#Latina! reader

[vanillawurld]

༊*·˚West Coast

✧.* Pair - Miguel O'hara x Fem! Reader

✧.* Tags & Warnings - Smut, a little bit of fluff, swearing, kissing, teasing, fingering, sexual choking, slight spanking, degrading and praising, unprotected sex, Y/N's on the cream team, private sex (you'll see what I mean), crying, and creampie. (let me know if I missed anything)

✧.* Summary - Every spider-person in the building assumed that Miguel had left the building to complete a mission since they were unable find him, but little did they know he was too busy secretly fucking his favorite girl behind closed doors...

✧.* Extra - Reader is hinted to be from the West Coast of the U.S. Reader is hinted to being Latina. Reader is hinted of being a variant of Thena from the eternals. Miguel is a tiny bit out of character (and by that I mean a little bit nicer).

✧.* Word Count - 2,256

Miguel never really saw or thought of himself getting close to anyone. It's canon that every time a spider person gets close to someone, they get put them in an immense amount of danger. That's the sole main reason why he never wanted to get close to someone. Until he met her.

"You know Miguel, you're so negative. Why can't you have fun for once?" Y/N asked.

Miguel just ignored her snarky comment. He always said he didn't have time for stupidities and that he had too much work, he couldn't be distracted. There are some moments that people would think he was absent from the building because he's always locked in doing his multiverse work. and this was one of the times people thought he was away.

"Hey, come on. You need a break. You look like you haven't slept in day-"

"That's because I haven't." Miguel interrupted Y/N in an angry annoyed tone.

Y/N just looked at him and furrowed her eyebrows, " Ay, pero no te 'nojes. I'm just suggesting what's best for your health."

"I don't have time for your dumbass comments, Y/N. If you don't have anything useful to say, then don't say anything at all." Miguel replied and continued looking at different scenes from different dimensions.

Y/N just stayed quiet and sulked in the chair she had set next to Miguel. She hated when Miguel would get mad at her, especially if it was her fault. But oh how she loved how hot he looked. Her stomach would twist in guilt at him yelling at her, but she couldn't deny that she would get a little aroused.

A few minutes went by of pure silence. The only noise being made was the noises Miguel's devices were making. Y/N looked up at Miguel and smiled.

"You know, down on the West Coast, we have this saying... How did it go again? Shit, era como 'Late afternoon on the West Coast ends with the sky doing all its brilliant stuff.' " Y/N said. She missed her home in the West Coast. She missed the beautiful beaches and sunny skies. Miguel just looked at her and smirked just a tiny bit. He had forgotten she was pulled from the West Coast. He pulled a chair behind him and sat down to face her. "The West Coast, huh? Escuché que es muy bonito ahí."

Y/N's eyes went wide at him saying that. "Nunca has ido al West Coast?!"

Miguel only shook his head.

The two sat and talked to each other for quite a while to the point where they ignored anyone who tried calling them form their little watch devices. It was strange. Having a full civil conversation with Miguel without him insulting her or getting mad at her was very peaceful to say the least.

The tall male couldn’t deny that he enjoyed his conversation with Y/N. He always admired how courageous she was on her earth. For the love of Aphrodite, her hero name is inspired by the goddess of war and wisdom herself, Athena!

After the two stopped talking, they just looked at each other. Y/N’s eyes gleaming, attracting Miguel.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He whispered.

"Like what?" she innocently said to him.

Miguel stood up from his chair and got closer to the girl. He grabbed her jaw and leaned in, analyzing her face. She was a pretty girl, no doubt. He saw how some of the spider-people would stutter when speaking to her or how they would find anything to compliment her, whether it was her pretty eyes, funny jokes, or elegant fighting skills. They would do anything to make her smile.

That's what pissed O'hara off the most. He always told himself that he was just angry at other bullshit that was from a mission, but the little voice in the back of his head would be telling him he was angry because he was seeing other people trying to get to Y/N. That little voice was always the loudest. Miguel got tired of just staring at her. Their faces were so close to each other. Both O'hara and L/N closed the gap between them and started kissing like crazy.

It was sloppy.

The kiss was sloppy. They didn't have time for all of that slow lovey dovey bullshit. They needed to taste each other. Y/N stood up from her seat to fully experience the messy kiss. Lips moving aggressively. Tongues being shoved down each other's throats. Hands were wandering on each other's bodies.

Miguel pulled away from the kiss and made Y/N sit on a counter so he could stand in the middle of her legs. He started leaving small pecks on her lips all the way down to her collarbone. He loved hearing her whimper. It turned him on even more.

He started stripping her out of her clothes. He needed to see her in all of her glory. Y/N got a little embarrassed at the fact she was fully naked and he was still in his spider-suit, so she rested both of her hands on her private area to cover up a little bit. But Miguel didn't take that reaction very lightly.

He forcefully took her hands away from in between her thighs and slightly bared his fangs. "Don't try to cover now, slut." Miguel snarled.

"It's not fair that im all naked and you're not..." she said in response.

Miguel smirked and stepped back. He started to take off the top half of his suit. His buff figure was insane to Y/N. It's like he was molded by the gods. Miguel went back to kissing her collarbone, but this time his hands started wandering down to her most sensitive area. His fingers immediately started rubbing up and down on her wet pussy, making Y/N whimper.

Miguel looked at Y/N's face and gave her a smug smile. He needed to see more. He immediately shoved two fingers inside her wet hole and started fingering her, loving the sound of her arousal and moans.

"Te miras muy bonita, moaning for me." he whispered in her ear.

Miguel made Y/N fall into tiny pieces whenever she's with or around him. She couldn't help it. His broad strong shoulders and muscular back made her melt like ice cream and his muscles made her face warm like the morning sun.

Y/N's erotic moans made Miguel solid hard. The more she moaned, the faster his fingers kept going. She kept getting louder and louder. She couldn't take it, she needed him inside her, pounding into her like a crazy man and Miguel knew she needed him. He just loved to tease her.

"Miguel, please. I need you."

"What do you need exactly, princesa.

"I need you to fuck me~ Use me however you want~ I'm all yours..." She moaned out.

Miguel pulled his fingers out and stuck them in Y/N's mouth, making her taste her own arousal. He groaned at the sight of her sucking on his fingers, looking at him with those precious eyes that were begging him to fuck her.

He pulled away from her mouth and started taking off the bottom half of the spider suit, leaving him in his underwear. Letting his pretty girl in front of him drool at the sight of his bulge. He pulled out his hard cock and started stroking it a little bit in front of her, teasing her a bit.

"Get off the fucking table and turn around." He demanded, to which Y/N willingly complied to.

He forcefully grabbed the back of her neck and made her bend over, making her whimper at his strength. He lined the tip of his dick on her pussy and slightly pushed in. He knew what he was doing. Don't get him wrong, he wanted the same she wanted. He wanted nothing more to just pound into her until she forgot her own name, but he loved to see her all worked up.

Y/N started backing up a tiny bit so she could feel more of him inside her, but Miguel didn't like that. He slapped her ass cheek to make her stop, making Y/N moan at the impact. "You can't wait to get fuck, huh chiquita? You want me to fuck you? Yeah?" he teased.

Y/N whimpered and kept telling him yes. "Please fuck me, I need you inside m-" she was cut off by her own pornographic moan since Miguel shoved himself inside with no warning. He groaned at the feeling of her walls hugging his dick so tightly.

He started pounding into her, making her moan loudly. He suddenly remembered that people in the building thought he was absent from the building, and if they hear Y/N's sweet moans from inside his working headroom, they will know something is up and barge in. Miguel leaned forward and grabbed Y/N's throat and pulled her upper body towards his chest.

"Shut the fuck up. I don't need anyone barging in on me fucking you. Unless you want that to happen since you're moaning so fucking loud like a whore." he groaned in her ear. Y/N could only moan in response. The pleasure she was feeling in her body was too good.

"No? You don't want to listen?" Miguel started pounding into her even harder, making her scream in pleasure. The pleasure was starting to become too much for Y/N to the point where she started feeling tears build up in her eyes. Her vision started to become blurred so she closed her eyes and felt the tears fall from her eyes.

"You're such a good girl, baby. Taking me so well like a fucking slut." He praised. He started to leave little kisses on her cheek and had his unoccupied hand travel down to rub her puffy clit. He looked down to watch his cock disappear and reappear with every thrust he made and with every thrust he made, he realized Y/N was creaming more and more. To the point that it started reaching his fingers that were rubbing her clit.

The sight of Y/N creaming made O'hara's thrusts more aggressive. His groans started to become louder and louder. Everything was going smoothly and full of pleasure until Y/N's little watch started ringing, indicating someone was calling her. Miguel's thrusting didn't slow down though, he didn't care.

"Answer it." he demanded.

Y/N's eyes widened, "B-But-"

"But nothing, answer it or I'll stop fucking you."

Y/N's shaky hand pressed the button to answer the call and answered it like how anyone would answer a regular phone call. "Y/N, it's me." A voice called out.

Ben.

Ben fucking Reilly.

The Spiderman that would take his flirting with Y/N a little too far for Miguel. "H-hey Ben! Is there a r- oh fuck - reason why you're calling?" Y/N tried answering without sounding suspicious.

Ben let out a dramatic sigh, "Yes, there is actually." He dramatically said. Ben was a very dramatic Spiderman. Some spider-people would call him a wannabe anime character from how much he exaggerates things.

"Well what is-" "I just wanted to-" they both spoke at the same time. Ben let out another dramatic sigh, "Y/N, please. Don't interrupt."

Y/N brought her hand up to her mouth to try and hide the moans she wanted to let out so badly. "Y/N, I wanted to call you and ask you out on a very amazing date. I think you are the woman of my dreams and I need a strong woman like you by my side." Ben dramatcially said.

That was the final straw for Miguel.

Miguel gripped both of his hands on Y/N plump ass and started pounding into her even harder, making Y/N's tears come down even more. Y/N's grip on her mouth tightened even more, in fear of letting out a moan and ruining everything.

"Is that a yes or a no, princesa," Miguel whispered as he smirked. He forcefully took her hand off her mouth for her to answer. Y/N didn't want Ben to know Miguel was drilling into her. That would be so embarrassing.

"I-I'm sorry, Ben! I can't t-talk right now" she tried her best to say. Ben let out another dramatic sigh, "But why, Y/N?"

"Because she's busy," Miguel said out loud. He pressed the hang-up button and continued his vicious pounding. Y/N began to feel a strange but pleasurable feeling in her abdomen and so did Miguel.

"Fuck, Miguel~ I'm gonna cum~"

"Yeah? You wanna cum, baby?~" Miguel teased. Y/N moaned in response and didn't have time for his teasing. She let out her final erotic moan and came. She came all over his cock. Miguel came shortly after and filled Y/N up with his load.

Miguel groaned and let his upper body softly lay on Y/N's back, giving it little kisses. They stayed like that until their gasps started to slow down. Miguel pulled out and watched as his cum started coming out of her pussy. Running down her thigh and some even dropping to the floor. He smiled at his accomplishment.

"Okay, are you two done now!? I have some very important data I need to run and I've been waiting patiently!" a voice said, making Miguel and Y/N snap their necks to the right to see the iconic female hologram.

"Lyla, you scared the shit out of us, a-and why are you turned around?" Miguel asked confusingly.

"Because I don't want to see both of you naked! Hurry up and get dressed I need your monitor to run some data!"

˖◛. *. ⋆ Vanilla Speaks

Can you tell that i like lana del rey

also me fighting the urge to add Salvadoran slang because I'm salvadoran...

+ Ay, pero no te 'nojes - Oh but don't get mad

+ era como - It was like

+ Escuché que es muy bonito ahí - I heard it's very beautiful over there

+ Nunca has ido al - You've never been to

+ Te miras muy bonita -You look very beautiful

+ princesa - Princess

+ chiquita - little thing/ little one

[itsfairly]

I loved your latina reader fanfic's so much (especially since I rarely see any and I thank you soooo much)!! So I was wondering if you can write another Nanami fanfic with a latina reader in which she shows him to her family (when they are both attending Jujutsu high as teenagers?). Her mother is a bit skeptical, like all latina mothers are but loves Nanami!

Meeting Over Dinner // Teen!Nanami Kento x Latina! Fem!reader

word count: 3.3k

cw: teen!nanami, fem!reader, teen!reader, established relationship, fluff, untranslated Spanish (like four lines or less), not proofread, use of reader as a name.

summary: Nanami and you have been dating for a while, which means that eventually, you have to bring him to your parents. Yet, everyone knows how parents can be quite picky about their children's partner when meeting them for the first time.

a/n: this took me a while to write, but i am so excited since this is my first ask! thank you @erigaur for dropping a message and for enjoying these latine!reader fics, i enjoy writing them as well! this is also my first time writing for teen!Nanami, so a couple of first happening today with this one. Hope you all enjoy this one!

liked this? show it with a like, reblog, and/or comment. each is greatly appreciated and celebrated!

There comes a time that every person in a relationship fears—meeting your partner’s parents and having your partner meet your parents. Unfortunately, you and Nanami had reached that point and you couldn’t avoid it any longer from your side.

