#litterally i cannot get over that
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me going into the Wonka (2023) tag on ao3:
oh! cute, sick fic
sick fick
coffee shop au
87 chapter long 300,000 word smut fic with the most wild kinks ever
oh okay
cute age regression fic
#litterally i cannot get over that#i feel like even though it came out a decent amount of time ago#i do not think the wonka movie has came out long enough ago to have 300 000 words to be a normal amount of writing#ofc im not putting the writer down im actually really happy that people are invested in the movie enoguh to write that much#it was just really really shocking to see that many chapters#not even in like a slow burn#in a smut fic#like damn
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"Me and Bojan we are bothers *pause* and maybe something more" - Jere (x)
I am back with my Queerplatonic!Bojere propaganda >:3 💛💗🤍��🖤
Flat coloured versions under the line
#I told you I wasn't done with the nordic tour sketches >:3#I had to follow this train of thought since their relationship makes me so so happy#queerplatonic headcanons my beloved#jere pöyhönen#bojan cvjetićanin#still cannot get over that their favourite colours are litterally the flag x'D#joker out#käärijä#jo nordic tour#mine#my own art#(I can promise you I am still not done >:3 hopefully you will not grow tired of me x'D)
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do you want me to fucking go off on you? do you truly fucking want that mother?
#“oh you and your sister never listen to me and blah blah blah” we fucking do (or at the very least i do)#“you guys never help out” does me doing the litter and taking out the trash and on occasion hand washing the dishes mean#fucking nothing to you? does me sweeping the floor every once in a while because you chose to keep us in an area that is ALL SAND/DIRT ROAD#for whatever stupid ass reason also meaningless? does me doing my damn best to help out mean fucking nothing?#do you want me to kill my self. do you want to lose your eldest child to something YOU could have fucking prevented all because you can’t#stop being a bitch to him all the time? do you really fucking want that mom? because at this rate i am once again on the road to fucking#attempting it. i’m so god damn sick of how you treat me. the only time i can do anything i want is at night. i stay up super late playing#games with my friends because its the only time in the day when you aren’t bitching and whining for me to do something you don’t want to do#for the past several days i’ve been up until five in the damn morning just to do something that makes me happy.#you misgender me. you deadname me. you refuse to accept any aspect of my identity. you don’t treat me like a god damn person.#i have so many different ways i can consider attempting if i truly wanted to. the only thing keeping me alive is my friends. because they a#least show that they fucking care and actively want to do things with me. like group drawing or playing video games.#YOU on the other hand; mother; yell and get mad at me over the stupidest shit and never fucking apologize.#i cannot recall a singular time you’ve apologized for being a complete bitch to me over something so fucking unimportant.#and yet i’m expected to be completely fucking fine and happy all because you provide me with the bare fucking minimum.#”i clothe and feed and provide a place for you to live” THAT IS THE BARE FUCKING MINIMUM. sure you could argue over the fact i’m 18 and#should be out working somewhere. but you give me so few opportunities for going places and even considering getting a job or finally gettin#my driver’s license. plus i would rather fucking die than work any food service or customer service job. because i’d be going somewhere#where i’d mostly get talked down to or yelled and then come home and have the same shit done after working for hours and getting minimal#pay. i’d rather work on my own fucking terms with commissions than go into any job where i have to interact with others in public for any#reason. where i’d be treated just the same as at home. like someone who isn’t a person and doesn’t deserve anyone to be nice to them.#i constantly so desperately wish that maybe one day soon i’d find someone to be with romantically and that i could maybe live with them and#get out of this hell hole that i’m supposed to call home. to go somewhere and have my efforts appreciated. to go somewhere where i’d#actually fucking be loved. i shouldn’t have to wish so god damn hard for a better life all because my mother can’t fucking treat me like a#person with hopes and dreams and thoughts and feelings.#i’m ending this rant here before i get too angry and upset. see you all in maybe an hour.#suicide mention#ask to tag
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Most things an average social visit shoe would track in have nothing on the legendary puke of my late dog, my carpet has already been stained and tested in ways that dedicated shoeless coddling would never spare it from anyway, and i hate being shoeless, and my pets love to leave nasty surprises, like yea if youre Leaving Visible Muck behind maybe take em off but if its just like....idk. wipe ur feet on the mat in the garage and keep ur shoes on cos the dog is drooling in the kitchen and i dont want u having wet socks. god knows whats on the floor, not me.
do think its weird to conflate floor dirtiness with like...covid? if we learned anything from covid, its that you should be wearing a mask, and probably not be having large parties, especially indoors. I dont think shoes have a lot to do with covid specifically.
fascinated/horrified by this set of tweets…
#reblog#ftr this is about My House i am a Shoe Household#if i visit someone and they ask me to remove shoes i will oblige!! but you do have to ask sorry#god and like yea we vacuum and shit but 3 cats and a dog theres only so much we can do. youre gonna step on a piece of cat litter im sorry#the fur on the floor is incessant even w vacuuming#when ppl get huffy about hard floors i really give a bit of a sideeye sorry like carpet is one thing but the hard floor? really?#not to be a rude dismissve nasty bitch but its job is literally Floor. thats its whole deal. why am i gonna coddle it like its like....bed#??#not to mention! my stupid weak baby feet cannot handle shoelessness#shit hurts me. ill put up with it when visiting ppl who want shoes off in their house but god not in my own fucking home#@@@@@dad. either stop trying to coddle the floor or next time dont get a floor that needs this fucking coddling#i do agree w twitter op that its a bit silly to throw a large party and try to enforce shoelessness. like you can do that if u want but#especially if ur in the usa thats gonna be an uphill battle i think. maybe have that party elsewhere or like outside#im really not sure what shoes in house has to do with fucking? covid? if we learned anything from covid#its like. maybe dont be having large indoor parties. and wear a fucking mask. i dont think someone wearing their shoes in ur house is gonna#give u covid. i feel like most ppl who want the shoes off tho arent necessarily worried about like germs it seems to be usually about like#actual physical dirt/muck/grime/dust visible to the naked eye. which imo happens anyway no matter what especially w pets#but if thats how yall wanna live then go off. just ask me to take my shoes off if u have me over cos its not my default#and if you dont ask me theyre just going to stay on#im just not going to think about it#i do think its REALLY weird in like a Public Place tho?? sorry#like i used to go to a chiropractor and in the winter theyd make you take your shoes off?#i get that the winter muck is gross but it was Really Weird imo#someones house ok ig it i guess like you Live here. public/commercial building? weird
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baking a cake while working on my classwork, so glad i have 4 different boxes of vanilla cake mix but no fucking pasta
#can you tell that im tired of my groceries not being added to the shopping list?#random shit#personal shit#litteraly went to make alfredo and nope no pasta#sorry bf coming over for the night you get your early valentines cake in stead of dinner#i litterally cannot#i gave that bitch a whole list and told her to tell me what she cant get but noooooooo#she only got potatos for me#im so tried i want to move out but i cant afford that
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List of “sweet and intimate actions which make me go feral and have me folding like a folding chair” prompts
Character B carding their fingers through Character A’s hair and playing with the strands.
Character B peeling back the neck of Character A’s turtle neck sweater to trail gentle kisses down their neck. (This!! It is so hot, and it's everything I didn't know I needed until now, and I cannot stop thinking about it wlkfnlkwe)
Character B placing their arm around Character A’s waist while in public, resting their chin on Character A’s shoulder. “Hello,” they say in a teasing tone as Character A tries to grab ahold of their hand to keep it there but fails a few times before successfully doing so.
Leaning against each other while in public.
Spooning and back hugs.
Character B letting Character A rest their head on their chest; lets them listen to their heart beat.
Character B whispering sweet nothings into Character A’s ear.
Character B checking in on Character A to make sure they’re comfortable and okay with the way things are going; to make sure they’re not being too much. “You’re not,” Character A would reassure, repositioning themselves to get closer to Character B.
Just cuddles and snuggles in general.
Neck kisses.
Kisses littered all over the face. (!!! It's one thing to read about it and one thing to experience it wlejbfewljn)
Character B tucking Character A’s head under their chin while they’re cuddling.
Character B nuzzling their neck and breathing in Character A’s scent/fragrance, and commenting on how nice they smell.
Character B making sure Character A gets home safe by driving them home.
Character A telling Character B to message them when they get back home safe, and once Character B gets home, they follow through by sending a message to let Character A know they’ve gotten back home safe.
Taking naps together, from day till night, waking up every now and then to get more snuggles in.
That soft exhalation of adoring laughter leaving Character B’s mouth after kissing Character A (this shit had me folding so fucking hard it’s not even funny. I Am Weak).
That soft exhalation of laughter once again just because Character B is so content with having Character A in their presence, and Character A just basking in how cute that sound is and how happy it makes them.
Character B entangling their legs with Character A’s, pressing their bodies flush against each other’s, leaving little to no space between them. (It’s almost like they can’t get enough of Character A.)
