#pls oliver's face!!!

[buffysummers]

Arrow | 2.08 - "The Scientist"

[felixscatton]

Saltburn (2023) | dir. Emerald Fennell

[buddiesmutslut]

I’m being so ffr rn, if the show runners definitively show that Buddie is not going to happen?

I’m probably not going to be watching anymore.

I mean it when I say that they’re literally the sole reason I watched this show in the first place. I saw a billion TikTok edits of them & was like “Idek these characters I need to watch this show and see what’s going on over there.”

And like, it’s a fun show, I’m not saying it isn’t, but first responder shows are a dime a dozen. There are other shows that have queer characters and found family and wild adventures. Granted, they don’t have Buck & his bi arc, but I’d still read fanfics to get my Evan Buckley fix lol.

I don’t need them right now, I’m so down for the slow burn, will-they-won’t-they & the pining & the yearning & the build up and the GOOD foundation. I want to see Eddie figuring himself out and dealing with his repression and figuring out he’s queer (& Demi, pls God. I hope if I just say it enough, I can will it into existence somehow) before anything happens with the two of them, but if they take definitive steps to have one of them like, marry someone else or something, I think I’m gonna head out. Find me on ao3 for the rest of my days lol.

[morninkim]

“How are you doing?”

“I’m hangin’...”

Tomberly kiss scene from Season 1 but now they’re 45 and recovering from being action figures on Aquitar

[towl]

SHIDŌ RYŪSEI Blue Lock ⚽︎ EP24:"The Time Has Come"

[sothassil]

happy trans day of visibility everyone❤️! here's my silly face contributing for the day

for my trans siblings:

we are valid. we are loved. we are strong. and we are here to stay 🏳️‍⚧️

[tired-reader-writer]

Is it just me or is the Ascendance of a Bookworm fandom on Discord kinda rotten

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

felix and his gf being at saltburn and felix noticed ollie acting weird towards her and gets upset at him!!!!!!

The eyes, Chico. || Felix Catton x reader

A/n: YAY TY FOR THE REQUEST! PLS SEND THRU MORE

Warnings: fem!reader, Oliver being a creep, swearing, smoking, if there’s anything else lmk!

Wc: 826

Felix Catton Masterlist

Feeling Felix’s thumb rub circles on your back, you flutter your eyes open and are met with his smile. "Mornin', baby," he greets you, and you respond with a lazy smile, relishing the comforting embrace of his body. His chuckle resonates through his chest, a gentle vibration against you. "It's too early, Felix," you murmur softly, wanting to fall back into slumber.

"Breakfast starts soon, aren't you hungry?" Felix questions, a playful tone lacing his words. You shake your head. "Yes, you are. Don't lie. I can hear your stomach," he asserts with a laugh, and you can't help but crack a smile in response. "Fine," you concede.

You and Felix make your way to the kitchen, where the aroma of breakfast awaits. You greet everyone good morning, almost forgetting that Oliver is here at Saltburn too.

You don’t understand why Felix invited him over; they barely know each other. Even when you confront your boyfriend about it, he just says that he feels bad for him, that he's going through some things at home.

Honestly, he's sort of a strange guy. You always catch him looking away from you when you look at him, around school, his eyes widen the slightest when he sees you walking down the corridors, and then he focuses his gaze on the ground. One time, he even bumped into a pole because he wasn't looking where he was going.

But today, he seems even more odd. The unease is palpable as you sit down at the table. The morning sun streams through the windows, casting a warm glow on the scene.

As you and Felix engage in light morning banter, you catch Oliver staring at you. His gaze is intense, lingering longer than is comfortable. At first, you dismiss it, thinking maybe he's just lost in thought. However, the oddity of his behavior becomes more apparent as the meal progresses.

Oliver’s eyes follow your every move, and you feel an unsettling awareness of his gaze on you. It’s as if his attention is fixated solely on you. You exchange a glance with Felix, who seems oblivious to Oliver’s strange behavior at first.

You try to focus on your plate, on the conversation with Felix, but the weight of Oliver’s gaze is distracting. It’s not the kind of attention you want or need, especially coming from a guy who's already odd enough.

You try to enjoy breakfast, but the uneasy feeling persists. Oliver’s eyes seem to follow you, and you sense a strange tension in the air. However, as the minutes pass, even Felix begins to sense the unease in the air.

“You alright, Ollie?” Felix's timely interjection is a relief. Oliver shifts his focus from you to Felix and responds with a casual, "Hm? Oh, yeah. I'm good." A smile graces his face as he savors a spoonful of breakfast as your eyes flicker between the two, watching the interaction. You can't help but wonder if Venetia or Farleigh picked up on the awkward tension in the air.

As breakfast concludes, you can’t shake off the lingering discomfort. “Remind me why you brought Oliver to Saltburn again?” You question your boyfriend beside you as you continue your skincare routine.

Felix, sensing the need for discretion, swiftly moves to the door leading to Oliver's room. "Shh, don't be so loud," he cautions in a hushed tone, closing the door behind him with a sense of urgency.

"Darling, I know he's been acting weird—" Felix begins, coming up behind you, but you swiftly cut him off. "Oh, he's been acting more than weird. I could barely focus at breakfast with his eyes on me," you huff, applying sunscreen to your face, preparing for a day out in the sun by the lake. The tension in the air is palpable as you address the unease surrounding Oliver's peculiar behavior.

"I know, I know. He just has a... tendency to stare. He's probably admiring how gorgeous you are. Aren't you used to the stares?" He bends down to kiss your cheek, and you roll your eyes in response.

"He should know it's rude to stare," you say in a sing-song voice as you pack up your skincare products. "Don't mind him," Felix adds, his large hands wrapping around your bare stomach, giving your hips a slight squeeze.

The hot temperature outside and the high UV ray lead you, Venetia, Farleigh, Felix, and Oliver outside to lounge by the lake. As you settle on the blanket, the odd tension with Oliver becomes more pronounced. He positions himself nearby, and you catch him stealing glances at you.

It’s not the casual glances friends share; they're lingering, intense stares that make you uneasy. You exchange puzzled glances with Venetia, both of you trying to make sense of Oliver’s peculiar behavior.

“That Oliver has a staring problem, doesn’t he?” Venetia comments, readjusting her sunglasses that sit on her nose. “You saw the stares this morning right?” You turn your head towards her as she does the same. “I think everyone could sense the awkwardness between you two.”

You sigh, closing your eyes and turning your head back. “He’s so strange. I still can’t wrap my head around why Felix invited him here.” You try to focus on the conversation with Venetia, hoping to ignore Oliver’s odd glances. However, his behavior persists.

As you and Venetia engage in conversation by the lounge chairs, Oliver’s attention seems solely fixed on you. It’s as if he’s not present in the moment, lost in his own thoughts. The picturesque surroundings lose their charm as the atmosphere becomes charged with an unspoken tension.

“Is he looking,” You say lowly to Venetia, who discreetly looks behind you before humming. “Fucks sake,” You groan, turning your head only to find his eyes looking at his hands. Rolling your eyes, you gravitate your gaze to Felix right beside you.

Felix, sensing the unease, stands up to move his chair closer to yours, a protective gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed, especially when he places his large hand on your thigh. You appreciate his presence, but the situation with Oliver casts a shadow over what should have been a carefree day by the lake.

The discomfort peaks when you decide to take a break and lie down on the blanket, soaking up the sun’s warmth. Venetia joins you, and you both close your eyes, attempting to find solace in the peaceful surroundings.

However, Oliver’s peculiar behavior doesn’t wane. As you lie there, eyes closed, you sense his eyes on you, a prickling awareness that mars the tranquility of the moment. You open your eyes to find Oliver glancing at you again, a furtive gaze that makes you uneasy.

Venetia, too, notices the strange dynamic and shoots you a concerned look. You spot Farleigh and Felix in deep conversation, Farleigh glancing at Oliver from time to time before giving you a look, silently communicating the shared discomfort.

“Fuck this, I’m going to take a bath,” You mutter annoyed as everyone watches you get up from your towel. Perching your sunglasses on your head, you walk over to Felix. “I’m going to take a bath,” You lean down to kiss him as he hums.

“I’ll come join you in a sec,” He says, his hands toying with the strings on your bikini bottoms. With a brief exchange of nods, you make your way back to Saltburn and to Felix’s bathroom, which connected to Oliver’s room.

