#how to get rid of boils on face

[rahabs]

It's just amazing to me that all the people who were having complete meltdowns in February over a video game are now on this website spitting some of the most vile, heinous, antisemitic rhetoric, is all.

[acid-ixx]

brutus: out for blood (villain au concept)

ft. neglectful yandere! bruce wayne x gn villain! reader

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: did anybody ask for this? no! did i decide to write this anyways? abso -fucking-lutely. is this a rantfic? mayybee. anyways, this is not my best piece nor will anything i write be my best piece but i just love destroying my happiness with angst and altho writing a very anxiety ridden mc is fun, i also love to dabble in sadomasochistic traits for a main character. like i said, i am not proud of this but i figured i should post something. erm... leave comments bec i love reading whatever stuff u guys have in store hehe.

you've tasted blood on your tongue far longer than you've felt the loving touch of a family.

it's metallic. it's salty. it twists every vein in your gut.

it tastes of broken metal pipes in playgrounds, destructive tantrums and broken dreams, of skipped classes and detention rooms, of ripped test papers and missed diplomas. it reminds you of your bitter past every single time; one you swore you've buried six feet deep into the ground. a burning memory with nothing more than heartaches and heartbreaks.

you taste blood whenever they reject your advances for even a single moment of bonding time. you feel it pumping slowly, steadily, painfully whenever you stumble upon a room, only to see them, smiles and all, huddled together in a group with junk food in their hands and a movie playing in that stupid flat screen tv. you know it's the only thing accompanying you whenever he misses another event in your school. it becomes the only friend you have whenever you're alone, inside your too-small room, with shatters glass scattered around and bruised knuckles.

blood, for most, is vile, utterly repulsive. it reeks in every corner of a room, its scent is overpowering, it stains, it's hard to clean. it imprints. and it will always remind you it's there, in the depths of your body, curdling and boiling and ready to burst out of the seems every time you rip at your skin with a razor sharp blade. blood has always been your only friend, like a scar that will never fade away.

yet you embrace crimson like it was the color of your soul, and accept how it's the only color you allow in your grim life. black has never provided you solace, but red allowed for a mantra of emotions to trail into your very being.

blood. it's more homely than you let it out to be.

and you're far more familiar with it than anything else. you cradle it like an unwanted child, you kiss its wounds, allow it to fester and grow into an abhorrent disease that crawls like a lump in your throat that you could never get rid of.

in moments of solace, of quaint prayers and hours of kneeling into the floor— it is the thing that slides on cold, hard tiles. it is the warmth, the numbness, the thing that seeps out of your bruised knees, your scratched neck and your thighs with fingernails buried deep into flesh.

you've come to love blood, cherish it even.

especially if it's your own.

especially if it came from the punch of none other than your father.

left, right, left, right.

his punches were cruel and his kicks can easily crush bones into powder. he demands answers with every strike he delivers, he exudes an energy far more adrenaline based than yours. batman is methodical in the way he moves, the way he acts, and you're not; you're impulsive, you had no plans to counter the towering man— no counter for the brutal hits he lay upon you. you let him, you open every doorway world to beat your body black and blue, with red painting the canvas as a finishing touch.

he's stronger than you, and every time he bashes your head into the wall, the urge to spit into his face, to piss him off, to laugh at him and his Idiocracy; it all becomes stronger.

yet all you do was allow him multiple openings, denying yourself the pleasure of attempting to even take your abandoned gun at the corner and shoot at his cranium— you want him to suffer, even if it costs you your mobility by the near future, fuck it.

up, down, to the side, then an uppercut to your jaw and you're nearly depleted of anymore moves to counter. you want to seem like you've given up; but you want him pissed off, enough to punch you 'til blood seeps into the fibers of your mask. until your face starts bruising, until your nose breaks, until he finally rips your mask off and sees your face.

and he'll come to regret.

you shift to the side, and ignore the sting of your throat, the lull of your head and the soreness of your entire body.

because if you hadn't dodged, then your head would've left an imprint on the walls. you would've preferred that now, rather than the disgusting feeling of sentimentality that creeps into your heart at the implication that his blows were slowly, but surely, weakening.

he's holding back, you hold back a sneer.

as if he actually cares about you.

maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. you know he cares far more deeply for his enemies than he does you, and you hate how glad you are at the pride that finally, just finally are you being acknowledged. at the opposite end of his side, as enemies. but for once you can feel the care he offers others, most of which were nonexistent back when you were just some... nobody.

batman never kills; but he can hurt, he can injure, and he can destroy. and right now, you feel all the air leaving your body as the cloaked vigilante delivers the last punch to your ribcage.

you fall, on your hands and knees, a loud thump resounding through the empty abandoned building. all you hear are your crackling joints, and heavy breathing. heavy, like your eyelids, about to fall, about to shut until black encompasses your vision. if not for the remaining adrenaline coursing through your veins, you would've fainted— but you won't, you wouldn't, not until you see him, see his face.

the thumping in your heart beats louder, and your hands. god, they feel like jelly, it's burning, it's one step closer on collapsing under gravelly concrete and piercing skin into rocks. yet you're forbidden any time for grace, not when he lightly shoves you out of your position, and not when you fall to your sides, hands paralyzed, tears prickling against your cheeks at the pain that burns throughout your body.

"you don't deserve peace after shooting that family in front of that child, you know it."

his voice, domineering, absolutely fucking vibrating with a tremor of sheer anger. he directs his words at you, without empathy, without mercy. he wants you to learn to never mess with him in the streets of gotham. but you'll never... not until he notices you. fuck, you just want him to notice you. and now, he is, with utter vexation that causes a lump in your throat to form.

shit, you've never felt so happy.

it's when his tussled form — heavy, pitch-black boots slathered with crimson liquid — enters your sight that you cough, violently, out of breath, and you can feel it one second, then taste it in your tongue the next.

blood.

you grin, and slowly, ever-so eminently, did you spiral into a cackle. your throat gurgles crimson liquid, and yet it only builds into a cacophony of a broken record. you move your head, look through your nearly shredded domino mask, with so little strength to accompany you, to look at the man above you, eyes glinting with a glow never so alive until now.

you're genuinely so fucking happy.

batman, he who strikes fear into the hearts of gotham villains and civilians alike. he who protects the city at night. he whose name is said with wavering uncertainty— he's looking at you, only you.

'bruce wayne: my dad— is finally looking at me.'

and you! you're laughing, the sounds that emanate from your throat are so scratchy, so utterly decimated that it sounds like vultures feeding through a dead corpse; but you don't let your chuckles die down, because you're so, so happy.

he looks at you, with contempt, with disgust, you don't know; but you're still so overjoyed.

"y-yeah... it's me, i did it. are you proud of me...?" you ask as you look up, through the tears that flow out your eyes, through the grin that couldn't die down. he looks at you like you're insane, and you know he's confused, shifting uncomfortably as he gives someone a status update through the comms, his eyes never leaving your pathetic form—

you look at him like he means the world all throughout.

"call for red robin, i have one of the culprits," he orders through the intangible device, eyes squinting as he takes you in— you whose chuckles slowly calmed down, as your breathing finally becomes heavier, as blood, yours, seem to seep into clumsily made apparel. you, who bruce realized seem too oddly familiar, too small, too childish, whose moment of spiraling insanity is too damn innocent to ignore.

you're not like the typical rogue he encounters, no. and right before you finally allow sleep to overcome you, you muster the last of your energy, to stare back at him with shining eyes, expectant, and like a child's, you ask with the meekest voice.

"hey... dad, i have a surprise." scratchy, absolutely broken, yet spilling with joy, with... your last word right before you continue, bruce's heart thumps ever the slightest faster.

"take my mask off, please?"

crimson began to overtake your entire body, and bruce should've never complied with your... request, but as he kneels and finally gets a grasp of what you truly look like, he notices the frailness, the vulnerability, as if you were never built for... combat. with just how quickly you succumb to the depths of rest, with how oblivious you are to the fact that if it were anyone else, they would've killed you.

you're not properly trained, you fight out of impulse, and he knows it with just how swift you gave up midfight.

when he pulls the domino mask (which seems oddly inspired by the shape of... his vigilante partners, the robins...) off your face, did his heart finally hastened its pace, loud thumping crawling its way to his ears, his eyes registering your face: its form, its shape, your eyes, your nose—

all similar to his, all an amalgamation of your mother's, too.

no... wait, no.

it's not...

it's not his... child?

you?

your eyes, flickering one last time stared at him, softly, like that of a child who looks at their father with pride like nothing else. your hand, it shakes, it shivers, as your fingers find its way creeping to his hand, holding your mask. fingers so dainty, now pulverized bones lay atop his shivering hand, tenderly, as if trying to comfort the very same man who has nearly killed you.

batman— no, bruce looks at you. at what he's done, and only now did he realize his greatest mistake. a child, his child, one whose innocence retained through heinous acts, now a villain, whose actions were all a testimony to merely wanting their father's attention.

he failed you, his child. he failed to protect you, who he has never held up close until now— as your body is hastily taken into his arms. so small, so easily wrapped around his body, so unbefitting of committing criminal activity. now bloodied and laid into barren ground by their very own father.

bruce wayne never felt this much terror, for nearly killing his child.

this, this day marks his sin.

and you? dearest you feel like today is your greatest day.

crimson, nearly every part of you is stained with that putrid color.

yet blood has always been your best friend, no? and right now as you bleed into the arms of your father, you find yourself grateful that it is the last thing you see before a black cloak wraps around you, before black fills your entire line of sight.

short rant ahead: another author's note??? wow. yeah this was such a hard drabble to write. plsplspls leave a comment or some sort of input. anything will do. ive been so demotivated to write lately and i feel like anything i write is just, so bad 😭 like is my pacing good? are the emotions out of place? am i even doing this right ?? i don't know, and i feel like every time i post something i always put up expectations on myself that I should've done better so yeahh. is this attention seeking behavior? probably. but i don't get how people have come to like the stuff i write when i hate whatever i write hence why im in a constant cycle of hiatuses and short breaks. and really, it's just so hard to come into terms with things and i need input lest i accidentally get into a year or two of hiatus, lmaoo.

[kaita0]

Silent Whispers 

Wolverine (Logan Howlett) x Mutant!Reader 

Part Two of Silent Whispers

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Character Death, Jealousy, Logan getting slapped

AN: I DO NOT APPROVE OF ABUSE WITHIN ROMANTIC (ANY) RELATIONSHIPS!! I also got the idea from this fic by @moonpascal

The sound of blankets ruffling and the howling wind coming through a window doesn’t stop the murmurings from Logan. His body tosses and turns. At first you couldn’t make out what he was saying. You sit up in the bed, getting ready to wake him up. ��Jean” The name came out softly through his lips. If you weren’t paying attention, you would have missed it. It would’ve mixed with the flow of the wind. 

Everything in you stops as you stare at Logan’s blissful form. So many thoughts ran through your mind. After all this time, he’s still thinking about her. You can feel the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You shake your head in hopes in getting rid of the thoughts. But it was futile. “Jean…” He whispers again. In a frenzy, he begins to repeat her name non-stop. You just couldn’t take it anymore and ran out of the room. 

The next day the energy shift was obvious between you and Logan. You had begun to avoid him. It was to the point that even Ororo pulled you to aside. “Hey, What’s wrong?” You look away from her and fold your arms. “Nothing, Nothing is wrong” Storm raises an eyebrow at your words. “So why is your forehead frowning?” You use your hands to cover your forehead. “Me and my frowning forehead are out of here!” You take quick pace to leave the room, Storm right behind you. “It’s ok, you can trust me. You can tell me what’s going on! Just tell me what’s going on.” Thats when you whip around to face her, tears beginning to stream down your face. 

“He doesn’t love me, Ororo. He doesn’t love me. I will always be second place to him.” Storm’s eyebrows knit together. Everything piecing together in her mind. She takes hold of your hands, a tight grip in fear you might run again. “It’s probably not what you think. Have you tried speaking to him? You know how extreme his nightmares are.” You scoff. “You wasn’t there. You don’t know how I feel. I was laying right next to him but his mind was on another woman. Not what I think? What else is there to think? He’s been in love with her since I met him. Even before that. I’m just a placeholder.” 

Storm furrows her eyebrows. “Don’t be like that. Just talk to him.” You rip your hands away from her. “He did enough talking last night.” You are out the door before Storm could possibly say anything else. As you storm down the hall, out of the corner of your eye you see Logan. The rage that you were already feeling amplified tenfolds. You can already hear his footsteps right behind you, calling your name. You are quick to run up the stairs to your room, locking the door behind you. 

You pick up your bag from under your bed, getting ready to fill them up with your things. That’s when you start to hear the banging. Logan calling your name repeatedly. “What’s the matter? You’ve been avoiding me all day. You know I won’t understand if you don’t tell me what’s going on.” Blood boiling within your body as you angrily throw things into the bag. “Understand me? Shouldn’t you understand yourself? Maybe understand your horrible nightmares.” It goes silent for a moment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bub.” 

