#he became a pendant?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hottestvirgin · 3 months

Text

ceo sunghoon who loves taking care of you because you're his ౨ৎ

warnings. smut, fluff, age gap (sunghoon!30s & reader!20s), swearing, dirty talk, pet names (ex. princess), unprotected sex, big dick p.sh, praising, light degrading, sweet talking

you’re just a girl. a college girl who’s broke and working part time to gather up whatever you can make to pay off your tuition and other fees. this has been a routine in your life for a while. that was until you met sunghoon.

you got involved with this man unintentionally. while working at a local cafe, he ordered a small black coffee. this man was attractive. like.. very attractive. his blanched skin equated perfectly with his black, dapper full suit. bangs parted perfectly over his forehead which were accompanied by the thin glasses he wore.

while he scrolled on his phone you stole a few glances as you poured his coffee. when he reaches to grab the plastic cup, you easily get distracted by the beaming rolex on his wrist and boom. you spill the coffee all over the counter.

“shit. did it get on you?” the man asks while he slips his phone into his pocket. he doesn't seem pissed but you still palm your heating face, shaking your head at his question. but even after explaining that he was running late for a meeting, he helps you clean your mess.

“i’m park sunghoon. and you?” the man breaks the awkward silence and never breaks eye contact. even when he grabs the coffee from your tense hand, fingers grazing against yours to grip the cup so he can prevent it from spilling again.

“i’m y/n.” you say with a small, nervous smile.

“gorgeous name.”

and like that, sunghoon was hooked. you were charming, and gorgeous. and so the cafe you worked at became his favorite. he would order the same small sized black coffee.

“how can you drink plain black coffee every morning?” you ask sunghoon as he sips from his cup. his lean frame hovers over the counter while you wipe the same spot repeatedly to keep your mind from spiraling.

“keeps me busy, princess.” he simply answers. when he tells you that he’s the ceo of a family-owned business, it all makes sense.

soon, you both exchanged contacts which blossomed into a thing. a thing where he pays for your tuition and anything else you need and you repay him with sex. it’s that situation. and you would’ve hated it if the circumstances were different. but you were fucking a rich, hot ceo with the biggest dick ever. you wouldn’t change that for anything.

stepping outside after clocking out, you see that familiar tesla parked and waiting for you. the whiskey smell of sunghoon’s cologne immediately hits you when you get inside his car. his scent never fails to calm you after long hours of being around coffee.

“d’you like this, princess?” sunghoon whips out a small box with a gorgeous heart pendant inside. your heart thumps at the sight, blood rushing to your cheeks as you take the box into your hands. you catch a glimpse at the price sticker.

“it’s so beautiful. but the price is..” you’re interrupted with a peck on your cheek.

“i’ve spent way more on you, pretty. this ain’t nothing.” taking the pendant out of the box, “turn around f'me..”

it’s embarrassing how fast he gets aroused when he sees how pretty the pendant looks on you and how it contrasts with your glowing skin.

“looks pretty on me?” you ask, slightly pulling the collar of your shirt down to show the pendant on your chest.

sunghoon nods. “let’s go back to my place.”

“n-now?”

“mhm,” he pauses for a minute, “or do you wanna get fucked here?”

your stomach churns at his arousing words and you clench your thighs together. you wouldn’t mind it. instead you found yourself sprawled out on his bed. his hot, heavy body on top of you.

you can feel every vein on his big cock grinding against your walls with each thrust, his swollen tip abusing that sensitive spot deep within you.

you’re being fucked dumb. you couldn’t even remember to swallow which had you drooling. in a panic, you reach to grasp onto his arms in hopes of him slowing down, but he doesn’t.

“move your hands, princess. i gotchu.” sunghoon grunts with shivering breaths following afterwards. he observes how his cock can barely fit in your dripping cunt, how he can barely bottom out. he groans at the sight.

“hoon.. i can’t.. fuckfuckfuck.” you sob, turning your head away from him.

sunghoon tsks, “unt uh. let me see your face.” he grabs your cheeks and yanks your head towards him, squishing them together and chuckling at your muffled moans.

he traces his thumb over your swollen lips and shoves it in your mouth. that same hand travels down to your tits and he rubs over your hardened nipples. sunghoon slows his hips and focuses more on his rhythm.

“you’re so wet,” he groans, absolutely loving how much you're squirming and crying underneath him, “so gorgeous. all for me.”

“j-just for you, hoonie.. feels so good. so big..” you slur. and you can tell he’s close from his sloppy thrusts and unsteady breaths.

sunghoon nuzzles his face into your neck, licking and kissing at your skin just near the pendant he got you. fuck. he’s so obsessed with you. how’d he get so damn lucky?

“princess, say you love me.” he whimpers, wet lips still on your neck.

you stomach churns at his words. and you could feel your own orgasm building from the desperation in his voice.

“love you so much, so so much..” you whimper, clenching hard around him as that spring coils tightly and releases. you cum hard around him with a shuttered cry, vision fading to black.

“fuuuck.” sunghoon spills his thick, sticky cum deep inside your womb, rocking his hips against you while he chases his orgasm.

“you should quit your job.” sunghoon says.

“what?” he stops cooking and turns to you in confusion. you had thought that he understood that you weren’t, unfortunately, wealthy like him and needed that job for the money.

“did you forget, princess? you got me now.”

“i’d rather us date before risking that..” you say, biting back your lip nervously in hopes that he doesn’t get upset. but he only chuckles.

“then let’s date.” sunghoon smiles.

#sunghoon smut #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon hard thoughts #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #smut #kpop smut #hottestvirginwrites

3K notes · View notes

lecsainz · 5 months

Note

hii can u do percy jackson x aphrodite reader?? ty🙏🏼

ISN’T IT OBVIOUS

parings: percy jackson x aphrodite!reader

an: I'm not ready for the last episode 😭

summary: the one where you're a daughter of aphrodite and end up with the son of poseidon.

( my last work for riodanverse || go to main masterlist )

You and Percy crossed paths during the trio's mission. You happened to be in the same diner as Ares, embarking on your own quest. Grover sensed your presence, and before you knew it, you became an unexpected addition to the group. Fortunately, Ares treated the group better upon learning that you were a daughter of Aphrodite, as he couldn't mistreat a child of his beloved goddess.

Percy was utterly captivated when he first laid eyes on you. "Who's she?" he asked Grover, his attention completely absorbed by your presence. Grover chuckled at Percy's obliviousness to everything else but you.

Impressing the trio as you slay a monster, you confidently remark, "What? Just because I've just painted my nails doesn't mean I can't defeat this ugly thing."

After you confidently slay the monster, Percy looks at you and exclaims, "I'm gonna marry that girl!" Annabeth rolls her eyes, saying, "Oh boy," while Grover bursts into laughter, leaving you blushing

He'd ALWAYS look at you with a little smirk.

It took Percy a while to muster the courage to ask you out, and when he finally did, he stumbled over his words in a nervous attempt.

"Uh, hey, Y/N," Percy started, scratching the back of his head. "I was thinking, you know, maybe we could, um, grab some... uh, food? Yeah, like a, um, dinner thing?" His cheeks turned a subtle shade of pink as he anxiously awaited your response. You couldn't help but smile at Percy's adorable nervousness. With a teasing glint in your eye, you replied, "Dinner sounds great, Percy. I mean, if you're not too scared to share a meal with me."

You wouldn't even need to use charm on him because, well, he's head over heels for you and would do anything without you even asking.

Percy would be the type to love listening to you talk for hours just to admire you.

On a quiet night, Percy appeared at your cabin door with a small box. He rubbed the back of his neck, a bit awkward, and said, "Hey, brought this for you." Opening the box, you found a delicate necklace with a seashell-shaped pendant, reminiscent of the sea. Percy nervously smiled, "I saw this and thought of you, I don't know... thought you might like it." Your heart melted with his sincerity, and you said softly, "Percy, it's perfect. Thank you so much." He scratched his head, a blush rising on his cheeks. "It was nothing, really." Before you knew it, you hugged him and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. Your siblings from the Aphrodite cabin, who were not exactly discreetly observing, let out a chorus of "awww" and enchanted smiles.

Deep down, Percy hopes you won't break his heart just for the sake of the Aphrodite kids' ritual.

During a casual conversation with your sisters, you found yourself talking about Percy. The way he smiled, the warmth in his eyes – everything seemed to stand out more vividly. Your sisters, with their knowing smiles, teased you playfully. "Y/N, you're glowing whenever you talk about him!" Blushing, you tried to play it off. "Oh, come on, it's nothing. We're just friends." One of your sisters winked. "Friends or not, there's something in the air when you're around him. Admit it, you like him."

He'd want to protect you from everything, and if you got hurt, Percy would blame himself for days until you assured him it wasn't his fault.

As you and Percy strolled through the camp, a boy from the Ares cabin approached you, nervously asking if you'd like to go out sometime. You exchanged a polite smile, ready to turn him down gently, but Percy surprised you. "Sorry, she's taken," he said, intertwining his fingers with yours. You looked at him with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. The Ares boy seemed taken aback, and you couldn't help but chuckle. "Taken? Percy, are we...?" Percy grinned, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "Yep, we are. Officially. If you're okay with that, of course." Your heart warmed at his words, and with a playful grin, you replied, "Absolutely, seaweed brain."

Percy LOVES hugging you, so there would be lots and lots of hugs.

You two would be the clingy type, doing everything together.

He'd get suspicious every time a guy approached because, well, you're irresistible, and he definitely wouldn't trust the Hermes boys.

You'd suggest spa nights in Percy's cabin, and he'd gladly agree. Many times, he'd ask you to sleep in the cabin with him.

Movie nights that would end with you falling asleep on his shoulder, and he wouldn't know how to handle it at first, but he'd get used to it, feeling like the luckiest demigod in camp.

Percy trying to make cheesy pick-up lines for you in public and leaving you redder than a tomato.

Let's face it; you'd be THE it couple at the camp.

#percy jackson x you #percy jackson x oc #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson oneshot #percy jackson headcanon #percy jackson fic #percy jackson #pjo x you #pjo x reader #luke castellan pjo #pjo fanfic #pjo tv show #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan headcanons #aphrodite!reader

2K notes · View notes

donatellawritings · 2 months

Note

Sorry if this isn’t a good prompt, I’m just curious to know how Rafe and sweetheart!reader would spend a normal day together? Like he doesn’t have anything to do that day and neither do you, so you’re just spending the day together. The domesticity of it all is so 🥺

this is actually adorable!

sundays were the one day out of the week that rafe designated to be solely dedicated to the two of you spending quality time together and making sure that everything within the tannyhill residence was up to par, prior to the upcoming weekdays. so, the two of you usually slept in, the bright north carolina sun seeping through your powder white drapes as you stirred awake. all squinty-eyed and half-asleep, your naked body sprawled out as you moaned with your morning stretch.

swinging a leg over the side of rafe’s waist, you press your puffy lips to his stubbly jaw, earning a stubborn groan from your sleepy man, “you can stay here, papi — i just need to do some laundry and make breakfast, tienes hambre?” you coo softly, your acrylic nails gently scraping at rafe’s scalp as he lowers his head to your chest, nodding against your skin.

“thank y’baby,” rafe mumbles, his voice hoarse and raspy from his drowsy state as he lazily cups a gentle hand around the plush fat of your ass, kneading the skin for a brief moment, before laying a light, yet stinging slap to the skin.

throwing your head back, you let out a held back moan, your tangled hair falling down your exposed shoulder blades, “nooo, m’still sore from last night,” you whine with a breathy laugh, playfully rolling your eyes as rafe jiggles the soft skin, whilst peppering kisses against the skin of your neck, “papi, c’mon — necesito limpiar la casa,” you reach down, your delicate hand gently raising rafe’s busy head from your chest.

forcing a pout on your plump lips, you watch as rafe swats the side of your thigh, clearing his throat, “a’ight, y’can clean, i’ll make us breakfast, yeah?” he rasps, leaning down to press a quick kiss to the diamond encrusted ‘R’ pendant that hung from your dainty chain.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

after about twenty more minutes of getting lost in a wet and noisy kiss, you and rafe decided it would be a smart idea to shower together.

“shit, baby — keep fuckin’ y’self on my dick,” rafe groans, the steamy and dewy shower raining down his face, both of his hands fisted in your hair as you throw your hips back against his, the palms of your hands and side of your face pressed against the fogged up glass shower door.

stretching your swollen lips into a lopsided smile, you continue to roll your hips, soft moans leaving your sore throat as rafe’s slippery hand slides around your throat, swiftly pulling you flush against his chest.

meeting the fat of your ass with quick thrusts, rafe tightens his hold on your hair, catching your parted lips in a swallowing kiss, “gonna get y’pregnant — i fuckin’ swear,” he huffs, sending a sharp slap to the wet skin of your ass, earning a pained mewl from you, “y’want me to make you a mommy, yeah?” rafe questions, his bright blues hung low as you nod, allowing your head to fall back against his shoulder.

“y-yes, i want it, papi,” you cry out, your smaller frame jutting forward with each thrust that clapped against your poked out ass.

the moment rafe filled you with his cum for the second time within the last 24 hours, you became so cum-drunk that the thought of rafe fucking his kid into you, just didn’t seem all that bad. and shit, if rafe was being completely honest — his goal was to have you knocked up by the end of the year and donning his last name in the new year.

remaining inside of you, rafe releases your hair from his grip as he leans against the tiled shower wall, sliding his hands up and down your spine, a knowing smile tugging on his handsome mouth, “m’gonna keep it in for a bit, okay?” he decides.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

the remaining duration of your morning and part of your afternoon was spent in the sunny backyard of tannyhill, your wet and now curly hair pinned up with a kitsch hair clip, your bronze body now adorned by a silk crème colored nightgown. you laid between rafe’s spread legs, the two of you reclined in the lounger, popping random chunks of assorted fruit into your mouths as rafe laid a soft hand atop of your tummy.

letting out a sigh of content, you steal a quick glance at your empty ring finger, before staring down at your stomach, “papi … d’you think that i’ll be a good mommy — a good wife, one day?” you ask sweetly.

“i don’t see why not, y’already such a good girl for me, yeah? i think y’will be the best mommy and the best wife, mama,”

“you really think so?”

“f’course, sweetie — all i need now is y’walkin around all moody with a biiiig belly,” rafe confirms, pressing his lips to the top of your head, rubbing small circles over your stomach, “now, we jus’ gotta keep practicing til’ you’re all full, okay?”

placing your hand on top of rafe’s you fiddle with his gold signet ring, “okay,” you smile, your doe eyes sparkling with hope that maybe, just maybe there would be a little baby in your stomach.

#asks #anon #obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x reader #obx imagine #rafe cameron smut #sweetheart!reader

1K notes · View notes

luveline · 2 months

Note

also didn’t realise that amanda was their little baby but here’s an idea if ur up for it. amanda inherits like spencer’s smartness i guess and so when she starts spewing facts about the random-est stuff spencer’s overjoyed and then bombshells just staring at them with adoration in her eyes?? idk something really fluffy

“Shoes?” Amanda asks.

“Yeah, babe.”

“No thanks.”

You hold Amanda’s socked feet in your hands. “You need shoes to keep your feet warm.”

“I’ll have socks.”

You look past her tiny face to her father for some assistance. Spencer scratches his neck, looking absolutely exhausted, though he’s dressed sharply. You’d spent a few minutes finger curling his hair this morning before it dried, and he’s brushed them out gently, giving him a windblown look. You pretend to take a photo of him. He rolls his eyes.

“Amy,” he says lovingly, baby-voice in play as he leans over the back of the couch, “you know why you have to wear shoes?”

“Why?”

