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jinusajas · 4 months ago

Text

03/06/25; 01:07pm

{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }

[ eating you out for the first time ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

there was a predatory gleam seen within sylus's gaze, further darkening his garnet eyes into deep onyx. your breathing hitches in response, feeling as though you were trapped-

unable to escape him when he slowly crawls closer to you, his added weight making the mattress dip. he simply admires your body, raking his eyes down your form with a sense of appreciation before slowly gripping at your ankle. your breathing hitches once more, feeling sylus gently spread your legs even wider for him before settling himself between your thighs.

lifting up the skirt of your nightgown, you tremble upon hearing the way sylus lets out an appreciative whistle. “i can smell your sweetness from here, kitten.” the onychinus leader tells you with a lazy drawl, further causing the heat to settle against your cheeks.

letting out a hum, sylus surges forward, burying his face between your legs while his tongue presses against the damp fabric of your panties. the sensation of his hot mouth against your clothed center makes you arch your back in response, hands already clutching at the silken sheets below you. he continues to tease you, kissing your slick heat through the soft material of your panties.

“ngh… sylus please… need your mouth on me… need your tongue so bad.”

his chuckles causes sweet vibrations to course through you, giving your center another chaste kiss before telling you, “as you wish, sweetie.”

his next actions succeeded in driving you absolutely insane for him, feeling the sensation of his perfect teeth pulling down your panties while allowing it to hang precariously on your right ankle. spreading your legs even further for him, sylus shamelessly breathes in your scent before putting the entirety of his mouth on you.

letting out a desperate cry of his name, you found yourself grinding against his hot mouth, basking in the way his tongue travels inside of your walls made slick with your arousal. he devours you like a man starved, not stopping until he was certain he could drink every last drop of you.

and when you felt him sucking against your swollen clit, you willingly lost yourself to the sensation of your release rushing out of you and into his awaiting mouth.

zayne was interested in performing a few… physical examinations on you, and being none the wiser, you agreed to help him-

however, what you weren’t expecting was to be stripped from the entirety of your clothes, leaving you achingly bare and feeling oh so embarrassed. while you were completely naked for him, zayne was still fully dressed in his usual suit, settling your naked back against the front of his chest when he picks up your form and carries you back to your shared bedroom.

with the full length mirror in sight, zayne sits down while keeping you on his lap. “be a good girl for me and just keep still… i promise i’ll take care of you.”

feeling your walls clench in response to his gentle command, you press the side of your cheek against his chest, feeling zayne slowly spread your legs wide open for him before inserting a finger within your slick. he pumps it in and out of you for a few seconds, relishing in the squelching sounds of your walls surrounding his single digit-

(almost greedily.)

“tch, it’s like you’re sucking me in.” zayne’s voice becomes hoarser, simply admiring the way your juices coat his finger before adding another one into the mix. he was now making scissoring motions from within you, causing you to cry out as you arched your back against his powerful frame.

“look at the mirror, honey. witness yourself falling apart for me.”

letting out heavy gasps, you force your head to turn forward, heart racing while your breathing hitches in response to your reflection. your features were caught in a pleasure daze while watching the way zayne’s fingers eagerly thrust in and out of you, unconsciously spreading your legs even wider for him when he gives your hardened clit a gentle pinch. that simple touch was enough to send you over the edge, with you crying out to zayne before spilling yourself onto his hands.

your breathings were both labored, as your eyes turned hazy, watching as zayne places his hand against his lips before licking away the evidence of your release. a soft groan escapes from him, and you felt a new jolt of pleasure coursing through your veins when he clutches at your naked breast.

“you taste so good…” letting out a gasp of his name the moment zayne pulls at your ankle, forcing you to lay back against the bedroom floor, you swore you could feel the heat settle against your cheeks. just as you sat up to see what he was doing, the moment he places his mouth against your sensitive heat was the moment you knew that it was over for you.

you had a feeling that your beloved doctor wouldn’t be finished with you anytime soon.

it was late in the evening when you decided to read some chapters of your novel, listening to the sounds of your boyfriend showering as you smiled, basking in the simple domesticity of it all.

returning your attention back to your book, you become engrossed in the pages, feeling as though you were living through the story as you read about the heroine’s trials and tribulations. being so focused on your novel, you weren’t aware that xavier had finished his shower and had walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.

the young hunter quietly calls out your name, yet received no answer in response. he frowns a bit, trying to call out to you once more, yet the only sounds heard were of you turning the pages of your novel.

and it was at that moment a brilliant idea struck xavier. tightening the towel around his waist, he slowly crawls toward you, making sure to keep his movements slow and graceful so as to not disrupt your attention from the book. a grin spreads across his lips when he slowly manages to pull down your shorts, revealing your plain, sky blue panties to him.

and you remained blissfully unaware-

that is, until you felt something calloused and slender making its way inside of your center. “w-what? xavier, is that you?”

the philos prince merely chuckles in response, for who else could it be but him? “don’t mind me, starlight. just go back to your book.”

had you not been so distracted by your novel, you would have detected the way xavier’s voice became hoarse, thick with desire for you while eagerly breathing in your scent. he basks in the sweetness that wafts off of you, knowing that it was enough to make his mouth water in response.

feeling impatient now, xavier pulls down your panties in one swift motion, earning a gasp from you. “xavier?!”

but xavier doesn’t hear you, not in the slightest when he suddenly surges forward to press his hot mouth against your slick heat. your gasps immediately turn to moans just then, feeling the way xavier’s hot tongue invades at your slick walls, drinking up your honeyed arousal.

had xavier not been so drunk off of the sheer taste of you, he would have smirked victoriously at the sound of your book falling to the ground, already forgotten as your attention was finally focused on him alone.

you were barely focused on the movie that was playing on the screen the moment rafayel pulls you down on his face, remaining beneath you on the couch as he gave your aching cunt a series of heated kisses.

you brace yourself against the sofa’s armrest, practically riding rafayel’s face as the movie simply served as background noise. your soft moans of desperate mewls of his name echo throughout the living room, yet you were too far gone to even realize it.

his tongue kept tracing at the outer lips of your cunt, kissing at your center with an eagerness that takes your very breath away. each new thrust that came from his mouth brings a new wave of pleasure from you, making you feel the way your walls clenched around the tip of his tongue.

your juices kept coating rafayel’s tongue, making him groan in response as he quickly became addicted to the sheer taste of you. you kept riding his face, chasing that high you were so close to achieving-

and when you felt the lemurian gently biting down against your swollen bundle of nerves, you lost all of your self control, spilling yourself into his awaiting mouth while letting out a cry of his name. he drinks up all that you had to offer, letting out an appreciative grunt before giving your pussy one final kiss.

you were still trembling in the aftermath, allowing rafayel to remove your heat from his face. as he sits back on the couch, a lazy grin was seen spreading across his handsome face. you give him a questioning glance, only to feel your walls clench even further in response to his next words,

“that was great having you ride my face, cutie. now, how about you ride my cock instead?”

the sounds of your moans echo throughout caleb’s apartment, with you locked away within his bedroom as he spoiled you with complete and utter pleasure for your homecoming.

it had been a few months since you had last seen him, with the two of you being busy with your own responsibilities to do anything outside of video calls. however, since you were able to take some time off, you decided to surprise caleb with an unexpected visit. you had only seen a glimpse of caleb wearing a regular shirt with some grey sweatpants before you were immediately pulled into his home.

he says nothing to you, simply leading you back to his room while slamming it shut. all you could do was follow his commands, wishing to please him when he tells you to get on your hands and knees for him. you had expected him to rip off your sundress and panties before pressing the tip of his cock into you-

so imagine your surprise when he simply pulls down your panties while laying beneath you, hands gripping at your waist before bringing you down on him. you felt the sinful sensation of his tongue traveling deep inside of you, as if wishing to drink up the entirety of your honeyed arousal. feeling his hot kisses against your aching cunt makes you feel a dizzying amount of pleasure, never wanting him to stop.

caleb continues to play with your body, eliciting soft moans from you like he was playing an instrument. and when your colonel adds a thick finger within your heat, you lost all sense of coherency, releasing yourself into his hot and awaiting mouth.

your climax causes you to tremble in response, and you were ready to lay back down and rest when caleb suddenly continues his relentless ministrations on you. “c-caleb, what are you d-doing, i already… hah… c-came!”

a rich chuckle was heard coming from caleb, and you shiver when slowly removes his lips away from your sensitive cunt, “and what’s your point, babe? i have no intention of stopping until i make you cum at least 10 more times before giving you my cock.”

with those words (along with a particularly hard smack! felt against your ass) caleb dives right back into your sensitive heat, making you nearly release on the spot as you drunkenly thought to yourself-

eight more to go…

end notes: don’t mind me, i’m just a thirsty girlie 🙂‍↕️ not edited yet but i’m just so lazy, so just deal with my unhinged musings for now ♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

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landologged · 3 months ago

Text

GG, Norris

Pairing: lando × gf!reader

Genre: graphic smut, oral sex (m → f) under a desk ;), semi‑public/twitch risk, brat‑taming, dom!lando & mouthy reader, humiliation kink, breeding talk, dirty talk, possessive behaviour, consensual power play, established relationship

Description: Lando’s been a gremlin all day—yanking your hoodie strings, tossing socks, and chirping over you every chance he gets. When he goes live, you crawl beneath the rig and silence him with your mouth while thousands watch none the wiser. He tries to keep composure; you dismantle it. Stream ends, revenge flips to punishment, and somewhere between the threats and the afterglow he whispers the kind of promise that could ruin you in the best way.

notes: im not sorry, word count is 5k

Lando’s been insufferable all day—mouthing off with that cocky little smirk like he doesn’t deserve to be dropkicked down a flight of stairs. He kept poking at you—tugging your hoodie drawstring when you were mid-sip of coffee, talking over you just to mimic your voice, tossing socks at you from across the room like some feral child. And now, the little shit’s live on Twitch, backlit in RGB glow like some overgrown gamer gremlin, laughing with Max like they’re both not moments away from divine punishment.

You slink past his racing rig and stupid ergonomic chair, a silent predator in sweats and a tank top that’s just a bit too tight. The headset muffles the rest of the world for him—he doesn’t notice the shift in weight behind his desk, doesn’t register the flicker of your eyes or the deliberate arch of your brow as you crawl under the desk like you own the fucking thing.

Max is saying something idiotic through the tinny headset—Lando’s wheezing, practically giggling, “Nahhh mate, I’d still smoke you even if you had DRS in bed.”

Instead of answering, you let your hand drift down, slow and mean, gliding from your own knee across the dark stretch of space beneath the desk until your fingertips graze his leg. He doesn't flinch—yet—too caught up in his smug little monologue to clock the shift. But then your palm flattens against the inside of his thigh, deliberate, claiming. Warmth bleeds through the cotton like ink in water, slow and spreading, and you dig in just enough to let him know you’re not here to be cute. The laughter catches in his throat mid-sentence. His voice jumps a full octave, cracking like a teenager's as he fumbles, tries to swallow the noise back before Max notices– which he fails.

Max pauses. “What was that?”

Lando’s legs stiffen beneath your hand. You feel the tension coil all the way up to his hip, a ripple of sheer panic trying to mask the unmistakable pulse already starting to throb under your fingers. His joggers do little to hide the way he’s swelling, thickening, betraying every ounce of self-control he thought he had.

“Uh—a hiccup.” Lando's laugh is sudden and high-pitched, edged with panic. His hand instinctively drops to his lap but stops short, unsure what to do with it. “I think I’m choking—on water. Gimme a sec.”

You hum, low and deliberate, a sound more vibration than voice, letting it roll up from your chest and sink straight into the fabric between his legs. Your mouth opens against the outline of him, plush lips parting just enough to press—not a kiss, not quite. Just heat. You drag your mouth along the length of him through his joggers, every inch a slow, possessive claim, like you’re mapping him out for future destruction. Tongue sliding flat, letting the fabric soak it up, just damp enough to cling to the shape of him.

His cock twitches, eager and betrayed, shifting under the thin material like it’s trying to reach you, to meet you halfway. You don’t speed up. Oh no, you slow down, mouthing him like he’s a lollipop you’re too mean to unwrap. Teeth graze, barely, just enough for nerves to spark awake and skin to goosebump beneath the cotton. The heat of your breath sinks in like a bruise, and when you do it again—open-mouthed, tongue curling under the head through the joggers like you’re licking sugar off the skin of an apple—he breaks. His breath punches out in a strangled hitch, hips jolting forward like the instinct’s not even his own. His legs tense around you, thighs stiffening against your shoulders, not to push you away, never that—but to brace, to survive whatever the fuck this is turning into.

You can feel the way he’s trying to keep still, failing spectacularly. The way his knees tremble just slightly, muscles locking like a man standing on the edge of something deep and slick and inevitable. And you haven’t even gotten his pants down yet.

“...You good?” Max again.

“Y-Yeah. Yeah, just—hydrate or die-drate, innit?” His accent falters on the last syllable as you tug his waistband down, just enough. Just enough for your nails to dig in a little, for your lips to ghost over skin that’s already twitching with anticipation.

You look up, watching his face from the shadows beneath the desk, the glow from the monitor painting him in sinful outlines—blue along his jaw, red flickering in his eyes like he’s caught fire from the inside. His lips are parted, plush and trembling, his tongue darting out to wet them like that’ll help him speak normally through the chaos boiling in his bloodstream. His eyes are glassy, lashes fluttering fast, and his jaw is clenched so tight you can see the tension twitch at the hinge, like he's physically holding himself together with spit and prayer.

He’s trying to look normal—like this is still just a stream, just banter, like he isn’t seconds from sliding out of his own skin. But he’s fucking awful at it. That smug little posture is gone, replaced with a boy unraveling in real time, held together by a desk and a prayer and your mouth hovering dangerously close to the one thing he absolutely cannot control.

He mutes himself with a frantic click of the hotkey.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” he hisses, voice low, shredded, already fraying at the edges. His breath fans hot over his mic.

You smirk against him. “Keep playing, Norris.”

Then you sink your mouth around him, slow and possessive, and he keens—silent, jaw clenched hard as his head drops back against the chair.

Yeah. He’s not making it out of this stream alive.

You hollow your cheeks, tongue dragging slow and deliberate—like you’ve got all the time in the world and none of it belongs to him. Lando’s hips twitch, one foot knocking into the desk leg with a soft thud that rattles his fancy mic arm. Panic flashes across his face, barely contained, the kind that screams this is the best and worst idea we’ve ever had and I’m gonna cum in thirty seconds and Max is gonna hear it live.

“You alright, bro?” Max’s voice filters through the headset again, casual, cruelly unaware.

“Yup. Peachy.” Lando’s voice is an octave too high. “Just, stretching.”

“Sounded like your desk kicked back, mate.”

You almost laugh, the sound curling at the back of your throat, smothered by the weight of him on your tongue. He’s heavy, twitching, a pulse stuttering beneath the sensitive skin you're dragging your mouth along with surgical precision. But there's no room for giggles—not when he’s splintering in your hands like this, breaking down second by second.

His grip on the armrests is brutal, white-knuckled like the chair might fly off into orbit if he doesn’t anchor himself. Fingers twitching, veins standing out on the backs of his hands like cords about to snap. He looks like he’s bracing for a fucking crash landing, every muscle drawn tight, thighs trembling against your shoulders, breath locked high in his chest like he's afraid if he exhales, he’ll cum right there.

And his neck—oh, his fucking neck. It's flushed, blooming red like spilled wine, the color crawling up from beneath the loose collar of his hoodie and painting its way up the column of his throat to his jawline, delicate and obscene. Like someone hit him with shame and turned the heat to maximum. It’s arousal in high-def, the kind that leaves no mystery—just raw, visual confession. Every time your mouth moves, the flush deepens, his head tips back a little more, and you can see the exact moment he forgets what his own name is.

He unmutes for a second—rookie mistake. “So yeah, like, turn three’s actually—” inhale, hiss, muted again.

