#glad to see someone else knows what runs through my head
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One Year of 0cta9on
Hello everyone! :]
Today marks exactly a year since I debuted as a writer! In an ideal world, I would’ve had some crazy story planned for today, but my current circumstances didn’t allow for that, so enjoy this semi-sappy yap session instead :>
I started writing during a particularly low point in my life where my mental health was in the gutters and I had an insane amount of free time. I’ve always liked imagining stories in my head, so the next obvious step was to start writing those stories down. Hence, 0cta9on was born :]
Channeling my energy into something creative provided me with a distraction from all the things that weighed on my mind and become a source of joy for me. While I know I’m not the best or most well-known writer in this community, seeing even a single comment on my work fills me with such an unexplainable amount of joy. To know that there’s people out there that enjoy the silly little stories I put out is genuinely insane in the best way possible <3
Since I’m mainly a fluff writer, I wasn’t sure what other writers in this community would think of me. But my worries were almost immediately quelled when I first joined the writer discord and became friends with a bunch of amazingly talented writers. Shout out to @msafterhours, @writerpeach, @octoberautumnbox, @gangplanksorenji, @prael, @kooyabooya, @okaylikeschaewon, @mintwithchoco, @defmaybe, @sinswithpleasure, @midnightdancingsol, @capslocked, @svndaysaweek, @usedpidemo, and of course many, many more for being so kind and welcoming <3
Recap of my past year of writing:
Wrote 8 chapters of Unlikely Duet, my cute little slice-of-life romance series starring best girl, Minji <3 Chapter 8 is the longest piece I’ve written so far at +18k words!
First Snow was the first fluff one shot I made. Rough around the edges, but we all start somewhere.
Beach Day and Good Idea were my first attempts at writing smut and they are… alright, I guess :> Part of me wants to go back and revise them, but I barely have the time and motivation to work on new drafts ;[
Masterpiece is still probably my favorite fluff one shot I’ve written so far, and while it’s not the best written by any means, I still really like how it turned out :]
FFF2+4 and Train Ride to Heaven for me marked the start of when I started becoming more comfortable writing smut. I’m still not that great, but it’s fun and I think that’s all that counts for me :]
Stuck with You was the first commission I ever did! Writing someone else’s idea is always difficult, but I’m glad the buyer liked the final product :]
Stroke of Luck was the first time I ever wrote a threesome. I think it went okay :>
Wrote And We Danced and Sunscreen for a fun prompt challenge hosted in the writer’s discord (You can thank @mintwithchoco and @msafterhours for these <3). The latter ended up turning into a quaint little mini series :]
Lessons was my second ever commission and my first attempt at femdom. While femdom isn’t really my thing, it was a fun challenge writing about something new and I really like the little gimmick I threw in there :]
I wrote Today, like, two days ago at 1am without much revising or editing (Shoutout @defmaybe for reading through it before I released <3). Go read it if you haven’t yet pls n thenk yew :>
Wrote 15 shorts from ideas submitted by you guys! Some of my favorite stories I’ve written have been shorts and they’re always nice when I’m low on ideas :]
While I likely won’t have anything out for a while, I think it’d be fun to pull back the curtain a little bit and hint at what I’ve been working on :]
🐰🦋// She’s just your coworker. Just that. Nothing else.
🐻👖// It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this?!
🍁✨// Upcoming New Variety Show: Fan Date! Episode 1, starring [REDACTED]
🍔🧀// Time changes, but summer stays the same
I’ve run out of things to talk about, so this concludes my one year anniversary post :> Despite my unplanned and prolonged hiatus, I want y’all to know that I do NOT plan on retiring anytime soon. I have so many stories I still want to tell, whether you like it or not >:]
Have a good day/night and I love yall <3 Have a Minji :]
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I was at a cute little poetry circle recently, and I read a poem of mine inspired by my favorite poem. "Batter My Heart, Transgender’d God" by Meg Day (I'll put that poem under the cut). Someone then turned to me and asked if my "Batter My Heart" was the inspiration for it. Apparently they're the one who introduced the poem to the person who introduced me to it
Batter My Heart, Transgender’d God by Meg Day:
Batter my heart, transgender’d god, for yours
is the only ear that hears: place fear in my heart
where faith has grown my senses dull & reassures
my blood that it will never spill. Show every part
to every stranger’s anger, surprise them with my drawers
full up of maps that lead to vacancies & chart
the distance from my pride, my core. Terror, do not depart
but nest in the hollows of my loins & keep me on all fours.
My knees, bring me to them; force my head to bow again.
Replay the murders of my kin until my mind’s made new;
let Adam’s bite obstruct my breath ’til I respire men
& press his rib against my throat until my lips turn blue.
You, O duo, O twin, whose likeness is kind: unwind my confidence
& noose it round your fist so I might know you in vivid impermanence.
#idk I just thought this was silly and neat#glad to see someone else knows what runs through my head#obsessed with this poem tbh#The whole poetry circle was such a sweet and fun thing ngl#What if I just confessed my undying love#I got to see a bunch of people I haven't had a chance to be around in Months as well#One person made cupcakes themed around Wild Geese by Mary Oliver#I think I ate cupcakes that said 'wild geese head home' and 'the world offers itself'#Who is your favorite poet?#trans#transgender#Poetry#poems#poetry circle#My poem is about being queer but not specifically trans#I'm planning to submit it to a literary magazine soon so we'll see how that goes#lgbt#lgbtq#Meg Day#Batter My Heart Transgender’d God#queer#I'm poem#Great use of 3+ hours on a Sunday#I nearly cried on my way back home because I was just so overwhelmingly happy#I love you all to Fragments
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ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ
gojo satoru rarely takes his glasses off. in his own world of infinity, you suppose real life is somewhat boring.
you couldn't be more wrong.
you're sitting across from gojo, a jacuzzi separating you. he has dipped his feet into the pool of clear water, the ripples cascading to your legs. noticing them, he looks up.
the first thing he thinks is woah.
the sight of you in a bathing suit stuns him temporarily, his heart clattering faster. but he musters up a cocky smile before strolling forward, putting on his black sunglasses, imitating one of those old men in sunnies staring down at you.
"arrived early, did we?"
you hum, craning your head up. your hand finds his neck, pulling his lips onto yours with a smile.
"you got me." your fingers catch his lightless specs and pull them from his ears. "let me see you."
you don't know what you're doing to him right now. he chuckles, rubbing his nape with a hint of awkwardness, when all he wants to do is take you in right there. he's never been in a relationship before, so he doesn't know if he can check you out so freely.
"you miss me so much?" he teases, though on the inside he's screaming.
goddammit, why did you take his glasses? he forces his gaze on your face- breathtaking, yes, but hardly the only thing that's begging his attention. he tries to keep his stare minimal, yet his lips part unconsciously. he stares at the only partial alternative to satiating his want: your lips.
noticing your boyfriend's gaze, a devilish idea pops into your head.
after geto and shoko arrive, the four of you talk casually in the relaxing hot water. gojo resumes his usual cocky self. an hour or so passes before you decide to switch to the living room.
"gojo, do you know where's the bathroom? i wanna shower."
wet feet plopping in tow through the winding hallways, you feel his gaze boring into the back of your skull. but as you enter, he stops by the door. you turn around, feigning oblivious.
"can you grab me a towel?"
ever eager to please, gojo quickly strides down the hallway for a towel, while you strip and enter the shower. when he comes back, listening to the sound of water, he waits by the door.
"gojo, pass the towel," you call.
he's so glad you don't have the six eyes right now, because he can feel his cursed energy spiralling. "w-what?"
"i said, pass me the towel."
his eyes widen. hovering over the doorknob, he swallows his other thoughts, shuffling into the bathroom, one feet after another, gaze pasted onto the floor.
your hand comes out, waving as though you have no idea where he is. he shoves the object into your hand before you step out, towel wrapped around you. with that, he immediately turns to leave, but not before noticing the devious little smile on your lips, possibly from his reaction.
fuck him, he thinks.
suddenly fingers enclose on his wrist, his limitless shut off from the distraction.
"can you dry my hair?" you say, polite, and in that soft tone you know he can't say no to.
his hands stagger over your head, gripping another towel, drying this part then the next. clunky. he's never touched someone else much before, and it shows.
what entertains you most, however, is the way he's forcing his eyes on his hand and nowhere else, focusing like it's his lifetime.
"done," he mumbles.
at last, you look up at him. he's wearing an uncharacteristically stern face, clearly holding himself back.
you ask, "do you want to say something?"
fuck. him. he lets out a shallow breath. how could you stand there batting your lashes like nothing's wrong, when you're making his hands run over you, yet not in the way he wants to.
"you demon woman. you know what you're doing."
you appear to be pondering, too, what you might be thinking. one of your hands tap at his chest, the space above his heart.
"tell me. what am i doing?"
his hand holds yours, keeping it against him. "you're tempting me."
you tilt your head to the side and you swear, he chokes a little. "and who's holding back, hmmm?"
...
2 years later
"gojo satoru, where have you put my towel??" your voice screeches from the shower.
leaning beside the bathroom door, the most annoyingly handsome man croons, "i've got it right here."
"give it to me. right now."
he shakes his head to himself. you still haven't learnt your lesson, it seems. he saunters over to the shower with the fluffy white towel in his grip. your hand pokes out. he clicks his tongue.
"baby, come on out."
an automatic groan claws its way from your throat and he chuckles, finding part of your unspoken shyness endearing.
"it's nothing that i haven't seen before," he adds, as though that'll make it better.
you feel your cheeks grow hot even with the excess steam. you know if he wanted to, he could step right into the shower and join you, but satoru seems to be in a lighter mood today.
regardless, you don't anticipate the effortless way the towel encases you as you step out. he wraps the cloth around you with care, the motion simultaneously tugging you closer to him. you let out a small gasp in comfort. to that, he snickers quietly by your ear, which provokes a half scowl from you. you look like a bunny in that oversized thing.
you mutter under your breath, "how did i get stuck with you..?"
he hums in response. "you're just too lucky."
he uses another towel to dry your hair. a thought courses through your brain- it's not like it matters much, but gojo satoru is really good at what he does. once he has experience in something, it's like the talent in his body simply activates, and the smooth sensation on your scalp dissipates.
this time, however, he doesn't announce his completion. instead, he tugs you casually against his chest. his hand skilfully cups your jaw, holding your gaze against his.
it's unfair, how the sight of his blue eyes send a seering level of need into your system. your hands find his shoulders to steady yourself and the towel begins to fall.
"wanna see you," he says, his stare roaming over you, unabashedly ravenous.
and finally, with experience, he does.
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#gojo saturo#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu gojo#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk#gojo x you
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now playing . . . cowboy by tyler the creator 𓈒⠀ ✧
⠀⠀⠀⠀𝅄⠀⠀ㅤׂ ⠀warnings / smut, cheating, random ass boyfriend called josh, reader is wearing a skirt, oral (m!receiving), p in v, public kinda (they're outside in the garden), unprotected sex (idk no mattlings running around yetzies)
⠀⠀⠀⠀𝅄⠀⠀ㅤׂ ⠀word count / lots of words like over 2k probably ??
⠀⠀⠀⠀𝅄⠀⠀ㅤׂ ⠀author's note / i got so carried away this was supposed 2 be a drabble LMFAOOO have fun w this :3
"THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND. YOU STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER, ALRIGHT?" is what he was told, the moment he met you.
and he listened. he really tried to. until he couldn't anymore. until he had you pinned against the wall of his friend's house, creaming on his dick. it sounds insane, it probably was, but matt was a man pushed to his last straw with a very pretty girl at the end of it. you can't blame him for that, even if it does sound cruel. to be honest, his initial resilience and resistance of temptation should've been a dead giveaway to the way he would fall into the claws of desire so hard.
matt didn't think much when he heard that josh had gotten a girlfriend. he was happy for his friend, glad that he'd found someone. he didn't expect you to be drop dead fucking gorgeous. to be so pretty. he had to do a double take when he first saw you, absolutely stunned. josh wasn't that bad looking, no, but.. to pull a girl like you was a massive feat for anyone. you're like, so fitting for josh. but at the same time, that makes you fitting for matt. of course you are.
he's fully aware of how he stared at you the first time he saw you, which caused josh to say—"that's my girlfriend. you stay the fuck away from her, alright?"—bringing him out from the daze of lewd thoughts and inappropriate positions his brain had already put you in. was he a shit friend? probably.
this resulted in matt having a bit of a staring problem as you'd called it. it wasn't creepy or anything, it was actually appreciated and polite. albeit very much loaded. it was like you knew he was head over heels for you and decided to dangle your affection infront of him in some form of torture. it was not fair how he had to hide his boner around you. absolutely torture.
he couldn't hang out with josh like he used to simply because of your presence. and you fucking knew it too, you tease. it was your favourite thing to wear the tiniest clothes around him or simply bat your lashes and giggle in the most adorable way. matt was pretty sure you wanted him dead, just from how amazing you were. once again, at a party held at josh's place, he's day dreaming a little taking you in. his blue eyes flicker over you, he swallows thickly, glancing down at the soda he had in his hands. he'd barely drank any of it, if any. too distracted by your presence.
trying to focus his attention on something else, he glances away from you, focusing his attention on some other girls dancing together. they want his attention, you just.. capture his attention without even trying. until you actually did try to get his attention, flashing him that soft little smile when your eyes met his. he has to practically force his jaw shut after it drops at the sight of you. he's so whipped for his friend's girlfriend.
matt curses himself for the way he glances away like a little kid when you meet his gaze, and he knows you most definitely saw it. he swallows hard, trying to focus on somerhing but you once more. it becomes impossible when he feels a presence which he knows is most definitely you beside him. his mouth goes dry.
"hi, matt," you say, all coy, like you don't know the exact effect you have on him. matt glances up at you, trying not to seem as awkward as he feels. his lashes flutter as he tries ro come up with a response that feels chill, not.. insane. "hey," he settles on—it's simple, casual. doesn't betray the thoughts in his head.
the smile on your glossy lips only grows at that. it's like you can see directly through him into his soul. your eyes rake over him for a moment, as you consider what to say, "you havin' fun?" you watch him, waiting for a response even if you know exactly how he's feeling. matt goes quiet, brain whirling once more in an attempt to seem normal. "sure," he starts, "just.. y'know.." great job, matt. he seems so normal, right? great.
the laugh you let out at his response has his gut tightening along with his jeans, and he swears he can feel his heart in his throat for a moment. matt runs his fingers through his hair, playing with his rings in a nervous movement. "y'know?" your words are soft, curious, as if coaxing him to continue. he really doesn't want to, but he does, anyway.
"uh," matt scratches the back of his neck, an awkward chuckle slipping past his lips. you don't think its awkward at all, no, you think it's adorable. endearing. he's adorable. "a little bored, i guess, but.. never really been much of a party guy," his blue eyes meet yours again and the intensity, the tension, makes him glance away once more. you laugh again, making his cheeks flush.
"bored? here? m'surprised, everyone's like.. having the time of their lives," you're not wrong—everyone is having the time of their lives.
"i could think of plenty of other things that would constitute as the time of my life, this isn't one of 'em," matt snarks playfully, finding himself comfortable with you almost instantly. you have this vibe, this comfortable aura that makes people relax and chill out. trustworthy, in a way. "i get it, don't worry. besides the dancing and people and.. things, it's not that entertaining." he can agree with that, and he nods, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he leans back against the wall.
this allows him a moment to take you in. he shouldn't have done that. that once over only made his thoughts about you worse. horrifically worse, oh god. matt glanced at the ceiling as if the faint stain on it was interesting. it wasn't. he'd much rather leave stains with you on some sheets. even he cringed at his own thoughts. "come outside with me," you offer after a moment. everything about you oozes innocent but matt can't help but think you're anything but. he thinks about josh and swallows, mumbling, "i don't think josh would like that very much."
