#I’m quite proud of this one Ngl

[thebutchprinxe]

start my new shift as a workflow coordinator sometime next week ahhhhh

[sytoran]

𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐒 | 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐧𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐭.𝟏

you, a regular law-abiding citizen, saved the gods by accident. now, the goddess of lust, natasha, is going to grant you a wish. you could've had just about anything, but looking at the ethereal being before you, there's only one thing on your mind.

pairing: goddess!natasha x dom!fem!reader (G!P)

note: hello, folks! this is the long-awaited goddess!nat fic for the milestone event! i am quite proud of this fic, ngl... got a bit too carried away with some parts ;)

word count: 2.5k

the milestone event | main m.list | join the taglist | AO3

When you jumped in front of a speeding car to save a cat on the road, you had absolutely no clue that the cat was not, in fact, a cat.

This not-cat was a species of flerken, and it’s name was Goose. Flerkens were extremely dangerous alien creatures. At least, that’s what the Goddess of Galaxies, Carol Danvers, told you.

Trust me, meeting an intergalactic space goddess with a pet killing-machine (that looked awfully like a cat) was about as chaotic and unbelievable as you would imagine it to be.

—

“H-holy fuck!” you yelled, jumping in your seat, as a glowing woman materialised before your very eyes, in your shithole of an office. 

“I do not believe I am holy, even though I am a Goddess.” The woman stated, watching with curious eyes as you tittered over your split coffee. Lifting your laptop and muttering curses, then sifting through the messed up paperwork.

“You’re a what?” You asked distractedly, still panicking over the mess that is your desk. “My boss is actually going to murder me. Or maybe I’ll murder myself first. I am literally- Yeah, okay, how the fuck did you appear like that? And aren’t gods supposed to be like, really huge? You look kinda…… human.”

“I am a goddess.” Carol reiterated with slight annoyance. A literal extraterrestrial being was in front of your eyes, and the only thing you cared about was your damn coffee? 

“We are beings you could only ever fathom from the depths of your imagination, powerful beyond measure. Which is also why we can shapeshift to look like regular human beings, so we won’t scare the shit outta you. Which seems to have still happened.”

You let out a dry bark of laughter. Carol wasn’t sure if you thought she was funny or you were about to burst into tears.

“So, why did you decide to visit me, ever-powerful, omnipresent, all-mighty being?” You asked, half-sarcastically, half simply given up on life itself. The report you had been working on for nearly an hour had been ruined by the fiasco earlier. 

You dropped into your chair, kicking your feet up onto your desk. Loosening your black tie with a weary sigh, you looked at the Goddess’ eyes and continued. “I’m a nobody. I’m an overworked and underpaid attorney. I run on caffeine. I don’t know why or how you’re here, but I really–”

“You saved us. The Gods and Goddesses.” Carol interrupts, firm and unyielding. “We owe you, alright? You get one wish.”

“One wish, to get whatever it is you desire. Anything. Anything at all.”

—

Your story was absolutely one of zero to hero. From an ‘underpaid and overworked attorney’, to having the fucking gods of the multiverse indebted to you, it seemed like a rather unorthodox situation.

“So… what do you want?” Carol had asked you. 

“Uhm, I don’t need anything,” you mumbled, fiddling with your loosened tie. “Like, it’s totally chill between us even if I saved your cat.”

Great. Real cool, Y/N. The middle school boys could never compare to your level of failed attempts at being cool.

“Goose is not a cat, alright?” Carol commented, offended. You mutter an apology. 

“So, what do you want?” she continued impatiently. “Humans thrive off greed. You mortals always want something. What is it, money? A fancy car? A boyfr– okay, not to be stereotypical, but you’re definitely not straight. So, women on your mind?”

You splutter at her outright but nevertheless true allegation. Carol gives you this blank stare that makes you feel stupid. 

“Well, I guess, as a woman, there’s something I do want,” you speak up after a while. Carol raises her eyebrows in interest. “Something I have wanted to try, you know.”

Leaning closer to whisper your deepest desire in the goddess’ ear, Carol’s eyebrows disappear into her hairline. Her impressed, intrigued, embarrassed, and taken aback emotions all morphed into one expression, almost steals a laugh from your lips.

—

“You want me to grant you a cock.”

The Goddess of Lust sits in her throne, a picturesque image of perfection, the statement falling from her lips with such ease. There’s a lilt to her voice you can’t decipher. You just nod, looking unfalteringly at the goddess, as if it was the most normal request in the world. 

The Goddess was slightly perturbed by your lack of, well, awe. There you were, standing in her grand palace, unfazed by the multi-million dollar chandeliers and gold-framed pictures, unfazed by her.

Natasha was just about the most exquisite sight people would kill to lay their eyes upon. Soft curls framed her delicately sculpted face like curtains to a stage, magnificent deep eyes and a more than well-endowed body to complement her pretty face. Her rose-gold dress of satins and sequins dripped with money. There was the thrall she exuded, of seduction so strong that had men and women falling to their knees.

Natasha was the Goddess of Lust for sakes, and the only thing you cared about was redeeming your wish?

She would’ve been annoyed, if not for how unfairly charming you were, standing with your hands in your pockets, a charming gentlemanly smile on your face.

“What kind of cock do you want?” Natasha resorts to ask, a playful smirk on her features. “I’ve seen some interesting ones over the years, intergalactic sex is far crazier than you would imagine. Ooh, do you want tentacles to-”

“Uh, no thanks.” You say hurriedly, a hand going out of your pocket to rub at your nose. It’s the first sign of discomfort or embarrassment Natasha’s seen from you. She grins. 

“Just a regular human one?” She clarifies, pouting at you slightly. 

“That’d be great, yeah.” You respond, back to smiling brightly. Natasha frowns. She knows that there’s something under that stupid gentlemanly facade you’re putting on. She’s craving to get a taste of it.

“What size?” The Goddess asks bluntly, like a Starbucks barista asking for your order on a Monday morning.

“A regular size would be fine, I suppose.” You respond in kind, nodding to yourself assuredly. Natasha winks at you. “Ah, a regular size, I see.”

Before you can decipher that cryptic response, the Goddess stands up, a pillar of superiority and authority. She snaps her fingers, and you’re being pushed back into a fancy chair. Where did the chair come from, anyway?

You forgo the answer to that question as the Goddess begins what you would assume to be the procedure. “Sit tight.”

A surge of pain presses against your crotch area, and you almost keel forward in shock, but the pain goes as quickly as it comes. 

“Wait….. that’s it?” You ask, almost disbelievingly. Natasha nods proudly.

You look down, hands resting on your belt buckle. 

You look up at the Goddess, and she only smirks. 

You pull down your pants in swift fashion, letting out a quiet ‘whoa’ at the bulge in your boxers. It definitely feels bigger than would be regular, but then again you don’t have much knowledge of a man’s cock per se.

“Thank you,” You say, pleased with the results. Trying something new in the bedroom would definitely bring more life to your desolate days.

All too quick for the Goddess’ liking, you’re putting your clothes back on and getting ready to leave. “Thanks for your help,” You say calmly, turning to walk down the long passageway.

God, you just wanted to watch her fall apart.

As you walk, you feel Natasha’ eyes burning holes through your back. Oh, the tension was palpable, building with each step you took. It was getting harder to walk, with Natasha’s thrall like a heavyweight on your shoulders, willing you not to leave.

As you stand before the tall doors, you come to a standstill. Natasha waits in her throne with bated breath, so many words fighting to fall from the tip of her stubborn lips.

Your hand pushes down on the door handle, and that’s the last thing you can do before Natasha snaps her fingers again, and the tension is broken like a snapped coil. Suddenly, you’re pressed against her, looking into her dilated pupils.

“You’re so annoying, you know? I’ve been so fucking horny, looking at you this whole time, and you were about to get up leave?” Natasha asks, her tongue coming out to dart at her pink lips. Her hands have grasped your forearms, but your hands are cinched around her waist, disabling movement.

“No,” you breathe, head moving down to trail open-mouthed kisses along the column of her poised neck. “I was waiting for you.” The Goddess throws her head back under your fleeting touch. 

“Fuckin’ tease,” she mumbles, and you smirk against her skin. You’re rough with her, too, knowing that she isn’t made of glass, sucking purple marks into the pale skin of her neck, shoving your knee between her legs to spread them wider.

“Too much clothes,” Natasha breathes, and then with a burst of magic you’re stripped bare of any article of clothing. Her hands fly to your cock instantaneously, wrapping her delicate fingers around your semi-hard member.

You grunt against her skin, struggling to find a better position to properly have her. Since she’s sitting in the throne and you’re bent over above her, you can barely have her the way you want. Due to your lack of magical power, you resort to doing things the hard way.

Your hands slide under Goddess’ dress, going under her thighs, and then manhandling her up. Natasha’s whines of disapproval turn on deaf ears as you sit yourself in the grand chair, plopping her onto your lap. You don’t miss the way her thighs are already slightly damp.

“Need you inside now, fuck,” Natasha growls into your skin, climbing onto your cock as your hands squeeze at her thighs. You proceed to rip the fabric off her skin, deciding that there’s too much clothing restricting you from getting your hands on her.

And boy, was that a sight you’d never forget. 

“Oh!” The Goddess cries, when you lean forward to wrap your lips around her hardened bud. Your hands don’t rest for a moment, squeezing everywhere – hips, thighs, breasts, ass — whatever you can get your hands on. She’s fucking exquisite.

The stimulation seems to work wonders for Natasha’s pleasure, as she engulfs your cock in her warmth with fervour.

You gasp lowly, a throaty sound escaping your lips. Her hips and ass go up and down, working her cunt around the girth of your cock, wet and warm and slick. You can barely keep up with how desperate she is, and the fact that you have this wonder of a woman falling apart at your hands makes your heart soar.

Matching the rhythm of short upward thrusts with Natasha’s riding makes her moan out loud, a pretty melodious sound that imprints itself into your brain all at once. You wanna hear it a hundreds of times more.

Natasha gets more messy with her riding, as you suck hickeys, light ones and fierce ones, into her collarbone and her neck and breasts. You can’t resist the urge to slap her on the ass as she rides you like it’s the last day she’d be on this universe.

“Ah!” The Goddess moans, and you grip her thighs and push her down hilt deep, and her eyes roll into the back of her head. You feel her cum around your cock, so needy and desperate and mindless, and that triggers your own climax. 

Natasha hadn’t even begun to open her eyes again before she ends up on the floor and you hovering above her, your hands fervently spreading her cunt open. You duck your head down, licking a long stripe up her puffy clit. 

The Goddess writhes, unintelligible moans falling from her lips as you proceed to give her the best fucking cunnilingus of her life.

You’re more than determined to make this an unforgettable experience for the Goddess who probably had sex every other day. 

Natasha doesn’t know what the fuck you’re doing with your tongue, but you’re ravenous and your carnal desire makes her even wetter than before.

She’s slept with plenty of people, human or not, but none of them had ever been this uncouth about her pussy. Oh, it nearly drove her mad, but she was already seeing stars.

Before the Goddess registers what’s happening, your hardened cock slides into her cunt with a flippant ease once again. Natasha lets out a filthy moan as she feels it throb inside her, clenching around you hard.

You slap her thigh in retaliation, but feeling the sudden strike of pain only turns her on further. “Gonna fill you up so good,” you pant. “You won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” 

Natasha takes it as a promise, when you spread her thighs and line your cock up with her pussy. The Goddess of Lust doesn’t think she’s ever wanted anyone this bad.

You enter her roughly, your previously calm exterior completely faded away. You fuck her deeper with each thrust, opening the Goddess up. Pounding into the woman’s cunt like a woman starved, you hear her beg and cry with each thrust.

“Oh, please! More! More!” The Goddes cries, nearly screaming your name every time your blunt head pushes against her cervix. You only get spurred on further, going at a pace so painfully fast you don’t know if you’ll be able to walk tomorrow.

You swallow at the sight of this Goddess, completely breathtaking in her state of unravelling. 

“My divine Goddess,” You say, leaning down to press a kiss against the bulge of your cock at her lower stomach. 

Those words in itself have Natasha uncoiling before you, your name falling from her lips like a sacred mantra. Her walls are wrapped around your cock so tight, her nails digging into your back so hard it nearly draws blood.

“My divine Goddess,” you repeat, eyes glazed over, reaching your own climax inside her. Natasha lets out a filthy moan, feeling each throb of your cock in her as walls of cum pulse inside her, again and again. 

God, it feels so good, everything everywhere all at once, your world becoming Natasha, Natasha, Natasha. 

You think you could stay like this forever.

—

A long bath and a trip to the Goddess’ bedroom later, you’re laying on her expensive silk sheets, hair smelling like rosemilk or whatever that shampoo had been called.

You honestly don’t know how this gorgeous woman’s been charmed by your awkward humour and the coffee stain on your work shirt, but you’re definitely not complaining as she nuzzles into your neck, humming in satisfaction.

“You sure that’s the first time you’ve ever had a cock?”

taglist: @natashamaximoff69 @ohsugar-honey-iced-tea @fayhar @bibliophilicbi @screechcat @rowanyaboats @nahnahnahwhat @the-night-owl-blr @nemowevoli @wannabe-fic-reader @natsxwife @wandsmxmff @enanna-h @jemilyswhor3 @manyfandomsfanvergent @jlsammy23 @spongebobs-tie1 @kiyozoe6778 @lovebelt05 @girllcver @godsfavouritelesbiann @natashaswife4125 @ezay @forthelesbians @wlwfanfictionss @forthelesbians @cowxpoke @supaheroine @saqua14 @olsensnpm @33_mrvl @gay4ols3n @knellyc30 @eatkobi @stitch26gp @cqllarbqne @lovelyy-moonlight @diannaswhore @wandaromanoff69 @shuriri4life @inluvwithfictionalwomen @Cooldogs02 @jedi-athen-orion @alyciaddict @blackqueensforeva @lovelyy-moonlight @gingerninja1993 @yourfavdummy @iliketigolbitties @scarlttolsn @blackbirdv98 @mxxnligxt @riomiyawakisstuff @alex4424 @0DeadandCold0 @mr.romanoff @mandy-asimp @idontwannabehereatm @daenerys713 @xxsekhmet @marvel_simp @maowlxslay @lizbugwanda @peggycarter3 @flositaa @dooblekhay @aliherrerasz @theo-021 @hopelesslyfalleninlove @secretbackrooms @natasha10273 @justyourwritter69 @theo-221b @wandaromanoff69

NEXT PART | series m.list

the milestone event | main m.list | join the taglist | AO3

[hells-wasabii]

Hi!

So I just finish watching the 7th episode of Hazbin Hotel and I just couldn't help myself! I was wondering if I could request (separately) romantic headcanons for Rosie and Carmilla with a male imp reader? Ngl, Helluva Boss still has a hold on me and I just find the relationship between lower class demons and royalty demons really charming! :) And I would die for Rosie and Carmilla

A/N: I’ll be honest, I struggled a lot with this one which is why its on the shorter side. I just didn’t know how to approach it. While I did my best, I’ll admit i’m worried i might not have done this request justice. It has a lot of potential, but i’m not sure i was able to tap into that. I’ll let you guys decide that though.

Characters: Rosie, Carmilla (separate)

Type: Headcanons (x imp m!reader, General)

Rosie

In terms of actual romance I don’t think much would change. She may be a little less tempted to take a bite out of you so to speak compared to if you were a sinner demon, but that’s pretty much it.

Rosie might be an overlord, and a sinner demon to boot, but she knows, to a degree, how it feels to be treated as lesser than. Cannibals are often outcasted by other sinners in hell, other demons were weary around them. It was to the point that they’re designated their own district, Cannibal Town.

That being said, she would never let you feel that way. With her, she would make sure that you were treated as an equal, no matter the company. She herself has friends in high places, and if it were something you wanted,

Cannibal town is a strong community, proud to follow Rosie’s lead, so you wouldn’t really get any slack for being an imp, or for being in a relationship with Rosie. From them at least. Other sinners were a different matter. Most looked down on imps.

Rosie however, despite being one of the weaker overlords, still held sway. While she couldn’t do much about her fellow overlords, she could at least silence lower sinners.

Carmilla

Just like with Rosie, the actual romance wouldn’t differ much, though she would worry about you more. You’re an imp, they’re less durable than sinners and she can’t bear to see those she loves hurt. That worry is only increased when you travel to other rings where she can’t go along with you to make sure you’re alright.

Carmilla has had dealings with imps for a long time now, they were one of her biggest sources of clientele after all. In fact, that was how she initially met you.

