#sort of just started these to figure out how to draw them all closer to my style

[magicwhiskers29]

The whole gang! The lines randomly start getting thinner partway through, but whoops. I had each of these on different canvases and didn’t check the others in between :p

[clawsdevour]

js wanna be yours

wc: 0.8k content warning: ur his first ever crush and he's confessing to you, fluff, atumu x reader, not proofread

note: this is kind of like a follow up from his first crush because an anon requested to see how atsumu would confess! (also he is SO the type of guy that's chalant but goes lowk silent around you)

⠀𓈒 ◌⠀ֹ ͏⠀ 𓍼

A letter? That's odd. I rarely get letters left in my locker, you thought to yourself. Staring at the plain blank envelope, looking for hints or clues indicating who slipped it in the little slot. Absolutely nothing, not even a small pencil mark.

Carefully ripping the glued seal, you take out the small folded sheet of paper. Just like the plain envelope, there wasn't even any decorations or drawings left on the blank piece of paper.

Unfolding it, there only laid a few words to be read:

'Please come to the back of the school, near the lockers, at four pm. I need to tell you something important.'

You can't tell if this was some sort of silly prank being pulled on you. It was way too early for a prank, all you just wanted was to put on your indoor shoes. In your mind, you're contemplating about this letter that wasn't even signed.

Should I show up? I don't even know who this person could be.. this could just be a prank someone pulled on me!

Sighing, you close your locker and slip the note into your bag before heading to your first period. The letter could come second, overall school just began.

The day flew by without a worry, making you almost forget about that mysterious letter left in your locker. Looking back at the clock, it was three forty-seven.

Still, you couldn't quite wrap your head around this sudden opportunity to see who was behind the note left in your locker. You were more than just curious to know what their motives and intentions were as well.

Hearing the clock strike, you made up your mind. I'm going to see who this person is.

Heading out of your classroom that was filled with chatter, entering the quiet halls whilst you make your way down to the back of Inarizaki. You were on the lookout to see if any of the familiar faces lurking around could be that person.

Making it outside, the humidity in the air hits you while you fight past it. Near the lockers, you saw a tall figure disappear around the corner.

That was a bit odd. That guy's going the same way as me.. is that the guy behind the letter?

A bit concerned, heart starting to pick up the pace with every footstep that inched towards the back of the locker rooms. You're walking ever so slowly, trying to not make noise.

A tall and lean silhouette makes it's way into your vision. The man's wearing Inarizaki's volleyball uniform, perhaps they just left practice. He isn't facing you, but you had an idea of who he may be with that blond hair. It was no one else but someone you've just gotten closer with over the past few weeks.

"Atsumu, is that you?" breaking the suspenseful tension that rose in the air. His back turns away from you, chocolate eyes wide open with brows raised. Atsumu's face was slightly still flushed from volleyball practice and his hair sticking to his forehead.

"Hey! Um look.." his shyness taking over when you walked up to him. A hair scratching his nape.

"You wrote that letter in my locker right..?" The awkwardness starting to build up like the first time you both met.

"Yes, I just really have to say these words to you. It's like nippin' at me like crazy" his big eyes are nervously flicking back between his trembling hands and your face.

You've never seen your best friend act this way before. Something must be really aching at him if he's being like this. He's biting down on his bottom lip before parting them again.

"I really.. just, like ya" his husky voice getting lower, hoping you heard him through his slight mumbling.

Atumu's more than flushed. He was practically burning a hit red. His heart is thumping more than a hundred miles per hour. He can't believe he just confessed.

On your end, your face is frozen in mid-gasp. This was more than just a surprise since you've always had this nagging feeling that drew you towards him. You finally understand why, not just as bestfriends, but because you also liked him.

"Atsumu.." tilting your head up just right below his tall stature. You're automatically smiling from his words. The contentness you're feeling is unmatched by his, you can't even wipe off the grin from your face.

"..I just wanna be yours-" he's feeling a warm hand reach to caressing the side of his face. A wave of euphoria washing over him when your lips make contact with his.

His eyes are bigger than the volleyballs that he sets on court. He can't believe his confession went so well. He's gonna for sure brag about this to Osamu later.

Unlatching your lips to respond to him, a wide beam of joy radiating from your smile. Looking at his red complexation, his mouth parted, looking absolutely dumbfounded and awestruck.

"Duh, you've always been!"

masterlist here

[sareenawails]

ROBIN HOOD HOBIE

YIPPEE OCTOBIE WEEK 3!!

I wanted to make something that looked more realistic and colorful

I'm really proud of myself for this one!

Here's his full outfit

I think I did an ok job at making it feel medieval but I didn't want to lose Hobie's punkness

References

octobie event by @the-kr8tor

banners by @mushroom-graphics-allotment

Robin Hood au

-I voted for medieval theme just cuz I wanted the excuse to draw this lol

-Anyways here’s very bad and lazy plot summary of this hobie au

-English is not my first language so if this is bad please bear with me I'm not a writer for a reason.

-Like the original folklore tale, this is set in medieval England

-Hobie is an outlaw, who with a group of other outlaws called the Merry Band ( originally called merry men but I don't like that soo), steals from the wealthy and gives back to the poor

-He goes by the name Robin Hood to hide his identity( so he’s less easy to track idk)

-Anyways, in this universe Y/N (or an OC whatever you prefer) is part of the royal family or a wealthy noble family.

-They are very sheltered due to the death of loved one (probably their mom or sister)- left their father very emotionally scarred, so he’s very overprotective of them

-for whatever reason, y/n and hobie run in into each other and hobie steals an expensive piece of jewelry from them(necklace, bracelet, brooch, whatever doesn’t really matter)

-This piece of jewelry however holds a lot of emotional value to them because it was given to them by their aforementioned deceased loved one.

-They manage to run into hobie again ( probably because they were trying to track him down and he catches on to what they were doing and decided to confront them) and tries to get their heirloom back

-He tells Y/N that he’ll give them their heirloom back if and only if they become a sort of spy for him. Someone who spends time around nobles and wealthy merchants and can give him insider information ( Who has the most money, whos an easy target, where and when would he be able to find them, etc useful info)

-Y/N is obviously very put off by this offer, after all their whole life they’ve been raised to be a respectable figure in their kingdom. Working with one of the kingdom’s most wanted criminals would be a dangerous, bizzare thing to do; It could get them in serious trouble with the law, bring shame to their family’s name, get them disowned all together.

-The risk is big but their desire to get their heirloom back is even bigger, so reluctantly they agree.

-From them their odd relationship begins. It’s a very enemies to friends to lovers kind of thing (I'm basic I know)

- Y/N sees hobie as a dirty criminal who wants to take advantage of them and would throw them under the bus if the need arises

-Hobie sees them as nothing more than another pompous noble who doesn’t care about anyone but themselves.

-It’s a very “strictly business” relationship due to their refusal to get along with each other.

-The longer they spend working together the more they get to know more about the other's side of the story.

-Hobie learns about how sheltered Y/N is, how they have a double life as commoner and royal, and how much they yearn for a more independent life. He learns that y/n is not as selfish and heartless as he thought they were, they’re just naive about a lot of things.

-Y/N learns about what hobie’s life was like growing up as one of the many unfortunate people in the kingdom. Having to scrounge and steal in order to survive, having to go on days on an empty stomach in order to save what little he had. They learn why he chose to do the things he does and that he and his crew are purposefully painted in bad light as criminals for doing what the rich aren’t willing to do.

-As they get closer they start looking out for each other more

-Y/N helps him cover up his tracks, using their high status to get him out of sticky situations. Sometimes they even help him patch up his wounds.

-In turn, hobie gives them a taste of that freedom they’ve always wanted. Going out and showing them parts of the kingdom they never seen before

Anyways that's all I really have I thought of this at like 2 am so it's not really that good.

If any actual writers feel inspired by this and want to write a better, more well thought out version then be my guest ( plz tag me i'd love to read it!)

HAPPY OCTOBIE EVERYONE!!

[shirefantasies]

Hello! I love your work so much, I hope you're doing well! I have an ask for you, whenever you get around to it 🥰 Could I please see the elves react to a reader that just tends to draw wildlife to them? Almost Disney princess style, maybe they just have a calming sort of aura about them. Thanks so much!

The Elves When You Attract Wildlife

Thranduil

The elven king is simply watching you as you stroll through the forest, his eyes following your movements idly. Until, that is, he sees the way you slow. A smile spreads across your face as you excitedly wave him forward, stepping along gently with a flat, inviting hand extended. Its recipient? A slender, graceful white deer lowering its head slowly your way. Such hinds are rare to the forest, revealing themselves most often to elven royalty, and yet here this one was wholeheartedly embracing your presence. Thranduil is reminded all over again how blessed your relationship is as he watches your effortless commune.

Feren

His steps slowed on patrol the first time he caught sight of a bird lighting on your finger, bringing a grin to your face. He sheathed his blade to approach you, each footfall near silent. Head tilting with gentle curiosity, you reached up to stroke its feathers, and it was Feren’s turn to smile, gaping faded in favor of pure admiration. “The forest does not give up its secrets lightly,” Feren told you. You started, but quickly shifted back to a smile upon sight of him, and the way his heart flipped told him everything he needed to know: no discipline would come your way from your distraction. Not when his feelings were growing so strong.

Legolas

Running effortlessly on the snow, Legolas typically does not look back, but the lack of footsteps crunching at his side brings him pause and has him turning around. When he does, his brows raise at the sight a distance behind him. There you are knelt in the snow, seemingly unbothered by the way its cold seeps into your legs, extending a hand. Its recipient? A short distance a way curls a snow-white fox, its form opening as it tentatively steps your way. Smiling, Legolas moves and short distance away, crouching and watching as the fox even lets you stroke its pale fur. Your gentle treatment of animals is exactly why he loves you. Perhaps he should tell you such…

Haldir

The night is cold, wind rushing past your form and whipping through every loose article of your clothing, fabric rapidly brushing skin. Your head is covered with a hood, through which wind whistles into your ears. At your side runs your companion, large furred figure loping against the rush. You do not stop until a voice manages to cut through the wind. "What is that?" Haldir. "I told you I had friends in these woods," you whirled around, answering with a grin. "So I was wrong in taking that to mean allies?" "Only because you haven't seen him hunting," you replied, venturing a tentative stroke of the wolf's head. You had been taming him for some time since you saved him from a trap, so he had grown used to your touch- not quite like a pet. Not yet. "How?" He asked, shaking his head. "How do you do it?" "How I try to do anything, Haldir. With kindness." At that, Haldir's stoicism dropped, finally giving way to a smile.

Galadriel

Seeing you knelt upon the dirt, the Lady of Lórien creeps closer, bare feet making next to no noise as one inches before the other. Tilting her head, Galadriel reaches out a hand, but she never gets a chance to as you turn around. Turn around, in fact, with a small, dark-scaled snake curling up your bared arm. Her lips arced slowly upward. Gradually. Galadriel's face does not often betray her thoughts, but you know her well. She is less guarded with you, so the surprise is clear enough for your own face to fall, to hesitate. "I know some find this strange," you say. Quickly, though, she closes the gap between you, stopping you with a finger to your lips. "All life has a purpose. Your appreciation of it is dear."

Lindir

A tree stump serves as Lindir's seat as he softly plays his flute, eyelids fluttering open to peek at his audience of one: you. There you stand, hands clasped and lips curved in a smile of joyful serenity, as you take in Lindir's composition. Notes flutter on the wind, but that is not all. Your grin widens as a little brown bird dances in the air, flapping closer to you as you extend a hand, one finger out. You are not expecting much, but to your delight and surprise the bird proves you wrong, lighting on your finger. Your eyes only lifted from this unexpected gift and its tiny taloned grip on you when the sound of music faded away; looking up, your eyes met Lindir's, which were looking at you with such adoration as to bring a flush to your cheeks.

Elrond

"Where are you, meleth nîn?" Soft words alert you to the presence of another emerging at your back, but you do not turn, do not alarm the approaching set of hooves. Soft eyes flutter at you from below, where the deer remains with lowered head and tentative stance. Beckoning with your hand, you keep your eyes forward and offer promise of grain. Elrond's hand falls upon your shoulder, lightly, affectionately, and there he stands in comfortable silence until the deer has nibbled its fill from your palm. "I love it here," you whisper, eyes finally rising from their fix upon the woods to meet a pair of warm blue ones. "And I love you," Elrond replies with a soft smile.

Arwen

"So this is where you go to hide away?" Arwen teases, hand gently squeezing the one you lead her by. For your part, you simply giggle and guide her further along the little-worn dirt path. Its end culminating in a pond dancing in the sunlight and lined with rocks and cattails. "Are we hunting for frogs, then?" "No," you grin and shake your head, "Watch this." Cupping your hands in the cool, clear water, you hold them out and wait. Wait and feel Arwen's hand gently upon your waist, holding you in anticipation. Anticipation gratified by the slowing of glassy wings and lighting of a thin red figure upon the edge of your hands. Drinking slowly and rubbing its arms together, the dragonfly looks away from you and drifts through the air to the cattails. A blue one emerges some time later, follows a similar process. Blue, green, and red dance in the air as they dart over the water, sometimes to that which you hold for them. Turning back to face Arwen, you feel yourself flush at the awe alight in her blue eyes. "Care to try?" As soon as she nods and cups her hands, you hold them in yours, plunging all four of them back into the glistening water.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @filiswingman @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch @tiny-and-witchy @th3-st4r-gur1 @fleurdemiel-145 @mistresskayla-blog1 @misabelle717 @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @evattude @kpopgirlbtssvt @rivendell-poet | Reply/Message/Ask to join 🖤

[linkito]

What's this au that watcher/vex art was similar to? Tell me all the things? -🎀

It’s less of an au and more of just an idea for a start of something? Either way~

It begins with young Watcher-in-training Grian fleeing from the Watchers, finding refuge in a cave that draws him in with some kind of powerful magical aura. He hopes it can mask his trace.

Unfortunately for him, it’s the home of a large, monstrous vex (Scar). He’s very feral and scraggly looking, and he has some awful magic-locked cage muzzle/gag on, leaving his teeth constantly bared and preventing him from speaking. (It doesn't make him safe by any means; he still has claws and various weapons of past attackers scattered around.)

But he’s not attacking Grian. Not yet. Not on sight. He mostly just...watches with narrowed slitted eyes, waiting for something that doesn’t seem to be coming. 

Grian is frightened, has no weapon, and he’s significantly smaller. The vex should be able to take him down easily.

So eventually they reach this sort of neutral state of neither of them moving any closer. Grian creeps along the walls and eventually, slowly, settles himself down to sit to rest his poor shaking legs. Scar stares for a moment longer, then also sits, still watching.