The cold water is already calling your name, promising respite from the tension that clings to the air. Closing the door behind you, you take a deep breath, hoping the solitude of the bath will provide the sanctuary you need.

Little do you know that the shadows of unease follow you into the bathroom. As you start to run the water, the events of the morning replay in your mind. The odd glances, the tension at breakfast—all of it weaves into a disconcerting tapestry.

Stripping off your bikini-clad body, you let out a moan of relief when your warm body makes contact with the cold water. Lighting up a cigarette, another sigh of relief escapes you.

Unbeknownst to you, Felix decides to retrieve something from Oliver’s room. As he opens the door, the scene before him freezes him in his tracks. Oliver, standing too close, is peering through the crack of the bathroom door, watching you in the bath.

Felix’s initial surprise gives way to a flash of anger. “What the fuck, Ollie?” he exclaims, his voice cutting through the silence. Your heart skips a beat as you hear the commotion outside. You hear Felix yelling as you quickly get out the tub, wrapping a robe around your naked body before emerging from the bathroom.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He screams as Oliver stammers, caught red-handed, unable to form a coherent response. You move beside Felix, rubbing your hand up and down his arm, trying to ease him down.

“You can’t just invade someone’s privacy like that,” Felix continues, his tone sharp. “What were you thinking, watching through the door like some creep?” His eyes were blown out, his face red as Oliver just stood there distressed.

“That’s so fucked up, Oliver.” You say quietly, though your tone and glare were ice cold. Oliver, looking sheepish and guilty, attempts to explain himself. “I-I didn’t mean to- I’m sorry.”

Felix’s frustration deepens, and he points out, “Sorry is going to cut it, mate. What’s been going on with you? The staring, the weird glances—it’s not normal, man. We’re supposed to be friends. She’s my girlfriend, and you’ve been creeping her the fuck out!”

The room is charged with tension as the two friends face off. Felix, normally calm and collected, is visibly shaken by the breach of trust. You stand there, wrapped in a towel, feeling a mixture of concern and disgust for Oliver and an urge to comfort Felix.

Oliver, fumbling for words, finally admits, “Y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I messed up, and I completely understand if you’re mad.” Felix lets out a dark laugh, throwing his head back as Oliver gulps.

“Mate, we’re more than just mad. What you did is so fucking wrong,” Felix spat as Oliver says nothing but nods his head lightly. "I think it’s best if you leave, Ollie," you tighten the robe around your body as Felix lets out a deep sigh, running his hands through his hair as Ollie nods, his gaze on the ground.

“Of course. I’m sorry again,” he apologizes as you give him one final look, grabbing Felix’s arm and pulling him with you back into the bathroom. Felix looks over his shoulder at Oliver, slamming the door shut and locking it.

[leclerc-hs]

it's cool, we're just friends? - cl16

pairing: college!charles leclerc x fem!reader (friends with benefits!) summary: in which you and a guy in your class are friends with benefits OR you and your friends with benefits might be more? warnings: smut under the cut! thigh-riding, throat-fucking, p in v sex!, no condoms (bad!), badly translated french (pls correct me), angst, pining, NOT PROOFREAD!!!! word count: 4.8k! author's note: so i ALMOST scrapped this entire thing because i wasn't sure how i felt about it so if it sucks, i understand LOL. i had a lot of fun writing this and can see myself writing a lot of scenarios for them like before there was this many feelings involved? like maybe a spring break one shot for them, when they hooked up for first time ;) PLEASE let me hear your thoughts and any comments you have. I love hearing from you guys xoxo

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THE WEIGHT OF his eyes bore into the back of your skull, a palpable presence as you immerse yourself in the lecture before you. It’s almost become a ritual at this point: a magnetic pull compels you to glance his way, and there he is, a smirk stretching wide across his face, as if he holds the upper hand.

In that fleeting moment where your eyes meet his verdant gaze, a fierce intensity ignites within you. It’s as if a wildfire unleashes, consuming you with an unbridled mix of desire and exasperation. Your stomach tightens with a fervent ache, betraying the absolute irritation you feel at his ability to rile you up with one look.

Internally, Charles wrestles with the urge to gaze at you as though you’ve strung the stars and moon just for him. Yet, outwardly, he remains steadfast, unwilling to reveal his vulnerability when it comes to you. Instead, he masks his emotions behind a practiced smirk—a façade. And the blushing reaction you give him almost every time, only enthuses him more.

“Arrête!” You half-shout, though it emerges more as a whispered urgency amidst the large lecture hall.

Charles leans in over his desk, his lips hovering dangerously close to the shell of your ear, a proximity that sets your heart racing with a rapid intensity.

“Est-ce que je te verra ice soir?” Will I see you tonight?

You kept your head straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge the warmth of him being so close, resisting the allure of his voice. 

“Peut-être.” Maybe.

At the front of the lecture hall, Professor Bernard stands tall, his expression grave as he prepares his common ‘you guys are smarter than this’ speech about the recent exam grades. He highlights the alarming fact that more than half of the class received a 70% or lower. And true to his reputation as the kindest professor, he extends an olive branch by offering retakes to those who seek improvement before dismissing the lecture.

You gather your belongings, ready to make your exit, when suddenly, a heavy arm wraps around your shoulder just as you cross the threshold of the door.

You? Aced it. Charles? Not so aced it.

Which you knew meant you were helping him study as usual.

-

You watch as Charles runs his fingers through his disheveled locks, each movement betraying a hint of frustration and determination. His lips form a subtle pout as he fixates on the study material you laid out before him, his furrowed brows highlighting the depth of his concentration.

“Mon chou, je ne pensais pas que tu m’avais invite pour ça.” I didn’t think you invited me over for this.

With a gleam in his eyes, he wiggles his eyebrows playfully as he collapses on the many pillows of your bed behind him. The papers scattered across the bed threaten to take flight, but your swift reflexes saved them from soaring away into chaos.

You narrow your eyes in mock annoyance, but the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips betrays your amusement at the situation.

“Tu dois étudier.” You need to study.

Charles stares at the corners of your lips, his eyes not straying once from them even as you spoke. 

“Embrasse-moi d’abord.” Kiss me first. He nearly begs; his face almost completely covered by the hood of his sweatshirt as he laid on his back beside your cross-legged figure.

“Étudie.” Study. Your words were firm, yet you could feel your resolve slipping under the intensity of his gaze, as it traces a path from your lips to your eyes, igniting a warmth that stirred whenever he was near.

His arm reaches up behind your neck in a swift motion, too quick for you to even see it coming. His fingers grabbing the nape of your neck in a tight grip as he brings your face down to his, your body toppling over his in an unnatural position from his force. His lips collide with yours instantly, and the squeal you elicit gives him easy access to slip his tongue into your mouth. 

He groans softly against your mouth, something about how sweet your mouth tastes. The moan that escapes your lips and melded into his mouth drove him absolutely crazy. The grip on the back of your neck didn’t loosen as he held you to him, giving you no opportunity to pull away from him.

Your tank top cladded chest was pressed against the side of his body, embracing you in his warmth. You press a hand to his chest, attempting to push yourself up, but he groans against your lips in detest before loosening his grip on your neck. 

“Est-ce vraiment necessaire.” Do we have to? He begins to pepper kisses all around your face, his fingers dipping under the straps of your tank top, tracing intricate patterns of the soft skin beneath.

You slip your hand under the warmth of his hoodie, his toned muscles flexing under your cold fingertips as you trail your hand up his chest and slip one leg over him, straddling his thigh. His skin was so warm. Almost like a furnace.

He sucks in a breath, as if your touch hurt him, but really, he craved it. He wanted you everywhere. The tight leggings that adorned your body did little to prevent Charles from feeling the heat and arousal of your pussy against his thigh. A smirk widened on his lips almost instantly. He knew he had you right where he wanted you.

He could sense your contemplative thoughts by one glance at your eyes. As if you knew he needed to study, but you needed this more.

 You could barely concentrate the minute Charles sprawled onto your bed earlier, his legs spread and shorts riding up to expose the muscles of his thighs. It was even harder to think with the way his soft green eyes look up at you, and the way his fingers felt on you.

His hand trails from beneath the strap of your tank top, your hardened nipples more than visible through the thin fabric of it, to the front of your breasts.

“No bra?” His thumb rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger above the fabric of your shirt. “Planning on getting fucked, hm?” 