"he's not here right now, is he?" you remember very vividly josh had gone out to grab some drinks for the party with another friend of his, having headed to the convenience store near his house. which left you with free reign of the party, and the chance to do whatever you fucking pleased. and you wanted to do matt. the obvious answer.
matt's a tiny bit stunned by your words and he blinks slowly, processing for a minute before his brain catches up and he nods quickly, pushing off of the wall with an eagerness he's embarassed at. "you're right," he starts, "yeah, okay," he nods towards the door leading outside to the back garden with the hot tub and such. he's a tiny bit nervous you're playing with him, to go back and tell josh what he's doing, however you seem just as into this as he is, and he nods once more.
he takes the lead, glancing back frequently to check you're still there. you are, thankfully, and he gains a tiny bit more confidence. "you look nice," he murmurs, quiet, so if you didn't hear him he wouldn't have to repeat himself. you did hear him, however, and you feel flush at that. that soft smile only grows more, "thank you. can say the same," matt laughs softly, glancing away bashfully. he holds the door for you, delighting in the way your soft body brushes against his. he wants to feel more. wants to feel you under him, above him, around him.
it's cool outside, an easy breeze that contrasts to the warm heat of bodies within the house. you visibly relax which makes him relax too. he's quiet, you're quiet, the two of you making your way to a quiet part of the garden. it's sort of an alley, the bit between the back gate and the house itself. he likes how private it is. "so," matt starts, "so," you respond in return. it's not an awkward silence, but gentle. he laughs softly, he doesn't even know why. you're just so pretty it makes him giddy. and he says it. "you look so pretty."
"you think i look pretty?" you know you look pretty. when don't you?
"uh-huh," he nods, gently. "real pretty," he swallows hard. you overwhelm him. "sometimes i think—" he shouldn't go down that rabbit hole, especially not infront of you.
but he'd already gone too far, you'd heard him. "you think what?" you're always so attentive and inquisitive, he hates it. not really, he adores it, but sometimes he wishes you'd let things slide more often. matt curses under his breath, blue eyes soft.
"sometimes i think about if you were mine," matt's voice is quiet, almost scared as to how you'll react. he thinks you'll flip out at him, slap him, call him insane. but you don't, a soft looking appearing in your eyes. you look at matt with this gentle curiosity that coaxes him into saying more; "because you're.. you're just so gorgeous, and sweet, and funny, and you smile at me when i'm having the shittest days ever and i just fucking wish you weren't with josh because god, i'd make you feel so good, baby," he doesn't think twice about calling you baby and you don't think twice about how good you feel when he says that.
"now you're just begging me to kiss you," your tone is playfully soft, and matt looks a tiny bit weary, like he's scared you're joking. his plush lips are parted, soft puffs of air slipping past, "kiss me?" he asks gently, blue eyes innocent in how surprised he is. you want to kiss him?
you decide to answer without words, gently grasping at his hoodie and drawing him in for a gentle kiss. your lips meet, a soft groan slipping past matt's lips almost instantly. his hands hover around your waist, as he's scared to touch you, like he doesn't deserve to, so you gently mumble against him, "you can touch me," just to make it crystal clear you're okay with this. his lips are soft, gentle, his mouth tasting faintly like the soda he'd been drinking and a faint vanilla lip balm that made his lips so plush. your lips are equally soft, the glitter of your lip-gloss transferring to his lips and leaving a glittery sheen on them.
matt lets out a soft whine when your lips have to come off eachother, to simply get air. fuck air, he thinks to himself, but he doesn't say it outloud. "josh," he says gently, his brain immediately thinking to the worst scenario. you, however, don't look fussed. "what about him?" your relaxed demeanour and absolutely no worry in your gait makes his cheeks flush more, but also a confidence grow within him. he quickly grasps at your hips and brings you into him, thumbs stroking over the fabric of your skirt.
"nothing," he says quietly, practically breathing you in. the smell of your perfume made him dizzy. he wanted to suffocate in it. god, if you heard his thoughts.. "no—nothing about him," he slides his hands over your sides, and he's trying to resist the urge to grope at your body. "nothing, ma," he wants to kiss you again. "can i kiss you again?"
"mhm," you hum gently, preening into his touch with your eyes lifting up to his. your smile only grows, a giggle slipping past your lips once more. "i suppose so." matt eagerly slips his hand down to your ass, grasping gently to tug you impossibly closer before he presses his lips to yours again. his tongue brushes yours, and you eagerly reciprocate it again. as he grasps at your ass, your hands slide to his arms and hold yourself against him.
"god, you're so pretty," he murmurs against your lips, whimpering the words out gently. you slide your hands up and down his arms, making a shiver flutter down his spine a little. "s'not fair, how come he gets you?" his voice is whiny, like he really can't believe that you're his, even if he wants you so bad.
you raise your brows, "you're getting me right now." your words are a soft reminder, that he shouldn't think about his bestfriend, your boyfriend at this very moment. matt practically melts the moment you drop to your knees infront of him. he glances around frantically for a second as if josh is gonna pop out of a bush or something. this feels like a dream, like it's not real, but your fingers tugging on the zip of his jeans was very much real.
"are you not uncomfortable?" of course that's what he's worried about. your comfort. it's adorable how his blue eyes search yours to find any hesitation. he doesn't find any.
"m'fine, don't worry yourself 'bout it, matt," he's dreamed of this before. woken up with his boxers sticky at the thought of you on your knees for him. he swallows thickly, "okay," he breathes out, sounding a little on edge.
matt whines under his breath when you tug at the zip, his chest rising and falling in gentle breaths whilst he watched you. the cold air hits his thighs when you manage to tug down the denim previously covering him, and he lets out a nervous little laugh. "oh my god," he mumbles, he'd never thought he'd have you like this. your fingers brush his legs, making him practically buckle at the knees. "you don't have to, i mean—" he'd fully planned on being the one to make you feel good, but from how eagerly you're tugging at his boxers, he's pretty sure he'll get to wait.
"i want to, though," there's such certainty in your voice. it's attractive.
he swallows thickly when he feels you tug down his boxers, a quiet yelp slips past his lips. his tip leaks precum, clearly having been doing so for a while now considering the stain on the front of his boxers. matt would feel embarassed if it wasn't for how badly he wants to fuck your throat till you cry, pretty tears on your cheeks. he's so hard, it almost hurts. "you look so good," he mumbles quietly, "oh, god."
your eyes flutter over him, taking in the sight of his cock appraisingly. "says you," matt blushes instantly at your words, "me? pretty? that's just because my dick's out, isn't it?"
"that too," you shrug, running your fingers up over his thigh. the touch is light, and you realise you like touching him a lot. the faint shiver in his leg, the way he watches you so attentively at every tiny movement—you feel wanted. so, so wanted. more than josh ever made you feel. he instinctively pumps his hand on his cock, a pitiful whine slipping past him as his head tilts back a little. he hasn't even been touched yet, and he's yours. he thumbs his slit for a moment, coaxing more precum to drip. smearing it over the swollen head, he gently guides it to your mouth, watching as the tip pushed against your plush lips. "is this okay? do you—is this.." matt doesn't know why he's so nervous. he'd been with plenty of girls before so this isn't anything different, but it is. you're amazing.
"you're worried," you start, "but i wanna make you feel good," words mumbled against his tip, you leave little kisses as you speak—"let me," you say softly, watching as he strokes his cock once more. matt's hesitant for another moment, scared of making you uncomfortable, before he decides to let go of those fears and just go for it. his hand slides to the back of your head, cradling as he tugs your mouth onto him, watching your plush lips stretch to accommodate his girth. the sight is gorgeous, a gasp escaping him as he watches you.
"holy shit," he's gentle with you, wanting to worship the land you walk on in this very moment. your pretty eyes on his as you gag around him a little, grasping at his thighs to steady yourself. your lips leave a little gloss imprint on him, a quiet giggle coming from him at that. but he's also giddy about how warm your mouth feels around him, and the urge to just start thrusting his hips is palpable. "you feel so.." his hips move in gentle, shallow thrusts, trying not to go too far. you moan around him, a pretty sound which makes him whimper again.
your lashes fluttering as you swirl your tongue around the tip, making a mess of him as your drool runs in globs down the sides of his cock. he likes the way you struggle a little, but his head's fuzzy at how good you make him feel. "so, so good, ah, ah—" matt makes the prettiest noises, eyes squeezing shut the moment he starts rutting his hips against you, bullying his dick further down your throat. "fuck, fuck, shit.. like that.." he mumbles under his breath, hands drawing you closer by the back of your head.
it doesn't help the way you start to bob your head, his thighs tensing beneath your touch as he whines, "so.. fuck.. makin' me feel so good, baby, uh-huh," you have to breathe through your nose to take him as deep as you want, which is deeper than matt had anticipated. not that he was complaining. you felt so good, your mouth so warm and wet around him. more precum leaks from his tip at your motions, and you swallow for a moment slowly, the salty taste making you moan around him.
that makes his thighs tense once more, a quiet whimper bubbling from his throat before it drops into a guttural moan, his hips stuttering as he grunted out, "gonna cum, shit.. mmh, gonna—gonna cum," thick, white ropes of cum spurt as he lets go, warming your throat and painting its surface. he holds you close still, even as you swallow down his load, his chest rising and falling in quick breaths.
he looks so pretty like this—all blissed out and weightless from how good you'd just made him feel. his lashes flutter, blue eyes now on yours as his eyes open, and he stammers out quickly, "i'm so sorry, i didn't ask, i just assumed that.. that—"
"it's okay, hey," you liked everything he was doing. it felt good. you enjoyed swallowing whatever he gave you, it wasn't like you weren't enjoying yourself. the awkward way in which he handled his feelings towards you made your heart warm, a soft, nervous smile playing on his plush, pink lips now. "yeah?" he asks gently, swallowing hard. he's got an idea, brewing in his head. "okay. uhm, here, uh.."
he glances down at himself, embarassed at how hard he still is despite the fact he'd just came down your throat. but he's got a plan to fix that, as his hands slip down to help you back up. "here.." he mumbles, a little clumsy in how he handles you but it's still way more.. comfortable than it is with josh. even when you're outside against a brick wall. "is this okay?" he asks, running a ring-clad hand over the curve of your thigh for a moment before he presses you against the wall, letting your back come against it.
"this is okay," even a simple, is this okay, has you soaked. he's so considerate.
"it is?" he asks, gently, fingers brushing the hem of your underwear, tugging slowly with a curl of his index and middle.
"you're worrying," you murmur, expression soft.
"just wanna treat you right," matt says gently, tugging down your underwear finally. you flinch a little at the cold air hitting your wet cunt, his blue eyes following the string of your arousal clinging to your panties from your hole. he swallows thickly at the sight, sliding your underwear into his pocket for safe keeping. it'd be a miracle if you got those back after. "make you feel as good as you made me, baby," he shifts you against the wall.
you're pretty sure you're dripping down your thighs, and matt can't help a bashful smile at the sight. "up," he says gently, and you oblige, lifting your legs to hook around his waist so he holds you up with his body. it's an interesting position, but this is an interesting predicament, you suppose. "thank you," he says gently, unable to stop himself. he feels.. just.. amazing.
"what are you thankin' me for?" you giggle, head tilting. you're trying not to focus on how good you feel as the head of his cock glides over your folds, parting them gently enough to rub against your clit. he hasn't even been inside you yet and you're pretty sure you could make a mess right there and then.
"lettin' me have you," matt says it like it's obvious, scoffing a little at the way you look at him so curiously. his hands slide down to your thighs, gripping and tugging you closer to hold you up and give himself leverage to slide into you. he pumps his hand over himself once or twice, smacking the head against your cunt before he slowly starts pushing into your tight hole. a whine escapes both of you when he does so, the tight stretch making both you and matt shiver. "oh god, oh.."
if he could stay buried in you forever, he would. if you could have him in you forever, you would. he stretches you so good, a little muffled whimper coming from you as you'd nuzzled into his shoulder to keep yourself steady. "matt," you whine, "so good," he revels in your praise, a fluttery feeling in his stomach at how you seem to adore him. matt's careful, easing himself into you till he bottoms out, fitting snug within your sensitive pussy.
his head tilts back with a groan, content to just stay there like that, but he can feel you grow a tad bit impatient with a little rock of your hips. "i got you," he says with a little nod, slowly easing back before he rocks his hips forward again. he does this a couple more times till he finds an easy rhythm, the slickness of your pussy allowing him to just slip in and out. "is this o—"
"matt, it's fucking okay," he can't help but laugh at the way you snap st him, your words shaky as you watch the way his cock disappears into your tight hole, the wet sounds making your stomach feel all fluttery just like his. the rhythmic sound of skin slapping against skin makes you feel all the more connected to matt, your eyes searching his. "it's okay, more than—shit, mmh.." you just make the perfect sounds as he gradually finds himself pounding into you, hands holding you up against him.
his movements are a little sloppy and clumsy, a testament to how badly he wants you, wants you to feel good, wants to feel the way you clench around him when you cream on him. "like that, like that, shit, fuck me like that," your whimpers only make him thrust harder, his eyes locked on the bounce of your tits with everytime his hips meet yours. every inch of you is intoxicating for him.
"you feel like heaven, baby, god," he grunts out, feeling the way your tight walls squeeze him, practically trapping him there. he keeps it up, free hand lifting to palm at your chest, gently squeezing. he can't help himself, and you can't help but cry out louder. the music of the party is loud enough to mask your sounds anyway, you're sure of it. "this pussy, mmh, could die right here, poundin' your tight cunt, baby."
"uh-huh? yeah?" you coax, feeling your head spin as he hits every spot. his tip hammers into that gummy spot inside of you that makes you cry out with every hard thrust of his hips, and he groans under his breath as you start to clench around him again. "shit, matt, m'gonna cum, i can't, gonna—"
"yeah? yeah? me too, me too, baby, c'mon," he squeezes at your chest once more before his hand slides back down to your thighs, his thrusts only becoming more forceful, making your legs tighten around his waist and inner walls squeeze him even more. "me too, cum for me, cum with me, i got you, that's it, that's my girl," his hips stutter once more, especially when you cream on his cock like that, his blue eye falling instantly to the way your release oozes down him. it soon mixes with his own, a lewd, wet sound squelching out as he pulls out from you a moment after.
his chest rises and falls in heavy breaths, as does yours, recovering from how intense your orgasms were. even then, he feels like he could go again. a million times. maybe after a second, you'd definitely go again too. he's about to go to speak when he hears a call pull up outside, most definitely josh, and your eyes widen, "matt—"
"my place," he tells you, no negotiation in his tone. he wasn't done with you. he doesn't think he'll ever be done with you.
๋࣭ ⭑ taglist / @mattslolita , @st7rnioioss , @flairdean , @mattsluv , @bepositiveforachange , @poetatorturadaa , @onlynextdoor , @sturncakez , @luverboychris , @sirenedeslily , @evrithingbagel , @sl4ttformattsturniolo , @mattsturnihoe , @aphroditepjo , @mazzystar111 , @flouvela , @stonermattsgf , @str4wberryk1ss3s
#𐙚˙ ana writes ⋆.˚#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x reader
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of the jealous kind - charles leclerc blurb
inspired by this request ! i hope you like it
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
The Miami heat embraced your skin as you walked holding Charles' hand through the Ferrari garage. It was race day and you were beyond excited to be joining him.
