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wintfleur · 5 months

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ꔫ did so good baby

°. — pairings ( lando norris x fem! reader )

°. — summary ( you and your boyfriend spend the night together celebrating the Las Vegas gp )

°. — details ( g; smut. w; smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!!!) dirty talk, sub lando, riding, kinda soft dom reader?, I’m not sure what else to add. wc; 3k )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( sooo i decided to write another smut, and ofc I had to do sub lando!!. I’m not too sure of this one, so please let me know what you think! Also think of this as a late birthday post for lando! I can’t believe I forgot to post something on his b-day! I also knew I had to get something out for this gp since Vegas is my home town! HE DESERVED BETTER THIS RACE BUT STILL SO PROUD OF HIM But anyways I hope you guys enjoy this! Please don’t be a silent reader! )

“Look at you baby” you coo as your lips leave a wet trail up his bare stomach and chest. Lando tilts his head back, his eyes shut as heavy breaths pass through his lips. His chest moving simultaneously with his heavy breathing as he tried to calm down from the orgasm you just gave him. A sense of pride warms your chest at the whimper that escapes your boyfriend's pretty lips when you teasingly twirl your tongue around his nipple. “Always so responsive”

“Darling please” Lando begged, his tone so whiny that it made you smirk. You place your hands on his bare thighs feeling him twitch under you from your touch, you use his thighs to help you sit up on your knees between his spread legs. You look down at your boyfriend who was leaning back on his hands, his eyes still closed.

You bring one of your hands up to cup his chin with your pointer and thumb, your grip isn't rough, but it also wasn't gentle. “What is it baby, come on look at me.”

“Please, i need more” Lando pleads after he flutters his eyes open to look up at you. The sight of you nearly took his breath away, you were so enchanting and the way you looked down at him made him even more desperate for more of your touch, for your lips. His eyes wander down your body and he feels his mouth water at the sight of you in his favorite-colored lace lingerie.

“So needy, was what I have given you already not enough?” you dramatically pout, your tone condescending and teasing. Your hand that was gripping his chin moves to his shoulder while your other hand that was resting on his thigh slowly moves up his chest to rest on his other shoulder, using his shoulders as leverage to straddle his lap. A small hiss leaving your boyfriend's lips at the feeling of his throbbing tip brushing against your lace panties when you lean down to whisper in his ear tauntingly to ask again “it wasn't good enough?”

“No no it was so good…please” Lando stutters over his words, finding it hard to form words at the feeling of you placing soft kisses on his shoulder and collarbone. You so desperately wanted to give him what he wanted, the wet spot on your panties were almost dripping with your desire…but you couldn't give in so quickly.

“Tell me what you want baby” You whispered seductively between the kisses you littered across his neck, his skin burning under the soft but relentless touch of your lips. Lando nearly whimpers at your words, squeezing the sheets in his hands to stop himself from grabbing your hips, his mind running with thoughts of what he wanted.

“I wanna feel you wrapped around me” Lando whined, cutting himself off with a gasp at the feeling of you sucking under his jaw, hissing when you teasingly blow onto it after. Lando knows that he going to have to beg if you were really going to give him what he wanted “Please, please I've been so good.”

“Hmm you have” You hummed as you moved your face from his neck to get a look at your boyfriend's pretty face, his eyes were already on you. You can see the pleading look in his eyes, your poor boy was so desperate. You move some of his curls from his forehead and give him a small smile, you couldn't say no to him; not when he looked at you like that. “I’ll give you what you want baby.”

A breath of relief leaves Lando's lips and you let out a small giggle on the look that appears on his face. You lean back on his thighs, and you keep your eyes on his as you move your hand behind your back, unclipping your bra in one quick movement and dropping it somewhere on the hotel bed. A small smirk appears on your lips at the sight of your boyfriend's eyes immediately dropping to your naked chest, he always did have a weakness for your boobs. Lando licks his lips and has to stop himself from cupping your boobs into his hands.

You lean back down, a big smile on your lips at the way he looks up at you with his pretty eyes, you would never get over the way he looked at you, you loved him so much. You place your hand on his cheek before closing your eyes and pulling him into a kiss, Lando moaning as your tongues meet. You kissed him until you felt him pull away to catch his breath, he was quick to lean forward to continue the kiss, but you pulled away and shook your head no. You smirked when he whined at your rejection. You whisper sweetly, but an underlying of sternness in your tone “Lay back.”

Your boyfriend was quick to listen to you, laying back and resting his head on the soft pillow. He was pretty sure he would do anything you said just so he could feel you wrapped around him; he couldn't handle any more of your teasing tonight. It all started when you went out with a few other drivers and their girlfriends to celebrate the race. You had dressed up in his favorite dress and the way you danced against him in the club and the way you rested your hand on his thigh when you sat, got him all worked up. That was 2 hours ago.

You reached down between the two of you and took him into your hands, a soft moan leaving his lips immediately, at your touch. You could feel him throbbing in your hands, and for a second you felt a little bad for teasing him for so long, but that quickly disappeared as you slowly started to stroke him. The spit and left over cum from the head you gave him, made it easy to move your hand up and down. Lando turns his head to the side, his eyes shutting as moans pass through his parted lips.

You rub your thumb over his tip, watching his reaction as his breath hitches and a sweet whine leave his lips along with a desperate ‘please’. You decide that that's enough teasing, so you move your hand from his dick and move it between your thighs. A small gasp escaping your lips at the feeling of your fingers brushing against your clit as you move your panties to the side, God you were sopping.

You hold your panties to the side while your other hand grips onto the base of his dick, teasingly rubbing his tip up and down against your slit, coating his cock in your slick. A whine leaving your boyfriend's lips at the feeling. Once you were content with how wet his cock was, you lined his tip up with your entrance. You look down at your boyfriend and see that he's already looking up at you, and before you can open your mouth to ask; he’s nodding his head yes and whispering “please.”

You guide his cock into you and slowly sink down, the thick head of his cock stretching your velvety walls, your eyes fluttering close at the stretch. Lando’s thighs clench and a groan leaves his lips at how prettily your lips stretch around his cock. Sweet and loud moans escape your lips as your cunt struggles to take him in, your walls so tight around his thick cock that you can feel every inch. Both of you moaning in unison at the feeling of him being buried to the hilt in your sweet, warm pussy.

You open your eyes and rest your hands on his abdomen, feeling his chest rise and fall with his heavy breaths, still trying to get used to how tight you feel around him. You smile and lean down, one of your hands coming up to cup his cheek. Lando’s eyes flutter open at the feeling of your naked tits against his chest and before he could let out a moan at the feeling of your fluttering around his dick, you lock his lips in a slow and sensual kiss.

“You feel so good Lan” you whisper against his lips after you pull away from the kiss. You watch through your eyelashes as a shy smile appears on your boyfriend's lips. You caress his cheek with your thumb for a few seconds before you sit up, adjusting your knees at his side. You place both your hands back on his chest, watching his face as you slowly start to move up and down.

“God Lando” you whined in pleasure as you continued your motions. Bouncing up and down at a slow pace, the stretch was big but felt so good. Lando’s moans become louder as your rhythm starts to pick up, the feeling of your warm wet walls squeezing him was too much, he didn't know how long he would last.

“You can touch my baby, it's okay” You coo seductively, you could feel the way he was throbbing in you and the way he was squeezing the sheets, whimpers and pretty moans leaving his parted lips. As soon as those words left your mouth, he quickly stopped squeezing the linen and eagerly moved his hands to your chest, softly groping your tits. You would have teased him because of his eagerness but instead a loud moan came out instead, your nipples were always so sensitive and Lando loved using that to his advantage.

Lando smiled cheekily at the sound, but you were quick to shut down his own teasing when you purposely clenched around him. Lando drops his hands from your nipples and down to squeeze onto your waist, closing his eyes as a loud groan leaves his lips. You rock your hips faster against his, your nails digging into the skin of his chest as you tilt your head back in pleasure.

“Darling, I don't know how much longer I’ll last” Lando moans out, his thighs were constantly clenching, he was so close. The way your pussy gripped him and the way he could feel your desire make a mess on his thighs and drip down his balls were too much. Don't get him started on the hypnotic sight of your tits bouncing in unison with your fast pace. And he knew you so well that he could tell you were close too, your movements became more frantic and the way you fluttered around him proved him right.

“Me to baby — feels so good” you whimpered, you felt that tight rope in your stomach and you knew your peak was close. It was almost overwhelming how good it felt, his pelvic bone was hitting your clit every time you came down, and his pretty moans were too much for you. Lando looks away from your chest and up to your face, and he swore that he could have cummed just at the sight of you. Your mouth was agape, your face twisted in pleasure, your skin was glistening in sweat.

Lando lifts his legs, his feet planted on the bed and his grip on your hips tighten. Both of you are moaning in unison at the new position. You keep one of your hands on his chest while the other moves behind you to squeeze his knee in pleasure, the new position causing him to go inside you deeper. Lando moves one of his hands from your hips and moves it to his chest, softly squeezing your hand. He needed to hold your hand; he was overwhelmed with the pleasure he was feeling.

Your eyes flutter open and your movements still, you look down at your boyfriend and see the blissed outlook on his face. He was looking up at you with hooded eyes and his mouth parted as heavy breaths passed through his lips. You could see it in his eyes and the way his hands were clinging to you, he was so close. You smirk and lean down so your chests were almost touching, moving your hand that was now interlocked with his, by the side of his head.

“What? gonna cum already?” you whispered tauntingly in his ear, tangling your hand that was on his chest, in his hair that was at his nape. You continued to rock your hips against his, your ass slapping against his thighs, creating a lewd sound. A loud and embarrassing whine escaped his red and puffy lips, the coil in his stomach only tightening and so did his grip on your hand and hip. You knew the more you talked to him like that, the faster he would come undone.

“Gonna fill me up? — Hmm? Make a mess?” You continued to taunt him, your movements becoming more frantic, chasing his and your release. Lando was to fucked out to properly respond, the only sounds leaving his mouth was moans and a pitiful ‘yes’. You move your hand from his nape and softly pat his bottom lip with your pointer and middle finger. Lando knows what it means, and he eagerly opens his mouth for you. You smile big and bite on your bottom lip, sliding your two fingers into his mouth, his mouth closing around your fingers.

“So good for me” you coo between your own moans, your eyes not leaving your boyfriend's pretty face. Lando twirled his tongue around your fingers to get them wet, his eyes closed as he couldn't help but moan around them. You pull your wet fingers out of Lando's mouth, smirking at the small whine that leaves his now parted lips. You move your hand between the two of you, your wet fingers making contact with your even wetter clit. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you start rubbing it.

“I’m so close — please can i cum?” Lando begged as he let out a choked-out moan, tilting his head back in pleasure, blinking away the tears that stored in his waterline. You can feel him pant against your mouth, the tip of his nose bumping into yours. The pleasure he was feeling was something he's never felt before, the coil in his stomach becoming too much. Your eyes went down to his and the way he looked, nearly brought you over the edge.

“Please Lan, i wanna feel you” You almost begged, you were so close. The way your thighs clenched and ached at the fast rhythm you had as you rocked against his cock, and your fingers were sopping and ached at how fast you moved them against your clit; but you cherish the ache. You move to sit up, but a surprised moan leaves your lips as he wraps his arms around your waist, holding you down to his chest, an even louder moan leaves your lips at the feeling of him thrusting up into you.