Your teeth graze just enough to make his whole body jolt. You can feel the curse bubbling in his throat but he swallows it back with the desperation of a man on the brink. He’s trying to look normal, trying to hold a conversation while his girlfriend is under the desk sucking the literal soul out of him. You feel the curse rise up in his throat, bubbling hot and mean behind clenched teeth. But he swallows it—forces it down with the kind of restraint that hurts to watch. He’s holding onto that last shred of composure like it’s a lifeline, trying to sit still, trying to keep talking, keep nodding, keep pretending this is just another stream.

You see it all—feel it all. The twitch of his stomach, the locked tension in his knees, the way his chest is rising faster than before like he’s run a lap with his mic still on. He’s dying. Glorious, twitching, overstimmed death-by-girlfriend, right there on Twitch dot TV.

Max is talking about tire strategies now. You could not care less.

Lando’s trembling like a leaf in a wind tunnel, one hand inching under the desk like maybe, maybe he can tap out, call a time-out, beg for mercy. But you swat his hand away, sink deeper onto him, and he fucking chokes.

You let up, just a little, lips slick, your voice hushed and syrupy sweet. “Something wrong, babe?”

“Y—You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You grin up at him. “Good. Maybe Max’ll do your eulogy.”

And then you go back down, faster this time, twisting your wrist just enough to make him arch off the chair like he’s been tasered. His breathing’s fucked—shallow, staccato, gasping like he’s drowning in it. Every exhale sounds like it costs him something, punched out in ragged little hiccups, broken up by the frantic clench of his abs as he tries—fails—to keep still. His thighs are shaking now, twitching against your shoulders, his hips stuttering forward helplessly every time your throat flexes around him.

You feel him throb against your tongue, thick and twitching, precum slicking the back of your throat as he tips further into sensory collapse. He’s close. Too close. He knows it. You know it. His body’s already betraying him, every nerve lighting up like someone tripped the emergency alarm.

He mutes again—fingers slapping the hotkey with blind desperation—and croaks out a whisper through clenched teeth, like he’s physically fighting his own orgasm just to speak. “You’re actually evil. You’re—fuck—this is—oh my god.”

Your nails dig into the skin above his knees. You want him to feel every inch of it. Humiliated. Helpless. Falling apart on stream with that good-boy face, talking strategy with Max while your mouth is swallowing his soul inch by inch. He wanted to be smug. Wanted to sass. So, he got what he deserved, streaming in front of thousands with that innocent little “I’m just gaming, guys” voice while his cock’s buried in your throat and his world’s turning to static.

Max keeps talking.

Lando continues spiraling. You, however, keep going, until his legs are trembling like Bambi’s on ice, until he clamps a fist over his own mouth and stifles a moan that might have gotten him permanently banned off Twitch.

“Fuck—fuck, I’m gonna—”

You don't stop. Of course you don't. His thighs are tensing around you like a vice, breath coming in ragged, clipped gasps, and all you do is suck harder—deeper. You flatten your tongue, hollow your cheeks, twist your wrist at the base just enough to grind against that sweet spot, right where your lips meet your hand, and that's it.

His whole body seizes. One sharp inhale—then silence. His jaw drops open, eyes wide and glassy, pupils blown to hell, and the only sound he manages is this strangled, high-pitched gasp like his entire soul is getting yanked out through his dick.

He comes hard. Violently. No buildup left, no warning, no cool-off—just one catastrophic surge that hits so fast it nearly knocks his headset clean off. The mic light’s still blinking red, but it's not picking up anything coherent—just the wet, broken gasps of a man short-circuiting live on stream. His hips buck once, twice, a desperate, instinctive jerk that punches him further down your throat. His hand scrabbles at the edge of the desk like he's trying to grip onto reality. He doesn’t make a sound—and that silence is deafening.

You feel it—every pulse, every twitch, the thick, hot spurt flooding your mouth like his body’s trying to drain itself in one brutal release. You swallow around it, greedy and unrelenting, and he whimpers. Honest to god, a full-body shiver rips through him, like you just unplugged something vital and he’ll never reboot the same again.

When it's over, he slumps. Muted. Boneless. Useless.

“…You okay, Lando?” Max asks.

Lando clears his throat. “Just finished.”

There’s a pause.

“…The race?” Max says, confused.

Lando closes his eyes. “Yeah. That.”

You lick your lips and crawl back out from under the desk, smug as hell, like you didn’t just commit several crimes beneath the camera frame. You lean in, peck his cheek, and whisper, “Next time, don’t throw your sock at me.”

He exhales like he’s seen god. Or you. Same thing, really.

He shuts down the stream like he’s defusing a bomb—mouse click too loud, movements too stiff, the awkward silence after Max’s “alright, catch you later, bruv” hanging in the room like smoke. The second OBS fades out and the little red dot of "Live" disappears from the corner of his screen, Lando leans back in the chair with the slowness of someone trying very, very hard not to look like he just got soul-snatched under his own desk on the main stage of the internet.

His head rolls toward you.

That look of ungodly levels of boyish spite. The kind that comes from being publicly humbled in the most private way possible.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” he says, voice rough, lazy, dragging over gravel and sin. His eyes track you like you’re prey. “Think you’re clever, crawling under my desk like that, nearly got me banned.”

You smile. Innocent. Shrug like, what, me?

And that’s apparently the wrong answer. Lando stands up so fast his chair screeches against the floor, and you don’t even have time to register the chaos before his fingers are digging into your hips and he’s spinning you around, walking you back, back, back until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed and—

You drop like a rock.

He follows, covering you in one smooth motion like a storm front rolling in, all hot breath and twitchy hands and revenge written across his grin.

“You wanna be a brat?” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded, already undoing the hoodie you stole from his closet like he’s got a personal vendetta against it. “Then you’re going to get treated like one.”

“You’re so dramatic,” you tease, breath hitching as he peels the hoodie off and tosses it somewhere across the room like it insulted his whole bloodline.

“I’m a victim, actually.” He pins your wrists down, pushes his knee between your thighs and forces them apart, slow and deliberate. “Live on camera. Absolutely violated. Twitch chat saw me ascend.”

“They only saw your face.”

“And you saw god. So now it’s your turn.”

You try to sass something back—I already did the work or you’re welcome or something equally stupid—but he cuts you off with a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue, no finesse, just need—raw and immediate. He bites your bottom lip hard enough to make you gasp, then chases that sound into your mouth like he’s trying to steal it. It’s messy, greedy, spit-slicked and heady, full of consequences you feel before you even fully register them. His tongue slides against yours, fast, dirty, dominant, like he’s fucking your mouth just to shut you up.

Your thoughts scatter like coins dropped down a storm drain. You barely register the way his hands move until they’re already on you—fingers sliding down your arms in a slow drag that makes your skin light up, trailing heat to your wrists, your sides, your hips. Then he grips. Not gentle. Claiming. Thumbs digging in just above the curve of your ass, yanking you into place with an ease that makes your breath stutter.

He adjusts your body like you’re just a piece of the equation he’s solving. Angles your legs wider. Tilts your pelvis. Lines your hips with his like a weapon locking into its holster. Every motion says mine. Every shift says you’re not getting away.

“No escaping this one,” he mutters against your mouth, already rutting into you like the world’s ending and it’s somehow your fault. “Gonna make you fucking feel it.”

And then he’s rutting into you, grinding hard, slow, mean, the thick line of his cock dragging against you through too much fabric, not nearly enough friction. His hips roll like he’s trying to fuck the regret out of you before he’s even inside, like it’s your fault the world’s on fire and he’s the only one allowed to burn you down.

His hand slides down between you like he’s tuning a high-stakes radio, all intent and zero patience, fingers greedy as sin and twice as confident. He doesn’t hesitate, just slides them under the waistband like he owns the access, the privilege—and fuck, he finds it instantly. Wet. Soaked. You feel the shift in him the moment he registers it—his whole expression flickering into something darker, meaner, more satisfied.

“Ohhh,” he purrs, dragging the word out like he’s tasting it, that fucking grin spreading across his face like oil in water. A menace. A brat. A smug little demon who just found gold under your panties. “Look who’s not so innocent now, huh?”

You scowl up at him, even though it takes everything in you not to arch into the touch. Your breath catches the moment his fingers glide between your folds, slow and maddening, like he’s just checking inventory. Like he’s confirming, with smug fingers and a smirk, that you’re soaked through and so goddamn ready it’s embarrassing.

“I was innocent,” you snap, biting the inside of your cheek to hold composure, “until you started acting like a fucking gremlin all day.”

He doesn't even blink—just grins wider, proud and wicked. “I am a gremlin,” he says, dipping just the tip of one finger in, a slow, cruel tease that makes your thighs twitch. His eyes are locked on yours, watching every flicker of reaction with sick delight, like this is his favorite game and he’s already ten moves ahead. “But you—you crawled under the desk, babe. You woke the demon up. You knew what you were doing.”

“I was avenging myself. It was emotional warfare.”

He laughs—really laughs, head tossed back for a second before he looks down again, still grinning but now it's dark, calculated. “Yeah? We’ll see about that, darling.”

And then he pushes in—two fingers, deep and sudden, no warning, no teasing, just a hard, unapologetic thrust that knocks the air right out of your lungs. The stretch is immediate, obscene, that thick press opening you up so fast your body has no time to think, only react. You gasp, sharp and strangled, hips jerking up into his hand like you’ve been electrocuted. Your nails sink into his arm on instinct, clutching like he’s the only solid thing keeping you from short-circuiting completely. Muscles flutter around his fingers, slick and clenching, already threatening to pull him deeper, to take more, even as your brain tries to catch the fuck up.

“Oh—fuck—Lando—”

“That's the one.” He curls his fingers just so, smirking down at you like a man who just found nuclear launch codes in his back pocket. “You sound so much cuter when you’re not trying to be a little shit.”

You shoot him a glare, trying to form something savage and witty to bite back with, but all that comes out is a broken whimper as he starts pumping his fingers in and out, fast, obscene, squelching sounds already filling the room like he’s making a fucking smoothie with you. You slap a hand over your mouth, scandalized.

“Oh no you don’t,” he growls, grabbing your wrist and pinning it beside your head. “You made me suffer silently on stream. Now you’re gonna sing for me.”

“Y-You’re insane,” you pant, legs spreading wider without meaning to, traitorous body arching off the bed into his hand like a slutty heat-seeking missile.

“Yeah,” he agrees easily, thumb flicking your clit now in tight, fast circles, the way he knows makes you go from sassy to needing an exorcism in under thirty seconds. “You made me come so hard I hit a Windows error sound. You don’t get to talk shit.”

You try. You really try to keep up the banter, to sass something, anything—but he thrusts his fingers in deeper, and your voice cracks into a moan that embarrasses you on a spiritual level. Like the neighbors are gonna know kind of level.

“Thaaaat’s better,” he murmurs, face hovering just over yours, warm breath brushing your cheek. “That’s my good girl. What happened to all that backtalk, huh?”

You hiss through your teeth, grinding against his hand now like a bitch in heat, shameless. “Y-You’re cheating—using your—skills—”

He chuckles, so cocky it hurts. “Uh-huh.”

He pulls his fingers out just as your legs start shaking, cruel bastard that he is, and you let out a noise that could get you arrested in three countries. He sucks those fingers into his mouth, exaggerated, obscene, humming like you’re fine wine and he’s a connoisseur.

Then he’s sliding his boxers down, slow and casual like he’s got all the time in the world—like his cock isn’t flushed dark and aching, already rock fucking hard, already glistening at the tip with precome that beads thick and lazy along the curve of him. It bobs up against his stomach as the fabric clears it, twitching with every heartbeat, a full display of just how wrecked he still is and just how far from finished.

You can’t stop staring. Can’t help it. The way he’s thick and veiny, that curve you know too well, the flushed red of his tip already wet enough to make your mouth water—it’s mean, the way your body reacts without permission, clenching tight like it’s starving for him. Your thighs shift, instinctual and desperate, a slow rub for friction he hasn't even allowed yet.

“What?” he says, tone light, mock-innocent, voice still gravel from groaning your name minutes ago. His hand wraps around the base of his cock and gives it a lazy stroke, slow enough to show off, smearing his own slick over the shaft while his eyes dare you to break. “You gonna apologize yet?”

He punctuates it with a little flick of his wrist—just enough to make a drop of precome slide down the underside, thick and slow.

“Never,” you spit. “Die mad about it.”

Your voice is sharp, but your cunt is soaked, needy, betraying every ounce of sass with a slick heat that clings to him as he shifts closer. He just laughs—low, smug, dangerous—like he’s already decided you’ll be swallowing those words in moans.

Then he lines himself up. His hand wraps around the base of his cock, guiding it down between your thighs with excruciating slowness. The head drags along your folds, thick and pulsing, smearing you open with the kind of pressure that makes your back arch off the bed on reflex. It’s not even in yet—not really—but your whole body shudders, already anticipating the stretch, the slide, the ruin.

“Oh,” he grins, cockhead nudging your soaked entrance, hips rolling forward just enough to catch—not push, not yet, just press. That dangerous little tease of what's coming. “I plan to.”

And he grinds it there, circling slow, obscene, just enough to coat himself in you. Just enough to make your breath stutter and your legs fall open wider, helplessly, hungrily, like your body’s given up on pride entirely. Your clit’s aching from the friction, nerves lighting up with every teasing pass of his swollen tip.

He watches you squirm beneath him, his grin sharpening like a blade. “Hope you’re ready to scream that apology when I’m buried in your guts.”

And then—he pushes.

Slow.

So fucking slow. Not even a thrust—just pressure, the barest push of the head breaching you, thick and deliberate, like he’s forcing your body to recognize him all over again. Like he’s marking every nerve ending with the stretch. Your mouth drops open but nothing comes out—just breath. Just need.

He’s watching your face the whole time, drinking in every flicker of it—your brows twitching, lips parting, that helpless little tremble that crawls up your spine when your body realizes what’s happening. That he’s really doing this. Slow-fucking you like a punishment. Not to be kind. To hurt you in the best fucking way.

The head of his cock pops past the tight ring of resistance, and your whole body jolts like a live wire’s been jammed up your spine. He hisses through his teeth at the way you clench, how fucking wet you are, how you grip him like you don’t want him to leave.

“Ohhh, f-fuck—look at that,” he groans, barely able to speak through the pressure. “She’s pulling me in already. What a fucking slut.”

Then he sinks in another inch—slow, torturous, dragging the thick weight of him against walls already fluttering in anticipation. You gasp, toes curling, nails digging into the sheets like you can anchor yourself to something, anything, before he breaks you. Every ridge, every vein along his shaft feels like it’s scraping against your sanity in slow-motion.

“God, you're tight,” he growls, voice frayed at the edges, forehead resting against yours now, sweat already gathering at his hairline. “You feel that? Every inch, baby. You asked for this.”

And still—he doesn’t thrust.

He feeds it to you, inch by aching inch, until you're stretched wide, stuffed full, practically shaking beneath him. Your cunt spasms around him, greedy and desperate, and the noise you make—high, cracked, needy—goes straight to his fucking ego.

“Fuck, you’re gonna break,” he whispers, voice all grit and glory. “Should I make it worse?”

And then—he slams forward.

One brutal thrust, all the way in, balls flush against you, the sound of skin meeting skin loud and filthy as it echoes through the room. Your scream is instant. He grins like the devil who just cashed a bet.

“Good,” he growls, pulling back just enough before hammering in again, harder. “Let’s see how long you last.”

Your scream barely fades before he’s thrusting again, harder this time, fucking you with that brutal rhythm that says he’s not pacing himself—he’s taking you. His cock slams into you again and again, thick and slick and relentless, dragging a fresh cry out of your throat every time his hips smack against yours.

And he’s talking now—low, filthy, breathless filth right into your ear, every word rough and ragged and soaked in something feral.

“Fuck—you feel that?” he grits out, his hips stuttering just enough to grind that thick cockhead right up against your cervix. “You’re milking me. Gonna make me come in you like it’s fucking biological.”

You claw at his back, eyes rolling, mind fogged with nothing but sensation—his cock splitting you open, heavy balls smacking your ass, every thrust punching your thoughts out through your mouth in gasped curses and broken moans.

