autumnrory · 1 year ago
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love trying on a bunch of different things and still not being happy with any of it
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celtrist · 16 days ago
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I really want to see a more fucked up version of Charlie in canon. Like, okay, I am a die-hard for sweet bubbly girls in media. But I always see how some people make Charlie actually, oh I dunno... demonic? And it's so refreshing for her type of character. I could honestly see her having low empathy (and we kinda see this with how she handled Angel's situation or even Vaggie's nervousness about taking control on an activity). An exploration of that trait (if it was intended) would be interesting to see for a protagonist, especially when her main goal is about helping others. I would love to see her actually have a level of difficulty in understanding others' feelings from the other residents, sinners, and even her father.
But give her a fucked up side. Not a "she gets more power when she's angey uwu", but a "oh, she's a little fucked in the head". It would give so much to her character that she just doesn't have.
@/murmurmurena (don't wanna bother them so slash there we go) has some fun ideas with Charlie. I highly encourage people to check their stuff out! So many fun dark ideas with her character while also still keeping to her canon personality pretty well! Personally, I think Charlie being a bit more naive to her own messed up traits would work best but her also being aware of these traits can make for some interesting character for her.
THIS FIC, "A Game Between You and I". RIGHT HERE WITH THE FIRST CHAPTER. A bit of spoil for the fic here: but I love how they handled Charlie’s absolute ignorance as to why the idea of Russian roulette is horrifying to Angel Dust. It doesn't feel like her being intentionally malicious or aware that she's the odd man out here. This is also a pretty old fic going by only the pilot, but the point still stands that it was such a fun take for her character!
Charlie is one of my favorite characters in the show in part of the POTENTIAL she could have as being the most bubbly sweetheart character while also being the most messed up character in the show. I can't say I have strong confidence with the show's writing and fully expect them to stick with Charlie being the "nice girl but oh no, don't get her angry or she gets scarwy". Which isn't bad for a character mind you, there's just so much more potential to Charlie outside of that trope, especially when you get into the theories of her either being a doll, Roo's biological daughter, or what have you. And for the MAIN CHARACTER of the show, it would be not only interesting but also bring the spotlight back to her.
There's really no question that the side characters steal the show, particularly all the male characters. If I'm honest, Charlie does not feel like she gets a lot of love from the show itself when she's supposed to be the main character. She feels far more flat compared to the rest of the characters (again, the male cast in this "female-lead" show has more depth than most of the female cast currently. I wouldn't be pointing this tidbit concerning the genders of characters if it weren't for the fact Viv defended Helluva's lack of development with their female cast by saying "Hazbin is a female-lead show and Helluva is a male-lead" and Hazbin ended up with it not feeling female lead (to me) and the male cast just completely stealing the show. I don't normally care about gender stuff, especially since I do personally lean interest towards male characters. But using one show as a defense for poor development of the female characters, and then that show not really holding up with no very interesting well-developed feeling female characters irritates me. It's just very clear that these shows don't seem to care much about the female cast :/)
If you like how Charlie is written that's totally fine. PERSONALLY, I just think they're missing so much opportunity with her character by just making her the standard female character type. I honestly don't have a lot of faith they'll actually do something with Charlie's character though. She's a pretty static character in S1 being the same from start to end. Not changing or learning anything to create any development. What does the end of season Charlie do that start of season Charlie wouldn't do? Fight back? Because we see with the pilot (which is the “first episode”) that Charlie does fight people if pushed like with Katie Killjoy and even Valentino. Static characters can work in media depending on the show or their role. But Charlie is the MC of a show about “bettering one's self”. So to have her as a static with not a lot of strong dilemmas for herself (like we see with Angel Husk Al and even Vox) seems silly. Plus, considering Hazbin is telling a whole story and it's not a fun episodic thing, characters are expected to grow on some level. Or else, what was the point of their hero's journey?
#I honestly have a lot of problems with Hazbin's storytelling#That the limited time of doing plot doesn't even help it and shouldn't be used to shield the show from criticisms#Especially when you can find the same issues in Helluva Boss that has no excuse with the writing (though it's getting a bit better)#I love this show but goodness gracious it makes me have a tangent about it#Charlie's unimpactful character writing just being one of MANY issues#Hopefully the crew take all the criticisms into account for S3#S2 if possible would be nice but they probably had it all scripted by the time S1 was airing.#No shame on the female cast either they're fine. But when you compare them to the given depth of characters like Angel Husk Alastor and Vox#They're pretty lackluster. Vaggie's probably the closest to a female character with a lot of layers we've seen in the show#And she wasn't done very well with being essentially just “Charlie's GF” with not much identity outside of that explored much#Some of this may be more personal takes but it's frustrating. Again I don't normally care about gender stuff in media#It was just the excuse to Millie and Loona lacking development that bothers me#Like Hazbin is supposed to make up Helluva's poor writing of their main female leads#Loona got a bit of love with the Bee ep and Verosika and Octavia are pretty good. Particularly V with her relationship with Blitz#Whenever I start talking about aspects of Hazbin's writing I always end up ranting a bit (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄#Celtrist#cel rambles#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel charlie#charlie morningstar#hazbin critique#hazbin criticism#hazbin critical#hazbin hotel critical#hazbin hotel criticism#hazbin hotel critique#hazbin hotel rant#You can really love something and still be critical with it#I do it out of love I swear#You're not in the Sonic fandom for like 22 yrs and don't learn to be critical of the media you enjoy lol
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gothoffspring · 1 year ago
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this game literally sucks so much though :<
like i was just trying to have my sims go out on a date and get some pics and it was almost IMPOSSIBLE to get them to sit at the same time and i have free will off!!!! they kept standing up randomly like, stop!!! and sims always got in the mf way when i was trying to take photos. and i got no good pictures and it UPSETS me :///////
idk how gameplay girlies do it because honestly getting photos from just regular gameplay interactions is so hard. but im not gonna pose my sims for every single legacy post its just not happening lmao
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merps · 1 year ago
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you know, as someone who follows p good security practices and my partner loves security so much he doing a masters kinda for funsies/pure interest, I wish I did get involved in data breaches so much and be stuck with identity monitoring for forever, bc of things out of my hands like a major company phone provider or my employer (a major international company and with a 3rd party service they had some files on that **I** didn't use)
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leadendeath · 5 months ago
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are anyone else’s drafts just disappearing into hell or is it just me
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kokolattx · 1 year ago
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i am rabid i am frothing at the mouth, college is ending me but the semester is almost over!! the moment it ends im going to draw so much my hands will fall out!! also v happy here :] good vibes despite all the fictional murder going around
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yoditopascal · 3 months ago
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Sweetest Pie
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summary: The Worst Logan isn’t so bad after all. (logan/wolverine x fem black reader)
content warning: Wade is your best friend that’s a warning all on its own, some angst (like literally the tiniest bit) cussing, mutual pining, making out, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, dirty talking? (I’m so bad at writing it lmaoo), creampie, actual pie, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it fellas), dacryphilia, post DP&W, breaking the bed, scent kink, overstimulation, he technically sniffs your underwear??, Deadpool being Deadpool, MINORS DNI
a/n: The Sweetest Pie by Megan the Stallion is playing in the background while y’all fuck, that’s all.
tag list: @allmyn1ghts @figsnpassionfruits @dragonqueen89 @shebby-the-webby
Ducking down out of the way, Wade just barely makes it out of the line of fire as a glass mug hits the wall behind him, shattering on impact.
“You wanna run that by me again bub?”
“That was my favorite mug!”
“Repeat what you fucking said!” He snarls, hand balled into tight fists, it’s taking everything in his power not to maul the idiot with his claws….again
“All I said was you're more pent up than a nun doing squats in a cucumber field!” Wade said looking back at the wall, there was already a dent forming, one of many that had been popping up since the older mutant had decided to move in with him.
It's been 3 months since Logan started living with Wade and Blind Al and he’s about fucking had it. Laura had moved out after the first month, needing her own space, but she still frequently visited, he honestly was tempted to join her but figured she wouldn’t want her old man around all the time cramping her style.
Logan could feel a headache coming on as he pinched the bridge of his nose as Wade spoke again.
“You, my little honey badger, are lacking in the hanky panky department and no amount of self loving in the bathroom mirror at midnight is gonna fix that.”
“What the fuck does that even mean?” He asked, sometimes he felt like instead of forming actual sentences Wade just put a bunch of random shit together so he could hear himself speak.
“Oh my gooood you’re so old, I’m talking about sex grandpa, you know, fucking? The horizontal hula? Bumping uglies? Filling the cream donut?”
“Stop.” Logan said with a look of disgust.
“I can smell your sexual frustration from here.” Wade groaned. “You need to spend a little less time brooding around the house like you're a DC character, and maybe spend a little more time doing hot yoga.” He was as he holds up a finger and boops Logan on the nose.
Logan swats his hand away but Wade continues paying no mind to his attitude as he points toward the front door.
“It just so happens that I know a great friend o’ mine who’d have absolutely no problems taming the beast for you bub and oh look at that, she happens to live right across the hall.” He said with a wink
“Don’t bring her into this.” Logan said, waving him off as he went to sit on the couch. Unfortunately Wade knew exactly how he felt about you, having figured it out during their whole ordeal with his variants, Paradox and Cassandra and the bastard had yet to let him live it down.
“Come on Wolvie you can cut the sexual tension you two have with a knife, it’s so thick!” He groans again, throwing himself on the couch beside him dramatically. “It might even be thicker than ours!” Wade said as he leans on Logan’s shoulder fluttering his scarred eyes at him. He shrugs him off, turning the tv on hoping the sound of whatever was on would drown him out but Wade just kept going.
“Stop being a pussy and talk to her!”
“Oh like how you talked to Vanessa?” He snapped back, his anger reaching its limit.
“First of all, we’re a working progress right now and second of all, ouch! Who hurt you?”
Growing tired of Wade and his endless jabbering Logan stood going to grab his jacket from the closet so he could leave.
“Where are you huffing and puffing off too big bad wolf?”
“Anywhere but here.” He said slamming the door shut behind him.
After a few drinks at Sister Margaret's and time to cool his head, Logan returns home to get some chores out of the way. He was far over due to wash his stuff and his hero costume was really starting to fuck with his nose, so, shoving a few handfuls of quarters from Al’s disco dust fund jar into his pockets,he loaded up his hamper and heads down to the laundry room in the basement.
Upon entering he almost immediately bumps into you. You were kicking the dryer when he found you, pissed because it ate your quarters, not paying attention to your surroundings at all.
Digging around in his pockets he bumps his shoulder to yours to get your attention. Startled you nearly jumped out of your skin as he held a hand up in surrender, not meaning to scare you.
“Sorry, just thought I’d offer up some of mine.” He said, pulling a handful of change from his back pocket.
“Oh. that’s ok, I’m-” you start but are stopped when he grabs your hands with one of his and unceremoniously dumps the change into your palms.
“I wasn’t suggesting, take 'em I got more than enough.”
With a silent nod you thank him as he shrugs you off with a “Don’t mention it.”
Logan starts to load up his laundry into the washer next to yours, watching you out of the corner of his eye as you toss your wet clothes into the dryer. You don’t notice as a piece of yellow fabric falls to the floor between you, Logan turns his head to say something, at first not realizing what it was, until it dawns on him that, holy shit, it's a pair of your underwear…and they had Wolverine on them.
They were boxer briefs, nothing inherently sexy about them, but the scent they gave off, clean laundry soap mixed with the smell of your core had Logan reeling.
A small smirk crawled across his face as he started to imagine you wearing them around your house, nothing else adorning your body except for an oversized tee shirt that looked eerily like one of his own, he thought it was cute. Turning his head back to finish his task he kept loading his clothes not showing interest in the underwear to keep from making things awkward. One thing he couldn't deny was your scent. The scent of your core that lingered on the fabric was making his head swim, it was utterly intoxicating, this definitely didn't help with growing his frustration.
After he loaded the washer he pulled a flask from his pocket taking a shot of liquor inside to compose himself as he realized you still hadn’t noticed you dropped them. “You uh dropped something sweetheart.” he nodded towards them. Horrified, you snatch them up and throw them in the dryer.
“Oh god I-I’m sorry! I-“ you start to stutter, at a complete loss for words you slam the dryer lid close and grab your basket ready to leave and hide away in your apartment for the rest of your life until Logan stops you with a strong hand that engulfs your wrist.
“No I-uh I get it. He was your hero right?”
“Yeah he was… but so are you!” You started but quickly press a fist to your forehead in frustration.
“Sorry I don’t want you to feel like you're obligated to live up to him or anything, you’re your own person! I just-“ you were interrupted by Logan closing the distance between you. In your frustration a few of your locs had slipped from your ponytail and were hanging in your face. Logan reached towards you moving one from your face tucking it behind your ear, his bright hazel eyes scanning you carefully taking in your features with a smirk.
“You don’t have to explain yourself.” He said, your scent was sending his sensing into overdrive, he could smell your sweat mixed with the soap you used with the spicy aroma of your arousal starting to peek through.
You look down to the ground still slightly embarrassed but mostly warm from the close proximity before you feel a finger lift your chin causing your gaze to meet Logan’s once more. “S-sorry I ramble when I’m nervous.” It came out almost as a whisper, causing Logan to chuckle. It was an annoying habit you had picked up from your best friend Wade over the years he noticed. The intensity of his stare was starting to send your stomach into knots but not in a bad way.
The sound of the laundry room door opening and closing as another tenant enters quickly separates them. Silently the pair looked away from each other as the tenant loaded up his belongings in the open washer. He quickly spared a passing glance between the two of you who awkwardly tried to stare at anything but each other before shrugging his shoulders and leaving.
An awkward silence blanket over the two of you as you shuffle your feet before you scooped up your basket again.
“Listen Logan-“
“Darlin I-“
You both started at the same time. A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest causing your cheeks to feel warm. You smiled down at your feet and tucked another stray loc behind your ear before Logan spoke again.
“You first.”
“I was just gonna ask, did you maybe wanna come over for dinner tonight?”
Logan thought of a million different reasons why he shouldn’t. As if you could see the hesitation across his face you spoke up again.
“Before you say no, I got booze. Something a bit stronger than what I normally drink but it’s right up your alley. It was a gift from Wade.”
Of course it was from Wade.
“I’m also making pie.”
Well shit.
He let out a small sigh, looking down at your big pleading doe eyes before he shrugged; “Sure,why not.” Afterall how could he say no to you when you looked like that?
He could almost imagine Wade fist pumping the air in excitement at the aspect of the two spending alone time together, the blubbering idiot.
You flashed Logan another bright smile before heading to leave, you paused in the doorway for millisecond, before asking “See you at 7?”
“It’s a date doll.”
Seven o’clock rolled around much too quickly for either of them. Logan was busy fussing with his hair in the mirror trying to get the tufts of hair that usually stick up to lay down when Wade walked into the bathroom unceremoniously.
“Don’t you look positively ravishing tonight, got a hot date peanut?”
“Fuck off.” He growls, giving up with his hair and going to throw on a flannel over his wife beater.
“Wait, you do! Holy dick cheese Batman it’s finally happening!” Wade squealed excitedly
“What the hell are you even doing in here?” Logan asked in the doorway of the bathroom observing Wade, he was dressed in a tee shirt and a pair of hello kitty pajama pants and slippers, Logan rolled his eyes before heading to the kitchen to grab a beer.
