#Laurent LeClaire x you

[bits-and-babs]

𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄 — 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐄

-> OCT. 21 : MASTURBATION

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. Period accurate vocabulary(ish), exhibitionism, light teasing, making of Victorian-era porn

WC: 1048

[Kinktober Masterlist] [Main Masterlist]

Standing before the easel, you brush your fingers over the clean, crisp, textured material of the canvas you plan to work with. It’s set up just perfect, the top settled just below your nose so you can glance over it at your subject.

You take your time, setting out the paints you may need and squirting out the primary colours you needed onto your palette. Casting your eye over the scene you plan to transfer to the canvas, you mix these colours together carefully, wanting to capture its beauty and all its glory.

When all set up and comfortable, you nod to yourself, casting your eyes over the canvas and catching the poor man’s attention with a smile.

“You may begin,” you say, taking up your paintbrush and beginning to set about ‘sketching’ the basic shape of your lover's body thrown over the sofa. He’s naked, head balanced on the plush velvet of the armrest with his cock in his hand.

“You are filthy,” he muses, his hand slowly, delicately brushing up and down the length of his cock. He’s taking his time, giving you the time you need to establish the basis of your painting.

“I am not,” you insist calmly, eyes flitting between the canvas and your lover’s body, “I simply wish to be able to remember how handsome you look this way. It’s not to be shared with anyone.”

“Perhaps you should,” he murmurs, almost lazily as his thumb sweeps over the reddened tip of his swollen cock, “You think me not deserving enough of my place in the Louvre?”

“Of course I do,” you smirk to yourself, loving how Laurent shared your debauchery. It forever kept your relationship exciting, kept the two of you utterly besotted with each other “But I happen to not want to share. Some things are too beautiful not to have as wholly yours.”

Your fingers work deftly to establish a basic shape of the scene before you, carefree and not deliberate with the strokes of the camel-hair brush. The details and concentration would come later.

“You worry that women would become utterly besotted with me?” His voice hitches slightly as he slowly pushes his hips up into his palm.

“That’s less of a concern of mine than the worry they would chase us out of France, my love,” you muse, giving him a look over the top of the canvas. From where he sits, you know he can only see your eyes.

“My love, don’t look at me like that,” he murmurs, words catching ever so slightly in his throat, the strain in his voice ever so slight, “You won’t have time to finish the sketch-“

“You’d be surprised, Laurent,” You admit, enjoying the slick, wet sound of his palm teasing his cock. You wanted to capture it, that need he felt for you. Immortalise it in a painting only for the two of you. It’s true, the both of you could be forced into exile for such a scandalous piece of art, but that was part of the fun, was it not?

The soft grunts of exhertion from Laurent trying so hard to maintain somewhat still in order for you to establish a sketch while also battling the need to fuck his hand incessantly made you hot under the collar of your dress. He looked so needy, eyes rolling back and teeth sinking into the soft plush of his lower lip as he teased himself just for you to capture.

“So handsome, Laurent,” you praise him, only for his hips to stutter slightly. He looks to you with a needy gaze, breath laboured now.

“Darling, you really are not helping me maintain-“

“I don’t need you to,” you admit, glancing over the easel to him once more with that heavy-lidded, siren-like gaze you know he adored, “I just need you to feel good.”

The confirmation of what you want from Laurent appear to ease his concern, as he begins to rub his cock in earnest. His fingers tight around the shaft, his back arches slightly as beads of precum slip down the length of him.

“Hnng… Fuck, darling you have no idea how you drive me mad,” he laughs weakly, the crown of his head pushing into the plush of the velvet sofa. His chest expands and deflates heavily now, dick twitching in his hand.

“In the best way, I should hope,” you tease him, listening to him laugh again only for it to devolve into a needy moan.

“Don’t make me come over there and fuck you,” he speaks crudely, knowing well that you enjoyed when he ran his mouth like this.

“Why, that would defeat the purpose of the painting, wouldn’t it?” You grin from ear to ear, listening to him moan out your name as he abandons all hope of staying still for you. His hips are jolting up into his fist, fucking his palm so needily now as if he had spent a lifetime without you. It’s desperate, heavy, crude.

You watch him, paintbrush and palette in hand momentarily forgotten as you witness him keen for you, the veins in his neck protruding and the sweat gathering on his temples and brow. He’s so beautiful, cheekbones and the bridge of his nose flushed with need as he struggles, eyelashes fluttering and lips shaping around a long, loud moan.

“Oh God-“ he choked out, his movements suddenly quickening. Laurent is desperate, his breaths so heavy now that his whole body shakes with each exhale as his cock twitches in his palm. “Oh-“

Ropes of cum paint his soft stomach as his body trembles, his fist still working his cock as he cums heavily. It’s more beautiful than anything ever captured in the Louvre, far too stunning for just anyone to see.

After a moment, the sound of Laurent’s heavy breaths ricocheting off the walls die down, his eyes closed as his body slumps into the pillows of the couch.

“I need you to do it again,” you whisper.

“I- Pardon?” Laurent looks over at you with wide eyes, hand still clutching his softening cock.

“I need you to do it again,” you repeat, the sly smile painted on your lips hidden only by the top of the canvas, “I missed it.”

“Oh, you sly dog-“

END

@in-for-a-pennyx @hoeneey @howaboutcastiel @markywithissues @welcometostayingawake @inklore @foxilayde @syrma-sensei @ethanhoewke

[ninebluehearts]

hi! could you please do “You look so good with my hands wrapped around your neck” and "get on your hands and knees, right now" prompts with Laurent?💖

Omg- I sure can! I'm so sorry this took me forever to write- instead of telling everyone what went wrong and why I haven't been active lately, I'll just tell you this.

I gave myself bangs.

Again. 😀👍

Taglist: @ethanhoewke and @giona45-5 (figured you'd wanna be tagged in works involving your hubby 😉💕)

You stood in front of your full sized mirror holding two necklaces; one in each hand. You held them up to your neck one at a time to figure out which one matched your dress the best. Laurent had insisted on taking you out for a night on the town tonight and you wanted to look your best.

A small knock sounded from the door before it slowly pushed open. "Y/n? Are you dressed yet?" Laurent walked in, but kept his eyes squeezed shut, dramatically waving his arm around so he didn't run into anything, even though he knew every room in the house like the back of his hand.

You looked at him in the mirror and shook your head, a wide grin spread across your face. "Jesus Christ Laurent, will you please open your eyes and help me pick a necklace?"

Laurent chuckled as he shut the door behind himself. "Just being a gentleman." He walked over and gently snaked his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. "What are my options?"

"Well, I have this silver one, which would go well with the blue flowers on my dress. But I also have this gold one, which would go well with the pink flowers."

But as you continued to hold up each of your necklaces and go on about how either of them would match your dress, Laurent slowly slipped his hand up the front of your dress, humming along to your words as he began to press kisses to the softest parts of your neck.

"But I think that the silver one-" You froze as Laurent's hand wrapped around your throat, his eyes focused on you as he watched from the mirror. "What are you doing?" You released a quiet gasp as he gently squeezed your throat, your eyes fluttering shut.

"Mon chérie, you look so good with my hand wrapped around your neck.." Laurent pushed your head to the side with his finger against your jaw, leaning down to press a passionate kiss to your lips. He continued a rhythm in which he would squeeze your neck for a few moments, then release when it began to be too much. He somehow always knew when it started to become unbearable.

You pulled away to catch your breath, both from his kiss and from his hand. "Where did all of this come from?" You said with a nervous laugh, your hand pressed against your chest in an attempt to calm your racing heart.

"I don't know, honestly. You just look so good in that dress.. Are you okay? Did you like that?"

You looked at him through the mirror with a smirk. "I think loved it."

Laurent bit his lip, thinking of a way to respond. "Fuck it." He reached out and grabbed your arm, spinning you around before pulling you into another fervent kiss.

When you pulled away to catch your breath once again, Laurent moved his lips down to your neck instead, wanting to be as close as possible. "Fuck, baby, I need you so bad." You mumbled, your fingers knotting themselves into his raven hair.

Laurent picked you up and walked over to the bed in three long strides, dropping you onto the mattress. You stared up at him in shock, watching the quick rise and fall of his chest as soft pants escaped his lips. "Get on your hands and knees. Right now."

Your eyes widened as he unbuttoned his shirt, never once taking his eyes off of you. "Do we have time?"

Laurent leaned forward and kissed your forehead, gently shaking his head. "Not tonight, my love. But I promise we can try again tomorrow."