He grabs your jaw, forces your gaze back to him. Eyes locked.

“Nah—look at me,” he pants, sweat dripping from his temple, lips wet, voice shaking. “Gonna make you mine for real.”

Then his grip tightens, hand splayed wide over your lower belly like he’s feeling himself from the outside, like he wants to watch his cock bulge under your skin.

“Gonna breed you,” he snarls. “Fuck a baby into you. You hear me?”

You whimper, thighs locked around his hips, cunt spasming around him like your body’s already begging for it—please, fill me, mark me, ruin me.

“I’ll fucking marry you,” he groans, burying himself to the hilt, holding there, twitching deep inside you. “Swear to god. Put a ring on your finger and a kid in your belly.”

Then he pulls back and pounds in again—once, twice, three savage thrusts—wet, deep, loud—and you feel it, that telltale twitch, that low growl in his chest, the way his abs seize against your stomach.

He’s close.

“Gonna fucking fill you up,” he growls, voice raw, ragged, forehead pressed to yours. “You’ll feel it for days—my cum dripping down your thighs, stuck so deep inside you, it’s not going anywhere.”

And then—he breaks.

One final thrust, deep, forced so far into you your legs snap around him and your body locks down, clenching tight—

He roars your name, hips jerking, cock buried deep as he comes—thick, hot, endless. Spurting in waves, flooding your pussy with so much cum you feel it seeping out around him, warm and filthy and perfect.

“Fuckfuckfuck—take it, take all of it,” he groans, shivering against you, cock still twitching, still pumping as he rides it out, thrusting slow and shallow, like he’s grinding his claim into your womb.

His body trembles above yours, slick skin clinging, muscle taut then gone soft as he slumps forward, breath crashing into the crook of your neck. Not all the way gone, not yet—he gives one last lazy grind, a roll of his hips that makes you twitch and sigh against him, the pressure just enough to drag a whimper from your throat.

The comedown hits you both like a sucker punch made of glitter and gravity—one second he’s practically growling into your throat, the next he’s collapsed on top of you like a glorified space heater, sweaty, heavy, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like “fuckin’ deserved that, didn’t I…”

You wheeze under his weight. “You’re crushing me, Norris.”

“I’m post-orgasmic and vulnerable. Be gentle.”

“You just tried to breed me like a feral raccoon.”

“Yeah but emotionally?” he slurs, nuzzling his cheek into your collarbone like he’s recharging. “I’m a soft boy inside.”

You groan and reach up to push his sweat-damp curls out of his face. “Yeah, yeah, you are.”

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potchi-fics · 6 months ago

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note: mhhmmpffhmmhfpphfmmm, also it's 3:50 am here when i finished writing this (w/o the good boy for the folks out there, here's the link, all of my g!p works will be posted in there.) tw; g!p vi, use of good boy, backshots

vi’s libido is exceptionally high—especially when it comes to you and you only. you have the power to turn her on, to make her dick so hard, it’ll leave her aching, needy, and whiney. you could be bending to get something you baked from the oven, or press your tits on her arms to show her something, or just wear shorts that reveal your thighs.

her eyes have never shined so brightly. her dick gets harder and harder every time. the moment you step out of your shared bathroom wearing just her shirt and underwear—she is gone.

“vi, how are you turned on right now,” her hands roam your body, still slightly damp from a shower, “you seriously cannot be turned on.”

she kisses your neck, vi’s front making contact against your back, leading you to lean your head to the side, giving her more access.

vi whines out, her hips grinding on your backside, hissing at the small pleasure, “please, baby. can’t help it,” your hand lands on her hips as she begins to grind, letting you feel her cock through her shorts, “you make me feel so good.”

“vi–” you feel fingers at the garters of your underwear, eyes widening once she pulls it down, pooling around your midthighs.

well, good thing your libido is higher, yeah?

she pushes you towards the end of your bed, making you land on your knees. and without even a second thought, vi flattens her tongue on your pussy, toes curling at the sudden pleasure. her thumb circles your clit at an agonizingly slow pace, but her tongue, god, her tongue is doing wonders to you.

a squeal escapes your throat when you feel her push in, hands gripping the sheets. vi’s groans serve as a vibration and it adds to the pleasure she’s giving you. she pulls her tongue out, licking down to replace her thumb. she alternates between sucking and giving your clit kitten licks.

“ne-need you inside, vi,” your mewls and whimpers spur her on, eyes shut, “inside, hurry.”

obeying like a soldier, she quickly slips two fingers inside of your sopping cunt, groaning at the warmness and tightness of you. vi curls her fingers, her tongue doing circles on your clit.

the feeling of the tip of her fingers prodding on your g-spot makes your entire body quiver in need. you wet your sheets with your drool, face digging deeper into, crescent-like marks appearing on your palms with how tight you grip.

vi is no better; her shorts are ruined, the head of her cock dripping with precum. her cock itself is already sensitive, pulsing and twitching inside the material, straining against it.

“vi, baby,” your voice is muffled, barely gasping your words out, “need you inside. your cock.”

you turn your head to stare at her—the big bad wolf of zaun is broken, disheveled: hair is tussled, body coated in sweat, eyes needy. she pulls down her shorts just enough for her dick to slip out, slapping against her navel, and the tip just a little bit shorter than the patch of red hair.

your eyes glint dangerously under the light, face holding a barely contained smirk; you’ve got her wrapped around your finger.

she grips the base of her cock, slapping it on your wet cunt, making another whimper escape you. vi slowly slips the head of her cock, biting her lip at the sight of you welcoming her. you bury your face into the mattress once more, attempting to at least suppress your noises.

you can cum with how her dick slides into you, how she goes deeper and deeper, ever so slowly; letting you feel her thickness, the veins.

vi whines when you clamp down on her the moment the back of your thighs meets her own, “baby, so tight.” she brings the hem of her tanktop to her mouth, biting it to keep it from covering your pussy, “gripping me so good.”

“move.”

vi rocks her hips, you refuse to let go of her. her thumbs press down on your back dimples, using your body as leverage to pump your cunt on her dick. unconsciously, you spread your legs wider, arching your back a little more, pushing back against her.

every time she pulls out, only to thrust back in, it makes your eyes roll. with the way she’s moving, you can feel it deep in your pussy, the head of her cock dragging itself on your walls—you’re already convulsing in pleasure.

vi changes her pace, faster and harder, slamming into you like she’s about to put a baby in you. she bites down into her shirt, seeing your slick on her dick encourages her to fuck you harshly.

your unfocused gaze lands back at her, “i think i’m about to cum already, baby,” vi’s surprised gaze, hazed even, bores into you, “mh-hmm… you make me feel so good, vi. such a good boy for me.”

she shudders at your praise, abdomen flexing, her dick twitching inside of you. she pulls you up by your arms, your back still arching as she pushes her hips into yours, forcing her dick to go deeper.

she pulls out until her tip’s only what’s left inside of you before slamming back in. she wraps one hand around your throat, attacking your neck with bites and kisses, leaving marks that’ll last for days.

you’re letting out sinful and unforgivable noises, throat beginning to get sore, but neither of you cares. you lean your head back on her shoulder, a hand going up to caress the back of her head, grasping her hair to ground yourself.

“make me cum, baby, rub my clit,” to help you get over the edge, she gives attention to your puffy clit, rubbing it, her cock splitting you thin, “just like that, vi.”

vi’s shudders again, holding back her orgasm just for you. she speeds up, a yelp emitting from you. you are just so tight, so warm, so good. your pussy sucks her cock in like a succubus, you’re milking her.

she feels your chest heave excessively, broken whispers of her name—her eyes are tightly shut close, and she’s cumming. she cums like a hose, filling you up to the brim with her cum. with each spurt, she thrusts; you love it. you love it so much that you’re going over the edge along with her.

“baby, your pussy’s crushing me,” vi whimpered meekly, cock still cumming, “fuck, you feel so good.”

you laugh tiredly, enjoying how her dick spasms inside of you, your eyes still closed, “not my fault your dick is massive, honey.”

her posture relaxes once she stops cumming, her arms hugging your torso, the both of you catching your breath before she’s separating herself from you. vi lifts her tanktop once again as she looks down, she pulls out slowly, groaning at the way your cunt grips her dick, or how a bridge of your cum and hers appears.

“you’re carrying me to the bathroom.”

#fanfic #imagines #writing #arcane #female reader #wlw #vi x reader #vi x female reader #vi x you #need her #need that #vi imagines #vi arcane x reader #vi arcane

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orphicsun · 8 months ago

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Twisted Girls

:¨ ·.· ¨: ⠀⠀ `· . ꔫ Perv Ellie x Femdom! Reader

Content: Sexual content, masturbation, face-sitting (r! receiving), thigh-riding (e! receiving), perverted horndog Ellie, best friend trope, light blackmail, spit-play, dom reader, switch Ellie who is really just a sub for reader, sub/dom roles, rough sex, choking, use of degrading names like "whore", reader has a cooter cat

Word Count: 3.2k

Photo creds to ellsgirll! for more gorgeous photos click here Divider creds here

Description: You’ve been Ellie’s “sweet” best friend for years now, and she thinks that you don’t understand the depths of her horniness. Especially when it comes to you. Ellie thought way too much about what she’d do with you if she had the courage to expose her obsession, but when you discover her darkest secret, the tables turn. Ellie’s in over her head.

Ellie was face down in her bed, face buried into her pillows. Her hand was down her pants as always, and she was aggressively humping her hand like a fucking dog. This wasn't the worst of it, either. Clutched between her grimey finger-tips was a pair of your silky panties. Yes, that's right. She had a pair of your most expensive Victoria's Secret set down in her pants, rubbing the fabric against her clit perfectly. She pretended the dampness that spread from her pussy to the fabric of your underwear was yours as well, but it just wasn't the same. Still, the thrill was exciting.

After the came, she did what was honorary routine. She let out an exhausted sigh as she tucked your panties away under her bed in a little box with a few others she stole, including a few polaroids you obliviously gave her, not realizing it'd become masturbation material.

In all truth, post-nut clarity hit her hard. She'd always feel horrible for taking advantage of your kind nature, even if it was in secret. She hated how much she wanted you, how she couldn't keep her hormones at bay like some horny teenage boy. Her feelings for you were deeper than any of that, too. She truly loved you. But she'd rather take out her feelings in the way she knew how. She was far from a sex addict either; she didn't do what she did often. But she did fall asleep with a picture of you under her pillow once. Only one time.

And of course, tomorrow was a sleep-over day for the two of you. Ellie both dreaded and fantasized about what it'd be like to have you sleep in her bed. She wondered if you'd snore, if you talked in your sleep, or perhaps you were silent and peaceful. Even though she'd been your friend for years now, she hardly let you over. You never understood why; she was fine with coming over to your house. She just seemed to hate you being in her personal space. But for Ellie, she had the most justifiable reasons for pushing you away.

Ellie's room was always a mess, and in the center of it all would be something she simply didn't want you to see, like the vibrator on her desk or the uneven Cannibal Holocaust poster on her wall. She was a true horror fan while you were an adamant hater. You thought gore, even if fake, was just disgusting.

You were entirely different from Ellie in all ways possible. While she was seemingly awkward and quiet, you were like a golden retriever, always talking someone's head off. Ellie saw you as innocent, too. It was kind of a fantasy for her. She loved the idea of being your first, ruining you for anyone else. She wanted to make you only hers, to make you cum for the first time so you'd see it as some godly experience and be attached to her for the rest of your life. She partially assumed you saw sex as something that caused soul-ties or some shit like that. In all honesty, she would've gotten attached to you if she had the chance to fuck you.

However, Ellie's perception was extremely biased. As much as you were oblivious to her perverse behavior, she was oblivious to yours. No, you weren't some innocent girl who was too prissy to even think about sex, let alone masturbate. You were a secret control freak. Ellie fantasized about you being her sweet girl, about ruining something she didn't know was already ruined. Something that she didn't know existed within you. The idea of you being her slut was so appealing to her, while the idea of her being at your every whim was appealing to you.

She couldn't have predicted how truly different you'd be from the fantasy she had stuffed up into that murky head of hers.

You loved Ellie so dearly. She was truly one of your best friends for years now. She was always there for you when you needed her. All of those pathetic boys who broke your heart in highschool somehow found themselves with a broken nose. Ellie was like a dark savior for you, so it was natural to love her in a more complex way than a simple friendship runs. After that simple statement, not much more was natural.

You loved her, and that was obvious. But you also wanted to ruin her. No, you needed to. You didn't feel an ounce of guilt like Ellie did when it came to these twisted thoughts. There was nothing stable about the way you'd picture her in ropes while you bounced on her strap or had your tongue deep between her folds. You didn't want to just give her pleasure, you wanted to send her tumbling into a limbo between heaven and hell where she'd both hate you and need you so badly, where every time your tongue would refuse to apply any sort of stimulation to her clit, she'd feel that dizzy feeling of desperation. She'd hate you if you ever got your hands on her.

These feelings were reasoned with Ellie's behavior. While you were sweet and caring to her like a goddess to her mortals, Ellie wasn't exactly the picturesque best friend and you weren't as oblivious as you'd pretend to be. It was almost insulting that Ellie thought you were so clueless to where your underwear was running off to, as if an expensive Victoria's Secret set grew a pair of legs and left your laundry hamper. No, you absolutely knew. And you were much better at secretly fantasizing about Ellie than Ellie was about you. She wanted to fuck you, but she was much too desperate. You might’ve wanted her, but there was no pathetic horniness to your mindset. It was all so controlled. And that's the whole point, control.

Handcuffs, ropes, and belts. Physical restraint is one thing, but total mind control is another. And you had just the plan to take what you wanted from her.

—

Ellie scrambled to clean up her room. She wasn't the most organized person, and she didn't really think she needed to be. It wasn't like she had many friends to come visit her. She was fine with doing her own thing, playing Call of Duty at late hours of the night even with the strain the bright PC light put on her eyes, writing shameful journal entries, sketching photos of her obsessions(space, dinosaurs, the new editions of Starlight Savage, and most importantly, you), and obviously touching herself with extremely lesbian thoughts.

After she had mostly cleaned up the tornado in her bedroom, now she had to text you and tell you she was ready for you to come over. It wasn't long before you were knocking at her door, and that was when the inevitable sequence of events would begin.

Ellie was never much of a control freak. She thought she was, she thought that she loved the idea of just fucking some girl and making her cum. She thought that meant she was dominant in some sense, or that she was even right to assume she'd be the one in control if she were to ever actually sleep with you. That's just not how things work, though. Someone so reckless, so careless, so sensitive and unorganized can't possess a human being. Ellie was in over her head by thinking she could've kept her secret for very long.

The knock on the door jolted her out of whatever daydream she was having, and Ellie scurried to opened the door.

There you were, in all your glory. Beautiful, wide eyes that had a sprinkle of shine in them Ellie was addicted to. You smiled wide and let yourself in.

"So, I was thinking we could play Mario Kart. Unless you have other plans." You immediately requested that specific activity because you hated most video games when usually that was all Ellie did. Mario Kart was always middle grounds for the both of you.

"Oh, fuck yeah. But don't start crying when I beat your ass," She said with a laugh and lead you into her bedroom.

Ellie's room wasn't huge, and her décor consisted mostly of video games and comics you hadn't even heard of. You only recognized Starlight Savage because of the hours Ellie would spend ranting to you about Dr. Daniela Star. She had a few dinosaur plushies on her bed and a record player in the corner of her room that complimented her vinyl shelf nicely. Her PC setup was impressive, which didn't surprise you. All you could think about, however, was where your precious Victoria's Secret sets were located. For now, you would have to focus on dominating her in Mario Kart.

Ellie won about 10 times. You beat her once and it was because she ran over a banana at the last second. Of course, Ellie was being as smug as usual.

"Told you I'd beat your ass. Don't whine now." She sneered in a voice that made you want to put her in her place.