It took a while before the two of you even became a couple due to how different your cultures were. Whereas his culture was pretty restrained and his reserved nature did not make his feelings easy to see, your culture was indulgent and it made you seem like a social butterfly, trying to strike up a conversation whenever you could rather than someone who had a huge crush on him. Neither of you noticed that glint in each other’s eyes that appeared every time you talked. Lucky for the two of you, Haibara did and decided to play matchmaker.

He saw the way Nanami would try to talk to you when all students hung out despite always keeping to himself in such outings and the way you would always offer your food to him first without fail. Most importantly, he saw the way you two always denied your feelings for the other with that same glint. It took a few sneaky moves and the help of his seniors, which was basically stopping Gojo from teasing the two of you when alone, but eventually, you and Nanami started dating.

But dating was a special topic in your family. One that you were constantly reminded of every time you had a family reunion.

After countless times of hearing your aunts asking you “¿y el novio?”, you were finally able to say you started seeing someone. Least to say, your family became curious the minute you revealed this information and not only started to ask you about him but also teased you. You would talk about your day and they would see how you smiled when you mentioned Nanami. They would tease you with squeals and knowing glances at how smitten you looked. You would tell them you were going out and suddenly you had a billion questions regarding your plans with your boyfriend. After a couple of months, they knew you were getting pretty serious about this boy, turning the teasing into nagging about when they would meet him.

Not wanting to prolong the inevitable, you invited Nanami to have dinner at your house, which brings us to this moment with you and Nanami walking to your house. You were quite surprised at how collected he seemed to be about this, which assured you that things would go smoothly since he has always been able to hold his own. However, on the inside, Nanami was freaking out. He wanted to make a good impression on your parents, especially your father. He really really liked you and knew he had to show your father that he was worthy of dating you.

“Listen, if at any point you feel uncomfortable, just tell me. I’ll keep you up with whatever they say in Spanish but don’t think too much if they speak it. They are just more comfortable speaking it.” You told him, a small crease on your forehead as you prepared him for his whole dinner.

Nanami sighs, looking at the door before him. Though he was nervous, it was more obvious how you kept repeating the same warnings that did nothing but grow those nerves of yours the more you went around in circles with your thoughts. He places a hand on your shoulder, giving you a small squeeze.

“I’ll do my best to show the best me, okay? You don’t need to worry about me embarrassing you.”

He was really sweet in trying to assure you. But to you, Nanami was not the one you were worried about. But you didn’t want to give him any more reasons to worry him now that the two of you were at the steps of your front door. Instead, you flash him a small smile, finding some comfort in his words from how he is trying to calm you down. It was sweet. “I know you won’t. Just don’t let their words get to you.”

You open the front door, making your way into your home and holding the door open for Nanami. Taking a deep breath and putting a smile on your face, you announce to your family that you’re home.

The two of you leave your stuff by the front door, making your way to the kitchen where both your mom and dad are busy preparing dinner. When they hear your voice, both of them turn to look at you with a smile on their faces, putting the utensils away and cleaning their hands before making their way to greet you with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Nanami watches your parents greeting you home with such warmth that it suddenly makes sense why you are so sweet and lively even during the worst days. Because you came home to such a caring atmosphere. It made him feel nervous, on the other hand, because he was not used to such greetings that seemed too touchy for his liking. He knows that it is one of the cultural differences you have faced in your relationship, but he hopes that your parents can understand that as well as you have.

Your father is the first to greet Nanami, instantly making him feel insecure under his gaze. But the feel of the moment changes quickly when your father smiles gently at Nanami and extends his arm.

“Ah, you must be Nanami, right? We’ve heard a lot about you, it’s really nice that we finally get to meet you.” Your dad beams, his friendliness making Nanami’s earlier expectations of your father completely wrong.

He thought your father would be looking at him with a harsh glare, one that would make him tense on the spot and feel inferior to him. But here he was, relaxing his shoulders as he reached out to your dad’s hand and bowing before him as he greeted him. Maybe your dad wouldn’t be as frightening as he once thought. Not when Nanami could hear the playful chuckle from your dad when he bowed, but he shook it off since he wanted to be respectful.

“I apologize for taking so long to meet you, sir. I should’ve introduced myself the moment I was interested in your daughter.” Nanami says as he straightens up, trying his best to ensure a good impression on your dad.

But once again, your dad laughs, throwing his head back, and lets go of Nanami’s hand. “Sir? No, no. No need to go so far, I do not deserve that much respect, young man.” Your dad said, shaking his hands in front of Nanami to assure him further.

No, your dad was not who Nanami should be worried about like he initially believed. It was the woman before the two of you looking up and down his figure with a polite smile but eyes that were sizing him up the moment he came in. Your mom.

The moment you saw how your mom was looking at Nanami, you could feel your heartbeat accelerate as you tried to make out her reaction to Nanami. You knew the way her eyebrow raised every time you talked about him, impatiently waiting for you to invite him. Your mom was not thrilled to learn you were dating someone who was not Latino, mainly because she wanted to be able to speak to your partner in the language she was most comfortable speaking. Your mom didn’t know much about Nanami other than he was a sorcerer in the same class as you. She was already skeptical of him and how good he would fit into the family.

It is not ideal at all from how her eyes go to his hair first and you mentally curse. Before she could say anything, you decide to beat her to it and speak first.

“Ama, this is Nanami. Nanami, this is my mom.” You say in a cheery tone, hoping that the way your eyes kept darting between each other didn’t give away how nervous you were as you try to make out their reactions to the other.

Nanami extends out his hand to your mom, wanting to greet her with respect. But your mom was surprised when she was already standing there with her arms open, expecting a hug. She looks down at Nanami’s hand, putting down her arms and shaking his hand with a less-than-pleased expression despite her smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, miss. Your daughter talks a lot about you, thank you for inviting me to your home.” He says, his tone sounding too serious for your mom’s liking.

The bow he does after it does not really help his case either, it makes your mom flash you a look that you interpret as a he does this every time? To which you responded with a tilt of your head and a be respectful, different cultures, remember? look.

She lets go of his hand, still sizing Nanami up and not looking too pleased about it. In her eyes, he was too formal. You knew it was going to happen considering how warm your mom usually is, but you thought she was going to think of it as a sign of respect. After flashing him a smile and clasping her hands together, she tells Nanami.

“Oh don’t mention it, we were excited to meet the boy that had this one so happy.” Her tone, though still warm, wasn’t the one you were used to. It sounded as if she was distracted trying to learn everything about Nanami from his appearance and greeting alone.

Your mom turns to look at you with that raised brow you know too well and asks you, “¿y este es emo o por qué el pelo le tapa la cara?"

“Do you need help setting up the table? I’m sure food’s almost ready since we took a while to get here” You say quickly as you clap your hands together, ignoring your mom’s comment by changing the topic into something that wouldn't involve her being judgemental towards your boyfriend.

Your mom’s eyebrows jump slightly at the conversation change and it does not go unnoticed by you at the way her demeanor is borderline critical of Nanami, practically disapproving of him without really knowing him. You know she was just getting used to seeing you date someone, but you wanted her to be a bit more considerate and kind to him.

Nanami, while oblivious to what your mother said in Spanish, catches the way you so suddenly offered to help with the table. He nods and looks back at your mom, offering his help as well. “Is there any way we can help? After all, it’s only right since you went through the trouble of cooking, miss.”

Your mom looks back at Nanami, looking satisfied-ish at his words despite his formality. She nods, telling them that dinner will be ready as soon as the table is.

As you and Nanami start setting up the table with the glasses and the utensils, you look at him with worried eyes. Your mom is cautious about him, yeah, she was also pretty stuck on the fact you were not dating anyone from your culture. You know she had no ill will. It's just that every person who would meet your parents for the first time would enter an interrogation with your mom. Since Nanami was not just any person and someone you were dating, you were worried she would be harsher on him, especially as someone outside your culture.

“Hey, so,” You started, putting down the forks and knives on each seat of the table, “my mom can be a lot in these meetings. Ask a lot, say a lot, go over the line and all. What I am saying is that you don’t have to answer her questions if they make you uncomfortable.”

Nanami looked at you from the other side of the table. Tonight was different from what he expected. He didn’t know it would be your mom who he had to look out for, nor that you were this worried for him. While it did make him feel more anxious, he walked towards you after setting down the last glass, shaking his head at your words.

“Your mom only wants the best for you.” He says nonchalantly, trying to hide said nerves even though that sigh that escapes his lips snitch on him. “I’m more than okay answering her questions if it means ensuring your parents know that I care about you.”

“I don’t want you to feel pressured to answer though.” You look at him, placing your hands on the chair and gripping it to calm yourself. you couldn't understand how he could look so collected despite the nerves he felt.

“They are not pressuring me. I’m telling you I want to answer those questions. I was the one who said yes to coming, remember?” Nanami says softly, taking one of your hands and entwining his fingers with yours, giving your hand a small squeeze as he hums. “I’m not only dating their daughter, but I am also someone from outside their culture. If I have to answer a million questions, then I will answer them because I don’t want to miss my chance with this amazing girl just because I didn’t say what my intentions with her are.”

Whatever you were feeling before was gone and replaced with tenderness in your heart. You smile at Nanami, squeezing his hand back as you turn to face him completely. “You think I am amazing?”

“Without a doubt, I definitely would answer a million questions for you, no matter how weird I find them.”

As you giggle at Nanami’s words, your mom is standing at the kitchen’s entryway as she hears the two of you talk. You had that glint in your eyes, both when warning him and when hearing his compliment. You always had that glint when you really liked something, like an ice cream flavor or a toy when you were younger. But it was different somehow, more affectionate and much more hopeful. It was as if all tension left your body and that glint just affirmed such. You looked just as smitten when looking at him than when you talked about him.

Not only that, but she also took the time to look at Nanami. When he came in, she thought he felt indifferent about being here. But when she heard that shaky sigh of his when he comforted you, your mom wasn’t seeing that overly formal kid that bowed before her when he came into her house. She was seeing someone who was putting you before him, that glint in his eye as he talked to you. Your mom was planning on measuring him up, to determine whether this boy was worthy of you and cared about you. But now she wasn’t sure if her questions were that necessary. She would still ask them, but now it was because she was curious rather than cautious of him.

How could she be so critical of him when he was holding your hand so carefully? Or how he seemed as if holding your hand erased all the nerves he felt at the moment? He was just a kid and he seemed to care and feel for you a lot. She couldn’t be disapproving of him now that she saw this.

Your mom returns to the kitchen and announces that the food is ready, serving the plates and bringing them to the table. Nanami quickly offered his help to help your mom bring the tables from the kitchen to the dining table, which your mom accepted with a smile. A genuine one, not a wary one. You noticed the change in her smile, walking to her as she sat down the first two plates. But before you could ask her about it, both your dad and Nanami came back to the table and everyone sat down.

Nanami looks down at the plate before him, recognizing the smell as similar to the food that you have offered him before from your lunch. Deciding that he couldn’t let his whole first impression be based on questions alone, he decided to take a chance and looked up at your mom. With a small smile in an attempt to be as warm as she was with you, he said.

“I’m very excited to try your food, miss.” He lightly tilted his head in your mom’s direction, taking a deep breath to keep his heart from beating any faster from his worry to look good. “Reader always brings very good food as their lunch and is kind enough to share it with me sometimes. I can only imagine it tastes better when just made.”

Your mom looks at Nanami, her fork in the air as she processes what she just heard from the young man. You look at your mom and then at Nanami, whose smile starts to falter as if he feared he said something wrong or as if his comment was too much of a step for your mom. But he quickly relaxes when your mom gently laughs in delight.

“I didn’t know you had tried my food before.” She explains, placing a hand on her chest.

“Well, Reader has tried to show me more of their culture so I could learn about it before we started dating. Yet, food has always been something I enjoyed and they have shared with me the basic dishes. I have tried to follow a few recipes but I am afraid they are never as good as the lunches you prepare for them.”

It was as if a switch flipped in your mom’s brain regarding Nanami, smiling so brightly at the compliment. She put down the fork, making you and your father exchange glances at how quickly she dropped her guard at Nanami. Though the compliment certainly goes a long way, the little moment between you and Nanami from earlier was now warming her heart much more now that she knows he has tried to learn about your culture. Maybe as long as there was that dedication for her daughter, then Nanami could fit in just fine.

“I didn’t know you cooked, let alone that you have tried to cook something from our culture.” Your mom beams, her gaze softening despite her excitement as the tension leaves Nanami’s body with this new attitude. After all, he didn’t feel like he was being interrogated in the way you feared.

Dinner goes smoothly. Your mom asks the essential questions to know more about Nanami and how your relationship with him has been going so far, your dad shares embarrassing stories of you that you would’ve rather keep until after a year of dating Nanami for him to hear, and your mom offering her help to Nanami so he could get those last touches when cooking. But one constant was how hard you were smiling, you didn’t expect things to go this well. Yet, you weren’t one to complain.

Once Nanami is at the front door picking up his stuff and getting ready to head out, your mom walks up to you two and turns to Nanami.

“Thank you again for coming, Nanami. Please do come more, next time I’ll make sure to write a few of my own recipes. Maybe even come earlier so I can teach you how to make them.”

“Of course, miss. Everything was delicious and I am glad I have finally met you. I’ll make sure to keep your offer in mind for next time.” Nanami says, feeling quite sheepish at your mom’s excitement.

