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sunni-stuff · 3 months ago

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Knight Johnny and Simon tasked with taking care of their kings beloved daughter. She's a gem and deserves nothing but the best in regards to security. A job only they were deemed worthy enough for. The kings daughter, a living treasure, required their constant vigilance.

Failure was not an option.

Your timidity startled them upon introduction. Their king's daughter - so meek? You mumbled, eyes averted, fidgeting with your silk gown.

They anticipated a bolder spirit, akin to your sister. She daily paraded knights Kyle and Price through the village, flaunting them like trophies. Her sharp tongue challenged them at every turn. Yet the duo knew how those knights truly managed their princess behind closed doors.

You were clearly the calmer choice out of the rest.

The first couple days, you gave them no strife, an obedient thing who likes to keep to herself and read in the library. A harmless gem. So why did the other servants regard you with such cautiousness.

"Do not let her fool you." A servant whispers hastily, their steps as quick as their warning.

Johnny scoffs, the warning falling on deaf ears. His princess reigns supreme, unblemished. You? A fragile creature in his eyes - wobbly legs, wide-eyed naivety. Soap erases concerns, leaving only blind adoration.

Across the room, Ghost's eyes narrow. Your fearful gaze meets his, then darts away as if scorched. He silently absorbs the warning, his intense stare lingering.

Innocence's wings concealed mysterious. What laid beneath your angelic facade?

Inside the castles keep, Simon shed his armor, his blunt words filling their shared chamber. "The princess doesn't sit well with the servants. We'd best tread lightly."

Johnny lounged on his bed, eyes closed, arms cradling his head. "These walls thrive on gossip," he retorted. "You, of all people, should know better than to indulge it."

Simon, stripped of his knights garb, turned to face Johnny, a twinge of mirth in his eyes. "Yer just saying that because she's not giving you work."

"A likely assumption."

"Likely? You end up nodding off in the archive with how quiet it is."

"Really now? And what about you getting all red eared when she offers you to sit for tea. You don't say anything then."

The pair continue their banter back and forth, their "friendship" one formed through bonds on the field and off.

Their banter could've lasted the entire night if it weren't for a gentle knock against the wooden door, causing them to halt.

Simon tensed. His first instinct was to reach for his sword, Johnny, however, already made to the entrance. No one ever visited them this late or even had the courtesy to knock. Cautiously, he opened the door, only to be met with you.

Candle in hand. You stood draped in purple silk. Your nightgown's trim trailed behind you. Johnny's eyes met yours briefly, taking in your sweet expression. His gaze then wandered downward, drawn to your décolletage - your breasts pushed up enticingly, spilling over like frothy ale in a brimming tankard.

"Jewel, what are you doing here?" Soap inquired, peeking his head out of the threshold to ensure no one else wandered the halls. "Come inside, it won't do good for your reputation if you're seen."

Johnny's gentle aura drew you near while Simon's barriers held you back. The candle flickered on a nearby table as you approached the stoic knights. Nightfall had brought silence, the servants long gone. Loneliness crept into your room, driving you to seek comfort in the oddest of places. "Might I rest here tonight?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper in the dim chamber.

Johnny crumbled right there. How could he say no to his princess? With a guiding hand pressed against your back tenderly, he leads you further inside. "Of course. You just have to leave before sunrise, my lady."

Clad only in underwear and an incongruous helmet, Simon looked absurd. "Johnny, this is bloody insane," he hissed. "If rumors spread, we're dead men walking. And her reputation? Shattered beyond repair."

Johnny tugs you onto his bed, smirking at Simon. "We'll be stealthy, jewel," he whispers, making room beside him. Your drowsy nod seals the deal. He drapes the covers over you both, triumph gleaming in his eyes. Who would turn down sleeping next to a princess?

Simon's fury simmered beneath the surface. Jealousy and caution warred within him, but he couldn't change the outcome. "Your choice, your consequences," he growled. Snuffing out candles, he retreated. His heavy steps and angry shuffles punctuated the air as he returned to bed, seething silently.

Simon's ears perked up late in the night. A wet sound broke the peace, followed by hushed whispers and moans. Until then, only slumbering knights, watchmen, and crickets disturbed the tranquil darkness. Now, an unsettling change rippled through the air.

"Shh, jewel," Johnny's voice cautioned.

"J-Johnny—I'm trying—"

Simon froze.

Johnny's whisper had pierced the silence and your muffled response - your voice, trembling, sent Simon's heart into a frenzy. His eyes fluttered open behind his helmet. Heart racing, he peered into the darkness, straining to glimpse the unfolding scene. Your stifled moans confirmed his suspicions, sending a shiver down his spine.

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A/N

Trying out a new writing style, I don't like the way I write usually bc it seems way too casual? So wordhippo and analyzing some of my favorite writers on here are like toast and butter.

#call of duty #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #sunshine sunni

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f1goat · 11 months ago

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more than friends ; lando norris + part five

In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.

masterlist - playlist

fem!y/n x lando norris

warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.

requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things

a/n: this is a rewritten story, you can find the explanation on my profile

part one / part two / part three / part four

You can’t stop staring at Lando. Everyone else around you is doing the exact same, you’re sure of it. He’s absolutely glowing right now. After his deleted lap time from the qualifications yesterday, he came back stronger then ever. It’s only seconds before they’ll hand him his deserved trophy for the second place from this race. A smile is plastered on your face while staring at Lando. Podiums look good on him. Insanely good.

Lando is literally glowing. Most people would blame it on the sweat, but you can’t even think about things like that right now. All logic has left your brain, you can only focus on Lando and how good he looks.

“You did so good!” You almost scream when Lando comes to you after his podium. He’s still wearing that glow from his podium. You can smell the scent of expensive champagne. What if you would kiss Lando right now, would you taste the champagne? If there weren’t this many people around you, you’d have loved to find that out. While Lando doesn’t talk at first, you continue to praise him and his race. Lando gives you a hug, something you gladly return.

“You know what this means, right babygirl?” Lando whispers in your ear while hugging you. You think back at the conversations between you two from earlier. Is he serious? This is what he’s thinking about right now? You wait for Lando to continue, he must mean something else. “I want you,” Lando speaks up again in a slow but firm way, “in my drivers room, so I can get my celebration right after debrief.”

You feel your cheeks heating up, they are red now for sure.

“Can you do that for me babygirl?” Lando continues to ask you. You can’t seem to get out any word right now, so you answer him with a nod. If you did know what to say, you’re sure the words would get lost on your tongue. Lando makes things even worse by pressing a small kiss against your forehead. You wish you could feel his lips on yours right now, but you’re fully aware of all the cameras around you. Tomorrow - or maybe even this afternoon already - you will see this fragment of your life all over social media.

You’re no stranger to social media, but whenever Lando and you make an appearance together somewhere you’re socials seem to fill up with hate.

Lando walks away from you. It’s clear what you need to do right now. He was quite obvious about his wishes and who are you to deny those for him? Without thinking about it further, you walk back towards the McLaren motorhome. It’s not hard to get into Lando his drivers room, probably because everyone around you knows who you are - and that if they say no, they’ll have to deal with an angry Lando, but you don’t know about that. Instead of making some conversation with the cheerful people who are still around, you walk straight towards Lando his drivers room.

When you enter his room, you start to feel a bit nervous. What does Lando expect from you? He made his wishes clear, yesterday and today. Apparently he wants to eat you out? The thought alone makes you feel even more nervous. Although you have no idea why. Lando is probably pretty good at it, so it will be more of a celebration for you then for him. Right? Maybe it’s the thought of Lando seeing everything of you that makes you nervous. He hasn’t seen your private parts before. What if they don’t look good enough? Normally Lando dates models, you bet they look a lot better then you.

You try to shake off the negative thoughts and focus on your Instagram. The story you posted a it earlier about Lando on his podium, is getting a lot of reactions. You scroll through every one of them. When you see a notification from Lando popping up, you almost drop your phone on the floor. Is he serious?

Lando: 5 minutes babe x

Lando: maybe you can already lose some clothes :))

Only the thought about you waiting for Lando in his drivers room in only your lingerie - or maybe even naked, makes you feel too many things at once. Your stomach tightens when you think about it, you don’t know if it’s because of excitement or nerves. Without realizing it, you’re already kicking off your sneakers. Your next movements are going on automatic pilot. At this moment you don’t think about all the people who can simply just walk in and see you like this. It doesn’t even come up in your mind right now. You can only focus on doing what Lando asked you and pleasing him. In a short period of time, the floor is covered in the clothes you were wearing before. The only thing left on your body is your lingerie. It’s a simple black set, nothing too exciting but it does look nice. You think about buying an orange set someday. Are you going to keep it on or not? You doubt. Eventually you decide to fuck it and take it off as well.

You thank the warm weather of today and of this country. The thought of Lando who can be here any second, is enough to make you shiver. It feels strange to wait for Lando naked, certainly while being in his drivers room. Then you realize that Lando has never seen you like this before. The cons are starting to weight up. You start to doubt yourself more and more. What if he doesn’t like the way you look?

When the door opens you’re extremely aware of your surroundings and your own bareness. Why does it only occur to you now that literally everyone can walk in here? You let out a relieved sound when you see that it’s Lando who opened the door. Lando has never closed a door faster. When he sees the way you’re waiting for him, he hurries himself inside the room and closes the door quickly behind himself. After that he’s even more hurried to come close to you.

Lando can’t tear his eyes away from you. He realizes that he’s staring, maybe he’s even making you uncomfortable with his staring, but he can’t stop. At this moment he doesn’t even think about looking away from you. He never saw you like this before. Everything that happened earlier between you two always happened with you in clothes. Of course, he had some information about your body from the summery looks and the bikinis. But still, this is mind-blowing to him. It’s even better then he imagined and he imagined it quite often… He lets his gaze go over every small detail of your body.

For now his focus is onto your breasts, he notices the way your nipples are sticking out. They resemble small pebbles in his mind. He wants nothing more then to shower them in kisses right now. He wants to feel them in his mouth until he feels them hardenen on his tongue, only to switch to the other one after that and experience it again. He lets his stare slide towards your most private parts. You’re sitting with your legs crossed over each other. He wants to see more of you. He wants to see everything from you.

It can’t be right that you’re the girl who has made the most impact on him. He doesn’t even need to think about all the other girls to know for sure you’re the most beautiful one. Seeing you naked has caused him to be rock hard in only seconds. His dick is throbbing painfully. He tries to remember himself that this is all about you - and not about him, but it’s hard to stop thinking about his own pleasure while feeling as turned on as now. You’re the most beautiful girl he has ever seen, with and without clothes, and it’s doing way too much to him right now.

You start to feel a bit uncomfortable with Lando his current silence. Was it a mistake to undress this far already? Maybe you should ask him. When you start to think about what to question him, Lando lets out a soft sound. It almost sound likes a moan. You look at him. Lando is still taking in your body. It looks like he’s looking at you full with adoration and lust, or are you making that up?

Lando walks closer to you. He takes his time to get close in front of you. When he’s finally standing in front of you, he is quick to lower himself so he’s on the same level as you. Then he eagerly puts his lips onto yours. He gives you a soft peck on your lips, before taking a seat next to you. Lando pulls you onto his lap. He makes sure you face him. At this moment he wants to see everything from your body the whole time.

He presses a kiss against your neck. “Fucking hell babygirl,” he finally mutters. He presses another kiss against your body, this time it’s to your collarbone. “I didn’t expect you to be naked already,” Lando continues, “such a beautiful surprise.” He presses his lips against your body again and presses multiple kisses against it. Slowly he’s getting closer to your breasts.

You’re already trembling under Lando his touch. He lets out a low groan. “Can I touch you babygirl?” He asks you. You’re quick to tell him yes. Lando takes one of your breasts into his hand, softly feeling around it. He looks at you to focus on your facial expressions, hopefully to find out what you like - and more importantly, what not. After softly feeling around your tit, he takes it in his hand and kneads it softly.

“Such a good girl,” Lando tells you.

Your stomach tightens. Your cheeks redden once again. Such small words, but their impact is massive.

“Such a beautiful, good girl,” Lando whispers softly.

Lando his attention switches to your tits. Your glad about it, because it’s probably embarrassing how red your cheeks are right now. Lando lowers his face to get closer to your tits. He’s still kneading one of them. You almost jump up when you feel his lips against your other boob. He presses soft kisses against it before he starts to suck on the soft skin. You quietly follow his movements with your eyes, not looking away for the tiniest bit. It doesn’t take Lando long before pressing a kiss against your hardened nipple. After that he takes your nipple inside his mouth. You feel him sucking on it softly.

When Lando moves back, you let out a soft whimper. Lando changes his movements. He moves his hand away from your breast, slowly letting it slide lower on your body. In the mean time he lets his mouth hoover over your other boob. It doesn’t take long before he takes your nipple in his mouth. Softly sucking it in again. It surprises you when you feel your pussy clenching. It amazes you when you notice that you feel yourself getting more wet. Lando his mouth is doing all kind of things to you, you can’t complain about one tiny part of it.

He removes his lips from your breast again. His hands are moving downwards. Quickly getting closer to your private parts. It annoys you that he doesn’t touch you where you need him. He keeps his hand barely above your pussy. You don’t even realize it when you let out a soft whine.

Lando on the other hand is quick to notice the sound. “What’s wrong babygirl?” He asks you. You notice the small smirk that has appeared on his face. It makes you realize that he’s teasing you like this on purpose. Fucking tease. You want to tell him, but every word that leaves your mouth is begging Lando to do something about the way you’re feeling.

“I need you,” you softly whimper.

Lando lets out a low groan. Animalistic even. The whiny undertone in your voice makes him lose his mind. He moves himself lower, making sure to take a good position in front of you. You’re still sitting on the couch, Lando is onto his knees in front of you. He takes your legs into his hands, spreading them slowly for himself.

You look at Lando, but he doesn’t look back. All his attention is on your pussy right now. Before you can feel uncomfortable, awkward or nervous about it - Lando starts to shower you with compliments about it.

“Such a pretty pussy,” He tells you with a low voice. Carefully he slides his hand around it. He makes sure that he isn’t already touching your clit or entrance. Lando knows he’s teasing you, maybe too much even, but he can’t stop himself. He loves the soft combination from whimpers, whines and moans that are coming from your lips. It’s his celebration after all, right? When he takes a look at you, he’s quick to notice the frustrated look on your face. It makes him realize how much you need him right now. A feeling that makes him feel unbelievable good about himself. He wants you to never need anyone else like this. If it’s up to him, he’s the one who you need like this for the rest of your life.