“Had to take a shit, thanks for asking, but don’t change the subject!” Wade said following him into the kitchen “Who’s the lucky gal?” He asked leaning on the island, his head propped dreamily on his fist. “Or guy we don’t judge here. Wait wait wait! It's not who I think it is, is it?”
Logan didn’t say anything as he guzzled down his drink pre-gaming for the night, turning to grab another from the fridge before plopping down on the couch behind him.
At his silence Wade kicked his feet and clapped his hands excitedly, swinging around in his seat to look at Logan. Mary Puppins barked from her spot on the couch beside him.
“Fuck the Bachelorette and Love Island! The producers are going to make a killing outta this!” He paced excitedly flopping down beside him struggling to keep his composure. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this?! We are gonna make millions, no fuck that billions off your sex tape alone! I mean you two love birds are going to blossom in internal passion as the stars align with the future of the virgin Mary!” He said hugging Logan from the side.
Confused as fuck he shrugs Wade off him with a frown as he stands to his feet looking at his roommate with a raised brow. Downing the last of his beer he puts the empty bottle on the counter and heads for the door not wanting to be late.
“Oooh don’t forget to wear a condom, peanut! Remember wrap it before you tap it, before you attack her wrap your whacker! And if you’re not gonna sack it, come home and-!“
Logan slams the door shut before Wade could finish anymore of his bullshit.
He raised his hand to knock at your door but hesitated for a moment. Memories of the you from his timeline flooded his brain for a brief moment and he lowered his hand. He had really fucked you over royally in his own timeline and then you had died before he had a chance to fix that. Was he even worth your time in this one?
He shook the thoughts from his head and squared his shoulders, this was his second chance, a chance to fix all the shit he messed up before and he’d be damned if he was gonna waste this opportunity.
Just as he raised his hand to knock again you tore the door open with wide eyes.
“Logan hi!”
“Hey- you ok kid? You look outta breathe.” He questioned looking you up and down in concern while also unabashedly checking you out.
“Y-yeah I’m sorry I was about to come over and ask Wade if I could borrow something but I-it’s fine come on in!” you said ushering him in before the door behind you both.
The inside of your apartment is cute. The layout is much the same as his own place that he shares with Wade and Blind Al but yours just felt a little more homey to him.
Movie posters and works of art decorated your walls, there was a bookcase in the living room full of all kinds of books and knick knacks that you had collected over the years. On a table by the tv was a record player with a decent sized stack of vinyls. The whole place just screamed you.
“Dinner’s just about ready!” You said drawing his attention back to you. You had changed clothes since he last saw you in the laundry room, your outfit hugging your soft curves in all the right places.
“I was comin’ over to see if Wade had some ice cream for the pie, but I guess we could go without it.” You said leading him into the dining room with a smile, you’re always smiling at him, he noticed. “I hope you like blueberry!”
Logan never thought he'd see the day where someone would cook a nice meal for him let alone the variant of someone he treated so callously before.
He winced internally trying not to think about that. He was here now, not in his old shitty universe where you were gone, but in a new one, one where he had friends, a daughter, a family. It was a chance to start over.
“Sounds great darlin, I’m starving.”
Once you sit down for dinner Logan immediately tucks in, he could smell what you were cooking hours ago from across the hall and damn if it wasn’t the best thing he ever put in his stomach.
The two of you made light conversation as you ate, you poured yourself a glass of wine while Logan had the hard stuff, single malt scotch on the rocks. It had been a gift from Wade after one of his missions, an expensive one at that, and Logan savored every drop of it.
After a few more drinks the pair cleared their empty plates, wrapping up the leftovers of their meal up in portions so Logan could take some home with him. You were pulling the pie from the oven when you heard the telltale sound of running water, looking over you see Logan, rolling up his sleeves with a dish towel draped over his shoulder as he started to do the dishes.
You bite your lip to physically keep from moaning and embarrassing yourself on the spot, domesticity looked damn good on him.
His nose twitched as he smelled your arousal spike for a second, thinking it better to keep that to himself he shifted on his feet as he dried a dish and put it on the rack.
“You don’t have to-“ You started pulling off your oven mitts. They were Star Wars themed, nerdy like the rest of your apartment.
God you were such a geek! You thought flustered, while shoving them onto the counter behind you.
“Nah you cooked, it’s the least I could do.” He said not moving from his spot at the sink
“Logan.” You said firmly placing a hand on your hip. “You’re a guest.”
“And you cooked.” He reiterated,cocking an eyebrow your way. “I’m not budging on this darlin.”
You sigh defeatedly as you grab the towel from his shoulder. “Fine, at least let me help.”
The two of you do the dishes in silence, him washing and you drying, your fingers brushing against each other every so often.
“Dinner was great.” Logan said awkwardly trying to break the stifling silence that enveloped you.
“Good I’m glad you liked it.” You smiled down at your hands timidly, refusing to let him see you cheesing as hard as you were.
“Sorry for not being better company, I know you’re more used to people talkin’ your ear off.”
Wade begrudgingly crosses his mind.
"I'm just uh not so good with people. Makes me anxious.” He admitted, it took a lot for him to come out and say it but he was comfortable with you, he trusted you.
“I get it, I’m the same way that’s why I’m always around Wade. He usually does all the talking for me.” You say fondly thinking back to all the times Wade had been your emotional support extrovert.
Logan honestly had no idea how you put up with him.
“Besides I think your company’s just fine Logan, I like having you around.”
I like being around you too, he wanted to say but he couldn’t get it out. Instead he settled for brushing his shoulder against yours, a small smile dancing across his features as you smiled back up at him.
Flicking the water from your hand as you both finished up, you dry your hands on another rag before offer it up to Logan, his fingers brushing against yours for the umpteenth time that night.
When you look up he’s staring at you, his eyes taking in your features again, flickering between your face and your mouth. You can’t quite place what the emotion is behind his eyes but it makes your belly feel warm and your chest flutters.
Maybe it’s the alcohol you both had, though you know for a fact it takes a whole hell of a lot more than what you had to get you both drunk, but you could have sworn he was getting closer to you.
You start to back up just as he moves to close the distance between you. Chest to chest, or more like chest to sternum as he was almost a whole foot taller than you, Logan starts to lean down sniffing you as your back hits the counter behind you.
“Your heart’s racing.” He says
You had almost completely forgotten about his heightened senses. You were so nervous this whole evening, hoping that everything would go right, could he hear you this whole time? Oh god could he smell you?
“You smell good too.” He says moving to stroke your face with the back of his hand, confirming your fears. You clench your legs together tightly, hoping to at least dampen the smell of how wet you were becoming, causing him to chuckle.
“No use hiding it doll, I can smell you from a mile away.” He said leaning down so that his face is closer to yours.
“Logan…” you whisper. His eyes never leaving your mouth.
“Hm?”
“T-the pie…” You stuttered nervously as your own eyes drifted down to his mouth. You worked so hard on the pie you didn’t know if you’d hate it more if it went to waste or if he moved away from you at that moment.
You wanted more than anything for him to stay where he was, caging you in at the counter like a frightened little mouse.
“It can wait sweetheart.” He said, finally claiming your lips as his own.
He pulls back for a moment to look at you, dipping to place a gentle peck on your lips, as if he’s asking if this is ok.
You wrap your arms around him, dragging his mouth back down to yours, he moves his hands to the back of your thighs hoisting you up onto the counter behind you, grinding himself into you as the kiss deepens.
Logan hesitates in the kiss for a moment, pulling himself away from you as if he realizes something. When you try to lean back in and kiss him again he stops you, holding you at arm’s length searching your eyes for something, anything he could use to make you hate him in this timeline like you undoubtedly did in his old one but he found nothing but adoration.
“You-“ he starts to speak, his voice a little shaky “You don’t want this sweetheart, I’m not a good man.”
I’m not your hero, he meant to say.
You place a hand on his cheek rubbing softly at his mutton chops with your thumb.
“Please stop telling me what I fucking want.” You say leaning back in to peck at his lips. “I want you, not a hero, or this timeline’s Logan, or any other Logan out there, just you. You’re not the Worst Logan, you're just you and I want all of you.” You finish while leaning up into him, waiting for his response.
Raising an eyebrow and at a complete loss for words, having rarely heard you cuss, Logan smirks before leaning back down to meet you the rest of the way recapturing your lips with a “Yes ma’am.”
His right hand comes up to cup your jaw, gently running the pad of his thumb over the skin before running his hand up to weave his finger through your locs.
You hop off the counter, grabbing him by his flannel your mouth reconnects with his as you lead him into your bedroom, he kicks the door shut behind him.
You start to kiss down his jaw before Logan stops you with a growl. He picks you up and tosses you onto the bed before his lips reconnect with yours.
His hands find their way under your clothes to paw at you, as you free him from the confines of his flannel. Tossing it behind him, it hits your iPod dock causing music to start playing but neither of you care, too enraptured in each other to even notice. Logan pulls away from your mouth only long enough to pull your shirt over your head, his hands trailing down to pull down your pants and underwear next.
He grabs you by your hips dragging you to the edge of the bed, as he kneels down in front of you, eye level with your hot core.
You throw your head back with a moan at the first drag of his tongue. Your legs finding their way around his shoulders as he drags his nose and tongue up and down teasing you.
He presses his mouth against your clit, sucking on it before pulling away and flicking it with his tongue, drawing circles and nipping at it with his teeth.
Watching you through dark lashes, he drags his hand down your body bringing it to his mouth, he licks his finger, bringing it to your wet cunt as he slowly begins to move it in and out of you, curling it against your gummy walls searching until he finds the right spot. You let out a strangled half-sob as he leans back down pressing his mouth against your clit again, sucking and flicking at the hard nub.
“Shit,” you rasp out, reaching out for him. He knew you were getting close, he could tell from the way you pulsed around him as he added another finger.
Tears brimmed your eyes as you felt your orgasm building. “Please, right there!” You choked, eyes closing as you threw your head back.
“So fucking wet for me already and I barely touched you.” Logan chuckles. You stifled a noise as your impending orgasm builds in your gut.
“I-I’m gonna-!” You start to cry out but are cut off by a sob.
“I gotcha darlin, I’m right here.” He mumbles into your pussy as he reaches his free hand out to hold your hips open for him, your hands frantically bury themselves in his hair, desperate for something to hang on to. He carries on lapping at you as you squirm talking you through your orgasm as he rubbed his nose to your clit, drawing it out of you as his fingers continue to fuck in and out of you.
“That’s it sweetheart.” He sighs as he keeps fucking you on his fingers, his intensity increasing as he latches himself back onto your clit devouring you like a man starved, you come almost instantly. It’s when he looks up at you, hazel eyes dark and hungry, that you finally lose it, your second orgasm of the night ripping through like a freight train.
Standing back to his feet Logan licks your residue from his lips and fingers, chin glistening with your slick.
You sit up immediately grabbing at his belt, fingers rushed and fumbling with the buckle, he replaces your hands quickly unbuckling it before pulling the hem of his shirt up over his head.
Reaching behind you, you free your chest from your bra, just as he kicks his pants off. Logan pushes you backwards, your back hitting the soft mattress beneath you as he stalks over towards you on his hands and knees.
He inhales deeply through his nose taking in your scent, the aroma of you mixed with your arousal is intoxicating and is driving him absolutely feral, with a wet kiss he bites down hard where your neck and shoulder meet, where your scent’s the strongest, nearly drawing blood, before he’s back on you, covering your mouth with his own kissing you viciously as if you’d fade away from existence if he let you go.
He laps at the spot he had previously bitten you as he slowly pulls away, soothing the skin there. The mark was already gone, thanks to your healing factor, but god you could still feel it and you secretly ached that he’d do it again.
You soon feel the head of his cock running along your folds, it’s thick, and hot to the touch as he runs it along your slick hole. Then without warning he’s pushing into you, sheathing himself inside of you with a single thrust.
Logan threw his head back with a loud groan. He promised himself he’d go slow with you, take his take opening you up for him but fuck if this didn’t feel right, good it felt oh so good.
“Fuck” he grunts out into your mouth as he drops his head down to drag you into a hard smoldering kiss swallowing your moans as he sinks in fully.
He lets you adjust for a few moments before he pulls back and thrusts into you instinctively, repeating the harsh action as he begins to slowly pick up his pace. If you had been completely human, the force of his thrusts would’ve surely shattered your pelvis or at least threw them out of alignment.
Reaching up to grab onto the headboard of your bed to anchor himself Logan locks in fully, gripping the wood bar in a death grip as he pushes into you. You reach up too, grabbing a handful of sheets by your head with one hand and his hips with the other, desperate for something to anchor yourself with as Logan’s brutal pace has you reeling.
“L-Logan!” you cry out, body shaking from the force of his thrusts. His cock sinking deeper and deeper as he angles your legs over his shoulders, hitting that sweet spot inside of you repeatedly making your legs tremble in unadulterated pleasure.
An audible crack is heard from where Logan is still holding onto your headboard but you both could careless, your heads completely clouded over with lust.
Just when you were starting to think it was all too much, his thumb finds your clit again and starts to rub fierce quick little circles.
“Gimme one more darlin.” His voice is strained and rough, as he leans down to your neck inhaling your scent again as he licks up to your neck nipping at your jaw and neck as he pulls away.
You scrambled to get away, pushing at his chest as the over sensitivity was proving to be too much.
Logan lets go of the headboard and grabs both your hands with his much larger one, locking them firmly to his chest right over his rapidly beating heart.
“Don’t try and run from me kid, you wanted this remember?” He chuckled darkly, picking up his pace even more if that were possible.
Tears stream steadily down your cheeks as your barreling toward your next orgasm, it’s here, with your hair fanned out around your head, cheeks puffy and tear stained while you pant desperately trying to get away and keep up with him at the same time , that he thinks this is the most beautiful he’s ever seen you.
“Come on my dick, baby.”
Your body completely locks up at his words, your back arching off the bed as you scream, your orgasm wrecking through you as you clench around him like a vice. Logan drops your legs, yanking you up into a messy kiss as he takes you through it.
“Good fucking girl.” He grunts against your lips, he gives you a few moments to come down from your high, burying his face into your neck before he resumes his punishing pace.
You think you’re at your limit as fat tears fall from your eyes, never have you ever felt this good, this full before, it’s far too much for you.
Just as you were about to tap out, he grunts into your neck, his hands move to grip your ass bringing it up to meet his thrusts.
“Fuck, tell me where?” He growls out. He wraps an arm around your back bringing you chest to chest as he fucks you on his lap, the new angle making him hit that sweet spot inside of you that makes your toes curl.
At first you don’t quite understand what he’s asking, your brain too foggy to comprehend much of anything right now, but as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, nearly drawing blood again, you finally understood, he was close and so were you again.
“Inside, please I wanna feel you.” You whimpered as he pounds into you. He groans at your request and picks up the pace rutting up into you desperately like an animal. His hammering is deep and unforgiving with his enhanced strength but it feels too good to make him stop, you’ll definitely have a hard time walking in the morning.
With one last harsh flick of his thumb to your clit you’re coming hard on his dick, clenching around him as your body quivers uncontrollably, almost blacking out for a moment.
He growls as his hips stutter against your own, as he cums into you, the force of his final thrust knocking you both bad down onto the mattress. Logan thrusts a few more times, pumping his load as deep inside of you as he could, claiming your mouth once again in a deep searing kiss.
You run your hands through his hair as he nearly drops himself on you, his forearms supporting the weight of his adamantium skeleton. He’s still buried inside you as you're peppering his face and neck with light kisses.