You zip up the bag. “Try again, James.” You make a quick pace to open the door. There Logan stands before you, confusion written all over his face. “You’re full of shit.” Logan cracks a smile. “I get that often.” Your hand whips across his smug face, causing a bit of blood dripping out of his mouth. “I get that often too.” 

You grimace at his words, tears threatening to spill once again. “Why am I not good enough for you? Why is it always HER?! Jean, Jean, Jean. It’s always about her. When am I going to be your number one? When is it gonna just be me in your heart?” 

Logan grabs ahold of you. “Don’t say things like that. I love you with everything in me.” You stare into Logan’s eyes before letting out a sigh. “Let go of me, Logan.” He reluctantly let’s go of your shoulders. You turn to pick up your bag off the bed. “I really did love you with my whole being. My heart, my soul, everything. And I am not going to be second place to someone I love.” Before Logan to respond, you (dramatically) jumped out the window and disappear in the dark. 

Marvel Masterlist

(mostly logan lol)

[misswynters]

Toxic Devotion

Jacaerys Velaryon x gn!reader

[warning: toxic relationship, yandere behavior, implied non-con touching, murder

[synopsis: You will do anything to protect jace and so does he. Getting rid of anyone who even looks at you wrong. It should be easy, right?

[note | pls don’t just like, reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned

The torches flickered along the walls of the narrow corridor, casting eerie shadows as you moved with purpose. Your blood was still boiling from the encounter, the venomous words of the your once handmaiden echoing in your mind.

"Bastard prince," she had hissed, her eyes filled with contempt. "Not fit to sit the throne, not fit to touch such noble blood like you."

Rage had surged within you, swift and deadly. Without a second thought, you had grabbed the nearest sharp object, a ceremonial dagger, and silenced her vile tongue forever. Now, as you made your way back to your chambers, the weight of your actions settled over you like a shroud, but you felt no remorse. You had done it for Jacaerys, and that was all that mattered. Nothing was more important to you than protecting his beautiful self from any harm. Pushing open the heavy door to your quarters, you were met with a sight that sent a cold shock through your veins.

Jacaerys stood over the lifeless body of your kingsguard, blood dripping from the blade in his hand. Your eyes widened, and you took a step back, but Jacaerys's gaze was fixed on you, a mix of protectiveness and ferocity in his eyes.

"He touched you," Jacaerys said, his voice low and dangerous. He was glaring at the body with disgust. "He had no right."

You looked down at the body, remembering how you had woken earlier to find the kingsguard in your bed, clearly drunk, his intentions unclear. You had been too disoriented to react, but Jacaerys had come in just moments later, his rage instant and deadly.

"He was in my bed when I woke," you whispered, the horror of the situation sinking in. "I didn't-"

"I know," Jacaerys interrupted, stepping closer to you. "I know you didn't invite him. But he dared to overstep, and he paid the price.”

You met his gaze, the intensity of his emotions matching your own. "I killed the handmaiden," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "She called you a bastard, said terrible things about you."

A dark smile twisted Jacaerys's lips, and he reached out to cup your face in his bloodstained hand. "You did it for me," he said softly, his eyes gleaming with a twisted kind of pride. "Just as I did this for you."

The silence between you was heavy with the weight of your actions, but it was also charged with a dangerous kind of devotion. In that moment, you both understood that your love was a double-edged sword, cutting down anyone who dared to come between you.

"We're bound together," Jacaerys murmured, his thumb tracing your cheek. "By blood, fire, and death. No one can tear us apart."

You nodded, leaning into his touch, feeling a strange sense of solace in his words. "No one," you echoed. As Jacaerys pulled you into his embrace, you knew that your love was as destructive as it was passionate. But in this world of treachery and betrayal, it was the only thing you could trust. And so, with bodies lying in your wake and blood staining your hands, you clung to each other, bound by a love that was both your salvation and your damnation.

The storm raged outside, lightning illuminating the dark skies over Dragonstone. Inside your chambers, the atmosphere was equally charged. You and Jacaerys lay in bed, the events of the day replaying in your minds. His arm was draped possessively over your waist, his breath warm against your neck.

"I can still see the look in her eyes," you murmured, staring at the ceiling. "The fear, the hatred. It felt...satisfying to silence her."

Jacaerys tightened his hold on you, his voice a low growl. "They all think they can judge us. They don't understand what we have, the lengths we'll go to for each other."

You turned to face him, your fingers tracing the contours of his face. "They will learn. Anyone who dares to come between us will meet the same fate."

He captured your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. "We are unstoppable, my love. Together, we will claim what is rightfully ours." The fire in his eyes mirrored your own, a shared madness that fueled your ambition. "Tomorrow, we must deal with the aftermath," you said, a hint of worry creeping into your voice. "Questions will be asked."

Jacaerys's expression hardened. "Let them ask. We'll have our answers ready. We protect each other, always."

A scream could be heard from a distance, another handmaiden must’ve founded the poor girl lying on your bed, lifeless. The sound of footsteps in the hallway made you both tense. Jacaerys sprang from the bed, moving silently to the door, his sword in hand. You followed, your heart pounding. A knock echoed through the room, and Jacaerys opened the door a fraction, revealing your most trusted servant.

"My lord, my lady," he whispered urgently. "The bodies have been discovered. The court is in an uproar." The servant was shaken up, nervously fidgeting his fingers. In fear of doing anything wrong and that also lead to his untimely demise.

Jacaerys glanced back at you, his eyes cold and calculating. "Well, i guess we don’t have much of a choice now do we."

You nodded, steeling yourself. "Let's face them, it can’t be that bad." You walked towards him reaching towards his hand, your eyes softly looking towards his, which were the opposite. Darker than they usually are.

Hand in hand, you stepped into the corridor, ready to confront whatever awaited you. The court might rage and whisper, but you and Jacaerys were a force of nature, bound by a love that was as fierce as it was toxic. And nothing, not even death, would come between you.

taglist: @benjicotblckwood

[bunnys-kisses]

Hey lovely, can I please have a butter tart with a coffee and whatever's on the house served by Lestappen?🤍

bakery menu

please request your own! there's ton of items on the menu for you to pick! (with more coming in the near future!!). *quiet voice* thank you lovely anon. basically i wanted to do a lestappen & reader three-way rivalry that would make me lose it. this order is on the house for doing me a solid, please come back another time and order again!

butter tart ("let's ruin ourselves for anyone else.") + coffee (rivals au) + on the house (aftercare) served by max verstappen & charles leclerc (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, lestappen, threesome, rivals au, dirty talk, aftercare, teasing, hot stuff (!!), various sexual acts mentioned

the sun, the moon and the stars.

the trio that ended formula one the same time. from three different parts of the world, three different past experiences and histories, but all with the same goal.

you all wanted to win. simple as that.

on camera, it felt like the three of you were in a league of your own. to settle scores that were etched into your psyche during your karting youth. max would get a little too close to charles, charles would make a snide comment before the final race, and you'd vague post about them online.

all to fuel this insatiable hunger that the media had to watch the three of you tear each other apart. a rivalry between the three celestial bodies that would tear the universe (or this case, formula one apart).

the rumours followed the three of you since you became in each other's orbit. over the past few years more images have resurfaced that only added to the "conspiracy" of your secret relationship. it was honestly quite fun to watch.

"someone tried to create a timeline in tiktok." charles shook his phone at you and max. you were both honestly impressed by how much the internet could cobble together.

a personal favourite photo of yours was a poorly saturated photo of charles and max at a club together. they both looked painfully drunk in the seats they were in. while that itself wasn't striking, what made it a favourite was that their faces were covered in kiss marks. all the way to the collar of their shirt.

this was often paired online with a few photos of you wearing the same shade of lipstick to events around the same time. it was a rich plum colour from what you remembered and you remembered that the marks didn't end at the collar of their shirts.

you had a bruise the size of a golf ball when you and charles ended up in a cramped bathroom stall.

you were thankful that some of the photos were lost to time. or rather an old hard drive on a laptop you kept buried in your apartment for fear of people finding the photos and videos. you didn't even trust a hammer to get rid of the evidence.

there was one file that was on your current phone however, that you painstakingly transferred. it was a video, you three at around twenty four, right after max's first champion win.

charles was between his legs, his mouth on max's cock while you standing beside them, filming the sexual scene while max's fingers were stuffed in your pussy. and that was one of the more tamer ones.

however, well into your racing careers. the rivalry still went strong. and sometimes, after a race. it all boiled over.

your teammate, george looked at you as he caught you leaving your hotel room. a small knapsack was filled to the brim with stuff. he sighed, "not this again. what, you're going to catch an uber and go see them?"

the relationship between you and the two other men was the worse open kept secret. you shrugged, "it's the dutch grand prix and max didn't completely fuck it up, you know how it goes."

not fucking it up meant that max won. but you couldn't give him the benefit of knowing that you lost. so, max just did well.

george replied, "just be smart... be safe, i guess. i don't know. i don't want drama because you three couldn't get along or be safe."

you replied with your best press smile, "aw, c'mon russell! the three of us are always at the center of drama. you're not new to this." he watched you turn away and head to the elevators.

at the hotel occupied by ferrari and red bull, you ended up at max's room. you bounced on your feet for a moment as you knocked. then waited for him to open the door. you then tapped your foot and almost called something before the door opened and max pulled you into the room.

he pushed you up against the back of the door once he was shut. he grabbed you by the face and pulled you into a searing kiss. you sometimes forgot how big his hands were until you had become painfully aware.

"where's charlie?" you asked when max pulled away from the kiss. you held onto his wrist for a moment.

"i want you to guess where he is." max replied.

"the fan girls swarming him."

"he was getting us some wine too." max made a face.

you replied, "well, i guess we can start without him." then started to strip when max let go of you. the two of you got naked quickly and onto the massive bed. max's hands were allover your naked body, the blankets provided some comfort against the air conditioned room.

you felt like you knew max's body as well as your own. you had touched it in so many ways over the years. you pressed yourself up against him and kissed him gently.

it really was the moon and the stars right now. but, they wouldn't be alone forever as a knock at the hotel room door pulled you away from one another. max got out of bed and answered the door.

"hey ma- why are you naked?" charles voice could be heard before he steeped in. he was pulled in by max. you moved a little bit to see through the doorway to the main room where the men were.

charles was holding a bottle of wine and smiled when he saw you. he said, "are you starting without me?" then turned to max, "you sent me out for wine so you could have first pick, right?"

"i would never! she just doesn't have the dedicated fan base you have." then headed back to the bedroom. charles followed closely behind him and was stripping his clothes. his shirt ended up with max's on the couch and his jeans were draped over some chair.

you got out from under the covers and charles almost choked on air at the sight of your naked body. not because it was horrible, but because it was just as beautiful as ever.

the sexual history between the three of you was a messy web. it felt like anyone who tried to get with one of you always failed. because if one of you tried to step out, the string that kept you tethered to one another always brought you back.

the two men got into bed with you and started to kiss at you warm skin. you felt a shudder run through you at the feeling of their lips on your skin.

"you fuckin' freaks." you purred as you giggled at the touches. you felt goosebumps across your skin as you rubbed your thighs together.

"ah what, are you mad that you came in sixth today?"

you looked over your shoulder at charles and said, "i should've ran you off the track, mister third."

max pulled your attention to him and said, "and what about me?" he chuckled as he held you jaw.

you held onto the other's shoulders and said, "ugh, i was hoping that something would come flying off. halfway through the race."

the men pressed against you even harder, their touches were getting harder. charles said, "i can't believe she said that about us. after everything we've done for her."

"i know. so ungrateful."

charles pulled your head back and pulled you in for a hot kiss. you felt both their erections up against your back which made you whine softly.

max chuckled, "i'm curious about what colours she'll end up wearing. when she is cheering from the sidelines."

you shuddered, "shut up, both of you. i'm not changing my last name and i'm sure as hell not marrying either of you." you tried to squirm out of their grasps.

but it only tightened and both men looked at each other. they could barely compose themselves and both of them started to howl in laughter, like you said the highlight of a comedy show.

"we're serious." charles said, low in your ear.

max chuckled lowly, "she'd be too stubborn, even if one of us got her pregnant, she'd give that kid her last name."

you looked at max, "yeah, exactly." and tensed up when max's finger dragged across your achy slit.

"verstappen is always available." max then pulled you in for another searing kiss and charles' voice was in your ear, the combination made your core throb. you hated how they knew all your weaknesses.

"i was thinking leclerc. i mean we'd still have this little arrangement. but i'm thinking a nice wedding in monaco, the whole thing. your team, my team, your family, my family. max."

he pulled away and said, "thanks." his tone was flat.