You remained calm. "Whatever. So..what do we do now?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, but I gotta use the bathroom. Wait on my bed, okay?" Ellie shut the door behind her, leaving you alone in her room. This was your chance.

You quickly went through her drawers first, and found nothing but her own boxers. Not that you were complaining, but those weren't exactly yours.

You got lucky. You bent down to search under the bed and your hands felt around until you felt something. it was a red cardboard box that you'd never seen in her room before. Unlike Ellie, you didn't feel extremely guilty about going through her private stuff.

Your hands made quick work of the lid and at the same time, the bathroom door swung open. Ellie opened the door, her eyes widening and her face a tomato red at the sight of you sat on the floor with her stash of your undergarments in your hands. You felt a little guilty now, but this would put your plan in motion, and you wanted Ellie too much to brush it all aside. Even if you didn't truly care.

"What the fuck, Ellie?! Are these my panties? What in the actual fuck is wrong with you?" You exclaimed, and you sounded truly offended.

Ellie's heart dropped down into her stomach. She'd never seen you so angry. You were always so sweet with her and she never felt deserving of it. Now, at least she felt like this is how things were really meant to be.

"Oh, my gosh...I am so sorry, I swear to you I never meant to-"

You cut her off quickly, standing up and throwing the panties onto the ground. "What? I could ruin your life for this, Ellie. You would probably deserve it to. I could tell everyone about this, and they would hate you. You'd be labeled as a pervert for the rest of your life."

Suddenly, Ellie was panicking. She'd never expected you to find the stash. She felt all the guilt bubble up in the form of nausea. Her hands were trembling now and she was fidgeting with the tips of her fingers trying to calm herself. Now, she was truly groveling. "Please don't tell anyone! I'll do anything, I swear to you. I will do anything. I understand if you hate me, but please..just don't tell anyone. You can leave if you want, I.." She trailed off, feeling hopeless. She felt that nothing could change what she did.

The next words that left your mouth made Ellie's jaw drop onto the floor.

"Let me sit on your face." You stated, as if it were a casual request everyone had made to their friends before.

Ellie was extremely confused by the way this was going now. She struggled to find the words to explain how she was feeling, and the ache that was beginning to gnaw at her lower stomach was inconvenient but unsurprising. All she could manage was a weak "What...?"

"You heard me. You’re gonna make me cum, or I'll post all about this to everyone. Your life will be ruined. You better get started, don't you think?"

Ellie was hesitant. She couldn't tell if this was some joke or not, and then you spoke up again. "If you're not going to do it, I can just leave and go tell-"

"No!", Ellie shouted quickly. Her voice was shakier than normal, and her face still flushed. She couldn't believe this was how she'd get to have you, with you being in control of the whole situation. Still, she didn't want to complain. "I-I'll let you, I promise..”

The first taste Ellie got of you made her almost cum in her fucking jeans. Your juices tasted like something completely foreign to her, like lust and pure arousal. She gave your cunt experimental kitten licks, and you responded by putting more weight onto the girl, practically smothering her face with your cunt. God, even when she was struggling with the lack of experience she had pleasuring girls, her eagerness made up for it. You had to place your hands flat on her chest to keep from falling over with the pleasure she was giving you every time she’d whine against your pussy, vibrations making your clit practically numb with pleasure.

You began to guide yourself on her face, slowly rocking against her mouth. “Fuck, Els..c’mon, just like that.” You praised, and Ellie put in even more effort into the task, tongue swirling around your sensitive bud and making you go dizzy with power. The way she was whimpering at your taste as if she was the one getting fucked, her own hips bucking up in the air for some friction she couldn’t get. The sight was truly giving you an ego.

You felt the heat in your stomach from every flick of her tongue against your clit and the fire only grew into unprecedented flames as your hips shifted your cunt down into her mouth, using her like some sex toy.

Ellie didn’t even think of sex like this, like being controlled completely by someone. But the more you grasped at her chest, snaking your hands down her shirt to greedily palm her tits, the more she just wanted to please you. All she could focus on was making you cum, even though her own cunt was throbbing with neglection.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl..you’re gonna make me cum, Ellie.” Your voice was trailing off and breathless, and soon you hit your climax, orgasm hitting you like a freight train.

Your legs trembling from above, thighs squeezing at her head and making her dizzy with the warmth of your cellulite. You were frantically grinding, pulling at her tits as if it would give you another orgasm. You cried out, and Ellie spent the next few seconds licking up your cum as if it was the gods nectar.

When you finally came down, you rolled over breathlessly and buried your face into the sheets. Ellie was just as messy as you were, your wetness coating her chin, and her breathing coming out in soft pants. However, she still felt extremely needy.

“P-Please, can you make me feel good to..?” She asked, voice small and her words coming out in a stammer.

You paused for a moment at that. You could’ve probably done so much to her. You wanted to fuck her silly and use her all night. However, you still wanted to make a point about the stash. You had to keep up with the whole “offended by Ellie stealing your underwear” bit. So you rolled over to sit up and shrugged.

“You can hump my thigh.” You stated shamelessly.

Ellie blushed at this, and she felt pathetic for how fast and moved to straddle your leg. Fuck, it felt so good to grind her cunt against your leg-

You grabbed her hips and stopped Ellie’s beginning movements, making her whine in protest.

“Nuh-uh, not like that. Take off your clothes.” You demanded.

Ellie was naked without much thought to it. She was too desperate to fuck herself on your thigh that she didn’t care about dignity.

Her hips ground down against your soft thigh, and you’d occasionally bounce it up, making her let out little yelps. She was aware of the wet patch her arousal was leaving on your bare skin, but she was too caught up in the pleasure to care. However, when you leaned down to spit on your thigh, causing even more easy friction, she practically folded. It felt way too good to slide her cunt against your own saliva, and it messed with her head even though she was used to perverse thoughts.

“P-Please, you feel so good..” She gargled out, her voice shaky and needy.

You scoffed. “Please, what? What are you even begging for? You’re so greedy.”

Ellie’s face turned another hue of red at this, and she let out a whorish whimper, her hips picking up speed. “Be rough with me..it’d make me feel good.” She asked.

You’d fantasized about this countless times.

You didn’t hesitate to wrap a hand around her throat, and you began shifting your thigh beneath her, making her soaking pussy feel overwhelmed with the sudden attention.

“Is this what you wanted, whore? You wanted me to be rough with you?” You spoke, and your tone was so unfamiliar from the sweet, soft angelic voice she was so used to you using.

Ellie struggled to answer, and your hand tightened around her throat. She was practically humping your leg like a dog, and you could tell she was getting close. You delivered a small smack to her hip, making her moan in response.

“Answer me, baby. Is this what you wanted? To be fucked on my thigh?” You loosened your grip on her throat so she could speak.

“Y-Yes!! Fuck, I’m gonna cum..”

You didn’t hesitate to tighten your embrace on her soft throat once again, partially cutting off her airflow. You leaned forward to speak into her ear. “Better make a mess on my thigh, baby.”

Ellie didn’t need any further encouragement. With the feeling of the loss of oxygen and your ironically sweet words, she finally found her orgasm. Her body shook with the effort to release, and your thigh was coated in stickiness as she continued to ride out the high.

Your hand left her throat and your arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly. You left kisses in her hair as she shifted to sit over your lap, her body warm and limp in your embrace.

You sighed and pulled her face up to give her a soft kiss, your lips massaging hers with a newfound affection. When you pulled away, she buried her face into your shoulder. You smiled and ran your fingers through her hair, loving on her as if she was some fawn that couldn’t walk. To be fair, she probably would fall over if she tried.

“Better not steal my panties again, Els."

#ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #tlou2 #ellie smut #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #ellie williams au #ellie williams x reader smut #lesbian #tlou ellie #the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams oneshot #oneshot #tlou smut #wlw smut

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bernardsbendystraws · 6 months ago

Text

𝐄𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨 — 𝐌.𝐒. & 𝐂.𝐒.

Synopsis: They crave you instead of sleep.

Warnings: Smut, panty-ripping, fem!receiving, Doll x Chratt.

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Neither Matt nor Chris could sleep. It was only one night, only a couple hours past midnight at that, and they just couldn’t do it anymore.

“Fuck it.” Chris is the first to break. He wanders up to Nick’s room, creeping in and kneeling down in front of you. You’re in a light sleep, as soon as he starts to caress your arm, your eyes start to flutter open. So much for a sleepover.

Your lips smack lazily, “Chris?” you ask, getting shushed as he starts to guide you to stand.

There’s no time for questions. He had already waited so long. Too long.

“Need you. Can’t - just can’t sleep and I…” his steps are getting quicker as he pulls you in tow. As soon as he pushes you into his bedroom, his lips are finding yours with passion.

A hum of relief vibrates against your lips. You feel his greed, his hands grasping a little tighter than normal. Afterall, he had been trying to hold back for hours.

His tongue is lustful, seeking into your mouth with a possessive sort of movement. You can’t help but moan as you feel him lay you down on the bed, climbing in between your legs as he grinds his hard bulge directly against your heat.

“See how bad I needed ya?” he husks, his lips starting to wander down your neck, the ridges of his teeth biting softly against your hammering pulse.

You can most definitely feel how bad he needs you. He’s so hard - painfully throbbing against your underwear that seems to get more damp by the second. The thin pj shorts are ripped off of you within an instant, cold air brushing against the soaked material of your panties.

And the thing is - Chris doesn’t even want to fuck you. Well, he does want to, but he needs to taste you.

He slides down teasingly, kissing the plush skin of your tummy before trailing lower and lower. Your breath hitches as you feel him sloppily kiss your clit through your underwear, the noise only encouraging him as he uses the same passionate movements he did on your lip just a brief minute ago.

He’s hungry.

No - he’s starved.

“Chris,” you sigh, your hips swiveling into the mattress as you feel him pull the bridge of your panties to the side, air from his lips puffing right against your sensitivity.

You're burning from anticipation. A long moan strung from you covers the sound of the door creaking, a visitor sauntering in and drooling at the sight.

Matt heard the footsteps of Chris dragging you down to his own room. He waited and tried to resist, but he couldn’t sleep either. There was no resisting the second he heard a soft moan from the floor below. At least no resisting he could manage anymore.

Chris doesn’t even take your panties off all the way. He’s too impatient, diving right in and absolutely devouring you. Your neck cranes from pleasure, your head tossing back and nearly hitting headboard - but Matt’s hand is quick to come between.

You recognize his touch immediately. The moans starting to spill from your lips are mesmerizing, but as your eyes land on Matt’s, he feels all his patience run thin.

“-feels good, hm? He eatin’ your pussy good, baby?” Matt tusks.

A whimper mumbling in your mouth makes Matt’s cock harden even more. He can’t help but sit down on the bed, cradling your head in his lap as he drinks in the sight of your mouth splitting open with lewd noises, the wet squelches of Chris lapping at your cunt with his tongue making his heart drum in his ears.

Chris is more than content - but Matt isn’t. He hates that your underwear is in the way of his view, he wants to see the mess - he wants to feel it.

He’s running out of air. Chris’s chest burns for relief, forcing him to pull away as he inhales in a deep breath. The second he’s pulled away, Matt runs his hands down between your legs. He doesn’t bother sliding your underwear down. No - he tears them, ripping them once, ripping them twice and throwing them to the floor.

“There we go,” he purrs, lightly tracing over your pulsating clit with his fingers. How could he not? It’s right there, begging to be touched.

Your back arches, pushing your head further into his lap. Your knees try to snap shut as you feel another pair of fingers tease your weeping hole - Chris’s. But he doesn’t let his view get blocked either. His broad shoulders keep you spread wide, the wetness of your pussy glistening in the moonlight.

“Oh - mygod, fuck!” you scream, clutching onto the bed sheets as both Matt and Chris concentrate on their precision even more. Matt notices how much your thighs tense when he moves his fingers around your clit, gently swiping over the nub with his thumb. Your hips are lifting off the bed as Chris curls his fingers, creating friction against that spot, making you become a pile of moans and screams as you rock your body against them for more.

“Please, please, please!”

You’re not even sure what you’re begging for. All you know is this feels so fucking good, too much yet you need more.

“C’mon, Doll, you got it, c’mon,” Chris praises, his lips starting to kiss gently on your quivering knee closing against him. He wants to see you fall apart, he wants to feel you fall apart.

Matt can’t make up his mind. His eyes are glued to how blissed-out your face is, your mouth hangs open, but your pussy looks delicious - glistening, sloppy, and swollen from stimulation.

They’re making you feel so good - exactly what they had both been craving all night.

“Ma - Chri - I - mmmph,” you moan.

Both of their names and absolute gibberish. You’re gone, lost in pleasure as you become a vessel of passion. Chris hisses as he feels your walls convulse around his fingers. Matt feels his dick twitch as he watches your hips move erratically, a sharp scream pursing through your lips as you truly fall apart.

“Good girl, fuckkkkkk - look at that,” Chris husks, watching a creamy-white ring form at the base of his fingers as he continues to pump you through the high.

They really just couldn’t sleep. Not when they needed this - not when they craved you.

Matt’s gut is tightening. He’s not even being touched but god - he’s close. It’s just such a pretty sight, it’s exactly what he needed.

Large puffs of air echo through the room as you fall limp, twitching every couple seconds. The proud look on both of their faces makes your heart crumble, the heat becoming impenetrable as you feel their focused stares.

Even though they’re aching to cum and be touched, they’re exhausted. And honestly, they’re satisfied. Now that they have you all messy and worn, they’re finally able to realize just how tired they are.

“Bed time?” you laugh, feeling both of them cage you from either side, arms swarming around you as they cuddle in closely.

“Mhm,” Matt breathes, his lips tickling against your ear, “-just needed you, sweetheart.”

Chris squeezes at your hips. He lets his nose brush against the underside of your jaw, “I wanna go to bed, but I also really wanna see you cum again,” he mentions.

He’s really not lying. It’s like his brain is finally relaxed with you around, but it also craves to see the same sight of you creaming all over his fingers again and again.

“Honestly…” Matt trails off, his hand starting to maneuver and massage up over your breast, tweaking your nipple. He lets out a hum at the sound of your gasp, “-how do you feel about some coffee than another round, hm?” he purrs.

Sure, you’re spent and exhausted. But, you’re not immune to how his words seem to make your stomach twirl with excitement.

“Espresso?” you wonder out loud.

Chris is already getting up. Matt is grasping you, laughing into your ear, “Nice and quick, yeah. Then…then we can get back to havin’ some fun, hm? Isn’t that sweet?”

You hum playfully, your nose scrunching at his sultry, yet pretty words;

“I guess so.”

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aceyalonso · 9 months ago

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two is always better than one - OSCAR PIASTRI & LANDO NORRIS

pairing : oscar piastri x fem!reader x lando norris ↳ oscar piastri x gf!reader

summary : what happens when lando catches y/n and oscar in a rather... compromising position?

warnings/notes : swearing, unprotected sex (please use protection!), dom!oscar (only for a bit), oral (m!receiving), double penetration, anal, creampie, spanking, implied exhibitionism kink, praise kink, degradation kink, a shit ton of dirty talk, squirting

word count : 2.7k

song : hotel - montell fish

a/n : (its immediately nsfw, so its under the cut) teehee love these two sm

main masterlist | kinktober masterlist

Lando walked into Oscar's driver's room, expecting to find his friend alone. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of Oscar's cock thrusting in and out of Y/n's eager mouth. Her lips were stretched around Oscar's thick shaft as she bobbed her head up and down, taking him deeper into her throat with each movement.

Oscar had one hand tangled in Y/n's hair, guiding her movements as she sucked him off. His other hand gripped the armrest of his gaming chair, knuckles turning white from the intensity of the pleasure. "Fuck, Y/n," he groaned, his hips bucking up to meet her mouth. "Your mouth feels so good."

She moaned around Oscar's cock, sending vibrations along his length. She loved the taste of him, the weight of him on her tongue. Her own arousal was growing, her panties dampening as she serviced her boyfriend.

Y/n slid one hand down between her thighs, her fingers pressing against the damp fabric of her panties. She rubbed herself through the thin material, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through her body. Her other hand continued to stroke Oscar's balls, rolling them gently in her palm.