“Fuuuck” You whine loudly, your eyes squeezing shut and your fingers moving from your clit to squeeze onto the white linen. The sound of skin slapping was so lewd and echoed across the lavish hotel room, you were thankful that the bed didn't start hitting against the wall from Lando's movements. The angle wrenches a sling of moans leaving yours and his lips, his pace becoming delirious and his grip on you tightens as he cried out “fuck, ‘m gonna cum”

“Oh my god Lan!” you cried out in pleasure as Lando held you down on his cock. The feeling of his thick head of his cock hitting deep against the sensitive spot of your slick cunt and the feeling of warmth as he spilled himself deep inside you with a loud cry of your name, brings you to your own peak. The tight rope rips and you feel yourself fall into your desire, feeling your walls throb around his cock as you come undone. A pleasure that left you lightheaded.

It was silent for a long while as you simply held each other, finding comfort in each other's soft touch and the feeling of their beating heartbeat against one another's chest. You moved your hand away from squeezing the linen, a small sting in your fingers from how hard you squeezed, and you moved it up to his cheek. You tilted your head up towards him and watched as his eyes fluttered open at your touch, a tired smile forming on your lips at the beautiful sight of his eyes. You caress his cheek softly with your thumb before whispering “You did so good baby.”

“Tonight, and at the race, I'm so proud” You continue to whisper, you were insanely proud of your boyfriend. The love and trust that you had for each other made tonight even more special for the two of you. Lando felt a little emotional at your words, no matter what he always knew that you were by his side.

“I love you” you finally heard his voice; it was quiet and scratchy from all the loud moans that he let out tonight. Your smile gets bigger, and you lean your face closer to his, placing a gentle and slow kiss on his lips. Lando eagerly kissed you back, his hands slowly moving up and down your sides. You pull away to whisper against his lips “I love you more.”

“Room service?” Lando asked his tone hopeful as he broke the few moments of silence the two of you had shared as you stared into each other's eyes. The two of you didn't have to say anything else, your eyes told each other everything already. You laugh loudly at his words, of course he was thinking about food. Lando smiles big at the sound of your laugh, bringing one of his hands up to softly play with your hair.

You place a soft kiss on the corner of his lips before you fully sit up, your eyes going down where the two of you meet. You raise your hips and watch as his now soft cock slips out of you, a groan leaving both of your lips at the feeling. A sigh escaping your lips at the feeling of your mixed cum dripping down your thighs. You look up at your boyfriend to see his eyes trained down at your messy cunt softly biting his lip. You scoff playfully and nudge him with your knee, his eyes shooting up to yours with a bashful smile, shy that he got caught.

“Bath and then room service”

°. — taglist ( @iloveyou3000morgan @ophcelia )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( omg I’m kinda in love with sub!lando and I really want to explore more of it! Feel free to send in some asks! )

#﹕─┈ roro’s works #f1 #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #formula 1 smut #formula one smut #lando norris x reader smut #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #las vegas gp 2023

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sturnsdoll · 3 days

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𝙂𝙄𝙍𝙇𝙔 𝙂𝙁 ˚୨୧⋆｡ - M.S

(headcannons!)

pairing: matt x girly/hyperfem!reader

warnings: hc's, sfw and nsfw but they are labelled as such.

nsfw warnings: dom!matt, sub!reader, implied spanking, dirty talk, mostly just super suggestive.

authors note: multiple people requested a matt version so here you go <3

SFW !

ೃ⁀➷ one of the first things matt loved about you was the way you express yourself through your style.

ೃ⁀➷ how could he keep his eyes off you with bows dangling and intertwined through your hair, belt loops or pretty much anything else you could stick em' on

ೃ⁀➷ watching you lay peacefully against your pink silk sheets never fails to lure him into crawling under your matching covers to cuddle and stroke your perfectly cared for hair into further relaxation.

ೃ⁀➷ anytime your cake-esque fragrance is sprayed around him he has to pull you into him. he's addicted to it like crack. he has to bury his face into your neck, inhaling like he'll never be graced with it again.

ೃ⁀➷ anytime he's out he's looking for things you'd accesorize with..

ೃ⁀➷ matt would be searching through every color of ribbon in every store he's in for a color, size or texture that you don't have.

ೃ⁀➷ matt would want to buy you makeup because he knows how good you feel about yourself while wearing it.. not saying he'd be good at picking out the right shades but hey, he tries right??

ೃ⁀➷ matt loves watching the bottom of your skirt dance and twirl while you bounce around your room with your fav artist playing..

ೃ⁀➷ you hum the lyrics while organizing your closet that's drowned in shades of pink..

ೃ⁀➷ "need help sweetheart?" "i'm okay, thanks" and even though he knew you were sincere from the sweet grin on your pretty lips, he'd get up from the comfort of your bed to assist anyways. he couldn't let your pretty little head get too exhausted now could he?

ೃ⁀➷ he knows how capable you are though, there's no doubt. he enjoys taking care of you but knows your more than able on your own

ೃ⁀➷ he would try his hardest to be assertive when he's angry but it was always impossible.

ೃ⁀➷ mid arguement you'd find yourself inching closer till you reach him. you take his hand. he can't ignore your perfect shiny acrylic nails (that he paid for) grazing along his palm to slowly interlock with his longer, masculine fingers.

ೃ⁀➷ "i'm sorry matt, i'll make it up to you. " you'd apologize sincerly.

ೃ⁀➷ before he could even think about saying no, your lashes batting up at him with doe eyes beneath them would usually force him to the final decision of teaching you how to behave another way...

NSFW !

ೃ⁀➷ "you think you look all innocent don't you?" now your backed up and corned against your makeup table. a few lipglosses knock over when the back of your thighs hit the table, your hands coming behind to steady yourself.

ೃ⁀➷ you'd nod your head. matt's dry laugh makes wetness pool beneath your skirt faster than you're willing to admit. "we'll see how much of a good girl you really are then yeah?" then next thing you know you'd be holding off your orgasms, being left begging for at least the 3rd time in a row.

ೃ⁀➷ and it never took much to get him going.

ೃ⁀➷ matt and you would be with his friends and all it'd take would be a graze of your perfect nails against his jeans for him to crave them wrapped around his dick.

ೃ⁀➷ your perfect pink lips pouting at him as you asked to go home early..

ೃ⁀➷ your eyes telling him you weren't wearing the shortest skirt you could find for no reason.

ೃ⁀➷ matt never really cared about you doing much for him sexually. making you feel good is what got him off. you were his princess and you needed to feel as such, in and out of the bedroom.

ೃ⁀➷ contradictory to that though, being a princess means being a bit of a brat and he knows how to deal with you when needed.

ೃ⁀➷ if it came to it, he'd pull you out of any social event (dinner, party, hangout, doesn't matter) and take you to his car.

ೃ⁀➷ your sweet demeanor never stopped him from ruining you.

ೃ⁀➷ "you think that shit's cute?" you quickly mutter back a "no" while knowing damn well that being bent over his lap in the backseat as your tears of pain and pleasure ruined your makeup was exactly what you were hoping for.

ೃ⁀➷ "who's dog was in here?" nick would ask matt the next day, eyeing at the nail shaped imprints in the seat cover. chris' head whips around from the front to spot your hair ribbon discarded on the floor. he put two and two together. "matt, there's absaloutely no way dude... in nick's seat seriously?!"

(sorry if any of the tags didn't work) tags ᥫ᭡ : @mattsrod @sturncakez @sturniololovesss @sturniolosstar @sstvrnioloo @watercolorskyy @pettydollie @sturniol0s @6ix9inewiturmom @sonicsmacks @orangelala

#matt sturniolo #sturnsdoll #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo headcannons #matt sturniolo x girly reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets fanfic

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sw33tsuccubus · 4 months

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𝒫𝑒𝓇𝒸𝓎 𝒥𝒶𝒸𝓀𝓈𝑜𝓃 boyfriend headcanons

you’re best friends who kiss

likes kissing your cheek. it’s just where his lips go. if he’s excited, like after winning capture the flag, he kisses your lips and then gets all flustered. it’s like the first time all over again. gives you these big bear hugs that make you warm. nuzzles his face into your hair during these.

has been jumpscared by a bee before. maybe he jumped into your arms and shrieked. just maybe.

it’s rare the two of you can cuddle. camp is always so busy. whenever you can, though, it’s always so sweet. sometimes you lay on your back and he drapes an arm and leg over you, his head on your shoulder with his breath lightly tickling your neck. sometimes his arms lazily wrap around you, face in your hair, legs tangled together. occasionally he’ll spoon you while you cuddle one of his plushies.

speaking of his plushies. he has a few, and they’re all sea creatures. a crab, a squid, a shark, a clownfish, a seahorse, a dolphin. he’ll be offended if you think they’re silly.

kind of embarrassing. will brag you’re the best at something even if you’ve never done it. has an ‘i ❤️ my girlfriend/boyfriend/partner’ shirt.

you guys have bracelets of each others’ color schemes. there’s a charm related to your godly parent on there. the one he gave you is blue, and it has a trident charm.

he paints his nails with you. more often than not they’re royal blue, but sometimes he paints them your favorite colors. he’d love to match you, smiling at your hands whenever your fingers are intertwined and he can see.

smells like the sea naturally. he uses cologne and scented shampoo, but you can only smell them if he’s pressed against you.

leaves clothes at your cabin just so you can wear them. gets so giddy if you do. denies any accusations that he does it on purpose. he makes sure it’s always his favorite clothes too, so it smells just that much more like him since he wears them more.

when you start talking, he zones out of everything in the room. partly because he’s hyperfocusing, but also because he chooses you over anything else. maybe he has heart eyes. just maybe.

he’s into pda, but he listens to your boundaries. in love with holding your hands. he’s be a little disappointed if you wouldn’t let him but he’d understand.

has tried impressing you by flexing. yeah, he’s muscular, but it was so funny. he’s talking with a friend, sees you, and immediately shows off. please don’t laugh, he’ll cry about it.

he’s dramatic. pouts and whines if you laugh at him for being childish. pouts and whines if you don’t laugh at one of his jokes. pouts and whines if you don’t hang out with him at least three times a day.

asks to spar with you. he’ll hold back to see what you’re capable of and then match as best as he can. if he cuts you, he’s apologizing and almost screaming. if you cut him, he’s laughing it off and telling you he’s okay. it’s fine if that’s not your thing, though; you can watch him :) at first, you think he’s being egotistical when he offers, trying to show off, but it’s kind of cool to watch. he’s like a gymnast, or a figure skater. his motions are just so fluid.

he likes to go swimming at least once a week to keep himself grounded. if you don’t want to come, he’ll collect you something from underwater. a pretty rock, a seashell, some random ocean treasure. he’d be ecstatic if you came with him, though. picking you up and twirling you in the water and splashing water at you.

does not shut up. he lays there and yaps about his day with his head on your lap and your hands playing with his hair. tells you about his favorite movies while walking with you around camp. he complains about any inconveniences with his cheek pressed to the top of your head, his arms wrapped around you.

that being said, he’s also a great listener. he sits there and nods along, smiling and adding small quips where needed. if you need advice, don’t ask him!! no matter how much you love him, he gives terrible advice. he’s quite reckless.

he’s protective. not overly so, but he is. he’s watching over you during training, he’s worrying if you ever go on a quest without him, he’s standing up to anyone at camp or at school who says something about you. if you got injured during the Battle of Manhattan or the fight against Gaea, he would be very worried and so so mad. he would put everything at risk for you.

he gets jealous sometimes and it’s funny, seeing him pout and reach for your hand. he’ll gently laugh at you and tell you how he feels about you if you ever feel jealous.

dating him is an experience.

he has some mood swings. he’s normally a happy, funny guy, but sometimes he gets sad thinking about his past and all the friends he’s lost. he gets frustrated and angry sometimes, when things don’t go his way or if things start piling up.

if he’s upset, he tries to avoid you so that he doesn’t snap at you. once he’s feeling better, he’ll come to you and hug you, which lead to cuddles. he doesn’t say much when this happens. either it’s silent, or you can talk to him and he’ll listen to each word.

he’s such a sweetheart. he’s always thinking about what you prefer and your interests and he’s always trying to be a gentleman for you, though his silliness makes it funny.

he’s all in all a caring and sweet boyfriend.

