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#how is everybody feeling tonight? i am not feeling good :))
amillixnvoices · 2 months
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#;;you can read all about it ( memes )#;;it's time to turn it up game on ( queue )#;;you've got the words to change a nation ( ooc )#;;now it's just me myself and i ( lockwood )#;;don't rain on my parade ( rachel )#;;i don't have any reasons i've left them all behind ( marley )#;;here comes the sun ( dani )#;;when the bones are good the rest don't matter ( buck )#;;she's the king of new york ( katherine )#;;there's just no telling how far i'll go ( sarah )#;;everyone thinks that i have it all ( morgana )#;;i truly believe i am quite capable of something more ( eloise )#;;restless hearts sleep alone tonight ( brimsley )#;;sometimes you just jump and hope it's not a cliff ( henry )#;;i was born to run i don't belong to anyone ( june )#;;everybody stares as she goes by 'cause they can see the flame that's in her eyes ( nora )#;;it's so empty living behind these castle walls ( martha )#;;you can just...feel ( nick )#;;and sings a solitary song that whistles in the wind ( lucy )#;;and bring on all the pretenders i'm not afraid ( james )#;;not gone just lost ( nate )#;;au contraire mon frère ( mae )#;;and i'll be holding all the fines ( JJ )#;;second star to the right and then straight ahead 'til morning light ( wendy )#;;no one decides my fate but me ( belle )#;;someday maybe all my dreams will be repaid ( ryan )#;;i wanna listen to my own heart talking ( troy )#;;that's how superheroes learn to fly ( winn )#;;my shower head is very impressed with me ( ricky )#;;i haven't heard anyone try that since the noughties ( roxy )
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supercutszns · 4 months
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rotten to the touch; luke castellan
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series masterlist
wc: 3.2k
pairing: pre-tlt luke castellan x f! reader
synopsis: you’re pretty sure you’re an awful person. you’re pretty sure luke castellan is too. and you’re pretty sure you want to make out with him.
warnings: reader is flawed & not the greatest, luke is ... a little dark🫣, small mention of blood, swearing, lots of making out but no explicit nsfw, a bit toxic, & no more more ‘i can fix him’ or ‘i can make him worse’ it’s ‘he can make ME worse’
notes: this is… sluttier than my usual stuff so it’s not as good but i’m trying, feedback is appreciated! also i wonder what cabin we think this reader would be in, let me know where you’d place her im curious :) maybe i’ll write more of her in the future she’s interesting!! and thank you for 100 followers i am so grateful<3 designated song for this fic is crush by ethel cain
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You are a miserable, wicked, asshole of a person, and everybody knows it. Including you.
It’s unclear to you why you turned out this way—every reason to blame never satiates the fury searing your insides. All the campers hate you. The counsellors, too. Even Chiron looks down on the viciousness inside you. You are Camp Half-Blood’s black sheep; a mean, bitter person with no love for the people around you. And it’s not just for show. You know you’re rotten. You know the anger will never go away.
It’s evident in the things you think about other people—the way you pick them apart in your head, toss them aside, because they just don’t see it. This miserable, unforgiving world, with children sleeping on wooden floors because the people who created you think you disposable. Because they can just make more of you. More, more, more, until one of you comes out rotten, born of all the ugliness they have inside them. You are the worst parts of Godly blood. The wrathful parts.
Everyone hates you. Everyone hates a person with an unquenchable anger.
But everyone loves Luke Castellan.
He’s a saint at Camp Half-Blood if there ever was one. Handsome, generous, kind. Goes out of his way to help out the new kids and gives them homes in his cabin. He’s the best swordsman in camp by a mile. Shit, you’d even love Luke Castellan if you didn’t know any better.
But you do, and you don’t, and it’s complicated, okay?
Because there’s something you know about Luke Castellan that nobody else does: he’s miserable and wicked, too.
You see it in his eyes sometimes. The way they look at you at dinner, when you’re picking at your food away from anyone else at your table. Something familiar rises in them, and your stomach twists. His body tenses whenever someone mentions his father, but the smiles he flashes are so charismatic nobody notices. But you do. It’s exciting.
During sword practice, he quips back and forth with the kids and laughs whenever they take a jab at him. He’s light, easy, carefree. But you see how he holds back, the tension in his shoulder, the way the arc of his sword never fully finishes. So you wait until everybody leaves and he’s alone, with the training dummies and the setting sun. And you. Hiding.
He slashes through them and spears through their heads. You see it, the gnashing of his teeth, the sweat curling down his cheeks. There’s something there. A chasm he’s hopeless to fill.
Before you know it, you’re going out of your way to catch him training alone. It’s creepy, you know, and awful, you know, but the more you watch him the more you see a sort of violence scabbed under his skin.
Whenever you see him now, the feeling you get is entirely foreign to you. It’s almost . . . longing.
Wherever she is, you’re pretty sure Aphrodite’s having a cosmic fucking laugh. And you’re sure she’s laughing double tonight.
The Aphrodite cabin is hosting some secret party for the older counsellors. You’re definitely of age to be a counsellor, but you’ve never been made one because that would probably make half the campers drop out. Chiron and Mr. D don’t know what to do with you. You’re sure you’ll be kicked out of camp soon for good.
But you’re here anyways, for a reason you don’t want to admit, and you stay tucked in a corner as the world around you mingles. Luke is on the other side of the room, lovely as always, laughing with a few other counsellors. He brings a drink up to his lips, and you have a startling thought of what it would be like to kiss him. And you’re fucked. You’re so fucked. Because for the first time in your life you want something tangible, something real. You want to hear him and feel him and pry him apart, and a part of you wants him to actually see you, see all the awful things that might make you the same. You feel like a teenage girl with a crush, and it is infuriating.
An Aphrodite girl comes up to you with a foolish smile. “Hey, sorry, you want a drink?”
“Fuck off, you idiot,” you snarl.
You wait for her to leave. She doesn’t. “You know, you don’t have to be so mean all the time,” she says evenly. “If you’re here, you might as well enjoy it. So yes, I want to give you a drink.”
“Have you ever thought that I’m not being mean? Maybe I just am.”
You glare at her. She looks you up and down. “Sure,” she shrugs, walking away. There’s a vivid picture in your mind of her falling through a hole in the cabin floor. It doesn’t soothe you, but at least the fantasy is there.
The night drones on. You’re sick of the smells and the laughs and the heat. And you’re sick of yourself. You can’t believe, underneath all your sourness, you came here to stare at a boy you barely know, and you don’t even know why. He’s fascinating, and you resent him, and he’s also beautiful. But he’s looked back at you all of three times tonight and you’re sick of the way your skin crawls when he does.
Leaving the cabin brings the relief of the cool night air, and the singularity of your body. You are the only one who feels this rage. You are the only one who hates.
To stave off your discomfort you walk around to the back of the cabin, to the crest of the hill facing the water. The stars above twinkle at you in spite. There’s a bitterness in your throat you want to wash down with something worse (maybe you should have taken that drink), but you know it won’t matter. Nothing matters. Those stars and whatever they hide are apparently the only important things in the universe, so why should anyone care about anything?
They stars only get brighter. It’s probably their goal to piss you off. You grunt, “Oh, fuck you,” to them. It’s not enough, never nearly enough to expel the rotten part of you. “Fuck you. Fuck off!” You groan at the sky. Nothing happens. Until:
“I’m guessing you’re not having a fun night.”
You whirl around. It’s hard to see in the dark, but whatever light is left catches a long scar on a cheek. Your stomach knots.
“Yeah, me neither,” Luke Castellan says, hands in his pockets as he meanders towards you.
Even when he’s close enough, you don’t say anything. If you do, you’re afraid it’ll be something ugly. Like I kind of want to make out with you. Are you awful too? I need a lobotomy.
The thoughts almost make you laugh. Been a long time since you’ve been funny.
He nods at the sky. “Those things don’t talk. You do know that, right?” He’s still so captivating, so self-assured, even when there’s no one around but you.
“Gods, you’re the worst,” you scoff. You really mean it, so you can’t look him in the eye.
“Then why have you been staring at me all night?”
It catches you so off-guard that you whip back to face him. He has an eyebrow raised and the itch of a smile that makes you burn with shame. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
He shrugs, leaning against the cabin wall. “I’m not stupid. You’ve been brooding in the corner watching me the second you came in.” He cocks his head to the side, adding, “Actually, you stare at me all the time. At meals and stuff. I really hope you don’t think you’re being subtle.”
You huff. “Okay, if we’re really being honest here, you started that! You do it too! All the time!”
His hands shot up like he was being arrested. “Hey, I never said I minded it. A guy’s . . . just gotta wonder. What’s up with you spying on me when I’m training alone, anyways?”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You watch me when there’s nobody else around. I’m not blind. It’s weird. If you want tips you can just ask me. Or if you like what you’re looking at, at least be upfront about it.”
You speak before you can take in that last sentence, or the way his smile took pride in itself when he said it, or how embarrassed you should probably feel. “You didn’t answer my question about why you started staring at me first.”
The anger (shame) blinding you made you forget how close you are to him right now. Close enough to touch, but not enough to see. But almost there. Almost.
“People think you’re mean,” Luke says after a moment, his dark eyes probing you. The words curl out of his mouth slowly, like he’s choosing them all with care. “You’re rude. You never listen to anyone. You judge everything. They all think you’re awful.” Again, he looks you over. “I’m not so sure.”
“If I’m awful, then you’re awful,” you spit before he can say anything else.
He just shrugs. “Well, I guess that’s why I’m not sure.”
It’s irritating, his calmness. He has the same anger you do. How come he can just . . . shove it down? You try to unearth any fury in his eyes, but it’s too far back. Simmering. “Jesus,” you mutter, “You’re worse than me.”
He looks genuinely taken aback by this. His scar deepens when his brows wrinkle. “What?”
“You’re a pretender—that’s what you are.” It’s your turn now, to step closer, to make his skin crawl. “Look at you. Everyone loves you. You’re this perfect golden boy and you’re sweet and attentive and whatever the fuck but you know it’s one giant lie. At least I’m honest, but you just sit pretty and act like you don’t have that . . . thing that I have. Resentment. Insanity. Whatever you want to call it. We’re the same, but I’m the only one getting shit for it.”
Now, you are close enough to really see him. The patterns on the wood behind him frame the vision of his ever-shifting face. You realize that this, like most things are to Luke Castellan, is a challenge. You also can’t remember the last time you saw him lose one.
But when you play, you play to win.
“You don’t know that,” he dares.
“Oh, I do. You’re rotten, Castellan,” you sneer, index finger jabbed into his chest. You can feel his heartbeat if you concentrate. “And you’re not owning up to it, so you’re also a coward.”
However scathing you look, it isn’t enough. If anything it only makes Luke’s manner more playful. Nothing feels playful anymore. Everything, inside and outside of your mind, feels like constant, exhausting war. Maybe that’s why you don’t slap his hand off you when it wraps around your wrist, keeping it pressed to the middle of his chest. His heartbeat thrums through you.
He tilts his face towards you, grinning, “Then why do you want to kiss me?”
All right. What the fuck. It feels like you’ve been electrocuted.
“What the—what are you talking about?” You blunder, but he knows, of course he knows, because there’s something between the two of you that has been formed and understood by eye contact alone. He can probably read your mind. As much as you don’t want to admit it, you’d like to read his just as much.
He cocks his head. “I mean, you did call me pretty,” he teases, and it’s almost endearing. “You’re pretty like this too.” His other hand comes up to your face, and you’re surprised you don’t flinch when his thumb gently smooths the crease in your eyebrows. “Don’t call me a coward, heathen. Then we’ll both be embarrassed.”
The nickname makes you want to fight, but the touch makes you dizzy. “You don’t want to kiss me, Luke,” you say with all the control you have, which, right now, is increasingly sparse.
“You’ve gotta stop telling people what they want,” he muses. The hand on your wrist traces further down your forearm. The one on your face snakes around your hips. “One of your more disagreeable qualities.”
His words fan over you. That fire simmering in his eyes has finally come to the surface.
“One of?” You challenge.
“You let me make out with you and I’ll give you a whole list.”
You snort, hoping it hides the shortness in your breath. “What a charmer you are.”
His lips brush yours. “Well, that’s what makes me so rotten, isn’t it?”
There’s hardly time to unravel if that’s a question or a statement because you grab a fistful of his shirt and he kisses you. Your heart detonates. It is not rotten in the slightest.
His body is warm and firm. You smell the cabin wood and the drink on his breath. It all matters, and none of it does. You’re warm everywhere as he wraps both arms around your back, and the way he kisses is, unfortunately, exactly how you thought he would. Your hands are tentative in his hair. So is your mouth on his. But Luke is so deliberate in the way he kisses that you know he’s thought about this, too. It makes you all the warmer.
His hand takes your jaw and tilts it up. You know your neck is shaky with breath, and you’re pretty sure he’s admiring it. You don’t complain when he presses a kiss to your jaw, then another one, like he’s testing the waters. “You’re so nice like this,” he mutters almost to himself, thumb running across your neck. “If only people could see you.”
“Then they’d see how mean you are too, no?” You huff. “You don’t want that.”
Another kiss to your jaw. “Not yet, sweetheart.”
Whatever feeling is harbouring in your body right now, it’s so fulfilling it almost makes you uncomfortable. You want to reject it. You’re not supposed to want things. Worse, you’re not supposed to get things. Luke starts marking a path down your neck and you are so determined to enjoy this that you’d kiss a fucking baby if someone asked you to. You might as well be a saint.
He bites the pulse point on your neck, sure to leave a mark, and a shudder rips through you. You’re pretty sure the bastard starts laughing. You hit his shoulder in retaliation.
“Easy, heathen,” he reprimands in your ear, and you know he’s still smiling.
“Don’t—don’t call me that.” You hate that you start to smile, too, and that your stomach burgeons with butterflies when he pulls back to look at you.
He touches the corner of your upturned mouth, kiss-bitten and red. His expression is boyish. “Hard to when it makes your face do that,” he goads. “I thought it was impossible for you to smile.”
“Be quiet.” You thread a hand through his camp necklace and bring him closer. You can almost taste his mouth on yours, but he sweeps past you at the last minute.
He gently tugs your earlobe with his teeth and whispers, “Yes ma’am.”
Fuck him. Seriously. You might have to.
It’s a tangle of teeth and hands and smiles kept hidden, as you slip your fingertips beneath his shirt and he does the same, and you’re both angry and greedy and incredibly destructive, but it doesn’t matter yet. Now you’re just teenagers fooling around at the back of a party, and it’s the first good thing either of you have had in a long time. Luke leaves you gasping whenever his mouth hits certain places, maybe too many places, and he teases you accordingly. “So sensitive,” he taunts, pressing his knee between your legs so he can see you squirm. You rake your nails through his scalp and he tilts his head back to groan. It shuts him up for a while.
He bites your neck until you say his name. You trace lines on his stomach till he takes your hand in his own. You’ve been hungry for something your whole life, and you finally have something to sink your teeth into. For better or for worse.
After Hades knows how long, laughter floats out from the front of the cabin. Sounds of feet tripping over each other and muffled goodbyes. You pull away from Luke, chests heaving together. His hair is wild, his shirt crumpled, and he looks entirely satisfied with it. Smug little shit. “Party’s letting out,” you mutter.
“What a damn shame.” His hand rubs your jaw, and it’s too tender a gesture so you angle your head away to peek over the side of the cabin. You barely pay attention to the kids straggling back to their bunks.
“Is now the time you tell me all my horrible qualities?” You ask once you’re ready to look at him again.
He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Actually, I came up with more since I said that so I’m pretty sure it’ll take more than one night.” He fakes a wince, “Might have to spread it out for a few days.”
You roll your eyes, “Oh, you ass.”
“I’ll give you one for starters.” You feel like a tornado when he kisses the juncture between your jaw and your neck. “Your hands are too cold.” They’re tucked underneath his shirt right now, pressed against his back. You don’t move them. “And,” he adds, “you’re incredibly crass.”
“Thanks, dipshit.”
“Thank you for proving my point, heathen.”
The commotion at the front gets louder, and you know your time to go undiscovered runs short. “You meet me again tomorrow, and I start telling you the rest?” He raises his brows.
The prospect both repulses and excites you, although perhaps they’re hand-in-hand. You tentatively reach up to trace the scar on his face. A faint, jagged line that holds scripture within it. His eyes flutter shut for a moment. “Even though I’m rotten?” You ask, and there’s an echo of mischief in your voice, too.
He’s got a strange expression when he looks at you. “That’s not true.”
He leans down, angles his head to kiss you. It’s slow, but bitter, and he bites down on your lip until you’re pretty sure there’s blood. “Luke,” you murmur, and he kisses you softer. You lean into him like a hapless, lovesick fool.
After you part, he loosens his grip on you. The bumbling campers have gotten louder. He stares at you, and you see the chasm in his eyes again, brimming with fire. Same as yours. You know you’ll see him tomorrow.
He says, “You’re not rotten. You’re right.”
And damn it, you really do believe him.
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nereidprinc3ss · 4 months
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whiny and spoiled
in which reader is being a brat but spencer just can't help himself from taking off her clothes and going down on her anyway!
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: MUNCH!SPENCE (aka canon compliant!) oral fem receiving (duh lol) reader referred to as a girl, bratty reader, idk if this is soft dom spencer or if this is just pure unadulterated munch spencer who will eat pussy at the drop of a hat, overstimulation kinda, sexy and hot, will make u bust a/n: requests are tentatively open in that i may not complete them but i will surely consider them!! thank you guys for all the positive feedback, it's so motivating and i love that you seem to like my stuff so much! please lmk if you like this and what you'd like to see more of in the future! so many ideas and WIPs
You’re lounging on Spencer’s bed when he gets home, fiddling with one of his Rubik’s cubes and kicking your feet in the air absent-mindedly. 
You look up as he opens the bedroom door and gestures for you to remove your headphones, looking a little bemused at the scene in front of him. 
“How was work?” you ask, eyes tracking him as he shrugs off his bag and comes to kiss you in greeting. 
“It was fine,” he dismisses, hands braced on the mattress as he leans over you, looking you up and down. “Why are you wearing boots in bed?” 
“Because I didn’t feel like dealing with the laces.” 
“Take them off, please. You have no idea how much bacteria and filth you’re introducing to the place I sleep.” 
“Probably no more than I do with my hands,” you shrug, shaking the Rubiks cube in his face for added emphasis. He plucks it from your hand and sets it on the bedside table. 
