#i really fucking love them together. their dynamic is everything

[beenbaanbuun]

Hiiii bun! ✨ I have a question about Opposites Attract matz ✋🤓 Im wondering about their bedroom dynamic with each other, when their darling isn't there and it's just the two of them. Do they ever have sex (or scenes?) just the two of them anymore? What about before darling came into their lives, what were they like then? Has their dynamic with each other changed since they met her?

isak, i’ve been saying i’ll answer this for ages but then exams and the sadness and now here we are!!

so with or without darling, there is always going to be something so special about the connection that hwa and joong share between themselves. it’s no stronger than the connection they have with darling, but it’s different. more passionate and lust filled and primal. they don’t have to be so sweet with one another, all gentle caresses and soft, dainty words. they can spit and slap and choke until their hearts are content. they can call each other names that would shock even the devil, all while basking in the love they share for one another.

and whilst they love what they have with darling, the need to have someone to pamper becoming ever-more evident with each day that passes by, they can’t help but want something a little less sweet from time to time. yes, hongjoong can spank her and she takes it like a champ, but only seonghwa can take it when he spits at him and calls him a whore. and yes, seonghwa can tie her up with pretty ribbons made of silk and lace, but only hongjoong can appreciate the harsh bite of rope against his pale skin. neither of them would be able to choose one over the other, though; as with everything, it’s just different when darling is present.

and that’s not to say that it isn’t ever different when it’s just the two of them. sometimes hongjoong isn’t up for being tied up and degraded, and other times seonghwa is too tired to don the persona that is able to do all those terrible things. sometimes they just want to lie together and make soft, sweet love. wrap one another up in gentle arms as seonghwa fucks himself gently into hongjoong’s hole. it’s just another way to show their affection, outside of everything else they do for one another, and it’s certainly a nice change of pace from their usual escapades.

these days come far and few between, though. with darling present, their quota for soft gentle sex is already pretty full. they’re passionate people, after all, and darling is just too sweet for them not to bring her to orgasm in the most gentle ways multiple times a day. it doesn’t take away from the affectionate side of it; they work so well as a team that sharing their darling between them is like a bonding experience in of itself. the only thing it’s really changed is the level of rough sex that takes place when darling isn’t present. there’s a lot of it outside of darling, just so they can get it out of their system. slapping, biting, twisting, pinching; it’s all on the table for them during those couple of hours they have during the afternoon nap that yeosang insists they share. they’re very grateful to the wolf in that regard…

#opposites attract universe

[cumstainedpartypants]

this has to be the cutest banter between halsin and shadowheart

Shadowheart: Halsin, if I were a druid, what animal do you think I'd be? Halsin: Given your memory issues, perhaps a goldfish? Shadowheart: I'd hoped for something a bit more exotic, but... would you carry around my fishbowl? Feed me flicks of food? Halsin: Only the finest, of course.

#this has “would you still love me if i was a worm” vibes #i really fucking love them together. their dynamic is everything #shadowheart #halsin #shadowhalsin

[fuckmeyer]

María is a bad bitch queen supreme with a simple dream of reclaiming her land Volturi-style after her human life was tragically cut short by a Texan who had invaded Mexico to create his own vampire Golden Corral. RESPECT HER OR PERISH

#LOVE AND RESPECT FOR HER SHE IS WONDERFUL I LOVE HER #ALSO she's a total softie emotional lil angel who wouldn't have felt forced to take power if her entire coven hadn't been slaughtered #but after YEARS of losses - her human fam & her vamp fam & her HOME - @ the hands of vampires & white colonizers #she got addicted to power & victory! what's a girl supposed to do honestly????? #& LET'S NOT FORGET she & Jasper enabled each other to seek victory bc before they met THEY WERE BOTH LOSERS. #like #i'm just saying she is just as powerful as the Volturi #with a knack for identifying talents in humans #who used the SAME tricks as the Voturi #who was influenced to a degree by Jasper to get greedy bc they were stronger together & loved winning for a change #(we love fucked up relationship 'i can make them worse' dynamics ok) #AND who - & i really can't stress this enough - is only in this damn war because she had everything stolen from her & wanted revenge #yet somehow she gets a lot of flak because she 'manipulated' (not true) and 'abused' (also not true) Jasper?????? the Confederate????????? #just remember #without María jasper would have died in a union-army POW camp eating the fleas off his own clothes #FAX FAX FAX

[oflgtfol]

i know im like constantly complaining lately but it does make me so sad that venom had such a great character arc from starting off as an iconic spiderman villain and then becoming a weird anti-hero. and then they just... devolve back into a villain for some fucking reason

#brot reads marvel comics #im sitting here like. can i truly call this all ooc if the total amount of content over the decades falls more in line #with this new characterization than the original #but also like. it was the fucking original . i think i can reserve the right to be mad that the original characterizations #were just thrown out the window #like this is an entirely different series at this point #sorry wheneveri look ahead at comic synopses for future comics i have to read i just go thru all 5 stages of grief #not looking forward to flash as venom. not going to lie. #not even inherently bc of flash but reading the synposis and how eddie acts during that . its just like #literally what in the god damn!!! #i just. sigh. everything that i loved about venom at the beginning is just gone now #i loved them being a small time anti-hero and trying to carve out their own life together after spending so long just hell-bent on revenge #i loved their growth and how it only ever really manifested in Not Being The Worst Guy In The Room #bc they'll save kids and old people but still like. murder others with glee #and the whole world is against them but they have each other #like idk! i just love that dynamic. #seeing the stakes continuously climb higher for no fucking reason #and have their camaraderie smashed to smithereens #and their character growth backtrack and they turn back into a villain for like. idfk. the edge? like #its just. why. what was the point then

[rememberingpunday]

I high-key miss being surrounded by friends, love, and support 🙃

#I've lived here for a year and haven’t made a single friend lol #it's really making my bpd symptoms more difficult to manage bc I relied so much on support of friends #the only person that ive been able to talk to for an entire year is my partner #i love him very much #but I miss having big fun group conversations and board game nights and performing together and dynamic relationships #work is miserable bc I really believe in what I'm doing and love being able to support the at-risk youth that need me #but everyone I work with refuses to listen to me or respect me and I'm getting frustrated #idk i can't even sleep bc I'm running through work in my head to try and make everything run as smoothly as possible #and when I'm there I'm dismissed and talked down to #if it weren't for the kids I would say fuck 'em all #but I want to be there for them #i can't help but feel worthless and inherently unlikeable #I started typing to distract myself bc I lost it bc even my cats don't want to be around me lol #i can't wait for the next chapter of my life bc this ain't it fam #and it never has been #im so alone #i wish I could cease to exist w/o my partner having to deal with having to pay for everything and ig being heartbroken #i just don't feel like it's worth it #which is ironic bc I tell kids all day long that it is #y'all don't even know the shit ive been through just to still be where I am and not have made any progress #in fact I would say i'm regressing #lmao I can't type anymore #personal

[spiritofjustice]

every time i see John Garrideb i feel so bad for the fella. they rly portray his wife physically abusing him as funny and lighthearted. frankly i don't think a woman hitting, throwing things (including a KNIFE), and pouring scalding tea on her husband who has done nothing wrong is very funny personally!

#psy's no punctuation posts #aa tag #also even if he DID do anything wrong he still wouldn't deserve it. i'm just saying he did fucking NOTHING wrong #him and Joan are close to being an endearing old married couple but bro. come on. #it's fucking CREEPY i'm sorry it's creepy #i just don't find it funny #i find it interesting how their dynamic actually plays out- that John loves her a lot and that never changes despite what she does #because i think it's one of those instances where it's like 'when it's good it's really good' and he knows she loves him despite everything #obviously because the narrative itself is an apologist for the harm Joan does but i still find that concept very interesting to explore #and tbh. makes sense for the time. i think there's something interesting there it's just not touched upon because the abuse is a Joke #but like. in those days. shit i know John wouldn't divorce her. they'd stick to gether the way a lot of older married couples do #even if it's not okay yknow. my parents. not to bring them up again RKFK but they're also like that #-looks at my parents- KRKF #i think of them bcs my mom has thrown a knife at my dad at least once before. this probably dates back 30 years now #they're still together and things are a lot better but in an ideal world they would've divorced before either my sister or i were born lol #but thats the way of a lot of married couples. so i think the Garridebs are quite interesting

[cupid-styles]

brat (sex columnist!harry x best friend!y/n)

in which y/n is best friends with harry, a sex columnist, who needs a little help answering a reader's question.

word count: 3k

content warnings: SMUT!!!! (mean dom/bratty sub dynamic, dirty talk, pussy spanking, paddling, sir kink, degradation, slight edging, fingering)

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

“You’re out of your mind.”

“I’m really not.”

“No, but you are.”

“It would be for work and work only—”

“I don’t care.”

Harry sighs as he lifts a hand to run it through his curly hair. The noisy puff of air is filled with unsaid annoyance and Y/N tries her best not to roll her eyes at her best friend’s stubbornness, instead focusing on toying with the bracelet around her wrist. Instead of replying, he quickly runs his fingertips over the trackpad on his laptop so it glows back to life. 

“Can you at least hear me out?” he asks, his tone teetering on a polite plea, “You know writing about sex is my job. How am I supposed to help this person out when I can’t even offer a fair answer?”

Y/N crosses her arms and shrugs and Harry wishes he could reach across the couch and push them to her sides. 

“What makes you think I have any experience being a sub, anyway?” she fires back, keeping her eyes glued on the TV in front of them.

They're currently binging the newest season of The Bachelor, but Harry was more so using the dialogue and Y/N’s periodic gasps as background noise. For the past year or so, he’s held down a job at an online publication as a sex columnist. He loves it — people write in anonymously, asking him questions about everything from premature ejaculation to open relationships. Under the pen name H.E. Bell, he gets paid to write lengthy, thoughtful responses, helping his readers with approaching whatever sexual issue they’re facing. And this week, his editor really wants him to address a particular question about a dominant and submissive relationship. 

The thing is, though, is the letter comes from a sub. And Harry’s a dom. 

A mean one, at that.

So while Y/N’s diving into a pint of her favorite flavor of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream (Phish Food, obviously), and Harry’s trying his best — and miserably failing — to place himself in the shoes of his submissive reader, he knows what he has to do.

“I hate to tell you, but you scream submissive,” Harry replies, pushing his laptop off of the couch and onto the coffee table. “Don’t even try to deny it. Just… just hear me out. Please. My deadline’s tomorrow afternoon.”

Y/N lets out an irritated huff as she grabs the TV remote and presses pause. Silently, she sits back against the couch, facing her best friend, and shoots him a displeased expression; a wordless allowance to speak. 

“I’m a dom and I’ve literally always been that way. You’re a sub, through-and-through. This person is asking about situations pertaining to experience as a submissive, and I can’t really provide them with the advice that they’re looking for since I’ve never been in that headspace.”

Y/N shrugs carelessly. She’s unbothered by his frank analysis of her subordinate behavior — it’s not exactly surprising that Harry, the sex columnist, is able to identify a sub, dom, or switch from 10 miles away. But that doesn’t mean she has to get dragged into his research, or whatever the hell he was trying to play it off as.

“Why don’t you just skip the question, then?” Y/N asks. “If you don’t have the right resources to offer an answer—”

“My editor thinks it’ll bring in a lot of page views,” he says, his throat bobbing with a swallow. His eyebrows draw together some, creating a small worried wrinkle between them. “Listen, I’ll fuck off if you’re totally uncomfortable with helping me, but you’re my best friend and I don’t know who else I could ask with this short of a timeframe.”

She sighs and brings her knees up to her chest. 

“Fine. Read me the question.”

A grin breaks out on Harry’s face as he grabs his laptop. He taps on the trackpad a few times as he brings the email up on the screen, eyes scanning over his bright inbox. 