Kissing so many times, to the point where they lose track of how many times they’ve kissed already.
Holding hands and lacing their fingers together while they’re cuddling.
Comparing hand sizes and giggling about it together.
Character B stroking Character A’s hair while they’re asleep. (Or uh, pretends to be asleep DJSKKSKDSK but it’s so FUCKING CUTE WHEN HE DID THAT IM GONNA SCREAM, me thinking moments like these only happen in Korean dramas or some shit anfkakfksk-)
The sweet little banters in between; Character B being all cheesy and Character A playfully deflecting their comments only for Character B to playfully push back with an “Is something wrong with that?” or “But I’m not lying.”
Falling asleep in each other’s arms, both not wanting to leave the bed for the entire day and wanting to stay comfortably snuggled up against each other instead.
Character B placing their hands on Character A’s shoulders, and Character A, with a grin on their face, gently grabs Character B’s hands and wraps their arms around their neck while leaning back into them. Character B reciprocates by hugging them closer to them.
The soft noises of content Character A makes when they snuggle closer to Character B, or when they want Character B to hold them closer to them, with Character B happily obliging.
Character B rubbing their cheek against Character A’s.
Character B trying to not wake Character A up because they look so comfortable when sleeping. (His words, not mine.)
Soft, repeated pecks on the lips, causing Character A to laugh/smile against Character B’s lips.
#long post#again these are things i’ve experienced w/ cat guy that day#personal once again#me as character A and him as character B#not me exposing myself like this on a public platform wlkjfnefn#but then again i've got no shame left in me after all the rambles and vents i've been doing sOOO...#writing prompts#otp prompts#prompts#writing scenarios#cat guy chronicles
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How I like thinking about human x werewolf breeding (with the human with the womb) is that the first few times trying to breed them it won't work, but the cum in them starts changing their biology in some way that makes it more amicable to being knocked up by a werewolf and also makes it so they release more eggs at once. So, like, after a week or whatever of being constantly creampied by their werewolf partner, their biology is changed to be made to be bred by werewolved instead of humans and they can get litters of 3+ without it completely destroying their body
This will have weird interactions if they try to get knocked up by a human, possibly being completely unable to since werewolves are so much more fertile that human sperm just doesn't work anymore, or they just still have that tendancy of multiple births
There is something soooooo dehumanizing about having your womb changed and altered to be the perfect breeding bitch for a monster. your body is theirs now, no longer yours. if it wasn't theirs you wouldn't be pregnant right now. it's really hot. you're nothing more than a werewolf-breeding toy now. getting fat and round with their pups because that's all your body is good for now. i
Imagine a werewolf pinning you down and pumping you full of their thick, warm cum over and over again, not even trying to get you pregnant, not yet at least, just stuffing you full of their cum so that their seed, vial and potent starts to infect you, change you.
You start going into heat too like a proper bitch. it starts to ache when you don't have cock inside of you, the pain only fading when their knot is deep inside of you and your pussy is full of cum.
And that need to get fucked full of werewolf cum doesn't leave after you're pregnant, you already have a litter but your body is still desperate for more, and you look so cute pregnant and round they can't deny you.
Why you would ever go back to fucking humans after you've snagged yourself a werewolf is beyond me, but if you did there's no way they would get you pregnant, it's just not going to happen now that your womb is accustomed to werewolf seed. which is again so hot and dehumanizing, you cannot get pregnant by your own kind anymore, you're more monster than human, completely owned by a werewolf.
#monster imagine#monster fucker#monster#monster boyfriend#teratophillia#werewolf x reader#werewolf#werewolves#werewolf boyfriend
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I feel like Al would be insufferable during his rut. Like, following you around constantly, clinging to you, and I feel like he play bites 😋
-🌠
Imagine Alastor…
• Experiencing a rut while the two of you are in the middle of getting to know each other, so he decides to distance himself from everybody, especially you. However, that proves to be a difficult task, overhearing you ask Husk if he thinks that he’s lost interest the one time he decides to come downstairs for something to eat.
• Struggling against the natural urge to take you right then and there as he stands next to you, trying to participate in Charlie’s little activities with the rest of the residents like normal. You sense that something is off about him, though, his body language too stiff. A shiver travels up his spine as you touch his arm in silent question.
• Unable to withhold himself from placing a hand on the small of your back, savoring your warmth underneath his touch. ‘Everything is quite alright with me,’ He says as he looks down at you, a subtle gasp tumbling from your lips at the feeling of a singular claw traveling down to play with the hem of your shirt, barely grazing your skin.
• Eventually pulling away from you, turning to listen in on whatever Charlie’s going on about, leaving you utterly confused. He continues to touch you throughout the day, however, seemingly always finding an excuse to handle you. Your shoulders, hips, waist—every part of you gets touched somehow, leaving you a blushing mess.
• Feigning innocence when you confront him about his unusual behavior before bed. ‘Look, I don’t mind you being physically affectionate,’ You start, earning a blink from him, ‘I’m just confused at the suddenness of it, that’s all.’ Instead of admitting that he’s in a rut, he decides to tell you that he overheard your conversation with Husk.
• Shaking his head, politely declining your apology. ‘There’s no need for one, darling,’ He hums, approaching you and reaching out to affectionately cradle your jaw. He dips his head to place a kiss on your cheek, but your sweet scent wafts into his nostrils and ignites the urges he spent so long fighting against.
• Immediately seizing your waist, clutching desperately at your shirt as he brings your bodies flush together. He sinks his teeth into your shoulder, too, his ears twitching at the moan he elicits from you. ‘You’re in a rut, aren’t you, Al?’ You ask, receiving no response. ‘Oh, you poor thing. Why don’t you let me help you?’
• Having you writhing and squirming underneath him in no time, your nails raking down his back as he plunges his aching cock inside of you at a ruthless pace. His face is buried in your neck, ears plastered against his head almost in shame over his lack of self-restraint, but you remind him that he cannot control his rut.
• Filling up your poor cunt for as long as his rut lasts, the primal instinct to breed you overwhelming him. All you can do is whine as he goes on about making you a mother, his cum leaking out of your sore hole with his thrusts, your neck and shoulders littered with bite-marks. While he feels guilty, he’s gratified that you’re finally his.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin alastor#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin alastor x you#alastor x reader#alastor x reader smut#alastor x you#alastor x you smut#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#alastor imagine#alastor smut#alastor#can you tell I’ve never written about ruts before#i’m sorry for my inexperience#also I feel like he wouldn’t be able to playfully bite you#not when he’s fighting against the urge to take you
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miguel o'hara stars in... 'DOMESTIC BLISS' (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)
a/n~ i physically cannot write a fic about my favs w/o getting horny mid way through sorry ;( i just want miguel to wrap me up and brush my hair and hold me tight---- NNNNNNNNNNH (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞
summary; miguel really likes your thighs…and how his cock looks between them.
wc; 700+
pairings; miguel o'hara x fem!reader
cw; SMUT!!, fluff, miguel and reader being cutesy, consensual somnophilia, thigh-fuckin, lil bit of blood, cummin inside, basically a breeding kink cause i said so, softdom! miguel, miguel being pussy whipped, sleepy sex, cumplay?, n e ways...not proofread - is one in the mornin
miguel loved nights like this. both of you wrapped up in warm, fluffy robes, and matching slippers - just enjoying each other’s company.
“babe, grab my headband for me please?”
walking over to where you were in the bathroom, he looks at your beautiful face through the mirror, sliding the cute headband on your head. “here, my love.” he trails a hand down your arm, wrapping it around your waist and he pulls you closer into him, your body pressed tightly against his rock solid chest. he doesn’t loosen his grip on you as you lean forward to wash your face, instead gripping your hips to hold you steady.
he still doesn’t let go of you when you walk over to your shared bed, tucking you under the covers and bringing you as close as he could to him. his face rested in the crook of your neck, lips pressing soft kisses against your warm skin. he really was the luckiest man in the world, blessed with this angel in front of him. his hands gently traced the curves of your body, the touch meant to be soothing but it was anything but for the throbbing he felt under the sheets.
he could hear you snoring quietly, the subtle rise and fall of your chest, the slenderness of your collarbones that were faintly littered with love bites. everything about you was just so perfect. especially those thighs of yours. those sexy, juicy, thighs - pressing against his. palming at your ass, he pulls you closer, if that was even possible - fingers moving to dip into your panti- oh, fuck, you weren’t wearing any.
this new revelation led to him fucking his thick cock through the tightness of your thighs, nudging your little clit with every thrust. he whimpers, actually whimpers, at the feeling, a sound he’d take to the grave - if you were awake right now, you would not let him live that down. but that didn’t matter right now, not when he was so close to painting those pretty thighs with his cum. or actually, why waste it? maybe he should just cum inside of you. it would save cleaning up in the morning, plus - you smelt so delicious after your shower, it’d be a shame to wash away that scent and his cum.
he angles his hips upwards, one hand on yours waist and the other keeping your head up as you sleep - the leaky tip of his cock pressing against your tight pussy. he doesn’t want to disturb your sleep, especially since you’re so cute when you sleep, so he only pushes the tip in - a faint pop! echoing through the room as he slips inside of you. “fuck, baby, s-such a tight pussy - isn’t she? looks like ‘m gonna have to stretch her out some more, hm?” soft whispers fall upon deaf ears, chuckling silently to himself as the sounds of your snoring get louder.
the constant suctioning on his tip was driving him mad, brows furrowed tightly as he threw his head back against the plush pillows. biting his lips so hard he draws blood, the ruby liquid running down his neck as he stares down at his cock disappearing between your thighs - thighs that we’re starting to…move? you seemed to be regaining some sort of consciousness, small breathy moans left your plump lips, eyes blinking open as you turned to look at him.
he was so caught up in your pussy, he didn’t even register your hand coming to push him deeper into your quivering cunt. your soft hand wrapping around him set him off, his hot, sticky, cum shooting straight against your womb as you take him all the way to the base. the other hand rests on his lower stomach running along the trail of hair that you love oh, so much - fucking yourself on his cock whilst he shoots white ropes along your walls.