“Well, it’s getting late and you should probably get going. Be safe.” Your mom says, reaching out for his hand and shaking it once more.

Nanami nods and you offer to walk with him to the train station. Though before you can go, your mom gets close to you and asks you to invite him more often since she could definitely use more hands in the kitchen.

You sigh at your mom but nod nonetheless before you close the door and start walking to the station with Nanami, hand-in-hand. As you talk about tonight’s dinner, you two agree that Nanami meeting your parents was much easier than you both expected at first. After all, your mom was already nagging you to invite him next Thursday.

[rafesangelita]

₊˚⊹♡ rafe and latina!kook!reader’s insta posts of each other:

[luvaaikoo]

nicholas just gives soft dom energy

"c'mon ma," he'd whisper in a gravely tone, lifting one of his hands up to scratch his nails against the bottom of your foot that hung over his shoulder leisurely. he was doing that to annoy you. just as he had been annoying you for the past few minutes, tracing the outline of your small hole with just his tip as gently as he could, teasing you like crazy.

you whined quietly under your breath as you watched him crane his neck a little bit, placing a kiss on your dainty golden anklet before moving your foot down to put you in missionary. the wideness of his torso kept your legs spread open as he relined himself up with you.

his mouth dropped open as entered inside of you, the corner of his lips quirking up as he watched yours do the same.

he'd take his giant palm and lay it against the softness of your stomach, feeling himself harden in the area right beneath your navel. shakily, your smaller hand would reach up and your acrylic nails would graze against his skin as you attempted to get his attention.

"i know baby, i know," he shushed you as he nodded his head slightly, interlocking your fingers in his own. he'd grind himself down, relishing in the pretty sound that leaves your saliva-coated lips. with his face in the crook of your neck, he'd pepper small kisses there, tapping your lower back with his free hand to make you roll your hips up against his.

over and over and over again.

once he notices the pace of your breathing pattern pick up, he'll remind you of how good you feel, and how good you're doing for him.

"don't stop," he'll breathe out, his tongue poking out and his bangs messily falling in front of his eyes as you grinded faster. "please ma, you're killing me."

[rae-gar-targaryen]

darling, how could i fear any hurricane? [qimir/the stranger x force sensitive!reader]

Summary: Neither the backwater planet you’d chosen for yourself, nor the sanctity of your own mind, is safe from the nightly visitations of your dream stranger. Is he real, or just another trick of the mind? And what of the power he promises? Desire, he’d spoken of. Desire, desire, desire…

Pairing: Qimir/The Stranger x Force-Sensitive!reader [my reader is written ambiguously, but as with all of my reader inserts are written with a Latina!reader in mind]

Warnings: 18+ please – fingering, dry humping, the brief mention of choking, Qimir being a seductive motherfucker, relatively minor smut, all things considered. The briefest descriptions of violence; reader has female anatomy.

Word Count: 5.7k of sinful soliloquy and definitely no manipulation. No, you want this power, don’t you??

A/N: Breaking my writing drought with this. I don’t know if it’s any good, and no one asked for it. But I’m glad to be sharing my writing again. Please be gentle!! Also, if you’ve ever read my Mandalorian x princess!reader fic, there’s an easter egg in here for you!

--

The verdant planet of Vorduun was known for very little – A small, outer-world, far from the shiny Core planets that boast chrome, progress, and bureaucracy. Lush plantlife, a fertile place with brimming riverbanks, and jungles teeming and thrumming to life with flora and fauna at the turn of the seasons. Off the edge of the map. Off the edge of the world. A perfect place to hide.

To lose yourself. 

And the night is stifling, to say the least. Of all the Vorduunian summers you’d endured in your self-isolation, this one had to be the worst. The months’ long deluge of spring rains had made for a stiflingly humid summer, the green jungle steaming with sticky heat. If a saving grace was to be found in the swelter, it was that the night skies were unlike everything you’d ever beheld – a far cry from the fluorescent pollution endemic of your years on Courscant. 

Tonight's Vorduunian sky is no exception – a clear expanse of rich velvet, stars like diamonds crushed into the smooth folds of the expansive sky. Twinkling and winking richly down at you through the gaping slats of the shack you now called home. 

You twist, a serpent in your own threadbare bedsheets, attempting to find comfort in the sticky summer heat of the planet, chasing the elusive promise of coolness as you flip your pillow to the other side with a huff. 

Kind of a sick game, if you thought about it. That if you weren’t running from something, you were chasing something else. 

At present? Chasing a good night’s rest. Preferably dreamless, if you were honest. Your dreams of late are plagued with all sorts of incomprehensible flashes, feelings of being watched, feverish and hazy. Your subconscious’s foreboding certainty that if you’d only just turn around, you’d be met with a face that was not your own -– the disquieting sense of something, or someone, lurking just around a corner. Sprinting down echoing hallways with promises, greatness, a warrior's oath, all just out of reach, certain that if you’d slowed your pace, whatever was pursuing you might just snatch you, an unseen stranger.

Other nights, the dreams were different – the unflinching and unchanging grin set in a mask of metalloid teeth, baring themselves at you . Of ever-watchful eyes judging, as you forced yourself through training drills. The disapproving shake of your Master’s head, his disappointment palpable and always, always directed at only you . The seizing terror of being dropped into combat with no saber – of being skewered through by an unseen shadow with a red plasma blade. Of walls closing in on you. Of the Knights whom you had once considered your friends turning their backs on you while you fought tooth and nail. Of your lungs filled with your unreleased screams – of terror or frustration, you weren’t sure – pulling you down beneath the surface of your failure until you drowned in the disappointment of others’ unfulfilled expectations. Of hands on an unseen body tinkering with phials of something, producing poisonous concoctions of sickly green that the unseen stranger dripped down your throat, pouring them past your lips with sure, warm fingers pressing on your tongue. You swore you could feel the poison upon your waking, the phantom feeling of liquid shredding your veins with horrific heat, your heart thundering. 

Other nights the dreams were different yet, still. Of shadows shedding their inky cloak to reveal hands that caressed. Of hands that held you and wiped your tears. Of thorns falling from vines – leaving what once had pricked and scratched you to now soothe with velvety softness as the vines wound their way around your wrists, tugging you into an unseen embrace with whispers of promises humming in your ears like the tufty wings of insects. And you would go willingly. Of the warm breath of another in your ear, their body warm behind you, distinct in its softness from that of the sunwarmed cliffs the two of you would watch the sunset from, just you and your unseen stranger. Of those same metalloid teeth melting into a radiant smile of brilliant white, beheld in a sharp jaw – the critique of disapproving masters replaced by his balmy, sublime approval. 

Of the tease and taste of his cinnamon lips brushing your own, the fluttering fan of lashes along the peaks of your cheekbones. Of warm, wan whispers of want , desire , soothing your ears. Of warm, fine-boned, assured hands atop your own, guiding yours in a sensuous glide along your own skin. Promises of m ore, more, more as silken lips slipped their way along the column of your throat – your hitching gasps met with his rumbling hums of satisfaction that lasted in your ears for the duration of the following day. Of the gentle lapping of water over smooth-rocked shores, a hand grasping yours with a promise of power. Yet again of more, more, more, if you’d just … Well, you weren’t sure. 

What you were sure of was that it had been weeks of these dreams. Your exhaustion was tugging at the corners of your reality, manifesting itself into silly mistakes – a slipped knife while cutting your meals, or the prickling feeling of someone watching from the dark corner of your room. At times, you weren’t sure what was real and what was dreamscape. A slow descent into madness, torment that felt justified, somehow –-

This purgatory was clearly your penance for your failure. To atone for the fact that you could never be more than what you are now – a former padawan cast out of a renowned Order, thanks in part to her own passions and propensities, roiling rages, and lilting lust. A warrior stripped of all pomp and credential. A blistering reminder of something never to be, of someone you could never be. 

And so here you were. Piteous and exiled in the jungles of Vorduun with no one other than your occasional unseen dream stranger for company. And what of tonight? Had you slept? Were you asleep? The hazy jungle heat made it impossible to tell. When your days consist of the same, tedious routine maintenance to your little corner of jungle, purely isolated, save for irregular treks to the nearest settlement to barter … And when you tossed and turned your nights away in fitful fugue states of half-awake melded with oppressive dreams – well, who was to say what was really real?  

The ghost of a touch along your exposed shoulder didn’t merit a response … Until it happened again. Causing you to sit bolt upright in bed, eyes tracking the room for any disturbance – seen or unseen. 

That prickle, so like static rippling across your skin couldn’t be the Force. No, no. It was the trickle of sweat down the back of your neck, and nothing else. What reason would you have to feel the Force here, now? 

Just another heated night, just another heated dream….

And now, were your eyes deceiving you, or were the shadows in the corner of your room were moving, swirling into shape as a well-toned arm emerges from the darkness, raised in a gesture of … peace? And the rest of him follows, stepping into the muted illumination from your single gaslamp that sputters in the corner of your room, casting his shadow along the opposite wall, sinuous and slinking as he slowly approaches. 

You spring from your bed, eyes darting to the loose slat in your floor where you housed your ill-used saber, quickly considering the relative size of your room and how many steps it would take him to reach you, arms outstretched, to snuff the life from you before you could call the blade to your hand . 

His eyes track yours, clocking the floorboard, before placing both hands up in front of him now, a plea – 

“You don’t need that,” he murmurs, taking a tentative step toward you. And whether it was the room that shrank around you both, or that was just his presence in your space – so unused to anyone but you – you weren’t sure.

“Need what?” Play dumb, and he won't have any reason to harm you, leaving you an opportunity to strike. Your favorite trick, a minor deception for a tactical advantage.

He steps into the dim, flickering light of the gas lamp, a mild smirk blooming along his full lips, the lamplight warming his skin.

“Your Jedi weapon.”

You glance once more between the loose floorboard and the man slowly approaching you, cocking your head as his features became revealed to you, your mind tickling with recognition as you noted the sharp angle of his jaw and the baleful, syrupy darkness of his eyes –

“You,” you breathe. “I know your face.”

“Do you?” His eyes meet yours, searching. 

Yes. You had a good memory for faces, and his you had seen a few times before. Your trips to the nearest settlement every tenday for the open-air market to barter what you had cultivated from the land around your ramshackle home for fruit, thread, and other goods you didn’t often come by on your own. You had seen him at a stall selling tinctures and other apothecary-type goods. You’d never approached, of course. Hadn’t had a need for burn creams or toxins. But there was no denying the swooping lock of hair that would curtain over his eyes, the sharp angle of his features. The way his eyes would track the movement of the market, hawkish, despite the seeming ineffectual haze in them…

A minor deception, you now realize. But for what tactical advantage?

“The chemist from the bazaar,” you reply.

His lips quirk at your realization – the bud of the smirk now unfurling into a full smile. 

“You’re more observant than I gave you credit for, warrior,” he stands before you now, hands still lightly held up in a gesture of peace. “That’s good… A nice surprise ,” his voice taking on an almost-purr of satisfaction.   

You pause, lips parting lightly. What could he mean by that? 

“Qimir,” he gestures to himself by way of introduction.

Qimir. Likely not his real name. Still, you ponder, an interesting choice. Qimir. Like Chimaera, something ancient and unknowable. A monstrous creature signifying the parable of illusion – the promise of something only too impossible to achieve. You wonder if he knew what his “name” sounded like when he’d picked it.

And you hope your face hasn’t betrayed your whirring thoughts as you continue your assessment, hoping to keep a sweep of neutrality across your features as you address him again.

“If you say so. Business must be slow if you’re here to rob me, poisoner. I’m afraid you’ll be sorely disappointed,” your eyes flit around the relatively bare bedroom, gesturing with your chin to the equally Spartan main room of your little ramshackle cabin. “Not much here of value.” 

He crosses one foot over the other as he takes a step to orbit you, almost swordsmanlike. As though he were preparing to duel. You mirror his step, your back to your bed now, facing your doorway. His body between yours and your exit. 

“I wouldn’t say nothing,” he brings a finger to his chin as if in ponderment. “You’re here, after all. And why would I give you my name, show you my face, if I intended to rob you?” 

“Why you do anything means nothing to me,” you bite, “and you’ll have to forgive my manners if I don’t feel like giving you my name. Leave, now , while I let you leave, Qimir.” 

His eyes sweep your form, note your weight on the balls of your feet, bracing for a fight. You probably have weapons other than your laser sword stashed away, if he had to guess . He takes a tentative step toward you, a low chuckle escaping him at the fire in your eyes, trying not to smile any wider than he has already, to give away his pleased impression of your fury. 

“I know who you are,” you blink at his statement, trying not to let the surprise show on your face. “You don't have anything to fear from me, little Jedi.”

“I am no Jedi,” you snipped, rolling your eyes at the insolence of the man before you. If he cared at all about your rude display, Qimir said nothing.

“I am more than aware of that, too,” he murmured, his voice like silk in your ears as he takes yet another small step toward you, invading your space, close enough to breathe your air, a hair’s breadth from touch.  

Too close. You flex your fingers, calling your lightsaber from its hiding place under your loose floorboard into the palm of your hand in a flash, the cool metal meeting your palm like an old friend, a sense of relief. You surge forward into Qimir’s space, pressing the hilt of the saber into his abdomen.

