#either way he did his bes and the leak is NOT his fault

[thetarttfuldickhead]

The face of a woman who loves someone for who is he and forgives him for who he isn't.

[monzabee]

diet pepsi - ln4 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where you and Lando have a rather interesting way of resolving an argument. 

Pairing: lando norris x fwb!reader 

Word Count:��2k

Warnings: kinda cute ass fighting so fluff??, sex in a car, fingering, penetration, manhandling, no use of protection (wrap it before you tap it!!), cursing, minords dni!! 

Request: “okay but what about good old car sex with lando pleaseeee” 

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! first of all, who knew addison rae had the power to make a song that made me write this whole thing under 3 hours?? i certainly did not. secondly, i thought it would be nice to take a little break from the charles-carlos drama, and before i finish the third and final part to that little mini-series, i thought you guys would enjoy a little treat in the meantime! i have to admit writing for lando again was an interesting experience for me, but who knows, maybe i'll do it more often (i have one request that i'm obsessed with so that’s definitely coming your way as well!) also, i have an oscar fic in the works as well, so maybe the sudden change in mclaren also started to affect me lol. a quick psa, i know many people asked me in my last fic, but i do NOT have a taglist and i won’t be making one any time soon either! anywaaays, i hope you guys enjoy this fic, and feedback is welcome as always! thank you to the anon for their request, and good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee 

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

“I can’t believe you’re drinking that in my car.” Lando complains, shooting you a sideway glare as you sip your choice of beverage contently.  

You tilt the cup slightly in his direction, grinning. “Relax, it’s not like it’s going to explode, nor it is your car.” 

“It might as well,” Lando mutters, eyes back on the road. “Knowing your luck, the second I hit a bump, that thing will be all over the place and I’ll have to explain what happened to Zak. Do you even know how much it costs to clean these seats?” 

You laugh, swirling the drink in the cup. “You’re being dramatic, it’s not like you are the one to detail the cars you use. It’s fine, I’ve got this under control.” 

“Famous last words,” Lando grumbles. His grip tightens on the steering wheel as if he’s preparing for impact. 

You glance at him, amused. “Are you always this paranoid about your car, or is it just me?” 

“It’s you. Definitely you.” He shoots you another look, this one laced with mock suspicion. “You have a history, you know.” 

“Oh, puh-lease,” you drawl, rolling your eyes as you turn your upper body to face him. “Tell me one time I actually made a mess in your car, and I’ll throw away this can right now.” 

Lando doesn't hesitate as he answers quickly. “Monaco. Last year. You remember that smoothie incident, right?” 

You blink a couple of times, taken aback. “That doesn’t count! That was your fault for speeding around the corner like a maniac. How was I supposed to hold on to it?” 

He smirks, clearly enjoying the memory. “Oh, so now it’s my fault, huh? You were the one who insisted on bringing a smoothie into my car five minutes before a race.” 

“You didn’t even have to brake so hard,” you mutter, crossing your arms defensively. “I had it under control until you decided to turn it into a F1 race.” 

Lando chuckles, shaking his head. “Doesn't matter. I still won, throw it away now.” 

“That doesn’t count, it was clearly your fault!” You complain, holding the can protectively. “There’s no way I’m tossing this because of your bad driving.” 

Lando laughs, shaking his head. “Bad driving? I think I’d take that up with the people who hired me to race professionally.” 

“Professionally doesn’t mean you’re not reckless,” you quip, a playful glint in your eyes. “Especially when there’s a smoothie involved.”  

“Fine,” he contends, shrugging, “how about that time I made you come too hard, and you leaked onto the seats?”  

This manages to shut you down for a moment, with eyes nearly bulging out of your head, you gasp at Lando’s sudden choice of words. “Lando!” You exclaim, reaching over the console to hit him on the arm gently, “That’s vulgar!” 

Silently chuckling at your reaction, he reaches over as he places a hand on your upper thigh, his hand tightening as you hold his wrist in warning. “It’s the truth,” he reminds you with a smirk, “don’t go shy on me, now, you were the one to get the seats all messed up because of how wet you were.” If you weren’t blushing before, your face most definitely resembles a tomato now as he continues his stream of consciousness, “Not that I’m complaining, though, I’m pretty sure I came in my pants when I made you cum just from my fingers.”  

 “You– you did?” The question flies from your mouth before you can stop yourself.  

The smile that overtakes the smirk on Lando’s face is almost sweet, and he coos at the innocence of your question as he squeezes your thigh again. “Oh baby,” he coos, “it was the hottest thing ever.”  

Your thighs attempt to trap his hand as you inadvertently press them tighter together, your nose scrunching up in confusion. “But it was messy.”  

“That was the best part,” Lando confirms, his thumb caressing your skin. “I loved getting to clean you up afterwards, didn’t I? Almost as much as you loved it.” 

“Sure.” You mumble, shrugging as you do your best to ignore his burning stare. You’d be worried about the fact that he was supposed to be driving if it was someone else, but considering he’s a F1 driver, you don’t comment on Lando’s lack of his surroundings as he pushes your thighs apart. “What are you doing?” You ask, confused as he moves his fingers further up your skirt.  

“You just focus on finishing that drink, okay?” He mumbles as his fingers pull your underwear to the side. “I’m suddenly in the mood for something sweet myself.”  

“Lando, I don’t think we should do th–hat.” Your voice waivers towards the end as his fingertips press on your clit, drawing lax circles on the bundle of nerves. “Lando,” you try to warn him, but your voice comes out as a high-pitched whimper.  

He shushes you gently as his fingers spread your wetness around your skin, causing you to bite down on your lip to silence yourself. Lando lets his dissent known by clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, mumbling, “Don’t silence yourself, let me hear you, baby.” And when you give him what he wants and let out a loud moan as your hips involuntarily buck against his hand. Grinding the palm of his hand against your puffy clit, Lando uses your wetness to slowly push two of his fingers into you, drawing out another moan as you lean your head against the headrest. “My God, baby, look at you. You’re already making a mess on the seats.”  

“N-no,” you manage to whine, shaking your head as you give him a pleading but stubborn look, “I’m not making a mess.”  

“No?” He asks, mocking the pout that has found its way onto your lips. “Then who is so wet against my hand that it’s dripping, huh?” You're not sure if it’s his words or the way his fingers keep moving in and out of your cunt, but in either case, the overwhelming need of just something more causes you to attempt to put the can in your hand down, when Lando tuts again in warning, “You don’t get to put your drink down until you first come on my fingers.” 

After his words set in, you finally come to your senses, suddenly opening your eyes as you give him a shocked look. “Wha–what?” You ask, “What if I spill?” 

He shrugs, an innocent smile on his lips as he throws you a glance, “I guess you’ll just have to be careful and not spill it.” The smile on his lips grows as you let out a frustrated sound, and he responds by moving his fingers in a come-hither motion to git the spot, which causes your body to arch into his touch. “Are you going to give me what I want?” He asks, his concentration still on the road as he tries to find a secluded spot to park the car.  

“Uh-huh,” you mutter, voice shaky as you focus on not dropping the can in your hand, “I will, Lando, just keep doing that.”  

“Doing what?” He asks in a faux-innocent tone, as he goes back to simply continuing the pistoning movement of his fingers. “Like this?” He asks, with a shit eating grin on his face as you whine. “Or, like this?” He asks again, but this time, he repeats the movement of his fingers previously as he hits your g-spot again.  

You can’t control the scream that gets released from the back of your throat as your body shakes violently. “That,” you breathe out, your free hand holding onto the seatbelt so tight that you can feel it starting to cramp your hand a little bit, “don’t you dare stop doing that.” 

Lando lets out a low chuckle, clearly satisfied with your desperate plea. His fingers continue their relentless pace, teasing and coaxing you closer to the edge. “Oh, I won’t stop,” he murmurs, his tone soft yet commanding. “Not until you give me what I want.” 

Your entire body feels like it's on fire, the combination of his skilled fingers and the impossible task of not spilling your drink has you teetering on the edge. The car feels smaller, the world outside irrelevant, as Lando’s attention is focused solely on you. Being so consumed by the way Lando’s fingers move in and out of your cunt, you don’t even know that the car you are in at the moment has been abandoned in the side of a deserted road. You grip the can tighter, your hand trembling as the tension builds in your core. “Lando,” you gasp, a hint of desperation seeping into your voice. “I— I can't—” 

He smirks, enjoying your struggle. “You can,” he counters smoothly, leaning slightly closer while keeping one hand on the steering wheel. “You can do it, just let it go, baby.” His thumb presses harder on your clit, drawing another loud moan from your lips. 

“Lando, please,” you beg, your voice almost cracking under the weight of your impending release. “I’m going to—” 

“Good,” he cuts you off, his smirk widening. “Let go for me, baby. And don't you dare spill that drink." 

His words are your undoing. With one final flick of his fingers, you shatter around him, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride out your high. Your head falls back against the seat, your hand gripping the can so hard you’re not surprised it bursts under the pressure. 

His words are your undoing. With one final flick of his fingers, you shatter around him, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride out your high. Your head falls back against the seat, your hand gripping the can so hard you’re not surprised it bursts under the pressure. 

You hear Lando’s satisfied chuckle as he eases his fingers out of you, giving your thigh one last affectionate squeeze. “Good girl,” he murmurs, glancing over at you with a proud smile. “Look at how good you look.” He shamelessly holds his fingers in front of your face, then without missing a beat, he brings his fingers into his mouth. The way he moans is nothing short of sinful, and you watch him with your lips parted as he mumbles around his fingers, “I think you spilled it a little bit.” 

“E-Excuse me?” You stutter, looking at Lando with the horrified look on your face. “No, I didn’t!” 

Lando raises an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering as he glances down at the mess on the seat. “Oh, but you did,” he teases, licking his lips after savoring the taste of you on his fingers. His eyes gleam with amusement as he points at the spot between your legs. “Not the drink, though… you.” 

Your face burns with a mix of embarrassment and desire, your breath still uneven as you try to process what just happened. “That’s not what I—” you stammer, crossing your arms over your chest, but Lando just laughs softly. 

“Relax, love. It’s nothing a little cleaning can’t fix.” He leans back in his seat, eyes never leaving you, his hand returning to the steering wheel like what just happened was the most normal thing in the world. “Besides, I’d much rather clean you up later.” 

You feel the heat spread through your body again, and despite yourself, you can’t help but feel a wave of arousal wash over you. Lando’s confidence, the way he handles you with such ease, is almost intoxicating. But as much as you’re enjoying the moment, a small part of you knows this is ridiculous. 

“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, trying to regain some composure, though your flushed cheeks give you away. 

Lando just grins, completely unbothered. “You love it,” he says casually, shooting you another one of those playful sideway glances that makes your heart race. “Admit it. You like when I make you lose control.” 

You bite your lip, fighting the urge to throw a retort his way. But you can’t deny it, not after the way your body reacted to his touch. “You’re lucky you’re good at this,” you finally concede, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Lando’s smile softens, just for a moment. “Good at a lot of things,” he says, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. Then he pulls the car to a stop, turning off the engine before leaning toward you, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “And I’m just getting started.” 

[sexlapis]

Actor!Toji has my heart and soul.

Imagine while they’re still trying to hide their relationship something gets out that it’s a real relationship and now the internet is going crazy. They’re still trying to deny it, but sadly there’s a paparazzi photo of them in a very.. interesting position, and they really can’t deny it. One of them on live or in an interview and all they are being asked is about the relationship and the photo. How far is either one willing to go before they crack and confirm their relationship?.. I’m going crazy

UHM…ARE YOU GUYS DATING?

ʚɞ actor!toji x gn!reader

s4w, one shot, short fic, fluff, crack, unintentional relationship reveal (toji’s fault ofc…)

a/n: these asks have been in my inbox since november 2023 so…sorry about that.

actor!toji masterlist

general masterlist

*

What you and Toji were doing was just a complete joke at this point.

The blatant glances in interviews, the paparazzi pictures of you two together in cafes, museums, on set, at parties, the shocking innuendo replies under each others posts, the way you were always caught wearing a clothing item of Toji’s at least once a month…

…Just who did you think you were fooling?

Because it definitely was not the internet.

Every so often, after a questionable photo of the two of you or a clip of you both being overly physical in an interview, your names would be trending or your ship name.

Parasocial relationships on social media have no bounds.

People were assuming, guessing, planning, solving and just plain trying to figure out what on earth was going on between the two of you.

Some thought you were just close friends, others believed you two were so obviously dating.

But everyone agreed on one thing: there was no way that the relationship you and Toji had was platonic.

No way.

Of course, when asked about the nature of your relationship, which was very often, you both denied it.

“We’re both just friends”, you’d say.

“We’re just really close”, Toji would say.

“I couldn’t ask for a better person to be friends with”, you’d say.

“Well, yeah, I like her a lot…doesn’t mean anything’s going on!” Toji would claim

But all of these lies come to an end when a picture comes to a light.

You and Toji, at the park, sitting on the grass and…you’re stradding his lap, facing him and cupping his cheeks and Toji’s smiling, no, not one of his sleazy smirks, he’s really smiling like he’s looking at the love of his life.

There was nothing either of you could say - no like you could utter, no truth you could tell - that would stop everyone from stating the very obvious.

You and Toji are a couple.

And the internet is going crazy.

The top three hashtags that were trending on the day the photo was leaked were: #TOJIYN, #THEY’RE DATING?, and #I KNEW IT.

So it is safe to say that…everyone knew.

And nobody is shocked. Not really.

A week after that compromising photo was leaked, Toji is invited to speak on a popular podcast.

It barely even takes ten minutes before it is mentioned.

“Toji, thank you for coming! It’s really great to have you here!” The host praises, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

“Yeah, of course, thanks for-“”

“Are you and y/n dating?”

Toji stops mid sentence, his mouth open and seemingly surprised by the hosts’ straightforwardness.

“Uh-“”

“Because there’s a photo of the two of you.” The host presses on. “You know that, right?”

“I-“”

“Let’s a take a look.”

The podcast host picks up a remote, one that controls the computer monitor, clicks a button snd there it is…the leaked picture of you an Toji.

“See? Look at that.” The podcaster says, shaking his head. “What do you have to say about that, Toji?”

“Uhhh…” Toji bites his lip. “…I had something on my face. She wanted to take look at it.”

“Look at it or sit on it?”

“LOOK at it.” Toji confirms, a soft blush rising on the apples of his cheeks. “Just wanted to…you know, see what his was.” He shrugs, scratching the stubble on his face.

Toji and the podcaster are silent for a few moments, staring at each other.

“You guys are dating.”

“Yeahh, we’re dating.”