“Okay, here’s what they said,” he clears his throat and Y/N really does roll her eyes this time, “Dear H.E.— I’ve been in a sexual relationship with my dominant for three months. Up until now, we’ve clicked really well. The chemistry is great and we always mesh really well both during scenes and aftercare. But lately, I’m worried I’ve been a little too bratty. For context, I’m a bratty sub with an attitude, but my dom knew that going into this. I fear that they’ll grow tired of my nonsense and insistent disobedience, but when I’m in my subspace or engaging in a scene with them, it’s hard for me to pull away from it. What should I do? Do you have any advice for what I can do as a sub to best help my dom?”

Y/N’s plucking at her bottom lip as Harry glances up from his computer. Blinking, she thinks for a moment before crafting a response.

“Well, it sounds like the sub needs to communicate their feelings to their dom. There seems to be a lot of insecurity.” she says. He hums, nodding his head as he types a few words on his keyboard. 

“Yeah, that’s true,” he murmurs, “They said it’s hard for them not to be in that bratty headspace, though.”

She shrugs, “I mean, if you’re a bratty sub, you’re a bratty sub. That’s just who you are.”

“Do you think there are any punishments that would work, then?”

“You’re the dom, shouldn’t you be able to answer that question?”

“I guess,” he replies, running his palm over the short bit of facial hair that’s grown on his chin in the past few days. “Spanking, edging, overstimulation, types of shibari, I guess…”

Y/N’s thighs squeeze involuntarily.

“...I just don’t know what works best.” he finishes his sentence, halting the tapping of his fingertips over the keyboard. “What do you think?”

She forces a swallow to coat her dry throat. “It depends.” she pushes out.

“Well, what works for you?”

She thinks for a moment. It’s been a minute since she’s been in a proper dominant/submissive dynamic — the last few times she’s had sex have all been one night stands and quick flings, all of which don’t allow enough time to learn about hard limits, punishments, and safe words. Her brain has to float back to a year ago, when she was sleeping with Reese, a soft dom who tried his best to tame her bratty nature but came back empty every time. He was good — the sex was good, but she wanted — no, needed — more.

“I don’t think I’ve ever really had a dominant… achieve that, I guess,” she mumbles thoughtfully. “I mean, I know what I like, as far as punishments go. But it’s not really about what the submissive likes, is it?”

“No,” Harry agrees. He hums as he opens up a second tab and she watches as he types the words “punishments for submissives” into the search engine. She sniffles and attempts to disregard the way her core instantly clenches. 

He’s silent as he reads through a few lists, occasionally jotting down some notes into his Google doc. Y/N swallows noisily when he glances back up at her, this time prepared with an apparent list of proposed consequences. 

“Okay, can you just tell me which ones you think most submissives would be fine with?”

She nods.

“Withgoing underwear in public?”

“Mhm.”

“Pussy spanking?”

“Yeah.”

“Nipple wax play?”

“Depends on the sub’s pain tolerance, but um… yeah.”

“Paddling?”

“I actually haven’t done that one before.”

Harry’s eyebrows raise. 

“No?”

She shakes her head. “None of my doms have ever had one.”

“Doesn’t sound like they were proper doms, then.”

“They’ve all been on the softer side,” Y/N explains shyly. “But… yeah. I guess it’s always something I’ve wanted to try.”

“Is it?” 

She can tell by the way his eyes have darkened, that there’s something wicked stirring in that brain of his. She knows she can put a stop to this now if she wants — he’s her best friend and he wouldn’t care if she ended the conversation here and now. 

But she doesn’t.

Not for a second.

So instead she nods. And she’s completely unsurprised by the next sentence that falls from his lips.

“Do you want to try it now?”

By now, Y/N’s brain is all fuzzy and melty, so she doesn’t even think before she’s nodding her head eagerly. Harry chuckles and closes his laptop, shuffling onto his knees to lean forward and pluck at her bottom lip. A smirk curves at his mouth as she leans into his touch.

“Getting quite desperate on me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, cradling her cheek into his palm. “Get naked for me then and I’ll go get the paddle. No touching while I’m gone.”

Her stomach flips at the domineering tone in his voice. All too quickly, they’ve fallen into their most intimate roles, and Harry’s carrying himself to his bedroom as Y/N continues sitting there, all gooey-eyed and foggy. And maybe he should have expected it when he returns back to the living room a few moments later to see her sprawled out across the length of the couch, her bralette and underwear still on with her fingers tucked beneath the waistband of the fabric.

“Kitten,” Harry all but growls, making Y/N shiver at the pet name, “Are you already disobeying me?”

She hums as she watches him through half-lidded eyes, soft fingertips petting at her pearled clit. His eyes glimpse down at the tented material and he instantly sets the dark red paddle down on the carpeted floor, kneeling between her legs.

“What’s your color?” he breathes, locking a hand around her ankle. Her pussy quivers just from the simple grasp.

“Green,” she answers, “I’ll tell you if anything changes. Safe word is licorice.”

Harry nods, allowing his large hands to float up her legs. They reach the gusset of her sodden underwear and he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, snapping the fabric against her swollen pussy.

“Take your hand out of your panties now and I won’t smack your pussy until she’s raw.”

Y/N doesn’t move. In fact, he thinks her circling fingers only quicken.

“I’ll give you one last warning,” he grits out, squeezing the flesh of her thighs, “I’m not a nice dominant. You won’t be able to walk if you keep going against me.”

But of course, her hand stays glued to the bundle of nerves. Instead, she breathes out a sultry response: “Think I could cum like this, having you watch me.”

In a moment, her cotton underwear is being ripped from her body and thrown aside. He’s swift in his movements as he collects her wrists in his palm, squeezing them harshly and throwing them up, high above her body. She gasps, noisy and wet.

“I don’t fuck around with brats like you for a reason.” 

The first spank he issues to her puffy pussy is quick and fleeting, hardly offering a lick of pain. He’s eager to find where her pain threshold lies; if she’s all talk or if she can take the full force of his large palm. By the time he lands the sixth one, her skin now reddening beneath his smacks, he thinks he’s found it and he admits, he’s relatively impressed. 

“Aw, did that one hurt?” Harry mocks, watching as her face twists in an expression of discomfort. “That’s because punishments are meant to be mean. You’re not supposed to enjoy them, little brat. You’ve had it too easy, hm?”

“H-haven’t,” she stutters out, wincing as he delivers a seventh, “I’m good, sir, I swear—”

“Oh, bull-fuckin’-shit,” he retorts. “You’re a silly little brat is what you are.”

“‘m not—”

Smack—

“You are.”

She whines until he reaches the tenth one. She’s a wiggly mess of sniffles and whimpers and he shushes her, brushing a thumb over her clit. She gasps lowly and he laughs.

“On your belly.”

This time, Y/N doesn’t defy him and Harry is admittedly surprised. She buries her face in the throw pillow and he rolls his eyes at the theatrics. Before picking the paddle up off the floor, his blunt fingertips scratch at her scalp, gentle and kind as they trail down to the nape of her neck. 

“What’s your color, kitten?” he asks softly, rubbing a docile palm over her bare ass.

“Green, sir.”

“Do you still want to try the paddle?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay,” he murmurs, “We’ll start with five and then see where you’re at. You know what to say if you want me to stop, right?”

“Red or licorice, sir.”

“Good girl.”

Since it’s her first time, he decides to ease her into it. He uses only a smidgen of his strength to smack the paddle against the thick of her cheek, watching as the wood ricochets. Her skin jiggles in response and he swallows, noting the way her nails already dig into the couch.

The second and third are just as light but he adds a bit more pressure to the fourth and fifth. When he’s finished, he rubs over the flush skin, slow and intentional.

“How was that?” he asks. 

“Good,” she replies, her voice slightly muffled from the pillow, “I can take more.”

A hand quickly finds its way to the back of her neck and her eyes instantly widen. He shifts her head, smushing her cheek into the soft fabric so her voice is no longer dulled. 

“Need to hear you loud and clear,” Harry says. “And now you’ll count for me.”

When the oak paddle makes contact with her ass for the sixth time, she grits her teeth but still calls out the number. She follows suit for the next five and, while it’s painful and harsh in the most uncomfortable of ways, she’d be lying if she said her skin didn’t feel like it was on fire. She’s burning for him, feeling her arousal leak down between the apex of her thighs with every last spank. 

“Good job, kitten,” Harry announces, dropping the paddle at the end of the set. “You did good, hm? Did the bratty girl learn her lesson?”

Y/N’s bottom lip juts out in a pout when his soft palms begin to soothe her aching bum. He instantly takes notice, wrinkling his eyebrows in confusion. 

“Can’t give you anymore tonight, kitten. It was only your first time.”

Instead of replying, she simply shakes her head.

“Use your words. I’m not a mindreader, brat.”

Swallowing, she lifts her head up slightly, only enough to give her a peek of Harry’s concerned expression. 

“W-wanna cum,” she mumbles, blinking at him, “Will you make me cum, sir?”

And instead of immediately getting what she wants, Harry does the unthinkable.

He rolls his eyes.

“You act like a slutty brat all night, begging to get paddled, and now you want me to make you cum?” 

She nods, ashamed and embarrassed.

“What the fuck makes you think you deserve that?”

“I-I took my spankings and paddlings without complaining. And I didn’t disobey you a-after that.”

“But you did defy me to begin with, didn’t you?” he pushes, weaving his hand into the hair at the back of her head. His fist tightens and he lifts her head so her neck cranes back. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And now you want to cum.”

“Yes, sir.”

“But not only do you want to cum— you want me to make you cum.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fine then,” he decides, sitting down and leaning back against the couch cushions. “Come here. Straddle me.”

She forces herself onto her knees and ignores the way her ass and pussy both sting from her punishments. Right now, all she can focus on is her buzzing clit and its need for attention. 

She does as she’s told and splits her thighs to fit his own legs between them. Almost instantly, he cups a hand beneath her mouth and glares at her expectantly. 

“Spit, brat. Are you dumb?”

She shakes her head, allowing saliva to pool behind her lips before spitting it into his palm. With his eyes staring into hers, he lowers his spit-slick hand down to her mound and pushes a finger inside of her. Immediately, she clenches around it, her eyes threatening to flutter shut.

“Keep them open,” he instructs, “Jesus, your cunt is already milking me.”

She swallows and forces herself to maintain eye contact with the man sitting before her. He’s merciless in his ministrations, especially when he nestles a second, then a third finger and curls them up to her most sensitive spot. Her hands form tight fists as she grinds against his hand, moaning loudly when his thumb reaches her clit. 

“What a desperate little pussy,” he murmurs, speeding up the tight circles over the swollen bundle of nerves, “You like getting stretched out, don’t you? Say it.”

“I-I love when you stretch me out, sir.”

“Of course you do,” he smirks viciously, “Is your cunt gonna cum like this?”

“Y-yes, sir—”

“Ask for permission first, kitty.”

“Please sir, can I cum? P-please?”

She’s whimpery and mewling as she bounces helplessly on his fingers, the ribbon in her lower stomach threatening to unravel at any given moment. He hums, stilling the digits inside of her.

“Hold it.”

“Sir—”

“Hold it, brat.”

Her pussy clenches around him but she does. She restrains herself until he finally allows the ribbon to come undone, a slew of whines and curses sounding from her plush lips as she does.

It feels like it goes on forever but when the pleasure finally ceases, she collapses into his chest. Harry gently pulls his fingers from her center and wraps an arm around her waist, giving it a gentle, loving squeeze. 

He lets her stay like that for a bit and, maybe selfishly, he enjoys having her limp, exhausted body so close to his. 

“Gotta clean you up and rub some salve on your bum,” he finally manages out, ducking down to whisper the words in her ear. 

Tiredly, she nuzzles her head against his shoulder. “Five more minutes?”

He swallows. 