“If you know so much, then you also know you shouldn’t have come,” you snarl. “I don’t know if you didn't take the hint, here at the edge of the world, but I don't take kindly to uninvited guests.”  

“You did invite me, little viper,” he insists, his voice never losing its even, dulcet quality.

At your furrowed brow, he gently brings his fingertips to brush the bare skin of your wrist that’s pressing the hilt of your lightsaber into his stomach. A familiar, prickling ripple bursts across your skin, causing goosebumps to stipple your arms. So familiar. So like the feel of lips from your unseen stranger. So like the Force. 

The dark eyes that met yours in the low light of your room were familiar for more than just an observation in passing at the market. 

“Y-you,” you gasp, the realization causing your chest to seize, to clench your teeth in the wave of seething anger. “You’ve been … in my head … for months …” 

He cocks his head at you, watching the emotions process along your face. He had seen your fears and failures, your heart’s greatest desires. He had seen it all …

“The quickest way to your heart,” he reasons. “Through your head. So you’ll have to forgive my intrusion. I wanted to know you.” Sweet words meant to soothe.  

You aren’t sure if that makes it any better. Perhaps the reasoning makes it worse.

“So like a poisoner,” you level his gaze with a steely one of your own. “To try to slip through the cracks unseen. But I know the quickest way to your heart.”

“You do?” He seems surprised at your rejoinder. As if he hadn’t expected you to play. To be so quick of wit as you were of reflex.

“Between your fourth and fifth rib,” you hum, your voice taking on an almost-seductive tone – a contradiction to the reminder of you pressing the hilt of the saber into him, precisely where you mean to. 

“I appreciate a good threat. Clever,” he smiles, placating. “But there’s no need for that, little warrior. After all… I wouldn't leave you to the dark, not like they did,” he assures, brushing his fingertips against the bare skin of your wrist, so lightly you would’ve thought you’d imagined it. Using the contact to connect to you through the Force once more – your shared memories dancing behind one another’s eyes. Of your fellow Padawans succeeding while your Master only saw failure. Of the dazzlingly white smile of your classmate with the bronze skin and twists in his hair, his yellow lightsaber flashing as you drilled together, his smile fading to frown with the rest of his features as you had used the Force to push him away a bit too hard – rage bubbling to the surface – in direct violation of your training ordinances. Of your departure from Coruscant, no one to bid you goodbye, not even your training partner who had once called himself your friend.

You make to turn your head, to break contact with his dark, glimmering, all-seeing eyes. Like tar pits, drawing you ever deeper. His other hand catches your chin between thumb and forefinger, drawing you back to his gaze, an orbit you cannot escape. Would you even want to?

“And do you believe you would have belonged? The Jedi are deceivers. They deal in abandonment … cloaked in empty platitudes,” he trails his index finger along the curve of your  jawline, an almost illusory brush of his skin against yours – the whisper of a touch, as though to illustrate the point. “The wisp of a  promise, like spun sugar. Sweet, but false, their promises of righteousness. Of importance.”

Your lips part, catching the barest bit of his thumb as it does so, your eyes now searching his, seeking motive.

“And what do you offer instead? That's what this is, right? An offer?”

He smiles wider now, nodding in the barest acknowledgment. As though you’ve finally asked the right question.

“I … make the intangible tangible.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning …” his hand leaves the curve of your jaw to touch his fingertips to your temple, pressing, rendering a vision to your mind. And what Force magic was this? To make you see beyond your own eye’s sight. Foresight? An illusion? A vision? A memory? A promise or a deception?

Whatever it is, you see it so clearly – an uninhabited plant roaring with ocean as far as your eyeline can perceive. Waves lapping gently along grey-stoned shores. Moss-covered alcoves where you sit with him, your stranger, the sunset warming your skin as he caresses your face, your hair, whispering praises just beyond your mind’s own comprehension into your ear – the tone sinful, syrupy. His arms securing you in the night as you rest, no more dreams of abandonment. 

Warmth, endless warmth… as his lips trail the shell of your ear, down your neck, bestowing belief of besotted brushes of lips. Adroit affection aimed right at the heart of you. 

“Hmmm … meaning …. Your feelings, your power, your talent all working, to manifest toward something real. Something you want.” His hand leaves your temple and rests on your shoulder, taking advantage of your state of ponderment to gently guide you, ever mindful of the still-unlit lightsaber pressed to his stomach, leading away from your bed to the wall just next to the adjacent doorframe, the patient waltz of a waiting predator. He brings his hand to rest on the wall, next to your head.

“Something I want,” you reply dreamily, coming back to yourself just enough to realize what he’d said, exhaling through your nose in an indignant little huff. “In exchange for … ?”

“Tell me something,” he replies, lithely lilting around your question with one of his own, flexing his fingers where they rest on the wall. “Why are you no Jedi?” 

“I … abjured,” you admit, a bit too primly, the lightsaber now feeling like an unbearable weight in your palm at your words, the weight of choices – both your own and those of whom purported to teach you. To guide you to something greater. Was it as he said? Were their promises so meaningless? “Broke my oath,” you suck your lower lip between your teeth, pausing before daring to meet his gaze again. “I couldn’t … suppress how they wanted me to. I didn’t want to fail anymore. I was so tired of failing. So, I … abjured. I was weak.” 

Your eyes meet his once more at your admission, yours shining with unshed tears waiting to fall like stars. Shimmering promises to slip down your cheeks, unkept and unchecked. Your fingers fumbled, seemingly of their own accord, unwilling to hold the weight, the threat, of the saber against him any longer. The hilt clattered to the floor, a clanging finality to punctuate your words. And when was the last time you had been so honest, so vulnerable with another?

How … unlike you. 

“Not weak,” he cups your cheeks with both hands, fine-boned thumbs tracing the peaks of your cheeks, as though to wipe away your unshed tears. “The same as me. Power searching for its other half. An unwaning, unflickering flame.” 

Your unseen stranger, now seen, takes your hands in his, the buzz of the Force still tingling across your skin at his words, at the recognition of his power.

“You asked what I want. You want the same as me, and I the same as you. A companion . A partner. Unlike them, I won't judge you for your feelings. Won’t judge you for your power …  You want – I can feel it rippling across your skin,” he closes his eyes, cocking his head, shivering as though to illustrate the point. “... Mmm, and I want,  too. We can want together. If you'd let us.”

The flickering light of your room seemed to dim in tandem with his syrupy words, cloying and dripping like honey into golden nettle tea. The swirling honeytar of his eyes appraising you as the Force connection prickled with hazy heat between your bodies and the damnable musk of the jungle air.

You press yourself further into the wall he’d leaned you against, tilting your chin to appraise him in kind, searching for veracity in his words. Something more substantial than the “spun sugar” he’d accused the Jedi of weaving. 

As though he could sense your trepidation before it could cross your face, he placed a hand on your hip, the contact searing you through the thin fabric of your tank top.  

“They kicked you out because you feel. I'd never do that. I want you to feel … to feel power. To feel what you’re capable of. Of what it can become. Rage. Fear. Loss. Desire. Train with me, you’ll feel it all. I want you to feel it all … to feel me.”

Desire, he had spoken of. The gentle roll of his low voice over the syllables echoing perfectly in your ears. Desire, desire, desire. That desire, so  like venom snaking its way through your blood, hot and purposeful. An all-consuming burn through your blood, befitting of a poisoner as he. 

“You felt it, didn’t you? When I came in,” he iterates, somewhere south of a plea. “All. That. Power.” The hand not resting on your hip comes to cup your face once more. “I can teach you.” 

You had read somewhere once, in the Archives, about creatures on long-abandoned planets with the ability to draw their prey in through vanity. The flash of feathers. Or shiny scales. Big, baleful eyes, perhaps. Only to sink their teeth in once their intended had come too close. 

You draw in a breath, searching his pleasing face for any sign of a tell. Of the flicker of eyes that would signify deception. Of hidden fangs beneath his beautiful, full lips. Of anything that would bely his true intentions behind your Force connection. You swept your eyes across broad, defined shoulders, down toned, muscled arms exposed through his sleeveless shift. A warriors’ weapon wrapped in a pleasing package, to be sure. But … with no discernable hint of false suggestion. 

You shift your weight once more onto the balls of your feet, away from the wall and into him . Continuing your appraisal as you tilt your head, allowing the scent of his skin – the tang of sweat from the humid jungle air commingling with something sharp and clean – to wash over you. 

You invade his space now, leaning into the hand that grips your hip and the other that cradles your head, boldly brushing your lips along his with the barest hint of touch, feeling his lips smile against yours.

You whisper, your lips silken against his, “Tell me, poisoner … You seduce me with lies, is that it? You wish for me to call you Master? Forsake all else to worship at your altar?” 

You catch the flash in his eyes as the word “seduce” leaves your lips.

“I haven't lied to you,” his voice is a hum. An attempt to provide reassurance as he couples them with what he hopes is a comforting gesture. His fingers travel from your hip to trail your ribs, a partial embrace.

“Do you consider not telling the entire truth to be a lie?” 

“Have I shown you any lies? No. Just dreams. The promise of what could be. What I –,” he pauses, “– we could be. I cannot fabricate the Force, little warrior. Everything you feel tonight is you . It’s me. What more could you want? ” 

Your once-steely resolve is crumbling under the weight of his insinuation … "everything you feel tonight” –  the honey in his words sweet to your ears, you wonder fleetingly if he'd be even sweeter on your tongue. 

And he knew you, didn’t he? By his own admission, he’d seen your faults and flaws for months … your desires. And he had shown you promises, premonitions, predilections… a future of power. And if there is power in two hemispheres – one of sweltering heat, one of blistering ice. Which were you? And which was he? 

Together you would surely melt…

“No more rules, little warrior,” he sighs, “just the power of two.” He slides his lips across yours, purposeful, before capturing your lower lip between his teeth, nipping once before releasing, admiring the way your expression flickered from defiance to desire before surging forward, pressing you back into the wall as his lips capture yours.

He swallows your gasp, bringing his fingers to wrap loosely around your neck while his other hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt. 

You break from his kiss with a gasp between swollen, bitten lips. But he gives you no reprieve, his lips trailing to your neck, where he sets about pressing hot-mouthed kisses. Molten lava flooding the column of your throat, chased with the scrape of nipping teeth. Soothe and scrape. Push and pull. Give, give, give, take.  

You thread your fingers through the silken hair tucked behind his ears, tugging him from his ministrations on your neck and forcing him to meet your eyes – to see if the blaze of want you felt scorching your skin was reflected in the liquid coal, ready to ignite. 

His lips twist into a smirk at your insistent tugging; if he was at all surprised, he didn’t show it. His face the perfect picture of pleasure. 

“What would we do with it?” You inquire, “This power?” 

“Hmmm,” he pretended to ponder, suddenly scooping you, a brief lift as he crossed the short distance to your bed, seating himself with you on his lap. No concession of dominance; merely placing you precisely where he means to. To allow you to feel him beneath you. 

“What would you like to do, little warrior, hm?” His fingers flicked the thin straps of your flimsy sleep shirt, exposing your shoulders, leaning forward to trail his lips along the now-bared expanse of your shoulder, your collar bones, your neck, his eyes glancing up to watch your face as he went. “Make them pay? Take what’s yours?” 

His hands feel their way down your form, down your sides, along your hips, the skin of his palms rasping against the smooth expanse of your thighs has his fine-boned fingers make their way beneath the loose fabric of the cropped pants you sleep in, dangerously close to the precipice of your desire , urging you to move. Guiding your hips in a rhythmic glide in his lap. 

You gasp at his attentions, at the combination of his promises and the heady feel of his skin along yours, bringing your hands to grip his biceps – desperately seeking a way to anchor yourself. 

And if it’s his poison that will bring you to the edge, would you regret it? You were starting to believe you could never regret him , not at the feel of his chest pressed against yours, the toned muscle beneath your fingers. His sharp angles caressing your soft curves, replacing the lonely ache in your bones with the lovely heat of him, both his promises and his attentions.

His mouth was keyed and intentional in its work of you, with pressed kisses like flower petals blooming along the skin of your neck, followed by the scraping thorns of his teeth. Brutish and beautiful, as his fine-boned fingers crept to the inside of your thighs, rubbing along your clothed center, intensifying the ache you felt. He shifts your weight in his lap, causing your legs to spread wider, straddling him lowly as he tugs the offending fabric aside, guiding your hips into a roll over his clothed lap and his growing hardness. Manifesting his delight at the choked gasp you emitted in the form of a teasing little buck of his hips, guiding you down as he guided himself up, delighting in the sharp gasps that met his ears as he continues to sway you to his rhythm. 

“Desire isn't a sin, little warrior,” he breathes the words into your mouth, lips a hairs’ breadth apart, the better to swallow your moans. “What we feel feeds our connection to the Force, gives you strength ... If you know how. Let me show you. Touch me.” 

It was as though electricity was crackling, popping beneath your fingertips as you took his instruction and began to explore the expanse of his body, slipping your hands beneath his tunic to feel the silken heat of his firm torso, the ache within you mounting at the heady combination of the feel of his skin beneath your fingertips – so long since you’d touched another, been touched – and his hardness between the cleft of your thighs. Smoldering, low-heat burned along your skin and beneath your fingertips. Or was it his fingers that were doing the burning? It was hard to tell where he ended and you began, one arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you bodily into him, an infinite loop of power and pleasure.

