#and feeling SORRY for me and yeah i feel sorry for me to but god i can't deal with that

[classyrbf]

IS THERE SOMEONE ELSE! — GOJO SATORU

SYNOPSIS...you and gojo get into a fight after realizing that he’s been hiding something about your relationship the entire time

INFO...gojo x fem!reader, angsty, arguing, breaking up(?), not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

You slam the door to the penthouse, your heels clicking against the mahogany floors with each step. You toss your purse on the couch, hearing Gojo opening the front door and shutting it quickly. “Baby, please just listen to me.” He pleads, following after you.

“I don’t wanna hear your bullshit excuse, Satoru.” You roll your eyes, plopping down on the edge of the bed to relieve your sore feet of the heels you’ve been wearing all night to your boyfriends opening event he’s been planning for months now.

“I’m not trying to make excuses. Please.” He walks over towards you and toss your heel at him. “Stop throwing shit and just talk to me!”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do!” You stand to your feet, glaring daggers at him. “Do you know how embarrassing that was for me? God, you’re a fucking asshole.” You seethe, narrowing your eyes. “I sat there all alone, while you let some woman feel up on you the entire night? Are you out your fucking mind?” You scoff.

“She’s just an old friend, y/n. I swear I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” He shakes his head at you, grabbing onto your arms tightly.

“Oh, yeah? So I when I came up and introduced myself as your girlfriend none of your friends were looking at me like I was crazy? I know we’ve been only together for a year, Satoru, but that’s fucking low.” You pull away from him. “They didn’t even know who I was. Then you got miss prissy bitch clearly flirting with you in front of me and you didn’t do a damn thing to stop it!” You brush past him, stomping over towards the bathroom.

“Slow down, y/n! Baby—”

“I’m not your fucking ‘baby’, Satoru.” You gather all of your products from the bathroom, from your makeup and skincare to your clothes and shampoo.

“Stop for just one second.” He spins you around so you’re facing him. “Don’t leave. I swear you’re the only girl for me. I know I fucked up, I know I did. I embarrassed you, made you look stupid and I am so fucking sorry. But please do not leave.” He cups your face gently and his touch feels so inviting, but you can’t forgive him that easily. “I only want you. I only need you.”

You look up at him through your lashes, swallowing thickly as you bite the inside of your cheek. “Should’ve thought about that when you let her kiss your cheek and you smiled at her. Right in front of me. Get the fuck off of me.” You push him, rushing to grab your bag from the closet.

Gojo lets out a tired sigh, following you. He wasn’t going to let you go. Not like this. “I shouldn’t have let her near me.”

“Why was she so comfortable with being that close to you, huh?” You question, furrowing your brows as you turn to look at him. “Now that I think about it. Let me guess, you two were more than just friends.” You stand to your feet, snatching your clothes off the hangers and shoving them into your bag. He looks at you, opening his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. And from the look in his eyes, you already knew the truth. A bitter laugh leaves your lips, shaking your head in disappointment.

“It was before you! Before us! We never dated it was just a small thing between me and her!” He tried to explain. “Baby, I swear! Once I met you, everything changed. I cut her off and focused all my attention on you. You’re the only who has my heart.” He grabbed your wrist only for you to pull away.

“Clearly I ain’t the only who who’s got your dick, though.” You slam the closet door shut, turning your back towards him.

“Don’t say that, y/n. That’s the first time I’ve seen her in years!”

“Yeah? Well all your friends sure know about her. She must’ve been great in bed, Satoru. Me? Well, they looked at me like I was a fucking ghost!” You scoff. “Like I was some delusional bitch who came up to you and said I was your girlfriend!” You throw your hands up in disbelief. “You must take me for fucking joke. It must be written on my forehead or something!”

“I don’t take you for a joke! You’re my goddamn girlfriend. You live with me. You have my initial around your fucking neck! I love you and you know that!” He takes a step towards you.

“Do I know that?” You ask aloud, cocking your head to the side.

“What—of course I love you. What the fuck are you saying?” He looked at you with pure confusion.

“You’re a joke. One of your friends, Shoko, pulled me aside and told me the only reason you got with me is because your little fling ended up getting a boyfriend herself around the time we started dating. You’re a piece of shit.” You revealed the truth to him, watching him stare at you blankly, lost for words. “Think I wouldn’t find out?” You ripped off the necklace with his initial, tossing it at him.

“Yes, I was upset that she got a boyfriend but—”

“So you had feelings for her. And just to cover them up, you got with me as a distraction.” You step closer towards him. “Listen to me, Satoru, don’t ever try and contact me again, keep whatever fucking gifts you bought me and return them, sell them, do whatever because I am done,” you spoke through gritted teeth.

“No, no, no, baby. You can’t leave me. Yea I liked her before, but so fucking what? I was never in love with her, not like I am with you. I was too fucking stupid. I still am! Just give me another chance to fix this. I don’t want us to end this way.” He grabs your packed bag from your hands and tosses it on the bed.

“Let me go, Satoru.”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I can’t. You’re everything to me. She’s nothing compared to you.” He sniffles, holding your hands in his. “I love you so much and I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you the truth. I’m sorry I embarrassed you. And I’m sorry for entertaining the idea that she could even come close to you. She can’t.” His hands cupped your face, his heart pounding in anticipation as he waited to hear any words from you.

You reached up, pulling his hands away from your face. “Bye, Satoru.” You walked past him, grabbing your bag off of the bed. As much as it hurt to leave, you knew you had to respect yourself. Time and space was what you needed to think. With each step out the door, you could hear Gojo’s sobs, something you’ve never heard before in the year you’ve been with him. For the strong, flashily and confident man he is, you never once thought you’d see or him break down. Especially not for you.

[no-144444]

lies and flights- o.piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! Skyf1interviewer! reader

summary: you two have a moment, the moment ends, and so does something else...

part one | part two | part three | part four

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He sighed as he walked into the paddock, cameras all over him as question after question was thrown at him. He answered as many as were appropriate and off he went, signing hats and t-shirts as he went. He had so much to do, so much to get through before qualifying, yet all he could think about was you. He didn’t mean to make it a big deal, he just wanted to take care of you. You’d fainted, for god’s sake. He was worried about you. 

He caught a glimpse of you walking in with Lando as he was filming some random content for one of the sponsor's instagram pages, and his mood sank lower than it already had been. You with Lando. 

It’s not like either of you had confessed, but you’d both felt the chemistry between the two of you, right? He finished up with filming and followed Tom into one of the meeting rooms, ready to look over data, when he (literally) bumped into you, sending you flying. 

“Shit, sorry,” he muttered as he caught you, holding you by the waist. “My bad.”

You smiled. “Saving me two days in a row? You should be a bodyguard instead of a driver,” you chuckled. “Thanks Osc.”

Lando’s jaw dropped when he heard you call him ‘Osc’, and a sense of pride bloomed in his chest. Osc was getting the girl! Lando sent him a quick thumbs up behind your back as he also held the camera. 

“What’re you doing here?” Oscar asked, not yet letting go of you. His hands were so warm, radiating heat through your whole body and making you nervous. You had a love-hate relationship with interactions with Oscar. He made you so nervous, no matter what. Your years of media training and professionalism could get stripped back by one small chuckle, one small smile, making eye contact. It was embarrassing. You liked him so much, which was a separate can of worms itself, and he looked at you the same way he looked at everyone.

“Motorhome tour,” you explained, looking up at him. He could’ve sworn he saw something in your eyes, something that practically asked him to make a move, to kiss you here in front of everyone. Then it was gone just as quickly as it appeared, your professionalism taking precedence over your feelings. “Moving on,” you turned back to the camera as Oscar dropped his hands from your waist, allowing you to move on. “To the driver’s rooms!”

He chuckled as he watched you and Lando run towards the other side of the motorhome, and Oscar started walking again, not unaware of the eyes Tom was giving him. 

“You two seem close,” he smirked. “The shoes aren’t a dealbreaker, no?”

He laughed. “Why does everyone bring up the shoes?!”

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“Congratulations on P3, Judgy McJudgy Pants! How did the race feel?” you questioned. You were doing post-race interviews today, and Oscar had gone from P5 to P3. 

“Yeah, it was difficult but we kept a good pace, Max was just too fast to catch,” he nodded, his eyes staring into yours. 

“I’m glad to hear, are you glad for the race to be over?”

He nodded, chuckling. “Very glad.”

“The heat must be something else in those cars, on top of the regular heat. Does that make getting out of the car a lot more of a relief?” 

“It does, but I was more excited about the interviewer,” he smirked. He was not doing this right now. He was not flirting with you on live television. You got the signal that the interview should end and you let out a quick breath of relief. 

“Well thank you, but I in fact need to interview your fellow podium drivers, thanks for your time.”

Lando walked over, ready to take the mic and he smirked at Oscar. “Getting bold?”

He shrugged with a smile. “What’s the worst she can say?” 

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"Oscar Jack Piastri!" Nicole's voice rang out as he lifted his phone to his ear. "My son flirting with people on live television is not something I want to see."

He chuckled as he mother continued berating him, and they chatted about the race for a while, before he had to go to the airport. When he walked to his door, ready to leave, he wasn't expecting a knock at the door, nor was he expecting it to be you.

"Hey Y/n," he smiled. "How are you?"

"I'm good thank, you?" you were out of breath. Had you ran here?

"I'm great, thanks. Are you alright?"

You came in and closed the door behind you. "What are you playing at?"

"Excuse me?"

"The interviews, the pictures, everything. What are you doing?" you questioned.

"Isn't it obvious?" he chuckled. "I like you, like, like like you. I thought I made that clear?"

You grimaced and his heart sank.

"It's fine if you don't-"

"Oscar, no, just... it's kind of awful timing and we can't be together, right? That would never work, we hate each other, right?" you rationalised, willing him to agree with you.

As much as he wanted to scream and rip his hair out, he nodded, a flat smile on his face. "Exactly, that's why I was just joking."

You breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God!" you chuckled. "Well, congratulations on the win and I'll see you in Qatar, thanks Osc."

"Bye," he smiled half-heartedly, then flung himself back on his bed when you left. You didn't like him back. And what did you mean by 'bad timing'? He spent his entire flight, awake and wondering about what you meant, and thinking over every interaction, wondering if he'd really just made it all up in his head.

But the way you looked at him, it couldn't just be platonic, right?

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yourusername

liked by pierregasly, charlesleclerc, landonorris, oscarpiastri and 2,928,733 others

yourusername: @.f1, you've been my home for many years and I love you, thank you for starting my career, but also for being my favourite series of motorsports since I was a little girl. But now @.skysports is branching out and I'm moving across the pond at the end of this season to cover @.Indycar and @.nascar ! I'll miss everyone so much, but I am so so so excited to see that the future will bring! 6 races left! (also sad to be missing the historic season that 2025 will be, but oh well!)

comments

user83: oh I'll kms.

pierregasly: we'll miss you xxx liked by: valterribottas, zhouguanyu, landonorris, danielriccardo, charlesleclerc, carlossainz, alexalbon, francocolapinto, liamlawson, yukistunoda, estebanocon, fernandoalonso, jensonbutton, aussiegrit, kevinmagnussen, nicohulkenburg, lewishamilton, georgerussell, kimiantonelli, olliebearman, isakhadjar, paularon, arthruleclerc, lancestroll, checoperez, maxverstappen, alexandrastmleux, kikagomez, lilymhe, rebeccadonaldson.

skysportsf1: We'll miss you most! xxx

tedkravitz: It's been a privilege and an honour to work with you. You truly are the funniest person I've ever met. Your segment on Ted's notebook will be thoroughly missed. You will be thoroughly missed.

charlesleclerc: Bonne chance mon amour! ❤️

yukistunoda: who will organise interviews with me and pierre now? 😿 -> yourusername: I'll ask ted :(

danielriccardo: legend of the sport :) -> yourusername: looking in a mirror are we?

mercedesfmg: we'll miss you y/n! 🩵

mclaren: missing you already! 🧡

user72: guys... has anyone told oscar? -> user21: he must be so upset :( -> user92: yeah his best friend and his crush leaving F1 in the same year.

stakef1: missing you 💚 -> yourusername: manifesting hulkenburg podium next year

lewishamilton: I'll miss you, but you definitely have to come back for some hot laps... maybe Austin next year? -> yourusername: I'm there :)

maxverstappen: sad to see you go, but i can't wait for all the stories :)

landonorris: FUCK I'M CRYING WHAT I'M GOING TO MISS YOU TOO MUCH PLEASE DON'T GO -> yourusername: IT'LL BE FINE LANDO YOU'RE A BIG BOY

patooward: YAY WE GET Y/N!

haasf1team: our favourite interviewer ever ❤️

alpine: missing you loads 🩷

jackdoohan: NO I'M FINE THAT MY BEST FRIEND IS MISSING MY ROOKIE SEASON -> yourusername: I'LL BE IN MELBOURNE AND AT THE LAST FEW RACES!!! -> jackdoohan: ...forgiven.

liamlawson: NO DON'T LEAVE ME HERE ALONE -> yourusername: JACK WILL BE THERE NEXT YEAR CALM DOWN

kimiantonelli: miss you xxx

olliebearman: will be in need of your smoothie recipe since you won't be here to make it :( -> yourusername: I'll send it to you :)

user829: someone check on oscar rn...?? -> user36: fr he's probably sobbing his celeb crush is leaving the paddock for good ->user292: BRO IS IN THE LIKES !!!!!!

redbullracing: we'll be staying tuned to watch shine -> user88: wow a better send-off than daniel got lmao

logansargeant: CANT WAIT TO SEE YOU AGAIN 😁😁😁😁 -> yourusername: ME NEITHER

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He stared at his phone in shock.

What. The. Fuck.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

part one | part two | part three | part four

[aplaceinme]

“I’m just saying… there’s a reason why people say ‘three times it’s a charm’ Evan.”

“And I’m just saying I don’t want to risk it, Tommy,” Evan huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“C’mon, what could possibly happen?” Tommy insists. 

“Hmmm…let me think… oh, yeah, I got it! Given our track record, we break up for good,” Evan says exasperated. 

