#let's see what 2024 holds :eyes:

[smallblueandloud]

2023 fic roundup

2023 was the year of the comeback. in 2021, i wrote about 25k; in 2022, i didn't even keep track. meanwhile, my total wordcount last year was 119,226 words. while that doesn't come close to my 200k from 2020, i am arguably prouder of last year and what it represented. my writing isn't dead! my abilities haven't vanished! i can have fun making art again :D

as always, the summer was the most productive for me. you can see that i wrote more in the spring than the fall -- this roughly corresponds to how i was doing during those times, lol. i had a Much Better spring semester than the fall. september was very rough, i had a very bad time, and it meant my mental health suffered for the rest of the year. but hey, at least i was writing essays :')

some more scattered thoughts:

i was arguably pretty consistent this year? may/june/july all had about the same wordcount (roughly) and i think that's cool. my goal isn't to be doing NaNos, it's to be writing consistently, so i'm very happy with this

ao3 says i published 67k in 2023. minus the first chapter of something out of a dream, which was published in 2020, i believe that's 65k or so total. i wrote 72k of fanfic last year, meaning that there's about 8k from last year still sitting in my google drive (a rough eyeball at my WIPs folder confirms this). these numbers don't QUITE make sense to me, since i used a fair bit of old material in what i published last year, but i'm not going to think about it too hard

i published fic for a whopping fifteen fandoms in 2023. nine of those were fandoms i'd never published anything for before! i am so, so proud of this stat. i remain multifandom as all hell and seeing that represented in my work makes me really :D

two fics -- be amazed by the sky and i got your back (and you got mine) -- were crossovers! i'd only ever written one crossover before (stay all day in the sun, which i still love dearly) and it was fun to play in these playgrounds (mostly by sticking the librarians into other universes, xD)

i published 25 fics last year! and five of those fics were less than 1k, which i also really love. this year i really tried to let go of my idea that my fics Had to be more than 4k (and super polished) before they could see the light of day. i think my writing has been more fun and less stressful because of that.

i polished off 4 multi-year WIPs last year: but the verse is sweet, something out of a dream, don't wanna see you go (but it's not forever), and all we can do today. it felt so, so good to finally get those out there. the only one i have left from The Great Hiatus of 2021-2022 is éponine de bergerac. i will finish that someday, but i'm letting her take her time, because she deserves it. (i DID make good progress on that fic, which is something at least!)

most popular fic of the year was sit there in your heartache, which. is a spirk fic written right after a relevant episode, so not a surprise lol. the fic that surprised me most is actually the sisterhood of the travelling main character plotpoints -- i kinda expected that one to vanish quietly, but the hatchetfield fandom is WAY more active than i expected! which is very cool :D

the fic with the fewest hits was sidenote, which doesn't surprise me, since the librarians isn't a very active fandom and it's a rareship within the fandom anyway. the people who DID read it were very sweet, so i am very grateful for them. (i'm doing fic with the fewest hits because i feel like it's better to focus on that than What Didn't Get Kudos)

i started 2024 with 5 WIPs. i actually already finished one (and then immediately started its sequel, whoops) (shoutout to the ds9 modern au, i'll make a real post about that sometime). none of these fics are particularly progressed, but i'll keep working on them and try to find the Finishing A Project Dopamine from ficlets if i need it.

i didn't really have any Writing Goals for 2023 aside from doing any writing at all, lol. i think for 2024 i want to try to get more consistent with my writing -- instead of doing x number of words per month (which usually happen over 3-4 Big Writing Days), i'd rather try to write for 5 days out of every week, or something like that. we'll see what i can get done.

in the meantime: thank you guys for listening. i'm proud of what i did last year, and i'm excited to see what happens next year :D

[silkjade]

WICKED DRAGON, LAY WASTE TO ME

⤀ synopsis: neuvillette has always been the gentlest of lovers—and so tonight you ask him not to hold back ⤀ cw: afab!reader, unprotected + rough sex, size kink, praise, overstimulation, breeding + creampie, marking, monsterfucking (dragon cock), cervix fucking, multiple orgasms, dumbification, mentions of mates, lil bit of dom!neuvi (??) but he is still sweet — mdni || ꒰ 8.4k wc ꒱ ⤀ notes: leviathan fic for leviathan neuv ( i’m not talking abt his constellation ) rbs + feedback are always vry much appreciated ♡

“Well? What do you think?” You come home, twirling before him in a gown, different than the one you had left in. The short hem at the front lifts mischievously, teasing just a peek of what lies underneath, while the longer, flouncing layers of skirts behind you, wrap flirtatiously around your legs. Neuvillette feels his throat run dry.

“Navia and Clorinde thought it was high time I changed my look, and you know I can’t ever say no to Chioriya Boutique.” 

While he’s spent the better part of the night reviewing court documents in the parlor, you have been out with Navia and Clorinde, who he thinks have perhaps plotted to kill him. ‘Girls’ night,’ you had called it.

Draped in a vivid palette of the finest fabrics, decorated interchangeably with delicate metalwork and dainty ribbons, the blush on his pale skin is ever-present as he rakes his eyes up and down your body. The dark, patterned stockings, squeezing your thighs just enough, so that supple flesh spills obscenely over the top, the tight, whale-boned embrace of your corset, accentuating the curves of your waist, and pushing upwards the swell of your breasts…

A coy smile graces your features when you catch how his throat bobs in his silence. Giggling, you lean down, tracing the tip of your finger up the contours of his neck, skimming the gentle curve beneath his chin until you’ve tilted his gaze to yours. “Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, got nothing to say?”

How can he even think, much less find the right words to say, when the familiar scent of your perfume fills his head with indecent, lascivious thoughts? Everything about you is intoxicating, almost insidiously attractive, so would it suffice to say that he’d much rather see your pretty, new dress abandoned somewhere on the floor? 

That first pulse of arousal translates into the first twitch of his cock, and oh how he wishes to kiss away your teasing little grin, but his lust-driven eyes are drawn to the miniscule movements of your bodice sleeve, predatory as he watches how it begins to shift, ever so slowly, off your shoulders. 

“If you don’t like it, then perhaps…” You loosely roll your shoulder, letting the sleeve slide right off. “…you’d like to help me undress?”

That, he will gladly do. His hands fly to your waist, dragging you down into a straddle over his hips. 

“Temptress,” he murmurs into the skin of your neck, distracting you with a featherlight kiss as his nimble fingers waste no time in undoing the delicate clasps of your bodice, leaving the heavy outer garment to tumble off your shoulders, abandoned in a pile at your waist. 

Cool air licks at the now exposed skin, though it’s nothing compared to the warmth of his lips as he slots his mouth against yours, gently coaxing you open with a subtle swipe of his tongue. Your eyes flutter shut in honeyed complacence, allowing Neuvillette to kiss you slow and sweet; impassioned, ardent, each kiss an oath of love and longing and lust. 

Desire blooms like romaritime flowers upon water, and you just know the tension underneath his placid exterior, is ready to burst. It’s prevalent in the way his muscles grow taut, tense beneath your every touch, fighting to hold himself back as your legs squeeze around his hips. Demonstrated, again, by how he pulls apart your corset, impatient and haphazard as he unlaces each cross, before tossing it to the ground, forgotten. And of course, only you can attest to the searing sensations of his escalating kisses—gentle wisps, once faint and docile, now wanton and heated with depravity. 

You can already feel it in your chest, in your bones, in the wetness that’s begun to form between your legs; maybe it’s the anticipation, but despite the layers of clothing you’ve already shed, you find it even harder now to breathe, especially as he holds you so close, body pressed against yours, while he traces the bare curve of your neck with his lips. 

For one with such a carefully crafted visage of elegance and poise, Neuvillette becomes sloppier as his restraint fades and lust seeps through the cracks. Something about you drives him wild, draws out the more carnal side of him that he so desperately seeks to hide away from you, who he could never even dream of hurting. 

But perhaps he’s spent too much time amongst humans. Or perhaps he understands their nature more than he had initially believed, for he makes the most human mistake of all in letting his control slip—enough that his fangs graze upon your sensitive skin, sending a shiver that reaches all the way down to your core, eliciting a moan so mellifluous, he cannot help but utter a sigh of strained content as the undeniably sweet sound reaches his ears.

“If we don’t stop now, I’m afraid I won’t be able to hold back,” he mutters, tongue laving over the spot in apology. It doesn’t help that you voluntarily crane your neck, offering him even more access in your heated bliss. His fingers dig into your waist in a silent plea to still your rolling hips. 

“So don’t,” you breathe. “Don’t hold back tonight.” Desperate to have him closer, you arch into him, the loose material of his shirt firmly clasped in your hands, deepening the kiss with a quick tug, a silent request for him to let go, but he immediately halts his movements, pulling away in hesitance. 

Oh Neuvillette. Your sweet Neuvillette, who in spite of his stern exterior, is the gentlest of lovers—always so tender with you and steadfast in placing your pleasure before his. You know of his draconic origins, know that he holds back in fear of hurting you, but for all the times he’s pleased you to the fullest extent, you only wish to do the same for him.

Your hand reaches to cup his face and he leans into your familiar touch, steely eyes soft. “It’s okay, I trust you.”

It’s already difficult denying you anything on a normal basis, so how can he, now that you sit, straddled over him, determination colored in your bright eyes, and with nothing but flimsy cloth left between the two of you. His eyes linger at your chest, the scooping neckline of your lace slip doing nothing to hide the smooth crests of your collarbones, begging to be marked. 

Neuvillette sucks in a breath, and attempts to swallow his doubts, before exhaling. He can no longer ignore the tightness in his groin, and to you, it’s clear that the obvious erection poking from beneath his trousers, speaks much louder than the uncertainty storming in his eyes. Perhaps he just needs one more push…

Your fingers come to curve around the sharp lines of his jaw, unwavering as you tilt his head up into your gaze. “Don’t worry about me, I can take it.”

His heart threatens to leap out of his chest in a flash of excitement, gratitude, desire; it’s far from the first time you’ve lain together, but to choose to bear such vulnerability before him, to surrender yourself to a full-fledged dragon… He glides his hands over the round slopes of your shoulders, easily sliding off the straps of your slip as he goes. The silk garment collapses down your torso, piling atop your forgotten dress. 

“If that is truly what you wish…” He presses an openmouthed kiss to the bare skin between your breasts, and the warmth of his breath runs a chill even colder than the night air. His whispers hide a growl, and despite the blush apparent at the tips of his pointed ears, his hold on your waist tightens. One hand slides down to grasp at your rear, and you can feel him smile against your lips, the rattle of a faint chuckle rippling in his throat before your breath hitches as he picks you up in his arms, and carries you off to the bedroom. 

He sets you by your shared bed, tearing off his now wrinkled shirt, while you wriggle out of whatever’s left of your dress, until both sets of clothing are discarded somewhere on the floor, and you’re finally left in only your panties and your stockings.

Immediately, his hands find your waist, roaming up and down over your curves as he smothers you in hungry kisses, herding you along until the backs of your knees hit the edge of your shared bed. This Neuvillette nips at your bottom lip, not asking for, but demanding entrance into your mouth, and you have no choice but to let him in, what with the way he makes you whine as he sneaks his hands down to knead the globe of your ass, before lowering you onto the bed. 

The tingling sensations bloom in your stomach, buzzing with excitement while you ready yourself to surrender completely—pliant to his will, whatever it may be. Arousal swallows you like the sea and he has yet to even really touch you. Impatient, your hand wanders, though not far down enough before you’re caught in his grasp. 

“Patience…” he mutters, pinning your wrist beside your head, broad shoulders caging you in between him and the sheets. His other hand follows the natural lines of your body, tracing along the edges until he stops to fondle one of your breasts. 

It’s impossible to relax your speeding heart at this side of Neuvillette: less reserved in his touches, more candid in his wants. The untreated heat in your body makes sure to touch on every part of you, running like water through your veins, until you’re sure your dripping cunt is pulsing with a heart of its own. Unable to stand the ache any longer, you wriggle beneath him—rolling your hips and squirming until your knee unwittingly brushes against his crotch, eliciting a choked grunt from him, only slightly muffled by the fact that his teeth have dug their way into your exposed flesh. 

He immediately pulls away at the sound of your surprised yelp, eyes darting to and fro across your features in frantic search for even the smallest semblance of discomfort, completely missing the way your entire body had seemed to arch into his touch. His eyes finally settle at the light indentations now displayed upon your once unblemished skin.

“Forgive me,” he begins, “I should have been more careful.” Neuvillette is ever the gentleman, but his voice is clearly strained in a poor attempt at fighting back his instincts—instincts that demand a dragon to mark what is his. 

“There’s nothing to forgive.” A soft smile graces your lips as your hand reaches to cradle his face, curling around his jaw in hushed reassurance. It’s so easy to read the thoughts that plague him so. “It felt good, I promise.”

True to your word, his heightened senses easily pick up on the scent of pure arousal that drifts from between your legs, swirling in the air, and lulling him into a state he’s kept buried for so long, he’s unsure of whether he’d be able to hold himself back even if he wanted to. He admires your bravery for daring to poke at the slumbering beast; bravery he knows stems from a place of passion, but how can he release such inhibitions upon a mere human? So physically… fragile. 

“I meant what I said: I can take it. And I know you won’t hurt me so…” Your fingers clasp around his shoulders, pulling your lover down just far enough to whisper, low and sultry, in his pointed ear.

“Don’t you dare look down on me, o’ hydro dragon sovereign..” 

You lurch forward, manicured nails drawing light lines down his bare back, and he meets you halfway in a long, drawn out kiss. A quiet growl rumbles from deep within his throat, clearly aroused by the way you had drawled out his full title. He nips at your bottom lip, dragging out a single, short gasp before leaving to trail wet kisses down the column of your throat, never stopping until his lips hover over the very spot where he had previously made his mark. 

He doesn’t even have to touch you, just his presence, tangled with your own anticipatory excitement, invites a shudder so deep, you can feel it in your bones. The sharp edge of his fangs scrape along that still-sensitive patch of skin, lightly, as if testing the waters, though this time, he makes sure to take note of the quiver in your pretty little mewls. 

Slowly, he bites down again and a moan slips past your lips, forced out from the very depths of your chest as your fingers fly to tangle in his moonridden tresses. His hot breath seeps past the barrier of your skin, leaving every nerve privy to his effect, and combined with the building pressure, you’re left open for the stream of soft whimpers that leave the perfect ‘o’ of your parted lips. As he sinks his teeth deeper, you squeeze your eyes shut in the midst of all the pleasure.

“Do it again,” you gasp, “felt good… ”

And oh, he has absolutely every intention to, what with the way you’re putty underneath him. However, he must do something about how distracting your hands are when you tug at his hair: hard enough for him to groan with an ache so wanton, it sends tremors echoing down until his trousers feel far, far too tight. 

Neuvillette is neither here nor there when he alternates between kissing and sucking and biting at your tender flesh—anywhere is fair game when you’ve relinquished yourself to him like this. With how attentive his lips are along your body, you hardly even care for the absence of his hand when he reaches around to untie the ribbon in his hair… at least not until it’s too late and you're left bemused by the uncharacteristic display of boldness; after all, it’s all you can do when your wrists are suddenly so tightly bound overhead.

You whine as he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, suckling and swirling his tongue, while he ravishes the other between his fingers. Heat surges through you and the aching desperation congregating in your belly begins to boil; you’ve never felt so sensitive, never been more pervasive to his touch.

Inside. You need him inside of you. But with your hands currently incapacitated, you’ve no other choice except to buck into him, beckoning him with your hips in the hopes of redirecting his attention to where you throb. 

“Inside. Please. I need you. Need you inside.” 

He hums in acknowledgement of your wishes, tugging at the hardened bud with his teeth, successfully wringing another shaky cry from your throat, before he finally pulls at the delicate lace of your panties, and guides them down the length of your legs. You easily kick them off, but in his observation, his piercing gaze catches every thrum of your muscles as they tense underneath the hand that finally trails between your thighs. He drags his lithe fingers between your folds, coating them in your slick, while his thumb rubs your clit in slow, but firm, circles. 

“My apologies for the wait.” Neuvillette kisses you right above your heart, where his acute hearing easily picks up how it palpitates as he dips his fingers into your velvet walls. “Allow me to make amends, my love.”

With the way your cunt gushes so copiously, it’s easy for him to slide all the way down to the last knuckle. He flicks his wrist, pumping fast and hard, scissoring you open before slipping in a third digit, drawing out mewl after pathetic mewl, as you fail to pull yourself together. The bedsheets twist beneath your incessant movements: simultaneously squirming not only from the initial stretch, but also to feel him deeper.

The discomfort is all too familiar, but with just the curl of his fingers, it washes away into unadulterated pleasure, just as it always does. But with your arms tethered, leaving you open and powerless, everything—every touch, every twist, every curl—feels tenfold.

Plus, no one would even believe you if you were to say that the chief justice had such a playful side in the bedroom; his fingers have explored your insides far too many times for him to just miss the little spot that he definitely knows by muscle memory. Whining, you buck your hips, senselessly grinding into his hand, hoping he’d get the message, hoping he’d quell your heat right at the source. 

But something dangerous and wild and primordial shines in the blue-violet glow of his eyes. For all the times you’ve made love together, he’s never seen you like this: so desperate, so needy for him. He pinches a nipple, hard, before locking your jolting hips down; a show of strength to remind you of your place. 

“Please, more.” Your voice rises in congruence with how you struggle against your ribbon-bound wrists. His fingers tease the spot again, this time with more force, and he watches as you keen and clench around him—helpless and at his mercy. 

With a curl, his fingers crook inside your silken walls, pistoning in and out, fast and hard. Arousal continues to build, turning the low squelches into distinct suctions. Every nerve in your body is ignited, seared by the heat as he laps at the overflowing wetness that seeps out of your entrance. A satisfied purr sounds in his throat, and the vibrations dare your hips to buck in spite of the iron grip that holds you down.  

It thrills him to see you steadily fall apart like this, coming so undone before him, dissolving under the weight of your pleasure. It’s just as you had wanted. More. So you can take it, can’t you? You can take more? 

Neuvillette slots your throbbing clit into his mouth, hot tongue relentlessly striking the swollen nub with viscous lashes, while his fingers continue to bully your insides with no intention of slowing down. Sucking harder, fucking faster—you keen at the added stimulation, back arching clean off the bed in blinding pleasure, unable to do anything more than let out jagged sobs as you cum.

Your entire body grows taut as he sees you through the end of this high, before finally drawing out with one last sleight of his hand, so that his fingertips might graze along the velvet top of your walls, bidding farewell with another shudder-inducing wave of euphoria. He exits his soiled digits, clearly pleased as he inspects the amount of slick that coats his elegant hand. 

“You’re absolutely divine.” He hums whilst licking up the side of his wrist, so as not to waste a single drop of your liquid pleasure. It’s intoxicating how exquisite you are, more decadent than even the most pristine of waters. “Perhaps you’d like a taste?”

His offer is rhetorical at best, as he answers for you, already slipping his slender fingers into your open mouth, tangling them with your tongue, until the first bits of drool begin to dribble from your lips. 

He unties your wrists, releasing them from the ribbon’s hold; time and experience have proven that you’ll need something to grasp onto. In a haste, Neuvillette discards what remains of his clothes, and his cock springs forward in all its glory: long and thick, pale tip leaking and thrumming with desire. 

“You’re absolutely sure… ?” he mumbles, voice trailing off, almost embarrassed. He can no longer control the way his hips twitch in excitement, begging to bury his cock into your warmth, but for his gentle heart’s sake, he needs to hear you say it again.

You laugh out a soft ‘yes’ but just for good measure, you rake your nails down his chest, applying just enough pressure to tickle his nerves. “Use me,” you goad. “Come on. Be wicked, my dragon.” 

Neuvillette exhales, chuckling softly at humanity's arrogance. Wicked dragon. If that was what you wanted... “I wonder if you’d still say the same after I’ve finished with you.”

He pins you back down in one fell move, and aligns himself to your entrance, stopping after inserting only the tip. A delicate whimper leaves your lips as you wince at that familiarly sweet stretch, but you and your little cunt are both so eager to please—the continued arousal you churn out, weeping nonstop, and already clenching around just his cockhead. You wriggle into him, trying to fuck yourself deeper on his fat cock as you adjust to his size. 

Reaching up, you pull him into a seemingly reassuring kiss, hands smoothing over the framing pieces of his hair, before curving around his jaw. His lips follow yours, but as you pull away and the short pieces of his hair fall back into place, you notice how his slitted reptilian pupils are dilated almost round. 

“You wish for me not to hold back,” his voice comes in a low growl as he inches further into your cunt, “so please show me how resilient you are.”

It’s all the warning you receive before he slides the rest of his length to the hilt, burying himself in your creamy insides. A shattered sob tears through the room, and your arms fly around his neck in a desperate attempt to anchor yourself, but it only pulls him closer as he leans more of his weight into you, pressing down and reinforcing the heavy plow of his merciless hips. 

Taking him all at once like this burns like wildfire. Pain from the sudden, rough stretch spreads hot and fast, the small embers bursting into a blaze of arousal as pleasure breezes through just as quickly—like air infinitely adding to an already devouring flame. 

