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inkskinned · 8 months

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yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."

i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.

the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.

mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.

later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.

sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.

but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.

i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.

every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.

wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?

the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:

he wants to say i love you but keeps it to goodnight because love will take some falling and she's afraid of heights.

every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.

mahler's fifth still makes me sick.

give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.

give me back what you took from me.

#nosebleed club #sorry stephen not ur fault #just like. thinking #writeblr #spilled ink #warm up #every time nat is like - oh let me get that for u #im like .... this is a trick right like ur gonna be mean now bc u did something nice rn #so obviously if ur being nice now either u did something mean and im about to learn about it #or you're going to BE mean #or ur gonna hold this over my head forever and i'll never get a nice thing ever again?#and every time nat is like .... babe i just actually like u #lesbian jesus story is 100% real btw. she also told me not to be an event planner #literally changed the shape of my life

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ellecdc · 6 months

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hi!!!!

id love to see a poly!marauders where the reader is muggle born or atlest muggle raised , reader and remus just bond over muggle stuff while the others sit there all confused asking wtf they’re talking about

like music, technology, maybe certain foods, certain slang and books the wizard world doesn’t have.

(ps i love ur blog and everything you write plz keep it up❤️)

hahaha awe so cute - here's a sweet little scene, and thanks for your request <33

poly!marauders x gn!reader who is muggle born

James was not too proud to admit he was rather upset.

And by upset, he meant jealous, terribly jealous. And desperate, so unbelievably desperate. And also sort of pissed off.

The cause of such upset, you might wonder?

Oh, only one of his own sodding boyfriends, of course.

You see, it had been his idea to start chatting with you in order to see where things could go - you know, romantically - between the four of you.

Sirius was eager - which would seem very out of character for the notoriously territorial and stand-offish Black who was wary of anyone interfering with their already established dynamic - but Sirius was equally as enamoured with you as James was from your shared classes and your few interactions around the castle.

Of course - as would be expected - it was Moony that the two of them had to persuade to consider you in earnest.

“Come on, Moons. Don’t tell me you’re worried that you won’t be the smartest one in the relationship anymore.” Sirius had teased, earning him a glare from the werewolf.

But of course, James (and Sirius) had been right, and Remus was practically immediately taken with you after James had officially introduced you to his boyfriends at a Gryffindor party.

It was perhaps very helpful that you happened to be muggle born seeing as Remus had a muggle parent himself, so he was able to bond with you over various muggle things.

And James thought that was wonderful! Truly!

Really.

He honestly did.

But...well, did you guys have to talk about it all of the time!?

And it’s not that James didn’t like you talking about muggle things, or that he didn’t like muggle things in general.

What he didn’t like was that he couldn’t participate in the conversation at all.

And James is sorry, but what in the buggering fuck was a ‘vee sea are’?

James tuned back into the conversation when he began recognizing some of the words you and Remus were saying, though Sirius looked no less confused than he had previously.

“My favourite is probably The Sound of Music.” You admitted somewhat bashfully, features painted with a shy smile as you looked at Remus through your eyelashes.

James didn’t know what you were so shy about, especially considering Remus was beaming at you in response. “Me too!” He agreed readily.

“I love the sound of music!” James chimed in readily, earning him a surprise look from you, a curious look from Remus, and a bemused look from Sirius.

“Do you really?” You asked sweetly, offering him a hopeful smile.

“I didn’t know you’d ever heard of it.” Remus added quietly.

James scoffed. “Oh, come off it Moons. Of course I love the sound of music! It’s arguably one of my favourite sounds ever!”

“Awe.” You said sympathetically as Remus barked a laugh.

James looked at the two of you in confusion before he turned to Sirius in hopes for an answer.

“I don’t know how Prongsie, seeing as they never really asked a question.” Sirius started, placing a reassuring hand on his thigh and squeezing gently, “But I think you got the answer wrong.”

James harrumphed and fell back into his chair, feeling thoroughly dejected.

“I’m sorry Jamie.” You apologized, looking particularly distraught at having caused James any grief. “We can talk about something else, if you’d like.”

James waved you off quickly. “No, no. I’m sorry, sweets. It doesn’t matter to me what you talk about, as long as I get to continue hearing the sound of your lovely voice, arguably my second favourite sound ever.”

James may not know what sounds of music you had been talking about, but he was proud that he did know how to make you blush something fierce with nothing but a few simple words.

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peachysunrize · 5 months

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𝑾𝑬𝑳𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑴𝒀 𝑪𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑬𝑹 𝑶𝑭 𝑭𝑰𝑳𝑻𝑯 ⬎

❥ Rue • 19 • fanfic author • gif maker (my creations -> #ruegifs) • team Aemond & Aemond apologist • I only write for Aemond & Aegon ii and maybe Gwayne Hightower • NOT SPOILER FREE!

Ao3 -> peachysunrize

Smut ❥ / fluff ❦ / angst ఌ / dark content 𓂀

[personal blog @dreamphyrs <3 ]

Anons list✨

RECENT WORKS -> Tangerine Dreams | Owned | Insolent wench

Full masterlist under the cut⬎

ONE SHOTS

• Lemon Tart -> p.1 [5.2k] ❥ ఌ/ p.2 (coming soon)

after six years of searching for his lover, Aemond comes across her bakery in Flea Bottom with his betrothed.

• Devil’s Doll [3.5] ❥ 𓂀

no one can do anything when Aemond Targaryen sets his eye on a sweet girl and comes to the party with her on his arms, and those who dare to say an ill word will face his wrath with a bullet in their head.

• Labyrinth [11.5k] ❥ ఌ ❦

falling in love is easy for most people, but not for Aemond Targaryen. How can a broken cold-hearted man be able to love the most gentle human Westeros has ever seen?

• The Ballad of a Dragon [3.1k] ❥ ఌ ❦

after an argument with your husband, you find him playing his frustration away and eventually apologizes to you on top of his piano.

• MAMMAMIA [3.08k] ❥ ft Aegon

Baela finds out about your crush on his cousins, who just happen to be the new rising star in music industry. And with the promise of meeting them, she forces you to go with her to one of their concerts. (Listen to MAMMAMIA by Maneskin)

• The Other Woman [8.58k] ❥ ఌ❦

you were supposed to be a secret, his temptation in the dark not his scandal after the taste of heaven you experienced together.

• The King’s retribution [3.6k] ❥

when he walks back to the Keep, Aemond finds his brother’s wife in distress while her youngest child keeps her awake. Maybe it’s time to show the King that no one can humiliate the one-eyed prince.

• Victory [1.9k] ❥

after his match, you find him in the locker room and decide to tend to him yourself. Rest assured, the rush of adrenaline in his blood leads to you rewarding him for winning the game.

• Corrupted by God [2.5k] ❥ 𓂀

after the battle of Rook’s Rest, Aemond comes back to King’s Landing as the heir to the throne with a newfound determination to make the Queen of the Seven kingdoms his queen as well.

• Insolent wench [3.07k] ❥ 𓂀

he finds the master of whispers’ daughter in the council room in the dead of the night playing with the marble ball he gave to Aegon earlier, the dragon in him is ready to burn or succumb to her.

• Owned [1.5k] ❥ 𓂀

After nearly following Silverwing to Dragonstone mindlessly, Aemond comes back to the keep to posses you, his Queen once more.

SERIES

• Tangerine Dreams (ongoing)

being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.

One Shots

• MAMMAMIA [3.08k] ❥ ft Aemond

Baela finds out about your crush on her cousins, who just happen to be the new rising star in music industry. And with the promise of meeting them, she forces you to go with her to one of their concerts. (Listen to MAMMAMIA by Maneskin)

#˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ masterlist #ruegifs

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moviestarmartini · 7 months

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carseat backseat. — jude bellingham x reader x brahim díaz.

pairing: jude bellingham x latina!reader x brahim díaz.

summary: your girls' night out soon turned into a party of one. good news though, the two men over at the private booth were looking for the perfect opportunity to approach you. and they're looking to get out of that club fast.

wc: 3.2k

warnings: nsfw (+18 mdni), mentions and consumption of alcohol, basic sentences in spanish (as per usual on this blog tbh), PERREO !!!! , car sex (i'm romanticizing it tbh), soft doms!jude & brahim, marking, praise, light degrading, oral sex (f & m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (twice rip), needy mfs, use of petnames, light manhandling, strangers hooking up tbh. if i missed anything lmk.

A/N: this was wild to write which is why i think it took me so long to finish !!! i mentioned it previously but i lowk picture them in a tuned chevy tahoe and not a limo but that might be irrelevant. reblogs & feedback are always appreciated babes xx enjoy

now playing . . . chulo pt.2 by bad gyal, tokischa & young miko / partition by beyoncé

Betrayed.

You were currently feeling betrayed. Your girlfriends all abandoned you, with cheap excuses or promising hookups that surged throughout the night. You could’ve been on your way to get down and busy too, but you had standards. You sat at the bar, thinking what you should order before a margarita came your way. You curled up a brow at the bartender, who just replied: “The young men by that booth noticed you like tequila.”

You frowned at the plural, taking a short sip of the peculiar-shaped glass before looking around. At a private booth full of couples making out and grinding on each other, you could easily recognize two pairs of eyes looking right back at you. With a confident smile, you raise your glass towards them before taking another sip, thinking that would be the end of it.

You hummed in approval at both the taste of the tequila-based drink and the music the DJ was playing, before feeling a presence standing next to you. It was the shortest of the men who had bought you a drink, with light stubble that covered up his jaw and upper lip area. “¿Qué tal, bonita? ¿Te gustó el trago?” He was dangerously close, but you didn’t find the closeness uncomfortable.

“How did you know I liked tequila?” You laughed, throwing your hair back. Brahim joined in, and he couldn’t ignore the way your face lightened up. His lips parted in amusement, watching your every move. The way you crossed your thighs, and how badly he wanted to pry them open.

“How wouldn’t someone like you have my attention all night?” Brahim’s voice came as something similar to a coo, reaching forward to tuck a strand behind your ear. Suddenly, you felt your whole face heating up. “I’m Brahim, a pleasure.” You introduced yourself in the same fashion, not long after perking up at the song that started playing, its opening letters sparking interest. “Lovely to meet you, ¿Vamos?” He pointed to the packed dance floor with his head, offering you his hand.

Taking down the rest or the drink you hopped off the bar stool, taking his hand gladly and into the dance floor. From your experience with Europeans, they were not the most dexterous dancers, standing still and looking up at the ceiling with their hands on your hips. The man only saved himself by the fact you loved the song and he bought you a drink, the least you owed him was a dance.

But oh you were so wrong.

Brahim gripped his hands on the soft skin of your hips, every once in a while controlling the circular motions you produced, while also grinding back against your ass. It only motivated you further, hearing him curse under his breath. “Joder… qué perreo el tuyo, princesa.” You chuckled a little at his reaction, biting on your bottom lip. The tension only grew when he spun you around, dancing face to face, your nose brushing against his.