“Because growing up, your feet are very small, and very fragile. They need time to grow in proper structures, and they can’t do that if you don’t wear shoes when you’re walking a lot.” He gives her shoulder a rub. “Don’t you wanna match me and mommy?”

“You wear shoes… different. Mom has heels,” she insists.

“What if I wear flats?” you ask, eager to leave the house before afternoon.

She shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest with a Spencer style pout.

Spencer sits down next to her with a sigh. You’re both aware of how smart she is for her age, and while it can be interesting, it’s also made some stuff so, so hard. Like explaining shoes. “I’m not want to wear them. It’s good for my skin to breathe.” All her r’s sound soft, like w’s.

You rub your eyes. Spencer sucks in an excited breath. “Yes! Skin can’t really breathe, but it’s good to have it uncovered sometimes to help your circulation and your pores.”

“‘Xactly,” Amy says.

“And, you know, shoes that don’t fit right force your feet into narrow positions, which can cause a whole bunch of problems.”

“No shoes,” Amy says.

“But…” Spencer backtracks, thumbing under her eyelashes gently. “If you don’t wear your shoes, we can’t go out to the store for groceries and we can’t go to the bakery on the way home. Which means you won’t get your sugar donuts, mommy won’t get her slice of cake, and that’s gonna make me so sad.”

“Why?”

“Because I love when your mom is happy. It makes me happy when she’s happy. She doesn’t look very happy now, does she?”

In all honesty, you’re much too pretty to be sitting on the floor, tights to the carpeting and your cute black dress bunching up your thighs. You refuse to close yourself into the ‘mom’ box some may expect of you, dressing as you had before you became a mom, but you’ve allowed Amanda the opportunity to choose your necklace; a gold pendant ring with green and pink sapphires. It’s gorgeous, colourful, and doesn’t even slightly go with your outfit. Spencer reaches for it now, tugging it straight carefully against your neck.

You frown deeply, pulling your widest, softest doe eyes. “Please, lovely girl, put your shoes on. Or I’m gonna have to be strict, and I hate being strict.”

“Don’t fw-own, mommy,” she says, listing into Spencer’s side, “you’ll get wrinkles. Worse wrinkles, ‘cos your muscles remember.”

And again, all her r’s are w’s, her pronunciation lispy and sweet despite her amazing expertise. Spencer laughs and takes her face into two hands, kissing “Wow, smarty pants,” into her crown. “You’re so smart! I can’t believe it!”

You feel your annoyance softening. Fine, she’s a smarty pants, and you secretly love it so so much. You’ll just have to carry her to the car. Or her genius dad can carry her. Actually, that could be great, Spencer’s never looked so handsome as he does carrying around your little baby, especially now he’s started working out every now and then.

“Better role your sleeves up, Spence,” you say, standing up off of your knees. “I’m keeping my heels on. Daddy’s gonna carry you, and you’re gonna get wonky feet.”

“That’s fine,” Spencer says to her in a whisper, “I’ll carry you forever if you want me to, even if you do get all wonky, bubby.”

Amy preens as she wraps her arms around him and he picks her up. He takes her shoes from your hand without her seeing.

“Isn’t she amazing?” he mouths, and he means it, his eyes wide with it.

“She’s gonna protest socks, next, Spencer Reid, and then what are you gonna do?” you ask. You aren’t half as concerned as you’re pretending to be. Amy’s a baby. She’ll learn how important shoes are soon enough.

“I’m gonna hold her in my coat, like this,” he says, pulling his coat over her legs.

“Like that,” you say to yourself, grinning. “Okay, you two do what you want. Can we go now? We really need to get some groceries.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

formulamoons · 6 days

Text

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ when we are together

| Charles Leclerc x female reader

Content warning(s): FLUFF eventual smut 18+ mdni, mutual pinning, friends to lovers, unprotected sex, english is not my first language.

Summary- It took quite some time for you and Charles to realize that you were truly meant to be together.

word count 4.7k it's a bit long, but I swear it's worth it.

Charles Leclerc has the most captivating eyes you’ve ever seen. Sometimes, they shimmer with a beautiful shade of green, flecked with honey, and at other times, they resemble the majestic blue of Niagara Falls. Regardless of their hue, you find yourself captivated, able to admire them for hours, even days, lost in their beauty.

You first met Charles back in 2014, on a rainy Thursday night. He and his friends burst into your favorite café, shattering the serene quiet with their adolescent banter and laughter. Amid the lively chaos, Charles seemed to glow with an infectious vitality, his face perpetually adorned with a radiant grin.

Unfortunately for you, the café was unusually crowded that evening, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise when his pair of striking eyes met yours for the first time ever. "Sorry, would you mind sharing your table with us?" he asked, his voice as captivating as his gaze.

"Of course not, please sit," you heard yourself say, scooting to the corner to make room for them.

"Do you play?" one of his friends asked, displaying the Uno cards they had brought along.

"Uh, not really," you replied softly, fingers tracing the pendant of your necklace. Despite your attempt to remain composed, the sudden surge of energy around you left you feeling somewhat overwhelmed. The calm ambiance you had been enjoying was swiftly replaced by an unbridled liveliness, making you feel strangely diminutive in comparison.

"Give it a try, I swear it's super fun," he urged, his enthusiasm always infectious to everyone around. Little did you know that simple invitation marked the beginning of years where you found yourself incapable of saying no to him.

That night, you discovered that Charles Leclerc was fiercely competitive, his energy palpable as he fussed around his seat, grimacing and sighing whenever he was losing, and occasionally even letting out a scream directed at his friends—but never at you. You also realized that you both attended the same school yet had never crossed paths before. This was likely because you spent all your free time in the library, while he was always engaged in lively conversations with anyone who would listen.

Even though you hadn't actively sought out Charles's friendship, he made it his mission to befriend you. He would flash you a warm smile and wave at you in the school hallways, trailing behind you as he yapped on about karting and racing. He even accompanied you to the library (although he often ended up falling asleep, it still counted!). And on top of all that, he would walk you home after school, casually mentioning that his house was in the same direction, so he might as well accompany you.

2016

It became challenging when Charles left school to focus on his racing career. Despite this, he still crashed at your house most of the time, practically becoming a permanent fixture there. Your mom now prepared meals for five instead of four, often shooting you suggestive glances whenever Charles would praise your intelligence and express his desire to spend more time with you now that he couldn’t see you at school anymore.

Even your dad and brother had grown accustomed to his presence in your home, to the point where Charles would sometimes inadvertently spend more time with them than with you, getting caught up in their lively discussions about races airing on TV.

"You like them more, admit it," you tease, poking his cheek on a casual Friday evening while the two of you lay in the grass of your favorite park. It was the middle of spring, and he had suggested going for a run, but after the first two kilometers, your lungs and legs had given out, screaming for a break.

"I don't," he says, gently catching your wrist, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "But they let me talk about racing as long as I want," his fingers trace the delicate lines of your knuckles and veins.

"I let you talk about racing all the time, even though I don't understand half of what you're saying," you pout at him, your voice softening with affection.

It's true. Ever since you were seventeen, you've let him chatter on about racing endlessly. Even back then, when you didn't understand a single thing about it and resorted to googling terms like 'rear wing' and ' suspension' at night, you still listened intently. Because seeing his eyes light up with passion, cheeks flushed, and a wide smile on his face was worth it all. You loved watching him talk about racing.

"Fair enough, mon ange. You're my favorite, you always have been and always will be, happy?" he says teasingly, grinning at you before pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

"No," your pout deepens, and he can't help but let out a chuckle. You're adorable, he thinks

"What can I do for you to forgive me?" he asks, his gaze locking with yours. You're not sure if he's aware of the power his eyes hold over you, their deep blue hue pulling you in, inviting you to lose yourself in their depths.

"Carry me back?" you jest, reaching out to him with a mischievous grin. He laughs, but obligingly stands up and turns around, offering his back for you to climb onto.

2017

You certainly understand the meaning of "suspension" now, but you wish you never had to. If you thought Charles leaving school was tough, you never imagined the agony of not seeing him for weeks. You had grown so accustomed to his presence that now, in his absence, you feel empty, as if a piece of you is missing.

On the other hand, if someone were to ask your mom, she'd likely tell you that you're overreacting. After all, you talk to Charles every single day through every imaginable form of communication—texts, calls, emails, social media posts comments, even postcards. You name it, and the two of you have probably already covered it. She's actually impressed that you two haven't resorted to smoke signals yet.

Either way, she drives you to the airport on the day he's coming back. She stands next to Pascale, just a few steps away from where you are, surrounded by his brothers.

"Thought one of them would have confessed by now," Pascale whispers to your mom as they watch you tease Arthur alongside Lorenzo.

"I thought they’d be dating by now," your mom snorts, and Pascale joins her in a laugh.

It’s as if your body is possessed the moment, you see him step through the doors. Your legs carry you forward at full speed, drawn to the sight of his messy hair, tired eyes, and familiar hoodie. He notices you just in time, catching you in his arms, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you in place.

"Miss me that much, ange?" he teases.

"Shut up," you retort, and he falls silent, savoring the way your legs wrap around his waist and your arms encircle his neck, pulling him closer. He buries his face in your neck, inhaling deeply, letting your scent envelop his senses.

"I did miss you," he whispers into your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. "I'm signing with Sauber, but don’t overreact—I haven't even told my mom yet. I wanted you to be the first to know."

His breath brushes against your neck, and you have to summon all of your strength not to let out a squeal. Instead, you tighten your hold and whisper back to him, “So proud of you, cœur,” your feet touching the ground again. With a final smile, you release him, allowing him to reunite with his family.

2019

Ferrari's garage buzzes with precision as the final details for the Monza GP are attended to. You weave through the crowd filling the Ferrari lounge, your family already dispersed, likely exploring, and soaking in the pre-race excitement.

"Where's your mom?" you call out, raising your voice to be heard over the noise once you spot Arthur. "I haven't seen her yet, and it's about to start."

Although this isn't your first time attending a Grand Prix, it's the first with such a massive crowd. Normally, it's just you, Charles' family, and occasionally Seb's wife. You've never experienced this level of hustle and bustle before. It's a bit overwhelming, but you'll manage—for Charles.

“Didn't he tell you?" Arthur asks, puzzled, as you respond with a questioning look. "Mom’s in the grandstands. He couldn't get her a paddock pass."

"Unbelievable," you mutter under your breath. "Is he still in his driver’s room?" you ask. Arthur nods, grinning as he already anticipates what's about to happen next.

You make your way to Charles driver’s room in what you can say is the fastest walk you have achieved in your life.

“Leclerc” you say in a stern tone of voice knocking at the door of the room.

He opens the door, taking you by the wrist to pull you in before closing it behind you. He already knows why you're here, but a playful smile spreads across his face at the sight of your annoyed expression.

"Arthur is such a gossip," he says, his tone teasing. You resist the urge to slap him, recognizing that playful tone he always uses when you’re annoyed. He enjoys it—he really does. You look so cute when you're angry, with your hands on your hips and your mouth twisted in a grimace.

"You let your mom sit alone in the grandstands," you nearly scream, and he looks at you, guilt written all over his face.

"She decided to come too late," he tries to explain, already aware it won't help his case. "I was out of paddock passes by then."

"I could have given her mine," you interrupt, and he smiles adorably at you. Of course, you would have given yours to his mom. You were probably her favorite, even above her three children.

"I'm going to sit with her," you declare firmly, the smile on his face morphing into a mischievous grin as he reaches for a piece of paper from one of his drawers and hands it to you.

Charles Leclerc knows you all too well, always a step ahead, as if he can read your mind and predict your every move and decision before you even make it. It used to be unsettling, but now it's like second nature.

"Cheer for me, ange," he says, handing you the GP ticket for the seat next to his mom.

He walks you to the exit of the Ferrari motorhome, kissing your forehead before reluctantly letting you go, only after you assure him that you won’t make it to your seat on time if he doesn’t release you quickly. He stands there, watching you walk towards the paddock access, turning around to give him a small wave before disappearing from his sight.

"Is that your girlfriend?" Seb asks, observing the dreamy smile on his face.

"I wish," he murmurs wistfully.

2022

On your twenty-fifth birthday, you find yourself grappling with a quarter-life crisis like any other twenty-something human in the world. No one can say a single thing to you, whether good or bad, without potentially bringing you to tears. It's as if no words seem capable of consoling you.

So, seeing your fragile state, you decide not to celebrate your birthday this year—a decision you come to regret the day before your birthday when you attempt to arrange a small dinner with your loved ones, only to discover that they have already made plans. While you understand their commitments, it doesn't prevent you from breaking down in tears at Charles's apartment, clinging to one of his blankets as you indulge in birthday pancakes, he's prepared for you.

"Please, ange, don't cry. You're breaking my heart," he murmurs softly as he gently wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumb. "We can still plan something for tomorrow. My brothers will be free, and my mom would cancel anything for you. Your family has already said yes," he suggests, trying to lift your spirits with solutions.

"It's just not the same. My birthday is today," you whine, pushing the empty plate aside before snuggling closer to Charles's side.

"What about we celebrate just you and me? How does that sound?" he suggests, but you only bury your face further into his side. "We can go have dinner at that restaurant you love, the one with the plants hanging from the ceiling."

He senses your thoughts as your whimpers die down, and you peek one eye out from his shirt. "Can we get gelato too?"

"Yes, of course! Whatever you want, Ange," he agrees, gently removing the strands of hair that cover your face.

After catching a few episodes of Bridgerton, you head out from his place, planning to shower and get ready back at your own spot for the dinner ahead. There's a promise to reunite later, this time at your apartment.

He stands outside your door, holding a small box between his hands, playing with the corners of the envelope. It's your gift, meticulously chosen to be perfect for you, the only one that always takes him a lot of time to select. As you open the door, he admires one of his favorite dresses of yours, a stunning green shade that makes your skin glow.

You finish putting on your earrings, giving him an apologetic look for the lateness. "I just need to put perfume on, and I'll be ready."

He nods and watches you step inside your room, leaving him alone in the living room. His eyes wander over your walls adorned with pictures of you and your family, a few with friends you've made over the years. But his gaze always returns to the picture standing above your fireplace—a moment captured where he's holding you close, hand at your waist and the other at your head, bringing you in for a kiss on the cheek. You have a playful look on your face, but he remembers the joyous laughter that followed, the day he realized he was in love with you.

“Shall we go?” you ask bringing him out of his daydreams.

“Actually, I was going to ask you to open my gift first” he handles you the box his fingers brushing yours. “You need to read the paper first” he says, and you nod unfolding the paper sheet attached to the box.

He seizes the moment to admire you, your beautiful, expressive eyes focused intently on the paper while your pink, rosy lips nibble with concentration. God, he just wants to cup your face in his hands and taste them, a desire he's harbored for years now. He wonders how much longer he can resist.

"You bought me a star," you say, catching him off guard. He only nods, momentarily unable to trust his voice.

"Look inside the box," he finally manages to say, urging you to open it.

Inside the box lies a delicate silver star necklace. You take a moment to admire it before carefully lifting it out, holding it between your fingers to inspect it. That's when you notice two sets of dates engraved on the back.

"The day the star was born and its coordinates," he explains. "May I?" You nod, allowing him to fasten the necklace around your neck. His warm fingers against your skin feel comforting, and once he's finished, he takes a moment to admire how it rests against your chest.

"The reservation," you choke out, your mind foggy after being under his gaze for so long.

Of course, Charles had orchestrated a surprise birthday dinner with all your closest friends and family, despite your decision to cancel all birthday celebrations. As the evening unfolded, you found yourself stealing glances at him more and more frequently. He sat beside you, his hand resting on your thigh, and suddenly, the weight of the necklace around your neck felt heavier as the realization dawned upon you: you were in love with Charles Leclerc.