He slides his fingers on your lips. Carefully spreading them a bit with his hands. Giving himself more to look at.

“So beautiful,” he continues to tell you.

He lets his finger slides through your slit. It surprises him how wet you’re already are. His finger is quickly coated in your slick.

“So wet already,” he murmurs to you.

He presses a soft kiss against the inside of your thigh.

“Is that all for me babygirl?” He asks you.

“Yes,” you’re quick to tell him.

“Who’s the one who made you this wet?” Lando asks you. He knows the answer already, but he wants nothing more then to hear you say it. He needs to hear that he’s the one who caused this.

“You Lan,” you softly confess, “it’s all because of you.”

Lando can’t withhold a soft moan after hearing your answer. He presses a few more kisses against your thighs. Slowly he moves closer to your pussy, but makes sure that he isn’t coming closer then your lips. You let out a frustrated whine.

“I need more,” you confess, “Please Lan.”

Lando presses a soft kiss against your clit this time.

“More,” you let out.

Lando grins. He softly slides his finger over your clit a couple times, but makes sure it’s still not enough for you. He presses more kisses against your inner thighs. A thought pops up in his head, what if he made you beg for it? Fuck that would be hot. His dick is getting even harder while thinking about it.

“What do you want baby?” Lando asks you.

He makes sure his finger is dangerously close to your clit right now. Not onto it, but really close.

“You,” you whimper.

“No, no,” Lando tuts, “What do you want me to do?”

Lando his question makes you silent for a bit. He moves his finger even closer to your clit. Softly he touches it. It makes you tremble under his touch. According to you, it’s absolutely unfair what he’s doing to you. How can he makes you feel like this with barely touching you? For a few seconds you wonder if anyone else can ever makes you feel like this. You highly doubt it.

“If you don’t tell me baby, I can’t help you,” Lando teases you.

“Fucking tease,” you groan.

“Tell me babygirl,” Lando continues to tease.

You let out a soft trail of whimpers. “Please Lan,” you softly say. He just shakes his head. “Can you please do something about it?” You continue. Lando shakes his head again. “Fuck Lando,” you groan, “just lick me please.” That seems to work. Lando doesn’t reply verbally, he moves his head as close as he can towards your pussy.

He finally starts to do what you asked him. You remind yourself to tell him what you want sooner the next time - knowing Lando, he will be acting like this a whole lot more. Lando slowly licks around your vagina. He makes sure to lick every part of it before turning his attention to his clit. Still teasing you. When he finally reaches your clit, he presses a soft kiss against it. When you want to let out another beg - for Lando to finally do something, he already starts to place soft, small licks onto it. He’s making sure that he’s not going to fast, but also not to slow. He wants to do this right. He wants you to enjoy this just as much as he is doing right now. When you let out multiple moans, Lando increases his pace a bit.

In the mean time he slides his finger around your slit. He slowly brings his finger to your entrance, but doesn’t push it inside. Yet. Lando knows really well how much he’s teasing you, but he can’t help himself. He loves the way you response to him and the soft begs that are leaving your lips. All because of him. He has fallen in love with the desperate voice you use when you beg him for something. Lando wants to know for sure that he’s the one who makes you feel like this and that you need him.

You buck your hips. Hopefully Lando gets the hint and finally puts his finger inside. Maybe even more then one now that you think about it. Lando doesn’t respond to your earlier movement. You open your eyes, which you had closes the whole time. To your surprise Lando is already looking at you. Staring even. Before you speak up, you admire the way he looks between your legs. You move your hands to his curls, softly tugging on them.

Lando still makes soft licks onto your clitoris. It’s making you feel all kind of things. Sometimes he switches a bit and licks around your whole slit. But the things he’s doing to your clit right now, those are the best. Even though you still want more. Greedy, isn’t it?

“Lan,” you speak up with a soft voice. He raises his eyebrow at you, waiting for you to continue. “I need more,” you tell him. Your cheeks redden from embarrassment when you tell him that. Lando removes his mouth from you and takes a good look at you. His fingers replace the movements his tongue made earlier. It still feels good, but not as good as his tongue.

“More?” He asks you.

“Please,” you beg.

“Tell me what you want babygirl,” Lando states. He increases his pace with his finger. He likes looking at you while you look like this. You’re shaking underneath his touch. Moans are trembling over your lips like they’re your new language. Lando wishes he could save this memory so he could look back at it and enjoy every small detail again and again. His cock is throbbing even more painfully then before.

“How longer you take, how longer you will miss my tongue onto your pussy,” Lando tells you. He hears a soft whine leaving your lips.

“I need your fingers,” you eventually confess.

Lando still doesn’t give you what you want. “Ask me,” he tells you sternly.

“Can you finger me?” You ask Lando softly with red cheeks. Before he can react to you, you’re already add another few words. “Please Lan?”

His boner almost explodes when he hears to soft ‘please Lan’ coming from your lips. He doesn’t say anything anymore. He’s quick to move his lips back to your clit and to move his fingers to your entrance again. This time he licks your clit even faster. He hear hard moans coming from you. Is it bad that he’s already getting addicted to the sound of your moans? He wants to be the only one who ever hears these sounds coming from your lips. He never wants to share this sound with anyone else.

Lando pushes one of his fingers softly inside you. He feels your walls clenching around his finger. Easily he pushes in and outside of you. It doesn’t take him long before adding another finger. He increases his pace and really starts to finger fuck you. In the mean time he focuses on eating you out. He softly sucks on your clit. It makes you almost scream from pleasure.

“Fuck Lan,” you moan when he sucks even harder on your clit.

He doesn’t response verbally, but he keeps increasing his pace. He even adds a third finger. Your wells are starting to clench around his fingers more and more. Patiently he waits for you to come. He feels your clitoris starting to throb inside his mouth. You feel your stomach tighten. Moans keep coming out of your mouth. You can’t stop yourself.

“I’m close,” you tell Lando. He reacts by sucking even harder. He moves his fingers even faster inside you. He gives all his attention to the soft, spongy spot inside you. You let out another hard moan.

“Can I come?” You suddenly ask him.

Lando feels overwhelmed by your sudden question. Fuck. It’s insane how it feels that you’re asking him for permission to come. You’ll literally be the death of him. While Lando doesn’t know how to respond at first, you are having more trouble with holding back your orgasm. The waves of pleasure are already hitting over you in a fast pace. You’re really close.

“Lan?” You quickly ask, hoping that he will respond to your question.

He removes his lips from your clit for a couple seconds. Not any longer then necessary. “Please do babygirl,” he tells you before taking your clit back in his mouth again. Softly sucking it before licking it with a fast pace. He focuses his gaze on your face. He can’t look away from you. When your orgasm hits you, Lando notices everything about it. He sees the way you close your eyes when the first waves hit you. He notices the way your lips are partly open, only to let out a couple soft moans. When you press your legs a bit more together, Lando stops his movements and pulls back. He doesn’t want to overstimulate you. At least, not today. It would be a nice thing to do in the future.

Lando waits for you to say something. In the mean time he sucks your wetness off his own fingers. He takes place next to you on the couch. You quickly let your body rest against him.

“Fuck,” you mutter, “that was really good.”

Lando shows you a small grin. “Glad you liked it,” he says. His cock is still throbbing inside of his race suit. “You taste better then the champagne,” he tells you. You let out a laugh. Without thinking about it you press a kiss against Lando his lips, he’s quick to turn it into more. When his tongue slides into your mouth, you taste the faint tase of your own slit on his tongue combined with the bitter taste of champagne.

Then you notice Lando’s bulge in his race suit. Did eating you out make him this hard? You let your hand rest on his boner.

“Maybe I can do something for you as well,” you tell Lando with a soft voice.

“I wish,” he grunts almost annoyed, “but we have a dinner and a party to get ready for.”

“Maybe later tonight?” You suggest.

“I like the way your thinking babygirl,” Lando softly laughs.

“You still deserve a celebration as well,” you tell Lando.

“Believe me babygirl, this was a whole celebration,” he confesses, “Next time I don’t even want to stop after your first orgasm.”

“You think I can cum more then once?” You ask confused.

“Add a lesson about overstimulation to your teaching plan babe,” Lando tells you jokingly, but none of his words are a joke. He wants to spend the whole evening between your legs and pull every orgasm out of you that you have. Leaving not even one of them for anyone else.

“Deal,” you react.

Lando can only smile after that. How did this even happen to him? It feels like he’s living his dream, but when he thinks about the fact that you’re still ‘just friends’ they shatter apart.

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#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris imagine #ln4 #formula one #f1 #lando norris imagines #lando norris smut

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rooksamoris · 8 months ago

Note

Woke up, first thing I did was see your response to my request! I love it! You have done well in spreading the Jamil L/N agenda.

Here is my next request: a confession/proposal scenario.

Reader confesses, Jamil tries rejecting them but reader knows him too well and asks for the real reason. Cue his usual "you deserve better than a servant" & "I don't want to trap you in a life of servanthood". Reader, completely unfazed, just goes "then just marry into my family". Cue blushy Jamil cause he somehow got a confession and a proposal all at once. Before he can overthink Kalim just busts through the door going "YES! I'LL PAY FOR IT!" (he was eavesdropping).

💞 — in which jamil rejects you and then rethinks it.

💞 — jamil viper x reader

💞 — warnings: hurt/comfort vibes, metaphor of burning skin on sand used

💞 — around 750 words. im obsessed with jamil taking his lover's last name to escape servitude. so sorry this took sooooo long!! im getting to requests and asks asap <3

“No.” You did not even get the chance to complete your confession before he suddenly hit you with a rejection. A cold rejection at that. You recoiled, pulling your offering with you, and your brows furrowed. “You didn’t even let me fin—” Jamil sighed, seeming exasperated with you, “It’s so obvious what you’re about to say,” he tells you, before turning around, his long dark hair following him and swaying. To be fair, you were quite obvious. He could see exactly what you were about to do. He had noticed the way you had been looking at him lately. If you were not talking to him, you were gazing at him longingly somewhere in the corner instead of paying attention to what Grim or Ace was saying. You made it even more obvious with how you showed up, bearing gifts in your hands and constantly touching up your appearance. If he were anyone else, he would have reassured you that you looked amazing instead of just rejecting you before you could say a word. Before he could walk away, you grabbed his wrist. Perhaps you were suddenly possessed with the confidence of the Red Queen, or maybe you were just stupid, but you did it and now had to deal with it, “At least tell me why,” you pleaded.

His heart broke a little when he heard the tremble of your voice. You bit the inside of your lip to keep anything else from escaping. This was the last thing you wanted to happen. Your fingers slipped away from his wrist and you averted your gaze in embarrassment. “I’d never have any time for you,” he said, simply, keeping his head turned away from you, “I’m very busy taking care of Kalim as is… it would be dhulm (cruel) to do that to you,” he added. That was the last thing he wanted to say. He knew this confession was coming for a while and prepared himself to reject you from the first time he felt your lingering gaze. What he wanted to say was that he wanted you to. Jamil would have used his bare hands to dig through layers of scalding desert sands for just a sip of what your love could have been like. He would have worn the burn scars like a trophy—a testament to his love and devotion. Instead, he said no. Before you could speak, he held a hand up to silence you, “I can’t give you the life that you want to live. You’d be bound to servitude for just being mine.” He loved the thought of that. Being able to call you his was a dream, and it would stay a dream. When his blood was spilled, it did not hold even a bit of value, and he could not bind you to him and make your blood as worthless as his. There would be no ceremonies when he died, no pretty tombstones, and few people who would care enough to attend. He did not have it in him to make that your fate as well. You stared at him in disbelief, your nose scrunching up slightly as you grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer. It was a forceful tug, causing him to stumble forward a bit, and you took your chance, pressing your forehead to his. Those eyes of yours were piercing and determined. “Marry into my family. Take my last name, and Viper servitude would be a thing of the past.” His hands were suddenly torn out of the scalding sands which burned them. He stared at you in pure shock, a blush rising from his neck, to his ears and finally painting his pretty brown cheeks. His brows were knitted—the words dared not to spill out of his lips. “H–Huh… wait—you can’t be—” Before he could speak, Kalim barged in with a wide grin on his lips, throwing himself against you and Jamil and tugging you both close in a hug, “I’ll pay for it! It will be the most grand occasion! We’ll even dress up the camels—” As Kalim rambled, Jamil looked over at your pretty, smiling face. You were laughing at Kalim’s words and planning the occasion along with him, as if you would be married tomorrow and not years from now. His gaze softened, and when your eyes met his, you knew he accepted your confession. Finally, he could let someone mend the burns the sand left on his palms.

#💖 — amoris writes #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #jamil viper #twisted wonderland x reader #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #twst headcanons

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skipper1331 · 10 months ago

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Secret (2) // Alexia Putellas

She didn‘t try to follow you.

She didn‘t try to text or call you.

She didn‘t try to fight for you.

She let you.

She let you walk through that door.

She let you go.

They say that you only really appreciate something when it is no longer there - she understood that now. It never occurred to her how terrible it must have been for you to be her "secret," even if she never wanted it that way.

Plagued by the fear of what others would think or what would happen, she dreamed of a love without worries and anxiety; in her eyes, this love only happened behind closed doors. She didn't realize how bad it actually was for you, even though she knew exactly that you wanted a typical romance book love story. She didn't deserve you and even less deserved that you had put up with her in secret for so long.

You, on the other hand, were caught up in your anger. You had put up with this secrecy for over a year, but a limit had been crossed - your heart ached just in her presence.

She had managed to nestle herself in your heart with her charming smile, her sparkling eyes and her elegant but captivating nature. She was Alexia Putellas, of course she had done it. She could do anything when she set her mind to. She had won the Ballon D‘or twice, the World Cup and dozens of other trophies and titles - only the title of calling you her wife, she hadn't managed.

In the nights where she couldn‘t sleep, she had dreamed of marrying you - you were different. Any feelings she knew before no longer existed. It was only you.

And you were no longer hers.

After your break up with the Catalonian, your motivation started to rise again as the weight you had been carrying in your heart and on your shoulders wasn‘t there anymore. You went out with your friends, explored the city a bit more and focused on yourself. You deserved to be happy and you knew that. You treated yourself with new shoes (shoes you had been eyeing for awhile) and finally an own Netflix account.

In training, you went to your absolute limits, playing wonderfully and yet having fun - the love to the sport filled your veins again.

You were glowing - the new look suited you.