Before you could take the dip and cut the distance— his cologne had been clouding your senses, mind fuzzy with the growing sexual tension— he twirled you around yet again, your eyes landing directly on a chest. You tilted your head up to meet the eyes of the man she identified sitting next to Brahim earlier.

“Fancy sharing her, bro?” He addressed Brahim, but his eyes didn’t tear away from yours. “All ours, Jude.” You heard the other reply as he inched closer. The words echoed in your mind, goosebumps forming up your arms. The man you now knew as Jude took both your hands, pulling them upwards and to rest around his neck as he joined the two of you dancing.

The tension between the three of you was something you’ve never felt before, Brahim’s nose brushing against your neck and the way Jude stared you down made your knees weak. But the song came to an end, the DJ transitioning to a whole different genre. But that didn’t stop Jude from closing the distance and kissing you, your eyes falling shut instantly. A gasp left your lips the minute you felt another pair on your neck, leaving slow pecks.

“Why don’t we get out of here?” Jude proposed, his lips still grazing yours. You nodded, and Brahim scooped your hand in his as he practically dragged you away from the dancing bodies, and Jude followed suit with your hands linked together.

The flashing lights drowned the ambiance, and as you thought of the situation and what could be ahead, you smiled to yourself. If patience was the road to wisdom, you sure felt ninety years older. Maybe your friends jumping off the boat was a blessing in disguise— you deduced as you exited the club through the back. You squinted a little, your eyes already used to the strobe lighting of the club.

Click.

Jude stepped in front of you, covering his mouth to speak as a black large car rolled up. “Cover your face for me, baby.” He advised as Brahim opened the door for you, hopping in behind you, Jude looking at the source of the camera with a straight face before sliding inside the car. He gave instructions to the driver, giving him a large bill to… mind his own business apparently, as a partition was rolled up.

“You owe me a kiss,” Brahim complained after not even two seconds of silence, brushing his nose against your cheek. You couldn’t help but giggle as he roughly drew you into his lap, taking your lips hostage in his. While Jude’s affections earlier were soft and careful, Brahim seemed eager; but it still wasn’t his hand grazing the skin of your inner thigh, making your legs part open. Your mini skirt rode up, and you noticed how Brahim pulled it even further to rest at your lower waist. A hum of approval rang through the moving vehicle, and as Jude’s hand inched closer to your core, you shivered.

Brahim groaned at the sudden movement, parting ways with your lips to settle down your neck, Jude taking the same initiative. You moaned softly, jerking your hips. Him, in response, bit into your neck, his fingers delving into the soft skin of your hips. Getting that much attention was overwhelming, and you fell drunk on it. They really worshiped you, lips slowly making their way down, the moans rewarding the men for their good work.

Jude parted first, his finger grazing the soft fabric of your underwear. “We’ve got you so wet,” He cooed, taking your cheeks and turning your head to look at him. He dissected your reaction as his hand just shoved the panties to a side and he took a dip to test your wetness. A light smirk tugged on his face as he watched your lips part in a tiny gasp.

“Turn her a bit towards me, mate.” Jude instructed Brahim, who was busy painting hematomas on your neck. He nodded with the same devilish shine on his eyes, shifting a little so you would both face him. “What do you want, babe? You look a bit bothered,” He freighted innocence, a chuckle rung from behind you.

You became even more embarrassed; how easy your body queues were to them. “Touch me,” You replied with a certain fortitude in your voice, when your eyes were dripping with need. Brahim watched you, lips slightly parted, and just smiled. He gave Jude a nod, who didn’t waste any time in sinking a finger into your wetness. You couldn’t help but throw your head back with a groan, finding rest in Brahim’s shoulder.

Jude didn’t find any pleasure in easing it into you, fixing a steady pace that would have you writhing in no time. You noticed Brahim getting harder under your ass, the movements clearly getting him off. He still didn’t budge, instead hooking a finger on the strap of your blouse and tugging it off the way slowly before kissing the area.

Your moans were breathy, as if you were a fish out of water, your hand reaching back to brush Brahim’s hair out of the way, his light beard tickling the back of your shoulder. You could also feel his hand sliding down your torso, his ring and middle finger soon finding a home at your throbbing clit. You noticed through almost closed eyes that Jude licked his lips and slid another digit in, picking up the pace.

“You like that, princesa? Wanna cum?” Brahim brushed your hair back. You did your best to affirm between babbles, but the built up was rapid and dangerous. “You can do it, you’re so good for us.” Jude confirmed with praise, and you couldn’t have stopped the orgasm even if you wanted to. Your moans filled up the space, legs trembling as they both slowed down and worked you through it.

Jude took his fingers out and started licking them, never breaking eye contact. Instead, he reached out to pull you into a kiss. His hand cupped your jaw with ease, as you sloppily made out. You could taste yourself in his tongue, “What a pretty mess we have here.” He stroked your cheekbone as the car came to a halt. The driver simply left the vehicle and both men checked through the tinted foggy windows their surroundings. They were at the hotel they requested, at the underground parking level that looked as though no one had been there in years.

Perfect.

You came to the same conclusion they did, now pulling Jude back into a kiss, your hands unbuttoning his shirt. But at the same time you reached back and pulled Brahim closer to do the same, with a bit of his help. Jude watched as you cupped his boner through the dress pants, letting a small surprised groan. He’d been so busy pleasuring you he didn’t realize how needy he was himself.

“I want to taste you.” Brahim whispered in your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine. Trying to think of an arrangement, an idea quickly rose to your head before it was occupied with the toned bodies of the shirtless men on either side of you. “You will, I promise,” You gave him a peck before giving your attention back to Jude, kissing down his torso as you got on your knees still on the car seat.

You heard Brahim sigh as you unbuttoned the other’s pants, Jude himself helping you lower his underwear to give his hard cock some space to breathe. You didn’t waste any time, licking the pre-cum that rolled down the tip before wrapping your hand around the girth and stroking it shortly. It didn’t take long for you to slowly slide it inside your mouth, Jude’s hand reaching to rest on the crown of your head with a groan leaving his lips.

Brahim didn’t seem to want to interrupt your work, but as you got into it, you felt the familiar hook of his fingers; this time around the waistband of your panties. He slid them down before a thumb stroked down your wet slit. But the slow-paced affections didn’t last long as he pressed his flat tongue to pick up all the slick and go straight to town on you. You started to struggle keeping your mouth and hand at a good pace, moans muffled with the thick cock stuffed in your mouth.

“Don’t stop,” Jude warned between groans, the grip in your hair tightening. The oral fixation seemed to be pushing him over the edge, in the same situation you found yourself in.

That was, until Brahim stopped.

You couldn’t even find the time to complain, to ask him for more; some shuffling filling the suffocating air before a leaking tip grazed your sloppy slit, all soaked with your arousal. You arched your back, pushing back against the friction. Both men snickered between themselves, Brahim still teasing you with the tip of his hard dick.

“You really want it, don’t you?” He cooed, his teasing actions still going further by pushing himself onto your entrance, but never making it fully inside. Instead of responding, you concentrated on giving your best affections, catching him off guard.

“Bro— fuck, do it.” Jude gave him the approval, clearly taking your enthusiasm into his pleasure as encouragement for the other man to satisfy you. Brahim sighed, lining himself properly with your entrance before burying his length inside you.

The groans that came out of your throat were gutural, full of lust. “You feel so good…” He exclaimed, throwing his head back, still getting used to the feel. He wasn’t the lengthiest, but the sheer girth made up for it. His hands gripped hard on the dough of your hips, tightening as he bounced your body against his in the same fashion you were doing earlier at the club.

You couldn’t help but arch your back even lower, doing your best to continue with your hard labor as Brahim set a relentless pace. You’d come to notice he was the most anxious one, yearning to take you as yours. But it seemed to be rubbing off on the other man, his long fingers gripping your hair with certain force. He thrusted hard enough to rock the car at the movement of his hips, enough to have Jude controlling your mouth, choking on his length.

The scene was straight out of the craziest adult film, but you knew that if you weren’t the one experiencing it, it wouldn’t be as hot. “Cum, baby. Come on.” Brahim encouraged, smacking your ass loudly; you were so fixated on pleasing the other man you didn’t even realize how close you were to your second release of the night. It knocked the air out of your lungs, saliva stuck with a guttural groan as the sensitive tip hit the back of your throat.

“Squeeze my cock like that— mierda, así, yes!” You could make out from riding down the tidal wave your orgasm brought, still stroking Jude’s cock while you took a breather to let out all the scandalous moans, letting the small tears run and ruin your mascara a little.

By the stutter on Brahim’s hips you noticed he was going to finish right then and there, only bouncing your hips back in the same fashion you were doing in no less than half an hour ago at the dance floor.

It took him a moment to recover, heavy breathing overshadowing the sloppy blowjob. He pulled out, looking back to watch the cum dripping out your whole. “Jude,” Brahim looked at him with a heavy breath. “Look at this. Look how perfect our pussy looks pumped of my cum,”

You whined at the sheer force the Spanish national manhandled you to show you off like a prize, and with this new angle you noticed a hint of pride in his voice. Jude’s seeming examination took a moment, even though you could hear the slick noise your leftover saliva made as he stroked his cock.

“I think it’s missing something…” Jude pondered, rising to his knees before pushing himself inside you. With a loud moan of surprise your knees couldn’t hold anymore, collapsing onto your stomach. Your head rested on Brahim’s thick thigh, and he soothed you through the first few instances with praise. Now it was his turn to be the doting one, brushing your hair back and talking you through it. “You’re taking it so well.”

“Suck him off, babe. He’s getting hard for witnessing how much of a good pretty slut you are for us,” Jude ordered, pulling your hips back up to pound into you shamelessly. The command wasn’t a problem, mind so cockdrunk you could do whatever they asked of you.

Jude still helped you up so you could get to the task at hand, but Brahim dipped lower to link his lips with yours tenderly, contrasting the constant sound of skin coming into contact. As you made out, you took the chance to stroke his cock, still soaked with your fluids. He seemed to be melting onto the seat, still sensitive from the previous orgasm. Breaking away and trying to manage your moans as best as you could, your tongue licked up the prominent vein up the underside, before wrapping your lips around the soft tip.

You fluttered your lashes up at him, finding him cute with his parted lips. But it was Jude who picked your hair back and motivated you straight into the action, sounds of pleasure now coming from both men. Brahim writhed under you, while Jude had you squirming.

“Ah, fuck, fuck,” Jude whined, trying to finish on the same pace but being unable to do so. Your walls squeezed him dry deliciously, and he leaned to press his chest against your back to reach around and draw circular motions on your overstimulated clit. “Just one more, okay baby? You can do it,” He encouraged, at the same time you tore yourself away from blowing Brahim to breathe and moan out freely.

“Perfect girl,” Brahim cooed as Jude slowed down, helping you ride down the wave your release represented. Jude pulled out, now standing back to admire his load leaking straight out of you. But now it was his turn to help you onto his lap, holding you close.