Grian figures maybe as long as he doesn’t provoke this beast, he’ll be safe.

(And it's true. Scar is used to people coming in here to steal and demand to make deals with him. Grian clearly didn't mean to be here though. But he's keeping a watchful eye. He doesn't trust it.)

Eventually, Grian thinks maybe the vex is asleep. So he takes this time to meditate. His real eyes close, and hee opens his Eyes to try to determine if the Watchers are on his trail yet, reaching out as far as he can to Look.

When he opens his real eyes again, Scar is directly in front of him, staring more curiously, sort of like he’s wondering if his intruder just died whilst sitting up straight.

Grian yelps and bonks his head on the wall trying to scramble backward.

But Scar also yelps (although muffled) and flails back as well.

And despite everything... Grian can’t help but laugh at that? Because why is he startled? 

Now that he’s closer, though, he can make out the Watcher’s symbol on the lock of the cage on Scar’s head. And being spiteful of anything the Watchers might do, he reaches out without even really thinking about it. 

Scar freezes.

He lets Grian touch the trap around him, but he still doesn't know for sure this isn’t an elaborate trick? Something to get close and take him down? It would have been Grian's only way of winning, truly. So Scar places a clawed hand close to Grian's neck. He's slow and soft with the touch, but it’s undeniably threatening. If Grian was going for some kind of trap here, surely he'd flinch back?

But Grian swallows nervously and tries his best to reassure the vex that he wants to help.

And, eventually, Scar removes his hand and cranes his head to help Grian look at the contraption, also baring his neck, tentatively trusting.

Grian breaks the seal and slooooowly pulls the thing off of Scar, and oh Scar is so happy.

He grins, big and toothy (full of sharp edges, but it's still so oddly charming?) and grabs Grian to spin him excitedly.

He speaks now, (and oh if his voice isn't also so charming) and he lifts Grian up, looks up at him, lips far too close. "Oooh my gosh, I swear I could kiss you right now!" he exclaims, but he doesn't, a shame, really, and instead puts Grian back down and just starts excitedly introducing himself.

In this case, Vexes have like unlimited magical potential. But they are limited by only being able to use it under the direction of someone else. (thinking like how evokers summon them and direct them) The catch is, vexes are tricky creatures. They can and will warp your instructions to their liking if you leave any room for loopholes or leeway. That’s part of the reason Scar was gagged. To prevent him from swindling you into a bad deal.

So normally Scar would do whatever he could to bend the rules and screw over his master, but he’s so overwhelmingly happy at being freed that he says to Grian, “Anything you want! It’s yours. Anything at all, no tricks, no nothing.” And he means it, too.

And that’s all I really came up with! Like I said, just a beginning.

I think Grian should ask about that kiss.

[elixrr]

Stages of Love! : Part 2

STAGES : how they fell in love (1), them as they pin for you (2), how they plan the confession (3), their confession (4) FT : Yanqing x Teen!Reader CONTENT NOTES : Nothing but pure fluff! It's headcanons but in the format of your average fanfiction, excluding dialogue (except for the confession part)!

STAGE 1 - how he fell in love with you.

It wasn't planned. He'd never suspected that he would fall for you on this one strange yet fateful day. Yanqing recalls, though, when you and he had first met. You weren't a cloud knight, but you admired the swords that each soldier carried. You weren't nearly as interested or as engrossed in swords as he was, but you still thought they were something worth looking at; something to admire. And to be honest, he admired that about you, too. Someone who was interested in swords! Maybe Yanqing was just bored, maybe he was curious, but he was definitely feeling social that day, and so he approached you— not that you noticed, though. Aloud, you asked a question about some of the swords. He doesn’t remember what you asked on that day, but it was a question that he answered, and that’s what earned him a new friend, and that new friend was (and is) you.

But that wasn't really what made him fall. It was more so the effort you put into the friendship that made his heart swell and squeal. You realized very early on that his life revolved around swords and swordsmanship, and to make him happy, you started to research swords. You grew closer to him by learning about swords and discussing anything and everything pertaining to them, swordsmanship, and even the Cloud Knights. He didn't actually know that you were putting so much effort in for him until he witnessed it all himself. On a mediocre, boring, and especially eventless summer day, Yanqing found himself strolling into a library. It's hardly ever too crowded, but it's not abandoned. It's a public library, but more private, and while he doesn't really enjoy books, he loved to look at the covers of certain fantastical stories and skim through pages of various books that have some sort of relation to swords and the simple topic of swordsmanship. It was on this day that he ran into your slumped figure scrolling on your phone with various books laid in front of you, a lot of which having books on swords and stories that pertained to sword masters. One particular book was a well-known, cliché, and typical fictional story that had its protagonist draw their blade at the main antagonist for some heroic reason that leads to a duel at the very end of the book. Actually, he was the one who told you about that story, and you decided to read it. Or, rather, you were in the middle of reading it, but you were distracted by Gunaifen's most recent post about ghost-hunting. He remembers that day well. Next to you was a small pile of books that Yanqing had mentioned before, and they were all books that he wanted to try and pick up (as they were about swords, swordsmanship, and mainly were written by old Luofu sword masters). Before you'd met him, you weren't all that into swords. You thought they were cool, but that was it. Maybe Yanqing was able to convince you that swords were so much more than what meets the eye?

But then he asked you, and he learned that you just wanted to give him a friend to talk to. You noticed that people eventually grew tired of his constant talk of swords, and you wanted to give him a nice little change where he could finally just speak to someone about the things he likes.

His heart jumped. He might've jumped, too—slightly, only slightly, but he was caught off guard. A rose-tinted blush blossomed across his face, and he excused himself out of the library, and from the window, he saw you continue reading the books. Later that week when you visited him briefly, you gifted him that small pile of books, and for some reason, Yanqing couldn't shake off this weird and fuzzy feeling that he felt every time you appeared in his thoughts.

STAGE 2 - how he's pining for you.

Lately, it's been frustratingly hard to function properly when he thinks of you. It's even worse when he sees you! He panics a little, freaking out about what to say or do around you, and it's a feeling so incomprehensible to him because he's never been an overthinker. He never dwelled too much on worries, but now he double checks himself in the bathroom mirror, he fixes his hair a little more, and whenever he's off duty and he takes a stroll around the Central Starskiff Haven, Yanqing always seems to glance around for the potential sight of you because he'd be wearing either his newly washed uniform or his best, polished outfit. The thing is, Yanqing has never dealt with love before. He's never really cared about anything outside of swordsmanship, swords, and being a Cloud Knight, but now you seem to override everything he's been paying attention to, and that's causing him to focus primarily on you, even when his current tasks don't even pertain to you! He finds himself groaning so much everyday now, and it's no longer from the frustration of training.

Love is just a strange thing for this boy, and that's easy to spot. He doesn't understand this furious sting in his gut and heart when he sees you talking to another guy-- hell, just anyone with a sword! It's embarrassing when he thinks about it, but he's sure that he would make for a much better swordsman than anyone else you'd hang out with. He's destined to become the next greatest swordsman in the entirety of the Luofu, so if you wanted to talk to anyone else with a sword, he could be your best bet!

Still, he knows better than to barricade you from friends. He just can't help but feel a slight irk whenever he sees you with someone else. It could be his mind tricking him, but you might be smiling a little wider and a little more with some other guy from the Cloud Knights, and if he gets the chance to see who this guy is exactly, he might request a sparring session with him with you to watch. Would he do that? Maybe. But then Yanqing imagines your sad face to see this other guy hurt, crap, he can't do that! He doesn't even know if you guys are actually friends or not, so what's it to him? He groans so much now, it's so frustrating to even try and grasp what these feelings mean. Why is he so jealous of people who talk to you? Why does he yearn to just be in the same room as you so much? Why does he feel his heart pound at the slightest glance, at the smallest smile, and at the littlest touches that you provide him? He's blushing, crap, why does his face feel so hot right now? The General notices the changes in Yanqing personality, performance, and even his improvement in looks. He asked Yanqing about his frustrations and what's been going on with him as of late, and Yanqing, not knowing what else he could do about this, tells Jing Yuan about his dilemma. He understands the situation immediately, and now that he's caught wind of his potential (literally guaranteed 100%) crush, the General might try pushing you guys together. No more pining, no more screaming into a pillow at two in the morning for Yanqing! It's time to let the confession commence!

STAGE 3 - how he plans for the confession.

Technically, Yanqing hardly does any of the planning. It's mostly Jing Yuan. Jing Yuan plans most, if not all, of your sudden hangouts. Yanqing had once caught the General telling someone that he, Yanqing, wasn't available at the moment because he was about to go on a date… A date? Yanqing? On a date? With you? His face exploded into a beet red, and he refused to listen to the General's pushes for him to go out with you.

However, because of that, you'll notice that Yanqing has been avoiding you for a while. Even if you tried going to his usual sparring sessions, he'd break out into a sweat, he'd start to get nervous and a little red, and he'd ignore you as though you weren't there. Of course, to him, it helps him clear his mind, but as your appearance in his everyday life begins to thin out, and as you begin to talk to other guys, he starts to worry about you and your friendship. He's not dumb; he knows why you're not appearing on his life as much anymore, but now the hurt is starting to sink in. He can't avoid you any longer. The longer you're gone, the more he thinks about you. Yanqing finds himself tugging at his hair in frustration— why can't he just figure this out?!

.

“Talk to them.” Jing Yuan says.

“But, I— I just, I...? I don't know how? I mean, I know how, they're my best friend! It's just... I don't know, I haven't spoken to them at all lately, and—”

“You have a crush on (Name), Yanqing. It's normal for these feelings to arise, but it's useless to push them away. The more you push (Name) away, the bigger the chances of your relationship tearing will become. Talk to (Name), even if it's as friends. They will appreciate it, I know.”

“I...” Yanqing was at a loss for words. “I will. Thanks, General.”

In truth, he never thought that he could lose you through this. How naive, he Yanqing realizes, for him to expect everything to be the same as it was after avoiding you like the plague. Hearing Jing Yuan and his advice, Yanqing fights the urge to bite his nails off at the mere thought of losing you. He doesn't want to, and now he's willing to do as much as he can to stop this potential ending.

So, off Yanqing goes to find you and make amends... and maybe ask you out.

STAGE 4 - the confession.

As if a field of cotton grew in his throat, a lump formed and prevented speech from flowing. Yanqing stood near you, watching you from afar as you hung your feet low towards the ground, kicking them around occasionally in thought. He needed to do something. He needed to say something because he almost felt you slip away from him. You haven't spoken to your friend for a whole month, plus an extra week. You miss him, he misses you, but he's afraid. And you're hurt.

He sees it in your eyes, gloom overriding that spirit he had once seen in you. It lingers in your impassioned brows that nearly meet by the creases made above your nose. You're upset, clearly so, and Yanqing regrets his avoidance when you decide to stand and start towards the exit of the training ground.

"Wait! Don't leave!" You turn around, confused by the voice of your ex-friend. Surprise! It's him. Yanqing stares at you, hesitant and speechless. It's clear that shouting was hardly his plan.

"Yanqing?" You call in awe, "Is that really you?" He panics, realizing that you're running straight for him. Are you mad at him, or are you just happy to see him?! Wait, you must be so mad at him, no way you would just take this situation lightly after all of this time-

But you hug him. Thank Lan and whichever Aeon let this happen! Feeling your embrace, Yanqing thinks that he's forgotten what relief and joy felt like for the whole duration you were gone. He can't deny it, he missed you so much, and from the way his arms reciprocated the tight embrace, you knew that he didn't mean to hurt you.

Yet, you still want to know why he avoided you.

"Yanqing, why'd you leave like that?" You ask, muffled in the sleeves wrapping his shoulder.

"Well- I..." No use lying now. Yanqing fumbles, trying to figure out the words he wants to use. "The General..." No use lying now.

No, you deserve to know why.

"The General told me that I, uhm, apparently... Don't like you as my friend anymore?"

CRUD! What the heck was that response? Don't like you as my friend anymore? Holy hell, I like you so, so much! Yanqing cringed at his own voice. You pull away from the hug, shocked and visibly hurt from what he just said. You- You can't believe him, right? Yanqing prays amidst this awkward pause that the ground swallows him whole.

"...What? You don't- you don't want to be friends? Why? What's wrong with me?"

"No, no, no! Nothing's wrong with you, crap, I actually think you're amazing! I didn't mean what I just said, I meant to say something else- I just- I don't know, I kind of panicked and I-"

"Relax," you put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "tell me what you wanted to say. Just tell me the real reason why you had to avoid me, then."

Yanqing looked at you, the lack of distance nearly shutting him down as a whole. Aeons, after being deprived of your presence for more than a month, he's not used to having you even breathe the same air as him, let alone have your gaze on him while he's fully aware of it. It's overwhelming, his heart is racing, and he can only spew out a few vowels in response.

"It's fine, you're alright, and you'll be alright. Just tell me what you can."

"I- uhhh," tell you what he can? Sure thing, "you see, I..."

"I... I like... you...?"

That was not the response you were expecting.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @gamergirl029

HEREEE IT IS I'm so sorry that your request took so long, I don't know why I took so long 😭🙏 THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE. You are amazing!!!

[f1goat]

his teammate + lando norris x part eight

In which you find yourself getting closer to your brothers new teammate who's a dick.

lando norris x fem!verstappen (sister) + cursewords + smut

masterlist x playlist

When Lando wakes up, he is quick to feel really satisfied. It wasn’t a dream or just drunken hallucinations. You’re actually here and still lying in his bed next to him. It’s insane how good that feels. Your head lies onto his torso. Lando can’t resist himself from softly taking a strand of your hair into his fingers. He plays a bit with it while he watches you. It amazes him that you’re really here. Here in his bed with him. Yesterday feels like some sort of dream, but he’s more then happy that it’s not.

You slowly open your eyes. The first seconds you almost panic. Why are you not in your own hotel room? Slowly you start to remember the events of last night. The way you were the one to initiate the first kiss between you and Lando, the way he made you all worked up into a small toilet stall and all the things he did to you later in his hotel room. Fuck. You’re in deep trouble, but maybe the most troubling part is that you don’t regret one tiny bit. You’d do it again in no time.

“Hi,” you whisper softly to Lando when you look at him. You notice that he is already looking at you. You feel your cheeks reddening for a bit while realizing that. 

“Hey princess,” Lando replies to you. He scans your face to find out what you’re thinking right now. He knows for sure that you weren’t too drunk last night, but he’s still afraid that you regret it. He can’t find any signs of regret on your face, but he doesn’t know if he can trust himself on that. 

You let out a yawn. Lando laughs softly. You don’t know what to say to him, so you decide to press your face in his chest. it’s comfortable and warm. You could fall asleep like this again. Lando strokes your hair. 