At the time you had been working with some up and coming mob boss on the greed ring, but to be able to keep up with other already established gangs, you needed weapons. And a lot of them. That’s where you came in. The boss had approached you, one of the newbies, to go up to the pride ring and start a supply contract with Carmilla. Why he picked you of all the other members was beyond you.

Meeting the overlord was quite the experience to say the least. She thought it was cute how nervous you were. It was obvious you were new to dealing with well, deals. You stuttered, avoided eye contact, She specifically requested for you to be the main contact and things went from there.

When it comes to your relationship with Carmilla, a lot of imps simply thought you were trying to get in good with one of the biggest arms dealers in hell. Others thought you had entered into some sort of deal with the overlord. Not many would openly speak out about it however. No one wanted to get their weapon supply cut off. She’d done it before, the arms dealer would do it again in a heart beat.

[avaf00rdxx]

With my best friend

Caitlin Foord x Reader

Warnings : slight mention of anxiety, break up

Summary : in which lifelong Best friends slowly come to senses about their close connection to their number one person.

————————————————————————

2011

“hi I’m y/n” you said to a shorter girl who looked just as nervous as you.

“Yeah I know. They said your name before”

“Oh yeah of course” you said pulling your hand away as you had it out to shake. Pretty formal for 17 year olds. She then grabbed your hand from my side back up again and shook it “Caitlin”

You smiled as you both focused you attention onto the information evening of the Matilda’s new squad members.

——————

2011

“Caitlin you did it I flipping knew it!” You squealed to your roommate. She was starting for Australia, for the first time of her career and you couldn’t have been prouder.

“And I get to start with you!” She squealed as you both jumped around your hotel room.

You two were both in New Zealand when you were called about you both starting together. You made your debut last week, coming on in the last 5 minutes. But Caitlin would make her debut starting.

The game the next day: you managed to receive a pass from Clare as you ran up the field. You felt no one too close on you but you spotted Caitlin completely open just close enough to the goal, possibly not even close enough to you. You still passed to her just near the goal, a pretty impressive pass, as she sent a header straight into the back of the net. Slipping just past the keepers hands. She yelled in excitement as you jumped straight into your best friends arms.

“You did it cait!” You screamed holding her face in your hands before the rest of your Australian teammates jumped onto the two of you, causing you to collapse.

——————

2020 (quite the time jump ngl)

“Hey you” you felt arms wrap around your sweaty neck. It was your girlfriend Ona. You had just beaten her Spanish team 2-1 in your match tonight. You celebrated with your respected team after your win while ona had a chat with hers. After signing shirts and posters and doing your laps around the stadium. You were standing around with Macca, Caitlin and Alanna before your girlfriend greeted all of you.

You turned around to give her a big hug, wrapping your arms tightly around her neck. “Proud of you” she whispered as she kissed your cheek.

“Even more proud of you”

She smiled at you before you both turned back around to your three best friends “hey guys” ona said before hugging all of them.

Caitlin’s POV

Ona seemed brilliant for y/n. I don’t see her smile that much than when she’s with her. But there’s just something about her, something sour that turns me off about when she’s with y/n.

I hugged her lightly, smiling. Knowing how much this meant for y/n. Seeing us get along with her. I’ve seen Ona put stress on y/n, it’s from the long distance. Some nights in our hotel room she has been teary about how difficult it gets. I think it’s that that is bugging me.

——————

2021

“So fucking stupid” y/n sobbed into Alannas arms as we were in her hotel room. At another camp.

The long distance no longer worked for ona and my best friend. “Like it’s like all that trying and effort for the long distance wasn’t even worth it!” She exclaimed into Alan as shoulder.

“Oh Sweet Girl it was I promise it was” alanna soothed to her.

I did feel terrible. The couple had been together since when they met at Barca in 2018. And everyone loved them together. My heart ached at y/ns state. Soaking Alannas top, while Mac ran her hands through her hair. I said some words to her as I sat close to her.

After about 4 hours of room service, and 2 marvel movies. Y/n and me saw the other two girls out. As I shut the door, y/n pulled me close into a bone crushing hug. I wrapped my arms around her torso.

“Thank you for that. Love you” she said before pulling away and hopping into the shower.

—————

July 2021

Y/n’s pov

I gripped tightly onto Caitlin’s hand as the plane went through multiple stages of turbulence over the last hour. For the past 10 years, you had always held her hands during bumpy travel together. It just soothed your plane anxiety.

———

The final whistle blew as you fell to your knees. Hands covering your face. It was the semi finals, you had made it. And you went down 1-0 to Sweden. Tears slowly tried to fall out of your eyes. As you quickly brushed them away. Once finding yourself again moments later and standing up. You hugged some of the Swedish girls and then embraced Sam in a tight hug. Both showing how proud of each other you were. When in Sam’s arms, you looked over her shoulder to find your best friend standing by herself looking up to the sky in disbelief. You let yourself out of Sam’s arms before smiling at her then jogging over to Caitlin. She didn’t notice you at first as you pulled her towards you to giver her a huge hugger. Her head hung low on your shoulder, “I’m proud of you. And for that goal” you whispered.

“Thanks” she said holding you tighter. It was slightly disappointing. You were so close to reaching that gold medal, but just slipped before the last step.

————

The very short plane back to London was soothing. A smooth trip with sleepy girls. So it was very relaxing. Caitlin very quickly fell asleep in her seat next to you. She slept with her mouth hung open which made you giggle. You quickly snapped a photo before posting it to your close friends instagram story. You found yourself in your camera roll looking at the photo just taken. Then the suggestions of Caitlin box came up under the photo. You clicked on it as the photos app took you to all of the photos of you and Caitlin. From as long as you remembered. You smiled remembering the memories. She really has been the glue to your whole life.

—————

A/N

Ok so there is no romance between Caitlin and reader in this. But there be part 2 super soon so hold your nickers.

Luv yall💗💗

[vendoramachine]

Hi! Could I request separate hc for velvet and veneer x female reader (Or Gn. Whichever you're comfortable with!) where they walk in on the reader singing one of their songs and they're really good! Hitting all the notes without needing any trolls and the twin's reaction. Thanks!

velvet is up first! (veneer version is right below 😊 ) also apologies if i misinterpreted your request, i’m a little slow. feel free to request again if this isn’t what you asked for, lol!

velvet x fem reader

(headcanons)

- the first time she walked in on you singing your heart out to one of their songs, she just stood in your doorway until the song was over, jaw hung open. ( she literally just waltzed into your house with her spare key )

- when you finally realized she was there, velvet’s expression was literally unreadable.

- “y/n, tell me why the FUCK you sound so good.” velvet knew, but would never admit that you sounded better than her.

- “uh- i-is that a compliment, or…”

- paced around your room trying to wrap her head around it for at least twenty minutes

- “i never should’ve given you that damn key.”

- velvet was actually kinda jealous at how amazing you sounded, all natural. she was pissed at you in the best way possible.

- how dare her girlfriend reveal that she is even more amazing than velvet already thought?

- she was kinda pissed ngl

- “why did you never tell me that you could sing like that.”

- “damn you, y/n, for being so…” you knew what she was gonna say, but she still refused to say it

veneer x gn reader

(headcanons)

- the first time he heard you was when you were cleaning up your bedroom after he had fallen asleep during a movie

- your ass thought he was sleeping downstairs, and that it would be safe to belt out ‘sweet dreams’ like nobody else was on the planet

- he was lowkey terrified

- he also wasn’t quite sure if he was seeing or hearing things due to being hella tired

- it took him a couple business days to process how good you sounded, all natural

- he heard you singing only for like a minute before you spotted him and got shy

- “no, no, y/n, keep singing! you sound so good!” the dumbfounded look on his face was too hilarious and you literally could not focus on the song anymore

- contemplated whether or not he should tell velvet because he didn’t want her to be jealous of such NATURAL talent

- pretty much had the same reaction as his sister, just less aggressive proudness.

sorry if this one is kinda ass, i’m a little overloaded with stuff right now, but i’m trying my hardest. i will add more to these headcanons if i come up with some more, so keep your eye out! once again, thanks for being so patient, you guys. xoxo!

[dailymothanon]

Jersey got swindled by one of the classics 😔 tough day for him really. But I’m kinda fond of this duo ngl! I read quite a bit about sin cities and these two’s reputations 🤔 it’s very interesting! Nonetheless I’m quite proud of this piece so I hope y’all like it too!!

Errhh bonus Jersey Devil him as well 🤔 cuz why not

[arlestial]

Hiii can you mabye write boyfriend hcs for aiku sae shidou and luna from bllk please?💖

❝it's you and me, that's my whole world❞

synopsis : How does it feel to be their fantastic s/o ?

pairing : Aiku, Sae, Shidou, Luna x gender neutral!reader •— Blue Lock

tw : None, that’s mainly fluff and comfort (a bit suggestive on Aiku and Shidou’s part, some « feminine » pet names in Aiku’s part)

word count : 1850~ words

author-note : Hii !! Thanks for your request. To be honest, I didn’t even remembered who was Luna lmao, so I read again Blue Lock to see his face.. I swear I forgot about him. Hope you like it and that I hadn’t made them too occ !! (I’m becoming a simp for Aiku help) take care of yourself ♡

AIKU OLIVER seems quite intimidating at first, maybe because of his famousness or because of his height, but meeting him the first time made you nervous. He’s super outgoing, and straightforward (it’s a bit scary-). But when you get to know him better, he’s going to be the sweetest of these four boys ! Aiku puts his whole heart into everything if it’s for you. You want a new plushie ? He’s going to search for the perfect plushie for you, with the cutest design, your favorite color : prepare yourself, he’s gonna take some classes to learn how to make one. Alright, it won’t be the most beautiful plushie you’re gonna see but hey !! He did it with his hands ?? And it took a while to do so !! He prefers to do something more significant for you than to simply buy something (but he will buy you a lot of things, jewelry, books he thinks you’d like, ect.). He’s a flirt, ngl, he likes to embarrass you, but he always makes-up for it, by pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. I definitely think he would call you honey, sweetheart or my girl.

"- Sweetheart, I’m 200% sure eating two chocolate bars are not very good for your stomach…"

"Nah, don’t worry about me- AIKU !"

He grabbed the chocolate from your hands and put his over his head.

"I don’t wanna hear you whine like a baby because your stomach hurts, mkay ? My sweet girl can’t even take care of herself well", he said in a playful tone.

"Shut up, Aiku, and give me my chocolate bars. Now."

"Then make me, honey", he winked at you and you rolled your eyes. You approached him, hugging him, and putting your hand on his torso, in a seductive way. He felt his heart beating faster, harder in his chest, and the kiss you gave him on his neck made him feel kinda hot, his cheeks becoming red.

You snatched the chocolates bars from his hands and ran away, leaving the poor man alone, flustered. Yeah, he’s whipped for you. A big simp with absolutely no shame.

ITOSHI SAE is extremely different from Aiku. His demeanor is cold, and he was extremely distant and dry in the beginning of your friendship. Then, as the time past, he was more and more attached to you, and started catching feelings. He was so mad at himself : you probably saw him as a friend, and nothing more. Plus, he was kinda mean towards you, he thought you would like a nicer man.. but when you confessed to him, he (almost) had a smile on his face. This man’s gonna pamper you the best he can, buying you the most expansive jewelry ever, the prettiest clothing, taking you to dates often, even if he’s extremely busy. His love language is surely gift giving and quality time !! I feel like he’s very protective too, especially to soccer players; and kinda his brother, who’s one of your friends. He’s a bit insecure and he’s definitely touch starved, so you need to boost his confidence and assure him you won’t leave him anytime soon (never). He would definitely call you dear or babe.

" Sae, what are you look for ? ",you asked, seeing your boyfriend searching something in the closet of your shared home.

"My white shirt, I have an appointment with some journalist today, but I don’t find- oh."

He saw you holding out his shirt, a proud smile on your face.

"I put your shirt away this morning, I was sure you were going to be late"

"Thanks, babe", he said, a small smile creeping on his face, taking his shirt and your hand in his, kissing your knuckles gently. He put his shirt and then headed to the door of the house. You followed him.

"Don’t forget the restaurant this evening dear", he said, taking his coat.

"Mmh", you kissed him goodbye, smiling through the kiss.

"I won’t be long, I promise, love you."

SHIDOU RYUSEI is… a special lover, to say the least. Prepare yourself for tons of adventures and tons of weird stares. He has literally no shame, he’s extremely bold, even in public (this dude doesn’t understand PDA ig) and he doesn’t give a shit about people around him, not what they think of him. But when it comes to you ? Ohh man. He’s extremely proud of you, he’s gonna show you off to everyone 24/7, and if somebody says something about you that he doesn’t like, you would need to calm him fast because he’s ready to throw hands. He wants to hang-out with you all the time, he’s capable of everything for you. Definitely a simp and a hype-man !! He wants to be in your arms 24/7 and absolutely love when you praise him about his skills in soccer or in anything else. This man has a lot of respect for you, your family and friends, but he’s sometimes a bit harsh towards your friends, especially if some of them disrespect you because « it’s fun » or because they’re the « pickme » type.

"Oh hi, Y/N !", you turned your head towards the noise to see two friends you haven’t seen in a while.

"Oh, hi, long time no see ! How are you ?"

"I’m fine ! How are-" answered your first friend, before being interrupted by the second one, that was looking down at you.

"I heard you have a boyfriend now ?"

"Uh… yeah I have, I’m waiting for him to get out of his training right now. He’s a soccer player !", you responded, a bit nervous, a strained smile on your lips.

"Wondering how you get a hottie like this to even take a look at you."

You felt immediately humiliated, you haven’t seen her for almost one year and a half, and she’s already trying to belittle you ? You frowned, and she stopped laughing in a high-pitched voice to look at you again, then sighed.

"Man, you’re so sensitive, chill. It’s a joke."

"A joke is supposed to be funny, bitch."

Shidou appeared behind your second friend, pushing her towards the first one, hurting her a bit in the process.

"Get the fuck out of here now or I’m going to smash your fucking head into the concrete."

They ran away, the second one literally scared for her life, and Shidou put his hand on the small of your back, gently guiding you to the exit of the corridor.

"Don’t listen to her doll, you’re the prettiest girl in the whole world, you know that. I’m the luckiest man here."

LEONARDO LUNA is a sarcastic yet, loving man. He absolutely loves to tease you and to fluster you, it’s his hobby. Making you blush ? He’s smiling. Making you laugh ? He’s crying from your cuteness. His humor is so good, you’ve never seen a funnier man in your life, istg. He’s even more funny when you two go on a date and when he decides to judge every. single. person. that walked past both of you. He’s fond of you, and each day he has you on his side makes him realize he’s the happiest man of the world, thanks to you. He wants you to come to his games with his jersey, and he told his coach he wanted you on the bench near the field, to hold you in his arms after each win, and each defeat. You literally have him warped around your finger, he’s willing to do anything for you to be happy, even belittle himself. His friends tease him about you, but he can’t protest : you’re the light in his life, he counts the days before seeing you again (when he needs to be in a foreign country for soccer), you’re his wallpaper screen, he’s always calling you or texting you, sometimes in the middle of training.

"Luna, what are you doing ?? We’re training man", scoffed his teammate, seeing him on his phone, smiling like a kid.

"I’m texting my s/o, ‘kay? So stop disturbing me, thanks."

"You’re such a simp", he laughed.

"Shut the fuck up", Luna answered, cheeks red, embarrassed.

[littledollll]

Um, hi again! 👋 I was wondering if you could write a smut fic about sub lucifer and Dom fem angle reader. You said, and I agree with you, that angles have the ability to shift. Well, I was wondering, (and it's totally ok for you not to right this, I don't want to make you uncomfortable) if Dom reader could top lucifer and could fuck Luci (with a strap or dick, your choice and whatever your comfortable with) so hard and marks Luci as theirs. And then, maybe aome fluff at the end? Please and thank you! I hope you have a wonderful day! 😁

Pretty tears

Lucifer x Angel!reader

A/n: ngl this was so fun to write, I need more sub lucifer in my life I beg. Finally getting around to writing *cough* ✨other things✨ with Lucifer (I’m looking at u 🧸anon) (also istg if you’re reading this (yk who u are) I will kick ur ass/j)

Warnings: Dumbification, overstimulation, crying, hair pulling, choking (for like 2 seconds), orgasm control, wing play? (Is that a thing), begging, sub Lucifer, dom reader.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Lucifer was in desperate need of some stress relief, and who better than you, their devoted, and loving “pet”. What the two of you had was no secret to the realm, what they all didn’t know was that it was you who was in control. Who would expect The lightbringer to so willingly submit, to be taken down from their pedestal of power? But that was exactly what they needed.