"no problem." he smiled at his rival before he went back to you and added, "i think it would be a lovely wedding. i think leclerc seems less... harsh than verstappen."

max rested his chin on your shoulder to look at charles, "to be good on the grid, you need a strong name." their eyes met and charles went in to kiss the other man.

you were perfectly sandwiched between them as they kissed. when they parted charles said, "don't worry, max. you can have my last name too."

you tapped your chin for a moment and said, "lovely offers you two, but i think i'm just going to stick with the last name i've had for my entire life. i don't need either of you to boost my legacy."

"right, right. it's not like you're going to marry anyone else outside of this." max said.

"oh yeah, most likely. i think we've entered the let's ruin ourselves for anyone else territory."

charles kissed the side of your neck, "don't say it like it's a bad thing."

you looked over your shoulder at him and raised your eyebrows, "i would like a husband at some point."

"then marry me." both men said in unison.

eventually the three of you got into position. your face buried in charles' lap while on your elbows and knees with max behind you. you looked up at charles who had his hand in your hair.

"you look good like this."

"next time." you said, "you're eating me out." your voice was pointed as if you weren't practically salivating at the chance to suck him off.

"there's no higher honour." he said as he held the back of your head before you started to kiss at his cock.

both men were impressive in size, not too crazy. nothing that would painfully scare someone or leave you with internal bruising.

"ready for me?" max asked.

you nodded as you continued to kiss at charles' cock. your hands on either side of his waist for leverage as you really sank your mouth down on it. you did arch your back and moan when max pushed his cock inside of you.

"neuken."

charles chuckled, he's heard that more than a few times in his life. with his hands tangled in your hair, he looked to the other man and said, "she still feels amazing."

"afraid you have competition, charles?" max replied, as if you hadn't spent time watching the two of them go after one another in the bedroom from time to time.

he made a face before he looked down to you and started to gently roll his hips. you knew exactly how to make these men squirm as you eagerly pleasured them.

max's thrusts were strong, but not fast. he was savouring his time inside of you. the tight heat of your pussy that he only found himself craving more as time went on.

you knew if the press even got a whiff of this, it would be such a media circus that you were certain that one of you would kill a reporter. that was why you still had that laptop, because the fear of the files being restored somehow even after a good wipe of the hard drive, was very real.

there were nudes of you, of max and of charles, sometimes all three of you together. there was one when the three of you were in amsterdam where it was you smoking a cigarette, presumably after sex and max was fast asleep and you were using his back to hold the hotel ashtray.

you knew there was a video of max waking charles up by putting his pussy slick covered fingers (thanks to you) in front of the man's face and whistling to him like a dog. the funny part was that it worked.

it would be a treasure trove of debauchery if anyone got their hands on it. the three of you were stupid little sex freaks, in a way you still were. except now with heftier pay checks and nice homes in expensive real estate.

you closed your eyes and let yourself just be fucked by the other two men. they were never truly mean. no slapping or hair pulling, and certainly no bruising.

you and max spent a whole season in the rumours section of gossip rags because of the amount of hickies that were seen on your neck. max even went as far as to leave one on the inner part of your wrist. charles thought that fiasco was funny, mostly because he wasn't in it.

"you feel so good." charles groaned.

max wrapped both of his strong arms around you and leaned over you, pressing you further into the bed. he rutted against you and kissed the back of you neck while you throat was full of charles' cock.

"she feels so fucking good." max said, "i think we've really lucked out. as good in the bedroom as she is on the grid."

charles chuckled, "if she was that good on the grid, she would've easily passed you today."

max kissed the side of your neck and shoved his cock as deep as it could go, "true, true." he kissed the side of your face,

the three of you moved together. the sounds of sex filled the hotel room, you had felt over the years since this started you have become more mature in your sexual proclivities. it wasn't a quick, messy fuck in some hall closet or a blow job in a car in an empty parking lot.

you three could take the time with each other. the three of you panted, moaned and groaned. you were wrapped up in the hot euphoria of sex.

the three of you were interlinked in ways that couldn't be fully explained. while it made for titillating headlines, there was a deeper under current of your relationship.

while most feuds between the two of you would be solved either through conversation or the heated moments of sex. there was a need for the three of you to push to your absolute limit.

while there were seventeen other drivers on the track, and you did have your feuds with them. you were tied to charles and max just as they were tied to you and each other.

a perfect triangle. in a strange reality where two of you were on the same team, it would be a clean sweep for the team. it was good that the three of you were on three different teams.

in all fairness, george, sergio and lewis probably would prefer the three of you somehow were on the same team. at least it would contain the bitching. (you knew they had their own group chat to figure out what the hell was going on between the three of you)

but it was hard to bitch when the three of you were in the bedroom.

both men were starting to lose steam, in all fairness, so were you. you could feel the head rush as you continued to charles' cock with max's cock hitting against your sensitive areas. you gripped the bed under you and kept it together long enough to orgasm.

charles was the first to finish, that was usually what happened. he ran so hot when he had sex that it clouded his mind and he easily finished down your throat, almost coming a second time when he saw how easily you swallowed it all up. he slumped against the headboard of the bed watched max continue to fuck you.

you were the second to cum, you gripped onto the bed wit your nose up in charles' pubic hair as you panted heavily. it was a throb in your body only made worse by max's persistent thrusting.

max watched both of his partners of a sexual bliss and continued to rut against you. he had been holding himself off to make sure that you two finished before he did. that was sort of what he did. but the sight of both of you was enough to send him over the end. and he finished inside of you with a last hard thrust.

"holy fuck." he panted as he felt the fight leave his body.

you felt a bit of your jaw ache as you laid there with your head on charles' thigh. max pulled out and got comfortable beside the other man.

charles play with your hair and said, "i think she's been spoiled."

max chuckled, "i think she's spoiled us. that was her plan all along."

you cracked an eye open at max before you leaned over to kiss him. right before you did, you said, "yeah max. it's been my evil plan for almost ten years."

max kissed you and charles' continued to play with your hair. the sun, the moon and the stars. the three celestial bodies of formula one. curled up in bed together.

-

both men laid in bed and shared a smoke while you cleaned yourself up. you always ran so painfully hot. while you got your hair out of your eyes after you dried it, you noticed that max's red bull shirt and charles' ferrari shirt were both left over the couch.

you heard both men talking in french, with the occasional sound of kissing. but your focus were on the shirts on the couch. a thought crossed your mind and you picked up your phone from the sink counter and snapped a picture.

you stared down at your phone for a moment. you should've probably pondered your options a little more before you uploaded the photo to your instagram story. "a stallion and a bull. yeah right." with a rolling eyes emoji. you posted it to your story then put your phone on silence before you headed back to the bedroom.

the fallout from that would be tomorrow's problem. <3

[sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast]

"Let Me Fuck Out my Frustration."

♡♡-Request: Frustrated Wriothesley. Does his best to rid himself of it, but when boxing doesn't work, he turns to you. His cute lover.

Content: fem!reader, rough sex, biting, blood, spanking, nipple play, p in v, unprotected sex, pussy eating, cum inside, bruises, almost 900 words, reader gives consent, little prep (he eats you out but no fingering), commanding, messy

Wriothesley liked his job. He felt it suited him. But today? It was annoying and frustrating him to no end. The intimates, for some fucking reason, really wanted to test his buttons. Most likely something to do with some new inmates. They stirred up trouble as soon as they walked through the door. Usually, he could handle it. They'd fall into line, but they didn't. 

Frustration boiled in his veins, which is how he found himself in the ring. 

Hands taped, sweat coating every inch of his body as he continuously punched the bag. Over and over. Grunting with each thrust of his fist, leaving the bag to swing before he punched it again. But it didn't help. In fact, it only made him more frustrated. He thought about asking someone to spar, but didn't want to hurt them in the process. He wiped the sweat lining his brow with the back of his arm, giving a rough sniff. He needed another outlet. 

The squeaking of the door caught his attention, your cute self walking through the door.

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you. They said you were in here."

He watched you slip under the rope, the subtle bounce of your tits as you stood back up. Another outlet, it seemed he found it. 

"Are you okay? You usually only come here when-woah!" He heard you squeak, his arms hooking under your pretty thighs as he lifted you. "Wrio-wait, what's-are you okay? I've never-ah!' He sunk his teeth into the juncture of your neck, biting so rough that he started to taste the bitter copper of your blood. Your hands dug into his shoulder in return, gasping as he let go. Moving to another patch of skin, "Frustrated. Gonna fuck you to get rid of it. Objections?" He breathed heavily through his nose, waiting for your consent. And when you gave it, he bit into your skin again. 

His dick twitching as he heard you yelp, his hands squeezed your thighs so hard his hand prints were left molded into your skin. Bruises formed but he paid them no mind. Moving his teeth to yet another patch of unscathed skin as he bit down, blood trickling down your shoulder into your shirt. "Wrio…" you sighed out, hissing when you felt his teeth graze against you once more. And in the next minute, he was leaning you against the ropes, hands tearing at your clothes and his own. Hoisting you up once more, resting your thighs on his shoulders. Wriothesley immediately dove into your cunt, lapping like a starved wolf. His fingers kneaded the flesh of your ass, pressing so hard he left bruises there too. 

He ate you until your cunt was sopping wet and ready for him to fuck you until his blood stopped boiling. 

Without wasting any time, he slid you down his thick-muscled body. Stopping you just short of his bulbous, leaking tip pressed at your entrance. His eyes scanned your face, looking for any hesitancy and when he saw none, he speared you quite quickly on his length. Your pussy took roughly half before he met resistance, pulling out to push once more. Repeating this process until he was fully seated inside you, fucking roughly up into your drooling sex. Huffing and groaning each time he felt you clamp down on him. 

"So fucking angry," he spit. Leaning forward to take your nipple into his mouth. Teasing his teeth around it, biting down until teeth marks were left. Only to slide his tongue around the wound. 

"Wrio-ah, what's…what's wrong-" you gasped, tits bouncing abruptly from the force in which he was fucking you. The rope behind dug into your back, creating a burning sensation each time you rubbed against it. "Shut up, just fucking take this cock. Do as I say," his hand pulled back, landing a harsh smack to your ass. "Yeah, like this. Use that pretty little head of yours and listen-fuck." He could slowly feel the tension being drained out of him the sharper his thrusts were. "You better make a fucking mess on this cock or I swear-" He choked on a groan, head falling forward as he continued. Nipping at your flesh, hand smacking your ass. Your body was covered in bruises, bite marks, and the red swell of his smacks. 

Wriothesley could feel his balls draw up, ready to fill you up any second. 

"Better fucking make a mess, do it. Now. Cream all over this cock." He punctuated each word in time with his thrusts, leaving you a babbling mess as your body spasmed. Your pussy contracting as you came all over him, whining loudly as he continued to fuck into your overstimulated cunt. "That's a good girl, thats a good fucking girl-gonna make me cum-fuck." His hips stilled, length pulsating as he came inside you. Hot ropes of sticky cum painted your insides. 

You both fell to the floor, his softening dick still inside you as he laid against your marked breasts. "Feel better?" You asked, still out of breath as you barely managed to raise your hand to pet his hair. 

"Yeah, much." He mumbled.

Navigation.

[mcumorningstar]

begging for more riff x reader smut 🫣 I’d love if they were in a heated argument over riff buying a gun and riff says something disrespectful to reader making her slap him and then they just immediately go at it from the heat of the moment

Bang Bang

pairing: riff (wss) x reader

warnings: 18+ minors dni, kinda toxic but kinda cute, unprotected p in v (wrap it!!), riff’s got a gun, (I think that’s everything)

a/n: sorry this took so long I was on vacation. I’ve never done a request before!! Thanks for submitting :) This was more like I don’t wanna lose you sex than heat of the moment but hopefully this is okay!!

Sinking into Riff’s lap was the perfect remedy to a bad day. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer, your pelvis pressed to his.

Usually you would be reduced to a puddle of contentment but the hard press and sharp sting of metal pushed against your lower stomach.

Pulling back, you scrutinise Riff for a moment before tugging up his shirt. A small revolver was nestled in the waistband of his jeans.

“Like Billy the Kid, don’t ya think?” Riff smirked up at you, pretending to shoot bullets from his fingers.

God, it was easy to forget, because of his troubles, but Riff was so young.

“Get rid of it,” You stared at the weapon with wide eyes, “I’m not playing around, Riff. You’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“Born to die young, baby-o,” A wide grin plastered across Riff’s cheeks, smug and teasing. He squeezed your hips but you weren’t impressed.

“You gonna be laughing when you’re on a slab in the morgue?” You tried to stand, wanting some distance between.

“Don’t think like that,” He attempted to calm your nerves and refused to let you move away, pulling you closer.