“I could fall asleep all over again like this,” you tell Lando jokingly. 

“I won’t stop you,” he says, “but we do have a flight to catch in a couple hours.” 

Fuck. Of course. You still need to pack for the flight and after your outfit stress from yesterday, your hotel room is a big mess. You let out a sigh while you get up. Lando is quick to look at you questioning. 

“My room is a big mess,” you explain, “and I still need to pack my luggage.” 

Lando laughs. He pulls you back onto his chest. His arms are wrapped around your body. He presses a soft kiss against your forehead. “5 more minutes?” He asks sweetly. You can’t deny him and are quick to lay down again. 

A few minutes later you’re tangled in bed with Lando. Those five minutes already turned into ten minutes. Lando is drawing figures on your back, his hand keeps getting lower. You know that you need to get out of bed and pack your suitcase, but you don’t want to leave the warm bed and Lando. Certainly not when his hand suddenly grabs your ass. Surprised you let out a soft moan when he starts kneading it. 

“A few more minutes?” Lando asks you with a small smile. You can only nod as an answer. Lando smirks. He is quick to changes positions with you. In no time he’s hovering over you, while you’re lying on your back onto the bed. He presses a kiss against your forehead before bringing his lips to yours. 

While kissing Lando, you let your hands discover his body a bit more. Slowly you run them around his bare chest. He’s even more muscled then you already thought. You let out a soft whine when Lando stops kissing you. That whine is quickly forgotten when you feel his mouth sucking at your nipple. 

You move your hands a bit more downwards. Without warning Lando you take his member into your hands. Slowly you start to stroke him. Lando is quick to let out a soft moan. In the mean time his hand finds your pussy. He teases you a bit by softly touching your clit and making you wait for him to continue.

“Ever had slow morning sex?” He asks you. 

You shake your head. 

“Me neither,” Lando confesses. He takes his member out of your hands, slowly he lets himself slide into you. You let out a moan when he’s deeply inside of you. Lando continues to move slowly in and outside of you. 

+++

“I think we need to talk about everything what happened, right?”

Lando waited for this moment. You have said the words he has been dreading to say all morning. The five minutes turned into ten and ten into another make out session which eventually turned into soft, slow morning sex. He never had sex like that. Normally he’s always for the quick fuck, but with you he wants to take all the time of the world. After that he told you that he would help you pack, since it was a bit of his fault that you still were at his room. 

So he’s currently standing in the middle of your hotel room. You did tell him it was a mess, but it’s even a bigger mess then he thought. There are clothes everywhere. But that isn’t the mess he’s worried about, he’s more worried about what mess your question will cause. What kind of conversation will follow? 

“Uh yeah,” Lando eventually answers you, he can’t help himself and shoots you a question next. “Do you regret it?” He feels nervous while waiting for your answer. What if you do regret it? What if this was some sort of one time thing? Fuck that would be a karma action. He always uses girls for one time things, he would deserve it that you used him for that as well. But still. He feels how he’s getting a bit panicked while looking at you. 

You look at Lando with frowned eyebrows. You notice his panicked glaze at you. What’s going on? Is he really stressing this much because of it? You know you should answer Lando and stop his stressing, but you’re still thinking about how to tell him what’s on your mind. 

“Babygirl?” Lando questions you. 

You know it’s time to answer. But you’re still wondering what to say. Lando keeps looking at you. You notice how he seems even more stressed then before. Without saying anything, you walk towards Lando. You put your arms around your body and cuddle him. Lando instantly relaxes a bit in your arms. You feel how his tense body is slowly getting a bit more relaxed again. 

“Relax Lan,” you tell him slowly, “I don’t regret anything that happened between us.”

“But?” Lando is quick to question. 

“But I don’t know how to continue this,” you tell him honestly. Before Lando can ask a question, you continue to talk. “I don’t even want to know how Max will respond to this,” you explain, “and then you have the media and all the fans. You’re having a bad image you know, what if everyone thinks that you’re using me? What if it causes everyone to think bad about you?” 

“I don’t care about that,” Lando replies, “Let them think about me what they want.”

“And did you ever notice how much hate the girls get for dating drivers? I already get a lot of hate because I’m Max sister, but if anyone finds out they’ll hate me even more,” you add.

“What do you mean? Are people leaving hate comments to you?” Lando asks confused, “Why would they do that?”

You ignore his question. “I really like you Lan, but this will bring so much trouble.”

“So you don’t want to explore this feeling?” Lando asks you a bit down. 

You grab Lando his hand. Slowly you traces figures onto his skin. “Let me talk okay, let me explain,” you tell him, hinting that he needs to stop interrupting. “You need to know that I don’t regret anything Lan. If I’d regret yesterday night, then why would I have sex with you again this morning?” You wait a couple seconds before you continue, hoping your words will sink in with Lando.

“The thing is, we don’t know what will happen next. I mean we we’re fighting only a week or so ago. The thing I do know is how much trouble this will bring. Max is probably going to kill you when he finds out, media are going insane and RedBull will hate us for that and the fans are going to hate me,” you explain, “and I need to know if you think it’s worth all that trouble when we don’t even know ourselves which direction this is going.”

“I want everything you’re willing to give me,” Lando states, “I don’t care if it’s some sort of secret relationship or a public relationship.” 

“Maybe we can figure this out privately first?” You suggest. 

Lando gives you a surprised look. “What do you mean?” He asks, “Are you willing to try this? To try us?”

You show him a small smile and press a kiss against his cheek. “Yes,” you answer. Lando pulls you closer against himself and presses his lips against yours. “Thank god,” Lando mutters softly after pulling back, “thank fucking god.”

“But we need to make sure no one finds out,” you say, “except your friend Max of course, since he already knows.”

“What are you going to tell your brother, I mean he’ll figure out that you’re spending time with me eventually?” Lando asks you. 

“I don’t know yet, I’ll think of something,” you sigh, “but when we’re ready to tell people, Max is the first one to hear.”

Lando nods as an agreement. 

“And now you really need to help me pack, because otherwise we will miss this flight,” you tell Lando while laughing. He apparently disagrees with your words, because he takes your attention from packing away again by kissing you.

+++

“Why did you go home early last night?” Max asks you. He’s sitting in front of you in his private jet. Kelly is sleeping next to him. Since Max wanted to strengthen his bond with his new teammate, he invited Lando on the plane as well. Meaning that you’re sitting next to Lando currently. This is already awkward. 

“I wasn’t feeling it,” you tell Max, “I was tired and wanted to sleep.”

“What about Pierre?” Max asks you, “Wasn’t he nice?”

You see how Lando his body tenses next to you. It’s hard to miss, but Max doesn’t seem to notice it. You’re glad that Kelly is asleep, since she has a better eye for those things then your brother.

“He was so boring,” you state, “I’m sorry Max but you need to stop playing matchmaker when you’re drunk. You have no idea who to match with me.”

“What’s wrong with Pierre?” Max asks.

Lando can’t stop himself and let’s out a soft snort. If you ask him, there’s a lot wrong with Pierre. Max looks up at him but doesn’t question it. You look at him as well. Doesn’t Lando like Pierre as well?

“Come on Max,” you laugh, “Pierre only talks about himself and about how he still deserves the RedBull seat next to you. Maybe that he’s different with you because he needs you to manage that.”

“Is he that bad?” Max asks you with a soft laugh.

“He didn’t ask me one question,” you reply.

“Hm, I’ll find someone else next time,” Max tells you jokingly. You know by the tone of his voice that he’s joking, but Lando doesn’t realize that. You notice how he’s tensing up again. With a careful movement you lay your hand on his leg. Lando is quick to grab your hand with his own, holding it tightly. 

“Please don’t,” you tell Max.

Max laughs. “Sorry,” he says, “but I do think that Pierre is still interested. He texted me for your number.”

“Did you give it?” You ask.

“No, I told him he could ask you yourself.”

“Thank god,” you reply relieved.

When you feel your phone vibrate against your leg, you pull it out of your pocket surprised. You notice a new text message. When you unlock your phone a second one comes in. You take back the ‘thank god’ you said before. Who gave Pierre your number? Fuck. 

Unknown number: Hi! Let’s do something together this week. Maybe dinner?

Unknown number: It’s Pierre btw

You didn’t notice that Lando read along with you. He lets go of your hand while letting out an annoyed sigh. You look at him, he doesn’t look back at you. It’s kinda obvious that he’s annoyed, but it’s not like you can do anything about it.

“Who could have given my number to Pierre? He just texted me,” you ask your brother.

“I don’t know,” Max replies confused, “That’s weird.”

You typ back to Pierre.

Y/N: hey, how did you get my number?

Pierre is quick to respond again, you barely have time to tell Max that you asked Pierre how he got your number.

Pierre: Daniel

“Daniel apparently,” you tell Max. Lando feels annoyed by his previous teammate, but he’s even more annoyed by Pierre. He knew dating you wouldn’t be easy - certainly not when it’s a secret, but he didn’t expect to be confronted with another boy this fast. He tries to forget about his feelings for a bit, but he can’t stop negative thoughts from floating in his head. What if you’ll like Pierre more eventually? 

“What did Pierre text you?” Max asks further.

“He wants to take me out for dinner,” you answer.

“And?”

“And what?” You ask confused.

“Are you going to have dinner with him?” Max questions.

You stay silent. Of course you don’t want to go out for dinner with Pierre. You would rather do something like that with Lando, but you can’t tell your brother that. Lando is looking at you as well in the mean time, he waits for you to answer. What if you’re going to have a date with Pierre? He’s already afraid for what will happen then. Maybe Pierre will be a true gentleman, something Lando can’t be, or maybe you’ll realize that Pierre is well liked and a safe option instead of him. 

“I don’t think so,” you say eventually, “I don’t like him and I don’t want to give him hope that I do.”

“You can give him a chance?” Max offers. Lando lets out a scoff. He was happy with your answer, but now your brother is pushing you to date Pierre. Fucking hell. 

“No,” you tell Max, “I saw way too many red flags already yesterday, he isn’t worth another chance.”

Max chuckles. “You’ll stay single forever,” he tells you jokingly.

You should know, you think bitterly. It hurts you to keep a secret this big for Max. You don’t know how long you can manage this. Is it even worth it? When you feel Lando his hand grabbing yours again and see his relieved facial expression, you realize that he is worth it. Max can wait for a bit and you can manage this.

part nine

[viviswtings]

Alcohol wet.

So I've just been drawing Neteyam like the simp I am, and it's going great. He's inspiring me so much I got to write a whole thing for him.

Words: 2627.

Warnings: suggestive fluff? Is that a thing? Also not proof-read. Just finished and posted. English isn't my first language and there are words I'm iffy about all over. Tell me if something doesn't make sense.

The characters are aged up. Like, in their twenties sort of aged up. Don't come after me. Or do. Idk.

“Shit, you’re beautiful “

He exhaled against her face, his breath smelling of the sweet, fruity liquor he had been sipping all night.

Up until this point he had been slurring his words, letting them fall off his purple stained lips, all buttery and soft- his speech, that is- without seemingly any care for if she could understand them or not.

But this. This he said clearly. Like a cloudless day, after a particularly dark eclipse. She understood every single word, and she was exhilarated when she did.

How sweet his voice came out, how his plushy, swollen lips had caressed every word like he knew exactly what place in her heart they were meant to fit into. Taking that little space she had once made for him and making it bigger and bigger, so all her feelings may fit within her chest.

He was staring at her from up close, his nose almost touching hers. Those big, golden eyes that let her see her own reflection in the dilated pupil. She hoped he meant it, that, in his eyes, she truly was beautiful.

But alcohol did its thing as the warrior pursed hisr lips and got closer. She turned her head as quickly as she realized, for she had reacted too slowly, having been immersed in his gaze and almost gotten lost in it.

The peck on her cheek was wet, and she couldn’t help but laugh at the distressed sound off Neteyam’s chest once he figured he had failed his attempt. Leaning back to look at him, it was impossible not to smile.

His face was turned towards the ground, while his stare remained on her, brow furrowed and lips pouted. His ears, now flushing almost pink, laid tense flat against his braided hair, all the muscles in his body were tense as his tail flicked from side to side behind him. It was comical. The great, mighty warrior Neteyam te Suli was butthurt. Because she had denied him a kiss.

Maybe it was right at this very moment that a part of her mind, in the furthest back off it, has come to understand she had some power over him. But perhaps she didn’t, and it was all the liquor’s fault, for it had made her delusional.

Seconds in silence had passed, which, given the previous circumstances, was unusual. The young warrior had started bragging about all his feats as soon as the alcohol had settled in. Talking nonsense about how his father barely had to teach him anything, how he was a natural, fishing when he was still using a children’s bow, being the youngest hunter to make his first kill and finishing his ikniyama at the ripe age of just thirteen years old. He almost made her ears fall off, but she did have a special soft spot for him and his slurred, rhythmic and almost-purr like nonsense. So, she had listened attentively all the same.

“Do you not want me?” Was the first thing that left his lips after his failed strategy. She did not expect the look of doubt carved into his features. Like his worst nightmare had become true, like he was… afraid.

Her heart skipped various beats that made her throat close, so no words could come out. She couldn’t flat out reject him just because he was drunk, but saying she did-and oh, she did want him- would risk him not remembering the next morning. Even worse, he could regret it, stop talking to her altogether and leave her with the hope of finally fulfilling her one wish.

It could also escalate and she was not about to take advantage of a drunken man twice her size.

“Nete” Her voice came out as an exhale, like she had been holding her breath all along. “You… ask me tomorrow” Was her final answer, hushed, but with a bit more confidence. If he didn’t ask, she could just presume he didn’t remember and not risk her own heart being shattered.

His ears twitched, his tail stopped, and he got closer again, to which she retreated, trying to avert his eyes. What would happen if she even dared to look back at him? It scared her, so she didn’t.

Then the rough skin of his fingertips came in contact with her forearms, making the hairs on the back of her head rise up and her body tense even more.

“I will” He pressed another kiss to her cheek, a little bit further away from the corner of her mouth, much softer and velvety and leaving no trace of wetness. At least, not on her cheek.

“Alright” She muttered, barely above a whisper, much too afraid of the people around them finding out the oloe’ytakan talking in such an intimate way with her. Both of his hands on her, caressing the skin of her knuckles with his thumb while he kept hold of her forearm, as if to keep her close, to not let her distance herself too much.

He had been resting his chin on her shoulder, face almost cradled in the hollow of her neck, when he was rudely interrupted by a deep, guttural grunt he knew all too well. It would’ve had him standing straight and knocking the air off him in any other situation. But Neteyam was way too comfortable, skin all warm, hands busy and mind fuzzy with the sweetest smell.