“p-princess- mmph, shit- didn’t…i didn’t mean to wake you.” he really means that, he truly didn’t want to ruin your beauty sleep - but he couldn’t help but rub tight, slow, circles on your sticky clit, speaking lowly into your ear. “go back to sleep, beautiful, papí will take care of you, ‘kay?”
i mean shit, back to sleep we go!
-ONE CHANCE, JST ONE CHANCE MIGUEL
#miguel smut#miguel x reader#miguel ohara#miguel o'hara#astv miguel#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara headcanons#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel spiderverse#miguel o'hara x y/n#cheonstapes#cheonstapes films!🪷
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i'm *sad* y'all
#vent post#like objectively things are basically fine but i am not having a good time rn#home sick from school and the fever hasn't kicked up again but headache and nausea have#and bc of this i'm missing a test we were supposed to be able to do in groups but i'm gonna have to do it during my lunch by myself now :(#and i'm bored and anxious and the dog is being needy which like mood he gets locked in a room when nobody's home#because otherwise he will somehow get into the litter box and end up vomiting but just bc i'm home doesn't mean i wanna supervise him#and i spent most of my weekend writing an essay on a book i hate and it's a pretty good essay#and it's saying what the teacher (who cannot stand criticism of her chosen readings like she'll ignore or contradict) wants#but god was that a waste of my time#and neither my partner or my twin are texting back because they're in school#which again is completely fair but why isn't one of them cuddling me & petting my hair and saying it'll be alright hmmm?#and my twin will be coming home after school but i was supposed to see my partner today and now i can't which is homophobia plain and simpl#oh and i'm on my period which like i don't think i actually ever agreed to bleed all over creation and have cramps fuck this#so in conclusion life is suffering and the universe needs to get itself together and align to my whims :(#rio remarks
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SAY IT - LN
warnings - full smut, unprotected sex, some praising, light choking . basically just reader being needy for her boyfriend
AN - i am fragile. i cannot cope with anymore lando in aus pics.
MDNI !!
he must’ve known what he was doing. the curls. the necklace. even his tan. you swore he was strutting, confidence beaming from him all day. he became entirely irresistible, and yet, you would never initiate any form of intimacy, hoping that he’d catch onto your lingering gaze and pound into you with such force you couldn’t walk for a week.
lando knew what your lingering looks meant, he’d seen the look of lust in your eyes more times than he could count. but he wanted to tease his girlfriend, rile you up until you were desperate enough to beg him. and rile you up he did. all day, he made sure to stand close behind you, breathing down your neck, sometimes pressing small innocent kisses to your shoulders, and grabbing your waist as he brushed past you. if you were sat, his hand would find a home on your thigh, grabbing at the flesh or lightly grazing his fingers in patterns on your exposed skin. every time he kissed you, he made sure to swipe his tongue across your lower lip to kiss you deeper, all the while his hand would move from innocently stroking your cheek to grabbing softly at your neck.
every time, you stomach twisted and turned into knots, heat rising to your cheeks - which only encouraged him more - and the ache between your legs got worse.
it’s not like you couldn’t initiate it, you were just shy. what if you’d got the wrong idea from his actions all day, what if it was truly just affectionate with no sexual motive behind it. you didn’t want to embarrass yourself trying. additionally, lando taking control was the part you enjoyed the most, the sense of being used whilst also being loved. you were a simple girl.
by the end of the day, you were close to exploding in frustration, half tempted to lock yourself in the bathroom and sort yourself out, the other half of you tempted to try pushing your hips backwards when you cuddle up in bed and hope he gets the hint.
“angel, you ok?” lando asks, clicking in front of your face to gain your attention.
“yeah, sorry just zoned out for a minute there. what were you saying?”
“ah nothing important, don’t worry,” he said, smirking at the effect he knew he was having over you, so he stirs the pot further. “are you sure you’re ok? i think you’re burning up a little, acting out of sorts,” and his hands move up to your face, one holding your cheek, the other turning to test the temperature of your forehead. in turn, the physical touch drove you hotter, almost sweating under the pressure.
“yeah, i’m sure,” but your voice wavers and you catch him trying to supress a satisfactory grin. “you dick. you know what’s wrong. why won’t you do anything?” you sigh, defeated. he knew what you wanted and yet acted oblivious? why?
“i wanted to hear you say it - you know you can just ask,” lando says, all the while grabbing your hips to pull you down to straddle his lap, reclining further into the sofa. he looks you dead in the eyes, eyebrow cocking up, still waiting for you to just ask for him.
your face grows hot again, but out of sheer embarrassment, your head dropping to his shoulder to hide from him. but he has other plans, his hand coming up, grabbing a fistful of your hair, and pulling gently to move your head back. his other hand stays on your waist, fingers delicately breaching the waistband of your shorts.
“say it, angel. tell me what you want,” he says, tone harsh but eyes soft. your hips roll against his, searching for any friction they can, but to no avail as he drops your hair, and both hands move to hold your hips down against his own.
“lan, please.”
“please what?”
“please, i need you.”
“where, baby? where do you need me.” his head drops back to your neck, nipping at the skin, littering it with little bruises.
“literally anywhere you want,” you gasp out in desperation,
“anywhere?”
“you know what i mean,” you laugh, slapping his chest lightly.
“you wanna ride me baby? would that help?” he says, grunting slightly as his loosened grip on your hips allows you to grind down on him again. lando laughs at the sight of your head nodding quickly, and your hands going straight to undo the buttons on his shorts.
“woah woah angel, slow down. what’s the rush for?” he says, his hands grabbing yours and moving them back up to rest on his chest.
“needed you all day. need you right now.” you say, hips still grinding down onto his, small whimpers escaping your throat as you did. lando’s face moves closer to yours, capturing you in a heated kiss. it’s messy, your teeth hitting each others. his hands are at the hem of your top, pulling it slowly up and over your head, disconnecting your mouths momentarily, but immediately reconnecting them as he launches your top across the room. your hands move down his shirt, undoing each button as you go, before pushing it back over his shoulders.
soon you’re both left in just your underwear, and he’s pulling his cock out the top of his boxers, and pulling your soaked panties to the side. you hover over him, holding onto his shoulders for support, his hand gliding his cock through your wet folds, wetting the shaft ready for you.
“c’mon baby, ready for you. sit on my cock,” he grunts out, his tip already sensitive as you being dropping down. he gives you a moment to adjust, before using his grip on your waist to start moving you. you gain confidence, shifting yourself to start moving up and down his cock, the new angle causing you to moan out, head dropping to his shoulder.
“fuck, lan.”
“love seeing you like this, baby,” lando manages to say, become breathless himself, his gaze shifting to your chest, watching your tits spilling over the top of your bra with each bounce. he leans downs, pulling one out and attaching his whole mouth to it, tongue flicking over your nipple. he can feel your pace start to falter, knowing he’ll have to take over soon. he’s proud, you usually don’t last this long on top before complaining out knee pain.
“you’re doing so good, y/n. treating me so well,” he says, slowly moving his hips upwards to match your pace, your brain so foggy you won’t notice the change from you moving to him moving for you.
“baby, im so close,” you whisper in his ear, he takes it as a sign to move his hands to grip your waist tighter, and pulling your whole body to lean forwards into his reclining torso. he uses to position to his advantage, digging his ankles into the carpet. he begins thrusting his hips up into you, a spare hand moving between your bodies to rub circles on your clit.
lando’s deep grunts, your whimpers and the sound of the sofa bashing softly into the wall fill the room.
“fuck, love you, love this, don’t stop,” the trail of words fall out of your mouth, too wired up to form full sentences. lando pushes the fallen hair behind your ear, smiling at you softly and pressing his lips back to your mouth.