A manicured nail jabbed into his chest, “Because I sure as hell won’t. I don’t wanna be a widow before I’m a wife.”

Riff sighed, his thumb rubbing against the empty space on your ring finger. An empty space waiting for a promised ring.

“They always bring heat. We gotta be ready,” He reasoned with you but your blood boiled as he removed the gun and examined it.

You scoffed, “This shit is so stupid, Riff!” You shoved his chest and rose from his lap, storming into the bedroom.

Riff followed you with a heavy sigh and heavy footsteps. He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

“You expect me to go in there with nothing but the clothes on my back?”

“What I expect you to do is use your brain! Your daddy was in the exact same position as these Puerto Ricans you’re going to war with!”

“He was nothing like them.”

“Why? ‘Cause he speaks the language?”

It was a low blow but you wanted him to know how it looked.

“Don’t turn this into something it isn’t! This is a turf war,” Riff tried to level his steadily raising voice.

“Turf war? That slang for prejudice little boys with no jobs and nothing to do but terrorise foreigners?”

“Prej-? You know goddamn well that I’m not like that!Like you know what you’re talking about anyway! I’m not taking life advice from a hairdresser!” Riff snapped and, before he could have the nerve to feel bad, your open palm collided with his cheek.

You stood in silence for a moment as a red mark bloomed against his alabaster skin. It was not the ‘be the better person’ you were trying to drill into him, you knew that, but he pissed you off and it was almost involuntary.

“Shit” Riff jostled his jaw in all directions and rubbed a finger against his reddened ear, “You smack like my ma.”

Your hands cupped your slack jaw, “Baby I’m so sorry.”

Riff spared a glance in your direction as you stepped closer to him.

“Less of the smacking, yeah? I need my good looks or you got nothing to stick around for,” He smiled warily, “I ain’t no murderer, am I?”

You shook your head, biting your lip to hide your thrill at his decision, and smiled softly. Tentatively, you reached up and brushed your fingers against his red cheek.

“I’m sorry, baby. Never meant to damage your pretty face.”

Riff almost melted, his eyes softening, “You think I’m pretty?”

“A real diamond in the rough,” You brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead and cupped his jaw, “I couldn’t bear it if I lost you. Not for something this stupid.”

Riff pulled you closer and pressed his forehead to yours, “Never gonna happen. You’re stuck with me.”

A smile twitched at your lips. Despite the Jets, being stuck with Riff sounded heavenly. He dipped his head to kiss you softly.

“Never,” He whispered, pulling back an inch, his hot breath fanned across your lips.

“Good, because underneath it all, you’re the sweetest guy I’ve ever known. I don’t wanna lose you.”

Riff pulled you back for another kiss. A clash of tongue and teeth as the kiss grew heated. You needed him to know how true it was, needed him to know how much you needed him.

“I love you,” He panted between the hot collision of lips. A soft moan rose from your throat. Riff dropped his hands to your hips, pulling your body flush to his.

Your nails clawed at his neck, fingers getting lost in his hair.

Clothes were shed, lying in piles on the bedroom floor. Riff hovered over you as you lay back on the mattress, pressing himself between your legs.

Clinging to his bare flesh, Riff trailed open-mouthed kisses along your neck and pulled your leg higher on his hip.

His hard cock pressed against you through his boxers, as his hips began to grind against yours.

A breath moan escaped your lips, “Riff… please.”

Usually he would tease you. ‘Please what, baby?’ he would say, but not this time.

Riff nodded over and over again as he pushed down his boxers and pulled your panties down your legs. The full weight of him rested against your bare skin as your lips met again.

With tender hands holding you close, Riff pressed into you. It was slow and sweat beaded on your skin when a low groan from the man above you vibrated against your neck.

“Ugh god,” He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face further against your clavicle, littering messy kisses there.

“Move baby please,” You panted out, rubbing his back with firm fingers.

Riff pulled his hips back a few inches before rocking into you again. He pulled his head out of the shelter of your neck, connecting his eyes to yours.

His hips moved languidly, skin slapping with every collision of his pelvis to yours and pushing against that spot inside you that made your toes curl.

“I’m- I’m sorry,” Riff panted, pressing his forehead to yours, “For- for what I- I said. I love you and- and that’s never gonna change. Not for turf, not for nothing.”

The rhythmic strokes of his hips rendered you non-verbal, only capable of moaning and nodding. Your eyes fluttered closed at a particularly hard thrust.

“Look at me, baby,” Riff wrapped an arm underneath your head, the crease of his elbow and the muscle of his bicep your new pillow.

Forcing your eyes open, you met his eyes - a gorgeous swirl of blue and brown in the left.

He’s beautiful.

“Never want to be without you. What was I thinking? Taking a gun? You’re right to call it stupid, baby. So stupid” Riff rambled on. You could tell he was getting close by his loose lips.

Riff mumbled between moans, sloppy kisses and panting breaths against your skin until your chest was soaked in his spit.

It was euphoric. His hand snaked between your sweat slicked bodies, pressed so tightly against one another, to rub circles against your clit.

A loud moan ripped from you and your fingers gripped the back of his head, holding his face so close to yours that you breathed each other’s oxygen. All while staring into the starry night abyss of his eyes.

As the band inside you grew tighter and tighter, you gripped onto Riff tighter. Your legs wrapped around his waist as if he were going to be ripped from you entirely and red crescent moon imprints of your fingernails bloomed against his skin.

“I’m gonna cum. Can’t- can’t hold on,” Riff groaned, doubling down on his efforts between your legs. His thrusts were losing rhythm but he was hitting spots deep inside you and working you with his fingers.

White spots clouded your vision as the band inside you snapped, gushing onto his fingers and cock. The feeling of your orgasm pushed Riff over the edge, whimpering ‘I love you’s’ as he finished inside you.

Warmth bloomed inside you at the feeling and, as you came down from your high, a giddy grin crept onto your lips.

With heaving chests, Riff gazed down at you and a grin equal in size and feeling graced his lips.

“You were right, doll. Nothing is worth sacrificing you for.”

“Oh I’m gonna need that in writing,” You teased, stroking your fingers through his hair.

Riff laughed and playfully bit your jaw until you pushed him off, rolling around the bed with blissful laughter.

He stayed in that night. The gun was gone by the following morning and in its place sat a vase of red roses.

[kiwicopia]

🔞 MDNI | Yan!Gojo x GN!Reader (drabble) 🔞

It's been a hot minute since I've written something yandere. And I just know this man would be the most dangerous yandere.

TW: yandere tendencies, obsession, delusional Gojo, kidnapping, some violence & gore, stalking, manipulation & blackmail, reader gets put into a dangerous situation.

"I love you means you're never, ever, ever getting rid of me."

Satoru was a simple man. He often saw something he liked and just had to have it, no matter what. It was always items, though, yet this time it just so happened to be a person. You. He didn't even have to use his six eyes to know you were special. All he did was see you in a café, sipping on your beverage and nibbling on a muffin, and he was hooked. With swift steps he entered the establishment and played it off as being just another customer, all so he could see you close up. You were too caught up with reading something on your phone to even notice his glances every now and then. Oh, he could just snatch you up right here and now if he wanted to, but he decided to wait.

He followed you to your apartment that night. Just a bit of reconnaissance for a little plan he was cooking up. He knew where you lived now and would oftentimes "visit" when you were either asleep or not at home. Satoru got a feel for your dingy, little apartment. The corners of his lips curled upwards as he sat on your couch. There honestly wasn't a piece of furniture in your apartment that this man hadn't touched, and your bedroom was definitely no exception. His hand smoothed out the little wrinkles in your duvet, and his mind wandered to many thoughts. This is where they sleep. This is where they do things.

His smile only broadened when his mind grew a bit more perverse with his thoughts. He thought about what it would be like when he finally had you beneath him. The faces you'd make. The sounds falling from your lips. Oh god, it was enough to make him cum right in his pants. You wouldn't mind, though, would you? If he relieved himself in your bathroom? With your underwear wrapped around his eager cock? His only thoughts being of you. You were none the wiser of the little stains he left.

As eager as he was, Satoru was a patient man. A patient and delusional man whose only thoughts revolved around you and only you. He couldn't even do his job and take care of some measly low grade curses. He'd slip up and get a small injury, but that wasn't what would anger him. It's the fact that they had the audacity to pull him away from his thoughts about you. Any sorcerers watching could tell that their senior had gone a bit overboard with eliminating the curses, but they kept their mouths shut. In fact, they kept quiet about everything.

They knew how delusional that man was. He talked about you non-stop. Gushed over you as if he was married to you. No one wanted to tell him he was crazy. That none of it was real. "No" wasn't really a word in his dictionary. Everyone knew what would happen when he got his hands on you, but no one said or did anything. How could they? He was THE Gojo Satoru. Anyone with half a brain would know not to get in his way when he had his eyes set on something, or someone in this case.

As much patience as he had, it would wear thin some day, and that day was today. Doing another one of his little rounds of stalking following you, he was able to pinpoint the exact days and times you'd frequent that little coffee shop, amongst other places. What he didn't expect, however, was to see some man, some complete stranger, talking you up at a table. Then you laughed at one of the man's jokes. You laughed. Oh, it made Satoru's blood boil so badly that he had to fight himself from waltzing inside and killing that man where he stood. He didn't want to scare you, so he hid in plain sight and waited until the two of you went your separate ways, leaving each other with the promise of a date.

That man would never make it to the date. Satoru knew what he did was wrong, but it felt too good at the moment for him to even care. That and he just couldn't sit idly by and let you spend even a second with someone that wasn't him. Crimson stained his face, hair, and his clothes as he stared down at the torn corpse on the ground. He held no remorse for what he did. In fact, it felt liberating to have ripped someone's spine out. It was as though he was doing you a service. This man wasn't worth your time, darling, trust him. He had your best interests in mind. But he can't deny the pain he felt when showing up to what would've been the date and seeing your saddened expression. Oh dear, you poor little thing. He wanted to swoop in and hold you, comfort you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear to make you feel better, but he knew better.

The interaction part of his plan wasn't ready yet. Satoru still had some things to take care of and a home to get ready for your arrival. He was a calculated man and knew how to sever your relationships with friends and family. He wanted to leave you with no one to rely on so that when he stepped in, well, you'd just have to rely on him then. Right? His plan was flawless. Until you began suspecting things. Satoru didn't like how smart you were, but he'd be lying if he said it wasn't attractive. He started treating it like a game now. Could he cover his tracks up, or would you figure him out?

In the end, you never did get the chance to piece everything together. After all, you didn't know him, but he knew you. After two weeks of slowly manipulating your life into how he wanted it to be, ultimately leaving you with no one, he decided to wrap up his little plan. You could see curses for some reason, which he found out on one of his little jobs. This got him thinking shortly after and resulted in him throwing you into a dangerous situation that would leave him being your savior. Or so he thought.

The confident smile fell from his face when you started yelling at him. Why were you doing that? He saved you. Shouldn't you be showering him with your love and affection now? Why were you being so ungrateful? Then you turned to walk away and he snapped. It didn't take much to knock you out, but with his immense strength he had to be careful. Too much and he could've killed you. He wouldn't let this little hiccup ruin his plan. Satoru simply believed you were too high on the adrenaline rush that came from almost dying at the hands of some low grade curses, so he didn't take it personally, and he knew you'd come to your senses once it wore off.

He had a special room at his home that was prepared just for you. His sweet darling. Satoru grinned when you finally woke up, practically giddy with excitement at finally having you here. Though that excitement was short lived when you started yelling at him again. He just couldn't understand why you were being like this. Honestly, he didn't want to use force on you. He didn't want to hurt his precious darling. Instead, he resorted to blackmail. "I wonder what your parents would think if I paid them a visit," he teased, though it definitely came across as a passive threat. Or rather, a promise if you didn't comply. It warmed his heart with how quickly you changed your attitude.

Satoru finally had you. You were his now.

[authorhjk1]

Don't you think that Haewon has a face deserving of a hatefuck

I hope this answers your question.

(Disclaimer: name calling, rough face fuck, hate (fuck), something weird at the end, don't know what to call it)

Choke

(Haewon X Male Reader)

"Why the fuck did you do this? Tell me!"

You look at her, anger flowing through your vains.

It took you almost a whole month to find out that Haewon was the reason your girlfriend broke up with you. She said that Haewon told her about the one night stand the two of you once had. A meaningless night. Both of you can barely remember anything, too drunk at that time to recall your memories.

"I'm innocent!"

She yells back, crossing her arms in front of her.

"Oh please!"

You walk out of her living room, before walking right back in.

"Are you kidding me? Why did you do this?"

"I thought you already told her!"

"You thought I would tell her? That I slept with her best friend and don't even remember anything!?"

"You need to be honest in a relationship! Suffer the consequences! You have no accountability!"

"It takes two to tango, Haewon!"