*

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

[monstas1ut]

Morning Vixen

ERWIN SMITH x black!reader

Summary

__ 18+ black!reader hasn’t taken relationships seriously until an older man came her way. now she’s here basking in golden sunlight and being drowned in orgasms in the morning just for being pretty… with an engagement ring on her finger

Contains

__ black!reader, female!reader, age gap, he talks you through it, creampie, oral sex(pussy eating), engagement, “I love you”, big daddy cock Erwin, names like ‘daddy’ and ‘love’ and ‘princess’, bulging, crying from pleasure, somnophilia if you squint in the beginning, impreg if you squint

__ brown skin can be dark, light, medium color.. whatever. brown is brown.. and it's gorgeous

The slight contortion of your face gave insight that you were indeed waking up. The sun looked right into the glass door that was on the side of your room. It was eager to shine and dance onto your brown skin, and it wasn’t the only one eager to touch you. With a lot of respect and love for you, there was a blonde male that looked above from the soft surface of your skin and stared hazily at your face. His eyes were as blue as the ocean, and they revealed a lot about what he thought of you.

Funny enough, he thought of you as piping hot oil on one’s skin. The surprise would be your mouthful of shocking, yet lustful words. The burn itself would be just how alluring you were. He was so needy when it came to you, and as an older man, he’s confused as to why he acts like a teen boy when thinking about you. There are times where he’s cooped up in his office and his blood is rushing towards his cock. It’s all you. This man has an entire gallery dedicated to you, and he named it ‘My Love’ with a heart just to tease you more about it.

“Erwin…”

Watching those videos over and over again, the blonde knew each detail. For example, his favorite video is the one where you are shoving a pale colored cock inside of your pussy. Your nails had black tips, medium length, and you didn’t even have your wig on, only a bonnet. That was his favorite video, and he couldn’t stop thinking about that exact video this morning.

“Erwin…” shaky whispers slipped out of your throat as your toes curled tightly. The sun attacked your eyes, however with strain, you could see your soon to be husband right between your brown thighs. His hair is only slightly a mess as his soft lips caressed your sensitive bud. Those strong hands kept hold of your legs to make sure you didn’t do anything stupid.. like close them.. Erwin thought of your pussy juices as nectar, and he wanted every drop of honey there was.

“I’m sorry… There was just something about today that made you more of a princess than you already are… maybe it was the light.” Erwin’s voice was husky and it almost cracked. He hadn’t even taken the time to wake up fully. It was almost as if he’d rolled over with the thought in his mind. And he did. That video crossed his mind more than once when he’d woken up.

“Or maybe it was all my fault for gaining a painful erection… I do have dreams if you would like to know, dreams about you.” He whispered as his gentle kisses began running up your stomach to your neck. Sensitive as it could be, he practically caressed part of your neck with his genuine kisses. The feeling of it made you gasp immediately, either it was that or the way Erwin’s slightly rough fingers slipped into your core.

“S-So you just eat my pussy whenever you please?…” you choked out, obviously not having a problem with it, especially since you were leaking all over his digits. “I’m sorry, my love… I am-..what do they call it? Pussy drunk..?” Erwin asked you with a genuine look of approval as he left your neck. He was so funny sometimes, even proud of his younger slang and it made you giggle mixed with a surprise moan that slipped. “You pussy drunk ova’ me..?” You asked seductively, your knees pulled to your chest as you relaxed completely. Your e/c eyes finally looking up into his lustful blue ones, you then decided to tease him even more by pulling your thin tank top down. Those pretty dark areolas were revealed to him for the hundredth time and he still got oh so weak.

“Truly.” Erwin breathed out deeply before his face went right back down to your pussy. That pretty, wet clit was completely covered by his eager mouth. His fingers still digging softly in your gushy hole.

“Fuck. Fuck Erwin ~ that feels t-too fuckin’ good..” you whispered as your hands gripped at the sheets. This man and his tongue couldn’t be defeated. Erwin was an older man, not afraid of pussy juices or anything dealing with female anatomy. This man was experienced, ready, and always turned on by you. You didn’t need anything to turn him on. All you needed was your dirty talking mouth and your sexy body.

“Hold those beautiful breasts for me… let me drown in that vixen aura..” Erwin whispered in a purr almost. It caused vibrations in your core, almost like this earthly shock. There was nothing better than a lustful Erwin. His limit was nonexistent, and he would continue to pleasure you as long as your want was present. And you holding your pretty tits was enough to arouse him even more. His eyes glossed over your pretty nails and the way your nipples peaked from your fingers, and his cock became harder.

Erwin’s need only showed more and more before you began to feel that wrath of his.

“Erwin~… fffuck.. I love when you eat my pussy, baby. M’gonna cum on your fuckin’ tongue…” you squealed before feeling that sudden sensation in your lower stomach. Your hands squeezed tightly on your own breasts and Erwin groaned at seeing that, making this bumpy vibration on your clit. It sent you soaring for miles, and all you could do was whimper as your legs shaked.

“M’cumming…” You choked out as you reached your everlasting high. The feeling of Erwin’s fingers being squeezed alerted him that you were indeed at your high. He didn’t move, not wanting you to dive straight into overstimulation just yet. You needed to save all of your energy for the rest of the session, and that became obvious when he slowly slipped the fingers out of you and straightened his back. While between your legs anyway, Erwin finally could pull you closer.

This man had bushy eyebrows that fit his face, a sharp jawline, beautiful eyes, and a muscular body that also glowed from the sunlight. His arm was visibly strong, and his hand gripped your ankle before gently lifting you up and immediately sliding a pillow underneath you.

“You’re stunning in this light. It shows just how gorgeous your e/c eyes are.. and how beautiful your skin is..” Erwin commented this on pure instinct, his eyes scanning you dearly before you giggled. Something was just so adorable about you laughing while you were spread out for him. It made blood run to his cheeks. “It’s true..”

“Well… you’re stunnin’ while being above me.. your blonde hair.. your eyes.. your muscles.. the way you talk to me…” you trailed on in a seductive tone as you even moaned a little before reaching and pulling his underwear down enough for his cock to spring out like a surprise. It all made Erwin’s heart beat fast, his urges getting harder to keep back.

“Rub that big dick on my pussy daddy.. m’so fuckin wet… and it’s all your fault..” you grinned slightly before biting your bottom lip. All the blonde could do was leak pre cum on your clit. The underside of his cock started to rub up between your juicy folds and your soft hand touched his cock with encouragement. It made the older man jolt, only because that ring on your finger made it all better. You were going to be fully his soon, and every inch of your body was going to be marked with love.

He was going to absolutely paint your insides white and put a baby inside of you. He won’t be sorry about that though.

“That feels so fuckin’ good daddy…” you whispered to your lover, his eyes entranced with your brown pussy and his own fair skinned cock. He had a straight cock, he didn’t really have a lot of veins showing but it was quite the pretty cock. His blonde pubes weren’t much, it was intact just like his life.

“You’d love my cock inside you, wouldn’t you? Slip it in… put it in your tight pussy, love…”

“Mnh… Fuck me…” you moaned as he demanded this, your hand gently pushed on his cock to slip smoothly inside of you, and only the tip slipped for now. Erwin filled you up soon enough, right to the brim. His Dick was more girthy, and it made you feel as if you were full. The loud gushy noises made his cock going in sound hot, and to be honest? Erwin would love to listen to the melody of his cock entering you and making a lower belly bulge.

“Good girl..”

Erwin seemed oh so scary now, his face completely concentrated and his muscles already glistened with a little bit of sweat. And all while you were admiring his own beauty, his fat cock slid out of you for just one second before sliding right back in. The sounds your pussy made was embarrassing to you before, but now.. being with an older man, you knew he enjoyed every sound. “A-Ah~.. Fuck. Fuck…” suddenly you were breathing hard from just that one thrust. It was quite overwhelming, but Erwin leaned down and kissed your ear with reassurance.

“The neighbors will place another complaint on our door if you’re not quiet… then I’d have to shut them up now wouldn’t I?…” Erwin thought out loud before his eyebrows furrowed, his kisses trailed right to your lips before he kissed them dearly. His big hands pressing in the bed on the sides of your head. “They’d be better off minding their own matters rather than worrying about how much you love daddy’s cock…” Erwin muttered against your lips , a hint of anger behind his voice as he moved his hips slowly, but with desperate blows. Each thrust made you gasp for air, and you couldn’t help but drag out a whine right after each.

Erwin’s cock felt so good inside of you that you’re sure your bonnet fell clean off in this exact moment. Your breasts bounced with each thrust, and the sight of you looking like this made you look like a cute doll he couldn’t wait to drench in his cum. The bulge showing from your lower core made him watch it intently. He liked seeing how much you could take, and obviously that was much.

Seeing you put your arms underneath your knees made him all the more eager to pump you with dick. You were almost folded completely, and your painted toes with that anklet was dangling right in his face. Everything about you turned him on, and even though it was so simple, it made his thrusts faster. “Mnh~… Oh shit-.. Daddy.. Daddy, I love your big dick so fuckin’ much… cant hold it in..” you moaned, almost furrowing your brows with concern of how tense this orgasm was going to be.

The golden light was still shining on you, and now it was shining on your pussy because of this pretty angle. It looked like it was dripping gold, completely expensive folds with wine that made Erwin drunk for days on end.

“That’s okay… That’s alright. Cum. Cum on my cock, love… Your pretty pussy can take it, can’t it?”

“Y-Yesss..”

“Then cum on my cock, princess… feel every inch of me while I guide you to that high you need so much..” Erwin groaned as you got tighter, his hands jolting to underneath your legs before he pushed them forward. His cock now pounding you at an even more sensual position. You felt like this man was poking your womb from how big he was.. and how fast he was going. Your mind was blank, nothing was in it as the high was finally reached.

“Good girl… let it go, let me take care of it..” Erwin was sweet enough to slow down just a little so you wouldn’t be overstimulated. He was so rhythmic, and his cock suddenly had a white Ring around it, following with a white mess all over. This caused Erwin to pull out of your hole before watching it drip and wink at him. Your hard breathing was still obvious, and his erection hurt so bad that he wanted to slip right back in.

Erwin licked his lips before leaning down and attacking your pussy with his lips, tasting you once again. It only made you whimper and cry out from the sudden stimulation, but although you were on the brink of crying, Erwin couldn’t stand here and wait. “You have to take it again princess… once more?” He huskily whispered above you before you started to shake a little. “P-Please… c-can’t..”

“You can…” Erwin whispered back as he grabbed his pulsing cock and put it back into your hole, it fitting like a glove before he watched your tears fall down your beautiful face. The drool. The way your eyes would roll, he was in pure heaven. You looked so pretty in the morning, he didn’t understand how men couldn’t look at their woman in the morning and not melt all over again. Erwin decided to melt inside of your pussy, but it still counted.

“Look at that… you take me so well every time” Erwin groaned out as he was staring down at you and your slightly trembling legs. He did have remorse, but at the same time, your pussy was absolutely amazing. He could feel it only get wetter and he assumed it was because he was staring at your face. The eye contact made you gush and it made your heart beat faster.

The slapping skin sounded quite loud, but they weren’t fast yet. He indeed felt his orgasm brewing though, and with the weak sounds you were producing, he could only moan right along with you.

“That’s right… Grip it, love…” Erwin breathed out before his head leaned back, his grip now on your waist tightening. He was using you like a little doll now, and that pillow was helping a lot. Your skin and your breasts jiggled with each passing thrust, and he let it be the perfect show as he looked back down again. “You feel so good…” he grumbled before reaching between you both and grabbing his cock before taking it out completely but ramming it inside of you.. creating a loud mess of a moan from you..

And he continued that same rhythm. Taking his wet cock in his hands and rushing it back inside you. The gooey and gushy sounds echoed against the walls and it made you even hornier, so much so that you couldn’t figure out what you were saying yourself.

“I can’t-… Daddy-… Right there.. my pussy…”

With those tears, he listened to everything you said, but he didn’t stop. Erwin was so immersed in your pussy that he blocked out anything you said. Anything you said was incoherent now anyway, and to think it was still morning… yet you could barely comprehend what was going on. Your soon to be husband had such a great, older cock that it would send your brain spinning for miles and miles. Even as the sun was finally up, Erwin still didn’t stop pushing his fat cock in you.. He only let up when he felt you tense up again, signaling your second orgasm brimming.

With rolled eyes and your legs twitching, you were holding onto your orgasm for dear life. Erwin adored the way you looked, and he finally started thrusting with his hips again. His large thumb then began rubbing at your sweet clit while he kept thrusting. “I cannot hold my orgasm much longer..” admitting this, the older man shakily breathed in before his cock twitched. The rush from his lower body ran throughout and he couldn’t stop it. His balls contracted and he let out a string of moans that made your body shake.

“So damn beautiful…” he swore before his cum spurted inside of you. Erwin was the type to have cum that wasn’t too sticky nor too much of a liquid. It was right in the middle.. but he would cum so much in that one orgasm… He wouldn’t stop cumming inside of you. Your kitty was filled to the brim with his absurd amount of cum, and it flowed out of you like a waterfall when he pulled out. However he didn’t forget about your precious high, no. He didn’t even stop rubbing your clit. You hit that high the same time he pulled out, and you felt ecstasy once the pleasure was released.

And with battered breaths and a cheeky smirk, Erwin gently moved away from you before looking at the masterpiece. Damn did you look good with cum rushing out of you… his cum.

“Now… What should we eat for breakfast? You’re not exactly fit to stand today so I’ll cook, how’s that sound?”

ⓒ Monstas1ut , do not copy

[der7py]

Yandere Radio host x reader

Victor Rodriguez was the most popular radio host there was to date! He had late night talks shows, was always on the evening and morning radio, and was super charismatic! Only problem? He didn't have a co-star. But you'd make a lovely co-star.

Warnings: Mature language, addresses being leaked (only to yandere), stalking, car tampering, hero complex, mentions of abusive households

You swear that Victor was always on the air! Day and night, on every station. You could've sworn nobody listened to radio anymore! But apparently, with this new hotshot, everybody did now.

It's not that you disliked the man. He didn't do anything wrong. Surprisingly, unlike other radio hosts, he wasn't that boastful. But you were just sick of hearing him all the damn time.

Eventually, you tuned in (your friends wanted you to listen to him for once), and you made the mistake of accidentally calling in.

"Hello, this is Victor Rodriguez speaking! Who do I have the pleasure of talking to?" Oh wow, he answered the radio like it was just a normal contact in his phone!

You two had a surprising, really meaningful conversation! He didn't talk over you, poke fun at you for his listeners, and actually remembered things about you in the short time you talked.

You actually emailed him (he has a work email), and he responded back! You two emailed for a bit before exchanging numbers since you had made plans to hang out with him!

_______________________

Shit! You were running late! Your car just wouldn't start, and now you don't even know if he's still there. But before you could call a mechanic, a black car pulled into your driveway, and a very concerned Victor immediately jumped out of his car. "Are you okay? You didn't show up for a while, and I was worried if you got into an accident!" You felt your face heat up and start to turn pink. No man had ever done what he did. Usually, they just got impatient and left at the first minute. But Victor... he actually went looking for you. To make sure you were safe.