“You’re taking me so well,” he praises, turning his head to reward a small kiss to your cheek. Your hole gushes, rushing to quell the heat, and the added lubrication helps you settle into his pace. Still, the dual sensations wash over you like the tide. It pulls you under, drowns you and consumes you with absolute ecstasy.

And just when you think you’ve grown accustomed, Neuvillette lifts your hips, aiming for the spot he knows will drag out the most wonderfully broken cries from your throat. Your nails dig into his back, and he groans at the vice grip as you clamp down around his cock. With each powerful thrust, he buries himself balls deep with a force that has your tits bouncing along to his rhythm, letting the wanton sound of your sobs ring throughout the room, loud enough to almost drown out the lewd noise of skin slapping upon skin. 

The coil in your belly is wound so tight that you’re sure it won’t be long until it collapses into itself. That it won’t be long until you yourself are about to implode, like a star ready to burst. 

“I’m going… going to…” Between the ragged breaths and the overwhelming sensations of ecstasy, you can’t even find it in yourself to think straight.

Neuvillette hums, his liquid smooth voice doing nothing to hide his amusement. “You’d do well not to break so soon.”

He thumbs your clit, drawing tight circles, ignoring the way you convulse beneath him. As your back arches, he drags the flat of his teeth from the edges of your collarbones, down through the valley between your breasts. 

Your entire body quivers, legs jolting by reflex to the intensity of your orgasm, vision blurring white as your lover continues to pound relentlessly through your high. There’s a layer of fuzziness over your mind that leaves you feeling as if you’re floating atop calm waters, but the fingers still thrumming on your abused nub are quick to drag you back into the salaciously dangerous depths of your own pleasure. 

A string of pitched whines follow in the aftermath, but the pretty noises you make has him throbbing even from within your tight hole. You ask him not to hold back, yet here you are before him, so small and pitiful, already writhing from the intensity—and he hasn’t even cum yet. 

Tears threaten to fall from your eyes, your body struggling for a break from the stimulation, but Neuvillette finds it quite adorable, in the way that a predator might toy with its prey. He slows his thrusts, but reaches deeper with every roll of his hips, each languid stroke hitting the exact spot that fills your sight with stars. 

The lascivious sounds of your soaked cunt perfectly swallowing his cock, followed by the slap of his heavy balls on your ass—he’s mesmerized by the way he disappears and reappears, and disappears again inside of you. His heart skips, and he bucks, breaking his rhythm. You undo him like no other, and it spurs him on that he too, seems to have the same effect on you. The way your pussy holds on to him so tightly, the helpless cries of his name amidst your hiccuped whimpering… 

He lets out a small chuckle, breath hot and ragged in your ear as he sucks at the inch of skin below. “Surely you can give me another,” he murmurs, the low grumble of his voice reverberating all the way down, until you can feel the vibrations in the hollows of your collarbone. 

Your eyes flutter, desperately blinking away the wetness that has begun to gather at your lash line. Sweet Neuvillette, your Neuvillette who reveres you more than he ought to and touches you like you’re made of glass. Even through the numbing haze, you know that for him, you’d give anything. 

A long, stuttered moan breaks out from between your lips. As if biding his time, he drags the entirety of his cock along your walls, the large vein that wraps around the length gliding along just right, that your back arches and your knees bend. It’s not that he means to move so tortuously slow, but you squeeze him to such an extent that in spite of his aching need to cum, he cannot help but try and savor the delicious way your walls are gripping for dear life. 

Neuvillette pulls out with the sticky squish of your slick. His throbbing cock, long and flushed, glistens with the sheen of your juices. In the emptiness, you think that perhaps he’s taken pity on you and your now overly sensitive cunt, but that just isn’t fair. Not to him, nor you and your once again looming orgasm.

“You haven’t even cum yet,” you gasp, trying to argue through baited breath. The whole point of this was so that he could feel just as good as he always made sure you did. So why would he—

“I know.” 

You can feel him as he lifts you, flipping you over like you’re nothing more than a doll, and manhandles you onto all fours. Limbs weak, mind frazzled, you’re barely able to hold yourself up, so when he realigns himself at your entrance and slams back through your folds with just as much power as before, you quite literally fall apart. 

“Too much?” The low chuckle in your ear is dangerously taunting, wickedly amused and with no sign of its usual sweetness. You’re able to muster a pitiful whine, but the way your entire body trembles tells him everything he needs to know, as he reangles you mid-thrust.

“I believe you said you could take it.” With a particularly powerful snap of his hips, your arms buckle, and you collapse onto the mattress. The intensity continues to send you jolting forward, but his reaffirmed grip on your waist holds your hips in place.

Nothing deters him as he ruts into you, hitting deep new angles that have your fingers grasping at the sheets while your cunt grasps onto his cock. With every slap of his skin against yours, his tip threatens to kiss your cervix, the aftershocks rippling through you until they’re released as broken sobs, muffled into the bed. 

How unfortunate that such noises, so very sweet to his ears, would be hidden from the world. Tangling his fingers along your scalp, Neuvillette tugs at your hair, lifting your head back so as to hear the pretty melody you sing when your cries ring around the room. Good. Just as the whole of Fontaine should recognize a dragon’s mark on your skin, they too should hear it’s he who pleasures your body so.

Little bits of drool trickle out of your open mouth, your eyes rolling back as he keeps up the brutal pace. Everything feels too overwhelming, yet so tantalizingly good, that your back curves and you’re creaming around him again. 

Electricity shoots through your veins, your lungs desperately racing to catch up with the rapid beat of your heart. The stars painted across your vision drop down to your stomach, exploding with an intensity that rattles you to your core. It’s a flood with no remorse—taking and leaving nothing in return, easily washing away any and all thoughts, until you’re left mewling the name of the only one who could ever give you such a sweet taste of heaven. 

But Neuvillette continues to thrust into you, and as he, too, nears his peak, his tireless strokes finally melt into something a little more forgiving. Just a little. The long drag of his cock slides so smoothly against your slick walls, gentle enough to fool your delirious mind into loosening your grip around him. 

What trickery from the wicked dragon who slams his hips forward with enough force so that your body jostles with every push and pull as he hits all the right spots again and again. Trapped under the weight of his body, all you can do is feel: the heat of the room smothering all your senses, the fervorous thrusts pushing you to your very limit—all you can do is feel and take it as he kisses the spongy head of your cervix, leaving you without a semblance of sanity, blabbering indiscernible nothings that beg to milk him dry.       

“Want more,” you keen, voice as broken as the crystalline tears that roll down your cheeks and melt into the pillows. “Inside. Wan’ it inside.”

Neuvillette laughs, low and airy, strained as his grip tightens, fingertips digging into your hips hard enough that it’d be sure to leave bruises come the morrow. “Is that what you want?”

“Please, please I–” You stop to let out something between a pant and a moan. “Want you to, h-hah, cum inside, wan’ your cum inside me.” Your walls clamp down even harder, as if attempting to trap his cock deep inside you forever, as if you weren’t already tight enough around him. 

White fills his vision, and white fills your womb as Neuvillette cums to the knowledge that you love this. He takes in the sight of you, his precious treasure, now reduced to the likes of a common whore: legs quivering, ass in the air, cunt filled to the brim and leaking from where the two of you merge. All for him. By his doing. 

Such splendor automatically evokes the instinct to claim you in a way far beyond that of human understanding… but you’ve already let him indulge more than enough tonight; he couldn’t possibly ask for more. 

You whimper when you feel him stir again inside you, careful as he brushes past your too-sensitive folds, but even such simple movements hazard to relight the flicker of arousal once again. Every ridge and vein, drawn out so agonizingly slow, sends an inadvertent shiver down your spine until he finally pulls out with a squelch.  

There’s no hope in tearing those sharp, reptilian eyes away from your puffy cunt, abused and messy and leaking with your combined fluids. Neuvillette sucks in a breath, trying to suppress his urges as much as he’s trying to swallow down the desire quickly boiling over in his belly again. Cumming inside you—no, breeding you—was a privilege. For dragons such as he, it’s a ritual reserved only for mates, and given the difference in your physiology, he had never allowed himself to do so—at least not until now, that is. 

In his defense, you had begged for it, and how could he ever deny the very one whom he has entrusted his heart to—especially when you were so beautifully fucked out and unraveled on his cock like that. And perhaps he’s lived among humans long enough to forgive this indulgence as a paradigm of fleeting desire, though nothing of what he feels for you could ever be considered fleeting. 

He parts your folds with two slender fingers, giving himself a better view as his cum now seeps out with suent access. You whine again when you feel him drag his digits down the sides of your pussy lips, catching the overflow before it can fall onto the sheets, and stuffing it right back into your little hole. No point in stopping now, if he’s already committed his sin.

From your half-lidded gaze, you manage to steal a glance at your lover, and judging from the erection that still stands stiff as a rod, he has yet to be satiated. In the attempt to break through the shadow of delirium, you lift your head, shifting your weight back onto your elbows, and forcing your battered body to turn just the slightest bit over. 

“You’re still hard,” you note through staggered breath, “We can go again if you want.”

Neuvillette looks down as if he hasn’t already been feeling the near painful arousal throbbing in his groin. Of course he’s still hard—how could he not be; you’re so complacent before him, offering yourself to him like that. But perhaps he is too soft-hearted, for he only lets out a reassuring hum as he leans forward to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

“You were beyond perfect tonight,” he murmurs. “It… might not be pleasurable for you if I continue anymore. I can finish myself.” 

Lovestruck, you shake your head. “I can take it r’member?” Your large eyes, red-rimmed and dreamy, plead for him to use you—use you to his own content, use you so that he’d feel just as good as he always makes you feel. You nibble at your bottom lip, bashful. “You can even use your other form if you'd like...” 

Your words catch him off guard, and he immediately stills in a half-hearted attempt to collect himself as another wave of pure, unadulterated desire pulses through his entire being. Neuvillette swallows hard before letting out a slow, shaky breath. His cock twitches and his muscles tense beneath the creamy skin that now seems to gleam with a soft shine, revealing scattered patches of effervescent cerulean scales. You affect him more than you could possibly know, revitalizing such carnal urges that ignore his will and allow his body to react so enthusiastically.

“You’re sure…?” His normally polished tone is husked in a defiant strain. Despite the way his pupils are blown wide and wild with lust, conflict still swims in the shallows of his expression, made clear by the way his voice rasps as he desperately claws to retain even a semblance of his composure. 

The tips of your fingers trace the blue streaks that protrude from the crown of his silver head, now hardened into twin ribbons of ivory; his horns, delicate but strong, glow a luminescent azure—so warm and inviting in its radiance… You grasp them tight, pulling him down with you, as you fall back into the bed, his lips pressed against yours. Of course you’re sure. He’d never hurt you, your Neuvillette would never ever hurt you.

“Devious…” he whispers between kisses, your tongue and teeth clashing in a waltz of their own, as his body drapes over yours. 

It’s not the first time you’ve seen him in this form, crossed somewhere between a human and a dragon, as beautiful as he is powerful. But it’s certainly the first time you’ve ever attempted to take him like this. He’s bigger in this form—you can already feel it as he grinds up between your legs. Longer. Thicker. Ribbed and embossed with the same pearlescent blue scales. Beautifully intimidating, just like the dragon sovereign himself. 

And as you continue to marvel, he lets his cock rest across your lower stomach, sizing you up. His fervor shines through in the way he’s already leaking a mess of sticky precum atop the smooth skin of your belly. A satisfied hum vibrates in his throat, clearly enthused. 

“This is how deep I’ll be,” he muses, almost apologetic of the incoming stretch you’d have to endure. “I’m beginning to wonder if I can even fit inside you.” 

Would it be wicked of him to admit, even to himself, that he enjoys the way you wriggle and cry just taking him in his human form? And yet… he’s forced to steady his breathing in a poor attempt at grounding himself—a task near impossible as you roll your hips up, ardently shaking your head no, outright ignoring the last out he offers.

“I will… make it fit.” They’re the last words you manage to wrangle out before being overtaken by the need to be full and filled. There’s no reason you should be so terribly, terribly hollow, when he’s right there. Neuvillette chokes back a laugh; your unyielding determination sends blood rushing to his erection, desperate to feel your velvet walls crowd around him again.

Finally relenting, he teases your entrance—running his cock up and down your slit, spreading your wetness, before slapping your clit with the tip—reminding you just how sensitive you still are. Gasping, you jerk away from the stimulation that once again taunts your nerves. Your hole, however, clenches around nothing, eager to please. 

But perhaps you’ve greatly underestimated just how big he is, because he barely makes it past the threshold of your folds, before the pleasure pain of the stretch begins to take over. That, and the overstimulation from your previous orgasms, already have you instinctively trying to snap your legs shut, but the firm hold on your thighs forbid you from doing so.

“Ha-ah N-neuvi—” A twisted sense of pride swells in his chest at the way you can hardly speak as your breath hitches and your lungs desperately search for air. “’s too big,” you sob.

He gives you a momentary reprieve to adjust, while his hand snakes down to run sloppy circles over your clit.

“More?” he whispers. 

It takes you a minute to respond, but he waits until finally your voice shakes with the violence of each hiccupped sob. “More.. please…”

A baritone hum sounds in his throat as he pulls forward, pressing wet kisses to your jaw in a quiet reassurance, effectively sliding a couple inches deeper, as he does so. “You can take it, my love. You’re so pretty like this.”

Your arms wrap around his neck, your hold eliciting a long, low groan from the dragon. Wherever you squirm, he follows, pressing more of his weight onto you, burying more of his cock into you. Each ridged inch that slides past your folds, seems to push the thoughts right out of your head, letting them dissipate into thin air until you’re left mindlessly moaning sweet praises to his name. 

Desperate to accommodate the unfamiliar enormity of his dragon cock, your walls ripple and tense around him, back arching into him, wanting to feel ever closer to the love of your life, determined to push your cunt to its limit for him. For your Neuvillette. 

Neuvillette. Neuvillette. Neuvillete. He’s all you can think about; him and his monster cock that seems to split you so deliciously open. It’s wave after wave of heat that sets your insides ablaze, soothed by the waters of arousal that have you begging for more, and restarting the cycle until he finally bottoms out, and you feel as if you’ve been electrified. You squeeze your eyes shut, but with the way his bulbous tip prods at your cervix, your mind goes blank, and the tears fall regardless. 

“There…” you pant, eyes glassy from the euphoria of feeling so incredibly full. “’s all in.”

“Yes,” he praises, softly. “Look at you, so nice and tight for me.” 

He wipes the salt from your cheeks, distracting you with a delicate kiss. His fangs are more prominent in this form; you can feel them as he grins against your lips, whilst whispering breathy nothings that tell of how good you are for him, how perfect, how he should be so lucky to have you like this, to have you as his. 

When your body eases enough, he pulls away, though the subtle shift of his cock still drags a pitched whine out from your lips. If he’s to be honest, he cannot tear his gaze from where the two of you are joined. It’s mesmerizing, hypnotic, to see how he splits you open, to feel how you mold into the shape of him, to imagine just how much your little cunt had to stretch so that he might rest comfortably inside.

Though, comfortable might be an overstatement due to the way your muscles tense and release so tightly around him, clamoring for more of his attention.  Eyes darkening with lust, Neuvillette smooths a hand over your abdomen, cerulean scales cold upon your skin.

“Can you feel me right…” He draws a clawed finger delicately across the skin of your belly, where his cock rests parallel underneath. “Here…”

He leaves more than just a faint line of red where his talon rakes. Yes, you want to say. You can feel the faint prickle of his claw on your skin, you can feel how the sharpness sends a shiver ringing through your body, and of course you can feel how he’s sheathed his dragon cock right into the very depths of your cunt, deeper than anyone’s ever been, deeper than he’s ever been… But the only sounds that spill through your lips are another stream of broken sobs, fever touched by how close you are to cumming just from being filled.

“Go on, darling. Cum for me.” He can feel you pulsing around him, clenching and unclenching in search of sweet release, yet he makes no additional moves to help you, leaving you to your own devices.

At this point, you can no longer tell if you’re making things better or worse, as every little movement knocks you into reaction—like dominoes toppling over until every piece of you has been unraveled. You writhe atop the soiled sheets for any sort of friction, but it’s too much when his tip knocks against the entrance to your womb. So you shift away, letting the ridges on his shaft graze against your syruped walls, inciting another wave of need. The scales continue to tip between ‘too much’ and ‘more’, until you finally work yourself into a delirious orgasm, on nothing but his cock inside you and your own incessant squirming. 

As you continue to ride out your high, Neuvillete finally begins to move, tearing himself away from your fluttering vice grip with a tremulous moan, because fuck you’re still so tight around him, still so warm and wet even after cumming for what? The fourth time tonight? Pressure lands heavy over your frame as he begins to rock into you, folding you in half as he does. 

He fucks you slow and even, stretching you out even more with every new stroke. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream as this new position affords him the privilege to reach impossibly deeper. Despite his shallow thrusts, each drag of his cock still blooms an ache from all the hidden spots that he has no choice but to touch, though it’s quick to pass, as pleasure continues to coil in your belly. 

It’s so much all at once. You can’t take it, it’s too much. But the soul-shattering euphoria of being so utterly full, is unparalleled. You want more, you need more.   

“My pearl,” he whispers, though his voice is gruff, “my heart… I want to hear you.” 

And so you oblige him, wailing something broken and pitched and strangled, at the sudden snap of his hips, at the way he bumps into your cervix and seems to rattle your organs about. 

“F-fuck,” you cry, without thinking. Not that you can anyway, when the push-pull tide of his thrusts raises you to new heights of delirium. “H-ah god, fuck Neu–”

Another sharp, jutting thrust cuts you off as the dragon above you snarls, clearly agitated by your crass choice of words. “There are no gods to help you here.” Not in Fontaine where he rules, and certainly not here in his home.

There’s a feral wildness that shines in his bright vishap eyes, and his possessive streak flares—dragons have no natural inclination to share after all. It’s clear in the way his pace changes: faster, harsher, more ragged—a ferocity befitting of an elemental dragon ruler. But titles aside, he’s still your Neuvillette, and every move he makes is still laced with a tenderness, so as not to break you more than he already has. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” he commands, dragging his tongue up the length of your throat.

“Yours. ‘m yours, Neuvillette.”

In and out, in and out. His long strokes guide the ridges of his cock back and forth through your tender muscles, leaving you to mumble mindless nonsense as you convulse and keen beneath him. Whatever pain you had felt earlier has long chipped away into undeniable pleasure as you near the precipice of yet another orgasm. Eyes glazed over in all consuming ecstasy, all you know to do is to chase your lust, and so your hips grind back, rolling together like waves in a storm. 

Amidst the flagrant wet sounds of your rabid fucking, you cum again, lashes fluttering as your eyes roll, muscles tight as they tremble from such rapture—so lovely, so beautiful. Your siren call of pretty cries spill from your lips, intermingled with weak babbles of his name. You’re so breathtaking like this in your post-climax haze: fucked out and cloudy-eyed, panting into the cool air as his slowed thrusts still rack up an aftershock of shudders.

Neuvillette bows his head, once again trailing wet kisses across your collarbones, before pausing to hover his lips right over the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his warm breath a familiar spot of comfort in this maddening pleasure. Perhaps it’s some sort of sixth sense unique to only the most attuned of lovers, ones whose souls seem to harmonize in perfect resonance, but there’s hesitance in the way he suckles at the spot, fangs ghosting over your tender skin.

“S’okay… you can do it.” Your soft, dreamy sighs of approval are accompanied by the languid tilt of your neck, jeopardizing more of your delicate skin to the dangers of his teeth. “You can mark me… w’nna be your mate…”

Choking back a moan, Neuvillette pistons thrice more into your cunt—pulling out until just his tip remains, and then plunging back into your gooey insides, sending you into another round of dizzying convulsions. His own orgasm follows, seeing stars as he places an amorous bite to the crook of your neck using only the flat of his teeth. 

With how deep he’s buried, ribbons of his cum shoot right into your womb, spilling out into every cavity, and painting your interior white. Warmth blossoms from the inside out. Your heart is full, mumbling happy nothings of ‘mates’ in between sniffles, while a creamy ring forms around the base of his cock, thick liquid oozing from where he ends and you begin. His own chest rises and falls in jagged patterns, but his only want is to seek your lips, to drink in your mewls, and exchange sweet kisses, so that your soul and his, may meld together as they dance in the shape of your breaths intertwined.

He strokes your hair, planting easy kisses all around as he unplugs himself, letting loose the flood of cum that seeps out of your hole, but you whine at the loss, wanting nothing more than to be ever close to your newly consummated mate. Neuvillette only nuzzles into your neck, deep purrs of content reverberating from his chest as he lazily rubs his scent all over you. Meanwhile, a quick swish of his sapphire tail up the sticky underside of your thigh, teases another pulse from your cunt, and by reflex, you push out another dollop of white. 