It’s quiet for a moment before he lifts himself up, pulling himself from inside you with a grunt. He pushes stray locs from your face as he kisses your forehead and flops over onto the other side of the bed dragging you with him.
At the weight of his adamantium bones dropping down onto the already crack and barely hanging on frame your bed frame finally gives out dropping your mattress to the floor with a loud thud, startling the both of you.
“I can’t believe that just happened.” You panted too shocked and tired to move from your spot on his chest.
“Sorry baby, I’ll get you a new one.” Logan laughs lightly as he pulls you to his chest.
A comfortable silence fills the room as the two of you lay on the floor, your breathing starting to return to normal. Leaning down to inhale your scent again Logan’s met with the pleasant tang of you covered in him and pulls you tighter snuggling you into him.
“You still with me?” The rough edge of his voice brings you back to your senses.
You smiled up at him from his chest with a big dopey smile, eyes completely dazed as you answered with an “mm-hm.” Too fucked out to fully speak properly. You laid back down on his chest, eyes closed as you shiver, he runs a hand up and down your spine as you start to drift off.
He chuckles at your response or lack thereof and pulls your sheets over the both of you. The temperature in the room had started to come down dramatically as your sweat covered bodies cooled in the night.
Just as Logan was about to close his eyes and join you in what was hopefully a peaceful night’s rest for the first time in years, your bedroom door bursts open revealing Wade, still clad in his hello kitty pajamas helping himself to a piece of the pie you had left out.
“Jesus Wade!” You yell eyes practically bulging out of your head as you scramble to grip the sheets to your chest.
“What the fuck asshole?!” Logan growled trying his best to shield you from view with his arms. His hazel eyes were seething with anger.
“My sweet virgin eyes!” Wade said, covering his eyes but still peeking through them through a gap in his fingers with a smirk as he chewed loudly. “You two sounded like an indoor jungle gym but instead of a shit ton of kids it's just you two.” He laughs shoving the rest of the slice into his mouth as he moves to sit on the edge of the broken bed on the floor, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “You, young lady, have some pipes on you. Could hear you practically singing about the Wolverine.~” he teases with a tsk.
“And you sir!” He points to Logan who growls at him as he swats his hand outta his face. “Where do I even begin?” He tsked again as he shook his head “You really had some pent up frustration didn’t you, you slut? Did you break her? I know she has a healing factor too but good god man have some restraint!” he leans back on her broken bed as he spreads himself out on the end.
“And her poor bed! I hope you're planning on replacing it, bee tee dubs.” Wade rolls over onto his side propping himself up on his elbow at the couple’s feet. “Did he even use a condom?” He whispered to you loudly before adding “Nice tits by the way.” as he winked at Logan. “I don’t think creampie was the type of pie she had in mind when she invited you over for dinner, old man.”
“Who knew Wolverine was a cuddler?”
You roll your eyes at Wade’s antics completely used to him over the years of knowing him but Logan on the other hand had clearly had enough. Ripping the sheets from himself you watch as Logan comically chases Wade out of the room, buck ass naked.
Slamming your bedroom door shut Logan turns the lock with a grunt, finally returning to your side he pulls you back to his chest and flings the sheets over you.
“He’s not so bad, y'know when you get used to him.” You shrug with your eyes closed as you snuggle into his chest. Adrenaline, now dying down, sleep had started to wrap you in its dreamy embrace and it was hard to keep your eyes open.
“That little cockroach is gonna be the death of me.”
You laugh at him one last time before finally drifting off. Your soft snores were the last thing Logan heard as he too snuggled into your warmth and drifted off.
Who knew the Wolverine was such a cuddler.
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kissedsuns · 3 months ago
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cat scratch, oscar piastri.
cw: SMUT, scratching, p in v, crying, & more . . .
for someone often described as a 'polite cat,' oscar certainly lives up to the 'cat' part, though 'polite' wouldn't be how you'd describe him when he's pounding into you without an ounce of mercy.
you were in the midst of a silly argument with him when you said something that seemed to push him over the edge.
he suffered a terrible day and a lousy race, and your complaint about him ignoring you on the way back to the hotel was the last straw.
"shut up," you snap, your patience wearing thin. you didn't want to hear any more about his bad day or the race.
oscar's eyes flash with anger. "you shut up," he bites back.
you step closer, challenging him with your gaze. "oh yeah? make me, dickhead."
for a moment, oscar's expression softens into one of mock defeat. "okay," he sighs, a smirk playing on his lips. "but you might moan a little."
before you can process his words, he pounces on you, his hands gripping your hips as he pushes you onto the bed. your breath hitches as he positions himself above you, eyes dark with intent. there's no gentleness in his touch, no hesitation as he drove into you with a force that left you gasping.
"so quiet now," he taunts, his voice a low growl. "what happened to that bratty little mouth of yours, hm?"
you can only moan in response, your body trembling beneath him. he pulls out briefly, just long enough to flip you over so you were on your back, facing him. your cheeks were flushed, your skin slick with sweat as he looks down at you.
"you're such a messy girl," he murmurs, his hand tangling in your hair before he thrusts back into you. the sensation is overwhelming, your cries filling the room as he set a relentless pace.
"i'm- fuck, 'm sorry!" you gasp, the words tumbling out as he leans down to nip at your neck, his teeth grazing the bruises he'd left earlier.
oscar doesn't let up. "aw, poor baby," he mocks, his lips curving into a smirk. "i don't care that you're sorry." his hips continue their brutal rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body.
with a sudden move, oscar lifts you off the bed and positions himself beneath you, keeping himself inside you the entire time. "y'gonna ride me, okay?"
you nod, your mind hazy with desire as you begin to move. your pace was slow at first, just testing the waters, but oscar's encouragement spurred you on.
"there we go, you've got it," he coos.
his hips buck up occasionally, driving deeper into you which results in you almost collapsing on top of him.
your hands clutch onto oscar's shoulders, fingers digging into his skin as you desperately try to steady yourself. your body is quivering, threatening to give out under the relentless assault of his hips driving into you.
"i can't do it- oscar! fuck-" you gasp, your voice breaking as you struggle to maintain your balance. each thrust from him sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making it nearly impossible to stay upright. "osc, i can't keep going!"
he knows you can. deep down, you know you can too.
"you're whining," he says, rolling his eyes. his tone is almost menacing as his nails rake down your thighs, leaving red trails in their wake. "thought we said we weren't gonna do that."
his grip on your ass tightens, his nails digging in even more when you don't immediately comply. the sharp sting only heightens your arousal, and you can feel tears of frustration welling up in your eyes.
"am i makin' you cry, baby?" oscar mocks, his voice dripping with faux sympathy as he reaches up to wipe a tear from your cheek.
you're not in pain; you're in heaven. although, you are a little embarrassed that you're so turned on by oscar being a little shit.
he laughs, a low, rasping sound that sends shivers down your spine. "suck it up," he sneers.
the rest of the night blurs into a haze of exhaustion and pleasure, your body pushed to its limits as he continues to mouth off about what a brat you are.
the next morning, you wake up with a deep, throbbing ache in almost every single muscle. your ass also feeling especially tender for some reason.
you groan, rubbing your eyes groggily as you take in the sight of oscar completely knocked out beside you. his hair is tousled, falling onto his forehead, and a few bite marks cover his shoulders.
those marks, however, are almost nothing in comparison to what you have.
slowly, you remove yourself from oscar's arms, shivering as the cool morning air hits your bare skin. you reach for something warmer to wear, eyeing the clothes that scatter the bedroom floor.
as you pull on a baggy tee and some thin, lace shorts, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. your ass is covered in scratch marks, red and sore. you knew he was gripping you, digging his nails into your skin, but you hadn't realised just how marked up you were.
it looks like a cat had scratched you all over.
"oscar piastri!" you whisper-shout, storming back over to the bed and waking him from his slumber.
he rubs his eyes sleepily, staring up at you with a half-lidded gaze. "yeah?"
"you're a fucking cat," you huff, pointing to your scratched-up backside. "my ass is covered in scratches."
oscar lets out a raspy laugh, propping himself up against the headboard. he just shrugs and smirks at you, clearly unbothered.
he's proud of his work. you, however, are not.
© kissedsuns
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eveninggstar · 2 months ago
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victory lap ⊹ ࣪ ˖
lando norris x rival!Mercedes!reader
26.08.24
୨ৎLando proposes a bet that if he gets pole and wins from pole in Zandvoort then he gets to not use a condom next time you and him have sex.
୨ৎ back one page ୨ৎ back two pages
smut
unprotected p in v sex, kinda bratty reader, lando smacks readers ass twice, sex on the floor, lando is controlling but in a good way, probs more
ngl this is prob the best smut ive ever written so far lol kinda like this one bc i love lando two wins!!! Also this is pretty long i dont know how many words
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The tension between you and Lando had been building up for years. The two of you were rivals on the track, always pushing each other to the limit, but beneath that fierce competition lay something neither of you could ignore—an undeniable sexual tension that everyone seemed to notice. The paddock was rife with rumours, and even your respective teams had exchanged knowing glances whenever the two of you were around each other.
It all came to a head one balmy summer evening at Zandvoort. The Dutch Grand Prix was notorious for its challenging circuit and passionate fans, and both of you were ready to put on a show.
You were lounging in your driver room, going over your strategy for the weekend when Lando sauntered in, a cocky grin plastered on his face. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, his McLaren race suit unzipped just enough to give a glimpse of his undershirt. He was clearly up to something.
“Hey, Y/N,” he said, his voice dripping with that signature mix of charm and mischief. “How confident are you feeling about this weekend?”
You looked up from your notes, meeting his gaze with a raised eyebrow. “Confident enough to wipe that smug look off your face, Norris. Why do you ask?”
Lando chuckled, pushing himself off the doorframe and walking over to you. “Well, I was thinking... How about we make things a little more interesting this weekend?”
Your curiosity was piqued. “Oh? And what exactly did you have in mind?”
He leaned in close, his arms draped around your shoulder and his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “Let’s make a bet. If I get pole position and win from pole, then the next time we have sex i don't wear a condom." He stayed silent for a few seconds, then leaning his face closer to your ear so his nose flattened, "Let me finish inside of you, baby."
A shiver ran down your spine at his bold proposition. You knew Lando liked to push boundaries, but this was a whole new level. Still, you weren’t one to back down from a challenge, especially not from him.
“And what do I get if you don’t?” you asked, your voice steady despite the way your heart was pounding in your chest.
“If I don’t win from pole, you get to call the shots next time,” Lando replied, his eyes darkening with the unspoken promises laced in his words.
You leaned back in your chair, pretending to consider it, even though you already knew your answer. “Alright, Norris. You’ve got yourself a deal.”
Saturday came around, and the atmosphere at Zandvoort was electric. The roar of the crowd, the smell of burning rubber, and the thrill of competition all combined to create an intoxicating environment. Qualifying was intense, with both you and Lando pushing your cars to the absolute limit.
“Lando Norris takes pole position!” the announcer’s voice boomed across the circuit.
You clenched your fists, a mix of frustration and anticipation bubbling within you. Lando had done it—step one of the bet was complete. But there was still the race to come, and you were determined to give him a run for his money.
Race day dawned bright and clear, the sun shining down on the packed grandstands. You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you strapped into your Mercedes, your focus narrowing down to the task at hand. The lights went out, and the race began with a flurry of motion.
Lando held his position at the front, but you were right on his tail, refusing to give him an inch. Lap after lap, you pressed him, looking for any opportunity to overtake, but he defended fiercely, his car perfectly placed at every turn. The tension between you both was palpable, each of you pushing the other to the brink.
As the race neared its conclusion, you realized that Lando was going to pull it off. He had driven impeccably, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t find a way past him. At this point you were nowhere near him. He had a 20 second lead and had lapped over half the grid.
Your heart sank as the reality of the situation set in. Lando had won the bet. As you pulled into the pit lane, you saw him celebrating with his team, his face lit up with triumph. But when he caught your eye, his smile turned into something more—something darker, filled with desire.
Later that evening, after all the interviews and celebrations, you found yourself in Lando’s motorhome. The air between you crackled with anticipation as he closed the door behind him, shutting out the world.
“You know,” he said, his voice low and rough, “I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed winning a race this much.”
You swallowed hard, your body already responding to the heat in his gaze. “You got lucky, Norris.”
He smirked, stepping closer until you were backed up against the wall. “I think we both know it wasn’t just luck, Y/N. Now, are you ready to pay up?”
Your breath hitched as he pressed his body against yours, his hands sliding up your sides. You could feel his heart pounding in time with your own, the intensity between you both reaching a fever pitch.
“You won fair and square,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.
Lando’s eyes darkened, and he leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. It was fierce, filled with all the pent-up desire that had been simmering between you for so long. His hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss.
Lando didn't waste anytime before he urged you backwards towards the sofa. Your mouths slotted together and his hands groped and explored your body, going from your chest to your thighs. His hands manoeuvred the remains of your race suit to the floor, only leaving you in your fireproofs. With the reduced barrier, he could easily press against you causing you to let out many gasps and a few tugs to his hair.
Pulling away slightly, you mumbled into his mouth, “Lan, hurry up.”
He paused, eyes scattering over your features. His face was no longer the happy winner everyone outside saw. He was now drunk with a lust filled haze. He lifted himself up off of you slightly, bringing a hand to your face and caressing it with the utmost care. His breath felt warm against your face, causing your eyes to flutter shut. The calmness you were experiencing was cut short by the strong grip Lando had on your face, squeezing your cheeks and puckering your lips.
"You're the one needing to be faster." He practically growled, looking deep into your eyes. "Remind me who came first." He paused, awaiting your answer. "Who won the bet?" His voice sent shivers down your spine.
"You," you mumbled, then began to smile as his hand drifted to your neck. He returned the smile and slowly moved his face to the underside on your jaw. He kissed it sweetly, then tightened his grip.
"Louder, baby." He commanded, his words dark but mixed with the feather light kisses sent your head into another dimension.
"You!" You spoke up, earning a nip to your neck. He then came back to your face to then deepen the kiss you had earlier.
He moved your lower body so he could fit more comfortably between your legs. Your hands desperately gripped at his damp hair, needing to hold anything to ground yourself.
You felt the hand around your neck slowly trail down the length of your body before settling at your groin. Your legs attempted to close shut, although his waist was preventing you from doing that. He began to work at your clothed clit, his thumb easily circling over the smooth fabric.
"Uh-" your voice cut off as he pressed on the dampening fabric harder.
"There you go, you're speeding up. Getting wet so quickly," He spoke condescendingly as he nuzzled his nose in your cheek. "Why cant you be like this on track?" He began to mouth at your neck, causing you to let out a breathy moan. As much as you hated Lando's cockiness, god was it hot.
“Shush.” You moaned, an audible show of your composure.
You could barely speak, Lando's thumb never faltering on your soaking clit. His body was overwhelming you, and you started to squirm. However, that same thumb stopped giving pleasure. Before you could protest, he was hastily ripping your fireproofs off. This left you bare and flushed below him. Your chest heaving up and down as his eyes scanned over our body.
He leaned up to nip at your ear, surely leaving a mark this time, as you expelled a breath of pleasure as his fingers worked their way into your slit.
Your words were lost on you, wanting to ask when he was going to get to the real reason of your bet. But in all honestly, you didn't care if he would carry on pleasuring you. However, you did want his fingers to enter you, to leave you wanting more of a stretch for days after.
His fingers left your aching cunt, leaving it to pulsate rhythmically. You reached out to hold his hand, an iron bruising grip you're sure of it. His race suit clad crotch bumped against your bare one, giving a shock of unexpected pleasure.
