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ichorai · 5 months

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button ; coriolanus snow. (m)

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; what did make him pause, however, was the very top button of your shirt. misshaped. odd. not matching the rest of your buttons. his gift to you. “you’re wearing it,” coriolanus whispered. his voice sounded strained.

words ; 3.4k

themes ; fluff, mild angst, smut

warnings / includes ; unprotected sex (not very explicit), possessiveness, themes of classism, we meet reader's rich parents !! and grandma'am and tigris appear, coryo's paranoia, he's not exactly toxic yet but the seeds are very much planted, i tried to keep him in character as best i could </3

a/n ; there will be a third part loosely following the events of the movie (obv tweaked for the fic!)

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Your home was the very definition of old money—wealth and grace and high status carved into the marble floors, hung up in the large oil paintings, found within the fibers of the expensive carpets leading into grand halls. Snow had to consciously remind himself to appear unphased. He had this sort of life, too, as far as you were concerned.

It was only expected, especially considering your parents’ high positions: with your father being the top admiral of the navy, and your mother a renowned physicist with several awards under her belt. Dozens of rows of medals and framed certifications from both your parents were more than enough for Snow to gauge the mass of their importance.

He shifted the weight of his feet in his too-tight shoes. Anxious. He wore his dress shirt again, though not before asking Tigris to try and rework the buttons. The buttons hewn from his bathroom tiles. Make them look the same, he had told her. They’re uneven. Snow turned away before he could see her mildly crestfallen expression.

It was a special occasion, hence his dressed-up attire. There was a rose pinned to his waistcoat, a deep shade of red, from his Grandma’am’s rooftop garden. Your father had come home today, after months of military work in the districts. And to celebrate such a momentous evening, you invited him to dinner.

To meet your parents. How utterly fraught.

Though, now that the two of you were officially together (albeit only recently—Sejanus asked if the two of you were a thing and Coryo replied with an instinctive, possessive yes, much to both of your surprise), Coriolanus supposed there was no use in delaying the inevitable.

“Don’t be nervous,” you told him, arm looped around his. The white rose he’d given you upon his arrival was tucked neatly behind your ear, a lovely contrast to your all-black garb. In a light-hearted tone, you added, “Father would be able to smell it on you. The fear.”

Coriolanus shot you an exasperated glance, to which you only smiled. You landed a soft, reassuring kiss onto his cheek, hand sliding down from his elbow to lace with his.

“You look… breathtaking,” he said, lifting your conjoined palms to brush his lips over your knuckles. Of the many lies that he told you, this certainly wasn’t one of them.

Your eyes gleamed with the light from the chandelier hanging above you.

“And you look handsome as ever.” A pause. You seemed bashful all of a sudden, averting your gaze to the gold patterns on the marble floors. “I know this is all very new, so I apologize in advance, if my father asks about our, uhm… our future… He’s a very forward man.”

A smile twitched at the corner of his lips and he slotted his free hand beneath your chin, the pad of his thumb pressing lightly over the side of your throat, forcing you to look back at him. “I have no intention of letting you go, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You smiled again, all sunlight and warmth, and Coriolanus couldn’t help but steal it away with one last kiss.

“Ready?” you asked, jerking your head in the direction of the dining room.

Snow swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

Dinner was quite a pleasant affair. The food was better than anything the academy ever served—Coriolanus wondered how you could willingly go from eating such delicacies at home to basic, run-of-the-mill meals the cafeteria provided. There were courses, tender peppered steaks (his very favorite), rich mushroom soups, iced lemon cakes, and several sorts of breads and butters were offered all throughout.

Your mother was a delight, enchanting him with stories of laboratory mishaps and her dangerous adventures with radioactive material. You looked a lot like her, he realized.

Your father, on the other hand, was pressing at first, grilling Coriolanus with dozens of personal questions. If you hadn’t warned him beforehand that he was a military leader, he most definitely would’ve worked it out for himself then. There were times where you politely but forcefully snapped at him, telling him to lay off the invasive interrogation and to let the poor man eat. But Coriolanus really didn’t mind—he’d spent hours upon hours preparing himself for this. He answered all of the questions with effortless ease.

By the third course, your father was satisfied. Reluctant, but satisfied. By the fourth, he was already asking about marriage, much to your mortification. Coriolanus smiled down at his plate, and quietly listened to you lecture your father about privacy and civility.

Yes, dinner was quite enjoyable. Several containers of food from unseen servants were wrapped up for him to take home, at your request, despite his polite protests. It wasn’t a common thing to do in the capitol, but your parents hadn’t batted an eye.

He was safe. They didn’t know. It was an ongoing mantra the entire night.

He was shown out the door by your father, who clapped a large hand on his shoulder and told him to take care of you, especially while he was gone. Your mother kissed him once on each cheek as farewell, and you did the same, though your kisses strayed far closer to his lips. He caught the mischievous gleam in your eyes.

The door shut behind him once he strode into the expansive courtyard in front of your mansion of a home. He glanced down at the rose pinned to his coat, wondering if you were still wearing yours behind your ear. A minute later, he jumped out of his reverie when the entrance creaked open once more. You peeked your head back out, eyes alight, pleased to see that he was still there.

You slid out from the entryway and made your way to him with quick strides, wasting no time to rest your hands upon his chest. To his delight, you were still wearing the rose. “Father and mother left to watch television in the estate’s Northern wing. Didn’t want to kiss you in front of them.”

There were wings to your house? Coriolanus blinked at you, accidentally letting his indifferent mask slip for a few seconds. If you noticed, you didn’t say anything about it, leaning forward to kiss him sweetly. It took him another moment to gather his wits, before winding his arms about your waist and deepening the kiss, nearly bending you backwards with his vigor.

He could never tire of this, he thought, fingers curling so his nails dug into the expensive black fabric of your top. Kissing you, touching you, entertaining the notion that you were his, and only his.

When you pulled away, your lips were wonderfully kiss-swollen and your pupils were blown wide, to his amusement. Were his eyes just the same?

“Thank you for being here today,” you mumbled, that smile-frown he was so fond of gracing your features once more. “I’m sorry if my parents were too—”

“They were wonderful. You’re wonderful,” he interrupted, tone soft. His hand lifted from your waist to cup your face. Cold fingers against flushed skin. “I’ll see you at the academy?”

A nod, a grin, and a relieved sigh. “Sleep well, Coryo.”

“You, too.” He pulled away, reluctant, allowing his hands to fall back to his sides. “You look good with it, you know. The rose.” With a final nod, he turned on his heel and walked away from your estate, back to his own cold penthouse, where he had to burn newspaper scraps to keep warm.

The months drew by like a lazy stream of water, gliding over a bed of stones, languid and pleasant. Your time with Coriolanus was nothing short of utter bliss. He was a sweet lover, despite his possessive streaks, always making sure you were alright with what he was doing. The two of you went slow and steady, always asking, always gentle. He kissed you as if you were made of sugar glass, and you held onto him as if he was a fragile ceramic vase.

Exams were drawing nearer with each passing day, and the two of you found yourself studying and cramming more than anything. He would often tell you that there was no need for you to study so hard, especially when you were already at the very top, likely to claim the Plinth prize for yourself, but you always waved him away with a modest laugh. If the two of you weren’t at the library pouring over dozens upon dozens of books, you were finding ways to sneak him into your home: kissing behind stone statues in the gardens, hiding behind velvet curtains, pulling him onto your massive, four-poster bed.

It was only a matter of time until you asked.

His arm was draped over your bare midriff, drawing mindless shapes into your hip. Your head rested back against his chest, mildly sweaty from the lovemaking session the two of you were still dwindling down from. You stared out your window, watching the sun slowly bleed the sky a hazy clementine hue, teeth sinking down into the flesh of your bottom lip in thought.

“Why haven’t we ever studied at your home, Coryo?” you asked. “I’ve yet to meet your cousin. You talk about her a lot… she seems wonderful.”

You felt a cold breath billow over the back of your neck. It sent pleasant chills spider down your spinal column. And you could’ve imagined it, but his fingers seemed to flex over your bare flesh. Twitch. Almost antsy. Did your question make him uncomfortable?

Shifting in his grasp, you turned within his arms so you could face him. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to pressure you, or anything. I just… just know that I’d never judge you.”

His expression was near unreadable, the blue of his eyes even paler than usual with the sunset’s light casting a honey-glow over both of your sprawled-out forms. He kissed you again, hungrily, almost as if to distract you. You let him.

Kiss you, touch you, bruise you. Any of it, all of it.

A low groan barreled within his chest when you fisted a handful of his soft blonde waves at the base of his neck, gently tugging.

“Nothing you could show me would make me love you any less,” you muttered against his lips, nose nudging against his. “Nothing, Coryo.”

And he, in a moment of love-addled weakness, let himself believe you.

Come the next afternoon, you were at the door of the Snows’ penthouse, a basketed batch of warm cookies held in one hand, the other holding a heavy bag full of all your textbooks to study. If the two of you were going to study at all today. Your mother was aghast that you were about to visit his home without some sort of gift, and abruptly shoved the basket of goodies into your arms out of seemingly nowhere, as if materialized out of thin air.

“Coriolanus loves the chocolate chip ones,” she harrumphed whilst ushering you out the door. “Honestly, showing up to someone else’s home empty-handed? Who raised you?”

The irony was not lost on either of you, and you barked out a laugh before kissing her farewell and setting off to visit him.

You rang the rusted doorbell once—curiously regarding the little button once you realized that it was broken. Then, you knocked the door twice, then another two times for good measure. There was a muffled scuffling behind the door, a woman’s voice echoing from behind.

And when it swung open, you were met with an elderly woman, shrouded in a too-large, black tunic with embroidered flowers on the sleeves, the threads loose and pulled, the once-vibrant colors faded. She wore a turban, covering most of her white hair save for the few thin tendrils framing the sides of her face.

“Hello, I’m Coriolanus’ classmate,” you greeted, in an ever-so-capitol-esque manner. “You must be his… Grandma’am?”

She appeared confused for a moment, before slow sparks of recognition fired across her blue eyes. Coriolanus had the same eyes, you noted.

“Oh!” she crooned. “Oh, dear me! Coriolanus! It’s your lovely friend!”

There was a bit of commotion down the hall. The brief moment of pause allowed you to finally take in why Coriolanus hadn’t wanted you to come to his home all this time. The penthouse was still quite lavish, as the Snow estate was one of the most expensive properties in the capitol, but it was clear that the space was diminishing with the weight of its upkeep—flickering lights, dusty floors, tears in the wallpapers, mold on the countertops…

Your attention was drawn away from the view when Tigris and Coryo emerged from the same room, and you couldn’t help the smile that threatened to break across your features. His cousin was fretting over his lopsided curls, and he discreetly tried to duck out of her way to get to you.

“My, you are just as gorgeous as he said you were!” Grandma’am said in a pitching tone, wrangling your attention back to her. She lifted her hands to lightly pinch at your cheeks. “Yes, you’ll do just fine.” Her fingers fell away and she scuttled off, murmuring something about the Capitol’s First Partner—

Coriolanus breathed out your name and his hand was on your shoulder, apologizing once, twice, three times (what was he even apologizing for?), before Tigris popped up by his side, bumping him out of the way so she could shake your hand vigorously.

“Hi! I’m Tigris—it’s so nice to finally meet you!”

You shook the blonde woman’s hand, smile seeming to grow impossibly wider. “It’s nice to meet you, too! I love your dress.”

Her mouth dropped open in a flustered manner and a lovely rose shade dusted over her cheekbones. “Oh, this old thing?” She absentmindedly smoothed a hand down the frills of her pink dress. “Yeah, I… oh, it’s nothing, really, I just made it myself.”

“That’s incredibly impressive! You must be a really talented seamstress.”

A sharp clear of his throat made your eyes snap back to Coriolanus.

“Coryo,” you greeted warmly. “I brought you cookies. Chocolate chip. Mother sends her regards.”

The two Snows in front of you eyed the basket with large eyes.

“Thank you,” he croaked, accepting the basket from your extended hands and handing it over to his cousin. “Tigris, if you’d excuse us—we’ve got some studying to do.”

Coriolanus began to tug you down the hall, and you waved back to Tigris, telling her that you’d love to see any of her other dresses later. She’d already reached into the basket and had a cookie halfway to her mouth as she nodded at you with a toothy grin.

His room was in around the same state as the rest of the home. Furniture was old, torn, frayed, or simply broken. There were several boarded-up holes in his dresser. There was a box of rat poison below his desk, which was full with all sorts of papers and stacks of yellowing books. You skittered in and dropped your heavy bag down by his bed, allowing him to close the door behind you. You just barely registered the click of a lock.

“So?” he asked, voice sounding much louder in such a confined space. He seemed tense, as if bracing himself for the worst. “Are you disgusted yet?”

“What do you take me for?” you replied easily, having already gathered why he was so afraid of bringing you here in the first place. “I’m not a leech, nor am I vain, Coriolanus. I don’t want more money, and I’m not here to offer you charity to flaunt my wealth. I thought you’d know that by now.”

He stalked closer, observing you like a wolf would its prey. “What is it you want, then?”

When you took a step back closer to his small, rather wiry bed, he would take two longer strides, crowding you back against it. He dipped forward so that his lips were only a hair’s breadth from yours, but just barely not touching.

“You know, I’m sure.”

“I do.” Coriolanus knew that you wanted him just for him, and nothing gave him more pleasure than that simple fact. His nose brushed yours.

“Would it make me a fool to stay?” you asked, the question fanning over his mouth. Inviting, ever so tantalizing. “You’re not planning on chopping me up and selling my organs for some cash, are you?”

He didn’t laugh at your little joke. Instead, he dove forward, one hand yanking your hips to his, the other winding over to the back of your head. He kissed you desperately, all teeth and tongue, hardened lips and his knee slotting between your thighs.

“No,” he susurrated thickly, as if he’d swallowed honey and soil, pressing you down until you were fully laid down over his rickety bed, back arched. “You’d be mine. All of you, just mine.”

He swallowed any sort of gasp and moan that fell from your mouth. Greedy, lustful, determined to make you pliable. His kisses didn’t slow down whatsoever when he tore himself away from your lips, freckling them down your cheeks, your jaw, your neck, your collarbones.

What did make him pause, however, was the very top button of your shirt.

Misshaped. Odd. Not matching the rest of your buttons. His gift to you.

“You’re wearing it,” Coriolanus whispered. His voice sounded strained.

“Mmh?” You glanced down at the button. “Oh. Of course, I am. I like how it looks.”

His face hovered above yours once more. His stare was so intense you began to shy away, staring at a moldy patch on the ceiling. The silence felt suffocating as you waited for him to do something. Anything.

“I love you,” he breathed out, finally. Upfront and abrupt. It wasn’t often that he said it. Maybe once or twice before, since you said it more than enough for the both of you.

You laughed then—your wonderful, wind-chime laughter. It was more out of shock than anything. He kissed you soft and sweet, momentarily quelling your chuckling. But as the afternoon of so-called ‘studying’ drew on, the laughter melded into sighs of pleasure when clothes were shed, shifting towards wanton moans of desperation when heated flesh slid against one another.

You nearly choked when his length breached your entrance, scratching faint red lines down the expanse of his back as he pushed in, pulled out. Rhythmic. Again and again and again—you couldn’t seem to get enough of him on top of you, inside of you, all around you. Your chest was pressed up against his; could he hear your heart beating through your ribs, yearning to feel his? The coil within your lower abdomen tightened. He read your every microexpression just perfectly.

He’d unbuttoned your entire shirt save for the oddly-shaped one, hands groping all over your bare skin, teeth biting down onto the patch of skin just above the button as he rocked himself into a climax, roping you down into the abyss with him. Ragged groans and broken sighs.

Coriolanus dragged his tongue up your chest and your neck, leaving a cold trail in his wake, and he sucked in a deep breath. When he pulled back to stare at you—flushed, hair mussed, sweat beaded along your hairline, his pearlescent spend between your thighs, your eyes half-lidded… chest only barely covered by his one button…

“Thank you,” he croaked, kissing the space beside your left eye. “For not running.”