This was your little secret. The moment you left this room it would be all over, you would go back to the silver city, and they would stand tall and proud, practically radiating confidence and dominance, dominance they very much lacked whenever you so much as appeared in the same room as them. A snap of your fingers would be enough to bring the to their knees for you, but nobody had to know that, just you.

It was quite the sight really, the oh so powerful ruler of hell itself, crying beneath you. You would never tire of their moans and pleas, begging you to be gentle, whining and whimpering about how sensitive they were as you ruthlessly rutted into them.

Lucifer didn’t need gentle and slow. You knew better than they did. They needed to be fucked dumb, to lose the ability to think for at least a moment, to have their mind blissfully empty and their body limp and marked. And you always gave them exactly what they needed.

They were positioned on their hands and knees, those beautiful wings spread out for you to touch as you please and of course you did. Nothing made them moan and whimper more than your hands smoothing over where their wings met their back. You were careful of course, in your own way.

You knew Lucifer’s limits, and you knew truly how sensitive their wings were, but all that knowledge only helped you see how much you could push before they inevitably fell apart for you. And there was truly nothing you enjoyed more than that.

One hand every so gently toying with their wings, and one so roughly pressed against their clit, circling that bundle of nerves to pull those sinful moans from Lucifer as you pounded into them.

You had been at this for hours. The stamina of an angel was not to be underestimated. Sobs racked through the room from Lucifer’s raw throat as they were sent over the edge again and again. Your body towered over theirs in this position, something Lucifer adored so much. Your fingers twisting and pinching their tortured clit while your hands contrasted that with your delicate fingers running down their back, following the texture of leathery yet soft wings.

“S-sensitive! please- ooh.” Their whining made a shiver run up your spine and you continued your ministration wishing to hear more, hips stuttering against their own as you tried holding off a little longer.

They tried squirming away from the ongoing torture and all it took to get them to still was your hand, pushing Lucifer into the bed by the back of their neck and holding them down, rendering their arms useless beneath them. The sound of your moans and skin on skin was driving them insane.

“You so pathetically call for me to assist you, to serve your selfish needs and risk my position in the ranks of the silver city just so you can squirm away when I treat you how you deserve? How you beg me to?” Your hand moved to the nape of their neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling them up to meet you as you bent over them. Short but hard thrusts forcing their mouth agape and they tried so hard to look at you through half lidded eyes, tears streaming down their face.

“You should be grateful. You should be thanking me instead of crying those pretty tears.” And they tried, they really did. But all that came out were choked sobs and more whimpers.

“What would your subjects think if they saw their pathetic ruler getting fucked brainless? They all think I’m your loyal pet. Shall I let them all see the truth? Should I mark you where they can all see? fuck-“ You moaned right next to their ear, such a heavenly sound. “m gonna cum, I’ll fill you up real nice, pet.” A poorly timed and exhausted “please..” tore from their throat as they orgasmed with you for the nth time, and you could see the brief panic flash in their eyes once they registered what you were saying.

You chuckled, finally slowing your bruising thrusts, you planted a kiss on their temple before pulling out and sitting against the headboard. “You’re gonna give me one more.. Can you do that for me, pet?” Every time you said that word it was in the most bitter and degrading way possible. Lucifer loved it. They gave you an exhausted nod before practically collapsing onto bed.

“So good for me.. you can’t even sit up by yourself but you’re gonna let me keep playing? Turn for me Luci, I want you with your back against my chest.” Your warm skin felt so nice against their own. A slight shiver ran up their body to the tips of their wings as one of your hands caressed their thigh the other kept them spread apart.

You hummed as their body squirmed at the slightest touch, leaning right into their ear you whispered praise to them, not that Lucifer could even register anything other than the feeling of your breathing against their neck.

They gasped the second you made contact with their aching center, rubbing slow circles in hopes to ease the overstimulation just slightly. Their hips bucked and you giggled nuzzling into their neck and mumbling, “So needy..” they did nothing to disprove that statement, instead nodding in agreement with a whine.

You allowed them to rut against your hand while you busied yourself marking their neck and shoulders. “Love-”

Lucifer was interrupted with a shush. “Not yet.”

“N-no I can’t, please-“ they were met with a harsh slap to their thigh as it threatened to close around your hand. “I said, Not. Yet. Do you want it to turn into not tonight?” They shook their head as their whined grew louder and louder, “I need to-“ thighs shaking as they held back with what little restraint they had left. “Go on, pet.”

They came with a loud cry. Legs snapping shut trapping your hand as they used you to ride out their high. “That’s it luci.. ride it out, so good for me.”

They turned as they regained their breath, nuzzling into your neck, panting and whimpering.

They would be the cause of your fall, you knew that. And you anxiously awaited the day, so you could finally spend all your days here. No back and fourth, no waiting for a call, no sneaking in or out. Freedom. Isn’t that what you always truly wanted?

[jamminvroomvroom]

a golf swing and a trampoline

LN x fem!reader

read part 2: karma rules!

read part 3: you bring blue lights.

(i have no fucking idea where this gif came from, found it deep in the roll. if it’s urs hmu!!)

this is just angst and smut bc i’m depressed and horny. i really have nothing to add. ngl i’m half super proud of this and half meh so yannoooo we move. lemme know what you think, it is essential to my existence. <33 also fyi the max in this is max fewtrell just to clarify lmao

based on little freak by harry styles. lando is a little freak tbh so i think it’s very fitting. gremlin.

in which lando is a little bit too interested in max’s former fling.

warnings: smut, angst, language, alcohol, max being a prick (not his fault, bless him)

8.6k words (wtf how)

guilt was a funny thing. not the laugh out loud kind, but the peculiar, hole in the pit of your stomach, nail biting kind. lando hated biting his nails. he hated biting his nails, almost as much as he hated himself for telling max that he could bring some random girl that lando had never met to the golfing green with them. he hated that you’d arrived, the other half of max’s latest situationship, and made lando stare. he hated that you had the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen and he hated that your golf skirt was so short and he hated that max had met you first.

the hatred evolved. he despised that you were funny, that you let max wrap his arms around you and show you how to swing, that you were so captivating, that his mouth was hanging open the entire fucking afternoon because of how disgustingly perfect you were.

lando had been so incredibly grateful when the eighteenth hole appeared in the distance. he’d never been so excited to leave the green before, but on that particular day, he would have been happy to never play golf again. when he’d shut the door to his mclaren and sped out of the car park, he’d let out a sigh of relief so loud that you and max probably could have heard it if you weren’t staring at each other, rather pathetically lando thought. he probably wouldn’t have found is quite as pathetic had he been the one on the other end of your gaze.

when he’d checked his mirrors and saw you staring after him while max gave you the heart eyes, he’d hoped and prayed that you were a gold digger and that you just fancied yourself a rich boyfriend that could take you out in his friends mclaren.

of course, he was wrong.

-

you and max hadn’t lasted long and lando could breath again. he wasn’t going to go after you, he wouldn’t jump in max’s grave like that, no matter how much he might have wanted to. he was mostly relieved because it meant that you’d be out of his life, gone and forgotten, as quickly as you’d raced into it on a golf buggy on a sunny tuesday afternoon. there was no longer anything to worry about, aside from the fact that max was a bit more hung up on you than he usually got with his flings. lando understood it. he was hung up on you and you were never even his.

life went on, somewhat pleasantly, normally, boringly, until max had the fantastic idea that he wanted to be your friend. it was all part of some master plan to win you back, even though lando quite desperately tried to convince him that there were plenty of other women out there that he could go and annoy, urging his bearded friend to go for a scroll on instagram and reconsider. of course max didn’t listen. you were back in no time, suddenly in lando’s eye-line at every single party, bar, restaurant, golf club, until he gave in to his urges and just let himself look at you properly. he realised how shameful he was; he always gave in so quickly, unable to look away. more often than not, you caught him staring and lando wished he could tell in the dim lighting if you actually were blushing or if the lights were playing tricks on him.

he spent more time than he cared to admit wondering how long it would take until you were back with max. it irked him greatly, pushing every single one of his buttons, gnawing away at him. all of his obsessive thinking made him realise that monaco wasn’t just good for private beaches and tax evasion. at least he didn’t have to see you all the time, and the same went for max. he struggled to look his best mate in the eyes these days.

there was a glimmer of hope one evening in london when he’d overheard max drunkenly putting a move on you as you were all leaving a bar, only to be shot down instantly. you stroked his shoulder as you spoke so carefully.

“just think we’re better as friends, max.” that part of your little speech lando very much enjoyed, but he didn’t like the way his stomach twisted when you’d told max that you weren’t looking for anything at the moment. lando was distracted by his other friends, missing your whisper to max that someone else had caught your eye and it wouldn’t be fair to lead him on like that.

max spent the following weeks praying that you’d fall madly in love with him while lando and the rest of the group tried to agree on a holiday destination for the summer break. greece was looking like a solid option, croatia again was an idea, “why don’t we just go and sit on lando’s private beach in monaco ha ha ha” was even briefly on the table. eventually, when max’s broken heart had healed, he threw himself into the middle of the heated holiday debate and soon enough, a villa was booked in santorini. flights were booked, and lando almost spat his water out when he saw your name flash up on max’s booking confirmation.

“why the fuck is she coming?“ he’d spluttered at max, eyes wide as panic arose in his chest.

“because she’s our friend?“ max explained, as if lando was the stupid one.

“how many times has this girl rejected you now?” lando raised an eyebrow, trying to cover up the fact that he was an unstable mix of devastated and excited by your attendance, whilst also trying to subtly remind max that you simply didn’t want him.

“don’t worry, mate. i’ve got a plan.” max grinned and lando grimaced.

lando wished that he had the luxury of having a plan. he was utterly, utterly fucked. two weeks with you in a confined space? not even god could help him now. he’d just have to do his best to stay completely out of your way, and perhaps even max’s. truthfully, it was quite sad to watch his friend strike out over and over again, not as entertaining to witness as it usually was, even if he did want you all to himself.

and so, lando finished up his first half of the season and made his way to greece. he’d managed to ignore you as politely as he could the entire journey there, giving you nothing but a tight smile when you’d arrived at the airport. he was quite proud of himself for not looking over at you the entire flight, despite feeling like a bit of an asshole, but that wasn’t exactly a new feeling. he watched max talk your ear off as you’d walked through the greek airport, watched the way you laughed at all his jokes and spoke so animatedly with him. it made his jaw clench, fingers drumming rapidly against his suitcase handle in annoyance, picturing the likely scene of you and max rekindling your short lived romance under the sunshine. lando tried to drown your excited voice out, instead focusing on the grating sound of the wheels of his suitcase rolling against the tiled floor.

when he’d reached the taxi that had been hired to take your group to the villa that max had booked, he flopped tiredly against the seat, exhaustion from the last few weeks taking over. he was so drained, physically and emotionally, and truthfully, he was happy to be away from all the noise, even if that meant playing a part in max’s coming of age summer chick flick that he was intent on starring in. as lando’s eyes fluttered shut, he felt someone slide into the seat next to his, and he cracked an eye open to see who it was. of course it was you, life could never be too kind, and you gave him a small wave, flashing him a heart stopping grin. he smiled back, rather awkwardly, and tried to relax with you sat mere centimetres away.

his eyes closed again, this time with force. he felt your leg brush against his, ever so subtly, and jolted upright, wriggling around to try and create some space. when he looked back over at you, ever so slightly turning his head so that you wouldn’t notice, he could have sworn there was a hint of a smirk on your face, a minuscule trace that made him want to kiss you. did you know? surely you couldn’t. but what if you did? he’d be in big trouble.

the top half of your face was covered by your dark sunglasses, which meant that he couldn’t see your eyes, a great shame in his opinion. he’d given up trying to pretend that he wasn’t looking at you, head shamelessly turned all the way to his right to watch you look out the window. he felt at peace, a strange sense of calm washing over him as he took you in. you looked so content, head leant against the glass to take in the view that flashed past before your eyes, that it made lando relax once more.

he didn’t remember falling asleep, but it was one of the better naps he’d had in a while.

-

the lack of motion from the car lulled lando out of his slumber. he was awake, aware, but his eyes were still shut, mostly because he didn’t want to face up to what had turned into a rather awkward run of events. he was slumped to the right, head resting in the crook of someone’s neck, a floral scent attacking every single one of his senses. he could feel soft strands of hair tickling his face and the rise and fall of the persons chest. what concerned him the most, however, was the way his hand was positioned, holding on firmly to a thigh, his fingers stroking slowly over the bare skin. lando stopped breathing at the realisation that not only had he fallen asleep on you, his hands had begun to wander of their own accord.

there was absolutely no way of saving himself, not a single way of getting out of this situation unscathed. he was tempted to jump out of the car and run for his life, but that would only get him so far, and he wasn’t really in the mood to cause a scene. slowly, he opened his eyes, sitting up. he heard you giggle, making him freeze, eyes darting up to meet yours. your lips were so close to his, your faces not even inches apart and for a split second, he imagined what life would be like without max. it was evil but he couldn’t help but wonder, not when he could feel your breath fanning his face.

“are you okay, sleeping beauty?” you whispered. he was obsessed with the way your lips moved.

“um, i’m, um, really sorry.” he swallowed hard, moving slowly to try and back away from your overly inviting face. he didn’t get very far, nose brushing yours as he moved, once again stopping him in his tracks.

“don’t be.” you murmured, voice barely audible, but he could feel the vibration of your words. he was far too close. he darted back, pressing his head against the headrest, staring forward. he let out a shaky breath. he heard the door handle click, watching you swing your legs out first and climb out of the taxi.

“want me to leave this open for you, or are you going for a spin with the taxi driver?” you were smirking at him, apparently very much amused by the sight of him. lando knew exactly what he must have looked like, a shaky, undignified heap that couldn’t keep his hands to himself. he scoffed, springing into action, sliding out of the car until his trainer clad feet hit the floor.

suddenly he was standing over you, hot sun beating down on both of you. he reached for the hem of his hoodie, pulling it over his head quickly, his t-shirt coming with it. when his head emerged from the material, t-shirt still bunched up around his abdomen, it was his turn to be amused. there was no denying it, your eyes were fixed on the small patch of tanned skin, his abs tightening as his stomach jumped in adulation. as quickly as you’d looked, you’d averted your eyes, fixing them back on his. you decided to smile, seemingly unfazed despite being caught.

“come on lando, everyone else is already inside. your beauty sleep is really eating into this trip.” you teased.

“i think that’s the second time you’ve called me beautiful today, love.” he didn’t know where he’d found the confidence to reply in such a way, but it was totally worth it when he heard you laugh. love.

“do you like being called beautiful, norris? do we have something to unpack here? is it ego?” you deadpanned, joking back, again totally unfazed. he picked up your bag effortlessly, as well as his own, and the both of you walked towards the white stone villa.

“maybe i like it when you do it.” he hoped that his voice signified that he was joking, and not that he was pathetically infatuated with you.

“i’ll keep that in mind.” you winked. you both laughed, making your way up the marble steps to the front door, which suddenly swung open. max was stood at the threshold, a smile on his face that lando knew to be fake.

“there you both are.” he reached out to lando, who quickly realised that max wanted your bag.

“yeah, sorry. someone was in quite a deep sleep.” either you didn’t know that max’s smile was completely false or you simply didn’t care, continuing to give lando that small, flirty smile that left him with butterflies.

when lando looked back at max, still waiting for your bag with his hand outstretched, eyes flickering between you and lando suspiciously, the butterflies died and turned into knots. the last thing lando needed was for max to find out about his silly little feelings.

lando knew that he should have given your bag over to max. you were his guest, his… well lando didn’t really know what you were. but he knew that the bag was more than a bag. it was a symbol, a piece of you, and when lando stepped around max, taking it with him, he knew that he might have just accidentally declared war. lando walked through the door, and into the hallway, eyeing up the large staircase that led to the bedrooms. he didn’t look back, climbing the extravagant staircase, leaving your bag at the top, a flag on the top of the mountain. but lando had not conquered you. he didn’t want to. conquer seemed like a dirty word where you were concerned. you were not a conquest, you were magnificent, you were sunlight.

he didn’t want to get into some kind of pissing contest with max over you. that was degrading, childish. you were not a prize to be won, nor did he want to win you. he thought about this as he searched for an empty room, replaying the moment he’d woken up over and over and over in his head. the soft rise and fall of your chest, the ends of your hair tickling his nose, the soft skin of your thigh under his firm touch.

the things he wanted to do to you.

it was embarrassing to be so caught up in a single touch, as if he was a teenager again, but you just felt so good in his hands. and then your wit? the rapid way that your mind worked, teasing him, winding him up so skilfully? that delicate point of view of yours that left him dizzy? he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

he sauntered into one of the bedrooms, leaving the door open and slinging his suitcase onto the bed, starting to lazily unpack his stuff. as he was hanging up a shirt, the light pink one that reminded him of a wild night with pierre gasly, he caught sight of a figure in his peripheral vision, leaning against the doorframe. he turned to face you, quirking an eyebrow at the sight of you.