“You did so well,” Jude hummed, caressing your cheeks, cleaning the dried mascara. Brahim scooted over, brushing your hair back with his hands and pressing the tiniest, most playful kisses over your bare shoulders. With a gentle hand, Jude turned your head in his direction and locked his lips with your own, slightly swollen and adapting a redder tone. It was tender, calm. Brahim followed, matching the same energy.

It was strange how both men had that duality to them; going from being completely hands on and greedy with your body, to soothing you with the sweetest touches. “We didn’t even make it to the hotel room…” You joked, the two of them joining in the lazy laugh.

“It’s barely one in the morning.” Brahim brushed his nose against your cheek, in the same way he demanded a kiss earlier. You noticed him and Jude shared a look before looking back at you.

“Round two?” They proposed in unison. Still, their voices and expressions didn’t give any hint of obligation, just curiosity. You knew you could reject them and they would understand completely.

And that only captivated you further.

“Round two.” You confirmed with a nod and a wink, getting yourself together to at least spend a minute or so at the hotel lobby. As you all entered and confirmed the booking, it seemed that their infatuation with you only grew; Brahim couldn’t tear himself away from your side while Jude couldn’t stop looking back at you with a certain glimmer in his eyes.

You knew this was bound to be a long night. The biggest comfort though? That you knew you were going to wake up the next morning held securely by two pairs of strong arms.

#jude bellingham #brahim diaz #jude bellingham x latina reader #jude victor willliam bellingham #jude bellingham x y/n #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham imagine #brahim diaz x reader #football smut #football fic #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #𓈒ㅤׂ 𓇼✽ — writing !

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lilasamaaa · 5 months

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In the crowd | Carlos Sainz x Reader

Genres | Angst, Hurt/Comfort.

Word count | 3.6K.

Warnings | Alcohol consumption, drugs, mentions of violence.

Summary | Reader's an engineer at Scuderia Ferrari in Maranello. While attending the season's launch party, her drink gets spiked.

Author's Note | Hi all! After the longest time, I've felt the need to come back here for some silly writing. New blog because the last one got cringe. Let me know what you think!

One might think that after two years within the scuderia, the season’s launch parties would make her less uneasy. That after two years of being apart of the engineering team, she would finally be used to attending public gatherings. That after two years, she’d be a natural at walking in the open, feeling the glances slide over her figure. She is stunningly beautiful. Perhaps that's her burden. She doesn't realize it.

When she walks across the paddock or the stands, she knows people are staring at her. She avoids meeting their gazes, feeling embarrassed. She thinks there must be something wrong with her outfit, with her gait. Why else would they stare for so long?

In Maranello, there’s a bakery at the corner of the HQ building where she stops every morning. The cashier always offers her something extra. A coffee. An additional pastry. She finds him polite, very customer-oriented. One morning, as she was freeing her croissant from the paper napkin it was wrapped in, she’d discovered a phone number scrawled in pen ink, with a hastily drawn smiley face. She’d stared at the napkin, perplexed, seated at her desk. He must have made a mistake, she thinks. It must have been meant for the customer before her. The one with the beautiful blonde curls and the Chanel perfume. She didn't call, didn't send a message. She continued to visit the bakery. The cashier never mentioned the number, proving her theory.

Someone brushing past her brings her back to earth. The party is in full swing, and she’s just not. She spots her colleagues bustling around the buffet and the bar, engrossed in lively conversations. While some don't even notice her, others wave their hands, encouraging her to join them. She forces a smiles, returns the wave. Then she tightens her grip around her clutch. Anything to make her feel like she’s in control. To make her forget that the music’s too loud, the lights too vibrant, the air too hot.

She doesn't remember ever feeling comfortable in her body. Years of growing up in an unstable family where love was doled out sparingly do that to a person.

"Hey," comes a familiar voice. She turns her head, her big eyes catching sight of Livio’s, one of her colleagues. "Are you not dancing?" he continues, a drink in hand. His whiskey breath hits her straight on. She discreetly glances at her watch, noting that it's barely nine.

"I haven't had enough to drink for that," she replies, trying to dodge the invitation.

"Let's go get you something then," Livio responds, grabbing her arm and heading towards the bar.

She's noticed that men always do that with her. Not just her colleagues, but people she doesn't know either. She's too kind, too gentle; she never raises her voice. So they grab her by the hips, the arms, the wrists. Anything is an excuse to touch her. She hates it.

"What do you want?" Livio asks.

Nothing, really, but she can't say that.

"Something sweet, please. I don't like strong alcohol," she replies. Livio seems to ponder her question for a second, his mouth pursed.

"I have something for you to try, wait," he continues, signaling to the bartender. "You're going to like it, don't worry."

A few seconds later, a glass of Plymouth is placed in front of her, and she looks up at Livio. Does he think I've never tasted gin in my life? she wonders, puzzled. She would like to refuse the drink, ask for the cherry liqueur she discovered last time indeed. But already, Livio has grabbed her glass and hands it to her with a big smile. "Salute," he exclaims, downing his own glass in one gulp.

Cries and applause suddenly echo in the large reception hall, causing her to turn her head. It takes her a few minutes to understand the reason for this sudden commotion. Until she sees them, a few meters away.

Charles and Carlos.

Her eyes can't seem to tear away from the two pilots making their way through the crowd to a small stage where a microphone is set up. It's tradition : to kick off the season in style, the entire team eagerly awaits the drivers' speeches. Everyone wants to hear their words, their encouragements, their hopes and goals for the season.

A friend once asked her if she knew Charles and Carlos personally. She can't really say yes. That would be a lie. She's exchanged words with each of the athletes before, giving them information about the race, their car, and the expected weather. These exchanges have always been brief and cordial. Professional. Nothing more.

Even though... No, she thinks, lightly shaking her head. That was nothing. But still...

It had happened just before the race in Singapore, last year.

A friend from engineering school had moved there at the beginning of the year, and they had agreed to meet for dinner at a fancy restaurant in the city. It was an opportunity to reminisce about the years spent at Polytechnique, studying (a bit), suffering (a lot), and getting drunk (a whole lot).

She had chosen a long emerald green silk dress, slit up to mid-thigh. The perfect balance between classy and sexy. She had no intention of charming her companion - notoriously attracted to men, anyway - but this meal was the perfect excuse to leave her eternal Ferrari jumpsuits for something more feminine.

In the long corridor leading to the elevator, she'd suddenly felt on a catwalk, letting herself get caught up in the moment and rolling her hips perhaps a tad too exaggeratedly. The person emerging from the corner at the far end of the corridor surprised her, but not enough to disrupt her stride, her heels clicking against the floor.

She had recognized him immediately, of course.

Dressed in a simple fitted black polo and a pair of dark jeans, his eyes had not left hers throughout their crossing. When the two had finally reached the same level, she'd breathed out a small "Good evening, Carlos," suddenly insecure about everything. Her outfit. Her gait. The messy bun revealing her neck. The cleavage leaving no room for a bra and showing the beginning of her breasts.

He had passed her, nodding in acknowledgment, and each had continued on their way. She was certain... No, almost certain, that she had dreamt the words that had followed.

"That's one lucky guy."

Yes, she was almost certain she had dreamt it. Watching the Spaniard in the distance take hold of the microphone and tap it gently to check the connections, she became increasingly convinced. There was no chance that this man, chiseled from marble, could have noticed her. Desired her.

His accent echoes throughout the room, and she instinctively closes her eyes, as if bathed in the gentle sun of Madrid. She's not listening - not really - only catching words here and there. "Truly an honor," "Very impressed by your efforts," "Promising changes." But her mind is elsewhere, between Maranello and Singapore, tethered to the memory that makes her lower abdomen tingle in the sweetest of ways.

"And now, it's time to celebrate!" Carlos says as the room erupts with joy and anticipation.

"Earth to you?" comes a much less pleasant voice than the one that has just quieted down.

"I'm sorry, what?" she says, returning her attention to Livio.

"Oh, wow, you've got to be kidding me. Is it just me, or are you completely absorbed by this guy?" Livio replies, his mouth twisted in a grimace.

"Who?" she asks, genuinely confused.

"Sainz. You were hanging on his every word."

"I just think it's nice that they're giving an encouraging speech. Both of them," she explains, avoiding the Italian's gaze.

"Yeah, okay. Should we get another drink?" he asks, taking hold of her arm again.

She wants to protest. She can still taste the gin at the back of her mouth. It can't have been more than twenty minutes since her first drink. But Livio is already almost dragging her behind him, clearly determined not to let her escape tonight. And once again, that hand locks around her arm. Firm. Not open to discussion. She feels something almost territorial in the gesture, something that strongly displeases her, so she vows to mention it to Livio. Someday. Not tonight.

This time, he doesn't even pretend to care about what she wants to drink, ordering two whiskies straight away. She hates it. The taste, the look, what this alcohol does to her mind and body. But Livio has already slipped two bills to the bartender, and a moment later, the amber liqueur lands in her right hand.

While her drinking companion is already tilting his head back, clearly unaware that this type of alcohol is to be savored and not downed in one go, she observes the glass, intrigued by the few bubbles that are forming on the surface. I had no idea whiskey could do that, she thinks before bringing the liquid to her lips.

A few minutes later, she's managed to shake off Livio by claiming she needed to use the restroom. She crosses paths with Carlos walking in the other direction, maybe three people ahead of her, but he doesn't notice her.

In front of the restroom mirror, touching up her lipstick, her focus changes as she sees a drop of sweat trickle down her temple and slide slowly onto her cheek. I'm rather cold, though, she thinks, almost suppressing a shiver. Her head suddenly feels very light. She blames the alcohol. Putting her lipstick back in her clutch and tucking a strand of hair that threatened to escape from her bun, she pushes the restroom door open again, bracing herself to face the social world once more.

Passing by the buffet, a wave of nausea washes over her, forcing her to stop for a few seconds, leaning against the table and closing her eyes.

"I thought it was you," echoes the sunny accent in her ears. With her eyes still closed, she wishes their new encounter, one that she'd admit she's dreamed about, had happened differently. At a better time. A time when she wasn't battling a fierce urge to throw up.

"Are you okay?" Carlos inquires, raising his hand as if to support her but stopping halfway.

She takes a few seconds to push the unpleasant sensations from her body as far away as possible before lifting her head, opening her eyes, and being rewarded with the exquisite sight of his luscious hair and amber eyes.

"Hi," she manages to utter in a faint voice. "Great speech," she continues, still leaning against the table.

"You look pale," the driver responds, looking concerned.

The words escape her lips before they even reach her brain. She regrets them instantly. Something inside her just give way, like a dam.

"Sorry. I must have looked better in Singapore," she says.

Carlos widens his eyes, surprised, before letting out an awkward laugh.

"Sorry for staring at you like that, that night. You were... Well, you are...," he continues, seeming to search for his words.

She would so love to hear the rest, to know what he was going to say. But dizziness seizes her, and she feels herself tipping against the table. Well, almost, because suddenly, an arm wraps around her waist, pressing her against a chest that, yes, she's also dreamed about several times. But not like this. Not in this state.