“love you too angel, taking me so well. always take me so well,” he responds, struggling as much as you are, “im so close.”
he doesn’t need to ask if you’re close to finishing too, he can feel you tightening around him and your kisses on his collarbone getting sloppier as you get more exhausted.
“y/n, baby, im close. you might have to move if you don’t want me to finish in you,” he says, eyes slightly panicking.
“do you want to finish in me?” “always.” “go for it.”
that’s it for him. those 3 words are all it takes for him to roll you over on the sofa, he’s hovering over you, and that necklace is dangling on your lips. he moves to lift your leg up his torso, thrusting into you at a new angle and the sort of pace he looks for in cars. fast and furious.
his hand moves back down to play with your clit, and it’s not long till your coming around his cock, hips rolling against his, and your walls tightening around him, pulling him in deeper. your head has rolled itself back, eyes closed, panting as your chest heaves. he takes the opportunity to dip down and kiss your neck, holding your head closely to his own as he finishes too. a chain of grunts and whimpers and words you can’t quite make out tumbling out his mouth.
the room falls into complete silence, only your heavy breaths could be heard. lando moved to lay at your side, his head resting on your shoulder and looking up at you.
“next time you need me, all you have to do is ask.” lando finally says, breaking the silence, in between his panting.
“but what if you don’t want to fuck me right then and there?”
“when that day comes, shoot me.”
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris smut#lando x reader#lando smut#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#formula 1#mclaren f1#mclaren#lando norris fluff#formula one smut#formula 1 smut#f1 smut#propertyofwicked
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Featuring: pussydrunk!chan x afab reader
Genre: smut with the tinniest of plots lol
Warnings: chris is reader's fiance, cunnilingus, semi-public sex (bathroom stall) and over all smut smutty smut.....yeah. minors do NOT interact
Notes: what i do for you guys (and myself). feedback is always appreciated! or you can hit me up and we can squeal together lol
chan is horny. like, unbelievably so.
which, in itself is incredibly inappropriate since he's currently at the work function you invited him to, in trousers that he cannot afford to have a hard-on in, but it's not his fault. how could he not be, when you're walking around the ballroom in your pretty little slip dress, hair brushed to the side, as you interacted with your coworkers. you're so graceful, so professional, so put together, so--
delectable.
he clears his throat, adjusting his pants and sitting up, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from you and back on one of your coworkers, who has been speaking to him for the past five minutes about the company's goals. he could not give less of a shit to be honest, but he's here for you, so he makes the effort, smiling and nodding when appropriate, the picture of a loving, supportive fiance.
that is, until he has your dress bunched up to your hips as gets to his knees in front of you.
he doesn't know how you two got here, just that he met your eyes over the shoulder of you blabbering coworker and suddenly, he was excusing himself, and through a flurry of movement, and mumbled apologies, you two were suddenly in the only place you could get a sliver of privacy--a bathroom stall.
"chris, my dress--" you whine when he shoves it upwards unceremoniously, forcing you to curl your fingers around the hem. "it's gonna get wrinkled and I have to give a speech later."
his deft fingers curl around the waistband of your panties and he looks up at you. "sweetheart....you know I love you, but I don't give a shit about your dress."
"we can't do this here," you protest, trying to regain some sense of composure, but your words come out in breathy whispers as his fingers trail teasingly along the edge of your panties. you can feel the heat pooling between your thighs, your body betraying your protests.
he chuckles, keeping his eyes on yours as he litters kisses on your inner thighs. "can't we?"
your scent enveloped him, intoxicating and sweet, as his fingers deftly peeled away your panties, his gaze never leaving yours. your already wet, and normally, any other time, chan would comment on how needy you were for him, how you were already sopping and he hasn't even touched you--but today? today he was the needy one, practically drooling at the sight of you.
"so pretty, baby," it comes out in a desperate sigh. "so so pretty."
before you can respond, he is flattening his tongue across your entire vulva, dragging it up slowly. his fingers tighten around your thighs when you jump, steadying you, but also keeping you in place for him.
he can't help the groan he makes at the taste of you as he sucks on your labia, lapping up at the juices you're already releasing. "fucking made for me," his words send vibrations into your pussy in a way that makes your knees weak.
your breath hitches, a soft moan escaping your lips as you bite down on your bottom lip, trying to stifle the sounds. the last thing you need is for someone to hear you, but the way chan is devouring you makes it nearly impossible. his tongue works with an expertise that drives you wild, alternating between broad, slow strokes and quick flicks that have you teetering on the edge.
"chris," you whisper, your voice trembling. "we really... we shouldn't—"
in answer, he maneuvers one of your legs so that it's resting on his shoulder so that he can press his face further against your pussy, inhaling deeply. the world outside the stall fades away, the murmur of conversations and clinking glasses becoming a distant hum as his tongue delves deeper. his fervor is almost worshipful, the way he licks and sucks at your clit with a fervent devotion, the tip of his nose brushing teasingly against your clit with every movement.
"please," you moan, your voice breaking. it's not clear what you're pleading for—more, less, for him to stop before someone finds you, or for him to never stop.
he responds with a growl, the sound vibrating through you as he doubles his efforts, alternating between gentle licks and intense suction, pushing you higher and higher until you're trembling. he knows exactly what you need, exactly how to push you to the brink and hold you there, teetering on the edge of release.
he's there when the coil in your lower belly finally snaps, tongue eagerly waiting to lap up everything you give him--and lap up he does. he is so lost in your taste, that you have to physically push him away, thighs already shaking because of the way he is overstimulating you.
he lets you push his head back by his hair, leaning his neck back to give you a perfect view of the glistening of your juices on his lips and the tip of his nose.
you can't help but let out a shaky laugh, a mix of nerves and disbelief at the situation you've found yourselves in. " we really need to get back to the party," you whisper, trying to regain some sense of rationality, even as your body still hums with the aftermath of his expert ministrations.
"right." he stands, helping you smooth down your dress and you up at him nervously.
"does it look okay?"
he gives you a once over, lips trembling in his effort to stop them from curling. your cheeks are flushed, dress wrinkled and he could see the fabric quiver slightly.
you groan.
"it looks awful doesn't it?"
"nah," he plants a soft, lingering kiss against your lips. "looks amazing. now how 'bout that speech, yeah?"
#straykids#bang chan#straykids fanfic#bangchan fic#skz#bangchan fanfic#bangchan headcanons#bangchan imagine#bangchan imagines#bangchan fluff#smut#stray kids hard hours#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader#bangchan hard thoughts#bangchan hard hours#bangchan smut
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Urmmmmm Haiiii … You’re my favorite Seb writer , absolutely adore yr stuff !!! Was wondering if I could req Seb and a reader who like …. Gives him a bouquet of coral and plants they find around the facility ……. If that makes sense …… (;´д`)
𝜗 ˖ ❝ hm, for me? ᵕ ♡
— in which you have a gift for sebastian. ✧
↷ 766 wc 𓈒 sfw 𓈒 kind of implied sebastian has a soft spot for you ?
‿ A/N im glad to hear you like my stuff <3 gave up like halfway thru this i cannot lie
The Blacksite seems barren.
The only recurring theme of life present appears to be the monstrous and mutated entities that roam the halls, but you are unsure if some of them are alive. Any simple organisms no longer exist down here. Perhaps the pressure was too much for them to withstand in the first place, or maybe they were all destroyed during the breach. You're unsure: they won't bother to tell you minute details like that.
Yet, you've found that your original assumption was wrong. Exploring the multiple levels and rooms has allowed you to see the tiny glimpses of life still thriving here. The occasional potted plant—albeit wilting fairly quickly—stands alive in tiny rooms tucked away from most entities' eyes. Little chunks of coral float within the underground areas, likely broken off from the main body by the bull shark outside the windows. Tiny aquatic grasses, easily trampled on as you weave yourself out of a Searchlight's bright gaze.
You've wandered through the Blacksite many times, over and over again, with nothing new to see besides these little plants. They are the only unpredictable sight. The lights flicker to warn you of an Angler—but there are no warning signs of a simple plant. Squiddles make a gradual screeching noise as a warning—but there are no warning signs of a little flower. Perhaps that is why they are so beautiful down here: because you expect a monster, not a simple pot of grass.
However, no other beings here seem to hold the same sentiments as you. Most of them are mindless and have their minds set entirely on consuming. The only intelligent ones you can name right now seem uninterested, too. The bull shark with thousands of eyes littered in and outside themself? It seems they cannot see the plant's beauty even with their many eyes. The red face that warns you as they rush through and destroy the halls? Well, with how they mangle things in their path, you're not entirely sure if they care that much for them. The Painter?
. . . Well, the Painter probably likes flowers. But they cannot exactly interact with them.
Water trickled down your hand and dripped on the floor. You cradled a small fragment of blue coral in your palm. It had a rougher texture due to the little dips and bumps on its surface. The coral felt like nothing yet heavy at the same time as it rested in your hand. Its muted blue color looked even duller the more you looked at it.