“That won’t happen again, Evan. We’ve talked things out. Everything has been laid out on the table. We are better than ever,” Tommy says softly, walking up to Evan and tenderly cupping his cheeks, “We are good! Nothing bad will happen, I promise.” 

Evan tries to resist, his pout really pronounced but he can’t fight the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“Fine! Fine! We will go and have dinner at Miceli’s again,” Evan relents, throwing his arms up in the air. “But if things go south again, it will be all your fault, ok?” 

Tommy leans in and kisses him softly, letting the kiss linger a little. “Ok, if something happens, it will be my fault.”

Evan goes to his bedroom to change his clothes, all the while angrily muttering, “Thousand of places in L.A. to go but no! We have to go back to that place… all because the pizza is good… fuck that place.”

“Did you say something?” Tommy asks, trying not to laugh at Evan’s adorableness. 

“Nothing… except… We are not getting spumoni, Tommy!” Evan yells from his bedroom.

Head thrown back in laughter, Tommy sits down in one of the barstools to wait for him to be finished. “Fine but, again, everything will be alright, love.”

“Yeah, yeah, you keep saying that! But you know what else people say? Famous last words! That’s what they say,” Evan says before closing the bathroom room. 

Nodding, Tommy quietly says under his breath as if trying to convince himself, “It will be alright.” 

—

“Will you stop muttering? We are here, and everything has been ok so far, right?” 

“Yeah, so far,” Evan says stubbornly. At Tommy’s raised eyebrow, his shoulders relax. “Sorry, sorry. You’re right! Everything is fine. We are together and everything is fine.”

Tommy holds Evan’s hand across the table and intertwines their fingers. “Exactly.” 

“I’m just glad we aren’t going to the movies after this. I think they also bring bad luck to us,” Evan teases, though he also seems to be serious. 

Wanting to tease him back, Tommy says, “Actually, I saw that they are playing this movie that I wanted to check out…”

“Do not even think about it! Not tonight at least,” Evan points at Tommy seriously. 

“Alright, alright, no movies tonight,” Tommy laughs. “We will just go straight to my place then… find something else to entertain us with.” 

“I’m sure we will,” Evan says with a smirk. 

“Oh my God! I think he’s choking! Somebody help us!” 

Tommy and Evan look over at the table from where the scream came and, after sharing a small glance and a nod, they get up and run over. 

“Move over, make room, make room, we are firefighters,” Evan says loudly, reaching the patient first. 

As Evan starts doing the Heimlich maneuver, Tommy reassures the family and makes sure they give Evan room to work. 

After a couple of agonizing seconds, the man spits out the food and everyone at the restaurant releases a breath of relief and they start to clap.  

Tommy moves over and helps Evan to sit the man down as they start to assess him, asking him if he is feeling alright or if he would rather they call an ambulance. 

Once the man reassures them that he is ok and thanks Evan profusely, they start to walk back to their table. 

“Glad that turned out o-” Evan starts to say but a scream interrupts him. 

“What now?” Tommy asks. 

“Fire in the kitchen!” Someone screams. 

It takes two seconds for chaos to reign. People start to scream and run desperately, pushing tables, chairs, and everything out of their way. 

While Evan calls 911 and starts helping people out of the restaurant, Tommy runs up to the kitchen.

Grabbing a fire extinguisher, Tommy tries to put the fire out, but it’s not enough. The fire is spreading fast, so he just makes sure that no one else is inside the kitchen and then runs outside. 

“Tommy, Tommy,” Evan calls to him and hugs him as soon as he is within reach. 

“Everyone out?” Tommy asks him, quickly looking Evan over to make sure he isn’t hurt. 

“Yeah, I got everyone out and the firefighters should be here any minute now.” 

“Good, good, that’s good!” Tommy says in relief, his adrenaline starting to recede. 

—

Tommy and Evan are standing a few meters away from the restaurant, watching as station 56 put the fire out. The fire spread out so much that the restaurant is absolutely destroyed, Tommy doubts the owners could salvage anything from inside. 

“What is it? I can see you looking at me,” Tommy asks, turning to look at Evan. 

Evan gestures wildly at the restaurant and looks at him incredulously. 

“What?” Tommy plays dumb. 

“What? What?” Evan yelps. “Oh, I don’t know… maybe the fact that the restaurant is literally destroyed. Third’s time a charm, my ass!” 

��Technically, I was right, Evan.” 

“Wha- How?” Evan sputters. 

“Well, nothing bad happened to us. We are ok, there hasn’t been any misunderstanding, no one has confessed anything from their past… we are ok, just like I said we will be,” Tommy reasons.

Evan shakes his head and chuckles, “I can’t believe you! You’re so…” 

“Evan…” Tommy starts but gets interrupted. 

“I love you,” Evan says. 

Tommy does a double take, not expecting that. “What?”

“I love you,” Evan repeats, shrugging his shoulders. 

“This is the first time you’re saying that,” Tommy says, bewildered. 

“I know.” 

“I… I- I…” Tommy looks around them, in disbelief that Evan could love him. 

“You don’t have to say it if you do-”

“I love you too. Of course, I love you,” Tommy tells him quickly, not wanting Evan to doubt it for even one second. 

“Yeah?” Evan beams at him. 

“Yes,” Tommy nods and leans in to kiss him, not caring about the fire, firefighters, bystanders, or anything else. 

Once they part for air, Tommy asks him, “Should we get going? They seem to have everything under control.” 

Evan nods, and they slowly start to walk to where Tommy had parked his truck, with Tommy’s arm around Evan’s waist. 

“Since no one got hurt, I feel ok with admitting that I’m kinda happy that the restaurant went up in flames,” Evan whispers as if it is a secret. 

Tommy chuckles, “Yeah, me too.” 

When they are near the truck, Tommy jokes, “So, what about that movie then?” 

Evan playfully hits him on the shoulder but laughs. “I believe someone said something about finding something to entertained us with at their place?”

“Let’s go then,” Tommy says with a smirk, walking faster towards his truck. 

[wzkfuu]

:3

Basically Leon just getting edged also yes this is probably gonna be ass👅👅

reader is a women and um um this is SMUT SEXUAL THINGS ARE HAPPENING MDNI!!

okay enjoy

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*

Leon’s propped up against his headboard, back at his own apartment. His hand’s wrapped around his cock, pre-come beading at his tip. He bucks up into his fist shallowly, cussing softly to himself as pleasure washes over him.

His eyes flutter shut, images of her , flashing through his mind. Her touching him, feeling him. Her warmth against him, Her soft hands around his cock, whispering dirty obscenities into his ear. In his free hand, he holds his phone— tilted to his ear with the voice message she had sent him recently. He moans aloud, tilting his head back as he replays it over and over again. He loves it, he loves her voice. His other hand thats wrapped around his cock starts stroking faster, his hips bucking up abortedly— he’s so fucking close.

"...oh fuck, —," She hears Leon moan, hearing the whimpers and groans on the other end. Unbeknownst to Leon, while listening to her voice recording, he had pressed call. She had picked it up of course.

“Leon? Is everything alright?” He hears from the other side of the line.

Leon freezes, eyes wide. Holy shit. He’d accidentally called her and she picked up. She heard him. Oh god. He was so close, too. He wanted to just let it go, let himself fall over the edge with her voice in his ear, but his pride stops him. He can’t let her know how fucked up he is, how much he needs this...needs her.

"Uh...yeah. everything's fine." He says breathlessly, trying to play it cool. He clears his throat, hoping she doesn’t notice how ragged it sounds. "Sorry, I must've hit the call button by accident. What's up?"

He keeps stroking himself, slower now, savoring the sensation. It's not the same as when she touches him, but it'll have to do. He bites his lip, stifling another moan as he imagines her watching him, seeing what he's doing. The thought sends a shiver down his spine.

“Leon are you..are you jerking off right now?” She says whispering the last bit

Leon freezes, eyes widening. Fuck. How did she know? He swallows thickly, his mouth suddenly dry. "I...uh...I don't know what you're talking about..." He lies unconvincingly, his voice strained. He can't deny it, not with the evidence right there in her ear. His ragged breathing, the slick slide of his hand over his cock. He's been caught red-handed.

A part of him wants to hang up, to escape this humiliation. But another part, a darker, needier part, wants to embrace it. Wants her to know exactly what she do to him. He groans softly, his hips twitching up into his fist. "Maybe I am..." He admits, his voice barely above a whisper. He's trembling now, his orgasm building despite his best efforts to hold it back.

"Fuck, baby ... I can't help it. I think about you all the time. About your hands on me, your mouth..." He pants, losing himself in the fantasy. He's so close, teetering on the edge. He just needs a little more. "I'm gonna...I'm gonna cum. Please, say something else. Anything..." He begs, too far gone to care how desperate he sounds.

“Didn’t know you’d be the type for phone sex Leon. , you’re a little naughty aren’t you?” God , he can practically hear her smirking from here.

Leon groans at her words, his grip on his cock tightening. Fuck, she sounds so good. So dirty. He loves this side of her, loves seeing her let her guard down. Loves knowing that he's the one who brings it out in her.

"Yeah...yeah, I am. I'm fucking naughty. Especially when it comes to you." He growls, his voice low and rough with desire. He starts stroking faster, chasing his release. He's so close, he can feel it building at the base of his spine. His balls draw up tight, his body tensing.

"I want you, baby. I want to bend you over and fuck you until you can't walk straight. I want to make you scream my name." He pants, his words coming out in broken gasps. He's right on the edge, teetering, waiting for her permission to let go.

"Please... please tell me to cum. I need it. I need you baby..please..." He begs, his voice breaking. He's shaking now, his body wound tight with tension. He's never needed anyone like this before. Never wanted someone so badly. He needs her so so badly, needs her touch, her approval. Needs everything she can give him.

“No. You’re gonna wait since you lied to me at first .” She smiles lying down on her own bed feeling the wetness in her panties slowly circling around her clit.

Leon whines as she denies him release, his cock throbbing in frustration. He's so fucking close, he can taste it. But she’s right, he did lie to her. He deserves this punishment.

"Fuck, baby. Please, I'm sorry. I'll take it back, I swear. Just let me cum." He begs, his voice high and needy. He hates how desperate he sounds, but he can't help it. His body is on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release.

He keeps stroking himself, teasing the sensitive head. He knows he shouldn't, knows he'll just make it worse. But he can't stop. He's addicted to the sensation, to the pleasure.

"I'll do anything, baby. Anything you want. Just please, don't leave me like this. I need you." He sobs, his hips bucking up into his hand. He's a mess, he knows. A pathetic, whimpering mess. But he doesn't care. All he cares about is her , about pleasing her.

He's shaking now, his body wracked with need. He's never felt anything like this before, never been so consumed by desire. He needs her, needs her touch, her approval.

"Baby.., please... I'll be good. I promise. I'll make it so good for you. Just tell me what to do..." He pleads, his voice breaking. He's begging now, shameless in his need. He'll do anything she asks, anything at all. As long as she doesn’t leave him hanging like this , desperately stroking his cock with all that pathetic whining.

“Don’t do anything. I’ll be there soon.” He hears before the call ends now sitting there waiting.

[hannieehaee]

HI!! how are you??

do you mind doing a poly seventeen relationship with vernon and chan and they spoil her alot?? (smut tho)

thank you!! i love you and your blog <3

18+ / mdi

content: bf!vernon and bf!chan, smut, afab reader, oral (f receiving), handjob, mentions of m receiving oral, mentions of shower sex, etc.

wc: 886

a/n: i couldn't help but write them bickering bc i i just know they totally would in real life.

masterlist

"dude, what the fuck? i thought you guys were going to work today. hyung, you literally have a solo song coming up!"

chan's whines were not enough to get you to stop kissing vernon's neck as you cuddled into him on the couch, nor where they enough for vernon, apparently. his hands were very intent on feeling every inch of your tits, something which you did not want chan to take away from you.

"just did some recording from the home studio," was all vernon said in reply, hands now reaching your ass to pull you on top of him, lips finding yours in a kiss.

"i will not be a third wheel in my own home," he grumbled, "move over, you've had her all day."

he made his way to the couch, sitting on the other side of you as he fought vernon for your attention. after a bit of back and forth, vernon gave you one last kiss before leaving you in chan's arms, pleased enough to have had you to himself all day.

it's not like chan and vernon never shared you at the same time, but they just so happened to both be a little possessive. they preferred to take turns to ensure they could each be fully satisfied. and you? you had no complaints.

"i'm gonna go make some hoco. want some, baby?" he asked as he headed to the kitchen.

"mm, yes, nonnie," you interrupted a heady kiss from chan to respond.

"for me too!," said the aforementioned boy before kissing you again.

vernon chuckled and shook his head as he left, taking note that he should probably ask you to shower with him later. he wanted the last word after chan had his way with you.

~

"oh, but this is fine? weren't you complaining we took a day off without you literally yesterday?"

now it was vernon's turn to walk in on you and chan. however, this time you were located in the bedroom, with chan deep between your legs as you sat at the edge of the bed.

"sorry, baby. i might've convinced him to stay home since you'd be gone today," you mumbled in between gasps.

"c'mere, baby. my hand is all yours," you gestured him to sit next to you as your other hand held onto chan's head, leading his movements against your cunt.

vernon needed no further encouragement, undoing his pants as he walked over to bed and took a seat next to you, kissing you and letting his hands feel up your tits as you began working him with your own hand — god, he really was a boob guy.

"mmm, missed you today," he hummed between kisses.

"me more, nonn- ah! sorry, channie, fuck, you're being so good for me, baby."

wordlessly, he had demanded for attention while his tongue was deep in you. it was the classic competition for your affection.

"fuck, baby, keep doing that. gonna fuck you later, okay? fuck you to sleep, shit, yeah?", mumbled vernon against your lips. his orgasm was close, you could hear it in his voice. he must've been tired from practicing all day.