As you continue to touch him, you could feel it – his connection to the force, strong, volatile, like lightning striking the ocean – crackling and formidable like the man who contained it.

And Qimir – you had long since given up trying to determine if it was, in fact, his real name – rewards you with a gift of his own, the velvet rumble of a groan of pleasure emanating from his throat at your touch. A sound of syrup and satisfaction. 

Pleased that you could garner such a reaction from a being as powerful as he, you smile, boldly meeting his lips with a kiss, opening your mouth with a gasp, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth, to taste the zip of power that he had determined in his moths of observation was just you, a torrent of citrus drizzle, bold and sweet. 

Reluctantly, he parts his lips from yours, ducking his head to tug the straps of your top down with his teeth, exposing your breasts to the heated air of the room. And if your desire at the repeated rolling of his hips beneath yours wasn’t enough to do you in, you figured this might. Bathing in the celestial feel the press his lips to your nipple, tongue swirling over the peaking flesh. Pleased at the goosebumps that erupt now in the wake of his attention. 

While he continues to tease your breasts with tongue and teeth, Qimir guides his other hand along your thighs, slipping his practiced fingers beneath your shorts, delighting in the wetness he was met with, basking  in the jolting shiver the motion elicited from you, at the friction of his fingers rubbing along the seam of you – causing you to wiggle, to roll your hips into his touch. 

And oh, as he slips his fingers inside of you, your eyes roll back, tilting your head to allow Qimir to admire the curving, elegant slope of exposed throat – prey before a predator, gasping at the pleasure he wrought. Breathless. If you thought he was teasing you before, his fingers inside of you were their own type of mocking punishment, well aware of his effect on you and the way your cunt throbs as he strokes inside of you. You could do nothing but wriggle your hips, whimpering piteously and attempting to roll your hips to follow his fingers as they work you, as this crescendo builds.

“Say you’ll be mine, warrior, and you can have it.” he promises. A new oath. One you’d never forsake. For him, you’d never turn, never abjure. Not so long as his touch made stars erupt behind your eyes, not so long as his lips dripped syrup promises down your throat.  

Kissing you once more, golden and slow, molten and revelatory as he works his fingers inside of you, your thighs parting to accommodate him. His thumb rolls repeated brushes over your clit, delighting in the starshine burst as you reached your peak, a broken little moan that sounded suspiciously like the word “master,” passing your lips in a keening sigh. 

You regard him through bleary, closing eyes and the warm, citrus haze of your orgasm as he slips his fingers from you, guiding you down to recline in your bed, stroking your hair as he does so, lulling you as a lover would. 

“Sleep, warrior,” his velvet voice meets your ears, lyrical and lilting. “I’ll be back for you.” 

And like each night before that one, his figure slips from you… as though he was never there. It wasn’t a dream, was it? It was hard to tell after months of this teasing game. After his promises built so much only to guide you to this release. 

And in the silvery light of the jungle’s dawn, you awoke with that very question on your lips, met with the sight of your saber placed gently on your little bedside table as opposed to its usual hiding spot. You wake to the sweet afterache of something between your thighs, to the scraped marks of teeth along the expanse of your neck. 

And to the promise of something – of a future of power and partnership. If only you’d be so bold as to accept it. As you eyed the saber, you recalled the prickle of his Force power along your skin, increasing with his proximity. And by the time he arrived to meet you again, you knew what your answer would be … 

--

tagging:

@phoenixhalliwell @withahappyrefrain @inklore @spiderispunk @flightlessangelwings @joannasteez @gretagerwigsmuse @kalliravenne @mxgyver @princessphilly @s-u-t @ohmagawd-life @maryannsstrawberry @themultifandompictureshow @kallista-diune @crypt-keeper-soul @monlight-prose @joaquinwhorres @bobfloydsbabe @themarvelousbee @soulores @moonyslove78 @sio-ina-bottle @theradioactivespidergwen @drew-garfi @thegirlwhowritesfics @lady-morrigen @flordeamatista @forever-rogue @aphrogeneias @withmyteeth @superhoeva @pettyprocrastination @mortwig @petcr3

[elliesgaythoughts]

you and trans!ellie almost getting caught.

warnings: rough sex, face slapping, use of the names princess and daddy.

dom!ellie x desperate sub!reader

Ellie is pounding into you, your body jerking with each of her thrusts, her palm on the arm of your sofa and heavy huffs leaving her lips with each snap of her pelvis against yours “ahh fuckk” your nails are buried into her shoulders as you squeeze onto her dick that has made home in your womb “don’t stop” you squeal.

“yeah, take it, fucking take it” her palm gently smacks your face and holds it still as her tongue greedily slides into your mouth, tasting each fucking desperate whine that leaves your throat.

her dainty fingers slide down and wrap around your neck as her eyes meet your ones that attempt to roll to the back of your skull, the way you are clenching around her tells her everything she needs to know as her cocky smirk creeps onto her lips “you gonna cum?” you nod, eyes watering “yeah, you wanna cum on my dick princess?” your body is moving restlessly, writhing beneath her “mhmm g-gonna cu-” your slutty whines are cut off when you hear your mothers keys click through the front door.

ellie freezes “fuck, fuck fuck fuck” but you couldn’t care less, if she came home early, you needed to cum “don’t stop” your hips buck up, making a low groan leave ellie’s lips as you fuck back onto her, her palm landing on your belly in an attempt to still you. “please daddy” you beg but you can already tell the decision she’s came to “I’m sorry” she mouths with soft eyes.

She pulls her dripping dick out of you and tucks it into her waistband sighing softly, as she pulls her shirt over it, you pout, your hand reaching out for what belonged to you but she smacks it away “nooo” she whines, your arms wrapping around her shoulders “please daddy, I was so close” Ellie’s eyes well with tears because all she wanted to do was make you cum “fuck” she whispers to herself “just gimme a minute baby, please” she fumbles with your white lace thong, pulling it up past your thighs until it meets your soaked unsatisfied pussy, giving it a gentle pat, causing you to whimper as you button up your top while, she straightens your skirt and fixes your hair just in time for your door handle to turn and your mother to walk in “hey”

@williamellieslilho @yourelliewillms @bready101 @moonalumi @heygrimace @pascals-doll @infiniteinquiries

[adrienneleclerc]

Bitch, Whats For Dinner?

Pairing: Lando Norris x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Lando sees an old TikTok resurfacing and decides to prank his girlfriend for a quadrant video.

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: this was originally going to be a Logan Sargeant fic but then I thought “what does he have to gain from this?” So I switched to Lando.

Since it was summer break, Lando decided it was time to film a video for Quadrant. He went to his gaming room to film the beginning.

“Since I am not racing for another few weeks, I thought what better time to prank my lovely girlfriend than today. There’s this TikTok posted by Dusten Conti where he says to his girlfriend ‘bitch, what’s for dinner?’ And his girlfriend actually answers him so sweetly. Knowing my girlfriend, she will not act so sweetly to me calling her a bitch, but I want to know how she reacts.” Lando said.

Y/N was out grocery shopping for dinner so Lando hid a video camera on a shelf, pointing the camera to the kitchen. She came home 10 minutes later and Lando decided to wait until he heard music playing because that means Y/N is on the preparation stage of cooking (chopping ingredients). Lando got out of his gaming room, observing Y/N chopping onions and tomatoes on the cutting board, singing along to whatever song she was playing. Lando made eye contact with the camera before saying the words..

“Bitch, what’s for dinner.” Lando said. Y/N put the knife down and looked around the apartment. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to see if there’s another person I don’t know about because I KNOW you did NOT just call me a bitch.” Y/N responded and picked up the knife. “So leave, come back, and try that again.” Y/N said, moving the knife as she talked. Lando did just that.

“What’s for dinner, baby girl?” Lando asked and Y/N smiled.

“That’s much better, fresita. I’m making bistec encebollado, It’s steak sautéed in onions and tomatoes with white rice. We can add a fried egg to it and make it ‘a lo pobre’ if you want, that’s how I’m eating it.” Y/N said. Lando hugged her from behind.

“I love you, baby girl.” Lando said.

“I love you too, mi vida, now why the fuck did you call me a bitch?” Y/N asked. Lando unwrapped his arms from her.

“I wanted to prank you for a quadrant video. Honestly, I expected you to react so much worse.” Lando said and Y/N turned to look at him.

“What do you take me for? I’m not a violent person, love.” Y/N said.

“Uh huh, I’ll believe you when you stop taking notes while watching true crime documentaries.” Lando said. Y/N hit him with a dish towel, causing Lando to laugh. “In all seriousness, if I ever end up calling you a bitch and it’s not a prank, I’ll give you full permission to kill me.”

“There are research chemicals that don’t show up in a toxicology screen. They’re the chemical cousins of drugs and since the molecules are modified, they don’t show up on tox screens unless you know what you’re looking for.” Y/N said with an innocent smile while Lando looks slightly terrified.

“You scare me.” Lando admitted.

“As I should. But I hate needles so I wouldn’t kill you like that.” Y/N said, turning back to resume chopping the vegetables.

“How would you kill me then?!?” Lando asked.

“Let it go, baby.” Y/N said. Lando went to the shelf and stopped the video from recording, placing it in his gaming room to charge,

After dinner, Lando and Y/N went to the gaming room to film the end.

“Thanks for watching, I just found out I am dating a psychopath.” Lando said and Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Please, anyone who has seen Criminal Minds would know about research chemicals and you literally gave me permission to kill you.” Y/N said.

“I didn’t know you actually thought about ways to kill someone!” Lando exclaimed.

“But now you know to never call me a bitch so, lesson learned.” Y/N said. Both said “bye” and waved to the camera. After transferring the video clips to his computer, editing the clips and posted it on the quadrant channel.

The End

Hope y’all liked it!

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Telepatía - [Part 1]

♥ next | masterlist

♥ pairing: platonic f1 grid x latina!fem!engineer!reader x lando norris

♥ smau + written (reader is lewis' ferrari race engineer)

♥ none of the pictures are mine, all were found on pinterest

♥ warnings: misogyny, swearing, and some suggestive language

♥ face claim: wolifecindy on insta & girls on pinterest

♥ a/n: I'm so sorry if my Spanish is incorrect, I'm a no sabo kid

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, and 239,384 more

yourusername visiting lew at merc

view comments

mercedesamgf1 always happy to have you

*liked by original poster*

yourbestfriend THATS MY GIRL

yourusername love you <3

user60 you don't belong in f1

user73 shes lewis' new race engineer?!

user50 can't believe they're making the seven time champ work with her

user80 no one should be surprised when they loose

user1 lose*

user12 lose* 🤡

user6 that's rich coming from a man who can't spell lose properly.

user8 I'm so proud of her

fredrikvestiofficial I'm gonna miss you as my engineer

yourusername I'll see you in the paddock freddy dw xx

user40 shes probably just a fan of the hot guys

user7 maybe you should take a look in the mirror

user10 she's literally been working in motorsports since she was 19 ffs

user9 please let the rumors be true please please

user2 y/n at Ferrari is my dream

user14 you're so pretty

user6 unrelated but where'd you get those sunglasses

user15 our queen y/n

user56 they cant seriously be trusting her as Lewis' engineer?!

oscarpiastri happy to see you again

*liked by origional poster*

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by scuderiaferrari, lewishamilton, and 946,853 more

yourusername I'm so incredibly honored to be where I am today. Ferrari has always been the dream for me. I can't wait to work with you @/lewishamilton. Forza Ferrari ❤️

view comments

lewishamilton Feliz de que estés aquí. Deseando trabajar con usted.

*liked by yourusername*

user6 LEWIS SPEAKING SPANISH 😭

user7 he's so sweet

user12 the only man ever

yourmom muy orgullosa de ti mija 💞

yourusername gracias mama te amo 💗💗

charlesleclerc welcome to the Ferrari family

yourusername can you adopt me so I'm a leclerc

alexandra.saint.mleux it would be our honor

mercedesamgf1 back off she's susie's daughter

user8 merceds' admin is amazing

fredrikvestiofficial I already miss you :(

*liked by origional poster*

premaracing congrats y/n 🎉

*liked by origional poster*

user80 I can't believe she's really their new engineer

susie_wolff so proud of you <3

*liked by origional poster*

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-Australia 2025-

"It's the first race of the long awaited 2025 Formula 1 season. Welcome back everyone," Crofty said as he camera zoomed in on the track.

"It's definitely an exciting sight to see Hamilton in a Ferrari. Not to mention his new race engineer Y/n L/n who has just moved up from F2." Martin Brundle added.

"I'm really looking forward to what the two have in store today."

"Kravitz over to you."

Ted was walking around the track attempting to speak to Lewis before the race began. He caught a glimpse of Hamilton speaking to an interviewer beside his car.

"How are you feeling about today's race?" the interviewer said, holding the mic up to Lewis.

"I'm feeling pretty confident. The car was really good in testing, we had some good pace in quali, and I'm excited to work with Y/n this season."

"Speaking of Y/n L/n, do you think it will be a big mistake for Ferrari to bring her on the team? Especially as your engineer... knowing how much is on the line?"