Then he felt a hand around his neck, the woman almost under him getting impossibly straight and tense when she pulled her arms away from him. Breath tickled his ear, making him uncomfortable. “Up, boy. Don’t make me repeat myself”.

So he did. All his body screamed against it, but Neteyam got up, not looking down, unable to see the flustered girl he had left on the ground, fidgeting with her tail and head low in shame. He would’ve sobered up in a second if he had. Or so he’d most likely want to believe.

But the older man did see her. As a matter of fact, he always saw her, he did see all of the members of the clan, old or young, gatherer or warrior, it was his duty. He took pride in it. He loved his people.

But that girl, ever since she arrived, she had his eldest running around like a headless chicken. He wasn’t blind, nor a fool, the kid was sweet and very pretty indeed. That, and he knew better than to meddle with young passions, given his own record. His son had crossed a line, though. As he himself had witnessed his son make a fool of himself all night.

“C’mere, sweetheart” He offered his hand to the girl, smiling her way when she looked up at him. “How about we walk you home and I’ll take care of this one for the night”.

She smiled back, taking the five-fingered hand with her own, to which Jake pulled her up, ready in case he had to help her with her balance. But she did just fine, maybe a bit wobbly on her feet, but not a major inconvenience.

The walk to her hut was almost silent, with Neteyam’s head hanging low, too immersed in his own thoughts to even mind his step. If he didn’t know the paths of High Camp like the back of his hand, he might have found it really difficult to find his footing.

Jake only ever broke the silence with politeness, asking how they were doing- to which his son only grumbled-, and making small talk with the girl. He knew her just enough to know what to ask and keep the light smile with jokes as long as the small walk lasted. If he could make his girls laugh, this one shouldn’t have been too much different. Thankfully, he was right.

Once they got to their destination, he stepped back, leaving way for his son so he may have his privacy.

Neteyam knew he should thank his father for the chance, but forgot all about it once he had to put two words together.

“I will ask” He repeated, lowering his eyes to meet her own. He had thought about what he should say all the way there, yet he found himself dumbfounded, incapable of remembering a single thing.

“Alright” She answered back, just as she did before, hands clasping in front of her, knuckles a yellowish shade of green as she gripped onto her own fingers, her nails drawing recent shapes on her palm.

“You will accept” He sounded far more confident than his beating heart would’ve ever let her know. But this surge of confidence lasted long enough for him to hold her hands in his, so she wouldn’t hurt herself anymore. “Then I’ll have you, as you have me”.

She was choking on thin air. The way he was staring her down, brow stern and lips sealed tightly into a line, while making those statements as if he already knew. As if he was laying his head against her chest and hearing her breath catch and her heart beating furiously against her ribs. Like it was the only possible, reasonable outcome.

She had him? Never in her life had she dared to bluff such nonsense. While every young woman almost paraded around him: the nicest singers, the prettiest dancers, the most skilled healers… Every single woman with the least bit of status within High Camp took the slightest chance to be near him. She simply existed, not particularly away from him, but afraid to get so close it would end up hurting her.

Why wouldn’t they? She may laugh at her “mighty warrior” comments, but she knew they were true. He was mighty, and as tall as he was slim, agile and strong. His hair was thick and his hands looked almost heavenly when he put it up for hunting parties, his long neck and the line of his shoulders in display while the muscles in his back flexed, almost knocking the air out of her lungs.

Just as he did now. Luminous freckles making a soft path around his features, down his nose and over his cupid’s bow. He felt so soft pressed to her skin it made her tail move behind her nervously and her loins burn.

“Can I kiss you?”

He had gotten closer to her face once against, big eyes open in question, as he now held her by her arms, pulling her just a tad bit closer as he waited for an answer. If his father had heard him, he didn’t show. He cut her short before she could attempt to answer. “Not your lips”. The remark caught her off guard, but she didn’t know how to mind while he kept his beautiful, gleaming irises on her, like an expecting child asking to go play.

So, she nodded, in fear her words would fail her. Pushing far the thought of the man’s father being mere feet away. How could she deny him? Was she even supposed to? She did want him to kiss her, even though it felt wrong, knowing he was under the effects of the drink he had been having. A kiss it’s just a kiss, isn’t it? It only has the meaning you want to grant it.

All her facade fell precariously as Neteyam’s hands caressed her arms, heavy and warm, up to her shoulders, making her shiver as they made their home on her neck and held her jaw with his thumbs. Keeping her right where he wanted.

He kissed her left cheek, slowly, without making a noise, and she felt his eyelashes against her burning skin. When he went to the other cheek, she saw his eyes closing softly, as he pulled her closer by her neck. She let herself go, closing her own while his lips kissed her. As he looked at her again, she found her own hands clasping around his arms and a smile on his face. He kissed the bridge of her nose, letting out an amused huff.

His fingers made way into her hair, massaging her scalp, when she felt them lightly touch the base of her queue. Her whole body arched involuntarily into his, making her eyes close with her lips parted as he kissed her one last time in the middle of her forehead.

She looked delectable and Neteyam felt famished. Like a starved man, just torturing himself with the meal he could not have, as it wasn’t his for the taking.

He hadn’t meant to hold her like that, but the hazy look on her face had him in a chokehold and he couldn’t help himself. By the time he felt her queue against his fingers he knew he was utterly fucked. The way she molded against him, throwing her head back while she held onto him like a lifeline, her tail caressing his thigh absent-mindedly, just letting herself go in his arms like that. How was he to keep himself away from her, his father here or not. It was only her word holding him back from devouring her whole, just as she was right now.

He knew better than to approach a woman when she had drunk, but he also knew better than to drink himself stupid and there he was. If it wasn’t because he was holding onto her as much as she was onto him, he’d probably be face first on the dirt.

“Neteyam.” What a damn beautiful sound she had just made. He opened his eyes, pulling himself with all his might so he could look at her. “You should head home”. Home? Where was that place again? He’d rather not remember the way back and stay the night. But she wouldn’t have him, not then. “Your father is waiting”.

“Damn him.”  He thought out loud. “He can wait”.

She let out the giddiest of laughs and his heart could explode for all he cared.

“We can talk tomorrow”. He already knew. But right in that moment he felt nauseous at the thought of parting. Might as well hold onto her like a child so she’d coo him to sleep and calm all his worries.

“We will.” He remarked, kissing her forehead again.

“I know”. She ushered. “So go and sleep, so tomorrow may come sooner.”

Neteyam looked at her, like he had done so many times. At her pleasing features and her dimpled smile that reached her eyes. The Great Mother had made her all for him, he had no doubt. She couldn’t have made the most precious creature just to rip it away from him. She’d accept him, take him for herself and he’d be the happiest man.

But, of course, he couldn’t drag the whole affair forever. His father was, indeed, waiting for him and his patience was running thin. “Kid, c’mon. You need a nap.”

So, he hugged her, tightly, so close to him she would feel his heart against hers. He needed a home for it inside her, he reasoned, that’s why it yearned for her so much.

When he let go, she felt shaky. Her pupils inspected his face, but she let go rather easily. Her parted mouth was screaming for him, but he couldn’t drag the affair any longer, so he let her go. His hands fell on his sides in fists and he turned around, with a willpower only years under his father’s stern stare could accomplish.

He felt the man’s hand on his back, cold and somehow soothing against the burning skin of his shoulders. Like a kid, he let his father’s presence reassure him, he’d be fine. Even if it meant another night tossing and turning thinking of her, and now the very real prospect of her skin against his and her lips on his, her legs around his waist…

“Let’s get you home, kid”.

He definitely had to get home.

[companionhell]

I'm a slut for the 'overheard conversation' trope so like,,, romanced companions react to overhearing a nervous Sole as they're practicing their proposal speech? Bonus if Sole is ramble monologuing out loud they're worried it's not good enough for their amazing bf/gf. Just some nice fluff to make your day bright. ((Only if you want to of course. Love ur work, m8))

This ended up pretty long, so I put it under a read more. Enjoy! :)

Cait: Cait’s hearing wasn’t the best after years in the deafening Combat Zone, but Sole wasn’t exactly speaking quietly. So she listened in pretty damn easily-- who in god’s name was Sole talking to, anyway?

“Cait, darling,” Sole said, then paused. Cait strained to hear more, interested by the mention of her name, but the next few words were mumbled. The next she heard was the middle of a sentence: “--start over. Look, I know this isn’t… this maybe isn’t what you were expecting. I don’t know. This stuff is different, after the war. But I can’t think… shit, no, that’s bad.” Sole took a rattling breath, and Cait stepped closer over squeaky floorboards-- what was all this about? “You’re just… Cait, you’re everything to me, and I’m so in love with you, and I just… I wanna marry you.”

Sole jumped when Cait opened the door, looking her lover in the eyes. “You… you just said… you want to marry me? That’s… you really mean that?” Cait’s eyebrows were raised in absolute surprise, and when Sole nodded nervously, Cait broke into a genuine smile. “Never thought I’d be the marryin’ type,” she said, pulling Sole into a kiss. “But, if you really want it… I don’t think you know how much this means to me.”

Curie: Curie did have some manners programmed into her, but her intense desire to learn more about people in general (and Sole in particular) won out. She’d never understood talking to yourself, and she hoped to figure out more by listening in on Sole from the next room, thinking of it more as scientific observation than eavesdropping. It was quite a fascinating habit, after all!

But after only a minute or two, Curie quickly figured out what was going on. “Curie, my love. I don’t know… Okay, not that. Um, there’s a human tradition I’d like you to participate in. With me. It’s to show how much I love you, to promise I’ll stay with you forever… alright, that’s a little better.” Curie started smiling behind her hands, unable to contain the butterflies of excitement in her stomach. Ignoring Sole’s next mutterings about how she deserved a better speech, Curie made her way to their bedroom with a lovestruck expression.

“Oh, mon p’tit chou!” Curie exclaimed. Sole stood at the mirror, holding what looked like a pre-war ring, surprise and embarrassment filling their face as they realized that Curie had heard. She didn’t care that she’d flustered them, though, and clasped her hands to her chest. “Is it true, my love?” Once having received Sole’s affirmation, Curie pressed light kisses on their face in quick succession, speaking in between: “Oh, I love you. I feel my heart may burst- I never knew there could be such bliss.”

Danse: Danse wasn’t really consciously eavesdropping. The house’s walls were thin, and he was just drawing out possible modifications in the next room when he heard Sole talking to themselves. He didn’t think much of it at first- they talked in their sleep, after all. It was likely just another unthinking habit of theirs, so he barely processed their words while he concentrated.

“This needs to be good.. I can’t… ah, damn, I’m going to mess this up.” Danse heard the nervousness in Sole’s voice and momentarily forgot his work, eyebrows furrowing. “Alright. Recent events have been… uh, difficult. For all of us. And I know you’ve been taking time to sort everything out. I have been, too. I was just dropped into the apocalypse without my family, and since then, it’s mostly only gotten worse.” Danse put down the pen and stood, hesitating. He didn’t know what to do, but Sole spoke again. “But if there’s one part of this world I couldn’t live without, it’s… it’s you, Danse. You’re more important to me than words could say. I’m in love with you. And I’ve been thinking about it, and I want to marry you.”

Sole stopped talking, interrupted by loud footsteps rounding the corner and the door slamming open. Danse stood there, flustered and mouth agape, eyes surprised and confused. “Did you… Did you just say you want to marry me?” Sole, more shocked than embarrassed, repeated their proposal, and Danse moved to hold them close, arms wound snugly around the person who’d, months before, saved his life. “I… I can’t explain to you how much that means to me. It’s… a lot to think about, but… I can’t imagine facing the world without you.”

Deacon: Deacon knew something was up with Sole from the minute he heard them talking to themselves. He stepped silently to the end of the hallway, avoiding the squeaky floorboards whose locations he’d memorized, and stopped by the doorway. Deacon steadied his breathing, shifted the center of his weight, and listened.

“Deacon, I…” There was a deep exhale. Deacon’s heart jumped for a moment- had he been seen? But no, Sole continued. “I need to tell you that in this insane world, one of the first things I learned was not to trust anybody. But I can’t help but feel that you’re… different, I guess. Shit, I need another word… you’re… you make this big show about lying a lot, but you don’t bullshit about your beliefs. You don’t bullshit about how fucked-up all this is, and you don’t bullshit about where you came from, and that makes you more genuine than nine-tenths of the people here. I’ve fallen in love with you, Deacon, and I wanna marry you.”

Deacon couldn’t stop himself from inhaling sharply. He… he needed to go think about it. So he quietly made his way outside, lighting a cigarette and staring into the post-apocalyptic wilderness. And Deacon thought- he thought about Barbara, and about the love he’d been so happy to find in Sole, and about himself. Could he commit to moving on? Would Barbara have wanted him to? Did it matter? The next few days were more solemn for him than usual, as he made his decision. And he was glad he’d thought about it- glad that, when Sole finally got it together and proposed, he was able to finally say yes.

Gage: Gage wasn’t really the stealthy type. Looking for Sole, he checked every room in the house, finally walking to their shared bedroom. He didn’t even bother trying to muffle his steps, and considering the heavy-ass cage armor he wore, Gage was pretty damn loud. So when he saw that Sole hadn’t even noticed said clunking footsteps, and that they were so focused on muttering to themselves that they hadn’t turned around to see him, Gage had to listen in.

The first few seconds was just Sole swearing before sighing heavily. “Gage… It’s been a wild ride.” What the hell did that mean? Gage didn’t have time to think about it too much before Sole shook their head and moved on. “This world is fucking insane, and- I don’t think the people are more untrustworthy. I think they’re just more honest about it. Anyway, it was kinda a culture shock. But after wandering in the wasteland, I found my place. At Nuka-World. As leader of the raiders. Gage, I found my place with you.” His eyebrows shot up. Their relationship usually didn’t involve this kinda sappy shit- but this felt more important than usual. “I… I love you, Porter. And I know it’s not a raider ‘thing,’ but fuck it- I’m the Overboss, and I say what I want, so I wanna get married.”

“Damn, Sole,” Gage said, crossing his arms. Sole couldn’t ignore that one. They turned, clearly flustered at the interruption, and opened their mouth to speak- “Nah, gimme a minute, boss. Shit, Sole, that was somethin’ else. And… I guess marryin’ always seemed like bleeding heart bullshit to me, but… you are friggin’ amazing, boss, and if I’m stickin’ with anybody for life, ain’t nobody I’d rather be with than you.” He smiled, kind of sheepishly, and when Sole came over to embrace him, Gage held them tighter than he ever had before.

