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#but you’re getting a little ….sneak..peak..
isasan347 · 3 months
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Why does coloring take so long~~ HE L P
I’m literally only through one of the five sketches oh my god
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horrorartsworld · 3 months
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hell’s little maid
alastor/f!reader
warnings: 18+ nsfw content mwhahaha
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You had been recently hired as a maid at none other than…The Hazbin Hotel.
Not that Niffty’s neat-freak tendencies and murderous intent towards bugs wasn’t enough, they just needed the extra hands incase more sinners were willing to stay at this little ray of sunshine on the top of the hill.
Though Hazbin’s Facilities Manger seemed to have the upmost closest eye on you.
It wasn’t that he was suspicious of you, oh no, it was the maid uniform that Charlie had picked out for you. The poor girl must’ve gotten it down by the porn studios because it seemed to fit you in ways that had Alastor barely keeping his usual gentleman like composure.
The way you would bend over in it to pick something up. Tits practically spilling out the top and the skirt would ride up just enough that he would sneak a peak at the back of your thighs and if he was lucky he’d get a glimpse of the delicate fabric of your panties hugging your pretty pussy making him grip his mic tighter to the point his knuckles turned white.
Alastor felt like he could never get away from you in these moments of hot anguish even when he desperately needed to.
“Do you need a cleaning sir~?” Your soft voice startled him as he was deep in thought.
You stood there sweetly infront of him as if you weren’t a sinner at all. Doe eyes shining bright up at him with your feather duster in hand.
“N-no not today my dear….” His voice seemed more huskier than usual making you tilt your head at him curiously.
“Are you alright sir? You seem kind of….flustered”
He clears his throat as his undeniable heat was getting to him, practically hurting in his pants, especially with you being this close and sooo desperate to know what’s going on with him.
“Y-yes now if you’d excuse me…I have something to take care of” He tries to avoid your gaze and your body as he starts to slip away.
“Wait!” Your sudden outburst made you blush as you realized you grabbed his wrist without permission.
Alastor’s body went into overdrive at that moment pushing you up against the nearest wall with much need. Sending surprised gasp to fly out from your lips.
“A-alastor~”
“Shhhh darling…It’s alright I just need to make a few…well adjustments to this uniform of yours…”
One of his long claws coming out to slowly tease at the white ribbon holding your top together. He leaned in closer pressing his body against yours as he swiftly undid it letting your breasts fall out of it. Making a satisfied crackle come from the radio demon as he then looked up at your face to see your cheeks turning pink.
You would’ve never expected him to be like this let alone have this lustful gaze in his eyes for you.
He chuckled seeing how needy you were becoming as he then started to roll one of your nipples between his fingers making you whimper softly.
“Such a pretty girl frrmee~” He purred with a little pop of static in his voice.
Before you know it you’re a crying mess. Delicate hands holding onto his antlers for dear life as he fucks you mercilessly with his face buried in your chest. Feeling his sharp teeth nip at your skin every now in then when you got too loud.
He had looped his arms under your thighs picking you up off the ground as he made it his mission to have the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot at such a delicious angel it had you babbling hyms.
“O-ohhh…alastorrr!~” You squealed feeling your mixed juices drip onto the floor knowing damn well you’ll have to clean that up later.
His thrusts becoming relentless as your pussy clamps down on his cock already seeing how much he needed this. Needed you a mess with him so deep inside you, in that skirt, with it bouncing to the rhythm of your bodies colliding.
His nails started to dig into the plush skin of your thighs once you started to get close to the edge making a low growl admit from Alastor when one more deep thrust was all it took to have you cumming all over him with his name being the only thing rippling out of your throat as your body shutters profusely with your release.
Approaching his own climax you notice his antlers increasing in size as well as his eyes reddening with each thrust in to your now sensitive hole. Teeth snarling as he then bites down on your shoulder causing a little blood to admit from it, his tongue darting out to lap it up before any of it can trickle down.
He buries himself deep inside as he reaches his lengths end and lets you put your feet back on the ground, your legs feeling quite wobbly in which he takes notice giving you his arm to hold onto while you both put yourselves back together. Though your poor top couldn’t be salvaged with it having a large slash down the middle, not noticing Alastor had even done that making you pout, which made the demon chuckle at you then hand you his coat to cover up as he led you to his room to take care of you for the rest of the night.
“You know dear…I did tell Miss Charlie that was an inappropriate uniform…”
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷
AHHHHHHH FIRST POST DONE!!! I CANT BELIEVE IT, I HOPE YOU ENJOYED 😖😖😖
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jj-one · 2 months
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STRAY KIDS + POSSESSIVENESS ! 🩹 ⋅˚₊ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
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this is smut, do not interact if under 18
pairing: dom!skz x sub!fem!reader, established relationship, husband!changbin bc why not ? genre/tags: smut, angst, fluff (tbh it's only changbin's part), jealousy, exhibitionism, voyeurism, lots of degradation, mentions of crying, marking, manhandling, bondage play, piv, unprotected s*x (do not try this at home kids), public s*x, rough s*x, fingering, nipple play, oral (f & m receiving), t*tty slapping, multiple orgasms, edging, choking, bulge kink, slight breeding kink… am not mentally ok for writing any of this words: 3.4k
**old repost from my deleted blog
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BANG CHAN. His patience was a level of no other. The man just watched you flirt with his friend and didn’t mutter a single word. All the while you kept boasting about how good Changbin’s muscles looked and the movement of his biceps were leaving you in complete amusement.
Pissed off doesn’t begin to describe what he’s feeling right now. He clears his throat,
“Are we done y/n? I think it’s time we head home now.”
The tone of his voice was cold, icy like a winter storm.
The lump in your throat was stuck. You knew how much in deep shit you were for this and his silence was the main indicator.
You could feel his piercing eyes on you the whole time.
+
It wasn’t long before you’d end up in this position. Both arms were locked above your head by his strong hands. The tight grip he kept around your wrists was definitely going to leave some bruising.
“You’re such a dumb slut. Did all this just to get me like this huh?” His cock hitting your walls aggressively as you spasm and shake under him.
“All this to get me to fuck you the like the dumb little cockwhore you are?” He growled, “can Changbin fuck you like this?”
His pace was relentless. His cock stretching you open with each deep thrust. His harsh words cutting into you like a dagger. Your mind was blank, head full of Chan’s cock. You had to answer him though, or else he will stop.
“N-no Chan only y-yours… only you can fuck me like this!”
A smirk creeps up his face from your quavering voice. He leans forward, his lips brush over yours as if almost to kiss you but doesn’t.
“I own you y/n. Only I get to have to you, understood?”
All you feel is his cock slamming into you. The slapping sounds becoming a melody of a beat, your heart was racing a mile a minute.
“Understood.”
LEE KNOW. He hates when you act out in public. The way you tease him and get him riled up, knowing he can’t do anything about it. It gave you sense of power, you had the upper hand— for now.
You were wearing the shortest mini skirt possible, it barely covered your bum and you could feel a cool breeze slip through your crevices. You kept walking in front of him, swaying your little hips side to side, letting him watch you bend down to pick things up as he sneaks a peak under your skirt. The sight of the pink lace thong you wore was enough to make him grab you by the arm and yank you into a public restroom nearby.
Before you know it, you’re being devoured by your boyfriend. Sitting on the counter of the sink whilst he was below you, giving you a gaze that could snatch your soul. His digits sunk into your dripping cunt as he swipes his tongue across your slit. Your skirt was still on but pushed up slightly, your thong was also moved to the side.
“I can’t believe you’d go out like this and expect me not to control myself.” He rises up momentarily.
“You do this on purpose, knowing I don’t want other people looking at you.”
He laps up your juices and coats it with his face, scissoring you open with his fingers.
“Fuck… I wore this for you Minho— w-wanted to look pretty for you.” Your eyes were tightly shut, feeling the euphoria as you were close to your orgasm.
He abruptly pulled his fingers out of you, thrusting your hips in the air now, you whine for stimulation.
“Will you be a good girlfriend for me and cum on my tongue kitten? I want you to scream as loud for me as you can, I don’t care who hears it.” Minho was dead serious. He doesn’t care you both are in a public restroom and there’s people casually walking by. He wants everyone to know you are his.
You nod and agree to be on your best behavior for him. You know he will most likely reward you for this in the end.
“I promise, I’ll be a good girl Minho.”
Feeling your body heat surge as he inched closer to your core, pressing his tongue at your entrance. He tongue fucks you viciously while never breaking his eye contact with you.
Feeling yourself come undone from the surreal pleasure, all you want is to feel your release.
You thrash and moan as you cream on Minho’s tongue, your legs felt like jello when you climax. You let out multiple gasps for air, feeling as though you just ran a marathon.
Minho hasn’t left between your legs yet, his face still in a headlock. He wasn’t quite finished with you just yet.
“You can give me one more, right kitten?”
CHANGBIN. Being a newlywed couple felt like a fairytale dream come true. He felt incredibly lucky to have you as his wife and doesn’t stop reminding you how happy he is. He’d shower you with a beacon of compliments that would melt your heart each and every time.
You went on another vacation right after the honeymoon and it felt like paradise. That was up until a small incident occurred, it happened when you were at the pool with your husband. One of the pool goers at the resort couldn’t keep their eyes off you. You wore a sexy one piece that had cut-out details on the sides to show off your waist but you wore a sheer cover up over it.
Changbin noticed straight away the eyes that were glued to you, the eyes that were glued to his precious wife. He was livid. Almost causing a scene, he went up to the perverted man that was eye fucking you and gave him a piece of his mind. In utter disbelief of what was unfolding in front of you, you go up to Changbin to calm him down and get him to stop before he ends up actually doing something he’ll regret. His face burned crimson from anger but the sound of your voice brought him back to reality.
+
Things were much better in private now. Much better. Sitting on your husband’s lap in the jacuzzi bathtub felt so relaxing, his hands roamed your naked body as he placed chaste kisses all over you. He stopped at your neck to give it more attention, nibbling on a sensitive spot that made you sink right into his form. Moaning softly whilst his hands prance down to your back.
“I want to shield the rest of the world from you, only I get to gawk at my gorgeous wife.” Changbin says possessively, looking at you once he comes up from your neck.
You nod in agreement, “they can look but can’t touch!”
“No, they can’t even look, all of this is mine, mine, mine.” He plants a kiss to your cheek as his hand creeps down to your core. He prods your hole with a single digit, entering you with ease. You let out a soft moan as you part your lips slightly, bucking your hips forward. He pumps his finger into your wetness as he looks deeply into your eyes, nothing but burning desire in his pupils. He brings his thumb to your clit and rubs it in a steady motion, your swollen nub feeling overstimulated from his touch.
“This is just the beginning my love, I’m not done with you until the sun comes up.” He whispered in your ear as he drags his tongue against your earlobe. In just the jacuzzi alone, he’s made you cum several times from his fingers. Oh how those magical fingers always do wonders on you..
HYUNJIN. The room was pitch black, your vision completely impaired from the blindfold attached to your head. Your hands were bound to each other, behind your back being tied by a thick rope. You had nowhere to go and the room was pure silence, naked and touch starved, you whine for Hyunjin to do something but you were met with no answer. He was standing over you on the bed but you were unaware of any of your surroundings.
The man finally spoke, “This is what happens when you try and make daddy jealous.”
You can feel his hot breath on your neck, the sensation making you crave him even more.
Hyunjin was always the possessive type, was constantly in need of reassurance if he felt his ego was being bruised. This was situation was no different, he needed to remind you that he was the one who owned you.
He brought finger to your perked nipple, gently dragging it across to tease you a bit. A white-hot charge sent through your body as you finally felt his touch. Dripping in a puddle of your own slick from the dirty thoughts racing in your mind, he continues lightly tracing your hardened nipples; eliciting low moans from you.
Your senses were heightened from the way you weren’t able to see anything, any little touch from him making you squeal from shock.
“You like this don’t you?” He says in a condescending tone, he belittles you some more. “So pathetic, look at you. Can’t do anything but take it, so fucking helpless.”
Hyunjin loved seeing how weak you become under him, the power dynamic being completely imbalanced right now. All you could do was moan out for him, practically begging him to do more but you know he’s going to take his time with you.
“Gonna make you squirt all over this bed for me.” He says, “Won’t stop until I have you screaming and begging for mercy, which I will never give you.”
The smirk on his face was devilish, he was conjuring up the perfect plan to ruin you indefinitely.
“Hyunjin, please fuck me… please.” You push your thighs together to feel some friction but Hyunjin gets mad at this action instantly.
He brings a harsh slap to your left tit, making you jump up a bit but your body couldn’t move properly from being tied up. Your legs went back to it’s original position, spread open for him so he can get a glimpse of your dripping cunt.
“Don’t ever tell me what to do, I make the rules now.” He palms your breast and kneads it excessively.
“You are my property.”
HAN. If jealousy was a disease Han would be the first one to catch it. He really loves yet hates the fact that he has such a smoking hot girlfriend that everyone wants. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy dating you but the way some of these other guys would look at you was about to become his villain origin story.
You were so oblivious to anyone who attempted to flirt with you, you only had eyes for your man but it was hard to convince Han otherwise. The pizza delivery guy complimented how pretty you looked and when you handed him the money to pay for the food, you accidentally gave him a ten dollar bill instead of a twenty, he didn’t even care he just smiled and continued talking to you.
That’s when Han knew he had to butt in, he was listening from the couch and he knew he shouldn’t have let you be the one to answer the door. Quickly he comes up to you to wrap his arms behind you, keeping you in a tight hold as the pizza guy looks mortified now.
“You can leave now,” Han says to him in a harsh tone, “We have important business to take care of!”
Slamming the door in his face now, Han comes up from behind you to take the pizza box out of your hands to place it on the table. Soon after, a heavy make out session between you would ensue.
+
As your naked bodies entangled one another, you feel yourself cinching around his cock from each inch as he slides it in. Your breath instantly coming to a halt as the end of his cock crashed into your cervix. He moves with his ass up in the air as he buries his length deep inside you, the squelching sound of your wet pussy making him see stars.
“Fuck… so fucking tight for me.” Han says sounding pussydrunk off the way you feel around him.
You fall into a frenzy as he pumps his length into you harder, pounding into you like no tomorrow. The bulge of his cock could be seen inside you, moving in and out of you intensely. Grinding your hips to match his pace, you rub your clit to feel more stimulation.
“You’re so fucking hot my God…” He cooed, tiny beads of sweat now forming on the sides of his face. “Your pussy was made for me and me only…”
“Only I can make you feel this good.”
FELIX. He felt sick to his stomach whenever he saw someone else looking at you. The way people would look at you in public when he was with you made him feel beyond disrespected. This is exactly why he doesn’t bring you anywhere because his fragile little ego will be crushed as soon as another person laid their eyes on you. He couldn’t deal with it anymore, he just had to do something about it.
You were at a public park but the park was so big that it was easy to hide and go unseen behind some bushes.
Felix brought you to a secluded area and told you get on your back, you do as he says and he looks at you with the most evil grin on his face.
“I’m going to fuck you so dumb right here, right now.” Felix says in a raspy deep voice, “I will let everyone exactly know who’s bitch you are.”
You gulp once you feel his hands all over you, you wore a black slip dress which drove him absolutely mad.
“Gonna make you pay for getting me worked up like this.” You felt so small when he spoke like this to you, the sticky mess in your panties was only growing as you feel his hands go up your thigh.
“Too stunned to speak sweetheart?” He asks, giving you an alluring yet mischievous smile. You have no idea what this man has for you in store.
“N-no, I can speak-“
“Shut up.” He quickly cuts you off from saying more. “I’m the one talking right now, you sit back and take what I’m going to give you.”
You did exactly as you were told and lay back for him. He quickly unzips his pants and frees his cock from his boxers. You look at the red tip of his angry cock, the sight of his raging erection was enough to make you feel a tingling sensation in your heat. His cock would plunge into you nice and slow but once he bottoms out he’ll quickly pick up his pace, fucking into you menacingly. He brought a hand to your neck and squeezed the shaft of it tightly, you gasp for air as he choked you but it wasn’t unbearable. You close your eyes to the feeling, letting yourself be fully immersed into him. Each thrust he gave you felt like bliss as he roughly held onto your hip, fucking you like a complete maniac.
“Gonna dump all my cum into your slutty little body,” Felix continued,“you’re my fuck toy, only I get to use you.”
SEUNGMIN. Usually something like this would never get to him. However, today was different, very different. Seungmin almost went ballistic when he found out that some guy asked for your number while you were out shopping at the supermarket. He often goes everywhere with you but you were getting off work and went straight to the store to grab some things for dinner. That’s when it happened and you told Seungmin as soon as you got home. You thought he’d just laugh it off but he frowned, disproving of that guy’s actions.
“What a loser,” Seungmin says in an annoyed tone, “when they will learn to just leave you the hell alone?”
He wanted you all to himself, if he could lock you up forever and throw away the key, he probably would. Only letting you out when he tells you you can.
“They can try all they want Minnie but I know I belong to you at the end of the day.” You bring your arms around his neck and lean in to kiss him and he kisses you back passionately.
+
“Want you to say it for me again, who’s pussy does this belong to?” Seungmin was now relentlessly pumping two fingers in you.
“Y-yours Seungmin… yours!” You could barely get a coherent word out of your mouth.
“And who makes you feel the best?”
He wasn’t letting up on making sure you know that you fully belonged to him. “We can do this all day princess… I’m not going to stop until I’m satisfied.”
This was his fifth time edging you at this point, leaving you on the verge of an orgasm but would pull his fingers out once he notices your chest floating up. He’s being so evil to you right now, as if you it was your fault for what had happened in the supermarket.
“You, only y-you! You’re the best at making me feel so good!” You babble as he rapidly moves his fingers in and out of your gaping hole.
“That’s my good little girl, now keep taking my fingers and I’ll reward you soon okay?”
JEONGIN. “You’re such a filthy slut, you know that?” The motion of needy hips were bucking into you. Your head was kept in place, completely still, on your knees and on the verge of tears from your boyfriend’s words.
You knew why you were in this predicament right now. This was all your fault and you did it all for this exact reason.
You wanted to see Jeongin’s reaction to saying you think Felix was hot. You know he wouldn’t take that comment lightly since that was one of his best friends. You wanted to see how far you could test his limits.
“You wanna fuck my friends huh?” He grabs you by the hair and furrows his eyebrows to regain more focus onto you.
You couldn’t speak, all you could do was shake your head around him as he shoved his cock further down your throat.
“Can’t even talk with your mouth full of cock, what a dumb little whore you are.”
His cock hitting the back of your uvula, causing you to make a gagging noise. Streaks of saliva creep from the sides your mouth, the messy scenery underneath him was a heavenly sight indeed. You moan while sucking his cock, the vibrations making the hairs on the back of his neck rise up. He throws his head back and keeps a tight hold on your hair, gripping you with everything he had. He thrusts his hard length into you viciously, the gurgling noises you were making whilst he fucks your face sounds harmonic to him.