The Miami Grand Prix was known to be a place where all kinds of celebrities wanted to be, from actors to influencers, the paddock and the garages were filled with starlets who wanted to meet the drivers. So you wondered who would you be seeing around the area and possibly fangirling if any of your favorite celebrities happened to attend
"They told me Ed Sheeran is coming," Charles said, as if he read your mind, "I really want to meet him, he's a legend."
"Look at you, fan boy," you teased, pinching his side and letting him wrap his arm around your shoulders, "Are you going to tell him how many times you play his songs around the house?"
"Definetely, I'm also going to ask him to sign my forehead," he said and you threw your head back in laughter, "Are you good? Do you want anything to drink? Or anything I can get you."
You smiled tenderly at him, one of Charles' many love languages was always making sure you felt comfortable and happy, no matter the place or setting.
"I'm all good, baby," you pecked his cheek affectionately, "I can't wait for the race to start, honestly."
"Me too, I have a great feeling about this one," he moved his arm to placed around your waist, squeezing your hip, "I feel like it's going to be special."
Before you could reply, someone from his team called for him.
"I'll be back in a minute, mon coeur," he kissed your lips quickly, "Don't go too far, okay?"
"Don't miss me too much." You winked at him and sent him his way, watching as he walked off with a confident stride.
As you waited for Charles to return, you took in the atmosphere of the garage. Mechanics rushed around, making last-minute adjustments to the cars, while team members and guests mingled, discussing the upcoming race. You spotted a few familiar faces among the crowd, fellow drivers and their partners, all sharing in the pre-race anticipation.
Lost in thought, you almost didn't notice when a voice called out your name. Turning, you could swear your jaw fell to the floor as you realized that it was Zayn, your ex-boyfriend.
You and Zayn dated for almost two years and broke up nearly six years ago, the breakup was healthy and you were in good terms with him after it, but it had been years since you had seen each other, and you had never expected to run into him here, of all places.
"YN, hey," Zayn said, a warm smile on his face as he reached you, "Wow, it's been a while,"
"Yeah, it has," you replied, returning his smile. "What are you doing here? Are you a fan of Formula 1 now?"
"Yeah, I'm really into it," he said, "I was dying to meet the drivers and hang around here, I'm glad I could finally do it."
"That's amazing," you said, genuinely surprised. "I had no idea you were into that kind of stuff."
"Yeah, it's been a huge hobby of mine for a while now," Zayn explained. "But enough about me, how have you been? What have you been up to?"
You filled Zayn in on your life since you last saw each other, telling him about your job, your hobbies, and of course, your relationship with Charles. Zayn listened intently, nodding along and asking questions, clearly interested in hearing about your life.
"I'm really happy for you, YN," Zayn said sincerely. "It sounds like you're in a really good place right now."
"Thank you, Zayn," you replied, smiling sincerely at him, "I'm glad we ran into each other. It's nice to catch up."
Before any of you could say anything else, you felt a presence behind you and a strong arm wrapping protectively around your waist.
You didn't have to turn around and look at his face to know that Charles was jealous.
"Hey, love," he said, his gaze fixed on your face, "All good?"
"Yeah, I was just catching up with Zayn. Zayn, this is Charles,"
"Her boyfriend," he said before you could even speak, and you almost rolled your eyes comically, "It's nice to meet you, mate."
"Nice to meet you too," Zayn said as you shook hands, "YN was just telling me about you, I'm a big fan."
"Likewise," Charles replied, his tone polite and kind but and with a hint of possessiveness "Are you visiting all the Garages?"
"Yeah, that's my goal for the day," Zayn said, "Actually, I should probably get going, It was really nice seeing you, YN. And it was great meeting you, Charles."
"Yeah, it was nice catching up," you replied, offering him a smile.
"Take care, both of you, and goof luck on the race." Zayn said, returning your smile.
As Zayn walked away, you could feel Charles relaxing beside you. He turned to you, his expression softening, and you looked at him with accusing eyes.
"So, care to explain what was that?" you said, raising your eyebrows at him.
"What was what?" Charles looked at you innocently, but you could see his jaw was still tensed
"Don't play dumb, Charles," you chuckled, nudging him with your elbow. "You were totally jealous back there, acting all petty and protective."
"I wasn't jealous," he protested, but his eyes betrayed him, glancing away for a split second before meeting yours again, "I wasn't!"
"Sure, sure," you teased, wrapping your arm around his waist and leaning into him. "It's cute, you know. Seeing you get all protective."
"Okay, you win," he rested his arm on your back, "I just wanted him to know you're with me now."
"Don't worry, I think he got the message," you teased, leaning into his side.
"Good," Charles chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple "Because I don't like sharing."
"Don't be ridiculous now," you rolled your eyes playfully, "You're like a big, jealous puppy."
"Hey, I can't help it," Charles protested, a grin on his face, "You're stunning and such a catch, anyone would die to be with you," he said, instantly making you blush, "I just love you so much."
"I love you too," you replied, leaning up to kiss him softly, "Now, come on, let's go watch you win this race."
"Sounds like a plan," Charles said, squeezing your waist, "I hope Verstappen doesn't ruin that plan though."
#charles leclerc au#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc smau#charles leclerc fake instagram#charles leclerc#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc f1#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1#formula one#charles leclerc fanfiction#harrysfolklore#f1 x reader#max verstappen#miami gp 2024#1k
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Can I ask for Headcanons/Scenario with the crew members where it's a normal tulpar haul. But the reader is an extremely experienced captain of another ship,and they're older,more built and more strict. Like think 6'7,built like an extreme weightlifter,very classy and formal.
And they're on the tulpar to look after everything because it's an incredibly important shipment? What would the crew members reactions be to the reader appearing very strict,no-nonsense,cold and condescending. But once they get close, the reader is actually very nice.
also can it be a male reader? Thank you! I love your writing. <3
Melting the Ice away.
Crew Members x Male! Older! Strict! Reader. [ Reader is a high ranking captain of another pony express ship ]
a/n; this ask was basically buried deep in my inbox,i was just scrolling through and found it.
Tulpar! Captain,Curly.
Oh boy,and they used to say that curly was the most able employee at pony express. Clearly they lied,Cause LOOK. AT. YOU.
For the first time in his career,he felt intimidated.
The way you basically hovered over him,gave him chills ngl.
He admires you so fucking hard, your efficiency ,your capability, and your experienced nature. you need something? Grant Curly is on it!... He found himself trying to... Impress you???
He was basically always looking for your approval at things,no matter how small or trivial it was. He needed your opinion.
He was also starting to wonder wether or not the feeling of intimidation... was rather something else.
He is definitely feelin a lil somethin somethin.
When he actually got to know you,and saw how kind and sweet you actually were. This guy just fell,he fell guys,he just fell.
Co-Pilot, Jimmy.
Manz is PISSED.
He is freaking LIVID,as if Curly wasn't already enough,bossing him around.
He'll never ever admit it to anyone,but he was basically scared of you,of how... Domineering you were.
He is jealous of how put together you were,always effortlessly classy.
He couldn't decide whether he wanted to be you,or wanted to be with you.
He didn't even notice it,but you found him staring,so intently that it actually concerned you.
Whenever you would try to interact with him he'll make up an excuse and run away.
But he,too wanted to get on your good side.
He'll die before ever admitting it,but he was craving your praise so fucking bad.
He is just dying on the inside,he desperately wants to hear you call him a 'Good Boy'.
Maybe he'll have to impress you some other way,who knows?
Nurse, Anya.
Let's be fr,the first time Anya saw you,her heart skipped a bit. I mean c'mon! Can you blame her? She doesn't see handsome, capable, disciplined male colleagues on the regular,does she?
Cut her some slack for staring! She can't help herself for wanting to admire you!
Like the others,she also tries her best to live up to your expectations,to be on your good list. She tries to make sure all your needs are met,(which aren't even bothersome,you prefer to do things your own anyway) but she always insists upon helping you out!
You began to notice that no matter who else wasn't around,Anya was always there in the corner of your eye. Was she... Following you around?
By Gods,she can't help it! No other person on the ship is as pleasant to be around as you! She feels at ease when she's with you. And you don't mind.
When she finally gets to know the real you, the butterflies in her stomach settle down into something even more soothing and calming.
Her puppy crush is beginning to grow,maybe someday in the near future, she'll ask you for things, beyond the professional limit.
Mechanic, Swansea.
He is just glad that there is someone on this godforsaken ship who has the screws in their head straight.
He does feel a bit relaxed that he doesn't have to worry about things going wrong with you onboard.
He sometimes has you deal with Daisuke instead. More relaxation time for him.
He can count on you. And he likes you the best on the ship.
Doesn't shy away from praising you in front of others.
Intern,Daisuke.
"WOWZER MISTER YOU'RE SO COOL!".
He was a bit scared of you at first,but quickly warmed up to how refreshing you were.
You were strict,yes. But not as much as Swansea. You never scolded him,or complained about him to others.
Instead you always, efficiently taught him how to do things properly.
The way you spoke,the way you presented yourself. He didn't find it strange how his other, older, colleagues were swooning over you either.
Grew to like you the best on the ship as well,always right by your side.
He does think you're hot,but is intimidated pretty easily.
#sori for da horibal english#i feel like this isn't my best work#mouthwashing#mouthwashing game#mouthwashing wrong organ#wrong organ#jimmy mouthwashing#mouthwashing jimmy#mouthwashing jimmy x reader#jimmy mouthwashing x reader#mouthwashing curly#curly mouthwashing#captain curly#curly x reader#mouthwashing curly x reader#captain curly x reader#mouthwashing anya#anya x reader#anya mouthwashing#swansea x reader#mechanic swansea#swansea#mouthwashing x reader#jimmy x reader#mouthwashing daisuke#daisuke mouthwashing#mouthwashing x y/n#daisuke#daisuke x reader
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can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 21
Or: a secret Admirer AU
PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15 || PART 16 || PART 17 || PART 18 || PART 19 || PART 20
Chrissy’s in Steve’s bed, sprawled out on her stomach, trying to plow through her homework when Steve says, “I need your help.”
Her heart’s in her throat as she whips her head toward him, already halfway through jumping up off the bed, ready to bury whatever body he needs burying.
But, he’s not even looking at her; he’s restlessly tearing a blank piece of paper into tiny little pieces, and his ears are a familiar, damning red. He’s not worried, he’s embarrassed.
“Jeez, you’re going to give me a heart attack,” Chrissy sighs, flopping back down onto the bed. She’s gotten far too used to all of Steve’s problems being life or death, and whatever this is, she can tell it’s not that.
“Sorry,” Steve mutters.
She just waves her hand and flips her notes and textbook closed, ready to think about something, anything else. “What is it, boy troubles?” she asks, fluttering her eyelashes flirtatiously, only to drop all pretenses when Steve ducks his head like a turtle hiding within its shell. “Already?”
“It’s not a problem, Chris, god,” he sighs, running his hand anxiously through his hair. “I just thought—nevermind, it’s stupid.”
And then he just, picks his homework back up, as if Chrissy would ever let him get away with that. “Steve Harrington,” she snaps, only feeling marginally bad when he snaps his head back up. “Nothing about you is stupid.”
He’s still turtling into himself, but he nods dutifully, so she continues. “Now, tell me what you were going to say.”
He groans, flopping down on the bed to stare up at his white ceiling, barely blinking. She follows his lead, collapsing bonelessly next to him and rolling atop all their coursework until she’s nestled into his side, both of them giggling.
He wraps his arm around her shoulder, and finally begins to speak. “I have a date with Eddie tomorrow, right?” he says, looking down at her for confirmation. She nods, even though he’d never given her a specific date. “And I wanted you to help me, like, plan it?”
She blinks, nonplussed as the blush on his cheeks disperses across his cheeks. She rolls over, elbow planted on his chest so she can use it to prop her chin up and peer down at him. “You need help planning a date?” she asks, voice incredulous.
He groans, reaching up to hide his face from her view, but she grabs his wrists and yanks them back down. He pouts up at her while she watches on, unamused.
“Most of my usual date plans are like, public? We can’t exactly just show up at Benny’s and share a milkshake, you know?” Chrissy grimaces, not having thought of that, but before she can apologize, he continues talking. “And besides…”
He trails off, eyes darting back and forth between her eyes as his blush travels down his neck and up the bridge of his nose.
“Besides?” she prompts, voice soft.
“We started this whole thing together, right?” he asks, looking earnestly up at her. “It wouldn’t feel right if we didn’t finish it together.”
Chrissy’s shriveled heart grows three sizes and bursts with such a ferocious love that she collapses onto him without warning, arms wrapping around him and squeezing tight enough that he groans.
“I love you, Steve Harrington,” she says, ignoring all his pleas for her to loosen her hold. “I’m so glad you looked pathetic enough that day for me to come ask if you needed help.”
“I didn’t look that pathetic,” he grumbles, finally succeeding in tossing her off of him, sending her careening off the bed and onto the lush carpet of his bedroom floor.
He peers over the side of the bed, looking worried, so she smiles up at him until he reaches down and helps her back up.
“You looked like a wet puppy someone had tossed in a river,” she replies, bulldozing through his continued complaints to ask, “now, what were you thinking?”
In the end, it’s a fairly typical date set-up, but instead of dinner at a nice restaurant, it’s in Steve’s home. They lay a checkered table cloth across the Harrington’s breakfast nook, make sure he has all the ingredients for burgers and fries, and then set about attempting to make milkshakes once Steve reveals he’s never made them before.
Their first attempt splatters chocolate ice cream and milk all over the ceiling. Their second results in a water concoction that, while edible, is less than pleasant.
The third is thick, barely able to be sucked through one of the straw’s Steve had stolen from Benny’s. It’s perfect.
“Can you dump Eddie so I can go on the date instead?” she asks, barely pausing in her pursuit of sucking the shake through her straw.
Steve laughs and replies, “Or, I can just make you one whenever you want,” he says, nudging the shake closer to her, leaving his own straw inside.
She beams, and drinks the entire thing.
Steve accosts her before lunch the day of, telling Jeff, “can you tell everyone we’ll be missing lunch? Thanks,” before dragging her away.
“I thought we were done with this,” she says, settling into the seat across from him as he pulls out a familiar notebook she hasn’t even glimpsed for weeks.
He opens it, but doesn’t turn to the back of the notebook where all his rough draft secret admirer letters lay. Instead, he pulls a light blue envelope from the front and hands it over to her.
She stares down at Eddie’s name in Steve’s messy scrawl, clearly written carefully to keep it legible.
“Steve?” she asks, ghosting her fingers over the letters before looking up into his anxious face.
“It’s just—I liked writing the letters, so I wanted to give him one on our date, so,” he breaks their gazes to look down at the envelope, biting his lip. “I already wrote it, but it wouldn’t feel right if you didn’t read it first.”
Steve Harrington, Chrissy thinks, eyes welling with all the fondness her body’s too small to contain. “Okay,” she sniffs, smiling down at the letter as she carefully slides her finger under the envelope’s flap and pulls it free.
It unfolds into the letter itself, Steve having clearly reverse-engineered it from all the times Eddie had done the same. Only then does she realize that at some point, he must have stolen a page from her planner because that’s the same as the first time, too.
She raises an eyebrow at him, but doesn’t say anything, just hunches back over the letter and begins to read.
Eddie —
I know we don’t have to do this anymore, but I miss it. Isn’t that the strangest thing? I’m happy talking to you face to face, holding your hand beneath the table, pressing my lips against yours, but I miss reading your words, and I miss writing my own.