“Don’t make me a fool for it,” you replied, looping your arms over Coriolanus’ neck so he could kiss you properly.

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leviismybby · 6 months

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NoRegrets!Levi fucks you because he is curious and desperate for it. It's his need as a young man to explore you, to get to know your body. He isn't that experienced but he still has you squirming beneath him when his cock is pounding you. His thrusts are sloppy and fast, his grip on your hips a little too tight but you don't mind, it feels so good, he feels so good. "Fucking....fuck.." The curses that leave his mouth are a reminder that you're making him feel like he is on cloud nine. He doesn't kiss you on the lips a lot instead he leaves marks all over your neck, it's why he loves doing you in missionary, he needs to know that you're feeling pleasure. And he will get better each time you have sex until he has learned your body fully.

Season1!Levi fucks you because he can't show his feelings for you otherwise. He is in denial, he can't love, not now when he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. Levi can't go a week without having you in his bed, he craves your body moving with his. "Good girl." He growls into your ear as he fucks you in doggy style, your legs feel like they are bout to give out, he isn't being gentle at all. You fall down onto the sheets and he slides out of you for a moment before laying on top of you, his cock penetrating you again. "Oh come on. I know my girl can take it." He bites into your shoulder as he rolls his hips against yours, loving the way you're whining for him.

Season2!Levi fucks you because he needs release. He is frustrated that he can't fight because his leg is injured, but that doesn't stop him from propping you on his office desk and sliding your panties down your legs before entering you. "Wet. I haven't even done anything, you naughty brat." He grunts his hips start moving, his cock slamming deep inside of you. "Fuck yeah. You love it when I fuck this pussy like this don't you?" Your nails dig into his shoulder when he starts to move quicker, despite his leg hurting he thrusts mercilessly into you, the desk shaking under you. He feels your pussy clamp down on him, his eyes roll back slightly before he pulls out and cums over your thighs.

Season3!Levi fucks you because he can be himself with you. Everyone is asking too much from him. He is tired of it. He kisses you on the lips, your tongue playing with his, the rough grip on your thighs makes a shiver run down your spine as he does you against the wall, your legs wrapped around him tightly. Your fingers are in his hair as you moan his name, tugging on his black hair. Pulling away from the kiss, Levi looks at your face memorizing every expression you make. His cock slodes in and out of you, the lewd noises only fire him up more. At this point he doesn't care who can hear you. In fact, it's rather indulging for him, he hasn't claimed you as his yet but you are, his and only his. "Can fuck this tight cunt all fucking day." He nibbles on your ear when you can around him but he doesn't stop. Overstimulating you until you can't talk anymore.

Season4!Levi fucks you because he wants reassurance. Your hands are pinned above your head, his fingers interlocked with yours, his warm body moving on top of you at a passionate pace. "That's it. Fuck, you feel so good." You whimper, your fingers squeezing his hand tighter, eyes rolling at the back of your head. Levi kisses your face, he is deep, and he knows that you can feel every inch of his cock. You're here, you're under him and he is so grateful for that. Releasing your hands, Levi takes a pillow and puts it under your hips to be even deeper inside of your pussy. You moan his name when he starts to slam into you so hard that the bed squeaks, your hand gripping the sheets. His hands rest on your waist, he slows down his movements to make sure that he is as deep as he can be, fucking you hard like you both need it. "Let me cum inside, baby. Shit." You nod your head and without another word, his cum fills you up to the brim.

Postwar!Levi fucks you because he can finally love you in peace. His arms are wrapped around you as you slowly move on top of him, your hips moving back and forth, pushing his cock into your depths. He isn't scared anymore to kiss you on the lips, to tell you how beautiful you look. It's done, he can finally give you all of himself and his time. "You're so fucking pretty. I don't deserve you." His hand reaches up to squeeze your breast, playing with your nipple. You lean down and kiss him, moaning against his mouth. Levi lets you do all the work and he loves it, he loves that you don't put pressure on his back. Pulling away from the kiss, your pussy clenches on his cock making him hiss. "You're gonna cum for me? Yeah?" His other hand rubs the side of your face, you squeeze his biceps and then cum on him, it doesn't take Levi long to cum after that. And you go for another round because you can and he will whisper a quiet "I love you" as you sleep next to him.

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chososdiscordkitten · 1 month

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Fight Back!

Synopsis: Play Fighting w/ the jjk men :D

Includes: 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐲𝐚, 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨, 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐚, 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 Content: a sprinkle of nsfw, no sex- just foreplay, manhandling, rough housing,

Dedicated to; this ask.

MDNI

Kento Nanami

Late at night—well after he came home from work, a few hours after dinner—he laid beside you with a book in hand.

This was always your least favorite part before bed- knowing Nanami could never focus on reading unless it was in complete silence. And silence always made your mind whirr with a million thoughts, but not wanting him to think there was something wrong; You laid next to him- scanning his expression that seemed lacking in interest.

"How's your book?" you whispered- pulling his focus and flashing his eyes over to you.

Nanami pulled one of the hands from the book and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Boring." he sighed- eyes strained from looking at the little words.

Watching him lay his eyes back onto the pages with a soft exhale. You knew once Kento had started a book- regardless of how uninteresting he was in it, he would try and finish it.

You were the playful one in the relationship, trying to create excitement. You reached for the book, pulling it from Nanami's hands and quickly looking at the little number on the bottom.

Closing it and holding it to your chest. "You're probably the only man I know who would ignore a woman in his bed for a book." you teased, watching his brow furrow with a soft smile.

"I'm not ignoring you, honey-" he scoffed with a soft smile, reaching for the book only for you to move away.

You pursed your lips, closing your eyes and making a feigned thinking noise. "Dunno- feelin' pretty ignored." you hummed, feeling his hand reach for the book again and turning away.

He rose to his knees and exhaled. "Alright, that's enough—" he smiled, his tone full of endearment.

You let out a small giggle-sitting up, and moving across the bed. Pressing your back against the sheets and watching his hands reach for it again, only for you to move away. "You want it so bad, take it from me." you giggled.

Nanami scoffed with a smile, accepting your dare. Reaching a hand out again, watching you tip onto your side with the book in hand. "Sooo close, Ken—" his words cut short as he touched your calf.

Nanami's strong hand yanked you towards him with a soft huff, looking down at you with pursed lips. "Hand it over." he demanded- trying to make his tone sound stern, only for it to come out mixed with a chuckle.

You planted your thigh beside his bent knee, his hand lightly caressing your calf, slowly raising on your leg. The book pressed against your chest, teasingly tilting your head against the bed. "I told you- Take it." egging him on as you pulled your calf from his softened grasp.

Watching his jaw clench as he hooked his hand beneath your slightly bent knee, reaching the other to the book only for you to raise it up with both hands.

Softly landing on top of you with your legs spread. One thigh pinned to the bed by Kento's forearm, the other on the side of his hip. Nanami's face looks up to your hands, giving you full access to his neck. His hips pressed against the back of your thighs with every little reach he made.

You only giggled- slightly bucking your hips up against him and pressing a kiss to his neck. "Some gentleman you are," you whispered. Releasing the book onto the bed and shoving it further on the bed with the tips of your fingers.

"Pinning a lady to the bed?" with a smile, placing your hand onto his side and humming against him.

A little laugh left his lips as he relinquished the urge to continue that book. He looked back at you and nodded his head. "It's your fault." he mumbled, planting his forearm next to your head and lightly resting his hips against you.

Looking into his eyes as he leaned down slightly, you met him halfway. "It's never my fault." you whispered, lips brushing against his with a smug smile.

He gave you his attention instead of his book. Leaving you more than pleased.

Naoya Zenin

You had noticed Naoya spending way too much time on his phone. Anytime you started talking, Naoya would pick up that stupid piece of metal and scroll mindlessly.

And instead of asking him why, you snatched the phone and ran to your bedroom. Throwing yourself onto the bed and opening it as fast as you could.

When he stepped in, he reached for the phone in your hands, only to be met with a little kick.

And with every reach Naoya made, he was met with a swat from your foot. "Give it back-" he huffed- kneeling at the foot of the bed as you scrolled through the apps.

"No way-" you grinned, "I wanna see what's more important than me." kicking off his hands and shifting away from his grasp.

That was till his hand finally got a good grip on your ankle- widening your eyes as he flipped you over. Naoya wasted no time sitting on the back of your thighs and planting his hand over your wrist.

You tried shifting from his grasp as you held his phone with a firm hand.

With clenched teeth, he leaned over to your ear, squeezing your wrist- "Give it." he gruffed against your ear.

"What are you hiding?!" you huffed with a smile against the sheets- wholly pinned down and still putting up a fight.

He only muttered a strained 'Nothing.'

With every little shift, Naoya's huffs of struggling to hold you down turned softer- his cock brushing up against your ass with every movement you shifted beneath him.

His breathing was heavy in your ear as he pressed his groin into your ass, "Are you-" you grinned, knowing that all too well the feeling jab at the swell of your bottom. Easing the grip on your wrist- gaining enough strength to push him off.

Landing on the bed on his back- his cheeks flushed and eyes bordering on forming spirals from how riled up he had gotten. Only for you to straddle his thighs and scroll on his phone again. Softly grinding down onto his erection as you scrolled on his phone.

When his shaky hand tried to reach for yours- another grind met his hips, along with swatting his hand away.

By the time you had opened every app and every message he had- Naoya was a blushing mess beneath you. Whimpers spilled from his lips as you locked his phone, "There was nothing…?" you muttered- feeling his hands rest on your thighs.

His hand trying to urge your hips to move- "I told you." he breathed through clenched teeth.

Pulling your lips to the side and tossing his phone haphazardly, "I guess you did." you smiled, looking down at him and softly grinding down against him.

Choso Kamo

You had been awake for a while. You had made breakfast and got dressed for the day, but Choso was still in bed. He was too comfy and far too sleepy to even think about getting up.

From the second you got up, he had been asking you to come back to bed. It was tempting, sure. But the apartment needed some serious cleaning, and grocery shopping had to be done.

So, as you walked back into the bedroom- eager to make the bed. "Get up." you demanded, reaching for the blankets and watching Choso clutch them even harder.

"No." he muttered, turning over and ignoring your pulling hands.

You sighed, tugging the sheets even harder. "C'mon get up—I needa make the bed," you muttered. You went to the side where he was lying and lightly pushed his arm, watching Choso's eyes open and look up at you.

He opened his arms and made a space for you. "Lay with me," he muttered, watching you purse your lips and reach for the blanket again.

"It's two p.m, Cho," tugging the blanket and feeling resistance. You were about to tug again, only for his hand to wrap around your wrist and pull.

Leaving you bent over on the edge of the bed- half your body on top of his as you let out a small laugh. His arms wrapping around you and placing his face onto the crook of your neck.

Trying to pull away from him- only to be met with a strong hand holding you still. Going as far as lifting your feet from the ground and pulling with your knees on the edge of the bed.

Completely entrapped by his arms as he refused to let up.

You tried shifting from his grip- only for his arms to hold you tighter. "Let me-" you tried saying, only to be met with a small nibble against your neck. A small giggle leaving your throat at the tickle.

Choso carelessly turned over with you in his arms. He hummed softly against your skin as you eased onto the center of the bed, his arms surrounding you with a small exhale.

Holding onto you tightly and feeling your legs adjust- Shifting in his grasp only for him to hold you tightly. "Lemme get up-" you scoffed, only to be met with a hum against your skin.

"Can't hear you m'asleep." he muttered against you. The vibrations of his voice rumbling against your skin.

Lightly placing your hand onto his side and sighing, "How am I supposed to clean if you keep pullin' me back to bed every 10 minutes?" you grinned- easing into his touch and closing your eyes.

"Don't clean." he hummed, holding you tighter.

You decided to stop fighting back, resting in his arms. Knowing if you pulled away, he would reel you back in for 'a few more minutes.'

Hiromi Higuruma

Hiromi had this horrible habit of laying on top of you. He was barely changed out of his work clothes and into his pj's. And here he comes- fully prepared to let all his body weight fall onto you.

Laying on the bed, phone in hand and watching him walk in- shaking a towel on his hair and tossing it aside. You tossed your phone aside with a sigh, preparing for the full weight of the grown man before you to crush you.

You closed your eyes in a fake grimace- hearing a small laugh from his lips as he eased onto the bed.

Exhaling a dramatic sigh as he pressed his face onto your collarbone. Fully easing his full body weight onto you.

You huffed a teasing 'oof' as he snaked his hands beneath your waist. Holding you as you rested your hands onto his shoulders. Using him as a table as you scrolled on your phone again.

"I never asked- why do you do that?" you grinned, placing your hand on his damp hair and hearing him hum against your shoulder.

He smiled against your skin, "Do what?" playing coy.

Smiling teasingly, "Crush me." hearing him let out a small laugh.

"I mean, you're a grown man- knocks the air out of my lungs." you grinned.

"The day you can successfully push me off is the day I'll stop." he challenged, feeling your hand against his scalp halt its movements and place your phone to the side.

Mustering all your strength, you started shoving his limp shoulders. Earning a hearty laugh from his lips- if anything, he made his body even more limp as you scoffed.

You attempted to shift to the side. More of an effort to escape from under him rather than pushing him off.

Hiromi felt your attempts- and instead of helping, he made fake snoring sounds against your skin. Little rumbles tickling your skin, making it even harder to focus. Slightly tightening his grip on your waist as you huffed with a small smile.

Somehow managing to shift down enough to be face to face with him- "Give up yet?" he muttered, looking at your face- still full of determination.

"You're not making this any easier-" you grinned, shifting your hand down his side. Hooking your leg onto his side- planting your other hand on the bed and gathering all the strength you could.

Inhaling a sharp breath as you turned yourself over, taking him with you. Leaving you on top and his hips straddled between your thighs.

Breathing heavily and looking down at him- his cheeks blushed with wide eyes. Confused as to where he was or how he ended on his back.

Though Hiromi was taller- he wasn't the heaviest to flip over.

You looked down at him as you straightened your back. "I win," you huffed, looking at the man who looked at you with furrowed eyebrows.

"Did you just- manhandle me?" he murmured, watching your proud expression nod 'yes.'

Hiromi pursed his lips, placing his hands on your thighs and caressing them softly. "I think I liked it."

Satoru Gojo

While playing a video game in your shared bedroom, you sat up with your knees bent to the side. Gojo sat beside you, watching your attempts to beat the stupid level.

Pursing his lips whenever you would make a move he wouldn't have- "No, you have to-"

"Shut up-" you muttered, nibbling your lip in concentration as he sighed.

"Ohmygod-" you winced, watching the little character on the TV die. Muttering a soft "Fuck." as Satoru raised himself onto his knees.

"My turn." he huffed, reaching for the control only for you to pull away.

Looking at him with furrowed eyebrows- "It's your turn when I finish this level." pulling the remote from his reach.

"You've been on this level for 20 minutes!" he scoffed, reaching for the remote again and pulling it from his grasp.

You scoffed, "It's not your turn yet!" watching as he leaned over you, reaching for the remote you kept pulling away.

"Just give it- I'll win so fast-" a smug smile on his lips as your bent knees pinned onto the bed- turning your torso around as he placed a hand onto your bottom for balance.

Every little reach he made- his ground brushing against your core, simulating a position Satoru frequently put you in. "Lemme try one more time-" you huffed pulling the remote away.

That, along with the little shifts his wakening cock made against you, caused Gojo to place his hand on your hip and turn your over on all fours. Well. On your knees, one hand holding up your torso, the other holding the remote from his reach.

"N-no it's my turn." his tone more whiney and desperate. You chalked it up to Satoru being a big baby regarding silly things like this.

A soft grunt left your lips as he leaned over you again, his bulge pressing into your ass and reaching for the remote. A whimper left his lips- feeling flushed and blaming it on the struggle for that remote.

Your chest pressed against the pillow, the hand holding you up collapsed- reaching back to him and trying to swipe him away. "Get off-" you grunted- feeling his hand wrap around your wrist and pin it to the center of your back.