“Shit…think I’m gonna cum soon” he muttered, letting out a groan as he kept pushing your face into his cock. “Yeah… just like that fuck… that’s it.”
A stream of tears came running down your face as you continued. You can feel his veiny cock twitch against your tongue as you felt hot spurts of cum fill you up now. You swallow each and every drop and milk him clean like the good girl you were. Opening your mouth wide to show it was empty he grins viciously and taps his dick against your tongue.
“You’re the biggest fucking slut…” He pants heavily.
“My biggest slut.”
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 3 months
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Dad!Simon Riley x Fem!reader
Simon Riley: Girl Dad
From the request here ; pic screenshot from this video
“Can I come in now?” you ask, popping your head into the nursery as Simon finishes getting your 3 month old daughter Anna ready for the day. 
She wriggles in his grasp, babbling away as he mutters in a hushed tone to her about keeping still for daddy.
"Ya think this is funny yeah," he teases her, tickling her chubby tummy before trying to wrangle one of her legs in his grasp.
It’s like music to his soul the way the happy talking sounds she makes touches his heart and it only makes him want to do whatever he can so that she will keep making them for him. That’s why it always takes longer than usual to get her dressed when he does it.
You crane your neck trying to sneak a peak, but his voice stops you. “Not yet,” he says and moves his body to block your view. 
He doesn’t want you to see before he’s ready. The outfit is one he picked up the other night on a whim, the moment he saw it he knew Anna had to have it for today, and he wants to get it all on to give the full effect. He finishes straightening her up and tucks her body sitting up in the crook of his arm. She is content as can be being snuggled at the side of his chest, happily clapping her little hands together as they turn to face you. 
“Well?” he asks, brow furrowed and body slightly tense as he waits for your critique. “How'd we do?”
You match your daughter’s vibrant smile as you see the outfit Simon’s bought all on his own: a bright yellow corduroy romper with frill capped sleeves, little socks with suns on them, and a big yellow bow to match. Your heart swells full of emotion at the sight; it’s just an outfit, sure, but it really means so much more than the sum of its parts. You know just how far Simon has come in his journey with her and it truly warms your heart to see him so smitten with the little babe this way.  
When she first came home, there wasn’t a moment when Simon wasn’t on edge around her, nervous that somehow, someway, he would end up hurting her. She seemed so small to him in those first days, so incredibly delicate as she lay sleeping in her bassinet like the most perfect doll, that he was certain that someone as rough around the edges as him would never be able to be near her without breaking her and that was something he was not willing to risk.
She is his gift, his light, a treasure that came from out of all the years of heartache and hardship and he would never let anything bad ever happen to her.
It took some time and a lot of encouragement on your part, but finally Simon found his confidence and never looked back. Any chance now that he can get he is holding her, changing her, feeding her; anything and everything he can do to show her his love by his actions alone. And whether he gives himself the credit for it or not, he is doing a marvelous job.
“How did I know you'd choose something yellow?” you laugh as Simon glares at you, trying not to crack that fake tough facade. 
It is becoming a pattern for him to choose yellow things when it comes to Anna. When she came home from the hospital a few months ago in that yellow onesie, it was like a flip and been switched and that was it; that was her hue from then on. It is strange, Simon never really had a favorite color before that special day and then suddenly yellow was never the same. Now he cannot imagine his life without it.
His face breaks into a smile as he shakes his head, not ready to admit that he is becoming predictable. “Come on, did I do it right or not? Just want to be sure it looks fine on her. We got a big day and I want it ta be perfect.”
Your face brightens as you look her over again. “She looks adorable, Simon,” you reply cheerfully. “You did good, baby. I think you’re really getting the hang of this dad thing.”
Looking down at her in his grasp, he beams with a sense of accomplishment and his tense shoulders ease. Parenting is not something Simon ever thought he could be good at, he never thought he would be the one with the chance at having a family, but each day he is making strides in the right direction to becoming the dad he desperately wants to be.  
“Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own today?” you ask as you watch Simon place a delicate kiss to the top of Anna’s small, wispy-haired head. “Cause I can stay if you need me to. All I gotta do is make a call and let them know I can’t go.”
Simon shakes his head and reaches for you with his free arm, pulling you by the wrist until you step close enough that he can wrap his arm around your hip to pull you against him opposite your daughter. “Ya worry too damn much, sweetheart,” he says as his hand finds your cheek, his thumb stroking across the soft skin before he is leaning his face in towards yours. 
His full lips catch you in their tender embrace, a kiss that is full of emotion, and in an instant your eyes flutter closed as you relinquish yourself to him. You let all those worries fall away as the gentle touch of his lips, the heat from his breath, the passion flowing through his kiss calms your mind. He conveys so much without ever speaking a single word and in a flash you are put at ease.
Slowly he breaks away, already missing your taste the moment your lips part. Eyes still shut, he rests his forehead against yours, rocking all three of you back and forth a moment as he enjoys the feeling of having his entire life resting comfortably in his arms. You both open your eyes after a time and look down at Anna babbling away to herself, before looking back at each other. This is all still new and unchartered territory, so the both of you are working to figure it all out, but so far it has been anything except bad. 
“I promise, I got ‘er. We’re gonna be just fine,” he says quietly. “Isn’t that right, princess?”
At the sound of his voice Anna turns her face to find his and it lights up as it always does whenever her favorite person talks to her. She even employs her recently-learned skill of giggling happily to punctuate that she agrees with whatever it was she was just asked, even though she doesn’t understand a word of it.  
Simon kisses your forehead to be sure the worry is completely gone. “It’s just a couple hours on base and then we’ll be home the rest of tha day,” he says. “Besides, might be nice to show her off to the guys. She does look real pretty today.” 
“That she does,” you agree as you quickly check the clock on your phone and with a kiss to your baby and one more for Simon you are gone, leaving the pair alone.
Simon gets to work double checking everything in his backpack that he has to bring for her: extra diapers, wipes, bottles, toys, anything he could need while he is out. It’s in his nature, years of military training has come in handy as he is prepared for it all. Satisfied, he turns back to the baby at his side. “Alright princess,” he says, “ready to go see where your dad spends all his time when he ain’t at home?”
The moment he’s walking on base, black backpack filled with essentials strapped to his back, tiny baby girl dressed in bright clothes tucked in his arms, he’s drawing curious stares from everyone he passes. This is the first time she has gone to base with him, so of course people are going to be inquisitive about things. How can they not? Simon looks like… well, Simon: intense, stoic, intimidating. Even in just his black t-shirt and jeans, with his lightweight balaclava on, he is still an imposing figure. Never one to be shy per se, Simon still does not like the attention on him, but since he is with his little angel he doesn’t care. He is proud to show off the best damn thing he has ever helped to create.
The contrast between him and his daughter he knows is jarring and Simon laughs to himself at how absurd this must look for someone like him with such a coarse demeanor to be handling such a precious, sweet thing. Who would have thought that the scary skull-masked military officer would have a family of his own? It is a shock he is sure. 
“Seems we’re gonna be the talk ‘round ‘ere today, princess,” he says as he looks down at Anna, secure in his grasp as they continue on towards his office.
She is too busy looking everywhere her little head can turn to be bothered by anything. Being out and about with her father, seeing things she’s never seen before, which is pretty much everything, has her interested and engaged with the sights around her. Those small brown eyes, the ones that are a carbon copy of his, stare on as she silently takes everything in.
He makes it to his office and gets set up, grabbing everything that he needs in one tight spot as he sits Anna up in his lap with a toy for her to play with. She is content for a while as he goes through paperwork, occasionally he gives her a tickle or readjusts her on his thigh, something to show that he hasn’t forgotten she’s there with him. 
Barely an hour has passed before Anna begins to whine and fuss and Simon knows what that means: she’s hungry. He grabs the prepped bottle out of the bag and walks to the small microwave in the corner of the room, warming it and testing it on his wrist before he moves back to his desk and sits back down in his chair, cradling her in his arms against his chest as he places the nipple of the bottle in her mouth.
“There ya are, luv,” he comforts her until she settles into him, “I gotcha. Daddy didn’t forget.”
Unknown to Simon, there is an unexpected guest that has just appeared near his office door, though before the person can even knock to announce themselves, they are caught by surprise at the sight before them. Johnny, who’s come to deliver something from Price, stops right in his tracks and stares at the scene before him.
He stands there, watching as Simon tenderly holds this little infant in his arms, quietly rocking back and forth as she drinks her bottle. Every now and again he speaks to her softly, the skin around his eyes tightening to indicate there is a smile underneath the mask. There is an ease to his movements as if he knows exactly what he is doing and it genuinely shocks the young sergeant. Who could have ever guessed that this would be something Simon would be such a natural at?
As Anna is finishing the bottle, Simon looks up as he feels a pair of eyes on him to see Johnny standing there, obscured by the doorframe, silently watching. He sets the empty bottle down on his desk and moves Anna to sit upright on his thigh, leaning her against the crook of his arm so that he can pat and rub her back until she burps. 
“Can I help ya, Mactavish?” Simon’s distinct voice calls out, catching Johnny off-guard as he realizes he’s been caught staring.
“Sorry, L.T.” Johnny stutters out as he hurriedly steps inside the office, remembering why he is here in the first place, and sets some papers upon his desk. “Price sent these; says he needs ya to look ‘em over.”
Simon nods in understanding, his hand still rubbing the baby’s back. “Will do,” he agrees, thinking this will be the end of the interaction, but Johnny still lingers. “Anything else?”
“I heard ‘round base that ya had your little one here today. Had to come see if it was true fer myself,” Johnny admits with guilt. 
“Well, ya could meet ‘er if ya like, ‘stead a standin’ there just starin’.”  Simon nods his head down at the baby. “Johnny, this is Anna.”
The sergeant observes her as she begins to coo, her eyes catching the tattoos along Simon’s muscular arm, her petite fingers tapping and poking along the lines and patterns with delight as she loves to do when he holds her like this. She’s so engrossed that she hasn’t realized there is another person in the room yet.
Johnny clears his throat. “Didn’t mean ta stare, ya know. It’s just a surprise ta see she’s actually real, I guess.”
The original members of the 141 know about Anna, it wasn’t something that Simon could hide once she was about to make her way into the world, but it’s a bit jarring for the Scot to see someone that he had previously known to be so toughened by the world change so drastically. Anyone who gets close enough can see it in the lieutenant’s soft gaze: he adores the little girl and that is… interesting, to say the least.
Simon chuckles at the clear surprise in Johnny’s voice as Anna is still playing with his arm. “Bit absurd, innit Johnny?” he questions while watching her with a prideful twinkle in those brown eyes as she giggles. “Me with a kid? Doesn’t seem possible, does it?” 
“Ya seem a natural ta me,” the Scot admits in awe of how easily he makes it seem, as if he was given some secret knowledge that made him know exactly what to do and how to do it. “Then again I don’t know the first thing ‘bout babies. Wouldn’t even know where ta start.”
Simon is reminded about how when he first found out he was going to be a dad he had started reading all the books, researching all the things like a good, capable soldier would, but how all of that prep was nothing in the end as the moment she came into the world everything was turned on its head. It’s not like in the books, it’s so much better and it is days like today that make it worth all the worry and fear and anxiety he had to break through to get here.
“Easier than ya think,” Simon replies with a chuckle as he moves Anna around facing forward now. “Once ya get the hang of it.”
“Don’t tell my girl that,” Johnny laughs back. “Can’t afford one right now.”
Anna’s attention is stirred away from Simon’s tattoos and towards the other man standing in the room with them. She looks up at Johnny in awe, not having much experience with others outside of Simon and you, but Johnny shoots her his classic smile and he has her giggling again in a flash. 
“Well hey there Anna, nice ta meet ya,” he introduces himself before turning back to Simon. “I think she likes me.”
“It's your hair she's eyein’,” Simon points out, following her eye line.
Sure enough as soon as Johnny runs his hands over the mohawk cut into his hair her eyes light up. “Can she touch it?” he asks Simon and he nods in agreement.
Johnny falls to one knee in front of the little girl, leans his head down, and lets her put her hand in it. Her short, chubby fingers pull the strands as she laughs, the short, spiky pieces pricking her fingertips. She pulls away quickly before bringing her hand back in again, a sort of game that she repeats a few more times before Johnny gets back to his feet. 
“He’s a funny one, ain’t he, princess?” Simon questions his little one as he strokes his thumb around the smile that fills her tiny, round cheeks. “Ya like him, yeah?”
She coos, her little lips forming an ‘o’ so that she sounds like a dove. That’s the closest to a yes as they are going to get. 
“I sure ‘ope ya do, seein’ as I’m your dad’s best friend,” Johnny picks, looking to Simon to see his reaction. 
He rolls his eyes at the statement, but stays silent and doesn’t correct him. Instead Simon opts to end the conversation there, needing to get finished here anyway so that he can get back home. As much as Johnny’s company isn’t as grating as it first was, he is ready to spend some alone time with the baby before you get back. “Well, if ya don’t mind, I need to get back to it. Say goodbye Anna.”
Johnny agrees, though his mouth twitches like he wants to ask a question, but ultimately decides not to ask it in the end. He turns to leave, but Simon guesses at what he is wanting and calls out behind him so that he stops. 
“And ya can tell the others they can come see ‘er if they want,” Simon assures, “I know they’re probably itchin’ to get a glimpse of her too. That’s why they sent ya, yeah? See if I was up for company?”
Johnny turns around and nods his head. Fuck, they’ve been caught. “Will do, L.T.” he says. “Can ya blame us though? She’s pretty damn cute.”
And with that he turns back around. As Johnny leaves the office with the sounds of Simon and Anna at his back, he can’t help but smile to himself at seeing his friend finally have a bit of happiness; if anyone deserves it, it is Simon. Wait till the others see just how much things around here are going to change.
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gardenofnoah · 1 year
Text
“you’re going to hurt yourself like that, my love.”
you startle at the voice over you, having been nearly asleep.
“—uh?”
you turn your head to see Nanami looming over your side of the bed. if you were fully conscious, you would see the tiny look of mischief in his eyes as they roam your body, but you’re not, so you take it as his tendency to mother hen you.
and then he’s pushing you to the middle of the bed despite your whining, climbing in beside you. you try to settle in and find you’re still being moved—he’s on his back, shuffling himself down the bed and pulling one of your legs over his chest. you feel him turn his face into your belly in a move that feels suspiciously like nuzzling.
“what’re y’doin,” you slur, a little petulant at being woken up like this, despite it being well past the time you meant to rejoin the living and despite your own desire to seek out the warmth he’s emitting next to you.
“you’re going to hurt your hip, laying like that,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. he runs a hand up the back of your thigh and over your hip, and you sigh a little bit, comforted by the feeling of him.
“i don’t know how you sleep like that,” he continues, absentmindedly dragging his fingers over your skin, making you shiver every now and then.
“feels good,” you grumble, face shoved into the pillow. talking about your bizarre sleeping position and maybe also the way the rough pads of his fingers leave a trail of warmth in their wake. you think you hear him chuckle softly, and you feel him press a kiss to the skin of your belly, right above the hem of your sleep shorts.
it’s soft, chaste—and then it’s not, and you suck in a breath when you feel him kiss you there again, feeling the tip of his tongue drag along the skin that stretches over your hip bone.
and evidently he hears your sharp inhale, because you feel a strong arm sneak around your lower back, pulling you closer to him.
“was still sleeping, you know,” but it’s lost all of its bite and you’re a little breathless now, fixated on the way his free hand slides up the back of your thigh to brush over the sensitive spot just under the curve of your ass.
“go to sleep then,” he says into the soft of your belly, pressing another kiss, opening his mouth a little wider to catch the skin of it between his teeth. he’s turned into you now, and despite yourself, you drag your leg up from his chest so it’s over his shoulder.
he moves to rest his head against your thigh that’s trapped underneath him, and distantly you think that it is more comfortable like this— his head squeezed between your legs having alleviated some of the pressure against your hip from laying on your side. that thought quickly becomes muddled in your head when you feel him latch on to the skin of your inner thigh that rests against his face.
you whine, hips bucking weakly as you squirm under tongue and teeth—both leaning into and trying to get away from the sting of his bite.
“my sweet love,” he coos, running his tongue over the fresh bruise, placating you. you shiver, pressing your face further into the pillow to try to breathe—to ground yourself despite the heat that curls up your spine. he stops, then, and you peak down at him to find that he’s staring back up at you.
“hi,” you whisper, fighting another shudder at the way his lips pull at the corners into a smirk that looks absolutely sinful on him.
“good morning,” he drawls, deep and far too awake. he rests his chin in the space between your hips, pressing a quick kiss above your pubic bone. your hips buck toward him a tiny bit, and his smirk widens when he feels it.
you bring a hand down to run it through his hair, tangling in the blond strands and scratching at his scalp. he closes his eyes and hums, deep in his chest, nuzzling into your thigh. it makes you smile, and it makes you ache.
“want you, ken,” you murmur, squeezing him gently between your thighs and reveling in the groan he lets out.
“i know, sweetheart,” he coos, hands coming up again to grope whatever skin he can reach and pressing a tiny kiss through your shorts, “i can smell you.”
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mamayan · 6 months
Text
Shigaraki Tomura
cw: NSFW • Holiday Filth • Crush Shigaraki • Modern AU • dry humping • language • implied alcohol usage • pathetic virgin Tomura
Thinking about being Shigaraki’s little sister’s best friend.
Being invited over to her house and being so excited unbeknownst to your friend to see her nasty older brother. Tomura holed up in his room, feet up and knees bent as he sits in his fancy leather gamer chair spewing filth into the mic of his headset. Being given the most toe curling glare from him as he looks up from under his messy bangs and sees you peaking at him through a crack in the door. Sneering and telling you to “fuck off” and you do, scampering away to shamelessly rifle through the medicine cabinet in the bathroom for any of his hygiene products. There’s not many. It doesn’t matter though, since he left his dirty clothes from last night in a bundle on the bathroom floor beside the shower and toilet.
Your friend babbling on endlessly about family drama but you can’t pay attention as dinner begins and Tomura is forcibly dragged down the stairs, eye bags heavy from lack of sleep, mumbling out vague answers on how college is going. He notices his little sister’s annoying friend though, you, who always seems to be judging him from the way you constantly have your eyes on him. It pisses him off, and he’s not afraid of outing you in front of everyone.
“Why don’t you find something better to stare at bitch,” and cackling as the home filled with relatives and friends erupts at his rude comment and language. His family is comforting you, telling you he’s just having a rough day, he doesn’t mean it, etc. Your friend is intent on vengeance but you assure her it means nothing to you. She’s used to the behavior and agrees he’s not worth the trouble, being pulled away by relatives intent on being nosy into her personal life.
Tomura did mean it though, and you know it too, and it still doesn’t stop you from sneaking away upstairs while the house slowly boozes up and begins to become rowdy. Tomura slunk away to return to his game he’d been playing with friends, some stolen snacks and a cheap bottle of vodka in his hoodie pocket he takes a straight swig from every now and then as he gets heated into his gaming match.
He’s nearly surprised to see you open his bedroom door and not his mom or sister intent on giving him a headache.