It almost looked greenish, too.
The color reminded you of SEBASTIAN.
You forgot about him and his opinion on flowers. He seemed more uncaring and disinterested in small things, so you figured he probably wouldn't care for them. Yet, you knew he was once human. There must be a chance he may enjoy them.
You hadn't realized you pocketed the coral until your suit's legs were well-drenched.
Upon presenting the messy bouquet to Sebastian, he responded with a taunting voice, "Is this for me? You really shouldn't have." He carefully examined the bouquet under his esca, observing the colorful coral chunks and slightly wilted plants. He appreciated how the colors complimented him.
Sebastian quietly hummed as he inspected the gift further, using his claw with surprising gentleness to brush through and examine everything you'd collected. It was evident from his growing smirk and visible canines that he appreciated the gesture if only a bit. "Why, thank you, friend," he said, before placing the bouquet on his desk.
With a taunting tone, he mused, "Don't tell me you went out of your way to get this just for me, now." Sebastian paused and directed his gaze back to you. "You know, I'm sure I could bargain a good price for this with the other Expendables."
You couldn't tell if he was serious, at least not until you looked at how his tail swayed like a happy dog's. Or how his ears twitched when your smile grew. Or how his voice softened ever so slightly as you eventually left.
Unsurprisingly, the bouquet was still there on your next visit, neatly placed in the best glass Sebastian could find. It rested nearby him, neatly positioned to make it look fuller and beautiful. Of course, he wouldn't sell it. For as much as he teased you, he could not deny the fondness he felt when he looked at it.
Perhaps one day, you'd take the bouquet place and be right next to him yourself.
He cursed himself as his ears and tail twitched at the thought.
☆⠀⠀⠀ᛝ⠀⠀want to support my stuff? my kofi is here !⠀♡
#( *・ω・) stick2vamp#sebastian solace x reader#sebastian solace#pressure x reader#pressure#pressure sebastian#sebastian solace x you#sebastian x reader
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I'm thinking about how insulted Gale gets when you refer to Tara as a cat.
Now I'm headcanoning that he wasn't referring to Tara in that moment--I'm starting to wonder if he has a cat AND a tressym familiar.
Give 👏 Gale 👏 cats. 👏
Sunning cats.
Lounging cats.
Cats that yell at him to wake up and feed them.
A cat that lays on the book he is reading and knocks over his inkwells.
It would be hilarious if Gale had a cat who did EVERYTHING that Tara told it to do.
Is Gale not getting up to eat? "Mittens, please inform Mr. Dekarios that it is time for your supper."
Gale hasn't cleaned the tower lately? "Patches, your litter box smells rank. Alert Mr. Dekarios to its squalor. Be a dear and also remind him to clean up those books piled up on his desk--yes, you may help him."
Does Gale just need a mental reset from research? "MR. DEKARIOS--Dotty looks pitiful. Throw her mouse. And her ringing ball. Immediately. No, it cannot wait another half hour. She is LANGUISHING."
Gale would do well with chaos kittens, I think.
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#gale#headcanon#bg3 headcanon#fanfic#bg3 fanfiction#fanfiction#bg3 fanfic#tara the tressym
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Would you want to marry me Benji?
Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Benjicot Blackwood Couple - Benjicot X Reader Reader - (OC) Y/n Mason (Misc house) Rating - Cute Word Count - 2237
Writer notes - I have not yet seen S2 I am going to watch it when all Episodes are out to the public. but he was requested so so much I have Wikied Him, I have done research I have watched the scene. But this is my first Benjicot Fic, I haven't seen the show yet, so Please I beg. Be kind to me.
Y/n sat cradled by the roots of house Blackwood's fabled weirwood heart tree, shaded from the autumn sun by the busses of red leaves grown in for the long cool winter, She wore a gown of deep grey with red and black accents, her dark curls in a long intricate braid down her back littered with leaves made from copper as jewellery, a matching copper locket around her neck, She hums a soft and gentle tune a bundle of cloth in her lap as she slowly embroiders
A soft smile crossed Benjicot's face when he sees her there, He slowly approached her, his boots crunching on the leaves. "Y/n," Benjicot said softly. "What are you doing out here all alone?"
"Enjoying the afternoon is all my lord," she answered sweetly,
"Are you not lonely, all alone by this tree? Would you not like some company?" Benjicot said with a grin on his face, sitting down beside her against the roots,
"I'm never lonely my lord, with the gods to keep an eye on me" she smiled glancing at the tree-carved face, "but I suppose company wouldn't be ill wanted,"
Benjicot gave a hum in agreement, looking up at the Weirwood as well, before shifting his gaze back to her. "I'm sure the gods are a wonderful company, but they cannot offer you witty banter."
"I suppose not my lord" she nodded,
"Then I can consider my presence a blessing from the gods themselves," Benjicot said with a hint of mischief in his eyes. He leaned closer to her, his arm brushing against hers.
"Absolutely my lord" she agreed,
Benjicot chuckled, enjoying the feeling of her being so close to him. He was quiet for a moment, their shoulders touching, before speaking again. "What are you embroidering?" He asked, peering at the bundle of cloth in her lap.
"A gift, my elder sister sent a raven to me this morning. She is with child, I wanted to make a her a gift for the babe,"
"That's wonderful," Benjicot said, a warm smile on his face. "A gift is a thoughtful gesture, I'm sure she'll appreciate it greatly." He leaned closer to her, inspecting the embroidered cloth more closely. "What are you making for her?"
"a swaddle and blanket for the baby, I've already picked the softest fabric and now I'm embroidering it, with the heraldry of the houses coming together, so the babe may know of his history, this traditional,"
Benjicot looked impressed and he nodded approvingly at her project. "That's a beautiful idea," he said, his eyes wandering over the embroidery design. "I'm sure it will be treasured by your sister and her child." He shifted even closer to her, their thighs now touching, enjoying the intimacy of their closeness.
"I'm sure she will, my mother keeps threatening to make me a wedding gown," she chuckled,
Benjicot chuckled as well, amused by the thought of her in a wedding gown. "And what do you say to that?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at her. "Do you plan on getting married soon?"
"I have nothing to say, I have very little say in it," she chuckled, "My father will make a match and I shall marry him, such is the way of things my lord," she explained,
Benjicot's smile faltered slightly at her words. "You don't mind having no say in something so important as your future husband?" He shifted his body so that he was facing her fully, his eyes studying her features intently.
"Such is the way," she shrugged, "for my sister's, for my mother, and her mother and her mother and so on,"
Benjicot furrowed his brow, not satisfied with her answer. "But what if you don't like this theoretical husband your father picks? Or what if he's cruel? Or unfaithful?"
"I shall have to do my duty," she said sadly,
Benjicot's expression softened and he reached out to gently brush some of her hair off her shoulder, his fingers lingering on the soft skin of her neck for a moment. "You deserve better than a future arranged solely out of duty, Y/n."
"thank you, my lord, but I suppose it's only a matter of time. My sisters are all wedded and now all either with children or have them. I don't imagine Father will leave me unmarried for much longer"
Benjicot's hand dropped from her neck, his gaze darkening at her words. The thought of her being married off to some faceless stranger left a bitter taste in his mouth. "No offence to your father, but I think he might be blind if he doesn't at least consider me a blackwood as a potential suitor," he said, his tone light but with a hint of seriousness.
she chuckled "I'm sure he considers your family my lord,"
Benjicot smiled at her reaction, glad to make her laugh. He shifted his position, his knee brushing against hers under the fabric of her skirt. "Then I pray that my family is considered highly in his estimation," he said with a grin. "For your sake, of course."
"Why? Would you want to marry me Benji?" She teased,
Benjicot chuckled softly, enjoying the sound of his name on her lips. "And why wouldn't I want to marry you? You're beautiful, clever, kind..." He leaned in a little closer to her, his voice dropping to a softer tone. "It could be a match made by the gods themselves."
she giggled, "That's too sweet of you my lord,"
Benjicot's grin widened at her giggle. "Only speaking the truth." He looked into her eyes, his own gaze warm and affectionate. "In all seriousness, Y/n," he said, his voice low and serious now, "the thought of you being married off to some man who treats you with anything less than respect and kindness... It does not sit with me well."
"no?"
Benjicot shook his head. "No." For a moment he was silent, his expression soft as he looked at her face, taking her in. "I don't wish to see you given to someone who doesn't deserve you," he said quietly. "You deserve someone who treats you well, who respects you and makes you happy. That's how it should be, for someone like you."
"And whom would you suggest?"
Benjicot raised his eyebrow at her question, his expression suddenly amused. "Oh, I don't know," he began, feigning ignorance. "Maybe me?" His tone was light, but the suggestion was serious. Benjicot looked into her eyes, waiting to see her reaction.