A small tap tap to his shoulder distracts him from his scenting, and he looks up with a tilt to his head and a small furrow to his brow, his normally sharp eyes full of earnest concern, relaxing only once he finishes reading through the bleary, dulcet tones of adoration that glow in your half-lidded eyes. You poorly suppress your little giggles—although he often disagrees, your lover really can be quite adorable. 

Fontaine’s Iudex Neuvillette is elegant, poised, and meticulously polished… but here in the quiet night hours, in the privacy of your hearth, your Neuvillette is unruly-haired and damp-skinned from satiating the beastly desires of his still tender heart. You reach out a tired arm, first brushing back the pieces of hair that cling to his skin, then wrapping your palm around to cup his face. 

“Was I a good mate?” Your hand slips down from his cheek to play with the tips of his silvery hair. “W’nna be the best for you.”

“You already are the best for me.” His hand, no longer clawed nor scaled, brings yours back up for a kiss to your knuckles. “The only one for me.” 

He rolls off of you, sweeping you into his embrace, as he carries you off to the bathroom. Your head rests heavily against his chest, but your happy hums and quiet murmurs of ‘good,’ tell him that you have not drifted off into slumber just yet.  

“You truly are a wonder,” he breathes, dipping his head to place a soft kiss to your forehead. “And it would be my honor to have you as my mate… but not tonight.”

His instincts had urged him to do it, to permanently claim you as his, and mark you as a dragon would, but his heart vehemently disagrees. The most sacred bond known to his kind is an ultimatum in your relationship, and it is one he refuses to be the sole architect of, so perhaps the two of you can revisit this conversation again once you’re more clear-headed; his answer would remain the same anyways.

edit 10/2024: please Do Not Follow this blog after reading this fic. this is NOT!!!!!! a writing blog anymore, thanks.

notes2: writing this took years off my life, but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless ! as always, thank u sm for reading, and reblogs + feedback are very much appreciated ♡

notes3: here is a little visual of how i imagine the dress at the beginning to look like, but of course you can always imagine it however you like since i’ve purposely left it rather vague : )

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

[anantaru]

cw. best friends need to fuck each other sometimes <3 fem! reader

what's worse?

the vivid realization of fucking your best friend aventurine or that it actually feels fucking nice when you ride him as it all happened so quickly, with want, need and arousal— without your mind working.

it started somewhat innocent, the both of you curious on what's behind those clothes of yours when you begin to masturbate in front of each other— your fingers rubbing over your puffy clit as aventurine watches with big doe eyes, stroking his cock.

high off desperation, he urges you to put a finger into your hole, which you hoped he'd be the one to tell you— to make you do it so it's him who looks even more desperate than you did.

he makes a great show of showing you his thickened cock, right and solid and good wiping his pre over his shaft before bucking into his hand, again again and again fucking into his tight grip imagining it's your tight pussy instead.

the one he's watching getting stuffed by a mere finger. he could've made you cum already, he's certain of it.

aventurine begins to grunt each time you whine when you pump a finger in— and you can see it, how much in pain he was, keeping his teeth dug into his bottom lip to concentrate on making himself cum with his hand.

but it's fast, almost a little bold when he asks you, when both of you think about it;

"you wanna— sit on it, just a bit?" he gasps when you whine back to him, confused and lidded eyes, thrusting your finger in and out of your hole, "only a bit, okay?" you utter back nervously, "five s-seconds, five, not more," lips wet with saliva bestowing pure lust as aventurine was trying to hold it in, his climax and breath, caught in a big gulp.

you hop on top of him, your folds smacking against his shaft as he desperately lines himself up— drawing you still, uttering out another twine of five seconds, only five, fucking five seconds, it's gonna be worth it, you'll see.

"fuck—," he throws his head back, palms branding your ass, "i'm inside of you, fucking inside, oh fuck," as the new feeling of a cock, your best friends cock, sliding into your walls felt so fucking satisfying, so damn filthy and wrong, but good and well at the same time.

it's wrong, it's not, but it is. no it's not.

something so thick and pleasuring can never be wrong.

you're so tight, so fucking tight," he presses into you, your hole filled and thighs shaking, your hips still pushing down to keep more of him in before you let out a squeal at the burning split of his shaft gaping your cunt apart— the tight cunt aventurine always wanted to feel.

the gambler doesn't want mindless fucking, or mundane repetitive one night stands that are bringing him more eye roll than actual pleasure.

actual satisfaction? that's what he wants and he's feeling it right now while stuffing his best friend's sloppy cunt—he desires you strongly, he craved an almost damaging, unspeakable pleasure, his hips jerking reflexively as you're high off the sensation of him.

you choke out your moans, both humping each other filthily, his unforgiving pace bringing you to tears, sweat and saliva drenching you, marking you up, until you're falling apart on your best friends fucking cock.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[slytherinslut0]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 28th. theodore nott. lorenzo berkshire — humiliation / degradation

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.

summary: never let enzo berkshire find out about one of your kinks. unless….

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, halloween ghostface costumes, threesome, fwb!theo, bestfriend!enzo, reader is involved in a bet unbeknownst to her, mask kink, humiliation on high, degradation, fingering, denied orgasm, oral m!rec, PIV, dirty talk, manipulation.

"Black cat mask?"

You shake your head, barely sparing the thing a glance.

"Mm, no. Too unoriginal."

"Right," Enzo sucks his teeth, tossing the mask back into the bin you're both half-heartedly rifling through. "Orange cat, then? That's far more fitting for you anyways."

"Enzo—no cats, please," you mutter, running a hand through your hair, staring down at the disheveled heap of plastic. None of it catches your eye, none of it sparks anything. "It's Halloween. I want something...scarier."

"Of course. Only day of the year you get to pretend you're as terrifying as me." He croons—half-laughing through the words. The tease itches in your mind, and you're halfway to some retort when he's already holding up another mask. "How about this one?"

You glance up, ready to dismiss whatever nonsense he's holding this time, but the sight of it stills the air in your lungs. A Ghostface mask. Stark white, hollow eyes staring back at you—it's grimace cast in a faded glow under tired shop lights. It's nothing—just a mask, just a piece of cheap plastic in Enzo’s hand—but your heart skips, stumbles, clutches at your ribs, and you can't look away.

And there's no goddamn reason for it, no logic—but you're already seeing it, aren't you? Your current fwb—Theo, standing over you; his face hidden, mask in place of those half-lidded eyes that you’ve learned to read so well. And you know—you know the thought is fucking absurd—yet, it knots something in your stomach, spreading heat like a fuse just lit.

"You alright there?" Enzo's teasing pulls you out of your thoughts, and you realize he'd been staring at you that entire time. "You're looking a little...hot."

Hot. Right. Of course he'd notice—of course your best friend would notice the way you went still, frozen in place as if someone struck you with Glacius. You're no good at lying to him, not even on a good day—and right now, your mind is in shambles, already too far gone into the fantasy and—

No. No more of this.

You tear away, fumbling for the edge of a cloak that suddenly seems like the most fascinating thing you've ever seen, your fingers tracing the fabric as if it can save you.

"It's...fine—it's nice," you blurt out, too quickly, too forced, the words tumbling over themselves. "Just—no, not really my thing."

But Enzo knows better. He can spot your lies from miles away. You hear him shift, the quiet rustle of the mask in his hands—and then, he's pulling it over his face, tilting his head just to spite you.

You don't have to look to know he's smirking behind it.

"Bullshit." He steps closer, casually closing the distance, but you know it's deliberate. "You're into this, aren't you?"

The warmth on your face feels like fire now, prickling heat across your skin. He shifts closer again, and for a moment you consider jinxing him—mind scattering into dark, unbidden places—filthy, wild things, flashing behind your eyes, too real. Enzo tilts his head the other way now, letting the mask catch the light, letting it grin.

"Should I get it?" He asks, as innocent as a serial killer. "For Nott, of course."

"No."

It scrapes out of your throat, barely audible, far too small to hold truth. You’re sure he can read you right now—all your depraved thoughts in the rasp of your voice, painfully transparent.

There’s a huff, a snort of sorts. "Are you sure? I think he'd love it."

Despite his insufferableness, he’s probably right. Theo has never shied away from indulging your kinks before. That’s what no strings is about. Maybe he would love it, you know you certainly would—gods how you’d love it—even if you’d rather die before admitting it.

The cloak—you focus on the deep purple velvet, the dark lace edging. "I'm sure. Put it back."

"You don't sound so sure." Gods, he's such an asshole—point only proved further as he takes another step closer. "Does this...does this turn you on?"

"Enzo—For Godric's sake, stop." The humiliation is suffocating. This is just a glimpse at your future should you ever decide to disclose this information to him. Relentless and bloody insufferable. "Let's just—pick something and go. Please?"

A pause, then, and you don't dare look up. The mask slips from his face with another soft, satisfied hum—you don't need to see him to feel the damage done. He knows.

"Sure, angel," he says, trailing as he turns. "Whatever you want."

————

"Matt—have you seen Theo?"

"Uh—not since earlier." Mattheo replies without even looking up, his focus on pouring another dangerous looking drink rather than on you. "He's probably just out for a smoke."

Yeah. Right. Forsure—because his smoke breaks last all bloody day. Doubt twists your stomach, but you nod anyway, grabbing your own drink—something bubbling, far too bright a green to be safe, but it burns down easy all the same. The room spins in a foggy haze, lights bleeding together over costumes, wizard and Muggle and something in between—and you struggle to tell who's who.

Theo had refused to tell you what he was dressing up as—claimed he wanted it to be a surprise. Now, that surprise is nowhere to be found.

"What are you supposed to be?" You raise a brow at Mattheo's striped inmate costume. “Your future?"

Riddle's eye flash as he pretends to be offended for about two seconds until his gaze drops to your own costume and his tongue darts over his lips, taking it in. Beer-maid, tight bodice, shorter than preferred. It's not what you were going for, not in the slightest, but it's all Pansy had in her closet to save you after you and Enzo failed to find anything interesting at the shop the other day.

"Maybe. But you definitely aren't dressed as yours." His attention shifts back to the crowd, a failed attempt at hiding his grin. "Way too much fabric."

You scoff, but that's just how Mattheo is—always a sly comment, always pushing. You roll your eyes and swat at him, but he sticks his tongue out at you and steps back, slipping off into the crowd with a final goodbye wink—and just as you lose track of him, Draco saddles up next to you, prattling on about something you don't care to listen to.

Great, that’s two annoying Slytherins accounted for. Where the fuck is Theo?

Five seconds into pretending to be interested in whatever Malfoy is babbling on about, you give up, turning back to the drink table and skimming over the options when someone new brushes up behind you—

"Enzo told me," the words barely register before you feel it—a hand settling low at your hip. "About your kink."

With lightening speed you twist your neck, glancing over your shoulder—only to fucking gasp at what you find there. That mask. The mask. The Ghostface one from the shop; the one Enzo hasn't let you forget, hasn't stopped teasing you about—you blink, your heart barrelling out of the room, fingers tightening around your cup until it hurts—

The mask tilts, just slightly. "Looks like he was right."

"Theo—"

"Go." His voice is muffled, but sweet Merlin—the sound of it makes your knees threaten to buckle right then and there. His hand slips lower, teasing against the ruffles of your dress. "Run, Bella. Let's play."

Your body locks up, muscles tense and poised on the edge of something feral. You can't look away. Can't think. Can't breathe. His fingers slip lower, lower, until you feel it—cold leather against the heat of your skin and your throat tightens, words dying dead on your tongue.

Run.

A slight lean, and the mask brushes your neck. "Now."

He steps back, a slow retreat, but it feels like he's tugging you with him. You spin to face him, smirking, your voice barely above a whisper—

"And when you catch me?"

"Find out." His head tilts toward the door. It's your cue.

Your feet move before your mind even catches up, slipping through the rowdy crowd, darting through the half-drunk revelers in their costumes—everything blurring into an afterthought as you push past the cobwebs, pumpkins, fake spiders, all the other Halloween decor filling the fogged ballroom. Your fingertips buzz from the adrenaline—pulse echoing in your ears as you dart down one hall after another, not quite sure where you're going, but knowing you need to keep moving.

Theo told you to run—so you run.

You sprint through the castle, the corridors empty save for your hurried footsteps and the scattered Halloween decorations lunging at you from the shadows. You round a corner, making for the dungeons. It's as good a place as any, right? Dark, quiet, somewhere to hide.

Few more minutes and you make it, lungs burning as you stumble into the dreary main hall. You realize the detention room is empty—and it's perfect. You take two steps inside, already thinking you'll be able to catch your breath when—

You slam headlong into something solid.

Head swirling, your vision barely refocuses before you feel a grip on your wrists, pulling you forward with enough force to make you gasp. Everything happens so fast you don't have enough time to process what's occurring before you're forced to focus on the thing you're seeing—ghostface. Staring down at you with those empty, gaping eyes. Unreadable.

It's then that you realize you're caught.

Something shifts behind the mask, an almost imperceptible movement of his head. You'd almost think you imagined it but given that there's nothing else to look at you know it's impossible. The silence is ballooning and you wonder if this is part of the game, if Theo is just savouring the moment, relishing in your reaction. The way you're trembling, your breath stuttering, the way you've gone still—waiting.

You swallow, throat drier than the Sahara, but something about this has you emboldened, the fact he's playing into your fantasy like this—so you decide to tease him, breaking the silence with a soft, breathless laugh as you pull one of your hands free from his grip.

He wanted to play. It's your turn to act the part.

"Looks like you caught me...Mr. Ghostface..." you purr—the silence sticks heavy, making the space between you feel thick, electric. All you can feel are his eyes devouring you. "And now...now that you've caught me...what are you gonna' do with me...hm?"

Gods—the thrill of this is so real, one your certain is more addictive than any drug. An adrenaline rush—not knowing what he's thinking, what he's about to do. Not being able to read him like you normally could. It makes your thighs quake—and there’s half a second where you wonder how much Enzo would pay to see this, how much he’d fucking taunt you for it.

But just as quickly as it came, you shake that thought—focused on Theo, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and sink to your knees, fingertips teasing from his chest to his abdomen, tilting your head to look up at him through your lashes.

"...please don't punish me." You giggle—and the debauched absurdity of it all makes you nearly choke. "I'll be so good—I'll do anything, Theo—"

You feel him huff, tense, and when your fingers graze the front of his pants—just barely touching his crotch— his hand snaps down like a vice, gripping your wrist, stopping you dead in your tracks.

And then, you hear it. "Salazar sakes—shit—"

Your heart plummets. That voice—it's like being thrown into ice-cold water. No, that's not—it can't be—

"Enzo?"

Your voice cracks as you all but screech, your head whipping up so fast you feel dizzy. No, no, no—

Enzo, who you previously thought was Theo, pulls the mask off and all but verbally confirms it. Your nightmare born to life. Spooling to fruition right in front of you. He smiles, lips curled into something thoroughly entertained, and gods, how his eyes glint with pure assholery—you could fucking kill him.

"Enzo—" you stammer, horror flushing through you, burning through the mortification lodged in your throat. "Gods—what the fuck—"

"Surprise," he breathes, like this is the most casual thing in the world to him.

You scramble back, knees scraping against cold stone—mind spiralling in every direction at once—shame collides with shock and it all burns under your skin, the kind of heat that never settles. You know Theo's voice. You could never mistake it. You know for a fact that was him back at the party— but this, this makes no sense.

"What...what the hell-" your voice stumbles like you're trying to outrun the words. "Why would you—what were you—"

"Relax," he is all too fucking calm. "It was a prank."

"A prank?" You're still on the floor, and for some reason that makes everything worse. "You call that a prank? A—a funny little joke?"

"That's usually the definition—"

"No." You hiss between clenched teeth, anger strangling any hope for composure. "What were you doing in here? This— this isn't—you were trying to-"

"Trying to what?" He sounds so goddamn innocent but you know better. He's toying with you, making sure you know it. He's been your best friend since you were kids but you never said it was by choice. He steps closer. "I was trying to what, angel?"

Your blood boils, the heat spreading fast—pooling low in your core against all specks of your sanity. He's relishing this, drinking in your mortification like it's fine wine—and for some reason, it makes you weak.

"You—" words die with another one of his steps, the toes of his shoes brushing against your skin as he crouches down in front of you, elbows resting casually on his knees. You sit back, ass meeting cold stone. "Enzo—"

"Yeah?" He cocks an eyebrow. "You just gonna' parrot my name all night? Maybe you're too embarrassed to speak?"

The constant mocking feels like ice and you want to slap that smug look right off his face but instead your fucking thighs tense. You have nothing to say—can only stare at him, lungs seizing further as you notice the smirk fading from his lips, something darker replacing it—

"You didn't even know who was under that mask, and you were ready to suck me off," he's whispering, but he may as well be screaming. "You'd do anything for anyone with a mask, huh? I wish I knew about this kink of yours sooner."

He leans in closer, his knees pushing yours apart—you and Enzo had never been strangers to toying the line of friendship one too many times while drunk, but this—

You blink. Staring at him. "You...you're enjoying this way too much."

"Guilty as charged." His smile spreads wider, cockier, his eyes dipping to your lips, then lower. You shiver involuntarily. "I know I should have stopped you sooner, but seeing you on your knees...in front of me...I just..."

He shakes his head before he slowly stands back up—and his eyes flicker to your chest, lingering on your fucking tits and not even trying to be subtle about it.

Then, there’s a sound—the sound of the door creaking open.

You barely hear it, the faint shuffle of footsteps, but it's enough to pull the grin from Enzo's face as he looks up. You're not sure your heart can handle anymore of this—plummeting to the stone beneath you as Theo steps into the room, dressed just like Enzo—black robes, black gloves, Ghostface mask.

"Nott." Enzo's voice is too casual, too easy. "Great timing, mate."

Theo’s silent as he takes in the scene. You—still on the floor, dress hitched up, legs spread. Enzo standing over you, smug, unbothered. Theo's presence fills the room as he shuts the door behind him and locks it, stoking your humiliation into something even hotter, something impossible to escape.

Theo's voice is flat, his tone too even. "Looks like you got caught."

Wait—

"You—" your gaze jumps between them, a wild panic bubbling up inside you. You're so fucking confused. "What is this? You two—"

"Like I said, a prank." Enzo says as he steps toward Theo, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "A bet, really.”

Theo doesn't respond. He doesn't move. He doesn't look away from you.

"A bet?" You choke out, trying to piece everything together. "What bet?"

"Well, you see, angel," Enzo pushes away from Theo and slumps down into a chair just off to the side of you. You feel the dread rolling in like a storm. "I bet big Theo here you'd get so weak in the knees over the mask, you wouldn't even notice the switch. As usual, I was right."

Andddd, there’s the dread. Yup. As expected whenever Enzo is fucking involved in anything.

"Oh, wow—" you'd laugh if you weren't this utterly mortified by the entire situation. "You guys are—gods. You’re going after a whole new high score in the prick olympics, aren't you—"

"Oh, I don't know if you believe that, topolina...I think you're just being shy." Theo cuts through your rambling and you flinch at the sound of his voice. "It's clear this is a fantasy of yours."

Your head tilts up, eyes widening as they meet the empty, hollow eyes of the mask drawing closer.

"I bet you're just embarrassed," Theo's pressing—he's fucking pressing and you don’t think you’ve breathed since he walked in. "Embarrassed that you got on your knees for your best friend...or maybe you're afraid I'd be mad." He pauses, and his gaze sweeps down over you. "Which, to that I'd have to say, I'm far from."

You swallow hard, your mouth dry. "You're...you're not mad?"

Perhaps you were afraid of that—even if you and Theo are unofficial in every aspect.

His answer is instant. "No."

He crouches in front of you, gloved fingers finding your chin, tipping your head up so he can look at you— really look at you.

"In fact...I think you should let him watch..." his thumb ghosts over your lower lip, so soft, so slow—without thinking, your tongue flicks out, barely grazing the leather covered tip, and you hear the soft exhale he releases in response. "After all, this was his idea. He deserves some fun too, don't you think?"

Heat floods your cunt, your stomach tightening at the suggestion. You glance at Enzo, sitting back now with his mask on—legs spread wide, leather hands clasped, calm—you wanted to kill him five minutes ago, but now—

Oh gods—you're really losing it.

"Yeah," you whisper, barely managing the word. "He probably does."

Theo's hand slides down to your thigh, leather fingers curling into the soft skin, pulling your legs open further.

"Mhm." He mutters. "You like being watched, don't you?"

Your breath catches, your pulse thundering in your ears as you nod, your eyes glued to Enzo. "Yes..."

"Say it." His fingers trail higher, teasing the soft skin beneath your dress, fingertips grazing closer—too close—just below the lace hem of your panties.

Salazar save you.

You bite your lip, and the air between you feels like it's thickening, growing too dense to breathe in. That fucking mask. You've fantasized over it. And now, there's two of them. Two sets of eyes—faceless, emotionless, and watching you. It's like something out of your fucking dreams.

"I—I like being watched," you manage to whisper, voice breaking between building lust.

"Louder," Theo growls this time like he's pulling it from somewhere deep in his chest—it sends liquid heat spilling through you. "Louder, topolina. He can't hear you if you're whispering."

