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lymtw · 3 months

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Lazy days with Toji where you're sitting between his legs, just basking in his presence. You're laid back against his chest, scrolling through your socials, while he attempts to focus on whatever is playing on the TV screen. His arms are wrapped around your waist, securely, and his chin rests on your shoulder as he watches the movie you put on.

It's practically background noise for you because you're not paying attention, but when you're the one not focused, Toji takes the hit for it too because you constantly interrupt him by showing him videos of food with the promise of making it for him someday. You're also feeding him your broken humor in the form of memes, and though he doesn't find the actual images you show him funny, he cracks up at the way you laugh so hard that you squirm uncontrollably against him in your fit of laughter. He rolls his eyes with a sly smirk on his face at your giggles in the aftermath of your laughter, but still, he can't help but wonder how he got you.

You settle against him again, allowing him to keep watching the movie in peace, only now he sees no point in it. He's lost on the plot, and it's not as interesting without you going 'You like tomatoes, right? Or... at least tomato sauce, right?' or something food related every three minutes. His hands are moving now, his arms still around your lower stomach. You pay no mind to it because he's probably doing it mindlessly.

You're no stranger to him placing his hands on you while completing other tasks. You see his nonchalant front as he makes his way towards you but as soon as he rounds the corner, you can feel the wolfish grin radiating as he comes up behind you. He's there for a mug, but he'll do extra to show you that he's there behind you. He'll grab your hips and pull you back until your ass is against his crotch. Sometimes you resist the pull to mess with him, but he always manages to pull your body into his, a bite to your shoulder following as "punishment" for rejecting him.

For the strangest reason, his advances shook you this time. One hand felt up your bare outter thigh, following the expanse of it until he couldn't reach anymore. Then he went to the underside of it, squeezing the flesh a couple times. Your heart was pounding, but you stayed focused on your phone, or attempted to once his other hand started teasing the knot of the bow tied above your waistband.

He slowly unraveled the knot, allowing the elastic band of your shorts to loosen and give his hand more space. You think he's watching the movie, but really, he's watching you react through his peripheral vision. His hand travels further down your shorts, his middle finger ghosting your slit through your underwear. The touch is barely there, but it has your stomach doing cartwheels. He sighs, his fingers going back up to the lace trimming of your underwear. The sound just barely reached your ears, but it had a lasting effect as he continued to let his hands roam your lower body. He puts his fingers through the left leg hole of your underwear, the digits snapping the elastic against your hip.

You found another video to show him, but you saved it instead to show him later. You don't know exactly what is running through his mind, but it's completely welcome if it involves him continuing to touch you this way.

His fingers drag back down to your slit, this time applying more pressure. You twitch against him, earning that sly grin that appears when he knows he's working you up. You try to ground yourself and keep it together a little longer by putting your leg up, only for Toji to push it back down onto the couch.

"What's wrong, mama?" He mumbles into your shoulder. "Getting real fidgety outta nowhere."

"I'm okay," you assure, turning to give him a kind smile.

He takes it up a notch, allowing his hand to go under your sweater. He uses the privilege he has on your body so adeptly that even his hand placements are enough to force heat to run through you. The feeling of his hand grazing your skin fuels the fire that is kindled within you. He lets his blunt nails drag along the left side of your waist, slowly merging toward your midriff and upwards, before reaching the bottom of your bra. It's no restriction to him, he can just go under it.

He hums, feeling the blood rush down to his dick at the feeling of your warm breast in his hand. It only takes one brush of his finger to make your nipple quickly harden, a feeling that makes you feel like you're buzzing with electricity.

Toji is so well versed in your anatomy, it kind of embarrasses you sometimes that he doesn't have to try so hard to soften you up. He did so well at memorizing your body that he doesn't really have to look anymore to know that his touch is affecting you. That is not to be mistaken for him not wanting to watch his effects take a toll on you, because he would gladly watch you submissively fall apart for hours.

Your stomach tenses as he combines both forms of stimulation, a muffled moan coming from you as fall back on Toji's chest, your sleeve over your mouth.

He laughs at the way your eyes flutter shut, your brows pinching when he doesn't let up even after you waved your white flag. You know better than to think he'd let you walk away without making you cum on his fingers at least once.

"Why are you muting yourself, ma?" He breathes against your ear. "Don't you know it gets me hard when you whine and moan for me?"

You sigh, your phone shaking in your grip. "O-Okay, Toji. Won't do it again," you say in the most delicate tone. You turn your phone screen off and give your undivided attention to Toji and his torturous touch.

"Right. You wanna cum, don't you?"

"Mhm," you mumble, setting your hands down on his thighs.

"Oh, you can do better than that. Tell me you want to cum." His lips find the side of your neck, nudging the material of your sweater aside so that he can ghost the slope that leads to your shoulder. The urge to bite the exposed skin is almost unbearable.

Your hips roll slightly against his crotch, earning a slight groan from him. His cock is rock hard, but he's gonna get you off first since he was the one who got you all riled up in the first place. "Please make me cum, Toji. Please? Pretty please?"

Your words go straight to his dick. You've always been so well mannered—so good at begging for what you want. Being Toji's lover turned you even more politely submissive. Does this mean you deserve to cum quickly every time? Not in Toji's reality because he loves to see the feral look in your bleary eyes when he leaves you hanging.

He chuckles, quickening the movements of the hand teasing your drooling pussy. "Taught you how to beg real good, huh? Who knows what the bratty side of you would bring out of me."

"F-Fuck, fuck Toji," you inhale, exhaling shakily as his hands pause to switch positions.

"I could tame that side of you, too," he says in a taunting tone, as if daring you to rebel against him someday. "I'd get you in this exact position, even if you wanna be a stuck up little princess." His right hand snakes up your sweater, repeating the same process as before of exploring your skin before getting to your breast.

"Mm-mm, no," you whine, squirming in his hold. "'M only good for you, T-Toji."

"Yeah? I'll hold you accountable if it turns out otherwise," he murmurs into your shoulder, his voice like drizzling honey in contrast to the threat. He can feel you gushing even more, his fingers collecting more slick with every up and down of his fingers. "Fuck, you considering it now?"

"N-No I wouldn't... Toji, I wouldn't." Your hands squeeze his thighs, refraining from using your nails.

"Then why'd your cunt start drooling even more when I told you what would happen?"

"Toji..." you whine, your cheeks burning up.

He chuckles, "S'all good, ma. I got you."

"T-Toji, I- Can I cum? Please, please, Toji?"

"Already? I just started, princess. Can you hold it?" He asks, slowing his strokes.

"I don't t-think so... 'm sorry, please..."

He sighs, no trace of disappointment in the sound, rather pride for turning you into a sloppy mess in such a short span of time.

"You'll have to make it up to me. Didn't last very long, you know?" He rolls your nipple between his fingers, amused by the way your body vibrates at the overwhelming stimulation.

"Mhm... yes, Toji. Whatever you want."

He can't hold back the wicked grin that forms at your thoughtless, pleading words for mercy.

"'Kay, mama. Make it worth it."

His fingers make direct contact with your pussy for the first time since he started playing with you. His thumb focused on your clit, while his middle and index finger tease your entrance. His lips go for your neck again, planting wet kisses on the warm skin. He's so overwhelming in every aspect when he makes you cum. You're entirely suffocated by him and you love it.

You don't last another five seconds before completely falling apart on Toji, crying out his name followed by a barrage of moans. Your back arched and your legs came up to assist you in squeezing the life out of Toji's hand. Had he not braced you with the one arm he had up your sweater, you would have completely slid down his body and laid there curled up in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

"Up, mama. Stay up," he instructs. His hand goes flat on your chest, pressing you against him to keep you as steady as possible as you writhe in soul crushing pleasure.

Eventually, you go limp, laying your legs flat on the couch again. Toji chuckles, sadistically, at the broken down husk that remains of you. He attempts to bring you back to life by prodding at your overstimulated cunt and you react the way he expected, pushing at his arm to stop it.

He pulls his hands out of their designated areas, wiping your cum off on his sweatpants. "Hey," he calls, poking your forehead when he notices you dozed off.

"Mm..." you hum, in response. You roll your eyes open with a lazy grin etched on your face, an expression that added pressure to the brick in Toji's pants.