You slowly nodded, leaning up to press another kiss to his lips, trying to keep things slow and gentle this time. "I love you." You whispered once he pulled away again, keeping his face less than an inch away from yours.

Laurent reached down and grabbed your hand, pressing a kiss to the back. "I love you too, mon chérie."

[boredzillenial]

Laurent Leclaire

Sweet Relief

Laurent finds you during a difficult time of the month, he wants to help you feel better.

Jonathan Levy

A Simple Arrangement

Jonathan wakes you in the night to meet his needs with your agreement

King John

Exhibitionism

🎃 King John upholds his scandalous reputation and takes what he wants.

Jack Jackson

Dirty Talk & More

🎃 You come home to find a stranger by your pool.

Orestes

Bathhouse

🎃 Orestes follows you to the bathhouse and admits how intriguing you are to him.

My Dove

📨 Orestes trying to woo his bride

Basil Stitt

Anonymous Sex

🎃 You take a risk and try anonymous sex, but the man you meet is a little… off…

Pizza Delivery

📨 Orestes hears of a Saint that may span the hostility between him and his new bride.

Richard Muñoz

Vouyerism

🎃 Richard knew better than this, but he just can’t help himself.

Nathan Bateman

Data

Your boss Nathan needs your body “for science”

Poe Dameron

Sir’s Suprise

📨 Poe is off on a mission but has just the thing to fill his pet’s needs

[mochimoqa]

◆◇Mochi's Masterlist◇◆

(Yes, I already had a Masterlist pero I accidentally deleted it, so I needed to make it from scratch again-)

◆Blue Jones Masterlist

🎨♡Laurent LeClaire Masterlist

🌙Steven Grant Masterlist

🌙Marc Spector Masterlist

🔪🌙Jake Lockley Masterlist

💶Anselm Vogelweide Masterlist

👑Duke Leto Atreides Masterlist

🕷🕸Miguel O'Hara Masterlist

🌌Poe Dameron Masterlist

⚡️Basil Stitt Masterlist

🎸🐈Llewyn Davis

——————————————————

MEET THE CREATOR!

——————————————————

Heyo! I'm Mochi Moch! Or you can call me Mochi Moqa or Mochi for short :]

I'm best known for my c.ai bots, fics, and art!

Also best known for having an unhealthy obsession with Oscar Isaac-

I'm an amateur writer on here and on wattpad! (@/W3irdc0r3_dud3)

If you want a request either for art, bots, or fics, just send me a DM on Tumblr!

IMPORTANT!!

My requests are closed for now!!

My requests are open!!

——————————————————

Español ver.

——————

¡Hola! ¡Soy Mochi Moch! O puedes llamarme Mochi Moqa o Mochi para abreviar. :]

Soy mejor conocido por mis bots c.ai, ¿fics? ¡Y arte!

También mejor conocido por tener una obsesión enfermiza con Oscar Isaac.

¡Soy un escritor aficionado aquí y en Wattpad! (@/W3irdc0r3_dud3)

Si quieres una solicitud de arte, bots o fics, ¡envíame un DM a Tumblr!

¡¡IMPORTANTE!!

¡¡Mis solicitudes están cerradas por ahora!!

¡¡MIS PEDIDOS ESTÁN ABIERTOS!!

——————

Q&A!!

Q: Mochi, what music do you listen to?

A: I usually listen to indie music or some banda music. Pero, I love Kali Uchis!!

My favorite song so far! ^^

——————————————————

[melodygatesauthor]

Painted

Laurent LeClaire X f!Reader

Not Beta Read

Summary:

You're a woman alone at the bar and you witness an argument between a husband and wife. The wife leaves, and you're left alone with her sexually frustrated husband.

Tags/Warnings (for entire series):

NSFW, dubious consent (reader doesn't say yes to Laurent but it's clear that she's into it), smut, a tiny sprinkle of angst, pussy eating, blowjob, playing with cum, p in v creampie, sex with a stranger, unprotected sex, semi-public sex.

Word Count: 2.7k

You saw the whole argument unfold. The man shouting at his wife in the busy Paris bar. She, clearly filled with disdain for her spouse, climbed on the table and spread her legs for him. He undid his belt, pulled his thick cock out and tried to bring it to life. You wondered if he was struggling because he’d had far too much to drink, or if the couple hated each other so deeply that she didn’t pique his desires any longer.

Either way, after she left, you were the last person in the bar, and he looked right at you.

He sauntered over, wiping a bit of drool off his chin as he got closer to you. Your breath hitched in your throat and you felt your cheeks burning. He chuckled, breath stinking of alcohol as he brushed the back of his index finger over your neck.

“Your skin is soft,” he commented, biting his lip. “I’d love to paint you.”

You didn’t protest as he lifted your rear onto the table behind you. His fingertips brushed over your inner thigh, trailing along until they reached your underpants. His breath trembled as his face drew closer to yours.

“You wouldn’t tell me no, would you?” He tucked a finger into your underwear and started pulling them down your legs carefully, as if he were still waiting for you to push him away. He discarded them, putting both hands on your knees and parting your thighs wide. “You’ll always keep these legs open for me, won’t you chérie?”

“Mm,” was all you could mutter as you felt the fat tip of his cock pressing against your entrance.

It had been so long since you’d been in the company of a man, and your eagerness was made apparent by the slick arousal dripping out of you. It clearly wasn’t the drunkenness that made him flaccid, the man had no issue spearing through your tight hole like it was his. He breathed out a moaning sigh, rolling his hips at an even, lazy pace.

He leaned in, mouth closing over yours as he shoved himself deeper, hand reaching under your leg to push it back, spreading your thighs wider for him. You gasped, mouth open over his while the bar was filled with your sounds. He nipped at your bottom lip, his other hand sliding up to grab your breast which was still trapped behind the bodice of your dress.

“Your body is so beautiful, sweetheart. Such a shame I don’t have time to really admire it,” he chuckled, slipping his tongue past your lips and entangling it with yours.

He pushed you back, mouths parting before you could protest, so your spine was flat along the table. With a swift tug, he gripped where your dress concealed your breasts and pulled it downward. Both of your tits spilled out, bouncing in time with his thrusts. His flushed cheeks became more prominent with his drunken grin. A low groan emerged from his lips as he leaned down to catch one of your nipples in his mouth.

“Oh, sir, oh god!”

He sucked and bit at your nipple like he was desperate for it. His body moved faster, both hands reaching down now to hold onto your hips for leverage. You couldn’t feign modesty anymore, your pleasured screams filling the empty bar and likely spilling into the back streets of Paris.

“Oui, mon chérie, keep squeezing yourself around me like that and I shall paint your insides white,” he whispered against your breast.

You grabbed the edge of the table, spine arching backward and legs spreading wider as he drove deeper into you than before. You felt him reaching the deepest parts of your center, the tip of his cock brushing in a smooth motion against that spot inside of you that made your body tremble. You were weak, a distinct tingling pooling in the pit of your core and spreading all over every inch of your skin.

“Oh god, oh-my-oh-oh!”

In an instant you came. Your entire body gave in to the sensations around you: his mouth over your breast, his tongue flicking masterfully at your nipple, his hand holding onto your outer thigh and squeezing it tightly. You felt everything as though every nerve ending in your body had caught fire.

“Your face is perfection at the height of your pleasure,” he whined, the tone of his voice heightened as his orgasm drew nearer. “The next time we meet, I s-shall, oh-for-god’s-sake, I shall have you touch yourself so I can paint the exact moment when you…”

His hips slammed into yours one final time. A series of choked gasps filled the bar as he made good on his promise to paint your walls white with his hot spend. You liked that feeling of being filled up, even if it was just a stranger at a bar. Perhaps you enjoyed it all the more because it was just a stranger at a bar.

He remained for a moment longer with his body leaned over yours, lips peppering sweet kisses along your sternum as he worked them back up to your neck, your jaw, and then your mouth. His drunken kisses were still sloppy, but you never wanted them to stop.

“What a sweet little muse you are,” he whispered. “I’ve not felt this warmth in my heart for a woman in some time, chérie. I will come back for you every night until my legs no longer work, and you will let me paint you every time, won’t you?”

You nodded, feeling his cock fall out of your hole as it softened. The sound of cum trickling from your cunt tapped like a leaky faucet on the stone floor. With another feather soft kiss, the man stood back from you, looking down at your body with a hooded, lusty gaze. He hardly managed to button his pants, let alone replace his belt, eventually giving up on it all together. 

