan is for her. Jayce, Silco and the kid are having a Very Serious Tea Party. Viktor isn't quite sure what part of his contract covers for this as company time. He doesn't actually have a contract, but, still.

Jayce is wearing a bright-blue, hastily applied lipstick. He's got sloppily applied pink, glittery eyeshadow. His hair is up in the two most asymmetrical pigtails ever. It's long enough to do that, now.

He's crouched down, ass barely fitting into the chairs. He'll probably complain about back pain tomorrow. He chuckles lowly, covering his lips with his hand. The teacup is a miniscule thing on his hands. Calmly, he grabs a sugar cookie and bites in. Silco also got the kid real cookies and tea to play with. For some strange reason.

“- so just fuck him, get it out of your system. Trying to tame your dick will just leave you with a desperate dick and a lot of frustration. As soon as you stop denying it and actually- are you even fucking listening to me?”

Jinx must say something actually funny, for once, because Jayce's laugh reaches all the way to where Sevika and him are retreated, Viktor arguing for pain in his leg and Sevika offering oh so kindly to take care of him.

Jayce rarely actually laughs, these days. He's a great pretender, but Viktor is an even better skeptic. The dry chuckles and pretentious giggles don't sway him, neither do the over-the-top roars of noise he lets out in public. This time, the corners of his eyes shrink, his shoulders shake, his face lights up, he laughs. A million sparks are born and die on Viktor's chest. There's something even worse than butterflies gnawing at his heart. It's not lust. He wishes it was lust. It's a horrible, sickening thing. One that makes Viktor want to hear him do that for the rest of their lives. Oh, what a wonderful life that would be.

Sevika is glaring at him. He should look at her. Say something. Anything.

Whatever expression he's making must be tremendously obvious, because Sevika freezes, a slow, horrified look creeps in her face. There is, also, a smile. It would be funny, if that look didn't reflect Viktor's exact feelings on the matter.

“Oh. Oh. Ohhhh, fuck.” She says, very eloquently.

“Oh, fuck, indeed.” He answers back, suddenly feeling nauseous. "So, Glenda?"

"She's good at what she does. Don't change the topic. Oh, you're fucked. This is so funny. You're absolutely fucked. I know there's at least three boys out there being avenged with this whole situation."

He can't even disagree with her.

[gamerwoman3d]

◜I Need Attention◞

▸ includes: sub-zero [mk1 versions] ◂

Reminder: You CAN use my Mortal Kombat 1 footage for your fanworks! [Icons, fanart, whatever is legal.]

SUB-ZERO

I don't imagine him watching TV often, but when he does it's probably work related. I imagine him watching MMA tournaments and studying other martial arts matches/competitions that happen in parts of the world he can't get to. And I imagine when he's watching a live match, nothing can tear his focus off the combatants. But for a ready lady lover who needs attention, I imagine he would multitask like this -

[Spicy/Explicit after the cut 🔞]

Maybe it's late and you're already in bed together. You can't dictate the schedules of tournaments on the other side of the planet so who knows what time he wakes himself to turn on the TV. Maybe the groans and shouts of the competitors plays softly from the speakers, invading your subconscious before waking you. Or perhaps he has headphones, but reflexively hisses and groans out an "ooh" or "ouch" in sympathy for a wounded contestant. Maybe the audio that awakens you is a mixture of fighter groans and Bi-han's muttering, "should guard your left... your other left, idiot. Mmmm you got lucky."

Either way, imagine waking naked beneath a blanket to the vision of him sitting up in bed, the light of the TV casting a glow over his naked torso. Imagine you get to purr and touch him. Maybe you plant little kisses on his side and tell him you were dreaming about him. Maybe he glances at you and murmurs an apology for waking you from your dream as he pets your hair and draws you against him before he returns his focus to the match.

His hand probably feels good in your hair. He probably smells good and sounds good when he asks about your dream. You see him still focused on the match. You tell him he was licking you in your dream. He grunts absently. You nip him and he doesn't break his gaze from the TV.