2023- December

Your friends were on the brink of insanity (more so than usual). The tension had reached new heights throughout the year, yet neither of you seemed to grasp the obvious.

Joris was tempted to dive off the yacht every time Charles not-so-subtly stole a glance at your ass, or vice versa. Meanwhile, Andrea found himself uncomfortably caught between your flirtatious gazes and the prolonged silences that followed. And as for your moms, they were simply tired of arriving at your houses only to find the two of you cuddled up together on the couch, fast asleep.

And yet, every time someone dared to ask, "Are you two more than friends?" The response was always a dismissive, "We're just friends." you brushed off any insinuation, insisting it was all normal behavior. But with each passing moment, it became increasingly evident that you were simply avoiding the truth.

God, please have mercy on them.

2024 – May, 26

After the celebrations subsided and the echoes of sobs and cheers faded into the night, you found yourselves back in Charles' home, seated beside him on the familiar comfort of his couch.

In the soft glow of a small desk lamp, the two of you sat in silence, each lost in your own thoughts. Tears stained your cheeks, remnants of the emotional rollercoaster of the day, while Charles' face was cleansed, washed free of any traces of tears.

“I won” he murmurs softly.

“You won” you echo, your voices intertwining in the quiet of the room. "Are you heading out to celebrate?" you inquire, twirling your pasta absentmindedly.

"Yeah, I think so. Do you want to come with me?" he asks, his eyes hopeful, like a puppy waiting for you to accept.

"Only because it's Monaco," you reply playfully, rising from your seat and reaching for his empty plate.

He shadows your every move, a constant presence since the day he first met you. He stands by your side as you rinse the dishes and load them into the dishwasher.

"I know you want to do it, just go for it," you encourage him. And with those words, he begins to recount every detail of his race, starting from the very beginning. He recall the morning when he woke up to breakfast with you, his mom, and his brothers, though he conveniently leaves out the part about how breathtaking you looked in just a tank top and shorts.

You lean against the kitchen island, watching him talk, and memories flood back of all the times you've been in this exact position. Charles has evolved over the years—his looks have changed, and he has matured in many ways. Yet, whenever he talks about racing with you, he reverts to being your Charles, brimming with passion and a light bright enough to illuminate the entire world.

You’re well aware this isn’t the first time you’ve noticed, but Charles Leclerc has the most captivating eyes you've ever seen. Sometimes, they shimmer with a beautiful shade of green flecked with honey; at other times, they resemble the majestic blue of Niagara Falls. Regardless of their hue, you find yourself utterly mesmerized, able to admire them for hours, even days, lost in their beauty.

He makes you feel valued, seen, safe, and adored. You must have been staring at him for a while because he looks at you with a curious expression, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "You, okay?" he asks.

You can't resist anymore; you're done holding back. The next thing you know, your hands are gripping the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards you. Rising onto the balls of your feet, you meet his lips for the first time. He tastes of champagne and chocolate, so sweet and intoxicating that it’s instantly addictive.

There's something undeniably magical about kissing Charles Leclerc. Perhaps it's because it's your first time kissing each other after a long time of yearning, but it's mostly the way he kisses you—tenderly, frigid at the edges and with such care. It transports you back to high school, where every love felt like an explosion of giggles and butterflies in your stomach.

The tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to suffocate you both after you parted ways. Charles's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, his breath coming unevenly.

When you opened your eyes, you saw his cheeks flushed with a radiant pink, his eyes wide with surprise. Normally, you would have teased him for being so flustered, but a quick glance at his slightly parted lips made you cringe inwardly.

"Sorry," you offered weakly, your voice barely above a whisper as you attempted to escape the kitchen. However, his arms rested on the kitchen island, trapping you in place.

"Again," he said, almost breathless. "You caught me off guard." He swallowed hard, his nose now mere inches from yours. "I didn’t do it right. Please, let me try again."

And who are you to deny him? You lean in, pressing your lips to his once more. This time, he isn't caught off guard. He steps closer, pulling you in tightly. The tips of your noses brush together, and you feel his hands slide to the back of your thighs, lifting you effortlessly to sit you on the kitchen island. He gently opens your legs and steps between them.

You gently push him back, whispering, "Wait," as you step off the island. His eyes widen with concern.

"Did I do something wrong?" You shake your head, offering a sheepish smile.

"No, not at all," you assure him. "Let's go to your room." He follows you without hesitation.

Charles short-circuits for a moment, watching you sit down on his bed. Sensing his hesitation, you stretch out a hand, pulling him closer. As he bends in front of you, you catch his lips with yours once more. He only needs a second before he regains control, responding with fervor, his movements sure and confident.

“God, you are so pretty, I can't think straight,” he murmurs. You open your mouth to mock him, but he interrupts, parting your legs with his knees before kneeling between them.

“So pretty,” he repeats, his voice low and reverent, as he massages your bare thighs with tender, his hands slipping under your skirt hiking the material higher “fuck beautiful you are so wet” his fingers graze your soaking panties, drawing a gasp out of you, lithe fingers rubbing and pitching your clit through the thin fabric.

“Fuck” you whisper under your breath “Charles please.” Seeing you grow purely frustrated was utterly amusing to him. The way your eyebrows curl and furrow, jaw slightly tensing.

“Tell me what you want” he commands, kissing all over your inner thighs. moving a thumb to press in between your folds against your panties.

After that his kisses got closer to where you craved him kissing at the outskirts of your panties, moving to lay the flat of his tongue against your clothed pussy just to feel you twitch under him.

“Charles please, need you to— eat me out” you huff out in a short singular breath. He lifted his head and began to peel your panties off of you sliding them all the way down your legs using his mouth.

“Whatever you want Ange” he says in a low gruff. The moment he finally hovers his mouth over your sopping clit Charles gently strokes a thumb up and down opening you up to slowly create a single lick to make you whimper.

One taste and he was hooked, you tasted so fucking sweet on his tongue he was pushing forward tongue-first and nose- deep into you occasionally prod against your entrance. You slumped back against the bed, trying not to close your legs at him at this point.

“God, ange, you taste so good," he murmurs, his breath hot against your folds. Just when you thought your situation couldn't get any more intense, he starts speaking into your pussy proving you wrong.

The room filled with the sounds of your overzealous moans and the noises Charles tongue made, sliding his tongue between your folds, sucking and nibbling “Look at her” he breathes broken away from your cunt, watching the way you twitch for him to return his tongue to you. “How’s it feels, ange?” You stare at him mesmerized as he spit on your pussy legs squirming a bit.

“Good” you gulp nearly choking on your own saliva.

“Uhm just good?” his gaze flicks up to you. Catching you with such an expression of pure needs, His eyes hungry on yours as he tips his head to the side “talk to me pretty girl.” He’d tease, bringing a long suck towards your clit. You let off a moan once he playfully nibbles near that particular spot with his teeth.

Your lip’s part and a breathy sigh escapes you “please” your voice almost gone.

“Can’t hear you amour” he takes two fingers and presses them against your pussy lips before spreading them apart glancing down a pretty cobweb of his own spits and nice wad onto your pussy

“Please Charles” Charles gives your cunt a sweet little kiss and he feels it start to hastily pulse from it. He knew you were getting close. “don’t be mean please.”

He looks innocently at you one finger finally starting to sink deep into you watching the way your cunt greedily swallows it. He lets out some breathy little sound as he slips a second finger into you, slow against your walls sliding in and out watching the sheer coat of your taste gather along his fingers.

Your back arches up off the bed as his fingers curl upward against your walls, feeling the way you squeeze around him “Charles I am gonna..I” his fingers increase in speed looking up at you while latching his lips to your clit again.

Charles swears you are the most perfect thing to ever grace his presence- head thrown back, eyes glossy moan after moan of his name leaving your bitten lips, and pussy making the obscenest sound every time he slides his fingers in you.

“Yeah baby, there you go, you are s’close, c’mon ange give it to me” he utters softly, tongue slipping out to swirl around your clit “Lay it on me.”

His tongue darts around to the left of your clit and you’re moving your hand down to his hair to pull him closer “Cha-Cha…. too much, ah please,” you cry as your eyes meet his and you watch his pink tongue flick up and down over your clit. He’s so fucking messy and it’s driving you over the edge.

“Cum f’me- cum ange” and there you are. Gasping, sputtering as he drags the orgasm out of you. Your head tosses back, and he continues to stroke you through it. “That’s my girl you look so fuckin’ pretty messin’ my fingers.”

Hand departing from your pussy while you lay there panting, his body lifting and fingers dropping to get his pants off “Not done with you yet. I've been waiting to fuck you forever," he murmurs.

"You're going to miss the party," you gasp between heavy breaths, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“I’ll be quick” Any counterargument you might have had is swiftly cut off by Charles cock pressing in between your warm folds.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅

You arrive fashionably late at the party, almost surprised you made it at all. Charles's arm wraps snugly around your waist, his murmurs tickling your ear from time to time. Lorenzo shoots you a knowing grin from across the club, raising his glass in a silent toast, and you can't help but feel a flush of warmth spread through you.

"Finally grew the balls to confess," one of Charles's friends pats his back, and you chuckle, holding your cup between your lips.

He gazes at you in awe, taking the cup from your lips and replacing it with his own, planting a kiss on your nose before pulling away. "She kissed me first, for your information. Couldn't resist my charm," he says proudly to his friend, and you gasp indignantly.

The night ends in the blink of an eye, but as you wake up curled up in Charles's arms, you couldn't be happier. Gazing at his peaceful slumber, you admire the contours of his beautiful face, tracing each line with your finger.

"A picture would last longer," he says with a hoarse voice, eyes still closed as he pulls you closer.

"Ah, cockiness doesn't suit you, cœur," you tease, burying your face in his chest, which rumbles with a steady laugh before you both drift back to sleep.

Formulamoons, please do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend my content outside of Tumblr.

1K notes · View notes

saintels · 1 year

Text

✮ ┆dessert. ethan landry

— addicted to your taste, ethan desperately needs to fix his sweet tooth. drabble

warnings female reader, cunnilingus, semi-public, oral (female recieving), use of ‘cunt’ 426 words

navigation

YOU HAD DRAWN BLOOD. Your bottom lip swelled and pulsed under the stress of the white bone, surfacing blotches of red underneath your glassy Fenty lipgloss.

Your parents were beyond thrilled when you announced the news that you were bringing home a boy for the holidays, let alone the personification of a puppy dog.

Regardless of his excitement to meet your family, staying in your parent’s house came with its downsides. Going home for the holidays meant spending time with your family. Spending time with your family meant no privacy and no privacy meant less time Ethan could spend with his face stuffed in your cunt just as he was at that very moment.

He could not be deeper if he tried, nose nudging your swollen clit as his tongue lapped at your soaked walls.

Dress bunched above your belly button and your leg hiked over his shoulder, Ethan knelt on the bathroom floor as you gripped the marble basin of your Aunt’s guest bathroom.

You laced your fingers through his messy curls, not a single care in the world if the ring on your finger that he bought you for your birthday got tangled as your nails scratched at his scalp and gripped his hair in a bunch.

The accidental tug of his locks elicited the rumble of a moan from his throat, the sound’s vibrations tickling your centre.

“Fuck,” your hips jerk forward to grind against his mouth, his smooth tongue flicking your clit and dragging it in between his lips.

Staring at the clock on the wall, you winced. 9:22pm. You knew for a fact desert was brought out seven minutes ago.

“Ethan,” you whisper, voice husky, “we need to go- fuck!”.

Ethan never meets your gaze, too focused on the sweet taste of your juices on his tastebuds. His favourite dessert.

You became dizzy at the squelch of his long fingers sliding into your hole, coaxing you closer to your orgasm. With one final stroke of his tongue flattened on your cunt, you gush on his mouth. He looks up at you; full lips coated with a thick layer of the silky, sweet substance.

As he stands, your white dress drops to its normal position above your knees.

A florid blush paints his soft cheeks, his nose nudging yours as he kisses your lips gently.

“Do you not understand what the word ‘behave’ means?”

Your scolding has his face hiding in your neck, kissing over the gold ‘E’ pendant that hangs in the cove of your décolletage.

“ i’m sorry,” he mumbles, hands on your waist, “was sick of waiting for dessert.”

#┆ 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒂 ❀#Scream 6 #Ethan Landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry smut #Scream VI #Scream smut #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x you #ethan landry scream 6 #jack champion #smut

5K notes · View notes

notanactressyayy · 3 months

Text

—𝐰𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞—

pairing. ex! Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader

summary. in a day you simply wanted peace, two unexpected visitors showed up. for one of them, you were glad.

warnings. smut! I am NOT responsible for your content consumption! — making out, thigh riding, strap on usage, cursing, angst (w happy ending), soft dom Nat.

notes. my first language is portuguese, so I apologize for any grammar errors. feel free to give me advice, though!

divider credits: @cafekitsune ★

Natasha Romanoff was known as a cold, ruthless woman, who never cared for anyone besides herself. Most of the people didn't know this was due her past — the Red Room was always in complete secrecy, so they feared her. She was already used to it. Whenever she started something with someone, in the next day, she had an empty bed as a gift. To be completely honest, she always felt used. Men and women touched her, to leave her in the morning.

That changed when she met you.

You could say you'd changed her completely, for the best, of course. She became more open with you, learned to express herself better and was not known as the most selfish Avenger in the team anymore.

But just like people say, not everything is a bed of roses.

Instead of using that achievement to improve your relationship, she began to care a little too much about her team of superheroes. At some point, she was no longer paying attention to you.

Reports this, reports that. Missions and more missions. "I have to go somewhere with Cap." "I have to train with Tony to a mission." "I can't, I'll have to go with Clint."

When you confronted her about this, begging for her to understand and willing to help her change, she decided that it was a better option to part ways. You were devasted, and she saw it. That made her heart ache — someone actually lov— liked her enough to want to stay.

This was the one and only reason Natasha didn't forget about you. The only reason she thought about you everyday. The only reason she teared up whenever entering her car and seeing the polaroid with the heart pendant you gave her hanging on her rearview mirror, that she didn't dare to take down.

Today, you were leaving work, heavy tired steps echoing on the pavement's wooden floor as the moonlight illuminated the room. The building was already empty, the streets, darker than your thoughts.

As you started walking to the nearest bus stop, you heard quick footsteps behind you — it was already late and usually there was no people on the streets like this. You turned your head, "you gotta be kidding me".

"Hey, Y/n!" Peter exclaimed, running to catch up with you. "I didn't know you were going to be here at 11:30pm."

You rolled your eyes and took a sharp inhale, but like always, tried to be polite. This so called coworker of yours was always looking at you, following you everywhere, and asking you things, not always work-related. You always made it clear that you weren't interested in men, and he insisted on saying he could 'change your mind'.

"Hey, Peter." you replied, faking a smile and nodding. "You need me to review your documents again?"

"Oh, no. I was just wondering if you wanna go on a date with me. Did you see the restaurant that just opened over there? I could treat you to—"

"No, I don't." you cut him off, more harshly than you intended to. "Look, Peter, I'm sorry. But I don't want anything to do with you, alright? So if you want, go ahead and find somebody else."

You shook your head, not even waiting for his reply and picking up the pace again, quickly rushing to the bus stop. That's when the guy showed you a side that you just suspected, but preferred to believe he didn't have

"C'mon, Y/n." he grabbed your arm, nails digging into your skin. "You won't broke my heart, will you? You're such a gentle, beautiful, kind woman. You will give me a chance."

You cleared your throat, feeling him get closer, and thinking about a certain Red Head — how she would gently, delicately graze your skin with her fingers, so softly whispering into your ear and bringing you to her embrace—

"Back off."