"Hey," Carlos says, his voice tinged with worry.

"I'm so sorry, this never happens to me. I must have had one drink too many, I—"

"I saw you at the bar not even ten minutes ago," the Spaniard continues. "No alcohol hits you that fast. Not even shots."

"I'm fine," she says, and the pilot understands that she's saying it not only to reassure him but herself as well. And, as if the words had commanded it, the fog in her mind dissipates a bit. Enough for her to gently detach herself from the pilot, finding her balance on her own two feet again. She'd like to take advantage of this newfound clarity to keep the Spaniard close to her. Him, that she never crosses paths with, whom she never speaks to, and yet who appeals to her so much.

But Charles arrives. He smiles at her, asks if she's okay, if she's enjoying the evening, and oh, "I'll borrow him for a moment, I'm so sorry, sponsors, you know," and oh, once again, she finds herself alone at the buffet, watching the two men walk away, Carlos still watching her as he reluctantly retreats.

"I was beginning to think he'd never leave," Livio says, leaning against the buffet, his hip brushing against hers.

She wants to scream. Oh, how badly she wants to.

Sensing that she's not going to respond, the Italian tries his luck again.

"Should we dance? You seem intoxicated enough, now."

She doesn't even have time to respond before her colleagues guides her onto the dance floor, eagerly pressing his body against hers. His breath, previously tinged with whiskey, now betrays hints of tequila. The guy never has enough, she thinks, twirling reluctantly.

And there it goes again. The nausea, the queasiness. Spinning her around like a puppet doesn't help, she tells herself. She comes to a halt, cutting off Livio's momentum, causing some dancing couples to narrowly avoid colliding with them. Feeling vulnerable, she tries to get away, to seek refuge elsewhere. But her wrist is once again trapped.

"You don't look well. Come on, let's get you some fresh air," Livio says, heading towards one of the large glass doors.

She's often been described as naive by her loved ones. She believes that the whole world means well towards her, never suspects anyone of ill intentions. She would even say about herself that she has no instincts, let alone survival instincts. No sense of danger. Yet, perhaps for the first time in her life, something deep inside her is screaming not to follow the man. Her signals are on alert. Everything is flashing red in her mind. For her, it's a first. So, without thinking, without worrying about offending her colleague, she acts.

"I don't need to go outside," she says, trying to free herself from his grasp. She's sweating. She feels the unpleasant sensation of a thin layer of dampness creeping over her neck, her back, her hands.

Her feeble resistance is no match for Livio's strength, as he pulls her outside despite her protests. The music is too loud for anyone to hear their altercation. Divided between the buffet, the bar, and the dance floor, no one pays attention to this mismatched couple, to the determined man dragging a struggling woman behind him.

The door closes heavily behind them, stifling the sounds of the party, captured on the other side. It's cold outside, she feels it because her whole body shivers. But she, who was cold just a short while ago, feels like she's boiling. She raises her hand to her forehead, wiping away another bead of sweat that's formed between her eyebrows. What's happening to me? she thinks internally, troubled. Alcohol has never put her in such a state before.

"I'm so glad I ran into you tonight," Livio begins, either oblivious or indifferent to the young woman's condition.

She doesn't respond, feeling her head spinning, leaning against the wall behind her, gasping to try to catch her breath. Trying to control the burning heat that's engulfing her body.

"You look really beautiful tonight. Quite a change from the work overalls, huh!" the man continues.

She's not exactly sure at what moment he slipped between her legs, facing her, just a few centimeters from her face. But he's there, too close, forcing her to turn her head to the side to avoid his gaze - and his alcohol-laden breath.

"I said, you look really beautiful tonight," Livio says. "Are you not going to say anything?"

"What do you expect me to say to that?" she says, jaw clenched.

"Do you find me attractive?" the man asks, meeting her gaze.

The warning signals reappear along with the nausea. She barely has time to push the man away and lean to the side before emptying her stomach inches away from his feet. The naivety stops there. The pieces of the puzzle fall into place, realization hitting her painfully.

"What did you do to me?" she asks, her knees giving way under her weight, sending her crashing to the ground. He sneers, rolling his eyes, as she crawls a few meters, trying to put some distance between them. She's now sitting on the ground, her back to the wall.

"What? What are you talking about?" the Italian replies, offended.

"Did you put something in my drink?" she asks again.

"Come on, now. I've been helping you ever since you said you weren't feeling well. What kind of monster do you think I am?"

For a moment, her colleague's wounded look makes her seriously doubt herself. Maybe it really is just the alcohol, she thinks, trying to calm her racing mind. After all, why would someone deliberately choose to harm her? Why jump to that conclusion? Livio has always been charming. A bit clingy, but charming.

"I'm sorry for implying that. I'm gonna head back inside," she says, trying to stand up.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Livio answers, pushing her back down.

"What? why?" she asks, surprised.

"It wouldn't be very wise to parade in front of your colleagues and superiors in such a poor state," the Italian begins, his tone almost mocking. "It really doesn't give a good impression of you. It's not very professional."

"I haven't done anything, just had a few drinks," she responds, annoyed. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"You're so wasted you can't even stand. At a work event. Do you want to get fired or something?"

She opens her mouth to speak, to defend herself, but no words come out. She can't seem to figure out if Livio is with her or against her anymore. His words are harsh, aggressive, but deep down, the engineer probably isn't wrong. She struggled to secure a position here, at Ferrari. Even though she believes herself to be fairly skilled at her job and puts in long hours, there are hundreds of others doing the same work as her every day. And hundreds more who could replace her if the need arose.

She's not indispensable. She's not even that good at speaking Italian, having always had more ease in English or in French, even though she spends the majority of her evenings reading books in the language. She's just a tiny cog in the machine. She thinks about Carlos, too. What would he think, seeing me stumbling in the middle of the dance floor like a mad woman?

"Let me drive you home," Livio says, extending his hand. "Spare you the embarrassment."

She hadn't realized how tired she was. The offer is rather tempting. Getting back to her apartment, her cat, her bed. Above all, escaping the crowd. Forgetting this evening. Forgetting whatever she thought there was with Carlos, too, while she's at it. As a stronger wave of sleep washes over her, she temporarily closes her eyes.

"Come on," he says. "Let's get you in the car."

After her brain, her legs refuse to cooperate too. Her body barricades itself, trying to keep her firmly sheltered. Losing patience, Livio hoists her up, throwing her over his shoulder. She wants to protest against the position she finds herself in. That's so unladylike. Her last few connected neurons grapple over strange thoughts. I hope nobody sees my underwear, she thinks before her brain disconnects once again.

She's so far gone, yet the next words sound crystal-clear in her ears.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

Sounds like Carlos, she thinks, delirious.

"What does it look like to you? I'm bringing her home. She's wasted," she hears, and she thinks it might be Livio, because she feels his body shaking with each words.

"There's no way I'm letting you leave with her. Put her down."

"Yeah? So you can have your way with her?"

"No, so I can punch you in the fucking face," the accent-thick voice shouts.

She must have passed out for good because she doesn't remember anything else. When she wakes up next, which feels like an eternity later, she's sitting against a wall, this time indoors, wrapped in a golden emergency blanket. There's no more music. Opening one eye, then the next, she's met with Carlos' brown ones. She tries to speak but her mouth feels dry. The Spaniard hands her a glass of water, helping her bring it to her lips.

"I somehow managed to look even worse," she jokes, reminiscing their earlier encounter.

"The paramedics have just arrived. They're going to take you to the hospital for a check-up," he says and she nods.

"Thank you, Carlos," she replies.

"I haven't done the half of what I would have wanted," he says, regret filling his voice.

"What do you mean?"

"This has to be the worst timing ever, but I... I actually wanted to ask you out, before Charles interrupted us and before, well... this," he says, gesturing around them.

He doesn't see it, but hidden under the blanket, she pinches her arm. Hard. Just to make sure she won't wake up a second time. Seeing that nothing changes, she lets out a little laugh.

"If you wanted me to wear that silky green dress, I'm so sorry, but I ruined it in the washer."

"You can wear a garbage bag for all I care," Carlos replies, looking at her fondly. "You'll still stand out in the crowd."

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 imagine #carlos sainz #charles leclerc #formula1 #f1 2024 #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you

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nocturnalcharm · 21 days

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Faking It - Part Two (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

𐙚 prompt: part 2 of this fic! 𐙚 cw: smut!! unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), rough, name calling, blowjob, hair pulling, dom!logan sub!reader, creampie, hehe 𐙚 a/n: thank u to everyone who asked for a part 2 :) sorry it’s kinda short, i felt so bad ab making everyone wait :(( i’ve been writing for 10+ yrs for fun but ive never written a smut before so im aware its not the greatest but ill get better with practice :,)

**Tumblr will not let me tag anyone and I cant figure out why! I apologize for not tagging anyone who said they wanted to be tagged**

18+ blog!! you are responsible for your own media consumption. if any of the above makes you uncomfortable, do not proceed.

“Y’know, if you keep rubbing your ass against my dick, I’m gonna do something about it.” His words sounded gruff in your ear, but they gave you butterflies.

“Maybe that’s what I want.”

It slipped out of your mouth before you even knew what you were saying. Your face burned hot, hoping he would think you were just joking and ignore it.

But you weren’t. You might not have meant to say it out loud, but it’s definitely how you felt.

“That so, huh?” You could tell from his voice he had a smug look on his face.

You turned over, laying on your back and looking at him. “Maybe...”

“Y’know, I could tell something was different today.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“That tiny little bikini. You sitting in my lap. These adorable little panties that you're wearing.” His fingers slipped under the sides of your underwear, daring to pull them down. “Do you have any fucking idea what you do to me?”

You stared at him. Most of those things were just purely coincidental, but you didn’t care anymore. You two were finally recognizing that it wasn’t hate or annoyance between you both… It was lust. It was desire. It was need.

You grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down into a fervent kiss. It felt so right. You gasped for air in the brief moments you two pulled away.

You pushed him over, so he was now on the bottom, and straddled his waist. It only made the make-out hotter, physically; The room felt like it was on fire. You started to grind your hips down onto him, and you could feel how badly he wanted you through his pajama pants.

You started to slowly kiss your way down to his hips, taking your time.

“Enough with the teasin’.”

You looked up at him through your lashes, as you slowly pulled down his pajamas and boxers, only tormenting him more. Once his cock was free, you silently gawked at his size. You took him in your hands, stroking him a few times before trying to fit him in your mouth. You sucked on his tip and he moaned.

The sounds he let out were like music, causing you to work hard, wanting to hear it again. You continued to suck, adding more and more of his length into your mouth, and using your hand to jerk off what you couldn’t fit.

His hands found their way to your hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail and helping you bob up and down. He pushed you down slightly further, making you deepthroat him. You gagged, instinctively, and pulled away to catch your breath.