Your heart stutters in your chest, and Enzo—gods, Enzo is still watching—stays silent, the mask concealing whatever reaction he might have, but his posture speaks volumes. Stillness, dark fabric of his trousers tight across his thighs, a coiled tension that radiates off him, permeates the space between you.

"I—fuck—" a breathless moan cracks through your words as Theo's leather-clad fingers slip under your panties, grazing your slick slit. "—love it. I love being watched."

Theo hums, the sound vibrating low in his throat, and rewards you by pushing two fingers into your dripping heat. So slow, the pace of his strokes torturous—slick sounds of leather working you open filling the room, mingling with your quiet, shuddering breaths. His thumb brushes your clit, teasing over it until you moan—hard and shameless—

"So loud," Theo mocks, your spine arching into him as his fingers curl inside you. "Eager, filthy little thing. You love being on display, don't you?"

A whimper catches in your throat, your gaze still locked on Enzo, watching him watch you.

You're shaking. You're close. Too close.

Your voice cracks again, nothing more than a whisper caught in a moan. "Theo...fuck—"

"You're so wet, bellissima," Theo breathes behind the mask. You're burning, every nerve sizzling. "You want to cum, don't you?"

You can't speak. Words don't exist anymore, only the pressure—only the way Theo's fingers curl inside you, the way your thighs tremble and ache from holding yourself open, from being watched, from being this goddamn humiliated.

"Y-yes," you choke out, desperate. "Yes, please, I—"

"Ask him." Theo's cuts you off. "Ask Enzo to let you cum."

The room spins. The air thickens into something cloying.

Ask him. Ask Enzo—

You swallow hard, your eyes darting between the two masks. Enzo is silent, still motionless, but he tilts his head slightly, the only indication that he's heard. That he's waiting.

"Please, Enzo—" the humiliation is sickening but you force past it. It’s a broken prayer, vulnerability in verbal form. "Please...let me cum—please—"

Time stretches. It feels like hours, an eternity where nothing exists but the weight of their hidden eyes on you, the way Enzo's fingers twitch, curl over the thick ridge at his crotch, leather knuckles tensing as if he's restraining himself from something primal. You're being devoured whole by this moment—by the unbearable tension, by Theo's fingers inside you, relentless in their assault, and gods—you're going to die if they don't let you—

"Yeah," Enzo finally murmurs, breaking the silence. Theo's gaze flickers to him, waiting. "Yeah, you can cum, angel…”

But as he says it, he shakes his head, and Theo—the absolute bastard—pulls his fingers out without a word.

"…just not yet." Enzo finishes.

The sound that leaves your throat isn't even human, some guttural, helpless whine torn straight from your throbbing, empty cunt. Theo shushes you.

"You'll get to cum, Bella," he coos, standing up slowly. "It'll be soon."

They're toying with you, playing you like a goddamn puppet on strings and it's infuriating in its deliciousness. You've known these men for years, yet it's almost laughable—the way they feel so foreign, so terrifyingly new.

"Oh, Enzo," you sigh, feeling your arousal cool, your body suddenly aware of the icy stone beneath you, of the wet heat slicking down your thighs. "I'm going to kill you tomorrow."

Enzo snorts. "You're welcome to try."

Theo exhales a half-chuckle, helping you off the floor and onto a desk, his hands firm on your thighs as he spreads you open like he's done a hundred times within the last few months.

A moment passes before he moves to loosen his belt and you realize just how close Enzo is now—his chair right beside the desk, his hand palming the bulge in his pants, shameless in his observation. The sight makes you fucking dizzy with filth. Surely, you've lost your mind. This is madness. Every line between friendship and lust—between restraint and indulgence—has blurred and bled into something you can't define, and the thrill of it is intoxicating.

"This is insane," you hiss, breathless, feeling the way Theo's gloves scrape over your skin, two thick digits dragging in your slick. "You're both fucking insane."

"Too much talking," Theo mutters, so infuriatingly calm, even as he drags the head of his dick over your folds, teasing your clit. "So much attitude for someone dripping down their thighs. You want to stop?" The silence stretches, your eyes locked on his, and you can feel the smirk behind the mask. He nods. "That's what I thought. Now shut up and let me fuck this wet cunt."

His hands grip either side of the desk, his body looming over you—the scene from your fantasy you've envisioned a million times. Ghostface—dominant and rough—gods, you want it. So bad it fucking hurts.

Your head lolls to the side, eyes immediately finding Enzo's again—forgetting for half a second that he was even there. His jeans are unbuttoned now, his hand moving rhythmically beneath the denim, mask locked onto you with a single-minded focus that makes your breath stutter.

"Enz-ohhh—" you go to say something to him, but then Theo pushes into you—no warning, no slow build—just a deep, unforgiving thrust that knocks the breath from your lungs, and your voice cracks on his name, the syllables lost in the moan that spills out of you.

"Shit." Enzo groans in response. "Did you just—"

"She did," Theo snarls, his grip on your hips punishing as he slams into you again, harder this time. "The little slut just moaned your name."

There's cursing, from both of them, but it's all a blur in your ears, drowned out by the sound of Theo's hips slamming into yours, the fevered slap of skin on skin, the obscene sounds you can't help but make—

"Yeah, I noticed," Enzo mutters, and fuck, he sounds ruined, completely lost in the sight of you—his best friend, getting fucked by his other best friend. "Fuck."

Theo's hand finds your jaw, forcing your head back to face him, Ghostface mask looming above you like a delicious nightmare.

"Who's fucking you?" His voice is caught somewhere between a snarl and a purr. "Is it Enzo?"

"N-no—" you manage, trembling with every thrust.

"Of course it's not," Theo hisses, driving into you with punctual thrusts to make you feel him, making you cry out when he slams your cervix. "So why'd you moan his name? When it's—fuck—my cock inside you?"

"I—I didn't mean—" you whimper, eyes squeezed shut, but there's no escape. Not from the relentless pace of Theo's dick, not from the way Enzo's eyes never leave you, burning into you like fire. You can't form words.

"Mm—don't be shy now, topolina," Theo purrs, his voice thick with effort. His hips snap forward, and your back arches, a broken sound escaping you. "I think you just love having him in your mouth—his name, his—"

"Fuck, Nott, shut up," Enzo cuts in, his head thrown back, chest tense. "I don't want to hear your voice���"

You can hear the strain, the way he's barely holding it together—

"Look at him," Theo ignores Enzo's words. He lets go of your jaw. "He wants you. He's always wanted you."

Your eyes dart between them, head spinning, unable to form a coherent thought—Theo's fucking relentless, pushing you closer and closer to the edge—and every time you glance at Enzo, you see the way he's breaking, hand moving faster, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths—

"I never knew you were such a voyeur, Nott," Enzo spits, trying to sound casual. "Never took you for being such a filthy bastard."

"What can I say?" Theo groans in response, propping your legs up over his shoulders to drive into you deeper. "Just discovered a new interest, you should try it sometime."

They're still bantering, like this is some kind of fucked-up competition, like you're not about to shatter into a million fucking pieces while your best friend watches—after he got you here and humiliated you with a fucking bet—gods, you'd laugh if you weren't so utterly lost to the pleasure ripping through you.

"And watch you get off on it?" Enzo spits back, voice rough. "I'll—"

Theo snorts, cutting him off. "I think there's more than one person getting off on—"

"Shut the-fffuck up—please-" you manage to moan, the words barely intelligible. You look to Enzo, eyes wide and pleading. "Enz...come here."

"Yeah...?" Enzo breathes out, his voice catching, tipping his head back forward to look at you. “What?”

"Come here," you moan again, trembling, fraying under the pleasure that's building inside you from Theo’s insistent dick. "Let me help you."

For a moment, he hesitates, and you can’t tell what he’s thinking because the goddamn mask hides everything. He's always been the calm one between you—always stopping your drunk kisses, always refraining from taking things too far. But tonight, there’s no more of that calm left in him—

He stands.

Each step he takes feels like a lifetime, but when he's standing next to your head on the desk, towering above where you're laid out like a feast, you don't know whether it's the mask or the situation itself that has your pulse racing. Erotic and terrifying, the not-knowing—a power exchange in its purest form. Theo growls infront of you, his thrusts growing harder, more vicious, as you reach out to pull Enzo's hips closer.

You're already eyeing the throbbing bulge in his jeans, your mouth practically watering as you stare.

"Go on," you rasp, lips parting as you look up through your lashes. "Take it out."

The breath Enzo sucks in is sharp, a hitch in the darkness. His fingers tremble, just barely, as he pushes his pants down his thighs, and the noise that escapes him when his cock slips out and smacks his stomach—low, strangled—makes you moan and clench in response—he's huge.

Your breath catches, a soft exhale of, "oh, fuck."

And the words are barely out of your mouth before both Theo and Enzo respond—low growls and breathless groans that echo in the shadowed room, vibrating through you like electricity.

"Open your pretty mouth," Enzo whispers and you obey without hesitation, tongue slipping out, wanting, eager. His breath shudders, and you wish you could see his eyes. "Good girl."

And then he's pushing into you, sliding hot and thick over your tongue, and at that exact moment, Theo thrusts harder, deeper, and suddenly you're overwhelmed—both of them inside you, filling you, consuming every breath. Moans ripple through the dungeon air, a chorus of sin, and you shake with the sheer intensity of it all.

Theo's thumb finds your clit, starts swirling over it, and you keen—eyes rolling back in your head, Enzo’s leather hands in your hair to hold you still. Tears stream down your face as you gag, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth, but neither of them stop—if anything, they're both lost in it, in the wrecked, messy beauty of it all. Your hands claw at the desk, desperate for something to hold on to as the pleasure builds, tightens, spirals out of control.

Time collapses. It's been moments—it's been hours.

And then it happens—all three of you tipping over the edge at once, crashing into a release so fierce it shatters you. Your climax rips through you, violent, leaving you shaking, milking Theo until he's spent—until he's pouring his cum deep inside your cunt at the same time Enzo groans deep and spills his own over your tongue. A moment passes, and then Theo is the first to pull away, panting, tearing off his mask and dropping into the chair beside the desk, and Enzo follows, tugging his jeans back up before slumping into another chair, mask still on—

Both of them are sprawled there, utterly spent, just as wrecked as you.

And then, after a few long, tense moments, you hear it—the clink of Galleons exchanged. You don't even need to look up for it to register. Theo tosses the coins into Enzo’s greedy palm because he was the true fucking winner here. The sound cuts through the stillness, and with it, that smug, unmistakable sneer in Enzo's voice.

"Told you she'd love it."

Asshole.

You roll your eyes. Your limbs feel like they're moving through molasses as you stand, your hands mechanically fixing your costume, adjusting the fabric against your thighs.

"You know, Enzo, if you wanted to watch Theo fuck me that bad, all you had to do was ask."

"What can I say," he shrugs, lazy, like he's discussing the weather. "I enjoy a bit of gambling."

Theo snorts, adjusting his collar, as if none of this fazes him. His eyes flick from you to Enzo. "Next time you'll be paying me."

"Next time?" You cock an eyebrow. "How generous of you."

"There will be a next time," Enzo says, flipping one of the Galleons between his fingers, that same smirk playing on his lips. "And I'll get my turn."

Your pulse quickens at the sheer arrogance of it, the way he says it like it's not even up for debate. You hate how much you like this side of him.

"Maybe next time you should."

They nod, both of them wearing their smirks like crowns. "Until next time, then."

[thef1diary]

Sit On It | L. Norris

Kinktober 7/11 - Cockwarming

Summary: Quality time, he told you, but you didn’t realize that your seat while watching a horror movie would be Lando’s cock.

warnings: 18+ smut, cockwarming ofc, dom!lando, filthy filthy words.

wc: 3.1k

kinktober masterlist

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Lando’s voice is a low, teasing murmur against your ear as you’re seated in his lap, your back against his chest.

His breath is warm on your skin, the heat of his body pressing into yours from behind. His grip on your waist tightens as he adjusts himself beneath you, making the shift seem casual, but you know better. The slight motion causes him to sink deeper, splitting you open, every inch of him pushing against your walls, filling you so completely that it borders on overwhelming.

Your eyes are fixated on the TV screen in front of you, mirroring his line of sight, but the images and sounds barely register. Whatever horror movie he put on is a distant blur, completely overshadowed by the way he’s filling you, the dull ache of being stretched around him that threatens to unravel you with every passing second.

Lando knows exactly what he’s doing—knows that with your back pressed against his chest, you’re acutely aware of every breath he takes, every subtle twitch of his hips. The cocky smirk on his face tells you he’s in no hurry to give you what you crave.

You clench around him, your body instinctively trying to pull him even deeper, to feel every last inch of him, but his hands keep you still. His fingertips press into your skin, leaving little crescent imprints, keeping you pinned to him in a possessive hold.

“Lan…” you mutter, barely managing the single syllable, your voice trembling with frustration and the faintest hint of need.

You can feel his amusement radiating from him, the vibration of a low chuckle rumbling through his chest as he keeps you pinned against him. His hand slides possessively over your hip, fingers pressing into your skin like he’s making sure you stay exactly where he wants you—right there, on his lap, wrapped around his cock without so much as a hint of mercy.

“Not enjoying our little movie night?” he taunts, his tone dripping with mock concern as he lets his other hand wander lazily up to your lower stomach, stroking the skin just above where he’s buried inside you, making your breath hitch at the contact.

You bite down on your lower lip, trying to stifle the frustrated moan that threatens to escape. You’re almost starting to regret agreeing to this, wondering what made you think you could handle it. The moment he suggested “quality time” on the couch with a movie, you should’ve known there’d be a catch. Now, you’re trapped in a torturous game of stillness, your body pulsing with the ache of being stretched to its limit, every shift or breath causing a fresh wave of heat to coil low in your belly.

“Pass the popcorn,” Lando says suddenly, his voice maddeningly casual, as if you weren’t trembling in his arms and desperate for him to do something—anything—to give you relief.

He nods toward the coffee table, where the bowl sits just out of reach. It’s a simple request, spoken so casually it almost seems innocent, but you know better. He’s toying with you, pushing you just far enough to see how badly you’ll need to break.

For a moment, you consider protesting, but his hand tightens around your waist, guiding you forward. As you lean to grab the bowl, his cock eases out of you until only the thick tip remains nestled inside. The sudden emptiness hits like a shock, and you can’t help but clench around him, your body tightening in a desperate attempt to hold onto what little is left. The sensation is maddening, the emptiness almost unbearable as every inch that you lost leaves you aching and hollow.

You suck in a breath, reaching out for the popcorn, your fingers trembling slightly as you fumble to grasp the edge of the bowl. The second your fingers close around it, you feel his hand press firmly on your hip, guiding you back down.

His cock pushes back inside, stretching you open inch by inch until you’re completely filled again, buried to the hilt. It’s an unrelenting stretch, the sensation of being so deeply impaled that your legs start to tremble.

A small, unintentional whimper slips past your lips, your body betraying just how deeply it affects you. Lando’s smirk widens, and you can feel it against the back of your neck as he takes the bowl from your trembling hands, setting it aside.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his tone a mix of mock praise and raw satisfaction, his hand drifting lower to trace the curve of your inner thigh. “Did you miss having me inside you, even for those few seconds?”

You give a shaky nod, your breath hitching as you settle back into his lap, feeling the full, deep stretch of him inside you. The weight of his cock buried so completely makes your pulse quicken, every inch of him filling you to the point of delicious, unbearable pressure. You don’t trust your voice to speak, so you bite your lip and just nod again, hoping it’s enough of an answer to satisfy him.

“Thought so,” Lando murmurs, his tone dripping with that cocky satisfaction as he leans closer, letting his lips brush lightly against your ear. “Then we’ll stay just like this until the movie’s over.” He lets the words sink in, his hands settling on your hips, his fingers splayed possessively across your skin as if to ensure you don’t even think about moving.

You stiffen slightly in his grasp, realizing with a mix of frustration and need that he’s serious. The movie, still playing in the background, might as well be a world away for all you’re aware of it. You don’t even know what’s happening on screen, and other than hearing constant screams of bloody murder, your focus is completely swallowed by the way he fills you, every inch of your body screaming for him to move, to give you more. But then you hear him shuffle as he picks up the remote, your pulse pounding in your ears.

“And since you weren’t paying attention,” he continues, his tone dropping lower as his breath grazes your neck, “we’re going to start it over.”

With that, he presses the button, and the movie rewinds back to the beginning. His cock remains buried inside you, thick and unyielding. You can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat through his chest against your back, each breath you take making your body clench instinctively around him.

Lando’s hands slide up to your waist, his thumbs tracing slow, lazy circles on your skin as if to soothe you, but the grip is firm enough to keep you pinned exactly where he wants you. “Relax, sweetheart,” he whispers, his voice laced with a hint of amusement, “we’ve got all night.”

You try to relax, but the fullness of him inside you is maddening, a constant reminder of how badly you need more than just his cock sitting still inside you. You draw in a deep breath, hoping it will ease the ache between your legs, but all it does is make you more aware of the way he stretches you, every inch of him throbbing against your sensitive walls. It’s a sweet kind of torture, and Lando’s not giving you any mercy.

He shifts his hips slightly, just enough to make you gasp, but not enough to truly give you what you crave. The smallest of movements sends a jolt of pleasure through you, the pressure building with every passing second.

The movie restarts, its opening scenes flickering on the screen, but your attention is glued to the sensation of being completely filled, stretched so deep it almost feels like you can’t take it. Your body is tense, your hands gripping the edges of the couch as you struggle to stay still, every muscle in your thighs quivering from the effort.

“Come on, now,” he murmurs, his fingers tightening on your waist as he feels the way you’re fighting to keep from moving. “You can do better than that.” There’s a teasing lilt in his voice, a knowing edge that tells you he’s enjoying every second of this little game. His hand slides up to your chest, his touch imperceptibly light as he brushes over the curve of your breast over your shirt.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “And neither are you.” He pauses, placing a kiss on your cheek. “So just sit there and take it, sweetheart,” he adds, his lips grazing your neck. “Because you’re not getting anything else until the credits roll.”

Your pulse races as you realize just how long he plans to keep you like this. The movie stretches ahead of you, nearly two hours of being held in place, filled to the brim, with nothing to do but feel every single inch of him.

“Unless…” His voice trails off as his hands slide down to spread your legs, effortlessly hooking them over his thighs. The new position makes you gasp, every inch of him shifting deeper inside. He chuckles softly at the sound, his fingers drifting to trace slowly over your slit, teasing the sensitive skin.

“Unless you can cum just like this,” he murmurs, dipping his head close so his breath fans over your ear. “With my cock stuffed deep inside you and my fingers playing with your pretty little clit.”

He drags his fingers lower, circling your entrance where you are stretched around his cock, before moving back up to your clit, brushing against it with the lightest touch. “If you can manage that,” he continues, his tone low and husky, “I might not make you wait until the end of the movie. I might just fuck you properly right here and now.”

His fingers swirl slowly, never quite giving you the pressure you need, just enough to make you ache for more. “But if you can’t…” he adds, a mischievous glint in his eye as he meets your gaze, “then you’ll just have to stay right there, sweetheart, filled and desperate, until those credits roll.”

His fingers continue their lazy circles over your clit, the teasing touch sending jolts of pleasure through your body that only intensify the ache deep inside. His gaze locks onto yours, a sly smile tugging at his lips as he watches every twitch, every shudder of your body. “Do you want that?” he asks, his voice a low murmur. “Do you want to be my good girl and cum just like this, with my cock buried so deep inside you?”

His fingers press just a little harder against your clit, a delicious contrast to the slow, steady throb of being stretched around him. “Or…” He lets the word hang in the air, his thumb now joining the motion, brushing against your swollen bud. “Would you rather keep struggling, knowing you’re not getting anything more until this movie is over?”

The way he’s looking at you—like he already knows the answer, like he’s daring you to beg—sends a fresh wave of heat curling through your belly.

You try to find the words, but they catch in your throat, your breath coming out in shallow pants. The pleasure thrumming through your body is too much and not nearly enough all at once, and the way his fingers move so leisurely over your clit is driving you to the edge of desperation. Without thinking, you lean back against him, seeking more contact, your head falling into the crook of his neck. The heat of his skin seeps into you, grounding you even as your pulse races.

Your hand lifts to his cheek, a quiet plea in the touch as your fingers trail along his jawline.

He hums in satisfaction at the way you press against him, his lips grazing the shell of your ear as he takes his time with you. His fingers slide down, teasing your entrance again, feeling the way you stretch and pulse around his cock, before drifting back up to your clit, this time with a bit more pressure. The shift is subtle, but it’s enough to send a bolt of pleasure straight through you, making you gasp.

“I need words, love,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrates against your back.

“Please, Lando,” The words slip out, breathless and unsteady, your legs trembling where they’re draped over his thighs, spread open and exposed for him.

“There we go,” he hums, “now watch the movie.” His fingers pick up a slow, deliberate rhythm, pressing down just enough to make you keen for more, but still holding back from what you truly crave.

You arch your back, pushing your hips forward as you pant against his neck, your body seeking every ounce of friction you can get. His other hand slips under your shirt, his palm finding the curve of your breast, and he rolls your nipple between his fingers, sending another wave of pleasure through you.

