#that lip bite was glorious

[pickletrip]

That lip bite to put Chen Yi in his place was everything and more. Such beauty. Ai Di, he will never let anyone take advantage of him, even the one whom he loves. Speak your mind Ai Di and show Chen Yi what he's really missing out on.

[bi-writes]

you don't think ghost likes you very much. (part 2 of this, but can be read standalone) (18+, semi-dark content ahead, ghoap x fem!reader)

he doesn't like you. no matter what you do, what you wear, what you say, you know he doesn't approve of you, not really.

not like johnny.

johnny adores the ground you walk on. his lips are always on you. in your ear, along your neck, against your collarbone. his tongue is warm, and it slides along your jaw, around your fingers, sucking on your skin.

"what a nice gift, LT," he always says. "got the nicest pussy 'v e'er had." and then he puts those eyes on, those big, soft, blue ones, and he asks, "can i keep 'er, LT? can i have 'er?"

and johnny is so good. johnny does what he's asked of. johnny says yes, he never says no. johnny smiles and nods and does what he is told, and so johnny gets to have you.

johnny gets to keep you.

but you are a pet, and you are nothing more, and ghost never lets you believe otherwise. he doesn't even give you his name; it's ghost, and ghost only, and he never touches you. not the way the johnny does.

he competes with you, but it isn't a competition. johnny doesn't listen to you, not if ghost contradicts you. he will win, and he will win every time, and even though you are aware of this, he reminds you, all the time.

"johnny, please--" you sob, and he laughs, rubbing his stubble against your thigh gently. it's wet, because he's slobbered all over your cunt, and your hole pulses because it wants more. "johnnny...j-johnny, please--"

"oh, relax, my little lamb..." he sucks your clit into his mouth gently, suckling on the puckered bud. you whine at that, reaching down, pulling on the long strands of hair down the middle of his head, and he groans. "makin' a right mess..."

you're crying. tears falling down your face, pleasure like fire at the base of your spine and crawling up your back, and you reach up and squeeze the swell of your breasts, pulling on your nipples gently. johnny always gets you here--right at the top of a glorious fucking hill, and when you come down it, he carries you, keeping you high for as long as he can before he tries again and again and again--

"fuck are y' doing?" a rough voice growls. johnny's ripped off of you, his back arching as a gloved hand yanks on his head. johnny grunts, hissing, and you whine when you see ghost gripping him by his neck, holding the back of his head to his chest. "spoiled. you spoil her, johnny."

"she's so pretty, LT...i--"

"you spoil her." ghost tilts his head to the side, and you see his eyes narrow, a harsh glare at you from under the mask that makes you shake a little. "spoil her fuckin' rotten."

he doesn't let you come. he's a selfish motherfucker.

you don't know why he doesn't like you. for all intents and purposes, he chose you. and he had all but asked you to leave. tortured you, yes, but he hasn't asked you to leave. he still wants you here, doesn't he? if he hated you, if he was jealous, if he really disapproved of you, a man such as he would just kick you out, wouldn't he?

johnny and ghost are gone today. you're alone, and you've decided to occupy your time by cleaning. you put away the clean dishes, fold the laundry that was stuck in the dryer, pick up around the kitchen. ghost keeps the place very clean--but they were pressed for time in the morning, so johnny left you with the softest kisses, and ghost with just a grunt.

you're arranging fresh flowers in the living room when you hear the front door shut. you bounce into the hallway, a big smile on your face ready to greet johnny, but you freeze when you see only one big shadow shrugging off his rain jacket.

ghost is by himself, and he rolls out his neck as he toes off his boots. he hangs up his jacket, still not looking at you.

"wot?" he snaps. "cat got your tongue, little rabbit?"

you swallow, shaking your head.

"sorry...i thought...thought it was johnny."

"yeah? and wot? just 'cause it's not johnny, gonna not greet me like y'should, yeah?" he bites. you stand still for another minute before coming towards him. you lean up on your toes and kiss his cheek, but when you pull away, he reaches down and grips your ass tight, forcing your pelvis against his and rumbling low. he snarls a little, and you tilt your head back as he presses the front of his mask against your lips, kissing you through it. "tha'sit. good girl."

a soft sound comes out of you, a moan, a whimper, you aren't sure, but he smacks your ass gently, nodding his head.

"go on," he mutters. "on the couch."

he eyes you as you walk away.

"'n why the fuck are y'wearin' all those clothes?"

your insides warm at that, and you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder.

"oh. sorry." you slide your sweats off and toss them aside. it's then that ghost realizes you're wearing his shirt. he runs a hand over his taut stomach, adjusting himself shamelessly in his jeans as he watches you bend over to get onto the couch. you wear no panties, and he hums under the mask, tilting his head to the side.

"johnny got held up on base," he murmurs, coming into the living room. you take a seat on the couch, looking up at him, squeezing your thighs together.

"so...we're all alone?" you ask. this is your chance. this is the opportunity you have been waiting for. with no johnny to distract him, all he has is you, and he can't ignore you. not this time.

"all alone, sweetheart."

you swallow hard. "why don't you like me?"

the question is blunt and clear. ghost clicks his tongue under the mask, focusing on you, and he shakes his head.

"tha' isn't wot it is."

"then what is it?"

he just stares, and you shake your head. you need answers. you need to know what you're doing wrong--you want to be good.

"not you, luvie. it's my boy, my poor johnny..." you watch as he grips himself through his jeans again, visibly hard as he squeezes his cock over his zipper. "fuckin' annoying when he isn't the center of attention. my attention. you understand, right?"

you watch him, licking your bottom lip.

"b-but...but--"

"turns into a bloody muppet. pouts like a baby." ghost comes closer, leaning over you, gripping your chin gently. "wot, huh? thought i didn't want y'around?" you whimper when he squeezes your face between his big hand, squishing your cheeks. "'n how could i not, yeah? look at ya..."

he growls under the mask.

"y'wet, sweetheart?" he asks, and you lean back, spreading your knees, and he grunts when he sees between your thighs. the skin is wet, soft and slick, and he hums lowly when he sees how you clench around nothing. "wanna taste, luv. give it t'me."

you reach down gently, sliding two fingers through your folds. you whine a little, scooping a nice handful of slick, and then you pick up your fingers for him. he pushes his mask up, and you shiver when you see the wicked grin on his scarred face. then he takes your fingers into his mouth.

he leans over you. his mouth his hot, and you shake a little when his tongue slips over your fingers, warm muscle swallowing as he tastes you.

"fuckin' hell," he murmurs when he lets your fingers go. "know why johnny spends all his time down there, yeah?"

you giggle, arching your back a little, pulling his shirt up.

"ghost...why dont...why dont you come here?" you reach for the waistband of his pants, tugging gently, and he falls over you on the couch. you meet his eyes as you start to unbutton his jeans. "i want you to spend time here, too, y'know."

"tha' right, sweetheart?"

you smile, "y-yeah." you unzip his pants, your jaw falling open when you pull him out. he's so big, nice and girthy and pretty, and the tip is so pink, dribbling precum and just aching for your tongue to taste him. you rub your thumb over the tip, and he hisses. "and...a-and i love johnny..." you look back up into his eyes. "b-but...i..."

he reaches around and fists your hair, growling against your lips.

"need a right beast to fuck this pretty pussy, yeah? need someone to--" you cry out as he yanks your head back, exposing your neck to him. "--fuckin' ruin ya."

you squeal, arching your back, and he chuckles, but it's mean. you wrap your arms around his neck, and he leans down, resting his forehead against yours.

"yah, luv, y'r mine, just as much as johnny--" you gasp when he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, "y'belong to me. gonna write my name across your fuckin' cunt, sweetheart, fuck that idea right into your pretty head--"

you cry when he fucks you. when he sits up on his knees, gripping you from under your thighs, fucking into you with a reckless rhythm that leaves your thighs shaking and warm tears coming down your face.

"look at you..." ghost hisses, and you cry more, keening as he stares down at where you're connected and the squelch of you dribbles down his thighs. "bloody hell..."

your back bows, your thighs clamping around ghost's hips as he fucks you into the mattress. you can barely think, the only sensation you can really absorb is the way his thighs smack against your ass and the feel of his big, gloved hands spreading you open.

"just needed me right here, yeah?" ghost grunts, slowing his pace as he nestles his pelvis right against yours. you whine; he's so deep, it hurts, but it hurts so good, you don't tell him to stop, you can't. he's so much bigger than johnny, in every way, and you feel suffocated, but if this is how you die, so be it. getting fucked brainless is not the worst way to go, not like this. you gasp when he smooths a big hand over your stomach, pressing the pad of his thumb to where you know the tip of his cock sits. "right there, luv, tha' place is for me, yeah? 's mine, my spot--"

ghost leans down, growling against your neck, a firm grind of his hips punching your cervix again. you claw at ghost's back, and it's painfully obvious how desperate you are--you nearly rip ghost's shirt in pieces.

"this place is for me," he murmurs, spreading his fingers. he grips your waist in both hands and gives you a hard thrust, leaning his head back as he feels you clench hard. you like it when he talks, he can tell--the sound of his voice has you that much wetter, and he clicks his tongue as he leans back, rubbing a gloved thumb over your pretty little clit. "wanna live here...want ya to be my little pet..." he smirks under the mask when you cry, so sensitive. "whenever i want, want you bent over, spread nice 'n wide f'me." he hums low, "whenever i want, yeah?"

he talks like you aren't there. like he isn't cock-deep inside of you, molding the soft places of your pussy to the shape of him. ghost, despite being a little breathless, has no tremble in his voice despite how hot he feels, and he knows, suddenly, why johnny fawns over you. there is nothing that compares to this--there is nothing quite like fucking this pretty princess, watching her tits bounce, her thighs shake, feeling how soft and lovely she is when he gets her right where she belongs--stupid and cumming.

"a princess ya are, yeah?" ghost chuckles. "a right spoiled one, innit?"

and maybe you are a little spoiled. you had no idea you would be getting two for one--johnny and his looming shadow.

you grip ghost's shirt from the front tight, balling it up in tight fists and pulling him close.

"please!" you squeal. "please, please, please--" you moan and sob against the front of his mask. "w-wanted you for so long--w-wanted--"

"ya did?" ghost tilts his head to the side, picking up the pace. he cradles your head between his arms, pressing his face to yours. "even though i was a bastard?"

you mewl, nodding, reaching down and gripping his lower back as he grinds mercilessly. the curls at the base of his cock are rubbing against your clit now, and you angle your hips to catch the feeling every time, and you know you're getting close. you're there.

"almost said your name--" you gasp. "w-when...when he..."

"poor thing--" he chuckles. "thought johnny was what you wanted?" he knows you like the way he's fucking you, and he slows down, wanting to see your face and every expression you make. "what you needed?"

you nod. "i need him," you whisper. "but it isn't enough."

"no, you're such a greedy bunny--" he grips your face tight, sitting up, and you cry when he fucks you. he's an animal, he's lost control, and you are helpless under him. all you can do is spread your knees wider and moan. "johnny can't tame you, but i can, yeah?"

you meet his eyes, big and soft and wet, and he hisses. the look in your eyes, he cums instantly, falling over you and barely having enough time to put his hand out and catch himself. you gasp at the feeling, reaching down, and with a few soft circles of your fingers, ghost lets out a strangled sound as he feels you tighten and cum. the front of his thighs are soaked, and he nudges your chin up with his nose as he breathes in the scent of you from your neck.

"don't say of word of this to 'im, yeah? got ourselves a jealous little bastard," he murmurs against your ear. you nod, and when he kisses you, you can't help the way you relax. cupping his scarred face, licking into his mouth--ghost is your keeper, and he's johnny's keeper, and you know suddenly why johnny does whatever he says, whenever he wants.

ghost is in charge. he just is, and even though you're just a little, innocent civilian, ghost has given you orders, and you will follow them. there is a soft, aching place inside of you that wants to please him so badly--wants to impress him, show him how good you can be. and you imagine, wonder, if johnny has that same feeling in him, that same little press on the inside of his ribs that screams, be a good boy, a good girl, do just as he says, he'll give such a nice reward.

and when johnny comes home, there you are, all soft smiles and tender touches and little giggles that make his belly hurt so nice. and when he tells you he's hungry, you spread your legs, using two fingers to show him your pretty, wet cunt. and he dives in, like he always does, because one of his favorite places is feeling the rub of your thighs against his stubble and your fingers tugging his hair.

his tongue spreads your folds, and he hums with delight when you fall onto your back, pliant and soft and warm. and then he tastes you, and he swallows, and his eyes flicker when there is something else there, something that he knows.

johnny's eyes dart up, looking over you, and he can see ghost lingering in the doorway, watching, and then johnny understands what it is he tastes--and why he likes it so fucking much, and why it tastes like something he knows.

he meets ghost's eyes, and they look at each other, and johnny knows what it is that he's done, what it is he's eating out of you. but ghost knows johnny is a good boy, and he won't pull away, he won't make a scene. no. johnny pulls back a little, wiping his face.

he smiles. and then he leans in for more.

[norrisleclercf1]

i heard someone was in need of poly requests and i was summoned. anyway, this idea has been stuck in my head for days so i'll gift it to u😘

basically its pre-established polyship with lestappen and each of u are CONVINCED that the other two are dating (angst and pining ensues) sisksnsiekmwhswej but do with this what u will

oki bye bye love u nat🫶🫶

A/N: I don't normally write misunderstood trope, but honestly I'm loving this but I'm going to take a little spin on Max and Reader dating and flirt and tease Charles all the time, couple times you teased, and the one time he took you up on your offer

"You have a very small waist," Max comments one day, Charles jumping out of his skin, Max's voice brushing his ear, which has Charles stumbling forward and blushing. "I'm sorry what?" Max smirks, leaning over the railing as you giggle from your seat.

"You're waist, it's so small and perfect, really tiny when my hands are on it." Max lips turn upwards and Charles forgets how to breath as he'd get strike down with lighting with the image that just popped into his head. "Oh, I um....oh," Is all Charles can say in return which has you giggling. He can't help but let his eyes trail down noticing the small red between your legs and his eyes immediately snap back up to yours.

"I have to go!" He blurts and rushes off leaving you and Max, as you two watch him like he was prey.

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

"Charles?" Your voice floats to him with so much ease he hates that you could whisper in a club and still know where you are. "Yes, chaton?" He quickly turns to you, forgetting his drink at the bar as you two stood in some fancy party. "Max left, I was wondering, would you be okay with driving me home?" You ask, fingers trailing up his arm which has him shivering.

"Why did Max leave?" He blurts, mind rushing so fast as he tries not to go weak in the knees from your perfume. "I don't know," You shrug your shoulders and lean into Charles, your breasts being pushed against him, he has to look away quickly to stop himself from getting hard. "Look, can you give me a ride home or not? Because he has to fly out soon, and I can't get out of this dress myself." Charles groans in the back of his throat and bites his bottom lip.

"Oh saint doux putain." He groans as he feels your hips push more into his. "Fuck, sorry I can't." He moves and bolts away, choosing to ignore the way Max was standing at the exit and watched as Charles ran.

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

"Cold!" Charles yells, as Max screams and sprays the champagne all of Charles. This was the only time Max wasn't angry about being second, seeing Charles squirm and be sprayed with champagne was a glorious thing. "Oh fuck off, you love being sprayed in the face, don't you?" Max whispers in Charles's ear which has the Monegasque groaning, picturing himself on his knees and between Max's legs.

"You're right, I do. But only for you," Charles whispers, which has Max stumbling as they take the picture and Charles chuckles and gives a pat to Max on his ass. "See you later, nice race." Charles winks and walks off leaving Max reeling and a very noticeable bulge in his race suits.

The fans go wild.

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

He couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't hold himself together anymore and he was going crazy. You "accidentally" sent him a picture of you riding Max and he knew exactly where you two were.

Storming up to the hotel room door he knocks loudly, breathing hard, only in his boxers and t-shirt as he was woken from sleep. "Charles?" You're shocked to see him there, but he doesn't care and tugs you into his arms and kisses you hard. A clash of teeth, tongue, and moaning.

Shoving you into the room he kicks the door and picks you up dropping you on the bed. Max smirking as Charles tugs off his shirt, glaring at the two of you. "This is what's going to happen, I'm going to fuck you hard and deep that just looking at me your pussy can still feel me inside you. And you," Charles glares which has Max smirking, all in his naked glory.

"You're going to let my suck your cock and then fuck me because I can't handle this. And then in the morning I'm taking you both to breakfast and then we're done with this little dance, deal?" He asks and you whimper seeing him this way.

"Deal," You both say.

You got a really big noise complaint about your room.