"Yeah sorry, my car just won't fucking start." You explained, pointing at your car which was a pretty old model. Victor cocked his head, peering into the car, before looking back at you. "You got tools so we can pop the hood up? Maybe it's the engine." What happened next you had no control over. It was magic even. You opened the hood, grabbed a toolbox out of your garage, and handed it to him. In the next 30 minutes, he had fixed whatever problem your car had.

Victor turned back to look at you with a goofy smile, and you swore your heart was moving a mile too fast. "All done! But the ice cream parlor is probably closing by now. Do you wanna just hang out here?" He asked, and you nodded your head immediately. It was surprisingly a really nice day with him! You both had a cookout, lounged in the sun, and even had a water balloon fight. You were having so much fun, you let one thing slip your mind.

How the hell did he know where you lived.

_______________________

Okay, so maybe he has every caller's address show to him and only him so he can stay safe. It's not his fault! He didn't know if his step-dad was still looking for him.

After he ran away from his abusive household (promising his mother and little siblings, he'd come back and save them from his step-dad's wrath), he immediately got picked up from a small radio station who needed a new radio host after the last one quit.

Clearly, he was better than what he expected because now he had worked his way up to the top radio station and was on nearly every channel!

So when you called in, he just expected a regular old caller, like always. But you... you were different. You actually talked to him. You made him feel alive in a way he didn't know was possible.

So he may have copied your address down just in case he needed to give you a surprise visit, but hey, who's really paying attention? Not him, and apparently not you either cause you did not have a care in the world when he showed up at your house.

You didn't even know that your car was perfectly fine the night before. But it's okay! Because he got to come to the rescue when your car wouldn't start! Even if he was the one who fucked up your engine so he could play hero.

But it's fine! Cause you didn't care, and let him play the hero. You let him be your savior! And that was perfect for him. You were perfect.

Just let him keep playing the hero. You need a hero in this world with someone as perfect as you. Just keep tuning in, and let him save you.

[stargirlfics]

sweet as silk, just like lavender

Alfred Pennyworth can’t keep his hands off you even if he tried

1.3k words - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: semi-public sexual acts, exhibitionism

from this ask prompt: alfred being obsessed with having his fingers inside you at all times

He always had you so eager for these moments, even if you were shy to admit it, Alfred could always tell by the way you melted into the flex and curl of his fingers buried between shaking legs, that you loved this just as much as he did.

Muffled moans and the hushed curses that leave your parted mouth are just encouragement, the loveliest kind of reward for a man so enraptured by the way his fingers filled you this perfectly. 

It’s like you were made for him and must be why he can’t ever get enough. 

Always left aching with need at the thought of watching you unravel before him, sweet and sticky folds parting for a thick middle finger because he was far from undisciplined in taking the time to stretch you out, he liked to be thorough with you.  

And judging by the way you were already grinding your hips into the pump of his forearm, the slick mess from your pussy leaking around his knuckles, Alfred thought maybe he could fit in a third after all. 

“Please! Feels so good, oh god…” You’re pleading, unable to keep your body from chasing after his touch, desperate for more but also painfully aware of where you were. 

You were supposed to be keeping quiet, had promised you’d behave and not draw attention to the creaking wood of the reading bench tucked in this quiet section of Wayne Manor’s library.

It was just impossible to do so when he leaned in like he was doing now to hush your cries with his free hand.

“Oh fuck…look at you. So gorgeous when you do that.” He groans when your tongue suctions to the two fingers keeping your mouth occupied, pleased by the frantic little whimpers he could still hear in your throat. 

It makes him throb when he glances down to watch where your pretty, greedy cunt is taking what he was giving, gripping him so tight he doesn’t think he can stop. 

He’d never want to either, not when you look up at him with glossy eyes that begged for the release so close to crashing down over you now. 

You were addictive in every sense. 

The first time Alfred remembers doing this together in precarious places it was his office at work, the memory making him smile. 

It was his fault for getting you so worked up throughout the day, he could say that, but then there was one too many heavy looks exchanged, your enticing voice in his ear asking him to touch you and suddenly he was doing exactly that, nevermind locking the door properly. 

He had you on your hands and knees that time, right there on the sofa across from his desk, being only slightly firm with his tone when he scolded you for driving him crazy but really he wasted little time before his silver beard was tickling your thighs as he tasted you and teased your clit at the same time. 

“You’re all I think about, you know that darling?”

Rumpled waistcoat’s and ties be damned when you were bared for him, the urge to devour and savor, to give and push you was too compelling. He knew right then and there that you could reach back and grab his hair and he wouldn’t mind if you tousled it.

How could he when he’d finally slid a finger inside and watched your lashes flutter, the quiver of your shoulders, that lovely little gasp and all the moans that followed. 

No, he didn’t mind one bit, it was perfect, he even had to retrieve your underwear from between the cushions afterwards. 

You’re a bit less concerned about getting caught than he is but he thinks that’s part of why he loves getting you off like this, the thrill is exciting.

It makes his heart swell and his cock harden that you trust and desire him so much to let him keep you teetering on the edge for however long he wanted to keep you there and then hearing you beg like that, he wanted to earn every praise and cry for more. 

You always listened so well too, determined to be rewarded with a ride on his fingers, reminiscent of that time in his car where he’d made such a mess of you. 

The windows were just beginning to fog when he pulled away from a heated kiss to reach over the console, curious hands roaming underneath clothes. 

Until he was touching the soft velvet that was you, moving back in for another embrace with a growl on his lips that you swallowed without hesitation. 

“What am I gonna do with you, hmm? Feels like you’re about to come all over my hand and I’ve barely started.” 

You answered with a whine then, needing to grab his shoulder to steady yourself the tighter the tension inside you swirled until he was withdrawing his touch to taste your very essence off his fingers, uninterested in keeping you waiting any longer. 

Even in the awkward confines of a car he could curl his fingers just right, nudging against that sweet, spongey spot that made you melt into pieces, the pleasure climbing with each slow and measured push of his wrist. 

Alfred could be so gentle but intense, nearly overwhelming you with bliss and leaving you happy and hazy for hours after and nothing short of that was acceptable for him. 

He’d spend hours like that if he could. 

It’s why he’s got your legs pushed back almost to your chest in this private corner of the library now, your t-shirt bunched around your waist and presently what he was using as leverage to rock you back into his thrusts. 

“Think you’re ready, love?” 

“Yes, fuck yes please. I want it…want you so bad, Alfred.” 

The way you say his name cracks something open in him and he’s fitting a third finger next to the two already filling you to the brim. 

Pulsing and warm, the added stretch has you covering your mouth to stifle the noise threatening to rip loose from your chest but the ache of pleasure just seemed to grow spreading from your center to the tips of your pointed toes. 

“That’s it, there you are such a sweet little thing. Mmm, I’m proud of you, darling.” Alfred coos against the inside of your knee.

He can’t help but swell with pride, his eyes trying to commit the sight of you to memory. 

Dew beading up on your pretty, bronze skin and the taut tremble of your muscles as he picks up pace just a little, striving to make your head fall back against the stained glass window above you. 

In his mind you deserve to be immortalized in the glass too, the vision that you are. 

His forearm braces when you jolt into his touch, fingers pushing a little deeper and keeping that relentless pressure against your walls while his thumb rubbed soothingly over your clit, again and again. 

“Ohh thank you, I’m-shit I think I’m-“ You’re trying to warn him, caught off guard by the sudden grip around your hips with his other hand, effectively keeping you in place. 

He doesn’t have to say a word, knows you’ll be dripping down his palm any second now as your head tips back and exposes your neck, pulse beating wildly.

You let yourself float away, leaning into everything you were feeling and letting go like he would want you to do, your lips meeting his again in a fiery heat, a passion so white hot you want to scream from how it makes your nerves tingle. 

But Alfred is right there to hold you together as you fall apart and he’s all you see when the pleasure begins to ebb and the warm comedown washes over you. Just like always. 

It’s delicious and delectably filthy and neither of you wanted it any other way. 

Forever thinking about being in compromising positions with that old man! This was fun to write and I hope you enjoyed! Also listened to DRIP by EVAN GIIA while writing this/brainstorming for this, the title comes from the lyrics and now I’m gonna go look at pics of Andy Serkis hands, do not disturb lmao

Thank you for reading 🫶🏾

<3 dividers by @/saradika-graphics <3

[darylsdelts]

What about angst with Daryl??? I have a bot I made for myself following this thought 💀

Like an argument where things get said, causing silence for a couple of days and then boom! Next time you see him, it’s at the lineup…and then he gets taken…and then we see him again in Hilltop 🥲🥲🥲

(i actually broke my own heart with this one, my bot is so realistic it hurts 😭)

Anon! Drop the link RIGHT NOW!!!

This made my heart drop, I just know my poor boy would be blaming himself for everything.

Immediately after the argument, all Daryl wanted to do was come back to you and apologise in his own way. He wanted to hug you and tell you he didn’t mean what he said… but he didn’t.

He gave you some space, knowing it was probably best for both of you. The next few days were close to hell. Every time he’d see you on the streets of Alexandria he’d stare, hoping for atleast a bit of eye contact to know you were okay but you would just pretend you hadn’t seen him.

Daryl didn’t know that he could feel that sort of pain in his chest, like he was being physically crushed.

Christ, is this what women can do?

From then on he’d assume the worst.

You didn’t love him anymore.

So he’d pretend nothing ever happened, he’d talk to you if it were necessary but otherwise acted like the old Daryl, the one you had met before the spark grew.

Little did Daryl know how badly that hurt you… you were in the same position, you wanted to give him space and assumed he’d come back when he was ready but he never did.

So you assumed the worst.

He didn’t love you anymore.

You went along with Daryl’s act, assuming that’s what he had wanted you to do… but you missed him, you missed your Daryl. The one you had finally managed to break the defences of, the one who was starting to be more open with you but now all of that was gone, it disappeared like it never happened.

It was getting harder to monitor when Daryl was out and when he was within the walls since now he didn’t leave notes for you, but you’d seen him ride out today, seemingly angry about something but you could also tell he was hurting. You weren’t sure what had happened, no one had told you as of yet but some hours later you were sure that Daryl’s absence was something to worry about.

But you never thought it would be this.

You were pushed to your knees, your family lined up either side of you in a small clearing. The back doors of a van opened up, you couldn’t see what or who was in there but there was some commotion… and then loud panting.

You knew… god you fucking knew something happened, you should have spoken up earlier, maybe he wouldn’t be getting dragged out of a van right now, his shoulder leaking blood onto some sort of blanket that had been draped around him.

Fuck, did he get shot?

You lean forward, trying to look down the line of your family to catch Daryl’s gaze.

And after all those weeks, you finally did.

Daryl looked at you through his sweaty locks, his eyes dark and watery with frustration, his eyebrows twitch downwards when he saw you, he saw the fear and concern on your face and all of it was too much, he had to look away or he was gonna throw up from anxiety.

It was torture for Daryl, knowing you were frightened, knowing all of this before him was his fault.

When that asshole, Negan, stuck that damn bat in your face is when he lost all control of himself. Daryl jumped up and smashed his fist into Negan’s jaw, then trying to take further steps to tackle him but he was grabbed and pushed to the ground like a wild fucking animal.

He grunted and squirmed as his hair was pulled, he could hear you crying for them to stop.

“Get off of him! Get off! Daryl, get up!”

Fuck, he was trying to.

Eventually he was dragged back to his place in the line.

He wanted to look over to you but he was so fucking scared now, his heart was beating way too fast and his head was spinning.

He stole a short glance your way and he saw your hands covering your face, palms pushing into your eyes as you choked on your sobs.

He’d done this to you.

You would never forgive him for this.

Daryl just had to sit there, bleeding out from his shoulder as Negan battered members of his family before his eyes, he was sure he’d been the cause for the second death, Glenn. Maybe if he’d just stay put, he could’ve stopped that, he should’ve listened.

“No exceptions”

But he didn’t and it was his fault, he’d have to leave his family, they would never allow for someone like him to live with them now.

Turns out, that was the one thing he didn’t need to worry about, as he was stuffed straight back into the van, apparently Negan wanted to keep him.

Daryl doesn’t know how long he was in that cell for, it felt like years and all he could do was think of you. He was so fucking sorry and he knew he’d never get the chance to make it up to you and even if he did, you wouldn’t want to hear it. Rick wouldn’t want him back in the group but Daryl couldn’t stay here, he’d have to get out and survive on his own, completely.

With some help from one of ‘Negan’s wives’, Daryl escaped, however, his plan of escaping and surviving alone dissipated once he saw Jesus stood in front of him.

He’d come to get him out.

They wanted him back?

Back home?

Surely not.

The journey to hilltop was a fever dream, Daryl was unbelievably anxious, his breaths short, causing Jesus to keep checking on him to which Daryl didn’t reply to. In fact Daryl hadn’t opened his mouth the entire time.

As soon as they arrived at the gates, he could feel his throat closing up.

Were you here? Did you even want to see him? Probably not.

As the gates opened, Daryl kept his head down, following behind Jesus toward one of the medical trailers.

But then he heard his name.

“Daryl?… Daryl?!”

Daryl’s head slowly lifted to the direction of the voice, your voice. You were speed walking, no, now you were running toward him. You slung your arms around him, burying your face into his neck as you cried with… relief.

“You’re here, you’re back, you’re safe… safe now… I’m sorry, I love you so much, Daryl”

Daryl stood as still as stone. You were sorry? He should be the one apologising. You’re glad he’s back? You love him? You still love him.

His heart clenches at the thought.

He feels you pull away, your soft hands holding the sides of his face as your beautiful sparkly eyes look into his own. God he doesn’t deserve this.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

Suddenly it all seems to sink in and tears are blurring his vision as he shakes his head slightly, no.

“It’s gonna be okay now, you’re here with me now”

He could feel the life flooding back into him, pushing his face into the crook of your neck as he completely breaks down, hiding his face from the world as he lets out loud, uncontrolled sobs into the fabric of your shirt.

“M-M’s-sorry…. M’so-orry… L-love you so m-much…”

You gently rub his back to soothe him, now realising that your sweet man had blamed himself for everything that had happened.

“Ssshh it’s not your fault… let’s get you inside”

You feel him nod ever so slightly and then you lead him towards barrington house, all whilst trying to stay away from prying eyes of the community.

“I’m so glad you’re home, Daryl”

He didn’t reply with words but agreed internally, however, he meant it differently. It didn’t matter where he was, wherever you were was home and he’s so relieved to still have that.

This is so badly written, I’m sorry! But Tysm for the prompt! This was pretty fun to write.

