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slytherinslut0 · 5 months

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Theodore Nott. | that’s what i said.

info: your boyfriend was telling you about his day, when he began speaking fluent Italian, knowing damn well you only knew select words. when you asked him to repeat it, he had you come sit on his lap and ended up doing a little more than just repeating it.

word count: 3k

tags: 18+, literally pure smut. pure lorenzo italian daddy type smut. lots of italian translation (apologies to all my italians out there if they’re a little off) lots of praise, riding, piv, dirty talk.

Reclining across from you, Theodore Nott your lovely boyfriend, exuded an air of relaxed confidence while seated comfortably on the expansive leather couch in his dorm room. His legs were stretched wide, one arm casually draped over the armrest--each of his current mannerisms acting as physical testaments to the ease with which he inhabited the space.

As he delved into the narrative of his day, you, nestled in the love seat opposite him, eagerly absorbed the symphony of his voice. It was a melody that effortlessly traversed between English and Italian, a linguistic dance that had always held a special place in your heart.

His words held an irresistible charm, each syllable cascading like liquid honey off his tongue. The profound rasp of his voice, entwined with his seductive Italian accent stirred something indescribable within your body. The prospect of listening to him like this every day for the rest of your life fueled your anticipation, a certainty that the allure would never lose its magic. It was a sensation you eagerly anticipated, knowing that the richness of his voice would forever remain a timeless delight.

Yet, within the fluidity of his storytelling, Theodore suddenly shifted into Italian, weaving complete sentences with a gaze that lingered through half-lidded eyes, as if this linguistic transformation were the most natural thing in the world. Ordinarily, you might have interrupted him, gently reminding him of your language limitations, but today, well, you just couldn't bring yourself to do so.

You were almost in awe, unable to deny that there was an enchanting quality to the way the words curled off his tongue. That, coupled with the intensity of his stare, seemingly compelled you to stay silent, as if under a trance. You found yourself captivated, clinging to every indecipherable syllable, a familiar heat beginning to kindle between your thighs.

It was as if he momentarily lost himself in the labyrinth of his thoughts, forgetting, if only for an instant, that your understanding of the language was confined solely to select phrases and words. This linguistic detour left you with a quizzical frown, a silent plea for translation in the midst of his enchanting monologue, and finally, noting your confusion after what felt like ages, he paused, cocking a charming eyebrow at you.

"Something on your mind, Bella?" he teased, leisurely spreading his legs further as his gaze meandered from your eyes to your lips, only to return, locking onto your gaze once more. "You appear a touch...lost."

"Theo, I must confess--I haven't the slightest idea what you just said," you admitted, a playful pout gracing your lips. Your eyes sparkled with a blend of curiosity and mischief. "And I know you're well aware that was far beyond my linguistic expertise."

"All this time, and you still haven't mastered my language, Bella Mia..." Theo, with a dramatic flair, feigned a hurt expression, his stormy eyes widening ever so slightly. "You're truly breaking my heart."

Smirking, you teased, "forgive me, amore..." your fingers traced an absent pattern on the armrest, a subtle invitation. "Please, feel free to repeat it--I love the way it sounds..."

A mischievous glint sparked behind his irises, a playful confidence dancing in their depths. With a self-assured grin, he patted his lap invitingly, his messy brown locks falling effortlessly over his forehead.

"Why don't you come over here," he suggested, his tone velvety, "and I'll gladly repeat it for you?"

Your grin widened, a flicker of anticipation igniting within you as you slowly rose from the chair, not needing a second thought. His burning stare followed your every move as you veered closer to him, an intensity in his eyes that set your senses ablaze without effort. As you approached, a slow, deliberate stride, the air thickened with a tangible tension, your pulse thumping in your throat.

No matter the duration of your relationship with Theo, each touch remained an electric encounter, perpetually reminiscent of the initial spark. His reverence for your body endured, a devotion that unfolded afresh with every caress, as if every moment were a new discovery for his hands and eyes.

Stalling in front of him, you giddily pulled your lip between your teeth as his hands found yours, guiding them to his shoulders as he pulled you down to straddle his lap. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, his hands finding a natural place on your hips.

"Mm," he purred, burying his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling a sharp breath as his fingers dug into your skin. "So beautiful, Bella..."

You stifled a mewl as he pressed careless kisses along your neck, the playful banter giving way to a charged silence as his teeth softly grazed your pulse--the unspoken language between you both pulsating with desire and connection. The messy brown waves of his hair framed a face now tinged with a sultry charm, and the mischievous glint in his eyes promised a shared secret in the language only you two understood.

As if completely instinctively, you rolled your hips against his crotch, head falling back as his hands slid around to your ass, groaning against your neck as he aided your movements, guiding you back and forth against his growing bulge. You could already feel him throbbing beneath you, your cunt clenching in need for his touch as the only thing separating your heat from his groin was your thin layer of underwear, rubbing against his trousers.

"Ho voluto scoparti tutto il giorno..." he murmured, the same phrase he'd said earlier, the one in which you didn't understand. "...sei tutto ciò a cui riesco a pensare."

Your brows furrowed, about to question him, but exasperation quickly took over as he sank his teeth into your neck. He left vivid, possessive marks on your skin, his hands sliding up and under your skirt, tracing the supple contours of your ass. As you continued to move against him, a whirlwind of desire engulfed you, and you quickly lost yourself in the intoxicating rush.

"You're so fucking sexy," he breathed, his voice a low, deep murmur, reverberating a shudder of desire down your spine, his tongue trailing a flat stripe up the side of your throat. "Ho bisogno di te, mia bellissima piccola troia." (I need you, my beautiful little slut.)

"Theo..." you whimpered, your hands entwining in his hair, fingers weaving through his tousled auburn locks. His mouth ascended, planting tender, moist kisses along the ridge of your jawline. "Please-please-"

"Mm, you like that don't you, principessa?" His voice was a seductive purr, the words wrapping around you like silk as he pulled back a hand and gave you a sharp smack on your ass, eliciting an immediate squeal from your throat. "Tu ami grinding that dolce piccola figa on me like this, hm?..." (you love)(sweet little pussy)

In response to his words, an unabashed moan escaped your lips, louder than you had initially intended. Theo responded with a low growl, his free hand moving to your jaw, cradling it delicately as he guided your lips to his. The ensuing kiss spoke a language of its own--one of desire, need, and an unfiltered passion that surpassed any linguistic expression.

Your hold on his hair intensified as you pressed against him more urgently, the rhythm quickening. His tongue boldly slipped past your teeth, exploring your mouth with fervor. Simultaneously, his hands glided to the hem of your blouse, lifting it along your stomach. The kiss briefly broke as he encouraged your arms upward, swiftly pulling your shirt over your head and discarding it on the floor.

"Così bella..." he praised, his eyes fixated on your chest adorned by the delicate, lacy fabric of your white bralette. The intensity in his gaze felt scorching, as if it could sear your skin to ash. "Così, così bella, amore mio..." (So beautiful)(so, so beautiful, my love...)

His words took your breath away, slamming your chest like a fifty pound brick, the worship in his tone enough to render you speechless. You writhed in his lap, seeking friction, more friction that what you were currently experiencing--wanting him; needing him in every possible way. You captured his lips again, rolling your hips harder, the deep moan that escaped him found itself muffled by your mouth as you worked at the buttons on his shirt, fervently popping them free as quickly as you could.

The second his chest was exposed, you scoured it like a starved animal, the skin-on-skin contact sending a desperate clench to your cunt. You mapped his muscles to your memory as though it was the first time you'd ever seen them--the strength of his biceps, his strong, powerful abdomen, all of it hot and vibrating with need--you were breathless at the sight of his beauty under your palms, a feeling that had never once even partially faltered, no matter how many times you fucked him.

"Are you going to tell me what you said, Teddy..." you murmured, a playful smile dancing on your lips as your fingers skillfully moved to his belt, assisting in its release. "That was the whole reason I came over here, was it not?"

"Words can wait, amore," Theo muttered, his voice husky with desire, his gaze locked onto yours as he undid the zipper on your skirt, watching with blaring eyes as you tugged it off, along with your panties and tossed them to the floor. "Actions speak louder, don't they?"

"Mmfh," you moaned as he pulled you back against his mouth, his tongue running along your teeth as your bodies rocked together, his fingers gripping and caressing and squeezing every bit of your body that they could.

Pulling away, he met your eyes, heavily panting for breath as he gazed at you with a hunger that matched your own. His hands shifted, urging you to back up for a moment as he pulled his pants and boxers midway down his thighs--growling low in his chest as his thick, throbbing length sprung free, glistening with precum as it smacked against his chiseled stomach. You clenched.

He pulled you back against him, gliding you in slicking your soaked cunt along the length of his cock, his eyes burning wounds into your flesh as he watched you, lost in pleasure, lost in your need for him.

"Lo vuoi, amore mio?" (You want it, my love?) His voice barely rose above a whisper as he posed the question to which he damn well knew the answer. "You want this fucking cock inside that pretty little cunt?"

You shuddered, clenching hard in anticipation, nodding as you leaned closer, grazing your lips against his, panting heavily into his mouth.

"I want to hear you say it," he growled, one hand sliding up beyond your shoulders to grip the back of your neck, locking your gaze onto his. "Beg me to fuck you."

Your nails dug into his shoulders, entire body vibrating. "Please-Theo, please fuck me..."

"No, no," he playfully clucked his tongue, delivering a sharp smack to your ass with his free hand. You instinctively clenched again, the sensation electrifying. "In Italian."

"Gods," you groaned, his ceaseless teasing consistently pushing you to the brink of physical exhilaration in all the most delightful ways. Fortunately, this was a phrase he had taught you from the very beginning, a linguistic lesson that lingered since day one. "Per favore-per favore...ho bisogno di te..." (please-please…I need you.)

He exhaled, grunting. "Good girl."

It was a combined effort--he fisted his length, angling it at your core, your hands clutching his shoulders as you sank onto him, his thick girth stretching you wide with ease. You both collectively groaned, your walls pulsing and clenching around him as you took a second to adjust to his length, before rocking your hips in a slow, erotic rhythm; working yourself open on his cock.

Theo's eyes were glued to yours, watching your every movement as though he was afraid he'd miss something if he looked away. With a grunt, his big hands found your tits, palming and groping at the soft flesh with primal urgency, brushing his thumbs against your nipples, teasing them with soft circles. Your eyes rolled, your head falling back on your shoulders as you increased your pace, soft moans slipping past your lips.

"Esatto, piccola angioletta...così perfetta..." (That's right, little angel... so perfect) he murmured, his voice low, torn with husk. "You're so goddamn tight...squeezing me so good...così buono."

"Gods, Theo..." you whimpered, relishing in how deep he was, how big. "You're so fucking big."

Your boyfriend's hands shifted again, finding your hips, sharp fingernails digging into your skin as he thrust upward to match your movements, his cock hitting all the right spots. Your own fingers burrowed into his shoulders while you throbbed around him, lungs desperate for air, and he snarled, increasing his movements, setting a brutal pace that you couldn't match.

Cries fled you, pushed from your lungs by the carnal force of his hips, and Theodore consumed you--lips sucking at your neck, hands bearing bruises into your ass. His dick stretched you wide, fucked you deep, wracking your body with its punishment, breasts bouncing, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your skin.

You tilted your head back, his fervent mouth tracing down to your collarbone, claiming his territory across as much of your skin as possible. His cock pumped into you, beckoning an orgasm from the bottom of your brain--and as if sensing your clit screaming for attention, his hand snaked between your legs, fingers smoothly gliding over it. In response, you squealed, digging your nails into his shoulders with enough force to shatter the skin, body awash with pleasure.

"That's it, amore..." he groaned, breathless, teeth nipping at your earlobe, free hand gripping your ass with enough force to batter the skin. "Ride me like the good little whore you are."

"Fuck-fuck yes," you cried, your hips moving faster, chasing your orgasm as Theo's fingers rubbed tighter circles against your clit, increasing their relentless pursuit in bringing you over the edge. "Don't stop, Theo-fuck, please don't stop..."

"I won't, my love," he murmured, lips pressed against your ear, breathing the words into your eardrums. "Wouldn't fucking dream of it."

Theo's fingers worked magic on your clit as he thrust up into your cunt faster, harder--his cock hitting your g-spot with each aggressive movement. You could feel the pressure building inside your core, your body coiling like a tightly wound spring as he worked you closer and closer to the edge.

"Theo-" you gasped, your voice practically a scream. "I'm going to-I'm going-"

"Going to what, principessa...hm?" He implored, his voice a low, husky whisper escaping through his teeth; your entire essence pulsating, trembling amid his passionate pursuit. "Verrai per me? That tight little pussy going to cum on my cock?"

You wailed, head falling back, chest swelling for air. "Yes!...Theo-please!"

"Fallo. Cum for me." He graced your ass with another harsh smack, placing wet, sloppy kisses against your jawline. "Let me feel you."