“I’m asking politely,” Spencer says, raising his eyebrows slightly and standing up straight, probably wondering if this is the thing you’re going to push him on tonight. You chew your lip, cocking your head as you regard him. 
“I want to keep them on. They’re my good luck charm. People leave the scary girl wearing the stompy boots alone.” 
He circles to the foot of the bed. 
“Are you saying you want to scare me away?” 
“No. But I don’t need the boots to scare you,” you tease. 
You squeal when he grabs your ankles and pulls you down the bed, beginning to unlace one of your shoes. 
“Do these actually intimidate people?” he asks absent-mindedly, focused on loosening the laces. 
“I mean... I don’t know. Maybe some people,” you splutter after a moment, slightly flustered. 
“Hm. I guess I don’t find you all that scary to begin with,” Spencer admits, tugging the first boot off and tossing it to the ground before getting to work on the second one.  
“Shut up. I’m totally scary.” 
But you’re losing your steel as he looks down at you, eyes raking over your body. There is a hungry sort of sparkle in his eyes now—one that has become familiar and sends a thrill through you. 
“Maybe to people who don’t know you very well.” 
Your eyes narrow. 
“Don’t patronize me.” 
The second boot is removed and joins the other on the floor. His hands begin running up and down the front of your legs. You shiver.  
“I’m not patronizing you, honey. I’m just being honest.” The movement of his hands ceases as he seems to consider something. “Do you want me to be scared of you?” 
You swallow, eyes darting over his face and looming frame, wishing he would keep touching you. 
“No,” you find yourself saying. “But fear is respect. Everybody likes being respected.” 
“I don’t know if I agree that fear and respect are the same,” he muses, smiling ever so slightly, “but I respect you very much.” He resumes moving his hands, higher this time, over your thighs and under your skirt. “I just can’t imagine such a sweet girl being perceived as intimidating.” 
“I am not sweet,” you mutter, distracted by the way his hands skim so lightly over your skin—flipping your skirt over your stomach.  
“Right. You’re terrifying,” he amends gently, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your tights. “Up.” You lift your hips, allowing him to tug the sheer fabric down your legs and carefully off your feet. “The pink underwear are really scary,” he teases, snapping the fabric against your hip. 
“Shut up,” you repeat breathlessly, face heating. “You’re the one that got them for me.” 
“I did, didn’t I? They look good on you.” Finally, he looks up from the pink lace to your eyes. “Can I take them off?” 
“You don’t always have to ask, you know,” you breathe. Sometimes, the answer is obvious enough. 
“I like hearing you say yes.” 
You flush, because what he really means is that he likes when you get desperate. 
“Yes, you can take them off.” 
A smile flickers over his face as he slides the underwear down and off, making sure to take his sweet time. Every brush of his thumb on your calf, every delicate pass over your ankle gives you anticipatory chills.  
“Before I’m dead?” you ask, slightly strained. He tsks, tossing them on the bed. 
“Someone should do something about that attitude of yours.” 
“My attitude is your fault.” 
“Because I like giving you what you want? Sue me.” 
“Spencer,” you grit. 
He slings your ankles over his shoulders. 
“See? You’re not scary. You’re just whiny and spoiled.” 
And before you can defend yourself, or at least make a sufficiently withering reply, he’s leaning down, licking a broad stripe between your legs that for once renders you speechless. Any comment on the tip of your tongue dies as the tip of his becomes all you can think about, melting into a content moan while you rake your fingers through his hair. He sucks lightly on your clit until you’re rolling your hips and then he releases, moving to press kisses to your inner thighs. “Are you going to be nice now?” 
“Mhm,” you promise, wanting only for him to keep pleasuring you in that mind-numbing way of his. 
“Are you just saying that?” 
Another kiss. 
“No! Mean it,” you whimper. 
“Good girl,” he says, rubbing your outer thigh.  
The next kiss is planted on your clit, before he’s taking it into his mouth again and leaving you a whiny mess. You throw your head back and your eyes flutter shut, melting into the bed and not bothering to hold back your sounds. 
“Fuck.” Your voice is small, a gasp as he begins to flick his tongue over the bud, each brush against the sensitive spot making your hips stutter. He rubs your leg soothingly but doesn’t let up—you look back down to watch as best you can through your hazy, half-lidded eyes. “I love you,” you murmur. 
He laughs against you and the vibrations only make you feel higher, whining and bucking slightly when he begins to lap at your slick entrance—kitten licks so light they’re torturous. 
Spencer obviously has a goal in mind; there’s no hesitation and the teasing is minimal. He just wants to make you feel good. And it’s working. The man eats pussy like he’s in love with it.  
His name is rolling off your tongue when he kicks into full gear, firm, fast circles around your clit that make you dizzy and hot.  
“Oh, my god—” you cut yourself off with a languid, shameless moan, rolling your head to the side but keeping your eyes glued on him. He groans in approval as your hands card through his hair, moving one hand to slide affectionately up and down your stomach as the muscles there tense and flex.  
“Fucking obscene,” he mutters, pausing for another filthy, wet kiss to your cunt. “Taste so good, angel girl.” 
“Mm... wanna cum,” you beg, rolling your hips and hoping he’ll get the message. 
“You will.” Spencer takes a long, luxurious lick as if to prove his point, pulling a desperate mewl from your parted lips. “Because you always get exactly what you want, don't you?” 
“Mhm,” you agree, eyes screwing shut, but the reply quickly devolves into a stream of little ah’s that are so sweet Spencer has trouble reconciling their sanctity with their pornographic nature. And the way you unconsciously, innocently begin to pull him closer, trying to press yourself further into his mouth—well, it’s like he said; fucking obscene.  
Sometimes Spencer likes to tease you at this point, to pull away and say sweet and dirty things that always bring forth your most adorable, embarrassed, desperate whimpers. But you taste so good, and you are whiny and spoiled, and you make such pretty noises when you’re all soft and needy like this and he can’t bear to pull away. Not when you deserve to cum. And it’s thoughts like these that are the reason you’re a spoiled princess, he muses peripherally. Because he’s fucking whipped for you. 
“That’s so good,” you exhale, “just like that, please—fuck!” 
He knows you’re going to cum, and there are many things he could do, many things he could say to fuck you over for his own enjoyment, but now he wants more than just about anything he’s ever wanted to work you apart and taste you cumming on his tongue. So he keeps running a reassuring hand over your stomach, trying to remind you to breathe as you approach your peak. 
You finish, a slow wave of ecstasy washing over you, chanting his name as your hips sporadically roll and stutter into his face, and he’s making out with your soaked, messy pussy in a way that would never lead one to believe he’s ever been shy or squeamish or hesitant in any way.  
“Spencer,” you yelp, incandescent warmth radiating in soft waves from your core and slowing your movements as your hips twitch in an attempt to escape the continual onslaught of his mouth. 
“You can take it for a minute, honey,” 
A defeated, half-pleasure half-pain whine lets him know he’s won as he continues to kiss your throbbing cunt, but soon small, weak moans are slipping unbidden past the barrier of your lips. You realize he’s going to make you cum again and there’s nothing you can do about it but tighten your hold in his hair, groan, and ride his tongue as he eats you for all that you’re worth. 
The second orgasm is softer, blurrier, and equally perfect as the first. It threatens the already tenuous hold you have on your consciousness, strand after strand snapping until you’re barely hanging on. 
“Spencer,” you repeat, slurring as you try to shut your legs. “Please, can’t, baby.” 
“You could,” he says, sitting up and closing your useless legs for you, massaging the weak muscles. “You’ve done more.” 
“Mm-mm,” you disagree, chest rising and falling as your breathing slows. “Don’t wanna.” 
“That’s okay, angel. I’m not gonna force you.” 
You sigh, obviously satisfied. “That felt really good.” 
“I bet it did,” he chuckles, finally moving to lay down next to you. Immediately you curl up to him, and he smooths your skirt back down before tracing soothing patterns on the leg you’ve slung over him. “You’re so cute.” 
“Don’t go spreading it around.” 
“Never,” he promises, mocking but in good nature. The two of you lay in comfortable silence for a few moments, as you consider his decidedly unsatisfying answer. 
“You’re not even a little scared of me?” 
He smoothes your hair away from your eyes. 
“No, honey, I’m not. But I’m sure other people find you utterly terrifying.” 
You open your eyes to regard him ruefully, before they narrow again. 
“You have a little something...” you begin, gesturing to your mouth. He snorts. 
“Oh, do I?” 
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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 5 months
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DAY TWENTY-EIGHT: Dry Humping w/ Spencer Reid
a/n: HEY HEY HEY!! So I am fully aware that Spencer was a child during college so this is an alternative universe where he's of the college age 💀 This is basically season one Spencer cause I wanna eat him.
masterlist | kinktober masterlist | AO3
TAGLIST: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus
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You didn't like how the other girls in the circle were looking at him. Their lustful eyes eating up a very nervous Spencer, the man playing with his fingers anxiously.
It was obvious that he wasn't used to being in places like this; where everyone was drunk, high or both, couples and randoms making out and practically fucking in every dark corner of the room. You never thought that you'd see The Spencer Reid, your college campus' genius, sitting in a spin the bottle circle in a random frat house.
You had no idea who convinced the poor boy that doing this was a good idea, but you would be damned if any other one of these girls were to get their hands on him. You liked him first — not just liked him — you claimed him. Everyone in your group knew that you liked him, so the fact that they had the fucking gall to look at him that way knowing you were there pissed you off.
"Alright, everybody!" A random bro shouted from on top of one of the dining room tables. "We were going to play Spin The Bottle, but I figured it'd be better if we play Seven Minutes in Heaven, seeing as though we have a special guest here with us tonight."
You knew exactly who he was talking about, and as your eyes lifted to look at Spencer, his gaze was already settled on you, but once he saw you were looking at him, he looked away bashfully. His face flushed a pretty red and so did his ears, and you could practically see the blood threatening to spill from his cuticles as he picked at them.
Your eyes narrowed at the jock angrily, every part of your body yelling at you to tend to Spencer.
But you swallowed it down.
A large group of people gathered around, and then the first spin of the night began. People were gleefully coming and going from the closet, a few of the couples manipulating the bottle so that it landed on them.
"Oh, shit!" One of the frat bros called out loudly. You looked curiously to see all eyes locked on you and Spencer, the tip pointing at you and the end pointing at him.
You must admit, you were a bit… known… around school. You wouldn't say you were popular, now that was a bit childish, but you definitely had connections in a couple different places.
The poor man looked almost frantic, looking at you then looking back down, almost as if saying you didn't have to. Oh, but you did.
"Seven minutes, pretty boy. C'mon." You said as you got up. His eyes were as big as saucers, his mouth gaping akin to like a fish would. You straightened your tight dress, reaching out a well manicured hand.
"If you want this to be over sooner then get up." You whispered sternly. He scrambled to interlock your fingers, and you lead him to the closet that was already significantly hot from the amount of bodies that had been in there already.
"We don't have to do anything you don't want to." You reassured. "No, no… I-I want to, it's just…" He babbled, wringing his hands. "It's just what?" You pushed, stepping closer to him. He gulped, backing up slightly and knocking into the shelves behind him.
"I just don't know how." He didn't know how to make you feel good, how to pleasure you. He was embarrassed to admit to the girl that he liked, who was also totally out of his league, that he was a virgin.
"Why did you come here, then?" You questioned with a slight smirk. "Because… because you were here and I wanted to uh- maybe- I don't know-" You cupped his face, stroking his cheeks.
"Kiss me then, Spence."
"Wh- what?!" He stuttered.
"I said," You spoke, your lips brushing against his, "Kiss me." He gulped, looking down at your lips back up to your eyes, then back down to your lips again.
"Okay." He breathed.
He leaned forward, albeit hesitantly, and pressed your lips together. It started out slow, but with a lot of coaxing from you, he got comfortable. Your lips moved in tandem as the room heated up. You had no idea what had come over you when you placed both of his hands on your ass.
"Touch me." You breathed heavily. Your breasts pressed tauntingly into his chest, his cock hardening embarrassingly fast. "Are you sure?" You nodded. "Please."
He tested the waters with a light squeeze before shoving your hips together. His body stuttered as a loud whine fell from his mouth. You could feel his bulge against your plush body and Spencer wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole.
"Sorry, sorry." His apologies were frantic, but your nerves burned with need. "I'm fine with you grinding on me, baby." You reassured. "In fact, I like it." Normally, you wouldn't say you carried a dominating energy with you, but it was like you wanted to swallow the poor boy whole.
"Oh, God." He whimpered, but nonetheless joined your lips back together. You slipped your plush thigh through his legs, pressing it on his cock.
His hips jutted out, and you swallowed his cry. His grips on your ass turned deathly as he humped your leg like a bitch in heat.
"That feel good?" You cooed, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.
He nodded fastly, his lips pressed together and his eyes closed. He was lost in the feeling of the friction, perspiration beading on his hairline. You practially eat the sight of his deep red face up.
"You're mine. Alright, pretty boy?" You asked ferociously. You wrentched his head back, sinking your teeth into the sensitive skin of his neck. He nodded. "Say it." He yelped when you nipped at his adams apple.
"I'm yours, fuck- all yours!"
Your stomach twisted with a pleasant warm feeling, which only increased rapidly which you felt his thrusts grow sloppy.
"You gonna cum, honey?" You asked through your marking. "Yes, yes, yes…" He babbled. "Good. Cum all over me." He let out one last loud moan before you felt the warmth of spend seep out and onto the hem of your dress.
There was a knock on the door.
"Okay, lovebirds. Time's up!"
You smirked at the fact that Spencer was shaking like a leaf in your hold.
"After this, we are so going to my dorm." You claimed. "Yes! Yeah, yeah… yes, please." He all but shouted.
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hotvintagepoll · 28 days
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Propaganda
Margaret Lindsay (Frisco Kid, The House of the Seven Gables, Scarlet Street)—she was born in Dubuque, Iowa, then moved to England to make her stage debut. She framed herself as a British actress and moved back to America to try Hollywood, then starred with James Cagney in a bunch of movies. She was in the Ellery Queen movie series and The House of the Seven Gables. She never married (I suspect lesbian stuff) but lived with her sisters. She dated Cesar Romero and Liberace (I told you. Lesbian stuff.) Please include the pic of her in the tie [included above]
Mae West (She Done Him Wrong, I'm No Angel)—She is an absolute icon, the OG sex symbol. Every word from her mouth was an innuendo and she was proud of it. I guess one could say she slayed. She got Cary Grant his first acting role, as well. How could you NOT vote for someone who says such iconic stuff as "I do all my writing in bed; everybody knows I do my best work there" or "You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough." SHE COINED THE PHRASE "IS THAT A GUN IN YOUR POCKET OR ARE YOU JUST HAPPY TO SEE ME?" I LOVE HER!!!
This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Margaret Lindsay:
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Mae West:
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Her voice! Her body! She was thick as hell and SO confident.
Mae West is often called the queen of the sexual pun or innuendo, she was an early sex symbol and a comedy icon. She also has a quote saying "When I am good, I am very good. But when I am bad I am better!" which is possibly the peak of hot girl energy ever. (Including the clip here)
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for an era that didn't have much wiggle room when it came to women that studios wanted in their films, it's refreshing that she was in her late 30s when she skyrocketed to movie fame. she was also curvy and witty and raunchy, an absolute icon!
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Legendary sex symbol. Like 500 vintage iconic quotes and double entendres. "Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me? " "When I'm good, I'm very good. But when I'm bad, I'm better" / "It's not the men in your life that count, it's the life in your men" / "I feel like a million tonight. But one at a time." , "Marriage is a fine institution, but I'm not ready for an institution. " / " How tall are you without your horse? Six foot, seven inches. Never mind the six feet. Let's talk about the seven inches! " Look the pictures don't do her justice just watch a compilation and tell me that voice doesn't do it for you
youtube
She was a SEX GODDESS at a time when that was an extremely scandalous thing to be, and she worked it! She was sardonic, sarcastic, funny...and stacked! Favorite quote (from Night After Night, 1933): Random woman: Goodness! What beautiful diamonds! Mae West: Goodness had nothin' to do with it, dearie.
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i personally love this silly production number from one of her lesser known movies
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She was arrested for indecency and chose to serve 10 days in prison instead of paying the fine for the publicity, and she claimed that she refused to wear the ugly prison outfits so she wore her silk lingerie the entire time. Also one of the first historybound vintage fashion icons (although vintage for her was the Victorian era)
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usedtobecooler · 1 year
Note
Stocking Stuffer prompt: phonesex with Eddie and the not so innocent reader?
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smutty stocking stuffers day five — eddie munson x reader
Pairing | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), phone sex, masturbation, dirty talk
Word Count | 2k
A/N | just when i think i’ve almost exhausted all sexual scenarios involving eddie somebody will suggest something i’ve never done 🫣🤍
It’s pitch dark in your bedroom. You know that much as you groggily rouse from your deep sleep to the shrill ring of the telephone by your bedside, unaware of how long you’ve actually been asleep for. It’d been a long day, you’d gotten home and just passed out the moment your head hit the pillow, blocking out the world in favor of a peaceful nap.
You pick up the receiver, holding it to your ear, “Hello?” You whisper, voice gravelly and throat dry, and you so desperately wish you’d thought of taking a cup of water from the kitchen before descending the stairs earlier.
“Hey, sweet thing,” Eddie Munson’s cool voice echoes down the phone, and you find yourself struggling with not rolling your eyes, because of course it’s him calling at this hour, “I can’t imagine O’Donnell would be happy to find out her best student didn’t show up for tutoring her worst student tonight.”
“Shit,” You mutter, rubbing at your sleep crusted eyes and groaning, “Sorry, Eddie. I fell asleep, forgot we were meant to study tonight. I can do tomorrow instead?”
“No can do, sweetheart, got Hellfire tomorrow night,” Eddie shuffles around on the other end of the phone, and you wonder what the fuck he could be doing, “What am I meant to do now, hmm? It’ll be your fault if I fail this class again, babe.”
“If you were that concerned you’d bail on your silly little club to study tomorrow,” You hum in disapprovement, flicking the switch on your bedside lamp and flopping down onto your back, hand splayed out on your belly – comfortable, “What time is it? I can maybe come now?”
“It’s one in the morning, I don’t think mommy and daddy would like their little princess sneaking out at this hour to meet up with a delinquent,” Eddie’s chuckle is deep, and you find your stomach doing flips because of it, “They might think you’re up to no good, we can’t have that, can we?”
You wriggle around a little, cheeks flushing hot, “Maybe I want them to think that,” You speak honestly, a breathy little sigh escaping you, “‘Good girl’ like me corrupted by the town freak? People would eat that shit up.”