So, here I am, writing you the day before our second date, so nervous and excited I might just throw up. Because we can do it now, you know? We can do all the things we’ve talked about (and more). I’m excited to do them with you.
If the date goes well, I want you to put this under your pillow, hold my face in your mind, and dream of me.
Hopefully Yours, Hopefully Always,
Steve
P.S. I know you can just put them in my locker now, but maybe put this one in The Return of the King? Just this once, for me?
“How is it?” Steve asks when she’s been staring down at the words on the page for probably too long. “Is it okay?”
“It’s perfect,” she says, grinning when his entire face lights up like a Christmas tree. “And so are you.”
***
“They’re not coming to lunch,” Jeff says as he settles onto the bench at their usual table, a slab of lasagna already somehow congealing on his tray.
“Are they okay?” Eddie asks, dropping his own fork to try to glean any worry on Jeff’s own face.
“Steve was definitely excited when he dragged Chrissy off,” Jeff replies, shrugging. Before Eddie can even spit out his follow-up question, Jeff continues, “no idea what they’re doing, though,” and he closes his mouth.
“I know,” Robin calls from down the table, voice all sing-songy and sly.
Eddie turns to glare at her, but she just keeps grinning around her sandwich, Vickie looking equally lost at her side.
“Are you going to enlighten the rest of the class,” Eddie asks, gesturing to the rest of the table despite clearly being the only one who gives a shit.
Robin grins wider and replies, “it’s a secret,” tauntingly like she knows somehow that word is his ultimate trigger.
Eddie whines, but no one pays him any mind. Even more cruelly, he doesn’t see Steve for the rest of the school day, leaving him flushed and flustered as he rushes home to get ready for their date.
Unfortunately, it’s Wayne’s day off, so he’s there to heckle Eddie as he changes his outfit enough times to leave his hair a frizzy mop on the top of his head.
“You dressin’ for a date or to be the janitor’s new mop?” Wayne asks, laughing as Eddie rushes past him and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind himself.
Unfortunately, Wayne’s right, so Eddie runs a damp brush through his hair, trying to make the frizziness merge back with the rest of his hair. When it doesn’t really work, Eddie folds his hair into a bun and elects not to look at himself in the mirror again.
With ten minutes to spare, Eddie moves his frantic pacing for the living room, walking back and forth in front of Wayne, fingers gyrating as he tries to keep them from further ruining his hair.
“You really wearing that?” Wayne asks, long since having given up on trying to watch the TV, Eddie’s body too much of a moving obstacle to crane his neck around.
Eddie stops and stares down at his outfit. “What’s wrong with this?”
It’s a more put together version of his usual style: his only pair of black jeans that haven’t gotten any holes yet, clunky boots, still adequately polished from his last date with Steve, a plain black t-shirt, fingers full of rings except the one he keeps bare, the ring still on Steve’s own finger.
“You know what I mean, boy,” Wayne sighs, looking him up and down with so much judgment that Eddie wants to shrivel up and die. “Ain’t the jacket a bit much?”
Eddie fondles the green and white cuff of the jacket’s sleeve. He does a little spin, like a dog chasing its own tail, trying to get a look at the way it hangs on his frame.
Wayne’s right—it looks almost incongruous on him, clashing absurdly with the rest of his outfit, but it’s got Steve’s name on its back, and a small, shivery part of Eddie likes that. Jock courting rituals are absurd, but there’s maybe something to this one.
Maybe Steve will like it, too—his name on Eddie’s back.
“Is it too much?” Eddie asks, voice taking on that higher pitch that only dogs can hear. He turns to Wayne, panicky and desperate. “Do you think it’s coming on too strong?”
Wayne’s mouth twists up all sardonic and wry as he snorts and replies, “that boy’s been writing you love notes for months. There ain’t no such thing as too strong, for a thing like that.”
Eddie feels his cheeks warm. He breaks eye contact, looking down the floor as he scuffs the toe of his boot against the carpet bashfully.
Before he can voice any of the self-conscious bullshit kicking around in his head, there’s a knock at the door. Eddie snaps his head up and freezes, staring with mounting hysteria at the closed front door until there’s a second knock and he snaps back to life.
“Oh my god, places everybody!” Eddie cries, clutching at his head in panic, undoing all the work he’d done on his hair in one fell swoop.
“I ain’t moving,” Wayne says from the chair.
Eddie rushes past him, skidding to a halt in front of the door. He wastes precious seconds taking a few deep breaths before he swings the door open, fake smile plastered on his face. It melts into something excited and real when he catches sight of Steve.
Steve, who’s wearing the leather jacket Chrissy still hasn't returned. Steve, who’s fiddling with the lapels and blushing self-consciously until he catches sight of Eddie’s own attire and bursts out laughing.
“Great minds think alike, huh Harrington?” Eddie asks, smiling down at him.
While on Eddie, the aesthetic mismatch looks bizarre, Steve’s light-wash jeans and green polo somehow only enhance the effect of Eddie’s oversized leather jacket.
“It’s The Return of the King,” Eddie says, looking up and down Steve’s body, smirking before catching sight of his befuddled face. “We’ve really gotta get you up to date on Tolkien.”
“Oh, the hobbit books?” Steve asks, smiling brightly. “I just started the first one. Bilbo’s a pretty cool dude.”
Eddie takes a shuddering breath, heart kicking up a notch. “Yeah, he’s pretty cool,” Eddie replies in a hushed tone. Steve Harrington is reading The Hobbit. This fact somehow has him feeling more faint than seeing him in Eddie’s own jacket. He clears his throat, face hot, heartbeat rapid. “Should—should we go?”
His voice squeaks awkwardly, but Steve doesn’t seem to notice. He just beams up at Eddie and takes two graceful steps back off the front stoop, holding his arm out to gesture Eddie over the threshold of his own trailer.
Eddie slams the door, muffling Wayne’s embarrassing call of, “have him home by ten!” just in time.
He skips down the steps and latches onto Steve’s held out arm, letting Steve lead him toward his car like a gentleman.
“You know, I think Chrissy and Jeff had some sort of weird sex thing with this jacket?” Eddie asks, shaking his arm demonstratively.
“Yeah, Chrissy told me.”
"Seriously?" Eddie squawks, stopping suddenly enough that he kicks up gravel beneath his boots.
"No, you idiot,” Steve says, laughing at him even as he stops beside him, still holding onto Eddie’s arm.
“Oh, good because—”
“Jeff did.”
Eddie sputters, eyes wide until he turns and sees Steve’s shit-stirring grin. “You’re the worst,” he says, pouting as Steve just starts laughing again. “Why do I even like you?”
That has Steve’s ears turning pink, and his eyes averting to look toward his car, seeming almost shy. “Well,” he starts before cutting himself off when his voice comes out strangely high. He clears his throat and continues, “shall we?”
Steve gestures toward his parked car with his free hand because return of The King or not, this guy’s somehow, inexplicably, a nerd.
Eddie wants to kiss him about it, but they’re in public, already toeing the line of what’s acceptable in polite society, so all he does is squeeze Steve’s arm where it’s still wrapped around his and reply, “we shall.”
There will be time for kisses later—time for all of the things Eddie’s finding he wants to do with Steve Harrington.
They’ve got nothing but time.
The End
If you've read this far, thank you so much! Especially if you've like, reblogged, or commented. It all means so much to me, and I appreciate every single one of you.
This could have gone on for another 50k, I'm sure, but this feels like the right ending to me. It's not a story about Being Together, it's a story about Finding Each Other, and they've both done that, with Chrissy, and Robin, and Jeff, and now with each other <3<3<3
Now, one final shoutout to @queenie-ofthe-void for both being the best beta a guy can ask for, and to be the one who came up with this idea at all. It literally couldn't exist without you, and I appreciate you so much <3<3<3
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ErROr
Love and Deepspace Various! / Reader
《File welcomes you! Enter! ... Good Luck.》
-
-
Huming to the soft music playing in the cafe, you gently stir the brew. The smell of fresh bread and sweet syrups always lingering in the air.
You were glad for the calm evening, the morning rush had gone by rather quickly. Each order different than the last, yet you and youe colleuges made it through the first shift.
"Excuse me?" A polite voice pipes up. Giving the costumer your attention, your eyes widen at the familiar heroine hunter.
"Hello again! What can I get you Miss MC?"
You playfully smile, as the brunette beauty grins back at you.
"My usual, please."
"Alright, unicorn hair and a dish rag, comin' up!" You state innocently as her eyes widen. Her laughter lighting on the cafè as you turn away to the coffee cups.
Not seeing her lean her palm against her chin, eyeing the curve of your shoulder blades as stretch a arm up to the higher shelves.
'I wish I was that cup~!' She screamed iternally. This little haven of her's being the few solaces in her stressful life. Bringing out her phone, texting her friend, using every bit of sensabilty to not take photos of you.
-
You swoon openly, heart-eyed and face warm as you recount your feelings. Though, you knew telling the male of who your affections were for wouldn't make him bat an eye, (since he loved MC), it weirded you out at his strange behavior. Eyes slightly cold as his frown deepens into a pout.
You ignore it, knowing you had no chance with the love intrest. (At least you could swoon about the other male leads since they didn't know it was them you were talking about.)
"Hm? You okay?" You pause your rant, eyeing the blonde.
"...No."
"O-oh.." You head slightly lowered, toying with the holding trey. "A-ahm.. I'll just, get your order, Xavier." The friendly tone dying in your throat as you walk away. Frowning, know you shouldn't be pushing your luck. You'd at least hoped to be on friendly terms! You knew he wasn't as cold as he presented himself! But.. That was reserved for the MC only.
While wandering back to the kitchen, the blonde runs his fingers through his locks. Upset for being the cause of loosing your enthusiasm.
Jelousy spiking up quietly in his heart when recalling MC proudly showing off your number in her phone. Or hearing your sweet words of praise directed to someone else.
He'd have to find away to get it.
-
Sitting on the bar-stool, you eye the giant glass shard stuck in your leg. Trying to fake the pain, you were honestly nonchalant at the at the injury.
It couldn't really do damage.
Sweating slightly, you smiled nervously at the doctor.
Zayne carefully lifts your leg close to him, tenderly gripping your skin as he eyes injury.
"Okay... One, two... THREE." He stated, pulling out the glass stuck in your thigh. You blink, nothing, no scream, no blood... Nothing.
"...." The doctor blinks at you in disbelief. Shakily placing the shard down on the bar-counter.
"...Y.. Your body still must be in shock." The male rationalized, fingers digging into the flesh of your leg.
"O-oh... Y-yeah..." You hear the jingle of the cafè's door opening. Alerting the two of you as Zayne's body cages around you.
-
The painter eagerly pushes you down on one of the dressing room chairs. Smirking as MC walks into one the dressing rooms.
"You know... I think this color would look wonderfully on you." He spoke casually, sliding up closer to you. Holding up a shimmering blue dress with bits of jewels threaded into the seam.
You thought it looked really familiar to certain outfit of his-
"Huh.. I don't think it's my size though." You shrug, "the last outfit you handed me was a bit tight. I couldn't even pull the ziper up for the back."
You recall a few moments earlier, when MC eagerly wanted to take a selfie with you in that piece. Rafeyal immediately forwning and trying to push between you. To the point his hands pushing at your back away from the female Hunter.
Not seeing the grin he shot her when he carresed your naked lower spine.
"Though, I really wish you'd acompany me and Miss Bodygaurd to the exhibit."
"Oh? That's really nice of you to offer, but I-... Well.." You let a silly smile overtake your face. Dreamily sighing as you glace away, your heart couldn't take his pout.
"I.. uhm.. Got a date?"
-
Seeing that familiar smirk, you got another case of butterflies. Swallowing down your swooning, you notice a customer calling you over.
Passing by the male, you use all of your will power to ignore him. Eyes shinning with utter affection, you direct those feelings away. Greeting the costumer that called you eagerly.
Feelings still rampanging over your heart, you do your best to pay attention to the order.
Heading back to the counter, your co-worker writes down Sylus order as you start perparing the coffee.
"Excuse me, I'm sorry to add on to my order. But may I have two smaller drinks with the order."
"Of course!" You pipe up, not daring to meet his gaze as you shake the syrup canister.
"Thank you, (Y/N)..."
He sounded out the name cheekily, with you heart fluttering about. You don't see that your name-tag was no longer on your shirt.
Instead, hidden within his coats pockets for safe-keeping.
-
[Hiya! I wrote this as a idea I had awhile ago! It was originally in the concept as a full fledege idea. But I scrapped it, sorry! Enjoy! Thanks for reading, if you wanna know more. Send in a ask!]
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace xavier#love and deepspace rafayel#lad zayne#lad sylus#lad xavier#lad rafayel#rafayel#rafayel x reader#sylus x reader#sylus x you#zayne x you#zayne x reader#rafayel x you#rafayel x y/n#xavier love and deepspace#lads xavier#xavier x reader#love and deepspace x mc#love and deepspace x you#mc x reader#lads#lads zayne#lads sylus#isekai reader#self aware au#self aware au possibly??#yandere x y/n#x y/n
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jade green prologue
azriel x reader
in which Azriel has a personal healer, and she needs to be saved.
word count: 830 words
warnings: light angst, head injury, rhys is an asshole!
unedited
Being a traveling healer meant a few things; one, knowing how to defend yourself is the most important thing next to healing. Two, paying attention to new science and healing techniques will always benefit you and your patient. Lastly, being kind to everyone you meet, will get you further than having people fear you.
Well, for the most part. Sometimes defending yourself and staying kind contradict one another hence why you are running, no, rolling down a snowy mountain trying to outrun some bandits.
The snow is wet and mushy, not quite the firm snow that Illriya gets further into the cold season, so you are having a hard time grasping anything to regain balance and stability. Your winter gear is starting to become soaked with the cold and wet ground you have been sliding in, and eventually, you are wet head to toe when you slide into a river with no way to slow yourself down or stop.
Your head reemerges from the frigid water rushing around you, face freezing and refreshed at the same time. The sky is a bright white reflecting off the snow on the mountain making it hard for you to see. At this point, you have no idea what direction you are even facing or heading towards, and your body is dropping its temperature rapidly.
“Shit.” You manage to cough out, your bag of healing items now long gone in the river.
You try swimming toward a branch you see floating near you but get swept by the current and smack your head on the branch instead, causing everything around you to go dark.
There is not much that will get a reaction of Azriel but seeing one of his close friends (who he hasn’t seen in years) floating lifeless in the Sidra was a scenario that made his stomach drop to his feet.
He isn’t sure how he recognized you, floating face up in the water and blueish gray, but he is glad he did because he quickly shot down to where you were and ripped your frigid body out of the painfully cold water his hands going numb with pain. Your hair glowing around your face no doubt your healing abilities trying to save your body a little, but it is clearly having a hard time considering you still have a large gash on your forehead dripping sticky blood.
He lifts your lifeless body into his strong arms and winnows to Madja’s healers’ cabin. He feels your pulse faintly but at least it is still there. A bit of panic flushes through his body when he realizes how long you have been in this state. And then anger washes over him, who could do this to someone so kind? He thinks harshly to himself.
Where are you, brother? A voice appears in his head, Not now Rhys. He responds sharply.
Oh, at a pleasure house? Finally, taking up my advice? Don’t forget about family dinner. Rhysand quips back in a joking tone, to which Azriel blocks him out completely.
He could not care less about family dinner more than he did right now. You limp in his arms freezing cold with blue lips and eyes faintly closed with what looked to be ice crystals around your lashes and eyebrows. You who have saved him from the brink of death on more than one occasion. You were all that mattered in this moment.