Your hips rut against his thigh almost instantly in response to his words. The feeling of his thigh against your clit, causing a soft moan to slip. It was then, that Charles seemed to lose all restraint as his hand grasped the side of your neck and squeezed lightly, his thumb resting in the center of your neck. He flexed his thigh, his eyes gleaming at the sight of your blown out pupils.

“Regarde-toi,” Look at you. He edged you on. “Just wanna ride m’thigh, yeah?” 

Your hips move in their own rhythm, unable to stop. It just feels too good. You nodded repeatedly as you lean over, pressing your chest to his, as he claims your lips once again. His hot, tongue sliding against yours as the stubble of his facial hair scratches your chin.

You struggle, losing the rhythm of your hips until Charles slid his hands down to your waist, guiding your movements. “C’mon mon chou, tu dois travailler pour ça.” You have to work for it.

“We should study.” You mention, the pace of your hips not stopping. As if your body has a mind of its own.

“Nous sommes.” We are. He argues, his fingertips squeezing into the skin of your hips even more. “Now, keep rubbing that pretty little pussy on me.”

-

“Oh, what about her?” You point to the pretty brunette that was currently leaned against the wall, a red solo cup in her manicured hand, as she was deep in conversation with a few other girls that you haven’t seen before.

Charles sighs heavily, rolling his eyes just slightly. “Why are you pawning me off?” He cracks a smile, his elbows gently hitting your side.

You let out a small laugh before bringing your own cup to your lips. The liquid of your drink resting on the top of your lip as you finished a sip and turned to look at Charles. “M’not!” You shrug your shoulders. “Elle est jolie and keeps looking at you thinkin’ no one’s noticed.” She’s pretty.

He wouldn’t know about the ‘pretty brunette’ you claimed was there. He didn’t know about any other girl that was here. His eyes haven’t left your figure the entire night. Since you stepped in the entrance of the house he was by your side, it was like his body knew you arrived.

“Peu importe ça, m’gonna go dance.” Whatever. You stick your tongue out at him, earning a deep laugh, and saunter off to find one of your friends already on the makeshift dance floor in the living room of the house. 

Charles leans casually against the wall, his eyes tracing the contours of your radiant smile from afar. Despite himself, a soft grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he takes in the sight of you.

“Are you sure you’re not together?” One of his friends, Alex, teases, leaning in close to Charles and handing him a red solo cup, its contents mostly frothy beer foam from an evidently lazy pour. “I was thinking of asking her out.”

Charles’s gaze drift from the frothy mess in his cup to Alex’s expectant face, a furrow forming on his brow. It wasn’t the foam that troubled him, rather, it was Alex’s words that unsettled him. How was he supposed to respond? We aren’t together but I think I’m in love with her?

Charles clenches his jaw, fighting back the urge to speak his truth, as the words “have at it” slip past his lips with a forced nonchalance. With a hollow smile, he raises the cup to his lips, swallowing the acrid liquid with a newfound eagerness that masked the bitter taste of envy and longing festering in his chest. As Alex made his way towards you, Charles couldn’t help but feel a pang of anguish, knowing that he was relinquishing his chance to confess his feelings, drowning them instead in the depths of a cheap beer.

-

“Mmm, tu es tellement douée.” You’re so good.

You weren’t quite sure how you ended up in this scenario. All you remember is being dragged away from a game of beer-pong with Alex, his fingers gripping your wrist so tightly it could’ve left marks, and shoving you onto your knees as soon as he shut the bathroom door. 

Dwelling on the how’s and why’s seemed inconsequential now. Especially with his cock buried deep down your throat like it is right now, and especially with the praises that slip past his lips.

Charles lulls his head back with a loud groan as he flexes his hips into your mouth, giving you little to no opportunity to breathe. No opportunity to speak. But you didn’t care. You would do anything to please him.

“Tellement putain de jolie, mon dieu.” So fucking pretty, my God.

“Bet you’re soaked under that dress, hm?” His grip on your hair tightens. “Got you all wet without even touching you.” His laugh is deep and mocking. You feel your thighs clench, like it was an automatic response. “Only I get you like this, yeah?”

You press your face forward, not even needing his force as you take full enjoyment in the feeling of him in your mouth.

“So eager, mon chou.”

You moan at the feeling of his smooth cock against the walls of your throat. The vibrations of your moan, immediately sending him over the edge. His white, hot cum spills down your throat, filling you up, before he pulls out. A long string of saliva follows, your eyes completely teary. 

He lifts you from your knees, the cool tile of the bathroom floor no longer your support, his thumb gently resting on your chin as he studies you for a mere second. Taking in the streaky tears under your eyes and your swollen lips. He could already feel the blood rushing back to his cock.

“Bet you’re leaking all over yourself, yeah?” You catch the smirk that pulls onto his lips before his lips crash down onto yours. His teeth nibbling on your bottom lip for a brief second before he’s pulling away, pushing you up onto the bathroom sink counter as he stands in between your spread legs. “All achy?” He cocked his head to the side a little, like he knew something you didn’t.

It was so fast, you weren’t even able to ask questions before he leaned forward, his fingers slipping into the lace of your underwear, pushing them aside, and pressing his hot tongue to your soaked core.

You swore you’ve never moaned so loud in your life as you just did in this moment.  At the feeling of the kitten licks on your clit, at the feeling of him shoving two fingers into you, finding that spot he knew you loved most almost instantly.

Your fingers franticly reached into his tousled locks, pulling his hair probably harder than necessary, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he moaned right into your pussy. Like he couldn’t ever get enough of you. Like he would stay licking you for forever if he could.

“Mon dieu,” My god. You squeal as your head lulls back against the cool mirror behind you and bite your lip trying to conceal the moans.

You look down at Charles, his eyes already staring at you, his green eyes completely darkened now. It makes your stomach do a multitude of flips. Your attempt to squeeze your legs shut from the pressure building in your stomach, but Charles grips his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh, holding them open.

A series of knocks are heard on the bathroom door which sends you into a total panic to which Charles yells “Va te faire foutre!” Fuck off!

 Your body squirms against Charles’ mouth and the granite of the countertop, but he holds you in place as if to say you’re not going anywhere until you soak my mouth.

He ate you out like a possessed man. Your chest is flushed red as the speed of his tongue picks up, sending you into overdrive. It wasn’t until he sucks harshly on your clit, the pressure of it, has you leaping over the edge into your orgasm. You came hard enough that your body arched, your fingers clenching his hair, pulling hard.

Charles doesn’t come up right away, he licks and licks until you’re pushing him off you. Both of your chests rose and fell in rhythm with each heavy breath, the lingering echoes of the lively party beyond the door gradually seeping back into your consciousness. It felt as though you had just descended from a faraway realm, returning to the bustling reality surrounding you.

His lips glistened, coated in you, as he stares at you completely fucked out on the bathroom counter. An unmistakable smugness in his expression.

His heart clenches as he drinks in the sight of you, so many emotions swirling in his chest. As you stretch your lips into that smile he loves so much, he feels a swell of warmth flood his senses, a tender ache stirring in the depths of his soul.

“Qu’est-ce qui te prend?” What’s gotten into you?

Not that you were complaining at what just happened. If anything, you wouldn’t mind if he wanted a repeat right now.

He nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, one hand leisurely slipping into his pocket, while the other moved to grasp the door handle. With a patient stance, he awaited your readiness before even considering opening the door. “J’avais juste besoin de toi,” Just needed you. He whispers, his voice carrying a tender resonance, emphasizing the depth of longing.

And then he’s swinging the door open, guiding you both back to the party.

-

“Je pense que nous devrions arrêter.” I think we should stop.

The words felt heavy in your throat as you said them, your hand clasped in Charles’ hand as you sat across from one another in the campus coffee shop.

Charles chuckled softly, taking a leisurely sip of his drink, but when be caught the seriousness in your expression, his laughter faded. His eyebrows knitted together, a pang of pain igniting in his chest and spreading like wildfire.

You watched as he leaned his head back against the booth, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if unable to meet your eyes.

“Que veux-tu dire?” What do you mean? He met your eyes again, and you noticed a subtle shift in their hue—they were slightly darker than their usual shade of green.

“Je ne pense pas que ç ava marcher.” I don’t think this is going to work out. As you uttered the words, a queasy sensation churned in your stomach, making you feel like you were going to be sick. Similarly, Charles felt a wave of nausea wash over him upon hearing your words, his own stomach in knots.

