#this is not good at all but in my defense I coloured this at like 4 am lmao

[batsplat]

hi batsplat this is marquezian.. as our resident casey scholar i was wondering if you have casey race recs !!

boy do I ever have recs! here's a (hopefully) fairly comprehensive list, drawing from more or less all the stages of his grand prix career and featuring races notable for a bunch of different reasons

casey is quite defensive of the 'boring' racing of the alien era (in particular the 2010-12 years)... but it is a shame his time in motogp overlapped so heavily with the 800cc era, which did lead to some tough watches for fans of 'overtakes' and 'close racing' and 'unpredictability'. so a lot of these race picks aren't necessarily reflective of how casey racked up the majority of his wins, plus presumably don't always match up with what his own picks would be. but well, whatever! I threw in a few of the ones I know casey likes

warning: the race descriptions generally spoil the results of the races. since this list is pretty long, I've put an asterisk next to the races I'd particularly recommend, and double asterisk next to my personal faves

my tldr spoiler-free top five faves list is catalunya 2007, donington park 2007, laguna seca 2008, sachsenring 2010, and laguna seca 2011. my five next-off most notable/fun races are assen 2004, turkey 2006, qatar 2007, phillip island 2009 and silverstone 2011

and here's the actual list, in chronological order:

sachsenring 2003: first podium in grand prix racing! big disclaimer: the recordings of the 2003 125cc races you can find on the videopass are poor quality and don't feature any commentary, so not the easiest to watch. this race is also not great to follow on the colour front: the three main protagonists are *squints at notes* casey (yellow bike, number 27), perugini (mostly black and white but with a few greenish highlights, 7) and de angelis (mostly green, 15). but well it's a really tight fight that goes until the last corner, good fun... casey's talked about how nervous the track made him so he wasn't racing his opponents hard enough at the end. which is kinda sweet and revealing

brazil 2003: another tight battle, this time with jorge (green/red, 48) and de angelis, another time he doesn't QUITE make it. jorge's first ever victory! y'know the one where he overtakes everyone on the outside and starts the whole x-fuera thing

valencia 2003: first win! 125cc/moto3 racing being reliably good fun is a time-honoured tradition and it can even make that middling karting track exciting to watch. it's a good fight - quite helpfully, casey's nicely visible yellow bike contrasts well with the blue bike (hector barbera, number 80) and the red bike (sic, 58) (at some point steve jenker, 17, shows up on a black and white bike). that being said... the bloody video on the motogp website cuts off around two and a half laps to the end, which is a shame because those laps were (apparently) filled with drama. very close finish, not helped by the spark plug of casey's bike breaking RIGHT before the end, which is a very casey thing to happen to him. he thought he was screwed but ended up being saved by barbera running wide trying to overtake him in the last corner. here's a cute lil feature with casey discussing the race that you can probably just watch instead of the race. also ofc him saying how good it felt to beat the spanish at their home circuit (clip here), king of spite

^look at him in evil gross luminous yellow

**assen 2004: I'll admit, this race is one of my faves in large part because of the terrorism jorge does on casey on the last lap, which casey was NOT happy about. (in a funny coincidence, the same event features jorge's future teammate doing some last lap terrorism on gibernau that gibernau is also decidedly not thrilled about.) featured in the autobiography - he really wasn't a fan of jorge at the time - and when he's being sulky in the interview they have in the post-race broadcast. but another great fight and, with my apologies to casey, the last lap is fantastic. excitingly includes commentary!!

jerez 2006: casey's first motogp race! you don't reallyyyy see enough of him on the broadcast for it to be completely worth it, but it's still a proper good ride. he starts in fifteenth, makes a great start and then gets a lil lucky at the first corner when toni elias attempts to murder barrels into valentino and opens up a gap for casey. gets all the way up to fourth and finishes sixth!! also ofc a starring performance by dani at the front of the race

qatar 2006: second race of the season. after the first race, casey had been ill with a bad fever, plus there'd been a fuck up with the flights that meant he only got to the lusail circuit ten minutes before the first session. he topped the first practise session and qualified on pole, even though he was still recovering from illness and was massively sleep-deprived. his first battle with valentino, eventually drops a few places but still <3 also features some fun vale/nicky hayden battles

*turkey 2006: the third race of the season (look he front-loaded his good races that year) and my girl's first premier class podium!! but... bit of a heartbreaker as he did come VERY very very close to winning. also he said apparently he was pleased with his podium but when he got to parc fermé his team was acting disappointed he didn't win :( still a fantastic race, the highlight of casey's troubled rookie campaign. (casey was fast from the get-go in the premier class, but was dealing with major tyre issues that the team around him didn't do a good job at helping him with. by the end of the season, he ended up acquiring a somewhat unfair reputation for being a crasher, with the lovely nickname 'rolling stoner'. still, for young talent it's generally the peaks that matter most and you could really see his ability shine through here)

*qatar 2007: obviously of Great Narrative Significance, casey's first race with ducati and when he announced his arrival at the top of the sport by getting his first premier class win. good solid fun casey/vale fight, though it does feature the classic 'ducati blasts past everyone down that very long lusail straight' syndrome. people were kinda mean about that - which in turn made casey very irritable, arguing that if your bike is a nightmare to ride everywhere else then it's an accomplishment to be close enough to blast past down the straight. unfortunately I do agree a lil bit with the naysayers in terms of the actual racing, but still a pretty good fight

^the last year it was a day race

**catalunya 2007: probably my personal favourite? (of the ones casey won, anyway.) just something about a great battle at that track - obviously valentino had about a million, but this was really the only race-long one that he lost. important in the context of the 2007 title campaign - even though it was only a ten-point swing - because it showed casey wasn't just about horsepower dominance. fantastic riding from both of them

**donington park 2007: my fave of his wet weather performances because he actually has to work his way through the field. he started fifth but was outside of the top ten early on after an uncharacteristically poor start. fun race with plenty of good shake-ups of the order

(he sealed the title in motegi and won his home race for the first time that year, but since he finished sixth in the former and won the latter by a few lightyears, they don't make the cut)

*qatar 2008: more fun than qatar 2007!! imo!! obviously it's also jorge's first race and he's on pole and dani's a bit injured and those two have their whole thing™️ going on... and vale has just switched tyre suppliers and is trying to prove he's not washed and casey is starting his title defence... so a big significant race for all four of them, and unlike many races in that era has a fair few twists and turns and almost all of them actually get to fight each other a bit. okay eventually it settles down and gets dull but until then it's fun (and there's also some very late excitement involving dovi/vale)

**laguna seca 2008: I feel a wee bit bad for including this one and casey would throw something at me, but well it obviously belongs on here. ignoring casey's complaints for a minute about vale's aggression, it really is a fantastic battle - and vale only goes as far as he does because casey's so good! (also unsure whether casey would appreciate this line of reasoning.) probably the one everyone's most likely to have already watched, and for good reason since it slaps. sorry casey

estoril 2009: only for sentimental reasons, after the first few laps it gets boring fast. still, it's casey's first race back after the mystery illness-induced break, he immediately has a cute lil battle with vale (which he wins, slay) and... okay then it's basically a procession but it's also nice and sweet when it's over and he's on the podium and he's shown everyone he's still got it. maybe skip like. 20 laps

**phillip island 2009: casey's first win in only his second race back!!! warning that it's a little light on actual overtaking but it's still tense and close most of the way through and casey's so great to watch on this circuit. (he's literally too good at it for most of his races there to be all that interesting, this is probably the best one.) plus it's another one included partly for sentimental reasons. here's my pitch:

sepang 2009: so he's been slandered for months, he's been written off, ducati have been fucking him over, he comes back and immediately gets a podium finish and wins the next race... what does he do after that? win again obviously! another neat little wet performance (partly helped by vale having a bit of a shocker off the line lmao, though he seals the title that day with a p3 finish)

valencia 2009: if you want to see the pole sitter crash on the warm up lap and dani almost miss the start in confusion

**sachsenring 2010: vale's first race back after the broken leg. usually that's the time when everyone would pretend to be nice to each other... but all three of vale, jorge and casey had gone to efforts during vale's absence to make things worse <3 anyway cracking race including a good fun spite-fuelled battle between casey and vale for the last podium spot, one of their better scraps with a dramatic ending - after which both of them are charmingly bitchy about each other to the media (see below). shame it was basically their last notable battle in the dry (I didn't include either jerez 2011 or le mans 2012 on this list because I wouldn't really recommend them as good casey races, but they do more or less conclude casey and vale's on-track story. and the latter is also the last podium they share, plus it's the race right after casey announced his retirement. fave presser moment)

^😭😭😭😭😭 you guys are AWFUL oh my god. people always talk about laguna 2008 but the vibes got way more rancid post-2009 when their actual on-track rivalry was basically over

motegi 2010: this one's kinda marginal on whether it qualifies for this list. casey was really proud of this win and felt his 2010 wins were particularly impressive given how much he had to override a bike that was objectively shit by this point.... BUT in practise once he shakes off dovi, it's quite a dominant win and the real fun is watching valentino experiment with whether he can make jorge lorenzo the first person ever to die of rage alone while riding a motorcycle

*silverstone 2011: one of the truly great wet weather performances. this is a personal taste thing - I don't mind dominance as much in the wet because it's just cool sometimes seeing somebody drop a masterclass on the field in those conditions. but obviously not necessarily the most exciting victory fight once he hits the front after like. a lap. still, good battles going on behind him

^a fan of british tracks, not a fan of the british

*sachsenring 2011: great three-way battle with jorge and dani, with the lead exchanged several times - also plenty of other good battles down the order. not one casey emerges victorious from, but definitely one of the best races that season

**laguna seca 2011: okay look corkscrew this corkscrew that but there's an argument to be made that casey makes a pass in this that's better than anything marc and vale can DREAM of. well no I won't go that far - but it's still an incredible overtake, insane thing to do at a blind corner, and casey just looks fantastic riding on that circuit. in his autobiography he says something along the lines of 'oh it looked scary on tv but I knew I'd make it'. which. okay casey!! not gonna say more than that, one of those where you'll know it when you see it. one of the best races of his career and also a key race in that year's title fight

phillip island 2011: marginal inclusion, but it's sweet he sealed the title on his 26th birthday by winning his home race (even though he mainly sealed it there because jorge lost half a finger and couldn't start the race). conditions got treacherous when the rain showed up but well casey stayed on the bike, just about

*jerez 2012: casey's first and last win at jerez! this is the one that casey called his greatest career win at the time and... sure, fair enough, especially given he had a weirdly bad record at the track. he didn't enjoy the experience much because of his arm pump issues, which makes the performance all the more impressive. fun first few laps in particular, after that it's maybe a bit more tension than actual action. still a proper good race

estoril 2012: another win he's very proud of... another one that's maybe even more skewed towards tension than actual action, but still an unmistakably impressive performance given jorge's strong record there and casey's physical issues. that and jerez completed his set as they'd been the races he hadn't won yet, which made him feel more certain of his choice to retire

phillip island 2012: listen it's his last win and it sealed the title (for jorge), so was at least somewhat exciting. but also according to his autobiography, casey deliberately rode slower for a bit before expanding the gap again just to keep his focus up, which I think gives you a sense of how easy he found winning there

^his penultimate race and sixth consecutive victory at phillip island. he also finished on the podium in his last ever race at valencia

#marquezian #casey stoner #motogp #// #cs27 #'resident casey scholar' 🥺🥺 that's so nice #one day i'm gonna write my long email to dorna with increasingly insane complaints about my issues with the videopass #like 'yes the mugello 2004 race is on youtube but on the videopass you've only got the second part' or 'where's the sepang 2014 presser' #or indeed 'the valencia 125cc 2003 replay is incomplete and also since you clearly DID commentary why not upload it with that' #can't really bitch too much because it's a fantastic resource i'd kill to have in certain other sports but still

[flangore]

❥ scarlet plumes

feat.: Valentino/f!reader

warnings: nsfw content, noncon, physical + psychological abuse, unhealthy relationships, violence, drugging, rough sex, choking, punishments, manipulation, Valentino is his own warning

You were not the type to get into trouble.

Being confrontational, at least attempting to have things go your way through protests and complaints, had never seemed worth it; not when the one you were up against was Valentino, who always got what he wanted in the end, one way or another.

All too often, you had seen the way he punished disobedient whores; all too often, you had watched the way they were still limping days after, bruises blooming on skin if they had been lucky, bullet wounds trying to heal, oozing blood, if they had been less so.

There was no reason to willingly go through the struggle of disobeying when simply giving in, caving to Val's wishes and orders, was so much easier.

When Valentino told you to bend over, you did so readily, spreading your thighs apart in offering; when Valentino ordered you down onto your knees, you went obediently, lips dropping open, praying he wasn't in a bad mood, unpredictable as his sudden bursts of anger often made him.

You were not the type to get into trouble, and yet you currently found yourself on the floor, crumpled in front of Valentino's boots, cheek warm and stinging.

“Now, why don't you tell me what happened, baby?” His tone was a low coo, almost gentle enough to soothe your sobs. “You've never acted out like this before. What happened to my well-behaved girl, hm?”