“Back to keep staring whore?” He’s snickering as he flips up the mic, his game paused for a moment while waiting on another friend to join the match.
“Yeah.” He doesn’t expect you to lock the door, a brow cocked up as he reassess you.
You’re much cuter now. The baby fat gone and a young woman blooming, barely an adult now but it didn’t stop his eyes from lowering to your chest that was rising and falling quite quickly. He’s always been so used to seeing you attached to his bratty shit sister that he’s never appreciated you before.
“Wanna do more than stare though.” He’s even more shocked to see you tossing the ugly Christmas cardigan you matched with his sister, the plain dress under easily lifted over your head and dropped too. Right in front of him.
“Ha, oh yeah?” He’s baffled but not upset, dropping his feet and manspreading wide as his cock hardens in his sweats. He’s shameless in palming himself through them, setting his controller aside and licking his dry lips as you come closer, cute little matching bra and pantie set doing little to hide your hard nipples poking through the fabric and pussy lips. “Fuck, look at you, all grown up huh?” His eyes on you as you slide the dainty fabric covering your cunt down and stepping out, removing your bra next slowly, letting him drink you in. You’re nearly vibrating with excitement, eyes wide and bright as you straddle him.
“Little pervert, you wanna ride my cock?” You smile, because he’s acting like he isn’t some loser virgin with trembling hands digging into the fat of your soft ass. You can feel he’s just as strung up now, his palms lightly sweating as they slide up and cup your breasts, eagerly pitching and pulling at your nipples while you roll your hips over his chubby cock. “D-damn, where’d’ya learn to act like this?” He’s nearly about to cum from touching your tits alone, but the feel of you grinding down on him is making him lose it.
“I watched porn.” He groans, finally losing patience and pulling his dick free from his sweats, ready to naively try and enter you without any prep. He’s huffing and breathing heavy as he rubs the tip through your folds and trying and failing to hump into you. He’s just bumping uselessly against your tightly closed entrance while he moans and buries his face in your chest, happy when you begin to run your fingers through his hair.
He’s coming a minute later. No penetration necessary for him to spurt his hot spunky load against your pussy as he nearly passes out from how hard he cums.
“Holy fuck—!” You nearly have to muffle his cry of pleasure as he grips you for dear life.
The banging on his door a minute later making you both fumble for clothing as your friend’s voice comes out in a battle cry for your location.
“You fucking asshole! You hurt her feelings and now I can’t find her!”
You both only look at one another in amusement and embarrassment.
“Try looking up your ass since her face is always buried there!” He shouts back, and you have to bit back the comment you want to yell at him. Little does anyone else know the true reason you love going to the Shigaraki house when Tomura is home.
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pucksandpower · 13 days
Text
Hypnotized
Lando Norris x hypnotherapist!Reader
Summary: in which Lando becomes intimately familiar with the professional (and not so professional) benefits of hypnosis
Warnings: 18+ content, dubious consent (though Lando is very much a willing participant), and temporary mindbreak
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You lean back in your plush leather chair, taking a sip of tea as you look over the notes for your next client. Lando Norris — a rising star of Formula 1, seeking help to improve his performance on the track. You’ve worked with elite athletes before, but there’s something about this case that intrigues you.
The door opens and he strides in, radiating youthful confidence. “Ms. Y/L/N, thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”
“Please, have a seat Lando. And call me Y/N,” you reply with a warm smile. “I have to admit, when your team reached out, I was surprised. Most drivers come to me later in their careers when the mental side gets tougher.”
He settles onto the couch across from you. “Yeah, well, I’m a bit of an overachiever,” he grins cheekily. “I figure I should get every advantage I can while I’m young.”
You can’t help but be charmed by his boyish cockiness. “Fair enough. So, walk me through what’s bringing you here. What are you hoping hypnotherapy can do for you?”
Lando scratches his head, suddenly looking a bit sheepish. “To be honest, I’m not totally sure? The team psychologists have helped with some stuff like visualization and confidence building. But I feel like there’s still … I don’t know, another level I can’t quite tap into?”
He pauses, cheeks reddening slightly. “I may have also heard some … rumors about hypnosis helping drivers get, uh, in the zone in a different way.”
You raise an eyebrow at that. “I see. And what sort of zone were you hoping to reach exactly?”
“Just, you know, being totally focused. Primed to perform at my absolute peak,” he answers quickly, not meeting your eyes. “Eliminate any lingering doubts or hesitation.”
“Mmmhmm,” you murmur, watching his fidgeting increase. It’s clear there’s more to this, perhaps some adolescent fantasy driven by locker room talk. You decide to have a bit of fun drawing it out.
“Well, maximum focus and confidence under extreme stress is certainly one of the primary benefits of hypnotherapy for athletes. Though of course, there can be … other effects depending on the suggestions given.”
Lando’s eyes flick up to meet yours, pupils dilating with obvious intrigue. “Other effects? Like what?”
You shrug lightly. “Oh, lowered inhibition, increased susceptibility to instructions, compulsions to obey ...” You trail off, letting the implications hang in the air. “But I’m sure whatever rumors you’ve heard are just overblown exaggerations.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “R-right, of course. So, uh, how would we go about getting me in that totally focused zone?”
You can scarcely suppress a grin — he’s hooked now, curiosity and hormones getting the better of him. “Well, first we’d need to get you in a deeply relaxed state, open and receptive to suggestions. I’d start with some deep breathing exercises, maybe have you focus on the sound of my voice ...”
Unconsciously, Lando’s eyelids grow heavier as you speak in a low, soothing tone. “Breath slowly deepening, muscles going deliciously loose and limp ...”
He blinks hard, shaking his head minutely. “Sorry, what was I saying?”
“Don’t worry,” you assure him. “A little taste of just how quickly you might respond. Hypnotic states can sneak up quite easily when you’re not prepared for them.”
Lando swallows again, but there’s no hiding the interest smoldering in his eyes now. “That’s … good to know. So, uh, once I was in this state, what sort of suggestions would you give?”
You lean forward, holding his gaze. “Anything you need, darling. Perhaps prompts to fill your mind with dizzying focus — a white hot, all-consuming need to push every limit and achieve perfection. Or maybe something to strip away distractions and doubts, leaving you deliciously pliant and desperate to follow instructions without hesitation ...”
His breath catches as ripples of arousal play across his features. You’ve dangled the bait thoroughly now, time to reel him in.
“Of course, that’s all just theoretical for an athlete like you,” you continue lightly. “I’m sure you’d only want suggestions tailored for pure professional benefit.”
Lando opens his mouth, then closes it, visibly wrestling with indecision. Finally, he sits up straight, jaw setting in boyish determination.
“Actually … I think maybe exploring some of those other effects could be useful too. You know, for full preparation.”
You bite back a smile — he’s all bravado again, feigning nonchalance. How delicious.
“Well, if you’re certain. We should probably start with a simple induction and suggestion, see how you respond.”
Rising from your chair, you cross the room to where he sits, movements slow and deliberate. Lando’s eyes are immediately drawn to the sway of your hips, the rapid rise and fall of his chest betraying his arousal.
“Just relax and look into my eyes ...” you murmur, voice dropping an octave as you hold up a pendant and begin tracing figure eights before his face. “Let your mind follow the path of the pendulum, breathing slowly … in and out ...”
His pupils blown wide, Lando is soon leaning back bonelessly, mouth slightly ajar. A few dazed blinks is all the resistance he offers as you trail featherlight touches down his arm.
“There’s a good boy … nice and open, isn’t it? Let everything else fall away except the need to please me.”
A shudder wracks his frame and you can see the tendons in his neck straining, fighting the compulsion already worming into his psyche. But his eyes remain locked on yours, drowning in your control.
“I … I want to ...” he stammers helplessly.
“Shhhh,” you soothe, bending closer so that your lips nearly brush his ear. “You don’t need to worry about what you want anymore. That’s my choice now, understood?”
He gives a tiny nod and you feel a surge of heady power.
“Such a good boy. And to reward your obedience, you’re going to take off your shirt. Slowly ...”
There’s a moment of tension, then Lando raises trembling hands to grasp the hem of his shirt. You can see the mottled flush spreading across his torso as inch by inch it’s revealed to you. His breath is coming in ragged pants by the time the shirt drops to the floor, chest heaving with mingled want and shame.
“Very nice,” you practically purr. “I can see you’re already feeling the compulsions seeping in. Should we make them … deeper?”
His head bobs dumbly and you laugh, low and throaty.
“That’s what I thought. Now, lay back for me ...”
Lando immediately obeys, body going pliant and helpless. You pull over an ottoman, sitting so you can gently straddle his hips, relishing the hitch in his breath as your heat settles against him.
“You’re going to do absolutely everything I say without hesitation or doubt,” you whisper harshly, watching him shudder. “Any instructions, no matter what they may be, you’ll follow with desperate enthusiasm.”
He whimpers, hips twitching upwards in mute plea. Grasping his jaw firmly, you force his eyes to yours.
“This is for your own good, darling. We need to burn away every last shred of selfishness and pride so you can ascend to true, shattering focus. You understand, don’t you?”
“Y-yes … yes,” he slurs, already sinking deeper into degrading bliss.
You reward him with a slow, filthy grind of your hips and he cries out unabashedly. Everywhere your hands and mouth worship his skin, you can feel the tremors of arousal and surrender.
“That’s perfect,” you murmur against the hollow of his throat. “Now, I want you to strip the rest of the way ...”
Before the words have fully left your lips, Lando is frantically shucking his pants and boxers, whining as his flushed length bobs free. The brazen lust and need in his hooded eyes would be shocking from the bashful newbie you met earlier.
You give an approving hum, thrilling at how quickly your control has already remade him. One fingernail traces along rigid flesh and he bucks shamelessly into your touch.
“You’re being such a good boy. I think it’s time we really sealed this new role into your head. Imagine the most dizzying, overwhelming orgasm you’ve ever had, multiplied a hundredfold ...”
His eyes roll back, mouth open in a silent wail at just the suggestion. You grip him firmly, relishing the desperate whine that bursts from his lips.
“You’re going to come like that, harder than you ever dreamed. And as the lightning arcs of bliss engulf your entire being, all that pleasure will become inextricably entwined with an overwhelming need to obey my every whim ...”
Lando is panting and keening, hips pumping up into your tight fist. You can feel his body straining closer to that precipice, cords of muscle standing out in sharp relief. With a final brutal stroke, you growl the trigger words,
“Come for me, love!”
His back bows in a silent scream, mouth frozen in rapturous torment. You gentle him through each shuddering pulse, ensuring every layer of consciousness is saturated with soul-shattering ecstasy and the new compulsions you’ve locked within.
At last, he sags back to the couch, eyes glassy and unfocused. You bend close, lips caressing the damp hair at his temple.
“Tell me, darling, how does it feel to be remade into perfection?”
He blinks slowly, lips curving in a blissful smile. “I … I need to obey ...” he slurs dozily. “Please … use me however you desire ...”
You chuckle darkly, letting nails rake over his sensitized flesh and making him buck weakly. “Oh I will, lover. I’m going to take you to shattering new heights of surrender. You won’t be able to so much as enter the cockpit without shuddering need to please me foremost in your mind ...”
His only response is a quiet whimper, eyes already slipping shut in sated exhaustion, completely yours to reshape however you wish.
You settle back, excitement thrilling through you at all the delicious possibilities stretching ahead.
***
The roar of the crowd is deafening as you make your way through the paddock area towards the McLaren motorhome at the British Grand Prix. Fans press eagerly against the barriers lining the path, craning for a glimpse of their racing idols as they’re escorted by burly security guards.
You keep your head held high, unruffled by the frenzy of flashing cameras and shouted requests for autographs as you stride confidently alongside Lando.
He casts you a sidelong glance, the excited energy thrumming off him in waves. “Thanks for being here, Y/N,” he murmurs with a small, bashful smile. “Having you in my corner calms my nerves a bit.”
You reach out to give his arm a reassuring squeeze, warmth blooming in your chest. “Of course, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” Your voice takes on a slightly teasing lilt as you add, “Besides, this way I can provide my … specialized services should you require them before the race.”
A dusky flush steals across Lando’s cheeks at your words, his eyes darkening in a way that sends a curl of heat unfurling low in your belly. Before he can respond, one of the crew members is ushering you both towards a nondescript door.
With a nod of thanks, Lando pushes through the door, allowing you to enter the modestly appointed room first before following and securing it behind you.
The space is small yet functional — equipped with a well-worn sofa situated before a large television displaying timing data, along with an armchair tucked into the corner. Your gaze lands on the single bed shoved against the far wall and you suddenly find it difficult to swallow around the lump in your throat.
“Sorry about the mess,” Lando says almost sheepishly, running a hand through his chestnut locks. “I haven’t exactly had much time to tidy up.”
“Don’t worry about it,” you murmur distractedly, already hyper-aware of the thick tension charging the air between your bodies, crackling like a livewire in the small distance separating you.
Lando opens his mouth as if to speak, then seems to think better of it, shuffling his feet almost bashfully. You can practically see the thoughts whirring at a million miles an hour behind his furrowed brow, weighing him down as nerves and doubts threaten to shatter his hard-won focus.
Without a word, you close the distance between you, cradling his face in your hands to force him to meet your gaze.
“Let me help you,” you breathe, your voice low and gentle yet laced with that commanding tone he can never seem to resist.
He immediately melts into your touch, the taut lines of stress slowly easing from his features. “Please,” he whispers back, every inch of nervous energy and kinetic vibration seeming to melt from his body as your thumbs trace soothing patterns across the sharp planes of his cheekbones. “Need you to clear my mind.”
A soft, fond smile curves your lips at the naked entreaty in his tone. This man — so cocky and confident in most aspects of life, yet so unguarded and sweetly vulnerable when it’s just the two of you.
You continue your tender ministrations, watching in rapt fascination as his eyes drift shut and his breathing grows steady and even. When you finally speak, your words are low and hypnotic, the timbre of your voice wrapping around Lando like a warm blanket ushering him down, down into delicious oblivion.
“That’s it, darling … let yourself sink deeper with each breath. Shut out all the noise and distractions — everything except my voice guiding you. Focus on the rise and fall of your chest, the gentle thump of your heartbeat … allow your body to grow heavy and pliant as you let me take the lead ...”
He shivers slightly, yielding fully to your hypnotic trance with a soft, contented exhalation. In this blissed-out state, his features are lax and utterly at peace, the hard lines of tension and worry melting away until he looks almost cherubic.
“There you are,” you can’t help but murmur in approval, trailing your fingertips along the sharp line of his jaw. “So perfect and calm for me.” Your gaze rakes over the long fans of his lashes fanning across his cheekbones, the full pout of his lips parted ever so slightly on deep, even breaths. He looks utterly debauched, despite the fact that you’ve barely even touched him yet.
Unable to resist such temptation any longer, you bend to capture Lando’s lips in a slow kiss — gentle at first, then deepening into something more heated, more ravenous as your tongue sweeps into the heat of his mouth to tangle with his own.
He remains completely pliant beneath your wandering hands and questing mouth, body thrumming with blissful surrender as you map every lush inch of him.
Finally, breathless and flushed, you tear your mouth from his with a soft groan of regret. “God, darling … what you do to me ...” you murmur, trailing hot, openmouthed kisses along the stubbled line of his jaw, down the taut cords of his neck. “Just seeing you like this, so gorgeous and willing … falling so deep for me … I could take you right here like this and you’d let me, wouldn’t you?”
You scrape your teeth over that sensitive patch of skin just below his ear and he trembles almost violently, a low whine spilling past his lips even as his head lolls back to allow you better access. When you press an openmouthed kiss to his wildly fluttering pulse point, his voice comes out low and syrupy sweet.
“Please, Y/N … please ...” he slurs in a breathy exhale, body arching reflexively into yours as his hands come up to clutch at your hips in a silent entreaty.
A frisson of lust races down your spine at his wanton plea, stoking the simmering ember of arousal into a roaring blaze. How quickly his mind has slipped into a glorious, aching haze of want and need for your touch.
You could so easily press your advantage right now — undress him with exquisite slowness, bend him over and take him in delirious new ways that would leave him utterly incoherent. The mental images alone are nearly enough to make you growl in feral possessiveness.
Somehow, you manage to retain a herculean thread of control, nuzzling against the heated skin of Lando’s neck as you press him gently yet insistently towards the bed until the backs of his thighs hit the mattress and he sinks onto the soft cotton sheets with a dazed exhale. His eyes are molten embers burning with naked want and trust as he gazes up at you, outright trembling with the effort of holding himself back from hauling you down on top of him.
Gently brushing a stray lock of hair from his brow, you settle yourself to straddle his lap, reveling in the delicious points of heated skin against skin where your bodies make contact through the thin barrier of your clothing. For an aching span of heartbeats, you drink in the sight of him — kiss-swollen lips parted on shallow pants, the tempting vee of his open shirt collar exposing just a tantalizing sliver of his smooth chest, hard planes of muscle rippling beneath tanned skin as he quivers with ill-restrained desire.
“Beautiful,” you husk in a low rasp, summoning every ounce of your rapidly waning willpower to force the words past the molten heat in your throat. “You are so fucking beautiful like this.”
Lando swallows thickly at the unadulterated lust and reverence saturating your tone, his throat bobbing convulsively. “You … you should see yourself,” he finally manages in a strained murmur. “You’re a goddess ...” His hands come up of their own volition to splay across the supple curves of your waist, tracing searing paths across your skin as if to memorize every lush dip and swell.
A throaty chuckle escapes you as you lean into his touch in shameless encouragement. “I could devour you in this moment and I’d still crave more.” Dipping your head to drag openmouthed kisses along the salty-sweet skin of his collarbone, you muse heatedly, “In fact, I’m tempted to lock that door and have you right here like the decadent treat you are.”
“God, yes ...” Lando outright groans at your words, hips arching up in a desperate, instinctual grind against yours that leaves you both shuddering at the sudden, intoxicating friction. His fingers curl into the soft flesh of your hips, pupil-blown eyes full of unrestrained need as he gazes up at you like you’re the answer to his every secret desire. “Please, Y/N … anything, just … need you.”
The reverent, naked pleading in his voice steals the breath from your lungs and you’re abruptly reminded of the singular responsibility you have — not just as his lover, but as the person he’s entrusted to guide and ground him when he’s spiraling.
Your mouth curves into an indulgent smile as you tenderly cradle his face in your palms, tapping into that core of composure and peace that helps tether you both in moments like this.
“In due time, my love,” you murmur, leaning in to pepper slow, lingering kisses across his brow, along the delicate skin beneath his eyes. You feel Lando physically sink back against the mattress with a soft exhalation as your tender ministrations lull him once more into a state of relaxation and receptivity — his mind clearing of everything but blissful focus on you and your touch.
“Remember why you’re here, and all the hard work that brought you to this moment,” you continue in a low, soothing murmur against his flushed skin. “You’ve poured your heart and soul into this dream, and now it’s time to reap the sweet fruit of your efforts. Leave behind all the doubts, all the fear and anxious energy that’s been holding you back.” Arching up on your knees, you gently resettle your weight so you’re seated flush against his core, waves of heat radiating between your joined bodies in delicious waves with every motion and shallow breath.