[morguecuts]

Running From Vain

five hargreeves x fem!reader synopsis: you confuse anger for love. word count: 1.8k tags: angst, heavy fluff, kissing, touching, etc. technically adopted siblings? lots of character lore lol note: story was written with s4 visuals in mind. this is my first time writing tua fanfic so i hope u enjoy. i apologize in advance for being an extremely detailed writer :)

♱⛧ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⛧♱

the 8th hargreeves child was the one that reginald kept hidden and locked away for decades. her blood regeneration was able to flow through not only herself but others as well, being able to save them from death and retrieve their leaking souls when needed. she lacked the ability to control them from a young age, and her powers were deemed too impactful to society fairly quickly. when a mission goes rather poorly, she is revealed to the world by mistake. since then she’s been known as the outcast to everyone, including her own siblings. the world is coming to an end once again, issues are constantly arising with all connections pointing to the umbrella academy. the family already lost beloved parts of itself in the past, and they bare to lose any more. tension has been brewing for years and one wrong comment leads to a certain couple releasing deep emotions, both good and bad.

♱⛧ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⛧♱

his hands travel from the sides of his face upwards towards the messy black hair that lays upon his head. their strands are falling to perfectly frame the chiseled boy below them. an unpleasant expression is sprawled across five’s face, his tired eyes clenched closed as his eyebrows pinch together. 

“no, you don't understand! we can’t keep wasting time, everything will be gone tomorrow.” he opens his mouth for the time in what feels like hours. his chest begins to rise and fall quickly. his feet start to carry him back and forth, passing you every few moments while his eyes are locked onto you. the hallway where you both reside is tense, heavy, and secluded from the rest of the house. for being in such a mammoth size mansion, with 7 other siblings, a robot mother, and an intelligent monkey, the world seems to be silent. the only noise that can be heard is the faint sound of five breathing, releasing a few deep sighs as he does. 

“i understand perfectly well, but your plan is useless. you are so insufferable to work with, i mean come on five, be realistic for once! if we listen to viktor then we might actually be able to stop the apocalypse.” you make an attempt at replying, but it seems like he’s starting to ignore you. 

the air is intoxicating, you hate him, you hate what he did to the umbrella name, and especially to you. it’s time for someone to stand up and confront his decision making. everything he does is egotistical and arrogant. his words are sharp and impactful in the most negative ways imaginable. the sound of his shuffling feet stop, his dark beaded eyes trace every aspect of your face before opening his mouth in response to you. 

“you know you’re a real piece of work right? calling me insufferable is completely distasteful when all you do is follow diego around like a lost puppy. it’s fucking embarrassing for everyone in this family, and you know it.” he stops to let out a small chuckle before pointing his finger towards your chest. “don't even make me mention the grave mistake you made on our last mission either” his expression is ridden in evil, a small upturned smile resting on his face and he stares into you.

“that was not my fault,” you spit back, angrily stepping towards him. “i am the ONLY person who TRIED to help ben and everyone who was in that chamber could tell you that themselves.” red flashes of anger spread across your skin as you continue to step closer to five. “he died from something completely unrelated to my powers, but I FUCKING TRIED! I DID, NOT ALLISON, NOT DIEGO, ME.” by this time you are meters away from being chest to chest with the boy. 

“you’re a waste of space. you disappoint everyone in this house.” he glares down, his taller figure towers over you menacingly.

"that's really rich coming from you." you take a step back and laugh to yourself. "do you know that nobody in this family likes you anymore? hmm? after all the shit you've constantly put us through, five?”

"i dedicated my entire life to saving your asses, i spent 40 goddamn years in an apocalypse just to come back and save all of you countless times! what do i get in return? impertinence." his demeanor is getting worsened by each remark, hot red anger is spread across his face as he snaps back at you. 

"none of us asked you to! you are always taking charge and forcing us to follow your plans, what if we didn't want to do this anymore? you're such a narcissist everything is always about you!" a near table rattled slightly from the yelling, the flowerpot on top shook before calming back down after a moment. 

"fuck you. fuck all of you. i'm TIRED of trying to save this family. if you all want to die in another apocalypse, then be my guest." he scoffs looking at you one more time and turns to walk away. "god you're so pathetic, always teleporting away when things don't go your way. you’re so childish." you hiss

"what did you say to me?" five spins back around, his feet carrying him back towards you. "you heard me." you raise your head and straighten up, holding his tough gaze. by this time the two of you are practically chest to chest again, his eyes beaming down into you. if he wasn’t human, you'd imagine smoke being blown from his ears and nostrils out of anger.

"say it again." 

"you're. fucking. pathetic." 

in a heartbeat his lips are smashing into you hungrily. one of his hands is gripping your face while the other snakes around your waist. all of the pent up anger between the both of you comes crashing down, blending into lust. he feels warm, his soul is bleeding into yours as his tongue explores your mouth. his hands are running all over your body, stopping to hold onto your mid section, then your behind, and finally dragging their way up to your neck. five pulls back, panting slightly, his eyes searching yours worried and confused.

“do you want this?”  

“more than anything.” you drive your hands into his hair, yanking his lips back into yours. his small smile is felt pressing into your mouth, fingers lingering around the belt loops on the front of your jeans. he’s pulling your body into his as he deepens the kiss, groaning into you when you rub against him slightly. 

he pulls away and leaves trails of hot wet kisses on the front of your throat. you grumble and moan at this touch, causing five to laugh into your skin. he leaves small love bites all over your neck and collarbones while you run your hands through his hair. his eyes glance up at you, a different light beams through them now then moments before. his anger has faded into something similar to love. his little pecks come to a slow rhythm before he returns to your lips. dragging you into him, the two of you slowly begin backing up towards one of the hallway walls. 

he presses his long fingers into the sides of your waist, shoving you into the stone behind you. five’s grip is firm and tight, stopping you from being able to wiggle loose. the way his mouth moves is like a work of art. there’s no doubt that someone had taught him how to kiss like this, but my god, you are thankful for them. you touch him memorizing every piece of his body from his chest, his jawline, to the back of his neck, and up through his hair. the way he leans into your touches with such desperation is absolutely god like.

his slight groans and noises grow in volume when you reach your fingers towards his waist. a sly hand lifting the edge of his shirt and running along the front of his bare body. his small smile returns, pulling back from your lips. 

“your hands are cold.” he leans forward, placing a kiss on your forehead. the invisible bubble draped over the two of you seems to pop. he’s moving hands into the back pocket of your jeans, keeping you pressed into him. you smile at the small actions, glaring up to analyze his face.

“come with me” five reaches for your hand interlocking his fingers between yours. his feet are ready to speed away as he gently pulls you toward whenever he’s leading. 

“five we can’t…” you look at him guilty. 

“no, no… not that.” his head shakes in disbelief as he smiles at you. “please just trust me and come” his hand tugs at yours pleadingly. 

there’s another moment of hesitation before you give him a small nod and move your feet to follow his. the grip he has on your hand tightens as he pulls you forward, a blue smokey powder flashes in front of you before realizing what he was doing. 

there’s a millisecond of discomfort and stinging before you feel the ground beneath your feet again. it hadn’t crossed your mind before how it felt for five to use his powers, but my god it was strange. 

the room is similar to a greenhouse with its large glass windows and open ceiling. it’s covered in vines and greenery with a small white pitched tent in the center. there are boxes and a large wooden table to the side, scattered papers sprawled over its surface. there’s a couple whiteboards on the back wall with calculations and symbols scribbled all over. the messy handwriting looks like five’s, and a photo of his stupid mannequin ex-girlfriend, delores, is hung from one of them confirming this was his doing. 

“where are we?” you glance at him before returning to observe the room.

“the highest level of the house, it’s locked behind one of dads bookshelves but i found it a couple years ago. i used to sneak in here when i needed a quiet place. it’s hard to be bothered when nobody else can get inside except for me” he smiles down at you, tracing small circles with his thumb onto your hand, still intertwined.

you analyze the writings and questions scattered along the room, puzzled about the true purpose of being taken up here. he looks at you confidently while holding a small pale wooden box with the umbrella logo printed on top. 

“i didn't think you were ready before, but i think you are now. i know how we will all survive the apocalypse.” 

 ♱⛧ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⛧♱

thank you so much for reading!

i hope you’ve enjoyed it, please feel free to make any comments or story requests down below. any support is always appreciated <3

[chaifootsteps]

feeling bad for the fans holding out hope that Via's one line from the trailer about 'you never loved me or mother you love him [Blitz]' will be part of the narrative holding Stolas accountable

if the storyboard leak is still accurate Via says that right before ditching Stolas outside Andre's castle. Viv is again framing him as the victim because Stella/Andre have been screening Stolas' calls so she thinks he doesn't care (so it's not his fault) and she gets mad at him for using anti-depressants (which is pretty transparently designed to make Via look bad and unreasonable imo). the only thing she's allowed to mention that makes some sense is his choosing Blitz over her which is similar to Blitz getting to vaguely gesture at Stolas being a pompous royal without the writers letting him use specific examples anyone would think to mention

and speaking of - it's the exact same writing issue as all the stuff with Blitz.

everything she could say that's reasonable for her to be upset about - why didn't he call her when he got hurt and was in the hospital (texting Blitz first instead), why didn't he do anything to ensure either of their safety after he knows Stella called a hitman on him, why didn't he tell her about that, why did he instead spend all that time focused on getting a crystal for Blitz only to get drunk when he got rejected, why did he risk her inheritance for sex - I'm pretty confident the vast majority of this stuff will never be brought up

instead she's only ever going to be mad at him for things that are either not his fault or unreasonable on her part. it's embarrassing to feel so defensive of a character that his 17yr old is next to be forced to take stupid pills just so the narrative can favor him

An all likelihood, they'll learn the hard way what we all had to learn...that holding out hope for anything when it comes to HB is a recipe for disappointment.

[slicznymartwy]

saccharine pt ii (you're billy's favorite)

cis fem reader

warning: billy's being fucking weird again. stalking you from inside the house, stealing your panties, humping your pillow, breaking into your room and masturbating. obsessive billy. 69ing. dead dove stuff. don't read if that bothers you

read pt i

read on ao3 here

Billy waits until the house is empty to drop from the attic.

He passes by Claude in the hallway, who gives him a disinterested once over before rolling onto his other side.

“Meow,” Billy says, stopping next to the old cat.

Claude croaks a little hello, and Billy goes on his way.

When he first started staying in the big brown house on Belmont Street, Billy spent his lonely days investigating the sluts’ bedrooms one by one. It was fun to dig around aimlessly, poking through their dirty clothes and their garbage cans, until he would hear a noise and scrambled back up the attic.

In those early days, he did his best to be extra cautious; no matter how badly he wanted to, he never took any panties with him back to the attic and he never messed with their beds. He knew that if they found out he was looking through their rooms, they’d chase him out. He wanted to stay with all of you in the big brown whorehouse.

Your room was the last room he explored, it being the closest to the staircase to the main floor. Standing in front of your door for the first time, he had no way of knowing how much you would change him.

The smell in your room was intoxicating. It was sweet, like pretty flowers in a crystal vase. It soaked into your messy sheets, which he stumbled towards excitedly, and he buried his face against the indent where your body must have been. He breathed in deeply, eyes fluttering shut, then moaned. Was he already getting hard?

Again, he breathed in deeply, moving so that he was laying on the bed. You smelled so good, whoever you were. He wished that he could put a face to this smell. Wished he could imagine whose pussy he’d fuck while you rubbed your pretty scent all over him.

His jeans were tight and pushing his dick down against the mattress made him moan again. Sitting straight, he crawled up the bed and dropped down with his head against your pillows. The smell was even stronger here, and he shoved his face into the soft white cushion as far as it could go.

He was definitely hard now, pressing against the unforgiving denim. He undid his pants and let himself free. Breathing in deeply, he wrapped his hand just around the tip of his cock and squeezed.

“Pretty pig,” he whispered, lips moving against the wet spot already forming on the pillow. He tried to slurp up some of his drool, but his heavy breathing made it pointless. It didn’t matter to him either way.

He fisted his cock a few times, but his hand was dry even with the leaking fluid that gathered at his slit. As he breathed in your pillow, his mind began to wander; he pictured your pretty imaginary head against these pillows every night, rubbing your smell on them. You had pressed your cheek to these pillows, your hair, maybe even your lips. These pillows were like your face, Billy concluded. He wanted to fuck your face.

After that point, he’d made it a habit to visit your room almost every day. It was your fault, really. You shouldn’t smell so good, shouldn’t have such soft pillows, shouldn’t be such a perfect pretty pig slut.

Today, he opens your door, just like he had done yesterday and like he will do tomorrow, and shuts it behind him.

Walking to your bed, he passes by your dresser. He can see right away your bottle of perfume, the one you put on whenever you came from your shower. He knows from experience that it tastes like shit, but it must be something about you that makes the chemically fluid become so delicious. He wants to lick the smell off of you. Wants to suck it out with his mouth.

He’s quick today. He hasn’t eaten much food this past week and he’s eager to dig into the kitchen, but this is more important. If someone came home early, he’d much rather go to sleep hungry than having missed you.

Putting the pillow towards the middle of the bed, he straddles it before pulling his cock out. After a few strokes, he’s hard enough to rub against you. He pictures your face, pretty and blushy. He pictures your glasses too, how they’d get knocked off while he rubbed his cock against your cheek.

It’s so good, and Billy’s mind swims. He’s fucking your face, your mouth, your thighs, your pussy. He’s rubbing his cock on your shoulder and your arm. He’s getting his leaky clear fluid on your hair and on your thigh. His drool makes your tits shiny. The pillow is so soft against the tip of his cock, and he humps it like a dirty dog. Dirty Billy.

But even with how good it is, it isn’t enough anymore. He’s had this fantasy for weeks now, and he needs to cum more than he wants to live. With shaky legs, he stands and wanders the room, searching in the usual spots. He opens your white laundry hamper and sees them immediately. With a little smile at the corners of his lips, he takes your panties and smells them. You must have worn these all day yesterday. He licks at the little strip of cotton where your cunt would have been. His cock twitches.

“Pig cunt,” he mutters sharply, waddling back to the bed. His cock is rock hard and jutting out from his opened pants, and he’s quick to press it against your pillow again. As he rocks his hips, he puts your panties to his mouth and nose and breaths in.

It only takes a few more thrusts against the pillow before he’s coming, and he’s quick to drop the pretty pink panties to his cock to catch his hot white cum. It’s so messy and sticky, and a couple drops still land on your cushion anyways. He needs a minute to catch his breath, and he rolls onto his back, looking up at the ceiling.

He had done the same thing his first time too, mind pleasantly fuzzy after his orgasm. He had stared at the wooden ceiling and thought about how this was your view every night. Maybe one day, you could both lay here and stare at the ceiling together. Back then, he was so lost in his daydream that he almost missed the hole between the floorboards just above the bed. Almost.

