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#and the idea of putting on clothes for work makes me want to curl in a ball and die
girlscience · 9 months
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lack of sleep makes me weird
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coryosbaby · 5 months
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ꜰᴜᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴘ !
♡ content warning . dubious consent, mentions of drugging, sex work, breeding kink, cum play, weird usage of condoms, dom! Coryo
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You didn’t know how you ended up like this.
Being an escort wasn’t an easy job. There were times when you were completely disgusted at the men who approached you (if not all of them). Coriolanus was supposed to be a normal client— someone that would fuck and go. Even with his ranking, you never suspected that he would… keep you.
You had had a few weird clients— some asked for the most vulgar, filthy things. Some of them followed you around before your boss had told them off.
But none of them have ever took you home.
You usually weren’t this stupid, this hazy minded, but Coriolanus had scooped you up with his wit and his charm and a bottle of something you hadn’t had before the economy went downhill. You had heard of him— of course you had—- the powerful, handsome, and extremely intelligent, Coriolanus Snow. And before you knew it you were being tossed onto his king sized bed and his tongue was scraping against the roof of your open mouth. You didn’t even have time to gape in drunken wonder at his enormous bedroom— all you could think about was the cock gliding in between your legs, meaty and thick and wet. He had become completely bare to you, regardless of your opposing position. You were still clothed in your pink floral dress and your basic cotton panties.
Coriolanus’ lips grazed over your jugular, his tongue nipping at your skin. You had never been this hot for anyone, especially not a client. Your panties were soaking, your clit was throbbing and you needed to cum. What was happening to you?
“Cor…” you tried to slur out, as your eyelashes fluttered.
“I know.”
His voice was incredibly gentle, and his big hands groped your tits through your dress. He lifted up the hem, made sure to expose your panties to him, and groaned. You could feel his precum smear against your thigh as he ground his aching member against you.
“Can’t even say my name, can you?” Coriolanus continues. “I have an idea. You can just call me Coryo. Short enough for your little brain to remember, yeah?”
Coryo. It was a nice name. A perfect name.
You moaned out when you felt the cool air hit the peaks of your puffy and swollen nipples. Coriolanus—Coryo— was peeling your dress off of your body. When the fabric was thrown across the room his mouth latched to one of your nipples. You mewled, hands going up to grasp his blonde curls, your chest very sensitive all of a sudden. You could feel that familiar organ probing at your folds, and— when did he put a condom on? You didn’t know, but relief would’ve coursed through you if you weren’t so aroused that you were practically drooling.
“Want it,” you whined out, scraping his scalp with desperation. “Coryo. Please.”
Huffing out a laugh, he reached down and wrapped his hand around his shaft. He gave it a few tugs, made sure the precum pearled over and made a sticky white stain on the inside of the latex. He used the tip to part your pussy lips and find your hole. He pushed in, slow at first, but your pussy was so wet from whatever he slipped in your cup that it was almost easy. Even with his overwhelming size, your cunt accepted his cock greedily, sucking him inside your tight canal. Coryo groaned, practically going cross eyed at the feeling of your warm, wet pussy.
“Never had a cunt so tight,” he grunted against you. “even with all the men you sell yourself to, you’re still squeezing me like a fucking vice, sweetness.”
Your mouth dropped open, his words making you impossibly hornier. Usually you would be offended by such a vile statement, but his big cock was throbbing and wading through your walls with such precision that it had your legs shaking.
And Coriolanus had this charisma about him— something that made his words even more powerful than most. And after that statement, he just kept talking.
“Oh, Angel. My good, special girl,” his thrusts were impossibly fast now, the plap plap plap of his balls slapping against your sore and raw fucked pussy making you cry. “You’re mine now.”
His. His, his, his. Your fingernails dug into him, his chest touching yours sending tingles all throughout your body, and he kept spewing out dirty innuendos. You never thought being fucked could feel this good. His fingers reached down and rubbed your swollen clit, and it was like magic, the way your pussy spasmed and your orgasm washed over you. Seizing up, you mewled out his name as you came on him.
Coryo was mesmerized by your cunt squeezing him so tightly. Your pretty folds, lips spread out and wet, your hole sucking him in like he was meant to be there, like he was meant to fuck his cum into your womb, it was all so much. No amount of classism could keep him from you. Not after this. District or not, he would make you his gorgeous little wife. He would give you everything, love for you, kill for you. With the thought of this possession towards you, his hips began to stutter. Your eyes were closed, but you were still humping yourself against his awaiting thrusts. His balls drew taught, and he could feel his awaiting cum begin to flood the condom wrapped around his length.
No. No, no, no. This wasn’t right.
Not to Coriolanus. Not now— your pussy needed to be fucked full of his hot cum. You needed to be bred. And he was going to keep you and make sure of it.
Coriolanus watched your fluttering eyelids, the small smile grazing your features as his thrusts slowed. Something primal coursed through him, and he slowly pulled himself out of you. Watching your gaping hole made his cock twitch again, and he used his fingers to slowly twist the condom off of his cock. Full of his cum, he spread your lips with two fingers and turned the latex upside down. His spend dropped out of it and onto your used little hole, and you whimpered out as his cum splashed against your cunt.
“Coryo? What’r you doing?”
“Just getting you nice and wet for me, little bird. Close your eyes.. let me fuck you again.”
And like clockwork, his cock was probing your entrance for a second time— his sticky cum being pushed into your fertile womb by the tip of his pink mushroomed tip, his balls making more seed for your perfect pussy, and he was claiming your spent body with everything he had. <33
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nadvs · 1 month
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cam girl (part eleven)
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
content warning alcohol use
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summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.
» masterlist
*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*
Rafe has never had a hangover this bad. The sharp ache hammering against his temples is relentless.
He feels absolutely fucking finished. Last night, he passed out on whoever hosted the party’s floor, so not only is his head a mess, but his back is sore as fuck.
And the black eye doesn’t feel so good, either.
Even after last night’s aggravating argument with you and the embarrassing drunk texts he sent and this residual hangover from hell, when Rafe gets home in the late morning and finds you curled up in his bed, he feels better.
His head always does this when he’s around you. It’s like the whole world is nothing but fucking noise but with you, the loud turns quiet.
He still doesn’t know how you do that.
Rafe peels his clothes off, takes a hot shower, brushes his teeth and puts on new boxers… and he comes back to see you still passed out on his bed.
You must be exhausted. He feels the usual warm and incomprehensible buzz in his chest when he looks at you, even though he’s mad at you.
Rafe settles in his bed half-naked, slow not to wake you.
He’s half-asleep, fighting the ridiculous urge to turn around and hold you, when he feels you finally shift behind him. He turns to look at you and hates how his first thought is that you look pretty. He’s supposed to be pissed off at you.
He has no idea what the fuck happened last night. Why you made him feel like you’re sick of him all of a sudden.
“Crap,” you whisper as you sit up, realizing where you are and dropping eye contact with him immediately.
“Thought you needed a break from me,” Rafe mutters. “Why are you in my bed?”
He didn’t intend for his words to come out so sharp.
“I didn’t… mean to fall asleep.” You don’t even look at him. “You don’t have to be a dick about it.”
You’re about to get out of his bed and Rafe is powerless to his impulses like he always is around you. His hand circles your wrist, pulling you back.
You drop to sit on the edge of the bed and he can tell you’re annoyed by the way you look up at the ceiling and sigh. He remains on his back, the pain radiating through him keeping him from sitting up.
“I have work to do,” you say, still refusing to meet his eyes.
“Did we go too long last night?” Rafe asks, needing to know why you’re so cold, why you’re done with him all of a sudden. “Is that why you’re being like this? That shit was your fucking idea.”
That stupid toy you got was what kept him from cumming for so damn long. He was fucking you for ages. Maybe it was much for you. He can’t think of what else could have compelled you to say you want a break.
“I’m obviously tired, Rafe,” you breathe. “In every possible way. Just let me…”
Your words fade into nothing once you look at him. He sees the same concerned expression you wore when you towelled the raindrops off of his face last night.
“What happened?” you ask, your voice soft.
He knows how rough he looks; he saw himself in the mirror this morning. His right eye is covered with an ugly purple splotch that spreads down to his cheekbone. Evidence of the fight he got into last night. He doesn’t want to think about it.
So, he resorts to what he does best and tries to suffocate the feeling with sex.
“You wanna make me feel better?” he asks suggestively, cocking his head. He hopes he has the effect on you that he usually does.
You’re motionless, your eyes still hard on his face. Okay. Now he’s fucking desperate.
“Please?”
Did he really just say that?
The corner of your lips curl up into a small smile. He’s embarrassed, but thank fuck you don’t look angry anymore.
“Are you… begging me?” you ask. Your voice is back to that playful tone he’s used to.
His hand is still curled around your wrist, tense that you’ll try to leave again.
“Come here,” he says.
“How bad do you want me?” you tease. He loathes when you fuck with him like this. But why does he kind of like it, too?
He only says your name in warning, even though he knows he doesn’t have the power here.
It’s so goddamn frustrating. He’s used to you doing what he wants. But after last night, after you mentioned a break, he realized he needs to feel needed by you. You’re the one actually in control here.
“I’m all you think about, right?” you goad him. “According to your text?”
Rafe pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand. It’s humiliating how he typed out everything he was feeling last night.
“I was drunk,” he says defensively. Your smile drops and you start to twist your wrist out of his grip. Shit. Wrong thing to say. “But, yeah,” he adds. “You are.”
“You’re only saying that to get laid,” you murmur.
“I’m not,” he admits. He takes a breath. “All I do is… wait until the next time I can see you.”
Rafe’s not looking at you as he stammers his way through his words.
“That’s what you meant last night?” you ask him. He thinks back to the way he had you bent over the table, stupidly saying he’s the one who always has to wait.
He needs to fuck. Now. He can’t take this feelings shit.
Once he finally meets your eyes again, he’s relieved to see that your stare has softened. You turn to move towards him and his muscles immediately lose their tension.
You straddle him and the way your thighs box him in like this feels so fucking good that he forgets he’s hungover.
You start to grind against him and the thrilling promise of satisfaction washes over him, his boxers getting tighter as he gets harder.
“Does this help?” you whisper. He watches you through low lids, his hands on your thighs.
“Yeah, like that,” he groans. “Good girl.”
He slides his hands up to grip your waist and beckons you to lean over so he can kiss you, but you stiffen and reject the advance. Whatever. You must still be kind of pissed off, but he’s not about to stop what’s happening.
You sit up straighter and pull your dress up over your body, tossing it on the floor.
Rafe’s eyes hungrily trail down your body. Every time he sees your body or even just thinks about it, arousal burns through him.
He hates the feeling of you getting off of him, but once he realizes you’re taking off your panties and straddling him to fuck him in reverse cowgirl, his head feels like it’s spinning.
The sight of your bare ass perched on his pelvis is mind-blowing. He feels you pull down his boxers just enough to take his cock out, your hand running up and down his length.
You stroke him to get him fully erect, which barely takes any time. He gets hard for you in seconds.
When you lower onto him, he exhales in pure elation. You’re so wet and tight and soft and the moan you let out when you fill yourself with him is so fucking pretty.
You finally put all your weight on his hips, your hands stabilizing yourself on his knees. It’s heaven the way you squeeze him so damn tight.
You start to rock on him and his eyes drink in the way his cock is burying into you, the way your pussy looks stretched out like this.
Rafe looks over at the mirror mounted on his closet door to watch you arch your back and start to bounce on him. He doesn’t know which vantage point is hotter.
“Fuck,” he whispers. “Look how fucking good you look.”
You meet his eyes in the mirror, your lips puckered as you hold back your moans. That look is for him only. He can’t stand the thought of you doing it for another man.
He watches you put your hand on your clit, touching yourself while you ride him. There’s something so fucking hot to him about how you know your body and how you shamelessly chase your own pleasure.
Rafe looks forward again, taking in the way your ass is bouncing on him, the way your back is curved, the way your cunt is clinging to his cock with every recoil.
He feels himself getting to the edge. He shuts his eyes in an attempt to delay it so you’ll get there first. Cumming will remind you of how good this arrangement between you is and you’ll forget this stupid ‘take a break’ idea.
You start to writhe even faster and breathe even quicker. He knows he’ll finish before you at this rate, so he buries his fingertips into your hips and holds you down to stop you from moving anymore.
“Why?” you whine, needy.
“Sit on my face,” he orders.
You lift your hips off of him, his cock popping out of you, glossed with your wetness. You obey and shift back on your knees.
You lower your core onto his mouth. Rafe fucking loves the way you taste. He puts his lips on you, rolling his tongue out over your velvet folds.
When he feels your hot mouth wrap around his cock, he exhales sharply. He sucks and licks you as he revels in the feeling of your tongue flicking up and down his length.
The way you’re pleasing each other at the same time makes his stomach tighten with something he’s still not used to. His body hasn’t ever reacted like this during sex, but it keeps doing this lately with you.
Rafe shoves away the thought.
He hooks his arm around you, dipping two fingers inside and curling them as he eats you out, eager to get you to cum.
Your breath is shaky, your hole tightening around his fingers. The way you looked at him when you told him you needed a break last night flashes through his mind again, pissing him off all over again.
“Nobody else can make you feel like this, hmm?” he mutters, his lips wet from you.
“Rafe…” Your voice is thin.
“Answer me.”
“No,” you tell him.
“And you want a break?” he huffs. “Do I need to fuck some sense into you?”
You’re silent, your mouth sliding up and down his cock, palming him. Frustration rises in him when you don’t answer. He needs the control. He needs to know how badly you want him.
“Do I?” he asks angrily, fingers slipping out of you to slap your ass. Your back arches at the impact, bucking up off of his face. “Do you need to watch me fuck you to get it through your head?”
Rafe pushes through the stiffness of his hangover to press against the backs of your thighs, forcing you to sit up.
“Get on your knees,” he says. “In front of the mirror.”
You groan out of irritation, but you listen to his instructions like the good girl he knows you are.
His eyes remain locked on you as you get up off of him and settle on all fours in front of the mirror on the floor, looking back at him with those beautiful eyes.
Rafe guides himself into you, finding bliss all over again. He lustfully looks at your reflection and sees the necklace he gave you hanging on your neck. It starts to swing as he thrusts into you, a reminder of how you belong to him.
Every plunge into you is fucking perfect. You squeeze his cock so nicely.
When you tighten around him, your breath hitched, he has no chance of stopping himself anymore - he cums at the same time as you, his moan tangling with yours.
Rafe can see stars as you tremble beneath him. He feels you take in everything he has to offer.