"Let's go to the bed. Fucking is not gonna be comfortable here." He traces your jaw with his fingers.

"I can't walk," you mumble, exaggerating to get him to carry you.

"Oh, you poor baby," he mocks. "That won't be a lie once i'm done with you."

You use every ounce of effort to push yourself forward to try and crawl away from him, but he pulls you back by the arm and secures you in his hold again. You giggle as he wraps your legs around his waist.

"Trynna pull a fast one on me?" He chuckles. "Well, aren't you precious?" He pushes off the couch using his foot to boost his momentum, a groan leaving him as he adjusts to standing after sitting for so long.

You surrender yourself to him willingly. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, getting drunk off his scent, and watch as the light that illuminates the living room disappears out of sight when you reach the bedroom.

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mariasont · 19 days

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not sure if you’re planning to write this, but smut with spencer & bimbo!receptionist!reader would probably fix my problems 😔 i feel like spencer would be praising her nonstop, while also being condescending & i fucking live for that‼️

Undo You - S.R

a/n: i love ur mind anon 😚 i hope this lives up to what you want 🫶🏼🫶🏼✨ thank you for requesting xoxo

anyway i kinda think this is bad bc i didn’t proofread but whatever ill prob go back and edit laters!

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

summary: bimbo reader and spencer doing the nasty

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fingering, degrading? (not really), spencer being slightly condescending, p in v, unprotected sex (BE BETTER!), creampie (STOP I HATE IT TOO BUT WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO CALL IT?!?!?! TWINKIE?!?!)

wc: 1.3k

Mustering the courage to ask you out was a feat in itself but getting you into his bed was a whole other ballgame. But here you were, fingers roaming through his hair and tracing the contours of his back. You were perfect, and you were in his bed.

The wasn't the first, nor would it be the last if he had anything to do with it. It's hard to fathom his good luck--to have you, breathtaking in every sense, under him, your fingertips gently grazing his waist band as you inch towards his cock.

Your makeup was almost artfully messy, with mascara delicately pooled beneath your lashes, rendering you devastatingly tempting. You had glittering eyeshadow on, and it was getting everywhere. Spencer felt the urge to undo you--to disrupt the pristine image you presented to the world, to make you uniquely his. Selfish? Without a doubt. But that didn't diminish the idea.

Your hands, with their perfect manicure, were now wrapped around his cock, tugging and pulling as if your palms were sculpted precisely for this purpose.

You were saying something, your lips a mesmerizing motion as he grasped the sheets beside you, each fistful a concerted effort to remain control.

"What, angel?" He was trying to be patient with you.

You talked a lot in general, but in bed, it only seemed to amplify. This was not a bad thing, not in his eyes, no, it was almost too much of a good thing. Each time your mouth opened and closed with another airy comment he found himself that much closer to spilling his load all over you.

"Your face is really red," you breathed out, nostrils flaring slightly, your eyes averted, engrossed in the sight of his length enclosed between your hands.

He stifled a laugh, resisting the urge to shove his cock into that pretty mouth of yours.

"Well, you see," Spencer starts, pausing as your hand presses to the tip of his length, "when someone is excited...or aroused, blood flow increases to the f-face, causing...vasodilation. It's... it's a sympathetic nervous system response."

"Oh, like when you get all red after running?" You tilt your head in that curious way of yours, your actions uninterrupted as words flowed from you.

"Yes, exactly like that."

He grabbed your hand, pulling you off of him and pressing that same hand to the mattress below him.

"And just like my face gets red, your pupils dilate when you're excited," Spencer explains, his hand poised just above your collarbone, sketching paths on your skin, "It's due to the release of norepinephrine, which is part of your body's fight of flight response."

Your lips were parted, pressing your body into him like you couldn't help yourself, hips squirming under his.

"So, what's the verdict, sweet girl?" Spencer asks, watching your gaze met his, lips parting as he dragged a hand over your clothed heat. "What's your body telling you? Fight of flight?"

You kissed him, gasping into his mouth as he pushed a finger into you. You were drenched. "Is submit an option?"

"That's my girl," he said, feeling his cock tighten even more, as if that were possible, almost moaning at the sight of your dimple being drawn out.

You whined, arching your back against the navy-blue sheets as your hands locked around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. He could smell everything about you from here—your coconut shampoo, your vanilla perfume, your lavender lotion. He wanted to inhale it, to inhale you.

He didn't even bother with your skirt, simply pulling your panties out from under it and lining himself up with your entrance. He watched, enthralled, as your chest rose and fell, holding your breath as you braced for his cock. You were so good for him, too good for him.

One hand clasped against your hip as the other guided his length into you, hissing as you tightened around him. It was a feeling that could never get old, like he was being reborn, like the world was ending and you and him were the only two people left. He would be fine with that.

Your face twisted up in pleasure as you began to rock against him, not giving yourself that chance to adjust. You did this often and it caused him to push down on your hips, stopping your movements. He could come if you kept doing that. He would.

"Patience," he hissed, but you were never one that was good with following orders.

You moved again, tits bouncing up and down your chest as you did. He stifled a groan, meeting your movements with thrusts of his own.

He imagined this is what Buddhists meant when they referred to finding the garden of Nirvana. This was it for him. The ultimate state of liberation and profound peace.

You were a blubbering mess, fingertips clawing down his back, surely to leave marks, but he couldn’t care less.

“Look at you,” he cooed, rutting his cock in and out of you. “You’re awfully quiet. Got something on your mind, baby?”

“N-No,” you stammered, legs wrapping around his waist as your arms went around his neck, clinging to him like a koala, your moans now pressed up against his ear.

“I figured as much.”

Your tits were flush against his chest, his breath stalling as he reached in the limited space between you, thumb circling your clit. Your whines intensified, just as his thrusts did.

“Spencer, please, yes, oh fuck—,” you paused, a gasp releasing from your lips as he felt you unravel on his cock, your wet cunt clenching around him in a way that made his legs shake.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that.” His movements were more desperate now, sloppily slamming into you without mercy. “You’re so fucking good, baby.”

He barely recognized your lips against his ear. “Will you come inside me please?”

That was all it took, those simple words, brushing against his skin and rushing all the way down to his cock. His thrusts slowing as he pumped himself inside you, the sound completely obscene, but it just made him enjoy it that much more.

You were limp against the bed, and Spencer was quick to follow, face finding the crook of his neck as he tried his best not to crush you with his weight.

He could feel your pulse against his lips, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses into your honey induced skin as he waited for you to return back to planet Earth.

He was well aware of the drill, pressing one last kiss to your sweaty forehead before prying himself out of your hands and making a beeline for the bathroom. He grabbed a towel and a glass of water before coming back to the bed, nearly fainting at your tired smile shining at him, at him.

“Hi, gorgeous.”

“I really love when you call me that,” you said, almost dreamily as you pushed your tousled hair into the pillow.

He laughed, placing the water on the table and moving your legs so he was between them.

“Gorgeous,” he repeated as he dabbed the towel to your sex, cleaning the mess he made on you. “Do I not call you that enough? Because I can certainly make it a more regular occurrence.”

“Well, I mean, it couldn’t hurt,” you said, giggling as you flinched away from the pressure on your clit.

He pushed your leg down, preventing you from squirming. “Let me clean you up.”

You pouted, and he had the sudden urge to bite your bottom lip. You gave him a salute, giggling before you could even get the words out. “Aye, aye captain.”

He tossed the towel to the side, climbing up your legs as he kissed you, soft and slow, murmuring into your lips, “come here, smart ass.”

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x bimbo!reader #spencer reid x bimbo reader #spencer reid x fem reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #Reid #criminal minds smut

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sinswithpleasure · 1 month

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Unprofessional Conduct

"Oh, come on, Mr Jang..."

Sullyoon twirls her hair around her finger, a coy pout on her face. Smug superiority shines in her eyes—there is nowhere to run with the school being only so big.

You’re cursing at how good of a timing Sullyoon’s picked—it’s the track team camp during the holidays, which means that only you and the team are on campus. She’d planned to corner you, and now you’re trapped right where she wants you.