His life changed so much the day he met you.

Standing after a few calming moments, he flips the pillow onto its other side and drops it back at the head of your bed. Next, the panties go into your hamper, and then he fixes his pants. His stomach growls angrily and he sighs as he pats it.

Claude follows him to the kitchen.

“It’s for you,” Clare says, holding the phone out to you as you pass by. “He said he’s from your orgo class.”

There’s only one guy who calls you about organic chemistry. You breathe in sharply as you glance at the phone. Not wanting to alarm your friend, you fake a smile and take the handset.

“Thanks,” you say, and watch as Clare walks off. You’re not a child, you tell yourself. You can be brave. You take a calming breath in and out before you hold the phone up to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hi,” the Moaner says, laughter making his voice sound so boylike that you wonder how old he is.

“What do you want?” you ask, closing your sweater around you with your free hand. You turn your back to the living room.

He moans obscenely then swallows, the sound so wet and desperate that you wonder what he’s doing to himself.

“You. You pig cunt,” he says, spitting out each word like they’re accusations. He laughs again and you close your eyes.

“What’s your name?” you ask him calmly. He responds with yours instead, and you try not to shake by clenching your sweater even tighter.

“Your name,” you say again, emphasizing the first word. Still, he says yours like he’s proud of it. He laughs, then says it again.

“Cut that out,” you snap at him. “This isn’t fair. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

“What’s the change in enthalpy?” he whispers.

“I’m going to hang up if you don’t tell me,” you threaten. He groans, but it doesn’t sound pleasured anymore. It’s as if he’s in pain. Or, your mind supplies unhelpfully, he’s the sort that likes them at the same time. You sigh heavily, both at him and your overactive imagination.

“What’s the change in enthalpy? Pig slut. I’m gonna, gonna stick my tongue up your pig cunt,” he mutters into your ear.

“No, you won’t,” you say dismissively. You regret it immediately as the line goes dead. Even when he wasn’t talking, you could hear him and his mouth, breathing and licking and moaning. Now, it was silent. “Hello?” you say after a long stretch of silence.

“Filthy Billy,” he says finally.

“Is that your name? Billy?” you say, straightening up a bit. He moans then, and you have no doubt that one is from pleasure. “You’re disgusting, Billy.”

“Disgusting Billy,” he mumbles back, panting and moaning and slurping at his lips. Why are you feeling so hot all of a sudden? You clench your thighs and look over your shoulder.

“You talk a lot, Billy. You make a lot of promises,” you whisper into the handset.

“Gon- gonna suck your piggy clit,” he mumbles, so sweet that your stomach flutters with butterflies.

“No, Billy. I don’t think you’re brave enough,” you goad.

“Gonna lick it,” he groans, stretching out each word and letting you hear every syllable. “Piggy cunt. Stick my tongue up your pretty pussy.”

“I don’t believe you,” you say, gulping. You’re still trying to stay brave, but you can’t understand the warmth in your belly.

“You want my fat cock, you cunt,” he snaps at you, cutting off the end of your sentence.

“Do you know where I live, Billy?” you ask suddenly. The line goes dead again. You didn’t know you were so good at shutting him up. “If you want me so bad, come and get me.”

You slam the handset down and half expect it to start ringing again. It’s quiet, even after a minute. Feeling satisfied, you nod at the phone and head back to the living room. You sure showed him.

The hallway is black as pitch, and Billy stands in front of your bedroom door. The house is filled with the sounds of sleeping, all except for your room. An orangey light shines through between the door and the floor. He can hear the scratchy sound of a pencil on paper, and the occasional sigh from your lips.

He can’t believe he’s so close to you, and his cock twitches in anticipation. Already, he can smell your flowery crystal scent from here.

He doesn’t knock. Quiet as a mouse, he turns the doorknob slowly and eases the door open. Staring through the newly made crack, he can see that your back is to the door, head hunched down over the textbooks on your desk. Carefully, he steps inside and shuts the door behind him.

Billy knows the creaky floorboards to avoid as he makes his way behind you, and he’s so close that he could touch your hair with the tip of his finger if he held his arm out straight. He waits there for a while before you realize you’re being watched.

“Fuck!” you squeak, jumping in your seat before turning to face your intruder. Books and pens clatter to the floor and a sheet of paper is crumpled in your hand. Your eyes are so wide and beautiful as you stare at him.

You’re shaking. Billy wants to fuck you and cum on your face and your ass and your slit. He wants to lick it, lick it, lick it.

“Hi,” he whispers.

“You- you.” With trembling hands, you let go of the paper and push your hair out of your face. You can’t seem to speak, your lips moving with words you don’t say.

“It’s me, Billy,” he says, shaking too. It’s so hard to hold himself back, and his fingers are so scratchy with his need to touch you. “Agnes.”

“I’m not Agnes,” you respond, staring back at him from your seat.

“I’m here, Agnes,” he says quietly.

“That’s not my name,” you say again. When you stand, Billy takes a half step backwards.

“That’s not my name,” he responds, unconsciously matching your pitch. He lets out a shuddering breath.

Your smell was everywhere, so much stronger with you in the room. It wasn’t just a vase of flowers anymore; your smell was like an overgrown garden, with dirt and honeysuckles and animals.

Your name falls from his lips without his brain’s permission, and he feels kind of like how he was supposed to feel when he went to church as a kid.

“Billy,” you say softly in return, and Billy has to swallow noisily or he might drool past his lips.

“I found you,” he says, and he makes fists against his thighs.

“You did.” Even though your voice was quiet, you didn’t sound scared anymore. Billy glanced down at your body and saw that you were already wearing your night dress, made with white flowy cotton that danced and twirled with every step you took towards your bed; Billy watched helplessly as you sat down on the edge of it.

Billy’s breath was ragged, and he felt like he had been running for miles. Here you were, looking up at him with your pretty eyes and your pretty hair. Pretty pussy, pretty pig cunt that he wants to fill with his hot cum until it oozes out, lazy and slow. He tries to lick his lips, but he can’t stop panting like a dog. He should be used to this; he’s watched you from this exact same spot up in the attic. He’s already cummed on you.

He should have known from his calls with you, it was your attention that made him lose his mind. He’s about ready to scream out loud when you hold out your hand to him.

“Come here,” you whisper. Billy stares at your hand, then at your face. Pretty face. He steps forward like he’s falling.

You lead him to sit beside you, and Billy can feel your heat pressing along his leg where you touch him. He stares down where his rough denim meets your white dress. He doesn’t jump when you put your hand on the side of his face.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot, Billy,” you say. Billy drags his eyes up to you. You’re so close. He breaths through his nose. You stand, leaving Billy on the bed, and you don’t take your hand off him until he’s out of your reach.

In front of him, you pull your dress up and over your head. Billy blinks. You’re naked.

“Not so talkative now, huh?” you say with a little smile. Billy’s eyes are so wide as he takes you in. He wishes he could take a picture like this. Wishes he could take the picture with him back to the attic so he can cum on it one million times and stroke your face with his thumb. “Take off your sweater, Billy.”

Billy breaths in and out a few times to catch his breath.

“Don’t pussy out now. What happened to dirty Billy?” you taunt.

“Filthy Billy,” he mumbles, and he has to lick his lips. Sitting like this, he’s at eyelevel with your soft stomach, and he wants to pull you close to kiss his way down to your pussy. He wants to part your pussy lips with his tongue and trace it all the way up until it hits your clit. He wants to rip you apart and live inside your tight wet heat.

“Show me how filthy you are,” you whisper, taking a step closer to him. Billy groans, hearing the wet click of your pussy as you moved. Shaking, he lifts his sweater over his head and throws it to the floor. When you sit beside him again, he can feel your soft warm arm against his own.

Billy gulps and stares down at your lap, because if he looks into your eyes, he might wrap his hands around your neck and squeeze until your face turns blue. He digs his fingers into his denim-covered thigh.

“It’s okay, Billy,” you murmur and take his hand. “Can I kiss you?”

“You can suck my cock,” he mumbles helplessly. He smacks his lips like he’s dying of thirst and laughs softly. He can’t stomach looking at you.

“You’re such a pervert,” you tell him, like he doesn’t already know. Filthy, disgusting Billy.

“Wanna put my tongue up your piggy cunt,” he says, but he can’t touch you yet. You let out a hot breath, and he can feel it on his shoulder. He shudders and presses his mouth closed.

“Take off your pants,” you whisper. It’s a secret, and a dirty one.

Billy can’t move fast enough. His hands are still shaking as he opens his pants, and he stands for just long enough to pull them down with his underwear. His cock is hard, and it lolls against his thigh when he sits again. He can feel your eyes on his face still.

“Can I kiss you, Billy?”

He nods and keeps nodding even when you cup his face and pull him in for a gentle kiss. He only stops when he feels your tongue on his bottom lip, and his cock drools against his overheated skin. He whines against you and presses his forehead against yours while he takes a shaking inhale.

“Lay down with me,” you say quietly, putting your warm milky creamy hand on his chest.

“Wanna suck-“ Billy swallows thickly, gasping his breaths again. “Wanna suck your clit.”

“Lay on your back,” you say, more insistent as you push him onto his back. Again, his cock bobs with the movement and settles flat on his stomach. Billy lets a broken groan come from his throat as your hand moves lower on his torso. You shush him, and the sounds sends a chill down his spine, like icy spiders.

“You’ll wake my sisters up,” you tell him, lips brushing against his ear.

“I’ll lick their cunts too,” he whispers back. He tries to look at you from the corner of his eye, but it’s like looking at the sun. His head hurts being this close to you, and the smell is like being drunk. When you smile, he looks away.

“What about me?” you ask, and Billy feels your hand on the shaft of his cock. He chokes on his spit and coughs, turning on his side away from you. He laughs because he doesn’t know what else to do.

“S-slut,” he says, slowly going onto his back again.

“You’re mean.” Billy watches you get onto your knees beside him. “You talk so much, Billy.”

He moans when you turn yourself around and swing your leg over him, and all he can see is your pussy – pretty, pink, and so creamy for him. His hands move on instinct and wrap around your thighs, pulling you flush to his face.

There’s no point in wasting time, not when his heart and his cock are competing on which could throb the hardest. The sound of his tongue against your wet slit is terrible and it makes him feel like he’s drowning. He can’t help but moan, letting his tongue trace along your meaty folds before burying deep inside your cunt.

You’re making sounds too, but Billy hardly cares. This was what he had been dreaming about for so long. He wasn’t just dirty pervert Billy who made empty promises. He was Billy who takes. Billy who isn’t afraid to be seen. Billy who can be brave when he wants to be.

Still, he nearly shouts when he feels your lips on the tip of his cock.

“So good, Billy, that’s so good,” you’re whispering, but everything is so loud between your legs. His breaths echo, and everything is so fucking wet. He can feel your slick on his cheeks and on his chin, and every move of his tongue clicks against your needy fuckhole.

His cock feels tight, like it’s going to fall off, but then you wrap your lips around him and swallow him down so far that your nose touches his balls. He tightens his grip on your thighs until you cry out against him, your wet hot mouth vibrating against him.

It’s more perfect than Billy could have imagined, feeling your cunt clench around his tongue as he fucks it in and out of you. He wants more of you, wants you dead so he can take you without having to talk to you, wants you alive to hear your voice. He wants to fuck his cock so far down your throat you suffocate. He wants to make you cum again and again until you’re beginning him to stop.

“Love you,” he tries to say, but it sounds mangled against your cunt. He kisses your pretty piggy pussy lips and feels like maybe he’s turned into a pillow, with the way you ride on his face.

Maybe that’s all he is, maybe he’s so messed up in his brain because he’s a pillow that turned human. Maybe he’s only meant to be your thing to hump against, to sleep on, to get your smell all over before washing it. Billy thinks it would be nice to roll around in a clothes dryer.

Your lips are soft against his hot swollen cock, and he bucks wildly when you wrap a hand around his base and suck at his tip. He grunts into your fleshy cunt, nose bumping against your folds before returning his tongue to its rightful place. But, from the bottom, there’s not much he can do but take – take your mouth on his cock, and take your cunt on his mouth.

He doesn’t last long, but he never does when he can help it. He could have probably come from eating your pussy alone; at least he would have lasted longer. He bucks into your mouth, but your firm grip at his base keeps him from gagging you. He shoots his cum in your mouth instead, and he feels you swallowing around the tip of his cock. Even when he’s finished, you suck like you’re trying to get more out.

“Slut,” he tries to moan, and he sounds wretched. He holds onto your thighs still as you move more frantically on top of him. When you sit up, your press your cunt even harder against his face and he stabs his tongue deeper than before.

Billy makes a depraved noise, a mix between a groan and a choking cough, as you clench down tight around him like you’ll rip his tongue straight out of his mouth. He’d let you, he thinks desperately, he’ll let you take his cock too if you want it. You can sleep on him and hump him and use him however you want.

Your legs shake as you clench down again, and then you collapse forward, pussy lifting off of his face enough to see it quivering and sopping wet. Mindlessly, he picks up his head and leans forward to lick at it some more, broad strokes from your clit up to you blinking hole. He laps at it until you’re quiet, and then laps some more until you lift your hips too far for him to reach.

Rolling off him, he’s suddenly exposed to your chilly bedroom air, and he longs desperately for you to cover him again. If he wasn’t so cum-dumb, he might’ve tried to pull you back on him again. Instead, he watches you from the corner of his vision as you lay down, shoulders touching his.

“Wanna spend the night?” you whisper once you catch your breath. He shakes his head, still panting out loud. He’s not sure if his heart will ever slow down again.

“At least stay for a little while,” you say. You touch his hand gently. He wants to snatch it away on instinct, but a moment passes, and he’s surprised that he likes it. His hand is limp as you wrap yours around it.

“Are you gonna keep calling?” you murmur. It feels like one of those questions that has a right answer, but Billy doesn’t even know where to start. He tells the truth instead, and nods.

“Pretty… pretty cunt,” he says, letting go of your hand to brush along your thigh towards your cunt. He touches your clit with his sticky finger, and you jolt like you were struck by lightning.

“That’s too much,” you whine. Billy lets his hand rest on your lower stomach instead, feeling your scratchy hairs against his palm.

You’re quiet for a while before you say, “If you’re gonna call, I don’t want you to talk to the other girls like that. I don’t want you to sleep with them.”

Billy lets out a shaky breath and drags his hand up your stomach, watching your nipples pebble in anticipation.

“My piggy,” he says.

“Mean,” you respond. He faces the ceiling again, hand falling off you and resting on the messy sheets again.

You lay together, shoulders touching, and knees bent over the edge of the bed. Billy imagines watching himself. How does he look next to you. Probably like nothing. The Billy in the attic wouldn’t even be looking at himself – he knows he wouldn’t take his eyes off of you for even a second.