But when you were at home, it was different. Two people met at the doorstep. Person 1 who glowed and person 2 who sulked. As soon as the threshold was crossed, personality 2 took over your body, mind and soul. Your broken heart showed itself. You hadn't managed to remove the second toothbrush in your bathroom or empty Alexia’s drawer yet. Her clothes were yours too, you wore them as soon as personality 2 needed the comfort which was needed constantly.

You cried.

You screamed into your pillow.

You ate ice cream, chocolate, anything.

Watched sad shows and movies.

And cried more.

Nobody seemed to notice your switch of personality - who should?

No one knew that you and Alexia used to be a couple..

No one knew that your heart was broken..

I‘m capable of handling that on my own.

I‘m an independent woman.

..except one person: Alba.

unknown

hey, it‘s Alba.

Ale told me what happened.

If you need someone to talk to (a friend), feel free to message me:)

You appreciated that she sent you a message, her intention probably kindhearted but she was Alexia‘s sister after all.

You replied with 'thank you' and sort of an appreciation.

Time would heal your wounds. Hopefully.

In the nexts weeks, you focused on the upcoming uwcl matches and getting enough recovery after your training sessions.

You like to think that you didn‘t even look at Alexia but you knew better than that. She‘s Alexia and breathtaking, you could not not look at her.

But you tried your hardest not to give in when she looked at you, looking at you with those sad doe eyes. Sometimes it seemed like she wanted to approach you or even say something yet she never did, she stayed silent.

Was it wrong to hope for her approach? That she would just kiss you in the middle of the pitch?

Maybe it was wrong but you couldn’t help it. You loved her and you knew she loved you too. And love, no matter how much you want it sometimes, doesn't just disappear. It always leaves its mark.

Added to that, Alexia wasn‘t just anybody - she was the first person with whom you truly felt the butterflies and every cheesy book describing feeling.

She could have been your greatest love story - the love story you always wished for.

"Good luck" Alexia said, her hand brushing against yours as she walked past you.

She smiled a bit, immediately looking away, joining Aitana and Keira.

"Good luck" you whispered back, surprised that she had spoken to you, nonetheless kindly accepting that she did.

The first leg against Chelsea went alright, Aitana opened the score as you made it 2-0, 5 minutes before the ref blew her whistle.

You shook hands with each opponent and talking to your friends for a bit.

"Oh please, I’m your biggest fan, swap your jersey with me" the dramatic voice of Niamh Charles shrilled through the conversation you were having with Guro and Erin. You laughed, Niamh‘s arm around your shoulder, "oh please, please" she fake cried, the girl nothing but laughter in her voice.

"Aren‘t the dozens of my jersey enough?" you joined, laughing.

It was an unspoken rule whenever Niamh and you faced each other to swap jerseys as the two of you had met in the u-teams, becoming friends in an instant and being close friends ever since.

"Nah, babe, you know I can never get enough of you" she rolled her eyes, pressing a sloppy kiss to cheek.

Disgusted, you wiped it off and shoved her away.

Alexia watched the scene in front of her with fire in her eyes, oh how she hated Niamh - the green eyed monster talking.

"Jealous?" the soft voice of Ingrid pulled her back to reality.

"¿Que? No! I’m not jealous" Alexia’s accent was thick, her voice raspy and mind completely somewhere else.

"You should ask her out, I think she likes you" the Norse proposed, tapping the Catalonians shoulder as she walked to Frido, leaving the captain alone.

Ale had always suspected that Fridolina and Ingrid knew about the two of you because they were your best friends, but that wasn't the case. Alexia realized that only now since Ingrid had suggested asking you out - you had always been honest and respectful with her wishes - accepting them, even though they broke your heart day by day.

No one knew that you were more than just teammates.

They were clueless.

You were amazing.

And she was stupid - stupid to think that you would tell anyone when you hadn't even told your best friends and stupid for letting you go.

The second leg ended up in 2-1, 4-1 on average which meant that Barcelona would play in the Champions League final.

You were thrilled when the ref blew his whistle, so happy about the fact that you had the chance to win the trophy.

On the other hand, you felt bad for the Chelsea players, they had given everything as they tried their best to win. Unfortunately for them, it wasn‘t enough. You approached Niamh who had tears in her eyes, pulling her in a hug. You comforted her the best you could but loosing an important match would sting for awhile, no matter how much you praised the defender for her game.

"You know, I will burn your jersey at home" the defender chuckled, nonetheless taking her jersey off while you did the same - swap.

"That‘s only fair" you grinned, wearing now the blue shirt.

Once again, Alexia glared at Niamh, hating the fact that you were wearing 'Charles 21' on the back instead of 'Alexia 11' or 'Putellas and your number' but she knew it was her own fault.

If she had just listened to you or introduced you as her girlfriend with such pride right from the start then she wouldn't be in the situation of a broken heart and jealousy.

She loved you and was forever sorry for hiding and neglecting you.

You deserved better than that, way better.

Winning the champions league felt euphoric.

The final match had been intense, both sides fighting for goals as the ref showed many yellows cards.

But Barcelona did it, they had done the unthinkable - beating Lyon and taking their revenge.

It didn‘t matter that the score was only 1-0. That one goal meant more than anything to everybody of the team. You felt so much pride and joy, the stadium chanting while you received your medals and lifting the trophy.

You wanted to cherish this moment forever.

"I‘m proud of you" la reina stated as she stood next to you. You didn’t even notice that she had approached you.

"Thank you, Ale, it means a lot" you smiled at the midfielder. Your smile was so genuine and wide, your eyes sparkly and shiny - you looked so beautiful, in Alexia’s eyes.

She couldn’t help but kiss your forehead.

You let her.

Her lips lingered for a moment, pulling back with rosy cheeks before she walked to her mother and sister who were waiting in the stands.

Your eyes followed the Catalonian, her mother hugging her tightly while Alba looked in the direction Ale came from - she saw you and waved.

Back in Barcelona, the team + family/ friends went out to celebrate. Drinks were getting drowned, songs were being yelled and dance moves were being showed. The vibe and mood was amazing, everybody letting loose after the last few intense weeks.

You couldn’t remember how many drinks you‘ve had but it was a good amount - each of them delicious.

Making your way over to the bar, you ordered yet another drink. You wouldn’t say you were drunk per se but you also weren’t sober anymore.

Nobody was, or cared.

You won the champions league, you were allowed to party.

While you waited for your drink, a familiar unfamiliar voice talked to you, "hola"

you turned to the side, seeing the younger Putellas standing next to you.

"hi" you replied.

"Congratulations! Your goal was amazing" she beamed while you smiled and mumbled a thanks. "my sister can be an ass, you know? Oh yeah, you do." she giggled at her own joke - she clearly wasn‘t sober either, "but she loves you. She‘s been sulking for weeks."

You tried to listen the best you could, questioning if you would remember the conversation in the morning.

"She even told mamá about you and how she fucked things up"

You gasped, "no way! She talked about me? I‘m so shocked"

The sister laughed, playfully hitting your chest as you joined her laughter - eyes watching the two of you.

"You should make her jealous"

"Yeah, sure" you replied, rolling your eyes, "as if Ale‘s jealous"

"More than you think. She doesn’t like your friend Charles, for example. 'she should wear my name' blah blah blah" Alba explained, your mind spinning for several reasons.

"How should I make her jealous then?"

"Easy. Follow me" the girl grabbed your arm, pulling you on the dance floor, "hey! my drink" you grumbled, the Putellas sister ignoring you.

She turned around, looping her arms around your waist as yours went around her neck. You followed Alba‘s lead, Shakira blasting through the speakers. Looking around, you searched for Alexia. It didn‘t take long to find those pretty eyes who looked nothing but angry. Her jaw was clenched, hands balled into fists as she shifted uncomfortably around.

She was not enjoying the show.

"Bet she‘ll be here in 3…" Alba leaned in, "2…." as you did the same, "1…"

Strong hands on your hips pulled you away, a protective arm smacking around your waist, Alexia glaring at her sister - so much fire in her eyes, "you‘re allowed to look but do not touch what’s mine" she growled, "now leave" her voice was stern and firm. Your ex girlfriend stood now in front of you, looking at you, checking you out while Alba walked away, winking at you.

"You look nice" the girl smiled charmingly, the green eyed monster completely gone.

"What was that?!"

"I said you looked-"

"No. Do not touch what’s mine?!" you mocked, your heart secretly racing at her possessiveness.

"I won‘t let her kiss you!" her voice was raised, jealousy pumping through her veins again, "I‘m the only one who will do so" the thought of you ever touching, kissing, loving someone else made Alexia furios.

She loved you.

"Do you understand me?"

The alcohol in Ale‘s system made her bold, confident and possessive - she didn‘t care who was watching or listening. All she cared about was you.

You had never seen her like that before - openly jealous, with her hands on your hips and chests touching in public - it was hot. She was hot.

"Yes, I do" you replied, somehow starstruck.

"Good girl"

You died on the spot.

Was it hot in here? It definitively was! Or was it just Alexia?

It was just Alexia.

Your knees went weak, your heart was racing and skin on fire.

In a crowded bar, surrounded by family, friends and colleagues she smashed her lips against yours. You responded as eagerly while she tried to pull you impossibly closer - oh, how she had missed you and your kisses.

This kiss wasn‘t like the ones you shared before, it was pure need.

"Let‘s go" the midfielder mumbled, trying to catch her breath, the same as you did. She waited for a respond - your consent - before she left.

With you.

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wittyandobsessed · 13 days ago

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𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | Gregory House x Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | stupid behavior, migraine.

𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦’𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯.

House’s schemes were rarely straightforward, and this one was no exception. It had all started when he stumbled upon an article in a prestigious medical journal, authored by none other than Dr. Walter Henson, a former colleague from his medical school days. Henson, the man who had publicly accused House of cheating during their final year, had gone on to carve out a respectable, if unremarkable, career in pharmacological research. The article detailed his latest work: a groundbreaking new drug for migraines.

The moment House saw Henson’s name, a storm of old grudges and biting curiosity brewed in his mind. The smug bastard finally thinks he’s relevant? House thought. He skimmed the article, snorting at its technical jargon and self-congratulatory tone. The idea that Henson’s drug could be as revolutionary as claimed was laughable. But what irked House most was the praise the paper was garnering—praised by people who should have known better.

House couldn’t resist the pull of vindication. He didn’t just want to discredit Henson; he wanted to obliterate his credibility in public. “The man’s ego deserves a migraine worse than his drug could ever cure,” House muttered to himself, spinning his cane in one hand as he considered his options.

The first step was to attend Henson’s upcoming conference, where he was presenting his findings. House, of course, couldn’t just sit quietly in the audience like any normal person. His plan was to interrupt the presentation with razor-sharp questions that would unravel Henson’s argument before the audience’s eyes. But Henson, smug and prepared, had all the right answers—or at least answers that satisfied everyone but House.

Frustrated but undeterred, House decided on a more audacious approach. If he couldn’t embarrass Henson on stage, he’d do it by disproving the efficacy of the drug itself. And what better test subject than the ever-sacrificial Dr. Gregory House?

“People fake migraines for sympathy all the time,” he said to Wilson over lunch. “I’m just taking it a step further by giving myself one for science. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Wilson raised an incredulous eyebrow. “The worst? How about you end up curled in a dark room for three days regretting every life decision that led you to this point?”

“Please. I already regret most of those,” House replied, popping a Vicodin. “This? This is for the greater good.”

And with that, he set his absurd plan in motion.

House’s process of inducing a migraine was, predictably, reckless and borderline masochistic. House reclined in his office chair, the empty syringe discarded on his desk like a grim trophy. He could already feel the subtle beginnings of the migraine taking hold—a dull throb behind his left eye, accompanied by the faint sensation of pressure building at his temples. It was like the prelude to a storm, the air thick with expectation. His lips curved into a small, satisfied smirk despite the discomfort. Another genius experiment, another inevitable victory.

The pain escalated rapidly. The throb became a pounding, and the pressure behind his eyes morphed into a relentless vise, tightening with each passing minute. He braced himself, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his hands pressing against his temples. A quiet groan slipped out before he could stop it.

House had endured pain before—lived with it, in fact—but this was different. It wasn’t the chronic ache of his leg or the manageable twinges that Vicodin could smooth over. This was acute, blinding, and utterly incapacitating. He reached for the bottle of water on his desk, but even the effort of unscrewing the cap sent a sharp jolt through his skull, forcing him to stop.

By the time Wilson arrived, the migraine had claimed complete dominion over House’s senses. His office was a cocoon of dim light, the blinds drawn tightly shut, the only sound the faint hum of the air conditioning. Wilson stepped inside, his usual look of bemused exasperation painted across his face.

“Well, if it isn’t the martyr of medical science,” Wilson drawled, glancing at the syringe on the desk. “How’s the great experiment going, House? Painful enough to regret it yet?”

House didn’t bother looking up. “Still better company than you,” he muttered, his voice low and strained. His head remained cradled in his hands, fingers digging into his temples as if he could squeeze the pain away.

Wilson, unimpressed, crossed his arms. “You injected yourself with migraine medication and something to induce a migraine? I’m not sure whether to call you insane or applaud your dedication to self-destruction.”

House’s response was a low grunt, barely audible. The pounding in his head drowned out most of Wilson’s words, but he caught the tone—somewhere between concern and annoyance.

“Well, since you’re clearly miserable,” Wilson continued, a wicked grin forming, “I think it’s only fair to make this moment educational.”

Before House could protest, Wilson marched to the windows and threw the blinds open, flooding the room with blinding sunlight. House recoiled instantly, a guttural sound escaping his throat as he shielded his eyes.

“Are you kidding me?!” he barked, his voice cracking under the strain.

“Oh, I’m just helping,” Wilson replied innocently, moving to the light switch and flicking it on. The fluorescent bulbs buzzed to life, their harsh glow cutting through the dim sanctuary House had created.

“Wilson,” House growled, his tone edged with genuine desperation, “if you don’t turn that off, I will murder you in your sleep.”

But Wilson wasn’t done. He began clinking items on the desk—his watch against the water bottle, the pen holder against the desk lamp—creating a cacophony of sound that reverberated through House’s skull like a sledgehammer.

“Get out!” House bellowed, clutching his head.

Satisfied he’d made his point, Wilson relented and left with a muttered “Idiot” under his breath.

Not long after Wilson’s departure, you arrived at House’s office, concern etched into your features. You had heard from one of the nurses about his latest stunt, and while you were used to House’s reckless experiments, the thought of him lying in agony was enough to bring you straight to his door.