Just looking at him had your eyes burning, but you refused to let the tears fall. Despite the overwhelming love you felt for this man, you couldn’t ignore the reality that it was unlikely to progress beyond the messy situation you found yourselves in. What were you supposed to do? Be friends that fuck for the rest of your lives?

You couldn’t do that. You wouldn’t do that. It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. No, you’ve been thinking about this for so long, but cutting it off was just too hard. Cutting him off was too hard.

As you watched him slowly retract his fingers from yours, his hand moving to pinch the bridge of his nose while he blinked, a fiery ache within your chest grew.

“We’re friends, always, right?” You asked, offering him a soft smile, though inside, your heart felt like it was about to burst from your chest. You reminded yourself that this was necessary. You needed to go on dates. Not that he was exactly holding you back. It just felt wrong to go on dates while sleeping with another.

“Right,” he responded, his expression devoid of a smile. “Friends.” He nodded slowly, as if carefully considering the weight of the situation before him.

“Est-ce que je peux demander ce qui a déclencé cela?” Can I ask what brought this up? His fingers tapped restlessly along the edge of the table, betraying his impatience as he awaited your answer.

Meanwhile, you sat twiddling your thumbs in your lap, occasionally stealing glances at them. Why did this conversation feel so unbearably difficult?

“Quoi?” What?

“Est-ce que j’ai fait quelque chose?” Did I do something?

You shook your head instantly, a small blush forming on your cheeks. “I just,” You began, but felt flustered as you took a pause to look back down at your fingers and then him again. His eyes made you feel hot all over, the way they never strayed from your face whenever you spoke to him, the way they dropped to your lips every so often as if he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you. He couldn’t.

“I just think I need to go on dates.” You nervously smiled.

“You think?” He scoffed, throwing one arm over the top of the booth, and resting it there as he fell into a relaxed position. His eye twitched slightly, as he flexed his hand and clenched it like he was holding himself back.

You’re not sure how to respond. You had anticipated this conversation to be brief, perhaps along the lines of “I think we should end this,” followed by his immediate agreement. But apparently, that wasn’t the case. You could feel yourself growing flustered the longer you sat here. Why couldn’t he just simply agree, no questions asked.

You nodded, with slight hesitance. Did you really want to end it with him? No.

He shrugged his shoulders, pulling a little smirk on his face as he usually did. “Très bien.” Fine.

And that was that.

-

Charles decided that he had it up to here when you strolled into the house party, lips shiny with gloss, and you hand held in none other than Alex’s. It was as if you were trying to torture him. Like you knew that he loved you and you just wanted to hurt him a little more.

He’s watching, you can feel his eyes burn into you as you turn your head, pretending to listen to Alex as he rambles on about some story. You don’t let yourself glance over to Charles until later in the night, when he’s leaned up against the kitchen counter, a half-empty beer bottle gripped in his hand, eyes already on you.

You felt your stomach do a multitude of flips from the eye-contact, that you even almost pulled your hand from Alex’s. Like you were caught doing something wrong.

You quickly realized that you had little to no self-control, especially when it came to Charles. With his hair pushed back and the linen shirt half-unbuttoned, allowing the toned and taut muscles of his stomach to peek through, it almost seemed as though he wanted to make it even harder for you to resist. Like he wanted to punish you for not choosing him.

He had you right where he wanted you, sort of.

“Shh,” Charles nips at your earlobe, eliciting a mewl from you as he presses you against the mattress of his bed. “You want everyone to hear what a whore you are, hm?”

Another string of moans leaves your lips as he thrusts into you, the pads of his fingers gripping the front of your neck tightly. His eyes fixed on yours, the pace of his hips was slow, but so deep. 

“Tell me,” Charles began, his tongue trailing along your collarbones and up your neck until his mouth hovered over yours. “Still wanna play stupid games with me, jolie fille?” Pretty girl.

You whined as his hips picked up in pace. “Ouvrir.” Open. You did so without a second thought, only to be met with a string of saliva meeting your tongue. Charles groaned as you swallowed his spit, eagerly.

“Still wanna pretend we’re just friends?” He could feel your walls trembling as her hand snaked its way to the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to meet hers. It was a tangle of tongues and moans.

“Does he fuck you as good as me?” You couldn’t handle the way he was talking to you, staring at you, touching you. “Gripping me like you’re gonna come.”

You shook your head repeatedly. 

“That’s it,” His voice was gentle in your ear. “So good, mon chou.” 

Your breaths were jagged and heavy as he took you harder and harder. “Rub your pretty little clit for me, yeah?” 

Your body was shaking as you trailed your fingers down, fingers playing with your clit. Charles rested on his knees, his eyes staring at his cock being swallowed by your pussy, and the way your fingers toyed with your sensitive clit. He groaned at the sight of his cock coated in you. 

It wasn’t long before you careening forward with a cry, your body arching off the bed, as you came around his cock. Charles fell forward over you, an arm on each side of your head, as he cocooned you. His hips didn’t let up as you sobbed out, your toes curling.

Charles could feel his resolve slipping at the feeling of your soaked walls clenching him. He threw his head into the crevice of your neck, the rhythm of his hips faltering as you wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him to thrust even deeper than before. He rolled his hips, pumping into you with such a fervent rush. 

“Mon dieu,” His groans were soft in your ear. “You feel so good.”

It wasn’t until you moaned in his ear, begging for him to come in you, that he lost all control. A deep moan, pressing his hips down against yours as he held you down, pumping his cum deep into you.

For a few moments, it was silent. Just the sound of your heavy breaths as Charles collapsed to the side of you. You both felt oddly at peace, even with the thumping of the house party music heard from the other side of his bedroom door.

Charles stood up, grabbing a towel from his bathroom, before bringing it to you to help clean you up. Something primal filled his chest as he stared at you sprawled on his bed, his cum dripping out of you. 

It was the last swipe of the towel when he finally spoke.

“We’re not friends.” He stated. He was sick of teetering around the topic. He was sick of seeing you with other guys at his house.

You opened your mouth to retort, but he held his hand up, essentially silencing you. 

“Stop pretending you want any other guy’s cock.” He stood before you as you sat up on the edge of the bed still naked, hands clenched at his sides in a fist. You began to stand up, your face turning red with anger, not because of his words but because he was right.

You grabbed your dress that was in a pile on the floor, slipping it on in a hurry. “Je dois partir.” I need to go. You began, “Alex me cherche probablement.” Alex is probably looking for me.

It was then that Charles raised his voice, if it weren’t for the loud music, you could’ve sworn the entire house would’ve heard.

“J’en ai tellement marre de ça!” I’m so sick of this! He runs his fingers through his hair, pacing the room back and forth. You felt your words caught in your throat as you stood still, your eyes following his every movement until he stood before you, his hands gripping your waist.. “Je t’aime!” I love you! He laughs after he says it, like he’s so pathetically in love with you and you have no care in the world for it.

“I cannot handle seeing you with another man.” He rambles off. “I cannot handle seeing you showing up here, to my home, holding another man’s hand.” He seethes, bringing his thumb and pointer finger to pinch the bridge of his nose as he breathes in, attempting to calm himself down.

“I know you love me.” His fingers grab your hand, pulling it up to his chest and holding it where his heart beats. Tears welled up in your eyes as you gazed at him, his eyes reflecting a wild intensity, his hair disheveled hair adding to his untamed allure. Sensing your vulnerability, he gently cupped your face with his other hand, offering you a tender touch. You leaned into his comforting embrace, as if seeking solace in his presence. With a silent nod, you pressed your head against his hand, a single tear escaping down your cheek, bearing witness to the depth of your emotions.

“I’m so sick of seeing people with what is mine.” He urged. “You can’t be someone else’s, not when you are already mine.”

“Charlie,” You drew in a deep breath, locking eyes with him, drowning in the depths of his green gaze. Every fiber of your being resonated with love for this man, an unshakeable devotion that consumed your soul.

“S’il te plait.” Please. His voice was a whispered hush as he begged. “Put me out of my misery.” 

He opened his mouth to continue, but you didn’t let him. You stood on the tips of your toes, leaning forward to press your chest against his as you pressed your lips to him. His arms immediately wrapping around your waist as you slipped your tongue into his mouth. He groaned at the taste of you in his mouth again, his cock already hardening for you.

You pulled off him, “Really?” He let a small laugh escape his lips as he pulled your mouth back onto his for a small peck.

“I’m a man in love.” He grins, like he has nothing to be ashamed about.