In your defense, it really hadn't been your fault — you hadn't meant to do it.

Your night shift had been supposed to be a simple session for a well-known client, consisting of some lap dancing and a blow job; that was what he had paid for, at least. Your surprise when he had begun ripping your skimpy panties off you, forcing your legs apart, hands greedy, mouth drooling, high on some drug, was therefore understandable in your eyes; as was the way you, in your shock, had lashed out, claws scratching at his chest in order to push him off you. A split second later, the side of your face had ached with pain, his flat palm having met your cheek before he had stormed out of the room, screaming and spitting.

Valentino had been with you after barely any time at all.

“I didn't—”, you choked out, voice trembling, “I didn't mean to do it, sir, I swear, he just startled me, and, I mean, he didn't pay for more, he wanted to —, he wanted to—”

One hand of his cupped your cheek, golden claw gently tracing over your jaw. Even with him crouched down in front of you, he seemed ridiculously tall. “Hey—, relax, sweetheart.” At an exhale, red smoke coiled around you, assaulting your senses. Instinctively, your raised shoulders fell as tension bled from your muscles. “I get it. I understand.”

With how utterly merciless Valentino was known to be, it took a few moments for you to actually understand the meaning of his words. Even then, you barely dared to let go of the dreadful fear curled in your stomach. “You do?”

“Of course I do”, he said, eyes half-lidded behind heart-shaped glasses. His voice was soft enough to cause more tears, now of relief, to drip down your cheeks. “You know, I was really surprised when that patron came up to me, demanding to have you fired, if not killed for your disobedience. You're usually such an obedient girl — I was wondering what actually happened. Good job for being honest with me.”

Hope bloomed in your chest, your eyes widening. Streaks of mascara and eyeshadow, black and colourful, ran down your wet cheeks. “So you're not upset with me?”

“Upset with you? Of course not, amorcito. You were scared, that's alright. It happens, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your breath hitched in a stifled sob, lips, the gloss now smudged, curling up into a pitiful mockery of a smile. “Yeah. Thank you, Val.”

This could have gone much worse. Your hands were still shaking, anxiety thrumming underneath your skin, and yet Valentino didn't even seem particularly upset. Some higher being — whether that was Lucifer or God, you didn't really care — must have blessed you, somehow.

“Of course, baby.” The moment Valentino stood once more, he towered over you, his shadow swallowing you up. “Now, follow me, yeah?”

Your legs struggled to support your weight, knees feeling weak as you trailed behind him through corridors you didn't recognise. Your steps were unsure, the heels, ridiculously high, only adding to your troubles. You have half a mind to stop yourself from asking where you're going.

It's entirely unnecessary, either way.

You arrive but a moment later, the noise of a heavy door falling shut causing you to flinch; where Valentino was in front of you just a second ago, he was now behind you, a looming presence at your back.

It was a studio; not the fancy kind actual stars like Angel Dust filmed in, but a smaller one, the light bulb flickering, the sheets on the bed stained. Voxtech cameras were pointed at the mattress.

“Val—?”

“Bend over, baby.”

“You said you're not angry with me.” The words tumbled out of your mouth without your permission, a panicked high-pitched tone. “You said you're not—”

“And I'm not, as long as you hurry the fuck up and do what I tell you to.” His voice was sharp. Instinctively, you obeyed, bending over the edge of the bed, nausea churning in your stomach. “See, that guy you were a bitch to was a regular. Good money. I gotta show him you're sorry, sweetheart. You understand that, right?”

For a moment, you didn't get a word out, throat tight as tears spilled past your lashes. Eventually, you managed a shaky; “Yes, Valentino.”

“There we go. Knew you'd get why I have to do this.”

Large hands settled on your thighs, the touch making you flinch; his claws, all too sharp, teased at your skin, leaving faint scratch marks, before they prodded at your folds.

This, by now, should have been routine. It was; and yet, the idea of this being a punishment had you tensing, muscles locking up while Valentino thrust one claw into you, only to grunt, irritated.

“Ungrateful bitch”, he spat, one hand settling on your lower back, pinning you to the bed while another fumbled with his belt, metal clinking. “That's what I get for tryin' to be nice and preparing you — tightest cunt I've ever seen. Loosen the fuck up or deal with it.”

“I'm sorry.” Your voice shook, though the threat of violence, of pain, didn't help with relaxing in the slightest. Instead, you instinctively clenched around the digit, only to whimper when he yanked it back out.

“Sure doesn't seem like it.”

The fat head of his cock, pierced, the metal cold, pressed against you, then pushed inside; you were unable to stop yourself from letting out a pitiful noise, sounding more like a wounded animal than a practiced porn star.

Valentino didn't seem to mind it one bit.

Your vision blackened out for a moment when he bottomed out inside of you, the pain agonising. For a moment, you were certain he was tearing you from the inside out. His hips slapped against your plush ones, building up a steady rhythm; one set of his hands grabbed onto your hips, claws digging into your skin, using his grip for leverage to pull you back against him

“Some wetness would help us out here, y'know”, Valentino mumbled, complaining, bitching, like this was your fault. It probably was.

The only response you were able to come up with was a choked out sob, a dull ache steadily present in your abdomen, only interrupted by sharp stabbing pain whenever Valentino's tip hit an impossibly deep spot inside of you.

This couldn't have possibly gotten worse — or so you thought, tears dripping down your face, your claws ripping the sheets as you scrambled for purchase, only for it to get so much more agonising when, all of a sudden, his hand closed around your throat, squeezing.

You weren't able to breathe.

Instinctively, you clenched around him, thighs shaking. If he wasn't still holding you up, you would have collapsed.

“Fuck, you're so damn tight.” Valentino groaned, low and raspy. His tongue lapped at your neck, leaving trails of pink saliva to drip down your shoulders, your chest. “We could've had such a pleasant time together, baby, if only you hadn't been such a disobedient slut. Hate that you're making me do this.”

His pace was unforgiving, the metal of his belt buckle hitting your hip with every other thrust, surely leaving bruises. Not that it mattered — Valentino did provide you with full coverage makeup, after all.

Out of the corner of your eye, you focused on the red dots of the many cameras, blinking, recording. By now, numbness spread through you, a small blessing. You weren't certain just how long it went on; only that, eventually, Valentino came with a groan, filling you up, making you whimper.

When his grip on your throat loosened for a split second, allowing you to suck a burning breath into your lungs, it felt like Heaven.

“Use your words, baby. Talk to me.”

“Val, 'm sorry—”

“Yeah?”

“I'm sorry”, you repeated, the words barely audible through sobs, “I'm sorry, Val, I'm sorry—”

Suddenly, his hand, still on your throat, yanked your head up, his lips clashing against yours; the very moment you opened your mouth, pliant with submission, with exhaustion, smoke flooded it, you choking on it.

Your mind felt muddled, mouth dry even as saliva trickled out of your lips, jaw slack.

Faintly, you were able to feel his cum drip out of your cunt and down your thighs, sticky.

“Now”, Valentino said, voice a sultry purr, “Why don't you wait here, I'll send you your client and you apologise properly to him?”

Mind filled with scarlet plumes, you barely knew what you were agreeing to, nodding mindlessly. “Yes, Valentino.”

“That's what I like to hear. Good girl.”

When multiple pairs of footsteps echoed through the room, you, even in your hazy state, had the bad feeling that you were going to be having a long night.

i won't lie i didn't proofread this yet.. tomorrow... ALSO FIRST POST YIPPEEE

#Hazbin Hotel #Hazbin Hotel headcanons #Hazbin Hotel Valentino #Valentino x reader #Valentino smut #Hazbin Hotel x reader #Hazbin Hotel smut #valentino hazbin hotel #Hazbin Valentino x reader #Hazbin Valentino smut #Hazbin Hotel x you #Hazbin hotel imagines #Hazbin Hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel headcanon #Hazbin x reader #Hazbin x you #Hazbin x y/n #Hazbin smut #Hazbin fanfic #Hazbin imagines #Hazbin imagine #tw.noncon #tw.abuse #tw.manipulation #tw.violence #tw.drugging #tw.choking #❥ my writing #❥ valentino

[ellecdc]

My love!! I have an idea for fic (only if you want to of course) james potter x reader where james is obsessed with reader’s tits and after a minor couple arguments james was still sulking and reader wants him to be the first one to talk to her so she wear very revealing clothes to tease him and he give in.

It doesn’t have to be a smut, just teasing and fluff!

hahaha awe this is so funny - the best part is, it would so work!!! Thanks for requesting 🫶

James Potter x fem!reader

CW: mention of boobs/tits/love of tits - no smut, joke about dying from suffocation on account of boobies

You were being petty; both of you were. In fact, the two of you seemed to be working overtime just to stay mad at each other at this point.

You can’t even really remember what you had argued about in the first place that caused this rift between you and James; all you knew was that you were not going to be the first to apologize.

It had been a few days since the big blow up that saw James uncharacteristically stern and firm in his words and left you feeling horribly defensive in response. Words were said, feelings were hurt, and now you were here.

Here being this awkward quasi-polite energy in your few measly interactions as you tried to co-exist in the same flat.

He made dinner one night - shrimp korma and a side of homemade naan - and you may have been mad, but you weren’t a jerk, so you thanked him for it.

You had been cleaning the flat one day and started a load of wash. You had more than enough room for more clothes, and not doing James’ wash just for the sake of it wasn’t worth the extra hit to your water bill (which wasn’t an issue, but old habits die hard in your case), so you threw his in too. And once it was washed and dried, well, you figured you might as well fold it and put it away for him. 

He had to begrudgingly thank you for that as well.

So now it was the weekend, and the two of you were clearly dying to update each other on your weeks. You couldn’t help but admit that you really missed James. You missed chatting with him, you missed laughing with him, you missed venting to him, and you missing cuddling with him.

There were other things you missed but... that was neither here nor there. 

All this to say, the feud needed to end.

But you were steadfast in your stance that you were not going to break first.

The idea came to you yesterday morning when James returned from his run sans shirt and muscles glistening with sweat in a way that actually had your mouth watering like some kind of deranged off-brand Pavlov experiment. The worst part was that James had noticed you ogling him and walked away to shower (alone, the bastard) with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

No matter, this just served to give you your brilliant master plan to win him back.

You had something James adored... two things, as a matter of fact.

Anyone who knows James Potter knows that James is a certified Boob Guy™. More specifically, James Potter loved your tits. You had two assets free to use in this battle, and you weren’t going to let that advantage go to waste. 

The weather, it seemed, supported your master plan and was finally warm and sunny enough to break out some of your more... revealing clothing. Today’s ensemble consisted of a particularly low neckline and tight-fitting tank top. You gathered a book and a bottle of water as you walked towards the back door for the terrace. James, being completely unable to break his good mannerdness even in the face of petty feuds, jumped up to get the door for you when he noticed that your hands were full. 

You made a point to use your elbows to encourage the girls a little closer together as he approached, causing him to stumble in his steps as his eyes strayed from his destination.

“Thanks, Jamie.” You murmured quietly, making sure a cool sense of indifference still coloured your tone. That seemed to shake James from his reverie as he looked up at you, a look of regret seeming to cross his face briefly at not being able to do what he would normally opt to in this situation (i.e., shove his face between them and die due to suffocation). 

“’Course.” He offered instead of saying “oh my god I love your boobies” and cleared his throat, closing the door gently behind you as you made your way to a lounge chair. 

You knew James wouldn’t have gotten far, so you read a few pages before deciding to step up this little ruse.

You slipped your tank top off to display your torso, boobs only supported by a thin bandeau wrapping around your chest. You poured a little water into your hair and then onto your chest to cool off when you heard a solid thunk on the panned glass of your back door. 

When you turned to look, you saw James’ retreating form and the tell-tale imprint of his forehead against the window where he had been standing previously. 

Though you knew you made an impact today, James seemed resolute in his sulking. No matter, tomorrow was a brand-new day.

Being a brand-new day, your morning outfit was a pair of joggers that you rolled the waist band a few times to expose more abdomen paired with a cropped top that was probably a touch too cropped to begin with, let alone paired with your currently braless state.

You could have sworn you heard James try (and fail) to suppress a groan as you entered the kitchen. You hid a smirk as you offered him a faint ‘morning’ and began readying yourself a cup of tea.

Apparently, James’ self-restraint snapped when you stood on your tip-toes to reach the honey on the second shelf of your cupboard; the action of you raising your arm causing your shirt to also lift sinfully.

“Angel.” He keened, causing you to turn your (what you hoped to look like an) innocent expression on him.

“Yes, Jamie?”

He groaned again and stood from the breakfast table, taking slow, cautious steps towards you. “I’m so sorry, love I... I hate that I let us go this long upset with each other.”

Your mouth pinched to the side as you spread your arms – inviting James into your embrace which he was all too eager to accept. “I’m sorry too, bubs. I’ve been immature.”

He half-chuckled half-groaned into your shoulder as the two of you relished in the feel of being in the other’s arms. 

“You are a cheeky little minx, torturing me like this.” He muttered.

“Like what?”