Without another word exchanged between either of you, he stumbled out, leaving you there on the table to wonder if he would ever come back to ‘paint you’ again.

~~~~

To your relief, he did come back, and this time when he saw you he was sober. He had an artist's satchel with him, and he led you to a back room of the dingy bar where no one wandered. The lighting was dim, and you could smell something foul, but you were happy to see the man again. You tried to kiss him, but he interrupted you with a finger to your lips.

“I want you to remove your clothes and sit in that chair for me,” he said sweetly.

Without a word you nodded, beginning to remove your clothes. You dropped your dress and undergarments in a heap on the floor. You walked over to the chair and sat as instructed.

“May I know your name, sir?” You asked.

He chuckled, “and ruin the allure that comes with such mystery? I think not, chérie.”

You had to admit that there was a bit of added appeal to the man when you didn’t know his name at all. He could be anyone, from anywhere, who had done anything, and you’d never be the wiser. There was something very exciting and tantalizing about that prospect.

He set up his kit, several brushes and pigments at the ready. You wondered if the barkeep let him paint in there regularly, as he seemed to have an easel and canvas ready to prop up and start his work. He walked over to you, kneeling down by your feet and running his fingers up your calf and to your knee. You felt your breathing grow shallow as those daring fingertips made their way between your closed legs, his other hand coming up to do the same.

“Open,” he cooed, assisting the spread of your thighs with his large hands prying between them. “Wow,” he mused, “what a wondrous beauty.”

He looked up at you, pretty brown eyes glistening in what little light the dim room afforded you both. He kept your gaze while he leaned forward, the tip of his distinguished nose brushing against your already swelling clit. Your lips parted for a wavering breath. Your hand instinctively moved to tangle in his dark locks. His hot breath melted over your folds.

A moan rolled through him as his lips made contact with your cunt. His tongue slid between your slit, and a sharp gasp punched out of your lungs. You gripped his hair tighter, your hips arching into his mouth as if what he was giving you wasn’t enough. He hummed, facial hair brushing against your thighs softly while his head moved to hit all the right spots.

“S-sir I…oh I can’t…oh-god!”

Save for your pleasured panting, the only other sound in the room was his messy slurping as your arousal coated his face. Every now and then the man would look up at you, eyes caked in a pussy-drunk hunger unlike any you’d ever seen. His grip tightened on your thighs, and his nose continued rubbing in delicious circles around your sensitive clit.

Two of his delightfully thick fingers worked between your pussy lips, sliding slowly forward until he was curling them inside of you, all the while he was working his tongue around your swollen nub. You thought you might fall over, using his hair and your grip on the chair beneath you to establish some sort of stability as your body shook.

He added another finger, somehow managing to fit all three inside you and pump them into your hole until you were nearly choking on the air that filled your lungs. It was all so much, the sensations overwhelming until they washed over your body in waves. You felt your cunt contract, juices gushing around his knuckles and coating his hand while your walls squeezed over him. You moaned, eyes rolling back and you struggled to keep yourself from falling over. 

The man looked up at you again, rising on his feet just enough to catch your mouth in his. You could taste yourself on him and after enough hungry kisses, your flavor was gone. He pulled back from you, lips swollen and glossy in the light. He stepped back, unbuckling his pants quickly.

“I bet I can make you look even prettier for your portrait, don’t you think, sweetheart?” He asked, running his fingers over your arm and down to your hand, guiding you off the chair and onto your knees.

The floor was cold and the rough surface made your knees ache, but you didn’t have much time to think about your discomfort before his cock was in your face and distracting you from your thoughts. You knew what he wanted, of course. After all, there was a reason you were on your knees. You wrapped your fingers around it as best as you could, not quite able to meet your thumb on the other side. You lapped the tip, gulping down a sweet bead of precum that had collected there.

“I know you won’t disappoint me, chérie. I’ve had enough disappointment to last a man a lifetime. Take it all for me, and don’t hold bac-k-k.”

He moaned deeply the moment your mouth wrapped around his dick, lips sliding down until you reached the base, relaxing your throat to take the entire length. The thickness of him throbbed inside you, and you felt his hand reach to the back of your head to guide you back. He started churning his hips against your face, gagging you on every inch as his length stretched and filled your throat again and again.

You felt tears start to slip down your cheeks, the salty flavor landing along his cock for you to taste while you kept going. The smell of his musk made your mind go numb with desire every time your nose brushed along his soft tuft of pubic hair.

“You’re going to make the prettiest little model for me when I’m finished aren’t you? Oh this mouth, this mouth of yours is divine.” 

You hummed in acknowledgement while he continued fucking your throat. You felt your clit burning with arousal, begging for your touch. Your fingers wandered, slipping between your thighs to quell the ache as it grew. With a gasp your lips slipped off his cock, the strings of your slick saliva connecting you to his red tip. He thrust back into your mouth, his pace even faster.

“Don’t do that again, I need to feel that sweet tongue along every inch of me, sweetheart,” he rasped, a distinct whine playing in harmony with his usual baritone.

You kept your mouth on him, moving your fingers in circles around your clit in time with his thrusts. You could feel him twitch inside of you, cock leaking more of that sweet and savory taste you craved. You felt his body shaking, his movements becoming sloppier as he got closer to spilling into you. There wasn’t anything you craved more in that moment than to have him fill your belly with every bit he could.

Again you found yourself a mess, eyes rolling back in your head and body quaking as your orgasm ripped through you. You kept your mouth around him, the feeling of his cock in your throat felt even better when you were in a mind-numbed state of ecstasy. He fucked faster, the bruising pace gagging you and causing more tears to fall down your cheeks in streams.

He was there. He was right there…

You were shocked, and mildly disappointed when he pulled out of you, shooting hot spurts of his precious cum all over your body. Your face wasn’t the only part of you painted by him, he covered your tits, your neck, and even your thighs.

“There,” he sighed, licking his lips as satisfaction washed over him. “Now go back to your chair, my precious little muse. And keep those pretty legs parted, I want to make sure I get all your best features.”

You slowly stood and strode back in your chair, spreading your legs like he’d told you to. He pulled his pants back up, walking back to his canvas where you saw him grab a small dish and a brush before walking back over to you. He knelt down, holding the dish under your cunt and using the brush to collect your arousal into the porcelain bowl. 

“W-what are you–”

“Sh,” he smirked, looking up at you with a mischievous grin. “I’m trying out a new medium, chérie. Keep quiet and let me work.”

He collected your slick until he had a small amount in the dish. He took a bit of his own cum, still decorating your skin in various areas of your body, and he began mixing it with yours.

“Now don’t move, oui?”

You nodded, “oui.”

You watched as he painted, using both your juices to mix the pigment powders he’d brought with him. His eyes darted over the top of the canvas from time to time, narrowed in concentration as he worked. His spend dried on your body and face as the time went on, and you started to feel a bit chill, though you didn’t dare ask to put your clothes back on.

After quite some time he stopped, stepping back with a proud grin sporting his handsome face.

“Come see,” he whispered excitedly.

You walked over to see the painting the man had made of you. It truly was breathtaking, though it was clear the medium wasn’t binding well with the pigment. There were cracks from the dried slick, causing the paint to flake. A heartbreaking sight, but something about it made the creation all the more beautiful. The art piece was temporary, like a quick and wonderful thing that was never meant to last.

Like two strangers meeting a couple of times in a bar only to one day part ways, never to meet again.

Back to Miscellaneous Masterlist

Back to Main Masterlist

[ofstarsandvibranium]

My You-niverse Masterlist

Fandom: Oscar Isaac

Pairing: Oscar Isaac's Characters x F!Reader

Summary: You and America get stuck portal jumping until you reach your universe again. In the meantime, you meet various versions of your husband.

Status: COMPLETED

Marc Spector

Blue Jones

Laurent LeClaire

