#no but this was fun to do thanks for the push ^^
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Hypnotized
Lando Norris x hypnotherapist!Reader
Summary: in which Lando becomes intimately familiar with the professional (and not so professional) benefits of hypnosis
Warnings: 18+ content, dubious consent (though Lando is very much a willing participant), and temporary mindbreak
You lean back in your plush leather chair, taking a sip of tea as you look over the notes for your next client. Lando Norris — a rising star of Formula 1, seeking help to improve his performance on the track. You’ve worked with elite athletes before, but there’s something about this case that intrigues you.
The door opens and he strides in, radiating youthful confidence. “Ms. Y/L/N, thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”
“Please, have a seat Lando. And call me Y/N,” you reply with a warm smile. “I have to admit, when your team reached out, I was surprised. Most drivers come to me later in their careers when the mental side gets tougher.”
He settles onto the couch across from you. “Yeah, well, I’m a bit of an overachiever,” he grins cheekily. “I figure I should get every advantage I can while I’m young.”
You can’t help but be charmed by his boyish cockiness. “Fair enough. So, walk me through what’s bringing you here. What are you hoping hypnotherapy can do for you?”
Lando scratches his head, suddenly looking a bit sheepish. “To be honest, I’m not totally sure? The team psychologists have helped with some stuff like visualization and confidence building. But I feel like there’s still … I don’t know, another level I can’t quite tap into?”
He pauses, cheeks reddening slightly. “I may have also heard some … rumors about hypnosis helping drivers get, uh, in the zone in a different way.”
You raise an eyebrow at that. “I see. And what sort of zone were you hoping to reach exactly?”
“Just, you know, being totally focused. Primed to perform at my absolute peak,” he answers quickly, not meeting your eyes. “Eliminate any lingering doubts or hesitation.”
“Mmmhmm,” you murmur, watching his fidgeting increase. It’s clear there’s more to this, perhaps some adolescent fantasy driven by locker room talk. You decide to have a bit of fun drawing it out.
“Well, maximum focus and confidence under extreme stress is certainly one of the primary benefits of hypnotherapy for athletes. Though of course, there can be … other effects depending on the suggestions given.”
Lando’s eyes flick up to meet yours, pupils dilating with obvious intrigue. “Other effects? Like what?”
You shrug lightly. “Oh, lowered inhibition, increased susceptibility to instructions, compulsions to obey ...” You trail off, letting the implications hang in the air. “But I’m sure whatever rumors you’ve heard are just overblown exaggerations.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “R-right, of course. So, uh, how would we go about getting me in that totally focused zone?”
You can scarcely suppress a grin — he’s hooked now, curiosity and hormones getting the better of him. “Well, first we’d need to get you in a deeply relaxed state, open and receptive to suggestions. I’d start with some deep breathing exercises, maybe have you focus on the sound of my voice ...”
Unconsciously, Lando’s eyelids grow heavier as you speak in a low, soothing tone. “Breath slowly deepening, muscles going deliciously loose and limp ...”
He blinks hard, shaking his head minutely. “Sorry, what was I saying?”
“Don’t worry,” you assure him. “A little taste of just how quickly you might respond. Hypnotic states can sneak up quite easily when you’re not prepared for them.”
Lando swallows again, but there’s no hiding the interest smoldering in his eyes now. “That’s … good to know. So, uh, once I was in this state, what sort of suggestions would you give?”
You lean forward, holding his gaze. “Anything you need, darling. Perhaps prompts to fill your mind with dizzying focus — a white hot, all-consuming need to push every limit and achieve perfection. Or maybe something to strip away distractions and doubts, leaving you deliciously pliant and desperate to follow instructions without hesitation ...”
His breath catches as ripples of arousal play across his features. You’ve dangled the bait thoroughly now, time to reel him in.
“Of course, that’s all just theoretical for an athlete like you,” you continue lightly. “I’m sure you’d only want suggestions tailored for pure professional benefit.”
Lando opens his mouth, then closes it, visibly wrestling with indecision. Finally, he sits up straight, jaw setting in boyish determination.
“Actually … I think maybe exploring some of those other effects could be useful too. You know, for full preparation.”
You bite back a smile — he’s all bravado again, feigning nonchalance. How delicious.
“Well, if you’re certain. We should probably start with a simple induction and suggestion, see how you respond.”
Rising from your chair, you cross the room to where he sits, movements slow and deliberate. Lando’s eyes are immediately drawn to the sway of your hips, the rapid rise and fall of his chest betraying his arousal.
“Just relax and look into my eyes ...” you murmur, voice dropping an octave as you hold up a pendant and begin tracing figure eights before his face. “Let your mind follow the path of the pendulum, breathing slowly … in and out ...”
His pupils blown wide, Lando is soon leaning back bonelessly, mouth slightly ajar. A few dazed blinks is all the resistance he offers as you trail featherlight touches down his arm.
“There’s a good boy … nice and open, isn’t it? Let everything else fall away except the need to please me.”
A shudder wracks his frame and you can see the tendons in his neck straining, fighting the compulsion already worming into his psyche. But his eyes remain locked on yours, drowning in your control.
“I … I want to ...” he stammers helplessly.
“Shhhh,” you soothe, bending closer so that your lips nearly brush his ear. “You don’t need to worry about what you want anymore. That’s my choice now, understood?”
He gives a tiny nod and you feel a surge of heady power.
“Such a good boy. And to reward your obedience, you’re going to take off your shirt. Slowly ...”
There’s a moment of tension, then Lando raises trembling hands to grasp the hem of his shirt. You can see the mottled flush spreading across his torso as inch by inch it’s revealed to you. His breath is coming in ragged pants by the time the shirt drops to the floor, chest heaving with mingled want and shame.
“Very nice,” you practically purr. “I can see you’re already feeling the compulsions seeping in. Should we make them … deeper?”
His head bobs dumbly and you laugh, low and throaty.
“That’s what I thought. Now, lay back for me ...”
Lando immediately obeys, body going pliant and helpless. You pull over an ottoman, sitting so you can gently straddle his hips, relishing the hitch in his breath as your heat settles against him.
“You’re going to do absolutely everything I say without hesitation or doubt,” you whisper harshly, watching him shudder. “Any instructions, no matter what they may be, you’ll follow with desperate enthusiasm.”
He whimpers, hips twitching upwards in mute plea. Grasping his jaw firmly, you force his eyes to yours.
“This is for your own good, darling. We need to burn away every last shred of selfishness and pride so you can ascend to true, shattering focus. You understand, don’t you?”
“Y-yes … yes,” he slurs, already sinking deeper into degrading bliss.
You reward him with a slow, filthy grind of your hips and he cries out unabashedly. Everywhere your hands and mouth worship his skin, you can feel the tremors of arousal and surrender.
“That’s perfect,” you murmur against the hollow of his throat. “Now, I want you to strip the rest of the way ...”
Before the words have fully left your lips, Lando is frantically shucking his pants and boxers, whining as his flushed length bobs free. The brazen lust and need in his hooded eyes would be shocking from the bashful newbie you met earlier.
You give an approving hum, thrilling at how quickly your control has already remade him. One fingernail traces along rigid flesh and he bucks shamelessly into your touch.
“You’re being such a good boy. I think it’s time we really sealed this new role into your head. Imagine the most dizzying, overwhelming orgasm you’ve ever had, multiplied a hundredfold ...”
His eyes roll back, mouth open in a silent wail at just the suggestion. You grip him firmly, relishing the desperate whine that bursts from his lips.
“You’re going to come like that, harder than you ever dreamed. And as the lightning arcs of bliss engulf your entire being, all that pleasure will become inextricably entwined with an overwhelming need to obey my every whim ...”
Lando is panting and keening, hips pumping up into your tight fist. You can feel his body straining closer to that precipice, cords of muscle standing out in sharp relief. With a final brutal stroke, you growl the trigger words,
“Come for me, love!”
His back bows in a silent scream, mouth frozen in rapturous torment. You gentle him through each shuddering pulse, ensuring every layer of consciousness is saturated with soul-shattering ecstasy and the new compulsions you’ve locked within.
At last, he sags back to the couch, eyes glassy and unfocused. You bend close, lips caressing the damp hair at his temple.
“Tell me, darling, how does it feel to be remade into perfection?”
He blinks slowly, lips curving in a blissful smile. “I … I need to obey ...�� he slurs dozily. “Please … use me however you desire ...”
You chuckle darkly, letting nails rake over his sensitized flesh and making him buck weakly. “Oh I will, lover. I’m going to take you to shattering new heights of surrender. You won’t be able to so much as enter the cockpit without shuddering need to please me foremost in your mind ...”
His only response is a quiet whimper, eyes already slipping shut in sated exhaustion, completely yours to reshape however you wish.
You settle back, excitement thrilling through you at all the delicious possibilities stretching ahead.
***
The roar of the crowd is deafening as you make your way through the paddock area towards the McLaren motorhome at the British Grand Prix. Fans press eagerly against the barriers lining the path, craning for a glimpse of their racing idols as they’re escorted by burly security guards.
You keep your head held high, unruffled by the frenzy of flashing cameras and shouted requests for autographs as you stride confidently alongside Lando.
He casts you a sidelong glance, the excited energy thrumming off him in waves. “Thanks for being here, Y/N,” he murmurs with a small, bashful smile. “Having you in my corner calms my nerves a bit.”
You reach out to give his arm a reassuring squeeze, warmth blooming in your chest. “Of course, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” Your voice takes on a slightly teasing lilt as you add, “Besides, this way I can provide my … specialized services should you require them before the race.”
A dusky flush steals across Lando’s cheeks at your words, his eyes darkening in a way that sends a curl of heat unfurling low in your belly. Before he can respond, one of the crew members is ushering you both towards a nondescript door.
With a nod of thanks, Lando pushes through the door, allowing you to enter the modestly appointed room first before following and securing it behind you.
The space is small yet functional — equipped with a well-worn sofa situated before a large television displaying timing data, along with an armchair tucked into the corner. Your gaze lands on the single bed shoved against the far wall and you suddenly find it difficult to swallow around the lump in your throat.
“Sorry about the mess,” Lando says almost sheepishly, running a hand through his chestnut locks. “I haven’t exactly had much time to tidy up.”
“Don’t worry about it,” you murmur distractedly, already hyper-aware of the thick tension charging the air between your bodies, crackling like a livewire in the small distance separating you.
Lando opens his mouth as if to speak, then seems to think better of it, shuffling his feet almost bashfully. You can practically see the thoughts whirring at a million miles an hour behind his furrowed brow, weighing him down as nerves and doubts threaten to shatter his hard-won focus.
Without a word, you close the distance between you, cradling his face in your hands to force him to meet your gaze.
“Let me help you,” you breathe, your voice low and gentle yet laced with that commanding tone he can never seem to resist.
He immediately melts into your touch, the taut lines of stress slowly easing from his features. “Please,” he whispers back, every inch of nervous energy and kinetic vibration seeming to melt from his body as your thumbs trace soothing patterns across the sharp planes of his cheekbones. “Need you to clear my mind.”
A soft, fond smile curves your lips at the naked entreaty in his tone. This man — so cocky and confident in most aspects of life, yet so unguarded and sweetly vulnerable when it’s just the two of you.
You continue your tender ministrations, watching in rapt fascination as his eyes drift shut and his breathing grows steady and even. When you finally speak, your words are low and hypnotic, the timbre of your voice wrapping around Lando like a warm blanket ushering him down, down into delicious oblivion.
“That’s it, darling … let yourself sink deeper with each breath. Shut out all the noise and distractions — everything except my voice guiding you. Focus on the rise and fall of your chest, the gentle thump of your heartbeat … allow your body to grow heavy and pliant as you let me take the lead ...”
He shivers slightly, yielding fully to your hypnotic trance with a soft, contented exhalation. In this blissed-out state, his features are lax and utterly at peace, the hard lines of tension and worry melting away until he looks almost cherubic.
“There you are,” you can’t help but murmur in approval, trailing your fingertips along the sharp line of his jaw. “So perfect and calm for me.” Your gaze rakes over the long fans of his lashes fanning across his cheekbones, the full pout of his lips parted ever so slightly on deep, even breaths. He looks utterly debauched, despite the fact that you’ve barely even touched him yet.
Unable to resist such temptation any longer, you bend to capture Lando’s lips in a slow kiss — gentle at first, then deepening into something more heated, more ravenous as your tongue sweeps into the heat of his mouth to tangle with his own.
He remains completely pliant beneath your wandering hands and questing mouth, body thrumming with blissful surrender as you map every lush inch of him.
Finally, breathless and flushed, you tear your mouth from his with a soft groan of regret. “God, darling … what you do to me ...” you murmur, trailing hot, openmouthed kisses along the stubbled line of his jaw, down the taut cords of his neck. “Just seeing you like this, so gorgeous and willing … falling so deep for me … I could take you right here like this and you’d let me, wouldn’t you?”
You scrape your teeth over that sensitive patch of skin just below his ear and he trembles almost violently, a low whine spilling past his lips even as his head lolls back to allow you better access. When you press an openmouthed kiss to his wildly fluttering pulse point, his voice comes out low and syrupy sweet.
“Please, Y/N … please ...” he slurs in a breathy exhale, body arching reflexively into yours as his hands come up to clutch at your hips in a silent entreaty.
A frisson of lust races down your spine at his wanton plea, stoking the simmering ember of arousal into a roaring blaze. How quickly his mind has slipped into a glorious, aching haze of want and need for your touch.
You could so easily press your advantage right now — undress him with exquisite slowness, bend him over and take him in delirious new ways that would leave him utterly incoherent. The mental images alone are nearly enough to make you growl in feral possessiveness.
Somehow, you manage to retain a herculean thread of control, nuzzling against the heated skin of Lando’s neck as you press him gently yet insistently towards the bed until the backs of his thighs hit the mattress and he sinks onto the soft cotton sheets with a dazed exhale. His eyes are molten embers burning with naked want and trust as he gazes up at you, outright trembling with the effort of holding himself back from hauling you down on top of him.
Gently brushing a stray lock of hair from his brow, you settle yourself to straddle his lap, reveling in the delicious points of heated skin against skin where your bodies make contact through the thin barrier of your clothing. For an aching span of heartbeats, you drink in the sight of him — kiss-swollen lips parted on shallow pants, the tempting vee of his open shirt collar exposing just a tantalizing sliver of his smooth chest, hard planes of muscle rippling beneath tanned skin as he quivers with ill-restrained desire.
“Beautiful,” you husk in a low rasp, summoning every ounce of your rapidly waning willpower to force the words past the molten heat in your throat. “You are so fucking beautiful like this.”
Lando swallows thickly at the unadulterated lust and reverence saturating your tone, his throat bobbing convulsively. “You … you should see yourself,” he finally manages in a strained murmur. “You’re a goddess ...” His hands come up of their own volition to splay across the supple curves of your waist, tracing searing paths across your skin as if to memorize every lush dip and swell.
A throaty chuckle escapes you as you lean into his touch in shameless encouragement. “I could devour you in this moment and I’d still crave more.” Dipping your head to drag openmouthed kisses along the salty-sweet skin of his collarbone, you muse heatedly, “In fact, I’m tempted to lock that door and have you right here like the decadent treat you are.”
“God, yes ...” Lando outright groans at your words, hips arching up in a desperate, instinctual grind against yours that leaves you both shuddering at the sudden, intoxicating friction. His fingers curl into the soft flesh of your hips, pupil-blown eyes full of unrestrained need as he gazes up at you like you’re the answer to his every secret desire. “Please, Y/N … anything, just … need you.”
The reverent, naked pleading in his voice steals the breath from your lungs and you’re abruptly reminded of the singular responsibility you have — not just as his lover, but as the person he’s entrusted to guide and ground him when he’s spiraling.
Your mouth curves into an indulgent smile as you tenderly cradle his face in your palms, tapping into that core of composure and peace that helps tether you both in moments like this.