“Je t’aime.” I love you.

Charles tenderly pressed his lips to the side of your neck, his tongue tracing delicate patterns along the velvety skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Répète-le.” Say it again. He whispers, his voice husky with desire. As his lips continue down their intoxicating dance on your neck, his fingers trail the straps of your dress, gradually easing them down your shoulders with a tantalizing touch.

“Je t’aime.” I love you. He placed a small nip to your neck, eliciting a small squeal, as he lifted you up and carried you back to his bed.

“M’so in love with you,” He presses a kiss to your lips. “Don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

[halflingkima]

it’s official. i have a couple crush on jacob julia dr*wfee.

[aneluvs]

magnetic mishap | bucky barnes

summary: you bought magnets for Bucky's arm, forgetting that vibranium is not magnetic

warnings: fluff, no use of y/n, gn!reader, drunk!reader, alcohol consumption, tears, bucky in love™ (if i missed any pls lmk!)

word count: 0.8k

A/N: i saw this post by @redwolf1123 and i couldn't help myself! this is my first ever bucky fic! i hope i did him justice :) English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammar/ spelling mistakes. feedback is appreciated!

The living room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the floor lamp casting a warm ambiance. Bucky Barnes sat on the olive-colored couch, resting his head on the taupe throw pillows you'd fawned over at the flea market, obsessing over the embroidered leaves on the pillows, exclaiming how well they'd match with the couch you'd bought when you first moved in the apartment. That was a memory he was fond of. It was after your first year together- when you moved in together, deciding to look for apartments in Brooklyn.

His legs were propped up comfortably on the other end of the couch. A copy of The Hobbit you gifted him sat in his hands, his eyes flitting over each word, totally engrossed in the worn-out book with deckle edges and a spine that can barely hold up itself he'd read many times.

He looked up from his reading as muffled giggles and the clinking of keys sounded from outside, along with a few curse words as you tried to fit the keys into the lock. After a minute or so, the front door creaked open, and in you came, a stumbling, drunken mess. Bucky's heart skipped a beat at the sight of you, his heart constricting at the bright look on your face as your eyes zeroed in on him.

"Hi, baby!" You called out, your voice slightly slurred with the telltale signs of a fun night out with your friends.

Bucky closed his book, placed it on the coffee table, and waited for you to reach the couch, a smile spreading across his face. He loved these moments- when you returned home all giddy and carefree. You were a ray of sunshine, lighting up his dark, lonely world.

"Hey, doll," Bucky replied, his voice filled with affection, and adoration, as he watched you walk towards him. His eyes were twinkling with love as you finally reached him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, guiding you into his lap, and you immediately snuggled up, like it was second nature for you- which it was. "You had a good time tonight?"

You nodded enthusiastically, your head all but bopped up and down and swayed from side to side, your face flushed. "The best time! We danced, and- and we... oh! I have something for you!" You reached into your purse, retrieving a small package wrapped in colorful paper.

Bucky's curiosity was piqued as he took the package from you, carefully unwrapping it, and revealing a set of magnets. His eyes widened in surprise. "Magnets?"

You nodded again, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "For your arm!" Your words slurred slightly as you laughed, your intoxication making the idea seem absolutely brilliant.

You took out a heart-shaped magnet, trying to stick it on Bucky's arm, to no avail. It kept falling; you huffed, annoyed, and took out another magnet from the set, this time, one shaped like a rocket ship. Aggravation was quick to take the place of your excitement when it kept falling as well.

Bucky chuckled softly, his heart melting at your drunken enthusiasm. He glanced down at his vibranium arm, knowing that the magnets wouldn't stick, he felt kind of guilty having to break the news to you. "Doll, vibranium isn't magnetic."

Your smile faltered, and your brows furrowed in disappointment. Your intoxicated glee quickly transformed into genuine heartbreak, as tears welled up in your eyes. "I... I didn't think about that," you murmured, voice laced with sadness and disappointment.

Bucky's heart ached at the sight of your distress. He gently cupped your cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear that had escaped. "Hey, hey, it's alright," he whispered soothingly, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You didn't know. It's the thought that counts." 

You sniffled, lower lip trembling. "But I wanted to your arm to look even cooler. Imagine how cool it would look with magnets, Buck." 

Bucky's heart swelled with love and adoration. He had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing at your antics. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you sighed at the feathery touch of his lips, seemingly content for the time being. 

"I love you, Bucky," you whispered, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips, your eyes shimmering with affection.

"I love you more than words can express," Bucky confessed, his voice filled with sincerity.

At that moment, everything else faded away. Sat in Bucky's lap, wrapped in his arms, your love for one another radiating throughout the room. 

"C'mon," Bucky ushered, "let's get you to bed, honey." His voice was gentle.

"Next time, I'm getting stickers," you mumbled to yourself, a very serious look on your face.

Bucky smiled blissfully, a blush adorning his face. As he held you, he knew that his love for you was unbreakable, even in the face of small disappointments. Your bond was stronger than any magnet could ever be.

i hope you liked it, pls let me know what you thought of this. likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[agendabymooner]

icy in saudi ! oliver b. x ofc (raikkonen!driver!ofc)

summary: romania ‘(a)roma’ raikkonen, now one of aston martin’s reserve and development drivers, became an f1 wag overnight after ollie turned out to be carlos sainz’s substitute for the saudi arabian grand prix.

AND she also had her personal ‘reverse harem’ aka the boys that kimi feared to have around the icegirl.

content warning: use of explicit language, establish relationship, brief mentions of kimi raikkonen, dad!kimi, f2 drivers appearance + banters, brief sexual innuendo, tweets, crack fic, 2024 saudi arabian grand prix, oc!raikkonen brother jo raikkonen (face claim: conrad laursen), kimi antonelli and ofc’s sister bantering

note: this guy goated as hell. here’s some content that ppl asked for 😭😭 it’s not much but enjoy regardless xx

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

2024 — ROUND 2, SAUDI ARABIAN GP

BREAKING NEWS: Ferrari driver Carlos Sainz hospitalized and underwent appendectomy. He is now replaced by reserve driver, Oliver Bearman, for this race.

SAUDI ARABIAN GP, POST-RACE

tagged olliebearman

liked by theopourchaire21, arthur_leclerc, frederikvestiofficial

user1 the way you called in sick as a reserve driver just to support ollie 😭😭 i want that

rooraikkonen goated ferrari driver after kimi raikkonen 🙌 liked by romaraikkonen

veracoparaikko splendid job today, ollie! liked by romaraikkonen

kimimatiasraikkonen well done, ollie 👍 liked and pinned by romaraikkonen

romaraikkonen pinning this so he can brag about it

user2 the ‘well done’ was one thing… BUT CALLING HIM OLLIE?!

user3 someone check on kimi, he’s having a stroke and calling the one guy that he despises the most by his nickname

olliebearman hehe

olliebearman love u 🙂 liked by romaraikkonen

romaraikkonen stfu lemme just appreciate ur talent pls

olliebearman ok 🙂😊

jackdoohan god what a simp 😔

theopourchaire21 let’s all pray for our fallen brother. he passed away after he suffered from ‘down baddery’

arthur_leclerc 🙏

user4 WHY ARE YALL CLOWNING OLLIE 😭😭😭 WE GET IT HES DOWN BAD BUT HE MEANS WELL

frederikvestiofficial he’s so down bad it’s actually sickening 💀

romaraikkonen i’m gonna break your ankle the next time i see you, vesti bestie

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @hiireadstuff @biancathecool @scorpiomindfuck

[earthtooz]

x : POCKY GAME ! :*+ﾟ

in which: you play the pocky game w/ various bllk boys!

warnings: gn!reader, ooc for some, fluff, lots of kissing, suggestive but not nsfw, 300-600 words depending on which blurb :p, the writing is better in some parts than others forgive me i was fighting for my life trying to get everything right >.<

a/n: if you enjoy pls like or reblog!!! okay sorry back to ur regularly scheduled content, but pls consider reblogging!!!!! have a lovely day !!!!

CONFIDENT AND COCKY. he’s the one who taunts you into it, placing the confectionary sweet between his teeth and staring at you mockingly, daring you to take the other end.