When Madja finally helped you in, you were lying there with your chest softly rising on the bed. He couldn’t leave your side nor did he want to.
“It is good you found her when you did,” Madja spoke to him. “She was getting to dangerous levels of freezing. Without her abilities, I am fairly certain her blood would have frozen.”
Azriel winced and ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t even know what she was doing here. I have never met with her in Velaris.” He responded softly.
“You know her?” Madja asked in the same tone.
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat, “Long time friends.”
She nodded in response. “She should wake when she is warm enough. If there is anything else I can do just yell for me, but I will be in my office.” With that, she walks off and closes the door gently.
Azriel for once does not know what to do, sitting there feels like a waste of time when he could be hunting those down who did this to you. However, he does not want you to wake up alone and confused.
Then he thinks about how he is expected to be at family dinner with his happily mated brothers and the girl he thought he was infatuated with. He felt guilty for a moment thinking about his family being happy when you were lying here lifeless, but then felt anger towards someone he calls a brother. A pleasure house? He scoffs verbally. His soul aches for companionship but right now all that matters is when you wake up.
a/n: it is a little guy but welcome to the prologue!
#azriel acotar#acotar#azriel x reader#azriel fluff#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#azriel fanfiction#acotar fandom#azriel x you#azriel angst#azriel fic
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it’s your privilege | taylor sloane & fem!reader
Taylor can’t help herself from teasing you. She often thinks it’s a form of cuteness aggression.
Word count: 4270
Tags | MDNI: smut, fluff, masturbation, cunnilingus, strap-ons, light choking, brief hair-pulling, a lot of teasing, light/sorta degradation, praise (taylor was feeling generous), dom!taylor sloane
“You were awfully quiet tonight,” you heard Taylor say from the washroom. You looked up from your phone and saw her rubbing in her facial serum in the mirror with the tips of her fingers.
You set your phone face down on the pillow beside you, sitting up and tucking your hands under your thighs. “Yeah, I know. I just didn’t feel much like talking with everyone.”
After some moments of silence while you watched Taylor finish up her nighttime routine, her eyes met yours through the mirror. She smiled at the sight of your softened expression once your eyes met, a glint of mischief mirrored through her reflection.
Taylor liked that she was able to make you so soft, that all she had to do was tease you a little or even just meet your eyes to make you feel better than anyone else could.
She thought you were so cute and sensitive and so obsessed with her.
Turning the washroom light off and closing the door behind her, she approached you sitting with your legs hanging from the bed. She wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you removed your hands from under your thighs to support her as she took a seat sideways on your lap.
“Diana was curious about that earthenware pot you made for me when she saw it in the kitchen,” Taylor said, absently running her hand up your chest as her eyes ran over your face, her pinky and ring finger pressing gently into the soft flesh of your left breast. “She asked if you were selling any more like it.”
When you and Taylor were first seeing each other, she invited you over for dinner once and you found out that she was an incredible cook. She’s always had the passion for cooking, she told you, but her busy schedule never made much room for shopping for gourmet ingredients, much less the time it took to cook intricate dishes just for one.
From that, you learned two things: Taylor was an amazing fucking cook, and secondly, that she had a big heart, seeing little purpose in cooking so beautifully if she seldom had anyone to share her food with.
“I noticed that she kind of kept looking over at me,” you said, absently rubbing Taylor’s thigh with the palm of your hand. “I think she wanted to have a conversation so I kept moving around so she’d have to keep talking her way through different people to get to me.”
“She’s such a bitch,” Taylor huffed in irritation, tucking her hand under your shirt and rubbing the pads of her fingers against your stomach. “I tell her it’s not for sale and she has to go and talk to you like she didn’t believe me.”
You laughed with your head tipped back slightly and Taylor’s frown relaxed. She liked that you didn’t take her socialisation and professional life as seriously as she did.
“What did you tell her after she asked if it was for sale?” you asked.
“I told her you made it specially for me the night you invited me over for dinner to ask me to be your girlfriend.” Taylor grinned and hugged you close with her arm still around your shoulders, recalling the beloved memory.
You had shown Taylor the pot after you had dinner together. But you hadn’t even wrapped it in a bow or anything, so Taylor didn’t know it was a gift until you told her, and she didn’t know you had made the whole damn thing until you told her that too.
It just looked so perfect and beautiful. She hadn’t ever been given a gift like that before, let alone any made for her because someone thought she was an amazing cook.
“That still didn’t shoo her off of wanting me to make her one, huh?” you said, an arm wrapping securely around Taylor’s waist to ensure she didn’t slip as she adjusted herself on your lap.
“So glad my girlfriend hates socialising with any other living breathing human being besides me,” she teased, batting her eyelashes at you.
Taylor stood from your lap and reached down to lift your leg up, guiding you backwards onto the bed.
“Not true,” you defended.
“Yeah? Name one other person but me who isn’t your immediate family that you’d genuinely love to have a conversation lasting over an hour with — in, like, some empty padded room.” She climbed onto the bed on all fours, advancing on top of you, but not before pulling the waistband of your pyjama pants down and nipping at your hip playfully.
You started playing with some of her sprawled out hair where your fingertips could reach as you laid beneath her while she slowly ascended your body like a snake, tugging your shirt upwards and kissing and biting gently at your stomach. “I really like that woman at the bakery just outside of Joshua Tree.”
Taylor breathed out sharply through her nose as if to laugh dryly, and you felt it just between your ribcage. “The one that always gives you an extra cheese danish when you go, but hardly even talks to me when I go?”
“Yeah, her.”
“That’s really sweet — the only other person you can tolerate socially is someone who hates me.” She secured your hips between her knees and hovered over your face with an elbow by your head, an impish smile on her lips.
She leaned down and nipped at the tip of your nose. “Wrong answer,” she said.
“What was the right answer?” you implored, moving your hands up her smooth thighs, tucking them beneath her slip before moving up further and resting your hands on her hips.
“You shouldn’t have disagreed with me in the first place,” she teased, the prettiest grin spreading across her face, bare of makeup.
She sighed superficially as if disappointed and lifted herself up to sit between your hips, below your lower stomach. She ran her hands up your clothed stomach and chest as if pondering something absently.
With her bottom lip stuck out a little in a pout, she said, “And I was really in the mood to make you feel good tonight, baby; I thought you just look so cute with your hair up.”
“I guess we’ll both have to go to bed unsatisfied.”
Taylor laughed and moved her hand up your chest, the tips of her fingers very nearly brushing against your nipple beneath your shirt and sending a dull wave of unsatiated desire through your body; she always knew which buttons to press.
“Who’s both?” she asked.
She leaned down so she was hovering above you again and you expected her to say something, so you watched her lips. They parted and your eyes flickered up to hers, watching as they fluttered shut.
You quickly looked down between your hips and saw Taylor tucking her hand beneath her pink satin slip.
When you looked back up, her lips were pulled back into a slight grin as she watched your cheeks flush and your eyes dart around. She started to slowly roll her hips forward so she could use your body to push the back of her hand against.
You tried to interrupt her and wiggle out from underneath her — you wanted to be able to touch her too. “Tay-”
“Don’t move,” she all but whimpered from beyond clenched teeth. “You’ll ruin it, and I won’t be able to get off.”
There was no way she was as turned on as she was making it seem, and she knew you knew that too; she was teasing you, and letting you know she wasn’t going to let you touch her at all.
She tucked her hand beneath your head and lifted you while your elbow moved back so you could sit yourself up. Her hand, now cradling the back of your head, led your lips to her neck, and Taylor sighed when you began kissing down the smooth, warm expanse of her skin. Her hand began to pick up speed, her wrist moving quickly against your lower stomach.
“I love you, Taylor,” you murmured against her throat.
You felt the vibrations of her satisfied hum against your lips. “I love…” she sighed out, then slid her hand around your head to take hold of the lower half of your face, pulling you away from her neck to meet your eyes, “having your mouth on my cunt.”
Taylor liked to push you as far as she could; when you were horny, she could get away with any amount of teasing as long as it brought you closer to being able to please her.
“Beg to eat me out.”
“Please.” You immediately begged. “Please,” you repeated, and moved yourself up onto both elbows. “I wanna make you feel good, Taylor. Please let me eat you out. Please, I wanna make you come. I wanna taste you.”
Her hand slid out from between your bodies and she parted your lips, sliding her thumb into your mouth and pushing your lower jaw down to open your mouth. Then she slid two fingers in, rather pleased to watch as your lips immediately wrapped around her.
You circled your tongue around her fingers, sucking with your lips as you swallowed.
“Do you like that?” she asked, looking down at you, her wavy blonde hair slipping from behind her ears and brushing against your cheeks.
When you nodded, she asked, “Is that all you wanted? Shall we go to bed now?”
“No,” you immediately protested, her fingers still in your mouth.
Green eyes dissected your expression with unparalleled focus, drinking in how you looked so desperate and flushed and overwhelmed.
But it always made you feel so warm when Taylor’s eyes ran over your face in the tender way that only she could do, even when she was trying to only tease; her eyes would run over the trembling of your soft lips and over your delicate eyelids, how your tongue peeked over your bottom teeth and how your eyes darted side to side to capture both of her own.
She removed her fingers from your mouth and kissed you, her fingers dipping into your hair to cup your cheek and rub the pads of her fingers into the side of your head softly.
The both of you moved and she parted from your lips so your head rested on your pillows and Taylor could hold onto the headboard for balance. She repositioned herself on top of you.
“Aren’t you going to thank me?” she asked, looking down at you as both her knees laid beside your head.
You kissed her inner thighs and ran the palm of your hands up the back of her legs before groping her ass. “Thank you,” you told her sincerely.
She smiled, satisfied, and pulled her panties to the side, revealing her wet cunt.
You nearly started crying real tears when she lowered herself down onto your face, your tongue parting her pussy and your lips immediately wrapping around her. Her flavour spread through your mouth and your hands moved up to take hold of her hips and bring her weight further down onto you.
She let out a long, relieved groan as if she had been waiting for you to eat her out for as long as you had been, though she had made you beg for so long.
Her hips rolled forward and back in a gentle swaying rhythm, letting your tongue explore her, delve through her soft folds, in and out of her opening, tasting how she felt just and only ever for you.
Taylor was careful not to move so much lest she become unaware of each and every way your tongue moved against her, for she wanted to feel every inch of how you worshipped and loved her, tasting her slowly with a hunger only she could satiate.
In the meantime your hands explored her body, your thumbs running up her obliques and with a flat palm, how her stomach rose and fell with each of her quickened breaths. She took hold of your wrist and moved it up to her breast, her moan enthusiastic and prolonged when you pinched her nipple between two fingers.
You could feel her begin to pick up speed, and your other hand supported her hips, groping the side of her ass securely. She took hold of the headboard with one hand on your head, encouraging you, petting you.
“Make me come, Y/N,” she told you, and you pleased her in the way you knew she loved, in the way you held back when you knew all she wanted at first was just to feel you love her slowly and without any intention of bringing her to orgasm just yet.
For some years when Taylor was younger, she did ballet.
You knew nothing about ballet or any form of dancing, but you sometimes thought you could see traces of her time as a ballerina in Taylor’s everyday life. For example, she had great posture, and you always thought she moved so elegantly. Her steps were extraordinarily light, and sometimes she snuck up on you when she entered a room.
When Taylor came above you, you always watched with rapt attention the way her back arched, the way her gracefully-moving hips came to a staggered halt, twitching as she released above you. She threw her head back and groaned, the angle of her jaw trailing down smooth and sharp to the corner of her earlobe, exposing the expanse of her pale neck and the shadowed contours of her throat and clavicle.
When Taylor reached her orgasm, she looked like how she did all the time — beautiful, and like she had been rehearsing for audiences the way her eyes squeezed shut and how her pink lips parted, and the way she moaned and called your name and squeezed her thighs securely around your head.
A trembling thigh lifted and released you from beneath her so she could sit herself down beside your shoulder, laying her head back against the headboard and catching her breath for a moment.
You turned and wrapped your arm around her thighs, kissing the side of her hip. She laid a hand on your head and brushed your hair out of your face.
After a moment, Taylor leaned down and whispered into your ear, “Close your eyes.” She pressed a kiss between your eyebrows and you felt her slip off of the bed, and you listened as she walked a few metres away.
A few moments later, you felt the bed dipping by your ankles and, though tempted, you kept your eyes shut until Taylor climbed atop of you again so her face was at the same level as yours.
“Open your eyes,” she said, then pressed her hips forward against yours to rub her solid length against your upper thigh.
Before you had time to react, Taylor met your lips with hers, kissing you with fervour as she began to pull your shorts and underwear down. You squirmed beneath her, adjusting your legs and hips as much as possible so she could remove your clothes without disconnecting from your lips.
She rubbed her strap against your cunt, and you heard her make a satisfied noise when she felt how slick and ready you were against the transparent blue silicone.
Your hips bucked upwards and Taylor immediately pressed a hand down onto your left hip and forced your ass flat back down onto the back.
She lifted your shirt above your head and you watched as your chest was covered in her long wavy blonde hair. Your nipples hardened when her hair brushed against your breasts.
Taylor massaged one of your breasts with her palm, the other running up and down your side soothingly as she sucked at your hardened nipple. She switched breasts and you wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her securely against your body and feeling the comfort of her weight against you.
She reached down and began rubbing the length of her strap against your cunt, moaning into your mouth then parting from your lips so you could watch her expression twist into that of desire as she bit her bottom lip and looked down at you scrutinizingly.
Cracking under her pressure, you squeezed her around the waist and forced your hips upwards, pleading, “Taylor, please, I can’t wait. I want–”
“Watch your tone with me,” she reprimanded, pressing the heel of her hand against your hip harsher and forcing your hips back down. “It’s a privilege to be touched by me.”
You nodded in agreement, shutting your mouth and meeting her eyes obediently.
“Repeat it,” she told you.
Without even a beat of hesitation, you repeated, “It’s a privilege to be touched by you.”
“That’s right, Y/N,” she cooed. “You only get to feel good when I have enough time to entertain you. Your pleasure will never come before mine.”
Her stare softened at your obedient nod and your focused stare as you hung onto her every word. “Turn around,” she then said. “You know how cute I think you sound when you have your face pressed into the pillows.”
She lifted herself from you momentarily to allow you space to turn onto your stomach, and you were soon cocooned by Taylor’s body from behind.
Brushing your hair from your shoulder so she could whisper against the side of your head, Taylor’s lips pressed against your ear as her cock prodded at your opening. “You’ve been such a good girl,” she said before taking hold of your hips with both hands and pulling your ass up against her.
You arched your back and allowed her to pull you onto her cock slowly, and Taylor continued speaking by your ear as she entered you slowly. “You’re so tight,” she said.
There was a certain way Taylor liked to fuck you, and she knew you loved it. She was purposeful and delicate as her hips pulled back and thrusted forward, but right around when your cunt had taken about half of her strap, she’d buck her hips forward sharply and enter you with a firm impact so her hips slapped against your ass. She timed it perfectly each time, treating you delicately as she moved in and out of you then meeting your ass with a snap of her hips.
She was filled with so much satisfaction, her ego reaching heights as she listened to your soft whimpers and whines while you gripped onto the sheets and begged for her; you weren’t specific when you asked for more, but Taylor knew that, mostly, you were just asking for her.
“I think you’re so cute when you act all shy,” she said through her soft pants. “I think you’re so gentle and soft-spoken, blushing when you get complimented by strangers, stuttering when you speak.”