And he doesn’t, once he finally gets dressed and leaves without another word for his attic; he watches you all night, your smell on his fingers and his face, your flowery perfume on his clothes.

In the morning, he hears your housemate sluts laugh at you and ask who came over last night. You don’t say anything when the loud annoying one asks if it’s your new boyfriend. No, Billy wants to say, he’s something even better than a boyfriend. He’s your pillow, and you’re his pig.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ──── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

:D i had a lot of fun writing this !! hope you guys enjoy it

reblogs are greatly appreciated !!!!!

[tw1l1te]

The Final Promise₊˚✩⊹

Chapter 12

Linked Universe x reader

Warnings: Angst, tension??, angstangstangst

₊˚✩⊹

Four was worried. It’s been almost 5 days since the brawl at the Yiga clan hideout and you’ve barely spoken to anyone. At first, he brushed it off as being an aftershock, after all you were unconscious for the first 24-hours after the incident. But almost a week of not being your usual self? He was getting very worried.

You barely ate, picking at your food most of the time. Wild’s attempts at making your favorites didn’t help much either. You tossed and turned most nights, ending up sitting on your bedroll from the latest hours of the night, into the first rays of a new day. Your eyes were so so dull, you looked like a husk of yourself, as if someone tried to make a replica of you. As if someone could ever compare or replace you.

Four watched as you made your way over to him, sitting between him and Wind.

“If one of you asks me if I’m alright I’m going to kick your kneecaps in.”

“Got it.” Wind replies.

Four sighs, focusing back onto sharpening his blade. It was a small knife, the blade itself shorter than his forearm. It was his go-to when it came to small daggers, so he sharpened it every few days or so to keep it in pristine capability.

“Had enough of Cap and the Old man, huh?” Four mumbles, trying to look preoccupied. 

“Just tired of the contant looming over my shoulder and treating me like a damn vase.”

He nods. 

Wind groans lightly, “Ugh, tell me about it. They can’t see past me being a 12-year old, regardless if I fuckin’ killed Ganon or not.” He pulls out a small flask from his bag, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“Since when do you drink?”

“Since when do you care?”

You back off, clearly it's a touchy subject.

“Sorry, Y/n.”

“All good.”

The night continues, Wind eventually setting up his bedroll to go to sleep. He shuffles up to Sky, who was out about half an hour ago, already somehow in deep sleep. The group relocated to a stable on the outskirts of Hyrule Field, the plan of going to the Arbiter’s Grounds being delayed, yet again.

You sigh, “I don’t know what to do anymore, Four. I’m just so… lost.”

He puts his dagger down, sheathing it. He looks at you, your face illuminated by the low light produced by the embers.

“Is this about your journey?”

You nodded. You could feel the tears already starting to leak from your eyes.

“Is it ok if I touch you, Y/n?”

You nod again, hiccuping lightly.

He scoots right next to you, putting your arm around your form and rubbing your arm slowly. Placing his chin on your head, he lets you cuddle up to him, crying softly into his chest. He combed his fingers through your hair, placing a light kiss on your head.

“I’m right here, Y/n. I’m here. Shhh.” he cradles you, holding you slightly tighter whenever a particularly louder wave of cries comes out of you. Legend was still awake, as it was his turn for watch, a solemn look on his face while he looked at you.

“E-Everything’s changing and I-I’m being left in the dark-” you hiccup, sobbing harder into Four’s chest. Four’s hold tightens on you again.

“What do you mean, Y/n?”

You gasp, “I could’ve-”

You breathe in again, “Everyone is acting different towards me and I know its all m-my fault because I don’t know what I fucking want.”

“I don’t think anyone knows what they want, baby.”

“I thought I did. I wanted to go home but after some stuff that’s happened recently… I don’t know. Is that selfish of me?”

Four shakes his head, “Of course not. Changing your mind in the process is natural.”

“Then why do I feel like I’m splitting myself into two versions of myself? One that’s in Hyrule and one that’s in my era.”

Four sighs dejectedly, placing another kiss on your forehead.

“I don’t know, Y/n. I don’t know.”

~

A new dawn breaks over the horizon, shining onto the dew settled over Hyrule Field, the light fog dissipating. You fluttered your eyes open, your body scrunched up between Twilight and Hyrule, who were still in deep sleep. Feeling antsy, you climb over them and make your way to Wild, who was already awake, prepping breakfast.

He looked tired. You both were.

“Hey.” you rasped, your voice still hoarse from the crying of the evening before.

He looks at you, and gives you a small, tightlipped smile. He was swiping through his slate, gathering ingredients for breakfast. You placed your hand over his, causing him to halt in his actions. You both don’t move for a minute.

He slumps forward, face in his hands. Shakily, he says, “Fuck, I’m so sorry. If I didn’t leave you alone this could’ve all been prevented.”

You shake your head, “None of us knew, Wild. Riju didn’t know, Time didn’t. It’s not your fault, it was an accident.”

You bring him to lean against you, the slate being long forgotten about on the ground.

“I shouldn’t have wandered off, you literally told me not too. I’m partially at fault too.”

You chuckle, “And look where my stubborn self got me.” That seemed to make Wild crack a smile, making the tinge in your heart diminish. 

“You do have a hard time listening.” he said, you just give him a playful nudge.

“Har har, speak for yourself blondie.”

You both sit in comfortable silence, Wild going back to picking out ingredients on his slate. A thought pops into your head, “Wild, can I take a look at the mirror shard again? I wanna compare some of the hieroglyphics to the book Shad gave me.”

He tenses up slightly, but it quickly goes away, pulling out the shard from the slate. He carefully places the shard on your legs, making sure the sharp edge doesn’t cut your leg. Pulling out the Encyclopedia, you turn to the chapter about the Twili tribe.

You run your fingers along the markings on the mirror, lightly engraved into the mirror. Unsurprisingly, there were no visual differences from the shard in your lap and the mirror on the page, meaning this wasn’t just a replica but the real thing. Before you could continue reading, Twilight walks up behind you two, making you close the book and put the mirror away. You could read at a later time.

“Hey pup, Y/n.” Twilight mutters, voice raspy with sleep. Curse his bedroom voice making you weak.

You just waved, not trusting your voice at the moment. He sits next to you, you now sitting between him and Wild. You can feel his eyes on you, you glance at him asking “What?”

He still gazes at you, flickering his eyesight to Wild, then back to you.

“Oh, nothin’. You two just seem cozy.”

Wild snaps his head at his mentor, “Shut up, Twi. Don’t think I don’t notice you making goo-goo eyes over there.”

“Right. Speak for ya self, pup.” he remarked, snorting at Wild’s fumbling. You smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners.

A moment of silence passes, just the sound of the breeze blowing past your ears, causing stray hairs to stream over your face. The clouds seemed gray today, but not like an imposing storm was about to break, no, more peaceful. Serene.

“What are you guys going to do once this is all done and over with?” you ask, not really knowing where the question came from.

“Jeez I don’t know, probably go home and help around Hateno and the princess. I know she’s building a school for the village.” Wild says, looking out onto the terrain.

Twilight ponders for a moment. He didn’t really think about what he was going to do once this was over and once… you left. He never really thought you’d leave, especially now that it feels so soon and abrupt, he’s dreading his future.

“Don’t know, to be honest. Go back to Ordon, help Rusl and with the farm. Make sure the kingdom ain’t in shambles.” he lied. That was the last thing he wanted to do after all of this. He didn’t want to return after knowing what it's like not being alone anymore. He was left behind once, he didn’t want it again.

“You’re a terrible liar, Twi.”

“What? No I’m not-”

“Your ears twitch when you lie.”

“It’s true.” Wild muttered, resulting in a slap up the back of his head from Twi.

Twilight sighed. Rubbing the back of his head, he turned to you “Truth is… I didn’t think this would end. Don’t get me wrong, I love home and bein’ with everyone it’s just… after I’ve found people who know what it’s like to carry this burden, I don’t think I want anything else.”

You hated this feeling of guilt you were starting to feel about going home. You didn’t belong here, you weren’t meant to be here, unlike them. You needed to go home, forget everything, or at least regard it as a really good dream. 

But it’s not that simple, is it?

“I don’t want to leave you guys. I really don’t. I’ve become so attached to this life and all of you and I feel… heartbroken.” you sighed, laying on your back, blades of grass digging slightly into your exposed skin. 

“I mean… you don’t have to. I may be wrong saying that, but Hylia isn’t necessarily pulling you into a portal to go home.” Wild offers, choosing his words carefully.

You groan in frustration, “I know, I know. But its so much more difficult. Like, yeah I won’t have to deal with stupid shit like college classes or working my entire life for a mediocre job, but… my brother and my aunt are home and they need help. I have a few friends that are probably wondering where I’ve been and if I’m ok. I don’t want them to worry for me and my life, knowing that makes me feel so much worse, y’know?”

Both men nodded, relating to your thoughts on some level. Their adventures weren’t by choice and pulled them away from their friends and family without a warning. A burden that can’t be undone or altered.

“Either way, you didn’t have much of a choice. You were sucked in the portal as well, a quest destined for you, as well.” Hyrule spoke, quietly padding up to you three.

You snort, “Have you been listening this entrie time, Rulie?” 

“Eh, bits n’ pieces. The others are waking up anyways.”

You sit back up and decided to be productive for another 20-30 minutes, as Wild was just barely starting to cook breakfast. From what you could tell, it looked to be a sweeter meal this morning.

You looked back at the book, reading through the script. You were sitting against Twilight, a nice support for your back. You tried to not pay attention to his warm breath on your neck or the feeling of his eyes on you, but that was easier said than done. 

You zoned out everyone’s chatter, finally focusing on the task at hand. You took the mirror back out again and tore a spare piece of paper from an old journal a merchant gave you, using an old piece of charcoal to transfer the engravings of the mirror onto the paper so you could compare with less physical effort and so Wild could keep the shard in his Slate whenever you needed to reference the imagery again. The hieroglyphics transferred seamlessly, the paper seemingly identical to the mirror.

Looking back to the book, you filled in the missing shards and any images/lettering that faded or was carved off for reasons unknown. You then pulled away, looking at your work. Not too shabby.

But you noticed something peculiar. The mirror in the book had straight lines that overlapped the ornate designs, almost as if someone carved them in years after its initial creation. It wasn’t messy by any means, though it seemed that it wasn’t the initial design of the mirror. 

What if…?

“Four, I need a small blade really quick.” you said, not taking your eyes off of your drawing.

He was about to say something, but Legend beat him to it, handing you a small blade just slightly longer than your palm. Muttering a ‘thanks’, you start cutting the paper along the lines that you copied, making sure to keep your hand steady. Once you finished, you handed the blade back to Legend, then focused back onto the scraps of paper in front of you.

You started rearranging the pieces, aligning each piece with the associated shape or side. The pieces started forming a familiar shape, but something was different. Something you should’ve seen before. Something everyone should’ve seen.

“What is it, Y/n?”

You look up at Twilight.

“It’s not a triforce, Link. It’s a tetraforce.”

₊˚✩⊹

[triciaisonline]

I have a crazy theory, based on literally nothing - just something I think would be wild to do... IT INVOLVES KNOWLEDGE OF THE ALLEGED FUNKO LEAK (which we don't know the validity of yet) so do not read if you want to remain unaware of it

This is just a theory, and it's probably totally wrong - but I was just thinking of all these pieces and a way they could fit... this is also going to bounce all over the place as I type in a stream of consciousness.

Okay, so it's not fully formed yet - and it connects to another theory that has been circulating. This is just being written off the cuff, so it's not going to properly formulated but....

The alleged leak, shows two pop figures: Rio as Lady Death (just labeled as Death) and Teen as Wiccan. Now these things are not entirely shocking as people speculated these for a bit.

SEE HERE

Now, I had a mini theory that Teen was so obviously Wiccan that it would be really funny if the character took the Wiccan mantle but then wasn't Billy. I'm not saying I think that's what's going to happen - just that it would be a good twist because it toys with out expectations and would remind audiences of the twists with Pierto and Agatha in WandaVision. So, this sort of follows that - but in a different way.

My new clown theory is: Teen is Nicholas Scratch - but leaning into the villian background of the character, is trying to make Agatha think he's Billy. Wild to say, I know - but my crazy clown theory goes as follows:

I think there's more symbolism in the Agnes of Westview part than we believed. When "Agnes" is first seen in her house, she's having the end of a terrible day and is pissed off at the appearance of Rio. She goes to a bedroom that's meant to symbolize the loss of her son, and that's when Rio shows up at her door. It's in the scene that follows that Rio asks her: do you remember why you hate me?

I think this line got forgotten a bit in the fight scene that ensued - because it seemed to imply that Agatha had done Rio wrong at some point, which may be true - but perhaps it was in response to something Rio did first. Why would Agatha hate Rio if Agatha was the only one at fault? We see Agatha interacting with other witches while she's not the most friendly, there's something deep there with Rio.

I am positing that Rio is the one who caused Agatha to lose Nicholas - not Agatha. Now, I'm not saying this to remove Agatha's agency in her wrong doings - but that's something that could justify that hatred. I also think the timing of that initial scene makes me think we are meant to connect subconsciously the two events. I think Agatha's response is what somehow led her to getting on Rio's bad side and perhaps led to her gaining the Darkhold (or book of the dead, I'm forgetting atm if they are one and the same in this version of things). Which Agatha has tried to use to get her son back/get revenge... and as it's want to do, it took Agatha preexisting flaws and exacerbated them in its corruption as we saw with Wanda.

Now, how does this connect to my bold guess? Well, we assume that her son is dead - like a child sacrifice, as that's the comments others have made. But there's more than one way to suffer loss. Nicholas is an antagonist in the original comics, he even frames his mother at one point for horrific crimes. Is it possible that Nicholas was offered up not for death, but taken by whomever is at the center of this to and turned against her?

Teen's comments in the Agnes of Westview interrogation about the homelife she lives are very interesting and seemingly out of character for the rest of his portrayal as an Agatha fan boy. Teen has clearly done a lot of research, and the events of Westview are implied to be public knowledge. Could Teen be Nicholas - either of his own volition or working for someone else (put a pin in this part) - intentionally trying to trick her? The sigil, was it placed by himself or someone he's working with, in order to not be recognized?

"Okay, but how about the Wiccan pop figure leak?" --- okay, so the show is being so obvious about who Teen is possibly.... but the team has done this bait and switch before in WandaVision. Maybe it's obvious because it's meant to trick us and the characters? Maybe Teen is trying to invoke the idea of Wanda's kids - someone Agatha has complex history with, but also knew the kids of. The pop has Teen in very Wanda looking costume pieces. Could it be that it's meant to be on the nose on purpose?