"Oh, no." he laughed. Such a creep. "I won't back off. And if you don't cooperate, I'll make you give me a chance."

Your hands trembled now, silently praying to whoever was seeing this just call the cops or do something. You didn't know the guy anyway. He didn't talk to anyone at work beside you, and you never got to know him, you would never. That's when it would be a good use to have a spy girlfriend. Just the last thing you expected to happen was to hear the sound of a gun cocking behind you, and a very familiar female voice.

"She said back off."

Relief unconsciously washed upon you as your arm was released, only because of the gun, though. You knew that if if wasn't for her, who knows what could've happened there. Peter left, annoyed, but the Russian swore to herself that she'd make his life a living hell.

"... Natasha?" you whisper, turning around with a confused and even scared frown.

"Yes," she worriedly rubbed your arm, shooting you, slowly making the feeling of the disgusting hand fade away. "Are you okay?"

"I am..." you nodded subtly, leaning into her touch. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I saw a woman being harassed. What was I supposed to do? Mind my business?" she said, obviously avoiding your question.

"You know this is not what I mean." you frowned, carefully letting go of her caress and wrapping your arms around yourself.

Natasha sighed, trying to think of a way to explain herself. 'Oh, I'm here because I miss you so much I can't even sleep anymore.'? No, it wouldn't do.

"I... followed you."

"Oh, great, so I'm being stalked twice today." you hissed, making Natasha look down with your harshness.

"No, Y/n.. I'm here for.. personal reasons. I saw you leaving work, and I noticed that guy following you. I decided to follow too, until he grabbed you and I knew I had to intervine." she explained quietly.

The fact she had said 'personal reasons' deeply hurt you, but you couldn't do anything, you had broken up after all. You nodded, and prepared yourself to walk tp the bus stop again.

"Wait," Natasha quickly stopped you, her eyebrows furrowed. "I won't let you go home like this."

This was something about the old Natasha you knew, the protective one. It was okay, you were tired, and a ride would be no harm. "Where's your getaway car?"

She smiled softly at your joke, and tilted her head. "Around the corner."

You two walked silently towards the vehicle, as she unlocked the doors with the keys and you entered the passenger seat. You threw your bag on the backseat before you could focus on the environment around you, and see the polaroid of you and Nat with the heart pendant you gave her hanging on the rearview mirror.

Natasha noticed your gaze as soon as she entered the driver seat, clearing her throat and starting the car's engine. "Couldn't bring myself to take those down."

You stayed silent, but your eyes could tell everything. I'm glad. Oh, I'm so glad.

Natasha remembered your address as if you hadn't broken up nine months ago, and when you reached your place, you too much disappointed for your own good.

"Thank you for the lift," you whispered, turning your body to be able to grab your bag from the backseat — in the exact same moment Natasha turned to unbuckle her seatbelt — your fronts touching, which made you two a little startled.

The problem was that you didn't pull away, neither of you. You slowly turned your head to meet Natasha's gaze, your face so close to hers you could feel her breath. Familiar. It was pure instinct, almost muscle memory, of the times she always kissed you goodbye when dropping you somewhere.

You didn't even notice your hand going up to hold the back of her neck, much less when she placed her hand on your thigh, and leaned in so your noses brushed. Natasha closed her eyes for a brief moment, almost savouring your closeness, your aura enveloping her once more. Then your lips barely, barely grazed, breath hitching, as she couldn't take it anymore.

The redhead pressed her lips against yours, giving them a long peck. It was surprising how much time you lasted without air. You didn't break the kiss, just darted the tip of your tongue out to lick her bottom lip, begging for entrance. She gave in, trying to pull you closer but being stopped by the goddamn control panel. As soon as you felt her tongue touching yours you realized that this was going too far. You pulled back harshly, leaving you two panting for air and a disappointed Nat.

"Do you..." you shakily breathed. "... wanna come in?"

"Mhm." Natasha hummed, turning off the engine. "Can I?"

You didn't answer, just opened the door and slipped out the car. As you entered, you could practically feel Natasha's eyes burning the place. How you didn't take down any picture of yours. How her stuff was spreading across the pavement. It gave her a sense of... hope? Of course, since she was in the same situation.

"So.. are you seeing anyone?" you asked her while kicking off your heels and leaving them by the door.

"I think you know the answer for that." the redhead practically hissed, making your head snap towards her.

"But I want you to say it." you retreated. "I want you to look at me in the eyes and tell me you didn't forget me. I want you to look at me in the eyes and tell me the reason of why you came to my town again and followed me when I left work. I want you to tell me the reason of why you kissed me just like we always did before."

"I didn't! I didn't forget you, Y/n!" Natasha snapped, looking away and tucking the loosen strands of hair of her braids behind her ears. "I didn't forget you and I never did. Alright? Happy now?"

"Is that so?" you laughed humorlessly, crossing your arms. "I thought you cared more about your superheroes buddies. Where are they now!?"

"I left them." Natasha replied, looking at you again with a mixture of anger and pain. "I left them and came back, to you, Y/n."

You froze at her words, swallowing your saliva. "... okay?"

"I came back here, because I wanted to at least a chance to explain myself. I wouldn't be able to live knowing that I hurt you, and that you think that I did it on purpose. So please, just give me a chance."

"...go on."

Natasha sighed in relief, exhaling the air she was holding. "I'm sure you know my story. You were the first one to know everything about it, about me. And I'm also sure you know you're the first one to ever love me. No one else ever loved me like you did."

You leaned against the kitchen counter, listening carefully to her words, ready to give her time and patience, like you usually did.

"... I didn't know what I was doing, Y/n. Every other relationship I had, ended in less than a week. Love is a weapon and it's letal for me, for people like me. I was, I am startled by all of this, by this fuzzy warm feeling that you always gave me, that you still do, in my thoughts.. the Avengers were my first family, and when I panicked, I tried to hang on to them. In order not to hurt you, and myself." she didn't even realize the tear rolling down her cheek, and shook her head. "That's it. I'm sorry for everything, but Y/n, you will always have a piece— you'll always have my whole heart in your hands. I'll get off your hair n—"

You couldn't. Not anymore. You rushed towards her and grabbed her face, cutting her off with a deep kiss. She was taking aback, but her hands traveled to your waist, pulling you flush against her, your fronts pressing. Nothing changed. Natasha pushed you backwards against your room's door, her tongue entering your mouth and dancing with yours. You could feel yourself getting lost in her, damn it, once more. It was like she had this spell on you — you were trapped, and didn't complain.

"Y/n," the russian uttered, hands slipping inside your shirt and giving your waist a squeeze. "I've got to have you again, at least for one last time. Please, just this once—"

Tired of her rambling, you smirked and grabbed her by the jacket, pulling her into a kiss again and dragging her into the room, slamming the door shut. Natasha took this as a 'yes', and her hands, under you shirt, went to unclasp your bra, making it fall to the ground and a groan of relief escape your throat. Before she could remove the rest of the fabric of your body, you stopped her, pushing her down to the bed.

"I always wanted to do that," you started to slowly, so slow that it almost tortured her take off your clothes, stripteasing for her.

"Shit, Y/n." she quickly started to get rid off her jacket, snd everything else she was wearing. You were careful not to trip on the pile of clothes on the floor, and walked over to her again, straddling her leg on the edge of the bed.

Natasha's hand grabbed your hips roughly, keeping you in place and it didn't take two seconds before you started to grind on her. "Nat," you breathed, arms going to circle her neck.

"Who else touched you like this while I was away?" she growled in your ear, pressing your body against hers. "Answer me,"

"No one," you whined, giving her a subtle shake of your head. "No one, Natty. J-just myself,"

"My poor girl," Nat began to roam her hands up your sides, her lips pressing kisses on your jawline, "I'm so sorry I wasn't there to help,"

"You're here now..!" you gasped, your movements faster, as she began to move her thigh to stimulate you more.

"And I don't plan on going away," Natasha murmured, tilting your head to look at her in the eyes. Even in your high, you could make sense of her words, and the weight they beared.

"Nat!" you moaned, closing your eyes shut. "I need... please.. I—I need you, inside me."

Natasha almost lost her mind with that, grabbing your hips and pinning you down to the bed. She reached her arm out for the drawer that she hoped your strap still was, and luckily, she was right. "I'm gonna fuck you like never before, Y/n." she attached the silicone cock to her hips with urgency, holding your hips in place as she ran the tip of it across your folds, making you whine in need.

"Don't tease me," you gently gripped her arms on your hips and looked at her with dreamy eyes. She couldn't resist — but your walls were so tight she had to put a little effort to enter you.

"Holy fuck, baby." she moved her hand to brush your hair behind your ear, giving you a little time to get used to the length. "So fucking tight for me,"

"I—" you breathed, interrupted when Nat started to slowly move in and out you, her red hair falling into your face. You moaned, putting her hair up in a makeshift ponytail and with your free hand, holding her neck. "God, I missed you,"

Natasha pounded faster in you with those words, your moans only getting louder by the second. She grabbed one of your legs and placed it over her shoulder, allowing her to hit your g-spot repeatedly. You thumb went to your mouth, wetting it and starting to rub her clit — she couldn't say she expected that, her soft moans saying everything.

"Cum with me," you breathlessly requested, eyes fluttering close. Natasha didn't have to be asked twice. Her hips slammed into yours, the wet sounds of her thrusting echoing the room. "Natty!"

You back arched, head thrown backwards as your orgasm hit you. Natasha's legs shook, her weight falling onto you and your arms immediately wrapping around her, keeping her close.

"Don't make me go away,"

"I could never."

1K notes · View notes

theflowerrooms · 1 year

Note

i have request for perv!bestfriend!eddie x innocent!reader who has an oral fixation:

reader and eddie are hanging out as usual and reader’s oral fixation starts getting bad. eddie notices it and helps her out.

(sorry if this isn’t a lot to go off of, this idea came into my head and i had to request it immediately)💖💖

to request • Eddies’ Masterlist • main masterlist • part two

Swollen Lips

perv!bestfriend!Eddie Munson x innocent!reader

warnings: smut, pet names, some dark themes, oral fixation (explicit warnings below the cut)

chapter summary; you’re hanging out with your best friend Eddie and you’ve got an oral fixation, instead of letting you chew on your lip or nails, he takes matters into his own hands and helps you out <3

part two is out now :)

wordcount: 2.2k

explicit warnings: oral (m receiving), finger sucking, coercion, ball sucking, cum play? Eddie’s such a pervert guys.

Thank you for requesting!! I love writing requests so much

“Quit it.” Eddie’s voice was soft, faux annoyance as he slapped your hand away from your mouth, saving the nail of your thumb from being bitten until it bled.

Your hand dropped to your chest and found the pendant on your necklace that Eddie had gotten you for your birthday, you fiddled with that instead of chewing your nail.

Eddie watched you for a moment before returning his attention back to his notebook where he was messily writing out ideas for the next campaign. You sat next to him on his bed, legs thrown over his lap and a book in yours. His room was warm but not uncomfortable, stuffy from having his door closed, Wayne was home today.

You turned a page and read quietly, absentmindedly pulling your bottom lip into your mouth. You soaked the skin with your tongue for a while before you began actually sucking on it.

You let your soft lip drag over your teeth over and over, red and swollen your lip got, warm, only making it more satisfying to lick and bite. You weren’t even paying all that much attention to it until Eddie tsked and pulled your lip from between your teeth with his thumb on your chin.

“Gonna hurt yourself if you don’t knock it off babydoll.” He dragged his thumb over your lip and basked in the way you jutted it out further against his thumb.

“Sorry Eds.” You smiled sweetly and went back to your book. He wasn’t mad or anything, you knew. He was aware that you had a habit of sticking things in your mouth, it wasn’t ever deliberate and he thought it was beyond cute. He loved watching you suck your thumb or countless lollipops. He didn’t love watching you bite your nails raw or chew your lip till you bled, didn’t love watching you put choking hazards and breakable objects in your mouth. Although he thought it was terribly funny when you chewed your pen until blue ink exploded in your mouth.

You rested your head on his shoulder and he hummed softly, deep in his chest. It soothes you, and you didn’t notice yourself bringing the necklace’s charm to your lips. First just pressing the cool metal to your bottom lip, pouting against it.

Eddie hadn’t paid any mind to you yet this time, he’d pull it away from your mouth once he noticed, you knew. You tried staying like that, metal on the outside of your mouth rather than inside. But like it was against your will, your lips closed over the chain and your tongue rolled against the metal that was heating up from your spit.

You hummed, very content, the sound got Eddie’s attention. He looked at you with a raised brow and suddenly rolled his eyes. He hooked his left arm behind you, under your arm and pulled your necklace from your mouth, replacing it with his index and middle finger.

You were surprised a moment, looking up at him just to see he looked completely normal, so you decided it was normal and gently placed a hand on his wrist, holding him there steady and nuzzled your head into his shoulder.

His writing became even sloppier. His fingers were just resting in your mouth, heavy against your tongue. But it was enough. Warm and wet. And you had no idea that it was distracting him in the way it was, and that made it even hotter to him.

He adjusted to it after a bit, continued writing as normal. Then you had to go and shut his brain down again. Lips pressing against the bases of his fingers, tongue rolling slightly before it flattened against them. He watched your face now as your cheeks hollowed out and his breath got stuck in his throat.

He pulled his fingers back just slightly before returning them to your tongue. He pulled them back again, but this time you sucked them back, cheeks hollowing further and tongue holding him tight.

He exhaled shakily, notebook and the campaign being brought to life inside of it were forgotten beside him. He switched hands, pulling his left from your mouth and holding your neck with it instead, damp fingers dancing across the column of your throat. He watched the goosebumps cover your skin as the room’s air cooled your spit.

He didn’t waste time pressing the index and middle fingers of his right hand into your mouth, all the way until your pillow lips rested just above his knuckles. You didn’t mind, even as he could feel the slope of your tongue leading back and down your throat.

He let his hand get comfortable, thumb pressing into your jaw, pinky and marriage finger holding your face, you let him. This wasn’t just for you anymore he’d decided.

You couldn’t read your book anymore, his arm in the way and his hands taking control of how much your head could move or look around. He moved your book away for you, he was so sweet to you, so kind. He moved his legs so that yours would shift down, slide up until they were resting over his crotch. You didn’t notice the bulge in his jeans, you didn’t feel his hardened cock pressing against the backs of your thighs.

He was hot. What kind of idiot wears a black long sleeve shirt and baggy jeans in the middle of summer. What kind of idiot shoves his fingers in a mouth of which he’s jerked off to the thought of countless times. The mouth of a girl he’d been obsessed with for ages but swore to himself he’d never give into his perverse temptations.

He didn’t feel guilty. He knew what he was doing, and he knew that you didn’t know what he was doing. He probably should’ve felt some guilt, but he didn’t. He’d reflect on that later.

He slowly thrusted his fingers in and out of your mouth, watching the way you took it peacefully, head resting against his fingers holding you up. You sucked his fingers into your mouth and whined softly, contentedly, but the sound almost made him bust in his jeans.

He knew you’d like head. If you knew what head was, you’d love to give it. He’d figured that about you for ages. He thought about it a lot, you giving head. you giving him head.

Eddie, don’t. “Baby?” His voice almost shook. You hummed in question around his fingers and he felt the vibration in his wrist. He wanted it to be his cock. “How ‘bout you suck on somethin’ else, hm? Fingers are gonna get pruny real soon.” He laughed softly to cover up him almost moaning when you let his fingers go with a wet pop of your lips.

“Like what?” You looked up at him with your big wet eyes, pouty wet lips, face still resting against his hand.

He struggled to find the words, his hand fell to your thigh and squeezed. “Need you to move pretty girl, lay between my legs okay? On your tummy?” He spoke and you didn’t respond, not verbally. He almost groaned, watching you wordlessly comply, immediately moving to lay on your stomach between his thighs just like he asked. His girl, always so willing to please.