James scoffed and pulled back to look at you incredulously, but any mirth in his face was completely curtailed by the fondness oozing from his warm brown eyes.

“Oh, I’ve missed you.” He said as he bent his knees to be at eye level with your tits before he shoved his face right between them.

You rolled your eyes though he couldn’t see it, asking “who? Me or my tits?”

He was quiet for a moment as he thought about his answer. “Both?” He said, voice muffled from his place in your chest.

“I’ll allow it on account of your withdrawal.” You conceded. 

Note to self: all future arguments can be solved by flashing a little under-boob. 

#ask elle #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter imagine #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #ellecdc fics

[luveline]

could i please request a blurb w hotch like the scaring off a creep one u did with james 🥹🫶

Thank you for your request! fem!reader, tw unwanted advance

When a creep at the bar won't leave you alone, you look for the most intimidating man in the room. You know it might make things worse for you, but his suit jacket screams businessman, maybe lawyer, and while lots of lawyers are scumbags, he's standing with another man and two women, neither of which are under his arm, so you take your chances. 

"Hey, I'm talking to you." A cruel hand tightens around your wrist.

"I already told you I have a boyfriend," you say, pulling your hand away from the creeper's reach. 

"I already told you I don't believe it," he says. 

You rag your hand out of his touch and weave through people, until you're close enough to almost throw the businessman off his feet as you slot yourself under his arm. He stiffens, and his friends all react defensively, but luckily he puts up his hand and nobody tries to tackle you. 

The creeper is a couple steps behind you, and he doesn't see the strange reaction your 'boyfriend' has to your hiding in his side, thankfully.

"If you don't leave me alone," you say as bravely as you're able, hand curling with real nervousness into the businessman's shirt, "my boyfriend's gonna ask you outside." 

Creeper looks at you, shocked, and then at the businessman with raised eyebrows, as if to say, Is she fucking for real? 

The businessman's arm settles properly around your shoulder, his hand braceleting your naked upper arm. 

"Did you hear her or not?" he asks, and his voice is so steady, so commanding, he startles not only the creeper but you, too. 

"I can repeat it for you, if you'd like," says his dark-haired friend. She's almost as fierce as he is. 

Finally, finally, your creeper admits defeat and turns away. You watch him walk all the way to the door, and then you turn around and hang your head. 

"Sir," you say, "I am so, so sorry to just barge into you like that." 

"Are you hurt?" he asks. 

You look up, blinking. "Oh, no, not really. He grabbed me pretty hard, but that's when I came up to you." You smile at him and his friends. "You're the most intimidating person here. No offence." 

He rolls his eyes at the wave of his friends' raucous laughter.

"He absolutely is," says a shorter blonde woman, grinning. 

You nod your apologies at all of them and turn back to the maybe-not-businessman, who's really quite handsome both smiling and glaring. You decide you like the smiling more. 

"Could I buy you a drink?" you ask. "As an apology? Or a thank you." 

"No." He holds his arm out like he might steer you away and your heart drops, but he adds, "I'll buy you one. If that's alright." 

There's nothing forceful in his offer. The pit fills. Excitement blooms.

"That's alright," you confirm, words coloured by a tell-tale happiness. 

He guides you to the bar with a big hand behind your shoulder. Good-natured laughter follows from his table of friends, as well as a short but enthusiastic cheer of, "Go Hotch." 

"What's a hotch?" you ask, perplexed.

He laughs, a light, airy thing, at odds with his stern looks. "No idea. My name's Aaron, by the way." 

#aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner blurb

[symp4nat]

hi lovely, i saw u wanted requests so how about painting clarisse's nails for capture the flag? cuz i noticed they're painted black and it could be a little ritual they do every year, xx.

Nails

clarisse la rue x fem!reader

authors note: i have headcanoned that there are 2 floors in cabins thank you

summary - um.. as says in request... and a little more cute moments! :)))

word count: 600

warnings: nail polish?, hot nicknames from clarisse

You were well versed in many things. Nail painting being one of them. Just, not on your own nails, but especially Clarisse's. Not that she would admit it, but she really... really... enjoyed it when you painted her nails.

Her nail beds were fine, usually filed. They were pretty. Like her.

-

You rushed into her cabin with a bag under your arm, a hair straightener under the other and her polished spear in your hands. As you entered the cabin, you almost stabbed someone with her spear and you squeaked out, "Sorry!"

You ran upstairs towards Clarisse's corner where her bed laid. You huffed and set everything down on the top of a stand. You leaned her spear against the wall. "No... c'mon, mamas, you told me you were only doing my nails," Clarisse groaned.

"No, we- we have to do your make up, your hair and your nails... And we'll only be ready in time for Capture the Flag if we start now, chop chop!"

You opened your bag and reached for a few colours of nail polish. You set them on the bed alongside a bunch of makeup products, all with labermaker-labels stuck onto them so you knew which ones matched you and which ones matched Clarisse.

"Get your colour real quick and I'll start," You said as you grabbed some brushes.

"I'm still stunned you're not an Aphrodite kid, are you sure you got claimed by the right parent," she asked. With a roll of your eyes, you said, "I'm sure I was." She glanced at the colours as she spoke. "Do you have black," she asked.

You whined, "But black isn't cute," you exclaimed. She raised an eyebrow and with a huff, the black nail polish was in your hand with the lid open. You sat on the bed and gestured for her to give you her hand. She placed her hand in yours.

Your tongue poked out while you tried to concentrate. Once you were done with one hand, you reached for the other and began working on it. You wiped off the excess with a tissue and looked at her hands proudly. "Your hands look even more prettier than usual," you joked.

You applied the quick-dry layer of the nail polish and admired her.

She went to touch her nail and you grabbed her hand. "Clarisse, I swear."

You grabbed the big mirror next to the bed which was there for you when you went to do your makeup in the cabin. You plugged in your hair straightener and sat on the floor after turning it on. You sectioned your hair and began straightening it. "You should stop burning your hair follicles, y'know," Clarisse asked, "Your curly hair looks good."

You shrugged. "It's not the worst? But straight hair makes me feel confident, C," you said.

She knew you were stubborn, so what was the point in her even trying to lecture you. "Want me to straighten your hair," you asked her. She yelped, "Oh hell no, I like my hair!" You giggled as she was being defensive. "I do too," you said.

You turned off and unplugged your straightener and returned it to its bag. You went to stand behind her and your fingers tangled in her hair. You played with her hair and then pinned some of it back to look nice and also battle-able. you tried the ends and then applied a gently hue of blush to her face. You added lipstick and you grinned proudly. "Eyeliner," you questioned.

She pecked your lips a few times and spoke.

With a laugh and a slight red hue on her cheeks, Clarisse grabbed her spear. "Capture the Flag's about to start, let's go."

You huffed. "Fine, my hair looks... fine... and I look shitty, great."

"Hey," she gently snapped, "Don't say that, princess, you look great. And by the way? Thank you... for sharpening and polishing my spear, mamas."

"Yeah, 'course, anything for you," you said as you watched her run out.

-

After Capture the Flag, you went into Clarisse's cabin. You sat on her bed and grabbed her hands. "I didn't appreciate how you almost killed Percy... but I can't blame you, 'cause the... thing... happened," you said as you gazed into her eyes. Your eyes then landed on her nails.

You irritably screeched, "Clarisse!"

Her nails were practically entirely scuffed off. "We're redoing these, I swear," you groaned.

#clarisse x reader #clarisse pjo #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue fluff #clarisse la rue x y/n #pjo tv show #percy jackson show #percy jackon and the olympians

[communistkenobi]

Hi, genuine good faith question if you'd like! How is TOS racist? It was my understanding that the OG Series was like, huge for equality in media?

I’m speaking primarily about the content of TOS itself, not its historical impact - I understand it had various historic firsts in terms of having characters of colour in respectable roles, which I’m not dismissing. My experience with the discourse on here surrounding the show is that people front-load these character representations as emblematic of the show’s progressive politics. Which, if we want to go that route, TOS was contemporary to the US civil rights movement, which provides us with a handy measuring stick to see how TOS actually grapples with race, not just the presence of characters of colour themselves. I'm going to be kind of defensive in this explanation, not towards you specifically, but because I have had this conversation with people online many, many, many times, and so any defensiveness on my part is in anticipation of arguments I know will come up as a result of making the basic claim that a show made in America in the 1960s is racist. I'm also going to be copy + pasting from an older post I've made on the subject since it's been a while now since I've watched TOS so some of the details are fuzzy.

Like okay, the premise of TOS is that the Enterprise, as an ambassador of Starfleet/the Federation, is seeking out new alien life to study. The Prime Directive prohibits the Enterprise crew from interfering with the development of any alien culture or people while they do this, so the research they collect needs to be done in an unobtrusive way. I think this is the first point at which people balk at the argument that TOS is racist or has a colonial conception of the world - the Enterprise’s mission is premised on non-interference, and I think when people hear ‘colonial’ as a descriptor they (understandably, obviously) assume it is describing active conquest, genocide, and dispossession. Even setting aside all the times where Kirk does directly interfere with the “development” of a people or culture (usually because they’ve “stagnated” culturally, because a culture "without conflict" cannot evolve or “develop” beyond its current presumed capacity - he is pretty explicitly imposing his own values onto another culture in order to force them to change in a particular way), or the times when the Enterprise is actually looking to extract resources from a given planet or people, I’m not exactly making this claim, or rather, that’s not the only thing I’m describing when calling TOS racist/colonial.

The show's presentation of scientific discovery and inquiry is anthropological - the “object” of analysis is alien/foreign culture, meaning that when the Enterprise crew comes into contact with a new being or person, this person is always read first and foremost through the level of (the Enterprise’s understanding of) culture. Their behaviour, beliefs, dress, way of speaking, appearance, and so on are always reflective of their culture as a whole, and more importantly, that their racial or phenotypic characteristics define the boundaries of their culture. Put another way, culture is interpreted, navigated, and bound racially - the show presents aliens as a Species, but these species are racially homogeneous, flattening race to a natural, biological difference that is always physically apparent and presented through the lens of scientific objectivity, as "species" is a unit of biological taxonomy. Basically species is a shorthand for race. This is the standard of most sci-fi/fantasy genre work, so this is not a sin unique to Star Trek.

Because of this however, Kirk and Co are never really interacting with individuals, they are interacting with components of a (foreign, exotic, fundamentally different) culture, the same way we understand that a biologist can generalize about a species using the example of an individual 'specimen'. And when the Enterprise interacts with these cultures, they very frequently measure them using a universalized scale of development - they have a teleological (which is to say, evolutionary) view of culture, ie, that all cultures go from savage to rational, primitive to advanced, economically simple to economically complex (ie, to capitalist modes of production). And the metrics they are judging these cultures by are fundamentally Western ones, always emphasising to the audience that the final destination of all cultures (that are worthy of advancing beyond their current limited/“primitive” stages) is a culture identical to the Federation, a culture that can itself engage in this anthropological mission to catalogue all life as fitting within a universal set of practices and racial similarities they call “culture.”

This is a western, colonial understanding of culture - racially and spatially homogeneous people comprise the organs of a social totality, ie, a society, which can then be analysed as an “object,” as a “phenomenon,” by the scientists in order to extract information from them to produce and advance state (ie Federation) knowledge. The Enterprise crew are allowed to be individuals, are allowed to be subjects with a capacity for reason, contradiction, emotion, compassion, and even moments of savagery or violence, without those things being assigned to their “race” or “culture” as a whole, but the people they interact with are only components of a whole which are “discovered” by the Enterprise as opportunities to expand and refine the Federation’s body of knowledge.

Spock is actually a good example of what I'm talking about, because he is an exception to this rule - unlike the others in the crew, his behaviour is always read as a symptom of his innate Vulcan-ness, where his human and Vulcan halves war for dominance in his mind and character. Bones (the doctor, one of the main cast) constantly comments on Spock's inability to feel things, that he is callous and unsympathetic, ruled by Vulcan logic to such an extreme that his rationality is a form of irrationality, as his Vulcan blood prohibits him from tempering logic with human emotion and intuition. Now you can argue that Bones is a stand-in for the racists of the world, that Spock proves Bones wrong in that he is able to feel but merely keeps it under wraps, that Vulcans are not biologically incapable of emotion but merely live in a socially repressive culture, but this still engages in the racial logic of the show - Vulcans are a racially-bound species with a single monolithic culture, and Spock's ability to express and feel 'human emotions' is the metric by which he is granted human subjectivity and sympathy.

And on the flip side you have the Klingons - a “race” that is uniformly savage, backward, violent, and dangerous. In the episode Day of the Dove, where Klingons board the Enterprise along with an alien cloud that makes everyone suddenly aggressive and racist (this show is insane lol), the Enterprise crew begins acting violent and racist, but the Klingons don’t change. They aren’t more violent than before (because they already were fundamentally violent and racist), and they don’t become less violent when the cloud eventually leaves (because they are never able to emerge from their violence and savagery as a social condition or external imposition - they simply are that way). Klingons are racially, behaviourally, psychologically, and culturally homogeneous, universally violent and immune to reason, and their racial characteristics are both physical manifestations of this universal violence as well as the origin of it. The writers and creators of TOS are explicitly invoking the orientalist idea of the “Mongolian horde,” representing both the American fear of Soviet global takeover as well as blatantly racist fears about “Asiatics” (a word used in the show, particularly in The Omega Glory where a fear of racialised communist takeover is made explicit) dominating the world.