Nathan Bateman

Bud Cooper

Santiago Garcia

Richard Alonso Munoz

Duke Leto Atreides

Poe Dameron

Marc Spector & Steven Grant

*I WILL NOT BE TAKING TAGS!*

[justafandomgvrl]

Tattoo Artist AU pt1

Laurent Leclaire x F!Reader

Around 1000 words

You sit nervously in the waiting room, your knee bouncing. It’s your first tattoo, and to say you’re anxious is an understatement. A man walks out from the back and smiles at you, dark curls atop his head.

“Are you here for the 10am appointment?” He asks. You nod and he offers you his hand. “I’m Laurent.” You smile and shake his hand, introducing yourself. “Ah, of course, you were here with Camilo for your consultation a few days ago.” He says.

“Isn’t Camilo doing the tattoo?” You ask and Laurent chuckles as he slowly lets go of your hand and you get shakily to your feet.

“No, no, he does consultations and appoints the best tattooist for the idea.” Laurent explains as he leads you through to the room he had emerged from. He looks you up and down, almost frowning. “You seem anxious. Did you bring anything to eat?” He asks.

“I brought a little bit of chocolate. Camilo recommended it.” You say shyly. Laurent smiles and gestures for you to sit down in the chair in the centre of the room, which you climb on top of less than gracefully.

“Unbutton your shirt.” He says as soon as you’ve turned around. “You wanted it on the back of your shoulder, correct?” He asks and you nod, unbuttoning your shirt with shaky hands. His fingers brush your hair out of the way and you feel your breath hitch in your throat.

Laurent takes the stencil and gently presses it to your shoulder blade, applying the - what you would simply call ‘cold goop’ - to put the lines in place to ensure the tattoo matches what you want. He watches you from behind as he waits for the stencil to take on your skin. “What made you choose this design?”

You smile and shrug gently. “It’s from my favourite film,” is all that you say. He chuckles and nods, although you can tell that he’s not laughing at you.

You sit quietly as he removes the stencil and helps you to sit down with your front pressed against the chair, all but straddling it as he braids your hair out of the way.

“If you need me to stop at any point, you let me know, okay? I won’t charge for the extra time.” You smile and nod that you understand, resting your head on the top of the chair as you hear the tattoo gun turning on. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” You mumble and you can hear him chuckle again. “Yes, I mean, yes.” You correct quickly, your cheeks burning. You can almost feel him smiling at you. The needle presses against your skin and your breath hisses through your teeth as you will your body to stay completely still.

“Easy, easy, keep breathing,” he instructs, his voice in equal parts firm and soft. You close your eyes and focus your breathing, inhaling slowly and then exhaling. “Good girl.” He murmurs offhandedly and your cheeks blaze red. You’ve never been more grateful to have your back to someone.

By the time you’re halfway through the tattoo, you need a break. Laurent is watching your every move and you don’t even have to say anything. “Lets take five minutes,” he says with a smile. You nod, exhaling shakily. “You’re doing amazing.” His voice is far more gentle than you expect.

“I didn’t expect it to feel so… scratchy. I thought it would be more of a sharp pain but…” he moves around to the front of the chair as he switches the size of the needle attached to the gun to get to the more detailed lines.

“I hear that a lot. I would never say that it doesn’t hurt, but a lot of people exaggerate it.” Laurent says. “The pain might get a little bit worse now because the needle is thinner and the sound is louder, sometimes that can have the effect of more pain. Are you holding up okay?” He asks, and you can see genuine concern in his eyes.

“I’m okay.” You assure him. He smiles, moving back to sit behind you. Something about his smile stays in your mind as his hand brushes your neck to keep your hair out of the way as he begins the next section of the tattoo. You flinch and he hesitates. “I’m okay.” you repeat. He doesn’t argue and gets back to work, the lines flowing almost effortlessly as he permanently etches your design to your skin.

Something about him being the one doing it makes it even better for you.

Someone so beautiful leaving a permanent mark on you adds to your endorphins, to the adrenaline coursing through your body.

“Okay, are you ready to see?” Laurent’s soft voice makes you jump and he bites back a chuckle. You nod eagerly and hear a clicking sound before he wraps the tattoo and tapes the wrap to your skin. You button up your shirt and look over your shoulder to him as he shows you his phone screen.

The tattoo is more beautiful than you had ever imagined it being. He seems to have woven his soul into the work, and you can see it. You smile at him as you turn around fully and throw your arms around him.

“Thank you.” You whisper and he smiles, gently wrapping his arms around you, careful not to touch your shoulder.

You could swear the price he gives you is half of what was quoted but you’re floating so high on endorphins and adrenaline that you barely register it. He passes you a business card for “if anything goes wrong” and you smile and nod and walk out of the shop.

It takes until you get to the end of the street for you to look at the business card you were given.

Call me if you want to get a coffee - LL x

You could swear that you float even higher as you begin to text the number.

[midgardian-witch]

Moon Knight

Loving You (Plural) [Masterlist] (Reader x Moon Knight System x Layla)

You Haven't Seen The Mummy?! (Reader x Moon Knight System x Layla)

Anxious Attachment (Reader x Moon Knight System x Layla)

Meeting Steven (Steven Grant x Reader)

Meeting Jake (Jake Lockley x Reader)

Lazy Mornings (Layla El Faouly x Reader)

Moon Knight Bingo 2023/24 [Masterlist]

Requested Steven Fluff (Steven Grant x Reader)

Common Ground (Steven Grant & Jack Russell)

Tongue-tied (Steven Grant x Reader)

Feeling Bold (Jake Lockley x Reader)

Work-Love-Balance (Steven Grant x Reader)

Stupid Sexy Steven (Steven Grant x Reader)

Where To? (Jake Lockley x Reader)

All That Matters (Jake Lockley x Reader)

Love Lost (Jake Lockley x Reader) (kinda)

Mirror, Mirror (Steven Grant x Reader)

A Wondrous Thing (Moon Knight System x Reader)

Like Nobody's Watching (Moon Knight System x Reader)

The L-Bomb (Marc Spector x Reader)

Home's Not Home Unless You're There (Moon Knight System x Reader)

Tapped Out (Moon Knight System x Reader)

Ex Machina

Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts (Nathan Bateman x Reader)

Sober Words, Dirty Thoughts (Nathan Bateman x Reader)

(Not) Good Enough (Nathan Bateman x Reader)

Nathan Bateman Is A Brat

The Consequences Of Being A Brat (Nathan Bateman x afab!Reader)

Cruel To Be Kind (Of A Dick) (Nathan Bateman x afab!Reader)

Werewolf By Night

Good Boy (Jack Russell x afab!Reader)

Promise (Elsa Bloodstone x Reader) [version with podfic]

Little Games (Jack Russell x Reader)

Stop Right There (Jack Russell x Reader)

Follow The Scent (Jack Russell x Reader)

Tangled Up (Jack Russell x Reader)

Idiots (Jack Russell x Reader)

Mine (Jack Russell x Reader)

Blame It On The Moon (Jack Russell x afab!Reader)

Misc.

The Model (Laurent LeClaire x Reader)

The Fool (Laurent LeClaire x Reader)

Suggestions (Robbie Paulson x Reader)

A Lack Of Patience (Robbie Paulson x Reader)

Punishment (Miguel O'Hara x Reader)

Broken Toys (Blue Jones x Reader)

(No) Invitation Needed (Anselm Vogelweide x Reader)

[cosplayproblemsposts]

Give me an answer

It was a scandal from the very beginning, you caught his eye but you saw him as an experiment leading to your fallout.

Warning: Angst, a user(reader), and an affair.

Male character x Male reader

In the endless line of History, people would say and write how you rise from the Caribbean and paved your way to France along with your aligned affair.

Alice Hart your wife and mother of Hunter and Nicolas L/N ran alongside your two little boys. "HEY SLOW DOWN!" you call as the three dash to the stone steps of the entrance of your brand new home in the countryside of France.

Historians can only describe Alice Hart as stuck in the clouds who dreamt of a happy family but she wore her heart on her sleeves. She had to be one of the most graceful and one of America's greatest ballerinas...only if she saw through Y/N L/N lies then maybe it would have been different.

Books and documentaries have to describe Y/N L/N as the snake of it all and instigator of his own fate. Y/N had an affair with a fellow man who became his experiment and soon-to-be murderer in two years.

1866 April your wife and you were invited to a little game night by Madame Raquin "Isn't it a little far?" Alice sighs. "I know but I thought it'll be nice to spend some time alone and I MEAN alone" she chimes her way to unconvinced Y/N. "The boys would be taken care of by our lovely little nanny while we explore Pairs" she hums and pecks your lips "How does that sound?" you grin "Fine, we'll explore and win" Alice giggles "See, now bedtime".

The two arrived two days early "This apartment is not so bad...oh look one bed!" you frown a little "Don't we already sleep in one singularly bed TOGETHER". Alice huffs "Your killing the magic" she points a stern finger at you "Okay I'll play along...oh my one bed" you throw your hands up in sarcastic amazement.