What you found made your chest tighten. House was sprawled on the floor, his cane discarded nearby, his eyes squeezed shut as he pressed the heel of his palm against his forehead. His normally sharp, cutting presence was reduced to a vulnerable shadow of itself.

You stepped inside, careful to close the door softly behind you. “What were you thinking?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You crouched down beside him, your knees brushing the edge of his arm as you reached out to gently touch his shoulder.

House flinched at the contact but didn’t push you away. “What do you think?” he muttered, his tone laced with sarcasm despite the evident pain. “Science, brilliance, the usual.”

“There’s a fine line between brilliance and idiocy,” you said, your tone devoid of malice. You knew him too well to be surprised by his recklessness. Instead, there was a quiet sympathy in your voice, a soft understanding of the lengths he would go to prove himself right. “I hope the pain is worth it.”

House grunted, his hand shifting to cover his eyes. “It is,” he said flatly. “I’ve proved my point.”

“And it was that important?” you asked, leaning back slightly to study his face.

“Of course it was,” he snapped, though the bite in his words lacked conviction. After a pause, he added, “Henson’s drug is crap. The world needed to know.”

“And the world couldn’t have found out some other way?” you pressed, almost gently.

House groaned, turning his head slightly to face you. Even through the pain, there was a flicker of defiance in his expression. “Some truths are worth suffering for,” he said, his lips twitching into a faint smirk before another wave of pain wiped it away.

You sighed, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable,” you murmured, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from his forehead. The gesture was small, almost insignificant, but it seemed to ground him. His body relaxed minutely under your touch, the tension in his shoulders easing just enough for him to exhale a shaky breath.

For a moment, the room was quiet, save for the sound of his labored breathing.

After a moment of standing there, watching House curled up on the floor in obvious torment, you made a decision. You couldn’t just leave him like this, stubbornly suffering through the consequences of his reckless experiment. With a soft sigh, you knelt down next to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Move over,” you murmured, your tone firm but kind.

House cracked open one eye, his gaze sluggish and unfocused. Even in his haze of pain, there was a flicker of curiosity in his expression as he studied you.

“What?” he rasped, his voice hoarse.

“Move over,” you repeated. “I need you to sit up for a second. Come on, work with me here.”

House groaned in protest, but he grudgingly shifted, propping himself up on one elbow. His movements were slow and deliberate, each motion accompanied by a wince or a muttered curse. You guided him with a steady hand, helping him adjust until there was enough space for you to sit down on the floor.

“Lie back,” you instructed, patting your lap.

House raised an eyebrow. You rolled your eyes but smiled softly. “Just lie back, House. Humor me.”

He hesitated for a moment, but the exhaustion etched into his features betrayed him. Finally, he relented, lowering himself until his head rested on your lap. The tension in his body didn’t dissipate entirely, but there was a noticeable shift—a subtle surrender to your care.

With his head cradled against you, you reached up and began to stroke his hair. Your fingers moved slowly, gliding through the unruly strands with gentle precision. The repetitive motion was soothing, each stroke a silent reassurance that he wasn’t alone in his misery.

“What are you doing?” House mumbled, his voice muffled against your thigh.

“Helping,” you replied simply.

He opened his mouth to retort, but you cut him off.

“I don’t know much about this miracle drug Henson’s been peddling, but I do know a thing or two about pressure points,” you said. “They help with circulation, and circulation helps with migraines.”

House didn’t respond, but his breathing had slowed slightly, the rhythm of your fingers in his hair lulling him into a marginally calmer state.

You shifted your focus, moving your hands from his hair to his forehead. Using your thumbs, you applied light pressure to the center of his brow, working in small, deliberate circles. The skin beneath your fingers was warm, slightly damp with sweat, and you could feel the faint flutter of his pulse as you worked.

House made a low sound in the back of his throat, somewhere between a sigh and a groan.

“Does that hurt?” you asked, pausing to gauge his reaction.

“No,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “Feels... good.”

Encouraged, you continued, your fingers tracing the lines of his forehead with gentle precision. You pressed slightly harder, massaging the area around his temples in slow, circular motions. His face, usually so guarded and sharp, had begun to soften, the tight lines of pain easing under your touch.

“House,” you said softly, “you need to stop doing things like this to yourself.”

He didn’t respond immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was tinged with defiance but lacked the usual venom. “I wouldn’t have to if people weren’t so damn wrong all the time.”

You huffed a quiet laugh. “And you think giving yourself a migraine is the best way to prove that?”

His lips twitched into a faint smirk. “Worked, didn’t it?”

Shaking your head, you moved your hands to his cheeks, using your fingertips to apply gentle pressure along his jawline. His stubble scratched against your skin, a tactile reminder of his humanity—the man beneath the bravado.

“You’re impossible,” you said softly, though there was no real bite to your words.

“Thanks,” he muttered, the sarcasm dulled by the drowsy tone in his voice.

You shifted your hands again, this time tracing the sides of his neck. Your fingers glided over the taut muscles, kneading the tension away with slow, deliberate motions. House’s body relaxed further, his head sinking more heavily against your lap.

“You’re going to put massage therapists out of business,” he mumbled, his words slurring slightly as he drifted closer to the edge of sleep.

“Good thing I’m not charging you,” you quipped, your smile softening as you continued to work.

The room fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the faint hum of the air conditioning and the sound of House’s measured breathing. You lost track of time as you moved your hands over his temples, his cheeks, the nape of his neck. Each motion was an unspoken promise—a quiet reassurance that, for this moment, he didn’t have to bear his pain alone.

Eventually, House let out a soft sigh, his body going limp against you. The lines of pain on his face had faded, replaced by an expression of tentative peace.

“Thanks,” he murmured, the word barely audible.

You brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, your fingers lingering for a moment before resting gently against his temple. “Anytime,” you whispered, your voice filled with a tenderness you knew he wouldn’t acknowledge out loud.

And so you stayed there, the two of you on the floor of his office, sharing a rare moment of quiet vulnerability in the midst of his self-inflicted chaos.

#greg house #oneshot #x reader #house md #gregory house #greg house x reader #Gregory house x reader

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camillelespanayesbtch · 3 months ago

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Seven Devils All Around Me (18+)

Summary: It isn't your fault you like the feeling of power, the sensation was addictive, and although it never worked out well for those around you, it certainly worked well for you. You weren't to blame that people seldom survived attacking you, it was their fault after all. But you can only run for so long before your misdeeds catch up to you, and where will you be left after? It's dangerous to walk certain paths alone as a young witch.

Content: Eventual smut, graphic depictions of murder and violence, character death, power imbalance, manipulation, addiction, grief, discussion of sexual violence (r receiving) (I will add more as I think of them)

Word Count: 4690

Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

I will block minors and ageless bios

Chapter One

You hum to yourself as you follow the marks you carved into the trees, a hidden path you had created that left those who follow you believing you were the perfect victim, blissfully unaware of the danger that followed you. You could hear the boys talking among themselves, their gleeful snickering as they think about all the things they could do to you now that they had you alone and unaware. Like most evenings, the forest was a cacophony of sound, there wasn’t an inch of space where there was silence, every crevasse had sound, even the ants clicked to one another to inform the other of the crumbs of bread that were left abandoned on the floor of the community hall that hosted giants. The leaves crunch underfoot, small twigs snapping as you step on them, continuing to hum the tune until you come to a clearing in the forest.

There was a space where no leaves were, a perfect circle that had been made over years of the same trick, black as the night sky is dark. “Look boys,” Douglas says with a grin, “She’s made a spot for fucking, just for us.” He moves closer to you, the others surrounding you as well, all of them giving each other encouraging looks. They didn’t believe the stories about boys going missing because every coven had tales like that, even the girls were told tales about their powers being taken when lured to walk the witch’s road, but everyone believed that it was just the danger of the road and not one of their own doing it. “I wonder if her tits are as big as her top makes them look,” Douglas says, advancing on you quickly, his hands twitching by his side as he thinks about tearing your shirt from your body.

“I’ve seen them through her window when she changes,” Clint says, “They’re small, no bigger than a handful, but at least they’re perky.” He cracks his knuckles, his eyes glinting dangerously. This wasn’t his first time taking what he wanted, and it wouldn’t be his last, just like the other boys he was with- if he sees something he wants, he takes it. His mother did raise him to be respectful towards women, especially those in the coven, but she always spoke about you as being the exception. You were the freak of the group, the one people whispered about, warned the kids to stay away from least you corrupt them. So, really, what he and his friends were about to do wasn’t a bad thing, it was deserved. “We should take pictures and add them to the wall.”

“We should take pictures and add them to the wall,” you mimic, turning to face them. “Didn’t anyone tell you not to keep trophies? Or was that too much for your tiny little boy-brains to comprehend?” You run your fingers through your hair, letting out a sigh as you shake a few knots loose. You were hungry, and these boys would be enough to last you a few weeks. Sure, they weren’t as powerful as the elders, too jumped up on the testosterone coursing through their bodies to focus on mastering the craft, instead relying on brute force to get things done. “Didn’t mommy teach you better? Or even your fathers? No, I suppose not. No, daddy left you boys behind, didn’t he? Went off to go fuck some young maiden the next town over,” you make a vulgar gesture, thrusting your hips before laughing when you see the group clench their fists in anger. “Oh no, did I hurt your feelings? What’re you gonna do? Blast me?”

It would only take one. It only ever takes one, but they didn’t know that. Of course they didn’t know that they barely knew how to groom themselves let alone see the signs of a trap, to even see that sometimes there is truth in the tales they have been told since childhood. You mightn’t have believed the ones about the Purple Witch, but you wouldn’t deny that there is something alluring about her. The ability to take someone’s powers? You wondered what it felt like, if it was as addictive as watching people burn, using their own powers to cause their deaths. “Lucas and Clint, hold her down,” Douglas orders, his eyes burning into yours.

The two boys he orders raise their hands, their magic shooting from their hands and wrapping around your wrists. They both were smirking until they see the lopsided grin on your face, a darkness settling into your eyes. You breathe in deep through your nose, tilting your head back up to the sky as your eyes drift shut, feeling the warmth starting to spread through your body and bloom out from your palms, “Oh boys,” you exhale. “Silly, stupid, little boys.” Your head rolls forward and you open your eyes to look at them, a fire burning in your eyes that makes them take a step back. “Didn’t you hear the stories? Didn’t your mother tell you not to go into the woods at night?”

“She’s just- She’s just bluffing,” Douglas stutters, “She’s just trying to scare us.” He puffs his chest out in false bravado before moving closer to you, his hands coming up to tear the front of your blouse open, but he hisses in pain, pulling his hands back. Your body had grown hot to the touch, as though he had just put his hands over the hot embers of a campfire, “What trickery is this?”

“You haven’t figured it out, have you?” You yank your hands free of Clint and Lucas’ magic, grabbing a handful of Douglas’ shirt, and pulling him so his body was against yours, a feral grin spreading across your face. “Smell that?” You lean in, taking a deep breath as the scent of burning fabric starts to fill the air, “Maybe you can feel it. It’s getting hot, isn’t it? I wonder if I’ll see eyes explode this time like popcorn.” You stare at him intensely, your hands glowing like magma as you start to cook him from the inside out, feeling his energy seeping out of him and into you. You let out a content sigh a the sensation, watching as his eyes go wide, his skin turning a deep red before starting to melt from his muscles and bones. He cries out in agony, trying to get away from you, to put the fire out inside of him but it was of no use, and soon he falls to the ground, his body quickly going up in flames. “Now,” you smile and turn to look at the other boys who were looking on in horror, “Who’s next?”

“You’re a monster,” Clint says, clenching his fists, “He didn’t even do anything to you! We were just playing!” He was quick to attack you, seemingly forgetting what he had just witnessed you do to his friend. You eagerly drink his energy up, your body glowing like a reactor before his body turns into barbecue. He claws at his clothes, trying to remove the flaming fabric from his body as he writhes on the ground, his screams drowning out the music of songbirds. You wonder if the woods would muffle the sound so it didn’t carry to the houses that lived along the edge of it, that the neighbors wouldn’t have their windows open to let the warm spring breeze in. Then again, if you didn’t want them to hear, you simply shouldn’t be doing what you are, but you couldn’t help yourself, could you? You enjoy it too much. You enjoy luring men into the woods, using their own powers to burn them alive as some sort of penance for all the women burned before you because their power was seen as a threat.

You take a few breaths to calm yourself, looking at your hands, they were turning black, tendrils creeping up your forearm and tickling your inner-elbow. This happened every time, the only evidence of your crimes. They were easy to hide though, you wore long-sleeves, and had a pair of gloves that your mother gave you to protect you from the judgmental gaze of your coven. Your mother wasn’t consciously aware of what you were doing, thinking you were just going into the woods to practice your craft, but she couldn’t deny it was suspicious that boys kept going missing whenever you did.

The remaining boys fall quickly, you wave your hands, letting out a hot blast of fire that turns their remains to ash. You knew the rain would disperse the ashes, returning them to the earth and helping to keep the forest alive, although your circle never grew back- the grass has remained dead and black for years. You were in your twenties now, and you had been doing this since you were sixteen. You do the buttons back up on your blouse then pull your sleeves down, doing the cuff buttons up so the sleeves wouldn’t go out of place. You flick your hair from your face, a smile settling on your features as you start to head back, humming to yourself once more.

As you walk, you stop occasionally to pick some flowers for your mom, making a bouquet for her. Your father wasn’t around to do this for her, not that he had done such thoughtful things when he was alive, that had always been your thing. You loved making your mom smile because it meant she wasn’t worrying about anything which had become her normal. If she wasn’t worrying about you getting in trouble, she was worrying about the coven being run out of town, and if she wasn’t worrying about that, she was worrying about taxes which only seemed to go up every year. It’s not that you couldn’t afford the taxes, she had been around for centuries, she had more than enough money to cover them, but it was still an unnecessary stress in her life that she simply did not need. If you could get away with it, you would burn the tax collector alive, maybe even roast him over a fire like you would toast a marshmallow.

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” A familiar voice asks, disappointment evident in her tone. “I tell them- I tell them every meeting that it isn’t you, that my daughter would never bring harm to her coven, and every time you go out and prove me wrong.”