"Lan!" you practically yelled, your squeal bouncing off of the surrounding walls.
He shushed you, then ordered you to not touch yourself. He slowly slinked up off of the sofa, eyes solely focused of your slightly twitching body. The rest of his race suit joined yours on the floor, in addition to his fireproofs.
His cock sprung free, the tip beat red and dripping at the sight of you. Lando stood proud for what felt like forever. His left thumb was stroking his lip as he shook his head in the opposite direction. That's when he uttered-
"Get on the floor."
You submissive sex haze briefly broke, thinking you heard him wrong.
"The floor?" You pushed your body up, looking at him like he just asked you to get on the floor like an animal. Oh wait-
"I won the bet, baby." He smirked, eyes still raking over your nude body. "Floor, there's not enough space on the sofa for us."
With a sigh and a reluctant nod, you melted your way off of the sofa. You knew the position he wanted you in, he rarely fucked you when not in it. You laid on the floor for a few seconds, collecting yourself. Lando saw you laying there, not having you be a pillow princess he ordered you to-
"Flip around, ass up. I know!" You rolled your eyes, then did it. What you didn't expect was a harsh smack to your ass. You let out a mixture of a moan and a sound on pain.
"Enough of the bratty attitude," He smacked your ass lighter this time then gripping the plump, reddening flesh.
Finally, you thought, the head of his cock began to notch at your entrance. His fingers had intertwined with the nodded strands of your hair and he pulled up as his dick pushed into your cunt in a swift motion.
You both let out a groan of pleasure. Lando held himself there, letting you and himself adjust to the jaw dropping pleasure. This was the first time the pair of you were having sex without a condom, and god did it already feel a million times better. The pair of you had to focus to not cum straight away.
No words were needed between the four walls of you sex filled haven, as Lando thrusted into you. His palms splayed on your hips controlled your movements as his relentlessly bullied his cock further and further into you. You hands struggled to hold onto something, eventually finding solace in Lando's fireproofs.
His name was chanted like a prayer from you, in return you got delicious sounding moans and groans from behind you. You were sure his face didn't look all that different to yours in the moment. Pleasure filled, and only focused on the other.
His repetitive ruts and the bruising grip on your hips rendered you speechless. You wanted to say keep going, feels so good. But that was the problem, since the pleasure was that unbelievable you couldn't say. The loud sounds of sex echoed as your skin slapped in a fast tempo, each smack more pleasureful than the last.
Lando leaned closer to you, chest flat of you back. At every thrust you could feel the tense of his abs and the perspiration drip onto your equally sweaty skin. He began to mouth at your neck, settling for small thrusts whilst he was buried at the hilt. One on his hands slithered away from your hips and found solace on your breast.
His hot breath spread across your neck and down your spine as you shivered. His moans had turned to grunts and pants.
"Like it when you can feel me this good?" He grinned into your hair, leaving small kisses in his wake. "Like it when your this full?"
You wanted to nod, only giving a weak, stuttered head movement. The remaining hand on your hip drifted to your swollen clit. He helped ease you to completion.
"Aren't you glad I got pole." He teased you. "That I won. You wouldn't feel this good if I didn't."
You whimpered at his words, too turned on to be annoyed that he won and you didn't. But yeah, you were happy he won. He doesn't have to know that though.
You wanted to tease him, give him payback to what you were feeling, what you always felt with him, however none of that would be happening. He knew you like he knew the tracks the pair of you frequented, and knew that you were actual putty in his hands this very moment.
He picked up his pace, resulting you to let out loud moans and sexual noises of the like. The speed of his thrusts felt as if his dick was going to come out, luckily it didn't and you got the full pleasure.
His fingers at your clit sped up, he sensed how close you were solely on how your body tensed up.
"Come on, you can cum for me. I know you can-"
His hand came up as fast as his reflexes allowed, as you came. He slowly reduced the pleasure he was giving to your clit and eventually reached his own high. Your neck vibrated at the animalistic groan he let out into it.
Needless to say, the pair of you would be having more bets like this.
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Please don’t steal my work, much love ᡣ𐭩
taglist: (comment if you wanna be added)
𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 eveninggstar
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autumnrory · 11 months ago
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omg omg i don't need to spend more money on myself rn so i'm gonna hold out but i saw an instagram ad for what looked like a really excellent jewelry box and i was worried it would only be on am*zon but i found it elsewhere ofc i wish i would have the different color options but like i'm not buying from them so. hopefully it will stick around bc i'd really prefer to wait till after christmas
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mostlysignssomeportents · 15 days ago
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You should be using an RSS reader
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On OCTOBER 23 at 7PM, I'll be in DECATUR, GEORGIA, presenting my novel THE BEZZLE at EAGLE EYE BOOKS.
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No matter how hard we all wish it were otherwise, the sad fact is that there aren't really individual solutions to systemic problems. For example: your personal diligence in recycling will have no meaningful impact on the climate emergency.
I get it. People write to me all the time, they say, "What can I change about my life to fight enshittification, or, at the very least, to reduce the amount of enshittification that I, personally, experience?"
It's frustrating, but my general answer is, "Join a movement. Get involved with a union, with EFF, with the FSF. Tell your Congressional candidate to defend Lina Khan from billionaire Dem donors who want her fired. Do something systemic."
There's very little you can do as a consumer. You're not going to shop your way out of monopoly capitalism. Now that Amazon has destroyed most of the brick-and-mortar and digital stores out of business, boycotting Amazon often just means doing without. The collective action problem of leaving Twitter or Facebook is so insurmountable that you end up stuck there, with a bunch of people you love and rely on, who all love each other, all hate the platform, but can't agree on a day and time to leave or a destination to leave for and so end up stuck there.
I've been experiencing some challenging stuff in my personal life lately and yesterday, I just found myself unable to deal with my usual podcast fare so I tuned into the videos from the very last XOXO, in search of uplifting fare:
https://www.youtube.com/@xoxofest
I found it. Talks by Dan Olson, Cabel Sasser, Ed Yong and many others, especially Molly White:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MTaeVVAvk-c
Molly's talk was so, so good, but when I got to her call to action, I found myself pulling a bit of a face:
But the platforms do not exist without the people, and there are a lot more of us than there are of them. The platforms have installed themselves in a position of power, but they are also vulnerable…
Are the platforms really that vulnerable? The collective action problem is so hard, the switching costs are so high – maybe the fact that "there's a lot more of us than there are of them" is a bug, not a feature. The more of us there are, the thornier our collective action problem and the higher the switching costs, after all.
And then I had a realization: the conduit through which I experience Molly's excellent work is totally enshittification-proof, and the more I use it, the easier it is for everyone to be less enshittified.
This conduit is anti-lock-in, it works for nearly the whole internet. It is surveillance-resistant, far more accessible than the web or any mobile app interface. It is my secret super-power.
It's RSS.
RSS (one of those ancient internet acronyms with multiple definitions, including, but not limited to, "Really Simple Syndication") is an invisible, automatic way for internet-connected systems to public "feeds." For example, rather than reloading the Wired homepage every day and trying to figure out which stories are new (their layout makes this very hard to do!), you can just sign up for Wired's RSS feed, and use an RSS reader to monitor the site and preview new stories the moment they're published. Wired pushes about 600 words from each article into that feed, stripped of the usual stuff that makes Wired nearly impossible to read: no 20-second delay subscription pop-up, text in a font and size of your choosing. You can follow Wired's feed without any cookies, and Wired gets no information about which of its stories you read. Wired doesn't even get to know that you're monitoring its feed.
I don't mean to pick on Wired here. This goes for every news source I follow – from CNN to the New York Times. But RSS isn't just good for the news! It's good for everything. Your friends' blogs? Every blogging platform emits an RSS feed by default. You can follow every one of them in your reader.
Not just blogs. Do you follow a bunch of substackers or other newsletters? They've all got RSS feeds. You can read those newsletters without ever registering in the analytics of the platforms that host them. The text shows up in black and white (not the sadistic, 8-point, 80% grey-on-white type these things all default to). It is always delivered, without any risk of your email provider misclassifying an update as spam:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/10/dead-letters/
Did you know that, by default, your email sends information to mailing list platforms about your reading activity? The platform gets to know if you opened the message, and often how far along you've read in it. On top of that, they get all the private information your browser or app leaks about you, including your location. This is unbelievably gross, and you get to bypass all of it, just by reading in RSS.
Are your friends too pithy for a newsletter, preferring to quip on social media? Unfortunately, it's pretty hard to get an RSS feed from Insta/FB/Twitter, but all those new ones that have popped up? They all have feeds. You can follow any Mastodon account (which means you can follow any Threads account) via RSS. Same for Bluesky. That also goes for older platforms, like Tumblr and Medium. There's RSS for Hacker News, and there's a sub-feed for the comments on every story. You can get RSS feeds for the Fedex, UPS and USPS parcels you're awaiting, too.
Your local politician's website probably has an RSS feed. Ditto your state and national reps. There's an RSS feed for each federal agency (the FCC has a great blog!).
Your RSS reader lets you put all these feeds into folders if you want. You can even create automatic folders, based on keywords, or even things like "infrequently updated sites" (I follow a bunch of people via RSS who only update a couple times per year – cough, Danny O'Brien, cough – and never miss a post).
Your RSS reader doesn't (necessarily) have an algorithm. By default, you'll get everything as it appears, in reverse-chronological order.
Does that remind you of anything? Right: this is how social media used to work, before it was enshittified. You can single-handedly disenshittify your experience of virtually the entire web, just by switching to RSS, traveling back in time to the days when Facebook and Twitter were more interested in showing you the things you asked to see, rather than the ads and boosted content someone else would pay to cram into your eyeballs.
Now, you sign up to so many feeds that you're feeling overwhelmed and you want an algorithm to prioritize posts – or recommend content. Lots of RSS readers have some kind of algorithm and recommendation system (I use News, which offers both, though I don't use them – I like the glorious higgeldy-piggeldy of the undifferentiated firehose feed).
But you control the algorithm, you control the recommendations. And if a new RSS reader pops up with an algorithm you're dying to try, you can export all the feeds you follow with a single click, which will generate an OPML file. Then, with one click, you can import that OPML file into any other RSS reader in existence and all your feeds will be seamlessly migrated there. You can delete your old account, or you can even use different readers for different purposes.
You can access RSS in a browser or in an app on your phone (most RSS readers have an app), and they'll sync up, so a story you mark to read later on your phone will be waiting for you the next time you load up your reader in a browser tab, and you won't see the same stories twice (unless you want to, in which case you can mark them as unread).
RSS basically works like social media should work. Using RSS is a chance to visit a utopian future in which the platforms have no power, and all power is vested in publishers, who get to decide what to publish, and in readers, who have total control over what they read and how, without leaking any personal information through the simple act of reading.
And here's the best part: every time you use RSS, you bring that world closer into being! The collective action problem that the publishers and friends and politicians and businesses you care about is caused by the fact that everyone they want to reach is on a platform, so if they leave the platform, they'll lose that community. But the more people who use RSS to follow them, the less they'll depend on the platform.
Unlike those largely useless, performative boycotts of widely used platforms, switching to RSS doesn't require that you give anything up. Not only does switching to RSS let you continue to follow all the newsletters, webpages and social media accounts you're following now, it makes doing so better: more private, more accessible, and less enshittified.
Switching to RSS lets you experience just the good parts of the enshitternet, but that experience is delivered in manner that the new, good internet we're all dying for.
My own newsletter is delivered in fulltext via RSS. If you're reading this as a Mastodon or Twitter thread, on Tumblr or on Medium, or via email, you can get it by RSS instead:
https://pluralistic.net/feed/
Don't worry about which RSS reader you start with. It literally doesn't matter. Remember, you can switch readers with two clicks and take all the feeds you've subscribed to with you! If you want a recommendation, I have nothing but praise for Newsblur, which I've been paying $2/month for since 2011 (!):
https://newsblur.com/
Subscribing to feeds is super-easy, too: the links for RSS feeds are invisibly embedded in web-pages. Just paste the URL of a web-page into your RSS reader's "add feed" box and it'll automagically figure out where the feed lives and add it to your subscriptions.
It's still true that the new, good internet will require a movement to overcome the collective action problems and the legal barriers to disenshittifying things. Almost nothing you do as an individual is going to make a difference.
But using RSS will! Using RSS to follow the stuff that matters to you will have an immediate, profoundly beneficial impact on your own digital life – and it will appreciably, irreversibly nudge the whole internet towards a better state.
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Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/16/keep-it-really-simple-stupid/#read-receipts-are-you-kidding-me-seriously-fuck-that-noise
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humanoidtyphoons · 2 years ago
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been thinking about this quote from lucia re: kirsi on my reread
i can never speak frankly with [kirsi]. it is always taken as an attack. how will i ever be able to tell you what i really want without it being as some kind of violation to your existence... rather than an admittance and recognition of my own?
and comparing it to the scene in s1 where lucia is like i’m going to be a magician apprentice, and kirsi is shocked, and needs time to process, as lucia explains about boundaries a bit, her own reasoning for wanting to be more than just a lady-in-waiting, and kirsi asks to be left alone... and then the next day gives lucia new clothes to appropriately ~look the part~
is the issue that lucia herself is too impatient for instant results?
like, sure, there’s no denying that kirsi is p. dismissive of fairies, unaware that lucia, her closest friend/adoptive sister is one. and whenever lucia tries to broach the topic, kirsi is cynical and skeptical, bc she’s been raised to think a particular way while lucia remains silent, not wanting to add chaos to an already tenuous peace
but the following scene really does show that... kirsi is willing to accept lucia as a person with her own needs and desires being met, and i don’t think it’s a bad thing that kirsi can’t give the response lucia so desperately wants straight away because there’s merit in processing and letting her come to her own conclusions, agreeing with what lucia says at a later date than hastily agreeing right away, so she can sort her own thoughts out.
that being said, i can see glimpses of what lucia means in that scene? kirsi is surprised, bc she had thought that they’d be together in a certain way, and that would be it. but she listens to lucia, and agrees to it. but in the scene, lucia is cautious, and there’s elements of what-about-me in kirsi’s response, bc she wasn’t even aware that lucia had these thoughts! she was quick to feel hurt and assume the worst, in some ways?
but kirsi doesn’t shoot down lucia’s opinions! she doesn’t say lucia is being ridiculous, not really? lucia speaks, and kirsi converses with lucia, wanting to understand better, and engage with what lucia is saying.
so maybe part of the issue is that lucia isn’t willing to trust kirsi enough. in order to protect herself, in order to stay alive, afloat, lucia just... wouldn’t tell kirsi the truth.
and it’s a shame, bc maybe if she had, maybe kirsi would have thought differently of fairies, would have given them a benefit of doubt, bc she likes lucia, would have become more considerate and less scathing. but their dad never said anything either, so this is on him too. so kirsi absorbs and repeats the same rhetoric about how awful fairies are, bc no one challenges her, or make her rethink what she thinks is true.
yes, i get that lucia was prolly brought up to mollycoddle kirsi, either being told or intuitively thinking this is what i need to do to survive, but damn, this fallout is going to be something, alright. maybe kirsi, tho sweet! is spoiled! was brattier in the past! and that’s why lucia never confided in her!
like i want to say the exchange from s1 gives me hope that kirsi will eventually be receptive to lucia’s secret? she needs to listen and consider lucia’s words, and give it more time than instant acceptence, but she’s willing to concede and accept that they walk different paths, and that’s fine, bc she didn’t prevent lucia from being norrix’s apprentice, after all. (idk if she had that power, anyway, but she showed her support by giving lucia new clothes regardless.)
ultimately, i do think kirsi is willing to listen... but lucia has to speak up about it too, bc otherwise i just don’t see kirsi seeing it as an issue, esp. if ricon is going to be by her side and say shit that’s going to sour her relationship with lucia once the truth comes out, esp. bc ricon reinforces the idea that fairies are bad, which is something that kirsi already agrees with.
tbh! idk if this should be lucia’s job. it probably shouldn’t! but at the same time, there’s a severe lack of kirsi interacting with fairies, and finding out that her prejudices have caused this strain between them, oblivious or not, so kirsi just goes with what she thinks she knows, bc what else is she going to do? she’s been smothered and sheltered and raised to think a particular way, with no one reproaching her or showing her otherwise. 