#percy jackson x reader #gn reader #headcanons #pjo x reader

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judasofsuburbia · 1 year

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something something kindergarten teacher! steve who is so tired of going on bad dates. kindergarten teacher! robin who doesn't want him to give up.

“Really? The date went that bad?” Robin asks again.

“Yes,” Steve drones. “I swear she looked like she’d rather be at the dentist than on a date with me.”

Robin makes a sad face at him. Steve continues to sort the paint jugs and throw out any that have been mixed with other colors. Robin finishes putting toys back into cubbies and sanitizing the fake food.

“Okay so,” Robin starts.

Steve immediately holds up a hand. “Don’t say ‘maybe she’s not the one but someone is’. I’m sick of this, Rob. I feel like I’m just better off alone.”

“Not true,” Robin argues. “You’re a catch. You’re attractive and good with kids. You make me laugh so hard my ribs shake. You’re a great listener and you make amazing cocktails. Great helmet of hair. Who wouldn’t want to date that?”

Steve’s heard it all before. He loves Robin, he does, but it doesn’t seem to matter what she thinks of him because no one in this town wants to make it to date two with him.

He used to be so good at this. Always had a girl on his arm at football games in high school. Always had a date to prom. Always had some girl to make out with at parties. Even when he realized later on in his twenties that he liked boys too, he still couldn’t find one that took his attraction seriously.

Steve Harrington? Like both? Unheard of, apparently.

Still, Steve didn’t want to start the first day of school on a bad note. “Thanks, Rob. I might need to lick my wounds for a second but I’ll get back on the horse I promise.”

“Good because our marriage pact could be closing soon,” Robin mumbles with a sly smile.

Steve’s head whips around. “Are you‒”

“I have a ring picked out,” Robin practically squeals.

Steve does his best to gently set down the paint jugs and rip off his latex gloves before darting across the room to pick Robin up in a twirling hug. He kisses her head repeatedly until she’s groaning, giggling, and shoving him off.

“Rob, that’s amazing,” Steve breathes. He squeezes her tightly again.

“You better keep your mouth shut,” Robin warns with a pointed finger. “It’s so hard to surprise Nancy Wheeler but I think I’m finally going to be able to.”

Steve’s grinning from ear to ear as he mimes zipping his mouth closed. “Secret’s safe with me.”

The alarm on Steve’s phone breaks them out of their little love fest and suddenly the halls are filled with parents, children, and teachers gabbing to high heaven. Robin gives him a salute before crossing over onto her side of the classroom. Technically, there is a foldable partition between the two rooms but it will be a cold day in Hell if Robin and Steve ever actually separate their classrooms.

Steve goes to stand by his door and greet his new gaggle of students. He high-fives each of them as they walk through the door and points to their assigned cubby and seat.

Fifteen minutes later, he’s looking around the room and sees that two seats are still empty. Dustin and Max Munson. He didn’t see them at parent-teacher night last week but he knows from their file that they’re fraternal twins from a single, widowed dad. He tries to keep an eye out for them but he knows the other kids are getting restless.

Then he hears, “Oh, Mr. Munson, you’re actually in Steve’s‒sorry, Mr. Harrington’s class. He’s just right across the way.”

Steve glances across the room and does a double-take. Across the room is the alleged Mr. Munson, this tall, lanky man with curly brown hair that hits his shoulders with a blank bandana tying down the top of his head, big brown eyes, a leather jacket with pins, a white tank top, and coverall sleeves tied at his waist. He’s positively breathtaking.

Holding either hand are Max and Dustin. A little redhead with a baseball cap, overalls, and a striped shirt. A little brunette curly head with green khaki shorts and a shirt with a dragon on it. Mr. Munson smiles apologetically at Robin and walks across the room to Steve’s. Dustin bolts to his assigned seat and starts talking animatedly to Will Byers who looks a little scared out of his mind but is quickly rescued by Mike Wheeler who is just as excited. Max stays glued to Mr. Munson’s side as he walks up to Steve.

If Steve’s not mistaken, Mr. Munson looks him up and down before speaking.

“Sorry we’re late,” Mr. Munson says and of course, his voice is pretty too. “This one is a little nervous about being away from her dad.”

Steve draws his eyes away from the strong neck and pale collarbones that poke out from underneath his jacket to the scared girl. He bends down to her level and gives her a soft smile.

“Are you Max? I’m Mr. Harrington,” Steve says.

Max blinks, inching more and more behind Mr. Munson’s pant leg.

“School’s kinda scary, huh?” Steve asks.

Max nods.

“I know I get a little nervous on the first day and I’m the teacher,” Steve admits in a small, dramatic voice. He sees the tiniest sliver of a smile on Max’s face. “I’ve sat you next to Lucas Sinclair,” Steve points to the smiling kid on the other side of the room. Lucas gives a small wave. “He’s a very nice boy and I think he even likes the Bulls,” Steve gestures to Max’s hat. “So, I think you guys will have loads to talk about. We’re gonna have a really fun day, okay? And then you’ll get to tell your dad all about it.”

Max glances timidly around the room again and slowly lets go of her dad’s pant leg. Dustin rushes over and shows Max where her cubby is which detaches her completely. Max sits next to Lucas who does get very excited over her hat. Steve and Mr. Munson watch her relax little by little.

“Holy sh‒shirt," Mr. Munson coughs and smiles sheepishly. "Wow, uh, you really know how to talk to them. Literally made her a friend within five seconds."

Steve stands and tries to regain composure now that the irresistible dad’s attention is on him.

“Thanks,” Steve says quietly. “The first day is always a little tricky.”

Mr. Munson holds out his hand and says, “Eddie.”

Steve takes it, feeling a little dizzy over how firm his grip is and the callouses on his hands. “S-Steve. Harrington.”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t make it last week. Last-minute towing emergency for Chief Hopper,” Eddie says, finally dropping Steve’s hand.

Steve playfully rolls his eyes. “I’ve been telling him for years that he needs to dump that old hunk of junk already. I’m guessing you work for Munson Mechanics?”

Eddie smiles boldly and glances down at his attire. “Yeah, that’s where I get this sick uniform. Very exclusive.”

“I’m jealous,” Steve laughs nervously, trying desperately to keep his eyes on Eddie’s face. But even then, his eyes are so pretty and his smile is so radiant. There’s faint stubble on his upper lip and jaw. Steve wants to run his fingers over it amongst other things.

“Well, I won’t keep you much longer,” Eddie smiles, clapping Steve on his back. “Maybe I’ll get you a free oil change for your trouble.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble‒”

Eddie leans forward a little and squeezes Steve’s shoulder. He whispers, “Or maybe I just want to see you when there are not twenty five-year-olds staring at me.”

From this proximity, Steve can smell his cologne and lingering car oil. He can feel his brain cells dying every second he inhales the intoxicating aroma. Steve breathes shallowly, too aware of the growing blush on his cheeks, and says, “S-sure. I’d like that.”

Eddie smirks and has the audacity to wink before going to each of his kids, ruffling their hair, and kissing them goodbye with a big wet smack on their cheeks. He passes by Steve again and murmurs, “I won’t say goodbye to you like that. Not yet, at least. Good luck with my little gremlins” before walking out the door.

Steve hears the clunk of his boots echoing down the hall and each step makes his heart beat louder against his ribs.

He dares to look at Robin across the room who is staring at him with a smug grin on her face. She mimics getting on a horse and does a little lasso with her hand.

Steve adjusts his glasses, clears his throat, and says in his best teacher voice, “Alright friends, who’s ready to start kindergarten?”

EDIT 2/8: READ THE FULL FIC HERE 🤠

#KINDERGARTEN TEACHER STEVE MY FUCKING BELOVED #emily writes #steddie #steddie ficlet #ronance #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #max mayfield #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #steve harrington/eddie munson #teacher! steve harrington #mechanic! eddie munson #dad! eddie munson

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silky-nereid · 2 months

Text

— bee’s knees

yandere! cheater x married! reader/you

part 2 , part 3

Yandere! Cheater who was born from an old money household and married you due to the pressure of societal reasons and not because he was constantly in the bed of single residents of the town and surprisingly he lived across the street from you and you were one of the many stars of the town.

Yandere! Cheater who was often drowning you in lavish clothes and items that you desired from extravagant places that you haven’t been able to visit despite your parents having enough money to spend.

Yandere! Cheater who always loves to come home with a couple of buttons undone and occasionally leaves the smeared lipstick on his neck for you to see.

“Sorry for coming home late.” He held the fresh newspaper. “You know how the roads get on the way home, don’t you?”

He pushed back the golden wire-framed reading glasses on the bridge of his nose, with an exasperated groan and made himself a comfortable spot in an intricately designed wooden chair next to you who was reading through the movie catalog, deciding on what movie to see without him.

You desperately tried to hold a calm expression, smelling the familiar aroma of inexpensive perfume that twirled around him. He went to go and visit her. Again.

“You should bathe,” you replied. “I will be back, I’m going to see pictures.”

You turned away from him but felt his burning gaze from the thin sheet of the newspapers.

Yandere! Cheater who weasels his own way into your time of relaxation but you hardly complain about it since he’s been doing this since he decided to marry you and he just wants to keep an eye on you.

Yandere! Cheater who can’t stand when anyone’s hands simply graze on your hands because he believes that they are reserved for him and nobody else. Surprisingly, your touch occasionally seems to bring him back from his boiling temper.

Yandere! Cheater who often goes to speakeasies to get a taste of ‘real liquor’ due to the prohibition and occasionally comes home with a person draped around his neck.

You despised him for bringing dirt to your doorstep. Your shoes clicked on the marble floor towards the drunken giggling of the woman who was draped around his neck.

“Bringing a woman to our—to my home,” you said. “You can’t…You can’t even respect a simple request of mine.”

Your hand rested on the center of your chest, looking at him with such pain since he could listen to a simple request because he did once before; why was it so different now?

His hand tried to reach out to you to soothe the anguish but instead held onto the back of the exposed back of the woman, tracing the soft designs on her spine.

“I’m sorry, truly I am.” His cold hand stroked your warm cheek. “I will come back later without her.”

Yandere! Cheater who always makes it up to you by gifting you with items and clothes that you have been keeping your eyes on when you both decided to go on a make-up shopping spree and takes you on luxurious dates to make you feel better because it’s not your fault.

Yandere! Cheater is annoyed and notices on the dock across fireworks in extravagant colors and are simply too bright but has a viewing party with you at the amount.

Yandere! Cheater who simply provides financial security for you despite you coming from an old money family.

“Look at this.” He held up an invitation with a folded newspaper on his lap. “It seems that the owner of the fireworks wants us to join them for their next viewing party.”

Your face grew in a small smile and taking the opened invitation from his hand, seeing it held an elegant wax seal in your favorite color. It seemed to be a very short handwritten message and not the usual message written from a typewriter. His free hand managed to hold your cheek and you couldn’t seem to pull away from him.

#yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere prompt #yandere x you #tw yandere #yandere fanfiction #yandere fic #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere male x reader

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mockingbirdie · 1 year

Photo

LOOK WHO GOT IT IN UNDER THE WIRE! HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY 2023!

#TonyRhodey #RhodeyTony #Iron Husbands #IronHusbands #RhFe #Valentines #*#**#Happy Valentines Day #twirls tries to color #edits #edit #Happy Valentines

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gojos-espresso · 10 months

Text

Him reacting to you wearing your sexy crochet lingerie you made-

Pt-1

A/N: Just made this sexy crochet bra top and now I can't it of my brain on how my favs will react to it.