He doesn’t think she’s in her subspace, but he knows she’s sleepy and fuzzy from the mix of pain and pleasure he just instilled on her body.

And so for that, he’ll give her five more minutes.

Six, if she’s lucky.

#writing #harry styles #bffrry #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles filth #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles smutty fanfic #harry's house #hs4 #harry's house album #fine line #one direction #harry styles fic rec #harry styles angst #harry styles drabble

[runningthroughthegarden]

dumb young love

1.9k words, summary: when art leaves you in the dust for tashi, a part of you breaks. after an argument art realizes how desperately in love he is with you.

request from @fangirlinc :)

you had gone and done the one thing everyone had warned you not to do. you had fallen in love with your best friend. i mean how could you not? he was handsome, charming, talented, funny, everything you could want in a man and more. you both had such bright futures ahead of you and just loved being in each others company. which is why you never felt the need to profess your love to him. but lately you've been rethinking this choice. 

you obviously knew how close art and patrick were, i mean you guys all practically grew up with each other. this dynamic never really bothered you, why would it? that all changed once tashi came into the picture. 

you had been there, at the match where it all started. you had come to support them like you always had, but within those few days something had shifted and you had no idea why. suddenly the boys were ditching you to go to a party you didn't even know they cared about. 

they had come back to you the next day, raving about how amazing tashi was and the night they spent together. you noticed a glint in art’s eye that wasn't there before, and you tried your hardest to suppress the jealousy you were feeling. 

that day, when patrick won the match, you couldn't help but feel relieved that art would remain yours just for a little longer. what you didn't realize is that art didnt care if patrick was with tashi, because he was still head over heels for her.

 

“hey are we gonna have dinner tonight?” you ask, throwing another tennis ball over the net.

“yeah, just gotta get back to my room and shower” art replies, hitting back the ball with a distraught look on his face. 

“is it tashi?” you sigh.

“what? no-no. i'm just stressed about my next match” he replies, walking over to the bench. 

“you're art donaldson. you’re never stressed about a match. c'mon just tell me” you say as you walk over to him. 

“its just. patrick called and all he can fucking talk about is how amazing tashi is. and then i walk around campus and all i hear is how amazing tashi is. no matter what i do i can’t escape her.” he confesses, putting his head in his hands.

“i can’t imagine you ever wanting to escape her” you reply, letting out a forced laugh. 

“what?” 

“cmon art, from the day you lost that match it’s like your entire world changed or something. i mean all of a sudden your whole life revolves around this girl” you scoff. 

“y/n i really don’t need this shit from you, i’ll see you later” he scoffs, picking up his bag and leaving the court. 

“art!” you call out, only for him to leave you there alone.

standing there you think back to when everything was fine. how art would link his pinky with yours as you walked. the way he would call you everyday when he had to travel for matches. the nights you spent in his dorm trying to cram week's worth of studying into one night. the way he would so effortlessly plant kisses to your forehead. the moments you thought he might actually be in love with you. but now all you had were those memories. 

 

before you knew it, all art was doing was hanging out and helping tashi train. he had been your training partner first, so it hurt like hell to be left in the dust. you decided to try and let it go and focus on winning your matches. your most important match was coming up and you couldn't let your silly love life get in the way. the one person you had always dreamed of being coached by was going to be at your match. so you knew you had to train like crazy to get to work with them. 

a part of you was hoping maybe art would see how amazing your match would be, and finally start paying attention to you again. but you knew you were holding onto false hope. 

 

the day of your match had finally come, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t scared. this was such an important moment for your career and you couldn't shake those nerves. but you knew seeing art up in the stands would give you the boost of confidence you needed. 

the first set was about to start and you still didn’t see art in the stands. you felt your heart skip a beat at the thought that he might not show up. he would never do that to you. right? 

the first set had started and for a moment, the world around you started to fade. you may have hated tashi, but man was she right about tennis. you were performing flawlessly and you knew all the hard work was finally going to pay off. 

after winning your first set, you go back to your seat, taking a breather and still scanning the crowd for art. he was still nowhere to be found and you could feel your sadness turning into anger. deciding to use that as fuel, you prepare yourself for your next set. the rest of the game goes flawlessly and you know this is the best you have ever played. 

hitting the winning point, you stand in shock as cheers come from the stands. thanking your opponent you can’t seem to wipe the smile off your face. that is until you spot art in the stands. you could feel all the anger and resentment you suppressed fighting to be released. this had been your best game yet, and there art was, to ruin it.

packing up your bag, you felt a presence behind you. all spectators and coaches were long gone so you knew exactly who was behind you. turning around to face art, you push past him not wanting to hear a word he has to say. 

“y/n please i-” art calls out, quickly catching up with you.

“you what art?!” you yell, turning around to face him.

“you forgot? you had homework? you lost track of time? oh better yet, maybe you were with tashi?” you continue, looking up at him. you could feel hot tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

he stays silent and thats all the answer you need. 

“oh my god you were” you whisper, stepping back from him. 

“please just let me explain” art pleads, a look of desperation you’d never seen before. 

“today was the most important day to me. and i really thought that as my best friend you would at least care a little more. but i know where your priorities lay. and i'm done fighting for a spot i’ll never get” you say as tears quickly spill onto your cheeks. 

art’s hand reaches up to brush away your tears, but you step back. 

“stay the fuck away from me art” you choke out, quickly walking back to your room. 

 

the next few days were hell. spending each day crying in your bed, you had lost not only the love of your life but your best friend. you had gotten a call offering to be coached by someone you could only ever dream of working with. you should’ve felt happy, ecstatic even, but the last conversation you had with art was still ringing through your head. he had called you far too many times and texted you even more. but you had ignored every single one. the first day he came knocking on your door, but gave up after an hour of waiting. the apology flowers he had sent you sat on your desk. you had no idea what you were going to do. until, you got a text from patrick. 

patrick 

hi love, art told me about what happened im sorry. 

y/n

hi, you don’t have to apologize for him being stupid

patrick

do you want to hang out today? try to get your mind off of him

y/n 

actually i would love to

patrick 

meet me outside at 2

getting ready to see patrick was a highlight from these past few days. while you were enjoying your sulking you knew you had to get out at some point. going out to the courtyard, you see patrick sitting on a picnic blanket. your favorite foods and snacks were neatly laid next to him. you felt yourself genuinely smiling for the first time in a really long time. you spent the next hour eating your favorite meal and laughing at stupid shit with patrick. although your heart still hurt, you could feel your spirits rising. 

“thank you for this patrick, it’s all so lovely” you smile. 

“of course i’ll always be here for you” he gleams, pushing away the hair around your face and leaning in to kiss your forehead. 

“what the fuck?!” 

you would recognize that voice anywhere. 

“art what are you doing here?” patrick stands up to face him. 

“oh i dont know maybe i go to school here? what the fuck are you doing here patrick?!” he replies, getting closer to patrick. 

“seriously y/n? you run off to patrick?” he questions, obviously distraught but you can't seem to place why. 

“hey you don’t get to blame her for this” patrick replies. 

“oh fuck off patrick would you let her speak” 

grabbing arts hand, you quickly lead him away from the public spectacle this was all becoming. 

“what the hell is wrong with you art?” you yell, shutting your room door. 

“i mean, you completely forgot about me for some other girl and now you're mad at me? none of this makes sense, you broke my heart. you don't get to be angry.” you continue, feeling tears brim your eyes. 

he paces for a second, running his hands through the curls you missed so much. 

“im in love with you” he stops, looking down at you. 

it felt like you were dreaming, like you were imagining the words that just came out of his mouth. 

“i always have been. i've just been so stupid about it. when tashi came around i threw myself at her because i thought there was no way you would ever feel that way towards me. and i know i fucked up by doing that, i really really fucked up. but when i picture my life i see you, i've only ever seen you. and seeing you with patrick, i was scared i lost you. i'm sorry y/n, i really am. i would do anything to take it back.” he confesses. 

“you’re so stupid!” you yell, pushing his shoulders. 

“ive been in love with you for like, forever!” you look up at him, confused as to how he never realized. 

“really?” he asks, pure shock all over his face. 

“yes! i thought it was obvious” you frown. 

before you knew it he was holding your face in his hands, planting a kiss on your lips. in that moment everything felt right, like the stars had aligned. 

“y’know i'm still mad at you” you look up at him, placing your hands over his. 

“trust me, i will do everything to make it up to you. i'm just glad you're finally mine” he couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off his face as he kissed you again. 

#mike faist #mike faist x reader #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson #challengers

[inkykeiji]

⋆₊˚⊹♡ 𝐡𝐚𝐳𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐧 + 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

characters: vox, val, alastor, lucifer warnings: implied smut in some; 18+ minors do not interact, daddy kink (+ papi for val), toxic relationships, pet/master dynamic (for alastor), reader is a bit of a brat with vox, implied drugging the night before (val), praise + pet names, fem!reader, reader is carried in val’s words: 2.7k

₊˚⊹ 𝐯𝐨𝐱 ⊹˚₊

You love mornings with your Daddy—truly, you do; love waking up next to him, slow and soft as his fingertips outline your features; love eating breakfast with him, feet kicking back and forth on one of the barstools as he prepares something simple for the two of you, know that he had to pull teeth to get the mornings off of work so he could spend them with you, getting you ready for the day and seeing you off—but there is one part, right at the very end, that you absolutely despise. 

Like everything with Vox, dental hygiene is a meticulous procedure, a rigorous routine with a set of immutable steps to be followed in the exact order Vox has laid them out in—carved into concrete, set in stone.

And, like everything else with Vox, no one knows how to perform them correctly except for him.

Still, it isn’t like you ever make it easy for him.

What else could he expect from his little troublemaker, really?

“Open up.” 

A thumb and a forefinger clamp down on the hinges of your jaw, palm wreathed around your chin, and squeeze, popping your mouth open with practiced efficiency.

“Daddy,” the word comes out as a stringy whine, slightly garbled, face crumpling in petulance. “Dun wanna.” 

Jerking a little in his grasp, you try to pull away from the advancing toothbrush slathered with translucent teal gel, and Vox clicks his tongue. 

“And I don’t care,” he says simply, fingers flexing in warning. “Good little girls need to brush their teeth—especially if they’ve eaten two bowls of sugary cereal for breakfast.” 

“But—”

Vox pulls back, face flattened into something serious. “Do you want cavities eating holes in your teeth?” 

“No—”

“Didn’t think so. Now hold still and let Daddy do this for you, yeah?” 

A groan vibrates on the back of your tongue, but your body goes pliant in his grasp, chin leaning into his pillowy palm.

“Atta girl,” he murmurs to himself, a small smug smile on his face.

Warmth blossoms in your chest, swells your lungs and stretches your ribs as you droop a little more beneath his praise and he chuckles, a fond little melody playing on his tongue, grip tightening infinitesimally. 

And he’s so precise with it all, maneuvers painstakingly perfect as he tilts your head one way, then the other, sure to scrub each tooth thoroughly, bristles scouring in little circular motions as he cleanses.

“Aaaah,” he hums, mimicking the action as he pries his mouth open wider, another praise falling from his lips as you instantly obey, allowing him to reach the molars at the very back of your mouth—brushing on top, on either side, behind, then on top again. 

“Tongue out.” 

Another whine sticks in your throat, brows pushing together and crinkling your forehead, open mouth downturned in a frown with a slight shake of your head, struggling against his hold.

“Come, now,” Vox chastises, but his voice is hard, fortified with a subtle threat. “You were doing so well for me—don’t start acting up, Daddy’s almost done.” 

His gaze holds yours steadily, a single eyebrow raising in question—are you really going to test me?—and you cave, again.

Reluctantly, your tongue unfurls from your mouth, face still scrunched in irritation as he scrapes the bristles across the muscle, working up a healthy lather, refusing to cease until that telltale disgruntled whine claws at your throat, evoking another one of those patronizing little chuckles.