“Maybe she’s not as good as everybody thought,” Eddie muses, and you can tell he’s grinning by his tone, “Have a feeling you’d get a sick thrill out of that, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, maybe,” You agree, hand gliding down your belly to dip into the waistband of your pajama shorts, unable to contain yourself, your pussy fluttering just at listening to him speak, “Hey, Eddie? I might have a way I can make it up to you.”
“Really, do tell,” Eddie’s humoring you now, he’s already right where you are, bare cock slapped up against his belly. He’s never been so fucking glad to sleep naked in his life.
“Yeah,” Your breath hitches as you dip your hand into your pretty underwear, fingers gliding through your folds to find them already soaked, you shudder at the feeling, “What’re you wearing?”
Eddie barks out a laugh, the unexpectedness of your bold question catching him completely by surprise, “Nothing,” He answers honestly, cock kicking up against his belly, leaving a smear of precum behind, “What about you? Probably a virginal white nightgown, knowing you.”
“Shorts and panties, some ratty old shirt – they’re black, though. Good girls don't always have to be virgins,” You remind him, and you catch the strained noise that comes from his throat on the other end, vibrating straight to your cunt. You swipe your fingers over your clit, sating the hunger only momentarily, “Wanna touch yourself?”
“Oh, is that what we’re doing?” Eddie feigns idiocy, even as he leans over to rummage in his bedside drawer for his bottle of lube. He uncaps it quickly, squirting a heavy amount onto the thick underside of his cock. You make a shocked noise on the other end, “I like it wet.”
“Lucky for you, my pussy is always wet,” You deal the first gut wrenching blow, and Eddie whimpers in response. You hear his fist wrapping around his cock, sliding up and down to get him nice and soaked with the lube, “Go on then, tell me what you wanna do.”
“Finger yourself for me, sweetheart,” Eddie’s voice is gruff on the other end, clearly overcome with the pleasure of his own fist on his hard cock. It does things to you, makes your pussy flutter.
You don’t know why you do it with zero issue, slipping your middle and ring fingers deftly over your hole, catching and dragging on the entrance so you can get them nice and slick, “Fuck,” You sigh quietly, sinking them both into your cunt in one swift motion, “My fingers are too short, I can’t reach that well. Bet your thick fingers would feel so good.”
Eddie chokes on his own spit, face flushing hot, “You’ve noticed my fingers before? Dirty girl, maybe you’re not so innocent after all.” His breathing hitches as he thumbs over the head of his cock, hand working himself and wrist twisting at the top few inches.
"Hard to ignore them, Eddie," You moan, tilting your head to the side so that you can rest the phone between your ear and your shoulder, dipping your other hand into your panties so you can thumb at your clit, a raspy little contented sigh escaping you, "Those fucking rings bring all the attention to them."
"Bet you'd love it if I fingered you with them on," Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, trying hard to rid himself of the image in his head otherwise this'll all be over too quick, "Wanna see you come all over them. I'd make you lick them clean, but you'd like that, huh?"
You gasp quietly at his words, voice going straight to your core, "I would, Eddie." You admit, thumb swiping over your sensitive nub in time with your fingers fucking in and out of you. You're so wet that the schlicking noises boom in the otherwise quiet room, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on even more, "Then I'd sink down on that big, fat cock. It's big, isn't it? I know it is. Can see the outline of it in your jeans."
"You're sick, baby," Eddie loses composure but only for a moment, slicking up and down his cock almost languidly, not quite tight enough to send him reeling but just enough to feel nice, so that he doesn't fuck himself over and come too quickly, "That pretty little mouth needs shutting up."
"Maybe you should do it for me, then," You're bouncing off of each other in an odd fight, and you're unable to tell if you're both equally as submissive or equally dominant, "Stuff those fingers in my mouth and choke me. You freaks are all into that shit."
Eddie can't help the groan that escapes him at that, almost admitting defeat, squeezing his cock a little tighter, hips betraying him and fucking up into his fist, the name calling always did it for him, "That makes you a freak too, no? Wanting me to choke you with your cunt stuffed full."
"Maybe it does," You shrug, fingers slipping in and out of your wet pussy like it's nothing, and you grow frustrated, "Don't feel full enough, Eddie. Wish you were here, your dick would slide into my soaked pussy so easy. You'd love it, I promise. I'd let you be so rough, wanna feel you in my throat you're that deep."
“You’d like that, babygirl? Like my big cock rearranging your guts?” Eddie gasps, hand flying up and down his cock with a renewed fervor, the wet noises of his lube covered hand ringing through your ears down the phone, and you’re gasping out loud, crooking your fingers to seek out that spongy spot.
“Mmph,” You garble in return, and Eddie’s deep chuckle has you clenching around your own fingers, thumb slipping over the soaked nub of your clit, sending you reeling, body like a livewire. Eddie always had such a mouth on him even in public, you might’ve known he’d put it to good use in the bedroom.
“You’re such a good slut for me, aren’t you? You’ll let me take that tight pussy whenever I want, yeah?” Eddie’s demeanor doesn’t falter, as he focuses his attention on the mushroom tip of his cock, fist twisting around it until his hips are bucking up.
“Anytime, Eddie. I’m your dirty slut,” You cry, the slick sounds of Eddie’s hands on himself making your skin burn up, doing things to you that you never expected. He’s insatiable, knows what you want before you even know yourself, knows just what to say and how to say it to get you going.
“Oh my fucking god, y’r killing me, sweetheart,” Eddie groans, watching as the head of his cock slides through his fist, stomach coiling and muscles tensing, “Wish it was your cunt I was fucking right now, need it, baby.”
You whine in response, the slick from your pussy drenching your inner wrist as your fingers sink in and out, making a mess of yourself and the sheets, “Gonna fuck me in the van before school tomorrow, Eddie? You promise? Make a mess of my needy pussy?”
“Shit, you want that?” Eddie’s stuttering over himself now, gasping and clamping his hand down at the base of his cock to stop himself from coming on the spot, “Wanna go to class full of my jizz? Leaking down your thighs in that pretty little skirt?”
You nod. It’s redundant because he can’t see you but you don’t care, “I’m gonna come, Eddie. Keep talking to me like that please,” You plead, thumb relentless on your own clit as your body starts to wind up in a tell tale sign of an impending orgasm, fingers crooking and just barely reaching your g-spot, you ache for Eddie’s skilled fingers inside of you, finding all the spots you struggle with.
“Right there with you, sweetheart,” Eddie moans, throwing his head back and baring his throat, hand going straight back to working his cock, fist tightening, chasing his own high, “Can’t wait for you to ride my cock, like the good fucking girl you are. Tell me you wanna take it,”
“Wanna take it, Eddie,” You cry, walls clenching sporadically on your own fingers, tummy coiling up tight, “Wanna feel you in my guts, fuck, fuck,”
“That’s it, sweet thing. Come thinking of my fat dick in your tight pussy, pounding it ‘til you can’t take it anymore,” Eddie’s hips fuck up into his own fist, precum weeping from the slit of his cock, “Baby, you’re gonna make me come. Come with me, yeah?”
“Ed– Eddie!” You squeal, tummy unraveling as you come, unable to handle Eddie’s words any longer, clamping your thighs together uncontrollably as you gush all over your fingers, making a mess of yourself – the receiver drops from between your ear and shoulder, but you still make out Eddie’s gruff moan of your name as he spills into his own hand.
You lie there momentarily, catching your breath as you slide your soaked hands from your soiled shorts, grimacing as the cold, wet material snaps back onto your puffy cunt. You pick up the receiver, “Still there?” You ask quietly, trying hard to contain your smirk.
“Pick you up at seven tomorrow for school?” Eddie pants down the phone, trying hard to ignore how good you sound after coming for him, in fears his cock will kick up again too quickly. He needs to ask before you hang up and it becomes a forgotten thing that’ll never happen.
You grin, rolling your eyes, but your belly does flips thinking of Eddie’s big hands all over you, thinking of getting to see his cock for the first time, “Okay... bring condoms.”
“So long as you bring your pretty ass in that tight little miniskirt.”
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Text
Elementary, Chapter Four
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pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x teacher!reader
chapter rating: E (18+ ONLY, oral (fem rec), unprotected piv, dirty talk??, unedited/unbeta’d)
word count: 4.3k
series masterlist | joel masterlist
“Alright, everybody. Please remember to fill out your reading log during the break,” you talked over a room full of distracted tweens excited for the upcoming Spring Break. “Am I talking to air?”
“I hear you,” Sarah answered your question as she approached your desk, her backpack slung over her shoulder. “And I wanted to apologize for last Friday. I was having a bad day and Jessie was making a big deal about me leaving the sleepover—“
“Sarah, sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize,” you assured with a kind smile. “Have you talked to Jessie?”
“Yeah, dad took me over to her house on Sunday night and we talked it out. I guess she was offended by me leaving, but I explained to her that I just get anxious sometimes and can’t—“ She sighed. “It just feels better being at home with my dad. I don’t have to try to be funny or cool or whatever.”
You smiled at the tenderness of Joel and Sarah’s bond.
“But anyways,” she continued. “My dad wanted me to ask if you were busy tonight—he still hasn’t gotten a new cellphone which, if you’re wondering, is why he’s having me act as the messenger.”
“Isn’t he coming to pick you up today?”
“No, him and Uncle Tommy are in San Antonio meeting with a developer or something like that,” she informed. “My grandma is picking me up.”
“Oh, well, you can tell your dad I’m free like always,” you chuckled and tried not to think about the fact that as today’s parking lot attendee, you’d have to come face to face with the mother of the man you’d been casually seeing for three weeks now. “Oh, and tell him he needs to get a new phone so you don’t have to play messenger anymore.”
“Trust me, we’ll probably be waiting years until he finally breaks down and gets himself one.” The two of you shared a laugh.
“In that case—“ You jotted your landline and cellphone number on a post-it note. “Here.”
“Miss? My mom wanted me to let you know that I won’t be doing any of my reading logs this week,” another student approached your desk and very sassily delivered his news. You chuckled out a scoff and fixed your attention on him while Sarah went back to her desk.
“Okay, Michael, why won’t you be doing your reading logs?” You crossed your arms over your chest and waited for his response.
“Because it’s Spring Break,” he defended.
“Yes, I’m aware. That’s why I didn’t assign any homework. All you need to do is keep reading at least a chapter a day of your book—“
“I don’t want to read my book. That’s basically homework.”
You gave him an incredulous look as you tried to gather what little patience remained in you after a long year of teaching fifth graders.
“No, Michael. Homework is what Mrs. Hill gave her students—a packet a day. What I’m asking if you is to do what you’re already supposed to be doing—reading a chapter a day of whatever book you want. That’s not homework, that’s just an activity.”
“Well, I’m not doing it.” He remained firm, mimicking your stance by crossing his arms over his chest.
The bell ringing interrupted whatever onslaught of frustration you were just about to bestow upon him, his smug smirk boiling your blood as he turned and shuffled out of class.
“Have a good break,” you called out to the rest of your students as they shuffled out of the classroom in a single file line.
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“Hey,” Joel sighed out his greeting as he entered his mother and father’s ranch home on the outskirts of Austin. Sarah was sat in the living room on the floral loveseat covered in plastic while her grandfather, Paul, sat in his rocking chair fast asleep.
“How did it go?” Sarah offered him a smile as he rounded the corner of the loveseat to plop down beside her.
“Went alright,” he replied. “Got a good chunk of jobs lined up for me and the guys, so we’ll be good on work ‘til the end of the year.”
“That’s good!” She beamed, bringing a hesitant smile to her father’s face. Joel never liked to celebrate his successes—something he likely learned from his father. “Oh,” she tapped his arm as she remembered your conversation from earlier, quickly informing him about your lack of plans for tonight. “She also gave me her number to give to you.”
Joel watched as Sarah fished the note out of her pocket before handing over the crumpled up piece of paper.
“You think she’s home yet?” Joel checked his watch.
“Dunno,” she shrugged. “But grandma was talking about all of us going out for dinner tonight.”
“Oh, was she?” Joel looked disappointed by the sudden emergence of plans when he spent all day hoping that tonight would be spent just with you.
“Joel?” Mary, Joel’s mother, came walking down the stairs with a smile. “Bout time you came to see us.”
“I’m busy with the new company, ma, you know that,” he argued as he stood up to greet her, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
“Busy with the company or with your new lady friend?” she teased with a grin. Joel whipped his eyes over to his daughter who already held her hands up in defense.
“My bad.”
Joel chuckled out a scoff before turning back to his mother. “It’s new.”
“And? That’s all you gotta say about her?”
“To you. For now.” Joel followed her into the kitchen, Sarah trailing shortly behind.
“What do you think I’m gonna do? Hunt her down and force her to look at your baby book?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he retorted with a mischievous smile.
“Joel Miller, I swear if you do not give me at least a summary of this woman—“
“Alright, alright,” Joel sighed and looked to Sarah who was beaming with amusement. “She’s Sarah’s teacher. We met at a parent/teacher conference. She’s…nice.”
“Nice?” Both women repeated the descriptor as if it was an insult.
“Dad, you’re basically in love. I’m sure you can find a better word than nice,” Sarah reasoned.
“She is nice. Everything else is private,” he argued.
“Well, I guess we’ll find out at dinner tonight,” his mother shrugged with a smirk. Joel turned wild in the eyes and shook his head.
“No, no, no. She ain’t—y’all aren’t—no.”
Sarah laughed at her dad’s fluster and looped her arm around his waist hug him. “It’ll be okay, pops. Just breathe.”
“Oh, to hell with that,” Joel shook his head again, turning to his mother. “I haven’t even taken her out for a real dinner yet, ma. I’m not invitin’ her out to deal with y’all.”
“Deal with? Son, we are as civilized as anybody else—“
“Ma, you got a plunger? I clogged the damn toilet!” Tommy shouted from upstairs and Joel gestured in his direction as though to prove his point.
“Well not here. We’re in the comfort of our own home,” she defended as she made her way out of the kitchen to help her son. “She’s comin’ tonight! Better go on and call her up.”
“Christ,” he sighed and stomped over to the landline, his scowl fixed on Sarah as he dialed the number. “If she never speaks to us again, it’s on you.”
“She’ll love us.”
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Although it wasn’t what you were expecting for the night, Joel’s call to invite you out to dinner with his family was impossible to decline just due to how much you missed him. Even if you turned into a ball of nerves every time you had to meet “the parents”, it was worth it just to be in the same room with him, especially after the day you had.
At seven, Joel, Sarah, and Tommy came to pick you up, but for once it was you running late. You invited them inside to wait while you finished getting ready, handing Sarah the TV remote and watching as her and Tommy instantly started bickering over what to watch while Joel followed you into your bedroom.
“How is this the first time I’ve ever been in your room?” He found a seat on the foot of your bed while you sat at your vanity, finishing up on taming your hair.
“Because I’m old fashioned,” you turned back to give him a wink. “But also because I can’t seem to get you alone long enough to give you a proper tour.”
“I know,” he sighed and walked over to you, standing behind you. He leaned down to kiss your cheek, the warmth and softness of his lips curing something that had been aching inside of you since the last time he kissed you. “I made a deal with my mom. She watches Sarah this weekend, and I suck it up and allow you to meet my chaotic family.”
“Mm, so I get you all weekend is what you’re saying?” You smirked at him through the mirror.
“All. Damn. Weekend.” He kissed your neck as a promise, your eyes fluttering closed as you relished in his proximity. “No interruptions. Just me and you.”
“S-sounds good,” you stuttered through your haze of lust and Joel smiled against your skin, seemingly amused by his effect on you.
“You got chills,” he rasped, his fingertips trailing up and down your arm. “That all me?”
“Just wait until you see what else you do to me,” you purred back, earning a groan of desperation.
“You two done yet?” Tommy called out from the living room. “We got places to be.”
“Save that thought for after dinner,” Joel mumbled against your cheek as he gave you one more kiss.
Five or so minutes later and you were on your way to the restaurant, nerves now replacing the butterflies you felt in your stomach as you thought about what his parents would be like. If they were anything like Tommy, Sarah, and Joel, you had nothing to worry about, but it was the uncertainty that drove you mad.
“You alright?” Joel stayed back with you as you pretended to have forgotten something in the truck, Tommy and Sarah heading into the restaurant to meet up with Joel’s parents.
“Just nervous,” you shrugged with a soft smile. “Anything I should avoid bringing up?”
“Politics. My dad’s a big Republican, so,” he winced. “But my mom is about as liberal as they come, so at least there’s that.”
“So I should stick to talking to your mom, then,” you joked.
“Come on,” he nudged his head towards the restaurant and laced his fingers with yours. “I’ll be right there next to ya, and as soon as we’re done with dinner it’ll be just us all weekend.”
You took a deep breath of courage and gave him a cheeky but bashful smile, bringing a similar one to his own face.
“God, I just can’t help myself—“ Joel cupped your cheek and tilted your head up to meet him as he leaned in for a surprising kiss, your hand finding purchase on his wrist to ground yourself.
“Mm,” you hummed as you pulled away from him earlier than he would’ve liked. “Let’s not stall anymore. Don’t want your mom to think I’m a bad influence.”
“She knows me well enough to know I’m the bad influence, but alright,” he tugged you off towards the restaurant with your hand in his.
As the hostess guided you through the busy dining room, you leaned further into Joel. He didn’t seem to mind the clinginess, his hand letting go of yours so that he could slide an arm around your waist.
“There y’all are!” A stout woman you presumed to be Joel’s mother stood up from the table where the rest of the Millers were seated, a big, dimpled grin on her face that resembled Joel’s.
“Ma,” Joel introduced the two of you by name, his eyes fixed on you as you shook her hand and allowed her to seat you beside her rather than next to Joel like you’d hoped. You gave Joel a nervous look from across the table as he sat himself directly across from you beside his father.
“It is so nice to meet you, sweetheart,” Mary fixed her attention on you. “Joel’s been pretty tight lipped about ya, so why don’t you tell me a little about yourself.”
“Well,” you chuckled nervously, but Joel’s reassuring eyes from across the table helped calm the frenzy of anxiety coursing through your veins. “I’m a teacher, have been for a few years now but this is my second year in Austin.”
You found it surprisingly easy to talk to Mary, her warm smile and sense of humor similar to that of her children and granddaughter. You told her where you grew up, where you’d been before coming to Austin, about what you liked to do in your free time, but mostly you told her the story of how you and Joel came to be.