Oscar's eyes widened as he watched Y/n touch herself. "That's it, baby," he encouraged, his voice strained with lust. "Play with that pretty pussy while you suck my cock."

Lando stood frozen in the doorway, his own cock hardening in his pants as he watched the lewd display before him. He knew he should leave, give them privacy, but he couldn't tear his eyes away.

As Lando turned to leave, Oscar called out to him, "Hey, where do you think you're going? Don't you want to join in on the fun?"

Lando hesitated, his hand on the doorknob. He looked back at the couple, seeing the desire in their eyes and the invitation in Oscar's words. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n pulled away from Oscar's cock, a string of saliva connecting her lips to the tip. "Of course we're sure," she purred, her eyes locked onto Lando. "I love putting on a show for others."

Oscar nodded in agreement, his hand still tangled in Y/N's hair. "Come on, man. Don't be shy. We're all friends here, right?"

Lando took a deep breath, and his decision was made. He closed the door behind him and approached the couple, his cock straining against his pants. Y/n licked her lips as she watched him approach, her hand still rubbing her clit through her panties.

He stepped closer, his eyes roaming over her body hungrily. She was a vision of debauchery, her lips swollen from sucking Oscar's cock, her cheeks flushed with arousal. He reached out and ran his fingers through her hair, mirroring Oscar's grip.

Oscar grinned, his own arousal growing at the sight of his two friends together. "Why don't you help her out, Lando? I'm sure she could use a few more fingers in that tight little pussy of hers."

Lando needed no further encouragement. He dropped to his knees beside Y/n, his hand replacing hers between her thighs. He pushed her panties aside and plunged two fingers into her wet heat, groaning at the feel of her walls clenching around him.

She gasped as Lando's fingers entered her, her back arching off the chair. She reached out and grabbed Oscar's cock, stroking him in time with Lando's thrusts. "Fuck, that feels amazing," she moaned, her head lolling back in ecstasy.

Y/n's mouth was filled with the taste of Oscar as she sucked him off, her tongue swirling around his shaft. Just as she was about to take him deeper, Oscar signaled to Lando, and both men pulled away from her simultaneously. Y/n whimpered at the sudden loss of contact, her body craving more.

She looked up at Oscar with pleading eyes, her lips glistening with his pre-cum. "Why did you stop?" she whined, her voice tinged with desperation. "I was just getting started."

Oscar cupped Y/n's cheek, his thumb brushing across her bottom lip. "Be patient, baby," he murmured, his eyes dark with lust.

He turned to Lando and gestured for him to help her stand up. Lando complied, pulling her to her feet and steadying her as she wobbled slightly. Once she was upright, Oscar gestured to the couch.

Lando sat down on the couch, his erection clearly visible through the fabric of his pants. He looked up at Y/n, his eyes hungry with desire. "Come here," he said, his voice low and seductive.

Y/n obeyed, walking over to him and straddling his lap. She ground her hips against his, feeling his hardness press against her core. "Mmm, you feel so big," she purred, her hands roaming over his chest.

She turned to face Oscar, her eyes seeking his approval. "Can I take these off for you, baby?" she asked, her fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties.

Oscar nodded, a smirk playing on his lips. "Go ahead, I want to see that pretty pussy of yours."

Y/n slowly slid her panties down her legs, stepping out of them gracefully. She turned back to Lando and straddled him once more, this time facing Oscar. She could feel Lando's hard cock pressing against her bare pussy, the heat of it seeping through his pants.

She began to grind against him, her wetness soaking through the fabric. Oscar had a perfect view of her spread open, her pink folds glistening with arousal. "Look at how wet you are," he growled, palming his own erection through his jeans. "You're dripping all over Lando's pants."

Lando's moans grew louder as Y/n continued to grind against him, the friction driving him wild. "Wait, stop," he gasped, his hands gripping her hips. "Take my pants off first."

Y/n obliged, sliding off his lap and kneeling before him. She unbuttoned his pants and tugged them down, along with his boxers, freeing his throbbing erection. She licked her lips at the sight of it, her eyes wide with desire.

He guided Y/n back onto his lap, positioning her so that she was still facing Oscar. He gripped her hips, holding her steady as he rubbed the tip of his cock against her wet entrance. "Are you ready?" he asked, his voice husky with desire.

Y/n shook her head, a coy smile playing on her lips. "Not there," she whispered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I want it somewhere else."

Oscar leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he tried to decipher her meaning. "What do you mean, baby?" he asked, his voice low and curious.

Lando understood immediately, his cock twitching at the thought. He moved his hand, positioning the tip of his erection at the entrance of Y/N's tight hole. "Is this what you want, Y/N?" he teased, his fingers digging into her hips. "Do you want me to fuck your ass?"

Y/n bit her lip, nodding eagerly. "Yes," she breathed, her eyes locked onto Oscar's. "I want you to fuck my ass, Lando. I want to feel you inside me"

Oscar's eyes widened at Y/N's request, a mix of surprise and arousal flickering across his face. "Fuck, baby," he groaned, his hand stroking his own cock faster. "I didn't know you were into that."

Lando didn't need any further encouragement. He pressed the tip of his cock against Y/N's tight entrance, feeling her tense up slightly. "Relax, Y/n," he murmured, his other hand rubbing soothing circles on her lower back. "I'll go slow."

With that, he began to push forward, the head of his cock breaching her tight ring of muscle. Y/n gasped at the initial stretch, her nails digging into the couch. But as he continued to press in, inch by inch, the pain began to fade, replaced by a deep, intense pleasure.

Lando groaned as more of his length disappeared into Y/n's tight heat. "Look, Osc," he panted, "she's taking it so well."

Oscar watched, transfixed, as Lando's cock slowly vanished into Y/n's ass. Her face was a mixture of pleasure and discomfort, but she never once asked him to stop. "Fuck, she looks so hot," he said, his hand pumping his own cock faster. "I can't believe she's letting you do this."

Y/n moaned, her head falling back as Lando finally bottomed out inside her. "It feels so good," she whimpered, her hips starting to move tentatively. "Don't stop, Lando."

Lando began to move, his hips rocking back and forth as he thrust into Y/n's tight ass. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure through her body, and she couldn't help but moan louder. "Oh god, yes!" she cried out, her fingers gripping the couch cushions tightly.

Oscar watched, his own arousal growing as he saw his girlfriend take Lando's cock so eagerly. "You like that, don't you, baby?" he asked, his voice rough with lust. "You like having Lando's big cock in your ass?"

Y/n nodded, her eyes glazed over with pleasure. "Yes, I love it," she gasped, her hips meeting Lando's thrusts. "It feels so fucking good."

Oscar's eyes gleamed with excitement as he watched Lando pound into Y/n's ass. "Lay down, Lando," he commanded, his voice authoritative. "I want to fuck her too."

Lando complied, laying back on the couch and pulling Y/n with him. She ended up straddling both men, Lando's cock still buried deep in her ass, while her pussy was exposed and glistening with arousal.

Oscar positioned himself between her legs, his cock pressing against her wet entrance. "Are you ready for me, baby?" he asked, his eyes locked onto hers.

She nodded, her body trembling with anticipation. "Yes, please," she begged, her hips wiggling impatiently. "Fuck me, Oscar."

Oscar gripped Y/N's hips, holding her steady as he slowly pushed into her tight, wet heat. She gasped as he filled her, her walls stretching to accommodate his size. "Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his eyes rolling back in pleasure.

Lando watched as Oscar began to move, his own cock twitching inside her. "She's so fucking hot," he muttered, his hands roaming over her curves. "I can't believe we're both inside her."

Y/n moaned, her head thrown back in ecstasy as both men moved within her. The sensation of being filled so completely was overwhelming, and she could feel her orgasm building quickly. "Don't stop," she pleaded, her nails raking down Lando's chest. "I'm so close."

Oscar and Lando increased their pace, their hips slamming against hers in a frenzy of lust. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixing with the trio's moans and cries of pleasure.

Y/n's body was consumed by the dual sensations, her mind clouded with ecstasy. She could feel every ridge and vein of both cocks as they pistoned in and out of her, stretching her to her limits. "I'm gonna cum," she screamed, her voice raw with passion. "Don't stop, please don't stop!"

Her words spurred the men on, their thrusts becoming erratic as they chased their own releases. Oscar reached down, his fingers finding Y/n's clit and rubbing it furiously. That final stimulation was all she needed, and with a guttural cry, she came undone.

Her body convulsed as her orgasm crashed over her, her inner muscles clamping down on the cocks inside her. Oscar and Lando followed soon after, their own releases triggered by the intensity of her climax.

Oscar came first, his cock spurting ribbons of cum into Y/n's pussy. Lando followed suit, his cock unable to slip out of her ass as he emptied himself into her tight hole.

Oscar grinned, his cock still semi-hard and glistening with their combined juices. "You want more, baby?" he asked, his eyes dark with lust. "You want to have another round?"

Y/n nodded frantically, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm. "Yes, please," she begged, her voice hoarse. "I want it all."

Lando chuckled, his hand stroking his spent cock. "Looks like someone's needy tonight," he teased, his eyes roaming over Y/n's slightly shaky body.

Oscar stood up, pulling Y/n with him. He guided her to the other end of the couch, where Lando was already lying down with his head resting on the armrest. "Get on your knees, baby," Oscar instructed, his voice gruff with desire. "Suck Lando's cock while I fuck your ass."

Y/n eagerly complied, kneeling between Lando's legs and taking his semi-hard cock into her mouth. She began to suck him off, her tongue swirling around his shaft and bringing him back to full hardness.

Oscar pressed the tip of his cock against Y/n's tight hole, feeling the resistance of her muscles. "Fuck, you're still so tight," he groaned, his fingers digging into her hips. "Maybe we need to loosen you up a bit more, huh?"

He began to push in, his cock stretching her even further than before. Y/n moaned around Lando's cock, the dual sensations of being filled and sucking driving her wild with pleasure.

Lando gripped Y/n's hair, his hips bucking up to meet her mouth as she sucked him off. "Fuck, you're so good at this," he praised, his eyes locked onto hers. "And Oscar, you have one hell of a slut for a girlfriend."

Oscar chuckled, his own hips moving in a steady rhythm as he fucked Y/n's ass. "I know, right?" he said, his voice strained with pleasure. "She's so fucking needy."

Y/n moaned in response, her mouth and ass filled with their cocks. She loved being used like this, loved the feeling of being their plaything. The more they complimented her, the more aroused she became, her body craving their touch and praise.

Her hand drifted down to her clit, her fingers rubbing the sensitive nub as she continued to suck Lando off. Suddenly, a sharp smack echoed through the room as Oscar spanked her ass. "Ah!" she cried out, her fingers leaving her clit.

"I didn't say you could touch yourself," Oscar growled, his hand rubbing the reddening spot on her cheek. "You need to ask for permission first, understand?"

Y/n nodded, her eyes wide and submissive. "Yes," she whimpered, her voice muffled by Lando's cock.

Oscar smirked, pleased with Y/N's response. "Good girl," he praised, his hand caressing her ass before delivering another firm spank. "Now, let's see if you can make us both cum again."

He began to thrust harder, his cock plunging deep into her ass with each stroke. Lando matched his pace, his hips rising to meet Y/n's mouth as she continued to suck him off. The room was filled with the sounds of their moans and the slapping of flesh against flesh, creating a symphony of lust.

Y/n's body was on fire, her nerves alight with pleasure as the men used her for their own satisfaction. She could feel her orgasm building once again, her walls clenching around Oscar's cock as she sucked Lando's with renewed vigor.

Her body tensed, her back arching as her orgasm crashed over her. She threw her head back, a guttural moan escaping her lips as she came hard, her pussy squirting clear fluid onto the couch beneath her.

The sensation of her coming undone around him drove Oscar over the edge, and with a final thrust, he buried his cock deep in her ass and released. His hot seed filled her, mixing with the remnants of Lando's previous load.

Lando followed shortly after, his cock pulsing in Y/n's mouth as he emptied himself down her throat. She swallowed it all, her eyes watering as she struggled to keep up with the volume.

When Lando finished, Y/N pulled his cock out of her mouth, her lips forming a perfect 'O' as she opened her mouth wide to show him that she had swallowed every last drop. Lando grinned, his hand stroking her cheek affectionately. "Good girl," he praised, his voice thick with satisfaction.

Oscar pulled out of Y/n's ass, his softening cock slipping out with a wet pop. He admired the sight of her, sprawled out on the couch with their combined fluids dripping from her holes. "You look so beautiful like this," he murmured, his hand caressing her lower back.

Y/n's body trembled, her limbs weak from the intense pleasure she had just experienced. She collapsed onto the couch, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Oscar and Lando each wrapped an arm around her, supporting her weight and pulling her close.

"That was incredible," Lando said, his voice filled with awe. "I've never seen anyone take it so well."

Oscar nodded in agreement, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on Y/n's skin. "She's something special, isn't she?" he mused, his eyes filled with admiration and love for his girlfriend.

taglist

for all posts; @nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore

kinktober taglist; @cloud-55 @emryb @sie17136 @jaimeleannavanlloman @wosof1 @wholetmewritethat @glitterbitch1 @under-seasoned-pasta @sinners-98-world

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spearofheaven · 1 month ago

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GARDEN KISSES— featuring NANAMI, KENTO

CONTAINS. 18+ content, MDNI. college! kento nanami x botanist major! fem reader (pretty basic take on botany sorry), cunnilingus, unprotected sex, breeding kink go brr, pet names (sweetheart, my love, etc.)

a part two of sorts to this :p

saturday night. 11:30 pm.

most people your age would be surrounded by blinding club lights and sweat ridden bodies rubbing up against them (along with a questionable stench lingering in the air), but instead you were surrounded by an array of biology and plant anatomy textbooks scattered all over your work desk.

the front door unlocked with a click, the sound of footsteps following soon after. "hey honey, i'm back," nanami announced, sliding his shoes off at the door before making his way over to your desk.

"hey," a noncommittal murmur left your lips, your attention on the book in front of you. trying and willing yourself to commit every single term on the diagrams to memory.

nanami didn't take any offense-he knew you were engrossed in your work. he simply slid behind your chair, gently working his fingers through your slouched back. he worked at the knots in your back diligently, doing anything in his power to help you be more comfortable.

a low sigh left your lips, rolling your shoulders back as the exhaustion from the day started to weigh in. you weren't sure when was the last time you'd gotten up from this chair, unsure of when you looked at anything that wasn't the words on the page in front of you.

"let me be the one to help you relax, please." when you nodded, kento slid in between your legs just right under the desk. almost like he belonged there. his fingertips barely grazed against your legs, a goosebump running up your spine at how gentle the touch was.

"you've been working so hard, honey," he murmured, leaning in to press a reverent kiss onto your inner thigh, "you deserve to relax a bit." the material of his your shirt was bunched up, exposing your panties to him.

he lightly pressed a kiss onto the front of your clothed cunt, a damp spot already forming. your thighs immediately went to clench together, trying to seek out any form of friction before nanami pulled them apart. "patience, my love. i'll give you what you want."

he hooked two fingers onto the waistband of your panties, sliding them down to your ankles with relative ease. "so pretty, so wet." nanami's lips moved upwards, leaving behind a soft peck in his wake before he made himself comfortable in between your thighs.

while kento was organized in most aspects of his life, eating pussy was not one of them. he spat (as politely as he could) into your cunt, rubbing it in with his fingers to mix with your slick only to slurp it back up. your fingers ran down his hair, gently tugging at the golden roots.

"that's it, use me. i'm here to help you," kento let out a muffled moan when you bucked your hips against his face, the tip of his nose rubbing against your engorged clit. drop after drop of your slick landed on the lens of his glasses and yet, he didn't seem to care. he only noticed when you took them off, wiping them off on your shirt.