Softly bucking his hips onto your ass, the hand reaching for the remote losing its determination and huffing a strained whimper.

His eyebrows pinched and cheeks a rosy shade of pink. Your wrist tried shaking off his hand- but his grip was too strong.

You hadn't even acknowledged the familiar bulge pressing against your core in the struggle. You turned your head slightly on the pillows. Peering back at Gojo and wondering why he had stopped reaching for it.

Gojo's face inches away from yours as your reaching hand holding the remote rested on the edge of the bed. Becoming aware of the jabbing against your warming cunt- only for Satoru to close the small space left between your faces and desperately rut against your bottom.

Too out of breath and heart racing to think of why- his hips trying to find relief as you grunted against him.

Closing your eyes with furrowed brows, only for Gojo to reach his hand to yours- taking the remote from your light grasp and pulling away from you.

Smiling with a triumphant look on his face and letting you go. Easing away from you and resting on the other side of the bed again.

Ignoring his erection and pressing play on the control. You only looked at him with furrowed eyebrows- confused by what had just unfolded.

Toji Zenin

You stood in the kitchen with him, prepping to make some sandwiches, as your eyes caught his all-too-tight shirt.

You had been spouting about how you could take him in a fight for the past few minutes.

His hands in his pockets as he heard you- "I'm a lot stronger than I look y'know," you grinned, placing the pieces of bread onto two plates. Turning to face him with a smug look, "like-" laughing to yourself as you thought up a comparison.

"Like Mike Tyson strong." you grinned- watching the corners of his lips curl up. A small laugh left his nose- amused at your comparison.

You clenched your teeth, a low grunt leaving your lips as you punched the air- aiming for his ribs.

Toji watched amused, as you took on a fighting stance. "You'd have no chance against me." you laughed, your fist aiming up- as though you were going to uppercut him.

Watching him refuse to flinch or fight back. Allowing you to pummel his aura with a smile.

Fighting the air around him with small huffs- making a 'boom' sound every time you threw a punch.

"M'sure you could." he muttered, tone full of sarcasm and watching you keep throwing hits against the air. Taking a step back and kneeing a few inches away from his torso.

Your hands determined- aiming various punches around him as he watched you.

Toji huffed a small laugh as you angled your fist to his jaw- slowing your fist and lightly tapping his jaw, clicking your tongue as your knuckles made contact.

You smiled to yourself as you eased off your so-called 'fighting stance'. Picking up the pack of turkey slices next to him, you turned around with a scoff— "Now, I know you're scared to actually fight me," you smiled, opening the fridge and placing the small pack of deli meat back.

Scoffing, "I know you'd limp away with your ego bruised, so it's okay." closing the fridge and turning around- pleased look on your face with your eyes closed.

Blinking your eyes open and seeing Toji in front of you- taking a step forward, caging you between the refrigerator and his torso. "My ego bruised?" he smiled.

Watching that smug look on your face refuse to falter, only balling your fist into a ball and aiming another false punch at him.

But his quick hand caught your wrist- gulping softly as his grip tightened. "Fight back." he murmured with a smile, lightly tilting his head.

Watching your eyebrows furrow with a smirk, trying to pull your wrist from his hand only for it to move mere centimeters.

"C'mon." he whispered, "You can do better than that." low eyes looking back at you. Slowly coming closer to you with every word.

You furrowed your eyebrows, using your other hand for another punch, only for his other hand to catch it. Nodding his head 'no' and pulling your wrists together. Toji held them in one hand and looked at you expectantly.

You gulped lightly, watching his eyes dim. A smug smile left your lips and formed on his. Whispering, "Fight back,"with a grin, feeling your hands try to pull from his.

An idea pops into your mind. Softening your furrowed brows, lowering your eyelids, and leaning in. Pressing a light kiss onto his lips, his hand eases its grip on your wrists.

Toji didn't hesitate to kiss you back as he slowly pushed the back of your head back onto the fridge's metal.

Eagerly pressing his tongue against your bottom lip your hands released from his, placing one onto his ribcage and the other slowly trailing down to his bulge.

Keeping a ghostlike touch against his bulge- Toji's keen tongue slipping into your mouth. Completely forgetting what point he was trying to prove.

Pulling away from him and looking at his expression- puffy lips and lightly blushed cheeks. "Fight back." you whispered, smug and amused at how easy it was to get him to let you go.

(a.n) Im exhausted, need a cigarette, and cock. gn.

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dark-fics-4-you · 12 days

Note

You fake an orgasm with Rafe just wanting it to be over but he can tell and won’t let you go until you give him a real one

Faking It

Warning: noncon, somno, smut, forced sex, unprotected sex, oral (f!revieving), slapping, choking, gaslighting, forced orgasm

Your breath came out in choppy, panicked bursts when you awoke to find your boyfriend’s head buried between your legs, his tongue eagerly lapping at your clit.

The lacy camisole that you had worn to bed was bunched up over your rising and falling chest, exposing your soft breasts to the cold air of your room. Your matching panties were no doubt carelessly discarded to the floor when Rafe had pulled them off of you.

“Rafe!” You lifted your hips, bending one knee back as you tried to lightly kick him off and scoot away, still feeling confused after waking up to this, but your boyfriend’s strong arms circled around your thighs, dragging you back to him.

“Shh baby, relax,” Rafe purred, leaning back in to slide his tongue along your slick folds. When you tried to snap your legs shut, your boyfriend easily pried them open.

He ventured to your clit again, teasing the tender bud and you whined as he dragged the pleasure out of you unwillingly.

“Stop it, please!” You squirmed in his grasp, tears falling past your lashes as the bigger man held you firmly in place. Your resistance wasn’t doing anything to deter him, if anything it seemed to have the opposite effect.

You felt like you were in shock. This seemed completely unlike your boyfriend, you never could have imagined that he would do something like this to you, and your stomach turned at the fact that you could see a sick glint in his eyes every time you whined or tried hopelessly to break from his grasp.

The blond stuffed his middle finger and his ring finger into your mouth to shut you up and you sobbed, your saliva messily coating his fingers.

When he removed them, you gasped for breath, but when you felt him slide his fingers across your slick folds, you tensed beneath him entirely.

Rafe pushed two fingers into your cunt, his thumb toying with your clit. You whimpered at the feel, clenching around his fingers and you heard your boyfriend chuckle lowly at your reaction.

“That’s my good girl,” he cooed, studying your face as tears slide past your squeezed shut eyes. Your mouth fell open and little gasps and moans cascaded past your plump lips. You could feel the cool metal of his ring as he plunged his fingers into your messy cunt.

His fingers were pumping into you faster now and you could feel your juices dripping down the inside of your thighs.

You felt sick. Your boyfriend’s touch seemed burning hot, and every thrust of his fingers was an invasion of your body and your trust.

You just wanted it to be over, you hadn’t even wanted this in the first place. So you decided there was only one way out of this situation.

You whined and moaned, much louder than before, tensing your body and shaking beneath him as you pretended to come undone around his fingers.

Rafe slowed his movements and for just a moment, you felt a shred of relief, before it was painfully ripped away from you.

His hand connected with your cheek sharply, sending your head snapping to the side and you let out a short gasp before you were cut off when his fingers circled around your throat.

“You think I don’t know when my girlfriend is fucking faking it?” He hissed at you, and you gasped again when he started pumping his fingers into you at a relentless pace.

“Rafe-” you choked out, salty tears trailed down your flushed cheeks, and you tried to fight your way out of his grasp, but your boyfriend’s grip on your throat pinned you in place.

He stretched you out uncomfortably when he pushed a third finger in and you whined at the feel of his thumb meeting your sore clit again.

“Just for that fucking stunt you pulled, you’re gonna have to give me two real ones,” Rafe sneered, and your eyes widened in fear.

“Wait no-!” you struggled against him as he choked you harder.

“Shut the fuck up, Y/N!” He was shouting at you now, and you felt absolutely terrified of your boyfriend.

Before tonight, you never would have imagined Rafe hurting you, but the crushing strength of just one of his hands around your throat told you that you were dead wrong.

His thumb circled your clit with more pressure now and he was fucking you with his fingers in a way that was downright punishing.

You could feel the twisted pleasure building within you, and you knew that you were powerless to stop what was headed your way.

You came with a strained whimper, squeezing and gushing around Rafe’s fingers. The high of your orgasm invaded your mind and a wave of nausea hit you when you realized of how conflictingly heavenly and disturbed it made you feel.

“There you go, Y/N,” Rafe sneered above you. “Was that so fucking hard?”

You were much too out of it to respond.

So out of it that you didn’t realize Rafe was lining up his hard cock with your sore entrance until he roughly forced all of himself inside of you.

Your squeal was muffled by his hand slapping over your lips. Your boyfriend didn’t give you anytime to adjust, stuffing his thick cock deep in your cunt, tilting his hips back before filling you up again.

Rafe groaned loudly, his hand twitching around your throat as he lost himself in the speed he was fucking you at. His fingers brushed over your sensitive clit and you squeezed around his dick even tighter.

“Shit baby, doesn’t feel like you don’t want this when that cunt is pulling me in.” Rafe growled and his taunting words made you cry even more.

Your boyfriend fucked you harder, his pace and force were punishing, and his grip on your throat was tightening so much you were beginning to feel lightheaded.

The second time you came, it was unexpected, to both you and Rafe. As you squeezed his cock, pussy pulsing as your orgasm hit you in waves, Rafe’s fingers restricted your breathing even further and black spots danced at the edges of your vision.

“Fuck-” Rafe’s voice was breathy, and he groaned at the feel of your perfect pussy gripping his length as he drilled into you. “I’ve gotta fill up that pretty little cunt.”

You gasped for air against his tight hold on your throat and scratched at his arm, earning a backhanded slap that made your head spin and your vision go white for a few seconds.

“Look at me, Y/N,” Rafe ordered you, and you blinked away the fog of your mind to focus on your boyfriend’s face again.

Your teary eyes, pathetic expression, and the fresh slap mark, not to mention the humiliation written across your face, was enough to push Rafe over the edge, and he groaned as he painted your walls, emptying all of his cum into your messy cunt.

You could feel his seed dripping out of you when Rafe finally pulled out and you shuddered at the sticky sensation.

Rafe grabbed your chin and forced you to meet his gaze. He smirked down at you, drinking in every detail of the scene before him with a sick enjoyment.

“Don’t ever pull that shit with me again. Got it?”

You numbly nodded, mumbling out a timid, “yes,” when it seemed like the nod wasn’t a sufficient answer.

“Cause if you ever do, you’ll owe me five more, not just two.”

#rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron noncon #dark rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #faking it #rafe cameron somno #rafe cameron smut

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pucksandpower · 2 months

Text

Ruin You

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: you and Charles are a perfect match — he enjoys utterly ruining you and you … well, you enjoy being ruined

Warnings: 18+ content

You wake slowly, the familiar scent of his skin filling your nose as you become aware of the warm body pressed against yours. His arm is draped heavily over your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

Charles.

But how?

He wasn’t due home until tomorrow night. You smile sleepily, reveling in the feel of him, the solid weight of his body grounding you.

“Charles?” You murmur.

He makes a soft sound against your skin, his arm tightening around you. You run your fingers through his hair.

“I thought you weren’t coming home until tomorrow,” you say.

He lifts his head, eyes glinting in the dim light as he looks at you. “I wanted to surprise you.”

His voice is low and gravelly with sleep, sending a shiver down your spine. He captures your lips in a slow, deep kiss, cradling your face in his hand. You melt into him, heat pooling low in your belly. When he finally pulls back you’re breathless.

“Well consider me thoroughly surprised,” you say a little shakily.

He smiles, trailing kisses along your jaw. “I missed you. Couldn’t stand being away from you a moment longer.”

You bite your lip as his mouth finds the sensitive spot below your ear. He nips at it, drawing a gasp from you. Your fingers curl into his shirt.

“Charles …”

“Hmm?” The vibration of his voice against your skin makes you shiver.

You swallow thickly. “Don’t start something you don’t intend to finish.”

He lifts his head again, eyes dark. “Who says I don’t intend to finish it?”

Your breath hitches at the promise in his gaze. He claims your mouth again, more insistently this time. You respond eagerly, heat building as your tongues tangle. He rolls you onto your back, settling between your thighs as he deepens the kiss. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, heart hammering in your chest.

When he finally breaks away you’re gasping. His eyes rake over you possessively.

“This needs to go,” he says lowly, fingers skimming the hem of your camisole.

He doesn’t wait for a response, grasping the fabric and pulling it smoothly over your head. The cool air pebbles your bare skin and you shiver. His gaze smolders as it travels over you, making you burn.

He leans down, lips grazing your collarbone. “So beautiful …”

You sigh, tilting your head back to give him access. His mouth trails lower, tongue flicking out to taste you. He lavishes attention on your breasts, teeth and tongue teasing you until you’re writhing beneath him.

“Charles please …” you gasp out.

He lifts his head, eyes blazing. “Please what, mon ange?”

You flush under the intensity of his gaze. “I need you.”

Something dark flashes in his eyes. He moves back up your body, hand curving around your throat. Not squeezing, just holding you in place as he looks down at you.

“I know exactly what you need,” he rasps. “And I’m going to give it to you, over and over until you’re screaming my name. Until you can’t think of anything but me and the way I make you feel. I’m going to ruin you for any other man.”

Arousal floods you at his words, core aching. You reach for him desperately but he catches your wrists, pinning them to the bed.

“Be patient, mon amour.”

He rolls his hips, hardness pressing into your core through the layers of clothing still separating you. You gasp, back arching off the bed at the friction. He does it again and again, until you’re writhing and pleading beneath him. Only then does he release your hands, sitting back to remove his shirt.

Your eyes drink in the lean planes of his chest, unable to resist reaching out to trace along the firm muscle. He shudders under your touch, muscles tensing. When your hands go to the waistband of his sweatpants he grabs your wrists again, stopping you.

“Not yet,” he says roughly. “It’s my turn to touch you.”

He strips your sleep shorts and panties off in one smooth motion, baring you fully to him. You squirm under the heat of his gaze but he holds you still, fingers gently stroking along your inner thighs. He takes his time reacquainting himself with every inch of you, until you’re dripping and shaking with need.

“Please,” you sob, “I can’t take anymore.”

He relents then, shedding the last of his own clothes before covering you with his body once more. You cling to him desperately as he enters you in one long stroke, finally giving you what you need. What only he can give you.

He sets a relentless pace, driving into you again and again. The slide of his skin against yours is intoxicating, his hands and mouth roaming your writhing body greedily. He brings you to the peak over and over, pushing you higher each time before letting you fall. Your world narrows down to just the two of you, nothing existing beyond this bed, beyond the feelings he drags from your shuddering frame.

You’re sobbing his name, pleading and incoherent when he finally takes mercy on you, letting you shatter fully in his arms. Your vision goes white, body seized in rapture as you come undone around him. His thrusts grow erratic as your release triggers his own, groaning your name against your skin as he spills inside you.

You float back down slowly, clinging to each other. He presses tender kisses to your face, murmuring praise and adoration until you finally open your eyes to meet his loving gaze.

“There’s my girl,” he says softly, brushing the hair back from your face. “How do you feel?”

You give him a dazed, blissful smile. “Ruined. Just like you promised.”

He grins and kisses you sweetly. “I’ll ruin you as many times as you want. I’m all yours, for as long as you’ll have me.”

You caress his face, heart overflowing. “Forever then.”

He kisses you again, soft and deep. When he pulls back his eyes are glowing.

“Forever,” he agrees.

You curl into him, resting your head on his chest as his arms come around you. His heartbeat lulls you, his fingers trailing lazily up and down your back. Safe and sated in the circle of his embrace, you let your eyes drift closed. There’s no place you’d rather be than right here with him.

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martiniluvr · 2 months

Note

dick needs more love like hello??

facesitting with dick and he's super onto it. he's drooling. and reader's thighs are trembling and she tries to move off b/c of the overstim but he holds her down firmly and just devours her.