Hancock: Yeah, okay, Hancock was being kinda sneaky. But the ghoul had damn good ears (what was left of ‘em, anyways), and couldn’t help but try to listen when he heard muttering coming from the room he shared with Sole. So there he was, half-crouched in the hallway, straining to hear what his significant other was saying. This wouldn’t be as hard if Sole wasn’t speaking so damn quiet, anyway.

“John.” That was the first word Hancock heard, and he was already paying attention. Sole only called him that when they were being serious- a couple of near-death scenarios, a heartfelt conversation or two, maybe a few (or more) of their nights together. “My love, I know… commitment isn’t your thing. I understand. And I know you’re doing a lot more of that than usual for me-- I’ve seen you turning down hopefuls from Goodneighbor up to Far Harbor. But I just… I love you, John, and it would mean a lot…” A pause, and a heavy sigh. “Fuck it, I’m never gonna do this right.”

Hancock had inched close enough to the threshold to see Sole staring at their hands- was that a ring glinting in the light? His breath caught in his throat and before he knew it he was tip-toeing outside, somewhere open, somewhere else. He rummaged in his bag for something to take the edge off, but nothing seemed right-- Jet to slow the hell down or Mentats to think clearly? Hancock settled on both, and he sat there and thought for what felt like hours. From the minute he woke up from his radioactive dose he’d never expected anyone to wanna deal with him for much longer than a night or two. Sole was the wrench in that plan… and the best damn thing that’d ever happened to him. Oh, Hancock had made his decision when Sole was the first person he’d sincerely told he loved them since childhood. And when they finally got their act together and asked him, he might as well confirm it.

MacCready: MacCready was about to amble into the room, looking for a comic he’d misplaced- he was sure he’d last been reading it in bed- then heard Sole talking. He stopped instinctively, pausing at the door to listen. Was… anybody else in there with them? No, it seemed like the only one speaking was an increasingly frustrated Sole. MacCready debated with himself for a minute, then elected to stay there, leaning closer to the door to better hear.

“RJ, you gave me something a while back. Something that meant a lot to you.” Were they talking about the toy soldier? What the heck was going on? MacCready edged closer. Sole was sitting on the bed, turning something over in their hands. “It’s time for me to… No, that’s stupid. Um, I want to give something to you too. I love you, RJ. We’ve both lost a lot, but I think it’s best we look to the future. Together.” They slumped, muttering something about how they sounded like an idiot, and MacCready finally caught a glimpse of what they were holding. A ring. Identical to the one they always wore.

He felt tears burning his eyes. After Lucy, he thought he’d always be alone. And here came Sole, who’d not only saved his life and his son’s, but also made him happy for the first time in years. Not barely getting by, not ignoring his pain, but truly happy. “Hey, handsome/beautiful,” he said, crossing the threshold. He laughed at Sole’s shocked expression, and found himself unable to stop smiling. “I definitely don’t deserve someone as good as you, but… hey, if you wanna keep this little thing we have going forever, well, who am I to say no?”

Nick: Alright, Nick had a sneaky bone or two. You had to in his line of business. But he made a point of not going digging through Sole’s dirty laundry, so he tried his absolute hardest to be as not-nosy as possible when he heard them talking from the bedroom. But good god, were they talking for a long time. And loudly. He walked down the hallway, fully intending to alert Sole to his presence, mind you, but heard them say his name. He stopped. What on earth were they on about?

“Nick, I wanted… no.” Sole took a deep breath. “Nick. My love. You’re the best man in the Commonwealth, synth or not. You’re compassionate, and caring, and funny as hell. And I…” They paused, as if thinking. Nick watched from the doorway. Sole was looking into the mirror, staring at themself, and shook their head. “I’m not good enough for you. But… I love you, Nick. And I kinda want to stick together. ‘Long as I’m kicking, anyway. There doesn’t need to be any ceremony or anything if you don’t want to-–”

Nick didn’t hear anything after that. Ceremony? He retreated back down the hallway, as quietly as he came, and sat on the front stoop. Lit up a cigarette. Watched the sunset and the comings and goings of the neighbors. He thought for a long time, examining his reluctance to marry Sole-- the best thing that had happened to him in his decades wandering the Commonwealth. It wasn’t Jenny. God knows she’d have wanted him to move on years ago. And it wasn’t a lack of love. Sole was all an old bot could ask for– the luckiest day of his life was the day they crawled outta that cryo-pod. It had more to do with his disbelief that a stunner like Sole would want to be tied down to a run-down synth with a bum hand and a hole in his neck. He didn’t deserve them. But hey, it was their choice, he thought, looking up at the stars. He’d marry them, alright. And he’d follow wherever they led.

Piper: Piper grinned when she heard Blue mumbling in the bedroom. Their sleeptalking was always priceless. She grabbed a pad of paper from her pocket and slowly eased her way down the hallway, careful not to make too much noise. Sole was a light sleeper. Piper peeked around the door, her playfulness rapidly turning to confusion as she saw that Sole wasn’t asleep, after all. They were sitting on the bed, turned away from her, but still speaking softly. What the heck were they doing?

Sole looked deep in thought. “Maybe start out with… Piper, you’re hard on yourself. Hmm… no, that’s no good.” What? Piper was hard on herself? She leaned in closer to hear. She had good ears, but Blue was barely speaking audibly. Sole kept going. “I know you think of yourself as loud and pushy, but what I see is the kindest woman I’ve ever met. You’re confident, you’re honest, and you’re determined to do good in the world.” Sole looked down at something they held in their hands. “And I know the institution of marriage probably isn’t important to you– or to the Commonwealth, generally– but I thought I’d ask– no, that’s wrong…”

As Sole continued workshopping their phrasing, Piper’s jaw dropped. Marriage? She sidled into the bedroom, purposefully stepping loudly, and saw a glint of gold in Blue’s hands. “Blue!” she said too loudly, startling Sole, who nearly dropped the ring. “Oh, I, uh– Damn it, I’m sorry, Blue, I messed up your moment.” Piper came closer, cupping Sole’s face in her hands. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” She kissed their forehead, smiling at their still-shocked face as she pulled away. “My answer is yes. I will marry you, Blue.”

Preston: Preston definitely hadn’t meant to overhear anything. He’d woken up with his arms empty. Sole wasn’t there. Not too unusual– sometimes they got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. Still, it was hard to sleep without Sole next to him. Groggily, he lifted his head off the pillow and looked around. It was dark. No moonlight shone through the window. But under the bathroom door, there was a crack of light. And through the wall, he could swear he heard… mumbling?

Preston frowned. It had been about a year since they’d taken down the Institute– since Shaun had died. He couldn’t imagine that kind of pain. He’d woken up before to find them crying, silently, in his arms, and done his best to comfort them. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and rolled out of bed, crossing quietly to the bathroom door. Inside, he could hear Sole speaking. He paused for a second to listen. “Preston, I– I don’t think I can… no, that’s no good.” Preston furrowed his eyebrows, lifted his hand up to knock, but was interrupted when Sole started speaking again. “I can’t express in words how much I love you. You’re– you’re kind, and loving, and sweet, and– shit, I’m rambling. Um–”

Preston smiled, leaning on the door so it swung open. “What are you…” He trailed off as he saw what Sole was holding. A ring. The ring that matched the one they always wore. Tears pricked at his eyes. “Are you… planning to propose? …To me?” When Sole confirmed it, Preston beamed. He didn’t think he’d ever stop smiling. He pulled Sole into a hug, pressing kisses against their temples and their forehead. “God, I love you. Of course I’ll marry you– if you’ll have me.”

X6-88: X6 was... concerned. When he and Sole spent an evening at Sanctuary, they usually spent their free time tinkering with their weapons or armor. Or catching up with the settlers. But this time, they’d simply given him a kiss and retreated straight to the bedroom. After two hours of messing with mods for his laser pistol, it seemed clear that Sole wouldn’t be joining him anytime soon. So he quietly trod down the hall. As he approached the bedroom door, he could hear Sole speaking.

“Why am I doing this anyway?” X6 moved closer. Had he done something to upset them? Why not talk to him about it? “He’ll think it’s too sentimental... shit. Maybe I can-- um, alright. X6.” He started, thinking for a moment that Sole had discovered him in the hallway, but they continued talking. Practicing talking to him? “You’re determined, you’re loyal, you’re funny. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And-- and it would mean a lot to me if-- well, you might not care about this kind of thing, but...”

“What kind of thing?” X6 asked, stepping into the room. Sole whipped around to look at him, too surprised to hide what they’d been holding. A gold ring. A wedding ring. X6 took a moment. Sole was right, in a way. He’d keep watching their back until the day he died, and he had never thought of needing a ring or a ceremony to prove it. But... Sole was the person he most cared for in the world. Maybe the only person he cared for. And if wearing a ring was important to them? He would proudly wear his loyalty to them on his finger. It was no object.

[iwishf1wasreal]

F1 Driver NSFW Profile: ✷ Lewis Hamilton ✷

smut ✷ 18+ readers only

I. Flirt. He’s a shy sort of suave. He wants to come off cool and laid back. Thank God he never has to worry if he’s dressed well. Lewis is all about eye contact, making sure to look over the frame of whatever sunglasses he’s wearing so he can hold your gaze. It’ll be hard for him to look away; maybe he’ll keep your eyes for as long as he can by looking back or walking backward. He’ll flash his million-dollar smile at you; make sure you know he’s noticed you too. If there are cameras around, he’s pretty much going to stand 40 feet away from you, but if it’s amongst the trusted inner circle or just the two of you, he is stuck to you like glue. When you first meet, he’s flirty in a relaxed sense; it won’t come across as him being particularly interested, just friendly. He takes his time sussing you out and getting a feel for you. But once he’s ready to make his intentions known, he’s laying on the charm. Making you laugh, taking any excuse to brush against you. II. Propositioning.   Warm hands caressing down your back, spending a generous amount of time on your ass before smoothing down your calves. He’ll peck kisses anywhere he can reach, his endless brown eyes meeting yours as his lips roam your body. Lewis wants to seduce and be seduced. He likes kissing–[loves] kissing. Has a hard time having sex [without] kissing. He wants your tongue hot and heavy in his mouth. Lewis likes to tease too. If the mood strikes and you start to put the moves on him, he'll play dumb. Straight up pretends not to notice, wait and see how far you’ll go before you push him down onto the sofa and straddle him.

III. Libido. It’s relatively high, but he’s also creeping up to his forties. Don’t get me wrong, he has no trouble getting (or maintaining) an erection, but it takes him a bit longer to get him up and ready…especially if it’s a night after drinking. So, he doesn’t mind a bit of soft play, whether it's your mouth or the soft glide of your hand. He’s not too picky. He feels so much closer to his partner during and after sex. Lewis feels like there’s no other connection in the world like it and would probably even be down to try sex magic if you were into that kind of thing. 

IV. Turn-Ons: tame & nasty. Tame: Expensive clothes. When you hold him close to whisper in his ear. Laughing with your head thrown back. A nice fitting pair of trousers. Pretty, fast cars. Private beaches and cabanas. Outdoor showers. Spoiling you. Facetime calls to show him what you’re wearing. Getting along with his mum and step-mum. Having inside jokes with his brother. Fitting right into a game of footy with his nieces and nephews. Musicality in any way, shape, or form. Shy silliness that he gets to draw out of you. Diamonds on bare skin.  Nasty: When he fucks you so good you can’t even get out a moan, and it looks like  you’re having a sexy exorcism. Pulling your panties to the side instead of just pulling them off. Lowkey always wants to get caught; fucks you with the windows of your cabana wide open, or herds you into the single stall. Tender love and care to his balls. When you tell him that his dick is the best you’ve ever had. Receiving unsolicited your nudes. Mutual masturbation. Lingerie sets with lace bras and satin panties. The way your ass kinda makes a heart-shape in certain positions of doggy. Titties in his mouth. Topless beaches with wandering hands. V. Self-stimulation. Ideally, he would be able to Facetime you, and you could figure out a solution together. He'll use a video if the timezone doesn’t permit that, and he’s not desperate enough to wake you or disturb you at work. He can still appreciate porn, but if he wants to finish, he’d prefer to do it to you. VI. Foreplay. He almost pays too much attention to foreplay. It’s like he’s in some kind of competition with himself to see how wet he can make you before he finally slips inside. As he’s come into adulthood, he’s realised how powerful the act of cunnilingus is. He has his own version of getting drunk off your sex, usually in the form of semi-incoherent philosophical babbles of how we’re all connected and how beautiful your pussy is.

VII. Rhythm. He likes to keep it fresh but prefers deep, unhurried sex. Taking your time getting to know each other and savouring the feeling of the two of you together. He’s not afraid to moan or let his nastiest thoughts roll off his tongue. Most often he’ll be asking how it feels, for you to be louder. He likes egging you on. VIII. How He Likes It He’s a classic man. Doggy has a special place in his heart. He likes plenty of other positions, too, of course. But there’s just something about getting to watch your ass shake as he disappears inside you. You bent over, wet and moaning and rutting back against him. Rarely do you get to feel like you have the upper hand on him–he’s got lightning fast reflexes, strength and confidence that often make you feel like he’s not even real. Except in the bedroom and he has your front pressed into the bed and you start to work to throw your hips back to meet his thrusts. He nearly busts right then and there every time. 

IX. Location, location, location. A hopeless romantic, ideally, he’d have rose petals all over the floor and candles littering the entire place. But that’s not always feasible, though he still tells you it’s what you deserve. And though he’d deny it, ducking his head to hide the burning on his cheeks but the hot tub seems to hold a special place in his heart. To the point where his buddies will point and giggle at it the second you’re aboard a yacht for the week or they notice it on the balcony through the curtains. Somehow, they always seem to be one on your holidays or hotel rooms. And you both do you best to use it to the best of your abilities.  X. Kinky. He’s open minded and easy to approach. He likes experimenting when he feels safe and he feels safest with you. Depending on the mood, he can be gently encouraging, complimenting and worshipping you into bliss. Or, he can be a little more demanding, a little less lenient and a little more mean. He’s good at playing. He likes playing…as long as you seem like you are too. Any fantasy you feel like trying, he’s all ears. Rarely will he outright deny you–about most things–especially sex.

XI. Bedroom aids/Toys He’s not stupid, obviously you use toys whilst he’s away or busy. He doesn’t mind adding them in with the both of you either. It really only took one time for him to watch your eyes roll back in your head after just two minutes on the second to highest setting. Lately, his latest exploration in the bedroom has involved plugs. Nothing gets his heart pumping blood to his crotch quite like when you bend over and reveal you’ve decided to surprise him with one. Something about the shimmer of something in your ass while he sheeths himself deep inside you feels like ecstasy. 