"She's phenomenal at what she does and I trust no one more than her to get the job done."

"Don't you think there's some other people that have more experience than she does working in motorsports...?"

"Y/n has climbed up the ranks from f4, 3, 2, and now 1 just like the rest of us. If you're suggesting that she'll be a worse engineer because she's a woman, no. She won't be."

"That's- I wasn't saying she wasn't a good engineer because she's a woman. There's always risk when bringing on a new member. I was wondering if you think the risk is worth the potential reward."

"There's of course always the possibility that your race engineer is not a good fit for you as a driver, but there's not a larger risk due to the fact that she's not a man."

The interviewer continued to stumble over his words. Lewis' PR manager walked over to him, whispered something in his ear, and they both strolled away.

The camera panned to you in your seat in the garage with your headset on, carefully analyzing the data on the screen in front of you.

"You know I've worked with a fair share of awful male engineers in my day." Martin said on his mic and Crofty laughed softly.

~

Lewis had won the first race of the season which caused an eruption of applause from the crowd. The team let you stand on the podium to receive the constructors cup in their honor. It was definitely a day for the history books.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by lewishamilton, landonorris, and 853,430 more

yourusername first place, serving face

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landonorris @/scuderiaferrari Voy a coger ella para ti

yourusername QUÉ?!?! 😧

user3 LANDO WHAT

user18 😭

schecoperez 🤣🤣

scuderiaferrari pardon?

user7 checo types like a dad 😭

user4 @/user7 that's caus he is one

yourusername @/landonorris DID CARLOS TEACH YOU THAT

landonorris @/yourusername yeah why?

fernandoalonso @/landonorris in latam you just said you'd fuck her for them

carlossainz55 I think what he was trying to say is he wants to steal you from ferrari

yourusername gave me a fucking heart attack omg

user3 I was gonna say ain't no way he's saying that on main

user17 LANDO STAND UP

user8 oh she ate I fear

user9 👑

francisca.gomes STUNNING

yourusername YOUR'E STUNNING

user2 beauty and brains

user10 not all the men bitching and moaning over y/n being an amazing race engineer

user8 she shut them up real quick

user3 women 🛐

user18 that's literally my wife

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-F1 July Summer Break-

liked by landonorris, lewishamilton, and 429,320 more

yourusername you know I'm just a flight away

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lilymhe gorgeous

yourusername you're gorgeous

landnonorris and you didn't invite me?

yourusername if you wanted you could take a private plane 🤷‍♀️

landonorris hola desde inglaterra

carlossainz55 how come you're trying harder to learn spanish for her but not me

carlossainz55 lando answer me

lewishamilton roscoe misses you

yourusername dile que yo también le echo de menos

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by yourbestfriend, landonorris, and 652,383 more

yourusername mystery man

view comments

user90 half a season in and she's already dating a driver

yourbestfriend shut your bitch ass up

user5 @/user90 you're just jealous you cant bag a driver

user1 its totally possible the guy in the last pic is not even on the grid be so ffr

user2 literally the most beautiful woman I've ever seen

user8 I love women

user9 I don't watch f1 for hot guys I watch f1 for hot girls hdsjskd

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

end notes: thank you for reading <3 part 2 coming soon

[redwinelew]

bed chem | lewis hamilton [1/3]

social media au. latina + singer!reader.

summary — a certain formula 1 driver caught your attention, and you can't help but let the whole world know about your attraction.

face claim — rosalia // yourbff — kali uchis

song — bed chem by sabrina carpenter

warnings — highly suggestive.

author's note — i put my entire soul into those thirst messages lmfao enjoy

all pictures taken from pinterest. credit to owners.

“.... from the man who started at the front row for an 11th time here at Silverstone and is on for a 9th Grand Prix win here at his home race and 15 Silverstone podiums, 12 consecutive podiums. He is the man who raises the bar, who raises the stats, who takes things into a stratospheric level and he’s only got three corners now. He can see the crowd standing and giving him a round of applause, he is ready to kickstart the celebration. Eight times we’ve said it before, here’s a ninth for ya! Lewis Hamilton wins the British Grand Prix! What a victory! Hamilton is back!”

twitter!

messages!

instagram!

liked by dannyramirez, champagnepapi and 384,252 others

ynln bed chem out 10.11 💋💋

view all 10,373 comments

user1 LET'S FUCKING GOOOO

user2 i’m seated. spotify employees are scared and asking me to leave because “the song is not out yet” but i’m simply too seated

yourbff NOT U WRITING A SONG ABOUT HIM ALREADY YN ARE U INSANE 😭😭😭😭😭😭

ynln yourbff about him? well yes!

user3 yourbff omg queen wanna spill who the song is about? 👀

yourbff user3 i think u guys can guess lol

user4 yourbff LEWIS HAMILTON???? — liked by ynln

user5 yourbff NO WAY THIS IS GOING TO BE ABOUT LEWIS HAMILTON

user6 user4 yn liked user4's comment so it's true i fear 😭😭

user5 user6 the way she just casually confirmed this lmfao she's so unhinged 😭😭

user7 does she not have any shame omfg

user8 user7 girl it's LEWIS HAMILTON have u seen him???? i would be acting like this as well lmfao

user9 user7 women can't even have a hobby nowadays smh

user10 user7 acting like u aren't worse when it comes to your celebrity crush omg let the girl live

user11 user10 CLOCK IT

megantheestallion 💋💋💋💋

lilymhe can't wait!!

twitter!

instagram!

[zepskies]

Touch Me

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-size!Reader

Summary: Dean isn’t used to how “touchy” you can be, but he never said he didn’t like it.

AN: I had the Midnight Espresso series in mind for this, since it plays on a recurring theme in that series (how the reader expresses herself), but it can be general Dean x Plus-size!Reader as well!

(In the Espresso-verse, it would take place just a few months after the first story.)

Word Count: 2K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for smuttishness. Established relationship, hint of body insecurity, but mostly fluff and feels.

It takes him a while to get used to it, the way you touch him.

Even before you two started dating, you were like this.

You’re an expressive person by nature, always talking with your hands, full body animated when you tell stories. Sometimes you’d grab his wrist playfully, or brush your hand along his back when you pass by. Or you’d grab his shoulder to steady yourself and lean into him when you had too much to drink. 

Dean liked it—all of it. In fact, he found it endearing as hell. That hasn’t changed, even after a few months of trying to figure out what this is. What you two are together, and what you could be.

It’s just that…his family wasn’t so touchy feely growing up. Hell, he can probably count on one hand how many times he hugged his dad. For Sam, maybe two hands.

Your hands are warm, even when they startle Dean a bit while he’s working on detailing his Baby. He sits on a stool low enough for him to get the grit and gravel out of the front right tire.

He jumps when he feels something slide across his shoulders and down his chest, but he chuckles, feeling you press into him comfortably from behind. Your breasts feel like a (sexy) pillow.

“You oughta wear a bell or something,” he remarks, even though he squeezes your arm in greeting, leaving a grease stain in his wake. Your smile presses against his cheek.

“Then how would I get the privilege of scaring the mighty Dean Winchester?” you tease.

He snorts in response. “You just surprised me. A little.”

“Mhmm,” you reply, beginning to lay a path of kisses along his jaw. “Need any help here?”

He takes a deep breath at your ministrations, smiling. “Got a feeling you just came to distract me.”

“Hmm, yeah,” you admit. Your lips wander down his neck, grazing the shell of his ear along the way. Pleasure laces down his spine.

“You know, I think we have yet to christen Baby’s backseat…” You tilt your head, chewing your lip. “Although, I wouldn’t dare imagine how many christenings have come before me.”

Dean chuckles again, but he turns to look at you over his shoulder with more than just desire in his eyes.

“Yeah, well, you’ll be the one that matters,” he says.

You pause, looking down at him like you’re trying to figure out if he means it or not. And he does.  

After a moment, you smile. Dean swivels on his stool and tugs you down to tumble onto his lap, into his waiting arms. You yelp in surprise, but you laugh into his neck when he pulls you flush against him by your jean-clad ass and thigh. He’ll happily get a handful of either one.

You make yourself comfortable on his lap and take his face into your hands. They're gentle, despite what they can do with a Beretta 92.

“I like this,” you admit softly. “You and me.”

Dean quirks a smile. “I’d say it’s an improvement.”

This time when he steals a proper kiss, you’re left without a smartass retort.

Even Sam notices.

The first time he does, you’ve just cooked dinner for them on a slow day. When Dean takes in the spread of pork roast with his eyes, he grins up at you with a heartfelt:

“Thanks, sweetheart," he says. "Looks awesome. Smells even better.”

You brighten with a smile. You answer him by reaching out to cup his cheek, pressing a sweet kiss to the other. You stroke your thumb across his prickly stubble, and let your hand slip down his neck and shoulder on your way back to the kitchen for the bread.

Sam watches the way his brother is a bit surprised by the contact, blinking as his gaze follows you to the kitchen. Dean smiles to himself.

Sam's lips twitch upwards as well.

Is he actually blushing? he wonders.

Dean catches him staring. He raises his brows, clearing his throat.

“What?” he asks.

Sam shakes his head and sips at his beer.

“Nothing.”

After that, Sam starts to pick up on the other little moments, like the way you sit close to Dean while researching during a hunt, your arm or your thigh brushing his. And the way you run your fingers through his hair while watching a movie together, or raise his arm so you can curl yourself up against him on his corner of the couch, threading your fingers together afterwards.

Sam shoots his brother a secret smile of amusement for that one. Dean chooses to ignore him and puts on Porky’s II on the big screen projector with the remote.

You fall asleep about halfway through the movie. Granted, you guys just got back from a long hunt, and you’re all pretty wiped. You’re just the one who succumbed first. From his side of the couch, Sam reaches for a throw blanket you bought for them and helps Dean lay it over you.

Dean happens to meet his brother’s gaze, and Sam smiles.

“Things seem to be going well for you guys,” he says quietly, so he doesn’t wake you.

Out of habit, Dean downplays with a shrug and a noncommittal sound. He brushes your hair back from your forehead, and he makes sure you’re covered up to your shoulders with the blanket. Finally, he rests his arm around your waist and shifts his attention back to the movie.

That’s when Sam knows the truth. His brother’s actions have always spoken louder than his words.

You haven’t officially moved into the bunker just yet.

Dean hasn’t brought it up, since everything between you two is so new. You’re here more often than not though, sharing his bed, making rich espresso out of your little coffee press for him and Sam in the morning, helping them even more with hunts that crop up.

Dean’s still getting used to sharing said bed. Mainly because you’re a cuddler, even after a couple of hot and sweaty rounds between the sheets.

“Ah, heeey,” he says awkwardly, when you snuggle yourself up to his side. You’ve just finished cleaning up in the bathroom and going through your twenty-something mysterious bottles of night creams.

You smell good, he can’t deny. It’s that enticing combination of lavender soap and coconutty shampoo. It infiltrates his nose as you sigh and settle your head against his chest. He curls an arm around you on reflex.

But your hair is tickling his neck and shoulder, sweat is trying to cool on his skin, and there’s plenty of room on your side of the bed. 

“G’night,” you murmur drowsily and lay a kiss to his bare chest, over his anti-possession tattoo.

“Night,” he replies, with a wan smile as he stares up at the ceiling. He goes over the options in his head. One, he can wait until you’re asleep and try to gently roll you onto your side. Two, he can just lay here and deal, even though his neck is itchy, and some uncomfortable sweat is pooling down his lower back.

Or Option Three, he can just ask you if you mind rolling back onto your side. 

After a few beats to think, he quickly concludes that Option Three is not an option.

Instead, he goes for trying to be slick. He waits until he hears your breathing even out into slumber. When he thinks you’re conked out for sure, he slowly, slowly uses his arm curled around your shoulders to roll you over, back onto the left side of the bed.

There are a couple times where he pauses, worried you’re about to wake up. You just hum and sigh in your sleep. Dean's lips purse, and he continues his mission.

When he’s successfully shifted you onto your other side, he expels a small breath of relief. Now, here’s the hard part: taking back his arm.

He goes as slow as he can while sliding his arm out from where it’s trapped underneath your soft body. Part of him feels a little guilty for what he’s doing, but he’s in too deep now.

Almost there…

Your breathing hitches, and stills. So does he.

“Dean,” you say quietly.

Shit.

He looks down, biting the corner of his lip. He’s been had.

“Yeah,” he reluctantly replies.

You turn around and raise yourself up to free his arm. You sigh through your nose, finding his sheepish expression in the dim room.

“Sorry. Was I cutting off your circulation or something?” you attempt to joke.

It seems innocent on the surface, but you’ve made those kinds of self-deprecating remarks before—about your body, your voluptuous ass, hips, thighs, and perfect tits that Dean’s spent the past few months mapping every square inch of.

He frowns. 

“No,” he says. “I, uh…was getting hot. Just wanted a little space, that’s all.”

Your face falls further, no matter how much you try to hide it. A small, proverbial oyster knife twists in his gut.

“Look, if…if you want your bed to yourself, I get it. Less room to go around,” you chuckle, again with that self-deprecating humor. It doesn’t reach your eyes. “I can find my old guest room—”

Dean’s brows furrow along with his frown. He reaches out and grabs your arm before you can even start to get up.