“In due time, my love,” you murmur, leaning in to pepper slow, lingering kisses across his brow, along the delicate skin beneath his eyes. You feel Lando physically sink back against the mattress with a soft exhalation as your tender ministrations lull him once more into a state of relaxation and receptivity — his mind clearing of everything but blissful focus on you and your touch.
“Remember why you’re here, and all the hard work that brought you to this moment,” you continue in a low, soothing murmur against his flushed skin. “You’ve poured your heart and soul into this dream, and now it’s time to reap the sweet fruit of your efforts. Leave behind all the doubts, all the fear and anxious energy that’s been holding you back.” Arching up on your knees, you gently resettle your weight so you’re seated flush against his core, waves of heat radiating between your joined bodies in delicious waves with every motion and shallow breath.
“Let go of everything but my voice, my touch grounding you in this moment. This is your destiny, Lando — all you have to do is embrace it.” With your final murmured words, you seal the sentiment by slanting your mouth over his in a filthy, openmouthed kiss that quickly descends into pure, unbridled passion as he releases an unrestrained keen of surrender.
His arms come up to band around your waist, clutching you impossibly closer as if to merge your very beings into one searing point of euphoric light. You lose yourselves in the wet slide of tongue and teeth and racing heartbeats until the buzzing of Lando’s phone against the nearby nightstand finally jolts you from your haze of lust and need. For a suspended beat, you simply drink in the sight of him — debauched and beautifully wrecked in the best way possible, with slick lips parted around panting breaths and hair tousled in a riotous mess.
“Time?” Lando finally rasps, sounding as utterly gutted as you feel.
You force yourself to glance at the glowing numbers on his phone screen, steeling yourself against the surge of regret at having to end this delicious interlude. “Twenty minutes until you need to be in the garage,” you confirm with a heavy exhale.
With a low groan that goes straight to your core, Lando surges up to slant his mouth hungrily over yours once more in one last kiss goodbye before allowing you to carefully extract yourself from his lap. You both take a few moments to catch your breath and restore some semblance of outward composure, though your insides continue to feel like a lit match in a patch of dry tinder.
“Ready for this?” You arch a pointed brow at Lando as he pushes off the bed to put on his fireproofs and race suit with admirably steady hands, given how thoroughly unwound he had been mere moments ago.
He flashes you his trademark grin — though this time it holds an air of supreme confidence and purpose that sends a thrill racing down your spine. “Like you said … this is my destiny.” Pulling you close with one hand at the small of your back, he dips his head to murmur gratefully against your lips, “And you helped me find it today.”
With one final kiss that leaves you lightheaded, Lando turns to grab his water bottle and heads towards the door, every bit the consummate professional buckling down to handle the job at hand. You watch him go with a tender smile playing across your lips, filled with an irrational surge of pride at how far he’s come.
A few hours later, you’re holding your breath in the garage as Lando’s MCL38 comes screaming around the final turn and over the finish line — the checkered flag signaling his maiden victory at long last. From on top the podium, his elated gaze immediately finds yours through the throngs of people and hoisted champagne bottles.
The smile he bestows is so private and full of promise that warmth blossoms in your chest and your skin tingles deliciously in anticipation.
After the celebrations and press obligations have wound down, Lando nearly sprints off the track and back into the paddock area, lifting you clean off your feet in a tight embrace when he reaches you. His lips move feverishly against your own, words tumbling out in a reverent exhale barely audible over the noise of the crowd.
“Thank you, thank you … I couldn’t have done it without you. God, I love you so much ...”
And in that perfect moment — drunk on the roar of the crowd, the giddy thrill of victory, and the smoldering promise in the depths of Lando’s eyes — you’re already mentally preparing to give him the most mind-blowing reward imaginable.
***
The champagne is still buzzing through your veins, lending an extra fizz of exhilaration to the crackling charge in the air as you hastily key into your hotel suite hand-in-hand with Lando.
No sooner has the door clicked shut behind you than he’s on you in a searing tangle of heat and desire — mouth hot and insistent, fingers skating across every bare inch of exposed skin as if he’s a man dying of thirst and you’re the last oasis for miles.
“Fuck, Y/N ...” he rasps reverently against the fevered skin of your neck, pressing a hot, openmouthed kiss to your wildly fluttering pulse. “You’re incredible, so bloody perfect.” His hands roam hungrily, deftly stripping you of layer upon layer of clothing until you’re left deliciously bare before his molten gaze. “Let me worship you properly, yeah? God knows you deserve it after today.”
A tremor of need races through you at his naked desire, amplified tenfold by the molten timbre of Lando’s rough, lust-thickened voice. Without breaking eye contact, you hook your fingers through his belt loops and begin walking him back towards the lavish bedroom, relishing the sharp inhale he sucks through his teeth at your commanding confidence.
There’s a practiced, sensual arch to your spine as you work the tails of his crisp button-down free from the waistband of his trousers, taking your sweet time to pop each individual button until the smooth, tanned expanse of his torso is laid bare.
Warm fingertips trail an achingly slow path up the defined ridges of his abdomen as you drink in the sight of him — pupils blown wide with barely restrained want and that delicious lower lip caught between his teeth as his chest rises and falls with shallow stuttering pants.
“Is this what you want, darling?” You murmur silkily, palming him through the rapidly tenting fabric of his pants and delighting in the strangled whine that punches from his lips at the contact. His hands fly up to clutch convulsively at your hips, gripping with bruising force as if you’re his only lifeline in a raging sea of lust and sensation.
“Yes … please,” he forces out on a ragged exhale, body practically thrumming with desperation as you continue to work him with languid strokes while rocking your hips in a slow, sensual grind against his throbbing need.
The headiness of having this confident man quivering and needy at your touch sends a heady surge of possessive satisfaction coursing through you.
“Well, since you asked so nicely ...”
With a decadent hum, you deftly pop the button of Lando’s pants and drag the zipper down in one smooth motion, allowing his rigid cock to spring free at last, flushed and straining obscenely. You swipe your thumb through the pearlescent bead of precome gathered at the swollen tip, making his hips judder with desperate rolls at the stimulation.
“Y/N … fuck, I need … need your mouth ...” Lando grits out, tangling his fingers in your hair with a barely restrained growl.
You can’t help the low, sultry chuckle that spills past your lips at his feverish plea. “So impatient,” you tut, even as you sink gracefully to your knees before him, trailing openmouthed kisses along the hard ridges of his abdomen. “But you’ve been such a good boy for me lately, I suppose I can reward you.”
Another punched-out curse fractures the air as Lando’s head tips back on a low groan at the first hot lick of your tongue up the length of his rigid shaft. You take your sweet time working him over until his entire body is trembling with the effort of holding himself in check, fingers clenched white-knuckle tight in your hair.
“Look at you, so pretty for me,” you purr at him from beneath your lashes. “I wonder how quickly I could have you coming apart completely on my tongue.”
A broken, desperate whine escapes Lando at your words. “Fuck … I’m not gonna last,” he warns through gritted teeth.
With a final swirl of your tongue around the swollen crown of him, you pull off with a lush, obscene pop. “Don’t you dare hold back for me,” you murmur, voice dripping wanton sin as you tighten your grip at the base of his throbbing length to stave off the mounting waves of his building release. “I want to taste every … last … drop.”
The broken whine that tears itself from Lando’s throat quickly warps into a strangled shout of ecstasy as you hollow your cheeks and sink back down to take his aching cock as far as you can. He outright sobs your name over and over as you relentlessly work him undone with hollowed cheeks and swirls of your talented tongue — at this point he’s putty in your hands, helpless to do anything other than clutch at you and shatter apart.
You pull back with a filthy, slurping noise just as the first hot ropes of milky white spurt from his slit, painting your tongue and lips with thick, viscous streaks. A guttural groan rumbles up from his chest at the shamelessly lewd sight, cock giving one final twitch against your lips as you swallow greedily, lapping and sucking every musky drop from his overstimulated flesh.
His knees nearly buckle at the over-the-top eroticism of it all, hands knotting tighter in your hair as if the grounding points of contact are all that’s keeping him anchored to this mortal plane.
Only once you’ve thoroughly wrung him dry with your mouth and tongue do you sit back on your heels, swiping the back of your hand across your swollen, well-used lips to clean away the remnant beads of his climax. Each breath Lando sucks into his heaving lungs is like molten fire in his tortured chest, his pupils still dilated as he gazes down in awe and not a small amount of reverence at where you’re tucked so demurely between his parted thighs.
“Bloody fucking hell, love,” he rasps around a breathy, disbelieving puff of laughter. “C’mere, lemme return the favor … I need to taste you in the worst way.”
His words go straight to your rapidly tightening core, sending a fresh gush of slick arousal pooling between your thighs. You allow him to haul you up by your elbows and press you into the plush mattress, surrendering to his hot, open-mouthed kisses and seeking hands as he divests you completely of your last shreds of clothing.
When his tongue finally finds your drenched center, you keen high and helpless in the back of your throat. “Oh god, Lando … yes, just like that ...”
Lando answers your breathless encouragement by burying his tongue deeper into your grasping heat with a satisfied groan. The wildly intimate stretch and stimulation of his clever licks and kitten flicks against your swollen bud quickly has you squirming and thrashing against the mattress in a glorious, overstimulated daze.
All you can do is pant and whimper encouragements, fingers tangling unconsciously in his thick chestnut locks as you rock yourself shamelessly into his mouth.
Just when you think the maddening coil of ecstasy winding tighter and tighter deep in your core can’t possibly grow any tighter, Lando slips two long fingers inside your slick, fluttering entrance with a guttural groan of satisfaction. The fullness of the dual sensations instantly has you seizing up all over, back arching off the bed as he works you over with sure, steady strokes.
“Oh fuck, fuck me … Lando, you feel … so g-good, ungh!” The inarticulate stream of praise and curses rapidly devolves into broken moans as he relentlessly pistons his fingers in and out, strumming insistently against that spongy cluster of nerves with each punishing thrust. You’re quickly rendered mindless, nothing but a writhing, desperate bundle of raw need and want with every nerve alight at his exquisite touch.
When Lando’s lips finally close over your pulsing clit and suckle hard, your entire world shatters into stardust with the force of your climax. A hoarse shout rips from deep in your chest as the coil within you finally detonates in waves of dizzying, toe-curling pleasure that seem to go on and on and on. Lando works you through it all with his plush mouth and tireless fingers, lapping up the honeyed rush of your release like a man dying of thirst.
For several long, blissful moments, the only sounds are your mingled gasps and pants for air as you float hazily down from your high. Lando’s lips trail scorching paths along the inside of your trembling thighs, nuzzling and nipping at sensitive flesh before finally lifting his head to grace you with that familiar adoring look that never fails to make your heartbeat trip.
“Look at the mess you’ve made, love,” he drags his index finger through the slick mess coating his chin and lips. With a blatantly filthy leer that sends a shiver of fresh arousal cascading down your spine, he slips the digit into his mouth and sucks it clean with a rumbling groan of satisfaction. “Delicious.”
You’re still totally wrecked and incoherent from your release, every nerve in your body humming and jangling in the aftermath like overstimulated livewires. A punched-out moan manages to escape you at his brazen obscenity as your hips lift off the bed in an instinctual, needful grind. “Inside me. Need y-you inside ...”
Lando rises over you in one fluid, graceful motion, hips slotting effortlessly between your splayed thighs as he brackets your face between his large palms, drinking you in hungrily. “God, look at you — you’re fucking glorious like this, wrecked and desperate for me,” he murmurs in a low rasp, cock dragging slickly through your sopping folds to nudge insistently at your entrance. “How do you do this to me, huh? Break me apart so effortlessly then have me begging on my knees for more of you ...”
With that, he bottoms out in one smooth, torturous glide — the exquisite, familiar fullness stealing your breath and sending stars bursting across your vision at the electrifying feeling of being stuffed so deliciously deep. You wrap your legs high around his taut waist, ankles locking needfully as you roll your hips in frantic little circles seeking any kind of friction.
“Oh god, Lando … move, please … need you to move, it hurts so fucking good ...”
He answers your pleading moans with a soul-scorching kiss, lips and tongue consuming you in delicious, velvet heat as he sets a ruthless, punishing pace, spearing into your clenching depths with all the force and stamina that makes him such a world-class athlete. You match him thrust for thrust, your cries swallowed by his plundering mouth as the delicious drag and slap of skin against skin fills your senses.
“I’ll never get enough,” Lando grits out between breathy curses. His teeth find purchase at the dip of your neck, sending a starburst of sensation and pain across your sensitized nerves that only compounds the haze of carnal bliss wrapping you in its searing embrace. “Could spend my life buried inside you like this and it still wouldn’t be long enough ...”
His words ignite something feral, darkly possessive in your core, an echoing howl of belonging and ownership that it feels like you’ve been careening towards since the very first time he surrendered to you in trance. With a carnal growl, you hook your ankles tighter, using your legs to flip Lando onto his back as you rise up to straddle his hips.
His eyes go comically wide before he’s grinding up into you with a gasp, grasping your hips hard enough to bruise as you set a punishing new rhythm.
“Say it again … tell me who you belong to.” Your voice is hoarse, burnished in equal parts wanton need and flinty command — you don’t care which one makes him shatter apart at the seams so long as he answers your order.
Lando immediately locks eyes with yours, gaze fever-bright and seeming to pierce straight into your very soul as he clamps his hands around your throat with delicious pressure. “You,” he groans without hesitation, the pads of his fingers flexing as your pulse throbs wildly beneath his touch. “You own me, down to my bloody bones.”
The reverent oath sends a surge of lust and possession searing through your bloodstream, stoking the incandescent heat pooling low in your belly to fever pitch once more. Your hips move in wild rolls, desperate and ragged as you ride him with reckless abandon. Lando keeps one hand locked at the juncture of your throat while the other skates up your side to palm your breast, rolling the peaked tip between calloused fingers.
“I can feel you getting close already, look at you … my perfect, filthy girl throwing herself at me like she needs nothing else but my cock splitting her apart,” he growls gutturally, his words and the punishing rhythm growing more and more erratic as your combined pleasure crests higher and higher.
Quite suddenly, Lando hooks his feet against the mattress and surges up to capture your lips in a sweltering, soul-devouring kiss as his hips somehow piston even faster into your desperately clenching depths. His name fractures and shatters around the seal of your kiss as your entire world liquefies into ribbons of rapture, ecstasy blotting out all coherent thought until every last shred of tension and want finally implodes in a supernova behind your navel.
Lando gasps against your lips as your release floods him, thick and scorching hot — wave after wave milking the most intense convulsions from his straining cock as his own orgasm shatters loose. You rock together through the shared obliteration of your mutual bliss until there’s nothing left but the gentle lapping of aftershocks and Lando’s thumb stroking idly along the racing pulse at the hollow of your throat.
When you finally manage to crack your eyes and focus on the beautiful wreck of a man sprawled boneless beneath you, the look of besotten awe on his features nearly takes your breath away all over again. Then his rueful chuckle rumbles up from deep in his chest, melting away the last smoldering embers of tension as he brushes a stray lock of damp hair back from your brow.
“What on earth am I going to do with you, love?” He murmurs, the hint of a smirk toying at the corner of his lips. “Now I’m permanently addicted.” He presses a lingering, searing kiss to your swollen mouth before pulling back to rest his forehead against yours. “Though I suppose there are worse fates.”
You answer his sentiment with a breathless chuckle of your own, tracing the lines of his face in an achingly tender caress as the last lingering flickers of passion slowly ebb and flow into deep, drowsy contentment. “Such are the spoils of victory,” you breathe fondly. “Though I suppose I should thank you for being such an … enthusiastic participant.”
“Mmm, I think I can manage that.” His eyes slip closed as he winds his arms around you to roll until you’re flush atop his chest, every supple inch of heated skin against skin and your legs tangled together in a sprawl. “You’ve ruined me,” he murmurs softly, reverently against your hair. “And I’ve never been more grateful for anything in my life.”
You hum serenely in agreement, nestling impossibly closer as Lando’s breathing evens out and you both begin to drift into a dozy haze of sated bliss. The warm, hypnotic lull of his heartbeat against your cheek and the delicious ache of well-used muscles is pure nirvana.