There you stood in this little painting studio?..." I feel sad for the painter who's stuck here" you whisper to Alice who playful smacks your clothed chest. "Laurent, I'm sorry for the last-minute notice" Madame approaches a man who looks to be around your age "Oh, Laurent these are the L/N's and I hope you could paint them a portrait of each other".

Laurent felt as if his tongue has been swallowed once his eyes saw you "Hello I'm Alice and this is my husband Y/N" you send a nod his way. " Hello?, I hope this wouldn't be a problem" Alice's voice throws his attention back to the task beforehand "oh no, it won't".

That was the first time you ever met Laurent Leclaire and here you are in the midst of him painting your third portrait "I don't know why you've to use me as a reference Leclaire". Laurent could only smile "I'm not using you, I'm merely fascinated by you" you grin "Fascinated? what are you talking about?" Laurent feels the passion ignite within him the moment his eyes lay on you.

"You see, your handsome and you carry yourself differently compared to the men I've met" you hum and lick your lips. "So you're that fascinated by me you'll even paint a portrait of my hands" Laurent freezes, no one isn't supposed to know about his paintings of your hands. "I...yes!" Laurent frowns at you when you stood from your chair "What're you doing sit back down!" he gestures with the help of his paintbrush.

"Do you want to know how memorizing you are Laurent?" this is the first time you have ever called him by his first name and not his last name. "For I'll like you to know how you invade my mind" you coat red paint on the palm and fingers of your hands and look Laurent in his eyes with an unreadable gaze. "Would you like to know? Laurent" the Frenchmen grins and his confidence returns "Yes!".

That muggy evening your red-infested hand imprint places no one would ever imagine a fellow man would dare grope. You even had gone fair as to lock your painted hands in his hair and if Laurent was a little too loud you'll cup his mouth which left a red hand print.

Hunter ran into your arms "Oh my goodness you have grown heavy while I've been away" Hunter laughs and of course, Nicolas follows. Alice comes walking towards you three "Boys please go and play, I need to talk to your father" The two boys pout but you shook your head "C'mon now listen to your mother" you set down Hunter. Once the boys were out of earshot Alice turns to you "Where were you? I thought you'd be home by yesterday?" you frown "I grew picky" Alice cocks an eyebrow at you "Well you see I had to buy you something". An expensive golden necklace came to view "You are worth more than a few minutes" Alice gasped and welcomes the gift "See, I need more than a minute or two to find you a perfect gift" she kisses your cheek "I guess, I forgive you".

You took Laurent out to tailor store after tailor store which leaves him utterly smug for you'd stare at him much longer than normal. You bought him the most expensive paints and brushes, you'll buy him anything "I believe your a little too sweet to me" you grin "Of course". In hidden shadows, you'll share more than a conversation, and behind closed doors, the two of you would feed your endless lust and passion.

Alice wasn't forgotten and for the truth, you could tell she was happy than she ever was "Has France brought a new side to you?, Y/N" and of course, you laugh. "I guess there has been love in the air" Alice giggles but gasps when you practically threw yourself on top of her. "I feel young again darling and you are the cause of it" Alice has never heard such words fall from your mouth before but this is what she wished for. A happy family, a devoted husband, and beautiful and healthy children.

Laurent watches as a heavily pregnant Alice gasps and exclaims how the baby kicked which made you skid to your knees to feel what you two have made. "Oh, your one strong girl aren't you" Alice giggles as Laurent replays what you've said and he felt jealousy shoot through him. "You aren't part of the portrait Y/N now come here" Madame gestures to you to sit down "Fine, I love you" Alice's mood increases.

Laurent splat paint across your back once Alice and Madame left "Ooops" you turn around to meet him fully "Laurent I know you did it on purpose". Laurent scoffs and removes the now painted canvas so that it'll dry properly "Laurent talk to me".

"Talk to you, why should I...She's pregnant with your third child and you are making a mockery of me" you soften your gaze and made your way to him. "I know and I'm sorry, Alice is my wife and she means nothing to me" you hold both of his hands "You have a passion that I want to feel, hear, taste, and smell for you are my sun, Laurent". Laurent fell once again for your words "I feel young again darling and you are the cause of it" you spoke and remember all the words you've said to Alice just so you could repeat them to Laurent.

"Y/N and Laurents affair has been going on for a whole year before their fallout" a voice of a historian spoke on the screen for a bunch of high school students. "Y/N knew what he was doing was wrong but did he care, no he didn't, no one knew and he made sure of it. From the hidden letters to Laurents journal, they made sure nobody found out about their affair" the classroom of students listens.

"But Hunter L/N saw his father and Laurent one day in his father's study"

Hunter stood in the doorway and he saw both you and Laurent kissing "Hunter, I know you won't understand but if you keep this a secret I won't tell your mother that you spoiled your appetite". Hunter nods "Our little secret" Hunters looks at Laurent both running off "Don't worry he won't say anything" Laurent nods and reconnected your lips with his own once you closed the door.

Once little Peter and Polly was born you became distant for twins were a rare case and now you finally have a daughter. "Now look at you two, I already can't tell the difference" Alice giggles while Hunter and Nicolas stare with wonder in their eyes. "I can't believe Hunter going to be six soon while Nicola's fifth birthday is approaching fast" Alice says. "They're growing up what are you expecting" Alice buries her face into the side of your neck "I don't want them to grow up" you chuckle "Sorry darling they can't be your babies forever".

"Don't you love me?" Laurent says as you walk away from him and the swing that hangs from a tree. "Pardon?" the hill you both stood upon held more than your emotions "You said I made you feel young again and she was NOTHING!". you sigh as Laurent makes his way to you. "I said things and done things but they'll never change the fact I'm a father" Laurent felt sorrow and it spread like a disease.

"Good day Leclaire" Laurent wasn't just going to give up "NO!, I understand I'm not half of the man you want or need but I don't understand why you can't love me too!". "I don't apologize Leclaire and I can't love you the way you want me to" Laurent stops in his track.

"Can't"

[friendlyneighbourhood-parker]

A little note: I have the right to decline any request that I don’t feel comfortable or able to write! Please be polite while requesting (I won’t accept requests if your demanding or rude to me)

Thank you!

What I’m comfortable writing!

Female reader x male/female character

Nonbinary reader x male/female character

Poly couples!

Angst

Aus

Platonic couples

Smut (might take me longer to write)

Things I’m not comfortable with

Noncon/dubcon

Selfcest

Selfharm

p*dophilia/inc*st

____ I haven’t written for but I’m open to

Marvel

James “Bucky” Barnes

Yelena Belova

Kate Bishop

Wanda Maximoff

Layla el-faouly

Michelle Jones

Oscar Isaac

Blue Jones

Orestes

Laurent LeClair

Jonathan Levy

Specific Pairings

Peter Parker x Michelle Jones

Moonbois x Layla el-Faouly

Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff

Amy March x Theodore "Laurie"

disclaimer: I can add or delete any of the things on this list at any given time

[bits-and-babs]

𝐀 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 — 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐄

-> OCT. 09 : COCK WORSHIP

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. Dirty talk, teasing, oral (m receiving) era appropriate vocabulary.

WC: 1001

[Kinktober Masterlist] [Main Masterlist]

The sound of the brush strokes against the canvas that Laurent works on causes your hair to stand on end from your position on the chaise lounge. Your lover had insisted upon painting you, having wanted to since the moment you had met. Your persistent refusal had done little to discourage that desire, and a few days ago you had given up trying to deny his advances.

His blackened eyes peek over the frame of the canvas every few seconds, dragging down the length of your body. You swear you can almost feel his gaze, like he’s tracing across your side with the bristles of his beloved, worn paint brush. You had bought it for him on a trip to Bordeaux, months ago now, the handle made of ivory. He’d already had to change out the camel-hair bristles three times, taking it apart and putting it back together in a refusal to discard of it.

“Laurent,” you whisper softly, the tension between you too thick to ignore, like oil paints left far too long on a palette. His eyelids are heavy when his gaze moves to your visage, intense through his lashes.