[pucksandpower]

Man’s World

Charles Leclerc x Ferrari engineer!Reader

Summary: Charles refuses to just stand by and watch as you get disrespected

Warnings: misogyny and lewd comments

You’re admiring the sleek lines of the red Ferrari F8 Tributo in front of you, running your fingers lightly over the glossy paint. The showroom is quiet this early in the morning, just a few employees milling about getting ready for the day.

Charles had to stop by to sign some merchandise for a charity event and asked if you wanted to tag along. You opted to wait out front and enjoy the eye candy while he took care of business.

You circle around to the back of the car, appreciating the aggressive styling and massive rear diffuser. As an engineer for Scuderia Ferrari who often extends your expertise to working on their road cars, you know every detail of this machine intimately. Your hands itch to pop the hood and inspect that glorious twin-turbo V8, but you resist.

This isn’t your workshop back in Maranello.

Lost in thought, you don’t notice the group of guys entering the showroom until one whistles loudly. “Hey baby, those legs look good enough to wrap around me real tight,” one calls out.

You freeze, feeling your heart rate pick up.

“Don’t be shy, we just want to get to know you better,” another says as they swagger over.

You press back against the car, sizing up the situation. Four of them, all clearly well-off based on the expensive watches and designer clothes. But their eyes are cruel as they look you up and down.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?” The apparent ringleader asks. “Hoping to sink your claws into some rich guy and take him for all he’s worth?” The others laugh nastily.

You lift your chin. “Actually, I happen to work for Ferrari.”

The man snorts in disbelief. “Yeah right, and I’m Michael Schumacher. There’s no way a woman knows anything about these cars other than where the passenger seat is.”

You clench your fists, biting back a scathing retort. The thought of educating these misogynistic jerks gives you immense satisfaction, but you know it won’t do any good. They’ll never change their prejudiced attitudes.

“Don’t listen to him, darling,” one says, giving you a lecherous look. “I’d be happy to take you for a ride, show you how a real man handles power between his legs.”

You’re about to tell him exactly where he can shove his stereotypes when a familiar voice interrupts sharply.

“That’s enough.”

You look over to see Charles striding angrily toward you, green eyes blazing. The men surrounding you look irritated at having their fun spoiled.

“Can we help you with something, pal?” The ringleader asks sarcastically.

Charles ignores him, coming to stand protectively beside you. “Are you okay, mon amour?” He asks under his breath.

You nod, relief washing over you now that he’s here. “I’m fine.”

Charles turns an icy stare on the men who’d been harassing you. “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t speak to my girlfriend that way,” he says coldly.

The leader looks Charles up and down dismissively. But then a spark of recognition crosses his face. “Wait a minute … you’re Charles Leclerc!” He elbows his friends. “The Formula 1 driver!”

The others’ eyes widen as they take in Charles with new understanding. “Whoa, seriously?” One exclaims.

The leader chuckles, clearly trying to recover his bravado. “Well, what do you know? The famous racer has a pretty girl on his arm.” His lips curl in a smirk. “Hate to break it to you, but it’s obvious she’s just using you for your money. No way she knows anything about these cars other than how much they cost.”

Charles crosses his arms. “As it so happens, my girlfriend is an engineer for Scuderia Ferrari, so I’d bet my entire net worth — and my car collection — that she knows more about the cars in this dealership than all four of you combined and then some.”

You have to bite your lip to hide a smile at the dumbfounded looks on the men’s faces.

“An engineer?” One sputters. “You can’t be serious.”

You level a challenging stare at them. “Deadly serious. I’ve personally worked on over a dozen projects for Ferrari, including the SF90 Stradale hypercar we just launched.” You point across the showroom. “There’s one right over there, in fact. Mid-front mounted 4.0L twin-turbo V8, delivering 769 brake horsepower combined with three electric motors. First plug-in hybrid Ferrari ever put into full production.” You smirk at the slack-jawed stares your technical rundown elicits. “So yes, I’d say I know a thing or two about these cars.”

Charles grins proudly and squeezes your hand. But the leader is not ready to back down just yet.

“Anyone can memorize a monologue,” he scoffs. “I don’t buy it. You’re clearly just clinging to this guy for his money.”

Fury rises in your chest. You open your mouth to retaliate, but Charles beats you to it.

“That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about,” he snaps, green eyes blazing. “I’d be very careful with what you say next.”

The man smirks, crossing his bulky arms over his chest. “Or what, tough guy?”

Charles takes a step forward, jaw clenched. The man towers over him but Charles doesn’t flinch.

Right as it looks like things might get physical, you quickly take Charles’s arm. “He’s not worth it,” you murmur.

Charles hesitates, nostrils flaring. After a tense moment, he relaxes his stance and turns his back on the leering man.

But it seems the group isn’t done provoking you yet. “That’s right, listen to your sugar baby,” one of them calls out. “Wouldn’t want you messing up that pretty face for the cameras.”

Charles whips back around, shaking with anger now. Heart pounding, you cling to his arm in an effort to hold him back. “Charles, please-”

“No, Y/N.” He shakes off your hand, stalking toward the men. “I won’t stand here and let them insult you.”

You watch helplessly as Charles gets right in the leader’s face, nearly nose to nose. “You need to apologize. Now,” he grits out.

The man narrows his eyes. “Apologize? For what? Stating the obvious?” He smirks coldly. “Face it, your little girlfriend is nothing but a gold diggin-”

He doesn’t get to finish the sentence. With lightning speed, Charles’ fist connects squarely with his jaw. The man stumbles back with a pained shout, hand flying to his face.

“Charles!” You hurry to his side, alarmed. Charles is breathing hard, staring down at the man doubled over and groaning. The man’s friends back away nervously.

Chest heaving, Charles turns to you. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t listen to him insult you for another second.”

You meet his fiery gaze steadily. “It’s okay, I understand. Thank you for defending me.” After a beat, you add wryly, “And remind me not to get on your bad side.”

That startles a small laugh from Charles. The tension in his shoulders eases. He takes your hand, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss. “No chance of that, mon ange,” he murmurs. “You bring out the best in me.”

***

“Ow, ow, ow!” Charles hisses as he gingerly holds his right hand. His knuckles are bruised and bleeding.

You sigh, grabbing the first aid kit to tend to your dramatic boyfriend. “I told you not to punch him, Charles. You don’t know the first thing about throwing a proper punch.”

Charles pouts, wincing as you take his hand in yours to examine it. “I was just trying to defend your honor, mon amour. That man was saying such crude things about you.”

You shake your head, amused by his protectiveness. “My hero,” you tease. “Next time just walk away. I don’t need you breaking your hand over some entitled idiot’s comments.”

Charles hangs his head. “I know, I know. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I just saw red when he kept insulting you.”

You smile softly, touched by how much he cares. You start cleaning the wounds on his knuckles with a disinfectant wipe.

“Ow!” Charles cries out dramatically. “That stings!”

“Don’t be such a baby,” you chide. “It’s just a little antiseptic. I have to clean it so it doesn’t get infected.”

Charles pouts some more but stays still as you finish cleaning the abrasions. You apply an antibiotic ointment carefully before beginning to wrap his hand with a bandage.

“I really messed up my hand, didn’t I?” Charles mumbles dejectedly.

You nod. “You definitely did some damage. Nothing serious, but you’ll be sore for a while.”

Once you’ve wrapped his hand securely, you bring it to your lips and place a gentle kiss on the bandage. “There. All better.”

Charles gives you a lopsided smile. “My own personal nurse. How did I get so lucky?”

You grab an ice pack from the freezer and hand it to him. “Here, put this on your hand to help with the swelling and pain.”

Charles sighs dramatically but does as instructed, holding the ice pack gingerly against his injured hand.

You glance at his wrapped hand, the knuckles already starting to bruise beneath the bandage. “Does it hurt terribly?”

Charles considers the question. “Honestly? Yes, it really does. Punching someone is not as easy as it looks in the movies.”

You laugh. “No kidding. That’s why you leave the punching to trained fighters, not Formula 1 drivers.”

“Ugh, this is so embarrassing,” Charles mutters. “What will the team say when they find out I injured myself in a fight? And I’ll never hear the end of it from Pierre.”

You pat his leg reassuringly. “Just say you hurt it working out. No one has to know about your misguided attempt at honorable combat,” you tease.

Charles chuckles ruefully. “Good idea. The last thing I need is for this to become paddock gossip.”

You both sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, Charles icing his hand while you snuggle contentedly against him.

"Thank you for patching me up and taking such good care of me,” Charles gently brushes the hair from your face with his uninjured hand. “Even when I do stupid things."

You grin. “It’s a tough job but someone’s gotta do it. Especially since you did almost break your hand for me.”

You settle back against Charles comfortably. He may be reckless and impulsive at times, but you know he always has the best intentions at heart. And you'll always be there to care for him if those good intentions backfire.

For better or worse, this protective man is the love of your life.

[pseudowho]

Operation: Babymaker-- Wet Dreams

When it comes to trying for a baby, Nanami Kento always works overtime. And the reader had better be ready 💛

When the busy days and exhausted nights keep you and Kento apart, things get a little...creative 💛

💜 💛 Part 1 LINK HERE: A Trip to the Tailors

💜 💛 Part 2 LINK HERE: Benchpress

💜 💛 Part 3 LINK HERE: Ditch the Party...again

💜 💛 Part 5 LINK HERE: Honeytrap/Maid Café

Warnings: 18+ throughout, breeding kink, fertility/infertility discussion, somnophilia (m receiving and f receiving)

*PLEASE MOURN THE LOSS OF THE YELLOW TEXT OPTION WITH ME 💛*

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"I miss you. So much. I'm going to be home so late, I know it."

Kento could picture you now, leant against the wall, the heel of your palm pressed to your forehead, trying to massage away the impending headache. Eyes drifting closed, he sighed, craving you back home.

"I'll wait up for you," Kento assured, smiling as you sighed, feeling that soft breath whisper over his ear instead. You had been gone for days, and Kento had resisted every urge to stroke himself to the thought of you, knowing he should save himself for when you were home.

Images of all that cum, dripping from you, and being pushed back in with his fingers, and the sound of your voice, had his cock swelling embarrassingly fast. Picturing your disappointed face over the last two months, the small pile of negative pregnancy tests, he felt a competitive surge, a challenge. Kento shivered, jaw clenched, cracking his fingers in anticipation.

"And if I do fall asleep," he half-joked, wicked, "do feel free to have your way with me."

A giggle, a hushed moan ("Kento, stop-- you'll give me ideas"), making him twitch against his pyjamas. Kento reached down, trying to squeeze his cock into submission. Hand shaking, hooking himself out of his pyjamas to sit, hot and heavy, leaking onto the honey-blond hair of his belly, Kento begged, low and husky.

"Tell me more," he hummed, edging himself with no intention to finish, stroking his slit with one pre-cum wet thumb, "about those ideas."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You were right about being late home.

At 2am, you crept through the doorway, stripping all the way to the bathroom, moving seamlessly from front door to shower, finally feeling the grime of the day wash off you in glorious wet heat.

You heard soft snores from your bedroom as you stepped out, hair wrapped and drying. Reaching out to where you knew Kento had left his t-shirt for you-- clean, but with just enough him smell on it to make you feel deliciously his, your face softened at his sleeping form.

Half upright, propped on pillows, Kento's hands rested on a folded book across his chest, face sideways, warm and relaxed in his slumber. You crept over to him, needing to touch him, scratching your nails languidly through his sleep-mussed hair.

Kento groaned, his chest rumbling in his sleep, and you felt a stir of want in your belly to see his hips twitch upwards, as if he were between your legs in his dreams.

Biting your lip between your teeth, remembering your conversation on the phone, you ghosted your hand over Kento's bare navel. Scratching your fingers down his happy trail, you were delighted to see his belly twitch, his eyebrows pinching together.

Possessed, you climbed slowly onto the bed, your hips either side of Kento's knees as you reached into his bedside drawer, retrieving the little remote control vibrator he hid there.

"God, Kento, you're so beautiful," you whispered in the dark, lowering his pyjamas just enough to free him, soft in your hand, "you don't even know it."

Leaning forwards, lightly squeezing Kento's cock, you slipped the vibrator inside your underwear, sliding it between your rapidly wetting folds, switching it on. You hushed your own moan by opening your mouth, and sealing it around Kento's twitching cockhead.

His mouth had dropped open in his sleep, one hand slipped from his chest to fist at the duvet, a shivering gasp in the night. You let the spit collect in your mouth, tonguing his cockhead, wet and warm, sucking the blood to his length. Awash with the eroticism of him hardening, completely unaware, inside your mouth, you rolled your pussy against his legs, using the pressure to rock the vibrator against your clit.

You swiped your tongue around him, feeling him grow between your lips, his tip hitting deeper with each bob of your head around him. You tasted salty pre-cum, licking it down with a swallow, thrilled by his unadulterated twitches, gasps, and slow sandy moans.

Half-hard against the roof of your mouth, you released Kento, and he whimpered in protest, fucking himself up into your spit-wet hand. You were captivated by him, obsessed with the way his body reacted so viscerally; hips twitching, brows furrowed in anguished pleasure, pre-cum dripping out into your hand...

...you could have cum then and there, jerking him off faster and harder to have him spill in your hand. Instead, you slowed, stretching out your tongue to taste him again. Spitty, mewling around his length as you edged yourself with the vibrator humping against his legs, you moved your mouth fluidly as you pictured Kento awake, knuckles deep in your hair while he fucked your mouth.

Solid and throbbing in your mouth now, Kento panted, hair mussed, cheeks flushed as one hand fisted the duvet, and the other reached up behind him to squeeze the pillow, his fingers rolling over something absent mindedly in his dream.

"Is it me?" You whispered against him, painting your lips against his cockhead while Kento shuddered, "Is it me, in your hands? I hope so." You felt his thighs and back twitching rapidly, feeling his impending orgasm, desperate to feel full with him, desperate for the day you could finally surprise him with his morning coffee and two sweet blue lines--

Giving him one final lick as his hips bucked up towards you, you stripped your underwear, holding your vibrator in place as you held his cock upright, rubbing it against your entrance. Kento's gasps were shuddering and desperate now, words ghosting over his lips, his hands shaking, white-knuckle-clenching the sheets.

You quickly lowered yourself, taking his whole length in one smooth drop onto his hips.

"Oh fuck, Kento--" you mewled, not pulling him out at all, rocking him inside you and feeling his tip kiss your deepest walls, already fluttering around him and desperately close to orgasm, "-- feel so good-- so full-- cum inside me please please please--"

You begged him like this as you pleasured yourself on his cock, circling the vibrator over your clit in trembling little movements. Kento mumbled, your name on his lips, teeth gritted as his pleasure began to peak, lost in the wettest dream.

Rutting yourself down onto him, hips wiggling just a little harder to feel him in your belly, Kento grunted, euphoric and convulsing beneath you, and you encouraged it as you came with him, clamping down around him, lost in a blissful haze with his reflexive orgasm inside you.

"Fffuck.. that was amazing," you smiled to yourself, full of admiration to see Kento relax, marshmallow soft and slumped against the pillows. You pressed a kiss to his chest, slipping him out of you with a shiver, legs clamped together, snuggling yourself under his arm as you put his softening cock back into his pyjamas.

You fell asleep like this, ecstatic that you had shared your wicked little ideas with him before you got home.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Kento woke early, to the birdsong dawn and you, soft and snoring, under his arm. Wakefulness came to him slowly, unsure why he felt sticky inside his pyjamas, why there was a pair of your underwear on his belly, why the vibrator he liked to pin between your legs was now under the covers, pressed against his thigh--

All the puzzling couldn't stop the way his cock answered the question for him, that morning testosterone whoosh making it rock solid against his belly in seconds.

"What have you been up to, you dirty little minx?" Kento whispered, low and conspiratorial as he snaked one arm under your head and neck, the other lazily lifting your leg over his hips as he shucked his pyjamas down, kicking them off.

Kento's other hand grazed down the front of your body, moaning to feel your thighs and pussy, soaking wet and dripping with more than just your arousal.

"Did you fuck me while I slept?" He whispered against your ear, feeling your body squirm against him, far away in your lavender clouds, "How...presumptuous of you. I should rather have been awake." Kento's fingers dipped between your folds, sliding easily into your entrance, fingering you with his own cum. He groaned to feel your walls flutter around him, pressing three fingers into you as you mewled, twisting against him.

Kento laughed softly, deep and sleep-gruff, "Come now...you've had bigger than that," he teased, teeth clenched with the taboo thrill of using you while you slept, "and just a few hours ago, too...shall we fill you up some more?"

Kento was possessed, overtaken by the squelch of his fingers pistoning into your sloppy cunt, biting his lip with husky groans to feel you jolt and wiggle, whining against him. Adding his thumb over your puffy clit, tightening his arm over your neck and chest, Kento felt his cock leap against you as you sank your teeth into his arm, mewling in your sleep.