“Alright, alright,” he’s pacifying as he tips a glass to your lips, a palm cupped protectively beneath your chin. “Rinse.” 

And, Christ, he loves how fucking obedient you are, even as the urge to misbehave bubbles behind your ribs, lips set in a deep pout as you follow his instructions, swishing a mouthful of water between your cheeks, waiting perfect and patient for his next order. 

“Spit.”

Oh, so compliant, so disciplined you are as you instantly spew blue liquid down the drain, a fierce sense of pride, of ownership, igniting deep within his soul, blazing bright and hot and strong, reflected in the amplified glowing of his eyes.

Your features are still scrunched up in a cute little pout, glaring at him through your lashes, arms crossed tightly over your chest.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” A thumb runs along your forehead, attempting to iron out the crease between your brows in a gentle caress.

“It was awful.” 

“Fucking brat.” 

And he just can’t help but laugh out the word, the sting the insult should bring instantly negated by the tender affection it’s smothered in, turned soft and melty on his tongue.

No, you never make such endeavours painless for him, but you do always make them interesting, and for that, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

₊˚⊹ 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐨 ⊹˚₊

It’s late in the afternoon when Val decides it’s time to get up, deep crimson light spilling through the narrow gaps in his thick curtains and painting thin, long strokes across the shag carpet.

He doesn’t bother formally waking you as two of his hands scoop you from the nest of silk and cradle you to his body, chuckling out a coo as you automatically snuggle into his chest, legs latching around his waist. 

The haze of sleep still hangs heavy in your skull, a soft protest grumbled into his skin as he carries you somewhere, lids staying firmly glued shut, body beginning to melt into his again as the bliss of unconsciousness entices you with promises of whimsical dreams and relief from your aching muscles. 

Cold marble stings your bare thighs suddenly, forcing a small jolt through your form, a soft hiss exhaled from between your teeth.

“I know, I know, it’s cold,” Val pacifies, his voice a pleasant fog curling around your cheeks as he leans around you, tinkering with something.  

“Papi,” you whimper, reaching blindly for him, lethargic head falling forward, forehead pressed tightly to his sternum.

“Mmm, I’m here,” he murmurs distractedly, two of his hands still wrapped firmly around your hips as the other set busy themselves with uncapping a tube of toothpaste.

“Wanna go back to bed,” you slur out in a whine, nose nuzzling into his chest, fruitlessly looking for a place to rest your head, dense drowsiness curling the edges of your mind.

“But it’s time to get up, princesa,” he chides gently, a finger tracing the curve of your cheek. “You’ve been asleep for fourteen hours.” 

“M’still tired.” 

A hum of contemplation vibrates at the back of his tongue as a hand twines around your jaw, examining your face this way, then that, before tilting your chin up.

“Maybe I gave you a little too much last night,” he muses to himself through a dark snicker. “It’s kinda cute that you’re still this fucked up, though. Can’t even open your eyes for me, can you?” 

And you try, really, you do, attempting to heft your leaden lids, features screwing up cutely with the immense effort, and Val coos again, as if your intoxication is so pathetically precious—poor little girl can barely handle her Daddy’s drugs! How sweet.

“Well, that’s okay,” he purrs, first pair of hands slipping further beneath his dress shirt—a makeshift nightgown, his favourite nightgown on you—and tugging you closer to the counter’s edge. “You don’t have to worry your pretty little head about anything; Papi will do it for you.” 

A sound of indignation sticks in your throat as you finally pry your eyes open, squinting against the harsh light of the bathroom, bleary gaze fixed on the sparkly pink toothbrush in one of his hands, face rumpling into a pout. 

Your lips press into a tight, firm line, sealing your mouth against the rapidly advancing utensil as your eyes slip shut again, weighted with narcotic-laced exhaustion, head shaking in messy little motions.

“C’mon, be co-operative,” the points of his nails dig into your skin, hard enough to leave superficial indents—a warning. “Don’t upset Daddy this early in the day, baby.” 

Wrenching your eyes open again, your nose twitches with a sniffle, chin beginning to quiver.

“But—But—Do I have to?”

“Yes, you have to,” he says, but his voice trembles with the effort to stay calm, to stay pleasant. “Your mouth is very dirty from last night, and it needs to be cleaned.”

A thick torrent of tears rush to cloud your vision, sudden and stinging, a hiccup stuttering your chest. The hand curved around your jaw tightens, yanking your face toward his own, foreheads knocking together.

“Now, open, before I make you open.”

Your jaw falls slack, a slave to his orders, unable to disobey a direct demand from its owner, and Val purrs, something wicked unravelling on his face, smile stretched sharp and sleazy from edge to edge, the glow in his eyes flaring with your instant compliance.

“Good girl.”

₊˚⊹ 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 ⊹˚₊

Alastor, you’ve come to learn, has a plethora of odd regimes; stringently scheduled customs that are non-negotiable, that extend to you, including brushing your teeth. 

It’s become routine, now—habitual, as most things with Alastor are—and your days no longer feel right without it; weird, off, incomplete. 

Because it’s become something of a comfort; something so simple, yet so intimate, something calming and rewarding, something to look forward to—a moment shared between the two of you, twice a day, once at the beginning, and once at the end. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” you try tell him, the first time he insists on doing it, trying desperately to look over your shoulder as he ushers you into his ensuite.

“Nonsense!” he waves a hand in dismissal. “It isn’t a problem at all. Now, sit.” 

“Alastor—”

“Sit.” 

With a tiny frown, you perch gingerly on the edge of the bathtub, fingers curling around the rim.

“I’m serious,” you murmur, teeth nibbling superficially at the skin of your lip, wary eyes watching as he flits with practiced ease around the bathroom, a twinge of confusion settling in your chest, something akin to shame sitting thick and bitter on the back of your tongue. “I can do it myself…” 

“I know you can,” he replies simply, focused on depositing a strip of white toothpaste on your toothbrush. 

“Then…” you blink up at him, watching him advance with wide eyes, shoulders shrinking as he blankets you in his shadow. “Why are you doing it for me?” 

Irritation twitches at the edges of his grin, Alastor exhaling a controlled sigh.

“Because,” he begins, keeping his voice light, taking your chin between his index finger and thumb. “A good Master takes proper care of his pet.” 

His grip strengthens, tilting your face up further, his form looming over your own as you sit, vulnerable and exposed, beneath his touch. Crimson eyes glow as they scour your face, his back bent at an uncomfortable angle as he practically curls around you, the scent of earth and cedar tinged with copper wafting across your face with his calm, even breaths. 

“Besides,” he continues, voice dropped an octave lower, his nose nearly nudging yours. “I couldn’t possibly trust you to do it adequately.” 

A cruel little chuckle plays on his tongue, as if the mere thought itself is preposterous, the sound stinging as it seeps into your cheeks, hot and full of spikes. 

“Now, open.” 

Instantly, your mouth falls agape, and Alastor’s smile stretches infinitesimally wider, a sharp glint flaring in his eyes.

“A good owner maintains their pet’s hygiene,” he explains as he works, gaze fixed intently on his actions, cleansing with a meticulous sort of vigilance. “Bathes them, grooms them, dresses them—performs all of the basic necessities a pet needs to appear presentable.”

His hand shifts slightly, angling your head to the side, and you follow easily, malleable in his grasp, his smile shimmering. 

“And I pride myself on taking very good care the things that belong to me.”

And, really, he does. Because Alastor doesn’t just brush your teeth with rigorous care, conscientiously certain to cleanse every dip and gap; he flosses them, too, with gentle hands and painstaking precision, then ensures you’ve rinsed with germ-killing, enamel-strengthening mouthwash for exactly forty-five seconds, counting uniformly and observing with large, unblinking eyes as you adhere to his every instruction, cheeks bulging with burning liquid, eyes squinting from the intensity, but never daring to blink, to glance away, to stop at all. 

“Look at you,” he purrs after you’ve spit down the drain, gazing back up at him with a sort of desperate devotion—demented, devious, damned to his hell—syrupy condescension dripping from his teeth. “So well behaved for me, aren’t you?”  

A palm cups your jaw, his thumb running across your cheek in rhythmic strokes, the tip of his claw caressing your skin with just enough pressure to leave behind shallow scratches. 

“What, hoping Master will give you a treat for being so obedient?” 

“No, Sir,” you whimper out, voice gone dreamy as you nuzzle into his hand. “You taking such good care of me is more than enough.” 

Something sinister oozes into his face, something that contorts his smile and corrodes his eyes, leaving behind nothing but raw hunger, like he’s about to devour you whole, pops of static fizzing thickly in his voice. 

“That’s my good girl.” 

₊˚⊹ 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 ⊹˚₊

Everything hurts, muscles stiff and aching and full of sand, your motions clumsy and cumbersome as you attempt to brush your teeth, joints creaking with every slight shift.

Fatigue blurs the edges of your eyes, your vision fading out of focus again, mind gone fuzzy as you try your best to concentrate on your movements—up, down, all around, repeat—features screwing up in a wince as you catch the harsh bristles on your gums, again. 

“You’re making a bit of a mess, sleepyhead,” Lucifer’s tender chuckle pulls you from your foggy stupor, a quiet hum vibrating in your throat as you look over at him in question, the gesture lethargic and delayed. 

“You’ve got some—Here,” he says softly, hands curling around your shoulders and turning you to face him, then tilting your chin up. “May I?”

Another affirmative sounds on the back of your tongue and Lucifer uses his thumb to carefully clean the foaming paste collecting at the corners of your mouth, then catching a slow dribble streaming down your chin with a deft knuckle. 

A frown mars his face, his forehead creasing beneath the strain, his other hand stroking your shoulder as worried eyes search your face, slow and careful.

“Is everything okay, sweetheart?” he asks. “You’re really struggling to brush your teeth.”

“Jus—really tired,” you mumble through the bubbles in your mouth, Lucifer skillfully catching another trickle of watery paste, concern tugging at the corners of his lips, frown deepening.

“Do you want me to do it for you?” 

Sleepy eyes blink up at him, slow and sluggish, your hazy mind taking a moment to process the question.

“Mhmm,” you finally nod, hand loosening the instant his fingers skim yours, allowing him to gently uncurl your grip from around the base of your toothbrush, his own effortlessly taking its place. 

“Alright, alright, Daddy will help you,” he’s pacifying in a murmur, but his gaze has turned melty, glow dimmed and pupils gaping, lids heavy with love. “Poor thing…Last night was a long night for you, huh?” 

“S’a lot,” you confirm in a messy mumble, lids drooping heavily with the weight of exhaustion.

“Yeah?” his thumb rubs loving little circles into your jaw as he works, gaze trained on his task. “Was Daddy a little too rough with you?” 

The question is uttered out tenderly, full of sympathy and care, his brow furrowing as his eyes flit back to yours, searching for veracity in your pupils.

“Maybe I should be a bit gentler next—”

“No!” you cough around the refusal, puffy lids snapping open suddenly, the unexpected vehemency causing Lucifer to flinch.

“No?” he laughs, and it’s warm with affection, his features, hard with worry, mollifying beneath fondness, amorous amusement twinkling daintily in his eyes. 

“No,” you whine out with a tiny pout, head shaking a little in his grasp. “Please.”

“Okay,” the pad of his thumb runs along your cheek, his stare trailing after it. “If nothing else, at least Daddy will always be there to take care of you the morning after.”

#alastor x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #vox x reader #valentino x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel drabble #lucifer smut #valentino smut #alastor x you #lucifer x you #vox x you #valentino x you #inky.hazbin

[landograndprix]

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ viii

part seven - part nine

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ lando is here for the good, the bad and the ugly.

➪ mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ they are in fact my babies your honor 🥺 said I was gonna go super sweet, fluffy cute which okay..it still is but with a lil' spice 😇

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y/nusername

📍 Nice, France

liked by landonorris, manon_roux and 534,767 others

y/nusername ☀days

tagged; landonorris, milliexoxo

view all 1,645 comments

milliexoxo how about you delete that picture? It's taken without my consent?!

