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halsteadlover · 3 months

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𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝

*Gif and pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!Reader.

• Requested: no.

• Summary: Lando always has a hard time trying to keep his hands off you, not even while attending an important event.

• Warnings: dirty talking, lots of swearing, oral sex (m. receiving), semi public sex.

• Word count: 2453.

• A/N: PLEASE READ THIS ONLY IF YOU’RE +18. This was supposed to be like a 700 words piece but I’m incapable to write short fics but y’all know this by now lmao. I hope you like this piece, I was inspired to write for Lando so here it is. Please comment, like and reblog, it’d be amazing ❤️ Thank you for your support xx

You were going crazy.

His hand continued to caress your exposed thighs beneath the table, his expert fingers drawing imaginary circles on your hot skin.

They went up along your inner thigh, until they almost caressed your private parts, but before touching you as you desired, his fingers descended back down, leaving you even more irritated and lustful than before.

Asshole.

“God I want you so much baby, you have no idea how much I want to tear this dress off of you,” he whispered in your ear so sensually it made your insides explode, causing a rush of shivers down your spine and made you clench your legs.

“I can’t stop thinking about how wet you must be right now, how easily you’d suck my dick in your sweet little cunt. I’m so hard just thinking about it.” He gave a cast kiss on your flushed cheek, making you choke on the champagne you were drinking and gaining weird and worried looks from the people around the table.

Holy fuck.

You were in fact at the annual FIA gala, the event swarming with famous people, all the drivers with their respective partners but even so Lando didn’t seem to care less.

He was only focused on you, forgetting his surroundings.

He needed to touch you, always, constantly. He needed to feel you, to always have a hand on your body.

And how could anyone blame him?

Lando couldn’t normally keep his hormones at bay but seeing you in that damn dress with that slit, he could barely function and take his eyes off of you. He pretended to have a conversation with Carlos, but in reality he wasn’t listening to a single word his teammate was saying, being too focused on keeping his hard dick at bay.

He tried to hold back the smirk that threatened to appear on his face when you squeezed your thighs together, trapping his hand between them and preventing him from moving it.

“Babe you okay?” He murmured in your ear at one point, turning his attention towards you. He always had that damn smile on his face, that smirk so damn sexy you wanted nothing more than to get on your knees under the table and not care about anything else.

“Lando, you’re driving me crazy. Stop it,” you retorted through gritted teeth, in a low voice so that no one at the table would hear what you were talking about with your boyfriend.

Lando chuckled and removed the hand he had on your thigh and caressed your face with it, then resting it on your partially bare back. “But I’m not doing anything princess.”

“Oh you know damn well what you’re doing and you have to stop,” you repeated, but in the meantime feeling your cheeks burning and the heat running through your body.

Had the temperatures suddenly risen?

Or were you just horny?

Probably the second option.

“I can’t help it princess, you look so fucking hot in this dress,” he whispered, making you smile and your pussy clench at the same time.

And the fact he looked so damn sexy in that suit, so good you just wanted to rip his clothes with your teeth didn’t help make things particularly easy. If Lando struggled not to constantly touch you, you weren’t so different. You couldn’t help it, you couldn’t resist him even if you tried and it certainly wasn’t your fault.

It was his fault sex oozed from every single fucking pore of his body.

“I’m already hard as rock right now, you’re not helping if you keep looking at me like that.” His voice caught your attention again, not realizing you were mesmerized by looking at him and running your hungry eyes over his body.

“I’m not looking at you in any way baby, you just look very, very handsome in this outfit.” You seductively battled your lashes. You printed a kiss on his cheek, making your lips slight caress his earlobe. “And very, very fuckable.”

“Fucking hell,” he breathed out, about to combust.

You then placed a hand on his cheek, eagerly wanting to have some physical contact with him It didn’t matter if it was an arm, a hand, or his face, you needed to touch him. His skin was particularly hot and the way his pupils were dilated told you to everything you needed to know.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he admonished you, even though he didn’t want you to stop at all, he just wanted to avoid fucking you on that table in front of everyone.

“Too bad baby, two can play this game.” The little smirk on your painted lips made his legs go numb and it was enough for you to give him a small kiss on the lips, innocent and apparently chaste, to make him completely lose his mind.

“You’re looking at me like you want me to fuck you right here and now.” He wet his lips with his tongue, alternating his gaze between your eyes and mouth.

You nonchalantly shrugged your shoulders. “Maybe I do want you to fuck me right here and now.”

This marked the breaking point for Lando, who at that point lost all judgment and didn’t care that the awards ceremony was about to begin.

“Meet me in the bathroom.” Was all he said before getting up and walking away without even giving you time to respond. You tried to suppress a giggle, every cell in your body twitching in anticipation.

“Woah where is Lando going so fast?” Carlos had asked, turning to you with a confused expression.

“In the bathroom, I think all the water he drank is having an effect,” you replied, meanwhile thinking of an excuse to get up from the table too.

“I’m going to get something to drink.” It was the first thing that crossed your mind, not caring about the confused looks of the others at the table.

“How much you wanna bet they’re gonna fuck in the bathroom?” Daniel announced, sparking laughter from everyone on the table. “God those two go on like rabbits, it’s embarrassing.”

But there was nothing closer to the truth than what Daniel said. You and Lando wanted each other a lot, it was no secret, and your sex life was more than active and intense.

That’s why, you found yourself pressed against the men’s bathroom sink, the door locked and Lando’ body pressed against yours as the two of you kissed with hunger and passion.

His hands, now resting on your cheeks, began to wander down your body, squeezing your breasts, your hips, his fingers pressed deep into your skin.

“Fuck I want you so bad baby,” you murmured as you broke away to take a breath. But he didn’t leave you any respite, his lips had started licking and nibbling your neck, in that precise point where he knew it drove you crazy.

“Shit,” he hissed through his teeth as you began palming the crotch of his pants, feeling him rock hard under your hand.

“Already so hard for me huh?” You whispered sensually, sighing as you unbuttoned his pants and pulled them and his boxers down enough to release his dick.

“Darling I’ve been hard for you since I saw you in this damn dress.” He cupped his hands over your breasts, squeezing and groping them over your dress, making you sigh. He slipped the straps of your dress revealing and you felt him twitch in your hand as you jerked him off, his eyes looking at you with hunger and desperation. “I’m always so hard for you. God you’re gorgeous.”

“Fuck yes…” He moaned loudly and you covered his mouth with your free hand.

“Shh you don’t want anyone to hear us, do you my love?”.

He slightly shook his head, feeling like he was already at his limit just from the way you were looking at him. You removed your hand and he placed his on your face, looking straight into your eyes as your hand continued to move up and down on his dick.

“That’s my good boy.”

He almost came from that sentence alone.

His thumb traced the outline of your lips with which you wasted no time and wrapped them around his digit, always keeping your eyes on him. His gaze was fixed on your lips, the way your cheeks hollowed out to suck on his thumb and you knew where his mind was wandering.

He almost had a heart attack when he saw you kneel in front of him, a smile printed on your lips now devoid of any trace of lipstick and lip gloss.

A loud moan escaped his lips when you stuck your tongue out and traced a long line along his shaft, starting from the base up to the tip where you paused for a few moments while you tasted the saltiness of the precum.

“Shit…” He panted like he was running a marathon, his chest rising and falling quickly. “Stop teasing me.”

“Oh you mean like you did all night?” I retorted with sassy.

“Please baby, please… I need this pretty little mouth…” He begged you, stroking your no longer styled hair with one hand. “I need to fuck this mouth so bad…”

“You look so cute when you beg so desperately for me darling.” You took his dick completely into your mouth, leaving him no room for response and completely taking the air and breath out of his lungs.

He threw his head back, trying to concentrate on not letting himself get too loud since you were still in a public bathroom. But it was hard, so damn hard when your mouth took him so perfectly, when your lips kept sliding back and forth, up and down on his hard dick.

“Shit, shit, fuck yes keep going… Oh yes just like that…” he groaned, gripping your hair in a fist and intensifying the movements of his hips. His tip kept hitting deep into your throat, making you gag and almost choke on it, your eyes watering.

“So pretty… My girl is so fucking pretty while she is on her knees taking me in her mouth so damn well…”

You continued to squeeze your legs with desire, hoping in some way to relieve the tension and desire that made you clench your pussy. Your eyes never left his face, thoroughly enjoying that feeling of being able to make him lose his mind in that way.

You felt immense enjoyment, a rush of euphoria flowed through your veins seeing his face contracted in pleasure, hearing those moans, sighs and pants that only you could give him, and even if he was fucking your mouth without mercy you could’ve even choked to death and you would’ve been the happiest woman in the world.

One of your hands was resting on his hairy bare thigh, your nails pressed into his skin while the other encircled the base of his dick, helping where your mouth couldn’t reach.

“Fuck baby your mouth feels like heaven… Oh my god…” he gasped. “You drive me crazy.”

Suddenly the sound of someone banging on the door startled both of you. You took advantage of that moment to catch your breath, but continued to slide your hand up and down his cock wet with your saliva.

“O-occupied!” Lando exclaimed, swallowing a groan and trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible while his eyes were fixed on you.

God you were so beautiful.

“Hurry up!” The voice replied from the other side of the door and you both breathed a sigh of relief when you heard footsteps walking away. You let out a laugh, but it was interrupted when you started licking his wet dick again, wrapping your lips around his particularly red and sensitive tip and focusing on it as you continued to pleasure him with your hand.

Lando swore he saw stars for a moment, letting out a particularly loud moan and feeling like he was going to explode at any moment. “Oh fuck yeah princess just like that…”

Without leaving you any escape, Lando pushed himself into your mouth again, keeping his grip on your hair, using you as if you were his own doll.

But you didn’t care, on the contrary, you loved the way he used you and always did what he wanted with you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he groaned, moving his hips and making you gag on his dick again, too carried away by the pleasure and euphoria to be able to think clearly. You levered yourself on his thigh, your nails pressed so hard into his skin you feared for a moment you’d leave any permanent mark “Ah shit… I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming… Fuuuck.”

With one final forceful thrust, his hot, salty cum filled your mouth and you wasted no time swallowing it, not particularly enjoying the taste.

“Holy shit I think I’m gonna die,” he sighed in ecstasy, his mouth half open as he tried to catch his breath.

You giggled and started to get up when you felt his hands on your hips helping you to your feet and before you could do anything he kissed you, tasting himself on your lips. You immediately deepened the kiss, circling his neck and threading your hands into his hair, not being able to resist for a minute longer.

“You’re so fucking beautiful love, what do I have to do with you? You make me lose my mind,” he whispered against your lips, then losing himself for a moment looking at you. It wasn’t an exaggeration but you were truly breathtaking. Especially in that moment with your lips swollen due to the amazing blowjob you had just given him, your cheeks red and lined with mascara running from your eyes. God, he couldn’t wait to be buried deep inside you.

“For starters you could fuck me properly Mr Norris.”

He chuckled and you let out a disappointed sigh when he slightly pulled away from you, immediately feeling an empty, cold feeling inside you. He cleaned himself before putting his pants and underwear back on.

“How are you feeling my love? Was I too rough?” He then asked, cupping his hands over your face and removing the traces of mascara with his thumbs as best he could.

You shook your head. “Oh God no baby, it was amazing. You know I love it when you’re rough.”

He gave you a kiss on the lips, so sweet and in contrast to the words he was about to say. “Good baby because now we’re going home and I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit down for the next few days.”

And man, had he kept his promise.

General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @halstead-severide-fan, @mrspeacem1nusone, @allivs, @omniaimy, @cursedashes, @kmc1989, @firetruckstuckley, @23victoria, @buckybarnessweetheart, @fanaticlove16

Lando Norris tag list: @halsteadbrasil, @bwormie, @ssprayberrythings, @mynameisangeloflife, @lunepoesie

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bigfatbimbo · 2 months

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I wanna ruin vox.

I want to mess with him all day.

Wakes up: dry humping and cums in his pants with a shudder

Office?: Riding your thigh, the friction not enough.

During a meeting?: Riding him as he draws blood from trying to. Stay quiet by biting his hand.

And at the end of the day edging him so much he cries.

Brainrot.

a/n — Love this idea! Sub Vox prompts always have me drooling. Especially when were mean to him.

Morning would go something like this; waking Vox up innocently enough by straddling him and placing kisses on his screen. He would rise and after a few moments kiss you back. Morning affection, all wholesome and fun, right?

Of course, until you start grinding down on his crotch, making him suck in breath and mutter out a few curses. Hump him faster and his grip will tighten on the bedsheets.

He would ask you to take his pants off, but you would deny him and say “Oh, I don’t know sweetheart. Doesn’t it seem a little early in the morning for that?”

He’d whine because that’s not fair. You’re trying to get a rise out of him, and in a very literal sense, it’s working.

Oh well, continue to kiss his screen while humping his clothed dick. He whimpers and whines for you to ‘Just get it over with and undress him!’

But good boys ask for things they want nicely, so once again, you deny him. At this point he’s squirming below you, still being peppered in kisses. However, it becomes too much for him to take and he messes up his comfy pajama pants with his cum. He’s still whining, from the mess, the way you scolded him afterwards, and then the way you got off immediately.

Around noon, you’d find him in his office, trying to do work. But it wouldn’t take long to convince him to take a little break.

It would take an even shorter amount of time for you two to start making out, and you pulling him onto your lap, moving his hips slowly with your hands. He whimpers into your mouth as he picks up the pace.

Trying to take off his work coat, he would whine about how tight his clothes felt. However, you stop him when he tries to unbutton his shirt, instructing him to keep riding your thigh.