"Good girl," he encouraged, "we'll fill you up again, hmm? Have you all fucked-out and dripping, all tucked up in bed..." Kento moved his fingers faster, reaching as deeply as he could, pressing against your spongey sweet spot, "...and then I'll make you breakfast...and fuck you some more."

You cried out, twitching weakly as you came, wet and clenching around his hand, and Kento was so far gone, lost in how good you'd feel, all pliable and blissful in his arms. Locking your thigh over his hip, Kento began to push easily into you, clasping you against him with his other arm across your chest.

Feeling you, floppy and sleep-warm against him, had Kento biting into the back of your shoulder, nuzzling and nipping, resting his cock in your tight walls for just long enough to pull himself back from the edge.

"...haaah, darling-- too good...s'too good-- fuck, 'm not letting you out of bed today--"

Kento started to move within you, drunk on the wet drag of himself through you, moaning, shuddering into your neck. He kept this torturous pace, fast enough to feel you shiver with pleasure, and slow enough to keep you from waking.

Kento's hand roamed your body unashamedly; squeezing the soft pouch of your belly, trailing fingertips lazily along stretch marks and cellulite, the softness of your hair, the full plush of your breasts and thighs, rolling your nipples in a way that brought him faint, distant memories of his dreams that night.

Eyes closed, deep in the sensual little cocoon of your bed, Kento whispered dirty little thoughts to you, the sunlight warming his back, casting shadows on his hips as they rolled into you; "--send to you work tomorrow-- haaah, fuck-- cum dripping down your legs-- your panties in my pocket-- lock the staffroom door and-- and--shit--"

Hips stuttering, groaning and burying his nose into your soap-scented hair, Kento came, holding you by the belly as long spurts of seed painted your cervix white. Feeling you shuffle and whimper, Kento bit into you with a growl, instinctively trapping his cock inside you. Grunting as his cock twitched weakly, emptying him of the last few spurts of cum, Kento felt you twist your head towards him, sleepy as you nuzzled the side of his head.

"...mmmm...morning, gorgeous."

Receiving a fractured little groan and hot, fast pants in response, the rest of your body began to wake, and you wiggled with a smile to feel Kento's cock, warm inside you.

"...sorry," offered Kento, sheepish, "...couldn't resist." You giggled, accepting musty morning kisses from him as you pictured him the night before, fast asleep, irresistible, book folded open on his chest.

"I know what you mean. Want to go out for breakfast?" Kento groaned, eyes still closed as he manhandled you onto your back, pressing sloppy kisses onto your face as you giggled, being rocked from side to side.

"Another day," he begged, voice low and persuasive "you're too busy today-- got a baby to make."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

My pussy wrote this, and she hopes you liked it 💛

[drefear]

Imagine reader artist, who loves to draw Miguel. And the other day she's just drawing naked Miguel's body. He saw it and just smirks and say: "I've got bigger than that" or "I could show/pose for accuracy"

TW: raunchy smut, Dom!miguel, fem reader, smut with no plot.

A/N: I wrote half of this while at work and a little drunk. So here ya go. Also currently in the process of writing a part two.

Miguel’s face filled your sketchbook, his back in his spider suit, his mask, every angle you could find him at. You often sat in his office for hours while he did reports, sketching him and drawing him. You loved using different mediums and colors, giving him new features and styles. You specifically loved practicing drawing his broad body and sculpted as-

Ahem. Legs.

Yes, ok, fine, you had a small crush on your boss, whatever, no big deal.

You would purposefully finish all of your work as fast as possible so you could sit back and draw him. And because you weren’t loud or annoying, and everything was always done on time and orderly, he let you.

But one mission in particular made him stressed out, and as you watched him filling out data about the anomaly he’d just captured, he glitched his suit down his torso and injected himself with that mysterious green liquid, entrancing you for those glorious few seconds.

It was very obvious he had a nice body, duh. But you never let your mind go too far in imagining him out of his suit, scared to go into a territory you couldn’t back out of.

And now you did, drawing his torso and pecks, shading his abs, and this got you curious about more.

Lower.

Biting your lip, you sat in the cafeteria a few days later. You purposefully sat with your back to a wall, making sure no one could sneak up on you and see what you were drawing, as you drew him laying down. His arms splayed behind his head, face relaxed, as you defined his leg muscles. As you finished the piece of art, the only area you’d avoided was his groin.

And now you stared at the empty area of art, knee bouncing from anxiety about how you were supposed to draw this. You had no reference for him. Yes, you’d seen dicks before, obviously. You lived in a universe with unrestricted internet access, so it’s not like you’d never been around the block, but here you were, blushing like a 15 year old just because of a dick.

Drawing and then erasing and drawing, you repeated the process a few times before you heard someone click their tongue in front of you. You’d been so consumed by what you were doing, you didn’t even feel your spider senses or hear them come close.

Miguel stood with an eyebrow raised and his hands on his hips, eyeing you curiously. “Why are you so jumpy?” He asked and you snatched the book in front of you to your chest, stuttering some bullshit answer about too much caffeine. He just nodded and continued giving you a new order.

You got up from your seat and moved to follow him to his cold, dark lair area. As you were about to step onto his platform, you tripped and your hands flew out to stabilize your fall. As you did, the notebook flew across the floor and slid as your vision blurred from how fast you’d collapsed, getting up slowly and rolling your shoulders. You reached to where the sketch book had fallen, but it was no longer there.

No.

NO.

It was between his fingers, as he flipped through the pages slowly, eyeing your work with his brows furrowed, focused. You jumped towards him and he just turned his back, making you feel like you ran into a wall. You reached around him and he webbed your wrist to the table beside you, still not tearing his eyes from your work.

“Stop, that’s private! Give it back!” You shouted and he rolled his eyes briefly.

“It’s all drawings of me, I think I’m allowed to see-“ and his words stopped as he flipped to the newest page.

The nude drawing of him.

You gulped as his expression became unreadable, stoic, and your eyes flashed between the art and him. “I-I was just practicing forms and poses-“

“It’s… inaccurate.” He spoke lowly before your eyes blinked for a moment, confused.

“What do you mean?”

He walked to you and stood tall, bending down slightly to stare directly into your eyes. His mouth turned up at the ends and his eyes glittered with something you’d never seen in him before.

Turning the book back to you and showing you your own drawing, he smirked deeper.

“I’m much bigger.” His eyes were almost challenging you, making your blood run ice cold, and you felt his hands yank your body against his. “Do you want to see for reference?”

And then his watch made a loud sound, Lyla popping up to explain some anomaly on earth number whatever. He groaned and turned to walk out. “I’ll be back once this is done. Don’t go anywhere because When I do return, we’re continuing where we left off.”

Then he was gone and you stood, mouth agape from the whole exchange. You thought it might take a while for him to capture this anomaly, so You’d decided to go back to your own universe in preparation, showering and fixing yourself up. You bit your nail nervously as you thought about it all. Was he serious? No way, right…?

As you stood in the bathroom mirror, the sound of a portal opening cut through your mind like a knife, making your body rush into your living room. You gripped the towel tight around your torso as you saw Miguel walk out of the colorful dimension behind him and into yours. The portal closed and with that, his mask disintegrated so you could see his face. A bit tired, he still had a less-than-enthusiastic expression on.

“I thought I told you not to go anywhere.” He repeated and you stood stuff as a board, now a bit scared. He took slow, calculated steps towards you as your head tilted back to continue watching him. “Inaccurate and disobedient. I have a lot to teach you, don’t I?” His index finger hooked under your chin as he smirked and grabbed your hand with his free one, pulling you into your bathroom. He looked around for a second before hitting a button on his watch and letting the fabric disappear.

You bit your lip as your eyes took full advantage of his exposed skin. “You- it-“

“Yeah. I know.” He grabbed your wrist and spun you around, bending you over your counter with your hand breached against your back. “Now I want you to really study how I fuck you, so that you get a good look at how big I am, and how easy I can maneuver this body.” He whispered into your damp hair and pushed down, then ripping the towel away and throwing it out of the bathroom completely.

His eyes stared down at your weeping cunt and he licked his lips. “I’ll be tasting you another time. Today, I want you to really feel my size.” He was cocky, and he had a right to be. His dick was huge, almost alarmingly big.

The tip of his cock pressed against your entrance and you clenched your jaw. “It’s gonna hurt, but I’ll go slow. That way you can feel good and still learn.” He cooed in a teasing tone and your eyes found his in the mirror, watching intently as he began to push into you. The sudden width he was stretching you to was mind numbing and your knees began to buckle, but he just held you up with one hand, the other still guiding himself into you.

“Coño, your sucking me in so nicely, might not even need to slow down.” He spoke and your eyes were rolling back from his words, to which you snapped out of once his hand that was holding you up held your face harshly towards the mirror. “No slacking, little girl. You better keep your eyes on my cock.”

Halfway inside, and you were already fluttering around him, on the verge of orgasm. “That’s it, sucia, cum on my cock. It’ll be the first time of many.” You shivered at his words, feeling him sink in further and immediately orgasming. The rolls of pleasure washing through you made him grunt as his hips couldn’t help but rut into you harshly. The lack of prep had you feeling everything he was giving you, hyper aware of your insides wrapping around him.

“Mm, wanna fuck me back? Grind back onto my cock? Paciencia, Nena.” He instructed as you kept trying to get him in further. Wrapping a hand around your torso, he tweeked at your nipples and made you gasp from the sensation. “That’s it,” he mumbled.

Finally, smirked, he chuckled darkly as you tried once more to thrust backwards. “Fine, you asked for it.” He met your eyes in the mirror, now blood red and swirling with the threat as he snapped his hips forward and forced the rest of him into you, making you gargle out a strained sound in shock and pleasure. The pain was beautiful, and began to subside quickly as you felt him twitch. He hit every spot and more, feeling new depths and points of pleasure.

Tears welled in the corners of your eyes as he started a slightly faster pace. Your body jiggled from the movements and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled your apartment, your mouth hanging open as your eyes never left were his dick was buried into you. He smiled, enjoying the way you watched his cock disappear into you over and over, and you felt the pressure building once more. How he bullied your cunt and grinned while doing it made you burst, tears breaking free and a scream ripping through you as your pussy squeezed him.

“Fuck, so tight.” He groaned, head now falling back and he kept going, beginning to chase his own high. Your mind had shut off now, fucked practically stupid on his cock and he rocking into you mercilessly. His speed was unmatched and he moved to pick up your hips to meet his, closing the gap your height difference had created, and finally having him slam into you until his hips met your ass, making you choke on your own oxygen from the absolute brutal beating he was giving your cervix.

He slid one hand to the back of your neck and pressed you further into the counter top of your sink, forcing your pert nipples to meet the cold marble and you cried out more, barely able to push back against him now as you were trapped between his body and your bathroom’s confinements with only your top toes touching the floor. Your face was streaked with tears as he grunted and let out ragged breaths.

“The perfect little pussy, so perfect for my cock. You can take it, little artist. You wanted to draw my cock so badly, now you have the perfect image to do it. Fucked deep inside of you. Draw us like this for me, yeah? I wanna see it everyday. Or should I just fuck you every day instead?” His words tumbled from his mouth like an avalanche and you could feel his cock about to burst, making you teeter over that cliff as well. “That’s it, strangle my cock. Cum all over me, niña, paint me with your cute cunt.” He demanded and you obliged, feeling a shooting electric sensation rip out of you. Suddenly, you were both a bit wet between the thighs and he was mesmerized by what he saw. Your juices squirt all over him and he came instantly after seeing that, pounding into you as far as he could and forcing his cum the deepest it could be inside of you.

Both of you were unmoving as you caught your breath, a layer of sweat covering you both as you stared at each other in the mirror. No words could describe what had just happened and Miguel smiled once more, which prompted you to ask.

“What?”

“You need to get a mirror by your bed. Because I want to do this to you every day.” He watched your eyes widen in the mirror in front of you both as he licked your neck from behind and sinking his fangs into your soft skin, jutting his hips once more and making you realize he was still hard.

“For art purposes.”

Part two is out!

[planete777]

I WANT YOU BAD・⁠｡♪ LN4

( lando norris x fem!reader )

IN WHICH. y/n (and a good joint) is lando's best distraction. (based on this ask)

WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI!, drug use (as per), unprotected p in v, riding, lordddd they are filty, dirty talk, squirting, high hotness pt 345345, lando is in love with the reader (as per pt. 2), guys it's just filth filth filth

NOTE. yoohoooo im soo back!!! first fic release after like 3 months haha.... but it's high!lando so, forgive me plz 😔🙏 anyways, i'm slowly getting back into the groove of writing (i only wrote a tad bit during my break smh) and im sorry if im a bit rusty. hopefully, its only up from here. enjoy my dearest readers, and feedback is always welcomed <3

SIDENOTE. my askbox is open! feel free to send in any thoughts, scenarios, requests etc for lando 🤍

there's a gentle, warm thrum that bubbles beneath lando's skin, like a premise of excitement, tendrils of smoke tearing and stitching sentience with sluggish countenance. doesn't see a thing beyond a feet before him, and can't feel anything (yet feels everything) sauf the familiar radiation of body heat from the girl pressed limply into him.

two things for the price of one, it barely gets better than this. he feels like a magic act, cartoonish smears of smoke coalescing, then dimming as he inhales and exhales and inhales again. every taut stress from the day slowly flakes off his muscles, and succeeding another drag of the joint, he lets a gentle sigh huff out of him.

"better now?"

y/n's voice sounds like soft lace in his ears, and she snuggles closer into his shoulder, hand splayed, and weighty, upon his chest. she feels completely dead, always getting too high too fast, but never lets the warnings rid her of the euphoria. lando knows that, and can't blame her either; there's something unequivocally beautiful about getting high and losing the ability to connect one thought to another.

he shifts- he thinks he does so- rolling the spliff between his fingers before curling his lips to push out the smoke that began to scratch striations into his throat.

"yeah," he drawls out, "never go wrong with a good spliff."

y/n just barely giggles, palm rubbing up and down lando's chest. he swears he's on fucking fire, neurones charging and buzzing and crackling at every heightened numbness, and all he can do is take another drag.

there's a blanket of silence, comfortable and observing, before lando feels her, wantonly, drag her hand over his crotch then squeezes; and, jesus fucking christ, the moan that's punched out of him is ungodly.

"y/n- fucking hell," he leaves it at that, slowly swivelling his head towards her. she's smiling, largely and so gorgeously that lando feels like he's levitating. why is she looking at him like that?

"wanna fuck you, lan'," she whispers, redundant because it's already so damningly filthy, "make you lose your shit."

lando is struck speechless and completely horny, blood swelling his cock to where it edges pain, but god, does it feel so fucking good that all he can do is moan and tighten his grip on y/n's thigh sprawled across his body.

she smirks, sitting upright and slides to straddle lando, hips grinding heavily into his and the pressure is glorious.

"you like that, huh?" she bites her lower lip and presses harder, lando's head lolling to the backrest of the armchair. he could cum right into his pants if his motive wasn't to do it deep into y/n's cunt instead.

"you know i do, baby," he takes another drag, doesn't know how he musters the effort to, "you riding me is a sight."

she giggles, "just staring at my tits as i'm doing so, you fucker."

lando shakes his head, "nah, i meant all of you, baby. so beautiful," then he's smiling and pulling her into a kiss that's just tongue and want, lando gripping a hand around her nape. he can die like this, he thinks, encompassed in the feeling of a throbbing dick and a sloppy, wet mouth— all of it.

y/n curls her fingers around the hem of his joggers, lifting her hips- their lips still attached- and sliding them down his thighs. cool air caresses his cock, pulsating, weeping and redder than she's ever seen it before, lando moaning at the relief as it slaps against his abdomen.

"oh lan' look at you," she whispers, wrapping her hand around his cock (the way he squirms at that is indescribable), "you need my pussy that bad?"

it's all faux concern, but it does the trick, lando nodding and on the verge of sobbing when she clenches her fist.

"come on- fuck me, y/n," he's whining and squirming, hands grabbing at her shorts to tug it off after wedging the joint between his lips. she stands up, lando's hands trailing away as she goes to slide them off, crumpling at her feet. and all lando thinks is mylovemylovemylove. his skin burns like he's being dipped in lava, yanking his shirt off and throwing it to the ground.

the girl wastes no time crawling back into his lap, hovering over his erect cock as she takes both hands, spreads her cheeks and sheaths him in.