You look up from the flowers you were examining, your features falling, “Mama… I- They attacked me,” you explain. “I was just coming here to practice, like you always want me to. And they followed me, taunting me, telling me all the horrible things they were going to do to me.” You turn your head slightly, just enough to see the open area out the corner of your eye that was a few hundred feet away by now before looking back at your mom. You try to smile, holding the sad looking bouquet out for her, “I picked you flowers. Your favorites. I know you like having fresh flowers in the house because you like when the bees-“

“Enough,” she cuts you off, “Enough,” she repeats, softer this time. She walks closer to you, a sadness on her face as she gently takes your free hand in hers- your skin was like charcoal, and still hot to the touch like the furnace in winter. Her heart aches painfully in her chest, why was her only child like this? Had she done something wrong? Those questions hurt her; how could she think so poorly of you? She loves you dearly, she would do anything for you, absolutely anything for you, why couldn’t you do this one thing for her? Her touch was soft, cooling your burning skin as she runs her fingers over it, your skin slowly turning back to your normal shade. She turns your hand over so your palm was facing her, running her finger in a circle on your palm, a small smile tugging on her lips, “Round and round the garden,” she whispers, “Went the teddy bear, one step,” she walks her finger up your forearm, healing as she goes, “two step,” another step onto your bicep, “Tickle you under there,” she says and gently tickles your underarm, a soft giggle escaping her. “You used to squeal whenever I did that to you as a toddler.”

You can’t help the quiet giggle you let out, unaware of the tears spilling from your eyes, “Mama,” you whisper back, “I’m not a little kid anymore.” She gives your arm a squeeze at that, looking pained by the reminder. You rest your hand over hers, looking remorseful immediately, “I know- I know I’m still your little girl. You still make my boo boo’s better.” You look down at your hands, they were no longer black as tar, and you could see the blue and purple of your veins on the backs of them instead of a deep red that glowed against the black. You felt a knot form in your stomach, “They’re gonna kill me, aren’t they, mama?” You ask her quietly, a waver in your voice. “For what I’ve done- They’re gonna burn me.”

Your mom blinks back tears but it was futile, the salty liquid running down her cheeks, “When they find out,” she replies softly, “Yes. They will.” She raises her hand to tenderly stroke your cheek, and as always, you lean into her touch. Her thumb brushes against your rosy skin, wiping away any tear that dared to fall. She didn’t know how long you would both have together, whether she could wash your hair and braid flowers into it, or whether now was the only time you two would get. “Why couldn’t you stop?”

“I can’t help it, mama, you know that,” you answer, your eyes closing as you relax into her touch. Her hands never caused the same pain and suffering that yours have, they have always healed and protected. There was never a moment where she didn’t help someone, where she turned them away when they showed up to the door pleading for her to make their sick child better. There was always a spare bed for the child or adult to recover, your mother watching over them during the night to ensure their condition didn’t worsen. You. You had always been the one to hurt, to harm, to inflict suffering and pain. Your mother, try as she might to get you to do things for the betterment of the coven such as burning the fields to return the nutrients to the earth, or helping start the bonfires for when there was a community barbecue, even trying to get you to take out the wolves that threatened the farm animals, but it never satiated you.

It wasn’t until you turned sixteen did it become a problem, but she brushed it off because you had been terribly bullied, she kept brushing it off when the first group of boys went missing. She had moved you both after that, found another coven. Six months of peace before it happened again. Every time, you would come home with blackened skin and a bouquet of flowers. She never had to worry about running out of dried flowers for her potions, the basement was full of them, your peace offerings to her. You always were so sincere in your apologies, and she believed you every time, why wouldn’t she? “They deserved it,” you add, “They were going to hurt me.”

“Not every single boy was out to hurt you, surely, sweetheart. What about Tommy? He was always so kind to you, he tutored you. You were friends.”

Tommy had been your friend two moves ago, you two had bonded over being excluded from most of the college class you were enrolled in, even the lecturer refused to acknowledge you in class. You both were good students, handing your assignments in on time and not once even asking for an extension. You thought you were just friends, you told him you only liked women, and he told you he was okay with it. You had gone over to his house one afternoon to study for an upcoming exam, the two of you were in his room on his bed reading notes when he had asked you if you’d ever kissed anyone before. The question made your skin crawl, “No,” you had answered, “I haven’t.” He got this look in his eyes at that answer, his hand had come up to turn your head to face him before he leaned in to kiss you, his tongue forced its way into your mouth, pocking and prodding your throat. You had frozen; your eyes wide as he assaulted you. It wasn’t until he had pulled back did the anger kick in. You don’t really remember much of what happened, only running out of the house as the fire department showed up to extinguish the flames, two of the firefighters checking over you for injuries. You had told your mother what happened, what he did, and she had brushed it off, saying it was just how it was done- nobody needed to ask for permission to kiss, it was spontaneous. You had cried in your room that night, you didn’t understand why your mom didn’t see why it was wrong of him to do that to you. She knew you liked women, why on earth would you ever want some man to kiss you?

“We- You know what he did to me, mama. He hurt me. He hurt me,” you tell her, more tears falling onto your cheeks, “He knew I didn’t like him like that. Every single one of them deserved it.” That wasn’t true, there had been a couple of groups you took out because you enjoyed the thrill of it, the screams, the feeling of power that filled your system. Even thinking about it now made you giddy, your pupils dilating as though a drug was coursing its way through your system. “You have to believe me, mama, please.”

Her hand falls from your face, “We should head back. You need a shower, and I’d like to braid your hair.” Her voice was cold, the older woman turning her back on you, not even taking the flowers from your hand. She usually hummed with you, the same song she sang to you as a child, but tonight the only sound was the owls hooting in the forest. You wipe your eyes on your sleeve, holding the flowers close to you as you follow along behind her. You hum quietly to yourself, looking up into the trees to see the glowing eyes of birds watching you. There was something comforting about them being so attentive, like they were looking out for the inhabitants that called the woods their home, even as they swoop on the mice that scamper across the leafy floor. It was the balance of things, and even as they eat the mice, they too would return to the earth and continue the cycle anew.

When you get home, your mother sits on a chair and has you sit on the floor between her legs as she starts to braid your hair, her fingers working deftly. She carefully takes the dried flowers and works them into your hair, willing the protection to keep you safe when the leaders come knocking. Only now does she hum, the strands of gold that hold the flowers in place starting to glow. She new deep down this day would come, that moving towns, cities, states would only get you so far because the tales that were told about a witch of destruction would catch up to you, that one coven was going to be smart enough to figure things out and realize it is one of their own. “You’ve always had such beautiful hair,” she murmurs, adding another flower to the braid and tying it into place, “Ever since you left my body, you had a mop of hair on your head. Whenever you woke in the morning, your hair was all over the place, and it would take so much water to tame it.”

“I’ve seen the photos,” you reply with a giggle, your eyes closed as you relax, enjoying the calming sensation of your mom braiding your hair. There had been times she had yelled at you for not brushing your hair, threatening to cut it all off if you didn’t want to take care of it. She had always apologized afterwards though, blaming her anger on something that had been said in a coven meeting as she carefully brushed the knots and tangles from your hair. “How long do we have?”

Your mother doesn’t look up from your hair, the wards she had set around the house were starting to crumble, only meant to slow them down, “Not long, my dear,” she picks the hairtie up and ties the braid off, securing a crystal in with it. “There,” she says, running her hand lightly over her work before you turn to look at her, your eyes holding the light of a thousand flames, “My beautiful girl. If you survive, you know you must never return.” Her hand caresses your cheek, her eyes held the river of life which you always loved looking into because you could feel the cool refreshing water wash over you, keeping you calm.

“I can’t leave you behind, mama. I can’t- I promised you that I would look after you,” you rest your hand over hers, they were the perfect balance. It always made you laugh how whenever her hands were cold, yours were burning hot, and on the rare occasion hers were warm, yours were colder than the glacier high in the mountains. You didn’t want to leave her behind, she would be an outcast unless she participated in your execution which she was unlikely to do because despite everything you have put her through, she still loves you and you knew there was nothing stronger than a mother’s love. “I can’t go without you.”

“You have to, sweetheart. You must find your own path, in a coven that will understand you,” she pulls back from you when the front door flies open, standing up she calls out to them. “She’s in here!” She looks at you, pain visible in her eyes, “She killed them! I saw it with my own eyes. No daughter of mine shall harm our coven.”

You felt your spirit break, unable to realize she was doing this for a reason, to keep herself safe, to keep you safe from seeing her harmed. “Mama-“ You start, struggling against the witches as they bind you with their magic, “Mama, please,” you beg, “Please don’t let them do this to me. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to do it, mama.” The women haul you to your feet, the magic tightening around your wrists behind your back, cutting off the circulation to your hands.

“I saw the look in your eyes, Yn. You enjoyed it.” She follows the other women out of the house, the path to the stake lined with other members of the coven holding burning torches. “I’ll bind her to the stake,” your mother tells the women, “To make up for what I have done. I have let this coven down too many times before, I won’t let it happen again.” Her magic felt different this time as it wraps itself around you, your hands pulled taut behind the stake, the cold no longer soothing, instead it felt icy, the frost burning your skin. She couldn’t look you in the eyes, she didn’t want you to see how much this was hurting her, and she didn’t want to see how betrayed you looked as she prepared to watch her daughter burn.

“I never thought I’d see the day, Theodora,” the elder-witch comments, “Preparing to burn your own flesh and blood after so long of defending her. Had this evening turned out differently, you would be on that stake along with her, there is no doubt about that.” She gestures for the others to surround you, a group of six women all part of the higher counsel, and every single one of them deeming you guilty. There was no room in their coven for someone like you, someone so dangerous, someone without remorse. Were they unbiased in their judgement? Four of them were not, all having lost a son to you. The other two had daughters, but even they feared that one day your hatred would spread to women. Although whenever their daughters had caught a glimpse of you, their cheeks turned as red as a rose, and a carefree giggle escaped them which they thought was arguably worse. “Get into position, Theodora. It’s time.”

“Mama please,” you beg, “Please. I didn’t mean to. I can’t control it. Please.” You look at her, desperate for her to believe you one last time, “Please, mama. Tell them. Tell them that I didn’t know what I was doing. That I didn’t mean to. That they hurt me too.”

Your mother wanted to stroke your cheek one last time, to wipe your tears away but she couldn’t do that, not anymore. She breathes you in, inhaling the floral scent of the shampoo you used before stepping down from the platform and joining the other women encircling you. “I should have let you burn the first time,” is all she says.

The elder-witch gives a nod, everyone raising their hands in preparation, “Begin!” She commands, their powers shooting out of their hands and hitting you full force, a pained scream tearing itself from your throat. It felt like your insides were being roasted, your skin prickling from the heat. It was agony, you had never felt anything like this before and you wanted it to stop.

“Please!” You scream, your head falling back against the stake, “Stop! I can’t-“ You could feel that familiar sensation starting to build in your stomach, and it wouldn’t be long until it broke free. “Mama- Mama run!” Your face was wet with tears, your head tipping forward, your eyes making contact with your mom’s. She couldn’t run, you both knew this, but you hoped this last time she would break the rules for you. The binding around your wrist starts falter, the women behind you noticing it.

“Elder- Her bindings! She’s going to break free!” One of them exclaims yet she does not stop her attack on you, none of them do because they hoped that if they continued, you would finally burn.

The elder-witch encourages them to push through it, “She is glowing! We are close! Keep going!” Your mother knew what was about to happen, finally she meets your eyes, mouthing an apology to you before the blast happens, all the women letting out agonizing screams as the fall to the ground ablaze. You slump somewhat against the wooden stake, your hair blowing in the draft created from the fires, your skin flush a deep red and your hands glowing brighter than the sun. You didn’t want to hurt them. You didn’t mean to, you begged for them not to do this. You warned them you couldn’t control it. You were going to wallow in that feeling until you remembered your mother. You look around frantically, counting the bodies: seven. Your mother-

“Mama-“ You jump down from the pedestal and rush over to where she had last been, sinking to your knees as you desperately try and put out the flames. She was unrecognizable, her skin blackened and burned. “Mama, I’m sorry,” you sob, cradling her burnt body close to you. She was the only person to look out for you, the only one to have stood by your side, and you had repaid her by killing her. Your tears drip from your chin and onto her corpse, the tears evaporating before they even touch her skin. You look down at her, “I’m sorry.”

#Agatha Harkness #Agatha Harkness x reader #Kathryn Hahn #Kathryn Hahn x reader #Agatha All Along #Agatha Harkness imagine #Kathryn Hahn imagine

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hey-august · 5 months ago

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August I need an opinion:

Which version of Crossguild poly x Reader insert is better?

Reader who’s associated with Buggy and gets dommed by Crochawk with him together and / or sometimes is used by all three of them to let of steam (Buggy being low on the pecking order because yes I love the idea of him needing to wait his turn or till Croc or Hawk say yes)

Reader who has been associated with Crocodile and Hawk before this entire thing started, is immensely more powerful than Buggy and at least on par with the other two and is the sweet dom to crocodiles mean Dom and Mihawks strict Dom to Buggy?

What’s the best way for the clown to get dommed? Getting fucked silly alongside someone he loves by two dangerous men OR by three people way more powerful than him that all have their unique appeal?

Buggy don’t gets to Dom because I am in a whining, trembling clown mood

IN THIS ESSAY I WILL-

Anon. ANON. I made the mistake of reading this during a work break and it was ALL I could think of for the rest of the day.

Personally, I adoooore Buggy and Reader being the toys of the Cross Guild polycule. There's a bond between you and Buggy - something that can only be conveyed through half-lidded eyes and gaping drooling mouths while you two are being plowed into oblivion.

Sharing sloppy wet kisses while the other two chase their pleasure.

Maybe sometimes Crocodile won't grab one of you by the throat, or Mihawk won't yank your hair and pull you away from each other. It's rare, but they'll let you ride your one orgasm while squeezing Buggy's own shaking hand. Sure they'll tease you for it, but you deserve a treat after being so good.

And the times when Buggy gets to use his energy and status - well fuck. We can also flip that around. You and Buggy are Crocodile's and Mihawk's playthings after all. If they want you to dom Buggy, well you're going to have to make it happen and have the clown put on a pretty show for them.

BUT LET'S TALK ABOUT THE OTHER GIFT YOU BROUGHT. 😤🥴

Buggy being passed from dom to dom. From lap to lap. Bed to bed. He follows each powerful leader, wringing his hands and wondering what delicious punishment or mind-numbing reward he's earned that day.

You are so soft and sweet with him. At least compared to the other two pirates. You fill Buggy's head with honeyed praise and goddamn he would do anything to keep receiving such delicacies from you. To drown in your attention, no matter what you ask for or how you need him. Buggy is the dopiest, most compliant fuck when he's with you.