I also feel like he cold cum just from eating her out like that.

the squeezing of her thighs, her shuddering breath and pleas and the dirty sounds from his tongue 🫠

anon….wow. I…I need to lie down. this is sooooo canon in my dick grayson is a munch agenda like yeah. that man lives and dies by the kitty. u literally get it. wow.

18+ minors dni

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

dick grayson can barely believe he’s talked you into this, but he’s not about to complain. you’re kneeling over his face with your hands planted on the headboard, biceps trembling as you try to keep yourself upright. his strong arms are clamped around your thighs, pinning you to him as his mouth works your sensitive cunt ravenously, drawing out a shaky whine from you. you try to wriggle away, which earns a scornful laugh from between your legs. god, why did he wait so long to ask you to do this?

he pulls you in even closer, sucking your tender clit with a gravelly moan. the vibrations send a shiver over your skin, and you instinctively buck your hips again, gasping loudly. dick looks up at you, his blue irises razor-thin around his blown-out pupils; you look fucking incredible like this. he doesn’t know whether to focus on the way you taste, or how good your tits look from this angle, or the pornographic sounds you’re making; all he knows is his cock is twitching at the mere sight of you, and he’s not sure he can keep this up for long.

he feels your slick dripping down his chin and jaw as he continues licking you hungrily, your pleas for him to slow down only encouraging him further. one of his hands comes around to grope your ass, coaxing you to grind yourself against him, and you let out another cry as his tongue spreads you open. your thighs begin to shake as his movements grow more urgent, and you try to pull away from his grip. not a fucking chance, baby.

his hands lock you into place, and his pace increases yet again as he groans into your pussy, his eyes fluttering shut as he feels his release creeping up on him. you dig your nails into the headboard, whining his name in a meek plea for mercy, but to no avail; the sound of his mouth against your wetness, the needy moans coming from beneath you, his large palms on your ass—it proves all too much, and your orgasm tears through you as your arms give out. your hands brace the mattress beneath you as you shudder, your fluids leaking out onto dick’s lips as your thighs squeeze his head lightly.

the feeling of your muscles tightening around him as your wetness coats his face is all it takes for the coil in his abdomen to snap; his cock twitches as his release spurts out onto his stomach, and he whines against your pussy, his head spinning. his grip on your thighs goes slack, and you shuffle back slightly so you can look down at his glistening face. a satisfied expression is plastered on his features, and his eyes are half-lidded as he licks the remnants of your climax off his bottom lip. you try to move off him, but his arms tighten around you again, a hungry smirk on his face. what makes you think he’s finished?

#dick grayson is a munch 2: electric boogaloo #martiniluvr’s asks #dick grayson #dick grayson smut #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #nightwing #nightwing smut #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #dc comics #batman #batfam

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sttoru · 9 months

Text

“YOUR LAUGHTER IS THE SWEETEST SOUND.”

༄ sypnosis. you’re giving your boyfriend the silent treatment and he doesn’t have a clue why. thus he decides to find out in a rather special way.

༄ note. uhhh.. satoru’s been on my mind since forever and the fic ideas just keep coming so heres another one.

༄ tags. satoru x reader. female reader. just pure, tooth rotting fluff. satoru loves u sm. nicknames such as ‘sweets, babe(-y).’

��satoru. i’m counting to three.”

you stand in front of your boyfriend, hands on your hips and a frown on your face; satoru had taken your phone from you and is now holding it up out of reach.

“woah, ‘m so scared.” satoru mocks with a grin like the absolute menace he is, whistling a tune as he waits for you to do something about it.

you stood no chance since that man was above 6’3. that’s exactly what annoyed you most about the situation.

the reason he grabbed your phone from you was because you had given him the silent treatment ever since the early morning. for no apparent reason— or at least— one that satoru himself couldn’t figure out.

“satoru.” you sigh, clearly trying not to lose your temper with the guy.

“you have to tell me why you’re not talkin’ to me first.” the white-haired man shrugs nonchalantly, waving your phone back and forth in the air above.

you click your tongue and grab a pillow before throwing it at your boyfriend.

to your surprise, he lets the object hit him. it doesn’t faze him after all— he’s still steadily keeping your phone up with one hand.

satoru shakes his head and lets out a deep, over exaggerated sigh, “i would’ve given it back a looong time ago if you weren’t just so stubborn.”

that was a lie. he wouldn’t have.

the way satoru stood there with one hand in his pocket and the other hand holding up your phone way above his head, pissed you off so much more than you thought.

especially due to that little sly smirk that lingered on his face the entire time he taunted you.

“you’re extremely annoying.” you scoff.

after avoiding any close contact with your boyfriend for the entire day, you finally decide to get as close to him as possible. this was done with only one goal in mind: getting your phone back.

“got’cha.”

suddenly, you were lifted up and pinned down on the nearby couch— satoru hovering right on top of you while pinning both of your wrists above your head using one hand.

he had waited patiently for you to get close to him like that so he could pull such a cheap trick.

“now,” satoru starts, looking straight into your eyes as his warm breath slightly hits your face in the current state of close proximity, “tell me, baby.”

a second huff escapes your lips and you roll your eyes, “no can do.”

“aww— well, guess you left me no choice.” satoru sighs, his expression changing into a serious one.

he retreats from above you ever so slightly. you couldn’t see his eyes since his bangs covered them for the most part, though you could sense a certain shift in his aura.

“you have yourself to blame for this.”

his tone sounded like he wasn’t playing around either.

…

you were a second too late to react before satoru did. his hands moved at the speed of the light— landing right beneath your shirt. your eyes widened as you realised what he was doing;

satoru was going to torture the information out of you. with non-stop tickles.

“hey! s-stop!” you try to keep your expression stoic and devoid of emotion, but fail miserably at that task the moment you felt him tickling you.

“hmm? can’t hear ya.” satoru teases while his fingers kept moving quickly and repeatedly over the exposed skin under your shirt.

“you!” you try to warn the white-haired man seriously, though you burst into a fit of laughter instead.

satoru’s face lights up the moment he hears the sweet sound of your laughter. he’s grinning from ear to ear like he’s just won the best prize there was, “my baby’s so pretty when she’s smiling like this.”

neither his affectionate words nor his loving gaze had been noticed by you. the only thing you were capable of doing was laugh and try to get his hands off you.

“satoru! i swear—”

it’s like both of you were in your own worlds, focused on two entirely different things: you were trying so hard to stop your boyfriend from tickling you while he was lost in your beauty beneath him.

“tha’s not my name,” satoru pouted, increasing the intensity of his tickles.

he didn’t like it whenever you’d purposely avoid referring to him with affectionate nicknames.

you did that whenever you were upset with him and that’s why he always tries his best to not get on your nerves (keyword: tries. satoru somehow always manages to annoy you, though sometimes it’s on purpose since your reactions were adorable).

“i can’t anymore!” there’s tears welling up in your eyes due to you laughing and giggling non-stop. your stomach was also reaching its limit.

“i’ll stop if you say it,” satoru chuckles along, his blue eyes staring at you over the rims of his pitch-black lenses, “say ‘pleaaase, baby.’”

his fingers continued to ruthlessly tickle your sides while you tried to escape his grasp.

“c’mon, i know you can do it.” your boyfriend adds with a small smirk on his face.

“no way!” you shake your head while giggling uncontrollably. even in this state, you were somehow holding onto that avoidant attitude of yours.

“that’s no good, sweets.”

satoru decided to use his trump card: tickling your armpits. he’ll have you begging him to stop in no time.

as expected, you squeal and squirm around underneath the snowy-haired male, your breathing unstable due to the amount of laughter leaving your lips.

“w-wait—,” you manage to get out between giggles, “please, baby, i give up!”

satoru was content with your answer and rested his hands on either side of your body.

“wasn’t that hard, ey?”

you could see that victorious expression on his face which beamed of confidence. it made you roll your eyes.

“shut up.” you breathe out deeply as you try to regain your composure.

satoru’s thumb gently brushed your tears of joy away while he looked down at you fondly. you looked extremely precious like that; teary eyed, hair messy and a slight pout on your lips.

he doesn’t want this moment to end.

and thus he starts to act dumb.

“hmm.. what did i say again just now?” satoru scratches his head with his index finger like he was thinking deeply about something.

“nu-uh. don’t you dare.” you knew that whenever satoru feigned innocence in situations like these, chaos was going to unfold a moment later.

“that i’d stop if you said ple— eh, whatever. i don’t remember.”

satoru shrugs, that fake innocent expression turning into a mischievous one in under a split second.

before you could escape, satoru started to tickle you again. you really should’ve expected him to pull another cheap trick like that; it’s the gojo satoru after all.

“you just wait, satoru, i swear i’ll kick your ass!”

“i’d like to see you try, babe.”

your laughter fills satoru’s ears once more and it’s then that he realises for the umpteenth time how grateful he is.

he’s indebted to the heavens for granting him the chance to live at the same time as you.

at this point, satoru wasn’t even concentrated on getting information out of you. seeing you all giggly and happy like this was enough for him.

he didn’t want to pressure you too much into telling him your reason for the silent treatment earlier.

he’ll find out one way or another. just like he usually does.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #gojo x you #gojo fluff #jjk fic #banner by cafekitsune

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rafecameroninterlude · 3 months

Note

Heyy, loved the fics that u did!!

Maybe you could do one where she catches them on the act? But rafe doesn’t stop fucking the reader?

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!kook!reader

warnings: cussing, unprotected sex, sex on a desk, semi-public sex, sarah is irritated as always, dirty talk, ward catches on at the end

word count: 1.1k

a/n: this takes place a little after sarah finds out about you and rafe, i recommend reading that first <3 you could check it out here 🤍 mini series masterlist

“rafe, we can’t be in here, it’s closed off for a reason!” you whispered, trying your best to keep up with the man who currently dragged you as if you weren’t wearing heels. “looks pretty open to me,” he opened a random door, pulling you inside as you covered your mouth to keep yourself from laughing. “let me look at you.” rafe stepped back, admiring you in your midsummers dress. “do you like it?” you spinned slowly, his hands settling on your hips. “i do, you gonna let me fuck you in it?” your cheeks flushed, “i don’t know.. none of these doors have locks.”

“that hasn’t stopped us before.” rafe kissed your bare shoulders, his teeth skimming the side of your neck. you bit your lip, turning in his hold. “it hasn’t, but the entire figure eight wasn’t outside when we risked getting caught.” he ignored you, backing you into a nearby desk. “come on, no one is going to come in here. you’re telling me that even if someone were to come upstairs, they’d choose this exact room to be in?” you stood in silence, weighing out the odds in your head.

all it took was one smile before rafe bent you over the hardwood, his erection pressing against your ass. “all i could think about out there was having my way with you,” he ran a large hand up your back before fisting your hair and pulling. you moaned, rubbing your thighs together as rafe balled up your dress, delivering a smack to your backside. you sucked in a breath when rafe trailed a finger down your folds, a groan erupting from his throat. “you’re soaked. you’ve been waiting for me to fill this fucking cunt, haven’t you?” you whimpered, attempting to nod at his words.

his fingers curled around the waistband of your soft cotton underwear, pulling them down roughly as you spread your legs for him. “so good for me, so perfect. my willing whore, right?” you hummed, a shiver going down your spine when you heard the zipper of his pants come undone. once he had your underwears off, you were about to step out of your heels before he stopped you. “keep them on, i wanna see these pretty things dangling in the air while i take you.” rafe held your hips in place as he pushed himself inside of you, both of you moaning in unison.

“oh my god,” rafe loved it when your voice sounded strained, like you were doing everything to keep yourself from falling apart. you ached for him like no other, goosbumps spreading across your skin as he filled you up inch by glorious inch. just when you thought he bottomed out, he picked up your leg, pinning it down on the desk so he could delve even deeper. you squirmed, your nails digging into the hard surface beneath you. “fuck- rafe please,” you looked back, his jaw slack as he watched where you sucked him in like a vice.

he thrusted, a hiss leaving his lips when your pussy clenched around his cock. “keep doing that, and i’m gonna have you walking around this party with my cum dripping down your legs.” he smacked your ass again, making your hips buck. the idea alone had your mind spinning, your eyes fluttering shut as he leaned down, whispering in your ear. “can you feel how fucking hard you make me?” rafe kissed you, taking your bottom lip between his teeth before releasing it. he sped up, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit as you quivered in his arms.

“you feel so g-” before you could finish talking, your slurred words came to a stop, rafe’s name echoing through your ears. “rafe!” you gasped, sarah’s voice cutting through the air. “it’s sarah,” you tried to move so you could pull your dress down, but rafe only fucked you harder, your breath stuttering. “rafe she’s gonna catch us.” he covered your mouth as the door flew open, your whole body flushing at the fact that you two just got caught in the act, and it had to be sarah of all people.

“what the fuck, guys!” sarah immediately slammed the door shut, rafe’s thumb returning to your clit. your eyes widened as the man behind you smiled at your expression. “you really couldn’t wait till later?” sarah spoke from the hallway, rafe’s movements not stopping whatsoever. “dad’s been looking everywhere for you, try to find him as soon as possible.” sarah’s heels retreating down the stairs was the last thing you heard before a sob ripped through your throat, rafe’s hand finally moving from your mouth.

“is my little slut close?” the desk started hitting the wall from the force of his thrusts, the sound of skin slapping against skin making your cheeks redden. “yes, rafe please give it to me.” he groaned, his hips stuttering as he cummed inside you, his hot load filling you up. soon enough, you followed right behind him, your breath catching in your throat as you fucked yourself on his cock. rafe doubled over, his lips trailing wet kisses down your jaw. “do you think sarah will tell anyone?” you sighed, letting your leg fall from the desk. rafe pulled out, putting your underwears back on for you.

“i don’t think so, but even if she does, no one’s gonna say anything.” he shrugged, buttoning his pants as he kissed you. “i hate to be that person, but these heels are killing me.” you stepped out of the shoes in question, rafe picking them up from the floor. “wanna ditch this thing?” rafe straightened out your dress, pulling you into a kiss. “yes, please.” you followed him out the room, both of you running into ward at the bottom of the stairs. “hello, mr. cameron.” you smiled at him, rafe squeezing your hand gently as you did so. ward took one look at you and rafe, his eyes falling to where your heels hung in between rafe’s fingers.

“you know you could call me ward, dear.” you nodded, rafe glancing at you with a smile. “well the firework show is starting soon, just wanted to make sure y’all were around for that.” rafe started walking you two outside, you’re brain overthinking as always. “do you think he knows what we did?” you looked up at him. rafe shook his head, “nah, he’s just trying to look like he cares about his kids in front of his work buddies.” he shrugged.

“oh, y/n?” ward turned around, “your flower crown is crooked, sweetheart.”

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nysrage · 4 months

Note

Ok hear me out plug!Connie realizing how fat his girls ass has got during backshots

I got you boo!

you and connie had been doing this for a good minute now, him taking you out after a long day of drops, spending the evening with y’all getting full and eating out wherever the two of you wanted. Trying out your favorite spots and new ones that had caught either of your eyes recently. Putting a lil bit of weight on the both of you, which connie loved. He’d barely been able to keep his off of you as he caressed you and your curves as the two of you waited in line for the food truck. Your warm soft body had connie barely noticing the cold, and that comforting vanilla perfume would have him taking a whiff of you every couple minutes. The two of you leaving your fav spot that never let either of you down just for connie to fill you up with something else that always left you so greedy for more.

The two of you barely made into the house without full blow make out, stumbling into your apartment and tugging at each other’s clothes. Those teasing touches and kisses had been getting to you all night, especially after not seeing connie all weekend because of his busy schedule. The life as a plug consuming his life sometimes when certain functions were going on in the city, but he’d always come back to you and your annual food dates. It wasn’t long before your clothes were scattered across the wooden floor, with his thick dick splitting you open on your couch. Clutching onto the cushion for dear life as connie gave you mind blowing backshots. Heavy ass rippling like waves as you bounced off his pelvis with ease, “f-fuck mamì, ass got so fat.” fucking him back with force.