Warnings: slightly suggestive

Kaveh/Alhaitham/kaeya/childe x nb!AFAB! reader

His eyes didn't leave your hands as you twisted and pulled through the threads of your new "project". You often made cute plushies or sweaters for him and yourself but this was a little different. You won't tell him what it was you were making which caused his curiosity even more. He tried peeking into your phone as you worked or tried his best to figure it out, but you just won't budge. Here you are standing in front of him, eyes wide in shock, as a small trail of blood ran down his nose.

Inspiration

KAVEH

He just couldn't believe his eyes, Standing awkwardly at the entrance, mouth agape. So this was what you had been working on all along? A pink lacy baby doll with matching panties. Shyly walking towards him you slightly twirled showing off the airy material and your sexy figure. "You made this!?" He squealed as he reached out to you, holding onto you firmly. He adored your creativity, and all the gifts you gave him were cherished by him. But seeing you use your talents to such an extent, just for him made him so hard. Pining you to the wall, he slid to his knees as he slowly kissed up your thighs, kneading your ass. He softly kissed you over your panties before making eye contact with you. His red eyes were darker than before.

"What did I do to deserve you? My reward for your hard work will be rich and sweet. Come on open up your legs more"

ALHAITHAM

The only time he would put his book down in the first go is when you are the one calling him. Sighing he looks up to see you shyly walking up to him. The green of the garment caught his eyes quickly. On closer inspection, he realized it was the yarn you begged him to buy just last week. "What do you think?" You inquire whilst adjusting your top which became a little too see-through. Keeping the book down he reaches out to you pulling you onto his lap. "It's perfect" he replies whilst pulling onto the strings of your top, inspecting every detail as his hand slid down your body and resting on your thighs.

"What other ways are you going to use to pull me into you? Well, you aren't going anywhere" tomorrow."

CHILDE

The Shneznayan cold made you pick up crochet. Sitting with the village grannies and making sweaters and plushies for the kids was your biggest source of happiness other than that one ginger-haired sweetheart. He loved your creations. Your sweaters were an instant hit with the townspeople but also with your lover. Hearing the clinking of keys you ran out of the room covering yourself in a blanket. The harbinger oh so ever tired made himself known in the house grumbling about how tiring it was. "Like seriously why does- NAME!" He cut himself off before shrieking out. A hand now covering his agape mouth as you twirled in the red piece you made." I had some scrap yarn left from your sweater so-Hey!!" He threw you over his shoulder and made way for the bedroom.

"Sweetheart you ain't leaving the house for the next two days"

KAEYA

He hadn't been home for a week, the trip to Sumeru was exhausting, the heat getting him. The sun had already set in Mondstadt, the purple hues scattered in the sky. Groggily he climbs the stairs of his apartment, a wine bottle in hand to enjoy with you. "I'm home!" He calls out as he enters the house. The living room was a mess scattered with yarn everywhere. He chuckled being reminded of your love for crochet. Dropping his bags he walks towards the bedroom hoping you are asleep, instead, he is greeted by the sight of you wearing a lacy baby doll in baby blue, the same color as the yarn scattered around and checking yourself out in the mirror. Walking swiftly he hugs you from behind causing you to yelp. " Darling when did you mmph-" He kissed you square on the lips as his hands opened the strings of your top.

"How do you become more and more irresistible every time I'm away? I believe my thirst for you will never be satiated."

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin smut #kaeya x reader #kaveh x reader #alhaitham x reader #childe x reader #genshin tartagalia #kaeya alberich #genshin kaveh #alhaitham smut #genshin x reader

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formulaforza · 9 months

Text

—the seasons of love

or: the enemies to lovers situationship fic charles leclerc x female reader summ. winter, the first time. the start of the year, the start of it all. minors dni, nsfw warnings under the cut. 7k words part two part three part four part five

18+ because: brat taming, fingering, oral (f receiving), name calling, spit, unprotected sex, overstimulation, booty call!, masturbation (f receiving), voyeurism, mad sass, fucking porn without plot basically.

There’s nothing special about the club scene in Monte Carlo. If you’ve been to a club in any major city, anywhere in the world, you’ve been to a club in Monaco. It’s all neon lights and kaleidoscope colors and poorly lit dance floors and mid-tier DJs who think they’re the next coming of Jesus.

Tonight is no exception. The air is thick and heavy with the scent of floral perfume and alcohol, the entire room shaking with the pulsating beat of the bass, reverberating off every single corner and shaking the liquor in your glass. Bodies move—yours included—half in sync with the music, half in step with their drunken stupor. Perched in the safety of Charles’s section, away from the swaying forms of laughter and shouting and screaming, your entire body thumps alone to the beat from the DJ booth a couple meters away.

Across the section, Charles sits stoic on a couch, taking up a seat and a half and frozen like some magnetic force. His eyes are stuck on you in a way that pulls goosebumps from your skin, makes you irrational angry at him. You’re feeling particularly bratty today, egged on by the tequila and his visible annoyance.

You’re on your way to interject into his pity party when your sister catches your arm, pulls you by your bicep to dance with her. Her palms are sweaty and cold and you hope that it’s the condensation from her cold glass that’s got her all clammy. The two of you have always been quite a sight after a few drinks. You get your tolerance from your mother, are both disastrous lightweights, feel the need to give any and everyone around you a show.

The two of you twirl to the music with little effort, laughing like you’re seven and the hazard littered floor under your feet is the old brown carpet from the family room you grew up hosting dance parties in. It’s all hair and giggles and hands in the air like you just don’t care. Everytime your glance catches his, he’s staring back, nursing his drink and half participating in a conversation with your brother-in-law and Jo.

“What’s his fucking problem?” you ask, leaning over to shout into your sister’s ear.

“He can’t dance,” she slurs. You snort. He can dance.

You whistle, loud and commanding and cat-call-ish even though he’s already watching you. “Charles! Get out here and dance, you fucking buzzkill!”

Your sister joins in on the fun, playfully swaying her hips to the music, tossing out an imaginary fishing line to her husband and reeling him over, calling along teasingly to Charles. “Yeah, show us what you’ve got, Il Predestinato!”

Charles rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. “I don’t dance,” he calls back with a soft chuckle. He tries to play it cool, like always, but everyone in the room knows you’re pushing his buttons. You always are. The reason he keeps you around is the same reason you stay around; your families’ relationship predates any animosity between the two of you. That, and the friend group was founded before you loathed each other and it would be too much work to try and split it up now. You’d probably never see Joris again.

You dance closer to him, putting on a dramatic show and a poor fight against the urge to continue challenging him. “Come on,” you tug on his arm, just out your bottom lip into a pretty little pout. “Live a little.”

He’s never been able to turn down one of your challenges, however thinly veiled they might be. It’s his own personal sore spot, the one that you poke and prod as often as you can. Competition has always been the foundation of your mutual annoyance, it’s not going to suddenly change after some eighteen years of consistency. Finally, he relents, lets you think you’re pulling him to his feet, dragging him to dance with you and your sister.

His moves are stiff and awkward, almost hard to watch. You laugh, because he’s wound up so fucking tight in two weeks you’d have a diamond. “See!?” your sister laughs, the contagion of it spreading to even the brunt of the joke. “I told you!” she continues, slinking her arm around her husband’s neck sloppily. His arm grips her side to hold her steady. It makes you feel sick.

A smirk tugs on his lips, and for a brief moment, there’s a hint of something more in his eyes. Not annoyance or frustration. Something seven, something innocent and childish. It’s fleeting, and you take a deep breath because the music feels quieter now. You down what’s left of your cocktail to clear your head, to calm the sudden flutter of nerves.

The more he drinks and the longer he’s forced to dance, the lighter and more magnetic he becomes. “You know, Charles, I never thought I’d see the day,” you tease. He’s been in a near constant state of pity-party for weeks now, ever since his dumb ass got dumped by another girl wildly out of his league.

He rolls his eyes, but his tone is as amused as it is drunk. “Don’t get too excited. It’s the liquor,” he retorts, a piss poor attempt at downplaying how much fun he’s having. He wouldn’t dare to give you the satisfaction. You lean in closer, brush your body against his, fueled by the noise and the alcohol.

“The liquor doing the touching, too?” you ask.

He’s always been a touchy drunk. Since before you and your friends were allowed to drink, he’s been hands-on. And maybe it’s because this is the first time he’s grabbing your hips, the first time his broad hand is flat over your stomach, but you’d never noticed him as this touchy with his girlfriends or his girls that appear when he’s around. Whatever it is, the more he drinks, the more comfortable he is with his hands on you, and the less you find the nerve to care.

It doesn’t matter how many times he does it, though. Every touch burns your skin. It’s a sick little game you two play. Sick and twisted and so, so unlike the two of you.

Watch yourself—he warns, hand on the small of your back. You play with fire. Well established and well documented, though; you never back down either. No, the thrill of annoying him is enough to dive head-first, to push his buttons until they stick. “Am I?” you ask, as innocently as the tequila can muster, taking hold of his wrist and moving it so his arm is wrapped around your midsection, fighting to settle in the space between your waistband and shirt hem.

You respond to every one of his careful touches, ever lingering finger on your arm and your waist and your back. When you close your eyes, you imagine the nonsense patterns he draws on your skin like it’s on canvas in a museum, hung front and center just for you. Your inhibitions are slipping too, and you let yourself trail wandering fingertips over his body, too.

This isn’t the Charles you’re used to, the one you go head-to-head with every fifteen minutes. This is something entirely new, so far into uncharted territory you’re not even sure which way is north. There’s something particularly intriguing about the nerves bouncing around your gut.

Everything fades away into the dark and crowded club. You don’t know if your sister and brother-in-law are still standing there, if any of your friends are. All you know if the electric charge of this, of every teasing remark and touch that draws you closer, forces you to test the waters of the newfound layer of tension.

Everything is building, it feels like, to some grand crescendo of emotion and desire. Before there’s room to explore it, though, to dive deeper into the unspoken shift, the moment is interrupted by the return of the friends you didn’t notice leaving.

The night drags on, the lines between annoyance and attraction blurring into some chaotic muddle of intoxication. Nothing is clear, nothing except the sobering and unignorable pull. It lingers in the air above you, in the space between like a secret just begging to be unraveled.

You’ve got another drink now, because you can only think of one decision that would be worse than more tequila. In due time, you’re worried you’re a lost cause when it comes to that choice as well. His eyes stay on you, even from a distance, and you revel in the glory of his attention. Embolden by it all, you continue fucking with him. “Having fun yet, Charles?” you ask, knowing smile, voice dripping in subtle suggestion.

He raises a brow, the corners of his lips quirking up. You don’t think you’ve ever spent much time looking at them, the soft shade of pink and the softer skin. “I suppose I can tolerate it,” he replies with teasing eyes. He’s irritated by your laugh, by your proximity, by your lips brushing against his ear when you whisper; you’re not the only one here trying to have fun. His jaw tightens but he doesn’t take your bait. Instead, he pulls you closer, sways in rhythm with you and replies, “I’m here to enjoy myself, not entertain you.”

He sends your brattiness running full-tilt. Forces you to carefully consider every movement, every ounce of playfulness that you allow to seep into your demeanor and the proactive sway of your hips. You grin at him every chance you get, sly and calculated, daring him to resist.

You lean in close, brush against his ear and can blame it on practicality, on the bass and the music and the DJ if anyone were to question your actions. You rest a hand on his chest. “I know you love my attention.”

His breath hitches at your audacity, heart racing so quick you can feel it in your palm. He pulls you closer, dangerously close to your lips and says, “you talk too much. Maybe it’s time someone shuts you up.”

You scoff, low and teasing. “I’d like to see you try.”

[18 minutes later]

You step into the well-lit lobby less than a pace behind him. Your hands are interlocked, have been for every block of the darkened streets—since he grabbed yours and pulled you out of the club. “Admit it,” you giggle. “You love having me push your buttons.”