"y/n- ohh fuckkk-"

the slide— it's so so good, lando's losing his mind, he wants to ask 'no prep?' but fuck, she's taking him so well that he just shuts off. he pants roughly, eyes squeezing shut as she whines and bottoms out, feeling deeper than he has ever been. he's tingling everywhere, a shaking a hand plucking his spliff out of his mouth and unto the couch, feeling y/n's tight, hot pussy grip him with every inch of its life. and just when he thinks it's nearly too much, she starts to move.

y/n grinds and bounces like a fucking pornstar, shirt and bra she had on a few minutes ago strewn somewhere in the room, tits jumping and nipples swollen. oh, it's such a view and as much as lando wants to keep watching, a spark of pleasure causes his eyes to hurl to the back of his head, body flushed deeply and mouth slackened as it leaks a thick moan.

"your cock, lan'- shit, i'm gonna cum so hard," y/n's voice sounds so ruined and lando is obsessed with it, eyes opening as he gives her a small smirk. hands run all over her body- her legs, her breasts- before settling on her ass and languidly dragging it up and down his cock. y/n's reaction is immediate, trembling and crying out a high pitched moan that almost has lando cumming right there.

"i want you to cum so hard, baby. this is your cock," he huffs, hips thrusting upwards and slapping against y/n's ass. the sounds make his mind go static; it's so filthily good, skin hitting skin.

y/n smashes her lips against lando's as she works her hips harder, feeling the cold metal of his chain bind to chest. they can barely kiss, panting into each other's mouth- then lando's cock stabs her g spot, hard, and she's screaming and cumming, liquid running between her thighs and cunt squeezing lando so damn tight, he's pushing her hips into his, yelping, and spurting cum, thick and warm, into y/n.

"fuck fuck fuck- oh god baby, just like that," lando speaks into her skin, "just like that."

he rolls his hips to ride out their highs, pleasure setting deep in his veins before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her towards him, leaning back.

"fuck, i love you," lando whispers, pressing kisses into her shoulder.

"even when i squirt all over you?"

lando smirks, placing a kiss on her lips, "especially when you squirt, baby.

[wileys-russo]

off limits (6) II a.putellas x león!reader

part one part two part three part four part five

off limits (6) II a.putellas x león!reader

"ale where are we going?" you laughed, leaning back into your seat more as your girlfriend sped down the highway. "stop asking me princesa, it is a surprise!" was all you got in return alongside a toothy grin as barcelona raced past her window in a blur.

you adored when alexia was in moods like this; so jovial and free spirited, lowering her stern serious facade and allowing a more bubbly and playful one to shine through.

as a friend, team mate, role model, footballer, sister, captain, lover she had many sides to her and you'd argue till you were blue in the face that some of those she reserved only for when it was the two of you, such as the childlike joy which currently oozed from her.

you'd only been back from training long enough to shower and change before she'd cornered you in her living room, grabbing your hand, twirling you and kissing her way softly up your arm, informing the two of you were to now go for a drive together.

you hadn't questioned it, well you hardly had time to before the taller girl had thrown you over her shoulder and smacked your ass, stating you needed warmer clothes as she tossed you down on her bed.

she'd shut up your questions then by throwing herself on top of you with a grin and peppering your face with kisses, biting your cheek playfully and murmuring in catalan that all would be revealed soon enough.

your heart soared to see her so carefree and happy that afternoon, the two of you bundling up a little more and leaving her apartment hand in hand. unable to show much affection all day you were both admittedly touch starved, making sure at all times that at least a centimeter of your skin pressed against the others.

alexia going as far as to challenge you to a race once you entered the carpark the two of you sprinted off laughing like children as you beat her there, rewarded by her pressing you against the vehicle and kissing you so hard it had stole the air from your lungs.

now as the two of you drove away to an unknown final destination you looked at her with a soft smile and hopelessly lovesick gaze.

her ever alluring and warm hazel orbs stayed hidden behind her most favorite pair of sunglasses. you once teased she liked them more than you when she'd tackled your sister to the ground to get them back as mapi stole them off her head after training one afternoon.

no one but the two of you knowing the truth behind your relationship at that stage you'd left separately, quickly meeting up at your apartment where you'd taken your turn to steal her glasses. the taller girl chasing you around and around till she'd finally caught and taken you down to the floor as well, your combined laughters filling the cosy atmosphere of her apartment.

grinning up at her you'd simply slipped the sunglasses on and pulled her down into a passionate kiss, pretending not to notice how eager she still was to take them off your eyes and hide them away in her pocket, not breaking the kiss for even a second as she did.

now back to your pining stare toward her in the drivers seat her pink hair fell down her shoulders in gentle waves, gradually fading back to blonde with each wash much to your insistent bothering that she should dye it pink again, but you knew you were fighting a losing battle.

the top of her head was tucked away beneath a black beanie, loose strands of hair whipping around in the wind from where her window was wound down. the late afternoon sun was glorious and bathed her in its golden glow, highlighting her tanned sun kissed skin and sharp jawline which as far as you were concerned could have been carved by the gods themselves.

her plump pink lips stayed curled into a cheeky grin, white pearly teeth flashing out at you as one hand stayed on your thigh and the other gripped the steering wheel.

at alexia's insistence you had on matching nike hoodies, hers a pale pink and yours a mint green, the midfielder ignoring your teasings about how cute it was that she wanted you two to match, shutting you up with a loving kiss.

"take a picture, it will last longer than staring at me bebita." the older girl smirked, her laughter bouncing around the car before being snatched away in the wind as you grabbed your phone and did exactly that.

"i am not staring, i am admiring my beautiful girlfriend." you retorted happily seeing a slight blush creep up her neck at your words, her eyes darting off the road for just a fleeting second to look at you, shining with a type of tender adoration she'd not felt warm her heart before you had turned her world upside down.

"okay amor put this on por favor, but backwards so you cannot see anything." alexia reached down beside her and handed you a bright pink balaclava. "why do you have this?" you'd laughed so much your stomach hurt, clutching at your aching abdomen muscles.

"it is albas! just put it on before we get there, i told you it was a surprise and you are going to ruin it!" alexia whined with a playful grumpy pout. you rolled your eyes but did as she asked, your girlfriend waving her free hand in front of your face a few times to check you really couldn't see.

"if you are taking me somewhere to murder me i must warn you that i have not written you into my will yet so you will get nothing." you'd smirked beneath the soft fabric of the balaclava hearing a raspy chuckle beside you.

"if i was going to murder you cariño it would not be for your money, i have more than enough of my own." alexia shook her head in amusement as you felt her take a few turns, the road a little bumpier now.

"okay la reina sorry i forgot you could just sell one of your millions of trophies. how much is a ballon d'or worth on the black market? if i make it out of this alive maybe i will just rob you. i have a balaclava now they will never know it was me." you mocked her, squirming as she pinched your leg for the teasing.

"are we nearly there?" you groaned, starting to feel a little ill as the car turned and bumped and you stayed in the dark. "si niña bonita, soon." her fingers interlocked with yours, bringing the back of your hand up to her mouth and kissing it sweetly, repeating the tender gesture over and over until finally you heard gravel crunching and cracking under the tyres and felt the car still, engine cutting off.

she let go of your hand as her door opened and closed, still unable to see you jumped as yours suddenly opened next, your girlfriend reaching over to unbuckle you. "can i take this off now?" you asked, alexia grabbing your hand before you could.

"almost." she helped you up and out of your seat, arms locked around your torso and helping you to walk, steadying you as you tripped a few times, her lips kissing your neck apologetically.

"joder." you hissed quietly with a wince as suddenly she yanked off the balaclava and sunlight pierced your eyes. "sorry." she mumbled with another kiss to your cheek this time, still wrapped tightly around you as her chin came to rest on your shoulder.

"oh alexia." you smiled in surprise as your vision adjusted, the two of you stood at the lookout of turó de la rovira, a 360 degree view of barcelona greeting your eyes.

golden hour almost over and the sun starting to set the sky had turned a soft coral, streaks of bright orange and yellow dashed across it like god was painting the sky just for the two of you.

"do you like it?" your girlfriend mumbled, hugging you even tighter as you nodded. "i love it, its beautiful. i have not been here since i was little." your smile was nostalgic and soft, alexia melting at the look of awe and wonder on your face.

"buena hermosa." alexia sighed happily, your hands finding hers and intertwining, her arms still tightly encasing you as the two of you watched the sunset together in a peaceful and comfortable silence.

in that moment you were certain that you'd never felt more loved by someone. never more appreciated and tenderly adored than by the tall catalan hugging you tightly and lazily kissing your jaw, whispering soft confessions of just how much she adored you over and over in your ear.

never in that moment did you once think things between the two of you would end up how they had right here right now.

"my contract is up this year with barca ale, and i will not be renewing it."

sat across from her in the physio room you watched your ex lovers heart physically break as you delivered the final blow, unveiling a secret which had haunted you for longer than you dared to dwell on.

"what do you mean you are not renewing it? I-" alexia struggled to get out her words as you looked on, eyes swirling with a storm of guilt, relief, pity and empathy. "barca is your home. you cannot go somewhere else!" she forced out, fists balled by her sides.

"that is why i am here so late, i just had my final meeting with jonatan about it. the decision is made alexia, there is no going back now." your voice was firm though not unkind, despite what was going on between the two of you this news was not something you would ever use as a means to make her feel guilty.

"no no no por favor amor por favor." within a second she had wedged her body back between your legs, clasping your face in her hands, tears welling up in her eyes.

"it is done, the lawyers were there and everything." your voice was barely above a whisper as you squeezed your eyes tightly shut, unable to bring yourself to look into her broken ones any longer. your heart felt like someone was closing it in a tight fist as you heard her try to stifle back her tears.

"oh ale." you sighed, wrapping your arms around her neck as she moved to push her face into your shoulder, her hands tightly gripping your hips as if she could hold you to stay there forever.

you held her for as long as she needed, there was more you wanted to explain but you knew she needed time to process what you'd already said.

you weren't even sure if you'd processed it yourself. there was still six more weeks of active games in between breaks, and you would still be on the team for each one of those.

but the fact that after that this would no longer be your home, no more would you don the infamous red and blue colours of your team, surrounded by girls who you looked at like family, was a terrifying prospect you refused to think about just yet.

"sorry." alexia mumbled, pulling herself away and wiping her nose, the two of you letting go as she moved to sit back on the bench opposite you.

"where will you go?" she questioned quietly after she'd taken a moment to compose herself, embarrassment now joining the boiling pot of emotions bubbling up inside her. "that is the other thing." you exhaled deeply, shifting uncomfortably at the rest of your news as alexia frowned curiously.

"i won't." you started simply, fiddling with your hands in your lap. "i do not understand." alexia's frown deepened as you sighed again, forcing yourself to look away from the floor and back into her eyes.

"i am not moving to any other team ale, after this season i am retiring from football all together."

"que? why?" was all the older girl could manage to spit out, her head a spinning mess of questions and thoughts and feelings, all far too dizzying for her to make sense of any of it.

"because of me?" she followed up quietly, daring to allow her eyes to look at you for a moment before they moved to look at the wall beside your head. "not completely, i promise there is much more to it than that." you answered honestly.

"but what happened with us is a part of it." alexia stated more than questioned as you nodded, now the one to push yourself off the bench, moving to stand in front of her and gently grabbing her hands as she flinched momentarily in surprise.

"i love barcelona more than life. i love living here, i love that my friends and family are all here, i love how it has been playing football and a name for myself here, and I will always be a culer till the day I die-" you started softly, squeezing her hands to get the girl to look at you.

"-which is why i could never play for another team. but i would be lying if i said just because i love living here doesn’t mean it feels like home here anymore alexia, because you were a big part of that feeling and now you are gone from it." you forced out, hating the way her face fell at your words.

"i am not gone, i am right here!" alexia whispered desperately. "then why does it feel like you are so far away?" you smiled sadly, knowing your words would hurt her but needing her to hear them none the less.

"a part of me will always love you alexia. but that same part aches that as much as I love you, you are not mine to love anymore." you paused to take a shaky breath, hands still tightly holding onto hers.

"like i said i am so tired. i am so tired of fighting with you, arguing with my sister, feeling angry all the time is exhausting. and so is being unsure how to fix and mend relationships which mean so much to me, while still trying to get over how much it hurt for them to break in the first place." you poured your heart out honestly.

"football has always meant a lot to me but i need more, i crave something out of life that football can no longer give me. and i promise i was thinking about that before anything happened with us." you spoke sincerely, again not wanting her to blame herself for a decision that held a lot more meaning to you than you were currently able to explain.

"i hope that with some time and some distance to grow maybe we can be friends again one day ale, I know you will always be in my sisters life as her best friend and she will need you when i leave." you smiled, wiping away a stray tear which threatened to fall.

"you have not told her?" alexia asked, struggling to process what you were saying, struggling to breath as with each word you spoke the room seemed to feel smaller and smaller.

"no, not yet. and i am trusting you one last time not to tell her about this, not to tell anyone. i will tell them when i am ready and in my own way." you requested, again squeezing her hands gently in yours as she nodded.

"i cannot change your mind, can i?" she returned it with an equally sad smile of her own. "no, nobody can." you confirmed, letting go of her and taking a step back.

"but if barcelona is not your home anymore, then where do you plan to go?"

~

"hola." mapi looked up in surprise as you stood in front of her, already changed after training with your bag slung over your shoulder ready to go.

"hola hermana." your sister greeted slowly, taken aback by the casual nature of your approach, not having properly spoken to her for well over a week now.

"would you and ingrid want to come over for dinner?" you asked with a raised eyebrow, the norweigen sat a few lockers away glancing over hearing her voice, tapping aitana's leg signalling she was no longer listening as the girl spoke with her.

"tonight?" mapi asked, eyes wide in shock as your own rolled. "no next week. si maria, tonight." you replied much more curtly, tapping your foot impatiently when you didn't receive an answer.

"we will be there." ingrid answered you with a soft smile when her girlfriend didn't. "buena, come over whenever." you sent her a smile and shrugged then with that you were gone.

"estás bien mi amor?" ingrid moved to sit beside her girlfriend who seemed lost in her thoughts, mapi nodding that she was okay and bending down to continue lacing up her shoes as aitana handed ingrid her bag with a smile, wishing them both goodbye.

"see i told you, you just had to wait and to let her come to you."

~

dinner had been going as good as it could have been so far.

things were a little awkward and frosty at first, but with ingrid acting as a buffer you managed to settle into a much more comfortable conversation style.

you'd dished up dinner, grateful to have cooking it as a distraction as you encouraged your guests to do majority of the talking. the two planned to go to norway soon during international break as she had national team commitments.

they were going to see ingrids family and take a few days to themselves in between games finishing and needing to return to barca, and spent time telling you all about what they had planned to do and see there in the short while.

ingrid had of course extended the invitation for you to join them, your sister also eager for you to come. you'd met ingrids family before so you knew it would not be an issue, however you had already committed to malta and wouldn't put it past the younger putellas to track you down in another country to drag you there with her, having been texting you repeatedly about it.

so you waved off the invitation, grateful for it but making a series of jokes about not wanting to third wheel as you ate. though eventually you could no longer stomach the polite conversation and you knew you needed to come clean, the longer you avoided it the more nervous you'd become.

“ingrid, maria. I need to tell you something.” you blurted out much more abruptly and awkwardly than you'd intended. the entire plan you'd spent the afternoon creating all gone out the window, as had your prepared speech.

her smile dropped at the use of her full name, attention now entirely yours to command as you glanced at ingrid beside her who nodded to you to continue, seemingly just as concerned.

“i’m not renewing my contract with barca.” your voice was barely above a whisper but your words fell on your sisters ears like an anchor. you flinched as her cutlery fell to her plate with a loud clatter and she shot to her feet.

“what the hell do you mean you’re not-“ she started with a scowl leaning across the table, ingrid firmly squeezing her leg and giving her a pointed look, nodding to where you sat across from them staring down at the floor, anxiously playing with your fingers as you awaited her oncoming wave of rage.

swallowing the bitter anger and frustration which was rapidly bubbling to the surface knowing that was not what you needed right now, mapi took a deep breath and slowly sat back down.

“hey, look at me.” the girl ordered as you nervously glanced up to meet her eyes which to your shock were glazed over with worry. “what do you need from me hermana?” she asked softly, her reaction catching you a little off guard.

“not to hate me.” was all you managed to breathe out as you crumbled and the tears you’d been fighting off began to well up in your eyes.

your sister quickly moved around the table to sit by your side as you collapsed into her awaiting arms, tears wetting her collarbone as she cradled your head tightly.

“no I could never ever hate you niñita, never. I promise.” the older girl assured softly, murmuring it over and over as she held you tightly as you tried to calm yourself.

not wanting to overstep ingrid quickly gathered your empty plates, moving to the kitchen to wash them up and giving the two of you a moment of privacy.

you pulled away from her and wiped your eyes with your shirt, a little embarrassed at your emotions as ingrid returned, handing you a few tissues. "come, we need to talk about this." your sister encouraged, nodding for you to all move to the sofa.