He would bitch about it and try to formulate some snarky comment, but at the same time he would hump your leg fast and more desperately, eyes filling with tears because it’s just not enough.

You sink your teeth into his neck and he’d cry out and tell you to “take it easy!” But all power in his voice is gone by the end of the sentence when his voice cracks and he bites back a moan.

Finally you do take it easy on him, in the afternoon. Except really, you don’t. He’s on call for a meeting and thank god it’s not a video call because you’re in his lap riding his dick.

He’s trying not to cry out or whine or make any noise other than the occasional ‘mhm’ to make it seem like he was listening.

But the way you’re slamming your pussy on to his cock made him want to cry. He was trying hard to muffle his ragged breath by covering his mouth with his hand.

He’s drooling into his palm and his eyes are becoming unfocused. The noise of the call become useless background noise. But he’s trying to hold himself together. “Uh-huh” is all he says now, the illusion that he was really mentally present during the meeting slowly shattering.

He has to bite down on his thumb when he feels himself about to cum. But then you turn his head towards you and make him watch you, still riding his dick mercilessly.

This is eyes breaking point, he sinks his teeth into his thumb, drawing blood as he climaxes. Still, that didn’t muffle the whimper he let out well enough.

He’d cover for himself on call after a few moments, saying he just got a paper cut or something.

And now it’s nighttime and you’re being absolutely ruthless. After everything you put him through today, you’re still not letting him cum easily. Hasn’t he taken everything so good, though? He’s been a little bratty, sure, but all and all, hasn’t he done everything you asked?

Now, he doesn’t even try to fight back, no snarky comments or anything. He just takes it, listens, holds back, and fucking cries. Tears are streaming from the corner of his eyes and dampening his screen. He’s glitching out and buffering and begging you for mercy.

Because you’re touching him everywhere so gently and saying such nice things but yet, he still has to hold back. Your hands play with his cock, his nipples, anywhere they can grab.

And he’s still sobbing under the attention and pleading with you to ‘stop!’ ‘give him more’ ‘let him cum’ just anything.

He’s sniffling and crying when you finally lean down and kiss him, saying how he’s “been such a good boy the whole day, and he deserves to finally let go.”

He’s whining and whimpering out of pure relief as he finally climax’s, falling back and relaxing in the bed breathlessly.

You coo down at him about how good he was and how patient he was, treating him to fantastic snuggly aftercare. He deserves it after the day he’s had.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel vox #vox x you #vox x reader #inbox open #dom reader

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verstappen-cult · 20 days

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Hi Gwen, I really like your story. Can I ask for a lestappen x reader where they are going out together (shopping or date). Then when Max and Charles leave them for a bit, someone tries to hit on the reader but she's oblivious about it? Thank you!

“You think this would fit me?” You ask Charles, blue dress in hand. “But I want it in green.” Your boyfriend didn’t even have a chance to answer before you turned around, looking for something else.

“I like how blue looks on you.” Max says, sitting next to an annoyed Charles.

You’ve been shopping for the upcoming trip you’ve planned for summer break. They were excited to come with you at first, even though you insisted on going alone, so now they have a choice but to follow you around until you find everything you need.

“That’s just because blue it’s your team color.” Charles huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “She looks prettier in Ferrari red.”

“Can you stop being so whiny?” Charles sticks his tongue out, leaning against Max.

“Why don’t we go for something to drink, uh?” Your boyfriend says, wrapping an arm around the Monégasque’s shoulders. “Will you be okay?”

“Can you get me an Iced Latte, please?” You look at him beneath your lashes as he stands up, dragging Charles with him.

You decide to try on the blue dress just because Max likes it when you wear blue clothes. On your way to the changing room you spot a red strapless top and you grab it too. Making them happy is that easy.

In the end, you like both items and there’s no doubt you’ll buy them, but you still want the dress in green. As you get out of the changing room, wanting to ask a saleslady if they have it in other colors, you bump into a young man which causes you to drop the clothes onto the floor.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you.” You’re quick to apologize. The stranger looks up from his cellphone, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. However, once he sees you, his expression relaxes and a smirk appears on his face.

“Don’t worry. It was my fault, I was looking at my phone.” He crouches down in front of you, picking up the clothes. He scans the items very carefully before giving them back to you. “Good choice.”

“Thank you, I really like them.” You say, happy that someone thinks they’re pretty. Maybe he’ll buy them for his girlfriend too.

“I’m sure you’ll look hot in that dress.”

You don’t know what to say or how to react. Most times you ignore what men say to you, other times you thank them when they have good intentions or you know they're fans that respect you. But this man doesn't give you good vibes, not with the way he’s smiling at you with his eyes running over every curve in your body.

He takes a step closer, and you want to throw up. What kind of perfume is he using?

“You can use it on our date.” He says it with so much confidence you want to laugh in his face, but you don’t do it because that wouldn’t be very wise of you. However, you still hear someone laughing behind you.

You don’t have to turn around to see who it is, you can recognize that laugh anywhere.

“Who told you she wants to go out with you?” You feel Max’s warm body behind you, his hand finding your waist in a very possessive way.

Charles keeps laughing, which is drawing the attention of everyone in the shop.

“I’m sorry,” He says, wiping imaginary tears as he stands next to Max. “Does that really work out for you? Because it’s awful, mate.”

“You should really think about changing the way you approach women.” Max’s voice is dripping with venom, and you instinctively lean closer.

“Waiting for them outside the changing room, really? Pretending to not see her?” Charles is not laughing anymore, he looks pissed. “She’s taken, by the way.”

The stranger looks between Charles and Max, recognition crossing his features.

“I’m so sorry!” He apologizes, his whole attitude changing in a minute. “I wouldn’t dream of hitting on your girlfriend. Never.”

Max laughs, but ignores him. “Are you done, schatje?”

“Yes, but I was trying to ask someone if they have it in green when… well.”

“Let’s go see, then.” Max gives you a pat on your ass, making you giggle and walk away from the still very shocked guy.

“Oh,” Charles says, making you and Max turn around to see what’s happening. He’s a few feet away from the stranger, walking in your direction but looking at the man standing right where you left him. “Think about changing your perfume too. You stink.”

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #lestappen x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #poly!f1 #charles leclerc fluff #max verstappen fluff

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pitchsidestories · 23 days

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underneath your clothes II Cata Coll x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1687

a/n: based off the cute request here. We're really craving a tattoo on our own now after finishing this oneshot. 😂

You knew tattoos were your passion since you had gotten your first one aged eighteen. So by opening your own tattoo studio with your best friend, you had fullfilled one of your life goals in the last year.

It was not always easy but you loved your job, especially when you could make your clients happy with your artwork. But at the moment, business was slow.

You were focused on wiping down the counter when your best friend and coworker Carla grinned at you: “Your favourite customer is back, y/n.”

Surprised, you looked up and saw someone walk towards the door of your studio: “What? Oh, she‘s not my favourite customer, Cata has been her only once before.”

“She‘s still your favourite.”, Carla shrugged with a smug look on her face.

You grimaced at her: “I don‘t have favourites.” Turning to your customer, you greeted her: “Cata, hi.”

“Hi.”, the goalkeeper smiled at you.

“You‘re here for another tattoo?”, you asked politely.

She nodded: “I am.”

“Do you have something specific in mind?” You noticed her gaze linger on the inked skin of your left arm.

“Uhm, yeah…”, she replied, catching herself and looking back at your face.

You bit back a smile as you thrust your arm in her direction to show her the floral tattoo wraping around your forearm: “Liking this one?”

Catas cheeks reddened: “I do. It‘s beautiful.”

“Thank you.”, you replied. You could feel Carlas eyes on you.

“But I actually wanted to get something for my sister today. Maybe next time.”, Cata explained.

“Oh, that‘s sweet.”

The football player continued while she gestured towards her upper arm: “Yeah, I want it to be on my arm. I was thinking about a wave or something.”

“Is there a meaning behind the wave?”, you asked curiosly while simultaneously trying to picture the perfect tattoo for her.

Cata nodded with excitement: “Yes, we grew up in Mallorca…”

“Thats is adorable. I love when people tell me the meaning of their tattoos.”, you happily replied while getting your sketchbook.

“Ever been to the island?”, Cata asked while she watched you starting to draw different kinds of waves.

Without looking up from your work, you explained: “Actually, yes. My mother was born there and part of her family still lives there so we spend all of the vacations in my childhood there.”

You could hear the astonishment in her voice: “Wait, you did?”

“Yes.”

“That‘s a funny coincidence.”

You slid the sketchbook in Catas direction so she could have a look: “Who knows, maybe we‘ve met each other before without knowing. So which wave do you like best?”

The goalkeeper looked thoughtfully at the drawings in front of her:” I like that one.”

With a dreamy smile on her lips Cata continued: “This is a nice thought actually. That we might have already met before.”

“I agree.”, you responded in a warm tone.

“I’m going to the coffeeshop, would you two like an iced coffee?”, Carla chirmed.

“Sure.”, you nodded.

“Nothing beats iced coffee on a warm spring day.”, the Barcelona player confirmed.

“So true.”, you agreed.

After Carla left the coffeeshop Cata promised you with a wink:” Next time, I’ll bring you an iced coffee before I show up.”

“You want another one already? Don’t you get into trouble for it from your coach or something.”, you raised an eyebrow at her.

Confidently she waved it off: “Oh, no. If it’s done in my free time, he can’t say anything about it.”

“Okay, good.”, you sighed relived.

“Don’t worry. I won’t get in trouble.”, the professional athlete replied.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“Also, it’s just a small one.”, Cata reminded you while you were drawing the wave on her skin with a needle.

For a moment you looked up from your work:” Right.”

Meanwhile Carla had returned, bringing the coffees immediately to both of you:” Hey girls, I’m back.”

“Thank you, Carla.”, you answered sincerely.

“You’re welcome.”, she mumbled.

You quickly took a sip from the coffee before asking her:” What do you think of Catas new tattoo.”

After your friend took a closer look at your art piece, she whistled: “Oh, this is nice.”

“It symbolizes my sister.”, Cata explained beaming.

“How cute.”, Carla smirked.

While they talked for a bit you added the finishing touches until the tattoo was done:” Now you’re ready to go, Cata.”

“Thanks. I love it.”, the goalkeeper told you happily.

“My pleasure.”, you said and meant every word whole heartedly.

She stood up excitedly:” I’ll call you soon for a new appointment.”

“Alright.”, you answered.

After Cata has left your best friend declared dramatically:” That poor girl.”

“What?”, you frowned at her.

“Oh please, don’t play dumb.”, Carla begged you groaning.

This was the moment you realized what she has been hinting at:” Don’t worry. Next time, I’ll ask her out.”

Normally you didn’t open to customers like you did with the Barcelona player. Even though it was you who was the person who has seen her upper body without clothes, her dark eyes seemed to have seen right through you.

“You should.”, your friend grinned.

You couldn’t help but to blush as you thought about Cata:” She’s so cute, Carla.”

“I could tell that you thought that.”

Guys! Cata has a crush on her tattoo artist!“, Claudia yelled full of excitement.

The other Barcelona players looked up from their team dinner with varying degrees of curiousity and surprise while Catas cheeks turned red. A minute ago, she had just shown her new tattoo to Claudia and Patri but the youngest midfielder had immediately caught on as she heard the way Cata talked about her tattoo artist.

“Oh, that’s why she’s getting so many tattoos recently!“, Ona exclaimed with laugh.

“That’s not true.“, Cata tried to defend herself.

Mariona just smiled sweetly at her: “That’s so cute, Cata.“

“Guys, stop.“

When Alexia finally spoke up, Cata had hoped that she would call her teammates back to order but instead she just tilted her head: “So, when are you going to see her again?“

“Whenever I get my next tattoo?“, the goalkeeper shrugged.

Patri raised an eyebrow: “And that’s soon?“

“I mean I do have an idea for the next one.“, Cata admitted with a small smile on her lips.

Salma shared a knowing look with Patri: “Guess this means very soon.“

Cata was back at your tattoo studio only a few weeks after her newest tattoo, this time with an iced coffee in hand. You caught yourself smiling subconsciously as you watched the football player walked in.

“Hi Cata.“, you greeted her and gratefully took the drink from her that she handed to you. “Thank you for the coffee.“

Cata smiled as you took a sip: “Told you, I’d bring you one.“

“Appreciate it.“

It was the perfect mix of sweet and bitter. Exactly how you liked it. You set down the coffee on the front desk and thoroughly looked at the goalkeeper: “But you know that you don’t have to get tattoos all the time to ask me out on a date.“

You rolled your eyes with a chuckle.

Cata looked at you dumbfounded: “Wait, what?“

“Cata, would you like to go on a date with me?“, you asked politely.

Her face immediately lit up: “I would love to.“

“Great.“, you said and had to bite back a laugh as Carla pumped her fist in excitement behind Cata.

But the goalkeeper caught your attention again: “When is your shift over?“

“At 5 pm.“, you replied truthfully.

Cata nodded with a big grin on her face: “I’ll pick you up then?“

You nodded happily: “Yes, okay.“

“Perfect.“

Cata left the studio without a tattoo this time but she did leave the feeling of butterflies in your stomach instead.

At exactly 5 pm, Cata waited for you in front of the studio. From what you saw through the window, she looked great in her button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to showcase her tattoos. You could barely wait to close the studio.

When you finally locked the door behind yourself, the two of you awkwardly smiled at each other and you had to admit that Cata looked even better when she was right in front you.

You pointed at the picnic basket she was holding in her right hand: “Where are we going?“

“Just trust me, follow me.”, the goalkeeper replied warmly.

You didn’t know why but you trusted her immediately. Walking along side Cata made you feel safe and welcomed. When you reached the destination, you stood there in awe: “Oh my god, the view is stunning.”