But you need attention.

You're horny, you tell him. He tells you there are only a few fights left. Whatever, you're horny and you're horny right now. You tell him you want to masturbate if he's not going to play. You ask if that's okay. He thinks about it a second and says it's fine. Turn up the volume, you tell him.

You play with yourself. Tickling your clit feels better when he's next to you, even if he's not paying attention. He hears you whimper. He turns his head an inch towards you with his eyes locked on the screen. As soon as he can safely spare a glance your way, he looks down at your hand on your pussy for a fraction of a second. His own hand darts down, covers yours. He feels how you play with yourself, then pushes your hand out of the way and takes over. You hold his arm with your wet hand and bury your face in his side, panting. You work your hips and press your clit into his fingertips.

His little strokes are steady, and on the mark. It feels good. Over time it feels better and there can be sudden washes of sensitivity and pleasure in which you find yourself, not cumming, but worked up enough that you're shuddering and whimpering louder - but the second your voice breaks into anything louder than a whisper, the second you sob, his fingers hesitate on you and he peeks at your face. He slows down, goes lighter, selfishly saving you for himself for the end of the match.

The edging can blind you and you can beg him to do it harder or wait patiently for someone to win the fight, content in his arms, content with his steady strokes on your wet, swollen clit. You're too blissed out to know what's happening in the fight or how long you have to wait. You assume you have to wait longer and are surprised by the intensity of the sudden unexpected kiss.

He practically dives on top of you and starts to curl your legs up around him. Did the fights end, you wonder aloud. He tells you it was a quick KO and not to worry about the fight, he knows its over.

All of his attention is on you, as if all of his attention was on your soaking wet, slick pussy the entire time. As if he couldn't wait to cum inside. As if he couldn't wait to make you tell him all about your little wet dream of him while he slides his slick cock back and forth over your swollen clit to lubricate himself in your juices. As if he didn't just edge you so much that you can no longer respond to him in complete sentences without moaning incoherent pleas for him to rail you. You lift your pussy, press the lips against his balls, and let the pink winking folds speak on your behalf, begging him for a mercy that he cannot resist granting you.

[Need more MK1 smut? Check the pin 📌]

[maribellec]

I am offering FREE BETA/ALPHA READINGS!!!

Since I have writer's burnout, I thought maybe now would be a good time to build up a portfolio.

Beta Reading: I'll be reading your work as reader and provide insight of my initial reactions as a reader.

Alpha Reading: I will be reading your work as a writer, providing my reactions and insights to your story. How is your flow, if there are potential plotholes/questions, and overall feedback with a writer's lens.

Things to know:

I am a romance reader and writer.

I will not read stories that have heavy descriptive gore, stories with the purpose of shaming the LGBT+ community, racial groups, and other minorities.

I am open to beta/alpha reading fanfiction.

Feel free to send me a DM here or email me at kuma.kuramata@gmail.com.

I can sign a contract as well for the service--it is always important to protect your work no matter how much you trust a person.

[finleycannotdraw]

Goldenheart question. Who do you think proposes? Ballister or Ambrosius?

Bonus on how they would do it? ✌️🌈

OKAY SO. I thought about this for like five minutes. decided something. and then I changed my mind like five times. and then I was like “hmm. fic time”

I know you just asked for my thoughts but I hope you enjoy this!!

Ballister had a plan.

He loved Ambrosius. Of course he did. He’d loved him when they were classmates at the Institute, loved him when they snuck onto the roof at night to talk, loved him when they became knights, and loved him when the wall came down. He’d loved him for as long as he could remember, so of course he loved him when he looked up from his crossword puzzle and saw Ambrosius dancing in the kitchen, wearing a pair of Ballister’s pajama pants, holding a pancake batter-covered spatula and looking more carefree than he’d looked in months.

He’d marry Ambrosius in a heartbeat. He’d get on a train right then and elope with him if he asked, but he thought his partner deserved something bigger, something romantic, something grand and joyful after all of the stress and responsibility he’d been shouldering since the Director’s demise.

