#ONE LAYER??? ARE YOU SHITTING ME??? OMG

[arolesbianism]

I am rotating Light so hard in my head rn girlies who just straight up fucking torture ppl cause she can

[imwritesometimes]

this just in - I still have not made the peppermint bark I'm supposed to make. It's not lookin good for today either. Perhaps..... tomorrow 🤔🤔🤔

[cal-flakes]

omg !! rate (dealer or not i don't mind !!) spoiling reader after she's had a tough n emotional week :( projecting rn !! ilysm and ur writing is amazing !!

so sorry it’s so late! i’ve only just started properly writing again :( love ya

‧₊🫧꒷꒦‧₊˚⋆

— “y’okay kid?” a gruff mutter echoed from outside the bathroom as you lay still, eyes so focused yet so withdrawn as you watched the way your fingers floated in the now lukewarm bath rafe had run earlier. huffing meekly in agreement, you listened intently as his footsteps shifted, lingering for a moment. “be back soon, alright doll?” he called once more, secretly wishing for more than a distant sigh. “m’kay” you whispered, resting your head back against the cool tile.

rafe cameron was many things but never a liar, well — never to you at least. he said he’d be back soon, and back soon he was. yet, it felt like hours till you heard the familiar sound of his heavy footsteps, alongside a not so familiar rustling.

you saw it coming, the stuff knocks on the bathroom door once again, that didn’t mean you were pleased to hear them. the thought of getting out, or even just moving was exhausting, especially after such a long week, or the week of hell as you’d named it earlier, earning a sympathetic chuckle from your love as he adjusted himself in the drivers seat, ready and waiting to pick you up from work.

“c’mon darlin’ you gotta get out now, waters cold” he stated firmly, much unlike his earlier pleas. “m’coming” you huffed. “i’ma leave you to it, meet me downstairs”

it wasn’t uncommon for rafe to be so matter of fact with you anymore, he’d sharp learned that pleas and coaxing does nothing for you, never as beneficial as simply telling you.

patting the last layer of your skincare into your face, you turned slowly to open the bathroom door, eyes widening as quickly as the could as you took in the arrangement on your shared bed — tulips, pink ones specifically, chocolates, all splayed out beautifully, laid carefully beside — a teddy bear?

“rafe?” you queried, feet padding against the cold floor, pace much quicker — bouncier even now that you’d festered for a couple of hours, recharging. “yeah doll?” he hummed from the lounge, throwing his head back over the couch to look at you, lips quick to turn upwards as he noticed the new plush hanging from your grasp. “another one?” you beamed, quickly rounding the cushioned chair, all but diving into his lap — in which he was quick to catch you, placing numerous soft kisses to your freshly combed hair.

“s’nothin, just remembered you said you needed an new addition, n’you’ve had a shit week, jus’ thought it might help..” he spoke, slender fingers raking through your hair as you lay in his lap, glossy lips and glassy eyes peering up at him as though he’d gifted you the moon.

[winchester101]

And the way there is clearly a second couch all the way in the back but Sanji still slept besides Zoro

😭

[joostsblog]

Omg hi your writing is so so good!! So I just saw the new photos of Joost (with his broken phone etc) and I thought of a new story… can you maybe write something where Joost trips and has some small injuries like a scraped knee and elbow etc, and reader takes care of him??

I loooooove this! I also noticed that there's a red spot on his knee so I wondered if he actually fell down or something

kiss it better ~ joost klein one shot

My masterlist here ✨💌

Pairing: Joost Klein x female!reader

Description: A bloody scratch on your crush Joost's knee turns into an interesting opportunity for you.

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: You already know, it's another friends to lovers one shot, i'm a sucker for those. I hope you like it, if you do pls show your support by reblogging ❣️❣️ send in requests i'm having fun with this! 💌

Warnings: blood, not proofread

Joost had always been clumsy. His drink accidentally slipping out of his fingers when grabbing it. Bumping into a corner when he just told a funny anecdote to his friends. You could even say that the way Joost stumbled into your heart was clumsy. Because he definitely didn't mean to do it, after all, you were just one of his friends. But there he was, definitely not leaving anytime soon - that you were sure of.

Your strategy for dealing with your uncurable crush on your friend was definitely unique. You and Joost were known within your friend group for being ultra-affectionate and flirty to one another. Always alternating between bickering and jokingly complimenting each other. Always making a joke out of every hug and touch you shared.

"Go get a room already," Apson would occasionally say with a roll of the eye and you both would laugh along but secretly you would wish that you could tell Joost about your crush earnestly. Instead, you hid it away under layers of jokes.

Right now you were watching Joost as you and your friends wandered through the streets of Vancouver. You were laughing as Joost walked backwards in front of you, his arms gesturing around wildly as he talked about an idea he had for a music video. You watched his steps intently as you already noticed this to be a risky situation for the clumsy man. You breathed a sigh of relief as Joost dropped the antics and decided to turn around to walk normally again. But as he did, you could only watch as he tripped over the seam of his long pants and fell on the concrete.

"Oh shit," your friends around you exclaimed. "Jooooost," they started to laugh as they realised that he must be not seriously hurt.

Joost sat down on the pavement, his legs bent at an angle and his hands behind him to prop himself up. You kneeled down between his legs to check on him.

"Are you alright?" you asked concerned.

"Yeah," Joost tried to press out a convincing laugh but you could see in his eyes that he must be either hurt or embarrassed by his fall - or maybe a mix of both. When you looked Joost in the eyes you saw him evading your gaze and for a second you were scared that he might start crying. You were glad that your friends didn't seem to pay much attention to the both of you since it was no news to see you lost in your own little world.

"Are you hurt? Let me see," you said and tried your best to be comforting for Joost.

Joost looked down at his hands to inspect them and you noticed a few scratches on one of his fingers. The phone he was holding in his hand was also shattered since Joost didn't use any protective phone cases.

"It's fine," Joost said unconvincingly.

"No, that sucks," you reaffirmed his feelings and softly touched his knee. Joost winced with a smile and you looked down to where your hand just touched. A small spot of red was bleeding through Joost's jeans where he must have scratched his knee during the fall. "Oh, I'm sorry," you said, instead caressing the side of his knee now. "Do you want me to kiss it better?" you said cheekily, right back with your flirty banter you two were so well accustomed to.

"Are you taking the piss out of me?" Joost asked with a pout.

"No, never," you tried to reassure him. "I'm serious," you said and reached into your bag to pull out a pack of tissues. You grabbed the bottom seam of Joost's jeans and looked at him for confirmation before he nodded. Your friends were still not paying much attention to you down on the floor as they instead talked and joked among themselves. You pulled Joost's jeans up until his bleeding knee was exposed. Using one of the tissues you carefully dabbed at the wound to remove the blood. Joost winced at the contact again. "I'm sorry," you said as you were finished.

After one moment of hesitation, you leaned down and pressed a light kiss on the skin of Joost's knee just above the scratch. You looked at Joost and saw a shy smile creeping up on his face so you decided to leave three other kisses on his knee for good measure.

"Better?" you asked.

"Yes, so much better," he said grinning.

"Is there anywhere else you're hurting?" you asked, feeling courageous.

"Here," Joost said and showed you the scratch on his hand which you had inspected earlier.

You carefully took his hand into yours and also cleaned off the blood using the tissue. Joost's hand wrapped around yours as you pulled it towards you until you also pressed a few gentle kisses around the fresh wound.

"Anywhere else?" you asked as you looked at Joost.

"Here," he said quietly and pointed to his lips. Your heart started racing.

"I don't see any scratches there," you teased. You wished you were alone in this moment and nobody would be here to see or interrupt.

"But I'm hurting," Joost said with a pout and you smiled.

Fuck it, you thought.

You leaned forward and cupped his cheek with one of your hands. Joost rested one hand on your waist. You made sure to plant the most gentle, sweetest and loving kiss on Joost's lips. As you leaned back again you both looked at each other and you wondered if this was one of those times when you would show each other affection or say something sickly sweet about the other person under the guise of it just being a joke. Something in Joost's eyes gave you the feeling that this might be different actually, that the both of you were earnest this time. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you decided to go in for another kiss, a second kiss you definitely couldn't play up for laughs anymore. It was longer and deeper and you could feel Joost leaning into you.

"Hey, look at Joost and (Y/N)!" Apson shouted in delight as your friends finally noticed what the two of you were up to.

You pulled away from Joost who looked at you biting down on his lips to hide a grin. You offer your hand to Joost as you get up and help him get up as well. The both of you just ignored the bickering around you as your friends tried to pry into what just happened. Instead, you just continued your path down to wherever you were going anyway. As you walk beside each other you take notice that Joost never let go of your hand, still firmly fitting around yours.

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Dune: Prophecy episode 1 thoughts, tried to keep it vague to avoid major spoilers:

Wow there is a lot of exposition. Like a LOT of exposition, especially in the first 10-15 minutes when we're not invested in any of the characters yet. I hope this is a first episode problem.

Ah they went the coward's route and used "Great Machine War" instead of "Butlerian Jihad."

There's an interesting "history is written by the victors" thread there right from the beginning that I hope they pull on some more.