XII. Cum. He can go for a while. He’s old enough where he doesn't need to lay back and think of England. He would prefer to finish after you though with the ferocity of your sex life, it’s quite literally always a competition to get others to cum first. Ideally, he’d finish inside of you but obviously sometimes that’s not always fisable. Though, more than enough times have you two snuck off for a quickie and you’re left uncomfortably wet in your panties after.

XIII. Pleasure reciprocation. Lewis loves to go down on you. Likes hearing all your moans and whines and any other noise he can get you to make. When his focus is on you and getting you to cum, he turns into an assertive yet gentle figure. He has plans for you, he’d like for you to follow them. But he’s not above giving into your desperation or gently teasing you for how worked up you get. He can teeter more towards mean when he feels like it though rarely can keep it up. By the time you’ve finished, he’s melted back into his true self. Making sure you’re not too far gone or nothing got too out of hand. Despite it all though, he makes you feel like he’s hungry for you. Like just the site of you or your body could drive him wild enough to cloud all his thoughts.

XIV. Bonus.

“I wanna show you something,” Lewis tells you, head down with his eyes focused on his phone. You approach him in the living room but don't make it to him before the TV on the wall above him blinks on. It shows the generic home display before it goes black again. But it's only for a moment. Then, a grainy, night vision video starts to play. 

It takes you a moment to realise what is. It’s not until you hear the video playback what sounds like Lewis’ laugh. On screen, now  in clear view of the camera, you dragged Lewis to one of the outdoor sofas. Suddenly, you recognize everything in the video.

It from the boat trip you took a few weeks ago, traipsing around Greece with some friends before Lewis had to get back in race mode for the foreseeable future. It was late, all your friends had gone to bed and the crew had been tipped heavily to give you some privacy on deck.

You’re standing there watching yourself, watching your mouth meet his and moan in pleasure. In person, you don’t realise he’s even standing behind you until a gentle hand on your middle startles you out of your gaze.  

“You remember that?” he asks softly, with a small nod towards the TV. You nod, letting out a distracted ‘mmhmm’ as you keep your eyes on the screen. His other hand meets your other side, palms softly caressing against the t-shirt you wore. 

Back on the boat, you had already pulled Lewis free from the confines of his joggers. You were on the floor, on your knees. Even with the state of the art speakers Lewis had installed, you can’t make out what he’s saying to you on video. Just the soft rasp of his voice as he eggs you on.

“How did you get this?” you ask, your throat dry. You had taken him into your mouth on the boat, Lewis throwing his head back in pleasure on screen. It was nice to see him–actually see what he looked like while you gave him head. Up close was one thing, but watching the effect you had on him has your insides somersaulting.

“I told you I’d have them get rid of the footage.” 

Neither of you were stupid. You both knew something as risky as this would require some damage control but Lewis promised you he’d take care of it.

“Yes, but how do you have it?” you gulp after a particularly loud moan vibrates off the screen. 

Lewis doesn’t answer you, just laughs softly as he moves to start placing kisses on your neck. His hands move from your waist, roaming over your arms, then your shoulders. The roughness of his skin against the softness of your skin feels euphoric. But he stops the motion all too soon, one his hands clasping over each of your wrists. In front of you, your past self is already mounting your boyfriend, his hands eager to expose your breasts from the bikini you were wearing. 

Loud, lewd sounds fill the room, echoing off the TV and bathing the both of you in a symphony of your own moans. You can feel Lewis’ breath against your neck, his hands still holding your wrists. You watch as his hand slipped over your core, pads of his fingers finding the perfect spot to send you over the edge. The sight of it makes you hotter, your skin starting to feel clammy and stomach somersaulting. Instinctively, you lean further back into Lewis, trying to instinctually rut yourself against him for some kind of relief. 

But he’s not taking any of it. Just tightens his grip on your wrists and moves so you can’t roll your hips back against him. 

The sounds on the TV get loud. You can hear the sound of your bodies meeting amongst the huffs and moans. It doesn’t matter how much you beg, how pathetically you mewl at Lewis to let you do something. He doesn’t care. Doesn’t even really let you look at him. At best you can get is the cocky smirk and devious gleam in his eyes before he’s gathering both your wrists in one hand and fixing your gaze ahead by your chin. 

Your heart feels like its beating out of your chest. Your skin is sticking to your clothes, working up a sweat from how hot you feel underneath your clothes. Lewis makes you watch the whole thing like that. Forced to watch both orgasms he gave you. Forced to listen to the defeated sigh of satisfaction Lewis gives as you pulled yourself off of him. Forced to watch the glistening trail of yourselves that even the shitty security camera could pick up sliding down your leg.

You don’t even have to move to tell how wet you are once the TV finally turns off. Looking (and feeling) like you’re in a trance, Lewis chuckles proudly and presses a kiss to your hair. 

“Now, go upstairs. Take all your clothes off. And wait for me.” He says, pressing one more kiss to your temple. He pulls away just a touch so he can look you in the eyes. “But do not touch yourself.” He taps his pointer finger to the tip of your nose and pats your ass as your single to get moving. 

You do as you're told and head upstairs. Meanwhile, Lewis gets working on some drinks for the pair of you. He only gets as far as pulling his mock-Tequilas from the cabinet before he hears what at first sounds like your phone going off. But the buzzing he hears through the upstairs floor doesn’t stop. He freezes in place to listen. The buzzing keeps going, far longer than any ringtone would. 

As soon as he realises what you’re doing, he drops what he’s doing and makes a break for the stairs. You can hear him calling your name through the bedroom door as he takes them to at a time to get to you.

[irisintheafterglow]

iris is missing bachira again, what else is new!!

in the limited amount of time you'd spent with bachira meguru, you learned that, with the exception of soccer, his attention span was shorter than a toddler's.

he was always fiddling with something at the outskirts of your vision, spinning a pencil or rolling a rectangular eraser back and forth. a closer look revealed an assortment of little drawings at the corners and headings of his notebook pages: little butterflies, trees, flowers, rockets, fish, and anything more you could possibly think of. you sat in the seat closest to the aisle where the teacher walked through during worktimes, and you developed the habit of tapping his side of the lab table when she started getting too close. bachira would then flip to whatever page he was supposed to be completing and put on the appearance of working hard, murmuring his gratitude when the teacher passed.

it was during a lecture about aquatic ecosystems when the first bachira doodle swam its way into your notebook. you didn't notice it at first, too focused on the presentation to see his hand quickly scribble on your paper before retreating like nothing happened. but, when you finally had a second to look down and see a fish swimming next to a crudely drawn piece of coral, the tiniest smile when you looked at bachira's face was a dead giveaway. you added your own stalk of seaweed to the picture and his smile only grew larger when you slid the paper over to show him.

over time, drawings began to include questions, questions turned to full messages, and full messages became gossip and complaints that were exchanged without any spoken words. his favorite thing to scribble was we won the game, btw :D because you never failed to giggle at his terribly drawn soccer ball next to the smiley face. his most frequently asked question, however, was a tossup between what tf are we learning and i'm so hungry. he was a distraction in class, yes, but a welcome one when you needed someone to lighten a dark mood.

you found that his bored tendencies rubbed off on you, as you were itching to write something one day when the teacher had explicitly instructed you to watch the documentary without taking notes. bachira knew that you had a hard time remembering things if you didn't write them down, and his solution startled you.

"it's okay, just write on me!" he beamed at you as he whispered over the movie playing on the projector. "you let me do it all the time, so let me return the favor."

"i let you do it because none of your pens are permanent, bachira. it's also just doodles, not full sentences," you point out, a blister starting to form on the inside of your fingers as you spin your pen. "mine are a little harder to wash off, trust me."

"as long as you don't draw a dick on my face, i really don't care," he shrugs and you scoff as he's rolling up his sleeve and presenting you his blank forearm. "your canvas awaits." seeing the hesitancy on your face, he nods encouragingly and takes the liberty of drawing a very shaky smiley face on the side of his thumb. "your turn!"

for the remainder of class, bachira's chin rests in his palm with his elbow propped on the table, his other arm extended to you as you jot down whatever you want to remember for later. bachira watches you more than he does the video, memorizing the way you bite your tongue when you're thinking and the way your eyes light up when you figure out how to paraphrase a thought. it's endearing and an odd fluttering feeling occurs in his chest as you look over at him with a grateful smile. at the end of the period, you draw a heart on the inside of his wrist before rushing off to your next subject, still expressing your thanks as you push in your chair.

later, bachira brushes off his teammates when they ask why he has pen stains all over his arm; he says he didn't have time to scrub it before the game.

---

the blue lock players begin to notice an odd habit of bachira's, a sort of ritual right before every match. he rolls up his uniform's long-sleeve until just enough of his wrist is showing, and draws something on the inside of his wrist. with the cap of the marker between his teeth, bachira obviously struggles to draw with his non-dominant hand but declines assistance when isagi offers.

when he kisses the heart on the inside of his wrist before scoring every goal, he hopes that you can feel it's for you, with a promise that he'll be back to you soon.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[cottonlemonade]

How You Met

word count: 1111 || avg. reading time: 5 mins.

pairing: post-time skip Sugawara x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: spoilers

You cradled the stack of books in your arms as you looked through the large shop window onto the street outside. It had started to rain and people hastened by the unassuming storefront with umbrellas or their bags raised above their heads. It wouldn‘t be long before the foot traffic would die down completely, you thought. Although, in your opinion, there was no better place to escape to during a rainy afternoon than a secondhand bookstore. Grabbing your handy dandy footstool you made your way to a section near the back to sort away the volumes people had left lying around.

As you moved some paperbacks to the right to make more space, the battered little brass bell hanging above the entrance chimed.

“Good afternoon!“, you called out. Putting on your most inviting customer service smile you looked around the shelf to greet the new patron but all you saw was a swoosh of a little rain-damp jacket disappearing into the manga section. Shrugging your shoulders you went back to sorting, enjoying the comfortable silence of the shop and the soft sounds of the radio playing in the back.

However, after about a minute or so when you were just contemplating going to ask if you could help, you heard a quiet sob. You looked around again, thinking maybe you just imagined it, but kept your ears perked. Another suppressed sound made you climb down your footstool.

Behind the very last bookshelf sat a little boy, maybe six or seven years old, curled up to a ball, crying into his folded arms.

You approached him carefully.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

The boy lifted his head a bit. His big dark eyes were filled with tears, his lips puffy and red as if he had bitten them to muffle any sounds. He hiccuped.

Your expression softened. He reminded you of your little brother. He had the same scrunch in the nose, when he was sad.

"Can I get you anything?", you asked gently, offering a kind smile.

He shook his head and hid his face in his arms again, trembling from a new wave of sobs.

You got down on your knees and rummaged in your pocket for a tissue. You were so focused to not frighten him that you didn't notice another ring from the bell above the door.

"Here.", you held out a tissue to the boy and he took it hesitantly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Again, a tiny shake of the head. You thought for a moment, then nodded to yourself as you shuffled a little closer to him. What would your brother need in this situation?

"Would you like a hug?", you asked.

The crying boy eyed you with uncertainty at first, wiping his tears on his sleeve. But your chubby figure paired with the rather motherly look in your eyes probably put him at ease because in the next moment he held out his short arms.

You embraced him at once, one hand on the back of his head, and one drawing soothing circles over his damp jacket.

The warmth of your hug made him break down even more. He cried into your shoulder and you held him, now slowly swaying back and forth like you did whenever your baby brother was upset.

"It's gonna be fine.", you said calmly, holding him tighter.

You sat like this for a couple of moments until finally his breathing became calmer, steadier.

"Would you like another tissue?" you asked eventually.

He nodded, rubbing his eyes. You looked around in your pockets again. "Shoot, wait, I think I still have some behind the counter."

But before you got up an outstretched hand, holding a tissue appeared next to you. You jumped a little and looked up to a rain soaked guy, a little older than you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

The crying boy took the offered tissue.

"You alright, Yusu-chan?", the newcomer asked, concerned.

You moved protectively in front of the child in case this guy, sweet as he may look, was who the boy ran away from.

But “Yusu-chan”, still in your arms, nodded and sniffled, “Yes, sensei.”

The young man held his hand out to you to help you up.

"Thank you.", he said in a quiet, relieved voice, so that the boy couldn't hear, "I've been looking everywhere for him."

"No problem.", you replied, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You’ve already done more than enough, thank you very much." He bent down to pick up the boy, who immediately nuzzled into his neck.

You blushed under his genuine smile.

"I'm Koushi."

"Y/n."

"Yusuke.", said the little boy, composing himself and turning to you, his arms still around Koushi‘s neck, "I'm really sorry for crying on your shirt, miss."

You chuckled, "Oh, don't worry about it. Are you feeling a bit better now?" You reached out to pat his head and he leaned into the touch like a puppy might.

"A lot." He gave you a wide smile, exposing two missing front teeth. It would have looked sweet if the puffy eyes and red nose didn't break your heart.

For a moment the three of you just stood there a little awkwardly. "We should get going.'', Koushi said, using his free hand to ruffle his wet gray hair and considering you thoughtfully.

You nodded. Yusuke just looked back and forth between the two adults, confused.

"Well then... have a nice evening."

And so they left. You sighed when the jingle of the bell died down after the door had closed.

Staring absentmindedly after them for a few heartbeats you absurdly wondered if you‘d see them again, before shaking your head and going back to work.

A few moments later the doorbell chimed again.

"Good afternoon!", you called diligently, "I'll be right with you."

You slid the little stack of books in your arms in place and went to the front. Koushi stood by the register, nervously playing with his fingers.

"Hello again.", you smiled, your heart fluttering in hopeful excitement, "Did you forget something?"

"Yeah, actually... I was ... I was wondering if you would like to grab some coffee, maybe."

Your stomach pulled a little. "Sure, my shift ends in 2 hours."

"Great, I'll pick you up."

You both smiled at each other unsure of what to do next.

"Okay then. See you in two hours."

He turned around to leave and walked right into the door.

You winced in sympathy as he rubbed his forehead.

"That's a pull."

[dr3am5scape]

Mizu saves you

(Mizu x Fem Reader)

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Summary: Your a princess that were chased by men from your home town. As you were seeking for help, a samurai twice as tall as you came to the rescue. 🤭💕

Warning: (Bit dark content)

How’s everyone day doing? I’m sure it’s doing well💜Tonight I will like to give out another story to read through and enjoy. Pls let me know for Mizu or upcoming characters which are my crushes such as Abby, Kuvira, Revy or so and so fanfics. I have to figure out a story for Abby still, but since I got requests from others, I’ll try to get those started without waiting too long . Besides that, please support my stories. Tysm☺️

A samurai stayed in a brothel at the city for quite some time. But this time it was for the night. She didn't want anyone to come towards as she was in her own time thinking. She never let anyone allowed no company to start causing a problem. Whatever she was doing, you were off to leave her alone til she was done. In the meantime she heard footsteps along the way, trying to ignore. "I said no company please," she says sternly. There was a princess from the main town that have been in some sort of trouble. After all it was you who was in a dangerous situation. "Please sir…” You stutter at your words. Then start freaking out immediately. “I really need your help!" You grab them by the arm. At first you thought it was a man because how well they dressed in a masculine-samurai way, but from the voice, it was sure a woman. “I've been chased by several of men. Please if you can help me before they take me away!" You cried out, tugging piece of cloth that was from the samurai's outfit.