“Fuck.” He groaned. “I’m sorry. Was that okay?” He was clearly worried he’d hurt or upset you in some way, considering you two hadn’t exactly gone over your boundaries. It was sweet, how he was checking in on you. But you didn’t want ‘sweet’.

“Just shut up and use me.”

Those words unleashed something inside of him. With his hands still holding your hair, he gripped harder, pulling you back to look at him.

“Oh, I see. You liked to be used like a good little slut, huh?”

“Mhm.” You nodded enthusiastically.

“Good.” He pushed your head down, forcing your mouth to take his cock all the way down your throat. You barely had to do any work, as he used the grip on your hair to move you up and down. You could feel your panties getting wet just from sucking him off.

“You’re doing such a good job. You love sucking my cock, don’t you?”

You moaned around him in response.

“Say it. Say you love it.”

You came up just long enough to speak, before continuing to deepthroat him, “I love it.”

He let go of your hair, grabbing the sides of your face instead, and started to pound your throat. Tears formed in your eyes as you gagged.

“Your turn.” He growled.

“No.” You stopped. “I just want you to fuck me.”

He stared at you. “Then beg.”

“Please, Lo. Please just fuck me. Need to feel you inside me.”

“Take that shirt off.”

You slipped your tee over your head and threw it across the room. He stared at your bare chest, grabbing one of your breasts and squeezing it. He flipped you over so you were on your stomach. Then, he gripped your hips, pulling them so your ass was in the air. You felt his tip teasing your slick entrance. He pushed in slowly, letting you adjust to his size.

“Fuck. You feel so good. Like this pussy was made for me.”

He wasn’t even in all the way, before you pushed back, taking the remaining inches of his cock.

“Mm, such a good slut for me.” He groaned. He grabbed your hair again, and started fucking you at a harsh pace, pulling your head back. You moaned as he thrusted into you, unable to form any coherent thoughts. He felt so good inside of you.

After a few more minutes of thrusting and moaning, he pulled out and flipped you over again. He put your legs over his shoulders and immediately started fucking you again. Your legs started to shake.

“Takin’ my fucking cock like a good girl.”

“Lo, M’gonna cum.” You whimpered.

“Me too.” He grunted, “Fuck. Where do you want it?”

“Inside.”

He was a little shocked, but hid it from you. “Yeah? You want me to fill you up?”

“Yes! Please, Lo.”

He leaned down, kissing you while he continued pounding. Your legs were up by your head. He pulled away from the kiss and held your legs down. His cock was hitting your cervix in a delicious way that made you feel like you were on cloud nine.

You clenched around him tightly as you finished, digging your nails into his back, and surely leaving marks for later.

He groaned as his thrusts got more erratic, then slowing. You felt his hot cum pour into you, as he fucked it deeper into you.

He stayed still for a moment, “Are you okay?”

You nodded, and he got up and wet a towel. He wiped you down, and you couldn’t help but smile. “So, how come we never did that before?”

***

The next morning, you woke up to your phone ringing. It was Xavier. You shook Logan awake and answered the phone, putting it on speaker.

“Good morning, Charles.”

“Good morning. The mission is over, so you two may head back today after check-out.”

“What? We didn’t even complete it?” You were confused.

“Yes. There is no mission. The real mission was to get you and Logan to get along and it seems that was accomplished last night. You two may continue to stay at the hotel until the original check-out date, 2 days from now, or you can come back today. It’s your choice.”

“I- Okay. Thanks, Professor.”

You hung up the phone, face beat red.

“I’m going to kill him.”

#saige speaks #wolverine #logan howlett #logan fanfic #logan fanfiction #logan fluff #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine fanfic #logan x reader #logan smut #logan howlett fluff #bg3 #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine smut #xmen wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine fluff

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carrionne0 · 11 months

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THINGS TO DO WITH YOUR OCS

If you’re like me and you like to play around with your OCs a lot, here’s some things you can do with them!

ART & CRAFTS

Put your OCs in character scenario memes! Here’s some I found on Deviantart.

Do an art trade where you draw someone’s OC and they draw yours!

Use those "Draw The Squad" templates and draw your OCs.

Crochet/knit/sew/etc. a plushie of your OC.

You can also make a paper doll! You can find tons of tutorials on youtube.

You can also make a figure of them out of something like clay, cardboard, or another material.

You can build them out of Legos!

You can also create a hand or finger puppet of them.

Draw a comic featuring your characters!

Create an animation of your character.

Draw your characters as animals!

Create pixel art of your OC! Maybe even make it look like video game sprites.

Draw your characters as playing card designs.

Draw your characters as tarot card designs (Suggested by @ultragirl-parsley)

Create a coloring book full of your OCs!

Create a large cardboard cutout of your character. There are tons of tutorials online!

Put your OCs as designs on cookies, cakes, etc. (I kinda want to do this one but I know it won't turn out well for me 'cuz I suck at handling food T_T)

Design your OC's home.

Make a board game about your OCs and their story

Make Minecraft skins of your characters

INTERNET

Make your OCs in picrew or other dress-up things!

Create a character playlist on Spotify or other music site!

Create a Pinterest board with inspo for your OCs! Maybe outfits they’d wear, a moodboard, etc.

Reblog those “tag your OC as” blogs! They usually have a prompt and you can reblog it and tag which OC it describes. Here’s a few blogs which do this: Tag Your OC on Tumblr develop your oc on Tumblr Daily Asks for your OC (tumblr.com)

Take quizzes as your OC! You can find some on Quotev or IDRLabs.

Make a roleplay account as your OC.

Create a quiz on Quotev about your OC. Maybe something like, "Would my OC like you," "How similar are you to my OC," etc.

Put your OCs in the incorrect quote generator.

Find OC questionnaires and templates online.

Create a page on your Tumblr just for your OC! You can include things like a character sheet, general facts, your posts about them, etc.

WRITING

Do character exercises for them! You can find a lot of these on the internet, but here’s an example.

Write from your OC's perspective. It'll help you understand them better!

Create a list of media they enjoy. Maybe movies, video games, songs, etc.

Write a song (or just lyrics) about your OC or parts of their story.

Write a random story about their childhood!

Create an in-universe news report from your OC's world.

Write a poem about your OC.

OTHER

Put your OCs in character alignment memes! Here’s some from a search on Pinterest.

Create voice headcanons for your OCs. Here’s an example of Vivziepop’s for Hazbin Hotel..

Play as your character in video games! Like, maybe design your character in Miitopia or Sims.

Do some theatre improv games as if you were your OC.

Edit your OC on to pride flags.

Also, you could maybe make those like, Tiktok edits of your OC? (Y'know the ones I'm talking about?)

Create an AU version of your characters! (I’ll create a list of AU ideas soon! :D)

Have your characters solve the trolley problem and other moral conudruums.

Cosplay as your OC!

Create ship names for your characters!

You can also find baby names that your OC might like or something.

Create a visual novel/dating sim in Google Slides (or if you can code, you can do it like that!)

Create a crossword/word search relating to your characters and story.

Answer "Would you rather?"questions as your character.

Find poems that remind you of your OC.

Make family trees.

If anyone has anymore ideas, please tell me and I’ll add them to the list!!

#oc #original character #list #oc creator #oc artist #original character artist #original character creator #oc challenge #ocs #masterlist #things to do #artists on tumblr #writers on tumblr

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wave2tyun · 6 months

Text

apple cider | ☆

pairing: huening kai x reader

genre: fluff, childhood friends to lovers

summary: you were foolishly blind to the feelings you held for your best friend, huening kai, until one they, they started to bottle up like soda pop

warnings: slight injury?? nothing serious<3

word count: 3.5k

a/n: apple cider by beabadoobee has been ON REPEAT!!!! these past few days!!!!1!1! which is why i believed it might be the perfect time to bring this fic back!!😋 i love love love writing things based on songs, and this is (obviously asbdsjha) where the inspo for this fic came from, as well as the studio ghibli movie 'from up on poppy hill'!! :D also, is it just me or do 24 hours in a day simply not feel like enough anymore......?😖

☆ = repost from my old blog!!

huening kai was the definition of a sweetheart. grandmas loved him, animals adored him, he was the type of boy anybody's parents would be delighted to meet if you brought him home. and most importantly, he was your best friend.

you and kai met in kindergarten. your very first interaction happened when your parents were late to pick you up, so you, a sensitive child started crying a river. kai was even faster than the teacher to approach you, napkin in his hand and a sweet smile on his face. he patted your back until your parents arrived, sometimes cracking some pokemon impressions in an attempt to make you smile again like he saw you earlier that morning. during your arts and crafts session the next day, you made kai a sloppy drawing of his favorite pokemon character, which, to this day, he insists is the greatest gift he has ever received, the treasured piece of paper sitting in a frame on his nightstand to remain in pristine condition.

from that day on, you only ended up spending more and more time together. you switched seats so that you could sit next to each other during classes, played together during breaks and became lunch buddies, an unspoken promise which had been kept during primary school, middle school, and even now, as you were both high school students in your last year. kai grew up to be a piano prodigy, thus becoming the president of the school's music club. you, on the other hand, wasn't any interested in any extracurricular activities, preferring to stay in bed and sleep your day away on the days where your parents weren't attacking you with house chores. still, you and kai were stuck together like glue. you talked on the phone every day at midnight, rambling on about your day or about anything that crossed your mind; you tried your best to meet up outside of school whenever your schedules allowed, popping a cold bottle of your favorite sweet apple cider.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

your eyes scanned the tables for kai once again. he told you to meet up at the outside dining area, but 15 minutes had passed and he was nowhere to be seen. you huffed, placing your tray down at a table where some of your classmates sat. ‘can’t believe he’d ditch me today’ you angrily pierced the straw through your milk carton.

the sound of a loud horn startled you, making you almost choke on your drink. the highest windows of the school were opened with a bang, paper scrolls coming out of them, followed by the heads of some students as they were peeking out.

“are those the club leaders?” someone at your table asked.

“yeah...seems like so” yunjin answered “what are they up to now?”

you shielded your eyes with your hand, squinting as you tried to read the words written on the papers.

‘lack of freedom kills the people’

“they’re protesting” you broke the silence, making everyone’s head turn towards you “the principal has been wanting to shut down the clubs”

some students gathered around the dining area, they moved in sync and with fast movements, taking out the grate that was placed over the water basin outside. you shrugged, going back to your meal. you weren’t exactly sure what they were going to achieve with this. not even a minute later, yunjin gave you a tap on the shoulder, pointing towards the roof.

“isn’t that-“ she stopped midway, unable to finish her sentence. your face was instantly drained of color at the sight.

it was huening kai.

“what the hell is he doing up there” you mumbled, frowning. you didn’t have a good feeling about this- whatever this was.

huening kai had a bright smile plastered on his face, the whole school’s attention being on him. he coughed then cleared his throat before loudly speaking.

“if our words weren’t enough to reach principal Jung, then that means that it is time for us to turn to actions” he inched closer towards the edge of the roof. his voice remained confident, but his hands betrayed him, shaking as he held the mic close to his chest.

you gulped. you felt nauseous, an empty feeling was taking over your stomach despite the distance between the roof and the ground not being that high.

