#but it has to be you that makes it impossible for him

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader

with a hand on the back of your head and another holding your throat, nanami curses under his breath, the sight of you gagging around his cock so filthy that the usually composed man has his knees threatening to buckle from underneath him. 

sweat trickles from the side of his face and there’s a deep shade of blush spread across his nose and cheeks, hiding the freckles you love so much. even the tips of his ears burn, the pleasure blooming everywhere under his skin as he rocks his hips against your face. the first buttons of his dress shirt are undone, a few hickeys already starting to darken on his skin from you nipping at him before dropping to your knees. he’s been working so very hard, and you just want him to let off a little steam – he just needs a bit of a push sometimes. 

so with you sat on his lap, sucking on his earlobe while pleading for him to take a break, it was impossible for him to say no. how could he when he’s got an angel in his arms, playing with his hair and kissing his neck ever so sweetly – he’s a weaker man than he thinks. 

when you slithered down between his thighs and stared up at him with big, hungry eyes, he found himself loosening his tie, his mind already beginning to cloud with the nastiest thoughts. 

ghosting your fingers over the growing bulge in his slacks, you rested your head against his thigh with a mischievous smile etched onto your lips. “c’mon, ken… i want to make you feel good.”

your words come out as a purr, as a siren’s call – you always have been a little tease, always the one to make him break and crumble. 

so here he finds himself now – slacks pooling around his ankles and the hem of his shirt caught between his teeth, trying his utmost best not to fill your mouth with cum after the first ten minutes like some damn teenager. his hair is a fucking mess, dusty blonde strands falling over his forehead no matter how many times he tries to push them back. he’s given up on it now, realizing that there are better things to be doing with his hands – the one on the back of your head, protects you from knocking against the wooden cupboard while the other rests on your neck, marveling the way his cock slides up and down your throat. 

it’s mesmerizing, the feeling of the bulge under the palm of his shaky hand. he’s in there, filling you up like nothing else and it’s the hottest fucking thing in the world. 

his pace is slow and steady, every roll of his hips has your nose nuzzling into his pubes, your chin pressing against his heavy balls. drool trickles from the corners of your mouth and it’s a sight to behold – it dribbles all the way down onto your thighs and from there on onto the floor and nanami can’t help but feel the coil in his stomach tighten faster than ever. you’re the only one that makes him feel like this, who manages to mold him to your own liking all while being down on your knees. 

the tip of your tongue tickles his balls and the growl he lets out makes you clench your thighs together. his shirt falls from between his teeth and he rushes to undo the rest of the buttons, desperate to get the material off of him, so he can give you his full attention once more. it’s exciting to see him this needy. 

you try to look up at him with him still down your throat and as a reward, he moves to stroke your cheek with his thumb. “you’re– you’re doing so good for me, darling.” 

his voice is raspier than ever and the praise that tumbles from his bitten lips has you moaning around his cock. his vision goes blurry for a moment as the pleasure overwhelms his senses. you’re something else. 

you’re fucking perfect. 

the ache in your knees fades in your mind as you get to watch him unravel above you. his strokes become more languid; he pulls out only a little before pushing back in, his tip reaching deeper and deeper with every thrust he makes. he wants to stay inside you, he wants to stay there forever. 

squirming below him, you screw your eyes shut and try to focus on your breathing – but as he stays slotted deep down your throat, it’s getting harder and harder and you can’t hold back the few tears that have been brimming at your lashline.

“f–fuck, i’m sorry, sweetheart… i– “

he feels you struggling, but doesn’t pull out even an inch, only grinding his hips into your face as if he was fucking your tight little hole instead. you claw at the backs of his thighs, your nails marking up his sensitive skin as you gag around him. but nanami’s mindful not to go too far, to make sure that he wouldn’t miss the moment your scratching should turn into tapping instead. as much as he’s enjoying himself, he’d rather die than to hurt you.

he waits for your signal but when it doesn’t come, he presses himself even further down your throat, moaning loudly when you gag around him. his blonde pubes stick to your skin, your spit acting as glue between you. 

your mouth is so fucking warm and tight and, fuck– the obscene sounds that fill his ears are making him lose his mind. you feel divine and it has him wondering what ever did he do to deserve a lover like you. 

all it takes is two pats against his thighs and he’s pulling away, his eyes locked onto your face as you gasp for air. crystalline droplets brim in the corners of your eyes and run over the apples of your cheeks, leaving behind salty remainders of your hard work. your lips are swollen and covered in a mixture of his precum and your own spit. trying to catch your breath, you take a moment before looking back up at him. 

the way his lips part in a silent groan the second you make eye-contact, his chest rising and falling as he strokes his fat cock right in front of your face. there’s still a strand of spit connecting the two of you, from your lips to his tip, and nanami wants to hate how big of an effect such a small thing can have on him. it’s romantic. 

you look ruined. 

he thinks you look absolutely fucking beautiful.

leaning down, he presses a fiery kiss to your lips as a thank you, as another form of praise. he loves the way you taste and they way you feel against him. 

you breathe into his mouth. “more…” 

nanami squeezes his fist around his base, another groan falling from him as he pulls away from you. the grin on your face, the hearts in your eyes and the love pooling on your tongue are more than enough to have him taking in a sharp intake of air – you reach out to him, gentle fingers wrapping around his way bigger ones as you guide him back to your mouth. your heavenly lips. 

as embarrassing as it is, it only takes another few minutes for him to cum down your throat with a loud, deep groan. he holds your neck just as before, feeling the way his own cock twitches inside of you as he gives you his all. 

there’s so much of it that despite you swallowing around him a couple of times, it still pours out from the corners of your mouth, turning you into an even bigger mess than before. but it’s not like you mind – this is exactly what you wanted in the first place. he’s panting like a dog above you, face red as a tomato as he bucks his hips into your mouth one last time. 

the sound that leaves his lips as he finally pulls out resembles a whimper and he lets out a sheepish chuckle, a bit flustered that you managed to pull that out of him. but then again…

it is you. 

his beloved, his love – the one who knows him the best, the one who knows what he needs without ever having to ask. you read him like an open book and he couldn't be more grateful. you're more than he could've asked for. hoped for.

and he loves you.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [4] - Ray of Light

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: A ray of light shines through the clouds.

Word Count: 4242 (to everyone who might be wondering why every chapter is turning 4k+... it's the martini I mean it baby)

CW: Smoking cigars, explicit language, mentions of sex

Series Masterlist

Logan was no stranger to the feeling of restlessness.

For him, it was around every corner; impossible to get away from. Even now, having just returned from the latest mission Charles had sent him on, he couldn’t help but feel like a caged animal, desperate to get out.

He gritted his teeth, slamming the door open to enter his room before he unzipped his suit and took it off, tossing it to the corner of the room. After putting his jeans and white shirt on, he ran a hand through his hair and made his way downstairs to the kitchen. Scott and Jean were already there, perched on the stools while Storm sat on the kitchen island, busy with a file. Rogue was rummaging through the fridge and Bobby was making a sandwich on the counter, still in his suit.

“Do we still not have beer in this place?” Logan asked to no one in particular and Storm looked over her shoulder.

“This place hasn’t stopped being a school since the last time you asked, so no.”

“Great,” he murmured. “Soda it is.”

“It’ll be good for your health,” Rogue said with a grin, then tossed him a bottle which he caught mid-air. He extended his arm in Bobby’s direction without a word and Bobby touched the bottle, making it ice cold.

“Thanks,” he grumbled and pulled himself a seat.

“Why are you in a bad mood?” Storm asked with a curious look in her eyes. “The mission was a success.”

“Is it because that guy almost stabbed you?” Bobby asked, making him frown.

“He didn’t almost stab me,” Logan said as Rogue closed the fridge, nibbling on a slice of pizza.

“When people stab you, do you get annoyed?” Bobby asked and Logan raised his brows.

“More annoyed than right now? Nah, it’s about the same.”

“To repeat, why are you so—” Jean started but stopped talking mid-sentence, a smile pulling at her lips. “Ah. I see.”

“What?”

“We were supposed to come back from this mission around afternoon,” she said. “And it’s Monday.”

Shit.

“Jean, stay out of my head.”

Jean grinned at him. “Oh I’m not in your head. Don’t need to be.”

Scott looked between them. “Is this about Theo’s mom?”

The impact of the simple question was almost instant on the small crowd in the kitchen. Storm immediately put the file in her lap aside to look at him, Bobby stopped making his sandwich and looked up from the jar of peanut butter he had stuck the knife in, and Rogue’s jaw dropped.

Great.

“Wait, seriously?” Bobby asked. “You and her—”

“There’s nothing,” Logan cut him off, forcing himself not to let his thoughts drift to her. “Scott has no idea what he’s talking about as usual.”

“You’re just pissed off because you’ll have to wait until Friday to see her again.”

Logan scoffed. “That has nothing to do with the situation.”

“I think you two would make a cute couple,” Storm said and Jean nodded.

“Oh absolutely.”

“Stop it, both of you,” Logan said with a frown. “And for your information, I could see her whenever I want.”

“I don’t think they’d make a good couple to be honest,” Bobby interfered, “I mean don’t get me wrong but you’re…” he motioned at him, making Logan raise his brows. “You.”

“Nothing gets past your observation skills, does it?” Logan deadpanned while Rogue suppressed a laugh and took another bite of her pizza.

“Opposites attract is definitely a thing.”

Logan opened his mouth to retort, but was instantly distracted when he heard familiar footsteps coming closer to the kitchen, making him look over his shoulder. It wasn’t long until Theo appeared at the door in his pajamas, making Rogue let out an “aw!”.

“Hi Theo.”

“Hi Miss Rogue!” Theo gave them a happy smile. “And Mr. Logan and Miss Storm and Mr. Cyclops and Miss Jean and Mr. Ice Man!”

Even Logan had to admit, the kid was adorable. Theo pushed his glasses up, blinking up at them while holding a huge tin container to his chest as the small crowd in the kitchen greeted him back, making his smile bigger.

“Hi bub,” Logan said and Theo waved at him with one hand while still clutching to the tin with the other.

“What are you doing up at this hour Theo?” Storm asked and Theo looked down at the tin container, then up at them again.

“Um—” he said. “Do you know my friend Ralph?”

Bobby tilted his head. “The fish guy?”

“Yeah!” Theo nodded fervently before pushing his glasses up again. “So he told me his mom never baked him cookies, and—I didn’t know moms didn’t bake cookies because mine does whenever I feel bad, so I told my mom about that and um…yesterday she baked cookies for me to bring here,” he said, pressing his index finger on the tin as if to emphasize his point. “Everyone had one but you weren’t around, Professor X said you were busy, and I stayed up late so that you could have some cookies as well.”

She had baked cookies.

For the whole school.

Logan had to remind himself it was the middle of the night so he couldn’t in fact go all the way to her apartment to see her and kiss her and—

Focus.

He had to focus.

But for fuck’s sake, it was almost agonizing at this point. She was actually, genuinely nice, as if it wasn’t enough that he couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful she was, how sweet she smelled, and just how much he wanted to—

Not going there, he forced himself to think. Focus.

Theo made his way to the kitchen island and stood up on his tiptoes to place the tin on the island, making Jean press a hand on her chest and Storm smile softly. Scott ruffled his hair, making him smile up at him.

“Thank you, Theo,” Jean said. “Please tell your mom we thank her as well.”

“Of course!” Theo said, his voice cheerful. “Good night!”

“Good night bub.”

“Good night Theo!”

“I’m so going to babysit when you two get together,” Rogue said through her teeth as if she was hanging by a thread while Bobby rushed to the container to open it the moment Theo left the kitchen. “I swear to God, Logan—”

“No, I agree with Bobby,” Scott said. “She’s too nice for him.”

Bobby pointed at Scott with the cookie he was holding while Logan flipped him and Storm grabbed two cookies, tossed one to Rogue and turned to Jean.

“I’ll fill Charles in about the mission, are you coming?”

“Sure,” she said and grabbed a cookie as well. “I’ll see you guys later.”

With that they both walked out of the kitchen, Storm talking about what an adorable kid Theo was before Bobby popped the cookie into his mouth, then let out a moan.

“Jesus this is too good!” he said. “No I’m serious Logan, she’s like actually pretty and nice and bakes cookies. When was the last time you did anything nice for us?”

“I saved your life like half an hour ago, dipshit,” Logan pointed out, making Rogue laugh. “And every word out of your mouth makes me think I should’ve sat that one out.”

Scott chuckled and took out a cookie out of the container, then nodded at Logan.

“Do you want to have one or do you want to go ring shopping—” he started but he was cut off when one of Bobby’s friends, Caleb, if Logan wasn’t mistaken, entered the kitchen.

“Storm said there were cookies?”

“Over there.” Bobby motioned at the kitchen island. “Theo’s mom made them.”

“Oh she's such a babe,” Caleb said as he reached out for the container, making Logan turn to him while Rogue made a face. “The things I’d do, seriously, the milf of my���”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence when Logan grabbed his arm and slammed it to the counter while Rogue exclaimed “Ew, Caleb!” and Scott tilted his head.

“Logan,” he said, his voice completely calm. “We’re not slamming students to flat surfaces.”

Logan gritted his teeth, glaring at Caleb whose heartbeat got much faster, the unmistakable scent of fear lingering in the air.

“Caleb, right?” he growled. “Listen Caleb, the next time I hear you talk about her, or even look at her in any way,” He unsheathed his claws, causing Caleb to let out a whine. “I will rip your fucking tongue out. Do you understand?”

Caleb nodded fervently again and Logan clenched his jaw, then pulled his hand back and Bobby grabbed Caleb by his shirt.

“It’s his first time in public, that’s why he is like this,” he said helpfully, dragging him out of the kitchen. “You fucking dumbass….”

“Sure,” Scott said after a beat, turning to Logan. “There’s nothing going on between you and her.”

Logan sipped his soda. “Shut up.”

Scott held up his hands, mocking surrender.

“Just something to think about,” he said with a smirk. “I’m gonna go find Jean. Good night.”

“And I’m gonna find Bobby and smack Caleb,” Rogue said, pushing herself off the counter. “Good night Logan.”

“Good night kid,” Logan said as they both left the kitchen and he narrowed his eyes at the container on the kitchen island before making his way to it. He grabbed a cookie to bite into it, his eyes closing as the sweetness crumbled inside his mouth, making him let out a breath.

A scene flashed before his eyes, something out of a dream; him in a cabin in the woods with her in his arms. He buried his nose into her neck, inhaling her sweet scent into his lungs as he pressed her warm body against his, her heartbeat getting faster before he forced himself to open his eyes again, taking a deep breath.

“Keep it together,” he muttered to himself and popped the rest of the cookie into his mouth, then pushed himself off the counter and made his way upstairs.

                                         *

Throughout the week, it was one mission after the other. He was beginning to think Charles was doing it on purpose, and when Friday finally arrived, as much as he hated to admit, he could barely focus on anything else.

“Come on, to the lake!” one of the boys said as he walked past them. “Ralph, where’s Theo?”

“Professor X wanted to see him, and I think he left already,” he heard the boy say. “Ugh, I was gonna show him this new fish in the lake! It’s huge!”

 Left?

No, he was still around. Logan could hear his happy chatter with someone through the chatter of the crowd but her scent wasn’t anywhere near so he followed Theo’s voice downstairs, stepping out of the building before—

“Have a nice weekend Mr. Logan!”

Logan’s head whipped around as Theo waved at him, then looked up to the man beside him as he took off his backpack so that the man could take it from him. “Uncle Jamie, this is Mr. Logan!”

What the fuck?

“Who the hell are you?” Logan asked the brunette, making him frown at the apparent hostility in his voice, but he didn’t dwell on it.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m Jamie. I’m picking up the little guy today.”

“No you’re not,” Logan scoffed. “Do we even know who you are?”

“You don’t, but the school does,” Jamie said after a beat. “I appreciate the caution but his mother called Professor Xavier beforehand to let him know, so it’s okay.”

“Uncle Jamie, Mr. Logan helped mommy out with the car when it broke down, and he drove her home the other day, I heard mommy talk about it with auntie Julie!”

Jamie tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “…How helpful of him.”

“And Uncle Jamie is the hero who saved me when I was in mommy’s belly, Mr. Logan!” Theo introduced him, making Logan raise his brows.

“Is that right?”

“I was an intern, Theo was a premature birth.”

 “And you do years long follow up with all your patients or is this one a special case?” Logan asked as a dry smile twitched Jamie’s mouth before he clicked his tongue.

“It is,” he said. “I could ask you the same question though. Do you drive every parent home, or is this one a special case?”

Okay no, he did not like this prick.

However, Theo was right there so he had to mind his language, for his sake.

“You know what Theo, I’m pretty sure I just heard your friends say they were going to the lake,” Logan said, making Theo’s eyes widen. “They were talking about this huge fish. Do you want to go with Uncle Jamie or do you want to stick around a little to see that fish?”  

“Really?!”

“Go ahead,” Logan said. “Uncle Jamie will wait. Won’t you, bub?”

Theo didn’t even wait for Jamie’s answer as he darted for the yard, and Jamie gritted his teeth, shaking his head slightly.

“Unbelievable…” he muttered. “Are you even a teacher here?”

“Sometimes,” Logan said with a shrug of his shoulders and Jamie hummed, then took out his phone and touched the screen before taking it to his ear, waiting for the other line to pick up.

“Hi Jamie!”

It was almost funny, how her soft voice managed to put Logan in a better mood instantly but he tried not to think about it.