“Let go of everything but my voice, my touch grounding you in this moment. This is your destiny, Lando — all you have to do is embrace it.” With your final murmured words, you seal the sentiment by slanting your mouth over his in a filthy, openmouthed kiss that quickly descends into pure, unbridled passion as he releases an unrestrained keen of surrender.
His arms come up to band around your waist, clutching you impossibly closer as if to merge your very beings into one searing point of euphoric light. You lose yourselves in the wet slide of tongue and teeth and racing heartbeats until the buzzing of Lando’s phone against the nearby nightstand finally jolts you from your haze of lust and need. For a suspended beat, you simply drink in the sight of him — debauched and beautifully wrecked in the best way possible, with slick lips parted around panting breaths and hair tousled in a riotous mess.
“Time?” Lando finally rasps, sounding as utterly gutted as you feel.
You force yourself to glance at the glowing numbers on his phone screen, steeling yourself against the surge of regret at having to end this delicious interlude. “Twenty minutes until you need to be in the garage,” you confirm with a heavy exhale.
With a low groan that goes straight to your core, Lando surges up to slant his mouth hungrily over yours once more in one last kiss goodbye before allowing you to carefully extract yourself from his lap. You both take a few moments to catch your breath and restore some semblance of outward composure, though your insides continue to feel like a lit match in a patch of dry tinder.
“Ready for this?” You arch a pointed brow at Lando as he pushes off the bed to put on his fireproofs and race suit with admirably steady hands, given how thoroughly unwound he had been mere moments ago.
He flashes you his trademark grin — though this time it holds an air of supreme confidence and purpose that sends a thrill racing down your spine. “Like you said … this is my destiny.” Pulling you close with one hand at the small of your back, he dips his head to murmur gratefully against your lips, “And you helped me find it today.”
With one final kiss that leaves you lightheaded, Lando turns to grab his water bottle and heads towards the door, every bit the consummate professional buckling down to handle the job at hand. You watch him go with a tender smile playing across your lips, filled with an irrational surge of pride at how far he’s come.
A few hours later, you’re holding your breath in the garage as Lando’s MCL38 comes screaming around the final turn and over the finish line — the checkered flag signaling his maiden victory at long last. From on top the podium, his elated gaze immediately finds yours through the throngs of people and hoisted champagne bottles.
The smile he bestows is so private and full of promise that warmth blossoms in your chest and your skin tingles deliciously in anticipation.
After the celebrations and press obligations have wound down, Lando nearly sprints off the track and back into the paddock area, lifting you clean off your feet in a tight embrace when he reaches you. His lips move feverishly against your own, words tumbling out in a reverent exhale barely audible over the noise of the crowd.
“Thank you, thank you … I couldn’t have done it without you. God, I love you so much ...”
And in that perfect moment — drunk on the roar of the crowd, the giddy thrill of victory, and the smoldering promise in the depths of Lando’s eyes — you’re already mentally preparing to give him the most mind-blowing reward imaginable.
***
The champagne is still buzzing through your veins, lending an extra fizz of exhilaration to the crackling charge in the air as you hastily key into your hotel suite hand-in-hand with Lando.
No sooner has the door clicked shut behind you than he’s on you in a searing tangle of heat and desire — mouth hot and insistent, fingers skating across every bare inch of exposed skin as if he’s a man dying of thirst and you’re the last oasis for miles.
“Fuck, Y/N ...” he rasps reverently against the fevered skin of your neck, pressing a hot, openmouthed kiss to your wildly fluttering pulse. “You’re incredible, so bloody perfect.” His hands roam hungrily, deftly stripping you of layer upon layer of clothing until you’re left deliciously bare before his molten gaze. “Let me worship you properly, yeah? God knows you deserve it after today.”
A tremor of need races through you at his naked desire, amplified tenfold by the molten timbre of Lando’s rough, lust-thickened voice. Without breaking eye contact, you hook your fingers through his belt loops and begin walking him back towards the lavish bedroom, relishing the sharp inhale he sucks through his teeth at your commanding confidence.
There’s a practiced, sensual arch to your spine as you work the tails of his crisp button-down free from the waistband of his trousers, taking your sweet time to pop each individual button until the smooth, tanned expanse of his torso is laid bare.
Warm fingertips trail an achingly slow path up the defined ridges of his abdomen as you drink in the sight of him — pupils blown wide with barely restrained want and that delicious lower lip caught between his teeth as his chest rises and falls with shallow stuttering pants.
“Is this what you want, darling?” You murmur silkily, palming him through the rapidly tenting fabric of his pants and delighting in the strangled whine that punches from his lips at the contact. His hands fly up to clutch convulsively at your hips, gripping with bruising force as if you’re his only lifeline in a raging sea of lust and sensation.
“Yes … please,” he forces out on a ragged exhale, body practically thrumming with desperation as you continue to work him with languid strokes while rocking your hips in a slow, sensual grind against his throbbing need.
The headiness of having this confident man quivering and needy at your touch sends a heady surge of possessive satisfaction coursing through you.
“Well, since you asked so nicely ...”
With a decadent hum, you deftly pop the button of Lando’s pants and drag the zipper down in one smooth motion, allowing his rigid cock to spring free at last, flushed and straining obscenely. You swipe your thumb through the pearlescent bead of precome gathered at the swollen tip, making his hips judder with desperate rolls at the stimulation.
“Y/N … fuck, I need … need your mouth ...” Lando grits out, tangling his fingers in your hair with a barely restrained growl.
You can’t help the low, sultry chuckle that spills past your lips at his feverish plea. “So impatient,” you tut, even as you sink gracefully to your knees before him, trailing openmouthed kisses along the hard ridges of his abdomen. “But you’ve been such a good boy for me lately, I suppose I can reward you.”
Another punched-out curse fractures the air as Lando’s head tips back on a low groan at the first hot lick of your tongue up the length of his rigid shaft. You take your sweet time working him over until his entire body is trembling with the effort of holding himself in check, fingers clenched white-knuckle tight in your hair.
“Look at you, so pretty for me,” you purr at him from beneath your lashes. “I wonder how quickly I could have you coming apart completely on my tongue.”
A broken, desperate whine escapes Lando at your words. “Fuck … I’m not gonna last,” he warns through gritted teeth.
With a final swirl of your tongue around the swollen crown of him, you pull off with a lush, obscene pop. “Don’t you dare hold back for me,” you murmur, voice dripping wanton sin as you tighten your grip at the base of his throbbing length to stave off the mounting waves of his building release. “I want to taste every … last … drop.”
The broken whine that tears itself from Lando’s throat quickly warps into a strangled shout of ecstasy as you hollow your cheeks and sink back down to take his aching cock as far as you can. He outright sobs your name over and over as you relentlessly work him undone with hollowed cheeks and swirls of your talented tongue — at this point he’s putty in your hands, helpless to do anything other than clutch at you and shatter apart.
You pull back with a filthy, slurping noise just as the first hot ropes of milky white spurt from his slit, painting your tongue and lips with thick, viscous streaks. A guttural groan rumbles up from his chest at the shamelessly lewd sight, cock giving one final twitch against your lips as you swallow greedily, lapping and sucking every musky drop from his overstimulated flesh.
His knees nearly buckle at the over-the-top eroticism of it all, hands knotting tighter in your hair as if the grounding points of contact are all that’s keeping him anchored to this mortal plane.
Only once you’ve thoroughly wrung him dry with your mouth and tongue do you sit back on your heels, swiping the back of your hand across your swollen, well-used lips to clean away the remnant beads of his climax. Each breath Lando sucks into his heaving lungs is like molten fire in his tortured chest, his pupils still dilated as he gazes down in awe and not a small amount of reverence at where you’re tucked so demurely between his parted thighs.
“Bloody fucking hell, love,” he rasps around a breathy, disbelieving puff of laughter. “C’mere, lemme return the favor … I need to taste you in the worst way.”
His words go straight to your rapidly tightening core, sending a fresh gush of slick arousal pooling between your thighs. You allow him to haul you up by your elbows and press you into the plush mattress, surrendering to his hot, open-mouthed kisses and seeking hands as he divests you completely of your last shreds of clothing.
When his tongue finally finds your drenched center, you keen high and helpless in the back of your throat. “Oh god, Lando … yes, just like that ...”
Lando answers your breathless encouragement by burying his tongue deeper into your grasping heat with a satisfied groan. The wildly intimate stretch and stimulation of his clever licks and kitten flicks against your swollen bud quickly has you squirming and thrashing against the mattress in a glorious, overstimulated daze.
All you can do is pant and whimper encouragements, fingers tangling unconsciously in his thick chestnut locks as you rock yourself shamelessly into his mouth.
Just when you think the maddening coil of ecstasy winding tighter and tighter deep in your core can’t possibly grow any tighter, Lando slips two long fingers inside your slick, fluttering entrance with a guttural groan of satisfaction. The fullness of the dual sensations instantly has you seizing up all over, back arching off the bed as he works you over with sure, steady strokes.
“Oh fuck, fuck me … Lando, you feel … so g-good, ungh!” The inarticulate stream of praise and curses rapidly devolves into broken moans as he relentlessly pistons his fingers in and out, strumming insistently against that spongy cluster of nerves with each punishing thrust. You’re quickly rendered mindless, nothing but a writhing, desperate bundle of raw need and want with every nerve alight at his exquisite touch.
When Lando’s lips finally close over your pulsing clit and suckle hard, your entire world shatters into stardust with the force of your climax. A hoarse shout rips from deep in your chest as the coil within you finally detonates in waves of dizzying, toe-curling pleasure that seem to go on and on and on. Lando works you through it all with his plush mouth and tireless fingers, lapping up the honeyed rush of your release like a man dying of thirst.
For several long, blissful moments, the only sounds are your mingled gasps and pants for air as you float hazily down from your high. Lando’s lips trail scorching paths along the inside of your trembling thighs, nuzzling and nipping at sensitive flesh before finally lifting his head to grace you with that familiar adoring look that never fails to make your heartbeat trip.
“Look at the mess you’ve made, love,” he drags his index finger through the slick mess coating his chin and lips. With a blatantly filthy leer that sends a shiver of fresh arousal cascading down your spine, he slips the digit into his mouth and sucks it clean with a rumbling groan of satisfaction. “Delicious.”
You’re still totally wrecked and incoherent from your release, every nerve in your body humming and jangling in the aftermath like overstimulated livewires. A punched-out moan manages to escape you at his brazen obscenity as your hips lift off the bed in an instinctual, needful grind. “Inside me. Need y-you inside ...”
Lando rises over you in one fluid, graceful motion, hips slotting effortlessly between your splayed thighs as he brackets your face between his large palms, drinking you in hungrily. “God, look at you — you’re fucking glorious like this, wrecked and desperate for me,” he murmurs in a low rasp, cock dragging slickly through your sopping folds to nudge insistently at your entrance. “How do you do this to me, huh? Break me apart so effortlessly then have me begging on my knees for more of you ...”
With that, he bottoms out in one smooth, torturous glide — the exquisite, familiar fullness stealing your breath and sending stars bursting across your vision at the electrifying feeling of being stuffed so deliciously deep. You wrap your legs high around his taut waist, ankles locking needfully as you roll your hips in frantic little circles seeking any kind of friction.
“Oh god, Lando … move, please … need you to move, it hurts so fucking good ...”
He answers your pleading moans with a soul-scorching kiss, lips and tongue consuming you in delicious, velvet heat as he sets a ruthless, punishing pace, spearing into your clenching depths with all the force and stamina that makes him such a world-class athlete. You match him thrust for thrust, your cries swallowed by his plundering mouth as the delicious drag and slap of skin against skin fills your senses.
“I’ll never get enough,” Lando grits out between breathy curses. His teeth find purchase at the dip of your neck, sending a starburst of sensation and pain across your sensitized nerves that only compounds the haze of carnal bliss wrapping you in its searing embrace. “Could spend my life buried inside you like this and it still wouldn’t be long enough ...”
His words ignite something feral, darkly possessive in your core, an echoing howl of belonging and ownership that it feels like you’ve been careening towards since the very first time he surrendered to you in trance. With a carnal growl, you hook your ankles tighter, using your legs to flip Lando onto his back as you rise up to straddle his hips.
His eyes go comically wide before he’s grinding up into you with a gasp, grasping your hips hard enough to bruise as you set a punishing new rhythm.
“Say it again … tell me who you belong to.” Your voice is hoarse, burnished in equal parts wanton need and flinty command — you don’t care which one makes him shatter apart at the seams so long as he answers your order.
Lando immediately locks eyes with yours, gaze fever-bright and seeming to pierce straight into your very soul as he clamps his hands around your throat with delicious pressure. “You,” he groans without hesitation, the pads of his fingers flexing as your pulse throbs wildly beneath his touch. “You own me, down to my bloody bones.”
The reverent oath sends a surge of lust and possession searing through your bloodstream, stoking the incandescent heat pooling low in your belly to fever pitch once more. Your hips move in wild rolls, desperate and ragged as you ride him with reckless abandon. Lando keeps one hand locked at the juncture of your throat while the other skates up your side to palm your breast, rolling the peaked tip between calloused fingers.
“I can feel you getting close already, look at you … my perfect, filthy girl throwing herself at me like she needs nothing else but my cock splitting her apart,” he growls gutturally, his words and the punishing rhythm growing more and more erratic as your combined pleasure crests higher and higher.
Quite suddenly, Lando hooks his feet against the mattress and surges up to capture your lips in a sweltering, soul-devouring kiss as his hips somehow piston even faster into your desperately clenching depths. His name fractures and shatters around the seal of your kiss as your entire world liquefies into ribbons of rapture, ecstasy blotting out all coherent thought until every last shred of tension and want finally implodes in a supernova behind your navel.
Lando gasps against your lips as your release floods him, thick and scorching hot — wave after wave milking the most intense convulsions from his straining cock as his own orgasm shatters loose. You rock together through the shared obliteration of your mutual bliss until there’s nothing left but the gentle lapping of aftershocks and Lando’s thumb stroking idly along the racing pulse at the hollow of your throat.
When you finally manage to crack your eyes and focus on the beautiful wreck of a man sprawled boneless beneath you, the look of besotten awe on his features nearly takes your breath away all over again. Then his rueful chuckle rumbles up from deep in his chest, melting away the last smoldering embers of tension as he brushes a stray lock of damp hair back from your brow.
“What on earth am I going to do with you, love?” He murmurs, the hint of a smirk toying at the corner of his lips. “Now I’m permanently addicted.” He presses a lingering, searing kiss to your swollen mouth before pulling back to rest his forehead against yours. “Though I suppose there are worse fates.”
You answer his sentiment with a breathless chuckle of your own, tracing the lines of his face in an achingly tender caress as the last lingering flickers of passion slowly ebb and flow into deep, drowsy contentment. “Such are the spoils of victory,” you breathe fondly. “Though I suppose I should thank you for being such an … enthusiastic participant.”
“Mmm, I think I can manage that.” His eyes slip closed as he winds his arms around you to roll until you’re flush atop his chest, every supple inch of heated skin against skin and your legs tangled together in a sprawl. “You’ve ruined me,” he murmurs softly, reverently against your hair. “And I’ve never been more grateful for anything in my life.”
You hum serenely in agreement, nestling impossibly closer as Lando’s breathing evens out and you both begin to drift into a dozy haze of sated bliss. The warm, hypnotic lull of his heartbeat against your cheek and the delicious ache of well-used muscles is pure nirvana.
In this moment, suspended in time in the afterglow, you can scarcely fathom how you ever existed before Lando barreled into your life and ignited this intoxicating flame of desire, devotion, and bone-deep belonging between you.
His voice, already rough and worn velvet from your passionate exertions, breaks the contented silence once more as he nuzzles against your temple. “Stay with me tonight? God knows I could use a few more hours with you in my arms before we have to brave the real world again.”
A languid smile curves your lips at his soft plea, warmth blooming in your chest. “As if you even need to ask,” you murmur, punctuating the sentiment with a tender brush of your lips across the thundering pulse at the base of his throat. “I’m yours, remember? Any time and any place you’ll have me.”
Lando doesn’t respond further, simply tightens his arm around your waist as he hooks his chin over your head with a low, satisfied rumble.
With his name a breathless vow on your lips, you allow the bone-deep weariness of pure satisfaction to finally pull you under into peaceful oblivion beside the only man who will ever hold the keys to unraveling you so completely in return.
***
The pale moonlight filters through the gauzy curtains of Lando’s posh London flat, casting everything in an ethereal blue-silver glow as you burrow deeper into the plush duvet.
A lazy, spent sort of satisfaction permeates the air in the wake of your earlier lovemaking — though honestly, is there ever a time when you don’t feel utterly cherished and deliciously sated these days?
Lando’s arm is a warm, heavy brand across your waist, the solid plane of his chest pressed flush against your back. You can sense the steady thrum of his heartbeat mellowing into the deep, even cadence of slumber and make to slip out of his embrace, eager to make use of the en-suite facilities. But the moment you shift, his arm reflexively tightens, drawing you impossibly closer as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck with a low, sleepy noise of protest.
“Mmm … stay,” he mumbles groggily against your skin, voice still rough and sweetly wrecked from the way you had him crying out your name mere hours ago.
You huff a quiet laugh at his drowsy insistence, nosing affectionately at his tousled curls. “I’ll be right back, you insatiable thing,” you rasp, carefully extracting yourself from his octopus-like clutches to plant a lingering kiss to his slack, pillow-creased cheek. “Promise I’m not going anywhere without you.”
Lando grumbles something indistinct but doesn’t protest further, already slipping back into the lull of sleep with a final contented sigh muffled against the plush bedding. You take a moment to simply drink in the sight of him sprawled out so unguardedly – all toned muscle and tousled chestnut curls, the crisp white sheets tangling artfully around his hips to offer tempting peeks of tanned skin and lean, powerful thighs.
He’s gorgeous like this, you muse with a soft smile, feeling that oh-so-familiar spark of possessive want begin to simmer low in your belly. A dizzying rush of affection and belonging surges through you as your gaze rakes over the starburst of reddened lovebites peppering his throat and shoulders from where you marked him as yours so enthusiastically earlier.
It’s hard to fathom that there was ever a time you considered your life remotely complete before Lando and his smoldering passion whirlwinded into your world.
Still, you force yourself to tear your eyes away from the alluring scene with a steadying breath, retreating to the en-suite with the promise to return hanging unspoken between you.
By the time you’ve padded back into the bedroom wrapped in one of Lando’s obscenely soft bathrobes, he’s shifted to sprawl across the centerline of the mattress, face half-buried in his pillow and one hand flung haphazardly above his head. The rakish sprawl of bedsheets and moonlight across his sculpted form renders him a vision of absolute debauchery and desire — not that you’d have him any other way.