"It's not the first time you've ogled these legs. Both of us know that." The Korean girl turns to you, putting one leg in front of the other, giggling when you fail to resist looking down at the creamy skin of her thighs, down to the knee-high socks that she wears. “You don't have to be shy about it at all, Mr Jang. I'm letting you look."

You take a step back when Sullyoon takes a step down the stairs. You shouldn't, you can't—her clubmates are just around the corner in the classroom, and this is inappropr—!

"Bullshit, Mr Jang.” Sullyoon’s words slap you across the face. “You don’t even look any bit convinced with your own excuses."

—when did she have you pinned against the wall, oh sh—

"—That's right, you've been hard the entire time, Mr Jang."

You rush to muffle the moan that escapes from the gaps between your fingers when Sullyoon cups your bulge, her palm gently rubbing against the cloth of your pants, right across the sensitive underside—

"Face it, you want me." Sullyoon presses up against you, her soft breasts right against your chest as she eyes your lips, eyes half-lidded, confident smirk across her face. “You want me so bad."

"No, I—!"

“You're not subtle at all, Mr Jang. Eyes always trained on our legs, our asses, our breasts when we're training. So many of us have noticed that during track sessions, you know, that you want us so bad, hell, want me so bad. Haewon-unnie always tells me about how you perv on Jiheon-unnie in class, peering down her uniform when you walk by her desk or when she's asking questions at yours. She also tells me you've also tried that more than once with Yujin-unnie. And that you’re always trying to peek up my skirt when I’m sitting in front during class, or staring at my ass when we’re training.”

The panic across your face has Sullyoon laughing. It's an admission—you can't hide it, and the mere mention of her seniors has you getting harder. Both Yujin and Jiheon are your type—slender, petite, with long legs that go all the way to Sunday—and you could apply all of these descriptors to Sullyoon as well. You can't help but stare dumbly at your student as she levels all of her knowledge of your perverseness at you.

“Sullyoon, this is—no, I—!”

"Shh…”

It barely takes Sullyoon ten seconds to unbuckle your belt and unzip your pants. You're moaning again when she reaches beneath your boxers to fish your hard cock out, fisting the length as she presses it against your abdomen.

"Oh, you're so wet, Mr Jang. So much precum..." You whimper when your student runs a thumb over the leaking slit. Strings of it cling to her thumb and your cock when she lets go, then between her fingers as she spreads it across the pads of her index finger and thumb. "All for me, too..."

You're once again stunned into silence with her nonchalance, as if she wasn’t playing with her teacher’s precum. She looks at you as she studies your arousal on her fingers, the smirk never leaving her lips.

Sullyoon cleans your precum against her skirt, and she takes a step back, eyes never leaving yours. "Don't go anywhere, Mr Jang. Keep your perverted eyes on me, because you'll really like this."

Your hungry eyes widen when Sullyoon grabs the hem of her cropped jersey and pulls it over her head. She drops the jersey on the floor, and her hands reach for the band of her sports bra now, slowly tugging it up to reveal the flesh underneath, the soft curve slowly being unveiled before your eyes, then all at once when her breasts fall out of her bra, the hem resting above the soft curves of her chest.

"Here, Mr Jang, my breasts, bared for you."

Sullyoon doesn't let you admire them for long—she's already bending over, hands beneath her skirt. You’re tracking her every motion, even when they're hidden by her body or by her skirt, and you curse when a bundle of cloth drops down to pool at her ankles before she steps out of it.

"My panties are off, Mr Jang. I'm naked now. All for you.”

Sullyoon raises the cloth of her skirt, pulling it upward. She reveals all of herself to you right there in the school stairwell. Instantly, you're learning much more about her: first of all, Sullyoon shaves, except for a thin strip of hair right above her pussy; second, she’s a messy girl that drips so much slick down her thighs that it stains her socks and even drips down onto the floor beneath her; and finally, your dreams have come true—to be able to see Sullyoon’s fat pussy right in front of your eyes, exposed fully without clothing. You’ve spent many evenings after training sessions masturbating to the image of your student’s cameltoe in her shorts, and now you’re feasting your eyes on it in the flesh, your suspicions confirmed, cock twitching every time you lock your eyes back between her slick thighs.

"Are you just going to stare, Mr Jang? I'm naked for you, like I said, and I'm so wet that I'm dripping all over the floor already. My panties are ruined, and they have been ruined since we started talking."

The Korean girl steps forward again while you remain frozen. This time, she grabs your cock as she presses herself against you once more, her whine echoing with your groan when she rubs it against her drenched pussy. Sullyoon feels so warm against you, and you know it’ll feel just so sinful later, just the way you like it.

"Come on, Mr Jang. Haven't you always wanted to have sex with your students? I'll be your first, and if you impress me, maybe I'll get Jiheon-unnie and Yujin-unnie in bed with you as well. Do you want that, Mr Jang?”

The dumb nod you give her makes her smile.

“Then, what are you waiting for?

“Take me.”

#kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #male reader #smut #nmixx smut #sullyoon smut #nmixx sullyoon smut

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ozzgin · 7 months

Note

I love your reader insert stuff!! The yandere yazuka series was vvvv entertaining, I wish I had a big scary gangster to scare away my stalker lol

If you are open to requests, how about Idol!Reader x Yandere!Bodyguard. I love the trope so much, and I'm interested and what you'd do with the idea. No worries if you're not interested tho!

Best wishes

-🌟

I just finished writing it and you've got me punching the air with your prompt. It wasn't really my thing but I'm now sold. Thank you for the trope idea. :’)

Yandere!Bodyguard x Idol!Reader (I)

Short scenario featuring your bodyguard that takes his duty a little too seriously. Not that you’d mind…

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

TW: violence

(Cover from the manga “A girl and her guard dog”)

"Fantastic show tonight!"

The older man guides you in and closes the door behind him. You smile warmly and seat yourself on the sofa. He quickly follows, although at a terribly uncomfortable proximity. His legs are pressed against yours and he extends an arm behind you, pretending to stretch. You shuffle awkwardly and lock your hands in your lap. You can already tell where this is going.

"With your talent, I'm confident we could triple the number of attendants. We just need a bigger venue." He nods at you and taps your thigh with his other free hand as encouragement. You notice the wedding band digging into his skin.

"Alas, let us not waste the evening with business talk. I'm sure a stunning lady like you has better things to do." He laughs at his own compliment and ponders for a minute. "In fact, why don't we have dinner together? I know a great restaurant in the area."

You open your mouth to speak, but are distracted by the sudden, mild pressure on your leg. Somehow, his greasy fingers have wandered further up in the time you listened to his shameless offer. You've been in this career for long enough to guess what such proposals entail. If you say no, best case scenario he presses further, calling you a stuck up bitch and reminding you who has the power in this partnership. Worst case scenario, he leaves the room and the calls and invitations to perform will gradually drop.

Yet your situation is special, benefitting from an additional possibility. A loophole, if you may.

Should you scream? Oh, he always gets so angry when you act scared. It's an immediate trigger. He really has a soft spot for your glistening, frightened eyes. You glance up one final time at the perverted smirk silently disregarding you. If you are to be honest with yourself, you'd very much enjoy seeing it wiped off forever. Why not? You're feeling particularly mean today.

So without hesitation, you release a high pitched yell of help. The door bursts open and the hinges creak. A tall, toned man walks in, and without a word he lunges at the manager, pulling him by the collar of his cheap dress jacket. You hold your cheeks dramatically, and bat your eyelashes at your bodyguard.

"H-he tried to molest me..." you mumble between sobs.

That's all he needs to proceed. Now the real fun begins. You can hear the muffled screams of protest. The bones crack and the flesh bends under his iron fists. Standing before your bodyguard, they all end up looking like ragdolls. Comically limp and weak, folding and breaking with no resistance. It amuses you greatly.

When did it all begin? You can't remember anymore. You were in your early years and this scary looking stranger entered your little backstage room. His explanation was brief and to the point: as your fame increases, so will the threats to your safety. He was appointed as your bodyguard. You couldn't care less, so you just shrugged.

You've always been on the playful side. Not necessarily rude, just some innocent tease and banter wherever it's well received. Seeing him so quiet and stoic, you couldn't help but try to push his buttons: changing in front of him and requiring his assistance, occasionally asking him to pick you up and carry you because you could no longer walk. Naturally you would've stopped at the first complaint, but that's the strange part: no reaction ever came. He went along with everything. You assumed it's part of the job. Celebrities aren't known for their good manners, so hiring someone that loses their temper easily would be a fast ticket to termination.