“Hi sunshine,” Jamie said, making Logan frown. “Listen, Theo wants to hang out with his friends a little more. Should I wait or…?”

“No no, you go back to the hospital,” she said. “I’ll leave in like an hour or so anyway. It’s a good thing that he’s socializing so um—just, let him.”

“You sure?”

“Oh yeah,” she said. “Thank you again Jamie, really.”

“No problem honey.”

“You can follow the way back,” Logan said, nodding in the direction of the gates when Jamie hung up and he heaved a sigh.

“I know your type, you know?”

“I doubt it.”

“No no, I do,” Jamie said, motioning at him. “This whole tough guy bullshit isn’t gonna impress her.”

A cocky smirk curled his lips. “What, are you threatened?”

Jamie scoffed a laugh.

“That’s not what this is,” he said. “It’s just that I’ve known you for five minutes and I can already tell she deserves better than you.”

That—

That was true actually. Even Logan knew that; hell, he had been trying to make himself understand that ever since he had met her, but no matter how much he tried, he just couldn’t.

Knowing it wasn’t enough to make him stop thinking about her.

“Guess you and I have one thing in common then,” Logan stated. “But I seem to be making better progress in a month than you have in years, huh?”

Jamie shook his head.

“See you around,” he said before he walked away and Logan took a deep breath, then ran a hand through his hair.

“Asshole…” he muttered and made his way through the yard to keep an eye on Theo in case he got too close to the lake.

                                       *

The strange thing wasn’t that he smelled her the minute she arrived.

It was what her scent did to him.

As soon as the familiar sweetness tickled his nostrils, his head snapped up and he looked around, then got up from the bench he was sitting on, painfully aware of his heartbeat getting faster. He strode through the yard, away from where Theo and his friends were running around and towards the gates, where her scent was stronger.

He couldn’t help but notice she didn’t smell like him.

Jamie.

He had no idea why he was getting so worked up on the existence of that asshole, but somehow that detail alone managed to soothe the hot jealousy running through his veins. He knew Jamie had a point, he had been saying the same thing to himself ever since he met her, yet it didn’t mean…

There she was.

He didn’t know how she managed to look everyone and everything else in shadows where she herself was the only thing illuminated as if she had her own ray of sunlight falling over her. The mere sight of her was enough to make him stare at her as she waved at him, her heart pacing in her chest as soon as her eyes fell on him, the pleasant sound nearly deafening in his ears—

No.

He had to focus.

Logan had seen wild animals in captivity before. How they would be straining at their leash, how they would be slamming against their cage, nearly blind with the desire to be let loose and lately, whenever she was around, she had the same effect on him.

“Hey stranger!” she said with a bright smile as she reached him. “Are you okay? You seem…tense.”

Shit.

“Me?” Logan asked. “Nah. Hi.”

Good string of sentences there.

“Hi,” she said, looking up at him. “Look at that, you’re here.”

Logan pulled his brows together. “I live here.”

“No no, I meant—” her heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening at the misunderstanding. “Right, of course you do. It’s just that, when I dropped Theo off on Monday you weren’t here, not that I noticed—disclaimer, I definitely did notice in case it has escaped your notice—but you know, I figured you were busy, and then Theo said…”

Alright, why did he find this cute?

Since when did he find things cute?

“And he must’ve seen someone’s suit or something because now he wants one, and I told him he can have one for Halloween but guess who didn’t think that through, because now I’ll have to tell Julie, she’s the arts and crafts person to go to in a situation like this. I’m just going to bribe her with cookies which is everyone’s favorite payment method I feel like …”

Don’t kiss her.

Do not kiss her.

A part of him wanted to go check with Charles to make sure he wasn’t fucking with his mind, to make sure she wasn’t a figment of his imagination because this wasn’t normal. Having her within his reach, all he could think about was pulling her closer, kissing her and taking her to his bed upstairs, to taste her until the only thing left in her mind was his name, her body trembling, her soft voice hoarse while she begged for—

“And I’ll stop talking now because you’re giving me that look again, do I have something on my face?”

Fuck.

She was looking up at him with a small frown pinching her brows together so he shook his head and said the first thing he could come up with:

“I tried the cookies.”

…Yeah no, Charles had to be fucking with his mind to make him this tongue tied.

“Did you?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you like it?” she asked, her heartbeat getting faster like she was nervous to hear the answer and Logan nodded his head.

“It was amazing,” he said, making her let out a breath, a happy light shining in her eyes.

“Really?”

“I’m serious,” Logan said, “The best cookie I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Aw, that’s wonderful!” she said, smiling wide. “I don’t think I’ve met anyone who doesn’t like chocolate chip cookies, so when Theo mentioned his friend I figured— do you know where he is by the way?”

He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

“By the lake with his friends,” he said. “Come on, I’ll take you.”

“Finally in the welcoming tour committee huh?” she joked as she started walking beside him and he chuckled.

“Only for you.”

“Much appreciated,” she said. “I was gonna come earlier actually but there was this thing at work, it was a disaster.”

“What happened?”

“Well, the grill stopped working around the lunch hour,” she said. “They fixed it but waiting for food makes people very grumpy. There was this one customer, he…” she made a face, making him frown.

“What?”

“He was in a very bad mood but thankfully he calmed down when I gave him ice tea on the house.”

Logan shook his head slightly. “You should stop being so nice to people, princess.”

That seemed to make her heart skip a beat, causing a small smile to curl his lips while her hand shot up to her mouth for her to bite at her nail.

“In my defense, that’s not being nice, that’s just being in the service industry,” she mumbled. “Good thing it was fixed fast though.”

Logan hummed.

“So…” he trailed off. “Uncle Jamie then?”

“Oh, you’ve met him?”

“I was around,” Logan lied through his teeth. “When he came here.”

“Yeah, Theo adores him,” she said, nodding her head. “Jamie saved his life when he was an intern—fun fact, some doctors don’t take you seriously when you’re pregnant at 18 and completely clueless, so I knew something was wrong but he was the only one who believed me. He got chewed out by his supervisor but he ended up saving Theo’s life.”

Logan frowned, distracted from the Jamie issue for a moment.

“His father wasn’t there?”

“Nope,” she said with a bitter smile. “He was uh…busy.”

What the fuck?

“Do you know where he is now?” Logan asked, anger shooting through him and she let out a laugh.

 “He’s in the past,” she said. “And he should stay there.”

 He wanted to insist, he really did. The guy sounded like the type of asshole who really needed to get his ass beaten, but before he could ask, she had already changed the subject.

“But yeah, Jamie is amazing,” she said. “He’s very protective, he’s like the brother I never had.”

He bit back the pleased smile threatening to pull at his lips at the second part of that sentence and hummed.

“Yeah?” he said. “Does he know that?”

“Hm?”

“That he’s the brother you never had?”

She blinked up at him in confusion, her brows pinching together before a look of realization downed on her beautiful face, her heartbeat getting faster.

“He does,” she said, nodding her head. “So does his boyfriend.”

…Ah.

He had misunderstood the situation.

That had to be what Jamie meant when he had said “That’s not what this is,” he wasn’t trying to get with her, he was genuinely cautious about strangers such as himself. That whole exchange made sense now, considering the story about him saving Theo’s life; he had met her when she was alone, and had been trying to keep her and Theo safe ever since.

Of course.

“And he’s in a very happy relationship with him,” she added. “Unlike—you know, unlike me who’s not in a relationship at all, totally single. Not that you asked but it’s like…it’s like general trivia about me, and—whoa, today is a hot day isn’t it? Because honestly, it wasn’t this hot when I left the car—”

“Mom!”

“Oh thank God,” she muttered as she turned her head to look at Theo who was running at full speed to them and Logan bit back his grin as Theo reached them and flung himself into her arms.

“I missed you bean!” she said, hugging him tight and kissing the top of his hair. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah!” Theo said, his glasses slipping as he nodded fervently and she pushed them up again with a fond look on her face. The sight sent a warmth through Logan’s chest, a smile he didn’t even notice curling his lips. “We saw a big fish!”

“Really?” she gasped, her whole attention on him, hanging onto every word he said. “How big was it?”

“This big!” Theo spread his arms as wide as he could, making her smile widen.

“Whoa, that sounds big!” she said. “What color was it?”

She was too good at this. Even an outsider could see how excited Theo was to tell her everything, how genuinely happy he was to have her there and how attentive she was with him.

“Gray,” Theo answered. “Mom, maybe it’ll grow up to be a shark!”

Logan tilted his head and she exchanged glances with him as if telling him not to tell Theo it would not in fact grow up to be a shark, and Logan winked at her, making her giggle.

“Maybe,” she said, turning to Theo. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Theo said and she fixed his shirt, then took his backpack from him to swing it over her shoulder.

“Say goodbye to Logan.”

“Goodbye Mr. Logan!”

Logan ruffled his hair. “Have a great weekend bub.”

“I’ll see you around?” she asked and Logan couldn’t help but stare at her beautiful face before reminding himself to pull himself together.

“Yeah,” he said, trying to focus. “Don’t be too nice to people until then.”

Her smile widened and she heaved a sigh, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly.

“Don’t be too mean to people until then,” she replied and took Theo’s hand, walking away with him. He could hear her asking what else he had seen in the lake and Theo listing every single fish he had seen so he watched them until they were out of his line of sight, then let out a breath.

“Fuck…” he muttered, frowning to himself. “She’s beautiful, got it. Get your shit together.”

[snowballseal]

How they react to you having a lot of tattoos

LaDS X Reader

Anon Request: I was curious if you would be willing to write the boys reacting to a partner with a lot of tattoos? I feel like MC is pretty covered up and as someone with full sleeves and a large back piece, it’s always interesting to see how people react to seeing them.

Note: Y’all killing me with these fun requests 🥺 I love this. I only have a few minimalist tattoos, but I want MORE. Thank you for the lovely request, anon. The scenarios were fun to think of.

Word Count: who’s to say 🤷about 1000 each

---

Rafayel

The first time Rafayel sees your tattoos is when you go on a date to the beach. You’re not even thinking about it as you change in the bathroom. When you decided to become a hunter, you knew you would have to cover up your tattoos. The policy, while being outdated in your mind, isn’t all that bothersome since you prefer to wear long sleeves anyways.

So it never occurred to you that Rafayel had never seen the full expanse of the ink on your body.

Which is why, when you step out and his eyes go impossibly wide as he looks at you, mouth dropping open, you’re first and foremost confused.

“What?” 

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you feel an inkling of insecurity curl in your chest as you look down at your two-piece. It’s nothing immodest, just a blue bikini that you thought was cute and also met your standards for support. It’s a little frilly, but a part of you thought he’d love that. 

“Do you not like it? I don’t uh, I don’t have anything else to wear…” Your voice comes out uncharacteristically meek.

That seems to snap Rafayel out of his daze. The artist shakes his head, the tips of his ears going positively red, as he still can’t rip his eyes from the lines decorating your skin. He reaches out, tracing the gentle petals of a flower on your waist.

“How come you’ve never shown me these, cutie?” He asks, voice touched with awe.

Oh. Heat creeps up your neck. So that’s what he was on about. You glance down at your body. You suppose it is a little jarring. It’s not like you’re covered head to toe, but you’re definitely a well covered canvas. Both of your arms have partial sleeves that curl up around your shoulders and continue along your collarbone. A large collection of flowers adorns the right side of your waist, traveling down your hip and turning into a pattern of vines down your leg. You have a few other ones, some silly, some heavy with meaning.

“Sometimes I forget I have them,” you admit a bit bashfully. Rafayel gives a low hum and your breath catches as his fingers continue to trace the lines on your waist, his touch warm and ticklish. “I’ve had some of them since before I started training.”

“I have to say, I’m a bit jealous that another artist has touched your body,” he murmurs, voice dropping to something low. His hand slips around your waist, drawing you closer so he can trace his lips over the intricate ink on your collar bone, ocean eyes glinting up at you with something possessive yet overflowing with adoration. “But even I have to admit this is beautiful work. Befitting my queen.”

Your cheeks go warm. As red at the tips of his ears. There’s something so reverent about his touch and it makes your heart flutter wildly, but you’re all too keenly aware that you’re still in public.

Not that it stops you from poking the fish.

“Would it make you feel better to know my newest one is for you?” You ask, reaching to touch his cheek with a teasing smile.

Rafayel’s face lights up. He draws back immediately, looking over your tattoos like an eager child until he spots the fresher ink on your left leg. You stifle a giggle as he drops to his knees, fingers curling around your ankle to pull your leg off the ground so he can get a better look. 

“Rafayel!” You bark out a laugh, balance stolen away. It forces you to lean on him just so you don’t fall over. “Geez, I could have just sat down, you know!”

“This is for me?” Rafayel, oblivious to your complaints, grazes his fingertips tenderly along your skin.

Shaking your head, you give his hair a playful fuss, “Yes, you impatient fish. It’s not done yet, but it’s about us.”

It’s the beginnings of an ocean scene. A beach circles right above your ankle, depicting the silhouettes of two younger kids, their hands clasped in a promise. As the ink continues up your leg, it transforms into what looks like a night sky, but instead it’s water, swirling lines of blue and purple, full of schooling fish, one in particular standing out, bright red among the cool tones. A familiar symbol. And on the back of your calf swims a graceful looking figure, reaching for the light, edges blurred between fish and man and water.

A lump forms in Rafayel’s throat as he touches the red fish, a familiar warmths spreading across his chest as the same symbol glows faintly. Seeing it on you fills him with an emotion he can’t quite explain.

“You do realize what this means, right?” Those ocean eyes flicker up to you. They glint like dark pearls, iridescent and beautiful, yet carry a depth of emotion that makes your breath catch.

“I do,” you answer unwaveringly.

Rafayel’s lips pull into a small smile. He never expected someone to do something like this for him. Though, of course you would. And it’s beautiful.

“It’s a stunning piece,” he murmurs eventually, leaning forward to press a kiss to your knee, right above the ink, his hair tickling your thigh, “Though I still think the canvas is the most beautiful thing of all.”

A snort escapes you and you bite your lip, heat rushing back to your cheeks, “You’re ridiculously corny, Rafayel.”

“I know.” His smile shifts into a wolfish grin as he stands up, scooping you into a hug. You squeal as he spins you around, holding on tightly despite knowing he’d never drop you. It’s only when you’re positively red that he stops, his mirthful eyes watching your face. “It’s worth it if I get to see this face. I swear, cutie, if you do more things like this, I might become unbearable.”

“You never could,” you giggle and loop your arms around his neck, “Though, I was thinking maybe next time, you could come with me?”

Rafayel raises an eyebrow, “Oh? You want to get matching tattoos? I’ll admit, I’ve never considered it…but if it’s with you, I can’t think of anything more fitting.”

“You’ll have to design it, of course,” you hum, tone turning a little more excited, “Oh, I can’t wait! It’ll be so fun! We can do it the next time I take a break, and after swimming season, obviously.”

Leaning in, Rafayel gives you a short kiss, laughing against your lips, “Anything you want, my lady. As long as it’s with you, I’ll enjoy every minute of it.”

---

Zayne

The first time Zayne sees your tattoos is when you reunite at Akso. You’re not sure how long it’s been, having only seen him every so often at Grandma Josephine’s for dinner. All you know is that he’s been busy, and is now one of the most remarkable young doctors in Linkon.

And also your new primary care physician.

“Knock knock.” 

You rasp your knuckles lightly against the door to his office, eyes lingering on the nameplate displayed prominently beside it. A strange sense of pride swells in your chest. To think, your childhood best friend would reach such heights.

“Come in,” Zayne calls, voice as aloof as ever.

You slip into his office and let the door shut behind you. The doctor sits at his desk, flicking through a file on his tablet. You hesitate on the edge of his peripherals, not sure exactly what to do or how to act. It’s been a long time since you two have been truly close, not since- But you’ve missed him.

A lot.

“My apologies, my previous surgery ran longer than expected so I am still collecting your records.” You blink, his voice drawing you back out of your thoughts. “You may take a seat if you’d like.”

“Okay.”

Maybe you’re the only one who feels weird about it. He seems completely unaffected, like you’re a normal patient, ever the professional. You awkwardly drag a stool a little closer to his desk, just far enough to not seem weird and so it doesn’t feel like you’re looking over his shoulder.

After the silence goes a tick too long, you can’t help but break it, fingers fiddling nervously with your sweater, “How have you been, Doctor Zayne?”

A faint smile ghosts across his lips. You haven’t changed one bit. 

“I’ve been well, thank you for asking. Work has become quite constant, so I’m afraid I haven’t been able to accept many of Josephine’s dinner invitations.” His eyes dart over to you briefly before focusing back on his screen. “You look like you’ve been doing well since we last saw each other.”

“I have,” you chirp, anxiety easing up a bit, “I’m really close to being finished with training and finally joining the Hunters Association. You should try to make it to dinner this week though! Grandma really misses you. She talks about you all the time.” You falter, cheeks warming a little. “...We’re all really proud of you, Zayne.”

Zayne’s fingers freeze against the tablet. An indecipherable look crosses his face, but he schools his features quickly and gives you a small smile.

“Thank you…you both have always been so kind to me,” he murmurs and finally turns to face you, “I’ll try my best to make it to dinner this week.”

Your face lights up, excitement sparking in your eyes. “Okay! I’ll let her know! She’ll probably make all your favorites. They haven’t changed, right?”

Zayne shakes his head, and you can’t help but kick your feet giddily. It’ll be nice to catch up. You have so many questions, and also so many stories to tell from your training days.