↳ y/nusername just capturing the moments where you're the sweetest

milliexoxo I will quit my job

charliecharlie you should find a real job instead

milliexoxo girl why would i when I can stay with a rich, hot milf, her cute ass daughter and occasionally her sugar daddy?

bott_ass not millie calling lando a sugar daddy 😂

charliecharlie she didn't say it was lando 🙄

bott_ass bffr are you blind?

yourmumsuser pretty zoë 😍😍

manon_roux the happiest baby on earth 🥺

norrizz just casually laying in the same bed lmfao

↳ chilisainz jesus christ, so I'm not allowed to lay in the same bed as my guy friends anymore?

norrizz girl relax, I actually love them together as friends or more I didn't mean for it to sound so negative 😭

lando4norris c'mon lads, they are not just friends anymore and I hope they get treated well by each other after the shitty partners they had before

hamilt44n please adopt me :(

landonorris my little tiger 🐯

↳ milliexoxo I'm pretty sure that's a panther pattern my guy 🐆

y/nusername time to take you both back to the zoo because that's a leopard pattern

milliexoxo we've got miss know-it-all over here you guys!

norry4 millie, leave your mother alone 😭

carlandooo what is this little family dynamic and why do I want to be a part of it?

norrislandooo why are we all ignoring lando calling zoë MY little tiger????? 😭

charlos16 lmfao my girl saw the pictures of Charles and Noelle and decided to show life is fucking amazing without them, good for her!

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y/nusername posted to their story

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y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 501,002 others

y/nusername home² 🏡

view all 1,989 comments

chilisainz y'all remember that weak ass bouquet she got from Charles couple months back? 💀

↳ norry4 was thinking about that as well, my girl really had an upgrade in her men :')

yourmumsuser 😍❤️❤️

hannahh truly living the good life 😩

yukisan please let us know how how the books are if you've finished them!

yesrislando charles lurking in the likes

↳ charlesgirlies probably because that's his daughter as well 🙄

yesrislando does Charles know it's his daughter though? 🥺

milliexoxo come home, the kids (me) are missing you

↳ sharl16 damn, sugar daddy really took your sugar mommy away from you? 😭

landonorris pretty ladies 😍

↳ norrizz almost chocked on my tea oml this is everything to me 😭

norry4 I actually need them to be together!!!

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Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew

#lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x you #charles leclerc x you #lando norris #charles leclerc #lando norris fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #lando x reader #charles x reader

[sugoi-and-spice]

Vox Relationship Headcanons

Time to strike the iron while the hyperfixation is HOT!

(I mean come ON . Look at this fucking evil dork. I love him).

SFW

It goes without saying that Vox is HUGE on appearances. He does not make his relationships public lightly. His brand as one of the V’s after all is perfection, and he’s not going to go out arm and arm with a person unless they know that.

That being said, especially given his on again off again relationship with Valentino, I could absolutely see him as being the type to fall for a hot mess. 

A very different person with his partner in front of and behind the scenes. When the cameras are off, he’s warm, affectionate, and vulnerable. He’ll share his every insecurity with you, strip himself bare to the bone for you to love and comfort truly and honestly. And he’s an excellent listener too, always available to hold and talk through any problem you have. Your problems are his problems — you’ll work through them together.

When in the public eye however, he can be a downright prick — putting everything, and I do mean everything between you two on the backburner to keep up appearances. He will not hesitate to make jokes at your expense if it means his ratings will go up.

Fights with him are explosive. No, he’s not the type to lay a hand on you, but we’d be lying if we didn’t admit that he can scream at you within an inch of your life.

Words of Affirmation and Gift Giving are his primary love languages. Specifically, he needs words of affirmation and he loves to give gifts. And holy shit does he give the most uncomfortably lavish gifts. Diamonds, rolexes, new cars — no price is too high for his darling.

Surprisingly, he prefers home dates. Watching a movie on the couch or having a little game night with a bottle of wine. He does genuinely enjoy the authentic time you spend together and he wishes he could have more of it, so the more he can get of that private, intimate time together, the better.

And while he is a man of the future, so theoretically should like video games, I do think he has a certain soft spot for a good old-fashioned board game.

When it comes to video games though, he does tend to gravitate to phone games. 

Vox is from the 1950’s so I do think he prefers a more nuclear family and relationship dynamic. He wants to bring home the bacon and have his partner ready to fry it up in a pan with a dirty martini ready and waiting for him. That being said, he is a man that always looks to the future as well, so he’s by no means above doing chores of his own. At the end of the day, this desire for more traditional relationship roles really comes from a place of needing to be doted on rather than any views he actually has about gender.

The man’s a sucker for a good massage from his partner. This wired up workaholic has knots that you can’t even imagine, so please, offer him a nice bankrupt at the end of the day. He’ll be sure to return the favor tenfold.

A very lovey-dovey drunk. Oh my GOD, he’s so touchy-feely and weepy and just all the y’s. You want a guaranteed cuddle-wuddle session? Load him up with a couple glasses of scotch — you’ll have those chords coiling around you.

And yes, his alcohol of choice is scotch. Scotch, dirty martinis, or a nice oaky chardonnay.

This man wants to get married. Yes, even if he is in hell, the idea of not having to worry about who his next lay or source of connection will come from, having someone that will stand by his side through thick and thin, a partner? Now that’d be the (after)life.

NSFW

BIG fucking praise kink. This man NEEDS you to stroke more than just his bod and his cock, he needs you to stroke his ego too.

“God you’re so good”, “FUCK, you’re so big”, “Nobody can make me feel this way but you, Vox”.

Don’t worry, it’s not just for his own ego. He loves to give praise as much as he receives it. This man is a TALKER in the sack.

“Fuck, fuck yeah. Just like that, baby. You’re so fucking good, just like thaaaaat.”

He’s also got a little bit of a degradation kink — but in general, it still feeds into stroking his own ego. Loves to tease and taunt his partner once in a while about what a horny little slut they are, how he loves to see them so desperate and pathetic. Asking his partner, “you’d have anyone right now, wouldn’t you?” just for them to assure him that no, nobody but him will do.

On that note, the man can dish out degrading dirty talk, but he can NOT fucking take it.

Very much a switch. Sure, he loves to fuck, but he’ll just as happily let his partner bend him over his own desk and fuck the shit out of him. A good orgasm is a good orgasm, his ego may be big, but not big enough to get in the way of that.

Big fan of bondage, both on his partner and himself. There are few sights better to him than seeing his partner bound and shibari’d in his own cord and wires, holy shit. But he’ll also never say no when his partner breaks out their own pair of fuzzy handcuffs for him.

He absolutely short-circuits when he cums, so watch out. Sometimes, if he cums hard enough, he may just zap you a bit so watch out.

Favorite position is seated cowgirl. He loves the way he can hold his partner close while ramming as deep into them as possible. Not to mention the fact that either one of them can take over control at any moment. He can thrust up, they can grind down — it’s just the best of all worlds. Not to mention you can do it from his desk chair.

On that note, he’s a big BIG fan of cockwarming. 

LOTS of precum. This HD motherfucker is just a weepy mess.

I can’t explain why, but Vox just seems like an ass man to me.

He’s not necessarily a cuddler after, but he is something of a “savor the moment” kind of guy. He likes to lay in bed (or chair lol) with his partner for a good while afterwards, smoking a cigarette, reveling in some post-nut clarity conversation, just really taking in the moment. His life is so busy at all other times honestly, always looing and speeding to the future. Sex and post-sex are the times where he really does just like to stop and live in the moment.

#vox #vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #vox x you #vox x oc #smut #spice writes

[redmyeyes]

Fellow Travelers sex scenes

I can't stop thinking about what Matt and Jonny keep repeating over and over again in interviews, regarding the FT sex scenes. That, in the writing and filming it was important that:

No two scenes were the same.

Every sex scene informed the story.

The characters were not the same before the scene as they were after. That they were changed by it.

So, let's talk about them.

"Pretend"

establishment of hawk's usual modus operandi -- brief fucks with strangers. he keeps a tight rein on his desires and won't allow himself to want more.

2. "Fold them."

establishing dynamics, hawk is in control, tim is being (happily) led. par for the course for hawk (or is it?)

3. "I'm your boy, right?"

tim can play, too. this dynamic is not one-way. the 'power' in this relationship definitely does not lie solely with hawk. you might even say this flips the power dynamic on its head. hawk is GONE.

4. "Do you like it this way? Your life, like this?"

not a sex scene, but one of the first slow, tender aftermaths. clear now that, for both of them, this goes much much deeper than just sex.

5. "I belong to Hawkins Fuller."

tim showing that he's willing to meet hawk on his level. the submission and dominance are so intertwined here they can't be separated. it's the willingness of that submission, the willingness of that Belonging, that changes everything.

and tim begging (through provocation) hawk to acknowledge him / what they have, out loud. "who do you belong to" = "i love you, i need you, tell me you need me too."

6. "It's your turn tonight."

a fucked-up goodbye, on hawk's part. he really thinks this might be the last time he's allowed to see tim, and he says 'i love you' the only way he knows how -- with his body, with service.

7. "Your Honor, I stand before you accused of being sweet."

crucially, not a sex scene. even more crucially, there is no sex at all in episode 5, where they separate for the first (and, they think, last) time. instead, we're shown what they're really giving up -- this too sweet (painfully sweet) domesticity.

8. "We don't have to do what we used to do."

the horribly empty aftermath. where they give in to "sex", of a sort, but it's dry and horrifically painful and NOT AT ALL what either of them want. because what they want is intimacy, not sex. and they're not allowed this.

9. "Stay with me."

the botched threesome, where craig is an afterthought, an excuse for hawk and tim to be together, and even then, horrifically painful in the way they LONG for each other and for what they can't have.

10. "I want you to fuck me."

a true surrender. again, hawk showing what he wants the only way he knows how -- through his body -- giving tim his willing submission, body, heart and soul.

11. "We'll be colleagues. We'll see each other every day."

not technically a sex scene, but the truest expression of them 'making love' that we ever get on screen. returning to #1, it's the polar opposite of what hawk had previously allowed himself, and it's what he really wants -- all the intimacy he'll shortly be sacrificing.

12. "That better?" "Oh yeah."

finally, finally, after all those years, a return to the true intimacy they were craving.