He returned his gaze to the TV screen, but you can feel his focus remain solely on you, his fingers working expertly between your legs. He pinches your clit, hard enough to make you jolt against him, a breathy moan escaping your lips as you body arches.

He gives a small chuckle, the vibration against your back making your skin tingle. The casualness of his attention on the movie while playing your body like an instrument is maddening, only heightening the intensity of each pulse of pleasure.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice soft with a trace of amusement. “So needy.” He rolls your clit between his fingers, the motion slow, deliberate, and oh so devastating. You can’t help the way your hips buck up, chasing the friction, desperate for more.

His other hand slips away from your tits to tighten his hold on your hips, keeping you pinned against him, your legs splayed over his lap and unable to close.

“Stay still, love,” he instructs, adding a little more pressure. The sound of the movie plays on in the background, but it feels like a distant hum, utterly irrelevant next to the sensation of his fingers circling you again and again.

Your breaths are ragged, each one catching as he changes the rhythm, just enough to keep you on edge but never quite letting you fall over it. When his hand stills altogether, you whimper, your fingers curling against his arm in a wordless plea.

He drags his lips down the side of your neck, nibbling the sensitive skin there as his fingers resume their torment, rubbing over your clit in tight, firm circles that send sparks of ecstasy coursing through your veins. You can feel your release building, that familiar tension tightening with each stroke, threatening to break at any moment.

“Beg for it,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. “Beg for me to let you cum.”

You can feel the subtle pulse of his cock as you clench down on it, matching the rhythm of his fingers as they torture your clit, rubbing with just the right amount of pressure.

His other hand slips up to cup your breast underneath your shirt, fingers teasing the sensitive peak. He pinches your nipple, rolling it between his fingers in time with the circles on your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. The double assault on your senses makes you gasp, your body trembling in his lap as he toys with you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Please,” you whimper, the word coming out breathless and broken. “Please, Lando, I need to cum.”

He hums in approval, his voice low and velvety in your ear. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his fingers working faster, rubbing your clit in tight, insistent circles that send sparks shooting down your spine. “Let me hear those pretty sounds,” he says, his tone dripping with satisfaction as he listens to your desperate moans, each one rising higher as you get closer to falling apart.

You can’t hold back any longer, your body arching into him as your release crashes over you, a wave of pure ecstasy that leaves you gasping for air. His fingers don’t stop, prolonging the pleasure until you’re a quivering mess, your walls clenching rhythmically around his cock as your climax wrings you dry.

The sensation of you tightening around him draws a deep, guttural groan from his throat, his breath hitching as he feels every pulse and flutter of your orgasm.

“Fuck,” he mutters, the sound rough and strained as your release squeezes him from the inside, each wave of your pleasure making his cock throb. His hand on your breast tightens instinctively, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he savors the way you come undone for him, the way your body trembles and clings to him, desperate for more even as you’re falling apart.

“That’s it, love,” he groans again, his voice thick with need, the sound vibrating against your ear. “Just like that… feel so good wrapped around me.” His hips twitch subtly, the movement causing his cock to press even deeper, making your body jolt with the lingering aftershocks as his fingers finally begin to slow, drawing out the last delicious pulses of your release.

A sudden scream from the movie startles you both, breaking the heated moment. You can’t help but chuckle, your voice still a little breathless. “I think we should turn that off,” you say, glancing toward the TV.

“Really?” Lando’s teasing tone makes you smile. “Thought you said you liked horror movies.” He’s still inside you, and you playfully clench around him, earning a low groan that rumbles through his chest.

“Not more than your cock,” you reply, arching an eyebrow as you throw the challenge back at him. “Now, are you going to properly fuck me or not?”

Without missing a beat, Lando grabs the remote and switches off the movie, the room plunging into quiet anticipation. His hands find your waist as he lifts you off his cock, leaving you momentarily empty and aching for him again. Before you can protest, he swiftly throws you over his shoulder, a hand coming down to smack your ass playfully as he heads toward the bedroom.

You laugh, the excitement bubbling up inside you as he carries you with ease, your fingers digging into his back for support. “You’d better not keep me waiting,” you warn, your voice filled with playful impatience.

“Don’t worry, love,” he replies, a grin evident in his tone. “You’re about to get everything you’ve been begging for.”

Taglist: @cheer-bear-go-vroom @ggaslyp1 @nominsgirl @moll1701 @mrs-saturday @teamnovalak @sassy-chan @ruti26-11 @kennysimp101 @falling-feels-like-flying @laeblue @tremendousstarlighttragedy @bountychanti @savewaterdrinkvodka @cloud-55 @aarchiives @holylovercopsludge @black-fireproofs @lazydragonpeach @biancathecool @myownwritings @rebelatbay @ethereal0810 @leclercsluvs @01rrdbull @fallingforfalll2 @lilorose25 @f1fantasys

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ mad with need ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ you want him so bad that you feel like you’re going crazy so he indulges you┊3.0k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: smut!! dom logan & sub reader┊x wade wilson too, age gap, dirty fantasies from a horny reader (who is actually insecure about herself), size difference, no prep we’re dying like nicepool, riding & unprotected piv, breeding/creampie, a bit rushed i need this out my wips

➤ author's note: okay so this is actually the very first logan fic i started, but i have no idea why it took me so long to finish it? it’s a bit all over the place, but i hope some people enjoy anyway!

has he realized you were there and simply testing your self-control, or is he just being so effortlessly sexy again that you aren’t sure if you’re in love or jealous? was there any other reason for him to be laid out on the beat-up couch like something to feast on when he was simply holding a bottle of liquor in one hand to sip on and flipping through the channels of a barely-working box television with a remote in the other? why else would he be so delectable around a known pervert(s, wade is just as bad as you are, just more focused on the possible destruction of his home rather than the pansexual panic between you and logan plaguing him) if not to tempt you?

you’re constantly fawning over the sight of him and letting out dreamy sighs which have become more common lately than you would like to admit, swearing that you could gaze upon him for every second of the day and not tire of it. they say “god gives his most difficult battles to his strongest soldiers”, yet the battle assigned to you is restraining yourself from pouncing on him at the very moment and begging to suck his cock. you know that you’re horny most hours of the day and also kinda a brazen whore, but the way he makes you wet in record time should be worthy of a gold olympic medal.

every time his lips wrap around the rim of the glass bottle, you can’t help but imagine them somewhere else. the image of his handsome face between your legs and scruffy facial hair coated in your slick while he ravishes you haunts your mind whenever you try to sleep, yet the phantom sensation of his tongue on you while his nose stimulates your clit helps you rest in the end. you bet that he would be great at eating pussy too, with his sharp tongue and arrogant attitude— god. 

he’s also so jacked that even when he’s resting, his muscles still seem to bulge with prominent veins like a nurse’s wet dream and it has you downright drooling. now that the sleeves of his suit were gone, you could see how beefy his arms were, and seeing any inch of his skin had you acting up like a victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time. he could probably crush your skull like an egg if you ever found yourself head-locked in them (you’ve seen him do it to wade out of irritation, and you’ve never been so jealous).

and not to mention how peggable his shapely ass is, there’s really no limit to all the things you want to try with him if you were given the chance—

“are you finished staring?” his gruff voice brought you back to reality, refocusing your vision as he made a slight gesture to his body with one of his rare smirks, “like what you see?” it’s a rhetorical question, he knows how good he looks despite his age and you have already made your attraction towards him well-established. 

you don’t need to say anything, he can tell what you’re thinking as clearly as day, so you don’t bother making any dirty remarks like usual and just walk out the room. you paced around the house for a minute or two to calm yourself down until you eventually ran into wade. “oh my god,” you cupped your face with your hands, eyes becoming big and round as if you were going to cry, “i want him so bad, i feel like i’m gonna lose my mind if i don’t fuck him!”

“well, why haven’t you? i know for a fact that my presence isn’t enough to stop you from climbing him like a tree, so spill it!”

“uhhhh,” you pointed your fingers together to exaggerate self-consciousness, “what if… what if he doesn’t like me and just sees me as some annoying, excessively horny kid?”

“can you believe this bitch?” he scoffed, looking at the invisible audience that was always watching before grabbing your shoulders and violently shaking you, “listen here missy, he definitely likes you— i have yet to see that man smile at anything else that isn’t your face and comments that rival jjk twitter fans in vulgarity! why are you suddenly getting cold feet now when you’re such a player? you’re suddenly screaming, crying, and throwing up over peanut whom you’ve been hitting on non-stop since we found him?!”

“i don’t know! it’s different, he’s my hero, and— i know it’s hard for you to believe, but he’s not even half the asshole my previous flings were. besides, he so fucking hot—”

“yeah, but he’s also so fucking old— his dick is probably all shriveled up—” the sound of the said man clearing his throat made him jump out of his skin, slowly turning his head to look at the older man before giggling nervously and waving his hands around in some form of awkward greeting. even if he can regenerate and wounds are more like papercuts, the last thing he wanted was to get stabbed in the balls by his adamantium claws again for making such a comment. “ahaha, how much did you hear…?”

“enough,” he grunted, turning his attention to you, “and you’re coming with me.”

“huh—?” there was hardly a moment for you to properly react before he suddenly bent down to grab you by the waist and toss you over his shoulder, “you’re not even gonna ask me to dinner first?!” you must have looked like a fish out of the water with how your mouth was agape with surprise, and you heard him genuinely chuckle in amusement. both from the fact that you didn’t see this coming after all you’ve been saying to him as well as the fact that he could pick you up and throw you around like you weighed nothing.

“well, you didn’t exactly greet me with a ‘hello’ before shamelessly undressing me with your eyes when we first met, now did you?” you couldn’t see if he was smiling or not considering that you were upside-down. the current angle only gave you a close-up view of his perfect ass (not that you were complaining, you need to know his squat routine), unsure if the heat on your face was from the embarrassment of him calling you out or simply from the blood rushing to your head.

“what about me? are you lovebirds really going to leave me all by myself, lonely and yearning for the companionship of another while you two fuck like rabbits?”

“ahh, go fuck yourself.” the grin on his face dissipated the moment he opened his mouth, but it wasn’t enough to ruin his mood as he carried you away to the closest bedroom available, quickly flinging you on the bed without a bother to be careful when handling you since he knew that you could and have taken worse as deadpool’s sidekick. “why are you so nervous? think i don’t want you as much as you want me?”

“wait, actually?” your usually confident facade of the overly forward flirt was faltering more and more by the second.

“you’re so busy ogling my body that you haven’t even noticed the way i look at you, huh?” it’s obvious logan was an absolute beast of a man, but when he cages you with his arms between his bulky frame and the mattress, you feel like a little field mouse against a lion. the way your pupils dilate as you look up at him with adorned excitement has him so fucking feral, heat stirring in his stomach and blood rushing to his cock. he traced over your outfit, admiring how the skin-tight leather hugged your curved. “wearing such a slutty little things that leaves nothing to the imagination, and you expected me not to think about pinning you down and fucking you until you pass out?”

you shivered at his words, arousal pooling in your underwear and warmth spreading throughout your body under your skin. this cheeky son of a bitch can smell it too, the sweet smell of desire, sensing how needy you are for his touch and how your pussy is just begging for his attention. 

as much as he wanted to rip your clothing off and pound into you like there was no tomorrow, he wanted to take his time to properly treasure the cute sidekick who has been reminding him how it feels to be a man again, young and unafraid to pursue the woman of his dreams and treat her right the way that countless of others failed to do. (you’re going to laugh hysterically at him later on down the line when you hear him say that, never thinking you could be the object of anyone’s affection past a one-night stand, but the look in his eyes makes you realize he’s telling the truth and you’ll get all flustered over it.) 

you can taste the alcohol from earlier when he kisses you and moan into it, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer, all teeth, tongue, and animalistic want. he ran a hand down your torso to reach the zipper of your suit, undoing it in one swift motion, exposing your bare chest to his eager eyes.

“no bra?”

“i don’t need it when the suit— ah!” 

he cut you off, not caring about the intricacies of how the costume supported everything when he would only get distracted, moving his lips to take one of your perk nipples in his mouth and sucking like it was going to give him milk or something while pinching the other one in between his fingers. he’s like a kid on christmas playing with his new toy: palming at your breasts, cupping and squishing them together, and realizing that his large hands could practically cover them entirely.

“fuckk, you’re so pretty, doll,” he drawled, letting go of your teat with a ‘pop’ and kissing your neck before making you gasp by sinking his teeth into your skin. you gasped at the sudden sensation, deep enough to leave a lasting indent but not deep enough to draw blood, as he soothed the fresh wound by licking it with his tongue. everyone was going to know that you were his, especially that motherfucker he knows is listening in on the other side of the door with his cock in his hands.

 “logan…” you rasp, voice barely above a whisper.

“what is it, princess?” it was a nickname he has used plenty of times, yet it felt completely different in such a sexually charged situation, so much more intimate in a way that you feel your heart racing even faster than before and a rush of energy within. 

“need you…” you murmured.

“come on, a little louder, you need to use your words.” 

“fucking hell,” you covered your face with your hands, trying to ignore the way your cheeks burned, “i need you, logan! i’m gonna go crazy if you don’t fuck me right now!”

“hm, is that so?” he had been resting on his side up until now, laying on his back and lifting you up with both hands under your arms. you found yourself sitting pretty in his lap, straddling him, legs on either side of his waist. “why don’t you work for it then? work for what you wanted so badly this entire time?”

you inhaled sharply, looking down at this fine specimen of a mutant under you made of pure muscle and adamantium with a noticeable tent in his pants, a cocky grin gracing his features daring you to continue. only a fool wouldn’t take up his challenge. biting the inside of your mouth, you began to fully strip yourself of all clothing, kicking it off to the side to be forgotten and showing off your beautiful bare body that logan has been dreaming about since the moment he met you. “take your clothes off too,” you huffed, “it’s not fair for me to be the only one naked.”

he hummed in agreement, taking off the upper half of his yellow and blue-detailed suit, revealing his rippling abs and pecs— age has yet to make a dent in his physique, he doesn’t even look real. he’s not going to remove the bottom half though, both because you’re already on top of him and because you still need to “work for it.” 

experimentally, you rolled your hips on his bulge, feeling a twinge of amusement when he visibly had to clench his jaw to prevent a moan from slipping out. he’s just as pent-up as you are, no matter how hard he’s trying to hide it right now. you fiddled with the metal of his zipper for a moment before pulling it down, motions fidgety with nerves yet still determined to see this through. 

your eyes widen at the sight of his fully erect cock, noting instantly that he’s bigger than any other guy you’ve been with, yet still feeling your mouth water at the size and the vein trailing its underbelly. “is it even going to fit?” you manage to breathe out, reaching out to run a finger over the leaking tip and hearing him hiss.

“only one way to find out, but i think you can take it.” 

placing your hands on his shoulders for balance, you put his theory to the test and raised your body to sink yourself onto him, whimpering at the pleasurable stretch when you manage to make it past the tip. you’re so fucking soaked from your own thoughts and the few minutes of foreplay earlier that you didn’t even need his fingers to prep you, just using your slick as a form of natural lube and feeling him slip into you inch by inch.

“that’s it, doll, just like that,” he praised, the words going right to your head, really enjoying the show of you struggling to take all of him.

“mmhh, lo—” his name came out in a more whiny voice than expected with your eyes rolling back and nails raking into his skin. your thighs were aching with the constant repetitive motion of working yourself up and down his cock, taking one step back for two steps forward, more than halfway there yet unsure if you could handle it all when you felt so impossibly full already.

“shhh, i know, i know, sweetheart— just take your time, i’m not going anywhere.” his words are so sweet despite being a complete asshole by laying back and letting you do all the hard work, hands behind his head and everything while watching his cock slowly disappearing between your folds.

you look at him through glossy half-lidded eyes, brain turned to absolute mush, not even realizing that you had finally taken him to the base and was comfortably nestled on his cock. it took a few moments to adjust to his girth, breathing heavily with the swelling feeling of satisfaction developing within you. you have barely even started, and yet it was already so much better than anything else— he was so much better than anyone else. 

“you okay?” he waits for you to blink to process his words before nodding slightly, letting out a soft ‘yeah’ before your eyes went wide when he suddenly grabbed your waist and positioned you under him once again. you didn’t notice because you went dumb with dick (to put it bluntly), but he had been restraining himself from flipping you over to be on top or trying to buck his hips into you before you were ready. 

he then started thrusting into you at a relentless pace, your hands flying up to his biceps and clinging on for dear life to find purchase. there was no frame to go with this mattress you were resting on, but you were sure it would be banging against the wall until it broke if it was there. your eyes were screwed shut with your head thrown back into the pillow, letting out pathetic pitched moans along with stutters of his name as the orgasm in your stomach builds.

“aah, lo-logan!”

“don’t worry, i got you,” he lazily circled your clit with his thumb, feeling you clench even more tightly at the action, “just let yourself go, relax— cum for me, doll.”

you cried out as your climax washed over you, gushing all over his cock and the pants of his suit that neither of you bothered to take off earlier. it’s a shame that you ruined his clothing so soon when he just got this costume, but honestly, he likes it a lot better when the yellow is stained with the evidence of how good he made you feel.

the way your walls spasmed around him made him quickly follow suit, shooting ribbons of his seed into you and painting your insides white. perhaps he would have been able to hold on for a bit longer when he was younger, but he can’t find himself caring in the least when you were looking up at him like he was everything right now.

he leaned down to kiss you, slowly pulling out of you, being careful not to rest on top of you and crush you under his weight, generally being uncharacteristically sweet towards you in stark comparison to how he was rocking your world like you were the last two souls on earth just a minute ago.

“so… do you like me?” it was the tone he grew accustomed to when you and wade were teasing him, feeling you wrap your arms around him with a sigh and snuggling into his chest.

“yeah… i like you a lot more than you think…”

[thewidowsledger]

Toothbrush

© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Pairings: Nerd!Natasha Romanoff x MILF!Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Tags | Warnings: +18, AMAB!Natasha, beefy and super nerdy Natasha, MILF!reader, reader is 39 and Natasha is 22, dating apps, Tony being a good and a bad friend at the same time, lying about age, reader has sons, dirty talk, switch r & Nat but more like a top!Natasha, breeding kink, mommy kink, breast sucking, riding, teasing, rough sex, creampie, squirting, overstimulation, fingering (r receiving), ghosting (kinda), unintentionally stealing clothes👀 (?)

Author’s Note: I know I said I am going to post this tonight but my daimonion is telling me to post this right now, lol. This fic is inspired from this request, but I changed it like a lot lot I guess...I hope it's fine for whoever requested it🥹 the title is inspired by DNCE's song: Toothbrush I am currently banging with this song for weeks now.

Navigation | Masterlist

⧗

“F-fuck please be bad Mommy.” Natasha whined.

“No mommy wants to be bad to their baby…”

⧗

“What do you want Tony?” Natasha chuckled as she saw her best friend on her apartment door at 7 o’clock early in the morning, standing there holding a pizza box. “Really? Pizza? Early this morning?”

Tony rolled his eyes and pushed his way inside, shutting the door behind him. “Well, thank you for the warm welcome,” he teased. “Before I go to my asshole of a father’s place, I want to do one thing. Something purposeful for you, my friend.”

Nat raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what would that be?” she asked, as she led him to the living room of her small apartment.

“Let me see your phone,” he said, taking it out of her hands.

“Hey, wait!” the redhead protested, but Tony was already fiddling with it. “What are you doing?!”

“Setting up an account on a dating app,” he replied, typing away.

“Wow. So this is your grand purpose? Setting me up on a dating app? I’m touched.” She said sarcastically. She watched him, a box of pizza on his left hand and her phone on the other, seriously typing whatever it is that is asked to fulfill the account—he is really serious about setting her up on a dating site.

“You gotta be kidding Tony…”

“Nope. Enough robotics Romanoff before you turn into one.”

Nat’s eyes widened as she suddenly realized that she told Tony her plans. And a wave of regret washed over her. She had meticulously scheduled out her entire summer break even though it hasn't started yet, she intended to spend time working on her robotics project every single day of the summer break. But now, with Tony in the picture with her phone in his hands, she could already imagine the chaos that was going to ensue.

The dating preference section came up and Tony immediately, with no hesitations, clicked women. It had been common knowledge among their friends that Nat had a strong liking for girls. He chuckled to himself, thinking about the kind of women the app would likely recommend for her.

“Let’s make things spicy,” he said under his breath as he set the age range for Natasha’s profile.

With a few taps, he set the age preference to 30-50 years old. “You’ll thank me for this, Nat,” he said with a sly grin on his face.

Every time he and Nat would pass some women on the street, Tony would stealthily observe Nat’s reactions. Whether it was a woman walking past them with her kids or a lady jogging in tight-fitting leggings who he was sure was around 35 to 40, the red head is drooling already. Tony had taken note of Natasha's undeniable interest in women—women who are old enough to be her mother.

The last step came, he only needed to pick a photo of Natasha and it's all done and set up, ready to swipe left and right. So he went through her gallery to find photos of her, but her gallery is just full of screenshots about freaking science.