She took a handful of your ass and groped your breast with her other hand, tugging sharply at your nipple. “It makes me so wet when you’re like that. You always act so shy — even when you’re taking my cock six inches into your tight cunt.”
She released your breast and wrapped a hand around your neck, arching you up and allowing her to bite down on your neck, trailing soon-to-be dark bruises up to just below your jawline.
Soft moans and whimpers muffled by her hand wrapped around your neck only urged Taylor to fuck you harder. She fucked you with more effort, groaning breathily into your ear. Her other hand wrapped around your hip and she lifted your ass up, letting go of your neck to slide a pillow under your hips.
Taylor lifted herself onto her knees and placed both hands on your hips, pulling your ass back against her in time with when she thrusted forward, her hips meeting your ass with a sharp slap each time.
From across the room to the left of the bed by the bedroom door, her attention was caught by the mirror. She reached down and took a handful of your hair gently, turning your head and making you face the mirror.
She watched as your eyes met hers through your reflection and she felt herself grin watching how at her mercy you were, bent over and arched with your face pressed against the pillows and your hair in her tightened hand.
“Don’t I look good fucking you, baby?” she panted, grinning down at you, her other hand gripping at your waist and pulling you back against her.
“You look beautiful, Taylor,” you conceded adoringly.
“Look at how beautiful we look together. You’re so gorgeous, Y/N.” She leaned down so her body cocooned your back and she buried her face in your hair, both hands now grasping at your ass and hips harshly.
Taylor’s body meshed in perfect sync with yours, her long wavy hair spilling down her smooth back, her skin glistening with sweat, the black harness fastened around her hips. She reached her arm around and met your clit with her fingers, massaging against you in circles while she kissed your back.
“I love you, Y/N,” she said against your shoulder. “Come for me.”
You were the sweetest thing when you came, all whimpers and cries for her, always reaching for her to feel her close to you. She let go of your left hip and interlaced her hand with yours.
Taylor kissed your neck softly, listening closely as your breath caught in your throat then released. She slowed her thrusts and stopped playing with your clit, her other hand moving to rub up and down your side soothingly.
You started catching your breath and Taylor moved her lips further up to kiss beneath your jaw where it was warmest.
“I love you,” Taylor murmured.
“I love you too,” you replied tiredly with a long, satisfied exhale.
She helped you put your shirt back on because you were tired, then slid your underwear back on too and kissed her way up your thighs. She unfastened her harness then quickly brushed her hair in the mirror again before joining you back in bed. She turned the nightstand lamp off and got under the sheets with you.
With your eyes closed and your body facing Taylor’s, she watched you silently as you dozed with her arm tucked under her head.
Taylor was aware how shallow and, frankly, aimless much of her life was. She was successful in her career and successful amongst her peers — but all of it, for what? It wasn’t enough for her to do what she did without anything real.
You were the ground under her feet and the most special thing in her life — you made her life real, and you made her special.
Even in college she always knew at the back of her mind that she didn’t have what other people had; everyone else had supportive families and friends they’d known since high school and partners who loved them.
Taylor grew up with parents who were just as arrogant and abusive as they were rich, and a brother who grew up to be just like them. She didn’t quite know what to do when she knew that she wasn’t interested in the people she was friends with because it wasn’t ever like she had anyone else to talk with.
People who weren’t like the friends she didn’t care about weren’t interested in talking with someone like her.
When she moved to Los Angeles after graduation, she wanted to make new friends. She was going into entrepreneurship — however the fuck anyone defined that — but she had enough money to make mistakes and start something new.
In spite of that, she ended up in the exact same place as she was all of college — with people she wished she could grow out of and doing shit she couldn’t see herself doing forever.
Frankly, Taylor thought she was fucked up.
Maybe it was in her genes.
Nicky turned out just like their parents, after all, and maybe there was only just so far that she could make it on her own without giving up and resorting to living off of her parents’ money with no ambition and no plans for anything real.
But then she met you, and she wanted you like she’s never wanted anything else.
You were so creative and sensitive and smart, and it didn’t seem like you hated her. She took her time with you and tried not to scare you away, but no amount of careful effort could change the way she was.
But if there was any fateful reason she ended up in Los Angeles, it was for you.
When you told Taylor you were interested in her, you gave her the only real and special thing she’s ever looked forward to in her life.
Everything she did only ever made sense because of you. After meeting you, it just seemed like everything made sense for the very first time.
The only real things in her life all revolved around you — a shared home, a lover, a best friend, a future, a real life with someone who really loved her and put her before anything else.
Plus, if you really loved her as much as you always said, then maybe she wasn’t as fucked up as she thought she was. Even she started to make sense.
“Don’t ever leave me,” she whispered to you, then smiled as she watched you continue to sleep peacefully.
You looked the most beautiful when you didn’t know she was watching.
#taylor sloane#taylor sloane smut#taylor sloane x reader#ingrid goes west#ingrid goes west fanfiction#ingrid goes west smut#taylor sloane fanfiction#elizabeth olsen
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I read your Toby fics, and I really love your writing:D
I see your open with requests and I wanted to ask a Toby x final girl reader?
They just kept fighting against him, and he somehow gained a crush on the person he is supposed to kill? It's fine if you don't ;D
I WAS SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS I SQUEALED WHEN I READ IT!! i hope i do right by you, my lovely anon.
pairing: Ticci Toby x Final Girl F!Reader
part: 1, 2
summary: Toby thought you'd be an easy target since you were just a girl. He should've gone with the easy kill when he had the chance.
contains: getting chased by a man wielding two hatchets, slight pov switches but it's still in second person, idk what else to put
warning: violence, gore (more like imagery is gore-y), MEAN TOBY, reader gets hurt, toby gets hurt, me not knowing how to write fight/tense scenes and the logistics that go with them, barely any talking cuz i think toby would be too embarrassed by his stutter
word count: 1.6k
masterlist
a.n: when i read final girl in the request, i pictured reader wearing those outfits that female japanese horror game protags wear (picture fatal frame). i’m gonna keep the end ambiguous for you because my freak brain wants it all to work out perfectly for them, but the other part of my brain wants to keep it realistic cuz there’s no way in HELL i’d let someone forcing me to run live. if you want me to continue where i left off i’d be so glad to (and you can pick whichever type of “route” you want). ENJOY!!
The cool, night air gave you chills all over as your feet pounded against the soft forest floor under your feet. With every quick step you took, another short burst of breath escaped your lips. It felt like you were being pushed back by a sudden gust of wind, but the trees continued to look blurry in the corners in your eyes, and that was a good thing. You kept your pace – even if it felt like the breeze kept poking needles into the cuts on your skin.
You had decided to actually dress up today but stayed mindful enough for the fall weather. So, you weren’t exactly dressed for the occasion. Maybe next time you decide you want to get attacked by some psycho swinging hatchets; you’ll be a little more fucking prepared.
The whistling of said hatchet reminds you of why you were running. The sound of his weapon whirred by as it lodges itself deep into the bark of a tree. It’s already behind you as your mind yelled at your body to keep up. His other hatchet thwacks into a tree too close to your head and you scream involuntarily. You stumble to a stop stupidly, stabilize yourself, and drag your body to pivot and sprint to the right.
You weren’t sure how long you could keep going. But - as much as your lungs burned - that buzz that came from fighting for your life nagged at you like a bitch. You don’t care how much your body hurts because you will deal with the consequences later.
You’re not going to let yourself die.
Toby grunted as frustration and anger seethed in his veins. Wrapping his hands around the handle of his hatchet, he kept his eyes trained on you as he struggled to pull the thing free. He’d all but forgotten that the other one was a few feet away. He wasn’t normally fond of losing his favorite toys. He wouldn’t lose you either.
You were a stupid, stupid girl, after all.
His head violently twitched to the side compulsorily when he finally dislodged his weapon. A few wood chips flew out and landed on the muddy leaves below. He stood there, taking and letting out deep breaths.
He thinks about what might be going through your mind as you keep running. Maybe about how you were gonna get out of here, call the pigs, and have some nurse tend to the wounds he gave you. He smiled and tightened his grip on his hatchet as he fantasized about your naïve hope. He knew these woods like the back of his hand.
You wouldn’t make it out of here in one piece.
You slow down as the structure of a house comes into view. It fits the eerie atmosphere perfectly – chipping paint, broken windows. You’re not here to admire the neglected building, though, and you stomp up the small steps. The door lets out a low groan as you practically shove it open using your shoulder.
Slamming it behind you, your head whips around for the exit or some type of weapon. In the distance, you can hear the shrill whistle of the man outside, an involuntary thing, you’ve noticed. Just how long have you been fighting this freak? Enough to learn his quirks, that’s for sure.
Delving deeper into the house with hurried steps, you look around for a kitchen. Find a weapon, find a weapon, you repeat to yourself, the sound of your quick gasps filling your ears. You catch yourself on the doorway when you almost rush past it.
You barely stepped foot into the room before crying out when you felt something make impact with your back. The dull, heavy pressure sends painful shockwaves through you. Having the wind knocked out of you, the muscles in your back spasm and you buckle forward. He shoves you, and you wheeze as the edge of the rusted stove in front of you digs painfully into your stomach.
Your eyes immediately land on a cast iron skillet, and you think you have less than three seconds. You smash the pan against the side of his head, your grunt and the metal clang the only sounds in the room. You were confused as to why he wasn’t yelling out in pain. But your arms jerked upward, the heavy iron bludgeoning into his chin and he stumbles back.
Toby can hear the ringing in his ears with each blow to his head, his world spinning for far too long than he would’ve liked. He snarls and grabs your arm, throwing you in the direction of a wall hard - causing you to drop your makeshift weapon.
He looks at you, at how your legs shake as you try to steady the world around you. Look at you - you looked like a fawn. With your wide eyes and trembling form. Guess he’ll be your coyote, right? He’d sink his teeth into the side of your neck and stain his maw with your crimson flood. You were just pretty enough that he couldn’t wait to watch your eyes roll back when he greedily kept the air from inflating your lungs.
No, but you weren’t a fawn, were you? He’d seen more fight in you than any of the losers he was tasked to kill. They sobbed – they fucking begged on their hands and knees – to keep him from tearing them limb by limb. You were stronger than he thought you’d be, but you weren’t as agile as he was, he thought.
His face stretched as another wide, sinister grin spread across his face. His gloved hand tightened around the hatchet’s handle. He could hear the leather creak if he focused on anything other than your breathing.
You duck and stumble out of the way as you hear the spitting of wood above your head. He yells out a loud “fuck!” and attempts to yank the weapon free. You run out of the room and almost collide with another wall. You pivot on your heel because there was no way you’d run away from the front--
Gasping, you caught your balance before you could fall through the gaping hole on the floor. No time to jump, you told yourself, and you spun once again. Sprinting down the hall, you were met with the door to a room rather than any kind of exit.
You’d remember to set this house on fire when you made it out alive.
The room stunk of decaying carcasses and a thick powdery smell – the former outperforming the latter. You make your way to a second door and find yourself in a bathroom. You think there’s nothing here heavy enough to hurt him until your eyes land on a towel rod that hung loosely from the wall.
With a determined tug it comes out and you know he heard it. You can tell by the way you hear his heavy boots scramble in the direction of the room. You take a deep gulp of air and press your back against the wall next to the door.
The air was heavy with tension as the door creaked open. His shadowy figure stretched on the floor, and he walked right in. Would he turn around? Would he sense where you were before it was too late?
While he twisted around, you slam the rod into the side of his head. He’s disoriented for a moment, his head rolling to the side. Before he could react, you lifted your right leg, and the bottom of your shoe made contact with his stomach – sending him hurtling back.
Toby lets out a groan as he loses his balance and falls into a tub. His limbs sprawl out, legs and arms dangling from the sides. He attempts to move when a raw, guttural scream that causes his chest to tighten makes him stop. His eyes dilate as he stares at you wildly. Something about your scream has shaken him to his core. His head was still dizzy and a little numb from the force of your hit. And yet he couldn’t help but admire your resilience. He should be livid – breaking all your fingers and pulling your pretty little teeth out of your mouth one by one.
The man’s tics overtook him, his eyelids squeezed shut with a sudden intensity. He opens them again, and you’re still rooted in the same spot – breathing heavily. He’d never seen a girl look as hot as you did right now. He didn’t think that was even possible in your state. Your clothes, hair, and face were caked in mud and blood from your gashes. A girl like you should’ve been screaming in pain and crying for her mommy. But you stared at him with a burning defiance that caused his heart to pound violently against his chest.
His hatchet lay at your feet, and he realized that you had gotten him. You won. He could try attacking you again – he was bigger than you – but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He can’t fight back anymore; he just stares in what he can only assume is awe. Years of taking lives and witnessing more gore than anyone ever should, could not have prepared him for this moment. You didn’t stop – you just couldn’t. It was… admirable. Beautiful, even, if he was a more sentimental person.
You piqued his curiosity like nobody had ever done before. He wanted to know what made you tick. He wanted to study every movement, sound, and judgement you’d ever make. You could break all the bones in his body, and he’d come running back to watch you do it again when the Operator put him together again.
You astonished him.
So, what’ll you do now?
#ticci toby x reader#ticci toby x you#ticci toby x female reader#tobias erin rogers#toby rogers x reader#creepypasta fanfiction#fanfiction#creepypasta x reader#x reader#x female reader#x fem!reader#female y/n#reader insert#creepypasta ticci toby#ticci toby creepypasta#creepypasta fanfic#final girl
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your lips on mine.
summary: the queen has asked for you.
parings: rhaenyra Targaryen x Reader
word count: 1k.
Trigger warnings: fluff, sexual tension, a lot of tension, gay tension, kissing, soft rhaenyra, slight angst if you squint.
Living on Dragonstone has been rather interesting. Well, not much exciting happens everyday, you do miss king's landing, mostly because it was your home for the longest time, it held so many memories, but anywhere the queen went, you happily followed like an obedient dog.
She doesn’t even need a leash for you. One look and you're all hers. And she knows that.
As of late, you couldn’t help but notice there's been a distance between you and your queen. You know she’s busy running things, there’s a war coming, and happening at the same time. It seems it’ll never end.
You were the queen's guard, with many dirty secrets that could definitely get you killed.
But you wouldn’t mind that. Since your first time was with her, rhaenyra targaryen, the woman you love, who you’d die for, nothing beats that.
Maybe her best friend might be in the mix.
You’ll do anything for your queen.
Tonight you would have been doing your usual duties as the queens guard, and yet you find yourself in your room, waiting for an order. rhaenyra herself commanded you to stay in your room for the night, you were confused, slightly hurt, wondering what you did wrong, nothing came to mind. You would know if you had hurt her, said something bad, it would have haunted you.
You were always supposed to remain by her side.
Now you find yourself alone.
You didn’t like it.
There was a knock at your door, startling you away from your thoughts as you got up, you walked towards the door and opened it.
One of the queen's handmaidens was there.
“The queen has asked for you in her bed chambers.”
Oh, has she now?
You wanted to smile, but you needed to look professional in front of everyone, so they don’t suspect anything.
Though you weren’t going to be surprised if there were whispers around the place. Someone was always talking, they should be glad the queen or you haven’t found them.
The queen doesn’t tolerate that.
You headed your way through the halls to where the queens rested, wondering why she’s called now, not before, you weren’t complaining, by the gods did you miss her.
Making it to her door, breathing softly, trying to keep it together, as you closed your eyes, bringing your fist up to knock.
“Come in” you hear her sweet honey-eyed voice call out to you, she sounded beautiful like an angel, she was a goddess, fallen to this earth wearing the title queen as she rightfully should.