#can i just add how much i ADORE that they left 1957 for the end? #it's the clearest view we have of their missed potential -- of everything they COULD have had 😭 #fellow travelers #fellowtravelersedit #ft meta #*

[hannieehaee]

Imagine workaholic gf!reader of equally workaholic bf!woozi where they both take a few days leave to enjoy each other and book a luxurious honeymoon suite hotel room thinking they will have a lot of sex with their days off but instead end up with cuddling and lazy make out sessions because their exhaustion just swooshes over them owo

18+ / mdi

content: workaholic!woozi x workaholic!reader, afab reader, heavy mentions of smut, making out, very suggestive, etc.

wc: 1262

a/n: i can really picture jihoon dating a fellow workaholic lol anyways thank u for requesting<3

masterlist

"fuck, finally," you sighed in relief, letting yourself fall backwards onto the cool bed in the luxury hotel room jihoon had reserved.

after endless weeks of equally endless work, you finally had a week off, which jihoon had strategically coordinated with his own time off.

the two of you were extremely hard workers – to a fault. when jihoon bad first met you, he worried that maybe his addiction to constant work would eventually drive you away, yet somehow it had continued to keep you right by his side. you preferred that he was a workaholic, you had once told him. there had apparently been a few prior relationships in which your heavy workload had led to irreparable issues. jihoon being equally as busy as you allowed you to work without feeling guilt of leaving your partner behind – jihoon felt the exact same way.

despite the unspoken agreement the two of you had in regards to the dynamic of your relationship, it sometimes still got to you when you'd realize how little time you were able to spend with your boyfriend – once more, jihoon felt the exact same way.

your individual lives were already difficult to navigate, but making time for each other was even more complicated. your exhaustion was a whole different issue. working as much as the two of you did, it was understandable that you'd spend the lulls in your schedule resting as much as you could rather than with each other. it was a sad truth, but still remained a truth.

it wasn't as if you spent no time together, though. you'd always either see each other in the mornings (either through call or in person – depending on whether jihoon was in the country at the time or not) or at night, always making sure to love on one another as a reminder of the thriving affection in your relationship. you'd also dedicate one night per week to have a stay-at-home date night. everything was perfectly tailored to your relationship, and the two of you were more than happy with it.

these past few weeks had been the issue. as jihoon had a comeback and you had an important project at work, it was virtually impossible for you to see each other as of late. it got to you in all the worst ways, making you moody, irritable, tired, and even sexually frustrated. not only were you physically exhausted of the constant work, but you had been deprived of your daily dosage of jihoon. you had not slept together in weeks, nor had you even had a meal with each other. cuddling? completely out of the question with the insanely packed schedule you'd been having.

it all went like this for the both of you for a few weeks, up until everything managed to reach a standstill. you had a few days off, and jihoon had the ability to move some things around to match your time off. without so much as one word from you, jihoon had decided it was the perfect time to whisk you away on a private getaway at some luxury hotel of your choice.

jihoon wasnt really one to go out much, unbeknownst to you, but jihoon had been feeling extremely pent up from the last moment he got to have you all to himself. the short glimpses of you he managed to catch throughout the busy weeks were the only thing that had kept him going. the singular thought of the next time he'd he'd get to have you was the only thing occupying his mind. renting out a room for the week was the most obvious of choices to jihoon. he would finally get to explore the sheets with you.

upon arriving to the hotel, jihoon chuckled at how pleased you seemed with the place, immediately letting yourself loose on the bed and sighing in contentment. putting down the suitcases, jihoon joined you soon after, still fully clothed as he laid next to you, staring up at the ceiling.

"are you as tired as i am?", you asked him.

he hummed in affirmation, "yeah. what do you wanna do first?"

the unspoken agreement to utilize the week on sex had filled up the room before you had even arrived, so it was obvious what he was referring to.

"i'll take a quick bath first, okay, baby?", you said as you began to get up, stretching your muscles in the process.

"sure, baby. i'll head down to the gym for a bit to unwind then. i'll see you in about an hour, then?"

with a sweet peck, you bid your boyfriend goodbye, giddy to get yourself relaxed and perfumed so your boyfriend could help you destress under the sheets.

~

the bath had been a huge success in terms of getting you relaxed. after an hour lying in the warmest, bubbliest, comfiest water imaginable to man, you felt like a brand new person. accompanied by a lavender-scented bath bomb, a glass of wine and your favorite netflix show playing in the background, you got out of that bath in the best mood you'd been in in weeks.

the one downside was how incredibly relaxed the bath had gotten you. you were so relaxed, you could've fallen victim to endless slumber in that bathtub. as much as you needed jihoon to fuck you to sleep, you weren't sure how well you'd be able to perform if you tried to return the favor.

luckily for you, that would not be an issue.

upon walking back into the room, now donning some comfortable pajamas, you were met with the sight of a fully-asleep jihoon, cocooned between the sheets as he snored softly. the sight had you swooning with affection for the boy. he was the softest, most relaxing thing you had ever seen.

you couldn't help yourself in making your way to him, somehow maneuvering yourself into his arms and under the sheets, feeling more relaxed than ever.

before you could even close your eyes, the boy shuffled behind you, mumbling against your ear as he cuddled further into you.

"baby?", he mumbled.

"sorry, baby. did i wake you?"

"hmm, no you're fine. i meant to stay awake for you, but the bed's just so damn comfy," he chuckled breathily, "i took a quick shower downstairs to prepare for, you know, but fuck, i'm just so tired," he whined.

you turned around in his arms, facing him, breaths almost intertwined due to the proximity.

"that's okay, hoonie. 'm so sleepy. maybe ... we could leave it for tomorrow? just sleep in and then we can have some fun tomorrow?" you suggested, pressing a soft peck to his lips.

his arms tightened around your waist, not allowing you to pull back all the way, "only if you kiss me some more," he murmured, eyes stuck to your lips.

"i can agree to that," you giggled, pressing a languid kiss to his lips as he stuck his tongue in your mouth, softly intertwining with your own in a wet kiss.

the rest of the evening was spent softly making out under the warm sheets, legs tangled up together and fully relaxed in each other's arms. sex was the last thing on your mind as you kissed each other every so often, mostly focused on holding onto one another and finding your slumber together. however, this exhaustion did not stop you from waking up the following day, claiming your highs from one another time after time throughout the day, ready to recharge at night and continue the pattern day after day.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen #svt #seventeen oneshot #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt oneshot #svt imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #jihoon imagine #jihoon oneshot #jihoon fluff #jihoon smut #jihoon scenarios #jihoon x reader #jihoon fanfic #woozi scenarios #woozi fluff #woozi imagines #woozi x reader #woozi smut

[anakinsdove]

𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 | 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫

pairing: anakin skywalker x reader

summary: he’d like to make you cry, but in the process he’ll cry too.

c/w: nsfw, sfw, fluff, choking, dom/sub dynamics, dacryphilia, (listen to pretty when you cry by Lana del rey)

discord - twitter: anakinsdove

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。Love you

𝘄/𝗰 - 1,263

Anakin loves you, he loves so fucking much, he really does… there’s not a single doubt in his mind and he hates to pretend that he doesn’t love you, the Jedi code, no attachments, only if they knew, he’ll destroy the galaxy to save you, he’ll kill everyone to save you, he’ll kill himself to save you.

This isn’t how it was supposed to be, you’re under him while he pounds you mercilessly, his hand tightens around your throat making it difficult to breathe, to think, to care, he wants you crying, crying for him and begging for him, but when he looked at you, despite the naughtiness of the act, he only sees love, his wife and reason to exist, his entire universe. Anakin can’t help it when he feels tears welling up in his eyes.

You’re there, eyes closed head rolled back, tightening around his cock as it kisses your cervix painfully delicious, milking him. He’s there on top of you, furrowed eyebrows, mouth hanging open ans his hand grips you hips tightly to keep you in place, a bead of sweat falling from his hairline, fighting the urge to close his eyes as pleasure overtakes him.

You’re not going anywhere, you’re not going to slip away and disappear if he closes his eyes for just a second, he tries to fight his thoughts, he growls and comes down to kiss your cleavage sucking marks into your skin, bruising you the only way he’ll ever will and taking your pebbled nipple into his mouth, his eyes won’t leave yours… he massages your other boob pinching your nipple with his index finger and his thumb, your back arches accidentally and you let out a strangled cry.

Your hands pull at his hair and anakin groans muffled by your skin then takes your wrists and pins them over your head with one hand, switches to your other boob so she can receive the same treatment, he’s so eager to please you, he’s eager to make you love him even when you already would sell your soul to be with him, he just doesn’t get it, he doesn’t get it how can he have something so fucking good in his life… or under him precisely.

“Keep your hands in there will you?” You nod dumbly staring at his frowning expression…. “Ani-” “Take it” he says and you wonder how long is going to take him to cum, his cock pulsates inside you and he already dragged 3 orgasms out of you but it’s not enough, he wants more… your pussy is sore and unbelievably wet he doesn’t ever want to leave.

The sounds of skin slapping get louder as he moves erratically against you, he’s getting tired but he won’t stop, his grip loosens up on your wrist releasing them, you take the chance to dig your nails in his back, he groans, it’s painful, it’s perfect… dragging them slowly scratching him… hurting him, the only way you’ll ever do.

“Tell me you love me” his voice is strangled

Everything is blurry, your tears are blurring your vision “I love you” you say, but it’s not good enough.

“Again”

“I love you”

“A-Again!”

He’s losing it, he’s so close, so close to let the white pleasure take over him completely, the kind of pleasure that makes him see stars, the kind of pleasure that will make him hold you so tight it’ll leave marks. “I love you Anakin! I l-love you so- f-fucking much!” That sends him over the edge, and his eyes roll back into his head and hides his face on the crook of your neck, his mouth hanging open, brows furrowing together, it’s too much for him.. who would have tought that Anakin skywalker, also known as “the hero with no fear” by the rest of the galaxy would completely come undone by someone telling him they love him.

Your 4th orgasm of the night hits you without warning as you were concentrating on the beautiful man on top of you, watching him unravel… your back arches prettily as you let out a cry, of pleasure, of pain, of overstimulation, love, everything… it’s the most beautiful noise anakin has ever heard, you lay there exhausted panting and holding him tightly… closing your eyes in pure bliss when you suddenly feel his still hard cock moving inside you again.

“Anakin!” Your pussy clenched around him making him moan… “One more” he says breathlessly “I need one more” tears well up in your eyes at the overstimulation nodding at him as you cry quietly… you’ll do anything that he ask. “Gonna pound you now” he warns.

It hurts for him too, his cock is too sensitive for this but he wants it, he needs it, the sticky mess between your legs only encourages him to fill you up again as the sticky cum drips from your pussy, his hand slides down to your sensitive yet untouched clit to draw tight little circles.

It’s the best thing you’ve ever felt in your life, you hold so much love for him in your heart that it’s almost impossible to think about it without without crying because loving Anakin Skywalker is overwhelming, it’s raw and addicting like a drug, you’re completely high on him and the best thing is that it’s mutual, it’s everything you could ever wish for, he would do anything that you ask, no questions, it’s scary but devotion is everything and if breaking the Jedi code had consequences you’re disposed to pay them, whatever the price is to keep living this life.

“I love you y/n” Anakin breathes out

“You belong to me” he stops rubbing your puffy clit to bring his fingers to your mouth making you choke on them pressing on your tongue so you can taste yourself “Say it”

“I- i belong to you” it’s unintelligible but he smirks

“You’re mine” he growls

“I’m yours”

“No one else’s”

“No one else’s”

You keep choking on his digits as his tip hits that spongy spot inside you perfectly “it’s okay i got you” he says, his mind recognizes the signs of your body when you’re close, not only to cum but to break… “i want you to cum okay? Want you to milk me my love… t-take what’s yours, I’m yours do you understand?”

The pleasure is unbearable and your body comes undone in his arms, anakin captures your lips and muffles your cries, it’s a clumsy kiss considering he’s coming undone on top of you too, he slides his tongue in your mouth tasting you, you taste so sweet and he’s already drunk in you. His hips stutter as more cum drips from your pussy… he wasn’t intending to breed you tonight but maybe he did… he finally breaks the kiss and you’re both left in silence only heavy breathing can be heard… Anakin rests his head on your chest and sighs.

“You’re everything to me” he says and you play with his hair delicately making his eyes close involuntarily getting lost in a different kind of pleasure

“You’re my adoration Anakin” he grins like a child, pure and only happiness behind it

“D’you think you can tell obi wan you’re not going to this mission?” He says

“I don’t know, do you think master yoda is tall?” his boyish giggle warms your heart…. “Hey…. I’m yours until tomorrow, we’ve still got plenty of time alone together” your fingers tug delicately at the roots of golden curls.

“Tomorrow” he says

“Tomorrow”

masterlist 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗱𝗼𝘃𝗲 © --- all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/ copying will be tolerated.

dividers - @i92-93

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin smut #hayden christensen #anakin fanfiction #anakin imagine #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin x you #star wars anakin #sw anakin #hayden christensen characters #hayden christensen fluff #hayden christensen smut #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

FUBAR [AO3]

Female Reader x GHOAP

NSFW 18+ [All of my blog is thus] Minors DNI, I mean it, *Logan Roy voice* Fuck off.