You can’t resist ghosting your fingers in a featherlight caress along the hard ridges of his spine and the lean cords of muscle defining his broad shoulders, relishing the shiver that chases itself visibly across his skin. “You awake, darling?”
Lando grunts an affirmation, languidly cracking one eye to regard you through the tangled fringe of lashes fanning across his cheekbones. There’s a hint of wry amusement laced through the rough velvet of his voice when he speaks. “Was starting to worry you’d wandered off again without me.”
“Never,” you reply instantly, warmth threading through the simple avowal. Moving to settle in the vee of his splayed thighs, you trail a meandering path of openmouthed kisses along his lower back, nosing aside the rumpled sheet to expose the swell of his ass with deliberate intent. “You know I’m defenseless against this gorgeous body of yours.”
A low, approving rumble vibrates up from Lando’s chest at your blatant appreciation, his hips giving an unconscious, languid roll as your lips brush across the dimples at the base of his spine in a teasing caress. But then, quite suddenly, the boneless sprawl of his limbs seems to tense as a perceptible aura of hesitance permeates the desire charging the air between you.
You immediately feel the subtle shift in his energy, that jarring note of dissonance plucking disquietingly at your intuitive senses — the same ones that have always allowed you to tune into the deepest vibrations of the soul with preternatural clarity. Without pause, you abandon your sensual exploration of his body to settle beside him once more, cradling the sharp line of his jaw in your palm and wordlessly coaxing him to turn and meet your gaze.
“Hey … talk to me, love,” you murmur, the soothing tone of your voice blanketing the sharp edged undercurrent of uncertainty in its rich, soothing folds. “Where’d you go just now?”
Lando exhales a soft, humorless puff of breath, worrying his plush lower lip between his teeth in that adorable yet concerning tell of his whenever something is weighing on that mind.
For a long stretch, he studies your features in silence, the only sounds in the room the ambient thrum of the city beyond the flat’s walls and the occasional muted honk of a passing car in the night below. Just when you’re about to prompt him again, the words finally tumble out in a low, slightly self-conscious rush.
“You … you don’t take on other clients like me, do you?” You feel him tense further under your palm, discomfited energy practically vibrating off him in waves. “Not that I’m judging, honest! It’s none of my business what you do or who you see for work, but I just ...” He breaks off on a frustrated exhale, jaw ticking in that way that tells you he’s holding back a tidal wave of emotion beneath his placid surface.
A dawning realization begins to unfurl in your chest, intimately familiar with the root of Lando’s inner turmoil. This brilliant, sensitive, achingly beautiful man — the force on the racetrack who melts into the most sweetly vulnerable creature behind closed doors whenever you bestow him with the full force of your focused attention. Of course he would crave that intensity of focus, that promise of belonging solely to him in your most intimate embraces, no matter how irrational or paradoxical the notion seems from the outside looking in.
Slowly, carefully, you reach up to frame that beloved face between your palms, silently urging Lando to hold your unwavering gaze as the words he needs to hear spill forth in a low, resonant murmur.
“Do you remember when this first started between us? How completely you surrendered yourself to me in the most profound way?” You begin, watching his pupils slowly dilate and a nearly imperceptible tension begin to unwind from his shoulders at the timbre of your voice. “The absolute trust it takes to let someone delve that deep into the most sacred corners of your psyche … to share your fears, insecurities, and unvarnished essence without artifice?”
Lando swallows thickly, nodding once in a jerky affirmation as the words seem to bypass his conscious mind and resonate somewhere deeper. You card your fingers soothingly through his disheveled curls, allowing your touch to lull and ground him as you continue in that same low, hypnotic cadence.
“That depth of surrender and connection is not something that can simply be replicated or transposed onto others, Lando. What we have is singular. Untouchable.” You press your forehead to his, registering the faint hitch in his breath as you drink in every last nuance of his features. “My gift has always been to help unravel the truths someone tries to bury, follow the threads that tether the conscious mind to something vaster and more primal. But with you ...”
A low exhale ghosts across his parted lips as your thumb traces the sharp line of his cheekbone in an achingly tender caress. “With you, it was as if the universe aligned to allow me to shed every last shred of protection and pretense until there was nothing left but the purest vibration of my very essence resonating in time with yours. Do you understand?”
Lando’s gaze is a hazy swirl of naked emotion and trust, drinking in your every syllable with the desperate reverence of a man being offered the world’s greatest truth. “Like … like the truest version of ourselves was always there, simply waiting to recognize its other half,” he rasps, the words seeming to bypass his conscious faculties entirely as he remains held captive in the depths of your connection. “Two souls spilling into one another.”
“Precisely.” Your lips curve in the ghost of a smile, a bone-deep sense of belonging and contentment settling over you both like a well-worn hug. “In that moment, you became an inextricable part of me, and I of you. Something that profound doesn’t simply … vanish, or dim, or lessen with time and distance.”
You allow the weighted truth of your decree to resonate between your joined bodies for a suspended heartbeat, cradling Lando’s face as if mapping every plane and angle with worshipful precision.
“I could help countless others access their potential or tap into dimly lit corners of their awareness,” you continue. “But there will only ever be one person to whom I belong in that elemental way. One person who will ever see this side of me and who lays the very fabric of their being bare without reservation.”
A tremulous exhalation shudders across Lando’s lips at the finality in your tone, as if every lingering filament of doubt or uncertainty has finally dissolved in the face of your avowal. One of his hands comes up to splay across the small of your back, fingers flexing and bunching the silky material of your robe in a desperate clutch as if you’re the last solid comfort in a churning sea.
When his eyes slip open once more, they’re practically luminescent with a naked heat that sends a delicious curl of answering want unfurling through your core.
“Show me,” he rasps, the simple entreaty laced with an edge of heart-stoppingly vulnerable need. “Please, Y/N …. I need to feel you completely.”
In the stillness that follows, the only sounds are your mingled exhales and the thunderous gallop of racing pulses filling the air with resonant verses of sin and worship. Then, with an instinctual roll of your hips, you’re slotting one toned thigh between Lando’s splayed legs and sealing your mouth over his in a filthy, searing kiss that instantly has his back arching off the rumpled sheets with a muffled groan.
There’s nothing tentative in the wanton slide of your lips and tongues, every flick and brush and gentle graze brimming with carnal intent and the unspoken promise to strip one another to the very marrow.
Lando surrenders to the sweet onslaught eagerly, hands skating across your body in frantic, searing paths until the belt of your robe finally falls away and he can palm the bare curves of your ass to grind you more fully against his rapidly stiffening length.
You break away with a sharp gasp at the delicious friction, mouth immediately seeking out the fevered juncture of Lando’s neck and shoulder to mouth searing patterns across the taut tendons there. “You want my gift?” You rasp against the thrumming pulse under your lips, rolling your hips in a languid, purposeful grind that drags the already swollen head of his cock through the slick evidence of your arousal with tantalizing friction.
Lando’s response is a low, breathless stream of curses and encouragements, blunt fingernails raking distractedly down the length of your spine in a way that sets every nerve alight with tingling sparks of pleasure-pain.
Allowing him to nip and suck intoxicating patterns across your collarbones, you dip your hand between your bodies until you can wrap your fingers around his rigid shaft, dragging the pads in a devastatingly slow glide from base to tip.
The groan that punches from Lando’s chest at your touch is guttural, hips pumping restlessly into the tight channel of your fist. “Fuck, yes … want all of you, every bloody inch ...”
His words seem to bypass your conscious mind entirely. You’re suddenly blisteringly aware of each and every point where your bodies join: the heated crush of his straining cock in your palm, the delicious friction of your slick folds catching and dragging against the cut grooves of his abdomen with each gyration of your hips, the teasing rasp of his calloused palms as they roam hungrily across your skin.
It’s as if Lando’s very being calls out to yours in an ancient tongue, rendering coherent thought utterly obsolete as you simply feel — the pulsing, cosmic certainty of your connection amplifying every tingling spark of friction and delirious drag of skin against skin until your entire world narrows to the joining of your shared potential cresting higher with each and every move.
“Now,” you grate out, vision whiting out as your climax detonates in a blinding supernova behind your navel — an ecstasy so transcendent that you’re certain it scorches across the very fabric of your soul. Your fingernails sink vicious crescent moons into Lando’s bicep as you arch against him with a keening cry.
“Y/N!” His hoarse shout fractures on a broken whine, muscles tensing as the first searing pulse of his orgasm floods your belly, joined soon by rich, viscous ropes of white heat that leave you both totally undone.
You simply clutch at each other through the relentless waves, Lando’s teeth sinking into the juncture of your neck and shoulder as if urging you to brand him irrevocably as yours.
When the explosive rapture finally begins to ebb, you both sag into the tangled bedding in a limp sprawl of sweat-slicked limbs and trembling aftershocks, chests heaving in perfect synchronicity as you cling to one another like lost mariners adrift in some fathomless sea.
You can’t even begin to discern where your consciousness begins and Lando’s ends — your very essences having merged so irrevocably that you simply exist as a singular vibration pulsing through the cosmos.
It takes several long, suspended moments for the concept of individual awareness to gradually seep back into the edges of your being, though even then it feels blasphemous to separate yourself from the soul-deep profundity of what you’ve just shared.
Finally, with a shuddering breath, you manage to crack your eyelids enough to drink in the sight of Lando gazing back at you with that same awed wonder etched across his beloved features.
“Bloody fucking hell,” he rasps, the words little more than a throaty whisper ghosting against your over-sensitized skin. “That was … there aren’t even words, are there?”
In lieu of responding, you simply wind your arms around him with a tremulous exhale, hooking your chin over the solid comfort of his shoulder and allowing his clean, earthy scent to wash over you like a balm.
In this place, suspended between bliss and awareness, there’s no need for words or platitudes. You can feel Lando’s very essence thrumming in tandem with yours — the inherent recognition of your twin flame and sacred belonging reverberating on a molecular level.
Here, entangled in the vital warmth of shared trust and intimacy, all that exists is the boundless and the eternal.
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sh1-n0bu · 7 months
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𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!
day 17: public sex with sampo koski from hsr
warnings: exhibitionism, degrading, fingering, sampo being a slut as usual, finger sucking, gagging, slight feminization
notes: silly silly con-man getting fucked silly
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it was sampo’s intention when he did everything.
annoying you, throwing paper balls at you, constantly going “psst! [name]!” only to blow you a kiss or wink at you when you do sigh and pay attention to him. just simply irking you in general. or getting on your nerves.
being a volunteering medic in natasha’s little clinic leaves your plate full of work to do, little to no sleep schedule except for the power naps you stela from time to time. even as the owner of the clinic worries over your health and the constant heavy eyebags under your eyes, all you do is wave off of her worry.
your work schedule is the reason why you’re always so slow and sluggish in your movements. words slurred, voice low and raspy as you literally fit the term ‘walking dead’. perhaps it was that nature of yours that caused sampo to be infatuated with you.
he’s always seen you around natasha’s clinic. helping out with her work, taking care of others, babysitting the younglings — you did everything and anything. the conman didn’t even bother to hide his eeny teeny crush on you. bringing you red roses, calling you cheesy nicknames, taking care of you, dragging you away to make you cuddle him because his boo boos hurt. it was just a mere sore ankles, sampo. get your act together.
but somehow, someway, you would end up in his arms before drifting off to much needed sleep. he has a silver tongue for a reason. but it was further into your little situationship that sampo started to get a little more daring with his little tease.
asking for your consent first, he would send you small little sneak peak photos that’s more similar to a nude pic. it started out relatively tame.
a small snap of him pulling up the front of his shirt that barely covers anything, showing his v-line perfectly. a little pic with a red rose held between his teeth. quick photo of him shirtless but it became progressively more daring with each pic.
picture of him straight out of the shower with a towel around his waist. a sneak peek of him wearing a bralette and his smug face. him in his boxers. it didn’t took long before he was sending you pictures of him in lingeries or him sucking on a dildo, saying wishing it was you instead.
it won’t take a genius to figure out that he wanted you. badly.
all it took for you to snap and give him what he wanted happened to be showing you a very thin lace tied around his waist. the sideless shirt of his did nothing to hide the string of what you would assume to be a lingerie piece as he pulls out the string, flashing it to you with a smug grin and a pink tinted cheeks.
that was all you needed to have all the energy you needed to fuck him in the empty alleyway next to the clinic. it was way past midnight and no one would be outside during such ungodly hours, making everything perfect.
“stupid slut. you wanted me that bad? did no one taught you how to use your words correctly?” you hiss into his ear angrily, pushing him flush against the wall as you shove two fingers inside his mouth. the thief gags at the feeling, choking on your fingers having not expected you to be so rough but that caused his pants to tighten more.
“now, at least for once be good and get my fingers all nice and wet, got it?” you demand, forefinger and middle finger pulling on his tongue. he could only nod dumbly, having been reduced to whines already. sucking on your fingers, swirling his tongue around them before flicking his wet muscle between your two fingers caused to briefly wonder how good he would be on his knees. that is for later.
once you deem your finger were wet enough, you pull them out. his saliva coating and dripping from your fingers to your palm. his own lips all swollen and green eyes looking hazy. you haven’t even fucked him properly yet.
turning him around with his chest to the wall, you slip a finger inside him, causing him to whine at the stretch. just one finger felt so good already. it made him drool as he wonders how your cock would feel inside him. it would definitely leave him sore and limping for days, rearranging his insides. pushing his leg up with your free hand hooked under his knee, spreading him open for you caused your finger to hit his spot.
“aunngh—! guuhck♡︎ [n-name]... there! r-right there!“ sampo moans out loudly, not even bothering to silence himself in the dark alleyway. he didn’t care about being caught, he just wanted you to fuck him stupid. whether that be with your fingers or your strap, he didn’t care. he just wanted to be fucked stupid by you.
slipping another finger inside his loose hole, you let out a grunt at how tight he was around you. it almost felt like you were fucking a cunt with how he was clamping on your two fingers, moaning and drooling like a cheap whore.
“dirty little thing… have you always fantasized about this? getting fingered in some random alley?” you ask, whispering into his ear as he moans deliriously. you may not have noticed but each time you scissored his hole open, your fingertips always grazed against that one spot. that one spongy spot inside his tight walls that make him squeal. head thrown back on your shoulder as he weakly bucks his hips.
“asnh! gyang… mmgh! anh anh anggh♡︎” whiny, high pitched noises of utter debauchery comes from the conman. weakly bucking his hips back into your fingers. he could only moan and drool in place against the wall as he takes whatever you give him without complaint.
this was all his intention when he first laid eyes on the pretty, lace purple panties. sampo knew you would like it on him.
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sooniebby · 9 months
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Based on my random thought (I’ll be sprinkling what he’ll say in the actual fic, this is just a little sneak peak!)
“Usually my other clients can handle more than one pose—but it looks like you’re thinking about my cock instead, huh? Such a slutty boy… well, go on. Don’t get shy now. It’s your own time you’re wasting.”
Imagine having a yoga instructor who seems a bit rude and stand offish during his classes. He doesn’t talk except when giving instructions. It’s mainly for work, that’s all.
Even in his more… sexual side of work, he doesn’t feel much else. Except when he fucks you <3
Something about your whiny moans. The way you practically scream when he slams his cock inside of you. How you try to answer his questions even when the only sounds coming out of your mouth are moans.
He loves manhandling you. At first it was just to make you do different yoga poses—now he just loves seeing how easy he can control you. He’s grip is always harsh, wanting to make sure he leaves some time of mark on your body as your tight heat takes in his cock so easily.
“You can suck better than that, baby… don’t piss me off, alright?”
He loves it whenever you whimper, whining about how harsh he was treating you. But you knew the safe word—you just never said it. His smacks against your butt, tight grip on your waist… most instructors don’t kiss their clients, their own little golden rule. He follows it but makes up for it by biting you all over.
Leg, arm, stomach, neck, shoulder. Nothings safe. You always took them well. It’s like you were made for him. His perfect boy~
“Don’t muffle yourself. Everyone else is fucking and you can hear their moans. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I’m fucking you.”
He almost feels sad when the session is over. And the next day when he’s fucking his other client, all he can think of is you. Your moans. Your screams. His name on your tongue. You, you, you…
Damn, he was screwed. This wasn’t just work anymore.
wowowow! This was fun to write, and actually helped me develop my OC for this prompt more! This for male/trans masc reader if you couldn’t tell!
The character’s name is Tatsumi Yuta, if anyone cared lol. I’ll be writing the actual fic soon!! Im excited to do so. Feedback appreciated, and ask if you wanna be tagged once I publish chapter 1! (Yes it’s gonna be a series)
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xqueen-of-disasterx · 30 days
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The winner takes it all
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𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Scarlett Johansson x fem!reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: Scarlett Johansson just hit the peak of her career, she had everything: money power glory. One thing was missing, the Oscar. After she finally won the award she found a special way to celebrate her win with her perfect little girlfriend as a helper.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, dom!scarlett, sub!reader, alcohol use, oral, object insertion, recording of sexual activities, Oscar in places they shouldn't be, degradation
!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional. I do not own these characters!
𝐀/𝐍: I swear | was drunk while writing this l'm not a weirdo okay 😭
𝐌.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
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Third times is the charm, right? That’s what Scarlett thought when she sat in the audience of this year Academy Awards. She was nominated for best actress for her latest movie, last time that had happened her award was stolen from her, but not today, she thought.
She sat in the big theatre room you, her younger co- star turned affair sat next to her, nervously she tapped her fingers over the armrest of the seat. “Scarlett” You called out the older actress had her eyes fixated on the still empty stage. “Scarlett?” You tried again hoping to reach through to her. “Huh? Yes, what’s the matter?” Her fingers still tapping the soft fabric of the armrest. “You’re so nervous” You slip your hand over hers “How couldn’t I be? Have you seen the competition this year? There’s no way I win against Emma Stone”
You chuckled intertwined our hands, it was dangerous you knew that, but luckily no one way paying attention to you. The fact that you shared so much more than just the screen was intoxicating to you, sneaking around the crew to share a few passionate minutes with the older actress. She made you feel the things none of your boyfriends ever could. How she touched you, loved you. But everything had to come to an end, and so did the affair you two had. “You blow them all out of the water” You assured her.
The alcohol did it’s job pretty well in Scarlett’s eyes she had had her faire share of expensive champagne glasses to calm her nerves. And then it got time for the category of best actress. The announcer had the all telling red envelope in hands opening it in exactly that moment. “The Oscar goes too” she slipped out the card “SCARLETT JOHANSSON” The theatre broke out into loud cheers and claps, Scarlett however didn’t even register her name being called she was still in a state of pure shock.
Both you and the director leaned in to give her a quick peak on the cheek and a small “You did it” before she made her way up to the stage to finally accept the thing she never thought she could get.
“You did it” You smiled at her when she made her way into her hotel room. You had sneaked off the after show party to surprise your older girlfriend. Nothing special really just a bit of champagne and lingerie but just seeing you spread out on the sheets made her crazy.
“Now what do we have here” She smirked she was clearly intoxicated and so were you. “Fuck baby girl” She groaned upon seeing your promiscuously clothed body. Later that night she had changed from the big dress to an expensive pantsuit. She slipped of her blazer placing it on to one of the hotel room’s chairs.