As for Crocodile, it's like stress relief for the both of them, honestly. A moment for them to turn off their brains and let animal instinct take over. To give into the feeling of fuck and get fucked. And with Mihawk, it's a game. A gamble. How well can the clown perform? How well can he listen? Can he actually do as he's told? At the end, they're both sore winners.

When you put everyone together… Oof. Well. It's a lot. See, Buggy wants to please. He wants to do a good job. He wants to show that he's very good at taking what each of you will give. No matter how rough Crocodile is, how brutal his pace becomes, or how hard those giant hands dig into Buggy's body, your voice is in his ear.

Hearing you coo about how fucking beautiful he looks getting wrecked makes every ache feel like a trophy. Listening to you tell Mihawk how Buggy deserves a reward for following every rule is almost as good as the reward itself. Almost, but there's not much better than the taste of heaven between your legs.

Imagine this with me - A weary, sweaty Buggy switching between riding Crocodile and Mihawk. Easing himself down on each cock, one after the other. His groan is a mix of pleasure and exhaustion. He's been going so long and they slide in effortlessly, but fuck if Buggy still isn't being stretched to capacity. They're just so big.

And there you are, encouraging him with kisses on his neck and shoulder. Coaxing his hand to keep stroking a cock that's waiting it's next turn. Meanwhile, you're guiding Buggy's hips. Keeping him going.

He can make them come, right? He wants to make Crocodile and Mihawk feel good, right? That's it, keep going. Shh, shh, it's okay. You're doing so good. C'mon, take it all the way.

Buggy can hardly hold in the sinful sounds he makes when you all but slam his body down on whoever he's on top of. He's your lovely marionette clown and everyone's enjoying the show.

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lynaferns · 1 year ago

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I think that people complaining about Moon not getting many voice lines aren't seeing that that's actually part of his personality.

(I would have liked to hear more voice lines from him too but look at it this way)

He isn't very chatty in the first place, half his voice lines are laughters and when he does talk is in a very simple and rhyme-y way. I see this as: he just wants to have his message across and have fun in everything he does (why talk lot when few words do job) and honestly, if he feels he doesn't need to talk he perfectly can say nothing. We give Sun the trophy to the more expressive movements and motion but I think Moon deserves that too, he's very expressive through movement too, and dramatic! With all the jumps and little dances, the contortion and the fact that he never needed to do that swimming movement to control the wire, we literally see Sun and Eclipse use it just fine without doing weird movements to get to where they want to in Ruin, which means, once again, that Moon just does it for fun.

(it's funny because in fanfic typically you see Moon having perfect control of the wire and Sun struggling to use it. While the dlc could indicate that Sun is the one who has perfect control of the wire and Moon doesn't so he learned to do that swimming motion to make it work, idk, I would like to see this take used on a fic)

Sun on the other hand got MANY voice lines, not because they are giving him more attention than Moon but because he's the chatter box of the two, he cannot stay quiet and you see him, even if he has to deal with toddlers, using as much vocabulary as he can (the dude even goes French for a moment)

So yeah, those are my thoughts on it.

#fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf moon #fnaf moondrop #headcanon #help wanted 2

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miss-conjayniality · 1 year ago

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imagine submissive dilf!jay. you may seem like an airheaded, bubbly trophy wife on the surface. but there’s so much more to you than that. you’re his spoiled princess. he’d move the earth and sky for you. you have him wrapped around your finger and under your spell. your physical beauty may entice him, but your inner beauty entraps him. your inner world is rife with emotional richness that leaves jay feeling seduced.

people always wonder how you’re so chirpy and bubbly all the time. and it’s because your husband is the most doting, nurturing daddy ever to you, his goddess.

there’s nothing he wants more than to please his pretty princess and worship the ground you walk on. it’s your world and he lives in it.

it might seem like he’s the one who “leads” the relationship. but in reality, it’s you that leads it. he lives to serve you. if you want something, he’ll do anything to give it to you like the lovesick little simp he is. you find it quite endearing how such a dignified gentleman like jay can lose his composure because of your beautiful presence. you want those sparkly pink stilettos? jay will get them for u. you want that burberry trench coat? jay’s got his credit card ready. such a good daddy for his pretty little princess.

however, jay does have his bratty moments. you see….he isn’t allowed to touch himself without your permission. but sometimes, when he’s away on a business trip where he isn’t allowed to bring u, he steals one of your pink silk panties and films himself jacking off, whimpering, and shooting ropes with it. he does it at the thought of you, and then texting u the video with a caption like “princess….im so sorry for being such a bad daddy. but I couldn’t help it because i miss you so much”

the moment he sends texts like that, he simultaneously feels two emotions at once - fear and excitement. he fears the power his sweet little princess possesses, yet he’s also embarrassed to admit that it sends a chill down his spine in anticipation of what you’re gonna do next.

you receive the text while you’re out getting ur hair done with ur besties. you immediately noticed the nude thumbnail of the video, leading u to dim your phone’s brightness.

it puts a smile to your face seeing jay so desperate and whiny for you, yet it also has you concocting what to do with him once he gets home.

“tsk tsk….. as fun as it is to see you like this, rules are rules. i’ve been looking for those panties everywhere. I was gonna wear them to welcome u back home tonight. but now it looks like daddy decided to be an impatient slut and take one of my pretty pink panties. beware of what’s heading your way once you’re back,” you respond.

jay follows up with this response - “yes, princess. daddy deserves to be punished for his actions. i am so sorry for being such a bratty daddy to my pretty princess. I shouldn’t have acted on my urges.”

as he aboards his flight, he’s already thinking about how you’ll be tying him up with the prettiest pink ribbons ever - a testament to who you are. sweet n’ sugary, yet deadly.

#WELP I DID NOT EXPECT THIS TO BECOME SO LONG #I was on suuuch a huge caffeine high yesterday good lord….#enhypen smut #jay smut #enhypen hard hours #dom!reader #sub!enhypen #hard hours with heidi ♡#xoxo heidi ♡

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toomiieimagiines · 2 months ago

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Umumum, did you see the kissing hcs you did for akito and tsukasa? I would like a rui one if that's okay :3

It feels weird to request something like this

𖦹 hii! don’t feel awkward about it, i’ve been waiting for something cute like this for a while! let’s stop torturing rui for a while, and let him kiss reader!! (o^^o) sorry for hiatus, i have a bunch going on rn but i have a ton of writing qued up now! i’m just using a short one first to tease u guys! lololllll! do u guys like the new bullet points btw? i just think they're the cutest thing! also, i was thinkin of opening up some sort of commission to help with my banners! i can write you a however long fic if you just give me some pointers… or make some for me… i can credit you under every time i use them as well! LOLOLZ

♪ no warnings! (see before one shot for those warnings tho! (＞人＜;))

Rui Kamishiro Kissing Hc’s + more!?

☆ For starters, he was TOTALLY freaking out before your first kiss

☆ He just wants to impress you! Is that so wrong?

☆ DEFINITELY the kind of person who accidentally keeps his eyes open… Scary…

☆ He had never kissed anyone, or even dated! He didn’t want you to think he was weird if he messed up!

☆ Held your cheek so nicely too

☆ He’s always so gentle with you… :(

☆ Was a total wall for a while, he was always really tense…

☆ He did of course lighten up after a while, but not without a fight

☆ After he realized you weren’t out to get him, he turned into a FIEND

☆ “Sweetheart, I've been doing so good, y’know? I think I deserve something…”

☆ “I really missed you today…”

☆ Kisses with him always have a bit of reluctance to them, though

☆ His signature move is the tried-and-true shifty eyes, darting his gaze from yours, down to your lips, and back up again. He just wants to make sure you look into it!

☆ After that, it's brow-furrowing, the passion exploding

☆ Spontaneous kisses are VERY possible with him, throwing himself over to you when something particularly works in his favor

☆ He enjoys kisses that come from hugging the best. Feeling you close AND getting your lips on his? Sign him up!

☆ He’s also one to tease you when you kiss

☆ When you guys are comfortable, you really should watch out!

☆ He likes to pull you back when you least expect it, and WHAM!

☆ Doesn’t just love your lips either! He’s OBSESSED with kissing the top of your head!

☆ Again with the teasing, he likes to play Romeo and kiss your hands too

☆ He likes to be kissed on the cheek a lot, especially if you wear makeup and leave a kiss mark!

☆ Parades it around like a trophy

☆ The most offended you’d ever see him is if you wipe his kiss off. NEVER wipe his kiss off. He’d never kiss you again in fear he’s an awful kisser

☆ His kisses never really get spitty. If you want constant teeth clattering or biting, he’s not the one for you…

☆ Only time anything hasty happens is when he’s really upset

☆ He loves you - a ton - so please be nice with him too..

ayyyyy!! who’s proud of lil ol’ me?? here’s a mini mini oneshot! not long at all, but i thought the idea was cute! now that i think abt it, this was more just my musing… has a kissy kiss tho, so yay! it’s REALLY OOC sry… i’m rly not all that proud of this work, but it’s embarrassing how long it’s been since i’ve posted so i decided whatever take wut i give ya!!

TW: small issues with eating (rui has autism and trouble with textures (mild ARFID), you help him by trying to make nutritious food he won’t want to spew. . lmao… his problem has NOTHING to do with body image/weight, he’s just very particular..)

Rui wants to kiss you, you want to kiss Rui, and its causing you trouble.

It's been 4 years since you've been friends, 2 days since you've been dating, and you've been staring at each other for… how long are these stupid periods? Whatever, the short story is; the teacher made a million-dollar mistake (letting you two partner up for a group project), and everybody in your class is suffering because of it.

It's a classic story, you talk like everything’s normal, brush hands, look away, sputter something out, stare at each other, and freeze when you realize the other is staring right back. People - yourselves included - have seen you two be so natural together, so the simple fact of you two being so awkward is… unsettling. Little did they know, you both are going through some of the worst identity crises known to the angst-riddled teenage mind.

Rui is scared. To expand, Rui is scared of how much he wants to kiss you. To expand further, Rui is scared of how much he wants to kiss you, because you look so nervous around each other all the time since the thing, and he knows that asking you would be awkward enough to want to dig himself a grave out of embarrassment.

He wishes you would just wear the pants and ask, as horrible as that sounds. Why should he be the man and make the first move? He’s hardly manly, he wears striped sweaters…

He finds that way of thinking farcical, he knows it’s dumb to wait for you to ask, but he can’t help it. You asked him out (kinda, it was a genuinely… unique experience), and you should be the one to initiate a first kiss. Rui had never kissed anyone before! Can’t you take one for the team? He’s sure you’ve kissed people, how could you have not?

You were thinking the same thing, of course.

I mean, you already had to make him sit through your painfully long-winded and uncoordinated confession, the least he could do is this! He's definitely kissed someone, you decide, you haven't! It isn't fair to expect you to know what to do!

To everyone else, said simply, you both look schizophrenic.

The way you two decide how to split up the work, the way you two talk to each other as if you're perfect strangers, is confusing for both of you.

“O-Oh, uh- I can- y'know- I can do the writing, I don't mind-”

Your hands graze the others while reaching for the cheap school laptop.

“Sorry!-” You both squeak in unison, pulling away as if you had burned each other. Damnit! This is so annoying! You have to speak up.

“Rui we’re- c'mon, you're still my best friend, so why’re we acting like this?-” You try to laugh, covering your face in frustration. “Be normal, we do this all the time.”

Fortunately, he loves you more than his embarrassment, so your words quickly calm him down.

You both are just so dramatic!

Later, the lunch bell saves you from the hell-sent assignment, and you meet at your usual spot for lunch. You pull two lunch boxes out of your bag, and he grows anxious.

He squints at the sun, his hand cupping his face. “It’s been warm out, even for me. Do you think so?”

Really, Rui? You want to say, small talk? Is this to get out of the real food you want to feed him? Yeah, right.

“You’ll be pretty warm when I strangle you.” You remark, handing him his. “Heard you get sweaty when you fight for air, so you better not piss me off.” You point for emphasis, forcing down your smile. He has to keep from smiling too.

“Well, now i’m feeling nauseous,” he looks away, chuckling. “I think I’ll call someone..”

“Yeah, right. Like you’d find someone else to cut you cutely-shaped vegetables.” You nudge him with your shoulder, pointing again to his lunchbox as if to say eat. Eat now, or die later.

“Maybe a toddler's mom,” He pokes his veg to the side, “or a professional lunchbox maker. Something stupid like that.”

“I bought you soda candy if you’re a good boy and finish all your vegetables.”

“Aye aye, cap’n!” He fake saluts, looking at his lunch with a new-found determination.

“You're too easy, I should be a dog trainer.” You sit, watching him inspect the offending food. He knows you're watching him, and you know he knows you're watching him. You do it because it gives him a reason to actually try, letting him know that if he doesn't eat, you won't.

“You really went with a challenge today...” He squints.

“Why’d you think I bought soda candy?”

“Ah.”

A beat, you glare at him.

“Are you just going to look at it?” You prod, he ponders.

“What's my conversation rate?”

“Two bites to one candy.”

“That seems greedy.”

“Candy-flation. Its a real issue nowadays.”

Another beat, you have to pick up the silence again.

“So whats the plan?”

“You can eat, y'know. I'd rather you not starve to death.”

“Feelings mutual, Rui.”

“Touché.”

He picks one thing up, bringing it to his lips, and you do the same. You smile cockily, knowing he gave in.

“It's good, I promise. I only cooked ‘em for a little bit, so they shouldn't be too mushy.” You speak up, a piece of chicken in your cheek. “I even put meat in it, since you complained last time that it was too “vegetable-y”.”

He nods, chewing slowly with apprehension filling his body. As he continues to chew, however, his reluctance melts away slightly. He always doubts you for nothing! Why doesn’t he trust you? This isn’t bad at all.

“Good, huh? Proud of you,” you encourage. “Rui 2, broccoli 0. Hold out your hand.” You instruct, placing a candy on his palm. “Give me some feedback. Is the sauce a Rui yay or nay?”

“Makes broccoli better, so I like it.” He nods, confirming himself. You fist pump, thrilled he enjoyed it. He sighs at the taste of the sweet gummy, “I like this better though, if you could believe it.”

“Rui liking candy? I don't!” You feign surprise, holding a hand to your chest. He pushes you away playfully.

“Whatever,” he pauses, swallowing. “Do I uh- Do I have to finish?”

“If you wanna live, then yeah.” You joke, holding up an unconvincing first. He laughs.

You two forget about your shared desire, if only for a little bit.

It ends when he walks you home.

You guys were completely normal the whole school day! You both don't know where the sudden apprehension is even coming from, and it’s just…

awkward.