With only a few more strokes, you came undone, cunt clamping around his cock, your whole body shaking as your orgasm washed over your entirety, blazing through every nerve ending and every fucking cell. Theo's fingers continued to rub you through it, prolonging the pleasure until you were left gasping for breath, nothing more than babbling nonsensical moans and pleas leaving your lips in the aftermath of his wrath.

Theo grunted, finally peeling his hand off your clit once you were whimpering and squirming against him, gripping the back of your head and drawing your mouth to his, meeting your lips in a sloppy wet kiss, each of you sucking in sharp breaths through your nostrils as you continued to ride him, your walls tingling in post orgasmic rapture.

"Brava ragazza," he moaned into your mouth, his body shaking with the force of his impending release. "So fucking good, bambina."

His movements grew erratic, hips bucking hard as he struggled to hold off his own orgasm, the force of his pace bordering on violent. You gasped, squealed, held onto him for dear life as you rode him, attempting to match his pace, but he was possessed, starved, breaking the kiss to lean back, both hands gripping your hips, holding you steady.

"You want my cum, little slut? Hm?" He gritted out, forehead glistening with sweat, his pupils blown wide with lust. "You want me to fill up this tight little cunt?"

You gasped, nodding frantically. "Yes! Please-please!"

"fuck...I'm gonna cum..." his lids fluttered, dark eyebrows pinching in concentration, his face contorting into a scowl of effort. "Cristo-you feel così buono-shit.."

With a final thrust, he growled, groaned--his movements slowing, breath sputtering from his lungs as he exploded, pumping once, twice, three times--all before coming to a halt, cock twitching inside you as he drained his hot cum deep into your pussy. Sweat beaded each of your foreheads, bliss buzzing between your bodies as you kissed him softly, panting into his mouth as you each worked silently to come back down to earth, pulses pounding in ruthless rhythm.

Spent and fully sated, Theo cradled the back of your head, pulling you into him, his free arm snaking around your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping him inside you as you two stayed like that for a moment, relishing in the intimacy between your bodies as he softened, his lips placing tender kisses on your shoulder.

"Ho voluto scoparti tutto il giorno..." he murmured softly, a hint of amusement in his tone as he repeated the words he knew you had no idea of their meaning. "sei tutto ciò a cui riesco a pensare."

"Stop teasing me." You huffed, burying your face into the crook of his neck. "It's not very nice of you, Theo..."

He chuckled, a low hum from deep in his chest, smirking against your skin as he tightened his grip around you, brushing loose strands of hair behind your ear.

“I wanted to fuck you all day...” he murmured, lips brushing your temple. “You’re all I can think about..."

You pulled back, meeting his stormy eyes. "Is that-"

"Yes." He interrupted you with a gentle kiss, smiling against your lips. "That's what I said."

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klausinamarink · 1 month

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based on this hilarious video with Gianmarco Soresi whom I’ve been watching his comedy work for a few months now

read on ao3

“What do you do?” The standup of the hour - the guy had introduced himself as Eddie - points at Steve.

Flustered at the attention directing every eye in the club to his table, Steve tries not to stammer as he answers, “Well, uh, I make movies.”

“Oh!” Eddie genuinely looks interested. “So you’re a director?”

“Yeah, pretty much. At least I started out as an indie, but I have a big project that’s out and a couple more on the way.” One table nearby claps and Steve tries to wave them off to stop.

“So what was that big project? Was it something we would’ve seen?” Eddie repositions himself so he has one leg up on the stool. Steve stares at how lean they seem with the tight black jeans. He’s got them daddy long legs. His brain suddenly burps out and it nearly makes Steve lose his composure.

“Uh, ha, I did The Final Bat. It’s on Shudder.” Steve shrugs nonchalantly, perfectly hiding his internal cringe. The horror genre is way out of his league and Steve’s already seen The Final Bat being on a few critical lists damning the title as another cliche-filled mess. He only did it because he had finally caved to Dustin’s pleading to make at least one horror movie.

Eddie, on the other hand, seems ecstatic by this revelation. “No way! That’s sick, dude! So the next time you make a horror flick, you’re gonna watch Blumhouse and A24 coming in at each other with steel chairs for distribution rights.”

Everyone laughs, including Robin. She smacks on Steve’s bicep with a wide grin. He smacks her back before he turns back to Eddie and clarifies, “I don’t like horror! I’m not doing it again!”

Aghast, Eddie throws an invisible hat to the ground and stamps on his feet. “Come on! Then what’s the point of watching the studios bite each other’s dicks off when you’re slipping out to watch - I don’t know - the Barbie movie! Now they’re just fighting for the next shitty horror movie to exist!”

Steve covers his mouth but fails to hold back in the laughter. Eddie’s infectious energy is starting to get to him. It makes his chest clench with something other than the usual pains.

Eddie patiently waits for the patrons to quiet down before continuing, still attentive to Steve, “I’m just wondering actually if you ever done theater class.”

“Sure did! Two years in high school,” Steve confirms.

“Let me guess, they did Hamlet?” Eddie raises an eyebrow like it’s meant to be accusatory.

“Yep, soon after I joined.” Steve nods, the memory of that production flashing before his eyes. It had its ups and downs but it was one of the most fun things Steve had ever experienced.

“No wonder they started as soon as your handsome ass walked in the club.” Eddie says low and flirtatiously into the microphone, staring directly into Steve’s eyes. It echoes across the room and back, bringing the howling laughter with it.

Heat crawls behind his face. Steve keeps his hands on the table, forcing down the urge to hide behind them. “I-” He stops to cough, “I wasn’t supposed to play Hamlet.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide, “What do you mean?!”

Robin answers loud enough for everyone to hear, “He was the grave robber, but the other guy who did Hamlet got into a coma a week before the show and Steve knew all the lines.”

“W-Woah, woah, woah!” Eddie holds his hands out, looking scandalous. He throws looks around the club. “Everyone, shut the fuck up right now! This is more important than caring about the rest of you!” Eddie drags the stool over and perches on it like a very much invested gargoyle, almost oblivious to the audience’s reaction.

“Okay, let me go through this.” He points at Steve, still holding eye contact as if Steve’s soul would provide the answer. “You weren’t Hamlet. You were meant to be the guy who gives him the skull to monologue. The OG Hamlet got into a coma for some reason-“

“Car accident.” Robin interjects.

“Yeah, no need to elaborate, ma’am. You, Steve-” Eddie breaks off for a second, holding back a laugh of his own. “You somehow knew all the Hamlet lines because you were waiting to skin OG Hamlet’s head and make his skull yours to do the monologue.”

There’s a scandalous outcry from all tables. Even when they mostly calm down, Steve uses the growing anticipation to ‘think’ about what Eddie just said before he casually shrugs and says, “Sounds about right.”

Eddie drops his face into his arm, letting everyone laugh at him. Steve lets himself break, his laughter bubbling out of him in a way that doesn’t sound so self-deprecating or hollow. If he was in a cynical mood, he would’ve thought it was pathetic that the only person who made him laugh so lightly again was some random standup.

After a moment, Eddie finally looks up, his face broken in disbelieving grin. He chuckles into the mic and looks back at Steve, “Sorry, it’s just I hear some wild stories in the crowd some nights and I think yours takes the cake.”

Steve smiles, “Thanks, man.”

Eddie stands up back, half-leaning onto the stool. “Do you still remember those lines? To be or not to be?”

The whole damn thing. “Uh… some of it?”

Eddie’s grin shifts into something more mischievous. “Let’s see who knows more.”

A collective oooh goes around the room, including Robin. She already has her phone out for recording. Steve rolls his eyes at her and takes a quick sip of his water. He clears his throat and starts, “‘To be or not to be, that is the question.’”

“‘Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer, the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune..’” Eddie says without missing a beat.

Oh, he thinks he knows it all. The sense of competition that Steve thought had died out with his future of a sports career reignites in his chest. He sits up even straighter. “‘Or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them.’”

“‘To die-to sleep, no more.’” Eddie slowly walks over to the edge of the stage, “‘And by a sleep to say we end the heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to.’”

“'tis a consummation devoutly to be wish'd.’” Steve almost shivers as he recites the line, uncertain if it’s from the club’s cooling temperatures or the intense gaze from Eddie’s eyes. “‘To die, to sleep.’”

“‘To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub,’” Eddie suggestively rubs a hand on his chest as he squats down. Steve’s eyes flicker to the hand, almost hypnotized by the motion. Nay, he shakes himself out of it. No distractions!

“‘For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil.’” It’s getting harder to remember the following lines. That hasn’t happened before. Steve has never forgotten the damn soliloquy in years, even when other people try to challenge him.

Eddie continues, “‘Must give us pause—there's the respect that makes calamity of so long life. For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, the oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely.’”

“‘The pangs-’” Steve feels his breath catching in his throat when he realizes, for the first time, what beautiful eyes Eddie has.

Oh.

Eddie suddenly perks up in excitement. For a second, Steve thinks that Eddie has come to the exact same thoughts for him. But then he remembers that he hasn’t completed his line, so Steve feigns defeat.

“I win!” Eddie stands up with a triumphant cry. He spreads his arms out to embrace the cheering whoops and applause. “And I’ve only got to play Hamlet in-” He spins around and crouches down so he can look Steve in the eye again as Eddie’s voice booms into the mic, “-FOURTH GRADE, MOTHERFUCKER!”

Steve’s not even mad. He just throws his head back, laughing and clapping along.

Almost too soon, Eddie moves on to heckle on another table. But he keeps glancing over at Steve, his smile widening every time. And Steve smiles back, feeling a laugh slip out of his slips at every joke. He watches Eddie more closely, feeling his heart pound faster in his chest the more Eddie stays onstage.

By the time Eddie has to depart and thank everyone for being here, Robin announces her need to go home and snuggle with her girlfriend.

“Man, that was the most I’ve ever laughed in this place.” Steve stretches his back, groaning at the little pops. God, being in his early thirties can be a bitch sometimes.

Robin only hums, moving her eyebrows up and down suggestively. Steve pointedly makes no further comment as he pays the tab.

Outside, the crisp night air welcomes him. Steve takes in a whiff, staring up at the light-polluted sky as he bids Robin a goodbye. Then he hears his name being called. He turns around and sees Eddie hurrying out the doors.

Steve feels a smile already on his face, “Hey, Hamlet.”

Eddie grins at him, teeth and all, “Hey, yourself.”

They stare at each other but it lacks the competitive intensity earlier. Steve likes this. But he already has a feeling that this won’t be the first time either one of them would challenge the other.

“Sooo…” Steve says when the silence stretches a little too long. He gestures between himself and Eddie, “Wanna restart our introductions?”

Eddie’s eyes brighten, “Yeah! Right, sorry.” He clears his throat and thrusts a hand out. “My name is Eddie Munson. Self-proclaimed comedian and musician. You may recognize me as the guy who beat you in Hamlet’s famous speech.”

Steve takes his hand. Eddie feels bony and thin, but large enough to fit perfectly into Steve’s palm. He tries not to sound so eager as he says, “Steve Harrington. Film director who doesn’t like horror. Believe it or not, I actually know the whole stupid thing.”

Eddie tilts his head, narrowing his eyes, “Really? Like, no offense, but even if you remember that much-”

“‘And thus the native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, and enterprises of great pith and moment with this regard their currents turn awry and lose the name of action.’” Steve winks with the Harrington Charm, smile and all.

Eddie stares at him for so long that Steve feels his heart racing for a different reason. And then, Eddie turns around and muffles a loud scream into his free hand. When the man turns back to face him, he’s sporting the widest smile Steve has never seen.

“You knew the whole thing!?” Eddie’s eyes sparkle with utter adoration.

“Yep.” Steve pops the ‘p’, grinning like a little shit.

“But why did you forget that line?”

“Let’s just say,” Steve squeezes Eddie’s hand, intertwining their fingers together, “I got distracted by the pangs of love.”

Eddie bites on his lower lip as he swoons his body over so they are pressing against each other. With half-lidded eyes, Eddie whispers, “You know that part is Hamlet referring to missing his dead dad, right?”

Of course Steve couldn’t help but kiss him.