“if you don’t want to respect us- we will make ourselves heard” huening kai turned his head, looking back at the boys behind him, who gave him a short nod. then, he put the mic down, taking a deep breath before diving into the air, aiming for the water basin.

the plan was easier said than done, and kai stumbled into a bush before landing down on his knees in the shallow water. the members of the photography club were quick to capture the moment, just like you were quick to jump out of your seat and approach the boy. “are you okay-“ you reached your hand out to help him stand up. kai’s smile never faltered away, and once he was back on his feet, he gave you a wink as he clasped your hands together. the bright flashes of the cameras surrounded you in an instant, the photographers pushing through to get “the best shot”.

your cheeks turned a bright shade of red, and you let go of his hands, mumbling as you went back to your seat “stupid- so stupid” you continued to stuff your face with the sandwich you had packed in your lunch bag. why was your face burning that much anyway- you shook your head, trying to ignore the thoughts invading your mind, as well as the hushed whispers coming from all around you. you couldn’t let such foolish actions disturb your day.

kai, as usual, still called you that night. you, however, loved being stubborn. when you saw his name coming up on the screen of your phone, you contemplated for a few minutes, before swiping to deny the call. ‘that should teach him’ you thought. barely a minute later, you were already regretting your decision. you were still mad at him, yet, for some reason, you still wanted to hear his voice, just like every other night. it never mattered to you whether it was a proper conversation. you didn’t care what kai would be talking about- you just wanted to feel like you had him, in some way, close to you, though your pride didn’t allow you to be the one to initiate another call. why was it that you wished to hear him so badly? after all, you didn’t even like him...right? or at least- you didn’t even like him that much- right?

you tossed and turned in your bed, unable to let your eyelids close.

fuck.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

dark circles adored your eyes as a result of the poor sleep you had last night. you wished you could skip the first period and remain in bed for just a few minutes more, but your mom wasn’t having any of that. she took the blanket off your bed and opened your window, forcing you to get up and get ready for the day.

you stood in the hallway, head buried in the school’s newspaper, which teased ‘a revolution’ as well as ‘an endearing romance’ with a big image of you and kai holding hands on the front page.

“is there any way i could make it up to you?” you heard a voice near you.

you closed your locker’s door, kai’s face coming into sight, grinning as always. you wanted to ignore him for the day, pretending to be mad at him for the embarrassment that he had put you through the day before. but kai knew you too well- he had already anticipated your reaction to his stunt, and he wasn’t going to let you get rid of him so easily.

“depends. do you have anything in mind?” you crossed your arms, leaning on your side against the locker.

“apple cider, 10 pm at the playground. sounds good?”

you bit your lip to fight back the smile that was threatening to take over your face. looking down at the floor, you chuckled.

“i guess that would suffice. we’ll see”

the bell rang, signaling the end of your break. kai took the chance to quickly ruffle your hair before sprinting to his class. ‘dork’ you snorted, putting it back into place before going your own way.

you were quick to prepare dinner that day. both of your parents were taken aback by the stark change in your attitude compared to how you behaved in the morning, the sudden surge in energy being questionable. they chose not to bring it up though, afraid that they might ruin your mood. you arrived at the playground at 10 pm sharp and sat on one of the swings there, protecting the other vacant one from the kids that still lingered around until kai came. and soon enough, there he was, apple cider bottles in his hands (just like he promised) as he approached you. you smiled at the sight.

“are you that happy to see me?”

“you wish- i’m just happy to receive the apple cider” you joked, lying through your teeth.

“ah- i’m hurt” hueningkai frowned, dramatically putting a hand over his heart. you laughed at his cute antics. he took his place on the swing, handing you one bottle.

“that jumper looks pretty on you, i like it”

“t-thanks” you stuttered, looking down, failing to see the tips of his ears turning pink. you took a sip from the bottle, the taste so refreshing and all too familiar.

“so- did you manage to convince the principal not to shut down the clubs?”

kai chuckled, reminiscing the events “yeah-“ he stood up, putting his hands on his hips and clearing his throat before speaking again with an exaggerated lower voice “never in my 40 years in this field have i ever seen such- such outrageous actions” pinching the bridge of his nose, he continued “whatever, just do whatever you want. at this point it’s less of a pain to let you continue than to cancel everything”

you burst into laughter at his silly act. kai always had his imitations spot on, and to you, it was much more entertaining than any kind of comedy movie.

“i’m glad it wasn’t all in vain” your smile died down upon noticing the bandages wrapped around his hand “is your hand okay though?”

“oh- yeah, don’t worry about it, it’s just a scratch” he replied quickly, stuffing it in the pocket of his jacket before sitting back down. you sat in silence for a while after that, kicking around the pebbles underneath your feet.

“i’m sorry” kai whispered softly.

“hm? sorry for what?” you frowned.

“sorry for getting you involved in this, it wasn’t supposed to be like that- i told the other members of the club to remove the picture from the article but they didn’t listen”

“hey- it’s okay” you reassured him “it was out of your control, it wasn’t like you knew this whole fiasco was going to unfold”

“but-“ he tried to argue,

“no buts” you interrupted him, laughing “whatever happened, happened. plus- i got to drink some apple cider. even better since it was with you- so, it’s all good”

kai returned your smile, he seemed to be a bit more at ease after hearing those words. you wished that you could have found the strength to get up and give him a hug too, but you were too afraid that your heart would burst if you did that now.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“i’m home” you shouted as you stepped inside the house. leaving your bag on the floor in the hallway, you dragged your feet to the kitchen and put on the apron to get started on your dinner. your parents never got off work before your classes ended, meaning that the responsibility of preparing food for everybody always fell on you. you opened the cabinet underneath the sink to get some potatoes, but your hand reached out into nothingness. confused, you crouched down to have a better look. your face dropped as you realised that there was nothing left inside. that one vegetable was the whole star of the dish, meaning that there was simply no way to substitute it.

‘shit shit shit-‘ you stormed out the door, wanting to slap yourself in the face as you recalled the moment your mother asked you to stop by the farmer’s market in the morning. maybe, just this once, the traffic would be jammed and your parents wouldn’t be so quick to return home from work. you struggled to put on your jumper as you also held a basket in your hand, wanting to be as quick as possible. just as you were about to make your way down, you someone called out from behind you:

“need a ride?” kai was riding his bike to his grandparents, but stopped in his tracks upon seeing you in such a hurried and panicked state.

“god- yes, please” you fumbled over your words. the timing couldn’t have been any more perfect; you were so grateful to see him there, you could almost see a ray of light shining on him and a halo on top of his head.

“have a seat then” he laughed.

you quickly sat down in the back of kai’s bicycle. looking down at the steep path in front of you, you gulped “are you sure it’s okay for us to ride together?”

“just hold on tight” kai took hold of your hands and wrapped them around his torso before pressing on one pedal with his foot. you couldn’t even brace yourself properly for the impact as you went down the hill of doom; your head instantly hit kai’s muscular back, and you found yourself holding his body tighter. you closed your eyes, trying to shift your focus from the citizens passing by you in a blur, to the sweet scent of his fruit-punch shampoo invading your senses. kai swiftly took a turn to the left, effortlessly avoiding all the possible obstacles in his path. thankfully, you both made it to the farmer’s market in one piece.

sighing in relief, you lifted yourself up and walked to the nearest vegetable stall around. kai remained right next to you, making a purchase of his own. he munched on a freshly fried hashbrown as you did the necessary shopping, holding a second piece in his other hand.

“all done” your shoulders slumped down, the whole thing had drained you both physically and mentally. you quirked an eyebrow as you looked at kai eating.

“what?” he asked, throwing the last piece of food in his mouth “i need energy to go back”

“right” you sighed “thank you so much. i might live to see another day because of you” you tried to joke. in reality, the thought of your parents scolding you alone was enough to make your heart start beating faster.

“don’t worry about it” he chuckled “here- take this” he handed you the hashbrown he had been holding. you took it reluctantly, not having expected to receive something like this.

“eat it- it’s good. plus, you need energy too” kai grabbed his bicycle again, positioning himself on the leather seat “i have to go now, you should probably hurry too.” he smiled “take care, y/n” kai sent you a little wave before setting off. you stood on the side of the road for one more moment, smiling at the hashbrown in your hand. you took the first bite as you started to go up the hill again, the worries that were clouding your head quickly disappearing.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

somehow, soon enough, you found yourself in front of kai’s house. you wanted to thank him for his sweet gesture from a few days ago. if it weren’t for him, your parents would have probably kept you locked in the house. you didn’t know what you were going to say to him. staring at the box of cookies you brought with you, you tried to muster up the courage to knock on the door.

knock knock knock

you waited patiently, biting your lips.

‘maybe there’s still enough time to run-‘

“y/n- hi, come in” kai opened the door, greeting you.

“hi” you blurted out. stepping inside, you took off your shoes, then silently followed behind kai as he guided you towards his room. piano sheets were spread out everywhere- on the floor, on his desk, on his bed. you’ve never seen it look like such a mess.

“oh- sorry, were you practicing?”

“tried to- the music festival is just around the corner, but the song choices are killing me”

“can you show me?” you asked, it was always a pleasure to hear kai practicing, but this time, you were also using this as an excuse to organise your thoughts properly.

“yeah, come here” kai patted the empty space beside him on the piano bench. you hugged the cookie box close to your chest, the short distance between the two of you making you feel nervous.

kai’s fingers glided along the black and white tiles, wrist playfully flicking up as he changed up the speed with ease to create a flawless, harmonious symphony. it sounded perfect- it always did.

“that was great” you spoke softly as he finished up the piece.

“wanna try?” kai offered.

“s-sure” you stuttered, putting down the box. somehow, despite all those years that you’ve known each other, you had never given learning piano a try.

kai took hold of your right hand, placing it on the keys “you have to use the pad of your fingers” he put his hand over yours, gently pressing down to demonstrate. you prayed that he couldn’t hear the loud sound of your palpitating heart “then- move your wrist up before moving on to the next set of notes, then down, like a feather falling” you started to feel light-headed, the feeling of kai’s warm hands on yours making you unable to concentrate on the task at hand. you looked up at him, his face now much closer to you than when you first started practicing. kai’s hand stopped guiding yours, yet didn’t let go of it. he glanced at you, his gaze stopping on your plush, rosy lips.

“holding you closer right now- would that cross the line?” he spoke softly, in a daze.

“maybe i want you to cross the line” you whispered back.

kai stood still for a moment, letting your words sink in. then- with gentle movements, his hand came to rest on your jawline, thumb rubbing against your cheek. he seemed nervous- so nervous to not ruin all of your built-up relationship up until that point. but fuck it- you looked so pretty with that jumper he adored, sitting gingerly on his piano chair, inviting him to finally feel his lips on yours. how was he supposed to resist? and when kai closed the gap, his mouth meeting yours in a gentle peck, it felt so incredibly right, so good and sweet.

one more peck.

his body shifted even closer to you.

another one.

his hand came to rest on your lower back, yours grabbed hold of his soft black sweater.

and once more- but this time, you both let the touch last longer, melting into the feeling.