(and maybe it isn’t lucia’s job, but she did show reimund fairy mistreatment, in hopes of thinking that he could do something. maybe she does think that kirsi can do nothing to improve the situation.)
and it could have started with their dad saying something! it could have started with lucia revealing her fairy heritage!
it could even start with reimund being like. so. listen. i think i fucked up about what we know about fairies which is shamefully little.
instead, it’s likely that ricon is the one who is going to prey on her prejudices and magnify them, since no one else is willing to talk to kirsi about this, bc everyone considers her to be delicate and fragile and unwilling to budge her mind because their afraid that otherwise she’ll lash out.
but... kirsi has shown that she can be receptive, and doesn’t need her hand to be held all the time, but. old habits, their history, and who knows? idk idk idk.
this could go either way into something more positive, or something more negative, and i’d be delighted either way bc i adore these sisters. but i do want some fallout all the same.
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PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT ─── cillian murphy ✧𖦹
ೃ⁀➷ “I am turned inside out by the ache in your voice, the taste of your tongue." — ‘Afternoon Masala: Poems’, Vandana Khanna
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pairing. cillian murphy x actor!reader
summary. you and your co-star, cillian, are having a hard time performing a sex scene for your movie. they do say, however, practice makes perfect.
warnings. swearing, thigh-riding, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex, mentioned/implied age gap, probably inaccurate depictions of actor-life, mirror sex, slight breeding kink, kinda innocent reader(?), AU cillian murphy (not married/no kids), SMUT UNDER THE CUT! 
word count. 4.5k
a/n. this is not in any way meant to disrespect cillians wife😭 i js made this a not married AU to be convenient!
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i.
“Cut - cut, cut!” The director repeated, his increasing irritation colouring his voice completely. “Now, I said it earlier, but—“
You scrubbed your face with a sigh, getting up off of Cillian and the desk, who was propping himself up by the elbows. “It’s not passionate enough,” you finished flatly for your director, who nodded earnestly. 
“I promise, this is as tiring for me as it is for you. Remember,” the director continued, the script half curled in his hands and making a thin flapping noise, “it’s the culmination of six months of pining. Six months of taboo, unrelenting, electric tension. Nothing more than stares in class and brief touches- you are supposed to be bordering feral for one another.”
You, and your co-star, Cillian, were currently filming the first sex scene of a movie portraying the forbidden, toxic love affair between a barely 18 teenage student and her much older teacher. Well, not exactly filming- you weren’t getting far with the scene, for the two of you just couldn’t get it right. Or, as the director liked to say, passionate enough. 
The role was already incredibly taxing, even without the added stress of the sex scene: it was 20 hour work days, living on set in a trailer far from home, having to devote at least half of those hours to filming this very sex scene, and had a perfectionist director like yours. 
The problem was that it was long, and the director wanted it done in one take. Brilliant man, he was, and had a love for this project you wished every director had for theirs, but he was adamant on it being done perfectly. He said it was intended to be the “primary and most iconic” scene of the entire film, for it was the crux of the story; the point of no return for the characters. 
“With all due respect, I’ve never imagined such a scenario, much less had experience. Just how can you expect me to portray a student-teacher romance accurately?“
“That’s your job: to imagine and perform.” The director demanded, obviously up to his ears in frustration.
Just before you retorted irately, Cillian cut in smoothly. “I think what she means,” he said, watching the veins in the director’s forehead nearly burst, “is that it’s hard to perform because it’s not common. S’easy to act in love because there’s love all around, yeah? We don’t have much to go off of, visually.”
The director’s gaze rapidly flitted between you and Cillian for a moment, before letting go of his anger and sighing wearily. “You’ve never even thought about a superior that way? Someone older than you?” he pressed, obviously joking and trying to lighten the set’s mood. 
You paused, and tried not to look at Cillian, your blatantly gorgeous forty-something co-star who was chosen for this role firstly, because of his stellar acting and secondly, because of how fucking attractive he was. 
His character was a total fucking creep, and you knew casting Cillian had been a calculated choice; all in the name of making the audience’s guard come down to be smacked in the face by his immorality later. He was meant to be charming, handsome, and terribly, totally, off-limits: the object of completely forbidden desire, the line your character was desperate to cross. 
It seemed the same in real life, too: the young inexperienced actress wanting to ignore those societal niceties and pine wholeheartedly over the middle-aged actor with decades of knowledge under his belt. 
You weren’t, like, in love or anything, but you certainly reveled in his presence: he was patient, kind, and completely understanding of your lack of experience, always guiding you through all the steps an actor takes during filming like when to take off hair and makeup, what best to say to family and friends prying for details- all the things, he said, he wished someone told him when he was first starting out. 
You were afraid you two had unknowingly fallen into a mentor-mentee dynamic, but there were always those spare moments, between hearty fits of laughter and silly conversation that you’d never expected to come from such an intimidating man as Cillian, where his rough hands would brush past your waist, gaze dragging up and down your body, sounding sensual and provocative despite nothing dirty leaving his mouth at all. 
He made your insides pulse, especially when your more intimate scenes came about, and you could only have a lusting woman’s pipedream that he felt the same. 
You still remember the first sequence you’d done with him: in the movie, your characters met after-class to make up for a missed exam, and it was the start of their corrupt attraction. Cillian had been pressed against your back, leaning over you to pressuringly peer at the test, large hand gripping your shoulder. The air felt steamy then, his body warm, low voice making you feel lightheaded as he recited his lines. 
You shivered at the remembrance of the moment, coming back to reality, and you answered the director’s question with a vehement shake of the head. 
The director let out a (strained) laugh, and smacked his palm lightly with the script, shoulders slumping. “Okay. Okay, we’ll - we’ll break for today. Take this extra time to imagine, research, anything- just practice the scene, alright? Practice makes perfect.” 
You and Cillian nodded simultaneously, giving eachother a look that just screamed “he’s ridiculous” before tearing away from each other's stare to return to your trailers. 
Later, you were getting ready to go to bed, peeling your freshly showered hair out of a small towel, when there was a knock at your trailer door. 
“One second,” you called out, pulling on your silk sleep shorts. You vaguely registered how awkward it might be to be seen in your pajamas if the director or one of your fellow actors came about, but you were way too tired to care. 
You did care, however, self-consciously crossing your arms and covering your thinly-clothed chest, when you opened the door and there on the steps stood your co-star, Cillian.
Before speaking, he looked you up and down, icy blue eyes gleaming behind an unfamiliar pair of tortoise shell frames. “You goin’ to bed?” he finally asked, tone husky. 
His gaze lingered on the bare skin of your legs for a few seconds longer and you shifted uncomfortably, crossing your ankles together in a poor attempt to hide yourself. 
“What do you need?” you asked briskly, more sharp than you meant it to be. 
“Sorry,” he corrected himself, shaking his head and finally looking you in the eye. “I meant’a come by earlier… got caught up. I know this, ah, sex scene is tripping us up, so…” he trailed off, lifting up the white script he’d been holding behind his back. “Y’up for some practice?”
You blinked rapidly at the simple, innocent request. Mere rehearsal, not some lecherous late-night escapade you’d been dreaming up in your mind. “Oh… yes, of course,” you nodded numbly, moving out of the way to let him step in. 
Only moments later, when he’d perched onto the edge of your vanity — looking uniquely casual in what you assumed was his version of pajamas: baggy gray sweatpants and a fitted, well-worn black t-shirt — did you realize the connotations of rehearsing your sex scene. 
Sure, it was all pre-determined, every word you’d say and every action you’d perform, but still. Saying- and doing, such suggestive things after-hours? That was beyond your dirtiest fantasies.
However, you shook yourself internally: Cillian had come to rehearse the scene with professional intentions. Honestly, he’d probably done so because he was tired of you messing up the scene. He could do his own part masterfully, and you knew that if it’d been a better, more experienced actress by his side, filming would’ve moved on ages ago. 
You took shaky, tentative steps near him, settling on your bed, watching him flip through the script— when he looked up and frowned. 
“What’re you doing? Come here,” he gestured for you to come closer, almost a command. “We don’t have a desk, so we can use your vanity.”
You nodded, biting your lip and nervously complying with his words. “So, we’ll start from the beginning?” you asked, your voice -- and legs -- suddenly feeling terribly weak.
His eyes were still trained on the paper as he answered. “Not necessarily. The sex part s’really the only thing we’re having trouble with, yeah?” 
You gulped, throat dry. “Yeah, I guess so.” 
With that, he chanced one last look at the script, before diving into the scene. His actions were ones you were extremely familiar with, having attempted this scene everyday for at least a week now. 
His body turned to yours, hands coming up to your jaw, and pressing your back onto the table slightly. He held you tightly, and made you look at him, while delivering his lines softly, memorable Irish accent replaced by his character’s generic American one.
Jiltedly, you did the same, poorly remembering what you needed to say and dragging through it like some amateur. “Fuck, sorry,” you cursed suddenly, tearing away from his touch and sighing. 
He gave you a small, careful smile, immediately breaking out of character and taking a step away from the vanity. “No need t’be nervous. Practice makes perfect, right?” 
You snorted at his quoting of the director. “I just… I don’t know what he means by passionate. I’m trying to be professional about this but - but I’ve seriously never been in some steamy love-affair.”
“Can’t really expect that of you, can we? You’re too young, too much’ve a good girl for that kinda ‘ting.” He said, hand coming up to your shoulder, the one where your silk tanktop’s spaghetti strap had slipped off, rubbing it soothingly. 
You practically melted into a puddle at both the pet name and how the rough pads of his fingers brushed against your sensitive skin. You were so entranced you almost whined when he stopped and pulled up your fallen strap, but instead you wordlessly snatched the script that was dropped onto the table and found one of the lines, inhaling sharply and readying yourself. 
Your hand came up to tug on the sleeve of Cillian’s shirt, as dictated by the script. “Sir, please,” you whispered out in your character’s high pitched voice, “I - I… want you to touch me.”
“This is -- wrong. I’m your teacher, and I…” Cillian responded, swiftly back in character, the back of his palm grazing your cheek. “I gotta break your heart, darling.”
You looked up at Cillian, summoning crocodile tears to fill your gaze. “Please. I need you.” Then, one of your clammy hands ran down Cillian’s chest as you spoke, like it did back on set. “I think of you, at night. I soaked through my shorts the day you scolded me.”
You heard Cillian’s breath hitch- his character, you reminded yourself. “Fucking hell… I think of you in class, sweetheart,” he growled out perfectly. 
So far, so good, you thought. It wasn’t awkward, and was already miles better than the lackluster performances you’d given previously. You continued by leaning into Cillian’s touch, making him sit on the vanity— the part of the scene you’d gotten to this morning, before the director called cut.
This time, however, Cillian’s actions differed from the ones he was supposed to perform: instead of petting the crown of your head, his fingers trailed down your hips, sending shivers down your spine.
“I’ll be good for you, sir,” you recited, face growing hot as his hand inched closer to the curve of your ass. “You can do whatever you want to me.”
Cillian’s gaze had darkened now, flitting over your features. He didn’t say his line - or, had at least missed the timing, and you removed your hands from his body worriedly. “Are you alright—“
Before you could finish your sentence, Cillian had grabbed you by the ass, switching your places and setting you down on the edge of the vanity. 
“Cillian!“ you squeaked out, the only thing you could really say as you processed what exactly just happened. Your mind was swimming with confusion — and anticipation — as he stood before you, legs pressing on either side of your knees and trapping you on the vanity. 
“Improv,” he promised quietly in his telltale Irish accent, a sly wink appearing on his sharp features. 
You bit your lip, nodded, and repeated your line. You trusted him to guide you — and the rehearsal — because, as mentioned before, he did these kinds of things often. If he thought you’d act better if you sat on the vanity, you’d sit on the vanity. 
His hand then pet your hair, the other hand coming up to your chin and making you look up at him. “Whatever I want?” he murmured, back on track with the script. 
You bat your lashes at him. “Everything. I’m yours.”
Now, this is where you thought Cillian would stop— because after your line came the kissing and the touching and the heavy petting: all things you thus far hadn’t filmed at all, because you couldn’t even get the dialogue out right. 
Instead, he leaned down and began to press hungry kisses down your neck, making you gasp.
“What are you—“
“Shh,” he demanded softly, “it's all part of the scene, remember?”
You blinked dumbly, mouth opening and closing, unable to register a coherent thought or word. He said it was part of the scene but you’d read that script, and his teeth nipping lightly at your skin was not written anywhere within it.
But, you gulped down your thoughts, and belted out several more of your lines in tandem to his own. With his other hand gripping your thigh so tight you thought it might bruise, you were starting to think that maybe this was one of those lecherous late-night escapades you were dreaming of. 
All you’d been doing was acting, like he’d asked, but still, you could see clear as day how that’d affect him— how easily it could be to succumb. After all, you were just barely restraining yourself from jumping his bones: how could you not, with his gorgeous face just inches away from yours?
Well, acting or not, you’d enjoy every minute of this.
When one of his hands began playing with the waistband of your shorts as he suckled on your pulse, that just right spot on your neck, you couldn’t help the whimper that left your mouth. 
However, the noise seemed to startle him; jumpshock him back to reality, and your suspicions became completely confirmed when he pulled away from you roughly. 
“Fuck, I’m—“ a pained grimace washed over his features, looking you up and down like he just realized what he’d been doing. “I don’t know what came over me, I— shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have come here tonight.”
You stared at him, body disappointed at the lack of touch, watching him press his pink lips into a conflicted white line. “What - what d’you mean?”
His gaze coursed over your every feature, so intently you thought he was admiring your face. “I can’t— we can’t happen. Y’too young, you’re, you’re too…”
“Then we can stop. If that’s what you want,” you murmured coyly, hand coming up to pick a piece of thread off his thin shirt. “But only if you ask. C’mon, say it: I don’t want you and I want this to stop.”
He groaned, biting his lip. “Don’t do that. I can’t do that.”
“Do what?” You tilted your head to the side. 
“Tease. Because you know I won’t tell you to stop. ‘Cause I won’t be able to fucking control m’self,” he grumbled, before pressing a desperate, deep kiss to your lips, pulling you off the vanity and continuing down your chest.
“Then don’t. Take me for everything I have,” you whined, following his every move and manhandling touch. 
He breathed heavily between kisses. “Saying those kinds’a words with that pretty voice of yours… fuck, you’re doing things to me.” 
Your hands were trailing all over his body, and then you tugged his shirt off, desperate to feel him. He had similar thoughts, fingers dipping into your silk shorts and petting your hot mound. 
“Need you,” you panted, and, at your words, he suddenly tore off your silk shorts and panties in one clean go, making you shiver.