Then you had your first encounter with one of the unpleasant fans you've been warned about. You could only stare in terror at your bodyguard's feral, unhinged reaction. The unfortunate fan's face was so disfigured, you wondered if anyone could ever manage to fix it back into shape. The bodyguard was panting and you could see the sweat coating his face and chest. You were rather confident there were many other ways to deal with it and this wasn't on the recommended list. Thus you felt compelled to ask the million dollar question:

"You act like a jealous spouse. Do you have a crush on me or something?"

You kind of regretted your audacity towards a man that had just nearly killed someone. But his features softened instantly and he turned to you, wiping his forehead and straightening his collar.

"I suppose so. Is that an issue?"

As you stared ahead, processing his unbothered act, you sensed your cheeks feverishly burning. Uh oh. You hadn't anticipated such a nonchalant confession. You thought back to all the times you stood before him, bare and flirty. Was he merely holding back his urges the entire time? Or was he finally paying you back for all the teasing? Then again, his face didn't betray any hint of humor.

"I've never heard you joke before", you decided to test the waters.

"I'm not. Why would I joke about something like this?" He gazed at you incredulously.

As somber and honest as ever. Well, that would indeed explain why he'd let you get away with the cheeky behavior. The more you considered it, the more entranced you became with the idea of indulging in such a relationship. As a famous idol, you couldn't be seen dating anyone. One rumor of you having a boyfriend and the agency would've had your ass suspended. But no one said anything about messing around with your bodyguard. He has to be with you all the time, so no one would suspect a thing. And you could definitely expand his list of responsibilities. You'd been terribly stressed lately, after all, and an outlet to release your frustrations would be most welcomed. Your bodyguard would never refuse pleasing his beloved.

You chuckled and pulled him towards your dressing room, giddy with excitement. Something about his imposing presence, like a wild animal that had just escaped from the leash, aroused you to no end. You've had your share of crazy fans, but this was the cherry on top.

"Should we leave?"

You're jolted out of your daydreams by his low, rough voice. Ah, you missed the grand finale. Too bad. The bodyguard approaches you, with the shirt wrinkled and the top buttons popped open under the shuffle of his vicious attack. You can feel the knot forming in your stomach.

"Not yet. You know how I get when you act like this..." You pout and look away. "You need to take care of me first."

He grins at your last statement.

"Of course. Is the sofa okay?"

You nod.

"Then let's get you undressed, miss."

Is this what they call a scary dog privilege?

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #female reader #yandere bodyguard #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #male yandere x reader #yandere original character

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munson-blurbs · 2 months

Text

Summary: Your lab partner, Eddie Munson, might be the most irritating person in your life. But when he unexpectedly comes to your rescue at a party, his chivalry is too hard to resist.

A collaboration with the absurdly talented @corroded-hellfire 🥰

WC: 3.8k

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fem!Reader, enemies-to-lovers, drinking, Billy Hargrove being a douche, fighting, blood, praise, fingering, accidental voyeurism if you squint, unprotected p in v, fluff because Red & I are some corny motherfuckers

Thank you @blueywrites for your idea that upped the spice 🌶️🌶️ Divider credit to @saradika

“Okay, so we need to mix the magnesium with hydrochloric acid,” you start, carefully measuring each substance and pouring them into a test tube, “and then we light the splint and see if it creates a squeaking noise.”

“Right,” Eddie says, not bothering to hide his disinterest. “And, uh, why are we doing this, exactly?”

You clench your jaw and exhale through your nose. Eddie getting under your skin is bad enough, but if he knew how much he annoyed you, he’d likely double down.

“We’re testing for the presence of oxygen,” you say with as much patience as you can muster. “And you need to wear safety goggles.”

He rolls his eyes and mimics you in a high-pitched and highly unflattering tone. “You need to wear safety goggles.”

He reaches for the matches, but you pull them away before he can grab them.

“I’m serious.”

Eddie scoffs. “Please. We’re not even blowing shit up. Besides, I have a gig tonight, and I’m not getting on stage with goggle marks on my face.”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll be the difference between your shitty band getting a record deal or not.”

“Whatever.” But he begrudgingly snaps on the protective gear, and you hand over the matchbox and the splint.

“So just li—seriously?” You watch, dumbfounded, as Eddie strikes a match and uses it to light the cigarette perched between his lips. Where had he kept it this whole time?

“What?” He asks with a smirk. “There’s, like, a million of these left. I’ll use the next one for the experiment thingy.”

He doesn’t get that far; Ms. O’Donnell marches over and yanks out the cigarette, snuffs it in the tray, and orders him to the principal’s office.

Leaving you to complete your work alone. Again.

Last week, it was because he’d kicked his feet up on the table and took a swig of Mountain Dew from a beaker. The week before, he’d blown up a rubber glove like a balloon and popped it right in Jason Carver’s ear, causing him to shatter a test tube on the ground.

You often felt more like a babysitter than a lab partner.

What you needed was a night out, so the party Steve Harrington was throwing tonight could not come any sooner. It wasn’t your usual scene, but all of your friends were going, and it certainly beat raiding your parents’ liquor cabinet alone.

Music blasts from an overpriced stereo system as you pull up to Steve’s house. Barely audible over the reverberating bass is the sound of drunken cheering as someone does a kegstand. You sigh, plaster a smile on your face, and make a beeline for the punch bowl.

Heather Holloway ladles jungle juice into an already pink-stained cup; you’re grateful for at least one kind face in a sea of Hawkins High students and recent graduates.

“Heather, hi!” You smile at her, plucking a new cup from the stack and filling it nearly to the brim. “How’s college?”

Heather takes a sip, wrinkling her nose at the vodka’s pungency. “Way better than high school,” she says with a laugh. “I’m taking an intro to biochem, and my lab partner actually shows up.”

You raise your glass in a mock toast. “Maybe you could take mine. He’s more trouble than he’s worth.”

She laughs. “Can’t be worse than when I was stuck with The Freak last year. He never showed up to class.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. And Ginny Anderson was his lab partner during his first senior year, and he pulled the same shit.”

Lucky them, you think wryly. Guess he decided to be a star student for his third go-around.

Frat boy-style cheering echoes from behind you and when you spin around you see Billy Hargrove strutting through the crowd, towards the kitchen. He throws a wink to a few girls and slaps five to one of the guys on the basketball team. If he’s coming into the kitchen, it’s the last place you want to be.

The living room is smoky and loud, but it beats getting stuck next to the booze with a jackass like Hargrove. Every thump of the bass has the little sips of alcohol you’ve taken sloshing around in your stomach. It’s hard to tell where you’re going or even what direction you’re going with so many people, so you just keep wading through groups until finally you come upon some space to breathe.

Unfortunately, this space brings you right back to where you began: in front of the kitchen. Just in time for Billy to sidle up next to you, the scent of whiskey and tangy cologne wafting off of him in waves.

“Where have you been all my life?” he asks, as if it’s supposed to be charming instead of nausea-inducing.

“Was better a second ago,” you mumble, not caring if he hears you or not. But when you move to step away from the blonde, the smarmy look slips from his too-pretty face and is replaced with a mask of set determination.

Strong fingers curl around your wrist, just tight enough to cause the barest amount of pain. The audacity and possessiveness are what piss you off the most, though.

A gentle tug of your arm does nothing to free it from his grip, so you try a little harder. Still nothing.

“Let go,” you seethe. The words are biting, but you’re a chihuahua up against a doberman.

Somehow, above your pulse pounding in your ears and the music thumping throughout the large house, you hear the distinct clang of a metal lunchbox snap shut and heavy boots on polished wood floors headed in your direction.

You sense Eddie over your shoulder before he appears in your peripheral vision. A moment hangs in the air where he and Billy stare at one another, and you watch them both, unsure of what is about to happen.

Eddie steels his jaw, unmoving. “Let her go,” he says, a slight rasp in his tone.

The jock remains unfazed, unthreatened. “Shouldn’t you be worshiping Satan’s asshole, Freak?”

“Shouldn’t you be worshiping Tommy’s? Or does he only worship yours?”