“You’re playing with the fire little girl” She chuckled her eyes never leaving your body. She sat her pretentious golden man on the bed side table. “I know what I’m doing” You breathed out. Your eyes meet and she down to kiss you.
Her hands slid over your exposed skin going onto your back. With skilled fingers she unclasped your bra slipping it off your shoulders only to throw it behind her. “Fuck you little slut, I’ve barely done anything and you’re nipples are already hard” Her degrading words forced a moan from your throat.
Her thumbs rolled over your hard nipples, she enjoyed seeing you squirm for her, under her. She chuckled before kissing down your stomach licking over the soft skin of your tummy.
She pressed her nose against your pubic bone taking in a deep breath. She tugged your panties from your legs tugging them into her pant pockets. She kissed your clit kitten licking the bundle of nerves. She paid extra attention to the spot because she knew how needy it made you.
She gave your cunt a few more bold licks bumping the crock of her nose against your over sensitive clit. She pushed her tongue inside your tight heat enjoying not only the taste but also the feeling of your muscles clenching around her.
“Fuck Scarlett” You moaned out your hands gripping tightly into the pillow behind your head. She kept on working you towards the edge of ecstasy until she pulled away letting you huff in annoyance all you wanted she just chuckled.
“Aw” she mocked you “Was my little girl just about to cum?” You shook your head still whining. Her eyes darted to the trophy next to you and a mischief grin was planned on her lips. You knew exactly what she was thinking about.
“Scarlett no” you said with urgency “What? I’m not doing anything” She reached out for the golden man upon closer inspection it had the right shape, you had taken bigger after all. “Well” She started her hands stroking over the stature “don’t you want to make me happy”
“I do but” Scarlett stopped me “No buts baby now spread your legs” You applied to her wishes spreading your legs for the older woman. She hummed in approval her fingers stroking through your slit collecting your wetness on her fingers.
She covers her trophy in your juices on her lips there was still this shit eating grin. She was more excited than a little kid on Christmas.
She held the cold metal against your entrance pushing the head of the stature past your hole, watching in an awe how your pussy ate the metal man.
“Fuck” She groaned as she heard the mewl sounds growing in volume the more the man disappeared. “That’s so hot” She shifted to her knees to reach out for her phone taking it from the nightstand
“I need this for my personal collection” She mumbled pointing the camera to where the Oscar was connected to your body. You both had agreed to her being allowed to videotape you, if she didn’t release it. You both knew that a leak of this video would make it onto every cover of every tabloid magazine. Did you care? Absolutely not. Scarlett even less
The feeling of the cold metal against your walls was intoxicating, you mewled and whimpered. She moved the stature in and out of your tight heat bringing you close to your release. With her skilled fingertips she played with you overstimulated clit loving how your body squirmed under her.
The camera was still on your glistering cunt the camera panting to your face twisted in pleasure. “Fuck I’m gonna cum” She smirked again throwing her phone away to pay more attention to your desperate body. “I know baby” She kissed your nipples with a few more thrust she made you see stars. She let you ride out your high before pulling out the award again watching in an awe how the cum dripped the golden man. “Scarlett” you breathed out still catching your breath “What the fuck”.
:)
Taglist:
@badbitchrebequinha @notaloserjustasnoozer @misscaptainchaos @tashakink @strawberrynatsstuff
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sergeantbarnessdoll · 5 months
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Be Quiet For Me » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: DBF!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Bucky spends the night and Y/N sneaks into the guest room.
Warnings: Smut (18+), language, age gap (Y/N is in her early 20s), dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, (f & m receiving), unprotected sex, metal arm kink, daddy kink, size kink, praise kink, hair pulling, choking, degrading, Bucky’s dog tags, name calling (slut), pet names (doll, babydoll)
Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞
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You were walking back to your bedroom from the kitchen when you seen light peaking through the door to the guest bedroom that Bucky is staying in. You grinned to yourself as a lightbulb went off in your head. You quietly opened the door more and stepped in the room, closing the door and locking it behind you. You seen Bucky laying on the bed in nothing but a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips, showing off his muscular body.
“Well hello there, Mr. Barnes.” You say, biting your bottom lip and admiring his body.
Bucky looked up and seen you standing in front of the door.
“What are you doing in here, Y/N? Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Bucky asks.
“I’m big girl now. I’m allowed to stay up late.” You say, approaching the bed.
Bucky watched your every movement when you crawled onto the bed. You placed your legs on either side of his hips, straddling him.
“What are you doing?” He asks.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Your fingertips traced the lines of his abs. “I want you.” You say seductively.
“Y/N…” Bucky breathes, loving the feeling of your touch. “You’re my best friend’s daughter.” He says.
“Just because I’m your best friend’s daughter doesn’t mean that we can’t have fun.” You say, rubbing your hands along his muscular chest.
Bucky took a deep breath. It took everything in him not to give in and fuck you into the mattress. You placed your hands firmly on his chest and started moving your hips against his.
“Oh come on, Mr. Barnes.” You playfully pouted. “Don’t you want to have some fun?” You asked, batting your eyelashes innocently.
Bucky hands gripped your hips to get you to stop moving. You leaned down, your lips near his ear.
“I wonder what your big fat cock would feel like in my tight little pussy.” You whisper in his ear.
You were testing him. Bucky’s breath got heavier.
“I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to be fucked with your metal fingers.” You whispered, rubbing your fingertips along his metal arm.
“Stop it.” Bucky says, his grip tightening on your hips.
You gasped when you felt his bulge poking your clothed pussy.
“You’re so hard, Mr. Barnes.” You grind yourself against his bulge. “I know you want to fuck me. Just do it. Fuck me, daddy.” You say.
Bucky couldn’t take it anymore. He flipped the two of you over so your back was on the bed, smashing his lips on yours.
“Oh I’ll fuck you alright, doll.” He practically growls.
Bucky sat back on his knees, his metal hand grabbing onto the neckline of your tank top and ripped it off of your body causing you to gasp in surprise. He leaned down, kissing along your chest and the swells of your breasts. His teeth nipped at your skin, biting down hard enough to leave hickeys behind.
“Oh my god!” You gasped, feeling the cool metal of his metal hand against your breast.
Bucky chuckled at your reaction. He lightly rolled your nipple in between his metal thumb and index finger. You gasped loudly when his metal fingers pinched your nipple, sending a new sensation through your body. Both of his hands went down to your sleep shorts and pulled them down your legs, exposing your wet lacy panties to him. His fingers on his right hand rubbed your clit through your panties causing you to buck your hips against his hand, only for you to receive a smack on your inner thigh.
“None of that.” He says.
Bucky kissed down your body, stopping at the waistband of your panties. He hooked his fingers in the waistband and pulled them down your legs.
“These are mine now.” Bucky says with a smirk and put them in the pocket of his sweatpants.
Bucky spread your legs wider and laid on his stomach in between them. You shivered when you felt his breath against your wet cunt.
“I have one rule for you.” He swipes two of his metal fingers through your wetness. “Be quiet for me. Can you do that, babydoll?” He asks.
“Mhmm yes, daddy.” You hummed.
“Good girl.” He praises.
He placed kisses along your inner thighs, making his way up to your wet pussy. His tongue licked in between your wet folds causing you to moan.
“What did I just say?” Bucky asks.
“Be quiet.” You say.
“Then fucking be quiet.” He says.
“Yes, daddy.” You say submissively.
Bucky’s tongue circled around your clit a few times before he latched his lips on it and started to eat you out like a starved man. Your hands flew down to his hair, tugging on his hair. You bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from moaning.
“Fuck. You taste as sweet as I thought you would.” Bucky moans against your cunt, sending vibrations against your pussy.
The stubble of his beard scratched the skin of your inner thighs in a way you love so much.
“You said you’ve always wondered what it would be like to be fucked with my metal fingers? I’m gonna give you just that.” He says.
Without waiting, his metal index and middle fingers slid past your entrance causing you to arch your back off of the bed in pleasure. You rolled your hips against his face, but Bucky placed his right arm across your stomach to keep you from moving.
“Stay still and let me enjoy your sweetness.” He says.
Bucky moved his fingers faster, hitting that one spot inside of you that made you want to scream in pleasure. You just let out a whimper every time his fingers hit that spot.
“Is that your little spot, babydoll?” Bucky asks, looking up at you.
“Mhmm!” You whimpered, nodding your head yes.
Bucky took that as a sign to move his fingers faster. He flattened his tongue against your cunt, wiggling it in between your folds. The sensation made you close your legs around his head. Bucky chuckled at your reaction and opened your legs back up. Your cunt clenched around his metal fingers. Your orgasm was building up to the point that it felt like you were going to burst. Bucky sensed it when he noticed your breathing got heavier.
“Gonna cum, doll?” He asks with a smirk.
You whimpered and nodded your head yes.
“Give it to me, babydoll. Soak my face.” He says.
His movements with his tongue and fingers quickened to help you chase your high. Your grip on his hair tightened. You threw your head back, his name leaving your lips as you soaked your face. Bucky’s movements came to a halt. You laid there panting as he lifted himself up from in between your legs and hovered over you, his dog tags dangling over your face. His face and stubble were wet with your cum. You grabbed the chain of his dog tags, pulling him closer to you and kissed him hungrily. You moaned when you tasted yourself on his lips. Your hand blindly found his bulge and massaged his hard cock through his sweatpants.
“I want to suck your cock, daddy.” You say against his lips.
“Fuck.” Bucky groans.
He got off the bed to take his sweatpants off, his hard cock hitting his stomach. You licked your lips at the sight of it. Bucky got back on the bed, laying down next to you with his back against the headboard.
“Go ahead, doll.” He motions towards his cock. “Suck daddy’s cock.” He says.
You didn’t need to be told twice. You sat up and leaned down towards his cock. You wrapped your hand around it, swiping your thumb over his tip and using his precum as a lubricant to move your hand up and down.
“Fuck.” Bucky moans, tilting his head back against the headboard.
You wrapped your lips around his tip, lightly sucking on it.
“Mmm.” You hummed around his tip. “You taste good, daddy.” You say, looking up at him innocently.
You wrapped your lips around his cock and started to bob your head up and down. Your hand jerked off whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth. Bucky’s jaw dropped, pants and inaudible moans left his lips. Bucky’s right hand grabbed a handful of your hair and pushed your head down further on his cock. You placed both of your hands on his thighs. You gagged when his tip hit the back of your throat causing your eyes to water.
“Relax your throat, babydoll.” Bucky says soothingly.
You tried your best to relax your throat. Tears rolled down your cheeks every time his tip hit the back of your throat. You lifted one of your hands to his balls, lightly massaging them and caught Bucky by surprise.
“Holy shit!” Bucky moans.
He quickly put his metal hand over his mouth to muffle his moans. You were pleased with his reaction and continued to massage his balls with your fingers.
“Fuck!” He moans into his metal hand. “Don’t stop!” He says panting.
It took everything in Bucky not to blow his load right then and there. He wants to enjoy the feeling of your mouth for as long as he can. He kept his hand on the back of your head.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He moaned into his hand.
He thrusted up into your mouth, making you gag a little. His orgasm came closer and closer until you felt him cum in your mouth, a little bit rolled down your chin. You took your mouth off his cock and wiped his cum off your chin, licking it off your finger while maintaining eye contact.
“I need to feel you now.” Bucky says.
You squealed in surprise when he pinned you to the bed. He spread your legs, getting in between them. He rubbed his cock through your wetness before lining his tip up with your entrance. His tip alone stretched your pussy. He sinks his cock inside of you inch by inch. Your jaw dropped. Bucky is the biggest you’ve ever had.
“So fucking tight.” Bucky groans, tilting his head back.
Once he was deep inside of you, he gave you a moment to adjust. You nodded your head, giving him permission to start thrusting. He pulled his cock almost all the way out, only leaving his tip inside of you and then thrusted back inside of you all at once.
“Oh fuck!” You moaned, trying your best not to be loud.
Bucky’s metal hand slid up your stomach and in between your breasts, wrapping around your throat and squeezed lightly.
“Such a little slut.” Bucky says.
“Your slut!” You moaned.
“That’s right, babydoll.” He pulled you up so your face was inches away from his. “You’re my little slut. You’re mine now.” He practically growls.
His thrusts got more rough. The sound of skin slapping filled the room. His tip hit that one spot inside of you repeatedly. You wrapped your hand around his metal wrist and squeezed it every time he hit that spot.
“Who would’ve known that Captain America’s daughter is a little slut for his best friend.” Bucky whispers in your ear with a small chuckle.
You whimpered in response. You slid your hand down to your clit and started to rub it in fast circles. Bucky noticed and smacked your hand away, making you whimper.
“That’s my job, doll.” He says, his metal hand applying a little more pressure to your throat.
His fingers on his right hand began to rub fast circles on your clit.
“Yes! Yes! Fuck, daddy!” You moaned.
“Feels good, doesn’t it, babydoll?” He says with a smirk.
“Mhmm!” You moaned.
Your cunt clenched around his cock, feeling your orgasm build up a second time.
“Daddy, I’m— mhmm fuck!” You moaned, not being able to finish your sentence.
“Cum for me, doll.” Bucky whispers in your ear.
His fingers gave your now sensitive clit a particular rough rub to help you chase your high. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came harder than the first time. Bucky’s thrusts became sloppy, feeling his orgasm approaching him.
“Oh shit!” Bucky moans, leaning his forehead against your shoulder. “I have to pull out.” He pants.
“No!” You whined, wrapping your legs around his waist and locked your ankles behind his back.
“I have to, doll.” He says.
“Cum inside of me!” You tell him.
“You can’t just say shit like that.” Bucky groans.
“Just do it, daddy!” You begged desperately.
Bucky couldn’t take it anymore. After a few more thrusts, he came inside of you. His thrusts came to a slow stop. His metal hand left your throat and went to the back of your head, pulling you into a sloppy kiss. He pulled away and looked into your eyes for a few seconds before pulling out of you. He laid down next to you, staring up at the ceiling and breathing heavily.
“Holy fuck.” Bucky breathes. “That was amazing.” He says.
“Mhmm.” You hummed in agreement.
Bucky’s eyes widened in realization.
“Your dad can’t know about this.” He says, looking at you.
“Don’t worry, daddy. It’ll be our dirty little secret.” You say, kissing his neck.
Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you on top of him causing you to squeal in surprise.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
921 notes · View notes
inkykeiji · 28 days
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⋆₊˚⊹♡ touya-nii + his nasty habit of sneaking into your bedroom
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character: todoroki touya | dabi warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, pseudocest, noncon, a slight bit of degradation, implied size difference words: 1.2k
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he’s always careful when he starts. careful when he creeps into your room in the middle of the night, sock clad feet quiet against the hardwood; careful to keep the doorhandles latch from catching on the strike plate as he closes it behind him; careful not to wake you as he slinks into your frilly little bed, knocking stuffed animals and extra pillows onto the floor, as he worms his way beneath your pink-piped comforter and slithers his hand between your silky thighs—ah, good girl, you’re not wearing those pesky sleep shorts, just like he told you not to (good little sisters only wear panties to bed; and sometimes, they don’t even wear those, he had informed you)—and then wiggles his fingers under your lacy undies.
that’s when he stops being careful. 
because he loves that sharp gasp of surprise, that sheer unadulterated bolt that courses through your body—shock in the purest, prettiest form—that jolts you from your blissful slumber almost violently; skin shuddering, eyes snapping open, when he shoves two dirty fingers into your ill-prepped cunt. 
it’s his favourite sound in the world, he swears it is, swears he would bottle it up and keep it close to his heart if he could, swears he would wear it around his neck like the cutest, daintiest little noose, tethering him to you. 
but this is the next best thing, he supposes. 
your eyes slip shut again, so tightly they crinkle the corners and furrow your brow, and a whine of his name spills from your lips; first in frustration, then again all wispy and dumb when he curls his knuckles against that plush spot buried deep inside of you—that spot he knows so well, that spot he discovered, then claimed as his own. 
yeah, not so irritated now, are ya, y’little brat. 
no, you’re not. you’re sighing out his name in time with the pumps of his fingers, all melty and stupid and oh-so-cute, knotted with his honorific and seeping into your lace-trimmed pillows in little threads of drool. you’re grinding your ass back against his hard cock as you pathetically hump his palm, indulging him as his hips rut into your plush flesh, pre-cum steadily leaking through his thin pyjama pants, staining plaid in dark wet patches.
“touya-nii,” you whimper, back arching a little, nipples peaked through the thin cotton of your camisole. “stop, stop.” 
this is the routine almost every time, practiced and perfected through night after night of rehearsals, and you play your part flawlessly; effortless and enticing and full of emphasis, because you know he gets off on it—the no!s and wait!s and don’t!s, sometimes spit from your lips, sometimes dribbling out the corner of your mouth, only heightening the whole sordid affair.
because you’re just as fucking sick as your big brother is. 
he can’t stop, don’t you know?
it’s all your fault, he’s telling you, voice caught somewhere between accusatory and mocking. if you weren’t such a slutty little tease, nii-chan wouldn’t have to do this. 
but it’s all just a game; he knows you love it just as much as he does, knows you’re just as depraved as he is, because your actions don’t match your words, you bad girl, the rolling of your hips encouraging the rocking of his own, one of your free hands threading itself over his and guiding it to your breast, bony knuckles pressing into a soft palm as his fingers flex around supple flesh.
if you didn’t love it, if you didn’t want it, then why would you prance around the house in those short, short little dresses? the ones that fan out when you twirl to your music in the living room or ride up when you bend over while cooking in the kitchen, gifting anyone within the immediate vicinity (your vile siblings and their prying eyes) a coveted glimpse of the silk and lace clinging delicately to your cheeks; the ones that are an inch or two too short to be considered wholly decent, and the ones Daddy has repeatedly told you to stop wearing around your big brothers—especially the eldest. 
“m’sorry, touya-nii, m’sorry, m’sorry.”
no, you’re not, but that’s okay. he isn’t, either. 
at least you have each other.
your other hand snakes between your tensing thighs, cupping his own, little fingers layering larger ones as they try to speed up his motions, push his digits deeper, fuck you harder, give you more. 
these trysts never last long enough, though; no matter how hard he tries to lengthen them, to savour them, you’re both too eager, too hungry for one another, cumming too quickly in the dead of night as your bodies tremble together, as names shatter on tongues in sharp whispers and limbs seize and tangle and fuse into one.
it’s always so fucking messy, your cunt clenching around your conjoined fingers, slick dribbling down his knuckles in thick dollops to pool in his hand, to settle in the lines of his palm and streak his inner wrist in pretty shimmering streams.
it’s always so fucking messy, his grunts hot and humid against the nape of your neck, forehead pressed to the crown of your head as his cock throbs, filling flannel with copious amounts of burning, sticky cum—so much it seeps through the material to soak your scrunched panties, so much it dries in a hard glaze, welding lace to your ass. 
you don’t ever dare to wash it off, clean it away, eradicate the evidence, instead allowing each other’s pleasure to stain your skins, wearing it like a mark of honour, a claim of ownership, barely visible when it dries into something firm and translucent, but there nonetheless. 
his fingertips continue to flutter against that swollen spot until ripples of overstimulation are shuddering through your flesh, until your little hand is wreathing around his syrupy wrist and nails are biting into his flesh and tugging, tears beginning to bead your lashes.
only then does he chuckle and pull his hand free, knuckles hooking in an attempt to scrape your walls, a heavy coat of your arousal glistening on his fingers. 