“It’s, right?”, she grinned at you.

Truthfully you told her:” Yes, I love it.”

“I hoped you would.”, the player answered satisfied.

Watching at Barcelona from a distance made your worries surrounding your tattoo studio look small in comparison and you felt lighter in the company of the other woman, so you mouthed into her direction a heartfelt thank you.

“Here’s some food.”, Cata hummed, handing you some antipasti to eat.

Closing your eyes you mumbled:” It’s delicious.”

“Wine?”, she asked you, proving to be the perfect gentlewoman.

“Sure.”, you nodded, as the goalkeeper filled your glasses and you both took a deep sip.

“You know I would have come by to get a million more tattoos just to spend time with you.”, Cata confessed with a wink.

You looked into her eyes amused:” I do, so I had to save you from yourself.”

“That’s sweet. But I still want some more.”, the goalkeeper smirked.

Quickly you promised her:” You can get them one at a time.”

“I will.”

With that said you went forward to kiss her, she gladly replied to the kiss, pulling you closer to her, to fully embrace you in her strong arms.

A few weeks had gone by, and Cata and you were officially girlfriends. You were in the tattoo studio when Carla excitedly exclaimed:” Y/n? Thanks to your girlfriend a lot of her teammates have asked us to do their tattoos!”

Hearing that you hugged your girlfriend gratefully:” Love!”

“You’re welcome.”, Cata whispered.

#cata coll #cata coll x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #woso community #woso one shot #barcelona femeni x reader #barca femeni #espwnt #woso oneshot #patri guijarro #womens football #cata coll imagine

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hailbales · 4 months

Text

movie night

warnings: fem reader! x jjmaybank!, p in v, unprotected sex, overstim, cockwarming

summary: jj gets restless watching a movie

masterlist

minors dni!

you froze when you felt his hands inch up your thigh, closing in on the area you so desperately craved for. your hand flew to his, holding it in its place as you anxiously looked around at your friends, but thankfully their eyes were still glued on the tv.

you were sitting on jj’s lap, your back flush against his chest as his hands wondered your body, concealed under the blanket you were using. he thrusts his hardening cock up against you, and although you knew it just looked like he was readjusting himself to anybody but you, your eyes still widened.

“jj, I swear to god if you don’t knock it off, you’re not getting any tonight.” you harshly whispered to him, trying not to draw attention to either of you. thankfully your friends had let you have the seat in the back so they were all facing away from you, but that didn’t make you any less nervous.

“just the tip, baby. please.” he rocked himself against you again and you had to close your eyes to hold your composure. your grip had loosened on his hand, and he took that as a sign to inch further up, applying pressure to your throbbing clit over the small cloth of your underwear. “jj.” you breathed out, and it sounded more like a plead than a warning.

“you have to be quiet, baby. can you do that? can you be quiet for me?” he whispered in your ear before slyly trailing sloppy kisses down your neck. you exhaled a shaky breath, your composure cracking as you nodded your head.

“good girl. that’s a good girl.” he started drawing slow circles on your clit and you threw your head back against his shoulder, holding tightly onto his bicep to steady yourself. you felt him reach between you, steadily pulling his cock out of the confines of his shorts. “there ya go, baby. you’re doing so good. so good for me.”

he pulled your thong to the side, running his thick ring-clad finger through your folds to spread your wetness. he hummed against your neck, thanking whatever god that was listening for making tiny little sundresses that give him easy access

“here’s what I need you to do, doll. I need you to grab that water off the table for me. can you do that? can you be a good girl for me?” you nodded your head, staring down the bottle of cold water sitting on the coffee table just out of reach. “go ahead, baby. keep the blanket on us.”

you obeyed, slowly leaning off his lap on unsteady knees to reach for it. john b spared a slight glance behind him at the movement, but moved his attention back towards the movie. you let out a slight breath of relief, grabbing the bottle into your hand. jj tapped your thigh, signaling you to sit back down.

he guided you with a hand on your waist, aligning himself with your weeping hole. you let out a moan at the intrusion, and jj pinched your thigh in punishment. kie turned back to look at you with a questioning look on her face, but you covered it by letting a nervous laugh. “foots asleep.”

when she turned back around, you let your face morph into pleasure as jj filled you to the hilt. “foot asleep, baby? you needa stand up?” he whispered teasingly in your ear, and you knew he wasn’t gonna let you forget that later.

“j, please.” you sighed, desperately needing to move, to create some kind of friction. “uh, uh. stay still. wouldn’t want our friends to know your sitting on my cock, now would you?” he rubbed his hand soothingly on the spot that he pinched, placing a gentle kiss on your neck before moving his attention back the movie.

the very, very long movie. jj had made the last five minutes of it torture. constantly readjusting himself as his hands roamed wherever he pleased, at one point just holding his thumb onto your clit but not moving an inch. you were sure your thigh was going to be bruised from how many times he pinched it whenever you would start to slowly rock yourself against him.

as the ending credits began rolling, your friends started gathering their belongings. “me and sarah are heading to her place, got an early start there tomorrow.” john b announced as pope an kie folded up the blankets they had used to make palettes.

“alright, bro. we’re gonna crash here tonight.” jj said, extending his hand to do their handshake before john b ruffled your hair in goodbye. the touch made your breath shake, too subtle to notice by anyone but the blonde beneath you. “bye, birdie.”

the rest bode their goodbyes, seemingly taking their sweet time until the last of them finally cleared the living room, the light and background music from the television creating an eerie atmosphere. jj waited until he heard john b’s van start up, pulling out of the driveway before he quickly flipped you onto your back on the couch, the movement causing a loud moan to escape your lips.

“you touch starved, baby? what, next you’re gonna whimper when pope helps you up? huh?” you could tell even through his dirty talk he was a bit jealous, and that only fueled the wetness between your thighs. “no, j. just need you so bad.” you whined, eyes pleading. he started rocking his hips, going at a tortuously slow pace and that was enough to make the band in your stomach snap.

your breath got caught in your throat as you threw your head back against the couch, nails tarnishing whatever was in your path. your orgasm hit you faster than you could process, feeling like you were fading in and out of consciousness in continuous bliss.

jj gawked at the sight, his cock throbbing inside you ready to cum but he didn’t want the feeling to be over just yet. not after a long hour of teasing, he wasn’t letting you get off that easy.

he lightly slaps your cheek a couple times, pulling you to consciousness and leaving a slight sting in his wake as he sped up his thrust. “we aren’t done just yet, baby. come back to me.”

“fuck, j. can’t take it no more.” you whine, feeling yourself continuously clench around him. he hisses through his teeth before leaning down to lick the tears that had fallen from your eyes on your cheeks. “yes you can. c’mon, know you got one more in you.”

he leans back, slapping your clit causing you to let out a loud cry. “fuck, j!” you pull on his necklace, pulling his lips down to yours as his mouth dominates yours.

your hips buck into his, meeting his thrusts and he groans against your lips. “there’s my greedy girl. always so good for me.” he litters kisses down your jaw, trailing to your jaw while his hands finds your boobs, pinching your nipple between his fingers.

“god, this pussy feels so good. all. fucking. mine.” his harsh thrusts match his words, one of his hands leaving your breast to wrap around your throat. “all mine, right baby?”

“all yours, j. I’m yours.” you breathe out, face morphing in pleasure as you feel yourself about to fall over the edge. “that’s right, princess. I’ll ruin this tight little pussy for anyone else, you hear me?” his possessive words send you over the edge, a loud pornographic moan escaping your lips as your back arches off the couch.

your body falls limp under his as he continues using you like a fleshlight, chasing his own high. he lets out a deep groan, throwing his head back as he pulls your body to meet his thrust, before you feel warm, long ropes of cum fill you up.

he’s still inside you when he collapses on top of you, your hand immediately flying to play with his hair as you try to catch your breath. “that was incredible, baby.” he murmurs against your skin, before placing a gentle kiss onto your collar bone. you hum in agreement, feeling your eyelids grow heavy as you unconsciously clench around him causing him to let out a slight whimper.

you giggle, running your fingers through his hair soothing until he playfully bites your shoulder, causing you to let out a squeal as try to wiggle out from underneath him “mm, mm. you’re not going anywhere, baby. gonna warm me all night, how’s that sound?”

it’s going to be a long night.

#jj maybank #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank smut #outer banks #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #rudy pankow fluff #rudy pankow imagine #rudy pankow smut #rudy pankow #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader

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saradika · 24 days

Text

— invisible string

din djarin x vaguely force sensitive!reader

rated e - 1.7k

tags: divergent timeline, soulmate!au, takes place across season 1 & 2, missed connections, the Razor Crest lives, PiV, marking, creampie, magical elements

a/n: for the TS Challenge by @beskarandblasters! This was so fun, thanks so much for hosting this event! 💖 I was so excited to get this song & character

There's something about him, this man.

Deep down, it feels as if a string is tied around something vital inside you. A piece of you that you cannot live without, twined with its match inside him. Like the path you've taken has always led to this moment, this meeting.

You feel as if you are always out of step.

Too early. And then somehow - just a little bit too late.

As if you've missed something crucial. A prickle on the back of your neck. Eyes scanning the crowds of people as you weave through cities - looking for someone.

As to whom, though - you're never quite sure.

You think it's always been there. A similar sort of feeling that flickers when you're in danger. That was something you had cultivated. Manipulated into a force you can wield. A push and pull, an aid - when you need it. Something you draw from often, during your days as a smuggler.

But you're not sure what to do with this.

The feeling is pushed down on Nevarro.

Contacted for a job, one that had been easy enough. Your goods exchanged in a dingy cantina - a shipment of stolen fuel cells furtively traded to an irritated man that went by Karga. Your eyebrows raised at the charred hole in the man's fine clothes - a half-hearted wonder at how the man was still standing.

The Imperial credits he offers you do not get you far. He's unable to offer you a puck - his trade was in bounty hunting, not smuggling. You're not sure if you'd take one, and the cells are enough to keep his crew afloat for a while. A dead-end for now, but you think - not always.

After, your ship drifts along an unseen track.

To Tatooine this time. A big job for the Hutts that takes you two weeks. Days in the sun spent waiting for the payments to transfer to your account, and so in the meantime - you tinker.

Trading your way up. A broken blaster fixed, exchanged for ship parts. The parts installed, the labor paid for with two, beat-up old speeders.

Only to sell them both to a cocky hot-shot bounty hunter for double their value - his over-blown self-confidence eclipsing the fact that you were absolutely swindling him.

It’s not your problem.

Though here, you can't help but feel the urge to linger. An itch beneath your skin, as if you've missed something, again.

You ignore it. Trading up one more time - swapping Mos Eisley for the sea. The choppy waters of Trask washing away the grit and sand that clings to your skin.

There's always work to be found here - deals to make with the Quarren and Mon Calamari. Those days spent at the inn, with lunches of warm homemade chowder and wrapped in chunky-knit sweaters.

Eyes snagging on a couple that often sits together at lunch. Their features frog-like, affection clear in their soft chatter, the slow blink of their large, black eyes. You imagine it to be a stolen moment - meeting up in the afternoon, too eager to wait until evening to see each other.

It’s nice.

It follows you, back to your room.

You think about them later - the obvious connection. A bone-deep urge to find another that matches a part of you. Something you've never had.

Somehow you know it’s out there.

But it's not time.

The next day, your ship takes off again.

There's a feeling deep down that for once, you're right where you need to be.

Your path is not guided by a job. Something spinning inside your chest like the point of a compass, your fingers keying coordinates with a mind of their own.

It's not a sea. Not a desert. Not a growing town, slowly rebuilding.

You're taken to a forest. The trees are unlike those you've seen - stretching tall and thin towards the sky. Their leaves sparse, but still filling the space with the sheer number.

There's a village - but you're drawn away from the tall walls. There's nothing inside that you seek. Drawn back to the trees you had seen from above. There's no tracks for you to follow, it's only your own boots pressed into the earth.

But you still go out, day after day.

It's on the third day, as you sit by the edge of a clear, shallow pool, that you hear the crack of branches under boots.

It should frighten you… but it doesn't.

It feels like an inevitability.

Your head turns, and there's a man there. His limbs encased in armor of shining beskar. A Mandalorian, you realize, when your eyes meet the dark visor that bisects his helmet.

"It's you." The words are a flat buzz, through his helmet. Unsurprised, somehow. Just as you are.

And it's him.

There's something about him, this man.

You're not sure what that something is...

But think you are finally ready to find out.

His touch is familiar, though you've never known it. Much like everything else, it feels almost destined.

You know he feels it too. A slow circling dance, the weight of his eyes following you from behind the visor. That string inside no longer feels like a leash, but instead - a lifeline.

Finally being able to acknowledge that he has been what you've been orbiting around this whole time. Easing that ever-present ache of loneliness that had always followed you.

For some time, he had thought you would be the one to train Grogu. That perhaps this had been the reason why the fates had pushed you together.

You had tried, and failed. That part of you still too raw, too unfashioned. It lived inside you, but it was something you had been unable to teach another. How could you, when you did not even know the word for what it was?

And as time passed, you realized deep down that you were truly meant to be here now. Not for the before.

An aid at first, of course. You had gone with him to Tython. Traded in your ship, and traveled on the Slave 1. Had faced death by his side, staring into the black chrome of the Dark Troopers.

Had grieved with him, after.

You think this had been your place all along.

This liminal space, in those months that follow.

Giving him something to grab onto. Fingers sinking into flesh, your back hitting the mattress as he follows.

It’s dark, in the belly of his ship. With anyone else your senses would be screaming, a ringing alarm.

But you’ve come to know each room, fingers tracing the cold metal. From the walls, to the bunk, to him - the tips slipping under to tug at the fastenings of his armor.