In this moment, suspended in time in the afterglow, you can scarcely fathom how you ever existed before Lando barreled into your life and ignited this intoxicating flame of desire, devotion, and bone-deep belonging between you.
His voice, already rough and worn velvet from your passionate exertions, breaks the contented silence once more as he nuzzles against your temple. “Stay with me tonight? God knows I could use a few more hours with you in my arms before we have to brave the real world again.”
A languid smile curves your lips at his soft plea, warmth blooming in your chest. “As if you even need to ask,” you murmur, punctuating the sentiment with a tender brush of your lips across the thundering pulse at the base of his throat. “I’m yours, remember? Any time and any place you’ll have me.”
Lando doesn’t respond further, simply tightens his arm around your waist as he hooks his chin over your head with a low, satisfied rumble.
With his name a breathless vow on your lips, you allow the bone-deep weariness of pure satisfaction to finally pull you under into peaceful oblivion beside the only man who will ever hold the keys to unraveling you so completely in return.
***
The pale moonlight filters through the gauzy curtains of Lando’s posh London flat, casting everything in an ethereal blue-silver glow as you burrow deeper into the plush duvet.
A lazy, spent sort of satisfaction permeates the air in the wake of your earlier lovemaking — though honestly, is there ever a time when you don’t feel utterly cherished and deliciously sated these days?
Lando’s arm is a warm, heavy brand across your waist, the solid plane of his chest pressed flush against your back. You can sense the steady thrum of his heartbeat mellowing into the deep, even cadence of slumber and make to slip out of his embrace, eager to make use of the en-suite facilities. But the moment you shift, his arm reflexively tightens, drawing you impossibly closer as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck with a low, sleepy noise of protest.
“Mmm … stay,” he mumbles groggily against your skin, voice still rough and sweetly wrecked from the way you had him crying out your name mere hours ago.
You huff a quiet laugh at his drowsy insistence, nosing affectionately at his tousled curls. “I’ll be right back, you insatiable thing,” you rasp, carefully extracting yourself from his octopus-like clutches to plant a lingering kiss to his slack, pillow-creased cheek. “Promise I’m not going anywhere without you.”
Lando grumbles something indistinct but doesn’t protest further, already slipping back into the lull of sleep with a final contented sigh muffled against the plush bedding. You take a moment to simply drink in the sight of him sprawled out so unguardedly – all toned muscle and tousled chestnut curls, the crisp white sheets tangling artfully around his hips to offer tempting peeks of tanned skin and lean, powerful thighs.
He’s gorgeous like this, you muse with a soft smile, feeling that oh-so-familiar spark of possessive want begin to simmer low in your belly. A dizzying rush of affection and belonging surges through you as your gaze rakes over the starburst of reddened lovebites peppering his throat and shoulders from where you marked him as yours so enthusiastically earlier.
It’s hard to fathom that there was ever a time you considered your life remotely complete before Lando and his smoldering passion whirlwinded into your world.
Still, you force yourself to tear your eyes away from the alluring scene with a steadying breath, retreating to the en-suite with the promise to return hanging unspoken between you.
By the time you’ve padded back into the bedroom wrapped in one of Lando’s obscenely soft bathrobes, he’s shifted to sprawl across the centerline of the mattress, face half-buried in his pillow and one hand flung haphazardly above his head. The rakish sprawl of bedsheets and moonlight across his sculpted form renders him a vision of absolute debauchery and desire — not that you’d have him any other way.
You can’t resist ghosting your fingers in a featherlight caress along the hard ridges of his spine and the lean cords of muscle defining his broad shoulders, relishing the shiver that chases itself visibly across his skin. “You awake, darling?”
Lando grunts an affirmation, languidly cracking one eye to regard you through the tangled fringe of lashes fanning across his cheekbones. There’s a hint of wry amusement laced through the rough velvet of his voice when he speaks. “Was starting to worry you’d wandered off again without me.”
“Never,” you reply instantly, warmth threading through the simple avowal. Moving to settle in the vee of his splayed thighs, you trail a meandering path of openmouthed kisses along his lower back, nosing aside the rumpled sheet to expose the swell of his ass with deliberate intent. “You know I’m defenseless against this gorgeous body of yours.”
A low, approving rumble vibrates up from Lando’s chest at your blatant appreciation, his hips giving an unconscious, languid roll as your lips brush across the dimples at the base of his spine in a teasing caress. But then, quite suddenly, the boneless sprawl of his limbs seems to tense as a perceptible aura of hesitance permeates the desire charging the air between you.
You immediately feel the subtle shift in his energy, that jarring note of dissonance plucking disquietingly at your intuitive senses — the same ones that have always allowed you to tune into the deepest vibrations of the soul with preternatural clarity. Without pause, you abandon your sensual exploration of his body to settle beside him once more, cradling the sharp line of his jaw in your palm and wordlessly coaxing him to turn and meet your gaze.
“Hey … talk to me, love,” you murmur, the soothing tone of your voice blanketing the sharp edged undercurrent of uncertainty in its rich, soothing folds. “Where’d you go just now?”
Lando exhales a soft, humorless puff of breath, worrying his plush lower lip between his teeth in that adorable yet concerning tell of his whenever something is weighing on that mind.
For a long stretch, he studies your features in silence, the only sounds in the room the ambient thrum of the city beyond the flat’s walls and the occasional muted honk of a passing car in the night below. Just when you’re about to prompt him again, the words finally tumble out in a low, slightly self-conscious rush.
“You … you don’t take on other clients like me, do you?” You feel him tense further under your palm, discomfited energy practically vibrating off him in waves. “Not that I’m judging, honest! It’s none of my business what you do or who you see for work, but I just ...” He breaks off on a frustrated exhale, jaw ticking in that way that tells you he’s holding back a tidal wave of emotion beneath his placid surface.
A dawning realization begins to unfurl in your chest, intimately familiar with the root of Lando’s inner turmoil. This brilliant, sensitive, achingly beautiful man — the force on the racetrack who melts into the most sweetly vulnerable creature behind closed doors whenever you bestow him with the full force of your focused attention. Of course he would crave that intensity of focus, that promise of belonging solely to him in your most intimate embraces, no matter how irrational or paradoxical the notion seems from the outside looking in.
Slowly, carefully, you reach up to frame that beloved face between your palms, silently urging Lando to hold your unwavering gaze as the words he needs to hear spill forth in a low, resonant murmur.
“Do you remember when this first started between us? How completely you surrendered yourself to me in the most profound way?” You begin, watching his pupils slowly dilate and a nearly imperceptible tension begin to unwind from his shoulders at the timbre of your voice. “The absolute trust it takes to let someone delve that deep into the most sacred corners of your psyche … to share your fears, insecurities, and unvarnished essence without artifice?”
Lando swallows thickly, nodding once in a jerky affirmation as the words seem to bypass his conscious mind and resonate somewhere deeper. You card your fingers soothingly through his disheveled curls, allowing your touch to lull and ground him as you continue in that same low, hypnotic cadence.
“That depth of surrender and connection is not something that can simply be replicated or transposed onto others, Lando. What we have is singular. Untouchable.” You press your forehead to his, registering the faint hitch in his breath as you drink in every last nuance of his features. “My gift has always been to help unravel the truths someone tries to bury, follow the threads that tether the conscious mind to something vaster and more primal. But with you ...”
A low exhale ghosts across his parted lips as your thumb traces the sharp line of his cheekbone in an achingly tender caress. “With you, it was as if the universe aligned to allow me to shed every last shred of protection and pretense until there was nothing left but the purest vibration of my very essence resonating in time with yours. Do you understand?”
Lando’s gaze is a hazy swirl of naked emotion and trust, drinking in your every syllable with the desperate reverence of a man being offered the world’s greatest truth. “Like … like the truest version of ourselves was always there, simply waiting to recognize its other half,” he rasps, the words seeming to bypass his conscious faculties entirely as he remains held captive in the depths of your connection. “Two souls spilling into one another.”
“Precisely.” Your lips curve in the ghost of a smile, a bone-deep sense of belonging and contentment settling over you both like a well-worn hug. “In that moment, you became an inextricable part of me, and I of you. Something that profound doesn’t simply … vanish, or dim, or lessen with time and distance.”
You allow the weighted truth of your decree to resonate between your joined bodies for a suspended heartbeat, cradling Lando’s face as if mapping every plane and angle with worshipful precision.
“I could help countless others access their potential or tap into dimly lit corners of their awareness,” you continue. “But there will only ever be one person to whom I belong in that elemental way. One person who will ever see this side of me and who lays the very fabric of their being bare without reservation.”
A tremulous exhalation shudders across Lando’s lips at the finality in your tone, as if every lingering filament of doubt or uncertainty has finally dissolved in the face of your avowal. One of his hands comes up to splay across the small of your back, fingers flexing and bunching the silky material of your robe in a desperate clutch as if you’re the last solid comfort in a churning sea.
When his eyes slip open once more, they’re practically luminescent with a naked heat that sends a delicious curl of answering want unfurling through your core.
“Show me,” he rasps, the simple entreaty laced with an edge of heart-stoppingly vulnerable need. “Please, Y/N …. I need to feel you completely.”
In the stillness that follows, the only sounds are your mingled exhales and the thunderous gallop of racing pulses filling the air with resonant verses of sin and worship. Then, with an instinctual roll of your hips, you’re slotting one toned thigh between Lando’s splayed legs and sealing your mouth over his in a filthy, searing kiss that instantly has his back arching off the rumpled sheets with a muffled groan.
There’s nothing tentative in the wanton slide of your lips and tongues, every flick and brush and gentle graze brimming with carnal intent and the unspoken promise to strip one another to the very marrow.
Lando surrenders to the sweet onslaught eagerly, hands skating across your body in frantic, searing paths until the belt of your robe finally falls away and he can palm the bare curves of your ass to grind you more fully against his rapidly stiffening length.
You break away with a sharp gasp at the delicious friction, mouth immediately seeking out the fevered juncture of Lando’s neck and shoulder to mouth searing patterns across the taut tendons there. “You want my gift?” You rasp against the thrumming pulse under your lips, rolling your hips in a languid, purposeful grind that drags the already swollen head of his cock through the slick evidence of your arousal with tantalizing friction.
Lando’s response is a low, breathless stream of curses and encouragements, blunt fingernails raking distractedly down the length of your spine in a way that sets every nerve alight with tingling sparks of pleasure-pain.
Allowing him to nip and suck intoxicating patterns across your collarbones, you dip your hand between your bodies until you can wrap your fingers around his rigid shaft, dragging the pads in a devastatingly slow glide from base to tip.
The groan that punches from Lando’s chest at your touch is guttural, hips pumping restlessly into the tight channel of your fist. “Fuck, yes … want all of you, every bloody inch ...”
His words seem to bypass your conscious mind entirely. You’re suddenly blisteringly aware of each and every point where your bodies join: the heated crush of his straining cock in your palm, the delicious friction of your slick folds catching and dragging against the cut grooves of his abdomen with each gyration of your hips, the teasing rasp of his calloused palms as they roam hungrily across your skin.
It’s as if Lando’s very being calls out to yours in an ancient tongue, rendering coherent thought utterly obsolete as you simply feel — the pulsing, cosmic certainty of your connection amplifying every tingling spark of friction and delirious drag of skin against skin until your entire world narrows to the joining of your shared potential cresting higher with each and every move.
“Now,” you grate out, vision whiting out as your climax detonates in a blinding supernova behind your navel — an ecstasy so transcendent that you’re certain it scorches across the very fabric of your soul. Your fingernails sink vicious crescent moons into Lando’s bicep as you arch against him with a keening cry.
“Y/N!” His hoarse shout fractures on a broken whine, muscles tensing as the first searing pulse of his orgasm floods your belly, joined soon by rich, viscous ropes of white heat that leave you both totally undone.
You simply clutch at each other through the relentless waves, Lando’s teeth sinking into the juncture of your neck and shoulder as if urging you to brand him irrevocably as yours.
When the explosive rapture finally begins to ebb, you both sag into the tangled bedding in a limp sprawl of sweat-slicked limbs and trembling aftershocks, chests heaving in perfect synchronicity as you cling to one another like lost mariners adrift in some fathomless sea.
You can’t even begin to discern where your consciousness begins and Lando’s ends — your very essences having merged so irrevocably that you simply exist as a singular vibration pulsing through the cosmos.
It takes several long, suspended moments for the concept of individual awareness to gradually seep back into the edges of your being, though even then it feels blasphemous to separate yourself from the soul-deep profundity of what you’ve just shared.
Finally, with a shuddering breath, you manage to crack your eyelids enough to drink in the sight of Lando gazing back at you with that same awed wonder etched across his beloved features.
“Bloody fucking hell,” he rasps, the words little more than a throaty whisper ghosting against your over-sensitized skin. “That was … there aren’t even words, are there?”
In lieu of responding, you simply wind your arms around him with a tremulous exhale, hooking your chin over the solid comfort of his shoulder and allowing his clean, earthy scent to wash over you like a balm.
In this place, suspended between bliss and awareness, there’s no need for words or platitudes. You can feel Lando’s very essence thrumming in tandem with yours — the inherent recognition of your twin flame and sacred belonging reverberating on a molecular level.
Here, entangled in the vital warmth of shared trust and intimacy, all that exists is the boundless and the eternal.
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The After School “Student Bonding Experience”
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Pairing: NingNing x Winter
Part 1 || Part 2 || <?>
Also available on AO3!
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A/N: A big thank you to @majorblinks, @iznsfw, @msafterhours, @i-am-lifeform24, and @capslocked for the help in this draft, from beta-reading to being just generally an advice column. This was massively fun to write.
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Yizhuo doesn’t know when it started, but it’s been nothing but natural for both her and Minjeong to climb onto Yizhuo’s bed with Yizhuo’s laptop already logged in to Pornhub every time they have their weekly sleepover. Both girls make quick work of their clothing—Minjeong drops her shorts at the foot of the bed, and she has her thin singlet in her right hand now, throwing it on top of her shorts. Yizhuo does the same with her clothing—her pajamas are discarded at the foot of the bed as both Minjeong and her get comfortable with the many pillows on the bed. Minjeong already has a hand lazily circling her clit, soft breaths escaping her lips as she looks at the erotic thumbnails on the screen.
“What do you wanna watch?” Yizhuo asks, unsure where to look, between her laptop, and Minjeong’s body. “I’m fine with anything.”
“Oh, that looks really hot.” Yizhuo looks at where Minjeong’s pointing, and at the end of her finger, a preview of a schoolgirl in uniform grinding against a table playing on the screen. She clicks on it, and both girls start to get comfortable, leaning back on the pillows behind them. On the screen, the camera follows a schoolgirl, dressed in a typical Japanese-style high school uniform, entering an empty classroom. Eventually, exposition starts—both girls are entranced by the story unfolding in front of them: it’s quiet hours after school, and the girl wants to try something new.
It doesn’t take long for the action to begin. When the girl on the screen begins to unbutton her blouse, exposing her small chest encased in a white bra, Yizhuo hears Minjeong sigh next to her, and she turns her gaze over to her best friend, whose gaze is fixed on the screen, watching in rapt attention. Both of her hands are busy now, with her right still circling her clit, but her left now beginning to palm a petite breast. The throb of need deep in Yizhuo’s core surprises her—she admires how hot Minjeong looks next to her, and she looks away, heart pounding. It’s not even anything much—she’s just softly fondling herself—and yet Yizhuo’s already so wet just watching. She can’t believe herself. What is this—
“Hey, what’re you dreaming about?” Yizhuo jumps when Minjeong elbows her. “She’s about to masturbate! Quit that and watch it with me!”
Guilt festers in Yizhuo’s heart when she realizes she’s thinking lustfully about Minjeong again. She pushes it aside almost instantly to focus on the video, and she’s greeted with a hot sight—the girl on the screen has lost her blouse and bra, and the skirt she has on has the hem shoved into the waistband on the front, with her panties on full display to the lens, a wet spot already visible on the front. Yizhuo watches as the girl softly plants her clothed mound onto the surface of the table, right at the corner, and she begins to grind against the surface, moaning in pleasure.