I love how they did the Voice, which appears early in the episode, because both the actor's performance and the sound design of it are slightly different from the films. It really feels/sounds like the character using it is straining to access a new and unfamiliar power, in contrast to the effortless, overwhelming assertion of control it comes across as in the films.

Salusa Secundus looks so green and lush in comparison to how it looks at the time of the films.

I realize this is probably an unfair complaint for something made on a TV budget (even an HBO TV budget), but imo the production design doesn't quite measure up to the films. I think the best work is on the props. The key to the genetic index room, the little slides that Valya and Tula are looking at with students' info on them, the Emperor's projection table--those all look great and have that feeling of "future filtered through the past" that I think is key to the Dune aesthetic. Many of the location exteriors are gorgeous, too. Some of the interior sets are quite striking and others are underwhelming. The costumes are...mid imo; there are some beautiful elements and others that look too identifiably modern. Including Princess Ynez's red gown unfortunately which looks like a department store prom dress. I realize it's a high bar--the films were really really good at making everything look both futuristic and ancient, layered and textured--but you do notice the difference.

So! Many! Women! Pretty racially diverse casting too. But also omg so many characters and I already forget half their names. I'm gonna need Dune: Facebook for the next episode.

Emily Watson and Olivia Williams are already very compelling, even if you don't quite know their characters' full agendas yet. Heckin ready for some Machiavellian women scheming.

Love some of the more fucked up shit that just slides by and the information it gives you about the world. Adult (? idk maybe she's supposed to be in her late teens) woman getting engaged to a 9-year-old. Practicing Truthsaying on prisoners, some of whom have fresh bruises on their faces.

Arrakis is...the same. This one is honestly fucking me up. I know time scales in Dune are absurd and really kind of incomprehensible in comparison to real Earth history but can you imagine your home being passed around various imperialist powers for resource extraction for ten thousand years?? FOUR HUNDRED GENERATIONS. 80 years of Harkonnen rule seems like nothing. We're talking about whole eras of colonial control and resistance here. Like damn. No wonder so many Fremen have come to believe that only a messiah can save them. Imagine being someone like Chani and feeling the legacy of not decades or even centuries but millennia of struggle on your shoulders. It is gonna take me a while to fully absorb this one. Holy fuck.

Travis Fimmel's character has an...ability that we haven't seen in the Dune universe before and I'm super curious to see where they're gonna go with that.

Overall it feels like this episode was mostly setup but there's a lot of potential? Like there are a lot of potential threads that could develop into something cool and twisty and interesting. I'm not sure where any of it is going yet but I'm ready to find out.

[flowerxbunnie]

HI LOVE UR WRITING!

please can u do a fic where matt is super horny, so him and y/n have phone sex. and it feels so good, he can’t stop jerking, and ends up over stimming himself. and he’s like begging her for more and shit please omg.

“i’m wearing those silky panties u got me for our anniversary”

“i love the way u sound”

“i wish u were here w me”

“please, baby, please, one more”

“moan for me”

“feels so good”

SORRY I AM A SLUT FOR DIRTY TALK

One More

Matt x Fem reader

Warnings: SMUT, phone sex, sub!matt ish?

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT OKAY WITH SMUT OR ARE A MINOR!

I pull my blanket up to my chin as I watch three dots dance around on my phone screen. Matt’s response is taking longer than usual, and I know exactly why.

im wearing the silky panties you got me on our anniversary ❣️

I blush as I read over my message again and again, scanning over the teasing photo I sent of my hip clad in black silk straps. I can’t help but imagine what he could be typing, how he could be reacting to my words. My smile drops as the bubble disappears, my message left on read for 6 minutes at this point.

I don’t have much time to be disappointed. My phone vibrates in my hand as his name flashes across my screen and I feel a surge of nerves, my blood pumping fiercely through my veins as my pulse quickens.

“Hello?” I speak lowly as I place my phone against my ear.

“What was that about baby?” Matt’s voice is deep and soft across the line, but still sends a shiver down my spine.

“What are you talking about Matty?” I feign ignorance, biting hard on my lip as my cheeks burn.

“Don’t play dumb,” his voice hardens, “You’re not gonna get me hard and then act like you don’t know how it happened.”

“Oh, did I?” I say with mock confusion. “I just really like these panties and wanted to show you. They remind me of you.” I trail off and put the phone on speaker, pulling on the strap against my hip and letting it hit my skin with an audible slap.

I hear a sharp inhale echo from my speaker followed by shuffling sounds.

“Baby don’t do this to me,” he croaks, “it hurts so bad and if I leave the house Nick and Chris will wake up.”

“Who said you have to leave?” I giggle and wait for his response.

“Can you talk me through it baby? Please, I need it.” His voice is pleading but still hushed.

“Mhmm.. are you wearing anything?” I question as I lean back onto my pillow and lay my phone beside me.

“U-uh.. just sweats.” He answers quickly.

“Touch yourself over them for me.” I say as seductively as I can muster, my own arousal growing and distracting me as I picture what he looks like right now.

“I… already was..” he admits, my cheeks burning hotter as I realize what all the muffled sounds have been.

“So naughty of you, Matthew. Couldn’t even wait a couple minutes hm?”

I hear whispered curses in response and I have to squeeze my thighs together, the throbbing between my legs growing ever so strong as I picture Matt palming himself with his veiny hands in his bed.

“Take everything off Matt. It’ll feel so good without all the layers won’t it?”

“Yeah, fuck. Hang on baby.” I hear more shuffling as his phone is tossed onto his sheets. “Okay done. Fuck, I wish you were here.”

“I am here baby, just not in the same way.” I answer, realizing my hand has made its way to the hemline of my panties, rubbing back and forth subconsciously. “Are you touching yourself Matt?”

I hear a hum in response before he speaks. “Y-yes. Keep talking. Your voice is so fucking sexy.” He sounds strained, his words barely coming out.

I dip my fingers below my panties and gasp lightly as I rub my swollen clit. “I’m t-touching myself too Matty. Fuck, it’s so wet.” I moan lightly as I slip one finger into my entrance.

I hear a groan from across the line followed by deep breathing. “Oh… fuck..” He goes silent after a couple of seconds and the only sound I can hear is him shuffling around in his bed.

“Did you cum?” I question, the pattern sounding awfully familiar.

“I did. Please baby, please keep going. I need more.” I hear wet sounds and I can perfectly picture how his fist is tightly gripping his cock and pumping it with need. “Please one more, I need it so bad.”

I curl my finger and hit my most sensitive spots, closing my eyes as I listen to Matt’s heavy breathing and try to imagine that it’s him pleasuring me.

“Moan for me baby. Don’t hold it back please, fuck, I need it.” He pleads, almost whining.

I stop holding back and allow myself to sink into the pleasure, my free hand slipping my bra down to expose my nipple so I can pinch it like Matt loves to do. My sounds fall from my throat freely and elicit even more from Matt.

“I feel so good Matt, fuck.. I wish it was your fingers inside of me.” I whine as I slip my middle finger in, savoring every sensation that comes along with the fullness.

“You don’t know how bad I wish you were riding me right now.” He groans, the wet pumping sounds speeding up with every passing second. “Your pretty little pussy would feel so good around me, fuck.”

My stomach tightens at the thought of his cock hitting every spot deep inside that would drive me crazy, the thought of his jaw hanging open with his eyes squeezed shut, the thought of his hands gripping my boobs as they bounce in his face.

“Matt I th-think I’m gonna cum.” I breathe out as I slip my fingers out of my entrance and use them to rub fast circles onto my clit.

“Please, baby. Please cum, let me hear you. Fuck, please.” He croaks, sounding louder in the speaker as he moves the phone next to his ear.

I feel my body tense as I climb to my peak before the tension breaks. I moan out Matt’s name as I cum, hearing strings of curses from the other side of the line as I tremble under my own touch.

“F…fuck.” I pant, trying my hardest to catch my breath.

“Fuck, it hurts baby. I need to cum but it’s so fucking sensitive,” he hisses, his voice strained and filled with concentration. “C-can you take a picture for me?”

“What does my Matty wanna see?” I blush at his request, picking my phone up and swiping my camera open.

“You. I don’t care. Just need to see you, please. I need to cum so bad baby. Please.”

I grin to myself, enjoying this desperate side of Matt. I pull my other bra cup down so both my boobs are exposed and hold my phone up, taking a photo of my hand grasped around my left one. I open our texts and send it, watching as the read receipt immediately pops up. He was waiting for it.

“Wanna cum on those pretty tits so bad.” He groans, a rasp growing in his voice. “Fuck, I need them in my mouth.”

I open my camera back up and take in the sight of myself, my hair disheveled from my orgasm and my cheeks flushed. I bite my lip and give the doe eyes to the camera that I know he loves as I snap another photo. He’s still swooning over the first photo as I send the next, and I bite my lip as I wait for his reaction.

“I- you look so… fuck..” his breathing becomes irregular, his groans and whines sounding through my speakers.

“Come on Matt, cum for me. You can do it, I know how bad you need it.” I whisper out.

“Say it again. Fuck, I need to hear you say it again.”

“Cum for me Matt. Let it all go baby.”