“Hey, stop. Sweetheart, that’s not what I said.” He tugs you back over by your hand. He raises his brows to level with you, conspiringly. “Truth is, I’ve got sweat heading toward the crack of my ass.”

Your face freezes, and then it breaks, spluttering with laughter. Dean smiles, even though he’s also a bit embarrassed.

“You literally got me hot and bothered,” he says, with a teasing gleam in his eyes. “I just need a little cool down. Else I might just wake you up for Round 3.”

You stare back at him in amusement now, tinged with affection. However, the longer your thumb brushes over his knuckles, the more that insecurity starts to creep back into your gaze. 

“You’ll let me know if I’m overstaying my welcome, right?” you ask. “I want to keep exploring…well, us, but I don’t want to smother you either.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “You got all that from me telling you I want to fuck you later?”

You dissolve into laughter again, shoving at his chest. He’s known you long enough to figure out what you need though. He grabs your offending hand and pulls you in. Then he rolls you onto your back and traps you underneath his broad frame.

“You’re not going any-damn-where. Not if I can help it,” he says, his voice deepening to a timbre that makes a shiver run down your spine.

You look up at him, your eyes shining through your lashes with desire, and deeper things too. Things that just about make him putty in your hands, whenever you touch him.

So he touches you. He cups your cheek, traces your jawline with his thumb. The pad of it smooths across your full lower lip as you smile softly, and he realizes then just how far this could go for him. He knows it’s the real deal.

That knowing warms him further and makes his stomach churn at the same time. He’s reminded of the warning he gave you before you two started dating.

“I attract a lot of crap in my life,” he admitted. “Shit you want no part of.”

You grabbed onto the lapels of his plaid shirt and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw.

“Well, that’s a stupid reason,” you said. 

“It’s really not,” Dean shook his head. “Truth be told…I’m no good for you either.”

You hadn’t given a shit about all that. He’s been trying to figure out why you took a chance on him ever since…but he knows his reasons.

Even though he still believes everything he said back then, it doesn’t change much of anything.

He’s in too deep.

He dips down and claims your lips. You kiss him back with the same fervor, sliding your hands around his back, feeling every smooth dip of muscle between his shoulders.

“Round 3?” you playfully ask, between kisses.

Dean grips one of your thick thighs and spreads your legs for him, so he can grind his hips into yours, pressing his risen length against your heated core through your panties. He earns your moan in response, and he swallows it up with a more devouring kiss. He doesn’t let up until you’re panting for breath, already squeezing on him with your thighs around his hips.

He breaks, just for a second. He gives you a cheeky grin.

“Try to keep up.”

AN: Yep, Dean tried to pull a Ross Gellar. 🤣 (AKA: the "Hug and Roll.")

I don't know why this little idea wouldn't leave me alone! I guess I just like the thought of Dean having to get used to being doted on, even through something as small as being touched affectionately. Not just during sexy times. 💖

(Also, if you've read Midnight Espresso, you'll probably notice a little excerpt from there included here.)

Anyway, I hope you liked this! Let me know what you thought. 😘

Keep Reading:

Next in the Espresso-verse is Devour Me:

Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for.

▶️ Next Story: Devour Me (Part 1)

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Midnight Espresso Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester One-Shots

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean W. Tag List:

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @iamsapphine

@roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @just-levyy

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat @lacilou @adoringanakin @midnightmadwoman @chriszgirl92

@lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @deansbbyx @sarahgracej @kaleldobrev

@mimaria420 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky

@my-stories-vault @cevansbaby-dove @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof @syrma-sensei

@mrsjenniferwinchester @charmed-asylum @k-slla @jackles010378 @deanbrainrotwritings

@alwaystiredandconfused @deans-daydream @deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @leigh70

@kmc1989 @ghostslillady @siampie @pieandmonsters @globetrotter28

@spnwoman @stoneyggirl2 @spnfamily-j2 @mostlymarvelgirl @artemys-ackles

[itsfairly]

yo hold on, i forgot Latine Heritage Month ended yesterday 🧍‍♀️ like i had a couple of fics here and there but maybe next time I'll plan something.

anyways, if you didn't catch them it's this one about Nanami and you dancing to a Latine playlist and this drabble about pan dulce and Nanami.

happy Latine Heritage Month y'all!

[rafesangelita]

౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 deciding to host the biggest house party on figure eight, you and rafe cut celebrations short after a heated game of beer pong.

warnings: established relationship, alcohol consumption, irresponsible drinking, rafe takes a body shot off of reader, unprotected sex, rough sex (?), rafe puts you in a chokehold <3, dirty talk, praise, overstimulation

wc: 1.1k

everyone knew your parties were absolute ragers, with strangers filling out every corner of your house, and the cops always shutting the place down at the end of the night, to say your parties were the most anticipated on the island would be an understatement. even now as you and rafe challenged one another in a classic game of beer pong, you were sure there was people passed out drunk somewhere. “loser has to take a body shot.” rafe walked around the table, his hand sneaking under your skirt as he passed by. he loved threatening you with a good time.

you rolled your eyes, your best friends cheering you on as you and rafe went round after round until you both only had one more cup left. rafe had a look in his eye that was all too familiar. you knew he secretly wanted to lose, the terrible throw of his ping pong ball confirming your suspicions of him missing on purpose. “aww, are you letting me win?” your smile was the epitome of perfection, your boyfriend motioning for you to go as he grabbed a bottle of tequila from topper. sure enough, an excited squeal left your lips as the little ball landed straight into rafe’s red solo cup.

rafe pretended to be disappointed, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat when he downed the last of the burning liquor. truth is; rafe wanted to get his hands, and mouth, on you since the second he saw you walk down the stairs in that pretty little outfit of yours. if losing to you meant he could run his tongue up your soft flesh and cop a feel of what was under your sequined top, then that’s what he was going to do. rafe walked over, grabbing your hand as he guided you on top of the table. the crowd burst into a fit of cheers, your cheeks heating when rafe gave you a little wink.

you laid flat against the hard surface, your fingers pulling at the hem of your skirt. glancing down at your hands, rafe cursed under his breath when his favorite thong peeked through your bottoms. “you’re in trouble.” rafe slipped off his shirt, laying the article of clothing across your lap so no one else can steal a glimpse of what was his. everyone was hollering as all eyes fell on you and rafe, nervous butterflies fluttering in your tummy. leaning down, rafe licked a stripe up the column of your throat, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss.

after what felt like an eternity, you sighed blissfully when he pulled away, wasting no time in placing a lime between your lips. “you gonna be a good sport and take this for me?” he unscrewed the bottle of tequila, your stomach flipping in excitement. “sí— yes.” as soon as that word left your mouth, rafe tipped the bottle over, the cold substance sending a shiver down your spine. topper and kelce stepped closer, the flashlights to their phones blinding your vision as rafe’s tongue flattened against your skin, the warm muscle moving all the way up to the valley of your breasts.

“no bra?” he teased, licking all the way up to the underside of your jaw. taking the lime from your mouth with his own, everyone erupted in cheers when rafe stood up, topper jumping in the air as he saved the video to his camera roll. you would definitely need to see that later. rafe helped you up from the table, making sure your outfit was in place before throwing his t-shirt over his shoulder. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit weak in the knees after feeling rafe taste your skin. wrapping an arm around your waist, rafe whispered in your ear as he guided you two back inside.

“you wear those panties on purpose?” his breath was hot against your cheek, his arm pulling you close to his chest. “no.. my first option was to wear no panties at all.” rafe nodded, a dry laugh falling from his lips. “oh, that’s cute.” he knew you were serious too, and that’s what drove him crazy. before he could say anything else, you pulled away from him, losing yourself in the sea of people before he saw you making your way upstairs, your mini skirt shining underneath the neon lighting of your house. once your door clicked behind you, it wasn’t long before it busted open again.

all it took was rafe seeing your lacey pink thong to get you in the position you were in right now; getting fucked in a headlock while rafe grunted praises in your ear.

“wrapping around me so fuckin’ tight..”

“fuckkk, you’re taking me like the perfect little slut you are.”

“this is what you wanted right? ‘wanted this pretty pussy to get pounded in?”

all you could do was pathetically repeat his name, tears lining your eyes at just how good he felt. his bicep hugged your neck, your chin wobbling against the huge muscle as sounds of his skin meeting yours bounced off of the walls of your room. with his balls smacking against your clit, you nearly screamed when you felt the band in your stomach snap. “ray!” you gasped, your manicured nails digging into his flesh as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “oh, my god!” you were jelly at this point, your limbs feeling like dead weight as rafe made no effort to slow down.

overstimulated and mumbling nonsense, you shook and trembled underneath rafe as he filled you to the brim with his seed, the second greatest feeling ever. the first being whenever he was inside you. rafe’s head rested on your back, his fingers squeezing your hips so hard you were sure to see bruises in the morning. he was panting by the time he finished, his cock still twitching with the aftershocks of his orgasm. collapsing down next to you, rafe gave you a lazy smile, both of you looking equally fucked-out.

“we should probably shut this down soon, it sounds like it’s getting pretty rowdy out there.” you sighed, snuggling into rafe’s side. “i just want to stay like this.” wrapping his arms around you, rafe inhaled the scent of your perfume. “how have you not gotten a citation yet? the cops have been out here at least six times already.” you groaned, feeling sleep pull at your eyelids. “please don’t jinx it.” as if on cue, there was a flash of red and blue lights, a siren sounding from outside. you and rafe froze. “what did i just say?!” you huffed, already dreading having to get dressed and talking to the police.

[navisakura]

Is anyone else pleasantly surprised at the sheer amount of black, latino and other poc!reader fics that have come out of the ATSV fandom? Like it’s normally so rare to find fanfics with a poc or a dark/brown skinned reader in mind but seeing so many different people integrate their culture and background into their work is genuinely heartwarming

[luvaaikoo]

𝘣𝘧 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘶𝘱, nicholas alexander chavez

pairing - nicholas chavez & latina!reader (but anyone can read)

nicholas in his youtube era

ᥫ᭡

nicholas couldn't help but shake his head, a light smile growing on his face as his girlfriend pretended to kiss her camera lens.

"hi my loves," she started, sitting back down on her couch, "today im filming with my boyfriend nicholas."

nicholas shyly waved at the camera, his face graced with a grin. "i'm nick."

the girl sitting next to him smiled herself, bringing her hand up to softly rub the bottom of his chin. "and i'm letting him do my makeup."

he pretended to make a nervous face as he looked down at his girlfriend's coffee table. she had laid out every brush and every product that she owned (which was a lot) and it was kind of intimidating. the girl let out a small giggle, her brows furrowing slightly. "what?"

"you just got a lot of stuff goin' on here beba," he chuckled, picking up one of her beauty blenders and tossing it up in the air.

she caught it in her own hands before placing it back down on the table. "had to give you options," she turned to look at him with a dimply smile, "couldn't make it too easy for you."

nicholas rolled his eyes before reaching over to grab one of her black cloth headbands.

"you be wearing these in the morning," he chuckled, shifting his body to sit facing her. the girl nodded her head, allowing him to push her hair back with the headband, the tiniest baby hairs poking out onto her forehead. he'd watched her get ready one too many times, almost knowing her little routine by heart. he covered her face in her facial moisturizer and serum, then coated her lips with the medicated lip balm she used every morning and night.

he pulled his face back to look at her. her skin was so glassy and her plush lips were glossy. leaning forward he muttered, "pretty girl," before planting a soft baby kiss on her lips, not wanting to mess up any product.

rubbing her lips together as he pulled away, the girl looked up at him. "so what're you gonna do next?" she asked softly.

nicholas blew a puff of air out from his lips, looking at the products laid out on the table as he thought for a second.

"normally you use this one," he said, picking up a half empty bottle of estée lauder foundation. "right?" his girlfriend stood silent, knowing she wasn't supposed to give him any inclinations. instead, she just shrugged her shoulders slightly, making nicholas roll his eyes once again.

he leaned down to pick up a brush, one that was not for foundation at all. his girl cringed as he dumped the product onto her fluffiest powder brush, and he stopped abruptly. "whaattt?"

she scrunched her face up, "i can't say anythinggg."

nick chuckled boyishly, sighing while swiping the brush down her soft cheeks and across her nose, "you're killing me."

he continued onto a messy attempt at contouring before moving on to pick up her bronzer.

"you always say this is your favorite part so i gotta do it justice," he half smirked, scooting up to get closer to his girlfriend. almost comically, he brushed on the bronzer onto her forehead and cheeks with a slow, feather-like pressure.

"you don't gotta be careful baby," the girl said, "it's not gonna show if you barely press down."

"just don't wanna hurt you," he muttered jokingly, finishing up his application.

he poked her nose with a blush brush, leaving the tip of it a light shade of baby pink, and proceeded to spread blush across the apples of her cheeks. he thought she looked cute like that.

"pick one," he told her in a gentle tone, a small smile creeping onto his face. he motioned his head toward her collection of lip glosses, lip sticks, lip liners, and lip oils. reaching down, she grabbed hold of a soft pink lip gloss that was coconut scented.