“Now that those plans are made, shall we proceed with your exam?”

“Right, right.” You almost forgot that’s what you’re here for. Nerves coming back, you shuffle on top of the stool. “What do you need me to do?”

“First, if you would remove your jacket, I’ll take your blood pressure and listen to your heart,” he instructs, voice settling back into something professional and neutral.

As Zayne turns away to fetch whatever tools he needs, you make quick work of taking your jacket off. The room is a little chillier than you expect. You wrap your arms around yourself to chase away the goosebumps that erupt across your skin. Your eyes stay glued on Zayne though, watching as he pulls a stethoscope and blood pressure monitor from one of his drawers.

“Do you usually do exams in your office?” You ask offhandedly.

“Not usually. As a cardiothoracic surgeon, I don’t often conduct general exams,” he hums, cleaning off the blood pressure cuff with a sterile wipe.

“Am I special or something, then?”

“With the rarity of your protocore syndrome, I thought it would be most effective to handle your care myself, yes. Though if it makes you uncomfortable we can-”

Zayne’s words cut off as he finally looks back at you. Surprise flickers across his face.

You freeze like a deer caught in headlights, though you don’t know why. Is there something on your face? A stain on your tank top? You glance down, finding nothing of the sort.

“What? What is it? Do I have something on me?” Your hands flicker up to your face, but you don’t feel anything.

Zayne blinks and shakes his head as if coming out of a stupor. The lightest blush warms his ears.

“My apologies. I just wasn’t aware you had so many tattoos.”

Oh. Holding out your arms, you look over the expanse of ink on your skin. You guess it’s a lot. It has taken you a few years, but you’ve effectively covered your arms and shoulders in art. Most of it is florals, with small, meaningful symbols or items hidden in the foliage. You also have a few others, though they’re covered by your clothes.

“I guess you wouldn’t have seen them,” you hum thoughtfully, “I wear a lot of long sleeves to Grandma’s dinners. And work requires us to cover them up.”

“They’re quite intricate.” He sets his tools aside, drawing his chair closer to you. His hand reaches for your arm, but pauses, his eyes darting up to yours. “May I?”

“Go for it,” you whisper, feeling a little bashful now that his attention is focused solely on you.

His fingers graze your wrist lightly, as if he’s scared to press too hard. You watch as he silently turns your arm over, taking in every minute detail of your tattoos. He lingers a little longer on the small, anatomical heart at the center of it all, surrounded by gentle jasmines. They’re incredibly well done, even he can see that, and they all look like they were done some time ago.

Something melancholic and sentimental settles in his chest.

“I remember when you were just a little girl, crying over her popsicle…You truly are all grown up now, aren’t you?” His voice is thick with something you can’t quite pinpoint, his touch turning impossibly tender as he traces the lines up your elbow.

Your heart flutters a little too wildly for your likings. “You’re all grown up too, mister chief cardiac surgeon. That’s a lot bigger than some tattoos.”

Another smile pulls at his lips, breaking his impassive facade.

“These have all healed well, though,” Zayne says, a spark of mischief flickering in his eyes as that strange emotion recedes, “You must have taken good care of them, and that alone is an impressive feat for you. That’s how I know you’ve grown up.”

A mock gasp escapes you and you pull your hand away to press it against your chest. If only to break the contact so he doesn’t notice your racing pulse.

“Doctor Zayne, I am deeply offended at your insinuation,” you insist vehemently, “I am a responsible person, soon to be an amazing hunter! I know how to take care of myself.”

“Says the woman who walked on a sprained ankle for a week out of pure stubbornness.”

“How was I supposed to know it was sprained?”

“I told you it was.”

---

Xavier

The first time Xavier sees your tattoos is after a mission that doesn’t go quite right. You come home with a bandage wrapped around your shoulder and chest, and the added instructions to change the gauze once a day. Which, of course, you can’t do yourself.

“Xav?”

Xavier glances up from where he’s sitting in the sun, a book long forgotten in his lap. Those sleepy blue eyes land on you questioning. You shuffle awkwardly in the doorway, a roll of gauze in your hand.

“Would you help me real quick?” You mumble, a soft blush warming your cheeks, “I can’t uh, I can’t change them myself.”

“Of course,” he hums immediately, standing and stretching languidly, much like a cat. “I am at your service, my lady.”

“Thanks,” you sigh, shoulders sagging, which sends a twinge of pain down your arm.

It was a nasty cut. You had been so focused on fighting one wanderer that you hadn’t noticed another smaller one appearing behind you. It was your fault, and thankfully it didn’t hit anything serious, but it was in just the right place to make moving your arm difficult.

Xavier silently leads you back into the kitchen. Taking the bandages from your hand, he pulls out a chair and motions for you to sit. You do so carefully, not wanting to jostle your body too much. The hunter sets the gauze aside and kneels down in front of you, his fingers finding the hem of your sweater and pausing, placid blue eyes turning up to you in question. 

Ever the gentleman.

A tiny smile pulling at your lips, you offer him a small nod. That’s all he needs to pull it off, his hands moving slowly, with the utmost care. Thankfully, the room isn’t too cold, the setting sun pouring through the window and warming the space. The fabric musses your hair as he slips it over your head, and you instinctively reach up to fix it.

Completely missing the way Xavier’s eyes go wide as he looks down at you.

There aren’t a lot of things that catch the hunter off guard. But the ink covering your skin certainly does. Even with the bandages, he can tell it’s expansive, curling around your shoulders, dipping down your upper arms, painting the entirety of your back. It’s reminiscent of Starry Night, hundreds if not thousands of strokes forming delicate lines that follow the natural curves of your body, flowing so beautifully that they practically beg his fingers to trace them.

And as always with you, Xavier has a startling lack of self-control.

You blink at the feeling of his fingers grazing your uninjured shoulder. His touch is so light, you could almost mistake it for a breath. Almost like he’s worried he’ll hurt you.

“Is something wrong?” You ask, voice twinged with concern as you try and twist to look at where his touch lingers against your skin.

“Stay still,” Xavier orders gently, and you freeze, brows arching in confusion. Realizing you're panicking a little, the hunter leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, offering a soft explanation, “You never told me you have so many tattoos. I simply want to appreciate them.”

“Oh.” Your nerves fizzle out, replaced with an embarrassed tinge of excitement. So that’s what this is about. “I forgot I haven’t shown you them yet. I guess I’m so used to them that I forget they’re there, especially since I have to cover them for work.”

Xavier shifts behind you, fingers following the lines over your shoulder. They bleed into a wash of color, dark blue and purple and pink splashes across your back. A small planet of light sits between your shoulder blades, numerous stars dancing around it. His touch lingers on the planet, a flicker of light spilling from his fingers as his evol reacts unprovoked.

“What made you choose this?” He asks, voice wavering imperceptibly. 

“I’m not sure,” you hum, shrugging your good shoulder, “I’ve always liked space. My grandma used to take me to the planetarium a lot when I was young, and I used to have dreams about it, of floating between planets and exploring the stars. I always felt drawn to this one planet, it was so pretty and it looked like it was made of light, but I could never reach it…”

Philos.

Something twinges in Xavier’s chest. How strange. You don’t remember the planet, that’s for certain, yet some part of you was still connected to it. To your home. To him. All this time…

“It’s beautiful,” he all but whispers.

Heat tinges your cheeks. That’s not usually what people say. It’s not for everyone, you know that. It’s a lot of ink, but you dreamt for so long about getting it. Still, most people usually just make offhand comments, not exactly rude, but not exactly compliments either. Like, oh that must have hurt a lot. Or, you must have saved a lot of money, huh?

Never beautiful.

And yet Xavier traces your ink with what almost feels like admiration. It makes your heart flutter with an uncharacteristic shyness, shoulders jolting up to your neck.

That’s when you remember your injury.

Letting out a low hiss, you drop your shoulder quickly as pain sizzles down your arm. Both of you had practically forgotten about it, caught in the moment. Xavier’s brow furrows again, an apology floating past his lips as he draws his fingers away - much to your disappointment.

“It’s okay,” you breathe, offering him a weak smile, “I just pulled it a little funny. We should probably check it, though.”

“Alright, I’ll be gentle,” he murmurs as he reaches for the edge of your bandage.

“...Thanks, by the way.”

You’re not sure what exactly you’re thanking him for. Helping you or his sweet reaction to the art decorating your skin. Maybe both.

And Xavier must know. He leans down, lips ghosting over your shoulder is an adoring kiss.

“Of course, my star.”

---

Sylus

The first time Sylus sees your tattoos is, of course, on the night you attend the auction. There’s no hiding the ink covering your body when you’re wearing a dress, after all. If anything, though, you think they’ll help you fit in a little better in the N109 Zone.

And you love the reaction Sylus gives you when you step out into the foyer.

For the briefest moment, his eyes go wide. Shock, perhaps the rarest emotion you’ve never had the pleasure of seeing on him, flashes behind those carmine eyes. In an instant, it disappears though, hidden with his usual cocky expression, one of his fine brow ticking up in amusement.

“I’ll admit, sweetie,” the man hums, “You’ve surprised me.”

You flash him a cat-like grin, satisfaction burning deep in your veins, and give a little theatrical spin, “Not what you were expecting, huh?”

Hardly a single part of your body remains untouched by ink. Most of the designs are artistic. Flourishing lines twisting and curling around your muscles, strangely reminiscent of the form his evol takes. They form a network of delicate webs across your body, sometimes forming shapes, sometimes with words written along the fine linework. 

It’s hauntingly beautiful. Sylus can’t help but let his eyes slowly rove over your form, taking in every detail. They’re like a map, and his fingers are itching to explore every part of you, to see just how far the ink slips below the hem of the dress. A dress which he bought for you yet can’t be bothered to even notice now, not with such a dazzling sight set before him.

“Who knew the kitten would turn into a tigress at night,” he murmurs, voice going low and teasing as he slowly circles around you, a predatory glint in his eyes.

Your boldness wavers. 

Sylus always seems to have that effect on you. Like a lamb straying from the herd and being found by the wolf. Prey before a predator starved, maw open and hungry, as if he could consume you whole. And all you can do is hold your ground, even if your legs shake, like that little lamb’s.

“Careful, Sylus,” you whisper, trying to appear unshaken by not following him with your eyes, despite the unease you feel not knowing exactly where he is, “This tiger has claws.”

You feel more than hear his presence come up behind you. A shiver traces down your spine when his breath skates over your ear, warm and far too intentional. In the same way, his fingers trace reverently down your arm, following the path of your ink, until they can intertwine with yours and draw your hand up to his lips.

“And that’s how I prefer you.” His voice is low, a mere rumble against your skin as he kisses your knuckles. Another shudder. “After all, it would be a shame to declaw such a beautiful creature. Even if she likes to scratch.”

God, you hate him.

You hate that it takes everything in you to rip yourself away from his enticing warmth. You hate that your heart is racing against your ribs, like it’s trying desperately to escape. And you especially hate the absolutely smug grin that plays on his lips (and the fact that you want to kiss it so badly).

“You’re teasing me,” you breathe unsteadily, putting space between the two of you.

Something dark flashes in his eyes, “Whatever do you mean, sweetie? I was merely giving you a compliment.”

“Then you give weird compliments,” you fire back, arms wrapping around yourself. “It sounds more like you’re making fun of me.”

Sylus pauses. Those ruby red eyes narrow on you thoughtfully, his lips pressing into a thin line. A tick of silence. Then his expression smoothes into something almost soft, and he takes a few measured steps towards you. Long fingers graze your palm again. A question.

And you give in far too easily, not fighting as he intertwines your fingers once again. His other hand skirts along your exposed shoulder, following the lines of your tattoo as they fade at your neck. You’re frozen under the sudden tenderness of his touch, your pulse racing against his fingertips.

“My apologies, kitten. That wasn’t my intention,” he murmurs, eyes boring into yours with an unnerving genuineness, “I simply meant that your tattoos are...befitting of your character. You are truly…” He looks you over once more, his gaze leaving a tantalizing heat in its wake. That dangerous smile curls his lips again. “Captivating.”

You inhale shakily.

No one has said something like that to you before. Not that you can remember, at least. It would sound cheesy from someone else, but from Sylus? The intensity of his tone leaves you feeling as unsteady as your heart. Lightheaded.

All you can do is blink up at him, eyes wide and doe-ish. No smart retort or comeback. Your mouth, in fact, feels remarkably dry. It fills the man with a touch of pride, rendering you so speechless.

Not one to let you stay dumbfounded for too long, though, Sylus lets out a smooth chuckle and taps your chin, “Careful, sweetie. If you look at me like that, I might just think you’re falling for me.”

Which of course works. Because he knows you better than you know yourself.

“I am not!” You squawk, face going up in flames. “You just surprised me, that's all! I didn’t know you were capable of such niceties.”

Sylus grins, drawing away as you swat at his hand, “Then it seems that we’re even.”

You scowl at him. So not fair.

“Now, would you like to accompany me to this auction, sweetheart?” He offers his arm. You keep your pout up for only a few seconds before giving in and slipping your hand around his elbow begrudgingly. Sylus hums in amusement, leaning in to press a ghost of a kiss against your cheek. “Looking like this, you’ll have no trouble getting the results you’ve been searching for, tonight. You’ll be the perfect distraction, my dear.”

“Well then, let’s not keep them waiting, shall we?”

---

Not gonna lie, Sylus' was probably my favorite. In my head I was kind of picturing the tattoos that Anthony Padilla has (from smosh, yes, sue me), and I just think he would totally call you a tiger since he likes calling you kitten.

Hope y'all enjoyed!

I'm really feeling some angst next possibly...

[my-castles-crumbling]

teeth - jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 298

"Let's draw each other!"

James's suggestion comes out of nowhere, spoken into the calm air of the lazy afternoon as they lean on each other outside by the lake. But as usual, his enthusiasm is contagious, so Regulus soon finds himself facing the older boy, tongue poking through his teeth in concentration as he tries in earnest to draw the exact way James's perfect upper lip curves into his jaw-dropping smile.

But he finds it impossible. How can he even begin to translate on paper how James makes him feel? The way the other by makes him want to forget all of his worries, even if just for a moment. They way his body physically feels lighter around him.

He tries, though. And by the end of the time, he feels like he hasn't done awful. Secretly, he's always kind of liked drawing, so he can hold his own with some charcoal and a paper.

"Ready, baby?" James is bouncing up and down excitedly, and it's making Regulus nervous. How much better has James done? Will he embrarass himself?

But as they flip their papers at the same time, he can't help bursting into a shout of laughter. "James! Is that--me?"

It clearly is supposed to be. But it looks like a child drew it. A messy stick figure with a huge head of curls, balancing precariously on a body so small it's laughable.

James, however, isn't upset. "I gave you a book, see?" he asks happily, pointing out the square in the stick figure's hand.

"Yes, love, I see," Regulus laughs, warmth and adoration bubbling inside him.

And when Barty makes a rude comment about the drawing later as Regulus hangs it above his bed, he makes sure to hit him with a particularly painful stinging hex.

[comicaurora]

Do you think the main characters (in aurora)’s fatal flaws can be summed up in one word? If so, what are they?

Yes, but most of my answers only register as flaws if you squint. I think characters are most interesting if their admirable qualities are also what gets them in trouble, and anything becomes a flaw in the right circumstances.

Kendal is selfless. He barely registers himself as a person, so his acts of compassion frequently come at a severe personal cost. He has a massive blind spot for how much it hurts others when he hurts himself. He is kind and lacking in ego, but he has zero ability to advocate for himself. He defines himself by what he can do for others, and is only barely beginning to understand that he can do things for himself.

Alinua is paralyzed. She wants to heal and she does not want to hurt, and she's wrestling with a massive, terrifying power and responsibility that allows her to do both. She spent so long terrified of hurting anyone that she overthinks her actions unless she's running on pure adrenaline and impulsiveness can take over for her.

Erin is independent. He's quicker than everyone around him, and he has no patience for anyone who he sees as slowing him down. He is tremendously powerful and very intelligent, but he has absolutely no ability to work in a team, because that means trusting others to execute his ideas flawlessly, and from his angle, nobody can do that reliably except for him. It's not a logical conclusion, but he can always find a reason for why his plans were foiled by other people messing them up. Erin would love to be helped and rescued. He just knows nobody can, and nobody will.

Falst is loyal. Falst is also unbelievably lonely and, like Erin, has cultivated extreme self-reliance in the face of neglect. Falst loves being part of a team, but has absolutely no ability to trust that he is safe in it. He hasn't been wanted anywhere in a very long time. He's too proud to say that, and he's very angry at the part of himself that is hurt by that, which makes him very volatile in very specific contexts where that part of him is exposed to the air.

Dainix is insightful. He reads people too clearly, but has very little understanding of how much it's okay to plainly say about what other people are thinking and feeling. Where he's from, thanks to the magical influence of Fire, the seat of emotion, everyone can to a certain extent feel the vibes and temperature of the room and everyone is mostly on the same page about it. He is utterly unprepared for people like Falst who become extremely defensive at any insight that prods a sensitive spot, and he's pretty much hopeless at performing any deceit more complex than a half-truth.

Tess is free. She's the ideal of wanderlust, and living her truth is good for her, but it makes her fundamentally unreliable for everyone around her. She cannot be comfortable in stability, and she is ultimately following a selfish goal of pure self-determination that makes it impossible for her to stay anywhere long. She is disconnected from her surroundings and the people who love her. She doesn't like thinking of her loved ones as tethers holding her down, but if she stays anywhere too long, that's what they become.

