#the way i would go absolutely FERAL if this were the case

[hexxedcore]

idk if you write for Jayce and I'm kinda having mixed feelings about him after act2 but hear me out: yandere! Jayce's first priority being to look for you after getting out of the hexcore

shamefully i am prioritising this because i have quite a lot of thoughts as of act two 💔. writing will be beneath the cut for people who wish to avoid spoilers. nsfw is included and given a separated section!

also, yes i write for (and love) jayce. i stand with my cancelled wife 💯

WARNINGS: YANDERE, possessive behaviour, delusion, unhealthy + toxic relationship, S2 ACT 2 SPOILERS. NSFW, marking

SFW:

If ‘tunnel vision’ was personified, it would be Jayce after coming out of the Arcane. This man clearly witnessed something so incomprehensibly horrible that it’s amped his determination up to 100%. Good luck with that.

After quite literally squashing Salo, his main mission is you. Find you and protecting you from whatever he witnessed in those Wild Runes from becoming true. Now, we don’t know how quickly time passed for him, but it had to be a long time. God knows what happened to you while he wasn’t there to keep a watchful eye on you. You were hopeless without him — you could be injured, or worse.

You were exactly where he thought you’d be. Tossing restlessly in a bed that was far too large for one person, wondering why exactly his absence was just so abrupt. No letter, no goodbye that morning; radio silence.

You were in for a shock when you were startled awake by the sound of something heavy and burdened being dragged on the floorboards, having little protection save for a knife you’d procured from the kitchen in the case that any burglars attempted to make themselves cozy.

And you were just about to throw it, too, when he stepped into the small gap of your bedside lamp. This was hardly the Jayce you knew; haggard, disheveled, scruffy — most of all, startled, his breathing laboured and his hands tightly clasping his hammer.

That man had dropped his weapon and was on you in seconds; holding you, clutching you, in the fear that you would dissipate if you weren’t treated carefully. The tight was warm and shaky, but most of all oh so incredibly suffocating.

That night there is one thing he’s promising you, like a mantra: he is never letting you go again.

NSFW:

This man is starving and there is absolutely nothing getting in the way of that. He comes out of the Arcane like he’s in a rut and poor old you for having to cope with it. Good luck.

Jayce doesn’t feel like he has the time to be sensual. He can, and still is of course, but he’s rough in the sense that it’s animalistic. He’s acting on his basest desires now, and that’s a stark desire for you.

There is nothing more that this man gets a kick out of than marking you. For general yandere hcs, yeah, but Act Two him? The whole world is finding out about it, believe it. And god forbid you leave some scratches on his back — he’d go feral.

Constantly muttering affirmations that you aren’t going anywhere, that you are so divine yet so so hopeless without him. You missed his cock while he was gone? He’ll make up for that, because like he’d let someone else do the job.

[lolhex12]

broke: Jeremy is captain sunshine golden retriever boy who hides his feelings and his fucked up family situation

woke: actually🤓☝️ Jeremy first met Andrew in juvie when they were 15 & 13 respectively

[possamble]

realizing im kind of a weirdo about laios and marcille

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

The phrase 'to carry a child' is to me such an unbearably tender description. You're carrying it? Nurturing and protecting it? Freely giving it what it needs until it is ready for birth? 'Going to have a baby' speaks of the hope of promise, but 'carrying a baby' gives the same implication to me, only with an added beauty of what is happening immediately as well as the future.

[pseudowho]

"--and this is the staffroom," Gojo sing-songed, swinging open the door on your First Day Tour, with you a few steps behind him, "--ah! And that's Nanamin. Say hi, Nanamin!"

A tall, suited blond man looked up from his spot on the sofa as you peered in; at first, he simply nodded to you, disinterested. Then, Gojo spoke again while leading you out.

"--he's not very fun, don't worry-- no sense of humour."

Your final glimpse as the door closed, was of the blond man's irritated scowl.

It was true; Kento clearly didn't make people laugh, for he was either too mean or too subtle to be funny. This was the case, at least, until you. And you had no idea what your laughter did to him.

You had formed an alliance of respect, an easy bond that would have been camaraderie if not for Kento's standoffishness. You felt him hover nearby on joint missions, close enough to lunge to your rescue, but far enough that he could resist your magnetism.

Talking, and surveying the abandoned school, you spoke aloud as you walked down the stairs.

"So perhaps I'll take the East Wing, and you take the We--ergh!"

You reeled back, having walked headfirst into a buckled ceiling. Kento stepped to your aid, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket, and lifting your chin to look at your forehead. He huffed, barely a puff of breath through his nose, wiping dust from your forehead before grumbling.

"You'll be alright. Not much in there, anyway."

You burst into laughter, and Kento electrified, absolutely rigid. You patted his chest, still giggling as you walked away, cooing back over your shoulder in a way that utterly melted him.

"So mean."

You soon learned that Nanami Kento was possibly the funniest man at Jujutsu High. Dry and unforgiving in a way that made your brittle colleagues crumble, you found yourself, instead, choking back laughter every time he crippled one with another savage put-down.

When Yuuji arrived late to a mission, Kento stepped over to him and, poe-faced, pulled up his shirtsleeve to show Yuuji his wrist.

"This," Kento hummed, flat, "is a watch. You can buy one at any good supermarket."

When a waiter slopped coffee over Kento's shoulder, Kento dabbed at it to the waiter's frantic, apologetic bowing. Kento raised a placating hand and insisted to the confused waiter.

"It's alright. I never liked this suit anyway."

When you stood at the staffroom window with him, watching a monsoon in companionable silence, Kento murmured over the rim of his mug.

"Lovely day."

He had timed it just-so, and barely concealed his lopsided smirk when you choked on your tea. Shoko walked in, drenched, looking at you and Kento in dismay. You coughed, opening your mouth to speak, but Kento got there first, firing shots.

"Is it raining?"

Shoko scoffed, sputtering, while you buckled against the windowsill.

Kento grabbed a hand towel and an umbrella, heading to the door. As Shoko reached for the towel, Kento pressed the umbrella into her hands instead, his expression flat, but his voice edged with a feral pleasure that made you come undone.

"You'll need this."

Kento's meanness was tempered only by his self-deprecation, and when you took as good as you gave, you felt his icey facade melt away completely, revealing such warmth.

It was no wonder you were drawn to each other, when the only reason neither of you laughed together, was because you were in a constant stand-off for who could remain poe-faced the longest. Kento always won.

Still, you felt the need to break him; you had cracked smiles, or the occasional chuckle out of him, but nothing more. You knew nothing more than the truest irony would do it.

The day came; you arrived, to your usual staffroom rendezvous, covered in blood. Kento paled, abandoning his book to rise immediately and reach you in three long strides.

"--you're hurt-- we'll go to Sho--"

"Kento. Stop. It's not my blood-- it's Gojo's."

Kento did a double-take, his eyes narrowing in disbelief, so you explained.

"Gojo invited himself to teach me about Curses that are 'above my paygrade', so he took me to one. I told him this Curse was clearly more powerful than it looked, and Gojo told me to step back so he could handle it. Said he'd even do it without his Infinity on. So I stepped back."

Kento's nose flared, barely perceptible.

"...and?"

You took a deep breath. "So, Gojo has a broken nose--"

Kento broke down with a wheeze, before bursting into a rich, deep rolling laughter that split the clouds with sun. His hands clasped the windowsill, his eyes crinkled, and his shoulders shook with wicked, throaty mirth.

You felt yourself becoming drunk off him, utterly intoxicated by his laughter. Kento couldn't stop himself, trembling with schadenfreude to the point of indecency.

Finally, sighing and straightening as if exhausted, Kento wiped his eyes with the side of his finger, and smiled at you with sweet adoration. Laughter still threatened to break through as he begged you.

"Would you-- would you like to go out for dinner? With me?"

You paused, your expression pained.

"Ah...no. No, thank you."

Kento froze, his face beginning to fall. You looked down at yourself, and announced, still deadpan.

"It's just-- I'm covered in blood, you see--"

That sent Kento over the edge again.

You remained content throughout the years of your marriage, for Nanami Kento to be viewed by others as boring and humourless. You found yourself jealously greedy of his rare laughter, anyway.

After marriage, you viewed it as the highest badge of honour to make him laugh like that while he was buried inside you.

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve Harrington was wearing a Hellfire t-shirt.

It was far too tight on him, the name of the club stretched wide over his chest. The sleeves dug into his biceps, making them pop even more than they usually did, and that was before he crossed his arms. 

Worse?

It was short.

Which meant the damn shirt was constantly riding up to give everyone a nice show of the smattering of hair that trailed down past the band of Harrington's jeans. 

The same hair that Eddie was determinedly not looking at. 

“Henderson, a moment?” He crooked a finger, a smile on his face that was more feral than welcoming. 

Rather than cower or even acknowledge that Eddie was two seconds away from murder, Dustin just gave him a gummy grin, all too pleased with himself and his scheme. 

“Sure Eddie. Steve, don't just stand there, go help set the booth up!” Dustin gestured to Hellfire’s sad little table, crammed all the way in the back of the gym. 

Jeff and Gareth both reacted to the suggestion like a rabid squirrel had been set upon them, nervously inching towards the other side of the booth as Harrington sighed and--shockingly--did as he was told.

‘What,’ Eddie thought angrily, ‘in the everloving fuck.’

“Do you guys mind if I set this down on the table?” Eddie heard Harrington ask as he stormed away, Dustin on his heel. 

They wandered just around the corner, out of sight and hopefully, out of the fallen king’s hearing range.

Eddie wasn't sure if Harrington would try and white knight the very much deserved dressing down he was about to give. 

Didn’t want to chance it, considering the downright weird relationship he had with Hellfire's freshmen.

(While he’d heard many a tale at his table regarding King Steve since the newest recruits had joined Hellfire, most of them dissolved into arguments without ever really going anywhere.

 Best anyone could figure out was that Dustin and Lucas had a bad case of hero worship, while Mike owned a begrudging amount of respect that hailed from a series of misadventures. 

The very same misadventures that, despite all protests to the contrary, was clearly some sort of babysitting gig for Harrington.) 

Either way, plenty of the King’s court would have loved to take this opportunity to fuck with Hellfire.

Given that Henderson was absolutely too old to require a babysitter at fourteen, Eddie would bet his lunch money that was what Steve was here to do.

Something the club couldn’t afford since they were forever and always two seconds away from being stripped of club status and banned from school grounds. 

“I would love to know what went through that all A’s brain of yours when I said,” Eddie whirled on Dustin when they were firmly in the clear, voice low and furious.  “no Henderson, do not invite King Steve to help, he is an invading force and would ruin our peaceful kingdom!?”

He clasped his hands behind his back before leaning into Dustin’s face. “Because clearly whatever you heard wasn’t that.” 