He remains stoic, jaw set as he pushes the button on the elevator. The tension is at a boiling point. You’re either about to kill each other, to be on the news for some grand double murder, or something so, so much worse is going to unfold.

He leads you to the apartment without a word, but as soon as the door closes behind him, all is lost. Your head is bumping into the drywall before you even realize what’s happening, his lips harsh against yours, the pent up frustration and desire snapping like a dried twig.

It’s fierce and passionate and while you never, not for a single moment in your life, imagined what he would taste like, you somehow knew it would be like this, cool and fresh and drunk. He licks into your mouth, messy and intense, teeth clacking and both of you fighting for some nonexistent upper hand.

Fireworks are going off outside. They shake the windows with explosive gravitas as you’re blindly led by his backwards steps down the hallway. You realize that in an entire lifetime of knowing each other, this is the first time you’ve been in his place. It’s not what you expected, from what you can gather—all clutter and red cars and a boy who never had to drop his dream. “They’re going to look for us,” you say between sloppy, open mouthed kisses.

He mumbles against your skin, strong hands on either side of your jaw. “Let them look.”

You walk through a doorway, into a bedroom clad with clutter and blue sheets. He would have blue sheets. There’s another firework, loud and booming, it makes you jump. You check your watch over his shoulder, pretend your hand doesn’t shake. “It’s almost midnight.”

“Okay.” Your knees bump into his and he sits on the edge of the bed.

You laugh, climb onto his lap, your arms strewn around his shoulders, broad and strong and you laugh again–this time into his mouth. What the fuck is going on. Seriously, what the fuck is this? “Happy New Year.”

He sighs, pulls his mouth from yours long enough to roll his eyes, to speak annoyedly into the hot air between your lips. “Yeah, whatever. Happy New Year.”

“Charles,” you mutter, hand on his chest. You think he’s going to regret this more than you will. People have always told you he’s the best kind of person. You’re not held in the same regard, and you know it. Some people are made to regret and others are made to be the regret.

“Jesus Christ,” he laughs, but it’s curt and passive. Annoyed, as always, even when he palms at your ass, traces his hands along the bottom of your hiked up dress and pulls you down against him with a bruising grip. “Shut the fuck up.” You tug at the hem of his shirt, pull it off over his head in a swift movement.

“You’re doing a piss-poor job at making me.”

He moves you like you’re a fucking doll, like it’s lightwork, tossing you down against the mattress and swapping your positions in a swift movement. The strength and agility of it makes your head spin. He’s not supposed to make your head spin, he’s supposed to make it ache.

But no, no. You do ache for him. All of you aches for him, for his calloused hands and the roughness of his jeans against your thighs and the soft contrast of his lips against everything else. It’s embarrassing. You can’t believe he’s got you like this, hands pinned above your head while he buries his tongue in your mouth, grinds his hips against yours. The coarse denim is almost painful on your sensitive skin, but the growing bulge pulling the fabric tight is more intoxicating than any cocktail.

“You’re such a fucking brat,” he says, bites a bruise against the skin just above your clavicle. “Spoiled little shit.”

He sinks to his knees, big blue or green or whatever fucking color his eyes are today watching you intently, boring into you with blown, hungry pupils. His fingers trail along your underwear, pulling the thin, lacey fabric to the side, and then removes them all together. He gloats when he runs his thumb through your folds. “So fucking wet.”

“It’s not for you,” you goad.

“Oh?” He nods slowly, spreading your slick with the steady digit, watching you carefully for reaction. “For who then?”

Your eyes flutter shut when the pad of his thumb presses against your clit, circles it slowly, teases you. He’s unfocused, his mind lapsing and giving you a much needed in, a clear shot to piss him off. “Your teammate.”

“Fuck off.” You first.

“You’re right, Charles,” you speak slowly, careful to control your breathing, to hide every tell you might have. “Someone should shut me up. Do you know anyone?” Without warning, he thrusts two fingers inside you, curls them like someone had given him a diagram of your body. You gasp at the suddenness of it all. Yeah, he mutters, utterly delighted with himself. Yeah, I think I know someone.

You roll your eyes, push his head down, down, mouth onto your core. There, in the midst of licking a long stripe through your cunt, he fucking laughs, shakes his head with a subtlety you’d never perceive if it wasn’t for the tip of his nose bumping your clit when he does it. At least he can follow basic fucking instructions.

His dick must hurt pretty damn bad, all hard and swollen in his pants, because he’s unbuttoning his jeans and freeing himself from the constraints of the fabric while lapping at you, the other hand still fucking into you with steady pace and hazy curl. You can’t see it, view obstructed by the mattress and limbs and hair, but you can tell by the way his shoulders move that he’s trying to get himself off at the same time he works on you.

You’re not going to make his job that easy. You require all of his attention, pure and undivided and hopefully just as infuriated as you are. You reach down to the apex of your legs, pull his head up by his chin. “Just fuck me, already, you prick.”

He rises to his feet, shakes his head, “you’re a needy little thing,” he remarks. Needy? You haven’t fucking seen needy.

He guides the head of his cock through your folds, spreading slick and spit and smacking himself against your cunt.

Your lips purse into a sharp line. “Don’t tease me.”

“Why not?” He taunts, “you’ve been teasing for hours.”

“It’s different,” you grumble.

“How?” You could strangle him, him and all his questions. What’s a person have to do to get fucked properly around here? You already sacrified your morals by pulling tight against the navy blue sheets. A woman can only make so many sacrifices.

You groan, heavy and exasperated. He’s such a pest. “It just–oh, fuck you–” without warning, he plunges into you, buries himself in your cunt until he bottoms out, skin on skin and the sore sting of him stretching you. Your fingers bruise into his arms, nails scraping over his shoulder blades with a gasp. He gives you no time to adjust to him, rutting into you with deep, measured thrusts. What was that, he prodes. Somehow, you find the poise to stabilize yourself, to reply smugly. “it just is.”

His objective isn’t your pleasure, no. That would be his prerogative, a side privilege, a requirement in his quest to get you to close your mouth and stop pestering for once. Making you come is just another box to check.

You don’t fuck someone if you’re not going to finish, though. Sleeping with Charles might be a lapse in judgment, but being someone’s play toy, letting him reap without sowing, that’s a complete disregard of your dignity

Your fingers find your clit, circle it in just the right sequence, combining with the curve of his cock to push you closer, closer, closer to the edge of the fucking world. Your entire body burns, everywhere, all over, all at once you sweat. Tell me–he insists, voice short and breathy. Tell me when you’re going to come. “I thought you were trying to shut me up?”

“Just, fuck, just tell me.” He palms over your breasts, still covered by your bra and the fabric of your dress, however thin. “So many fucking clothes,” he grumbled, stalling inside you, hands slipping under your back, between you at the mattress to pull you off the bed. You hastily pull the dress over your head, toss it somewhere onto the clothing cluttered floor. Better? You ask. “Better,” he nods, bites your bottom lip roughly, licking against your teeth. One of the hands that explore the skin of your back make quick work of the clasp on your bra, dropping the straps from your shoulders and your back is against the sheets again, his hands groping at you, pinching your nipple between his middle and ring finger, working over it until you’re humming profanities and huffing into his mouth.

Hate and desire is such a fine, blurry line. Anyone who tells you differently is a liar.

“M’gonna,” you choke on your words. “I’m–shit–I’m coming.”

“Yeah,” He picks up his pace, maintains a steady, toe-curling rhythm. “Come for me,” his voice heavy and growled. “Come on my dick.”

You do. You come for him, hard and long, wrapping a leg around his hip in a failed attempt to still him, to just be full of him and nothing more. He’s stronger, though, and fucks you through the whole thing, faster, harder, big hands braced on your hips for leverage. You explore the idea that a person really could be fucked in half, forced right open.

“Good try,” you sputter, shaky and broken words leaving your lips before you’ve found a gravity that isn’t him. You lean up to kiss him, wrap your hand around the back of his neck and pull him to meet you halfway. Your fingers tickle the short hair at the nape of his neck, raise goosebumps to his skin. “Maybe next time,” you hum into his open mouth.

He spits a long string of saliva into your mouth when you move to close the gap. You laugh around it, down it in a single gulp and lick your lips, sticking out your tongue to showcase your empty mouth, big innocent doe-eyes watching his reaction, his eye roll and devilish smirk.

“Like I said–” you start, but he’s flipping you over, tossing you around like a ragdoll. You giggle, high on the teasing and the taunting and then he’s fucking your face into the mattress. He’s got your hair gathered up into a ratty ponytail, uses it like a handle, forcing your back into an arch, your ass to perk up into the air.

God, he’s so fucking deep, turning you into a mess of bruises and sweat stricken skin. Your hips bounce back against him, angle in any imaginable way in an attempt to feel him deeper, to feel him in your stomach and your chest and your head. To feel him everywhere that counts.

“Putain, taking me so good, baby” he groans, lets the praise and the pet name slipping past his lips in a moment that goes unnoticed by neither of you. He smacks your ass with a firm hand, trying to mask his words after they’ve already been spoken. Your eyes roll back into your head and you come again, without warning. You decide before you get to think about it that it was the stinging imprint of his hand that pushed you tumbling over the edge. Whatever the real reason, you’re up two-nothing, or, depending how you look at it, he’s the one winning.

That’s all any of this is, one big game. A power struggle. You’re always fighting to win, and this is not different. If there’s a way to lose at a game where everyone is supposed to win, one of you is going to fucking find it and force it on the other.

You’re the one doing the flipping, now. The pushing and the shoving so he’s on his back. You straddle him and he gives you this look like he’s fully pussy-drunk, sick and euphoric and floating somewhere far from here. You’re so winning at this. “Jesus Christ,” you poke, “wipe your fucking drool.”

His entire face contorts when you sink down onto him. Everytime you think you’ve reached a limit, he finds a way to hit a spot impossibly deeper than the last. His hips lift up off the bed to meet you halfway, rutting into pleasure spots you didn’t even know you had, hand moving to your cunt, thumbing lazily at your clit, leaving you fuzzy and drunk in a mess of mumbled moans above him.

When you come for the third time, messy and sweaty, nothing that leaves your lips is distinguishable, a mess of French and English and curses and nonsensical mewls. “Fuck you,” he moans, breath shaky when he pulls himself out of you. Your body clenches around air, aches for him to return.

He does, after he moves you back into the position it all started in. “So close,” he tells you, sinking slowly into you, his sigh hot and alcoholic on your shoulder. His pace is slow, then fast, then slow again. He’s as rapid as his breath is irregular. You better pull out–you groan, every muscle in your body strung out and exhausted and you’re coming again. It’s blinding white behind your closed lids, ears ringing and muscles flexing involuntarily. He’s wrecked you, finally, left you a mumbling mess.

He pulls out almost in sync with your orgasm, jerks himself no more than twice between your legs before he’s coating your stomach in hot stripes of cum, loud, guttural moans leaving his lips in a way that looks and sounds practically pained. “Christ,” he heaves, watches on as your fingers dance through his orgasm, spreading it over your skin and coating your fingers. You don’t break eye contact when you stick two of them into your mouth, swirl your tongue around them tauntingly, sucking them clean and pulling them from your mouth with a pop. You hold the clean hand up for him to see, palm facing him. When you turn it, you pull down all but your middle finger, flip him off cockily.

He swats you hand away, “Never fucking again,” he tells you.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about me,” you scoff. “I never want to see the inside of this apartment again.”

“Why are you here, then?” He remarks, turning the corner into what you assume is the bathroom, tossing a towel to you from across the room. You clean yourself up before anything dries, before coming up with a quick rebuttal.