As Tony sifted through Natasha's gallery, his mood grew more impatient and bored.

“Seriously Nat, you’ve got like a million screenshots of scientific articles and memes about space, and when you do actually take a photo, it’s of some historical artifact in a museum. This is like a grandma’s photo album…” He grumbled, scrolling further.

“Okay, that’s enough.” The redhead stood from the sofa but Tony backed away not even looking at her, too busy to smile like an idiot with whatever he saw on her phone.

“Damn, Nat,” he muttered under his breath, a smirk forming on his face. “I had no idea you were hiding this much muscle under those baggy clothes.” He came across a couple of mirror shots that Natasha had taken in the gym. In these photos, she was wearing a tight-fitting black tank top and some baggy shorts, showing off her muscular arms and strong physique.

Tony chuckled, his eyes still glued to the photos of Natasha’s flexing arms. “Yeah, definitely milfs will absolutely love these shots.”

Nat couldn't help but blush, both at the compliment and at the mention of milfs. “You really think so?” she asked, a hint of shyness in her voice.

“Oh yeah, they would swipe right in a heartbeat,” he said, chuckling. “These are juicy…”

“Okay, you sounded perverted. Gimme that…” Natasha was finally able to get her phone back and Tony raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I was just trying to get some good pictures of you in there. You gotta give the ladies something to look at, you know?”

Tony watched as Natasha went through the app, “You just need to click confirm, and it’s all set up…but it’s still your choice. And…I gotta go, mom’s gonna call me.”

Natasha paused and looked at Tony with relief and confusion. She was grateful for the break in the conversation, but she also didn’t want him to leave just yet. “Okay...go ahead. Can’t keep mommy waiting.” She said jokingly.

“Okay now that sounded perverted coming from you, Romanoff.” Tony pointed a finger at her while walking backwards towards the redhead’s apartment door.

“I’m just kidding,” Natasha let out some giggles as she walked Tony off her apartment, “Don’t kill your father, Tony.”

“I’ll try not to, I can’t believe mom wanted me to spend half of my summer with him. I love her so much that I’ll do anything she asks of me even though it’s spending some time with the man who hurt her.”

“You’ll be fine, just don’t get your hand bloody like last time.”

Tony chuckled and saluted her back, then turned to leave. “I make no promises, Romanoff.” He sighed, Natasha just gently patted Tony’s shoulder and when she was about to close her door, her best friend's foot stopped it from closing.

“Goodluck with the milf hunting.”

⧗

For the next few days, Nat found herself thinking about the dating app and Tony’s playful attempt to set her up. She would secretly open the app every now and then but couldn't bring herself to swipe in any direction. She thinks all these women are deserving to be dated, but she could only pick one of course.

Finally, one night, Natasha couldn't resist the temptation any longer. She sat on her couch to browse through the potential matches. She’d take her frustration out on her pillow, mumbling to herself about how ridiculous this all was. But she continued, her heart raced as she began swiping through the profiles. Her cheeks flushed with a hint of embarrassment as she came across various women who fit her preference—older, attractive milf, thanks to her best friend who knew exactly what her type is.

As she read the bios, she couldn’t help but be intrigued by some of their descriptions. They were confident, successful, and had a certain allure about them that made her even more flustered.

She should've swiped right to have more chances of winning like what Tony advised her, but Natasha continued swiping left through profiles. Yes, she noticed that the women she saw were undeniably beautiful, however, she wanted to see something different, that's why she started swiping left. It wasn't because she found them unattractive, but rather because they didn't quite match the image she had in mind.

She was so intimidated, all these women looks so powerful—like how women should be. So far she'd seen woman who's a pilot, CEO, business owners and many jobs that she for sure puts a lot of zeros on their bank accounts. Not that she didn't want that and she's definitely not opposed to the idea of being a sugar baby, but...she wanted someone who's simple, domestic yet can lead her.

Each profile she scrolled through brought a mix of excitement and anxiety, yet curiosity pushed her to keep searching for that one woman who would make her heart skip a beat.

“Y/N, 39 years old, mother of two, loves gardening, sketching…” she read to herself, trying not to blush as she looked at your photo. Most women she had seen in this app either had a picture with the Eiffel tower or a selfie inside the high premium car—no offense, she loved everything old women do but you, you had a picture of yourself in a beautiful garden she thought was in your place, surrounded by lush greenery. Your genuine smile and a sparkle in her eyes stood out to Natasha.

“Just 4 hours drive away from here…”

Natasha's heart raced as she nervously swiped right on your profile, her hand trembling a little. The moment she did it, she immediately slammed her phone shut and threw herself onto her bed, her heart pounding in her chest.

The thought of you potentially seeing her profile and possibly matching with her made her stomach flutter. The redhead buried her face into her pillow, unable to wipe the redness of her face.

She stood and immediately put on her glasses to distract herself from the constant nervous feeling of seeing a notification from the app, Natasha threw herself into various activities to keep her mind occupied. She deep cleaned her apartment, organized her cluttered drawers, and even got started on her robotics project.

Days passed, but there still wasn't any notification from the dating app. And Natasha actually forgot about it, the robotics project she's working on consuming and occupying every time she had for the day.

Natasha was deep in thought, working on her project, when the sudden notification sound from her phone jolted her from her focus. Startled, she picked up her phone, expecting it to be an email from the agency she applied for an internship or her sister asking for some 5$ on cash app.

However, when she looked at the screen, her heart almost jumped out of her ribs when she saw the dating app icon. She shakingly and immediately opened it.

You: Hi dear

Natasha found herself biting her lower lip, wrestling with her thoughts. She’d faced down debaters, cracked numerous codes, and aced countless exams and quizzes. But responding to a simple “hi” from an older woman had her completely flustered. It was a ridiculous feeling, but she couldn't deny the butterflies in her stomach at the thought of conversing with you.

She typed and deleted various responses, unsure of what to say, until finally, she decided on something simple yet respectful at least.

Natasha: Good evening, how are you?

You: I’m good, just finished cooking some dinner. You?

Natasha: I haven't eaten anything yet, I was working for a project.

You: That's not good for your health and for those massive muscles of yours.

Natasha felt her cheeks grow warm as she read your reply about her muscles. Tony was indeed right when he said milfs will definitely like those. She hadn't expected you to notice that detail, but reading it brought a smile to her face.

Natasha: Massive muscles? I think you're exaggerating a bit.

She typed, trying to downplay your compliment, yet secretly loving the attention.

You: Exaggerating? Not one bit, love. Your biceps are godly💪🔥

You responded, clearly amused by her attempt to deny your compliment.

Natasha felt her heart rate increase at your playful banter and the cute emojis you used. She couldn't help but feel the pain of her cheeks from smiling with your attention and the nicknames you’re calling her.

Nat: Thanks :)))

You: So…where exactly do you live in Brooklyn?

⧗

“Y-you should... probably stop that…” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “I-I'm not... I'm not good at…”

You slowly start to grind your hips against Natasha, feeling her body tense up beneath you. Her eyes dilate, and she licks her lips nervously.

Despite her protests, you continue to grind against her, feeling her hips instinctively buck up to meet yours. Natasha’s face turns a deep shade of red, and she lets out a soft whimper as she feels herself getting hard beneath you. “P-please... stop…”

And you did, you pause, lifting your hips away from her but you were still straddling her—kneeling straightly where your tits were right in front of her. Natasha whines softly at the loss of the friction, her hips bucking forward as if seeking more. You smirk mischievously, leaning in close to her ear. “I’m stopping because my baby told me to. Mommy has to listen to what her baby says, mommy doesn’t wanna be bad.”

“F-fuck please be bad Mommy.” Natasha whined.

“No mommy wants to be bad to their baby…”

Natasha lets out a frustrated whine again, her hips bucking forward again as she chases the friction she was just denied. “B-but... Mommy... it feels so good…you’re so good…” she whimpers, her eyes filled with need and puppy-dog sadness. “Please... just a little more…”

You slowly unbutton your top, revealing your bra. Natasha’s eyes flick down to your chest, watching intently as you unhook the bra and let it fall to the floor. Your bare breasts come into view, you guide Natasha’s face to your chest, gently cupping the back of her head. Her mouth parts slightly, and you can feel her warm breath on your tits. “Be good and suck Mommy’s tits,” you whisper, your voice laced with desire.

Natasha like a good baby she is, eagerly obeys, pressing soft kisses to your breasts. She kisses and licks, her touch gentle and reverent. You can hear her breathing grow heavier, feel her body tensing as she gets more aroused.

“That's it, baby. Be so good for Mommy…”

Her mouth finds your nipples, and she begins to suck and lick enthusiastically. She moans against your skin, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. You can feel her hands gripping your waist tightly, her nails digging in slightly.

She continues to suck and lick your peaks, her cold glasses press against your warmth against the skin of your breasts, the temperature difference sending goosebumps across your flesh. You moan softly, your fingers tangling in her hair to keep her head in place as she paid attention to both of your tits.

After several minutes of shared attention on your tits, you guide Natasha's face back up to yours. You lean down and press a soft, passionate kiss to her lips finally settling back down to her lap feeling her hard once again.

Your hands gently stroking Natasha’s braided hair. You reach out and slowly move your hands towards her shorts, immediately feeling her hard cock through her boxers. Her eyes widened as he realized what you're doing. You then pulled out his cock spring free.

“Guess who’s being bad, hm?”

“Please…p-please mommy.”

You carefully shifted to position yourself on Natasha’s pointing cock. You guide her hands to your hips as you slowly lower yourself onto her. You can see the shock and pleasure on her face as you envelope her with your warm walls. “Y/N…” she stammers.

“That’s not my name baby.”

“Mommy, please!”

You bit your lower lip and began to move, taking her in and out of your warmth, Natasha’s head lolls back, her mouth opening in a silent 'O' of pleasure. Her hands on your hips tighten, her fingers digging in slightly. “It's...it's so tight, Mommy…you’re so…”

“Mhm, yeah?” You pant condescendingly, “Mommy’s what baby?”

“So good! So tight!” She cries.

“Oh yeah?”

You lean down, your breath hot against her ear. “That's because Mommy’s special hole is made just for my special baby. Only for you…” You punctuate each phrase with a slow thrust, taking her deeper.

Natasha’s breathing grows faster, her chest rising and falling rapidly against yours. Her hips buck upwards to meet your slow, languid movements. “Mommy...it...it feels…so good…” she moans softly, her voice barely a whisper. “I... I think I'm... I'm…”

“Are you good?” You asked, but the redhead didn't answer, her eyes shut closed behind her fogged glasses and was too focused on her pleasure and you loved it.

“Are you good, Natasha?” Now you calling her on her first name caught her attention.

“Y-yes…”

Your hands gripped her shoulders as you continued to ride her. “Then hold it, baby. If you're good you’re going to hold it until Mommy says you can come…” You increase the pace slightly, your own pleasure building as you feel him throb inside you. “That's it... just hold on…”

Her face scrunches up in concentration, her hands bruising your waist. “M-Mommy... it's...it's too much...I can't... I can't hold it…” she whines pitifully, his voice filled with need and desperation. “Please…”

“No, baby. You hold it. You can do it. Mommy knows you're strong…” You lean back further, grinding down onto her, your abdominal muscles flexing, “and you’re good, you can do it baby.”

Natasha lets out a high-pitched whine, her body trembling as she tries her best to obey. “I-I'm trying...Mommy...I'm trying to be good…” her body stiffens, her back arching slightly as she struggles to hold back.

You lean in close, your voice dropping to a low, soothing tone. “That's my baby... You're doing so well... just a little longer…”

Her face flushed with heat, her pupils dilating as she watched you with an agape mouth, riding her. Suddenly, her expression turns defiant.

“Fuck...maybe I wanna be bad,” she grips your hips tightly and begins to thrust up into you, ignoring your command. “Fuck, mommy I wanna be bad.”

You’re taken aback by her sudden defiance, your eyes widening in surprise. “Natasha... baby, no...oh! ” Your voice trails off as she continues to thrust into you deliciously.

“Shit baby, fuck you’re so strong!”

So now, it's you who's trying to hold back, but Natasha’s sudden burst of strength is overwhelming. She's too powerful, too determined. Her thrusts become brutal, pounding into you with relentless intensity. You're trapped, pinned on top of her dominant form, unable to escape the force of her desires.

“Natty…baby stop…”

“I can't stop, Mommy…” she moans, her body tensing as she reaches her limit. “I... I'm gonna...I'm gonna come...I'm gonna come inside you…” she throws her head towards your shoulder, her movements become erratic, her hips bucking wildly as she empties himself into you. You're left shocked, gasping, trapped on top of her as she finds her release.

“Turn around...get on your hands and knees…”

“Wha—”

Your shocked expression quickly turns into one of pleasure as Natasha’s dominant commands wash over you. You scramble to obey, turning around and dropping to your hands and knees. Natasha stands up, her hands gripping your hips as she holds you in place. “Good...my good girl... Now stay like that…”

As Natasha starts to move behind you, you feel a surge of emotion. Shock, awe, and a touch of humiliation mix together. You never imagined that she would take control like this, especially after she’d seem like the one to submit. Now, the roles are reversed, and you’re the one being taken.

Natasha's grip tightens around your hips as he begins to thrust into you from behind. The angle is different, deeper, and you can't help but let out a moan. “You like that, hm, Mommy?” she growls.

“You like being on the other end, don't you?” she thrusts deep, her hips slapping against your ass. “Answer me…” her hand reaches around, finding your most intimate spot. “Answer me or I'll stop…” she teases you mercilessly.

“Yesyesyes!”

Natasha suddenly pulls out, lifting you up and carrying you to the edge of the bed. She sits down, easily manhandling you over her lap. Your back rests against her chest as her hands held your thighs, keeping your legs wide open as she slides her cock back into your wetness.

She spreads your thighs wider, her knees pushing yours apart as she continues to pound into you. Her touch is unyielding, her rhythm punishing.

“Hold your thigh…” she took your hand and put it to keep your thigh up. “Hold...hold the other...hold both…” she commands, her breath hot against your neck. You comply, your hands gripping your thighs tightly as her strong hand comes down to string your throbbing clit.

“Oh God...Oh God, Natasha...Please... I can't...I can't take it anymore…” Your cries fill the room, your tits bouncing as she pounded inside you.

You threw your head back against Natasha's shoulder, exhausted from your struggles. She reaches up, her hand cupping your jaw and turning your head. Her mouth descends on yours, swallowing your moans. Her tongue slips past your lips, dueling with yours as she continues to pound into you.

You try to wiggle away from her relentless touch, but a strong hand wraps around one of your thighs, pulling you back. “Oh, no you don't…” Natasha's voice breathed in your ear, her hold was strong to keep your legs apart.

Her fingers never stop their relentless strumming on your clit and her cock pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Come for me, mama…” she whispers in your ear, her voice dark and commanding. “Squirt all over my cock…”

Her words send you over the edge. With a loud cry, you laid your head on her shoulder, your body convulsing as you came undone. You squirt all over her, your juices gushing out as she continues to thrust into you.

“That's it…” Natasha's own release hits her hard. With a final, brutal thrust, she buries herself deep inside you, her body shuddering as she comes. Her hot seed fills you up, spilling out around her still-pulsating cock. You can feel her hot cum mixing with your own fluids, the combined liquid slowly leaking out of you. You can't help but moan at the sensation, your body continuing to spasm when her cock bumped accidentally in your clit.

“You’re so good for me, mama.”

⧗

You wake up to the sound of birds chirping outside. Blinking your eyes open, you find yourself alone in Natasha’s bed. You stretch, wincing slightly at the soreness between your thighs. A quick glance around the room reveals no sign of the girl.

You sit up, rubbing your temples as a wave of guilt and self-disgust washes over you. Post nut clarity hits hard.

“How could I have been so stupid?” You chide yourself, your voice barely a whisper. “I drove four hours just to...to sleep with a stranger on a dating app.”

“Am I really that desperate for a good fuck?” you whisper harshly to yourself.

Panicked, you start searching for your clothes, but they're nowhere to be found. “Where are my clothes?” You mutter, your heart pounding in your chest. Your gaze falls on a large, plain shirt draped over a chair. You grab the shirt, smiling as you read what was printed on it

“The physics is theoretical but the fun is real.”

You quickly slip it on, the fabric swallowing you whole. It reaches down to your mid-thighs, the hem fluttering around your bare legs. You realize with a blush that you're not wearing anything else—just the shirt and your damp underwear.

You decide to take in the surroundings of the woman you slept with last night, it wouldn't be bad wouldn't it? The first thing you notice is how clean and organized Natasha's room is. The walls are adorned with intricate diagrams of solar systems, planets, and stars, each one meticulously labeled and colored. You spot a few custom-made lamps on the desk and shelves, their shapes resembling various celestial bodies that you thought she made herself.

The lamps cast a soft, warm light over the room, their glow mimicking that of distant stars. You see a bookshelf crammed with books on astronomy, physics, and electronics. A large whiteboard takes up one wall, covered in complex mathematical equations and diagrams.

Your gaze drifts downward, landing on a piece of paper on the floor. So you bend down to pick up the paper, smoothing it out on the table as you sit down. At first glance, it appears to be an application of some sort. Your eyes scan the page, taking in the details of information you see.

“Natasha...Alianovna Romanoff,” you smiled as her name tumbled out of your lips. “Beautiful name to moan to...”

“December 3,” you frowned, tilting your head slowly as you read the detail, “2002…” you felt your heart dropped to your stomach.

“22 years old?”

A sound of footsteps and a humming echo from outside the room made you alarmed. Panicked, you gripped the paper and rush towards the door, slipping out just as it creaks open. And there you saw Natasha who was cooking some breakfast.

She looks up as you exited her room, her eyes widening briefly as she takes in your appearance. Your hair was a mess and you're wearing her clothes—her favorite one, the oversized t-shirt clings to the curves of your breasts, revealing the outline of your hardened nipples. The hem barely reaches mid-thigh, revealing your bare legs—and your nude colored panties she herself took off last night.

You march towards her, barefoot, brandishing the application paper like a sword.

“You're 22?!”

“Wha—”

“Your bio says you're 28!”

“Wha—I-I didn't kno—”

“That's bullshit!”

“And I was like...God! I slept with someone who's the same age as my sons.” You mimic the same line you said as you recall the events of what happened weeks ago, sharing every detail with Thena, your best friend. She was in fact, the one who told you to try going on a dating app.

“At least you had a good fuck,” Your eyes widened with Thena's vulgar words but you hesitate for a moment before nodding, your face burning with embarrassment. Because, well, it's true...

“Yeah...it was…” You trail off, unable to meet her gaze.

“Good? Good?” Thena asks pulling the words out of you as she noticed you being hesitant.

“She was so gentle at first, almost shy...let me lead her but once she got going...whew!” You whistled softly, fanning yourself as you laughed.

“And you ghosted her…” You pause mid-laugh at your best friend's reply, you felt like she just slapped the reality across your face.

“I...” you raised your brows, palming your chest as you looked at her, “I didn't, okay, I just left. What would you expect me to do? She lied.” You defend, leaning down to your chair as you glance at your best friend who was eyeing you like she knows all your secrets. And she does though, but not this one.

“She's young, Thena,” you reason, “She'll move on. She'll meet someone new.” You dismiss the idea of Natasha being hurt by your not so sudden disappearance with a wave of your hand. “It's not like we had any emotional attachment or anything. Hell, maybe I am the third girl she had in her apartment that week. Who knows?” You chuckled humorlessly. You really wished you weren't.

“Hm, just fucking.”

“Exactly, just fucking,” you say, mirroring Thena's crude language. “We both needed that at the moment.” You nod confidently, convinced that's all it was—a simple physical need fulfilled, nothing more. But as you continue to talk, a small, secret part of you whispers that it was more than just a physical need. You felt a connection, a spark, something that went beyond the surface level. But you quickly silence that voice, deciding to keep your true feelings buried deep inside because there is no chance on getting back, you had deleted the app so there is no more way to contact her. But going to her place is a different conversation and there is no way in hell you're going to do that.

Sighing heavily, you rub your temples, trying to ward off the sudden headache that's formed.

“Besides, what would my sons think if they knew I was dating someone their age?” you muse aloud, looking at Thena with concern and embarrassment. “They'd probably be disgusted, Thee…I swear…”

“At least you're not robbing the cradle or y'know. It's not like she's underage or anything.”

“Okay, enough, stop justifying her age. She still lied, which I didn't like. I wouldn’t date someone who's the same age as my son and someone who’s younger, period.” You said with a finality making your best friend laugh at your now serious face, she’s really not used to you being like that.

“Gosh, they wouldn't even let me date anyone,” you sighed, slumping back in your chair dramatically, making Thena laugh even harder.

“You’ve got some overprotective babies there.” Thena chuckles between giggles.

You can't help but agree with your best friend, nodding your head in agreement. “Yeah, they are pretty overprotective. I swear, sometimes I think they forget I'm an adult too.” You smiled, remembering that your two sweet boys are coming home today for summer break.

⧗

You are excited and all jumpy thinking that every sound you hear is a knock on a door.