"mhm, shit. please," you pleaded before turning your attention to the other boy, "channie, shit, 'm gonna cum soon."

he murmured incoherent words into your folds, nose nudging a particularly sensitive spot as he sped up. you were so into your own pleasure you hadn't realized the poor boy had been using your shoe to hump in order to release his own tension.

you hoped he wouldn't cum from it. you had way better plans for him as soon as you got vernon off with your hand.

a high pitched cry was the last thing you voiced against vernon's lips, soon followed by his own grunts of pleasure as he dirtied your hand with his spunk. he was insistent in kissing you throughout both your orgasms, sometimes not even landing on your lips, but still within the ballpark. it was a disorganized mess, as it usually was with vernon.

chan waited patiently until the two of you got a fill of each other. he'd been enjoying the show you and vernon gave him, lip caught in his teeth up until he reached up to you and stole you away from vernon, instead giving you a taste of yourself through the remnants of his lips.

"stop, i'm the one you should be kissing right now," he complained as vernon chuckled beside you, getting up to get a rag to clean himself with.

"i know, channie," you coo'd, "i'll make it up to you, okay, baby?"

getting up, you held out your hand for him with a smile, leading him to the restroom connected to your room. before entering, you turned back to vernon, nodding at him to follow along and giggling when he lit up at the invitation.

"i'll suck off whoever washes my hair," you proposed once in the bathroom.

you were met with a whiny back and forth between both men, insisting they were the best at washing your hair and that the other had already gotten more than enough attention from you.

in the end, it didn't really matter. you had more than enough in you to satisfy both of them. you just liked to see them bicker over you.

[ham1lton]

SIMPLE !

pairings: jude bellingham x lewis hamilton’s assistant!reader

summary: after your first few dates with jude, everything seems to be going smoothly. however, there’s just one problem: your boss seems to hate your new boyfriend.

warnings: judeyn being dumbasses.

author’s note: part of my dream girl universe. for best enjoyment, read after the first instalment. assistant2 also makes her first official appearance!!

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📍 berlin, germany.

tagged: judebellingham

liked by ham1ltonshaderoom, jobebellingham and 2,837,918 others.

yourinstagram: the photos he takes of me vs the one i take of him. i think you all can see the better photographer.

view all 1,108,928 comments

user1: LOVE seeing hot people date each other.

-> user11: i love seeing two hot people be BESTIES.

user2: JUDE IS TAKEN ???!!!! NOOOOOOO

-> user3: babe… you didn’t have a chance at all. like please be serious.

-> user13: thank god they aren’t actually dating tho.

user4: my gf <3

-> judebellingham: who even are you.

-> user4: we can share <3 i can keep her satisfied thru the weekend u have the weekdays king.

jobebellingham: love this yn. he looks so depressed and ugly.

-> judebellingham: U JEALOUS ASF 😹

-> jobebellingham: yn i’ll paypal you £50 rn if you post more ugly pictures. which is all his pictures really.

-> yourinstagram: challenge accepted 🫡

lewishamilton: you look good yn!

-> user5: and what about jude??

-> lewishamilton: what about him?

-> user6: NOT YN’S HUSBAND HAVIN BEEF W/ HER BFF 😭

user7: lip combo?!!??

-> yourinstagram: i’m not a gatekeeper. it’s on my tiktok!! my most recent one <3

user8: you did my king so dirty with that one pic…. LMFAO DO IT AGAIN

-> yourinstagram: 🫡🫡

user10: their friendship is so cute!!

user12: yn is moving up in the world!!! from bts delulu to besties with JUDE BELLINGHAM

-> yourinstagram: blocking you! 😃

-> user12: you can block me but you can’t erase ‘hobisbabymama’

-> yourinstagram: HELLO?2&/9£/

user9: WHERE IS LANDO?!

-> user10: she blocked his main and his ten other side accounts because she’s secretly in love with him and wants to leave loser jude for him.

-> user9: hi lando 😁

user10: no roscoe pic?

-> yourinstagram: sorry babe :(( he’s at home with his dad and i’m on holiday. assistant2 has some highlights of him on her page!! <3

judebellingham: why do i look so depressed

-> yourinstagram: idk <3 want to get ice cream?

-> judebellingham: .. yeah

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title: my girlfriend’s boss (l,39) hates me and it’s ruining my relationship. help?

hi all, i don’t really post on here, but i’m at my wit’s end and need advice. i (j, m21) have been dating my girlfriend (y, f24) for a couple of months now, and it’s been brilliant. she’s smart, funny, beautiful, and honestly the kindest person i’ve ever met. here’s the catch: her boss (l, m39), who also happens to be an insanely famous athlete and very wealthy, clearly hates me.

y works as his personal assistant, and from what she’s told me, l has always been good to her. she’s known him for years, and he’s helped her out a lot in her career. she always says he’s like family, but ever since she introduced me to him, he’s been awful.

it started small, like him calling me “mate” in that condescending way that makes you feel about two feet tall. but last week, i went to pick y up from work, and he gave me this look—you know the type, the kind that says, “you’re not good enough to breathe the same air as her.” i tried to play it off, but it’s eating at me.

another time, we ran into him at a café, and he made this offhand comment about how “footballers aren’t known for their brains.” y tried to laugh it off, but i felt like an absolute idiot.

then there was the incident with the tickets. y mentioned she’d been offered two box seats for a big match, courtesy of l, and we were both so excited to go. but when she told him i was going with her, he suddenly “remembered” he’d promised them to someone else. i know it sounds paranoid, but it feels deliberate.

to make matters worse, y thinks i’m overreacting. she says l is just protective of her because they work closely together, but i can’t help but feel like there’s more to it. she brushes off his weird behaviour, but come on—this is the same man who asked her to taste-test a box of chocolate truffles because he couldn’t decide which to order for himself. (weird, right?)

it’s not just the comments, though. y told me l doesn’t usually care who his staff date, but she mentioned he’s suddenly started asking loads of questions about me, like whether i’ve been in trouble before or if i’m serious about her. it’s like he’s looking for a reason to disapprove. y thinks he’s being protective, but i swear he just doesn’t like me. here’s the problem: i’m pretty sure he hates me. actually, scratch that—i know he hates me.

i’m spiralling here. what if l starts sabotaging our relationship? y says she’s not going anywhere, but i can’t shake the feeling he’s got some weird power over her. am i just being insecure, or is there something seriously wrong here? what do i do?

top comments:

soggy_pigeon: nah, this is classic alpha behaviour. he’s marking his territory. he probably sees her as more than just an assistant, if you know what i mean. tread carefully.

fluffybananas: footballers aren’t known for their brains. maybe he has a point.

spicy_gravy: dude, he’s probably jealous you’ve got abs and a girl who loves you. chill.

randomuser_123: sounds like you’re dating your boss’s work spouse.

tofu_throwaway: i think l’s just jealous because y spends more time with you now. he’s like a toddler upset that someone’s playing with his favourite toy.

ladybantheboys: ok but what if it’s the opposite? like, what if l approves of you but is being mean on purpose to test if you’re good enough for her?

football4ever: j, mate, you’re overthinking. l’s just a famous bloke who doesn’t want to lose his assistant to some random guy. show him you’re not random. take him out for a pint or something.

memequeen420: this reminds me of when i had a cat and got a new dog. the cat hated the dog at first but now they’re best friends. just give it time.

plshelpme1998: have you tried googling “how to win over your girlfriend’s boss”? there’s bound to be a wikiHow.

bananabreadbae: mate, if he wanted her, he’d have made a move by now. maybe he just doesn’t like footballers. not everyone does, you know.

user2847: honestly, the truffle thing makes me think he’s the weird one. does he do this with everyone or just y? if it’s just her, he’s probably got some weird older-brother complex going on.

ultimategoblin69: maybe he wants to adopt you. famous people do weird shit like that.

yogurtbutter: ok but what if you’re the problem? maybe you’re just a bit annoying and he senses it. famous people have great instincts.

iamnotanon: have you considered sabotaging him back? like, nothing serious, but maybe show up in a better suit than him one day. alpha vibes only.

opinionatedowl: this is a power thing. l’s rich and famous, and he’s used to being in charge. stand your ground, but don’t disrespect him. he’s probably testing you.

thecheeseman: it sounds like a bad rom-com where l secretly approves of you but can’t admit it because he’s emotionally constipated. if i were you, i’d play the long game.

spicywaterlover: wait… what if l is secretly in love with y and you’re the obstacle? plot twist.

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edit: wow, ok. this has been a ride. thanks for all the comments, even the wild ones. i think i’ll try the “pint” suggestion, but i draw the line at sabotage. will update if anything changes (or if i get adopted).

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liked by messyassuser, lando11priv and 1,938,882 others.

ham1ltonshaderoom: football star jude bellingham seen cuddling and being affectionate with his new girl! she has been identified as yn yln, she is the personal assistant of f1 icon lewis hamilton. they were spotted outside a restaurant in las vegas after the grand prix all boo’d up! according to sources, they were all loved up at the after party. they ‘didn’t leave each other’s space’. what do we think about this new couple ham1ltons?

view all comments

user1: who tf even is she

-> user2: a baddie. she’s seriously so funny and sweet. you guys should see her tiktok or insta pages. jude is punching above his weight.

user3: oh!

user4: HOTTIES!!!

user5: why they doing the most in public???

-> user6: they’re in love? girl lmao.

-> user7: she’s his beard or he’s hers. idk yet. i need to consult the stars.

-> user8: ^ me when i’m off my meds.

user9: am i the only one who thinks they’re cute? good for them!!

user10: um i think she’d be happier with lando.

-> user11: lando please how are you still making new accounts.

-> user10: i’m totally not the handsome and gorgeous lando. i’m actually… pando. hi.

user12: my gf and my bf are dating??? i’m gonna be sick.

-> user13: they got two hands.

user14: they’re rlly dating???

-> user15: no bitch. they’re just coworkers 🙄

-> user14: oh! thank you :D

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UPDATE: my girlfriend’s boss (l,39) hates me and it’s ruining my relationship. help?

hi all, it’s j again. thanks for the advice on my last post—it was a mix of helpful, hilarious, and… well, a bit unsettling. but it gave me the push i needed to talk to l. here’s what happened:

i decided to man up and ask him out for a pint to clear the air. i figured it was the most normal thing to do. well, turns out l’s teetotal (thanks, y, for not warning me properly). when i suggested a pint, he just looked at me for a second and went, “i don’t drink, mate,” in that calm, terrifying way he has. i panicked, said something about tea, and left feeling like an absolute idiot.

but two days later, he called y at work and told her to invite me round to his place for tea. TEA. this man lives in a house that looks like it’s straight out of a Bond film, so you can imagine how intimidating it was to rock up with a packet of biscuits like some budget offering.

long story short, we had tea, and he cleared the air. he admitted he’d been giving me a hard time because he wanted to make sure i was serious about y. he said she’s like family to him (didn’t say “work spouse,” thank god), and he needed to know i’d treat her right. honestly, it was a bit awkward, but also kind of sweet.

so yeah, we’re good now. he even said he’d save me a seat for the next big race. i don’t know if that was a peace offering or a power move, but i’ll take it.

thanks for the push, reddit. you lot are mad, but in a good way. most of the time.

comments:

ladybantheboys: told you he was testing you! this is literally every rom-com ever. next step: you accidentally bond over an inside joke, and he becomes your biggest fan.

bananabreadbae: this is so british it hurts. “sorry i was mean, let’s have tea.” mate, at least you passed the test!

football4ever: called it! blokes like him just want to make sure you’re solid. now you’re in his good books, you’re set for life. congrats, mate.

memequeen420: so… what kind of biscuits did you bring? was it something boring like digestives, or did you go all out with hobnobs? we NEED to know.

randomuser_123: this is like when my dog hated my boyfriend at first but then they bonded over cheese. sometimes it just takes time.

tofu_throwaway: glad it worked out, but honestly, i’m still a bit scared of l. even through your post, he sounds like he could crush a man with a single stare.

iamnotanon: congrats on passing the test. now don’t mess it up, or i guarantee he’ll make you disappear. rich people have connections.

ultimategoblin69: you went to his house?! are you sure it wasn’t a trap? like, did he subtly scan your fingerprints for future blackmail material?

plshelpme1998: like, this whole thing is giving weirdly protective father vibes. good luck, mate.

user2847: what does his house smell like? no, seriously. i feel like rich people’s houses have that “old money” smell, like leather and expensive wood polish. was it intimidating?

(deleted): send feet pics.

opinionatedowl: so… when’s the wedding? i’m assuming l will walk her down the aisle now that you’ve been knighted into his inner circle.

thecheeseman: this is the most British solution ever. “i made you feel terrible, but here, have some earl grey, and now we’re mates.” glad it worked out though!

memequeen420 (again): STILL no answer on the biscuits. j, you’re avoiding the REAL questions here. were they branded or store-brand? did he eat one? this is important.

weirdcookieperson: did he sniff you when you walked in? like, does he have a heightened sense of smell? rich people are weird, man.

alphamale_uk: mate, you handled this all wrong. never apologise, never offer tea, and NEVER back down to another alpha. you should’ve walked in, sat in his chair, and asserted dominance. that’s how you gain respect. next time, bring steak, not biscuits. real men bond over meat, not tea.

j (op): l’s vegan, mate. bringing a steak would’ve been like waving a red flag at a bull. also, this isn’t Planet of the Apes, it’s just tea. chill.

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j (op): wow, i forgot how weird reddit is. for the record: branded hobnobs. because i’m not a monster. no sniffing, no fingertip scanning and i’ll get someone to update you if i go missing. cheers for the laughs.

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— all works taglist: @luvsforme @yelenasloverrrrr @donttouchthegnote @chelle1306 @bloodyymaryy @aliciaablueprint @km-23mr @stinkyjax @f1kenzzz @ctrlyomomma @theblueblub @23victoria @namgification @tallrock35 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @lifeless-firefly @xylinasdiary @evie-119 @itseightbeats @landososcar @yongi-lee @velentine @m1892 @blushmimi @evans-dejong @nixisracing @lethalvenus @sainzluvrr @santanasaintmendes @idontknowlmaoo @sainzluvrr @tetetoni @ssprayberrythings @heavy-vettel @tashisgf @daniskywalkersolo @c-losur3 @lestappenslover @linoscrly (see yourself tagged when you don’t wanna be? or you want to be and don’t see yourself? send me an ask!)