#and now for something silly #as if i don’t always write something silly for steddie #klaus writes #steddie #stranger things

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calliesmemes · 2 months

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ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED QUOTES FROM TUMBLR TEXTPOSTS, X (formerly known as twitter) POSTS, TIKTOK, MEMES, AND OTHER SOURCES AROUND THE INTERNET

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“ Currently considering becoming a bother and a nuisance, maybe even a menace or a rascal. ”

“ Hungry? Eat the government. ”

“ Yes, I wanna fuck after every argument. ”

“ Silence, you uneducated peanut! ”

“ They should invent a being alive that isn’t so difficult. ”

“ Women have to think I’m hot or none of this matters. ”

“ Due to personal reasons I will be named an enemy of the state. ”

“ Being overdressed is a myth made up by people who didn’t want you to have fun and be sexy. ”

“ What even are daddy issues? Just traumatize your father back. ”

“ I LOVE complaining! You can’t take that away from me! ”

“ I went to the silly goose convention and they all knew you. ”

“ I’m simultaneously ‘I’m tired of this grandpa’ and ‘that’s too damn bad!’ ”

“ The word ew coming out of a pretty girl’s mouth holds so much power … I think that it can tear apart nations. ”

“ Someone made fun of my shoes and the whole time I just thought of ways to push them out the window. ”

“ If you’re short, simply get taller. ”

“ I better think twice? Buddy I don’t even think once. ”

“ My off putting looks, awkward demeanor, and strange behavior have captivated you. ”

“ There’s something deeply, fundamentally wrong with you. Can we kiss? ”

“ You are a fool. When you walk, clown music plays. ”

“ I mean yeah he’s evil and all but what if I were his favorite? ”

“ I really do hate thinking. ”

“ In my defense, I simply do not vibe with the law. ”

“ I’ve done nothing wrong. Except all the atrocities. Besides that, I’m innocent. ”

“ Sorry I couldn’t hear you over my internal monologue. ”

“ Of course you have white hair and trauma. ”

“ So apparently the bad vibes I’ve been feeling are actually ‘severe psychological distress’. ”

“ Stop calling me a bad person just because I’m orchestrating your downfall! ”

“ The more lip gloss I collect the longer I live. ”

“ Sorry that I am obsessed with you in the unhealthiest way possible. As if it's my fault ”

“ The multiple failed assassination attempts against me have helped build both character and self esteem. ”

“ I could be your loser boyfriend. Do you ever think about that? ”

“ Accidentally went and got myself killed yesterday, but god wont let me die so I’m back ”

“ What do you mean napping isn't a good coping mechanism? What do you mean my problems are still here? ”

“ Academic validation is required for my sanity. ”

“ RIP to everyone killed by the gods for hubris but I’m different and better. Maybe even better than the gods. ”

“ Researching the stages of grief to see if I can get them finished in ten minutes tops. ”

“ My parents were like I’m gonna make a child that is so beyond help. ”

“ It’s not easy to admit when you’re wrong, and that’s why I won’t do it. ”

“ Why can’t this family ever have a funky good time? ”

“ How do I show people that I’m more than my unethical career choice? ”

“ I fucked my way into this mess, and I’ll fuck my way out. ”

“ You look so biteable today. ”

“ Why am I suffering? I have so many correct opinions and takes. ”

“ I AM HAUNTED BY A PAST THAT I CANNOT GO BACK TO! anyways ”

“ Challenging authority, angering gods. The family business. ”

“ Third base is me telling you about my father. ”

“ Hey girl. Plagued by terrifying visions? ”

“ Got caught giving a fuck. Embarrassing. ”

“ I didn’t ‘miss’ the red flags; I saw them and thought that they looked sexy. ”

“ Do my dark circles and deteriorating health make me look hot? ”

“ I get my news from the only reliable source, cryptic symbolism in my dreams. ”

“ Another day of being a bisexual disaster. ”

“ I’m going to let myself be a little unhinged today, as a treat. ”

“ Some of you act like murder is such a big deal. ”

“ You wanna hunt me for sport so bad that it makes you look stupid. ”

“ You’re not a girlboss unless you’ve killed someone. ”

“ It’s so weird how no one ever has correct opinions about things except for me. ”

“ Hello, my love — I mean, my rival ”

“ No one is calling me baby and it’s outrageous I can’t believe it. ”

“ No talking stage. Mutual obsession and you see god in my eyes or nothing. ”

“ I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOOKUP CULTURE DIE IN MY ARMS ”

“ Yes baby your emotional walls are high and impenetrable can we kiss now? ”

“ Affection is disgusting. Drown me in it. ”

“ I am gatekeeping my respect from you. ”

“ Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions. ”

“ I am equal parts fuck around and find out and please don’t yell at me I’ll cry. ”

“ Short legs, big butt. I’m a corgi. ”

“ Fuck being the bigger person; I’m going to start biting people. ”

“ Well that wasn’t very slay of you! ”

“ May I please get a crumb of affection? ”

“ I crave power! Please don’t yell, though; I’m sensitive. ”

“ You call it a near death experience; I call it a vibe check from God. ”

“ Here are some scissors. Now cut it out. ”

“ Might commit a little tomfoolery, maybe even some shenanigans. ”

“ All these flavors, and you choose to be salty. ”

“ How can I live, laugh, love in these conditions? ”

“ What if I said ‘to be honest’ but then lied? ”

“ I'm financially at a stage where I understand why people do fraud. ”

“ Yes I may be evil and morally corrupt, but I’m also incredibly beautiful and I think that makes up for it honestly. ”

“ Debates are stupid. Why would I want to sit down and argue with someone blatantly dumber than me? ”

“ I forget but I do NOT forgive.. I'm just walking around hating bitches can't remember why ”

“ Ding dong your opinion is wrong! ”

“ I’m coming for your kneecaps. ”

“ You dropped your nose you fucking clown. ”

“ Are you a fire alarm? ‘Cause you are really fucking loud and annoying. ”

“ Call me an escalator, because I let people down. ”

“ I love me a good lesbian scandal! ”

“ If you can’t run away from your problems, you’re not running fast enough. ”

“ Everything I want to do is illegal. ”

“ Don’t make me hit your ankle with my Barbie scooter! ”

“ I tell gay jokes because I am a gay joke. ”

“ Fuck! I dropped my mental stability! ”

#askbox meme #askbox prompt #rp ask meme #ask box #roleplay sentence meme #sentence starters #roleplay prompts #roleplay sentence starters #* sentence meme

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demonbanger · 2 years

Note

Hullo !! 😁 How go your design projects ?? Hope you’re having a great Monday, and a lovely rest of your week !! ☀️💞

HIIIIII my projects are going well :3 I’m making 20 diff designs and have to get them done and digitized by Thursday, I chose Vivienne Westwood as my brand to make a portfolio for their fall 2023 collection. ITS A LOT!! And I have to go sample shopping for fabric interfacing , a snap button, and a zipper. Currently eating peanut butter and fried rice before I have a big leg day 😈😈😈😈 my coworker wants to see my big leg pump when I lift some weights. We GO JIM 💪🏽💪🏽🔱✨

I hope you are doing super and have a wonderful day and start of your week. What are your plans?!

#🔮—ask demon daddy #caught me monologuing over here #meowzfordayz 💕🐱#lovely mutuals #ask demon daddy

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leonw4nter · 4 months

Text

(Second) Prettiest Fairy Princess

Dad!DI!Leon x F!Reader

“Say ‘bye’ to momma!” Leon beams as he holds his daughter, Aurora– or Rory, as you two lovingly call her.

“Bye momma!” the little girl in his arms beam. One hand wound around his neck and the other raised up, a tiny hand waving at you.

You say your own share of byes too, pressing a kiss to your 4 year-old’s cheek before giving Leon his own kiss to his lightly chapped yet still pink lips. You get in the Uber Leon picked up for you, shutting the door and heading to the mall where you will be having a girls’ day with Helena and Hunnigan, your former coworkers. Despite retiring because you were going to become a mother, you still stayed close with the two.

As soon as the car is no longer in his sight, he heads back into your shared home. Rory asks to be put back down so Leon does as she wants, bending down with a slight groan and making sure she’s standing upright before he lets go and bends back up, another groan escaping his mouth along with the faint pops of joints. My age is definitely catching up with me now, he thinks to himself though he doesn’t mind if it’s you he’ll be aging with.

“Daddy! I want to play!” Rory excitedly says as she takes Leon’s hand with her tiny ones and drags him to the stairs, heading for the direction of her room.

“Alright, alright, kiddo. Let’s head up, no?” he asks with a pleased smile. There’s dishes waiting in the sink and laundry waiting to be folded but they all could wait if it means spending some time making his daughter smile. The sight of his daughter’s grin and the gold wedding band that flashes a bright gold beam whenever the sunlight hits it is something his former self didn’t think he could ever experience. Back in ‘98, he was certain that the farthest length of meeting the greatest love in his life and starting a family would stop at dreams and wishful thinking but he was wrong.

He didn’t even realize they had reached the top of the stairs as he almost trips, engrossed in the sweet monologue he had going on in that head of his. His daughter’s tiny arms push him into the pastel yellow and pink room before shutting the door and proceeding to yank out tutus and tiaras from a toy basket.

“Sit.” she sternly says as she points to the carpeted ground right beneath Leon’s feet. Not one to disobey a lady’s orders, he promptly sits down with crossed legs and looks at her with genuine interest. Not too long after, Leon is dolled up to look the part of “a pretty princess for a tea party but you’re only the second prettiest because I’m the first one”, which earns a small laugh from him. Even to himself, he's second to everything because he always keeps his girls at first.

Rory hands him a small mirror so Leon can see the sparkly splash of pink, green and orange on his eyelids as well as the most pink blush he’s ever seen. His lips are the brightest shade of red ever making him look real goofy but if it means making his daughter’s day, he doesn’t mind; she’s the princess and he’s just the jester (and the occasional knight in shining armor). She swiftly puts her own play make-up on, her own lids smeared with different sparkly shades of pink and her lips in the same red shade as Leon’s.

“Your highness, let me get the tea and cookies.” she says in a wonky British accent.

“Alright, my beautiful princess.” Leon says, though he doesn’t put on a fake accent.

“Daddy, no! You’re supposed to also say ‘and please give me the sugar plum tea’! Again!” she says with a hand to the hip, dropping the accent.

“Okay,” he softly mutters with an amused smile. She definitely got the sass from her mother. “Alright, my beautiful princess, please give me the sugar plum tea!” he repeats.

She smiles brightly and excitedly announces that it’s coming right up. She walks out of the room, occasionally coming back in to take some more cups, plates, spoons, and bowls. Wait? Bowls? The princess is putting her heart and soul into this so-called “sugar plum tea”. Because the princess was brought up with manners and polite etiquette, she served Leon some cookies and cakes as he waited, along with a Beanie Baby that her uncle Chris got her (insisting it’s a snack, providing no further explanations). Playing along, he loudly made chomping sounds while she walked out of the room and busied herself with the tea. After a few minutes, she walks back inside with a tea pot and tiny cups filled with water.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, madame. My chef ahem is new to the kitchen so I had to tell him how to prepare tea the princess way,” she apologizes as she sets the cup in front of Leon with a complementary saucer.

With a sharp eye, he looks at the water and sees that there isn’t anything floating on the water; the water doesn’t look cloudy too and it’s impossible for her to have gone downstairs and taken water from the dog’s bowl so he deemed it safe to drink. After all, she did exert some effort into actually “making” the tea. He hooks his fingers in the loop of the tea cup, making sure to emulate the sticking out pinky finger just like Rory is doing before taking a sip. “The water doesn’t have an odd taste. Okay, she definitely wasn’t fooling around,” Leon quietly observes. He gives her a bright smile, complimenting the tea and calling it “the most delightful beverage to ever tickle my taste buds, a true drink fit for the prettiest princesses in this kingdom”, which prompts the little girl in front of him to giggle and start complimenting the “chef” who prepared the “tea” (the “chef” is, in fact, the Djungelskog that Leon got for you when you were 6 months into the pregnancy and very much emotional every time you saw the bear at IKEA’s window or online site). Apparently the chef is French and has worked with Barney and the Little Einsteins, according to her. This entire moment is too silly and wholesome so Leon decides to take a selfie, making a mental note to send this to you later on.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

The tea party carried on for a few more minutes until she got drowsy, prompting Leon to get up and carry her over to her bed. Grabbing a few sheets of wipes, he removes the eyeshadow and lipstick on her face before unclipping some clips from her hair and taking her tutu off. It doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep and Leon picks the toys up, pouring the water out of the pots and cups and wiping them dry before putting them back in the basket. He takes this chance to finally get back at the chores waiting for him but not before he sends the picture to you. Opening the app and choosing the contact named “my Y/N”, he sends a short message asking how you are and detailing the sweet playtime he had with your daughter along with the picture. After an hour or two, he finally finishes doing the chores– even sweeping the floors and polishing the dining table, as well as bathing the dog. He gets in the shower and freshens up, remembering the tender moment hours ago and finding himself smiling wider each time.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

It’s now quarter to 6 and Leon finishes setting up dinner just as the bell rings. He practically skips to the door, his face lighting up with joy when he sees you. He takes your bag and slings it over his shoulder, undoing the strap of your sandals and asking about how your day went. As you step out of them, he takes the heels and places it on the shoe cabinet and puts your bag on the couch. Rory jumps off of the couch, excitedly walking over to you and hugs your legs with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen. She tells you about her and her dad’s day, tiny hand gently holding your wrist as she leads you to the dining table for dinner. You were just about to reach over a piece of food and cut it up into smaller pieces for her when Leon places a hand on yours, telling you that he’ll do it.

“C’mon honey, you were out walking all day. Just sit and have dinner, I’ll do it this time,” he softly says. You don’t argue against him, letting him do the cutting. Rory does all the talking, which you are thankful for since your social battery is nearly drained.