“can i kiss you more?” kai asked, voice barely above a whisper, his thumb was caressing your lips as he spoke. you nodded, eager to indulge yourself into the taste of his sweet kiss. you hummed as he pressed his lips on yours again, the butterflies in your heart unable to settle down. he grinned into the kiss at the sound, his heart felt warm knowing that you wanted this, and enjoyed this just as much as he did. you pulled away, giving the mole at the corner of his lips a kiss, then you left another on the one near his temple, ending with the one you adored most, the one on his nose. you cupped his face, the temperature of his cheeks rising against your fingertips. kai chuckled as you hid your face in the crook of his neck, the adoration you felt towards him becoming almost too much to handle.

“do you want to stay the night?” kai asked bashfully, his fingers playing with one of your sleeves “i have some apple cider left” he looked up at you, eyes gleaming with hope.

“of course i want to” you giggled, dipping down to leave another peck on his soft lips.

3 bottles of apple cider down, you and kai laid down on the bed, legs tangled with each other as he played with your hair and you braided his. you joked around, playing with the plushies on his bed, sometimes stealing kisses on the cheek from each other and falling into another fit of shy giggles yet again. and when you finally drifted off to sleep, hand in hand, you swore you had never felt your heart feel more at ease.

@huekalover3000 @maybabe00 @sunoooism @boba-beom

#wave2tyun #txt #txt fluff #txt x reader #txt fic #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt smau #txt headcanons #txt huening kai #huening kai fluff #huening kai scenarios #huening kai fic #huening kai x reader #huening kai imagines #huening kai headcanons

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doumadono · 10 months

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your writing is so good i regret all the time in my life when i didn’t know ur blog exists sksksksksksksks.... anyway! Sinful Sunday please. may i ask a fic about Wriothesley feeling so horny and his girl is cooking in the kitchen and just BAM bend over the counter? sink? whatever?? fr im a simp for Wrio 🥵 you can skip this if you’re uncomfortable but i hope you can write it 🤧 thank you and have a good day! ✨

SINFUL SUNDAY

In your shared apartment with Wriothesley, you were occupied chopping vegetables, immersed in the rhythm of the music. Life in that moment couldn't get any better.

"Miss me, babe?" Wriothesley growled in your ear from behind, his strong, firm body pressed against your back.

"Wriothesley!" you exclaimed. "Don't sneak on me like that!" You pushed at his shoulder, trying to move him away with limited success. He was away the entire morning, engrossed in crucial meetings and other commitments. In response, you took it upon yourself to prepare a delightful dinner for his return.

His lips lightly tickled your neck. "I just missed you." His fingers skillfully slipped inside your cotton panties you wore under your dress, playfully teasing your folds.

"Stop!" you whispered urgently, feeling his finger slipping into your pussy. "The guards might hear."

"Not if you stay quiet," Wriothesley declared with a smirk, deftly dealing with his pants and belt.

Instead of offering a retort, you moaned as he skillfully pulled your panties to the side, hitched up your dress, and entered you from behind.

"You're so tight, babe," Wriothesley purred into your ear. "And wet. Does it turn you on knowing that at any moment, one of my guards could catch a glimpse?" He thrust fast into you, pressing your hips into the counter, inducing a slight discomfort.

Leaning over the counter, you allowed the Duke to delve even deeper inside. As he fervently pounded into you, soft whimpers and moans escaped your lips, and the brink of your release loomed tantalizingly close.

Unable to contain yourself, you let out a loud moan, laying your front on the counter and hastily pushing aside the knife, chopping board, and veggies. Your arousal caused your pussy to clench a few times around his throbbing cock.

Unexpectedly, a male voice reached your ears. "Your Grace, the Iudex wants to see you!" one of his guards announced, fortunately from the doorway.

Wriothesley thrust into you, covering your mouth as he continued to pound you into the counter; his thrusts gaining intensity. "Oh, is that so?"

"Yes, Your Grace," the guard managed to say, "he mentioned it's something of high importance."

You moaned in satisfaction as the waves of your orgasm crashed through you; you rolled your hips for even more friction.

Wriothesley grunted triumphantly as he spilled his thick seed into you. "I'm coming!" he proclaimed, a mix of a yell and a moan.

Breathing heavily, Wriothesley slumped against you. Wriothesley withdrew his hand, pulled out, and neatly tucked himself back into his pants. You swiftly readjusted your panties and dress, and efficiently tossed the veggies onto the plate.

In a parting move, Wriothesley delivered a quick slap to your ass, a cocky punctuation to the encounter. "You're the best girlfriend I've ever had, Y/N. I love surprising you like that."

You shot him a sassy look over your shoulder. "Why am I not surprised?"

#doumadonos sinful sunday 🔥#sinful sunday #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley x reader smut #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x you #wrio smut #wrio x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin smut #divider by cafekitsune

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branded-rose · 4 months

Text

“Right, hold tight babe. After all these years, it’s finally happening. You and me, we’re hitting the dance floor!” In one swift motion, he hoisted her up over his shoulder and strode out to the packed crowd, Lute’s protests drowned out by the thumping music.

Lute propped herself up with her arms, doing her best to wriggle off of his shoulder as she was unwillingly carried to the dance floor.

Normally, she might’ve protested more. But the alcohol, admittedly, was beginning to get to her, if not entirely overwhelm her.

Her self-restraint was reasonably inhibited at the very least. At the most? She was pleasantly numb. And for once… that was nice?

She didn’t have to worry about the stack of paperwork or what the seraphim might say if they heard about this party in the morning.

She could just… exist and do what she wanted.

In other words, she found herself giddy, a small giggle escaping her lips as she was carried on.

“Sir. I… can’t dance.” Or at least she’d never danced before to her knowledge. Never mind whatever… dancing was being done in that moment.

She felt the world spin as she felt Adam whip her off his shoulder, nearly stumbling backwards as she landed unsteadily on her feet.

Adam caught her hand, pulling her back into him.

“What? That’s ******* ridiculous. ANYONE and their mother can dance if they want to.” He placed his other hand on her waist to steady her.

She felt her face heat up again, very aware of the close proximity of their bodies.

She didn’t pull back though.

“… I’ll follow you.”

Adam pulled a smirk, bringing his hand up to tap near her ear.

“Just listen to the music. Move with the beat!” He started sliding side to side, his movements getting gradually more overt the longer the song carried on.

She watched him, trying to copy, her brows furrowed in concentration. Every so often her eyes would flick to his face, looking for reassurance that she was doing it right.

She apparently was not, given he chuckled and shook his head. Or she assumed he chuckled at least. She could barely hear him over the music.

“Dangertits! You need to LOOSEN. UP. Here-“ He moved to stand behind her, his hands finding her hips and applying just enough pressure for her to get the hint that she needed to move.

She stiffened briefly as she felt his chin near her ear, his hot breath on her neck.

“Move WITH me, not against me. Come on you’re stiff as a board.” He moved his hand up the tiniest bit, cackling as her wings tried to flap involuntarily but were kept immobile by his proximity.

In her defense she wasn’t really listening to the music. She couldn’t really hear it over the roaring of her heart in her ears.

Was she breathing?

Air might be good.

She took a very loud, deep breath.

“Sorry S-IR!” She was cut off as Adam took her hand and spun her very quickly, only to immediately snap her back towards him before she had any time to process what was going on.

“There we go! Get those feet going!”

A laugh erupted from Lute’s lips as she was spun around again.

“Sir!”

Adam snickered, his arms coming around to trap her against him as her momentum carried them close once more.

His mouth found her ear so that she could hear him.

“Did I just hear the most bad*** ***** in the army laugh? No blood? No guts? Just laugh on the dance floor?”

----------------------------

Drunk minds speak sober thoughts~

I am overly excited to announce that the amazing @deadgirlwalking91 and I have been working on a Guitarspear fic together! It was originally supposed to be short but it turned into something WAY more expansive than we ever thought it could be initially. I am so, SO glad we started this project because it has been an ABSOLUTE joy to write.

Stay tuned for the full release of "Drunk Minds Speak Sober Thoughts" on her blog. ;D

#adam x lute #guitarspear #brandedroseart #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel adam #deadgirlwalking91

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ioniansunsets · 11 months

Note

I JUST FOUND YOUR BLOG AND OMG

hey imma need that confession Heartsteel Kayn moment yannoooo… fr all I’ve been thinking about 😳😳😳

✖ Heartsteel!Kayn Confessing ✖

✖ Word Count: 1.2k

✖ Tags: Awkward Confessions

✖ A/N: Reader here is just someone who works at his studio! He met you as Heartsteel slowly begun to start out and get ready for debut. Also writing this with that one ask about him writing a song about this exact moment in mind. Heehee!

I was reading some fanfics on my side and got filled with so much adrenaline and emotions I spat this out. I got very very very carried away writing this. I hope its not too OOC. Thank you for asking for this, I couldn't stop thinking about writing it.

----

It sucked. It fucking sucked. The way his heart raced when you were near.

The loud thumping against his chest. He hated it.

He hated how vulnerably and un-badass it made him feel. How the high he got from you rivaled that of the stage.

How your voice played over and over in his mind more than any melody he knew. How your laughter made his knees weak. It made Him. Weak!

He hated. He loathed. He grunts in frustration as he rocks out hard on his guitar. Fingers picking at the strings, a sick solo riff but it was for no one but himself.

Oh, how he did arguably stupider things than usual when he saw you watching. Showing off to you he jumped off a stage once. Which is not too far off from usual but it was to no audience! It was during a practice run! He did it just to flex to you that he was cool! Fucking embarrassing to remember but he did! All because you were standing nearby! How could you do such a thing to him!

The absolute frustration he was filled with. Not pent up rage, not a craving for violence and destruction, but affection? Undeniable. Overflowing. Drowning and choking him. Affection!

He finally threw his guitar on the ground. Breathing heavy. Hands running through his hair to push away the hair that has fell to his face in his little jam session. Hands wiping away the sweat. No matter how long he played, how fast his fingers pressed the strings, how frantically he strummed away. How he still played, chipping his painted nails when he slips up and drops his pick. The loud music of his electric guitar couldn't drown out the high BPM beat of his heart going off in his ears. The mental image of you smiling and waving at him every time he shows up. The tingle in his fingertips imagining himself holding you.