“c’mon, sweets. what’s the worst that could happen?” he jeers, sitting back in his seat. you scoff at his egotistical show. you can’t stand him, really, you can’t.

you curse that he knows this trait of yours: that you could never say no to a good challenge. you know that he’s got you cornered, unable to contain his smirk when you roll your eyes and latch on to the opposite end of the pocky. at least he was considerate enough to take the breadstick end for himself.

both of you ignore the way you step in between his legs, placing your hands on his broad shoulders for stability before the game begins, but not without a wink sent your way first.

you hate his guts. he knows it, but he wants you so desperately it hurts. 

he tries to contain his eagerness yet he can't stop his hands from snaking up to loosely hold your hips, fearing that this was just another daydream of his imagination. you, on the other hand, remain unrushed, taking your time and not falling for his bait.

you love watching him suffer, don’t you? pushing then pulling back when he gets too close, leaving him in a lovesick haze. 

he loves that you know exactly what to do every time to send him spiralling. 

after what feels like an eternity yet no time at all, his heart stutters at the gentle hover of your lips over his before going into overdrive when you press against him, leaving no biscuit or space untouched. with little control, he gives himself fully into the kiss, conveying every pent up feeling of desire that you leave brewing within him. he has longed for this moment for ages. 

and somehow, you feel it. despite his playboy appearance, you can tell with this one kiss that he’s fully devoted himself to you. as ridiculous as the notion may sound, it's evident through the bruising embrace of his, the way he’s trying to commit your lips to memory, and the way that he's tilting his head to access more of you.

it’s enough to make your heart flutter. 

but. you knew you couldn’t give in to his wants. not yet.

abruptly parting from him, he quietly whines at the loss of contact, frowning when you push his hands away with that pretty smirk of yours. so unabashed in rejecting him, aren’t you?

“you’ve gotta work harder next time, pretty boy,” you whisper against his lips before lowering your head to press a quick kiss against his neck. “i’m not that easy to impress, especially not with a stick of pocky.”

he watches longingly as you walk away, a new fire of determination burning in his veins. 

oliver, KARASU, KAISER, SHIDOU, kunigami (after… yk) 

DOUBTFUL BUT REALLY WANTS THIS. the party is in full swing, the bass of the music is buzzing through the speakers, groups of people are getting drunk, and you? well, you're playing a game for prepubescent teenagers.

“truth or dare?” one of the party goers asks the soccer player whom you’ve harbored feelings for for a while. your stomach flips in anticipation at which option he’ll choose. 

his face twists into a split second of contemplation before the answer slips out of his mouth. “dare,” he answers confidently, returning the asker’s smug expression with one of his own.

“i dare you to play the pocky game with the person who you think is the most attractive in this room.”

everyone lets out a collective ‘ooo’ at the dare and you try to ignore the way your heart drops to your stomach, your nerves crawling all over you. the soccer player laughs before accepting it, catching the strawberry pocky box that is thrown in his direction.

who just casually has pocky as a party snack? 

you don’t get to spend long dwelling on your query because your eyes suddenly lock with his and he stands up, never breaking eye contact as he walks over to where you sit.

the group erupts into cheers of encouragement when he bends down to be eye-level with you, holding the box of pocky in his hands with a small, shy smile. he was so cute- hold on. he thought you were the most attractive person in the room? oh my goodness, where you about the kiss the man you’ve been pining after for months?

“wanna play?” he asks, sounding a little uncertain.

the only response you can muster is a stupid nod, blissful expectancy settling heavy in the air as he rips open the packet and fishes out a stick. 

“let me know if you’re uncomfortable with this.” his voice is low, murmuring something that he only wanted you to hear.

“it’s fine,” you reassure before latching your mouth to the opposite end, trying not to show the flurry of emotions whirlpooling within you in this very moment. 

was this real? are you dreaming? 

when your noses lightly bump into each other, you wake up to reality because this was real. you weren’t dreaming and his face was now mere millimetres away from yours. his eyes glance up from your lips to meet your eyes and you feel a spark occur, one that wasn’t unwelcome.

there’s just one little bit left, you can practically feel his lips against yours, the gap tormenting the two of you as one of you waits for the other to make the first move. he shakily exhales. you're going to go insane from anticipation.

fuck it. you’ve come this far.

he jolts a little in surprise at your boldness before melting into you, smiling into the kiss as all tension seeps out of his shoulders. distantly, you hear cheers and whoops from everyone, too caught up in the feeling of finally having him against you, blissfully relishing at the way your arms wind around his neck, embracing him like you've been meaning to for a while.

he smiles against you when noticing how eager you are, relieved and delighted at the same time.

"you're perfect," he whispers when he reluctantly breaks away, eyes droopy yet filled with desire.

you’re caught off guard when he tells the person next to you to move aside before sitting down, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as everyone else watches. 

thank goodness for truth or dare.

isagi, yukimiya, REO, SAE (ik he’s like a ‘cool’ guy or whatever but i think he’s a total dork so let me have my moment),

DOES IT BECAUSE HE LOVES YOU. he could not care less about some stupid game and he sure doesn’t need a fucking game to kiss the love of his life. he could do that whenever he pleases; a luxury that he will never take for granted.

but when you looked so happy and excited to try it out, how could he say no? 

“this is ridiculous,” he mutters, making his opinion known for the umpteenth time before connecting his lips to the end of the pocky stick. after a small countdown, the game begins and he starts without hesitation, biting down on the breadstick with an unmatched pace, quickly crossing into your territory.

before he could reach you though, you pull away, unsatisfied with his impatience. he groans at the sudden lack of contact, especially when he was so close to getting what he wanted.

“could you at least try a little harder?” you ask, unimpressed as he finishes the snack.

“i’m trying very hard, isn’t the point of this game to kiss one another?” he counters.

“well, yeah-”

“-if anything, you’re losing right now, love, so why don’t you try a little harder?” he asks in a low tone, nearing his face towards yours as his voice turns a little more sultry at the end. 

you push his face away, grinning to hide the effect he still has on you. “oh shut up, creep. what if i proposed a challenge?” 

“i’m listening.”

“let’s play it so that we try not to kiss, how about that, pretty boy? loser does whatever the winner wants.”

he straightens up a little at the nickname usage and the prospect of a prize. quirking a brow out of fascination, he relents. “fine. ass deal, but whatever you want.”

you keen at his willingness before grabbing another stick to set up the game once again. when you glance back up at him, a shiver runs down your spine at the darkened, lidded look he was giving you.

he prompts you to do the same when he takes a bite from the snack. 

this time, he’s slow and methodical with his actions, taking small bites to meet you in the middle where you enter a stalemate. here you can feel his breath against your lips, fanning against you ever so gently. 

this is going to be a lot harder than you anticipated because he’s really good at resisting temptation and urging you at the same time. it’s almost unfair how he keeps nearing your lips, threatening to close the gap before leaning away, leaving you to chase after him, all whilst holding a delicate piece of breadstick between his teeth. you can’t exactly make out if he’s smirking or not, but the mirth is evident in his eyes. 

he’s luring you in and it’s working.

next thing you know, you’re surging up to meet his lips in a clash of teeth, passion, and desire, all in one. it’s messy, but he wouldn’t want it any other way, especially when he’s the one who got what he wanted.

oh well, this wasn’t too bad for you either.

“see,” he says, pulling away, breathless and panting, his swollen lips forming into a smile. “this is way better than some stupid game.”

“shut up and make out with me.”

he keeps it to himself how you bought his least favourite flavour because it tastes better with you.

RIN, niko, chigiri (hear me out on this one: i’m right)

HOW DID YOU GET HERE? you were enjoying your packet of pocky, really, you weren’t expecting anything exhilarating. however, that changed when he snuck up beside you, peering over your shoulder to see what you were eating.

you don’t miss the way his eyes light up upon seeing the branded snack in your hands and immediately asks if he can have one. when you glance inside the packet to see how many you have remaining, you tell him that there’s only one left which you tauntingly put in your mouth to gloat in his face.

what you were not expecting at all was for him to take a bite of the opposite end and you're immediately stunned into silence.

if that wasn’t enough, there was no shame when he began nibbling on it, closing the gap between your faces as he concentrates intensely on eating the confectionary sweet. 

you’re quite literally frozen, not having it in you to merely blink, too scared to move or retract away from him lest your poor heart give out from how it thunders in your chest, reverberating with the might of a thousand suns. 

if that wasn’t bad enough, the way he gently grabs your face with both hands to keep you cemented where you are only worsens your current predicament. warm palms holding either side as he stares determinedly at your lips, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

was he always this pretty?

then, when you don’t think he can get any closer, he snaps the stick, pulling back with a satisfied grin, hands lingering where they’ve sought purchase before returning to his side.