[requiemforthepoets]

lipstick kisses 𖦹 LN4

part 3 of dog dad lando series

PAIRING: lando norris x female!reader

SUMMARY: you would always get random cuteness aggression towards thor, but today, you might have smothered him too much, causing him to have lipstick kisses all over his face.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i wanted to post this first before i post the requests. if you have some request/prompts, feel free to send it and i’ll work on it. this is another one shot to the dog dad lando series, hope you’ll enjoy this one! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 1.4k

WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, cuteness aggression, all photos are grabbed from pinterest, and no use of y/n

The sound of your laptop closing echoed in the quiet apartment as you stretched, with your muscles relaxing after hours of your online meeting. It has been a very long day, but finally, you can unwind. With a sigh of content, you got up from your seat and changed from your formal attire to some comfortable clothes, which is one of Lando’s white shirts and some shorts. You quickly made your way to the living room, threw yourself on the couch and grabbing the remote, scrolling through Netflix until you landed on The Crown—your latest hyper fixation calling out for your name, and with Lando busy doing a stream with Max, the living room was yours.

Settling into the couch, you pulled a blanket over your lap, getting ready to immerse yourself in the drama unfolding on the screen. The room was dim, illuminated by the light from the lamp and the flickering light of the television. Not long after, Thor padded into the room, his fluffy white fur practically glowing in the low light. He jumped up onto the couch beside you, his big round eyes staring up at you as if asking to join in on your little Netflix binge.

You smiled, absentmindedly running your fingers through Thor’s soft fur while you kept your eyes glued on the screen. “Hey, buddy,” you whispered, feeling a wave of affection wash over you.

Your petting became more deliberate, and the next thing you knew, Thor was already nestled on your lap, gazing up at you with those impossibly cute eyes. Suddenly, you felt that all-too-familiar rush of cuteness aggression. The kind that made you want to squeal and squish something so adorable that it hurts.

“You’re just too cute, Thor,” you cooed, your voice rising an octave. You leaned down and began planting kisses all over his fluffy face. “How are you this stinkin’ cute?!” Another kiss. “How is this even allowed?” And another kiss. You were completely absorbed in showering your baby with affection, blissfully unaware of anything else.

Meanwhile, Lando had quietly stepped out of his streaming room for a quick break, intending to grab one of his drinks from the kitchen. As he walked towards the kitchen, he immediately paused when he caught sight of you on the couch. His lips quirking up in amusement, eyes sparkling as he took in the scene. There you were, in your mid-cuteness aggression, holding Thor and peppering him with kisses like you couldn’t help yourself.

Lando chuckled softly to himself, careful not to make any noise that would let you know of his presence. Instead of interrupting, he pulled out his phone and discreetly filmed the moment, capturing how you lovingly attack Thor with your kisses. Once he had enough footage, he saved it, already planning to post it on his Instagram story later. With a smirk, he quickly grabbed his drink and slipped back into his streaming room, shaking his head as he settled back into his gaming chair.

“You guys won’t believe what I just saw,” Lando said with a laugh, speaking to his chat. “She’s having a full-on cuteness meltdown over Thor in the living room. I’m pretty sure Thor’s drowning in kisses right now.”

Meanwhile, back in the living room, you finally pull away from Thor, your cuteness aggression fading as you let out a satisfied sigh. Thor jumped off from your lap, ready to do his own thing, and as you turned back to the screen, something caught your eye. You squinted at Thor’s fluffy white face. Lipstick marks. Everywhere. You burst out laughing at the result of your cuteness aggression, unable to control the giggles as you realized what you had done.

“Oh no, Thor!” You exclaimed, wiping away tears of laughter. You reached for the pet wipes on Thor’s cabinet of necessities. “Come back here! I need to clean you up, my love.” But before you could grab him, Thor was already scampering off—straight towards Lando’s streaming room.

“Thor!” You called, but he was too fast, already gone. You could only shake your head, stifling another round of laughter as you imagined Lando’s reaction when he saw Thor covered in your lipstick.

The sound of your voice calling for Thor grew closer just as he dashed into Lando’s streaming room, leaping onto Lando’s lap like it was his favorite spot in the world. Lando blinked in surprise, pulling his headphones slightly away from his ears and glancing down at Thor, now comfortably settled in his lap.

“Mate, what—?” Lando started, then burst out laughing as he finally took in Thor’s appearance. The once pristine, white snow fluff was now covered in your lipstick marks, a splotchy red all over his cute little face. Lando leaned forward to show Thor to his stream, his grin widening.

“Guys, look at this!” He chuckled, turning Thor toward the camera so everyone could see the incredible masterpiece. “Thor’s just been absolutely smothered by kisses. Someone’s been a little too affectionate.”

His chat immediately blew up with laughing emojis, hearts, and comments, with people demanding a closer look. Lando quickly grabbed his phone and took a photo, smiling as he saved it. He turned his attention back to the stream, about to read one of the chats, when he heard your voice calling out for This again from the hallway.

“Thor! Where are you? Get back here right now, I need to clean you up.”

Lando smirked, lifting Thor a little higher. “Looks like someone’s in trouble,” he said playfully to his audience, giving Thor a conspiratorial glance. “Running away from mummy again, huh? You sneaky sneaky little boy.”

Just as you stepped into the room, Lando shifted in his chair, still holding Thor in his lap. You stopped at the doorway, a sheepish smile on your face as you met Lando’s amused eyes. “He ran away,” you said, trying to sound stern but failing miserably as you grinned. “I need to clean him up before he gets lipstick all over the place, especially on our white couch.”

Lando laughed, scooping Thor up and holding him out toward you as if presenting a prized trophy. “You’ve made quite the mess on him,” he teased. “I was just showing everyone your handiwork.”

You sighed dramatically, walking over to take Thor from Lando’s arms. “Sorry, love, I just got carried away,” you sheepishly smiled. “I couldn’t help it. He’s just too cute.”

He smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Carried away? Babe, you practically covered the poor guy in kisses. He’s never going to live this down now,” he joked, gesturing to the chat that was still buzzing with laughter.

You rolled your eyes playfully as you bent down to scoop up Thor. “Come on, little troublemaker. Time to clean you up before you end up on Instagram again.”

Lando’s fans greeted you warmly as you appeared on the stream, and you waved at the camera with a smile. “Hello everyone! Hi, Max!” You said, catching sight of Max’s face in the corner of the stream.

Max grinned. “Oh hey, look who it is! Caught you in the act, huh?” He teased, leaning closer to his screen. “You know, I think Lando’s just jealous. He never gets that many kisses.”

Lando feigned shock, gasping dramatically. “Max! That’s not true! I always get plenty of kisses, thank you very much.”

You shook your head with a laugh, wiping the lipstick marks off Thor’s face. “Well, if he doesn’t stop teasing me, Thor might just get more than him from now on!”

The chat exploded with laughing emojis and comments again, with Max laughing in the background while Lando pretended to sulk. “Unbelievable. Betrayed by my own girlfriend and dog,” Lando muttered, but his smile betrayed his amusement.

Once Thor was all cleaned up, you gave him a final kiss on the top of his head—much to Lando’s fake protest—and set Thor back on the floor. “There, all better. No more lipstick adventures for you,” you said, watching as Thor trotted off, likely planning his next trouble.

Lando’s eyes followed Thor, then flickered back to you with a fond smile. “You’re the best, you know that?” He said softly, barely loud enough for the mic to pick up, but it was enough to make your heart flutter.

You shot him a wink and gave him a soft peck on the lips before backing out of the room. “Have fun with your stream. Don’t let Thor distract you again!” You called over your shoulder, leaving Lando grinning as he returned to his stream.

“Sorry, guys. Where were we? Oh, right. Max, let’s go.”

landonorris

liked by yourusername, yourbestfriend, maxfewtrell, and 2,748,937 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris my girl suffered from cuteness aggression. what have you done to our son 🙂‍↕️ but don’t worry guys, he’s all good

view all 49,937 comments

yourusername our son is too cute, i can’t help it!!! 😔

landonorris he looked so traumatized by your cuteness aggression, love

yourusername he is NOT traumatized! in fact, he loved it very much

username1 thor living out his best life. getting all the love and kisses

username2 ma’am, you’re GLOWING

username3 can your man fight? yourusername

username4 PEAK CUTENESS

maxfewtrell just wait until you see the lipstick marks on lando next

landonorris you bet 😉

username5 THE LIPSTICK MARKS HEHDJSJS THE CUTENESS AGGRESSION MUST BE TOO MUCH LMAOOO

username6 can i just say that yourusername looks so fucking gorgeous???!!! lando, you lucky lucky lad

username7 thor is such a good boy 🥹

username8 look at that distinguished gentleman

yourbestfriend it’s one of those days, huh

landonorris oh yeah 😔

yourusername you can’t blame me for my cuteness aggression!!!!! not when we have a very very very cute son 😠😠😠

username9 idk if i’d be jealous of thor, yourusername, or lando tbh

username10 STOP THIS IS SO CUTE

username11 ma’am, we can see the level of cuteness aggression by lando’s video 😭😭😭

[meo-eiru]

begging u to introduce some of those fine gentlemen fr

especially if they’re doms bc. im a whore

Ok so for the ones who have lore

This one is Ro. He's basically this all powerful dragon who travels from kingdom to kingdom and spends a few weeks at a castle there to his liking. He's technically not allowed to do that but the nobles can't say anything to him since he could just wipe their country off the map if he feels like it. He finds the mc on the street as a homeless orphan and thinks she has potential as a mage so he decides to spend a few more years in that country and raise her to his liking.

On a matter of scariness I'd say he's actually more scary than Micah. Not only is he more powerful, he's also easier to anger, and you don't know what he might do when he's angry. Also unlike Micah who was aware of his affection for you right from the get go, Ro thinks of you more as a rare gem he owns and by the time he realizes his true feelings it's too late.

This is one of the stories I'd like to turn into a full webcomic one day.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next we have these 3, well there's a 4th one but I couldn't find a drawing of him. Basically a reverse harem story about 4 ancient mages and a girl who seems to weirdly attract them. I'd say the blue haired one is definitely the poster boy but the drawing is quite old and I actually changed his design a bit, I think it was too busy.

I'm gonna be honest, this is a fanservice story. You know how there are always shows with female characters wearing impossibly revealing stuff to literal fights? I thought, hey how about I do the same but with men.

We have 4 mages, the mage of light, the mage of dark, the mage of mind and the mage of emotions.

Again a story I want to turn into a webcomic one day

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This guy is the literal personification of Love. He was made out of love, he lives through love and IS Love.

He is the beautiful type of love, he is the innocent type of love, he is the dark type of love. The love that will suffocate you, the love that will make you wish you never experienced it, the love that'll bring you to tears from it's kindness.

He knows you yearn for love, a love you can be sure could never die off, a love that will follow you even if you no longer want it.

Even if you can't love him anymore he will continue suffocating you until you become completely his.

This is a story I want to turn into a visual novel in the future.

The other characters have lore too but I don't want this post to get too long, I think it should be enough to talk about these for now

[dollishbabess]

different batboys going in a fitting/dressing room with you - from your dollish!🦢

Dick Grayson (Nightwing)

HC:

1. Playful and Flirty The moment you ask him to come into the fitting room, Dick's eyes light up with excitement. “Are we sure this is a good idea?” he teases with a grin, but he’s already slipping in behind you enjoying the view a little too much.

2. Compliments for Days Every time you try on something new, Dick showers you with praise. “You look incredible,” or “That color is perfect on you.” He’s genuinely mesmerized by everything you wear and isn’t shy about letting you know. (🐻‍❄️)

3. Hands-on Assistance When you struggle with a zipper or a clasp, Dick is more than happy to help. He’ll stand behind you, hands warm against your skin, and he takes his time, savoring the moment (and definitely not photographing it in his mind to remember later)

4. Playful Reactions He’ll jokingly suggest matching outfits or make exaggerated poses in the mirror next to you. It’s impossible not to laugh when he’s around, and you both end up having way more fun than you expected. (Posing QUEEN FINAL BOSS💜)

(I can’t think of an action sorry!)

Jason Todd (Red Hood)

HC:

1. Reluctant but Willing Jason acts like he’s not interested in shopping, but when you ask him to join you in the fitting room, he raises an eyebrow and follows without hesitation. “Only because you look good in everything,” he grumbles.

2. Blunt Honesty Jason doesn’t sugarcoat anything. If he thinks something looks amazing on you, he’ll tell you straight up. If it doesn’t suit you, he’ll say, “Nah, not your best look.” You appreciate his honesty, even if it makes you roll your eyes sometimes. (🐻‍❄️)

3. Playful Teasing He can’t help but tease you when you’re trying on different outfits. “Are you sure you’re not just showing off for me doll?” he’ll say with a smirk, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

4. Protective Presence Jason stands in the corner with a watchful eye, making sure no one bothers you or tries to peek in. He’s protective, even in such a mundane situation, and it’s oddly comforting and holds the curtains of the fitting room closed or stands next to the door. (atp please stay home)

ACTION!: As you try on a dress, Jason tilts his head, taking a moment to admire you before saying, “You should buy it. And wear it for me later.” The heat in his gaze is enough to make you blush, and he smirks, knowing exactly the effect he has on you.

Tim Drake (Red Robin)

HC:

1. Awkward but Sweet Tim is a bit flustered when you suggest he join you in the fitting room. “Uh, are you sure that’s allowed?” he stammers, but he eventually follows, cheeks tinted pink. (DAMN YOU ON EDGE OF THE BED YOU ABOUT TO FALL OFF)

2. Helpful but Shy He’s not sure where to look when you’re changing, but he does his best to be helpful. If you ask for his opinion, he’ll give you a thoughtful answer, genuinely considering how each outfit suits you. (🐻‍❄️)

3. Accidentally Cute When you’re struggling with an outfit, Tim fumbles to help, often resulting in the two of you tangling up together. He apologizes profusely, and you can’t help but find his awkwardness endearing.

4. Gives Genuine Compliments When you finally emerge in a new outfit, Tim’s eyes widen, and he stares for a moment before saying, “You look… amazing.” His voice is sincere, and it makes you feel like the most beautiful person in the world.

ACTION!: You’re trying on a particularly tricky dress, and Tim offers to help with the zipper. His fingers brush against your skin, and he freezes, face turning bright red. “S-Sorry,” he mumbles, but you can tell he’s not entirely unhappy about being so close to you.

Damian Wayne (older but no smut)

HC:

1. Reluctantly Joins Damian initially refuses to join you in the fitting room. “That’s highly inappropriate” even when you’re dating,But when you insist, he sighs and follows, muttering something about how he’s only doing it to protect you.

2. Gives Direct Feedback Damian doesn’t mince words. If he thinks something looks bad, he’ll tell you outright. “That’s hideous. You deserve better,” he’ll say, but he’ll also let you know when something suits you perfectly, even if he tries to act indifferent. (🐻‍❄️)

3. Respectful Distance He stands with his back turned whenever you’re changing, arms crossed and eyes closed. He respects your privacy but will peek when you’re not looking, just to make sure you’re okay.

4. Secretly Enjoys It Though he’d never admit it, Damian loves spending this time with you. He might even pick out a few outfits for you to try, claiming they’re “more appropriate” but secretly hoping you’ll wear something he chose.

ACTION!: You try on an outfit he picked, and when you ask for his opinion, Damian gives a satisfied nod. “It suits you,” he says simply, but you catch the hint of a smile tugging at his lips, revealing how pleased he is.

Bruce Wayne (Batman)

HC:

1. Charming and Sophisticated Bruce is the ultimate gentleman in the fitting room. When you invite him in, he gives you a knowing smile and steps inside, immediately making the small space feel more refined. (Loves it)

2. Knows Fashion Bruce has an eye for style and knows exactly what suits you. He offers suggestions and adjustments, making sure you look perfect in every outfit. He’ll even offer to buy you whatever you like, no matter the cost. (🐻‍❄️)

3. Effortlessly Romantic He’s the type to help you with a zipper or clasp without you even asking. His touch is gentle but firm, and he makes the simplest action feel intimate and loving”

4. Playful Yet Classy Bruce isn’t above making a few flirtatious comments. “I think you’d look better without it,” he’ll whisper in your ear, his tone teasing but filled with genuine affection. (gl walking tomorrow babes)

ACTION!: You try on a stunning gown, and Bruce’s eyes darken as he steps closer. “You look breathtaking,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing against your bare shoulder. The intensity of his gaze makes your heart skip a beat, and you realize that even in a fitting room, Bruce Wayne knows how to sweep you off your feet.

This is @dollishbabess work not yours, DO NOT copy or share on other platforms and if you do, I must get full credit Ty🦢

Watermark: (🐻‍❄️)

dividers from @cafekitsune !

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: A bout of insomnia keeps you awake, so you decide to go for a midnight walk. To your surprise you find that you aren't the only one still up as the sound of the shower running in the communal bathroom catches your attention. Who is it and what are they doing in there? Why does it sound like your lieutenant and why is he moaning your name?

Word Count: 5.6 k

Warnings:

Hot water from the shower runs in snaking pathways over the bulky muscles of the lieutenant’s back as he leans himself against the wall, his forehead resting on the bit of his forearm that is propping his body up while his engorged cock is tightly locked in his clenched fist. Furiously he strokes the length with eyes closed and mouth agape, grunting deep and guttural the tighter he squeezes around that throbbing appendage as he desperately works to ease the ache that has kept him from getting sleep yet another night in a row. 