"f-fuck kento," a breathy moan left you, back arching into the backrest of your office chair. all the words on the textbook were starting to become a blur in your state of bliss. his fingers prodded at your entrance, pushing two inside while he sucked on your clit.

his tongue rolled around in figure eights, fingers curled to hit that spot inside of you with every. thrust. "ken, ken, make me cum, please," you babbled, feeling yourself grow closer to the edge. your fingers dug into his scalp, trying to keep yourself as grounded as possible.

"i said i'd take care of you, sweetheart," kento mumbled against your clit, each word a vibration that shot up your spine like livewire, "so trust me. just come for me."

that coil inside of you tightened, tightened, and kept tightening until SNAP. your walls spasmed around his fingers before your orgasm washed over you like a wave, soaking the glasses you'd tried so hard to keep clean.

"there we go, that's it, so good," jumbled praises left his lips, his fingers slowing their pace to work you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. nanami pulled them away, tapping the two digits against the plush of your lips.

your lips parted, tongue darting out to taste the slightly bitter essence on his finger. your lips enclosed around his fingers, sucking them clean. "let me." kento leaned in, pressing his lips against your own. it turned messy quick-he sucked on your tongue, eager to taste as much as he could of you-before you reluctantly pulled away to catch your breath.

"are you almost done with your review?" nanami asked, wiping his glistening lips with the back of his hand and looking over at the clock on the wall. 11:59. you'd be up until sunrise, at this rate.

you nibbled down on your bottom lip, going through the several pages that you were still determined to go over one last time. "almost." a lie. both you and nanami knew the moment that it left your lips.

"how about i help you review then?" once he got up, he reached over to take your book off the desk. reading over through some of the sections you'd highlighted and marked notes on to see just what he could quiz you on.

"and how are you gonna help me do that? flash cards?"

"no. with all due respect, bend over."

you found yourself bent over as soon as the words left his lips, papers scattering all over the floor when you reached to take hold of the edge of the table. he'd pick them up later. you heard him unzip his pants, shuffling them down before his cockhead rubbed against your puffy wet folds. not putting it in just yet.

"first question. vegetative shoots are responsible for producing new leaves and stem cells. but what tissue do vegetative shoots develop from?"

and just like that, every ounce of material you'd been going through throughout the day suddenly left your brain. "can i get a hint?"

"come on, my love. you've been going over this material all day," nanami cooed from behind you, sliding his reddened tip in between your slick folds, "i know you know this. surely you can tell me what tissue vegetative shoots develop from."

as determined as you'd once been to studying, the only thing you had in mind was him shooting his load into you.

"kennn," you let out a whine, trying to push your hips back onto him. with a click of his tongue, nanami firmly placed a hand on your hip to stop your motions.

"i know, i know. i'm being so mean to you, huh?" you could only nod your head, a low chuckle leaving his lips, "but we need for it to stick. you know this, i know you do."

so you began to rack your brain for the page on vegetative shoots. intercalary? no, that's longitudinal growth. think. "vegetative shoots develop from meristematic tissue?"

kento let out a hum. you weren't completely sure if you were right or wrong. "are you asking me or are you telling me, sweetheart?"

a huff left your lips, turning around to look at him with what you could only hope was a glare. it wasn't. you looked like an adorable, angry chihuahua. "i'm telling you. they develop from meristematic tissue, specifically the shoot apical meristem."

the slow thrust of nanami's hips into your own was enough to let you know the answer was right. your walls stretched out, molding around every ridge and every inch of his cock. "see, there we go. my smart girl."

his abdomen clenched with thinly veiled resistance, barely holding himself from thrusting into you the way that he wanted to. "ken, go faster, please fuck me, please," your whines didn't help either.

"okay," he grunted out, flipping through a couple of the pages of your textbook, "if you want me to go faster, what are the two components of the vascular tissue?" now this you knew.

"xylem and phloem. xylem's responsible for the transit of water and minerals from the roots and phloem's responsible for transporting sugars."

"there we go, you're gonna ace this final." kento put your book off to the side, using both hands to grip onto your hips. twack! twack! twack! his balls were heavy, slamming against your ass with each rut of his hips. your cunt gushed around his cock, a creamy ring at the base where you and him connected.

"oh fuck, ken! don't stop, please!" a loud moan (that was sure to disturb your neighbors, you'd deal with that later) left your lips, your nails digging into the wood of your desk. kento leaned in, burying his face into the side of your neck. kissing every spot he had available before using one hand to tilt your chin, bringing your lips against his own into a sloppy kiss.

"just wanna fill you up. take care of you while a bunch of mini-yous are running around," he was practically delirious with the way you were sucking every inch of him in, talking straight out of his ass, "but we gotta get you that degree first, huh?"

"just wanna get stuffed by you, kento." his fingers snaked down to rub at your clit, working you towards your second orgasm of the night. "please, please, cum in me!"

but you should've known by now that it didn't come without answering a question.

"you want it that bad, sweetheart?" when you simply nodded, nanami glanced over at your textbook to read the first thing that was in bold, "tell me, what're the reproductive organs in a pistil and i'll give you what you want. just one last question."

"that's a female p-plant," you felt your breath catch in your throat, his fingers still rubbing at your clit with each thrust, "made of the stigma, style, and ovary."

"there we go, that's my smart girl," his praise went down to your pussy, your slick covering his shaft until his cock glided in and out like a slip 'n slide. "gonna fill you up, just like you want. i'm gonna cum, gonna cum-" a groan left his lips before ropes of white coated your walls. your release hit at the same time as his own, the mixture of fluids landing on the floor underneath.

and as many sex flashbacks you got while taking your final, you really had to hand it to nanami.

you passed the test with flying colors.

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moscatosin · 29 days ago

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🖤 three. mattheo riddle x pottergf!reader 🖤 potions classroom. cheating. fingering. fwb's. a double shot of tequila. mdni. (1.6k)

Alright, let’s be honest here; the three best feelings in the world, in no particular order are:

the burn of a late August sun searing against your skin through the greenhouse glass of an afternoon Herbology class,

the smug thrill of seeing the word ‘outstanding’ scrawled in red ink on an assignment that you’d half-assed the night before it was due, and

Mattheo Riddle’s hands, rough and relentless, carving their claim on you. Or, like right now – in you.

Hips slammed up uncomfortably against the potions station, splintered edges of old wood catching into the material of your skirt; you’re barely able to hold yourself upright. Palms slick with a thin coat of sweat, slipping on the benchtop, your pretty little manicured French tips try their best to claw into the hard wood as your eyes roll back into your head; the move harmonized by the ragged gasp which tears anxiously from your throat as a half pant, half prayer. Mattheo’s fingers, two for now; but you know him all too well, curl inside your cunt with a precision that should be classed as fucking criminal. Every twist, every thrust, every swipe of his thumb across your clit, drags you closer to a high that you didn’t sign up for. Not on a random Friday afternoon in the middle of this damp, herb-soaked hellhole.

“Matt… fuck – no.”

Your voice is fractured, barely audible over the wet rhythm of his fingers that sound like a drum in the middle of the empty classroom. You’d asked Slughorn if you could stay back to complete some extra study – preparation for your upcoming NEWTs, and had expected to be alone for a few hours to get said study in. Not accosted by not so Prince Charming, who you’d been in an on again, off again, friends with benefits kind of situation with, which should have ended months ago.

“C’mon now Princess”, he chuckles into your ear; chin resting on your shoulder – watching you as if he’s savouring every single second of your unravelling. “Be a good girl for me. Soak my hand like you swore you would.”

Head tilting ever so slightly to face him, your body begins to betray you. Your back arches into him, thighs trembling, knees weak as you push up and rise onto your toes, heels lifting off the ground like you’re trying to run away from the sensations. That heat you weren’t wanting to feel, pooling low in your gut. That electric jolt you’d tried to suppress, spiralling deliciously up your spine. Mattheo wraps an arm around your waist; anchoring you against him so that you can’t run, so that you can’t shimmy away, so that you have to give in but ugh – it’s too much, too close, oh so…

“We agreed, Riddle. This was supposed to just be a onetime thing.”

The words you speak scrape out; sharp against your tongue and the inside of your teeth, but they still sound weak. Even to you. Mattheo chuckles again; this time, his chest vibrating coarse and low against your back that gosh, you missed the sound of. It’s almost heavenly.

“Which is the reason you keep coming back right? After months? Why you’re currently dripping down my wrist like a fucking whore?”

It’s undeniable that you hate him saying it. hate him speaking the truth. Hate hearing it. Nails digging harder than before into the benchtop, you shake your head although you know you can’t deny what’s just been said and close your eyes; lips parting as a god forsaken moan softly trickles through them.

“I’m serious, Mattheo. Stop making shit intimate.” “Intimate?”, he smirks against your neck; tip of his tongue flickering over your pulse point before he blows a huff of cool air against it. “Baby girl, your legs were wrapped around my head last night. I think we’re past pretending not to be fucking intimate.”

His fingers keep thrusting; your legs keep shaking, your lip quivers, your hands slip across the potions station as you body drops a little lower. Your toes though? Oh they rise to the challenge presented. You really should snap at him. Tell him to stop. Yell if you need to. Ugh. You’ve got a boyfriend for god sakes. You need to remind him. Not that he’d care. Just come up with some shitty, spur of the moment comment that’ll make you despise him more than you think you currently do.

“I’m not yours, Riddle.” “Never said you were.”

Mind drifting off, you begin to try and think of your boyfriend, Harry – with his soft kisses and steady hands. The picture-perfect Gryffindor golden child who takes you on cute little dates to Hogsmeade on weekends and carries your books to class. Harry who’s ultimately safe and oh so secure. Harry who’s… well, he’s right for you. Right?

Then you have Mattheo. Wrong in every sense and description of the word but fuck… if his fingers aren’t doing things to you right now which almost have your body singing him praises. As his fingers curl into you again, this time a little rougher, your knees begin to buckle, a moan slipping free before you’re able to choke it down and swallow it. He’s like fire and you’re ice and right now, you’re too damn close to the blaze.

“But you’re here, yes – with me? Not with Potter and that has to fucking mean something.”

Your breathing hitches once again as you let out another moan; this one a little louder, a little less shameless as you hate Mattheo for knowing exactly where to press and push, not just with his hands but his words too. The potions station creaks beneath the weight of the both of you as he pushes you up harder against it; his body flush against your own to the point where you can feel his heartbeat through the back of your shirt. This whole thing. This arrangement. This fling. It’s screwing with your head.

It was supposed to be simple. You were bored one night – Harry was at Quidditch practice; you’d had a bit to drink. You texted Mattheo in a tipsy kind of manner that he should come over and keep you company and instead of it being just the two of you watching a movie, he’d fucked you raw almost breaking your headboard. That was almost a month ago. You’d met up twice a week since.

“Mattheo – please -…”

The words start to come out in a dribble, but he manages to cut you off, adding in a third finger which stretches you in ways you never thought you needed right now, and your vision sparks white as you begin to see stars. Dropping your head forward, your hair sticks to your damp forehead and for the first time in the last twenty minutes – you’re done fighting the feeling. Your body gives in. your walls clench around his fingers as his name spills from your lips sounding like a curse that could easily become a new unforgivable and Mattheo drinks the whole thing in. Your shudders, your whimpers, the dampness which has pooled into his palm and is now running down his forearm.

Once it’s over, you’re a panting mess. Slumped down against the station; skirt still hiked up; thighs slick, panties drenched. Mattheo pulls his hand away slowly; deliberately. You half turn to face him – cheeks flushed with the prettiest shade of pink in existence which darken as you watch him lick his fingers clean with a smirk that makes your stomach flip.

“Fuck -.” “Still want this to be a onetime thing, Princess?”

His voice is nothing otherthan cocky. Each word spoken carved with a mocking edge that almost dares you to lie to yourself. You manage to swallow; to try and push the thoughts that are rushing into your mind out, back to the gutters of which they came from as you piece what little dignity you have left back together.

“Don’t get cocky, Riddle.” “Oh baby girl – you’re the one who keeps running back. Not me.”

Your heart skips a beat before your chest tightens. It’s uncomfortable, like your own subconscious is trying to suffocate you before you end up drowning within him. Mattheo’s right though – and you hate it. Your thoughts should be consumed by your boyfriend. He should be the object of your desires, of your drive, of the throbbing between your legs but no… instead it is this good for nothing Slytherin you just can’t pull yourself away from – or off.

“This.. whatever it is – is over, Mattheo.”

The words are a little steadier spoken than you’d imagined you’d manage as you notice his eyes narrow; his gaze searching your face for the crack he can use to slither back under your skin, but instead he just smiles. Lips curling into a shit eating kind of grin that’s almost too innocent for him.

“Sure thing Princess. Whatever you say.”

Mattheo takes a half step forward; resting his hands on your waist as his lips brush a soft kiss to your cheek and just as you’re about to protest, you feel him begin to walk away. There’s no argument; no push, no rebuttal. Just a goodbye kiss as sweet as can be as you begin to internally argue with yourself about what you should do, and how you should be feeling.

As he leaves and you hear the classroom door swing shut behind him; the ghost of Mattheo’s touch still lingers, unwarranted yet not discouraged and there’s a traitorous part of you that wonders how long the two of you will really stay away from one another. Your first thought – a week; at least get through your studies, your exam and well… a little time added in to repair the secrets you’ll never tell with Harry, but in reality – let’s be realistic – you’ll more than likely be tied up to the posts of Mattheo’s bed somewhere between 9pm and 11pm tonight.

#moscatosin #hogwarts #slytherin #slytherin boys #hogwarts universe #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #slytherin boys smut #mattheo riddle x self insert #mattheo riddle x y/n

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ohproserpine · 1 year ago

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for valentine's day, i thought i'd buy a gun.

synopsis: you make your husband mad on purpose tags: fem! reader, married couple, blood&injuries, demi alastor, suggestive/steamy, just a short kinda bad drabble to break my writer's block, ooc-ish alastor, soft alastor at first, vox mentioned don't like? don't interact.

"Cher!"

Alastor greeted you with a smile, his lips curved into a charming yet slightly crooked grin that softened the rugged edges of his appearance.

Leaning against the door frame, he looked every bit the rogue hunter returning from a hunt. His once-neat attire bore tears, burns, and scratches, with both knees of his pants ripped and scuffed thin. His monocle hung loosely on his chest, the glass broken and shards glinting in the light. Tousled strands of crimson hair fell haphazardly across his forehead, framing his rugged features, while a trickle of blood from the cut on his lips dripped down his chin, staining his deathly pale skin.

"Christ!" You jolted off the hotel bed, propelled into action by concern, your heart racing with worry. You began running around, collecting towels, extra clothes, and a first aid kit in a frantic rush.

Alastor moved into the room and stood in the very center, observing your frenzied activity with an amused smirk.

Finally, with all your materials in hand, you rushed to your husband's side, your footsteps echoing against the cold carpet.

"What happened to you?" you asked, filled with concern as you assessed his injuries, your eyes scanning his form for any more signs of distress.

"Just a little scuffle on the hunt, my doe," he replied with a cheer in his tone, spinning his staff in his hand. "Came across a feisty, moronic beast. But nothing I couldn't handle."

"A scuffle?" Disbelief colored your voice as you got on your tiptoes, straining to reach up and dab at the blood on his chin with a damp towel.

Alastor grinned down at you, his eyes tracing your features with tenderness. Always such a pretty view, but seeing you so domestic and sweet for him made him begin to feel hot below the collar. Leaning down, he reached out to sweep a stray strand of hair from your eyes, his long, sharp claws grazing against your skin.

"That can wait," his voice crackled with low static as he pulled you flush against him, chest against chest. "I've missed you dearly."

“Good heavens, Alastor, you’re insatiable,” you chided him playfully with a swat, though the warmth in your tone betrayed your affection. Your fingers lightly brushed against the rough fabric of his torn shirt as you urged him to let you continue tending to his injuries. "Let me fix you up first."

Alastor's ears twitched back as he rolled his eyes at you, but his grip remained firm as he pulled you closer and closer until you were practically dragged towards the bed, falling into his lap with a gentle thud.

"Love," you began to protest, but before you could continue, he silenced you with a deep kiss pressed upon your lips, a low chuckle vibrating against your own, melting any further protest.