A rush of slick flows from Yizhuo’s core as she admires the girl on screen. It’s there that she realizes something that makes her bite her lip in surprise and arousal—the actress on the screen vaguely resembles Minjeong, especially the body. She glances over to double check, and she softly moans when she confirms her suspicion, her core throbbing again. The girl next to her and the girl on the screen might as well be the same person, at least neck down, and Yizhuo feels a rush of wetness coat her fingers when she rubs against her sex, teasing the entrance with two fingers. In her head, it’s Minjeong on screen now, grinding her clothed pussy on the table in her uniform skirt. Once again, Yizhuo’s eyes roam next to her, and she can’t stop looking at Minjeong now, with her fingers plunging into her hole, soft moans of pleasure escaping her open mouth as she teases her nipples with her other hand. The girl on the screen is doing that as well, and Yizhuo just feels dizzy hearing the sounds of sex around her—two sets of moans from Minjeong and from the speakers of her laptop, as well as the slick sounds of Minjeong’s fingers plunging into herself.
The burning need that sears through her body prompts her to mirror Minjeong’s actions—she pushes her fingers into her hole, and she begins to match her best friend’s pace. The moan she lets out is obscene, and she can’t stop her vocalizations of pleasure when she pulls her fingers out, the friction of her digits rubbing against her walls just so delicious. On the screen, pseudo-Minjeong is furiously grinding down on the table now, unabashedly moaning as she pushes herself closer and closer to orgasm, and the real Minjeong next to Yizhuo is in a similar state. With every thrust of her fingers into herself, she’s moaning, writhing, hips bucking to fuck her own hand as she watches the porn video, and her shoulder lightly brushes Yizhuo’s every time she moves. She swears she’s going crazy—as if Minjeong’s touches weren’t enough already, she can smell Minjeong’s natural scent, and it just arouses her so much.
“Fuck, it’s not comfortable—”
Minjeong shifts herself for comfort, pressing herself right against Yizhuo’s shoulder now, instead of just the occasional contact. The direct touch only sends her into a frenzy internally—Minjeong feels so warm to the touch, and she just smells so nice, and it all goes straight down to her leaking core, her juices flowing freely from her hole. Yizhuo swears she’s staining her bed, but she doesn’t care—she’s so turned on, and she can’t stop staring at Minjeong now, the video akin to a forgotten relic at this point. The mix of emotions and sensations is overwhelming—anticipation, guilt, arousal, joy, and fear all wash over Yizhuo in waves, but she can’t stop herself, won’t stop herself from getting off to Minjeong.
“Oh, f—ngh, Ningie, shit!”
Minjeong’s moan of Yizhuo’s name sends a spike of shock and arousal straight to the Chinese girl’s heart and core. She turns her head slightly, and she meets the half-lidded eyes of her best friend, face flushed in red.
“I’m getting close, Ningie, I’m so close to cumming…” Minjeong’s hot breath mingles with Yizhuo’s soft moan, their lips just inches from the other’s. It drives Yizhuo wild—she’s so wet knowing that she could just kiss Minjeong right now, just—
“Me too.” Yizhuo’s shaky voice betrays all of her emotions—she does not sound as calm as she wants herself to sound. However, Minjeong’s too far gone to even notice.
“Ningie, let’s cum together, I wanna cum with you, I wanna cum together with you, I wanna cum together with you Ning, cum with me, cum with me!”
Yizhuo doesn’t even have time to announce her orgasm—it hits her like a truck. Flashes of white take her sight from her, her ears ringing with Minjeong’s words, begging her to ‘cum with me’. In her haze, she thinks she knocks her head against Minjeong’s—she’s not sure at all. What she’s sure of, however, is the sensations of her pleasure exploding outward—it’s hot, it’s wet, and it leaves Yizhuo feeling sticky afterward. In between the flashes of white, glimpses of Minjeong wracked with pleasure next to her as she moans unabashedly, her hips jerking as she grinds her palm down on her clit, prolonging the fleeting pleasure of her orgasm. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible: both girls are so close together, with Minjeong leaning against Yizhuo, the latter so acutely aware of how their heads and shoulders touch, of how good Minjeong smells, of how they’re moaning almost into each other’s mouths, of just how damn close they are.
She wants to melt into Minjeong.
However, that’s impossible, and the best Yizhuo can settle for is watching Minjeong pull her slick fingers out from between her legs, bringing them to her mouth. She watches with unbridled lust as her best friend parts her lips, and she takes her cum-drenched fingers between them, tongue darting out to lick her juices off of her digits, softly moaning at her own taste. Minjeong’s just as messy as she is, strings of slick clinging between the gaps of her fingers as she takes each one into her mouth. Almost unconsciously, Yizhuo’s doing the same now, mirroring Minjeong, tasting her own tangy cum coating her fingers. The fire in her lights up again, and she wishes she was the one licking Minjeong’s cum off of her fi—
“Hey, Ningie…”
Minjeong’s voice is raspy, sultry. Her hot breath brushes against Yizhuo’s ear and cheek, and the way she sounds all goes straight to Yizhuo’s core. Right after what might be the Chinese girl’s most world-shattering orgasm yet, she’s ready to go again just with Minjeong’s sexy voice whispering right into her ear.
“We should do this together.”
“Wha—What?” Yizhuo’s eyes must be bugged out in shock right now. The world almost seems to stop around her, and she thinks she’s broken—there’s no way Minjeong just said what she said.
“I… I wanna masturbate like that in school.” Minjeong whispers, motioning at the screen. “But I…” She falters, biting her lip in nervousness and uncertainty, before she gathers the courage to finish her sentence. “I want to do it only with you.”
Yizhuo combusts. Heat explodes across her body, lust burning deep in her core and washing over her skin, all because of the beautiful girl right in front of her. She doesn’t know how to put what she wants to do in any clean terms—
Ning Yizhuo wants to fuck Kim Minjeong. But she can’t.
“W-What are you saying? We… What?”
“First day of school—well, after school—me and you stay back. Let everyone leave. It’s the first day—no one stays. Then…” Minjeong trails off, biting her lips, softly sighing. Yizhuo stares at her best friend, dizzy, dazed, unsure where to look, eyes darting everywhere, until she notices Minjeong’s hand between her thighs again, fingers curling into her hole once more. Almost instinctively, Yizhuo’s masturbating as well, something that doesn’t escape Minjeong’s notice.
“T-Then what, Minjeongie?”
“Then… Then…” Minjeong gasps, biting her lips, closing her eyes tightly in pleasure. “Then we strip down to our panties, and grind on your desk. I… We can watch each other, just like… just like this, just like now.”
The filthy words drive Yizhuo insane once again. With a loud moan, she penetrates herself with her fingers, grinding on her own clit with the heel of her palm. She sees, hears Minjeong doing the same, and they shift closer to each other on the bed, fascinated by each other now, laptop long forgotten.
“I-Is that a yes?” Minjeong’s voice is small, unsure, but still so sexy.
Yizhuo’s insane.
“Yes. Let’s… let’s do it.” The Chinese girl breathes, a whine caught in her throat when she presses against her G-spot. “Let’s do it together.”
“Mmh. Together.”
With both girls still sensitive from earlier, it doesn’t take much for them to get close to a second orgasm already. Minjeong’s grinding down on her own hand again, softly moaning every time she thrusts her fingers into herself, and Yizhuo’s hungry eyes devour the erotic sight in front of her. The very same hunger burns behind Minjeong’s eyes as well—they rake over Yizhuo’s sensual curves, over the swell of her breasts and the dark brown nubs atop the flesh, taut with arousal, across her tight tummy that she loves to show off in cute crop tops, along her long legs, her meaty thighs, and right at her core now, where Yizhuo has two fingers plunging into herself, slick dripping all over her thighs and leaking onto the bed sheet, tingles spreading across her skin when Minjeong’s eyes meet hers. Their foreheads touch now, hot breaths all over each other’s lips, moaning into each other’s mouths.
“You’re so hot, Ningie…”
Minjeong’s deep, sexy voice has Yizhuo leaking more slick between the gaps of her fingers. She’s already so close, so dangerously close to her second peak, and Minjeong is driving her crazier and crazier with every word.
“I… I love watching you masturbate. It makes me so fucking wet…”
The broken moan Yizhuo releases is sinful. Before she can even finish processing the ramifications of Minjeong’s sentences, she’s already speaking again.
“A-Am I hot, Ningie? Do you… Do you love watching me touch myself too?”
“Yes, yes I do, you’re so hot, so fucking hot, Minjeongie, I—” The words tumble out of the Chinese girl’s mouth uncontrollably. The pure honesty is just what Minjeong wants to hear, and the beaming grin on her face depicts her joy amidst her arousal.
“Good, then… then keep looking at me, keep watching me.” The Korean girl takes a short pause, biting her lip as she deliberates over her next sentence, and then she spits it out anyway, her voice shaking with uncertainty. “Keep watching me until… until we… we cum together.”
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, oh, Minjeongie, f—!”
Minjeong’s words go straight down between Yizhuo’s legs, and she tries to tear away her fingers from herself. However, she’s too far gone now, with Minjeong having pushed her over the edge with that final sentence. Yizhuo never finishes her exclamation—it ends with a broken cry instead. She freezes as stars explode across her vision, and a loud scream rips through her throat as her hips buck, the tension all over her body finally snapping. With every jerk of her body, streams of Yizhuo’s juices gush out from her pussy, streaks of wetness staining her sheets as she rubs circles on her clit in an attempt to prolong the pleasure of her orgasm. Spray after spray of her cum soaks the cloth beneath her, the cathartic release she so craves finally upon her as she goes through her climax. The world around her melts away in pleasure—but in that haze, Yizhuo realizes the one thing she can’t tear herself from: Minjeong. Minjeong’s body, Minjeong’s voice, Minjeong’s words, Minjeong’s features—all of them blend together as one, the only thing Yizhuo can focus on now. The moan of Minjeong’s name that leaves Yizhuo’s lips is involuntary, uncontrolled. Yizhuo repeats it like a mantra—it’s how she tethers herself to the real world as she rides through her high.
Minjeong doesn’t last a second longer after Yizhuo. The sight of her best friend orgasming is what pushes her over the edge—Minjeong watches as Yizhuo’s hips buck, the first spray of her cum gushing from between her fingers to drench the sheets, and she sees her best friend fall to the pleasure. Immediately, she’s following suit—her scream dies in her throat, body writhing as she rolls onto her back, hips jerking with every burst of orgasmic pleasure that pulses across her body from her core. Dimly, Minjeong feels her cum drench her fingers, stream after stream of it leaking down her index and pinky fingers as she thrusts her middle and ring fingers over and over into herself to prolong her pleasure. Every brush of her clit with the heel of her palm draws more and more squirt out of her, her cum pooling between her thighs and staining the sheets beneath her as well. Both girls enjoy their orgasms next to each other, lost in the pleasure yet still so aware of the person right next to them.
Eventually, both girls do come down from their highs. Yizhuo and Minjeong lie next to each other, panting in exhaustion, minds on overdrive thinking about the other. Yizhuo swears she’s hypersensitive right now—she feels the heat rolling off Minjeong in waves, she senses every dip in the bed as Minjeong shifts, and when Minjeong’s hand brushes against her skin, hot flashes of arousal and want rush all over her again.
“Thank you, Ningie.”
Yizhuo feels the soft press of Minjeong’s lips on her cheek—
Minjeong just kissed me.
An explosion occurs in Yizhuo’s chest. Minjeong has never kissed her before. Ever. Yet now, she just does it after a mutual self-love session, as if it were nothing. What the f—?!
“Oi, Ningie, are you listening?” Somehow, Minjeong is already up and about, tugging at Yizhuo’s sheets.
“Huh—?”
“I said we gotta change the sheets! We… um, I… we made messes just now… Sorry.”
Somehow, Yizhuo finds it in her to shelve her thoughts for later. Both girls change the sheets and go for a shower, which remains chaste, as much as Yizhuo doesn’t want it to be, her ruined mind replaying instance after instance of her session with Minjeong, her body still wracked with arousal long after, even when she gets into bed.
“Goodnight, Ningie.”
“Goodnight, Minjeongie.”
Yizhuo doesn’t get any sleep that night.
#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction#kpop smut#aespa smut#winter smut#ningning smut#aespa winter smut#aespa ningning smut#smut
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can you do paige being jelly of you and kks rls (you and kk are just friends but paige claims “yall r too close”)
⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡.｡.:*✧ focus on me,,
paige bueckers x fem!reader
2 WEEKS AGO:
paige was just getting back from personal training, walking through the team’s dorm door and letting her shoes slide off her feet. she didn’t see anyone, but she heard the sound of kk’s screaming laughter. paige figured she needed to relax a bit, so she went to drop her bags off in her room and then go see what kk was up to.
as she walked closer to her teammates door, she heard the sweet sound of your voice. in any other situation it would’ve soothed paige, but here—coming from kk’s room, it didn’t.
your girlfriend pushed the door open gently, a light frown on her face upon observing you and kk. the two of you were laying on kk’s bed, phone screen in front of you both.
“hey guys.” your giggles ceased and your head turned, only to be greeted with paige’s unamused expression.
“oh! hi baby,”
“i thought you said you were working today?” you’re sitting straight now, looking up at paige from your position next to kk. your friend stays silent, pushing her hand over the phone’s microphone to muffle your conversation. she could sense the tension coming from paige and wasn’t really sure where this was going.
“they let me off early, really slow day.” you explain to your girlfriend, slightly shocked at the way she’s acting. you didn’t think on it too much though, assuming she was just fatigued.
“why didn’t you tell me?”
“you were busy paige.”
it aggravates paige that you didn’t tell her, instead opting to spend your rare free time with kk. and paige wouldn’t say it out loud, but she was also jealous that you and kk went live without her. everyone said that the three of you were a trio.
“you guys went live without me?”
“it’s not a big deal, babe. we do all the time.”
6 DAYS AGO:
the team was on a ‘recreational team bonding field trip’ and everyone insisted you join, especially kk. you and the freshman had grown quite fond of each other, feeding off the other’s energy and enthusiasm. you were definitely the lives of the party.
you had been spending a lot of time with kk actually, which was starting to get to paige. she’d suggest a fun activity for the two of you to do, and you were always saying “kk should come too!”
paige really enjoyed having you here today, loving and admiring the way you fit in so perfectly with all her friends. even on the way here you were cracking jokes and making everyone laugh. she was thankful to have you, grateful for how receptive everyone is to having you around.
everyone had been hiking up the mountain for about an hour and a half, finally making it to the top. you rejoiced, high-fiving everyone around you. you motivated everyone undoubtedly. it made paige want to kiss you and she was about to— until kk jogged up to the two of you and pulled you away.
it was time to take the zip line down to the bottom of the mountain, something everyone was excited about (really their only good reason to come). everyone needed to pick a partner and paige didn’t even think twice about knowing you were hers. you were her girlfriend for christsake, she didn’t need to call dibs on you.
apparently she did though, cause kk claimed you as her partner instead. what upset paige the most was that you didn’t even say no. never saying “i want to be paige’s partner.”
that’s how paige ended up with nika, the two of them going last.
“if looks could kill..”
“what?” nika’s words drew paige out of her daydream, grounding her back in this moment she wishes wasn’t even happening.
“i saw the look you gave kk. why didn’t you say something?”
it was a good question really. why didn’t she?
suddenly paige remembers your and kk’s shared screams of joy going down the zip line. she remembers the way kk interlocked your hands and threw them up in the air like she was on a rollercoaster. like kk was your girlfriend.
“doesn’t matter. my girlfriend seemed to enjoy herself with another girl.”
“oh paige, don’t be like that. that’s just how kk is.”
when nika and paige made it to the bottom of the zip line it felt like five years had passed. you and kk had been the first to go, and paige had to wait ten minutes for everyone else to be done. upon making it back to ground, paige noticed ashlynn taking a picture of you and kk.
kk’s arm was around your shoulders as she leaned into you, a big stupid grin on her face. you were smiling too, not minding kk’s close proximity.
after being unclipped from the line paige walked towards you, trying to let her frustrations drain away so she could just enjoy the day.