He is quiet, like he often is now. But you can feel the heat that rolls off him in waves. The harsh buzz of his breath through the vocoder, before the light cuts out completely.

Before it’s just him and you.

His knees nudge your thighs wider. Pressing into muscle and flesh, forcing them up and apart. Your fingers twist in his curls, angling your mouth up to meet the kiss that is all teeth and tongue.

Fingers dip down, thick and calloused. Parting you, nudging inside to where you’re wet and waiting. Pumping deep with his thumb pressed snug against the button of your clit - leaving you dizzy and clenching and wondering if he just knew, as well.

You think he did. He does.

And when he works himself inside you, you finally feel full. Ripping a sound from each of you - his rough and swallowed, yours a broken murmur of his name.

Something else given in the dark, on another night akin to this. Pieces of himself peeled back and gifted, only to be carefully wrapped up and buried deep.

The pound of his hips itches at something you’ve been missing. Those hands tugging at your hips, pulling you to meet each harsh thrust. Fingers slipping down to swirl against you again - a spark rising each time you fit together, building swiftly to an inferno.

“Din,” You breathe, as something heavy flickers inside you, just out of reach, “Stars, please. Don’t stop-”

“I won’t,” It’s a low oath, as his cock grinds deep, “I’ve waited too long for you, cyare.”

He wrenches it from you, setting you ablaze. Your is cry loud in the tiny room as you come undone. The wild swirl of your senses narrowing down, until it’s just him. Din’s mouth against your neck, warm breath and teeth nipping marks into your skin - the pleasure flowing from you in pulsing waves, sinking into him.

Making him follow, no more than a dozen thrusts later. A gritted, bitten-back moan of your own name, before his hips are stuttering. Giving back what you passed to him, his cock throbbing inside you, buried deep.

Where he stays, until he’s gone soft. A pang of loss shuddering through you when he slips from between your thighs - expecting him to return to his own bunk.

To leave you, again.

But the mattress dips, next to you. The space narrow, a short sigh when you wiggle too much trying to get comfortable. Hands hooking around your wrists, hauling your hips over his. Settling you down on top of him.

And in the dark - he stays.

“Should have met you on Tatooine,” Din tells you later that night, unbidden. Letting your legs twine with his, thighs parted to make room for you. “I didn’t know it was you. If I had-”

His words end abruptly, hanging. Both of you thinking about all those moments when time hadn’t lined up. The synchronicity of your movements, just barely nudged out of time.

Both there, during that same moment. If you had stayed another day, maybe that would have been your meeting.

But you had left early, and he had came late.

“We’re here now.” You tell him, chin pressing against his chest. Eyes finding his in the dark, though you cannot see. “Isn’t that enough?”

There’s the brush of his hand along your spine - knuckles, and then fingertips as they unfurl.

“Yes.”

It is enough, for now.

You’re not sure if it’s forever. If, for some reason, you’ll be forced to part again. But tonight, you’re not worried.

Because, if you were to reach inside yourself and pluck that golden string right now - letting it thrum…

You think that he would feel it, too.

thanks so much for reading!! 💖

cyare - beloved

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #ts drabble challenge #din djarin imagine

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russellsppttemplates · 3 months

Text

This drawing is for you (Lando Norris)

Matilda already has her love language, handing out her drawings to people

Note: english is not my first language. Look who showed up, hm? Honestly, the last two weeks have been a bit all over the place and I've been meaning to post way more than what I actually have

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Mummy?", you heard your daughter call for you, walking to her playroom since you assumed that's where she was, "yes, baby?", you made your presence known.

"Can we stop by the stationery shop when we go and pick daddy up from work, please? My colouring pencils are getting too small", she showed you a few examples, the colours you recognised from having a big presence in her drawings belonging to pencils that you were barely able to hold in your hands yourself.

"Of course, Tilly", you smiled, "speaking of which, we have to leave soon. Are you almost finished with your drawing?", you wondered, "yes, mummy, I just need to finish colouring in the sun", she mused, grabbing the tiny yellow pencil and carrying on with her work.

When she finished, she set the pencil down, stopping in the bathroom to wash her hands and heading to the door to meet you, "hold your sleeves", you nudged as she held on the hems while you put on her jacket, not wanting her to let the clothes climb up her arms and be uncomfortable.

"Let's go, mummy!", she cheered, walking downs the stairs into the garage so you could get in the car and drive to the factory.

As you were driving, your husband called, "hello, love! We're already in the car on our way to get you, we're going to stop by the shop to buy some colouring pencils for Tilly so we don't have to wait too long for you", you said, turning on the blinker once you faced the junction.

"Hi daddy!", Matilda spoke loudly, hoping her could hear her like she heard him, "How are my favourite girls today? Actually, I was calling because the meeting ended early and I'm ready whenever you want to pick me up", Lando voiced as you saw your daughter smile from her spot in the back of the car, "you can come with us to the shop, then!", she said excitedly.

"That's a great idea, love! Me and Matilda will go and pick you up first, then! We're ten, maybe fifteen minutes out, depends on how traffic is, it looks okay, though", you muttered, finding it easy so far to drive to the factory.

"Okay, I'll be waiting for you! I love you, girls! Drive safe!", he said before ending the call, Matilda clapping her hands excitedly at the prospect of seeing her father earlier than expected.

By the time you arrived at the factory, Matilda had listed all of the materials she would like to get so her drawings would be pretty. Parking the car, you got out, putting on your coat as you walked to open Matilda's door, "let's go, Matilda!", you smiled, unbuckling her belt and making sure she was cozy and warm to face the cold end of the day temperatures.

Everyone in the factory knew you and your little one, so they would have at you, knowing they would have a difficult time at getting many words out of your little girl, usually a sweet smile, a wave and a small and quiet "hi" before she held onto your legs and hid her face there.

Lando was laughing loudly, so it was easy to know that as soon as you crossed that corner, you'd find your husband along with one of his mechanics and engineers.

Matilda smiled as she saw her daddy, releasing the grip she had on your hand, but keeping them laced until Lando and her locked eyes, "hello, my loves!", Lando said, crouching down so his daughter could finally unlace her hand from yours and run up to him, hugging him and allowing him to pick her up so she could kiss his cheek, "Hi, daddy", she whispered in his ear.

Even though there were only two other people beside her parents, she was still shy as they greeted her, "Hello!", they said as she waved, smiling before hiding her face on her father's neck.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow. Goodbye Y/N, bye-bye Matilda!", they said as they went the opposite direction, you and Lando bidding goodbye whenever you encountered someone until you were in the parking lot, ready to get in the car.

"Do you want to drive?", you asked your husband despite already knowing the answer. He hated not being in control of the situation if he could, so driving his family around was non negotiable most times, only sitting as a passenger when he was very tired.

Buckling Matilda back in her seat and kissing her forehead, you got into the car yourself as your husband drove to the usual shop where you got your daughter's art supplies and your own whenever your work required materials.

"Do you already know what you want to get, babygirl?", Lando asked as the three of you walked inside the shop. It was unusually quiet for this time of the day, and a small part of Matilda was happy because she could go up to the shelves and drawers she already knew had what she needed without having to ask her parents for help in moving along the shop.

After grabbing the supplies she needed, she took them to the young woman at the front so her parents could pay for it, "have a nice day, Matilda! I'm sure your works of art will be beautiful!", she said. You and your family were regular costumers, so they had already grown to know your name and hers, so they had managed to get in the small group of people that were not family and friends and Matilda didn't feel to shy with.

"Bye-bye, have a nice day, too!", she waved sweetly before running up to her daddy, "very good, Matilda, I'm very proud of you for that!", he said, kissing her cheek and walking along with you to the car.

The McLaren unit was working on full speed as you arrived, coffees and other drinks being served as guests arrived or workers carried on with their day, you opting to go to the track, along with Matilda, after the initial morning rush so you wouldn't have to deal with too many people at once.

"Do you want to to go to daddy's room or stay here?", you questioned her, "here in the lounge", she replied as you walked to one of the tables near the windows so you could be near the sunlight that had graced the weekend and be a little further away from the buzz.

"Do you want to draw with me, mummy?", she offered once she was comfortably sitting on the chair, taking her pencil case from her backpack along with the blank sheets of paper.

"Sure, love! Let me just text daddy so he knows where we are when he finishes his meeting", you smiled, grabbing your phone to text Lando before setting it down and grabbing the things you needed.

"Are you drawing daddy's car?", Matilda asked sweetly as she took a peek at your work, "I am! Do you think it's pretty?", she nodded, "but not as pretty as yours, I love your butterfly", you complimented.

As she was finishing colouring in the wings, one of the girls from the PR team came to greet you, "Y/N, Matilda! It's been a while since I saw you around!", she cheered, kissing each of your cheeks as you did the same to her before she noticed your daughter looking at her, "hello", she said in her usual quiet tone.

As you spoke with the young woman, your daughter carefully folded the paper and ripped it by the crease she had made so she could separate the small drawing from the rest of the plain paper.

"Alright, girls! I'll see you later!", she said as someone called her name, presumably with a task for her to do.

"You can have this one if you'd like", Matilda spoke, showing her the drawing, "really, babygirl? Thank you so much, I'm so flattered!", she said, accepting it and keeping it safe in her notebook, "I'll keep it here until I can get home and put it in my wall, okay?", she nodded as your little girl blushed at the attention, nodding too.

Because the practice session was being used as the scheduled opportunity for the reserve driver to do a few laps on the track, Oscar joined you and Matilda as you looked over the cars on track.

"I need to go to the bathroom. Do you also need to go, Tilly?", you asked your daughter, earning a head shake no, "I'm good, mummy", she said, going back to colouring in.

Excusing yourself after Oscar assured he'd keep her company, Matilda was quick to silently offer her crayons to the Australian man along with her colouring book.

"Where are Lily and Lucas?", she asked for her usual companions for the weekend. They would often be together so you and Lily could catch up while the kids entertained themselves in eachother's company.

"They stayed back home this weekend", Oscar explained, "but they told me they wish they were here. I think they're coming to Silverstone, so we will all be together then", he smiled as she gave him a small smile, too, noddinh in agreement and taking out her new glitter pens.

They start colouring and not saying much, only asking eachother to please hand them a crayon or pen the other couldn't reach or if the drawing looked good. Matilda felt understood by him, so it was no surprise that, besides her family, he was the person she felt the most comfortable with spending time in the paddock.

"Where's daddy taking you, little miss?", you asked as you saw Lando change the t-shirt your daughter was wearing. Under her dungarees, she now had an orange McLaren t-shirt, matching her father as he held her on his hip, "we're going to hand in drawings I made, and I didn't want to do it alone, and since you said you were feeling tired, daddy said he would take me", she smiled, kissing your cheek when you got up to kiss your husband's lips and her forehead.

"You sit tight, alright baby?", Lando urged, "me and Tilly want you to be well rested when the time comes to watch the race", he kissed your forehead. You hadn't slept that well the night before, so when Matilda had built her collection of gifts, she didn't want to tire you out more.

Leaving the hospitality, Lando walked with Matilda, asking her where she wanted to go first, "Can we find uncle Seb first? Mummy and I saw him when we arrived, but there were a lot of people near him so we said we'd see him later", she reasoned as Lando quickly searched for the retired German driver, "there he is, love", he pointed, walking in his direction.

Despite her initial confidence, Matilda felt shy as everyone's eyes landed on her and her father, cooing at the sight of them matching and the fact that little Norris had showed up, too.

"Hello, Matilda! How are you?", Sebastian asked, smiling at the duo as she retreated, hiding her face on his neck. Her backpack was open as Lando pulled the art pieces out.

"Didn't you want to give something to Sebastian, gorgeous girl?", Lando encouraged, kissing her cheek sweetly and giving her time.

"The bee one, daddy", Matilda whispered against his neck where she kept hhalf of her face hidden as Lando flickered the drawings, finding the one she meant.

"Is this for me? Thank you, Matilda, this is very nice!", Sebastian said warmly, making he little girl smile at him.

"Who's next?", Lando asked, "Charles, I made a drawing for him with a sea, because he lives in Monaco", she reasoned.

"And on the screens now we can see the McLaren garage this afternoon, where Lando Norris has his little one and his wife here this weekend!", Natalie said looking at the screen along with Naomi.

"That's true! Little Matilda has been in the paddock with her parents this whole weekend, and yesterday I had the privilege of seeing the cutest scene! She was hiding behind Lando's legs, but she kept holding some of the drawings until she found the people she wanted to give them to!", Naomi added, "she had one for Sebastian, for Charles, and she also shared some with the McLaren crew, too!

"And when I was interviewing Oscar this morning, Matilda walked closer to us and asked for his help to get the drawing she made of me - I have it right here, let me show you! - and this is the cutest thing ever! I have an orange suit - because of papaya, she said -, and my braids look so good with this glittery accent, see?", she showed Natalie as she nodded, "she's usually a very quiet little one, but she's an artist for sure. She takes after her mummy, so I've heard", she smiled into the camera.

"Yet, this morning, when me and the crew were deciding where to go first, we caught a father-daughter that made our hearts melt, take a look in the screens!", Natalie finished.

"Is it silly, Matilda?", Lando tried, seeing his daughter give him a full belly laugh as he drew a crocodile with rain boots, "crocodiles don't need rain boots, daddy! They can swim and walk all the same!", she giggled, delighting the people who were watching and hearing her laugh. "Well, maybe I should give him some floaties, too! Should I make him pink ones like yours?", he tried, earning another set of giggles out of his little girl.

#lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #lando norris x you #f1 fluff

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roxygen22 · 3 months

Text

FAMILY BUSINESS

"My Little Cocoa Bean" Series

Willy was absolutely smitten by his "little cocoa bean," Benjamin. You called him Ben for short, but Willy affectionately called him Bean. He stayed home from the factory for a bit to help you recover and bond with the baby. He made the most of his limited time off doting on you both. Unless Ben was feeding, he was in Willy's arms. He was truly a devoted, loving father and husband.

Willy went back to work when Ben was about three weeks old. It was an adjustment to be alone with the baby all day, but it made Willy's returns in the evening all the more sweeter. After about six months, he came home with an idea.

"Now that he is a little older and more sturdy, why don't I take Bean with me to work one or two days a week so that you can have some time to yourself?" Willy not-so-secretly struggled going back to work, often lamenting how much he missed you both, but he knew he had to provide for his family.

"Oh my. I love the concept, but how are you going to handle business or have your hands free to make chocolate?" you asked as it took both of your hands to keep Ben from launching himself out of your lap to get to his papa.

"Easy!" Willy exclaimed as he scooped up the baby. "I saw Lottie today, and she had little Georgie tied to her chest with a wrap. Then it clicked - I could do that, too! Besides, babies are good for business! He's so cute, he'll draw a crowd," he mused as he squished his nose against Ben's chubby cheek, then turned to you with a pouty lip.

"I guess we could give it a try. Maybe start with a half day?" you said, excited about the potential but nervous about its execution. You loved your husband, but you were not sure he fully understood what he was in for. You did, however, always admire his determination to get what he wanted in life, even if he resorted to playing on your sympathies with a pout.

"Great! I already went by the store to get fabric to make a sling." You shook your head fondly and went about your evening routine.

Thanks to his mamma's teachings, Willy was handy with a needle and thread. A couple of nights later, his contraption was ready for testing at home. Ben was quite cozy snuggled up on his father's chest, gently babbling while Willy washed the dishes after dinner. Everything was going swimmingly. "Tomorrow would be a good day to try this out for real," he said. "I don't have any business meetings, so I'll just be splitting my time between the stores and the factory."

"Ok," you said tentatively. "I'll get his bag ready and write down his daytime schedule." The next morning, you loaded Willy down with everything he would need - extra clothes for both father and son, burp cloths, bottles, diapering supplies, etc. "So he'll need to eat again in a couple of hours. That will probably be when he needs another diaper change. And he'll need to go down for a na..."

Willy put a hand on your arm to interrupt you, rubbing up and down to calm your nerves. "I've got this. Okay? I want you to focus on enjoying your alone time." Admittedly, you were looking forward to a chance to curl up with a good book without intertuption for a few hours.

"Alright, Bean, ready for some adventure?" The baby cooed and raspberried spit all over Willy's hand. "I'll take that as a yes. Allons-y! Wave bye to mamma!"

"Bye bye, my boys. Have a good day!" You stood at the front door and waved them off.

<><><><>

Willy stopped first at his flagship store in the Galeries Gourmet to ensure things were in order. Mrs. Pennington, a regular customer always in the company of her granddaughter, spotted the chocolatier. "Well, hello there, Mrs. Pennington, Miss Hannah," he greeted and tipped his hat at the ladies. "Are you finding everything okay?"

"Indeed, Mr. Wonka. Thank you," the grandmother smiled. "And who is this handsome little one?" Ben babbled and cooed.

"This is my son, Bean. I mean, Benjamin," Willy replied with a proud smile.

"Oh, how lovely. Learning the family business early, eh?"

"As my mamma said, 'It's not the chocolate that matters. It's the people you share it with.'"

"I remember when my children were that little. Soak it up, Mr. Wonka. It doesn't last long." She patted the baby on the cheek and then continued her shopping. Willy turned around to wipe away a tear and kiss his son on the head.

Ben seemed to enjoy interacting with customers, smiling at their baby talk and staring around the store with wide eyes. But after a couple of hours, he started to fuss. The cashier was on break, so Willy was working the register, bouncing the baby in an attempt to silence his whimpers until he could break away to make a bottle. "Would you like your change spendable or edible?" He practically had to shout at the customers to be heard over Ben's fussing. Luckily the cashier came back before fussing became screaming.

"Okay, Bean, give me just a second and we'll silence those tummy grumbles," he said as he made his way to the stockroom. He deftly prepped a bottle and freed the baby from the sling. Very soon, Ben was reclining in Willy's arms and greedily sucking down a bottle. "See, I told your mamma I've got this."

<><><><>

Once Ben was fed and changed, Willy packed up the diaper bag and set out for the factory. Lulled by his father's swaying, Ben stayed asleep for a good while even after being transferred into the bassinet Willy had set up in his office. Inventing and chocolate making weren't exactly quiet endeavors, so Willy caught up on a bit of bookkeeping instead.

Ben eventually started stirring, alerting Willy with his soft coos. "Hi, sleepy head. Are you ready to go make some chocolate?" Willy set him back in the sling and made his way to the Idea Lab. Feeling refreshed from his nap, the little one was very alert, so Willy thought it would be fun to make this an interactive experience.

"Alright, Bean, I need to come up with something new, and you're going to help me," Willy announced while holding up two jars. "Which jar should I start with?" Of course, Ben's attention was grabbed by the brighest color of the two. "Ooh, essence of rainbow. Good call. What next?" he asked, continuing to hold up two jars at a time for the baby to choose from until he gathered enough.

Willy added the ingredients to his travel factory, which he still used for small batch experiments. Ben stared in wonder as the brightly colored liquids flowing down the spiral tube and giggled at the production noises. Willy was busy pressing buttons and pulling levers when the first chocolates came out of the machine and didn't pay close enough attention to Ben's stray hands. Willy looked down to see the baby's tiny hand grabbing and mashing melted chocolate into the fabric of the sling, his hair, and both of their shirts.

"Well, now I understand why your mother sent spare clothes for both of us." He wiped chocolate off his son's cheek with a finger and licked it. "Tastes good, though! I need to write that concoction down."

<><><><>

You were sitting on the couch with your book when Willy came home at lunchtime. Both boys and even their spare clothes were covered in chocolate. You had to stifle a giggle as you tried to figure out how to best grab the sticky baby without getting covered yourself.

Willy gave you a tired look but also huffed a quiet laugh. "I may have overestimated my ability to keep things under control. I don't know how you get anything done, my sweet. I always knew you were amazing, but you must have superhuman powers."

"Perhaps," you winked as you stripped Ben out of his clothes and started rinsing him off in the sink. "Are you sure you still want to make this a regular occurrence?"

"I would do it again in a heartbeat. But not before I have a bath."

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

MASTERLIST

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comatosebunny09 · 10 months

Text

kindle [ pt. 2 ] | leon k.

genre(s): romance, friends to lovers, modern au

warning(s): language, pining, terms of endearment (doll, sweetheart)

part 2 to this. hope you enjoy! thank you so much for reading! ❤️

It’s a date. Or at least, you assume it is.

Given the way Leon had sauntered up to your desk, all smirking and sheepish, it was only fair to surmise he had asked you out on one.

Took him long enough.

He came to you through the dull murmur of the office. When the sun crept towards the horizon, bathing your cubicle in an ethereal orange. You were elbow deep in SIR reports, gnawing on the cap of your pen. Irritation rested between your brows. If you glared any harder, the information sprawled before you would surely combust.

Paperwork was the bane of your existence. Dodging chainsaws, claws, and teeth seemed more appealing. You’d gladly take the cool steel of a beretta biting into your palm over that of a ballpoint.

Thick, work-worn fingers splayed on your desk, drawing your attention northward. You couldn’t help the slight quirk of your lips. Couldn’t parry that pleasant, fluttery feeling in your gut at the sight of him—your partner, that is.

Leon’s hair was ruffled with errant strands sticking this way and that. Irises glimmered like sea glass, dancing over your features with boyish fascination. His smile was dimpled, and crow’s feet hung to the corners of his eyes. Dark stubble dappled his chin. His tie was loosened around his neck, while his dress shirt lay slightly untucked and wrinkled. It seemed the day had been as kind to him as it was to you.

You found yourself resting your cheek in your palm as warmth flooded your innards. Fell under his spell, submerged beneath its shadowy depths, unable to resurface. Not that you wanted to. He held your heart in a vice. You cautioned a “Sup?” wincing at how your voice crackled. How you sounded prepubescent, and you cleared your throat to ward off your nerves.

Leon’s replying chuckle was like velveteen. You felt it in your stomach. Felt it play up your spine like a xylophone. You always found his voice endearing, the low gravel of it sticky and dulcet to your ears.

As if magnetically drawn to them, you watched his lips, soft and rose-petal red, form around words. Your own tingled as you recalled kissing that very mouth a few nights ago. Committed their texture to memory, quelling the urge to touch your lips. Leon’s Adam’s apple bobbed and the tendons in his neck flexed. You instinctively swallowed, readjusting yourself in your chair.

“Not much,” Leon said, shifting his weight onto one foot. Still propped up on your desk in an easy slouch, swaddling you in the aroma of gun oil and teakwood. Of course, his sleeves were cuffed, baring his sinewy forearms. How badly you wanted to touch them. Drag your fingertips down the forked veins beneath, conjuring the prettiest sounds from his throat. “Just checkin’ on my favorite partner.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I’m your only partner, dickhead.”

“I dunno,” he taunted, standing tall with folded arms. From this angle, it was easy to make out the power of his body. His clothes did little to disguise it. Your throat grew dry, and your voice caught in the bowels of your chest. “Marie over in HR is gunnin’ for your spot.”

It always surprised you how quickly you could move. How swiftly you could retrieve your stapler and chuck it at him. Leon snorted as he ducked, the damned thing striking a far-off window. He threw his hands up in mock surrender, a youthful crinkle to his eye.

“Relax, doll. I’m just messin’.”

You countered with a hmph, clearly over his shit.

Leon replaced his palms on your desk once the dust settled. Broke the heavy silence by asking, “How’s the admin stuff comin’?” Feigning interest in the documents littering your cubicle, he retrieved a packet, skimming through it with disinterest. Like he wasn’t using you to procrastinate, a pile of pristine, white paper leering at you through his office window.

With a weighted sigh, you answered, “It’s coming.” A quiet snicker garnered another eye-roll. “Oh, grow the hell up, Kennedy.”

“Never. You like me like this.”

You cut your eyes at him mid-scribble. Sat your pen down with a definitive clack. These childish games you played made you feel giddy. Like two grade-schoolers in the sandbox, clearly taken by each other. Alright. You’d bite.

“Says who?”

It was as if you initiated a challenge. As if you’d stuck out your tongue and said make me. Leon took the bait, inching towards you, huffing out a chuckle. He crept over your desk with the finesse of a jaguar quietly stalking through the bush. Poured himself into your personal bubble, the heat of his body rolling off him in waves, staining your neck, a shiver sifting through your bones. His breath was hot against the shell of your ear. Dizzying as he deliberately exhaled against your skin.

His timbre was dark with mischief as he finally crooned, “Says that dumb little look on your face, sweetheart.”

You’d never punched him harder.

Leon drew back, gulping down air between a peal of laughter. It became customary for him to torment you like that. To play on the attraction swimming between you, dismantling your resolve and leaking through the fissures of your heart. When the moment became too serious, he often sprinkled in a quip or two to keep you at arm’s length. It was frustrating. How he could act so cool despite the noticeable change in your relationship.

“What do you even want, Kennedy? I’ve got shit to do,” you sighed, exasperation wading in your tone. Your forehead collided against the cherrywood with a soft thunk. A migraine bloomed on the horizon. Leon’s teasing only served to exacerbate it.

His tone was muffled. Hesitant, rivaled by the idle chatter of your coworkers. “Well, if you must know, I … wanted to see if you had dinner plans?”

Magma filled your belly. Your eyes shot to him, a sheet of paper comically glued to your forehead. You were acutely aware of yourself, sitting up straighter, smoothing out the wrinkles of your attire, fretting over your hair. “Dinner? Uh, m-me? N-no. Well—”

“Cool. Now you do have plans. Seven sound good?”

Your expression was awestruck. Well, now, this was certainly a new development. You blinked away your confusion, nodding dumbly. Caught a glimpse of a smirk canting Leon’s lips before he stepped out. Before he tapped your desk with finality, maneuvering out of your office space.

“Wait! Wait, is … is this a date?” you called to his retreating back.

“Take it however you want,” Leon supplied, a hand raised in farewell.

You sank into your chair once he disappeared within the maze of cubicle walls. Left at the mercy of your thundering heart and flaring nerves. The goofiest of grins lay claim to your countenance. You felt reinvigorated, taking up your pen. Scrawled away like an enamored fool, scanning through the catalog of your mind for what you would wear.

<< part 1

#leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #re4 leon x reader #resident evil 4 x reader #re4 x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil fanfic #resident evil x reader #tw: language #cw: reader insert #kindle series

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roseykat · 7 months

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What would be skz(separately) fav type of underwear on their gf? like what underwear/lingerie do they like to see their gf wear...? Maybe a mix of sfw and nsfw?

TITLE: Their favourite types of underwear/lingerie you wear.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with these posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

TAGS: mentions of lingerie and underwear, sex, oral sex - nothing too heavy.

A/N: I’ve actually never thought about this question until you raised it anon, so thank you. I hope I’ve done it some justice lmao x

BANG CHAN

Channie is the type to try and hide how much he’s affected by you walking around the house in such lacy lingerie. He’d actually get fully flustered and would stumble with his words if you tried to speak to him too.

In saying that, he does have a secret favourite set that he loves seeing you wear which is a black, dainty, slightly see through bra and panties with cute small coloured flowers scattered over the fabric. He loves it because it’s a sexy meets cute style that makes him wonder if he wants to dominate or be dominated.