This is colonial thinking! Like, fundamentally, at its core, this is colonial white supremacist thinking. Now this is not because TOS invents these tropes or is the origin of them, it is not individually responsible for these racial and colonial logics - these conceptions are endemic to Western thought, and I am not expecting a television show to navigate its way outside of this current colonial paradigm of scientific knowledge. I’m also not expecting an average person watching this to pick out all the intricacies of this and link it to the colonial history of Europe or the colonial history of western philosophy/thought. But this base premise of Star Trek is why the show is fundamentally colonial - even if it was the case that the crew never intervened in any alien conflict, never extracted any material resources from other people, this would still be colonial logic and colonial thinking. The show has a fundamentally colonial imagination when it comes to exploration, discovery, and culture.

I think a good place to end is the opening sequence. The show's first line is always "Space! The final frontier." I do not think the word frontier is meant metaphorically or poetically - I think the show is being honest about its conception of space as an infinitely vast, infinitely exotic frontier from which a globally Western civilisation (which the Enterprise is an emblem of) can extract resources, be they material or epistemic

#tos.txt #< have more posts in there also

[ineffable-suffering]

INEFFABLE META MASTERPOST

Because I'm slowly losing count and need to organize. So, here's all my self-written metas or ones that I reblogged with my own added theories and commentary! In rainbow colours, naturally.

1 – Aziraphale, I love you. But you lied. And here's why. My most lengthy and proudest meta about the Final Fifteen and why I think Aziraphale lied on purpose. (Also: The absolute darling @esthermitchell-author bravely fought their way through it and wrote up some more interesting points and different takes on what I came up with. If you want to go down a S2 rabbit hole with us, go read it here.)

2 – Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator (links below) A three-part meta in which I try to analyse and explain that all of the minisodes in Season 2 are not objective narrations but actually Aziraphale's memories.

Part 1: The Story of Job

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

Part 3: The Story of the Magic Show in 1941

3 – The Jane Austen Ball and why it was never about Nina and Maggie A meta in which I go into unnecessarily great detail about how the Whickber Street Meeting Cotillion Ball was meant to be Aziraphale's confession to Crowley.

4 – Crowley & Aziraphale were never free (reblog) A reblog of @baggvinshield's post in which I explain why miscommunication is the single biggest ineffable enemy in Season 2.

5 – In Defense of Aziraphale (double reblog) A double try at explaining why I think Aziraphale's POV in the Final Fifteen is just as horrible as Crowley's and why I don't think him "choosing" to go back to Heaven was the only point of his character journey.

6 – The Art of Miscommunication: Ineffable Edition A meta in which i once again explain why miscommunication is the single biggest ineffable enemy in Season 2.

7– Season 2 Bookshop Shot Meta A meta where I briefly loose my mind because of a single bookshop frame in Season 2.

8 – What if it wasn't Aziraphale and Crowley who performed the 25 Lazarii miracle? A mini-meta in which I propose the theory that Jimbriel helped with the miracle to hide himself away from Heaven & Hell.

9 – Things in Good Omens Season 2 I still find weird (reblog) A reblog of @ok-sims and many other great OPs' thoughts on the weird loose strings in Season 2 and what unanswered questions I still have myself.

10 – The Deleted Bookshop Scene (reblog) A reblog of @skirtdyke's video and @i-only-ever-asked-questions' smart thoughts on it, with my own overly-excited 'what that could have meant for the "It's too late" line'-theroy.

11 – The Bentley Handle Easter Egg A meta I can proudly say has been liked by none other than Mr. Neil Gaiman himself about Crowley's Bentley handle that might have existed before the Bentley ever did.

12 – The F*cking Eccles Cakes A meta where I briefly loose my mind because of a pastry. (Addendum: People said very smart things in the comments of the post!)

14 – Re: "You go too fast for me, Crowley" A meta in which I make myself sad by connecting that infamous line to Aziraphale assuming Crowley wanted the Holy Water as a suicide pill.

13 – Trauma-Dumping on your plants: The Anthony J. Crowley Chronicles A meta on why Crowley treats his plants the way that he does.

14 – Demonic Mental Health Awareness Post In which I talk about why I want to get Crowley a therapy voucher.

15 – The Curious Incident of The Flaming Sword in Good Omens A meta on why the Flaming Sword has no deeper meaning. Or does it? (Updated: here's a reblog from @queerfables who did a wonderfully exellent job at calmly explaining all the swordy questions I was yelling about! Consider this meta solved.)

16 – Ceci n'est pas une plume A meta in which I'm a bit of a nerd for language and also explain why learning French and magic the human way says so much about Aziraphale as a character.

17 – The meaning of "I forgive you" A meta in which I explain what both "I forgive you"s mean and why Aziraphale will always fight for what is right until he wins. Also, the lovely @sharksbeerr translated it to Chinese on Weibo!

18 – Memory, or the lack thereof, in Season 2 A little reblog on how memory is a big and unresolved, leaky-bucket theme in Season 2.

Addendum:

The one non-spoiler-y ask I could come up with about S2 that was actually answered by Neil, yay!

Also, this wholesome little post I added to that Mr. Gaiman also reblogged. :‘)

*** This is a work in progress and will get updated every time I post a new meta! ***

#good omens #good omens season 2 #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #gos2 #go2 #good omens 2 #good omens meta #good omens s2 #my own meta #good omens season 1 #meta masterpost #ineffable-suffering

[nibbelraz]

imagine if linguang jun was like, 15% more uncle still. :) are you winning nephew? hmm your weird little crush isnt very good at picking up demon hints huh. check this out; hello you little squishy rat ^.^ it sure is a shame that you're clearly wearing a trinket of my nephews favour or else I could beat the shit out of you for existing rn. hm oh yes that hairpin IS making it very politically difficult for anyone to rip your limbs off. haha yes if you were wearing robes of his colours then it would be near impossible. (ur fuckin welcome nephew. gods i have to do EVERYTHING around here. your seduction skills are in the negatives and yet he still seems to reciprocate as best a human can.) sqh the next day decked out in 90% mbj gifts like ahah it's not too much to be wearing all this, right? mbj heart eyes mf. its the bare minimum actually qinghua. you should wear more.

Linguang Jun trying to be supportive in his own way and get the tiny pathetic human and his nephew together is so funny because he's LITERALLY threatening Shang Qinghua, but it's STRATEGIC AND NECESSARY SO THAT HE CAN UNDERSTAND

The funniest part tho that I can see happening is Qinghua still misinterpreting it, like he can't understand Mobei's demon courting but even if he wears his colors he still doesn't think that's reciprocating he's just wearing them as defense

Linguang Jun is screaming he's trying SO HARD

#svsss #shang qinghua #mobei jun #moshang #linguang jun #hES TRYING #ask #nib text

[femscottlang]

Kinktober Week One- Formal Wear with Emily Prentiss

Summary- Every year around New Years Rossi hosts a party at this mansion. Every year you help him cook. Every year you all drink too much wine. This year Emily Prentiss wore a suit.

Word count- 1.3k

Warnings- 18+ MDNI, a little bit of exhibitionism if you squint, Oral R! receiving, lil bit of faceriding, fingering, switch! Reader, switch! Emily, sorry about your wine Rossi my bad, Emily in a suit is a warning in itself. 

Authors Note- This is my first time doing kinktober!! I feel like formal wear/ team party is a pretty popular trope when it comes to CM fanfics, but it's popular for a reason. It’s SO GOOD. part two of flustered is coming i promise !! i'm also working on a second part of red blue and black. Anyways, back to Emily.

You had arrived early to help Rossi set up and to be his sous chef, since you were the only one besides hotch he trusted not to cut your own fingers off. The BAU were not known for their cooking abilities. He insisted on everyone coming in formal attire so now you were stuck cutting onions in a raspberry-coloured satin dress and an apron that had “Kiss me I’m Italian.” in large font. You used the back of your hand to brush your hair out of your face, huffing as you prayed that the low ponytail wouldn’t ruin your hair.

You and Rossi were sat at the kitchen table sipping scotch while you waited for the rest of the people to arrive. He cleared his throat “So.” 

“So?” you asked, turning towards him and tilting your head.

“What’s going on between you and Prentiss?” he asked in a sinister tone, leaning towards you. 

“Okay, we are not doing this” you laughed, shaking your head as you felt your cheeks heat up.

“Doing what? You can’t have that much tension with a coworker when you work with profilers. You can’t get away with anything” he chucked, taking a sip of scotch.

“I can’t argue with that, but there's nothing going on between us” You explained with a shrug. 

“Yeah, I don’t believe you.” He said in a sing-songy tone as people started to file in and make their way to you and Rossi. The glass of scotch made your insides feel warm and allowed you to relax. That was until Emily Prentiss walked in. She had one hand in her pocket and her phone in the other. She was wearing slacks, a white button-up with the top 4 buttons undone, an untied tie tucked under her collar, and a blazer. You felt JJ use her knuckle to close your mouth, not realizing you had let your mouth fall open at the sight of her. You smiled nervously at JJ “You didn’t see anything” you joked, waving a finger at her. 

“I won’t tattle on you,” she said with a grin, putting her hands up in defense. 

Prentiss looked around the room before she saw you. She gave a lopsided grin before making her way over to you, brushing a strand of hair away from your cheek, “Happy New Year” She said, only loud enough for you to hear. A completely normal greeting should not feel so private and intimate. Your breath hitched as she placed her hand on your back  “Happy New Year, Emily” You murmured, leaning back into her touch. 

“Alright, Dinner!” Rossi said, snapping you two out of your little world. 

You got off the barstool and went to the dining room with Emily not far behind you. She pulled out your chair for you as you sat down, looking up at her with a raised brow and upturned lips. “I guess chivalry isn’t dead” You joked, adjusting the skirt of your dress. She pulled out the chair to the left of you and sat down. “It will be by the end of the night,” She said, giving you a mischievous grin. You gasped, smacking her leg playfully which led to her grabbing your wrist under the table and placing it on your lap “Behave” she said, patting your knee before resting her hand right above it. 

You scoffed “It’s cute that you think you’re in charge” you hummed before taking a bite of the meal you helped prepare, moaning at the taste. She leaned over to whisper in your ear, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I know what you’re doing. We can play this game but I will win” She whispered, moving her attention back to her plate of food. 

At the beginning of the meal, she would rub your knee, occasionally moving her hand up before putting it right back down to a more appropriate position. That was until after a couple of glasses of red wine. Her hand started to rest further and further up, before earning a subtle smack from you. She chuckled, pouring the last of the bottle into your glass. 

Rossi went to get up before Emily motioned for him to sit back down “I can go get it, it’s no problem.” she said with a polite smile before looking down at you “Will you show me where it is?” she asked, feigning innocence, but you knew better. You sneered at her “Of course” You said, getting up and leading her toward his wine cellar in the basement. The farther away you were from the rest of the team, the closer she got to you. 

“I love this view” she teased, making you cover your backside with your hands “Aww don’t cover up. I’ve seen you much more vulnerable than this” She murmured.

“You are an insatiable woman, do you know that?” you chuckled, shaking your head as you opened the door to the wine cellar. You walked in and began looking around for another bottle. She made her way in front of you and backed you into the table in the middle of the stone room. You reached out and grabbed her blazer to encourage her to get closer. She traced your bottom lip with her thumb before kissing you, gripping your hair, and running her hand up and down your back. She was holding onto you like you would run away if she let go, but her kisses were gentle. Emily was always so gentle. Not because she was afraid to break you, but more like you were visiting her from the clouds. Touching you with the fear that her lips would go right through you. “Up,” she murmured, helping you as you jumped in order to sit on the table. You could feel the cold stone underneath you in stark contrast to her burning hands moving to hoist your dress up to your hips. 

 Her lips moved down your neck, leaving bite marks that you were scared to walk out of there with as her hands moved further up until she reached your core. When she felt that there was nothing between her fingers and your pussy she let out a groan, leaning her head back “Fuck. I must’ve been a saint in my last life.” 

You let out a breathy moan “I didn’t want any lines showing through my dress” You said defensively, gasping as her middle finger circled your clit. You held on to her blazer, burying your face in her neck “Sure, that’s the only reason you have no panties on” she teased before dropping down to her knees, her face centimetres away from your core. You couldn’t help but admire the view, brushing your fingers through her hair as she dragged her tongue lazily up your slit. You gasped, eyes rolling back as you leaned back on your elbow to watch her "If I knew you were wearing a suit, I wouldn't've worn anything"

“Fuck, really? God, you’re so pretty like this.” She hummed, tilting her head “It’s nice to see you put that snarky mouth to use,” You responded as pulled her hair gently, just enough to hold her still as you moved your hips against her face. 