“domestic goddess looks good on you, lando. don’t think i’ve ever seen a guy hang up clothes before, so forgive me for staring.” he was quite honestly obsessed with you and the way your voice sounded when you were blatantly making fun of him. he floundered embarrassingly for a response, not knowing what to say back to match your banter. you beat him to it anyway. “looks like we’re neighbours.” you smiled, taking your weight off of the doorframe, padding down the hallway to the room next door.

“did you know this place has a trampoline?” he heard you exclaim in disbelief and excitement as you were walking down the hall. he did know, and hadn’t really been bothered much by the information, but hearing the simple joy in your voice made him do a one eighty. suddenly, trampolines were the best thing in the world and he laughed quietly to himself, so glad that you couldn’t see the stupid, lovesick smile on his face.

-

a few days has passed, and lando had managed to force himself to relax. of course it was difficult, given that max found a way to put his hands on you when he knew lando was watching. lando wouldn’t play ball, wouldn’t let this become some kind of unspoken contest, because he respected you. not to say that max didn’t, but he was still trying desperately to pursue you, despite not getting anywhere at all. it all seemed to boil over a little bit over dinner one evening.

the air was hot, feeling as if it was getting heavier by the second. lando had a headache, probably made worse by the beer stood on the table next to his plate. he considered going back onto the ginger ale. he’d been quiet all evening, stewing in annoyance as he listening to max go on and on and on about taking you to this little restaurant him and a few of the others had found earlier that day. you’d been at the villa all day, along with lando and the remaining members of the friend group, lounging by the pool. lando had felt proud of himself that he’d decided to stay before you had, and that you hadn’t swayed his decision. he felt a bit less of that pride when he wondered, or, more accurately, prayed, that he’d swayed yours.

all throughout the dinner, max had droned on and on while you sipped your red wine and lando simply couldn’t take it. he wanted to take you to a tiny restaurant, he wanted to show you the sights, he wanted to be sat next to you, not so subtly whispering sweet nothings in your ear. he wanted max to shut the fuck up, or to simply leave. it was awful, but he’d gotten used to being awful. he felt petty and angry and fed up, and that’s why he let his hand slip, the tall beer glass crashing down onto the table, conveniently splashing all over max, covering him.

max shot up out his seat, and lando sat their motionless, slightly shocked with himself. he hoped that no one noticed that it was absolutely on purpose, turning around suddenly to throw a sorry over his shoulder to max, who was making his way inside, an apology that he didn’t at all mean. he’d gotten his wish; max was gone and you were sat on the other side of the empty chair that max had abandoned, staring at lando.

“‘m gonna get something to clear this up.” lando muttered, trudging from the outdoor table towards the glass doors that would take him into the kitchen. as he was picking up the kitchen roll, he heard the door open and close again behind him. he sighed, knowing exactly who it was that had joined him.

“why did you do that?” you asked simply. you didn’t sound amused, or irritated, or anything really. you sounded genuine, as if you really wanted to know the answer.

“do what?” lando decided to play dumb, not feeling like admitting just how pathetic he really was.

“lando, i saw you waste a perfectly good beer. if you didn’t want it, i would have happily drank it.” you made your usual jokes but for once lando didn’t want to hear it.

“he was getting on my nerves.” lando still hadn’t turned around to face you, instead he busied himself, fiddling with the paper towels in his hand.

“why?” one of your hands rose to sit on your hip, almost accusingly.

“i feel like you’re interviewing me.” lando scoffed, trying to make light of the situation.

“well i feel like you should be honest with me.” was your rebuttal.

“i can’t.” his voice was quiet, timid, a little bit stressed.

“why?”

“stop asking me ‘why’.” he was flustered.

“stop avoiding my questions.”

“you know, i see the way you look at me. i think you know the answers to your own questions. so just stop. i can’t say anything else. you know i can’t. so just stop. with the looks and the jokes and the flirting. stop.” he didn’t know what had come over him, and when he heard you let out a shaky breath behind him, he knew that you didn’t either.

“do you really want me to?” your voice was soft, and your words knocked the air out of him.

“i need you to.” he responded desperately.

“that’s not the same thing.” you pressed on.

when he didn’t respond, or move, or breathe, you sighed. you let yourself out of the kitchen and rejoined the rest of the group. lando suddenly felt claustrophobic in the giant kitchen, the kitchen roll feeling too heavy in his hands. he held the weight of his mistake in his hands, of wanting max out of his way and wanting you all to himself. he abandoned the kitchen roll, tossing it back onto the side and made a beeline for his bedroom, completely blanking max who was on his way back outside, adorning a clean, dry shirt.

“mate?” he heard max call out to him, when he was halfway up the stairs.

“not feeling good.” lando mumbled, not even sure that max had heard him, but he knew that his friend must have heard the way his door slammed, hitting the wood of its frame with force.

lando let out a frustrated groan, throwing himself down onto the bed. he laid perfectly still, flat on his back, glaring at the ceiling, as if he was mad at it, rather than himself. he’d made his bed, and he’d have to lay in it, no pun intended as he fisted the material of his bedding, cool against his flushed skin.

what did you want from him? did you really feel anything for him at all? did you really want to keep playing such a dangerous game? max was right there, longing for you openly, but you wanted him instead?

lando wondered what he could have possibly done to be so unlucky. the girl of his dreams, stood right behind him, egging him on to admit his sad little feelings for her, while his friend, her former boyfriend, was upstairs changing a shirt that lando had stained? it was practically laughable, and definitely fucked up.

lando didn’t really know how much time had passed. he heard everyone trail back to their rooms eventually, wondering what time it was for them to all have retired to bed. he felt choked by the still, humid air of the room he’d imprisoned himself in, gasping for breath all of the sudden as he sat upright. he tugged off his shirt, tossing it carelessly onto the floor, a crumpled mess, unlike the ones that hung pristinely in the wardrobe. the lack of material did nothing to help him. he need to move, he needed fresh air, he needed clarity. as quietly as he could, he tiptoed out of his room, trying to make sure that he shut the door behind him carefully. he spared your door a glance, noticing the lack of light spilling underneath it.

once he was downstairs, he was a little bit less careful, no longer so worried about being silent. he let himself out of the back door in the kitchen, glancing at the abandoned dining table on the patio, since cleared up after dinners antics. there wasn’t a trace of the evenings events, aside from someone’s jumper, a half empty ashtray and a can of beer tucked under a chair.

he carried on walking, making his way further down the garden. he stopped briefly next to the pool, the clear water now overcast with shadows from the dark night. there were little pools of light breaking out across the surface, a symptom of the fairy lights that hung over the tall fences, keeping the world out. he thought about you, for a fleeting second, how majestic you’d looked getting out of that very water, droplets skimming your body and falling away to the ground. you’d eyed him, tempting him into the cool water as you’d wrapped yourself in a towel, leaving him sweating on the sun lounger all of the sudden. you were cruel. he hated you. he didn’t.

lando turned away from the swimming pool, casting his gaze further down the garden to the trampoline. it sat surrounded by the grass, built into the layout of the garden. he walked towards it, bare feet hitting the cool blades of grass as he moved. once he reached his destination, he walked onto the centre of it, jumping lightly once or twice before throwing himself down on his back. the springs creaked quietly under his weight, body relaxing. lando stared up at the sky, eyes focusing on the twinkling stars that lit up the dark sky. it was oddly therapeutic.

he must have been out there for a while when he heard footsteps approaching. lando didn’t even look up, didn’t even bother to check and see who would be joining him. he just carried on gazing at the starry sky, picturing your eyes.

“you do know trampolines are for jumping on, right? weren’t exactly built for existential crisis.” your voice broke the delicate silence. he didn’t look over to where you stood, just kept staring at the sky.

“seems to be working fine for me right about now.” lando quipped, not really in the mood for your banter. it ached too much, and after your little discussion, more like interrogation, in the kitchen, lando just didn’t have the energy. you hummed in response, flopping onto your back next to him.

“what’s keeping you awake so late, huh?” you asked quietly.

“you know, stuff.”

“wow. ‘stuff’. are you sure you feel okay revealing so much about yourself to me?” you teased, turning your head so that you were facing him.

“you’re not funny.” he turned to face you, struggling to hide his smile that dared to break through the front he’d tried to hard to put up.

“actually, i’m hilarious.”

“you’re killing me.” he’d meant it as a joke. it wasn’t a joke.

“i’m sorry.” you really were.

“it’s too late for sorry. but i guess i’m sorry too.” lando sounded so deflated. the sad smile on your lips devastated him.

“you don’t need to be, lando.”

“he’s my best friend.” he shared the weight on his shoulders with you, the elephant in the room finally taking centre stage.

“and i made it clear i wasn’t interested in him.” you were so matter of fact, but you both knew that it wasn’t that simple.

“and yet here you are.”

“not for max.” your words hit him straight in the stomach, ricocheting off his heart.

“what?”

“he’s a friend. i care about him. but it’s not like that.”

“was it ever?”

“could have been. but then this other idiot caught my eye and i couldn’t live a lie. me and max are done.” your voice was barely above a whisper but you spoke with so much conviction, he couldn’t do anything but stare at you.

lando didn’t get a chance to reply because you were hauling yourself up until you were back on your feet. you stuck your hand out for lando, and he eyed it, still trying to process what you’d just said.

“c’mon lando. jump with me.” you looked at him expectantly, that signature small smile on your face that he physically couldn’t say no to.

he took your hand, the butterflies in his stomach alive and well, and he stood up. once he was on his feet, facing you, you took his other hand. you bounced lightly a few times, until you were both propelling yourself into the air, trying to jump as high as you could. you were both laughing, breathless, enjoying the rush of air that encapsulated you in this bubble. you both landed back onto the springy sheet, giggling. lando’s arms went around you to steady you, your hands gripping his forearms as you caught your breath. your fingers stroked across his veins and he shivered, snapped back to reality. you were grinning up at him, so fucking beautiful, he thought. your grip on him tightened and he came to his senses.

“we should go back inside.” he whispered. “it’s getting late.”

“was that a line?” you raised an eyebrow, teasing him with another smirk.

“what? no!” he blurted out, blushing slightly as he realised what he’d said. you were laughing at him and he couldn’t stop himself from joining in.

you began walking back through the garden, following the pathway. you made your way to the pool, stopping briefly for a second to watch the lights dance across the water, just as lando had earlier. he stopped alongside you at the waters edge.

“hey, lando?”

“hmm?“

“you’re looking a little bit flushed.” you turned to him slowly, mischievous glint in your eyes as they not do subtly trailed down his bare chest. uh oh. he blinked once, twice, knowing exactly where this was going but his body hadn’t caught up with his brain, something he’d gotten used to in your presence.

he was under the water before he could blink a third time.

lando swam up to the top of the water, breaking through the surface. the first thing he heard was your hysterical laughter, and as soon as he’d wiped the chlorine laced water from his eyes, he could see you, doubled over and shaking. there were little crinkles by your eyes and your smile was so wide that it must of hurt. it went straight to his heart, a gentle pang that reminded him that he was alive. he would have gotten out of the pool and let you push him in as many times as you wanted, as many times as it would satisfy you. he would have done absolutely anything, anything, to have you laughing like that for him. all for him.

“are you happy now?” lando pouted, pushing his matted curls out of his face. you were semi-calm by now, still giggling away.

“very. you look a bit better now.” you replied, a little bit breathless from all of your laughing.

“are you gonna help me get out?” lando asked, plan forming in his head. this would probably be his only opportunity to get you wet, he figured he should probably take it.

“do you really think i’m gonna fall for that?” you asked, as if he was stupid, which he definitely was.

“fall for what? c’mon, i’m cold and it’s all your fault.” he whined playfully, sticking his hand out for you to take. you looked down at him, suspicious, but for whatever reason, you took his hand, leaning your weight backwards, as if to anchor yourself in case he did exactly what he was planning on doing.

“okay, fine. but if you pull me in, i swear to god, i’ll-” you were cut off by your own yelp as you flew threw the air and landed in the cold water. you swam to the surface, just as he had done, hand still holding his tightly. you broke the surface, face inches away from his, a scowl taking over your features. he felt no sympathy, because that glint in your eye, the one that he’d become so accustomed to, was still very much there. you were loving every second of this, almost as much as he was.

“you’ll what?” lando smirked, wondering if the ball was finally in his court.

you didn’t reply, all you did was send a small tidal wave his way, thrashing the hand that wasn’t in his grip until he was hit with a wall of water. it sent his hair back into his eyes, and he was operating blind, using his free hand to try and fight back. you stayed there for a while, giggling as you declared war on one another, sending pool water flying every which way. he never let go of your hand and you never let go of his, neither of you made any attempt to, the both of you moving together through the water.

eventually, lando decided enough was enough. you were winning and he was a sore loser. he tugged on your hand, gliding you towards him, capturing your other hand in his, lacing your fingers. it felt so natural that it scared him, terrified him even. touching you felt like the most normal thing in the world and that was panic inducing. it wasn’t supposed to be like this, was it? he wondered how much more fight he had in him, how much longer he’d be able to resist you, because in that moment, the odds were not looking good. it didn’t matter how often he thought of max, didn’t matter that his best friend was still trying his luck with you, lando was beyond caring. almost.

the both of you floated there, bobbing together in the water. your thumbs stroked the backs of his hands, and you seemed to be getting closer and closer, until the gap was so nonexistent that lando could feel your breath fanning his face.

“can i tell you something?” you whispered.

“please.” he breathed.

“it’s a bit horrible.” your eyebrows furrowed, voice still so quiet that lando wondered if he was imagining all of this.

“i can take it.” that was a lie, he definitely didn’t know if he could take it. god knows what you were going to say.

“wish i’d met you first.” you mumbled, your lips barely centimetres from his.

lando wanted to cry. he probably could have. he stayed there, motionless in the water. your body was practically pressed against his and it would have been so, so incredibly easy to close that minuscule gap and just do what he’d wanted to do since the second he’d met you, but the consequences would have been so ghastly, so dreadful. maybe, you would have been his, but would the possibility of that outweigh the certainty of losing max? his best friend? his closest confidant, one of the very few people in this world that understood him?

lando’s hesitancy to kiss you made you drop one of his hands. he panicked, thinking he’d blown it, but then he felt your hand on his face, caressing the damp skin, and it felt like pure magic. his eyes were shut, shut so tightly that he wondered how long they’d been closed, so lost in the feel of you against him that he’d completely zoned out, lost in his own head. his eyes opened the second he felt your nails raking softly through his hair, making him shiver as you combed the mess of wet curls with your fingers. his eyes had snapped to yours immediately, searching them desperately. he longed to know exactly what was going through your head, because maybe it would help to organise the mess of thoughts in his.

“i get it, y’know. i get why we can’t do this. just wanna look at you for a while.” you murmured, as if it was the most mundane thing in the world and you hadn’t just set his entire body on fire with three sentences.

“you’re so fucking beautiful.” lando gasped, finally remembering that he could speak and that this was his only chance to make sure that you knew. “everything about you. everything.”

you smiled, and as it reached your eyes, he could see that it wasn’t a happy smile. it wasn’t the kind of giddy, happy go lucky smile that you can’t control, because you’re falling in love. it was the kind of smile that you give because you have to. the kind of smile that you give someone when you’re watching them leave, as you’re saying goodbye, one that makes your eyes melt into your cheeks as tears fall and everything gets a little bit hazy. it made lando want to die.

he was still so close, but just too far. too fucking far. that fire that you’d set with your words was burning out quickly and he was suddenly so cold, filled with an ache that he didn’t think could ever possibly go away.