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[escapisttt]

a lot of this was supposed to be posted for redacted kinktober but. college got in the way. i’m ovulating let me have this. it’s very long OOPS WHO LET ME OUT OF MY CAGE.

NSFW LMAO

lasko has a puppy kink. he likes being told he’s a good boy and craves to be of service to dear. would do anything to please them and do it well; it’s what turns him on the most. leash and collar. god, he’d lick the fucking dirt from their shoes if it made them smile down at him. yeah perhaps him and ash could bond over this. the difference between them though is that during those moments, lasko will never goof off or make jokes meanwhile ash is a bit of a brat. lasko would never disobey dear, but ash likes to push baabe’s buttons so that they “force” him into submission.

milo uses “good girl/good boy/good pet” hnnnngghh. as well as “pretty girl/pretty boy/pretty thing” oh my god. he’s so good at praise.

milo is usually pretty physically rough with it, going fast and deep, but you wouldn’t know that if you were just listening to his voice. sometimes while he’s absolutely fucking sweetheart’s brains out, he’s right in their ear speaking so softly and encouragingly with soooo much praise. “that’s right baby, ‘m i doin’ it right?” when he KNOWS he’s doing it right, he just wants to hear their confirmation. “yeah, lemme touch you, you like that? tell me you like that.” he looooves making sweetheart tell him how they’re feeling, and when they inevitably confirm that it feels good, he nods and doubles down. he craves good feedback, it’s his praise kink. “awwww i know it feels good baby, ‘m gonna make it feel even better.” it’s not condescending, it’s confidence. he knows what he’s good at, and he wants to get better. he’s a huge pleaser.

this is self indulgent if you aren’t into daddy kinks don’t read this one lmao. but daddy milo is soooo real to me. “was that too much? aw ‘m sorry baby, daddy’ll make it feel better. shh shh it’s okay, daddy’s sorry…” OUUUGGHHHH. “daddy wants what you want baby, tell‘im what you want. c’mon, be good and use your words, daddy wants to hear you,” i can’t do this anymore RELEASEEE MEEEEEEE. milo does it tastefully okay he’s not one of the weird ones TRUST ME.

milo who subs occasionally. to put a number on it, about 10% of the time. it may not be his natural default, but when the time is right, it’s so right. it happens one of two ways: either milo had a really rough, tiring day and needs to be coaxed into being cared for, or his sweetheart had been relentlessly teasing him. he’s such a brat at first, rejecting every dominant advance from sweetheart with a performative cocky demeanor, but it breaks down quickly enough when they touch him in the right places.

porter is such a masochist, but not in a traditionally submissive way. god, he loves when treasure slaps his face, yanks his hair, and scratches his back deeply on purpose. he likes being choked a little sometimes as well. but when all of these things are enacted on him, he smiles. he’s got a cocky grin and he’s nodding emphatically, his hips pistoning, almost twitching, even if he’s not inside of treasure. he’s groaning and his eyes are rolling back, but he’s not submitting. he’s daring them to do more, knowing that the only one whose limits being tested are theirs: how much are they able to take of porter when he’s losing himself to the pain? the more intense the pain, the harder he fucks treasure. basically porter is saying without saying, “the more you hurt me, the more i’ll pleasure you.” treasure essentially controls their own pleasure through him; if they want him to go faster, they dig their nails into his back or his scalp or his hips. and as soon as they let go, he lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and eases back down to a slower pace. and porter knows what they’re doing. he likes it. he likes that they have that level of control over him, but he’s absolutely not a whimpering mess like lasko.

david does not like using toys or bondage material. that’s his job. he’s very animalistic in the sense that he does not want anything, even objects, interfering with his time with his mate. he’s the type to get jealous of a vibrator or any sex toy. not because he’s worried about it doing a better job than him, but because it was the thing pleasuring his mate and not him. if his angel is in the mood, he wants to know so he can take care of it. an unspoken rule in the shaw house is that neither of them are allowed to touch themselves. david sticks to this rule through and through, but if angel is caught in the action, the punishment is pretty intense, meaning overstimulation. david is usually quite rough and is already a lot to take even when he’s going slow, so him when he’s angry can be… a lot. he’s got angel on their tummy in the prone bone position and is absolutely laying into them, growling in their ear with genuine irritation. “you should’ve told me… why didn’t you tell me? is this not cutting it for you? you had enough of this cock? i thought you liked it. thought you liked being full of me, not a piece of fucking plastic.” yeah he’s angy. and he’s not being mean to them, he just wants to prove to them and remind them how good he makes them feel. they shouldn’t want anything else. and when angel does it because they think david is too busy for them? yeah he would stay up during all hours of the night to prove them wrong. “how do you think like that, hm? you think i’d put work above this? god angel, i do everything to come home to you, give my time to you. you don’t get that? let me keep showin’ you….”

azmidi who literally nuts on a lot of phone call role plays with sweetie (it’s canon yall hear the way his breath shakes all the time). just hearing their pretty voice, god he feels his pants getting tighter (if he wears those lol). he demands they tell him about their day even though they know he knows exactly how their day went. it feeds into that delicious fear of stalking, the idea that their every movement is being tracked and scrutinized and constantly mulled over. he wants to listen to them talk while he palms himself, nodding along with their version of events, happy that they’re being obedient and not lying to him. he doesn’t have to take himself out of his pants, though he likes to most times. he can come without that, just dry humping into his hand and pressing the phone to his ear, letting out the occasional moan. he knows sweetie can hear him, and if they show signs of getting flustered, it only makes him harder. “you know what you’re doing to me, right? you—you know… oh god…. hey, don’t stop. don’t stop talking. you’ve been doing such a good job, sweetie. let me hear you.”

william “eye contact” solaire. hngggnhnnhg. let’s imagine he’s got a long term partner, right? he is suuuuuuch a gentle lover. he’s not about rough sex very much, he’s too sophisticated lol. no, the actual reason he isn’t too keen on rough sex is because to him, his lover is a deity; an angel that walks the earth, the image of divine perfection. he isn’t going to treat them like a ragdoll, he worships the air they breathe for gods sake. he doesn’t see himself nearly worthy enough to be their companion, their equal. he gives them everything and then apologizes because it just isn’t enough. when he gave them their crown? “i hope you like it. the jewels are the finest i could find of course, for you. i—i perhaps could have gotten larger ones… i apologize. oh, but the weight may be a bit much for your neck… oh dear.” yeah this man is rich but he fucking won’t be if his partner doesn’t stop him from spoiling them. but i’m ranting, this is supposed to be about sex lmfao please ask me to make a post ab william i will do it so fast. this aspect of himself shows especially when he and his partner are intimate. he’s on his knees a lot of the time, staring up at his lover with worshipful reverence. he pleads in his soft spoken voice, his eyes fluttering shut as they put their hand on his cheek. “my love, what would you have me do for you? ask me anything.” and he means anything.

[ellecdc]

helllooo ! (first ask ever, actually, go me lol) I am requesting with your Winter Games :

🐻 here to hibernate - “oh god, did i fall asleep on you?!” from the sleepy list :)

with Regulus x reader? or Regulus x James if you’re looking for an actual ship like that :3

ily and I hope you’re doing well !! mwah

first ask ever, go you INDEED! thanks for the prompt, and for being here with me! <3

Regulus Black x Potter!reader who he falls asleep on [627 words]

CW: fem!reader, pranking, siblings, brief mention of Black family causing anxiety, fluff

Regulus had, admittedly, not been sleeping all that well leading up to the winter holidays. 

For better or for worse, Sirius had convinced him to rip the plaster off and join him at the Potter’s, if not permanently, then at least for the Christmas break. 

First, he hadn’t been sleeping well due to the stress of having to potentially return home for the holidays, then he hadn’t been sleeping well due to the stress of having to find some excuse that his parents would find believable to remain at school over the holidays, then he hadn’t been sleeping well due to the stress of how his parents might react to the news of him attending the Potter’s for the holidays, then he hadn’t been sleeping well due to the stress of having not gotten a response from them at all (the devil you know, and all that).

And finally, he hadn’t been sleeping well due to the stress of now having to celebrate the holidays with the Potter’s. Pointedly, perhaps, with you. 

So when he startled awake to the sound of the train compartment door closing - catching the tail end of his brother and his friends disappearing down the train’s corridors - to find himself having fallen asleep on your shoulder of all places, he was more than a little bit mortified. 

“Oh Merlin, did I fall asleep on you!?” He asked as he slid to the very opposite side of the bench to put some clearly well needed space between the two of you. 

“Just a little, it’s alright.” You offered with a shrug as you refused to look up from the book in your hand, though Regulus noted you take the opportunity to reposition to a more comfortable spot now that you wouldn’t risk waking him up. 

“M’so sorry.” He mumbled into his hands as he tried to wipe the residual lethargy from his face; an anxious, crackling energy bubbling from his chest to his fingertips. “I’ve not been sleeping well; this is so embarrassing.”

“It’s not embarrassing,” you chuckled kindly, “you’re obviously tired, we’ve got a long train ride, might as well sleep, yeah?” 

You smiled gently, perhaps even shyly at him, before turning your face back to your book, though you didn’t appear to actually be reading it. 

“Where’d our brother’s go?” He asked after a few beats of silence; you looked up then, as if only now realising the compartment was empty.

“Oh, erm. I think they wanted to pull one last prank of the year; wanted to go out with a-”

But the end of your sentence was cut off by a loud bang that shook the seats beneath you two, followed by some groaning, shrieking, and cackling. 

You and Regulus shared a soft, breathy snicker of your own. 

“You didn’t feel like joining them?” He queried, quite certain he wasn’t mistaken when he noticed you flush.

“Erm, no; I was quite alright here.”

Your brother’s came crashing into the compartment then with Remus and Peter on their heels; breathless, laughing, and covered in a small dusting of red and green glitter. 

“That was a good one, Trouble.” Sirius proclaimed as he took a sloppy seat across from you. “Can’t believe you opted to sit here like Reggie’s personal glorified pillow instead of seeing it through.”

“Don’t tease her.” Remus chided quietly; likely quiet enough that you hadn’t heard, but Regulus had. 

“So,” Regulus drawled then, sharing a conspiratorial look with you. “I have this to look forward to all break?” 

Sirius scoffed in offence. “You should be so lucky, baby brother.” 

“Don’t worry,” you murmured quietly, “leaves us plenty of time to make them pay.” 

Regulus couldn’t help but wonder if - just maybe - holiday’s at the Potter’s wouldn’t be so bad.

[niteskysx]

Stepbro! Nicholas Chavez x reader (one shot fic kinda?, established relationship)

As per your usual evening routine, you’re sitting on the couch with a textbook open on your lap, trying to lose yourself in your studies. Eventually, you hear footsteps—heavy, purposeful—and before you even look up, you know it’s Nick.

He stands in front of you, arms crossed, his jaw set in a tense line. There’s a hardness in his eyes, something you haven’t seen before. You hesitate to ask, but you do it anyway. Can’t hurt, can it?

“Rough day?” you ask softly, trying to ease the tension with a small, nervous smile.

Nick doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he drops down beside you on the couch, much closer than he usually does. “You could say that,” he mutters, his tone sharper than usual. He runs a hand through his hair and leans back, his gaze drifting over you slowly, intently. “Think you could help make it better?”

And there it was.

Your throat tightens, but you manage a small nod. “How… how can I help?”

He raises an eyebrow, almost amused by your innocence. “Just… be here with me.”

His hand moves to rest on your knee, his thumb slowly tracing circles against the fabric of your jeans, sending a shivers down your back.

You feel that familiar touch on you, whenever he “needs” you. “I-I’m here,” you whisper, glancing down, unable to meet his eyes.

“Good,” Nick murmurs, his hand moving up just a bit, his fingers grazing your thigh. “Because I need a distraction. He leans in, his voice softening as he leans in closer to you. “Think you can keep me company tonight?”

You take a shaky breath, mustering up the courage to speak. “Nick… maybe tonight isn’t the best time. I really need to focus on my studies,” you say, forcing a gentle smile, hoping he’ll take the hint and let you go.

Nick leans closer, his voice soft but insistent. “C’mon. Just a few minutes. You don’t have to study all night, do you?” He slides his hand just a little higher as he gives you a faint, almost pleading smile.

You swallow, feeling trapped under his stare. “I… I really can’t, Nick.” you stammer, trying to pull your thoughts together, to say something that might sway him.

Nick’s narrow at your hesitation, and his expression shifts into one of frustration. He lets out a sharp breath, his hand leaving your thigh abruptly. “Fine. Whatever,” he mutters, his voice edged with annoyance. He pushes himself up from the couch, giving you one last hard look before turning on his heel.

Ten minutes flew by.

You had been sitting there in silence for ten whole minutes and you know you should be getting back to your studying but you couldn’t…. He just seemed so mad and you didn’t want him to mad at you. Why did it bother you so much?

You couldn’t figure out why you felt this way, especially considering the amount of stress this man gives you— Sneaking around the house, him finding new ways to “torture” you or pleasure you— depending on what his mood is, making sure no one sees you two together, especially your mom and stepdad.

Before you know it, you found yourself standing outside his door, hesitant. Part of you wants to turn back, but another part of you is telling you to knock on that door.

God, has he completely corrupted you?

Your trembling hands manage to knock lightly on the door, and after a moment, you hear his voice from the other side. “Yeah?”

Slowly, you push the door open, peeking in to see him lying on his bed, playing with a baseball ball by himself, with his gaze fixed on the ceiling. He doesn’t look at you, but you can tell by the way his jaw tightens that he knows it’s you.

“Hey… I just wanted to check on you,” you say softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind you.

He finally turns his head to look at you, his expression unreadable. “Why? Thought you were too busy,” he says, his tone a mix of bitterness and something else—something that makes your heart race.

You take a hesitant step forward. “I… I’m sorry if I upset you. I just really needed to study, that’s all.”

Nick sits up slowly, his gaze locking onto yours. “Yeah? And what about now? Suddenly have time for me?”

He sounds mad, but still manages a slight smirk on his face.

You take a seat next to him on the bed.

“I just… didn’t want you to be upset,” you mumble, looking down at your hands.