Hence, The Plan.

Nimona had been… mostly helpful. Ballister approached her one afternoon, after Ambrosius had left for work, and sat down across from her. Since the three of them had moved into an apartment together, Nimona had gotten much more comfortable relaxing, which warmed Ballister’s heart.

“What’s up, boss?”

“I want to ask Ambrosius—” he began, and Nimona sat up straight, immediately invested.

“To marry you?” she exclaimed. “Yes. Do it. Why haven’t you done it already.”

Ballister blinked. “I thought you’d be more hesitant about this,” he said slowly. “You used to hate him.”

Nimona waved her hand dismissively. “Ehhh. The past is the past, and all that jazz. Speaking of jazz—”

“No.”

“Ugh, whatever. You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“I didn’t need to.”

“You’re horrible. Anyway, I hated him when all I knew about him was that he cut off your arm. That was before I’d lived with you guys for a year. And it would be pretty hypocritical of me not to be open to changing my opinions about somebody. He makes you happy. You should totally marry him.”

Ballister smiled. “Thank you, Nimona.”

She scoffed affectionately. “Sure, boss.”

And a plan—namely, The Plan, which was the whole point—formed.

Nimona and Ballister flew all over the city looking for parks and possible activities, such as restaurants or shows. Most people had gotten fairly used to the pair of them flying around, Nimona sprouting wings and carrying Ballister above the streets, so they didn’t worry about staying out of sight.

If Ambrosius noticed or thought it was suspicious that Nimona and Ballister constantly went out together and didn’t talk to him about any of it, he didn’t comment. The three of them still had their movie nights and game nights, and Nimona and Ambrosius still had their terrifyingly intense card games (War, Go Fish, Crazy Eights, and several games Ballister had never heard of) that Ballister was forbidden from joining, so altogether not much had changed.

One thing that did change, though, was how often he paused, watched Ambrosius do something completely ordinary, and thought ‘I want to marry this man.’ It happened more and more with each passing day, until Ballister very nearly proposed to him when he walked into the apartment and found Ambrosius standing with his feet on two separate chairs, about three feet apart, holding a collection of colorful paper streamers above his head while Nimona, in the form of a small monkey, perched on the top of his head and put them in place on the wall.

Ballister stared at them for a long moment before he said, very confusedly: “There wasn’t a more efficient way to do this?”

Ambrosius and Nimona turned at the same time, both looking quite delighted despite their precarious position atop the chairs.

“We’re just mixing it up!” they both replied. Ballister looked around. The living room was covered in party decorations and newspaper, and Ballister thought he’d never seen more glitter in his life. He pictured Ambrosius buying a basket full of glitter for whatever party Nimona was planning on throwing, and wouldn’t have been surprised if his heart actually melted.

“What’s the occasion?” he asked.

“I asked Nimona when her birthday was,” Ambrosius explained. “She said she didn’t have one.”

“And if I do, I don’t remember when it is,” Nimona added. Ambrosius threw his hands out to the sides in an emphasizing gesture.

“Which means she’s never had a birthday party,” he continued. “So we decided that today’s her birthday and we’re having a party.”

“Which is just going to be like a normal night except with decorations,” Nimona said. “The glitter was Goldilocks’ idea.”

Ballister raised his eyebrows, and Ambrosius shrugged unabashedly, then turned back to finish putting up the streamers.

Marry me, Ballister thought.

Within the next week, he had everything figured out. He’d looked at the weather for the next few days, planned where they’d go and when, and had even bought a ring, which he’d hidden in his extra pair of running shoes and shoved under the bed. If Ambrosius noticed that Ballister seemed extra nervous or more likely to become agitated if he spent too long in the bedroom by himself, he didn’t comment.

So yes. Ballister had a plan, and it was much more concrete than ‘something something something, we win’. He didn’t have a script, but he had just about everything else. Nothing could possibly get in his way now.

Or so he thought.