She blushed "... I would like that, but it's not up to me whom I marry,"
Benjicot reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Perhaps I could help you change that," he said softly, a spark of determination in his eyes. Benjicot leaned closer to her, his arm now resting on the ground near her hip, his body angled towards hers. "What if you did not have to marry whomever your father chooses?" he asked, his voice low and serious. "What if you could marry me instead?"
"I'd like that very much,"
Benjicot felt his heart swell with relief and joy at her words. A gentle smile spread across his face and he reached out to brush a knuckle against her cheek. "Then I will try to make it happen," he promised, his voice suddenly filled with determination. "I will go to your father and request your hand. I won't let anyone else have you." Benjicot beamed at her. The mere thought of making her his bride had filled him with a sense of joy and contentment that he had never felt before. "You should prepare yourself to have the most obnoxiously devoted husband in the realm," he said with a grin. "I plan on spoiling you rotten, my dear."
"I have no doubt my lord," she nodded, "Are you to see him now?"
Benjicot nodded. "I'll seek your father out, speak to him about this, and hopefully he'll give his blessing." He got to his feet, looking down at her with a slightly anxious expression. "Wish me luck," he said, grinning.
She nodded getting to her feet and taking his hand in hers standing on her tip toes to press a tender kiss to his forehead, "Good luck Benji,"
Benjicot felt his heart skip a beat at the feeling of her soft lips on his forehead. He reached up to touch the place where she had kissed him as if to prolong the sensation. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, looking into her eyes. "I won't be long. Wait here for me?"
"I will I promise," she nodded, "And last I saw him he was in the courtyard," She smiled doing her best to help him seek out her father,
Benjicot felt strangely calm, but still nervous despite himself. He wanted her father's blessing, he wanted her. "Thank you, Y/n," he said with an affectionate smile. "I'll see you soon." With that, he turned and walked off towards the courtyard.
When arriving at the courtyard he found the place busy as usual, and Y/n's father lord Mason sharpening his sword with the blacksmith, Benjicot approached the man, taking a deep breath and preparing himself for the conversation to come. He stopped a few feet away, clearing his throat to get the lord's attention. "Lord Mason?" he said politely.
He glanced up glancing at the young lord before returning focus to his blade, "Lord Blackwood, to what do I owe this visit?"
Benjicot swallowed back his nerves and stood up a little straighter. "I came to talk with you about your daughter Y/n," he said, hoping his voice didn't shake.
"Y/n? ... Y/n..." Her father pondered, "Ahh short one? Curls like mulberry stem? And tits like a river lands milkman?" That one?"
Benjicot couldn't help the faint flush that crept up his cheeks. "Ah, yes," he said, his voice going a little higher than he would have liked. "That one."
"AHH, do forgive me, my lord. Six daughters hard to keep them straight" Benjicot chuckled at that, the tension in his shoulders relaxing slightly.
"Understandable, my lord. It is quite a large family, after all."
"so? What about her?"
Benjicot took a deep breath and met the lord's gaze. "I've come to request your blessing," he said evenly. "I wish to ask for Y/n's hand in marriage."
"marriage?" He chuckled "You sure? I have two more unmarried daughters you are welcome to take your pick of them,"
Benjicot's eyes darkened slightly at the lord's words. "With all due respect, my lord," he said, "I do not want any of your daughters but Y/n. She is the one I wish to marry."
"you like the tits?" He joked,
Benjicot's face reddened even further, but he held steady. "With all due respect, my lord, your daughter is more than just... tits," he said firmly. "She is witty and kind and beautiful, and I would be honoured to call her my wife."
"... Alright, you marry her, You make her lady blackwood, and you give her children. That a deal?"
Benjicot felt a wave of relief wash over him, followed immediately by a pang of anxiety. This was really happening. "Yes, my lord," he said, his voice steady. "I will marry her, make her lady Blackwood, and give her children. I swear it on my honour."
"then you have my permission to wed her," he nodded returning focus to his sword,
Benjicot felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. A wide grin broke out on his face as he bowed his head in gratitude. "Thank you, my lord. You won't regret this, I swear." Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, practically jogging back to the Weirwood tree where he had left Y/n.
Y/n sat under the weirwood patiently waiting doing her embroidery,
Benjicot came to a stop a few feet away, watching her quietly for a moment. He still couldn't quite believe that not only had he asked for her hand, but her father had granted it. It all seemed almost too good to be true. He cleared his throat, a wide grin on his face as he spoke. "I have great news, my dear," he said, barely containing his excitement.
"oh enlighten me my lord," she smiled,
Benjicot stepped closer to her, his smile now so wide it was bordering on a grin. "Your father has given me his blessing to ask for your hand in marriage," he said, his voice full of joy. "I am to make you my wife."
"truely!"
"Truly," Benjicot agreed, his eyes sparkling with happiness. He stepped closer to her, resting his hands on her shoulders. "Our marriage is practically guaranteed," he said softly. "Soon, you will be mine. Lady Blackwood." Benjicot chuckled, his heart thumping against his ribcage. Seeing her giggle and blush because of him, just because he had called her "Lady Blackwood" stirred something in him. He gently brushed his knuckles against her cheek, his gaze affectionate. "Have you any idea how beautiful you are when you blush like this, darling?"
she giggled again and wrapped her arms around his torso squeezing him in a sweet hug "You're going to be the best husband Benji,"
Benjicot chuckled, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer. Her warmth against his body felt like bliss. he said, his voice full of affection. "Nand you shall be the best wife in all of westeros,”
#hotd fanfiction#hotd fandom#hotd fanfic#hotd#hotd imagine#hotd season 2#house of the dragon#house of the dragon season 2#house of the dragon x reader#house of the dragon fanfic#benjicot blackwood#house blackwood#got#benjicot blackwood smut#benjicot blackwood x reader#bloody ben#bloody ben x reader#hotd x reader#blackwood#Benjicot blackwood#benjicotblackwood
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THE SPACE BETWEEN COMFORT AND CHAOS.
✧ PAIRING: wolf!toji fushiguro x f!reader | 4.3k words
✧ SUMMARY: wolfhybrid!toji, hybrid au, flashback centric, grumpy x sunshine, animalistic behavior, mentions of injuries, violence, societal inequality, arguments, hateful speech towards hybrids, dysfunctional families, and a shit ton of angst and anger, lil fluff at the end !!
✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: hiii it's my birthday this weekend so i'm dropping chapter 4 as a quick thank you for all the support !! i love you all so much <33 this one is very toji centric and gives a lot of his past and lore to explain why he is the way he is and what led him to find reader !! there is a lot of inequality in this chapter so keep that in mind as you proceed. as always i would recommend checking out the previous parts before reading this :33
prev. | series masterlist.
the smell of blood makes toji's eyes crack open. it fills his nostrils, heavy and metallic, and it makes his hair stand on end. despite being so used to that scent, it still makes him uneasy, because sometimes he cannot tell whose blood it is.
once his eyes adjust to the dim lighting, he can't fall back asleep, though he knows he still needs rest. a series of cracks echo from his joints as he sits up, pulses of fatigue swimming through his muscles. pushing up from the ground, he casually approaches the metal bars of his cell.
his cage.
his nose twitches, the smell of blood stronger now that he's closer. a loud yawn rips from his throat, eyes catching some guards dragging another hybrid who had fought that day. he watches them throw the unconscious animal into his cell, not sparing another glance as they turn away. the sounds of their boots gets on toji's nerves, but he does not even have enough time to pity the poor creature.
another set of guards approach his cell. he's sure that they might once again tell him off for being too aggressive, or for not following orders, or for another whipping, but he's saved this time because they're just escorting a hybrid.
a familiar hybrid.
"what's wrong?" toji drawls, lips tugging into a casual smirk. "did y'lose?"
the tiger hybrid hisses angrily in return, as though personally offended, and bares his teeth. his striped ears starkly contrast his pinkish hair.
"like hell," sukuna answers proudly.
toji is about to comment on the various bloodied scratches littering sukuna's body, but one of the guards roughly shoves the tiger into his cell.
"get in!"
sukuna turns to pin him with a murderous glare, tone even and chilling. "touch me again and i'll kill you."
the guard scoffs, unbothered, before shutting the barred door behind him. sukuna's anger rises, but he does not say anything else, choosing to stare daggers at them until they've disappeared around the corner. toji understands the feeling. it would be a piece of cake to rip their throats out, especially for predators as vicious as wolves and tigers.
but they can't. one scratch on a human and they'd be put down.
a beat of silence passes. toji is sure the hybrid sitting across the hall is also thinking about the same thing, so used to biting his tongue just to stay alive.