The sounds that flood through my speakers are lewd and pornographic. The sound of his hand slipping up and down over his cock as he pumps himself to his second orgasm, my name drawn out as he rides through it and spills his cum onto his stomach.

I smile to myself as I listen to Matt catching his own breath just as I did moments before. We sit in silence for a couple of minutes, no words needed as we relish in the moment.

“That was…” he starts, trailing off with a deep breath.

“I know.” I giggle, finishing his train of thought before he struggles too hard to try and come up with the right words.

“I’m saving those. Fuck, I feel like I could cum again just looking at them.” I hear a few faint sounding pumps before he winces. “Way too fucking sensitive.”

“You need some rest baby. Don’t overdo it.” I laugh, standing up and heading to the bathroom to clean myself up.

“Mmm, why do you have to be right all the time?” He teases in a raspy, tired voice.

“That’s just the way it goes I guess. Now go clean up before you wake up all crusty.” I joke as I turn my shower on to warm up.

“That’s actually disgusting.” He over dramatically gags and I hear a shuffle before I hear a door being opened.

“I love you, Matty.” I giggle, placing my phone on the counter.

“I love you, angel.” he replies before the line disconnects.

a/n i haven’t written in so long omfg the holidays have me FUCKED up. i hope you all enjoy desperate matt 😵‍💫

tag list: @lustfulslxt @whotfisade @soursturniolo @recklesssturniolo @lxvlysworld @chrisolivia4l @kiarastromboli @mattnchrisworld @cupidsword @kvtie444 @xplrfear @knowingnothingnoel @karlybbx @chrisfavoritepepsi @mwah0mwah @starsturniolo @christinarowie332 @fionaheartswomen

[wherenymphsroam]

Real dad! Leon coming over to help you with your car.

Something’s wrong with it, so why wouldn’t you call your dad to help you out? He gets there, pops the hood and finds the problem that he starts to fix.

You check on him every ten or so minutes, noticing how maybe he took his jacket off, how his hair is getting messier. He’s more out of breath and a little sweaty. It makes you forget he was even speaking to you, asking for you to go grab him a bottle of water so he can cool down.

And when you do come out with the water, his shirt is off this time. He grins and laughs at you. Maybe he’s a little mean and teases you about it, talking about how you haven’t seen a man like him before ugh omg

The tension would be sooo thick after that. Especially if he stays over for a while, maybe taking a shower in your bathroom. He comes out in a towel, making sure it hangs low to catch your attention since you just loved staring at him earlier

Please please please hear me out

oh I’m hearing you Mel. I’m hearing ya.

“Like mother like daughter”

cw: daddy/daughter incest, leon is your real dad in this, some mixed in religious themes, leon being a cocky douche even in his old age, kitchen counter fucking, slight breath play but it’s only bc Leon’s arm is around readers neck, barely proof read.

a/n: idc im not making this formatting all pretty, I literally blacked out and coughed up 2.5k at two in the morning. straight filth. here you go, eat you little shits.

And up until that point, it’s just that. It’s only that. Tension. Silent, deadly, heavy in the air of your small place.

That is, until he slices right through it, walking out of your bathroom in nothing but that towel.

When you were smaller, he’d never take showers when you were around, making sure to slip them in during the dark hours of the morning or long after you were asleep. And on the occasion that you were around, even into your teen years he’d all but beeline to his bedroom to get changed, only leaving you with a lingering glance at his broad back. That is, when you’d will yourself to look as he strode down the hall. You shouldn’t be looking at your dad in such immodest state, let alone like that.

And yet here you are, dry mouthed and stock still where you stand at your kitchen island. He had strode in, so confident, almost cocky, claiming he forgot his glass of water. As if he couldn’t have grabbed it after he was decent. Because he’s just so thirsty after all that work today, and the kitchen is on the way to your guest bedroom where he was going to change anyway. What would be the point in doubling back?

He’s about to grab his glass and slip back out of the kitchen, content enough to be swift in his appearance. That is, until he notices the look on your face.

“What?” He chuckles, his smile sly. He knew he didn’t look the same as he did when he was twenty something years old. The scars, the soft layers of fat that had cropped up over thick muscles in his pecs and abs, the healthy line of hair that trails underneath his towel — it’s all a reminder of what his body has been through, how it’s matured through the years. Yet, here you were standing there and gawking at him, as if you’d never seen a shirtless man before.

He’s met with silence. Wetting your lips, swallowing thickly, blinking a few times — it’s takes you a beat too long to be deemed appropriate to realize you were staring. Barely holding back the urge to curse under your breath, you cover your obvious gawking with a dry cough, a shake of your head. Waving a dismissive hand at him and rolling your eyes as if suddenly he’s a nuisance.

“Ew,” you snort, turning back to the dishes you had been in the middle of doing. “Go get changed, old man.”

“Ouch,” he hissed, snickering now. Directly defying your playful orders, he leans on the kitchen island now, leaving only the hand on his hip to keep his towel secure around his hips.

“I wasn’t always an old man. Your mom was attracted to me at one point in time, you know,” he hums, teasing, playful. Far more playful than appropriate.

“Obviously,” you mutter, willing yourself not to turn around. Your gaze bores down, practically drilling through the pan you’re scrubbing. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

He laughs then, throaty and low, his stomach shaking from the strength of it.

“That you are.”

Footsteps.

Coming towards you, the old tile squeaking softly in specific weak points as he crosses your small kitchen. You don’t notice how your scrubbing slows, subconsciously distracted by his warmth as it settles behind you, looming.

“I asked you a question, you know,” he murmurs, piercing eyes trained on you.

He’s done this in times past. Sometimes when he’s reprimanded you, sometimes in joking passing. Directing your attention back to a voiced inquiry that you decide to oh so conveniently side step, choosing to ignore in favor of your own comfort. And like always, he wasn’t going to let you slide.

“What’s with that look on your face?” he rephrases, tilting his head.

Don’t stop scrubbing.

You don’t. If anything, the movements of your arm grow faster, harder, practically burning your sponge into the surface of a pan that’s been clean for two minutes now.

“What look?” you hum, feigning ignorance, clearly so busy with your task at hand.

Rolling his eyes, he adjusts his towel around his hip, tugging it tighter. The action had the back of his palm brushing into your hip.

“Nope. You don’t get to play dumb with me,” he tuts, low and far too close to the back of your neck. A few inches more, and his breath would fan against the back of your neck.

“When was the last time you went out, anyways? Hell, the last time you told me about a boyfriend?” he snickers, moreso at the mental image of the last loser you brought home to him.

Sighing, your jaw sets, your heart skipping in your chest.

“Dad, we’re not talking about this right now,” you groan, adjusting your craned neck, shifting your weight over your feet as you turn the faucet on. Suds slide off the nonstick surface of the pan, pooling and circling to disappear a moment later down your drain.

“You’re right. We’re not.”

Pausing, your gut twists in a way you haven’t felt in a while. It’s that feeling you get, that tugging that tells you the guy you’re hanging out with wants more. That the guy you’re alone with has intentions driven by hunger, need. That he wants you.

But you’re not alone with just some guy. Not alone with even a guy your age. He’s not a classmate. Not a friend. Not some sleazy tinder date you brought home.

It’s your dad.

A deep breath in. An effort of swallowing and burying that feeling. Of shoving it deep enough in hopes that it wouldn’t crawl back up again.

An exhale through your nose, forcing your movements as you reach for the next dirty dish.

“Then what are we talking about?” you scoff, glad he can’t see your face, your eyes that waver. Taking a tone you typically do during your nitter nattering with him, a tone he would reprimand you for in your teen years.

“The fact that you were eye-fucking your father a minute ago,” he mutters, his tone indecipherable.

“That’s what we’re talking about.”

Was he angry?

Disappointed, maybe?

Uncomfortable?

You can’t tell. Out of all the times you’re able to read your father, quick to pin down his vocal habits, of course it’s right now that you fail to get a read on him. Because admittedly, you haven’t heard him like this before.

Why did you care? Did you want him to be angry? Uncomfortable?

Why aren’t you uncomfortable?

Finally, your pitiful stress scrubbing comes to a halt. It’s as if he just fed an IV of ice water through your veins, his voice resounding through the kitchen as it falls silent around you.

You’re hesitant, slow when you turn your head. Brows knitted, lips parted — something you got from him — you can’t even bring yourself to meet his damn eyes.

“W… What? Dad, I’m not eye-fucking you-“

“Be honest. When was the last time you got laid?” he scoffs, all amusement drained from his voice. Not quite lecturing, nor demanding. But firm.

Glancing up at him, you search his eyes, silently floundering under his hard gaze. It takes all your willpower not to let your own wander down the still damp skin of his neck, his collarbones.

This isn’t appropriate.

When you were younger, he’d physically cringe at the idea of you ever experiencing sex. Would clench his fist, draw his brows at the idea of some insolent little boy getting his hands on you, in you.

“Don’t forget to mention the .45 I keep in my bedside,” he’d not so jokingly quip whenever you’d head out for a date.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to it then. Gotta go polish my bat,” he’d make a point of specifying the one time you had a male friend over to study for a big exam.