What about Rio? Well, the leak depicts Rio as Lady Death. We have also seen the Tarot card promotional images that back this. Now, if Rio is a fake identity or becomes possessed by Death- no way of knowing. Lady Death often is an antagonistic figure as well, could this plan of Teen's be connected or guided by Rio/Lady Death? Perhaps in some sense of vengeance? It's implied Agatha has killed many in her long life - that could be a connection as well. Plus, it's a small note - but the trailers have that line from Rio focusing on how the bodies are piling up.

TAROT PROMO HERE

Lilia had the vision/hallucination that expressed a desire/need to Protect Agatha. Why? Because she's being played. Rio sets the Salem Seven on Agatha, which makes her desperate enough to go on the Road. The thing Teen wants to get her to go on. Rio also seemingly has interacted with Teen while Agatha was Agnes. Since so much of that was happening in Agatha's house - and she didn't react to them at all? That's strange, unless she already expected him to be there. The Salem Seven are Nicholas' kids in comics, turned against their Grandmother Agatha as additional antagonists. Now, they might not be his kids in this version, we don't know yet - but there might be a connection. "But the Seven attacked Nicholas?" Well, either it was an act or his sigil has him blinded to them as well. So, they could all be working on the same team to sell it.

Teen was also strong enough to break Wanda's spell. Something we've only seen Agatha do in this specific corner of the MCU. Similar magical power, perhaps because of powerful influence and/or being related to her.

Another note - how does Rio end up on the Road? She's not with the coven. If Rio is Lady Death - the death of Sharon Davis might be an opening for her to arrive...

This is all over the place, but I feel there's a possible link here. It's likely not, but it was fun to think about !!!

[fernsnailz]

Not sure if you’re familiar with Crash Bandicoot 4: It's About Time but I feel like Sonic Prime is the animated version of that game like the plot/style doesn’t really fit Sonic games while Crash both stays in that arcade jungle setting AND has the shattered time and space themes which they focus heavily on the recent game. The villains already are a bunch of scientists and I feel like either the team from Crash games or someone specific like Nicholas Cole just slapped Sonic Prime on the script for a Crash Netflix show and edited some characters

okay i understand the point you’re trying to make, but unfortunately you sent this ask to someone who works in animation and i need to set the record straight here: that is not how TV animation works

first, you’re right that Nicholas Kole worked on both Crash 4 and Sonic Prime! he’s also done work for the Spyro series, some Disney projects, and a bunch of other cool stuff. however, he specializes almost entirely in character design and concept art. this means that he helped develop specific parts of the visual look for Prime REALLY early on, such as designing some of the characters like Knuckles the Dread. however, that was likely the extent of his involvement in the show. character designers and concept artists normally do not edit the script, and often these artists draw their concepts before the script is even finished.

this is all stuff that happens VERY early in a show’s development, so Kole’s work on the show is probably multiple years old by now. and yeah, that jungle art DOES look a bit like the stuff that he did on Crash 4… because that’s just what Kole's art style looks like. he uses bright colors and varied shapes in a really distinct way on EVERY project he works on, which is probably why they hired him on Prime!

but even if that concept art was inspired by Crash, the jungle universe doesn’t even look like the concept art in the final version of the show! because it was concept art!! it was meant to be an exploration in styles, not a definitive look at the final product. this jungle below is a COMPLETELY different look than what was explored in the concept art. it sooooorta looks like the style of Crash 4, but it's FAR different from the initial concepts presented earlier.

(any person who modeled and painted this environment would ALSO have to be a dedicated Crash fan if they wanted to just turn Sonic Prime into Crash Prime)

and so far, this is completely ignoring the fact that the jungle concept art included in the ask probably isn't even Kole's. it looks very different from his style to me, and as far as i can find no artist has actually been credited for the leaked Prime concept art floating around. Kole has only mentioned his contributions to the character designs on Prime.

this is all a HUGE tanget from the actual argument you're trying to make in this ask, and i apologize for that - but my main point here is that this is a trend i see a lot in online fandoms, where people really like to place blame for issues in media onto one specific person and say "hey it's THIS guy's fault that this show is bad." what a lot of people don’t seem to understand is that these are collaborative art forms. there are so, so many people who worked on Prime, all the way from the first draft of the script to when it was being exported for Netflix, and a lot of these people probably don’t even show up in the credits! if there’s something you don’t like about this show, it’s unfair to single out a specific person to blame because TV shows are not made by one person. they come from a team of artists all working together to try and make something great, not one of the concept artists trying to turn the new sonic show into Crash 5. Nicholas Kole is a single character designer that worked on Prime. he is not solely responsible for an artstyle that you may dislike, because he is not the only person that developed the artstyle. there is no specific person to blame here.

regardless, i can’t really say much about your main point concerning the similarities between Crash 4 and Prime because i don't know as much about Crash series. my instinct is to just go “yeah of course they’re similar, multiverse stories with brightly colored rocks are the big trend in all franchises right now and they’re both 3D platformers from similar eras of gaming that have always featured cartoon talking animals fighting evil scientists, so of course they’ll seem alike.” but hey i mean what do i know

that's all, please know that this isn't meant to be an attack against you or anything! i'm just really used to seeing people blame individual artists and animators for stuff that isn't their fault, and i'm just. kinda tired of it. i will also spare you from my second ramble/disagreement about a sonic game or show in the crash style. because i think that would look fuckin INCREDIBLE

[repressionmd]

oooooooh my god dabble prompt #64

"What doesn't kill me still hurts." 922 words + hilson (i promise i tried to make this about thirteen but i am physically incapable apparently)

House was no stranger to painful medicine. He was no stranger to pain, but he was specifically no stranger to medicine that hurt. Short of chemotherapy, he'd tried out most of it. Admittedly, some of it was his fault - recovery after electric shocks was a bitch.

He had hated physio for his leg. Hated being pitied, hated the comforting consolations as he made no progress, only grew in anger as his leg seemed to burn more every day and his therapist smiled that same useless smile. He hated being forced to take fluids and lie around in bed. He hated the mandatory CBT after his 'suicide attempt'. He quit everything. He signed out AMA, he refused the better option. Even as a reasonable portion of his mind begged to weigh up the benefits, he didn't listen. He didn't quite know why.

Never mind that. He was trying to quit whatever treatment Wilson was suggesting at the moment - something he desperately did not want to go through with, and he noted with concern the rising panic in his stomach. Dissociating mid-conversation wasn't a good sign either.

"Come on, House, it could be good for you! There's studies, look. I sent them to you!"

Oh, right. Ice bath. "Nope." House turned around, intending to shut himself in his bedroom till Wilson left. If it also helped to mask his deep breath, well, that was just coincidence. He was feeling warm, restless. Scared. Warning bells rung out in his mind, hugely distracting and entirely useless. He didn't need to be told twice to know to get out of this.

"You've not even tried it. It could help!" Oh Wilson, if only you knew.

"Those studies are stupid. Besides, I don't want to. Warm water helps my leg, not ice. I'd think after all these years you'd know that."

Wilson had come up behind him, the traitor, grabbing his shoulder and turning him around, forcing House to meet his eyes. "I'm trying to help you, House, as your friend and as your doctor. It can't hurt to try. It won't kill you."

It won't kill me. House almost wanted to laugh. Yeah, it sure felt like it would have, when he was thrown out of the house, freezing to the bone. His dad had said it wouldn't kill him, and House had wished it would. Wished they would wake up to a cold, dead, Gregory House under the willow tree in the yard. Wished they would cry and scream and shout apologies to a boy who didn't hear them. Just once, he wanted to hurt them back.

"What doesn't kill me still hurts." Fuck. He sounded too genuine. The way his throat had caught on hurts would not be lost on Wilson either. Backtrack- too late. Wilson's face had fallen.

"Are you okay?"

Now House laughed. "Yeah, just peachy. Don't ever talk to me about ice baths again." He was shaking. Stumbling backwards, he brought his hands up to his face to hide the redness in his eyes he knew was building, and his leg buckled under the sudden weight as his cane was lifted up. One hand flew out to brace himself against the wall, cane clattering off to the side, but he kept his eyes closed so Wilson wouldn't see.

"Hey, House. Sorry. What's wrong?"

House had buried his face in his hands, brain short-circuiting as tears leaked out of his eyes. Fuck, this was embarrassing. "Lots."

"Does it hurt?"

"Yeah." Wilson meant his leg, but House meant everything.

"Do you… need anything?"

House took a deep, shuddering sigh. Looked up. Watched Wilson's emotions - worry, fear, shock, panic, guilt - clear as day on his face. "Just… promise me you won't talk about that again."

"Okay. I promise." Wilson knew trauma. Wilson had seen plenty, House knew. House knew that Wilson could see right through him, right now, and he had never felt so naked.

"Your leg will hurt more on the floor."

"Don't you think I don't know that, stupid?"

"Bed or couch?"

"You know, that's usually a very sexually charged question."

Wilson stared at him with a raised eyebrow, and House laughed, noting with more than a twinge of self-disgust at his sniffly state.

"Bed is fine."

Wilson helped him up, let House lean on him. Stood awkwardly at the threshold as House propped himself up on his bed and massaged his aching leg, till it was House's turn to raise his eyebrow. He patted the empty half of the bed.

"C'mere. I'll get bored like this."

"Want me to tell you a bedtime story, Greg?"

A flash of hurt. Another memory. Not so bad, and House mused with a vague sense of interest in his own inner workings, that maybe he could remake that memory.

It was many hours later that Wilson stopped talking, and House had ended up absent-mindedly combing through his hair. Wilson's hand was on his thigh, and it was well into the night.

They didn't talk about it. They didn't need to. Work shirts came off and old t-shirts were pulled out of cabinets, and if House ached for the way Wilson looked in House's clothes as he settled in to sleep, he didn't voice it. If House waited for Wilson's breathing to regulate before pulling him closer, he was sure he could explain it easy enough.

He thought though, and it was one of the clearest thoughts apart from his epiphanies he could remember having, that maybe, just maybe, he didn't want to.

[jsprnt]

Healing Hearts PT. 15 | Virgil Van Dijk

Would a fresh start bring you more than just a new job?

A/N: contains some smut! MDNI, or please skip the part after the marked red border.

C/W: smut, making out etc.

WC: 3.682

Summary: Y/N L/N is a very skilled and praised physiotherapist. A certain event pushing her for a fresh start, as a physiotherapist for Liverpool FC. One question always being in the back of her mind: Will she be able to let go of her past and allow herself to experience new things?

I try to calm down the thumping in my head, my head aching from panic as I stare at the gossip piece. I close my eyes, shutting off my phone and throwing my phone onto my bed. I stand up, pacing back and forth in front of the bed.

I was a fool for thinking our relationship wouldn't be caught this early. All of my effort, allthough looking back I probably worried more than I tried to hide our relationship- was in vain. I couldn't have obviously told Virgil I wanted to not even hold hands with him on the streets or not go on that one nice date. His own efforts to keep me out of the media and even the private dinner basically going up in flames.

I sigh out of frustration, gnawing on my lower lip as I try to think of what to do. It was a gossip site- not some relevant news site yet- they didn't have pictures yet- and no names yet. I grab my phone again, putting all of my social media on private already, preparing for the storm- or fucking tornado that could ruin either the upcoming days- if I was lucky in a couple weeks- of my life.

Thinking privatizing wasn't enough, I delete them all off of my phone. I couldn't be prepared enough. Especially not since what happened last time.

Who could've even leaked the fact that we were on a date? Could've been the employees, but from experience of seeing so many "known" people I'd doubt they'd honestly care. It could've been Theo- maybe he'd noticed me anyways- through my idiotic ways of trying to conceal my identity. I rack my brain- thinking of who it could be before giving up and throwing myself onto the King bed.

I lay there, my hands on my head as I try to reason with myself. I had a couple days or weeks to prepare, this could definitely break onto mainstream news when we'd both be back in Liverpool. I wince at the actual thought of having to face the club. I had to look them all in the face after it looked like I came there to get with one of their players?

Although, I knew most of the supporters wouldn't care or be negative about it. But the thought of my face being plastered everywhere again? What would they say about a girl who dated a billionaire heir and a footballer? Back to back. Was it my fault my destiny was designed this way? Would they say I was ‘lucky’ or that I orchestrated both of these relationships?

I had to face this eventually, but I didn’t want to do it now. There were definitely bigger problems in the world than some dating news- but why did have such an effect on me?

I decide to respond back to Priya's message shortly before closing my tabs. If I just ignored it for now- it wouldn't be there- it wouldn't even exist. If I just pretend to not see or know anything it wouldn’t happen and pass, like a breeze instead of impending doom.

A text message brings me out of my thoughts. A message from Virgil, letting me know he's leaving his own hotel. I smile to myself, remembering there was something to look out for. I couldn't wait to see him.

"Fuck- please-“ She mewls, their bodies pressed close against each other. Her nails clawing and digging into his back, the euphoric feeling of their high taking over both their senses.

Virgil had arrived at her hotel a while ago. It stared with a kiss from her, to a make out session turned intimacy.

Could you blame her? Seeing your partner doing what he's good at, winning for his team and country all while looking so fucking good.

Irresistible, was the right word to describe him.

He groans lowly at her pleas, his hand gripping onto the flesh of her hips, guiding her to his pace. His heart hammers in his chest, the feeling overwhelming, but still not getting enough of the feeling of her around him.

"So good for me baby." He murmurs, sweat glistening on his collar, dripping down his broad, muscular chest. She clenches around him at the praise, a moan leaving her swollen lips as her back arches.

"So needy for me, couldn't handle yourself when I played today, love?" He teases, gently pushing her back onto the bed as he chuckles deeply. She whines in protest, eyes closing, trying to move her hips faster, his veiny hand coming to rest on her stomach again.

"Eyes here baby." He says, his pace fastening with the move of her hips. His hand trails down her entrance, a digit circling her puffy bud.

Another moan leaves her lips, as she cries out in pleasure. Her eyebrows scrunching as sweat forms on her forehead. He's deep, deep enough for his member to be visible, the bulge on her stomach showing as he moves in and out of her in well paced thrusts.

"This what you wanted baby? Hm tell me, should I stop?" She clenches around him again, her nails clawing harder as she tries to blurt out coherent words.

"Fuck- don't stop- faster. Need more- please." She pants, feeling him twitch.

He does as she says, fastening his pace as he moans lowly at the feeling.

"Let go baby." He mumbles, his hand caressing the scar on her side tenderly.

She whines loudly, letting go as she reaches her climax. He groans, making sure she alright before letting go himself. Both of their exclaims of pleasure filling up the atmosphere. Loud panting filling the room, as their chests move up and down in sync.

He leans forward, his hand coming up to hold her tired head up. He places small kisses on the side of her face, mumbling sweet praises to her.

"Did so good baby. You're alright, breathe in for me baby." He murmurs, stroking her cheek tenderly.

He pulls out slowly, a soft sound leaving her lips at the loss of feeling. He presses a kiss on her lips, checking the clock as it read way past midnight.