"so you are leaving barca." she sighed a little as you nodded after you'd all settled in. "to where?" she asked the same questions alexia had. "not another team." you started, the confused faces staring back at you also mirroring that of your ex lovers.

so with a shaky inhale, you repeated the same words you had to her.

"retiring?" with that your sister could hold her tongue no more, once again shooting up to her feet.

"are you injured?" "no." "do you still like football?" "yes." "have you been told you need to stop playing? forced into this by someone?" "no."

"mierda i have just named all the possible reasons for retiring!" the tattooed spaniard snapped, ignoring ingrid who tried to reason with her.

"not mine." you replied calmly, the two words catching your sister off guard as she faltered for a second and fell quiet, slowly taking her seat again and wordlessly waving for you to speak as ingrid moved closer in an attempt to comfort her.

"i am not happy anymore." you started simply, moving to cross your legs underneath you and turning your body a little more to look at the couple sat a few feet away whose faces softened at your words.

"si, i like football. no, i am not injured or being told i cannot play anymore. but i no longer love football, i do not have ambitions to win awards or trophies or tournaments. i cannot represent my country anymore, i cannot continue to pretend like i feel the same when everyone speaks about these things." you began to explain, feeling lighter with each word you got off your chest.

"i have always done what you have. you played football in the backyard, i played football in the backyard. you played for the junior national teams, i played for the junior national teams. you played for barca, i played for barca. you stood up for the way we were being treated, and i stood beside you." you recounted, the look on your sisters face not easy to decipher what she was thinking, though she remained quiet and allowed you to continue.

"but now, now i need to figure out what i want and what i need and what i love. barcelona does not feel like home anymore and it will always be so special to be but i need more." you sighed, rubbing your face with your hands and taking a pause to reset.

"i need to feel like i am giving more, doing more, like whatever i leave behind is worth something. i just want more from life." you sighed, struggling with your words as to not undermine anything or anyone.

"this has been the hardest decision i have ever made. all i know is football, all i am associated with is football, all i know i am good at is football and that is no longer good enough for me anymore." your voice broke slightly and you wavered, taking a deep breath.

"it hurts more than i can explain and i am terrified but i am also just so tired. i am tired of fighting with alexia, i am tired of feeling like i need to walk on eggshells around the two of you. i am tired of worrying about injuries or playing well or not playing well. so si, i will play the rest of of this season with barca and then i will retire, everything was made official today." you rambled on, stopping yourself before you could spiral any further and falling silent.

the couple shared a few looks as if speaking without words which made your stomach knot up again with nerves, anxious for what they would both have to say about it as they gave one another a small nod and turned back to you.

"okay." your sister started softly, a small frown creasing into your eyebrows. "you're not mad?" you asked, still apprehensive for her reaction. "no hermanita, how could i be mad at the cost of your happiness? i am disappointed that the fierce barca legacy of the león sisters is no more, but that is only on the pitch." she started with a smile.

"i am not mad but i am worried about you, why did you not come and speak to me about it? about any of this?" she asked, her hurt disguised in her voice but not in the glint of her eyes.

"actually after everything i can see why, and that is my fault." mapi quickly corrected, forcing a pained smile.

"i am so sorry for not being a better sister or making you feel like you could come to me about this and about your relationship with ale. i have blown up a big part of your life and i will never stand in the way of you trying to start a new one again." your sister promised sincerely as you nodded.

"if not barcelona anymore, where will you go?" ingrid finally spoke, sending you a kind smile as she grabbed her girlfriends hand. "i am going to volunteer with the united nations. they have a six month program that sends you around the world wherever aid or help is needed." you answered, both older girls across from you with wide eyes at your words.

"wow." mapi breathed out. "how did you-"

"alba helped me. she has a friend who heads the recruitment, got me in touch and put in a good word. i actually only heard back yesterday with an offer for a spot." you responded somewhat shyly, still trying to wrap your head around the opportunity.

you didn't have time to say another word, two bodies launching at you and wrapping you tightly in a hug as your sister kissed your cheek repeatedly mumbling about how proud she was of you.

"bueno bueno! thank you for the support but get off." you laughed, unable to even begin to describe the sense of relief at the weight which was melting off your shoulders finally having come clean, and it having gone a lot better than you worried.

"have you told mami? or the team? or your-" "si, mami knows. alba knows. alexia knows. the barca staff know. but i am not ready to tell the team just yet, por favor." you pleaded, both girls assuring they would not tell.

"so you spoke with alexia then?" ingrid asked cautiously, unsure if this was something you'd wish to speak about. "yes. we had an....honest conversation." you sighed, settling back into the sofa.

"the two of you..." mapi trailed off now, also with an air of caution not wanting to overstep. "no. i do not know what could be done to fix things now, the damage is done and it is there and it still hurts. but with some time apart, maybe we could become friends again." you forced a smile, trying to remain optimistic despite the dull thumping ache in your chest any time you thought about the blonde.

"okay hermana. are you still going to go to malta? pina mentioned alba convinced you to go, and we know alexia is also still going." your sister asked with a raised eyebrow, the two of them not going as norway had two games to play during the break which mapi planned to go and support ingrid at.

"yes, we still have the rest of the season to go and i do not want to have to keep arguing and avoiding her. i think after our talk we have a sort of, understanding." you winced slightly, knowing no matter if you wanted to go on the trip or not alba would be forcing you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

part seven

i would like to lovingly remind you all before you implode that this is not yet the endddd, we still have at least one, maybe two, chapters left to go

[teddybeartoji]

彡 A THUNDERING FIRST

☆. contains: suguru geto x gn!reader; meet-cute, fluff, trigger warning for a sweaty suguru, double warning for a very flirty suguru!! mentions of teeth and biting bc yk i love that shit wc: 4k

reading in the park can be such a good way to spend the day – you get to hear the lovely little birds sing to each other, you can see the kids faceplant onto the ground and laugh it off, you can smile at passing dogs, you can feel the sun and you can feel the wind and for just a while – everything is good.

it's more windy today than it is sunny but that doesn't bother you too much. the gentle spring wind dances in the trees, swaying the tiny green leaves that are just beginning to grow. the ground is still wet from yesterday's rain but it's not too muddy. you're grateful for the shower anyway, excited for the fresh grass to rise from the soil, pretty flowers alongside it. everything smells good, too. the air is crisp and filled with new beginnings and laughter and now you feel yourself getting a little too poetic.

looking down at your book, you twirl your pen between your fingers as you try to bring your focus back to the words on the pages. okay, reading in the park can be a little distracting sometimes. but most of the time it's not that bad—

you raise your head from your lap when you hear the steady steps and it's weird because you've learned to not give your attention to every passerby.

but this isn't just some passerby. the soles of his feet dig into the ground as he approaches and something about him just pulls you to him. you only have a second to look at him before he passes but it's enough to peak your interest like nothing else.

a pair of dark grey shorts with some black underpants underneath them, a pair of surprisingly clean sneakers on his feet, a pair of black socks, a dark blue almost skin-tight jacket and a black cap are what pull on your ropes but the messy black bun that peeks from under the cap, the various piercings and the dark purple eyes are what tie the knot.

his phone is in a little make-shift bag that surrounds his very big and glorious bicep and he has earphones on. you've never been this observant with a stranger before.

right when he passes by you, his eyes flick down to yours for a fraction of a second and then he's already gone. steady pace and steady steps as he heads down the path in the park, leaving you longing behind him.

you shake your head and once again, try to focus back on your reading. but it's even harder now that you know a man like that is just jogging around the place. you eye him from a distance away, wiping his sweat as he passes another runner. you've never seen anyone run as gracefully as he does. you force your eyes from him and glue them to the pages that lay neglected in your lap.

around eleven minutes later, you hear him again. you just know it's him by the sound of his steps, by the sound of his shoes hitting the ground – you look up and find him already looking at you as he closes in on you. there's a slight flush to his face, beads of sweat rolling from his temple and he looks gorgeous. he gives you a small smile, a really fucking charming one, and jogs on, leaving you staring at him again.

he does glance back at you, though. when he's a minute away and just when the path turns back around, his eyes search for you over the field of trees. his lips pull into a smirk when your head raises toward him and you drop it the second your eyes meet from far away. cute.

another ten minutes have passed and you've reread the same page four times now. the thought of quitting on the book is heavy on your mind as you consider just focusing on the man instead. it feels silly – stealing glances at a random crush at a park but you can't help it. he has wooed you with just about nothing; you don't know nothing about him other than the facts that 1. he's ridiculously good-looking and 2. he's a really fucking good runner. the lap he seems to be doing is one of the biggest ones in the park and yet he seems to be completing it in record time. maybe it's those long legs of his?

you twist and twirl the pen again until it slips from you, rolling onto the ground. you curse under your breath and then you hear him again. scrambling from your spot, you hastily grab the pen – a little afraid to be in his way; scared to embarrass yourself in front of him.

he's a bit more flushed this time around, sweatier and sexier. he exudes confidence; like not the type to be an annoying fuck-boy but more of a dangerous one. the type to break your heart like it's nothing but a glass toy. but then he gives you another smile and the thoughts fades. his smile is soft and his eyes crinkle as he does so. he nods his head at you and you do it back – you reckon you're really getting somewhere here. is this flirting works?

you watch him run off and almost die when he glances over his shoulder to get another look at you. a blink and you would've missed it – a wolfish grin; wide and sharp, it merely flashes at you but when you squint your eyes to observe him closer, he's already too far again.

your heart is beating way too fast for a person that's literally sitting down and your hands feel clammy. damn. luckily, you have the wind to help you cool down as you try to think of a plan to get his attention. you'd offer him water but that's a bit too far from a complete stranger. you'd ask him— what would you ask him? how's the run? no, that's bad. how's the weather? horrible. what kind of music are you listening to? c'mon, you can do better than that. come here often? awful, just awful. you decide that you won't say anything – stopping his run for some small talk would just be awkward and you'd rather just keep looking at him. that's the safe bet, that's what you'll do.

he's back. he's on his fourth lap and he doesn't seem to be stopping any time soon. all self-respect has gone with the dancing wind as you blankly stare at the handsome stranger. the tips of his ears have grown red too and he's really panting now. he's just so— he slows down. his steps falter a few feet from you and your eyes widen. well, you didn't really consider the possibility of him starting the conversation. you check the name of your book to make sure you won't make a complete fool of yourself and repeat your own name in your head. there's no room to fuck up with a guy like him.

he glances down at his feet and your eyes follow. oh... his laces are undone. that's... disappointing. you're about to curse yourself for even thinking that he'd actually wanna talk to you but his silky smooth voice breaks your little bubble.

"may i?" his slender finger is pointing the bench your sitting on and you can't to open your mouth, humming an reply instead. his posture is extraordinaly as he walks to you and plops down a bit too close for a stranger (you most definitely do not mind).

it's quiet for a moment before he speaks up again. "what are you reading?"

you quietly thank yourself for checking the name and introduce it to the man beside you. even as he's tying his shoelaces, he has a strong presence. he keeps glancing at you from the corner of his eye, letting you know that he is in fact listening to you. when he's done he leans back against the bench and sprawls out his arms on the backrest; one of his is dangerously close to your shoulder but he'd never make that move this early. he just wants to make clear that he is as interested as you are. he lets his legs spread out a little wider, situating himself a bit more comfortably on the wooden bench and you stealthily pinch yourself for stealing a look at his strong thighs.

"you know, i thought about what to say but i couldn't come up with anything good... 'how's the run?' is pretty stupid, isn't it?" you ramble as you feel yourself melt under his gaze.

"you thought about what to say?"

...

"i– "

your head falls down to your chest as your whole body heats up – now you're actually afraid of melting away. you hide your burning face in your palms and you sigh. so much for not embarrasing yourself, huh? he in turn, lets his head fall back as he grins up at the sky. his lip piercing shines under the greyish light and his eyes fall shut as he basks in your flustered state.

when he feels like your cuteness meter is just about full - he lets you off the hook. "that's really sweet of you."

peeking from between your fingers, you look at him. his eyes peer from underneath his cap, and in a way, it's really adorable how you're both hiding your eyes from each other. maybe not even hiding, but just, sheltering them. gauging when to finally drop the act and let yourselves stare at each other freely just the way you actually want to.

"not totally embarrassing?" you joke, forcing down the nervousness and letting a smile sprout on your lips instead.

"not at all." he assures with his saccharine voice. you almost believe him.

"it's never a bad thing to be prepared." you've known him for mere minutes but you know he's teasing. the tease is smoothly hidden in his charismatic tone but it's there nonetheless. a bead of sweat rolls from his temple and he wipes it with the back of his hand.

you bite the inside of your cheek as you drop your hands but avert your gaze, turning to the trees for a boost of strength.

he'd never admit it but... he too had to think of a way. he too thought that it'd be too weird to just ask about your book – he had to think of a way to break the first barrier. so, he untied his laced before he reached you. but that's a secret.

"suguru."

you whip your head your back to him, surprised by his little introduction. you repeat his name out loud and it tastes like honey, the syllables falling from your lips like a sweet goo. he does the same with yours and you swear you've never heard anyone say it the way he just did. there's a purr to his voice, coming from deep inside his chest - each letter is given so much thought and care. accompanied by the determined look in his eyes – you're just grateful you're already sitting down; he has your knees feeling weak, the muscles in your body tensing as he shifts just a little closer. barely an inch but it's enough to speed up your heart even more, enough for your body temperature to be reaching a new high.

his hand reaches over and you follow it in slow motion; you can hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears as his fingertips graze your cheek. heat blooms from the touch and you feel like you're about to burst into a thousand little butterflies.

"you got a little something here..."

he takes notice of the warmth even though the contact lasted a fraction of a second – he's as observant as ever. his foxy eyes twinkle with a dose of smugness, a certain heat running through his body at the effects he seems to have on you.

pulling his hand back, he displays the single eyelash he just caught on his pointer finger right in front of your face. "c'mon, make a wish."

he watches your eyes flick from his finger to his eyes and then back down, he watches your brain work out your silly little wish. he thinks about what his would be and wonders whether you'd want the same.

you inhale sharply before blowing on his finger, letting the eyelash take flight and disappear with the wind. smiles bloom on your faces – the childish act bonding the two strangers forever.

"the run was good, by the way." he rests his hand back behind your shoulders, making you subconsciously lean closer. "the weather is good; i like this better. hard to focus when the sun is bearing down on you."

you nod your head, utterly bewitched by the man before you, and he knows it too. "'though it's hard to focus when i have you sitting here, too."

he has you hooked and he won't let you go. your eyes widen as his bore into you, absolutely feeding off of your every reaction.

"oh, you're killing me..."

"am i? i'm sorry for that, sweetheart."

you can't keep the groan that bubbles from the depths of your throat as you double over, hiding your face in your hands again. his quiet laughter rumbles through his chest and when you swear that when you raise your head, a singular sunray shines from behind the clouds. it lights up his smile, his eyes crinkling in the process. wow.

"when are you gonna come here again?"

there's no time to waste – you have to shoot your shot. you have to.

he lets the laughter die slowly, impressed by your sudden burst of confidence. "tomorrow."

"you run every day?" his ego grows in size at the surpised tone and he nods. "wait, how come i've never seen you before then?"

"maybe you were actually reading your book all those other times, hm?"

your heart does a little flip in your chest and you bite down into the soft flesh of your lip. he's sooooooooo...

he adjusts his hips on the bench and catches you looking. he's tempted to make another tease but—

"i would've definitely seen you if you were here. you're kind of hard to miss. very hard to miss actually."

he hides his reaction with a deep hum, infatuated with the fact that you can keep up with him so well despite your flustered state. "i just recently moved here, so... it'd actually be very nice to have somebody to show me around. the coffee would obviously be my treat, you know, if you're down for it, if you want to be that person for me."

his offer almost flies over your foggy head but his last words sink their claws into you at the last minute. the butterflies in your stomach are making you feel sick, a giddy nervousness swimming in your veins.

"i'd love to be that person for you." you nod your head, gluing your eyes to his as the final push to show you that you're as interested as he is. as if that wasn't clear enough already. "mainly for the the free coffee, though."

"right... right..." one of the corners of his lips is crooked upward and he looks so good. he looks like he bites, like he would sink his teeth into you so, oh, so gently and then lick the wound to make you all better again. you're really in it now.

unbeknownst to you – the sky has turned a shade darker, grey clouds now swarming the entirety of the field of blue above you and suddenly you feel a cold drop on your warm skin. and then another. and another. craning your neck up, you take in the foggy ceiling as the rain starts to soak your clothes.

you scramble to pack your bag, throwing your precious book in there before frantically looking for your pen only to have suguru hand it to you with a smile. "here."

