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zweiginator · 17 days

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Matching with both Art and Patrick on a dating app and they both have different angles of taking you out.

Art messages you and says you’re beautiful, asks to take you out to mini golf after a casual dinner. Patrick has no filter—he doesn’t say anything bad, he just is outspoken about how hot he finds you. He takes you to a movie you both talked about seeing.

You were just dating around, trying to find someone that clicked. You didn’t know they were best friends until your friend invited you to a doubles match.

“What’s with the sudden interest in tennis?” You asked, taking a sip of your lemonade.

“These boys,” your friend ogled. “Are gorgeous.”

You saw Art first, waving to his friends while he stretched his hamstrings. Patrick was next, squirting Gatorade into his mouth and stretching his shoulders with his racket.

They both saw you in the crowd, sunglasses perched at the end of your nose while you applied your lip gloss. They both played their best, hoping to impress you. Neither of them noticed the other doing it, until they both found themselves wandering up to where you were sitting after the match, one leg perched on the metal bleacher on either side of you, their chests heaving, collarbones slick with sweat.

And then the simultaneous “How do you know her?”

You all get dinner afterwards; it’s odd how nonchalant they are about going on a date with the same girl. You figured you’d laugh about it and never see either one again. But just as they showboated on the court, they loved the competition of courting you, together.

Patrick was blunt on the way back to his summer house, you in the passenger seat, Art in the middle seat in the back, elbows resting on the center console.

“Who fucked you better?”

You gulped. You had only fucked Patrick. After the movie he set up a blanket in the back of his SUV and watched the stars with you, sharing the last of your popcorn and candy from the theater. He fucked you slow, holding your wrists above your head, your ankles wrapped around his waist. It was good sex, it came naturally.

Art was sweet. You knew he wanted to take a little longer. You kissed him on the cheek and blushed, holding the rose he had gotten you—just one so he wouldn’t come off too strong. But he would wait for you.

But, Art’s face dropped.

Patrick snorted. “Oh fuck, sorry.”

You shoved him. “You’re an asshole.”

“You fucked?” Art sat back, crossing his arms. His legs were cramped in the backseat.

“Maybe.” Patrick shrugged.

“Fuck off.” Art rolled his eyes. You liked this side of him. Pissed off, territorial, competitive.

“I can’t answer your question then, Patrick.”

Patrick put the car in park and unbuckled his seatbelt. “Let Art fuck you and you can.” He said it so calmly, flashing you a smile as he opened the door.

You answered without thinking. “Okay.”

Art shook his head. “Don’t feel pressured to do that.”

“Pressured?” You looked up at him through your lashes and you swore you saw his knees buckle.

The living room was pristine; Patrick’s family had a cleaning service that came twice a week. Pillows on the couch were fluffed, fresh lines etched the carpet from the vacuum.

But Art grabbed your face, backing you into the couch, his cock pressing into you through his shorts. You took his hat off, throwing it on the ground as Art took your sneakers off. The moans he left in your mouth were pornographic as his fingers rubbed your clit through your panties. He was needy, obsessive. And you forgot Patrick was watching on the loveseat across from you, mouth agape.

Art pushed your underwear aside, one of his hands on the globe of your ass as he admired your pussy, all wet for him. He grinned at you while you pulled him in by his waistband, hungrily untying his shorts as he pushed them down his legs. His cock pushed into you slowly until Art hit the hilt, his hips stuttering against yours.

“Fuck,” He and Patrick said.

You took turns, looking at Art, looking at Patrick. Art ground his hips into you slowly until he became desperate, chasing his orgasm. Then he pounded you into the couch, his forehead pressed against yours, arms resting by your ears. You weren’t expecting this of Art—you weren’t expecting any of this.

“Tell me I fuck you better.” Art moaned into your ear, loud enough so only you could hear. Your hips bucked, legs shaking. He wanted so bad to win. To finally have something he excelled at over his best friend.

“God, Art, you fuck me so much better.” You said it loudly, looking at Patrick, whose legs were spread, cock straining against the shorts he still had on.

And you weren’t lying either.

#challengers #art donaldson #patrick zweig #challengers smut #Patrick zweig x reader x art Donaldson #giving my king art some love #need him

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notroosterbradshaw · 7 months

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about: just some smut to fend off jetlag. i love sleepy Bradley, I make no excuses that I feel he does his best work in the early hours of the day. This was supposed to be a drabble… it’s not anymore. Sorry.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: nsfw 18+, language, pure fluff, smut.

masterlist.

The morning after the night before when Bradley met your family for the first time, you'd flown across the world to surprise your dad for his birthday and really, it luckily coincided with Bradley's time off. When you mentioned heading home for your old man's special day that usually kicked off your family's holiday season, you almost fell out of your seat when he said maybe it was time he met the fam face-to-face, not just making small talk over FaceTime. It almost didn’t seem fair that he was subjected to meeting everyone this way, but alas… here you were the next morning, jet lag kicking in while wrapped protectively in Bradley’s strong, golden arms and washed in the relief your family fucking loved him. You weren't overly surprised.

Bradley's quiet, unassuming charm was just who your mum wanted you to end up with, he was into golf and surfing, so your dad and brothers thought he was the bee's knees. Your sister on the other hand...

You had to fend her off more than you would have liked. You were confident in your relationship with Bradley, knowing he'd never allow anything to happen. "You're coming across a little desperate," you hissed after one or two drinks, which mortified her, and she apologised, admitting she was just happy to finally get to meet the guy who'd swept you off your feet. "Yes, my feet," you reminded her. When she pointed out how possessive you sounded, you didn't deny it. But she got it and gave you space for the rest of the evening.