It was from a place of protectiveness. Of love. Because you were his little girl. Didn’t want you getting hurt. Even if he knew that one day you’d probably end up entangled in the back of some college idiots Honda accord his parents got him, that you’d one day be introduced to the world of true heart break, he wanted, needed to keep you out of the worlds grips for just a little bit longer. For as long as he could control.

And here he is, asking so crudely when you last got laid.

“I asked you a question.”

A beat passes. Another one. Your neck is uncomfortable, half turned over your shoulder like this. But you dare not turn away.

“Never.”

Oh.

Oh.

There it is. All it took was some light prodding and you’re coughing up.

Because he told you to. Because he loves you. Because you’re a good girl. His good girl.

Not some sleazy tinder dates.

Not some broke college boy with a measly Honda accord.

No, no. He really should’ve known better. You have more refined taste than he often wants to give you credit for. Well, that is, until he’s taking credit for you, so quick to remind you it’s him you inherited such trait from.

His little girl was always needier than that. Better than that. Smarter than to so freely give herself to whatever scumbag picked her up some flowers from the grocery store on his way over to the house before a date, smarter than to let some asshole take advantage of any insecurity.

“You were saving it for me weren’t you?”

His voice comes out as a panted snicker into your neck, spoke into the numerous bites and blooming spots of color along your nape. It takes you a moment, lost in the hazy, sickly heated daze the two of your have made of the kitchen air around you. With pots long forgotten, one side of the sink full of cooled water, the sound of the faucet that had been running earlier is replaced with the wet claps of skin against skin.

Sharp, deep, all consuming when his pelvis collides into your ass, the fat of it rippling under each heavy collision. It threatens to steal your sense of coherency from you with each drive.

“H… Huh?”

Your voice is a mess, not too unlike the rest of you. The thick arm he has wrapped around your neck doesn’t really help, seeing as how it only constricts your already dry throat. Speaking proved to be far more difficult than it maybe should be right now.

“Your virginity, sunshine,” he murmurs into your ear, low and hot, brewed with an aftertaste of amusement. As if he didn’t just address you by the nickname he gave you when you were, what, three? As if he wasn’t speaking over the sounds of his body burying him within yours.

“Y’saved it just for me, huh? Knew only your Daddy could take care of you?” he snickers, looking at you oh so intently, adoringly almost. Far too tenderly, given how the thick muscles of his arm ripple with each jerk of your body in his hold.

You were always so pretty. Got it from your mother. Those sweet eyes, the pout of your lips. Even your tears, how they rolled down your cheeks in fat, hot trails of ecstasy matched how your mother would cry for him. How sweet.

And oh, even sweeter, the hitch of your constricted breaths. Your cries, your whimpers, those broken moans that fall so steadily are heavenly, even if what he was committing right now was far from.

Leon had never been a religious man, at least not into his adult life.

What the hell did he care about how wrong this was? God could twist and turn and kick and scream all he wanted, sat up on his high and mighty throne. He could whine and cry all about this was wrong, how he didn’t bless Leon with such a beautiful daughter for him to fuck her.

But right now? Leon doubts that. Hell. Somewhere, hidden deep into the darkest corners and recesses of his mind, Leon hopes that is the reason he was given a daughter. He snickers at the very idea of you being bestowed to him like the damn sacrificial lamb for the slaughter, his own personal sunshine and warm body.

Because why else would you cry like her?

Why else would you sigh and tremble and shudder just like her?

Why else would your voice crack and pitch along the same patterns hers did when he pushed her to her very limits?

Why else would God let his most beloved walk out of his life and leave him with her most beautiful creation, if not to fall in love with her all over again?

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whimper, like a damn broken record in his arms. With your shorts pooled around your ankles, your shirt shoved up just high enough for him to paw at your pretty tits, you were practically a spitting image.

A growl of satisfaction, of delight reverberates through him and you feel it. It all but shakes you to your core, how his chest rumbles against your back. It’s all consuming, so overwhelmingly delicious how warm, how strong he is. You really couldn’t be to blame for how quickly you deteriorate, stuttering through gasped warnings of impending end.

“Ask me properly,” he mutters into your neck, breaths heavy with exertion and hot with carnal lust as he speaks into the shell of your ear.

“Tell Dad you wanna come.”

“Please, please-“

Coughing, your choke briefly around your own spit, and it takes you a second to recover. But it’s only a moment later that you’re shaking your head to the best of its mobility trapped in the crux of his elbow, eyes hazy as you gaze up at him.

“Dad- Dad lemme come. Wan’ come so bad, please, please Dad-“

Eager. So fucking eager, just like your damn mother. All that spunk, all those sarcastic retorts and matter of fact quips that attempt to keep him at bay, stretched thin and see through around the girth of him. He can’t help but laugh at the irony, even moreso when you only spasm around the sound.

And when he finally utters his permission, he’s not gazing down at you to revel in how your orgasm tears through you. He’s tracking every facial expression; every tear, every wobble of your lip and roll of your eyes, all in search of her.

Because as much as he adored the parts of you that were him. As much as he loved teasing you for your similarities, poking fun at the parts of you that were her, he couldn’t help but come to a compromise then.

That yeah, you were a Daddy’s girl through and through.

But at the end of the day, the saying really should be ‘like mother like daughter’.

[hey-august]

Oki so like as much as I love sub!buggy, dom!buggy is like… an extra special fancy meal you have like twice a year.

Something about him getting angry and his ego overtaking his self consciousness

Buggy being on a high from a great performance

Buggy being too worked up to listen to anything but his head (lol)

Buggy using being in control as like, another layer of performance (omg don’t get me started on this, his parter tied up and forced to focus only on him?? I’m-)

I am weak for dom!buggy. WEAK. Folding immediately.

The idea of him losing self-control? Succumbing to carnal instinct? Delicious. One of my favorite meals. I could wax lyrical about this forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and-

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, dom!buggy x GN!reader, 2 lil drabbles, profanity, angry buggy, jealous buggy, insertion sex, manual stimulation (is there another gn term for this??), maybe sorta dubcon but all parties are consenting adults WC: ~600

I’m hooked on an angry Buggy…

Buggy who is absolutely seething about an unsuccessful treasure raid. Weeks of preparation, all for nothing. The map was old and the treasure was long gone. The venture was a failure, which meant the captain was a fucking failure.

His emotions are bubbling over. Thoughts running in circles. And then there’s you. A poorly timed but well-intentioned question about whether there’s anything you can do to help him calm down resulted in you against the wall while Buggy fumbles with his belt. Your face pressed into the wood, mouth hanging open, while he thrusts into you at a shattering pace.

“Calm down, huh? How’s this for calm?” he snarls in your ear. “Telling your fucking captain he should calm the fuck down…”

You can’t answer. Your mind is fuzzy, your legs are trembling, that deep coil keeps tightening and snapping under his relentless hammering. You’re an absolute mess - drooling and dripping, whining and whimpering, eyes rolling back, moans growing coarse in your throat.

Then he stops, still sheathed fully inside you. Buggy presses his weight against your body, burrowing himself deeper and deeper. You’re stretched so full, conforming to his presence. It aches so wonderfully.

He’s huffing. His heavy breaths fill your ears and your empty head. But he’s not done. Buggy has a lot of anger to let out before he can “calm down,” and you’re gonna help.

---

Okay okay okay, what about when Buggy's jealous... 

When you laugh a little too hard at someone else’s jokes. When you accept drinks because they’re free. When you’re polite to some shit-stain nobody, giving them the attention that should be on Buggy. It’s irritating. 

Buggy makes sure you know how disrespectful that was by making sure you devote all of your attention to him later that night. Binding you in a chair, arms behind your body and legs spread open, and all you can focus on is him.

His hand between your legs while he stands in front of you. He’s so fucking tall too, so you have to look up. You have to maintain eye contact, otherwise he won’t let you come. Feeling the tremors in your body as you get close, you can’t stop your eyes from fluttering, which stops all movement.

The feeling between your legs is gone. Instead, Buggy’s hand is on your chin. He’s rough, squishing your cheeks, and digging his fingers into your plump skin.

“So you don’t want to come? Maybe I should stop and leave you like this.”

You can’t shake your head against the tight hold. You can’t roll your hips to chase the friction he took away. You can’t move your hands to touch yourself. All you can do is look Buggy in the eyes and give him a pitiful sounding answer.

He lets go of your face. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to come, please...”

The words come out in a needy whine, but that answer isn’t satisfactory. Buggy crouches in front of you and puts a hand on your knee.

“Ah-ah, tell me exactly what you want.”

“I-I want you to touch me. I want you to m-make me come. Wanna feel you, want you, wanna come on you, want-” Your babbling is cut off by a climax Buggy coaxes with a few well-timed and well-placed touches. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…” The words repeat in between heaving breaths. You feel so limp. So exhausted.

A hand on your chin brings your gaze back towards his. “Eyes on me. I’m not done, yet. Let’s see if you can still talk when I’m through with you.”