Summary: You, Soap, and Ghost get dosed with sex pollen. Warnings and full fic under the cut.

Warnings: Sex Pollen, Dubcon(everyone is into it but high on pheromones), MMF Threesome, MLM, Blowjobs (M giving and receiving), oral F!receiving, dirty talk, soft dom!Simon, very loose sub/dom dynamics, RACK/SSC not really applicable due to sex pollen but it's not bad kink, just not the most realistic, safewords are used, unprotected PiV (reader is on Birth Control), Creampie, Sir Kink, subby Johnny, subby Reader. Let me know if I missed anything! No physical description of reader but Simon moves her around a little (no heavy lifting really). Thanks to @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for taking a look/betaing for me.

Word Count: 4,370

CoD Masterlist | AO3 | Ko-Fi

You rouse slowly to the sound of heavy grunts, desperate sighs, and a wet, slurping sound. You let out a soft whine as the sounds go straight to your core. Your legs clenching together as you try and quell the ache building there.

That’s when the buzzing in your ears starts, low and droning like an incessant fly rattling around your skull. Your entire body aches like you’ve run a marathon, before fighting off a bear. You groan as you try and stretch out your limbs, your eyes slowly adjusting to the low light filling the space around you.

The pitched roof above you is made of thick wooden beams, the orange light emanating from a lamp in the corner casts a romantic hue over everything. You turn your head, searching for the source of the noise and your mouth goes dry.

Soap and Ghost are tangled on the floor a few feet away clothes discarded; their scarred bodies bathed in the ochre light as you watch Ghost cradle Soap’s head in a loving gesture as they break a heated kiss. You bite your lip as you watch the pornographic scene unfold. You realise it’s the first time you’ve seen Ghost without his mask on, he’s strikingly handsome.

His face is scarred, aged lacerations and burns marking his strong jaw, up and through the left side of his plush lips. His nose is somewhat crooked, broken one too many times, and set poorly more than once. He’s beautiful.

There’s a small voice in the back of your mind that tells you to speak up, or at the very least roll over to give them some privacy. But you’re transfixed, your panties are soaked through as you dip your hand below the waistline of your trousers.

It’s sick and twisted but you feel yourself burning up even hotter as you toy with your swollen clit as you watch them. But you simply don’t care, it’s like you’ve lost all sense of shame, your inhibitions ripped free from your mind as you watch Soap press open mouthed kisses to Ghost’s chest.

“Go on, Johnny,” He purrs lowly as the smaller man sinks between his thighs, “Be a good boy for me.”

“Fuck, anything for you, Si,” Johnny responds with a whine as you watch his lips trail further down the scarred expanse of your LT’s body. He nips and sucks on Simon’s nipples and you can’t help but wish that he was worshiping you as well.

“Fuck,” Ghost groans as you witness Johnny’s lips wrap around his cock, “That’s it, Johnny, fuck I need you.”

The desperation in Ghost’s voice makes you squirm as you feel heat rushing through your veins as you rub your fingers desperately over your swollen clit. You’re drenched as you hear the wet sound of Johnny taking Ghost’s thick cock almost all the way to the base.

Johnny works Ghost’s cock like a pro, his thick fingers pressed into Ghost’s muscular thighs as his cheeks hollow out. His head bobs in practiced strokes, pulling off almost all the way to suckle around Ghost’s bulbous tip, drawing out harsh choked moans from the gruff, stoic man.

You’re panting like a bitch in heat now, no longer subtle in your movements as you shove your trousers and panties down around your thighs. You’re in too much of a rush to take them off completely as you plunge two fingers inside your aching cunt. You fail to stifle the whine in the back of your throat as you match the increased pace Johnny sets on Ghost’s cock.

“Looks like we’ve got an audience,” Ghost’s growling drawl makes you clench around your fingers, you should feel ashamed, you should stop. But getting caught only spurs you on as you add another finger into your drenched core. You look to your Lieutenant, his scarred, handsome face twisted in a blissed-out snarl as Johnny eases off his cock.

“Don’t stop,” you cry out, voice hoarse as you make eye contact with Johnny whose eyes are wide with shock, “Please, I’m going to come.”

“You heard her, Johnny,” Ghost says with a click of his tongue, “Put on a show.”

Your cheeks heat at the way he talks down to Johnny, but more at the way Johnny moans at the instruction, redoubling his efforts.

The Scot gets sloppier, the loud gluck, gluck, gluck of Ghost’s cock hitting the back of Soap’s throat again and again echoes the squelching sounds coming from your cunt as you try and match his pace.

You hit your peak with a wail as you clamp down on your fingers, pleasure rocking through you in hard bursts. The tightness in your core eases for a spell as you come down from your high just to hear the euphoric roar of Ghost coming down Soap’s throat.

“Fuck,” you groan as you roll onto your side, watching in perverted awe as Soap laps at Ghost’s cock, licking him clean before suckling on his tip slowly. Icy eyes locking with Simon’s hazy, blissed out amber ones before turning his gaze to you.

“Come join us, hen,” Johnny says with his signature smirk as he sits back on his ass, his dick still painfully hard as it slaps against his scarred abdomen.

“Yeah,” Ghost groans as he curls two fingers at you, beckoning for you to join them, “We need to talk.”

You’re moving before you can even process the request, you waddle over with your trousers and panties still rolled down, hands pulling at your shirt and bra as you discard them both somewhere behind you. You’re fumbling with your trousers when a firm hand catches your wrist.  

“Slow your roll, sergeant,” Ghost says, his tone serious as you try to look at his face, and not the beautiful dick bobbing between his legs as it still glistens with a combination of Johnny’s spit and his come.

“What happened, what’s wrong with me?” You ask in a hushed whisper as you try and replay the events of the last forty-eight hours.

“You took a grenade for us, you twat,” Ghost says with a low chuckle, “It was a prototype of the chemical weapon we were tracking.”

“Shit,” you suddenly feel itchy, like you’re covered in bugs, “What’s the damage?”

“It was some kind of pheromone bomb,” Soap chimes in as he traces circles over the skin of your exposed ankle, sending shivers up your spine, “Meant to drive people into a blind rage.”

“Instead, it seems like it’s more of an aphrodisiac,” Ghost adds, pointing between himself and Johnny, “We were hit too, trying to save your reckless ass.”

“So, what? You two just got started without me?” You scoff, trying to ease the tension coiling in your belly as you feel the magnetic pull of their bodies as you sit there topless, cunt exposed with your trousers tight around your thighs.

“We weren’t going to touch you in your sleep, hen, come on. What do you take us for?”

“Besides,” Ghost says with a sigh, “We’re not exactly unfamiliar with each other’s cocks,” Johnny flashes Ghost a dazzling smile at that and it clicks into place in your mind.

“Oh, so you’re not into women,” you nod in bitter understanding as you try not to feel rejected, “Do I just go and wank myself to death in the corner then?”

You try to pass it off as a joke, but you can see the way both men look at you. There’s an undeniable yearning etched on both their faces.

“Lass,” Johnny says as he trails his fingertips up to your bunched up trousers, “Gaz thinks we need to fuck this drug out, it’s no good just trying to wank the pain away.”

“Eloquent as ever, Johnny,” Simon sighs but the smirk on his face betrays any attempt at scolding Soap, “But he’s right, Gaz and Price managed to avoid getting dosed, this dumb fuck and I got too close trying to get your limp body out and got a whiff of the stuff.”

“We were worried about you, hen, we care about you.”

“So, you swing both ways?” You ask bluntly, after failing to find a better, less crass way of putting it.

“Aye,” Johnny nods, “And we’ve been sweet on you a while, just didn’t want to pressure you into anything.”

“But this bullshit kind of forced our hands,” Ghost adds as he flattens his broad palm over the back of one of your hands, “We don’t have to make any promises about what comes next, there’s no pressure from either of us, I hope you know that.”

You nod slowly, your skin burning as you try not to lean in and just kiss Ghost, you know there’s more to be said yet.

“We need to fuck, to survive this,” Johnny says as he moves his hand up to cup your cheek, his crystal blue eyes boring into you as you hold his gaze, “We don’t have to talk about it ever again if you don’t want to, but let us help you.”

“Tell us what you need,” Simon encourages you as he presses his nose against the swell of your bare shoulder as he trails his fingertips up your side, “Tell us what we can do to make you feel good.”

“Help me get out of these,” you gesture to your trousers and panties, “Then fuck me, please.”

“So, you two,” you start as Simon’s fingers slip under the bunched-up fabric to pull your legs free, “You’re an item?”

“Fuckin’ hell, lass,” Johnny groans as he bucks up into your hand as you squeeze him tightly in your clenched fist, “Do you want us to fuck ye or not?”

“Johnny,” Simon snaps in warning as he pulls his fingers from you, you huff at that, but Simon shushes you gently, “Look, we can talk about who’s courting who later, right now, we have bigger priorities.”

“Of course, sorry, sir,” you say without thinking and you watch as Simon’s pupils dilate at the slip. As if the ache in your core wasn’t painful enough. The way the tension just doubled has you squirming under his gaze.

“Fuck, I really want to go easy on you,” he growls as he grabs your waist, turning you around and tearing you away from Johnny as he sits back, legs spread as he pulls you onto his lap, “But you can’t go calling me sir, not right now.”

There’s a warning and a challenge baked into his words as you hear Johnny laugh quietly behind you. The Scot clearly privy to some in-joke you’re eager to find out about.

You consider the quiet, logical voice that’s telling you to just get this over with, fuck and be done with it. But the way Simon’s fingers are digging into the meat of your hips, and the way his cock throbs as you slowly rock your cunt along the underside of it makes you bold.

Or stupid.

“Message received, loud and clear,” you say breathily as you place your hands either side of Simon’s thick neck, thumbs digging up into the underside of his jaw, “L.T.”

“On your knees,” he grunts as you feel him push you back into Johnny’s waiting arms, you hesitate for a second before he glares at you, “That’s an order.”

You do as you are told, the hardwood flooring biting into your shins as you feel Johnny shift behind you. You’re about to turn your head and ask what’s going on when you feel one of Johnny’s palms on the curve of your hip. You’re pitched forward by his other hand pressing between your shoulders, forcing you onto your hands and knees as you look up to see Simon’s face alight with dark desire.

“Work her open Johnny, get her nice and ready for that pretty dick of yours,” he says, delirium edging his tone as he orders Johnny around.

“On it,” Soap says with a peppy lilt to his voice as he spreads your ass cheeks.

“We need a safe word, the moment it becomes too much, too rough – whatever – you say it and we stop,” Simon orders as you look up to see the tip of his cock dangerously close to your lips.

“Ok,” you nod eagerly as you feel Soap’s thumbs digging into your skin to expose your dripping cunt, “FUBAR.”

“Ok we’ll all go with that, immediate stop on FUBAR, you got that, MacTavish?” Simon asks the Scot, and you whine as Johnny nips at your left ass cheek.

“Loud and clear,” he hums in affirmation as he gropes and paws at your spread cheeks impatiently, clearly waiting for the next order.

“Good,” Simon says with a smile as he cups your chin with one hand and fists the base of his cock with the other, “Go on Johnny, don’t be shy.”

You’re barely given a second to think before Soap’s tongue darts out to tease at your entrance. The hot drag of his wet muscle makes you whine as you fixate on the bead of precome dribbling over Simon’s uncut tip.

“Suck,” he says as he presses the sticky head against your lips. You groan as you think of how Soap did it, hoping you live up to that mouthwatering display.

You do as you are told, letting him press his thick, ruddy tip into your mouth as Soap buries his face into your cunt from behind. You groan as you sink down on Simon’s cock, fingertips scraping on the wood floor as the musky, salty taste of his precome coats your tongue.

“Fuck,” Simon rasps as he cups your cheek, rocking his hips slowly as he chases the wet heat of your mouth, “How does she taste, Johnny?”