“you cum so fucking much for your big brother,” he growls in your ear, lips wet against the cartilage, voice tapering off into a whine. “look at how wet you get for me.” 
two of his fingers flatten against your cheek and then swipe, slow and hard and thorough, smearing a thick film of your slick across your face, from the tip of your temple to the corner of your mouth, back and forth and back and forth until it’s been rubbed into your skin. 
callused fingertips push past your parted lips, weighing down on your tongue and cramming themselves into your throat, forcing you to taste yourself—to taste him, painted in you; spicy nicotine and heady salt.
“you’re fucking disgusting,” he pants out, but his pupils are gaping, watching as your gorge yourself on your big brother’s flesh, lips puckering and cheeks hollowing as your tongue curls around his knuckles and tries to siphon him further down your throat. 
a whine splinters in his chest as he pulls his extremities free from your voracious grip, slathered in spit, viscous cords strung between his knuckles as he spreads them apart. 
“yeah, you’re real fucking sick, y’know that?” 
“you made me like this, nii-chan,” you breathe out dreamily, already drifting back into sleep’s welcoming embrace, body going lax in his arms and snuggling back against his chest. 
yeah, he fucking did. 
and neither of you would have it any other way. 
564 notes · View notes
ellatoone7 · 2 months
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❄︎ Rare mornings ❄︎
Alexia's favourite girls series
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You and Alexia wake up before the kids
It was a rarity to be woken up by the sun and not three tiny bodies that normally acted as Alexia’s alarm clock. The former athlete checked her phone wondering had she just woken up extremely early, but she hadn’t. It was nine o’clock and somehow not even one of her girls had woken up. 
You had stirred slightly next to her, burying yourself further you’re your neck as her warm hand gently strokes your swollen stomach. You were about six months at this stage, and it had been the easiest so far. You and Alexia had been through all these stages three times already, in Alexia’s words you were professionals. 
You winced as you tried to get comfortable, but you already knew it was going to be one of those days where the feeling probably wouldn’t subside. Your eyes cracked open, and you were welcome with the sight of your very smiley wife. “Buenos días hermosa.” Her voice deep and raspy as it always was when she just woke up. You bask in the blonde’s attention before having the same realisation as your wife, “Did you kill the girls?” Alexia shrugs playfully, “They were just too loud.” You giggle at her comment before wincing again. 
Alexia softly rubbed your stomach as she pulled you closer. Back when you were pregnant with Isabella, Alexia was an absolute mess. She panicked over every little thing that involved you and her daughter. This Alexia was very aware of everything that was happening without even asking, something you were eternally grateful for. “Vale mi amor. Standing up might do you some good and we can make the girls breakfast while we are ahead.” She offers softly as she slowly begins to get up not before she places a gentle kiss to your belly, a routine at this stage.
You gratefully took her hand as she helped you to sit up and then eventually stand. You rewarded her with a kiss that she happily reciprocated before quietly sneaking out of your room. Once Alexia has you safely downstairs, she runs back up to check on her daughters. Isabella’s room was closest as she peaks her head in, her room is decorated in posters of her favourite footballers. Alexia smiles softly as she finds her eldest dead to the world, with the softest of kisses to her temple she is out of the room without any disturbance.
Emilia was the heaviest sleeper out of all her siblings, Alexia often joking that she could sleep through a whole football game and not even stir. Alexia didn’t even bother creeping in knowing that Emilia wasn’t going to wake up from the noise. Emilia’s messy blonde hair was sprawled out against her pillow as she clutched on to her stuffy. Jana had gifted her the teddy when she born, and Emilia latched on to it much like Valentina and her rabbit. 
Mr biggy was named when Emilia was old enough to speak and it was decided by her and Mateo her best friend. Alexia repositioned Mr Biggy until he was tucked firmly under the blonde’s arm. Alexia pressed a kiss to her cheek before leaving to check on Val.
Contrary to her older sister Val was like Alexia and slept lightly. Alexia wasn’t surprised as the four-year-old sat up at the sound of her door being opened. “Mami?” Her little voice rasped out as Alexia stepped further into the room. Val raised her arms as her Mami came closer. Alexia sat at the edge of her bed as Val crawled into her awaiting arms. 
“Buenos días mi princesita.” Ale whispered as Val buried her face into her neck to hide from the light coming from the crack in her door. Alexia felt her mumble something against her neck as she gently pulled back. Val rubbed her eyes softly as she adjusted to being awake. Her little hands rested on Alexia’s shoulders as she looked up at her with her big hazel eyes, “M’tired.” Alexia giggled softly as a grumpy face took over her daughter. “Go back to sleep mi vida.” Val didn’t fight as her Mami guided her to lie back down.
Val’s eyes fluttered shut as she drowsily held on to her mother’s hand. Alexia tucked her in as she ducked down to press a kiss against her forehead. Satisfied that all her girls were safe she made her way downstairs, smiling as she heard you humming away. You were mixing the pancake batter as a large hand covered your own, with a kiss to your neck you knew she wanted to take over. You hauled yourself up on to the counter with surprisingly little struggle that even your wife looked impressed. 
“They’re still a sleep?” You asked as you noticed she didn’t have a little army behind her. “Sí, they had a late night.” Alexia reminded you as you stole a bit of the Nutella she pulled out. In hindsight you probably shouldn’t have let them stay up to watch one more episode, but they pulled out their puppy dog eyes, and you and Alexia were weak. “We need to be stricter.” You laugh as Alexia hums noncommittedly, “But mi amor, you know I’m weak when it comes to their puppy eyes.”
You rub her shoulder sympathetically as she moves to stand between your legs, “They got that from you.” You complain as she stares at you with the same shining eyes as the ones last night. “It’s a Putellas superpower.” You nod your head as she smiles and leans in, connecting your lips as she sighs at the lack of interruptions. As always, her hands fall to your waist and yours wrap around her neck, affectively deepening it until you here footsteps. “Good morning!” You hide your laugh in your wife’s neck at Emilia’s entrance. She slides across the floor in her socks as she joins the family hug, “Are you making pancakes?” Her blue eyes light up as she sees the batter and the Nutella. 
Alexia wrestles Emilia away from the jar as Emilia tries to feed her Nutella addiction. You watch fondly as your two blonde’s bicker playfully, “Mami, just one spoon por favor!” Alexia holds the spoon up out of reach, “I’ve been good!” She whines as she tries to climb up the former athlete’s body, “Emilia, Te daré un poco si bajas.” Emilia immediately complies as she holds her hands out expectantly. Alexia just sends her a smug smile before moving the jar of Nutella away from Emilia. The 8-year-old’s jaw dropped as she watched her mother laugh teasingly. She sends her a glare before running over to you to complain. She struggles for five minutes as she tries to get up on to the counter before Alexia takes pity and moves to help her up. Not knowing that was exactly what she wanted she quickly turned in her arms and squirmed her way onto Alexia’s back and eventually her shoulders.
Alexia was so blindsided by what just happened and before she knew it Emilia had a mouthful of chocolate and a big smile plastered on her face. “Por favor, ayúdenme.” Alexia sighs as she turns to you, “Emilia get down and give your mami back her Nutella.” Emilia didn’t care what happened to the jar now that she had gotten some and smugly returned it to her mami. You tried to hide your smile so you could reprimand your daughter, but Alexia still looked a bit dazed, and Valentina had stumbled down sometime between the wrestling.
Alexia sighed in relief as she picked up the four-year-old, “You would never eat my Nutella would you Val.” It was whispered but just like her sister, her hazel eyes lit up. Alexia’s eyes widened as the girl tried to wiggle out of her grip and reach the jar herself. Emilia had pulled herself up on the counter and tucked herself into your side. She leaned down a kissed your stomach, “Bon dia bebita.” You carded your hand through her soft hair, untangling a few knots as she mumbled against your belly. 
Emilia couldn’t wait to be an even bigger sister and was fiercely protective over her unborn sister. Eventually she looked up at you and you smiled down at her, “You remembered I existed huh?” Emilia giggled as you tickled her side, “Mama, I didn’t forget Mami distracted me.” Alexia made a sound of disgruntlement but was to busy with trying to make the pancakes and keep Val away from devouring the Nutella. 
“Poor Mami always gets the blame.” Alexia pouts as she looks over at the two of you, “Sí, I’m always being ganged up on.” You coo softly as she lets you gently stroke her jaw, “My poor baby.” Emilia laughs as she launches herself into Alexia’s arms. Alexia grunts at the impact, arms winding around the little blonde as her daughter presses kiss after kiss against her face. Emilia leans her forehead against her mami’s, “Te amo Alexia.” You laugh loudly as Ale’s face falls; Emilia had found the ultimate way to tease her Mami and often used it to her advantage. Alexia hated being called anything but Mami by her little girls, always adamant that they would never ever grow up.
“Just joking Mami, I love you.” You smiled as Emilia’s laugh rang out through your house. Alexia tickled the girl unmercifully until tears were falling down her cheeks and she buried herself into Alexia’s neck, trying to catch her breath. “What is all this noise?” A new voice joined the commotion as Isabella made her appearance. “Just your sister waking up and choosing violence.” You shrugged as your eldest slumped down on one of the chairs. 
Alexia was lecturing Emilia playfully as she threatened to tickle her again and after a solemn promise to behave Emilia was set free. “Can I get some Nutella?” Isabella asked as her eyes focused on something behind Alexia. “Touchy subject this morning Is.” Alexia crossed her arms with a huff, “No, you cannot until the pancakes are ready, vale.” Isabella scoffed before mirroring her Mami’s actions, “How come they got some, that’s so unfair.” 
Emilia sneakily wiped at her chin as you beckoned her over to clean it fully. “Emilia nearly killed me and Val…” Alexia turned to look at her unsupervised daughter and nearly shrieked as Val shovelled another handful of Nutella into her mouth. “Ay dios mio! Basta, Valentina Elisabeth Putellas, drop it.” Val just smiled up innocently at her mother as she licks at her hand. Alexia sighs tiredly as she picks up the half empty jar and places it onto the highest shelf, “Estas chicas me van a matar.”
Taking pity on your wife you gently reprimand your youngest as she licked at her lips. Alexia finally cooks the pancakes as you sort out the state your daughter is in with chocolate basically everywhere. You force Isabella to grab plates and try to settle Emilia and Valentina into their seats, so they don’t cause any trouble. Isabella decided to help her Mami plate the breakfast up, earning her a grateful kiss and a comment about ‘someone finally being on her side.’ Once all your kids were settled and eating their breakfast with Nutella you made two cups of coffee and handed one to Alexia. A strong arm wrapped around your waist as you watched your kids playfully bicker with each other. “Menaces.” Alexia mutters but anyone with eyes could see the pure adoration she harboured for her girls. 
You settle onto one of the stools by the island, Alexia hot on your tail as she passed Isabella some sugar. You felt a sharp kick to your stomach and your hand fell to your bump; you intertwined your hand with Alexia’s before placing it where your daughter kicked. You impossibly fell more in love with the woman in front of you as she laughed brightly, “She wants to join the fun early, don’t you mi preciosa.” Alexia was at eye level with you as she kissed your nose, “I love you and our family more than anything en el mundo.” 
You melt into her arms as she wraps her body around you, seeking brief comfort as she becomes overwhelmed. You catch Isabella’s eye who sends you a concerned look before you nod her over, not one to ever let her eldest sister do something without her Emilia followed and so did Val. Alexia felt arms wrap around her from behind as she turns, she’s face to face with Isabella who is balancing on the spinney stool. Emilia latches onto her waist with the softest smile while Val’s little arms wound around her legs. 
Alexia guides each of their hands to your stomach, letting them feel the little kicks. Isabella who had experienced it before clung onto to Alexia who happily reciprocated her hug, cradling her head to her chest as she watches Emilia’s pure fascination and Val’s wonderment. “Bebé princesa in Mama’s tummy.” Val asks her Mami as she gently prods at your stomach, “sí mi vida.” Emilia smiled as she took Val’s hand and held it up to your stomach, Val giggled as she felt the pressure against your skin, “That’s our little sister Vally.” Emilia coos as she holds her little sister close to her. You sent Alexia a playful glare, “We don’t know if it’s a girl yet.” You were met with identical knowing looks by all four girls. You already knew what was coming as you locked eyes with your wife. Just on time all girls chorused, “She’s a Putellas.” 
453 notes · View notes
sturncakez · 1 month
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𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞 ෆ
contains: bsf!chris, plot, smut, oral (fem receiving), n fingering.
reader discretion is advised.
christopher owen sturniolo. your bestfriend, but also the love of your life.
you’ve known him and his brothers matt, nick, and justin ever since you were little.
your father and jimmy have been extremely close since they grew up with each other, and of course passing the tradition along, they wanted their children to do the same. despite you being an only child.
you loved all of the boys equally, of course. but you seemed to gravitate towards chris. growing up you couldn’t tell why, but as you got older it seemed to be more obvious. i mean, look at the boy. he’s perfection.
there were so many reasons why you used this word to describe him. but you couldn’t even wrap your finger around just one.
was it the way his beautiful blue eyes shined in the summertime? or was it the way he was so calm and caring, only when it came down to you? perhaps it was the way you guys treated each other, almost like you guys were soulmates, but with no real feelings attached.
you can go on and on about him. his soft and dark locks that seemed to shine with no effort, his listening skills, eye contact that could and always easily melted your heart away, the way it felt like you guys could talk for ages for hours, or even days. in your eyes he had zero flaws, and as you got older, you realized you were in love with your bestfriend.
ྀིྀི
you’re seventeen now. junior in highschool. you peaked quite early to say the least. you’ve had confidence ever since you were young, but as the years went by it’s gotten better and better.
what type of person would chris be to not notice that? he was your “bestfriend” of course.
you had your own sense of taste and style, and your personality wasn’t like the rest. the last thing you would want to do was fit in with any girl at somerville.
little did you know that this is what made chris fall inlove with you. but you being oblivious, you payed no mind to that. thinking that there was no way in hell that your best friend of 15 years would ever feel the same.
one thing you really liked about yourself was your music taste. you had at least 6 favorite artists, but the neighbourhood being your absolute fave. you listened to them all the time. getting ready, in your car, during class, whenever.
one of your favorite songs by the band was softcore. it was your comfort song growing up, and you felt like you could relate to some of the lyrics given the situation with you and chris.
‘..you’ve been my muse for a long time
you get me through every dark night..
i’m always gone, out on the go
i’m on the run and you’re home alone..’
the lyrics touched you physically when you listened to that song for the first time. it was true. chris was your muse. he did get you through every single dark night. when your parents were fighting almost every single night as a kid, or that time they were so focused on your grades instead of your mental health. you were way too young for all of that to happen to you. chris was the one that got you through all that. no one else. it’s almost like if you didn’t have him you would break.
another reason why you felt so touched by those lyrics is because you were almost always out of the house.
it was an escape from reality for you. whether it was walks in the park, going to parties, or sneaking out. chris on the other hand, was the exact opposite.
ྀིྀི
it was friday, but today was different. you weren’t in the mood for anything today. every few months your body gave out from all of the constant going out you would do. you decided maybe tonight was the night you would be an average teen girl and just stay home and watch movies. you were pretty tired anyway.
you decided to just binge watch 2000’s movies and fall asleep watching baylen levine. those plans seemed to be interrupted though, as you heard a ‘ding’ noise coming from your phone.
confused, because your phone always seemed to be on do not disturb, you checked to see who it was. forgetting that there was only one person that you allowed yourself to get notifications from.
it was chris.
chris: Hey
Was just wondering if you wanted to come over, nick n matt are gone for a bit and i’m pretty bored 😭
If not it’s fine tho
your heart began to pound in your chest as you stayed staring at the message. realizing you had your read receipts on you immediately jumped back into reality and began typing away a reply.
should you say yes? or should you say no? you told yourself you wouldn’t let your crush change anything between you guys but something felt different today..
a feeling lurking inside of you telling you that you couldn’t hold it back.
you started to type away.
you: ofc i’d loved to come over
just give me like 10 mins to get ready
chris: Alr np, just text me when you’re otw
you received a sick feeling in your stomach getting that last text. nonetheless, you got up out of your bed and began getting ready.
you threw on a cropped white tee and comfy sweatpants. it didn’t really matter what you wore around chris, and you didn’t think much of what he thought either. because of this you decided to not throw on a bra thinking it wouldn’t matter, but oh were you wrong.
after throwing on your outift and popping your gold hoops and remaining jewelry in, you put your hair in a low half up, got your belongings, and headed out while texting him you were on the way.
it wasn’t that far of a drive to chris’s, his house only being a few blocks away. you parked in the driveway and contemplated going in.
ྀིྀི
finally, you knocked. letting him know of your arrival.
you could hear his footsteps on the other end of the door, and the clicks and clacks of him unlocking it.
“heyyy! i missed you kid!” he exclaimed joyfully, pulling you into an embrace.
“i missed you too, chris! how have you been?” you replied back, feeling as safe as a baby in their mothers arms with him.
“bored outta my mind honestly man. nick and matt have been out for hours, and fortnite was started to get boring believe it or not.” chris said back as he pulled you in, shutting and locking the door behind you.
“surprised to hear that coming from you chris. so was hanging with best friend of fifteen years a last resort or what?” you said in a playful tone while taking off your shoes.
“kinda didn’t wanna bother you ‘cause i thought you had better things to do” chris replied.
you chuckled and looked up at him. “okay so what now?”
chris sighs. “movie?” he says with a cheesy smile on his face.
“gosh you know me so well” you respond back to him.
“kid i’ve known you since we were 2, ‘course i do.”
silence lingers in the air for a while as you both just stare at each other. a smile starts to creep up chris’s face as he full on lunges towards you and picks up right off of the ground as if you weighed nothing. you squeal “CHRIS WHAT THE FUCK PUT ME DOWN!” as he begins running up the stairs to his bedroom and throwing you down onto his bed. this was one of his many ways to mess with you. “calm down kid i wasn’t gonna throw you that hard.” he replies and starts to laugh his ass off as if it was the funniest thing in the world.
you just start to look at him as he laughs, loving the way his smile is, and adoring the sound of his laugh — which most may call obnoxious.