One night—there was nothing particularly special about it; they’d had dinner with Nimona, danced and laughed while cleaning the kitchen, and kissed while getting ready for bed—Ballister and Ambrosius were snuggled up together under their blankets. Ballister’s prosthetic arm was hanging from its charger on the wall, so he couldn’t hold Ambrosius as close as he would’ve liked, but the blond knight was lying with his head on Ballister’s shoulder, which gave him room to wrap his left arm around his partner’s back.

Ambrosius moved to tangle his legs with Ballister’s and gave his middle a squeeze, causing Ballister to smile up at the dark ceiling. If he paid attention, he could hear quiet music through the walls from Nimona’s room, and the moon was shining brightly through the window. Ballister carded his fingers through Ambrosius’ hair and breathed deeply.

Ambrosius, after several minutes, pushed himself up onto his elbow so that he could see Ballister’s face. Ballister’s arm slid naturally to rest around his waist, and he wished he had his prosthetic so that he could tap Ambrosius on the nose. Whenever he did so, Ambrosius’ face would scrunch up in the most adorable way possible, and Ballister had no choice but to kiss him.

“Hey,” Ambrosius whispered, as though Ballister hadn’t already been giving him his full attention.

“Hi,” he said in the same quiet tone, and matched Ambrosius’ answering smile. They bumped their noses together and giggled, and Ambrosius flopped to the side, landing on his own pillow. Ballister freed his arm and laced their fingers together, and Ambrosius brought their joined hands to his lips, then rested them on his chest and stroked Ballister’s hand with his thumb.

“Bal?” he said, tilting his head to the side to look into Ballister’s eyes, which he was quite honestly struggling to keep open.

“Hm?”

“Will you marry me?” Ambrosius asked softly, simply, his gaze full of love, exactly the way Ballister had been fighting the urge to ask him for weeks.

“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed, and got out of bed to grab the ring box from his shoe, forgetting that Ambrosius had no idea what he was doing until he sat up, looking worried.

“Bal?” he said again, this time much more guarded. “I’m sorry, what—”

“I was going to propose to you!” Ballister interrupted, opened the box, and shoved it towards his gobsmacked partner, who stared at it in utter shock before looking back to Ballister’s eyes. “I had a plan! And it wasn’t ‘something something something, we win’!”

Ambrosius’ eyes were shiny. “Was it more like, ‘something something something, marry me?’”

Ballister laughed surprisedly and leaned over to plant a kiss on Ambrosius’ lips. “Yes,” he said. “Well, no. I didn’t have a speech.”

“Hence the something-something-something,” Ambrosius teased. “You know, you never answered my—”

“Yes, good Gloreth, yes, I’ll marry you,” Ballister interrupted again. “Though I think you could’ve inferred that from learning that I was going to ask you the same question.”

Ambrosius laughed tearfully, and Ballister kissed him again.

“I’m not taking your last name, though,” he added moments later. “As funny as it is.”

“Nimona would kill you,” Ambrosius agreed. “So would I, probably. I don’t want to keep my last name either. It made for some good jokes, but other than that—”

“Well, Boldheart is nice, but it wasn’t my birth name. You know the Queen gave it to me at the ceremony because somebody—probably the Director—said that Blackheart sounded too dark for a knight?”

“Right,” Ambrosius mused. “What should we do, then?”

“We could combine our last names,” Ballister suggested. “We could be Ambrosius and Ballister—”

“Goldenheart,” Ambrosius finished, and wrapped his arms around Ballister, shaking with laughter, tears, and joy. “I love it.”

“I love you,” Ballister told him, and there was very little talking for the rest of the night.

When morning came, they headed into the kitchen in their pajamas and found Nimona already up, sitting at the table with her headphones on. She appeared to be drawing—likely another action scene with herself as a large animal with Ballister and/or Ambrosius as her murderous accomplice—and didn’t look up as they entered.

“Morning, Nim,” Ambrosius said as he made his way to the coffee machine.

“Goldilocks.” She acknowledged him with a nod, then raised her eyebrows. “Sleep well?”