You don’t come up with one, mind as tired as the rest of you. This game has been exhausting. “We’re never talking about this,” you say, pulling your dress over your head, stuffing your bra into your handbag because you aren’t sure you have the strength to clasp it closed. “Ever.”

“No shit,” he says, tosses your underwear in the general direction of you.

You bend over to pick them up, step into them with the snap of the elastic. “Promise me.” You have no idea where your shoes are, but he’s already ushering you out of the room, herding you down the long hall with wide, swooping waves of his arms.

“I promise.”

“Pinky,” you say, spot your shoes haphazardly stepped out of in the entryway. You don’t have any memory of them ever being on.

“Absolutely not.”

“Charles,” you lean against the wall to slip your heels on, hook up at him with a sober glare. He closes his eyes like you won’t be able to see them roll behind his lids, pinches the bridge of his nose and squints before dropping a heavy breath, holding out a pinky to you. You interlock it with yours. “Thank you.”

He pulls his hand from yours, turns the lock on his front door and swings it open, fingers wrapped around the edge, other hand gesturing out into the hallway. “Get the fuck out of my house.”

“With pleasure,” you say, stepping past him and into the well-lit hallway of sprawling marble floors. You stop in front of the elevator, press the button and wait for his inevitable comment.

“The whole brat-schtick you’ve got going on isn’t as believable when your leg shakes underneath you,” he calls down the hall. You don’t turn your head to face him, just extend your arm in his direction and flip him off. You hear his chuckle as he latches the door shut behind you.

Everything about today has been dreary–from the near constant mist that falls over the city, to the chilly temperatures, to the poor excuses for men that grace the screen of your dating app. This is not how Fridays in your twenties are meant to be spent, sulking in the dark of your bedroom after a miserable day at work.

You’re supposed to be out, partying with friends and making drunken decisions that have you waking up in a stranger’s bed after a good night you hardly remember.

God, you need to get fucked. It’s been months. Two months and ten days–not that you’re counting. Because you’re not. Counting. You aren’t.

You’re just restless, basking in the loneliness of the night, unable to shake the weight of your thoughts, of two months and ten days ago. Of Charles and how infuriatingly good he’d made you feel. The complexities of your relationship, the shift in the very DNA of what you know, it makes your heart race–a messy muddle of annoyance and desire that yearns to be untangled.

You give up on the dating apps, know that even if you do match with someone, there’s nothing that can be done to solve your problem tonight. You opt instead to scroll through social media aimlessly, searching for any distraction from the ache in your gut. Your hand unconsciously slips under the hem of your shirt, cups your breast while you scroll and scroll and scroll. It does little to quell your struggles. In fact, the game is over the moment you become conscious of your hand’s placement, the moment you start to massage your breast, to run your fingers over your nipple until it’s hard and perky.

You switch to the other breast, fingers gently tracing over the skin, sending chills up your arms, pinpointing the ache in your core. Your hand slides down your stomach, dips below the waistband of your shorts, into your underwear. You’re so worked up–pent up, reaching a boiling point.

Your middle finger glides through your folds, grazes over your clit, teases the slick at your entrance before dipping in, collecting enough to spread it around. Your clit is swollen, needy like the rest of you, and the pad of your fingers do little to relieve the pressure. Your fingers move clockwise, then counter. Vertical and horizontal and every combination of every direction and even though you can’t remember the last time you were this horny, this desperate to come, you can’t.

You slip in a finger, and then another, try to find the right curl and the right spot–to no avail. Now, you’re thinking about his fingers, about how much bigger his hands are, how his nimble fingers pumped in and out of you with sheet-gripping, whimper-inducing pace.

Your phone taunts you, his contact behind the locked screen just waiting to be messaged.

You try to resist. You hate him. He hates you. God, he knows how to fuck you, though; veiny hands and thick cock leaving you a writhing mess. Fuck. Fuck, why can’t your fingers move the way his did?

You cave, reaching over to grab your phone and text him. Hey. What are you up to tonight? It’s a mistake, you know that it is. He’s so damn annoying, there’s nothing about him that doesn’t drive you up a wall. Frustration makes the heart go fonder, you suppose, or maybe the cunt ache harder.

Within moments, your phone is buzzing against your palm with his reply. Chilling at home. You coming over?

You roll your eyes. No.

Ok.

You bite your bottom lip so hard you think you might accidentally draw blood. It’s phantom, almost, the way you can so perfectly imagine the sting of him stretching you out, the soreness of his bruising kisses, the swollen, wet head of his dick slapping against your clit. Come over.

You couldn’t pay me.

Door’s unlocked.

Give me 20.

You’re in the bedroom when he knocks. Three times, you wonder why he isn’t just walking in. You ignore the banging, let the universe decide for you if he’s meant to turn back and walk his happy ass out of your building. The universe decides he won’t be doing that, though, because he knocks again. Louder this time.

You pull yourself out of bed, feet creaking on the hardwood floors as you move to pull the door open. “I told you it was unlocked,” you grumble.

“Eh,” he shrugs, dumb fucking grin on his face. “Wasn’t up for your games.”

You internally debate just how bad you need him here, if it’s worth all the trouble that is him. It’s not, almost certainly it isn’t. You invite him in anyway.

“So, what’s the deal? Can’t get yourself off, so you call me?” He teases. Your frustrated blush gives you away before a witty comeback can slap the smirk off his face. “Oh my god,” he chuckles. “I was fucking around, but really?”

There’s no point in trying to lie now, not when your face has already betrayed your trust and revealed the truth. “Calm down,” you groused. “The last thing this world needs if your head to get any fucking bigger.”

He continues laughing like this is the funniest thing that’s ever happened to him. You want to smack the smile off his face, dimples and all. “The last thing this world needs is for this–” he gestures between the two of you, “–to become a thing.”

You mock his movements, the dumb look on his face. “This is not a thing. It’s just two friends–”

“–We aren’t friends.”

You sigh through gritted teeth. “Two not friends helping each other out.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, chews on the inside of his cheek while his eyes trace your finger, head to toe and back to head again. “You do know how ridiculous you sound, right?”

You breathe out in resignation, heading down the hall towards your room. “Can we just get on with it?”

“No.”

You stop in your tracks, turn on your heels. What the fuck is he here for, then? “No?” You close the gap between the two of you, plant your hands firmly on either side of his jaw and kiss him, all tongue and spit and rough lips. You knock him off balance, falling out of step when he kisses you back with a matching intensity, hands hovering over your hips. He doesn’t rest them there, you can feel the warmth in the space between your skin and his, the force that pulls you together.

When he does settle his hands, it’s not to deepen the kiss, to swallow any more frustration. It’s to put distance between your mouths. “I want you to–”

You nibble on his earlobe, cut him off with your hushed words. “I don’t give a fuck what you want, I want–”

“Show me how you touch yourself,” he commands, voice failing to waiver to your hushed level, an air of snugness to him.

“Charles,” your voice cracks with his name, a hint of your under the surface insecurity peeking through, putting themselves on display for him. Here! Here! Look at me!

“Show me, or I’m leaving,” he says, and it’s all throaty and husky.

(Eleven minutes later)

Legs spread for him, two fingers moving busily against your core, circling your clit, teasing your hole.

He stares at you like he can see your fucking soul, watches from his spot across the room, leant against the old wooden dresser, arms folded and ankles crossed. You stare back–harder, maybe–like if you win the little contest your cheeks won’t burn so bright, you won’t feel so exposed, so vulnerable, so embarrassed.

Those feelings fade, they do, with each flick of your wrist. With every glance of his hungry eyes to your fingers, to your cunt, tracing their way up and down your body, you feel calmer and calmer. And when he runs his hand over his mouth, along the stubble of his jaw and off his chin, you’re closer and closer.

It pulls whimpers, soft and slow and sweet, from your lips. There’s a sick thrill to it, to him seeing her like this, all needy and open and sensitive. It’s empowering, almost.

He breaks no more than twice, watches every brow quirk, lid flutter, and lip twitch with raw, intimate eyes. He’s less interested in what you do to yourself, the curve of your fingers or the noises they create, than he is in the way you react to the movements.

“You’re not even fucking watching,” you say, the letter sounds falling to your breath, hitching as your fingers angle just right.

“Watching what matters.”

“Oh? And, uh–” you huff. “What’s that?”

He laughs, dimples digging deep into his cheeks. You’ve always thought they made his smile so childish, like you can’t take anything seriously when it comes from someone with primary-school dimples and giddy eyes. You don’t struggle to take it seriously, now. “You’re thinking about me.”

Your eyes flutter shut, a soft sigh parting your lips. “Says who?”

He pushes himself off the dresser, saunters over with heavy feet, stopping at the foot of the bed. “What are you thinking about?” He humors.

Your eyes roll. You’re thinking about a lot of things. Half a dozen, atleast. About your fingers, the way they move against your swollen cunt, sticky with creamy slick, and how his fingers are that much longer than yours. About how loud he walks, how his heavy feet stand at the end of your bed, crossed arms that pull his t-shirt tight across his chest. About the fact that you’re not sure you locked the door behind him because you were so distracted by the way his sweatpants hung from his waist. About how he doesn’t bother to adjust or hide the protruding bulge under the fabric right now. About the curve of his cock, about how pathetic and full it makes you, utterly unable to spend time thinking about anything but how well he stretches you out. About his hair, flat and straight and wholly unstyled, how your hands would mess it up so nicely, tug and twist until he has something smart to say. Beyond frustratingly, he’s right. As you quickly approach a high, breath quickened and movements desperate, all you’re thinking about is him. “Things.”

“Mmhmm,” he hums, ever the rake, unsatisfied with your response.

You add a third finger, steady pace and a held stare. The muscles in your leg twitch. You’re so fucking close. “What are you thinking about?”

He sways, rocks his weight from his left foot to the right, runs his tongue over his teeth. “Things.”

A coy smile upturns the corner of your lips. “Mmhmm,” you mock.

He moves around the bed, trails his fingers over your skin; from your ankle, along the bone of your shin, a bruise on your knee. They stall on your thigh, trace small, soft circles on the inside of your leg. “You really want to know?”

He’s such a tease, keeps moving up, up, up, over your stomach and through the valley of your breast. “I–ah– I,” you stutter through your words, fingers working tirelessly to push you over the edge. Restless, further irritated by his delicate touch, his fingers up to your jaw now, slotting themselves there, you nod. “Yes.”

He leans over you, your lips inches apart, open and hot breathed. “Too bad,” he whispers into the space between, closing the gap and kissing you with an insatiable kind of fervor. Your fingers still, your other hand reaching to grip the back of his neck, to pull him deeper into the kiss. It’s a kiss that’s half as good as the sex, the breaking of the unbearable tension that’s filled the room while he’s watched, the promise of what’s to come. A lustful implication. His hand leaves your jaw when you pull apart for air, moving over your stilled hand. “Let me?” He asks, and it doesn’t feel like much of a question, the way he’s already slipping his fingers under yours before you can even squeak out an answer.

There’s something entirely different about his fingers, like the way that you can’t tickle yourself. You can’t predict his moves, every movement of every ridge of his fingerprints is something entirely surprising. “Yeah, fuck, you make, ah, make yourself…” You give up on the sentence, your body failing your mind in its ability to spit out a comeback. Yeah, you wish you could tell him. Yeah, make yourself fucking useful.

He laughs, slides his long middle finger inside you, pumps it twice and slips in another. You gasp at his sudden movement. “You’re embarrassing yourself, baby.”

Your back arches off the sheets. “Don’t call me that,” you seethe.

“But,” he curls his fingers against the spot you’ve been trying to reach all night. A moan tumbles from your mouth and he smirks. “It makes my job so easy.”

“Fuck you.”

“I was going to let you come first, but,” he chuckles. He’s so proud of himself it makes you ill. “If you insist.”