“come on.” he whispered, pulling you towards the steps that led you out of the water, back on to solid ground, where everything would go back to normal and all of this would melt away into nothing again.

you were both dripping wet, clothes soaked through, hair a sopping mess. your hand was still in his, as if you were both refusing to let go, which you were. lando sure as hell wouldn’t be the one to break away first. he needed to savour every second. you both tiptoed solemnly through the dark house, reaching the top of the staircase. the closer you got to your rooms, the louder lando’s thoughts got.

he didn’t want to say goodbye. he didn’t want to let you go and he didn’t want to watch max try and fail over and over. he didn’t want to only tell you once that you were beautiful, he wanted to tell you every day. he didn’t want you to feel guilty, or horrible, he wanted you to feel loved.

lando stopped, halfway down the corridor, tugging on your hand until you turned around, suddenly pulled into his embrace. he searched your eyes for any hesitancy, but your hands were already cupping his face, pulling him down. he met you halfway, kissing you so urgently, finally. your lips moved with his, frantic, his hands everywhere, your hands back in his hair, tugging and desperate. it was messy and perfect and soft and warm and you were moaning as his hands wandered of their own accord, quiet whimpers getting swallowed as your tongue brushed with his.

you both grew needier and needier and lando found himself pressing you into the nearest wall, the plaster panel that separated your bedroom doors. the feel of your hands on him slowed lando right down, bringing him right back into the moment, as they slid out of his wet hair and down his neck. your fingers grazed his collarbone as they moved further down his body, a shiver running down his spine. your hands flattened against the damp skin of his bare chest, feeling the warmth that you’d created, your right hand resting over where his heart was beating uncontrollably.

“lando,” you mumbled against his lips that tried to chase after yours as you pulled back slightly. his eyes fluttered open, meeting your soft ones, seduction swirling in the different hues. “please.”

“what?” he breathed, scared to know what you were asking for. he had a vague idea but he needed to know more, before his mind exploded.

“i know we shouldn’t,” your hands crept back up his chest, sliding over his shoulders and around his neck, tugging on his hair lightly as you spoke. he couldn’t help the dull groan he let out. “and i know it can’t go any further,” lando frowned at your words, agreeing with you, but it stung nonetheless. “but tonight… please.”

your words hung heavy in the air. lando didn’t know what to say to you. you were literally a dream, right before his eyes, but you’d just told him that you wouldn’t be a reoccurring one. he didn’t know how to feel about that. all he knew was that he couldn’t deny you, couldn’t pass up the one chance that you’d both have. one time, and then it was over.

he decided against a verbal response, slotting his lips back against yours, a slow, deep kiss that told you that he was on board. he pulled you away from the wall, walking you backwards down the hallway until you were positioned between him and your bedroom door, his hand leaving your waist to open the door quickly. the door shut behind you both, perhaps a bit too loudly, but it was too late to care. you guided him across the floor, past your now empty suitcase tucked away in the corner, until you were at the foot of your bed.

you turned the pair of you around, pushing lando to sit down on the bed, stepping between his legs. his hands trailed lazily over your waist and down your outer thighs, eyes locked as he stared up at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky. if someone told him that you had, he’d believe them. your fingers gripped at the hem of your shirt, and slowly, you pulled it off, revealing yourself to him. you were left in your bra and a pair of shorts, goosebumps littering your skin, still cold from your wet clothes. he was more than happy to warm you up.

lando pulled you down onto his lap, hands hooking around the backs of your thighs to lower you down on top of him. your knees slotted either side of him, straddling him, an experimental roll of your hips making him suck in a breath. while one of his hands toyed with the band of your shorts, the other snuck up your body, tangling in your hair. he pulled you down, crashing your lips against his.

he could feel himself getting harder and harder as you carried on your movements, grinding against him slowly. you pulled your lips off of his, foreheads pressed together. the hand in your hair dropped down, skimming across your shoulder blade until he reached the clasp of your bra, fiddling with it until he heard a faint snap. the lace slipped down your arms, hanging loosely in the space between you. you caught your bottom lip between your teeth, gasping as the hand on your back trailed over the bare skin, around your side and across your ribcage.

“touch me.” you whispered, something snapping within you both that changed everything, the urgency of the situation completely taking a hold. his lips peppered kisses across your chest, never detaching them as he flipped you over and onto your back. he situated himself between your legs, already spread open for him, and carried on, swirling his tongue across the skin. he caught one of your nipples in his mouth, hips pinning you down when you bucked yours up into his.

lando could feel you warming up, replacing the cold that had caught you outside. he covered your entire body with his, desperately trying to get as close to you, feel as much of you as possible. he could feel one of your hands running down his side, stroking his tanned skin as it travelled closer and closer to the waistband of his shorts. your fingers dipped into the waistband, bypassing his boxers. he froze, vision blurry for a second as he tried to ground himself at the feel of your fingertips dancing across the sensitive skin below his hipbones.

your hand went further, pushing the material covering his lower half out of your way, hand wrapping around his cock. his eyes rolled back and it took everything within him not to collapse on top of you. you gave him a gentle squeeze, moaning quietly at the weight of him in your hand and he almost lost it then and there, slowly losing all of his willpower as your hand began to work up and down his length. he refocused his vision, wild eyes fixating on the way you were watching his face, your own only a few centimetres beneath his. you licked your lips and he groaned, kissing you fiercely.

as soon as you sped up, he knew he had to put an end to your actions, because he was teetering on the edge, dangerously close to an orgasm already. lando was hardly to blame, you looked angelic beneath him, innocent eyes contrasting your devilish grin. heavenly.

lando slapped your hand away, springing into action, aching, quite literally to please you. after all, he only had one chance, and he had to make it count. your head fell back as he kissed down the valley of your breasts, a sigh of contentment leaving your swollen lips as he left open mouthed kisses across your stomach. your shorts were gone in a flash, panties admired briefly before they quickly followed. he was in no mood to tease, this time was too precious, too sacred to waste on games. this was anything but a game. his kisses continued, down your outer thigh and back up again, tongue making an appearance to lick the crease where your thigh met your body.

he paused momentarily, looking up at you from between your legs, admiring a view that he wouldn’t ever see again. you were watching him through lustful eyes; there was something else there, too, but lando didn’t think he had the strength to try and unpack it. it would hurt too much afterwards. his arms wrapped around your legs like vines, holding you in place, keeping you spread for him. you propped yourself up on your elbows, daring him to give you more, watching on in anticipation as he closed the gap. his tongue worked up the seam of your pussy, licking into your wet heat. the moan you’d let out was like music to his ears, the best song he’d ever heard, and he wanted to hear it again and again.

lando sped up, working his tongue faster against your cunt, mouth wrapping around your clit. you collapsed back into the mattress, arms giving out as he dipped his tongue into your entrance. he wouldn’t have ever gotten sick of this, the way you tasted, felt, pulled at his hair.

“yes, please, more.” you gasped out, when you’d felt his fingers trailing up your thigh, closer and closer to where you needed them. he trailed a digit through your messy folds, getting it nice and wet, before he slipped it inside of you, mind blank as he felt how tight you were. he slipped a second finger in, thrusting them slowly, stretching you out. he could feel you clenching, attaching his mouth to your clit once more. he needed to get you there, the animalistic urge to make you cum for him so overwhelming. and when he did, tongue flicking through your folds, fingers buried inside of you, he could have died happy. you were godly, shaking and whining above him, hand threading unapologetically through his hair.

when he’d crawled back up your body, fingers licked clean, you’d pulled him down on top of you instantly, legs wrapping around his waist. you were so warm, finally, pressed against him completely in the most delicious way. it was like finding the last piece of the puzzle and putting it in its place, where it was always supposed to be. your lips were back on his, frantic as you licked into his mouth, definitely tasting yourself on his tongue. your eagerness to be made his for the evening had him twitching for you; it felt good to be so wanted by the one he wanted the most.

when he finally pushed inside of you, everything melted away. it seemed cliché, lando thought, to suddenly be encapsulated in the state in which he found himself, one where time stood still and you were everything, everywhere. he didn’t quite understand it, it had never felt like this before, and as he set his pace, slow, but unrelenting, he started to understand why. he came to the realisation, as you kissed him so sweetly, that there was one person for him. one person that truly made him feel. he wondered if he’d ever be able to feel anything ever again. if he did, it wouldn’t compare to this. every single future interaction for the rest of his life was doomed, everyone would pale in comparison to you.

lando was well and truly ruined.

his hips hit yours, the drag of him in and out of you making you whimper, over and over and over again. it felt unbearably good, the knot in his stomach tightening rapidly. you cried out his name as you let yourself go, covering him and sending him hurtling towards his own orgasm. he tried to take it all in, the sight of you, before he collapsed down on top of you, head resting in the crook of your neck. your legs were tangled with his, your right hand intertwined with his left, resting at the side of your head.

“it should have been me.” lando whispered, and it was earth shattering. the most real thing he’d said to you all evening. the most truthful, heartbreaking, soul-baring thing he’d probably ever said in his life. it should have been him, but it wasn’t, and that’s just the way it was. max found you first, the lucky bastard, and nothing would ever be okay again.

“i know.” was your simple reply.

he fell asleep in your arms, and you fell asleep in his, clinging on tight to a dream that was hurtling to an end.

-

when he’d woken up next to you, he knew he had to leave. lando knew that if you woke up and he saw those pretty, pretty eyes, he would have stayed and the consequences of that were unimaginable. it already hurt enough knowing that this was over before it had even started, the least he could do was save you the trouble of having to watch him leave.

he detangled himself from you, as gently as he could, and watched you get comfortable in your slumber while he got dressed as quickly and as quietly as possible. he brushed some stray hairs away from your peaceful face, a lingering kiss on the temple being the only thing that he could leave behind. he crept out of your room, slowly shutting the door behind him, and turned on his heel to scurry back to his room and pretend that’s where he’d been all night.

he didn’t get very far.

a figure stood at the other end of the hallway, face drenched in disbelief.

lando was frozen in place. he couldn’t speak, not knowing what you were even supposed to say in a situation like this. the blood rushing to his head made it feel like everything was happening in slow motion. he felt hot, sick, stomach twisting as he watched max’s eyebrows furrow, his jaw clench, nostrils flare.

rage, disappointment, a hint of sadness. max was feeling it all and lando watched in horror as the emotions unfolded on his best friends face. it was too early in the morning for there to have been an excuse.

lando had been caught.

the funny thing, not the laugh out loud kind, but the peculiar, hole in the pit of your stomach, nail biting kind, was that max didn’t understand that it was already over, and he was the only reason why.

-

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppetangelika @wmaximoffz @starlightoctavia @japanesekel @stardustinggold @vinvantae @chaoticallypan @ashleyo1611 @ggaslyp1 @poofy-baby-unicorns @dr3lover @smiithys  @turningxstrange @lees0015 @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @1missglum1 @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @shinydragondelusion @alexk2002 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @f-1-fan @disneydaydreameralways @yeolsbubbles

(as always, taglist is so broken n such a mess lmao. if u wanna be added or removed hmu <33)

[evstostuff]

Princess

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Pierre Gasly x Reader

Warning: 18+, language, unprotected sex, threesome, overstimulation, dominant Carlos and Pierre

Word count: 4,380….again got a little bit carried away

A/N: I am so sorry how long it has taken me to write this and then actually post it. NGL but this picture is my WEAKNESS. Like wtf how is it so hot or is it just me...

Thursday. Media day at the paddock. 

You were fully prepared for a hectic day. It was the penultimate race.

Anticipation filled the air, everyone excited for what the weekend had in-store. Something seemed different for you, a tension was slowly rising.

“Y/N the press conference starts soon, are we ready?”

Carlos stood in front of you. He was awfully close. More than colleagues close. You could smell the woody undertones of his aftershave.

Shamefully, you eyed the Spaniard. His stuble short, shaved maybe a day or two ago. It suited him far too well for your liking.

“A picture would last long princess” Carlos smirked, proud he had caught you checking him out.

You scoffed moving a few steps back. Carlos furrowed his eyebrows as you moved away, disappointed that he could no longer smell the sweet scent of you perfume or hear how shallow your breathing went whenever he was close to you.

The dynamic between you and Carlos was full of sexual tension but there was something more going on. Carlos always had this sparkle in his eyes when he looked at you. Both of you wanted to blur the lines between colleagues but neither wanted to suffer the consequences if it ended badly.

Carlos was more willing than you, always commenting about how beautiful you looked, inviting you on dates or to his hotel room and getting close to you whenever no one else was looking. The advances were hard to deny, you nearly caved multiple times throughout the season but a job needed to be done and you couldn’t let your attraction to Carlos ruin that and your future within Ferrari and motorsport. 

“I’m ready let’s go.” You sighed and scurried out of Carlos’ presence.

You and Carlos entered the press conference. The room was bustling with reporters and media staff for each driver. Carlos was due to be joined by Alex, Checo, Valterri and Pierre. 

Merging in with the growing group of team staff near the door, you waited for the rest of the drivers to arrive.

Being slightly out of the way you could watch everyone including Carlos. He was talking to Valterri, both of them quite focused on the topic they were discussing. Carlos looked good. Who were you kidding, the man looked fuckable. His dark blue jeans clung to his muscly legs and the Ferrari team top fell perfectly on his broad shoulders. You couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together to try and relieve some of the pressure you were feeling at your core because of him. 

You had been so concentrated on the Spanish man that you hadn’t noticed that Pierre had walked in and joined Carlos on the stage. His eyes locked on you remembering every little detail about your body from a year ago. He couldn’t deny the annoyance he felt when he noticed how concentrated you were on his opponent.

Pierre shuffled in his seat trying to get comfortable and hide the growing hard on he was experiencing from the flashbacks he was currently having.

Your eyes flickered over to Pierre. 

You couldn’t deny that Pierre was incredibly attractive. However, you had been there and done that. Very drunk and new to the paddock, it was inevitable that the growing flirtation between you and Pierre would bubble into a one night stand after Abu Dhabi. 

Carlos clocked on to how you were looking at Pierre. Your eyes were dark, full with something Carlos couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was how you looked at him mere minutes ago hoping not to be caught. It wasn’t jealousy that was creeping up on Carlos. He didn’t like how you and Pierre were looking at each other. You were Carlos’ to flirt with and tease, you were his and no one else’s. 

Pierre’s attention was drawn away from you as Carlos started up a conversation with him. You were watching the pair of them with lust filled eyes.

Both of them knew you were watching. Carlos not entirely happy that your attention was spilt between him and Pierre. On the other hand, Pierre was struggling to keep calm. Your eyes said it all, screamed how desperate you were to be properly fucked, to cum multiple times in several different ways. 

He couldn’t help the affect you were having on him.

You weren’t able to concentrate, both drivers consumed your mind. This was exactly why you couldn’t sleep with Carlos, you were unable to focus on the job. You were supposed to be making notes recording how Carlos answered, how the press reacted to his answers and how to get ahead of any issues but you were far too focused on how you were desperate to have Carlos and Pierre close to you. 

“So you and Y/N?” Carlos leant over and whispered to Pierre. 

The Frenchman chuckled “Why you jealous?”

Carlos scoffed taken back by the question. 

“She’s hot mate, you should really go there.” Pierre chuckled to himself as his mind replayed how good you felt wrapped around him. His eyes gave you a quick glance noticing how your eyes were wide at the pair interacting.

“Look at her, look at how she’s looking at us.” Pierre nodded his head in your direction. 

Carlos snapped his attention to you, taking all of you in. He couldn’t look for too long as the way your eyes were gazing at him went straight to his cock. Carlos shuffled in his seat, carefully pulling at his jeans to readjust them.

“You okay there Sainz?” Pierre looked down at Carlos’ crotch wiggling his eyebrows and smirking. 

That’s when it happened. You watched the Frenchman gently reach across to Carlos and tilt his chin up so they were now locked in eye contact. You thighs tightened together as your mouth fell open ever so slightly. 

“Look at her mate, she’s ours.” The Frenchman whispered to Carlos.

Carlos was taken back by Pierre’s action and then the words that followed. He was curious as to what was running through his mind. The thoughts going through Carlos’ mind weren’t at all helpful, you were distracting him from remaining professional. 

His eyes locked with yours, seeing the state of you, bottom lip now between your teeth. Carlos watched you with a smirk locked on his lips.

You had been caught red handed but you didn’t mind at all. Pierre and Carlos together was your new kryptonite and you didn’t know how you could avoid it at all. 

The press conference ended. You sighed to yourself as you watched Carlos walk up to you. Behind everyone else you both walked out back to the Ferrari garage. 

Much to your surprise Carlos’ hand found the small of your back, guiding you through the busy paddock. His touch was electric. It was as if his hands were all over your body.

Entering the Ferrari garage, both of you said your respected hellos to mechanics and engineers that you passed. You got to Carlos’ driver room with an empty corridor. You muttered a goodbye to Carlos.

“Where do you think you are going princess?” Carlos had grabbed your wrist and pulled you back into him. You were now pressed up against his body. His warmth radiating around you as he slivered his arm around your waist.

“I’ve got things to do Carlos.” You whispered not at all being confident in your answer.