Ballister held his crossword puzzle up and hid his face behind it while Ambrosius nearly dropped the coffee pot. They both knew that Nimona was over a thousand years old and there was probably very little she hadn’t seen, and even less she wasn’t aware of, but she was so good at acting like a teenager that it was quite easy to forget. She watched their awkward reactions and snickered, but her eyes widened as her attention zeroed in on something on or beside Ambrosius’ hand.

“So, who snapped first?” she asked pleasantly, a wide grin forming on her face.

“Me,” Ambrosius admitted without turning around. “Wait. Who snapped first? You knew he was planning—”

“You knew he was—” Ballister began too, and they both stopped and stared at each other.

Nimona just burst out laughing.

[aizawaskittenwhore]

bedroom stats with armin!

hi guys im back, this is not to b taken seriously but i had to get these lil armin hcs out my drafts so enjoy! <3

content warnings: uh..smut!

yeah that’s about it. let me know if i missed anythin in the notes !

im not gonna say “armin likes missionary because hes shy/inexperienced >.<“ because not only is that played out, it’s not even true!!

armin’s thing is backshots w you on your stomach. pillow underneath you for optimal comfort, but sometimes if he’s in a rush, he doesn’t mind using the wall to serve his purpose

yes there are marks from where your neck and chest have mushed themselves into the drywall, forehead smearing sweat against eggshell paint as you revel in how fucking good he feels

he’s so fucking analytical in everything he does, even down to sex positions and what angles hit deepest when he’s fucking you..

Talks You Through It™️

im so deadass.

he loves watching you shiver as his lips come into range, his breath heady as it ghosts along your nervous system, your body zoned in on the sensation that is armin whispering utter filth as he rocks into you again, and again, and again

“i know, i know—“ you’re pushing his lower stomach in protest, his tip poking and prodding sweet moans out of you, body waivering when he molds himself into your cervix for just a second, retreating only to seemingly go even deeper on the next stroke

“move your fuckin’ hand.” is almost a whisper when he says it. but his voice is so deep and so sensuous when it slithers through you like that. naturally, your hand goes limp

“f-feel you in my stomach..”

“just means i got you to feel good.”

prefers to give over receive, less for you more for him

armin arlert relaxes by slurping up pussy juice and honestly, good for him!

does a lot of grunting during sex but his voice is just so breathy so it comes out angelic as fuck mmm

armin is also a whisperer during sex like he loves watching u shiver when he gets real close, body already being propelled from the momentum of him fucking you but when he starts whispering nasty shit in your ear as though he’s not in your guts???

mm

just mm.

throws his head back when he’s about to cum

yes with a lip bite cause for some strange reason he tries not to moan like you don’t love that shit..but go off i suppose

physically speaking no his dick is not enormous but it really makes no difference cause honey

stroke game gives rock the boat, rock the boat

im sorry i really wanted to add that AHAHA

nah but armin’s coming in at like 6.5 hard

and that’s ok!

also contrary to popular belief armin is an ass man.

it’s something about a nice ass and pair of thighs that’s gonna get him hard without fail, as he should

eats it from the back too

no i will not elaborate further

also loves it when you break script and don’t play along

he’s always had a thing for the “taming a bad girl” fantasy, possibly attributed to his rule-following mentality with everything else, but hey what do i know

calls u “nasty girl” when you’re getting nutted on

rubs it in w the tip after facials..

armin is a freak y’all better act like you know

[unformula1]

Hii! Saw your request for requests. Can we have something with Reader meeting a driver unexpectedly while shopping it partying or working out, whatever and neither one realises the other is a celebrity until they mention it to their friends or coworkers

who…? (OP81 x gn!Reader)

you meet oscar while shopping for clothes, neither of you recognise each other, much to the dismay of your friends. w/c: 936 a/n: hi! if you want any other driver please dont be afraid to ask!!! (masterlist) TW: cluelessness, a few uses of y/n (and one use of y/n_l/n)

Your fingers glide through the row of neatly hung shirts. You stay focused on the shirts, not really caring about anyone else in your surroundings. 