“Yes?” He speaks, matching your volume. He knows what you’re like, knows your inclination to ease the atmosphere into that of an illicit nature. “What is it you need, my love?”

You can’t help but grin, knowing now that he’s willing to appease the need that had been building in you since he set his eyes on you from beyond the easel. You cast your eyes across him for a moment, considering how to approach this game of cat and mouse.

“Have you ever been the subject of a painting yourself?” You query, gently sinking your teeth into your lower lip. His head slowly rock sideways in a shake, a silent signal of no. “I believe you should, I feel it would be revolutionary.”

You can’t see the lower half of his face, but you see the outsides of his eyes crinkle in that telltale sign he’s grinning from ear to ear. “And why do you think that?” He asks you, and falls perfectly into your trap as he sets his palette down.

“Because you are beautiful,” you insist, “From your curls, to your nose. Your perfect lips…” He steps around the easel now, slowly approaching you with deliberate steps. The wooden floorboards creak beneath his shoes, and your heart leaps in anticipation.

“Perhaps it should be a nude piece,” you murmur, waiting until he’s stood just in front of you, “Then they could see how utterly perfect your cock is, Laurent.”

He laughs then, flashing white teeth. “Perfect? That’s certainly a choice word,” he murmurs, cupping your cheek in his hand. His gold signet ring is cold against your burning skin.

“It is perfect,” you insist, sitting up on the chaise lounge and using your fingers to slowly undo the strings holding his trousers together. His cock is standing at attention beneath the fabric already, and you can’t help but smile, “Perfect in that it always knows exactly when it’s needed. And it is so pretty.”

Laurent is silent as you work to push the material of his trousers from his hip, lips parted as he listens to you worship him, praise every inch of him. When his cock is exposed, you sigh softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the tip that has Laurent’s breath hitching slightly.

“You’re flushed so flawlessly, such a pretty pink colour,” you murmur, running your finger across the head of his dick as if to highlight exactly what you mean. It twitches slightly and you can’t help but grin, looking up at Laurent through your lashes.

“Such pretty veins too, darling. They’d look gorgeous in a painting, don’t you think?” He nods almost dumbly, taken in completely by your praise as you trace down the protruding veins in question. His jaw is slack, groaning weakly as you press a kiss to his frenulum, his knees almost buckling at the sensation.

“I think that it would be an even more compelling piece should you include how fetching it looks when you cum, and it slides down the length of you,” you whisper, Laurent’s fingers working their way into your hair for something to hold. His grip is tight, strained as you tease him. “I feel the contrast would be stunning in oil paint.”

“Hah-“ he exhaled heavily as your tongue traces him slowly, “Fuck, darling- you’re devilish tonight-“

“If devilish means praising you, my love, then I suppose I am,” you muse, and Laurent groans in response, tilting his head back. You hum softly, brushing your thumbs over his hip bones as you continue to tease him.

“I just feel you’re far too gorgeous not to share with the world, it would be utterly unjust and discriminatory,” your breath tickles his length and he moans out, grip tightening in your strands.

“But none of them looking at the painting will ever know just how good you make me feel, Laurent,” you think out loud, his eyes settling on your face again as his knuckles brush across your cheekbone.

“Is that right?” He murmurs, his voice throaty with his need.

“Mhmm-hmm,” you hum softly, resting the tip of his cock against your lips as you talk, “So I was considering the idea of a pair of paintings. One of your pretty, breathtaking cock, and another of me sat on it, face twisted in ecstasy and scratching scarlet lines down your abdomen to prove to everyone how much of an incredible lover you are, Laurent.”

He growls loudly now, having had enough of the teasing. He hooks his thumb into the front teeth of your lower jaw in order to open your mouth and slip his cock inside. You can taste precum already, and your eyes roll back.

“Let’s practice that ‘twisted expression of ecstasy’, shall we my love? That’s it, excellent start,” he murmurs huskily, slowly beginning to thrust into your throat.

END

@in-for-a-pennyx @hoeneey @howaboutcastiel @markywithissues @welcometostayingawake @inklore @foxilayde @syrma-sensei @ethanhoewke

[ninebluehearts]

Hello there, my darling Hannah. For the menu today, I would like some more Ghost!Laurent! Because my darling husband needs more loving and plus I'm sucker for ghost and reader stories. The last time we left off, Laurent is ready to made you his bride. He's obsessed with you and he can't wait any longer.

Part 1, part 2

I shall serve you my finest part three to our little series, my dearest Giona 💕

You hadn't seen Laurent in what seemed like forever, which was strange. He seemed to be everywhere before, but now there was nothing but radio silence. Though, that wasn't the only thing that was strange.

About a week after your last encounter with the ghost, it seemed like something was out to get you. It was small things at first; a black widow in your shoe, a lit candle falling into the pile of hay you were shoveling early in the morning, you tripping over seemingly nothing..

These could all be labeled as coincidental, some even clumsiness. But when you felt a pair of hands push you as you headed down a staircase, causing you to almost fall to your death, you knew something was up.

Later that night, you sat in bed, waiting. And when the familiar feeling of being watched crept over you, you knew he was there. "You can show yourself. I'm not mad." You said as you closed your book and set it on your nightstand, before looking around the room. "Just curious."

"About?" Laurent said, suddenly appearing on the bed right in front of you.

You gasped, slightly flinching away from him. You watched a smile creep onto his lips, a playful glint in his eyes. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"But you meant to when you tried to kill me earlier?" You quipped, sitting up straight.

Laurent's smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered. "Maybe.. Who's asking?" He asked with a chuckle that sent butterflies swarming throughout your belly.

"I am. I thought you loved me? Why would you want me dead?" Though your breath trembled, you maintained your best neutral expression.

"Because I do love you." He said as though it was obvious.

"I don't want to play this game, Laurent." You crawled over and sat right next to him, looking into his eyes through your eyelashes. "I wanna know what's going on."

Even though he was a ghost, Laurent shuddered, staring at your lips like they were his favorite meal; and he was absolutely starving. "Because I need you, mon chérie. I cannot wait any longer."

You nodded, reaching out to touch his hand, but you found that it only moved through him. "And you need me to die for that to happen." You whispered, your entire body shaking under his gazed.

"Yes." Laurent mumbled, never taking his eyes off of you.

You took in a deep, shaky breath as you though about the weight of the situation. Were you ready to die for a man you barely knew? A dead one, at that. "You could always loose interest.." You stood up and walked over to the window, looking out at the almost full moon.

"Never." Laurent whispered against your neck, a cold breeze following.

You turned around and looked at him, really looked at him. You couldn't tell if he was lying or not, or even if he knew himself. But with the way he looked at you in this moment, his soft brown eyes filled with pure adoration, you were willing to do anything if it meant you could kiss those sweet, soft lips of his.

"Would it be crazy if I said I wanted to do it?" You said, unable to tear your eyes away from his.

Laurent grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, which felt more like a cool breeze once again. "No. You'd finally be mine, mon chérie. I'm looking forward to it." He said as he slowly disappeared.

[boredzillenial]

Writing Masterlist

🥰 : fluff , 🥵: NSFW

🌙 MoonKnight Bingo🌙

🎃 Fawktober 2023 🦇

Series: all 🥵

A Gift Horse and His Mouth: Doctor Strange x afab!reader (Word count: 3k)

You came to Kamar-taj for help with your mental health. Little did you know your dreams would work against you and make things a lot more complicated.

Yes Sir: Part II to "A Gift Horse and His Mouth" (Word count: 2.8k)

Dealing with the aftermath of your dream Stephen has an idea on how to work through some issues.

Attitude Adjustment: William Tell x afab!reader (Word Count: 3k)

A friend of your fathers pays you an unexpected visit you aren’t likely to forget.

One-shots:

🥵Bad Bet: William Tell x F!reader (Word count: 2.6K)

William beats you in a poker tournament, but you just can’t accept defeat, not yet…

🥵 Sweet Relief: Laurent LeClair X F!reader (Word Count: 1.1K)

Laurent finds you during a difficult time of the month, he wants to help you feel better.

🥵 Stronger Than I Look: Steven Grant X curvy f!reader (Word Count: 2k)

You and your coworker Steven are doing inventory late at night. Being a bigger girl you hadn’t worked up the courage to make a move. But an artifact hidden amongst the trinkets in stock changes things.