You tower over her, almost screaming into her face.

"Would you let me tell your dad that you lost your innocence to a stranger in a cheap motel?!"

"Fuck you! Don't even dare!"

You stare down at her, breathing heavily.

"This mouth of yours. Why can't you just keep it shut?!"

Haewon gets on her tip toes, shoving her face into yours.

"Why don't you make me shut up, asshole?!"

Your next action wasn't planned. You didn't mean to push her so hard. You just don't like people coming too close.

With a stunned look on her face Haewon finds herself lying on her own couch.

"Yah! Did you just push me?!"

"Tell me why you told her!"

She jumps off the cushions, ready to push you back.

"Because I hate you!"

She puts her hands onto your chest, trying to shove you away. But you are too heavy and strong for her. You just feel her pressing her hands against your chest.

For a moment, you wonder why. Because of that night? Because she wanted her first time to be special?

"Stop pushing me!"

You grab both of her wrists with one hand and hold them up, making her raise her arms.

"If that's because of that night, that's on you! Just stop being a whore!"

Haewon's face twists in anger, if she had a free hand, she would've slapped the shit out of you.

"What the fuck!? How dare you? You were so small, I can barely call it sex!"

More blood rushes into your head. Your blood boils and you threaten to explode.

"I'm small? Maybe your pussy is just loose! Whore!"

"I swear to God! One more word!"

Haewon struggles against your hand.

"What are you gonna do?!"

"Fuck you! How dare you call me loose?! You are too small for any of my holes, asshole!"

"Oh really?!"

"Really!"

Haewon's eyes are wide open. They throw daggers at you, threatening to kill you.

"I bet your ass is just as loose as your pussy, slut!"

"Idiot! You're just so fucking small!"

"Maybe you stop shouting rubbish, when I stuff your slutty mouth with my cock!"

"As if! I wouldn't even feel it!"

For a only a second, the both of you stare at each other in silence. Both of you are breathing heavily.

A second later, you push Haewon again. She lands on her butt, her back pressed against the couch. Her new white rug feels soft underneath her thighs.

"I'm gonna make you choke on it!"

Your hand is still holding hers above her head.

"Don't even try! Your size is just embarrassing!"

With your free hand, you open the zipper of your pans, before letting your jeans fall to the floor.

Your bulge is only inches away from Haewon's face.

"You think this is small?"

She really seems to remember nothing at all.

Haewon growls at you, her eyes glued to your boxers.

You get rid off them too, standing in front of her half naked.

"That's nothing!"

If you weren't that angry, you would've noticed that Haewon's voice has become a little higher.

"Shut your trap, you slut."

You grab her head with your free hand. Pulling Haewon's face into your crotch, you thrust forward.

Parting her lips, you feel them glide along the length of your shaft. You hear her choke a second later.

"Is it too big for you, huh!?

Haewon glares at you as she tries her best not to suffocate.

You are confident, because you remember at least one moment from that night. It's the only one, but it's engraved into your memory.

A picture of Haewon on her knees, your cock resting on her face.

"You are fucking huge! This is never gonna fit!"

No guy would ever forget those words, especially if its a half naked Haewon that says them.

"Finally peace and quiet."

You groan, your cock deep down Haewon's throat. The young woman keeps glaring at you, but she takes your fucking like a pro. Her cute face is slowly starting to become a mess with every one of your thrusts.

First it's her spit that ruins her gorgeous image. It begins to fall out of the corners of her mouth, staining her thighs and the new rug. Some drops get on her black hoodie.

After a couple of more thrusts, her hair starts to stick to her spit covered face. To her forehead and her adorable cheeks. Tears start to form in her eyes, but she keeps glaring, not wanting to admit the obvious.

You now use both hands to pin hers behind her back and pressing her against the sofa. This way, Haewon can't move her hands and you have two free ones. With one, you grab a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back. It hits the couch, which makes her look up a little. You adjust your stance, which gives you an even better angle.

Gag after gag echoes through her apartment. You use Haewon's mouth to blow off all the build up frustration. You take it all out on her pretty face. That your girlfriend left you, that Haewon was the reason and that she told you you are small.

The young woman feels how her throat is getting bruised. Every thrust of yours hits her like a truck. Her head is getting pushed against the couch as she is forced to look up at you.

"Not talking anymore, are we?"

You place both of your hands on either side of her cheeks and start to pull her onto your cock again.

"Why is that?"

Your thrusts make Haewon's eyes roll for a moment, before she focuses back on yours.

"Don't know what to say?"

Haewon barely manages to shake her head. It's obvious she is trying to say something, but she is unable to do so.

"Or are you admitting that I'm big?"

She tries to shake her head again, but you hold her in place, only fucking her harder.

Streaks of tears start to reach her cheeks and your hands, before they flow down to her chin. They are being mixed with her saliva, before big drops fall onto her thighs and the white fur that is her rug.

"Or rather more than just big?"

She tries to open her mouth wider, trying to speak. You use it as an invitation to thrust deeper, feeding her even more of your cock. Your tip hits the back of her throat, the feeling sending sparks along your spine.

"Admit it."

You push her head back into the couch, before forcing yourself even further. Now you are fully inside of her. Your balls grazing her spit covered chin.

"I'm the biggest you've ever had."

Haewon's eyes are glassy by now.

She tries to keep calm as she doesn't get any air at all. Your cock is stuffing her mouth and throat completely.

The two of you stay like this for a couple of moments. As if time has stopped. A silent battle. Your eyes throwing daggers at each other.

Both if you brake the stalemate at the same time.

Haewon caughs and chokes, almost forcing you out of her completely. You decide to give her a breather, pulling out your entire length.

Your cock is covered in a thick layer of her spit. Her breaths are heavy.

"What-"

She caughs again.

"What the fuck?"

You reach down, holding her chin with your hand. You squeeze a little, squishing her cheeks in the process.

"Tell me how big I am. Or I'm gonna unload all my frustration down your throat."

A sparkle you can't read glistens in her eyes.

"You are still an ass."

You can't take Haewon seriously like this. Her face a complete mess. Hair sticking to her spit stained skin, tears still slowly rolling down her cheeks.

"Are you finally giving in?"

Haewon scoffs.

"Never."

You take her head into both hands again, forcing your cock past her lips.

"I can do this all day, slut."

You start to fuck her face again. Once more, your emotions overwhelm you. Sadness, anger, frustration. All of it, you take it out on her.

After a minute or so, you feel Haewon's hands on your thighs. You didn't even catch her getting them out from between her back and the couch. Her cold fingers rest on your skin, her nails leaving small half moons. She seems to be pulling you in, but push you away at the same time. As if she is fighting herself.

"I'm gonna ruin you. The whole day."

It's only the middle of the day and you don't have any plans so far.

Haewon looks up at you. Either telling you that she has other plans already, or asking you to fuck her harder.

You keep stuffing her mouth with cock, her lips keep gliding along the length of your shaft over and over again.

You finally feel a familiar feeling.

And so does Haewon. She feels how you start to twitch inside her mouth.

"Gonna cum!"

Her nails dig even deeper into your thighs.

You groan, ramming into her as deep as you possibly can.

Rope after rope of your cum enters Haewon's body. It paints her walls and runs down her throat. Some lands on her tongue, making her take in your taste.

Haewon starts to caugh at the amount of cum you are putting into her. One gag. Another gag. It almost sounds like she is gonna throw up.

Your eyes widen in astonishment as you watch your cum slowly oozing out of her nose. Streaks of your semen leave her nostrils, heading towards her lips.

Haewon looks surprised herself. She keeps on choking, while trying to see what's going on.

It seems like she is caughing up almost all of your cum. But because your cock is sealing her mouth, your cum needs to find another way.

Thick globes of it leave Haewon's nose, staining her cute face even more.

As you calm down, you slowly pull out, still amazed at what you did to her.

"Fuck you are hot."

Haewon glares at you, scooping up some of the liquid that is building up right above her lips.

"You are still an ass."

Only now you realize how exhausting this was. You breath heavily.

"Are you giving up already? After insulting me?"

You raise an eyebrow.

"You proved that your cock is not small."

Haewon wraps her hand around your member.

"Now let me prove how tight I am."

[sweet-honey-fruit]

Wanted

Boothill x reader

Synopsis: Boothill has a wanted poster with your face on it

This is a snippet from what I was going to do. I might turn this into a series.

Warnings: boothill typical violence, cussing, boothill’s substitute cuss words, use of guns, mentions of splattered brains (but doesnt happen)

Masterlists: xxx

Out of bullets. Out of backup. Shit shit shit. You’re normally better than this. You are better than this. You wouldn’t have secured a job to personally work beside the Ten Stonehearts if you sucked at it. So why now? When it truly mattered, why start losing grip now?

The hallway on the space station was long and agonizing. It’s slim but somehow you still feel like prey in an open field. The grip you have on your gun is tight despite the blasphemous thing being out of ammo. How the metal is digging into the palm of your hand is the only thing keeping you grounded and focused. Focused on making it to the safe room. Focused on sending out that distress signal. Focused on the little hope you have left. Just focus.

The distant sound of gunshots urges you to run faster. Each round of shots fuels not only your need to escape but your overwhelming guilt as well. Normally you stay back and handle the threat. You stay back to help your agents and get them to safety. That's what you wanted to do. Yet the sight of seeing bodies upon bodies being thrown to the side by him, you started to, selfishly, second guess if you should.

What pushed you to get out was Jade's voice speaking through your earpiece. She specifically ordered you to run and to get to the safe room. She all but hinted that this was surely a fight you couldn’t win and you needed to get out now. She's normally calm and collected, tactical and calculating. Jade isn't one to order you to retreat for she has trust in your abilities. So when she told you to run, you ran like hell was after you.

For once, you prayed to the Amber Lord. Praying that your colleagues will make it out alive. Although, you doubted that.

The weight of your conscious is almost enough to weigh down your speed but once the familiar doors of the safe room enter your sight, all weight is washed away and it’s replaced with relief.

Finally, after minutes of running and dodging bullets, you’ve made it. You take deep breaths to calm your breathing as a shaky hand swipes your keycard over the mechanical padlock. With a loud beep that makes you internally cuss it out, you slip into the room. The moment the door shuts you collapse to your knees.

“Holy fuck.” You mumble, letting out a nervous laugh. Your gun clatters to the floor beside you as your hand loses the strength to continue the death grip. You run your hand over your uniform to try and soothe the ache that replaces the cold metal. What a shit show.

You have faced an astronomical amount of enemies throughout your line of work. Anywhere from the Anti-Matter Legion to Galaxy Rangers. All of them were a pain to deal with, sure, but this? This is something different. You have never seen someone so precise, so quick with a gun, and so cocky. Recalling everything just made your blood boil. It’s not even because he ambushed your crew. It was more of the fact that he was moonwalking while doing so. Honestly, who acts so casually in a fight?

Pass it off with humor all you want, but you know exactly why you’re left shaken. This was the work of one individual. The same individual that made eye contact with you in the lobby. His grin widened when you locked eyes, and his bullseye pupils seemed to have made you the target. It was chilling. The way your body tensed and the hairs on the back of your neck stood was foreign to you. You’re normally the hunter but in the moment you felt like prey. That feeling was followed up by Jade's command and it felt too much like an omen. Like all of this was for you. All of this was because of you.

You shake your head to get rid of those thoughts. No. There’s no reason why you should dwell on the situation. Only doing so will drag you down. With weakened legs you stand, stumbling over to the command terminal to send a distress signal out. You hesitate for a moment as you stare down at the screen. The blinking red of the button haunted your memory.

The bodies of your coworkers. The blood of the agents you were supposed to watch over on Jade's behalf. The screams of pain and terror as they tried to take down the threat that snuck onboard. No matter how hard you try, you can't push down that culpability. Your mind races at a million miles per hour, from one thought to the next, all about your irresponsibility. You tried to save who you could. You tried to take down the threat yourself. You shot so, so many bullets all for naught. Then he looked at you. Made a beeline for you. Was he here for you? Was this all your fault? Where did you go wrong? Why didn't you try harder to save the agents that were trusted to your care? Are you even worthy of saving?

Your breath hitches at the last question.

'Am I worth saving?'

Even so, that decision isn't up to you. It's up to the Ten Stonehearts. With reluctance, you press the button. There's a gentle ping that was supposed to reassure you that the distress signal was successfully sent. But all it did was make your gut twist with anguish. It shouldn't only be you in this room.

Your sorrowful eyes stare out the window with a glaze. In all of your times of need, it has always been the stars that brought you comfort. Always a shining, shimmering light in the dreadful place of your mind. For the first time since this morning, your mind goes quiet as you imagine yourself walking among the stars. You enjoy the tranquility of the safe room, taking the opportunity to worship the silence. No screaming, no commands, no gunshots.

Wait.

.

.

.

No gunshots.