(he remembers the first day sukuna got thrown in, hisses and snapping teeth as he cursed the guards with all sorts of creativity. toji had been underground long enough to see the same spectacle over and over again, and so he hadn't really given a damn at that time. the two passed weeks in silence, purely focused on their own individual fights and then immediately falling asleep once back in their respective cells.
toji was no expert at reading people, but he could tell that the tiger was as stubborn as he was—they refused to acknowledge one another.
and when they were finally pitted against each other, it was a messy fight. toji still remembers the way the crowd had roared at their aggressive attacks, every draw of blood eliciting some sick twisted pleasure within them.
toji had been used to putting in the bare minimum during his fights, finding it relatively easy to win against other predators. but that fight against sukuna was the first time he struggled a little bit.
the tiger will never admit it, but the feeling was definitely mutual.
so after the brawl, when they were both quietly sitting in their cages and hissing at their wounds stubbornly, there was a brief moment of acknowledgement.
"where the hell did you learn how to fight like that?" the tiger had eyed toji warily, thick brows furrowed in a way that made him look extra grumpy.
after that, it seemed that there was a mutual sense of respect between the two of them. they are not friends per se, definitely not. both toji and sukuna know that if it came down to it, they would kill the other in the arena if it meant staying alive.
but there was an understanding that they were both on the same level. and it seemed that those who ran the fights understood that too.
after all, fights between the two of them were always a very popular spectacle.)
even now, sukuna doesn't look at toji, too busy muttering a string of insults aimed at the guard from earlier. toji ignores them, used to it. they remain in that same silence, not uncomfortable, but not really comfortable either.
toji takes a seat, crossing his legs and leaning against the cold bars. he can still hear the sounds of the guards footsteps echoing through the halls, and that just makes him crave freedom—another familiar feeling.
he should be used to it by now. craving what he cannot have.
sukuna seems to know what he's thinking, because he scoffs with a dramatic roll of his eyes. "don't start."
"you don't ever think about running?" toji ponders, dragging his claws across the stone floor. the tiger's ears twitch, sensitive to the sound, and he throws toji a scathing scowl.
"run? where the hell would we go?" the tiger grumbles, crossing his bulky arms. "you know they'll just find us again. it's pointless."
"but it's happened before," toji insists, scratching behind his ear absentmindedly. there have always been whispers floating through the compound, of hybrids with guts of steel that took it upon themselves to make a run for it. though several were caught and devastatingly punished, there were those who they never saw again. the idea that they must be somewhere where light shines and wind blows is strangely comforting.
"yeah rarely," the tiger snorts in return. a quiet hiss of displeasure escapes his lips as he notices the claw marks running up his arm, and he carefully begins licking at his wounds. "most of the time those fools get caught. and then they get punished."
toji shrugs noncommittally, leaning his head against the bars. "worth the risk."
sukuna curiously peers at him from over his injured arm, heavy brows furrowed. "you really think it's that much better up there?"
"anywhere's better than in here." toji says it resolutely, and sukuna, normally so snippy, says nothing to rebuke him.
before the conversation can continue, toji's nostrils fill with a familiar scent—cigarettes, ironed clothes, faint whiskey. he suppresses a roll of his eyes.
"look who it is." he sarcastically cranes his neck, watching as shiu kong approaches his cell with a nonchalant smile.
"you sure do look relaxed for someone who just had me do a shit ton of paperwork." shiu leans against the wall, eyeing toji through the cell. toji does not like that he has to look up to meet his gaze, so he gets to his feet and casually crosses his arms.
"what the fuck did i do?"
"lots of people enjoyed your fight yesterday. with the polar bear?" shiu pulls out a cigarette, and toji's nose crinkles. "you've got an increase in bets, y'know?"
"who cares?" toji mutters, pushing away from the bars to pace around his cell.
it's not like any of the hybrids get that money.
"i do," shiu chuckles, cigarette balanced between his lips. "you're helping me get paid."
"lucky you," toji sarcastically shoots back. shiu snorts in amusement, crossing his arms.
"anyways, i'm thinking this is a good time to host a big fight for you. the timing is good." toji's "manager" (if that's what you can call him) eyes the wolf as he exhales a puff of smoke. toji's eyes narrow in return, a feeling of anticipation and mild irritation crawling up his skin.
"so you two—" shiu nods his head towards the wolf and the grumpy tiger sitting across the hall. "—prepare for a show, alright?"
sukuna curses colorfully, and toji rolls his eyes. "relax. i'm not giddy to fight you either, asshole."
"yeah because you'll lose," the tiger hisses, baring his teeth.
"oh yeah? that's not what happened last time." toji grins wolfishly, watching sukuna's anger rise.
"because you fucking cheated!"
"aw, little cat can't handle a few bites?" toji's amusement becomes more palpable, enjoying the argument—a very common occurrence for the two of them. "that's why dogs are better."
"i'll kill you," sukuna utters ominously, his striped tail puffed and curling in an aggressively defensive display.
"try it," toji smirks back.
"alright easy boys," shiu chuckles, shaking his head in mild exasperation. "save that energy for the actual fight. people eat that shit up."
"and somehow we're the animals," sukuna grumbles, deciding he's done with the conversation as he heads over to the corner of his cell and curls up on the ground.
"well yeah," shiu shrugs, unfazed. "you should be used to that by now."
they are.
"anyway i figured i'd let you know." the older man turns to face toji. "i know most of the fights are pretty easy for you. but since you both are top tier fighters, prepare how you need to."
"it's not like we've never fought before," toji replies dryly, ears twitching. "i know how it goes down."
"well okay." shiu adjusts his suit jacket, shoving his hands into his pockets.
from the corner of his eye, toji can see sukuna listening in, face impassive.
"you two give me a good show, alright?" shiu casually waves over his shoulder, before heading off back in the direction he came.
"whatever," sukuna grunts, turning on his side. toji watches the tiger's tail lazily flick—side to side. "i hate dogs."
toji lets out a dry chuckle. "well i'm not the biggest fan of cats either, asshole."
again, they aren't friends, but the bleakness of their situation makes it easier to tolerate one another.
a week later, they both face off in the area as promised. shiu claps toji on the back before he heads in, a gesture that makes the wolf's skin prickle, but he brushes it off. he could have someone worse be in charge of him, but shiu is a bit easier to get along with than most of the humans down there. though toji isn't naive—the only reason shiu is so casually cheery around him is because toji is his biggest moneymaker.
that's what it all came down to.
sukuna and toji have both fought enough times to know how to play to the crowd's wishes. they bark and snarl at each other like they are truly wild, claws and teeth and blood everywhere because they know that's what gets the humans going.
that's what gets them to open their wallets at least.
sukuna takes the victory this time around, which is not inherently unusual—they both have a fairly even split of victories and losses. they play up their enmity, and everyone goes wild.
even though hybrids are the shackled ones, somehow these humans remind toji of puppets—so easily manipulated.
the two of them stand and rile up the crowd at the end, acting like they truly are nothing but feral animals who know only to growl and snap at each other. as soon as they hear the sounds of money being exchanged and the roar of conversation they are escorted back to their cells.
toji's ears ring with the sounds of groans and cheers, the same familiar words grating his ears.
"i told you sukuna would win this one!"
"yeah but i said toji would draw first blood, so pay up!"
imbeciles. savages. nothing humane about them.
in their cells, both of them do their best to clean up their wounds. but a fight this aggressive usually results in equally rough damage.
"i think you fractured my rib or something," toji grunts, wincing as he sits down. sukuna throws him an unimpressed look through the bars of his cage.
"not my fault you're weak."
toji's middle finger flies up automatically, and sukuna's lips pull up to one side. "ask them for medical if it's that bad."
"yeah right," toji snorts, licking away the blood that has been dripping from the corner of his mouth. "like they'll listen."
it's more of a curse that hybrids have a better pain tolerance than humans. the medics here never take their injuries seriously for that exact reason.
no instead, they are expected to clean up as they can and prepare for the next fight, letting their body heal as well as possible. humans have always been so hypocritical.
they both relax in a welcome silence. toji suddenly realizes how tired he is, jade eyes straining as he attempts to fix himself up. he knows the rules—damaged merchandise is treated as such.
his ears pick up the faint sound of footsteps approaching, and he realizes that it's probably shiu coming over to update them about the earnings of their fights.
but he is entirely surprised.
"wow, you're definitely a sight."
toji's eyes narrow, teeth gritting. his mood plummets, ears straightening and tail going rigid. the sound of that voice makes every bit of hatred in toji's body come bubbling to the surface. he glares over his shoulder, spitting out each word with extreme difficulty. "what the fuck do you want?"
naoya zenin looks down his nose at the wolf, a greasy smile on his face. naobito zenin stands just behind him, arms crossed with a barely visible look of disgust on his face.
toji's cousin conveniently ignores the accusatory question, peering around the cells and hallway with feigned interest. "these conditions are terrible!"
he finally pins toji with his gaze, an evil smile pulling at his lips. "well, that's to be expected for animals."
"what the fuck do you want?!" toji growls, claws digging into the ground. naoya's eyes light up at the anger, knowing full well that those claws can never come anywhere near him.
"temper! temper!" the blonde gasps, tutting at toji like he's nothing more than a child. "haven't you learned how to control yourself by now?"