A cacophony of laughter stirs up an anger inside of Billy. He grabs Eddie by the jacket collar and slams him against the counter. “If you don’t fuck off in the next three seconds, I’ll kick you ass so hard that your uncle won’t even be able to identify your body.”

Eddie smirks. “One…two—”

Billy’s fist crashes into Eddie’s cheek with a sickening crack. Eddie returns with a punch to Billy’s abdomen, but not before his face sustains a few more hits.

Shock loosens its grasp on you and you call out for help, knowing it’s no use getting in the middle of their brawl. Someone—Tommy H, maybe—is chanting “fight!” and it takes all of your willpower not to clock him yourself.

Billy finally lets up when Eddie falls to the floor, clutching his stomach in agony. “Maybe next time, you’ll mind your fucking business,” he spits through his split lip—one of the few punches Eddie managed to land.

His smarminess is enough to provoke a reflexive response in you. As he gloats, you deliver a swift kick square to his crotch. A choked whine slips from Billy’s parted lips as he doubles over. You snort a laugh to yourself thinking about how the dumbbell is probably going to spin this story so he doesn’t seem like any less than the King of Hawkins High in front of his fellow party-goers. He’ll never be able to take away your satisfaction at using a pair of your nicest shoes to crush Billy’s balls though.

Eddie is still on the ground, wiping blood that’s trickled out of his right nostril onto the back of his sleeve. Turning your back to Billy, you bend down and offer your hand to Eddie. He accepts it with a weak smile and you help him to his feet.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Eddie says with a shrug and a sad smile that knots your stomach. He’s been hurt worse than this?

Unable to follow that train of thought, you reach out and slip your hand into Eddie’s. You give a small tug and he readily follows you down the hall of the Harrington home, the thumping beat of the bass becoming softer the further you walk.

In the back corner of the house you manage to find a bathroom that’s not occupied by someone puking the mixture of alcohol they’ve consumed or a couple hooking up, going at it like wild animals. This one looks like it’s been hardly touched all night and you click the lock into place once you and Eddie are inside.

Eddie takes a seat on the closed toilet lid, his calloused fingers coming up to gently touch the gash right across his chin. He winces at the tenderness of the wound while you crouch down and look in the cabinets underneath the sink for a first aid kit.

“Ah, here we are,” you announce as you pull out the small white box with the red cross on it. On your knees, you shuffle over towards Eddie and slide the kit along with you. “It’s not so bad,” you tell Eddie as you dab some rubbing alcohol on a small swath of gauze. “The face just bleeds more because—”

“Because the blood vessels in the face are so close to the skin,” Eddie finishes for you.

“Wow,” you say, raising your eyebrows at him. “I’m impressed.”

“We are in the same science class, you know,” Eddie teases with a playful smirk. It quickly turns to a grimace though as you begin to dab at his wounds.

“I thought I recognized you from the seat next to mine,” you joke back. There’s silence for a few moments while you clean off all the excess blood and bandage up the open cuts. “Why are you suddenly interested in science this year? I mean, I was talking to Heather before and she said you never showed up when you were her lab partner. So, what? Renewed attempt to graduate?”

“Uh,” Eddie says with an awkward chuckle. He avoids your eyes and rubs his hand along the back of his neck. “Something like that.”

“Got the hots for O’Donnell?”

He belly laughs at that thought, grimacing at the pain it causes. “Fuck, no!” He shakes his head. “She looks like a walrus and a naked mole rat had some sort of freaky baby.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Ew.”

“You were the one who suggested I’m into her,” Eddie rebutted, and fairly so.

“I didn’t make you compare her to a—”

A loud crash stops you mid-sentence, followed by someone drunkenly lamenting, “not the punch!”

“We’re probably safer hiding out in here for a bit,” Eddie says softly, “unless you want to volunteer to clean up whatever mess they made.”

“I think cleaning up your mess is more than enough for tonight.” To punctuate your point, you swipe a clean piece of gauze over a small cut you’d previously missed. “Besides, I wanna know what’s suddenly got you showing up to class.”

Eddie’s eyes roam your body far more conspicuously than he’d like, but the attention fills you with a newfound warmth. “You.” He snorts out a little laugh, startling you slightly. “Fuck, I’m drunker than I thought.”

“W-Wait.” You fight off the embarrassment that accompanies your stuttered words. “I’m the reason …?”

He noticed your reaction, mistaking disbelief for discomfort. “Does that make things…does that make you feel weird?” Nerves marr whatever joking tone he was trying to convey.

All you can do is shake your head. “No. It makes things…good.” Good insufficiently describes your reaction, though part of you waits for the other shoe to drop. It’s a prank, his way of getting back at you for—

A hooked finger in the belt loop of your jeans snags your attention, Eddie gently tugging you closer to him. “And now?”

“Still good. Better, actually.” Resting one hand on his sore chest, you lean in and add, “will it hurt if I kiss you?”

“Don’t care.”

Despite him not caring, you certainly care if you’re going to hurt him or not. Your mouth moves slowly towards his, lips just barely brushing against each other as your breaths co-mingle. It’s not enough for Eddie though, and he presses his lips against yours with more force, stealing the air from your lungs as your body melts against his. The back bathroom at the Harrington household is not something you would’ve considered romantic before, but right now it’s the only place you want to be. Tucked away in the corner with Eddie, trading explorative kisses as your hands roam each other's bodies.

Your body buzzes when Eddie’s tongue sweeps against yours, heat immediately pooling between your legs.

Instinctively, gingerly, you press your torso to his, one trembling finger hooking into his belt loop. A moan escapes you, soft but saturated with need. Eddie clocks it immediately.

“Mhm.” His smile threatens to break the kiss. “That’s it.”

You feel the button of your jeans unfasten, the sound of unzipping music to your ears. His hand slips between the denim and the newly exposed lace of your panties, grin widening when it reaches the damp patch.

Eddie’s hardness strains against the confines of his own pants, and you rush to relieve that ache. His exhale when you touch him—over his boxers, but not as gently as he touches you—makes you even wetter.

“Gotta have you.” He toys with your waistband but doesn’t explore further until he hears your ‘yes,’ pathetic and whimpering but consent nonetheless. “Good girl,” he growls, sending a shiver coursing through you.

The pads of his fingertips find your clit without struggle, rubbing precise circles over it that have you groaning his name. “Every time you say my name from now on,” he murmurs, “I’m gonna think about this.”

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” It’s part taunt and part truth; only his name is on your mind. Your back arches against the sink, porcelain digging into your skin, but you barely notice.

One strong hand reaches for the strap of your tank top, pulling it down so harshly that the fabric tears. He mutters a soft swear, tugs the rest of the shirt down until your bra is completely visible.

“Fuckin’ perfect.” Eddie kisses your chest, groaning when the sensation of his lips causes you to squeeze his throbbing cock. “Careful, or I’ll—”

He’s interrupted by the door swinging wide open, Billy and Heather wrapped around each other in drunken lust. Billy’s eyes widen, their blueness dulled from the liquor, when he sees that the bathroom is currently occupied—and by whom.

The intrusion startles you as well, but you’re much quicker at recovering than the inebriated asshole gaping at you from the doorway.

“Get the fuck out!” you hiss.

Heather turns her head to look in your direction, as if she hadn't been aware there was anyone else in the bathroom until you’d spoken up. It’s clear she’s had quite a few more drinks since you’d seen her in the kitchen.

Whether it’s the alcohol, the shock, or his own stupidity, Billy doesn’t make a move towards leaving, let alone tug Heather along with him. The blonde shakes a few curls out of his eyes, causing Heather to reach up and twirl one around her finger.

“Jesus Christ, is this douche even capable of hearing a woman if she isn’t moaning his name?” Eddie mutters to you before rounding on the drunken pair and raising his voice. “The lady said out. Now.”

Something finally snaps Billy out of his dazed state and he curls his lip, giving the two of you a half-hearted sneer. He pulls Heather out of the doorway so quickly that it looks like she gets whiplash as he slams the door closed behind them.

Eddie leans over and locks the door, giving the knob a twist for good measure. “Do me a favor, honey?” His voice is a ribbon of silk down your spine. “Turn around so you’re facing the mirror.”