To Eddie’s continued frustration and confusion, Dustin did not treat this like the threat it was. 

None of the freshmen had ever truly treated Eddie like a threat--had somehow skipped that part of the usual onboarding ritual entirely.

Eddie, town freak and drug dealer, who had cultivated his looks and craziness to such a degree that most everyone steered clear, wasn’t used to it. 

Everyone had been afraid of him at some point in this shitty school. Jeff, Gareth, hell even half the staff--and that the dorky trio of fourteen year old's clearly thought this all was play-acting made his eye twitch.

Even if it was--maybe, sometimes--welcome. 

“I know what you said, but I’m telling you I’m right.” Dustin argued immediately, and oh God, he was using that tone again. 

A hand went up into the space between them and Eddie groaned aloud, knowing what was coming.

“First,” Dustin ticked a finger up, “Hellfire really needs the money. Even thirty dollars would get us new figures, but more than that, if we don’t fundraise, we can’t go to Gen Con!” 

Dustin's eyes bored into Eddie’s, full of fire and conviction

“Yes,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “but--”

“Second!” Dustin cut him off, and God the little shit even threw him a look while he did it, like Eddie was the one being ridiculous here!

“We had to fight just to get our table! Principal Higgins was in algebra today practically begging the mathletes to show up, but then tried to tell us we couldn't be here? That’s messed up!” 

As if denying them a spot to fundraise was the worst thing that asshole had ever done.

Eddie sighed, breath blasting out of his mouth like a dragon’s. 

“Because people think we’re freaks and satanists, Henderson. You don’t typically invite freaks and satanists to the school’s annual Holiday Bazaar. Especially not when all the local moms are paying to hawk their bullshit crafts and tupperware!” 

It was more than that of course. The Hawkins High Holiday Bazaar was a tradition spanning several years now. Starting in the gym and spilling clear into the parking lot, everyone from local artists to even some local shops came to host a small table for the day, thus growing the event from a small school fundraiser to a Hawkins' “must-do.” 

Half the fucking town was here to sell, and the other half was here to shop, which meant Principle Higgins had wanted Hellfire banned from the fucking premise. 

Eddie had been forced to pull out one of his trump cards he’d been saving--blackmail on Higgins that related to the man’s not--so--legal addiction to Percocet that he relied on Reefer Rick for. 

(And bless Rick, that hadn’t been the only tidbit he’d shared with Eddie about Higgins. That information, however, Eddie needed just so the asshat wouldn’t give him the boot from school entirely.) 

The only reason Eddie had pulled it out to secure their rightful spot, was because of Gen Con. 

It was Hellfire's White Whale, their grand adventure, and this was going to be his year to take his friends on one last epic quest to make memories of a lifetime surrounded by people who understood them.

Come hell or high water, Eddie was going to Gen Con--but being able to fundraise by selling wares and baked goods at the stupid Holiday Bazaar would go a long way to help.

Even if he had to listen to the band repeatedly play ear-bleeding renditions of Christmas songs.

“All the clubs get to have a table, and we’re a club!” Dustin continued, like it was that simple. “But you know, I get it. We look scary.” 

He gestured down to his own Hellfire shirt, before gesturing towards Eddie’s entire outfit.

Like Eddie didn't know what he looked like, let alone that he'd made this outfit specifically to scare people away from him.

(And maybe add some rockstar flair to this dinky little hick town.)

“You know who doesn’t look scary?”

Dustin held out his hands and swiveled his body like he was presenting a prize instead of gesturing in the vague direction of; 

“Steve!”

Eddie’s left eye twitched.

‘You can't kill him, you need his character for the campaign.’ He told himself firmly, even if he envisioned strangling Dustin like a chicken.

Cartoon squawking and all. 

“The King isn’t going to help us fundraise, Dustin.” Eddie said, in an effort to break down why Harrington couldn't be here. “He's just going to cause us problems that we can’t afford to have.” 

So many problems, half of which Eddie couldn't think of because if he did, he'd start spiraling.

“Really? Because as you keep saying, Steve used to be the King. People love him, Eddie! Mom’s love him.”

Eddie had pulled himself back up to his proper height a while ago, and now rocked back on his heels while he ran a hand down his face.

There was no getting through to Henderson when he was like this. 

Not unless Eddie really lost it, and it was practically club lore that he only lost it when someone missed an important game. 

One cannot keep a herd of sheep if their flock is terrified of them, after all. 

(“Perhaps you’re just a giant fucking softie.” Tiff, one of Hellfire’s graduating members, told him once. “Honestly dude, I bet you throw up stuffing.”

“Shut up Tiffany, your choker is on backwards again.” He'd spat back, completely offended and not at all trying to distract from how true that was.) 

“We can’t be satanic if Steve’s the one selling cookies!” Dustin finished doggedly. 

“We’re not even selling cookies--that’s not the point!”” Eddie shook his head, hair flying. He was not going to be sidetracked, he wasn’t!

 “Harrington is going to end up siding with all the moms about how we’re all wasting time with D&D, if he even spends the whole time at the table. Is that what you want?” 

He stuck out a ringed finger, poking at Dustin’s chest.

“Every single person who comes by our table has to be convinced D&D is a writing and math based game. Good for the mind and souls of growing, impressionable children. A game that got a bad rep because of  a few silly images.” 

A pitch he and Tiff had come up with during the third or fourth time they had to convince an adult that no, just because their shirts had a dragon on it, didn’t mean they were summoning demons in the drama room. 

“Harrington can’t do that because Harrington doesn’t even know how to play!” 

This Eddie punctuated by throwing his hands in the air. 

Given the startled look of the mother-daughter duo passing him by, clearly was louder than he’d intended--but screw it!

He was right!

Hellfire was in a precarious position to both fundraise and do a little damage control among the slightly smarter members of this shithole small town, and Harrington rolling his eyes and gossiping about how stupid it was would hinder that.

“Okay, first of all, Steve’s played D&D with me and he didn’t even kill his character.” Dustin said it like he was unveiling a smoking gun and not lying through his ass--which Eddie would absolutely be calling him on the second he was done talking. 

Because King Steve? Play D&D?

'Ha!'

“And he’s not gonna say shit because we--me, and Lucas and even Mike!--asked him to help, and he helps when its serious. I know you have some weird grudge with him, but I’m telling you Eddie he’s our golden ticket to Gen Con!” 

“You’re killing me. You are standing here, acting as a friend, when you are bringing a-- a dark force into the midst our of mission--” Eddie hissed, because he was losing the fucking fight and he knew it.

Dustin Henderson was not a man easily swayed. 

Had never been, even when the odds were stacked against him (and Grant and Gareth were howling in his ear.) 

The set of his shoulders and the glint of the little shithead’s eye meant Eddie wouldn’t be able to use him to oust Harrington--if he even could get him out without the dick causing a massive scene anyway. 

As always when outgunned, Eddie flipped to dramatics.

“Betrayed! By my own chosen heir no less!” He moaned, pressing the back of his hand over his eyes as Dustin scoffed.

"Don’t be so dramatic! Steve will help, I promise! Just don’t be a dick to him.” 

 Conversation apparently over, Dustin turned around to head back to the table

Snidely, he added over his shoulder: “Plus we’ve all caught on to the heir thing Eddie. You tell everyone that so they do what you want.” 

The dick.

“You’re too fucking smart for your own good. I’m gonna start feeding you paint chips to bring that IQ down.” Eddie muttered angrily as Dustin went back to their little table.

He gave himself a moment to get his shit together and stomp a foot like a child when Dustin was around the corner and thus couldn’t witness it, before following his wayward sheep back.

Could only pray to any deity listening that Henderson’s meddling didn’t blow up in Hellfire’s face.

[mynameisjag]

Because I just remembered, as author, I have power to do whatever the hell I want in fanfiction. The only powers in the universe that can stop me is my terrible ADD and terrible sleeping habits.

It’s a sequel to ‘Mistaken for Wolverine's and Wade's possible kid.'

There was a possible feral child running around with claws and a smart mouth.

“We'll take him home, keep him in the bathroom for a little while so Laura can get used to his scent and then slowly introduce them to each other.”

“…they aren’t cats…”

“Right, weasel family, close enough.”

Logan rolled his eyes with grunt, the smell of crushed ice and iron filling his nose, they had been following the kids scent for awhile now, enough for a quick change out of uniform to throw on street clothes.

Wade had thrown on an over large sweater with the hoodie pulled up with a face mask and glasses, Logan himself was dressed in one of his flannels.

“We look like the Unibomber and the Bounty Paper mascot have decided to go on a date at the local market.”

They were close, the tracks had lead them to a more public place, a small outdoor fruit market, but there was no sign of white hair anywhere. Though that didn’t matter if the kid could go invisible.

They were close though…

“So what’s the bet that baby wolvie can change his appearance to fit in?”

“Hmm?”

Wade nudged their shoulders together as he gave a subtle nod over to the next stall, black hair, blue eyes, different clothes…but the smell remained the same…

“Oh, boy, whoever made this designer baby knew what they were doing, still has those sharp claws and cute little fangs you both share. Congratulations to us? What we naming him?”

“Wade.”

“Right, assuming gender, my apologies.”

The man actually snorted in brief amusement, getting what he knew was a wide grin even if it was covered up, he rolled his eyes as the usually red covered merc grabbed his bicep, “He could be a Void escapee, I don’t smell any other human smells on him, let’s stay up wind right now.”

Wade gave the arm he was attached to a small squeeze, “Led the way Mr. Paper Picker Upper.”

They moved slowly through the crowd, eyes on the kid but still keeping a distance incase he picked up the super senses trait.

Lightly clawed hands were picking up apples, sniffing them then placing them down, head would tilt and the ears would twitch, he was still listening for any kind of disturbance. Eyes would focus on a fruit, then dart to the side, still wary and still watching out.

“The face shape and features are the same…need better proof though.”

“Lucky you and the need for the plot to move forward, looks like someone has itchy knuckles and a case of peekaboo.”

Sure enough, one hand was rubbing at the knuckles were a slight sheen glinted in the sunlight before disappearing.

The kid was frowning down at his own hands, distracted enough to not notice Wade casually stroll up behind him, “Baby boy, is that you! You’ve been gone for two years! We thought you were dead!”

Logan sighed tiredly, accepting his fate as he watched his partner throw his arms around the child in a crushing hug, wailing dramatically how they would be so much better parents now, they would support his interest in professional knitting and how dare he leave with a note written in cursive.

Phones were out, people were clapping over the tearful reunion, the poor kid looked shocked to be manhandled over to him by Wade.

“It’s your Daddy, I know he is currently cosplaying a lumberjack, but he’s still the asshole we love.”

Logan could only shake his head, letting out a huff before staring down the kid, “Ready to have that chat?”