MINHO

Now look, there’s almost no point in wearing lingerie around this man because it’s coming off either way. In my mind, Minho has a high sex drive, so easy access is important. Clothing on you is a barrier to him. That being said, Minho can appreciate a good set of lingerie preferably in either black, a deep maroon, or white. With or without, he thinks you look stunning regardless.

However, there’s a specific set of panties that are almost see through and have intricate patterns on which he likes to trace over with his tongue as he eases into fully going down on you which, can drive you insane. It’s a classic Minho movement to try and establish that he’s in charge and that you wearing such sexy pieces of lingerie aren’t going to affect him (when it really does).

CHANGBIN

Honestly, I feel like Changbin enjoys seeing you in just plain, simple, cotton underwear. It sounds so basic, but it’s so effective on him? Like when he comes home from work or the gym and just sees you in a t-shirt and underwear - even better, one of his jerseys and plain underwear. That would throw him off.

But there’s also a domestic feel to it for him. He knows that you’re comfortable enough to just stride around in the house wearing next to nothing. Even sleeping in underwear too which most people do, including Changbin himself majority of the time.

HYUNJIN

Hyunjin is the type of man who would see you in anything and fall in love all over again. At the same time, he has an eclectic and refined taste for seeing you in lingerie. A staple black set is gold to him. It’s so sleek, elegant, and sexy at the same time, and even though this sounds cliche, it makes Hyunjin want to take photos of you wearing it or draw you in real time.

On the NSFW side, Hyunjin will be the type of guy to push your panties to the side and fuck you. But he’s also the type to pull out last minute and decorate the material on your body with white strings of his own cum. He always follows up with the promise of buying you another new set, which he always stays true to his word.

JISUNG

He honestly thinks you look stunning in lingerie that it makes him want to wear it sometimes. In saying that, he has a similar taste to Changbin in the sense that he likes seeing you in plain underwear. In fact, he’ll wear his own around the house with you too. But again, there’s that domestic aspect to it.

At the same time, if you do happen to be wearing a nice set of lingerie, Jisung is a goner. For some reason he switches right back into a sub and just wants to be absolutely dominated. He’d want his hands tied behind his back and to use his teeth to pull garters from down your thigh. You don’t know how that affect could possibly occur, but you don’t ever complain about it.

FELIX

Felix is all for you wearing lingerie. He won’t only help you pick out what he thinks would look nice on you, but he also buys sets for you if he sees one when he’s out. Some of his favourite colours are more on the pastel side and likes the ones with delicate frills over the fabric on your hips. However, Felix will lean towards seeing you in darker sets and maybe a set of white because it makes you look angelic.

Similar to others, it is an aesthetic aspect with the way in which you suit it so well. Felix enjoys watching you walk around the house in nothing but a bra and cute panties that he bought for you. It shows your level of appreciation for his gestures.

SEUNGMIN

Seungmin is also another person who has a high appreciation for you in lingerie. He likes it when you wear them for scenes in the bedroom. You would be wearing a nice set that he might have picked out earlier on, something that compliments your body well because he’s also going to be accentuating it even more through the methods of shibari.

He thinks it looks clean cut, eye-pleasing, and photo worthy - something that should be presented in a kink museum. Sometimes he’ll opt for you to wear a black, silk yet sturdy bra and lacy black panties then will accommodate that with some red rope when he starts tying you up. Otherwise it's the opposite - red lingerie set and black rope. At times, he’ll also suggest you wear thigh high lace stockings that pairs well with your bra and panties.

JEONGIN

Jeongin would actually make the perfect boyfriend and we all know that, but he knows how to throw an outfit together - and for you in particular, Jeongin also takes the aesthetic of lingerie into his consideration. Whenever you’re both going out somewhere nice for food, Jeongin will help match your undergarments to your clothes.

If you’re wearing a top that exposes a bit of the bra underneath, he would help find the right colour for it. So in short, it really just depends and that’s the beauty of it because no set of lingerie he puts you in will be the same.

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #han jisung smut #hyunjin smut #bang chan smut #changbin smut #felix smut #i.n smut

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eloves-writes · 3 months

Note

How do you feel about Virgin!Reader x Coryo where reader wheres a purity ring and Coryo thinks it is adorable and one day she just hands it to him on a chain and he immediately gets the hint and is like “Are you sure?!?!”

anon i read this before i left for college this morning and have genuinely been kicking my feet and giggling ALL DAY.

mdni, 18+ content under the cut

you had worn your purity ring since the day you turned thirteen, vowing to stay pure until the ring was replaced by a wedding band. it had been easy throughout your teen years to maintain these vows, as none of the capitol boys were particularly alluring to you at all- until your first day at the university, when coriolanus snow arrived back from his peace-keeping summer in the districts. his hair had been buzzed and grown back out, his blond curls starting to return but he wasn’t the same man who mentored the songbird girl in the hunger games. he was dripping with ambition and a thirst for power, and it was attractive in a way that almost scared you. somehow, you had lucked out and gotten his attention, and by graduation your lives had intertwined in every way except one.

coriolanus didn’t mind waiting for you, because he knew that it would be worth it to be the only person who would ever touch you. sure, it was difficult at times when all he wanted to do was rip your clothes from your body and fuck you sensless, but he could wait. he was a patient man.

but you couldn’t wait any longer. your own fingers, though they felt sufficiently sinful, could only do so much. the thought of coriolanus between your thighs was not enough; you needed him to finally touch you. make you his. mark you in a way that couldn’t be covered and wear your purity ring around his neck as a trophy.

you mindlessly played with the gold chain between your fingers as you stood outside coriolanus’ study, drawing up the confidence to knock. it wasn’t that you were scared; just nervously excited in a way that was new to you.

“come in,” corio’s voice spoke from inside.

you opened the door tentatively, a subconscious smile on your face when you saw the man sat at his desk working away. “how did you know i was there?”

corio continued to write as he replied. “i could just sense your presence, my love.”

after a moment of silence, he put down his pen and looked up at you. “to what do i owe the pleasure darling?”

“i have a gift for you,” you responded, trying to sound normal as if you weren’t about to give yourself up to the man.

coriolanus narrowed his eyes at you in friendly suspicion. “you’re giving me a gift? how the tables turn.”

it was true that he liked to shower you with gifts, from bouquets of roses to dresses to intricately expensive jewellery.

you playfully rolled your eyes, walking over to his desk and placing the chain in his outstretched hand. he took a moment to inspect the necklace, delicately fingering the pendant.

he knew what it was in seconds. he had spent many hours over the last few years staring at your hands, this simple gold ring sitting pretty on your dainty fingers. and you were gifting it to him. which meant it was no longer on your dainty fingers, which could only mean one thing.

corio placed it on his desk and stood in front of you, a solemn expression on his face. “are you sure?”

it wasn’t how you had expected him to react. “yes, corio. i’m sure.”

he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, gazing into your eyes with equal love and lust.

“thank god.”

suddenly, his mouth was on yours, and though you had kissed him many times before, there was a profound urgency now that ignited something deep inside of you, hotter and more fervid than you’d ever felt alone in your bed at night.

you were on your back on corio’s silk sheets, pleasure coarsing through your vains as he drove himself into your tight pussy. his pace was reserved as he tried not to overwhelm you, but you felt so fucking good that he thought himself a saint for not snapping his hips as fast and hard as he possibly could. the feeling of snow on top of you, your bare bodies pressed together as if you would die should you not be touching every inch of one another, his cock filling you and hitting your g spot with every thrust. your warm virgin cunt squeezing him tightly as if you were trying to hold him there forever. it was well worth the wait, losing yourself completely in his filthy, beautiful words. drunk with pleasure and corio and love and his mouth on your neck and his cum spilling inside of you.

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ane-doodles · 5 months

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My COTL References

(you can use them as inspo if you want)

A little more:

Wow, I didn't think this would take so long, but I think it was worth it in the end.

I have had to look for all kinds of references to be able to draw the bishops in a satisfactory way (references from the game itself, from animals, body types, eyes, and even how to draw cat paws). I think I have done them justice.

Although I don't plan to draw a comic or write a fic, I did want to define my own reference when drawing them. That way my little doodles would have some coherence.

A couple of details from the designer (just me commenting):

• I had to look for references of many body types and choose the one I thought was most suitable for each character. It was a long road!! The most difficult to draw was Narinder.

• Heket's outfit is inspired by a dress I recently saw in a store, it looked like a tunic so I decided to use it as a model. I added the veil because I wanted to cover her head (it's difficult to draw), plus I think it gives her a distinctive touch and personality. She accidentally ended up looking like a very flirtatious nun.

• Kallamar's design was particularly difficult because in the game itself he doesn't have a torso! but for reasons of ease and patience here he is going to have one. It's funny that he's super tall, but he keeps hunching over trying to hear what others are saying (you know, he doesn't listen very well for obvious reasons).

• Leshy was my favorite design! He has all the characteristics that I usually give to a protagonist!! He ended up looking like a young boy who surely likes soccer. I drew him thinking that he would surely like to walk around, so he should be comfortable... but he will surely end up crashing on more than one occasion. The green looks so fluffy!!! ah! but I also gave him a sting (I thought it would be fun)

• Shamura was interesting. I didn't want to give it too many legs, but I also didn't want it to look strange. In the end I ended up taking inspiration from different insect characters I know (like the red guy from Adventure Time). His clothes are all torn, I think he would have a hard time adjusting to them and would end up destroying them very often.

• Although I have drawn Narinder before it is not easy without him looking like an anime boy with a cat head! so it took quite a while to try to get out of there, that's why his proportions look more animalistic now!! I like to think that his body was vaguely more human when he was a god, but that when he transforms into a mortal he becomes more animal-like. It was difficult to design his clothes, but I like the change of coat he has...I hope I don't change it again soon or I'll have to make him a wardrobe.

• I have no special notes about the lamb, except that I forgot to put the leg warmers!! I realized it too late, but let's imagine they are there. I liked designing the second fleece, obviously based on Narinder's.

• As you can see, each of the coats are made from the remains of the tunics that the bishops previously wore. I want to imagine that after they were defeated, the lamb recovered them and turned them into new garments so that they would feel more comfortable in the cult (but also so that they would be distinguished from the common people).

• I have planned jobs and positions that each one would occupy in the cult, but I don't know how close they are to canon since I haven't taken the time to research. We'll see!!

And that's it, if you made it this far, have a candy 🍬 , thanks for reading my ramblings.

#cult of the lamb #cotl #cotl reference #cotl the lamb #cotl the one who waits #cotl narinder #cotl heket #cotl leshy #cotl kallamar #cotl shamura #ane doodles yay!#character design #Chain for a promise AU #CFP au

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luveline · 2 years

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𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary steve likes you, eddie munson's best friend, to the point of heart palpitations. you feel the same way about him [6k]

warnings fluff, getting together, mutual pining, first kiss, first date, eddie munson is a good friend, steve is hopeless, fem!reader, reader is hellfire club adjacent, reader is an overthinker and steve is a softie, pre-s4 post-s3, no s4 spoilers besides eddie + hellfire club existing

𓆩❤︎𓆪

The first time Steve sees you he's smitten.

You're sitting on the stoop of Eddie Munson's trailer. Coolest girl he's ever seen – and Steve doesn't go for the edgy type. Crazy cool clothes, hair all messy pretty and your eyes edged in dark makeup, you're fiddling with the cassette player in your lap, brows pinched in frustration.

Steve can't look long. He's dropping the lunch club off for some impromptu Hellfire gathering. The kids pile out, eager to see their new (no, Steve isn't bitter) friend with a chorus of rushed, half-hearted thank you's.

You push the headphones off of your ears as his kids approach.

"Hey, Y/N," they say, one by one as they enter the trailer and disappear from sight.

Steve is two seconds from leaving, swears, when he hears Lucas ask how you are.

"You know," you say, voice quiet and immediately intoxicating. Steve watches as you slowly push two fingers between your shiny lips and pretend to blow your brains out. You drop on your back and lie there for a moment, chest rising with easy, breezy laughter. The sound draws heat to his cheeks, worse the sight of your naked thighs.

He's hooked. He has to leave quickly, before you sit back up and indoctrinate him with your looks alone.

The next time he sees you is similar and not. You're sitting on the ground outside the movie theatre. Again, Steve is playing taxi cab for his doofuses, though this time the thank you's are slightly kinder, louder - he'd blown off a girl he didn't stand much chance with in the first place to bring them.

"Love you!" Dustin calls, slamming the passenger door.

You drop the cassette player in your hands and lean your head back against Eddie's thigh. Steve takes a few seconds to realise you're looking at him, head tilting this way and that to catch a glance at him through people's legs.

"Who's your friend?" he hears you ask Mike.

Mike doesn't even look. "Who? Steve? He's my sister's ex-boyfriend."

You smile at him. Steve, hating to be caught but not stupid enough to blush, nods at you through the window before turning the key. It's the suavest thing he's ever done and he's still applauding himself when you approach his window. He hadn't noticed you get up, distracted by triumph.

You knock the window. He rolls it down.

"Hi," you say.

"Hey," he says back. Then, cautiously, "You need something?"

You smell like a lot of things as you duck your head into his car. Mica and perfume and, softer, talc. Hairspray. Something else, wet like ink. He can't help looking at your make up, the rhinestones under your lower lashes, the shiny sticky pink on your lips.

"Steve," you say. He likes the way you say his name, confident, like you've always known it. You smile softly, at ends with your Joan Jett-esque levels of cool. "Do you wanna come see the movie?" Then, in what marks the beginning of the end, "With me?"

He knows he should play it out. Plus, he's startled. "I don't know, I'm just here to drop them off."