He gets up, not before another whine leaving her lips, her hand grabbing his hand quickly.

"I'm here babygirl. I've got to clean you up hm?" He reassures her. Getting a warm towel to clean her up gently. Discarding the condom while at it.

"Want to take a shower love?" He asks, rubbing her naked shoulder. She nods, eyelids fluttering, his hands wrapping around her as he brings her into the walk-in shower. Keeping her steady and close as the hot water falls down their intertwined bodies. Soap foaming on their skin, forgetting all worries they had, especially a worried y/n.

"Is my mascara all over my face?" She asks, tired smile tugging on her lips as she looks at Virgil.

"It is, want me to clean it off?" He chuckles, reaching over to retrieve the facial cleanser from the shower niche.

I watch Virgil grab a change of clothes from the bag he had packed. The one he'd dropped on the floor when our kiss started getting a little too heated.

My eyes roam on his body, the white damp towel low on his hips as he walks over to the dresser. I bite on my fingernail nail as I fight back a squeal. Watching him open the drawer.

He grabs a pair of my pajamas I had organized into the dresser. He walks up to me again, seeing me snuggled in the robe he had wrapped me in earlier.

"It's cold." I say.

The temperature in Athens in October wasn’t as bad as Liverpool. Slightly warmer in the day, in contrast, the nights were definitely colder than the days. I had asked Virgil to turn on the heat earlier, hoping it would make the cold much more bearable.

"Here, let's get you in some clothes." He says, as I watch him hold up my gray ribbed pajamas.

“Where is your lotion?” He asks, running his hands on top of my robe, down my back, trying to warm me up.

“On the bathroom counter. It’s the pink tub.” I answer, watching him walk into the bathroom to retrieve it.

He walks back, unscrewing the lid and looking at me for a moment. I extend my leg out of my robe, moving my robe slightly. He grabs an amount of the hydrating cream, applying it in soft soothing circles on my knees and legs.

He unties my robe, applying the lotion on my arms elbows and chest. Softly massaging my back and shoulders.

“It’s like I’m the one who played a 90 minute match.” I chuckle, humming at the feeling of his hands on my back.

“You definitely handled way more.” He whispers, laughing as I give him a look.

“Right, now let’s get you dressed already.”

I allow him to dress me, making the minimal effort of raising my arms and legs.

“Let me put lotion on you?” I ask, grabbing the pink tub. He nods as I lather his skin up. Running my hands down his tattoos as I admire them.

I move so I can massage the cream into his back.

A gasp leaving my lips at the scratches on his back. “Did I do that?” I ask, feeling bad as I look at my nails. I had gotten them done back home, taking advantage of not having to treat any of the players, since I was on leave.

Short nails were a given with this job and I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I had long nails. That also being why I don’t remember scratching any of my bed partners- or at least this crazily.

“What? The scratches from your nails?” He asks unfazed, turning his head to the side.

“Yeah? Did it not hurt?” I ask, inspecting them closely.

“Was to busy with how pretty you looked under me to notice, love.” He whispers lowly and I slap his arm, feeling a little flustered.

I drop the tub of scented lotion, getting up to get a healing cream from the bathroom. Lathering the cream up the scratches with clean hands. Placing a kiss on his spine when done.

I snuggle against him after we both get dressed and finish our night routines. His arms wrapped around my body as I bury my head against his chest, basking into the warmth of our bodies and the silence of the room. The vanilla and coconut scented lotion creating an addicting scent on our skin.

"I'm so proud. You played really good today." I mumble, pulling away a little, tracing the tattoos on his arm gently with my finger.

"Oh yeah? I figured, maybe I should score the winning goal more often." He teases, placing a kiss on my hairline.

"Maybe you should?" I reply, nudging him, my eyes droopy as I fight the sleep that's creeping up to me.

“We’ll talk about it later, or you’ll start something you’ll have to finish hm? Sleep now, love. You look tired.”

"You better be eating properly there." My mom says, pulling me into the biggest hug she'd ever given me. Squeezing me to the point I couldn't breathe for a moment. She pulls away reluctantly, my dad also pulling me into an embrace. "You also should call more- we work but the phone is always next to us my daughter." He says, his hand on my shoulder.

I look at the both of them, a sudden feeling of sadness washing over me. I had already said my goodbyes to my friends, leaving me here in front of the airport, saying goodbye to my parents.

My grip on my suitcase tightens, as I try to hold back tears. There were many things I resented my parents for, but the look of sadness in their eyes made me want to break down and forget about all of that.

Maybe this was my karma for hiding things from them, the guilt gnawing at me piece my piece.

"Want me to come with you?" My dad asks, his hand already reaching for the handle of my suitcase.

"It's okay dad, it's not heavy. You don't have to. It’s raining, you guys should get back in the car." I usher, giving them a reassuring smile as I try to hide the shakiness in my voice.

“Call us when you land!” My dad says.

I kiss both of them one more time before turning around, dragging my suitcase behind me as I enter the airport. If I had stayed longer, they would manage to see the absolute buckets of tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

She checks in quickly and efficiently, knowing Virgil was in the private VIP lounge as she makes her way towards it. They had both spent the last few days with their own respective families, deciding they'd meet up at the airport.

She shoots him a quick message, the door to the lounge opening a few seconds later.

Her emotions were still on high after the farewell with her parents. She just, for some reason wanted to cry harder the longer they stood outside.

She could blame it on absolutely everything. From keeping secrets from her parents, to leaving them or mother natures lovely monthly cycle.

Virgil raises a brow at her instantly, the somber look on her face and the glossiness of her eyes noticeable to practically everyone from a distance.

She walks up to him, into the room. Immediately hugging him tightly, taking in his comforting and familiar scent.

"You okay?" He mumbles, running his hand up and down her back. Feeling her shake slightly, wet patches forming on his sweater from tears.

"It's alright, cry it out baby. You're okay." He mumbles, holding her tightly, giving her the pressure she needed, realizing something had to have triggered her emotions, too much for her to bottle up as he pats her back. Hoping he’d tell her eventually, when comfortable.

The Liverpool bench next to me cheers as Ryan scores the fourth goal against Toulouse. The chants in the stadium deafening as they all sing in celebration. The players were doing insanely well, especially after the Merseyside derby last week which they had also won. Creating a great new start after international break had ended.

I was on the pitch today, just like last week as Dr. Woods had decided to focus on Robbo's serious shoulder injury. We'd all been very shocked and concerned when we were notified. Deciding for Dr. Woods to focus on him for a while, since it was an injury requiring much attention and time.

Focused on the game, I sink further into my jacket, the weather had been progressively getting worse, the temperature dropping a couple degrees just in the past hour alone.

A sudden voice calls out to me from the bench behind me. I sit up, turning my head towards the voice. Already prepared for the "Could you hand me a bottle?" or the recently more common "Can I have a hot pack?" followed by the most creative methods to signal how cold the weather was. My favorite so far was the 'rubbing hands together'.

They would look like mischievous flies, making me chuckle as they looked at me confused.

Instead of some mischievous fly action, I'm completely blindsided by what it is, that I'm told.

"Take my scarf, it's cold and you don't have one." Szobo says, a charming smile on his face as he hovers the scarf around my neck.

I absentmindedly nod, as he ties the black scarf around my neck. I glance at Virgil, for a millisecond, his eyes drilling holes into Szobo's side profile. I look at the rest of the bench, some of them sneaking glances at me, I give them some confused looks back. Returning my gaze to Dom.

I thank him for the scarf, adjusting it a little and turning back around to watch the rest of the match. Still confused, but appreciative for the warm scarf. Trying to focus on the match again.

The match ends with a beautiful goal from Mo. Making the final score an amazing 5-1 for Liverpool. All of us standing up finally, clapping for everyone's efforts and hard work as I immediately make my way into the tunnel. The cheers and shouts in the stadium dwelling down slightly.

I greet the players with a high five, watching all of them pile into the dressing room before me and Dr. Davis go through the usual routine. My eyes catch Virgil looking slightly- irritated. His answers for Dr. Davis unusually short. I decide to not bother him with any of my own questions. I would ask about it later.

Thankfully, we finish quickly, no one having anything bothering them. I walk out of the dressing room. Allowing the guys to get changed, I walk into the medical room.

I unzip my jacket a bit, Dom's scarf still cozily on my neck and grab my bag before making it towards the door. Gasping a little as the door opens right as I reach over to grab the handle.

Virgil appearing and walking towards me as I take a step back.

"Hey?" I say, raising my brows in confusion. Was he injured? Something wrong? Did he want to leave together? Did he want to talk about why he looked irritated?

He grabs my arm, stopping me from moving. His hand moves to the small of my back, he leans forward, pressing his lips against mine breathlessly.

The bag in my hand dropping on the floor as I raise my hand to grip onto his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer. The warmth of his breath mixing with mine as his tongue runs down my bottom lip. My breath hitches, the surprise but delight of the situation catching up to me.

I pull away, looking up at him wide-eyed, my hands flattening on his chest.

"What was that for?"

"This." He says, his hands traveling up to my neck, fidgeting with the scarf and taking it off of my neck.

My expression turns smug, a smirk making it's way to my lips. I narrow my eyes, snatching the scarf out of his hands and cradling it close to me.

"What? You're jealous now? Over a scarf? It's your teammate's, captain.”

He rolls his eyes, avoiding eye contact as I laugh.

"Aw it's alright. Next time I'll just freeze to death. When I get offered a warm scarf by one of your teammates, I'll say 'Nope, my boyfriend is very jealous. I'll freeze instead.' That's good right?" I say, teasing him.

He doesn't make eye contact with me, as I watch become more flustered by the second. I drop the scarf, right on top of my bag.

"Hey, look at me. Come on admit it. You're jealous!" I say, grabbing the collar his shirt and making him lean forward. Deciding to finish what he started.

I move my hand towards his jaw as I press my own lips onto his, his lips parting as our tongues graze against each other. His hand moves to my zipper, zipping my jacket down. A sinful groan leaving his mouth as his hand slips up my shirt. His slightly cold hands making contact with my warm skin. I press my body closer to his, his touch and hold like a drug as I feel his hand caressing my skin.

The room is silent apart from our own presence, the cheering in the stadium had already died down. A soft whimper leaving my lips as his hands inch up my body, our lips still moving against each other.

The sudden noise of the door creaking make us jump away from each other in shock and fright.

"Doc could you give me some-" the man trails off.

Our eyes move to the door reluctantly, seeing a wide-eyed Curtis staring at us, his backpack snug on his shoulders.

An embarrassed gasp leaves my lips, I look at Virgil for a second. The both of us communicating with our eyes as we walk towards him.

"I knew it! Trent you owe me fifty pounds lad-" He shouts, very loudly.

They had a damn bet on us?

I grab the straps of his backpack, pulling him into the room. I shove my hand onto his mouth as Virgil grabs onto him by his shoulders. The door slamming behind us as we half tackle the Scouser.

He mumbles against my palm, as I try to make him shut up.

"Don't worry my hands are clean." I reassure, as I make out some of the words.

He mumbles some more, and I eye him sternly, frowning.

"Shhh! He will give you ten times that amount if you keep quiet about this." I whisper, pointing at Virgil.

Virgil looks back at me, confused expression on his face as I mouth a 'what?'

"Promise you won't start yelling?" I ask Curtis, hesitating to remove my hand when he nods.

I move my hand, his mouth immediately opening to assault us with a billion questions.

"When? How long? First time-" he whispers. I hang my head low from embarrassment, glancing at Virgil who looked like he was enjoying this for some reason. I nudge him with my elbow, making him answer the questions shortly.

I warn Virgil with my eyes when he gives too much information to Curtis. This guy could either keep it all to himself or explode like a ticking gossip bomb.

"And you won't tell anyone- right?" I ask, giving him a sickly sweet smile.

"He'll give you your money-"

"I never agreed to that." Virgil protests, looking at me.

"You'll be alright."

I mumble, focusing on Curtis.

"Promise?"

"Promise. Now can I get some of those bandages?"

This is going to be a difficult one.

[ajaxsprettyboy]

Guilty

No real plot to most of this absolutely not planned. We ball. Omg Lukas posting multiple times in the same six month span?? Insane. Also . NOT edited.

Perv trey. Mean dom riddle being talked about. Top riddle. Sub, male, bottom reader. Trey is a bit of an incel. Scent play. Hints at feminization. Also risky sex because why would you fuck in a dorm room .

Trey feels bad. He swears he does. But when he hears the slapping of skin and hushed moans of his best friend and housewarden along with the moans of his previous boyfriend, he can’t help but fist his cock wondering just how you’d feel around him.

He feels shameful for this but hearing you beg riddle to cum is more than enough for his cock to start straining against his tight pants. He knows he should just find some porn or one of the other heartslabyul students who want to sleep with him to satisfy his needs, he knows he could.

He could and he should. He just can’t help that the way you moan when riddle slaps you or spanks you has him leaking precum and soiling his pants. He feels guilty but not enough to stop him from leaning on the other wall and listening in to hear your hushed whimpers.

It’s not his fault! It’s just the way your hips sway as you walk over to riddle, sitting in his lap despite being much taller, bigger, and stronger than him. Okay well maybe him catching a glimpse of you pulling up a red thong didn’t help his predicament. And maybe when he watched you put lipgloss on with hickies and bruises littering your body, watching your figure through the crack in the doorway as you put on the rest of your uniform and fixed your hair wasn’t helping either.

He can’t help it, and he feels awful about it! He knows if he says anything riddle may just actually have his head. He knows riddle is possessive over you but oh how badly does he want you to come up to him and ask him if he’s willing to have a threesome. He wants to be respectful! But the idea of those gorgeous lips of yours wrapped his cock while riddle takes you from the back has him feverishly fucking jus hand.

He doesn’t mean to be a pervert, but seeing a red lace thong in riddles laundry was like a wet dream. He thought about stealing it, smelling it while he makes himself cum to the thought of you for the umpteenth time. He knew he should just wash it and put it back. When he eventually decided on just washing it he just had to get a sniff first.

He pressed the garment against his nose and pumped his cock. He moaned so softly while he did so. So absorbed in chasing his high, he didn’t notice how long he had been standing there. When he blew his load into the sink next to the washer, he couldn’t help but notice a small note stuck to the lip of the bin.

“Ri didn’t have much to wash so I put some of my stuff in here too! I hope you don’t mind, and thank you!

~ your favorite =)”

Oh fuck. Do you know? Wait, there’s a back?

“P.S. : I know you’ve been listening in on me and Ri, join us some time. He doesn’t mind as much because it’s you. (Don’t think you’ll be dominant and be ready to be degraded, because Ri’s a real mean dom and good at it ;) )

Oh god you know. And so does riddle… he’ll have to join tonight. It’s the least he can do for being a perv.