“Oh princess, don’t you dare think you’ll get away with looking at me and Pierre the way you did during the conference.” Carlos’ words met your neck. 

His lips gently worked their way up the exposed skin, kissing and nipping at everything available to him. Your breathing was heavy as every movement of Carlos’ lips sent waves of pleasure through your body. 

“You’re mine after the race.” Carlos purred into your ear as he left one last kiss just below your ear and entered his driver room.

The rest of the weekend was a constant struggle trying to avoid Carlos and Pierre. Both drivers smirking at you whenever you walked by letting you know that they had something in store for you.

Carlos had done amazing throughout the weekend, securing P2 in the sprint and P3 in the race. Celebrations were definitely in order. Pierre on the other hand hadn’t had a brilliant weekend, P10 in the sprint and P14 in the race so commiserations were predicted.

The Ferrari team agreed to meet at one of the local clubs to celebrate Carlos’ brilliant weekend. 

Brazil was booming, the streets full of people dancing and singing making their way in and out of the clubs.

You worked your way through the moving bodies in the club, you eyes searching for familiar faces. Eventually you found a group of your co-workers sat at the bar. 

The faces in the crowds weren’t ones you recognised. Carlos was all you could look for. You wanted him to notice you. 

Tactically, the silk dress you had decided to wear matched the Ferrari red of the podium winning car Carlos had been driving so well. You had decided to push the boat out with your outfit compared to previous options you had worn. The silk dress clung in all the right places, with the neckline slightly lower than your usual so your boobs were framed brilliantly for anyone and everyone to admire. 

You were making small talk with a few of your colleagues at the bar, still scanning the many bodies to see if Carlos was anywhere. 

One of your colleagues scoffed on their drink, drawing your attention back to him. You noticed his eyes wide and the colour draining out of his face. Slowly turning round, you were met with Pierre shirt clad muscular chest. Your eyes racked up his body, taking in everything about him. 

Your eyes locked with the gold crucifix around his neck. Drunken confidence took over you as you twirled the cross over your fingers and gently tugged it forward, motioning for Pierre to come closer to you. Pierre’s hands grabbed your hips, pressing you against him.

“Be careful princess.” He chuckled.

“Or what Pierre?” You raised an eyebrow looking into the Frenchman’s hypnotic ocean eyes.

“I’ll fuck that attitude out of you in the toilets. Do not tempt me.” Pierre growled, his eyes locked on your lips.

His words sent shockwaves to your core. You could feel the excitement building within your thong. 

Pierre gentle brushed a strand of hair from your face. His eyes flickering between your eyes and lips. 

“Are you going to kiss me?” You held eye contact with the Frenchman, challenging him.

Pierre’s hand slivered round your neck giving it a small squeeze which earned him a smirk from yourself. 

“Princess, I am going to do a lot more to you than kiss you.” Pierre dragged his eyes down your body.

Your mind became crowed with all the possible things Pierre was going to do to you. Excitement was building within you but was being damped by the lingering thoughts of the Spanish driver. You still hadn’t seen him and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was with another girl.

“I’ll find us a taxi back to the hotel.” Pierre whispered in your ear, snapping you away from your thoughts. As he pulled away from you, he lightly left a kiss on your lips. 

You sighed, wanting more from the Frenchman to distract you from your thoughts of Carlos.

“Y/N.” 

A shiver ran down your spine. The familiar woody scent surrounded you. 

It was Carlos. 

You spun around to be greeted by a not so happy Carlos. His eyes were burning deep into your soul, he was angry.

“What did I say would happen after the race?” He grumbled.

“I think the exact words you used where ‘you’re mine after the race’” You gulped whilst looking up at the Spaniard. 

His hair was messy but in a styled way. You couldn’t help but think about pulling on the strands as he buried his head into your pussy.

“Oh Princess, did you think I wouldn’t follow through on what I said?” His fingers held your chin and pulled your lips just millimetres away from his.

You caved. Being that close to Carlos, you couldn’t help but crash your lips to his. 

The sweet taste of whatever alcohol he had been drinking transferred onto your lips. His tongue glided across your bottom lip asking for permission which you gladly granted. Carlos’ hands were on your hips, pulling you close to him, your bodies pressed against each other. Your fingers ran through Carlos’ hair tugging ever so slightly, earning a small moan from him. The pair of you were so wrapped up in each other, waiting to see who would end the kiss to catch a breathe.

“I think you guys need to get a room.” Pierre smirked at the pair of you. 

“I have a taxi waiting, if you’re both interested?”

Both of you looked at each other and then at the Frenchman. Carlos interlocked your hands together, gave you a wicked smile and guided you towards the door with Pierre.

The taxi ride back to the hotel was full of sexual tension, both drivers whispering the dirtiest of things in your ears making your thighs squeeze together in a tempt to release some of the pressure you were feeling at your core. 

Soon enough you were outside of the hotel. Butterflies flooded your stomach, nerves slowly taking over from the confidence you were feeling in the club. Carlos noticed the shift in your behaviour. 

His hand reached for yours.

“You know you don’t have to do any of this Princess.” He whispered in your ear as his thumb rubbed circles on the back of your hand.

Princess. One simple word. One simple nickname. Your body reacted to the word, your core igniting.

“I want to do this.” You smirked, nudging Pierre to get out of the taxi.

Luckily, the Ferrari staff where all allocated rooms on the second floor of the hotel. You unlocked your room and let both of the drivers in. Your eyes followed both of their movements. Pierre chose the chair whilst Carlos picked the end of the bed.

“Come here Princess.” Pierre purred and patted his lap.

Bravery took over you. 

You moved to straddle Pierre, your lace clad core coming into contact with the bulge in his trousers. Both of you let out a shaky moan at the friction. You attached your lips to Pierre’s exposed neck, leave little red and purple marks along the skin. Pierre’s fingers dug into your hips and started to rock you back and forth. The friction was blissful, you laced your fingers in Pierre’s hair and moaned. 

Carlos watched both of you interact with each other. Hearing you moan went straight to his cock, causing a large tent to form within his jeans. His cock was rubbing against the zipper, begging for some attention.

“I think you need to show Carlos some attention Princess.” Pierre whispered in your ear nodding at the Spaniard noticing the growing bulge in his pants.

You slowly got off Pierre and walked over to Carlos, swaying your hips to taunt him. The movement earned you a sigh full of frustration. 

Carlos’ eye were dark with lust as you approached him. Your hands found his chest and pushed him back further up the bed. 

The Spaniard watched closely as your little hands fiddled with his jeans, trying to get them undone. He lifted his hips as you dragged them down his legs leaving him in his very tight black boxers. Your eyes locked with the bulge, drooling at thought of your mouth around his cock. 

Slowly, you ran your fingers up his thigh and ghosted them across his cloth covered cock. 

“Princess don’t tease me.” He growled.

You couldn’t help but smirk at Carlos. 

Carefully, you pressed small kisses on the outline of his cock. Another grumble left Carlos. Taking the hint, you took his cock out of his boxers and started moving your hand up and down his length. 

He wasn’t at all small. Carlos had the perfect mixture of length and girth. It made you drool. 

You couldn’t help yourself, it was like you went into autopilot. The tip of your tongue licked from the base to the tip. You swirled your tongue and removed the small drops of pre-cum off of the tip. Carlos’ hand instantly gathered your hair into a ponytail and pushed your head down encouraging you to take him in your mouth. You did as he wanted, hollowing your cheeks to take him all in. The room filled with moans and Spanish swear words as you bobbed your head up and down.

Pierre watched in awe. His cock now fully hard and desperate to be inside you. Jealous that Carlos was getting all the attention, Pierre approached the bed to join in. His hands caressed your silk covered ass. He pulled one hand away to then reconnect it, spanking you. The jolt from the contact caused you to take Carlos deeper within your mouth. 

“Fuck Princess.” Carlos moaned.

The Frenchman smirked. He lifted your dress up and bunched it around your hips. Pierre watched you clench your thighs together, noticing how desperate you were for some attention. Slowly, Pierre latched his finger around the black lace thong and pulled it down your legs. 

“Princess you’re so wet.” Pierre dragged his forefinger through your folds and gathered your wetness.

“Carlos look at this.” Pierre held his finger up displaying your juices running down it.

The Spaniard groaned and guided your head up and down his cock a bit faster.

Pierre pulled his concentration back to your wet pussy. His finger found your entrance and slowly entered you, earning him a small moan that vibrated through Carlos’ cock. 

He pumped his finger in and out a few times working you up to take another. A sharp gasp left you as Pierre entered another finger. He was moving fingers at an amazing pace, hitting every spot he needed to, leaving you moaning around Carlos. 

You could feel your legs shaking as the knot within your stomach grew tighter. Your climax was close.

Pierre brought his other hand round to your clit. He rubbed small circles on the bundle of nerves. The added pleasure sent you into a frenzy. 

Carlos could hear your moans change more towards screams of ecstasy. He pulled you off his cock, your mouth letting him go with a pop. 

“Look at me when you cum princess. Tell me how good it feels.” Carlos demanded.

You looked into the Spaniard’s lustful eyes. With one final curl of Pierre’s fingers you came undone.

A string of profanities fell from your lips as you moaned Pierre’s name whilst clenching around his fingers. You didn’t break eye contact with Carlos until Pierre had removed his fingers.

As you sat back, Pierre came round to face you and tapped the two fingers that had just been inside you on your bottom lip. You opened wide and sucked his fingers clean. Carlos’ eyes went wide and he gulped.

“Fuck I want to taste you Princess. Get on your back.” Carlos demanded.

You did what he said and watched him lower himself down to your core. His lips kissed gently down each thigh. 

Carlos wanted to make you beg, he wanted you to be a mess for him. You bucked your hips, hoping to get the message to Carlos.

“Use your words princess.” Carlos purred right in your pussy, his hot breath causing waves of pleasure to surge through you.

“Shit…Carlos please.” You whimpered.

That was enough for Carlos. His tongue darted out and circled your entrance. The contact sent shockwaves throughout your body. 

Your hand tugged at the strands of his hair trying to pull him even closer to your core.

His tongue found your clit, circling and playing with it. He was enjoying how you reacted to him far too much. 

Carlos wanted more of you but at that moment he wanted nothing more but for you to cum for him. 

Pierre sat at the side of you, cock in hand, slowly stroking it. You reached out to him, wanting to help him get himself off. 

Pleasure was shooting through your body as Carlos put his life into bringing you to your second orgasm whilst you lent Pierre a helping hand.

The all too familiar knot was threatening to break as Carlos devoured you. He moaned into your pussy as you bucked your hips into him. The vibrations tipped you over the edge. Carlos grabbed your legs holding them still as he continued to circle your clit as you screamed his name over and over again. 

You had no time to really adjust, Carlos had quickly removed his tongue from your core and replaced it with his cock. He pushed into you. 

Grabbing your legs he placed them on his shoulders as he fucked you relentlessly. 

The Spaniard’s cock was something sculpted by the gods. His cock reached places within you that you didn’t know existed.

“Fuck princess, you look unreal taking my cock like this.” Carlos’ gripped tightened round your thighs.

The mere thought of the purple fingerprints being left of your thigh caused you to moan. 

Carlos could feel you pulsing around his length as he proceeded to fuck you into oblivion. 

Your eyes were screwed shut as you moaned out Carlos’ name, along with profanities and encouragements for Carlos to fuck you like his life depended on it.

You still had your hand around Pierre’s cock, gently stroking it for you as he watched Carlos help you come undone again. 

Pierre could see how close you were.

“You can cum for us Princess.” Pierre cooed at you.

As Pierre granted you permission, Carlos’ hand snaked around your neck. He gave it a light squeeze.

Your eyes rolled back. The pleasure was too much, you were definitely over stimulated from the previous two orgasms. Your back arched off the bed as the knot untied. Pleasure washed over your body. Carlos’ name screamed for everyone to hear.

Carlos completely obsessed with the sight in front of him, lost all restraint and released his load inside of you. 

You eventually came back to earth as the Spaniard pulled out of you.

“My turn.” Pierre cheered.

In all honesty you didn’t know if you could handle a fourth orgasm. You legs slammed shut.

“Get on your knees princess.” Pierre demanded.

You looked at him with pleaded eyes.

“Do as you’re told princess.” Pierre growled. His hand around your neck forcing you to look at him.

Pierre being dominant, flipped a switch inside of you. 

You did as you were told. On all fours waiting for Pierre and looking at Carlos.

Pierre dragged his cock up and down your folds and then slammed into you. You couldn’t help but moan, your hand fisting at the bed sheets.

His cock stretched you out, the waves of pain changed to pleasure as the Frenchman continued to hit that special spot inside you.

Pierre was amazing in bed but there was something about Carlos that put him slightly in front.

With every slam of Pierre’s hip, you felt the knot building in your stomach. 

Pierre wrapped your hair round his hand and pulled you up against his chest. He continued to fuck you as he sucked at your exposed skin.

Carlos closed in on you, hands roaming up your sides. His hands reached your breasts. 

In one sudden movement, Carlos had ripped your dress open at the front and was pulling it off you.

You want to complain at the Spaniard, but before you got the chance to utter a word his lips were on yours.

The kiss was full of lust and passion. His handles fondling your breast, rubbing your nipples between his thumb and forefinger through the lace of your bra.

You were putty in the hands of Carlos and Pierre. The pleasure becoming unbearable, you were begging for your release to wash over you.

It was as if Carlos had read your mind. One of his hands left your breast and made its way down to your clit. 

The Spaniard rubbed circles on the button of nerves.

“Fuck Carlos.” You locked eyes with him.

“Cum.” Carlos whispered in your ear.

His encouragement pushed you over the edge. Pleasure coursed through your veins.

Pierre followed shortly, your name being moaned as he held your hips close to him.

You pulled away from Pierre and collapsed on the bed.

Both drivers got up from the bed. Pierre grabbing his clothes and putting them back on.

Carlos had disappeared. Eventually he came back with a damp wash cloth and his shirt.

He gently cleaned you up and put you in his shirt. After buttoning the last button he pressed a small kiss to your lips.

“I’ll see you tomorrow on the jet Carlos. Y/N let me know if you ever want to do that again.” The Frenchman interrupted.

Pierre retreated back to his room. There was no way he could compete with Carlos. It was obvious that there was more than sexual chemistry between the pair of you.

Carlos had gathered his things and started to walk to the door.

“Keep the shirt Y/N. It looks better on you than it does me.” Carlos gave you a small smile.

“You can stay Carlos.” You whispered just loud enough that he could hear as you fiddled with the end of his shirt.

A shadow grew over you. Carlos stood in front of you. 

You looked up into his chocolate eyes, completely lost in them.

“I would like that.” Carlos smiled at you

You moved over in the bed and patted the empty space next to you.

The Spaniard got in and pulled you against his chest. His hand running through your hair.

“I don’t share princess, so I am never doing that again.” Carlos whispered.

You giggled.

“I don’t like sharing either.” Your lips gently kissed up Carlos’ chest.

“Fancy going solo this time?” You gave the driver a questioning look.

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” Carlos grinned pinning you underneath him and connecting your lips.

[via-l0ve]

hihi could you do a (spn) sam imagine where they go to the beach? (this was inspired by me being at the beach this week lolol) dean and cas could also be there too!

beach day! (Sam Winchester x GN! Reader!)

a/n: i love the beach :( i hope you enjoy this, anon! i’m not too proud of it ngl.

warnings: nothing!!

The sand was hot below your feet as you, Sam, Dean and Cas got out of the Impala. Traveling around while being a hunter had its pros. (even if there were more cons.) One of the biggest pros is being able to go anywhere. the mountains, the countryside, the city… anywhere.

Currently, Sam, Dean, Cas and yourself were on a case in North Carolina. Your motel was right by a beach and you had the idea to take a break from hunting and chill at the beach all day.

of course - to no one’s surprise - sam immediately agreed. not just because he had a soft spot for the beach, but also because sammy would never say no to you. Cas also agreed after you told him about swimming and making sandcastles. Dean agreed as well, complaining about needing a tan.

So, the next morning at the crack of dawn, You woke the boys up and changed into a bathing suit, got in the impala (and kicked Dean and Cas to the backseats), and started the hour long drive to the public beach.

Sam kept his hand on your thigh the whole drive, letting you pick the music (much to deans distaste). He gave you small smiles, giving your thigh gentle squeezes here and there.

When you finally got to the beach, the sun was high and the pavement hot. The four of you got out of the Impala, walking towards the large, sandy beach. it was quite empty - considering what a nice day it was.

Sam held your hand the whole way, holding the bag filled with water bottles and sunscreen and hair ties.