“Damn,” he says gruffly. He can’t stop himself from teasing you. “Sleeping and fucking on the clock. You’re looking to get fired.”
You let out a weak laugh and pull away from him. You stand to pick your uniform up off the floor, giving him another view of your hot, quivering body.
“Tell on me, then,” you challenge. You walk to his ensuite, shutting the door behind you. He’s sure that you know he’d never risk letting you get fired and losing this access to you.
Rafe’s heart is racing. How does every time he has sex with you feel better than the last?
He gets back into bed and pulls his cool comforter over his bare body, coming down from the high. He’s needs to figure out why the hell you’re retreating from him. And he’s determined to show you why you shouldn’t.
But with the hangover and lack of rest, Rafe falls asleep before you step back out into his room.
୨ᰔ୧
You couldn’t let Rafe kiss you. You’ll allow that sort of tenderness if, and only if, you’re more than a sex toy to him, and all signs point to that possibility being a big, ugly no.
When you step back into his bedroom to see that he fell asleep, you take a second, just a second, to look at him.
His lips are slightly pursed, his hair a tousled mess. The bruise on his swollen eye looks painful. You wish you knew what happened. You figure you’ll ask him tonight when he inevitably comes over.
As you make your way to the kitchen, the rush from the sex you just had starts to dissipate and you realize you shouldn’t have done it. You have heavy, unavoidable feelings for Rafe. You said you needed a break. Giving into the temptation was stupid.
But the way he was looking at you, holding your wrist… You couldn’t ignore the magnetic pull you seem to have for each other.
The self-destructive hope flares up as you think about what he said today. It rattled you. He thinks about you? He’s always waiting to see you again? It can’t all be sexual, can it?
You’re desperate to know what’s going through his mind.
You begrudgingly accept that because of the time you spent sleeping and having sex with Rafe, you’ll need to stay late to complete all your tasks today.
After finishing up your work in the kitchen an hour later, you head out to the backyard to throw out a few bags.
You give a polite smile to the gardener, who’s standing by the gazebo. Your mind flashes back to what happened when Rafe caught you talking to him.
Rafe’s possessiveness couldn’t possibly be purely sexual. Not after the way he looked at you once you reassured him he was the only man who could touch you.
You drop the bags in the bin and turn to head back inside, but get stopped in your tracks.
“You should be careful.”
You look up to realize the gardener is speaking to you. Your brows furrow in confusion.
“What?” you ask.
“I overheard him talking about you.“
“Sorry?” you repeat.
“The son. I heard him.” Anxiety fills your veins. He wouldn’t know Rafe’s name - he’s just the son of the millionaire you’re all working for.
He heard Rafe say something about you? You decide to play dumb. You have to. You could lose your job.
“What are you talking about?” you ask.
“He was with his friends out on the balcony a few days ago,” he says. “I was working and I heard him say that he’s… uh, nailing a maid.”
The word seems to make him uncomfortable. You’re so used to Rafe’s vulgarity that you forgot some people blush at a crude word.
Honestly, you expected Rafe to brag to his friends about fucking you. But you didn’t expect a coworker to hear.
You remember watching him through the window that day. Sending him that explicit video. Slowly developing feelings for him when you knew you shouldn’t.
“What, and you think it’s me?” you say with a laugh. Maybe there’s a chance you can convince him that Rafe was lying or that the conversation wasn’t about you.
“People have been talking… Apparently you got caught in the laundry room?” he says.
Shit. All that other maid saw was Rafe in the same room as you. That was it. You didn’t expect to make friends at this job, but this is ridiculous. Do they have nothing better to do but gossip?
You’ve been found out.
“Please don’t… say anything,” you finally say quietly. “I can’t lose this job.”
“I won’t. And I’m not judging,” he says, but he definitely is. You can see it in his expression. “Just wanted to tell you that I heard some… bad stuff.”
“What?” You cross your arms, feigning confidence.
“He told his friends that you’ll do anything he wants you to,” he says. “And that you never say no.”
“Okay,” you say. You’re trying to keep your gaze steady. This is humiliating. But it’s all true and not a surprise. You didn’t expect any better from Rafe.
“And one of them said something like… that’s the type of… um…” He looks nervous again.
“Just say it.”
“The type of… slut you run through then drop when she gets boring.”
This is what finally breaks you. You only nod, trying to seem unaffected.
“What did he say to that?” you ask. You hate that you have a little bit of hope that Rafe would defend you, show a shred of respect for you.
“They all just laughed.”
Your heart sinks.
Of course that’s what Rafe thinks of you. Of course to him, you’re just a whore that he’ll get tired of eventually. You shouldn’t have ever given him the power to disappoint you.
For fuck’s sake, you asked him point blank over text last night if all he wants to do is fuck and he replied with a clear YES.
“Okay,” you say, turning away before he can see the tears welling up in your eyes.
“Sorry. Thought you’d want to know,” he says to your back. “These rich guys are all assholes.”
“Yup,” you reply, walking away.
You don’t even give a fuck about your job anymore. It’d be better if you lost it so you don’t have to see Rafe ever again.
This is fucking agony. You feel so dehumanized.
When you make it home that evening, two hours later than usual, you type a text you mentally drafted on your drive home.
You open the conversation with one of your close friends from college and text her: hey, are there any parties tonight?
Getting drunk and partying is not a healthy way to cope, you know that, but you desperately need to get your mind off of things. Thankfully, your friend responds quickly about a party at a frat house on campus.
After you get ready, you take a cab to the address your friend sent you. It doesn’t take you long to find her and start downing shots.
Your phone buzzes, right on cue. It’s 10 pm, after all. He’s waiting for you on that depraved website where it all began. The text is blurry through your tipsy eyes.
Rafe: where are you?
You finally send him the message you’ve been toiling over, anger and disgust and embarrassment and sadness heavy on your chest.
You: i’m done. this is over. i’m not even a fucking person to you am i
{ read part twelve here }
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ma1dita · 1 month
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its 10pm again.... 😈😈
rivals with benefits Luke who makes everything a competition. even in bed. 😼
IM ALSO SO SORRY FOR FLOODING UR INBOX
MDNI
🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥
a/n: liv we're boxing because i literally could not rest until i got this right,,,, smut. public sex. wrap before you tap. creampie. all the nasty things. fuck man...
wc: 968
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“That’s a point for me,” Luke says with a menacing grin. The both of you are soaked to the bone after paddling across Canoe Lake to see who could make it to the other end the fastest, and as you gasp for air while holding onto the wood post of the pier, you can’t help but somehow be convinced that he cheated.
“You’re built like a frog with those long legs of yours, how the fuck was I supposed to win?”
Daybreak spreads slowly across Camp Half-Blood, sunlight kissing where the sky meets the water and Luke thinks he wants to kiss you. Knows it, actually—deep down to his bones that the line between hatred and love must be lust.
He swims closer to you like a predator creeping toward his prey, wet curls stuck to his forehead as he admires how hard you’re breathing. You’re right there, and since you like to make a competition of everything from capture the flag strategies to how many campers you both can get to screech at nightly sing-a-longs, he thinks he has an offer you won’t be able to resist. Luke’s hands glide under your shirt as the both of you tread water, still fighting for dominance even when it comes to who takes up the most space to stay afloat. You lick your lips, fingers tugging at his camp necklace as you look at him curiously and raise an eyebrow.
“I’ve got an idea…”
“I’ll start my prayers,” you smirk, before seeing the hot burning want in his gaze. You can feel it in his fingers as they brush the underside of your breasts, nipples stiff in the frigid water. Shaking your head, a nervous giggle leaves you as your arms circle his neck, bodies separated by your thin, sopping nightshirt. If he touches the rest of you, he’ll find other parts that are wet too, warm enough to brave the chill of the morning breeze that settles upon your shoulders.
“The nymphs might see…” you whisper, even though the both of you know not a single soul is awake right now but time is running out like sand in an hourglass.
“You backing down?”
The kiss you press into his open mouth is a clear enough answer—tongues sliding and spearing against each other, hot and angry and bruising. It’s a fair shot, not knowing who’s going to come out on top.
“Oh, gods, please!”
Your hands and knees are scraping in the rocks and sand of the shoreline underneath the pier as Luke pistons into you at an alarming rate, each thrust a blow to your senses. He watches your head bob up towards the sky almost in reverent prayer and he’s grinning, continually sinking into your warmth while the rest of him shudders from the cold. Luke’s cock works inside your slick hole instead of against it, and he laughs at the irony of you finally letting him have his way. Your fingernails dig into the coarse beach, grains of sand making their way through every crevice as he fills your pulsing one with glee.
“Fucking knew you’d behave…” he grunts, one hand pulling at the thin cloth around your waist and the other holds onto your stomach so he can feel himself bludgeon you from the inside. “Can’t fight back when you’re getting your brains fucked out, hmm?” 
He watches your pretty tits swing from the stretched out opening of your soggy shirt as you choke out a sob of pleasure.
“Yes…f-fuck Luke,” you whine, reaching back to ease your hand against his abdomen but he pulls it behind your back to use as a better hold on you. Luke puts two of his fingers in your mouth and they prod at the skin of your cheek, spit dripping around the digits.
Despite the intrusion, you’re groaning loud enough over the icy smacks against your skin that for a moment he thinks it might actually wake the forest nymphs, but then he’s distracted by your pussy pushing and pulling him as his hips clap against your ass, leaving them raw for days to come. Light waves crash against the shore with your movements, splashing against your knees and you’re giggling at him with a dazed grin as you push your hips back harder against his thrusts, overpowering his control over you. 
He swallows thickly, groaning through the building sensation in his stomach as you rock back onto his cock faster and with the purpose of taking him down and winning. The both of you work in tandem as you writhe against each other in a battle to reach the end, unsure of if you’re with him or against him but gods, it feels so fucking good being under him.
“M’so close…Don’t fucking stop,” you shudder, and Luke shuts his eyes hard and takes a deep breath. Even if all 12 Olympians came down right now to smite him he wouldn’t be able to pull out. 
So he doesn’t. 
He couldn’t even if he tried—he cums so hard, his front meeting your back as you fall into the sand with a muffled yelp and he’s pumping thick rods of his release into your pussy. You shiver under him slightly until you realize your belly is warm from his efforts.
“That’s gotta be like 5 or 10 points,” Luke pants, nipping at your shoulder before he sits up. You’re laying there, ass up and motionless so he slaps a cheek before you start laughing.
“For me. At least you came,” you drone, having been on the brink of an orgasm.
He couldn’t argue with that. So he flips you onto your back and eats you out (sand and slick and all) until he’s ready again and by the time the morning bell rings, you’ve both lost track of who’s won your so-called competition.
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maitadori · 1 year
Text
WRAPPED AROUND YOUR FINGER sfw jing yuan x afab!reader
word count : 1.1k
content / cw : fluff, suggestive, making out, smug and teasing jing yuan, cutie yanqing
summary : being the general’s secretary is such a piece of work. why does he insist on getting handsy instead of doing his job? or: in which jing yuan has fallen for his emotionally constipated assistant and your lips look too inviting.
a/n: DISCLAIMERRR!!!! as a poc with melanin, whenever i describe the reader’s face as “hot” that is up for interpretation, it doesn’t necessarily mean i’m saying your cheeks are red. just wanted to put that out there have this piece until i can try to conjure up ideas for weak willed cloud knight mwah mwah
DARK CONTENT BLOGS PLZ DNI!!!
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“general.” you enter the room with a stack of papers in hand, trying your best not to groan when you already see a pile of undone documents sitting there. you expected as much, yet you still sighed in disappointment every time.
your general— who was on the verge of falling asleep— immediately perks up at the familiar click of your shoes as you walk into his office.
“[name], you’re here,” he sighs out, almost fondly. you ignore it in favor of giving him a scolding look.
“you haven’t done a thing since i left this morning, general. do i need to hold your hand through every single file?” your eyes are fierce and your mouth is molded into a frown. jing yuan can’t help but savor your features despite that.
in response to you, he mutters out wistfully, “maybe you do.”
you roll your eyes and set down his papers, right next to the other stack. “general, you can’t keep slacking off like this. lady fu xuan might sweep your position from right under your nose if you keep this up.”
“does that mean i get to spend all of my free time with you?” he ignores your words in favor of bringing you in by the waist. you grip his wrist and try your hardest to pry it off of you.
“don’t you do that already?!” your expression is flushed and he revels in it. even though you try to act and look angry, he notices the subtle way you lean into him.
he reels you into him, bringing you around his desk to where he’s sitting behind in his chair, making you stand between his legs. you’re tugged into his chest and you stop yourself from toppling into his lap by hastily pressing your hands against his collarbones.
“general! you are so inappropriate!!” your tone is scolding.
jing yuan sighs, a faux look of sorrow painting his features, “didn’t i tell you to call me jing yuan?” his voice has a small adoring tone to it, something that you don’t feel like digging deep into at the moment, aware of what you might uncover.
“didnt i tell you that’s improper of me? i’m your subordinate. what would people think if i called you by your given name? they’d suspect you favor me.” you shook your head in exasperation, sighing once more— you seemed to do that a lot in his presence.
“but you are my favorite, if they suspected anything of the sort they’d be absolutely correct,” he says, tugging on your formal wear. you stammer, putting your hand over his in a feeble way to stop him.
“could you shut up for once?!” you exclaim, yet in a whispery voice in fear of others who walk by hear.
“hmm?” he asks slyly, a smirk curling his lips.
“d—do your damn work! if you do, i promise to call you by your name.” by your face expression, jing yuan could tell this is taking a lot out of you and you’re extremely embarrassed. he would feel bad if he didn’t find you so adorable.
“will you let me kiss you, too?” he leans up into your lips.
“that’s definitely asking for too much!!!” you exclaim, face hot, and no longer worried about who might be outside this door.
but as he rubs circles into the fabric of your clothing, his breath hitting your cheeks, his lips nearing yours by the moment, your will is beginning to falter. before you can even realize what you’re doing, your eyes are slipping shut as your hands are sliding up to his shoulders.