Across the table, his father continued to remain stern and silent, only mumbling to his boys or to Sarah every now and again to remind them to use their manners. He seemed like a tough egg to crack, and while you were up for the challenge eventually, earning his respect today seemed unlikely.
“Joel, you ever tell her about your singin’?” Tommy spoke up from down the table, his question bringing a blush to Joel’s face.
“Yeah, I mentioned it.” He looked over to you and cracked the most subtle of smirks, no doubt remembering what occurred shortly after.
“Well, you gonna sing for her?” Mary asked with mischief in her tone, bringing an amused smile to your face.
“Not here,” he sassed, tilting his head at her mockingly.
“Why not here?” You prodded with a smirk, your foot finding his calf beneath the table. Joel gave you a chuckle and shook his head. “Oh, come on. Please?”
“Ya know, I pride myself on my ability to not cave into peer pressure,” he retorted with a quirked eyebrow, daring you to challenge him. You bit your lip and looked down at your plate, too flustered by everything him to look him in the eyes—especially given the current company.
“So, Sarah, how are you likin’ the whole dad datin’ your teacher thing?” Tommy asked, and the question earned the attention of the entire table.
“I don’t mind it,” she shrugged. “Maybe I would if it was Mrs. Clarkson from last year.”
“God,” Joel shook his head at the mere idea. “That woman terrified me and I’m a grown man.”
“Oh,” Sarah called your name. “Did you tell dad about Michael?”
“Michael? Who’s…uh, who’s Michael?” Joel’s jealousy was as clear as day, bringing amused grins to almost everyone’s faces aside from the ever stoic Mr. Miller.
“Michael is my student,” you clarified and eased his concern. “A shitty student at that.”
“Oh yeah?” Tommy asked with a chuckle.
“Yeah, he’s—well, I guess I probably shouldn’t be saying this around you, Sarah.”
“I promise I won’t talk about it,” she replied earnestly and you easily caved.
“He is just the absolute worst. And his parents are even shittier,” you lamented with a laugh. “Today he came up to me while Sarah and I were talking at the end of class, and flat out told me that he wasn’t going to be doing the reading log during the break because his mom said so.”
“Why doesn’t he just fake it like everybody else?” Tommy chimed in but quickly received an elbow from his niece.
“I don’t fake my reading logs,” she corrected.
“Yeah…right.” He gave her a sarcastic nod and turned back to you. “I’m just speaking from experience. I never did any of that shit and I turned out…well, I turned out decent.”
“Yeah. Maybe I am being too demanding,” you shrugged, turning back to your plate.
“No,” Joel was quick to interject. “Don’t listen to Tommy—he couldn’t even get into community college. You’re the one who went to school for six years to do this. You know what you’re doin’, that kid’s just a prick.”
You couldn’t help but fall in love with him a little bit as he stood up for you, his foot pressed to yours beneath the table acting as a sort of promise that he’d always be here to do this—to remind you of your worth.
“Thank you,” you mouthed just to him. “Anyways, it’s his loss—and yours too, Tommy. Reading is fun.”
Tommy mimicked your smile and chuckled. “I guess I’ll take your word for it.”
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“Alright, don’t give your grandma a hard time,” Joel ordered Sarah as he hugged her goodbye in the driveway outside your house.
You watched the scene from the doorway, smiling at the way he swayed her and kissed the top of her head. If only all little girls could grow up with a father like Joel—not flawless, but as close to it as a man could get. There was no denying his love for her and vice versa, and the fact that you were being let into this beautiful family felt like nothing less than an honor.
“Alright, go on,” he ruffled the top of her hair with a playful grin. “I love ya, and I’ll see you Sunday night, alright?”
“Love you too,” she gave him one more hug before turning to you standing up the walkway. With a wave, she wished you goodbye as well, your smile widening at the gesture. “See you!”
“See ya, Sarah!”
Joel met you by the front door and watched Tommy and Sarah pull out of your driveway before he turned to you with an anticipatory grin.
“Well, just us now,” he husked, playfulness thick in his southern drawl.
“Whatever will we do?” you teased, hooking your fingers in his belt loops and tugging him closer.
Joel cradled your cheek and jaw with both hands as he leaned down to kiss you, both of you still wearing your grins through it. Walking you backwards into the house, you giggled into his mouth as you nearly stumbled over before he caught you.
“Clumsy,” he accused in a rasp.
“Your fault,” you countered and he laughed against you.
Joel’s hands traveled to your hips to keep you flush against him as he kicked the front door shut, your smiles fading as the kiss deepened into something so filthy even the humor of the almost-fall couldn’t penetrate it.
“God,” he groaned against your lips as he continued walking you through the living room to your bedroom. “I want you so bad, baby girl. Fuck.”
“Remember what we were talking about earlier?” you purred against his jaw as your kisses trailed down to his neck, Joel’s body pinning you against your open bedroom door. He hummed against you in confirmation and you smiled, taking one of his hands off your waist to guide it beneath the linen of your dress, his breath ragged as his fingertip grazed over your thighs until they reached the soaked lace of your panties. “This is what you do to me, Joel.”
“Jesus fuckin—baby, I need you,” he whimpered and sunk to the floor in front of you, his dark and dreamy eyes peering up at you for permission as he lifted the hem of your dress up. “Can I taste you?”
“God, you never have to ask,” you moaned back, taking the fabric bunched in his hands and holding it for him. Joel’s eyes dropped from yours down to the image right in front of him, his tongue swiping along his bottom lip at the sight of your white lace thong.
“You’re gonna make me lose my mind, baby,” he groaned again, his hands now running up and down the outside of your thighs.
The anticipation could have killed you, your chest heaving and skin prickling with chills from the simple sensation of his breath fanning over the wet spot on your panties, the lust in his eyes. Combing your fingers through his hair, you attempted to silently urge him on and he seemed to pick up on it, his hands sliding back up to your hips to hook into the tiny band of your underwear and slip them down your legs until they were kicked off.
“Baby,” he cooed as you draped one of your knees over his broad shoulders to open yourself up to him, his mouth watering at the sight. “I’m never gonna wanna do anythin’ else but stay right—“ He placed a kiss to your mound and your entire body jerked. “Here.”
His tongue swiped through your folds and you melted against the door behind you, your fingers gripping his hair now as you struggled to stay upright. Joel practically growled at your taste, his hands gripping your thighs as if he was holding on for dear life.
“Fuck,” you moaned as he tensed his tongue to circle your swollen bud until your arousal started to drip down your thighs. “That’s so good.”
Your praise earned you another growl, his tongue now flicking and circling, lapping and sucking against you until your thighs were shaking from the pressure building in your lower stomach.
“Tastes so fuckin’ sweet, baby girl.” He sucked your clit and made you cry out his name. “Yeah, just like that. Keep sayin’ my name, baby. Let everyone know.”
“Joel, fuck!” Your orgasm was imminent, the tingling in your thighs that traveled down to your toes and back up your spine fogging any sense of coherency you may have once had in his presence. “I—fuck, I—“
“I know, baby. Can taste it.” He shook his head and flattened his tongue against your clit, his eyes meeting with yours. You wanted to cry, but the pleasure you were feeling was too consuming. The only thing you could do as Joel sucked your now throbbing bud into his mouth was to cry out his name like a prayer—some sort of wicked salvation that beat out any other holier counterpart. “Come on, baby. Cum on my tongue. Wanna taste it…every fuckin’ drop—“
“Fuck!” You crumpled to the ground, your back sliding against the door until you were kneeling with him on the floor, your body shuddering as you rode out the waves of your euphoria.
Joel was quick to act, guiding you down onto your back while you were still lost in bliss. He kissed your face as if you were his most prized possession, his hands worshipping the curves of your still-clothed body.
“Need you, baby,” he whispered against your jaw as he placed a love bite there, your head nodding to give him consent to do whatever the fuck he wanted to do to you after that mind blowing climax he just gave you.
You only heard the clinking of his belt buckle before feeling his cock stretch you open, a choked cry slipping from your lips in time with Joel’s wanton groan. You peeled your eyes open and looked down at the place you were joined, delighting in the fact that neither of you were undressed, the neediness of the moment turning you both feral.
“God damn,” he groaned and let his head hang as he stilled himself deep inside of you after only a few thrusts. “About to embarrass myself. You feel too fuckin’ good, baby.”
“Don’t worry about lasting long,” you stroked his beard. “I just wanna feel you.”
“God, I—” He choked on his words and leaned over your body, propping himself up by his elbows on either side of your head. You wrapped your legs around his waist and dug your heels into his jean-clad ass to urge him on, desperate to feel him spill inside of you.
“Want you to cum for me,” you moaned, pressing kisses into the side of his face as he buried his head in the crook of your neck. “Cum inside me—“
“Fuck,” he shouted as his cock thrust into you faster and deeper, your wetness squelching around him and filling the room along with both of your ragged moans. “I’m gonna—fuck, baby. You sure?”
“I’m on birth control, it’s okay,” you promised. Joel lifted his head to look into your eyes, his face scrunched up in something akin to agony but you were sure it couldn’t have been further from it.
“Gonna fill you up, beautiful,” he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. “Gonna have you dripping for me.”
“Yes!” His cock was hitting something inside of you that was making you see stars, your mind going back to that pleasure-dumb state you’d just been lost in, and before you had time to warn him, your walls fluttered in time with his cock spilling inside of you. “I’m coming, Joel, fuck!”
“Me too, baby,” he choked out through a string of profanity and moans. “Fuck, so fuckin’—you’re perfect.”
The two of you stayed there for a while, both of you turned into puddles of post-climactic bliss as you laid in each other’s arms. Joel hissed as he pulled out and rolled over onto the carpet beside you, both of you turning your heads to look at each other with wide, almost childlike grins.
“Be my girlfriend?” Joel choked out, nerves thick in his shaky voice. You laid there speechless for a moment, unsure of how to tell him that ever since you met him you’d been dreaming of the day those words would leave his lips. So, you kept it simple, a smile gracing your face as you reached over to hold his face.
“I would love to.”
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cherrywrecked · 5 months
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princess — jang wonyoung.
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since you guys seemed to like these, here i am with another one.
cw: nsfw in the middle of the fic. wonyoung x fem reader. cnc. somno? sub!wony. mommy kink. you're wonyoung's makeup artist. mentions of chaewon from le sserafim.
jang wonyoung—she's everybody's princess. everything she does just seems so fancy, elegant, beautiful yet at the same time, innocent. a lot of people love her for it, but of course, as an idol, that could just be a facade, right? wrong. for wonyoung, she really is like that. beautiful, elegant, sweet, but more importantly, she's yours.
she's no saint. jang wonyoung was far from being innocent and all of that was your fault. sure, she was once a cute little lamb, but ever since she met you, she changed. still sweet, but not innocent. how can you call her that when almost every night when she has the free time, she drops by your apartment, begging for you to make her cum?
you don't have any schedules with wonyoung until next week and it was killing her. you, on the other hand, is so busy with the back to back come back shows of artists you work for so really, you don't have much time to think about her. not until you got a message from her just after you finished packing up your things from le sserafim's shoot today.
wonyoung:
hi, mommy! i missed you today. i've heard from chaewon eonnie that you were working with them today. good luck and i hope you get to finish early. if you do, stop by my flat and spend the night with me? i miss you a lot.
ah, jang wonyoung, truly the cutest princess you've ever had. you immediately started typing a reply for her, letting her know you're free for the rest of the night. it was only nine pm, anyways, and undeniably, you missed her as well. so it was a win-win for the both of you. you felt your phone buzzed on your pockets as you were bidding your bye's with your team, but you didn't get to view it until you were in your car.
of course, it was a video from wonyoung feeling herself. along with it is a message that read; “can't wait to take these off for you tonight, mommy.” and so did you. you can't wait to see her.
it was exactly ten thirty pm when you arrived at her flat. without bothering to knock, you just typed in her passcode and let yourself in. wonyoung wasn't in her living room, so you quickly called out for her. “wonyoung? i'm here, princess.” you said as you walked towards her room. it was open, and there you saw wonyoung in the same clothes she wore on the video, except she fell asleep. she must've been so tired today, but you came all the way here, you're not going to let the night end without having a taste of her.
carefully settling yourself next to her, you caressed her hair as you called out her name softly. “baby, wake up, mommy's here.” but wonyoung was sleeping so deeply. she looked so pretty asleep, but the straps of her top slid off her shoulder already, exposing a bit of her chest and you could see a glimpse of her pinkish nipples. you bit your lower lip as you let your hand do its thing— tugging her top down, fully exposing wonyoung's chest. her nipples were hard— probably because of the aircon.
not saying anything, you just started to play with her nipples which made wonyoung squirm in her sleep. god, she's so cute. you pinched her nipples, rolling both of them around your fingers as you watch them get harder. wonyoung, sensitive as ever, parted her lips as she lets out the cutest pants and quiet moans. “mommy...” she moaned asleep. she's dreaming—or at least she thinks she is. wonyoung shifted, her legs now spread just enough for you to fit one of your hands in between them. she was wearing cotton shorts with nothing underneath and you can see her pink, shaven pussy. you smirked, taking one nipple onto your mouth as you played with the other, your gaze locked on her beautiful, flushed face. “sorry, princess, mommy just can't help herself.” you whispered against her ear whilst your free hand traveled south to her pussy. pushing the fabric to the side, you exposed her cunt before using your index finger to lightly pat her clit, loving how wonyoung would squirm every time your finger touched her.
wonyoung again shifted, giving you more space to play with her princess parts while you brought your kisses down to her stomach, and eventually, her center. still with the shorts on, you pressed a kiss just above her clit, watching wonyoung's sleeping face as you do. no reaction, you hated it. getting bolder, you pulled her shorts to the side before you flattened your tongue above her slit. finally, another reaction. wonyoung's eyebrows furrowed, tilting her head to the side. you started to circle the tip of your tongue around her clit, and wonyoung could only moan in her sleep. she still thinks she's dreaming, but she feels too good for this to just be a dream, right?
you wrapped your lips around her clit, softly sucking on her sensitive muscle and that's when wonyoung found herself waking up. shocked, but she was feeling so good. “m-mommy, y-you're here—a-ah! m-more, please...” wonyoung, still groggy, has now finally her legs spread widely enough for you to fit in between them and eat her out. “s-so good, mommy... more, please. m-more...” wonyoung breathe out, one hand cupping her boob while the other held a fistful of your hair, pushing you more against her.
wonyoung was a squirming mess and you could feel her juices dripping down to her ass. you toyed her hole with her own wetness, teasing the younger. “f-fingers, please... please please! 'm so horny, mommy, please.” wonyoung begged through her lashes, her doe eyes that looked so innocent yet full of lust. you gave her what she wanted and slipped two fingers inside of her. “ssshh, baby, it's okay, mommy's here.” god, she's so tight that she can't even handle two of your slender fingers. wonyoung arched her back as she stabilized her breath, walls clenching tightly around your digits. wonyoung swear she could cum with them alone without the need for you to move them around, but of course, she's learned her lesson not to cum without your permission.
“m-mommy... so so good, f-fuck...” she moaned, hips moving subconsciously. this made you chuckle, seeing her so desperate for you. “yeah? you miss mommy's fingers, baby?” wonyoung could only nod as she pushed your head more against her. taking her signal, you went ahead and started to suck on her clit as you started to move your fingers in and out slowly, gradually increasing your pace. wonyoung's moans are just as pretty as her face. you looked up at her through your lashes and god, you can't believe that a jang wonyoung is caught around your fingers... quite literally.
it didn't take long for wonyoung to feel the familiar knot forming on her tummy. she started to move her hips more and clenched even tighter around your digits and you knew, she was close. not wanting to disappoint the lady, you started to flick on her clit with your tongue before slightly pulling away, “cum for me, baby. cum for mommy.” and again, wrapped your lips around her clit and started sucking on it harshly, the same time you started curling your fingers inside of her, making sure the tip of your digits hit her sweet spot every time.
“c-cumming! mommy, mommy! fuck, 'm cumming...!”, strings of high pitched moans and profanities escaped wonyoung's lips as she came around your fingers and face. you helped her ride her high by gently flicking on her clit, tongue rolling around her labia which made wonyoung squirm even more. finally pulling away, she grabbed you by the neck and pulled her down to kiss your lips, tasting herself on your mouth. “wonyoungie missed you, mommy.” and you knew that with the way she locked her long legs around your waist. you were sure that tonight was going to be a long, pleasurable night for the both of you.
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Use me as a cushion
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Hello!
I received some requests for fictions with other people than Ona, so here I am trying with Alexia!
It's fluff, literally pure fluff.
I hope you will like it! As always, the reviews are much appreciated :)
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The situation of the Spanish women’s football team was no longer to be explained. After the forced departures of Vilda and the president of the Federation, the fight was far from over. While you naively thought you were going to have a break, you were all summoned to the national team despite the various statements you made.
Like all the others players of the team, you were forced to show up, participate in a few mediation sessions while following the usual training. You were exausted, all of you.
But you know that your girlfriend is even more than you are.
Alexia, as captain of the team, participated in many more discussions than all of you put together. In addition to everything else, she's the team’s anchor for everyone. The one you can rely on, the one you can count on. And it was true, she takes that role to perfection. Like everything she does, in your opinion (not quite impartial tho).
But over the days, you saw her fatigue increase and her condition deteriorate a little more. You told Ona about it, knowing that your girlfriend trusted her completely and that she wasn’t the type to talk further. You were scared for her, scared that she hurt herself on training because of the level of her tiredness.
Ona advised you to continue doing what you knew how to do best with Alexia, to be there for her and take care of her. Even if you don’t feel like it’s a big deal, you naturally planned a small schedule for Alexia tonight.
So here you are, waiting for you girlfriend to come back from an other discussion with some thinking heads of the Federation. You hate them, all of them.
Your game against Switzerland is in two days and you already are in Sevilla. Even if you're together since like a year, you weren't always set up in the same room. Luckily, Alexia found herself alone in her room, allowing you to join her there without disturbing anyone.
Even if it means you two end up in a single bed. You don't mind tho, having a good reason to sleep on the top of your girlfriend all night long.
Lying on Alexia’s bed, you look again at the time on the screen of your phone while continuing to play the mobile game you downloaded. Sighing, you roll sideways, allowing yourself to smell Alexia’s shampoo on her pillow. It's almost 23:00 and still not any sign fo Alexia. Chewing your lips, you hesitate to send her a message but then you heard the door open quietly.
You sit up immediatly, startled Alexia.
"Madre mia" she huffs with her hand on her heart. "What are you doing here? You should be sleeping"
She frowns while gently scolding you, but you make your way to her to hug her. You smile while she melt in your arms, caressing her back tenderly with your fingertips. Alexia is strong, everybody can see that. Everybody know that. But knowing that she trusts you enough to let it go with you is in your eyes the greatest proof of love she can give you.