"thank you."

you don't want to go. he doesn't want to go. the strap of your bag sits on your shoulder, the soles of your feet dig into the ground but nothing. you chew on your cheek and he picks at his fingernails – neither of you ready to part with each other just yet.

but thunder booms, yanking yourselves out of it. reminding that this chapter is only beginning and that the first page is always the shortest one anyway.

"you're gonna get a cold like this..."

"like what?" the water droplets cascade down his neck as he leans closer.

"oh, i don't know... sweaty and hot? what if the wind and the rain get to you and i don't get to have my free coffee, hm?"

he does want to bite you. his canines bite into his bottom lip as he observes you. how you're completely unfazed by the rain, how your confidence is clearly growing as you tempt him with your words.

"the wind and the rain have nothing on me, angel. i'd kill to get you that coffee." lightning strikes as his words fall from his tainted lips and he can't tear his eyes from you.

finally, he pushes himself off the bench and you watch him stretch his whole body like a big cat. an inch of skin shows itself from below his jacket, his happy trail making your eyes bulge before you clear your throat with a quiet cough and push yourself up aswell. making sure you have everything, you check your bag and your pockets and turn to him, only to find him already staring down at you. he's tall. he looked tall before too... but now that you're standing next to him – he's really fucking tall. and he seems to be thinking the same thing as he takes the oppurtunity to assert a little dominance by closing the distance between you.

"and maybe the rain will do you some good too... maybe it'll help you cool off, yeah?" there it is again – hidden by a tone of genuine advice – the tease. it slips from his curved lips with ease, with too much ease, and you hate that you can't even argue with him. you burn under his eyes and the rain is seemingly the only thing that's keeping you alive at this point.

"i think you should buy me so many coffees." you sigh, clutching onto your bag strap. he's towering over you, so you need just about anything and everything to keep your composure.

"yeah? what for?" he laughs. god, you love his laugh.

"for putting up with your teasing. i think i deserve a reward, honestly."

it looks like a scene out of a romantic little movie – the two lovers standing in the storm; fingers twitching beside their bodies, gazes lingering on each other for longer than they should. nobody would guess that this is your first meeting.

"terrible manners, by the way. i can't believe i'm still talking to you." you give him another sigh, albeit an overly dramatic one this time.

suguru hasn't been this beguiled since... ever probably. yes, his friends tend to give him snarky comments like this but it's entirely different coming from you. it gets his heart pumping like nothing else – the rush from the run has nothing on you.

"oh, my deepest apologies, your highness. shall i kiss thy hand before we part?"

his little bit coaxes out a loud cackle – his chest swells at the sweet melody, getting addicted already.

"yes! yes, i think you should do that, kind sir." your cheeks hurt from smiling when you hold your hand out for him, testing whether he'd actually do it.

(he's forcing down a full-body reaction at you calling him sir.)

suguru is not a man to back down and you're about to learn all about it. the thunder rumbles loudly, echoing through the park he takes your smaller hand into his bigger ones, raising it to his mouth. his purple eyes twinkle at you and your breaths are getting shorter and shorter. his lips graze your wet skin before he's fully pressing them against you, all while keeping eye contact with you.

a shiver runs up your back and you're about to pass out. or throw up. or die. something is happening to you and he's the sole reason behind it.

he lowers your hand and offers you another dangerous grin; his sharp teeth glint from behind his pretty lips as the lighting flashes again and you gulp.

"don't die on me now."

...

your jaw drops and you place your hands on your hips, tilting your chin up to show your 'annoyance'. "exactly what was the point of the kiss, if you plan on continuing your little act, hm, suguru?"

"the point is to get to kiss you again."

..................................

oh.

this stranger will be the death of you. your whole body flushes again, your own built up cockiness fades away, leaving you small and shivering before him. the perfect prey ready for picking.

"not today though. can't have the highness grow too big, now can i? but perhaps next time? over that promised coffee?" his voice is sticky and sweet, meant as a trap to catch little doves like you.

you squeak out a mhmm as he's already getting his phone from his little bag.

by now, you're both absolutely soaked. the spring thunder cleans you from the groggy winter feelings and thoughts and gives life to... whatever this is going to bloom into.

you exchange your socials, giggling at how the screens refuse to cooperate under the rain but you get it done nonetheless.

"please, don't get sick."

"if i do, you'd nurse me back to health though, wouldn't you?"

you slap his chest, unable to bear the teasing little remarks any longer. his charisma knows no bounds and it's 100% not what you expected him to be like. maybe you should've – the eyes betray him.

"probably, yeah. nurse you from this horrendeous act. where are you learning it from anyway? some terrible love coach?" you scoff.

"something like that yeah." he trails off, once again hypnotized by the way your wet eyelashes shine when you blink up at him.

"okay-okay, we have to stop this now or we'll both get sick." you shake your head, physically trying to remove every thought of him that has been swimming in your head for the past hour or so. he hums as a reply. he fixes the cap on his head and awaits for you to make the first move.

it's taking everything in you to do so – it's almost as if you're glued there, right in front of him and it just feels right. his voice is right, his words are right, his eyes are right, his lips, his teases; but when the thunder booms again, you know it in your guts that he's gonna be in your life for a long time.

this kind of turned into smth way different than i intended but i'm not mad hihihi

[0bticeo]

lurk | feyd-rautha

part one of five. (part 2.) (part 3.) (part 4.)

summary:

feyd-rautha. 

there he is, strong arms spread wide, dual blades stained black, basking in the glorious aftermath of combat. at his feet, atreides soldiers. dead.

you unsheathe your blade, the dull metal grinding against its sheath.

it is kill or be killed, and you intend to live.

wc: 2k

tw: blood. death. non graphic description of gore (this is a gladiator fight). mentions of eugenics. fighting as foreplay. reader may or may not have a blood kink. knife kink??? reader is more refined than feyd but don't let it fool you she's a freak. uuuh hubris? probable inaccurate handling of dune lore, esp with the voice (forgive me for the creative liberty of assuming the mother of the kwisatz haderach should be a freak. as a treat.)

many, many years ago, the sisterhood deems you ready for the gom jabbar. you enter the room, your mother a looming shadow, hands folded in her sleeves, head bowed before a long figure cloaked in shadows.

it doesn’t sit right with you, this intrusion in your mother’s parlor. how dare that old witch make a servant out of your mother in her own house?

“kneel.”

you do. you fall to your knees. before you, a phalto green box. in it, pain. at your neck, the gom jabbar, its deadly poison whispering into your ear.

it tells you about sweet, sweet little death. it tells you the reverend mother will not put your life in danger. not when you’re the culmination of nineteen generations of careful planning.

you are to be married to a harkonnen and bear the kwisatz haderach.

so you raise your head and put your hand in the box, eyes boring into the old crone’s. you see something flash in her depthless eyes. you think of the calm before mother-storms, the stillness of the air before pounding rain. 

it’s rage.

pain shoots through your hand. fire that burns and charrs and eats away at your flesh, consuming one layer of skin after another until you’re sure it reaches the bone below. you almost scream. instead, you bite your lip until metal-blood stains your tongue. 

you will endure this pain. you will not let fear consume you — you have nothing to fear, you shall not die, not here. fear is the mind killer. pain is the mind killer. you will let it wash over you and face the eons of bene gesserit knowledge standing before you.

through gritted teeth, you ask:

“am i human enough, oh wise one?”

you were. otherwise you wouldn’t be here, years later, rotting in a harkonnen cell. 

(there are things that have been kept a secret from you. you have been raised following your mother’s footsteps in the weirding way. the reverend mother denied you a place under her tutelage with harsh words and a harsher look. you’ve caught wind of her thoughts in shimmering fragments of dreams — what has jessica done?)

it will matter, in the end, that your mother decided to give your father a son. already, you’ve seen it, behind the web of your eyelids, the lone silhouette of your brother, blood of your blood, rising, rising.

he will gather them, the fremen, from the burning sands of arrakis, and rise, blade glinting under scorching sun. lisan al gaib, they already call him, hushed whispers lost in the shifting sands of dunes. 

your hand falls to your womb, empty still. 

they were scared, the bene gesserit. the atreides line was growing too powerful, too fast. you — the promised daughter, skilled in the way, with tongue and mind sharper than your blade — are to be bred and deliver the one.

but in came paul — beloved little mouse of a younger brother. too smart, too observant, too skilled, too much. your mother’s defiance, your mother’s love for your father led her to commit the unthinkable and defy the order.

it retaliated.

you’ve been betrayed. that, you’ve seen coming. so did your father. so did your mother. even your brother felt it, in his very bones, the low thrum of wrongness. something was bound to happen. something was bound to shake you to your very core. 

something happened.

the harkonnens came. house atreides fell. you can still smell it, the stench of death, the bloodied sands beneath your feet as you struck and struck.

all must die, and so they did.

you feel it still, the blood coating your hands, your forearms, dripping from your blade, the old scar on your forearm burning righteous fury. 

they caught you, in the end. you, who willingly put a target on your back, allowing your brother and mother’s quiet escape. you, beaten down, bloodied. grinning, voice warping the harkonnen rats’ perception.

“you will not see me as i am.”

the atreides have been set up. offering arrakis has been nothing but a convenient way for the emperor to get rid of your bloodline.

you scoff; in the quiet depths of your cell, your fingers dig crescent moons in your palms.

you’ve been taught to read behind veils upon veils of lies. the truthsayer suggested the eradication of your house. painted you a threat.

being able to breed the kwisatz haderach won’t protect you.

so here you are, eldest daughter of duke leto atreides and lady jessica, older sister to paul atreides. here you are, sitting with your back pressed up against the wall. cold seeps into your marrow, reaching bone. rage simmers low in your gut. you quell it. nurse it until it becomes a living beast eager to feast.

you will need it.

your body fails you. your sight is blurry, your hands tremble. they should not. duncan would have hit the back of your head had he been there. he isn’t. (dead.) breathe in. breathe out. focus what’s left of your attention on the too small bowl of food that’s been given to you, on the glass of water. empty, both of them. 

poison isn’t a problem — not with your training, not with the constant shifting and turning of lethal molecules within you. there. prana bindu — precise alteration of the body’s vitals. you will bear your condition for a time, weakened, but alive.

you clench your fist and slam it against the wall. pain surges through you, burning through your joint. good. if fear is the mind killer, pain clears the fog clogging your brain.

here goes: you’re rotting in the cell of your hereditary enemy, malnourished and poisoned. you’ve heard the guards, their off handed comments when they thought you too drugged to understand. your cell is below an arena. you will need to fight. perhaps, they’ll pit you against your men. the atreides house, dying by its own hand. fitting. 

you’re neck-deep in trouble.

the door slides open. two guards come in, all dressed in black. harkonnens. harkonnens everywhere, and you cannot do a damned thing as they pull you up, pushing you out of your cell. they’re laughing. those bastards are laughing.

one less atreides scum in the known universe — good riddance!

you will tear into them and rip out their spine with your teeth.

they drag you in a maze of hallways, each darker than the last. you’re ascending, a catabasis of twists and turns and sliding doors. there’s a low thrum in your gut. louder and louder with each step is a pulse. a chant. a name. 

the guards press a blade in your hand and push you forward.

the door slides up. shadows part. you blink with a low hiss. light pours down on you, all-consuming, blinding. sands stretch before you, unnaturally white.

the arena.

thousands upon thousands of people gaze down at you. the voice surges forward, eons of your foremother speaking through you.

“you will not perceive me as i am.”

something trickles down your nose. blood. you’ve overdone it. the voice isn’t meant to be used against that many people, not for long.

you wipe it off.

it will have to hold for the time of this fight. the harkonnen won’t rest until the atreides are completely and utterly wiped out. deceit is your only chance at survival.

the thought makes your blood boil. 

good thing the crowd is screaming for it. they're all screaming for it. a pulse. a chant. a name.

feyd-rautha. 

there he is, strong arms spread wide, dual blades stained black, basking in the glorious aftermath of combat. at his feet, atreides soldiers. dead.

you unsheathe your blade, the dull metal grinding against its sheath.

the noise alone has him turning towards you, head tilting to the side. he’s assessing you, na-baron feyd-rautha harkonnen. he glances up. for a split second, you follow his gaze. above, looking down upon you, is baron vladimir harkonnen, gargantuan mass of flesh.

you want him to collapse. to watch as his bones break under the weight of monstrous grease. you make out the movement of his lips.

happy birthday, nephew.

he’s on you before you can react. your blade raises. steel meets steel. you clench your teeth. his strength surpasses yours. you won’t yield, not to him. but by god is the bastard strong. you’ve got your hands full with just parrying his blows, the force of them echoing in your very bones. your feet slide on the sand below. any more and you’ll lose your footing.

his blades meet yours, again and again, their serrated edge slicing the corrupt air of the arena. they slice through you, too. a vicious cut on your bare forearm has you reeling back, your blade and sheath raising to parry.

this is bad. there’s only so much you can deal with in your decrepit state. fighting to survive isn’t an option — you must kill or be killed.

.

.

.

you draw in a sharp breath.  

watchful eyes bore down upon you. bene gesserit. the reverend mother herself has come to geidi prime.

something at your side — you let your guard down. there’s a flash, a metallic clang. feyd-rautha gazes down upon you, apex predator with your death written in the greedy sands of the arena. here, you’re precious prey. 

rage grips you by the throat and has you baring your teeth.

there you are, blades intertwined with harkonnen scum, a breath away from his lips. they part in a slow, assessing grin. you feel more than you see his appraising gaze raking over you. you, unyielding, matching him blow for blow, blood drip drip dripping down. under the black sun of geidi prime, it, too, has turned a velvety black.

from above your crossed blades, you raise your head and meet his eyes — twin pools of dark, abysses made to consume you whole. time slows down. you want to drown in the marrow of him and feel the warmth of his flesh beneath yours, lost in rapturous agony. something settles in your gut, low and warm.

you call it fury.

you pivot out of the way and nick him, a thin cut splitting open the skin of his cheek. he laughs. slashes at you with deathly precision. you duck, squatting down, leg springing forth, slamming at the back of his knee. he falls. catches you by the ankle and drags you to him.

you snarl. 

“let go.”

how utterly pathetic of you. his grip falters. you hear his blades fall to the ground. you twist, pivot until you’re straddling him, blade pressed against his throat.

there you have it. internal carotid, right below the sculpted edge of his jaw. five minutes until death. five minutes, with his lifeblood coating your hands, soaking your robes, sinking down to your skin beneath.

your hand cramps on the handle of your weapon, in a mockery of rigor mortis. nervous impulse. the tip of the blade pierces tender flesh, drawing a droplet of blood. you follow its path down the column of his flesh, until it reaches the edge of his collarbone.

his hands surges forward, seizing your forearm in a vice grip, yanking you towards him. you feel his breath on your lips with his next words.

“do it.”

his voice sends a shiver down your spine. low, gravelly, it calls for blood. if you don’t spill his, yours will be drawn. yet, you do not move, eyes riveted to his face, to the vicious impatience carved in his features. if you kill him, you’ll be hunted and put down like a dog. 

he shifts under you, the nervous twitch of a beast untamed. even through the hard edges of his ritual armor, you can feel the raw power of him.

you feel his thumb trace the edge of an old scar, up, up your forearm, a flash of black teeth and then— 

pain.

there’s something in your side, serrated, razor-sharp, twisting. your hand raises to your side. warmth trickles down your fingers. his hand wraps over yours, warm, blood a silky black against the porcelain of his skin.

he watches you, twisting the blade until yours fall to the ground, bloodied hand coming up to your cheek. you lean into it. welcome him, as his thumb smears blood across the edge of your parted lips.

“you fought well, atreides.” 

he pulls out the blade.

you fall.

taglist: @kpopnstarwars @jaiuneamesolitaiire

[greycaelum]

Kidnapping of a Wife~

's just basically just a drabble to get out of rusty era~

It’s got to be those hips… those hips that filled up after three pregnancies, round and full against his palms every time he comes behind you and runs his hands to trace your enticing curves feeling your skin shiver against his callous hands and bite your lower lip with hazy eyes or maybe when he spanks your glorious bum cheeks and you gasp in surprise while he snickers and holds you against his body and your foreheads pressed against each other with that shit-eating grin he has that he knows never fails to get a rise out of you.

Satoru cleared his throat as he gazed at you playing with Saika on the couch, some kind of game about cats making soup or something.

Or maybe... it must be those heavy globes of yours that only grew more precious and milkier in his eyes, and let's not forget that tummy, good heavens, he's never found anything more fluffy and adorable to clutch and massage whenever his hands find your tummy… Motherhood only made you glow in his eyes.