“thanks for sharing, y/n. best pocky i’ve ever had in my life,” he says before turning around, walking away to leave you on the verge of a meltdown. 

NAGI, bachira (but with more excitement), otoya, 

[heizouz]

nsfw sub!heizou + gn!reader, overstimulating

"m-my god, please, please, god." you'd never seen him this desperate before.

heizou's work papers are spread out around him on the bed, messily strewn and unorganised. he's only in his shirt, unbuttoned, and his black tie hung loosely around his collar.

he's already cum once, made a mess all over himself but you hadn't given him a chance to breathe as you continue to drag your hand over his cock, your speed not changing.

heizou gasps, fingers grabbing the sheets and his shirt rides up his stomach when he arches his back off the bed, head thrown back and thighs shaking slightly.

"i'm.. i- i'm-" heizou cuts himself off constantly, with whimpers and whines, gasping for air. he can't think about anything but your hand on his cock, and he's bucking his hips into your fist. he feels dazed and dizzy, everything too much because you've never overstimulated him before.

"'m gonna cum, pl-mhfuck please." the last 'please' comes out breathless and heizou looks at you through his eyelashes before he moans loudly, fucking into your fist needily and you just let him.

"you gonna cum again, doll?" you tease, voice soft and you pick up your pace only slightly but it knocks a pretty moan from his lips.

heizou nods all pliant, eyes big and teary and he whimpers, "y-yeah-mh.." his eyebrows are furrowed, pretty lips open in small pants and he's still needily canting his hips into your hand. his laid-back, confident persona had simmered away, desperation clinging to him as soon as you had got your hands on him.

you tilt your head slightly, watching as he fucks himself with your hand and the red haired keeps gasping loudly. you lean over him - unbothered about crushing his papers - hand never slowing down on his cock and you gently hook your finger under his chin to make him look at you. heizou's olive eyes are dazed, only just open as he pants heavily, chest rising and falling and small whimpers leave his lips.

"you're so pretty, darling. so pretty when you're so desperate," you look down to watch your hand slide up and down his pretty cock dripping onto his stomach, "gonna make another mess for me?"

heizou nods again, eyes closing, "mhm.. pl..please."

you can't help the small smile forcing its way onto your lips at how needy he is. you'd never seen him so submissive before, his brain almost completely switched off of anything but you and your hand on him.

"oh, god.. please.." you squeeze his cock lightly, turning his head to look at you again and there's not a single thought behind his pretty eyes other than wanting to cum for you.

heizou makes the prettiest noise when you tease the head of his cock, back arching off the bed as he moans, fucking into your fist once again. you bite your lip gently, watching as he drips against your fingers and you part your lips in awe, "fuck. i could have you like this all day."

you watch him break - panting and gasping endlessly, hands grabbing everything he can: the sheets, your forearm, his work papers by his side.

brushing your thumb over his tip again, you swallow his pretty whines when you press your lips to his. heizou whimpers against your lips, kiss desperate as he gasps into your mouth, hips knocking into your fist in a needy way of showing he was close.

you quietly groan against his lips and he only lasts a few more seconds. it takes just a small flick of your wrist for him to snap.

the red haired pulls away from your lips, head falling back on to the bed in a silent gasp before a loud moan rips from his throat. heizou's back arches, fists gripping the sheets and eyes rolling back when he cums against your hand. you don't move away from his face, watching his eyes open slightly and pretty tears shine in them. you lean down to press a desperate kiss to his lips and he can hardly kiss back, whole body lax.

"fuck, that's it baby." you groan and stroke him through it as he cums, making a mess all over your fist and his stomach and his thighs shake as he gently bucks into your hand. heizou's shirt is crumpled underneath him, along with a few of his papers but he doesn't even realise, chest rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath.

you don't let up though. your hand still works along his cock, albeit slower than before to help him through the sensitivity. your strokes are light but the touch is enough for heizou to whimper, head shaking, "stop, please.. please.."

"you can do one more, can't you?" you smile, watching heizou's hips stutter every time your hand glides up his cock, "c'mon, darling."

heizou almost cries out once your grip tightens a little, eyes welling up with pretty tears. the red haired breathes heavily, eyes glancing at you desperately, "can't- i can't, please."

despite the denial, he lets out a quiet moan, eyebrows scrunching. heizou's legs unconsciously fall open and a grin tugs at your lips.

"that's a good boy."

[keraxxx]

I need Oliver and Felix so bad like you don’t understand.. IM DESPERATE.

but can you please write something about brat taming w Oliver 😕🙏 like reader is also a friend of Felix similar to farleigh and she’s just very against Oliver bc she feels like he’s gonna take Felix away from her..

Pls include spanking 😋😋

OMG IM VIBRATING THIS IS A GOOD IDEA. OFC IM GONNA WRITE THIS!! I’m gonna base this off the scene with Farleigh and Oliver a bit. (sorry this is kinda short..)

Brat taming

pairing: oliver quick x bratty f!reader

warnings: spanking, fingering, cursing, manipulation (maybe..), crying, oral (R receiving), slut shaming, roughness, orgasm denial, not proof read.

a/n: HI GUYS! i’m sorry i love this idea so fucking much. ALSO for my series i’m planning to have the next chapter out late night tomorrow or thursday. Anyways enjoy! 💋 (dw i’m getting to the other request soon this one js caught my eye)

-

You were lying down in your bed, spread out onto the sheets, your eyes closed and headphones on. You weren’t sleep yet, you couldn’t sleep. Why was he here? You talked to Felix about this earlier.. You were scared Oliver would take Felix from you but of course, Felix denied your accusation and just kissed your head. You knew his friend had some sort of bad intentions you just couldn’t figure out what. Maybe he wanted to steal Felix for himself.. The way he looked at you showed hostility and you hated it. You hum as your eyes squeeze and you groan in frustration just thinking about the idea. You turn on your back and sigh, your hand on your forehead as you try to sleep.

You grunt softly as you feel a sudden pressure on your stomach, causing you to jolt up slightly, your eyes immediately opening. Someone was sitting on top of you. “Ollie?” You ask softly in a confused tone as you take off your headphones. He’s sitting on your stomach, squeezing your sides with his knees. “Ollie.. I think you’re on the wrong room.” You heaved out as he leaned down to look at you. “Am I?” He whispers, his face just inches from yours. He locks eyes with you, causing you to whine softly.

“You need to learn to behave.” Oliver growls. “Get up.” He commands as he gets off your stomach, allowing you to breathe more clearly. You hesitantly get up off the bed only for him to pull you back down onto him. He bent you over his lap in a painful way. You groan as his hand teases the soft silk fabric of your short white nightgown. “You have such a big mouth.. You can never stay quiet, huh? You need to learn to fucking whisper.” He hisses as he takes his free hand and forcefully grabs your cheeks, bringing your face up slightly as he leans down to yours. “You’re such a fucking slut for Felix.. Now shut up and behave for me.” He whispered before releasing you from his grip again. His hand at the edge of your nightgown slowly lifted up and bunched your gown around your waist, revealing your panties.

Oliver tuts as he looks at them, causing you to muffle a grunt. “Ollie I-“ He cuts you off with a loud smack on your ass. You yelp out loud and choke out a sob as he grabs your face again. “I said.. shut up and behave.” He raises his hand again and slapped your bottom. “Ollie please!” You moan out as he rubs your cheek to calm the sore redness threatening to appear soon. “Shut up.” He hissed again as he puts his free hand over your mouth. His hand slowly trails down your ass cheek and teases the wet mound under your panties, causing you to gyrate against his hand ever so slightly, soft and muffled whines spilling from your lips.

“You’re so wet..” Oliver chuckled as he watched you rub yourself against his hand. “You’re a slut for me too?” He whispers curiously. “I thought you ‘fucking hated me?’” “I do.” You say muffled, causing him to grip your face tighter. “Then why are you dripping all over?” He smirks before moving your panties to the side, revealing the sweet and succulent smell of your cunt. He moans in satisfaction before rubbing his middle finger against your drooling hole. His finger slowly teases its way into your cunt, causing you to moan, your legs squeezing together. He slowly pumps his finger in and out of your aching hole, your soft whimpers almost pouring through his hand.