He palmed his bulge through his jeans, and you watched curiously. He loved the look on your face, wonder and curiosity, no timidness or arousal, this face he loved and molested himself to ritualistically.

He messed with his belt distractedly and unzipped his jeans, pushing them along with his boxers down past his balls. His stomach tensed when you tensed, flinching at the sight of his aching dick springing up to life.

His tip was pink and swollen, only a few inches away from your intrigued eyes. His long fingers curled around the base of his shaft, holding his cock steady. He hadn’t even gotten to say anything to you before you were wrapping your bitten lips around his head, tongue flitting against his slit.

You hummed at the taste and he groaned at both the sight and feeling. You gasped softly and pulled back wide eyes meeting his blown out ones. “Did I hurt you?” You asked with a tilt of your head, voice already filling with guilt.

He shook his head, “No, no baby.” His hand cupping your face gently, swiping a thumb over your cheek. “It just felt so good.” You watched him swallow nothing and he laced his hand in your hair, gently guiding you back. “You can keep going baby.”

Happily, you complied. Continuing on, taking his tip back into your mouth. It rested on your tongue heavier than his fingers had, you loved it. You loved the sweet, salty taste that graced your tongue as you sucker softly.

He avoided making too much noise or moving too much, he didn’t want to startle you again. But as you got more comfortable, so did he. Soft sighs falling from his mouth that made you feel a way you couldn’t understand. You hummed again around him and he couldn’t help himself, his hand tightened in your hair and his hips pushed up, forcing you to take more of his cock in your mouth.

Relaxing your throat, he pushed in a little further until you rested your hand on his thigh, a silent signal to slow down. He complied, petting your hair and whimpering softly under his breath.

Hollowing your cheeks around him, you got more used to the weight of him in your mouth, flicking your tongue over the underside of his head, having him push his hips lightly, slowly thrusting in and out of your mouth.

He was in heaven, your warm, wet, beautiful mouth around his cock, happily taking him almost all the way without a care in the world. He knew you didn’t understand the sexual nature of what you were doing, but that fact almost made it better for him. His stomach ached with flaming arousal and his toes curled behind you, hand twitching in your hair.

You swallowed around him and his hips bucked slightly, a loud gasp that broke into a whimper and he threw his head back against his pillows. He was about to cum in your mouth. “F-fuck.” He gasped as you pulled your mouth off of him, wet lips still pressed against the underside of his shaft, a loose kiss.

He took his dick in his hand, jerking it slowly. He couldn’t believe you edged him, of course you hadn’t meant to, but still it stole his breath and thoughts. “It feels good?” You asked and he nodded quickly. “This is my first time that I’ve ever seen one.” You blushed, watching him. He already knew that. He didn’t get to respond to you before you were asking another question. “Have you shown other people before?” You asked and his cock jumped in his hand. His sweet and innocent girl asking questions about the dirty things he’s done.

“Yeah, I have.” His voice was shaky, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. He didn’t miss the way you pouted, it made his stomach churn with heat. The pout wasn’t there long before you got distracted again. He’d expected another question from you.

Instead, you lowered your head and slotted your open wet mouth over his balls, sucking one of them gently into your mouth.

“Fuck! Feels good- shit, good girl.” He moaned loudly, reminding himself that Wayne was home and he had to shut up as he jerked his dick faster, an orgasm hurtling toward him.

He wasn’t sure when him helping you with your habit turned into you helping him cum, but he didn’t mind as he felt his cock throb between his fingers.

“Shit- s’good babydoll shit-” he groaned and his hips shook, you hummed in satisfaction, thrilled by the praise. It sent shocks of vibrations that he couldn’t handle and soon he was cumming in his own fist, thick and warm, dripping over his fingers.

His stifled moaning got your attention and you lifted your head in time to watch him cum just inches from your face. It was mesmerizing.

“What’s that?” You asked timidly and he laughed softly as he caught his breath. He made sure it was all on his hand before he fixed his jeans, grabbing your arm with his clean hand and pulling you up to him so you’d sit back in his lap like you had before.

“It’s cum baby, means you made me feel really, really good.” He kissed your temple. And you pulled his wrist up closer to you, looking at it closely.

He desperately wanted to go clean his hand, but more than that, he wanted to have his cum in your mouth. His heart beat heavily against his chest. “D’you wanna taste it?” He asked and you were nodding before he finished speaking.

He grinned crookedly and pressed two fingers wet with cum past your swollen lips. You hummed and sucked it off his fingers, head lolling against his shoulder.

He kissed the crown of your head. “See? ‘S all better now, huh.” He spoke, to himself as well as you, holding you adoringly against his chest. He didn’t understand what happened, how he got you with his cock down your throat, but in no way was he complaining.

thank you for your support <3

part two here !!!!

#petalwrites #eddie munson #dom eddie munson #eddie munson x innocent!reader #eddie munson smut #perv!eddie munson #perv!eddie Munson x innocent!reader #requested #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader

4K notes · View notes

russellsppttemplates · 2 months

Note

Could you write something with dad Lando where his kid likes fish and they go to a sushi restaurant and he is trying to not die or throw up?? Please

When Matilda asked Lando if they could have dinner in a sushi restaurant, he couldn't say no to his little girl, even if it meant he wouldn't eat anything there and would have to try his best to not puke his guts out.

"When she asks you for sushi, you immediately say yes, but when I do it, you tell me to eat in whenever you're having a dinner out and I'm not there", you teased your husband as you walked inside the restaurant, bouncing Fraser on your hip as your little boy looked around while you waited for someone to direct you to your table, "I have been here before with you, baby", Lando reasoned, holding Matilda's hand in his, "I know, just teasing - it's actually cute how she has you wrapped around her finger", you kissed his cheek.

Lando excused himself to go to the bathroom just as the waiter came to take your order, discussing with him what the best ones would be for you and Matilda, "so that one for me and her to share, some rice for this little guy", you said as you skimmed over the menu looking for something else, "And for your husband, would you like me to suggest something?", he offered as he looked at the menu too.

"Daddy doesn't like fish, mummy", Matilda whispered as she pulled on your sleeve to get your attention, "That's true, princess", you spoke to her to let her know you heard her, "he doesn't eat fish - do you still have spring rolls?", you asked the waiter who nodded, "then he'll have those! thank you", you smiled.

By the time Lando was back, you could tell the smell was getting to him, "do you want to smell my perfume? I put an extra spritz on my wrist for you", you stretched your arm out, Matilda busy drawing on the small sketch book got for her and Fraser happily fiddling with your necklaces and pendants, "And people still say romance is dead", Lando deadpanned as he took your hand, kissing your knuckles and taking a big whiff of your scent, blowing you a kiss after he winked at you.

When the food was brought to the table, however, it became hard for Lando to control the scent, sitting as far from it as he could, taking deep breaths with his mouth, "it really doesn't smell nice", he muttered before straightening his back and focusing in dipping his spring rolls on the sweet and sour sauce.

"I know you don't like fish, daddy, so thank you for coming with us", Matilda said sweetly, "are you sure you don't want to try this one? You can barely taste the fish", she said, holding her chopsticks with a small piece out for him.

Lando swalled thickly before answering, "Matilda, I love you and mummy and Fraser more than any words can say or any amount of trips to the sushi restaurant, but I'm going to pass on that, okay? Daddy is fine, I'll get something else on the way home", he assured her as the spring rolls onky satisfied him so much, "thank you, though, sweet girl", he kissed her forehead, mindful of the little fingers that hand been touching the fish every now and again.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#lando norris blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

900 notes · View notes

ilsanslut · 6 months

Text

꒷♡꒷ THE DUKE'S PET!

♰ featuring: wriothesley. [genshin impact]

sypnosis: what you get from being wriothesley’s pretty puppy. content/trigger warning(s): 18+. smut mentons. PUPPY-HYBRID!READER. GENDER NEUTRAL!READER. spanking. shoe-humping mentions. cock-warming. orgasm denial. dacryphilia. overstimulation. obvious pet-play themes. name calling/degradation. punishments. tummy bulging. sharing mentions (clorinde + neuvillette). ꒷꒦

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S PET INCLUDES being given to him by none other than the iudex of fontaine himself, neuvillette, as a “gift” of sorts. more so, you were a prisoner who personally denied your trial since you knew you were guilty, so neuvillette thought of a fitting place for you instead. he knew that wriothesley wanted a pet to keep him company while within the walls of the fortress of meropide, but he refrained due to it being cruel to keep an animal somewhere in which they could never see the sun. however, a puppy-human hybrid should suffice well enough, right?

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S PET INCLUDES him not knowing what the fuck to do with you once he first got you. he understood how to take care of a dog well enough, but you were mostly human and had greater intelligence than that of a dog (most of the time). he seemed a little put-off by you at first, tensing up when you came to him for pets and affection, picking you up by the armpits (even if you were taller than him) and sitting you down on the couch of his office when you tried to smother kisses all over his face, pulling you by the back of your shirt while hissing a quick “quit it” every time you growled at someone who entered his office—even his guards, and even those times when you tried to mark his office as your territory . . .

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S PET INCLUDES him taking his sweet time to warm up to you, but once he grew comfortable with your presence, you became the most spoiled pup around. he got you your own pretty collar, but of course, in his own aesthetic. a thick, studded black strap with ruby gems and a silver loop in the center connecting to a crimson pendant ringed in silver, with his initials engraved on the back. he bought you your own toys (even though you were more inclined to gnaw your sharp canines on the steel of his boots), and he even purchased a separate couch for you in his office for your afternoon naps with your name engraved on the gold that lined the backrest.

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S PET INCLUDES going to the surface world with him any time he has a particular errand to run or just when he has free time. (he most definitely does that thing where he says a simple phrase like “outside?” or “walkies?” and has to restrain himself from cackling as he watches you go beserk in your own excitement.) hours are spent in the city of fontaine shopping for new items for you, such as clothes, toys, collars, etc. your days typically end with him allowing you to expend the rest of your energy chasing squirrels or birds in the fontainian wilderness until you eventually tucker yourself out and he carries you back to the fortress.

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S PET INCLUDES being his little (or big) lap dog whenever he’s sitting in his office. whether he’s in the middle of signing off on a boatload of documents or talking with someone who entered his office, you’d shuffle your way into his folded arms and perch yourself on his lap, nuzzling yourself against his chest. he was never one to deny you affection (unless you were bad) and would always indulge in praising you whenever he deemed fit. scratches behind your ears, on your belly, gentle kisses to the forehead—you name it! wriothesley would give it all to you since he just couldn’t say no to you. that is, until he was forced to.

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S PET INCLUDES him forgetting that while you are human, you still have the high-energy canine instincts of whatever breed you’re mixed with. that means you often get yourself into trouble more than you’d like. dashing over to others to steal their food at the coupon cafeteria because it smelled soo yummy, growling and picking fights with either the inmates or the guards who were simply minding their business, chewing on wriothesley’s boots, bookshelf, and the wood of his desk because you were bored, humping his leg or whatever you could get your needy parts on whenever your heat rolls around, and finally, his last straw, you tearing up the important documents and registration papers of the inmates because you were fed up with his silent treatment punishment.

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S PET INCLUDES includes cowering and whining in fear when you see him towering over you, a steely glare in his eyes, and a deep scowl on his face as his chest rises and falls heavily from this thoroughly wasted patience. his fists would clench so tightly by his sides that you could hear them grinding against the leather of his gloves and the metal of his rings. you would give him your best puppy eyes and cutest whimpers to try and appease his anger, but it was futile. then he would utter the words that always sent a chill down your spine.

“bedroom, now.”

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S NAUGHTY PET INCLUDES you shaking your head at him and whimpering out a ‘no’ when he orders you to his quarters. at first, he’s dumbfounded—stunned that you would even dare to disobey him when he had given you a clear, firm order—and then he’s laughing. it’s dry and humorless, and it strikes fear in the depths of your trembling little being. however, before you could react, his hand is threading itself non-too-kindly into your locks and dragging you along the steel floors of his office until you’re in your shared bedroom.

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S NAUGHTY PET INCLUDES knowing that he’s not a fan of verbal reprimanding. when he needed to correct your behavior, he was always physical. he wastes no time sitting on the edge of the bed and discarding whatever bottoms you were wearing before slinging you over his lap and popping a series of quick swats onto your ass cheeks, ringed-fingers and all. if you dared to try and use your fluffy tail to negate his hits, he was snatching it in a firm grip at the base and snarling out a bone-chilling “behave” before he would rain down more spanks onto your reddening cheeks until you’re a sniffling mess in his lap.

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S NAUGHTY PET INCLUDES you being unable to hide the arousal brewing from your nethers from being punished on wriothesley’s lap, accidentally giving yourself away when you shift on his lap, and the lewd squelch of your arousal squishing from your sex and his thigh is picked up by his stupidly good hearing.

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S NAUGHTY PET INCLUDES feeling your nethers throbbing when he utters out a “oh?” in that breathy growl that makes your head spin. “whats this?” he would inquire as he scoops up the milky fluid with two of his digits, not waiting for your pitiful answer as he uses the liquid as lube to stroke your sex with a teasing touch. “getting off on being punished?” he continues through your whimpers as your legs flail behind you from his increasing pace. “what a filthy mutt you are.”

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S NAUGHTY PET INCLUDES being edged until the depths of the sea grew dark from the long set sun and illuminated from the moon hanging high in the sky. you’d be brought to the brink of your orgasm time and time again; however, every time you were about to reach your high, wriothesley would pull away, mocking your frustrated whines and begging whimpers with a faux pout of his own. “aww, my poor baby.” he would pout in an insincere tone, using his drenched fingers to wipe the tears streaming down your cheeks. “you wanna cum, don’t you?” he’d ask, with his free hand gently stroking your sensitive sex. you would nod, babbling pleas and helpless cries for him to ‘please, please, let you cum because you’ll be a good pup for him’, only for him to grin cruelly down at you and go, “if you wanted to be good for me, you would’ve been so from the beginning. crazy how that works, hm?”

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S NAUGHTY PET INCLUDES when he finally does let you cum, he doesn’t let you stop. you’re gifted orgasm after orgasm until the sheets are ruined with your release, your poor body is trembling uncontrollably, your nethers are throbbing, and even the slightest breeze makes you wail from the overstimulation. you cry and cry and plead for him to be gentler with you, to please give you a break to let you catch your breath, but he only cackles at your misfortune and goes, “this is what you wanted, isn’t it? to make a mess like the filthy pup you are? so then take it, Y/N.”

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S NAUGHTY PET INCLUDES always being gifted with the best aftercare, no matter how tired wriothesley might be. he’ll whisper sweet nothings into your ear as he gently massages your sore limbs and nethers, praising you for being such a good pup for him. moreover, he’ll even state that he’s no longer mad at you just to see your pretty ears perk up and your fluffy tail wag. even when he’s pushed past the point of exhaustion, he’ll stagger into the bathroom, run a warm bath for the two of you, and carry your quivering body into the soothing waters. before he joins you, he always discards the messy sheets and replaces them with new ones, but not before letting them run in the dryer for a few minutes so that they’re nice and toasty for you.

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S NAUGHTY PET INCLUDES being his number one stress reliever whenever he needs to relieve some tension. you could be sitting docilely on the couch he brought you by yourself in his office, and he could just scoot his chair back while tossing his head back with a mighty sigh, and you would already know what to do. you’d prance over to him, and he would remove whatever lower garments you were wearing and dive right into you, feasting on you in your entirety until he was thoroughly relieved. if he was having a particularly rough day, he would call your name in a gruff tone and pat his lap to call you over. he would have you sit on his lap with his cock nestled deep in your walls, squeezing him so, so tightly as he tries to finish his paperwork, but he never can. nine times out of ten, it always ends with him tossing his paperwork aside, picking you up, and ravishing you right then and there on his desk.