"I can't sleep without my goodnight kiss" you point.
She smiles and kiss you softly, but you don't leave anyway. Like you said, you have plans for her.
"Did you eat?" you ask her as she takes off her shoes, dropping them to the ground with a thud.
"Not really" she sights "but it's to late anyway"
You roll your eyes before turning on the table behind you. You ordered a meal an hour ago and asked them to find you something to keep it warm. You were pretty sure that she will come back to late to ask the kitchen to make her something.
"What is it?" she asks, approaching the table with curiosity.
Her face lit up when she lifts the lid and you can’t help but smile back. You promised yourself, if Alexia is everyone’s crutch, you’ll be hers.
"Tortilla de patatas" she smiles.
"Con tomato, as you like. Not sure if it will be as good as your Mama's tho"
You shrugs but Alexia made her way towards you to take you in her arms. The hug was longer than before and you play with her hair for a while.
"Thank you" she whispers in your neck before moving back a few centimeters. "But you really should have sleeping"
You roll your eyes once again, before you made her a little smirk.
"If you insist I can go back sleeping with Claudia"
You were teasing, Alexia knew it. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here with her.
"Not funny" she pouts anyway.
You smile again and point to the plate that has still not been touched.
"Why don't you eat while I run you a bath?"
Alexia seems to think a few moments, hesitating between going to eat or spending some time with you. It’s hard to have moments just for you these last few days.
"With bubbles?"
"With bubbles" you answer, laughing at her baby voice.
Letting her eat, you went to the bathroom and do what you said. Waiting for the tub to be full, you get lost in your thoughts for longs minutes, contemplating the foam mix with the hot water. You were pretty tired yourself, but Alexia goes first. You need to take care of her.
You don’t hear her coming into the room though, making you jump slightly when she passes her arms around your waist. You let her lean into your neck, shivering when you feel her smell you.
"How can I thank you enought Amor?"
You turn around in her arms and put your hands around your neck.
"Your love is more than I can wish for"
The kiss she gives you this time is breathtaking. It's like you can feel the love and the recognition she feels for your actions. When the kiss ends, both of you looking for air, she strokes your nose with hers.
"Come with me?"
"Nah, tonight it's all about you"
She pouts again and you bite your lips. She knows that you can't resist her when she does this. And you know that she knows. And she knows that you know that she knows.
"Come on! If it's for me you can be my personnal cushion?"
You laugh at her antics and just give up. Who could deny this to the love of his life?
"Ok, but only because you will use me as a cushion."
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mphountitled · 7 days
Note
heyyyy!! my brain gave me a half-assed thought in the nighttime starring best friend/perv!Lee Minho and bimbo!Reader. Minho's ALWAYS flirting with and staring at you, but you just (somehow) never notice. he likes seeing you wear those little outfits that barely cover you up and always mentions that you should only wear that stuff for him. one day he was just at his limit after another failed attempt at flirting. so, he just pushes you against the wall. you can feel how hard he is behind you, but you didn't see this coming so you're freaking out. and he just tells you "i'm gonna have what i want. so you might as well take what i give you."
-💌 (p.s. i hope this was coherent) ((p.p.s. make sure you take time for yourself to rest and just breathe bc that beautiful mind of yours is so so important!! <3))
𝐏𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲
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Lee Minho x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Language, Angst, Insecurities, Jealousy, Possessive!Minho, Smut +18 (Minors DNI) dub/con, Bratty!reader, Brat Tamer!Minho, Perv!Minho, Dom/Sub Themes, Mean Dom!Minho, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Grinding, Mutual Masturbation, CNC, Overstimulation
Fueling the Dom!Minho agenda
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You did not particularly deal well with being unliked. Everybody has to like you all the time and there is no concrete way to tell your best friend this. Especially while he's driving down the highway, with rain pellets beating down the windshield.
You did not look at Minho when you initially slipped into the car. So completely and utterly suffocated by embarrassment.
The call prior to being picked up had been less than savoury.
"Isn't it too early to be calling me to come save you from your date?" His voice was completely drenched in his ususual smug sarcasm, "Or was he just that fucking boring?"
"I've been stood up and I'm not exactly sure where I am."
Almost immediately, Minho forced you to send your location until he was speeding over to where you sat, in your little dress all alone under the awning of a Michelin star restaurant.
You had thought the worst of the evening was behind you…
The car is completely drenched in silence with neither you, nor Minho knowing exactly how the broach such a sensitive topic. You're embarrassed. He knows this. The only thing evading his understanding is why… Why are you embarrassed when you shouldn't be?
"At least give me a name or an address or something," Minho's voice is dangerously low and you peer up at him with wide eyes from the passenger seat. Seeing him so put together is wholly off putting. Dressed in nothing but his sweats and a polo shirt- all black, all Tom Ford- Minho's gaze is fucking deadly as he glares at the road ahead. His frustration manifests in the form of whitened knuckles gripping a steering wheel for dear life.
"Minho, I'm not giving you his address just so you can go and harass him." The fact that you even had to reiterate this is beyond your comprehension.
"Why can't anyone love me?" The rain droplets rattling Minho's vehicle only amplifies the question and for the umpteenth time tonight, Minho is overcome with mass frustration. Again, you should not be the one feeling unwanted. You should not be letting scum of the very earth dictate the trajectory of your self worth. To make matters impossibly worse, another car swerves into his lane, completely cutting him off from a seamless drive.
"I honest-to-God, just wanna have a word with the guy..." Minho says, swinging his head towards you, completely paralysing you with the depths of his endless dark eyes. Instead of waging a war with Minho (one you knew you couldn't possibly win,) you choose to accept defeat. It consumes your entire countenance as you sink down into the passenger seat, avoiding eye contact.
"Jesus, Fuck!" While Minho curses out the driver, you keep your head against the window.
"I think I'm cursed to stay single and bitchless for the rest of my life."
You didn't get it.
You were a fairly good girl, never once stepping out of bounds. Not at work: where you worked so diligently for a boss who didn't always deserve it.
Not in your adolescence: Where you never rebelled, not even once. You lovingly spared your parents all the heartache even after you matured enough to go to college.
Perhaps the reason all your dates ended with a certified ghosting was because you simply weren't cut out for relationships. That is the most harrowing thought of them all...
Minho's voice pipes up from beside you, effectively saving you from slipping into self pity, "I think you're overlooking one major factor when it comes to staying single and bitchless for the rest of your life," You're already rolling your eyes, "And what's that?"
You can practically hear the pompous smirk as Minho says, "I'm right here. I'm always right here."
Instead of responding, your tone remains wistful and airy.
"The guy took one look at me and gassed the fuck out of the restaurant." Your blood pressure is being shot to hell at just the very thought of the man (who had contacted you first, thank you very much).
Minho, who continued to glare at the wet tar road ahead, allows his mind to conjure up every possible way your 'date' might've died on his way home. Instead of voicing these homicidal thoughts, Minho instead, cleverly and cooly asks, "What kind of weirdos are you going on dates with?"
"It's like he decided reality didn't match what he saw on tinder and took it all back..." you conclude your rant with a heavy and listless exhale.
Your reply comes sickeningly quick. "The kind of weirdos that give me the time of day," and to make matters impossibly worse, you attach a pitiful and dry chuckle to the end of your sentence. "Not everyone is like you, Minho. Not everyone has the luxury of being the object of everyone's desires." His stomach sinks deeper and deeper with the sadness that coats your voice. Anything that might save him from this suffocating feeling at the bottom of his stomach brought on by the sadness in your tone.
"I just don't get it?" Your sad eyes watch as Minho pulls into the parking lot of his apartment complex.
"I didn't smell bad ‘cus I made sure to wear Chanel number five-" Minho can do nothing except clench his jaw. His grip on the steering wheel is deadly as he eases his car into the vacant spot… “and this dress Lix bought me for graduation- I mean he assured me I don't look fucking bloated in it so I assume I looked fine." He tries to make it through your pity party, really, he does. Whenever you found yourself in this state, slipping deeper and deeper into your insecurities, Minho found it terribly difficult to pull you out.
Difficult but not impossible
Instead of entertaining Minho's words, your mind wanders, “Maybe I'm just not hardwired for a relationship. Maybe all I'll have until I reach my deathbed is my rose toy and 5000 cats-”
"I'm telling you," he chooses to say instead, righting his shoulders and cutting off the engine as he forces that confident smirk back onto his face, "If you wanna get laid so badly I'm always a phone call away...."
And for some reason, that statement alone… that one little flirt becomes the undoing of your sanity. “MINHO BE SERIOUS FOR FIVE FUCKING SECONDS JESUS CHRIST!” You do not know, nor do you care if your voice is loud enough to bleed outside, enough to disrupt any passerbys. You've fucking had it.
“False. You have my fingers any time. Or my mouth-”
With men who disappoint you.
With men who say they'll show up but choose not to.
“I'm telling you I fucking failed this evening! I failed and you're not listening-
In what appears to be a snarky remark to the side, Minho mumbles, “I'm not the one that's not listening-”
Minho scoffs incredulously. That sunshine smile bleeds quickly into a dangerous glare and he watches as you type frantically across your screen. “Say what you gotta say.”
“I don't need your teasing right now, Jesus! The fact that I have to spell that out-” you release a sigh “Fucking never mind,” you feel utterly defeated, and before you brain catches up to the movement of your hands, you're already typing frantically for a ride assistance app.
“I didn't ask you to come pick me up, just so you could interrogate me-” before your sentence could become another uphill screaming match you shake your head in a way that has Minho's knuckles whitening across the inactive steering wheel. His patience was dwindling dismally and he had the vaguest suspicion that you know this.
In fact, you might have always known this: Which buttons to push to get which reaction.
He's noticed it for a while since the peroration of your ‘friendship’. Something that blossomed into a friendship when he so very clearly tried to make it everything but.
“I'm gonna take an Uber home,” you say in a tone he can only describe as bratty.
“I swear to fucking God.” he says, manic eyes crinkling at the sides in a smile of disablief, his tongue jutting against the inside of his cheek.
Minho's not sure what he wants to do but he's damn sure you're not going to like it. “If you set foot out of this car-” He pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index. Quietly muttering Korean expletives while you sit meekly, taking your scolding. “If you set foot out this car-”
“You're not my father, Minho,” he flinches. “I'm getting my uber-”
“Try it, see what happens.”
“Minho, goodnight.”
The last thing you expect to feel as your hand touches the car handle, is Minho’s larger hand covering your wrist in a calloused grip. His hand is firm, almost concrete and before you're able to process this, he's already dragging your face towards him.
“W-What the f-fuck, Minho, let me go!” the words come out mangled and squashed because Minho has his hands squishing your cheeks in an equally iron grip. Enough to have your teeth pushing against the inside of your cheeks. Enough to have tears stinging your eyes.
“Why the fuck do you never listen?” He whispers, almost to himself. As if he's completely forgotten about the girl, leaning over the centre console because he's squishing her cheeks for dear life. You anticipate the bruises. You can almost feel them coming on.
“It's like you purposely want to piss me off-”
Despite the aircon pouring warm hair to combat the Korean chill you feel very much icy all over. It's as if the chill has seeped into your very bones and it's not long until you're completely wracked in a series of violent shivers. You have never experienced anything like this.
Minho watches in apparent awe at the way your pupils, dark as they, dilate into even darker slits. His hand shifts silently from your cheeks, to your jaw, and lower until his hand is wrapping around your neck.
“Are you wearing panties right now?”
The question hurtles through your foggy brain like a runaway train until you're forced to bore your eyes into his, “What?”
“Which pair are you wearing right now?” He asks, despite the hand already drifting from your neck, all the way down your body. He swipes his hand against your slightly damp skin, prying your thighs apart with his hand as if it were nothing. “I wanna see which you were planning to have on for him,” he knew he wouldn't like, whatever the outcome may be, but he's only just begun this game and he's not ready to stop.
“Minho.” Your hand shoots out to cradle his bicep, which proves to be a deeply harrowing mistake for someone as inexperienced as you are because his arms are so firm, so taut. You instinctively find your thighs opening just a fraction wider, even as you say, “I don't think we should do this.” You begin oh so slowly. Hoping to convey with your eyes, that which you refused to say with your lips. “I want you to stop.” Minho is absolutely breathless at the sight of the stars sparkling in your dazed eyes.
He knows exactly what you want and he's damn well going to give it to you. An escape.
“I've never known a bigger slut than you, you know that?” So casual. So forward. His words nearly have you whimpering into the quiet air.
“I can see how badly you want this,” Never ever letting his gaze stray from your helpless expression, Minho pushes his hand further into the apex of your thighs and you wait. You wait with bated breath for the euphoria to trickle in by the cold tips of his fingers touching the lace of your underwear. “You want it so bad, don't you?”
“I-I- don't,” you force the words out with your hands unknowingly wrapping themselves around Minho's forearm. “This whole time, you knew,” he laughs dryly as he lets the pad of his fingers finally reach your clothed cunt. Your legs are trembling. “You fucking knew I wanted you and yet you still went on your little date anyways,”
That has you momentarily slipping out of your subspace, but before he lets that happen, he's rubbing slow circles against your cunt, with his right hand, a hand closest to the console, easier to reach the most intimate parts of you.
“didn't know, Minho,” the whimpers leaving your mouth are soft, so intimate, like the colour pink personified and it has Minho squeezing his eyes shut for all of a few tense seconds.
When his eyes flutter open again, the old Minho is nowhere to be found. Gone is the overly flirty best friend. Gone is the unnecessary jokester. Gone is the dry humour. The only thing in its place is a stone whisper of a smirk as he says, “Ride my hand.”
“W-What-”
“You don't talk,” he says, before sliding your panties to the side, “Useless little girls don't get to talk.” He says, racking a moan from straight out your throat as his hand presses against your drenched heat. “Useless little girls don't even get to speak.”
“Minho-”
“All you think about is getting to cum, right?” There's so much of a condescending nature in its tone, it almost has you instinctively tightening your grip on the forearm between your legs and pushing your heat against his fingers. The sight of you so worked up by his bad words have Minho cursing under his breath.
You're watching him as if he invented the stars, as if to say ‘What else’, and it drives him to complete madness.
“F-Fuck,”
“She knows how to say bad words,” he cackles as you squish your soaked cunt against his calloused palm. His knuckles are pressed firmly into the seat and his wrist is giving out but his horny brain fog is far too powerful.
“That's it, Petal,” he says, watching almost as if slipping into his own trance, “fuck my hand, I wanna see how bad you want it-”
“P-Please-” You whisper, “I need your cock-”
“You don’t get to make demands when you're being punished,” he mumbles, before leaning his head back against his seat, watching you desperately try to bring yourself to orgasm by rutting your hips against his hand. “Unless, you don't need my help and you'd rather just make yourself cum-”
“NO!” you keep a firm grip on his forearm, bottom lip quivering as you stare at him with wide eyes. “I'm s-so close, please.”
Minho can't help it. The very act of you asking him for something as sacred as an orgasm… It has him trying to adjust the bulge forming in his sweatpants.
“You're close, yeah?” He asks, now entering his own pleasure. He slips his left hand into his boxers while he watches you ride his hand.
“You’re close from humping that wet pussy against my hand?”
“Oh god, yes,”
“You’re such a good fucking girl you know that?” His breathing is heavy now because he's jerking himself off to the same pace as your cunt rubbing itself against his hand.
“You're such a good whore,” he whispers.
“Call me that again- p-please I’m gonna cum!”
“I've always wanted to treat you like the whore I know you are,” he whispers, watching as your eyes slip to the back of your skull, “I hated watching you go on those dates.”
“M-Minho-”
“Kill them,” he whispers silently, “I’ve fucking wanted to kill every single one of them.” he squeezes his cock, feeling his own ripples of pleasure shoot down your spine.
“Y-Yours,” you whisper, “I'm yours-”
“F-Fuck baby-” Sensing Minho slipping into his own prgasm, you grind your cunt harder against his hand. It doesn't take much for you to make a complete mess all over his seats. You're both wracked with a wave of shivers and Minho tries to keep his eyes open as he milks his cock for all it's got. He wants to watch your hips stutter. He wants to see how you look when you cum and he wants to commit it to memory.
He decides it's the most addictive thing he's ever seen.
“No fucking way you made me cum all over myself like some fuckcing teenager,” he grumbles, staring down at the mess he's made all over his shirt.
You're still a panting shivering mess and you yelp when Minho squeezes your sensitive, overstimulated clit.
“Hey,” he says, gaining your attention immediately, “No more dates yeah?”
You do nothing but nod.
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sebasluv · 1 year
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how i imagine sebastian and his emotional support hufflepuff:
(also why is he doing the rock’s eyebrows 😭)
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hufflepuff stands for fluff, fight me (jkjk)
it is no surprise that you, a hufflepuff, got adopted by a young slytherin boy
every slytherin needs an emotional support hufflepuff, am i right?
it was a stormy night for students in hogwarts, and sebastian wasn’t having the best time, to be honest
walking around the castle before curfew is just the right thing to calm his mind…unless, he was met with a new problem
“why can’t this- work-“
“what are you doing?” sebastian appeared out of nowhere from the dark. glancing over your shoulder, he met with your enemy.
“erm- just trying to get a look of the stars tonight, astronomy class is trying to kill me,” you huffed as your telescope was placed on the table.
“you know that the storm isn’t going to make it better, right?” he shifted his weight onto one feet, resting his shoulder against the wall.
“i know, i just- it’s due tomorrow,” you sighed.
“let me help you, i know a spot,” he shuffled onto his feet.
“c’mon, m’ not gonna kill you, i am not that type of slytherin.”
“as if…led the way, please”
to say that sebastian adopted you from then on isn’t quite much of a lie
ominis noticed your presence from that day, he can feel that sebastian is bringing you around more often.
he wasn’t the biggest fan of strangers but you are someone special for his best friend, he knows that.
wandering around he castle has never been so entertaining before you met these two
of course, you are like the “mother” to the group
y/n: sebastian, no
sebastian: sebastian, yes
he loves loves loves love taking you out for some butterbeer
“you’ve got a foam on your lips,” he chuckled as he almost choked on his butterbeer.
“hey- that’s the secret to enjoying a butterbeer,” you huffed.
“fine, fine, just let me-“ he reached a hand out to wipe a foam off your lips.
“…thanks”
“a single mom who works two job-“ jk 💀
caring for them is the best thing in your life but also an tiring thing to do
feeding them, packing their bags, and definitely making sure sebastian have enough sleep.