You do as he says, hands planted on the sink ledge. Your shirt is torn, make-up smudged, and you’re out of breath from the impromptu make out session. Ducking your head, you’re determined to avoid your reflection until tobacco-scented words tickle your ear from behind.

“Be a good girl and look at yourself while I fuck you.” Eddie moves your thong over, exposing your pussy, and exhales with a tremble. His middle finger glides over your folds before pushing into you slowly. “You got wetter when I called you a good girl, didn’t you?”

“Mhm,” you manage, stifling a moan as his ring finger joins his middle.

A teasing pout graces Eddie’s lips. “Such a good girl. And only for me.”

“Only for you,” you echo.

He taps the head of his cock on your bare ass, leaving drops of pre-cum in his wake. “Gotta be inside you,” he growls. “Gotta fuckin’ feel what a good girl you are.”

The sensation of his cock dragging down along your folds mixed with him knowing just what to say to get you squirming has you dropping your head forward with a soft whimper. A strong, calloused hand quickly finds its way up to your throat though, and presses with just enough pressure to remind you that you’re supposed to be looking at yourself in the mirror.

When you lift your head, you’re greeted by the sight of a smirking Eddie behind you in the mirror.

“Atta girl,” he praises.

At a torturously slow pace, Eddie begins to push inside of you. A guttural groan slips past your gritted teeth as he stretches your walls, the pleasure causing you to curl your toes inside your shoes.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes out before pulling his hips back. “Pussy’s even tighter than I imagined.”

The mental image of Eddie laying in bed with his hand wrapped around his cock, thinking of you is enough to make your knees weak. They can’t buckle too much; Eddie has one hand gripping you tight and the other trailing down to your clit. Each deliberate circle is punctuated by a thrust, pleasure from every angle.

He kisses your shoulder blade, groaning when you tighten around him. “Look at yourself,” he growls his reminder. “Look how beautiful you are, all fucked out like this.”

You catch another glimpse; this time, you see Eddie’s lust-filled expression along with your own. He’s even further gone than you are, so focused on burying himself within you to care about the sweat matting his bangs to his forehead or the way his teeth dig into his lower lip.

“Say it.” His voice is half-commanding, half-pleading.

“S-Say what?” Each word is a struggle, your orgasm building to a peak you’d never before reached.

“That you’re beautiful.” He tugs you even closer to him, and there’s no mistaking his dominance for anything else. “So—goddamn—beautiful.”

You follow his order without a second thought. “I’m b-beautiful, all fucked out like th-this.”

Eddie’s hips snap against the plush of your ass at a frenetic pace. “That’s it; that’s my good girl.” Not a good girl, you note. His good girl.

One hand atop his, desperate for as much contact as possible, you moan: “your good girl.”

“Oh, fuck.” Everything is you—you and him together, and it drives him to the edge. “You…you gotta…’m so close,” he rambles.

“Me, too.” Panting breaths mingle with his groans, your walls tightening around him as you come. It’s so much, so intense, and tears cloud your vision resulting from the overwhelming bliss. “Eddie, oh, Eddie.”

He spills into you with a cry of your name. “H-ohmygod, holy fuckin’ shit.” His thrusts don’t stop until every last drop of his cum is inside you.

Eddie’s chest presses against your back, but he’s careful not to put all his weight on you. The feeling of him so solid and warm behind lulls you from pure ecstasy to warm contentment, not wanting to move out from beneath him.

A few silent moments pass before Eddie pulls out of you, both of you disappointed by the loss of contact. But Eddie’s hands refuse to let you go entirely, gently running over your hips and up your sides. The touch is featherlight and sends a comforting tingle throughout your limbs.

“You with me?” Eddie’s worn-out voice asks you.

“Mhmm,” you hum in acknowledgment. “Don’t wanna move.”

Eddie gives a husky chuckle in reply before he stands up, reluctantly taking a step away from you. Your own muscles whine in protest as you stand straight, the tell-tale signs of a good fucking already settling in.

The two of you begin to clean up, each slipping back into articles of clothing along the way. One question prickles the back of your mind in the quiet room and you know your brain won’t be able to rest until it has an answer.

“Uh, Eddie?” you ask once you’ve cleaned up your smeared lipstick.

“Yeah?”

“Are you still going to come to class? Or, you know, now that you’ve had me you won’t have a reason to anymore?” You try to hide the insecurity in your tone but there was no mistaking the slight edge your words had.

Eddie pauses mid-buckling his belt and gives you a frown.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says and the nickname alone already has your engine revving for a round two. “I wouldn’t sit through O’Donnell’s class for someone I only wanted to fuck. If I’m gonna listen to that hag drone on and on then there’s a damn good reason I’m sitting my ass in that classroom.” With a sigh, Eddie steps closer to you and after a moment’s hesitation, cups your face in his hands. “Can I take you out? Do things, ya know, the right way?”

A little trill of a giggle bursts out of you, which makes Eddie frown. But you’re quick to let him in on what you found amusing.

“You mean having sex in a bathroom at Steve Harrington’s house isn’t the typical way romances start?”

A grin slowly slides across Eddie’s mouth and you swear it’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. All you want to do is keep that smile on his handsome face as much as you possibly can.

“A romance, huh?” He clicks his tongue. “If I’d known that’s what this was, I would’ve at least fucked you in a guest room.”

You let your fingers brush over the fly of his jeans, feeling a gentle twitch from behind the zipper. “How about for round two?”

Eddie holds your face in his hands as he kisses you deeply, only breaking it to smile and murmur:

“You read my mind, Beautiful.”

#eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut

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cowboylor · 3 months

Text

gold-skinned eager baby

— the only thing that can bring charles down to earth after a race. charles leclerc x fem!reader (18+) oral (f. receiving), soft dom charles, (1) spank.

your sundress is hiked up to your waist before he sinks to his knees.

charles fists the floral pattern in his hand, snaking the other to hastily rub his fingers against you—quickly, without keeping rhythm in mind, anything to keep you whimpering into his neck.

“charles,” you’re saying between his rough kisses. “baby—”

you can't finish any thought when he gets like this. so stoic and eager to have his way with you that you can't help but abandon all words and let him spread your legs however he pleases.

when he finally trails past your navel and he's peering up at you from his knees, you're dry-mouthed and not sure where to put your hands.

“let me taste you,” he orders gruffly, using both hands to keep your dress above your panty line. your head falls back when you feel his breath waft over your clothed core. pressing his mouth against you, he murmurs, “open up for me, mon amour.”

you’re suppressing your moan through bitten lips, resisting the urge to press yourself deeper onto his face but trying to remain considerate.

“you—” you feel your eyelids involuntarily flutter when his nose nudges against your clit. “you don’t have to.”

your body shudders when you feel him chuckle against you, before moving to look you in the eye. you swallow roughly, staring back at his dark eyes that seem more blown out than usual.

“this,” his fingertips hook around the band of your underwear. “is for me.”

it becomes clear. pleasing you is always something charles has been able to control. something that he takes pride in—hearing the noise you make whenever he takes you over the edge is something he'll remember even after he forgets his own name. it's a constant. it can't be taken away by a bad qualifying session. and when would you ever deny him?

he’s quick with it; his calloused hands running up your thighs before gripping them tightly, pulling you against his mouth again. he presses a wet kiss against your swollen bud, murmuring incoherent praises into you until you’re whining and pulling his hair with nowhere to go but the wall behind you.

“charles,” you gasp his name like a prayer. “please.”

he hitches your leg over his shoulder, his mouth continuing to work against your cunt—drawing sloppy, figure eights with the tip of his tongue and glancing up at you for stolen looks at your fucked-out expression.

“right there,” you muse through bitten lips. “you’re good—you’re so good.”

your praise is met with a swift slap to the side of your thigh.

his muffled agreement against your cunt makes you stifle a smile and you have to resist the urge to tell him how good he is again. how good he is at everything he does and especially, how good he is at making you fall apart on his tongue.

“fucking—” he growls between sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. “—soaking.”

you’re mewling, arching against the wall and as he holds your thighs apart. you just about melt when he peers up at you again, eyebrows knitted in frustration from everything else and desire for you. your mouth runs dry. his face is smothered against you before you could remind him how much you love him.