[sebscore]

okay, but can we have a driver!reader flirting with all of the wags and sweeping them off their feet and making all of the drivers do better cuz, well driver!reader is now the standard

BREAK UP WITH YOUR BOYFRIEND, I’M BORED

pairings: lando norris x driver!reader / luisinha barosa oliveira x driver!reader / alex albon x driver!reader / muni lily he x driver!reader

warnings: swearing. mention of being virgin. shameless flirting. return of the rumplestiltskin.

author’s note: my bestie coming through with the requests!! 🤗 I had so much fun writing this, like omg ! I hope everyone likes and let me know what you think of it!

masterlist

• • • • • • •

“Hi, there.” Y/N greeted the young woman as she entered the club bathroom.

The stranger glanced up in the mirror, surprised at the sudden greeting. “Oh, hi.” She smiled and went back to reapplying her make-up.

Y/N walked up to the sink next to her, grabbing some soap and washing her sticky hands from the alcohol that Charles had spilled on them. “I’ve never seen you here before, are you new in the city?”

The brunette carefully pulled her mascara wand away from her eyes, shyly looking at Y/N. “Uh, no, I’m just visiting for a few days.” The woman had a slight Portuguese accent to her English.

“Oh, cool,” she grinned in response, “I’m Y/N, btw.” The athlete introduced herself, confidently sticking out her freshly washed hand.

The, what she assumed, Portuguese beauty chuckled, but put her mascara wand down and shook her hand. “I’m Luisa.”

Luisa. The name sounded familiar for some reason, but she couldn’t place it and she also couldn’t recognize the woman from anywhere.

“Beautiful name,” Y/N smiled, wanting to make her at ease, “are you from Portugal, by any chance?” She leaned against the counter.

Luisa excitedly nodded her head. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I could tell by your accent.” She answered, softly laughing.

At her response, Luisa looked down in embarrassment. “Oh, no,” she put her hands over her face, “it’s really bad, I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize! It’s sexy.” Y/N tried to make her feel better by some old-fashioned flirting.

She could see the red blush through Luisa’s small layer of foundation. “Thank you.” She put a lost stray of hair behind her ear.

“You’re welcome,” Y/N smirked, liking where this was going, “so, what do you do? You have a job? You study?”

“I’m a fashion model.” The brunette started putting her make-up back in her small pouch.

As soon as Luisa wasn’t looking at the driver, Y/N swiftly checked the woman out. “I should’ve known.” She continued flirting. “I’m a race car driver.” Y/N told her, her eyes back to Luisa’s face.

Her newfound friend nervously chuckled. “Yeah, I know.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh shit, you know me? That’s cool.” She tilted her head to the side.

“Of course I know you, you’re a really good driver.” Luisa complimented her, her ears turning red now as well.

The effect Y/N had on the woman gave her a confidence boost. “Well, thank you,” the smirk on her face wasn’t leaving any time soon, “do I know you from somewhere? I recognize your name, but I can’t seem to place it.”

Luisa nodded her head, immediately understanding where Y/N might have heard her name. “Yeah, you, uh, race against my boyfriend.”

Her eyebrows furrowed at the answer. “I race against your boyfriend? Oh my god, who?” Y/N couldn’t understand how someone as beautiful as Luisa would be the girlfriend of one of her colleagues.

“Lando.”

“Lando? Lando Rumplestiltskin Norris?” The shock that went through her body was indescribable, she just did not understand how.

Luisa burst out in laughter at the nickname, recalling her boyfriend saying something about it. “Yes, that one.”

“Are you joking? Oh my god! Yes, you are Luisa!” The memory of when she eavesdropped on Lando and Carlos at one of the drivers briefing earlier that year coming back to her.

It didn’t take too long after that for Y/N to drag the poor woman out of the bathroom in search of the McLaren driver. “Norris!”

Lando turned around upon the sound of his name being called. He was surprised to see his friend holding hands with girlfriend. “Y/N!” He hadn’t seen her since the last race weekend.

“When were you gonna introduce me to this beauty?” Her and Lando had been friends since their early karting days, so she was a bit disappointed that he hadn’t mentioned his girlfriend to her.

Lando pulled Luisa to him, separating the women’s intertwined hands. “We haven’t been together for that long,” he explained, “I was gonna introduce you two at the next GP.”

“I’m very happy for you.” Y/N smiled at Lando, who seemed to appreciate her genuine tone. “Thanks, Y/N.”

She glanced at Luisa. “He’s been a virgin for 22 years, so I’m actually really relieved to see you.” Y/N told her, resulting in a laughing Luisa and an eye-rolling Lando.

“I’ll leave you two, but if you’re getting sick of him,” the female driver pulled her business car out of her small purse, “you can always give me a call.” She handed it over to the Portuguese woman with a wink, whose cheeks burned up again.

Lando gave her a light push. “Okay, bye now!”

“Oh, it’s the love of my life, the apple of my eye, the reason I wake up every day, the-“

“The girlfriend of Alex.”

“Whatever, Albono! Boyfriends are temporary anyway.” Y/N brushed Alex’s interruption off and hugged Lily upon their arrival at the paddock.

“How are you doing, my love?” Lily asked her, swaying the athlete from side-to-side in her arms.

Y/N laughed at Alex’s annoyance, the man crossing his arms. “I’m very good now that you’re here, darling.”

“I’m here as well, you know?” The Thai-British driver announced himself again, feigning offense at his friend’s lack of greeting towards him.

Y/N simply patted his arm. “Good morning, baby!” She teased him, referencing that one time Alex accidentally showed his text to Lily in an interview.

“Oh my god, you’re never gonna believe what happened!” Y/N spoke up, intriguing the couple as they took a step closer to her.

“Like two weeks ago? I was at a club with Charles and Charlotte, and I went to the bathroom and there was this pretty girl fixing her make-up, so I started flirting with her, you know?” She explained, matter-of-factly.

“And she was blushing and shit, so I was getting pretty confident and I introduced myself and she knew who I was!” Y/N gasped, getting Lily and Alex very immersed in her story.

“And she seemed familiar as well, I just couldn’t place her, you know? And suddenly she says that I race against her boyfriend!”

Lily gasped now as well, shocked at the turn of events. “OMG! Who?”

“Lando ‘No Pubes’ Norris.” Y/N answered through gritted teeth.

The couple widened their eyes, their hands covering their mouths as their jaws dropped. “No way! You were flirting with Lando’s girlfriend? Brilliant, absolutely brilliant!” Alex cackled, holding onto Lily for support.

Y/N slapped his shoulder. “Hey! I didn’t know she was his girlfriend and she seemed to be liking it.” She defended herself.

“What did you do when you found out?” Lily asked her, trying her hardest not to start cackling like her boyfriend.

Y/N grinned at the question. “Well, I did what any sane person would do,” she started off, “I gave her my business card.”

This time, Lily couldn’t hold herself in and dissolved in laughter and the couple hilariously tried to hold on to each other.

“Why do you still use those cards? You’ve had them for years.” Alex commented, finding it funny that the woman still gave out cards.

“To give to pretty women, Albono.” At the mention of pretty women, Y/N winked at Lily.

As soon as he noticed, Alex jokingly put his arm between the two of them. “Stop stealing our girlfriends!” He exclaimed.

Y/N made an advance to leave, figuring she should get herself ready for the race with her team. “NEVER!” She yelled over her shoulder.

• • • • • • •

@fxllfaiiry

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[blkkizzat]

I made box brownies. They're excellent. Something every baker should know...include a little instant coffee: made or granules.

Now that that's out there. Your JJk man is mad at you. How do you proceed?

Nanami, i feel like you just have to wait that shit out. He'll calm down sooner or later and talk it out with you.

Geto will be passive-aggressive, but you keep your head on straight and he'll eventually tell you what's wrong.

Gojo: show him your tits. He can't stay mad if you show him tits.

Sukuna...hope you don't make him mad.

Toji, flash your credit card a little. Buy him dinner for the one time. Give him a blow job when you get home. He'll chil out.

Thoughts by - 🧠

Hey 🧠 nonny bae! sorry this took so long I havent been feeling the best and ive been super busy😭😭

Nanami: omg I feel like we would have to have really done some bullshit for him to be mad 😭. Nananmi strikes me as the "dont go to bed angry type, so even if he was still mad he would still give us a kiss on the forehead a quick, love you before going to bed. And if we insisted he would still spoon us.

Geto: oh i definitely see that he is like king of PA lol. i feel like ya'll gonna have to mind game each other and its a battle of wills who caves first. although i feel like by the end, after all the layers of manipulation, neither of you know what you were bad about in the first place, end up hate fucking and calling it a day LOL.

Gojo: GoHOE is so easy to please lmfao. just baby him a bit and fuck him calm again.

Sukuna: LOL I think he would just start ignoring you and taking it out on everyone else around him. He would say he wouldn't want to see you but he's pouting waiting for you to come gravel. You of course dont want to get your head lopped off so you are avoiding him until Uraume has has enough and insists you go apologize. You wont be walking for the next week after all the makeup sex but at least you are still alive!

Toji: fihvnfdlnvskfjh not give him money. 😭😭 he aint gettin shit from me for free except 'free the bros' 😂😂. But I'll cook em a thanksgiving like spread and do a lil dance on that dick and he'll be alright. uhcaudbhfkhbfkd

Choso: skips being mad and goes straight to switch-dom mode and gonna fuck his frustration out. no condom and hes bustin inside so you better hope you on birth controlkjrehfnskhfvks.