🥵 A Simple Arrangement: Jonathan Levy X f!reader (Word count: 1.3k)

Jonathan wakes you in the night for some much needed relief.

🥰 That Damn Smile: Matt Murdock fluff x afab!reader (Word Count: 1.6k)

You’re new to Hells Kitchen and there’s a stranger who’s caught your eye, but you’re not sure if you’ve caught his.

🥰Giftshop Steven: Steven Grant with gn!reader (Word count: 1.4k)

Steven comes to your rescue in the crowded museum.

🥵Caught: Marc Spector x afab!reader (Word Count: 1k)

You get bored while housesitting for Marc and are caught in a rather compromised position.

Drabbles/Thots/Ficlets:

🥰 Drunken Confession: GN!reader X Miguel O’Hara (Word Count: 517)

You snoop around Miguel's office and confess to the "empty" room.

🥵Blue Jones Thots: just some HC and a quick drabble on this very unstable man. gn!reader (WC on drabble: 552)

What I will and won’t write

Messy masterlist for Kinktober 2023 here

[ophelialoveshandsomemen]

A december writing challenge that I will try. If you want to send me one of Oscar Isaac’s characters and a day to write for, go ahead! If I don’t get any prompts, I will be writing my own choices. Ask me if you wanna be tagged!

Female reader or GN reader only please!

I’m more comfortable with female reader, but I can easily write gender neutral. Male reader, however, I am NOT comfortable writing for too many reasons to state here.

Just a warning, I’m not big on cities, so this will feature mainly rural/country settings.

Warning. There may be religious themes in some of these, which I will tag accordingly.

** indicates smut, both light and heavy.

Day 1 - Baking || Vanilla, sprinkles, and chocolate flavored kisses. (Richard Alonso Munoz x fem!reader)

Day 2 - Frozen Lake || Cold hands, Scarves, and Snow.(Duke Leto Atreides x fiancée!fem!reader) **

Day 3 - Hot Chocolate || Marshmallows, warm hands, and soft smiles.(Abel Morales x fem!reader)**

Day 4 - Cozy Cabin || Patterned rugs, soft blankets, and warm baths.( Santiago Garcia x wife!fem!reader)

Day 5 - Fire Places || Fuzzy socks, soft rugs, and hands intertwined.(Pt.2! Duke Leto Atreides x fiancée!fem!reader .sequel to You’re handsome with snowflakes in your beard.)

Day 6 - Blanket Fort || Fluffy pillows, movies, and snacks(Modern!Poe Dameron x pregnant!fem!wife!reader)

Day 7 - Catching a cold  || Tissues, savory soup, and cuddles.(Llewyn Davis x fem!reader)

Day 8 - Snowed In || Candles, snow drifts, and quiet.(Mikael Boghosian x fem!reader)

Day 9 - Sledding || biting wind, cold noses, and laughter(Laurent Leclaire x fem!reader. Canon era.)

Day 10  - Winter Market || Murmuring crowds, rows of stalls, and the smell of food.(Blue Jones x gn!reader)

Day 11 - Snowball Fight || Heavy breathing, footprints in the snow, and warm hugs.( Richard Alonso Munoz x fem!reader. Part 2! sequel to Kisses of Chocolate.)

Day 12 - Lonely  || Gloomy skies, soft blankets, and a warm fire. ( William Tell x fem!reader)

Day 13 - Warm Bath || Bubble bath, soft music, and gentle hands. (Richard Alonso Munoz x fem!reader. Part 3! )

Day 14 - Homemade Meal/Cooking || Savory spices, hot meals, and family. (Mikael Boghosian x wife!reader)

Day 15 - Sleigh Ride || Sleigh bells, foggy breath, and the smell of cedar.(Nathan Bateman x fem!reader)

Day 16 - Mistletoe || Warm lights, smoke, and friends.(Jonathan Levy x fem!reader)

Day 17 - Gingerbread || Icing on their cheek, smell of cinnamon, and playful kisses.

Day 18 - Sunsets || Golden hour, towering pine trees, and warm coats.

Day 19 - Movie Nights || Laughter, snacks, and cuddles. (Nathan Bateman x fem!reader.)

Day 20 - Hiking || Rough ground, crisp morning air, and sunrises.

Day 21 - Sweaters || Cozy feelings, goosebumps, and comforting hands.

Day 22 - Unique Traditions || Smiles, acceptance, and making memories.

Day 23 - Proposal || Nerves, candles, and a tasty meal.

Day 24 - Holiday Traffic || Car horns, comforting words, and snow.

Day 25 - Lazy Mornings || Soft blankets, familiar arms, and the morning light.

Day 26 -Furry Friends || Shining eyes, the pitter - patter of paws, and that fuzzy feeling in your chest.

Day 27 - Roasting Marshmallows || Roaring bonfires, laughter of friends, and gooey marshmallows.

Day 28 - Huddle for Warmth || Warm bodies, steady breaths, and comforting feelings.

Day 29 - Holiday Lights || Holiday music, bright colors, and joy.

Day 30 - Fireworks || Loud booms, sparkling light, and a breathtaking kiss.

Day 31 - Wild Card || write anything you want!(Victoriano ‘El Catorce’ Ramirez x fem!reader)

[ofstarsandvibranium]

My You-niverse: Laurent LeClaire

Fandom: Oscar Isaac

Pairing: Laurent LeClaire x F!Reader

Summary: You and America get stuck portal jumping until you reach your universe again. In the meantime, you meet various versions of your husband.

Series Masterlist

The man, face similar to your husband's, thick, brown wavy locks, looks at you with concerned brown eyes.

You look down to see yourself now downing some...really old looking clothing. 19th century, perhaps? Since when did America's powers now come with a wardrobe change?

"Mademoiselle, are you alright?" he lends out a hand towards you.

You reach for his hand and wince. You look down to see a dark red stain on your sleeve.

America rushed to your side, also wearing a 19th century dress. She presses a hand to your arm and you wince. She then looks up at your husband's doppleganger, "She needs help!"

The man immediately rushes to help you stand, an arm wrapping around you to hold you up, "We must move, quickly."

You nod, trying to keep up with his hurried pace, "What are your names?"

"America," your young friend answers, "and this is Y/N."

"A beautiful name for a beautiful woman."

You can't help but scoff, "Are you this charming to every woman?"

"Only the ones that come falling out of nowhere from a strange light," he peers at you with a smirk.

America hurries her pace, "Yeah, we'd appreciate it if you actually don't tell anyone about that?"

"Are you witches of some sort? Devil worshippers?" he gives a scrutinizing gaze to America.

You grunt an answer, "No. We don't know what happened. One moment, some men were chasing us, the next we're here. We're just as confused as you are." you give a look to America, letting her know that that's the story you two are going with.

She nods, "That's right."

The man appears a bit unconvinced, but says, "Alright."

"You know our names, what's yours?" you ask and the man leads you to a village.

"Laurent. Laurent LeClaire."

"And what do you do Laurent?"

"I'm a painter." You can't help but scoff at his answer and he cocks a brow at you, "Something amusing?"

You shake your head, "You just remind me of someone."

"Your husband?" Laurent asks. You open your mouth to question him but he gestures to your hand, "Your wedding ring."

You don't say anything else. The three of you remain in silence until you're led into a small hospital. They allow America to go with you, but Laurent stays behind.

"Thank you for your help, Laurent."

He gives a silent nod to you and then America before you're ushered back to get your arm looked at.

______________

After a nurse cleans and wraps up your arm, you're left alone with America.

She's awkwardly rocking in the bed beside yours, "Soooo...do you think we're just going to keep running into Marc's dopplegangers?"

You snort, "I'm not the one with portal powers. Also, since when did your powers come with wardrobe changes?"

The young Avenger held up her hands, "Hey, I'm just as surprised as you are. That's never happened before." then she gasped, "Do you think I'll eventually be able do those badass costume like Thor?!"

You snort, "Guess you'll have to keep training and see."

The doctor, an old man, approached you two, "Alright, mademoiselle," he says looking at you, "as long as you keep your wound clean and change the bandages every few hours, you should be well on your way to complete health."

"Thank you, doctor," you say to the old man, standing and giving him a grateful smile. You then nod to America to follow you and you two are exiting the building.

"Y/N!" you hear a call of your name and see Laurent walking towards you.

You look at him with surprise, "Laurent! You're still here?"

He softly smiles and you see the look your husband would give you when it was just the two of you, "Yes, I just wanted to make sure everything went well."

"She'll recover," America intrudes, "She's strong so.."

"That's good to hear." he responds. The two of you continue to look at each other, leaving your young companion feeling a bit awkward.

"Sooooo I think we should go now, Y/N."

You take a step back from Laurent, "Of course. We need to find our way back home." You go to turn, but a hand catches your arm.

"It's getting dark," Laurent says, pointing to the sky, "Two ladies such as yourselves shouldn't be wandering. Who knows, you might run into the men who attacked you again. You need rest."

You shake your head, "We don't-"

"You can stay the night at my home." Laurent offers a solution with a smile, "I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you two. The inns are dodgy and can be unsafe."

"I suppose we can rest for the night...?" you reply with also a questioning gaze to America. She gives you a look as if what you're saying is the most ridiculous thing in the world. The look you give back to her silently asks, 'What choice do we have?'. She sighs and then you look back to Laurent with a smile, "We'll take you up on that offer, Laurent, thank you."