“baby,”
“hold on- what kk?”
2 DAYS AGO:
the team had been back from practice for a few hours now, everyone just relaxing and doing their own thing. paige really wanted to take this reprieve to spend alone time with you, becoming increasingly aware that you hardly ever got a moment to yourselves.
but of course, her plans changed when kk asked to play video games with you at your apartment. you said yes, now sitting on your couch with kk playing COD while paige sulked in another room. you hadn’t realized she was sulking, just thinking she was tired and went to take a nap.
about an hour into playing, your girlfriend came padding out of your bedroom and into the living area. you were too distracted and paige was too childish, quickly unplugging the power cord to the TV without either you or kk noticing.
“NOOOO!”
“WHAT HAPPENED??”
“bro your tv is broken,”
“you probably broke it-“
paige’s voice cut through the air like a knife, bringing both you and kk back into reality. you’re both staring at her wide-eyed with mouths agape.
“well, looks like you gotta go home kk, playing video games there.” paige is fake shrugging like she too is disappointed in the circumstances. you’re squinting and suspecting of her tone but it quickly vanishes.
“TRUE, we can go to the dorms and play girl boo!”
paige’s shoulders shrink, watching as you gather your shoes and keys. her plan backfired on her almost instantly.
“maybe we can just stay here babe? i can help you fix the tv,”
“i’ll fix it later p. you comin?”
CURRENT DAY:
paige was beyond excited. was.
she had gone out of her way to plan a nice dinner for you, trying to cook up something nice. she had even printed out a recipe and followed it step-by-step. she went to the store to get you flowers, bought a new dvd to add to your collection, and even wrote you a little love letter.
you told her you’d be getting off by 5:30. it was now 6:43. she was certain the food was cold and stale by now, not worth eating. she had to blow out the candles she lit at the table because the wax started dripping onto the wooden surface. paige was almost finished with her homemade cocktails she learned how to make just for tonight when you walked through the door. finally.
“hey baby!” you hadn’t looked up yet, kicking off your shoes and shrugging your jacket down your shoulders.
“where’ve you been?”
you finally looked up, letting your surroundings sink in along with the instant guilt. you had no idea she was planning anything.
“i was doing this thing with kk-“
at the mention of her friend’s name again paige aggressively pushed her drink away and stormed off. you stood there dumbfounded for a second before quickly following behind her, having to jog to keep up with her pace.
“paige? what’s wrong?”
“what’s wrong?! i think if you mention kk one more time im going to lose my mind. all you do is hang out with her. like i’m not even here. y’know, i planned this whole night because i wanted to spend quality time with you. but instead of wanting to come home to me, you go to kk?!”
“paige i didn’t know you-“
“and y’know what?! i’m tired of you prioritizing her. i’m your girlfriend. not kk. me! you’re too close with her..” she’s silent for a moment and you let her words linger in the air. “jus want you to focus on me.”
her head is hung low and saying it out loud almost makes her feel selfish. but you understand her, you consider her words and realize she’s right.
you have been spending a lot of time with kk. and in turn, you sacrificed precious time with paige to do so. it crushes you now that you know, and you suddenly wish you could go back and time. a few stray tears roll down your girlfriend’s face, landing on her favorite button up. she picked it for this special occasion. just for you.
you peak your head out to the kitchen, soaking in the decorations and the ghost of paige’s effort to make this night amazing for you. a frown settles deep on your features when you realize you’re ruining this night for her.
“paige, i love you so much. unbelievably so. i’m so sorry, please let me make it up to you while we enjoy the meal you made.” you’re almost pleading with her, wiping her few tears away and cradling her fragility. she nods, a weak smile adorning her face as she looks at you.
the dinner had been amazing and paige swears you told her that about a million different times. she liked it though. your reassurance and affirmations let her know that you cared about her more than anything else.
“i love you paigey.”
“not kk?”
“not kk.”
“good, i love you too”
“wait- you were just jealous-“
“shut up.”
┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚ °. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄
YALLLLLLL
idk 😋
#paige buckets#paige bueckers#uconn wbb#paige bueckers smut#paige bueckers x reader#uconn huskies#uconn women’s basketball
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oh em GEEEE IMAGINE GAMER BF SUKUNA WANTING TO PLAY MINECRAFT W YOU BUT HES STUBBORN SO HE DOESNT ADMIT IT BUT YOU CATCH HIM PLAYING BY HIMSELF ON HIS OWN PC AND YOU TEASE HIM SAYING HE COULDVE JUST ASKED 💔💔💔💔💔
gamer!bf sukuna fluff—sfw !! cw: language. smau + blurb
with a quick kiss on your forehead, sukuna informs you he’s running competitive games on COD for a cash prize and emphasizes that he needs you to leave him alone so he can focus. god, he can be such a diva.
you’ve been curled up on the couch for an hour or so, aimlessly scrolling through your phone. sukuna is holed up in the office, most likely talking shit and being a menace online.
a brief yell echoes through your apartment, followed by a quick slam of his fists against his desk.
“im done with this shit,” he exclaims, most likely quitting the game he was in. it seems he didn’t win his competition.
you giggle to yourself, shaking your head. you find it amusing how angry he gets during his games. but, you do feel a bit bad that he lost, so you decide to invite him to a voice call on discord.
as you navigate to your private chat with him, you watch as his status changes from “playing COD” to…wait. that can’t be right…minecraft? no way. that’s impossible.
you give it 30 minutes to see if it was just an accidental click. when you check back, his status remains the same.
you smirk as you open up your messages, eager to see if he’ll confess.
you giggle to yourself as you stand from the couch, taking quick steps down the hall.
as you push open the office door, a cheeky grin can’t help but pull at your cheeks as you approach him.
you join him at the desk, taking a seat in front of your monitor. “you’re so stubborn, ya know that?”
“i told you not to speak of this ever again,” he muttered, aimlessly walking around minecraft as he waits for your computer to boot up.
“lemme just hear you say it,” you tease.
“say what?” he asks, turning to face you, a look of annoyance on his face at your adamance to continue this conversation.
“you like minecraft,” you replied simply, raising your eyebrows. “just admit it and i’ll never say another word.”
he stared at your for a minute, his jaw clenching and unclenching. with a heavy sigh, he turns back to his monitor, grumbling an almost inaudible, “i like minecraft,” with a roll of his eyes.
but it’s a lie. a dirty little secret. he doesn’t just like it, he loves it. he especially loves how happy you get when the two of you play together, as much as he tries to deny it.
the two of you spend the next three hours running around minecraft. sukuna is clearly enjoying himself, though you can tell he’s attempting to hide it with an abrupt clear of his throat or a quick cough to cover up his laughter.
a warm feeling spins around your stomach, giggling as you watch him fight back a persistent smile the entire time.
an: thank you for your request my sweet anon. this was adorable.
i really want to start doing smau’s ugh they’re just so cute and fun to make. i have a full-length fic coming up that incorporates them into the story!! this is my way of experimenting w that format…please let me know what you think! in a way, i feel like it makes the story more real.
thank you for all your support 🥺🫶🏼 i wanna give every single one of yall a big ole smooch on the forehead
my asks are always open. don’t be shy, drop a suggestion, send feedback, leave a request, or just come say hello! i love talking to yall 💛
likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated !!
bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.
#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen writing#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#jjk x you#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna fluff#jjk smau#smau#sukuna smau#jjksmau#jjk fake texts#jjk texts#jjk fluff#jjk smut#gamer!bf sukuna#bratbby333#anon✨
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Donut: The Hole Story
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader
Word Count: 969
Summary: When you stop at your favorite donut shop to grab some sweets on the way home from work they only have one left of your favorite flavor so you do what any other person would do...even though it's your husband's favorite too.
Author's Note: This is just because. We recently got some donuts from one of my favorite shops nearby and I just love writing about our fave guys with sweet things! If you wanna to check out the donut place you can find their website HERE. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤���❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰
Warnings: fluffy sweetness and fun
*All text messages in italics*
You: I’m on my way home Buck! Going to stop at the bakery, I want something sweet 🥰
Bucky: Ok doll face. And I got somethin’ sweet waiting for ya at home 😉😏
You: I know and I definitely want some…but I also want a Dough donut 🍩I’ve been craving it all day 😁
Bucky: Want me to come and get you on my bike? I can leave now and I’ll take you right to Dough❤️
You: I’m already half way there but I hate to miss a ride with you…take me after we have dinner and donuts? 😍
Bucky: Of course doll, be careful, love you❤️
You: I will love you too, see you soon!❤️
Bucky: AND DONUTS!🍩
You: YAY DONUTS!🍩
Before you even get the door of your apartment open Bucky does it for you, filling the frame with his broad shoulders and even broader smile.
Your greeting is cut off when he grabs you around the waist, tugs you inside, shuts the door- all in one smooth and quick motion- and presses you against it, his body caging you in while his lips cover yours.
“Mm you taste extra sweet,” he murmurs when he pulls away to let you breathe.
“Hi Buck,” you giggle.
He kisses you again, cradling your cheek in his hand and softly grazing just under your eye with the sweep of his thumb.
“Really sweet…” he whispers against your lips.
“Wait a second…” he mutters.
He kisses you again.
“Did you…?”
And another kiss.
“You ate one already didn’t you?!” he grumbles.
He pulls back with wide blue eyes, his mouth hanging open to match.
“Ate one what?” you ask, feigning perfect innocence with a bat of your lashes.
His mouth chases yours and his body keeps you pressed to the door.
“A TOASTED COCONUT TOO!”
“BUCKY!”
“IS THERE ANOTHER?” he asks with an accusatory tone as he frantically pats you down.
“Do you think I’m hiding the donuts in my clothes?” you laugh with a raised brow. “Or are you just trying to cop a feel?”
“I’m always trying to cop a feel,” he winks before his expression morphs back into suspicion.
You bend down and grab the box you unceremoniously dropped to the floor when he pulled you into the apartment.
He takes it from your hand and narrows his eyes, holding the box covetously close to his chest.
With one more kiss to your lips he rushes off to the counter and rips open the top of the box. He stares at the full box of twelve donuts for several seconds before meeting your eyes.
You walk over and wrap your arms around his waist from behind.
“See? A full box of donuts!”
“But…” he starts, grabbing your arm and pulling you under his to bring you around to face him so he can kiss you again. “There’s not toasted coconut!”
You shrug with nonchalance and smile sweetly. “They were all out. It is the end of the day so…”
He studies your face and tightens his grip on your waist.
“No they weren’t. There was one left and you ate it on the way home!”
Your shoulders lift to meet your ears in another act of indifference and you try to turn in his arms so you can grab a donut.
“No,” you answer. “I wouldn’t do that. But I’d like one now.”
You manage to wiggle your way around and look down at the donuts, tapping your cheek as you try to decide on which one to eat first.
Just as your hand reaches out for a blueberry lemon the top of the box shuts.
“BUCK!” you squeak. “What the heck!?”
He pushes the box to the other side of the counter and in another smooth move that’s too fast for you to fight he has you turned around and seated atop the surface, trapped by his body.
You cross your arms over your chest.
“Can I eat my donut please?” you huff.
“Not until you admit you ate the one toasted coconut left on the way home,” he counters with a smirk.
You lift your chin defiantly but you don’t answer.
“I knew it!” he shouts. “I can’t believe you ate it without waiting to share with me!”
You try and scooch off the counter so you can eat another donut but he doesn’t let you move.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he simpers.
“I want a donut.”
“You already had one doll.”
Your lips press together and you scowl.
“I can’t believe you’re denying me donuts Buck!”
“I just wanna hear you say it doll.”
“And if I don’t?” you challenge.
“No donuts.”
“You wouldn’t!”
He waggles his eyebrows. “Try me baby doll.”
You grunt and punch him in the chest.
He just smiles.
“I can’t believe you Barnes!”
He doesn’t budge and just stares with a triumphant grin.
You stare right back and slowly your lips curl into a smirk as an idea forms in your head. Without another word you press your chest to his and wrap your legs around his waist, gently rocking your hips. Your arms circle his neck and you run your fingers through his hair.
His fingers dig into your skin before slipping under your shirt and slowly inching higher.
Your fingers slide from his hair and down over his shoulders then bunch into his shirt to tug his lips closer.
“A distraction?” he hums. “Really?”
“I don’t see you trying to stop me,” you whisper.
Your fingertips dance lower, tracing the waistband of his jeans.
“No,” he murmurs. “Why would I ever want to do that?”
“And I’ll just have my donut after I have you.”
“That’s what you think,” he says right before kissing you, easily distracting you with his hands, lips and everything that's him.
@hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @lizette50 @goldylions @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989 @buckysdollforlife
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky x reader#bucky barnes imagine#sebastian stan#donuts
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My notes from the 92NY Q&A
Someone from Mayfair Witches is in IWTV S2 and Mayfair S2
Ben Daniels sent a thank-you letter to Rollin Jones re: working with such a beautiful cast and lovely project (and called himself Santi-baby in it). Jacob did his best Ben impression and read the email aloud to us.
The two actors Rolin KNEW they wanted from the beginning were Eric and Ben Daniels, before they even started casting
Jacob refused to pit Loumand and Loustat against each other. Said they have different vibes
Sam insists that we won't see "the real Lestat" until S3. We're only seeing everyone else's perception of him (very tongue-in-cheek). In response, Assad said, "Armand has a very good memory. Maybe the most accurate!"
Jacob said filming the Dreamstat scenes with Sam was like slipping on a glove, or an old sock (cue slightly inappropriate giggles from audience)
Delainey said her chemistry read with Jacob felt like everyone else in the room just faded away, and she bonded with him first on set
Lestat plays Harlequin instead of Lelio this season, and the moderator was so affected by Sam's performance that he said "I got pregnant after watching it." Rollin said it was "moves like Jagger" on that theater stage lol. Sam had trouble reconciling this part but he did have fun
Any time Jacob gets complimented, he tries to brush it off. He's so humble!
Delainey said Claudia knows Louis better than he knows himself, and Jacob* thinks he knows her but he doesn't
Eric said that Daniel's impression of Dubai situation is he's just sick of the lies and games from Loumand. He won't be intimidated, and if you push, he pushes back harder. He will not be bullied (much like himself, he added)
Lots of hype for ep5 of this season. Eric said it was the most traumatizing episode he's seen in his life. Everyone else agrees that it gets pretty heavy re: young Daniel's interview
Eric said "working with Jacob is like flying" and Jacob said "the feeling is entirely mutual" - so sweet!
Assad was so preciously nervous bc he admittedly still gets intimidated by the cast. He was struggling to finish his thoughts. He did praise how open and loving the whole cast and crew are. It was cute.
"When Louis meets Armand, Armand is kind of lost but putting on this facade of power that Louis sees through" (Assad's words)
Question: any fun moments off set that still make you laugh? Response: Sam and Jacob look at each other and just burst into laughter. They really struggled to find an answer that they felt was appropriate to share and barely answered it 😅
Q: What series would your character binge?
Everyone answered as their character:
Armand: Buffy
Daniel: Breaking Bad
Claudia: The OA
Lestat: The Real Housewives
Louis: The Real Housewives ("YOU LITERALLY TOOK MY ANSWER" to Sam)
This doesn't even cover the encounters I saw at the stage door. I'll do a separate post for that, maybe
#iwtv#interview with the vampire#amc iwtv#vampterview#I'M ON CLOUD NINE#just looking at my selfie with Jacob and giggling#iwtv spoilers#totally forgot to add that tag last night..... or to put this all under a read more i was just too excited to share!!
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Lease
best-friend!roommate!reader x Steve Rogers
*This was a totally random and spontaneous idea. Not edited. Light language (so we can get *the joke*), pining, light angst, hurt/comfort, and fluff. This work is for all ages! WC ~2k
Sam Wilson introduces you. Both your parents were veterans and active at the VA, so you practically grew up there.