“Will you behave?” He asks again in a hurried whisper and you gasp out a short yes. “Aww..” He coos as he watched you helplessly grind yourself into his finger. He lets out a dry laugh before shoving another finger into your tight hole. The gush of your juices spilling out onto his fingers makes you embarrassed. You hated him so much.. yet he’s fingering you in your own bedroom and you’re letting him. You moan as he picks up the pace of pounding your pussy, his fingers stretching you out in the slightest.

“I’m so close.” You whine into his hand and he snickers. “Yeah?” You nod and immediately your orgasm is ripped from you. You scoff as you look at him. “Ollie.. Please.” You whimpered out as he removed his hand from your mouth. He enticingly moves his cunt soaked fingers to his lips, teasing at his bottom lip before gently licking and sucking them clean. You watch him in awe, as if you’re in a trance. He removes his fingers from his mouth and hums. “There you go.. good girl.” He smirks. “You finally shut up.”

Oliver picks you up from his lap and places you on your bed, laying on top of you. He caress the side of your neck before gently placing his lips on yours. “Can you taste yourself?” He teases against your lips and you nod slowly as he pulls away. He trails down your body, touching and feelings your chest and stomach before he makes his way to your aching pussy. Oliver eagerly rips your panties from your body, causing a groan to escape your mouth. He looks at you knowingly before he lifts your thighs over his shoulders. “Shh..” He hushes before sticking out his tongue and placing it into your throbbing clit. Your back arches up at the sensation of his tongue rubbing circles into your clit, one of your hands finding its way to his hair and the other covering your mouth to stay silent. He eats your pussy like a hungry man, slurping up any juice that falls from you, his hands gripping the thighs on his shoulders. He slaps the side of your thigh as he teases your entrance with his tongue. Your jaw drops open into inaudible moans, your eyes rolling back and fluttering closed. He places kisses on your clit and lips, jolts of euphoria getting sent through your body as your legs begin to shake.

“You’re so close.. I just know it.” Oliver whispers into your pussy before indulging himself in it again. You choke back a sob as you tug at his hair, confirming his idea. He pulls away and rubs your clit. “Come on slut.” He coos as the knot in your stomach went away, releasing your juices all over your sheets. Oliver smirks to himself as he goes back down and licks you clean. Your jaw is left wide open as you watch him. He pulls himself up to your face and looks into your eyes again.

“Stop talking to others about me..” He whispers and you nod. “..’m sorry.” You say softly as his gaze softens.

“Good.”

-

[readychilledwine]

Matching Wounds

Summary - The first High Lord's meeting after the war with Hybern brings some old memories up that Lyria and Rhys would have rather forgotten, leaving their mates to try to patch together wounds they can't see.

Warnings - degrading language, asshole brothers, hinting to PTSD without getting into full signs and symptoms

Prompt - Day 2 - Comfort

A/n - Happy @polyacotarweek! I've been asked about Lyria and Rhysand's dynamic as well as Azriel and Feyre's, and I felt today was a good day to give a preview into it, and into what Olive Branch will focus on, which is the comfort Rhys and Lyria found in each other UTM.

This is a non-sex based swinging dynamic. Rhysand is more of a secondary romantic partner to strictly Lyria, as Azriel is with Feyre, which is vastly different than the relationship we see in Fours Company between Lyria, Az, and Nessian.

💙 Meet Lyria Here 💙

✨️ Poly+ACOTAR Masterlist ✨️

There was a reason Rhysand had promised Lyria she would never attend a High Lord's meeting. She was clinging to him in his bed now as Feyre and Azriel just watched. Heavy sobs had turned into small sniffles as Rhys stared at the wall, eyes lost and hand moving absentmindedly along her exposed spine. 

Feyre had only gotten to see Lyria once under the mountain and now she knew why, “Rhysand's whore,” the term had been spat at her by her own older brother before he did truly spit at her feet. “Rhysand's Whore,” who had been trapped in his room. Wasting her days away in the same style of dresses Feyre wore, sitting on his lap the nights Feyre wasn't. 

It was ironic, really. The four of them, Eris, and Lucien all knew Rhysand never touched Lyria, never laid a finger on her skin until they had agreed to this, yet to the outside world, Rhys had already had her in ways Lyria had never experienced. 

Feyre knew from the bond that Rhysand was lost in his own mind as well. Lost in the regret he felt. Lost in the images of different red hair, paler skin, and dead eyes. 

“Ideas?” She whispered softly to Azriel. 

“Dinner and leaving them be,” his scarred hand still held Feyre's perfect one. “It's all we can offer them. You and I do not know what happened to them fully. We do not know what brought them together. We just know Rhys refused to be away from her and brought her here once you freed everyone.”

“Do you want to fly to the bakery they love and pick up dinner with me?”

Azriel rose a brow before kissing her tattooed hand. “Of course.”

Rhysand felt himself clinging to Lyria. Clinging to the soft fabric of her dress, clinging in her textured hair, clinging to the scent of her skin. He loves Feyre. Loves her so dearly and completely, but the comfort he found in Lyria was unmatched. 

She had been there during his darkest nights, whispering how she saw him, how she knew him beyond that mask he wore. 

And now she was paying the price for being his comfort. “Rhysand's whore,” the name replayed itself in his mind over and over. He had watched it land on Lyria. Watched the light in her eyes flicker, watched her shrink into herself, watched her push Azriel, Nesta, and Cassian away.

But she clinged to him. The same way he did her. She wanted him, but she waited until they were home. Amarantha's whore and Rhysand's whore. What a fucking pair, he thought bitterly. 

Lyria had her head buried in Rhysand's neck, breathing in his scent and feeling it wash over her. She thought nothing of it as he laid them back, running fingers through her hair. “Our mates went out.” 

She nodded, feeling his warmth as his head turned to hers. “They shouldn't miss date night because you and I are sad.” 

Rhys simply hummed, hand going to the hair at the back of her head and tilting her face up toward his. “No, no, they should not.” Rhys continued to massage her scalp as whiskey eyes held his. “You know nothing they said was true, right?”

“It does not make it hurt any less. Even if my brother was just saying it as a mask. It also doesn't make those memories of that place go away.”

Rhys understood all too well, pulling her impossibly closer. “I'm sorry I could not protect you soon.”

A soft kiss hit his jawline. “And I'm sorry I couldn't protect you.” 

“He doesn't need protection. Big bad illyrian baby,” Feyre's voice was sarcastic as she and Azriel came back to the room, bags of food in hand. “We are going to leave you two alone, but we brought you your favorites.”

“Why leave?” Rhys rose a single brow, but refused to look away from Lyria. “We Should all eat together. Be together.”

Azriel looked to Feyre, the two of them communicating silently. “We can feel you two wanting to be alone. We're offering that.”

Lyria sighed. “Sometimes wanting to be alone isn't the best answer. Stay. We can all take comfort in each other and all help each other get our minds off what happened.” Azriel looked to Feyre caving as he walked her over to the couches. “Come on, mister High Lord.” Rhys rolled his eyes as he was pulled over, Lyria sitting beside him as Azriel sat beside Feyre. Silence was between the four of them, relishing in the safety and comfort of each other. 

“So, is no-one going to talk about it?” Lyria's face grew into an all too familiar snake-like grin. “Surely you all saw the absolute monstrosity of an outfit father was wearing.”

Azriel smirked at his mate, “Gossip.”

“Learned it from you,” she turned to Feyre. “And you.” She kissed Rhysand's cheek, “And most definitely from you. Now talk about my family with me to make me feel better.”

“The little things make you happy, don't they, darling?” Rhys turned her jaw. “Such a simply pretty girl.”

Feyre's eyes lit up. “The prettiest girl.”

“My pretty girl,” Azriel reminded them. 

“Our pretty girl.” Rhysand and Feyre both said.

“Our pretty girl who deserves all the affection tonight,” Feyre continued. “Maybe she and I will run away and you two can brood and compare shadows.”

Azriel took his turn choking before laughing. “We don't brood all the time.”

“Yes you do.”

Lyria leaned into Rhysand's shoulder, feeling lighter from the distraction. I love you, he sent into her mind. We all love you. You are safe here.

So are you, she reminded him. You are safe and loved, too. This is a good distraction. They are stunning together.

It is, and they are. She loves Azriel very much. By the way, it's not Beron's worst outfit to date. 

Lyria's eyes grew wide turning to Rhysand as Feyre and Azriel continued to agree playfully. “Show me?”

“Of course, darling.”

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