He scoots in closer to you, closing the space between you and him. “So, you’re here to make it up to me, then?” he asks, his voice dropping to a low murmur.

You swallow hard, trying to steady yourself. “What? I-I didn’t mean—”

But he doesn’t let you finish. He leans in even closer than before, with his hand resting on your knee and his face mere inches from yours. You can feel the warmth of his breath hitting your face. “I think you did,” he murmurs, his hand moving to rest on your hips, pulling you just a little closer. “So… make it up to me, then.”

(I WANNA CONTINUE THIS BUT I HAVE NO IDEAS!! 😭 SO IF YOU LIKE THIS SHITTY PIECE AND HAVE IDEAS FOR TO CONTINUE IT LOL PLS LMK OKAYY ILYY 🤍)

[hanniebaeee]

Clueless

Jisung x fem!reader

Warnings: nothing!

Genre: colleagues to lovers, flufffff

Summary: You and Jisung are colleagues, and he's in love with you. But he's so nervous and clueless about how to win you over. And in come his brothers, to help out.

It all began with Jisung staring at you for what feels like the 397th time that week. The way your soft smile lights up his world whenever you greet him, the way you tap your pen against your lip during team meetings, and the way you always manage to help him without a second thought - Jisung is completely, utterly gone.

And yet, he is clueless. Clueless as to how to make you notice him as more than the guy who fumbled through presentations and ogles at you like you're his favorite cheesecake.

So naturally, he turns to the only people he can think of for help. His brothers.

Jisung: I NEED HER.

I.N: Umm who?

Minho: Oh my god. It’s that girl again.

Hyunjin: A girl, I see. Is she cute?

Felix: Guys, let him speak.

Chan: Okay, Jisung. What’s the problem?

Seungmin: Jisung has a crush.

Jisung: I DON'T HAVE A CRUSH.

Seungmin: Sure you don't. You're totally not unhinged rn.

Jisung: I'M NOT UNHINGED.

Seungmin: What's with the yelling then?

Jisung: I have… feelings. Serious ones.

Minho: So you’re down bad.

Hyunjin: Tragic. Who’s the victim?

Jisung: Y/N Y/L/N

Complete silence.

I.N: She’s out of your league, bro.

Jisung: THAT’S NOT HELPFUL.

Hyunjin: No, but seriously. She’s so sweet. Like so so sweet. Sweet sweet.

Chan: HYUNJIN.

Hyunjin: Sorry.

Felix: That’s why we’re here! To help him not ruin it. Right, guys?

Minho: um, sure.

Jisung stares at the chat, already regretting his decision. These are a bunch of maniacs for heaven's sake! He waits, holding his breath, while Minho breaks the silence.

Felix: Ok, let's brainstorm.

Minho: Easy. Corner her in the supply closet and say, “I need you. Now.”

Jisung: Excuse me, WHAT.

Hyunjin: No, wait. That’s brilliant. Push her against the wall for added effect. Women love tension.

Changbin: Are you sure about that?

Felix: Guys. Wtf.

Chan: Jisung, please don’t do that.

Jisung: I wasn’t GOING TO.

I.N: You sure?

Chan: Just start small. Be genuine. Compliment her work.

Felix: Yeah, that's a good plan.

Jisung groans, burying his face in his hands. Of course this is a bad idea. How's he going to compliment you when just the sight of you has him falling apart like a house of cards.

The next morning, Jisung walks into the office with a mission. Chan's advice sounds promising, so that's what he's going to follow.

At least that's what he thought he'd do. But the moment you walk into the room in that cute cardigan, his brain turns into mashed potatoes.

“Good morning, Jisung!” You say, smiling at him as usual.

“Good morning.” Jisung clears his throat, his hands turning ice cold.

“Everything ok?” You ask as you see him glitching.

“Yeah, of course, perfect… you know, just thinking about.. um.. work.. it's good, you do good work…Work.” Jisung stares at you wide eyed, feeling faint.

Your brows furrow a little, but you still smile as you say, “Thank you?”

Jisung barely makes it through the rest of the day without combusting. He just wants the earth to split open and swallow him whole because there's absolutely no point in trying to be alive after that.

Jisung: GUYS. I MESSED UP.

Minho: Shocking.

Jisung: I tried to compliment her, but I think I said “work” five times in a row.

Hyunjin: Should've cornered her in the supply closet.

Chan: Relax, Jisung. Everyone gets nervous.

Changbin: Nah, screw the soft play. You gotta go BIG.

Jisung: What does “BIG” mean?

Changbin: Like a grand gesture. Buy her flowers or something.

Hyunjin: Or serenade her in the breakroom.

Felix: No. Don't do that.

Seungmin: What about showing off your strengths? You’re funny. Make her laugh.

Minho: Yeah, tell her a joke about how bad you are at flirting. Maybe it’ll cancel itself out.

Jisung decides to take Seungmin’s advice. Because, even if he's a nervous mess, he is a funny guy. So the next day, during lunch, he manages to sit next to you.

“Mind if I join you? ” he asks, pretending his heart wasn’t about to leap out of his throat.

Your smile and say, “Of course not.”

But then, he doesn't give it a minute before he executes his plan.

“I’m not great at this whole… flirting thing,” Jisung blurts out as soon as he sits. “But I think I’d like to learn. You. I mean, not learn you. I mean, yes, but not in the creepy way. Unless you’re - WAIT.”

He stops talking and breathing as he looks down at his food, trying to pull himself together.

You blink, biting your lip to stifle a laugh.

“You’re doing fine, Jisung.” you say with a giggle and the warmth in your voice makes his cheeks burn.

“Yeah?” he asks, looking up at you.

“Yeah,” you say, tilting your head. “Maybe we can grab coffee sometime, and you can practice on me.”

Jisung didn’t respond because he's too busy screaming internally.

Jisung: SHE SAID YES. OH MY GOD. SHE SAID YES.

I.N: TO WHAT?!

Jisung: COFFEE.

I.N: AHHH!

Hyunjin: Oh wow. Okay, don’t screw this up.

Minho: Bring her flowers.

Changbin: And chocolate.

Felix: Just show up and be yourself.

Minho: Ew. Get out of here with that wholesome nonsense.

Chan: You'll do just fine.

Jisung puts his phone down, already plotting how to make the coffee date perfect. For once, he feels confident.

But then, as the date nears he's a mess again.

“Do I go casual? Or formal? What's even a business-casual?!” he mutters to himself before grabbing his phone and typing furiously into the group chat.

Jisung: What do I wear to a coffee date??

Felix: Something comfy. Think effortlessly cute.

Chan: yep, don’t overdress.

Minho: Wear black. It’s sexy.

Changbin: Yeah, nothing too tight. You’ll sweat like a pig.

Seungmin: Avoid your Pikachu hoodie. Please.

Jisung: I wasn’t going to wear that (but thanks for the heads up)

Hyunjin: 🤣🤣

I.N: 🤣🤣

His confidence wavers a little as he stands in front of the mirror dressed in a nice fitted charcoal grey sweatshirt, and a pair of black jeans. Whatever, this has to do. But now, the flowers.

Jisung: What flowers do I get?

Hyunjin: Roses. Red ones. Lots of them. Nothing says, “I want to rip your clothes off” like red roses.

Minho: Oh yeah roses.

Changbin: Nah, go for orchids. They’re rare and exotic. It shows taste.

I.N: Sunflowers. They’re happy. Go for the whole cheerful and sweet vibe.

Felix: Yeah, sunflowers! They’re cute, like her.

Chan: Go with whatever feels right, you got this👍

Seungmin: Yeah. Go for your favorite?

Jisung’s head spins as he tries to process this. And as he finally stands in a flower shop, staring at the riot of colors, his eyes move to one particular bunch. He leaves the store clutching the bouquet like it is his lifeline.

The moment he sees you in front of the café, Jisung forgets how to breathe. You look so pretty in your simple yellow dress. It's a beautiful mustard yellow - plain, flowing. And you have left your hair down, just how he likes it.

“Hey,” you greet him softly, as he approaches you.

“Hi,” he manages, handing you the bouquet of sunflowers with shaky hands. “These are for you.”

Your face lights up as you take the flowers, holding them close.

“Oh my gosh, sunflowers are my favorites! How did you know?” you say, grinning happily at him.

And you look like sunshine personified in your yellow dress and sunflowers. Jisung’s cheeks turn crimson as he tries not to drool at you.

“Lucky guess?” he says, and his heart almost springs out of his chest when you take his hand and lead him into the cafe.

The date starts off with a nervous energy, but to Jisung’s surprise, your warmth is contagious. You laugh at his jokes (even the dumb ones) and you are just so…interested in him, that he finds himself relaxing in your company. Jisung knows he's completely in love with you. He can't control the happiness that's taking over him. This is just perfect.

And you? You are smitten.

“Okay, serious question,” you say as you stir your cup of mocha. “What made you choose suflowers? I mean, I love them, but I’m curious.”

Jisung freezes for a second, but he tells you the truth. Well half truth.

“They… remind me of you,” he says. “Bright and beautiful.”

Your heart melts and you blush as you say, “You’re adorable, you know that?”

“I - uh - thanks?”

Jisung walks you home, hours later, and it's like he doesn't even know why he was so nervous before. When you stop at your door and turn to him, there's a shy smile on your face.

“Thank you for today, Jisung,” you say. “I had a great time.”

Jisung feels like his heart might just burst.

“Me too.” he says. “Um…so, I'll be…um-”

You giggle, leaning up to kiss his cheek. Your lips linger for a second too long before you whisper, “Goodnight, Jisung.”

As you disappear inside, Jisung takes time to unfreeze, his hand pressed to his cheek where your lips had been.

Jisung: SHE KISSED ME.

Hyunjin: SHE WHAT?! LIPS OR CHEEK?

Jisung: CHEEK.

I.N: Oh my GOD ��

Changbin: Good work 👍

Felix: That’s huge 😍

Minho: I give it three dates.

Seungmin: Two, if he doesn’t do anything stupid.

Chan: That's amazing, Jisung!

Jisung: Oh my God, today was great.

Jisung: I could die happy.

Jisung: I'm gonna go plan our next date.

Hyunjin: He's definitely planning their wedding.

Felix: Hehe, goodnight, Ji.

Jisung puts his phone down, smiling to himself. For the first time, he feels great about this. You're even more perfect than he thought. You made him feel great about himself. And he couldn't wait to do this again.

a/n: Trying new things! I love reading all the fake text scenarios here and they're so good, so I wanted to try too!

[foodtruckery]

I've been having crazy Stancest brain rot thinking about an AU where they don't have the portal incident and instead have crazy marathon hate sex instead (Inspired by some amazing art by @CoreArde on Twitter) and I thought it'd be fun to share that with you.

They start off arguing in the lab and then oops they're fucking on the lab floor, and they really should be thinking this through but nope now they're upstairs fucking on the kitchen table and okay maybe now they'll finally talk about it nah, they're fucking in Ford's bed now.

It starts off as rough hate sex getting out years of frustration, but by the time they make it to the kitchen its become insanely desperate and cloying because they missed each other, and their bodies fit so well together, and GOD how could they have not been doing this all time? They're going at it so long that they basically end up passed out in Ford's bed by the end, and Stan's not going to be sitting down for a while after this. He's probably just happy to be sleeping in a bed, but Ford is trying to figure out how he got so far from the initial plan.

Even better if the two of them have been harboring feelings for years and never acted on it, because they get the one-two punch of all the weight of their time apart and processing the fact that OH GOD I JUST FUCKED MY BROTHER (which of course they both wanted to do but still).

I have no idea what would happen after that, but both of them waking up sore, sweat soaked, sticky with cum (some still inside Stan because of course Ford didn't use a condom this wasn't supposed to happen) after having gone at each other like rabbits in heat despite never having expressed their attraction to each other before is a hilarious and hot idea to me. What do you think?

HI THERE ANON. i am so fucking sorry that i left you waiting for so long about this, but i need you to know it's because i was FUCKING OBSESSED with this. like just absolutely beside myself over it, and i refused to respond until i had a chance to sit down and respond PROPERLY.

cause uh YEAH FRIEND i know the exact fucking piece of art (explicit) you're talking about, because it's INCREDIBLE. and in case you didn't know, the artist is over here too and shares some fucking fantastic writing and headcanons also! (seriously, go check out @/cartoonsinthemorning if you haven't. and cart, i hope you don't mind that anon and i both kinda lost our minds about your art over here! i genuinely have no idea what tag etiquette is on this site and didn't wanna bombard you, but you did this. again.)

i'll be honest, anon, this kinda got away from me (fucking shocker) and i am too tired to do any legit editing of it right now, so please forgive any typos or weirdness! i'll try and clean it up before it eventually goes up on ao3. but thank you for such a LOVELY ask because this was so hot, and so inspiring, and i hope i did a little justice to your idea and cart's gorgeous art!

--- Ford isn't entirely sure how it had started. His memory, his perception of time, his ability to follow a linear order of events -- all if it is less than reliable at the moment, so he can't entirely blame himself for losing track of things here and there. But the jump between trying to wrestle his journal out of Stan's hands to trying to wrestle Stan out of his dingey jeans is a jarring transition to lose in the dull static that's been edging around his awareness for weeks now. 

Not jarring enough to stop him, though. 

He thinks, vaguely, while he's blindly tugging at Stan's denim, that there's a concerningly high likelihood that he's hallucinating. His head is swimming in so much caffeine and adrenaline that he doesn't even feel the rough concrete of the lab floor under his knees -- maybe that isn't where he is? Maybe he'd nodded off without realizing. Maybe he's going to come to with another lapful of polaroids and a new humiliating tattoo. 

Maybe, maybe, maybe -- he can reckon with a probability model later. For the first time in what feels like months, the stability of his perceived reality is not actually at the forefront of Ford's mind.

Pressing in on him harder than the doubt, harder than the disassociation from his physical body, and harder than the threat of the creature lingering in the depths of his subconscious is anger. It feels like a beacon in the muddled, fuzzy mess inside his head, something bright and real and his. It's searing through him, slicing away all the frayed edges of his paranoia and doubt like a hot blade through so much butter. 