“after this i’ll do my work, okay? i promise,” jing yuan whispers. from that alone, you’re nearly broken out of your trance, but before a word is able to leave your mouth his lips lock with yours.
he’s humming into the kiss, showing his obvious satisfaction. your face is warm and you reciprocate the kiss eagerly, almost embarrassed by the fervor.
you were really kissing your general.
he was nibbling your lips, pinching your waist to get access to your mouth, making your mind mush. you couldn’t believe this was happening.
jing yuan is stealing the breath straight from your lungs, and they’re replaced with breathy whimpers. his tongue is leaving no place in your mouth untouched, but by then, you’re already putty in his hold.
you can’t conjure up a single coherent thought, all protests from before becoming blurred and pushed to the back of your mind. his hand is at the seams of your top, his cold fingertips ghosting under it to ease his hands onto your warm skin. you shiver in anticipation.
his thumb rubs your waist before it slowly trails up to the fringe of your bra. he’s caressing the skin under it slowly, building you up for the moment his hand ventures under. you’re leaning into him further, trying to subtly goad him into giving in.
he smirks into the kiss, thumb sliding under the hem. but a loud, eager knock makes you both jolt apart.
before you can even comprehend the situation fully, you’re already backing away from him and adjusting your clothing, smoothening everything over.
jing yuan is watching you fondly, a tinge of smugness swimming beneath his eyes.
“state your name and business.” he calls out, eyes still on you.
“it’s yanqing, sir!”
you’re making eye contact with him now, your expression filled with flushed fury. “i cant believe you!” you whisper shouted before grabbing the small hand mirror that yanqing left on his desk to check your appearance.
your eyes nearly bulge out of your sockets once you catch sight of your swollen lips. “y—you..! how— i..!!! ugh!!!” you sputter, pointing between yourself and your general before giving up.
your general does nothing but chuckle at your misery. “i got too carried away.”
“don’t you always!?” you growl, your finger against your lips as you somehow try to get rid of the red puffiness.
“general?” yanqing calls from outside.
due to your conversation, you both nearly forgot he was even there.
before jing yuan could call him in, you’re stalking towards the door. your hand grabs the handle, but before you pull it open, you look back to your general who’s smirking. “you better do your work, jing yuan. or this will never happen again!” you both sensed the lie in your tone, but one of you was too surprised to point it out.
you were only given a mere second to revel in his baffled look before you walked out, letting yanqing in.
“[name]!” yanqing calls happily. “can i come over to your place tonight?” he asks, face glowing.
you smile, patting his head. “of course you can. i’ll cook your favorite too, alright?”
yanqing cheers, “alright!! i’ll train as hard as i can, so can you please make dessert too?”
you give him a noise of confirmation, smiling at his joy before you’re walking off.
jing yuan could only watch the scene in envy, glaring down yanqing as he practically skips into the office humming a tune of “[name]’s making me dessert~”.
yanqing turns to his general, brow quirking at his troubled expression.
“what got your panties in a twist?”
“nothing.” he grits out. you had the audacity to call him by his name in your beautiful alluring voice, and invite yanqing to your house, in front of him!! next time he saw you it was more than your lips he was taking for his own.
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a/n : anyone wanna be added to my jing yuan taglist? he’s been growing on me a lot so expect more of him too ^v^
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azsazz · 6 months
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Midnight Muse
Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]
Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 1,804
Notes: This is going to be a good one you guys 💙 (yes I know I have a fic titled this already but it’s too good not to reuse, they’re not related btw)
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“I think that’s the last one,” you sigh, setting down a cardboard box labeled Living Room on the stack in the middle of the floor. It’s not heavy—filled with decorative pillows for the cheap futon couch shoved haphazardly against the wall—but the tower of boxes sways precariously and your roommate, Feyre, darts forward to reorganize them from before they all go tumbling down.
You and your roommate had been very organized at the start of your move, putting boxes into piles for which rooms they belonged to, but as the hot sun beamed down and the temperature outside rose, so did your tempers. The process ended with trying to get everything into your new fourth floor apartment as quickly as possible, which was a nearly impossible feat, due to the slow moving elevator.
Feyre sighs, hands on her hips as she surveys the mess of boxes. Neither of you packed lightly—a mistake you’d made the year previous too, and promised not to make again—the both of you refused to hire a moving service, intent on the fact that you could do all the heavy lifting yourselves. 
That definitely had been a mistake.
Panting a little, Feyre shoves the strands of gold-brown hairs clinging to her forehead away, sticky with sweat. The hairs at her nape curl away from her neck, and you’re so glad that she grew out those awful bangs over the summer. Now you don’t have to listen to her complain about how they’d be plastered to her head with sweat. The loose collar of her cropped shirt is damp, and she uses the hem to wipe at the perspiration beading at her hairline. “Fucking finally,” she moans, “I need a drink.”
“Alcoholic or energy?” you tease, but it’s not funny. You’re drained, and all you want to do is collapse on the navy futon that barely fits two, no matter how uncomfortable it is. But you’re hot, clothes irritating your skin from where they’re glued with sweat and your arms and legs burn with effort. A cold shower, tall glass of something icy, and a few hours napping will do you well. A grimace works its way onto your red face, “Tell me there’s air conditioning in this place.”
“Already on,” Feyre sighs, stalking into the kitchen. You follow after her, dodging boxes, and watch as she rips open the refrigerator door and shoves her head inside. It’s completely empty and you wince, knowing that it’s going to be a long weekend while you go shopping and unpack everything before the fall semester starts in a week.
You want to stop by the local art supply too, to gather the last of the material you need for your classes this year. It’s probably why you and Feyre have so many boxes; half of the ones adorning your apartment are stuffed with art supplies: brushes and paints of all varieties from oils to acrylics, graphite pencils and kneaded erasers, canvases both blank and filled. You swear there’s even an entire box dedicated to sketchbooks filled with random doodles and scribbled ideas for assignments that never turned into anything great. Feyre hadn’t been happy when she’d seen you’d left that box for her to carry up.
When Feyre’s had her fill of the crisp air, she hands you a bottle of water from the freezer. It’s nowhere near as cold as you’d like it yet. You’d run into the gas station to get a few bottles and candy bars while she filled up the tank of the U-Haul for your last stretch or the drive. It hadn’t occurred to either of you to grab something with more sustenance until this very moment.
“Ugh,” you groan, choking down the room-temperature water. It helps a little to soothe your parched throat, but nowhere near enough. “Do you have any money left in your account? We should Door Dash something for dinner, and call it an early night.”
“An early night?” Feyre retorts, making a face as she takes a sip of her own water. “We have a lot of unpacking to do. And our beds aren’t even set up yet.” 
“Fuck us,” you sigh, leaning against the marble. The stone is cool where it seeps through your thin shirt, and you ache to rip off your clothing and press your burning skin to it in an attempt to cool yourself off. “Let’s just find the boxes with the pillows and blankets and sleep in the living room, Fey. C’mon, it’ll be like when we were young again! Except now we’re old enough to buy alcohol.” You waggle your eyebrows at your roommate and she cracks a wry grin. “Well, almost old enough, but those fake ID’s Tarquin got us work like a charm anyway.”
“Fine,” Feyre relents, “Dibs on first shower, though.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•
While Feyre uses all of the hot water, despite it being nearly ninety degrees outside—blasphemous for the end of August in the middle of Southern California—you take the chance to move the U-Haul from where you’d double-parked it outside of your new apartment building. Thankfully, you and Feyre had saved up enough money from working at an Art Camp for children this summer to have both of your cars shipped to school. It was cheaper to rent a truck and move all of your belongings yourselves than to drive down and let a moving company do it, plus, you and Feyre had wanted to road trip this summer but didn’t have the funds. You both had decided there was no better time for it—until you could properly afford one—than this.
You scroll aimlessly through your social media on the way down, the elevator so slow and creaky that you and Feyre opted to take the stairs for most of your journey. Bigger things like your beds, the futon, and the tv had been squashed into the tiny elevator and taken up with prayers it wouldn’t break down. You can’t help but glance up at the certificate that says the elevator is in running order until its next inspection in two years. 
“Is that forged, George Brown?” you mutter, squinting at the paper displayed in the corner. It’s frayed at the edges and yellowing, so you’re not all that sure this elevator has been inspected when it says it has.
It comes to a jerky halt that makes you sway when it hits the lobby. It’s as nice a building as you can afford on your budget, but the both of you will have to find part-time jobs as soon as school starts up, so that you have money to buy alcohol and food and supplies. Feyre’s older sister, Nesta, had lived here with her friends Gwyn and Emerie during their undergrad years, but they’ve moved on from shitty apartment buildings riddled with horny college students to renting a quaint house in town while working on their masters degrees.
When the doors to the elevator slide open you slip out as fast as possible, a shudder working its way up your spine. You wonder how many times it’s broken down, and you’d hate to be in there alone if something like that happened. Maybe you’ll take the stairs from now on unless you’re with someone.
The lobby of the building is small. There’s a front desk in which no one ever sits, as if the building used to be sophisticated once upon a time and a doorman used to occupy the space. Mailboxes pinned to the wall line the area behind the counter, and there sits a garbage can stuffed full with envelopes and more likely than not empty bottles of alcohol and take-away, maybe even a used condom or two.
It’s muggy down here, more so than your apartment that the landlord hadn’t turned on the air conditioning when he knew you’d be showing up today. Whatever, you hadn’t had to see the greasy man, he’d left the keys on the counter for you and Feyre to find when you’d arrived, and you were more than thankful for that.
You brush away some of the hairs that have come loose from your ponytail as you cross the lobby. The hazards of the U-Haul are blinking at a steady rate, the skies turning darker with the looming night. It had taken you and Feyre all day to unpack the truck, and you’re returning it tomorrow when your cars come in, so you need to move it to a normal spot for the night. 
Pushing open the door, your steps falter as someone brushes past you like a shadow, nearly hitting your shoulder with theirs. Your brows furrow and you turn to toss a comment about how rude they are but the words dry up in your throat. 
He’s tugging off a motorcycle helmet and you can’t help but watch the way his biceps bulge against his skin tight black t-shirt. The muscles of his broad back glide like butter beneath the fabric as he moves and you can’t help but let your gaze travel down his spine to his tight waist, dipping into dark jeans.
His thick soled boots thump loudly as he stalks through the door, stopping at the mailboxes to check if he has any letters. The tiny door opens with a squeak that has you snapping back into your body, stunned by his musculature. This man is a god of his own league. A masterpiece of perfectly crafted body parts and tones. He has an angular nose and long, dark lashes matching his disheveled hair. He runs his fingers through it and shoves the helmet under his armpit as he digs through his mailbox. Your fingers twitch to dig out your sketchbook and pencils from the box upstairs.
You force your gaze outside again, cheeks red hot with embarrassment. You were straight up ogling the man, and thankfully you’re not drooling, as you take notice while you wet your suddenly dry lips. 
You click the keys, unlocking the U-Haul, but stop short when you see that the truck is caged in, a big vintage Bronco parked behind, and a shiny motorcycle that looks like it moves faster than the speed of light wedged between the moving truck and the vehicle in front.
“Hey,” you call, ripping the door back open to the lobby. You have no doubt that the motorcycle is his, and the car behind had been there when you and Feyre had arrived this afternoon, so you don’t know whom it belongs to. “Is this your motorcycle?” 
The man is already on his way to the elevator, phone stable in his leather riding gloves as he swipes, envelopes tucked into his helmet. The elevator door screeches open and he doesn’t even bother to turn around and meet your gaze as he punches the button to his floor. “Nope.”
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bandgie · 23 days
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question, what would skz do to make you squeal? what where when how, go all out~
chan!
likes hearing how happy he makes you! doesn't always have to be sexual. maybe he buys you something you've always wanted and you do a little happy squeak omfg makes his heart explode! but sexually? he likes hearing it when he drives his cock real deep in you. feeling your walls twitch and squeeze onto him when his tip is pushing past your cervix. you have to push on his tummy because he's just sooooo deeeepp but he likes hearing you squeak! he can see your swollen lips trying to form words but ugh! all you can do is mewl and squeal :(
minho!
grabs your butt outta no where to hear you chirp. sometimes it's in the comfort of your own home but most of the time it's in public. all you do is give him the 'did u just really do that here?' look and he's just smirking at back you like 'fuck yeah I did' in the bedroom I think it's pretty similar! but he's a lot more rough. his soft hand feels not-so-soft on your ass when he smacks it from behind. the force makes you lurch forward, gripping the pillow under you to muffle your squeals. and sometimes!! if he's eating you out from behind, he'll spread your cheeks to lick up your ass and watch your feet kick all cute
changbin!
anything! bin would do anything to hear you make little happy sounds. like chan, it just makes his heart melt and he's got that cute little smile when you're just so happy that you squeal but by far, eating you out while you make those cute noises are the best. there's just something about being buried between your legs with your fingers in his curls while you mewl and squeal that's just beautiful. honestly, changbin would be the one squealing the most (in and out of the bedroom) so he makes those sounds with you in your cunt tbh
hyunjin!
my lover boy! his fav is when he makes something for you or maybe he's just showing you his latest work in progress and you clap your hands and squeal cuz he's just so talented. really gives him motivation. not only are you his motivation but his muse. he loves painting your body in different ways: clothed, nude, standing, sitting, with your legs open. I've written before how hyunjin loves painting your pussy and I stand by that!! it's only natural that you squeal from embarrassment from the poses he puts you in, but he has a vision! he likes to paint the flush on your cheeks and the pinkness of your pussy, ugh defo fucks it when he's done BUT the whole process of drawing you while you whine about how shy you are is the best
han!
him making you squeal? it should be the other way around but I do think he likes hearing you make those cute little noises when he makes them too! it happens when you're both super desperate to fuck, like maybe you've been teasing each other all day or he's been on tour for a while and when you two get together it's just bunnies fucking BUTBUTBUTBUT let me say just say...sex pills. no idea the actual word for it but it's those pills/foods that get you super horny and makes you all sensitive. those are hannie's fav when ya'll are fucking. everything is wetter, hotter, softer, just so much more. han always fucks you good but with those pills? it's like you're constantly creaming on his cock with every thrust of his hips. at some point, neither of you can form proper words and you just end up whining and squealing into each other's mouths.
felix!
there's just something about fingering you while being able to watch your face contort into pleasure that does it for felix. his fingers aren't super long, but it's all about the motion of the ocean. he's really good at getting you to cum on his digits really fast and keep going. his wrist is drenched with your cum and your pussy keeps leaking that white cream, but he shows no signs of stopping. steady pumping into you in a way that makes you raise your heels off the floor and bury yourself deeper into the couch. he's kissing you, obvi. lixie can't let just his fingers get all the attention, but it is difficult to properly suck on your tongue since you keep moaning and squealing.
seungmin!