You went inside her chambers, it was warm, a fire was lit, there was a nice scent that flowed in her room, welcoming you, lavender and vanilla, you’ve been in many presence of royal, princesses, prince, whomever it may be, but none smelled quiet like rhaenyra.
And there she was, never failing to make you breathless, rhaenyra stood from her seat, there was a slight frown in her brow, causing concern to wash over you. You always worried for your queen, tonight there was something different in the air.
“My queen?” you spoke, your voice soft, not the usual strictness you were tired of showing to everyone else for formalities as a knight.
At least you got to breathe a little around her.
She hadn’t replied yet, you noticed she was fidgeting with her fingers together, a thing she does when she’s bothered by something, she was stuck in deep thought, you could see it on her face.
You stepped closer, the sound of the fire crackling breaking through the silence.
Your hand reached out, touching her face, she didn’t back away, you caressed her cheek.
“My love, what haunts you?” you asked, “we don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, but if you do wish to, I’ll be here to listen. Always.”
She smiled, staring up at you.
“I’ve realised i've been disregarding you” she said, you couldn’t help but frown, did she notice how upset you’ve been not always being with her?.
“It's fine, my queen” you chuckled nervously, your cheeks heating up. “You’re very busy and needed, there's a lot happening, I’m not as important-”
She placed a finger on your lips to stop you from rambling anymore.
“Don’t you ever talk to yourself like that, ever. You are important, especially to me” she spoke with such fire, you could feel your eyes welling up with tears, but you didn’t cry.
“Thank you, my queen.”
“Why are you thanking me?” she asked with an amused smile.
“Why shouldn’t I?” you say, smiling back at her.
Then she laughed, it made your heart flutter, it’s been a while since you heard her laugh, god, it was a wonderful sound, no music could ever sound as mesmerising as her.
“It's good to hear you laugh again, my queen.”
She blushes red, like she’s been caught.
“You never fail to cheer me up, my darling.”
It was like your heart came to a stop. It's been a while since she’s called you that, now you were a flustered mess, when were you not around her?. You found yourself staring at the floor, you looked up, feeling her fingers holding your chin, to make you look in her eyes, your breath hitched, you felt like you were on fire, maybe it was just the fireplace that happened to be on, no, it was just her.
She leaned in, you were never the one to pull away from her, always leaning into her, wanting to feel her all over you, her hand was placed on your neck, the other hand caressing your face. Her lips met yours, you kissed back, hungry for more, your heart felt like it was going to rip out of your chest, you wouldn’t mind dying right now.
For now though, you just wanted to enjoy the taste of her lips on yours.
#hotd x reader#hotd x you#hotd x y/n#rhaenyra targaryen x reader#rhaenyra targaryen x you#rhaenyra Targaryen imagine#rhaenyra targaryen fluff#rhaenyra targaryen fanfic
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part two here
cw: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI!!!! f!reader, peter is married and having thoughts of reader soo cheating? voyeurism, masturbation, peter getting off to you and miguel fucking:), not proofread
perv!peter b parker who comes in Miguel's control room (or whatever the fuck) ready to annoy the fuck out of him, when he’s suddenly very glad he didn’t bring his daughter with him as the obscene sounds from up above reach his ears.
“Such a good fuckin’ girl for me, mi vida. Look at you, dripping down my cock. Couldn’t even wait till I was finished hm?” if that wasn’t proof enough for what you guys were doing, then the sloppy sound of Miguel fucking his cock in your pussy gave it all away.
Peter felt as if someone threw cold water down his back, and he searches his brain for answers- something to justify the outline of his now hard cock in his pants. You were attractive, he wasn’t blind, but weirdly enough he’d never thought about you that way.
Until now, that is. Now, that he can hear your pretty moans and whimpers of Miguel’s name as you beg him to go faster, to fuck you deeper, to make you come.
Peter’s thankful that the floating platform is all the way up, and that he has no view of you, or else he’d never be able to get the picture of your body, of your face scrunched up in pleasure, out of his mind. It would ruin him.
In fact, Peter could see nothing except Miguel’s wide back, shoulders hunched over, no doubt holding your thighs up for easier access. Fuck, Peter could feel precum dripping down the tip of his cock, at the vile picture forming in his head.
He was so hard that it hurt, and he could feel the stinging of his eyes, tears gathering up fast. He wanted to touch himself so bad, but he couldn't. He shouldn’t.
“Hah- shit. What if someone came in here, bebita? hear you like this? See you like this? You'd like that, wouldn’t you? Ffuck you tightened up so much when I said that. Such a little slut for me. Say it.”
Peter turns around, ready to walk out the door. He shouldn’t be here, he wasn’t allowed to be here during this. He should go home. MJ was waiting for him to- Fuck, MJ. He has a wife. What the fuck was he doing? He-
“Yes! yes fuck, i want everyone to know that im a good slut for you!Ah-want them to see me like this pleasepleaseplease”
Peter clamps a hand over his mouth, and moans, letting himself fall against the wall, elbow propped up against the surface to keep him upright, and he bites his lip roughly, keeping his mouth shut just so that he could palm himself through his sweatpants.
God, fuck, he wanted to see you so badly. He wanted to be the one fucking you, to be the one pulling those sounds from you. Hell, he’d let you pull those sounds from him. he’d do anything - using you or being used by you. Peter couldn't decide which thought excited him more.
His last remaining morals were thrown out the window when you cried out, and he could hear you thrash around, Miguel muttering praises and encouraging words that fall deaf on peter’s ears. By that point, Peter had completely tuned out any sound Miguel made, choosing to focus on your pleas and cries.
Peter was full on jerking his cock now, sweatpants bunched up at his ankles, as he fucks the lame excuse of a hole his hand made, all the while imagining that it’s you. He was timing his thrusts to the sound of your broken moans, having to bite on his forearm to keep quiet as he whimpers and grunts, drool running down his chin.
Unbeknownst to Peter, the platform, slowly but surely, makes its way down to the floor. After all, even if Peter made sure he was being quiet, that was still loud as fuck to Miguel's ears, who had heard him the minute he stepped in the room.
2023 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.
#•ूᡣ𐭩 — peter b#•ूᡣ𐭩 — miguel#miguel o'hara x reader#peter b parker x reader#peter b parker x reader smut#miguel ohara smut#miguel ohara x reader
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Can I please request Bill thinking he finally found a human who won't betray him, someone he really enjoyed the company of (but would never admit to that because Bill) only to find them trying to destroy the portal?
This is long as shit, be warned and I tried to keep bill in character as much as possible but he might be ooc at some points.
Your first meeting with Bill was one he didn’t expect. When faced with something you know isn’t normal, the response Bill was expecting was you running away until you were out of sight, talking off the ears of anyone who’d head your warning but you instead smiled at him.
‘Nice bow tie and top hat sentient triangle.’ You said.
‘The names Bill Cipher, so you can stop calling me that name, I find it rather insulting, and thanks! I dress to impress but most people just run away or scream bloody murder to appreciate my effort to look presentable’ he replies, finding himself a new human pet to play with after swearing to himself that Sixer would be the last, Bill was a liar and he knew it, messing with humans and destroying their physique was the most genuine fun he’s had in a long, long while.
This was merely the begging of yours and Bills weird friendship and it was only going to get weirder from this point onwards.
Being friends with a sentient triangle dream demon was…a experience indeed as you’d often wake to him floating above you, drinking something through a silly straw and wearing a hat unlike the usual slim black top hat he wore, only to find out that he had somehow snuck several chicken into your room that had scaly dragon legs and could breath fire.
That took a while for you to get ride of them with a wooden broom and not have it set on fire when the chickens retaliate with fire.
‘How did you find such things?’ You’d ask Bill when sitting down to eat breakfast.
He shrugs. ‘You search for a realm that swaps certain anatomy of animals and play a demented game of mix and match to see what monstrosities to humanity could be made and bingo! Infinite possibilities of scaring or scaring people for the rest of their lives! ha ha!’
‘And chickens with dragon feet and could breath fire is your go to choice, wasn’t there anything else you could’ve chosen from?’ You inquired as you took a bite of your breakfast and immediately grimacing when you felt something was off.
‘Oh sure there was and- oh you’ve found where I put my mealworms from last week.’ Bill casually told you as he plays with his silly straw while you spat your breakfast out into a nearby bin, wiped your mouth before pushing the plate away from you as your appetite was ruined.
'glad to be of help. buddy.' you replied as you decided that it would be best to wait for bill to disappear before attempting to eat and or drink again.
As the weeks progress Bill found himself enjoying your company more than he originally suspected, sure you were fun to mess with and play impractical pranks on from time to time. However -and he’ll never admit this ever- he had come to actually enjoy spending time with you and getting to know you outside of his personal human plaything.
Bill begrudgingly remembered your least favourite family member and why, your favourite colour, your first pets name and so much more that he would deem unimportant; to things that were deep and personal to you such as your fear of being alone or not taken seriously enough. To which he offered some -albeit questionable- advice.
‘Listen if everyone takes themselves seriously or someone wants everyone else to take them seriously, then who’s going to laugh at kids when they fall over, or at people who make an fool of themselves as they fall upon their own sword of hubris.’ Bill tells you once as you both sat on the roof of your home, star gazing.
‘And what am I meant to take away from all that ?’ You asked, not understanding what he was getting with this.
‘Don’t take yourself too seriously or expect others to either when you know that version of yourself will be someone you’ll sooner regret wishing for.’ Bill responded.
‘Do you miss home?’ You then asked him out of the blue and Bill couldn’t help but be a little taken aback by it.
‘Home..’ bill trailed off as he took his hat off, reached a hand inside and pulled out a glowing atom, the remains of his home. ‘This is what remains of my home.’ He tells you rather sombrely, remembering the last time he told a human of his origins, only for him to dedicate himself into destroying him.
‘I’m..I’m so sorry I didn’t-‘ you’d tried to apologise but bill held up a hand as he returned the remains of his home back into his top hat before putting it back on his head.
‘It’s fine. I was bound to tell you about that sooner or later.’ He waves his hand but you could tell you struck a nerve.
‘Sooo…what happened to your home, only if you don’t mind me asking.’ - you
‘It was destroyed by a monster.’ Bill answered with a distant look in his eye.
‘As stupid as this will probably sound to you but you’ll always have a home with me, I hope you know that.’ You told him with the most genuine smile across your face and Bill couldn’t help but feel…touched by your words. He’s thrown and done everything to push you to the brink and all you’ve done was withstand him and his shenanigans all the while standing your ground.
‘You’re a strange human and your sentimentality makes me physically sick but…I guess I appreciate the thought.’ Bill had to force himself to say, he might as well have swallowed down stones with how hard it seemed for him to say anything remotely considerate. You were quite possibly the only human that showed him kindness and compassion and that made the dream demon feel weird and out of his depth.
Now that Bill was thinking about it not once had you ever given him a reason to distrust you, sure he was suspicious of you at first, but overtime you have proven yourself to be the most trustworthy person in his long, long life. You had made him feel unlike anything he’s felt before and that made him on edge, just in the case that he was being lured into a false sense of security later down the line, but nope you didn’t do such a thing and stayed open and honest him no matter what.
It almost made bill feel bad about the shit he put you through but soon he’d come to regret saying these words, for not even a week later and Bill caught you red handed destroying his portal after searching the house for you when you didn’t greet him like usual.
‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!’ He screamed, his body burning brightly at the betrayal you’ve just committed, was everything you said a lie? Were you just as good at pulling people along as he was? How long have you been waiting for this exact moment to get back at him?
‘What does it look like, I’m destroying the portal.’ Your reply was stone cold as you continued to dismantle the portal piece by piece while Bill shouted profanities at you.
‘YOU LIED TO ME!’ - bill
‘That’s cute coming from someone who takes sick enjoyment in breaking every human he comes across, pushing them into utter madness with no remorse!’ You chuckled humourlessly as you looked at the dream demon who looked about ready to either cry or combust.
‘YOU LIED TO ME!’ Bill repeated as his anger only grew stronger the more he began to think back on all of your heart to heart moments and wonder whether they were fake too? Did you not mean it when you said that he had a home with you?
‘I didn’t lie, I just didn’t tell you the whole truth.’ You retorted. ‘Now are you going to shut up and kill me or keep ranting on how I somehow betrayed you because either way I don’t care.’ You added as you watched the triangular demon closely.
‘Kill you? Oh no sweetie, you’ve just earned a fate WORSE THEN DEATH! Eternal torture until you speak the truth and then torture you so more because I find your pathetic humans pain funny!’ Bill laughed maniacally. ‘And to think I was starting to like you, you just had to go and stab me in the back!’
You shrug, trying to hide how scared you were in this moment, knowing that even if you did scream for help it would be far too late by the time Ford, Stan or either dipper or Mabel to save you and you were okay with that. ‘First time for everything right?’ You asked with a smile. ‘I’m sure you’ll get use to it sooner or later.’
Bill’s eye was wide and looking maniacal in the moment as his voice was oddly and unnervingly calm that it froze your blood. ‘You humans might act brave in the face of danger, but what I’m capable will have you wishing you never picked up that wrench or tried playing the hero. For playtime is over.’
#gravity falls x reader#gravity falls imagine#gravity falls imagines#gravity Falls x you#gravity falls#the book of bill#bill cipher x you#bill cipher imagine#bill cipher imagines#bill cipher x reader
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Mine- Christopher Sturniolo
Summary: You’re on stream with the triplets and you come on the screen and the chat goes CRAZY, starts hitting on you, calling you beautiful, andChris gets a little jealous and decides to remind you of who you belong to…
Warnings: SMUTTTT, Dom!Chris,Sub!Reader, p in v, Unprotected sex (practice safe sex please), degradation, praising, oral (fem receiving), (idk what else i missed)
A/N: UMMM THIS WAS REQUESTED A LONG TIME AGO BUT TY FOR REQ THIS SO SORRY ITS TAKEN ME SO LONG, Chris is low-key like ROUGH in this.. Could u tell I'm ovulating
PSA: THIS IS MY WORK PLEASE AND THANK YOU DO NOT USE MY WORK AT ALL
Chris and I have been dating in the public eye for about 2 ish weeks now, but in private it's been 2 years, surprisingly the fans took it a lot better than he and I both expected. I've received more love than hate, occasionally I'll get a 14-year-old girl in my DMs or comment section talking about stealing her man or whatever.
Today was the first time the Triplets had streamed on their Twitch channel in a couple of months now, so obviously Chris invited me for our first actual Twitch stream since being out in the public eye.
“MATT YOU FUCKING SUCK, HOW DID YOU ALREADY DIE AFTER BEING IN A MATCH FOR 3 MINUTES” Chris yells through his headset.
“Hey, baby...” i slowly walk a little timid after trying to compose myself to join the stream.
Chris squeals softly excited to see me finally join the stream “Hi ma, glad to see you finally keeping me company” he pats his lap for me to sit, and I smile softly adjusting myself on his thigh.
I giggled softly looking through the chat. “Hey someone named Ellie just subscribed”
“SHES A PRO ALREADY” Nick yells.
Instead of focusing on the game, Chris was playing I found myself looking through their chat.
Sturnfan626: Y/N IF YOU AND CHRIS BREAK UP BE MINEE
The4thtriplet: Shes stunning oh my god
Crybaby19853: this is how I find out Chris has a girlfriend? But wait why is she like absolutely beautiful.
The chat was flooding with compliments about me and how Chris bagged me or them not understanding how Chris pulled me.