"Wonderful," he holds out his arms to you and America, "Shall we?"

He leads you to his small home a short distance away from the main streets of the village.

At his home, Laurent treats you and America to a small meal. Nothing fancy, but just something to fill your bellies enough to be satisfied. He then led you and America to his bedroom where you two will be sharing a bed.

You look at him with concern, "Where will you sleep?"

"Don't worry about me. I will make do."

"Laurent-"

"Sssshhh," he presses a finger to your lips and your breathing stills. He's close. His skin touching yours. Your body suddenly feels on fire. You see your husband, your Marc. You see his eyes, the intensity and playfulness, the mischief, the...slimmer of darkness.

With a gulp, he steps back and nods to America and then you, "Goodnight, ladies." He promptly leaves the room and you don't take a breath until the door shuts.

America plops onto the mattress, "Not gonna lie, that was a little uncomfortable to watch."

You roll your eyes, "Let's just go to bed."

Eventually, you and America are laying beside each other. America is out like a light, but you...you're still awake. Your thoughts mull over the recent events. Marc, the whole Blue Jones thing, and now Laurent. You knew, from what America's told you, that various universes exist. This means there are different versions of you, America, and Marc.

As you and America try to get back home, would you be encountering a different version of Marc every time?

These thoughts plague you, the endless possibilities, the desire to see your husband, hoping to get back home soon.

You've become restless. You're tossing and turning in the bed that smells like Marc's doppleganger. His face, the way he looked at you, plagues your mind.

Eventually, you're out of bed and stepping out of the room with a sheet wrapped around you.

You make your way to the living room where you see Laurent is still up. He's standing by the fire, painting on an easel.

He looks up and sees you, "You're still awake."

"So are you," you point out, holding the sheet tight against you for warmth.

"What ails you?" he asks as he continues to paint.

"It's been a very eventful day and I can't seem to ease my mind."

"We share the same ailments I see." he's concentrated on his task at hand. So much so that his brows are furrowed and you're reminded of Marc again. You sigh and begin to fiddle with your ring.

"Tell me about him," Laurent speaks again. When you look up, he clarifies, "Your husband. Tell me about him."

You set yourself on a cushion beside the fireplace. You stare at the dancing orange and yellow hues, "His name is Marc. He's...stubborn, a little selfish, but also brave and caring. He's brash, but also gentle. He's funny and annoying. When he upsets me, he always goes out and comes home with my favorite flowers and sweets. He's the love of my life." You then turn to look up at Laurent, "Do you have someone?"

He shakes his head, "No. Many say I'm married to my paintbrush though. I spend so much time with it."

You smile up at him, "I'm sure you'll find that person you're meant to be with."

He hums in response and you don't necessarily know if it's in agreement or not.

You move off the cushion you were sitting on, now using it to rest your head on as you lay on your side. You continue watching the fireplace until your eyes flutter close.

...

"Wake up, sweetheart."

You groan and your eyes open. Your vision still blurry but you see a figure standing over you.

"Wake up, honey, come on."

"Marc?" you rasp out and rub the sleep away from your eyes.

As your vision clears, you see another version of Marc standing there. However, he's bald and is donning glasses and a thick beard.

He cocks a brow at you, "Who the fuck is Marc?"

You sit up and realize you're sitting at a desk. A paper sticks to your cheek and you pull it away. You skim through it and see "Nathan Bateman" and "Blue Book".

"Nathan-"

"Listen, sweetheart, I don't pay you to sleep all day. You were supposed to transcribe these for me and because you fell asleep, it's setting me back by a day. Wake the fuck up."

You watch as Nathan waltzes out of the room and you're left shocked and jaw to the floor. This universe's version of your husband is a fucking dick!

[justafandomgvrl]

Tattoo Artist Pt2

Laurent Leclaire x F!Reader

Around 1000 words

Part one here

Thank you to @winniethewife for some aid with dialogue

You pace in your flat nervously an hour before you’re supposed to meet Laurent. You stop in front of your mirror for the eighteenth time to stare at your outfit. Jeans, band tee, leather jacket, vans. You look at your phone and curse, realising if you don’t leave now you’ll be late. One last application of lip balm and your feet carry you out the door to your favourite coffee shop. Laurent waves you over to his booth and you smile, the nerves dissipating almost immediately.

You slide into the booth across from him.

“I’m glad you messaged me.” His warm voice consumes you. “I took a chance on that business card, and I’m -“

“I know.” You say with a small smile as the waitress comes and refills his coffee pot. He thanks her before returning his attention to you. “I’m glad I did too.” You say, his eyes gazing into yours and you feel so much more alive than you did twenty minutes ago in your flat. He picks up the coffee pot and pours you a cup. You add a splash of milk and a sugar cube, watching him as he supplied his black coffee without sugar.

“Oh, you like it as sweet as you are.” He says with a cheeky smile.

The date goes better than you expected. You laugh together, drinking way more cups of coffee than you should. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so light.

Within a month, you and Laurent have been for five different coffees in five different shops after five tattoos. Each one has been more and more discounted, much to Camilo’s annoyance. The one constant is Laurent never lets you pay for the coffee.

He smiles at you over your sixth cup in your sixth shop after your sixth tattoo. His hand is wrapped around yours and you feel warmth spreading from where he’s touching your skin.

“Why don’t you ever let me pay?” You ask and he chuckles.

“How could I ever let someone as beautiful as you pay? Pieces of art don’t pay for anything.” He says and you blush. It’s the same every time he compliments you.

“I’m only a piece of art because of your drawings.” You say quickly. He chuckles, shaking his head.

“No. The first moment I saw you sat there nervously waiting, I knew you were the most beautiful piece of art I’d ever seen. And now? You’re somehow even more beautiful.” He says, his thumb brushing your knuckles. You look up at him and he smiles in a way you’ve grown to adore.

“This past month has been so wonderful, Laurent,” you say and his smile widens.

“I agree. That’s why I wanted to ask you something.” You pause, putting your cup down and he takes your hands both into his own. “I know it’s only been a month, but I really adore you. You’re kind, and smart, and funny, and so beautiful. I was wondering if you would want to officially be my girl.” You pause for a moment, processing his words.

“Yes.” You whisper. He grins and surges toward you, leaning over the table to capture your lips with his own. “Your girl.” You whisper against his lips and he all but groans. You wonder what it would be like to hear- you cut off your thoughts as you kiss him back gently. You can feel him smiling against your lips before you break the kiss.

“My girl.” He repeats, as though he’s savouring the way the words taste in his mouth. He grins like a boy who just discovered how it feels to get dirty for the first time. “Shall we?” He asks, standing up and offering you his arm, having paid already despite your protests. You loop your arm through his and the two of you leave the cafe, wandering through the streets of Paris as though it was your city.

You find your way to Montmartre, the village that his tattoo shop is set up in. You sigh as you arrive at the Sacre-Coeur, the church of sacred heart. “I love the view from up here,” you say as you look down the steps that you had climbed to look over the village.

Laurent is staring at you when he replies, “me too.” He shakes his head, clearing his thoughts as he turns to gaze over the village. You look at him and smile, gazing at his side profile. “I used to want to be a painter.” Laurent says absent-mindedly. You turn back to gaze at the village as the two of you sit down at the top of the stairs.

“What stopped you?”

“Not as many hot women.” He jokes and you chuckle, tucking your hair behind your ears. “Being a tattooist meant I could paint and be social with a bunch of people and find out about their lives. I like that.” He says with a smile.

You place your hand on the ground between you as the sun begins to set.

He rests his hand on yours.

“Do you know what the French would say about a view like this?” You ask and he looks at you with an eyebrow raised.

“What?”

“I was asking you!” You reply, nudging his shoulder with yours. He chuckles, shaking his head.

“They would say it’s beautiful, but not as beautiful as you.” You blush and he smiles.

In the pink, orange and purple hues of the sunset, your eyes almost seem to have an otherworldly glow. Laurent knows he’ll never recover from the sight.