His hand stills, threatens to pull out of you entirely, but you’re covering it with your own, holding him there when you look up, hips instinctively grinding against him. “I’ll kill you. I will.”

You’re pushing him out of your apartment by the end of night, locking the door behind him. Your leg shakes when you slide down the door onto the floor. This is the last time, it has to be. Once is an accident, twice is a coincidence. Thrice. Thrice would be a pattern. You won’t let it become a pattern.

You wake up at seven-thirty and your hair is still in knots, your body still aching from him. You find a new bruise every time you look in the mirror. You can’t shake the image of his messy hair, of the feeling of the brown locks between your fingers and the sound he’d make when you’d tug on them.

It won’t be happening again.

#oi #this is getting me sent to hell.#charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc series #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #cl16 #charles leclerc imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 x you #ferrari

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darby-rowe · 4 months

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18+ | nsfw | mdni young!sub!coriolanus snow x fem!dom!reader cw sub coryo, reader in lingerie, slight degradation & humiliation, mommy kink, premature ejaculation, not proofread based on this ask. -- hope you like it, anon!

“And here’s the third set I bought,” you say as you re-enter the bedroom, wearing a baby-pink lingerie set adorned with tiny bows and ribbons. You stand in front of Coriolanus, showing off your body in ways that you know will make him tick. You witness in real time his control slipping away, as prior to your little fashion show, you had ordered Coryo to not touch you nor himself under any circumstance. You have to suppress a smirk as you watch him grip the bed sheets, his mind switching between spreading his legs or crossing his legs, as either position brought him great discomfort.

You twirl for him, revealing how the lingerie set hugged the contours of your body so perfectly. “What do you think, honey?” you ask, your voice dripping with innocence as if you have no idea of the effect your body had on Coriolanus.

But you know. You know damn well.

Coriolanus swallows hard. “You look wonderful,” he chokes out, fidgeting on the bed. “That’s a very pretty color on you, my dear. You have quite the eye for… l-lingerie,”

You beam at him. “Why thank you! I definitely think my boobs look the best in this set, don’t you think?” You cup your breasts and lean forward so Coriolanus could fully view their shape. You know exactly what you’re doing.

You can tell that Coriolanus is close to losing his composure, letting your eyes flick down to his crotch to marvel at the outline of his painfully hard erection. You hum with delight as you knead at your breasts to prolong Coriolanus’s agony. “Don’t my boobs just look sooo good, baby? You wanna touch ‘em real quick?”

Coriolanus’s legs twitch as a shaky hand slowly advances towards your breasts, which you obviously swat away with a giggle. “You really thought I was gonna let you touch my tits?” you tut. “No baby. Not right now,”

Coriolanus begins to pant, his mind going dumb with desperation. “Please,” he whines. “Please let me touch you,”

You stand back up, folding your hands behind your back so your chest pops out fully. “Please what, baby? Please what?”

He swallows hard once more, his breath shaky. “Please… mommy, p-please let me touch you. I need to touch you, mommy,”

Aw, what a pathetic, needy little boy Coriolanus is. The way his body trembles – so jittery – at the thought of touching you; running his hands all over your body, cupping your breasts and ass, running his tongue down your pelvis to your soaking wet folds, and then finally pumping his cock so deep inside your cunt that your cervix is sore for days. And you are denying him of that fantasy just because you find it fun.

“I have one more set to show you, baby – just be patient,” you coo as you leave the bedroom to change your lingerie. You then re-enter wearing a maroon-colored set, complete with a thong, stockings, and a bra that barely covers your breasts.

Coriolanus looks like he’s about to lose his fucking mind. You were so sexy, so fuckable, and all he wanted to do was bury his aching hard dick deep inside your tight cunt. You make sure to go extra slow this time with showing off the lingerie, hearing how Coriolanus’s panting turns to frustrated grunts and whimpers. You mold your hands against the contours of your body, running them up your sides and over your breasts.

“How’s this one, bunny?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“Mmmng, fuck, mommy I can’t take it,” Coriolanus whimpers, his legs fidgeting as he tries to deal with the throbbing in between his legs. “Wanna– wanna fuck you so hard, and come all over your lingerie,”

You blow air out of your mouth in a half-chuckle. “You must be losing your mind if you think for one second that I’m letting you blow your load all over this set. This wasn’t cheap,”

“Sorry,” he stutters, his hips making small circles. “Mommy, it hurts. My cock hurts. So hard,”

You place your hands on the bed as you lean in close towards his face, staring him deep in his pretty blue eyes. “You have no idea how hot it is that you get so hard just from staring at me,” you purr, and you swear you could feel the heat of his arousal emitting from between his legs. “God, you’re so fucking pretty. Mommy’s pretty little bunny, just squirming and whining because his dick is so hard. I bet you’d love it if you could bury your cock deep inside my warm, wet, tight cunt,”

Coriolanus just whines. “Mommy, please…”

“Please what?”

“Please let me fuck you,” his voice comes out in tiny whimpers. You swear he’s on the verge of tears, his panting growing quicker. “I wanna fuck your pussy. Feel you squeezing on my cock. Please, please, I wanna fuck you, mommy. I wanna fuck you. I wanna fuck you…!”

It’s almost as if you don’t have to put in any effort in this relationship at all as you watch Coriolanus buck his hips and mewl pathetically as a wet spot appears on his pants, and the sight of him giving into his dirty thoughts is so fucking hot.

“Aww, baby,” you coo, tucking one of his stray curls behind his ear. You place a soft kiss on his forehead. “You’ll get to fuck me next time, I promise,”

don't be shy, let's talk. ♡

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #darbyrowe.doc #asks open #ask me anything #OK IM GONNA HEAD TO BED NOW NIGHT NIGHT

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lxkeee · 3 months

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I'M IN THE WIND, YOU'RE IN THE WATER

PART ONE

—Angel! Lucifer Morningstar x Mermaid! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Fanfiction/Romance with slight angst

Synopsis: what if there are other supernatural beings that existed alongside angels?

Notes: If only I wasn't lazy in making my titles have ombre colors I would've had pretty colorful titles rn>:(

PART TWO | PART THREE

Long before humans, supernaturals have already existed. One of these are the angels.

Lucifer was a curious angel, one of the first angels that was created by God. One of the most beautiful angels to have ever existed and one of the few who has the purest of hearts and intentions. Three pairs of wings adorning his back.

Despite his good intentions, the elders do not agree to his way of thinking as they think his ideas are a threat to the order they tried so hard to maintain.

With this, he was often alone as the other angels tend to avoid him.

So most of his time, he often flies around the vast lands of the earth. Getting his mind away from spiraling into insanity.

Lucifer wonders about the other supernatural beings, he knows they exist but he hasn't met one though.

One of the kinds he wanted to meet were the mermaids, he read about them when he spent his time in the heaven library. He thinks they are fascinating and beautiful based on the descriptions written on the books.

Oftentimes, he made sure to fly nearby the ocean waters. Enough that his body barely touched the cold water.

Unfortunately, he hasn't made any progress in seeing one with his own two eyes.

He sighs as he twirls in the air, large majestic wings flapping to keep his body in the air. His reflection is mirrored by the sparkling sea water. The light blue skies as his background, white fluffy clouds passing by his body. Strong winds caressing his face. A gentle smile on his face. He loves flying so much, he's free.

Folding his wings back, allowing his body to dive down. Spreading it once more to stop himself from diving into the cold ocean water, the gust of wind made by his wings made small splashes in the water.

He maintained this distance, his body a few inches away from the water. Keeping his body stable as he glides through the air.

A laugh escaping his lips, the angel genuinely enjoying this pastime of his.

Somewhere in the distance, a splash was heard. Catching his attention, his eyes whipping in the direction of the sound. His eyes widened when he could see a light blue and dark blue ombre colored mermaid tail splashing through the water and disappearing once more down to the depths.

A mermaid!

The discovery was enough for him to lose his focus as his wings stuttered. Making him fall into the cold ocean water. Halo disappeared when he made contact with the water.

His eyes widened in panic, his wings would be soaked and that means he couldn't fly. He could feel his body getting heavier as his clothes got dense from the water. He struggled to keep himself afloat, his wings adding a weight for him to carry.

Water begins to fill his lungs as he struggles to breathe, his consciousness begins to slowly fade away. Before his world was enveloped with total darkness, he swore he could see a blurry figure swimming towards him.

[y/n] groaned in annoyance, she just went for a small swim. She didn't expect to see an angel and she surely didn't expect the dumbass to fall into the water.

Watching as the angel struggled to swim upwards, she sighs softly to herself as she began to swim towards the drowning male. Worry in her heart when she saw him close his eyes.

Catching him into her arms, his head on her shoulder. Keeping him steady as she swam upwards, her powerful light blue and dark blue ombre tail moving against the current.

Their heads are finally out to the surface, [y/n] turns her head around—left and right as she looks for a nearby land. Finally seeing one, an island a few distance away from them.

The angel is still unconscious in her arms, carrying both of them against the current. Making sure his head remained on the surface. To avoid more water getting into his lungs. Her gills open slightly as she breathes in the oxygen in the surface.

Finally arriving at the shore, she drags the heavy angel. Muttering something in her language, annoyance in her voice.

She finally managed to bring him to dry land, the angel was a mess, his light blond hair all over his face. Moving away his hair so she could perform CPR on the male, as she did so. She pauses.

He's... He's beautiful.

Red circles adorning his pale cheeks, highlighting his beautiful angelic face. Plump and soft lips.

[y/n] shakes her head to shake off the intrusive thoughts. Pressing her hands against his chest, pushing it so the water in his lungs would be pushed out.

Tucking her long hair behind her ear as she leans down, pressing her lips against his and breathing back oxygen back into his lungs.

Removing her lips from his, she returns to pumping his chest again to remove the water and then once more pressing her lips against his to give him air.

The taste of salty sea water fills his throat as he finally coughs, coughing out the water that filled his lungs. His ear finally registering different sensations around him—the familiar feeling of sand against his skin, the sound of the ocean waves hitting the shore.

He breathes heavily, trying to catch his breath as he opens his eyes to see.

A very gorgeous woman in front of him.

That surprises him, causing him to jolt upwards.

Accidentally headbutting her in the process.

“Ow!”

“Ouch!”

Both of them yelled in pain, their foreheads aching from the impact.

“Is that how angels treat their saviors?” the girl asked, eyebrows furrowed as she glared at him slightly. Her hand rubbing the painful area on her forehead.

Lucifer finally got a good look at her, she's beautiful. Like an out of this world beautiful.

His eyes landed on the gills and light blue scales on her neck, his eyes widened as he finally remembers why he drowned.

His eyes moved downwards to her body to see the large and majestic beautiful light blue and dark blue ombre mermaid tail on her body.

Though, heat filled his cheeks as he realized the girl was naked.

Avoiding her gaze, hand on his collar as it suddenly felt tight than usual.

“Sorry and thank you for saving me.” he says shyly and the girl just raised an eyebrow. Finding the angel cute, especially when she knows he got shy when he realizes she's topless.

“It is no problem, though, make sure not to drown yourself while flying.” she says with a deadpan making Lucifer cover his face with his hand in embarrassment.

“Sorry, you just caught me off guard that's all. Normally, I'm not that careless.” he explained shyly, [y/n] raising an eyebrow at him.

“So it's my fault you almost drowned then?” she asked with a small glare, Lucifer began to panic and [y/n] laughs softly.

“I am just teasing you.” she says with a smile, her laugh reminding him of the soft bells that often ring in heaven that were pleasant to listen to.

Lucifer's tensed shoulders relaxed as he calmed down.

“I am really sorry for being reckless.” he apologizes sincerely and the mermaid smiled softly at him.

“No worries, though, I have a favor to ask you.” she says and Lucifer raised an eyebrow, “What is it?”