I am on my dom!seungmin agenda because I just know he likes hearing you squeak and squeal when he's fucking you real hard. kinnddd of like chan in that he buries himself in you, but unlike chan in that seungmin will keep thrusting into you. it feels like you can hardly catch your breath with how hard and deep he's pounding into you, but you like how dizzy it makes you feel. flat on your stomach while he drives his cock in and out of your swollen pussy to a point that you can't moan and you just squeal like you're out of breath. mhm, he likes that. esp when he flips you around and surprises you with cleaning his cock from your cum.... yeah
jeongin!
give this man some head! throat fucking you is the absolute best (and his favorite) way to get you to squeal! on your back with your head hanging off the bed, on your knees, 69ing, he doesn't care! innie can't really hear you squealing when you're too busy choking on his dick, but he can hear you gag, the wet noises your mouth makes, the sound of your throat when his tip touches the back. those are all good yes but it's when you pull away from his cock to catch your breath that makes him groan. hearing you pant, whimper, and moan from his cock like he's fucking your pussy instead is heaven to this man. will guide your pretty mouth back to his cock by grabbing the back of your head. tapping his tip on your red lips to watch you loll your tongue out and lick it. and when he pushes past your mouth? hearing that squeal from him burying his cock as deep as your throat will let him makes your teary eyes worth it
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russellsppttemplates · 2 months
Text
I'm always over the moon (Lando Norris)
A look into your and Lando's little life moments
Note: english is not my first language. It's fluffy, so you know I pratically melted (and am now feeling single in about seventeen different levels)✨️
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions accident drop of a glass and possibility of injury
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
Today's training session was particularly hard, Jon having Lando run a considerable amount of kilometres more than the usual distance followed by a weights session. By the time he was finished his cryotherapy session, he was more than ready to go home and snuggle up to you in the sofa.
Setting his keys on the little bowl by the door, Lando left his shoes on the coat cabinet by the door before walking to the ensuite bathroom where he heard noise from.
"I'm home, baby", he said, crossing the corner and resting his body on the side of the door, watching you rub product on your face.
"Hey, Lan", you smiled at him through the mirror, putting the lid on the pot you were using and storing it away.
Approaching him, you laced your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the curls ay the nape of his neck, "how was your session?", you wondered before kissing his lips.
"It was a killer, Jon set out to push me to the limit today", he hummed, hands finding your waist and holding your body close to his, "and you?", he checked.
"I worked all day, finally finished the prototypes for the next Quadrant campaign, then I worked out and I was just finishing my shower when you arrived", you added.
"I should've come home earlier, I could have joined you in there", he smirked, lowering his head to your neck and kissing the skin softly, earning your giggles as you squirmed.
"You're tickling me", you smiled, curling yourself closer against him, "but it's alright, baby, we'll do it another time".
When you separated yourself from his slightly, Lando noticed what you were wearing, "ugh, baby, I don't know what would be better, getting home when you were in the shower or this", he complimented.
"What do you mean?", you scrunched your eyebrows, looking down at your outfit. Because you had moisturised your whole body, from head to toe, after your workout, you decided to put on your tiny pyjamas shorts and one of Lando's t-shirts, the bottom piece fitting your thighs loosely while his t-shirt fit snug on your hips and chest, the fabric leaving little to the imagination. Even though he knew everything it kept away, he loved the way your curvilinear body looked in his t-shirt.
"I love it when you wear my clothes, they look so good on you, too god even", he nibbled on your ear lobe, hands tapping your thighs so you knew to jump and wrap your legs around his waist.
"I thought you were too tired, baby", you brushed the curls away from his eyes, "I am, but that doesn't mean I won't spend the evening glued to you", he winked, carrying you to the sofa in the living room, laying you both down and wrapping you both in a blanket.
"Can't have you feeling cold, baby", he mumbled, fixing the blanket before his hand travelled under the t-shirt and settled on your tummy, making you hum in content, "I love you, baby", you cooed.
.
"Alright, let's get to work!", Lando clapped after setting the last box on the living room floor.
When you moved all of the things you wanted to Monaco, Lando insisted you should bring your favourite books, reasoning that the apartment should also have some of your things instead of just his helmets for decoration. So, three boxes were shipped with your favourite book collections and stand alones and, you and Lando took the afternoon to organise them.
"I get this can be boring for you, Lan, I can do it myself if you want to go stream or just game", you added, kissing his cheek lovingly.
"Absolutely not, baby, I want to help you! So, how do you want this?", he asked as he looked at what was in the boxes, "do you want to do this by colour? Genre? Date? The ones you've read and the ones you haven't read yet", he suggested.
"We can go a bit with the colour schemes you already have with the helmets", you tried, looking over at the colour palette the books made up.
Wiping the shelves one last time, you sat on the floor and handed the books over to your boyfriend, guiding him through the order and way you wanted to display them.
"Oh, I remember this one - I read it to you the first time I spent the night at your place! You didn't want to seem weird and admit you needed to read a little before going to bed and thought you could go without it for one night!", he smiled at the memory, "Little did you know that it was another one of the things that attracted me to you and I was more than happy to read to you", he winked, leaving you flustered as you handed him the next book, "very smooth, Mr. Norris", you blushed.
"I like to keep you on your toes", he chuckled, "next, there's room for that big collection there", he pointed to the eight books that shared the same design, "might be a tight squeeze, but I think it's fine", he muttered as you handed him the books.
By the time you finished, the living room looked like a good mixture of you and Lando. The books added a pop of colour and softer tone along with the new picture frames you scattered.
"It looks great", Lando said, pulling you closer to him as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, "our home is coming together nicely", he kissed the side of your head.
.
"They can spend the day, of course I don't mind", you smiled as you out the cutlery away in the drawer.
"It's your home too, baby, just wanted to make sure you're fine with it", Lando reasoned as he wiped the counter.
It was still weird to refer to the apartment as your home, but you wouldn't have it any other way. Closing the door and moving to the cups drying on the counter, you grabbed a tea towell and started drying them before setting them in the cupboard.
"I'll make sure to not make too much noise, or I can go and work at the café down the street, it's - shoot!", you cursed as the glass slipped from your hold, falling on the floor and shattering into little pieces.
"Careful, darling, you might hurt yourself more", Lando urged, stretching his arms and helping you stand where there were no glass shards.
"I'm sorry, I thought the towell wasn't that slippery", you said as Lando scanned your hands for any cuts or injuries, moving to your feet and ankles.
"It's okay, baby, I don't care about the glass, I care about you", he kissed your fingers, "there's a little graze here", he pointed to the small nick on your skin, "go wash it off while gather these", he kissed your cheek and looked for the broom.
Making sure he had sweeped all of it and then passing the vacuum cleaner just to make sure, Lando finished putting the glasses away as you stood by the door, "it's fine,Y/N, we'll go to IKEA and get a new one", he conforted, "now, are we ready for bed?", he wondered as he held your hand as you walked to the bedroom.
.
"My shoulders are killing me, I think I slept funny", you mumbled, trying to find a good position against the office chair, Lando's look questioning your movements.
"Are you in pain? You should've said something", he tutted, hands coming to rub the muscles along your shoulders and neck as Ria went over the latest filming plans.
"Y/N, are you okay, girl?", Ria asked, concerned at the faces you were pulling, "are you sure he's helping you rather than making it worse?", she teased.
"Hey!", Lando yelled, "I'm trying to be a great boyfriend, making sure she's feeling well and taken care of! I think that's jealousy", he smirked, poking his tongue out at her.
"It's feeling good, handsome, especially right there", you groaned, earning a whistle from Max.
"If you guys need a room, I'm sure they can find something relatively kept away!", he laughed, luckily missing the pillow your boyfriend threw at him, "no need to resort to violence, guys!".
"Bring that pillow over here, please, I actually need it", you asked him, taking it from his hands as he quickly walked away, "what, are you afraid I was going to make you trip?", you giggled.
"I don't know, the two of you are never up to any good!", Max raised his hands in defense as Lando kissed your forehead, "He's just jealous because we're a great team and P isn't here with him".
.
Weekends with no racing and no plans quickly became your favourite because you were able to spend as much time as you possibly could with Lando, the triple header ahead of you already promising to make spending time just with him on your own a bit difficult.
When Lando woke up like clockwork, he stretched his neck just enough to watch you sleep cuddled up to his side, your hand grabbing a handful of the sheets that were keeping you warm as you peacefully slept, and knowing how much Quadrant had kept you up late that past week, he thought it would be nice to let you sleep for a bit longer.
Carefully getting up to not wake you up, Lando kissed your cheek soflty and made his side of the bed, tucking the sheets around your body as he lightly kissed your head one last time before he went to the ensuite to change into his workout clothes.
Heading to the kitchen, Lando filled his water bottle and grabbed a pre-workout snack to take to the home gym. Looking at the equipment in the room and the cardio indications Jon had sent him, he decided that he was going on the bike, figuring that, even though the sound isolation was pretty good, it would be the least likely to make too much noise to the point of waking you up, following up with some weights and then stretching.
He was all sweaty when he walked back into the bedroom, ready to have a shower when he heard the sheets ruffling, "hey, baby, good morning", he smiled, "you can go back to sleep, I just need to take a shower, I'm sorry I woke you up", he pouted.
"Morning", you yawned, "I'm going to shower with you", you smiled sleepily, getting up and joining him in the ensuite.
Leaving your clothes in a pile on the floor, Lando got the shower started, making sure the water was warm as you both liked before stepping in with you, letting the water wash away before you grabbed your shower gel, lathering it on Lando's hands and then on yours as you both helped the other wash off, stealing kissing and caresses along the way.
When you got back to the bedroom and dressed in lounge wear clothes, you were ready to have breakfast, finding the overnight oats in the kitchen, "I don't mind if you want to eat something else", Lando offered.
"These are good, I don't mind it", you said, "but I am going to make my latte because my brain can't go without the caffeine", you scrunched up your nose, earning his giggles as you turned on the coffee machine.
"Can I have a little sip, please?", Lando asked once you frothed up the milk, "of course, here baby", you encouraged, bringing the mug up to his lips and having your hand form a shell under it just in case it spilled.
Lando was left with a little foam moustache, earning a giggle from you as you kissed him, "my little frothy man", you cupped his cheek before kissing him properly, "I love you, Y/N", he whispered, pulling you into his embrace.
.
"You pick the movie, I have to go pee", you said to your boyfriend, letting him walk inside the living room as you continued down the hall to the bathroom.
For tonight's plan, you and Lando decided to stay in and cook together, wanting to enjoy the small task without rushing or heating up something from his meal plan, still making something healthy and approved by his team.
When you got back to the living room,
Lando had his Spotify app on the TV, a slow song you recognised from his brother's wedding playlist ready to play, "would you do me the honour of joining me in this dance?", he asked, kissing your knuckles before looking up at you, eyes sparkly as you replied, "yes, I will", you smiled, allowing him to push you flush to his chest, slowdancing in the living room once he started the song, your head in his chest listening to his steady heartbeat.
"Everyday I thank my lucky starts that we met, that I was bold enough to ask you out and that you've stayed with me all of these years", he broke the silence as he unattached his lips from your temple, "and I never want to loose this, little touches, giggles, wins and losses, all of it", he smiled.
"You're the best thing that has happened to me, Lando", you cupped his face in your hands, thumbs brushing his cheeks as he smiled, "I can only hope you feel as happy as I do when I'm with you".
"Darling, with you, I'm always over the moon", he giggled, kissing your lips softly as he stumbled you two into the sofa, roaming hands and tongues battling eachother as a night of love and passion unfolded.
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freakingholland · 2 months
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"Cold cloths, warm hugs" Jason Todd x gn!reader
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A/N: My first ever Jason x reader fic whaaat! I have such a soft spot for this guy ugh <3 also this is so fluffy and silly, I'll see myself out!
Warnings: not proofread, swear words, Jason is feeling unwell so a mention of headaches? use of painkillers
Summary: You and Jay have a night off, what could possibly go wrong? (fluff, hurt/comfort-ish)
Word count: 850 +
If you enjoyed my work: Ko-fi.com/freakingholland
questions/requests/ideas here! - rules here
masterlist (needs a proper update)
-
You were in the middle of watching some kind of lighthearted show on your night off. Jason had a night off as well, the two of you had been sitting on a couch and simply enjoying each other’s presence. Jason had been reading a book curled up next to your tucked figure, as your back was leaning against the opposite arm of the couch. Unexpectedly his reading session got disturbed. At least you thought so since he had gotten up from the couch, tossed his reading glasses aside on the coffee table and went to the kitchen without a word. At least 5 minutes had passed, and he didn’t return.
“Hey- you alright in there?”
-
“-Yup, just a sec.”
He didn’t sound very convincing. His response seemed wavering, and it was enough to make you a bit wary. As you didn’t want to possibly annoy him with your raised voice, not knowing the problem yet, instead of shouting from the sofa, you went to check on him.
His head was hanging low as he was standing with his hands resting on the counter. There was an unscrewed bottle of painkillers and a now empty, wet glass. You went behind him and put your hand on the small of his back.
“What’s going on baby?” Your heart ached at the sight.
“--Headache.” He whispered through gritted teeth. His tone made you uptight.
“I- I- gotta lie down.”
“-can you get me a cold-- towel? Please…” He spoke quietly while turning to go to your bedroom. Your hand dropped to your side.
“Course. You’re nauseous?”
He slightly leaned on the doorframe before going further away from you. He shut his eyes as the light hit his face when leaving the kitchen.
“Yeah…”
He then faltered to rest up.
“Shit.” You cursed under your breath putting your head in your hand when he left.
You were hoping that you’d have a calm evening for once, you deserved to have it. It’s been a while since something bothered Jay to that degree, whether it was a patrol injury or sickness, and the fact that he was hurting on his day off made you genuinely irritated.
On the positive side – at least he didn’t try to hide the fact that he was feeling unwell. He also asked for some help without much frustration. It took months to get to this point, but encouraging Jay to open up and communicate more has been paying off. Grief-stricken conversations still happen every so often. Hell, it would be beyond belief if they weren’t happening considering the extent of past trauma that Jason has suffered through.
But his mental health really did improve over the months of you two dating.
You put on the kettle to make him a nice warm cup of tea. With the help of a stool, you managed to find his old but beloved wonder woman mug. It took some digging in your cabinet that really needed a proper cleanup. When the tea had been made you moved on to rummage through your closet to find a cloth for a cold compress. Placing three cubes of ice in between the layers was enough to make the cloth cold.
“Babe did you drink cof—“ you stopped halfway through your whispered question when you were walking into your shared bedroom.
You suddenly stopped in your tracks realizing your possible mistake. Jay was already dosing off, curled under a blanket. His lips were slightly parted. There was a noticeable change in his posture, there was less tension within his upper body, his arms seemed more relaxed than before. You didn’t think he would be falling asleep this fast, but you figured the headache must have been bad and that the painkillers actually started to kick in.