Bright blue eyes glared up at him on a level of unimpressed that only teens could reach, “I don’t know, are you ready to go save Goldilocks, I think you better go off and get lost in the woods looking for her.”

“Oh, he is just the Sassiness! He gets it from me, I swear! Just an absolute deee-light!"

[wandaslovey]

𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇’𝓈 𝓆𝓊𝒶𝓇𝓇𝑒𝓁

➺ pastor’s!wife!wanda x fem!reader

wc ~ 3.4k

a/n: i just finished watching love & death for the 4th time and it made me go absolutely feral for lizzie with a southern accent. i’m debating whether or not i want to make this a short series—especially writing a second part where i better establish the background of these two characters. let me know if you guys would like a part 2!

*not proofread*

cw: brief mentions of religious background, infidelity/cheating, forbidden relationship, legal age gap, established relationship, reader almost smokes a cigarette but doesn’t, punishment, [wo]man-handling, spanking, humiliation, inspection, finger licking/sucking, praise, mommy kink, reader is kind of a whiny brat in this fic (she’s really just overstimulated), and some fluff at the end

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ୨♡୧ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

you pace back and forth along the side of a red and white striped tent, kicking up some dirt and rocks as your feet drag. your skin feels like it’s tingling and your ears cringing at the sheer amount of sounds coming from the carnival you were currently at. you reach into your bra, retrieving one of the two cigarettes you had secretly stashed there unbeknownst to wanda. it was very unlike you—the smoking—but it was a nasty habit you picked up during your rebellious teen years. wanda had been trying to break you of it for months now. she’d gone as far as taking it upon herself to search through your things every time you two escaped to a town over to be together. any time she found a pack or a lone cigarette, she would throw it away claiming that her “sweet baby” shouldn’t be doing such a thing as “harming her own lungs.”

you hadn’t actually smoked one in awhile, but knowing you were coming here today, you stashed a couple in case you became overstimulated, which you now were. it didn’t help that you were already in a sour mood upon arriving here. wanda was all smiles and encouragement, happy and chipper to spend time with you. you weren’t sure why you were in such a poor mood, especially since you got to be with her, but at the moment you couldn’t care less about the series of events that may have drove you into this corner.

you pat your other breast, seeking the lighter but it wasn’t there. shit, you must’ve left it in your overnight bag or maybe in wanda’s car. with the cigarette hanging limply from your lips, you stupidly look around you as if there would be something around you to light it.

as you step out from behind the circus-like tent, you scan the small herds of people surrounding the area. there were so many families here along with couples and groups of young teens out with their friends. you hated being in places that were overly crowded. stepping out into this scene only made you feel worse and just when you were about to step back to your makeshift hiding place, you spot wanda walking rather briskly over to you. she was clutching onto the straps of her purse with two hands, her eyes intent on you as she made her way seamlessly through the crowds to get to you. normally, the look on her face would make you cower instantly, but you were in no mood to give into her dominating presence.

the cigarette that had been dangling from your lips was now stuffed back into your bra, your hands shoving themselves into the pockets of your t-shirt dress.

“now just where the hell did you think you were going? i’ve been looking all over for you, (y/n).” her southern accent bled into her words, which under different circumstances you loved, but right now that fact didn’t matter.

you cross your arms over your chest, taking a step around her as you attempt to walk away to blend in with the other crowds of people. she easily falls into step next to you, looking at you expectantly.

“i just needed a minute,” you say in a monotone voice, looking straight forward as you walk. clearly, she’s not sufficed with your answer. you count three, four, five steps before you feel her arm wrap around your bicep, her fingers curling tightly but not painfully as she pulls you back to the side, ducking around the corner of a carnival game tent.

“what is going on with you? you’ve been nothing but a fuss pot ever since i picked you up.” she uses her thumb and forefinger to hold your chin in place as you look up at her, her other hand still holding onto your arm. you feel your tough facade begin to crack, fissures seeping into your mind that made you want to cave and pout like the little girl you felt like right now.

“mm’fine wanda,” you mumble, looking at her pretty blonde cropped hair instead of her eyes. when you were in a mood like this, her eyes were the most dangerous place to look. those green orbs wielded more power than any god you’d ever been told to believe in.

“(y/n). look at me.” she commands, her fingers gripping more firmly onto your chin. she gently shakes your head back and forth until she gets the desired reaction and your eyes meet hers. you immediately feel a little more wobbly where you stand, her eyes all but piercing into your soul. “do not lie to me. ever. do you hear me little miss? i know something is going on with you.”

your bottom lip quivers slightly, jutting out into a pout and wanda watches your eyes widen and go soft around the edges, mimicking that of a guilty puppy. you hold eye contact with her for another second and all of a sudden the invisible cracks in your mind remold themselves. you harshly turn your head to the side, freeing your chin from her grasp. you didn’t want to give into her just yet.

“don’t wanna talk about it. let’s just go have some fun or whatever the fuck it is you’re supposed to do in this godforsaken shit show.”

you turn from her, already out in the midst of groups of other people before wanda can think about grabbing you again. from her place at the side of the tent, she watches you walk away, exhaling slowly to maintain her nerve before she catches up to you.

for the next hour or so, you go from tent to tent, playing the rigged games and forcing yourself to “have fun.” after being unkind to a couple of the attendants and giving her attitude for the last while, wanda was at her wits end. she had no idea what was going on with you and no matter how gently or forcibly she probed, you refused to tell her what was wrong.

it wasn’t until your final throw at a bean bag toss that she decided enough was enough. after hearing your “this was never my idea to be here” comment under your breath, she grabs your arm again, all but dragging you out of the carnival. there was a group of teenagers who stopped to watch you as you huffed, kicked and dragged your feet along as wanda pulled you wordlessly to the parking lot, but neither you nor she could care about that now.

she rummages through her purse with her free hand, angrily retrieving her keys at last as she unlocks the car. she opens the passenger back seat door, all but shoving you inside of it before shutting the door firmly behind you. she hurries to the other side, coming into the backseat with you.

a thick silence falls over the car, her eyes burning holes into the side of your face as you had yet to look at her. wanda wasn’t sure what to say—which approach would best get through to you in this moment.

“i’m going to give you one more opportunity to explain yourself before you’re in even bigger trouble than you already are.” her voice was artificially calm. anyone else would perceive her now as perfectly composed, but you knew better. you picked up on all the subtleties—the slight shake in her voice at the end of her sentence and her hands twitching ever so slightly. you had really pushed her today and you knew a punishment was inevitable. as you sat there in the silence of the car, you realized that subconsciously you were making today enormously difficult on purpose to earn her harsher hand. you were normally such a good girl for her, but today was about pushing buttons—and you really were overstimulated from everything at the carnival.

you glance at her from your peripheral vision, inhaling slowly as you begin to fidget with your hands in your lap. wanda’s normally impeccable patience had gone thin though, and when another beat of silence passed over the two of you, she was done waiting. she reaches over the middle seat, pulling your body till it was flush with hers. she lifts your legs over her lap, bending them in a slight awkward angle from being pressed against the side of the door. a gentle hand lifts your face, her fingers smoothing some of the frizz from your hair before she tucks the strands behind your ear.

“what happened to my sweet girl, hmm?” this time her voice was genuine and warm, her facial expression softening. she knew that paired with her sugary sweet sweetness and being wrapped up in her arms, you would melt. you could never deny the fact that regardless of your mood, you always wanted to be her good girl and to please her.

your pout from earlier came back full force as you began to feel a pang of guilt growing in your tummy. you had been unfair to her today, giving her attitude for no reason and denying her comfort at every turn. she deserved better.

your nimble fingers find the collar of her blouse and you fidget with the material absentmindedly. your brows pull together like you’re thinking hard about something as you stare at a random spot on her chest.

“i’m sorry, wanda,” you mumble, the edge of a whine in your tone. she strokes the back of your head, beginning to gently coax you into that fuzzy headspace you both love so much.

“well i sure do appreciate that, but an apology’s not what i asked for, is it?” you shake your head at her question, curling further into yourself to feel smaller in her lap. she easily adjusted her arm to support the new distribution of your weight while the hand on her other arm continued to caress the side of your cheek.

it was almost pathetic how easily you gave in to her touch. it had barely been a couple of minutes and you were already feeling much more compliant.

“i…it was just loud and bright,” you state simply in a small voice, offering no further explanation. you hoped she didn’t need clarification since you didn’t feel much like talking at the moment.

“the carnival? was my darling girl feeling a little overstimulated?” she asks sympathetically, tapping her finger against your cheek so you know to look up at her. your eyes slowly drag up her neck and her face until you’re looking in her eyes again. you nod once, your pout becoming impossibly deeper. she hums, a hand at the back of your head as she presses her lips against your forehead, planting a kiss there.

“i’m sorry sugar, mommy didn’t know. you have to tell me these things, honey. as much as i’d like to, i can’t read your mind.” she kisses your temple, watching your shoulders shrug in response to her comment. you wished she could read your mind. there were so many things you knew you needed to communicate to her that your stubborn refusal prohibited you from sharing.

“i really am sorry you were uncomfortable today sweetheart, that was never my intention. now i know for next time, right?” she pauses for a moment, noticing your line of sight was on your fingers that were still fiddling with her top.

“however, you did fail to communicate your needs with me despite the fact that i tried to get you to talk to me. on top of that, you were snotty and rude to not only me, but a few of the workers at the fair. you understand that is unacceptable, right?” she watches your head nod a few times, your eyes glazing over and she knows that right now, you’re her compliant little girl and you’ve already accepted your consequences.

“mommy’s gonna have to punish you. you understand why now, don’t you baby?” you nod once, but still clutch onto the collar of her shirt, your thighs pressing together as the word “punishment” passes through her lips. it doesn’t go unnoticed by wanda, but she chooses not to acknowledge it for now.

wanda gently pries your fingers from her shirt, maneuvering the both of you until you were face down across her lap. she had one of her legs crossed over the other so your lower back had a nice arch, your ass sitting higher in the air. she lifts your dress up over your rear, bunching the material at the middle of your back.

she hums to herself, her mouth watering slightly at the sight of your cute ass framed by your cheeky baby blue lace underwear.

“oh baby doll, you have the cutest, spankable cheeks, you know that?” the first teasing smack lands on your right cheek, already warming the skin. you groan at her question, feeling your panties dampen and the urge to press your thighs more firmly together.

“i’m going to spank you 40 times. i want you to count and say ‘i’m sorry mommy,’ for each spank. understood?” her hand caresses over the skin she just smacked, soothing the slight sting.