Letting you throw that ass back on him, loud clapping echoing throughout the room as you moaned out to you man. “mmm, that fat ass dick” connie watched as you taking him for yourself, slapping down at those soft brown cheeeks. “good girl, keep throwing dat ass f’me..” and you did just that, positioning yourself just right to fuck yourself on his dick. meeting his golden eyes with your lustrous ones, his hard thrust meeting you halfway as he pounded you into the cushions. stirring those gummy walls of yours as your pussy squelching between you .“s-shitt, con waitt—” pushing back at his pelvis, which he quickly slapped that hand away. pinning it behind your back and moaning into your ear. “un uh take that shit, need this ass fatter f-fuck!” delivering you short deep strokes as he watched you fall apart beneath him, cupping your face and holding you there so you could watch him work. Body growing hot and tense as your walls begin to clamp and swell, eyes rolling back as your body shook. “c-cumminggg, m’cumming pa—” voice cracking as cream oozes out of you and drips down onto the furniture. Connie stroking you through it as chased his own, spreading those cheeks to see the messy situation between them and shooting thick cum deep inside you and leaving you at your fullest.

pulling out and placing a soft kiss to your ass, “love this shit mamì..”

#nys works.ᐟ ᥫ᭡#black writers #no minors please #connie springer #aot connie #connie smut #aot connie springer #aot connie x black!reader #aot connie x black reader #connie springer smut #connie x black!reader #connie x black reader #connie springer x black reader #connie x black reader smut #connie springer x black reader smut #connie x black y/n

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somerandomdot · 7 months

Text

Random Nsfw Halsin Headcanons

Hello I’m just trying something out, if you like it or have a different opinion or would like to share yours you may. Id appreciate if you suggested kinda, anything! Thank you for reading)

Omg I love his eyes in this GIF bro, his puppy eyessss

First off, for some reason this part in my brain just screams that this man has a dry humping kink, or any kinda of just pinning in general.

BIG MAN HANDS ON ME. Sorry, okay his hands are on your waist, shoulder, honestly any part he can grab at. His hands are either on your body or in your hair. He is a handy man.

One hundred percent this man has a breeding kink, I mean obviously… as nature intended

Going back to the pinning thing, I feel like with how large this hunk of a elf is he generally wouldn’t want to use much strength being worried of hurting you.

Honestly I feel like him putting half of his weight on top of you, or pushing himself against you is already crushing enough. So he’d be rather soft and slow at first.

We already know Halsin already is a giver when it comes to head, but one thousand percent he would like the same treatment. But would not really ask for it, so you’d probably have to ask him, since he’d never expect you too, caring about your pleasure and getting off on it.

If he’s on the receiving side of head, I feel like he’d not be the whimper type at all, but just groans, heavy breathing and saying your name/praises while you work on him with your mouth.

This man cannot keep his hips still, he’d be bucking into your mouth every so often, then apologizing for it as you’d gag from the unexpected thrust.

I can imagine this man is, rather large and thick when it comes to his sizing, rather on the more thick around the tip and thinning out to the base.

I feel like he wouldn’t be into heavy kinks, unless you’d ask to try something else/share kinks your with him. I feel like he’d be more into passionate sloppy sex.

His favorite position is either picking you up while he’s standing, your legs around his waist, back against any surface or none at all and his hands on your hips or wrapped around you as he controls the momentum by either thrusting up into you or literally lifting you up and down by your hips or just bear hugging you. (Had too) Or either the classic missionary, legs over his shoulders or around his waist as he thrusts into you as you layback and enjoy it.

Halsin enjoys long sessions rather than short ones, taking his time and edging himself and you. Agonizingly slow soft thrusts to than picking up his pace and roughness for a bit then continuing onto the slow soft ones.

He’d slowdown once you announce that you’re getting close, but if he unsuccessfully edges you as you hit your climax he wouldn’t punish you. If anything he’d make the session last longer enjoying the way you twitch and shudder beneath him or against him.

Eventually when he’s done edging himself and you he’d change his pace to a slow but rough thrusting, while he praises you or either has his head pressed into you neck, occasionally bites and nibbles on your neck and shoulders.

Only time I feel like he’d actually moan or whimper is while he puts it in or while he is comes.

He has, A LOT of ‘ammunition’, honestly feel like he’d come quite a bit, three to four shots. Making a nice cream pie.

Obviously he is an amazing person with aftercare, cleaning you up, helping you get dressed and healing if necessary.

Man’s loves cuddles, no shit he’s a big teddy bear, but due to his protective instincts he’d be holding onto things while he sleep, either it be a random pillow, you or wrapping his arms around himself he always sleeps holding something.

You made it!! Thank you so much, if you have any opinions, suggestions or any advice I’d love to hear it! Enjoy the rest of your morning/afternoon/night!

#halsin #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #halsin x reader #Halsin headcanons #bg3 halsin

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gl1tteryzebra · 1 month

Note

kinda can’t stop thinking about rafe fucking me somewhere jj can see as a way to mark his territory on me 🤭🤭

anon darling it’s just like you’re tryna distract me from my responsibilities, this is so fucking hot (sorry this took so long)

you struggled to maintain balance against the slippery surface of the glass pane; one leg curled around rafe’s hip, the other acting as a wobbly support beam for the rest of your body.

shallow puffs— and on occasion, a groan —slipped past the blonde’s lips. aside from that, the only other noise reverberating throughout the dark room was a product of sarah’s so called ‘charity case party’ downstairs.

rafe’s less than affable sentiment toward the pogues was no secret, but at least when you were around it gave him something else to focus on— even if their presence still got beneath his skin. tonight was different, however. different in the sense that he was given a reason to pick a bone– and unsurprisingly, he snaffled the opportunity up like a provoked animal.

even if a kind heart resided somewhere beneath jj's signature tattered tank top, this didn't stop him from being a real pain in the ass from time to time. it started when you arrived home from country club, loud laughs floating through the front door as the group of friends congregated around the kitchen, enjoying a few beers.

rafe had been intent on dragging you upstairs as fast as your legs could carry you when the mischievous blonde made a harmless jibe at your boyfriends 'anti-social behaviour'. rafe merely rolled his eyes, continuing to trek toward the staircase... but then jj just had to bring you into it.

"hey man if you don't wanna stick 'round that's cool, but you're misses is more than welcome... gotta spot for her right here." your eyes scrunched closed as he obnoxiously patted his thighs; you knew where this was headed.

when rafe chuckled, the sound was ugly and humourless and regretfully familiar. you were forced to hold him back as his large frame lunged at jj, a brief commotion ensued– sarah and kie screaming and clawing at the boys to stop– before your boyfriend finally came to his senses (it was a suicide mission going 1 v 3).

he flung an arm over your shoulder, wiping a small blotch of blood from his nose with a snort. "i'll be lookin' out for you at the club, jj, hopefully we can continue this civil conversation then."

you were quick to coax him onward as the other blonde shouted out an equally childish response.

rafe's emotions only ranged between 0-100. he was never happy, but ecstatic, and the same went for the other side of the coin; he was never mad, but fuming. that's why when you reached his bedroom and he began the process of aggressively tearing off his clothing, you knew you were in for it.

and that was how you ended up here: splayed against the cool glass of rafe's bedroom window, exposed from your head down to your toes as his hips flick into yours ardently. the pool was just around the corner of the weatherboard plantation, and you scrunched your eyes in embarrassment, praying no one would venture so close to be able to see.

“someone’s quiet." he huffed out, lips latching onto your neck as your head falls back in a choked gasped.

"the others, they could–" your voice dwindled into an airy mewl as he angled his hips upward, hitting that one spot that scrambled you brain.

"yeah, that's the fuckin' point." his ravenous mouth latched onto your , doing everything in his power to draw you out from your shell...and it was working.

he snickered "rafe–"

"c'mon, gorgeous. this is my fuckin' house, let'em hear– it's all they'll ever get."

you knew what he was referring to, or more accurately who he was referring to. the possessiveness practically oozing from his dark gaze, those strong hands that pinned you to the spot. he groaned when you tightened around him, face falling into the crook of your neck. sensing your end, his fingers ventured down to your swollen clit. "that's it, come on my cock."

your cheeks burned as you did just that, a loud wail of his name being extracted from your raw throat. he joined you shortly after, grunting as he pulled you into a sloppy kiss. you orbs were glossed over and delirious, and he smirked, tapping your cheek. "'m gonna go shower, don't forget to go pee."

you nodded and your gaze briefly flitted to the backyard as rafe sauntered into the bathroom, widening as a flash of blonde disappeared from view.

sincerely ~ 🦓༝༚༝༚

#rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x reader #obx smut

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willowbelle · 30 days

Text

Not a Chance

Zoro & Jealousy + Possessiveness

per this request!

❤︎ roronoa zoro x fem reader ❤︎

༉‧₊˚✧ (nsfw, afab!reader, 18+ only) ༉‧₊˚✧

cw: dom! zoro, jealous zoro, very possessive zoro, semi-public sex, wall sex, arm pinning, rough sex, loud sex, lots of dirty talk (im so fr i cooked w the dirty talk on this one), "be loud, let them hear you." type :^)

summary: zoro & reader are privately dating. zoro gets very jealous when he sees law & kidd flirting with reader at a party. zoro confronts the men. zoro aims to show everyone who reader belongs to ;)

word count: ~3,200

tagging: @bby-deerling @eelnoise @3v37773 @laylaloves-ed @shamblespirate @lowkeycasanova @maddddstuff @fanaticsnail

Not a Chance

As the celebratory atmosphere envelops the aftermath of the victorious battle in Wano, you find yourself nestled in a corner of the bustling banquet hall, the glow of lanterns casting warm hues over the scene.

It's a moment of triumph, shared among allies turned friends, but for you and Roronoa Zoro, it holds an added layer of complexity.

You and Zoro had been quietly dating, your relationship concealed beneath the veil of secrecy that he prefered. His private nature means that your romance remains known only to a select few, a fact that both frustrates and intrigues you.

But in moments like these, surrounded by fellow pirates and allies, the clandestine nature of your connection is put to the test.

Zoro, with his stoic demeanor and unwavering dedication to his goals, is a man of few words when it comes to matters of the heart. Yet, beneath his tough exterior, lies a depth of emotion that he reserves solely for you.

In quiet moments, away from the prying eyes of others, he lets his guard down, revealing glimpses of vulnerability that few are privileged to witness.

For you, being with Zoro is much like navigating uncharted waters, thrilling, yet… unpredictable.

His fierce loyalty and unwavering support are constants in your life, grounding you amidst the chaos of the pirate world. And while his private nature sometimes leaves you craving more, you cherish the moments when he lets you in, when he allows himself to be vulnerable with you.

In the hidden corners of The Sunny, away from the eyes of your crewmates, you and Zoro share stolen glances and intimate moments that are reserved solely for each other.

The storage closets, nestled deep within the bowels of the ship, become your sanctuaries of intimacy. There, amidst the shadows and whispers of the vessel, you and Zoro find solace in stolen moments of closeness.

The dim light filtering through the cracks in the door paints a soft glow upon your faces as you press together in the confined space, your breath mingling in the air.

The rhythmic sound of The Sunny’s hull against the waves provides a soothing backdrop to your whispered intimacy; the thrusts of his hips, your moans against his neck. In those hidden moments, you bare your souls to each other; sharing fears, dreams, desires, and everything in between.

----

Amidst the revelry, you notice glances and subtle gestures from some of the other pirates, members of both the Heart Pirates and Kidd Pirates, their intentions not entirely innocent.

Their flirtations and insinuations don't go unnoticed, and although you remain steadfast in your commitment to Zoro, a part of you can't help but feel flattered by the attention.

As the night progresses, Zoro's demeanor shifts. His usually composed facade cracks, replaced by a simmering undercurrent of jealousy and possessiveness. You can feel his gaze burning into you from across the room, his grip tightening imperceptibly around his sake cup.

It's Law who approaches first, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he engages you in conversation, his proximity closer than necessary.

"Enjoying the festivities, y/n?" Law asks, his voice laced with playful intent.

"Absolutely," you reply, offering a polite smile, though you can't shake the sense of unease at Zoro's watchful stare.

Zoro's reaction is instantaneous, his jaw clenched as he moves to intercede, positioning himself subtly between you and Law, a silent declaration of his claim.

Next comes Killer, his playful banter veering into suggestive territory, earning a low growl of warning from Zoro.

"You're quite the charmer, aren't you?" Killer remarks, his tone teasing.

Zoro's response is a terse nod, his gaze never leaving Killer's masked face.

Even Kidd, usually brash and unbothered by such matters, can't resist throwing a teasing comment your way, only to be met with a glare sharp enough to cut through steel.

"Careful, y/n, you might give poor Zoro here a heart attack," Kidd jokes, flashing a mischievous smirk.

----

As the flirtations from the other pirates intensify, you feel a mixture of discomfort ripple through you. Seeking a moment of respite, you excuse yourself from the crowd and make your way to a quieter corner of the banquet hall where you spot Nami, your best friend and trusted crewmate, engaged in conversation with Robin.

"Nami," you greet, relief flooding your voice as you join them. "Mind if I steal you away for a moment?"

Nami turns to you with a knowing smile, her sharp eyes taking in your slightly flustered expression. "Of course, y/n," she replies, motioning for you to sit beside her.

As you settle in next to her, you can't help but vent your frustrations. "It's like they're all coming out of the woodwork tonight," you mutter, casting a glance towards where the other pirates are still making advances.

Nami's lips quirk into a sympathetic smile. "Well, you are quite the catch, aren't you?" she teases and winks, nudging you playfully with her elbow.

You can't help but chuckle at her comment, grateful for her light-hearted approach to the situation. "I suppose," you reply with a hint of self-deprecation. "But it's not like I'm interested in any of them."

Nami's expression softens, her gaze meeting yours with a look of understanding. "I know, sweetie," she says gently. "But sometimes it's nice to feel admired, even if it's from a distance."

You nod, grateful for Nami's insight. Despite the unwanted attention, her words offer a sense of validation that eases the tension coiling in your stomach. "Thanks, Nami," you say sincerely, reaching out to squeeze her hand.

"Anytime," Nami replies, returning the gesture with a reassuring smile. "Just remember, you've got Zoro watching over you like a hawk. No one stands a chance against that."

----

As the night wears on and the tensions grow, Zoro can't ignore the prickling sense of unease that gnaws at him.

His jealousy simmers just beneath the surface, a volatile mix of protectiveness and possessiveness that threatens to boil over at any moment.

And suddenly, it does; boils over, floods his skull, and pushes him to drastic measures.

Spotting Law and Kidd engaged in conversation across the room, Zoro's steps grow purposeful as he makes his way towards them, his jaw clenched with barely contained anger.

"Law, Kidd," Zoro's voice is low and menacing as he approaches, his gaze piercing through them with a ferocity that makes even the most seasoned pirates flinch.

Law and Kidd turn to face him, their expressions shifting from casual to wary as they take in Zoro's imposing figure.

"What do you want, Marimo?" Kidd retorts, his tone laced with defiance.

Zoro's eyes narrow dangerously, his temper flaring as he squares his shoulders. "I saw the way you were looking at her," he growls, his voice a low rumble that reverberates with barely contained fury.

Law raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "And what if we were?" he replies coolly, though a flicker of amusement dances in his eyes.

Zoro's grip tightens on the hilt of his swords, his knuckles whitening with the effort to restrain himself. "She's off-limits," he spits, "If you know what's good for you, you'll keep your distance."

Law and Kidd exchange a glance, a silent communication passing between them before Law finally speaks, his tone calm but tinged with a hint of amusement. "Relax, swordsman," he says, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "We were just having a friendly conversation."

But Zoro isn't appeased, his anger still simmering beneath the surface as he glares at them both. "Just remember," he warns, his voice low and dangerous. "She's mine."

As you remain seated with Nami, the conversation ebbs and flows between lighthearted banter and moments of quiet introspection. Despite the festive atmosphere surrounding you, a part of your mind remains preoccupied with the tension that seems to linger in the air, like a storm brewing on the horizon.

Nami, ever perceptive, notices the furrow in your brow and the unease that flickers in your eyes. "Is everything alright, y/n?" she asks, her voice laced with concern as she places a reassuring hand on your arm.