 The sight made you sigh as you you’ve been unnoticeably holding in your breath. You tiptoed to his bed side table and put down his mug of steaming tea. You then carefully kneeled down next to the bed in order to place a compress on his forehead without startling him too much. You gently pressed it onto his skin, making sure to place it slightly over his eyelids.
“That feels so nice.” He muttered.
“Shhh ignore me and go to sleep.”
“I don’t wanna ignore you--, come here.”
You stood up and walked around the bed. Before joining Jay, you opened the window to let some fresh air into the room.
“Baby please…”
“’Kay ‘kay I’m coming.”
You carefully crawled under his blanket and big spooned him.
“You know what? I can already feel the headache going away just cause you’re hugging me.” He continued verbilising his loopy thoughts.
“Oh yeah? It must be some kind of magic.”
“Yeah, it’s Y/N’s magic.”
“Just don’t tell on me. Peeps might burn me at the stake.”
“Fuuuuuuck no I wouldn’t let them.”
“Oh, I know you wouldn’t big guy. ” you said running your hand through his hair.  
Jay rolled to his side to embrace you in a hug. He nuzzled his face into your chest and sighed with relief.
“JACE that’s cold! Stop it!” you winced and laughed as the compress touched your warm skin.
“It wouldn’t feel so cold if you weren’t so hot.”
“I think we gotta check your temperature…”
-
Stay whelmed xx Tori
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fuckyeahdindjarin · 6 months
Text
Hallow'seams
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A Seams Halloween special oneshot
{ Part IV: Notch | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }
Rating: A spicy T
Summary: Joel proves to you that he can be adventurous if he wants to be.
Warnings: Joel wears a slutty Halloween costume, fluff, mentions of drinking, spicy thoughts but nothing explicit, no use of Y/N
Word count: 1.7k
Notes: I was so looking forward to writing this Seams Halloween special that I floated back in the summer. Unfortunately, life™ happened - I've had a very rough month and honestly I didn't think I had it in me to do any writing for the rest of this year, but then this happened! I woke up thinking about Joel wearing a Gladiator costume and couldn't put it down. It's not as long or intricate as my original idea, but I hope you enjoy this anyway. I've missed these two so much!
Thank you for sticking with me and giving me so much love, I really don't deserve you all 🧡 Happy Halloween!
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Joel pushes open the door to the High Street Outfitters, one booted foot steps over the threshold -
And he stops and stares.
Pumpkins of all sizes, some more crudely carved than others, seem to occupy every conceivable surface. Black cat and broomstick decals adorn the worn wooden walls, while hand-pulled cotton cobweb the ceilings.
When his feet unstick and move into the empty shop, he nearly topples a huge cauldron of what looks like homemade candy. Steadying it with his hands, he mutters under his breath. 'What the f-'
He would never admit it, but he nearly jumps out of his skin when you emerge from the studio with a dramatic flutter of the curtain divider. 'Oh hey, you're here!'
Stepping towards you, he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth in a hello, and gestures. 'You really went all out, hmm?'
Your grin brims with pride, and he feels his lips stretch into an answering smile as you straighten up some of the costumes on a nearby rack.
'We found a Halloween shop nearby a few years back,' you explain. 'All their stock was still in boxes in the store room, so we took everything and ran with it. It's a lot of work every year, but the kids have so much fun with it, it's definitely worth it.'
Joel hums skeptically. 'Not just the kids have fun, from what I heard.'
You cross your arms and play coy. 'What have you heard?'
'That my brother hosts the rowdiest Halloween party in town for the adults every year, and tonight is their last hurrah before the baby comes.'
You chuckle. 'And I'm guessing you fought the costume and lost?'
'There’s no winnin’ when your sister-in-law plays the pregnancy card,' he grumbles with poorly concealed fondness.
You walk him towards the racks near the cashier. 'Here are the men's costumes. We run a pay what you want system for Halloween rentals, just pop your contribution into that pumpkin on the counter. You better hurry though, things start kicking off around seven tonight.'
Joel combs through the outfits half-heartedly, when a standalone clothes rack on the other side of the room, covered with a black sheet, catches his eye. 'And what's that?'
You hesitate, and stutter, 'Oh, um - you won’t like those.'
Arching an eyebrow, he stares down at you. 'Why is that, sweetheart?'
The endearing way you wring your hands and worry your bottom lip brings him right back to when he first met you. Your shyness has always provoked a reaction from him - an understanding at first, from the introvert in him. Then protectiveness, when he started spending time with you.
And now, knowing you the way he does, with you opening up to him over the past few months, he lets his mouth relax into a half-smirk, one hand curling around your waist to pull you into his side as he teases, 'Use your words, Pin.'
You huff, recognising the playfulness in his body language, but you still struggle to get the words out. 'They’re - um, damnit - they're adventurous.'
He sets his face in a mock stern expression. 'And what, I’m too borin' for them?'
Narrowing your eyes at him, which makes him grin, you deadpan, 'It's just - they're not your thing, ok? They're of the -' you pause, and gesture in air quotes. 'Occupational variety.'
Comprehension dawns on him, and he drawls, 'Ah, you mean slutty costumes.'
He can feel your skin heat at his words as you duck your head, and he teases, voice low and gruff by your ear. 'And will you be wearin' somethin' slutty for me tonight, sweetheart?'
Your breath hitches and your lips part, eyes glassy at the turn of the mood. 'Joel -'
He isn't a particularly spiritual man, but the longer he lives, the more he’s convinced that some people are put on earth for a reason.
And Lucy's raison d'etre is to cockblock him at every turn.
The door bursts open with a brash energy that is uniquely hers (with an uncanny resemblance to Ellie's), and your best friend doesn't skip a beat at the sight of the pair of you canoodling. 'Save the making out for later, Miller. We gotta go get ready Pin, c’mon!'
You hastily press a kiss to his whiskered cheek. 'Pick your costume and lock up behind you, ok? I'll see you in a bit.'
Lucy all buts hauls you out of the shop, throwing over her shoulder. 'See ya later, Miller! You better show up half naked!'
Curiosity getting the better of him, Joel pulls back the sheet from the clothes rack, and his eyebrows reach for his softly graying hairline. Leafing through the options, he pauses somewhere in the middle, and smiles to himself.
He’ll show you adventurous.
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Maria and Tommy's Halloween party is easily the most anticipated event in the Jackson social calendar. Illicit incentives often swap hands for a RSVP, with those unfortunate enough to be assigned patrol duties on the night willing to pay handsomely for a swap in shifts.
While the kids are knocked out at home from eating their body weight in sugar, the Tipsy Bison is teeming with townsfolk. The normally dark interiors are decked out floor to ceiling in garish black and orange, as if people wouldn't get the memo.
Joel was apprehensive on his arrival, pausing for a moment outside the double doors of the establishment to steel himself. But as soon as he crosses the threshold into the warm and boisterous bar, so loud that his right ear rings, he realises that his worries are completely unwarranted.
No one even bats an eyelid as he wades through the throngs of partygoers, nodding politely at acquaintances who drunkenly shout his name and raise a pitcher in greeting.
It's pure madness - Halloween stopped existing for him twenty years ago. The last time he went to a Halloween party was their neighbour's barbeque. He still remembers the Gryffindor costume he bought Sarah, and how big she smiled swishing around in her robe, casting gibberish spells on her friends all night.
This, however, is a distinctly grownup affair.
When he put on his costume and stood in front of the mirror an hour ago, he could barely look at his own reflection. But now, compared to others in the room, turns out his choice is almost demure.
He only saw Gladiator once when it came out a couple of years before the outbreak, but he liked it, and when he saw the costume on the rack, he picked it out straight away.
The dark red cape sits on his shoulders and drapes across half of his torso - shirtless, of course - baring his right arm. He's a bit self-conscious about the skirt (he's sure there's a name for it but the packaging didn't shed light on this), which sits mid-thigh, fastened by a belt around his waist. He's even wearing the Roman sandals and leather bracelet, and a plastic sword hangs from his belt - the full monty.
The vain side in him thinks he can pull it off, but more importantly -
He wore it for you.
But you're nowhere to be seen, even after he grabs a beer from the counter, having circled the bar twice. Spotting a lone empty chair at a high table, he decides to perch (pulling down his skirt so his boxers don't show) while he has a drink and looks for you.
His keen eyes scan the room methodically. Sexy witches, slutty lumberjacks, misbehaving firemen, naughty nurses - together with the noise, everyone and everything seems to blur into one, and he almost gives up when something familiar crosses his line of sight.
Joel frowns.
Hold up. That toolbelt looks familiar. His eyes narrow as he squints at the worn faded leather.
It is his toolbelt. The toolbelt that disappeared from his garage workshop a couple of days ago that Ellie swears she knows nothing about. That little shit.
Then his gaze pulls back, like a camera zooming out, and he finds that the toolbelt is sitting on the soft swell of a pair of hips, over short denim cut-offs that he's sure he's seen before, and below a red flannel. His red flannel, knotted at the waist, that he knows you sleep in every night.
His chest rumbles with something primal, and he downs the rest of his beer in one big gulp before slamming the empty pint glass on the table and getting onto his feet.
You don’t see him coming, but you know without turning around the moment a pair of strong hands close over your hips in a possessive grip, pulling you towards the bathroom in the back of the bar.
He knocks a breathless laugh out of you when he pushes you up the closed door, the noise of the party muted by the thick timber as you grin up at him, preening at the way his dark gaze rakes over your costume.
A shiver runs down your spine as your own undoubtedly dilated eyes follow the solid outline of his right arm, which flexes as he rests his palm on the door behind you, then down his broad chest and the soft belly he’s so nonchalantly putting on display.
It’s absurd, you know - it’s just a tacky Halloween costume, but the seams of your eyes prickle as you muse how comfortable he is in his own skin.
'And what exactly are you dressed up as?' he asks, sliding his free hand under the toolbelt to squeeze your ass.
'A slutty contractor,' you answer boldly, dragging your index finger down his bare chest. 'Isn't it obvious?'
'And you thought stealin' my toolbelt for your little costume was a good idea?' he growls.
'Well, I didn't know you'd turn up as a gladiator of all things,' you tease, wrapping your fingers around the hilt of his plastic sword.
It should not make his pulse spike like this.
'Not only that, sweetheart. I'm a slutty gladiator, thank you very much,' he retorts, walking into you to slot his hips flush against yours.
You shoot him a loaded smirk that instantly has his boxers shrink by two sizes. Ripping his cape off his shoulders, you ask cheekily, ‘And what does my champion demand as punishment -'
Joel doesn't let you finish your sentence, swallowing the rest of it with a kiss so deep that it steals your voice and takes out your knees in one fell swoop.
Grinning at the way you're already bonelessly slumped against him, he winks, nose brushing yours. 'I can think of a few things, sweetheart.'
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Note: Thank you for reading! I had so much fun dipping my toe back into the Seams universe, I hope you did too. This is me warming up with a view of returning to writing for the series proper, fingers crossed sometime soon! Comments/reblogs/asks are very much appreciated as always 🧡
Thank you @firefly-graphics for the adorably spooky dividers!
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roxygen22 · 3 months
Text
FAMILY BUSINESS
"My Little Cocoa Bean" Series
Willy was absolutely smitten by his "little cocoa bean," Benjamin. You called him Ben for short, but Willy affectionately called him Bean. He stayed home from the factory for a bit to help you recover and bond with the baby. He made the most of his limited time off doting on you both. Unless Ben was feeding, he was in Willy's arms. He was truly a devoted, loving father and husband.
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Willy went back to work when Ben was about three weeks old. It was an adjustment to be alone with the baby all day, but it made Willy's returns in the evening all the more sweeter. After about six months, he came home with an idea.
"Now that he is a little older and more sturdy, why don't I take Bean with me to work one or two days a week so that you can have some time to yourself?" Willy not-so-secretly struggled going back to work, often lamenting how much he missed you both, but he knew he had to provide for his family.
"Oh my. I love the concept, but how are you going to handle business or have your hands free to make chocolate?" you asked as it took both of your hands to keep Ben from launching himself out of your lap to get to his papa.
"Easy!" Willy exclaimed as he scooped up the baby. "I saw Lottie today, and she had little Georgie tied to her chest with a wrap. Then it clicked - I could do that, too! Besides, babies are good for business! He's so cute, he'll draw a crowd," he mused as he squished his nose against Ben's chubby cheek, then turned to you with a pouty lip.
"I guess we could give it a try. Maybe start with a half day?" you said, excited about the potential but nervous about its execution. You loved your husband, but you were not sure he fully understood what he was in for. You did, however, always admire his determination to get what he wanted in life, even if he resorted to playing on your sympathies with a pout.
"Great! I already went by the store to get fabric to make a sling." You shook your head fondly and went about your evening routine.
Thanks to his mamma's teachings, Willy was handy with a needle and thread. A couple of nights later, his contraption was ready for testing at home. Ben was quite cozy snuggled up on his father's chest, gently babbling while Willy washed the dishes after dinner. Everything was going swimmingly. "Tomorrow would be a good day to try this out for real," he said. "I don't have any business meetings, so I'll just be splitting my time between the stores and the factory."
"Ok," you said tentatively. "I'll get his bag ready and write down his daytime schedule." The next morning, you loaded Willy down with everything he would need - extra clothes for both father and son, burp cloths, bottles, diapering supplies, etc. "So he'll need to eat again in a couple of hours. That will probably be when he needs another diaper change. And he'll need to go down for a na..."
Willy put a hand on your arm to interrupt you, rubbing up and down to calm your nerves. "I've got this. Okay? I want you to focus on enjoying your alone time." Admittedly, you were looking forward to a chance to curl up with a good book without intertuption for a few hours.
"Alright, Bean, ready for some adventure?" The baby cooed and raspberried spit all over Willy's hand. "I'll take that as a yes. Allons-y! Wave bye to mamma!"
"Bye bye, my boys. Have a good day!" You stood at the front door and waved them off.
<><><><>
Willy stopped first at his flagship store in the Galeries Gourmet to ensure things were in order. Mrs. Pennington, a regular customer always in the company of her granddaughter, spotted the chocolatier. "Well, hello there, Mrs. Pennington, Miss Hannah," he greeted and tipped his hat at the ladies. "Are you finding everything okay?"
"Indeed, Mr. Wonka. Thank you," the grandmother smiled. "And who is this handsome little one?" Ben babbled and cooed.
"This is my son, Bean. I mean, Benjamin," Willy replied with a proud smile.
"Oh, how lovely. Learning the family business early, eh?"