“yes mommy,” you reply, your voice muffled as your face was half pressed into the car seat. wanda purrs at your obedience, giving your ass cheek a squeeze. “good girl,” she murmurs, still rubbing your backside.

the first real smack lands on your left cheek, your body jerking slightly from the force. “one, i’m sorry mommy.” you breath out. you weren’t expecting her to start out so strong.

another blow. “two, i’m sorry mommy.” she measured the hit, ensuring she hit the same spot twice.

smack. “three, i’m sorry mommy.” you bite your lip, your core beginning to tingle.

smack. “four, i’m sorry mommy.” you feel your arousal continuing to wet your panties.

smack. “ffive—i’m sorry mommy!” you press your thighs together, only relieving a bit of the ache that was rapidly growing between your legs.

you hadn’t taken an inordinate amount of spankings, but you experienced enough that you knew that on average, the pain just surpassed the pleasure after about 18 hits. by the sixteenth one, your small pitiful whimpers turned to whines, and by the twenty-fifth the first low sob tore through your throat. tears were beginning to prick your eyes, threatening to roll down your pink tinged cheeks.

wanda pauses after the thirtieth spank, unable to ignore your increasingly squirmy little body. she could see your legs pressed firmly together, your body desperately trying to grind down onto her thighs. she tuts, tapping the back of your thigh in a silent command to open your legs. you feel a singular finger trace down your slit through your panties, the sticky feeling causing you to groan.

“oh sweetheart, look at you—all wet and sticky..” she trails off, her finger purposely rubbing up against your clit before she swipes back down to your opening. “you like it when mommy hurts you, don’t you?” it was mostly a rhetorical question, your arousal being evidence enough.

she brings her arousal coated finger up to your lips, which you eagerly suck into your mouth. you hum around the digit, swirling your tongue around it as any last rational thoughts you had turn to static.

“such a naughty baby. good little girls aren’t supposed to get so aroused by a punishment.” she pulls her finger from your mouth, a small popping noise emitting from the action.

“mommy,” you whimper pathetically, not quite sure exactly what you were begging for. you were past thinking clearly.

“shhh, i know honey. just 10 more spanks and then i’ll be done,” she runs a soothing hand down your back and then presses it down in the middle of your lower back. her last 10 smacks are just as harsh if not more than the other 30. by the end, the tears that been building in your eyes were spilling down your cheeks and you begin sniffling as your nose starts to run.

her hand carefully rubs across your now red, inflamed skin. she marvels at the sight. it was a bit sadistic, but she loved seeing the aftermath of a good spanking.

“mmm, i love it when you cry for me, baby.” her other hand finds its way into your hair, her fingernails gently scratching against your scalp. you melt into her affection, your body laying limply across her lap.

“let’s see how much more sticky sweetness is between these legs now, hmm?” she readjusts her hold on you, her leg propping you upright so your back is nice and arched again. her finger returns to your panties, finding them completely soaked through and ruined. you hear her chuckle amusedly before she presses the soiled material up against your opening, her fingertip just barely pushing into your hole. you let out shrill whine, your hips backing up into her touch. she shushes you, sliding your panties to the side and you all but jump as her finger grazes up against your unclothed pussy. she gathers the wetness there, drawing a line up and down your slit, taunting you. you bite down hard on your bottom lip, your hips wriggling under her touch.

“hush now… let me see.. ohhh, my listen to that.” you moan, her index finger sliding tantalizingly slow inside of you. you can hear your pussy squelching as she does so, your walls desperately clamping down around her digit. she wiggles it as far as it’ll go, her knuckles brushing against your clit. she does an experimental bend of her finger, your body jerking in response as she stimulates your g-spot.

just when you start to finally feel some relief, she slowly withdraws her finger. as she pulls it away, a string of arousal clings to her finger, connecting your went cunt to her before she pulls it far enough away that it disappears. she was going to have you clean it off, but the sight was too delicious to resist. she sucks her own finger into her mouth, cleaning off the evidence of your wetness. you swear you hear a small purr of pleasure coming from her, but you couldn’t be sure with your heart pounding in your ears.

she smooths your dress back over your ass, grabbing onto your waist and twisting you so you were now sitting facing her upright on her lap. she reaches up and holds the side of your face, a twinge of a smile on her lips as she notices your dismayed expression. she pouts sympathetically, stroking your cheek with her thumb.

“what did we learn today, (y/n)?” you don’t stop pouting as you answer. “to not be mean and to communicate my feelings..” you mumble, your expression solemn and wounded as if you had just been told the saddest thing. it turned out one of the most tragic things was having wanda tease you and then leave you high and dry.

“that’s right, sweetness. good job.” she smiles warmly, kissing your nose affectionately.

“you did so good for me, sugar. mommy’s very proud of you.” she smiles encouragingly, and despite how mopey you felt about being denied an orgasm, you glow under her praise and affection. you purse your lips together as you try to smother a smile threatening to cross your lips. wanda chuckles at this, playfully tapping her finger against your nose.

“i see that smile, little girl. you can’t fool me.” she attacks the side of your face with kisses, a wide smile now erupting across your face as you giggle gleefully.

“you’re gonna make my face all soggy—quit it!” you protest lightly, half heartedly pushing against her chest to put some space between your faces. wanda makes a mock gasp.

“i beg your pardon, missy? i can give you all the kisses i want!” she growls playfully through gritted teeth before she plants more sloppy kisses all over your face. you squeal and giggle, finding that moving your face around did nothing but give her new places to kiss.

you were so happy and content in your little wanda bubble. you never wanted it to pop.

[erwinsvow]

hii shea idk if someone has already made this type of request if that's the case please ignore me but i can't stop thinking about shy!reader absolutely cock drunk asking for the first time rafe to fuck her raw and the question caught him so off guard that he felt feral and dizzy, his composure slipping away just wanting to please his sweet girl<3

hi baby omg no i don't have any reqs like this here it is hope i did it justice <33

rafe was teasing you today.

after more than an hour of back and forth at whatever party you two had gone to for the evening—and only because rafe wanted to sell and your friends had already promised they'd be there—you were more than ready to go home.

except rafe hadn't taken you home yet. instead you'd been all around the house—on rafe's lap in the living room to start. leaning in to your boyfriend's ear, you know he can tell how desperate you're getting.

you don't do well with denial anymore—rafe had spoiled you too much for that.

"can't we go now?" the words are whispered to rafe, and you rest your head on his shoulder, blinking up at him while you wait for a response. one of his hands leaves the armstand of the sofa and grips your exposed thigh, skirt riding up a little too much.

"it's early. hold out a little longer. can you do that for me?"

you think your eyes are going to roll all the way back. the answer is yes, of course, you can do that for him. you would do anything for him. you just don't want.

following that, you accompanied rafe to the other side of the house where a whole swarm of people were chasing their next high. though you should really stand next to him, you just can't find it in you today, instead staying his back, peering out every now and then like shy children do.

it's all worth it, because moments later rafe takes you upstairs, murmuring something about how you're being a good girl for holding out. there's an empty bedroom that you think is the perfect place to spend the next hour.

rafe's talking to you—though you're so deliriously horny you can't really hear him. you nod and stare up, agreeing to whatever your boyfriend wants to do, just wishing he would hurry up and do something already, when the door opens.

you're not naked, though if they had barged in a few minutes later, you might have been. and normally you think your face would be burning, that you might die of embarrassment at someone catching you like this.

instead you're just mad.

it's the owner of the house—which makes sense, since your boyfriend has brought you up to the master. he's got a girl of his own on his arm, and you grind your teeth getting up with rafe, furious and impatient now.

"at least knock next time!" you yell when you shuffle through, ignoring splutters of it's my house!

you think rafe is going to ask you what you want to do next—but he doesn't. your boyfriend, like always, knows what you need before you can even know it sometimes. you follow rafe back to his truck, ready for, at the very least, some peace and quiet.

when you finally get up to rafe's room, the buzz of the party is wearing off a bit. your feet hurt from your heels and you can't believe you yelled at someone. lost in your own thoughts, you don't even process rafe sitting down next to you, until he takes your feet into his lap, undoing the strap of your shoes for you.

it's instant—one touch from him is enough to set your skin on fire.

"oh," you say, at the sudden realization you might finally be getting what you want. you stare at where rafe is holding your ankle in place, shoes on the ground now. "thank you."

"s'nothing, kid. get on the bed." eagerly, you comply.

in the vain hope that rafe was as impatient as you are—you thought he would just fuck you already. but it seems not, with the slow way he kisses up and down your neck, down to your tits and your stomach.

you find it a lot easier to ask him for things now—a new dress, dessert, money for your nails—but it seems impossible to ask him for this, so you opt for enjoying it and staying silent.

but even then—rafe always knows when something is wrong. you're practically vibrating from anticipation—you had wanted your boyfriend to fuck you hours ago on that stupid couch from that stupid house. it seems your body was only now realize how long you'd been clenching your thighs, biting your cheek and ignoring the tense knot in your stomach.

a few touches from rafe was enough to have you practically melting—staring up and still not saying anything.

"y'okay, kid?" he asks, and you really don't know how to answer. "s'okay. you're getting what you want."

you can do this. you're patient—you've always been patient.

"can you-please, just-" alright, maybe not. "can you please just fuck me raw, please, please, just fuck me-"

of course, rafe's not stupid. he could tell you've been on edge all night, he just hadn't known why. he stares down at you, all flushed, hot skin and heavy breaths, looking up at him. he knows whatever reaction he gives you will stay on your mind, and though he can try as hard as he wants, you are impossible to say no to.

"jesus. s'that really what you want?" you nod eagerly. "can't regret this later, baby. once we do that, it's-it's serious. what if i knock you up, huh?"

rafe watches you take in the words, facing twisting in understand.

"please knock me up."

[suugarbabe]

the 'anything but' party | m.r x reader

prompt: it’s a gryffindor (maybe) party but it’s acc a theme party. the theme is dressing up as another house and reader (not a slytherin) borrows some of the boys’ quidditch clothes (like a bomber jacket or a jersey) and theo/mattheo get super jealous even though reader and him aren’t together. but it’s like he’s been after her for the whole year but she likes to play hard bc he normally doesn’t have to make any effort to have whoever girl he wants at his feet, and she doesn’t want to be just another girl, if you get what i mean? so she just shows up wearing another guys’ name and he goes feral.

word count: 2.2k

warning: angst, smut, heavy smut, 18+ MDNI!!

You were okay with parties. You weren’t ever overly obsessed with them, but the party tonight you were particularly excited about. It was a theme party. The theme being any house but your house. Very typical of the Gryffindors to throw something that will likely cause absolute chaos, but you were here for it. 

You threw on the jersey you had borrowed from Enzo Berkshire. You had a few classes with him and was even partnered with him in potions last year. When you heard about the theme he was the first person you went to. You asked if you could borrow his jersey for the party and he was more than willing to loan it out to you. 

As you threw it on it fell to about mid thigh. You thanked Merlin for Enzo’s height because now you could just wear his jersey as a dress. You turned to Luna, who had borrowed a bomber jacket from Blaise, “How do I look Lunes?”