He drew back briefly, only to dive back in, his lips tracing a delicate path along your neck. With a familiarity born of passion, his hands roamed, each touch igniting a cascade of sensations that threatened to consume you both.

"Al," you whimpered, unable to resist the intoxicating allure of his touch. As his lips began to trail up your jawline, you found yourself melting into his arms, the tension of the earlier encounter gradually dissipating in the heat of the moment.

He let out a dark chuckle, the sound echoing in the room, as he threw off his ruined coat and loosened the tie around his neck. Gripping onto your hips with a firm hold, he all but threw you off his lap and onto the bed.

The smug bastard. He knew all too well that his affections could smooth over any trouble he found himself in.

"Alastor," you murmured, your senses cutting through the haze of desire, "We really should attend to your wounds first."

Alastor began to move towards you, his claws digging through and tearing the mattress beneath him. "In due time, my heart."

"I am serious," you insisted, ignoring the wide smile you received in return. Alastor merely hummed, a low, melodic sound, as he moved to press himself against you, encasing you in an embrace that felt simultaneously comforting and confining.

You leveled him with a glare. Gritting your teeth, you continued, "What did you even do? I know damn well you didn't get these," you gestured to the charred edges of his shirt, "from an animal."

"Well, dearest, it was from an overlord meeting. You understand how tense politics can become," Alastor countered with a laugh.

"Bushwa," you scowled, jabbing your finger into his chest. "I know a lie when I see one."

"Rather accusatory," Alastor hummed, his tone dismissive.

"Well, I apologize for worrying about my husband, who looks to be on the verge of collapse any moment now," you snapped, frustration seeping into your voice.

"So enough of this," you scolded, your expression hardening. "What did you do?"

"What was necessary," Alastor scoffed, a mirthless chuckle following.

"I'd say he deserved it. You should have seen the way he looks at you," he continued, his voice low and tinged with a hint of warning, the air around him crackling with static.

"Who?" you asked, leaning down to meet his gaze. "There are plenty of people. Plenty of looks."

"Don't act as if you don't notice that pompous television bastard hanging around the hotel nowadays," Alastor's voice crackled with dark intensity, the radio static grew stronger, prickling against your skin and nearly making his words incoherent.

So this is what it's about?

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at Alastor's jealousy, though a small part of you felt a flicker of flattery at his protectiveness.

Your husband's irritation simmered beneath the surface, evident in the subtle set of his jaw and the way his normally smug gaze turned icy. But a mischievous spark ignited within you, tempting you to push his buttons just a bit further, to dance dangerously close to the edge of his patience.

"Are you talking about Vox?" you asked with a smirk playing at your lips. Tilting your head coyly, you met Alastor's gaze with a glint of mischief in your eyes. Your voice was laced with honeyed sarcasm, dripping like molten gold from your lips.

His expression darkened at the mention, a flicker of raw anger crossing his features before he regained his composure.

"You know well who I'm talking about," Alastor's grin was uncanny, his voice carrying the same tone you'd heard the night he faced death. "Don't toy with me."

Despite the seriousness of his tone, you couldn't resist the urge to tease him further. A playful smile danced on your lips as you reached out, gripping onto his tie and pulling him closer, closing the distance between you with a pull.

“What if I found him charming?” you breathed out against his lips, your voice a tantalizing whisper as you ran your hands up the fabric of his undershirt. Your touch was featherlight, fingers smoothing down the wrinkles of his torn button-up with a teasing caress. “I might have let him have me right then and there.”

A sudden sharp pierce of a distorted screech, like a radio malfunctioning, cut through the air, shattering the moment. Claws flying up to grip your face, Alastor broke the kiss and stared down at you with glowing blood-red eyes, their intensity piercing through you. Your breath caught in your chest at the sight, your heart pounding in your ears as you were overcome by a mixture of fear and anticipation.

Alastor called out your name. It was the first time you had heard him utter it in a while. Throughout the years, he had always addressed you by endearing nicknames, leaving you half-convinced that he had forgotten your actual name.

But as the sound of fell from his lips, despite the danger, you found yourself yearning to hear it once more, to feel the weight of your name on his tongue.

"My sweet," Alastor tutted, a screech of radio feedback following him as he cupped your neck in one hand, guiding your gaze back to him. His touch was possessive, firm, and demanding, akin to the control of a puppeteer manipulating his marionette.

"Never utter such words again," he growled softly, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. His grip tightened ever so slightly, sharpened claws a warning of the consequences should you dare to defy him. "No one else shall lay claim to you."

With a defiant tilt of your chin, you met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down in the face of his dominance. "And what if I refuse?" you challenged, your voice steady despite the fear that coiled in your belly.

Alastor's lips curled into a manic grin, his canines shining beneath the lights of the room, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he leaned in closer.

"Then you shall suffer the consequences."

#have this shite drabble sorry for no writing :P i had a competition yesterday and the results come out today + i have prom tonight lolol #sephiewrites #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin vox

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drowninginseaofstars · 6 months ago

Text

Kisses

cw: Ghost lowkey being a creep, brief illusion to Ghost's backstory, death, blood, spit

Before Simon could trust you enough to pull up his mask, his kisses were always through the damn mask. It didn’t matter if the material scratched your skin or felt uncomfortable against your lips; nor did it matter if it leaves a dark damp spot around where his lips would be. He liked it even, leaving his mask on just to wear the smell of you like a cologne.

He huffed like a quiet silent laugh when you pointed it out, said he was being weird.

He shrugged.

There was something strangely intimate yet frustrating in the way he’d insist on kissing you through the mask at every opportunity he got. To your surprise, he does, in fact, love kissing, maybe even too much.

Sometimes he would open his jaw before he kisses you, holding your chin in place so you can see the way the wool stretches opened, his eyes are half-lidded but they’re focused on you.

Like a beast showing his fangs, except you don’t see them.

You feel them.

It pulls against the fabric, itching and struggle to fight against the barrier of the mask, sharp pointy surfaces dragged along your skin. He unhinges his jaw far enough to devour your lips whole, love it when you gasp and tried to pull away, only for him to grip your neck, palm squeezing your waist like a silent warning.

He growls and rumbled deep in his chest, the vibration sending shivers down your spine, he makes sure you feel it, pressing his body close to you, and he drags his head up and down across your face, huffing and nibbling your skin, leaving a wet trail behind.

Like a satiated wolf.

The day he finally lifted the mask to kiss you properly, you almost laughed from disbelief. For all the secrecy, for all the teasing his friends—the rowdy military bunch, his family, had thrown your way about the horrors his mask might conceal, his face was almost... ordinary. He looked like a regular bloke from Manchester, the kind you’d pass on the street without a second glance, often the ones who had the stare that makes your hair stand up. Sure, there were faint scars—a thin line across the bridge of his nose, a small nick on his forehead—but nothing like the grotesque imagery you’d imagined. His chin carried a hint of scruff, spiky and coarse, the kind that scratched against your skin when the angle was just a bit off. You stared at him, insulted by the simplicity of his appearance, and he gave you one of those smirk, the corners of his eyes crinkling as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Disappointed, darlin’?”

When Simon kissed you after months away on deployment, it was as if he’d been wandering a desert, parched and hopeless, finally stumbling upon an oasis, a fresh pond of sweet nectar. You don't get a warning before his lips crashed into yours with a force that bordered on desperation, his hands slipping through your hair, tugging and pulling gently as if to tether himself to reality. All groans and grunt, all growls and bites, pulling away, watching the strings of saliva connecting them. He kissed like the world might end the second he pulled away.

It would. Something in his head said. Voices buzzing, repeating, leaking out his ears, the syllabus tightening around his neck, mumbling something like they'll end up like you, like your mother, you're pulling them into death, always ruining the lives of others—

When he had his fill, when the adrenaline, the noises in his head quiet down enough, he leans down and lays a gentle peck on your forehead, purring something like an apology.

Indeed, there are other times when his kisses were featherlight, tentative, as though afraid he might break you, that he was handling a precious glass sculpture that was you. It was this maddening duality that made you dizzy—the gentleness of a man who’d seen too much pain, juxtaposed with the raw hunger of someone who’d been starved of touch, of sweet things like you.

Then there was the peculiar way Simon fixated on your lower lip. You’ll know it when he pauses a few second too long, eyes blown out and his breath are slow and deep, heavy. He’d tug it gently into his mouth, rolling the soft flesh between his lips lazily. He’d hold your jaw, drifting his bare rough palm down the side of your jugular, squeezing, holding you still, guiding you into the position he wanted, breaking into a mean smile when you protest weakly and writhe around. Sometimes he’d suck on it like a pacifier, his tongue tracing its contour, making you squirm under his touch. Inevitably, saliva would gather and trickle down your jaw, but Simon never seemed to mind.

“Makin’ a mess f’ me, hm?” He grumbled, like he didn’t spit on your lips just seconds ago, mixing your taste with his, slobbering, sticky and disgusting.

Bastard, you think of him, the way he found a quiet kind of joy in this indulgence. Perhaps it was the way your lower lip would puff up, rosy and swollen, making you look extra pouty. Or maybe it was how your nose would scrunch in mild annoyance, your cheeks flushing under his teasing smirk. He loved riling you up, alternating between gently pulling your lip and giving it a playful bite, pulling it like a puppy with its favourite bone. His teeth would graze the tender flesh, leaving the faintest sting, just enough to make you gasp. He’d laugh at your reaction, his voice low and gravelly with a teasing lilt in his tone. For shits and giggles, he’d let you feel the faint scrape of his canines, murmuring something cheeky about marking you.

“My favourite chew toy.” he coos when you whined, clicking his tongue and tutting lowly, shaking his head before he goes back to biting your lips.

You try not to remember the feral glint in his eyes when he tasted copper one time, how he let out a guttural moan, licking away the red slowly, only stopping when you nudged him away.

You catch the same stare sometimes when he sunk his canine just a tad bit deeper, watching your reaction, as if waiting for your permission for him to draw blood again.

Maybe one day you’ll indulge.

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you-know-honey · 8 months ago

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A Strange Guy

Viktor x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5k

Chapter Summary: Jayce needs to go to Undercity for certain materials if he wants to continue his secret project. Which ends up taking him to the only crazy person who take risks to take him. You. Even if it ends up getting you into more serious problems than street fights.

Series: The Path to Zaun

Next Part

N/A: English is not my first language, feel free to correct me in the comments and I'll update it. Remember share if you liked it.

Knock…Knock…Knock

The knocking on the door started softly, like the sound of a drop on wood, almost imperceptible to your ears. The cold air of Piltover came through the window, clean air, so pure that even after so many years your lungs were still not used to it. In undercity you were used to the heavy, dry air, the damp, sticky streets, but above all, dark, where the sun was barely a mirage and everything was ruled by shadows. In the great city of progress everything was full of unusual energy, each piece destined to move with millimetric precision, full of light even at night.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

The knocking became louder, making the beams of your very humble bedroom at the academy vibrate. It was not how you had thought you would end up. A small apartment, so old that you thought maybe Professor Heirmerdinger himself lived there when it was just new, but you couldn't expect anything less, without a last name to bear or a sponsor watching your back it was all you had, and still it was better than having nothing like in undercity.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

You woke up with a start, your back creaking as you stood up from the chair and stretched. Some of your notes were stuck to your face and the ink had been ruined by your drool. You were a complete mess right now, but who would come to your room at this hour? The clock read 2:36 AM. You ran your hands over your face trying to help you wake up and tear the papers off your face.

You walked as best you could to the door, tripping over everything in your way. You swung the door open, through the shadows of the night and your irritated eyes, you focused on a tall, burly man standing in front of you.

“What do you want?” you asked. You weren’t in the mood for whatever that guy needed, besides only one person in the world had the right to visit you in the middle of the night and it definitely wasn’t him.

“Are you Y/N?” he seemed quite nervous, playing with his fingers and avoiding eye contact with you.

You refrained from answering for a moment, if this was some kind of joke from your classmates they would pay dearly for waking you up at this hour. “Who’s asking?”

The boy didn’t seem to expect that answer but he answered as quickly as he could, as if he was holding back from spitting out a wave of words.

“Jayce Talis”

I think the raised eyebrow on your face gave him the message that you had no idea who the hell he was, maybe that’s why he seemed embarrassed.

“Mhmm, and what is Jayce Talis doing knocking on my door?” You leaned back against the door with your arms crossed. “I don’t think you’re coming here just to introduce yourself.”

The boy cleared his throat, as if he was gaining courage to be more firm in his way of speaking.

“You’re from undercity, right?”

“You got it, congratulations.” I joked, giving him a sarcastic, slow applause.

You snapped your fingers in front of him when you caught him looking behind you. “What do you need?”

The academy was very clear about where they wanted to invest the funds they received. The biology faculty was one of the last places on their priority list. It had been years since any of the projects proposed by their students had borne fruit or even been promising. This was the reason why you fell asleep on your desk that night, working on your own project.

“I need you to take me there.”

Your eyes widened before bursting into a loud laugh.

“You? In undercity? Are you crazy?” You’ll be eaten alive.” You tried to stop laughing when the boy’s brow furrowed in disgust, but you couldn’t imagine a guy like him, so well dressed in a place like your home.

The light of a flashlight at the end of the hallway caught both of your attention, your laughter had attracted a police officer who was making rounds in the academy.

“I don’t think you should be here, Jayce Talis” you smiled, ready to close the door and have someone else take care of him.

The man clenched his jaw and clenched his fists, he was annoyed, not at all pleased with you playing with him, the police officer’s increasingly closer steps left them little time to act.

“Hey!” you shouted when the man pushed you aside and snuck into your room, closing the door behind him.

You didn’t say anything when the police officer’s flashlight stopped in front of your door a few seconds before continuing his rounds. The academy was very strict about students in the hallways, their strategy had been foolish and risky. You could scream, alert the police about him…but you wouldn’t, because then you would bear the brunt of the possible punishment.

“What is all this?” he asked, moving from the door to walk curiously around the small living room.

Behind your back, what you had tried to hide from him, was your small private laboratory. The desk was overflowing without space, filled with papers and notebooks in total disarray, one of the walls was completely covered with terrariums, large ones with flowers that possibly no one in Piltover had ever seen before. A sight for someone so curious to Jayce.

“It’s none of your business” you replied, there was no way to excuse the sight, it was just what it seemed. You let yourself fall on the couch reluctantly.

He smiled maliciously “Maybe not, but I bet Professor Heimerdinger did”

Your body rose as if a spring from the couch had lifted it, you grabbed one of the books on the nightstand, the thickest one and threw it in his direction, with such good luck that you managed to hit him directly in the forehead.

“If you say anything I’ll kill you!” you screamed while trying to keep your composure and relax your agitated breathing.

He didn’t scream in pain, although you were sure he would have if it weren’t for the fact that the policeman would have surely heard him and well…it was the female student wing “Crazy…” he sighed while touching his forehead with his fingers, luckily there was no blood. He took the chair from your desk and turned it to sit in front of you, with a grimace you dropped back down onto the couch. “Let’s make a deal.”

You had no other choice so you just nodded.

“Take me to undercity and Heimerdinger will never know about… whatever you do here.” he said as he pointed at the terrariums.

“They’re toxin purifiers…” you muttered under your breath. You weren’t happy that they treated your job like a simple child’s game.

“What?”

“They’re plants that purify the air and earth of toxins, I’m trying to make them work on a large scale.”

“I’ve never seen that kind of plants,” he exclaimed, and it made sense, they were rare and it had been extremely difficult for you to find them, they glowed in the dark, some with leaves that seemed to move like tentacles, others gave the image of a skull.

You let out a small, egotistical and proud smile. “Of course not. They are plants from undercity”

“How did you get them?” he asked, standing up and bringing his hand closer to the glass of one of the terrariums.

“What do you think?” you walked towards him as soon as you saw him approach the terrarium, you had been working on this project for years and you weren’t going to let any of his imprudences ruin it.

He rolled his eyes, you weren’t being easy to deal with, not that you wanted to be. He let out a small growl before turning around to glare at you.