"you like this one," she handed the gloss over to him.

nicholas gently grabbed hold of her chin, holding her steady as he applied it onto her. his gaze lingered low as his eyes focused on her lips. how plump her bottom lip pouted out. how soft they looked. how pretty they looked now that they were all shiny.

noticing this, she puckered her lips out a little, silently asking him for a kiss.

he obliged of course, planting a baby kiss onto her lips to not mess up her makeup.

"i did good?" he asked her in a quiet tone, again gripping her face softly. he guided her face with his hand, moving it around to look at it from all different types of angles to mess with her.

she nodded, a small laugh leaving her mouth. "yeah, i love it."

fin.

[elliesgaythoughts]

glasses stay on

warnings: sub ellie, strap r! receiving, use of mommy, good girl, pretty girl, edging, sliiiight choking and that’s all i can remember right now💕 (proof read this at 5am. you know what to expect boo)

your head was spinning as you did most of the work, sweat treacling down your forehead and chest as you continued lifting your hips up and slamming yourself back down onto ellies strap with a weak whine of her name. she muttered your name under her breath in response as she practically rid the base of her harness. her heels dug into the mattress and her pelvis rocked back and forth.

“fuuuck” her head lulled to the side and a pout formed onto her lips as she slowly started to space out, her walls aching as your movements only brought her more pleasure.

“aww are you gonna cum, pretty girl?” you cooed. the blush in her face and the vein protruding at the side of her neck already giving you her answer before she stuttered.

“yes, please pl-please can i cum?” she begged as you teasingly kissed down the valley of her chest, making her wait for your answer as her legs spasmed in all directions and her thrusts against the harness slowed as she tried to stop her high from taking over her.

you hummed a “good girl” at the feeling of her movements calming for you, giving you a second to recover from how harshly you fucked yourself onto her. your ability to think slowly came back as you gripped her throat gently and pulled her face closer to yours. she rested weakly onto her elbows, her eyes on yours as you swayed your hips.

only the sounds of heavy breaths and her thick strap leaving and entering your walls was heard as you both took in the view of one another, lost in the sight of eachothers bodies.

you found it adorable how she squinted her eyes behind her steamed up glasses as she tried to focus her attention on you as they slid thurther down her cute little nose with each subtle movement of your hips that made her body jerk as she whispered pathetic little pleas repeatedly. absentmindedly.

you both slowly started to rock your bodies in sync, almost like a dance as you both creeped closer to your peaks.

the moment only broke when you picked up your pace causing Ellie to mutter something angrily under her breath about her glasses as she grunted and reached up to the frames that continusly needed readjusting from how they slid down the sweaty bridge of her nose from you and her actions.

the band in your belly was so close to snapping as your hands interrupted hers. stopping her as she went to remove the frames from her face, your previously cum soaked fingertips pushing them back onto the bridge of her nose “g-” you didn’t realise just how out of it you were until you tried to speak, your speech coming out slurred. “glasses s-stay on, princess” you smirk softly as you push them back down onto her face, accidentally smearing one of her lenses.

“yes mommy” a moan leaves your lips at the name “fuuuck” ellie just hums weakly as you she pushes her head back, deeper against her pillow, her hair sprawled across its plush.

she knows she should’ve wiped them down, knowing you were too out of it to even realise what you done but it had her clit throbbing against the harness that you pushed up against her as your movement picked up again and her whimpers raised in pitch as you brought her to the edge so much quicker this time.

there was just something so disgustingly hot about watching you ride her dick through steamed up and cum stained lenses.

she had a bruising grip on your waist as she watched your blurry form. her hips bucked and her tummy caved in, her chest rising and falling as she spoke “g-gonna fuck. I’m gonna fuckin’ cum.”

your fingertips moved frantically onto your clit “me, too. me too princess.” you whined.

her pornographic sounds were cut off as her breath hitched and her abs contracted as she used everything she had left to hold off until you gave her permission. a whisper of a “please” was all that was heard from the red faced girl as you palmed her tits, your walls squeezing around the dick that slipped in and out of you “cum with me” and ellie’s fingernails dug into the flesh on your ass as she came against the back of the harness “oh my god!” she squealed, cum leaking from her as you continued to ride her.

you ran your nails down her spasming torso, sinking them so deep that you almost drew blood “im so close” you whine, promising her she’ll only need to take the overstimulation just a little longer “fuck fuck stop” she whimpered, as her legs started to shake and her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

in an instant your hips stilled, your eyes scanning her to see if you hurt her in any way “you okay, baby?” her hand reached into her underwear, her fingertips slipping against the mess you made of her as she cupped her pussy and felt her clit pitter patter against her palm as she sighed “yeah, yeah” her eyes fell close “felt so good” she reminiced as she pulled her soaked fingers from her boxers, spreading them and admiring the how it webbed between her fingertips “fuck” she laughed.

her giggling stopped soon after when she noticed the subtle pout on your face as you tried to close your legs, her strap still buried deep inside you “oh shit babe you didn’t cum?” she was too lost in her own world to remember why you were even overstimulating her in the first place.

you gnawed onto the bottom of your lip as you hummed a sound that resembled a nuh uh and her eyes instantly softened “babeee-” but you interrupt her “it’s okay, baby.”

she rolls her green eyes “nuh uh” her voice was still hoarse from earlier.

your eyes mirror hers “uh huh” as you cross your arms.

“are you sure?” she asks with soft eyes. “yes, darling. now let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

her face blushed at your words “okay, mommy” she said knowing how the name made you feel “shut upp” you giggled.

“okay mommy” she spoke as you rolled your eyes playfully.

(you both showered together and she made it up to you in the shower. happy days. i love y’all)

@williamellieslilho @yourelliewillms @moonalumi @pascals-doll @infiniteinquiries @aouiaa @radioheadfan699 @lmaoo-spiderman @quinnister @cattjull

[adrienneleclerc]

Slam the Door

Summary: Where Y/N slams the door on her boyfriend’s car to see how he would react.

Warning: Spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: this includes Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, Oscar Piastri, Logan Sargeant, Max Verstappen, and Carlos Sainz Jr. since I am writing about them now

Charles Leclerc

Y/N and Charles were in the gas station. He filled up the car and got back in the car to get his wallet.

“Hey, I can go in pay for it, I kinda wanted some chips and a soda.” Y/N said.

“Yeah sure, Mon coeur, here’s my wallet.” Charles said, sitting fully in the car, handing his wallet to Y/N.

“Thanks, muñeco.” Y/N said, before slamming the door. Charles was startled, his face like when he hit the camera in Australia.

“What was that about.” Charles wondered out loud. “Did I do something? I don’t think I did anything, can’t be her period, she would have told me, can’t be her birthday, not our anniversary, what happened?” He could think about dome thing else since Y/N got in the car. “Why did you slam my door?” Charles asked

“What?” Y/N asked, opening her bag of chips.

“Why did you slam my door? Did I do something to upset you, or…?” Charles asked, starting his car.

“What? Of course not, it’s just a TikTok prank.” Y/N said.

“Oh, okay, but did you have to slam the door so hard, the car actually shook, Mon ange.” Charles said, Y/N laughed.

“Sorry, muñeco, I didn’t mean to. But the car is okay.” Y/N said.

Lando Norris

Y/N and Lando were leaving the restaurant, they got into his car, Y/N looked in her purse.

“La concha de su madre, I left my ID at the restaurant, I’ll be right back.” Y/N said.

“Of course, baby, be safe.” Lando said.

“I will.” Y/N said, getting out of the car and slamming the door. Lando was in shock, rolled down his window, honked his horn to make Y/N turn around, and yelled.

“You muppet! Were you trying to cause a mini earthquake?” Lando shouted and Y/N was bent over, laughing. “What are you laughing about? I’m pretty sure my phone fell in between the seats.”

“Sorry, fresita, it’s was a TikTok prank.” Y/N said, walking back to the car and showing him her ID.

“Why can’t you be one of those girls who pulls the penal where they walk in on their boyfriends naked? I’d really like that one.” Lando said, starting the car to go home:

“Because that’s not a prank, Lando, that’s your dream come true.” Y/N said and Lando laughed

“Well you’re not wrong.” Lando replied. “Can you help me look for my phone when we make it home?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Logan Sargeant

Y/N and Logan were going to leave the parking lot when.

“Shit, forgot my phone upstairs, I’ll be right back.” Y/N said.

“Alright.” Logan said. Y/N slammed the door and Logan started looking around the car and looked at Y/N through the windshield. “The fuck was that about.” Y/N walked back to the car with her phone in hand. She got into the car and Logan was staring at her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Y/N asked.

“Do you love me?” Logan asked.

“Of course I do.” Y/N said.

“Then why did you slam my door? It felt like that scene in Jurassic Park where the dinosaurs shook the whole ground.” Logan said and Y/N laughed.

“Don’t be dramatic, I barely slammed the door.” Y/N said.

“Im pretty sure there is a crack in window.” Logan said, pointing to the passenger side window.

“Haha, it was a TikTok prank, let’s go.” Y/N said.

Oscar Piastri

Oscar and Y/N were putting groceries in the trunk.

“Tiburóncin, can you start the car and turn on the A/C? I want the freezer meals to stay cool.” Y/N said.

“Sure, darling.” Oscar said, kissing Y/N before he enters the car and did as he was told. Y/N finished putting groceries away. Y/N opened the passenger door.

“Im gonna our the cart away, okay?” Y/N said before slamming the door to put the cart back. Oscar just blinked.

“That was weird.” Oscar said, Y/N got back into the car. “Is there any particular reason why you slammed my door? I told you, it’s not the store’s fault they don’t carry your pumpkin seeds.” Oscar said.

“First; they all carry pumpkin seeds, they just carry them raw or dry roasted and salted. Why the hell are there never pumpkin seeds dry roasted in their shells? Anyway, it was just a TikTok prank.” Y/N said.

“Babe, this is my company car, you can’t just slam the door.” Oscar said.

“Sorry, tiburóncin, let’s go home before our groceries start to melt.” Y/N said.

Lewis Hamilton

Lewis and Y/N were in the parking lot of the restaurant.

“Okay, loser has to pick it up.” Y/N said.

“No way, I picked up food last time, it’s your turn.” Lewis said.

“Fine, give me money to pay for the food.” Y/N said, holding out her hand. Lewis handed her over his wallet. “Thank you, cariño.” Y/N said and slammed the door when she left. Lewis rolled down his window and honked his horn, causing Y/N to turn. Lewis poked his head out the window.

“Did you seriously slam my door because I made you pick up the food?” Lewis asked. “I didn’t know you were so bratty!” Lewis shouted

“You can’t shout that shit out, sir Lewis!” Y/N shouted back

“Watch me! Pick up the food, the sooner we get it, the sooner I’ll fuck the best out of you!” Lewis yelled.

“Dude!” Y/N yelled before entering the restaurant, Lewis winked and blew her a kiss before pulling his head back in. Y/N came back. “I have the food and just for the record, I wasn’t being a brat.”

“Then why did you slam the door?” Lewis asked.

“TikTok prank, you know, it’s a Gen Z, think, you wouldn’t know since you’re a millennial.” Y/N teased.

“You’re trying to call me old?” Lewis asked

“Not trying, I am calling you old. Now I’m being a brat.” Y/N said.

“Oh you’re getting it when we get home.” Lewis said, pulling out of the parking lot.

Carlos Sainz Jr.

Y/N and Carlos were in the Walgreens parking lot.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go in with you?” Carlos asked

“Alguien te ha dicho que preocupes mucho? It’s not like I’m in an episode of criminal minds, we’re in broad daylight, I’m fine, don’t worry. I’ll be back.” Y/N said, before kissing Carlos and slamming the door to enter Walgreens. Carlos jumped from the brute force. Carlos rolled down the window.

“Hija de tu madre, por qué haces eso?” Carlos asked laughing.

“Let me get my shit, okay!” Y/N went in and got out quickly, getting into the car. “Ahora sí, whats up?”

“Why did you slam my door? My car has done nothing to you.” Carlos asked laughing.

“Sorry, amor, it was a prank.” Y/N said.

“My poor car.” Carlos said.

“No seas payaso, let’s go home, I got your dog a treat.” Y/N said.

Max Verstappen

Max and Y/N were sitting in a parking lot.

“Hey, I’m gonna get ice cream, I’ll be right back, okay.” Y/N said.

“Okay, darling.” Max said. Y/N slammed the door when she left and Max just stared at Y/N walking away. He blinks and went back on his phone. “Wonder what’s that about.” Y/N came back.

“So I bought you ice cream, you can eat it now or just put it in the freezer.” Y/N said, showing him the cup with the to-go lid., Max stared at him. “What?”

“You slammed my door, why?” Max asked.

“It’s a TikTok prank.” Y/N responded.

“Okay.” Max said.

“That’s it?” Y/N asked.

“Yeah, I know you’re addicted to the app.” Max said.

“I am not addicted, you take that back.” Y/N said.

“You slammed my door because of TikTok, you’re addicted.” Max said.

“Fine, it’s my ice cream now.” Y/N said.

“Okay, okay, you’re not addicted, let’s go, I gotta see my cats.” Max said.

“Ugh, I gotta take my allergy pills.” Y/N said, continuing to eat her ice cream as Max drives off.

Hope y’all liked it! I tried something different, should I do more posts like this?