You started preparing for their visit, tidying up your home and making sure everything was just right and in place, especially with their bedrooms. The clock ticked by, and soon enough, finally, you heard a real knock towards the door.

With a quick glance in the mirror to make sure you looked presentable, you went to the door to open it. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves, and then swung the door open.

There they both stood, a cocky smile on their face as they greeted you with a casual “Hey, Mom.”

“Hello my babies.” You almost cried on the spot seeing your grown sons.

“Whatchu cookin’ mama?” your eldest, Mark asked, kissing your forehead before entering the house.

“Your favorite beefy creamy mushroom, baby!” You shout.

“I love you so much, ‘ma!”

Before you could even reply, an arm wrapped around you in a tight embrace, and before you knew it, you were being lifted off the ground, your feet dangling in the air. You squirmed playfully, laughing as you tried to put your weight back down.

“Put me down, you little devil!” You scolded lightheartedly, playfully pushing against your son’s broad shoulders, though secretly enjoying the sweet gesture of your youngest.

As he finally set you down gently, a wide grin still plastered on his face, he let out a sigh and looked at you affectionately.

“I missed you so much, mom.”

“I missed you too, Tony.” You cupped his cheek and pestered him with so many kisses making him giggle.

“I...uhh mama, I hope you wouldn’t mind, I am sorry for telling this to you right now. But I brought a friend over, if that’s fine?” you placed your hands on his shoulders, as he looked at you with his usual puppy-dog eyes, “I owe her big time, I was the reason she’s heartbroken and why her favorite shirt is stolen.”

“Yeah, yeah...” you nodded encouragingly to assure him that it's okay to have some friend over, and the mention of a stolen shirt made you laugh—it was silly you thought.

“Yeah, sure baby…you ca—” you trailed off, your world stopping as you saw the friend your son brought over, standing just few steps behind him.

The friend your son brought over was none other than the person who haunted your dreams every night, the same woman you shared a night with many weeks ago that gave you the most earth-shattering orgasm that not even their father could give.

And you found her looking back at you, her gaze trailing down the shirt you’re wearing that was in fact hers.

“Mom, this is Natasha.”

[witchwyfe]

karma is my boyfriend - rc

pairing - (non-canon) Rafe Cameron x female reader

précis - a lil princess treatment from rafe :)

content/warnings - mentions of alcohol/alcohol consumption, fluff,

word count - 673

"Rafe, Rafe!?" You're spinning around, looking for your boyfriend until suddenly you whirl around and bump into a broad chest.

"Hey!" You gasp, until you look up and see his face. "Oh! Hi baby!" You coo, reaching up to cup his cheeks. 

"Hi sweet girl." He smiles, running his thumb along your cheekbone. 

You greet him happily, leaning in to his touch. "Did you get my drink?" You wonder, suddenly remembering why he left you in the first place.

"Hmm, sure did." He nods, handing you an ice water rather than the vodka redbull you'd requested.

You don't seem to notice though, slipping the paper straw into your mouth and slurping it down happily.

"We gonna dance s'more?" You wonder, straw between your lips.

"We can't, baby," He says, smoothing a hand down the back of your head. "They're closing."

"Nooo!" You groan, throwing your head back.

"I know, I know," He soothes. "But we can go home and get some snacks and watch a show...?" He offers.

"Okay!" You're smiling once again, digging your fingers into his tee shirt.

"Finish your drink and we'll go home, kay?" 

You nod, bypassing the straw and tipping the rest of the water into your mouth, before handing your empty glass to Rafe.

You're not even that drunk, really just a little past tipsy but you're fine with letting Rafe handle everything and take care of you.

Suddenly his jacket is being draped over your shoulders, coupled with a soft kiss to the top of your head. 

"Thank you." You simper. You slide your arms into the sleeves and blink up at your boyfriend.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

You lead him out of the bar, arms shoved into the pockets of his jacket, while he has your little purse slung over his shoulder, your phone, his phone, and the keys all in one hand.

"How much farther?" You ask a few moments later, looking back at him.

"Not too much," He frowns looking out at the street. When the two of you arrived at the club, hours before, he'd had to park his car somewhat far due to the lack of space. "Your feet hurting, baby?"

You shrug a shoulder. "Yeah." You nod. "But it's just till the car then I'll take my shoes off."

"C'mere," He says, shoving both of your phones into his pocket.

"What?" You wonder, turning to give him a coy smile.

Your sweet boyfriend kneels down on the dirty sidewalk, taking your ankle into his hands so he can unbuckle your heel. You're flustered beyond words, heat rising on your cheeks while Rafe's rough palm softly works your foot out of your strappy shoe. 

"Stand on my foot babe, so I can take your other shoe off." He says, running his hand up your calf. 

Once both of your heels are dangling from his hand, he scoops you into his arms, bridal style.

"Are you sure, Rafe?" You wonder softly. "I feel bad, you don't--"

"You have nothing to feel bad about." He assures, lips at your temple. "Just let me take you to the car, okay gorgeous?"

"Okay." You hum happily, relaxing in his hold.

Your arms are sling around your neck and you have easy access to his neck if you strain a little--and you do--at least five times on the way to the car, so you can kiss his neck.

He pretends like he's not flustered by it, but you can see the rosy glow of his cheeks from the street lamps, the harsh light making him appear ethereal and you have to shut your eyes for a second to remember he's real.

You’re still in a fond trance when he uses one hand to open the car door and gently deposit you into the passenger seat. He buckles your seatbelt and tugs on it, before pressing a kiss to your temple. 

“Love you,” You croon, leaning back against the seat to look at him. 

“Love you so much more.” He promises. “C’mere angel, gimme a kiss.”

© witchwyfe 2024. absolutely no reposting, translating, or modifying, even with credit.

[astonmartinii]

false start | lewis hamilton social media au

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem swimmer reader

some people are getting a bit too ahead of themselves

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

.・゜゜・ part of the aston martini summer olympics ・゜゜・．

espn

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, lillyking and 509,455 others

tagged: yourusername & lewishamilton

espn: the 2024 paris olympics kick off tomorrow and we'll be keeping a close eye on the pool. and despite being one of the biggest names in the sport and the fiance of seven-time f1 world champion lewis hamilton, we don't predict to see y/n y/ln on the podium this summer.

view all comments

user1: when will y'all learn?

user2: i swear they did this back in 2021, saying she wasn't good enough any more and then BAM she won double gold and they were suspiciously quiet after

user3: i hope she dunks on their heads again

charles_leclerc: STOP UNDERRATING HER I SWEAR TO FUCK

user4: bro hasn't even started as lewis' teammate and he's already ready to throw down for y/n

charles_leclerc: i have been a fan of the queen since before i even started in f1 - no one disrespects her in front of me

user5: espn better be shaking in their boots after that

lewishamilton: 😐

user6: the king has spoken

user7: it's an emoji babe

user8: real lewis fans know that this is worth a thousand words

user9: the picture with the double gold is going to hit like crack i fear

user10: best believe i know that they'll tag espn just to be messy

user11: i'm sat. i'm so sat. the cinema workers have told me she doesn't compete for a couple days but i'm simply so sat

yourusername: ⏳

user12: OKAY SLAY

user13: i need these golds like i need air

user14: okay queen i need you to run back the celebration from last olympics

user15: time to become an honourary aussie for a couple weeks to support y/n

user16: LET'S FUCKING GO KANGAROOS

user17: run me my passport australia

user18: when will lewis get his australian citizenship

lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell63, charles_leclerc and 1,459,833 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: go get em'

view all comments

user22: gIVE ME ONE CHANCE PLEASE GOD PLEASE

user23: sorry to everyone else at the games, but the hottest couple has arrived

user24: tiktok girls PSA: if i don't have ten alchemy edits of them on my desk by tomorrow morning THERE WILL BE ISSUES

yourusername: for you sir, anything

yourusername: ugh your ✨ title ✨ is so hot

lewishamilton: let's win and then put it to good use 😉

landnorris: do you people mind?

yourusername: why are you always in our business? don't you have your own little guppy to follow around in paris?

lewishamilton: he's just lonely? or not? i can't keep up with his relationship drama

landonorris: EXCUSE ME?

yourusername: you're excused? we've been together for like eight years we aren't used to whatever drama you've gotten yourself into

lewishamilton: eight years, six months and 237 days :P

user25: first espn and now lando? they're not holding back this summer

user26: fucking around and finding out is what summer 2024 is all about

georgerussell63: good luck y/n !!!

yourusername: thank you georgie :)

georgerussell63: and i checked, i don't think there's any gb swimmers in your events (other than the relays) so you'll have my full support

yourusername: thanks?

lewishamilton: he's a little confused but he's got the spirit

user27: i need y/n to win and come to the paddock with her medal for zandvoort

user28: i am seeing it and i need it to happen

olympics

liked by lewishamilton, pierregasly and 893,209 others

tagged: yourusername

olympics: never in doubt, y/n y/ln takes gold in the 100m backstroke final!

view all comments

user29: RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

user30: suck on that espn

user31: espn admin come outside rn please i jUST WANNA TALK

lewishamilton: @espn KEEP MY (soon to be) WIFE'S NAME OUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH

yourusername: that was so hot

lewishamilton: you wiping the floor with the whole pool was so hot

lewishamilton: but then again you're hot doing literally anything

yourusername: says you mr model

lewishamilton: i got a few things i wanna model for you ...

yourusername: is it my gold medal and nothing else ?

lewishamilton: how did you know ???

user32: so winning a gold medal really does make you horny on main

user33: some of us lived through them with no PR managers, this is tame

user34: they're one couple where it really wouldn't surprise me if something got leaked

yourusername: can confirm it tastes as sweet as it did in tokyo

oscarpiastri: could you hear me cheering? i was so loud :)

yourusername: funnily enough, no

oscarpiastri: oh :(

yourusername: but i felt it in my spirit!

oscarpiastri: good :) because i think i have slightly deafened your husband 🤷‍♂️

lewishamilton: my ears are still ringing but i'll take it because you were supporting y/n

yourusername: awwww you cuties

user35: yall saying that kimi antonelli is lewis' grid kid but it's clearly oscar

user36: if i watched lewis put yellow and green glitter on oscar's face on live tv it's not a conversation to start with

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, jensonbutton and 1,459,783 others

tagged: olympics & lewishamilton

yourusername: gold in both 100m and 200m backstroke is more than i could've ever dreamed coming into these games, thank you to my family, friends and wonderful fiance for their support. and to the others, you know who you are, be careful on all those false starts you keep making ;)

view all comments

user38: where are you ? LET'S BE HAVING YOU !!!

user39: her winning the golds regardless isn't enough i need a gun

espn: ... i'm sorry?

lewishamilton: YOU SHOULD BE

espn: sir, i am just an intern who posts what i am given

yourusername: well now you're making me feel bad

espn: i can give you my boss' email?

lewishamilton: YES PLEASE LET ME AT EM

user40: bullying works?

lewishamilton: i'm so so so so so so proud and so so so glad that everything lined up for me to be there and witness your excellence in person 🙇🏾

yourusername: i love you so much and couldn't have done it without you, all those facetime dates and missed anniversaries are worth it in the end

yourusername: although i am looking forward to following you around the world again for a bit

user41: thank fuck you're not retiring ????

yourusername: who said that ??? @espn was it you again??

espn: not this time i swear!

yourusername: i can confirm that i am not retiring, us terrorising all the youngsters in our sport is kind of our whole bit

lewishamilton: although some people could learn to walk away - cough @fernandoalo_oficial

yourusername: really?

lewishamilton: beef waits for no one

fernandoalo_oficial: well i personally was cheering on y/n, you can choke

user42: how does y/n look so good even after racing?

yourusername: getting laid well and often 👍🏼

lewishamilton: you're welcome

yourusername: i love you 🥰

lewishamilton: i love you more

fin.

note: hope you guys enjoyed!! swimming is always my favourite olympic sport (i also swam for ten years so that's probably why lol)

[5sospenguinqueen]

Take A Break - Toto Wolff x Wife! Reader

Summary: Toto has been pushing himself too hard trying to get the upgrades sorted. As his concerned wife, you plan a surprise visit.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff. Bad writing

Requested: Yes by Anon (Hope I did this justice)

2024 season. There's a little blurb halfway through as well.

F1 Masterlist

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

mercedesamgf1 just posted

liked by ynwolff_official, lewishamilton and others

mercedesamgf1 boss man hard at work 

1,198 comments

ynwolff_official you better be looking after him

→ mercedesamgf1 yes, ma’am. we’re doing our best 

→ ynwolff_official tell him if he doesn’t stop working late, he’ll be in trouble when he comes home 

→ mercedesamgf1 stop making the admin team threaten me, schatz. they keep coming into my office shaking and you’ll get me into trouble with hr - toto 

user1 tell him to make an insta 

georgerussell63 he looks like a sith lord

→ ynwolff_official i think you mean, very handsome

→ georgerussell63 i’m not going to say that about my boss

→ alex_albon why not? you were telling me the other day that you think he looks much better in the white shirt than the black zip up 

user2 anyone else think he looks tired lately?

→ user2 he’s been working extra hard to get the upgrades ready, i’m guessing 

→ user3 plus wifey and jack haven’t been able to make a race in a while so he’s probably missing them after that triple header

user4 george won’t be getting those upgrades once yn tells toto that he wouldn’t admit he was handsome

→ mickschumacher i’ve already told 

→ georgerussell63 betrayal

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

Strolling through the Hungaroring paddock, you kept a tight hold of your son’s hand. Bustling bodies brushed past, paying the the pair of you no heed, which worked well with your surprise.

Over the past few weeks, Toto had been working tirelessly to ensure the upgrades were ready and working in time for the Hungarian Grand Prix, albeit to the detriment of his own health. He’d been sleeping less, running himself ragged to ensure Mercedes didn’t remain fourth in the constructors. After winning at Red Bull Ring and Silverstone, he knew the potential was there. All he had to do was unlock it. But that had meant shorter calls with his wife and son, fewer responses to messages and a growing distance that he hated feeling during the season. And so, arranging a surprise visit during race weekend had been the most obvious solution.

Mercedes hat sat atop his dark hair, Jack babbled about everything he could see as the tall form of George Russell guided you towards the garage. 

“Hello, stranger.” Lewis’ voice met your ears when he caught sight of you. “Toto didn’t tell me you were coming. What’s up, little man?” 

George vanished into the back of the garage, searching for the Team Principal. Leaning over to the Brit, you pressed a kiss to the cheek of the 7x WDC. Lewis gave your shoulders a squeeze before pulling Jack up into his arms, whisking him over to where the W15 was being polished. 

“George, this better be important. I was in the middle of an analysis report-.” A disgruntled Austrian accent filled the garage, bringing a smile to your face. You could picture the deep frown twisting his handsome’s features without even turning to see it.

“Liebe?” 

The silver arrows watched the tension seep out of their Team Principal’s face as he took in the appearance of his wife. Striding across the garage floor, he pulled you in for a tight hug, and pressed a chaste kiss to the side of your head. Aware of the eyes on you both, he had to refrain from pressing his lips to yours. Denying you both the deep kiss you truly desired.

“Surprise,” you whispered, slipping your arm around his waist. Your hand automatically rubbing soothing circles against his hip. 

“I’m so happy you’re here,” he murmured into your hair, inhaling the familiar scent of home. 

“You sounded like you needed us.”

“I always need you.”

“Well, then, let’s go rescue your son from Lewis.”

Holed up in Toto’s office, the Wolff family basked in their first moment of family time since over a month. Toto had ordered everyone to leave them alone until qualifying was due to start or somebody was dying. Thankfully, the team listened and so he spent the past hour listening to his son tell him about school and watching Lewis win a race on telly.

Fussing over the amount of coffee cups in the waste bin, you turned to lecture your husband on his inability to get enough rest but paused, mouth open. Curled up on the deep couch pushed against the wall, Jack was snuggled into his father’s lap. His iPad had fallen to the side, and soft snores escaped from his mouth. Glasses askew, Toto’s chin rested on his son’s head, eyes closed tight. Father and son, exhausted from the excitement of their day.

Taking a quick picture on your phone, you smiled at the sight of your family. Reaching into Jack’s backpack, you pulled out his blanket, draping it over your favourite boys.

“Ich liebe dich,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads.

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

mercedesamgf1 just posted

liked by georgerussell63, mickschumacher and others

mercedesamgf1 our favourite family 🐺

1,554 comments 

georgerussell63 admin, you used the same quote for a photo of toto with me, lew and mick the other week?

→ mercedesamgf1 we were paid to do that 

→ alex_albon great now he’s crying 

→ landonorris ha! at least our admin love us more than zak

→ mclaren don’t tell on us! 

mercedesamgf1 inside scoop; toto asked us to print out the photo of yn and jack to put in his office 

mickschumacher does this mean i can take the little wolff karting?

→ ynwolff_official only if you promise to come for dinner

→ georgerussell63 and me? 

→ user5 poor toto can’t escape his drivers even during his time off because his wife adopted them all 

lewishamilton nice to see you and jack in the paddock again, yn

→ ynwolff_official and you, lew. hopefully we can attend a few more now that the summer holidays are here 

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

ynwolff_official just posted

liked by valterribottas, mercedesamgf1 and others

ynwolff_official my favourite part of summer break is the view 

1,003 comments 

mercedesamgf1 tell boss man to bring that smile back with him 

→ ynwolff_official don’t worry. i’ll be sending him back to work extra happy 

→ lewishamilton yn, love, this sounds less than family friendly 

→ ynwolff_official oops 

user6 oh she’s FEEDING us 

user7 has george joined you for a sleepover yet

→ ynwolff_official of course. he’s like the son i didn’t ask for 

→ georgerussell63 but you love anyway?

→ user8 silence speaks volumes 

user9 yn wolff thirst trapping her husband was not on my 2024 bingo 

→ user10 silly season is extra silly this year so yn obvi thought she would participate 

→ user11 and we love her for it

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

Requests for F1 smau's are open. You can see who I write for on my masterlist :)

[mactavishsgfandwife]

Simon "Ghost" Riley and Your New Cat 🌷

simon having beef with a stray cat you brought home silly little idea i had no content warnings, just cute fluff, female reader :3 not proofread!

i just realised the cat’s name changes half way through 😭 i’ve fixed it now - 04/11/2024

"What the hell is tha’?" he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared in disbelief at the little black kitten in your lap.

"I found him. He’s called Lettuce," you grin, cuddling the cat to your chest. You’re well aware that lettuce is a stupid name for a cat, but it just seemed right at the time. The kitten was tiny, and had seemed very weak when you’d discovered him shivering in a box outside your apartment block. Now, he seemed a lot more comfortable, making a little home for himself on your sweater. He was so small - he literally fit in the palm of your hand - but his frizzy black hair stuck out at every angle so that he looked less like a kitten and more like a wiry pompom.

"Love," Simon laughed, rubbing his face with a sigh, "Lettuce looks like a flea. Where the hell di’you find ‘im?"

"Oi, he does not! Well, maybe a bit. I found him in a box. He was meowing at me, he looked so cold…" you stroke the kitten’s cheek with your thumb as you he meows up at you.

"You can’t keep him, he might have diseases. You should give him to a pet shelter." Your boyfriend wasn’t being harsh, he was just worried about you - he didn’t want your little heart breaking because you’d got all attached to a poorly little kitten who might not last the week. But it didn’t come off like that.

"Wh… what..?" you frown, cupping the kitty in your hands to protect it.

"I’ll drive you to the shelter tomorrow, okay?"

"What? Si, no!"

"Baby…" he sighs, trying not to upset you "you can’t just find a scruffy animal on the street and take it home."

"S’what I did with you ," you pout, pulling the same face at him as Lettuce pulls at your sweater sleeve as he paws at it.

"Look," he crosses his arms, about to explain to you the reasons why you two don’t have the space for a cat, nor the prior knowledge. What if the cat walks in on the two of you in bed? What if it bites you and his pretty girl gets hurt? What if you end up loving the cat more than Simon and it steals you away? But your pleading eyes and the tiny, stupid looking kitten chirping in your laps convinces him. If you really wanted anything, you know he’d get it for you, so he’ll let you have your silly kitten.

"Alright, fine. For now." He laughs, ruffling his hair.

"I love you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I love you!" you squeal, gently placing the cat down before jumping up with and wrapping your arms around your boyfriend. He rubs your back softly, watching the stupid fluffy ball on the sofa chirp for your attention. Just because he’s letting you have the cat doesn’t mean he won’t see it as his mortal enemy.

The next morning, after having gone out to buy cat food for you, Simon is sitting on the sofa, softly kissing your neck from behind. You’re sitting in his lap… completely ignoring his affection in favour of the kitty.

"Si, look! He can walk!" you grin, holding the kitten up so it looks like it’s standing on two feet.

"Mhm… cute…" Simon mumbles into the nape of your next, a strong hand wrapping around your waist to pull you into his chest. He is not watching the cat, he’s busy with you.

"I know right!" you ignore his advances still, gazing at your new pet with adoration, "I should make him a little hat, he’d look so sweet."