"let me out of this cell and i'll show you just how much control i have." the wolf's voice is no more than a rumble, dark and ominous because there is nothing in the world that toji hates more than his own family.
naoya shakes his head, feigning a look of disappointment. "so violent. it's a good thing we put you in here. who knows how dangerous you could've been to us."
the words hit their mark, a jab of self-hatred. toji's green eyes flit over to his uncle, sharp and accusatory.
the one who ratted him out to this godforsaken place.
toji knows when normal families have a predator hybrid born into their home, they lie and cheat and hide them away from this life—too desperate to keep their child away from such danger. after all, it's not the child's fault they were born a predator.
but not toji's family. not the zenins, who took one look at him and waited for the second he turned 18 before hauling him off.
nothing but a bunch of rats.
he knows that he was worth a lot of money. a healthy and fit wolf hybrid, broader and stronger than most of his own species. and of course, his family was quick to sell him off, glad to be rid of this curse on their family—the only shame.
toji had grown up knowing he was hated, but he never thought a family could do something so horrible to one of their own. he stopped seeing the best in people after that.
"you brought this on yourself," his uncle states now, emotionless. his opinion on hybrids has not changed one bit, and yet he shamelessly comes to the compound to collect a portion of the winnings that toji earns. "born with tainted blood."
"you're acting like it's my fucking fault, old man," toji spits out, hackles raised. he wants them to leave, because all he feels when looking at them is nausea.
"it's your damn mother's fault. couldn't keep away from my brother. she ruined him," naobito's emotionless voice takes on a tone of hatred, and toji tenses. "filthy dog whore."
toji's reaction is instantaneous. he's at the bars in a second, teeth bared and spewing curses as he makes a mad grab for either of them. he doesn't care—all he wants to do is tear them to shreds. toji can feel his wounds open further, can feel blood dripping over his skin, but all that seems miniscule when they are in front of him.
the cause of every single misfortune he has ever had.
naoya hops out of the way, laughing—it is a mocking, grating laugh that echoes throughout the hall as he watches toji desperately struggle. "see see! this is why you're dangerous!"
naobito shakes his head, as though he's thoroughly disappointed, but he does not say anything else.
"anyways, well done today!" naoya continues, grinning as he crosses his arms. "you earned a lot of money for us."
toji glares at him, dropping his arm and taking a step back. somehow, being further in his cell is much more comforting than being in their line of sight. he keeps his lips tightly shut.
naoya's voice turns taunting as naobito heads off without another word. "such a shame my dear cousin wasn't born normal like the rest of us." he follows his father without a care in the world, knowing how well his words sting. "had to be born an animal freak."
the hallways is empty. toji takes a few steadying breaths, pushing the anger away because he knows that there is truly no point in keeping it. it's not like this anger has done him any good. maybe if he had gotten angry earlier, he would have zenin blood on his hands—the thought gives him a sick sense of satisfaction.
"your family fucking sucks…" sukuna pipes up from across the hall. toji scoffs out a laugh, but it is far from amused. he turns away.
suddenly the blood on his hands makes him feel disgusting—so much more animalistic than human.
"tell me about it," he mutters, back turned. his ears pick up the sounds of sukuna curling up in his corner, and in a few minutes, quiet rumbling snores follow.
toji sighs, approaching his sink and staring at the cracked mirror he's grown used to seeing himself in. he takes in his reflection, disgust rolling in his stomach.
he thinks he'd probably be considered decently attractive if he was a regular old human. but the dark furry ears, the sharp canines, and all the scars ruin him. adding his haggard clothing and feral eyes and all the blood and dirt on him, he can understand why he is considered so untouchable.
an animal in every right.
he turns the sink on. he is briefly reminded of another time, a time where he lived in a family house and slept in a futon that was warmer than anything he's ever slept in. he can remember wearing things other than rags, occasionally a yukata and other times a t-shirt. he can remember eating a home cooked meal and drinking sake and feeling sunlight on his skin.
and yet even in those better times, he has always had to hear the words of his family cursing his existence. cursing his mother's name for seducing his father and ruining their bloodline with her animal blood.
the only dark stain on the pristine zenin family.
toji sighs, scrubbing the blood from under his claws—like clockwork. the water in the sink turns a mocking shade of pink, and as horrible as it is to say, toji is glad the blood is not his.
he wipes his paws across his ragged clothes, and stares at himself in the mirror.
he isn't ashamed to admit it—but he hates what he sees.
naoya's laughter rings in his ears as he shuts his eyes.
"hey toji?"
his eyes snap open. when the haze clears he sees your features come into focus, soft and curious. your scent floods his nose, and a pleasant shiver runs up his skin. there is a quick sense of relief when he realizes that he had been dreaming of a time in the past, and he steels himself, expression indifferent as he sits up. he briefly recognizes the stark contrast between the hardness of the stone floor in his cell and the softness of your couch—his tongue sits heavy in his mouth.
"what?" he grunts, rubbing at his eyes. he tries to throw you a mock irritated glance, but either it comes off too mild or you've become good at ignoring it. "when'd you get here?"
"a few minutes ago. i got takeout." your lips pull into a teasing smile. "unless you'd rather go back to sleep?"
he pins you with a scathing glare, and annoyingly enough, your smile becomes wider. he stands up, popping his joints and following you to your kitchen table, before diligently taking a seat—in his chair.
toji silently watches you bustle around, grabbing utensils and plates to evenly distribute the food. his stomach growls eagerly, and he realizes just how hungry he is—he recognizes that his body is getting used to being fed so often, and he does not know how to feel about that.
toji's eyes zero in on silly details, not knowing why he does it. your hair is a little messy, not as neat as when you left for work that morning. you've taken off your jacket, the absence of the restrictive fabric making your movements easier. he thinks you've probably had a good day, because your expression, though fatigued, is still relaxed—a small, almost miniscule smile remains on your face.
there a strange satisfaction the settles in his chest when he notices that. he doesn't know why, but the idea that you've had a nice day rather than a difficult one puts him at ease.
"how was your day?" you speak up, briefly making eye contact with him.
(toji does not understand why the small contact makes his stomach flip.)
he grunts, nonchalant. "not bad. didn't do much."
"the injuries are good?"
toji rolls his eyes, dropping his chin into his palm as he pins you with an intrusive stare. "yeah yeah. you ask this every day."
"well it can be good one day and not good the next," you reply defensively, frowning at the chicken you're currently dropping into his plate. but you look satisfied to hear his answer.
toji chuckles mutely. "sure kid."
(the nickname came randomly. you never commented on it. he didn't either.)
he hesitates for a second, before clearing his throat. "how was yours?"
you glance up at him, too quick for him to analyze the expression, but he thinks he catches a faint trace of pleasant surprise. "it was good. boring but not bad at all."
he nods awkwardly—the internal satisfaction grows stronger. his stomach rumbles again as you walk over and place his plate in front of him, and the smell hits his nose immediately—his hunger is all consuming.
(your scent is one of the few human scents he has truly found pleasant.)
and yet he finds himself patiently waiting until you plate your own food, sitting across him quietly. he presses his hands together, bowing his head as he mutters a quiet "thank you for the food" before tucking in.
(he does not say your name, but he thinks he is thanking you—his own twisted version of a god.)
he stays quiet for most of the meal, focusing on the unique and savory taste of the food. months ago he would not have imagined being able to consume such delicacy, but all you have done since you walked into his life is show him that he can have much more than he ever dreamed he could.
you blabber about random things as you eat, telling him about something you saw or what you did throughout the day. he listens.
you're in the middle of updating him about some stupid work drama, which, as embarrassing as it is to say, toji has been looking forward to hearing about. he does not interrupt you, trying to rack his brain for all the details you've spilled the last time.
(it's pathetic how quick he finds them. something about listening to you talk that makes everything else seem useless in comparison.)
"so anyways her husband found out and got mad. but then she basically tried to deny it and said that he was accusing her of nothing." you shove a mouthful of rice into your mouth, rolling your eyes. your tongue flicks out to lick at your lips—toji's eyes shamefully trace the movement. "it's a whole thing now because obviously the dude she was having the affair with works with us too."
"what a bitch," toji answers. your eyes crinkle with amusement, eager to hear him participating. you've probably since realized that he does find your gossip interesting. but it's more than that—he does not know why it's so easy to talk to you.
"right? i hate cheaters," you mutter, stabbing at your chicken.
he does too. something about being a dog that makes loyalty so damn important to him.
(maybe that's why he feels physically ill when he thinks about leaving your side.)
you continue rambling about your cheating coworker with a newfound conviction. toji listens, occasionally dropping a dry remark, and you either laugh or nod emphatically. his lips quirk upward at every reaction. he continues eating his food—slowly so that he can match your pace. which is odd, because he was so damn hungry before.
but even as he quietly chews on the flavored meat, he finds that satiety comes a lot quicker when he quietly listens to you talk.
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