You all entered onto the beach, the sand burning your bare feet as you stepped onto it. Sam set up a little area for you all to sit on while dean, you, and cas ran down to get sand. you’d decided on the car ride down to make the best sandcastle you’d ever seen.

you guys worked on it for hours. adding layers and getting tanned (burnt) in the sun. Dean eventually left your sandcastle, running into the water and bringing back a bucket, pouring it over Sams head. a war followed, ending in all four of you in the water.

The boys dragged you and Cas out to the deeper part of the water. everyone held hands and faced the beach, letting the huge waves hit you in the back and try to keep balanced.

You fell over, Sam grabbing your waist and stabilizing you. cas was collecting shells, putting them all into a bucket. he made sure to show you all the shells every time he found a cool one. Dean went back to building the castle, almost crying when it fell over.

around noon, you pulled out sandwiches for the goys and yourself, eating and reapplying sunscreen. sam sat next to you, helping you dig for seashells and making sure you drank all of your water.

near the end of the night, Castiel and Dean finished the sandcastle while you and sam got some more shells. you watched the sun set together and sam held your waist.

“i love you, y/n.”

“i love you too, Sammy.”

Dean and Cas joined you both, standing in the shallow water and watching the sun fall.

you guys finally left the beach, exhausted. Dean was burnt because he’s ridiculous and forgot to put on sunscreen. Sam cuddled up to you, smiling and brushing your hair out of your face.

“that was a really good idea, y/n. to go to the beach all day.”

you smile.

“it was. i love you.”

“love you more.”

[reanbowful]

this is a nsfw request-

a very sensitive and loud reader in bed 😔?

AHAHHAA THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST!! 😈😈 (also, sorry in advance if it’s shorter from my other prompts)

“quiet down will you?”

if you’re loud in bed

*this is very nsfw

(gray, ben, alex, jake, donald, wolf)

gray yeon / yeon sieun

Sex with Gray is.. interesting.

He won’t make too much noise, maybe a few suppressed moans slipping out.

He’s like around 5 inches(?) (which is not bad that’s still an okay size to work with)

He’ll last like 1 round probably (sorry guys).

He enjoys foreplay more than the actual sex. Mainly because he can concentrate more on your pleasure than his. Also, he doesn’t last very long. So, you two will have more fun in building it up than going straight in.

If you’re very vocal, I feel like he would try to shut you up by kissing you or hush you down.

Especially if you’re a total mess after cumming 3x on his finger, begging him to enter you already.

He’ll kiss you and stroke your hair.

“Shh.. one more. You can do one more, right?”

No Gray, they in fact, cannot.

But I have to say, Gray is really good at making the most out of his knowledge. He knows where to touch, where to press, when to slow down, when to speed up.

Overall, you’ll have a good experience with him.

ben park / park humin

I don’t know if Ben likes it if you’re loud, but it would make him feel happy that he’s making you feel good.

So let’s start with this, sex with Ben is very fun. He’s very giggly, so you don’t have to worry about things being too awkward and serious.

He focuses on making you feel comfortable enough to know that you can show him everything.

So if you are vocal, he would probably be happy. But if you get too loud, he will try to make you lower your voice to not disturb the neighbours.

He will most likely laugh in between trying to shush you.

“Shh babe..! Shh.. pfft!”

Will end with him just kissing you while he’s STILL thrusting inside.

As for his size..

Let’s be generous, he would be around like 7 inches. (okay maybe 6.5 is more realistic but I’m biased and whatever. I’ll leave it up to your imagination)

He cums a little fast, but makes up for it with his stamina. He could last as many rounds as you want ngl. Man is blessed with the stamina of a god.

alex go / go hyuntak

Alex. Oh. Alex would probably not like it if you’re way too loud.

He would panic a little if he notice you being a lot more vocal than usual. But unlike others, he would not kiss you.

This man, will put his hand over your mouth.

Oh he would not stop either once he’s already in there.

“Ha.. I’m so sorry, babe. But you’re being a bit too loud right now.”

Alex is.. okay at sex.

It’s not like he has a really great technique nor can he last too many rounds. Pretty average size too maybe around 5-5.5 inches. And he lasts like around 2-3 rounds.

But he does make sure that you cum every single time. No, in fact, he won’t sleep until you’re satisfied.

He will use any means whatsoever. Be it his tongue or his fingers.

His pride would probably prevent him from cumming before you. So rest assured. If you sleep with him. He will make sure you get what you went in for.

jake ji / ji hakho

Jake would love it if you’re loud for him.

He needs to make sure if he’s making you feel good, so he appreciates it if you’re vocal about it.

“Does it feel that good?”

If you’re sensitive that’s even better. Since this guy has no fucking idea what he’s doing.

If he manage to make you cum, he would be so proud of himself.

If he manage to make you cum twice, he’ll probably start thinking he’s some kind of sex god or something.

It’s a bit of a shame cuz he’s kinda, ok he’s around 6.5 inches. If you think that’s small, something is very wrong with you. (🤨)

But anyways, he’s quite big..? So, since he doesn’t know how to utilise his assets. It’s a bit of a shame.

The good thing is that since you’re sensitive and he’s- well he has his size. You can both cum fairly easily without much fancy techniques needed.

Jake could last like about 2 rounds, 3 if he pushes it maximum. So, I hope you can be satisfied by then?

Aftercare is Jake’s specialty I feel like, so during that time, you can tell Jake what you like or don’t like. The next time you guys have sex again, he will take notes of those stuff so sex with him will only get better and better.

(^ from a commenter thank you ehe)

donald na / na baekjin

Donald LOVES it. He absolutely love it if you’re loud and sensitive.

In fact, he would even urge you to be louder.

He’s very cocky. And that personality goes in when he’s having sex also.

This makes him soo fucking dangerous. Because not only does he have the knowledge to know where your weak spots are, he will make you beg for him to let you release.

The asshole would literally stop moving if he notice that you’re close. And he knows you’re sensitive so he will pull out to make sure you don’t cum until he gets what he wants.

“Do you want to cum? Show me how much you want it.”

A solid 7. You can’t tell me otherwise. This man is no joke.

I can’t tell you how many rounds he last because he could take a long time to cum.

Honestly if you are his partner, my condolences for you. Because he can literally go 1 hour without pulling out. Despite him already cumming twice inside. (with a condom of course, safety is number 1)

wolf keum / keum seongje

Ok here’s the thing. Wolf tends to be quite rough in bed.

So it doesn’t matter what kind of shit you do, the neighbours are not gonna be sleeping through it.

Wolf has a high stamina so he can go multiple rounds. Maybe 5-6 max tho.

He would probably make you cum a couple times before he would enter you to raise your sensitivity.

He loves seeing you cry from his dick. (I’m sorry it just seems like so😬)

While he likes it when you show him that you’re enjoying it, if you get too loud, Wolf will stop moving entirely and threaten to pull out unless you lower it down.

“Noona, I know you’re feeling good. But if you don’t lower it down, someone’s really gonna knock on our door soon.”

If he’s feeling sadistic, he will make you cover your own mouth. And if you make a sound, he will slow down. Only to speed up once you calmed down.

If you still make too much sound or stop covering your mouth, Wolf will take it to himself and shove his fingers into your mouth. (courtesy of a commenter)

Imo he’s a solid 6. Not too big, but he knows how to use it well. (🤭)

[h4venpha]

⸺ kiss him

✦ vash the stampede x nicholas d. wolfwood ✦  contents: contents: oneshot, SFW, hurt and comfort, mentions of getting shot, mentions of violence ✦  WC: 613 ✦  notes: ngl i jst wanted to write this bc of a specific two second scene i saw in a movie. also yes i combined trimax and stampede vash and imagined 98 wolfwood. SUE ME (uhh not proofread bc im sleepy)

vash’s eyes flicker dimly as he listens to the muted hum of the worms flying outside. its colder and darker than other nights, even here in the cheap motel they managed to gather enough scraps to sleep in for the night. the bed is creaky and smells like old linens but vash prefers it over decking it out in an alley behind crates and trash bins. 

wolfwood’s embrace is warm and firm with his arms wrap around his neck and a rough hand gently running through his mess of blonde and black hair along with curious feather appendages sprouting from his head. 

vash buries his face into wolfwood’s shoulder, pouty lips pressing upon his dark blazer as he sniffles. “‘m sorry about today.” 

wolfwood isn’t fazed at all. “for what?” he grumbles softly.

“for everything.” vash nuzzles further into the crook of his shoulder, his dark eyebrows furrowing up as his eyes watered more than he wanted them to. “for getting involved in that fight, for getting you hurt— for letting you get shot—“

“spikey,” wolfwood draws out. “none of that, ‘kay? i don’t want any of that t’night from you.” his tone is firm, but he means well. it's all too easy to recognize when vash is going to spiral and spout some bullshit he’s heard before more than once during nights like these. “‘s nothing i can’t handle.” wolfwood lets a breathy laugh escape him and vash wants nothing more than to grab it out of the sacred space of a motel room they’ve created and store it in his mind.

“that doesn’t mean it’s all right for you to get shot.” vash says rather defensively. “it’s still my fault, i-i should’ve covered you.” his arms wrap tighter around wolfwood’s waist as if they were still in the middle of the shoot out.

“how could ya have? you were protectin’ that woman across the street, i saw you.” wolfwood says while he gently thumbs at the small feathers by his temples. “listen, i can handle myself alright? quit yer worryin’ about me.” with being tucked into his shoulder, wolfwood can feel when vash frantically shakes his head in response.

“i can’t do that, wolfwood. you know i can’t. i wanna be there to protect you…” vash sniffles as his voice goes watery.

“and you are, you are, okay spikey?” wolfwood reassures and gently prys vash away from his shoulder to look at him. and oh is he gorgeous. big, fat tears rolling down his glowing face as his plant marks dimly glimmer, his wings and feathers flicking reactively as they reach and tug at wolfwood’s fingers and arms, aching for him to come closer. wolfwood wants to kiss him senseless. “you’re doin’ the best you can and i’m proud of ya, alright?” 

vash hiccups and breaks into a quiet fit of cries. his head hurts and he’s drained, but wolfwood is here and cooing and wiping away at his eyes with his thick, warm thumbs. 

“y’ big ole baby.” wolfwood chuckles softly when vash pouts at him with his bottom lip jutted out and big, glossy eyes. “c’mon, no more cryin’, yeah?” wolfwood coaxes gently and leans in to kiss his puffy eyes before tilting his head and smiling warmly. and vash feels himself falling apart under wolfwood’s warm hands and his bufferfly-soft kisses and his kind words— he feels himself letting wolfwood gently break him down into a mush of tears and snot.

wolfwood cups his face and leans in without hesitation to press his firm lips to vash’s trembling ones. vash knows he tastes like salty tears but wolfwood doesn’t mind it and only smiles into their slow kiss.

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

Of Magic, Miracles, and Moonlight

a Stephen Strange x OFC Romance

genre: pre-Infinity War, slow burn romance, older man/younger woman, teacher/student to friends to lovers characters: Stephen Strange, Wong, Teyla of Hadeeth (OFC), Moraine of Hadeeth (OC), additional OCs as Kamar-Taj staff rating: general audience to begin with, later chapters contain 18+ material

Ngl - I'm really hoping some of the authors in the Doctor Strange x Reader community will be kind enough to give this a read.🥺🥺 Even more so, a reblog - because I'm quite proud of my writing in this work, and I believe it deserves some love. Maybe some love could see me on my way to updating, even finishing, this WIP. It's lain fallow for far too long!

Chapter One

“Stephen, it’s nearly time.”

Wong’s voice pulled him from his scrutiny of the thick, weathered tome that had become his latest project.  Since the passing of his mentor, the Ancient One, Stephen Strange was one of very few left in Kamar-Taj who made a regular practice of studying the advanced manuscripts, spell books, and obscure histories, which she had amassed during her centuries of service as the Sorcerer Supreme.  His eidetic memory served him equally well in this pursuit, as it had in his previous vocation; as one of the world’s most talented and successful neurosurgeons he had learned the lesson early on—that knowledge was power—though the power he sought now he would wield for a even nobler purpose than those of his previous life.  

“Remind me, Wong…it’s nearly time for…” Stephen let his voice trail off with the question, focusing just a few moments more on the script marking the page before him.

“For the arrival of the emissary from Hadeeth, Stephen,” Wong replied, “As well you know.  Need I remind you that our alliance with Hadeeth goes back nearly four hundred years?”

“Not at all, Wong.  I’m acutely aware—down to the smallest minutiae—of the terms of our accord the with the Hadeethans, having familiarized myself with every scrap of parchment the Ancient One left behind, detailing the particulars of our relationship.”  Strange closed the leather-bound book before him, stretched a mite, and then rubbed thumb and forefinger upon his closed eyelids. “I’ve got a rotten case of eyestrain in the process, but I suppose I’m as ready for this as I can ever be,” he grumbled, “Although I’m not entirely certain why I have to be the one to meet with their envoy.  A Master with years of experience—and not one with barely twelve months--would surely make a better representative of Earth. Let alone Kamar-Taj.”

Refusing to be pulled back into the ongoing debate, Wong remained impassive.  “Of the Masters left in Kamar-Taj, you are the best qualified by virtue of your life experience.  And in the absence of a Sorcerer Supreme, a Master of one of our Sanctums is the best that we can offer.” 

He clapped Stephen on the shoulder, “Accept that you’re destined for this bit of diplomacy, Stephen.  It can’t be anywhere near as complicated as navigating your way through the human brain to excise a pin point sized tumor.”

Strange rose to his feet, favoring Wong with a scowl, “As usual, Wong, your vote of confidence is underwhelming—but I will do my best not to provoke a diplomatic incident with an ally that has had Earth’s back for hundreds of years, and in some hairy situations.”

A young attendant placed the tray with fresh-brewed tea and a sampling of Nepalese delicacies on the low table before him.  Without a word, she filled a cup with the hot liquid, and set it down beside the pot, before sliding a plate of almond honey cakes closer at hand to him.  Stephen nodded, murmuring his thanks—though he was a little too nervous to partake of one of his favorite dishes.  Instead, he stirred a bit of honey into his tea, briefly reflecting on the first cup of honeyed tea he had partaken in this very room, barely more than a year ago.  With a shock to his system, he had been quickly educated as to how very much he did not know about the world, the universe, and the human mind and spirit; and since then, he had learned much more than he would ever had imagined of things he’d never even entertained as plausible.  He considered himself a work in progress, truly humbled for the first time in his life, when he took into account how much he still did not know.

Yet, he had earned the respect of his peers here and—just moments before her death--the Ancient One had appointed him Master of the New York Sanctum.  Strange took that responsibility ever seriously, having seen and experienced for himself the sort of assaults from other dimensions which Earth would be prey to were it not for the ancient protections provided by the band of sorcerers, bound in service to mankind.

The man he once was—before the accident that had deprived him of his livelihood, and the purpose by which he defined himself—Doctor Stephen Strange had the hubris to consider himself the best his specialty had ever known, and the ambition to pursue the loftiest positions of influence and power in his field.  Now, as he split his time between New York and Nepal, he was in a constant quest for knowledge that would enable him to do this job to the best of his ability, while never seeking glory for himself.  He would not—could not, in fact—allow himself to aspire to the title of Sorcerer Supreme…although more often than not these days, he was given--by some silent agreement (to which he was no party)--the deference and the responsibilities that came with that designation.  Today, he would prefer to be a mere rank and file mage—but he could not turn his back upon the service that was asked of him.

Stephen rose when Wong appeared in the entrance way, ushering a stately, robed woman into the room.  “Master Strange, allow me to present Mistress Moraine of Clan Kayolo, member of the Hadeethan Ruling Council,” Wong gave her a nod of respect, before moving to Stephen’s side.    

Following the formal protocol which the Ancient One had chronicled, Strange bowed at the waist before speaking.  “Welcome to Kamar-Taj, Mistress Moraine of Hadeeth.  We are honored by your presence, and offer hospitality and friendship to you, and any others under your protection, for however long you sojourn here.”

She bowed in reply, and recited her opening remarks smoothly, her rich voice that of a woman accustomed to oratory, “The honor is mine, Sir.  On behalf of my people, and in the name of our alliance, I accept your hospitality, Master Strange.”  Moraine paused, studying him closely, before adding, “May the worlds we serve continue to benefit from our partnership.”