Ford clings to the sharp edges of that anger and feels more alert than he has in weeks. 

He can't remember how their bickering had taken this particular turn, but if he's liable to lose his eyes and his life in the next few days, Ford will be fucking damned if he squanders the opportunity. He knows he's made a mess of things, that he's made the sorts of mistakes that can't and frankly shouldn't be forgiven. 

But he also knows with blinding, white hot certainty that he's only here, now, because of Stan's mistakes.

Ford may not deserve absolution, but he does deserves this. 

Laughter cuts through the lab, rough and mocking, and Ford's attention finally falls, properly, on Stan. He has a bruise blooming on his cheek and a snide smirk twisting his lips. He's also on his back, his jeans and a threadbare pair of boxers bunched in Ford's fists and pulled so low he can see the tight curls of his pubic hair and the root of his cock. 

"What's wrong, Poindexter?" Stan asks, mocking, and it's only then that Ford realizes he's paused halfway through stripping his twin's lower half. The bite of the cold concrete under his knees still feels far away, but the rough material in his palms, and the heat of Stan's body so close to him are sharp, clear details. "No hands on experience with a dick that ain't your own? Afraid you might actually be bad at somethin' for once?" 

Ford narrows his eyes, feeling the hot point of anger cutting through him, steadying him, and he jerks Stan's clothes hard enough that he gets the material past his knees in one tug. Stan laughs at him again, but it stutters into a little 'oof!' when Ford flips him onto his stomach. 

He doesn't care that Stan's pants are still caught around his calves and his boots. He doesn't care that Stan hisses something that sounds like pain when he's yanked onto his knees and dragged backwards several inches across the concrete. He doesn't even care that, once upon a time, he'd dreamed of this, of crossing this line with the only person he'd ever really loved in any way that mattered, and it's nothing like the softer, sweeter picture he used to imagine. 

Stan's hips are soft, and the skin gives easily under the iron grip Ford has on them, holding him in place as he grinds against his ass. Even through his slacks, the heat of Stan's body is intense, addictive, and he grinds forward again, harder, watching the friction rub a pink  patch against his skin. 

Stan, shameless and selfish as always, pushes eagerly back against him. Ford has barely done anything beyond rocking the outline of his cock against his hole, but he can hear Stan panting against the ground, can see his hands curling into fists. He remembers how many times Stan had called Carla McCorkle "easy" in high school and thinks, now, that the easy one had been his brother. 

"You gonna keep humpin' me, or are you gonna fuck me?" Stan demands, rocking as firmly back as he can with the bruising grip Ford has on him. 

"What makes you think you deserve that?" Ford bites out. It would serve Stan right, he thinks, if he got himself off exactly like this, no different than grinding against a particularly firm couch pillow. Just a conveniently warm object for Ford to release some tension with. 

Stan looks back over his shoulder and flashes teeth at him. It isn't a smile. "Oh, I get it. Cold feet? Well, we can just chalk it up to one more thing ya promised and then backed out of as soon as you actually had to make a choice. Good to know some things never change, Stanford."

He's being goaded, and Ford knows that. But the anger boils in his chest, and he thinks, why should he care about what Stan does or doesn't deserve from him? This is about what Ford deserves.

And what Ford deserves is to have his dick so far up Stan's ass he'll be able to feel it in the back of his throat. 

"Do you ever shut up?" he snaps while he releases one of Stan's hips to yank his slacks open. The bruise of his fingerprints already forming against Stan's skin thrills him, almost to distraction, if it weren't for Stan laughing again. 

"'Course not," he says, shifting his center of balance to dig into the pocket of his dirty red coat. The little packet he tosses over his shoulder bounces off his own ass to land by Ford's knee, the word LUBE printed in large, bold letters across the front. He should be surprised to see it, and part of him is. The word "easy" comes to mind again. 

Ford rips the packet open with his teeth. 

"F-Fuck!" Stan curses, turning his forehead against the ground when Ford presses his slick cock into him a moment later without warning. 

Ford grabs him roughly by the waist when he twitches forward and yanks Stan back until his ass hits the open fly of his slacks. He makes a choked sound at that and turns his face into the crook of his own arm when Ford pulls back and rocks hard back into him. 

"What's wrong, Stanley?" he parrots. He pistons his hips at a punishing pace, watching his cock pumping in and out of the greedy, grasping ring of Stan's hole. "Nothing to say?" 

Stan makes a noise that's too muffled by the sleeve of his coat to understand, so Ford reaches down to take a fistful of his stupid mullet instead. The hitching gasp that escapes his twin when his head is forcefully jerked up makes him groan. "What was that? Come on, Stanley, use your words." 

"F-Fuck off," Stan says, his voice strained, almost whining. 

"I see you haven't gotten anymore eloquent since you left," Ford scoffs around the breathlessness in his own voice, feeling the anger and pleasure coiling harder in his gut. "What was it you said? Good to know some things never change." 

When he pulls Stan's hair again, just because he can, Stan moans. And when he shifts his hips, driving in just as hard at the new angle, Stan shouts. With his own knees bracketed on either side of his, Ford can feel the way his thighs tremble when he clenches around his cock, and he can feel the sweat beading up under his palm where he's digging darker bruises into Stan's side. 

Ford feels like he's on the edge of delirium again, consumed by every sound Stan makes, every twitch of his hips, every ounce of his heat. He thinks, a bit wildly, that Stan may have been made for this, made to take his cock, for how well he does. 

It isn't until Stan jerks under him, going hot and tight around his cock and making a strangled noise in the back of his throat, that Ford realizes he may have said part of that out loud. That Stan came over it. 

He groans low in his throat and thrusts half a dozen more times into Stan's clenching hole before he comes as well. 

It's quiet for a few minutes other than their ragged panting, but it's Stan who eventually reaches back and swats at Ford's hand until he lets go of his hair. He takes the hint and pulls out, watching with no small amount of satisfaction as his come trickles down Stan's thighs. It strikes him suddenly that he wants to follow the wet trail back up with his tongue. It's enough to make his cock give a feeble, appreciative twitch. 

He isn't sure if he's just terribly distracted or if he loses time again, because when Ford next lifts his head, Stan is on his feet, pants pulled up around his waist but still open, and he has his journal in hand. This might be more jarring than the last transition he'd lost. 

"What are you doing?" he demands, shoving himself back onto his own feet. He doesn't bother to tuck his cock back in, and he spots the moment Stan's eyes flick down. It's brief, but he'd seen it. 

"What does it fucking look like I'm doing? I'm taking your stupid diary and disappearing like you begged me to," Stan says. His voice is still a little raw, and Ford has a moment to realize how much he likes that, before the words catch up. 

He scoffs. "Oh! So now you want to actually help?! Is it always this easy to fuck the sense into you?" 

Stan's expression does a few things Ford doesn't understand before his brows ultimately slam down and he turns his back, storming towards the door with Ford's journal still in hand, and Ford himself hot on his heels. "You're fucking unbelievable, Stanford, you know that?!" 

"Me?! You're the one who came all over my lab floor and then decided he was ready to be reasonable!" 

Stan jams his thumb against the call button for the elevator several times in quick succession, despite the car already being on their floor and the gate sliding open. "Most people would just say thank you when someone agreed to help them out, but not you! What does Stanford Pines have to be grateful for? We're all just fucking lucky to get a task from ya, huh?" 

Ford crowds into the elevator with him before Stan can try to pull the gate or call the doors shut behind him. He punches the button to take them up himself, before making a grab for the journal, snarling when Stan leans back and holds it up above his head. 

"You're the one who threatened to destroy my work twenty minutes ago, Stanley! Why would I trust you with it now? Hell, I can't figure out why I trusted you enough to bring you here in the first place!" 

"Oh really? You can't?" Stan sneers, leaning in close. And when Ford takes a step back, Stan follows, backing him into a corner of the car. "I don't think you fuckin' trusted me to do shit, Stanford. I think you were all outta options cause nobody else could stand to put up with you anymore." 

Stan doesn't so much as hit a nerve as he takes a sledgehammer to it, and as soon as the elevator dings, Ford shoves him as hard as he can out into the study. Stan yelps when he stumbles, nearly tripping over his own feet, and it's only knocking into a cluttered desk that keeps him from falling on his ass. 

Ford doesn't give him any time to right himself, storming in after him and grabbing him by the front of his jacket. Stan flinches, like he'ex expecting a punch, but Ford yanks him in and crushes his mouth against his instead. 

There's a dull thump that Ford only realizes was the journal being dropped when he feels both of Stan's hands on his shoulders. They curl briefly, grasping at him, and Ford feels his mouth starting to go soft and slack. But as soon as he presses in, runs his tongue along that loosening seam, he's suddenly being shoved backwards. 

If he weren't so damn confused, Ford would probably appreciate the picture Stan makes, lips slick and pants open, leaning back against one of Ford's desks. 

"What are you doing?!" Stan demands, like he's the one who doesn't know what day it is, and keeps losing track of events. 

"I would think even you could figure that out after what happened downstairs, Stanley."

Stan flushes, visible even in the low light of the study, though Ford isn't sure if it's embarrassment or anger. The scowl on his face doesn't help clear things up, either, though the fact that he isn't actually looking at Ford is...telling.  

"That ain't happening again," Stan states, and there isn't anything convincing about the way he says it at all. But when Ford steps forward, Stan sidesteps him and the desk. He makes a wrong turn in the dark, in a house he isn't familiar with, and flinches when Ford flips on the light in the kitchen he's walked into.

"I don't know how you expect to leave and hide my journal after leaving it in the study," he points out, frowning at the back of Stan's head. 

He isn't surprised when Stan whirls on him. He is, however, stunned still when he realizes Stan's eyes are wet. 

"What the fuck do you want from me, Stanford?!" Stan shouts, his voice cracking over his name, and it makes something feel like it's cracking inside his chest. 

Ford has to wet his lips when he finds them and his throat dry. "...I told you what I wanted," he says.

"Yeah, you did! And when I finally agreed to do it, you threw a fucking fit about it! And now you're pissy because I'm not?! What do you want?" 

The anger sparks sharply inside him again, and Ford grasps at it like a lifeline, willing to bloody his hands for that bite of stability. 

"You tried to burn it! My life's work! And you only decided you would help me after we--"

Stan cuts him off, looking towards the cabinets while he raises his voice and waves his hands. "Jesus Christ, I'm sorry about the fucking lighter, all right?!"

Ford frowns. He takes a step forward and, still without looking at him, Stan takes a step back. It's the elevator all over again, but this time Ford is pressing in, backing Stan into the cabinets. He grabs the counter on either side of his hips when he tries to side step him again. 

"Stanley, look at me," he demands, frowning harder when Stan sets his jaw and stars determinedly at his shoulder. "Stanley--"

"What do you want, Ford? Just...just fucking tell me and I'll leave, all right?" Stan says, his voice tired and soft as he reaches up to rub a hand over his own face.

He wants a lot, honestly. And hasn't that always been the problem? He's always wanted -- to be normal, to be respected, to be the best, to be special. 

To be wanted. 

To be enough.

To fix things. 

"You," he realizes, watching Stan jerk his head up. His lashes are still wet, and Ford can't stop himself from reaching up and pressing his palm to Stan's cheek, skimming his thumb gently under one of his eyes. 

When he leans in to kiss him again, Stan makes a small, wounded little noise under his mouth, but he parts his lips for Ford's tongue this time. Stan's lips are chapped and he tastes vaguely of stale cigarettes, but Ford is still struck by how soft and sweet he is. 

More than anything else that had happened that evening, this is the moment that Ford knows he should suspect most of all. The way Stan relaxes between him and the counter, the almost tentative way he lifts his tongue to meet his, the careful fingertips touching the edge of Ford's coat and brushing against his loose tie. It's tender in a way Ford didn't think either of them were capable of, and it should be setting off warning bells and red flags in every part of his mind. 

It isn't. 

Ford is more certain of  the reality of this single moment, the gentle slip of Stan's lips against his own, than he's been of anything in a long time. 

And then Stan sighs between them and murmurs, warm and hopeful, "Ford," against his lips, and he's done for. 

It doesn't matter that they just fucked, that Ford's come is probably still drying between Stan's thighs -- he can't keep his hands off of him. Ford is suddenly frantic and desperate in a way that he hadn't been downstairs. He needs to relearn the new, wider shape of Stan's shoulders and pecs. He needs to feel out every new scar and take stock of all the old ones he remembers Stan collecting for him as kids. He needs to be surrounded by him again, soaking in the warmth of him. 

Ford doesn't deserve absolution, but he thinks he may be able to find something close to it in the low, shaky way Stan moans his name. 

And there's familiarity in the way Stan grabs at him in turn, tugging at his jacket and tie and surging into another, harder kiss. Ford thinks he may not be the only one looking for expiation. 

Then Stan drops to his knees between him and the cabinet, and Ford stops thinking so much. His cock is still out, and Stan wastes no time in getting his fist around the shaft and his lips around the head. He suckles and swirls his tongue, and Ford shoves the beanie off of his head to get his hands in his hair. 

"Stanley," he gasps, stroking his fingers along his scalp and fisting the strands between them. 

Stan moans around him and shuffles closer, sliding the seal of his lips further down the length of Ford's cock. All he can do is groan and try to keep from rocking his hips as more of him is greeted by the warmth of his mouth and the wickedness of his tongue. 

He keeps waiting for Stan to reach his limit, to back off and give himself room to breathe. He doesn't. He keeps leaning in, keeps taking him, and then Ford feels his cockhead slip into Stan's throat, sees his lashes are wet again, and he has to put one hand on the counter to keep himself steady. "Fuck, Stanley, you're so good at this."

Stan makes a horribly sweet sound around the girth of Ford's cock and reaches up to hold his hips as he swallows, and Ford is suddenly afraid he's going to embarass himself.  His hips twitch despite his best efforts to keep them still, but Stan simply relaxes his jaw and his throat and tugs a little to encourage him to do it again. He does, of course, how could he not? 