"As my mamma said, 'It's not the chocolate that matters. It's the people you share it with.'"
"I remember when my children were that little. Soak it up, Mr. Wonka. It doesn't last long." She patted the baby on the cheek and then continued her shopping. Willy turned around to wipe away a tear and kiss his son on the head.
Ben seemed to enjoy interacting with customers, smiling at their baby talk and staring around the store with wide eyes. But after a couple of hours, he started to fuss. The cashier was on break, so Willy was working the register, bouncing the baby in an attempt to silence his whimpers until he could break away to make a bottle. "Would you like your change spendable or edible?" He practically had to shout at the customers to be heard over Ben's fussing. Luckily the cashier came back before fussing became screaming.
"Okay, Bean, give me just a second and we'll silence those tummy grumbles," he said as he made his way to the stockroom. He deftly prepped a bottle and freed the baby from the sling. Very soon, Ben was reclining in Willy's arms and greedily sucking down a bottle. "See, I told your mamma I've got this."
<><><><>
Once Ben was fed and changed, Willy packed up the diaper bag and set out for the factory. Lulled by his father's swaying, Ben stayed asleep for a good while even after being transferred into the bassinet Willy had set up in his office. Inventing and chocolate making weren't exactly quiet endeavors, so Willy caught up on a bit of bookkeeping instead.
Ben eventually started stirring, alerting Willy with his soft coos. "Hi, sleepy head. Are you ready to go make some chocolate?" Willy set him back in the sling and made his way to the Idea Lab. Feeling refreshed from his nap, the little one was very alert, so Willy thought it would be fun to make this an interactive experience.
"Alright, Bean, I need to come up with something new, and you're going to help me," Willy announced while holding up two jars. "Which jar should I start with?" Of course, Ben's attention was grabbed by the brighest color of the two. "Ooh, essence of rainbow. Good call. What next?" he asked, continuing to hold up two jars at a time for the baby to choose from until he gathered enough.
Willy added the ingredients to his travel factory, which he still used for small batch experiments. Ben stared in wonder as the brightly colored liquids flowing down the spiral tube and giggled at the production noises. Willy was busy pressing buttons and pulling levers when the first chocolates came out of the machine and didn't pay close enough attention to Ben's stray hands. Willy looked down to see the baby's tiny hand grabbing and mashing melted chocolate into the fabric of the sling, his hair, and both of their shirts.
"Well, now I understand why your mother sent spare clothes for both of us." He wiped chocolate off his son's cheek with a finger and licked it. "Tastes good, though! I need to write that concoction down."
<><><><>
You were sitting on the couch with your book when Willy came home at lunchtime. Both boys and even their spare clothes were covered in chocolate. You had to stifle a giggle as you tried to figure out how to best grab the sticky baby without getting covered yourself.
Willy gave you a tired look but also huffed a quiet laugh. "I may have overestimated my ability to keep things under control. I don't know how you get anything done, my sweet. I always knew you were amazing, but you must have superhuman powers."
"Perhaps," you winked as you stripped Ben out of his clothes and started rinsing him off in the sink. "Are you sure you still want to make this a regular occurrence?"
"I would do it again in a heartbeat. But not before I have a bath."
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
MASTERLIST
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vax-merstappen · 3 months
Note
Just home fluff with Max Verstappen, like a cozy Sunday
sundays are for racing (mv1)
ooh i love home fluff!! hope you enjoy this, anon!
summary: it is winter break so max is home this sunday, you decide to show him that it's okay to relax and take some time off.
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It was the first weekend after the Formula 1 season had ended. You woke up in the bed you usually slept in alone to see that for the first time in a while, your boyfriend was sound asleep on the other side of the bed. It was comforting to know he was home and that everything in your life was together again.
You sat up and looked to the foot of the bed, seeing that Jimmy and Sassy were curled up between you and Max's legs. Your heart filled with joy, knowing your whole little family was back together. You closed your eyes for a few more minutes, content with your current situation. But then you had the wonderful idea to make breakfast in bed for your boyfriend. He had just finished an intense season of racing where he had won his third world championship. You wanted to do something special for him.
You stretched and climbed out of bed, making your way to the kitchen. The cats followed you and you made sure to put some food in their bowls before getting to work on breakfast for your boyfriend. After investigating the fridge, you decided on some toast and eggs, simple but tasty.
It took you a few minutes to make it, but you then assembled all of the ingredients on a tray along with a glass of milk. Pleased with the results, you went into your bedroom to find that your boyfriend was no longer in bed. Instead, Max was standing up and fully dressed in exercise gear.
"Max..." you said with a sigh. "Why are you going jogging?"
"Because I need to stay in shape," he replied, matter of factly.
"But the season just ended? Surely you can have a lazy day?"
He looked at the plate of food in your hand. "Was that for me?"
"Yeah, I thought I'd make you breakfast in bed so you could relax after the season. A breakfast of champions."
His gaze softened and he smiled at you. "Well I guess I can enjoy that before I jog."
He sat down on the bed and you sat beside him, wanting to be close to your boyfriend after being apart for so long. You were willing to spend any moment with him that you could get, even if it was just watching him eat breakfast.
"Thank you, darling. I wasn't expecting you to make me breakfast."
"Just wanted to do something nice for my handsome, incredible boyfriend. But he almost ruined it by going for a jog on what should be a lazy day," you teased.
"Who said today was supposed to be lazy?"
"I did. I always spend Sundays being lazy, you know, staying cozy in the house before I go back to work on Monday. I always relax on the couch and watch movies or your races."
He seemed thoughtful. "Well Sunday is usually the least lazy day for me. Sundays are for racing."
"Not when you're on break."
Max looked you in the eye. "Well I guess one lazy Sunday won't hurt anyone. You mentioned relaxing and watching movies?"
"I sure did."
"That doesn't sound so bad anymore."
You smiled and hugged Max as he finished the last bite of his food. "Let me show you how it's done. But first you've got to change into comfy clothes and not fitness clothes."
You grabbed his plate and set it in the sink. You could wash it later on a less lazy day. For now, you needed to complete your movie setup. You closed the curtains over the windows that the sun was shining through and you turned on your faerie lights that were strung around your living room. You grabbed the bowl of snacks you kept in the kitchen for such lazy days and set it on your coffee table. Finally, you got out your favorite comfy blankets and set them on the couch. By the time Max had returned wearing sweatpants, everything was set up.
"Wow, you have quite the movie theater", Max commented.
"I set it up since summer break," you explained. "The cozy room makes lazy days just so much better."
"I agree," Max said, joining you where you were seated on the couch. "So what movie are we watching?"
"Maybe Gran Turismo? I heard that was good?"
Max smiled at you jokingly. "I thought Sunday's weren't about racing when I'm on break?"
You rolled your eyes. "This isn't what I meant. But we can watch something else instead? Maybe Top Gun? I love that movie and it's similar to racing?"
Max nodded. "Sounds good to me."
You queued up the movie and leaned back on the couch. Max shifted closer next to you and wrapped his arm around you. You leaned your head on his shoulder and watched as the introduction to the movie began to play. With his other arm, Max grabbed your hand. You stayed together like that, simply enjoying the comfort of each other as the movie played.
---
Later that day, you and Max were now laying horizontally on the couch. Your bodies were so tangled together that getting up would be a struggle later. You were three movies into your movie marathon and you had not stood up from the couch once.
"You were right," Max mumbled into your ear.
"What do you mean?"
"Lazy days are great. Maybe I should spend less days worried about constantly training and more days curled up here with you."
"I would love that, Max."
"Just like I love you."
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juniperskye · 28 days
Text
Too Sweet.
Based on the following ask from @reidstheyfriend : Hotch x innocent/sunshine! Reader
I got this idea listening to Too Sweet by Hozier. I just immediately think of Hotch when listening to the song. I feel like Hotch would think he’s too broken or traumatized for reader because she’s so sweet and her heart is full of love and joy and that’s something he loves about her. He’s worried he would corrupt her and that she deserves better. So, most of the fic I would say it’s Hotch longing for reader but putting distance between them. Until he can no longer take it anymore. He needs her. He loves her.
I especially see the line where Hozier is talking about working late away from the phone and it makes her worry. I see reader calling/texting Hotch at late hours because she’s worried about him and he is too caught up in work to see her calls/texts.
Italics -text message
Hotch x innocent/sunshine! GN Reader
Angst/Fluff
Word count: 1206
REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!
Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, Aaron really doubting his worth, BAU canon typical violence, mention of Haley and Jack, reader has a sister, no use of y/n, no pronouns used for reader, pet names (honey, baby, sunshine) let me know if I missed any!!
That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.
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“Sunshine, you deserve so much more. I’m so sorry. I just, I want you to be with someone better, someone good.” Aaron said, his voice faltering.
“Aaron, wait. Let’s talk about this.”
Your heart broke at the sight of him. Aaron looked completely and utterly wrecked. You had a pretty good feeling that you knew his reasoning behind this conversation. Aaron had always called you his sunshine, he had said that you brought light into his life that had been long since dulled. You knew that Aaron had this fear of dulling your light, but you knew that wasn’t the case…you thought back to some of the things that had happened in the last few months that may have led Aaron here.
*Three Weeks Earlier*
Aaron had been working late, it had been a local case that was time sensitive. You knew this meant it was most likely a hostage situation or a child abduction, these cases didn’t offer a chance for the team to head home and sleep.
You had been keeping up with the case as much as the news and texts from Garcia would allow. You hadn’t heard from Aaron in a few hours, which wasn’t totally uncommon, however, Garcia had told you that the case had been solved and the team had been dismissed for the evening.
You figured he must be finishing up the reports and decided you send him a text before heading to bed for the night.
Hey baby, I know you’re working, I just wanted to text and let you know I am heading to bed. Jack wanted me to tell you he loved you when you got home, but I’m not sure when that’ll be. Honey, don’t work too hard…come home soon. I love you so much.
You hit send and set off to your room, after brushing your teeth, you slid into bed. After tossing and turning for a little bit, you hopped out of bed and moved to your dresser. You pulled out one of Aaron’s t-shirts and changed into it, adding a spray of his cologne. After taking a deep breath, your body immediately relaxed, and you climbed back into bed.
It was after three in the morning when Aaron came through the door. He made sure to be as quiet as possible as he moved through the apartment. He quickly checked in on Jack and then made his way to your room. His heart clenched as he saw you curled up in his shirt, clutching his pillow. He changed his clothes and brushed his teeth quickly before climbing into bed behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle. You shifted closer to him and he pressed a gentle kiss to your neck.
*Two Weeks Earlier*
Aaron had been home for about two hours and in that time, he’d greeted you, grabbed a whiskey and gone straight into his office. Things at the BAU had been extremely busy, this had been the first night Aaron had been home in three weeks. All you wanted was to have him by your side while you slept tonight.
“Aaron, honey, why don’t you come to bed? It’s nearly daylight.” You suggest.
“I, know sunshine, I’m sorry. I’m almost done!”
“Aaron…”
He looked up at you, finally noticing the exhaustion in your expression. He clicked his mouse a few more times, signed one last form, then got up. He made his way to you and wrapped his arm around you.
“Let’s get you to bed.” Aaron said as he placed a kiss to your temple.
Things had been like this more often than not, Aaron consistently working late, be it at home or the BAU. He’d be up until dawn, sipping his whiskey neat, going over paperwork. You’d fallen into this pattern where you’d be waking up in time to say goodnight to him. Knowing he’d have to get up pretty soon, you’d make his coffee, not that it took much, he drank it black. Aaron would get up, make his way to the kitchen, grab his coffee, and give you a kiss as thanks.
“Sunshine, you are as bright as the morning.” Aaron smiles.
“Honey...” You’d blush.
*Present Day*
“Sunshine, there’s nothing more to talk about. I’m not good for you. You have stayed up waiting for me, time and time again. You consistently have to go to bed without me, have dinner without me. I mean last month alone I missed three dates, two of Jack’s soccer games, and the Halloween party at your sister’s.” Aaron trailed on.
“Aaron, honey, it’s okay. It happens. The BAU is a busy job, you’re literally making the world a safer place.”
You could see the emotions flashing across Aaron’s face. The inner turmoil he was currently experiencing made you reach out to him, gently placing your hand on his cheek. He brought his hand up to cover your own, leaning into your touch.
“Sunshine I just want you to be happy. You should be with someone who has time to show you how wonderful you are, someone who doesn’t miss dates.”
“Aaron, don’t you get it? You have made me so incredibly happy in the time we have been together. I got into this relationship knowing full well that you would be extremely busy and that you might miss some things…but that doesn’t bother me. Honey you show me your love and appreciation every single day. You have my favorite flowers delivered once a week, that way I’ll always have fresh ones. You leave me sticky notes on the bathroom mirror with sweet notes, so I’ll have a good start to my day. You put my towel on the warmer so I can be extra cozy when I get out of the shower. You make me lunch each morning, so I don’t have to. This relationship is so much more than missed dates and waiting up honey. You are an honest, kind, loving man, Aaron you deserve to be loved.”
Tears were falling from both you and Aaron. You just wished that Aaron could see himself through your eyes. After things with Haley, he truly had never been the same, he feared that his love only brought destruction. It had taken months of dates and persuasion (from Dave) to get Aaron to ask you to be his. The longer Aaron had been with you, the more he thought that he didn’t deserve your love. You were the best person he knew; you could bring a smile to anyone’s face through your presence alone. He couldn’t let his darkness cloud your sunshine. And yet here you were, proving to him that he too had light, light that he had brought to you.
“I’m sorry sunshine. I just, I get in my head. You’re just so good.”
“Aaron it’s okay, as long as you don’t still plan on calling this quits.”
“I’m not going anywhere sunshine. I can’t promise I won’t doubt myself ever again, but I can promise that I am here for the long haul.” Aaron squeezed your hand gently.
“Well, that’s good because you are stuck with me.” You smiled.
“You’re too sweet for me.” Aaron said before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.
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diorchids · 4 months
Text
play date
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warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, no use of y/n, f!reader, making out, swearing, fingering, oral ( m&f receiving ), finger sucking, unprotected p in v, sub&dom!sejanus ( squint ), obsessed!sejanus, praise kink
a/n: this took too long ?? first fic on here so lmk ur thoughts
mature content ahead!