“So damned sweet,” he responds, voice muffled as he sucks hard on your clit, his stubble scraping against your sensitive skin as he glides his tongue over your swollen bundle of nerves, “Like fucken’ heaven.”

“Hear that?” Simon coos down at you, a sarcastic pout on his scarred lips as he pulls his cock out of your mouth, “You like it when we talk about you like you’re not even here?”

You nod fervently as you stick your tongue out in earnest, begging Simon to put his cock back in your mouth. You’re incensed, overwhelmed and greedy for anything these men can give you.

You try to blame it all on the drugs, but something deep inside you knows it’s more than that. You’ve wanted this for so long.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon says with a low hiss as he taps the head of his cock on your tongue a few times, pulling it back before you can wrap your lips back around it, “She’s a greedy little thing.”

“Please,” you whimper as Soap teases a finger inside you. He buries himself to the knuckle with ease as his lips wrap around your clit. He flicks and swirls his tongue around the tight bundle of nerves as the wet sound of his lips sucking on your sensitive bud fill your ears.

“What is it, love?” Simon asks with condescension heavy on his tongue, the pet name makes you clench around Soap’s thick digit, “What do you need?”

“Fuck me,” you pant as you feel Soap fucking a second finger into your tight cunt, scissoring and stretching you out as he groans into your sensitive skin, “Please, Si.”

“Oh, it’s Si now, is it?” He retorts with an edge to his voice, “Johnny, stop.”

You cry out in frustration as both men stop touching you, leaving you trembling on your hands and knees as the dull ache in your skull returns. You realise your error too late and you’re burning up as you try to make it right.

“Sir, please,” you cry out as your body aches. Your fingers and toes curl and uncurl as you bite your lip in frustration. The ripple of bittersweet humiliation has you clenching around nothing.

“That’s better,” he scoffs with a smirk before addressing Soap, “Think she can take you, Johnny?”

“Fucken’ hope so,” Soap says with a huff as he sinks two fingers back inside you with no warning, “I need to fuck you, can I, hen?”

You’re panting and whining as you look up to Simon for approval. The wet squelching sounds of Johnny’s fingers fucking in and out of your cunt loud in the otherwise quiet room as you feel pleasure scorching a path down your spine. You’re close but you need more, so much more.

“You ready?” Simon asks as he cups your face with both hands, thumbs brushing against your cheekbones. 

“Yes, sir, please, I need you, need you both.”

“You heard her, Johnny, give the poor thing what she needs,” Simon commands as he lines his tip at your lips once more.

You’re greedy and impatient as you take as much of his thick length in as you can manage. You moan around his cock as Johnny notches himself at your core, the stretch already making your thighs tremble.

“C’mere, Johnny,” Simon growls as you look up to see the larger man grip Soap by the back of the neck, crashing their lips together as Johnny’s hips buck forwards. The stretch burns pleasantly as he sheaths himself fully inside you. You’re so impossibly full. The angle of their kiss has your nose pressed to the base of Simon’s cock, his wiry pubic hair brushing your nose as you struggle to control your gag reflex.

You’re a whining mess as you watch them kiss, tongues battling for dominance as you choke down on Simon’s girthy cock. It’s excruciating being held so still, so full of them, it doesn’t take long before you’re tapping out on Simon’s thigh, begging for relief.

The men separate with heavy exhales, a string of spit connecting their lips momentarily before they both look down at you with hungry eyes.

“Sorry, hen, you ok?” Johnny asks as he slowly eases almost all the way back out of you, the heft of his cock dragging deliciously through your walls. You clench hard around his tip, pulling a soft groan from his lips as you squeeze him.

“Yeah,” You nod dumbly before smiling up at them both, “Fucking amazing.”

“Such a good girl for us,” Simon coos as he lowers himself down to kiss you, teeth grazing your bottom lip. You groan as Johnny starts to pick up the pace, you plant desperately into Simon’s open mouth as he lingers with his forehead pressed against yours. A surprisingly tender gesture that makes your chest flutter.

He exhales through his nose as he rocks back onto his knees. He straightens back up, cock held out for you as pearly precome beads at the tip. You lap it up eagerly before suckling on the tip, tongue delving under his foreskin and dipping into his slit.

“Fuck,” Simon growls as he places both hands on either side of your face, pulling your mouth down on his cock, “Too good at that, sweetheart, giving Johnny a run for his money,” he snarls as he gently rocks his hips, feeding you more and more of his cock with every thrust, “God, you look so pretty like this.”

“Aye,” Johnny whines as he squeezes your hips, already starting to snap you back against him with such force you’re mewling around Ghost’s cock, “Look at that ass fucken’ bounce”.” Johnny’s last words are punctuated by the sound of your cheeks slapping against his thick thighs as he delivers two brutal thrusts into your slick walls.

You’re so close, the fire burning under your skin rages on as you swallow around Simon’s cock, breathing heavily through your nose as you feel your throat contract as he pushes in deeper again.

“Shit, Si, I’m close,” Soap groans as he slips a hand between your legs, two thick fingers pressing hard against your clit.

“You’re on brith control right, love?” Simon snarls as he swipes the tears that fall down your cheeks with his thumbs, you nod around his cock and he smirks to himself.

“Come inside her, Johnny, fill her up,” he commands as he withdraws from your mouth once more and you’re about to protest when he tuts, “Want to hear your sweet little moans as you come.”

Johnny pulls you back against him, fingers of his one hand still swirling over your throbbing clit, the other wraps around your throat. You cry out as he fucks up into you as Simon crowds you from the front.

“Come for me, Johnny,” he growls as he presses his chest against you, his cock firm against your belly as he kisses Johnny roughly. His one hand fists in the base of Johnny’s Mohawk as the other grips your waist, pinning you between them.

The smothering heat makes you gasp as your orgasm rips through you, your vision blurs as you clench hard around Johnny’s cock. You’re crying out, a whining mess as Simon ruts against your front, while Johnny fucks you in hard, erratic thrusts as he reaches his peak.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon growls as you feel the hot pulse of his cum splattering against your stomach, followed closely by the last few thrusts from Johnny into your quivering cunt from behind.

Johnny groans low in your ear as he comes deep inside you, his dick twitching with every spurt inside your pulsing walls. You fall forward into Simon’s arms as you bury your head in the crook of his neck.

“There you go,” Simon says with a softness so unlike him as the three of you sink to the floor together.

You huddle there for some time, two pairs of lips leaving trailing kisses along your chest, your shoulders, and neck. They kiss one another from time to time, slow, lingering, as you bask in the affection shared between them. Rough fingertips glide over your skin, mapping the curves of your body in a silent display of affection.

“Need to clean up,” Simon finally grunts as you feel his come sticking to your joined bodies as Johnny’s come leaks down your thighs, “Then, sleep.”

“Aye, sir,” Johnny grumbles as he slowly eases out of you.

There’s a tension in your chest, the haze of the drug clearly abating, replaced now with an anxiety that threatens to eat you alive.

You finish up cleaning up with a stack of wet wipes you had in bergen to do a half-decent job at cleaning off the evidence of the evening’s activities from your skin.  You pull on your t-shirt and trousers before looking up to see Johnny and Simon are sat together against the wall near where you had been lying earlier that evening.

They’re also fully dressed, and there’s an ache in your chest that makes you needy for their touch, to be skin-to-skin with them again.

“Hey,” you say, barely more than a whisper as you slump in a heap a few feet in front of them.

Johnny’s curled into Simon’s side, head on the larger man’s shoulder. He’s barely awake as he looks up to address you.

“What’s up, hen?” Johnny asks, bright blue eyes glimmering in the low light. 

“Yeah, talk to us,” Simon chimes in as he pats the space to his left.

You crawl over slowly, unsure if you should take the space being offered to you.

“What does this all mean? For us, after all this, what do we do now?”

“Whatever you want, hen,” Johnny says, blinking rapidly to shake the fatigue from his eyes, attempting address you more clearly, “We don’t have to put any meaning to this if you don’t want to.”

“Or,” Simon rumbles as he places a hand against the swell of your shoulder, “We can get back home and see how it all plays out, for the three of us, together.”

You consider it for a moment, trying not to make a rash decision, for all you know the drug could still be affecting your decision making. But there’s a wholesome warmth burning under your cheeks as both men look at you with deeply affectionate grins.

“I think I’d like to see where this goes for us, if you’re happy with that?” You ask quietly, fear gnawing at your insides.

“I’d love that,” Johnny says with a gentle yawn.

“So would I,” Simon agrees as he pulls both of you tight against him, “Now sleep, we’ve got a busy few days ahead to get to the exfil on time.”

“Yes, sir,” you and Johnny say in unison, which causes you all to laugh.

It feels too good to be true, too easy.

But for now, you don’t let it bother you, and you fall asleep in a blissful haze as you let yourself hope that something good will come out of this. 

“Wait,” you perk up with morbid realisation, “Where are Gaz and Price?”

“In the next room,” Soap says with a smirk on his face, “Probably heard the whole thing.”

“Fuck off, Si, tell me he’s joking?”

“Negative, but it’s not the first time Gaz and Price have caught us fucking,” he shrugs as he flashes you a toothy grin.

“Well, it’s the first fucking time they’ve heard me,” you groan as you bury your face into Ghost’s side, heat burning under your skin as you try not to think about what your CO and fellow sergeant just heard.

“They’ll get used to it,” Soap says as he finds one of your hands and laces his fingers through your own, “Besides, I recon we could convince them both to join in the fun.”

“Johnny,” Simon growls in a half-hearted warning.

“Alrigh’, I’m just kidding,” Soap squeezes your hand in his, “Get some sleep, hen, we’re here for you, no matter what.”

You grumble in discontent as you squeeze back before hunkering down against Simon’s broad form.

Maybe it’s the effects of the drug, but your mind starts to wander as you drift off. You can’t help but imagine what it would have been like if it had been Gaz and Price in here instead of Johnny and Simon.

You fall asleep with a smile on your lips as you let your imagination run wild.

CoD Masterlist | AO3 | Ko-Fi

#john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap x reader #soap mw2 #soap call of duty #soap x you #soap x y/n #soap imagine #johnny mctavish x reader #johnny mactavish #johnny mctavish x you #cod imagine #cod mwii #fanfic #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #soap smut #soap mactavish smut #johnny soap mactavish #cod smut #cod x reader #call of duty x you #cod modern warfare #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost x reader #ghost x you

[deuteragonist1]

Merthur really have it all huh. King and lionheart dynamic. Fucking hate at first sight then speedrun to trying to die for the other. Slow burn? Never heard of her. One of them wears gloves and one doesn't and I'm not even gonna bother to explain why that is top fucking tier. Lies and secrets that could bring about the doom of the kingdom. Obviously adore each other but will actually fucking die before saying it with actual words. The prince is a gigantic asshole who doesn't know how to show care or ask for attention like a person who had healthy emotional development as a child and oscillates between pulling pigtails and acting like an over-eager puppy or both at the same time. Domesticity levels previously unheard of. They canonically wear each other's clothes. One of them makes up words and the other promptly starts using them. Both are extremely into the other's specific brand of dumbassery. Their love language is fucking playing together. "I don't want you to change" fuck this fuck everything

#also i just thought about arthur using one of merlin's made-up words in front of uther at dinner or something #and uther is like come again???? #also i said hate at first sight but i'm pretty sure that was entirely one-sided #it came from merlin's side in case that wasn't clear #arthur got tingles from this peasant boy insulting him and didn't know how to deal with it so he threw him in the stocks #argue with the wall #when merlin isn't there he is just so fucking lost #imagine being a servant in camelot like #oh here's the king. wandering about the castle in his nightclothes again #checking corners for his daydrinking servant #again #bbc merlin #merlin emrys #bbc arthur #arthur pendragon #merthur