Higuruma: run him a bath after a long day, have a meal and a wet puss ready and he is more than willing to forgive, hes too tired to stay mad anyway.

[8myass]

.. caretaker .. pairing. mark lee x female reader genre. fluff pov. second person (you, yours, yourself, etc.) (‘y/n’ usage) synopsis. mark just wants to take care of you like you take care of him. wc. 0.9k cw. best friend!mark tw. teeth-rottenly cute, pet name (‘babe’), cuddling, socially awkward mark, mentions kissing a/n. soft mark y'all omg

Mark was the sweetest, most sincere person you’ve ever met. He had a heart of gold and always put you above others, even when the two of you were just simple acquaintances. You quickly became best friends, though. Friends turning to some sort of situationship, neither of you really knew what your relationship was turning into at that point, but you both loved every moment of it and savored each other's company. 

However, the poor boy always managed to get himself in hot water when it came to your shared conversations. He would say things that came out the wrong way, not at all how he meant it, but because he lacks knowledge of social cues, he doesn’t understand what he said wrong. You were a teacher for him and his awkwardness in relationships, whether that be romantic or platonic. 

He loved you for that, for helping him become a better version of himself, a version of himself that he loved as well. If it were anyone else, you would’ve left him by now, left him in the dark to handle his problems alone, wondering what he did wrong to leave you hating him. But you didn’t, you’re still by his side taking care of him, helping him, keeping him on his two unstable feet. You were his lifeline, really. If it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t have been able to comprehend why he’d been in so much shit with his past relationships before over simple things he’s said.

He still messes up sometimes, saying things that make you question the true meaning and whether or not he was being rude or just ignorant, but you always correct your mindset and tell yourself that’s just Mark. And it is, but you love him. You love his silly, stupid self. You’ve loved him for quite some time now and he loves you even more than you could ever love him in return. He just sucks at proving that to you. You were too intimidating when it came to romance, he never knew how to approach the situation. He was predictable to you, so he would always try to be unpredictable, but that always failed because it was so predictable of him, you expected it.

But one day, you came down with a cold. You were supposed to meet him later on that day, but you were too ill to get out of bed that morning, let alone make it to your car to drive a few miles out of your way to stuff down food that you undoubtedly would throw up the moment you got home. You decided to call him and cancel your plans, explaining the scenario to him. You were apologetic, which led to him becoming sympathetic. 

By the time you had hung up the phone, he was already knocking on your front door, letting himself in and running you a warm bath, heating up some soup, and pouring you some cold medicine to force it down your throat when you refused to take it yourself. You were so happy to have him here helping you that you didn’t even fight him when he helped you change into a comfy pair of pajamas and laid you down in bed, covering you up with layers of blankets to make sure your shivering was contained enough for you to actually get some sleep.

“Thank you, Mark,” you whimper, throat too sore to speak to your fullest extent of happiness. You wanted to jump up out of bed and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug and kissing his pretty lips, just as you always did when you were too excited to contain yourself. You hated how weak you felt, you were making your sickness seem so dramatic, you being nothing but an inconvenience for Mark right now, you’re sure he has some other, more important, things he could be doing instead of taking care of a twenty-year-old who is perfectly capable of taking care of herself. “You really don’t have to stay, you’ve done enough for me. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? To let you know if I feel better.”

“I’m not leaving you, Y/n,” he frowned, leaning down to press his soft palm against your forehead, moving your bangs off your skin, gentle eyes meeting your shaky ones, “I will never leave you, don’t worry about that. I’m here for you no matter what. That’s what friends are for.” Friends. That was a hard sentence for Mark to get out. Friends… that’s not what you were, that’s not what either of you wanted to be.

“You’re so sweet, I don’t deserve you,” you pouted, wiggling around under your blankets to make room next to you for Mark to lay down, “Lay with me then. Hold me.”

“Gladly,” he slipped under the blankets alongside you, wrapping his arms loosely around you to pull you against his body, head pressed firmly into his chest. “This might sound weird, but I like it when you’re sick.”

“Why’s that?” you chuckled, knowing he didn’t quite mean it the way that came out. He was still working on his word placements, you understood that.

“Because then you let me take care of you,” he laughed in turn, brushing his fingers through your hair as a comforting hand trailed along your spine. You hummed in response, not making another sound as you slowly drifted off to sleep. “Now get some rest, babe. Feel better in the morning.”

[maplesyrupsainz]

Hiiii darling i was wondering if prompt 5 with Lance would be possible🥺🫣🩷

pairing: lance stroll x fem y/n reader (she/her)

genre: blurb, best friend's brother

warnings: none just fluff, use of "y/bff/n"

prompt: five [driver] trying to get you to go on a date with him

a/n: omg is this my first ever lance request

my masterlist | my 1k celebration

“aw, come on, y/n,” lance teased you mercilessly, “just one date. you know you want to.”

“lance, no.” you rolled your eyes, turning away from him. “it will always be no.”

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

lance was your best friend's older brother by two years. he was totally off limits to you in a romantic or sexual way, that much was always clear to you. but that did not stop him from continuously flirting with you and asking, no, more like begging, you to go on a date with him just once. he was becoming extremely difficult to deny, especially as over the years as he really grew into himself; he was undeniably hot.

“god, he's so annoying.” your best friend threw herself next to you onto your bed in a huff, obviously talking about her brother.

“what now?” you giggled, poking her side. you tried to keep conversation about him lighthearted, keeping her from being too mad at him at any time. what can you say, you're covering your back for that day you might really cave and go out with him.

“he always eats my food, he always steals my shampoo, he always scares any boy away that might just be interested in me for once. it's so annoying. and he doesn't even live in the same house as me!” she ranted, using her hands animatedly, making you laugh.

“maybe you should change your locks.” you suggested with another giggle.

“maybe i should kill him.” she stated, twisting her body round to face you, a serious expression on her face, making you burst into laughter.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

you unlocked the door to y/bff/n's apartment, dragging your body heavy with tiredness into the hallway. you were staying with her temporarily; you were in between places and being fussy looking for somewhere new to rent.

“y/n!” a male voice called out to you suddenly, making you jump and drop your keys to the floor with a loud clatter.

“shit–” you muttered, immediately searching for them on the hardwood floor.

“oh, sorry y/n, didn't mean to scare you.” it was lance, of course. lance who spent 75% of his time in his hometown at his sister's place instead of at his own. it would've almost been cute, if it wasn't lance.

“what are you doing here?” you raised your eyebrows at him, still standing in the hallway with your coat and bags. you were expecting a relaxing night alone, as y/bff/n was away on a business conference overnight. he just shrugged in response. you didn't bother standing around for much longer, dropping your bags and peeling the layers off your body along with your shoes. you weren't going to let a man ruin the cosy night in you had planned.

“what's for dinner?” he asked, following you into the kitchen like a lost puppy.

“i was going to order a pizza.” you reply, picking up a stack of menus from the corner of the room.

“cool, i'll have pepperoni.” he grinned mischievously at you as you rolled your eyes. you ordered the pizza for him anyway, what else could you do?

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

it was just before 1am on the coach when the first yawn escaped your lips, stretching your body out lazily, like a cat.

“tired?” lance asked, a slight smirk playing at his lips. you shrugged, not wanting to be the one to end the evening. the two of you had been chatting easily all evening, watching a couple of movies and eating takeout pizza. you were surprisingly having a lot of fun with him, and felt very at ease. “or another movie?”

“you can put on another, if you like.” you shrugged again, leaving him to ultimately make the decision on where the rest of the night went.

“no, you look tired, you should get some rest.” you felt slight disappointment at his words, but who were you to challenge them. you nodded, stretching again in an attempt to start moving your body again. “you wanna know something?”

“huh?” you stopped moving then, looking over at him.

“we just had a date.”

“what?” you sat upright, suddenly more awake than you'd ever been. “what are you talking about? a date, no way.” you scoffed, shaking your head at him.

“it kind of was a date. think about it.” he shrugged, standing up. “well, that's me beat. goodnight y/n, sweet dreams.”

he left you there, wide eyed, confused, butterflies soaring.

[inf3ct3dd]

HOT TO GO!

warnings: gay ppl (ewwww omg 🙄🙄)

authors note: im a sucker for a barista au, what can i say 😕 also im obsessed w this song rn

5,6,5-6-7-8!

you started prepping the coffee beans, pouring them into a large class container while you moved your head back and forth, music blasting through your headphones.

you loved working the opening shift. most people definitely would not, but giving that you had an insane sleep schedule and were already awake at 4am, you decided to take it.

your favorite part? you worked by yourself.

you had always loved doing weird shit in your room. acting out fake scenarios, having fake concerts, dancing around to music, girly shit!!! but having a roommate, a very reserved quiet girl named amy who went to sleep at 9pm every night (weirdoooo…) you didn’t have very much…freedom.

but the opening shift? you could be as weird as you wanted to. it was basically like your room, if your room was a coffee shop.

you walked into the supply room, still dancing around to your music. you were grabbing random milks and flavorings to bring back to the front, when you started singing into one of the milk containers as you walked back.

you set it down in its proper place, now spinning yourself around and checking that everything was in its place. you bounced on your feet, music still blaring in your ears.