“I win,” Kouki announces breaking the pattern of Satoru’s thoughts. His son’s white go stones capture his territory with no possible leeway to turn around.

“Lemme seeeee~” Satoru hums, as if trying to be seriously taking into account the game when for all the matter he knows he lost because he was too busy ogling at you than picking the right corner to place his go stones against his son.

“Mama, I won!” Kouki left him sitting on the mat and ran to you asking for the prize. A kiss!

Satoru pouted as you peppered his son’s face with kisses. He sighs. It’s no use arguing with his kids about wanting some lovin’ time with you. After they are his spawns, they’re bound to be glued to you just like he wants to stick around you too like a leech.

“What’s my consolation prize?” Satoru plops beside you and hugs you by the side, pouting with his chin on your shoulder.

“There’s a consolation prize?” You feigned innocence and asked your kids mooching you off with kisses and tickles.

“Nope.” Kouki shrugs.

“There’s none,” Saika added.

“Mama’s ours.” Kouki nodded and kissed your cheeks while Saika giggled and buried her face in your chest.

Satoru looked at you with a flat expression before sweeping you off your feet, hoisting you in his arms leaving the kids gaping on the floor, everything was too fast they couldn’t even hold on to your dress. His spawns are betraying him, bullying him.

“No husband has been jailed for kidnapping a wife from her clingy kids, yet.” Satoru stuck his tongue at his kids before running away with you in his arms and his two kids hot on his trails.

“Papa is a mommy kidnapper!”

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)

General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld @loml-riri @pelicanpizza @emichou-chan

[wriothesleybear]

I just had some wild thoughts….just something about reader not wanting wrio to pulls out even after he came like 😀😀 the reader would just wraps their leg around him and begs him to stay inside

I’m not sure if you’re looking for a wholesome, fluffy version or a spicy, smut version anon so I’ll do both! Enjoy!~ (Also, shoutout to my coworker for helping me think of male scents for Wrio. She a real one lmao)

~Sfw Version~

~warnings: mention of sex/orgasms, cockwarming, otherwise just fluff, snuggling, slight aftercare, fem!reader, MDNI!

His sweaty body falls ontop of yours as you both breathe heavily, hearts beating fast as you come down from the euphoric high orgasm. Once he gains his awareness, he pushes off of you as to not crush you with his muscled weight. As he was about to pull his cock out so he could lay next to you, his movements are stopped as you wrap your legs around his hips. “Not yet Wrio. I want your cock in me for a little longer.” You beg as you look up at him with a needy look. How could he say no to you, especially since you look so glorious laid out on his sheets like that. He chuckles and flips you two around so you’re straddling his lap, cock fit snuggly inside your pussy as he wraps his arms around you. You rest your head in the crook of his neck and inhale his scent. Sweat with the hint of aftershave and the smell of spice and black vanilla. Nuzzling your nose into his neck, you press a kiss to his skin. Smiling, he uses one hand to comb his fingers through your hair as his other arm wraps securely around your hips, keeping you close. “We’ll stay like this just a little longer, then I’ll run us a bath, my dear.” You only reply with a mumble, eyes getting heavy as exhaustion overtakes you. The calming pace of his steady breathing, the secure hold he has on you, and the mesmerizing touch of his fingers in your hair easily lulls you to sleep. It’s not long until slight snores can be heard from you. Smiling, he presses a light kiss to your forehead, then closes his eyes to bask in the serene moment of closeness and silence.

~Nsfw Version~

~warnings: smut, mentions of grinding, cum, cockwarming, slight aftercare, fem!reader, MDNI!

Laying on top of you, he holds his upper half up while his head rests in the crook of your neck, he breathes heavily as he tries to gain his senses from the mindbreaking orgasm he just had. Once his cock finally finishes spurting his warm seed inside of you, he begins to pull out until he’s stopped by your legs wrapping around his hips. He’s caught off guard for a second and gives you a questioning look. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull his face close to yours and look deeply into his eyes. “Not yet Wrio. I want your cock in me for just a little longer. Please?” You beg then peck his lips. He replies with pulling you into another kiss. This one deeper and longer, more passionate. Your tongues interwine as the kiss turns more intense. You moan into the kiss as his hands explore your skin, groping your most sensitive areas. You smirk as you feel his cock twitch inside your pussy. “I see I’m not the only one who wants more.”

“Can you blame me? How can I not get hard from kissing your sweet, delicious lips and hearing the sinful moans that leave them.” He kisses you again, lips moving from your mouth, down to your chin, to your neck, to lick and nibble on the already bitten skin. Tilting your head to give him more access, your eyes close and your hips involuntarily move against his as you whisper his name. “Fuck,” he quietly curses. His hips grind against yours, pelvis rubbing against your sensitive clit, as he searches for that pleasurable friction. Your hands grab his ass, helping to guide him to rub harder against your clit. Your nails dig into his skin, causing him to groan and bite harder onto your neck. The bed creaks and bumps against the wall from your movements. It doesn’t take long until you’re both shaking from the immense pleasure as you cum on his cock and he spills into you once again. He falls unto his side and pulls you close to him, keeping his cock snuggled in you. Rubbing your back, you both try to steady your breathing and fast heartbeats. Once calm, you both look at one another and break into a giggling fit. “That was..wow.” Wrio says as his laughter subsides. “I suppose I should tell you not to pull out sooner.” You teasingly flirt. He smiles at you and pulls you into a passionate kiss. Once you two pull away, you press your forehead to his, nuzzling your nose against his. “I love you, Wrio.” His hold on you tightens. “I love you too, my Duchess.” He presses one final kiss to your forehead and holds you close in his arms as you two finally succumb to sleep. 

[cower-before-power]

As Mortals Do

Pairing: Gale X Fem Reader

Summary: As much as you enjoy being with Gale in the Weave, you love being with him just as he is more- aka All The Ways Mystra Missed Out

Warnings: Implied sex, very light grinding, mentions of oral (both on Gale and reader), I guess a smattering of angst?? But mostly soppy romantic, sexy fluff. MINORS STAY AWAY!

Word Count: approx 1300

A/N: I haven't written anything for ages but I'm obsessed with BG3 and Gale, just had a little idea and decided to jot it down. I hate hate hate Mystra, Gale deserves all the love and adoration just as he is, and this is me giving it to him haha. I'm not a Weave sex expert, nor do I know for sure if Gale and Mystra did it outside the Weave, but this is my fic and I'll do what I want!

Mystra is a fool, you think.

It’s not a new thought. You often find your mind turning to the goddess, and the depths of her raging stupidity. How she cast aside a man so full of love and devotion, a man whose heart bled worship and loyalty, a man who gives and gives and gives. A man like Gale Dekarios deserves to be loved as much as he loves, to be held near and never let go of.

Her loss is your gain, you think to yourself smugly, as you lay on your lover’s chest, the two of you basking in the sweet afterglow of your lovemaking. Gale is all yours now. His mind yours to delight in, his body yours to lose yourself in, his heart yours to cherish as the precious thing that it is.

You do not intend to replicate her mistakes.

“I can hear the gears in your brain turning, love,” Gale’s rich voice rumbles softly under your ear. “Spare a thought?”

You prop yourself up on an elbow, allowing yourself to drink deep of his satisfied visage before you answer. Gale is truly a vision after you’ve wrung pleasure from him, eyes aglow and face flushed, happiness exuding from every pore. You keep the image tucked close to your heart, a special treasure for you and you alone to revel in.

“I was just reflecting on the folly of your previous lover, darling. As I often do.”

Mystra’s name no longer brings pain to his dark eyes. Instead, he quirks a brow, no doubt curious as to the train of your thoughts.

“Oh? And in what way do you find fault in her this time?”

You brush your fingers along his cheek, his forehead, the slope of his nose. His skin is warm and slick with sweat. “I couldn’t help but think how foolish of her to never have you like this, in this mortal plane. She missed out greatly.”

Gale catches the hand tracing his face, bringing it to his mouth to kiss each of your fingertips. A shiver of delight skitters up your spine.

“How do you figure that?” He asks, lips moving to press more kisses to your palm, your wrist. You want to melt into his gentle devotion, but you have a point you wish to make. Gently, you prise your hand from his grasp, settling it over his beating heart.

You grin down at him. “Don’t mistake me, sex in the Weave is incredible. Every time you take me in there, I’m drowned in ecstasy. Our very souls meeting, entwining like that? It’s not something I ever thought I’d experience, and I’m thrilled I get to. With you.”

Gale smiles at that. “I’m glad to show you those delights, my love.”

“But,” you lean forward and press your lips to his quickly, gently. “as pleasurable as the Weave is, it skips a lot of my favourite parts.”

Gale’s mouth opens, no doubt to inquire what you mean, but you silence him with a firmer press of your lips.

“Your ethereal paramour did not have many glorious experiences, darling,” your breath mingles with his as your lips brush teasingly. “She did not get to feel the smoothness of your lips the graze of your beard against her skin as you kiss her. Or how it bites deliciously against her sensitive inner thighs.”

You nip his bottom lip softly, relishing in the hitch of his breath and the flutter of his lashes.

“She did not smell your scent, sandalwood and mulled wine and bound leather, and how it mixes with the musk of sex and passion into an elixir I wish I could bathe in.” To drive your point, you lower your face to rest in the crook of his neck, inhaling a generous lungful of said aroma. It sends a visible shudder right through you, and you feel yourself already wanting for your wizard again.

Your tongue sneaks out to lave a long stripe up the side of his neck. and the soft groan that tears from Gale’s throat makes your whole being positively ache with need.

“She did not taste your sweat, the salty tang of your spend. She did not feel the wonderful heaviness of you on her tongue, the little twitch right before you spill. Or see the way you look so thoroughly and splendidly debauched after I’m done with you.”

You climb atop him, hands braced on his chest as he grips your hips harshly. Gods above, he is a truly beautiful sight. You think you are the luckiest woman in all Faerun, to have such a man beneath you.

“She did not get to feel how warm you are inside her, how delicious it feels to be flooded with your seed. How connecting in that base, physical manner can feel just as wonderful as a merging of souls.”

To emphasize your words, you grind your hips against his, mewling softly at the feel of him growing between your thighs. Gale himself is practically panting, his sweet brown eyes nearly swallowed by dark lust, his own hips rutting up into yours mindlessly as he hangs on your every word.

You lean over him, chest to chest, face to face. Close as close can be, just the way you always want to be.

“She missed out on so much you have to offer,” you whisper, “and I’m not sorry for her. I’m greedy, all of this-intimacy, unconditional love, an equal partnership-with you is mine and mine alone.”

Gale snaps then, leaning up to capture your mouth in a voracious kiss. You sigh and sag into him, letting him devour your mouth as his hands wander the expanse of your naked skin. His kiss excites, his touch inflames, your bodies melt together like they were made to be entwined.

You firmly believe they were.

Lips meet, tongues dance, sighs and groans mingle in the soft moonlight. You soft whimpers of delight however, are soon abruptly turned into a squeal as he flips you under him. “Gale!”

Your wizard simply smiles down at you in awe and reverence. You think his eyes might be glassed with unshed tears. “My love, your words….I would ask if you truly mean them, but you’ve been quite the persistent one in making me believe my own worth.”

You return his smile. “I am annoying in that way, aren’t I?”

“Doggedly so,” Gale teases, kissing your nose as it scrunches up at his jesting. “But, I appreciate it. More than even my verbose vocabulary can explain, if you can believe that.”

You giggle. “My wizard of words? Unable to explain something? I certainly cannot believe it.”

Gale’s smile turns salacious. “No matter. I’m learning the benefit of expressing myself physically when words fail me.” He shifts, hard as steel against you, and a moan strangles itself in your throat. “Now, my love, my light, my darling precious gem, shall I express my feelings on your lovely speech with my body? Allow you to enjoy all the things you just praised so eloquently?"

He shifts again, and you cant your hips upwards with a whine, desperation seeping into your pores. You want to have him, again and again again, unending, unyielding. You feel like you might go mad if you don't.

Gale’s reciprocation of your hunger shines down upon you like the sun. “Let me indulge in you, sweetheart,” he croons lowly, “let me bring you to the heights of pleasure. In all the corporeal ways that mortals do.”

Your heart cracks open, joy overflowing. There is no greater bliss. He is bliss, in all that he is and all that he gives to you.

“Yes, please,” you murmur, as Gale presses in and consumes you whole. “As mortals do.”

[pucksandpower]

Use Your Words

Charles Leclerc x Reader x Lando Norris

Summary: in which your boyfriends show you that there’s no shame in using your safeword

Warnings: 18+ content and use of a safeword

Based on @uramakimochi’s request

Note: the fact that I literally manifested the Charlando podium while writing this? I wish team orders didn’t play such a big role during the race but I will take the results and not look a gift horse in the mouth 🫶

Charles and Lando are both rummaging through their suitcases, looking for neckties as you wait on the bed. After their double podium finish earlier today, the three of you decided to have a little private celebration back at the hotel.

“Found one!” Charles holds up a red silk tie with a mischievous grin.

Lando chuckles, pulling out a striped tie in shades of blue. “This’ll do the trick.”

You bite your lip in anticipation as they approach you with the neckties. Charles slips behind you, gently gathering your wrists and using the tie to secure them together. You shiver at his warm breath on your neck as he works.

“Too tight?” He whispers. You shake your head slightly, unable to hide your smile.

Lando kneels in front of you, looping his tie into a makeshift blindfold and carefully covering your eyes. “Can you see anything?”

“No,” you murmur, plunged into comforting darkness. Your senses sharpen, focused on the sounds of their movements and the occasional brush of fingers against your skin.

“Perfect,” Lando’s voice is low. You feel the bed shift as he rises. “We’re going to take such good care of you tonight, princess.”

A thrill runs through you. The three of you agreed on a safeword when you first started seeing each other, a sure fire way to get any driver’s attention and slow things down. But tonight you have zero intention of using it.

Charles’ lips find the sensitive spot just below your ear. “You looked so gorgeous standing below the podium, vibrating with pride. I could hardly keep my hands off you.”

You let out a shaky breath as his mouth blazes a trail down the side of your neck. “Ch-Charles ...”

“Shhh,” he soothes, nipping at your pulse point. “No need for words yet.”

Lando’s hands glide over your thighs, pushing them gently apart. You automatically part your lips in a soft gasp. Fingertips tease along your inner thighs, drawing maddeningly close before retreating.

“So responsive,” Lando marvels. You can’t see him but you know he’s grinning. “I haven’t even properly touched you yet and you’re already squirming.”

Your cheeks flush hot. You want to retort but all that comes out is a quiet whine as Lando’s fingers finally make contact. He chuckles darkly at your reaction.

Charles slips one hand beneath the loose hem of your top, palm skating over your ribs and up to cup your breast. You arch into his touch with a small moan. His thumb brushes over your nipple, adding delicious friction through the thin fabric of your bra.

“So beautiful,” he rumbles in approval. “The way your body sings for us ...”

His mouth finds yours, tongue instantly seeking entrance that you grant with a whimper. The kiss is deep and hungry, leaving you dizzy and panting when he finally releases your lips.

Lando’s long fingers have been steadily working between your thighs, stroking and teasing your increasingly slick folds. You buck your hips without meaning to, desperate for more substantial contact.

“Please,” you finally manage to beg. Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“Patience, darling,” Lando tuts, though his own breathing is growing ragged. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder for better access, leaning in to lick a broad stripe right through your heated center.

You cry out sharply, tugging instinctively at the tie binding your wrists. The heat of Lando’s mouth and the soft lap of his tongue are glorious torment. Charles smothers your keening noises with another searing kiss.

Lando groans his appreciation against your tender flesh, lapping and sucking insistently. “You taste so fucking good,” he growls. “Been dreaming about this all day ...”

Arousal is throbbing through you like a second heartbeat. Charles’ lips abandon yours to trail down your throat, his other hand cupping your breast and rolling the nipple between his fingertips. Every nerve is exquisitely alive, buzzing beneath their skilled touches.

Lando’s tongue flicks over your throbbing clit and your back arches off the bed. Your loud mewl is half pleasure, half plea. He grants you no reprieve, mouth working enthusiastically to take you apart piece by piece. Charles captures your lips again, stealing the cries from your throat.

You’re quickly soaring higher, spiraling toward that glorious precipice. Their murmured praises and scorching caresses urge you ever onward. But just when you think you’re about to tumble over the edge, Lando’s mouth abandons you entirely.

You nearly sob at the loss, hips frantically chasing that delicious friction. Charles soothes you with gentler kisses, murmuring praise against your swollen lips. “So good for us, mon ange. You’re doing beautifully.”

You dimly feel the bed shift again, and then there’s a warm mouth trailing kisses up your inner thigh. Charles, blessing you with more delicious stimulation. But just when you think he’s going to grant you relief, Lando’s seeking lips find your other thigh.