She tilted her head, smiling and clasping her hand together, “You look marvelous! I think it would’ve suited us well to be sorted in to Slytherin.” 

You laughed a little, “Yeah, I do quite like how I look in green.” Your thoughts drifted to another Slytherin that would be able to accommodate your new favorite color. 

“Thinking about Mattheo?” Luna’s voice cut into your internal monologue and your cheeks instantly flamed. 

You did your best not to stutter over your words, “I don’t, erm, I mean why do you ask?” 

In very Luna fashion, she made no comment about you being flustered, her voice fluttering out like a feather with simple observation, “I only ask because it’s obvious that he likes you very much. It’s quite sweet, really. Are you going to finally tell him that you like him as well?”

You couldn’t help but stare at her dumbfounded. You figured your constant rejections to Mattheo’s advances made it appear to everyone that you did not reciprocate his feelings. That wasn’t actually the case, but you wanted to make him work for it. 

Girls came far too easy for Mattheo, basically throwing themselves at him. It was vomit inducing to you at times, how blatantly obvious they would be and how he essentially cherry-picked whatever girl he was feeling that particular moment. 

You weren’t going to be one of those girls, you absolutely refused it. So when you first noticed Mattheo staring at you at the beginning of the year, you just rolled your eyes anytime they connected to his. 

The first time you did this, his eyebrows shot to the ceiling, not used to this type of response from a woman. When he tried to stop you after class, you quickly shot your hand up before he could even get a word out, “Not interested, Riddle.” 

He was met with a chorus of “ohhhh’s” from his friends, which likely died down quickly due to a glare or threat from the scorned man. He tried again after that…and just about every other day from that first moment you rejected him until this morning. 

You weren’t blind, you knew Mattheo was attractive. Hell, you’ve known since the bloody sorting ceremony in first year. But the way that all of the girls swooned over him, and how he so obviously ate it up, you vowed to never be that girl. 

So for the last six years, you never really paid him any mind. You knew he was there, you knew his reputation, but he never really consumed your thoughts. So when he started staring at you, then starting actually pursuing you, you couldn’t quite understand why your heart would beat faster, or get butterflies in your stomach. 

You had boyfriends throughout your school career, even dating the quidditch captain of your house, but something about Mattheo focusing solely on you like he has made your stomach flutter like no other guy you’d been with. You weren’t even with Mattheo, but him pursuing you essentially deterred any other guy from coming up to you. 

Finishing your hair and makeup, you and Luna joined a few other Ravenclaw’s and headed to the Gryffindor common room. Walking through the portrait hole you would think there was nothing going on, but as soon as you passed through the entryway you broke the silencing charm barrier and was assaulted with the sound of bass and smell of weed. 

You looked over at Luna, who took a deep inhale, “Don’t you just love that earthy smell?” You couldn’t help but laugh at her care-free spirit. “I’m gonna go get a drink, do you want one?” Luna nodded, telling you she was going to find Blaise and to look for her in the usual spot. 

Heading to the drink table you spotted Enzo who was adorning a Ravenclaw cardigan. You had a little skip in your step, sidling up next to him and grabbing cups for you and Luna, “Well hey there, looking dashing in blue and bronze.” 

He smirked at you, leaning against the table while you got yourself a drink, “Looks like you were sorted into the wrong house. Green definitely suits you.” You turned to him, a drink in each hand, “Thank you, Enzo.” 

He held an arm out, “Shall we? I’m assuming you're not doublefisting tonight and one of those is for Miss Lovegood?” You let out a laugh, nodding and following him to the back corner where his gang of miscreants resided. You both were simply walking next to each other. Your hands were full with both drinks and while he only had one his other hand was flailing around in the air as he recounted aspects of the last Slytherin quidditch game. 

So when you reached the group, you were surprised that Mattheo’s face was set in a scowl. You quirked an eyebrow when he finally met your eyes, which took a moment as his were apparently taking their sweet time scanning your body, his eyes rolled, scoffing slightly and leaning back on the couch. 

You decided to be bold tonight, Luna’s voice from earlier in the back of your head. You greeted the others, then went and sat down next to Mattheo. As soon as your ass hit the chair, Mattheo scooted a few inches away from you. You told yourself not to be hurt by this, but he had essentially been trying to be all over you for the last month and a half. 

“What’s wrong with you?” you turned to face him, one leg now on the couch, causing the jersey you had on the ride higher on your leg. Mattheo’s eyes cast down briefly, seeing more of your skin exposed before meeting your eyes again.

“What are you wearing?” His eye contact was intense, making you squirm a little. “It’s a theme party, I’m wearing Slytherin clothes.” He let out a huff of air through his nose. You narrowed your eyes at him now, asking him again, “What’s your problem?”

He pinched the number that laid just above your left breast, your breath getting caught in your throat with how close his hands were, “You’re wearing Enzo’s jersey.” You couldn’t quite place his tone but it sounded almost like…jealousy? This made you smirk a little and now the wheels in your mind were turning. 

You shrugged your shoulders, “I thought it looked cute.” Your hands caressing the side of your body to the hem of the jersey. You saw his eyes follow your hands as you roamed your body, now focused on where your hands played with the hem, “And it’s so long on me I didn’t even have to wear any panties.” 

You saw the clench in his jaw, and you’d be lying if you said the action didn’t send a searing heat through your body. You started to pull the jersey higher up your legs, just to tease him a little. His hand shot to your wrist, “Stop.” You smirked at him, “What’s wrong, Matty?”

The nickname was something new you were toying with and it seemed to have the effect you were looking for as the grip he had on your wrist tightened. He placed his other hand on your thigh, using it as leverage to lean closer to you. 

His lips ghosted the shell of your ear, goosebumps rising along your skin, “It’s gonna be really hard for me to fuck you with Berkshire’s jersey on.” Your cheeks immediately turned red. You turned your head, staring into his eyes, faces so close your noses are nearly brushing against one another. Your heart was beating out of your chest, you feared he could hear it over the bass of the music.

Your facade was failing, quickly. The desperation you were feeling was more extreme than you could control. “Kiss me,” you requested, eyes not leaving the brown ones you were gazing at. He laughs softly, smirk adorning his face as his eyes flicker down to your lips. 

Normally that type of cockiness from him would have you leaving Mattheo there hot and bothered but tonight you found yourself leaning towards him with just as much anticipation. His mouth slotted against yours, he tasted like cigarettes and firewhiskey. You latch onto him, fisting a handful of the hufflepuff cardigan he chose for the party. 

When you finally pull away, lungs burning for air you can’t help the smile that breaks out on your face. Mattheo’s lips were red and swollen. You look at him with big eyes, silently telling him you wanted more than was possible in the open common room. 

Mattheo glanced around, searching for a solution. He stood up quickly, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward the stairs to the dorms. He led you down a hall, opening the first door he could find and pulling you in behind him. 

Before you could even glance around the room Mattheo had you pressed against the door. His arm circled your waist, sliding down the small of your back before grabbing a handful of your ass, his mouth attaching itself to your neck, sucking at biting at the soft skin there. The action had the most obscene noise leaving your throat.

His grip on your ass tightens, holding you flush against his body as he tucks a knee between your legs. You whine at the contact, the fabric of his trousers grazing against your bare clit. He braces himself with his free hand on the door, resting his forehead to yours, “Merlin, I’ve been wanting to make those noises leave that pretty mouth of yours all year.” 

You open your mouth to respond, fully prepped to give a witty retort when he pressed his leg against you again. A whimper leaves your throat this time and Mattheo looks cockier than you’ve ever seen him.

You gripped his forearm, “Matty…please.” You looked up at him through your lashes as his hand dipped under the jersey, fingertips feather light on your skin. “So needy, love. Had to wear someone else’s jersey just to get me riled up, hmm?” His head dips down, lips grazing the sensitive skin where your neck and collarbone meet. 

He bites you lightly, nipping and sucking at the skin there, surely leaving his mark in a place where it’d be hard for you to hide, claiming you as his. You’re basically grinding yourself on his leg now and Mattheo thinks he can cum from the sight of you using him for your own pleasure. 

“So wet, love, can feel you through my trousers,” Mattheo grabs your hips, stilling you against his leg emitting another whine from you. “You gonna be good f’me, love?” he was teasing you now, but that didn’t stop you from nodding pathetically. 

He dragged the material of the jersey over your hips, a gasp releasing itself from your lips as the air hits your bare center. Your teeth are sinking into your bottom lip and Mattheo drops to his knees. He puts one of your legs over his shoulder, your hand shooting to his shoulder to brace yourself as his tongue licks a stripe up your dripping cunt. 

A mewl spills from your mouth and you swear you can feel him smirk against you. Without warning he plunges two fingers deep inside you, your back arching off the door and into his touch. His free hand grabs your hip, stabilizing you against the door.

He flattens his tongue, dragging it from his fingers inside you back to your sensitive nub. Your other hand flies to his curls, fingers laced and pulling harshly. This only spurs him further, curling his fingers inside you. They rut against your g-spot, pressure building in your lower belly.

You thank Merlin for the loudness of the party because the sounds Mattheo was getting you to make were sinful. His lips are attached to your clit, mercilessly sucking and licking and humming against the bud. 

Your legs are trembling and Mattheo’s grip on your hip tightens, your vision begins to blank, mouth hanging open in a silent scream, you can’t even cry out, your mind dizzy with anything but the bliss that Mattheo is giving you between your legs as your tumbling over the edge.

He continues to eat you through your orgasm, overstimulating your clit as he slowly removes his fingers. “Fuck, Matty,” you breathe, trying to catch your breath as he lowers your leg from his shoulder. 

Mattheo stands, mouth attaching to yours immediately. You moan into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue. He trails kisses along your jaw, down your neck then up to your ear, “Now let’s get you out of this fucking jersey.”

[kaiser-s-bitch]

hi omg i have been thinking about this a lot and idk I think you could work well with my request, so I’ll just ask! How would Neuvilette and Wriothesley react to their female s/o telling them they can go raw / they can finish inside? I’m so curious~ and I hope you have fun with writing this! Neuvi and Wrio are so hot omg I am so sad I didn’t get Wrio :(

hello my dear!! thank you so much for sending this in, I finally got around to writing it ;-;

I absolutely did have fun with it, and I’m sure Wrio will honor you with His Grace pun intended during his rerun😌🙌🏼 do feel free to share more of your thoughts hehe

—————

asking them to finish inside (Neuvillette, Wriothesley) || 18+

Neuvillette:

The Iudex of Fontaine had been busy this entire week. Very busy. Too busy to spend any sort of alone-time with you, not even returning home for the night, instead spending the nights in his office, burying himself in the mountain of bureaucracy that he called his work.

Tonight was the first time after said week where he had come home to you, finally burying himself in you again… and it was driving both of you absolutely crazy.