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S NAUGHTY PET INCLUDES the amount of times guards and inmates have had to stutter over their words as they try to talk to or give reports to the duke, however, becoming thoroughly distracted by the sight of your pretty mouth swallowing inch after inch of wriothesley’s cock beneath his desk since you couldn't 'shut the fuck up and stop growling’ at the poor men and women who were just trying to do their jobs.

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S NAUGHTY PET INCLUDES servicing wriothesley’s friends whenever they visit the fortress. clorinde attaching a leather leash to your collar as she perches herself on the edge of wriothesley’s desk, using the lead to pull your kneeling form close to her pretty folds to eat her out while she makes your head dizzy as she praises and degrades you simultaneously. “what a well-trained pooch you have here, duke . . . such a pathetic, needy thing they are. i might just have to borrow them for myself sometime.” to which wriothesley, who was watching from over her shoulder with a possessive and lustful gaze in his eye, just shakes his head as he observes your lithe, sloppy, and greedy tongue eagerly lapping at the duelist’s glimmering pearl while your tail wags incessantly behind you. “nah, not a chance. they’re mine, clorinde.”

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S NAUGHTY PET INCLUDES even letting neuvillette in on the fun every once in a while. naturally, he brought you along for the ride when he had to personally meet with the iudex to discuss some business matters. neuvillette was amazed at how well his plan had worked when he saw how well-behaved and obedient you were, especially considering how you had been at first, when he had to hold you at arm's length away from him by your scruff to prevent your pointy puppy teeth from gnawing into his arms. he too would indulge in you by clearing his desk of all paperwork and fucking you right then and there on top of the expensive oak. when he told you to bark, you would. when he told you to sit on his cock, you would ride him within an inch of his sovereign life. when he told you to cum, you would not hesitate to gush all over him and yourself, effectively making a mess of both of your sweaty bodies. “such an obedient little thing. i am almost saddened that i gifted you to wriothesley and did not keep such a pretty puppy for myself.” he would growl, his slitted pupils constricting to pinpoints as they observed the way his two draconic cocks bulged your tummy.

BEING WRIOTHESLEY’S CHERISHED PET INCLUDES living out the rest of your days by his side as arguably the most spoiled and loved pup in the entirety of teyvat. you became his light in the darkness—his salvation from the perpetual state of solemn loneliness that he had isolated himself in, while he became your salvation in a surprisingly cruel world. you have never felt safer or more secure in your life than you did when you were with him. when he held you tenderly and whispered affirmations into your fluffy ears, you felt more loved than you had ever felt before. all in all, he was your second half, and you were his, and he’d be damned if he let anything change that any time soon.

#tw: hybrids #genshin impact #genshin #genshin smut #wriothesley #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley imagines #genshin wriothesley #genshin headcanons #genshin impact smut #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #wriothesley headcanons #vampiiebitez

2K notes · View notes

novalizinpeace · 4 months

Text

Have been a time since i had made a full post for the cartoon critters, so time to give them some love

I present to you... The Smiling Critters's Family Tree

1- Dogday & Catnap - Queen Gaia

''Everybody call her your highness, but for us, mom is just mom''

Her introduction in the cartoon is a surprise for everybody, since nobody knew Catnap & Dogday were actually sibling (even when the two refer to the other as brother, they thought it was a best friend thing), even less knew they were princes! Queen Gaia is a calm, motherly figure, but after lost her husband in a war with another kingdom, she decide to hide her two babies from the public, and when they became old enough to have a pendant, let them live with their people in hope to teach them to overcome their weakness (arrogance in Catnap and cowardice in Dogday). Her original pendant was able to move both the sun and the moon, but she divide it to let her sons the responsability (the one she have now is a fake one, something important for the season finale of the cartoon)

2-Picky & Kickin - Mr. Piggy

''Our dad is the best!'' ''No comparation needed!''

Mr. Piggy isn't a recurrent character in the cartoon, making his debut in Kickin's birthday just to tell the story of how he found a egg with legs running around his farm (all the episode is basically a retell of the poor pigman trying to catch the egg while also having her daughter in his back). He's a good apple, loving dad that enjoy spend time with his kids, been cooking something with Picky (he teach her about healthy ingredients) or going fishing with Kickin (is the only calm activity Kickin can do without get bored). The Apple pendant was originally his, while the star pendant was found by the own Kickin.

3- Bubba - Mr. and Mrs Tiny

''I'm just... A tiny Bubbaphant''

The stork made a mistake, and Bubba end up with two parents that only shared with him the big ears, but not for this the Tiny couple stop loving their son, nor Bubba stop looking at his parents as the best he could have. Their debut is subtle, and they don't have a lot of relevance in the cartoon, but is funny to see them from time to time over Bubba's head in a event.

4- Bobby - The Bearhug Family

''Don't worry! They don't bite, i teach them not to''

Yep, Bobby come from a ''wild'' family. Their debut episode talk about the differences between a ''critter'' and a ''wild'' (basically, any real animal is a wild in this cartoon), been the whole episode a explication of how Bobby become the critter she's now (and how she got her pendant).

5-Hoppy - The Hopscotch sibling

''We're a team! A team that hops together stay together!''

There's no a debut of Hoppy's parents, but it's implied that they're still alive, just really busy. Meanwhile, her sibling show up from time to time, been as background characters, or with their our episode, been two: one where Hoppy is wants to participate in a sibling deportive event and can't find the perfect harmony with any of her sibling ('cause none of them are as sporty as her), and one where she need to babysit Huppy, but the lil' troublemaker end up causing troubles for all the critters. In the sibling event it explain that Hoppy got her pendant from her big sister, 'cause she wasn't able to control the power like it was suppose to.

6-Craftycorn - King Canvas

''I... had never been enough for him...''

No showing his full design yet, but only leaving something clear: he's a villain, having his debut in the season finale, but there's mentions of him around all the cartoon, incluying the implication of him killing Queen Gaia's husband. Craftycorn isn't a big fan of her dad.

#poppy playtime #smiling critters oc #smiling critters #dogday #catnap #picky piggy #kickin chicken #bobby bearhug #bubba bubbaphant #hoppy hopscotch #craftycorn #family tree #character study #nova say

863 notes · View notes

taintedbenevolence · 7 months

Text

YAN! WRIOTHESLEY X FEM! READER

m i n o r s d o n o t i n t e r a c t !

" 𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒. "

— 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 —

do not interact/read if the following triggers you! MENTIONS OF / IMPLIED STALKING, IMPLIED MURDER, MENTIONS OF BLOOD, USE OF APHRODISIACS, ODAXELAGNIA, NON-CONSENSUAL DISPLAY OF AFFECTION, IMPLIED MASTURBATION, UNPROTECTED SEX, BREEDING KINK, ORAL SEX [RECEIVING], AND FINGERING IMPLIED / DESCRIBED.

OVERPROTECTIVE AND TOXIC / OBSESSIVE / POSSESSIVE BEHAVIOR.

•,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,• You should've known better than to blindly follow an order to enter Wriothesley's office that day.

Your morning had started off rather normal, with the exception of Sigewinne visiting you to leave you a letter written by none other than the Duke. At first, you thought it was just a notice for you, one related to business matters, or one about ordeals within the Fortress.

The letter resulted to be nothing at all what you expected it to be.

It was merely a note. "Please pass by my quarters when you have time today. Preferably during evening hours. I'd like to have a chat with you." That was it. Nothing more, nothing less. Simple, direct, and straight to the point. Just like the man himself.

The little Melusine who handed you the letter wore a bright yet small smile on her face as she stood up straight. "It seems you've caught the eye of His Grace," she says, almost teasingly, though you shook your head. "I wouldn't go as far as to say I've caught the attention of someone like him," you reply with a wry smile, though a part of you silently wishes it were otherwise.

But you had caught his eye, and from far early on too. The Lord of the Fortress of Meropide rarely traveled to the surface. It wasn't every once in a million years, naturally, but, it wasn't a common sight. Most cases, he was there strictly on business and other important matters rather than on vacation.

That, however, changed the moment he saw you. You were breathtaking, and better yet, you were not intimidated by his presence alone. Most people would keep their distance, look away, unable to meet his gaze, and lack the ability to keep their composure around him. But you?

You were perfectly fine being near him, wearing small smiles that gave him absolute butterflies, as much as he hated to admit. You were honest and though maybe partly reserved, still willing to share a proper chat when he approached you. He liked that. Sigewinne noticed.

And he wasn't sure whether he liked the little Melusine nosing around whenever he met you, because for all he knew, she could start getting ideas, and that... wouldn't have been ideal, put it lightly.

Nevertheless, it's easy to say that his visits to the surface became more frequent. He made your acquaintance and quickly enough became friends with you. It was smooth riding so far, and he was finding that the situation was going well for him.

Occasionally, the two of you would talk over a cup of tea and you'd chat about how things had been in your lives, whether maybe you'd lost a pendant you liked, or how there was a coffee you tried somewhere that was rather bitter, or how he had less work than usual, so he decided to spare some time to relax on the surface.

It was fine.

That is until he found out you had fallen in love the past days. But oh no, you were not in love with him. You were in love with someone else. That was the issue. So he began to inquire. How did this person act? How did you meet them? Do you think they'd make a great partner?

Simple questions just to see what was your view of them.

Don't get him wrong — he's glad that you've found someone you love. He's just upset that the person you've fallen for isn't him. So he then decides to find the person for whom you fell for. It doesn't take long for him to find them, and it's not much effort to convince them that he's only visiting on behalf of business matters.

He returns every so often back to the surface to meet with you and to keep eyes on your interest, making sure there are no "unwanted" advances between the two of you, and when he's at the Fortress, he simply has to hope that nothing occurs. Having someone work for this type of thing would be rather inefficient and would raise unnecessary suspicions.

Sure, people don't really need to understand what the Duke's motives are, but that doesn't refrain them from filing a report to the Chief Justice about unusual behavior. The two are acquainted, after all, and Neuvillette is more than adept at reading the behavior of humans.

So with that in mind, he decided it was best to do things himself. After all, if you want a job done right, you have to do it yourself. One day, whilst you conversed with Wriothesley, you spoke of how you planned to finally confess. He was immediately interested, and he, of course, listened, even if deep in his mind the person whom you treasured was a pool of blood.

If your confession proved to be successful, he'd have to find a way to slowly seed problems into the relationship. He isn't fond of what he'd have to do, but unfortunately enough, the small feeling of jealousy that has wrapped itself around his heart is eating away at him.

He'd find the little details that bring you and your significant other apart and slowly begin to rip those traits up to the surface. He'd at times advise you that there were things you should watch out for, given this would be your first time in a relationship (or he'd assume so), and most likely, he'll find a way to tear down the relationship bit by bit and make it seem like it wasn't even his fault. It will appear as if it was just that you were mistaken, that this relationship wouldn't really work out.

That being said, if your confession resulted in a rejection, he'd comfort you. He knows how much it'd hurt having your feelings being rejected like that, and he especially doesn't want you crying for someone else who isn't deserving of causing your sorrow. He wouldn't want you tearing up to the one who had the audacity of even making you cry. He'd probably be mad at the person, but not enough to walk back at them and talk to them about it, as much as he'd wish to rip them into two. He exercises self-control, and somehow manages to control himself.

Depending how the person reacted to your confession, would Wriothesley's anger be gauged. Unfortunately enough for you, and much to Wriothesley's pleasure, you were rejected. Now, don't get him wrong; he wants you to have a successful relationship, but he also doesn't want you being with someone that doesn't deserve you.

So the moment that you come to him, your expression more solemn and down than usual, he already knows what's happened. He invites you over to the Fortress inside to cheer you up and for a change in atmosphere. While taking you to a place meant for imprisonment isn't exactly one's definition of "fun," you were rather curious to see what was the place this man called home.

To your surprise, it was well kept, and didn't look like it was rotting as you thought it would be. He also showed you around his quarters, to let you know where he'd be, and of course he introduced you to Sigewinne, who was more than happy to meet you.

•,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,•

[| "Y/N, this is Sigewinne, our head nurse."[| "Oh, is this the person you've been rambling on about lately, Your Grace?"[| "... Sigewinne."

•,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,•

You could've sworn that you saw a small smirk on the Melusine's face because she knew that His Grace was head over heels for you. Of course, you didn't know that, but... she did. You were later on dismissed, and for the next weeks, you stayed at the Fortress, given you met several new people in there and wished to get to know them better.

Wriothesley being the busy man he is, doesn't always have time to get out of his quarters, but god, with you around he can't help but give a few more rounds to the Fortress just to watch you as you go about your day. How he remembers your smiles, when you mentioned to some your hobbies, your interests, and so on so forth...

His gaze often falls on your small frame and his mind will wander to how perfectly it will fit against his larger figure when he's deep inside of you and—

Wriothesley thinks this is wrong. He thinks this is twisted in more ways than one, but he can't bring himself to stop it. He's helpless to the thought of you running your hands through the soft tufts of his hair whilst he holds you to himself, the way your lips would feel when matches them with his own, or how beautiful you'd sound when he inserts his digits into you as you struggle to not moan out his name.

He hates that he can't feel you. It's driving him mad.

Sometimes he's filling in and signing the mountain of paperwork he has on his desk and his mind trails off to you, and archons it's not even a minute before he has to stand up and drink some tea to clear his head. On some occasions, he'll feel so utterly pent up that there's nothing left for him to do than to lock his doors and let his hand soothe his frustrations and urges while he wishes his hand were your own or your mouth instead.

His mind is clouded with thoughts he wouldn't speak of in front of the rest and a part of him feels guilty about feeling in such a way towards you, yet he knows he wouldn't have it any other way. He's completely enthralled by you and obsessed by the thought of being able to claim you as his own.

It grows to the point that every day he sees you becomes unbearable. He can't stand how your sweet voice falls on those who don't deserve to hear it, how you smile at the prisoners whenever you get to speak with them and help them out during their shifts, how your hands sometimes barely brush together when you walk amidst crowds and he swears that a single touch of yours is enough to make him want to pick you up right then and there and fuck you raw away from prying eyes.

He is desperate. And he needs you.

So he decides that today is that day. After a few days of spending time with Sigewinne in order to mix in certain herbs with tea, he ends up with a particularly sweet tea. He reserves it for you. He's pacing in his office before he sits down in a relaxed manner, waiting for you to enter.

And the moment he hears the gentle knocking on his door accompanied by your voice asking for permission to enter, he can already feel his heart hammering. Allowing you to enter, you close the doors behind you, and for a man who's obsessed in every sense of the word, he's certainly composed.

He gestures for you to take a seat, to which you comply, and then he goes off to get the tea. After all, what better way to host a small meeting like this than to talk over a cup of tea? You're able to take in its sweet aroma and taste, and to say you liked it may have been an understatement.

"So how have you been finding the Fortress?" he muses, one leg crossed comfortably over the other. You only smile softly as you respond, taking a quick sip of your tea before answering. "Certainly different than what I expected it to be, but it seems to be managed well."

His Grace only smiles in return, and he then clicks tongue. "Say, have you enjoyed your stay here?" he asks, taking a sip as he waits. "It's been great. While some have a sharp tongue, there are a couple of people who have been good company, even if most of the time I'm around Sigewinne," you answer.

"Speaking of, where has she been?" you state, because now that you thought about it, you hadn't seen the little Melusine around the Fortress recently. Wriothesley just blinks as he then slightly mouths an 'oh.' "She's been off gathering herbs for medicine and treatment," he replies, before finishing the rest of the tea in his cup.