As your sights land on a black graphic tee, you place one hand on the shirt and abruptly stop in your tracks. Before anything else can happen, someone walks directly into you, causing you to stumble back. 

You curse under your breath but look up and sheepishly apologise to the man.

“Sorry-” He says first, with a thick Australian accent no one could miss.

With one hand still on the graphic tee, you nod subtly and apologise.

The man’s eyes are glued on the shirt which you have your hands on. 

One of his hands slides up to the back of his neck as he rubs it, clearly thinking about something.

“Sorry, did you want this shirt?” You ask, to which the man nods.

“Yea- but I mean if you were planning on getting it…” His words slowly descend into just a mumble of sounds.

“It’s just that it has my name on it and I thought it was pretty cool.” The man points to the giant words on the shirt.

“Oscar?” You raise an eyebrow and the man nods rather violently.

“Yea, my name’s Oscar. Piastri. Oscar Piastri, so yea, pretty cool shirt.”

You shrug and hand him the shirt, “Well, you can take it, not like it says y/n or anything…”

“That’s my name.” You clarify and Oscar nods in response.

Oscar takes the shirt from you and smiles, “Thanks.” 

“No problem, have a good day.” You smile as he walks off.

The interaction is clearly not something you were expecting but you continue on your day, picking out another shirt before heading off.

—

“So… anything interesting happen?” Your friend says, leaning back on their chair.

“Yea, I had a weird thing happen at the thrift store.” You say.

“Spill.”

“I was looking at this shirt and then this guy bumped into me and asked me if he could have the shirt since it had his name on it.” You recount.

“What was his name?”

“Oscar. Piastri, or something like that.” You draw random shapes in the air as you speak.

Your friend chokes on her water, almost spitting it onto you.

“Oscar Piastri?”

“Yea, I didn’t know-”

“You met Oscar Piastri?”

“Yes… am I supposed to know him?”

Your friend is exasperated, “And you didn’t like… take a photo or anything?”

“I mean, he didn’t really ask for it, would’ve been pretty weird…”

“THE OSCAR PIASTRI!?”

—

“THE Y/N!” Lando’s jaw is almost on the floor.

“I mean… yes?” Oscar’s shoulders slowly shrug up.

“AND YOU DIDN’T TAKE A PHOTO OR ANYTHING?” Lando screeches with the decibel levels capable of deafening someone.

“Well- it would’ve been weird to just… say that.” Oscar tries to justify.

“THE Y/N? FOURTEEN TIME GRAMMY WINNER?” Lando violently shakes Oscar, “AND YOU DIDN’T EVEN LIKE-”

Lando sighs loudly, clearly unable to form any more coherent sentences.

—

“OSCAR PIASTRI? F1 ROOKIE OF THE YEAR? THE GUY WHO WON THE QATAR SPRINT LAST YEAR? PROBABLY THE BEST F1 ROOKIE?”

Your friend is almost shouting in incoherent sentences.

You cover your ears, “Okay! Chill- I’ll google him or something…”

You take out your phone and google the name ‘Oscar Piastri’. The search results tell you all you need to know about Oscar Piastri. 

“Okay… wow, so my bad on that-” You chuckle awkwardly, “I mean, he was pretty nice.”

“You BETTER somehow, someway get a photo with him!” Your friend grabs your shoulders and shakes you.

“Okay, okay!” You raise your hands in surrender.

Your friend goes to refill her cup of water which leaves you alone, pondering.

Oscar Piastri. He seemed pretty tame, and pretty sweet. Your interaction with him made you feel… an odd sense of comfort, not being begged for photos when all you wanted was to buy clothes.

It was the first time in a while and you kinda liked it.

You take a selfie, and post it to your story.

Your fingers hover over the keyboard.

When you meet THE Oscar Piastri and don’t realise until an hour later.

You chuckle at your own joke. 

ps. nice shirt.