Breathless pants of his name left your lips in a seemingly endless stream, your fingers entangled in the silky strands framing his pretty face as you gently rub your thumbs against his cheeks, the loving gesture in stark contrast to the almost feral movements of your bodies meeting one another in an unrestricted, desperate display of passion.

He was so damn close - you could see it in his face, hear it in the way his moans of pleasure got that slightly whiny edge you loved so incredibly much, feel it in the way his hips began to increasingly stutter with each stroke of his. He tried to slow down in an attempt to postpone his release, refusing to let this end just yet, not before you would be satisfied first… but you yourself had other plans.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him in even closer as you whispered in his ear "Don’t stop now, my love… Please, keep going, wanna feel you finish inside…"

He shuddered visibly, inhaling sharply in an attempt to calm himself down and keep from exploding right then and there.

It took all of the Iudex’s willpower to cease his movements, pulling away slightly to look directly into your eyes and inquiring "Are you… absolutely sure?"

Even though you were on the pill, and neither of you knew for certain whether it was even possible for him to procreate with a human, you usually never opted to take the risk… up until now.

You nod, pulling him in once more and clenching around him noticeably, your hips moving ever so slightly to coax him into going on.

"I am. It’s gonna be okay, just please…" You trail off, unable to finish the sentence, though it’s not like you needed to in order for him to understand. He nods very slowly, his empathetic nature paired with the physical need overwhelming him in this moment making it nearly impossible for him to resist your wishes (or his own body’s, for that matter).

He lets out a soft groan under his breath, starting to move against you once more, this time with more vigor and intensity, yet also trembling more than ever before. It wasn’t long until his thrusts grew sloppier, until he eventually pushed himself as deep as he could possibly go and let out a soft, shaky moan when he finally released inside of you.

Wriothesley:

The Duke was a smart and responsible man. He seemed to always know what to do and what not to do, keeping a cool head no matter the direness of a situation… but goddamn did you make that impossible for him today.

It was a certain time of the month - the time where you were especially horny and needy. And he already knew in advance: Wriothesley kept track of your monthly cycle in his calendar, ensuring that he was mentally prepared for all of your moods and could avoid additional headaches. But all that preparation didn’t help him much in this case, because how on earth would you expect him to not go completely feral when you come up to him sitting in his office, straddling his lap and rubbing yourself against him so deliciously??

He actually still had some administrative work to finish… but tomorrow would be a day too, right?

So Wriothesley ended up telling himself one of the biggest lies in human history: "JuSt tHe TiP" - which of course escalated into much, much more as you kept teasing and taunting him to keep going until he ultimately bent you over his desk, slowly sinking himself into you just the way he knew you loved.

He eventually doubles over, leaning down and pressing his chest against your back, whispering to you in a husky voice as he wraps one hand around your delicate neck: "You’ve managed to rile me up quite a bit there, darling." You only let out a soft whine in response, clenching around him desperately as you could feel yourself throbbing for more. The Duke couldn’t help but let out a stifled groan, sinking his teeth into your shoulder at the sensation.

"You’re really a piece of work, y’know that?", he then remarked with a throaty chuckle, his free hand coming down on your ass and eliciting a surprised yelp from you. He knew he wasn’t going to last any longer, you had gotten him way too weak already, so he inquired in a low rumble of a voice: "Where do you want it, princess?" He was about to pull out, but a distinct protest from you stopped him - it was as if your pussy was holding him in with a death grip, causing his eyes to roll back for a moment due to how close he was feeling to his limit.

"Stay inside, please, want you to cum inside", you babbled almost incoherently, yet the man understood every single word.

*Wrio.exe has stopped working*

You hadn’t even finished the sentence when he exploded inside of you, letting out a not-so-manly moan in the process (you fucking loved it).

[gay-dorito-dust]

remember when you did the HSR hurt/comfort reader getting injured? i absolutely NEED one with gallagher, gepard and a character of your choice. you dont have to do this right away! just been thinking about it ‼️

Blade:

Feral. Absolutely feral.

This man gets somehow even more deranged the moment you get injured.

He’s pretty much foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog the moment his eyes noticed that you were unresponsive. If anything seeing you borderline catatonic tore Blade apart in the most painful way possible, just as his desperation to get to you before anyone else could do further harm became his mission.

Bodies were going to pile up real fast as Blade practically glides across the battlefield with grace, precision and a determination to eliminate any and all that stood to stop him from getting to you.

The destruction Blade left behind in that moment was unlike anything anyone has ever seen and Blade became a lot more dangerous man than before, many have reasons to suspected that he might’ve been holding back, and it wasn’t until now did they truly believe that their theory had weight.

After getting you away from everything Blade stayed incredibly close as you got patched up, going so far as to growl and snap at anyone or anything that he believed posed a threat to you or wasn’t doing their job right; he’d even pull out his sword as an silent threat/warning as to what was to come should you get worse rather better.

‘Blade I’m fine.’ You tell him, trying to stop him from killing the poor doctor who had just stitched up the last of your wounds. ‘I’m going to be fine, just please for my sake don’t threaten people who are just doing their job.’

‘I don’t trust them.’ Was all he said while holding your hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb.

‘The wounds were too deep Blade,’ you began, ‘trust them or don’t but that doesn’t change the fact that they saved me.’ Blade didn’t say anything after that but from the clenching of his jaw and the conflicting emotions flickering in eyes, it was clear that Blade was still very much conflicted about everything.

Needless to say that after you had properly healed from all your wounds, Blade became unbearably overprotective of you much to your dismay, but if it was going to silence his doubts for good then you were more then willing to leave him to his own devices.

Gallagher:

Is more concerned about your well-being and getting you the medical attention that you required than anything else. He could have the perpetrator sniffed out within minutes, but would rather spend those precious minutes making sure you were okay and that you were going to be okay by medical professionals.

He doesn’t care if he gets shit for not having his priorities straight by Sunday, the winged cunt could fuck off and die for all Gallagher cared, because at the end of the day he was always going to choose to take care of you over his job.

He’d naturally give the job of hunting down the perpetrator to someone else of equal rank while he decides to step away from everything to take care of you as the doctors instructed. For there was just no way in hell would Gallagher abandon you when you were bed bound, it just didn’t sit right with him.

‘You alright sweetheart?’ He’d ask as he helps you sit up in bed. ‘I’m okay Gallagher thank you for everything.’ You said, smiling up at him. ‘It’s not a problem.’ Gallagher replies as he sits on the edge of your bed, flashing you a smile. ‘As long as you’re okay, that’s all I care about.’ You furrowed your brows. ‘Won’t Sunday be on your case for slacking off on the job?’

‘Maybe but who cares when that winged rat has been slowly loosing control of everything for a while now.’ The brunette said as he then shrugged his shoulders. ‘But all I care about right is making sure that you’re happy, healthy but above all, safe.’

‘But I’m already those things regardless.’ You said, squeezing his hand as he chuckled, kissing the side of your head softly. ‘Then I’ll just have to keep up the good work then hmm?’ He says cheekily before winking and lifting himself off of the bed to fetch you food and medicine for your recovery.

Gepard:

Much like Gallagher, Gepard is more concerned either your well being more so then anything else because to Gepard, you and your safety were his number one top priory.

However after seeing you get injured, he feels as though he had failed you or wasn’t fast enough to get to you, and will let it eat away at him for a long time too before you have to step in and remind him why that was absolute bullshit.

Afterwards Gepard would treat you like porcelain or glass whether he was aware of it or not. You understood why but after a while when you began to get better you’d have to start telling him to cut it out.

You’d might to sit him down and gently tell him that he didn’t always have to treat you as though you were going to break after every minor inconvenience. Gepard would immediately go red in the face and apologise for over stepping, but you’d only smile and hold his burning face in your hands and pressing kisses into his skin, which would only make his face burn even redder then before.

He’s just a sweet soul who’d do anything to protect his loved ones and takes it rather personal when he couldn’t when he shouldn’t, but that’s just the way he was and you loved him for it very, very much and you remind him of that every single day. After all at the end of the day Gepard only wants you to be safe and heal at an acceptable rate, he would even go as far as to monitor everything closely so that there be no room for any possible health complications.

Seeing you injured had made Gepard more scared more than he’d like to admit, and he would do anything and everything in his power to prevent it from happening ever again, because for as long as Gepard was still breathing he’d dedicate himself to being your shield for the rest of your lives together.

And that’s a hundred present guaranteed.

[sundew199]

Look so good

Tags: Reiner Braun x f!reader, cum play, cream pie, multiple orgasms, messy sex

Kinktober Day 10: cum play for @wintrrxxo

!!minors dni!!

"Shit that's good."

Reiner grunted from behind, releasing the grip he had on your plush cheeks, massaging them to relieve the bruising hold he had with his fingers while going in from behind. You were panting, sucking in deep breaths to get your heart rate back down to a normal speed after the absolute beating he gave to your pussy. You were so blissfully sore, thighs and biceps shaking from the strain of the position Reiner kept you in, feeling the relief that came from not arching your back anymore.

Flopping over on your side after he pulled out, you reached over for your phone while he went to grab a rag, scrolling through the missed messages and notifications that piled up. Didn't expect much less, given the two of you almost went for forty five minutes this time, unfortunately not even breaking a record.

"Spread your legs for me?" The request coming from beside you, Reiner holding a damp rag with one knee on the bed already, waiting for you to do as he asked. Slowly, ignoring the ache, you parted your legs just enough to clean the mess you and him made.

Setting your phone back on the bedside table, you waited for the warmth to touch your skin, needing the relief but still not feeling it after sometime, peaking one eye open to see what the hold up was.

He was gazing at the mess dreamily, like a work of art you'd see in a museum that just took your breath away. The rag wasn't even in his hand anymore, tossed to the side and soaking the comforter as it lay there unused.

"Reiner."

"Sorry just-" Practically moaning as he sighed his response, running the rough palms of his hands over your thighs and back down to your knees, itching with temptation that was so strong you could feel it in his touch. "Looks so good, wanna slide back in-."

You whined to drown out the end of his sentence, emphasizing the mere idea of him entering you would send you into overstimulation. But the way he looked and marveled at the sight of your cum and his leaking and smearing everywhere, made it all the more tempting.

"And do what?" Spreading your folds with two fingers, showcasing the milky white liquid flowing out of your hole, going the extra mile to push some of it back in, wincing from the sensitivity.

"Go again, obviously." Now moving to hover over you, one hand by the side of your head with the other gently trailing down your abdomen, closer and closer to your leaking cunt. Something about the way his cum leaked out of your used hole made Reiner feral, got him hard in a near instant if he stared for too long and that was the case now. "If you're up for it."

"Round two with no prep huh? Sounds intentional." Sneaking in a jab with your breathy response, watching the way his lips curled above you as his hand now hovered over yours parting your folds.