“H-O-T-T-O-G-O U CAN TAKE ME HOT TO GO!”

you suddenly had a background in cheer, singing along to the chant in the song and shaping your arms into the letters, adding in your own random choreography you made up.

you look at the clock, reading [4:45 AM], indicating you’ll be opening soon.

most people didn’t show up til at least 5:30, so you knew you had nothing to worry about, deciding to make yourself a drink.

well, what you cant see cant hurt you, right?

a girl approached the glass entrance of the coffee shop, stopping to read the hours.

you were still lost in your own world, mixing your chai latte while dancing and singing behind the counter. you were very into it, committing to the fake choreo you made yourself for the chorus. you mixed your chai and oat milk together, shaking them in the mixing cup while moving your hips back and forth and switching sides with the cup you were shaking.

the girl quickly noticed you, and a smile crept onto her face as she watched you move around. you didn’t notice her at all, still lost in your musical barista-ing.

you effortlessly scooped some ice into your cup, pouring the latte over it and putting a cap on. you’re moving in an almost perfect rhythm, your movements matching the beats of the song. a cheesy smile is plastered as you finish, drawing a smiley-face on your cup before taking a sip.

you look up to the clock, seeing its now 5:00, and you have to move the “open” sign. you take a sip of your drink first, closing your eyes in contentment as you taste it.

“perfect!”

the girl is still looking at you through the glass, enamored by how happy you are at 5 in the morning. you completely contrasted her. your bright sweater under your overalls, curls pulled up into a high ponytail, and glasses now sitting low on your nose seemed to fit your personality (or her rough impression of it from staring at you for five minutes) perfectly. she almost wishes you don’t notice her, you seem so in your element.

her wishes are not obeyed, as you look over at the door and lock eyes with her almost immediately, slightly jumping at her sudden presence and the fact that she was most definitely staring at you.

how long has she been there….

you lower your headphones onto your neck, music still leaking through.

you look at the girl for a second, taking in her features (or what you can see from across the cafe), and the main note you got was gay.

and kinda hot.

she had redish-brown hair, cut into a mullet stopping at the bottom of her neck. her jade-green eyes were staring right at you, and they perfectly complimented the brown freckles adorning her face. she had layered a dark grey long sleeve with a black band tee, with a pair of greyish-blue jeans and some seriously fucked up converse.

you quickly snap out of your daze, setting your drink down and walking over to the door. you flip the open sign over so it reveals the “open” side to the people entering, and unlock the door for the girl.

“sorry for the uh…wait? i dunno how long you were out there.”

she lightly giggles before walking into the store.

“yeah, you seemed like you were having a good time.”

you offer a laugh in response, walking behind the order counter.

she definitely saw me.

“you know what you want?”

you slightly wince at your words, feeling not very customer-service-y. your nerves were getting the best of you.

“hm…i dunno, whats that?”

ellie gestures towards your drink.

“my favorite! its just a chai latte, but i put oat milk and brown sugar syrup!”

you smile, content with your reply. it clearly rubs off on the brunette, as she smiles back at you.

“does it come with a performance?”

you roll your eyes at her response, laughing slightly.

“nah, gotta pay extra for that.”

you type her order into the cashier, still smiling.

“how much?” she jokingly asks, making the both of you giggle.

you look down at her hands on the counter , fingers slightly tapping it, the sound of her silver rings hitting it quietly repeating.

those are some homosexual hands.

“can i get that hot though? my professors classroom’s fuckin freezing.”

you laugh again, giving her a nod and changing the order in the system.

“is that it, window stalker?”

she chuckles at you.

“should be, twinkle toes.”

you roll your eyes at her, grabbing a cup and your pen.

“you got a real name, or should i just put that?”

“ellie. do you have a real name?”

you give her your name, writing hers down on the cup, along with a heart and some sparkles.

she repeats your name, nodding before paying and leaning on the counter of the pickup area.

you make her drink, still moving around a bit as you make it. you cant help it!!! you’re happyyyy :))

ellies really taking the stalker thing to heart, trying her hardest not to stare. but she CANT, you just look too perfect to not admire. shes never seen someone this giddy at work.

you decide to make a simple heart design with the milk, expertly pouring it into a perfect shape.

you proudly walk over to the pickup area, setting the drink down in front of you.

“here.”

you slide the drink in front of her, a proud smile plastered on your face.

she stares at the drink, face practically lighting up.

“wow, all this for me?”

she says, fake shocked.

a heart? is this how baristas flirt?

“cute drink for a cute girl.”

you look back at her, and see her features overcome by a slight red tint.

she smiles back at you, taking the cup into her hands and turning it over to see her name on the side, adorned with hearts and sparkles. adorable.

without a second thought you walk over to your cashier station. ellies shocked by your sudden disappearance, and slightly disappointed. but she cheers up when she sees you’re writing something down.

you walk back over to her, number in hand, and a cheesy grin on your face.

“here. so you don’t have to sit outside and stare at me anymore.”

she graciously accepts the paper, putting it in her pocket.

“who said this is gonna stop me? i enjoyed the show.”

[yourleftpinkytoe-blog]

Pinkytoe’s top ten Aftg hot takes

Read with caution I’m very passionate about my thoughts and did not hold back on my opinions. This is not an attack on people who think differently it is me putting my perspective out there.(with some harsh wording)

1: The rift in Andrew and Aaron’s relationship is just as much Aaron’s fault as it is Andrew’s.

A lot of the time I see people framing Aaron as Andrew’s victim which is a weird interpretation of their relationship to me. It’s not just Andrew controlling Aaron, it is also Aaron fundamentally not understanding that Andrew is a person who has thoughts and feelings. Aaron fundamentally doesn’t understand that Andrew is not doing everything in his power to hurt Aaron he’s just trying not to lose Aaron. So with that understanding Aaron goes out of his way to hurt Andrew like aaron thinks he’s doing to him. The whole dynamic is toxic but neither is exclusively the perpetrator or the victim. The deal is a double edged sword and when people pretend otherwise it feels like it’s doing a disservice to the reality of the situation.

2: Erasing Aaron’s homophobia is not the take that some people think it is.

I see a lot of people making claims that Aaron isn’t homophobic he just doesn’t like hearing about his family’s sex lives. But I feel like people are blinded by their love of his character to see that his homophobia is a character flaw of his. He was raised by Tilda. Tilda was raised with Luther. It would not surprise me if she saw extremely homophobic. Also it takes place in 2006/7 casual homophobia was so fucking rampant… obviously he’s gonna have some uncomfortable opinions on gay people. But being homophobic is not a permanent state of being he can and probably will grow from where he is in canon. Pretending his comments in canon arn’t what they are is taking a layer from his characterization.(plus a layer from the rift in Andrew and Aaron’s relationship is Aaron’s homophobia soooo)

3: Thea was not nearly as bad as some people make her out to be and the whole situation reeks of racism

Yall I said it once and I’ll say it again. THEA AND KEVIN DIDNT START DATING TILL KEVIN WAS A COLLAGE FRESHMAN AND SHE WAS A SINIOR. They were both consenting adults who were in the same shitty traumatizing situation. Stop saying she’s a pedo stop acting like her being mad that he practically cut her out of his life for a year is unjustified. there relationship doesn’t seem perfect but it is not how some people portray it. Stop ur being racist to the only canon black woman!

4: all the hate that the fandom has for Thea should be amplified and given to Roland.

Now let’s see… Roland was 23 when he and a 16 year old Andrew started hooking up. Now that’s some pedo shit. Not only that, but Roland was if fucking boss at the time. Andrew had to tie Roland down in order to make Roland not touch him. You know the teenager he’s hooking up with. I said it once and I’ll say it again, fuck that bitch he’s a shitty shitty person who deserves all the hate the fandom could give him.

5: Hating Riko and thinking he got what was coming for him in the end and understanding that he’s a victim in his own way are not mutually exclusive. I can hate that fucker and still feel bad for him.

I think I explained this in the description well enough

6: Neil’s demisexuality/demiromatisism is non-negotiable. That shit is an important part of his character and erasing it for the sake of shipping is weird as hell.

I can’t even count the amount of times I’ve seen people just take away Neil’s demi identity’s because they want to read about him fucking everyone except the one character he’s been show to have romantic/sexual feelings for. Like I’ve seen people so upset he didn’t end up with Kevin and I’m just like yeah… cause he’s not into Kevin. Makes sense to me. I see so much…

*insert quote about how Neil have and idol like admiration for Kevin and his exy skills*

“Omg Neil wants to fuck Kevin sooooo bad it’s canon*

Like honestly ship whatever but don’t try to change the canon to justify it. Have your fun stop being stupid.

7: While Nicky’s actions in the first book inexcusable, the rampant mischaracterization of him to make him worse than canon is not cool.

This isn’t as big of an issue to me but I see people portraying Nicky as like an actual sexual predator and not just a person who lacks understanding of personal boundaries. What he did to Neil is super fucked up and I’m not excusing him (or anything he did in the first book tbh) but changing him to make the situation more back and white than it is is odd to me.