At first, you’re reserved, a little formal, but very nice. Oddly enough, Steve just likes that you don’t hound him with questions about his military service and how it was different based on the decade, etc. You are just…around to listen.
He finds himself filling any (comfortable) silence between you with stories. Stupid things. Things that don’t have to do with the VA or his past or even his present, which is entirely work as Captain America.
Steve gets to a point where he is itching to live off of Avengers Campus, but he doesn’t want to live alone.
One day he finds you hunched over a laptop and grumbling, “why is everything so fucking expensive?”
A sentiment which, of course, he frowns at.
“Sorry,” you shrug, a look of sincere apology on your distraught face. “I didn’t realize it, but apparently, I’m poor with my measly three-thousand-dollar-a-month budget for an apartment. Now I have to find a roommate, and—“ you start wagging a finger at him sarcastically “—I don’t know if you’ve noticed there’re some real weirdos out there. It’ll take me longer to find a safe, stable roomie than it takes to—“
“I can move in with you.”
Steve almost gasps at how fast the words fly out of his mouth.
“Well, not ‘move in’ to your current place. I mean. I can—I would be willing to live with you. Sorry! That sounds bad. You’re not bad. I meant…you know, anytime you want to chime in and stop me would be helpful.”
You remain silent and smirking.
“Right. Okay. So…think about it? Or not, that’s fine.”
“Let’s talk figures, Rogers. The square-footage just doubled, and I need to rework the budget.”
Moving in is shockingly uneventful. You’re easy to get along with, when not suddenly up on your high horse about something, and Steve is easy to get along with under the same circumstances. You push his militant rigidity to the brink on purpose, but never too far.
Things sit out in the wrong place, but it’s never dirty. Stuff doesn’t always get returned promptly, but if he asks, you’re on it.
There are two bathrooms, thank mercy.
He has random and odd hours. You work nine to five, mostly. It’s the perfect level of independence without loneliness for Steve.
Sam and Natasha stop by regularly or ask you both out for drinks or to fun, new places.
One time, when Nat is ribbing Steve to go talk to a cute girl ordering at the bar, he panics and takes your hand in his on the tabletop.
“How can I do that when my date is right here?” he grits playfully through his pearly white teeth. “Leave it alone.”
Each word is punctuated by a shift forward and a slight tilt of his head.
Natasha is unamused and instantly grabs your other hand (which was holding your drink) to pull you toward the dance floor.
It’s awkward for multiple reasons. You’d pay a whole month’s rent to know what Sam and Steve talked about after you left.
Sam takes a different approach, luring—or attempting to lure—Steve into setting up just one dating profile online.
“You don’t have to put photos,” Sam assures, “and you can stick with your first name only. I swear to you, man, this’ll be good for you. Get you out there more. Help me out here, Tagalong!”
He turns to you for support. To be fair, you did quite literally tag along with your parents for years to the VA, and it stuck. Why it sticks as a grown-ass adult? You’ll never know. You just don’t mind Sam Wilson saying it because he means well and never uses it in public.
“Uh, nooooo.”
Sam’s face falls. “What?”
You look at Steve and grimace, clicking your tongue. “He’s not ready for that,” you conclude.
Steve jumps out of the chair, arms wide with victory.
“THAT’S WHAT I’VE BEEN SAYING!”
“I know you told her to say that,” Sam shouts back.
“Did not,” Steve barks.
“He did not.” You lean against your bedroom doorframe. “I just think it’s obvious.”
That makes Steve deflate a little. “Wait, but…I’m not that bad.”
“Oh gosh,” you fake with a huge smile, “look at the time! Gotta be off to bed…”
The men keep fighting albeit muffled from your side of the wall. The only part you can make out before giving them privacy is Sam, whining, “but you actually like bubble baths and walks on the beach, dude. You’re gonna be money on there.”
“Hey, why do you not, ya know, date?”
You look up from your breakfast, stunned because that came out of nowhere. You’ve lived together over six months now, and Steve hasn’t asked for one iota of personal—well, romantically personal—information.
Twiddling your fork around, you think.
“I always imagine what my parents would think of him, any guy I’ve ever considered being with longterm, and…I was just never proud to say ‘here, here’s the one,’ I guess.”
Your parents have been gone for years. You value their opinion anyway.
“Mhm,” Steve hums, “the one?”
You take a bite of food, straightening your back, tossing a dismissive hand in the air. “Yeah, if you believe in that sort of thing.”
He’s quiet for a while.
“So you’re waiting for the right partner?” Steve finally mutters, and he watches your noncommittal gesturing intently.
That was a ‘yes.’
Natasha knows. Sam knows. Steve suspects but won’t admit to anything. You are kind and unreadable.
You’ve always been kind, so there’s no discernible difference to signal you have feelings for him in return. He can’t bring himself to be anything less than a gentleman at home and makes absolutely no moves to find out.
He stays out in the living room a lot more, all hours, hoping you’ll mention staying in for a movie, praying you’ll be tired enough to fall asleep on his lap on the couch.
He’s in way too deep.
What Steve suspects is that it would be too awkward to start anything while living together, but he doesn’t want to leave you in the lurch for rent or a roommate. He also desperately doesn’t want to move out. The status quo is comfortable.
He loves being comfortable with you.
The stress of not telling you, while needing to make some sort of arrangements should telling you blow up in his face, starts to wear on him.
Steve is a pro at compartmentalizing his life, so it’s when he’s stuck at the apartment without any missions, a handful of meetings, and a team that all have lives for two long months that he cracks…in the least attractive way.
He’s messed up his sleep schedule with worry and playing innocent, and out of the not-so-blue, a horrible, vivid nightmare hits him. Steve isn’t even on the mattress anymore by the time he figures out there wasn’t carpet like this in Germany and the desk chair he grips is not a motorcycle.
“Rogers,” he hears. “Rogers, can you look at me?”
The dark room is somehow hollow and stifling all at once. His head turns slower than his brain tells it to.
Steve blinks.
“Do you know where you are?”
“Hey, sweets,” he husks from a dry throat. “What…”
“Can you tell me where this is?” You step closer and pry one of his hands off the mesh to cradle in yours. “Where are we, Rogers?”
“Home.” He swallows. “Our home.”
Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, but you nod like he’s done well.
“Okay, Steve, I’m going to get you some water. If you want—“ your fingers smooth over the back of his hand, nudging the other to release the chair “—you can sit on the bed.”
You don’t leave. You don’t even get up from the floor.
He doesn’t notice he’s clutching your hands, shaking slightly until long seconds go by.
“Yeah. Okay.” Steve lets go, otherwise unmoving, contemplating how he ever thought the semi-rough industrial carpet felt the same as mud.
You carefully hand him the water and rub his back, using your nails to trace invisible patterns. He can’t remember what he was so scared of a minute ago. He only knows he’s sweating that empty kind of confused.
“What’s that supposed to do?” he asks absently.
You shrug. “Eh. Back scratches just feel good.”
Steve’s mind remains blank as he sips his water.
: We need to renew the lease soon. Like this week.
Steve has stalled as long as humanly possible; he is officially not being a gentleman now. He is a coward.
: Talk about it when I get home?
: Could you at least tell me if this is a hard NO on staying here or just some concerns/questions?
: I don’t get why you’re being like this.
Steve gets it, but he hates it.
: I’ll be back tonight. Should I pick up food?
: ffs
: Fine. Whatever you want.
Steve also hates when you’re mad at him…which has been happening more and more.
He’s been distant, he refuses to let Sam or Nat come around for fear they’ll play match-maker and ruin the whole thing, and he is about to ruin the whole thing anyway.
Because he is not smooth. Because he is not prepared. Because he’s built up this perfect and amazing, sweep-you-off-your-feet moment.
And he bungles it.
“Out with it,” you command, haughtily yanking your portion of food from the countertop beside him, heading for the dinette.
“I want to be with you,” he blurts.
“Thank god,” you sigh, settling in your spot. “So we’ll go down to the office and sign in the morning. I don’t want there to be an issue if you’re off to wherever for who-the-hell-knows how long on the date the thing expires.”
“No, I…” but Steve’s voice is too quiet.
“There’s only a tiny window where they’re open before I have to head to work, so let me physically sign first, right? Then I gotta go.”
“Sure,” he slurs.
“Steve?” You turn to see him staring down at his food. He’s still across the room. “Are you okay?”
“I said I—I meant that—“ he huffs out his breath and taps his fist on the counter “—I meant that I’m an idiot,” he finishes softly.
Approaching with that beautiful, open-hearted kindness that haunts his days and soothes his night, you cross to him, scratching his back just the way he’s grown to crave.
“Think you might be hangry,” you chuckle.
He cannot do this. Steve is hanging on by a thread until the graze of your hand slides down his forearm to take his plate, and he spins.
He’s thought about kissing you so many times, he mapped out the angles he’d have to hold himself at, how far he needs to lean to get to you, the care to take wrangling in his strength and sheer excitement.
Steve Rogers is good at planning, at least, this part.
Gentle pecks of his plush lips to yours leave gaps in contact that let you whimper, and he fears you stopping him. He presses, wrapping his arms around you and molding your bodies together. The linoleum of the kitchen floor makes sticky sounds beneath your shuffling feet, squeaking once you hit the adjacent wall.
The force of that knocks your frozen arms into his chest, and painfully, Steve relents to step away, but not far. He bites his bottom lip and tastes the balm from yours, his head tilted in shame but fiery eyes watching you from beneath long lashes.
“Oh,” you breathe out. “Oh…you meant…”
Steve’s tongue darts out hungrily.
“Yeah.”
[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]
They're soooo cute!!!!!!
#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers fic#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers one shot#steve rogers x female reader#captain america fanfiction#captain america x reader#captain america x you#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#hurt/comfort
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Hi !! I love your writing! I think you've nailed the twst characters personalities really nicely <33
So if possible, I'd like to have some hcs Sebek, Ruggie, Jack, Jamil and Deuce would realize that they have a crush on the reader (in which the reader is basically their closest friend atp) and how'd they'd react to it. Would they be the type to shove it back down or get it over with? Something else entirely, maybe??
Hope this isn't too much. Thank you in advance! Take all the time you need!
hii first off thank you so much!! <3 and ofc ofc I LOVE pining (and friends to lovers?!)
pomefiore part
summary: how they would have a crush on you
type of post: headcanons
characters: deuce, jack, ruggie, jamil, sebek
additional info: romantic, reader isn't specified to be yuu except in sebek's part because I found it funny, reader is gender neutral, deuce is a cutie patootie
𝐃𝐞𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐝𝐞
oh, he is in utter turmoil about this
on one hand: he really, really likes you
you're such a wonderful person
the kind of partner he'd be proud to introduce to his mom
on the other hand...
he really, really doesn't want to mess this up
you already have such a great thing going on as friends!
if he ruined that, he would literally never forgive himself
and Ace would make fun of him for it until the very end of time itself
so, of course he just sits on these feelings. maybe if he focuses on something else, they'll go away?
spoiler alert: they do not
they definitely do not
if anything, trying to ignore them just makes it worse for him; suddenly he's becoming an entirely different person around you
it's like a switch is flipped the second you're in the room
he becomes clumsy, easily flustered, can barely string a sentence together
Ace gives him hell about it, of course
and when there's no hope of hiding it any longer, he just confesses
(not that it wasn't obvious already... but for his sake, you'll have to pretend like it's shocking news)
𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐥
he's actually... pretty upfront about it?
once he's got his feelings on the matter sorted, anyway
...which takes him a few weeks
when he first recognizes his crush on you, he pours himself into his training
not as a distraction, really; he just finds it easier to think when he's working out
he really does want to think this one through
much like Deuce, Jack understands that he'd put the friendship at risk if he were to confess
unlike Deuce, however, he's somewhat aware that ignoring and hiding is a coward's way out, and will only push you away
so, once he's very sure about his feelings, he confesses
it's not exactly like a confession, though
more of a... lecture?
just informs you that he's developed feelings, doesn't want them to affect the friendship, and leaves the decision up to you
won't freak if you don't reciprocate, but... he might be a little bummed out
okay... more than a little
𝐑𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐡𝐢
first thought: he doesn't have time for this
Ruggie has a job, school, and a whole neighborhood to feed back home
now a partner? no, that's completely out of the question
besides, it's not like you'd ever reciprocate. who'd wanna spend every date eating dandelion salad?
no one, that's who
of course he doesn't bother asking, but he assumes that goes without saying
but he's busy enough to put those feelings on the back burner and deal with them some other day
...if only he wasn't so distracted by thoughts of you, that plan might have worked!
by his third slip-up, Leona's had enough and demands he's gotta sort out whatever's bothering him if he ever wants to show his face there again
(he might've been in a bad mood)
but, unfortunately, Ruggie knows he's right
it's better to be rejected now than to spend the rest of his school days mulling over it
so, he just spills the beans, as plain and simple as possible
tries to walk away as soon as he's done so he doesn't have to see the look on your face
you can imagine his surprise when you pull him back
𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥 𝐕𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫
actually has a pretty similar reaction to Ruggie
Jamil can't possibly fathom having a partner in a world where he doesn't even have his own freedom
in a sense, he just doesn't want to drag you into his life
in another, more important sense, he would be devastated if you rejected him
so he just... ignores it
of course, Jamil knows that pretending the feelings aren't there won't do much, but he doesn't really have a lot of options
he's not one to talk through his feelings, after all
not that anyone asks...
and his ability to interact with you as if nothing is different is astonishing
even if it feels like he's melting inside
though, you may catch him smiling more at you these days
he just can't help himself
when he's got his other stuff sorted, you'll be next on the agenda
𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐤 𝐙𝐢𝐠𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐭
you claim to have no magic, and yet you bewitch him into caring about you just as much as his liege?!
well... maybe not as much...
but close! very close!
even admitting that to himself feels like high treason
nonetheless, you have to be something very special to distract him from what he calls his "true purpose in life"
he sees you and feels... ill?
he's light-headed, he's dizzy, his stomach feels funny...
and he's been thinking about you more so than usual
yes, you're friends... he'll even admit he's grown quite fond of you in comparison to the other people you call "friends"
but this is... unusual
surely, you've placed some kind of curse on him!
Silver is the first to hear about it
poor boy is too tired to deal, and so he passes on the problem to Lilia
who just chuckles and makes a lot of odd references and metaphors that no one of this century would understand
no, Sebek has to come to the conclusion that he likes you all on his own
(like-likes you)
and after some pestering from Lilia, he admits that perhaps you and he could protect Malleus... together!
(he's going to have to work on the wording of that confession)
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#deuce spade x reader#jack howl x reader#ruggie bucchi x reader#jamil viper x reader#sebek zigvolt x reader#queued
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hi omg i have been thinking about this a lot and idk I think you could work well with my request, so I’ll just ask! How would Neuvilette and Wriothesley react to their female s/o telling them they can go raw / they can finish inside? I’m so curious~ and I hope you have fun with writing this! Neuvi and Wrio are so hot omg I am so sad I didn’t get Wrio :(
hello my dear!! thank you so much for sending this in, I finally got around to writing it ;-;
I absolutely did have fun with it, and I’m sure Wrio will honor you with His Grace pun intended during his rerun😌🙌🏼 do feel free to share more of your thoughts hehe
—————
asking them to finish inside (Neuvillette, Wriothesley) || 18+
Neuvillette:
The Iudex of Fontaine had been busy this entire week. Very busy. Too busy to spend any sort of alone-time with you, not even returning home for the night, instead spending the nights in his office, burying himself in the mountain of bureaucracy that he called his work.
Tonight was the first time after said week where he had come home to you, finally burying himself in you again… and it was driving both of you absolutely crazy.
Breathless pants of his name left your lips in a seemingly endless stream, your fingers entangled in the silky strands framing his pretty face as you gently rub your thumbs against his cheeks, the loving gesture in stark contrast to the almost feral movements of your bodies meeting one another in an unrestricted, desperate display of passion.
He was so damn close - you could see it in his face, hear it in the way his moans of pleasure got that slightly whiny edge you loved so incredibly much, feel it in the way his hips began to increasingly stutter with each stroke of his. He tried to slow down in an attempt to postpone his release, refusing to let this end just yet, not before you would be satisfied first… but you yourself had other plans.
Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him in even closer as you whispered in his ear "Don’t stop now, my love… Please, keep going, wanna feel you finish inside…"
He shuddered visibly, inhaling sharply in an attempt to calm himself down and keep from exploding right then and there.
It took all of the Iudex’s willpower to cease his movements, pulling away slightly to look directly into your eyes and inquiring "Are you… absolutely sure?"
Even though you were on the pill, and neither of you knew for certain whether it was even possible for him to procreate with a human, you usually never opted to take the risk… up until now.
You nod, pulling him in once more and clenching around him noticeably, your hips moving ever so slightly to coax him into going on.
"I am. It’s gonna be okay, just please…" You trail off, unable to finish the sentence, though it’s not like you needed to in order for him to understand. He nods very slowly, his empathetic nature paired with the physical need overwhelming him in this moment making it nearly impossible for him to resist your wishes (or his own body’s, for that matter).
He lets out a soft groan under his breath, starting to move against you once more, this time with more vigor and intensity, yet also trembling more than ever before. It wasn’t long until his thrusts grew sloppier, until he eventually pushed himself as deep as he could possibly go and let out a soft, shaky moan when he finally released inside of you.
~~~
Wriothesley:
The Duke was a smart and responsible man. He seemed to always know what to do and what not to do, keeping a cool head no matter the direness of a situation… but goddamn did you make that impossible for him today.
It was a certain time of the month - the time where you were especially horny and needy. And he already knew in advance: Wriothesley kept track of your monthly cycle in his calendar, ensuring that he was mentally prepared for all of your moods and could avoid additional headaches. But all that preparation didn’t help him much in this case, because how on earth would you expect him to not go completely feral when you come up to him sitting in his office, straddling his lap and rubbing yourself against him so deliciously??
He actually still had some administrative work to finish… but tomorrow would be a day too, right?
So Wriothesley ended up telling himself one of the biggest lies in human history: "JuSt tHe TiP" - which of course escalated into much, much more as you kept teasing and taunting him to keep going until he ultimately bent you over his desk, slowly sinking himself into you just the way he knew you loved.
He eventually doubles over, leaning down and pressing his chest against your back, whispering to you in a husky voice as he wraps one hand around your delicate neck: "You’ve managed to rile me up quite a bit there, darling." You only let out a soft whine in response, clenching around him desperately as you could feel yourself throbbing for more. The Duke couldn’t help but let out a stifled groan, sinking his teeth into your shoulder at the sensation.
"You’re really a piece of work, y’know that?", he then remarked with a throaty chuckle, his free hand coming down on your ass and eliciting a surprised yelp from you. He knew he wasn’t going to last any longer, you had gotten him way too weak already, so he inquired in a low rumble of a voice: "Where do you want it, princess?" He was about to pull out, but a distinct protest from you stopped him - it was as if your pussy was holding him in with a death grip, causing his eyes to roll back for a moment due to how close he was feeling to his limit.
"Stay inside, please, want you to cum inside", you babbled almost incoherently, yet the man understood every single word.
*Wrio.exe has stopped working*
You hadn’t even finished the sentence when he exploded inside of you, letting out a not-so-manly moan in the process (you fucking loved it).
#I’m ngl Wrio’s was personal LMAO#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#neuvillette#iudex neuvillette#neuvillette x reader#neuvillette x you#wriothesley#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley x you#my writing stuff
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lando norris nswf alphabet (part 2!)
(minors DNI!)
navigation taglist requests
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
There is no chance that Lando will ever in his life ask you for anal sex or agree to it. NO CHANCE. Ever since he first heard about it in his life, it has disgusted and disturbed him so much at the same time that he stands away.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Well, don't tell me Lando doesn't look like a munch. Totally do. Okay, he's also a big fan of you on your knees in front of him, until it takes his breath away as he looks at you all smeared with his cum with a wide smile and trained lips.
But oh boy! Sam sometimes begs you to lie down in front of him and let him give you pleasure. The biggest plus is that Lando is well trained in this. Damn knows where he acquired such skills, but they are unearthly.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Fast, but not violent. It's already in Lando's nature to speed everything up, but it's not painful in the process. With the rest, slow sex is not for you. Well, I beg you, where would all the fun be? The whole process is a little slower when Lando finally pushes you to the wall and your relationship is not in any comfortable place, but he continues to try to keep his cool.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
You love quickies.
What more can be said here? You can't keep your hands off each other, so every possible opportunity to get even closer is even advisable. You definitely prefer it more, of course, when you have more time (and, most importantly, space), but when there is no such chance, quick fun together is fine for you.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Norris has it in him that he likes to take risks - he doesn't spare himself from hot kisses with you in public or even light pinches or pats on your buttocks. But if the matter comes down to sex, I don't think he's taking too many risks. Lando respects his privacy after all, so sexual matters remain between you. Possibly in front of the whole club when you come out of the restroom quite smudged and giggly. Or in front of his family, well. What goes in the family doesn't die, right?
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
As much as you want. Really. Lando I think is pretty darn sturdy and can fly several rounds at a time, which is no surprise to you. More than once, with light breaks, you spent the whole night like that. Sometimes it would even start to dawn and you would be in each other's naked embrace, the hot temperature of the room and a mass of giggles.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
No, he doesn't own any toys. He just doesn't have any - he's not a contrarian, he himself even bought his friend an inflatable doll for his birthday. In your relationship he would sooner use some on you, so 100%, if you own a vibrator, Lando will reach for it at some point and see how it works on you.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Lando is so damn teasing! Once he will rub up against you, once he will "accidentally" touch you somewhere, once he will whisper such ungodly things to you, and then he will leave without a word. And during sex? I beg to differ. If only he has the strength to do so, he will interrupt until the last moment before your climax, just to hear your voice admonishing him in the midst of your moans.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Ay Lando is loud. In every possible aspect of his life, so in bed too. If he doesn't talk during sex, you definitely won't have it quietly anyway. Norris often giggles, and when he's not giggling, he's pretty darn vocal. Oj this boy is definitely not afraid to moan and show that he feels like heaven thanks to you.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
He loves, well he so much loves to brand you. He gets the same way when you bestow a hickey on his neck. Raspberries on your breasts? That's the standard. In summer it's hard to hide the signs of love from Lando under dresses and short tops. But that's what he loves. He proudly shows off whether it's his neck or his chest.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Well I think above average. Although Lando is not some particularly tall and massive, that's what his advantage is. I'm telling you that there's something about his pants that you don't expect ;P
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
God. Huge. As I mentioned before - you can't take your hands off each other. If you could, you would fuck each other every day. No matter what way - any way would be good. That's why yes, the sex drive Lando threw up when he first met you. And no matter what you do or what you're wearing! Remember
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Ay, it depends on the moment. Anyone who knows Lando knows well that he happens to fall asleep in the least expected places and circumstances. This is also the case after your sex, but by the fact that there are a lot of emotions in between, he has to talk them out first, and only then can he go to sleep. After proper after care on your part and his, you both fall asleep in each other's embrace (Lando on your breasts)
A/N: part one if you miss it, english is my second language
please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)
#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 instagram au#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 fic#formula 1#f1 social media au#formula 1 x you#lando norizz#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando x reader#lando norris#ln4 x y/n#ln4 fluff#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 x reader#formula one#formula one x reader#formula one x you#formula one x y/n#formula one x oc#mclaren#mclaren f1
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IDOL
[ gn!reader ] wherein jason becomes the rockstar's gf
jason todd x rockstar!reader
wc: 1432
AN :: there is an mcr and a fob reference here and both keep staring at me like a sore thumb
For a split second, your mind wanders off. Suddenly, you’re thinking about how you didn’t have a clue as to how Jason puts up with you.
Between the late-night practices and you cooping yourself in the studio all day, You feel like you don’t give him enough of your time. Somehow, though, he pushes through, and he makes it work. He meets you halfway. He said he wouldn’t trade you and your dreams for the world.
He’s funny. You love him.
Your mind snaps back to where you once were—on the stage. You feel a ringing in your head as you feel heat radiating off your body. The colorful lights blind you. Your shoulders hurt like hell from the weight of the guitar, and you feel winded as your lack of breath control and the previous song had knocked all the air out of you.
Despite all your qualms, though, you love doing this. The adrenaline courses through your blood and comes a rush you find for almost every night.
“Alright! You guys having fun so far?” The crowd cheers, buzzing with energy and alcohol in their veins.
You skim over through the faces in front of you. Some are ones you’ve seen before. They tend to attend your sets regularly, but many, though, were faces you didn’t recognize.
Most of all, however, you see Jason with a friend by his side, quickly catching your brief gaze on him. He stands right beside the platform of the tiny performing venue. He gives you a nod with a straight face.
You feel a surge of excitement just from his gaze on you, and you feel that energy course through your blood.
“Keep that energy up! We’re not finished just yet!”
As your bandmates adjust their effects, retune their instruments, and do one last mixing of sound for your closer, you regain your sense of clarity amongst the smell of booze that lingers throughout the venue. You shortly shot Jason a smile and a nod before readjusting your mic and redirecting your focus to the crowd.
“Now, before we sign off, I wanna thank you all for seeing us tonight. I really hope you guys enjoyed our set.” The crowd quiets down, almost dead. You take it as a sign to get it going again. “But come on now—let’s get this on!”
You breathe in once, breathe once out. It’s the first time you’re debuting this song. You rehearsed for this, but you doubt it's enough. You're scared you’ll blank out in the middle of the song, then fill it with random riffs. You’re scared you’ll sing the demo version and forget your final. You’re scared you might just not do the song any justice.
It’s the final song of the final night of your tour. You were not in the mood to mess this up.
Yet you pause for a moment. How much more in love could you be? Because suddenly, your thoughts are filled with him to calm yourself.
You catch him in the corner of your eyes once more, and you faintly hear a ‘Woo!’ from his direction.
Hell, this final song is about him.
He’s heard it, but he has no idea that you’re playing it tonight.
“Do you want to live forever?” You ask the crowd as the instruments start to set themselves up. “Sing this with me then.”
The song gradually swells, with the drums and bass starting out the song, looping the intro for a few rounds before the guitars join in. You harmonize with the main melody of the song, making up riffs as you go.
You feel yourself building the song, getting into the zone, and even doing a call and response because why the hell not?
Before you let the performance take over, you quickly slip in a “This one’s for him. Hi, Jay.” You look in his direction and wave.
He’s awestruck, enchanted.
You see him quickly follow your gaze and smile. You seem to have caught him off-guard. You’re sure he’s picked up on the instruments and the vocals. He’s smart, far smarter than you. You’re sure he knows what you’re about to play.
The song ends as fast as it starts. You forget that sometimes when you perform on stage, it’s like you’re on autopilot. This was precisely that, but in the best way possible. You feel your body carry the work while your mind can sit back and watch the scene. For a split second, you even ran closer to the crowd during the final break to hold them, grab on your arm.
Everything had passed by so quickly that you couldn’t even register that it was over. Not until the crowd began to mellow down, but not without an applause.
“Thank you all so much!” You smiled and waved goodbye before your roadies rushed to the stage to gather your equipment.
You look over to the side to find Jason. He’s gone, but that’s more than alright. You figured he rushed to help with fixing the equipment, seeing his size and all. It’s something he often does when he watches your shows.
You feel your throat run dry. Maybe it’s time to steep some tea.
You high-five your bandmates before exiting the stage.
—
You didn’t quite grapple with the reality of just how exhausted and thirsty you were until you stepped off the stage. The world felt more than just shaky, so you found yourself leaning over some table in the back, chugging as much water as you could. The tea can wait.
You could faintly hear your bandmates hyping each other up and giving each other even more high fives. You stood by the sidelines, watching them and laughing at their antics. God knew you were too drained to even think about joining them.
Still, by the corner of your eye, you see a tall figure standing next to you.
You’re always more than happy to talk to him.
“Well, hi, you.” You greeted, happy to see him.
In great contrast to your bubbly self, your boyfriend was more… frozen. He was silent, just looking at you with the biggest smile on his face. It wasn’t the first time he’d watched you play live, so you figured that the debut of the song was what made him so giddy at this moment.
As he stood there before you, you saw him in better lighting for the first time tonight after your show. You saw the sweat perspiring from his forehead to his neck and the sweat collected on his shirt. You basked in the light that framed his face from the side, but it accentuated those bright eyes of his. You take note of that smile that he’d been wearing even before your show. It only seemed to grow bigger as the night passed by.
Fuck, he really is beautiful. You think you may not ever get enough of him.
Finally, after a few moments of radio silence, he spoke. “Shit, babe.”
“Uhuuuh?” You found yourself giggling at him.
He’s really cute. You’re in love with him.
“You guys were amazing. I can’t believe my partner is a rockstar.” Practically stars in his eyes.
“Why, thank you.” You felt yourself warming up to the hand that finds your cheek.
“You also played the song!” The hand holding your head up gently tenses with his excitement. You can’t help but laugh at him.
“Yes, we did.”
“Your closer’s always Saturday. Why’d you guys change it?”
That’s for many reasons. For one, you wanted this final night to be special. It was the last date of your best-selling tour yet. You had to do something else.
Then again, you could’ve chosen any other song that hasn’t or even rarely gets played live.
“Well, it’s not always you watch my shows—with your whole thing and our usual tour dates and locations—so I really wanted to do something special.” You hummed, leaning further into his touch. ”It’s almost your birthday anyway.”
“My birthday is still in, like, three months.”
You shrug. “It’s never too early to celebrate.”
“That’s the length of an entire season, quierde. I think it’s still early.”
“That means there’s only more gifts to come, yeah?” He half-heartedly murmurs something in agreement.
There's a comfortable silence between the two of you.
“Love?” You called.
“Hmmm?”
You got on your tiptoes, balancing your weight on his shoulders, and gave him a peck on the lips, yet as you set yourself down, you felt him sweep you off your feet to return the kiss.
Your tea can wait a little longer.
#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x you#jason todd imagine#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#zero's writing °｡⋆⸜ ✮
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Do you think Steve would let you peg him?
a/n: this was gonna live in my drafts but 🌝
a drabble about different parts of steve harrington opening up for you. mentions pegging, drinking, blow jobs, fingering, all that good stuff! afab!reader but no pronouns or identities used!
You could navigate Steve’s room with your eyes closed at this point.
He'd been embarrassed to admit this was an idea of his until you got him drunk one night. Which leads to the two of you now fumbling around his room and giggly with the new situation at hand.
Steve would probably still get a little nervous, second guessing if you actually wanted to do this.
So you loosen him up with a blowjob. Swirling your tongue around his tip, savoring the taste of him. The weight of his cock so heavenly along your tongue.
You try to focus on relaxing your throat, letting Steve build up a steady rocking rhythm to distract himself while your hands come around to knead into the fleshy part of his ass. He’s giving you a content hum while jerking himself deeper down your throat. Muttering out a string of apologies while you gag around his cock. “S’fuckin’ hot, holy shit.”
One of your hands would slide up, finding it’s way behind his balls but just towards the edge them. You can hear his breath catch in his throat, he knows what's coming.
Honestly Steve would sound so beautiful moaning and begging and whining and rolling his hips onto your fingers. His cock dragging through the air due to the movement.
He'd take every ounce of strength not to cum then and there.
Steve also would help you get into the strap on. Tightening buckles around you, letting his fingers glide over your pussy as he teases you with gentle touches. Steve doesn't know exactly how to thank you verbally for having such an intimate night with him, the least he can do is try to physically show you.
You'd kneel between Steve’s thighs, admiring the sight of your strung out boyfriend lazily stroking himself. He’s starting to get nervous. Eyes trained on your strap on while he keeps losing rhythm in his strokes. “You’re gonna go slow, yeah?” The situation so closely mimicking the first time you let Steve fuck you.
How the tables have turned.