The samurai, known as Mizu, her tone soften quickly when she heard it was a cry for help and that it was literally serious. She turn to face you below, adjusting her glasses. "Stay calm dear. Who's after you actually?" She tried her best to calm you down, but the look on your face tells her that this wasn't the right time to start explaining literally everything and get right to the point. "Look, I'm not sure about their names. They just started attacking few of my bodyguards while I was in my room. I'm a princess coming from this town. And I need someone's help!" You start tearing up, releasing emotions out of your body. Mizu takes note that something was up and that she was willing to gain trust in you.

"Alright. You stay behind me from now on." She says like this type of behavior wasn’t so serious XD. She brings your wrist, turning you around to get behind her back as Mizu takes out her sword slowly, ready to take off. She lead you out of the brothel, walking down to a staircase from outside, seeing if the men were ever gonna approach. You hold onto the back of her arm as you slowly followed her without making a sound. Once you two look around the city in night, few shadows comes from a block away. "There! Right there!" You yell pointing at them. In a quick swift, Mizu drag you to a nearby wall bit far from the men, as she covers your mouth, leaning closer to your height. She didn't want you to make such noise to ruin the time where you two can easily get killed by several of men in groups. From the way Mizu shuts you down, she was literally pinning you to the wall by grabbing your wrist up on the wall with one of her hand as the other on your mouth, keeping you still and steady as possible. She slowly peak out to see if they were coming at her. Few of the guys notice, not realizing it was you two at first, til they start walking by.

You mumble, freaking out when you heard further footsteps. "Stay here. Remain quiet." Mizu says, drawing her sword steadly as few of the guys saw her. She was not having you take your life away from the night. So thankfully, she was that person, the only samurai to save you. (Give you at least another life). The fighting begun when the first men comes running at Mizu with his dagger. She didn't hesitate but to duck under him and slash him from behind. He fall on the ground, done. You didn't notice another guy came as bunch of them runs towards Mizu. She did whatever she can to attack each of them. And one of the men went towards you, trying to kill you. You did your best to throw rocks at him, a way to protect yourself. The guy had his dagger ready to jab in you as he slash you. Your arm was blocked from the dagger and felt the pain of the blood spilling bit. You scream in horror. Right away, Mizu strike the men through the heart, letting him fall on the ground as she bend down to take your hand.

Your face turn pale as you saw all the blood everywhere from every men Mizu attacked. You was so focus on that more than what Mizu was trying to say. A bit blur on your mind, you tried hard not to faint. "Are you hurt, dear?" Mizu asks, still trying to held up her hand at you. You were so speechless, you couldn't think what else to say. "Um..." reaches slowly at her arm. Mizu pulled you up holding you still. Your knees were buckled, as you slowly fainted to the ground. But Mizu catches you before you ever landed straight down.

Few hours later, back in the brothel, you were slightly awake, laying down on a purple mat. Looking around, you can see Mizu carefully pulling up her sleeves to see your wound from the arm. She slowly takes your own sleeve away from this deep scar. Felt like your arm was close to get slice up. Before Mizu was able to open the med kit, she sees your eyes watching her. "...you again..." you said quietly.

You've been unconscious for a little while now since the crazy incident happened earlier. Luckily, Mizu kept calming you down, looking at you; with nothing but a soft expression. "I'll take care of your arm. Must stay still and rest. I got you covered." She says, gently taking her time to stitch your arm, which you wince from the pain. You were able to see her for a quite a few seconds before falling back to a deep sleep.

You thought to yourself: (Who was this…this samurai that…saved my life?)

*Aaaha so glad I figure what to write for tonight :D I was so lazy not writing more stories as I'm suppose to. Been having a passion on writing stories for idk how long. So, enjoy this welcoming fanfic of my beloved, Mizu)

Please reblog would be appreciated!

[candycandy00]

Tentacle Tomura - A Shigaraki x Reader Fic

So here’s the tentacle fic. I’m not sure it needs much of a summary. Reader is a hero who has an encounter with Tomura with a tentacle quirk.

Smut. 18+. Tentacles. Oral. Anal. Size kink. Lots of slimy stuff and various fluids. This is a nasty fic!

You couldn’t believe your luck when you stumbled upon the underground facility beneath a hospital. Your quirk makes searching for advanced technology easy, and it has led you to an entire lab. There are great glass tubes with dangerous looking Nomus in them, staring at you with their creepy eyes. Are they awake? Can they actually see you? You certainly hope not. You’re a lone hero exploring your discovery. Combat is not your specialty, so your plan is to take a look around this obvious villain facility and then report your findings back to the other heroes. 

Just as you’re about to leave, you notice a door in the back. For some reason, the sight of that door fills you with a sense of dread, as if something terrible is waiting on the other side. But your quirk is telling you that more technology is beyond it, perhaps even more advanced than the stuff you’ve already seen. So you take a deep breath and open the door. 

Inside is just one large glass tube filled with liquid, and the figure of a young man floating within. You approach the tube carefully and look closely at the man. Your eyes widen and you instinctively draw back away from him. It’s Shigaraki Tomura! The heroes have been searching frantically for him for weeks, and here he is. When he doesn’t move or even open his eyes, you step closer again. 

Shigaraki is surprisingly young, with pure white hair floating around his pretty face. He’s dressed in form fitting black clothing, his body much more toned than in the pictures you’ve seen. You realize with a bit of guilt that you find him attractive. What are you thinking? He’s a dangerous villain! 

Still, you find yourself pressing your whole body against the glass and staring up at him. It’s at this moment that his eyes snap open, two glowing red orbs fixing immediately on you. 

In a panic, you back away quickly, bumping into some sort of control panel in the process. You’re not sure what happened. Buttons were pushed. Beeping sounds were made. And the water begins to drain from Shigaraki’s tube. 

Your first instinct is to flee, to run back out the way you came and call for help. But for some reason, your legs just won’t move. You collapse onto the floor as your legs give out beneath you, and you can only watch in horror as the glass opens up with a mechanical thud and Shigaraki steps out. 

He runs a hand through his hair, water dripping all over him. “Looks like you interrupted my nap,” he says in a dry, bored voice. “I’ll have to get the doc back down here to start it up again. In the meantime…”

He looks straight at you. 

You make a sound that comes out like a squeak and scoot back until you hit the wall. He’s going to kill you. There’s no doubt about that. He’s going to use that terrifying quirk of his to destroy you. 

“I’m guessing you’re a hero,” he says, squatting down in front of you, close enough that he could reach out and touch you. 

Too afraid to speak, you give a shaky nod. 

He stares at you, his eyes focusing on your face for a while before moving down, grazing over your whole body. Is he… checking you out? And if he is, would that be a good or bad thing? 

He stands up then, still watching you. “Who have you told about this place?”

“N-no one!” You blurt it out without thinking. Should you have led him to think others knew, and might be on their way to rescue you? Or was it better to try to avoid angering him? 

He won’t stop staring at you, and you realize, again with some guilt, that he has beautiful eyes. What is wrong with you? This man is going to kill you in seconds and all you can think about is how hot he is. 

But instead of attacking, he says something truly bizarre: “You look like a chick from my favorite hentai.”

What? Hentai? Like anime porn? What is he talking about?

His eyes finally shift away from you as he looks up at the ceiling, seemingly in deep thought. “Master gave me a lot of quirks. Let’s see if the one I’m thinking about already got transferred.”

He closes his eyes, concentration evident in his face. Then, so suddenly that you scream in shock, a mass of wriggling red tentacles burst from his back. They vary in size, from relatively thin to extremely thick and bulbous. They’re fleshy and shiny, some of them dripping some sort of clear fluid. 

Before you can even react to this horror show, four tentacles shoot toward you, surprising you with their length. They coil around your arms and legs, lifting you into the air. And this is when his previous comment starts to make sense. 

You’ve seen hentai before, mostly with friends making fun of it. So you’re definitely aware of one of the most popular types: tentacle hentai, where women get violated by dozens of gross looking tentacles, usually from some alien or monster. Though you’d laughed at the absurdity along with your friends, you’d always found the tentacles disturbing. You couldn’t help imagining that happening to you, how frightening it would be, how humiliating it would be to have your body forced into those lewd positions. 

Now, as the tentacles sprouting from Shigaraki’s back wrap around your limbs and hold you aloft in front of him, you realize exactly what kind of hentai had been his favorite, and your whole body trembles. 

“Whoa, I can feel everything they touch,” he says, looking excited. “They’re like extra limbs.”

You can’t help noticing two more tentacles that have been creeping up your bare thighs, toward your skirt. You squirm in the slimy grip, trying and failing to free yourself. “Please,” you say to him, “just let me go!”

He grins, baring his teeth. “What fun would that be?”

The two extra tentacles slide under your skirt and move up to place themselves between your skin and the waistband. Then they rip the skirt completely off you, causing you to shriek and jerk against your bonds. More tentacles shoot toward you and then slither under your remaining clothes, under your shirt, under your bra, even under your panties. You whimper and struggle, but it’s no use. You’re completely helpless. 

All at once, the tentacles under your clothes pull outward, bursting through the fabric, leaving it all in shreds. Your shirt is reduced to ripped sleeves hanging uselessly from your arms, your bra nothing more than two thin straps connected to nothing. But worst of all, your panties were completely demolished, as if they’d never been there to begin with. 

Almost at the same time, the tentacles holding you shift your body so that it’s like you’re sitting on air, your knees pushed up toward your shoulders and your thighs spread so far apart that you’re afraid you’ll be ripped in two. Your arms are pulled back painfully tight behind you, causing your full, naked breasts to jut out in front of you. 

Shigaraki’s eyes roam over you, taking in the obscene view. Heat floods your face as you’re overcome with embarrassment. You avoid looking him in the face, so your eyes wander downward, where you can clearly see an enormous bulge in his tight black pants. 

Is he that turned on by seeing you naked? And why the hell do you feel flattered by that? Even worse, you can’t stop yourself from imagining what that bulge would look like unclothed. With alarm, you realize you’re getting wet. 

More tentacles move across your body, two thin ones wrapping around your breasts, squeezing them. From the ends of each of these, tiny tentacles sprout and coil around your nipples. The tiny tentacles are covered in little barbs that prick at the delicate nubs, though they’re not sharp enough to break the skin. The sensation makes you gasp, but it’s not unpleasant. 

Then a single rope-like tentacle emerges from Shigaraki’s back and rubs across your pussy, pushing the folds apart as it finds your clit and clamps down over it. You jerk wildly, crying out, as you feel the end of the tentacle tightening around your most sensitive spot, and from somewhere inside the tentacle, you feel another tiny extension that feels like a narrow, wet tongue lapping at your pinched clit. The stimulation is too much. You can feel your arousal dripping out of you, can almost hear it hitting the floor. 

And all the while, Shigaraki is inches away, watching you buck and fight, your body contorting into ever more embarrassingly lewd poses. Even you can’t tell whether you’re moaning or sobbing as the tentacle between your legs relentlessly attacks your clit. 

“You really do look like her,” Shigaraki says, his eyes full of lust. “You’re even dripping wet like she was. Do tentacles feel that good?”

You realize he’s talking about hentai again. You also notice another tentacle heading toward your crotch. This one is much thicker, with a bulbous head on the end. It doesn’t take you long to figure out where it’s going. 

You’re still a virgin, and it’s something you’ve wanted to change about yourself for a while now. Most of your friends got their cherries popped in high school, or very soon after, and they teased you incessantly about the fact that you still hadn’t experienced that, even two years after graduating. You wanted to get laid, you really did, but you hadn’t found anyone you were attracted to enough to sleep with. 

Even so, the thought of your first time being with a tentacle just made you feel like crying, so you yell out, “Wait, please wait!”

The tentacle heading toward you slows but doesn’t stop. Shigaraki looks at you curiously. 

In desperation, you cry, “I don’t want to lose my virginity to a tentacle!”

That’s when the tentacle freezes in place, just inches from your spread open pussy. Shigaraki’s eyes seem to light up as he says, “Seriously? You’re a virgin?”

Blushing furiously, you nod. 

A grin spreads across his pretty face, red eyes shining. “So you’re fine with losing your virginity as long as it’s not to a tentacle?”

Your mouth falls open in shock. That’s not really what you meant, but now that he said it, the thought of him fucking you invades your brain. Your eyes shift to that bulge again, and this time Shigaraki notices. 

He uses a hand that’s missing a few fingers to palm himself through his pants and asks, “Is this what you want?”

You look away. Yes, it’s exactly what you want but you’re too ashamed to say it out loud. The tentacles working on your body are making it hard to think straight, and you can now see a large puddle of fluid on the floor beneath you. 

The tentacle that’s latched onto your clit tightens again, the tongue-like extension inside making rapid, feathery motions. It’s too much. You can’t hold back anymore, and you cry out in ecstasy as an intense orgasm wracks your body. It’s so powerful that tears leak from your eyes and your body convulses in midair. 

When you finally regain your senses, you notice Shigaraki pulling his pants down enough to free his cock, and you nearly gasp. You’ve never seen one in person before, but you’re pretty certain it’s not supposed to be that big. Shigaraki himself is looking down at it with a surprised expression. 

“I guess the quirk affects my body in a lot of ways,” he says, clearly amused. 

The tentacles pull you closer to him, then suddenly twist you around until you’re hanging upside down. From this angle, with your legs still held far apart, Shigaraki has a clear view of everything you have. And your face is mere inches from his cock. You stare at it, watching it throb with arousal. Without thinking, you stretch toward it and give it a tentative lick, drawing your tongue gently along his length. 

You can’t see his face from your position, but you hear him laugh and say, “Horny little hero.” Then the tentacles press your face closer until it’s smooshed against his massive cock. You open your mouth, almost by reflex, and the tip of it shoves in. At only halfway in, the cock is hitting the back of your throat and causing you to gag. But somehow, you’re not repulsed. Even when he begins thrusting into your mouth, cutting off your air each time, you find yourself getting more and more turned on. What a time to discover you’re a masochist. 

This goes on for several minutes, until your throat feels raw and your jaw is sore. Then he pulls out until just the tip of his cock is still inside, and fills your mouth with hot sticky cum. 