8: on a similar topic you can not compare what Nicky did in Columbia to what Andrew did.

Andrew had a justified reason for what he did. He is protecting Kevin from the fucking mafia and this shady Kid shows up with a stalker binder and a shit ton of money all while looking like he came off the street. It’s suspicious as hell. Also I want to add that he is on mind and mood altering drugs. The situation is fucked and looking at it from Neil’s perspective it’s even more so cause we know he is not involved in a malicious way, but Andrew didn’t. He acted with every justification while Nicky did not, the only reason Nicky did what he did is cause he wanted to. Both are not good but you can’t compare the two.

9: While kevins alcoholism is not good, the way his fans frame it is grossly misrepresenting the situation.

In the books Kevin is not in a mental state to handle getting sober on top of everything else. His alcoholism is bad and everyone knows it but it is the only thing getting him through things without causing him to shut down. It’s not good but if it’s what he needs to get through this then that’s what he needs. When he’s not in the middle of a mob war he’ll be in a better position to handle himself without alcohol. He’s not a helpless bbg he’s a grown man just trying to get by and if it helps it helps.

10: I do not get the hype around Kevin.

This might be my most controversial take tbh…Like he’s a cool character. And I love him as much as the other foxes but I don’t understand the recent wave of him getting babygirlified. Is it the queen symbolism? Is it just cause he’s conventionally attractive? Is it cause that one scene in the kings men where he was cunty as fuck? No clue.

but yall have fun I may not get it but it is entertaining as shit

[norman-fucking-reedus]

omg since your requests are open,,, idk but imagining a female reader fucking herself infront of Daryl while he is chained to chair drives me insane to think about.. like reader's feet are on his knees and daryl feels her every movement but dang he can't do anything and the reader is a bit dominant.. i'd love if you wrote smth like this. im obsessed with ur writing!!

Anon lets make out rn cause ive had this idea for a while ESPECIALLY based off this picture??? Like hello??

I changed it up a little since i got the hottest idea in the middle of writing so I hope it makes you kick your feet in the way the way I did while writing this 😽 (I SAW UR OTHER REQUEST TOO BABE YK I GOTCHU 🫶🏾)

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Dammit girl! Untie me” Daryl thrashed in the wobbly chair, growling from where it sat at the edge of the bed in front of you. You simply watched him struggle in the tight ropes, becoming redder by the second. “I like you tied up. Even more when you’re my personal chair” You ran a hand across his lap and winked.

Daryl grunted when you straddled him, hands pulling at their restraints. You could feel his bulge growing as you slowly ground your hips down, a strained groan coming from him. You cupped his chin and placed a few soft kisses on his lips, moving to his neck and back up to his lips, only pulling away from him. “Tha hell ya doin’ ta me?” Daryl watched as you opened the dresser drawer and tossed two objects on the bed, sitting down next to them.

You couldn’t hold back the wicked smile that fought onto your face as you stood up and removed each article of clothing, tauntingly slowly.

Daryl’s watched you, closely, breathing picking up as you slid your pants down, and moved to undo your bra. He watched as you teased the hem of your undies, sitting down in front of him again.

His cheeks heated up when you kicked a leg up, ankle resting on his shoulder as you spread yourself, running a finger down your slit through your panties. Daryl watched, hands fidgeting with rope as he became uncomfortably hard in his jeans. He wanted to touch you, feel all over your body and maybe inside.

You continued massaging yourself until the fabric was soaked, and Daryl’s breathing was the loudest thing in the room. His face was red and a thin layer of sweat was present on his whole body. Suddenly all his clothes didn’t fit right.

He could do nothing but watch as you pushed your underwear to the side, erotically spreading your pussy lips before reaching to grab one of the objects. It was a long, white vibrator you had “found” at the start, but really you just stole it from the sex shop when everything went to shit. It roared to life in your hands, and you leaned forward to press it onto Daryl’s bulge, soaking in the way he threw his head back and his body jerked.

You kept it there only for a minute, leaning back and bringing it down to your cunt, massaging between your folds and moaning when it reached your clit, holding it in place as you brought your fingers to your entrance, easily slipping in.

The scene was something out of a porno, and Daryl swore his mouth was beginning to water as he just watched you. The way he could feel the strong vibrations travel through your leg, the way he could see your fingers curling and scissoring open, he was starting to get desperately needy.

As you neared your orgasm, you pulled completely away from yourself, chest heaving as you came down, eyes meeting Daryl’s. His pupils had been blown so wide, you weren’t even sure there was color anymore. “Enjoying my show?” You whispered, pulling your leg off his shoulder as you moved to stand over him, bending over the bed so that he had a clear view of your backside. “J’st let me touch ya, doll. Why ya gotta torture me?” He rasped, eyes roaming as he took in the sight of your ass right in front of his face, so close yet so far.

Daryl was impossibly hard in his pants, the scratchy fabric sending lightning through his body whenever he accidentally bumped his tip against it. He was so needy it was starting to hurt, even more when the clear dildo you were bringing to your folds came into view.

You rubbed the silicone up and down against yourself, grinding when you brought it to your clit. You could feel Daryl’s eyes on you as his hands tugged and pulled at the binding ropes, but he had taught you how to tie some real good knots. He could do nothing but pitifully whine as he watched the dildo slowly slide into you, the clearness giving him a whole different show.

He could see the way your pussy stretched around the toy, working it in and out slowly, soft moans coming from you as you did. His cock throbbed as his eyes never left your cunt, wishing that instead of that dildo you would use him like a dildo, riding his sensitive cock for as long as you wanted, fuck he just badly wants to be inside of you.

As if reading his mind, you flipped yourself around so that you could face him, pulling the dildo out as you looked at him, eyes drinking up the messy state he was in. His face was so red, sweat rolling down his forehead as you could tell he was just so hard in his pants. Daryl’s fidgety hands had started to rub his wrists raw against the rope, the pain only adding to his boner. He looked a pure fucking mess. You swelled with pride at that.

Your hands began undoing his pants, pulling them only half down to his knees. For a split second, Daryl thought you were finally going to touch him, even if all you did was grab him through his underwear he just needed to be touched. Instead, he watched as you added some spit to the bottom of your didlo, and suctioned it right onto his muscled thigh, giggling to yourself like a psycho as you straddled it, purposely grinding your dripping cunt on his leg as his wide eyes stared into yours.

You cupped his sweaty face in your hands, wiping it as you just held his face and stared beyond his eyes and down into his soul. He could feel you sink down onto the toy, and watched as your gaze darkened and your eyelids lowered. “You’ve been such a good boy for me Dar. Watching and staying mostly silently. Can you be even better for me and cum without me having to touch your cock?” He desperately shook his head no, traitorous tears pricked his eyes as your pace increased. “Can’t- Need ya- Need ya ta touch m’cock, please mommy I need it so bad” He babbled and you cooed, giving him a warm kiss that he completely melted into.

He always begged so sweetly, and it went straight to your full cunt, however, you had to force yourself not to give in, not when you had already got this far, Your hands moved to grip his shoulders, lifting yourself up and down at a rough velocity, the sound of your ass slapping down on his thigh filled the room and Daryl’s head, his eyes flickered between your face and the way you rode his thigh.

You reached behind you and patted around until you found the vibrator, bringing it to life and pressing it against your clit, the one hand you had still on your boyfriend’s shoulder curled into the flesh, lewd moans pulling from your chest. Daryl felt himself getting dizzy watching you, hair sticking to his forehead and cold pain shooting from his raw wrists. It was so hot, too hot. His vision was beginning to blur, heart pounding so hard he felt like it would come out his chest. His body trembled and he threw his head back when you very lightly pressed the vibrator to his clothed cock, adding fuel to his orgasm as it pumped through his entire fucking soul, tears finally rolling down his cheeks as his cock pulsed itself empty, soaking erotically through the fabric. The toy turned off, and you slowed your hips, watching the way Daryl’s body went limp.

“Very good boy. That’s exactly what I wanted to see, handsome” Your voice was like candy as you whispered in his ear, sighing as you lifted yourself off the dildo with a wet pop, moving to cut Daryl’s hands free as you fully straddled his lap, feeling his release on your puffy pussy. His shaky hands immediately went to your hips, waist, thighs, holy hell your skin felt so good. His poor wrists were red and raw, a small amount of blood forming. “We’re gonna wrap your wrists up. Think your little friend will wanna join us?” You whispered against his lips, pressed down on his soft cock, feeling the cooling cum ooze out from underneath, sticking to your cunt. “If yer talkin’ about m’cock hell yea. Get tha’ fuckin’ dildo off me” He grunted and you realized his legs were also still bound together. You giggled, popping the suction cup off his thigh and stretching to cut the ropes off his ankles.

You moved off his lap so he could finally stand and stretch, kicking his pants completely off and his soiled underwear, which revealed how his cock was dripping in his own release. You were almost on him immediately, falling down onto your knees in front of him. “Your wrists are gonna have to wait a minute”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

I need to fuck his fucking soul into my body NOW 😾

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★