Swallowing hard, he storms out of the studio. He was at his fucking limit and refused to deal with this flip flop of emotions any longer. A cold shower. He calms down. Tomorrow. At the studio when he goes in to record. He'll find you then. He'll go early before the rest of the band gets there. He'll get this done and over with. Enough hours were spent being a mess about you. He was going to get this done! Tossing and turning in bed for hours he finally falls asleep. Tomorrow, he'll confess.

xxxx

The next day came soon enough. Making sure he looked good, makeup on, hair styled nicely, a sexy ass outfit with his deliciously sculpted abs out. Not the usual for when he goes to the studio but if he was going to be confessing? Perfect. Yes he was perfect in his own eyes but still, his heart raced. Small whispers of Rhaast in his mind, telling him they might reject him, that he was someone that needed nobody, he shouldn't go up to them and say anything, the frustration was so good for his music! But still, he walked on. Boots hitting the floor at the same pace of his rapidly beating heart as he walks up to you. You heard him before you saw him, the thump of his boots echoing closer and closer.

" Hey!"

He cringes internally, the hell was that greeting. Hey? Just hey?! He smiles. Cocky as usual. Face never betraying his emotions, yeah he was cool like that. The shaking of his hands held back as he puts them in his pockets. Its alright, he looked cool. Just like that, hands in his pockets fiddling with his phone as he leans against the wall to talk to you.

" Can I talk to you a bit before I go and record stuff?"

Oh gods you smiled and nodded. His heart fluttered. His expression, involuntary, visibly lighting up. The way your smile just made him smile so bright back. He takes a deep breath.

" I uh...I love you."

He spat it out. It wasn't cool. It wasn't sexy. It was a choked out confession. Heart racing, palms now sweaty in his pockets, still shaking. Hells, shaking More now. His breath heavy as he tries to keep the anxiety at bay. A feeling of stage fright he never felt before. Suddenly hitting him. You look at him, face slowly getting more flushed as you process the sudden confession.

" I hate it but I've fallen head over heels for you. I'm a fucking wreck. You ruin me."

Kayn runs his hands through his hair, a habit to calm himself down. His eyes closed as he takes a deep breath before continuing.

" You genuinely make my time here at the studio fun, your presence is chaotic and calming at the same time. I want to be with you. I want us to be a thing. You already know me, you've seen the me on stage during practice, off stage when I record lines, you've seen Rhaast go all out and you still choose to be around me. I want you more than anything I've ever wanted."

He looks at you now, a calm stare. Lips pursed in a tight line. Swallowing hard. His nerves somehow finding solace in letting out all his feelings that were pent up over the month or two since you got to know each other. You laugh, gods your laugh. He's giddy. You tell him you love him too. He smiles.

A pause as he suddenly stands up straight. You tell him you love him too?

" Wait haha what? Really?"

He was amazing of course you'd say yes but still, there was that tiny part of him that was worried. You liked him back? You Love him? The amazing you! The you that shone like a sun in his frustrating days of endless work as a rockstar. You! He was fucking Elated. Arms immediately around you, a tight hug as he lets out a sigh. Breath he didn't even realize he was holding until now. His arms still shaking a little as he held you.

" Can I kiss you. Right now? I-"

Kayn doesn't even finish his sentence, the moment you nod his lips are on yours, passionate. Hands threading through your hair as he holds your head gently. Holding you against him. His free hand around your waist, supporting you as much as he was supporting himself from falling apart at your touch. How he loved you, the smell of your hair so close to him now, the taste of your lips on his, the feeling of your soft delectable lips on his. How warm you were in his hands, how faint your breath on his face. He was in love. He was in Love.

As he pulls apart. He takes another deep breath. The way you left him literally breathless. Fuck. This was an excitement he never felt before. Never has a kiss left him feeling so...good? Never has a hug left him literally shaking with excitement. You were special and now you were his.

" You're so fucking perfect you know that?"

He laughs shakily. A hand rising, trembling as he lightly touches his lips. Still in disbelief. He loves you. Undeniably. Overwhelmingly. The storm of emotions he held for the past, who knows how long, now a summer breeze filling his chest with a warmth he doesn't remember ever feeling. He loves you.

#Also from personal experience as I too jumped off a stage once to an empty audience for a flex.#I sprained my ankle after but it was cool. Kayn would do that I can see it happening.#Anon Answer #My heart was racing as i wrote this #i was shaking too #so i made kayn shake too #heehee #SO MANY EMOTIOSN #I LOVE LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#Kayn x Reader #Heartsteel!Kayn #Shieda Kayn #I really outdid myself writing this #this is my new favorite answer #Kayn LoL #Kayn League #KaynLeague #Kayn League of Legends #SCENARIOS #Shieda Kayn x Reader #im ruined i love this so much and i fucking wrote it lmao #League of Legends Scenarios #league of legends imagines #oh i love him i love him #to hold him close and tell him he is worthy of love that is hard and fast that leaves him breathless and wanting #to give kayn a love like no other that is you reader. thank you for loving him.#Yuno's Favourite Answer #oops proofred to make it gn

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randoimago · 5 months

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starting this new month, and continuing? my other request, I was wondering if you could write about Jealous!Bucci Gang whose S/O is obsessed with a singer, like she talks about them all the time, and has a lot posters of them, how would the guys react to that?

Don't worry, you can post this request at any time, but preferably after you've posted the other request, or if you don't want to write it, feel free to ignore this, no problem!^^

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

Character(s): Abbacchio, Bruno, Giorno, Fugo, Mista, Narancia, Trish

Note(s): Here you go! Not all of them act stereotypical jealous but I hope you still enjoy what I wrote!

I mean, with how Abbacchio is he might either judge your taste in men (cause his is so immaculate 😒) or be extremely self degrading. He's a drunk mafia man, of course you'd be more into some famous singer than him.

Bruno can't help being amused at all the posters and how often you talk about this singer. But he also reminds you that he's your S/O. He is happy to listen to your interests, but he does have a limit.

Fugo glares and threatens to tear the posters down. You really want him to hang out in your room with some stupid guy staring the whole time? His temper will get the better of him so he stays away until you get your fascination out of your system.

Like Bruno, Giorno is also happy to hear about your interests but he can only do it for so long. He will touch one of your posters only to turn it into a bouquet of flowers for you, stating, "I bet he can't do this, love." Doesn't truly care if you're upset, he'll use his mafia money to buy you concert tickets as an apology.

Mista rolls his eyes at all the posters and you talking about the singer. He'd be the one to say, "If you like him so much, why don't you marry him?" as if it's some kind of insult.

Narancia takes you gushing about a singer as permission for him to also talk about some rapper or artist that he's also really into lately. It becomes you both listening to their music together and commenting on the vocals and instrumentals and such.

Trish glances at the posters and immediately pipes up about some other singer being better. She's so nonchalant about it too. Does not care if it starts a whole debate or flame war, she's got her own bias and it ain't yours.

Taglist:

@abellaheart-blog @joestarfoundation

#jjba x reader #abbacchio x reader #leone abbacchio x reader #bruno bucciarat x reader #giorno x reader #giorno giovanna x reader #fugo x reader #pannacotta fugo x reader #mista x reader #guido mista x reader #narancia x reader #narancia ghirga x reader #trish una x reader #trish x reader

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softspace-fics · 26 days

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Hiiiiii I love your blog and all of your writing (especially your little fanific they comfort me a lot)

You can ignore this request, but do you think you can write something for a disabled reader trying to take care of themselves like do every day things (taking a shower or cooking) and the more and more they mess up things the more frustrated they get (and maybe regress) until someone (either stucky or loki if you don't mind) swoops in and takes over to help and let's them know that it's okay to need help

Thank you for listening I hope your having a good day

It's hard.

A/N- Eeee! Hello! I'm so glad you like my blog, my entire goal is to make stories that people can love. I hope I made your request okay! I know i changed it somewhat but I might use this idea a few times. Thank you so much for it, and if anyone else has a request please send them!

Masterlist - All my work!

Warnings ⚠️: Disabled reader, Mentions of ignorant family, reader struggles with their own body, Loki helps reader to shower and get dressed, Loki carries reader, fluff, let me know if I miss any!

CG!Loki Laufeyson x Disabled!Gn little reader!

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You had always struggled with being able to function, or to be able to even properly care for yourself. This included everyday things, things like eating, making your own bed, even walking was hard to do.

Your parents rarely believed you when you would tell them something was wrong, even after numerous hospital visits, the different doctors telling your parents you were just dramatic, didn’t help. You were in constant pain but throughout your life, you learned to bear it. To never complain about it. To shut up.

However when you started to regress from it, from the pain, from being beaten down for your pain, it all started to feel better and hurt all at once. You were in a state of a child, in the pain of a dult, and by yourself. This was hard to handle all at once, it meant alot of nights were spent in bed wondering why you.

When you met Loki, you were cautious, you didn’t know how he would react. Would he tell you that you were faking just like the others? Would he believe you? Did you believe yourself?

Loki eventually found out a few months into you both being together, he picked up on your little clues, how you avoided lifting heavy things, or how you sometimes would stomp your feet a little more after a long day. When you would curl into his side on days the pain was just unbearable. He helped you go see doctors and get meds that were supposed to help, but they only lessened the pain enough to manage.

Today loki had gone out to go get you guys breakfast and you decided to shower, or attleast attempt to. You had clambered out of bed pretty easily, your body seeming to play nice today. You gathered the items you need to make yourself comfortable after and during the shower, before you headed into the bathroom.

You and Loki had decided to let today be a little day, so you had your favorite pjs on for after the shower, and you were ecstatic to be able to spend the day with loki. You slowly and carefully got undressed and climbed into the shower, some of your favorite music playing in the background.

You were successfully getting through the shower before everything started to hurt. The hot water began to burn, and your vision started to get blurry. It was like your joints were starting to play a painful prank on you. You tried to carefully sit down, but slipped and fell slightly onto the shower floor.

You began to cry when you heard the bathroom door open, and Lokis soothing voice coming through.

“Darling? You okay?”

“D-Dada!” You stutter out scared.

Loki immediately swoops into the shower gently helping you sit up properly before he turns off the shower and switches it to where he can fill the bath up. He pulls his sleeves up before gently pushing the hair out of your face and checking you for bruises.

“Baby what happened? Are you okay?”

“I-I slipped” You mutter out softly.

Loki gently kisses your head before getting a washcloth to help finish cleaning you up. He carefully and gently helps get you cleaned up before starting to help you wash your hair. He leaves gentle little kisses throughout your hair, making sure that your comfortable and that you feel safe.

“Baby you know i’d help you in anyway when you dont feel good right? I know its hard to ask for help but you my darling deserve the care and love. Don’t be afraid to wait for me or to ask me for help, thats why im here right?” He softly cups your cheek, making sure you see the sincerity in his eyes.

You only are able to nod as a response, your eyes filling with tears as you’d never felt more loved.

Loki gently helps you out of the tub, helping you to dry off and to get dressed, kissing your nose when your in your comfortable pjs of choice. He scoops you up into his arms, kissing your cheeks and carrying you to the living room where he has pillows and blankets ready for you and your favorite movie ready to hit play.

He sits down with you on his lap as he covers you in blankets and kisses your head. You buries your face into his neck, peaking out just enough to be able to see.

“Dada than’ you. Its hards to asks for help sometimes.”

“Its okay for it to be hard, dada will continue to love you either way.”

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