"It's okay if you have plans," you say. He catches a sneak of your tongue pressed behind - what he perhaps insanely thinks of as - cute teeth. You're talking to him in this lilting cadence that has him pinned. "But you drove all the way here, so if you're not busy…"

He pretends to consider.

"What movie?" he asks.

You bring a hand to your neck and secure a small silver pendant between your neatly lacquered nails. "Uh, it's called Day of the Dead. S'about zombies," you tell him. The way you say zombies - your voice goes high and airy, your lips move slow like they're catching up to the word, your eyebrows raised up. Eyes wide. He wants to play it back.

"Please?" you ask when he fails to reply.

He thinks he has to be dreaming. Or drugged again. Definitely drugged.

"Sure," he hears himself say, though he can't remember thinking about it.

You don't smile like he expects. You make a sound, a happy inhale, your eyes light up but your lips stay straight.

Steve thinks you might be nervous.

And sure, he can be a jerk but he's not a total douchebag. He gives you what he hopes is a reassuring smile and gets out of his car, locking the doors to follow you to the ticket stand. Closer now, Steve can't work you out: half dreamy, half fidgeting.

Your boots thud up carpeted stairs into the auditorium, the lights already down, previews blaring.

There's two empty seats next to Eddie. In the dark you catch the hem of his jacket between your fingers and pull him behind you.

His heart skips.

Eddie, in what Steve thinks of as his most mature greeting to date, nods at him and then turns to you curiously. "You okay?" he asks seriously.

"I'm perfect, Eds. Did we miss any good previews?" you ask, sitting heavily beside your friend and stealing a big handful of popcorn out of his lap.

Eddie only chuckles. "Nothing you'd like."

You nod and then turn to Steve shyly. "Sorry we didn't get snacks," you whisper. You offer your hand to him, full of popcorn.

He shakes his head. You look embarrassed but not surprised, tipping your head back to polish off your handful.

"You went to Hawkins High?" you ask with your hand over your mouth.

"I did. You didn't?"

"I did," you correct gently, wiping your hand on your thigh. "I graduated two years ago. When Eddie should have."

That makes more sense, though Steve's sorry he doesn't remember you. He was a little obsessed with Nance at the time.

"Do you work?" he asks.

You smile like you're about tell him a big secret, edging forward. Your arms brushes his arm on the rest between chairs. "You can't tell anyone."

"On my honour," he says, eyes wide, terrified you're a mercenary or worse, a cold caller.

"I desk at the library," you say.

He blinks. You giggle and Eddie shushes you, already sounding defeated. Chastened, you drop your voice to a barely perceptible level.

"I know, I don't look the type."

"No," he says, too loud, receiving several disgruntled glares. "No, you- Well, maybe you don't. But I don't look like I worked at Scoops Ahoy all summer, so…"

You slap a ring-laden hand over your shiny pout and try to smother a laugh. Bracelets slide down your wrist. "You do! You do look like you worked there," you say joyfully.

He can't find it in him to be offended.

You're milder as you settle back into your seat. A preview passes. You clear your throat.

"I'm sorry," you say, sounding worried, "if that was cruel. I get mixed up. I know- I mean, I don't know, but the Starcourt thing. That must've been awful."

Your words stick together like taffy. He releases you as quickly as he can.

"Hey, don't be sorry," he says, scoffing lighty. He readjusted where he's sitting, crossing his arms over his chest. "Doesn't matter." It's not like you'd meant anything by it.

You look less peaky but still hesitant.

"Would you believe me if I told you the worst part of my job was the uniform?" he jokes, wanting to put you at ease again.

"Was it really so bad?" you murmur, your lips slowly curving up into a smile.

"There was a mandated hat."

You laugh. People shush you aggressively. Steve feels something close to magnetism at the sound, and wants to make you do it again.

"Where do you work now?" you whisper as the movie begins.

"Video store by the arcade."

"Family Video?" you ask. He nods, looking down at your hands in your lap, your fingers. Your legs are shaking, minute trembling. You twist one of your rings around your fingers and he wonders what's making you nervous.

"That's the one."

You bend in close, so close he thinks he can smell your shampoo. Dusky, rosewater. Sweet.

"Maybe I can come see you. You can recommend me something."

"Sure," he says, too loud. Somebody coughs, though the cough sounds suspiciously like dickwad.

You watch Day of the Dead, stealing popcorn all the while. You pop the lid off of Eddie's drink and take sneaky sips, and your friend flicks your upper arm when you get greedy. In response, your bashful, peeling laughter.

"Fine, I'll get my own drink. You want one?" you ask Steve, standing with your back bent, necklace dipping down in the space between you. He follows it, looks accidentally straight at your chest and then back up, guilty and blushing. "Steve?" you ask.

"I'll come with you," he says, desperate to escape the dark, the warmth.

Steve follows you down the red, trodden carpet and back into the main body of the theatre, an atrium with high glass windows and wooden beams. It smells old, like dust. The sky is dark now, night eating up every bit of natural light. White cat eyes beam from the movie theatre's floors to guide you to the snack station, a brighter, well stocked haven of greasy foods and cold drinks.

You stand in front of the popcorn machine. It paints your skin with a golden yellow shine, like the sun. You're very quiet as you open your clutch, pulling out hair pins and chapstick and a lone cotton pad before you find your purse, a battered leather pouch embossed with hearts. He tries not to fill the silence, digging for his wallet in his pocket. He gets a too big coke and you deliberate over slurpee flavours, eventually asking for a mix.

"It's so quiet out here," you murmur around your straw.

"Like Family Video on a Friday," he agrees.

"Isn't Friday, like, one of your busiest nights?"

"Yep."

A burst of surprised giggles. Steve hides his smile with a cough, 'cos he's cool.

You pull the straw from your cup and lick it clean, digging for a certain flavour though he's not sure which, still laughing to yourself. Steve takes the initiative and leads you back up the stairs and to your seat, catching your jacket in his hand before you can walk down the wrong row.

You smile gratefully, your lips stained blue and red.

You're sitting on the pavement outside of Family Video. Steve can see your back, your hair.

He wonders why you're here, if it's to see him, and then if you're okay, and feels bad for thinking in that order.

"Robin," he says loudly, reluctant to tear his eyes from you lest you disappear like a shoddy apparition.

"Steven."

"Not correct."

"What, idiot?" Robin asks, picking her head up from the book stretched open in her lap. She sits up and her back clicks loudly.

Steve sighs in disgust. "That's gross, you know? You'll get, like, arthritis."

"You think arthritis is gross? Not cool, Steven."

"No, I meant them as two separate things. Gross to hear you click, and that the clicking will give you arthritis," he explains, exasperated. He runs a hand through his hair.

"That's a myth."

A long pause where Steve watches your back moving, how you're leaning forward towards the sun bleached tarmac.

"What?" he asks suddenly, turning from you finally to stare in disbelief at his best friend.

Robin is more than prepared to fight her cause, the leaves of her book closed around her hand like she'd been waiting for him to ask. She probably had been.

"It's a myth. Clicking your bones doesn't give you arthritis. The clicking sound is fluid moving- Are you even listening to me?"

Steve has dropped his head into his hands. He spreads his fingers wide so Robin can see his eyes. "Robin, we have more important things at hand."

"Like what? Keith's laundry?"

"Like Y/N is sitting outside right now!" he shouts, and then cringes. You don't show any sign of having heard him. He continues in a strangled whisper, "She's been out there for like, five minutes!"

Robin kicks up off of her stool to stand at Steve's side, up on tiptoes to see over the vinyl on the windows. She's listened to his inane rambling and insecure, badly disguised yearning all week, but hasn't had a face to a name until now. She makes a sound of approval like she can understand why Steve has been so wound up about you.

"Why's she on the floor?"

"She does that."

"Oh," Robin says, chin jutting up. "Are you gonna go talk to her?"

He wants to. Dreadfully. Intensely wants to.

"Or I could go talk to her," Robin offers, wrists touching. She rubs them together. Steve ignores her mischievous, shit-eating grin.

"Sure, Robs, you talk to her. Stun her with your stellar people skills."

Robin's lips push, as close as she's ever come to pouting. "Cruel."

"Yet accurate."

"If you're so amazing, why don't you go talk to her, hot shot? Woo her! Chop-chop."

Steve steels his nerves because even if he is about to make a huge fool of himself he's slightly worried about your on-the-ground position. Not unusual for you, but still.

"Are you okay?" he asks as he emerges.

You turn to Steve like you're unsurprised that he's there and offer your headphones to him. "Put these on?"

"Are you okay?" he asks again, voice not dissimilar to when he's bossing around the kids.

You hold the headphones to your chest and dip your chin. "Steve, I'm fine. Please?" you ask, offering them to him.

He puts on the headphones, bent at the waist for the wire to reach your cassette player. He quickly discovers the source of your unhappiness – the tape sounds bloated. Distorted.

"The tapes messed up," he says.

You shake your head with patience, though he can tell from your expression this isn't the first time you've explained it. "It's not the tape, it's the player."

Steve's back gives a twinge. I'm an old man, he thinks in horror, standing up straight with your headphones back in his hands.

"You drop it?" he asks expectantly.

You only frown more, looking generally put out. "No, I took great care of her. Scout's honor."

Steve sighs and decides to take the leap, sitting down beside you on the sidewalk. There's a small dip where the parking lot starts and he stretches one leg out across it, hand on his knee, the other across his abdomen.

"Can't one of your nerd club fix it?" he asks.

"I'm not actually in Hellfire Club, you know."

He didn't. "You can't ask? Eddie must've learned something at school after this many years. By accident. Like… osmosis."

"Eddie's on his third try for a reason," you say, picking at a small ladder in your tights on the side of your calf. You're wearing socks, too, peeking up just over the edge of your thick bottomed boots.

"You know Dustin?" he asks after a patch of silence he would find awkward with anyone who wasn't you. You make it peaceful, in a way. "He could take a look. He went to science camp and built, like, the world's strongest radio."

He can't tell if you're listening. Your eyes are trained on the sidewalk, its crack, and the weeds growing between them. There's a wet snapping sound.

You hold a small yellow flower between your fingers.

"A creeping buttercup," you tell him. You push your palm flat in the space between you both and lean towards him. "Do you like butter?"

"Do I- Yeah, sure, I like butter. Who doesn't?"

You lick your lips. "Mind if I check?" you ask him.

"Is that a trick question?"

"Steve," you say, chiding. You tilt your head to your shoulder and the breeze kisses your hair, ruffling soft strands as you hold the flower under his chin intently. He feels frozen.

"You love butter," you say, nodding like what you just said makes sense.

"Are you sure you're okay? Didn't hit your head on the way here?"

"Here. Hold it under my chin," you tell him, offering him the flower. You twirl its stem, though you stop when he moves to take it.

Steve feels like an idiot as he holds it by your neck.

"Closer," you say softly, lifting your head.

Steve raises his eyebrows but keeps his skepticism to himself. To his surprise, when the flower is close enough to your skin, a small patch of yellow light appears, gauzy around the edges.

"What the fuck…"

You lower your chin, your faces closer than Steve had realised. You look straight into his eyes. "It's a reflection of the light. 'Cos it's clear out."

He feels out of his element no matter how captivating he finds you – he can't get to grips with it. His silence quickly deters you; you look away from his face and your lips pull into a pout as you bite your bottom lip. You bend at the waist and mess with your shoelaces.

"Did you wanna come inside?" he asks, trying to fix whatever it is he did. Girls are complicated.

You cheer up a bit.

"Do you have anything like Day of the Dead?"

He has no clue.

"Sure we do," he says confidently.

He stands up fast and offers his hand. You take it, your palm smooth and cool in his, admittedly warmer and slightly calloused. He hopes the ease with which he pulls you up is impressive, then feels stupid for thinking that. You squeeze his fingers before you let go and follow him into Family Video.

"So, what? You like him?" Eddie asks you from above, cross-legged on his bed. Denim jacket nowhere to be seen, he sits in a t-shirt with the sleeves hacked off, tattoos on clear display, stark against his pale skin.

"Don't be jealous, Eds," you say mildly.

He crawls to the edge of the bed to look down at you where you lie on his floor. His hair tickles your nose and you hold in a sneeze.

"Nice face," he says.

"I think he likes me."

"Why wouldn't he? You're cool."

You stare at your best friend's earnest face. "You know why."

"No, I don't."

You close your eyes, head dipping to your shoulder. You can't hide from him, though you've tried. Your arms cross over your tummy in a self-hug.

The ground is cold. His uncle's trailer is always cold, frigid in the winter. Minimal insulation and no A/C. You rub your face into the scratchy rug beneath you and sigh morosely, suddenly overcome with a pinching misery.

"There's nothing wrong with you," Eddie says seriously.

"I don't think I can do it." It hurts to say, though you know Eddie won't judge you.

"What? Have a boyfriend?"

You nod. The mattress creaks as he moves. You're expecting his touch, though his cold finger flicking you square in the forehead startles you anyway. Your eyes jump open. You flinch up into a sitting position and rub your head.

"Shithead."

"Stop doubting yourself."

"I get so messed up. I'm a bad friend, I wouldn't- I wouldn't be a good girlfriend," you mutter, bringing your knees to your chest. You hide in them.

"You don't get messed up," he says.

"I'm stupid."

"Y/N," he says, dragging your name out sternly. "Here, come sit with me. I won't flick you again, promise."

You rub your eyes, smudging your makeup and stand reluctantly to flop onto his bed, his rumpled sheets a lump under your back. Eddie pulls your necklace from where it has ridden up your neck and drops it down the valley of your chest absent-mindedly.

"You're not stupid," he says gently. "And you don't get 'messed up'. You're overthinking things."