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sejanus seems so innocent. his nerdy nature, eagerness to learn, the way he never hangs out after classes. “he stays to himself, a lot,” coriolanus mutters following you asking about sejanus’ personal life. his brown eyes gaze up at the unprovoked mention of his name.
standing from his desk, he waltzes over to you and coryo, “why wouldn’t i stay to myself? you expect me to trust them?” sejanus points to arachne and her groupies. you smile, making him grin after looking back at you and coryo.  
dean highbottom makes himself known, clearing his throat. you crane your neck to glance over to sejanus, but his eyes are already on you.
the brief eye contact made you immediately sit back in your designated seat while highbottom asks everyone to partner up for a project, coming up with ideas for the games to come.
trudging your way through the dense population of your peers, looking for clemensia. you’d assumed corio was working with sejanus.
“looks like you’re also in need of a partner,” the tall boy towers over you, his curls bouncing as he tilts his head downward. his eyes narrow on yours, expecting a sad rejection, he squeezes his hands together. 
“i guess i am, projects must not be for snow,” he’d left. long gone under the guise of a bathroom break. 
sejanus clears his throat, “be mine, then, please,” his throat is jammed with saliva, his tongue gliding around the tips of his teeth. but you oblige, biting the inside of your cheek. “my parents aren't home, just in case you wanted to start there,” he clarified, making sure you knew he was talking about school.
you chuckle at his tense demeanor. “does this house have an address?” sejanus laughs, he’s less on edge, all because of you. 
he gets home with the piece of paper with your number on it, brushing over it with his clammy hands. his palms instinctively rub against his clothed dick, making him whine at the pain that needed taking care of. you knew what you were doing.
making him so needy, having him practically beg for your attention. sweaty hands trail up to the phone to dial your number, he hesitates to dial the last digit. 
“hello?” your voice raises goosebumps on his skin. he's silent, a lump getting caught in his throat. “sejanus? from class? is the play date ready?”
you sit up on your bed, awaiting his answer. “yeah, s’ready,” his smile could be heard through the phone.
“i’ll be there in, like, 10.” before he could answer, you hung up. 
knocks on the door accompany the sounds of lucky flickerman speaking on tv. the door handle shakes after sejanus forgets to unlock it. “one second–! fuckin’ doorknob,” the door opening to his smile, eyebrows anxious and twitching. 
“we can head to my room if you want,” he makes it clear he only wants to do the project, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. 
following him upstairs, you notice how nice his house is, putting yours to complete shame. his room has posters, quotes, and pictures of his family. “let's just start now, with brainstorming.”
his eyes flick back and forth from your face and your bra rubbing against your shirt. you draw diagrams of threats that could be implemented into the games, the only driving force is the thought of being a mentor.
your back aches from sitting in the chair for too long, the desk lamp straining both of your eyes. you rose from the desk, making sejanus slightly frown, being farther away from you.
you fall straight back onto his bed, a slight moan escaping your lips. a quiet groan leaves him, his eyebrows furrowing while looking at your pillowy lips. 
he fidgets with his hands, trying so hard to not palm his cock while you’re right there, “l’me touch you — please,” he groans out, desperately. this was something guttural, something begging to leave his mouth.
his words fall slowly out it. they take you by surprise, his desperation for you, his whiny voice. his legs go into what feels like autopilot as he walks towards you, so hungry.
“i’ll be so good, so, so good,” his leg between yours, you sitting up, being met with his face. his warm breath against your cheeks makes your breath hitch.
fingers cradle your jaw as his thumb draws circles on your chin, “talk t’ me.” you nod as your eyes analyze his face, taking in every ounce of his words, “whatever you want, do whatever you want,” pulling your waist to his leg, rocking yourself against him.
your wet lips smashing into his, your mouth being searched every inch by his warm tongue. his hands travel all over you, gripping your thighs and your neck. (softly, of course.)
“knees, now, please,” his words leave a mark on your cheek. so soft and yet so demanding. but you comply while sej unbuckles his belt, licking his top lip. seeing you on your knees, so helpless, so nasty.
he pulls his cock out of his boxers, and it slaps his stomach, he’s so achingly hard and big. his pants are discarded onto the floor, you both know they won’t be needed.
sucking air in through his teeth when you prod at his red, leaking tip. head tilting to the side with desperate eyes, eyebrows furrowing when you kiss his tip, he pulls his shirt off. his dick is huge next to your face, you run your finger up a vein, making him shudder.
“mmmf — f- fuck,” he babbles while pulling your hair into his fist, bucking his hips into your warm mouth. “m’ sorry,” eyes roll to the back of his head, his lips swollen from being abused by his teeth.
his bed squeaks as he flops down on his bed to sit, still pulling your mouth onto his dick. cock twitching in your mouth as you squeeze his soft but toned thighs, earning a groan and tug on your hair. “you see what you’re doin’ t’ me? m’ like an animal for you,” eyebrows truly showing how he feels about you. your hands wrap around his cock while you jerk it and suck his swollen, abused tip.
“show me how much you love me, sejanus,” keeping eye contact no brick could break, his cock twitches while you take him all in your mouth one last time. his hand finds its way to your breasts, caressing and squeezing them. 
warm spurts of cum coating the back of your throat, his big hands grip your hair, bucking his hips into your mouth. groans and moans fill the room as you look up at him, with those eyes.
his cock twitching against your chin, his face flushed while brushing your hair to the side, “that was s– so good, s’ good,” wet lips quivering from your nails digging into thighs. “felt good?” you say, breathlessly, sejanus nodding immediately, face red and hairs starting to stick to his head.
he helps you to your feet before guiding you toward his bed. rough, big hands lay you down before trailing down to the end of the bed. he looks at you, examining your face attentively before gripping your ankles and dragging you to him.
“let's get this off, ‘kay?” he tugs the end of your shirt, you nodding while pulling the shirt over your head, your lace bra making sejanus groan at the sight of you, so, so beautiful.
he crawls to you, wrapping arms around your chest, undoing your bra, chests rubbing against each other. your bra falls as he watches in awe. sejanus rises and moves to the end of the bed, eyes lidded, once again hungry. tapping your ankle, silently telling you to open your legs, analyzing your wet cunt being soaked through your panties. 
“so wet, all for me?” you nod quickly. his thumb presses against your needy clit, making you shiver and instinctively close your legs on his head. “m’ sorry, keep goin’,” grabbing a pillow to cover your mouth, to muffle the moans to come.
“no, wanna hear you,” his arm flexes as he grabs the pillow and pushes your hips up to make space for it.
his fingers hook onto the hem of your panties, pulling them off of your legs, exposing your bare cunt. he ruts himself against his bed as he groans hot breaths right into your clit. fingers glide across your slit, moving up to your clit, earning moans from you and your puffy lips. his tongue licks a stripe onto your cunt before latching onto your swollen clit.
long fingers traveling up to your mouth, and without a word you start to suck and swirl his fingers around in your mouth before him abruptly slipping them out and into your cunt.
lips detach from your clit to speak, “ah, takin’ it so well, baby. talk t’ me, please,” you nod before he curls his fingers up, hitting that sensitive spongy spot. “words, please,” he begs, gripping your thigh with his free hand, squeezing fat.
“love it, love your fingers in me s’ much.” groans fill your pussy as he goes faster, sucking your puffy clit, fingers going in and out. the coil in your stomach tightens with every sloppy thrust.
rabid moans leave your throat as you buck your hips up into his face, him holding your hips down with his hand. the bed slightly moving back and forth from his hips rutting against the edge, “so wet. so fuckin’ sweet,” his muffled words praising your cunt. your hips stutter on his chin and he thrusts mercilessly, in and out.
the fire in the pit of your stomach igniting as you cum all over his face and bed, cum pooling at your ass. his tongue swirling over your clit makes your eyes roll back earning a back arch off of the pillow. “fuck, i’m cummin’, you feel so good in me, love you so much, baby,” you exclaim while writhing under his spell.
his hips hump pathetically against his bed until he hears your words, your praise. his cum coating his boxers in hot, white seed. 
“nngmf,” his head falls straight onto your clit. your hands finding his curls, soft moans filling the room. his seed dripping down his leg onto his carpet, leaving a stain, a memory.
“gonna cum in you now, let you have all of it,” crawling up the bed, smashing his cum washed lips onto yours. “can i fuck you, please?” you nod while he pulls his cock out of his wet boxers and lines it up with your entrance, “s’ take it all,” before smashing his hips in and out of your spoiled cunt. lips abusing your needier ones, he couldn’t wait, he couldn’t wait to be inside of you, soaked in your juices.
his hips don’t stop from slamming your cervix in, ripping painful but pleasurable moans from deep down. his flexed arms hold your knees to your shoulders, taking complete control of your body. “you feel so fuckin’ amazin’. better than i ever imagined. so – so warm for my cock, so fuckin’ tight,” you moan while gripping his hair in response, nodding so eagerly, wanting and needing more of his dick.
drool falling from the corners of your mouth, so fucked out, so dumb for his cock, the cock thats bruising up your cervix.
“like you were made for me, fittin’ me all up in here, fuck, gonna empty my balls all up in y– agh,” his balls slap your slit as you both chase the high. the delicious high, the rewarding high.
your pussy squeezes his cock so beautifully, so perfectly. “g’ cum, f’ so good in me,” your whisper, egging him on. he grips your thighs so tightly, threatening to cum all up in you. “you wanna cum? go ahead,” his eyes on yours, “cum all on me, all over me, please, ” his hips thrust violently into you, animalistically.
your eyes dart to your pussy, taking all of him, swallowing his cock so well. him digging his nails into your plush thighs, thrusts becoming sloppy. he pushes down on your stomach to feel himself making you feel so good. your cunt starts to flutter, while the coils tighten again, threatening to snap. “grippin’ me so good, like a fuckin’ vice,” he’s panting into your ear.
“m’ cumming, sejanus, all f’ you,” you reach climax, cum piling at the base of his cock as your back arches, pleasure coursing through you as the juices fall onto the bed under you.
he doesn’t pull out of you, though, instead chasing his high. “you did so good, thank you, thank you s’ much,” he groans out to you, still bruising your cervix. you can’t even respond, being so fucked out from his thick cock stretching you out so good.
cock twitching, he speeds up while gripping your ass, slamming your walls into him. hips stuttering while his warm cum coats the entirety of your cunt, inside and out. he rides his high out, though he pulls out eventually. just to replace it with his thick, long finger. 
“love you, love y’ so much,” his bruised lips abusing yours.
he shuffles awkwardly to his bathroom to get you a warm towel, pulling the warm blanket over your bodies.
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i see very few fics of him like he isnt so fine, but i must speak my truth!!!!
768 notes · View notes
twinksrepository · 3 months
Text
Dante NSFW Alphabet
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Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)
CW: Smut, clothing kink, sexual objectification, restraints, toys, periods, heck a lot of things that come with this sort of post. All I can promise for certain is there isn't any physical abuse.
A/N: Alrighty, the other half of me trying to pin down Dante. I wish I could really pin him down. But enjoy the NSFW version of my Dante headcanon Alphabet.
You can find the SFW one here.
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
After fucking you senseless Dante wants to cuddle for a few moments first, to enjoy the way your blissed out body is curled against his as your chest heaves and your body is boneless from the multiples rounds. Afterwards, he’s happy to do his best to clean you up, holding a water bottle to your lips and whispering how amazing you are with his chin in your hair while his free hand rubs along your sore muscles. Whatever you need he’s more than willing to help with. 
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Dante is a fan of his thighs and your hands. He loves to have you sitting on his thigh and rolling you back and forth as he has you come just from the thickness of his leg rubbing against you. He knows just how thick they are from years of working out. As for your hands, feeling them roam across his body with the softer skin and just how much smaller they are compared to his. So when both of your hands are wrapped around his cock it feels even bigger seeing your fingers barely able to touch as you pump him. It gets him hard just thinking about your soft hands on him. 
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Dante likes nothing more than to see you covered in his cum, to see as the streams of opaque fluid trail along your body and pool in the dips of your skin. After blowing a load across your stomach or shapely rear and taking his hand and smearing it around your skin watching it glisten and the soft whines you make while he does so. What really gets him going is after he cums deep inside your cunt and pulls out to watch as it drips out of your flushed folds and onto whatever surface he was fucking you on. It gives him another raging hard on wanting to pump another load in your core so he can watch the same sight again and again. 
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He’ll never tell you but after the first time he used his devil trigger accidentally while he was balls deep inside of you and the way you reacted? It made something in him snap seeing you pant and squirm even harder under his body as you tried to pull his length deeper inside your core. The way your hands landed on the side of his face as you kissed him like you were possessed while your cunt tried to drain his balls made him even more enamored with you. It was what prompted him to ask if the two of you could have sex like that more often since it was the best sex he’d had in years. 
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Dante has lots of experience, he’s had more than one one night stand in his life. Someone as good looking as him in his younger years had no problems picking up, even with his bad luck with women. Those magazines of his have also had more than one tip for him to use in the bedroom. Once you came along though all that experience was put to good use, and he always seems to have a new idea for something to leave you screaming his name through the act. 
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Dante is good with any position but his all time favorite is without a doubt doggy style. Having you on your hands and knees while he plunges into your core watching your back arch as you whine. His hands wrapped around your waist and using it like a handle to thrust into you at a neckbreak pace. Slapping your ass as he fucks you senseless until you can barely keep yourself up. Your favorite position by comparison is deep missionary so your legs are up wrapped around his hips and your bodies closely intertwined, watching his face as he hits deeply inside of you. Your chests writhing against one another as the sweat drips down along your bodies with your faces close together. 
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
It is Dante. His mood when he’s having sex could go in any direction and it’s not like he sticks to it as he is a more fluid guy when it comes to that. If you make a joke during sex he is running with it to the point where you regret saying anything. 
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
The carpet definitely matches the drapes. While he doesn’t have much of a happy trail there is a patch of white hair around the base of his dick and dusting his balls. He doesn’t do much grooming, but he doesn’t let it grow too thick since he does find it kind of annoying. He enjoys having just enough so when you’re sucking him off he can hold you against his crotch and see your nose buried in the tangle of hairs. 
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Well when it comes down to it when it comes down to the intimacy part of it for Dante, the moment he opens his mouth it’s a flop. The man just can’t verbalize it in words as his attempts come off as cheesy or just the wrong thing. Telling someone how much you want to watch them squirm on their cock with intense eye contact comes off as horny not intimate. Now on the more physical side of things? That’s a different story. Even when he’s ramming into you as if he wants to break your hips there’s a soft brush of his lips against your skin or a tender caress of his fingers along your face. Depending on the position, leaning on his forearm to keep his weight off you but still having that close physical contact and that intense eye contact that tells you how much he cares for you. He just can’t open his mouth. Seriously. 