Your moment of peace is ripped out of your hands and replaced with your heart dropping. Your breathing stops and slowly, ever so, you turn your head to look behind you.

Oh fuck.

There he is in all of his cowboy glory. The barrel of his gun is pointed right between your eyes and there isn’t a hint of hesitation on his face.

“Don’t tell me ya hidin’ from my welcome party.” His thick southern accent lays on thick at the realization of it all; you haven’t been fucked like this in a long time. Your gun is left on the floor. Even if it is out of ammo, you still could’ve potentially used it as an empty threat. You quite literally backed up against a wall. Alone. The only exit is being blocked by the blood-thirsty cyborg man in front of you. There’s no one left to provide backup.

That feeling creeps up your spine again as his eye pierces through you, just itching to pull the trigger on you.

"Is this what they consider southern hospitality?" You sarcastically ask, a glare settling into your eyes in hopes of masking that premonition deep within your bones.

There's a skip of a beat in your heart when there’s silence. A thick, heavy silence that only grows louder the longer you stare down the barrel of the pistol. It’s only broken by his boisterous laugh. A laugh that feels mocking. A laugh that makes you feel offended that you opened your mouth. You go from scared, to confused.

“Oh shucks! You got me gatherin’ tears in my eye! Holy fudgin shirt on a rag! It’s been a while since I had someone tell me a one-liner like that. You’re a hoot and a holler!”

He finds this humorous. He has a gun pointed between your eyes, eager to splatter your brains across the window behind you, and he finds this funny. You go from scared, to livid.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Ha! At least one of us can say it-“

“Are you fucking serious? You murdered my coworkers, you’re threatening me, and you’re laughing?”

“Don’t go actin’ all high and mighty now, you IPC scum.” His mood switch gave you whiplash. What was once a lighthearted tone was turned into a low growl. He took one step forward, then another, and another until his chest was pressed up against yours. His breath fans over your face. Your back presses up against the command terminal. The soft red blinking of the distress button reflects off the shiny metal of the gun as he presses it against your forehead. Even so, the indignation coursing through your body is enough to fuel a stellaron.

“You shouldn’t be acting all righteous either. Wanted criminals don’t deserve to act so pompous.” You snap back, huffing out a breath.

“So ya know who I am?”

“Unfortunately.”

Boothill might as well be a cursed name among the IPC. A name that brings both fear and a migraine. You never had the courtesy to meet him until now. His wanted poster has been sitting on your desk for a while along with his list of crimes. The stack was so big that his crimes were used as a paperweight for a while. While he was annoying, the Ten Stonehearts put you on missions that were ‘more important.’ His information served more as a warning rather than a task.

Now you regret not going after him when you got the chance.

“It appears my ruckus has paid off.” He whispers, lowering the gun. You had a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, that that was a sign he was leaving. That the distress signal wasn’t needed after all. He only allowed you enough relief to let out a shaky sigh.

The tip of the gun is pressed under your chin, tilting your head back to fully look up at his smug smirk.

“It’s a shame your wanted poster says wanted alive.”

Your eyes widen in his swift movements. With harsh movements, he slams the grip against your temple. There’s a burning, aching pain that spreads throughout your head and down the back of your neck. Your body falls to the floor with a harsh thud. You couldn’t help but think this is what you deserved for failing them all.

‘Am I worth saving?’ It appears the universe made that decision before your higher-ups.

Boothill kneels beside you, placing his gun back into his holster.

“Don’t ya worry. Ima take good care of ya.”

[some-bunniii]

Lucifer dotes on a pregnant!reader [Sneak Peek]

you can find the original prompt here! fem!reader with no use of y/n.

EDIT: Full fic here!

take this little (unedited) blurb from my upcoming longfic! it’s another big one folks, maybe as long as my soul deal fic when it’s finished. character building underneath all that fluff y’know. i’m 13k words in and still going strong, so stay tuned!

“So…. I was a little bored last night,” Lucifer started, adjusting his long collar nervously as you regarded him with a quirked brow, “and, well, seeing as you didn’t have much for the baby, I thought I could give you a hand, soooo I made you this!”

His arm quickly lifted towards you, and you leaned forward to get a look at the small object in his hand.

Nestled in Lucifer’s palm, was a small, yellow rubber ducky. Your eyes widened, breath hitched, as your gaze flicked from the toy to Lucifer, then back to the ducky adorned with a small, white hat. He watched your reaction intensely, and at your silence he cracked an awkward grin.

“For the little one, in case you didn’t have anything for them. It’s even got a little baker's hat, since I know that’s kind of your thing.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you took the duck gingerly from his hand, turning it over as you traced the outline of the beak, the cute little hat, and finally the adorable tail feathers curled at its back. It stirred something in you, your stomach swimming with emotions that were threatening to bubble up and consume you while staring at the toy.

He made this… for your baby? As a gift to you? 

That was so sweet of him, and not even Charlie had given you something so thoughtful. Sure, she paid for a majority of your baby necessities—which you owed her your life for, no matter how much the girl disagreed—but she never presented you with something made from the heart like this.

Lucifer did, though. Even if he made a million matching yellow duckies beforehand, he still made this one specifically for you. Had your ex ever cared enough to do something like this for you? You couldn’t recall. And yet, a man who was practically a stranger before you was the one to care enough.

Fuck, you were about to cry. You tried to steel yourself, holding back tears. 

You met Lucifer’s gaze after a few moments, as you softly stroked the little toy with your thumb. The fallen angel only grimaced at your reaction, his smile faltering slightly as he watched your eyes well with tears and your lip start to quiver.

“Do you hate it?” He asked slowly, and you began sniffling softly hiccups building in your chest as you blinked in confusion.  

“Hate—hic—It? Why would you think…?” You started, before you felt tears welling up underneath your chin, and dripping softly onto the ducky close to your chest. 

You mentally slapped yourself, of course Lucifer would think you disliked it with how emotional you were being. Shame ate at you after that. Here the King of Hell was, thinking about you and your baby and making something in his own free time, only for you to reward him with tears.

Curse these hormones!

Now, the quiet sniffles that escaped you were from both sadness and delight, as you clutched the rubber ducky closer to your chest. The tears spilled faster from your cheeks, wetting the ground beneath you. A few droplets landed on your exposed arm, and its cool touch was a welcome sensation from the heat boiling underneath your skin. 

“I-I-I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” you finally breathed, rubbing a hand across your face to get rid of the tears, before you inhaled a sharp breath to calm yourself, “I’m sorry for being such a… such a—”

You clamped your mouth shut, trying to rope in the last bit of control you had over your emotions that were threatening to come undone. You sucked in a large, sputtering breath and Lucifer leaned back, just as your lips quivered violently.

“—a wreck!” you wailed after that, placing your free hand to your mouth to try and hold in your sobs.

Lucifer jumped slightly, closing in the small distance between the two of you as he rushed to your side. He bit his lip, his hand reaching towards you to give comfort, before he hastily pulled it back.

“Wait, no! You’re not a wreck, you’re completely fine. Perfect, even! Oh, please don’t cry…” 

The man was starting to pace as you held a hand to your mouth, slowly but surely clamping down on your outburst of emotion.

“Here, have another one!” A second rubber ducky appeared with a red burst of smoke, landing softly into his palm as he lifted it towards your face, “Don’t worry I have a lot more at home!”

The duckies cute little apron, displaying a cookie and two tiny wooden spoons in the shape of an X, only made your lip quiver more violently. Lucifer slowly pulled the third ducky behind his back and out of view, staring at you with concern as you tried to catch your breath.

“It’s so cute!” you gasped through the tears, before rubbing your eyes once more.

“You think so?” He replied in disbelief.

You nodded your head vigorously, smiling through the tears as you clutched both ducks to your chest. Lucifer slowly caught on, before breathing a large sigh of relief like he just avoided doomsday.

“Are… you two okay?” Came a familiar voice from the edge of the room. You turned your head to see … 🫣

ah, the wonders of hormonal pregnancy changes! sorry for the wait 😔 health issues have arisen and the motivation to write plummets when you’re in pain, but don’t worry, i’m still writing everyday and it should be out soon <3

thanks for the patience 🤍

[malum-forev]

jealousy, jealousy

Summary: You're usually someone who preaches love but there's something about a new recruit that makes your blood boil.

Jealousy isn’t part of your vocabulary, it never has. So when you started dating Bucky you assumed it wouldn’t be a problem. Of course you noticed the widened eyes and hushed words people- men and women alike, Buck’s got game left and right- whenever the two of you would walk into restaurants. When you started pointing it out to him, he would always say: “It’s not cause they like my looks sweets, they’re afraid of me.”

Maybe at first that was the case but definitely not now, the public’s perception of Bucky turned positive. From terrifying Winter Soldier close all your doors to I’ll set my house on fire just to get a look at Daddy Sarge.

And there wasn’t anyone who loved teasing him about it more than you. Some nights, whenever he’s been especially annoying you would search his tag on twitter and read what people post about him. His cheeks would burst red and he would bring the comforter up to his face.

“Could you please stop with that!” He groaned but a smile tugged at his lips. “You know it gives me a weird feeling!”

“I would love to see the Eiffel Tower, they say Paris is beautiful this time of year. @BuckyBarnes @SamWilson.” You giggled as you brought your phone closer to your boyfriend.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Do I even want to know what that means?”

“It’s-well- kind of when you-“ You pursed your lips and made a triangle shape with your hands. Maybe a visual aid would help?

Bucky grabbed both of your hands and brought them to his lips. “Can you please put me out of my misery?”

But today was very different, it had been for a few weeks now. There was something about the new brunette agent that rubbed you the wrong way. Maybe it was that she was currently rubbing Bucky’s bicep. 

Jealousy does not exist in my world. My happiness comes from within me. There is no jealousy in true love. 

You repeated this over and over in your head, raising the speed on the treadmill and focusing on the windows in front of you. You were not going to focus on the fact that there was a hot pink nail polish wearing agent openly flirting with your boyfriend. Definitely not focusing on that. 

Your heartbeat started to rush as you kept on running, seeing red. No mantra was enough, you wanted problems. You were going to go up to her and pin her down on the floor until she was patting on the mat, taking her last brea-

“You okay?” Natasha asked, placing her hand on your lower back to stabilize your body as she lowered the speed on the treadmill. “It looks like you’re trying to challenge the speed of light over here.”

You took a deep breath to calm your anger and looked at the redhead with a smile. “I’m trying to get rid of all my- you can call it extra energy.”

Natasha threw her head back with a laugh. “Bucky training the new recruits?”

“This hasn’t happened before, I’m usually very chill about everything. But there’s something about this one.” You said, forcing your eyes onto Natasha’s instead of behind you. Where they were now about to start sparring. 

Natasha’s eyes traveled from yours to behind you. “If that’s the problem then I strongly suggest you don’t look now.”

You turned your head just enough to see the young recruit asking for your boyfriends hand to stand up, putting her other hand on his shoulder as she came up. You heard her giggle as she draped her arm over his shoulder and started complimenting his new shorter haircut. But the thing that threw you over the edge was how she placed her palm against the back of his neck. 

“Excuse me.” You said to Natasha, ripping open the pocket on the left side of her tactical suit and taking out one of the small knives you knew she hid. “I just need to borrow this for a second.”

Before Natasha could even get a word out you planted both of your feet on the gym floor and sent the knife flying in between Bucky and the new agent’s face and landed on the wall behind them. Bucky leaned back a little as he felt the air rushing when the knife passed him, turning to face you with a stupid smug smile. The recruit on the other hand, fell to the floor and clutched her chest. 

Nat tried and failed to swallow her laugh.

You brushed past Bucky and the agent, who was still on the floor. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“You should really work on your aim. Someone could have gotten hurt.” She shot you an annoyed look as you un-stabbed the wall. 

You turned on your heel and debated your answer. 

Actions speak louder than words. You thought. 

Without breaking eye contact with the woman, you sent the knife flying right to the spot next to her head. With no effort the blade stuck to the foam flooring. 

“I have perfect aim.” You smiled walking past Bucky who was biting the inside of his cheek to suppress his smile.

“Are we still on for dinner Sweets?” Bucky asked, the sides of his lips curving upwards. 

“7:30, don’t be late.” You said without turning to him. 

---------

Part 2: jealousy, turning saints into the sea

Wanna read more like this? Here’s my latest post. 💖

Author's Note: Kinda short but I hope you guys liked it! As always my requests are always open!! Be sure to comment, like and reblog if you like!!💖💖🦾

[tcustodisart]

Connecticut Tav | Wood Half-Elf | Beast Master Ranger

So, this is my sheet for @bareee's @tav-dex. Went a little overboard and made a whole ass character sheet (man the last time I made one of those was so long ago). I want to write something about my cringe boy so. Buckle up because it's going to be long and poorly written (I suck at writing).