“Are you always this charming?”

“Only with those who enter my room without permission.” You forced a smile.

He sighed again, massaging his temples in frustration.

“Let’s stop playing games, take me to undercity tonight and no one will know about your research. Period.” He crossed his arms, seeming very determined to continue with this crazy idea.

You thought of some way to dissuade him from that, but he seemed too sure and perhaps too desperate for you to convince him. There weren't many undercity students in the academy, you could count them on the fingers of one hand and you would have fingers left over, but you supposed that no one was crazy enough to go down again after all the comforts that the academy offered.

“Why do you want to go?” You asked, giving up, after all if it was something simple you could do it, otherwise you would hit his head with something and leave him in the main hallway so it would seem like it was just a bad dream.

“It's none of your business” he replied, almost in the same tone that you spoke to him.

“You already stuck your nose in my business, it's only fair that I do the same.” He also sighed and sat back down in the chair.

Both of you were realizing that their pride would only lead them to an ego fight until dawn and neither of them were comfortable with something like that.

“I need some machinery parts…” he said, obviously not wanting to reveal too much and biting his tongue to avoid accidentally saying anything too much.

“Machinery parts? You could get that at any market here.” you snorted, finding it ridiculous that he wanted to go down for something he could get in much better condition in Piltover.

“They are specific parts, I couldn’t get them here without raising suspicions” he mentioned, taking a notebook out of his vest.

You hadn’t noticed that he had something inside his clothes, it made your hair stand on end to think that it could have been a weapon and you hadn’t noticed. You swept those paranoid thoughts from your mind to continue listening to him.

“Show me and I’ll tell you where to get it” you walked slowly behind him, leaning an elbow to rest your face on his shoulder, he winced but you didn’t care.

He opened the book to one of the bookmarks, very clever of him, so you wouldn't take a quick look at the rest, on the page there were very specific tools and materials, and you knew that things like that wouldn't be easy to get in the (in your opinion) very basic markets of Piltover, if he said to make them on his own, it would attract the attention of the teaching staff and since this boy had sought you out, that was probably the last thing he wanted.

You looked at the notebook for a moment, hoping to see something that would give you a clue about what he was up to. “You sign every page? A bit of an egotistical on your part.” He just rolled his eyes, but you noticed that he tried to cover his name on the page with his thumb. “Do you have money to pay for something like that? Things aren’t cheap downstairs,” you mentioned, letting your face fall on his shoulder.

“Will this be enough?” he asked, leaving in the coffe table a bag of considerable size with gold coins.

You let out a small giggle. “If you’re not easy to scam, I suppose this is enough.”

“So, do you accept?” He turned his head in surprise, getting too close to yours, both of you moving away from each other as if you were leprosy.

You thought about it for a few minutes, it seemed like something not too difficult to do, go get some gadgets and come back, it didn’t seem that difficult. It would be easy.

“Okay, deal.” You extended your hand to him, who didn’t hesitate to close the deal with a smile.

“So… are we going now?” he asked, like an excited child going on a trip for the first time.

You looked him up and down very critically, everything screamed Piltover boy.

“Not with those clothes.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” he asked, looking at himself for any wardrobe flaws.

“Do you want to be stripped? If you come there’s dressing like that, forget about getting anything.” You crossed your arms, thinking of something that might work, you didn’t think he had a change of clothes in his vest.

“Do you have any ideas?”

An invisible lightbulb lit up above your head, accompanied by a mischievous smile that chilled his blood. “I think so…”

“I hate you.” Jayce exclaimed. If looks could kill your body would be unrecognizable.

“Who goes on an undercity with gold details on their clothes?” you quickly replied with a murmur. It wouldn’t be wise for any police to see them right now.

“Couldn’t you get something better?” he stretched the tight collar of the shirt that clearly wasn’t his size.

“The janitor’s clothes are fine, don’t complain.” You poked your head out of one of the alleys. “A cop is coming. Against the wall.”

For once he heard you, it was funny to see him stick to the wall, a little more force and he would go through it. You did the same, clearly with more class than him. It had been a long time since you had worn those clothes, you had buried them in the back of your closet in the hopes of never wearing them again but somehow it was the most comfortable you had been in a long time.

In Jayce’s case you couldn’t say the same, he looked like a cake in the wrong mold, the poor janitor’s uniform barely fit him, the buttons were trying their best not to jump out of the buttonholes of the shirt, you didn’t even try with the shoes, they were too small so you just limited yourself to putting tape on the gold details and making him step in every mud puddle on the way to the bridge.

When the policeman walked away, far enough so that he wouldn’t hear you, you motioned for him to follow you, both of you successfully sneaking to the end.

“This place isn’t so bad” he said as you walked through the streets of the surface.

“This isn’t undercity” you mentioned, giving him a quick glance before quickening your pace and tightening your grip on the backpack on your shoulders.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, as if he didn’t expect that answer from you. Somehow that irritated you.

Going back to that place simply awakened a huge irritation inside you, you couldn't control it, it was the part of you that kept you alive all that time. Both arrived in front of an old establishment in ruins, next to a dark precipice.

“Do you want the easy way or the interesting way?” you adjusted your backpack and began to stretch all the dormant muscles in your body.

“Which is the interesting one?” He asked, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets when you pointed with your head to the precipice “The easy one, definitely the easy one” he quickly said.

You sighed, you had definitely liked the idea of jumping on roofs and sliding down pipes with the minimum of safety.

“As you wish princess” without warning you entered the place, at the back was the elevator “ I was thinking of giving you the panoramic view tour”

Jayce ran after you, as soon as he set foot inside you turned on the elevator and with the sound of old mechanism working you warned them that they were descending.

The sight in front of Jayce left him with his mouth open. The view only gave an industrial and decaying place, in the darkness the only touch of light were the saturated neon signs of some stores, he was surprised how they were still standing, above them rose buildings more similar to the architecture of Piltover, only a few could afford that luxury, as they went down the air became heavier and more humid with different smells that he preferred not to think about too much, he knew that the path would not be easy when you hid a knife in your pocket.

“Just in case” you told him. It's not like he would be of support if they found themselves in crossfire but at least it would be enough to keep away a few addicts and minor criminals.

The elevator soon filled with people and Jayce felt you press your back against his body to make him crash into the wall, you didn't look at him, nor did you apologize, it was what you were used to doing and he seemed to understand it well.

Each inhabitant had a unique style, crazy and anti-gravity hairstyles, old clothes or with patches everywhere, some with prosthetics made to make them look more intimidating than to take care of their health.

Going down you took his hand and pushed him through all the people in the elevator, you received some insults but you wisely ignored them.

Returning gave you back the feeling of hopelessness you used to live with, remembering all the time you were fighting to survive at all costs. Every inhabitant of undercity was resilient, refusing to let themselves die, clinging to life and the dream of something better with nails and teeth.

You shook your head to clear away that fog of thoughts, you weren't here to go back to the streets, you were here for work. Both of you walked in silence a few more blocks, loud and noisy music could be heard coming from most of the premises.

“Keep your eyes forward” you told him when you caught him looking at a modified weapon in the hands of a thug with an unfriendly face.

He listened to you, like a punished puppy he looked at the ground and let himself be guided to a small and lonely alley where they barely change.

“Why are we stopping?” he asked, he seemed somewhat worried. Sure two academy students caught trying to buy contraband in undercity deserved a considerable punishment if they were caught, but to be honest it was the least of the problems they could face right now.

“Show me what you need to finish this quickly.” He quickly pulled out his notebook in the correct bookmark, it was definitely things he could get here. You examined the sheets for a few moments before rushing over and tearing one of them off.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” he yelled at you, pulling the notebook away from you and putting it back. You didn’t need to see his face to know he was very upset about it, the way his voice sounded and the heaving movement of his chest made it very clear to you.

“I’ll give it back to you later, don’t yell, we can’t go together or we’ll attract trouble.” After all, you were the expert here. “See the beech store?” you pointed with your index finger, there was a white-haired boy cleaning the glass of the entrance.

“The one that says Benzo’s?” Jayce asked, you just nodded.

“Go to that store and look for the rest of the stuff, it’s like a premium junk store.”

“What are you going to do?” he asked as he saw you putting on some goggles that were previously hanging from your backpack.

“I going to get the rest. I'll give you 30 minutes, if you're not out of the store by then you'll be back upstairs alone.” You pulled up your shirt collar to cover your nose. “Don't let them rip you off.” Giving him a friendly punch on the shoulder you ran off until you were lost among the people.

“Wait, you don't have any money!” Jayce shouted your name but the sound was swallowed up by the noise of the people, he had no choice but to trust that you would come back. Resigned, he walked as fast as possible to the store you had indicated, as soon as he entered he was already amazed.

He was greeted by a small child with white hair, who watched him from the counter, following him with his eyes wherever he went.

“Can I touch something?” Jayce asked, in other cases he would have expected the arrival of an adult but his minutes were numbered.

“Only the ones you plan to buy.” The child answered suspiciously while playing with a wrench on the counter. He was almost sure he used the same tone of voice that you used with him all this time.

“Okay…” Jayce shrugged as he looked at all the artifacts carefully to know which one to take “It’s all stolen?” he said to himself.

“Stolen is a very big word, let’s say they were bought without permission” The boy appeared at his side as if by magic “Buy something or leave” the boy crossed his arms in front of him.

Jayce sighed and began to take things and put them on the counter, at first with some laziness and before he knew it he already had a considerable mountain of things and was going for more.

“Why do you need so many things sir?” the boy asked as he noticed how the mountain of things grew and grew.

“I’m going to do something revolutionary” Jayce said proudly, if everything went well it would change everyone’s lives forever.

The boy nodded curiously, he was willing to ask more questions until his curiosity was satisfied but the bag of gold coins caught his eye the instant it was placed on the counter.

“How much would everything cost?” asked Jayce.

The smile on the boy's face was big and malicious. "This would be enough." He quickly grabbed the bag of money and put it under the counter before his naive buyer could complain or change his mind. Jayce was more than satisfied with everything he had acquired, his mind was already plotting how he would put it all to work. He looked at the old and strange clock on the wall of the store. He still had a few minutes of free time before you arrived.

"Waiting for someone, sir?" the boy asked, playing with a gold coin between his fingers.

"Yes," Jayce replied, his gaze fixed on the door, waiting for you to enter at any second.

"What's all that noise?" Jayce asked as he heard screams and moans of pain from outside the store, as well as a huge commotion among the people walking by.

"Some idiot caused a fight." The boy seemed too used to situations like that. He got off the counter stool and approached the door, ready to put up the closed sign.

His hand only stretched a little before returning to his body at a surprising speed. The door ended up swung wide open, cracking glass and wood alike, a hooded figure dropped to the ground, trying to catch his breath.

“Put… everything in the bag… we have to go… Now!” you got up from the ground, taking off your goggles.

“There’s the idiot.” the boy calmly returned behind the counter.

“What the fuck did you do?” Jayce asked as you carelessly threw all of his recent purchases into the backpack and threw it into his arms. “What do I do with this?” your adrenaline began to spread to him, you didn’t have to say anything to him as he adjusted his backpack himself.

“I pissed off the wrong people, we have to get out of here” He grabbed your hand tightly, something that made you scream in pain, you didn’t have enough adrenaline to not feel that your wrist was really hurt. Both of you left the store and ran, you could still hear them shouting your name, it seemed impossible to lose them.

“How are we going to get out of here?” Jayce pushed you into a small alley, both of you too exhausted to take another step, but your pursuers didn’t seem tired at all and they were getting closer and closer.

“You’re getting out of here. Wait for me at the end of the bridge, I’ll lose them.” You let go of his hand before he could stop you. With shouts and exaggerated gestures you managed to get them to follow you. “Hey! Finn! You’re falling behind!” you shouted and said goodbye to Jayce with a wink.

It wasn’t hard to lose them alone, yes of course, they were thugs with guns but you knew Finn well, the last thing he would want is for a bullet to go through his former ‘treasure’. You had run into him while you were walking through the market, taking some things from here and there, just what you thought Jayce might need, you can confess, you got distracted in the food area but who could judge you? It's been years since you tried something homemade. You ended up wandering until you reached the limit between the market and the red light district, there was your limit but there was also him. His eyes were fixed on you like arrows, you tried to calm down as he approached to greet you, you weren't friends, not even good acquaintances, if it were up to you you would erase him from your mind forever. When he got closer, that's when you punched him in the golden jaw and ran away, obviously it didn't take long for him to send his bitches after you.

Getting into that kind of trouble wasn't in your plans, you cursed yourself for having let yourself be guided by nostalgia and curiosity, that shouldn't happen again.

“Come on Y/N, is this how you treat an old client?” Finn’s voice echoed in the desolate street, his thugs had disappeared from your sight but they had to be close, never too far from their master.

You remained silent, it would be foolish to answer him and give away your location while you looked for a way out of there, the cliff you had mentioned to Jayce was close, if you managed to jump over it you could use one of the huge pipes to get out of there and knowing Finn he was too cowardly to follow you there.

You came out of your hiding place with the objective you plain in your mind. A huge hand grabbed you by the hair and slammed you against the wall, your thoughts scrambled a little from the blow, you were dropped to the ground full of broken glass. You tried to stand up as best you could but the small glass stuck in your skin and small rivers of blood dripped from your fingers.

“Aren’t you saying hello to an old friend?” Finn asked, placing his gun under his jaw, as if he were talking to a pet, forcing you to stand up.

“You're not my friend,” you spat the words in his face, he didn't seem to like it very much.

“You’re right…I was much more than that for you” his hands grabbed your thighs and forced you to hug his hips with your legs . “You still remember” He dropped the gun to the ground and quickly caught your wrists with his hand.

The feeling of having his body close to yours was too unpleasant. He made a gesture with his face and his thugs left, you rolled your eyes, hitting your head against the wall, but this time you felt higher than just the wall. You surreptitiously looked up, some rusty fire escapes were above you like a blessing.

A smile settled on your “perfect” face, you let your legs climb up Finn’s body until his face was between your legs and although your hands were trapped you managed to stretch enough to hold the first bar surreptitiously.

“Honey…you know I don’t do that” Finn replied with that stupid and pitiful tone that imitated flirting.

“But I do.”

Before the idiot realized it, your feet were on his shoulders, staining his expensive shirt with dirt, using him to push yourself up and make you touch the last bar of the emergency staircase, getting him to let go of your hands wasn’t difficult, you just hit them against the rusty metal, with the brief moment of freedom you used a bar to balance yourself and push yourself to a more comfortable position until you climbed up and reached the top. Finn tried to follow you but with a couple of kicks the ladder basically crumbled, creating an ideal distance between the two of you.

“Bye Finn” you didn’t stay to hear the answer, you ran as fast as you could before they found a way to follow you.

You ran in the darkness with blind faith that you wouldn’t fall, a dim light indicated that you were approaching the precipice and the sound of pipes greeted you, without hesitating for a second you jumped. It was easy to land on them, they were giants, while you ran back to Piltover you managed to see Finn and his thugs on the edge of the cliff, he wasn't happy at all but that wasn't your problem.

When you got to Jayce he seemed totally nervous and worried, he had dodged a few guards and was afraid that they would have caught you.

“Did you lose them?” He asked just to confirm.

You just raised your thumb, giving a long sigh “Job done”

Jayce sighed just like a worried mother would and both began to walk, this time calmer, without haste and better yet without pursuers.

“So… this is your house?” You asked when both stopped in front of a nice apartment complex in the academic district.

“Yes… umm, thanks for tonight. Without you I wouldn't have been able to get any of this” Jayce shook his backpack a little “I'll give it back to you tomorrow”

“Don't worry…” you turned to leave but a mischievous smile crossed your face “I promise that next time we go I won't get into trouble”

Jayce let out a genuine laugh “Prove it”

Your response was to laugh with him, while you let yourself be absorbed by the early morning mist until you finally disappeared from sight.

That morning, before going to the academy, Jayce opened the door to his balcony while sipping his morning coffee, only to find a small ribbon of stars and beneath it the page you had torn out of his notebook.

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