“May I know the name of the angel I just saved?” she asked him, giving him a close eyed smile.

He blushed slightly and smiled, “Lucifer, Lucifer Morningstar.” he introduced himself.

“Lucifer Morningstar, what a beautiful name for someone as beautiful as you.” She says with a smile, the compliment making Lucifer's cheeks heat up more. How befitting for him, Morningstar. The star you can see during earliest dawn.

“Nice to meet you Lucifer, my name is [y/n], [y/n] Soleil.” she introduces herself.

Soleil, that means sun. How fitting for someone like her, she looks like she shines the brightest like the sun.

“Nice to meet you, [y/n].” he says, gently holding her hand and placing a kiss on her knuckle.

[y/n]'s cheeks heat up slightly. Heart beating erratically.

Both of their hearts are thumping so loudly against their ribcages.

They spent most of the day by the sandy shore, [y/n] keeping him company as he dried himself.

They have gotten to know each other, having a similar mindset and interests. Made them bond.

The sun was finally setting on the horizon, the shades of orange, pink, blue, yellow, and red adorned the ocean as the sun finally kissed the sea.

Lucifer has finally dried himself up, his wings now lightweight now that it's dry.

The day has finally come to an end. Standing up from where he was sitting.

Both of them know that they finally need to say their goodbyes.

“I... I need to go now...” Lucifer whispers hesitantly and [y/n] smiled, lacing her hand with his to give it an assuring squeeze.

“I know, it has been truly fun spending the day with you. If you want to hang out again, I'm just swimming around these areas. So you know where to find me.” she says with a wink at him making him smile.

“I'll keep that in mind, I'll see you around [y/n]. Farewell.” he says sadly, spreading his wings and finally took off. He looks back down to see her returning to the water.

Her tail disappearing back into the deep depths.

Her head popping back out into the surface, he could see her waving at him and he waved back.

Both of them left at the same time. Maybe they'll see each other soon.

TAGLIST:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex

#lucifer morningstar x reader #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer magne #lxkeee answers #hazbin hotel x reader #lxkeee updates #lucifer morningstar

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rockstvrdotcom · 10 months

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Hey cutie!!! Can i request a s/o who has a cold looks, she has experience vibes, a cruel mouth with sharp words. But in bedroom, she's innocent and curious about everything as shit, that makes her partner super surprised and they want that naive just do for them.

I wish it for EJ, Toby plssssssss. 🥺🥺🥺 (With NSFW kinda yummy yummy 😋)

Oh anyway, I love your writing alooooooot, it's really gooood just took my heart away at the first line!!!! Kiss kiss kiss 💋💋💋💋

I'm your 💅 lovely anon. Nice to meet you!!!

oh em gee HIII NICE TO MEET U TOO MWAH MWAH THANK U FOR THE SWEET WORDS <33

while i was writing ej i was gonna say "he rolled his eyes" but then i remembered he has no eyes..

IM SORRY THIS IS SO LATE AGSJDHSJS </333 FORGIVE ME NONNIE

tw/cw: praise, oral sex, unexperienced reader, fem reader, also just regular sex, slight spanking

EYELESS JACK ☤

out of the bedroom, the words that come of your mouth are completely different from in the bedroom.

"shut up, jack" you spoke sharply, rolling your eyes. he tch'd in response. you were both watching a movie on the couch, his arm around your shoulder; and your arms crossed.

you acted like you hated the affection he gave you, but really— you adored him. that's why when a sex scene in the movie came on and you felt ej's hard on, you asked if he needed help.

"don't think of it as anything special, i'm just bored. that's all" you spoke, giving him a cold stare, your back facing him. you turned around, your cheeks flushed with a light pink color.

"yeah yeah, whatever" ej said, biting the inside of his cheek. he looked at your face, eyes admiring you. he cupped your cheek with his hand, and leaned in for a kiss. you kissed back, hands around his neck to deepen the kiss.

he then took you by the waist, sitting back down on the couch and straddling your hips onto his; the bulge in his pants rubbing against your crotch and his lips still connected with yours.

you pulled back from the kiss, looking at him with a slight hint of worry. "i.. tell me if i'm doing something wrong. i've never done anything like this before." you said, looking at him with innocent eyes. his eyebrows raised in suprise, then he gently nodded.

"you're doing great." he smiled slightly, his fangs slightly poking out. you bit your lip hard to hide your smile, trying to look grumpy at his compliment. suddenly, it was like the outbursts of rage, the scratches, and the hard glares were from a completely different person. your mean and cold facade was cracking— and ej wanted to get through to you completely.

you got on your knees on the floor, patting his legs as a signal to spread them; and he did. you hooked your fingers under the waistband of his sweats and boxers, pulling them both down just about enough so his cock could spring out.

you looked at his size, your mouth slightly agape. you contemplated if you could actually take him or not— he looked down at you with a cocky smirk on his face, causing you to scoff.

you got back to work, wrapping your hand around his dick and slowly jerking him off. you noticed his breathing became heavy, making you feel more confident as you picked up the pace of your hand.

you hand came to an abrupt stop; he looked down at you confused. "what happened?" he asked, resisting the urge to buck his hips up for more friction.

"c-.. can i lick it? like suck it i mean— you know what. nevermind." you tried to ask, but just turned your head away in embarrassment. you puffed out your cheeks in humiliation and narrowed your eyes. you were about to start jerking him off again, until he grabbed your wrist.

you turn your head to look at him. "you can do it." he said, encouraging you and twirling a piece of your hair around his finger. he grabbed you by the hair, bringing your face inches from his dick.

you cleared your throat, trying not to stare at his dick— that was literally right infront of you. you straightened your posture and placed your hands comfortably on his thighs.

you started off with little kitten licks— which jack thought was adorable by the way; then slowly progressed. and finally, your lips were wrapped around his dick, your head bobbing up and down and your fist jerking off whatever part you couldn't take into your mouth.

"mm.. fuck, you look so cute right now.." he purred, biting his lip as he smirked. you looked up and glared at him, only to have him tuck a stray hair behind your ear.

he thrusted his hips up into your mouth, making you gag as he hit the back of your throat. he did it again, and again— something about the way your throat clenched around him made his dick throb with need.

"fuck, baby— 'm cumming" he grunted, doing one last thrust into your mouth before releasing with his dick deep in your throat. you hummed around his dick, then sliding off with a 'pop' when he gave you the sign it was ok to.

"suprised you've never done this before, you're a natural." he joked, playfully punching you in the shoulder. you pushed his hand away, scoffing.

"oh shush." you said, gritting your teeth. he laughed. he pulled you up, making you stand on your feet. he swiftly turned you around then sat you down on his lap.

"so she's back to her old self huh? you remind me of the grinch." he poked at your puffed out cheeks. you slapped his hand away, cursing at him.

TICCI TOBY ✽

he watched in amusement as you curiously roamed your hands over his bare stomach. "don't look at me like that." you demanded, and he scoffed. your eyes averted back to his torso, admiring his toned abs that were literred with all different types of scars.

"you're the one who has their hands all over me." he retorted. you couldn't see his face, but you could hear the smirk in his voice.

"just shut up, toby" you said, tracing his abs with your fingers. he chuckled at your actions. after a while, he took ahold of your hands so you couldn't touch him anymore

"hey, pretty, why dont 'cha just hop on my dick and ride me already? pleasee?" he begged. he noticed the change of expression in your face, you looked more flustered and serious.

"what's wrong?" he asked, his playful tone now replaced with a more stern one. he took a piece of your hair and played with it as he awaited your answer.

you avoided eye contact. "i- uh... i'm a virgin." you spoke, barely a whisper. you scratched your head in awkwardness, awaiting his response. you were still looking away

"what'd you say? i don't think i heard you correctly." toby asked, genuinely. you silently cursed him.

"i'm a virgin.." you spoke a little louder. you finally looked up at him to see him confused. then his expression brightened up, a confused laugh escaping his throat.

"why the hell are you laughing, asshole?!" you yelled, your embarrassment obvious on your face as you bit your cheek. he held his hand up to his mouth, trying to stop himself from laughing.

"nonono- i'm not making fun of you. i just didn't expect it! that's all. you seem like somebody who's experienced. no wonder why your so curious.." he reasoned, holding your chin with his hand. you muttered a 'whatever'. secretly, the thought of him being your first time made him throb.

"don't worry, sweetheart. i'll guide you." he spoke, and you weren't able to tell if he was mocking you or if he was being genuine. you sat up straight, starting to take off your clothes, one by one. now you were left in your matching lacy red bra and panties.

"shut up. i know what i'm doing, i'll do it myself." you voiced coldly. you roughly undid his belt, then his zipper. you looked up at him, and he nodded. you pulled his pants down, eyes roaming around; coming to a halt when you saw his happy trail peeking out of the waistband of his boxers.

your eyes drifted lower down, looking at the huge bulge in his boxers. you felt your wetness pooling in your panties, your pussy clenching around nothing and wishing it was toby. your clit ached to be touched, a whine almost escaping your throat.

"what? too big?" he said, making you look up. a cocky smirk was plastered on his face. you tch'd and palmed him slowly through his boxers, watching him automatically shut up and his face turn a little red.

you hooked your fingers under the elastic waistband of toby's boxers, pulling it down. you watched in awe as his cock sprung free; now you were really questioning if it was too big.

you were already wet, so you figured it'd be fine- and he fingered you before this. you climbed ontop of him, feeling his eyes watch your every move.

your palms were sweaty as you moved your panties to the side, aligning the tip of his dick with your entrance. you winced and bit your lip before lowering yourself onto him.

"fuck.." you heard him groan as your walls enveloped his cock. you looked up at him, his eyes blown with lust and cheeks lit up with pink.

"a- am i doing this right?" you asked, your voice shaky as you slowly rode him. he nodded.

"the only thing your doing wrong is not going fast enough." he complained, tempted to grab you roughly by the hips and bounce you up and down on his cock until you can't say anything but his name. and if you didn't pick up the pace, he was sure his temptation would take control.

you nodded profusely, leaning forward. you trapped his head inbetween your two hands, praying that whatever you do next will please him and not embarass you.

your chest was now against his and your lips were interlocked as you rode his dick, sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room.

he groaned, deepening the kiss. his hands gently held your waist, not guiding you but basically telling you that you were doing all the right things.

you felt his hand move up to your breast, then taking it into his hand and rolling your nipple inbetween his fingers. you moaned, but not once removing yourself from his lips. you clenched around him and felt him throb inside of you, making you whimper. he leaned back, breaking the kiss.

"you're doing so good— fuck you're so hot." he panted, leaning into the crook of your neck then leaving soft kisses along your jaw.

the room began to feel hotter than before— if even possible. short breaths escaped your mouth, your orgasm getting nearer and nearer.

you watched his jaw tighten, his groans coming to a stop; now only silent pants. his brows furrowed, seemingly frustrated.

before you could even say anything, his hands gripped your hips— hard enough that you knew it would leave a bruise.

next thing you were sliding up and down on his dick roughly, toby leaving no time for you to even catch a break as he knew he was close and so were you.

silent moans escaped your lips; sounds of your pleasure caught in your throat. he thrusted up deeper into you, his thrusts erratic and desperate.

he grabbed you by the back of your neck and made you lean down close enough to him that you could feel him breathing on your neck. he bit down hard as he let out a loud groan.

you cried out in pain and pleasure as you felt him release inside of you a few seconds after he bit you. your orgasm washed over you, tears blurring your vision as you moaned out his name in a whisper.

he thrusted up into you, the both of your riding out your orgasms. once you two became tired, you collapsed on him, your legs sore.

you felt a hand on your thigh, but your eyes were struggling to open. you felt soft kisses litter your temple and forehead, and toby's fingers pushing any cum that leaked out back into your aching cunt.

"goodnight, pretty."

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