“please, sebastian, when was the last time you’ve gotten enough sleep?”
“i dunno, like last five years?”
“c’mon,” you held out your hand as you dragged towards a discreet place in the library. setting him down, you patted your boy on a couch with all of the pillows you could find around there. “sleep tight, you need it,” you smiled.
“it’s just six o’clock,” he yawned.
“yes, it is, I’ll just be reading right there, a nap won’t hurt anything,” you ruffled his hair up as his eyelid fluttered.
of course, you can’t get in their common room. unless…
yes, sebastian broke you in (and yes, everybody knows you are the certified hufflepuff)
“are you sure this is a- good idea?”
“of course, it is always a good idea if you have me,” he chuckled as he lead your way down the slytherin dungeon. “aspiration…”
the empty brick wall suddenly shook and a slythering sensation turned into a shiny silver serpent. climbing up the wall, it reveals a hidden dark door, opening at your gaze.
“c’mon, go on,” he held your hands and dragged you in.
always caring for them, checked. even if it means one of those late nights, working on an assignment.
“you’ve got your notes and parchments?” you looked at them.
“yep” “yeah”
“and your inks?”
“…”
“c’mon, stop forgetting them, please,” you moved skillfully around the mess to put their inks in their bags.
“thanks, y/n”
of course, they are there when you needed them as well.
if you need a help jinxing someone, you know who to call
no one, i repeat, NO ONE. will treat you the wrong way (ahem, especially sebastian)
“her name is Persephoney,” a jacked headed slytherin stuck his tongue out at you and poppy.
“shut it, or you will regret it, perhaps you don’t mind if I just pulled your hair like…that?” you snickered back.
“what could a hufflepuff like you do? run along and tell the professor?”
“she could and do something much worse, be greatful for that,” sebastian backed you up, reaching a hand to rest on your shoulder. “now, back up.”
“ah, if it isn’t the charming slytherin, got into one of those hufflepuff’s jinx? how disgraceful,” he chuckled.
“at least she knows that a beast worth much more than an empty minded person, back up.”
“fine…let’s go,” without a second look, the slytherin was out of sight.
“you alright? poppy?”
“thanks”
“thank you, sebastian, he better know that us, hufflepuff, can do something far worst. we just have the decency to hold it back,” poppy giggled.
“yep, i know you lots can do unimaginable damages”
and you know i like to end it with a heartwarming great hall imagines
the great hall is buzzing with many students and delicious foods. but sebastian’s eyes will always find their ways wandering around the black and yellow table.
but finding you in one of them, comes as easy to him as breathing a fresh air into his system.
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derpy-dogs-n-cats · 4 months
Text
Christmas Wish.
Main Masterlist
Obey Me Masterlist
Simeon x Fem! Reader/MC.
Warnings: Sexual themes, smut, dry humping, clothed grinding, teasing, orgasm denial, cumming in pants.
Summary: After pining for each other for so long, Simeon's Santa outfit on Christmas sets in motion something to finally happen.
W/C: 1.8k+
A/N: Tried to get this done DURING Christmas, but here it is.
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Loud voices fill the dining room of the house of lamentation with pairs of footsteps being heard back and forth, some slow, others as loud as the banter in the room with the steps being heard rushing into the kitchen in attempt to prevent the need for damage control. “Solomon no! I can handle decorating the desserts!” You hear Luke’s voice fade into the kitchen followed by a muffled chuckle and small protests of how Solomon doesn’t mind ‘helping’.
“I’m hungry…” Beel whines as Belphie yawns. “Don’t worry Beel, Simeon’s almost here.” You comfort him. All seven brothers and everybody from purgatory hall were already at the house of lamentation, except for Simeon who’d gone to pick up Diavolo and Barbatos for christmas dinner, having insisted on accompanying over. “No one’s touching any food until Diavolo and Barbatos show up.” Lucifer informs to which Beel whines again.
“But what about Luke?” He complains with a frown which causes Lucifer to give him a stern ‘you know what I mean’ look. “Hello.” A familiar voice says that has you and the brothers looking over to see Simeon walking in the dining room with Diavolo and Barbatos beside him. Everyone greets each other as they approach one another for a warmer welcome in a hug or small talk to fill the gap of dinner getting finished but none of it is registered in your head, to entranced in Simeon.
He’d always looked breathtaking in his usual attire- any attire, but tonight was even more so than usual, dressed in a beautiful white suit with baby blue patterns topped with small golden colored designs pairing with the golden ornaments adorning the wool at the end of his sleeves and edges of his snow white hooded cloak matching with a Santa hat of the same design. “Sorry we’re so late.” His gentle voice apologizes before he calls your name in a questioning tone, opening his arms for you with a smile after a small pause.
You finally react and walk over to him and wrap your arms around his torso with his falling to your upper back and holding you close to him, embracing you in his warmth and letting you feel the soft fabric of his clothes. “How do I look?” He asks when he finally pulls away, still somewhat holding you in his arms by keeping his hands on your arms. You open your mouth to answer him only for nothing to come out, still at loss of words at the sight before you, though there’s someone who was never at loss for words.
“Oh Simeon!” Asmodeus practically moans and steps in front of you, breaking Simeon’s hold on you. “Well aren’t you a cute little Santa, darling. Tell me, am I on your naughty list tonight? Do you think you should punish me? Or have I been good this year? Do I deserve some reward?” Asmo tries to seduce him, his arms placing themselves around his neck. “Um…” Simeon looks away without knowing how to answer. “Something tells me Santa has you on a list all by your self.” You resist the urge to cross your arms at him.
“No need to be jealous dear,” He smiles at you. “You can help Santa give me my reward for being such a good boy this year.” His voice trails off to the same seductive tone while he looks back to Simeon. “Maybe not.” Simeon pulls Asmo’s arms off of him while looking away with an almost annoyed expression. “Simeon!” Luke yells and rushes over to hug him despite having been apart for only a few hours.
“You were so late I thought these demons had done away with you.” He exaggerates. “I’m alright Luke.” Simeon smiles as plates lightly clink in the background at the table being set. “What do you say if while Barbatos serves dinner, you tell Santa what you want?” He sits on the closest chair. “To make up for being late.” He adds and pats on his lap. “B- Wh- what? I’m not a child anymore! I know how Santa really works!” He points an accusatory finger at Diavolo and the brothers starting to take their own seats as well.
“Come on, just tell me what you want.” Simeon insists with Luke staying put, and despite him being older than you, seeing a child be so against asking Santa for a christmas present felt saddening, even if it’s a job that’s actually taken upon demons. “Well I want to ask Santa for a christmas present.” You state as you sit on Simeon’s lap, missing the way his eyes widen. “Stop treating me like child!” Luke insists, obvious to how Simeon’s eyes nearly pop from their sockets at how wide they are.
“It’s okay, I didn’t know about Santa until I was your age.” You assure him. “I’m over a millennium years old.” He says in a deadpan expression. “But you’re also sort of 10.” You say. “Hmph” He squints his eyes at you and leaves to take his own seat. “So… what does the pretty girl want from Santa?” Simeon nervously runs a hand through his hair with warm cheeks. “The… what?” You quietly turn around to face him, slightly moving in his lap which has him clearing his throat.
“The… pretty girl said she wanted to ask Santa for a present?” He repeats with a bashful smile. “Well… you see, I might actually need to think about it for a bit.” You subconsciously press yourself further into his lap, and though the action goes unnoticed by you, it doesn’t go unnoticed by Simeon who nearly chokes on thin air, swallowing thickly and reluctantly placing his left hand on your waist while the other one goes for the side of the chair, gripping it tightly.
“Maybe sit on Santa’s lap until you know what you want?” He suggests, struggling to steady his left hand enough to gently pull you closer to him, slightly spreading open his legs enough to slowly lodge you in between them. He’d never felt something like this and never really felt actual interest in these type of acts before, until he met you, and now that he finally has you so close to him, to where an unknown warmth was starting to blossom, he wasn’t going to let you go.
“Dinner is served.” Barbatos’s voice interrupts, both of you lightly jumping in your seats and staring straight ahead wide eyed at being caught red handed, expecting a scolding. But when you look over at him, he’s instead giving you a knowing look with a smirk on his face before leaving to his own seat beside Diavolo. You both stay sat in place quietly with both of you looking around nervously, seeing everyone else immersed in conversations along with small spats starting to form distracting from you and Simeon.
You look back to Barbatos again to see him silently eating his food with his eyes glued to the wall ahead of him and simply tuning out, but despite him minding his own business, it felt odd knowing that he knows what was happening. A small whisper of your name comes from behind you and you take in the noticeable difference with your seat form just a few seconds ago. “Please.” Simeon whispers again, his legs overly tense under you with his left hand gripping at your waist tightly, erection pressing into your ass.
You give a last quick glance around the table and look at him over your shoulder, squeezing the sides of his thighs nervously and finally give in. You move your hands to his knees and spread his legs apart just a bit further, moving to wedge yourself deeper in between them, unaware of the show you give him of swaying your hips side to side against his groin followed by you arching your back and leaning forward just slightly, enough to press your clothed cunt onto his hardness.
You open your legs as well to better welcome him against you and proceed to slowly grind back and forth on him, gently moving along the tent of his pants but pressing deep into his hardness. With his hands pulling your back and forth into him, you feel a wetness starting to seep from within you and soak your underwear, wondering if he would be able to feel you through the material of his pants keeping him away from you as your own do the same.
You give a small glance over your shoulder and see him struggling to keep his eyes from fluttering shut with his jaw visibly clenched tight, trying to not draw any attention with his length growing harder by the second starting to feel painful. His grip on your waist gradually tightens while he grinds you harder onto him, starting to hump back into you with his hips lifting in tune with your own, making sure to keep the movements slow so that no one notices.
By the time his hold on you starts to get painful, you manage to hear a small muffled noise from him with a small twitch from his length warning you of his impending orgasm with his teeth clenched tightly. Your own hands grasp harder on his thighs as well, biting back a plead that desperately wanted to escape you, wanting to bend over further over the table to grind your clit onto him rather than your clothed entrance drenched in your wetness, begging to reach it’s own release and clenching on nothing.
Having enough of what felt like teasing, you switch from your back and forth motions and move your hips side to side against him, hoping to finish him off to stop what almost feels like torture for your empty cunt. “Ngh.” A noise finally escapes him with his hips raising from the chair and holding you as tight against him as possible, stilling against you with his nails digging into your sides with his cock twitching beneath you, emptying his balls with you pressed onto him.
His hold on your waist slowly loosens until it goes limp, his hips settling back down slowly as well, cock softening with a quiet sigh leaving past his lips and eyes finally falling shut. You swallow a small whimper when you feel his release start to soak through your pants and bite your lip in frustration and despite having wanted something to happen between you after so long, you find yourself wishing for it to have happened in a better location.
Maybe next time you’ll be able to feel him inside you, or at least be able to play with your clit, maybe he’ll be the one to play with yours instead and you’ll actually be able to cum with him, but for now, you’re forced to take what you can get and enjoy simply having his cum soak through his pants and onto yours, leaving a dark patch on both your clothes and hoping to feel his warm cum reach your drenched pussy.
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crystalflygeo · 1 year
Text
Sinful voice pt.2 ft “Morax”/Prof!Zhongli + fem!reader (modern AU)
cw/tags: Voice kink, daddy kink, dirty talk, female masturbation, oral and fingering implied but like it's just fantasizing?? petnames (sweetheart, babygirl, dear) Reader is DOWN BAD LMAO and suffers second hand embarrasment.
notes: EVERYBODY SAY THANK YOU @localplaguenurse!!They gave me a F A N T A S T I C idea that just inspired me to continue this wip and ended up not even being featured here yet but HEY... future p3!! //winkwink. That said I did NOT expect how much this would blow up and how ppl loved it and wanted more, y'all gonna make me giddy and/or cry pls (consider checking some of my other stuff too mayhaps? <3) Anyway I REALLY hope this delivers bc boi am I afraid of not meeting expectations vcgvhjbnjnmklal
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Weeks had passed since your ‘big discovery’ and you still weren’t quite sure what to do with this information.
At first you chalked it up to just your imagination because… there was no way, right? Your new professor could just have a… similar voice… yeah… that was it.
Except the more you listened to his long-winded explanations the more you picked up certain words and intonations here and there and you knew you were just fooling yourself.
A lot had happened in these last few weeks, from organizing your new living space, to meeting your roommates, to grocery shopping, classes, and you had even considered the idea of maybe getting a part time job somewhere close by. There were plenty of small shops and places around the college campus neighborhood that not only offered valuable services to poor college students but also the opportunity to make a bit of money to help them out.
It had all been rather exhausting and stressing, exams, essays and projects were already starting too…
Lying back in bed you sigh and roll over, feeling the familiar faint throb of desire pooling between your legs, one you’d never really managed to sate with a person so much as with fantasies. But tonight, as you lay awake in bed aching for your usual touch, you feel conflicted.
Ever since that very first day you just couldn’t bring yourself to open up Morax’s website again. Hell, a new month had rolled over and you’d dutifully paid the subscription along with your other usual bills.
Part of you was itching for it, curious, frustrated.
And very very horny.
Thing is, your fantasies had often featured a faceless man, strong, imposing and dominating, taking you like a blushing maiden and making you beg for the pleasure he’d give, allowing him to do anything he wanted with your heated body. Now that man had a face… your history professor Mr. Zhongli.
You used to get off to imaginings of Morax tying you up and having his way with you, teasing you, fucking you into the mattress and making you cum over and over. Now it was Mr. Zhongli. Polite and courteous Mr. Zhongli with his refined gestures and well-mannered demeanor.
You wanted to cum, to reach that high and come undone and let out all the pent-up stress and frustration until you melted into a puddle and didn’t have to think about classes or money or life anymore, but the second your fingers began to rub at your clit, Mr. Zhongli’s voice would hit you with that even tone he used when scolding someone for gossiping during his lecture.
“Disgraceful behavior…”
A hot flash of shame burned at your face but for whatever reason it just turned you on more. You wanted to get fucked so bad you felt like you were going insane. You wanted that man to pin you up against a wall and thrust inside you until you turned into an incoherent moaning mess. You wanted to get bent over at his desk and filled up with cum until you were left gaping and oozing and told what a good girl you are. You wanted to get fucked on your hands and knees squirming and crying from overstimulation.
Lying in bed, you squeezed a pillow against your face and screamed.
You wanted to fuck your handsome history professor Mr. Zhongli.
-------------------------------------
It’s barely first period and you couldn’t concentrate.
You were sleepy, hungry and overall, in a bad mood. Standing in line at the cafeteria for a much-needed morning coffee and some snack you yawn and browse around your phone. Math. Gods you hated math.
At least you didn’t have history today. That was a whole other can of worms.
You figured you’d eventually have to get over it but it was just… so bizarre. Mr. Zhongli was quite the popular teacher, you’d learned. Extremely knowledgeable in various topics, a strict but kind and just teacher and good looking on top of all.
No wonder the upperclassmen flocked around him, probably half the campus lowkey had a crush on him, male and female students alike. It was genuinely a miracle he was not married or even had a significant other apparently.
And he was also Morax. Sensual dominating Morax who would just not leave your head-
“Good morning, how may I help you?” The cashier called out cheerfully and you pulled out of your thoughts.
“Morn-”
“Good morning.”
You gasp so sharply you almost launch into a coughing fit; your eyes widen and whole body tenses and oh shit-
Somehow you manage to trip and fall in the clumsiest, stupidest way possible.
“Woah-!”
“Miss?!”
Except you don’t actually fall, but someone manages to hold you, a hand grabbing your arm and the other pressed against your back steadying you as your poor brain goes into overdrive.
That voice!
It’s him!
Too close!
What is he doing here?!
Way too close!!
The seconds it takes for you to react feel like ages as you stare up at Mr. Zhongli like a deer caught in the headlights.
His hands are warm…
His cologne smells soooo good.
His eyes are gorgeous!
He’s so hot!!
“Are you alright Miss l/n?”
“I’M FINE! I-I’m fine!” You yelp, way louder than intended (or normal) and quickly scoot back to put some distance between yourself and the handsome professor. He picks up his dropped bag and dusts it a little, as well as his clothes, still pristine as ever. “I… think I got a little dizzy s-sorry I haven’t eaten yet and… yeah…” You chuckle nervously.
You see him frown slightly. “Going without food for long periods of time can be quite dangerous.” He states, obviously concerned. “Maybe you should head to the infirmary see Dr Baizhu, you look quite pale and the dizziness could be a symptom of low blood pressure. Do you have anything sugary to eat or drink?”
“I w-was about to buy something…”
“It might be best for you to sit down for the moment.” He nods, resolute. “Allow me.”
…And that’s how you end up sitting at one of the nearby small tables with a little glazed donut and a bottle of water, courtesy of your dear history professor.
You stare at the little treat in your hands, half eaten already as he insisted, at least your hands stopped shaking and some color returned to your face. Mr. Zhongli seemed content enough, sitting across from you.
“T-Thank you.” You mumble, refusing to meet his gaze. “How much was it? I’ll pay you back I have som-”
He sees you rummaging through you bag and raises a hand. “None of that, you needed it. I’m glad to see you’re looking a little better, please take care of yourself, health is very important.”
“Um, ok.”
Then he smiles, and it’s gentle, soft. “You’re Miss l/n, right? One of the new students from my history class?”
Huh?   
“You didn’t do very well on the essay assignment…”
Ack. You sigh and take another bite of the small donut. “History is just… not my strong suit. Too many dates and names to remember.”
He chuckles and oh God who gave him the right to make that sound? Your skin tingles.
“Fair enough. I know my classes can be a little daunting, I’m very particular about certain topics and tend to ramble sometimes. But I can tell you really put effort into classes and pay attention to my lectures.” He looks pensive for a moment. “Let me propose something. I usually impart some private tutoring sessions to students on more advanced levels, but I could make an exception for you. If you have time available it could help lift your grades.”
You stare up at him in surprise, grateful to not have a mouthful of donut or you would have probably choked again like an idiot. Did you hear that right? A private tutoring session after hours at his office?!
Now that sounded like a title for one of Morax’s audios: Hot professor bangs his stu-NOPE.    
“I-I’ll think about it! Sure.”
He nods and gets up, sparing a glance at his watch. “I have to leave now, please do consider it. And do try to eat at more regular intervals and take better care of yourself, you look quite tired.”
A polite way of saying you had marked eyebags, yep.
“I’ll try.” You mumble. Suddenly a little sad to see him go. “Professor… thank you.”