She whimpered, running her hands up and down your legs before gripping your calves to lean in more. You covered your mouth as you felt your high approach, pushing her face impossibly closer. You fell back against the table as she helped you ride out your climax. Your chest heaved, trying to push her away when she didn’t stop “Em please,” you begged, squirming away from her, but she just pulled you back towards her.

She had mercy and stood up, moving to the other side of the table to plant kisses all over your face. “C’mon. We’ve been gone too long” she said, helping you stand and smoothing out your dress. You took off your heels out of fear of falling over after she made your legs practically jelly. "After this, were are going back to my place and I am going to fuck you in this fucking suit of yours." you pushed your heels into her chest for her to carry before grabbing her collar and pulling her out of the room "I have to wear this more often..." She muttered as the two of you made your way back to the dining room where your coworkers sat with smirks on their faces.

“Nothing between you too my ass,” Rossi scoffed "You forgot the wine."

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss fanfiction #Emily prentiss x reader smut #emily prentiss smut

[waevrs]

ꜰᴏʀɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ..?

Pairings: Natasha x Doctor!Reader

Summary: you thought Natasha forgot your birthday...

Warnings: smut MINORS DNI

A/N: This was actually written on my birthday👀

It was your birthday today, not that anyone remembered. 

You had started your day like you do every year, waiting up until midnight to see a "happy birthday!" text or someone to come into your room and give you something. But no, like every year it just ends up in disappointment. It didn't help that your girlfriend, Natasha, had taken a mission yesterday, completely forgetting that it was your birthday.

You can't really blame her though, you've never made a big deal about your birthday. Sure, you've told her once or twice when she asked, but other than that you've never been one to celebrate. So how can you expect others to celebrate?

So, you trudged your way back to your and your girlfriend's shared bedroom after a long day of treating patients and filling out paperwork. Yeah, you were a doctor so there really can't be any days off but today was very hectic. A bunch of agents came tumbling in at once from a mission, Natasha's mission to be precise. Needless to say, your heart dropped when there was no sign of Natasha but you pushed through your feelings and treated as many patients as you could handle at once. It really didn't help that you were severely understaffed and worried about your, currently missing, girlfriend. 

So, you worked and worked until the brink of exhaustion, or the end of your 30-hour shift, and made your way back home to the Avengers' compound, where your assassin insisted it was "safest for you."

You made your way inside quickly and quietly, not alerting anyone that you had come in, and walked up to your bedroom. 

The soft sound of music playing from the other side set all your senses on fire. 

You slowly twisted the doorknob and opened the deep brown door. 

And what you saw was so heavenly you swear you almost passed out. 

There Natasha stood in white lacy lingerie, looking at herself in the mirror that was placed conveniently beside the bed. Her head snapped in your direction and her arms covered herself in a defensive habit, something she picked up from years of over-sexualisation. She relaxed a bit when she saw it was only you and let out a sigh of almost relief. 

You stood there gawking at her beauty and how angelic she looked. Sure, she looked good in just about any colour she wore, but white was on a whole other level.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't here at the beginning of your birthday, but you can forgive me, right?" She batted her eyelids seductively at you and sat down on your shared bed, spreading her legs to give you a clear view of the thin piece of fabric that covered her parts.

"Depends on how you intend to repay me." You retorted, a sudden wave of confidence washing over you. Her eyes widened in excitement and she jumped up to grab a big, neatly wrapped box and handed it to you. 

"I have another present for you later but for now, have this." She smiled softly and watched you open the black and red box, revealing a big, and relatively thick, black strap-on. Your eyes widened and a faint blush spread across your cheeks. 

"I-I don't get it. Don't we have one already?" You mumbled shyly and she took the black appendage out of the box and handed it to you, swapping it with the box you held. 

"Mhm, but this one's for you." She smiled, a hint of nervousness present in her emerald eyes. Your eyes widened so far this time you were sure they were going to pop out of your head. 

"A-Are you sure?" You managed to stutter out in your complete and utter shock. "You said that-"

"I'm ready." She confirmed and grabbed your hand lovingly. You were quick to jump on this opportunity and undressed promptly, with assistance from Natasha. 

While you discarded the last piece of clothing across the room, Natasha placed the faux cock onto your body and wrapped her lips around the tip, looking up at you. 

"Are you sure about this?" You pulled her hair back into a ponytail and asked. She nodded her head as best as she could with the big black dildo down her throat. 

You'd have to admit, it turned you on massively. 

You rocked your hips to push the faux cock down her throat, earning a quiet moan and a gag from the redhead on the bed in front of you. She released the appendage with a 'pop' and kissed you deeply, pulling you down onto the bed with her. 

Your tongues fight for dominance and she lets you win. You pull her back down to the edge of the bed and spread her legs, running your hand across her increasingly wet slit. 

Without wasting any more time, you dipped two fingers into her, making the beautiful redhead under you gasp and arch her back towards you. 

"F-Fuck..." She moaned, her face contorting in pleasure. You picked up the pace, pumping your fingers in and out of her at the fastest pace you possibly could. 

Natasha felt that familiar coil in her stomach and reached her hand up to stop your movements. 

"I wanna cum with you inside me" She pants out, chest heaving heavily. You obliged quickly, reaching down to align the black appendage with her hole. 

You pushed it in gently, rubbing Natasha's arm lovingly as she hissed with the pain. You comforted her the best you could as you pushed the strap all the way in. 

You kissed her face lovingly as she tried to squirm away from your kisses placed gently all over her face. You whispered words of reassurance.

“You’re doing so good, baby.”

You watched as she basked in the praise she was receiving, her cheeks tinted a faint pink colour. 

She gave you the sign to start moving, and so you did. Starting off slowly and gently so you didn't hurt her, you moved in and out of her, whispering words of encouragement. Neither of you had ever been in these positions before but you had seen the other in the position many times so you kinda knew what to expect. 

The gentle thrusts soon turned faster and rougher with the begging and pleading of the beautiful redhead beneath you.

“M’ gonna cum.” She moaned, her back arching impossibly high off of the bed you had laid her on.

You connected your lips as her legs shook and her eyes rolled back, cursing softly in her native tongue.

White truly was her colour.

#marvel #natasha marvel #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #the avengers #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha smut #natasha romanoff fanart #natasha x you #natasha romonova

[darylsdelts]

Hi😊 I was wondering if you could write the A - Z NSFW head canons for Daryl when you feel like it? I really love how you write him!

Tysm for this anon! This is fun!

Please keep in mind that sometimes I’m in the mood for subby Daryl and sometimes the opposite so my own opinions constantly change so, aside from this… yes Daryl is also daddy.

Aftercare - in the beginning, Daryl definitely doesn’t know what to do with himself after being intimate with you. The first few times, he pulls away after without saying anything and would either head out or just make some space between you. After he realises you actually want him there and understands what he should do then he definitely holds you close to his chest, a kiss on the top of your head, tells you he enjoyed it and he loves you.

Body - favourite body part… Daryl’s a boob man. He don’t give a shit, big or small but he loves em. (Norman is the biggest fucking boob man so so is Daryl, ok?) he also loves your eyes because he finds comfort in them, being able to hold eye contact is a big thing for Daryl. That being said, he basically get separation anxiety if he hasn’t been able to play with your pussy for a while😭 (not really but you’re his first time for everything so he just can’t get enough)

Cum - hear me out, Daryl used to get scared to cum. Like it took a while for him to get used to it. He’d enjoy show good it all felt but as soon as he would get too close he’d ask you to stop, he didn’t know why but he’d get all panicky. Until one day you very gently told him you were gonna make him cum and you guided him through it. It’s not like he hadn’t jerked off before, he didn’t even understand the anxiety himself. But the first time you did make him cum, there was quite a lot and he got real shy but he enjoyed it and since then he’s a fiend for when you just use your hand. He’s not really into cumming on your face but he likes the tummy. Even though he knows he can’t, sometimes he’ll still beg to cum inside you.

Dirty secret - he secretly likes the thought of you forcing him to watch yourself get off on your own fingers, tormenting him and not letting him touch you or himself. You’d have him practically rutting into thin air as he watched your fingers work hard, wishing it was his cock.

Experience - Daryl had no experience before you, he was a virgin. He didn’t outright say that but you caught on and you eventually asked him about it, which to your surprise he didn’t get defensive about, he was more ashamed than anything. But good Lord, he used his fingers liked he’d been in training his whole life, sure he was inexperienced but it didn’t show. The only telltale sign was his premature ejaculation the first time you two messed about and also how he humps his hips against the mattress when he eats you out.

Freaky - He’s not freaky lmfao. He’s pretty vanilla, with a submissive streak. The most dominant he gets is calling you a good girl and making you suck his fingers. Other than that he’s gentle and tends to slip into a sort of submissive role.

Goofy - Daryl’s too focused to be goofy. Nothing to laugh about if his girl ain’t cumming yet. But he’s not boring, obviously, just usually too caught up in pleasure. Unlessssss… you’re overstimulating him, something he loves, then he might get a little giggly accidentally but only because he doesn’t know what to do with himself when you’re attacking his sensitive head.

Hair - Daryl’s hair is sparse on his chest and torso but his happy trail gets a little darker, not black though, I would say probably a medium brown colour, let’s remember he’s a blonde baby at heart. He’s got a little bit of bush going on but he trims it now and then. As for you, he couldn’t care less, he’s still gonna eat his meal 😋! If you do get the chance to shave, he’d most likely be surprised. “What’s this? Ya been shavin’? Hope ya ain’t done it fer me”. He wouldn’t want you to think you have to shave for him to find you attractive, to be honest it kinda throws him off when you’re hairless.

Intimacy - he’s a needy fucker for a cuddle. He don’t look like it but he might as well be the damn cuddle monster when it comes to you. In private of course. In public he’d just squeeze your hand and maybe kiss your forehead if no one’s looking but PDA makes him uncomfortable. That’s why he’s so touchy and clingy at home.

Jerking off - not much time for Daryl to touch himself, also, he’s with you so he might aswell just ask you to do it. However, if for any reason you’re apart, he might get a little pent up, start daydreaming about things you say to him and how you say it “such a good boy, Daryl” he’d practically fuck his hand, being so desperate for release that he’d cum way too fast. He also likes to cup his balls when he cums.

kinks - secret mommy kink secret mommy kink secret mommy kink. He didn’t know he had one but he did know that he tends to gravitate to nurturing women who make him feel comforted but he’s never found any sexual desire there until he met you. So attentive and so nurturing, you always knew what he needed… it just slipped out one time, you were straddling him whilst he was still clothed. You’d teased him all day and he was a mess, rutting against your core through his jeans, begging to be touched. He couldn’t help it when he had an accidental orgasm in his pants and moaned out “m-mommyyyy”. And boy did you hold him to that.

Location - Home. Daryl don’t take no risks! Except for when he lets you tease him under the table at meetings.

Motivation (turn ons) - you, especially if you’ve been fighting, he loves watching his girl fight. Your kindness turns him on as-well, unless someone takes advantage of it, then he’s out to kill.

No (turn offs) - roughness, he’s not into being rough with you or you being tough with him. His life’s been rough enough.

Oral - he gets whimpery when you suck his dick, he bucks his hips and whines and he fucking loves it. Almost as much as he loves to eat you out. He’d lay on his stomach, eating you out whilst simultaneously rubbing his cock against the mattress, leaving a puddle of precum.

Pace - usually a slow to medium pace, he likes making love to you but if he’s stressed or had a rough day, he’s gonna go fast. That’s the only time he’ll be overly dominant. Basically just using your body.

Quickie - as much as he thinks about it, Daryl’s not pushing you up against a tree mid-hunt. It’s dangerous and not exactly comfortable for you. The closest thing he’s gotten to a quickie is one time you teased his cock through his jeans during a group dinner and he was so close to cumming he basically dragged you to the bathroom and had you suck him off.

Stamina - less than he had in the beginning 😭 he’s 55 now, he’s still got impeccable stamina and could go for round two but not as quickly as he could at 40.

Toys - one day, you came home from a scavenge with a vibe, he was a little annoyed, saying you could’ve got more important things but you assured him that this was all you found. He assumed it was for your use only but… you held it to his frenulum and suddenly he was glad it was all you could find. You told him that if you found a dildo you could use that on him too but he couldn’t tell if you were joking or not, maybe he’d let you use your fingers before any of that… maybe.

Unfair - after all of this submissive Daryl talk, he does like seeing you flustered, he likes to tease just as much as you do, he makes it like a little competition.

Volume - he’s quiet, small grunts and whimpers unless the vibe is involved then you gotta stuff your panties in his mouth.

Wild card (random hc) - likes when you worship his body, makes him less insecure (which he very much is but shouldn’t be)

X-ray - 7 inches and thick! Tip is a pinky red and he’s uncut. His balls are heavy asf but pretty tight. 4 inches when soft and when he’s hard it stands to attention with no curve.

Yearning - tried to play it cool… still tries to play it cool but is obsessed with you.

Zzz - as soon as you’re snuggled up, he’s gone. Fucking finally, he never slept well before you.

God this took fucking ages.

#daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl smut #norman reedus #twd smut

[veintrry]

the tension that rises between us.

wanderer x gn!reader, nsfw, grinding, finger sucking, consensual. reader's race, skin colour, sexuality, gender, body size is not specified/ anyone can read! not proofread, this is bad. 1.4k

let's just put it like this; one morning you wanted to be particularly annoying and this was the consequence of that. or reward. that's for you to decide.

AN: hi i hate this with a passion and by far this is one of my worst works ever lord what was I thinking

ac: lanamaru (tmblr)

You wouldn't have usually pulled this sort of thing, in fact, you never had. So why now? Your reasoning was pretty simple. Your dumb little mind seemed to have still not been fully conscious yet, and relying solely on your dumb mischievous ideas you didn't even give them a second thought. So, you could only guess the idea you got as you saw Scaramouche sleeping peacefully. On any other day you would've done anything to avoid waking him up, but today? Today was a day to try new things!

You inch a finger closer and closer to his cheek, and poke him. To your surprise he doesn't awake, and you can only assume its because he's gotten so used to being around you that he's softened up his defenses. Hastily crawling on top of him you get a good view of his face. GOOD view. You notice how nicely curled his lashes are, how his lips appear to be slightly darker on the inner part, how there's barely evident red stains near his eyes likely from his eyeliner. Only you get to see this, only you.

You rest on top of him, sat comfortably for yourself, and you move a hand to touch his face, but opt to only hover over his cheek as to not wake him. You began to wonder was this the sight that had lasted years? Unwoken, undisturbed. He looked so sweet like this, when he wasn't covering his feelings up. In a way, his vulnerability felt like an affection in its own way, after all it wasn't something easily granted.

"Kuni..." You whisper. You had practically forgotten you were meant to be annoying him, and at the reminder you completely changed what you're doing. You could say a slight curiosity came to you, one you couldn't erase... If he was to awake to see you like this, sat atop of him, he'd likely push you off, right? Or maybe he'd grumble about how you had disturbed his sleep. But, what if the circumstances were different.

Biting your bottom lip out of hesitation and slight nervousness, you slowly drag your hips up and down his groin. It felt lewd to do this, it wasn't really on your bucket list, but maybe it should've been. There is something that had you smiling to yourself as you peered down on him, you almost wanted to giggle at the sight of his sweet figure and soon you felt this rotting sweet sensation turn more needy. Even so, you didn't speed up. You just eyed him like a prey, mouth watering awaiting him. You rested a hand next to his head to have an even better view of the way his hair framed his face, to see how his jaw was slack and how his lips parted. You wanted to kiss them. You wouldn't though, not yet. A part of you, no, most of you wanted him to wake up. You didn't want to do it yourself, you wanted him to find you like this. You find yourself rewinding the idea of him seeing you like this, his reaction, what he'd say, what he'd think, and you attempt to keep those little whines of yours to yourself, that is, until you begin to speed up.

You let out short heavy breaths with each glide over him, feeling your core burn up you think its engulfing your entire body. Honestly, you must be shameless to do such a thing, if not that then you must simply enjoy the idea of being humiliated.

"You're so needy. Even I'm not this impatient."

You halt. Straightening your back, you look wide-eyed at him. It's not like you're actually shocked, but this is how people should react to being busted, right? "Ah, well... you looked pretty?" A brow lifted at your reasoning, giving you a humorous smirk. "I looked pretty. So you started grinding on me? I've never heard of people doing that."

Frankly, you didn't want to be interrogated for what you were doing, you didn't know why you did it either, impulses exist! Attempting to get off of him you move your hand away from his face and lift your leg over him before he's pulling you down again, hand gripping your wrist, pulling your face closer to his.

"Did I say you could stop now? You should know better than that. Finish what you started."

You feel a cold hand slither to your hips, holding you in place. Even though he was the one beneath you he still had a way to compel you with his eyes, it was honestly astonishing the power he held over you. "Don't tell me you've gotten shy, need my help?" His teasing was evident, he was making a mockery of you and yet you still wanted his aid, even you have your limits. "Yes. Maybe I do." You grumbled. "Hah, All you had to do was ask." He wasted no time in doing his task, leading your hips back into their previous rhythm. There was a way he gripped onto you when he felt you push deeper into him, like he was doing his all to keep his nails from digging into you. "To think you would've done something like this. You're absolutely shameless."

You replied with nothing but muffled sounds as you kept your mouth shut, biting your tongue. He didn't like that. No, he was always a fan of your sounds, after all no one else could hear them, not only that, but he was the cause. He was the reason for everything. That being said, he must confess that having woken to you like that, well, it was rewarding to him. To think you found him so attractive, that you liked him so much you just couldn't help yourself. But if you wished to make yourself feel welcome then he wouldn't protest.

The tip of Scaramouche's nose touched yours, his eyes lidded as he gazed at you with a calculating look as though he had you figured out. "Cat got your tongue?" He cocked his head to the side. There was no way you could muster a reply, no way you'd even want to. Covering your mouth to do your best as he pushed you harder onto him, at this point you didn't need him to guide you, you didn't even need to think of what to do, your hips rolled against him pleading for more friction, any friction against the bulge you can feel beneath you. You knew he liked it, no, he absolutely loved it when he had you for himself.

"That's no good." Releasing your wrist he reaches for the hand jailing the sweet sounds erupting from your throat, pulling it away with ease as you put up no fight. Your body was lazy, your eyes staring at his chest, only now realising the tight black clothing he had on. You were keeping yourself up with only one hand and even so you felt your strength slipping as you wanted nothing more than to just feel him. "Open your mouth for me." You spare a glance up at him, with want, not only for him, but to see him needing you too.

You separate your lips, mouth open awaiting his next move, and as you eye his facial expression, his satisfaction with your behaviour, how lustrous orbs eye you with such lust swirling within them. He picks up your jaw to get one proper look at you with drool spilling down your lips onto your chin. He swipes it off with his thumb, licking it. "All for me." He eyes his wet thumb, then you. Inserting two digits into your mouth, he speaks demandingly, "Suck." And despite his harsh tone, you feel your heart pump more and more. To you, this was no more than a sign of his want. So you do as he asks. Lacing your tongue around his fingers, taking them in, and bobbing your head as you even plant kisses on them.

You could hear his breathing, how unlike yours despite it being quieter, clearly an attempt from him to hide it. His breaths were heavy, but they asked for more. Scaramouche observed as you practically sucked his fingers off as though it was his very own cock. And he found his mind trailing far far away with new ways to toy with you after you're done entertaining him. Maybe you should do this more often.

#kunikuzushi #wanderer #wanderer genshin #wanderer x reader #genshin scaramouche #genshin smut #genshin scara #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #scara x reader #scaramouche smut #wanderer smut #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi smut #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin headcanons #wanderer headcanons #scaramouche headcanons

[elsfleur]

⋆·˚ ༘ * ALWAYS AN ANGEL, NEVER A GOD

best friend!ellie x reader

summary: ellie williams has had enough of heartbreak for her entire lifetime, vowing to never fall in love again, her best defense mechanism: but you were so soft, so inevitable.

content warning: story inspired by this loser!ellie headcanons post by the lovely syd (@elliesflower) includes light mentions of smut, pining and traumatic past relationships

word count: 1,006

🪷 ʾ ⠀

a bundle of sharp ends and rough edges, inconveniently timed jokes and tempered anger management, your ellie was a sight to behold in her armour, though you preferred the skin beneath it: bruised and relentless, tarnished by survival, tender like a kiss. if she had been slightly more courageous she might’ve noticed your gaze– but she was not. claiming herself cowardly damaged goods ellie williams would smudge sketches of you from tears who dared misbehave into free fall mid drawing.

she had your features memorised like a map, the valley of your cheeks, crease of your eyes, mountains of the lips, pictured herself constantly visiting your limbs for sightseeing and painted you in sunset colours like a dream as if she was not living her own personal nightmare.

you were dancing with dina now, her hands by your waist as you grinded down her crotch painstakingly in slow motion to the rhythm of jesse’s playlist, ellie sucked in a breath and gulped down her beer as she steadied herself. it had barely been forty eight hours since you found yourself crying by ellie’s lap in the middle of the night over a long due breakup, her murder jokes becoming funnier the more tired you became, no one would’ve guessed by your radiance and movement just how heartbroken you had been, but your best friend knew, and she was glad for your peace of mind even if it was an intoxicated response.

you smiled at her once your body finally swayed back up, shaking away the brunette’s grip and offering up your arms to a flushed ellie who anticipated your request and shook her head.

“nope, i don’t dance”

“please” you hummed and she shuddered, erupting in pathetic shivers through every inch of skin. you had grabbed her drink and placed it down before taking her hands into yours and pulling them towards your waist, bright red replacing pale peach all across her cheeks with the thoughts that raced through ellie’s mind unwelcomed, would you plead like that with her tongue by your cunt too?

“you’re my favourite person in the world” you whispered by her ear closing the gap between your bodies as the song switched to something slower, ellie smiled in response fiddling with the belt loop of your jeans “should’ve dated you instead of that asshole” and with that joke, she choked.

🪷 ʾ ⠀

you had been crying again, legs carrying you towards ellie’s doorstep for the third time this week, she had fallen asleep on the couch somewhat anticipating your arrival ready to answer the door after glancing at the bright clock alarming 2:54 a.m. she swung it open with a yawn and stared you down: tousled hair of sleepless nights tossing, swollen lips and glossy eyes in a white nightgown too naked for jackson weather you looked like a fallen angel left abandoned at her doorstep. the softness of your voice snapped her of thoughts, the smallest hi els coming out through lumped throat, you fell towards her arms and latched on.

she held you as one held a star; not quite sure what to do with the sharp ends, not quite able to stare at its light, cutting herself at your vertices and squinting eyes at your sight to refrain from further falling.

“baby” ellie cooed lightly shoving you towards the couch, a lead which you complied plopping down the soft fabric alongside her “she never deserved you anyways, remember that one time she said your favourite ice cream was overrated? frankly a bitch” you giggled in reponse.

“no no i’m serious, or that other time we found series dvds and binge watched friends and she said ross didn’t cheat on rachel? or when you were cold and pouty and she just told you she couldn’t control the weather? seriously it is astounding how you saw any redeeming qualities in her, what was she like super good in bed?”

your laughter ceased, suddenly embarrassed “she never even” you started but shook your head, though ellie would not let you drop it now, widened eyes and amused smile growing.

“what?”

“ellie, just drop it”

“she never even what? made you cum?”

your silence answered her question louder than a nod could have and she choked back laughter whilst you dug your blushed face into the nearest throw pillow, endless musings on how you must be awfully frustrated and jesus angel why didn’t you tell me i would’ve had you break up with her if i knew, could’ve given her lessons- ow! don’t hit me.

“it’s not like you’re a fucking sex expert, williams” you mocked instinctively, rolling your eyes at your amused best friend.

“sure, i could still for certain make you cum though”

“stop fucking around”

“i’m not, i’m being serious!” the laughing stopped as she licked her lips “i would show you but i’m not a rebound girl”

this was the point ellie should’ve guessed it was a dream, your bright eyes looking back at her glinting at desire in a way that bordered filthy, a hunger unbeknownst to most people in their entire lifetime while the plead show me escaped past your reddened lips. she didn’t even hesitate before pressing against you, breath hovering your face as she propped herself up on top of your layed body radiating warmth like forest fires attaching themselves to every cell of her skin, the second your lips found eachother fireworks exploded by her insides.

you whimpered into her mouth, a begging, and she complied eagerly lowering herself trailing wet kisses down your neck till it stained them purples and reds, she wished to paint you whole with her tongue, hands reaching between your thighs and squeezing, your loud reaction stealing a curseful moan from herself.

and then the fucking doorbell rang. and you dissolved. and she rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock and there it was 2:52 a.m. she opened the door and her angel appeared again, though now aware none of what was wished upon would come true at her appearance.

🪷 ʾ ⠀

#ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams #the last of us #ellie williams fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #ellie x fem reader #lesbian #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fluff #loser!ellie #elsfleur

[voidaspects]

A rambling defense of Makuta Spiriah('s design)!

Here’s a very long winded post about a bionicle side character that I suddenly have a lot to say about

I had no strong opinions of this like an hour ago and I suddenly have a massive rant to go on!

Okay, so, Makuta Spiriah, the 2008 bionicle combo model, is regarded as one of the ugliest combo models made for the series, from what I can see. It’s hard to deny that his model is pretty ugly and unremarkable, when you first see it. The colours clash, the construction is weird, and there’s a weird extra not-matoran guy included randomly? I won’t lie, I didn’t have a very good opinion of him either.

However

As of now, this past hour, I have built this figure, and felt compelled to make a defense of his design, because we’ve been far too harsh.

So, makuta spiriah is a pretty obscure character in the wider bionicle storyline, and would probably have just been a footnote in the story, were it not for the “Federation of Fear” story serial, in which he was a prominent member of the team. I probably wouldn’t have had an interest in building him, were it not for me wanting to collect every member. With all of the component sets for spiriah collected, my team is now completed (pic at the end). And I was immediately struck by how much better he looked in person? Like, don’t get me wrong, he’s still weird and janky, and his colour scheme is somewhat hard to adjust to, and all of the things you’d expect on initial glance (botar this is not) but I fully expected him to be ugly as hell, and instead he’s a pretty competent and cohesive model?