You gulp it down as fast as you can, not wanting to spill any and also wanting to be able to breathe normally again. Once you’ve swallowed all of it, he finally pulls out completely and the tentacles holding you twist around again until you’re upright, face to face with him. 

You’re exhausted, breathing heavily, your lips bruised red and trembling. His pale face has reddened slightly from the experience, but otherwise he’s not showing any signs of tiring. He has a look of hunger in his eyes, like he’s just gotten started. 

You feel something snaking up your leg again, and you look down to see the thick, bulbous tentacle from before inching toward your groin. You look frantically back at Shigaraki. “No, please!”

He laughs. “You still want to lose your virginity to this,” he asks, gesturing toward his huge cock. 

Oh God, there’s no way that thing is going to fit inside you. But you still want it. You need it. So you cry out, “Yes!”

He watches you for a moment, seemingly enjoying the show you’re putting on, with tears on your face, tentacles still teasing your tits and clit, your lips quivering. “Maybe I’ll give it to you,” he says in a mocking tone, “if you’re a good girl.”

Before you can ask what he means, you feel the thick tentacle move rapidly up your leg. You draw in a sharp breath and squeeze your eyes shut, preparing to have your first time stolen by this crawling menace, but instead of entering your pussy, the slimy tentacle wiggles its way into your ass. 

Your eyes open widely in shock and confusion. Why is your ass suddenly full? The sensation is bizarre. It hurts, your asshole stretching to accommodate something so thick. The slime and various other fluids only did so much to ease the pain. But you’ve quickly learned that you enjoy a certain level of pain, so you try to relax your muscles and let the tentacle slide in and out. 

“Tentacles are fine for this hole, right?”

You look at Shigaraki again when you hear his voice. You can’t believe all this is happening right in front of him. The embarrassment alone is enough to make you cry as your ass is railed by the long, gooey appendage. Your crying turns to moaning, and you hear his voice again. 

“You really like this, huh? You’re gushing.”

You glance down to see yourself squirting. The sight is enough to make you cum again, but the tentacles never stop, not the one in your ass, not the ones on your tits and clit. You’re sure you’re going to pass out, but the tentacles holding you pull you forward, so close to Shigaraki that your tender nipples brush against the fabric of his shirt. He looks down at you with a sadistic grin and says, “Tell me what you want.”

You look up with teary eyes and say, “I want you to fuck me… please…”

His grin widens. “Be more specific.”

You’re barely coherent at this point, your mind only able to focus on the pleasure and pain that have completely taken over your senses. But you manage to get the words out. “I want you… to fuck my virgin pussy… with your giant cock…”

He laughs then, using the tentacles to pull you away from him. You can’t help whining when you can no longer feel his body heat against you. You can see his cock, rock hard again and twitching. He wants to fuck you. That’s obvious. So why won’t he? Is he trying to torment you? 

Suddenly another thick, phallic tentacle appears out of nowhere and shoves itself into your open mouth, slithering halfway down your throat. The tip of it is leaking fluid, and you realize that fluid tastes exactly like Shigaraki’s cum. The tentacle moves in and out, fucking your mouth. 

A few feet away, Shigaraki is watching intently. His eyes are full of desire as he says, “I’ve stuffed all your holes except the one you want me to stuff, huh? Poor little hero.”

Meanwhile, the two large tentacles are thrusting into your ass and mouth mercilessly. You lose track of time. You don’t know how long this goes on until, at the same moment, both tentacles ejaculate inside you. The fluid keeps spurting into your holes, sliding down your throat, oozing into your ass. And all you can think is, “I’m full to the brim with cum and I’m still a virgin.”

The tentacles, all except for the ones holding you in place, withdraw. Your body is left bruised, raw, sore, dripping both your own cum and Shigaraki’s. You don’t know how you’re still conscious. 

You’re pulled back to Shigaraki again, so tantalizingly close. You wish he would kiss you, or touch you with his own hands, no matter how dangerous that would be. Or better yet, just fuck you already. He looks at you with a strangely serious expression. The tentacles pull your legs apart and draw your knees up, then pull you even closer. You feel the hot tip of Shigaraki’s cock pressing against your entrance, and your whole body tenses up. You can’t imagine what your face looks like right now, but you’re probably wearing a slutty, blissful smile as the tentacles pull you slowly down. 

It’s too big. But you knew that already. The huge cock shoves into you, stretching and ripping your hole. You feel something warm, and realize it must be blood, the proof that you’ve finally lost your virginity. You wince and hiss, involuntarily jerking against the tentacles that are pulling you down. You want this, no matter how bad it hurts. You look Shigaraki in the eyes, and he leans forward, sticking his tongue into your mouth. It’s not the romantic kiss you’d hoped for, but tasting his saliva as it passes to your mouth somehow makes you even wetter. 

Finally, the tentacles stop. You can feel that you’re absolutely stuffed with his cock. Your pussy is throbbing, pulsing. Shigaraki puts his mouth close to your ear and says, “If I push it any further in, it might kill you.”

You nod, understanding. You’re already plenty satisfied with what’s inside you. In fact it’s already too much. 

With the tentacles holding you firmly in place, Shigaraki begins thrusting in and out of you. It hurts at first, stretching you to your limit, but gradually your body accommodates him, and all you feel is full and warm. You maintain eye contact with him, not wanting to miss even the tiniest change in his expression. Does this feel as good for him as it does for you? 

His breaths are more shallow, his hair messy across his forehead and shoulders. Fuck, he’s beautiful. You wish you could stay full of him forever. 

With the other tentacles gone, all your focus is on the cock shoving into you. All your thoughts revolve around it. It’s like your life is nothing without it. You clench around him, and he finally groans, moving his mangled hand up to touch your face. Then he finally kisses you, passionately and sweetly, the way you wanted to be kissed. 

When you feel Shigaraki’s cum shoot deep inside of you, hot and plentiful, it pushes you over the edge again, and you cum for the third time. 

As you shudder and pant, he pulls out of you. Your body goes limp, your head falling back, exhaustion overcoming you. But then you look at Shigaraki’s face again, and you see that he’s grinning. He says, “Now that you’re not a virgin anymore, the tentacles can have their fun.”

You use your remaining strength to hold your head back up and ask in a weak voice, “What?”

As if to answer you, dozens of tentacles shoot out from his back, all of them coming straight for you. Then all at once they’re squeezing your breasts, teasing your nipples, clamping onto your clit, wiggling into your mouth, ass, and pussy, filling every hole you have while Shigaraki watches. 

It feels like an eternity before you finally black out, only after cumming twice more and feeling the three large tentacles ejaculating in all your holes several more times. 

When you wake up, you’re in a hospital bed. You’re sore all over but otherwise unharmed. A creepy looking doctor walks in shortly after and lowers his voice as he tells you, “Shigaraki said to let you go. If you tell anyone about what you found down there, you’ll never have that experience again.”

You look at him in shock. So this doctor is a cohort of Shigaraki’s. Your first thought is to get out of the hospital and report what you found to the heroes. But… could you really tell them what happened? No, you couldn’t possibly do that. 

So you leave the hospital, and you keep your mouth shut about what you saw, and what you did. Hopefully, Shigaraki would wake up again soon. You were already excited about your next encounter.

[letmesleep8]

even if I die screaming // elliexreader

CHAPTER 1: Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow

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Chapter 2 | A03 gets it first

content warnings/tags: mature; angst; troubled characters; friends to lovers

notes: it's my first time ever posting fanfiction and English is not my first language, please be nice or I will cry.

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"Were you making fun of me with some esoteric joke?"

I am sitting on the floor, my face burning along with my soul and the back of my throat. I take another sip of the third-rate alcohol to calm me down on my hands and the instant  headache brings another wave of fury within me. I scream and throw the bottle at a wall, as if it was the one to blame for my current situation. I get up and rub my hands over my face as I walk to the window, looking over to the river. I feel the cold winter air going through my lungs as I look into my past and wonder how I managed to be this stupid.

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May 11, 2034 Spring

Dear diary,

The weather is finally starting to get warmer. I think I heard some birds shrimping this morning. Mama found me some new vinyls on her last patrol, most of them were either scratched or only contained some sort of classical music, but there's one I really like. It's golden and it has a picture of a couple on the cover. I think it says "rumors", it's kinda dirty still. I had never seen a vinyl that sparkled. My favorite song is the one that says "don't stop  thinking about tomorrow, it will be better than before". I bet that guy didn't ever see a future like this coming.

Dina asked if I wanted to come to the river tomorrow with the other kids. Don't know if mama would let me though. Gonna make dinner real good so she does.

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"Wait up! Jesse, you run too fast, it's not fun."  I rushed as much as I could to try to catch him.  "You don't know how to play!"

Jesse laughed as he got closer to the shore, I managed to catch him a bit after, still panting. Right after me came the village dog all of the kids fought to keep last week. "You're lucky Barkie is such a loyal pup, right?" He knelt beside the big German Shepherd, scratching her chin. "Otherwise even she would be able to outrun you!"

"Her new name's Stevie!", I rolled my eyes. "And it suits her much better. Right, Stevie? Yes, it does!", I baby talked and kissed her head as the boy rolled his eyes.

As we discussed Stevie's recent name change we heard Dina's voice a few feet from us, calling us over. She was sitting by the river with Cat as some of the other boys played in the water. I got closer, bringing the dog with me.

"Oh hi, Stevie!", Dina said excitedly. The puppy nodded her tail happily. 

Jesse quickly remarked how unhappy he was with the sudden name change, leading to a childish argument between the three of us while Cat just kept drawing trees on her little notebook as usual, only speaking when directly asked to, she said she thought Barkie was a better name. I was ready to tell her how bad her taste was when I heard some noise behind me. I was quick to look, thinking it could be an infected somehow, but it was Maria. She looked at us with a slightly angry face, knowing we shouldn't be sneaking out. In normal circumstances I'd be terrified by the thought of getting scolded by Maria but, right now, something else had caught my attention. 

The blonde woman had a girl next to her, she seemed to  be close to my age. As Maria said something about how we shouldn't be going out of town and how we were old enough to be responsible my eyes traced the girl's figure. Her freckled face, her green eyes, the bandages on her right arm. I couldn't tell if  I was overthinking things or if the spots between her shoulder and her wound really formed the Orion constellation.

Completely oblivious to the scolding, I interrupted her. "Who are you?", I said to the girl, trying to sound more threatening than curious. 

"I am Ellie. Williams", she looks at me, suspicious.

"Hey, quick!'' Jesse quickly interrupts us. "Do you think Stevie is a good name for this  dog?"

I glared at him, this wasn't the time or moment to ask such question to a stranger. And also she had nothing to do with our dog after all!

"What? Like Stevie Nicks?", she replied, clearly puzzled. I quickly soften my gaze and unintentionally smiled. Maybe she's fine.

[sophswritingthings]

rescue — hazel callahan

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

warning(s): mentions of panic attacks, swearing, claustrophobia 

tropes: established relationship, hurt/comfort, fluff

summary: you and your girlfriend, hazel callahan, are trapped in the elevator when it suddenly comes to a halt. your absolutely panicked. hazel, like always, is there for you.

a/n: based off of my actual real life fear of this happening. if only I had my own hazel

word count: 684 words / 3,770 characters 

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your back was pressed against the wall of the elevator, your hand gripping hazel’s as if you were holding on for dear life.

you’d always been terrified of elevators. always avoided getting on them.

yet here you were: standing on an elevator terrified for your life.

hazel being there did make it better, though.

hazel was so comforting; such a warm, kind presence. those beautiful, gentle blue eyes and that puppy dog like demeanor.

but that presence of safety disappeared in mere seconds, your hands being ripped apart of the elevator rocked back and forth for a minute.

“w-what—what the fuck?!” you stammered, glancing around frantically. you were now sitting on the floor, your heart pounding in your chest as hazel rubbed her head and stood up to get closer to you.

“I don’t.. want to scare you, baby girl,” hazel wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you tight into her side. “but, I, um—think we’re stuck.”

“stuck?!” 

your breathing picked up, your chest heaving up and down. you gazed at hazel, your (e/c) eyes frantic as you did.

“hey, hey! It’s okay,” hazel reached up, pressing the red emergency button the elevators keypad. “somebody’ll come and get us soon, okay? I promise.”

hazel smiles. her smiles intoxicating; such a comforting and kind expression on her face.

despite all that…

It wasn’t helping.

your breathing was sporadic, rapid. your heart was beating in your ears; your entire body shaking. you hugged your knees close to your chest, trying to find some sort of comfort.

hazel didn’t panic. she didn’t freak out. (at least, not on the outside).

she had to stay calm for you.

she knew you were having a panic attack; she’d had a few of her own, in the past. she sort of knew how to handle them—for herself, anyways. had she ever helped anyone else? well, no…

but you were her girlfriend. 

she knew you. 

she’d figure it out, somehow, someway. 

“hey.. hey, baby, look at me,” hazel placed a soft hand on your cheek, turning your head to face her. your eyes were wide, tears bubbling in them—

yet you looked at her. 

you looked at her, hoping for comfort, hoping for love.

and that’s exactly what you got.

she lent down, a little, pressing your forehead to hers. she ran a hand through your hair.

“breathe slowly,” she murmured, doing exactly as her words suggested. she breathed in deep and slow, trying to get you to mirror her actions. “just… look at me, don’t think about anything else. focus on me and me only.”

you nodded a little. you did as she asked; and though your breath was shaky, it seemed to working.

“good—good girl,” she gave you a soft smile, chuckling a little at her own words. “just relax.. we’re okay. we’re going to be okay, you and me.”

“I…” you take in a deep breath, “I’m okay.. w-we’re okay.”

you repeat her words, finding solace and security in them.

“your exactly right, baby girl. you’re okay.” she smiles, sitting up with her head against the wall of the elevator. the small box was starting to worry her, too, but she had to keep strong.

just for you.

“how.. long do you think we’re gonna be in here..?” you whisper, still shaking a little—you rest your head on hazel’s shoulder, feeling her rest her head atop of yours.

“honestly?” she chuckles nervously, “I have absolutely no clue. I’ve never been stuck in an elevator before, hun.”

her words draw a breathy laugh out if you, “I wouldn’t be surprised, baby.”

“I- wow, do you think that highly of me?”

“sometimes you can be a bit.. silly.”

she rolls her eyes, gazing down at you as she picks her head up, “you like it though, don’t you?” she has the slight hint of a smirk on her face.

you laugh, smiling, “‘course I do,” you murmur, reaching up to plant a soft kiss on her cheek.

she leans down, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. she tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear, “well, good.”

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a/n: it’s short but it was an idea I thought of while at school. and I was serious when I said that this is based off my actual fear of fucjing elevators. that shits terrifying