There’s that smile again, you could melt. “You’re welcome, my dear.”
----------------------------------
And yet that night, you’re once again rolling in bed unable to sleep.
My dear.
You couldn’t stop thinking on the whole incident, you’d certainly made a fool of yourself but the memory of his strong arms holding you, touch firm but gentle. The scent of his cologne that you wish had clung more on your clothes.
You really were down bad, this is ridiculous…
You bite your lip.
You shouldn’t. You shouldn’t.
Oh but you will, just one wouldn’t hurt.
Quite the opposite actually…
Unable to contain yourself (or your horniness) you take no time to pop in your earbuds and start scrolling. Hmm… there had been a couple new additions in these last weeks.
You can’t help but wonder why he does these. When. How. You never really considered or thought on it before, Morax has quite a lot of patrons (not a surprise) and thought you know nothing about sound and video recording or editing technically he’s making money just by using that honeyed velvet voice of his. That had to bring in some cash, right?
But then again, if you knew anything about these types of subscriptions it was that they required constancy and that meant hard work and dedication. Did he enjoy these? He really puts in the effort given the amazing quality…
You can’t help but picture your handsome professor unwinding a little after a long day, casual clothes, a cup of that tea he loves and setting up to record those dirty words and sinful moans.
Did he sometimes get worked up about these too? Did he also touch himself during or after recording a particular scenario? Sitting back slightly sprawled on the chair, brow slightly furrowed, stroking his co-   
Aaahhhh you needed to stop thinking on him.
Yeah right.
“Daddy eats you out and prepares you for his big cock.”
Well, this looks promising.   
The audio starts like many others, with some dialogue from him and setting the scene and oh… you had kind of missed the playful teasing tilt of Morax’s voice. You can’t help but chuckle lightly, this scene is so domestic. He calls you “sweetheart”, “babygirl” and there are the kissy noises.
You wish you could kiss him…
“Hmmm… daddy’s gonna get you nice and ready. Spread your legs for me.” Oh, you certainly do. “Daddy’s gonna get down here between them.”
You rub at your tights slowly, sensual, remembering his larger hands.
“Oh your little pussy is already so wet and swollen.” Morax coos, voice soft and airy. “You think it’s already ready I know.” He chuckles. “But you know daddy’s cock is big, yeah, your little pussy’s gonna need to stretch a little bit hm?” A kiss.
You whine.
“Shhh daddy’s gonna make you feel so good sweetheart.”
Lewd wet noises invade your ears and you waste no time starting to stroke yourself, slow and tender. He groans and sighs and you whimper, hips jolting from the bed.
Gods how was he so…
“Yeah… nice and gentle hmm, we’re gonna have so much fun.”
His words were a complete 180 from the long lectures about politics and wars, and yet, his voice…
“D-Daddy…” You sigh. “Please!”
“Oh I love how sensitive your little clit is… you like that babygirl?”
You rub and stroke at the little bundle of nerves and see stars already.
You were so pent up, so needy. Your orgasm was already building too quickly, mewling and whining at his words, his noises, trying to match the pace and follow his instructions.
“That’s a good girl.”
“F-Fuck-”
Your eyebrows furrow, your body trembles and you bit your lip to contain your noises. Morax warns you when he adds a finger, and after a few seconds another, chuckling low at how you clench, praising you, coaxing out your pleasure.
You can only picture him at the end of the bed, licking and sucking obscenely at your juices, pumping those slender fingers in and out, in and out…
That tantalizing voice teasing you, your fingers knotting that dark brown hair tipped amber, golden eyes staring up at you half-lidded but feral and fascinated. Focusing on you. Only you.
“A-Ah! Mhmm…”
“Now I want you to cum babygirl come on, in five… four…”
You stroke and pump faster, frantic, lost in that rapidly approaching high.
“Three… two…”   
You cry out, a spark cursing through your veins.
“One… hmmm that’s it my dear.”
“Z-Zhongli…!”
He ushers you out of your release with soft words before saying something else, but your mind is floating and hazy. Your take off the earbuds and place them away catching your breath for a moment, arm draped over your face, the audio still has a long way to go but you’re drowsy and sleepy so you decide to call it a night.
It is only a little later, once you’re done with a quick cleaning and putting everything away, curled up under the covers and dozing off that you realize…
Shit.
You’d called not for Morax but Zhongli.
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thatrandomwriter · 11 months
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Be Right Back
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Ghostface Stu Macher x Reader
Warnings: Threat of violence, underage drinking, kissing
Summary: Ghostface follows reader into the basement at Stu’s house party, but reader has an idea about who might be behind the mask
“I don’t know what you did, Sidney, but on behalf of the entire student body we all say thank you!” Stu had swooped in to walk with Sidney, Tatum and I, presenting us with flowers. He winked at me, and I rolled my eyes. He clutched his chest as if this was the most heartless action I could’ve taken. I laughed.
“Drop it, Stu,” Tatum said as Sidney looked down at the ground, but Stu was not put off.
He slid between me and Sidney, slinging an arm around each of our shoulders, “Ya know I say, impromptu party tonight, my house, celebrate this little siesta. What do you say?” I could smell his fresh cologne, feel his warmth next to me.
“Are you serious?” Sidney asked, unconvinced.
“Sounds like fun - might be good to take your mind off things?” I said.
“That’s exactly right,” Stu piggybacked off my reasoning, flashing me a grin. I felt my face heat up slightly, “If Tatum doesn’t invite the entire world, we’ll be fine. Intimate gathering, intimate friends,”
“What do you say, Sid? I mean, pathos could have it’s perks,” If Tatum was on board too, there was no way Sidney was saying no.
“You’ll be totally protected. Yo, I am so buff. I got you covered, girl,” Stu made a show of removing his arms from around us to flex them exaggeratedly.
“With Stu as your bodyguard, no-one is getting anywhere near you,” I said, and Sidney smiled.
“Come on, Sid. For me? It could be fun,” Tatum appealed.
“Okay, whatever,” Sidney caved in.
“Yeah? Cool, you guys bring food, alright?” Stu said, leaving to walk in another direction. I turned to wave goodbye, catching him doing a triumphant air guitar.
“Save that energy for the party,” I called back to him.
“I’ll be at the top of my game, don’t you worry,”
*
I was a few hours and a few drinks into the party. Stu had disappeared a little while ago, and embarrassingly, I was disappointed that he wasn’t around to hang out with anymore. Instead, I was sandwiched between Sidney and Tatum, sunk deep into the squashy sofa, someone’s legs across mine.
“I’m getting some more drinks - anyone want anything?” I asked, feeling more claustrophobic than thirsty. I was met with a general consensus that just about everybody needed another beer “I’ll grab whatever I can carry,”
Tatum removed her arm from my shoulders, and I struggled up from the sofa.
“Thank you!” Tatum grinned up at me.
“Be right back,”
I was still getting used to the size of Stu’s house, managing to open two wrong doors before I came across the basement - dark and steep stepped. I fumbled for the light switch, hand patting down the wall, until finally I felt it and flipped it on, lights flickering into being.
The fridge was impressively stocked - full of as much beer as could be crammed into it, bottles and cans stacked haphazardly, threatening to fall to the floor if I made one wrong move. I wiggled a few free, grabbing bottles by the necks in an attempt to fit more in my hands. It would be a miracle if I made it back to the party without dropping any of them, but one trip down into the spooky basement was enough for me, especially with a killer around; I would not be making a second trip if anyone ended up without a drink.
I reversed with the beers, shutting the fridge with my foot and nearly toppling over, stumbling backwards until I hit a wall. No, not a wall - a person, soft and warm.
“Sorry, guess I’m more tipsy than I thought,” I laughed, turning to see who I had fallen into. A white mask, mouth open in an exaggerated scream stared down at me. A ghostface mask. “Shit, you scared me,” Was this just a tone-deaf joke? Perhaps someone had meant to catch Sidney down here to really freak her out. Or maybe this was the real deal - I fought the urge to laugh. This could not be how I died, fetching beer at a trashy highschool party.
“I’m just gonna-“ I moved to walk around him and back up to the party, but he side-stepped, making me walk into him again. Something about him seemed familiar - his height, the way he stood, his smell … I realised then exactly who it was. I had smelled Stu’s cologne when he had put his arm around me earlier, and I could smell it again, now.
“Stu?” I let out my laugh, relieved. He had a tendency to take jokes too far, this was just an instance of his somewhat unsympathetic sense of humour.
Stu shook his head, mask turning from side to side.
“Come on, I know it’s you. Let’s go have a drink,”
Metal gleamed as Stu revealed a knife from inside one of his long sleeves.
“That’s not funny, Stu,” Was this part of his joke? Would he really take it this far, or was I somehow mistaken about the identity of whoever it was behind the mask?
The person tilted their head to one side, as if he were analysing what I was saying. For a moment, we were at a silent impasse. Then, Ghostface lunged for me with the knife. Beer slid from my arms, shattering on the basement floor, and I made no effort to hold onto it as I ducked. I shoved at the body in front of me to put some distance between us. I was trapped between him and the shut garage door - all I could do was try to evade his attacks. Part of me was still convinced that it was Stu, another knew that surely he was not capable of murder. He stabbed at me again, and this time I gripped onto his arm, but the knife was aimed for my chest. I was weaker than he was, and despite all of my efforts, the knife was still closing in on me. I knew in that moment that I was not going to win this fight, so instead, I turned my attention to the mask. I managed to push his arm to the side, stepping away from it so that he stumbled forward. Before he could recover, I grabbed onto the mask, yanking it away from his head.
“Stu?” The reveal floored me. I had been expecting this, I had known it was him, but still I was shocked. Stu regained his footing, taking advantage of my shock to shove me backwards and into a wall, a real one this time, knife at my throat. I was breathing heavily, from a combination of fighting him, fear, and, ridiculously, what felt like nervousness twitching in my chest at our proximity.
“How’d you know it was me, huh?” He pushed the knife further into my skin for a second, punctuating the question.
If it was anyone else, I probably would not have figured it out, “I just … recognised you,”
“You did? Well, I have to say, I’m very flattered - what are you, a stalker?” Stu was teasing me, laughing at me, with a knife to my neck. He stepped forward, even closer to me than before, almost touching me. I could still feel my chest rising and falling heavily.
“You’re flattered?” Part of me thought that maybe playing into this attraction could keep me alive, even just long enough for someone to notice that I had been gone too long from the party. Another part was shamefully intrigued as to where this was leading.
“Of course I am - don’t you think I’ve noticed you too?” he leaned in to whisper in my ear, “Who would’ve thought a knife was the way to get your attention?”
When he pulled back, I couldn’t help but glance down at his lips, how close they were to mine. As soon as my eyes were back on his, I knew that he had noticed. My face grew hot, but something shifted in his expression, becoming less playful and more serious as he surged forwards to kiss me. I tilted my head up towards him, my eyes shutting as his lips moved against mine, fast and hungry and full of desperation. I was pressed between him and the wall, the coldness behind me a stark contrast to the warmth in front. One of his hands found my neck, replacing the knife, thumb grazing my throat in a gentle caress meant to remind me that I was still entirely at his mercy. The feeling made me groan slightly. His teeth nipped roughly at my lower lip, hard enough to sting. I parted my lips for him, and he delighted in sliding his tongue into my mouth, leaving me somehow even more breathless than before.
His hands were on my hips, “Jump up,” Stu broke away from me only for a second, as I jumped up to wrap my legs around his waist. He used the wall to hold me up, one hand snaking back up to my neck, the other resting on my hip, fingers grazing the skin just beneath my top. He used the hand on my neck to pull my head to the side, kissing down my jaw until he reached skin soft enough to leave a hickey. Stu bit at my neck, sucking soft skin between his teeth, making me wince slightly which only encouraged him. When he was finally satisfied, he looked up at me, grinning, “You’re my masterpiece,”
The doorknob jiggled, before a knock on the door made him turn away. “You alright in there? I came to see if you needed help carrying the drinks,” Sidney’s voice sounded down into to basement.
I looked to Stu. Now would be the time for me to scream for help, “All good, I think the door locks when you shut it too hard sometimes,” I said. She would never make it through the locked door in time to save me, I told myself. But Stu was kissing my neck, nuzzling into me, and I knew the real reason.
“If you say so,” Sidney said.
“Yep, I’ll be up in a minute,” I struggled to keep my voice steady, but my reply seemed to satisfy Sidney, as there was no other sound from upstairs.
“How do you know you’ll be back?” Stu asked, finally removing himself from my neck to look into my eyes.
“I don’t, but I thought you’d want me to get rid of her,”
A smile widened across his face at my compliance, and his thumb caressed my throat once again, “Aren’t you clever?”
“Will I be back?” I asked; he was carefully evading answering his own question.
“I haven’t quite decided yet,” his hand had strayed to the knife which had been resting on top of a chest freezer, “But I’m sure you can figure out a way to make keeping you alive worth my trouble,”
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hotvintagepoll · 1 month
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Propaganda
Mae West (She Done Him Wrong, I'm No Angel)— Legendary sex symbol. Like 500 vintage iconic quotes and double entendres. "Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me? " "When I'm good, I'm very good. But when I'm bad, I'm better" / "It's not the men in your life that count, it's the life in your men" / "I feel like a million tonight. But one at a time." , "Marriage is a fine institution, but I'm not ready for an institution. " / " How tall are you without your horse? Six foot, seven inches. Never mind the six feet. Let's talk about the seven inches! " Look the pictures don't do her justice just watch a compilation and tell me that voice doesn't do it for you
Flora Robson (Fire over England, Sarabande for Dead Lovers)— It's a testament to her power that despite an extensive film career, that a single role has cemented itself firmly in my mind as one of the best. That of Elizabeth I in Five over England
This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]
Mae West:
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Her voice! Her body! She was thick as hell and SO confident.
Mae West is often called the queen of the sexual pun or innuendo, she was an early sex symbol and a comedy icon. She also has a quote saying "When I am good, I am very good. But when I am bad I am better!" which is possibly the peak of hot girl energy ever. (Including the clip here)
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for an era that didn't have much wiggle room when it came to women that studios wanted in their films, it's refreshing that she was in her late 30s when she skyrocketed to movie fame. she was also curvy and witty and raunchy, an absolute icon!
She is an absolute icon, the OG sex symbol. Every word from her mouth was an innuendo and she was proud of it. I guess one could say she slayed. She got Cary Grant his first acting role, as well. How could you NOT vote for someone who says such iconic stuff as "I do all my writing in bed; everybody knows I do my best work there" or "You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough." SHE COINED THE PHRASE "IS THAT A GUN IN YOUR POCKET OR ARE YOU JUST HAPPY TO SEE ME?" I LOVE HER!!!
“I created myself and I never put up with sloppy work”-mae west
great short compilation of mae west mae westing:
youtube
She was a SEX GODDESS at a time when that was an extremely scandalous thing to be, and she worked it! She was sardonic, sarcastic, funny...and stacked! Favorite quote (from Night After Night, 1933): Random woman: Goodness! What beautiful diamonds! Mae West: Goodness had nothin' to do with it, dearie.
i personally love this silly production number from one of her lesser known movies
She was arrested for indecency and chose to serve 10 days in prison instead of paying the fine for the publicity, and she claimed that she refused to wear the ugly prison outfits so she wore her silk lingerie the entire time. Also one of the first historybound vintage fashion icons (although vintage for her was the Victorian era)
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Flora Robson:
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bellewintersroe · 9 months
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Daniel Ricciardo x HornerDaughter! Reader - smut.
Part 11 omfg I am so excited to write this chapter! Let’s hope it doesn’t flop… You can find my masterlist for F1 here which contains the other 10 parts to this story- be warned a lot of it is heavy on the smut.
After a heavy night of partying in Belgium and some teasing on both parts, Daniel had had enough and is bold enough to make a move. Sick of their semi separation, he’s desperate to reunite, and they do, maybe not so smoothly as he would have liked but it’s the end result which counts, and Daniel wants nothing more than to have his girl back in his arms… Warning: 18+ heavy mentions of smut, oral, graphic descriptions of rough sex, choking, spanking etc. Swearing (obviously) and arguments. Daniel is as angry as Daniel Ricciardo can seemingly get. I am FERAL for this man…
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No matter who was on the top or bottom, you knew there was going to be a celebration after a Grand Prix. Whether certain people joined in or not, you were bound to find a good handful of racers making the most of their evening off.
Y/n found herself surrounded by plenty of partygoers as she joined the Red Bull team and pretty much every other team for a celebration in a buzzing club. She swore she’d steer away from alcohol, especially with everything going on with Daniel, but she couldn’t help herself. After two drinks, the rest went down way too easily.
Daniel. He was here tonight, celebrating with everybody. The AlphaTauri car might’ve been a tractor, and Daniel had faced some difficult obstacles since racing, but he was doing great considering all of those factors.
She could feel her eyes gaze over to him every now and then, and the more intoxicated she became the more she couldn’t stop, nor control herself. She wanted him, not even just in a sexual way, she just wanted to be in his vicinity, stand next to him, talk to him- act how they used to do. Her heart yearned at the thought of how close they used to be. Why couldn’t they have that back? Daniel, of course felt the same way. He just couldn’t bare to look in her direction, when he did, his jaw tightened seeing all the other men eyeing her up. He couldn’t torture himself like that, not purposefully, anyway. You see, she had come up with the dumb idea that talking to the mechanics of Red Bull would make Daniel jealous. It did- but it didn’t mean it was right to do. It was incredibly immature and toxic, but part of her wanted to see exactly what he was missing out on. She always socialised with these people, but Daniel knew it was different tonight. Her hand was resting on Jay’s shoulder as she seemed to laugh borderline non stop, apart from when she was swigging down a vodka cranberry. Daniel physically rolled his eyes, temper spurred on with the alcohol as he continued to drink a stupid amount, like he was in his 20s again. “Have you see the video of somebody of not being able to get the side jack off the car, he goes flying, has that ever happened to you?” She was entertained, half distracted as she talked to the many mechanics and engineers around. “Oh yeah, yeah! Thank god it wasn’t me!” Jay knocked her arm, swaying in an intoxicated amusement. “So- so-“ Ollie, one of the younger mechanics leaned over the table. “-Be honest, have you ever got with any of the drivers?” I snickered at his question, my eyes finding the one man I certainly had ‘got with’. Daniel was between a group of his friends at the bar, chatting away, it was as though it was his instinct to turn and look directly at her the second her eyes were on him. Her lips tugged up as she remained focused on the Australian whilst shaking her head. “No.” She glanced back to Ollie. “No, I haven’t. Some F2 guys though.” When she glanced back to Daniel his jaw was tight and he was watching her in a way she’d never seen. He looked hungry, jealous, Daniel never looked so dark, until now. He looked so attractive, beautiful, but there was something about the way he was stood and stared at her that told her he was still bothered. Of course he was, he was the one that said he loved her. Deciding to give up this small game of cat and mouse she was playing, she just continued to enjoy the conversations with everybody, choosing not to go up and dance with a group of intoxicated man. A sensation of guilt had washed over her, so when she returned from the toilets to wash her hands clean of anything mean she’d been intending on, she pulled up at the bar, glancing down to see a tanned, veiny arm pressed up to the bar next to her.