Strange motioned her to take a seat, then sat himself, while Wong moved forward to pour tea for the Hadeethan woman; the ensuing silence enough to allow Stephen an observation or two.  She was definitely dignified (royalty was the first word that came to his mind), aloof and otherworldly; she wore her thick, silver hair loose and unadorned, for surely nothing could flatter her more than it’s natural glory; and the only subtle sign of age he could discern, were small crinkles at the corners of her pale grey eyes--but since he knew the average Hadeethan lifespan was upwards of 150 Earth years, they gave no clue regarding her actual age.  There was a palpable feel of strength of will about her, as though her spine were made of steel.  Moraine appeared—in short—to be a power to be reckoned with.  He vowed to tread carefully regarding whatever topic she had arrived to discuss.

She sipped her tea, then nodded her approval, “Ah…it’s been far too long since I sampled this welcoming taste of Kamar-Taj.  Though I regret I shall never raise my cup with the Ancient One again.”

“Her loss remains a heavy one for us to bear, Mistress Moraine,” he replied, a truth he felt most keenly every day, “And nothing would make me happier than for her to be here in my place.”

“I bear the condolences of my people for the dread passing of a wise leader and constant ally,” she told him, “And for myself, I share in your grief; for I had known the Sorcerer Supreme from my youth—as a teacher, then a mentor, and at the last, a friend.”

“I envy you that,” he admitted, “We all miss her guidance—but we have done our best to go forward as we believe she would see fit.”

Moraine narrowed her eyes, looking for the truth in his reaction, “And you do not seek to guide in her place?  To bear the mantle she wore for centuries?”

Stephen shook his head vehemently, “I assure you, I am not that man.  And honestly, I can’t think of anyone who could fill her shoes.”

She nodded, pleased with his reply, than raised her cup.  “It is always so with the best of leaders.  May we all do her proud in the service we provide to our worlds.”

“May we indeed,” he echoed, drinking from his cup as well.

Formalities now aside, Moraine was swift to reveal the surprising purpose of her visit.  “I come on a personal matter, Master Strange.  ‘Tis my hope you will entertain my request, if not for the sake of relations between our worlds, but for she whom we both miss.”

“I am certain we can accommodate you, Mistress Moraine.  The resources of Kamar-Taj are at your service.” 

“Even as I had anticipated,” she asserted, wearing a small relieved smile, “As you may know, Hadeeth has a good share of practitioners of the mystic arts.  And in our culture, this is a thing well-known, even aspired to.  In fact, by long standing tradition, the majority of those who sit on our ruling council are skilled in magic.”

Strange nodded, having gleaned those facts from the Ancient One’s notes, “Magic being the primary reason our worlds are well-suited as allies.”

Moraine bobbed her head in a brief acknowledgement, then continued, “On Hadeeth, we have found that the aptitude for magic, and the strength to wield it properly, are most prevalent in certain bloodlines.  As a result, it is not uncommon for a particular clan to hold a council seat for several generations.”

“I take it that is your own experience,” he inferred.

“It is, Master Strange.  But seats are not granted automatically—and those aspiring to them must pass a series of tests, unique to the individual.”

“And these tests involve the use of magic?”

“Exactly so—and thus arises my need for your assistance,” she admitted.

A bit perplexed, he might’ve asked, but Moraine had anticipated his question.  “Not for myself, Master Strange—for my daughter, Teyla.”  And then surprising him, she added, “A daughter of both our worlds.”

Not having known such a mingling of their races was even possible, it took a moment for him to respond, “You’re asking that we train her here, in Kamar-Taj?”

Moraine’s face took on a pleasant sort of softness, clear sign of the depth of her feelings for her child.  “She has ever been my greatest treasure, and from the moment in which I discerned that she possessed aptitude for the mystical arts, I had planned to entrust my own best teacher with her tutelage.”  She lowered her eyes, her voice become sorrow-tinged, “Who could have anticipated that such a plan would go unrealized?”

Stephen remained speechless, moved by her quiet show of grief.  In the months since the Ancient One fell, he had learned things about her he had never expected—always making him long for the fruits of the wisdom she might have shared with him.

Having set aside her sorrow, Moraine looked to him again, firm of purpose, “Teyla’s skill--her strength—lies in the healing of body, mind, and heart.  And though this ability is a miracle in itself, it does not suit well the sort of trials she is likely to face in the fullness of time.”

The doctor in him wanted to ask more of Hadeethan healing magic, but the situation would not allow for it—though he made a promise to himself to learn more of their practices when possible, with an eye towards the exchange of knowledge that might enable him to fulfill again that purpose of more than half his lifetime.  “What training would best prepare your daughter for these future trials?”

Moraine looked please at his show of willingness, “She will need to develop defensive skills, for both her own safety, and for those who may someday fall under her protection.”  She paused, gauging his reaction, and then concluded, “Teyla also possesses a small degree of prescience, although she is not yet capable of employing it at will.  She dreams, yet cannot tell when the images may come to pass; she has strong, yet unpredictable, flashes of intuition, which she finds difficult to interpret.  This gift is useless to her until she can cultivate the proper wisdom and discipline.”

“There are no teachers on Hadeeth that might guide her?” he asked, “Seers are rare, even in Kamar-Taj.  I can’t guarantee our knowledge is enough to guide her beyond the most rudimentary training.”

“They are rarer still, on Hadeeth,” Moraine shrugged, “So rare they come but a handful of times in each generation.  Though I am her mother, I haven’t even a touch of that gift.”   

Stephen nodded, considering her request a moment.  “We will do our best, Mistress Moraine—but in this case, I can make no promise.”

“I understand, Master Strange.  And with this understanding, I will entrust you with Teyla’s further education.  For the sake of our alliance,” she reminded him, “And for all the hopes a parent has for their child’s safety and happiness.”

They had concluded their meeting by settling upon three Earth days as the interval until Teyla would arrive at Kamar-Taj.  “Of course, we’ll need to see what magic your daughter is already capable of, before we proceed with any training plan,” he cautioned her, as he and Wong escorted her back to the courtyard for her departure.  “Please be sure she understands what lies ahead.”

“Oh, she is already more than prepared for that,” Moraine told him gratefully, “And she has spent a share of time on Earth--living with her father for several years--so you should find she will easily acclimate to your world.”  With that, she drew on her sling ring—the magical tool which the Ancient One had shared with the Hadeethans, in consideration of their partnership—and conjured a portal back to her home world.  Stephen could discern very little of what lay on the other side; a room half lit with what could be daylight, vague shapes that were likely Hadeethan furniture.

Moraine turned his way, and bowed low, and then rose to meet his eye.  “Please keep in mind, Master Strange, that some of the tests Teyla may come to face are dangerous.  I beg you to see she is properly prepared to survive, beyond the training I have already given her.  I will be in your debt, and Earth’s, for the remainder of my days—and look forward to the day when I can be of service to your world, in return.”  She stepped into the portal, and raised her hand in farewell, closing the circle before he could utter a word in reply.

“Well, this should prove interesting,” Wong observed, “How much experience do you have dealing with teenagers?”

“Barely to none,” Stephen confessed, “And I hadn’t counted on being asked to play a schoolmaster to a rookie sorcerer.”

Wong chuckled, amused at Strange’s befuddlement, “I’m thinking diplomacy will turn out to be child’s play, compared to the task you have ahead of you.”

“Yes,” Steven agreed grimly, heading back to the library to continue his studies of earlier. “And I’d much rather be navigating my way through the human brain, then babysit an angsty adolescent.”

Feedback/Reblogs are incredibly meaningful. Please support content creators by doing us the honor. Thank you!

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buy me a coffee?☕

[shingekinomyfeelings]

Shh (Reiner x female reader; smut, PWP; mdni please)

nsfw. canon universe, alt timeline, 104th cadet training era in which characters are aged up to 18+. ~700 words. content warning for implied penetration and explicit dialog. contains dirty talk, reader getting railed on a dresser, and Reiner being a horrible little tease

You might be a little shy about being overheard, but Reiner sure isn't.

notes: let me say it again so we're super clear here - characters in my fics set during the cadet era should be assumed to be aged up to 18+, in a very slightly less miserable world in which training doesn't start at age 13. If this is really objectionable to you, that's okay, you don't need to read it.

This is by far my filthiest bit of writing as of yet, and my first pure PWP bit. At first I was kind of mortified about sharing it! I'd never even tried to write anything approaching dirty talk before and was worried it would be super 'off' and, you know, reflective of my being an asexual who's never touched a dick, and posted it sort of... hoping only a few people would read it - and then pretty few people did. But, somehow, over time I started feeling way more confident about and maybe even proud of this one, and honestly wishing I'd hyped it up more. It still feels weird for me to share smut with anyone, but I'm ngl, writing shit this shamelessly horny is actually a lot of fun. What's happened to me?

Anyway, love it or not, thank you for reading and for giving me an audience for trying new things like this. I think it's what pushes writers to grow.

Oh yeah, there are also some minor edits from the original version because I can't help myself.

originally published January 2023

Training exercises in the interior are rare, but they also come with a rare perk – you get to spend the night at an actual inn, with your own rooms and soft, comfy beds.

Currently, though, you’re not on the soft, comfy bed. Having slipped quietly from your room and sneaked off to Reiner’s, you’re currently seated on the dresser, clothes wantonly discarded across the floor, hair falling over your shoulders as your boyfriend stands, fucking into you with a desperation that you can only assume is inspired by the elegant change of scenery.

It’s certainly easier to sneak around at a place like this, and while you were a little tired after training and would have been content just to lay in bed with him and cuddle, Reiner was never one to waste an opportunity. He was also as charmingly persuasive as ever, those imploring golden honey eyes coaxing you into an exercise that was far more pleasant than training ever was.

Squeezing your breasts, kissing your neck, soft, deep moans offering a counterpoint to yours, Reiner is a sweeter and more exuberant partner than you imagine there may be behinds these walls...

That doesn’t change the fact that you’re currently in very close proximity to the rest of the 104th, though.

When a series of especially enthusiastic thrusts suddenly cause the dresser to rattle loudly against the wall, you’re more than a little mortified to imagine that the others are probably still awake in their own rooms and press your lips to Reiner’s neck with a hiss. “Shh! What if the others hear that?”

“Mm, hear what? The dresser?” He repositions you a little so that you’re forced to look into his eyes, a brow raised in amusement as he makes absolutely no effort to soften his pace. “That could be anything, for all they know, dove.”

But then a wicked little smile spreads across his face, and he slides your hips forward and angles them wider to let himself sink in deeper. Your tiny gasp only makes his smirk broaden.

“Or,” he continues, leaning in so his lips are nearly brushing against your ear, his thrusting into you becoming quite agonizingly deliberate, “Are you worried they’ll hear something else? Like how good I’m fucking you right now? Doesn’t bother me one bit.”

His voice is soft and just above a whisper, and his breath is warm against your skin. Your own breath is quickening a little and your cheeks feel like they’re on fire in response to his teasing, but you find you’ve lost any inclination to admonish him - and he’s so fucking annoyingly aware of it. A little huff of a chuckle almost feels like a caress against your cheek.

“Think they can hear how soaking wet this pussy is every time I slide my fat fucking cock into it? I sure can.”

A whimper escapes your throat and your voice slips out as a whine. “F-fuck, Reiner...” You’d hate to admit it, but his words affect you in ways he can feel all too well.

Reiner’s exhalations are growing shaky now, like your response is a call of encouragement. “Are you afraid they can hear those cute little sounds you make? Mmph – your sweet little whimpers? The way you say my name like it’s the only word you know? Shit--” He rests his forehead against yours for a few heartbeats, voice almost slipping into something softer. “Not gonna lie, I do like being the only one who’s ever heard those...”

He’s quick to recover from this lapse, though, and being keenly aware of how close you’re getting, he moves his hips against you faster, and sweetly kisses your forehead. “Don’t care if they hear the rest, though. Honestly, I fucking want them to hear it and know it’s my hot cum spilling out of you right now. I could keep on filling you up with my cum until they can hear it dripping onto the fucking floor.”

And then in an instant, he pauses, tilting your head back to fix you with that smug, infuriating, gorgeous grin of his. “Of course I can stop if you’re really that scared they’ll hear us.”

With mild irritation evident in your voice, you pull him against you so you can press your lips fervently to his neck again. “I think I can live with them hearing.

[game-set-canet]

hi!! i was wondering if you could write something about the reader comforting andrey over something? i think andrey needs a hug ngl. love you’re writing!! 🫶

A room without light

Pairing: Andrey Rublev x f!reader

category: fluff

warnings: self-doubt

Author’s Note: sorry that it took me so so long to write this, i hope you like it 💕 also: English isn’t my first language, so I’m very sorry for mistakes!

* Y/N = your name

MY MASTERLIST

(not my gif! credits to the owner/creator!)

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The door closes with a quite click behind you. The hotel room is completely dark and you can’t see anything. You know your boyfriend is somewhere here – or at least you hope so.

“Andrey?”, you whisper while you take a few steps into the room, “Andrey, are you here?”

At first you don’t get an answer, but then you hear a soft hum on your left. You feel some of relief rushing over you: You found him. Finally.

After the end of the match and a quick, rather unpleasant press conference Andrey disappeared. None of his team nor you had an idea where he went. Usually you would head back to the hotel together and so no one expected Andrey to actually go back alone. But after searching for him for nearly 30 minutes and hundreds of unanswered text messages and phone calls, you decide to drive back to the hotel and prayed that he is there.

You hesitate for a moment before you whisper again: “Can I turn on the light?”

This time the answer comes immediately: “No!”

The moment you realised that Andrey was sitting alone in the dark you knew it was bad.

“Okay…”, you take a deep breath, “Where are you?”

“Couch.”

It breaks your heart how sad he sounds.

“Can I sit with you?”

“Yes.”

Slowly you make your way to the couch, carefully not to bump into any furniture. Finally, you feel the couch armrest, but when your hand reaches over the seating surface, the couch is empty.

“Andrey, where-?“

“Floor.”

Andrey wasn’t sitting on the couch but on the floor, leaning his back against it.

You sit down next to him and slide your arms around his upper body. He immediately leans into your hug and hides his face in the crook of your neck.

Nobody says a word. You just feel Andrey's breath against your skin.

You run your fingers through the hair on the back of his head: “We…we were worried when you suddenly disappeared.”, you don’t know if that’s the right moment to talk about his disappearing because you would have to talk about the reason for it and you know he doesn’t want to talk about his loss.

Andrey takes a deep breath, it’s hard to understand him: “I’m sorry.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. Not really.”, suddenly he lets go of you and leans back against the couch, staring in the dark, “And I mean…nothing happened. I mean…I played a good tournament, didn’t I?”

You mirror his sitting position while you left hand searches for his left: “Yes, you played a good tournament.”

He takes your hand in his and gives it a soft squeeze: “I could be proud of myself, couldn’t I?”

“Yes, you could be proud of you.”, you take your clasped hands in your lap.

“Why am I not proud of myself then?”

You smile sadly: “Because you are too hard on yourself.”, your thumb gently strokes the back of his hand, “Because you always focus on the few little things that went wrong instead of concentrating on the big, positive picture.”, you snuggle closer to him and lean your head on his shoulder, “Because you are an overthinker.”

He leans his head against yours and closes his eyes: “My god, I hate it.”

You instinctively know that he actually meant to say 'myself' instead of ‘it’.

It breaks your heart to hear him talking like that.

“No, you don’t. It’s just very difficult sometimes.”, you press a quick kiss on the back of his hand and turn your head, although it’s dark in the room you can see his eyes now, “But all of that makes you the unique person you are.”, you raise one hand and place your hand on his left cheek, “Makes you the person I love with all my heart.”

“And yes, you can be proud of yourself! You played a really impressive tournament with very good tennis-”, you feel Andrey twitch beside you and know he wants to say something, but you continue talking, “and yes, you lost the quarterfinal but that’s okay!”

He shakes his head and sits up, you lose all contact except for the interlocked hands: “I’m not good enough! I lost this quarterfinal and the quarter final in Wimbledon…I didn’t even reach the quarterfinal during the French Open…and the quarterfinal of the Austrian Open, and-”

You interrupt him quickly: “Andrey! Andrey, look at me”, you wait until your boyfriend stops muttering and looks at you, “It’s okay! You played a really good tournament! And you played a really good season! You won your first ATP 1000-tournament this season and your level is very solid this season. You ARE good enough. You are better than just ‘good enough’.”

Andrey takes a deep breath, before he shakes his head and - at first, you think you misheard - but then he chuckled: “You’re making it quite hard to be sad for a long time, you know that?”, he pulls you closer to him.

It feels so so good to hear him laugh a little, to know that got a bit happier again. “Good.”, you smile.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“Always.”

You close the distance between you and kiss him softly.

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tagging: @bluetackbaby@lxndonorris @fedalev