He then sat down on your vanity chair and roughly grabbed you by the hips to place yourself onto one of his thighs. The thick fabric of his sweatpants, taking in your wetness like a sponge, made you wince.
“Go on then,” he demanded darkly, “get y’self off on my fucking thigh. Show me how bad you need me.”
You bit your lip, face burning with shame at the order. But there was an aching need in your gut, and the way he crossed his arms, watching and waiting for you to get the hell on with it, had you clenching around his thigh.
Your hands gripped onto his shoulders, and you began slowly rutting against him, the soft fabric of his pants doing poor work for pleasuring your core. You pressed your face into his shoulder, screwed up at the lack of friction. 
“Can’t do it,” you whined, “Please.” 
He rolled his eyes. “You said you needed me. You’ve got me,” he gestured to his thigh, “so get to work.” Then, he suddenly flexed, making an unwarranted mewl leave your mouth.
You wanted nothing more than his fucking cock, but here you were, pathetically pleasuring yourself on his thigh until he allowed otherwise. You nodded resignedly, and dug your fingernails into his shoulders, starting to set a steady pace of grinding down on him, slowly building up the heat within your insides. 
You were moaning now, vigorously dragging your hips against him harder, needier, feeling the pressure in your cunt grow hotter and more rampant. 
“Y’hear that?” He asked, one of his fingers tilting your chin back up to face him. “D’you even realize how fucking delicious you sound, all needy f’me?”
You nodded, but weren’t really paying attention: you were closer than ever, just moments away from falling off the edge— when Cillian stopped you. 
“Stop,” he spoke, voice filled with sheer lust, and you whimpered at the abrupt loss of momentum. Then, he got up, holding you against him by the waist, looking down at his sweatpants. “You made such a mess… soaked all over m’pants.”
You didn’t — no, couldn’t respond to his musings, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to return friction to your needy pussy, biting down on your lip to muffle your breathy pants. 
He noticed this, however, smirking and quickly pressing you stomach down onto the vanity. You caught a glimpse of yourself for the first time since your shower, and you flushed with shame: your eyes were heavy-lidded and dilated, lips pink and slick with drool, your brows in a perpetual knit.
You looked fucking filthy, and when you felt Cillian press his thick head to your entrance, something you hadn’t noticed he’d pulled out, too enraptured in your dirty expression, you shut your eyes. 
You were suddenly so much more aware of the situation: you’d fucked yourself silly on your co-stars thigh, the co-star who was twice your age. He now knew you weren’t a talented aspiring actress, no, you were just a desperate little thing begging to be fucked. 
“Hey, hey,” He tutted in mock-disappointment, “open your eyes, and fucking watch yourself. It’ll be good for our scene.”
You whimpered helplessly, obeying him and fluttering your eyes open, as he pushed his cock past your dripping folds inch by inch. 
“Oh my god,” you cried out when he finally pressed all the way in. You felt so full, stretched to the brim with his hardened cock, so deep his balls touched your sticky clit.
“So fucking wet,” he commented, chuckling darkly behind you. You were totally slick, helping him enter you faster, but his cock was still a foreign intrusion to your inexperienced cunt: you were young, and had never been the type to “get around” — at least not with the intentions of getting fucked so much you could take any length of dick easily. 
You clenched around him, a groan leaving his mouth at the increased pressure around his cock, and he snapped into you, making you bounce forward as your lips parted with a sweet moan. 
You’d been focussed on his face, in the mirror, but Cillian’s hand suddenly tangled through your hair, grabbing a fistful of it and lifting your head to face yourself. “I told you to fucking watch yourself,” he spat, gripping your hair tightly. “you’re the reason we can’t wrap up, so do your job and fuckin’ practice.”
With that, Cillian started pounding into you, digging the rough pads of his fingers into your hip, and you would’ve protested such a fast progression — having been given barely any time to get used to his long cock — but your expression was even worse than before, if that was even possible. 
Your mouth was open, tongue out and panting like a fucking dog, your lustfully sticky spit spilling down your chin to your chest, and your eyes were rolling into the back of your head with each hearty thrust Cillian delivered you. The sounds you were making weren’t helping your embarrassment either, all unintelligible mewls and needy whines for his cock. 
“You’ve wanted me for so long, haven’t you? I always knew what a filthy desperate girl you were, pressing up against me during shooting… those naughty hands on my thighs,” he snickered. 
“Needed you in me so bad,” you whimpered, nodding enthusiastically, barely able to register what you were doing now with the pleasure washing over you and clouding your senses. Your back was arching into him, sucking in his cock and never wanting him to leave despite the mind-breaking ecstasy that was coming from his pounding. 
“Just look at your dirty fuckin’ face… so pathetic.” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek; sweet and lovely, a stark juxtaposition to his unrelenting rutting and degrading words. 
You whined at his words, but you knew they were true: you’d never seen yourself get fucked, always too busy with, well, getting fucked, but seeing yourself in the mirror like this had you unexpectedly hotter than before. There was just something about it, your face unabashedly contorting around the pleasure, Cillian’s hands snaking up your body as he rammed into you in the background. 
Kind of like your own personal porno, you thought offhandedly, and you wondered how it’d affect you if you filmed yourself. Hopefully, with Cillian. 
His other hand then came up to your folds, spreading them apart so he could see himself disappear into your hole. “Fuck, your cunt’s so perfect,” he growled, his head falling back, losing himself in the pleasure. 
The orgasm building in your gut wasn’t like the one when you’d been grinding down on his thick thigh, no, it came faster, making you sweat and your knees shake. You wanted more, and you gasped out “faster,” and “harder,” to Cillian, needing him in the stick spongy spot deep in your cunt. 
“Please,” you begged without any expectation of a real answer or action, “please, Cillian, please.”
He did go faster, though, to your apparent shock, both hands coming to your thighs to steady himself. “So needy,” he grumbled, pushing himself deeper and more swiftly into you, feeling how deliciously your fleshy walls tightened around his new pace. 
With that, your high came just as quick, hitting you like a fucking freight train and making you scream out his name. Your orgasm wrecked you, made your vision go white and your thoughts stutter to a complete halt, and you vaguely made out Cillian’s proud hum, whispering “Good girl,” in your ear. 
When you came to, your head was hanging low, your eyes blown out, lips puffy. Cillian was still thrusting into your worn-out pussy, but it was more jilted, shaky and needy. 
“Come in me,” you pleaded suddenly, gripping the vanity to keep your trembling legs up, “fill me up, please, make your come spill out of me.”
“Good god, girl,” he groaned, pounding one last thrust into you before letting go, his cock pulsing around your wet core. He was pressed up to you so deep you could feel him shoot his load right into your cervix, and you grinned weakly, a sweet image of you: knocked up with his kid, your cunt so young and fertile you’d get pregnant from just about anything from him, entering your mind. 
After a moment, he slipped his softening cock out of your filthy cunt and picked you up by the waist to set you down on the vanity and keep you from falling onto the floor. 
“Thank you,” you mumbled, looking up at him through your lashes. You then bit your lip, feeling his thick load of creamy come ooze out of your used hole onto your vanity. 
He noticed too, letting out a satisfied groan, spreading your legs lightly, before collecting himself on his finger and pushing his come back into your cunt. “Such a good girl,” he reiterated, going back to being sweet and petting your hair, doting on your weak form, looking deep into your eyes. 
You swooned at his delicate actions. “Is this a good time to say I like you?” 
He laughed, all adoringly. “It’s as good a time as any. I like you, too, if it’s any consolation.” 
“But you, y’know… you said I was too young,” you reminded him, frowning slightly. 
He sighed, gaze drifting away nervously for a moment before coming back to you. “That I did, but, well… if you wanna take this old man for a ride before I keel over,” he shrugged.
You couldn’t help the laugh that belted out of you, his words so ridiculous and completely not based in reality. “Oh, sure,” you said, shaking your head, lips still in an amused tilt, “you’re mine, old man.”
Before he could speak, probably say another stupid joke, your hands wrapped around his neck and you pulled him toward you, pressing a soft kiss to his plump lips. 
“I like you like you, okay?” You whispered, sounding incredibly juvenile but twice as heartfelt, your tone wavering and self-conscious. You were bearing your heart on your sleeve here, okay, acknowledging feelings you thought should never come to light. 
His hands came up to your face, gently holding you. “Good thing I like you like you, too.”
ii.
“Cut!” The director called, and you swore you felt your heart drop to the floor. Fuck, you thought, mind racing, what went wrong this time? Was it the kissing, or the hands in the hair?
However, the director came up to you and Cillian and let out an uncharacteristic shriek of delight. “Perfection,” he said simply, bordering on catatonic with how content he was. 
Your shoulders slumped with relief, and you leaned into Cillian, who was subtly dancing his fingers across your thigh. “It’s finished?” you asked, breathless with excitement.
The director nodded. “That was electric, needy, tense, delicious, passionate, so, so passionate,” he continued with a gasp, hands clasping together tightly.  “You are two of the most amazing actors I have ever worked with— you are incredibly talented, so convincing I’d have thought you did sleep together.” 
You preened at his praise, but not without looking up at Cillian, meeting his gaze and barely keeping your expression happy and neutral and not at all warm at the thought of the other night's events. 
As the director went off rambling about the utter masterpiece the movie was to be, Cillian trailed behind you off the set, murmuring lowly in your ear, “I guess practice does make perfect.”
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rafesslxt · 8 months ago
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Lustpotion | mattheo riddle
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summary: you‘re in a boring relationship with cedric diggory and after his enemy mattheo hits a few nerves with his words, he gives you a potion. what you didn‘t know is that it was a sex and lust potion
warnings: cheating (sorry cedric), mind reading, drugging ( kind of, you drinking an unknown potion he gives you ), fingering, dirty talk, praise, dom!mattheo x sub!reader, unprotected p in v, kiiinda enemy to lovers thingy
notes: i‘m making up for not posting so long with posting this third post in 2 days hehe, english is not my first language
tags: @unicors1993 @atadoddinnit @awh-lillies @idk-simra @onyxwingsandcrowblackdreams @xitsametaphorbrianx @kiwi475
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My shoulders heavy and my mind racing, I walked into the common room of my house, Slytherin.
All I wanted in that moment was to fall in bed and sleep through the whole weekend. But Pansy had other plans, apparently, cause my door did not open as I tried to walk in our shared dorm. I groan and bang against the door. "Pansy! Open up!" "Sorry Y/n, Draco's over!" I hear her shouting. Perfect, fucking perfect.
With a frown on my face I walk back into the common room, letting myself fall onto one of the couches, closing my eyes, not even caring who's around.
"Wow, I never thought I would have the honor to spend time with you." I hear a dark voice echoing through the empty common room. I open my eyes and see Mattheo sitting on the opposite couch, now standing up and sitting down on mine but on the other end of it.
I just lazily roll my eyes at him and mutter "Don't flatter yourself, Riddle. You know I'm not here for you." He smirks at my answer and shakes his head slowly. "It's just such a shame that you're with Diggory. You know.. he can't keep up with you." I look at him, confused at the sudden change of subject. " How would you know that?"
"I know a lot more than you think, Y/N. I've been watching you two." "Oh great, so I have a stalker?" I answer sarcastically. There's a chuckle in his throat again. " Just observant. But I noticed something. You're not happy with Diggory, right?"
I scoff at his words and look at him directly. " Of course I am happy with Cedric. Why wouldn't I be? Every girl would be. He's so gentle, soft, sensitive.. a gentlemen." I slowly drift off while I'm talking.
"Yeah that's what you want most people to think but I know something else nobody knows about you two." " Oh enlighten me, please."
"I know you have a thing for troublemakers. A soft spot for those who can make your heart race, and Cedric? He's too perfect for you. You need someone who can challenge you, push your buttons, push you to your limits." I hold eye contact while he speaks, not wanting him to think I back down from this but his words hit a nerve, he just didn't needed to know that.
"How would you know what I really like, Riddle?" I question him, something that goes through my mind the whole time. " I pay attention Y/n, I notice things around me. And trust me when I tell you, you give off all the signs." "Signs?"
"Yes, signs. For example the way you always look at me when we argue, your cheeks getting all flustered. The way your heart races when we're close. Even the dream's you're having about me."
My eyed widen at his last comment and my body stiffens. "You can't hide anything from me." I gulp and shake my head. I told no one about my dreams. Didn't even write them into my diary out of fear someone could read it. There is only one way he could know this and I know that his father, Voldemort, was able to do this. "Did you read my mind? My dreams?"
A big smile spreads across his face. " Maybe, maybe not." Slowly I start to get frustrated with this conversation, showing it on my face. "What do you want Mattheo? Why do you care about all of this so much, hm?"
"Because I see something in you.. something I want to try. Maybe pushing your buttons a little bit." I look at him for a moment, waiting for him to tell me that this is a joke, but he doesn't.
I sigh tired "Doesn't matter, I'm with Cedric." "Is that what you truly want Y/n? Or are you just settling for what everybody expects you to want?" I gulp at his words feeling like they hit a nerve inside me again. "I like him, really.."
"I believe you Y/n, but that doesn't mean you can't have a little fun along the way." I laugh sarcastically at him. " Oh yeah let me guess, that fun would include you? You just want something to rub under Cedric's nose."
"Perhaps.." he admits with a smirk. " But what If I would offer you more than that? What If I could offer you things that Cedric never could? Wouldn't you be curious?"
I swallow, scanning his face before I look away, not knowing what to answer him. He's right tho, I really like Cedric but everything with him is so.. perfect. It bores me to death sometimes.. I just want something more fiercy but I would never admit that to Mattheo.
"You don't have to admit anything." he smirks like a little devil, letting me know he's inside my head. I'm happy that he sits on the other end or else he would feel the heat coming from my body and my heart racing. "What should I do then hm? Great, let me guess.. hopping into bed with you?"
"That's a start.." an arrogant smile on his face. "But I meant more like exploring the unknown together." His gaze flickers over my face, studying my reaction. "I promise you won't regret it."
"The unknown? And what would that be?" "Oh dear, don't you ever wonder what's outside there? What else you might be capable of? I can show you." He comes nearer, sitting in front of me now. "Then show me."
With a devilish grin he leans in even closer, his mouth brushing against my ear, his mouth opening slightly as I think he wants to say something but after a few seconds of waiting and his hot breath tickling my ear, he disappeared into thin air.
In shock I look at the place he just sat on a moment ago, then looking around me. Where the hell is he and how did he do that? "Mattheo?" I ask quietly into the empty room.
There was a soft chuckle that seemed to come from nowhere and then Mattheo reappeared right in front of me. " Suprised ?" he asks with a smirk. " I told you I could show you things."
"How did you-" "It's a talent." he says casually as If it's nothing to disappear into the air. "One you might find useful someday.. but let's concentrate on a little experiment for now." " What experiment?" I ask suspicious.
His voice is smooth as silk as he starts speaking again. " I want you to try something for me.." He holds out his hand in which lays a little bottle, unlabeled and filled with a dark red liquid. "Drink this."
I take it from his hand and look at it a bit closer, noticing sparkles in it. "What is that?"
"Just a little potion. It will open your senses, make you see and feel things differently." he says while watching me carefully. I lick my lips before asking If he made this by himself. "Of course.. I'm skilled in the art of potion-making, as you'll find out soon." he smirks. " Go on..drink it."
I don't know what it is but something inside me, whatever it is, screams at me with full lungs to do it, my fingers twitching as I look at the little phial. I open it, position it at my lips and let the unknown liquid run down my throat.