Dinner tasted amazing as usual and now your entire family is in the living room, watching The Little Prince on the TV. What Coco does to Leon, The Little Prince does to you; you’ve never finished the movie without shedding a few tears and laying on Leon’s shoulder for some comfort. Though you both know it’s a movie that has you reduced to tears, you still choose to put it on because not only is it genuinely good, it’s a movie Rory loves. While waiting for the movie to finally load, a question pops up in your mind.

“Sweetie, where’d you get the water for your tea from?” you ask. Leon doesn’t mind, probably guessing that she got it from the water bottle you forgot to bring downstairs in the morning.

“I got it from the fish tank!” she beams. Your smile swiftly drops and your head turns to Leon; you swear you’ve never seen the color drain that fast from his face. The movie finally loads but Leon feels slightly off, the food in his stomach making him feel a little odd. He’s that weak for his little girl; he’s a seasoned agent trained to read people by their mannerisms but his daughter’s devious giggling made it past his normally highly-perceptive gaze.

NOTE - I whipped this fic up right after @agent-dessis-posts asked me if I write dad!Leon and I immediately got that burst of motivation. There was this book called "Make A Wish" that I read around mid-November and the dad matched ID/DI!Leon's description so the whole time I just pictured that version of Leon whilst reading and it was AMAZING (the dad in the book is a single dad to a nine year old which made it even more amazing for me). Anyways, you guys seem to really like my fics which I appreicate a lot so thank you so much!!! I'll post the directory to my blog soon, I'm just making things look cuter :)

The heart dividers are from @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

#fluff #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy fluff #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #biohazard #death island leon #resident evil death island #dad leon kennedy #dad leon s kennedy

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hanasnx · 3 months

Text

Something about DADDY!JASON TODD just makes you wanna sit in his lap and babble while he basically ignores you until he registers you as a hole to fuck. You're yapping to him and he's pinching the hem of your skirt to lift it for a peek.

"Uh-huh," he replies absentmindedly, complete devoid of care to hear whatever you're talking his ear off about. He tucks his hands under your arms to pick you up and readjust you so you're straddling him, you still haven't taken a breath. "Yeah," he tells you, poorly feigned interest, and you eat it up, adding to your enthusiasm. You don't even notice how you stand on your knees over him, and he's keeping his eyes on his crotch. Tonguing his lower lip, he shifts his hips forward, and the sound of his belt unbuckling alerts you.

Innocently quizzical, you ask, "Daddy, what are you doing?"

He has yet to meet your gaze, giving you one shake of his head, a clear indicator to pay him no mind. "Nothing, princess, keep talking." A subtle crease in his brow forms, and a soft expel of air from his pursed lips sound as he tugs down his waistband. You do as he asks, and continue on with your little monologue complete with endearing anecdotes lost on your audience because he's too busy roughly handling you. Yanking you closer to him, you're used to it and undeterred. Your skirt fans out around his crotch, and his massive hand on your thigh draws you forward as he cranes his neck to peer over you. He fists his cock, now free and standing at attention.

He lines it up, and he locks eyes with you while you're still talking. The reward of his eye contact shoots you up with an impulse to engage him, "Can you believe that?" Mistaking his attention for interest. There's a little curl to his lips because as endearing as your mistake is, the only reason he's holding your gaze is to see your eyes light up when his swollen tip starts clumsily thumbing your cunt. You gasp at the sensation, you're not allowed to wear panties around him for this very reason: to stay accessible. You shouldn't be surprised, but the pleasant sensation of how it nudges you makes you freeze to let it roam.

Jason rolls his tongue between his lips, a sense of pride blooming in his chest and on his expression as he squeezes your thigh in affirmation. Painfully, his brutish head bats against your clit, and he controls your squirming with a harsh hand on your arm at the crook of your elbow. Once you get it through your head he wants you still, he flips up your skirt so he can glance down, tilting his head to see yours and his parts playing with each other. He admires it, biting down on the skin past his lip. Only then does he recognize you've quieted. "What's wrong, babygirl, why'd you stop?"

“It... hurts, Jay."

“D'aw, won’t hurt forever.” he says in an upbeat manner, encouraging you to push through it. It barely constitutes as fake sympathy as he raises his hips to sink further in you and you wince, a little whimper emitting. As he hollows you out, a wetter sound each time he pulls out and plunges a few inches in, your eyes squeeze shut. A huge hand cups the back of your neck, commanding your attention with a sore pinch. He looks into your gaze again, carefully and deliberately choosing when to do it, like he's choosing when to make you feel like a human instead of a sex object. “Where’s my brave girl, huh? Can you be brave for me?” winded from effort, he's husky voice sends a shiver down your spine. Eager to please him, you give him a little pitiful nod, and he bucks his hips again. “So fucking tight, baby. How old are you again? Swear I took your virginity already.” He’s fucking with you. He’s fucked you every which way to Sunday but you still stupidly play along.

"You did, Jay, you did!" you insist, and he's more than halfway in now.

"Yeah? I did, didn't I? Only 'cause you do dumb shit like this. Isn't that right?" With every thrust, a grunt spills from his nose, and you resist the urge to grind down on him and introduce yourself to too much.

"I don't mean to, daddy, m'sorry." you weep, eyes downcast as he fucks up into you. He finally sheathes, and you cry out, clutching onto his arms to brace.

"Running your little mouth in a skirt like this, bare pussy sittin' on me. The fuck is up with that? Sex dolls can't speak."

#tw daddy kink #indy: drabbles #ch: jason #jason todd drabble #ch: daddy!jason #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #jason todd fic #jason todd fanfiction #arkham knight smut #arkham knight x reader #red hood smut #red hood x reader #reader insert

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navybrat817 · 5 months

Text

Resignation

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You get to know Andy a bit more and put in your notice, but your boss doesn't it take it well. Word Count: Almost 4.4k Warnings: Slow burn, getting to know each other, sugar daddy contraction, tension, flirting, slight insecurities, inner monologue, yelling (apologies to anyone named Sean), Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?) Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics, Header - yours truly Previous Part: Sign the Dotted Line A/N: Welcome back to my Terms and Conditions AU! Hope you lovelies enjoy. Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. ❤️ Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The feeling of floating on cloud nine wasn't something you experienced much in your life. There were high points, of course, but nothing like the elation that filled you as Andy went to make a copy of the contract. It was almost dizzying to think that for the next three quarters of a year, everything was going to be okay. Better than okay.

All thanks to Andy.

Estelle shrieked as she pulled you to your feet. “You're a sugar baby! You're a sugar baby!” she sang, making you laugh as she did a little dance with it.

“I thought you said I was going to be his ‘companion’,” you teased.

She leveled you with a look. “It’s the same thing,” she said, grabbing her bag. “And since your new ‘companion’ is taking you to the diner, why don’t we celebrate tomorrow? You better give me all the details.”

You giggled again at the implication as she squeezed you in a tight hug. If you weren’t happy before, you would've been thanks to her infectious attitude. “You sure don’t need me to head down with you?”

“No, I’m good. You just enjoy the rest of the day,” she said, winking at you and pointing at Andy when he came back. “Have fun and be good to her or I’ll destroy you,” she told him as she walked by with every ounce of confidence you wished you had. “And nice meeting you!”

You half expected there to be an air of awkwardness once the two of you were left alone and were surprised not to feel it at all. It was hard to describe the atmosphere outside of that, but it was something both familiar and new. Maybe that was because Andy continued to put you at ease all while exciting you. The next chapter of your time would be unpredictable in ways that you were looking forward to encountering.

Did he feel the same way?

Andy chuckled after a moment, the sound bringing a smile back to your face as he held up the papers in his hand. “I realize this is probably a bit outdated since everything is done electronically, but I prefer it this way.”

“I don't think it’s outdated,” you assured him as he handed you the contract, his fingers brushing yours. Would you ever get used to the jolt of electricity you felt at his touch? “It’s less of a chance of it getting leaked.”

Though it was you he worried about, you still wanted to protect his reputation.

“Yes, it is,” he said, smiling to himself when you tucked the papers carefully in your folder. “Estelle is serious, isn’t she? She’ll destroy me if I hurt you?”

“Oh, yeah. She isn’t afraid of anyone,” you said as you shifted slightly on your feet. “But I wouldn't worry about her. I don't expect you to hurt me.”

He had to know that.

Andy took a step closer. “She’s a good person to have on your side,” he commented, butterflies fluttering in your stomach at the soft look in his eyes. “And I have no intention of hurting you.”

You carefully considered his words with furrowed brows. “Aren't you supposed to say you promise not to hurt me?”

A sad smile touched his lips. “People make promises and usually do so for the right reasons, but they don't always lead to the desired outcome,” he replied as if he peeled back a small layer of himself that still left you with questions. “Take the weeklong silence, for example. I inadvertently hurt you by not reaching out.”

Your cheeks flamed, almost wishing you hadn't mentioned it. “But we talked about that. You didn't mean anything by it.”

“Yes, we did talk about it and I'm glad you told me how you felt. I still caused doubt in your mind though,” he said, his tone gentle and understanding without breaking eye contact. “So while I do want to promise that I’ll never hurt you, I'd rather promise that I have no intention of ever hurting you. Because I don't.”

It took a moment to recall that Andy was married once years ago. While you weren't sure why things ended, did his divorce give him a new perspective on making and keeping promises? Or was it his time as a lawyer?

Whatever the reason you had to respect him for his outlook.

“I appreciate that and I will hold you to that,” you said, falling in step beside him as you headed for the door.

He raised an eyebrow as he held it open for you to go through, allowing you to catch the scent of his cologne again as you walked past. You almost asked what brand it was just so you could get a bottle and spritz your worn in sweatshirts. “Isn't this the part where you promise you have no intention of hurting me?” He questioned.

“I don't think I have the power to hurt you,” you replied, not looking behind you as you headed toward the elevator. You were positive you didn't have that kind of influence nor did you want to hurt him. “But I promise that I have no intention to do so.”

You froze when he leaned in close, his beard ticking your ear and it took all of your inner strength not to turn your head toward him. “Never underestimate how powerful you are, honey,” he whispered, your breath rushing out of your lungs as he stepped back and gestured to the open elevator doors. “Shall we?”

“Sure,” you replied, your voice more breathy than you intended as you stepped inside. You swore you caught him smiling before he joined you.

“I gave my driver the afternoon off, so you’re stuck with me,” he said, pressing the button for the lowest level before the doors slid shut. “I hope that’s okay.”

“I think I can handle you driving,” you teased, happy that the two of you would be alone for part of the evening.

He chuckled before he went quiet again. The silence was comfortable, the soft dings as you passed each floor the only sound in the space. It gave you a moment to admire the man beside you. With his perfect posture, chin held high, and pristine suit, you tried to picture how he looked when he simply relaxed. No eyes on him. No one expecting anything from him.

Maybe he can show me that side of himself sometime soon.

“You’re staring,” he stated.

You smiled, not at all embarrassed that he caught you without looking your way. “I guess it’s because I’m still trying to figure you out.”

That and he was still one of the most handsome men you had ever seen.

But who was Andy Barber beyond his money? Your hero and your second chance at a better life, but what else? What did he do for fun? What did he want out of life, years from now?

Andy swung his head toward you as the elevator came to a stop. “I guess that makes two of us then.”

You found yourself in his car a few minutes later. The Audi still had that “new car” smell to it, the passenger seat sleek and not at all broken in. There wasn’t a spec of dust on the leather interior. Either he didn’t drive it often or he made sure to keep it in next to perfect condition.

Your mind drifted back to Andy’s earlier statement. What exactly was he trying to figure out? If he meant that he was trying to figure you out, he didn’t have to look too deeply. And if he was still trying to figure himself out, that was normal. Searching for your true self was a lifelong journey. And with your newfound sense of freedom at your fingertips, you’d be able to explore your own passions and visualize your ideal self.

But part of you figuring Andy out was getting to know him.

“Why the diner?” You asked, glancing over at him as he concentrated on the road in front of him. “I mean, why go there for coffee or food when you can go anywhere else?”

Maybe upscale places weren’t his usual style. He took you to the Courthouse and looked at ease there, but maybe the diner was an escape. Something different.

“I didn’t grow up with much, but my mom made it work as best as she could,” he admitted, a wistful note in his voice. “We never went hungry and she got creative with some meals so I wouldn’t get tired of eating the same thing. Things like fast food were considered a treat and diners were fine dining.”

You shifted in your seat as you listened, touched by the unexpected vulnerability. “I’ll bet she looked forward to those moments,” you said.

“She did and so did I,” he smiled over at you. “On the rare nights when she was able to save up and take us to a diner, she got a large breakfast or dinner meal for us to split. Best way to stretch her dollar and make sure neither of us felt hungry after.”

You almost reached over to take his hand, but you didn’t want to overstep. He was giving you a piece of himself by revealing a part of his past. That was more than you could ask for.

“I went to diners in college, too, when I was struggling to make ends meet,” he continued, stroking his beard for a moment. “I guess they kind of stuck with me because they reminded me of happier times. They also serve as a reminder to be thankful for what I have. It’s important to remember who I was then and who I am now.”