"Might be." Taking his middle finger to shove some of it back in, pressing a kiss to the center of your pinched brows, knowing it was a lot after just finishing minutes ago. A huff of air fanned over your face as he slowly shoved more of it inside, knowing his cum was deep inside and about to fuck more of it into you was making him weak, turning him greedy with wanting to fill you more than you already are.

"Can't help myself sometimes, ya know?" Breathing the words right into your ear, a rasp in his voice from how desperate he'd become from the mere idea of fucking his cum back into you and of course coming again. In a way it was addicting, you looked so good in everyday, whether it was leaking and smeared on your inner thighs or sporadically painted on your face and chest, Reiner couldn't get enough.

"Mm yeah I know." Laughing softly, letting a hand thread through the back of his hair as you peppered a few kisses to the side of his face, a small distraction as he worked in a second finger inside you to ease the linger ache and sensitivity. A small whine echoed in his ear as he took in a deep breath, pulling away from your face and sitting back on his knees, removing the cum soaked fingers to coat his cock. A groan that bordered on a sigh left his lips, his shaft sporting a milky sheen once more and he twitched in his own hand knowing it was a combination of both of your releases.

Moving to bend one of your legs at the knee, Reiner kissed the inside, sliding forward to tuck his arms behind your neck, press his bare chest to yours as the tip of his cock teased your entrance. He chuckled cumbersomely to hide the raging arousal inside him as he pushed the head past your tight ring of muscle, cracking a smile at your immediate arch and pitchy whine.

"God how do you feel even better sweetheart?" Asking to himself after he sheathed himself fully inside you, holding himself there for longer than normal, knowing he was going to cum faster no matter what.

You smiled after pulling his face back at bit, cupping your hands on either side of his face, clenching around him intentionally and drinking in the blissed expression and soft moan he gave. "Don't think I have an answer for you baby."

Reiner laughed under his breath at that, pulling his hips back only half way and pushing them forward, beginning a gentle rhythm to work his way up. You were already digging your nails into his freckled shoulder at the first thrust, so sensitive but feeling so good at the same time. Sensitivity had you writhing and arching from the start, instantly vocal with the way your pussy squelched and stretched around him, putting such a decadent display for the man above you.

"Hold still for me baby, can't keep it inside you like I want if you keep moving." Sounding rather stern as his hand came to hold you down at the hip, keeping you pinned to the bed and unable to squirm away.

"I'm trying just - fuck Reiner it's almost too much." Whining pitifully with a strain in your voice, dragging your nails down the meaty arms, leaving bright red streaks in the skin, turning something in Reiner's gut.

"You can take it," Cooing into your ear with such a seductive convincing, back to being inches from your face and running the tip of his tongue on the outer shell of your ear, making you shutter. He breathlessly laughed again when your hips rutted off the bed, trying to meet his deep long strokes and how your body reacted to the overstimulation. Oh what a sight you were for him, what a fucking sight.

His hips inevitably increased in pace after you came around him, juices mixing and smearing with the old and creating such a mess between the two of you, a mess that inflamed the fire of lust inside Reiner's gut. Making a mess with your cum and his was something he couldn't pass up, fucking his first orgasm back into your and filling you with another in the same span of time? Yeah Reiner would always find an excuse to do so.

"Such a mess, such a gorgeous mess all for me." Growling into your lips, snapping his hips hard into yours, rolling them in a circle and swallowing your whines. You were grappling every inch of his body, running your nails deep into his skin, where ever you could reach.

"Fuck - yes-" Forcing yourself to respond, repeatedly clenching around him as another orgasm was fast approaching, loosing count from the first round and this one, but knowing Reiner was keeping track.

"Want me to fill you up? Keep fucking my cum into this perfect pussy?" Asking as if the answer were far from the obvious, but wanting to hear your pretty voice tell him so.

"Mhm." Burying your face into the side of his neck, trembling against his body and to the point of tears.

"Can't hear you sweetheart." Hiding his smile in your hair, keeping the firm hold he had on your hip to snap his hips forward a couple more times.

"Yes please, want your cum, again." Whining into the sweaty skin on the side of his neck, releasing a long moan and hearing a similar response come from above,

Expecting him to pull back, Reiner surprised you when he didn't pressing his face harder into the side of your head and letting out shaky breaths that were followed by grunts and groans. Your bodies were so pressed together it was a wonder he was able to thrust into you as fast and hard as he was, but finding a way nonetheless.

"God just wanna keep you filled all the time, want you leaking for days baby." Sputtering out and giving away how close he was, simply nodding your head and whining his name, the tension in his body growing taunt with each thrust.

You muffled your sob into his neck still when you came again, feeling him pull away and hold both of your hips down, focusing on where his dick thrusted in and out of you and the absolute mess that was between you. His head fell back, jaw falling slack and his eyes squeezed shut as the final thrusts were slammed into your hips.

There was so much cum already you could barely notice the warmth of his second release filling you, and to no surprise that it immediately leaked out from the sides down his shaft and your inner thighs. Reiner huffed, wincing from his own sensitivity and overstimulation, waiting for his body to relax before pulling out.

Maybe you should've guess it when he snaked his arms under you, rolling you on top of him while still keeping himself inside. Greedy bastard he was.

Of course he reasoned with wanting to stay like this for just a moment longer and you had no energy to question him, shaking your head and pressing a lazy kiss to his lips.

Careful fingers ran up and down your spine, soothing you nearly to sleep if it weren't for the pulsing cock still inside you.

"Kinda stuff you see in porn." Amusing himself with his own comment, shamelessly smiling still even after you removed your head from his chest to give him a disapproving look.

"Filthy bastard, good god." Propping yourself on an elbow on the chisled chest you laid on, rolling your eyes with a small laugh.

"Yea, but who keeps fucking this 'filthy bastard' hm?" Cocking a brow and not missing the way tried to lift yourself off of him, immediately thwarted by the hand on your hip.

"About to be no one if you don't let me nap." Flopping back down with your face press to the center of his chest, the same hand that caressed up and down your back, giving a playful squeeze to your ass, choosing to ignore it for now.

"Mm, love you." Hearing him laugh under his breath, kissing the top of your head and the relaxation seep into his body and nothing bothering to move from the current position either of you were in, too tired to even try.

[7s3ven]

RETIRED BOXER! SIMON RILEY X BOXER! FEM! READER

( head canons / short one shot )

Notes: a little bloody, age gap (reader is younger), parental issues, cussing

- Simon expected that once he quit boxing and left his career behind him, he would never have to deal with it again. He assumed wrong. He was called back by an old friend, John Price

“I know she doesn’t look like much but trust me, she packs a punch. She’s just like you.” John slid a picture of you forward, showing Simon your bright grin. How could a girl like you be as ruthless as he had heard in the news?

Simon knew what they called you; the female version of Ghost.

- During his prime, Simon was a merciless fighter. He was known for destroying his opponents to a pulp and apparently, you borrowed his methods

- “Come back, Simon. The boxing world misses ya. Don’t you miss it too? Come back and I promise yer, I’ll you the most famous trainer this club has ever seen.” John ambitiously stated, folding his arms over his broad chest.

“Trainer?” Simon questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“You train ‘er,” John tapped your photograph, “And you’ll go down in history.”

- It didn’t take much to convince Simon to return. All he needed to see was you train and he agreed in a heartbeat

- He watched you carefully as you sparred with a teammate. It was supposed to be a mock fight but you were treating it like it was real. Beads of sweat dripped down your neck as you moved without even thinking. You were on a hunt for blood

- Simon saw your eyes light up as your fist connected with your teammate’s nose. Blood dripped down, staining their teeth. But instead of kneeling down and sobbing, they smiled

- “Only the crazy ones go up against her. We have ‘ta put out a warning that if you spar with Y/N, she’ll make ya bleed.” John states. “So, what’da ya think?”

It took Ghost a moment to reply. He slowly nodded his head. “Okay. I’ll train her.”

John whistled, beckoning you over like a damn dog. Through, in the arena, that’s all you really were.

- You were excited to be paired with Simon, aka Ghost. You had watched his fights in your late teenager years. He was an absolute legend

- Despite Simon being a little annoyed John managed to drag him back into boxing, he soon overcame it while spending time with you

- You understood his advice that no one else could. He wanted you to punch harder? You did so until your knuckles split and Simon had to patch you up. He wanted you to practice your kicks? Say no more, you spend all night practicing.

- He wanted you to perfect your signature move? No problem. He just has to be prepared to find you slumped in the corner of the training arena the next day because you refused to leave until you got it perfect

- The line between trainer and trainee blurs when Simon gives you his number in case of emergencies. You call later that night.

“We’re out of Doritos!” You yell into the phone. Simon furrows his brows in confusion, rechecking your contact name.

“Wot?” He mutters in confusion.

He hears you mumble to yourself as you check the number you had dialled. And then you’re back on the line. “Sorry, sir. Wrong number. Meant to call my roommate.”

“You still want Doritos? I got some at my place.”

You pause before speaking again. “You got any Coco Cola?” Simon loudly hums. “I’m on my way.”

- You didn’t fight fair but Simon liked that about you. You bit and scratched like a feral animal and nobody ever punished you for it because you were the crowd’s favourite. And you just so happened to have another favourite as your esteemed trainer. Simon only had to wave his hand and the charges against you for clawing at a girl’s face during a match would be dropped

- It’s not like you meant to develop a crush on your trainer. It just… happened. He was an attractive man and you were only human

- You had the stupid idea of confiding in Jonny, another trainer whom you had formed a close bond with. You expected him to keep his mouth shut but little did you know, he had a knack for blabbing

- Everything fell to shit the day you collapsed. You were a living, breathing replica of Simon but that also meant you overworked yourself. You didn’t remember much of what happened that day

- You had just gotten out of the ring, victorious and listening to the crowd cheer. You remembered how your chest ached and yet you ignored it. The match was difficult which explained the way your legs wobbled in exhaustion

- Your lips were cracked and stinging and bloody spit coated your face. You looked and felt absolutely disgusting. But you didn’t have a chance to clean your face before black dots invaded your vision and it got harder to breathe

- You remember how your head hit the concrete but everything after that was an unknown blur

- You were sitting on the rooftop after being discharged by the hospital when Simon approached you.

“Kid.”

Your jaw clenched at the wretched name. That was all he saw you as; a kid who no longer had any idea what she was fighting for. “Don’t call me that.”

“Y/N.” He corrects himself and it makes you feel a little better. “You want out of the ring? Just say the word and I’ll get yer out.”

- Simon expected you to be like him. To realize that boxing was useless without passion. But when you turned to look at him, he saw the fury in your eyes.

“I ain’t quitting, sir. I don’t quit.”

“I know you had problems with your parents. They pushed you to do things you didn’t wanna. You don’t have ‘ta do this if ya don’t want to.”