“Awe Chris your fans are so sweet look” I smiled at him as he glanced at the chat screen his eyes darkened watching 35k people hitting on me, and even a couple wanting me to start an Onlyfans which to protect my sanity and privacy I would never.
“Yeah I know I got a hot girlfriend” Chris sort of rolls his eyes before focusing his eyes back to the screen.
“Thank you, everyone,” I softly giggle as Chris’ hand snaked around my waist gripping it a little hard.
I was bombarded with comments in the chat, responding to questions about Chris and me while the boys kept playing Fortnite. Unbeknownst to me, it was disturbing Chris, as he began muttering curse words under his breath, a rare occurrence unless he's truly angry.
“I don't know about you guys but I'm super fucking tired,” Chris says while clicking out of the match, now using both of his hands and wrapping them around my waist.
“BYE EVERYONE WE LOVE YOU SO MUCH THANK YOU FOR JOINING OUR STREAM TONIGHT” Nick yells kissing the camera.
“we’ll see you when we see you,” Matt says ending the stream
Chris groans as the stream ends leaning back in his chair and running his fingers through his hair. “Get on the bed”
“Hm?” I turn my head to face him furrowing my eyebrows.
“You fucking heard me Y/N, don’t be a fucking stubborn brat” Chris says coldly.
“O-okay” I obeyed hopping off his lap walking around to the bed and lying down resting myself on my elbows.
Chris walked over hovering over me between my legs and caressing my cheek with his thumb “Such a greedy fucking whore,” he chuckled softly “fishing for compliments from other people” he shook his head leaning down and colliding his lips with mine hungrily. He wrapped his hand around my throat applying just the right amount of pressure getting a soft moan out of me, sending an invitation to explore my mouth. While exploring my mouth his hand travels down my body yanking down the sleep shorts I walked around the house in all day making them bunch up around my ankles. He pulls away softly smirking down at me fully removing my underwear and the rest of my shorts throwing them across the room.
He settles between my legs using his finger and gliding it up and down my wet, aching pussy. “So fucking beautiful,” he says as his voice drops into a husk. He analyzes my face as he slowly glides his finger into me watching as my breath hitches. “And so fucking wet” he chuckled dipping his head down and kitty-licking my clit while pumping his finger in and out of me.
“O-oh s-s-shit Chris” i moan out “s-so fucking good”
He harshly sucks my clit taking it between his teeth while he adds a second finger into me curling his finger up and hitting that hard-to-reach spot.
My back arches off the mattress watching him enjoy every inch of me in his mouth. he began pumping faster into me making my moans turn into whimpers “S-So f-fucking close” I breath out.
Chris groans against the taste of my arousal all over his mouth “Cum” he mutters diving into my pussy like his last meal, pumping faster in and out of me.
“CHRIS” I squeal finally snapping that knot in my abdomen all over his mouth and fingers. I sit up balancing my weight against my elbows looking at him and wiping his mouth against his forearm and undressing himself.
“The first one was free, you’re working for the next few” he grins beginning to take off his boxers as his aching, red cock.
My eyes widened “W-what?” I stuttered.
“You didn't think I was done with you, did you?” he comes now laying between my legs, his face just inches away from mine, and rubbing his cock through my sensitive folds.
I softly nodded batting my eyelashes at him. “Oh? Don't be so naive baby” he coos, continuing to rub his tip against my folds. “I'm far from done with you” his chuckle was almost sadistic, I'd never seen him like this but holy mother of pearl it was turning me on so fucking fast.
He aligned his cock with my entrance pushing his tip in slowly then pulling back out a couple of times, teasing my entrance, making me whine from the loss of contact. “You want it?” he says grabbing my chin and making me look at him.
I nodded violently stuffing my bottom lip out for him. “You beg for what you want Y/N” his voice turned husk.
“P-please Chris” I whined as his tip continued to push in and out of me.
“Please what, princess?” he glides his thumb over my bottom lip while giving me a faux sympathy look on his face.
“P-please fuck me, Chris,” I stated confidently swallowing a lump in my throat.
He chuckles before pushing his length farther into me “Such a pretty mouth, begging so nicely” he smirks fully bottoming out in me, making my eyes touch my brain.
"God you don't know how bad I missed fucking this little pussy of yours," Chris smirked. "That's right, princess. I want you until you see fucking stars. I won't even fucking stop if someone sees or hears. You're mine, understand? You're my little fuck toy," he husked.
I whimpered at his words. I'd never been more aroused than I was right then. He began to regain his fast pace, as I cried out in pleasure.
"Fuck, Chris!" I shouted. This seemed to turn Chris on even more as he thrust into me even harder, making my tits bounce.
"Chris, Chris, Chris," I moaned.
Chris grunted, leaned his head towards my neck, and latched his lips onto my soft skin. He took my skin in between his teeth and sucked forcefully.
"That's gonna leave a mark, Chris, stop," I Whined.
He pulled away and smirked. "I know, that's the point, you dirty little slut, I want people to see you belong to ME” his thrusts maintained a brutal pace while attacking my cervix.
“F-Fu-Fuckk” I stuttered as my legs began to shake around his torso. “Cl-Close” I choked out.
“No” his voice husked in my ear as his hand made a fist next to my head to support his weight and his harsh movements. “Do you deserve to cum?” he hummed in my ear.
“Y-yes p-lease, Chris” I begged between my moans.
“You Cum with me or not at all got it?” he grunts out sitting up and wrapping his hand around my throat and squeezing the sides just enough to make the pleasure more intensifying.
“Mhm,” I moaned out looking at him and giving him doe-eyes that I knew he couldn't resist.
“Nu-uh, words, understand?” he squeezed my throat a little harder.
“Y-Yes s-Sir” i wept, the pleasure of him repeatedly pounding my cervix and the way his veins popped out of his forearm while wrapped around my throat became almost uncontrollable, the knot in my stomach could burst at any moment now.
He smirked at my response “My greedy girl, just so pitiful, begging for that release,” he grunted “Hold it for a couple of seconds okay, beautiful? Can you do that for me?” he bit his lip removing his hand from my throat to brush the hair on my face away, smiling down at me.
“C-Cant” I shook my head squeezing my eyes shut as tears of overstimulation began forming at the corners of my eyes.
“Yes, you can pretty girl, I'm almost there alright? Just keep squeezing me so good baby” he moves his hand down my body slowly and agonizing down to my clit and toying with it while maintaining his attack on my pussy.
“FUCK” I squeal arching my back off the bed. My moans became whimpers as my makeup began to run from the tears now streaming down my face “C-Cum-Cumming” I let out a scream of pleasure as my orgasm hit me like 14 busses and I squirted all over him and everything else in the way.
“That's it,” he coos “Keep cumming for me, let it all out” he continued as his thrusts became sloppier chasing after his own release. 
“Such a good fucking girl for me baby,” he smiles as his last couple of thrusts in me painted my once pink walls a nice shade of white. He slowly pulls out of me being careful not to hurt me. “Let me clean you up yeah?” his smile made me smile back at him as he left quickly to his bathroom to grab a lukewarm washrag. He slowly drags it down my legs and carefully wipes my cum covered pussy making me wince “I know ma, I know” he coos throwing the rag into the pile of clothes we left on the floor.
“You okay?” he chuckled admiring my fucked-out expression.
“Mhm, I'm good” I smiled moving my body to face his
“I wasn't too rough on you was I?” he smiles moving my hair behind my ears.
“Honestly, you were perfect” I smiled leaning into his touch.
“I'm sorry I got a little possessive, I'm trying to get used to the whole ‘the public relationship’ type thing, I'm still used to keeping you my little secret,” he says softly kissing my forehead and pulling my body closer to his.
A pound at the door quickly broke up this once peaceful pillow talk moment “HEY FREAKS!” Nick yells “SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO FUCKING SLEEP” he continued before walking away from the door and slamming his own door.
Chris and I chuckled as I nuzzled my head into his chest. “Do you wanna watch Sponge Bob? Or gossip girl?” he says running his fingers through my hair
“Whatever you want” I smiled before fastly falling asleep wrapped in his arms.
Chris looked at me falling asleep on him smiled down at me shook his head, admiring how peaceful and soundly I slept intertwined with his own body.
A/N PT2: GUYS IDK WHAT HORMONE MONSTER ATTACKED ME BUT LIKE I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED THIS!! I love you all and i hope you all have a blessed and amazing day! 🩷
#Spotify#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo#chris sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo fandom#sturniolo fan fic#chris sturniolo fanfic#fan fic writing#fan fiction#fanfic#fandom
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lando + bandaging/stitching up an injury :)))) i love love love your writing!!!!!
i think about his nose scar a lot. i know he’s told some details about what happened but i’m throwing most of that out the window for fic purposes. also thank you🥰
tw blood, mild descriptions of a wound
You’re on the way back with drinks for you, Lando and another friend when there’s suddenly a commotion coming from the direction you’re headed. Glass shattering, someone that sounds a lot like Lando swearing loudly. The moment you hear it you’d really like to rush over there— but it’s a bit difficult with three full pint glasses held in your hands.
You charge through the crowd, elbowing and shoving as much as you can without spilling your drinks— you find Lando with his hand clutched over his nose, blood running through his fingers, down his wrist. There’s a loose gathering of people around him but you’re barely paying attention to them. You put the pint glasses down on the nearest table and shove through to Lando, indiscriminate of who you’re forcing out of your way.
“Lan,” you put a hand on his shoulder, a hand gently on his elbow, “Lan, what happened?”
He says something you can’t understand. There’s music, chatter, and a person you’re not particularly fond of is trying to take charge of the situation. Saying irrelevant things to people, directing them places and then trying to pull you away from Lando. Suddenly they’ve got a hand tugging on your elbow, saying,
“Dude, give him space, give him space.”
Then they’re shoving dirty bar napkins into Lando’s unoccupied hand and you’ve had fucking enough.
“Give me one sec, Lan,” you pat him gently on the shoulder and then whirl around to face the source of your ire, “First of all, do not touch me,”
Their hand slips from your elbow immediately as they reel back a few steps, something shocked passing across their face.
“Second,” you bite, “If you want to do something actually useful, go to the bar, ask for the first aid kit and bring it to me right now. Can you do that?”
They blink, half-stutter, “Yeah, yeah, okay. Done.”
You’re glad to see them turn tail and push through the crowd. You sigh, ask another friend to “please tell Martin about Lando. He’s over on the decks,” and then tell everyone else they need to back off unless you ask for help. You turn your attention back to Lando, grateful for your experience wrangling teenagers which is apparently a lot like wrangling drunk adults around an accident.
“Sorry,” you sigh, hands back on him, “Can you tell me what happened?”
“Er, my glass broke.”
“Your glass broke?”, you repeat, and then, “Lan, babe, can you move your hand please?”
“Mm. I dunno.”
“Sweetheart,” you say, the pet names you try not to use for him slipping out of your mouth with alarming frequency, “C’mon.”
Someone stuffs a wad of apparently clean napkins into your hand and then the first aid kit you’d asked for is on the table next to you. You unzip it, flipping it open and gathering supplies as Lando finally musters the courage to move his hand from the injury.
“It’s bad,” he says matter-of-factly, now fixated on the blood trailing down his arm, “It feels bad.”
“I’ll look,” you sigh, shuffling your high-stool closer to him so your thighs are touching, “Don’t freak out.”
You can hear him, breathing a little ragged with nerves. His unbloodied arm grabs at your jumper, clutches there. You lean into him, using a napkin to dab at the blood spilling down his nose. It’s not that bad— or it’s not bleeding profusely anymore. You don’t see any glass, just a two-centimetre wide gash on the bridge of his nose.
“Lan,” you say, reaching for a cotton ball to press there, guiding his hand to hold it, “Lando. It’s fine.”
He scrunches his nose, winces when it hurts, “Are you sure?”
You nod, grabbing napkins to wipe up his arm which you meant for him to attend to, “Promise. It’s not deep. Just need to wait for the bleeding to slow down a bit.”
You wipe blood off the tan skin of his forearm, but it’s dried a bit so you’re more just smearing it around. You manage what you can, leave the rest for later.
“Okay,” Lando says finally, sounding a little less shaky now, a little more reassured by you.
You cant help but smile to yourself as you move Lando’s other hand and the now red cotton ball. You pour a bit of saline on the cut and you’re pleased to spot no glass residue. And to find that it’s not too deep— it’s a sizeable gash but it hasn’t done anything scary like hit bone and it’s not bleeding much now. It seems to have just scraped a good layer of skin off.
You lean back and level Lando with a look. He returns the look with apparent apprehension, mouth curled into a frown, green eyes wide with worry.
“What?”, he asks.
“I’ve gotta put antiseptic on it, bub.”
He groans, grits his teeth and tips his head back instead of wincing.
“Okay,” still through gritted teeth, “Do it.”
You ready a cotton swab with a good glug of antiseptic on it. Moving again to loom over Lando. You steady his head with your fingers on his chin, not gripping hard but enough to remind him to stay still.
“Y’know,” you say, going for it right away with the cotton ball— he hisses through his teeth, a prolonged thing, “This’ll leave a scar.”
“Ugh,” he groans, less at what you’re saying, more at the way you’re covering his entire nose in antiseptic, “Girls like that don’t they?”
You shrug, letting the antiseptic dry, letting the sting subside. You ready a bandaid— they’re Disney Princess themed, thrown in there with the standard first aid kit bandaids. You’ve made an executive decision that he needs to have Princess Aurora plastered across his nose for the rest of the day.
“I guess,” you answer, imagining Lando’s nose with a permanent mark on it, “It’s cute. Quirky.”
“You think?”, he looks at you expectantly.
You snort, peeling the bandaid from its wrapping, “I have no idea, Lan. Maybe it’ll be horrific.”
He makes an offended noise, shaking his head as you tip forward to press the Aurora bandaid across his nose. You smooth it down on both sides just as Martin materialises from the crowd, carrying new drinks for the three of you. Condensation rolling down the sides of the beer glasses.
“Ah, mate,” Lando admonishes, reaching around you to take a beer, “You didn’t have to stop the set for me.”
Martin shrugs, “Eh,” he practically forces a beer into your hand, eyes shining with something that’s maybe a little mischievous, “It’s no worries. But, you clearly have someone taking care of you.”
He winks slyly at you— you feel the urge to punch him bubble up in your chest. You take a gulp of your drink to stymie the feeling, try to step away from Lando.
Lando grabs you. His arm going around your shoulder as he slips off his stool, pulling you to him. You knock your shoulder into his, bounce back and try not to press into his side.
“You don’t mean that,” Lando says later— once Martin has been filled in, you’ve been told the sequence of events leading up to the cut, and you’re another beer deep.
“Huh,” you raise an eyebrow, your mouth on the straw of your tequila apple juice, “Whaddya mean?”
“That it’ll look horrific?”
You sigh, giggle a bit, “No, Lan. Course not.”
“You think girls will like it?”, he’s smirking a little, pleased at the idea, then, hands on your shoulders, “Would you like it? You’re a girl.”
You roll your eyes, ignoring the thing in your gut, “Well, babe. It’s covered by a princess bandaid right now, but sure, yeah— it’ll be cute. Hot even.”
He smushes you to his chest without warning and if his smile stretches even wider for it then so what.
✨lets discuss: best friend!reader using so many pet names when lando needs reassurance because its her internal dialogue that she usually has the presence of mind to filter out— but when she’s taking care of him she’s not bothered to focus on cutting them because her only priority is lando😁😁😁 on that note best friend!reader would be a total wreck if lando got in an accident on track 😋
send me a prompt/request + a driver and i’ll write something. pls check if my requests are open 💖
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