You let out a breath and closed your eyes as he turned onto the next street, wishing you could thank his mother for raising such an amazing man. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

His hand covered yours unexpectedly when your eyes opened. “Thank you for asking.”

You turned your wrist so your palm met his, your stomach flipping as he held it a little tighter. Opening up was never easy, even if Andy made it sound effortless. You felt closer to him after hearing that important piece of his history. Even the crackle of electricity felt different this time. Instead of a jolt, it was like a steady hum.

Maybe that closeness was the reason you didn’t want to let go when he parked his car in front of the diner.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

You swallowed as you glanced out the window, the flashing lights from the sign of the beckoning for you to go in. “I just can't believe I'm actually going to quit,” you said, clutching your bag with your other hand. “I mean, I do believe it. I have my resignation letter here and everything.”

“Even when you had that bit of doubt that the contract wouldn't go through, you had your letter ready,” he smiled.

You toyed with the strap of your bag as you tried to hide your smile. “I guess I did.”

Preparation never hurt anyone.

“But if you’d rather hold off until tomorrow, I understand. I can even drive you back here if you want to wait,” he offered.

For a moment, you questioned if you should wait. As you bit your lip to fight your smile more and squeezed Andy’s hand, you made your decision. You signed the contract. You were more than ready.

Most of all, you deserved to start your path to a better future.

“I’m ready,” you assured him, reluctantly releasing his hand before you unbuckled your seatbelt. “Are you going in or did you want to wait here?”

“I’ll grab a coffee while I wait,” he said, stopping you as you reached for your door handle. “Allow me.”

You smiled to yourself as he went around to let you out. “Are you always a gentleman?”

“Not always,” he said without missing a beat, winking as you joined him on the sidewalk.

You licked your lips and gazed into his bright blue eyes. Could he see the want in yours? What would it take to make him lose control?

“I’m looking forward to seeing that side of you, Mr. Barber,” you smiled, brushing past him as he inhaled.

But first things first.

The bell rang as you walked inside and you paused to take it all in. Taking Andy’s earlier story to heart, you wouldn’t allow yourself to forget that this diner was part of your story. It not only led him to you, but also kept you from becoming homeless. It was a blessing.

“Hey,” Casey, one of the veteran servers, nodded to you from behind the counter before she looked over your outfit. She seemed to forget all about you as Andy as he walked in behind you. You didn't blame her. “Hi there. Sit anywhere you’d like.”

Andy put his hand on your lower back before he leaned in, your breath hitching slightly. “Good luck, honey,” he whispered, releasing you as Casey gawked in your direction. “I’ll just have a coffee, please,” he said as he took a seat at the counter.

The usual warmth Andy exuded was down a notch. Still friendly, but different. Or maybe you were just telling yourself that in order to feel special. “Is Sean here?”

“Yep. In the office,” Casey answered, pouring Andy a fresh cup of coffee. “Just got here.”

“I’ll be right back,” you told Andy, feeling his eyes on you as you headed through the employee only doors.

Sean had his head buried in some paperwork as he grumbled to himself. With a deep breath, you knocked on the open door. He didn't speak to you much outside of your shifts and hardly praised you for a job well done, but he wasn't a bad boss. You felt bad disturbing him, but it was now or never.

“Hi. May I come in?” You asked as he looked up.

“Yeah. Don't shut the door though. Lock’s broken,” he said, nodding to the chair in front of his desk. “Didn’t expect to see you today. What are you all dressed up for?”

“Oh, I had a meeting,” you answered, which wasn’t a lie. You did meet with Andy. “That’s actually what I needed to talk to you about.”

“A meeting?” He repeated with a frown. “Don’t tell me you’re quitting.”

Your stomach began to twist in knots. The last thing you wanted to do was disappoint your boss, even if he wouldn’t be that for much longer. Being a waitress also wasn’t your dream job, but it helped you when you needed it.

Now you have to help yourself.

“Yes, I am. I’m putting in my two weeks notice,” you said quietly, taking the letter out of your bag and placing it on the desk when he stared impassively. “I found another opportunity and I’m going to take it, but I’m happy to take any shifts I can over the next two weeks to help.”

Sean didn’t speak for a moment as he drummed his fingers on the desk. “Two weeks? No, that's not gonna work. We’re short as it is,” he said, shoving the paper away before he leaned back in his chair. Was he serious? “You're gonna have to make it four weeks and then we'll revisit after that to see if we need you to stay on longer.”

“No. I'm giving you two weeks,” you reiterated, your tone unwavering. You wouldn’t let Sean bully you into staying longer, even as guilt crept up since the place was short-staffed. “That's standard and I can't do more than that. I'm sorry.”

“Oh, no. I'm still in charge and you'll give me four weeks. That’s final,” he argued, waving his hand dismissively as you shrank a bit in your chair. “Unless you have anything else to add, I’ll see you next shift.”

You clasped your hands in your lap to keep from shaking. You didn't expect him to react this way. “No, that’s not final. I can't give you four weeks,” you said as calmly as possible, even as you began to feel more uncomfortable. “I would if I could, but I can't. I’m sorry.”

“Can't or won't?” Sean asked, almost making you jump as he raised his voice. “Listen here, you've been a solid employee and I'm not going to lose you in two weeks or four weeks. Do you understand? And if you don't show up you can forget about ever getting a good recommendation from me. Might as well kiss that ‘opportunity’ of yours goodbye.”

Your eyes burned as your mind flashed back to when you were told you were laid off from your previous job, the compassionate tone of your old boss the opposite of the man in front of you. The situations were different, but both made you feel so small. Especially since Sean was essentially threatening your future endeavors. You refused to cry though.

He wouldn’t witness your tears.

You cleared your throat and maintained your resolve. “Two weeks, Sean. That’s it. I said I’m willing to work as many shifts as I can over the next two weeks, but I can't do more than that. I won’t,” you firmly spoke as his eyes widened. “I really don't want to end this on a bad note, please.”

He pushed himself to his feet as he thrust a finger toward your face as if it would somehow make him appear intimidating to tower over you. It wouldn’t sway you. “Listen here, you little-”

“Is everything okay?”

Andy’s voice made both of you jump as you spun in your chair. He stood in the doorway but didn’t look your way. He trained his gaze on your boss, his normally bright eyes narrow and cold.

Your boss must’ve felt malice in that stare since he sat down immediately. “Oh. Mr. Barber,” he said. Did he know him as a regular customer or merely recognize his status? “It’s just an issue with an employee. This doesn’t concern you.”

“There is no issue,” you corrected him.

“Actually, she’s with me, so it does concern me,” Andy spoke as he took a step into the office, staring your boss down with a clenched jaw. The space no longer felt like Sean’s. It was as if Andy owned it along with everything in it. “If you want to raise your voice at someone, I’m right here. You won’t speak to her that way though. Do you understand?”

The deep timbre almost knocked the air out of your lungs, your heart pounding from Andy defending you.

Sean coughed a bit as color filled his cheeks. He should be embarrassed. “I didn’t realize she was with you. I wouldn’t have…” he trailed off.

Your blood simmered. He wouldn’t have raised his voice at you if he knew you were with Andy. Was this a taste of what things were going to be like? How people were going to treat you moving forward?

“Who she’s with shouldn’t matter. Not to mention, your customers and employees could hear you since your door was open,” Andy added, disappointment thickly laced in his voice. “You said she was a solid employee. Why would you speak to her like that?”

Sean’s eyes flickered to you as you waited for an answer. “We’ve been short-staffed and I’ve been stressing over it. That’s no excuse. I'm sorry,” he said to Andy, making your blood go from simmering to boiling. A customer, a powerful man, got the apology, but not you. “Won’t happen again.”

“Maybe remind yourself to be kind to the people who work for you before you raise your voice again. They’re the ones who keep your business running,” Andy said.

With a hang of his head, your boss sighed. “Two weeks, huh?” He asked, the wind completely out of his sails as you nodded. “Okay. Two weeks it is.”

“Thanks,” you whispered before Andy walked over and held out his hand to help you to your feet. Luckily, you didn’t tremble as you took it and gave it a small squeeze. It was nice that he was on your side.

“And one more thing?” Andy added as Sean glanced up. “I’m not the one you should apologize to.”

You held up your other hand when Sean looked your way and opened his mouth. “No. The only reason you’re going to say you’re sorry is because he’s here,” you stated, looking at Andy momentarily. He responded with an encouraging smile. “And I don’t want an empty apology. You can keep it.”

It was nice that Andy wanted an apology on your behalf, but it wouldn't feel believable.

Sean’s face fell, but he didn’t argue. Up until today, he treated you decently. The pressures of running a business were tough, but he had no reason to take it out on you. At the same time, you felt bad for him.

“But thank you, Sean. You gave me a job when I needed one and I won’t forget that,” you added gently. “I’ll see you next shift.”

“Why don't I meet you outside? I just want one more quick word with your boss,” Andy said as Sean audibly swallowed.

Uh-oh.

“Sure,” you said, the knots in your gut unraveling as you left the two of them alone.

You exhaled as you walked back into the dining area, avoiding the gazes from a few of the customers. Your hand shook as you gave Casey a small wave. At least she didn’t look upset with you.

“Quitting, huh? Lucky duck,” she smiled sadly. “You okay? He had no right speaking to you like that.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you nodded, taking another breath. You didn't like anyone raising their voice at you, but you wouldn't allow yourself to dwell on it and didn’t need her to worry. All you could do was make the transition as smooth as possible over the next two weeks. “Didn't expect that kind of reaction. Didn’t expect anyone out here to hear it.”

“Sean’s voice carries and he’s probably just pissed that he’s losing another good one while he’s stuck here,” she guessed, glancing over her shoulder before she added in a whisper, “Oh, and that guy you’re with? He looked furious when he heard him.”

“He did?” You asked, an almost goofy smile appearing on your face.

“Yeah, he did. He had fire in his eyes. Put a bill down, got to his feet, and immediately walked back there. And I wasn’t about to stop him,” she said, her smile widening as she leaned on the counter. “I’d say he’s smitten.”

Your heart skipped a beat. First Estelle, now Casey. Though the latter had no clue about the arrangement. “He’s really something, isn't he?”

“Oh, yeah,” Casey said, straightening up when the employee door swung open.

Andy’s eyes landed on you as he walked through, his eyes soft again as he held out his hand. He also looked pleased with himself. “Ready?”

“Ready,” you said, taking it as you gave Casey a nod. “I’ll see you soon. Hope the rest of your shift is okay.”

“Me, too. See ya,” she said before she went back to assisting other customers.

“You okay?” Andy asked softly as he led you outside.

“I’m fine,” you promised, not wanting him to worry either or get upset. “But what did you say to Sean?”

“Nothing for you to worry about,” he answered, shaking his head. “Listen, I’m sorry if I overstepped by intervening. I just couldn’t let him talk to you like that.”

He easily deflected your question and you decided to let him have that victory for now.

You went in for a hug but kept space for him to breathe. He wrapped his arms tightly around you before you could pull away, your body melting into his. The bustling city around you faded as you focused on the warmth of his firm body. It made you forget all about Sean’s reaction.

“I’m glad you did,” you said, stepping back with a tiny smile. It meant the world that he defended you. “I tried to hold my own.”

“You did. You could've snapped back or walked out, but you didn't. That’s commendable and powerful,” he assured you, his gaze serious. “But I don't care if it’s your boss or a stranger or your best friend, I’m not about to let someone take their frustrations out on you.”

Warmth settled in your chest. You learned something else about Andy today: He truly wouldn't tolerate anyone disrespecting you. He continued to prove that he was a man of his word.

You also experienced firsthand how things worked in his world, how people would bend toward his will. If it was a test, you wouldn’t say you failed since you stood up for yourself. It wouldn’t always be that easy. Whether someone questioned your motives or place with Andy or not, you had to learn to grow a thick skin. Not just for your own benefit, but Andy’s, too.

He needed someone strong by his side.

“Thank you, Andy.”

“And, listen, if you don’t want to work those shifts or if he gives you a hard time-”

“I’ll be fine,” you promised. You doubted Sean would make it a hostile work environment, but you could handle it if there were any issues. “But I think I’d like to go home now.”

Andy blinked and gave you a single nod. “Sure. If that’s what you want.”

Is he disappointed at the thought of me ending the day right now?

You smiled as you tugged him in the direction of his car. “I’d also like you to see my place,” you said, his eyebrows shooting up. It surprised you that you offered, too. “It isn't much, but it’s comfortable. Maybe we can order takeout?”

It wasn’t exactly the ideal way to celebrate, but he shared a piece of himself on the drive over. The least you could do was let him see your apartment. And who knew where the evening would take you?

“Only if you’ll let me pay,” he smiled.

“You're not going to let me pay for anything, are you?” You smiled back.

“Not if I can help it,” he replied, opening the car door. “Let's get you home, honey.”

We all need a man like Andy. And what's going to happen at the apartment? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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leclsrc · 11 months

Note

3k celeb toimeee ~_~ darting eyes with pregnant reader and best friends lily and alex please? love u mother

guessing game – ...?