I think there’s a few reasons for this, but the biggest one in my opinion is actually the reason I felt the need to make this post, because it’s one of the main things I see people talking about with this model:

I am completely, intensely certain that the other model on his back is intended to be part of his construction, and it seems to just be accepted as a given that it isn’t for some reason?

So, the reason I feel so intensely about this is that pretty much every time this model is mentioned, without fail, there’s sort of a fun fact about how “Spiriah is canon, but the matoran-esque thing on him is non-canon”

This doesn’t seem to have a direct source, so much as it’s a conclusion drawn due to how this second model is perceived. Specifically, the conclusion is drawn from: “there appears to be a weird, slapped together matoran character on his back, to showcase the matoran fusion function from 2008” + “No such character exists in the story” = “this part of the model isn’t canon”

And see, this logic treats the interpretation that this is a separate character as a given. Like… it doesn’t seem to be questioned. And with this mindset, yeah, when you put the models beside each other as individual things, they both look awful:

You’re left with what seemingly appears to be a weirdly shaped antroz and some extra dude made from scraps. But in all honesty, I think this is just accepted as a fact due to spiriah already being accepted as an ugly model. I instead want to propose this as my first piece of evidence that this is not how this is intended to be seen. But my evidence doesn’t stop there.

For instance, another thing worth mentioning is the fact that there is not a single official depiction of the spiriah model that shows the two seperated, from what I can see. They are never once shown on their own in any capacity.

The one single exception to this is this part of the instructions, which tell you to construct the entirety of this second model as it’s own thing, before inserting it onto spiriah. However, this leads us to an additional point, being that this step is in the middle of spiriah’s construction, before you’ve even attached his arms. If this was intended to be a seperate model, why would it be attached during his body construction?

My final piece of evidence I want to propose, relates to the notion of this second model being “an extra little thing you make from the scraps.” I think this idea is popular because of just how barebones it looks on it’s own. Like a weird afterthought. People rationalize this idea with the explanation that this was just to show the matoran fusion function that was being heavily advertised in 2008. They just wanted to insert the-matoran-on-his-back function and threw this extra thing together, right?

Except, having built this figure now… I don’t think you guys realize just how many extra pieces are left. Like, no, this wasn’t a bottom of the barrel little extra thing. They had three mask option and kept the head bare. There was so much to work with.

(Also, fun fact, the matoran-thing has asymmetrical weapon pieces, but both of the chosen weapons have a second version available that wasn’t used, meaning it was a conscious choice for some reason. I don’t have a point to make with that, I just think it’s kinda weird and worth mentioning lmao)

Anyway, my point is, I strongly believe there is NOT some weird non canon extra guy with spiriah. Spiriah is, instead, a model that integrated a full matoran build into it’s construction as an actual design element. It uses the motif of the matoran fusion function, but the matoran instead fills out his figure, bulking him up to look more cohesive and complex.

Now, whether this is intended to be just an abstract way to construct his design, or he’s actually intended to look like he has a person melded into him or something, overtly, I’ll leave up to you. The makuta are weird and mutated enough that it honestly could very well be the latter, though it’d be an awfully weird thing to go unmentioned. But who knows, maybe some poor matoran got shadow-absorbed nidihki and krehka style. Or something. Your call!

Anyway, I’ll finish off this weirdly specific rant by just saying that I think this really changed the way I look at some of these models. I think the vast amount of criticism I’ve seen of Spiriah is reflective of the fact that on a glance, he looks super unappealing, to the point that no one really wants to build him, and therefore people maintain these opinions without ever seeing him in person? Not to sound like I know better or anything, I would never have built him if it weren’t for my love of the Federation of Fear story, and up until this moment I firmly believed Spiriah was one of the worst models of the line. Jarringly coloured, weirdly proportioned. I’d have no reason to believe otherwise, had I not done this.

I just think that’s neat, and I also think it’s neat that I suddenly had so much to say immediately after building him. I still don’t think he’s anything special, granted. He could absolutely be improved. But as he is? He’s still pretty dang cool! Cooler than I think any of us have given him credit for! And I think that makes me appreciate him more!

So shout out to the biggest failure in bionicle history. At least someone thinks something about you is a success!

(Lariska model created by Gerou100 (unofficial fanon contest winning model) (it’s canon in my heart))

#bionicle #lego bionicle #toy collection #bionicle collection #bionicle lore #bionicle 2008 #makuta #federation of fear #bionicle federation of fear #bionicle makuta #spiriah #makuta spiriah #brutaka #bionicle brutaka

[ninyard]

“God, how blind can you be?”

That would be such a great line for a kevjean confession if Jean ever told Kevin abt his crush on him in the nest.

Ty, have a great day :))

You’re a genius!!! Here’s Kevin being Oblivious and Confused while Jean admits how he’s always felt about him :))

-

“Can I ask you something?” Kevin lay in Jeremy’s bed, on top of the covers, with arms outstretched and his feet dangling off the edge. “But you can’t get defensive, because I’m not the one who’s wondering.”

“Now I am obligated to be defensive.” Jean was sitting on his back up against the wall on his own bed, scribbling notes in a notebook for an assignment due far too soon. Kevin had texted him earlier that morning saying that he was in town, and with Jeremy at home because it was a weekday, alongside the schoolwork Jean had started to fall behind on, the best way for the two to catch up was to invite Kevin over. “Ask, then.”

“Are you…” Kevin sat himself up to look at Jean before he continued. “Are you and Renee a thing?”

“No.” Jean laughed. “She has not told you this?”

“We aren’t that close,” Kevin shook his head. “She likes you, you know.”

Jean could feel himself blushing, but hoped his newfound tan covered the colour that spread across his cheeks. “I know. We’ve spoken about it.”

“You’ve spoken about it,” Kevin repeated as if saying it again would make it make more sense. “I thought you liked her.”

“It would never work.” Jean said. “She saved my life. It would always be hanging over the two of us.”

“Okay, sure, but…” Kevin moved to get a better view of Jean while they spoke. “You do like her?”

Jean read his face with a gentle smile, shutting his notebook and putting it to one side. “What is this about?”

His friend squinted his eyes, perhaps hoping he could get his point across telepathically without having to say it out loud. He glanced towards the door and laughed. “So you like Renee.”

“I will always love her for what she has done,” Jean said with a shrug. “But no, not so much anymore. We’re good friends.”

“Point being,” Kevin nodded with an over exaggerated, enthusiastic bob of his head. “You’re into women.”

Jean felt his face fall, as if Kevin had forgotten his name, or forgotten which position he played in. He scoffed, half a laugh and half disbelief, “You can’t be serious.”

“Am I right?”

“Kevin, you can’t be serious.” Jean echoed, and Kevin furrowed his eyebrows as if he had any right to be confused. “Where has this come from?”

“A friend of a friend wants to know,” Kevin brushed that off, and continued his staring stand-off with Jean. “Why would I not be serious?”

Jean gestured around himself, not even able to come up with a simple answer to his question. Jean was never bothered about the labelling of his sexuality, but had been bothered by its display. At least, publically, he thought, which just translated to not in front of Riko. Not Kevin, never Kevin. Kevin had known, or so he thought, about his infatuations and fleeting glances at the men he thought were handsome. Kevin had known about himself, and how it made Jean feel every time he heard the sweet sound of his native tongue falling from his lips.

“You…” Nothing felt good enough, and Jean laughed at the absurdity of it all. “You know it’s not just women, Kevin.”

Kevin blinked. “Do I?”

“Those foxes have rotted your brain,” Jean switched to French, ever so slightly startling Kevin out of his confused daze. “I knew you had moved on from the nest, but I did not think you would have forgotten so much about me.”

“Well, in my defense,” Kevin responded in his learned language, and Jean melted a little bit more inside. “Jeremy asked you if you were into men, and you never answered him, so he assumed he’d read you wrong.”

“Jeremy?” Jean spat in a failed whisper. “What does Jeremy have to do with this?”

Kevin became even more confused. “Who else would it have anything to do with?”

“Don’t play stupid,” Jean shifted his position to sit closer to the edge of the bed. “You know it has everything to do with you.”

“Me?” He said in English, as if wary he’d gotten the translation wrong. He continued in French. “Okay, there must be a miscommunication here.” He switched back to English then, as he started to stumble over his French, suddenly self conscious that he was not speaking correctly. “I’m lost, Jean.”

“I have always been open with you,” Jean said. “I have never hidden from you my interests in men and women. Why would you pretend not to know that?”

Kevin open and closed his mouth a few times, his hands outstretched, waiting for the answer to fall into them. “I didn’t know that.”

Jean shut his eyes to process what Kevin was saying. Perhaps Jean had simply given his intelligence far too much credit, and he had not been as clear to Kevin as he’d imagined he’d been. He thought that impossible, with their shared glances on a lonely night, with their comfort of each other when Riko wasn’t looking. “Some of them you like,” Jean quoted something he’d said to him before. “You said this about the Trojans. If you were not talking about the striker, then who were you talking about?”

“Like, as in,” Kevin’s smile was more genuine than awkward, apparently finding some amusement out of the confusion. “A fan of. You like someone. They interest you. You’re as much of a Jeremy fan as I am. I didn’t think you were into him.”

“And you were not.” Jean didn’t pose it as a question, more of a statement, an answer for himself.

“He’s not bad to look at, don’t get me wrong,” Kevin laughed at the thought. “But not like that. He’s just a really good friend.”

Jean pinched his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. He heard Kevin’s movement and felt the weight on the bed next to him as he sat down. When Jean opened his eyes, he had to look away, far too intoxicatingly reminded of his buried thoughts about Kevin.

“Jean,” Kevin pulled his attention back to him, and Jean forced himself to look into his eyes. “Why did you say it has everything to do with me?”

“God,” Jean clicked his tongue in pity, either for himself for being so stupid to think Kevin knew, or at Kevin for not noticing. “How blind can you be?”

“You had a crush on me.” Kevin’s voice was neutral. “You never told me.”

Jean sighed with a hesitant smile. “I thought I did.”

It felt like an age before Kevin decided to respond. It felt like the season had passed, like a year in Raven time had gone by, before he spoke. It was hard to ignore the blush that crept across his lightly freckled cheeks, as Jean found himself fixated on the chess piece on his cheekbone. They were too close, now, and he could feel himself burning up with the shame of it all.

“I didn’t know.” It was simple, not enough, but perhaps the best he could do. “For how long?”

Jean couldn’t help the twitch that spread up his face, “You are the one interested in history, not me.”

“Humor me.”

“For as long as I have known you, Kevin Day.” His eyebrows raised in surprise at that answer. Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that.

“Oh,” was all he could say. He couldn’t find a smile that would sit comfortably on his face, and Jean wasn’t sure whether his fidgeting was discomfort or not.

“I never expected anything to come from it,” he attempted to clear the air. “I assumed you knew and simply decided not to address it. Looking back, it’s best you didn’t know, then, I think.”

“You don’t have to say that.” Kevin’s voice was low as he racked his brain for evidence to support Jean’s truth. “I wish you’d told me.”

“To feed your ego?” Jean laughed. “To make a straight man feel better to know he is desirable from either side?”

“You don’t have to say that, either.” Kevin spoke in French like it were a secret. “I’m with Thea now, sure, but,” he struggled. “I’m not exactly, you know… strict about it. It’s just easier this way.”

The only thing Jean could do was look at him.

The only thing he could bear to think was all the times he’d whispered in Jean’s ear, and Jean had to hide the shiver that travelled down his spine at the heat of the words thats he spoke. He thought of Kevin’s hands around his waist as he forced him into position on the court, a quick touch, an order to be better, a demand to be where he needed him to be. Then there was the blood, and the spit running down his chin, black hair stuck to sweat and tears as he cried please, Jean. Take him away from here. He thought of exposed bone and blood trickling through the cracks on the locker room floor, or a cracked skull against a door frame when he found Riko afterwards. There was the note, a single sloppy word, poorly written by a hand that had never wrote before. Sorry. The paper had been marked with Kevin’s blood, and it would be the last thing he would hear from him for months.

Kevin had stopped Jean’s hands before he noticed them travelling up his own throat.

“For the record, there is only one reason why nothing would have come from it,” Kevin meant it as a comfort, and Jean felt his heart break a little bit more. “But it’s the same reason it never would have worked.”

Jean was not naive, either. He was smart enough to know there was no universe in which any sort of relationship with Kevin would have been realistic. He was a beautiful face during a time that was rarely beautiful, a face that patched him up when he was black and blue, a face that smiled and joked at him when all he wanted was an end to the suffering. “I know.” Jean said, acutely aware that Kevin had not let go of his hands, even as they rested between them on the bed. “You will always be my first love, but I am smart enough to know that is meaningless now.”

“Maybe so,” Kevin looked at their hands. “But it could have been fun.”