As I swallow it, I could already feel it heightening my senses, my emotions running wild inside me. I see him watching my face with satisfaction as I visibly tremble in his presence. " That's it.." he whispers, coming closer again. " W-what did you gave me Mattheo?" I stutter out as I feel myself getting warmer under my clothes.
"Just a little something to enhance your experience." he says, his voice filled with dripping lust. " You'll thank me later." Suddenly, without a warning, he leans in and kisses me, his tongue exploring my mouth instantly while slowly pressing me down against the couch.
I gasp into his mouth, feeling all kind of things at once. The potion made every nerve in me more sensitive, leaving me panting just from this kiss. Goosebumps erupt over my body as I slowly feel like I'm on fire.
Mattheo smiled against me, mumbling " It feels like all your senses are heightened, right?" I just nod and answer him with a short breathless "yes". "How does it feel now?" he asks as he presses his body harder against mine, still under him. I whine at the touch and close my eyes, too stunned to speak.
His smirk widens, his eyes gleaming with triumph. My body is trembling against his, every breath I take seems to be for him. "How does it feel?" he repeats his question. " Like..like every touch from you sets me on fire. It's burning.." I gasp again, my cheeks turning red.
"Is that so?" he hums, " Do you want me to make it burn even more?" he whispers in a seductive tone. I just nod, not thinking about my actions anymore. " Please Mattheo, I can't breathe." I feel my lungs getting heavier, just like the rest of my body.
He brings his hand up to my face, cupping my cheek and brushing his thumb over my trembling lip, causing me to shudder against him. " I'll make you scream, princess." he promises with his voice low and intense.
I bite my lip at his statement, my eyes slowly closing. " How long does the potion last?" "They can last for hours." he says with a wicked smile, still brushing his thumb over my bottom lip. He slowly let's it slide past my parted lips. He groans as I suck on it, letting my tongue swirl around it, before he slowly pulls out.
"Mattheo please, I need you." I whine, feeling as If I’m about to explode If he doesn't touch me and give me something. " You need me?" He starts to smile at my words, letting his hand wandering over my body. From my mouth down to my neck, down to my chest further to my stomach. I inhale sharply when his fingers brush my stomach, feeling it already tightening.
Shamelessly he opens my jeans, letting his finger disappear into my slip without hesitation. " You're already so wet for me." he groans as he feels me dripping onto his fingers. "I fucking love it." he mumbles against my lips before he kisses me.
He tugs at the rest of my jeans and slides them down without breaking the kiss, until my pants are gone. He takes of my top, leaving my lips this time and looking at me. "Oh you look so hot right now."
My cheeks get red and hot, my face all flustered. "You look so fucking good baby, fuck." he groans his hand going back inside my slip, his thumb circling my sensitive clit and his fore and middle finger go right inside my pussy, pumping me.
"Oh god Mattheo, it‘s too much!" I whimper loudly as he continues to tease me with his touch. It didn‘t take me long before I come on his fingers, clenching around them.
My nails dig into his arms and leave marks all over them, broken whimpers and screams leave my mouth but before anyone could hear, they were muffled by Mattheo‘s hand over my mouth.
"Shh, we can't have anyone hear this, right?" "I need more Mattheo, please. Fuck me!" I hiss, feeling as If I might die If he doesn‘t"
"Poor baby, all fucked out and I've barely even touched you." he says, smiling down at me and my shaking body. His fingers come back to my pussy but this time they only play with my clit which makes me arch my back and gasping really loudly."N-no.. more.." i stutter out.
"Oh I‘ll give you more." he promises, chuckling low in his throat, unable to resist my pleas. He pulls me closer, our bodies flush against each other. With his free hand, he unbuttoned his own pants, letting out a sharp breath as he feels my wetness against his erection.
My eyes go wide as I look down and see his cock. My mouth hangs open a bit and I feel myself getting even wetter. "I - am I dreaming or is this real?" i ask him, not sure If the potion lets me imagine thing.
He laughs at my words and shakes his head. "It’s real.." he growls. "And you're gonna find out just how fucking real it feels."
Before I could say anything, I feel his thick tip against my entrance, pushing itself inside me with a sudden force that made me roll my eyes back to my brain.
"God, you feel so good, so tight." he moans as he starts to move his hips. I buck my hips up against his, finally feeling full, finally feeling that fire on my skin cool down a little bit. I look around the room, realizing again, that we‘re in the middle of the common room and anybody could just walk outside their dorms and see us. But at that moment I couldn‘t care less, it even turned me on when I‘m being honest.
He leans down to my face and whispers inside my ear " you like that thought of getting caught hm? The thrill of being watched.." I moan even louder at his words that let me know he read my mind again. "Please.." i breathe out.
I felt so drunk.. drunk of him. "I bet you would beg anyone to fuck you right now." he murmured as his eyes roam over my trembling body. "N-no, only you.." i whine and it‘s true. I feel like there is a connection through the potion to him. A desire that only he can satisfy.
"I want to feel you." I beg him as he slowly pumps his cock in and out of me. "You want it rough or smooth?" "Rough." i answer without hesitation.
Mattheo's grin widens and his eyes gleam with lust. "You got it.." he growls, pulling me up and pushing me onto the table in front of him. I gasp at the sudden change.
He ignores the possibility of being caught, his hands gripping my hips tightly as he positions himself at my entrance. He pushes into me hard, filling me completely with one thrust. "Fuck" he groans, starting to move his hips in a steady rhythm.
His lips curl into a devilish smile, his movements becoming more aggressive. "You like it rough, huh?" he asked rhetorically, increasing the pace of his thrusts. I slam my hands down onto the table and try to stabilize myself but it‘s useless. He‘s fucking me like an wild animal, the table wiggling like crazy.
We both feel the intensity of the situation growing, his cock twitching with each thrust and my pussy clenching. "You're mine," he growls, grabbing my hair roughly and pulling my head back. He starts moving faster, almost losing control.
I can‘t answer. His statement reminds me of Cedric for a moment and guilt crashes over me. Mattheo felt a surge of jealousy at the thought of Cedric's name crossing my mind as he reads it again. He slams into me harder, his body trembling with effort. "You belong to me," he repeated through gritted teeth, his eyes locked onto mine.
"I bet he can't fuck you like I can. I can take care of you. You don't need anyone but me."
I still don‘t answer him, pressing my lips together which just angers him more. "You‘ll beg for it." he snarls and lifts my leg over his shoulder, getting even deeper which leads to me squirming and breathing fast.
"I'm going to fuck him out of your smart little brain, understood?" I just nod and claw my nails into his back, leaving marks all over. "Tell me you belong to me." he whispers into my ear, thrusting with more force inside me. "I- I don‘t know.." i whimper as i feel him hitting my soft spot.
"What would he think If he could see you right now, hm?" he taunts over me and smiles, scanning my face and body. "Such a little slut for me.“
I scream his name, muffling it with my own hand as I feel myself getting close. "I need to come, please. I'll do anything!" "Say it." he says, his hips getting slower, teasing me.
"I - I‘m yours Mattheo. I belong to you." I cry out as he thrust inside of me like a mad men. "Come for me princess." he moans, his thumb going over my clit again. My eyes roll back once again as he hits my cervix, fucking me speechless.
"Bite me." I look at him confused before he repeats himself. "Bite into my shoulder when you come."
With a brutal pace he slams his cock inside me, leaving me dumb and brainless as he chases his own release. A broken sob comes out of my throat and my stomach twists in the best way ever as i come around his throbbing cock, milking him. I do as he told me to and bite into his shoulder as I scream.
I feel him release inside of me, pumping me full with his cum and painting my walls with his hot seed. He holds me in place, making sure I take every last drop of him.
"So good for me, look at how much you came." he whispers as he pulls his cock out, looking at our mixed juices. I look down and the picture sends shivers down my spine.
"I - uh.. I might have left a few marks." I admit kinda shy as I feel the potion flowing out of my system.
" I must say, you are quite the little cockslut." he said, admiring the mess between my legs and my work on his back and arms. He leans down and whispers into my ear. "Now clean up and go to sleep princess. You‘ll sit with me at breakfast."
"But - I sit with Cedric every time." "Well, that‘s too bad, cause you‘re sitting with me tomorrow." he says, knowing how mich he will get under Cedric‘s skin with this. "And remember, If you don‘t show up I will find you." he says, daring me to argue with him.
— next morning —
As I walk into the great hall, my heart keeps pounding in my chest like its about to explode. My hands are twitching and I couldn‘t hide my nervousness on my face.
I fell asleep last night with an sore aching pussy and a dream that about Mattheo that was .. well, interesting. But I bet he already read my thoughts and dreams I had. Damn, I really had to do something about that later.
I gulp as I walk further into the Hall, standing still as I look over all the four tables. At first I look over to the Hufflepuff table with Cedric sitting on it. He smiles at me as he notices me. That perfect smile.
Then I looked over to my table, seeing Mattheo‘s eyes were already on me. He looks at me with daring eyes, gleaming with lust and power.
Suddenly I hear a voice inside my head, whispering. "Don‘t even think about it my little cockslut." I bite my lip at the choice of his words. I look over to Cedric again, sending him an apologetic look before walking over to an arrogant looking Mattheo, smiling smugly at Cedric.
thank you so much for reading! Comment down beloe If you wanna get tagged in part 2 cause there will be one.. suprise: sub!mattheo 👀
thank you also for every kind of support 😚
xoxo sarah <3
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komitomi · 1 year ago
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Hihii!!
Idk if your reqs are open but could you plsplspls make a part 2 of "just ask" with childe, thoma and scara?Thank uuu :3 If they're closed just ignore :)
Oh my god yes! I absolutely thought of doing childe and scara in the first part but I wasn't able to cause of the images limit, I wanted my blog to look pretty HELP, BUT HERE IT IS ALONG WITH THOMA <3
“Just ask.” — childe, thoma, scara (separate) x afab!f!reader
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;; if you feel yourself wanting to community label this, please kindly just block me instead, it's fucking stupid how people ignore the warnings.
NSFW WARNING, MDNI: afab!f!reader, p in v sex, clit stimulation (childe, scara), orgasm denial (childe, scara), teasing (thoma), cock riding (childe), scara is extremely mean, tiddy succin (thoma), dacryphilia(?)(scara), cumming inside (childe, thoma), p*rn without much plot, sexual tension, missionary (thoma), squirting (scara), reader is too shy to ask, I'm not sure if this counts as dubcon because the reader isn't vocal at first but only consents through her actions but be warned. + not proofread cause we die like men. // part one.
By clicking read more you are consenting to view this explicit content, you are responsible for your own experience.
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CHILDE is always gone from home most of the time due to his work with the fatui harbingers, so when he's back you only ever spend time doing normal things like going out on picnics, dates etc, well that left both him and you sexually frustrated yet you can't admit it cause you felt too shy.
You don't know how long it has been since you both had sex, but it was probably too long since each of his small innocent touches is enough to set you alight, the way he lays his head on your lap had you wishing you can't sit over his face.
He noticed, the way you would squirm, gasp at little touches, so what did he decide to do when he noticed? tease you even more, those seemingly innocent touches turned more inappropriate as time passed by, his arm 'accidentally' rubbing against your nipple, the way his hands trail up your skirt from time to time, when you sit on his lap and feel his member rubbing against your ass, but he never acts on it unless you ask.
“C-childe.” you let out a breathy gasp when you feel his fingers rubbing small circles on your inner thigh, so close to your core but so far away, “What's wrong?” he says in a teasing tone, no fucking way he's choosing to be ignorant in this situation.
“I- childe please.” you turn your head to the side to look at him behind you, but he simply rests his head in the crook of your neck and kisses you “please what? what do you want?” his kisses trail down to your shoulder, you shudder when you feel his hand brush against your clothed cunt.
“P-please stop teasing— I can't take it anymore.” you whimper when you feel his hand pushing your panties aside and drags his finger over the length of your core, “what do you want me to do?” he says lowly, in your ear, trying to contain himself when he feels how wet you are, fighting the urge to just turn you around having your legs wrap around him and bury himself in your cunt.
You let out an airy moan when you felt his fingers pressing on your clit, slowly rubbing circles, “I- I want you– inside me.” you manage to say in between gasps, you feel his fingers speed up, rubbing even faster, you felt your stomach tighten, but before it could snap childe quickly retreats his fingers making you whine, he quickly changes your position, having you face him as he unbuttons his pants before giving his hardened cock a few pumps and lining it up against your entrance.
He guides you down it by your hips and you hold on to his shoulders panting, as you seat yourself on his cock, slowly you start to move up and down, bouncing on his cock, his hands remain on your hips as he thrusts upwards into your cunt, trying to set a rhythm. You feel your stomach tighten once again as the tip of his cock hits a certain spot inside you.
One of his hands travels up your body to grope your tits, twirling and flicking your nipple causing you to whimper at the sensation, “Haa— fuck I've waited so long for this.” childe says in between thrusts, you felt yourself near your edge causing you to grab his shoulders for support and set your own rhythm, making his dick hit the sensitive spot inside you.
“F-fuck baby— you gonna cum?” he asks and you nod, “Y-yeah fuck!” you shakily say, “Cum for me, cum all over my cock.” as soon as those words leave his mouth that coil that has been winding tighter and tighter finally snaps causing you to moan out loud.
Childe thrusts into you a few more times before he comes undone inside you, painting your walls white with his cum, he groans as he rides his orgasm out watching you scrunch your nose due to overtimulation.
“Speak up next time okay?”
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THOMA is just as flustered as you are, he knows what you want but he's shy to speak up as well, he wants to bury his cock deep inside your cunt but he can't do that, not until you ask him to, not until you tell him that you want it.
And just like childe he decides to feign innocence, yet his way is different, he kept those accidental touches fairly innocent, and it made you more frustrated because you couldn't understand whether he wants to touch you, maybe you were the only one feeling horny from them? it made things worse, you now felt even more embarrassed.
And he caught on, so he decided to become a little bit more bold, his hands lingered a little bit long on you, whenever he would wrap his arm around your shoulder his hand grazed your breast, or when you would hug him he would have you tightly pressed against him, feeling your breasts against his chest, you felt his hard cock rub against you whenever he held you that tightly, so now you knew.
And you started to become impatient.
When was he going to touch you properly? bring you relief from all this pent up sexual frustration, you knew you just had to ask but you were too shy for your own good, and it wasn't until one of the nights, when you finally decided to ask.
“Thoma, I've had enough.” you said, which made him stop his current actions, which were literally just him rubbing himself up against you, he paused his movements, and slight panic began to settle in, were you breaking up with him?
Before it could get worse, you turned to face him, grabbing him by his cheeks, before kissing him passionately, he realises what you had meant and reciprocates your actions by wrapping his hands around you waist, pulling you close.
You pull away panting, “P-please just take me already.” you say, breathing deeply, “Take you where?” thoma teases which makes you groan, “You know what I mean.” you look at him and he shakes his head, “I have no idea.” he continues to tease you, wanting to hear exactly what you wanted.
“Archons— for fucks sake thoma, fuck me.” you say frustrated, and that's all it took for thoma to finally snap, he quickly picked you up and carried you to your bedroom, throwing you on the bed as he undid his pants. You did the same, you removed your clothes, trying to get them off as quickly as possible.
Thoma grabs you by your ankle and pulls you towards the edge of the bed, where he stands, he lines himself against your slit, rubbing his cock against your clit, “Fuck— I wanted this so so much.” he gasps when he pushes his cock inside you.