You offer her a small smile, grateful for her steadfast presence. "Yeah, I think so," you reply, though the uncertainty still lingers at the edges of your consciousness.

But before you can delve further into the matter, a commotion breaks out across the room, drawing your attention. You and Nami exchange a curious glance before turning to see Zoro engaged in a heated confrontation with Law and Kidd.

Concern etches itself into your features as you watch the scene unfold, the tension in the air palpable even from a distance. "What's going on?" Nami murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper as she leans in closer, her eyes fixed on the unfolding confrontation.

You shake your head, unsure of what has sparked the conflict but feeling a sense of urgency to intervene. "I'm not sure, but I think we should go check on them," you reply, already rising from your seat.

Nami nods in agreement, her expression mirroring your own concern as she follows suit. Together, you make your way through the crowd, weaving between revelers until you reach the center of the commotion.

As you approach Zoro standing with Law and Kidd, you notice the tension radiating from him like a palpable force. His jaw is clenched, his eyes narrowed with simmering anger as he exchanges words with the other pirates.

It's a side of him you haven't seen before, raw and unfiltered, publicly displaying his love for you.

"Zoro," you say softly, reaching out to touch his arm, hoping to diffuse the tension.

He glances at you, his expression still dark with irritation. "Not now," he mutters tersely, his tone leaving no room for argument.

But you aren't deterred. You know that letting his anger consume him won't solve anything. With a gentle tug on his arm, you urge him to step away from the heated exchange.

"Come on, let's go somewhere quieter," you say, your voice laced with concern.

Zoro hesitates for a moment, his gaze flickering between you and the other pirates. Then, with a resigned sigh, he nods and allows you to lead him away from the confrontation.

----

As you walk, you feel the tension slowly dissipating from Zoro's frame, replaced by a sense of calmness. With each step, the anger that had gripped him begins to fade, replaced by the warmth of your presence beside him.

Finally finding a secluded corner of the banquet hall, you turn to face Zoro, your eyes searching his for any lingering traces of anger. "Are you okay?"

But before Zoro can respond, he takes your hand in his with a determined grip, his expression unreadable yet intense. Without a word, he begins to lead you away from the crowded hall, his steps purposeful and unwavering.

Confusion mingles with curiosity as you follow him, your heart pounding with anticipation.

As you reach the door of the storage, you feel blood rush to your face. The two of you only ever go here for one thing.

Zoro turns to you, his gaze locking with yours in a silent yet powerful exchange. Without a word, he pushes open the door and pulls you inside, making your eyes adjust to the dim lighting.

With a gentle yet urgent insistence, Zoro presses you against the wall, his lips finding yours in a hungry, desperate kiss.

“Mmm!” you whimper against his lips, taken off guard by the suddenness of his advances.

There is a rawness to his touch, a primal need that leaves you breathless.

In that moment, as you lose yourselves in the heat of the moment, you realize that words are no longer necessary. Zoro's actions speak volumes, baring his emotions in a way that words never could.

As Zoro's lips trail down your neck, igniting a fiery trail of desire, you let out a low moan of pleasure.

"Fuck," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath as you arch into his touch, your hands tangling in his hair.

He groans against your flesh, causing goosebumps to bud all over your needy skin as he continues his fervent exploration.

In a sudden burst of intensity, Zoro's hands find the hem of your shirt, his fingers gripping the fabric with a primal need. With a swift motion, he tears the fabric away, baring your skin to his hungry gaze.

"Zoro-!" you gasp, a rush of adrenaline coursing through you as you feel the cool air against your exposed flesh, your heart pounding in your chest.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, a feral hunger burning within them. "I need you," he murmurs, his voice husky with longing.

“Please,” you whine, your voice a breathless plea as he trails kisses down your chest.

As Zoro's lips continue their tantalizing journey across your skin, your senses reel with desire. You allow your head to lull back, shutting your eyes and letting your mouth hang slack as you savor each and every touch.

His hardworking, calloused hands explore your body with a newfound possessiveness, and it makes you feel small; he owns you and you like it.

With trembling hands, you reach for Zoro's shirt, eager to feel the warmth of his skin against yours. With practiced ease, he shrugs off the garment, revealing the defined muscles beneath.

The sight of him, bare-chested and consumed with passion, sends a thrill coursing through you. Without hesitation, you press your body against his, reveling in the heat that radiates between you.

Lost in the heat of the moment, you abandon all inhibitions, giving in to the primal urges that drive you both. Your hands roam freely over his taut muscles, tracing the lines of his scars as you explore every inch of him.

As your fingers dance over his scars, Zoro's breath hitches, his dark eyes locking with yours in a silent exchange of desire.

"You're mine," he murmurs huskily, his voice rough with emotion.

A shiver runs down your spine at his possessive declaration, but instead of fear, it awakens something entirely different within you. "Yours," you whisper back.

With a hungry growl, Zoro captures your lips in a searing kiss, his hands gripping your waist tightly, possessively.

"Never forget it," he breathes against your skin, his lips trailing down your neck.

You arch into his touch, gasping as pleasure courses through your veins. "I won't," you promise, your words melting into a moan as he trails kisses along your collarbone.

Zoro's hands slide down to the hem of your skirt, lifting it up with a hunger that matches the intensity of his gaze. As he exposes more of your skin, his breath catches at the sight; your trembling thighs, your wet panties.

“All this?” he smirks, tsking, “All because I got a little possessive?”

“M-mhm,” you whine weakly, shaking beneath his touch.

With a low growl, Zoro grips your thigh, lifting it up to press his crotch against yours. The heat of his body sends electric currents coursing through you, and you can feel the tension building with each heartbeat.

Your hands clutch at his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscles beneath his skin as you pull him closer, craving more of his touch. "Zoro," you gasp his name, your voice a plea and a prayer all at once.

His lips find yours once more, claiming you with a hunger that leaves you dizzy with need. With each movement, each touch, you feel yourself surrendering completely to his dominance.

Zoro’s calloused fingertips trail down your body to meet your slit, making you gasp softly at the sensation.

He smirks, hooking his fingers beneath the soaked fabric and tugging it aside.

In the same breath, he tugs his pants and boxers down, just enough to remove his cock, rock-hard and throbbing in his grasp.

He leans forwards, the tip of his cock meeting your leaking slit with a gentle nudge. You suck your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle a moan, reaching around to dig your fingernails into the muscular flesh of the swordsman’s back.

“Yeah?’ he groans smugly, pressing his lips to your neck, “Ready for me?” he questions, his words hot against your flesh.

“Y-Yes, Zoro,” you plead, your tone coming out whinier than anticipated, “Please-”

“Please?” he chuckles against your skin, the dark tone of his voice causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body, “Please what?” he presses, continuing to guide his thick tip up and down your aching cunt.

You abandon all dignity, the desire for him to just fuck you already overpowering any morsel of self-respect you once contained.

“Please fuck me, Zoro,” you beg, “Show me just how much I belong to you.”

With a low, primal growl, Zoro's grip tightens on your thigh, his eyes dark with hunger as he positions himself at your entrance.

“That’s it, good girl,” he smirks.

Without another word, he thrusts into you with a force that steals your breath away, claiming you completely in a single, powerful motion.

“Zoro-!” you cry out, raking your nails down his back. The sudden bump of his tip to your cervix causes your head to grow fuzzy, and you pathetically attempt to stifle your moans with a shaky hand to your mouth.

With a devilish smirk, Zoro's thrusts intensify, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he hears your attempts to stifle your moans. He grabs your hand away from your mouth and pins it above your head,

"No," he growls, his voice low and commanding, "Let them hear you. Let them know who you belong to."

His words send a shiver down your spine, and without hesitation, you obey, letting out a loud, unabashed moan that fills the room with the sound of your pleasure. With each thrust, each gasp, you make it known to anyone within earshot that you are his.

The sensation of him filling you completely makes your limbs go numb with pleasure, igniting a fire that burns hotter with each deep, primal thrust. Your nails dig into his back as you cling to him, lost in a haze of ecstasy.

“Fuck, Zoro,” you whine, tears of pleasure flowing down your cheeks as he pounds you into the wall.

Zoro's movements are relentless, driving you both to the edge of sanity as he takes you with a possessiveness that leaves no room for doubt.

You continue to moan loudly for the man you have to thank for your pleasure, making him smirk and double his efforts, the rhythmic sound of your bodies slapping together hardly masking your cries.

"That’s it,” the swordsman chuckles, “No need to be shy," he teases, his voice dripping with amusement, "Let them all know who's making you scream like that."

And as you let out another loud, unrestrained moan, Zoro leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he adds with a playful grin,

"After all, it's not every day they get to witness the full extent of my skills."

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l0velysmut · 6 months

Text

miguel o’hara x fem!reader

contains: short smut, jealous miguel, dom!miguel, p in v, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, brief breeding kink.

wc: 1.3k unedited

Once again, Miguel has caught you in the middle of a conversation with a random Peter Parker. One that Miguel’s told you multiple times to stay away from because the man looks at you as if he’s undressing you with his eyes.

Of course, that’s not really the case, but Miguel gets in his own head and over thinks whenever he sees you talking to another man. He believes that since he’s a man, he knows how other men think.

But you’ve reminded him over and over again that no man or woman could compare to him. Nobody could make you feel as loved as he does, or make you feel as much pleasure as he does, so there’s no need for him to be jealous, but he constantly feels the need to remind you.

So that’s how you got in the position you’re currently in.

You’re bent over Miguel’s desk in his dimly lit office, legs shaking as he pistons his girthy cock in and out of your weeping hole. His legs are in between yours, keeping your shorter legs spread for him.

Your suit had been ripped to shreds for the millionth time this month, so Miguel had a clear view of his cock sliding in and out of you with ease due to how wet he made you.

Your juices are dripping down your inner thighs, and you can’t help but moan every time the tip of his cock kisses your cervix each time he thrusts into you roughly.

“You wanna act like a little slut, then I’ll treat you like one.” He says in a gruff voice, putting his hand on your head, pushing your cheek into his desk.

“Miguel!” You call out his name weakly, attempting to push at his abs which were covered by his suit since the only part of him that wasn’t covered by the impressive technology was his cock.

He groans when your walls clamp around him, nearly trapping him inside of you. He licks his lips and looks down at where you two connect, then his eyes trail up a little to your other hole which was clenching around the air.

He brings the hand that wasn’t holding your head down to your ass, squeezing the flesh in his large palm before giving it a light smack. His thumb then shifts to your butt hole, and he presses his thumb against it, making you moan loudly and shiver beneath him.

“Shit,” He mumbles. “It’s like you want everyone to hear us, dirty girl.”

He pushes his thumb in a little bit, and you try to squirm away from him. When he notices, he takes both of his hands and grabs your hips, pulling you closer to him and sinking his cock deeper inside of you — if that was even possible.

“Where you going, mami? Huh?” He growls, fucking you harder and rougher.

The grip he has on your hips would for sure leave bruises, but you didn’t have a care in the world because the way he was fucking you was turning you into a blathering mess.

You could feel your orgasm coming, and you tried to alert Miguel, but the second you opened your mouth, only a string of moans left it.

Your brain felt like complete mush, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t like when Miguel got jealous.

“F-Fuck! Miguel!” You practically scream, not caring who could hear you two.

He stares you down as he grinds his hips into yours. You clench around him, causing a beautiful moan to leave his plump lips.

“You gonna cum, baby? Gonna make a mess on my cock?” He teases, one hand going up to your head to tangle his fingers into your hair. “Go ahead, pretty girl, cum for me.”

You whine and reach your hand behind you to try and stop him from fucking you as rough as he is, but he just takes both of your hands and pins them above your head, his upper body hovering over you.

He presses kisses to the side of your head, moaning and groaning into your ear.

With a few chants of his name, you finally felt blood thundering to your brain as euphoria crashes over you at a high intensity. You swear that you went deaf for a moment because for a few seconds, all you could hear was your heart pounding in your ears as white hot pleasure took over you.

“Ffffuck, yeah.” He groans as you cum around him, walls fluttering and spasming around his imposing girth. A smirk spreads across his face when he sees your entire body shaking which was caused by his pace which never faltered. You thought he would slow down, but no. He just continued to fuck you as if you didn’t need any time to recover from the fierce orgasm you just had.

“This is my pussy, do you hear me?” He shouts, and then chuckles when he sees your fucked out expression. “Course you can’t. Poor baby can’t hear a single thing.”

He lifts himself slightly, his hands releasing yours and placing his hands on either side of your head. He could feel his own climax boiling inside of him as he continues to fuck you at a brutal speed.

He grits his teeth, and a groan bubbles in his throat when his cock twitches repeatedly inside of you. His balls tighten, giving you a few more thrusts before he stops, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he empties his load inside of you, painting your walls with his thick cum.

He stays still for a moment, breathing so heavily that he’s practically panting. He remains deep inside of you, making sure all of his cum was pumped into you.

You lay there with your limbs shaking beneath him, trying to take deep breaths to calm your aching body down.

With a sigh, he pulls out of you slowly which makes you whimper at the empty feeling.

“You okay? I didn’t hurt you, right?” He asks, turning your body onto your back so you could look at him.

You shake your head, and open your arms, telling him that you wanted him in them.

“You were perfect,” You say to him with a small, tired smile. “Made me feel so good.”

He puts his head in the crook of your neck, and inhales your scent deeply, his eyes briefly turning their occasional shade of ruby red.

“Only I can make you feel this good, right? I’m the only one who can make your entire fucking body shake,” He softly rubs his large hand up and down your bare stomach. “I’m the only one that can fill you to the brim.”

“The only one.” You whisper, and wrap your arms around his neck.

You two stay like that for a moment before Lyla decides it’s time to stop minding her business and remind Miguel that you needed proper aftercare.

He grumbles and lifts off of you, taking Lyla’s word and going to get you some water, something to eat, and something new to wear.

As he walks down the halls of the Spider HQ, he doesn’t miss the way people either smirk at him or give him a horrified look. And his chest fills with pride when he makes eye contact with a certain Peter Parker who looked particularly scared and immediately looked away from Miguel’s menacing glare.

When Miguel reaches the cafeteria, Jess suddenly pops up next to him with a smirk and a knowing look.

“Sounds like someone had fun. Y’know, if you two don’t stop, Y/N might end up like me.” Jess says, a hand on her baby bump.

He glances down at her baby bump, and an eyebrow quirks. Then, an image of you with a baby bump forms in his brain, and he could feel his cock hardening once again.

He says nothing to her; just grabs some water and food and treads back down to his office, his mind buzzing with an overwhelming want to breed.

The second he came back, you could see something different in his eyes, and you noticed that his mood had shifted almost drastically.

“What’s wrong, Miggy?” You ask, placing a hand on his bicep.

“How would you feel about having a few kids?”

a/n: idk how i feel ab this so lmk if y’all like it

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel 2099 #l0velysmut

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upsidedownwithsteve · 7 months

Text

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

requested by anon 18+

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I- ohgodohfuckohfuck-”

You grinned, hips never faltering, relishing in the way the boy beneath you squirmed and clutched at your hips, blunt nails digging into the dough there. You hoped he’d leave marks, evidence of the way had the king of Hawkins falling apart beneath you.

You rode him into his bed, naked in the daylight, the burst of Saturday afternoon sun coming in from his open curtains and the hazy light hitting your naked bodies made it all the more real. Steve was sunkissed and pink, tanned from the summer, flushed from the way you rolled your hips over his, hands pushed to his chest to keep him pinned down for you. The boy could easily overpower you, you knew that. Steve knew that.

But fuck, if it wasn’t more fun to let you have the control.

“S’wrong, Stevie?” You cooed, choking man your own moan when his cock kicked up inside of you at the sound of your voice. “It’s good right? You’re not gonna come already, are you?”

Steve groaned, pink lips parted and swollen from the way you’d kissed him against his front door, a scramble up his staircase as you led him with a finger tucked into the collar of his shirt. He was a mess, wild looking and pliant underneath you, head tipped back onto his pillows, brow scrunched up, eyes closing every time you took his cock a little deeper. He was huge, almost too big to take and his reputation did him well. Thick and nudging up in all the right spots, he’d stretched you out with a pleasurable sting as you’d sunk down on him.