“you’re insane i hope you know that.” you reply.
after he calms down from his laughing fit that seemed to last ages, a moment of silence begins to brew again. lasting longer than the first time. this time was different though. the eye contact didn’t seem like ‘friendly’ eye contact, but at the same time you never really had that eye contact with each other in the first place.
you start to look down at his lips. and right now, in this moment, they looked as delectable as ever. something about them. the rosy pink color they had, the same one displayed on his cheeks. the way they were plump and looked kissable. so kissable.
a feeling started to brew in your stomach. butterflies.
you could tell chris felt the same way. he looked down at your lips, admiring the brown and pink colors. before you could even get a breath out, his lips collided with yours. the kiss was perfect, more than that. they fit so well together, like a mold. he held your the side of your face as you began to straddle on-top of his lap.
but suddenly, you stopped. “wait chris..i’m not sure if..we should be doing this.” you said as you catched your breath, realizing what had just taken place seconds ago.
“baby it’s fine, i’ve been wanting this, wanting you, for as long as i could remember. you’re fine, i promise.” chris replies.
something about the way he said that..his words. its like you could feel them in your heart. you replied a shy “okay” and smiled as you started to kiss him again. this time the kissed last longer, and began to get steamier and steamier.
chris quickly dominated the kiss, interlocking his tongue with yours. it was messy but you loved it. and it definitely made you wet. chris on the other hand was going insane. more blood instantly began flowing to his dick, making his already erect cock even harder. struggling to hide it, he knew he had to do something. he broke the kiss, making you whine in disappointment.
you got used to the feeling of his pillow soft lips. “i know baby, i know.” chris said as he instantly understood how you were feeling. he began to kiss the side of your lip, then your jawline, moving down to your neck. he started to kiss and suck the soft skin and went harsher and harsher as he went lower and lower.
“can i take this off baby?” he said, motioning to your shirt. “mhm.” you replied, making him frustrated. “i need your words mama.” “yes chris, you can take this off!” you said chuckling a bit. chris’s eyes began to wander and they immediately went to your nipples. them being hard as it was cold in his room. “such a fucking slut not wearing a bra around your bestfriend hm?”
as if you weren’t wet enough, his words immediately had your panties even more soaked. chris dipped his head down as he started to swirl his tongue around your nipples and suck. he began to leave dark purple marks all over your skin, letting you know you were his. a thought began to linger in your mind. were you too young for this? i mean, you guys were only seventeen.
but all thoughts were swept away as chris added stimulation to your clit, using one hand and using the other to massage your right breast. you’ve had only two sexual experiences in your life so far, the first one being a girl and the second a guy, neither being able to satisfy you right. but chris, chris was different. “take your pants off for me ma, panties too.” you immediately obeyed his directions and looked back up at him eager to see what was next “so perfect for me baby, all just for me.” your heart melted.
“lay down f’ me.” you laid down on the bed as you patiently waited for his next move. chris began to take his shirt off and started to kiss all over your body again. starting from your neck down to your stomach, and making the kisses slow and sensual, making sure you were blessed with the right amount of satisfaction. you began to let out whines and moans signaling you wanted more than that, the feeling already being beyond immaculate. chris started to kiss lower and lower and pried open your legs.
he stared for what felt like hours, but was probably only seconds. “oh my fucking gosh ma, you’ve been hiding all this from me?” chris said as he began to lick and suck on your thighs, devouring all the remnants of your arousal. you began to whine even more. that’s when chris ducked his head even lower and began to lick at your entrance. “mmmmm” he groaned at the taste, tasting sweet and saltiness.
he began to flatten his tongue against your clit, making you moan as loud as ever. before you could even get a word out he began to fuck you with his tongue. “h-holy fuck chris!” he started to slurp and suck repeated on your weeping pussy. you looked down at him seeing a mess of your arousal and his spit forming on his face. “yes yes yes! oh myyy, oh my fuck baby” you moaned loudly. “hmmm you like that ma?” chris groaned into your pussy, the vibrations immediately going straight to your core, making you wrap your thighs around his head.
chris instantly put his head up and stared into you. “keep your hips down or i’ll stop. understand?” chris said demandingly. you’ve never seen that side of him, but oh did it turn you on even more. “ ‘m sorry baby just please, please keep going..” your wish was his command as he immediately went back to eating you like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. like a starved lion. the dirtiest slurping, slushing, and gushing sounds could be heard from chris’s room. “ohhh my godddd” you moaned, feeling your orgasm start to build up. chris started to suck faster and faster, it was inhumane at this point. he groaned repeatedly knowing it would go straight to your core. “fuck chris i can’t- i can’t take it!” as soon as the words left your mouth and whipped out his fingers, stuck his head up and said “spit.” in the most devilish tone.
you spat into his hand. “good fucking girl.” chris said, as he stuck two of his fingers into your hole that was practically begging to be fucked with his fingers. maybe even his cock. his began to thrust into you slowly letting you get used to the pain, and then started to go faster, as if there was no tomorrow. you squealed and moaned out of intense pleasure not knowing how much longer you could take it for.
not even being able to think straight, chris added a third finger. he stared at your convulsing body and groaned “take it. take my fucking fingers in that tight fucking pussy of yours like the whore you are.” and that was it. those were the last words you heard before you saw flashing of your squirt exiting your body and your vision going white.
chris enjoyed seeing this, knowing that the pleasure he gave you was so intense that you couldn’t even signify him of when you were about to cum. letting you ride out your high, he slide out his fingers and sucked them, moaning a bit. you looked up at him with the most fucked out look in your eyes. “that was. the hottest. thing. i’ve ever seen.”
“i don’t know how i’m still alive after that. that was amazing chris.” you replied in awe. “you’re amazing.” chris said as he began to lean in and kiss you. “you like the way you taste huh?”
you moaned into the kiss signifying your answer. he broke the kiss saying “you did such a good job for me baby. so so good.” you looked at him and smiled. letting out a small “thank you.” “so..where does that leave us now?” chris says.
he didn’t get to finish yet.
- rosa speaks
hi guys this is my very first fic anddd smut. it is loosely based off of the song ‘softcore’ by my favorite artists of all time the neighbourhood!! this is for @annamcdonalds67 writing comp so when i saw this song up there i was so fucking happy. pls lmk what u think of this n if u want a pt. 2 i’ll happily make one.
- also sorry to all the ppl i tagged that don’t like 2 be tagged if they aren’t notified beforehand, i finished this way later than i was supposed to and i was supposed to dm ppl n ask if they wanted to be tagged but i don’t have time. sorry again but i hope u guys like it! ALSOOO COMMENT A PINK HEART IF U WANNA STAY ON MY TAGLIST FOR THE FUTURE 🩷🩷🩷
@musegyra @recklesssturniolo @stunza @sturnphilia @sturnsdoll @pinksturniolo @suyqa @thesturniolos @hoesformatt @mattscoquette @sturnrockwell @sturn777 @slut4chriss @thenickgirl @m9ttsverse @medilovesmatt @stars4chratt @slutz4sturniolos @mattbf
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ohimsummer · 6 months
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✎ . . .❝ KEEP IT ON, ANGEL…❞
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— satosugu x fem! reader, shoko might be a little into you, pet names (princess, angel) bratty reader, slightly suggestive near the end, outfit is inspired by something like this
summary; you're all getting ready to go out, but both your boyfriends' clothes make a better outfit than your own
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Shoko steadily eyes your silhouette behind the partition, watches as you eventually step out in your third outfit of the night. A pout is still etched onto your glossed lips, and she giggles at the exasperated stomp of your bare foot against the floor. Heaving out a sigh, you look over your figure in the nearby floor-to-ceiling mirror. This fit looks nice, cute even…but it's just not good enough. Your last handfuls of attire have all been missing something, a certain razzle-dazzle that left them lackluster and needing a little something more.
“Well?”, Shoko asks, though the answer is evident from your adorable frown and stiff pose. “This one a winner?”
You hum in response, throwing your hands on your hips and lolling your head to the side in a desperate attempt to make the outfit work. Maybe a different angle will make it look better is your logic. Alas, it has the same problem as your previous attempts.
You groan. “I don’t like it.”
“Looks cute, though.” You’re too busy drowning out the bickering from the bathroom and wondering where this outfit went wrong to notice how her eyes trace over your body.
What you do notice, however, is Suguru’s shirt laying idly on the bed.
It’s a neatly ironed black tee decorated with warm-coloured graphics on the front of some band Suguru liked to listen to. Shoko follows your gaze to the shirt, but remains quiet. She decides to see where you might go with this.
You glance towards the bathroom. In the mirror, you catch a sneak peak of Suguru’s irritated expression as he fails to tune out Satoru’s nonsensical rambling. Both are too busy sabotaging eachother to spot you prancing over to the bed where their clothes are laid out. Next to Suguru’s shirt is Gojo’s black, leather jacket, lustrous and extremely expensive. The gears are starting to turn in your head. Shoko, intrigued, watches you strip down at record speed. The faster you can get their clothes on, the easier it’ll be for you to keep them. You slide Suguru’s oversized shirt over your body, fabric still a little warm even though it's been a minute since he ironed it. The shirt hangs loosely around your waist; you’ll fix that in a second. Satoru’s jacket is cool and heavy on your skin, but it looks incredible with the shirt.
“Need a hand?” Your attention draws to the couch, where Shoko balances a few safety pins between her fingers.
It takes a couple minutes to pin the shirt how you like, and you both listen for the end of the boys' bickering to make sure they don't catch the two little partners in crime. In the end, the final result looks amazing. Geto's tee now fits you like a glove, and the thigh high stiletto boots really bring the whole thing together. All that’s left is a matching handbag and accessories, so off you disappear into the closet. You’re so engrossed in the hunt for that one name-brand handbag from Satoru, that the pair of heavy footsteps approaching you from behind fall on deaf ears.
“Hey.” Suguru says to you, appearing over your now frozen form kneeled on the carpet. “My shirt. Where is it?”
Satoru chimes in from his spot leant against the doorframe. “And hand over my jacket, would ya, princess?”
You cross your arms underneath your chest, plumping your tits up just enough to get them to stare, and jut your lips out in a pout as you glare up at them both. “But I’m wearing them.”
“...And who authorized that idea?”, Geto asks in that ever-so-tolerant tone of his.
“They looked abandoned to me," You quip back. “And the shirt’s wrinkled now, anyway." You turn your attention back to the shelf of handbags. "It needs re-ironing, so might as well just find somethin' else.”
Satoru interrupts before Suguru can argue any further. “Okay. And my jacket?”
“Mine now.” You reply in a sing-songy tease, topped off with the same shit-eating grin Satoru's always giving everyone else, and blink your lashes up at them. “Besides, I look great as fuck! You two aren’t gonna make me take it off now when I look so-," You tuck a hand under your chin and breathe out," ravishing, are you?”
Gojo chuckles and starts to fire back, “We’re gonna end up taking it off you later anyw-“
“Fine.” Suguru quickly cuts him off. “Fine. Keep it on, angel.”
Even a deaf person could hear the absolutely treacherous tone laced beneath the pet name. But if there’s one thing you and Satoru are good at, it is waning a poor Suguru Geto’s patience.
“Thank you, Suguru, so kind, so generous.” You purr his name and give Geto those puppy dog eyes that make him wanna choke you on his fingers. And you’re sure he will, later when Shoko has long gone home.
“Hmph.” Gojo pouts over Geto’s shoulder. “No wonder she’s so spoiled when you give her everything she wants.”
And just like that, you’re coming for Gojo as well, pouting and whining at him, “You gonna take your jacket back from me, Satoru?”
Geto turns to look at him and, underneath two pairs of eyes, suddenly the great Satoru Gojo finds the closet wall extremely interesting. He really wanted to wear that jacket out to the festival tonight, but when you whine his name like that…
His thoughts are interrupted as Suguru gives a huff and shrugs out of his grasp, turning to exit the closet. “No wonder she’s so spoiled.”
“Shut up, Suguru.” You can hear Geto and Shoko laughing at him in the next room. And, now that their attention has moved elsewhere, you can focus on finding that pesky, elusive handbag.
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hungharrington · 9 months
Note
Steve thought! I’ve thinking about steve lazily fucking you in spooning position 😇
yeah this has crossed my mind maybe several thousand times so hope u wanted some sweet sweet LOVIN anon cos that’s what i’ve GOT for u !! MDNI this entire blog is 18+, gn!reader, ooey-gooey loving, that’s all enjoy <3 this one goes out to @boyfriendstevie
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Some mornings with Steve are just pure warmth. Sleepy cuddles, neither of you that awake, but still reaching out to one other. Love intertwines both of you easily, warming you as much as the pillowy duvet and when you kiss his skin, it’s with your eyes closed. You could find him in the dark.
Other mornings, there’s this sweet alluring lust that intermingles with the love. You love it — how you and Steve always seem to be on the same wavelength, how you both seem to know.
This morning, you know from when the first moments of consciousness trickle in. His lips scrape along the nape of your neck, pressing a soft kiss there. You can feel the shape of him up against you, his hairy chest scratching lightly at your shoulder blades, the two of you cuddled close together.
“Good mornin’.” Steve murmurs against your skin, his voice low and gravelly with sleep. You smile, eyes still closed and let yourself bask in the warmth as his hand sneaks over your waist.
“Mm, it is a good morning,” You says as you shimmy back into him, your ass pressing into his crotch purposefully. You hum, pleased when his hand on your middle tightens in response. You feel his lips against your skin quirk into a smile.
“Oh, is it that kind of morning?” He asks knowingly.
You cover his hand with your own and guide it, beginning to push the waist band of your pyjama shorts down an inch. You grin, eyes still closed as you hear his breath catch.
“I don’t know…” You tease. “Is it that kind of morning?”
Steve’s hand finishes what you started, pushing the fabric down your thighs until you’re wiggling to kick them down yourself, lost beneath the covers.
You finally peek your eyes open, just to close them again in a sigh when Steve soothes his hand up your thigh. He sweeps it back down and this time when he drags it up, his fingers slide eagerly closer to your inner thigh.
“Do you need…”
“Mmhm,” You’re shaking your head before he’s even finished his question. You twist to peer over your shoulder, relishing in the sight of his mussed hair and chocolate eyes. “Was already dreamin’ bout it, Stevie.”
It’s worth craning your neck to see the arousal flutter over his face as Steve groans, tucking his head against your neck. Head flopping back against the pillow, you can feel him shuffle behind you, his heat leaving you for a brief moment, to shed his sweatpants— and when it returns, your stomach blazes hotly at the skin-to-skin contact.
Another kiss to the back of your neck. Steve hums against your skin as his hand travels up, skimming your hip and trailing up your chest. His thumb brushes your peaking nipple and you gasp appreciatively as he pinches it, pairing his rubbing with sweet words. “Baby, my baby, so good f’me.”
You keen softly and your hips rock backwards. Steve gets the hint— another kiss on your neck, then your shoulder as he moves to touch your hip, drifting down to hold your thigh. He urges your legs apart.
The pillow crinkles as you push your face into it, capturing your sweet sigh as he eases himself into you, slow and gentle. It burns deliciously, his hard and achingly hot cock stretching you out just the way you like it. A dozen more kisses melt along your shoulders, like little lightning bolts, as he pushes in further, his breathing a little heavier. He stills to give you a moment.
You breathe in, feeling your tummy boil up with desire before eagerness takes over and you push back against him. Steve moans softly, his breath stuttering as he bottoms out inside you. You moan, clenching around him.
His hand slides off your thigh to wrap back around your middle, properly spooning you as he cuddles in closer. Your hand moves to clutch his, lust spiking as he starts to move, deep, lazy thrusts that force sweet little noises out your mouth that mix with Steve’s low moans.
“Fuck,” Steve curses breathily. He’s moving slow, rocking in and out, but it’s enough to have both of you unravelling into each other. Slick, wet sounds fill the bedroom. His kisses get a little sloppier, messy marks of love all up your neck. He squeezes your tummy. “Fuck, honey, y’feel so good, baby.”
You moan, your hips rolling back with a mind of their own, meeting him in the middle. It’s a perfect haze of lust and warmth and love and you shiver in his arms, already feeling the coil in the pit of your belly. It won’t take much for either of you this morning, you can tell.
“You feel so good,” You whisper back, words tainted with a moan. “You, fuck, Steve— ngh, you’re so deep, fucking me so good,”
Something close to a growl scrapes out Steve’s throat and he grapples you closer, his thrusts speeding up a fraction —but still deep and lazy, enough to make you want to squirm beneath him. You keen back into him, back arching to get the angle just right and Steve’s hand slithers out from under yours, reaching up to toy with your nipples again. You gasp loudly and Steve whines a little at your obvious arousal.
“Can I—” He starts, voice choppy from his pants. His cock is achingly hard inside you and when you clench down on him, you adore the twitch and resounding whimper it draws out of him. “Can you kiss me?”
Your heart burns for him and you don’t waste a single second to twist around, capturing his hungry lips with your own. Steve groans into the kiss, his fingers flexing on your skin. Heat flushes your body as the kiss breaks and his forehead presses to your own, his hazel eyes gazing into yours as he fucks into you. You moan brokenly, pleasure screwing the coil in your tummy tighter. It feels good, so fucking good, Steve always makes you feel fucking good.
“Steve,” you whine.
“Yeah,” He rasps back, voice all whimpery now. “Yeah, I know, baby. Me too— shit, me too.”
You want to stay like this, spread open on his cock while he holds you. While he takes and gives, kisses and moans and wraps the both of you in the warmth of the morning. You pant into his mouth and lean forward to kiss him again.
Steve hums and this time, when the kiss breaks, he nudges your head back forwards— his hips still for a moment as he rolls you both forward onto the mattress so you’re facedown.
“S’okay?” He checks, even though you can feel him still pulsing inside you. You nod, breathe jagged and try to raise your hips to signal him further. Steve needs no more invitation.
He settles down on you, his chest pressed against your back once against but this time when his thrusts start up again, you’re pushed downwards as he fucks you into the mattress. His arms bracket your body and one shifts, scooping around your torso to lift your hips higher. You cry out, the angle perfect as he finally picks up the pace, drilling into you, slick gathering at your thighs.
“Steve, ah! Steve, fuck, feels so..” Your words dribble off, muffled by the pillow as you bury your face in it. Heat flashes through you, fuelled by Steve’s whiny moans, all his fucked out rambles.
“F-Fucking love it when you moan my name,” He praises, barely speak coherently through his whispering panting. “So fucking good f’me, taking— ngh- shit, fuck, taking me so well.”
You wail, burning hot want crawling up your stomach so suddenly that you don’t even get a moment of warning before the heat explodes and your orgasm breaks— you cry out his name and clench down, hard, cumming on his cock.
Steve tucks his face in your shoulder and whimpers at the feeling, fucking the snugness fast and hard. It takes only a couple more thrusts til he feels himself fall apart with a strangled moan, burying his cock deep inside you. He milks it, fucking you gently both through the waves of pleasure, until tiredness saps his energy. He slumps, resting atop you for just a moment. You’ve never felt more safe, squished beneath him and filled completely.
He kisses behind your ear, then nuzzles it with his nose. Faintly, you think about how no one has ever kissed you there ever before — just Steve and the sun.
“I love you.” He says, nearly a whisper. Words just for you.
There’s not an ounce of a lie in your words when you cheekily say, voice still out of breath, “Hm, I think I love you more.”
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