One edit because I'm a dummy, his alignment is neutral good not true neutral idk why I did that.

He was born and raised in his mom's and step-dad's tavern called Crow's Perch (not as fancy as Elf Song but in a different category as Blushing Mermaid)(the tavern thing is just for the sake of a joke that the most popular drink they serve is called 'Connecticut Water'). He has an older brother, who's a bard. Despite the description for Urchin background ("After surviving a poor and bleak childhood") he had a happy childhood, filled with love and support. The two brothers treated the whole Lower City as their playground: breaking into places just for fun, pick pocketing nobles, climbing Wyrm's Rock Fortress etc.

His love for beasts and creatures of any kind comes from the stories told by his step-dad (both him and Tav's mom are retired adventurers). Step dad was the one who told Tav about Darkmaw the Wicked *wink wink*.

At one point he got tired of the city life and decided he wanted to become a ranger. After successfully fulfilling some contracts he became so confident of his skills he tried to build a trap all by his own. The trap exploded right into his face (he himself has no idea how it didn't kill him or damaged his eyes). After that he was sulking in his hunting hut for a month. The experience humbled the boy. Most of his adventuring prior to the nautiloid could just be boiled down to hanging around one village and talking local boars out of destroying potato fields, and occasionally getting rid of poachers.

Before the abduction he was on his way to Baldur's Gate to see his family (which he hasn't seen in months).

Trivia (because it's easier to write stuff this way):

His hair started to go grey at the start of Act 3 from the weight of responsibility and stress.

In Act 1 he was corresponding with his family thanks to Faust. After entering The Underdark he stopped sending letters (In Underdark because it would be hard, in Act 2 because he didn't want the bird to be killed by Shadow Curse).

Despite being close to his family in Act 3, he didn't visit them or send any messages in fear that Gortash and/or Orin would hurt them.

He carries with him a razor and some fancy oils for his beard.

His brother wrote one ballad about him, soon after that Tav forbid him from writing more (it was very much not accurate).

His step-dad taught him how to fight with a sword, while his mom taught him archery and the art of stealth.

Tav's biological father died when he was very young so he has barely any memory of him.

Tav's a walking Merlin app, he can identify any bird by just listening to it.

He loves climbing trees. Either to rest on a branch or to scout the surroundings.

He loves picking up herbs and making potions.

Despite growing up in a tavern he's not much of a drinker.

He's very self-conscious about his height and chest-to-belly area. He tries his best not to show it.

At one point he was persona non grata at Sharess' Caress.

He enjoys fishing.

Sir Daisy Dewdrop Fluffington is a name of his childhood plush.

He knows how to play lanceboard (he often plays against Gale and tries to teach it to Wyll).

He draws in his journal. He drew all of his companions at least once.

He almost cried when Jaheira called him 'cub' and almost called her 'mom' in response.

He's scared of Lae'zel. But tries his best to understand and help her.

He had countless heart-to-hearts with Karlach.

In his journal he described Astarion as 'his equal on the battlefield'.

[disturbedwoodelf]

🌶️ Moonstruck 🌶️

Warnings: cursing, asshole!Matt, Dom!Matt, party, enemies to lovers, best friends brother, mentions of drinking/drugs, smut, fingering, male receiving oral, face fucking, female receiving oral, p in v, unprotected sex, spanking, choking, slight degradation kink, praise kink, slut shaming, squirting, overstimulation. Just all around rough & nasty smutty smut smut sMUT.

masterlist

Part 2?

You knew from the moment you met him, you hated him and everything he did.

His smirk, his smile, the way he did everything he could to make sure you were watching him. He always did everything in his power to make you hate him. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel a sort of attraction towards him. His hair, and the way he would put his fingers through it.

God, his fingers. Every time you’d see him hold the steering wheel like his life depended on it and his fingers would tap against it, going along with the beat of the shitty trap music that Chris chose for the night, you couldn’t help but imagine them inside you. You’d just assumed that you were so sexually frustrated that you were just making up the hate in your head. But when he would make his comments, it reassured that hate.

Which brings you to now

The music was loud, people were dancing, the room was filled with the shitty smell of weed and cheap beer, there were people on the coffee table, snorting god knows what. You’re 4 shots in and the cup in your hand was filled with your liquor of choice for the night, hoping to somewhat get rid of the feelings you undoubtedly have for him.

You were wearing skin tight little black dress, tights and black boots, and if we’re being honest, you didn’t wear any underwear in hopes of meeting someone to take your mind off of Matt.

You see your best friend, Nick in the kitchen, grabbing a cup and filling it with water, and you make your way towards him.

“Hey, babe.” You say to him, he smiles at you. You two continue talking, smiling at Chris in the corner with a girl, trying his hardest to flirt. You both are assessing the situation, and you see her nudge his shoulder jokingly, and he takes that opportunity to snake his arm over her shoulder. The two start to walk upstairs, giggling.

You both high five each other, Nice job Chris.

Unfortunately, the moment was ruined when you see him, and he sees you. “Ugh.” He says as he walks past you, grabbing a beer from the cooler. “Ugh? Why’d you ‘ugh’ me?” You ask, mocking his tone, he slams the cooler down, and opens the bottle, “because you are so insufferable.” Nick takes this opportunity to walk away, fed up with constantly hearing you two bicker. “I’m insufferable? You’re the one who always goes out of your way to make some kind of comment towards me, so what is it now?”

“It’s the the way you’re dressed. You always try way too hard, you’re obviously asking for it.” this made your blood boil. “I’m asking for it?! What am I asking for?!” You yell to him, “you’re obviously asking to be fucked tonight. It’s honestly so disgusting, you’re such a slut, all the time.” Fuck. Hearing him say that made you wet immediately, you cross your legs, in order to try and hide your arousal, “let me guess, that turned you on?”, you look down, face a crimson red, biting your lip as you look down at your feet. Matt grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him, “i think you need to be taught a lesson, hm? What do you say about that?”, you immediately shake your head yes, “I need to hear the words come from your mouth, princess.” He says, “fuck, yes. Yes, teach me a lesson, please Matt.” He grabs the cup from your hands, slamming in on the counter, along with his.

He takes your hand, leading you up the stairs, opening his bedroom door, pushing the two of you into it, and locking the door behind him. “You need to be taught a lesson, yeah? Let’s see how well you listen you fucking slut.” He throws you on the bed, “I need to make sure you’re okay with this. Do I have permission to touch you, princess?”

“Yes, Matt. All of it.” He walks over to the side of the bed, grabbing your face in his hands, kissing you roughly. You whimper out in relief, finally fulfilling that need you’ve had for him. He grabs your throat, applying slight pressure, cutting off your breath. He continues kissing you for a few seconds before making his way onto the bed as well, lying on top of you, kissing your lips. He grabs your hand, squeezing it tightly, making his way down to the crook of your neck, kissing and leaving dark bruises to form. He takes your other hand, lightly squeezing your tit, rubbing his hand over your nipple, “Matt, please, touch me more.” He immediately makes his way down to the bottom of your dress, lifting it off of your sweaty body, “no underwear? Such a fucking slut.” He hisses.

He takes his hands, rubbing your inner thighs, inching his was closer to your heat, teasing you. “Pleas, Matt, touch me already.” You whine, not being able to take it anymore, “such a fucking slut for me, princess, hm?” You nod you head quickly, he takes his hand, lightly smacking your heat, “use your words princess,” you moan out, “fuck, yes, m’ such a slut you you Matt. Only you.” He takes that opportunity to roughly tear the crotch of you tights. He puts his middle and index finger in his mouth, getting it wet with his salvia and taking his hands and placing them on your wet folds, “so fucking wet for me already.” He says through gritted teeth, rubbing the insides of your folds, avoiding your sensitive clit purposely to tease you.

He finally makes his way down and shoves his head in between your thighs, and starts sucking your clit, he takes his right hand and sticks his middle and index finger inside your cunt, curling at an ungodly rate. Your let’s start to shake as you feel your orgasm coming.

He takes his other hand and holds down your thighs, as you start lifting them to relive the pressure, he starts moaning when he feels you pulse underneath him, your orgasm beginning. Suddenly, he removes his face, slapping your sensitive clit, causing you to whine out in frustration. “No coming yet, princess,” he then places his fingers between your folds, taking your wetness and placing it in your mouth “I made you this wet, didn’t I? Suck them, princess. I want you to know how you taste.” After you suck his fingers clean, he gets up from the bed, and takes his belt and jeans off, “come on princess, get on your knees.” You comply, and get off the bed as well. He takes off his boxers, his already hard cock springing free and hitting his stomach, and uses his hand to pump it, “come on baby, I wanna feel your mouth around me.”

You take his cock into your hands, pumping up and down as he groans. You lick a stripe up his cock, starting at the base, and then start licking the tip, “fuck, just like that y/n.” You then take his cock into your mouth, pursing your lips and sucking, jacking off what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, “fuck, ‘s good baby.” He grabs your hair from behind you, creating a ponytail and pulling you away from his cock, “you’re too soft with it babygirl.” He then stars fucking your face, making you take every inch of his cock. You gag every time it hits the back of your throat, tears streaming down your face as he barely lets your breathe; but you can’t help but feel turned on as you see his eyes squeezed closed, his mouth agape and him speaking all kinds of profanity. Knowing that you were making him feel that good, he starts to twitch in your mouth, but pulls out before he can cum.

“Back on the bed, I want to cum in that pretty pussy of yours.” He demands, you comply, lying back down on the bed. He makes his way over to the bed, and out of nowhere flips you over with one hand, “on your hands and knees princess.” You get onto your hands and knees as he gets on the bed, jerking himself off. He takes his cock, up to your pussy, teasing your wetness. “Do you deserve it baby? I don’t think you do.” You moan out, almost in defeat. “I do Matty, please.”

“Hmmm. I don’t think you do. You came here looking like such a whore, and I don’t think it was meant for me.” It wasn’t. But, it was to keep your mind off of him, “I just wanted to get you off my mind. I’ve been craving your cock since the moment I met you.” You whine, arching your back, craving some kind of contact. “Is that so? I guess it’s mutual, baby. Every time I see your pretty tits, I can’t help but imagine what they’d look like with you bouncing on my cock. I jerk off to every picture you post. I can barely contain myself when you’re in the room.”

“Please, Matty, I-i need it.” You whine, he then takes that as an invitation and shoves his cock into your pussy harshly, not letting you adjust before roughly grabbing your hips. You moan out in relief, “oh fuck Matty, oh my god.” He continues to furiously fuck you, “that’s my little slut. You’re only allowed to be my slut.” He reaches down and grabs your hair, pulling it into a ponytail once again and roughly pulling it to the point that you think he’s going to pull all of your hair out.

He takes his free hand and roughly spanks it with every thrust, creating red welts. “Oh fuck, Matty I’m gonna cum.” He fastens his pace, “you’re not allowed to cum without me, keep going baby, you’re doing so good. I’m so proud of you.” This is about to make you lose your minds you feel your legs start to shake, “fuck I’m gonna come too baby,” you feel his cock start to switch, signaling he’s coming undone, “cum for me princess, come on, cum all over my cock.” He moans out as you feel his warm cum fill you up, he’s a groaning and moaning mess, his thrusts are becoming sloppier, overstimulating himself, “c’mon baby, I know you can cum too.” Eager to make you cum, he reaches down and does rough circles on you clit, sending you over the edge.

Your legs seize, as you start to reach your orgasm, but again, he pulls out of you. He slips you on your back again, reinserting his cock and lifting your legs on his shoulders, “I want to see you come undone on me baby.” He’s thrusting so furiously that you feel like you’re going to pass out. You feel yourself get light headed, your gets shake again as he starts rubbing your clit again, “fuck yeah, c’mon baby, c’mon.” Your body finally lets go, moans spewing out of you mouth like a waterfall, “fuck, fuck, Matt! Fuck!” You whine. his thrusts never stopped and circular motions on your clit never ceased and instead got impossibly faster. Your legs were shaking and spasming, and then bursts of wetness erupted from you. He pulled out to allow your liquid to fully shoot out and watched in wonder as your body convulsed under him, as you squirted all over your his cock.

“Fuck oh my god baby.” Everything was blurry as you tried to see his face, your body still shaking and convulsing. Eventually, your body went limp after a few minutes, your heavy breathing being the only thing heard in the room, other than the loud thumping of music from the outside of the door. You look over to the right of you, seeing Matt kneeling by the bed next to your face, caressing it and placing loving kisses to your forehead, “You did so fucking good babygirl. I’m so proud of you. Oh my god.”

You feel your eyes start to get heavy, the entire situation taking all of your energy. “Hey, before you fall asleep, go pee.” He states as you whimper, “I can’t move.” He chuckles, lifting you off the bed and carrying you to the bathroom connected to his room.