“No, no please,” you beg between panting breaths. If they keep denying you for much longer, you’ll go mad. There’s a soft tsking noise and you feel Lando’s fingers combing through your hair. Charles continues lavishing attention on your shuddering flesh.

“Use your words,” Lando murmurs huskily. “What do you need, love?”

You swallow hard, mouth suddenly dry. “Please just … I need ...”

“Tell us, mon amour,” Charles prompts, lips brushing your hipbone.

There’s really only one way to circumvent this maddening tease. You suck in a breath, steadying yourself.

“Box,” you force out. “Box box box.”

All movement instantly stills. Your heart is thundering a rapid staccato, waiting with bated breath for them to respond to the agreed safeword. You bite your lip, instantly second guessing your decision.

Fingers stroke along your cheeks, Lando’s touch infinitely gentle. “Sweetheart,” his normally playful voice is low and soothing, all traces of teasing vanished. “Are you hurting? Do you need to stop?”

You shake your head minutely, abruptly blinking back unexpected tears of frustration behind the blindfold. “No no, I just … please can I just ...”

“Shh, it’s alright,” Lando hushes you. His lips lightly brush your forehead. “Take a deep breath, pretty girl.”

You obey, inhaling shakily through your nose. Charles presses a reassuring kiss to your cheek.

“Talk to us,” he urges softly. “Don’t be afraid to voice your needs.”

“I w-want ...” you stammer, toes curling. “I need you both so badly, please. No more teasing. I just want you to make me come.”

There’s a pause, and for a heart-stopping moment you fear you’ve ruined the mood entirely. But then Lando lets out a low groan of relief.

“Look at you using your words so prettily,” he praises. Charles chuckles softly beside you, nuzzling against your jaw. You feel the bed shift again as Lando moves into position.

“We would never deny you, love,” he murmurs. “Not when you ask so sweetly.”

His long fingers slide home, curling and plunging into your dripping heat. You cry out at the sudden stretch and glorious pressure. Charles lays claim to your mouth again, greedily swallowing your moans.

Lando’s palm fits perfectly against your bundle of nerves, grinding in time with the thrust of his fingers. The spark of pleasure races through you, building and spiraling rapidly higher. Distantly you hear your own broken whimpers bleeding into Charles’ mouth.

“That’s it, ma belle,” he growls, lips trailing over your cheeks and throat. “Let us hear how good we make you feel.”

Lando curls his fingers, nailing that sublime spot inside you over and over until you begin to shake apart. Your cries rise to a sobbing keen, back arched taut as a bowstring.

“Come for us, darling.” Lando’s command is heated, fingers sinking deep. “Let go.”

You shatter with a high wail, rapture cascading through you in scorching waves. Lando strokes you through it, coaxing every last spasm of bliss with his touch until you finally slump boneless against the mattress.

Strong arms envelop you, tucking you securely against dual heartbeats. Gentle fingers trace your features, brushing away the dampness beneath your blindfold. You’re surrounded with warmth and adoration, coddled by their praise.

“Belle fille,” Charles murmurs, lips finding your temple.

“So perfect,” Lando echoes, stroking back sweat-dampened strands of hair. “Our good girl ...”

You sigh in utter contentment, letting their cherished words soak into your very bones. No matter what heights you reach, they’ll always be there to catch you in their arms.

[sea-owl]

I'm convinced Colin is touch starved with the way he is constantly touching Penelope.

During their first dance, he's still holding her hand when most couples have been shown to let go or link arms. In the scene where she tries to warn him, you can see the out of shot that he grabs her hand. During the you are Pen scene, he rubs her arm with his BARE HAND. Like, sir! Skin on skin contact?! You know good and well that's not allowed! Then, of course, the most public one, which got the other gentlemen questioning their relationship. When he drags Penelope out of her family's ball to expose Jack Featherington, he's holding her hand and does not let go until they are alone in that room.

Now imagine Penelope putting up boundaries when she forgives him saying him touching her constantly is part of the reason people thought they were courting. Colin becomes grumpy and even grumpier the longer he has no physical contact with HIS Pen. He catches himself so many times leaning in to either take Penelope's hand or run his hand down her arm.

Colin has to bite his lip so he doesn't moan when Penelope is wrapping his hand after cutting it. It's the first time he's had physical contact with her in a long time! Possibly since last season.

Then during their first kiss he just snaps. Not only is he finally, finally, touching Penelope again he's touching her in a new way that he does not want to stop. His hands are everywhere on her and he moans into the kiss when Penelope rests her hands on him.

Then Penelope pulls away and Colin refuses to go back to not touching her. He can't.

So it's really no wonder they ended up that way in the carriage. Emotions were high, Colin was angry and scared, and he just needed something to ground him. Truly, he just wanted to hold Penelope, but again, emotions were high, and holding her wasn't enough. It felt glorious to cover her body with his, his hands exploring her further than she had before. Penelope's hands being more active with running them through his hair and down his back underneath his shirt. Having her initiate skin on skin contact with him? Colin knew he had to marry Penelope. He would not live without her touch.

[mysumeow]

Yes yay!! I really enjoyed your Malleus smut! Would you care to write another like it but with a Jealous Malleus and feminine reader during the glorious masquerade event, please? Maybe rollo was bothering her throughout the dance and Malleus was getting upset by it, but decides to not do anything about it until the end of the dance where he confronts reader in the comfort of her room.

if you do not like it, then its okay! if you decide to go on and write, then the only thing i request of you is to exclude cuckholding… im not a fan of it…

(and i apologize for my poor english, its not my first language!!)

──ADORNMENT

Warnings: Size kink, unprotected piv, titplay (reader receiving), malleus accidentally bites your lip a little too hard, you also bite him a little bit too hard :). Reader is referred to with you/your, afab body reader, reader is mentioned to be wearing a dress.

Summary: Malleus couldn't help but wonder if Rollo was trying to get on his bad side from the moment he stepped foot into Noble Bell College. He didn't like one bit how intent Rollo was on catching your attention.

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: HI ANON I loved the idea, as you can see from those 2.4k words haha...possessive dragon man gotta be my fav character trait so i was IN. Also, dw about your english, it's not my first either T_T

MASTERLIST

When Rollo's eyes appeared to brighten just the tiniest bit when he found out you weren't a magic user, his slightly more amicable tone of voice when he spoke to you, and the lingering gaze Rollo would watch you with when you weren’t looking at him...

Even if those were small details, Malleus took note of all of them. Needless to say, the fae didn’t like it one bit. Although, he was rather graceful with how he carried his possessiveness in public.

For example, from afar, Rollo’s intention to ask you to dance was obvious, at least to Malleus’s keen eyes. Without rushing, without needing to send any nasty looks to the school council’s president, Malleus approached you and asked you. Malleus placed his hand on his chest, where his heart should be, and gave a slight bow.

With Malleus’s princely charm, it was no surprise that your heart would beat faster at the sight. Almost dumbfounded, you grasped his hand. He took the lead during the ball dance, guiding your movements with swift and precise motions, his hand firm on the small of your back, and adoring eyes. Anyone would think he was beyond smitten.

The intricate pattern of his mask complemented his alluring, half-lidded eyes. The jade of the strategically placed jewels on his clothing was a fine detail you were keen on. Not to mention that tiny mesh window on his chest; you could appreciate the swells of his pecs—

“I think that dress suits you a lot too,” Malleus had caught your mind wandering. “You appear to be rather entranced by the jewel’s beauty,” You spotted his eyes shoot a quick glance towards your neck. “A necklace would look nice on you,” 

You swallowed, the onslaught of compliments flustering you. Or maybe you were embarrassed that Malleus took note of your prolonged, fixed gaze on him. Perhaps it was both.

As is customary for this type of dance, it was time to change dance partners. It was Rollo’s chance to offer his hand as he cleared his throat, but not without first sending a glare towards the taller fae.

“Those NRC boys must be difficult to deal with, are they not?”

“Well, no,” There were times when they could be challenging to deal with, but often they were fun to be with. There’s any time of boredom when hanging out with them, as each one came up with their silly antics. “They’re good classmates,”

“Good classmates?” Rollo seemed amused at your choice of words. “If that’s your definition of a good classmate, I don’t want to know what’s a bad classmate for you,” The snarky undertone of his words didn’t go unnoticed by you, as faint as it was in his tone.

The festive ball occurred with no major inconveniences, and everyone was having fun, but it was soon time to go back to your rooms, as your group still had some activities to attend to in the morning the next day. This will be a major event you will never forget.

You were getting ready to sleep, giving one final check on what you were going to wear the following morning, until someone knocked on your door. You furrowed your eyebrows, thinking who could be at this hour.

Your sight landed first on a broad chest; you craned your neck upwards, meeting Diasomnia’s housewarden intent observation.

“Malleus?” What business could the housewarden have with you at this hour? Was he coming here to reprimand you for your rude stare? You peeked behind him to see if he came with Silver or Sebek, but became rather surprised at the lack of his trusted bodyguards. “Uhm, is there something wrong?”

“Not at all. I wanted to check up on you,” Malleus placed his hand on his chin, thoughtful. “This day has been rather hectic, has it not? And you seemed quite disgruntled when dancing with Flamme,”

“Oh, that?” You laughed, both nervous and relieved. “It’s been a tiring day, that’s true—but fun, too. About Rollo, well, by the time I was dancing with him, I was already drained. Maybe that’s why I looked annoyed, I guess,”

You were too late to notice Malleus inching closer.

“Hm, is that so…” Malleus wasn’t convinced. “I’m not sure whether you’ve perceived it, but he looked invested in you. Furthermore, considering his attitude, I worried he might’ve been bothering you,”

“Not really. He was commenting about how I dealt with NRC students, and that’s it.”

His eyes trailed from your face to the damp tips of your hair. You had taken a quick bath before returning to your room. “It's a relief to know you're not troubled at all,”

“No worries, Malleus. Thanks for checking up on me.”

Your mind came to a stop when his hands reached out to the damp ends of your hair. You became aware of the shift in mood in that instant.

“It did bother me, however.”

Huh?

“What do you mean...?” You wanted to make sure you didn't mishear him or to clear up any confusion there could be.

“I reminisce about you being quite keen on the jewel on my chest,” He changed the topic. You began sweating a bit. “Or were you focused on something else? Mayhap...lower?”

Heat rose to your face. So, he did notice after all. Were you being too obvious? You wanted to bash your head against the nearest wall out of embarrassment.

“I-I’m sorry—”

“Demanding an apology for something I did myself would make me a hypocrite,” His hand left your hair, and he traced his thumb on the juncture of your neck. "Your neck, I meant. I imagined other types of adornment for it,”

The heat. It intensified.

“Would you allow me to show you?” He continued.

Your eyes strayed away from his in preference of landing on his lips. You remembered his fangs—the striking size they had. It wouldn’t be the truth if you said you never fantasized about offering your neck for him to bite down on. Was he referring to adorning your neck with his marks?

“…I’d like that.”

With all the patience in the world, he guided you towards the bed and made you sit on his lap. With a solid grip, his arms circled around your waist and pulled you closer to kiss your neck on a specific area he was intending to mark soon.

At first, it tickled you, he was being gentle about it. You kept squirming on him, and your movements froze the moment he bit down; not hard enough to draw blood, just enough to leave the teeth indents on your skin.

He trailed his kisses from your neck towards your collarbone, pulling down the collar of your top. Without meaning to, your hands roamed around his chest, the palms of your hands pressing against his chest. It was nice to the touch and warmer than you expected.

Malleus, by accident, bit down harder than expected, which caused a chain reaction of you squeezing his pecs firmer than what you pretended to.

The prince pulled away, surprised. You didn’t realize what you did until you realized the positions your hands were in.

“Ah, so that’s what you were actually thinking about during the ball,” He chuckled, amused.

Whoever designed that attire for Malleus knew what they were doing with that little mesh window. Curse them.

You jolted when Malleus’s thumbs rubbed on your nipples through the thin fabric of your pajama’s top. Your little jump further ignited the fae’s curiosity, and he repeated the action. Taking note of your apparent enjoyment from that, one of his hands snaked underneath the top, his hand stopping on your chest and giving it a tentative squeeze.

Malleus became aware of your grinding, and if the lusty haze overcoming your eyes was anything to go by, he dared to finish bunching up your top over your tits and take one into his mouth.

Your hands didn’t move away from his chest, so you began caressing him there again. Was this warmth coming from your own body or his? It felt inviting, making you desire to embrace him and not let go. Your hands went lower, feeling the toned muscles, and soon, you slithered your hands under his clothes too.

The sound that came from his mouth when he gave one last suckle before pulling away from your tits made you sheepish, and you hid your face in his chest. Malleus found your reaction endearing, and he laughed softly, hugging you again.

“Don't hide yourself from me,” Rather than commanding, it was more akin to a plea. “There's nothing to be ashamed of,” Following what felt natural, he reciprocated your grinding by pushing his hips upwards, your clit stimulated by the movement.

Malleus was voracious about learning how to please you, and when he noticed you preferred backward and forward motions, he gripped you by the hips to aid you with that. On your own, you had maintained a moderate tempo; under his eagerness to bring you to an orgasm, it was fast.

Your breathing staggered, and your voice went weak as you tried to form words. “I-I'm going to cum,”

“Shh,” He kissed you. “You're going to wake up the others,”

Even though he attempted to silence you with his lips, a whine escaped you. Without meaning to, as you orgasmed, you bit on his bottom lip, earning yourself a groan from him.

Whatever patience remained was lost in that moment. With restraints lost, both of you bared your bodies to each other.

With teary eyes from the slight sting on your lip, which you had received almost right after from Malleus after you bit him, you left out a small ow.

“I apologize,” Malleus said, wiping the thin line of blood from your lip. “I lost control there for a moment. With how tempting you unraveled before me, I couldn’t hold back,” His tongue licked along your bottom lip again. “But you don't seem to hate it, or am I wrong?”

“Not wrong,” You admitted, and you kissed him again, this time more feverishly.

Malleus’s length was long and undeniably thick, with excessive precum pearling on his tip. In the sitting position, you were on his lap, and you more or less gauged that it reached your belly button.

You shifted your position, the head of his dick poked into your entrance, and you were allured into taking him in one go.

Despite your zeal to have it in one sitting, you knew something of that size needed to be done little by little. Inch by girthy inch.

You lowered yourself, and the tip prodded in. His hold on your waist became harder, and your fingernails were digging in just a bit further. Gripping the dragonfae by the shoulders, you relaxed your legs, and some more of him pushed inside. You came to an abrupt stop when you couldn't fit more in. The tip nudged against your cervix, after all.

You were breathing heavily, and Malleus was too. His chest heaved, and narrowed eyes fixed on you—about to ravish you.

Up and down, gently at first, you began getting used to his size. You started relaxing more, you could swear you were taking what you couldn't at first.

“I see you struggling to move,” the fae brushed away with his fingers, the strands of hair clinging to your face because of sweat. “Want me to lend a hand?”

Your thighs were hurting a bit, so you nodded.

Given how patient he had been, the fast pace he set left you breathless. Your body bounced with the force of his cadence, his stare boring into your vulnerable expressions and focusing on your hitched breaths.

Malleus was looking forward to Rollo’s reaction when he saw the multiple marks scattered across your neck and collarbone. Yet his favorites were the ones that would be hidden under your clothes, the ones on your chest. He was sure to leave more of those soon.

Your thoughts turned into mush, and if it weren’t for Malleus manhandling your hips, you would’ve stopped to catch your breath. Nearing your release, your hands slide down to rub your clit.

This action didn’t go unseen by him; Malleus was a fast learner, and by just taking note of where you wanted to be touched, he understood what his next move should be: use his thumb to play with your delicate nub.

You squealed from the pleasure, his fingers wet with your arousal. With firm, decisive strokes, you climaxed sooner than you were prepared, your pussy squeezing hard around him. The sight of you unraveling before him for a second time that same night, with your naked body clinging to him and your trembling frame, was enough for him to climax seconds later.

When he pulled out, a thick thread of cum clung to the head and dripped down to the base. You could feel the abundant amount of cum dripping from your overstimulated pussy; you never imagined faes could release that much…

“Is your body sore? Do you want me to take you to the bathroom?” The dense fog of lust dissipated enough, and the intimacy you shared solidified a thought. He was convinced: You’re the one for him.

“Yeah…” You managed to respond, still coming down from that climax.

Thanks to Malleus’s help, you both headed in the direction of the closest bathroom available.

A loud clang from the end of the hallway made you face in that direction, finding out who dropped the oil lamp to the floor.

None other than the president of Noble Bell College's School Council, who saw you and Malleus walk out of your room.