The military base is hunkered down for the evening, most of the personnel fast asleep as he should have already been, but his mind is too full of thoughts…thoughts if you… that sleep is unattainable at this point unless he does something about them. He knows the risk he’s taking doing this in a communal space, but he hopes that it’s late enough that no one will be around to disturb him until he’s done.

It’s been another long, rough day of having to watch you from afar but not touch, follow you with his dark, hungry eyes while knowing he will never get a chance to taste your sweetness, and he needs a release before he does something foolish. Never has another gotten under his skin the way you have, never has he struggled so hard to keep his desire from consuming him whole like he has to every single time you are near, and lately it is becoming near impossible. 

There's only so much that even a trained professional can take before all that self-discipline goes right out the window and he is reaching his limit with each passing week. If this keeps up he is bound to slip up somehow, you will notice, and he cannot let that happen. He can’t do another desperate sleepless night and be sane enough to face you again the next day, so here he finds himself. 

Behind closed eyes he recalls the images from earlier during training of you sparring with one of the other recruits. The way your body moved and contorted as you took down your opponent, the sweat that glistened and rolled in large drops down your chest and into the top of your shirt, the look of cocky determination in your eyes, and the heavy breaths you took through parted lips was enough to set him off something bad. His hands had to be firmly crossed over his crotch even after you had finished and walked off to hide the stiffy he was suddenly sporting so it wouldn't draw attention from any wandering eyes. 

God, the way he wishes it had been him that was pinned beneath you on that mat instead of the recruit that you took down and makes him stroke even more furiously. Why can't it be your sweet, soft pussy he is thrusting into instead of his rough palm? He’d sell his soul to Satan himself just for a moment spent in your bliss.

Lt. Riley braces his feet wider in the shower to steady himself as a wave of pleasure surges through his limbs and nearly knocks him over as he continues stroking. There is so much sloppiness in his rhythm now; he’s getting closer and soon he’ll be able to think more clearly… at least for a little while. 

“The things I'd do to ya, sweetheart,” he mutters to the vision of you in his mind’s eye, the need overwhelming every sense until he can’t see straight. “Fuck, I just want tha chance ta make ya come. I’d make bloody sure ya would only ‘ave eyes for me from then on.”

His teeth clench behind his parted lips as a bit of salty precum dribbles out of the tip of his cock only to quickly get washed away by the water raining down over him. Fucking hell, this is a problem that doesn’t seem to have an end in sight; this isn’t the first time he’s had to jack off to get a moment of peace and he knows that this will only be a temporary fix. There’s only one thing that can satisfy him for good, but it is the one thing he isn’t allowed to have.

At least he tells himself over and over that you’d never give him the time of day and so he keeps his agonizing distance. So, as the rest of the world around him slumbers, he has to do what he must to get by…and even though he thinks himself the only one awake and trying to work out demons under the cover of night, he couldn’t be more wrong.

At the other side of the barracks, you stare up at the dark ceiling of your room just as you’ve done for the past hour now. You have tried to relax your limbs, clear your mind, close your eyes, but no matter how hard you push yourself, sleep keeps evading your grasp. Why? You know the answer plainly even if you don’t really want to accept it. 

His eyes had been on you again today, Lt. Riley’s. That intense dark brown gaze that always makes your pulse race each time you catch it lingering had been plastered on you even before you stepped up to your sparring partner during training earlier. It was as if he was trying to bore a hole through your body the way he wouldn’t look away. The ache that settled itself in your core at his undivided attention nearly distracted you enough that you about lost the fight and now that you are lying in the dark with nothing to keep you occupied it’s all your desperate mind can focus on.

Does the lieutenant even know what his attention does to you? Would he care even if he did?

What would he think if he knew that just his gaze alone makes your body burn, how you can’t ever seem to get enough of the way you can so easily capture his focus, how it fuels all of your fantasies and daydreams until it’s impossible to be in his presence without your breath quickening and feeling that familiar ache between your legs? Goddammit, if you had your way you would have those eyes glued to yours as he thrusts inside and makes you his for the first time, but you know that’s not a possibility.  

No, it’s got to be pure coincidence, something entirely innocuous, a superior surveying the progress of one of his soldiers. He is the unofficial second in command around here, of course he would need to take account of those that are under him. You’d have to be a fool to think it’s anything more than that, that someone as experienced and weathered as him would ever go for an underling like you, but it doesn’t change how it makes you desperately want to get closer to the serious and intimidating officer.  

Why does the one thing you want have to be so fucking far out of reach?

Your heartbeat is starting to race again and your fingers are too sore to go another round down below, so you give up with a sigh of defeat and get up out of bed; if sleep isn't coming then there's no point in lying here to only get more frustrated that you can’t let those salacious fantasies go. 

Maybe a walk will tucker you out enough that sleep will stop avoiding you, at least it’s worth a try. Better than lying in the dark trying to stroke out the overwhelming thoughts, trying to imagine the feeling of his weight pressing you into the mattress as his cock stretches you out. No, staying here is only going to do more damage. Slipping on some shorts with your tank top and grabbing your shoes, you head out of your room and begin your trek through the barracks headed towards the outside. 

You pass by the quiet rooms of your sleeping teammates, nothing but silence filling the halls that causes each soft step you take to sound louder than it should. Room after room passes by the same as the last as you make your way through the long stretches of hallway. All that's left is the showers coming up on your left, then the doors to the outside and you’ll be free to mosey about in the cool air while the music of the night gives you something else to focus on. 

But it isn’t the crickets, frogs, and other nocturnal animals outside that you hear now, nor is it those of the nightwatch making their rounds. It’s something else that grabs your attention.

The closer you get to the communal bathrooms, the more your ears pick up noise out of the stillness. At first it is only the distinct sound of running water hitting off the titles that cover the floors, but soon you catch the muted echo of a voice reverberating inside. Whoever is in there it sounds like they are in distress and curiosity gets the better of you. It's probably nothing, but it's best to check just to be sure. You'll pop your head in, make certain everything is alright, and then quietly leave without anyone knowing. 

Silently you creep up to the door and slowly creak it open so that the hinges won’t squeak and give you away just in case your worries turn out to be unfounded. The ambiguous noises become more clear and you realize it is the heavy masculine grunting of someone in the shower. It takes you a second to place why that sound is so familiar, but after a few seconds it finally clicks and you become embarrassed to have stumbled upon this private, intimate moment.

You move back from the door and almost let it fall closed when you catch the person inside saying something unexpected. Under the sound of the shower head running and heavy panting you swear that you hear the voice moan your name and instantly you are frozen in your tracks, unable to leave as planned.

You know that particular voice. 

Shit, you've heard it so many times over the course of your stay here that it is permanently burned into your psyche. The voice repeats the same and now you are sure that it is your name being moaned and a shiver runs up your spine. There is no mistaking it now that you detect that recognizable thick British accent. 

It's your lieutenant, that masked enigma himself, Simon Riley.

Instantly your cheeks feel like they are on fire as he repeats it again this time in more of a whimper. Is he really…? This has to be your overstimulated mind playing tricks on you. And yet there it is again, his deep voice grunting your name with more urgency as if he is intoxicated by the way that it rolls off his tongue and suddenly your head is spinning so that you aren’t immediately aware of what you’re doing.

Stop, you hear your inner thoughts swirl around the chaos inside your skull. What the hell are you thinking? Why are you going inside?

Even as you internally ask the questions, you can’t stop your feet that seem to have a mind of their own now and force you further inside the empty bathroom and over to the source of all those delicious sounds. The countless restless nights, the endless cravings for his presence that leave you desperate, the infinite amount of times you’ve touched yourself to the thought of him…your body needs this and it isn’t going to let you walk away until you see for yourself if this is real. 

If there is a chance…

The grunts come faster now as the lieutenant is about to blow when something catches his attention out of the corner of his eye. There is a shadow on the other side of the curtain that hadn’t been there before, a dark mass of a figure standing stock still just outside the thin plastic veil hiding him from the rest of the room. His blood runs cold, anger taking hold as he is forced to stop and confront whoever it is that has decided to disturb him with their presence. 

Who the fuck could be up at this time at night anyway and why now when he was nearly finished? He pulls back the curtain in one swift, irritated motion just enough to poke his head out and confront the bastard, but to his surprise who should be standing there then the one person he doesn’t need to come face to face with in this intimate moment. You stare back at him with wide eyes brightly shimmering in the fluorescent lighting overhead. 

“The fuck ya think you’re doin’?” he barks harshly, flustered by the awkward position you've found him in. “Do ya know what fuckin’ time it is? Ya should be down for tha night instead a skulkin’ about. I suggest ya get out and head back where you're supposed ta be.”

You hear the jarring response: should move, leave, follow his order, but you can't. The sight of the water glinting off his husky chest, beads of condensation sparkling through the light brown hair covering his sternum and down his abdomen, is too delicious a sight for you to pull your eyes from. You always knew that the lieutenant was a mass of muscle, it’s clear even through his bulky tactical gear, but to see it all in the flesh is another story. How are you meant to walk away from all that tantalizing, slick, heated skin?

Without even thinking, you step in closer. “I …don’t want to go.” 

“What?” The question comes out as a surprise.

You swallow. “I said I don’t want to go,” you reiterate.

You wrestle with yourself on what to do now that you’ve gotten here as he stares back at you in confusion, sensing how the air has suddenly seemed to shift all at once. Do you reveal the truth and tell him everything, including that you heard his desperate pleas? Will that be enough? Or do you do something else entirely? What if he rejects any advances just to save face? 

“What're ya…?” he starts to ask, only to lose the end of his sentence as you move in until the thin plastic curtain is the only thing keeping you apart. 

Screw it, you’ve come this far and that throbbing ache between your legs is ruling your actions now. This is a terrible idea, but that is the only type available at this time of night. Your heartbeat is in your ears as your gaze locks to his and your fingertips grab at the hem of your tank top to slowly drag it up over your torso and pull it off the top of your head. The skimpy bit of fabric hangs idly from your hand almost sweeping the floor as you stand there bare chested staring back at him. 

If this doesn’t make your intentions clear, then nothing will, and hopefully the temptation is enough to sway his actions.

Simon tries to inhale, but the wind has been knocked from his lungs and he can’t seem to get it back. Composure is his calling card and yet right now being in control isn’t an option anymore, not with the way you look like the most perfect treat he’s ever laid eyes on. He releases a shuddered breath that he didn’t know he was holding onto. There is a heat in his chest and it’s spreading through his limbs like a wildfire, ready to consume all the common sense he has left. Watching that hardened man break gives you new found confidence and you find your voice amidst the dibilitating rise in your blood pressure.

“I don’t want to go anywhere,” you manage to say without faltering. “Not after what I just heard.”

Fuck, he really has been found out.

“Do you think I haven’t noticed the way you can’t take your eyes off of me, sir?” you continue, the truth spilling out like the water from the shower. “You might think yourself slick because of the mask, but I swear whenever we’re near each other I can feel your gaze lingering on me. It’s not the same one you give the others, this one is different… and do you know the worst part?”

You let the question hang in the air for a moment even though Lt. Riley doesn’t even try to answer it; he can’t, he’s too overwhelmed. “The worst part is that I can’t get enough of it.”

The lieutenant’s vision is tunneled in on your sweet lips as he listens to your words, the desire to grab you and drag you to him spreading throughout his limbs at your confession. A few stray droplets of water drip down from the cropped tips of his dirty blond hair and hit the top of your shoes as he struggles to speak.

“This is a bad idea, luv,” he says as his final attempt to give you an out. “Ya should go ‘fore ya do somethin’ ya regret.”

You shake your head. “The only thing I’m going to regret is leaving. I can’t take another sleepless night. And it sounds like you can’t either.”

As you speak, you quietly slip your feet out of your shoes and toss your shirt haphazardly away and it crumples to a heap on the ground. “I need you… so bad. I can’t take it anymore. Please, don’t send me away.”

That’s it, all sense is completely gone as Simon Riley is no longer in control of his actions, not after hearing you plead for him to take you. Ripping open the curtain all the way, he silently pulls you into the shower and shoves you back into the tiled wall. Your big doe eyes peer up at him as the water mists from the showerhead above you and trickles off your eyelashes. 

He watches the droplets collect and sparkle like diamonds as they fall onto your delicate cheek, his bare chest heaving up and down laboriously with each panted breath as he takes in all he can now that he has the chance. His large hands glide over your arms as he truly contemplates the consequences of his actions, but there is no reprimand, no amount of punishment in this moment that can make him fight off the brunt of his attraction.

You stand in his presence only able to look on, mesmerized by finally being able to take in the enigma you’ve only rarely ever seen in bits and pieces and never this up close. Goddammit he’s handsome. All those stark, chiseled features, the light covering of brown stubble along his jaw, those brilliant eyes that are even more gorgeous now that they aren’t shadowed in his mask steal your breath away. Old, faded scars are speckled across his visage and trail down the length of his body, but even those take nothing away from his looks. 

Husky, bulked out muscles from years of hard physical labor, outline and glistening with water meet your gaze the further your eyes travel. The sheer girth of his body is enough to make your mouth salivate as you wait in anticipation for it to be molded into you, dwarfing yours in comparison. 

“Wanted this for so fuckin’ long, luv,” he breathes as his sight drifts down to the beautiful pair of naked breasts nearly pressing into his chest, bringing you back from your supor as you admire. “I need to hear ya say it, that I can ‘ave my way with ya.”

Anything, you’ll say anything to break that short, agonizing distance between you. “Fuck me,” you say, lips left parted as you wait for him to take the lead and break the tension.  

There is a ringing in his ears as if the entire world has suddenly fallen silent as the brunt of his suppressed desire floods immediately to the surface, overwhelming everything in a blink. Without a word he urgently cups both of his palms around either side of your head just behind your ears, thumbs resting along your jaw so that he can draw your face to him as he leans down into your face. He has to kiss you now; the need is suddenly so strong it’s like he is choking on it. You barely have a second to take a breath before he crashes his lips on your own.

He captures those soft bits of skin over and over again in desperately feverish waves, stealing the balmy air from your mouth to sustain the connection so that he doesn’t have to break it just yet. The last thing he wants to do is destroy this overwhelming magnetism that draws you both together and by your way you grab onto the meat of his hips to pull him tighter to you, he knows you feel it too.

Has anything ever felt more euphoric than the way your full, soft pout feels? Has anyone ever tasted as sweet, has he ever been more instantly hooked on the sensation of someone else’s mouth pressed to his? He can’t remember anymore. There is nothing else outside of you in this desperate moment. 

Releasing your face, his rough fingertips follow the curve of your spine down to roundness of your ass where he grabs handfuls to massage. So absorbed in your taste, the feeling of your lips, the heat of your breath, that it takes minutes for him to realize that there is still a barrier between your bodies: the shorts now damp from the shower still hopelessly clinging to your hips. They have to go as they are very shortly going to get in the way.

“Wanna get these fuckin’ things off,” he murmurs against your lips as he pulls the fabric down, miserably removing his mouth from your own so that he can help you step out of them. They are quickly tossed past the shower curtain and before they even can hit the ground he is harshly pressed back against you once again to steal your mouth and devour your kiss. 

Your moistened bodies slip across each other as the pressure builds and the movements become more desperate, him pushing his hardened cock into your pelvis as he grinds against you and shoving a thick thigh between your parted legs to give you something to hump. He fills your mouth with a muffled groan as the silky lips of your pussy connect with the skin; it’s better than he could have ever imagined it feeling and he cannot wait to get inside and be constricted by your walls squeezing around him, but there’s a little more he has to explore first.

Patience, he’s going savor this moment like it’s the only one he’ll ever get.

“Tha’s it,” he encourages in a short burst, trailing his lips down to your jaw towards your throat as you roll your hips hard to catch your clit on the muscle. “Fuck, ya do need it bad, don’t ya? I wanna hear it, tell me how bad you’ve needed it, luv.” 

Those hungry lips reach the side of your neck and start to suck, puckering the skin into his mouth and you struggle to remember how to talk through the sensitivity hazing your thoughts. “Everytime I have to see you… f-fuck…  can’t sleep. Have to keep … uuughh… t- touching myself for relief.”

His mouth continues to trail lower and lower down the contours of your body, leaving warm, moist kisses along the skin of your collarbone and over the side of your chest. “Keep going,” he orders.  

You gulp down another moan as his burning lips lock to your breast, suctioning to the areola while that agile tongue flicks over the very tip of your nipple until it’s stiff. God, your tits are like heaven, so soft and juicy as they fill his mouth.  His hand palms over the other breast and begins to play; he won’t leave that one to not receive any attention.

“Can’t…focus,” you stammer, “can’t think of anything except you. Begging into the dark for you…to take me…to make me yours.”

“Think ‘a my cock a lot, luv?” he asks amused as he switches sides and takes the other breast into his hungry mouth.

The heat in your face makes your cheeks feel swollen. “I…do,” you admit as if you both aren’t already naked and humping each other. 

“Wonderin’ what it would feel like?”

“Wanting it inside me,” you add.

His hand leaves your chest and moves between your bodies to grab yours and bring it down to wrap around the girth of his shaft. “It don’t ‘ave to be a mystery anymore, sweetheart.” 

Goddammit, he’s big. You’d barely had time to register the look of it before his mouth was plastered to yours and though you can feel it grinding into you, now that it is in your fist it makes your breath hitch. “F-fuck…” you moan as your hand slides up and down the length.