“Fun, he says,” Jean scoffed, and Kevin laughed one of his genuine laughs, the tension in the room dissipating with the sound of his joy. Jean pulled his hand away from Kevin’s, to cover his face. He could feel himself blushing at the thoughts of what fun could have meant. “And what would you have done, asked the king to leave your room for an hour?”

It was Kevin’s turn to blush then, as he laughed again. Jean tried to push down the resurfacing feelings as he wondered what he could’ve possibly been imagining. “We would have found a way.” His laugh died off with a wistful sigh. “Somehow.”

“Somehow.” Jean agreed.

Kevin let the silence hang for just a moment before he gently reached up to touch Jean’s tattoo, then letting his hands fall back to his sides. “Maybe in another life.”

Jean swallowed and let out a soft exhale. “Maybe.”

They spent far too long just looking at each other, imagining what could have happened in that other life, wondering how it could’ve been different. Kevin eventually got back to the point of his conversation, and after laughing about how Jean has a thing for strikers, and how Kevin had never actually had a crush on Jeremy, Jean ignored his study for the flowing conversations he’d missed so badly. It was true that Kevin had been his first love, and he would be lying to himself if he said it would ever go away, but they had been each other’s only friend for so long. It was a long overdue catch-up without the threat of violence for laughing too loud, or sitting too close together. He didn’t pretend not to notice the way Kevin’s eyes flicked to his lips every now and again, or how quickly he would look away when he caught himself doing so. It was difficult to ignore how his cheeks turned rosy then, and even more so difficult to ignore how much he’d forgotten how beautiful Kevin really was.

For just a single, simple moment Jean wondered what it would be like to kiss him. That was a thought that had not crossed his mind for a very, very long time. Jean pictured a timeline in which they were both able to give it a shot without immeasurable guilt, or shame, or fear over the court of public opinion. He found himself being reminded over and over again that Kevin had finally said it himself that his sexuality was a fluid thing. There were more reasons that not to write it off as a wrong place, wrong time kind of issue, but even with the stomach churning, butterfly inducing thought of Jeremy Knox and his callused hands, it was certain that Kevin would always be his greatest what-if.

It was a pity that they would both continue on with their lives not knowing what could have been, but perhaps for the best; they were both at points in their lives where, for the first time ever, they were happy. They were not constantly glancing over their shoulders waiting for a threat.

Maybe in another life, Jean told himself. Maybe in some other world.

#pacing issues? idk her! #here’s some blind bisexual Kevin day #and too-open Jean Moreau wrongfully assuming Kevin can pick up on clues at ALL. #kevjean kevjean kevjean #my rotten little brain #kevjean #kevin day #Jean Moreau #tsc #aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #the sunshine court #love my little bisexuals

[ggyuha]

done talking / leon

[ summary ] : your boyfriend is always tired & stressed so frankly, a vacation isn’t too much to ask for, right? what happens though when he refuses? ( wc is 2.1k )

[ c/w ] : angry sex mostly, degradation, pet names, unprotected sex, age gap (reader is adult!), fingering, i suck with tags but that’s mostly it i think

[ note ] : hi, it’s my first official nsfw work so i know i still have ways to go before i can actually call this good but i’m sort of testing the waters, see how i would like it if i shared adult content as well hehe anyways, i hope you like it and notes & ideas are always appreciated <3

“you are so fucking unfair.”

tension hung tightly around the air, choking your love for leon out of you. but one gaze from him, holds you down—keeps you grasping at him like a lifeline.

where did that soft gaze go, though?

his eyes flickered with annoyance, burning sharp imprints on your skin. he heaved a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “we’ve talked about this,” he said in an exasperated tone.

you scoffed in response. “we?” your words were heavy, emphasising the emotion with each syllable. “leon, i never said yes to anything!” you stomped, turning your back on him as you paced angrily around the kitchen. you held your head low with one hand, the other on your hip.

he watched you with a tired look on his face, his forehead creased and eyebrows furrowed. a frown tugged at his thin lips. “okay, even if we didn’t—what are you even gonna do about it?”

you looked back at him in disbelief, eyes wide with anger, lips pursed in annoyance.

it wasn’t as if you were asking for the impossible. is a trip together too much? after all, you’ve been seeing each other for 8 months but not once, never has he taken you out for a vacation. and you don’t see the problem with taking one either, with him always looking so drained, so out of it, so stressed.

but of course, who’s leon without his stubbornness? government this, people that—it’s like he’s nothing but the embodiment of saviour complex.

“leon, i can’t do anything about it but you do. we know damn well you always find a way…” you trailed off, trying to hold back hurtful words. they slip past your lips regardless, your anger seeping out no matter how much you hold back.

“… when you want it, at least.”

he looked up at you with wide eyes, a defensive look on his face as if you just accused him of a crime. “don’t you dare play that card,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

he slammed his hands on the table, pushing the chair back so hard when he stood up, it screeched against the floor before falling backwards.

he walked towards you with angry steps, gripping the edge of your shoulders with a firm hold. “i want to be with you, i do but lives depend on this, you know that. a few moments of leisure and i’m putting others at risk. don’t you get what i’m trying to say?” he was staring at you intensely, his whole face clenched tightly as if that would hold him back from showing his true colours, his trembling anger—you knew better than that.

because it was his hands that conveyed his frustration. you didn’t like the way they seized your flesh so you wriggled, trying to break free but his grasp on you was firm.

“let go of me.” his eyes blinked, a sudden realisation washing over him. his grip loosened but he didn’t let you go just yet.

he called your name sternly, “i can’t take a vacation right now. this mission is very important to lots of people, to me. but after this…” he sighed deeply, closing his eyes briefly before gazing down at his feet.

“what? you can’t finish your words, can you?” you taunted with a pained expression, “because you know it won’t end. after this, after that! no, leon, lives will always be at risk. just admit that you have a saviour complex!”

you pushed his chest with force. he stumbled back, freeing you from his grasp.

you grabbed your bag on the kitchen chair and acted as if to walk away. “oh no, you don’t,” he grunted lowly, grabbing you by the elbow before he pinned your back against the nearest wall. you felt shock shoot through your nerves, from the spine to the back of your head.

he snatched your bag from your hand, throwing it angrily somewhere—but you heard a glass shatter—then he pinned your wrists beside you.

“don’t walk away. we’re not done yet.” he inched his face closer, baring his teeth while his eyes devoured you whole with the intense fury he felt.

“how come only you get to decide things? i’m here too, you know,” you murmured weakly, the argument taking its toll on you. “but you’re not…”

the silence hung heavy in the air, the tension crackling as a grumble resonated deep in his throat. “please don’t question my love for you,” he murmured, pinning you harder against the wall as he rested his forehead on yours.

you looked up at him and furrowed your brows. “it’s hard not to,” you whispered sternly.

before you know it, his mouth is already forcibly crashing against yours, his teeth nibbling on your lip to make you gasp and when you did, he pushed his tongue in you, exploring your mouth without restraint.

“leon—“ you tried to gasp in between the heated kiss. his hands slipped under your shirt, kneading the flesh of your hips firmly as he kissed you with so much fervour, strings of saliva dripped down both of your chin, connecting your mouths.

the discomfort creeped in when he inched his hands upwards, palming your breasts through your bra. your nerves got prickly. “leon, stop,” you grunted, clawing at his arm. his touch didn’t bring you comfort as it did before, instead the throb clashed with pleasure—the pain dominating, mostly.

leon didn’t listen, bringing his hands to undo your shirt impatiently, sucking on the skin of your neck meanwhile. he used his teeth to nibble on the sensitive spot, his tongue swirling around his love bites.

you exhaled shakily, your will crumbling down as the pleasure started to sink in and register, albeit with the lingering painful sensation.

“don’t you ever say to my face that i don’t love you,” he stated with an ardent tone, his voice low and deep.

he lifted you into his arms, pressing apologetic kisses on your cheek as he carried you into his room, gently placing you on the mattress.

he pried your legs open with one hand to make room for him. he bent forward and kissed you on the lips, his hands sliding your shirt off your shoulders. he didn’t waste time and unclasped your bra as well, palming your breasts while he pinched your perky nipples between his fingers.

“this isn’t really the time… we’re not done yet talking,” you groaned and tipped your head back against the pillow. you held onto his shoulder, your nails digging into the flesh of his shoulder as your legs quivered.

leon looked down at you sharply. “we’re done with words, princess,” he spat firmly, “we’re too mad to talk, aren’t we? it’s time to get to actions.”

“you think it’s unfair, huh? i do too, believe me if it were up to me, i’d choose you again and again over my job because truthfully, you weigh more to me than anything.”

his words blurred as he unbuttoned your jeans and palmed your pussy through your panties. feeling the damped spot, he slipped a thick finger past its waistband, the calloused tip of his finger ghosting over your clit to tease you. you whimpered at the sensation that crawled into your body. you gripped his biceps more tightly, looking at him through half-lidded eyes.

“i know i don’t deserve you but i try so fucking hard to be that one guy that’s perfect for you but god fucking damn it.”

he slowly pushed two digits past your wet folds, making you gasp. his fingers were long and thick and every time he thrusted them in and out, he’d curl the tip to press against your soft spots

he kept murmuring to you and every word that he uttered was heavy and thick with emotion but it wasn’t your fault that with every emphasis he made, he pumped his digits into you more roughly. he must’ve said something else, something about his job.

but you were feeling lightheaded.

the next thing you knew, he had already pulled your pants down along with your underwear and he’s unbuckling his pants before climbing on top of you again.

“i’ll fuck some senses into you, you whore. so fuckin’ desperate for some lovin’, y’say?”

“leon, slow—“ he pressed the tip of his cock against your slit, the sheer pressure and size sending your shiver. he’s too big, you thought, if he keeps being rough…

“fuuuuck…” you exhaled loudly with the sudden penetration, your walls painfully stretching to accommodate his size. you clawed at his back and closed your eyes, trying to divert your attention somewhere else other than the throb and sting you’re feeling down there.

he began thrusting, his hands hooked under your knees to lift them higher until they were levelled with your ears. he keeps pumping his cock in and out deeply and slowly, drawing the pleasure out of you before he’s back right in, balls deep, his hips rolling with delicious precision.

he began to pick up pace when he managed to bottoms out in you, his thick length filling you in so well that you could feel his tip slapping against your cervix.

you moaned out his name as he fucked you dumb. you couldn’t think of anything else at this point, only the sheer, raw passion he’s giving you as he kept thrusting.

“leon, leon…” you whimpered desperately. his hand left your leg to rub circles on your throbbing nub, stimulating you further. your nerves suddenly fired up, you felt tingly all over, your toes curling.

“i love you, angel,” he whispered into your ear. he easily flipped you on your stomach, lifting your ass up while your breasts and face pathetically lay flat on the mattress as he fucked you roughly from behind, groping your ass as he did so.

“fuck, so fucking tight. you like this spot, don’t you?”

your eyes rolled back and your mouth hung open, spittle dripping down your chin. “answer me, princess—or are you too dumb to understand?”

you must have let out a groan or a sound at the very least but you heard him smirk and he spanked your ass, the hot sting of his big palm making you flinch and shudder.

he kept pulling almost fully out before slamming his dick back in and he did it over and over again at a slightly cruel pace until you’re pressing your mouth against the mattress, strings of moans leaving your lips, a tight knot threatening to release in you.

“not yet,” he said, feeling the delicious contraction of your tight cunt. “you won’t until i do too, you understand?”

you nodded helplessly, curling your toes and gripping the bedsheets with your hands as you kept lifting your hips up while he fucked you roughly from behind, his tip painfully hitting your deepest spot making it almost impossible not to cum around his cock.

“fuck, so good—you want my cum, don’t you, pretty girl?” he cooed as he bent forward, his clothed chest pressed against your back, his lips ghosting over your ear to whisper filth.

“answer me.” his tone was firm and you knew his patience was running thin, he wanted to cum. you nodded and among the incoherent babbling, you managed to scream his name. “yes, yes, i want your cum, leon!”

he pressed a wet kiss on your shoulder and grunted. “that’s my girl.” with more sloppy thrusts, he spilled his release in you, ropes of cum painting your womb white, filling it up.

you moaned at the sensation and finally let your own inhibitions go. he rubbed your clit while he thrusted in and out slowly, your hips stuttered in rhythm to your own orgasmic high, spurts of juices squirting on the mattress.

leon pulled out with a pop and your pussy twitched and ached with the emptiness. he put two fingers in, scooping his dripping cum with the tip to push them back in you.

“leon,” you groaned and let your body fall on the mattress completely. his body spooned yours and you both laid there, falling asleep.

a few hours later, you awoke from the sound of a chiming phone. you realised it was leon’s. you slipped out of bed quietly and took his phone out of his pants on the floor then opened the messages.

you smiled and slipped back into bed, wrapping your arms around him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. he grunted but his eyes remained closed, regardless he looked peaceful.

he skipped work after all. maybe you need to thank him properly later.

#ggyuha 🍓 #leon kennedy #leon smut #leon x reader #resident evil leon #resident evil #resident evil infinite darkness