He let out a small mutter of her name, one only she could hear. Her back stiffened and she looked up to him with a daring smirk. Daniel thought he’d forgotten how to breathe for a second, until he took a hold of her wrist, gently, so she could break free if she wanted. “Can we leave?” He was pissed though, there was no room for a smirk in the dispute they were about to have.
“Now?!” Her heart fluttered at the question, she was already stepping away from the bar, “yeah.” Daniel responded bluntly as she nodded, following directly after him with the weirdest feeling in her tummy. There was a tension between them, and his grip on her wrist got unconsciously tighter when she began giggling and speaking to people mid being pulled out to a car.
“You okay?” She innocently spoke, trying to distract herself from the fact she was actually alone with him. She brushed her hair, found some gum, reapplied her lipgloss. You’d think she was going to the club, not leaving.
“Yeah, just…” he let out an inward sigh, annoyance filling his bones. “We’ll talk when we’re back.”
You see, her filter wasn’t exactly great when she was drunk, nobody’s was- but that mixed with Daniel’s already annoyance, was a bad combination. “Talk about what?” She shuffled in her seat, knees pulled up onto the seats, tucked up slightly besides her as Daniel glanced down, noticing the slight pink lace of her underwear showing through. “Put your seatbelt on.” He shook the improper thoughts away, grinding his teeth together and jittering his leg uncontrollably. Daniel hated being like this, the rage that he could usually contain was spilling out purely from the fact he’d had one too many drinks.
Worst of all, she gave him a funny stare, taken aback by the command. He was starting straight forwards, hand jiggling on his leg. She’d never seen him so wound up, ever. After a second of reacting to his comment, she sat back, plugging her seatbelt in silently. “Talk about what, Daniel?” She tried again after a moments silence. The screen between the driver and them was closed, but it still wasn’t ideal, not for him anyway.
He inhaled deeply, turning his face to stare at the space between them. One of her hands rested on the middle seat, he wanted to reach out and take it. His emotions were so twisted, he couldn’t figure where one started and the other stopped. “Just-” he cut himself off again and she was growing frustrated with the lack of answers.
“Just what? I would’ve stayed out if I knew this was the case.” He winced at the harsh tone of her words, maybe he shouldn’t have dragged her out, maybe she really didn’t feel the same as he did anymore… He inhaled this time, scratching at the back of his neck. The conversation fell flat and both of them stared out of either side of their windows, drearily thanking the driver before returning through a back door into their hotel. “What do you want to talk about?” She tried again, striding to catch up to him.
“Just this-” he pointed between them, “what was happening in there, the way you kept looking at me when you were-”
“You were the one that was looking at me!” She cut him off, the two of them continued walking into the hotel lobby. “When you were flirting with all those men, look, I don’t play childish games like that.” His tone was firm, firmer than she’d ever heard Daniel be. She didn’t like it, it was hurtful and she felt kinda bad over how upset he was. However, nor did she like his accusations…
“Flirting, I was just talking with them.” She spat out quietly whilst they waited for a lift. Daniel scoffed at her words and she could really feel her rage beginning to grow. When they got in the lift she jittered her leg, he pressed the button to his room and she in objection, pushed the buttons to hers.
“I’m not a fucking idiot, that was fuckin’ immature in there and you know it.” Daniel pointed out as he remained silent, swallowing harshly as the lift began moving upwards. Not fast enough, again, it was awkward, tense. Her breathing was fast and heavy, and she knew she was going to explode. Finally, the lift slowed to his floor. “Is that all you wanted to talk about?” She inhaled sharply. “No.” He lowered his tone, staring right back at her now. “Thanks for dragging me back for nothing.” She scoffed as Daniel gulped, stepping out the now open doors. She watched him with sadness, the same aching feeling filling her when he began leaving. It was in the split of a second that Daniel decided he couldn’t just leave her there, he smacked his hand over the door, preventing it from closing as she raised her head, her sad little face making Daniels heart ache.
“Just come speak to me, properly. Please.” He couldn’t look at her, she followed slowly back to his room, he pushed the door open for her as she awkwardly walked in first. Her eyes fell to the floor as she stole a glance at Daniel locking the door. He looked so good, yet so bothered. His brow was tense and she’d never seen him look so miserable before.
“Look, just speak to me normally, we can’t keep going on doing this.” He stepped in front of her now, forcing her to tilt her head up to look at him once more. Their eye contact made her weak, it made her want to cry. “I just… I don’t know how to act around you anymore, you really upset me and I was just- just immature to want to get back at you, I know, but at some point I was just speaking to them. I didn’t purposefully sit with those men just to annoy you.” “I know.” He sighed out, the two of them stood in the hallway practically face to face. She glanced around his room slightly, double bed, tidy, larger and nicer than her own. A couch was sprawled in front of a large window, the lights from outside glowing through and creating an orange hum to the room. There was a side lamp on, nothing else. Her head dropped again, and she swallowed in tension, hating the fact she began to warm to the fact she was here with him, alone…
“Sorry.” She swallowed as he felt something soften deep inside of him. “It’s fine.” Daniel hushed as she began fidgeting under his gaze. Recognising he could’ve been slightly intimidating, he stepped back, glancing around the large room.
“Max um…” she began causing him to turn around again as her stomach did backflips with anxiety. “Max figured out what was happening, kinda.” She winced as Daniel sighed. “I know.”
“I told him as well.” She blurted out as Daniel froze, waiting for her to continue but nothing else came out. “Told him what?”
“We weren’t doing whatever, anymore.” She awkwardly spoke as Daniel’s body slumped whilst sitting down on the bed. She took the drooping of his shoulders the wrong way, her anxieties (and alcohol) telling her that he was ashamed. Ashamed of her, of their secret little affair.
“Is it so bad, Daniel? I mean, would it be? People knowing about us? Because I don’t-” she took a deep breath, “I don’t care about people finding out, I was never ashamed of you.” His head snapped up at this now, face contorting in confusion.
“Ashamed?! You think I was ashamed?” She held her thumb up to her lips worriedly, watching him sit up much straighter now. With a gentle nod he let out a quick exhale, dropping his head.
“I was never ashamed, god y/n, it was just your dad, I-”
“Oh, Daniel why?!” She raised her voice in annoyance. “Because it would be inappropriate!”
“Why?” She blinked, stepping closer, breathing increased as did her frustration. Daniel didn’t stand, he didn’t want to look down on her, it felt cruel. “Why?!” She repeated when he didn’t reply, his mouth opened but nothing came out. Daniel asked himself that too, why was it inappropriate? They were both consenting adults, they both clearly had the very same intentions, they’d only met each other a year prior. The more Daniel pushed this ‘inappropriate’ narrative the weirder she began to feel, a sense of rejection filling her.
“Inappropriate.” She borderline laughed to herself. He felt ridiculed, caught out on his own lie. “Do you really think that?” She eyed him up and down now, his jaw tensed and he responded with a quick, “no.” Her teeth found her bottom lip, sucking it in as she began gnawing nervously. Something shifted in the air, and when she sighed out, the anger escaped her body with her breath. “Okay… what now then?” She cleared her throat.
“What now?” Daniel gulped again, glancing at her up and down. She nodded, holding eye contact with the Australian who scanned over her features. The gentle knot in her brow softened when Daniel stood up, her chin lifting as he reached out, taking hold of her face and moving in for a kiss that was bruising with want. Both their heart beat in a simultaneous rhythm, unbeknown to the two of them. Fuck, Daniel couldn’t not. He loved her, he needed her. Their lips moulded together for the first time in what felt like centuries, hands grabbing at one another as she moaned in shock, spurring Daniel on to tug her closer with a stumble. He held her upright, hands snatching at her waist closer to his. His finger tips dug into her flesh, keeping her close as he stepped further back.
“C’mere, c’mere.” He cooed, melting her on the spot as they tumbled onto the bed, knees either side of him. How they got in this position so quickly she’d never comprehend, but that didn’t matter. All she cared about was the feeling of his lips on hers, his hand smoothing down her skirt, snatching at the material, pulling her face closer into his- she enjoyed the idea he had an animalistic need for her. Their separation had been tough, god knows how either coped so well without one another, but they were sure making up for lost time now.
His hand slipped over the buttons of her cargo skirt, slipping her easily out as they momentarily broke the kiss so she could strip herself free. Daniel was opened mouth and red in the cheeks, panting as he looked her up and down. It was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen and before she went to climb back onto him, he caught her again.
“These too, baby.” He was quick to mutter, fingers snapping at the band of her thongs. She smirked back to him, tugging them down with his aid before discarding them to one side. Daniel fell to his knees in front of the bed, kissing over her stomach and lower abdomen before throwing her leg over his shoulder.
His lips and tongue worked in ways she could comprehend as he ate her out, slurping up her wetness like he hadn’t eaten his last meal. Fuck, the pleasure was dizzying, and when his hand slightly slapped against her ass she let out a louder moan, signalling her want for the rough sensation.
Daniel hummed out a chuckle against her pussy, squeezing over her cheek, rubbing the sore part before bringing his hand down once more and spanking her. Her hips jumped, deeper into his mouth as he moaned at the delightful sensation of her pussy throbbing on his tongue.
“I’m gonna cum. Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum.” She whined, head tilting back and body becoming rigid. She could barely stand straight as his arms began shaking, holding her upright as her orgasm crashed over her. “Oh my god, oh fuck.” She rolled her hips into his mouth as he swiped his tongue from her hole up to her clit, “I could do this all fucking day.” He commented lowly as she moaned in response. She was aching in the best way, pussy so sensitive as his actions didn’t slow. “Da-Daniel.” A light tap on his head slowly broke him off as he pressed one more kiss to her stomach. He swore he was hard as a fucking rock, the slight of her glistening pussy in front of her sending him wild.
“I fucking need you, baby. I need you so bad.” He then admitted, practically lifting her up and dropping her back onto the bed. She let out a whimper in protest when he began pulling his cock out. He was still fully clothed, eager to fill her up. “I wanna suck you off first.” She bluntly admitted as he wiped the back of his mouth, wet from before. Daniel moved down, kissing her deeply once again, her lips so soft and warm as he curled his fingers through her wetness.
The breath that escaped her lips was heavenly as he pulled back to watch her face, but she brought him back in by biting his bottom lip. Daniel strained out a moan, feeling himself beginning to leak with precum. “Please.” She then whispered again, kissing close to his earlobe as Daniel shuddered at the contact.
Who was he to deny such a thing? He stripped his shirt off when he leant back, hers following suit, tits bouncing when they were freed. Daniel could see her pierced, peaked nipples all fucking night long, it drove him insane. The perky swell of them, the way they bounced whenever she’d walk. Hold fuck, Daniel felt a pressure in his abdomen like no other. He could’ve came at the fucking sight of her tonight. He was worried he’d blow his load too quickly when she began sucking. There was no teasing, she went right to it, wet lips suctioning around his aching member as she licked the precum clean off his tip. Her hands and fingers danced over his balls, fingers occasionally reaching lower which Daniel didn’t know was an accident or not.
His groans were uncontrollable, his fingers tightened in her hair, eyes rolling back from the wet vacuum her mouth had formed. He had to focus really fucking hard on not cumming down her throat there and then. Only when she broke off and let out a slight, “ah.” Daniel came back to reality.
“You okay?” His grip immediately loosened as she giggled, climbing over his lap so his cock was directly facing her chest. “Yeah.” As she pushed her tits together Daniel instinctively eased his cock between them. “Ah fuck.” He choked out, his darkest fantasies coming to light as her tits squeezed over his large cock. It just about worked, her tits were the perfect size, just allowing him to slip back and fourth between the valley of her chest.
“Daniel.” She whined as he snatched her by the chin, forcing her to face him as she smirked at the dominance he showed. “I like it when you’re like this.” She muttered as he panted out, throwing his hips forwards. “Spit on my cock, fuck y/n.” He moaned as she did exactly what she was told, lubricating his cock further as he easily glided between her tits, letting out an actual moan, one that made her legs close tightly together.
“Fuck, keep looking at me.” He growled, pushing his hips, harder, faster, unable to get enough of the new sensation. “Fuck my mouth.” She gasped out, holding eye contact as Daniel felt himself loosing complete control. His cock messily slipped from her breasts, up to her lips again as he stood on the bed, her knelt before him, shuffling back so she was pressed against the head of the bed.
“Fuck, tap me if you wanna stop.” Daniel blurted, lost by the warmth of her mouth. She hummed sexily, the vibrations running all over his cock as he pumped into her mouth, slowly at first. She whined, pulling him by the ass into her as he snapped his hips into her once again. She tugged on his pants and underwear, freeing his ass as he held either side of her head, pumping his hips carefully into her.
He was holding back, she could tell so broke free from his cock. “Don’t hold back Daniel, I want you to use me.” Her words caught him off guard, twisting something deep inside of him.
“Fuck, are you sure?” But she was back on his cock before he had time to answer, he couldn’t cope. He knew there was little to no control left in him as he began fucking his cock into her throat. She could take him so deep without choking now, he closed his eyes and began thrusting into her warmth, overwhelmed by the sensation as he replayed her words over and over again in his mind. Use me, use me, use me. Something in Daniel snapped as he began fucking her face harsher, faster. Now, he watched for any sign of distress or the slightest movement for him to stop, but she was almost smiling around his cock, pulling him in harder as he rocked back and fourth into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing as he uncontrollably panted and moaned. Daniel was never too vocal in bed, but this was something else.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He pulled out quickly, the sensation creeping up on him a little too quickly. “Cum in my mouth, please.” Her plead was desperate as she wrapped herself around him, it not taking him more than four pumps before he was spilling into her mouth, his limbs shaking as he let out the loudest groan, not afraid to show her how good he was feeling.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” The Australian whined as she slowly sucked him, coercing him through the orgasm. Some of his cum dribbled down onto her lap and the bed below, forming a mess that Daniel felt proud of. He was slowly milking himself in her mouth, sighing in disbelief as he pulled off, giving her time to catch her breath back.
“Good girl, fuck, good girl.” He praised, still groaning from his high as he kissed her lips, not seeming to care the fact she’d just swallowed his cum. Seeing her all fucked out made him want to keep going, his erection didn’t falter once.
She stood up to clean herself up in the bathroom, Daniel frowning slightly. “Where are you going?”
“Oh, I thought you were… done.” She glanced up and down him, noticing he really wasn’t ‘done’ at all. “Are you?” Daniel questioned as a smirk arose on her face, smiling before plonking herself back down into the bed with him.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” Daniel hushed out, kissing her once more as he rolled on top of her body. “Me too.” She gently spoke, sliding her fingers through his hair as he pressed his lips to her cheek, then her temple. “Glad you came back with me.” He muttered, more muffled this time as she could feel him lining up his sensitive cock against her aching hole.
“Needed you for so long.” She inhaled sharply as he pulled off to watch her reaction as he slid into her tightness. They both let out a simultaneous groan, the friction being something both of them so desperately yearned for. “Daniel.” She whined out his name, pushing his hips further into her own, legs spreading wider so Daniel could nuzzle in perfectly. The pleasure that spread through both of them was too much to cope with. Her eyes rolled back in her head as Daniel fucked his sensitive cock inside of her, enjoying each gasp that escaped her mouth when he did. She felt like he was in control, just what she wanted. His lips came down to attach to her neck, kissing and sucking as he stroked his hand over the smooth of her skin there.
A nudge of her hand send Daniel’s hand wrapping around her throat as she offered him a teasing smile. His hand squeezed and he felt his cock twitch. “Fuck.” Daniel groaned, other hand moving up to fist around her hair. “You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” The Aussie moaned, dropping his forehead against hers before giving her a bruising kiss. “Yeah.” She nodded, voice hoarse from his hand wrapped around there.
“You want it harder, baby?” He questioned, pushing his sweaty body up slightly, fist pinning her down to the bed by her hair. “Yeah.” She whined again, rolling her naked hips against his, pussy wrapping tighter around his cock. Daniel couldn’t control himself, nor could he stop the painfully loud squeaking of the mattress that must’ve been echoing to every single room that surrounded them. He didn’t give a shit, neither did she. Their sex was rough, careless, but full of emotion. When Daniel had hitched her up on the sofa, opening up the windows, he purposefully nuzzled his body as closely to hers as possible.
“What if people hear?” She sighed, rolling herself back onto his cock. Daniel’s teeth tightened at her slow movements. “They will.” He inched his cock deeper inside of her.
“Fuck, Daniel. Pull my hair again.” She hungrily spoke, turning over her shoulder to eye him up as he listened immediately. “Want you to fuck me so good.” She then spoke as his eyes fluttered shut, an exhale leaving his lips as he focused on anything but cumming deep inside her.
“Give it to me Daniel, please.” She begged. “Want you to hit me.” She wiggled her bum as his fingers tightened around her flesh, lifting and then falling to spank on the flesh below. The sensation of pain mixed in with pleasure left a pornographic sound to escape her lips.
Daniel did it again, and again, and again, before he couldn’t control himself anymore. His hips were snapping harder, faster into hers, the view of the city outside becoming overwhelming as she bit down into a pillow to avoid herself letting out the screams of pleasure she needed to.
“Daniel, Daniel.” She moaned out her name, he groaned in response. “Cum inside me, fuck, please give it to me. I’ve missed it so bad.” Fuck. How could he last when she was speaking like that?
“Fuck-” he could only choke out, the pace becoming bruising as he let go of her hair, snatching at both her hips to force back into his own. She was pleading, begging him through his orgasm, and as he felt himself growing nearer she let out a low cry of, “I love you, Daniel…” In that moment he’d never felt better. His orgasm washed over him, cum filling up her tightened little pussy as her words were thick on his mind. Shuddering and twitching, he carefully rode her through his orgasm, tensing every muscle in his body as he did so.
His body collapsed on hers, large hands engulfing hers, lips kissing the back of her shoulder. “Fuck… I love you too…” Finally…
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