You hum in understanding as you stay still, having finished your own cup as well. "I see. Anyways, thank you for the tea," you reply in gratitude. The Duke only nods, as he remains there, seemingly observing you for any changes.

The two of you keep conversing, but throughout the conversation, you start to take note of something. You feel a little... moist. Perhaps you were exerting yourself too much recently?.. No, that couldn't be it — you felt as if you were getting warm all of a sudden. You couldn't exactly place your finger on what the sensation was.

Additionally, you couldn't exactly shake off the feeling no matter how hard you tried to focus on the man in front of you, and as time passed, you began to lose focus on the conversation you held with Wriothesley and your attention shifted to yourself, your gaze falling in between your thighs, the space feeling rather wet, for a lack of better words, the only thing in your mind being how unusually much you wished to be—

"Y/N?"

Wriothesley's voice snapped you back to the present as you felt blood rush to your face. No, that wasn't right, why were you feeling like this...? This was wrong... The man in front of you could only pretend for so long that he didn't know what was happening, but he wasn't in a far too different situation. The seemingly faint bulge in his pants grew ever slightly, and he was already starting to feel a little trapped and tight in his coat. He knew that you were starting to receive the effects already, so it was only a matter of time.

"Are you feeling well?" He murmurs, placing a hand on your shoulder before giving it a light squeeze, and you can swear that for a split moment you almost shiver. "... I.. it's.. sorry," you manage to murmur as you sigh quietly as you shook your head. "Is it just me, or.. is it getting rather hot in here..?"

Oh, how he wants to laugh.

You almost feel stupid having asked something of the like, and Wriothesley's barely holding himself together as he breathes quietly and calmly. He's on the verge of taking you right here and then, but he decides against it just to see what you'll do. "I feel it too," he replies relaxed, and your eyes seem to slightly light up. "Oh, so it's not just me..? That's at least a bit reassuring..."

He's so fucking desperate. Can't you tell?

And then he asks the magical question. "Why do you think I asked you to come in here?"

You blink, thinking through the question, before answering, a bit perplexed. "Because you wanted to talk...?" you reply. The man chuckles softly, though he shakes his head. "More than that, there was... something else." Confusion begins to run through your mind as you try to inquire as to what he means but before you can say another word, he picks you up, and carries you away as if you were nothing but a feather.

He locks the door to his office, and he walks up the stairs with you in his arms. "Wriothesley, what're you doing?—" you can barely say, your face pressed up against his clothed chest, but he silences you as he lays you flat on his desk.

His firm hands are quick to undo your clothing in your lower body, as he he carefully but easily slides off your undergarments. You can only feel the heat rush through you as your heart pounds. "Wriothesley, what are you—"

And your voice leaves you as you feel him spread apart your legs with his cold fingers, a bitter chill running through your spine as his tongue only starts to tease you by dampening furthermore your already wet folds. You can only bite your tongue to hold in a moan, though it proves futile when he begins to work on your clit, teasing and tracing faint circles with his tongue, causing a few whines to escape your mouth.

You can't tell whether to feel pleasured or scared. Wriothesley gives you no time to think.

He makes no effort to stop whilst you can only grasp and tug his hair, while you nervously and shakily run your hands down his smooth, black locks that glisten beneath the amber lights of his office. It doesn't take much longer for him to reach your entrance, and you clasp your mouth with your hand as you inevitably moan involuntarily. You feel your eyes practically roll back as you try to maintain your gaze focused on the raven-haired male, feeling the wet muscle continuously slipping in and out of your tightened entrance and you're certainly grateful the walls of his office are soundproof.

"Wriothesley, I can't— f-fuck!"

You can't help but squirm, your heart racing as your chest heaves up and down. Your vision is somewhat hazed, your attempts to shift comfortably failing as a new wave of pleasure surges through you as your entrance and clit are endlessly teased and caressed, a pressure building up inside you.

He's eating you out, and you're not even exactly sure if your mind would agree that you enjoy it, but your body sure as hell is, because your senses are getting stimulated beyond possibility. Your breathing is definitely evident and no longer quiet, and you can barely muffle how vocal you're growing until at a moment, you feel him retract at last.

Yet before you're able to question it, he repositions himself above you, and he's pinning your wrists above your head, his knees at either side of you as his imposing figure looms over your body, casting a slight shadow on you. "You sure are — hah — quite loud," he whispers with a teasing smirk edging on his face, his tone of voice growing a bit rasped as he reaches for an item that dangles on his hips — one you're quite familiar with.

Handcuffs.

And before you know it he's clipped them onto you and bound your wrists to his desk above your head, not allowing you to move them, their silver hue glister, glimmering in the dark shadows. "You're fucking mine," he snarls before he kisses you on the lips with fervor, almost as if he might just devour you on the spot if you don't do anything about it.

He's rough and passionate, not giving you a chance to breathe. The sudden ferocity and intensity in his act is more than enough to leave you breathless whilst you try to get used to it, to which he responds with a low growl. It's as if he's been starved for ages and his hunger is to never be sated. He bites down softly on your lower lip, effectively causing you to part your lips, giving him a chance to slide his tongue within.

The rush it gave you was almost feverish, even if it was wrong at its core. He tastes sweet, you think, as your tongues mingle together, the sweetness flooding your palates. Your train of thought was interrupted once more when he finally separated, and you breathed heavily. He was catching his breath, his mouth slightly hung open, giving you a view of the sharp canines he possesses. A small, barely noticeable trail of saliva connected your lips to his own, and he stared down at you, licking his lips to rid the saliva before his gaze landed on your neck. His hands, even with wraps and binds, were cold to the touch as he caressed your soft skin.

You're still catching your breath, blood rushing to your face when you feel him bite into your flesh, a quiet cry akin to a whine leaving you, only fueling his desire. He quietly growls, and he almost seems feral as he licks over the wound, moving quickly to other uncovered areas in your neck as he litters kisses around it. He bites hard and deep, sucking on the skin just enough to leave a couple of hickeys on you.

"You're all mine."

No words are required to be exchanged as he pauses, just leaning back. Seeing your taken-aback expression, he just chuckles softly, his icy gaze combined with the ever earnest smirk he wears already enough to keep you still beneath his iron grip. "I could just eat you up and you'd beg for more, wouldn't you, huh?" He states, his voice sounding like music to your ears.

"Bet you'd want me to fuck you dumb too."

He tugs on his tie, letting it fall loose untied with ease as his coat soon follows, allowing you to gain an exposed view of his scarred body. There's nothing more you'd like than to run your hands through his chest but the handcuffs don't allow you to move your arms in the slightest. He's depriving you of one pleasure, and he relishes in that.

"My eyes are up here, sweetheart."

And god does he love it when you try to avert your gaze in embarrassment, knowing that your eyes had solely been focused on his body. He takes his hand and tilts your chin so you're forced to meet his gaze, and he delights in the way you shudder at his mere touch — he has you at the mercy of his fingertips, he'd bet.

You're being driven mad, something he enjoys — he's no sadist, but he definitely likes seeing you having to put up with the building pressure and urges he held back on this entire time. He decides to toy furthermore with you, as he slowly begins to unclasp the belt around his waist as his pants come off loose.

You know what the man wants.

It doesn't take much time for the rest to come off, and it's very clear to you where this is going. The back of your mind is screaming at you to run, to move, anything, but your body just lies and stays still without making a sound. His hips are pressed into yours, and he has zero hesitation as he begins to slide himself inside you, positioning himself as you whimper, tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes as you feel your walls stretching to accommodate to the sudden, large length that was pushed inside of you. It's too much for you, but he hushes you, caressing your face softly and wiping your tears.

"You're going to take all of it in for me, aren't you? Hah, so fuckin' tight..."

It hurts, and his gentle caresses are a sharp contrast to how he continuously pushes inside you until he finally reaches that place that would make you scream out in pleasure. And he knows it. He's impatient, and won't waste another second, and in just a few more seconds, he's already ramming his hips against yours, bulging cock sliding in and out at a pace you can no longer register.

"God — you're so good for me — no one else is allowed to see you like this, understood?"

The both of you are lost in lust, and your heart hammers in you whilst fear and pleasure courses right through your veins. You get the feeling he's not just pleasuring you — he's marking you, through and through, making sure that by the time you're walking out, people will only perceive his scent on you wherever you go. He wants you and you alone.

Anyone who wishes to debate his posture is more than welcome to have a word with him in the ring.

You're barely able to choke out his name as he fucks you senseless, giving you no space to plead or speak at all, for that matter. The only noise you get out are your helpless moans as you shudder from each thrust. He's feral, hungry and starved for your love, and he wants to consume every bit of it.

"Wriothesley — fuck — I-"

If it weren't for the fact he's fucking you to oblivion on his desk, he'd probably find it amusing how helpless you've become in the span of a few minutes. He loves it. Your eyes are half-lidded and brimming with tears, your moans resounding through the entirety of his office, to which thankfully, there is no one else within except the two of you. You might've not registered it but you're sure he's already torn through all the clothes covering your chest too, leaving you now entirely exposed and vulnerable to his touch.

You start to feel the building pressure you had before, and your breathing is labored, heavy. You don't think you can take this for much longer, your folds wet and walls tightening around his cock. You really weren't sure how in hell you were going to fit all of it in, but you seemed to be taking it rather well.

Your synchronized moans and his groans paired together combine, slowing into a perfectioned, rhythmic catharsis as you finally reach your climax, your fluids coating him and staining the firm material beneath you, to which you can't help but wonder how exactly does he plan to clean.

Yet as you finally release, he still doesn't stop. He's not stopping, not yet, not when he's finally got you fucked over and whimpering, helplessly begging him to cum inside of you. All of your senses and inhibitions have been tossed aside, leaving you a forlorn, flustered mess. He craves you, he might just devour you, he's unable to contain himself.

"You look so adorable when you beg, yeah? So wet and tight for me, 'M just gonna have to keep going for you..."

He is relentless. By the time he cums, you're already left breathless, voice broken and unable to say a thing other than a quiet whine. He's breathing heavily, letting his seed settle within you as his residual flows leak through your thighs, painting you as his own.

"Hah... that look in your eyes.. you wanna be rewarded, don't you? 'M just gonna have to stuff you full, hm?"

He nuzzles his head in your neck, letting the soft tufts of his hair caress your skin softly. He's still inside you, his cum still leaking through your thighs and out of your worn-out, throbbing pussy. Slowly, he slides out of you, earning a faint, muffled hum akin to that of a moan as you catch your breath. "Wrio..." you mumble out, and he presses a light kiss to your neck, right on a mark he left by earlier.

"'M gonna fill you up and make you cum 'till you can't think..." he murmured, one of his hands soothingly caressing your neck as he runs his hand through your back, his other, free hand reaching down towards your wet folds, his fingertips tracing lazy circles on your clit as he teases you gently, causing a few moans and whimpers to escape you. "'M gonna breed you.. make you all mine, darlin'."

He inserts two of his digits inside you fervently, fingering you, keeping you wet and tight as you squirm from his touch. He pulls in and out, unending and denying your pleads to stop. "P-please, Wrio — fuck — I can't-" He ignores your cries. Instead, he presses kisses across your jawline until meeting your lips, keeping you encased, trapped in a passionate kiss whilst being pleasured to no end.

"You can take it. Easy there, love."

You only respond with a whine as you feel yourself slowly reach your climax again, fluids seeping through your body and covering his digits, that slowly pull out with a wet sound. Your mouth is slightly hung open, your face with faint tints of red hidden by your disheveled hair, your body numb and almost limp.

The black-haired man simply held you tight, holding you close, never letting go, his voice whispering to you sweet nothings. His grip was tight, and unbeknownst to you, tears slowly smeared, falling across your face. You felt filthy. You felt violated. Anything but loved. And you knew more than ever, that from this day forth, you'd only ever be his.

His to love. His to hold.

For a night and forevermore, you were solely his to behold.

•,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,•

A/N - I am utterly in love with this man. This prompt was also meant for yesterday bc Halloween n all, but I didn't make it- so- here you are- a little belated but still here! Same applies to the Imbibitor Lunae prompt that is soon to come! Love you all, remember to stay safe.

2K notes · View notes

hawkinsbnbg · 9 months

Text

‪Steve liked to collect the trinkets that Eddie gave him. It was a diverse collection.‬

‪There were old band T-shirt, small rock, button, pin, mini figure, bracelet, pendant, and many other random things that Steve never thought about until Eddie gave them to him.‬

‪Steve wouldn't say it to anyone because it was a little embarrassing but he loved them.‬

‪Loved that Eddie's first thought when looking at them was giving them to Steve.‬

‪Loved that Eddie would surprise him with little gifts every day.‬

‪Loved that Eddie would tell Steve story pieces about each of them.‬

‪Such as that bear figurine was once Eddie's first attempt at sculpting with a pocket knife. That was why it looked kinda crooked and maimed.‬

‪That Metallica T-shirt and pins were bought with his first paycheck.‬

‪That small whale-shaped rock was a rare one and he had picked it up outside Wayne's trailer when he first came live with the man.‬

‪That bracelet was from Eddie's first time attending a small metal concert.‬

‪Or, that flower-shaped button was collected from his first sewing kit.‬

‪Gradually, Steve realized that Eddie always gave him things that were meant to be keepsakes of his first times.‬

‪When he asked, Eddie just shrugged and smiled warmly albeit shyly at him.‬

‪"I trust you to keep them safe for me."‬

‪And Steve did.‬

‪He carefully put them into each box that held their kind and then locked those boxes away in a sturdy chest.‬

‪It also became some sort of a game of between them.‬

‪While Steve memorized what he already had and didn't have yet, Eddie would try to impress him with new trinkets.‬

‪"You already gave me this one," Steve looked at the barb figurine.‬

‪"What about this?" Eddie held up a red dice.‬

‪"It's the same with what I use these days."‬

‪"This one?" Eddie took out a lighter that had a rose carved on it.‬

‪"I have three chests of trinkets, Eddie. And this lighter is sitting in the second one." Steve bit back a smile when Eddie sighed in frustration.‬

‪The metalhead seemed to be at a great distress at not being able to give Steve something new.‬

‪"Hey, don't be upset because there's this thing you haven't given me, yet," Steve gave in his urge to smile fondly as Eddie straightened up eagerly.‬

‪"What is it?"‬

‪Wordlessly, Steve used his pointer finger to tap on his lips.‬

‪Eddie widened his eyes and exhaled softly, "Oh,"‬

‪"Impress me, Munson," was Steve's last words before his lips were locked in a heated kiss.‬

‪Sometime later, they finally parted and their cheeks hurt from smiling too much. ‬

‪Leaning his forehead against Steve's, Eddie whispered, "Hey, would you mind if I give you Eddie Munson?"‬

‪Giggling, Steve pressed a small kiss into Eddie's curved lips, "No, I wouldn't mind."‬

‪Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie's neck as they went back to kissing, it seemed a metalhead had joined his collection now.‬

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fluff #sionewrites #trinkets

1K notes · View notes

pomegranateandblood · 5 months

Note

do you think you can do a wally clark fluff turned into smut maybe? i know you said you only do smut but i would love it if u could! thank u!

A/N: Heyyy. Welcome to my first fic for this blog. You wanted more fluff so I kept the smut a little bit on the down low for this, because usually I write full on smexy times. Thank you for requesting and Enjoy! ❤️🍍

—

Friends

It was Homecoming week. You and the other ghosts were busy decorating the gym and painting posters to support Wally.

You were washing your hands and arms free off the dry blue paint as the brunette jock approached you. He seemed nervous.

„Everything okay ? You know it's the same routine as every year." You smiled looking at him through the mirror.