Despite the heat clawing its way through him and the pleasure mounting dangerously high, Ford almost feels outside of himself again. The picture Stan makes, with his eyes damp and heavy lidded, his lips wet and stretched around Ford's cock, his hair fisted in Ford's fingers and his own clinging to Ford's hips -- it's lewd, debauched, and so horribly sweet that it makes Ford's chest hurt. 

Stan gasps raggedly when Ford pulls him off. "I was go-gonna...I mean you can--"

Ford kneels down to kiss him, tasting stale cigarettes and himself, cock throbbing over the rough state of Stan's voice. "Not done yet," he manages, before tugging Stan onto his feet. 

They lose clothes and time on the journey upstairs, tripping over the steps and Ford's discarded pants, and stumbling into his wreck of a room. If Stan notices the state of things, he doesn't comment, mouth latched onto Ford's shoulder and hands all over his back and hips. 

The back of Ford's legs hit the bed and he sits hard on the mattress. Stan doesn't hesitate to crawl up into his lap. He'd lost his boots in the kitchen and his jeans and boxers somewhere on the way to the stairs, giving him ample opportunity to rub his bare cock against Ford's. 

Cursing, Ford rolls his hips and only belatedly remembers to reach up and tug the hideous red coat off of Stan's shoulders. 

"Oh, fuck, hold on. I think I have another one," Stan says, panting softly as he digs into the pockets of his coat. Ford takes the opportunity to run his hands across Stan's thighs and ass, squeezing whatever skin he can until Stan makes a triumphant sound and pulls another little packet of lube free. 

Only then does he let Ford toss his jacket aside and tug him further up the bed with him. He doesn't protest when Ford takes the packet from him, lowering his head to work open mouth kisses up Ford's throat instead, and he rolls his hips distractingly while Ford fights to get the damnable thing open. He ignores the snickering against his skin in the process. 

It stops anyway, hitching into something warm and startled when Ford sinks two slick fingers into him. 

"Oh, fuck," Stan breaths, reaching up to grab Ford by the shoulder, holding himself steady. "Y-You know you don't have to do that, right? Pretty loosened up already."

He is, to be fair. His hole is still soft and loose and fucked open. But Ford enjoys petting his fingers against the tender muscle and stroking them inside anyway. He likes watching Stan bite his lip and push himself back onto his hand. When he slides a third in after the first two, Stan's thighs tremble on either side of his own, and he makes a low, throaty sound. 

When Ford curls his fingers just right, Stan yells and grips his shoulder hard enough to hurt, and it makes warm satisfaction curl in his middle. So he does it a few more times, alternating between spreading his fingers and rubbing the tips against Stan's prostate until he's squirming in his lap. 

"I-I'm gonna come if you don't knock that sh-shit off," he gasps, slumping a bit when Ford chuckles and slides his fingers out. 

"I think I'd like that," Ford says, squeezing his slick fingers against Stan's thigh. 

He snorts and straightens back up, finding the discarded lube packet to squirt the remainder onto Ford's cock. "Yeah, I bet you fucking would," Stan agrees, but there's no malice in his voice, just warm amusement. 

His fist is warm and wonderful when it curls around Ford's cock, spreading lube, and then Ford is being held steady, Stan adjusts himself on his scuffed knees, and there's nothing else to do but hold on as Stan lowers himself into his lap. 

It feels as good as it had earlier to be inside of him, and Ford squeezes the thigh under his hand tightly, fighting against the need to buck his hips. Stan is panting softly, his head tilted back and a pretty, pink color is crawling up from under his t-shirt to flood his neck and face. 

Ford groans and leans forward, finding a nipple through his thin shirt to get his teeth and tongue against.

"F-Ford!" Stan gasps, fumbling the hand not clawing at his shoulder up into his hair, and Ford sucks hard on the firm nub,  rubbing spit-soaked cotton against it with his tongue until Stan rocks in his lap. 

Fuck, he likes that, the way his name sounds in Stan's voice, especially warm and rough after fucking his throat earlier. 

He squeezes Stan's thigh and his hip, giving him a little tug, and that's all the encouragement Stan needs before he's bouncing on his cock. Ford has that thought again -- that Stan was meant to be filled by him, that they're a perfectly matched set. But it isn't just feeling good and hot while Stan fucks himself in his lap. It's feeling like he's been missing something and he finally has it, like he's finally complete again. 

He's missed this, Ford realizes. 

Not the fucking his brother part. He'd fantasized about that for years but it still feels like a dream that it's happening, like something that's too good to be true. 

But being able to put his arms around him? To be this close to him again? 

Ford rocks his hips up, hard, and Stan says his name. He wraps his fingers around Stan's cock, and he gasps his name. He bites the same swollen, pink nipple through his shirt, and Stan shouts his name. 

He snaps his hips up to meet him a few more times and rubs the sensitive glans under the head of Stan's cock, and then there are teeth digging into his other shoulder and his fist and stomach are being striped in Stan's come while he shudders and jerks overtop of him. 

Stan goes easily when Ford rolls them over and pins one of his wrists to the bed. And despite the way he squirms and how his spent cock twitches and leaks, blatantly overstimulated, he hooks his ankles behind Ford's back and urges him on. 

"C-C'mon, give it to me. Fuck, just like that, Sixer!" 

The nickname hits him with all the subtlety of a truck and all the heat of a volcanic eruption. 

He doesn't even remember coming so much as he remembers every synapses in his brain trying to fire at once. Coming back down to reality is a little clearer, with his head spinning and pulse racing as he flops onto his back, but it still takes several long minutes before he feels fully cognizant again. 

Something makes the bed shift, and he looks over to see that Stan has rolled onto his stomach. Ford wonders if he looks half as fucked out as Stan does, with bruises blossoming across his body, his shirt rucked halfway up his stomach, and come staining his ass and thighs. Ford realizes Stan still has his socks on, and he can't figure out why that makes something twinge, hot but exhausted and halfhearted, in his gut. 

"Gonna...gonna get up in a minute," Stan says, his voice slurring and his eyes already closed. Ford watches him rub his cheek against one of Ford's pillows, and the soft sound of snoring follows soon after. 

The reality of the situation starts to settle in shortly after that, and Ford stares wide eyed up at the ceiling as if he'll find some sort of answers there. Unsurprisingly, there are no secrets etched overhead for how to reckon with the fact that he had just fucked his brother, twice, while the fate of the world was still very much hanging in the balance between his fraying sanity and Bill's looming threat. 

".....Fuck," Ford murmurs.

When the adrenaline finishes seeping out of his system, Ford expects to crash. The exhaustion certainly climbs back into his bones, but he's surprised to find himself still clear headed. Focused. 

The sound of Stan sleeping soundly beside him is as soothing as it is mocking, but he doesn't want to separate himself from it even though he knows he needs to get up. There's soft, gray light starting to creep in through the windows, and distant birdsong calling for the start of the day. He needs to readjust, to come up with a new plan, find some way to explain to Stan what's going on so they can buy themselves a little more time. 

Against all odds and his better judgment, there's a tiny, optimistic voice in the back of his head reminding him that there's strength in numbers. He isn't surprised that it sounds like Stan.

[emchante]

Angst idea coming up!!

I imagine there would be a school event let’s say and Daniel would go with his children of course, possibly want to take you with him, but his ex wife would insist that it’s a family event and you’re not family in any way or shape, no matter how much you take care of Daniel’s kids, this just isn’t a place for you and this could make Daniel uneasy because he’d see the logical part in his ex wife’s reasoning yet feel bad because you are his new partner and his kids like you and I imagine this uneasiness and perhaps indecisiveness from Daniel would spark uncertainty in you as well and that just hits right in the heart

~🫠

🫠 nonnie always pulling through.. i know that’s right!! but GOD?? the thought of this?? it pulls my heartstrings. the angst potential LORDDD.

you know the usual, drabble under the cut<3

“she’s not family, daniel,” is spat across the line, daniel wincing at the harshness in his ex-wife’s voice. “she looks after the kids— great. that doesn’t make her family all of a sudden.”

daniel’s fingers drum against the kitchen counter anxiously as she rambles on, adding more reasons why you shouldn’t be at the kids’ charity evening. parents were invited along of course, running stalls with their children. it was a great idea, the kids were so excited to tell you, daniel and their mother.

but they didn’t know themselves that their mother wasn’t onboard with it.

“it’s— it’s not fair to leave her out,” he interrupts, screwing his eyes shut in preparation for another shout down the phone. thankfully, it’s only a deep sigh so he can continue. “the kids love her, they were so excited to tell her,” he explains, a soft smile appearing on his face as he recalled the memory.

“i don’t care, daniel,” she tells him, and she definitely isn’t lying— he had never heard her sound so bored, apart from the times daniel had tried to organise date nights that were more.. him. not a good memory. “remind me what the first line of the handout says?”

daniel frowns out of confusion at the question, but obliges anyways. he grabs the sheet of paper from in front of him, opening it up and reading it out. “dear parents of—”

“there!” she shouts, daniel flinching at the sudden loudness. “parents, daniel. she is not their parent. never has been, never will be.”

daniel exhales deeply from his nose. fuck. he should’ve seen that coming. what happened to letters saying ‘parents or guardians’? he shakes his head, trying to think of a response.

but he doesn’t need to, as she speaks up again. “we aren’t discussing this any more now, daniel. break the news— although it really isn’t much of a newsflash— and then start organising your outfit,”

and then the line fell flat.

daniel places his phone on the counter, before allowing his head to fall into his hands with a heavy sigh. he was feeling many emotions. confusion— about the whole thing. upset— he wasn’t able to get his side in. anger— over the newsflash comment. you had come a long way with his kids, and be had a controversial opinion on who was a better mother figure to the two.

————————————

“you can’t come tomorrow.”

the words feel like a stab in the heart when you hear them. daniel had sat you down in the living room after the kids had gone upstairs to play, and told you that he needed to talk to you.

you assumed it was serious, but you didn’t think it was this.

“what?” is all that falls from your lips, as you’re too shocked to form a proper sentence. daniel isn’t even looking at you, he’s more focused on picking his the nail of his index finger.

“you can’t— you can’t come tomorrow. i’m sorry, i know it’s quite late to tell you, but.. yeah,” he trails off, voice low. he still isn’t looking at you, hasn’t done since he asked you to sit with him. it feels dismissive, it feels wrong. it feels like a completely different person in front of you.

“have i done something? we were so excited to bake with the kids and sell their cakes,” you plead, reminding him that just yesterday, you were both so happy about the event.

“look— it’s.. it’s a parent event, yeah?” daniel lets out, cringing at his words. he hates that he’s listening to her, he doesn’t even agree with the decision, but something is telling him he has to.

then again maybe he shouldn’t, because the moment he finally looks up, he sees the saddened look on your face. he couldn’t read every emotion you seemed to portray— you looked upset, hurt and maybe.. betrayed? fuck.

“and— and please believe me when i say you do such a great job looking after them,” he starts, raising his hands as he goes to ramble out something to save his ass.

but you interrupt him with a dry laugh, shutting your eyes as you take a deep breath in. your head falls, and you stare down at your trembling hands that lay atop your thighs. suddenly your vision gets blurry and— oh, the tears have started.

daniel’s heart breaks as he sees the tears welling in your eyes, and he reaches out to comfort you. he wasn’t expecting it to be reciprocated well, but he wasn’t expecting you to completely pull away from him.

“sweetheart—” “don’t sweetheart me, daniel,” you snap, licking your suddenly dry lips. “i thought— i thought that maybe..” you started, daniel’s heart cracking even more at the wobble in your voice. “fuck— i really thought things were moving into a new chapter. i thought that the kids were seeing me as something more than just.. a babysitter. i thought you were starting to see me as something more than a fuck every now and then, like it was in the beginning.”

daniel gapes at your words, and shit. he hadn’t even thought about how the whole situation would have looked without context. but then again, would it have been better with it? it was too late to find out now, anyways.

“no— no, you know it’s not like that,” he tells you firmly, going to reach a hand out for you to comfort you, but he was taken aback when you abruptly stood up.

“i think i’m going to go,” you told him, not allowing nor wanting to hear the rest of what he had to say. as soon as you walked out the living room, he could only stare at the floor in disbelief.

he was trying so hard to obey to his ex, that he was completely disregarding you— his current partner’s— feelings. what the fuck was wrong with him?

he was brought back to reality when you had shouted upstairs to the kids, telling them you had to head back to your own house tonight— that there was some leftover work you had to do. daniel turned his head to the side, watching as his kids ran downstairs to give you a big hug, whining about how they wanted you to stay.

you didn’t even spare him a glance as you said your goodbyes, and he felt like the slammed front door was the only goodbye he’d be getting.

he had really fucked it.

okay honestly i did NOT expect it to get to 1k words.. LOL. angst just really draws me in and i get carried away!! thank you 🫠 nonnie again for this wonderful idea, you’re a godsend<3<3

part 2, perhaps? 👀

[deadgirlsnoring]

Sub! Alex turner

pet names, anal, spanking, paddle, spit kink, dildo, vibrator, cum eating, black girl reader.

“You’re ruining t-them.” He whimpered, voice slightly muffled from being bent over and pushed into the pillows.

You had yanked off the new panties you bought for him, the color a dark red. “Shh.”

His hair was all disheveled, lips bitten and swollen along with his back covered in red lipstick stained kisses.

Your hands held both of his wrists at his sides, going to kiss at his plump ass cheeks, “Mm, p-please,” You had to hold his wrists, god he was such a mover.

He tried moving closer when your tongue swiped across his pink puckered hole. Moaning, he backed himself into you, wanting more.

“Don’t fucking move,” you mumbled, grabbing the paddle before sitting down on the bed and adjusting him over your lap. A small pout fell on his face, his hair covering his eyes.

1..2..3

A choked moan turned into gasp escaped his lips, harshly biting down on his bottom lip, “Fuck! Mommy.. p-please.”

4..5..6

The paddle made way to the flesh of his ass once again, a sob breaking loose, “Please! I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I-Im sorry m..mommy, no more..” You giggled, he was just so cute it made you soaked.

“Two more puppy, okay? Such a cute boy for mommy. Love it when you’re such a slut, hm? Don’t you? Say it.” The paddle made its last hit, an almost pornographic moan leaving his pretty pink lips.