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Before your relationship got going you were his favorite little daydream, envisioning the way you’d feel wrapped around his cock. Letting the image dominate his head while he jerked himself off, wondering if as his cum left if his nuts if you’d spit or swallow. If he thought once the two of you did start doing it on a regular basis would help his libido, he was wrong. Finding himself using his fist more and more as it took just the thought of your ass in front of him made him rock hard and it was damn hard to slice up demons with a raging boner. 
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
This man has a clothing kink. Having you wrapped in his red coat and nothing else while he uses his hands, his fingers, a toy or his cock while wearing his signature clothes. It has his inner demon and his human side both humming in pleasure to see you draped in something that is very much his while your eyes roll back in your skull. Almost like a mark of ownership that has him licking his lips.  
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
As much as Dante doesn’t like people seeing him being soft, tender, or well anything in public his favorite place to fuck you is in the middle of the devil may cry office. His desk in fact. Having you wrapped in his jacket and bouncing you up and down on his cock, or tucked under the desk out of sight on your hands and knees while he’s balls deep in your cunt. He might try and deny that he doesn’t want to get caught and sure as hell doesn’t want anyone but him seeing you naked or cuming, but the idea of someone walking in on him does get him feeling that little bit of an extra adrenaline rush. 
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
It does not take much to get Dante motivated. Seeing your butt is always a surefire way to get him hard as Dante is without a doubt an ass man. There are other things that get turned on as well, soft little noises you might make while walking around the office or sitting in your bedroom. When he hears those low pants or sighs of yours it sends a signal straight to his dick that it is go time. He’s not immune to any seductive tactics on your part, like leaving a trail of your clothes to the bathroom after he has a mission to make sure he has a shower and a few rounds of sex to help you both relax. 
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Dante does not like being dominated in the bedroom. He might let you ride him, but even then he’s the one in control. It has nothing to do with trust, he simply doesn’t like being at someone else's mercy. The idea of being tied up, or having to beg for something turns him off faster than being sprayed with a hose of ice cold water. 
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
When it comes to oral Dante is a fan of both giving and receiving and a fan of 69, knowing that he can try to push you over the edge while you’re choking on his dick is something he enjoys. He likes giving to since it means he can have your legs wrapped around his head and having your thighs right there for him to mark up is hard for him to ignore. It’s one of his favorite forms of foreplay getting you prepped for him, he’s not an idiot either, he likes receiving too. Having you on your knees and drooling all over him? Yeah, he’s a fan. Oddly enough his skills are damn good but… it’s from eating pizza that’s been way too hot and trying to keep from burning his tongue. At least you get to take advantage of how adept he is at moving the thing around. 
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Dante likes it rough. He likes turning you into a panting screaming mess as he rams into you with enough force to leave bruises. Part of it is he doesn’t always know his own strength and the other part is he likes seeing what you can handle. His intention is never to cause you pain but damn does he love to snap his hips against your body hard enough that you jolt from it. He can be sensual if he wants but it’s hard for him, because feeling your tight walls wrapped around his cock and wanting to feel you squeeze his length when you cum isn’t something he can always hold himself back from. If it’s something you want he will try, try being the operative word.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Dante isn’t the biggest fan of quickies. If he has one it’s more because of a need that neither of you can put off. He’d much rather take his time with you since he knows he can go for multiple rounds and he’d prefer that when the two of you are done he can leave you in a boneless puddle. 
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Risk themselves aren’t in his forte in the sense of public or semi public sex. Not to say he’d be totally against the idea of banging you against a tree in a city park late at night, but it’s not in the forefront of his mind. Experimenting in the bedroom he is a fan of though, as long as he gets to keep his control. You wanna try temperature play? He’s down, have ice placed on both of your skin. Rutting into you from behind while the two of watch yourself in the mirror and try to get better at dirty talk? Fuck yea. Dante will try anything once and if it doesn’t work out? Move on. If it does and you both really enjoy it, it gets added to the list of likes. 
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Sorry hips, Dante can go, and go, and go. I mean all that muscle and demonic strength does dip into his stamina in every sense of the word. If he could have a marathon session of sex with you, you’d need to have your body in a cast because Dante would break you before he was out of steam. As for how long he can last? It all depends on what he’s doing. If it is the rare quickie it’s still ten minutes or so before he’s blowing load and from the start he’s trying to cum. He has to put effort into cuming quickly, which he does find annoying since seeing you covered in his cum is one of his favorite things. 
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He didn’t own toys before you. What was the point of a pocket pussy when he’d break them after using them once before of how rough he was with the plastic? After you though? He likes bullet vibrators that can be placed between the two of you, or ones he can hold after you cum to drag out your orgasm until you’re screaming for him to stop. He also didn’t realize how he could use them to help speed up his own orgasms when pressing them to the underside of his balls. Suffice to say, he becomes a fan of them real quick. 
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Dante is the king of teasing and he is well aware of it. Dragging his mouth, his fingers anywhere but where you want him to be as he riles you up. Or times when he tells you he wants you a panting mess before he even touches you and you agree he can do whatever he wants and takes full advantage. Tying you up so you can’t move and he’s got your spread open for him, tracing one finger along your ribs and watching your chest heave trying to get more of his skin touching yours. It also isn’t beneath him to tie you to one of his devil arms and watch as you’re held there in place with something he uses to protect you also being used to keep you in place until you’re screaming for him to fuck you. 
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
This man can HOWL when he wants to. He can be loud enough that any traffic down the street from the devil may cry office could hear him. His grunts and groans ring in the air of whatever space the two of you are having sex in, though he does try to keep the volume down by biting into his lip. He doesn’t need to draw more attention to the two of you or bellow your name loud enough for any of his enemies to hear as he empties himself in your tight body. 
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Dante is way more into period sex than he thought he would be. For a man that sees as much blood as he does, he never thought he’d like seeing his dick covered in it, and he doesn’t like the visual. What has him into it is the added sensation from your body trying to expel the lining, the way you react even more to him as you’re more sensitive with the extra blood flow to the area. Yea, he likes the way you arch your back as if you were snapped in half while your cunt tries to drain his balls.  
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Dante is about average in length, but he is girthy and covered in veins so he is very fun to trace with your tongue. He also knows how to make great use of his dick to make sure you have a good time regardless as to what the two of you are doing. 
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
High. This man might be able to put on a face of nonchalant but he is horny all the time and ready to fuck. It sort of surprises you as your relationship with the man gets going and you realize just how high it actually is. The two of you also make a discovery that neither of you is sure how you feel about it. For a while Dante gets to a point where he starts wanting to fucking you harder and harder, bending you like a pretzel to reach as deep inside your slick walls as he can. Turns out his demonic senses can tell when you’re ovulating and it sets off the need in him to breed. Lucky you and good thing you have a damn good birth control. 
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Sex isn’t the deciding factor in how quickly he falls asleep after, its how his day has been. With his stamina, he’s never as tired as you are afterward. Which works out great for him, because after it’s all said and done if you had been planning to stay the night with him after your both cleaned up (no matter how much be grumbles about it) it means he can watch you fall asleep. He might be a bed hog but he’d rather watch you drift off into slumber before letting himself follow behind you.
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Hope you all had fun reading this.
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togrowoldinv · 6 months
Text
Working Out
Beefy!Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Natasha has a penis (she/her pronouns used), kissing, cursing, teasing, blow jobs, Nat being really super beefy
Note: Y’all can thank @dirtyvulture for this one lol. A great idea. Enjoy the beefiness!
Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist
Your ideal date was not exactly spending time at the gym, but when Natasha asked you to join her, you didn’t want to say no. Never really one to workout, you figure you’ll just stand around and watch Natasha.
Seeing her in action is your idea of a perfect date. Her body is muscular, and she knows what it does to you. Nat called you and asked you to go with her, so you got dressed and waited for her to pick you up.
She pulled up in her sports car. You got in, and she placed a kiss on your lips. You didn’t take note of her clothing until you went into the gym together.
Now, you watch as she prepares the squat rack. Her short shorts leave very little to your imagination. Her thighs flex with her every movement. You’re sure she can see your eyes on her. She pulls her shorts further up her legs to ‘move them out of her way’ but mostly so your eyes fall directly to what’s in between them.
“Do you need help, sweetheart?” Nat asks you, never stopping her squats. She glances at the equipment next to you that you forgot to pretend to use.
“Oh, I- yeah, I guess so,” you say. Nat smirks and places her weights on the ground.
Nat lifts her tank top up and wipes the sweat from her face. That gives you a long look at her perfectly sculpted abs. You love to run your hands over them.
She crosses the floor to reach you. Nat steps around you and puts a hand on your back.
“Have you ever done pull-ups before?” Nat asks.
“Maybe a few times,” you reply. “I’m not so good at them.”
“That’s alright,” Natasha replies. “Watch me.”
She taps your back before she moves her hands to your hips. She moves you to the side, but not before pressing her hips against yours.
“Fuck,” you mumble.
Natasha just chuckles and lifts her arms up to grab the pull up bar. She does so easily. Nat lifts herself up with ease. Her biceps make the perfect shape as she moves up and down. Natasha smiles at you the entire time. She knows she’s hot.
“Yeah, I’m never going to be able to do those,” you say, mesmerized by her.
“That’s alright, baby,” Nat says. “We’ll start you with something easier.”
She lets go of the bar and wraps an arm around your shoulder. Walking across the gym, she finds what she’s looking for. A dumbbell without too much weight on it, but enough to make you sweat.
“Okay, I’m going to show you how to lift this and we’ll do some curls,” Nat explains. Her voice is unnecessarily raspy as she says it. You wonder if she’s turned on too.
Nat steps behind you. She stands so close that you know she’s turned on too.
“Bend down and pick it up,” Nat says.
“What?” You ask. You weren’t really listening.
“Pick up the bar,” Natasha explains. “Don’t hurt your back though.”
“Okay,” you say quietly.
You begin to bend over, but Natasha’s hands pull you back upright.
“You need to squat down at an angle to protect your back. Try again,” Natasha says.
“Nat, I don’t think I’m meant to workout,” you tell her.
“That’s alright, baby. Try this just once. Please?” Nat asks. Oh, she knows what she’s doing. She presses her front into you and says the words right into your ear. “I’ll basically do it for you.”
“Okay. For you, I’ll try.”
“Good girl,” Nat says.
She moves her arms around your body and essentially moves your entire body in the right motion. You grip the bar, and her hands help you hold the weight. Once you’re upright again, Natasha moves your arms to curl up and down.
“Am I doing it, right?” You ask.
“You are, sweetheart. Good job,” Natasha says. She kisses your cheek, and you almost lose focus. Luckily, she holds the bar firmly. “Two more.”
You count together and then she helps you put the bar back onto the ground. Feeling the smallest workout high, you grin and turn to face Nat.
“Thanks for the help,” you tell her.
“You’re welcome, babe,” Natasha says.
She leans down and kisses your lips softly. You kiss her back, probably a little too deeply. She moans and brings a hand to the back of your neck. Your hand comes to the hardness in her shorts. She groans deeply.
“We should get out of here,” you say against her lips.
“I still need to do my crunches,” Nat says.
You pout, and Natasha laughs at you, so you pout even more. She kisses your lips and drops to the floor to do her crunches.
You decide to tease her while she does them. You kneel next to her, and with every crunch she does, you almost kiss her lips. She begins to chase after your lips.
“Babe, what are you doing?” Natasha asks.
“Nothing,” you say, shrugging.
Nat sits up completely and pulls you closer by your shirt.
“Are you teasing me?” She asks, her eyes move between your lips and eyes.
“Maybe,” you say simply.
Natasha smirks. She stands up and offers you her hand. She gets that you’re ready to go. You take her hand and walk to the car. When she opens the door for you, she kisses you and helps you in.
About halfway to your place, you get the feeling you can’t wait any longer to taste Natasha. You reach across the center console and palm her cock over her shorts.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” Natasha hisses. “I’m driving.”
“Keep your eyes on the road then,” you tell her.
You move her waistband of her shorts and boxers down to pull her cock out of the material. Your move your hand over her length. She tries to keep her focus on the road. Nat does okay until you lean over and take her cock in your mouth.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Nat mumbles.
You hum against her. You move your tongue over the tip as her dick begins to drip. You suck her and fondle your hands over the base of her. Her hips stutter as you get her closer.
“Fuck, I’m going to come,” Natasha says.
“Come for me, Natasha,” you say, moving your hand over her again.
“Oh, god,” Natasha says. She swerves on the road just a bit as she comes. “Y/n!”
She comes hard. Some goes in your mouth and some onto her clothes. You keep moving your hand over her as she comes down from her high.
Soon, you’re home. You kiss her and she groans at the taste of herself on your tongue. Nat practically pools you out of the car and into the house.
Once inside, she kisses you and pushes you against the wall. She lifts your shirt over your head and she grabs your breasts. Her strong hands massage them as her lips attach to your nipples. You move your hands to push down her shorts and boxers.
Natasha’s cock presses against your stomach now as she continues to suck your nipples.
“Nat,” you whine breathlessly at the feeling. “I need you.”
“I know, baby. I know,” she replies.
She pulls your pants part of the way down and moves the tip of her cock through your folds. Feeling the slickness, Nat grins.
“Already so wet for me?” She asks.
“Yes,” you say. “Always.”
“Mhm,” Natasha says. She pushes her cock a little further into you.
You take her so well. She pushes all of the way in, and you bite your lip. Her cock is big, but you can take it.
“Fuck, look at you taking me,” Natasha says.
“I can do it.”
“I know,” Natasha says. “So beautiful as you do.”
She kisses you hard as she pumps in and out of you. Her pace is harsh, but god you love it. You teased her for a reason. You knew she would act like this.
“Nat, I’m going to come,” you say, pressing your head against her chest.
“Yeah, baby? Are you going to come for me?”
“Yeah,” you say. She pushes in impossibly further. “Fuck.”
You come hard and Nat feels your walls move around her cock. Her cock twitches, but she doesn’t pull out.
“Can you take another?” She asks.
“I can do it,” you say, feeling the sensitivity of yourself sinking in.
“Just a little bit,” she encourages you.
You nod and Nat picks up her pace again. The sound of her hips becoming flush with yours fills the room along with moans from the two of you.
“Come with me,” Natasha says. “You can do it, sweetheart.”
You come at the feeling of Natasha’s cock buried deep in you. She pulls out quickly and holds her cock as strings of cum shoot out onto your pussy. She brushes her cock over your pussy as she comes down from her high.
“Fuck baby,” Natasha says, breathing heavily.
“That was so-”
“Yeah,” Nat agrees. She kisses you softly and you two decide to shower together. Maybe the gym date was ideal after all.
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