He had paint on his cheeks and arms, some even got into his ebony hair. „Look umm, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to be my date to the homecoming game?"

He was beet red, looking down at his hands. „-as friends of course."

You had to hold back a smile at his cute attempt not to make you flustered or embarrassed by his request.

Turning the faucet off, you dried your hands with paper towels before turning around. „I didn't guess you were the type to be ‚just friends' with a girl, football star."

You smirked playfully and he stared at you, mouth slightly open. „I- umm." he laughed nervously trying to find a right comeback.

„I guess I'm just not your type. Sadly." You clicked your tongue against your cheek before leaning close to his ear „Because I totally got a thing for tall, brunette jocks."

He sucked in a breath and before you could walk away held onto your arm. „It's a date. Wear a skirt."

You bit your lip as you nodded and walked away.

„Please" he added, his enthusiastic voice hollowing through the empty bathroom, making you giggle. Wally couldn't be not nice.

—-

As you waited for Wally in front of the stadium, you became more nervous. You really liked him and hoped that today you two could do something about the unresolved feelings.

Charly had helped you go through the wardrobe of the theatre club to find a skirt and matching outfit. Luckily they had just performed a more modern version of ‚Hairspray', resulting in you now wearing a pastel blue pleated skirt and a white tank top with a bow detail.

Good Thing that ghosts couldn't freeze bc else you definitely would've caught a cold in the chilly evening air.

„I hope I didn't make you wait too long, I couldn't find my jersey."

The date went well, Wally was enjoying the match.

After you two finished the fries and hot dogs he held your hand. Butterflies erupted in your stomach, flushing your cheeks.

„I got a gift for you." Wally said, taking out a box from the pocket of his letterman jacket.

It was a cardboard box, painted with the same paint you used for the posters.

„I found a necklace in the Lost and Found Box and the charm is wood. I wish I could give you something real and more special.“ Wally said as he opened the lid.

Inside was a silver necklace with a small pendant. The number 57. Wally‘s number.

You smiled. „It‘s perfect.“

Taking it out of the box, you fumbled with the clasp to put it on.

„I love it, Wally. Thank you" you said, touching the little pendant on your cleavage.

Your eyes drifted from his plush lips to his chocolate orbs, contemplating if you should kiss him. Before you could move, his hand touched your thigh at the seam of your skirt, burning your skin.

He licked his lips before leaning forward, giving you an innocent smooch. Noses to Nose he whispered. „I'm glad you don't want to be my friend."

The Hand on your thigh moved up to your hips and pulled you on his lap, your back pressed against the edge of the table. Being touched by him felt so good.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, capturing his lips again. He moaned into your mouth, which made you move your hips against his lap.

His hair was soft between your fingers and you slightly pulled at it. His hands snuck under your skirt, securing your hips on his crotch.

„Mmh is that why you wanted me to wear a skirt?" you teased, leaning your head back as he started kissing your neck.

The chuckle vibrated against the sensitive skin of your throat, right at your pulse point. You sighed.

„No, I just like the view of your legs. Even if it benefits me now." he groans.

You could feel the wetness of your panties as you tried to ease the friction between your thigh by pressing against him.

„Fuck, you want me to fuck you on this bench love?" He looks at you with dark eyes.

Wally must be uncomfortable in his tight football pants, so you pull at the strings securing it. „Yes please."

He helps you pull them off just enough to free his length, before he hungrily nips at your lips again.

His fingers pulled your panties to the side and you guided him inside of you.

Your other hand dug into the fabric of his football jersey and you moaned into his mouth. Placing his hands on your hips again, Wally thrusted up into you.

Your hips met his thrusts and you pulled away from his brusing kiss, trying to catch your breath.

„Wally" you moaned, clenching around him.

His lips explored your jawline down to your cleavage, biting and nipping. He would surely leave marks.

The edge of the table dug into your lower back with every thrust, but you didn't care. As long as the dark haired ghost kept on pleasuring you like this.

His Thumb found your clit, massaging with different paces, bringing you closer to the edge.

„Don't stop, please" you breathed, circling your hips more.

He kissed you again as he came, spilling inside you with a few sloppy thrusts.

You joined him, collapsing into his arms.

Wally held you, his hands caressing your back, finger playing with a few strands of your hair and you put your head against his chest, trying to spot his nonexistent heartbeat.

You realized neither of you talked about what this made you. A couple?

All you knew was that he made your heart flutter and your head dizzy. Hopefully this could last another lifetime. Or more.

—

#milo manheim fanfiction #milo manheim #wally clark smut #wally clark #wally clark x reader #school spirits

468 notes · View notes

siribaes · 4 months

Text

WHO’S BETTER THAN ME?

RIO x blackfem!reader (oc - Angel)

“After their breakup a decade ago, Rio reunites with high school sweetheart making up for lost time—”

PARING: Exes to Lovers / Past High School Sweethearts

SUGGESTED TUNES 💿: Tu Principe by Daddy Yankee, What You Want by Ma$e & Total, Throwback by Usher & Jadakiss, Thugman by Tweet & Missy Elliott, Only U by Ashanti

CONTENTS: 18+ MDNI, SMUT, or*l (fem receiving), f*ngering, praise k*nk, slight possessive k*nk, Rio being a bedroom bully lol, some light use of Spanish, makeup s*x, cursing, etc. (UNEDITED/ NOT PROOF READ) / GIF CREDIT: @blackisblackisblack

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this was supposed to be a drabble but turned into a full-blown fic, but anyway LOL. so i did a lil AU for rio, essentially he pulled a griselda blanco moved operations to Long Beach (Rio is so west coast coded to me) but yeah, the backstory of these two is that they were childhood friends turned high school sweethearts (class of 2005 in my AU lore of these two, hints at the music choices, etc.) before they went separate ways yada yada, the oc’s face claim is danielle brooks 💖 as always enjoy y'all

Makeup sex shouldn’t be this good. Like this was too good, like ultimate dream-fantasy level type of makeup sex. It felt unreal, except this was very real. Very, very, real.

Angel never imagined that her night would've ended up like this, in the arms of her high school sweet-heart, or rather sitting on top of a very expensive, entry way console, as her high school-sweetheart-turned-ex, used his nimble hands to fondle at her luscious curves, and pillowy-soft lips to suck on the sensitive part of her neck. From how hard Rio sucked and kissed on her neck it was surely going to leave a hickey, which might've been on purpose on Rio's part.

Since they were young, Rio always had a slight possessiveness towards Angel, nothing that was too domineering or chauvinistic, but still a possessiveness that was rooted in a love and a true appreciation of her. This of course was expressed in a way that only a sixteen-year-old Rio could, buying Angel's favorite snacks for school, littering her neck with hickeys during make-out sessions, and even saving what little he had to buy a gold necklace with an angel shaped pendant. It was the subtle ways Rio showed how he felt. That in addition to the verbal ways, in true young-Rio, braggadocious fashion. Even then Angel knew, deep, deep, down, that there would be no one who could measure up, or as Rio so accurately foretold the night of their break-up, "Who else is like me, hm? Who's better than me?"

Angel of course buried that fact deep into her subconscious, well, not deep enough, because in each of her relationships since, it managed to rear its ugly head every single time. Most recently, with her ex-fiancé, Nathan. Nathan was great at first, good conversation, amazing dates, lavish gifts, he treated her like princess. But slowly, over time, Nathan stopped trying, it especially became bad after their engagement. They rarely talked, unless it was about work, or wedding plans, he neglected her, especially in the bedroom. Angel soon realized that despite Nathan's neglectfulness, she made no effort to confront him about it. She didn't care, not a single bit. In the end, Angel had to accept that her heart belonged to someone else. That Rio was the only man for her.

Which brings her too tonight, Angel's high school class's reunion. It was a big one, celebrating 20 years, and Angel thought it would be the perfect remedy to cheer her up. She could let loose, reunite with some old classmates, and celebrate with her friends she's had since then. Something that could put her mind at ease, pull her focus away from the abysmal ending to her engagement.

She was having a good time, truly, cutting up on the dance floor to a killer set of music from 04' and 05', with her besties, Clarissa, Benny, Keke, and Dre. Angel was having the time of her life, dancing to Lose My Breath by Destiny's Child, when her friends froze, their eyes all staring at the bar of the ballroom. Clarissa leaned and whispered.

"Rio's, here."

Angel's mind and heart went to full overdrive, as memories of their relationship flooded her mind. Apparently, while Angel and her friends were having the time of their lives, Rio showed up and instantly became the talk of the town. He had a few breezy conversations with old classmates, charming them of course, and when asked about what does for a living, he smoothly responded that he was an entrepreneur, that he's always been good with numbers. Which wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the truth either. Of course, none of their classmates were aware of Rio's true dealings, only Angel and her close circle were privy to that info.

Despite the nerves that bubbled in her stomach, Angel, knew that she had to face Rio at some point. She marched over and sat at the bar next to him. After some awkward pretense, more on Angel's part than Rio's, and shot of whiskey later, they talked. The conversation flowed and soon before they knew, it was like old times. They caught up and laughed about old memories. More and more Angel felt her heart swell in her chest, her latent feelings for Rio were bubbling to surface. But Rio surprised her, after sharing a couple dances to slow jams, a proposition slipped freely from his lips.

"Come home with me?"

From a safe distance, her friends watched the exchange, seeing the chemistry they still had after all this time, and despite some reservations, they encouraged to follow her heart, or as Keke put it, her pussy. When they were parting ways, Clarissa hugged her tight and encouraged her, whispering in her ear, "Just go with him, girl. Have some fun, we both now you deserve it after the shit you've been through."

So, here she was, whimpering and writhing underneath Rio's touch, while simultaneously admiring the backyard view. An ink-colored sky served as a gorgeous back drop, for the glowy lit infinity pool, in the distance was twinkling lights from buildings near the coastal beach. It was truly a sight to see. Angel snapped back to reality when she felt a firm hand, cradle her chin.

"Where'd you go?" Rio asked. His Coca-Cola colored eyes stared back at her. His head tipped to side, long eye lashes fluttering against the tops of cheeks as he blinked.

His gaze was heavy was lust, completely unrelenting. Its intensity caused Angel to squirm in her seated position. A warmth bloomed underneath her skin as she rubbed at the part of her neck Rio just was. It was still wet from his kisses.

"N-nowhere, baby," Angel stammered.

Slowly, Rio lips curled into a half smile.

"Good," Rio nodded his head as his gaze traveled down to Angel's chest, zeroing in on the exposed skin the peeked through her top, "now take this shit off. I wanna see them titties, Nena."

Completely under his spell, Angel quickly took of her top, leaving her in a lacy, cerulean colored bra, her mini skirt, and a pair of thoroughly soaked panties. Immediately Rio, hand's palmed at Angel's breasts, rubbing and squeezing them. A soft moan escaped her lips, as Rio's lips latched onto one of nipples.

"Yes, baby," Angel sighed, her hands cradled Rio's head close to her. His tongue alternated between soft flicks and harsh sucks at her left nipple. He released her nipple with a pop and went to the right nipple, repeating the same thing, "Fuck, baby, just like that. Shit!"

Angel could feel the wetness pool inside of her panties, as her clit began to throb. She needed Rio, real bad.

"Damn," Rio breathed out. He pulled away from Angel's chest, while his large hands rubbed at her ample thighs. His lips curled into a wicked smile as he admired his handywork. Angel's boobs glistened with sweat, as her hardened nipples stood at full attention, with spit dripping from them, "I missed them titties, girl. Fuck, I need to that pussy too. Lift up for me."

Angel obliged. Rio supported her with one hand, while with the other, slipping off her mini skirt and panties. He tossed the skirt to the floor, while he pocketed her panties. A storm swirled in his eyes, a thick haze of lust, as he admired Angel's, wet, glistening, pussy.

"I dunno if I can wait, mama," Rio rasped. He brought a finger to Angel's core, swiping at her wetness, and brought it back to his lips, sucking on it, "You taste good, mama. All this shit for me?"

Angel nodded. "Yes, it's all for you baby,"

Wordlessly, Rio plunged his fingers inside of Angel, who let out a yelp in response. He quickly fell back into old habits, fucking Angel with his fingers, just the way she liked it.

"Yeaaahhh, just like that," Rio rasped, he bent down and licked at her lips, "Be a good girl and fuck my fingers back," Angel whined loudly, following his instructions, lifting her hips slight and fucked his thick, fingers.

"Fuck! I'm close baby!"

"I gotchu, mama. Fuck, I feel you on my fingers. You gonna let me take care of you, huh? I'll give you anything you want mama, fuck, you being so good for me. Cum for me, darlin',"

And she did. Angel's eyes squeezed shut as she gushed over his fingers. A string of curses and pleases slipped from Angel's lips as Rio continued to fuck her through her orgasm. She could feel the cum slipping down her thighs.

"Mi alma, you look so good cummin' for me," Rio praised her. He captured her lips and kissed her sweetly. His tongue swirled around in her mouth as mimicking the move with his fingers. Angel pulled away from him, mewling.

"Riooooo, fuck, slow down baby,"

Rio landed a firm smack on Angel's ass. He cradled Angel's chin bringing her eyes towards him. His eyes hardened a bit, still holding its lustful haze, now a bit possessiveness broke through. Rio crooked his fingers, slowing down his pace just a tad, but driving into Angel's pussy much harsher and deeper.

"Fuck, I say about that shit," He growled.

"Shit! Baby, I-I'm s-sorry," Angel whimpered. Her mind flickered back to them making out in the car, he only to wanted to her his name, his real one, "Christopher, 's too much,"

A look of pure satisfaction bloomed across Rio's face. Got her.

"Just one more, mama. Be a good girl for me," Rio sunk down to knees, he slowly placed small kisses at Angel's inner thighs. He worshiped the plushness of her thighs, while Angel writhed and whined. He inched closer, spreading Angel's thighs further apart. He admired how she dripped around his fingers. "Fuck, mama I want you to cum on my tongue, 'k?"

Rio kept his eyes on Angel as he licked at her entrance, swirling his tongue around his fingers, continuing on until he reached her clit. Rio pressed a soft kiss to Angel's clit.

"Christopher!" Angel shouted.

Rio worked in tandem, his long fingers plunged in and out of Angel's, while his tongue swirled around her clit, flicking at the sensitive bud. Angel's hands rubbed at the soft hair of Rio's buzzcut, while the familiar thrumming of her orgasm quickly approached.

"Christopher, fuck, I'm soooo close,"

Rio pulled back, "Say it again,"

"Christopher,”

“Again,”

“Christopher, Christopher, Christopherrrrr, keep fuckin’ me, I’m so close,”

Rio grinned as he returned to her pussy. He latched onto her clit, sucking so harshly, Angel for sure believe that it was going to be bruised. His fingers fucked her even faster, as she clenched around them, as Rio French-kissed her pussy. He was completely relentless, wanting to see her cum, again, again, and again. With one last, harsh suck at her clit, Angel, exploded. She screamed in pleasure as she rode out her orgasm. Rio rose up, slowly pumping his fingers, before pulling out.

"Did so good for me," He mumbled against her cheek, holding her close as Angel rode out the aftershocks.

“I love you so much, baby,” Angel whispered in his ear.

Rio captured her lips again, kissing Angel. He licked at her mouth, allowing Angel to taste herself. Rio arms snaked around Angel's torso, and with ease, managed to throw her over his shoulder. Angel giggled and kicked her feet and Rio moved to the stairs.

"Baby! What are you doing?"

"It's time for the real show to start, Nena," Rio teased, he playfully smacked her ass, "You ready for me?"

"Always."

#siribaesfics #rio x reader #rio x black!reader #rio x blackfem!reader #rio x blackcurvy!reader #good girls fanfiction #black fanfiction #poc fanfiction

613 notes · View notes