“Of course, Baby.” The back of his knees are sweaty against your hands as you push them back towards his chest. “Just gotta talk me through how you’re feeling.” Steve’s grabbing his thighs now to hold himself in place and rolling his hips back just slightly so you have a better angle. You reach down to barely ghost your touch over his hole. Nodding to yourself before grabbing the lube to prepare the toy for him.
Steve’s watching as you pour some into your hand before wrapping your fist around the toy and giving it a few pumps. You reach over with your free hand, tracing your hands down his length and letting your fingers brush across his balls. “Thank you for trusting me like this.” There’s a red blush on the top of his cheeks and blooming under the hair on his chest.
Steve wouldn't last long as you fucked into him. You have to balance yourself on his legs so he'd end up jerking himself off while you move. He's overstimulated at the new sensations honestly. Normally Steve warns you before he cums, not tonight.
There's a broken string of profanities before you watch as he cums all along his chest.
You understand why he loves fucking you in missionary so bad now, it's so fun to watch him come undone.
It would take him a few minutes to come back down from that high but don't worry - He'd spend the rest of the night taking care of you after how well you took care of him.
#hehehe welp! it's out there now#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington fic#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington smut#steve harrington#steve harrington x you#stranger things smut#steve harrington drabble
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I have a feeling I’ve been giving yall too much angst
So as a way to counteract that, I gift you Wholesome Reborn Catnap x Cartoon Dogday
Disclaimer: written at like 12 am in the middle of the night
He hates that dog
Catnap sat on his bed, staring into nowhere. His mind was wandering, thinking of his past life.
The stench of rotting blood, his stomach screaming for food, the cannibalistic mini critters, his hanging body, the prototype.
He did everything correctly, right?
His thought were promptly cut short by the knocking coming from the entrance. He looked at the direction before laying back down and covering himself with the blanket. He didn’t need to see his dumb face right now.
The feline felt relief when the knocking ceased, letting out a sigh as he thinks he went away… That was immediately cut short when the knocking suddenly got louder, he looked up and saw the happy canine knocking on his window, waving at him.
He glared at the dog before standing up and walking to the window, staring directly at him. The canine gestured the cat to open the window which he paired with pleading eyes.
Catnap stared daggers into Dogday before he opened the window, making him drop face flat onto the floor. The canine quickly got up and dusts himself off.
“I knew you were awake!” he smiled brightly at the feline, something about that made his chest feel heavy.
Catnap eerily smiles back “What do you want…” he asked Dogday in a tired voice.
“Well I was just thinking, maybe we could go out together! Like a picnic?” The feline raised an eyebrow at the canine whose face was getting redder by the second. What’s his deal?
“…I don’t have anything for picnics…” he tried to make an excuse, he felt uncomfortable around Dogday. not only because of what he did to him, but every time this dog is around, his chest starts to feel weird and he doesn’t like it.
“Oh that’s fine! We can just get the stuff on the way!” he grabbed Catnap’s hand and got closer to his face, the feline flinched on contact.
“Please please please say yes! It’s been so long since we hung out-!” the canine’s eyes sparkled as he made eye contact with the cat. The weird feeling got even worse for him, what the hell is this dog doing to him??
“…Fine. Just stay away.” he pushed Dogday’s face far from him before he started giggling and hopping up and down.
“Great! Okay I’ll meet you at the bottom!” Dogday waved and climbed down Catnap’s house. The feline just stood there processing all that before letting out a sigh as he followed Dogday.
The two started walking together, Dogday leading in front with energetic skipping as Catnap followed behind, slouching.
“Alright so what we need for a picnic is food, I know just where to get those! Come on, Catnap!” He giggled as he ran faster, the feline just watched the dog happily run off, he remembered when he would watch the other Dogday the same way… He hated it. The way he looked so happy made his stomach churn.
They arrived at Picky’s house, the dog rhythmically knocked on the door. Picky opens it and a smile appears on her face the moment she saw the canine.
“Hi Dogday! What’s the matter?” She placed her hooves on her hips as she asked
“We were wondering if you got some snacks we could have for our picnic?” he pointed at himself and to Catnap whilst he replied
Picky raised her eyebrows for a second before a smirk appeared on her face. “Yeah of course!” she smiled and went back inside, after a few minutes she came back with a basket full of tasty treats.
“Thanks Picky! You’re the best!” he thanked the pig as his tail wagged from happiness.
“No problemo!” the pig leaned to the dog’s ear ‘Have fun with your date’ she whispered, the canine took a moment to process that before his face flushed red, earning a chuckle from Picky
“See you later, you guys!” she waved and went back inside.
The two stood still for a minute until Catnap poked Dogday with his tail, snapping him back to reality “HM!? AH RIGHT! Sorry Catnap-!” he chuckled nervously, trying to stop himself from being a blushing mess.
The feline simply stared at him and shrugged. “Alright-! Let’s go then! I have the perfect place for a picnic!” He grabs Catnap’s hand and started dragging him, the cat froze when they got contact, he felt his face warm up. He hates this dog so much his face is going red… Yeah that’s it.
“Here it is! It looks beautiful isn’t it?” they arrived in a grassy hill, a single tree at the very top and a pretty view of the sky and where their houses were.
The feline stared in awe, he hasn’t seen something this nice before, after all he spent his life underground. He snapped out of the trance the moment Dogday let go of him, for some reason he tried to reach out for his hand again before he pulled himself back.
“Sit down, the grass feels nice!” Dogday placed himself on the grass and patted the spot beside him. Catnap hesitated for a moment but sat down regardless.
The dog started to chatter his mouth away whilst Catnap let his mind wander off, his hand felt empty, he needed to hold something, he didn’t feel this way before. What happened?
He turned his head to look at the dog who was still talking about something he wasn’t listening to. He heard his heartbeat get louder. He hated this dog, he hated him so much.
He hates him, Why else would everything about him make him feel so odd. Why his chest feel weird when he’s around, why his heart skips a beat when they get physical contact, why he thinks about him every time, why he never liked visiting his cell, why he tore his lower half off, why… he felt… empty when he saw him pass.
His eyes drifted to the dog’s hand, why was he so tempted to touch it. He didn’t understand, and before he could figure it out himself, he placed his hand on top of his, that shut the dog up and he looked over at their hands then to Catnap.
He gasped “Ca—!“ “don’t say anything.” Dogday covered his mouth with his remaining hand, the feline held it tighter making the canine’s face go red. His tail started wagging from sheer excitement and happiness.
He hated this dog…
They look up at the sunset.
…Does he really hate the dog? he started to question himself.
If it’s not hate… then what is this…?
His thoughts were disrupted by Dogday scooting closer and laying on him, “Today’s been wonderful, Catnap” he smiled at the feline. He only stared back. A little red tinting his cheeks.
“…yeah.. yeah it has.”
(our boy’s not handling love very well, someone get teacher Bobby on the case)
#smiling critters#smiling critters au#dogday#catnap#catnap reborn au#dogday x catnap#catnap x dogday#picky piggy
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why has no one said anything yet about cooper howard spitting in your mouth?? why am i the only one popping my fucking pussy rn???
he sees the way you are desesperate, not even sweat is being produced by your body anymore – not like there is a lack of it. the qay your vaultie uniform clings to your body is indication enough of how hot u are under those clothes – and then he gets that filthy canteen that has more dirt than water but god if isnt what you need to at least wet your mouth enough to at least produce some wetness to your tongue
and he drinks it. he looks at you as he does, maintaining eye contact, but then after he gulps down some water, he spits some more on the sand, that quickly absorbs before you can kneel down and eat some of that wet sand – you are that desesperate –. he sees the way you eye the few droplets that escape his mouth. not desesperate enough to lick his chin that contains a few spills, but close enough to get to that point. cooper is sure he can push you to this, but he has a more fun idea.
he tells you to come closer, rather demand, the way he pulls the lasso around your body. his dirty gloves pull your chin up, and you stare at the sky, not wanting to look at cooper and see what he has planned to do. “open your mouth” its the only command you get, and you obey, thinking he will finally take pity on you and give you the rest of the water, that probably is more mud than liquid. but all you see is him taking another big gulp before spitting inside your mouth.
your first instict is to spit it out, this is humiliating. but he holds your face, squeezing your cheeks, some water escapes your mouth and it looks like you are a drooling mess being lectured for doing something wrong. he makes you stare at him, telling you to swallow, that if you soit it out, it will be the last time he does something good to you – is this even considered good???
you do swallow, your face reddening as you do. but the way the ghoul lifts the canteen again to his lips, fills his mouth again and tilts your head back up, makes you think that maybe this isn’t so much for your survival as it is for his pleasure.
*softly*the fuck
i - i had to read this several times. im SWEATING rn. jjust - you really saw inside my mind huh?? this is sgshkshdshdka thank you for this i am not worthy 😭
#asks#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard x you#the ghoul x you#the ghoul x reader#i have been exposed#the thots are thotting#this is so big brained of you#i need to go lie down#thirsty thursday 💦
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King!Levi x Queen!Reader Semi-NSFW, King!Levi tempts and seduces Reader to stop working and have fun with him @2moth-anon2 requested.
Royal attention
Levi x fem!reader
Royal AU, married, fluff, romance, suggestive language, suggestive touch, teasing.
You're dedicated to your work and trying to organise a trading event for your people, but Levi desires your attention and love.
Sorry for how the tag list looks, if I tag the normal way it won't work and people won't get notifications.
@ladycheesington @darkstarlight82 @levisbrat25 @galactict3a @nyxiieluna
@li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess
@2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @emilyyyy-08
@notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously
The summer breeze drifted through the open window and through the thin curtains. An addictive scent of flowers and honey flowed from you and enticed your husband closer. Everything about you was enchanting from the way you spoke all the way to how you held yourself. All he wanted was to shower you with love.
Levi leaned on your desk as you scribbled away. He lovingly called your name. "Look at me."
You glanced up at him for a moment before carrying on with your papers. "Something you need?"
"So cold." He huffed. "I am your husband, your loving husband."
You smirked for a moment. "I know, grumpy, but this mean and cold wife of yours is working. I have to make sure everything is right."
He pouted. "Why?"
"Because I am not from here, I'm from a different land." You frowned as you looked closer at some designs. "I have to make sure everything is in order and people are happy. I have to make a good impression on them."
"Why?"
You released a long sigh. "Because they are your people and I love you with every fibre of my being and soul."
Levi rose to his feet and gracefully made his way around your desk to you. "You should pay less attention to my people and more attention to me."
"I would love to give you attention, but I need to work. Give me an hour."
He sat on the desk on some of your papers. "You said that an hour ago."
You paused a moment. "I did?" You glanced up at Levi. "Forgive me. I will finish soon."
He held your chin and lifted your head. "That will not do."
You felt your cheeks heat up and your heart race. "Levi."
He eyed your soft lips tinted a sweet colour. He ran his thumb over your lips slowly. "You are so beautiful."
"Thank you." You pulled your head from his touch. "I know I said an hour, but it really is all I need."
A few thoughts went through his mind as he gazed at you. Levi had never known love until he met you. In fact, Levi had never had dirty and lewd thoughts before you. His mind was racing with so many ideas to tempt you to be all his.
He pulled his blazer off and chucked it onto the other seat. He released a sigh as he slowly dragged his cravat off and noticed you kept glancing over at him. He chuckled a little when you squirmed in your seat as he unbuttoned his shirt a little at a time to show off his pecs to you.
He tilted his head as he ruffled his hair. "Such hot weather we are having, hmm?"
You gulped hard as you admired your husband. "Mm, you're right."
He slipped off the desk and moved to behind you. "Perhaps you should remove your little jacket and cool off with me."
You nibbled your lip. "Maybe."
He stood behind you and took off your little jacket. As soon as he put it down, he ran his hands over your exposed shoulders. "You seem...tense..." He leaned down and whispered against your ear. "Let me help with that."
You started working but Levi was distracting you with his touch. You leaned your head back a little as he massaged your shoulders carefully. All the knots in your body melted away as you felt your body relax under his touch. "Levi."
He pushed his hands down your arms. "My darling love, you have so much tension in your body." He nipped the top of your ear. "I've been neglecting my duties as your husband."
You moaned a bit when his hands massaged and pressed right under your breasts. "You're perfect, Levi. You do so much for me."
He moved his hands up to your breasts and lightly touched them. "I could do a lot for you right now." He kissed and nipped your neck as you started panting. "The body holds so much tension in it in many places."
"Many places?"
He licked your neck. "You need whole body therapy." He smiled against your skin. "Such deep loving body therapy."
"I do?"
He hummed a laugh. "That's right." He kissed the side of your head. "You need your body covered in kisses. You need your pure nectar licked and your fruit sucked. You need me deep inside of you to massage the deepest parts of you until a large release of my royal seed fills you until you can't take anymore."
You mewled in delight. "How are you so wonderful Levi?"
He leaned down as he lightly held your neck his other hand moved down your body and lightly massaged your hip. "I married you. You made me into this. Thank you for making me into a better man."
You stood up and shivered. "Y-You were always g-good." You glanced over at him. "I uh...should work."
He hugged you from behind and hugged you. "Just give me one hour of your time." He bit your neck. "That's all I ask."
You hummed a laugh. "That's the problem, you can't just do one hour." You turned around and faced him. "Besides, you know very well I like more than an hour as well." You ran your hands down his body and gripped his shirt. You yanked him closer and purred. "You have wound me up rather tightly, King Levi Ackerman. Are you ready to accept the consequences of your actions?"
Levi picked you up and slammed you against your desk. He slowly pushed you back as he leaned over you. "Oh, you know I am." He growled. "I will worship you, my darling Queen."
#levi ackerman#levi#aot levi#snk levi#aot fanfiction#levi x y/n#fanfic#levi fanfiction#levi x reader#levi x you#jelly fanfics#levi x yn#levi ackerman x female reader#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman x you#levi ackerman x y/n#levi attack on titan#levi aot#levi ackerman fanfiction
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LUCY TYING UP READER like role playing that reader is a raider and has to be taught manners, and lucy makes reader beg and thank her for everything
you groan and bite your lip to conceal a smirk as lucy's boot digs deeper into your center, your tied legs raising up as you grind against it.
she was the one who had suggested this type of roleplay - a scenario where you would play a raider who just broke inside the vaults, and you were more than happy to oblige. especially since you love it when she manhandles you.
"does the big, tough raider like this?" lucy mocks, jutting her lip out in a pout. "being tied down and used by a vaultie like me?" she pushes her boot off of you and it takes everything in you to stay in character as she sits down on your lap and runs her hands underneath your shirt, fingers ghosting along your nipples.
"fuck you," you spit, wiggling around in her grasp. "i should've killed you the moment i saw you."
a light slap gets delivered to your cheek.
"you should be thanking me. you'd be dead if i hadn't hidden you from our overseer." her hand wraps around your throat, squeezing. lucy's eyes turn soft as she looks down at your body, admiring you. "one look at you and i knew i could straighten you out - show you some manners."
"i'm not that easy." you counter, glaring at her.
"no?" she tilts her head, slowly starting to grind against your lap. you pray that she doesn't hear the way your breath hitches as she unzips her jumpsuit, exposing her perky breasts. "i could have you begging in less than a minute."
she reaches down and begins rubbing her thumb against your clothed clit and you let out a whine that has lucy smirking in triumph. your eyes flutter closed as she leans in close and leaves sloppy kisses along your jawline, chuckling darkly.
"still not that easy?"
"just fuck me already!" you demand impatiently, desperately lifting your hips up to hers. "you've had your fun with teasing me."
"have i?" lucy giggles, slowly pulling down your underwear and tucking them inside her pocket before winking at you. "i'll give you what you want - if you thank me for saving you. it's the least you could do."
you're just about to disagree when she enters a finger inside your needy pussy, going knuckle deep before stilling her hand. you know she wanted you to be a 'tough' raider, but maybe she won't be so mad if you give in so easily.
"t-thank you." you murmur, looking away in shame. she tuts and grabs your chin to make you look at her, squirming your body at how intense her gaze is.
"good little raider." lucy praises, and your stomach does flips. her finger begins moving slowly and you're so wet that you hear squelching sounds. "i told you i could straighten you out."
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