"I'm not," you argue. "I'm an idiot, and I say the wrong things, and maybe he does like me but it won't last long."

You didn't have an easy time in school. Eddie knows this, lived it with you, and he's blamed it a thousand times for your low self-esteem. Ever understanding, he hums to himself skeptically and grabs your shoulder, giving you a good shake. He doesn't stop until you're laughing.

"I'm trying to shake some sense into you," he confides. "You're really fucking cool. And I'm not just saying that because you've been copying me since middle school, you're really cool."

"Cool," you repeat.

"Awesome."

You run the chain of your necklace through your fingers and feel the links skip over your skin, frowning.

"I thought for sure he'd ask me out by now."

"Maybe you should ask him."

"He probably thinks I'm, like, a creepy stalker."

"Creepy, maybe. Stalker? For what? Visiting him at work? That's friendly." You're overthinking things, he doesn't say.

"I left him my phone number," you admit, whispering. "But he hasn't called me."

"Babe, you're always fucking here. Did you check your machine?"

Obsessively. "Yeah."

Eddie throws himself down and kicks his legs over your tummy, to your annoyance. He ponders and you sulk, the rough sounds of Black Sabbath playing in the background.

"You've only met him a few times, right?"

Right. The movies, the video store, once when you'd bumped into him at the arcade and a couple of times when he'd checked out books at the library.

Eddie smiles as you tell him. "The library?"

"Yeah."

"He's visiting you at work?"

You think back to the last time you'd seen him, all of ten minutes across the desk with your clean library uniform and your neat hair. You finally cracked and asked him if he thought it suited you better.

"You look great," Steve had said, smiling lopsided, "but I miss your pretty gems. Oh, we have Friday the 13th back in. I kept it for you..."

"No, he's visiting the library," you say.

Eddie chuckles, his deep, teasing laugh. "And before you met, you saw him in there a lot, huh?"

"Well, no."

"So it's a coincidence that he found out where you work and he's suddenly an academic?"

"Shut up, Eddie," you plead, covering your face with your hands.

"Fine, whatever, we'll stop talking about it. Wanna paint my nails?"

"No."

You get up and paint his nails. You've done one hand pretty well when there's the sound of a car parking outside. Eddie turns down the stereo and you stare at each other curiously, listening for clues.

"Your uncle?"

"No. Probably for someone else."

Instantly disproved, there's a knock at the door, breaking up the silence. Eddie sighs dramatically and climbs over your legs to answer, his footsteps clumsy. "Yeah, coming," he calls. You stand and peer around the doorway, waiting to see who it is.

Eddie opens the door. "Harrington," he says, surprised, vaguely disgusted. "The munchkins aren't here."

"No, I know. I'm looking for Y/N."

You feel a stab of excitement right to your heart and scramble for Eddie's mirror, looking over your face and outfit with something close to terror looming – you're in an old band t-shirt covered in hair-dye from Eddie's red and pink phase and a skirt that's too short. You pull it down to make sure everything is properly covered.

"Yeah, she's here," Eddie says, though the door creaks as he closes it slightly, his voice a fraction from intimidating as he asks, "Who's asking?"

"Me?" Steve asks.

Your socks slide over linoleum in your rush to stop Eddie from being a total dick, edging him out of the way with your hip. He doesn't budge. You shove him with a huff and smile at Steve, trying to calm your pounding heart.

"Steve, hi."

"Hey," he looks over your shoulder. You turn, see Eddie standing there looking unimpressed. He waves. You glare at him fiercely and step over the threshold, shutting the door behind you.

You don't second guess as you take Steve's wrist into your hand, pulling him down the steps and into the short grass to make sure Eddie can't eavesdrop. It's damp under your socks.

Steve looks hot. You're a simple girl, you won't deny that. His hair looks more windblown than usual, lazy strands falling into his face. His eyes are serious, light brown and edged in straight lashes you would count if he let you, brows slightly lifted. You realise he's taking you in as you do the same and feel self conscious, shifting from foot to foot.

"Sorry, I look weird. I didn't-" you bite your tongue. I didn't know you were coming, you'd almost said, but of course you didn't, and telling him you would've dressed up if he was coming might scare him off.

Any anxiety you'd had is soothed as he takes your hand, still loosely clasped around his wrist, and squeezes the centre of your palm with his thumb.

"Are you kidding?" he asks, hand moving down, thumb rubbing over your pulse point. "You look beautiful. Don't worry about it."

His nonchalance trips you up. You can feel your heart in your mouth, like a hummingbird on your tongue.

"What did… what did you wanna ask me?" you stammer.

Steve drops your hand. "I tried calling, but I figured you'd be here. Uh, so-" he laughs, pulling a hand through his hair before dipping into the pocket of his jacket. You watch his arms then his hands.

"I got these," he says, pulling two tickets from his pocket. White and a third red, he offers them to you. You take them, enough adrenaline running through you that your hands are shaking and you struggle to read what they say.

Steve jumps in. "I know you really liked Day of the Dead. They're doing a showing in Indianapolis, one of those fancy theatre's where everyone dresses up as zombies, and like, they throw fake guts on you. Or something."

"Oh," you murmur. Awesome, you think. Oh my god. "That's sick."

"Right?"

"And you…"

"I want you to go with me. I want to take you," he says firmly. "On a date."

"A date."

"It's Friday. I'll pick you up, we'll drive there in the morning. Hang around, we can go wherever you want for dinner, see the sights."

"This is before or after we dress up like zombies?" you ask, hiding a huge smile.

Steve blushes, let it be written, his cheeks red. He sounds frustrated as he says, "Right, not my best idea. Before? We can get ready in the car," his voice fades before he finishes. "That's not a good idea."

He starts on a self deprecating waffle that you can't allow. You press the tickets to your chest, way too happy. "This is pretty cool."

"You think so?" he asks quickly, strung out.

"Yeah," you say fondly.

"Oh."

You almost step on his toes as you kiss his hot cheek. He smells nice. You set back on your heels and linger, trying to work out what his cologne smells like. Something fresh, not quite lemony.

You get a bit dizzy and carried away, stroking the curve of his arm with the back of your hand. Steve makes a sound like a hiccup and you remember yourself, stepping away bashfully, afraid to meet his eyes.

"So," Steve says, sounding relieved. Excited. "You'll go?"

"Yeah. It sounds awesome."

"It's a date," he says.

You tell him your address and he promises to call you to smooth out all the details but he really has to go to work. You climb back up the stairs and close the door almost all the way, watching as Steve gets in his car through the crack. He sits motionless for a bit before he fist pumps the air, says, "Yes! Ugh, yes. Still got it. Still got it, Hawkins."

You close the door.

"Ew, you look happy. Harrington cop a feel?" Eddie says.

"Something like that."

You're running down a dark alleyway with Steve's hand in yours. He's almost dragging you. Dude runs fast.

"I ran track!" he tells you helpfully.

You can't help the breathless laughing as you go, nervous and humming with energy. You'd both been having a great time at dinner and lost track of time, and now it's twenty minutes until doors open for Day of the Dead and neither of you look particularly lifeless.

You almost slam into the back door of his BMW, scrambling inside. Steve is quick behind you, upending the bag with your change of clothes onto the back seat. Your makeup and fake blood tumble out after it. He reaches up to turn on the overhead light.

"Fuck," Steve says, face carved in shadow. "Fuck. We don't have time."

"Sure we do," you say, tugging your shirt off quickly. Steve looks pointedly away once he notices your predicament. You chuckle. "Steve, just get changed. I don't care if you look."

"I'm a gentleman," he insists, rushing, the two of you folding and bumping into each other in a hurry to get dressed into your old clothes.

You catch flashes of his bare chest as he buttons down then buttons up, his legs, his thighs. You feel heat lick every stretch of skin you have at the sight. Oh, he's hairy, you think, and then have to slam your eyes shut to stop from thinking sick (completely normal, dirty) thoughts.

You pull your tights off of your ankles, blush at the idea of being sequestered in a car with him in your underwear, and leap to replace them with a pair of tight, pinstriped trousers, shrugging into them with great difficulty. Your chest is rising and falling rapidly as you pull on your blouse, white for the best fake blood effect, buttoning up just enough to hide your bra.

Make up next. You want to look scary and, importantly, believable. You fish for the make up you'd brought and have managed to suitably brush up your dark eyes with purples to look bruised and sickly by the time Steve has finished redressing. He tightens the tie around his neck.

"You next," you say.

Steve hesitates. "I've never done any makeup before."

You don't blink. "That's okay. I'll do it for you, if you want me to."

Steve climbs closer over your discarded clothes, close enough to hear his breathing, still fast. You brush the hair out of his eyes and they find yours, the two of you sharing a private smile, though there's no one else around.

"Will you ruin my good looks?"

"You'll be a very handsome zombie," you promise.

You reach for his face.

"You need to get closer," you tell him, fingers hooked under his ear. You tilt his head to the light.

"I can't," he says.

You steel your nerves and grab onto his shoulder gently, anchoring yourself as you climb up into his lap. If he's surprised he doesn't show it, his big hands coming up to your waist. You can feel the heat of each finger clearly on your skin where he grips you and the heat of his thighs like a furnace underneath yours. You try not to brush against him, standing up on your knees.

You use your fingers, rubbing them gently in the powder shadows and then over his silky skin. Big stripes of purple, a wash of yellow around his pretty eyes. He closes them as you dab a dark red under his eyelashes. You grow closer still, your breath fanning over his face. His hand skips respectably over your back and down to your thigh, holding you up. It's helpful. It's torture. You try not to breathe too loudly.

"You have really soft skin," you say, using your thumb to spread dark contour under his cheekbone, one side of his face gaunt.

You cover your work with your hand as his eyes open.

"Yeah?" he asks.

This closeness. Suddenly, abruptly, the feelings you're trying to push down rear their heads, and the heat becomes hard to ignore.

"Yeah," you murmur, thumb under his eye. He looks ridiculous. You know you look the same.

"Am I done?" he asks. His hand squeezes your thigh as he adjusts his hold.

"Not quite," you say.

You finish his makeup in silence. Time slows. You forget that you're late, content to feel his features under your hands, to learn the planes and dips of his face for the first time like this. You tuck his hair behind his ears carefully, smoothing back his hairline.

He's looking up at you. You sit down in his lap and he moves his hands to behind your back, his head following you down intently. He looks serious.

You draw your hand from his face and drop it onto his thigh, your rings brushing over starchy slacks.

It's his turn to touch you. Steve's hand comes to your face, his broad palm over the entirety of your cheek. You wait for something though you're not sure what, frozen with apprehension, simply watching him take you in.

"Do I look scary?" you ask, eyes on his lips.

They part before he answers, like he knows what he's going to say before he says it. "Horrifying," he murmurs wryly, hand gently pulling your face towards his.

You lift your chin to meet his lips, the muscles of his forearms shifting against your chest as he cups your face in both hands, guiding you to him. Your lips touch, tentative at first, one small kiss that feels more than warm, a homely, perfect fit. He pulls back and you don't, tapping the tip of his nose with yours until he opens his mouth.

You sneak in as his hand runs down your neck, your arm, slow and sleek. He makes a small sound as he takes the lead, opening you up, and it tickles your lips with its vibrations. He sounds content. You're feeling similarly happy, grabbing at his hand where it holds your face, squeezing his wrist to hold it in place as you push yourself into his arms. He takes you eagerly, pulling you chest to chest.

His head bumps the window. You pull apart, panting and happy and giggling, your lips damp and tingling. Steve rubs the back of his head, looking at you with an expression you can't describe.

"What?" you ask, wiping at his bottom lip with your thumb where your lipstick has stained him.

"How come you're so pretty, even like this?"

"Like this, a zombie?" Steve nods slowly. "Let me know when you find out, Harrington."

He pulls you back in with a smirk that sets your tummy aflame. "You think I'm pretty?" he asks, lips a millimetre from yours.

"Super pretty," you say, and kiss him. He loves on your top lip like you've got all the time in the world, kisses warm and slick. "Almost as pretty as me," you say between them.

He slows your kisses, gives you one last peck over your burning mouth. "No one's as pretty as you," he says agreeably.

You beam. Steve beams back though it quickly fades as he brings his arm up to check his watch.

"We're so late," he says, manhandling you off of his lap with an apologetic grimace. "C'mon, we still gotta cover you in blood."

You both get out and Steve sprays you down with fake blood. You laugh as he does, the cold liquid tickling your skin as it trickles down your face and your chest and your tummy.

Steve takes his own bloodying with far less laughter though he smiles at your glee. He's so handsome you can't help it, stepping into his space for another kiss. There's blood on your lips, evidently, as it transfers to his.

"We need to go," you say, like it's his fault.

"Wait. I have something for you."

Steve opens the driver's side and takes a small object from under the seat. He hands it to you.

"I called in a favour. Dustin and Lucas fixed it up, I checked, like, ten tapes. It works."

In your hands the bane of your existence, your faulty Walkman. There's a fake blood mark in the shape of his thumbprint on the side and you decide you're going to leave it there forever, looking to him with a completely uncool amount of affection.

"Steve," you say happily, a heat behind your eyes.

"I got sick of seeing you pouting, that's all," he says hotly, crossing his arm over his chest. "Now you can stop sulking."

You throw your hands around his neck to hug him tightly, the Walkman pressed to his neck. He oomphs, hands flying to your sides. Your face against his shoulder, you curl a strand of his brown hair around one of your fingers. "Thank you." You dot a corn syrup kiss against his throat. "You're the coolest," you say as you pull away.

His hands move from around your back to your shoulders, holding you at arms length. "People have said that about me."

"I bet."

𓆩❤︎𓆪

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