“come for me,” he groans into you—the vibration sending shocks down your spine. “come all over my mouth.”

there are not enough oh god's left in you by the time the heat in your lower stomach coils and you're tugging on his hair harshly. when his nose presses harshly into your clit as he lapping at your core, your thighs begin to shake.

when he pulls your sundress back down, he’s turning you around just as quickly. pressing you against the wall from behind, you gasp as he moves to press himself into you.

“you can take more, can’t you, cherie?” he’s muttering on the cusp of your ear. your eyes roll back because yes, yes—you would take everything he gave you in this moment. “be a good girl and take more for me, yes?”

#idk #i love a good blurb #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc smut #*my writing #this is slightly diff from my usual writing #idk if i love it or hate it but i can’t write anymore so this is just for fun yay

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allywthsr · 4 months

Text

24hrs with Lando | (l.norris)

summary: you also follow Lando‘s daily routine in the new quadrant video

wordcount: 1.8k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of smut

notes: requested! Kinda rushed and don’t like it as much as I hoped I would :/

requests are closed!

When the doorbell rang, Lando jumped up from the couch and opened the door, today was going to be hard, but fun, you knew it. You followed Lando and welcomed Ethan and Morgan to your Monaco home, after a quick hug you also said hello to the camera, it wasn’t unusual for you to be in front of the camera, and being Lando Norris’ girlfriend comes with that. Because you were a fan favorite, they wanted you to join him for the next a day in the life video, and who were you to deny their wishes?

The day started with showing the boys and the crew around your apartment, Morgan breaking the case of Lando’s trophy and the next thing was breakfast.

The overnight oats weren’t on your normal breakfast schedule, you were more of a toast person, but for the sake of the video you ate it, making the same jokes as Ethan, saying you were full after a few bites. You stood next to Lando and offered him the rest of yours, he actually kind of liked what he was eating, and wasting food wasn’t good, so he happily ate the rest of yours.

“Yo mate, wanna eat mine too? I only spit slightly in it.“

“Nah, I’m good, I don’t care about Y/N’s spit, but I don’t want to eat yours.“

“I bet you don’t care about her spit, probably eating different things too.“

Lando laughed high-pitched and you blushed, thinking about this morning where he went down on you, making you moan and yanking on his hair until you two really had to get up.

The kitchen was filled with laughter and jokes until it was time for the workout, this was something you were used to, often joining Lando for a workout, but your own workout. You and Jon had created a workout specifically made for you, you weren’t training your neck, but a full-body workout was almost on the daily agenda.

You all went to the small home gym, and Lando looked for the resistance bands.

“They might be in our bedroom.“

“How’ve the workout bands made it to the bedroom?“, Ethan asked while Lando went and grabbed them off his bedside table, again, you blushed and turned around, so you faced the wall, laughing quietly. While the boys gasped you remembered the night before, you two forgot your handcuffs at the last hotel you were in and forgot to get new ones, so yesterday Lando wanted to tie your hands up, he couldn’t think of something else to use but the workout bands, quickly grabbing them from the gym and he could finally tie your hands to the headboard. Clearly forgetting to put them back in the morning.

When Lando came back and found the three of you giggling, well, Ethan and Morgan and you stood against the wall blushing, he knew what the topic was, a slight red tone covered his cheeks as well, he wasn’t ashamed of what people would think, but he knew his friends wouldn’t let him live that down easily.

“I’m not going to comment on that“, Lando grinned and put an arm around your shoulder while turning you back around.

The workout wasn’t as fun as the breakfast was, Lando showed the exercise before the three of you repeated it, and you did work out, but Lando’s workout was harder and with more weight than yours was, lets not even begin with the neck training, you saw Lando suffering every day, but doing it yourself was probably the hardest thing ever. You’ve tried it before, as a joke, Jon barely pulled on your neck, to not hurt it, but you almost cried when he did, and he barely used any weight.

You trusted Lando, and he knew to use barely any weight at all, he slightly pulled the thing on your head and you were already struggling to hold your head straight. With a pout, you looked at Lando and he knew that was your sign to stop, he removed the device from your head and kissed your forehead, to make up for causing you pain.

Morgan commented this with a quiet ‘Aww’, which you smiled away, you weren’t hiding the PDA in front of the camera, but you also didn’t shove it in anyone's face, which was why it always made you a little uncomfortable. You knew this would be all over Tumblr, TikTok, and Reddit when the video came out, you could already hear the comments, not that they would be bad, but the fangirls would freak out, good and bad.

The boys laughed while doing the neck workout, you also couldn’t keep your laugh in, it looked funny, but you weren’t better. The comments from the boys were the funniest too, especially when Ethan made that comment about being pulled by Lando into his crotch when Morgan said he would let go, you let out a laugh, “Y/N has let go before, I know that“, with a gasp, you hit him lightly on the shoulder.

When Lando did it, it was no surprise that he looked brilliant while doing it, you were used to pulling on the rope, Jon wasn’t always around and you tried it once, and weren’t too bad at it, so it was a normal thing for you. You had to almost put your whole body to work to challenge his neck, but you did it perfectly in his eyes.

Ethan and Morgan were surprised by how much power you could put in when doing that, Lando couldn’t be prouder of you, thanking you silently with a squeeze of his arms when you were done.

Next was the protein shake, this also wasn’t something new for you, Jon always provided a shake for you too, and you were happy that he included you like that, ordering you pre-made food when you tell him, you don’t have time to cook a meal.

After the shake, it was time for the cryotherapy, you’ve never done that before, and weren’t too opposed to trying it out either. You knew Lando wasn’t the biggest fan of it, and it wasn’t a normal coldness, it was fucking freezing. The cryotherapy wasn’t too far away from your apartment, so you walked there, getting some steps in and breathing some fresh air, everyone joked about it, but you knew they all would be shaking in a few minutes.

Because you didn’t want to stand there in your lingerie, you changed into a bathing suit and met with the guys in front of the door to the frozen hell, you were given gloves, masks, and the cute headbands, to keep the most important parts of the body somewhat warm. You did check out Lando in his boxers, and you loved the Calvin Kleins on him, the fabric did little to hide what he was trying to cover up, and that got you drooling, not only in your mouth, but you just hoped you couldn’t freeze from the inside.

Together with the boys you got in the cabin and looked at Lando with big eyes, you knew it would be cold, but you didn’t know it would be THAT cold.

When Lando said his mustache is frozen you couldn’t contain but make a little side comment: “Just shave it off then.“ He couldn’t believe you said that, he was proud of his beard and you knew it, you still needed to get used to it.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest to cover your hard nipples a little, right when you did, Lando mentioned how fragile his nipples felt, and the only thing you could do was nod. Yours hurt a lot, not only did they feel like they would fall off any second, but you felt serious pain in them. You prayed the three minutes would go over fast because you couldn’t stay in here longer, you tried to stay near Lando, to get some body heat off of him, but he was as cold as you were. He quickly knew what you were trying to do, so he pressed your chest to his’ and stroked your arms to create some warmth.

“It’s unfair, ginge, they have each other to keep warm, we need to cuddle too.“

Morgan pushed Ethan with a disgusted look away from him and they both laughed. When you pushed yourself away from Lando because it was time to leave, you accidentally touched his nipple, Lando commented: ”Ouch, Y/N, my nipple,“ which made you all burst out in laughter. You were extremely happy when you went through the door and finally felt the warmth of the room, it was way warmer than you thought before, thanks to the cold chamber.

Next was lunch, you were somewhat used to these meals, they weren’t a delicacy, but good enough to eat them, todays chicken teriyaki looked delicious, despite Morgan and Ethan saying otherwise. You and Lando dug into it, quietly rolling your eyes at the boys saying how disgusting it was, you‘d like to have a pizza now too, but that wasn’t on Lando’s meal plan, tho you might order some takeout later when you were sitting in front of the tv, but they didn’t need to know that. You chatted while eating and played some Jenga afterward, you were impressed at how high you were able to build the tower.

The last thing for the video was the simulator, which also wasn’t a new thing for you, especially at the beginning of your relationship, you often sat in the simulator and drove around the different tracks. It was a lot of giggles and snarky comments from Lando, but it was so much fun, you tried your best and almost ended up on top, but around the last corner you slipped off track and straight into the wall. But Lando kissed it better, the two boys made kissing sounds when he pressed some on your forehead, and you blushed again.