“Fuck,” he hissed, nails raking down your thighs, grabbing at you to stop moving, just for a second, so he could collect himself. “No, nononono, jus’ gimme— shit! Gimme a minute, honey.”

You cooed again, soft noises leaving your lips as you leaned down to kiss him, dotting affection over his cheeks and chin, marvelling at how hot his skin was, how he whined and gasped at each touch. He was looking yo at you like a god, like something to be worshipped, like something to be revered. And maybe in the glow of the afternoon light, that yellow, gold shine across his sheets, they’d exactly what he wanted to do.

“Thought you were King Steve, huh? Thought you got all girls, handsome?” You didn’t offer much reprieve, immediately rolling your hips again, a steady back and forth, crying out when Steve swore, bucking himself up into you like he couldn’t help it. He was unwinding, a pretty little toy ready to burst, all pink and honey, caramel hair and brown sugar eyes.

“S’been a while,” Steve murmured and he sounded drunk, he sounded dazed. He blinked, pupils blown wide as his gaze settled on your bare chest, the peak of your nipples, the dip in your waist, the way his cock was nestled tight and hot inside your cunt. “And you’re so pretty, Jesus, you’re so fuckin’ pretty, you know that? Can’t help it, I need to—”

Steve grunted at he grabbed at you, jaw clenching at he canted up, hips drilling into you until you were the one crying out for him. He came a little soon after that, groaning your name like it was something holy, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as you smoothed down his messy hair. He was pink cheeked, surprised at his own reaction, at how much he came, how sloppy he’d gotten, murmuring apologies into your skin with depserate kisses and the promise to make it up to you as he crawled down your body, pressing you into the mattress this time. His mouth was as eager as his cock, his tongue just as talented.

And he did make it up to you.

Twice.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #Steve harrington fanfiction #Steve harrington fanfic #Steve harrington smut #Steve harrington x reader smut #Steve harrington oneshot #Steve harrington blurb #Steve baby blurb

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pucksandpower · 1 month

Text

Hail to the Chief

Lando Norris x First Daughter of the US!Reader

Summary: in which Lando doesn’t realize exactly who he took back to his hotel room after the Miami Grand Prix (and almost causes an international incident in the process)

You stir awake, blinking slowly while you take in the unfamiliar surroundings. The sheets rustle as you stretch, a pleased smile spreading across your face. Strong arms tighten around your waist, and you glance over your shoulder to see Lando gazing at you with warm eyes.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss your bare shoulder.

You hum in contentment, snuggling back against his muscular chest. The sunlight streams in through the curtains, casting the hotel room in a cozy glow. Clothes are strewn across the floor, reminders of your passionate night together after meeting at the club.

Lando’s hand trails up your side, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. You shiver as his lips find the sensitive spot behind your ear, his breath hot.

“Ready for round two?” He whispers, his voice husky.

You twist in his arms to face him, locking your legs with his beneath the sheets. “I thought you’d never ask,” you purr, capturing his mouth in a deep kiss.

Just as things start heating up, loud banging erupts from the suite’s door. You break apart, startled. Lando frowns.

“Housekeeping?” You ask in confusion. More pounding follows, furious and insistent.

“I don’t think so,” Lando says warily.

Before either of you can react, the door crashes open, wood splintering. Men in dark suits pour into the suite, eyes hidden behind sunglasses. You yelp, grabbing the sheet to your chest. Lando scrambles upright, shock written across his handsome face.

“What the hell?” He exclaims.

The men converge on the bed in a swarm. Two sequester you, gently steering you away. The others tackle Lando, shoving him to the floor.

“Don’t fight it,” one orders as Lando struggles. He pins Lando’s arms behind his back.

“Get off me!” Lando shouts, face smushed into the carpet. “What is this?”

You know exactly what this is. Your security detail, come to collect you after last night’s escape. Panic rises in your throat.

“Please, don’t hurt him,” you beg the agents holding you.

Their grips remain firm but nonviolent. One talks rapidly into his earpiece, confirming the situation is handled. The apparent leader of the group stands over Lando, who glares up at him defiantly.

“Apologies for the intrusion,” the man states gruffly. “But you’re coming with us.”

Two agents haul Lando to his feet. He stands there in only his boxers, completely perplexed. You bite your lip, shot through with guilt. This is all because of you.

The agent in charge approaches you next, his gaze softening slightly. “Time to go home, ma’am. Your father is waiting.”

Lando’s head whips toward you so fast it must give him whiplash. “Ma’am? Your father?” His face goes ashen with dawning comprehension that there’s more to you than meets the eye. You wince, knowing there’s no way out of this now.

The agents begin herding you and Lando at a brisk pace through the ravaged hotel room door. Lando cranes his neck, trying to look at you.

“Y/N, what the hell is going on?” He hisses, stumbling along in the grip of two agents. “Who are you?”

You open your mouth, an apology on your lips. Before you can speak, the lead agent interjects sharply.

“She’s the First Daughter of the United States, son. And you’re in deep shit.”

Lando pales. “The President’s-”

“That’s right,” the man confirms. “And he’s mighty unhappy you took certain liberties with his little girl.”

Lando gulps audibly. Your heart twists with regret, seeing him so distraught. But the agents allow no further discussion, marching you both through the hotel’s back corridors. In minutes, you’re bundled into a black SUV with tinted windows. Tires screech as your motorcade peels away, sirens blaring.

You reach for Lando’s hand, relief flooding you when he doesn’t pull away. “I’m so sorry,” you whisper earnestly. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

He searches your face, brow furrowed. But his fingers tighten around yours. “It’s okay. Just tell me what’s going on. Please.”

You nod, knowing you owe him an explanation. But before you can speak, the SUV rolls to a stop on an empty airport tarmac. A sleek private plane awaits, engines rumbling. The agents hurry you both up the stairs into the lavish cabin.

Once settled inside, the lead agent fixes Lando with a solemn look. “We’re taking you straight to DC. The President wants to have a word with you both.”

Lando gulps again. You squeeze his hand, offering a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry. My dad’s just a little … overprotective sometimes.”

You nestle close to Lando as the jet taxis down the runway, hoping to provide some comfort. But he sits rigidly, face pale.

“Hey,” you say softly, “It’s going to be okay.”

Lando turns to you with wide, frightened eyes. “Okay? Your dad is the President! And I … I ...” He gestures helplessly at you, at a loss for words.

“Deflowered his only daughter?” You supply with a teasing grin.

Lando gulps loudly. “Oh god. He’s going to kill me, isn’t he? I’m a dead man. They’ll waterboard me or worse.”

You have to laugh at his flustered expression. “Relax, it won’t be that bad.”

“Easy for you to say,” Lando grumbles. “You’re not the one who’s gonna get shipped off to some CIA black site never to be heard from again.”

“Oh come on, he won’t go that far.”

Lando turns to you with wide, frightened eyes. “Are you sure? I’ve heard stories about shady government stuff. Secret torture chambers under the White House. Experimental poisons. Attack eagles trained to go for the jugular.”

You stare at him blankly for a moment before stating in a deadpan voice, “The eagles prefer to go for the liver actually. More tender that way.”

Lando lets out a whimper, his face draining of color. “Oh god, you’re serious?” He squeaks. “I knew it, I’m never getting out of this alive!”

You can’t keep a straight face any longer and burst out laughing. “Lando, relax! I’m just messing with you. There are no attack eagles or secret torture chambers.”

You take his hand and kiss his cheek reassuringly. “It’s going to be fine, I promise. My dad will probably just want to have a talk with you. That’s all.”

Lando still looks uncertain, but manages a shaky nod. “If you say so. But I think I’ll say a prayer or two just in case. Please tell me your old man doesn’t have a shotgun.”

“No shotguns,” you confirm, patting Lando’s knee. “But the Secret Service on the other hand ...”

Lando’s eyes widen in renewed fear. He clasps his hands together dramatically and looks upward. “Dear spirit of Ayrton Senna, please protect me from the wrath of the President and his highly trained special agents. I know not what awaits me in Washington, but I beg you to guard me from grievous bodily harm ...”

***

The plane touches down at Andrews Air Force Base, and you and Lando are swiftly escorted from the plane into an armored SUV. Lando fidgets nervously in his seat during the short drive through the capital, hands clasped tightly in his lap.

“It’s going to be okay,” you murmur, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. He attempts a weak smile in return.

All too soon, the SUV pulls up to the White House. You and Lando are ushered quickly inside by Secret Service agents, bypassing security checks. As you walk briskly through the historic halls, Lando gapes at the lavish architecture and priceless artwork adorning the walls.

“This is unreal,” he whispers. You give his hand an encouraging squeeze.

At last you arrive outside the Oval Office. The agents pause, stone-faced, before opening the tall wooden doors. Your stomach flip-flops with nerves as you enter behind them.

There, seated at the Resolute Desk, is your father — the President of the United States. He rises as you approach, his face impassive. You offer a timid smile.

“Hi, Daddy.”

Your father’s stern expression instantly melts. He circles the desk and pulls you into a warm embrace.

“There’s my little girl,” he murmurs, kissing the top of your head. “You had me so worried.”

Guilt gnaws at you. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t you worry about that now. I’m just glad you’re safe.” He pauses, then adds, “Though if you really wanted an F1 driver, why couldn’t it have been that nice American boy Logan Sargeant? Now there’s an upstanding young patriot.”

Your father holds you by the shoulders, surveying you with concern. Seeing that you’re unharmed, his gaze shifts to Lando hovering awkwardly behind you. Your father’s eyes harden, his jaw setting. Lando audibly gulps.

Stepping between them, you take a deep breath. “Daddy, this is Lando. The man I was with last night.”

You lace your fingers through Lando’s in a show of solidarity. Your father’s piercing stare makes him fidget.

“Lando Norris,” your father states coldly. “Formula 1 driver. British national. Born and raised in Bristol, England. Competes for McLaren Racing. Net worth of $30 million USD. Had unauthorized relations with my daughter approximately ...” He glances at his watch, “ ... twelve hours ago.”

Lando pales under your father’s recitation of his biography and recent activities. You shoot your dad a pleading look.

“Go easy on him, okay?”

Your father’s face softens slightly at your words. He beckons for Lando to step forward.

“Son, you have exactly one minute to explain yourself before I set the full force of the United States government on you for defiling my princess. And believe me when I say there are dark places in this world where no one will ever find you again.”

Lando looks ready to pass out. He glances at you in panic, mouth opening and closing soundlessly. You give his hand an encouraging squeeze, signaling for him to speak.

“I-I’m so sorry, Mr. President,” Lando stammers. “Obviously I didn’t know who Y/N was when we met last night. But I care about her a lot, truly, and I would never intentionally do anything to hurt her. I have nothing but respect for her and for you, sir.”

He straightens his shoulders, gaining confidence. “I understand I made a mistake, and I take full responsibility. But I promise, my intentions are honorable. If you’ll permit it, I’d like to properly court Y/N with your blessing.”

Your father studies Lando for a long moment, face unreadable. The tension in the room is stifling. Finally, he cracks a wry smile.

“Very well. You’ve got spunk, kid, I’ll give you that. And clearly my daughter sees something in you worth all this trouble. But understand this—” Your father leans in, eyes flashing. “You’ve got one shot to prove yourself worthy of her. Mess it up, and you’ll be scrubbing toilets in Guantanamo Bay for the rest of your short, miserable life. Are we clear?”

Lando audibly gulps again. “C-crystal clear, sir.”

“Good.” Your father claps Lando on the shoulder firmly enough to make him wince. Then he turns to you, expression softening.

“I’m not happy you were out all night without security, young lady. You’ll be grounded for two weeks. No cell phone, no social media, and no racing events.” You open your mouth to protest, but your father silences you with a raised hand. “However, in light of the circumstances, we’ll reduce it to one week. Consider yourself lucky.”

You sigh but don’t argue. Your father pulls you in for one more hug. “I’m glad you’re alright, sweetpea. Now run along back to the residence while I have a few more words with your new suitor here.”

You give Lando an encouraging smile as you exit the Oval Office. The last thing you see before the door shuts is your father clapping a hand on Lando’s shoulder again, steering him toward the Roosevelt Desk. “Have a seat, son. We’ve got lots to discuss ...”

Lando perches anxiously on the edge of the chair across from your father at the Roosevelt Desk.

“First things first,” your dad begins. “I expect you to treat my daughter with the utmost respect. No staying out all night and no unsavory activities. You will be a gentleman at all times. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” Lando says quickly.

“Second, you are not to distract her from her studies. Y/N is on track to graduate top of her class at Georgetown and I won’t have anyone jeopardizing that.”

Lando nods. “Of course not, her education comes first.”

“Good,” your father says gruffly. “Third rule: you will check in with me weekly to provide updates on where you are taking her and what you are doing. And know that my security team will be monitoring your activities closely as well.”

Gulping, Lando agrees to the terms. Your father continues laying down the law for several more minutes, covering everything from curfews to social media posts to PDA.

“And if at any point I decide you are no longer an appropriate suitor for my daughter, you will end the relationship immediately and without argument. Is that clear?”

“Crystal clear, Mr. President,” Lando says quickly. “You have my word I intend to do right by Y/N.”

Your father studies him a moment longer before cracking a wry smile. “Well, you’ve got guts at least, son. Most boys your age would’ve wet themselves by now. I suppose I can give you a chance. But remember, one toe out of line and ...”

He makes a slicing motion across his throat. Lando audibly gulps.

“Yes sir! I understand completely.”

“Good man,” your father says, standing to clap Lando on the back. “Now let’s get you out of here before you really do pass out ...”

***

After the whirlwind events of the day, Lando is given a plush guest suite in the White House residence to spend the night. He collapses onto the king-sized four poster bed, emotionally exhausted.

Just this morning he woke up with the President’s daughter in his arms. Now he’s been threatened within an inch of his life by the leader of the free world. What a wild rollercoaster of a day.

A soft knock at the door makes Lando jump. Before he can respond, you slip inside, closing the door quietly behind you.

“Y/N!” Lando exclaims in a loud whisper. “What are you doing here?”

You smile mischievously, walking over to sit beside him on the bed. “What does it look like? I missed you.”

Lando’s eyes dart around the room, half expecting your father to burst out of the closet. “Are you crazy? If we get caught together your dad will annihilate me!”

You wave a hand dismissively. “Oh relax, no one patrols the residential wing’s hallways at night. We’re completely alone.” Leaning in, you brush your lips teasingly along his jaw. “Now where were we this morning before we were so rudely interrupted?”

Lando can’t restrain a small groan of desire, but retains the presence of mind to gently halt your roaming hands. “Y/N, we can’t. You heard your father’s rules.”

You make a face. “Come on, live a little! He won’t know as long as we’re discreet.”

Biting his lip, Lando wavers. Having you here, so warm and willing in his arms, is incredibly tempting. And technically the President had only forbidden unauthorized nighttime activities outside of the White House ...

Sensing his hesitation, you straddle his lap and cup his face in your hands. “I want this, Lando,” you murmur sincerely before kissing him deeply.

That does it. Lando kisses you back hungrily, pulling you flush against him. You let out a delighted hum, fingers spearing into his curls. Within moments you’re both stripped down to your underwear, hands greedily exploring.

But as things heat up, Lando abruptly breaks the kiss, eyes wide. “Did you hear that?” He whispers.

You still, listening closely. “Hear what?”

“I thought I heard something in the hall.”

You grin teasingly. “You’re being paranoid.” But you indulge him and climb off so he can check, wrapping yourself in a sheet.

Lando cracks the door open slowly, peering out. Seeing nothing, he lets out a breath and returns to the bed.

“Okay, false alarm. Now, where were-”

His words cut off with a yelp as you pounce, pinning him beneath you. Laughing, you silence any further protest with your lips. Soon Lando is kissing you fiercely once more, hands roaming your body.

Just as he’s unclasping your bra, Lando breaks the kiss again. “Wait, did you lock the door?”