“Don’t wanna fuckin’ talk ‘bout them. You ain’t my therapist.” You were more hostile than usual thanks to the stitches in your lips.

- “Kid.” The word just slips and Simon doesn’t have enough time to take it back.

“Call me that one more fucking time!” You exclaim, “I ain’t your fucking kid! I don’t want ‘cha to be my daddy!”

- Something clicks in Simon’s head as he remembers Jonny’s drunken words during a pool match. Jonny told Simon about your crush, unintentionally outing you. No wonder you were staring at him with so much pent-up rage. You were sick of this ‘will they, won’t they’ game

- “Y/N.” He states firmly, “I know how you feel about me. Jonny ain’t exactly good at keepin’ his mouth shut.”

“If you’re gonna reject me, hurry up. I don’t got all day.” He watches as you scowl, so quick to jump to conclusions.

“Who said I was gon’ reject you?”

“The way you’re looking at me right now says it.”

“This is literally my resting face.”

- Simon isn’t good at expressing any emotion whatsoever. But the way you make him feel is different. You brought his love for boxing back

- Before your trip to the hospital, you trained daily per Simon’s request. You thought it was so he could monitor you better. In reality, he just wanted to see you more frequently. He liked the way you laughed and the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled

- “Three words, Y/N. Say ‘I like you’ and I’m yours.”

Simon knows how prideful you are. You won’t repeat after him unless you really mean it.

“I like you.” Surprisingly, you say it. You’re playing with the hem of your knitted sweater and Simon almost laughs at how ironic it is

- You’re one of the most feared boxers currently, always lusting for blood, and Simon has you like putty without even touching you

- You don’t need to speak for Simon to know what you’re indicating now. You want him to kiss you. So he does

- He leans forward, pressing his lips against yours and you swear you feel fireworks go off

- From then on, the line between trainer and trainee ceases to exist. A week later, a picture of you and Simon kissing after your latest match makes headlines

- “Was this all a hoax to get me a date?” Simon grunts before taking a small sip of his tea.

“Yup.” John shamelessly confesses, “So, how’s my matchmaking skills?”

“Fucking shit.”

“Hm. Didn’t seem too bad when I saw you and your lady kissin’ in the hallway.”

“Don’t watch us make out, yer creep.”

“Then don’t make out where I can see it. I walk that route every single day. I don’t wanna see the two of you exchanging saliva.”

[soap-brain]

i think one of the nate eliot things is that they're both fucking unhinged. there's something feral about them, something that's capable of disregarding basic humanity. we know eliot is a killer, and a ruthless one at that, and he's not afraid of being in those kind of situations, which in a way dehumanises him, this inability to feel fear.

and nate. nate!! that man is terrifying! get in line, or get out of the way is his motto, and he applies it to absolutely everyone. especially in the earlier seasons, and yes he applies it to sophie (who is unarguably closest to him) too! for maggie he decides that she will get out of the way (because falling in line with him would mean that she would break the law, and she's a Good Citizen, not a Criminal or a Thief, and it never occurs to him that it's not a black and white situation... or that his ex wife matches his crazy).

and if you do neither, he ends you. simple as that. he doesn't kill you and he doesn't physically harm you, but what he does is arguably worse, because he ruins your life in ways eliot can't.

and they very quickly recognise each other as apex predators and both allow the other to use that for their crusade. eliot is a weapon that needs pointing in the right direction, that's what he's getting out of their relationship; and nate needs someone who'll have a go at him and who he can't actually hurt. because nate ruins lives by ruining their reputations, and what reputation does eliot have to lose? and conversely, not even nate ford could convince the world that eliot spencer isn't really fucking dangerous

(sidenote: that's why making moreau watch eliot spencer decrying the evil presidential dog fights is so fucking funny. there's an excellent post about it somewhere on here)

eliot thinks he's further along the path of being something inhuman, and he also thinks nate can still be saved from becoming that too. being an insurance cop, a "good guy" (btw a very laughable concept about how working in insurance makes you a good person. like. if that were the case then how come the same "good guys" let nate's son die so they didn't have to pay for his treatment?), was what kept nate on the straight and narrow before, and now giving him something to do might stop him from going completely off the rails ("how long until you fall apart again? a guy like you can't be out of the game, that's why you were a wreck. you need the chase" is what eliot's saying to convince nate to stay with the team).

unfortunately running with criminals doesn't fix nate the way eliot would like for it to, because the guy suddenly stops recognising any and all societal rules and overcompensates by trying to keep full control of everything all the time. he is so unreasonably mad at sophie for trying to help her friend teresa who got screwed over by marcone.

"she should've known what she got into, her husband working with the mob" and cpl perry from the ep before should've known what he got into, joining the military, but for some reason he's worth helping because he didn't "choose" to become a criminal. did teresa choose to get in with the mob or did she and her husband just not have another chance?

and when the entire team agrees they want to take that job, nate throws a hissy fit. tells them all to walk if they don't like the way he runs the team.

so does leverage fix nate? maybe after five seasons. but at first it makes him worse because between "not having to abide by normal human laws anymore" and the alcohol he completely loses his restraint

and eliot gets that. eliot has been there, has completely lost any and all principles (working for moreau mostly) and is now trying to glue the pieces of himself back together into something that isn't horrible. but nate isn't there yet. nate is still violent and dangerous, and eliot is the only one on the team who isn't disgusted by it. sophie certainly is. hardison and parker are too, even if they don't say it out loud. eliot may not like it, but he gets it.

and in return, nate is the only one who knows about what happened in the big bang job. he can hold eliot back with as little as a gesture or a look and it's not a slight to eliot at all. eliot trusts nate to point him in the right direction because they both need the same thing:

to be a good man.

also:

eliot: what, you think the only thing i know how to do is bust heads? nate: no... well, yeah. eliot: hold a knife like this, cuts through an onion. hold a knife like this, cuts thought like eight yakuza in 4 seconds. screams, carnage... nate: yeah good point actually

like apart from how it's funny, any normal person would react with some version of "that's so fucked up". and nate is just like yeah nah that tracks actually, fair enough, do carry on

also @scotchiegirl something about nate and eliot and violence? sorry for tagging you aslkdjfhasdlkfj i just had ThoughtsTM

[bloodibambiidoll]

oh god anything rafe x weird!girl makes me go FERAL 👹 as someone who is also autistic, i find sm comfort in this trope 🥺 what would rafe do if he saw our weird girl humping on a pillow whining like a little puppy ??? i think i might be into pet play sorry if this is weird and not your cup of tea to write :((

Yes yes yes yes. This is sooo them I’m obsessed. Pet play, pillow humping, choking, spit kink, daddy kink, unprotected sex. 18+MDNI!!

You’re desperately whining as you grind your hips against the silk case covering the pillow below you. The fluffy fabric is squeezed tightly between your sock covered thighs asyour bare cunt desperately searches for friction. Your cheek is pressed against the sheets as drool drips from your chin with each whimper that leaves your mouth.

Rafe has been gone for two days, he had to go on a business trip and even though he fucked you three times in a row right before he left halfway through the second day you’re desperate and needy for him. And he wasn’t going to be home for hours. You were laying in bed mindlessly scrolling on your phone with a movie in the background when you started to really miss your boyfriend.

You opened your camera roll to the album that was just all him and you couldn’t help that you felt your panties dampen as you scrolled past a video of his thick, hard, cock grasped in his large hand. It sent you down a rabbit hole. You started looking at all the dirty pictures and videos you had of the two of you and before long you were a wet, needy, mess. So much so that even moving from the bed to get one of your toys seemed like too much. So instead you threw your panties off and pulled Rafe’s big shirt over your head so you could roll your hips against his pillow.

You wanted to cum so bad but no matter how fast, or how much pressure, or what angle you tried you couldn’t seem to get yourself there. You just wanted Rafe. All you could think about is how good he feels when he slides his cock deep into your slick, messy walls and how fucking good it feels when his thick length starts to roughly pump in and out of you.

You ended up restoring to propping up your phone so you could watch a video of Rafe absolutely destroying you from the back and it helped a little. You felt yourself getting closer. The sounds of his moans and praises coming from the speakers egged you on.

“Ohhh, princess. You’re such a messy need girl, look at you.” You were so lost in your chase for release that it took you a second to process that Rafe was actually in the room with you.

Only when you heard his footsteps approaching you did your eyes travel upwards to look at him. He stops at the side of the bed and his large hand reaches up to cup your jaw, the pad of his thumb running across the drool on your chin. Your grinding on the pillow doesn’t let up as you nuzzle your face against his palm and take his thumb into your mouth, humming around it.

“Just my needy little pet, huh? Couldn’t wait for daddy.” Rafe tuts as his eyes drink in the sight before him. Your phone propped up with the video of the two of you playing. The way your ass giggles with each thrust of your hips, those little white thigh highs that hug the meat of your thighs deliciously and that glazed over fucked out look you’re giving him makes him feel like he could cum just looking at you.

“Can’t cum.” You pull your head back slightly so his finger falls from your mouth, a string of spit still connecting the digit and your lips. “Need you.”

“Yeah? You need me baby? Need me so bad you resorted to humping my pillow like a pathetic little puppy?” Rafe mock pouts at you as he roughly grips onto your hips so he can flip you onto your back.

You watch as he throws his shirt over his head and makes quick work of his button and zipper, pushing his pants down enough for his cock to spring free. He grabs onto your ankles to pull you to the edge of the bed before spreading your legs open wide for him.

“Look at this messy fuckin’ cunt. All desperate and needy for me.” He runs his fingers through your slippery folds before bringing them to his cock, using your juices as lube.

“Please daddy, please.” You whine and wiggle your hips as your pussy clenches around nothing, begging to be filled. Rafe lines himself up with your entrance and slams balls deep into you in one thrust. He starts fucking into you at a brutal pace that has your feeling like you’re going to cum already. “Oh fuuuckk, yes, yes, yes.”

“Yeah, that’s it, take this fuckin’ dick like a good little pet.” Rafe’s hand grips onto your throat and that’s all it takes to have you tumbling into an earth shattering orgasm. Your pussy flutters around him as your nails claw into his back, your body tensing underneath him.

“Oh god, oh fuck, daddy yes, fuck.” He fucks you through it and doesn’t let up, bullying your walls with his cock until you cum for him again and again. All while the video of him fucking you drones on in the background.

“So fuckin’ sexy baby, creaming all over me. Gonna fuck you full of my cum. You want it?” His grip on your throat tightens as his continues to pound into you.

“Yeah, give it to me, fill me up.” You open your mouth and stick out your tongue and Rafe knows what you want. He leans down to spit onto your pink muscle and it sends you both over the edge. His cock twitching inside you as your pussy milks him for all he’s worth.

All things Rafe & his weird!girl here