Simon’s cock twitches as if in response to the ache in your voice and you can feel its heartbeat. The thrill to know you have a strong grip on such a man as the lieutenant, that it is you he wants, it’s you he needs, that his cock is hard just for you makes you grind against him with eyes closed trying to make yourself come.  

“Gonna stuff ya full,” he groans from the pressure you apply as you continue to work him. “Stretch out your sweet pussy.”

“Yes,” you whimper. “Please.”

The steam billows around your conjoined bodies, condensation enfolding you in a layer of mist as if you’re stuck in a dream when he finally emerges hastily from your chest with lips puffy and red from the suction. He rips your hand from around him as the pressure has almost reached the point of no return and aggressively he picks you up as if you weigh nothing; he’s stronger than you realized to be able to lift you almost effortlessly. 

“Put your legs ‘round me. Now,” he barks sharply and you do as you’re told. He braces your back up against the wall for leverage as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and his sight drifts down between your bodies. 

“Ready for me?” he asks, but it doesn’t sound like a question. 

A nod is all he is going to get, the inside of your mouth tasting like copper as you bite your cheek to keep quiet as his swollen tip slips through your petals to find the opening, rubbing up against your swollen clit. Your slick coats his cock, a clear sign that he’s good to go. It takes him only a moment with a slight adjustment of his hips to align with his target.

“Deep breath, sweet girl,” he says as he raises his gaze to peer back into your eyes and with a thrust the fat tip pushes through the threshold of your aching, throbbing core, stretching it wide as it takes him in.

Instantly you choke on the moan that stuffs your mouth full and you have to clamp your lips shut to keep it from escaping. The lieutenant does the same, but you can feel the bass vibrate through his chest as his steel-like grip digs harshly into your waist.

“Goddamn, sweetheart, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” he says breathily through a lustful chuckle, fighting off the urge to blow his load before he’s even gotten all the way in, “but ya can take more, can’t ya?”

Another nod, more enthusiastic this time and again he thrusts past the tip down his veiny shaft and reaches the base. You can’t hold it in anymore, the way his cock fills you so full makes you lose yourself. Eye closed, you can’t stop the loud moan that you let out and the sound reverberates off the walls of the cramped space until it is amplified. To think you were ever going to satisfy yourself with only your fingers when all of this was waiting for you to discover seems almost comical now.  

The lieutenant’s large hand rushes to cover over your mouth. “Gotta be quiet for me. Don’t need anyone comin’ in and ruinin’ this. I’m not done with ya yet, luv; gotta make ya come for me first.”

The shine in your glazed-over eyes gives him your answer and he removes his hand with a nod as he knows an even better solution to keep you quiet. He leans back in and his lips pull yours into their secure embrace before he risks slipping in his tongue to wrestle with yours; can’t make much noise with your mouth so full.  

There’s no way he is going to calm down enough now to stave off his orgasm for much longer and so with your mouths connected he starts to thrust, dragging himself nearly out of your core before slamming back up into you. Every thrust strikes up into your pussy shoving him in as deep as he can get, your body shaking from the force as your back is dragged up and down along the wall. The moisture on the walls keeps the friction low so you can move easily with his percussive hits into your body.

So fucking wet, so goddamn tight, how is he meant to not fall apart? Simon can’t help rutting into all that goodness like an animal hell bent on capturing every bit of pleasure he can. Lost in the feeling his rhythm wavers, but breaking from your mouth and taking a few deep breaths he gets himself right back on track. As he bucks wildly up into you your arms hold on tightly around the back of his neck and you notice how the muscles tense with each of his strong thrusts. 

“Need ya ta come for me… need it so goddamn bad…” 

There is no hiding the desperation in his words. He has to know that your body belongs to him now, that after tonight you won’t ever even think of straying from him. You’re his, his, and after all the agony he’s endured before getting here, he has to make sure of it. 

That burn deep in the muscle starts to shoot through his thighs, but he doesn’t slow and the more he works the more that warmth gathers in the pit of your stomach. You’ve dreamed of moments like this for so long it becomes overwhelming: the feeling of his skin against yours, his cock buried deep inside you, his honeyed words conveying everything you’ve wanted to hear; it’s euphoric.

You whimper and quickly breathe it out. “Fuck, gonna come.” 

“Tha’s it, sweetheart. Almost there,” he coaxes, secretly knowing that at any moment he is going to come too. “Jus’ let go and come for me. Let me feel it, pretty girl.” 

It’s there, it’s so close. That sweet release is within reach. “A-ah…fuck… almost there…”

“My good girl,” he grunts, “come on my fuckin’ cock.” 

Your heart is beating out of your chest as the pleasure builds until all at once, like the flick of a switch, your core contracts and all of that intensity explodes in a blast of warmth that flows through your limbs. Leaning forward, you bury your face in his shoulder and whimper as you ride out that wave of ecstasy.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groans behind clenched teeth at the feeling as your core constricts around him, sending him over the edge. 

Wrenching his cock out as fast as he can, he angles it up between your bodies. You regain some composure, enough to instinctively reach for it to stroke him the rest of the way through. His hot, milky cum dribbles onto your stomach in short bursts while his upper body twitches as you work out all you can. Finally, he falls in against you and places his hand on top of yours to force you to stop.

The sound of the running water conceals the sound of your combined breathing as you both come back down from that high and he can set you back on your feet carefully. Back on solid ground you both just stand there quietly taking in the moment and all that just happened until the lieutenant breaks the silence.

“Think you’ll be able ta sleep now?” he asks as his fingertips caress over the heat in your cheeks.

You nod with a smile spread across your lips. “But I’m not sure about tomorrow night,” you say with a glimmer in your eyes. “Might be up again.”

Biting his lip he tilts his head away as he tries not to show how much it excites him to hear you say that, rubbing his hand over his head to slick back his short hair. “Well, we can’t have that,” he says. “Right now, though, I got a mess ta clean up.”

There is one last, deep kiss waiting for you before he gently pulls you under the showerhead to wash away the evidence of what happened here tonight. As he watches the water run down off your delicious curves and flow down the drain, he realizes that this is going to become an even bigger problem than he had before… but fuck is he ready for it.

[youryanderedaddy]

Oleander

Summary: Nine months ago you killed a man. Now you're sharing a drink with his brother. Life works in mysterious ways. tw: female reader, implied murder, captivity, dub - con, hate fucking, degradation, cruel reader

Sometimes you wonder if you’re a good person. It’s nice, almost, to lose yourself in meaningless philosophical battles in your own mind - it reminds you of high school, of balding teachers making you read Kant and Plato, raving on and on about dead men that will never come back to agree or disagree with the countless pages they made you write about them. It’s easier now, though - easy to lose yourself in semantics, to water down hundred years of morals and ethics into a simple question. Am I, the way I am, the way I’ve always been, good? 

These thoughts always come back when the liquor hits your system. You can’t believe Devan let you drink with him tonight. He must be getting lonely, you realize. Your hands are too shaky and slippery to hold the glass, and you end up spilling half of it over your chest anyways. Your shirt soaks the liquor quickly, and the sharp smell of sanitizer makes you feel as if you’re running through a cold hospital corridor. If you squint, you can almost imagine the needle poking at your vein to draw fresh blood. 

Devan watches you with odd fascination - as if you’re a child learning how to walk, and takes a sip straight off the bottle. Were you any less drunk, you’d be disgusted, yet now all you think about is how he’s drinking more and more of the bitter medicine, leaving less for you. And you need it. God knows you need it.

“Messy, murderous slut.” He mumbles under his breath, reaching out to you with a disoriented shake of his hand. “You ruined my fucking life, you know?” He manages to take a hold of your elbow. You flinch impulsively but his hold, in all its drunken angst, is unrelenting.

“You ruined your own life.” You intend your answer to be playful, but it comes out venomous. Maybe you both need some sleep - too bad the bottle is still half full. You pour yourself some more. “You’re 27 with no education, job or any support network. Even your parents don’t call you anymore, because, well… what even are you without him?” You let yourself get closer to the man - so close you can see his eyes illuminate in fear. His skin is warm like concrete melting under the sun. Tonight you are cruel. Tonight you are free - even as the tears fall down your freezing cheeks. “Admit it.” You inhale so quietly you barely feel your lungs. “You fucking love it.”

Even as his hand connects to your cheek in an audible slap, you can’t help running your mouth off. You are absolutely intoxicated - and the sting feels like a kiss to your lonely, untouched face. How long has it been since someone held you?

“You fucking love that your brother died, deep down. I mean, it’s the perfect excuse, isn’t it? You finally have a reason to be this fucking miserable.” Your smirk, filling up with glee - just like a child torturing a helpless ladybug on the ground, it’s so wrong yet feels so right. ”Besides being a lousy loser, of course.”

“How fucking dare you!” Devin flips you over with ease, throwing you on the ground. There is a raw, animalistic sadness in his big black orbs bleeding into his rage, and it makes it impossible to be scared. Even as his thick fist wraps itself around your throat, it’s hard not to burst into laughter. All the good hazy feelings take over logic and now the bleak feels like a big joke of nature. “Joe was… He… He was…” Everything, he tries to say, but his voice breaks into a pained howl and his breathing shallows before the word can roll off his colorless tongue. For a passing moment everything stills.

“It’s all your fault.” Your captor hisses weakly, his hand trembling around your warm inviting flesh. “I should have killed you that first day… that first night.” His fingers dance around your throat, carefully avoiding your jugular. “It would have been so easy. You do have a beautiful neck.” His voice lowers. “It wouldn’t be hard to–” He squeezes again - tight, tighter, and you see stars. “Maybe then I’ll finally be at peace.” He’s staring at you, intently, but it’s himself he’s talking to. 

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes. You can feel a certain fullness in your sides and a dull pain tugging at your collarbone from suffocation - but your mind can’t wrap itself around a single coherent thought other than to hurt him. It’s like the more you hurt him, the more it hurts inside you. “You can’t kill me.” There is no sass in your tone, no mischief - just plain cold acceptance.

Devin stops in his tracks to stare you down as if you’ve lost your goddamn mind. Then he laughs. He laughs so much his hand slips off your throat and you can finally breathe again.

“And what makes you so sure?” He finally collects himself enough to ask, leaning towards you. If anyone were to see you now, they would think you’re two lovers about to elope. “Because…” You avert your face away from his watchful eyes - there’s something about them, a wild flame that makes you sober up quicker than you’d like. “I’m the only person you hate more than yourself. If you kill me, the game is over.” You give him a sad smile. “And you’re all alone again.”

The man grabs your chin, forcing your lips to pucker up like a doll’s. “Like I need a fucked up bitch to keep me company.” He says, yet he keeps moving your head up and down as if he’s inspecting you for damage. As if he cares if you’re bruised, as if his fingers want to feel you for just a second longer. “Then let me go.” You bite back, and you watch his face go dark like a night sky. “No.” The boy - man shrieks, holding onto your arm for dear life. It hurts… but it’s also warm and tight - like an embrace, but not quite. “You deserve to suffer.” He quickly adds, pulling you closer to him. “Then torture me.” You add more fuel. “Do something. Anything.” You sink your teeth into his knees. “For once in your shitty miserable life do so–”

He kisses you. 

You don’t know how to describe the kiss. It’s neither passionate, nor aggressive. It’s desperate, yet it lacks strength. It’s a rushed thing. It’s a memory reminiscent of summer - in a quiet village, after an atom bomb. His lips are the flowers that eventually bloom before they’re stomped by soldier boots. You’re the half - lit match that turns it all to ashes. Your bodies are meant for destruction, and that’s why they fit together perfectly. 

“Let me have you.” He almost pleads once you separate, breathless, on the brink of insanity - as if he isn’t already there. His hands are on both sides of your waist, squeezing so hard it hurts, unstable fingers ready to grab and grope at any shape malleable enough. 

“No.” You wince, but your eyes remain cold and challenging. “Fuck you.” Devin replies, roughly spreading your thighs apart. “Fuck you.” He repeats as he rips into your throat, dragging his teeth against your sweet spot, making you really feel the sharp points tearing into your soft vulnerable skin. The thought of leaving his mark on you makes his stomach turn - and it terrifies him. You try not to look down, but you hear his belt hit the ground and soon his pants follow suit - and then you sense it right against your entrance. Sticky slick whiteness coats your white panties as it drips from the purpling tip so full it might burst by the friction alone.

His hard length rubs along your wet slit and with clenched teeth you anticipate the burn of the stretch, the way he’ll rip your underwear from you, your last protective shield - but it never comes. Yet you see it move in and out, in and out of you rhythmically. You can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck, his rasp groans into your ear, his hands moving your torso back and forth like a carousel. You finally look down. 

He’s fucking your thighs - through your panties, no less. 

“Hold your legs together.” The man barks at you, but his voice is so needy you can’t help giggling even as he manhandles you around like a ragdoll. “T-tighter.” You squeeze your thighs snuggly against his cock - and you hope it hurts him more than it hurts you. You throw your head back, leaning on his shoulder as you jeer gutturally, letting it all out in systematic bursts of laughter that sound more like black cigarette coughs. Or puffs. “God, you’re so pathetic.” You lazily stroke his shaft as it peeks down your stomach, oozing with pre - cum. “I bet your brother would have fucked me like a real man.”

He moves your head to the side with a brute slap, kissing you sloppily anywhere but your mouth - but it still does the trick of shutting you up. “Too bad he’s dead.” He leaves a trail of wet pecks down your throat. Your stomach is sticky. You feel disgusting. “Guess you’re mine now.”

You roll your eyes.

“Dream on.”

[notjustjavierpena]

Happy Birthday, Joel

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Happy outbreak day— I mean, happy birthday to Joel Miller!

Summary: You have snuck out to have birthday-morning-sex with Joel. 

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, they are so in love, birthday sex, morning sex, Daddy kink, dry humping, orgasm denial, cowgirl, dirty talk, blowjob, come swallowing 

Word count: 2.9k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59232835

Happy Birthday, Joel

A window in the bedroom has been cracked. The fresh autumn wind seeps into the room each time it blows over the house, changing the air to something that doesn’t smell like hazy sleep but forces Joel to be awake with you. None of you feel cold though because you are sitting comfortably in Joel’s lap on his wide bed. He has his back against the headboard and a dazed look on his face, bare-chested, beautiful, and propped up against a pillow because you have woken him up like this. 

His calloused hands are on your thighs that are on each side of his body, kneading the flesh gently while murmuring about nothing in the soft pitch that he only has saved for you. He talks quietly and groggily about the weather, the work he has to do on his porch come autumn, but mostly about how good you look on top of him right now, too good to be real, and makes you giggle when he jokes about this being a dream. 

You lean forward to let him feel the softness of the wooly fabric of your oversized sweater brush against his chest, resulting in it slipping off your shoulder. You threw it on just before you tiptoed out of the door, didn’t even bother with pants because you were going straight to the car that no one told you that you could borrow. The sleeves drape past your wrists, tickling his neck and cheek as you touch his jawline. 

“Happy birthday,” you say with an affectionate smile, scratching his scruffy beard with your fingertips. 

“You’re gonna get yourself into trouble, sweetheart,” his voice is laced with sleep, his hands moving slightly on your thighs as if he is deciding how to touch you. You have heat building in your belly, desire making its way through your veins. He chooses to reach up to grip the neck of your sweater, “Sneakin’ over here like this.”

“I’ll be kind enough not to ask how old you are now,” you add to earn a low chuckle, not wanting to entertain the disastrous what-ifs that roam around in his head. Joel yanks at the neck of the sweater, exposing your already bare shoulder even further. He connects his mouth to your impossibly soft skin there, his beard scratching you lightly as he trails his mouth up a path on your shoulder. He kisses every inch he can get to without undressing you fully. 

“Good girl,” he teases back at you, nosing along your neck with his voice vibrating against you, “Don’t needa remind me that I’m old.” 

“You’re not old. You’re perfect,” you cradle his head in your hands, threading your fingers through his salt-and-pepper curls and sighing towards the ceiling. He might think that this - you - is a bad idea but the way his lips feel on your body, the way he puts his whole being into touching you and kissing you like he is starving for you, tells you one thing: Joel Miller cannot stop wanting you. No matter the consequences, no matter the guilt, and no matter how much he tries to convince himself otherwise. 

“Joel,” his name falls from your mouth like a plea, breathless and light as you grip him tightly, “You don’t know what you do to me.” 

“You’re stealin’ my line,” he gives you one last kiss on the column of your neck and smiles up at you. His hands go down your body again, giving you time to suck in a deep breath. However, it’s doomed to not last and your breath hitches in your throat as he slips his palms up under your sweater. His warm fingers skim over the small of your back and up the curve of your spine.

When he lifts your sweater up and off your body, you do not protest even if you are completely bare underneath it. His gaze is on yours with adoration for a moment of not wavering once before he takes the opportunity to look down at your exposed chest. 

Your nipples have hardened at the slight chill, your arms squeezing your breasts together a little with how you still rest your hands on his neck and shoulders.  He places a palm just above your belly button and runs it up your body, skimming it over your breast to make you tremble in his arms. He lets his hand descend again, this time with a knuckle brushing over your nipple. You visibly shiver, chewing on your bottom lip as he worships you silently. 

“Is my doll cold?” He drawls, voice thick like honey, and your thoughts start to blur at the nickname. 

“No, Daddy,” you tell him and it’s the truth; you are burning from the inside out at how much your heartbeat is racing nowhere in your chest, having moved south long ago to soak your panties through to his boxers.