Rui clears his throat, pulling on his coat with an unneeded sense of urgency. You don't know why he felt the need to get your attention, you've been sneaking glances at him for the last 15 minutes.

“So, uh-” he starts, looking away. You know he's about to try for small talk, and it's welcome. “Tsukasa got sick, can you believe it?”

Ah, you were wondering why he didn't have anything to do today.

“I feel bad for his parents, I’d hate to have to nurse ‘kasa back to health,” you snicker, and he joins in reluctantly.

“Me too.”

Another round of silence overtakes the two of you, it’s suffocating.

“So I-“

“Would you-“

You both start, then stop just as quickly. The stifling atmosphere of your shared embarrassment leaves you both speechless.

“Sorry.”

You two don’t try to start again, not until you two reach your house.

“So…” you start. Everything feels so surreal. If you would've told yourself three days ago you'd be in a relationship with your best friend, you’d have never believed yourself.

“So.” He agrees, nodding. He's feeling as messed up as you are, he hopes you know that… “I can get started on that project tomorrow-”

“C'mon, Rui!-” you exclaim, grabbing his hands. You're sick of the tension - the apprehension - you just wanted to know where he was with it. Did he not want to be in a relationship with you? “I- Can you just tell me if you wanted to stay friends? This is so awkward!”

“It's not that, truly.” He defends, squeezing your hands. He can't believe you'd think that. Can you not see how endeared you are to him? A wave of relief washes over you, though. At least that suspicion wasn't confirmed. “I just- well…” He starts, getting flustered, “I get nervous…” His voice goes quieter, and he pulls you closer.

You swallow hard, your faces closer than before. The urge comes back- the feeling of desire to not only call him your boyfriend (something that already leaves a fuzzy feeling in your stomach), but to do romantic things with him. To touch him, hold him, breathe him in- even simply kiss him. Those things are why you decided to even tell him in the first place, why you were so discontent with your previous friendship.

Rui felt the same way too. He found his heart utterly devoted to the idea of you, and not much else. He saw in himself a restless animal, listening to every word you said like it was poetry.

All of this is to say that you two were at an impasse.

“Rui,” you beg, staring into his eyes, “let's be weird! I want to do things for the first time with you! I want to-”

A hand on your cheek breaks you from your monologue; your heart tightens.

Rui looks down at you, his expression something you can’t completely describe. He stares at you back, then he goes down to your lips, then back at you.

His voice is a whisper when he breaks the silence.

“Is this okay?”

You freeze. Is what okay? Why is he looking at you like that? Your knees turn into jelly as you realize.

Oh, he wants to kiss you.

You nod feverishly, leaning in.

Your collective thoughts quiet when your lips connect, and for once you’re not worried about trivial things like tension. It’s wonderful - still very reluctant, both being terrified of disappointing the other - but still heartskippingly amazing.

His eyebrows furrow as he deepens the kiss, moving off of pure instinct. He’s glad his first kiss is with you - he wouldn’t have it any other way. There’s no teeth, no fire, just small bursts of heat. You two have never been the kind to be rough with each other, after all, and it’s shown in the way you take care of one another.

His knees lock at the feeling of total gentleness from you, basking in the way you feel. It’s a calm reminder to both of you that; yes, you love each other, and no, you’re not just friends anymore.

like all good things, though, it came to an end eventually, as you two unfortunately had to breathe. (That isn’t to mention the fact that the blistering heat - combined with the strenuous activity, and embarrassment of doing this while standing on your very seeable porch - was leading you both to an embarrassing amount of perspiration.)

He looks down at your connected hands then back up at you, his face giddy and lopsided. “I should go home before it gets too dark, huh?”

You laugh too, heart pounding at the feeling of puppy love. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

It’s not a question, it’s a promise. A promise that you WILL be at school and WILL speak to him like normal.

“‘Course,” he confirms.

He walks home just a little quicker that night, anxious to tell Nene all about it.

(the ironic thing, is that as soon as you closed your front door, you texted her too.)

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mistywaves98 · 1 year ago

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hi!! could u maybe write for smth abt yandere scaramouche liking to humiliate and degrade reader infront of the other harbingers?

no worries if u wouldn't like to write for this! just a suggestion :3

✧･ﾟ:* ->A/N: Mean scara supremacyyy 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

✧･ﾟ:* ->Harbinger! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader

✧･ﾟ:* ->¡Warnings!: NSFW, Humiliation, Why is it so longg, Dirty talk, Degradation, Collaring/Leash, Exhibitionism, Forced company is implied, Hair Pulling, I think that's everything!

✧･ﾟ:* ->Minor writing smut! DNI if uncomfy!

A pet, that's all you were ever since you came here. A pet whose only purpose was to sit and look pretty beside the The Balladeer like some sort of trophy. And maybe, if he was bored enough, he would use you for...'entertainment'...

Your head was held low as the judgemental eyes of the Harbingers surrounding the table pierced through your soul. Some were of slight pity while other's looked amused and almost seemed to be mocking your unfortunate state. All their gazes felt even colder against your skin than the biting chill in the room. The slightest breeze that wafted against your skin had you shuddering, wishing you could be clothed in those warm coats the others wore. But no, you weren't deserving of such luxuries.

Instead, you were to sit on the freezing, marble floor next to his chair, wearing nothing but the skimpiest lingerie you've probably ever laid eyes on. Thin laces and straps dug into your delicate skin and you were sure that there'd be marks when you removed it later. The only things that really 'covered' your body were the purple thigh high stockings held up by the garter belt fastened around your waist. To top it all off, a pretty indigo collar inscribed with the words 'Scaramouche's Property' adorned your neck. One end of the leash was attached to the front, while the other was held in his hand.

Any normal person wouldn't dare to wear such scandalous outfits in front people with such status, but it's not like you had a choice. You curled up, trying to make yourself as small as possible as the meeting went on. It felt like hours and with every second that passed, you could feel yourself getting more miserable. At one point you wondered if you might catch frostbite.

Scaramouche was getting rather impatient too and it was apparent with the way he fidgeted with the leash, swaying it aimlessly and occasionally giving it a sharp tug which made your body fall forward slightly with a quiet whimper as the leather tightened around your neck, earning a snicker from him as he gazed down at your pathetic form from above. At one point your eyes connected with his and a shiver of dread ran down your body as you saw the way his violet irises bore into your own. Something dark was swirling around in them and your fears were only confirmed when he suddenly yanked your body up by the leash, making you choke from the sudden grip of the collar around your neck as you stumbled to your feet.

Those who were talking immediately went silent at this display, their eyebrows raised with amusement as they watched Scaramouche grab your face with his free hand to pull you down to his level. His lips brushed your ear as he whispered in a sultry tone that bled with malevolence,"I'm going to die of boredom if I have to listen to another word that comes out of the mouths of these insufferable idiots I call my colleagues. Why don't we spice things up a bit, hm?" Your body tensed as his warm muscle darted out to trace the shell of your ear, leaving no doubt as to what he was implying.

The option to protest was never there as within moments you were pinned to the conference table, the frigid surface meeting your stomach and cheeks, which were rapidly warming with embarrassment. You could feel the intrigued stares, watching with anticipation for what was to come. Unlike you, Scaramouche couldn't care less about what everyone else thought of this shameless sight as his hand on your face moved to teasingly cup your breast, giving it a squeeze before going down to trace the arch of your back till it eventually settled on your ass that was barely covered by the lacey panties of the lingerie set.

Your eyes widened and you squeaked in surprise from the harsh slap he suddenly gave the soft flesh, making it redden instantly from the impact. The colour on your cheeks darkened, even more so when he laughed sinisterly behind you. He leaned forward, pressing his body against yours, the fur of his coat tickling your face as he whispered in a harsh tone,"Oh? It seems like my little slut is enjoying this, are you not? Heh, I wouldn't expect anything less. I bet you want me to take you right here in front of everyone so that they can see your face contort like a whore from pleasure as I fuck you, hm?" Your silence only irritated him and his hand holding the leash dropped it and reached up to grip a fistful of your hair, pulling it back as his eyes narrowed impatiently,"Come on, speak up. Answer me using the same voice that screams my name whenever I rail your brains out." "...No, I wouldn't like th—" Your words are abruptly cut off when he shoves two fingers so deep into your mouth that they hit the back of your throat, making your eyes water as you gag around them. "Shut your fucking mouth and spare me your nonsense, you cock-sucking bitch. I'll make you love it, I'll make you addicted to the feeling of my cock penetrating those tight walls of yours."

The two digits remained in your wet cavern, pressing down on your tongue as his other hand hooked its fingers around the waistband of your panties, tugging them down to reveal your glistening cunt. The sight made him smile as he pulled back slightly, letting anyone nearby oogle at whatever they could see. He didn't mind showing off your body to others, rather, it thrilled him in many ways. The knowledge that people could look as much as they want, but not being able to lay a finger on his pet, satisfied his possessive desires and the fact you found it both embarrassing and indecent just made him want to do it more to humiliate you to the fullest.

"Suck." Scaramouche's raspy voice commanded as he pumped his slender digits in and out of your mouth, leaving you no choice but to obey. Drool pooled in the corners of your lips, eventually running down your chin and dripping onto the table as you reluctantly closed your pretty lips around his fingers. He felt pleased as he felt your tongue curling around them, the same way it did when he made you suck him off after a hard day.

While he kept your mouth busy with one hand, the other trailed up your slit, collecting your slick on his index and middle before holding it up for you and the rest of the table to see. Everyone's eyes were immediately glued to the way your essence dripped off his fingers like honey and that did nothing to ease your embarrassment. "Look at that, the arousal of a whore who gets turned on by her master showing her off." His enjoyment was evident in the shit-esting grin he gave you as he said that.

Suddenly, he pulled his hand away from your mouth, allowing you to breathe through it as he used both of them to grip your hips, lifting them slightly as he shifted himself between your legs. Once you were in his desired position, he shrugged off his obstructive coat before beginning to unbuckle his belt. As he did, he got close to your ear once again as he spoke in a tone full of evil intent,"You're so wet right now I don't think I even need to prepare your hole. So let's skip to the best part, shall we?" Once he had managed to pull down his pants and boxers just enough to let his aching cock free, he lined himself up with your pussy.

You craned your head to look back at him, eyes begging him to not go this far, but he only smirked at you in return. With no warning, Scaramouche thrusted forward, stuffing you to the brim with his girthy length as you hissed at the stretch. No matter how many times he fucked you, your pussy always seemed to remain as tight as a virgin's. He groaned in bliss as he felt your walls deliciously squeezing his cock, it was a feeling he could never get enough of. His hands found purchase on the fat of your hips, gripping the flesh so hard there'd surely be bruises afterwards.

Without wasting any more time, he began to thrust into you, picking up the pace quickly, making made sure to hit as deep as he possibly could. You bit your lip, trying to conceal the lewd moans you wanted to let out. Scaramouche didn't like that though and a guttural groan was elicited from your mouth as it fell open when his fingers grabbed a clump of your hair, yanking your head back harshly. It felt like he was going to rip your locks out of your scalp and tears welled up in the corners of your eyes from the pain. However, it didn't stop moans and whines from spilling past your parted lips as the pain mixed with the pleasure of his cock head kissing your cervix with every jerk of his hips.

He cackled at the sight before him, tightening his grip as he spoke,"That's right! Don't hold back those slutty moans, let everyone hear how good I'm fucking this needy cunt of yours!" He made sure to keep your head pulled back so all the Harbingers could get an eyefull of your pathetic state, completely at his mercy. It wasn't long before you could feel an orgasm building up and it made you desperate, desperate for more,"Please! Mnngh— more! Nghh! G-give me more, master!" Scaramouche's eyes lit up at the sound of your begging and the hand in your hair finally let go, giving you momentary relief before grasping the end of the leash and giving it a hard tug which made you cry out and arch your back instinctively. He continued to maintain his grip on the leash, using it as leverage while he was pounding you,"Yes, Good girl...keep begging for master's cock to keep filling this pussy over and over."

The speed of his thrusts never faltered, the sound of skin slapping as well as your moans and his grunts filled the room. You were beginning to get close and it was apparent in the way your noises heightened in pitch and the way your pussy convulsed around his cock. Scaramouche took this as a sign to increase his pace, determined to make you squirt all over him right in front of everyone in the room. The incessant penetration was making your head spin, mind turning to mush with every time he grazed that one spot that made you see stars. The way his breathing grew more laboured as his thrusts became more animalistic signalled that he was getting close too.

The knot in your stomach tightened, you were on the edge. "Go on, cum for me. Let everyone see what a slut you are, creaming all over my cock." You didn't need to be told twice. Your body tensed and with a moan of ecstasy, you came, gushing all over his cock and creating a wet ring around the base. He groaned in approval and it seemed that was enough to send him over the edge too as moments later he finally spilled himself inside you, creating lewd squelching noises as he fucked you through both of your highs. Your releases mixed together in a puddle on the floor, creating a filthy mess that neither of you cared about.

Eventually, he finally slowed down till he stopped altogether. The both of you lay there for a few moments, panting heavily. All eyes were on you, drinking in your fucked out face as you tried to make sense of anything again. Scaramouche recovered much quicker than you though and pulled out slowly, relishing the sight of his cock leaving your gaping hole before wiping the mess on your thigh. After tucking himself away in his pants, he picked up the nearly- forgotten coat and draped it over your tired form. He used the leash to pull you up so he could carry you in his arms, bridal style.

Then he turned around and began exiting the room, leaving everyone in slight disbelief as he spoke in a monotonous voice,"Continue the meeting without me, I have more important things to take care of right now." Without saying much else, he left the room while holding you to his chest, not even bothering about the mess the both of you made.

#smut #x reader smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader smut #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x reader smut #✧･ﾟ:* meena's memos! ✧･ﾟ:*

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f1goat · 1 year ago

Text

more than friends + lando norris x part five

In which your best friend wants to help you so you get more sexual experience, but he discovers quickly that he never wants to share you and your new sexual experience with others.

masterlist - playlist

warnings: smut with a plot or a plot with smut? :) minors dni! i never proofread so probably grammar or spelling errors

requested: yes, based on: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things (ofc pretending for it to bot mean anything), while he’s actually in love with her

part one / part two / part three / part four

You can’t help yourself and stare at Lando, just like a lot of others are doing right now. He’s absolutely glowing and taking in the attention he’s getting. After his deleted lap time from yesterday, he came back stronger then ever. Right now he’s standing on the podium claiming his well deserved trophy for the second place in the race. You smile while staring at him. Podiums look good on him. Insanely good.