Your two closest friends scramble to guess who got you knocked up.

auds here... hi love u didnt specify who u want the baby daddy to be... so i spun it into something of the sort bahaha

Alex finds the plastic positive test first, on the floor of his bathroom. On instinct, he literally screams for Lily, who rushes over to him and tells him it’s not hers, and for a minute Alex thinks oh Christ, is it mine? It’s only after Lily slaps his shoulder that they begin thinking of who might own it, thinking it’d really only belong to the only other person they love enough to let pee in their flat.

In a flurry of panic, they ransack the place trying to find you (it’s a three bedroom, so not too much ransacking is done, really) and eventually find peace when they peek into the rooftop deck and find you watching the overcast, dreary city with a blank expression on your face. You turn when you hear their footsteps on the cement, features softening instantly.

“You freaked us out,” Lily says, but she’s hugging you tight. “Alex saw it.”

“I thought it was mine for a second,” he says, earning himself another light shove. You laugh, but it doesn’t really hold with your anxiety, your anticipation, your nerves. You know, you can feel their burning questions creeping up on you, but they hold back for your sake.

“Are you okay?” Alex adds, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You sigh, shrugging.

“Sure. I’m keeping it, I guess. I’m just nervous. I haven’t even told the d—” Your voice hitches into silence, and you purse your lips. “Yeah.”

You can tell they’re absolutely dying to ask you who it is, but you don’t want to speak it aloud.

It’s just because when you do, it’ll feel so much more real. So real, so damning, once there’s a name to the mysterious figure, once they know who he is. But they’re your best friends, and just based on their eyebrows furrowing and eyes darting millimeter to millimeter, you can pick up on their inner monologues, their musings, and the theories they will no doubt share to one another over dinner or beer when you’re gone.

—

“Paul.” Lily says, tossing the stuffed bear to her boyfriend. He takes it and holds it, humming contemplatively. “Alex, it’s him. That’s the last guy she slept with, like, four weeks ago. And they did it twice I think.”

“Yeaaaaah, but. Yeesh. Paul?” He grimaces, face souring as if he’d just eaten a lemon wedge. “He was ugly.”

She laughs. “Then it means our best friend is going to have an ugly baby. Throw me the bear.”

“Oh—aha! Ahhh-ha! It can’t be Paul, she was in California last month, remember?! She had that whole work thing. And he was in Europe. Can’t make a baby over Skype, now can you.” He pumps his eyebrows and throws the bear, satisfied with his rebuttal as he watches his girlfriend stutter for her own.

“Maybe she had a one night stand with someone in California?” Lily hums. “Did you know anyone who was there last month?”

She pouts to herself, deep in thought. She’s worried for you, above all, but she can’t knock the curiosity out of herself. It seems weird that neither she or her boyfriend are even remotely able to pinpoint the guy’s identity at once, mostly because they both know you so well. Lily especially, because you’re not in the business of spilling hookup secrets to Alex (he gets wind of it via Lily instead), and she had herself convinced she’d heard almost all of it.

“No, I didn’t see anything. Lots of drivers were on off-time last month, so it was all personal trips. But if she got knocked up a bit before L.A., she did go to that gala where a few drivers were hanging out, too.” He makes grabby hands for the bear, but Lily holds it out of reach, still confused and lost in thought.

She was so sure it was Paul—he was the only guy you told her about over the last few months. Sure, there were flings, but they were terribly short-lived, and that was only because you’re not one to date for a while. “The timeline doesn’t add up, but. Okay, who was there?”

“Um. Charles, and Carlos.”

“So it might be them.”

“Yeah, but slim chance.”

Grumbling, she tosses the bear back. “You win,” she sighs. “We’ll see. I’m totally blanking.”

“So am I,” Alex responds, evidently bummed.

—

Yuki hosts birthday dinner with the people on the grid he can “tolerate,” he said, which of course started with Pierre and Nyck, seated on either side of the celebrant. Plus ones are allowed, so Alex brought Lily, too, and Yuki loves you too much to discount you from the guest list, so the three of you are sitting next to each other. Charles, and Lando occupy the last two seats.

“Remember that gala you went to last month?” Lily asks in faux-nonchalance.

“Oh, yeah. Carlos and I had way too much vodka that time, like jeeez.” You make a face of disgust.

Alex squeezes Lily’s hand so hard she has to contain a squeal. They’ve got you pinned.

—

An hour into the dinner, your eyes begin to dart back and forth, breaths leaving you in quiet little huffs, which is your easiest tell—you’re nervous. Anticipatory. Bumbling. Sometime after the collective effort of teaching Pierre how to use chopsticks and watching the wooden utensil fly away and into the restaurant’s open aquarium, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom.

Immediately, your departure sends Alex and Lily into sleuth mode again.

She extracts a pen from her purse and clicks it a few times, reviewing the facts. One, you haven’t told the dad yet, you said, which means there’s no awkward air between the two of you. Two, it’s someone on the paddock, or someone friends with someone on the paddock (the only clue you told them, and a really useless one considering how big social circles run in racing).

Its Carlos? she writes on a napkin, passing it to Alex.

DUNNO…. Maybe is the response. How bout Yuki? “What’s your birthday wish, Yukino?” Lando asks as she writes; Lily makes an attempt to look engaged but half-fails, eyes trained on her written words.

Are u crazy she scribbles. Lando?

“To travel outside of work,” Yuki says. “Be by myself, or with a friend. Taste food everywhere.” She wouldnt sleep with him if he paid her, Alex writes furiously quickly after paying the driver a long, scrutinizing glance.

“I heard of a cool place somewhere in Vietnam,” Lily chimes in to seem involved, but she doesn’t look up from her writing. Ok… so it’s not a driver?

She passes it to Alex and looks up. “They sell the best pho.”

“If you like Asian food, mate, Nobu is good, too,” Charles offers, smiling.

Alex passes the tissue, now worn thin with the writing, back. Idk. I bet it is tho. Doobius. She reads over it a few times in a cross between amusement and what she can only describe as being totally weirded out.

ITS DUBIOUS, she corrects, and for good measure she underlines the U several times. They’re losing the plot, distracted.

“I only hear the best about that place,” Nyck quips. “What Nobu did you go to?”

SORRY IM NOT AN EXPERT MISS HE

“California, in L.A.”

I dont think theres a single word spelled like that Alex

Pierre makes a curious noise. “Los Angeles? I didn’t know you went there, mate. When?”

Ok miss expert comes the funny reply.

“Last month,” Charles says.

Youre such a di

She pauses as she writes, waiting for herself to piece together why his sentence means so much. Nobu. California. L.A.

Last month.

The words register, click in her mind. In unison, Alex and Lily’s wide eyes immediately snap up to Charles’ relaxed figure, and he notices, laughing a bit nervously. No way, they’re thinking. The answer’s dropped right into their laps.

Now visibly stuffy, Charles smiles politely. “What is going on?”

“You—!” Alex raises a finger, ready to make his epiphany verbal in his fit of excitement, but at the last moment spots you walking back in, dabbing your lip gloss in place. He deflates. “Y—you, you—are a fan of sushi?!”

Charles blinks. “Um… sure.”

Lily makes a show of happiness. “That’s great!” she chirps, laughing phonily. “So great!”

Alex nods along. “So great, so great!”

You slide into your seat, smiling. “Hi. What’s so great?”

“Oh,” Lily says, laughing smugly and meeting your eyes. “Oh, you have no idea.”

#f1 #leclsrc3000 #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagines #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz imagine #f1 x reader

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forever-rogue · 26 days

Note

I’m really missing nurse!Steeb x pregnant reader lately, what have they been up to??🥺

AN | I love Nurse!Steeb and his clumsy girl! Besides being pregnant, again, things are as chaotic as always in the Harrington household! 💕

Warnings | Mild Language, Pregnant!Reader

Pairing | Nurse!Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2k

Masterlist | Steve, Main, Nurse Steve

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Guess what,” you walked into your bedroom, inadvertently scaring Steve who had been reading intently. He yelped slightly as you offered him an apologetic grin and got into bed next to him, “sorry babe. But guess what!”

“What's up?” He set his book on his night stand before reaching for your hand and lacing your fingers together.

“I'm twelve weeks today,” it took him a moment to put together what you were saying but as soon as he did, his entire face lit up, “I think its time we told people, what do you think?”

“Yes. Yes,” he agreed eagerly. He'd been wanting to tell people since the day you told him you were pregnant but also understood why you had wanted to wait, “I can't wait to tell everyone. They're going to be so excited.”

“And what about you, Steve Harrington?” You clutched his hand tightly before bringing it to your lips and pressing a kiss to his knuckles, “are you excited? Truly?”

“Of course I am,” he scoffed sweetly as you relaxed, giving him an innocent shoulder shrug, “you know you don’t ever have to question that, sweetheart. I’ve been dying to tell everyone, but I know you wanted to wait. Which totally makes sense.”

“I was just worried,” you whispered softly, “I didn’t want anything to go wrong. I’m really glad it didn’t. I’m excited too.”

“I can’t believe I’ve got you, Cami, and now another baby,” his smile stretched from ear to ear as your face lit up, “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

“What if I get weird cravings in the middle of the night?” When you were pregnant with Cami, there hadn’t been anything too crazy, but you wanted to be prepared. And you didn’t want to annoy Steve - not that you would ever be able to do such a thing, especially when you were pregnant, “what if I complain all the time? What if I can’t sleep? What if you get annoyed with me? What if Camila doesn’t want-”

“Hey,” he put a finger gently to your lips in order to tenderly cut off any more of your doubt, “I will never get tired of you. You know that. And even if all those things happen, we’ll get through them and I’ll try my best to help you. And I have a feeling that Camila will be very excited for a brother and sister.”

“How can you be sure?”

“She’s been talking about how some of her friends have little brothers and sisters that she thinks it’s really cool,” that made you feel immediately better, “trust me, she’ll be excited.”

“So we’re all excited?” you hadn’t realized a few tears had rolled down your cheeks until Steve gently wiped them away. You reached up and held his hand to your face, offering your husband a misty-eyed smile.

“We’re all excited,” he confirmed as he brushed his thumb along your cheek, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Stevie.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Mama?” Camila's small voice cut through your internal monologue as you shifted your gaze to find her watching you with a worried expression on her little face, “what's wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, my love,” you wiped the tears from your face with the sleeve of your sweater, motioning for her to come over. She padded over and crawled onto the couch next to you, “I'm just feeling a little sad.”

“Why are you feeling sad?”

“There was a commercial with a really cute dog,” you sniffled as she looked at you in confusion, “I know it doesn't make any sense. When you're pregnant your hormones go all crazy and sometimes even happy things can make you cry.”

“Oh,” she considered what you were saying before shaking her head, “I don't think I could ever do that. What's the point?”

“Well, baby, that's how Daddy and I ended up with you. And I'm pretty glad we did,” you pulled her into your lap and pressed a kiss to the top of her dark curls, “and that's how we're going to end up with your brother or sister.”

“Daddy thinks I'll get a sister,” she grinned at you, a gap toothed little smile that you adored more than anything, “what do you think?”

“I think you're getting a little brother,” you whispered softly, “but we're just going to have to wait and see.”

“How much longer?!”

“Four months…ish,” you gently touched your ever-growing belly and sighed, “sometimes babies come a little early but it should be about four months.”

“I'm excited,” she said with wide eyes filled with wonder. She hesitantly reached over and touched your belly as well, “that's cool that they're in there. Does it hurt?”

“It doesn't hurt but sometimes it doesn't feel good,” and that was putting it lightly, “but it's worth It in the end.”

“I hope so,” she nodded solemnly before sliding off the couch and walking towards the kitchen, “can I have some ice cream?”

“Camila Mae,” you slowly stood up and walked after her, “only if you promise to share!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Steven Harrington,” you pushed your sunglasses to the top of your head, raising an eyebrow at him, “my eyes are up here.”

“Baby,” he huffed, his eyes turning a pretty shade of pink. He had not so discreetly looking at your chest and your belly, “its not fair. You're so hot. Gorgeous. Sexy. Beautiful. All of it.”

“Please,” you rolled your eyes at him before gently pushing his chest, “I'm five months pregnant. I'm hardly anything but a beach ball.”

“You're gorgeous,” he insisted, settling his large hands on your waist as he pulled into him and pressed a kiss to your lips, “plus the bathing suit you're wearing? Fuckin’ killing me.”

“Steve,” you squeaked softly as your entire face warmed up, “you just like it when I'm pregnant.”

“I like you always,” he insisted sweetly, “but there is something about you being pregnant that drives me crazy. And that way everyone knows you're mine.”

“I'm all yours,” you agreed, biting the inside of your cheek, “I love you, Stevie.”

“I love you, baby,” he grinned, “so much-”

“Daddy! Mama!” Cami sounded so adorably annoyed as the two of you looked over at her. She was motioning towards the pool, clearly ready to get into the water, “stop being so gross!”

“Yeah Daddy,” you nudged him towards your daughter, “stop being so gross and hitting on Mama.”