“By the way, you weren’t right,” he brushes your jaw when his free hand reaches for your chin to pull you towards his mouth. His thumb dances over your bottom lip, “I know exactly what I’m doin’ to ya, babygirl.”

You give the finger a gentle kiss, parting your lips to allow him to feel your tongue if he wants but when he doesn’t move, you slip out your tongue just a peek to teasingly lick his thumb as an imitation of how well you suck his cock. He smirks at that, letting his thumb go inside the heat of your mouth. He presses down on your tongue as if to test you, whispering how good you are for him as he does it. 

Underneath you, his cock has gone from half-soft to fully hard in mere seconds, pressing insistently against your core. He might think he is old but this part of him shows no proof of that. You dare move your hips back and forth once, dragging your wet underwear over the length of his erection. 

He groans alongside you but your sound is obscene in comparison, escaping around his digit in your mouth. The friction against your cunt is delicious, so much so that the fabric between your thighs has started to cling to you. 

“Give Daddy some sugar. It’s his birthday,” he commands with his hips bucking up, not being able to help how his body craves you first thing in the morning. His thumb slips from your mouth, dragging a string of spit down your chin in its wake. He curls both hands firmly around your waist again, pulling you flush against him so he can move you deliberately on his dick and watch your tits bounce. 

He guides you slowly over his thick length with ragged breathing, staring at the quick rise and fall of your chest when your clit gets the attention it desperately needs. You grip his shoulders and arch your back at the way pleasure rips through you, and though your cunt might feel empty, you feel everything start to build already just behind your clit. 

“That’s it, look at you, this my birthday present? Jeeesus, you look amazin’, look at those tits,” he praises breathlessly, throbbing against the damp fabric that separates the two of you. He dares grip your hips even harder, his fingers digging into the plump skin of your ass, and pull you down harder on him. 

Your moans grow in volume, your eyes fluttering closed as heat racks up your spine from the small of your back when tension starts to build. It pulls the coil tighter and tighter inside of you and causes you to whimper, the noise making Joel’s cock twitch underneath you. 

“Tell me, baby,” he groans and you dread the command that might come because you can’t think right now. One of his hands slips up your back to make sure you don’t fall off of him. Your clit is pulsing on the edge of release, knowing that it doesn’t need much more before you’ll explode, “Tell me when you’re ‘bout to come, okay?”

You hate him for it but still nod anyway, unable to speak for a moment, your breath only consisting of tiny gasps as you ride the edge of your impending orgasm. Still, with your eyes squeezed shut, you manage to speak just a few, barely incomprehensible words, “I’m gonna— I’m so close, Daddy.”

But before you can finish, before that final moment where your brain shuts off to feel your cunt spasm, Joel has halted your movements by holding your hips still. You whimper, trying to keep going because the pleasure is still there just out of reach, but his grip is unyielding and his disapproving tone is condescending. 

“Stop, not yet. We do it Daddy’s way on his birthday,” he commands and nearly ignores the tears forming at the corners of your eyes, “Not until I’m inside of ya, baby.”

You whine in response, knowing that he is right. It’ll be much better with him buried in your pussy but your mind is so clouded and delirious with the need for release that it is nearly painful how he is holding your orgasm hostage by gripping your hips like he is. 

“Please,” you say with a tear slipping from your eye.

“Don’t cry, baby, I’m goin’ to let go now,” he replies, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs and leaning up to peck your lips, “But I need ya to be patient. I can’t have my good girl act so bad just for her pussy to feel good.” 

His hands move swiftly to drag his boxers down, settling the waistband just beneath his balls to cut down on the time he’ll be without touching his special girl. The anticipation drives you crazy, a desperate moan leaving you as your hips start to twitch on their own accord. You let out a little moan, brows furrowed as you search for any type of friction. 

“Nooo, just a few more seconds, sweetheart,” he says and drags the word out in the same tone he would use with a puppy causing trouble. He digs his fingers underneath the front of your wet panties to pull them to the side, exposing your swollen pussy to the air in the room. You look down with him, watching how he positions the head of his cock between your folds. 

“Lift yourself up a little— that’s it,” he guides you, shuddering underneath you as you greedily sink down on his length. You should probably have gone slower, a feeble noise escaping your open mouth as you suddenly feel so full of him. There’s a mixture of relief and regret in you as it stings a little to have your soft walls stretched by him, the sensation enough for you to nearly drive you over the edge instantly. 

You exhale shakily, gripping around his cock tightly when you are seated in his lap. Your hands slide up to cup his cheeks, framing his face while you kiss him on the mouth after getting used to him inside of you. There’s only slight movement, a gasp here and there, a twitch of Joel’s cock inside of your wet cunt. 

You move a little to find that your clit brushes against his pelvis, and while capturing his mouth in a searing and desperate first proper kiss of today, you start moving your hips instinctively. Hearing the low, guttural moan that tumbles from Joel’s mouth in response is enough to spur you on. 

You feel his hands move up your back and around your front to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples while you ride him as if your life depended on it. He says your name in a half-chuckle and half-moan, tries urging you to slow down, but you are lost in the way he feels when he fucks you. 

“I love you,” he decides to say instead of something close to a scolding, pulling you out of your trance. You stare down into his eyes that are glazed over with desire, whimpering at the head of his cock brushing that little spot inside of you that has you hurtling towards your orgasm. 

“I love you too, Daddy,” you say softly, blinking down at him. He grabs your arms as they rest on his shoulders, pulling them from their place so he can entwine your fingers on both hands. 

“No-no, no Daddy,” he says with a ragged breath, glancing briefly down at where you are connected and angling his hips to make it easier for you to grind against him. Your moans climb in pitch and he places your hands on his chest, “Just Joel right now. C’mon, lemme hear you say it.”

“I love you, Joel,” you give him a hazy smile and rest your forehead against his.

“Good girl,” he whispers and then grabs your hips again. He starts to move beneath you, slow and steady in contrast to your youthful need of going hard and fast, his hips rolling smoothly and with no urgency. You struggle with it at first but he growls at you, holding you tighter than before and it feels like you might bruise if you disobey him. He guides you, controls you, steering you as you ride his leaking cock while your clit gets just the right amount of pressure. 

“Joel,” you gasp, starting a sentence but barely knowing where to go with it at the feel of him filling you up over and over.

“My perfect girl,” he replies. You make him groan when you drag your fingertips through the hairs on his chest, scratching desperately as the tension between your legs starts building again. 

It’s not long before you are teetering on the edge again, whining so loudly that people might be able to hear you through the window. Joel is right behind you, panting as the muscles of his strong thighs strain to make him pound up into you. 

You hold on for dear life, crying out his name as everything becomes too much, and your orgasm tears through you without mercy. Each ripple of pleasure has you feeling delirious, drunk on the feeling of getting pounded through the intoxicating spasms around his generous size and he fucks you all the way through your aftershocks. But even as it fades, he doesn’t stop moving in his quest for his own release, doesn’t want to stop before he has had his fill. He keeps the pleasure in your body burning as he continues spearing you repeatedly and it becomes hard for you to figure out where your orgasm begins or ends. 

You don’t know when you’ve started giggling in post-orgasmic bliss between feeble whimpers, bouncing in his lap as every nerve in your body is on fire, but you eventually start babbling ridiculously between gasps, “I can’t— Joel, I— Let me suck you off.”

Joel curses at your suggestion, his hips faltering for just a moment before he finds the willpower to stop his thrusts completely, “You’re gonna kill me, baby.”

“I would never,” you say sweetly, making sure that your words drip from your lips like honey. You push down on his chest to slide off of him, a noise leaving you as his cock slips from your dripping, used pussy. You move shakily down between his legs, pulling the covers a little to the side to make room, “Especially not on Daddy’s birthday.”

You can see how close he is by the blush on his chest, how much he is holding back, and you decide not to waste any time. You wrap your hand around the base of his soaked cock and lower your head enough to place a wet kiss on the head, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Fuck,” he groans when you take him fully into your mouth afterward, bobbing your head with a hum and hollowing your cheeks. He is a treat, tasting sweet of you and slightly bitter of his own precome, “That’s it, princess, you fuckin’ know how to suck Daddy’s cock.”

You moan around him as a way of confirming the truth of that statement. Then you hear his head bump against the wall, the picture above the bed moving from side to side, and suddenly, hands are in your hair to guide you up and down on his length. Your eyes flutter closed and you try to focus on the taste and feel of him on your tongue. Your hand moves to cup his balls, your mouth stretching around him and moving downward until he hits the back of your mouth. 

“I’m gonna come,” he pants, his lower belly jumping with each ragged breath. You prepare for the moment he lets go, opening your eyes again to look at his stunning face when he gives it to you. His hand tightens in your hair, “You want Daddy’s load, huh? Wanna— oh shit, you wanna swallow it up?”

You hum. With a deep, guttural groan of relief, Joel comes in your mouth and his hips twitch while he does it. He spills on your tongue in thick, hot, and salty ropes of white, throbbing obscenely while you swallow down what doesn’t mix with your spit and spills down your chin. 

You keep him in your mouth until he has stopped shuddering from his orgasm, eventually pulling off of him with a wet pop. You rest your head against his hip, staring up at him lovingly, “Happy birthday, Joel Miller.”

“You little minx,” he chuckles, running a hand over his hair as he tries to catch his breath, “You had that planned from the beginning, didn’t you?”

And maybe you did.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[ewyuzu]

warning: soft smut. minors dni!

the soft glow of candlelight filled your apartment as you and nanami sat together, enjoying a quiet evening after a long, exhausting day. his presence was a comforting contrast to the chaos of the world outside, and you couldn’t help but admire how composed he always seemed, even in the most intense situations.

“you work too hard, kento,” you said softly, leaning into him on the couch. his arm was draped around your shoulders, pulling you closer in a subtle but protective way.

“someone has to,” he replied with a small smile, his voice deep and soothing. “but being here with you… this makes it worth it.”

your heart fluttered at his words, and you looked up to meet his gaze. there was something different in his eyes tonight, a glint of warmth and desire that made your breath catch. slowly, he leaned down, brushing a tender kiss against your forehead.

“you deserve to relax too,” you whispered, your fingers tracing small circles on his chest.

nanami let out a low hum of approval, pulling you even closer. “perhaps you’re right.”

before you could respond, he tilted your chin up gently, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow and deliberate. his mouth moved against yours with a patience that was intoxicating, as if he had all the time in the world to savor the moment. each kiss felt like a promise, a quiet declaration of how much he wanted you.

“kento…” you breathed against his lips, feeling the heat between you grow.

“let me take care of you,” he murmured, his voice sending shivers down your spine. his hands moved with purpose, caressing your sides and pulling you into his lap, your bodies pressed close. there was no rush in his movements, only an overwhelming sense of control and desire.

his lips trailed down your neck, leaving soft kisses in their wake. each touch was deliberate, each breath he took against your skin sending a wave of anticipation through you. he was careful, almost reverent, as if he were memorizing every inch of you.

“tell me if you want me to stop,” nanami whispered, his voice husky and low, his fingers now tracing the edge of your shirt.

“don’t stop,” you replied, your heart racing with excitement and longing.

with that, nanami’s calm demeanor gave way to something deeper, his hands moving with more urgency now. as your clothes began to fall away, you could feel the heat radiating from him, his usually composed exterior melting as his desire for you became impossible to hold back.

there was a tenderness in every touch, every kiss, as he guided you through the night. nanami was slow, patient, and thorough, making sure every moment was filled with pleasure and connection. you were lost in him, the world fading away as he made you feel like the only thing that mattered.

[cloudzoro]

Kink Discovery 3 | One Piece ♡

This is part three, part one is here and part two is here

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

individual reaction/headcanon scenarios on kink discovery with op characters!

one piece masterlist

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

genre: smut (minors dni)

characters: mihawk, perona, reiju, shanks, smoker

cw: fem!reader, unprotected sex, all other warning are kinks which are outlined in the post already

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Mihawk - Cockwarming

It was your idea. A stupid idea. You didn't think Mihawk would take you seriously when you issued him a challenge. You had asked him to a competition of resolve. You're sat on his cock, and whoever gives in first loses. You may have underestimated your husband's competitiveness and self-restraint.

Your husband takes the opportunity to admire you perched on his lap, completely undressed. He's more than aware of the way your pussy is pulsing around his cock, you're desperate for him to move, but he won't. He won't give in; he's having far too much fun observing your reactions. You're practically shaking above him, your lip caught between your teeth as you try your best to stop your face from expressing your true feelings.

“You can't hide from me, Darling,” he says, reaching up to pull your lip from your teeth before you bite it off. His stare is intense, as always, as he gazes into your eyes. “I quite like this game you've come up with. I get to watch your beautiful eyes fill with desperation.”

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Perona - Bondage

Perona has always been a little bit of a freak and has always encouraged you to explore your kinks with her.

When you hand her a rope and a book on shibari and other types of bondage, she's not sure what to think. When she next gets you alone, she delicately ties your wrists to your ankles and turns you over onto our back. She holds a vibrator to your clit as she kisses up and down your legs, outlining the rope with lipstick. Your restraints block every twitch of pleasure, and there's nothing to hold onto as the vibrations get more intense.

Perona watches, intrigued and impossibly wet, as you're forced to feel the full intensity of the pleasure without anything to ground you. Your arms twitch and move, your moans fill the castle walls, and your legs attempt to clamp shut around her hand. She is mesmerised by your body. She never expected to enjoy seeing you helpless like this, but there's something about the way you writhe in pleasure that has her feeling like a monster leaning in to catch its prey.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Reiju - Face Sitting

Reiju loves eating pussy; it's her favourite meal of the day. She's always wanted to try face-sitting, but you've been too nervous. You're always fretting about hurting her or just not making her feel good. Though she's been very clear that eating out is not a selfless act on her part, she derives almost as much pleasure from it as you do.

It takes a lot of sweet talk and irresistible touches, but she finally reassures you that it's going to be fine, and you agree. As soon as your pussy makes contact with her face and she gets a taste of you on her tongue, it's over for her. She is addicted, and she doesn't want to give oral any other way. Her firm grip makes it so you don't even have the option to hover. She's not satisfied until she has the steady weight of your body on top of her.

Her tongue laps at your walls as your clit bumps her nose. adding to the stimulation. You couldn't get any closer to her if you tried. She can't get enough of your taste. She is more than happy to let your thighs squish her as she gets her fill.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Shanks - Breeding

Shanks already had a kid before dating you. He never really thought much about having another one. It had never crossed his mind that he could have one with you. Your relationship was perfect as it was. He never thought about any possible changes.

That is until one day when you bring up the idea of a mini-you running around. It's like a switch flips in his brain, and it's all he can focus on. He pushes your legs up to your chest, holding you in place as he bullies his cock into you. He's dead set on filling you up as much as possible. You already have one fat load inside you and dribbling from your hole.

“You can take another load, can't you, baby?” he says, adjusting himself above you so he can hit a better angle. “gotta make sure it sticks”, He growls, burying his head in your neck as he cums for a second time. He whispers absolute filth in your ear as he empties himself inside you.

Shanks leaves zero possibility that his cum hasn't taken. He can practically smell that it's going to work and it makes him feel feral. He needs to fuck you raw as much as possible until you get a positive result from a doctor.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Smoker - Marking

You're such a pretty girl. Smoker insists that every guy who so much as glances at you is thinking about railing you six ways to Sunday, and it disgusts him. His irrational jealousy is calling, screaming, for him to do something that lets all these low lives know you're taken. Let them know he's wrapped around your finger and there's no room for anyone else.

After a long, hard day at work, Smoker likes to unwind by fucking your brains out. He pins you down, kisses every inch of skin he can possibly kiss while he stretches you out on his cock. His scent is all over you; trails of saliva glisten on your skin, but it's not enough. He needs something that won't wash away in the shower, something more permanent. That's when he feels the urge clawing at his teeth.

He leans forward, clamping his teeth over your shoulder. His cock twitches at the way you moan for him. He sucks your skin into his mouth, leaving a mark on your skin as a warning to anyone who may see it. He continues, leaving hickies and indents of his teeth in a pattern that makes it clear you are seen to. Seeing you bearing his marks makes him cum embarrassingly fast. Though when he's done, he stays sheathed inside you so he can admire his work before he shows it off to the rest of the world.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

i hope you enjoyed reading! so sorry for my inactivity recently :(

tag list: @bloodfixnd @sexysapphicshopowner @beachaddict48 @lem-hhn

[missnxthingg]

𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬, 𝑭𝑹𝑶𝑴 𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑭𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑪𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑳𝑫 . (𝑺𝑴𝑨𝑼 𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵) - 𝐹𝐼𝑉𝐸 (𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑒)

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 - We're close to an ending, I'm so sad 😭 Also, another big one, so don't forget to check part two and the original chapter!

original chapter | series masterlist | main masterlist | taglist | pt 2

yourusername

Zandvoort, Netherlands

yourusername Back to travelling the world! The stroopwafles were way too delicious 😋

username1 You're so effortlessly beautiful

username2 the comms queen is back! we missed you, y/n

landonorris save me a stroopwafel

↪yourusername you ate all that i had 🥺 ↪landonorris ooops sorry 🫣 ↪username3 he's so unhinged, i can't

f1gossip

f1gossip After spending summer break together, Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were seen very cosy in McLaren's garage in Zandvoort. Even though they've been best friends for years, they always prefered to not show any affection for each other during work to keep it professional. Do you guys think anything has changed?

username1 It's obvious that they've been together since Miami

↪username2 pretty rich of her to only get with him after he started winning ↪username3 A gold digger, that's for sure ↪username1 I didn't comment this for you weirdos to come and hate on Y/N. She's the sweetest and Lando really loves her.

username4 god, i hope they really are together 🥺 just look at lando's summer break pics, they absolutely love each other

↪username5 and let's pray that if they are together, that they will share it with us. so many love them together, but i think they'll keep it very private ↪username6 Lando always did that to keep Y/N and Ollie safe. He knows how things work when you're famous

username7 I'M SO READY FOR THIS

oscarpiastri added to their close friends' stories

Caption: I don't think that's very professional 👀

↪yourusername replied to your story: I'M GOING TO KILL YOU

↪oscapiastri: it's on close friends ↪yourusername: one small mistake and this would've been up the internet. as a friend AND pr, i would've murdered you ↪oscarpiastri: sorry, y/n

↪landonorris replied to your story: send it to me, mate

↪oscarpiastri: you had a better reaction them y/n ↪oscarpiastri: sending it

landonorris

landonorris Yup 🏆 More like it

tagged: yourusername

yourusename I love you, my race winner ❤ what a statement today!