You huff in feigned annoyance. “Of course I did!”

But Lando is already slithering out from under you to double check. You flop back against the pillows with a sigh.

“Lando, would you relax? No one is coming.” You give him your best pleading look. “Now come back to bed and finish what you started, handsome.”

That seems to do the trick. With one final glance at the locked door, Lando grins and rejoins you. His warm hands and mouth resume their sensual exploration.

You’re both completely lost in each other when suddenly the door handle rattles.

“Someone’s coming!” Lando whispers in alarm.

He hurriedly gathers up the sheets around you just as the door swings open to reveal a Secret Service agent.

“Oh, uh, hello?” Lando says, trying to sound casual despite being shirtless and flushed.

You hold perfectly still under the sheet, heart hammering.

The agent surveys the room suspiciously. “Thought I heard voices. Everything alright in here, Mr. Norris?”

“Yep, all good!” Lando says with forced cheer. “Just chatting on the phone. With my … mum. In England. Time zones, you know.”

The agent clearly doesn’t seem convinced, his gaze raking over the disheveled bed. But after a long pause he simply says “Very well. Have a good night, sir.”

Lando sighs in relief as the door shuts. After a moment, you peek your head out from under the sheet.

“That was close!”

Lando flops back onto the bed, laughing. “No kidding! I thought we were busted for sure.”

Tilting his chin up, you give Lando a slow, sensual kiss. “Now then, I believe you still have some unfinished business to attend to, Mr. Norris ...”

Lando searches your face then grins sheepishly, pulling you into his arms. “You’re absolutely incorrigible. Come here.”

***

For your first official date night, Lando takes you out for dinner in The Inn at Little Washington. You emerge from your room in a stunning silky dress, hair and makeup impeccable.

Lando’s eyes widen and he lets out an appreciative whistle. “Wow. You look incredible.”

He pulls you in for a quick kiss, careful not to smudge your lipstick. Just then, your Secret Service detail emerges, dressed in their standard crisp black suits and sunglasses.

The lead agent addresses Lando gruffly. “Alright, here’s the deal. We’ll be accompanying you tonight, but our goal is to stay invisible. Don’t acknowledge us, don’t make eye contact, just pretend we’re not there.”

Lando nods, looking uncertain. With their massive builds and conspicuous attire, ignoring the agents doesn’t seem likely. But he decides to just go with it.

At the restaurant, the hostess seats you and Lando at a cozy table for two. As promised, your detail blends into the background, taking up positions around the dining room. Lando tries his best not to glance nervously at the two imposing figures lurking near the entrance.

After you order, Lando reaches across the table to take your hand. “You really do look stunning tonight,” he says softly. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

You blush prettily. “Smooth talker. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Lando grins. Just then, the sommelier arrives to present the wine list. As he’s rattling off descriptions of merlots and cabernets, you notice Lando’s gaze drift over the sommelier’s shoulder to where two of your agents are posted nearby. You squeeze Lando’s hand to get his attention back.

“Uh, sorry, what was that last one?” Lando asks, snapping his focus back to the confused sommelier.

Once you’ve ordered wine and appetizers, the conversation flows smoothly. Lando has almost forgotten about your not-so-invisible security until the entrees arrive. The waiter sets down your plates with a flourish.

As he pivots to leave, he collides directly with the broad chest of one of your agents, nearly upending the tray of food.

“Oh! Pardon me, sir,” the waiter stammers. The agent, true to his training, ignores the flustered waiter and remains statue-still.

Lando has to fake a coughing fit to disguise his laugh. You cover your mouth delicately, eyes sparkling with amusement. So much for blending seamlessly into the environment.

As dinner progresses, Lando finds his gaze drawn again and again to your hulking shadows scattered around the restaurant. He watches one agent accidentally block a busboy trying to clear a nearby table. Another nearly takes out a hovering food runner as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. It’s like seeing massive, well-dressed bulls in a china shop.

When the check comes, Lando signs quickly then leans toward you conspiratorially. “Have I mentioned how incredibly normal this dinner has been? Just two totally regular people on a date without armed guards watching our every move.”

You have to smother your giggles behind your hand. “Oh yes, completely low-key. I forgot the agents were even here!”

As you exit the restaurant hand-in-hand, Lando murmurs under his breath, “Nothing to see here, just a guy and his girlfriend trailed by four gigantic men in black ...”

You dissolve into laughter, drawing confused looks from passersby. Lando grins and pulls you close. Invisible security or not, it was a perfect first official date. And as your convoy of not-so-covert agents escorts you safely home, he’s already planning many more to come.

***

A few months later, you join Lando at Circuit of the Americas in Austin for the United States Grand Prix. As you walk hand-in-hand through the paddock, Lando smiles and waves at the fans calling his name from behind the fences.

Up ahead, a large group of people round the corner. Their eyes light up when they see you both.

“Here we go,” Lando murmurs, dropping your hand to sign autographs and pose for selfies.

But as the group draws near, you realize they aren’t fans — it’s the Governor of Texas and his entourage.

“Y/N!” the Governor booms jovially, arms open wide. Behind him are several legislators, donors, and a gaggle of reporters. “What a wonderful surprise!”

He engulfs you in a bear hug before holding you at arm’s length. “Don’t you look lovely! How’s your father doing? I just spoke to him last week about the education bill.”

Lando stands by awkwardly as you’re enveloped into the group. You glance at him apologetically while greeting each person.

“Daddy’s doing well, thanks for asking! Keeping busy as always.”

“I’ll bet!” the Governor chuckles. He turns to holler at one of his aides. “Hey Jim, tell the White House we said hello to his beautiful daughter, would ya?”

The reporters surge forward eagerly, microphones extended. “Y/N, what brings you to Austin this weekend?”

You gesture to Lando. “I’m here supporting my boyfriend, Lando. He’s racing for McLaren.”

All eyes turn to Lando curiously. Flashing cameras make him squint. The Governor grabs his hand in an enthusiastic shake.

“Lando, eh? Good to meet you!” Without waiting for a response, he turns back to you. “Y/N, your father briefed me on the proposals to increase Pell Grant funding. Seems like an excellent plan ...”

As the Governor launches into policy discussion, Lando shifts awkwardly on his feet. You keep one eye on him while politely engaging with each person. More politicians approach to lobby you about your dad’s agenda.

“Your father’s infrastructure bill was brilliant!” One praises. “Make sure to tell him he’s got my full support.”

You smile. “I’ll let him know. I know he appreciates your vote.”

One donor pipes up excitedly. “I’ll be holding a high-dollar fundraiser next month in Dallas. Your attendance would mean so much ...”

You tactfully deflect, making no commitments. The reporters pepper you with questions about your studies at Georgetown and future political aspirations. You give diplomatic answers about focusing on the present while the Governor boasts of your potential.

“Y/N here is gonna be President herself one day!” He winks conspiratorially. “I’m calling it now, folks.”

Mercifully, an aide reminds the Governor he’s late for a meeting. As the group prepares to move on, he pumps your hand enthusiastically.

“It was fantastic to see you, Y/N. Tell your old man I said hello! Keep up the good work in school.” He spares a departing nod at Lando. “Nice meeting you, son.”

And with that, the entourage sweeps away. You let out a breath, turning to Lando. “I’m so sorry about that. I didn’t expect the Governor to be here.”

But Lando just stares after the departing politicians, looking slightly stunned. “I mean … I knew your dad was the President. But I guess it didn’t totally sink in until just now ...”

He runs a hand through his curls. “It’s like you’re royalty or something. Paparazzi, donors, governors … you’re a big deal, Y/N.”

You bite your lip. “Not by choice. I know the attention is weird, but I promise I’m still just me.” You take his hand, gazing at him earnestly. “None of those people determine our relationship. Only we do.”

Lando searches your face, then smiles. “You’re right. It’s just … surreal sometimes. But it doesn’t change how I feel or that I want to make this work.”

He squeezes your hand. You grin, feeling a rush of affection. Standing on tiptoe, you give him a lingering kiss. Around you, cameras flash as photographers snap the moment.

Lando chuckles as you break apart. “I’d better get used to that too, huh?”

“Comes with the territory,” you laugh. Taking his arm, you continue through the paddock. “Now come on. Let’s go watch qualifying before more politicians ambush us!”

***

The cheers of the crowd are deafening as Lando crosses the finish line in first place, finally claiming his first ever Formula 1 victory. You’re jumping up and down in the McLaren garage, absolutely elated for your boyfriend.

In the frenzy of celebrations after the race, you and Lando manage to slip away from the crowds and teams back to his hotel suite to continue the festivities in private. As soon as the door shuts behind you, Lando whoops and sweeps you up in his arms, spinning you around.

“I did it, baby! I finally did it!”

You grin, happiness bubbling up inside you. “I’m so proud of you! I knew this day would come.”

Setting you down, Lando crashes his lips to yours in a fierce, passionate kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, feeling like you might burst from joy.

Eventually you break apart, both flushed and beaming. Lando brushes his thumb over your cheek tenderly.

“I couldn’t have done this without your support, Y/N. You being here to share this means everything to me.”

You place your hand over his heart. “Wild horses couldn’t have kept me away. I’ll always be your biggest fan.”

Lando’s eyes darken and he pulls you in for another searing kiss. Your heartbeat quickens as his hands trail down your back, fumbling for the zipper on your dress. Blindly you shuffle toward the bed, leaving a trail of clothes behind you.

Things are just starting to really heat up when suddenly the hotel room door bursts open. Your Secret Service detail comes pouring in, guns drawn.

“HANDS IN THE AIR!” An agent bellows. “Ma’am, are you alright?”

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Lando yelps, grabbing frantically for a sheet to cover you both. “She’s fine! We’re just … celebrating!”

The agents quickly assess the situation. Their leader clears his throat, lowering his weapon.

“Apologies for the intrusion. Your smart watch alerted us to an elevated heart rate indicating potential distress. We believed you were in danger.”

You close your eyes, mortified heat flooding your cheeks. “Oh my god. It’s fine, everything’s fine! You all can go now.”

The agents shuffle out, mumbling apologies. Lando collapses back on the bed, absolutely hysterical with laughter. You smack his shoulder, which only makes him laugh harder.

“It’s not funny!” You exclaim, covering your flaming face.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Lando gasps through his giggles. “It’s just — their faces! And then when they saw us ...” He dissolves into another fit.

Despite your embarrassment, his laughter proves contagious. Soon you’re both wiping away tears, sides aching.

Finally calming down, Lando strokes your hair back from your face affectionately. “Well, that’s one way to kill the mood.”

You groan, rolling your eyes. “No kidding. We desperately need to tweak the sensitivity on this watch.”

“Maybe we could take it off temporarily?” Lando suggests with a playful waggle of his eyebrows.

You shake your head. “I wish, but this watch has saved my life before. I can’t take it off.”

Lando’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Really? What happened?”

You absently toy with the watch on your wrist. “About two years ago I was out shopping and some guys tried to grab me. If I hadn’t been wearing this watch with its location tracker, my detail might not have found me in time.”

You shudder at the memory. Lando takes your hand, face filled with concern.

“That’s awful, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

You offer a reassuring smile. “It worked out okay. So as annoying as it can be, it’s staying on 24/7 for my safety.”

Lando nods seriously. “Of course. I would never want to jeopardize your security just for some fun.” He kisses your temple. “I guess we’ll just have to get creative when it comes to celebrating in private from now on.”

You grin mischievously. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”

***

“So Lando, I gotta ask — how are things going with Y/N?” Max Fewtrell asks with a smirk through the webcam.

You feel your cheeks flush from where you’re sitting on the couch off-camera as Lando grins sheepishly. “Things are going great, thanks for asking.”

The chat explodes with messages.

Is she there?

We want to meet her!

Max chuckles at the chat’s reaction. “Sounds like the fans want you to bring Y/N on stream, what do you think?”

Lando looks over at you. “I mean, if you’re up for it they’d love to meet you.”

You hesitate, suddenly feeling shy at the thought of going on Lando’s stream. But the encouraging look on his face gives you courage. “I guess I can say a quick hello,” you say, walking over.

As you enter the frame, Max suddenly starts blasting “Hail to the Chief,” causing you to jump.

“Oh my god Max, really?” You groan, though you can’t help but laugh.

“I had to!” Max cackles. “The First Daughter deserves a proper entrance.”

Lando playfully rolls his eyes and pulls you into his lap. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the memes.”

You smile, leaning into Lando as you glance at the rapidly moving chat. Most of the messages are incredibly positive — welcoming you and talking about what a cute couple you and Lando are.

“Hi everyone!” You say with a small wave. “I’m Y/N, nice to meet you all.”

“She’s just a normal girl who happens to have the most powerful man in the world wrapped around her finger,” Lando jokes, kissing your temple.

You grin up at him then turn back to the webcam. “I guess our relationship can look pretty weird from the outside. But Lando makes me really happy, and I hope we have your support.”

The chat floods with heart emotes and messages gushing about young love.

Max smiles. “You two are adorable. But inquiring minds want to know — how did you meet?”

You and Lando share a knowing look. “Well...” he draws out. “We actually met in Miami during the Grand Prix last year.”

“Oooh an international romance!” Max teases.

You poke Lando playfully in the side. “What he’s leaving out is that we met at a club. I was there on a rare night out and he came over to ask me to dance.”

“Is that so?” Max grins.

“Hey now, no need for the details,” Lando says, tickling your sides as you squirm and laugh.

The chat is begging for the full story, so you decide to give it to them. “Okay, okay! So we danced all night and really hit it off. Then the next morning ...”

You trail off, trying not to giggle as Lando shakes his head. “Do we really need to tell them about the next morning?”

Yes! The chat unanimously agrees.

You pat Lando’s cheek. “It’s okay honey, I’ll protect you from the memes this time.”

Clearing your throat, you continue. “So the next morning, after a night of … fun, my secret service detail may have burst into Lando’s hotel room to bring me back home.”

Max bursts out laughing. “No way! Lando, you absolute madman.”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Lando exclaims, though he’s laughing too. “How was I supposed to know who she was?”

Max snorts. “I mean, who doesn’t recognize America’s Sweetheart?”

Lando smirks. “I’m British! And I was a bit distracted by her other, uh, assets.”

“Lando!” You swat his chest playfully as he cracks up, the chat going crazy over his flirtatious teasing.

“Anyway,” you go on. “I had to explain to my security team that I was fine and we were just hanging out. But of course they still dragged both of us back to the White House so Lando could meet my father.”

Max is wheezing. “No way, they took you to meet the President after an one night stand?”

Lando covers his reddening face. “It was mortifying. I was stumbling around half asleep still in last night’s clothes, reeking of vodka and bad decisions.”

You kiss his cheek, patting his leg consolingly. “Aww babe, you did great. My dad said he admired your composure given the circumstances.”

Lando peeks out from behind his hands. “Really?”

“Really,” you confirm. “He could tell how much you cared about me and that you weren’t just fooling around. And obviously he was right, since here we are a year later and happier than ever.”

Lando smiles softly, pulling you in for a sweet kiss. “Yeah, here we are.”

The chat has switched to mostly heart eye and aww emojis, gushing about you two being relationship goals.

You turn back to the camera a bit bashfully. “So yeah, that’s the story of how we met. Not exactly a fairytale beginning but ...”

You trail off as Lando reaches out to tilt your chin towards him, looking into your eyes earnestly. “It was the start of my fairytale,” he says softly.

Your heart flutters at his words. You lean in and kiss him tenderly. For a moment, it feels like you and Lando are the only two people in the world.

When you finally break apart, you rest your forehead against his. “You’re my fairytale too,” you whisper.

Lando’s eyes are full of love and wonder, as if he can’t believe how lucky he is to have found you.

“Awww!” Max interrupts your intimate moment. “You two are just too cute. The chat is loving this!”

You glance over to see the chat flooded with positive messages about your relationship. Smiling shyly, you take Lando’s hand and lace your fingers together.

“I’d say this turned out to be a pretty good stream, wouldn’t you?” Lando asks, grinning.

You laugh, giving his hand a squeeze. “Definitely one of your best.”

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