“Uh, fuck I’cant m-mommy.” Manicured nails played with the fat of his ass cheeks, the warm flesh making him squirm over your thighs.

You can feel his neglected cock twitching, “Oh puppy, you better fucking say it.”

“I-I—Spit it the fuck out.” God you were so rough with him, he rubbed himself against your thigh, groaning, “Mm I’m suchh a..a slut..”

Your hand slapped against his ass, “Good boy.” His whole body reacted, mouth dropping in a silent moan. “I love you mommy.”

Moving his body up onto the bed, you positioned him back to earlier, having him arch his back against the bed, his asshole making a big scene. “What toy do you want?”

“Whatever you think is best mommy.” A long line of spit connected to his pink hole, dripping down to his full needy ballsack.

You rummaged around the box, settling on a long vibrator dildo, one you haven’t used yet. It came with a remote control, your favourite kind.

“This one puppy?” His eyes widened at the size, had to be at least 6 inches, without it moving yet. You brought out some strawberry lube, only because Alex adored it, when you guys made out he wouldn’t let go of you.

“Such a desperate doggy.” You muttered, rubbing lube on his hole when he started massaging his hard cock on the mattress. A deep sigh escaped his lips, his eyes closing shut with pure bliss. Your thumb slipped in, and you saw the clouded look as he looked at you with his doe eyes.

He smiled, breaking eye contact, “I can feel you sucking me in, you need me?”

“S’ bad mommy, ple—fuckkk, need you soo bad,” Your brows raised watching as a pink raised to his cheeks, “Mhm? You ready for me?” He nodded his head, pouting his puffy lips.

You covered the entire dildo in lube letting your cutie watch the whole thing, he gulped, eyeing it all.

“Come here.” You ushered, “Take off my bra baby.” He was such an expert, clipping it off without even looking around you. Your hand cupped his cheek, plump lips swallowing his own.

Alex trembled under your grasp, his hands coming up to cup your perfect breasts. Squeezing, pulling, rubbing. He felt so dizzy you had to pull back from the kiss, he looked like he was from a porno. God, your boyfriend was so hot.

“I love you pretty, mm you ready?” He dizzily nodded. He settled in position, inhaling sharply when you breached his hole. “Mmfucckk…. That’s so good mommy.”

“Uh huh? Yeah? Almost in puppy.” When you got to the last 2 inches he cried out and his back arched even further, “Hurts sooo good baby, shitt I-I.”

Hm? Turn around lemme see that pretty little face.” You watched as he struggled, stifling a laugh. His legs were shaking as he got up on his knees to maneuver himself around, small little pleads and mewls leaving his lips.

“Spread em.” You cooed, you hadn’t even turned on the vibration’s and he was already shaking from the bottoms down. You made sure it was all in before you grabbed hold of the base and pulled it all the way out, and pushed it back in. “Ughh! Fuck! Mommy that’s sooo much.” You watched as his insides swallowed the dildo up, it looked so dirty.

“Soo much what? Cock? Shut up.”

“G-Godd I’m cummingg!” You shook your head, “I’m not stopping, cum if you want puppy.” You set a pace, a fast one, one that kept hitting that same target inside him. “Mmfph! S’good! God, mommy it f-feels amazingg.”

He felt that jerk of his hips, his vision start blurring and he knew what was coming. “Y/nnn, I really l-love—shit—you. Mmmfuckkk….”

“Mommy w-wait, I can’t—ffuuckk!! OoOh! You turned the vibrations on, just the first level. You hadn’t tried it on him yet so you wanted to test the waters.

You caressed his thigh, a quiet grunt escaping his lips compared to his loud almost fake ones. He moaned out, “Feels so good, feels like I’m gonna cumm again, so full.”

The feeling was so intoxicating, it had his brain feeling foggy, almost like his body had been frozen then felt a huge rush of heat. God the deep desire he felt for you ran deep.

He was sweaty, eyes glazed over and flushed, “M..More.. C-Can you g..go up a level please?” You smiled softly, pressing the button before watching him intently.

It’s like his whole body reacted. It touched that perfect spot inside him, eliciting that response only one thing can do, he loved it so much.

“You love it? Tell me you do Alex. Tell mommy you love what I do to you.” He squirmed, a cry escaping him. “Fuck! Mm I love it so much mommy I love it, I’m yours I love what you do to me baby, I’m all y-yours t..to use.”

“Can I cummm? Pleasepleasepleasee,” He whispered, trying to keep his eye contact but his glazed over eyes kept closing.

You brushed your lips together, pausing when you’re barely touching and just stared at him, his eyes all glossy he looked so edible. Connecting your lips your manicured hand wrapped around his throat, chasing his lips that were chasing yours.

You’d have to stop and wait for a little bit when the toy would hit his prostate, a choked gasp escaping his lungs.

“Hey, hey,” you mumbled, “you wanna cum? Beg for it.”

Connecting them once again, you bit and sucked on his bottom lip, dragging it out with you, a whine following suit.

“Mommyyy, can I cum please? Please? God please! I’m so needy for you fuck I want it—want youu.”

“Go on puppy, you can cum.” You turned it up to the highest level, wanting to see how it would affect him, shocked how quickly it seemed to do so.

“Thank you!, thank you mommyy, I love you.”

Alex saw static, the knot quickly unraveled in his stomach, a pornographic moan mixed with your name fell from his lips over and over again, you could tell your panties were stuck to you.

He was slump, he’d never had an orgasm this strong before, he was so loud he knew you two would have complaints, it would be inevitable. “You’re okay baby, you okay?”

Xoxo

[off-mozzarella]

Nice catch! :]

Here's a very self indulgent and low effort drawing I made in an attempt to keep my sanity lol

[g4yforethan]

don't smile

pairing: joel x male!reader

summary: joel does his best to relax reader after a terrifying event

warnings: cursing, violence, mention of hallucinat!ons, top!joel, bottom!reader

a/n: saw smile 1 and 2 and i'm obsessed with kyle gallner now he is sooo fine omfg

you knocked on his door waiting for him to open it. you knocked again and again when he finally did. "y/n. what's up? it's almost 1 in the morning." you stayed silent and hugged him as he wrapped his arms around you even tighter. "come in. sit down baby boy." he whispered in your ear as he shut the door. you sat down and massaged your head as he rubbed your back. "im sorry for barging in on you like this. i've just been having a really weird day and i needed someone to talk to. someone i can trust." you tearfully confessed. "i'm here baby i promise. what's been happening though?" joel asked you as he kissed your head. "i've just been noticing a pattern. like everyone is just...smiling at me. i know it sounds weird or like i'm hallucinating but it feels so real. i'm scared joel." you felt your heart beat go up.

"jesus. i'm sorry you're dealing with this shit y/n. what can i do to make you feel better?" joel got even closer held you in his arms as you cried. you laid your head on his chest as you gathered the courage to talk. "i don't know. i was kinda thinking if... i could stay the night with you." you slowly whispered. "of course baby boy. you know i love having you around." you looked up and kissed his soft lips. "god i missed you. feels like we haven't been together in so long." you said. "god i know. feels like we haven't fucked in so long." joel replied as you laughed and looked at him. "it has been a while huh? you missed fucking my ass?" you asked as joel gripped your butt. "haha what do you think pretty boy?" he grinnned. "you know being here is making me feel so much better. kinda feeling like getting fucked right now too." you grinned at joel as he picked you up and laid you down on his bed.

joel took his shirt off and started kissing your neck and unzipped your jeans. you turned over and pulled his pants down and massaged his bulge. "fucking use my dick baby. it's all yours." he moaned as you stopped teasing him and put his thick white cock inside your mouth. he used your head and shoved his dick down your throat. "god i wanna feel you inside me joel." you begged and joel listened as he flipped you around and gripped your waist. he spit on his hand before slowly entering your tight hole. "fuck i love how your hole grips the shit outta my dick baby." he moaned and pushed himself inside you even harder. he smacked your ass cheeks and pulled you by your hair. "fuck right there daddy." joel loved hearing you moan in his ear. "yeah you missed this fucking dick didn't you?" he whispered. "fuck yeah i want it all in me baby." you replied.

"fucking ride me baby." joel said as he stopped and laid on his back placing you on top of him. you massaged his chest as you entered him and rolled your eyes back in pleasure. joel enjoyed watching you moan as you took his dick and jerked you off while you rode him. "fuck joel i fucking love you." you yelled as he sucked your dick while you continued boucning up and down on his cock. "you gon make me cum baby boy." joel moaned. you stopped and thought of another idea. you laid on the edge of the bed and told joel to shove his cock in your mouth. joel moaned as he fucked your face and came inside your mouth. you jerked off and came at the sound of his own moans. "that dick make you feel better about today baby boy?" joel asked as you laid on his bare back. "that dick can do miracles to anyone joel. that's for fucking sure." you replied and joel laughed as you fell asleep in his arms.

[yourlocalsmutwriter]

Tell me something awful like you are a lover stuck in the body of a racing guy - Fernando Alonso x reader

Summary: phone sex drabble with Alonso I wrote on the train.

Pop music blares through your headphones from your guilty pleasure playlist as you're scrubbing a kitchen counter. The blonde singer's words about hating it here couldn't resonate with you more. Living with strangers was bareable. Them being students and not really sticking to a cleaning schedule was to be expected. You'd committed similar sins before. But texting your landlord to fix your water pressure while the state of the kitchen (and honestly, the whole flat) was abysmal wasn't the smartest. You hated confrontation,so it was on you to bring everything up to the guy's standards. One bit of the shared space took you an hour. You were tired. Unemployed. Done. Cold. Just as you were about to follow your astrology app's suggestion of a good cry, you get a WhatsApp notification from your boyfriend, asking you to call him.

"Hey, Fernando. Everything all right?"you say as his face pops on screen.

"Yeah, I just woke up. Figured I wanted to give you a tour of Sin City, but I think you'll have to wait a bit," he trails off.

"What, not feeling like an early bird, huh? Usually, I'd be the one bugging you to stay in bed with me and cuddle more. What's new, hmm?" you ask, curious as to why he's called you out of the blue.

He just grunts and flips the camera. Your eyes take a second to process what you're seeing. And then you focus on the tent in his boxers. As if intent to kill you both on the spot, he adds, "You know, it's your fault. Had a dream about you, and apparently, even fake you has the same effect as the real thing."

You laugh, just a bit.

"Sorry, sorry, love. Just the thought of you getting a morning boner like some teenager is hilarious." Sensing that he's about to hang up and not wanting to deal with it, there's a plan forming. The good cry you were considering a few moments before was going to be turning into a good wank. "Wait. Let me help you. Please?"

Fernando pretends to consider it for a moment. You both know that phone sex is the key to not loosing one's mind during a triple header.

"Fine." He agrees. "But you gotta put on a real show on for me, beautiful. Wanna see you ride your toy like it's me.".

"It is you,". Nando's reaction to your previous dildo was to replace it as soon as possible. You were flabbergasted that he would go through with cloning his willy, as the kit said, just to stake a stupid claim on you. All your annoyance evaporated the first time you used the new toy and came so hard you questioned every other solo orgasm before. You tell your boyfriend you'd be right back as you swiftly disappear to wash the dildo. Thankfully, no one's around to see you. You prop your phone on the edge of the bed, following Nando's example. His hand is already slowly palming his cock. You're about to spread the lube on your hands, when you realize you're still fully clothed.

"Teasing or quickie?" You ask him.

"You know the quote, honey. As much as I wanna watch you touch yourself and suck it first, on a time crunch here. So, clothes off and giddy up, cowgirl." He says.

You spread the lube on the dildo, matching Fernando's pace. God, the visuals of his cock, ready for you but out of reach was driving you crazy.

"You know what to do, baby. Rub your clit like I would touch you. Don't be cutting corners just because I'm not there to guide you on it properly." He adds.

You loved his more commanding side. Before you two had sex for the first time, he wondered why you'd pick someone his age to date. It became glaring obvious during fucking you, the way you melted against his words, how you begged him to be faster, harder, rougher, to not hold back on you. You depended on him to give you just what other partners often missed to do.

You realized that you were spacing out and returned to the task at hand. Circling your clit, once, twice and thrice and already you're wet and ready. You straddle the toy, making sure Fernando gets a premium view of how the plastic cock sinks inside of you slowly.

He groans and tightens his fist, squeezing it against the base.

"Faster, honey. Show me that I taught you how to take it. Ride it for me." He commands, needing to see you fall apart and soon.

You bite your lip and find your rhythm. Usually, when you used the dildo, it was in missionary. This position was making everything so much more intense for you it was as if you were doing it with the real thing. Speeding up, you could feel the toy going deeper, making you clench against it. You let you a quiet moan of Fernando's name, a plea, and a futile action.

"You look so good like this, my love. God, when I come back, I want to taste you as you play with this. Would you like this? To feel my tongue on your clit as you're fucking yourself on my dick, huh? Sound good, no?". Nando's fantasy reminds you of how his hands will be on you soon, how you'll fall apart on his lips, how he'll make sure to have you coming in exotic destinations, away from everything you hate here. This fuels a fire in you and you're thrusting your hips, the toy slick with your wetness.

Your boyfriend's pumping matches your speed, and you can see how he's rubbing down drops of precum down his shaft.

"Tell me when you're about to cum for me, beautiful. Let's do it together." Less than a minute later you're a moaning mess, pussy clenching against the plastic replica of your lover's cock and saying that you're about to finish. Fernando encourages you to go over the edge, to finish you both off like a good girl. And that's exactly what you do. You wish you could take the shot where he angles his cock and cums all over his stomach and have it burned behind your retinas forever. You're both panting and spent and taking a few minutes before starting your actual post-orgasm rituals and clean up.

"I'll call you again in half an hour, okay? Let me know what you wanna see of Vegas, and I'll have my driver pass it. Think I have the time to even walk into some landmarks and get you whatever souvenirs what you want. Plan and let me know. I love you, sweetheart." He says. Underneath the tough exterior and the sometimes arrogant facade was a gentle, wonderful boyfriend. Maybe you didn't really hate it here. And just maybe he was a lover, stuck in the body of a racing guy.