↪landonorris I love you more

username1 THIS IS THE HARDEST LAUNCH OF ALL HARD LAUNCHES

username2 FUCKING FINALLY

username3 We lived to see Lando kissing Y/N right after winning with a 22 second gap in Max's home race 🥺

↪usename4 honestly, i don't think life can get any better than this

maxfewtrell Proper job this weekend brother. Put your shirt back on and stop being indecent with Y/N

↪maxfewtrell (I'm happy for you two, btw) ↪yourusername We love you, Maxie ❤ ↪landonorris Thanks, mate

username4 Gold digger 💀

↪username1 Stop it, we're not gonna let you ruin this for them ↪username2 you clearly don't know anything about them, so fuck off!

yourusername

yourusername Since he decided to give you hardest launch, here are some pics from the most amazing weekend of the year ❤ Proud of you, my love

tagged: landonorris

oscarpiastri Does this means that I can freely post pictures of you two on my stories?

↪yourusername NO ↪username1 YOU KNEW? ↪oscarpiastri Everybody and their mother knew

landonorris You make me the happiest ❤ I love you so much

↪yourusername I love you more ↪landonorris Impossible

username2 STOP THEY ARE SO CUTE

username3 mother, now feed us with all the unseen pics of you as a couple

↪yourusername Incoming...

username4 Don't you think that's a bit unprofessional? She's literally wearing a McLaren uniform

↪username5 They have always kept things professional while on the paddock, and clearly this doesn't affect his race results ↪username6 I know someone said it before, but we will not tolerate this type of comment about their relationship. Lando loves her and she loves him. Period.

username7 all of our dreams literally came true 🥺 i'm so happy

↪username8 us lando stans have never been so happy to see our boy happy

landofan

landofan Since they finally told everyone about their relationship, we rescued some pictures of Lando and Y/N (and Ollie) through the years. We're so happy to finally see them together ❤ We also want to take the opportunity to say that we fully support this relationship and that we'll not tolerate hate comments towards Y/N. It's clear that she makes Lando very happy and that this is very special to them.

tagged: landonorris, yourusername

username1 THEY HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THE CUTEST

username2 i swear they are going to have the prettiest family in the future

username3 I need a wedding and thousands of kids from them

yoursername Thank you so much for the message! It means a lot to me (and also, the cute baby Ollie pics, ty for bringing them back to me).

↪landofan OMG! tysm queen ❤ we love you together and we'll always have your back

⋘ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 // 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋙

[goldsbitch]

Not on the menu

Making out in public is not something to be shameful, right?

light smut, minors DNI, angst

note: this is my first Franco fic. this man came, served and what are we suppose to do?!

When it feels this good, it's worth breaking few rules.

You and Franco. Very well protected love affair. A fling. Just two young people who somehow end up in each other's beds whenever the opportunity arises.

Working in F2 as one of the production assistants was more exciting than one might think. Everyone would always praise F1, the size of the teams, the budgets, the glam surrounding it. F2 was different, more loose and less on the spotlight. Full of professionals, who just like drivers, worked their asses off just for a chance to progress into F1. But you were just so young, just starting and unlike with the drivers, you had no rush, plenty of time for that in the next years. It was all about learning, getting to know people and also, occasionally, having some good fun. It's hard to keep young people on a leash. Lot of travel involved, hotel rooms and many people mingling around, leads to just one thing. It wasn't special or albeit scandalous to fool around with a fellow crew member, in fact many marriages started like that, no matter the rank or department. Life on the road has its habits.

So when you first ended up on a dance floor with the ever-so-charming Franco at one of the opening events for F2, it was not such a surprise that you ended at his hotel room. Way less wondering eyes and almost no glam was at these evenings, the exact opposite of F1.

By some miracle, you managed to keep it a secret, apart from few closest friends, who served as an excuse for you two to actually hang out together. These few trusted souls witnessed their fair share of tipsy make outs and laughed collectively at your hickeys, which turned out to be his speciality. You never texted, never addressed your fling when sober. Deep down you knew you were curious to see how he was as a serious partner. But he never gave off that kind of a vibe. So you protected yourself, remained cool and decided that this was the peak your relation would ever be, and that was ok enough.

"So what about you and Franco?" a friend of you both asked you, once again. You hated when she did that. In her mind, it would be a great idea to have two of her friends together. But the truth was, she was way closer with him than you were. Nothing wrong with that, but it only reminded you of how shallow your interaction were. In order to keep you dignity while fooling around with a player, you pretended to be one as well. "You know how these things are, it's just physical. I don't think he's the kind of person I'd like to date." False. You knew that, but..! You stayed on the ground, he was just a bit out of your league. Simple as that. Soon enough he was gonna catch the eye of some model and you'll be old news. The whole thing would be way worse if anyone knew that you would actually be open to at least try and date him. It was hard to stop the daydreaming sometimes. "Yeah, that makes sense," was the only thing your friend, disappointed by your response, answered. You only wondered if she had conversations like this with him as well about you.

Life was good that one evening in August. At the time, you had no idea it will the last evening of that era. It was one of the typical dinners the wealthier members of the teams organized, a nice chill place to wind down after stressful days. You were sat few places from Franco, who was charming as ever. Raining smiles on everyone and stealing glances with you.

A text notification - Bathroom?

You gulped, locked eyes with him and gave a small nod. His smile was probably crafted specifically for you, somewhere in the depths of hell. Impossible to resist.

He got up and you followed a minute later, giving a knowing look to your mutual friend. She understood and happily covered for you in case someone else caught on.

It wasn't exactly the right thing to do, lock yourself in a room dedicated for nursing mothers. But better than blocking a bathroom.

"Aren't you a little old to be in this room?" you asked when you joined him and secured the door behind you. He was leaning over a counter, fingers tapping on the top. "I can't help it, I am hungry," Franco responded and gestured you to come closer to him. With a challenging look, you took few steps towards him. "This is a restaurant, you're at the right place."

"The things I want are not on the menu." He was done playing sneaking around and crashed his lips onto yours, as if to prove his hunger. He was just too good with his tongue. Taking you, like his little victim, making you forget the outside world still existed. His hand went to grab your neck, behind your ear, because by then he had figured out that keeping you in check was the thing that made your knees weak. His lips were locked with yours, in heated frenzy, not allowing any breath to be wasted. You knew how to play the game as well, and with a soft bite into his lower lip, drawing a gasp from him, you pulled away slightly, not allowing him to take full control. "Oh," he said, trying to steal another kiss from you while you pulled away more with satisfied smile. "Is this how it is now?" he continued, tone laced with intrigue and challenge. Your tongue reached to lick his lips once again. His hand suddenly lessened the pull towards him. "Oh, hermosa," he whispered, "two can play this game." Butterflies occupied your stomach. He stepped back and to your questioning look responded with another bloody wink. And then, then he grabbed you by the hips and lifted you up in the air and sat on the counter. You gasped, only amusing him more. Lost for words, you only raised your eyebrows. "Better," he said and with audacity only young boys have lifted your shift up. Without much of a thought you put your arms up and helped him get you slightly more naked. His eyes were shamelessly focus on your chest. "Almost there," he said and gestured towards your bra. "Go on. Take this horrible thing off." You chuckled, because as charming and suave he was, taking a bra off was a moment where he failed each time. Desire fueled you into making this quick. Now that you were sat, his eyes were at a similar lever to your boobs and there was something hot about his hungry look, watching you undress even more. Once you were finally fully bare, he observed you and the locked eyes with you once again.

"Pretty," was the only thing that he said before putting his lips on your left nipple for a gentle peck and then on the right one, which received a light bite. He decided to stay focused on that one, few kisses here and there and began to suck on it while his hand pinched the left one. Arrows of pleasure flew into your lower belly. He knew your weakness, he must have because this was sending you into other dimensions. Anything that feels this ecstatic would make anyone crumble. Whatever he did seemed to always work on you. He wasted no time with gentle touches. Not enough time for that. After nearly sending you over the edge with his lips dancing around and sucking on your nipple, moved a bit upwards and went for his signature move - marking your breasts with hickeys so purple it would take a week to heal. You bend your head backwards, trying to contain any loud noises your body wanted you to make in reaction to his actions. Another twirl around your sensitive nipple, bite into your skin and a hard squeeze. You did not want him to stop, too deep in it to think straight. But that must have been his plan from the beginning, because he put you on edge and then back away. You almost let a soft "No..." escape your mouth. With a puzzled look you slowly came down and remembered you were still in public. Heavy breaths and you gulped your way back to normal. He stepped back a bit and observed his mark on you. With an approving nod, he had the audacity to fix his boner up so that it was not so obvious. "Looking forward to seeing you later?" he asked with a tone that indicated the answer was obvious. You just nodded and reached for your bra, hoping his hickey was low enough it would not be visible. But, he had never made that kind of a mistake. You hopped down and gave him one more kiss, a slow and gentle this time, before he parted back to the dinner table. You joined in a minute, after fixing yourself up and trying to make your cheeks less red. Thankfully, there was only one another amused person when you came back to the table. Your friend raised her brows at you and drank her wine as if nothing ever happened.

Everything shower, hair on point, favorite perfume - you were all set and ready for how the evening would inevitably progress. This time you even made sure to clean your room. You got too comfortable with your expectations. Watching his every move, you noticed immediately when his expression changed from a casual smile to focused frown when reading a text on his phone. Was it something serious? Would he confide in later, sometimes it happened by accident. Secrets shared among tangled sheets. He got up and sent you a cheeky wink. You had to bite your cheek in order to stop the smile your body wanted to respond with, a small bruise burning inside your bra.

It took you fifteen minutes to realize he was not coming back from his phone call. You had his number, you could easily text him. But you didn't. And just like that, he was off to F1.

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

Could Saurondriel actually happen in Tolkien lore? 

@historical-romances9 asked me to elaborate on how and if Sauron x Galadriel could/would work, according to Tolkien lore, or if it’s was even possible to actually happen because many “lorebros” are always whining about the impossibility of it because Galadriel is an Elf, and they “mate for life”, and Sauron is an evil spirit obsessed with power, and uncapable of “human like” feelings, and that “Rings of Power” is an abomination to the Professor’s lore for giving these two characters romantic and sexual undertones.

Tolkien’s writings about wedding, love and sex among the Eldar (Elves) can be found in “Morgoth’s Ring, Part III. The Later Quenta Silmarillion: (II) The Second Phase: Laws and Customs among the Eldar.”  

Argument #1: “Galadriel can’t have romantic feelings for Sauron because she’s already married to Celeborn, and Elves are monogamous and mate for life!”  

Is this true? 

We know that Galadriel is already married to Celeborn (whom she believes to be dead) when she meets Sauron/Halbrand. We also know Elves marry for life (either by love of free will from both parties; an Elf can’t be forced to marry), and divorce is forbidden, especially among the Noldor. This is what Tolkien actually wrote; there is no mention of Elves being emotional monogamous (= only loving one being for the rest of their lives). 

Actually, we have textual evidence on the contrary, with Elf characters, actually, falling in love more than once in their lifetimes and even re-marrying. The Elves don’t divorce due to their history, and not because they only love one being their entire lives; and the majority of the Noldor’s problems are blamed on Fëanor’s parents' divorce. In short: Fëanor’s mother, tired of giving birth, went to the Hall of Mandos to sleep. Afterwards, Fëanor’s father asked the Valar for permission to remarry (even, though, his wife wasn’t dead). The Gods said yes, and Fëanor’s half-siblings were born, and Morgoth used Fëanor’s jealousy to drive a wedge in the family, which eventually led to disaster. And this is why the Noldor don’t divorce. 

According to Tolkien lore, it’s completely possible for Galadriel to have romantic feelings for Sauron, despite already being married to Celeborn. 

But now, one can argue that the Valar would never give their permission for Galadriel and Sauron to be married. Here’s the catch: Sauron is a fallen Maia and a servant of Melkor/Morgoth. He’s not one of faithful (he doesn’t obey Eru nor the Valar); he wouldn’t ask for their permission to do anything. Many wrongly compare Sauron to the Christian Satan, but the actual “Devil” in Tolkien’s lore is Morgoth (he’s the one who rebels against Eru, “God”, and wants to corrupt creation).  When Sauron proposed to make Galadriel his Queen, he really meant it as the "whole package deal", because his master is in the Void forever, and he doesn’t gives two f*cks about the Valar giving permission or not. Which leads me to the next point.

Argument #2: Galadriel wouldn’t ever cheat on Celeborn because adultery is unthinkable for the Elves! 

True. However, we've already established that “emotional cheating” can happen, according to the lore, and I would argue that counts as adultery as well. But, again, we are talking about a fallen Maia and a servant of Morgoth, here: Sauron doesn’t follow the Valar’s rules. And, so, Sauron sexually seducing Galadriel isn’t OOC for him, actually.

And what about Galadriel falling for his seductions? We know Galadriel is proudful and strong-willed, but she’s not immune to temptation herself. Sex, for the Elves, equals marriage, and it’s actually a requirement to officiate the union (you, kind of, like medieval traditions). And since Sauron doesn’t need anyone’s permission to marry Galadriel, this is possible to happen if she was to actually join him and be his Queen.

And if Galadriel and Sauron would to have sex (or any kind of sexual/romantic act) it has to be 100% consensual on her part (and that’s what drives the “lorebros” mad) because if Elves are SA they die (Tolkien actually wrote this).

Argument #3: “Sauron is not capable of love! He’s a Maia! He’s an evil spirit obsessed with power, and uncapable of human-like emotions!” 

Maiar were immortal spirts, yes, but they were capable of falling in love, because Melian (a Maia) fell in love with an Elf (Thingol) in Tolkien canon, and these two characters happen to be Elrond’s ancestors. This means that Mairon, the Maia of Aulë, was, indeed, capable of love.

However, Mairon was corrupted by Melkor/Morgoth, meaning his capacity to love was also corrupted. And instead of the “good” and “fluffy” side of love, Sauron is in the “dark side” of it, and his love is possessive, obsessive, jealous, and manifests in unsatisfiable lust, emotional turmoil and suffering.  

I've already talked about this before, but, in “Rings of Power”, Sauron fell in love with Galadriel while he was on his somewhat “repentant era”, and it started out as something purer, but it’s twisting into something darker as he goes deeper and deeper into evil, until it turns into hatred, later on. 

Argument #4: “Sauron can’t have sex! He doesn't care about sex! He’s a Maia!” 

Actually, Tolkien himself wrote about this, in his essay "Ósanwë-kenta”, where he brainstorms about Maiar reproduction. According to the lore, Maiar can, indeed, have sex and reproduce if they are in humanoid form (Elf, human, etc.). Tolkien discourses about Melian (Maia) and Tringol (an Elf): they had sex and a child (Lúthien), and this Half-Maia lady was also able to have sex with Beren (a human), and have children on her own (Elrond and Arwen are descendant from Lúthien and Beren). But there’s a catch: Melian created a she-elf body to be with Thingol, and she became bound to her Elf form because of this. She lost the ability to return to her spirit form, unless her physical body was killed to set her free (which was what eventually happened).

Tolkien also wrote about the corrupted Maiar by Morgoth (Sauron, Balrogs, etc.) and whenever they could take on Orc form in order to reproduce with other Orcs, in his essay “Orcs”. Here, it’s pretty much the same: they can, but if they were to actually do it, they would also be bound to their current physical form, and unable to return to their spirit/demonic form, unless they would be killed to be set free. But there’s another catch: they would be “damned”, too, and “reduced to impotence” after.  

This means that Sauron can indeed have sex with Galadriel (and impregnate her), but he would be bound to whatever current humanoid form he had at the time (Halbrand or Annatar), and, if he was to have such physical form destroyed, he would be damned afterwards (well, Eru did took away his ability to have a body after the fall of Númenor, so it, unintentionally, checks out?). 

The answer is yes: Saurondriel can work in Tolkien’s lore, under the right circumstances: 

Doomship: they love each other but can’t never be together (never act on their feelings);

Dark!Queen Galadriel: she joins Sauron and it’s pretty much the "whole package deal", with lots of obsessive love and hardcore sex.

Galadriel has a moment of weakness and has sex with Sauron; he becomes bound to Annatar form, which only gets destroyed in the fall of Númenor, but he's now "damned" and "reduced to impotence" and that's why he loses the ability to take on a full body? (Ironic how this actually fits the canon).