“You did so good!” You almost scream when Lando comes to you later day afternoon. He’s still glowing from his podium. You can smell the faint odor from the champagne. You wonder about kissing Lando, will you taste it then? Lando doesn’t talk at first, he just hugs you. You continue to praise him in the mean time.

“You know what this means, right baby?” Lando eventually whispers into your ear. You think back at his words from yesterday. Is he serious? “I want you to get into my drivers room, so I can get my celebration right after debriefing,” Lando tells you.

You feel your cheeks heating up and reddening. Fuck.

“Can you wait there for me babygirl?” Lando asks you. You can only nod as response, if you even knew what to say right now you’re sure the words would get lost on your tongue. Lando makes things even worse by pressing a kiss against your forehead. You wish you could feel his lips on yours right now, but you’re fully aware of all the cameras around you. Tomorrow - or maybe this afternoon already - you will see this fragment of your life all over your socials.

Lando walks away from you. You know what to do now. Lando was clear about his wishes, and who are you to deny them from him? Without giving it a second thought, you walk towards the McLaren motorhome. It’s not hard to get into Lando his drivers room, probably because everyone around you knows who you are. Instead of talking to the mechanics who are still here instead of getting ready to party, you walk directly towards Lando his drivers room. They let you.

In Lando his drivers room you suddenly start to feel a bit nervous. What does Lando expect from you? He made his wishes clear yesterday and today. Apparently he wants to eat you out? The thought alone makes you feel more nervous. Although you have no idea why. Lando is probably pretty good at it, so it will be more of a celebration for you then him. Right? Maybe it’s the thought of Lando coming this close to your private parts. What if they don’t look good enough? You try to shake off those thoughts.

You know that a debrief can cost some time, so you try to kill the time by scrolling on your socials. You like every post about Lando his podium. When you see a notification from Lando popping up on your screen, you almost drop your phone on the floor. Is he serious?

Lando: 5 minutes babe

Lando: maybe you can already lose some clothes ;)

The thought of waiting for Lando while being in your lingerie only - or maybe even naked, makes you feel all kind of things. Your stomach is tightening by only the thought already. You don’t even realize that you’re already kicking of your sneakers. It feels like everything is happening on some sort of automatic pilot. You don’t even think about the possibility of other people walking in to this room. Even though the possibility is kinda high. You don’t care about things like that right now. In no time is the floor covered in the clothes you were wearing earlier. The only thing left on your body is your lingerie. It’s a black set, nothing to exciting, but it does look nice. You doubt a bit if you want to keep it on or off. Eventually you decide to take it off as well.

Thank god for the warm weather today, because you’re already shivering from only the thought that Lando can come in any second. It feels weird to wait here for him while being naked. You realize that Lando never saw you naked before. All the cons are weighting up, but you can’t stop thinking about Lando finding you like this. Will this be what he expected? Or will this be a surprise for him?

When the door opens you start to feel extremely aware of your surroundings and your own bareness. You’re relieved when you see that Lando is the one to open the door. He is quick to close the door when he sees you waiting for him. After that he’s even quicker to get towards you.

Lando can’t tear his eyes away from you. He realizes that he’s staring and that there’s a chance that it makes you feel uncomfortable right now. But he really can’t look away from you. He never saw you like this before. All the things that happened between the two of you before, happened with you in clothes. He can’t say he didn’t imagine about your body before, but in some way it’s even more beautiful then he already thought. He lets his gaze go over every small detail of your body.

He looks at your breasts and notices the way your nipples resemble small pebbles. He wants nothing more then to shower them in kisses right now. He wants to take your nipple into his mouth until he felt the hardness of it on his tongue, only to switch over to your other nipple after that. He lets his stare slide towards your most private part. You’re sitting with your legs crossed over each other, causing him to imagine the way your pussy will look.

It can’t be right that you’re without a doubt the girl who has the most impact on him. Seeing you like this has made him rock hard in only seconds. His dick is throbbing painfully. He remembers himself that this is about you - and not about him. You’re the most beautiful girl he has ever seen, with and without clothes.

You feel uncomfortable when Lando doesn’t say anything. Was it a mistake to undress this far already? When you start to think about questioning him about it, Lando lets out a soft sound. You look at him. Lando is still taking in your body. You notice that he’s looking at you full with adoration, or are you making that up?

Lando comes closer and closer to you. When he’s finally close enough, he eagerly puts his mouth onto your lips. He gives you a soft peck on the lips before moving the two of you towards the couch in the drivers room. Lando pulls you onto his lap, instead of normally this time he makes sure you face him. He doesn’t want your body to get out of his sight right now.

He presses a kiss against your neck. “Fucking hell babygirl,” he finally mutters. Then he presses another kiss against your body, this time it’s to your collarbone. “I didn’t expect to walk into you being naked already,” Lando continues to say to you, “Such a beautiful surprise,” he adds before pressing his lips against your body again. He presses multiple kisses against your body, at first closely to your collarbone again but after a bit he moves his lips down. He’s getting close to your breasts.

You’re already trembling under Lando his touch. Lando grunts. “Can I touch you babygirl?” He asks you. You’re quick to tell him yes. Lando takes on of your breasts into his hand, he kneads it while looking at you.

“You’re such a good girl,” he tells you.

Your stomach tightens. You feel your cheeks reddening. Why are those small words doing so much to you? You’re glad that Lando isn’t paying attention to your face, because you’re sure that it’s reddish from blushing this much. Lando is busy paying attention to your breasts. He lowers his face to get closer to your tits. He is still kneading on of them. You almost jump up when you feel his lips against the other tit. He presses soft kisses against it, before sucking on the skin. You quietly follow Lando his movements with your eyes. It doesn’t take him long before pressing a kiss against your hardened nipple. After that he takes your nipple inside his mouth. Softly you feel him suck onto it.

When Lando pulls back, you let out a soft whimper. Lando switches his movements. He moves his hand away from your breast, to put it back onto the other one. He presses kisses against your tit that he was kneading earlier. Before you realize it, your other nipple is in his mouth.

It surprises you when you feel your pussy clenching. It amazes you that you even start to feel that you’re getting pretty wet. Lando his mouth is doing all kind of things to you, but you can’t complain about one tiny part of it.

Lando removes his lips and hand from your breasts again. This time he moves his hands downwards, he is quick to get close to your private parts. It annoys you when he doesn’t touch you where you need him, but keeps a bit above of the place. Suddenly without realizing it, you let out a soft whine.

“What’s wrong babygirl?” Lando asks you. You notice the small smirk on his face. It makes you realize that he’s doing this on purpose. What a tease. You can’t tell him that, every word that leaves your mouth is begging Lando to do something about the way you’re feeling.

“I need you,” you softly whimper.

Lando lets out a low groan. Fuck, what you just told him makes him even harder. That’s actually insane. He moves his hands away from your vagina even further. He softly lifts you up and puts you next to himself onto the couch. Only to get of the couch himself after that. He takes your legs into his hands. Slowly he spreads your legs for him.

You look at Lando. He doesn’t look back at you. All his attention is onto your slit. Before you can feel uncomfortable about it, Lando starts to shower you with compliments about it.

“Such a pretty pussy,” Lando tells you with a low voice. He lets his hand slide around it carefully. He makes sure that he isn’t already touching your clit or entrance, he focuses himself onto your lips. He enjoys teasing you a bit. This is his celebration after all, right? He looks at the frustrated emotions that you’re displaying on your face. He realizes that you really need him. Lando never wants you to need anyone else.

He softly spreads your lips a bit with his hands.

“So beautiful,” he continues to tell you.

This time he slides his finger through your slit. It surprises him how wet you’re already are. He coats his finger in your slick.

“So wet already,” he murmurs to you.

He presses a soft kiss against the inside of your thighs.

“Is that all for me babygirl?” He asks you.

“Yes,” you tell him eagerly.

“Who’s the one who made you this wet?” Lando continues to ask you. He needs to hear you say it. He needs to hear it that this is all because of him.

“You Lando,” you softly confess, “It’s all for you.”

Lando lets out a soft moan after hearing your words. He presses a few more kisses against your thighs. He moves a bit closer to your pussy, but makes sure that he isn’t coming closer then your lips. You let out a frustrated whine.

“I need more Lando,” you tell Lando a bit ashamed.

Lando presses a soft kiss against your clit this time. He’s quick to move away from it after making his move.

“More,” you whimper.

Lando grins. He softly slides his finger over your clit a couple times, but makes sure that it’s not enough. He presses more kisses against your inner thighs. Suddenly he starts to think about you begging him. The thought is making him even harder. He looks at you. How hot would it be if you ask him to lick you?

“What do you need baby?” Lando asks you.

He makes sure that his finger is laying dangerously close to your clit right now. Almost onto it, but still a bit too far away.

“You,” you whimper.

“No, no,” Lando tuts, “I asked you, what do you need? What do you want me to do babygirl?”

You stay silent for a bit. Lando moves his finger even closer to your clit. Softly he touches it. It makes you tremble under his touch. It’s unfair what he’s doing to you. It’s even more unfair how fast he can make you feel like this. For a few seconds you wonder if anyone else can make you ever feels like this, you highly doubt it.

“If you don’t tell me baby, I can’t make you feel any better,” Lando teases you.

“Fuck,” you groan, “Tease.”

“Just tell me babygirl,” Lando continues to tease you.

“I want you to, fuck,” you stutter, “I want you to lick me.”

Lando doesn’t reply verbally anymore. He presses a soft kiss against your clit before starting to do what you asked from him. Slowly he licks around your pussy. He makes sure to lick every tiny part of it, before coming back to your clit. He presses another kiss against it, before using soft licks onto it. He makes sure that he’s not going to fast, but also not to slow. He wants you to enjoy this as much as he’s enjoying it right now. He increases his pace a bit after hearing you letting out multiple moans.

In the mean time he slides his finger around your slit. He slowly brings it to your entrance, but doesn’t push it inside. Yet. Lando knows it’s teasing and maybe even a bit mean, but he needs to hear you beg even more for him right now. He has fallen in love with the desperate voice you used earlier with him. He wants to know that he’s the one who makes you feel like this and that you need him to come.

You buck your hips. Hopefully Lando gets the hint. You want his finger inside of you. Maybe even more then one now that you think of it. Lando doesn’t response to your movement. You open your eyes to look at him. To your surprise he’s already looking back at you. Before speaking up, you admire the way he looks between your legs.

He’s still making short licks onto your clitoris. Sometimes he switches and licks around your whole slit. But the things he’s doing to your clit right now, are the things that feel the best. Although, you can use a bit more.

“More,” you softly say.

“More?” Lando asks you. You let out a soft whimper when he removes his mouth from your pussy. He looks at you. His finger replaces the movements his tongue made earlier. It still feels good, but not as good as before.

“Please,” you beg Lando.

“Tell me what you want baby,” Lando states. He increases his pace with his finger. He likes looking at you while you look like this. You’re shaking underneath his touch. Moans are falling out your mouth like they’re your new language. Lando wishes he could save this memory so he could look back at it to see all the small details, again and again. His cock is throbbing even more painfully then before. He needs release as well.

“How longer you take, how longer you will miss my tongue onto your pussy,” Lando tells you. He hears a soft whine leaving your lips.

“I need your fingers,” you eventually confess.

“Ask me,” Lando tells you sternly. He can’t help himself. He has fallen in love with your pleads.

“Can you finger me?” You ask Lando softly with red cheeks, before Lando can say anything you add another word. “Please Lan?”

His boner almost explodes when hearing the soft please Lan coming from your lips. He doesn’t say anything anymore, he’s quick to move his lips back to your clit and to move his fingers to your entrance again. This time he licks your clit even faster. He hears moans coming from you. Is it bad that he’s getting addicted to that sound? He realizes that he wants to hear you like this forever. No one else should ever hear you like this he even thinks.

Lando pushes one of his fingers softly inside of you. He feels your walls clenching around his finger. Easily he pushes in and out of your pussy. It doesn’t take him long before using another finger. He starts to finger fuck you with two of his fingers. In the mean time he focusses on eating you out. He softly sucks onto you clit. It makes you almost scream.

“Lan,” you loudly moan when he sucks a bit harder onto your clit.

He doesn’t response verbally, he just keeps increasing his pace. Waiting for you to come. Your walls are starting to clench even more around his fingers. Lando feels how your clit is starting to throb inside his mouth. You feel your stomach tighten. Moans keep coming out of your mouth. You can’t stop yourself.

“I’m close,” you tell Lando. He reacts by sucking harder on your clit. He moves his fingers faster inside of you. He notices a soft spongy spot inside of you and gives it all his attention from now on. You let out a hard moan.

“Can I come?” You suddenly ask Lando.

He’s overwhelmed by your question. Fuck. It’s insane how it feels that you’re asking him for permission to come. In the mean time you have more trouble with holding back your orgasm. You feel waves of pleasure hitting over you.

“Lan?” You quickly ask.

Lando removes his lips from your clit for a couple seconds. No longer then necessary. “Of course babygirl,” he tells you before sucking harshly onto your clit again. He repeats his movements from earlier, but his eyes are focused on your face. He looks at the way you close your eyes when the first waves of your orgasm are washing over you. He notices the way your lips are partly open, only to let out a couple of soft moans. When you press your legs closer together, Lando stops his movements and pulls back. He doesn’t want to overstimulate you. At least, not today. It would be a nice thing to do in the future.

Lando waits for you to say something. In the mean time he sucks your slit of his own fingers. He takes place next to you on the couch. You quickly lay down against him.

“Fuck,” you mutter, “that was really good.”

“Glad that you liked it,” Lando replies with a small grin. His cock is still throbbing inside of his racesuit. “You tasted better then that champagne,” Lando tells you. You let out a laugh. Without thinking about it you press a kiss against Lando his lips, he is quick to turn it into more. When his tongue slides into your mouth, you taste the faint taste of yourself on his tongue.

“Do you want me to do something for you as well?” You ask Lando softly.

“I wished,” Lando grunts, “but we have a dinner and a party to get ready for.”

“Maybe later tonight?” You suggest.

“I like the way you’re thinking babygirl,” Lando replies to you.

“I just want to feel your lips on my clit again,” you confess laughingly.

“Next time I won’t stop after your orgasm.”

“You think I can come more then once?” You ask surprised.

“You can add a lesson about overstimulation to the teaching plan babe,” Lando tells you jokingly, but none of his words are a joke. He wants to spend a whole evening between your legs and pull everything orgasm out of you that you have.

part six

this is my favorite part so far :)) hope everyone liked it!

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