The rest of the day couldn’t be filmed because Lando had meetings with McLaren, and no one was allowed to be near him, in case someone could overhear some important things about the car and share it with the world. Lando trusted the boys, but it would be unfair for them to sit around in the flat and do nothing, so Lando send them on a helicopter ride.

In between meetings, Lando had his midday snacks, you stopped following his day because you had your own stuff to do, but after Lando finished all of his stuff, you two ordered some pizza to enjoy in front of the TV.

taglist: @millinorrizz @jamieeboulos @loxbbg @noneofyourfbusinessworld @myownwritings

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #formula 1 #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #lando norris one shot #lando imagine #lando #Quadrant

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purplesuitcowboy · 3 months

Text

tw: rape and incest. please don't read this if that's not what you're looking for.

this is part 2. read part 1 (x)

Not knowing what else to do with herself, Karly dutifully finished scrubbing the floor. She even cleaned up the puddle of cum that they had left on the floor. She tried hard to focus on the task at hand and not the heat between her legs. As horrifying as the situation was, Karly found herself impossibly horny and the only thing she really wanted was to be filled up by her father's fat cock. The only thing scarier than the fact that he had ruthlessly fucked her was the growing desire she felt for him to do it again. There must be something wrong with her, there was no way she truly wanted him to do that to her again.

The task finally finished, she wandered into the back of the house to find her father. Eventually, she found him in his study. She knocked lightly on the door, which had been left sightly ajar, and then entered the room. He was typing away at his computer like he usually was, completely absorbed in his work.

"Ah, I finished the floor," she told him, voice uncharacteristically shaky.

She didn't know what to do with this man who looked just like her father but behaved like a stranger. She stood on edge, wary of what he was going to do next.

"Alright, let me finish this and then we'll go."

She nodded and turned on her heel to leave but he stopped her.

"Just come here and wait while I finish working on this. I shouldn't be much longer."

Her face betrayed her confusion and she wanted to resist, to run away to the safety of her room but she did as she was told. She walked behind his desk, careful not to knock over any stacks of books or boxes of paper, and stood next to him awkwardly. He took a break from his typing to level his heavy gaze in her direction. A tsk of disapproval escaped from his lips as he pulled her into his lap. Karly released an undignified squawk of surprised as he dragged her to him.

She settled awkwardly in his lap, her ass pressed against his pelvis and her legs spread out on either side of his. He hadn't held her like this since she was a child but the abnormality of the contact didn't seem to bother her father, he kept his arm draped loosely around her waist as he continued to work. After several minutes passed with him dutifully working while she sat in his lap, she began to relax. She leaned her head back onto his shoulder, lazily casting her gaze to his computer screen. Her eyes glazed over as she looked at rows and rows of meaningless numbers recorded in an excel spreadsheet. Her mind wandered and she sat looking at nothing, thinking of nothing in particular.

She didn't seem to notice his hand drop from high on her waist to above the waist band of her shorts, and then between her legs. The first time his hand brush against her pussy, she thought it was an accident but the second time, she knew that it wasn't.

"Daddy," Karly said, trying unsuccessfully to push his hand away.

"Come on," he told her, drawing his hand away from his laptop and up under her top to grope her perky tits. Roughly, he pulled and pinched at her nipples until they stood erect. "Don't act like you don't like it."

Karly stammered trying to come up with a response. Of course, she didn't like it. It was wrong. She couldn't believe that he would imply otherwise. Ever insistent, he slid his hand under the waistband of her shorts, rubbing two fingers along the chubby lips of her pussy before he slipped them inside of her wet cunt. A loud slck slck sound could as he pumped his fingers in and out of her slick folds. Karly was torn, half mortified that such a sound came from her body and half pleased that her father's fingers were filling her pussy again. He tsked again, his voice low and his breath tickled her ear.

"Look at this, you're soaked."

Karly's gasped at the sensation. She tried to get up but she couldn't get out of his lap, his grip on her was too tight. Steadily, he pumped his fingers in and out of her, breaking every now and again to circle her little clit. She panted and whimpered, familiar warmth began to pool in her stomach. It felt too good. As he continued to grope and finger fuck her, she could feel his hard on grow against her ass. She wanted it, she realized. She wanted more. Hesitantly, she rocked her hips back and forth, grinding against his fingers and his cock.

"That's it," he told her, voice low in her ear," atta girl."

She felt herself being slowly drawn to the edge but right before she could tumble over into the pure bliss of orgasm, he stops removing his hand from her shorts. She turned her head to look at him, desiring so much for him to put his hand back where it was but afraid to say the words. He pushes her to her feet and then tugs at her shorts.

"Come on. Take these off for me."

She does as she is told, sliding the tiny shorts off of her legs, exposing her bare cunt and bottom to her father. She hears a light jingle and soft rustling, as he moves his thick cock from his trousers. This is her first time seeing it and she almost cannot believe that he got the whole thing inside of her. Seeing it scared her but her father didn't give her too much time to dwell on the feeling as he pulled her back into his lap onto his waiting cock. It slid in easier this time than before and it still hurts but now it hurts in a way that she finds almost pleasurable. She is deliciously full, completely impaled on his cock.

Her father put a hand on her hip, moving her hips with his hand to show her how he wanted her to move. She followed his guidance, grinding her cunt down on his hard cock. He thrust up into her, matching her movements until they were rutting against each other. He wraps one of his arms around her waist for leverage and with his free hand, he places his fingers between her legs rubbing her clit. Karly's pussy clenched tightly around his cock as she came, shuddering and shaking in his arms.

She had gotten her orgasm and now it was his turn. He pushed her forward so was she bent over his desk. His hands gripped tightly to her hips, he fucked her at a rough pace, thrusting deep into her womb over and over again. She scrambled for purchase, trying to grab hold of something on the desk to stabilize her but she only ended up knocking a stack of papers off of his desk.

He wrapped a hand around her neck and pulled her back to him until her shoulders met his chest and her ass pressed against him. Her body arched like a bow as he continued his brutal onslaught. The rhythm of his thrusts became frantic as he neared his orgasm. For the second time that day, he shot his load deep into her cunt. Karly sagged in his arms, as he caught his breath. He hadn't felt this kind of desire since he was a young man. He'd just cum but looking at her with her ass out, spread out over his desk had him craving yet another round.

He hadn't slept with anyone since his wife died but fucking Karly had awoken the beast in him and he was insatiable. It was becoming impossible to look at her without wanting to fuck her until she was shaking, crying, and stuffed full of his cum.

He pulled out of her with a grunt and a load of his cum followed, dripping down her legs and onto the floor. They had things to do today. He couldn't just spend the day with his fingers and his cock in his daughters tight pussy. He tucked himself into his pants and then handed Karly her shorts.

"Get yourself cleaned up, okay? We still need to go to the pharmacy."

Without a word, Karly took her shorts and wandered into her bedroom to get dressed to leave the house. She cleaned herself up and dressed, trying not to think about the fact that she'd fucked her dad again and that she had enjoyed it. She met him at the front door of their home. He stared, unabashedly at her taking in her perky tits in her tight crop top and her full legs and hips which were accentuated by her pleated skirt. It wasn't anything outside of the normal for her clothing wise but he'd never gotten to truly enjoy it until now.

"Dressed like this, you're making me think you want me fuck you again. Are you wearing underwear?"

A shocked look crossed Karly's features at his words. Suddenly self conscious, she looked down at her clothing. She guessed that the shirt was a little tight but she didn't think that she'd picked him on purpose to bait him. She almost wanted to change. His question about underwear caught her off guard and she found herself nodding in confirmation.

"Give 'em here."

There's no way that he was serious. She searched his face looking for a sign that it was joke but found none. He stood there at the door to their home with his hand out, waiting for her to give him her underwear. She caved and pulled down her cotton panties, handing them to her father who slid them into his pocket.

"Alright, let's go."

#abuse k1nk #breeding toy #rough kink #rough cnc #rap3 fantasy #degrading k1nk #hard k1nk #cnc brat #1cky daddy #1cky thoughts #cnc fr33use #cnc k!nk #fauxc3st #fauxcest

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