"Yeah, fuck, you’re so sweet…" Si keeps kissing you, moving between your neck and your shoulders, which are hidden inside his old tshirt.

"He’s so cute," you grin, stroking the back of the kitten’s head until it purrs, "I love him so much… he’s my baby."

That catches Simon off guard. He would never admit it to anyone, but he loves it when you call him your baby. He’s the only one you should be calling baby. This cat is stealing his girl. [gasp]

Si shoots the kitten a death stare.

"Oh yeah, he’s your baby?"

"Yeah, he’s the cutest…"

"Mhm. I’m sure," he pouts. When you’re not looking, he glares at the cat and points from his grey eyes to its little beady ones, like he’s trying to intimidate it.

A few days later, the two of you fall asleep together, with Simon spooning you and holding you close. But you forgot to shut the door. So your boyfriend is rudely awakened by a very small, scruffy kitten stomping on his chest.

"No, oi, get off of me," you can hear him grumbling sleepily as you start to stir, alongside the cute chirping of your kitty.

"Listen, Lettu- cat. Stupid name anyways. We can’t have you disturbing the Mrs, alright?"

You can hear him pause until he hears the kitten meow softly in response.

"Tha’s right, soldier. She’s my Mrs, not yours, and if you so much as try to change that, I will never let you see her again. My girl. Mine," he pouts.

The kitten meows again, as if he’s responding to Simon’s orders. You have to try your hardest not to giggle, biting your lip in the dark as you listen to your big, tough boyfriend have an argument with a little kitten.

"Alright, now leave the lady alone." You almost think you can hear him plant a kiss on the cat’s head before he sets it down at the side of the bed.

You’re away for the weekend, visiting family, without your boys (Simon and the kitten). :(

Simon’s fine, he’s a tough guy, he has no issue being alone - that is, until he’s poorly and he needs you to cuddle him and make him tea. But you’re not there, and talking to you over the phone only makes him feel worse.

So he resorts to laying in bed, in the shade, trying to nap. Poor boy feels too ill to do anything else (he has the man flu).

With the back of his hand over his forehead, one leg over the covers and one leg under, not quite sure whether he’s awake or asleep, he closes his eyes and frowns. A little black ball hops up onto his bed, waking him up a little.

It plods around in a little circle, looking around and exploring its new environment. When the fuzz creature spots Simon, he waddles over curiously, his little feet sinking into the soft duvet cover.

"Hey, cat," Simon smiles softly, watching the fluffy baby wander and get closer to his face. It looks up into his eyes, chirping, and brushes its fur against his cheek before settling into the crook of his neck.

He chuckles, closing his eyes as the tiny guy curls into a ball against him. The rivalry isn’t quite over for Simon, but that funny looking kitty is a little piece of you, and he’s happy to have its affection.

When you come home, it’s to the two of them, cuddled up on your bed. Silently, you change into a t-shirt and slip into bed behind Simon, planting a little kiss on his cheek.

"Told you he was cute."

how i imagine your kitten 💗

i spent way longer on this than i thought i would but it’s so cute and i loved writing it! hope you enjoy lovieeees

[cosycafune]

JEALOUSY

small drabble. when sylus is jealous, he's really jealous. it's something that he won't let go, until he ruins you. he’ll drill into you that you’re his, no matter the consequences are. defining him is asking for deep, sensual trouble.

acts: mean sex, hate sex, extensive creampies, mating press, sadistic tendencies. masterlist.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

SYLUS is mad. Usually, it takes so much to provoke him, but seeing you ignore him, giggling with other men, eerily smitten, tore at him -- immensely. It left Sylus blowing up at home, indirectly. For some time, he'd avoid your intimate touch -- barely acknowledging your nude, teasing self.

Sylus would be huffing and puffing, calming himself down immensely at you being so immature. Even as his nose flared, his slender fingers squeezing he’s glass, you knew what was coming. Knew the moment Sylus set his angered eyes on you.

Rough, in the moment, hate sex.

But the moment your face dropped, finally understanding his daunting silence, you find yourself in the meanest mating press. A mating press that completely destroys your soppy cunt, leaving you crying, begging Sylus for more as he degraded you.

Soft praise, swirled with light degradation, would always find Sylus during intimacy. But with his jealousy blinding him, he'd pound into you until you're rendered almost useless. Fuck into you in ways he would usually hold back from, cumming endlessly inside of you. He wouldn't stop, filling your cunt in creative ways that he restricted himself from. Damn, he even convinced you to let him creampie you -- knowing you're ovulating.

Sylus just didn't care. When jealous, his sex drive is off the roof — whenever a man has the decency to almost cross the line. When it came to you, Sylus would pull all the stops, so seeing you discredit him, pushed him into punishing you harder. Even as every moan, grunt, plead and hum flooded the walls, he did not care. All he could focus on was filling you up in this mating press, buried into you the deepest he ever could. He's also a big man, so this position brought him peace.

This is the hardest Sylus have ever fucked you, letting each skin slap reign over the ambience. Not a speck of you held your sanity, teaching you to succumb to your place. Succumb to your role as his lover and to treat it with such respect. After all, Sylus is indispensable.

All those men hold nothing against him, as he's the one who has you within this despicable mating press.

do not copy, modify or claim any of my works as your own. all rights reserved; cosycafune. 2024.

[dreamescapeswriting]

So Whipped ~ BC

⤜WORD COUNT: 1.2K (Sorry its so short!<3)

⤜PAIRING: Chan x Fem!Reader x the boys? (platonic)

⤜GENRE: fluffy, falling asleep around the boys, the boys wanting to tease you but chan is being a cute protective boyfriend and steps in before they have the chance

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - July 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

The living room of the dorms was bathed in a soft, warm glow from the string lights draped around the windows, casting a cosy ambience over the scattered blankets and empty popcorn bowls. The credits of the final movie rolled silently on the TV screen. Still, the faint hum of the fridge and the occasional car passing by outside were the only sounds filling the quiet room. The boys stretched a little but Felix stayed perfectly still not wanting to move you yet. You were laid nestled on the oversized sectional, your head resting on Felix’s shoulder, your breathing slow and steady. 

"How did she even sleep through your screaming?" Jisung teased as he glanced over at the two of you. You'd fallen asleep somewhere in the middle of the sixth movie the 8 of you decided to watch, exhaustion finally taking over. Felix glanced down at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. Carefully, he adjusted the blanket to cover you a little better, making sure that you were as comfortable as possible before he slid out from under your grasp. 

Across the room, Chan stretched his arms above his head, letting out a yawn as he looked over at you. His perfect little girlfriend was already sound asleep, which meant getting you back to your shared apartment was going to be harder than ever since he wouldn't have the heart to move you.

  “Guess we wore her out,” he chuckled softly, trying not to disturb the serene moment. His eyes softened as he watched you snuggling into the blanket, letting out a soft whine as you realised the one you'd been cuddled up to was gone but it didn't wake you. 

Not that Chan blamed you, the two of you had been up until 4 that morning and then the guys had a full day planned of everything they wanted to do with their time off. Chan counted himself lucky he'd talked them out of dragging all eight of you down to the beach, if you had he couldn't guarantee you would have made it out of the car.

“Not surprising, considering we had a full day before this,” Hyunjin added, his voice a gentle murmur. He stood up from the floor, where he had been lounging and started to gather the empty snack bowls, Minho joining him in the task.

  “Should we wake her up?” Seungmin asked, looking over from where he was tidying up the mess of DVDs and Blu-rays they had pulled out earlier. Chan shook his head at him, there was no need to wake you up when you were sleeping so peacefully,

“Let her sleep,” Chan said quietly, his eyes never leaving your peaceful face, his hand outstretched a little as he ran his thumb along your cheek. 

“She looks so peaceful. Besides, it’s late. We can make her a bed here, she can take my room.” Seungmin nodded in agreement, already stacking pillows and pulling an extra blanket from the closet taking them through to Chan's old room. It wasn't as though the two of you had never shared that bedroom before but it had been a while since the two of you had squeezed into a single bed together. 

Hyunjin and Minho exchanged mischievous glances from the kitchen, the kind that only meant one thing: trouble. Hyunjin crept over to Minho, whispering, 

"What if we put whipped cream on her hand and tickle her nose? Classic prank." He said as he handed Minho the can of whipped cream, a devilish smirk taking over his face as he took the whipped cream into his grasp. 

"Or maybe draw on her face with a marker. Just a little moustache." Minho snickered, as he reached for a pen from the pot on the kitchen counter. 

“Good idea.” Hyunjin laughed from the kitchen making Chan turn around to see what they were talking about together. Minho was standing holding something behind his back with an all too innocent look on his face already letting Chan know he was onto something without even saying a word. 

After years of being the leader of their little group, you'd think the boys would know better than to try and hide something from the one man who knew them better than anyone else.

"What are you two planning?" He walked toward the kitchen door and they shook their heads, only making them seem more suspicious in his eyes. Before they could hide the items Chan darted behind them and took them from their hands, 

"No pranks tonight, guys." He chuckles, putting it all away and the two of them groan at him. 

"Aww, come on, Chan. Just a harmless little joke." Hyunjin pouted at him but Chan shook his head at them, his eyes serious. There was no way he was going to let them disturb you when you were asleep, besides, he didn't want you to wake up and regret spending the night because of some childish antics that they were going to be getting up to. 

"She’s exhausted. Let her sleep." He glanced over his shoulder to make sure you were still curled up in the chair. The others all cleaning up around you. Minho sighed dramatically, a smirk playing on his lips as he took the perfect chance to tease his leader. 

"Protective much? What’s the matter, Chris? Afraid she’ll be mad at you if she wakes up with a moustache?" He wriggles his eyebrows at Chan who merely crosses his arms, an amused yet warning glint in his eyes. As much as he loved playing pranks with the guys this was different, he didn't want anything to happen to you that might put you off coming back to spend time with the guys again,

"Very funny, Minho. But no. Just let her rest." Jisung, overhearing the exchange, couldn't resist chiming in. 

"Someone's whipped." He smirked, joining the others in the kitchen as Chan shot him the same look he'd been giving to Hyunjin and Minho but it only egged the boys on more.

"Yeah, Chan. You're going soft on us." Seungmin said with a giant grin on his face, reaching for the whipped cream Chan rolled his eyes, but it wasn't enough to hide the slight blush creeping up his cheeks at the thought of being whipped for you. 

“I’m not whipped. I just know she needs sleep. Unlike us.” He whines at them, the blush only deepening as the boys continue to snicker and stare over at him,

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, hyung.” Jeongin smirked, unable to stop the laugh that came out after he spoke.

Felix, who had been watching the whole exchange with quiet amusement, chuckled softly and shook his head at them. Felix knew how deeply in love with you Chan was and how he would never do anything to stop that.

“Leave him alone, guys. He’s just being a good boyfriend.” Chan cast Felix a grateful look, but his friends weren’t done teasing him yet. Hyunjin, with a playful grin, leaned over and whispered loudly, 

“Does that mean we should start calling you ‘whipped cream Chan’?” Only Chan shoved him softly and laughed, walking away as he went back over to check on your sleeping form. His fingers gently run along your skin and smiling to himself. Even with them trying to do stupid pranks on you there was no other place he would rather be than right here with all of you around him. All his favourite people are in one safe spot.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie

[azrielbrainrot]

In the Embrace of Darkness

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Kinktober 2024: Shadow Play

Description: Azriel lets his shadows play with you.

Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, shadow play (whatever that means), edging, bondage, hint of overstimulation, dum/sub undertones

Word Count: ~1,4k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Notes: I'm not actually sure if his shadows can do all of this in canon but here they do! Hope you enjoy!

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Azriel's shadows had always taken quite a liking to you, reflecting their singer's own desires, but as of late they started getting bolder, stretching out towards you as soon as you walked through the door, climbing up your legs every time Azriel looked away, even swirling over your body while he fucked you. He always leashed them when this happened, sending them on their way with a glare and a reprimand.

Your curiosity grew with each touch though. Knowing that their feelings were an extension of Azriel's, you wanted to see what they would do to you if he gave them the opportunity. The fact that the tips of Azriel's ears always turned red when you asked him what they said about you making it even worse. There wasn't much that embarrassed the shadowsinger, especially when it came to you.

That's how you ended up in this peculiar situation, with Azriel's cock fucking into you while his shadows roamed all over your body, covering you completely to the point that you couldn't see yourself under the darkness they created. He was the only one who could see through them, and judging by the look in his eyes the sight was absolutely sinful.

Some of his shadows had wrapped around your wrists and ankles like shackles, spreading you open on the bed, not letting you move at all. You could also feel them tightening themselves around your body like ropes, sitting around your thighs and your breasts, forming intricate patterns over your skin, decorating you for Azriel's eyes.

Others busied themselves with caressing your body, softly swirling around your skin, only letting you feel a ghost of a touch, goosebumps spreading wherever they moved. Most of them lay around your head, almost as if petting you as you moaned and whimpered under their friends' touches. If you didn't know better, you would think they were actually cooing at you, whispering praises in your ears just like Azriel does. It was truly a shame you couldn't hear them for yourself.

There were also the more sadist ones. The ones that wrapped around your neck, choking you softly every so often without warning, and kept pinching and playing with your nipples. You didn't really understand how some of them could become so corporeal, but it almost felt like someone was actually rolling your nipples in between their thumbs and biting at your sensitive skin. Well, not just anyone, but Azriel. They were mimicking the way they had seen him touch you so many times.

Some of them were also playing with your clit, only giving you enough stimulation to make you lose your mind. They wanted to hear you beg and cry for them, edging you so many times you didn't know if you should plead for them to stop or keep going, feeling pleasure like you never had before.

They weren't only torturing you though, some of them falling over Azriel's wrists as well, only allowing him to hold your hips so he could have enough leverage to keep thrusting into you slowly, unbearably so. You weren't exactly sure how but they were controlling Azriel's movements too, barely letting him thrust into you, just enough to keep you both on the edge and making him slow down everytime it seemed either of you would finally reach the peak.

You can't believe you had always thought his shadows were so adorable, these things were downright cruel. Just as the thought passes through your mind, one of them caresses your cheek softly. Somehow it felt condescending, mockingly soothing you even though it had no intentions of stopping or giving in to your broken pleas.

“Are you already regretting asking me to let them touch you?”

Azriel's voice came out in pants, obviously as affected by his shadow's little game as you were. His hazel eyes were entranced by the way your cunt swallowed his cock, begging to be filled, clenching his jaw as his shadows stopped him from fucking you properly and paint you with his cum like he wanted to, sweat sticking his curls to his forehead as his frustration grew. Even though you were getting the worst of it, seeing Azriel like this, so uncharacteristically out of control, was making you get some ideas of your own, maybe you could even get these little pests to help you.

“No,” you breathe out, a shiver running down your spine when you almost feel their approval at your words. “They've always been so good to me. They deserve to have their fun.”

“Flattery won't help you.”

He could see through you far too easily, sometimes you even wondered if he had some daemati powers of his own he was hiding from you. Unfortunately, this meant that his shadows saw through your little plan as well, going back to torturing you with renewed vigor, a whine escaping you.

You really didn't regret letting them touch you though. They were taking you and Azriel to new heights, and giving you a night you will never forget. The only problem is that his shadows are unable to understand the limitations of fae bodies. They didn't know when to stop, couldn't understand that if they kept going like this things would start turning painful instead of pleasurable. Luckily, Azriel was more than used to dealing with them.

“I didn't think they'd be so mean,” you manage between whimpers, blinking away the tears gathering on your eyes as you try to hold Azriel's gaze.

He just hums in agreement, eyes studying the way they were handling your body once more, glaring down at them when one crawls up his torso until it reaches his ear, leaving him a message before returning to your body.

“I think they're forgetting that I'm still their master,” Azriel says, a confident smirk falling over his lips as he breaks free of their confines, hands moving up your body, and leaning down over you, going deeper inside you, hitting spots his shadows hadn't allowed him to yet that night, the ones that took your breath away.

You let out a sigh of relief when he speeds up his thrusts too, finally fucking you like you needed him to. A crease forms between your brows the longer you watch him, confused at the way he was simply watching you, but did nothing to free you of his shadows' incessant touch.

“Aren't you going to tell them to let go of me?”

The spymaster just chuckles down at you and kisses you, finally tasting your lips after being restrained away from you for so long. His tongue explored your mouth, emptying your mind as he fucked you just how he knew you liked it, how he knew you couldn't resist. It's no surprise that you're cumming on his cock after only a few thrusts, the way his shadows had been touching and edging you up to that moment, and still were even under his body, not giving you a single chance.

Your orgasm is explosive, body trembling and shaking as he fucks you through it, trying to get away from the insane amount of pleasure but unable to because of his weight on you and his shadows holding you hostage. Even though the pleasure was overwhelming, you were crying in relief, finally being able to cum after being dangled with the possibility for hours on end.

It's only after a bit that you realize Azriel hadn't stopped moving and his cock was still hard inside you, fucking into your cunt with no signs of stopping. You open your eyes and look up at him, finding him watching you with a wicked smirk as some of his shadows return to his shoulders, singing in his ear obediently.

“Azriel, what-”

He shushes you with a chaste kiss, biting your lip as he pulls away, hands holding onto your thighs and wrapping them around his hips.

“You sounded so pretty when you were begging them to make you cum,” he starts, “Wanna hear what it sounds like when you're begging me to stop.”

[babyleostuff]

their s/o’s reaction to the "song that doesn't fit them" during caratland 24'

[🍇] choi seungcheol

he tried his best to gaslight you into thinking that he definitely wouldn't do the "smart" choreo (he needed time to mentally prep himself for all your teasing to come). while cheol was shaking his ass in front of thousands of people, you were barely holding on. screaming, crying, throwing up - that was the vibe. after the whole event ended, cheol tried his best to avoid you at the backstage, like there was no way he'd look you in the eye after that. the amount of fun you had: 100/10. the amount of fun your boyfriend had: -100000/10. (and let's just say that your fancam would be a staple to show around during family meetings).

[🍇] jeon wonwoo

definitely didn't tell you which song he'd perform beforehand, because with "queencard" being so girly pop there's no way you'd let wonwoo live afterwards. so, he just waited it out, shook his hips on stage and prayed you'd survive it. and, as he correctly predicted, you had a very bad case of cute aggression, being all "my baby boo, cutie pie, baby girl, let me bite you wonu, nom nom, etc etc." so he just kind of 😒❓and let you fuss over him for the next hour (wonwoo had a moment where he was seriously temped to throw your phone away after seeing you watch the fancam for the 172837 time)

[🍇] kim mingyu

you knew that no matter which song would be chosen for mingyu you wouldn't survive it, so you didn't really pray to find out his pick... and maybe you should have... because what you saw on 23.07.2024 was criminal. your boyfriend throwing it back and shaking ass on the gigantic screens was not on your 2024 bingo. to say that your jaw was on the floor was an understatement, and thank god it was relatively dark so no one could see that (tbh everyone were just focused on mingyu and his ass). also him smiling though all of it??? nah, you did not let it go for the rest of the night. literally. the man was this close 🤏🏼 to falling asleep and you just started to yap again about his ass.

[junislqve]

── 𝐇UGGING HIM TO SEE WHAT HE DOES

𝐒. how the members react to you randomly hugging them

( 𝒘ordcount ) 365 — pairings ot7 x reader content fluff petnames not proofread ⋆ 𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗨𝗘

🫧 erm this is like my last stock since 2 weeks ago.. i will write more trust .. PLS REBLOG if you enjoyed.

LEE HEESEUNG — would hug you back, his tall figure engulfing you in warmth, “what’s wrong, pretty?” he would whisper to you in the softest voice. would stay in the hug for so long not letting go until you let go.

PARK JONGSEONG — he’d hang his arms on your waist, pulling you closer. his hand caressing your hair and pressing your head to lay on his neck, “miss you too, baby” he would bury his head on your hair, closing his eyes and letting you hug him for however long.

SIM JAEYUN — his clingy nature loves physical touch, so he would hug you even tighter and continue talking to you about what he was doing an hour ago. his hands going under your shirt and rubbing smooth circles on your skin. “we should do this more often,” he chuckles softly, when you look up at him.

PARK SUNGHOON — would tap the back of your thigh with his hands so you’d jump and let him carry you as you hug him. “you could just tell me if you’re tired you know,” he jokes, but definitely loves you being clingy to him.

KIM SUNOO — hugs you back while patting your head. smiling to himself from how cute you were being currently, clinging to him like your life depended on him, “you’re so adorable” he would say, pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder.

YANG JUNGWON — would be surprised at first when you hug him out of nowhere, but his reflexs would start working as he lets you hug him tight. his hands going around to hold your hips, “cute” would slip out of his mouth as he watches you get more comfy burying your head more.

NISHIMURA RIKI — would act smug, you being clingy with him was rare after all. but then as you kept holding him in that way with your body visibly relaxing into him he got more flustered, “if this is your way of trying to get me to buy you boba, it’s working,” he mumbles, clearing his throat as he looks away, his hands pulling you closer by your neck. even if he begs to differ, his ears were tinted a shade of red.

© junislqve 2024. liking, commenting, and rebloging are appreciated.