“Stop,” he groaned softly, pressing one last kiss to your lips, “you're doing to be the death of me, I hope you know.”

“So dramatic,” you snorted in amusement, “go have fun and keep our kid from drowning!”

“And you put on plenty of sunscreen,” he insisted pointing at the bag you had packed, “join us when you're ready.”

“I will,” you smiled softly, already feeling some tears welling up. It seemed like everything made you cry these days. It was just one of the many perks of being pregnant, “go have fun. I'll keep an eye on this kid.”

You could hear Steve laughing as he went over to Camila. Her entire little face lit up as her father picked up her and threw her over his shoulder to climb into the pool. It was still crazy sometimes to think that these two people were your favorite people in the entire world.

“And you're pretty special too,” you sat down, slowly of course, on your beach chair and rubbed a hand over your belly, “I can't wait to meet you. You've got a while lot of love waiting for you, just so you know.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You groaned as you walked through the front door and closed it slowly behind you. It had been a long day, and one of the few that you had to work later into the evening. By the time you got home, the Harrington household was already quiet for the evening.

“Hi honey,” Steve was at the door and already reaching for your bag before you could even wonder where he was. You relaxed as you melted into him, gladly taking the kiss he offered you, “let me help.”

You weren’t even going to bother arguing with your husband. He set your bag down in its usual spot before taking your coat and helping you slip off your shoes. When he was done, you instantly felt better. He reached for your hand and slowly led you to the kitchen, “thanks Stevie.”

“You’ve had a long day, it’s the least I can do,” you sat down at the kitchen table and let out a large sigh, running a tired hand over your belly, “how are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling like I’m very pregnant,” you huffed with a small laugh as you watched him put together a plate of food from dinner. He caught your eye and gave you a soft smile, “I can’t believe there’s still like months of this left.”

“If it’s any consolation, I think you’re doing a fantastic job,” he set the plate down in front of you and pressed a kiss to your head before grabbing a drink from the refrigerator. He set it down next to your plate before sitting down next to you, “I don’t think I could ever do it. I mean…growing a whole human is crazy.”

“I agree,” you took a big bite of the warm, delicious food, savoring the flavor before swallowing, “and I’m the one doing it. But I know it’ll be worth it. Blob number two will be worth it, just like Cami was.”

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?” he asked with a hearty laugh, as you offered him a big smile.

“Never,” you promised, “not even if we have another kid in the future. I’m telling you, they look like blobs on the ultrasound and you can’t even say I’m wrong. I mean, you’re a nurse! You gotta admit they just look like blobs more than anything else.”

“I’m going to agree with you because you’re my wife and pregnant,” he folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair, playfully narrowing his eyes at you. You stuck your tongue out at him, “I know better than to argue with my pregnant wife. Whom I love very much.”

The sweet tone in his voice caused you to soften as you set down your fork, “I love you too, Steve. So much.”

“I know,” he gently nudged his foot with yours, “is there anything else I can do for you? Whatever you need. Bubble bath?”

“Oh, that sounds lovely,” you agreed, “I feel like even my bones are tired. They could use a good soak.”

“And then you can tell me all about your day,” he insisted as you nodded at him.

“But only if you tell me all about yours,” you replied, “and Camila’s. I’m sure the two of you got up to no good.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” and that told you enough to know that the two of them definitely got into something, “we’re practically angels.”

“Shut up,” you laughed at him, shaking your head in amusement, “that’ll be the day. But luckily, I love and want to keep you both around.”

“I want you around too,” he stood up and slowly stretched before reaching for your hands, “do you want seconds first or bath now?”

“Bath now,” you let him take your hands and help to hoist you to your feet, “dessert later?”

“Dessert - “ he paused for a moment as you raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to put together what you were actually insinuating, “oh. Oh. Y-yeah, we can do that. Definitely.”

“Come on then,” you tilted your head towards the upstairs, “how often do we get this much peace, quiet and alone time?”

“Almost never,” he agreed, “you’re right. Let’s go.”

Needless to say, things were as hectic and chaotic as ever in the Harrington household.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #nurse!steve #st #joe keery

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writefightandflightclub · 1 month

Text

Something to prove: Frankie Morales x fem!reader blurb

Read the warnings.

Summary: you’re wrong. And Frankie wants to prove it.

Genre: steam / implied smut. Teasing / sexual tension. Brat /brat tamer or Dom / sub vibes.

A/n: okay, look. Frankie is cool, calm and collected. Expect when he’s not. And I just love finding the things that flip that switch on his composure and create, specifically, a Frankie of the u n h i n g e d and f e r a l variety. (That was my initial concept and then… this defo grew somewhat darker than I’d intended, so please do read the warnings! I dunno what happened but I guess I went a bit feral too don’t look at me 🙈)

Spoilery Warnings: there are definite dub-con elements here. Frankie is not checking-in thoroughly for consent and there’s one point where his thought-process /actions outright disregards consent (it’s Frankie’s POV). In my head, reader is enthusiastically on-board for everything which happens during the fic and for what is implied off-screen, but that’s definitely not made explicit in the text or even the internal monologue as it usually would be, and Frankie doesn’t know that for sure all the time. Consider yourself warned. As well, some dumbification here, reader called “stupid girl” etc. So… it’s a slightly darker!Frankie than I would usually write or characterise rather than aiming for canon so much! Also, implied threesome (or similar) off-screen, so a smidge of Santiago x reader which I opted not to tag as it isn’t the main focus. Some dub-con from Santi too. Daddy kink warning (once). (Light) Choking. Spitting (once). Dom / Sun, Brat / brat tamer vibes. Fingering. Definite theme in the language of “it’s for your own good / I know what’s best for you” which could be triggering, and could count as coercion. Explicit.

MINORS DNI. 18+ ONLY

Gif by @santigarcia

No, the voice in Frankie’s head blares, the word defeaning - although no sound passes his lips. No. No. No!

You’re wrong.

Even as Santiago smiles smugly. Says “you got that right, sweetie.”

No.

Frankie’s jaw writhes, his hand clawing into his own thigh even as a gentle titter spreads throughout the room, passed amiably from mirth-crinkled eye to slanted mouth.

He’s not angry at you. Not exactly.

When Benny had asked, as the juvenile truth or dare game progressed, who you thought would be best in the sack, you’d had to pick someone.

It’s just that you’re wrong.

It’s him.

In his head it’s him. In his head, no-one else can give it to you the way he’s imagined making you come undone. No-one else could have you unfurling the way he’s plotted so meticulously; late at night, as he’s bucked his straining length into his own fist, wishing it was the warm, enclosing wetness of you.

You’re wrong.

He feels his pulse drum in his throat. Feels his face pinch into something angular and hard.

He rips an abrupt swig of beer from the mouth of his bottle. Abrupt like the way he wants to tear a kiss from your mouth. Sudden and harsh, showing you your mistake.

He’s not angry at you. He’s not.

He’s angry at himself; for not showing you; that you’re wrong.

He stands. “Excuse me,” he mutters gruffly, pacing to the kitchen. Opening the fridge to give some passing pretence to his exit. His broad shoulders curl in towards the cold, seeking to calm his suddenly heat-pricked skin. His shirt pulls taut over the writhing muscles in his back.

You find him like this a moment later when you enter, your sweet voice preceding the sight of you. And fuck. The contrast of your softness to the way he’s growing rigid in his jeans has his eyes fluttering closed, lashes fanning to his cheek. Has the circle of his plush lips dropping open as a pulse of need zips along his aching shaft.

No. No. No.

You’re so wrong.

And, for some reason, the thought of correcting your mistake, by setting the record straight himself? It has him coming undone.

“The boys are so easy to please, huh?” you breeze, apparently completely unaware of his predicament. Of the blood rushing in his ears so hard he can barely even hear your voice. Unless… did he imagine that teasing, provocative edge in your tone?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

Frankie is fixed in place now. Rigid and imposing. Breaths mildly ragged; frayed at the edges. He hears you hop your ass up onto the counter with a breathy little - and seemingly deliberate - mmhmph. Knows that’s where you’re at, because that’s where you usually sit. That’s your spot when Santiago is cooking, all of the squad gathered around the kitchen island. That’s when Frankie usually leans his long frame against the wall right by you. Drinks in the way your thighs swell - full and soft- as they press into the counter. Imagines slipping his broad hands on to your knees. Sliding the flat of his palms up to part your warm, supple thighs. Slipping his fingers beneath the hem of your tantalising dress until they can spear your heat.

“Santiago’s” -Frankie juts his chin and curls his lip as you say his name- “so fucking needy.”

The word needy falling from your lips does something to him. Sends a throb of heat and dull ache to his length.

You have no idea how needy he is.

How needy he has been for you.

So… No.

Not Santiago’s name in your mouth instead of his. Not fantasies of Santiago fucking you bleeding into your dreams, keeping you up at night, making you slick between your legs.

You’re wrong.

In his head you’re wrong. In his head he’s had you coming apart on his cock a thousand different times. A thousand different ways. He never leaves you anything less than sated, breathless, boneless. He’s good for you. He’s the best. He’s what you need.

You’re wrong.

A low grunt rises in his throat.

Then, finally, with effort, Frankie delicately snaps the fridge closed. Turns towards you, his usually soft gaze intense and hard. Tongue curling around his plush upper lip. It makes the tentative smile you offer drop from your face.

Frankie watches your eyes skim down his taut, long body. Imagines that he sees your pupils blowing-out. A swallow sinking in your neck as he approach you like this. Harsh. Dominant. Maybe how he should have been with you all along. Maybe you would’ve liked that better.

At least, if he had, that way you’d already know.

His pulse beats a drum in his chest. Fuck. Those thighs of yours make his arousal swell painfully in his jeans.

“You believe it?” he grits, abrupt and forceful. Something dark in him activating. Something he isn’t proud of. Something that feels primal. Hungry, after so long caged away.

Your eyes widen like prey. “Believe what?”

Frankie looks at your mouth. You don’t even know. Don’t even know what’s good for you, do you? That he’s good for you. He’s going to show you. “Don’t play dumb. You know ‘what’.”

He crosses to you. Slots his hips between your thighs. Stands over you, muscles taut and rigid. Primed; yet contained. Reaches his thumb and forefinger out to grip and lift the point of your chin; deceptively soft.

Your mouth falls open. There is a sharp intake of breath, as though his touch is electricity on your skin. You writhe yourself into the counter. Arch your chest towards him, even as your eyes widen with slight apprehension. He’s never spoken to you like that before. Has only ever been soft with you. And look where that’s gotten him. Not buried balls-deep into your cunt, that’s for sure. “F-Frankie… I…”

No. No excuses.

“He was the obvious answer.”

No.

“I had to say someone.”

No.

“I couldn’t say… I c-couldn’t say you, could I?”

“Why not?” He shoves the pad of his thumb past your lips and into your mouth before you can even answer, sliding it over your tongue. Doesn’t even care in that moment if you want it. He wants it. Needs it. But he loves how instantly you pucker your lips to suck. Loves that the hot, wet glide of your tongue obediently greets him.

An awed smile drags over his mouth as you hum around him, already becoming putty. He imagines the wet spot he could make you leave on the counter, your slit all shined for him.

“Stupid girl,” he purrs, tone dripping with condescension, his voice honey over gravel. You moan as he withdraws from your mouth. Shifts his hands to clamp down on your thighs, snaking up. “I could give it to you so much better.”

You bat your eyes at him. Toying with him, like you always do - he sees it now. “H-How am I supposed to know that? I’ve…” you bite down on your pillowy lower lip. Looks like a nice place to rest his cock while he shoves into your warm throat, he thinks. “I’ve never fucked either of you.”

Still. You should already know. You should know it’s him.

You should know you’re wrong.

Frankie’s nostrils flare. He drags the pad of his thumb along the seam of his lips. Contains the anger pulsing in him. Has half a mind to unzip his pants right here. To shove you down on the floor and to fill up that pretty mouth of yours right here. Wants to.

“But you want it, don’t you, kitten?” He’s almost certain now. Certain that he hasn’t been imagining it, all these months. The teasing. The glances. The comments. These silly little outfits you wear around him. You’ve been trying to drive him to distraction, haven’t you? Playing him and Santiago off of one another. Riling them both up. Waiting for one of them - or maybe even both of them - to snap.

He drags you to him then, abrupt, your hands flying out to steady yourself against the counter. Your heat coming to rest over the clothed, straining mass of him as he bucks his hips up, grinding up against you. You yelp and it’s a pretty, pathetic little sound. “Don’t you?” he bites off, impatient for an answer now.

You want that. You want him to take it, don’t you?

All you can respond with is a loose, breathy affirmative as Frankie clamps his hand around your jaw and throat. He feels your heartbeat fluttering in your neck. It feels - to him - like want thrumming beneath your skin. Raw and red.

He dips his mouth towards the shell of your ear next, the scent of your perfume sending him into even more of a frenzy. “Did anyone ever tell you you should be careful what you wish for?”