Hi! I really hope you enjoyed this!

how would you guys feel about a short part 2 of just him doing aftercare, and the morning after? Let me know!

Don’t forget to request by sending me a DM or just sending in an ask!

I look forward to hearing your feedback! 🤍

-hales ☁️

[inuyashaluver]

Could we get an enemies -> lovers with Leila Ouahabi ?

liar - leila ouahabi

leila ouahabi x reader

description: in which a certain left back tackles you dangerously many years ago in the youth teams, giving you an acl injury. you hate each other and nothing will change that…maybe

warnings: swearing, spanish in bold italics

a/n: indeed you can, my love! thank you and enjoy!! ❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and leila ouahabi had a very difficult relationship. to say the least, you fucking hated each other.

you and leila were always around each other and it made your blood boil. your teammates often told you that your hatred for the girl was a little ridiculous but you wouldn’t relent.

leila on the other hand only hated you because you hated her. she didn’t really understand it but your attitude and mannerisms towards her made you insufferable for her.

—

it all started in the spanish youth teams, both of you just 15 and as eager as ever. you played in the midfield while leila played left back, she’d mark you occasionally but the two of you wouldn’t really speak. you were friendly with each other, saying hello with a wave when you saw each other at training.

until it all changed. you were all doing a little mini game to asses who would playing competition games and who would be benched. you and leila were considered the best of the best and you both knew it.

you both had an immense amount of respect for each other and the way you both played, that’s why it hurt so much when the hatred grew.

leila was marking you and she managed to get the ball off you through what she thought was a safe tackle, but you screamed in pain and fell to the ground with tears brimming in your eyes. you heard it, the dreaded pop that no one ever wanted to hear. it’s your acl.

“oh my god, (y/n), i’m so sorry-” leila rushes out, you look up at her with a glare, this was your opportunity to represent your country and it was taken from you because of her.

“i don’t want to hear it, ouahabi” you scoff, tearing your gaze away from her face of shock and fear while you get carried off the pitch by alexia and mapi.

from then on, you couldn’t stand leila. everything you’d worked so hard for was taken from you in the span of two minutes. now when the girls played, you’d have to sit in the stands with your crutches.

your scowl was evident on your face everytime leila had the ball. leila had made an immense effort to talk to you, to apologise, to offer you a helping hand but you dismissed her every time, she tried to confide in alexia but she knew you too well.

you were so stubborn and stood your ground, alexia tried to convince you to at least talk to the girl but you refused. it all went downhill from there.

—

it seemed that you and leila couldn’t get rid of each other. every club you got signed to, she did. you had the same friends, the same interests also but you just couldn’t get passed the fact that she caused you an acl injury.

sure, maybe you were being a little ridiculous but it was a big opportunity for you to gain recognition for spain and you just didn’t get it.

when you both signed to barcelona in 2016, everyone could tell the tension was still the same as it had been since you were both 15. you were both 23 now and you could still cut the tension with a knife.

your teammates desperately tried to get you two to get along, but it just didn’t happen. you’d send each other snarky remarks, filthy looks, the whole works.

it was truly disappointing for your teammates to see how you two just acted like children. the grudge you held being over 8 years long.

the thing is, leila wanted to be friends with you, she always had been. as the years progressed, you blossomed, not only in football but your appearance and intelligence also. she always thought you were beautiful but you only got prettier each day.

you also thought leila was gorgeous, who wouldn’t? that’s what pissed you off more, perfect leila clouding your thoughts completely. your distaste for each other was in reality intrigue and attraction but you and leila would never admit that. ever.

—

“fucking watch it, ouahabi!” you exclaim as you get slammed to the floor during a mini game in training, “you watch it, idiot” she grumbled, rolling her eyes when you curse her under your breath.

“enough, you’re acting like children!” alexia reprimands, pointing an accusatory finger with a stern expression at both of you. you give her a tight lipped smile and move to stand up, bumping leila’s shoulder with your own.

“ale, she started it” leila groans, hitting your shoulder back with hers, “she pushed me on the ground, ale!” you frown, alexia shook her head at both of you, you were exactly the same.

“and i’ll finish it, i don’t care, all i ask is for one normal training session, you’re adults” she grits, you and leila send each other a little glare before going back to the game.

you have the ball and she manages to get it off you again and you throw your head back in frustration, “oops, sorry” she mocks, winking at you when she passes the ball away.

you give her a little shove and run back up the field and her team gets a goal, her teasing laugh rings in your ears as you watch her celebrate the goal.

—

in the change rooms that day, you can’t help but look at leila as she changes, her cubby was in your direct view. she was perfect and it made you mad in a way you couldn’t explain.

alexia raises her eyebrows in surprise watching you ogle over her and you stop immediately, heading to the showers with a frustrated sigh.

though, you notice a certain someone in the shower directly across from you, her gaze lingering on your upper back as you showered. your cheeks grow slightly pink, you felt flustered.

“fucking hell, ouahabi, do you have to follow me everywhere?” you bark, leila laughs at you mockingly,

“oh please, princesa (princess) you don’t own the showers” she retorts, you roll your eyes and mutter nonsense that made leila smile secretly. you never change.

you get out the shower and flip her off, she does the same and smiles at you sickeningly sweet, making you shake your head before going to find alexia to complain.

only to receive a lecture that you were being childish, causing leila to walk past you with a teasing grin when she heard you getting scolded.

—

you played with each other for years at barcelona until you decided you needed a change. you wanted to give the wsl so you could gain some new techniques.

you’d gotten an offer from manchester city and it was just a no brainer to accept it. you signed the contract with a heavy heart but knew it would be refreshing

if only you knew who else got a contract.

it was to your great surprise when you walked into your first training session to see a certain brunette walking in the same time as you.

“you’re fucking joking” you say simply, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath when you see leila wearing the same training kit you were. she laughs, she genuinely laughs and takes in your appearance.

“can’t get enough of me, huh, princesa (princess)?” she smirks, walking up to you full of confidence. you wanted to punch her then and there, but also kiss her but that was right at the back of your mind and should not be acknowledged.

“you wish, clearly you can’t get enough of me because you follow me everywhere” you challenged, standing on your tiptoes to look a little more intimidating and she found it really cute.

“okay, nena (baby)” she shrugs, moving to the door to open it and leaving you behind. your cheeks are burning, she’s never called you that before.

—

you both get introduced to everyone and got pulled aside by a couple of people, mentioning the undeniable tension between the two of you and you struggled to give them an answer without feeling stupid.

during training, you can’t help but look at leila, the way she moved, the way she looked perfect after a full training session. you were fucked.

leila noticed it immediately, the way your gaze would follow her every move, she loved it, purposefully giving you a little show when she’d flex her arms or lift her shorts up a little higher. she loved to see you nervous, especially because of her.

you were placed on the same team for training activities and you managed to get a goal, “buena niña (good girl)” she says simply from behind you, your legs feel like jelly and you look at her in surprise.

she smirks and sends you a cheeky wink, your body is on fire. you’re supposed to hate her, snap out of it, you thought. but it was extremely hard when she’s looking at you like that and calling you all these pet names.

—

it was your first game for manchester city and you and leila were starting. it was daunting, your first game for your brand new club when you can’t even think straight due to a certain brunette.

she’s been subtly flirting with you for weeks, sending you cheeky looks, shamelessly checking you out. you couldn’t handle it, you chose not to entertain it but that doesn’t mean you didn’t enjoy it.

leila knew you very well, she knew your mannerisms and knew you enjoyed it, so why wouldn’t she pursue it?

the game was going well, you and leila proved your success in the team and everyone was thoroughly impressed.

you were in the lead 2-0 and the game was clean up until the second half. the other team grew in frustration and began to get sloppy, in their passes, tackles, everything. and unfortunately, you were the one that had to deal with it.

you got tackled by your marker and she studded your ankle, you fall to the floor with a gasp and the whistle blows immediately. the referee shows her a yellow card and you look up in shock to see leila shoving her.

“are you fucking serious?” a shove to the girl’s chest, “are you trying to take her out because she’s better than you or something?” another shove. she’s furious, she watched as you fell to the ground and she just saw red. no one hurts her girl.

the pain subsides, you feel good to continue despite the slight sting. you walk up to leila who’s currently being held back by lauren and grab her hand in yours. you’ve never been so attracted to someone in your life.

she looks down at you in surprise, her eyes scanning your face before dropping to your ankle. “i’m fine, leila” your eyes stare into hers and she reluctantly nods, gripping your hand tightly and sending your marker a little glare as she lets you pull her away.

leila looks down at your joint hands with a hint of a smile and you drop it immediately after following her gaze.

“you’re sure you’re okay?” leila looks right into your eyes in any words to trace for any lies, you nod and give her a small smile.

“i’m okay, thank you” you say softly, she grins and squeezes your shoulder gently “anytime, princesa (princess)” she flirts, walking back to her position and leaving you stunned.

after the game, you hang around after in the change rooms as the girls leave, coincidentally leaving you both there alone. you take a deep breath and walk up to her while she’s lacing her shoes, clearly about to leave.

“i just wanted to say thank you again, for defending me” you say sheepishly, looking anywhere but at her. she chuckles and watches as you squirm nervously. she liked how she had that effect on you.

“looks like you’re getting soft on me, hermosa (beautiful)” she smirks, you huff in frustration and look at her in fake annoyance. “i can’t be nice and express my gratitude?” you argue, leila smiles at your rambling.

“of course you can, you’re different, you know? you’re much nicer” she teases, you roll your eyes at her and cross your arms over your chest as you stare down at her.

“whatever, ouahabi, i still hate you” you grit out, the biggest lie you’ve ever said.

“mentirosa (liar)” she smiles, standing up to be directly in front of you, her eyes flickering between yours. “what?” you breathe out, the proximity making you nervous.

“men-ti-ro-sa” she breaks down each syllable, each one hitting your heart. you look up to drop the eye contact and she grabs your chin gently, directing your gaze back to her eyes.

you were killing her, with your wide eyes and pink cheeks, she couldn’t ignore her feelings anymore.

your hands dumbly drop to your sides as you look up at her, her hand holding your chin moving to cradle your jaw. she takes in your appearance with a gentle smile, her gaze lingering on your lips for a second before looking back into your eyes.

“so beautiful” she starts with a smile, “beautiful but so stubborn” she wrinkles her nose teasingly and you can’t help but laugh a little.

“you’re beautiful” you say earnestly, she grins brightly at that, her teeth catching her bottom lip as she looks at you. “softie” she taunts, leaning forward slightly, your eyes fall to her lips and she takes that as her cue, she moves forward to pull you into a searing kiss.

your hands go around her neck to pull her closer and her free hand rests on your hip, her lips was so warm and weirdly familiar, it feels like you’ve kissed before.

before she deepens it, she pulls away slightly and you whine at the loss of contact. she raises her eyebrows amusingly and smiles at you, “still hate me?” she says playfully,

“no” you whisper against her lips, “not for a while” you move forward to capture her lips in another kiss, conveying every ounce of affection you had for each other.

—

she took you on a couple of dates and you got together after a very short amount of time. falling into a loving relationship full of so much love you both couldn’t believe it, eventually moving in together in manchester.

you both decided to wait to tell your national teammates, you convinced leila to do so and she could never say no to you when you kissed her and gave her your best puppy dog eyes.

when you both had national duty, your teammates, especially alexia were pleasantly surprised that you weren’t at each other’s throats as usual.

it was until the mini game when you and leila were on opposite teams that you confirmed the relationship.

she tackled you and you fell to the floor, she smiles and holds her hands out to you, “sorry, bebé (baby)” she lifts you off the floor, “it’s okay, mi amor (my love)” you lean forward and place a quick kiss on her lips and the entire team screams in shock.

oh how you wish you had your phone when you saw alexia’s face, she was gagged.

leila laughs brightly and tucks you into her side, making an effort to slide her hand from your waist to your ass before moving back up again.

the way you both looked at each other with nothing but affection had your teammates believing they were hallucinating. “what the fuck is going on?” mapi screams, you and leila giggle before she kisses your temple as you explain the situation.

you and leila couldn’t be happier, and once your teammates saw the love you had for each other, they were ecstatic.

though it did take some getting used to seeing you two making out rather than shoving each other with harsh words but it was refreshing.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - just pretend it’s you, ily claudia xx

liked by alexiaputellas and 44,232 others

leilaouahabi: she’s so cute, she thought she hated me all these years but she was in loveeee

view all comments

yourname: i’m hating you a little right now for exposing me like this

↳ leilaouahabi: i love you?

↳ yourname: i mean, i love you too i guess

↳ leilaouahabi: lindaaaaa (cutie)

alexiaputellas: i knew she always liked you, it was so obvious with her little heart eyes

↳ leilaouahabi: oh same, she’s obsessed with me

↳ yourname: hello? why are we exposing my business?