You smile, content with yourself as you post the story, turning off your phone and putting it on the table.

—

Lando shoves the phone in Oscar’s face.

“LOOK!” Lando shrieks.

“The y/n knows you exist!” Lando cheers.

“You better fix this, or maybe I’ll NEVER get a photo with ‘em EVER!” Lando shouts into Oscar’s ear.

Oscar rubs his temples and sighs, “Alright, alright Lando.”

He searches your name on instagram, following you before opening your story and liking it.

He sends a message your way by replying to the story.

oscarpiastri: Hi :) 

He doesn’t really know what else to say.

You hesitate to respond, you think hard about what to say back. You don’t even know what you’re worried about.

y/n_l/n: hello mr oscar piastri.

—

A few months pass and you find yourself standing in a paddock belonging to McLaren.

“Hello 14-time Grammy Winner.” You hear a voice come from behind.

You have to admit, F1 wasn’t something you thought you’d be interested in, yet here you were, with the help of your friend.

“Hello Mr Piastri.” You say and smile when you see him wearing the shirt.

“Guess we should formally introduce ourselves?” He chuckles and you nod.

You clear your throat, “Can I get a photo, Mr Piastri, I’m a huge fan.”

Oscar laughs and pats your shoulder.

“May I get a photo with you?”

[writingwithfolklore]

How to Translate Feedback

              Beta readers are awesome because they see the work strictly from a reader’s perspective. However, this also means that their notes sometimes require a little interpreting to understand how it impacts the craft—translating, one could say.

Every interpretation of a piece is valuable, and often what your readers assume about things, what questions they have, and what they guess comes next is very telling for the messages your piece is delivering and how effective your lines are working together. Let’s get into some common comments you might receive:

“I was confused about this line…”

              Even if the line is explained in the next paragraph, or even the next sentence, don’t disregard this feedback. A confusing line is going to stop up readers, interrupting their mental image of the scene and sometimes concentration on the story. Confusion around a line tends to mean there isn’t enough context to make it feel seamless, or like it fits where it is. You shouldn’t have to be playing catch up with your descriptions.

              Take for example a story I wrote when I was in fourth grade (yes, literally):

Tracy took off her coat as she entered her cabin. She crept across the floor very silently. If she was too loud, she’d wake the howler monkeys and never be able to get to sleep!

              Notice how there’s no context provided for why she’s trying to be quiet, so you kind of get caught up on that line. I would fix it like this:

              Tracy took off her coat as she entered her cabin, eyeing the sleeping monkeys out of her window cautiously. She crept across the floor… etc.

              Now we have context, it reads a lot more seamlessly.

(If they guess something is coming that isn’t)

              This one hurts because I hate feeling like I’m letting down my readers, and an excited “ooh is this foreshadowing??” for something that definitely isn’t coming back up again feels like exactly that. Usually, when a reader guesses at a plot point or character detail that isn’t true or isn’t going to come back up again, it means you drew too much attention to it, making it seem more important than it is.

              I tend to take out the description of the thing, or adjust it so it points less heavily towards one thing and points more towards another. While yes, readers can make incorrect guesses all the time, it’s important to pay attention to where their expectations are being raised—both in the correct places and incorrect ones. Too many disappointments, and your story may leave a sour aftertaste.

“This feels out of character/I don’t understand the motivation”

              When writers get this note, they tend to want to add a paragraph explaining from the character’s POV why they’re doing what they’re doing. Unfortunately, all the explanation in the world isn’t going to fix something that feels out of character or out of the norm. This might mean that you’re trying to force a scene or plot point that doesn’t fit, or that the circumstances aren’t extreme enough to justify your character acting out of sorts.

              Try ramping up the stakes or intensity if a character has to make a tough decision that might seem unlike them—usually a time limit or ticking clock helps here. If you’re only using internal motivation, try adding an external force pushing them towards action (or vice versa).

              If all else fails, consider how you can progress the plot in a different way that’s more in-character.

Shoot me some more common notes you get and maybe we'll do a part 2 :-)