You moan in pleasure, your cunt was already wet, he didn't even need to prepare you. All that pent up sexual frustration for weeks had driven you insane.
Thoma slowly picks up the pace, parting your legs wider, his thrusts were desperate, needy, and fast, he had been wanting this too, how long had he had to control himself? He groans when you clench around him. He could die like this and he'd be happy.
The bed shakes as he thrusts into you, your breasts bouncing up and down, he grabs one in his hand before leaning down to take it in his mouth, suckling on the skin and biting it as he ruts into you, you grip his hair when his tip hits a rough part inside of you.
“F-fuck! Yes there— oh archons!” you moan as his tip continuously hits the spot, making you arch your back and rut your hips against him as well, all while he's focused on your tits, “I'm cumming! T-thoma I'm cumming!” you inform him, feeling the band in your core tighten and snap, causing your cunt to flutter around his cock which makes him moan with your nipple in his mouth.
That made him come undone as well, shooting ropes of his cum right inside you, he didn't have the time to pull out, but you didn't mind, he pulled back immediately, pulling his cock out from your cunt and watching his cum drip down, mixed with your juices as your cunt fluttered.
“Fuck, I wanted this so badly.” he whimpers.
“Then why didn't you ask?” you say.
“I wanted you to ask first.”
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SCARA is fucking mean, he's so mean towards you, he knows immediately what you want but won't give you it, not until he's satisfied, he knows how shy it makes you, how embarrassed you get, how your expression changes, yet he revels in it.
He will touch you, making you think he won't make you ask because he's aware, oh he doesn't want to make you ask actually, he wants to make you beg for it, everytime he fingers you, eats you out, he stops right when you were about to come undone, earning a frustrating grunt from you.
You thought it would pass and he would eventually make you cum, but he doesn't, he never lets you finish, constantly denying you of your orgasms until you ask, no, beg him to fuck you and make you cum.
“Sc-scara please—!” you yelp, gripping his hair and shoving his face back into your cunt, he stopped his ministrations when you were about to cum, which lead to this moment now, he shut his lips tightly refusing to do anything else, his gripped your hand, which was gripping his hair, tightly, causing you to loosen the hold as he pulled your hand away and crawling on top of you.
He tuts mockingly, “You know darling, this could be easily over if you just asked.” he says and you swallow thickly, “But you won't, will you? You are so stubborn.” he places a sharp kiss against your neck, causing you whimper.
“P-please.” you cry out, “Please what hm?” he pulls away, looking at your face and your expression, the way you bite your lips in preparation, the way your eyebrows furrow as you feel your face heat up at the thought.
He sighs, and tries to get off of you but you grab him and he's taken aback by surprise, and you look him straight in the eyes before you swallow, and push away all the shyness that you felt creeping up your body. “Fuck me.” you whisper.
“Sorry, what did you say? Couldn't hear you.” he says feigning, 'fucking son of a bitch.' you curse inwardly, before once again asking him, “Just fuck me.” you say loudly this time, which causes him to smirk.
“You want me to fuck you?” he asks and you nod, frantically shaking your head up and down, “You want me to make you feel good? Bury my cock deep inside of you?” he asks and you nod, “Very well, beg.”
what?
He wants you to beg, and you look at him, his annoying smirk never once having left his face, oh how you wanted to slap it off his face, he lined his cock against your entrance before shoving it in roughly, causing you to groan at the burning intrusion.
You thought maybe he changed his mind, but a moment passes and your cunt adjusts to his cock, but he doesn't move, in fact, he looks at you, waiting for you. You swallow thickly, “P-please fuck me.” you say with your eyes closed.
“No no, look at me, look at me when you beg, tell me how you want me to make you feel good.” he cooes and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, before his slowly pulls his cock out of your cunt and thrusts it into you once again.
“F-fuck- please, please— please make me feel good, want you to make me cum around your cock.” you beg, fighting the urge to close your eyes, tears welling up in your eyes as you cry from embarrassment, he smiles.
“There we go.” he says triumphant, before he thrusts into you roughly, setting a pace at such a brutal speed, your face contorting as he shoves his cock inside and out roughly, he finds joy in your discomfort, trying to adjust to the rhythm.
He pushes your knees to your chest, spreading your legs wider and making him go deeper, he thrusts continue to be violent and rough, it took you few moments to adjust to the rhythm, but when you did, you found pleasure coursing through your veins.
His hand came to stimulate your clit, scooping the slick that leaked from your hole upwards and coat it with it before he rubbed harsh and fast circles.
He moaned when he felt you clench around him, making him go feral and even more faster than he already was, he rubbed fast short circles unto your clit while his cock found your gspot and continued to hit it roughly, the double stimulation drove you crazy.
You felt a coil in your stomach starting to form, you moaned and whimpered below him, before you can process what was happening you came undone, a painful pleasure ripped through you and you felt something wet drip down to the sheets, scara groaned at the sight before he finished with a loud moan as well.
“Fucked you so good that it had you squirting.” he said with a mean chuckle and you felt shy, you just squirted. Of course you did, how could you not? All the pent up orgasms he denied you of was too frustrating.
He propped down next to you on bed and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, gestures like this always confuse you, he's so mean vocally and when he fucks you, but gentle and soft sometimes. You get a mix of everything. But hey you aren't complaining.
“I liked seeing you beg.” he says cheekily, and you look up at him with a playful annoyed face.
“I want you to beg often.”
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shy-writer-999 · 29 days ago
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Summary: Zoro loves to tease you until you cry. Seeing your face glistening from tears really gets him going. What happens when he finally gives you what you want? Afab reader, ~2k words.
CW: Pure smut. Gendered language, e.g. "pretty girl", edging, toys, crying, overstimulation, P in V. Note that this is consensual & no safeword used :3
MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.
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Zoro held a vibrator to your clit at the lowest setting and slowly fucked you with three fingers. His brows were bent, and he was laser focused on the slick dribbling out of you.
For the past two hours, every time you were about to cum he’d turn the vibrator off and pull his fingers out. He was being cruel. You’d gotten to the brink of orgasm no less than 10 times. By the 5th you were begging him to let you cum, and, historically, he’d give in. But today, no matter how much you begged, he just wasn’t listening.
He knew what he wanted, and he was going to get it.
Hot tears made trails down your cheeks, hooking under your jaw and pooling on your collar bone. Zoro’s cock twitched at the sight. He loved to see you like this, drooling, begging for his cock, so worked up from his fingers that you started to cry in frustration. Every sob made him feel like he was on fire, every tear coaxed more precum out of his tip.
This was like a sport to him. He got off on seeing you unravel from his fingertips, fully broken down in pleasure. When your eyes got glossy, teary, and you could barely talk, he knew he was doing it right.
Zoro took the vibrator off your clit and left his fingers in you, unmoving. His hand was a mess—your arousal coated every finger and his whole palm, glistening around his wrist and dripping onto the covers.
“Zoro, please,” you pleaded for the millionth time, voice cracking. “Wanna cum, please.”
Blinking through the blurry drops of your tears and batting your eyelashes for visibility, you could see Zoro’s sickeningly sweet smile. “I know you do, sweetheart. But you gotta hang in there.”
“Zoro,” you tried to wiggle around on his fingers for friction. You needed him to move. You were going fucking crazy.
He tutted and pulled his fingers out of you, a sticky string connecting his fingertips to your puffy, red lips. You gasped at the emptiness, exasperated beyond words. You couldn’t think straight, and the tears wouldn’t stop.
“You’re doing such a good job for me, baby. Can’t you keep going?” He was frowning.
You didn’t want to disappoint him. But you were reaching your limit. More desperate tears seeped out of the corners of your eyes.
Sucking his fingers clean, Zoro then cupped your face with both hands and kissed you tenderly. The kisses were salty from your tears.
He wiped under your eyes with both thumbs, swiping away the frustration. “You poor thing. I’ll put my cock in you, ok? But you have to ask really nicely this time.”
You nodded vigorously. “Please Zoro, please fuck me. I need your cock so bad. Please.”
He sighed and frowned again. “Don’t you need it more than that?”
Tears welled in your eyes again. He was being downright ruthless. You had asked nicely. Really nicely. But it wasn’t enough.
“Zoro, fuck” you sobbed. “’M going crazy. I’ll do anything. P-please fuck me. Please.”
He brought a hand down to lazily stroke himself for a moment while he stared into your cock-crazed eyes. He loved it when you were pathetic like this, when you were shameless.
Tanned skin rippled as Zoro’s rough hand twisted over the head of his cock, grazing the sensitive spots on and under his head. Precum oozed out of his inflamed slit, every drop evidence of how badly he wanted you.
He leaned close to your face and practically growled. “When I fuck you, you have to promise not to cum unless I say so. Either that or I won’t fuck you at all.”
His threat made you feel fucking feral. You didn’t care at this point, and you would agree to anything. “Zoro, I promise. Just fuck me.”
Zoro raised an eyebrow and then positioned you exactly how he liked, in some sort of mating press. One hand held your thigh up, fingerpads digging into your plush flesh. The other was braced on the bed next to you. He lined his cock up with your entrance and took a deep breath. Your eyes were lust-filled, hungry, and almost rabid. His heart skipped a beat.
Pushing through your folds as slowly as he could, he could feel your walls starting to clamp down on his cock. You were so wet that it felt like heaven to him—slippery, velvety, and warm. When he bottomed out, he let out a lengthy groan. “Fuuucccck.”
Finally, Zoro’s hips rocked and grinded into you. Every shove of his cock felt electric. Each bundle of nerves that his tip and shaft dragged over sent waves and tingles of pleasure to your core, radiating outwards to every limb. Your toes were already curling with pleasure.
Zoro had been waiting for this moment. He made you ready enough for his cock, and now he was going to fuck you into oblivion.
His girthy, veiny cock pushed out and in, and each pass attacked your g-spot. Your back was arching, you keened his name continuously, and your eyes rolled back in your head. You had completely lost yourself, forgetting what was going on or who you were; you only knew one thing—Zoro’s cock.
Orgasm approached within minutes. He could tell from the way you started to shudder around him and the way your thighs started to tremble. He frowned again and held still.
“Baby, I said you can’t cum unless I say so.”
“Zoro, ‘m so close, please.”
“Don’t you want to be good for me?”
Once again, you started to cry. It was almost worse now that he was fully fucking you but dangling your orgasm in front of your face. Any time you tried to get it, he’d yank it out of reach. He was sadistic about it. But really, what could you expect? It was naive to think that he’d let you cum right off the bat.
“I wanna be good,” you sobbed quietly, and your fingers clawed half-moons into his biceps. Your tortured eyes met his. Zoro was looking at you like he was going to devour you. Like he’d rip out each morsel of pleasure and then leave you for good. It felt like he was using you, but you knew that he was doing it with your own interest in mind. Any time he got heartless like this, your orgasm almost made you faint.
“I-I’ll be so good, Zoro. Please. I’ll wait. I promise.”
“That’s my girl,” he groaned at your words and tears. He fucked you again, slower this time, pressing more of his weight on your thigh that he was holding up. His other hand passed up your body, travelling from your hips to your breasts.
Greedy hands massaged and squeezed. Fingertips brushed over your sensitive buds gently. Pulling and pinching them, he rolled one nipple softly and then harder until you whined and your eyes fluttered.
“Doing such a good job for me, pretty girl. Keep takin’ my cock like that and I’ll let you cum.”
You whimpered as he fucked you so deeply that his cock hit your cervix. It hurt, but the pain was overrun by the gigantic waves of pleasure elicited from your cunt any time Zoro’s head snagged over your hot gooey spot.
“Just like that,” he murmured quietly, coming as close to your face as he could. Your walls throbbed and clenched around him, squeezing out his precum and swallowing his shaft. “So fuckin’ wet for me, baby.”
“Zoro, ’m getting close,” you mewled. Everything about you intoxicated him. Whenever your tits bounced from his thrusts, whenever you scrunched your nose up from him fucking you too deep, those damp cheeks from your tears moments ago… You had been good for him. You’d let out enough needy whimpers, too. You earned it.
“Let it out. Cream on my cock, sweetheart. Show me how much you love it.”
As soon as you registered his permission, you came. You screamed his name, convulsed and spasmed under him, throwing your head back with euphoria. It felt like you orgasmed for minutes. Your juices gushed out around the base of his cock and he moaned at the sensation.
It was foolish of you to assume he would be done after that.
Of course, his hips kept grinding into yours through your orgasm. You started to squirm.
“Zoro, fuck,” you whimpered. “’s too much.”
“No, it’s not.” He cooed and purred in your ear. “I know you’ve got another for me. No matter how much you writhe, I’m still going to fuck you through it.”
More tears. It felt like he was pressing a button in you that made you wince from overstimulation and pleasure. “Z-zoro, fuck, it’s—it’s too much, Zoro.” You struggled and contorted around his cock. It felt too good, the sensation was too overwhelming, you wanted it to stop but at the same time it was addictive.
“Stay still for me.” He put all his weight on you, and you continued to writhe for a second before you did what he said. Your eyes were fucked-out and hazy, barely sentient of what was happening other than pleasure. His hips rolled with each squelching sound that echoed in the room. Slowly, your cunt started to pulse again.
“Does it feel good now, princess? You like it when I stuff you full of my cock?” Zoro was starting to get riled up. Each hump and thrust goaded feverish desire.
“You’re milking my cock so well, baby. Pussy feels so good.” Every nasty word he rasped in your ear burned.
As Zoro’s peak built, yours did too. He wanted to time it so you came at the same time—though he could be a sadist, he was also a romantic. To climax together was something sweet that he put the utmost effort into.
He praised and encouraged you as much as he could muster. He choked out a word between each grunt. “Doing—so—good—for—me— fuck.”
Zoro reached a hand to rub his fingers in circles over your clit. The noises you produced were guttural and primal—it’s like pleasure was exploding in you. He pressed down with his thumb, hard, and you gasped his name.
“Let it out, sweetheart. Cum on my cock. Wanna feel it.”
Your second orgasm was pure ecstasy. Zoro wrenched it from your core, ripped it out of you like the animal he was. When you started to shake, his hips jerked into you, haphazard and frenzied.
“F-fuck, fuck, your pussy is—so good, fuck, ‘m cumming, fuuuccckkkk.” He came, cocked twitching, seeing stars. You could feel him filling you up, hot and sticky.
Completely losing touch with the world, your orgasm literally crushed your sense of reality. You blacked out for a couple seconds, and by the time you were cognizant again, Zoro’s cum was leaking out of your cunt. He was panting, trying to catch his breath. Sweat matted his hair down around his temples, his cheeks were ruddy, his hair was ruffled up and he was a mess. “Fucking hell, babe.”
Zoro may have been the one feigning control during your sessions of arduous orgasm denial, crying, and fucking, but in reality, you pulled the strings. He wouldn’t have the experience he wanted, and you wouldn’t have the experience he wanted for you, if you didn’t play along too. Zoro knew this, and he was grateful that you’d humor him, grateful that you cherished his intimacy enough to entertain hours of edging, crying, and nasty fucking. Sharing an experience like this and simultaneously respecting the other’s vulnerability was something precious to him.
Aftercare for him was a different sport entirely. And like everything he did, Zoro was determined to become the best. He sprinkled your face with ticklish kisses, replacing the tears that were there minutes ago with love.
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that’s all for this one!! thank u sm for reading :D here’s my masterlist and my October posting schedule.
also for giggles - trick or treat? (both tumblr links heh)
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