He grips you harder, and your eyes flash with momentary apprehension as his grip closes over your throat. In the next moment however, your gaze is muddied by a glassy, blooming contentedness. A rising hunger. He jostles your head and you move with it, already pliant for him. It’s almost as though this is what you’ve been waiting for. Baiting him to snap. Baiting him to show you what he’s capable of.

Stupid girl.

How have you managed without him all this time? You need him. Need him just like he needs you. Need him to show you.

“Open your mouth.”

“What?”

“Open it.”

You oblige, showing him your pretty pink tongue, and a groan unspools from his chest at how pretty you look like this. Then, without warning, Frankie spits into your mouth.

You jump slightly from the suddenness of it, though once you realise what’s happened, you appear to relish it. Swallow it down and look at him with an altogether wolfish grin.

“Mmm. Thank you, Daddy.”

Such a fucking tease. His cock is so hard in his pants now, his arousal throbbing against the thick, constricting seam. In need of release. In need of that little wet cunt of yours, like he’s imagined a thousand times.

Well, thanks to your little games, he’s done imagining.

“Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

Frankie grabs your hand. Tugs you down from the counter and back through the house.

“We’re leaving,” he announces to the remaining squad, paying their confused and concerned enquiries little mind. Then, he directs his next words only to Santiago. “You are too.”

The other man blinks in confusion. “Whu-“

When he responds, Frankie’s tone and his demeanour leave zero room for argument - he makes sure of it, the sounds carved sharp on the knife edge of his clenched teeth. “-Now.”

Santiago obliges rightaway. “Uh huh.”

“Hey. Big fella. What are we doing?” he asks as Frankie leads you hurriedly towards his truck, stalking down the gravel drive.

“Her.”

Frankie glances at Santiago in time to catch his thick eyebrows raise in surprise; but to his credit he only skips one pace before falling right back in step with him. “Oh. We are, huh?” Santiago looks to you. He looks hungry too. “Did you know about this, Princess?”

Frankie answers for you. “She knows exactly what she’s doing. And now, thanks to her, I’ve got something to prove.”

“Oh oh, Princesa,” Santiago purrs, a smug smirk claiming his mouth.

“Oh oh?” you ask with trepidation, as Frankie bundles you into the passenger seat of the car, clipping your seatbelt for you like you can’t do it for yourself. His eyes are consumed with fire as they meet yours, his tongue darting out along his lips. God, he could have you right here. Certainly doesn’t relish the waiting.

“Yeah,” Santiago breezes, slotting into the back. Frankie exchanges a dark, conspiratorial glance with Santiago in the wing mirror, before watching his buddy lean around the shoulder of your seat. “Honey. You’ve got no idea what you’re in for, do you?”

You’re wrong.

You’re so wrong. And Frankie’s gonna show you. Over and over.

“Get her ready, would you?” Frankie pipes up, not even dragging his eyes away from the road for a second. Even so, he hears you gasp and then moan in pleasure as Santiago’s nimble fingers peel the hem of your dress away from your thighs.

“It’s for your own good, Princess. You’re gonna need it,” Santiago explains as his fingers travel, finding the wet spot between your legs. “Frankie’s big.”

“Hmm. Sure. I’ve heard that before,” you punch out, in between abortive moans of pleasure as Santiago’s fingers work their way inside you.

“Oh, it’s not a brag, honey,” Santiago snickers. Frankie joins him in laughter, like the two of them share a joke that you’re just not in on. He slides his mouth up your throat. “Trust me. It’s a kindness.”

Frankie smiles. Clamps his hands down tighter on the wheel. Can’t wait to get you home.

You’re wrong.

You’re so wrong. And he’s going to show you.

You shouldn’t push someone with a dark side if you can’t handle the consequences, he thinks.

He risks a glance as you throw your head back, mouth dropping open in a silent moan of pleasure.

You’re wrong; but he’s going to have a lot of fun proving it.

#Frankie morales x reader #Pedro pascal #triple frontier

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s-4pphics · 1 year

Note

omg i need smut for ballerina reader x tattoo artist ellie

pleaseeeee

hi hon i didn't forget ab u trust me trust me

…. but hi guys🤭 since i finished sotp and this at literally the same time why not post both.... teeeheee

wc;cw: 1.9k😳, MDNI, ellie and reader r both freaks! nasty little harlots, these two are!!, kinda exhibitionism bc car windows, weed, shotgunning(failed), mentions of daddy kink and breeding and face sitting, readers a bimbo but we knew that we love u bae :3, more monologues, cocky ellie, dirty talk, spanking, mult. orgasms and squirting, slight dumbification, titty and pussy slapping mmm, das it

… i wrote this while high soooo if there’s a typo no there’s not! bye yall :p

when ballerina!reader and tattooist!ellie fuck for the first time the world damn near melts from the inside out.

you had finally gotten into the passenger's seat of ellie’s busted up car after she wrapped up your brand-new tat. you asked her multiple times if she was going to kill you in some nearby forest after smoking you out, in which she replied with a sly maybe. it depends on how you act when it hits. her response shook you a bit: you had just scored the lead in the nutcracker and your costume was so pretty, you had to wear it at least once and then she could do whatever she wanted with you as long as she destroyed your guts beforehand! :)

your little tote bag was near your feet on the floor as you hummed along to the rap song blasting through her speakers, lightly bobbing your head. ellie’s—large and veiny and tattooed—hand had been sitting on your upper thigh for the entire ride as she drove in a relaxed position, head resting against the back of her seat. you caught glimpses of her out of the corner of your eye whenever she licked or bit her lips. her small habits made your thighs squeeze together, before she silently pried them back open with her free hand to rest it there again. you wanted her to make you cum so bad you’d pay her extra for it—

“this your place?” she rasped out in shock as she parked in front of your dance academy dorms. damn, she thought. you weren’t kidding, you’re not a stripper.

“uh huh! it’s even prettier inside! marble floors and everything, i love it here so much!” you said with an excited grin that made her smile lightly. such a cutie, she thought.

“huh,” she hummed in acknowledgment. she reached over your lap to pop open her glove box to retrieve the little ziplock baggie filled with green buds and grinder before your eyes widened in shock.

“oh are… um… are we smoking right here? like out in the open?”

“mhm.” she replied blankly before she smirked. “what, is your headmaster gonna come out and give you a spanking or something?”

you wanted her to spank you so bad—

“no! i’m just asking, i’ve never done it outside before!”

“oh yeah? you never done it outside?” she replied silkily while she packed the spoon of the pipe.

you shivered and she caught it and please fuck me right here! i don’t care who sees!—

“i never used one of those before, it’s pretty,” you nodded towards the packed bowl.

“thank you,” she said simply. “lemme show you how to do it.”

after some simple instructions that you haven't payed attention to because her hands were distracting you, you nodded absentmindedly. what the fuck was she talking about again—

“are you even listening?” she said with a raised eyebrow that had a fucking slit in it oh, ohhh you might die—

when you shook your head no, she snorted before she grabbed her lighter from your hand.

“here. watch me.”

you watched closely as she lit the crushed green buds in the bowl, finger over a little hole on the side of the pipe before she lit it and breathed in, exhaling the smoke in a circular little cloud in front of her mouth. she looked back at you with a little see? simple.

she’s so fucking sexy and you’re probably dripping all over her leather seats—

“show me again?” you squeaked out.

she only slightly nodded with a cunning grin as she looked at you before she repeated her previous actions and blew the smoke away from you, handing you the pipe again. you pushed it away from you gently.

“you’re gonna make me smoke all this by myself?”

“i want you to do it for me… like blow it… blow it in my mouth?” you said shyly. your mind was cloudy.

she didn’t say anything, but you could see the pleasant surprise on her face, releasing a light chuckle before she lit the bowl, yet again!, inhaling the smoke and holding it before she gripped for your cheeks with her slightly calloused hand, pulling you so close that your noses were touching. your mouth dropped open on instinct, and slowly exhaled the smoke into your mouth.

you could barely inhale due to the pounding in your head and your chest and your swollen fucking clit—

ellie hardly even cared about you wasting a rip that good. she slowly slipped her tongue into your already open mouth, making you whimper as you wrapped your lips around it, sucking it further into your mouth. she released a satisfied hum that rattled your throat. and speaking of your throat—

she released your cheeks, sliding her large hand down to wrap around it, squeezing the sides and gauging your reaction. you were about to call her daddy, holy fuck, you wanted her fuckin’ kids—

“c’mere.” and fuck, you jumped her bones so quick.

you were finally in her lap and you immediately started grinding on her leg like a cat in heat.

she hurriedly sat the pipe on her dashboard, her free hands quickly taken in yours, bringing them up to your tits as you felt her squeeze them, tossing your head back with a whine.

“yeah? feels fucking good?”

“yeah, yesyesyes—“

you weren’t even high and you were so close to cumming, you couldn’t imagine how crazy you’d be going if you smoked properly. you’d probably be creaming all over her seats and windows by now.

you grinded down harder on her, your clit bumping up against your lavender sweats and her jeans and toned leg and you couldn’t stop crying out and oh, you were gonna cum in your panties—

ellie must’ve sensed it because she dropped her hands from your tits to your hips, mindfully avoiding your freshly wrapped tattoo(she’s such a sweetie, isn’t she?), and pulled you down onto her leg as she lifted it up to press harder against your clit just right and you lost it.

all that tension that built over the last two hours crashed into you as you threw your head allll the back and came inside your sheer little panties. you bounced on her thigh as she held your hips to help you grind out your high. ellie slowly licked up your exposed throat to your chin to your bottom lip before she shoved her tongue into your mouth in a messy, wet kiss. fuck, you were so in love already—

“take these off, baby, c’mon, wanna see,” she said dazed against your mouth, tugging down the waistband of your bottoms. you clumsily rested your weight against her wheel as you leaned back, a loud honk! ringing through the dimly lit, empty lot. it made you both jump and laugh as she wrapped her arm around your back to move you away from it. she used the space between you to pull down your panties and sweats just enough to expose your sopping cunt. she looked like she wanted to tear you apart. she could rip you to shreds if she wanted you’d let her do anything to you—

she didn’t say anything as her thumb rubbed your clit, making you buck your hips up against her hang with a whine.

she dipped two fingers down to your slit that was practically dripping all over her seats, and she hates herself for not bringing her dick with her because, fuuuuck, she would’ve slipped right in—

you felt her fingers push inside with little resistance, her car immediately being filled with both your groans and wet noises of your cunt. your walls squeezed the shit out of her fingers to pull them in closer.

you were a mess: at some point you’d removed your sweatshirt and tee, your tits out, and she was watching you play them, entranced, until you slipped a hand down to where she was inside you, grabbing her wrist to pull out and brought her slicked up fingers to your nipples, rubbing your wetness into your stiff peaks. ellie let out a quiet groan of shiiiit! before she slapped them both, bringing her head forward to suck the wetness from your tits, moaning at the taste of you.

she dropped her hand back down to slip her fingers inside your cunt again, wiggling them around until she pressed up against that one spot that made you see god—

“yeah? right there, baby? like that?”

“ye—aaAhh, el, oh my fuckin’ god your gonna make me cum again!—“

“fuckin’ want it, nasty fucking slut, give it to me, wan’ it all over me.”

your eyes were rolled into your skull, yes im your slut i’m your slut! being the only thing on your mind. your legs were trembling and you were so. fucking. wet. and you couldn’t fucking think about anything other than her her her—

“cum on my fingers so i can take you upstairs and stick my tongue inside you.”

and you died. you’re dead now. you screamed her name out into the car as you squirted all over her arm and jeans and seats and you just kept fucking cumming and ellie swore that she was going to marry you one day!—

you finally started to come down after she slapped your pussy a couple times. your orgasm had felt like it lasted minutes and you almost plopped onto the car floor in exhaustion, but ellie caught you before you could, pulling you back to her chest to connect her mouth with yours in a heavy kiss.

she grabbed your ass in both hands before bringing her hand down in a loud slap! as you moaned in her mouth, and it made her hit you again, harder.

she allowed you to pull back to regain your composure before you said with a pout, “i have to be up at five tomorrow.” it was almost midnight.

she laughed loudly before bringing your panties and pants back up around your waist before helping you put your shirt on before easing you back into the passenger's seat. you missed her warmth already. you grabbed your tote off the floor after carefully placing the discarded pipe and lighter into a small pocket with a soft c’mon before you opened the door to get out. ellie rolled the window down so she could respond.

“wait. you want me to come inside?”

“inside me? yeah.”

she let out a choked laugh before she said, “you’re nasty as fuck, jesus christ.”

“i sure am! now come sit on my face? my roomie’s sleeping so you might have to stick my panties in your mouth just in case!” you said with the brightest grin. “you can wake up me up for rehearsals with your tongue in my pussy, too, if you want!”

oh my fucking god? ellie thought, her eyes glossing over with a hazy look on her face. yeah. i’m making her a fucking housewife.

#ballerina!reader #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams smut #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader #black!oc #black!reader #lesbian #works 𖧧࣪#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x black!reader #amitycat #tattooist!ellie ✎ ᝰ

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