Ahh, sisters.

Bradley felt your body writhe in the gentlest of movements against his and he sighed. Sleep hadn’t come easy for either of you and compounded with the food and booze you’d indulged in the day before, neither of you slept much. “You okay, sweetheart?” he whispered at God-knows-what-o’clock.

“What time is it?” You asked softly.

“I dunno, baby. Sun is barely rising,” he admitted. “Can’t hear a peep in the house.”

Which was nice because yesterday was intense. Everyone was so excited to meet your new American boyfriend (fairly, it’d been about eight months, give or take with a few deployments), the incredibly handsome navy pilot whom you’d met one evening at a naval bar while travelling. You’d caught his eyes behind his sunglasses while he played the piano, the crowd around him as swept away with him as you were. The first half-smile in your direction, as he sang, had done you over in a way not one single person on the planet had before.

He'd charmed you instantly. He still charmed you constantly.

“Did you get any sleep?” you asked, biting back a yawn.

“Not really,” he peppered tender kisses into your shoulder blade and smiled into your skin as you pressed back into him, the oh-so-quiet moan made for his ears only waking him from his dreaded fog as well. “I’ll try and get a kip somewhere today. That fuckin’ flight murdered me.”

“You were happy to fly economy,” you muttered. “I know you’re used to tight quarters, but fuck Bradley. It was 15 hours."

“I know, I know I fucked up. I was looking at upgrades overnight. I’ll use my discount and stuff; we can do it flying home.”

“You sure?”

“Sue me for wanting to save a buck,” he sighed, with a tired, deep chuckle. “Flight was so full; people may as well have been sitting on the wings.”

“It’s Christmas. People travel.”

“You don't say,” he affectionately gripped your waist, rolling you to him and kissed you. “Good morning, I think," he nuzzled your nose against his and asked if you wanted some water or anything.

You shook your head, rolling back and snuggling into him as he adjusted his arms around you again, his nose buried in your hair. "I think Dad is gonna expect you for at least nine holes today."

"I think so, yeah. Grill me and make sure I'm good enough for his little girl.” He murmured and if he was honest, he was the teeniest bit nervous. He’d never really been in relationships long enough to meet families… and who would he introduce anyone to, except for Mav?

"I think you'll be fine."

"He probably wouldn't be if he knew what a deviant I've turned his smart, beautiful baby girl into.”

You giggled quietly as you could feel the soft ends of his moustache curve into a smirk against the nape of your neck. "He'd send you back on the first flight to LA."

"I would believe that," he said softly.

"I think yesterday went really well, Bradley," you confided quietly to him.

"You think? I was on my very best behaviour," he teased you.

"Yes, you were," you admitted. Not that he ever wasn't. Bradley was instilled with a remarkable set of manners. He was chivalrous and courteous to a fault, incredibly sweet and at times, pensive, even shy. Almost make believe that you were lucky enough to share his time. You wriggled back against him, and you could feel the hard-on straining through his boxer briefs. "Down, boy."

"Can't help it," he sighed. "You know what you do to me with that ass. I know what you want. You're not that transparent."

You bit back your pleased smile as his wandering hands travelled down your side, fingertips toying with the hem of his old Navy tee that was now your bed shirt. At home, you were nude sleepers. At your parents' home during the holidays? You showed decorum and respect and you both hated it, preferring skin-on-skin of the other but alas, anyone could walk in at any time.

“Have a thought about how we might be able to fuck this jetlag off…”

“Oh, yeah?” at this point, you’d do anything and with Bradley’s travel for work, you hoped maybe he might have some insight. You had planned to just power through and try not to be the world’s most exhausted asshole.

"You just move your thigh a little this way..." he murmured, his palm cupping your hamstring and you pressed back into him, grinning softly. “And I just slide up in here – ”

“Confident of you, don’t you think?”

“You’re always wet for me,” he whispered against your skin. “Unless you deny it.”

“Never…” you told him, reaching back to wrap an arm around his strong neck. “I just can't keep it down with you. Why didn’t you convince me to get the AirBnb?”

He loved how vocal you were during sex. Your moans, the hisses, the way you'd bite your lip when you were so close. That groan as you came, or the little squeal when you were too sensitive was burned into his brain as his favourite sounds in the world.

"Just lemme hold you then, it's okay, sweetheart," he grumbled. “I’ll live if you can.”

“Asshole,” you muttered as he chuckled.

“Do you want a blowjob?” You nervously offered, turning back to him and he looped your thigh over his hip and perched you above him with such little effort on his behalf - you loved how strong he was but you knew what was waiting for you, Bradley made no secret he was turned on and you loved that you were able to have him on a knife-edge at all times.

The one per cent, he’s told you once before.

You’re so sweet to him as you slowly dragged your hand into the waistband of his boxer briefs, revealing more and more skin, cock springing free, slapping against his toned, tanned Adonis belt. Long, thick and dripping with precum already and he almost blushed at how eager he was.

“I’ll never say no,” he replied, “And I know you might be uncomfortable here. Your dad is right across the hall, baby."

“But my daddy is right here…” you immediately corrected him, and he smiled darkly to himself. You didn't use that term lightly, you couldn’t nfi fed to him he had the ability to bring out your innermost feral when you least expected it and he would do his utmost to encourage it (if you were comfortable).

“Jesus,” his head was swirling, trying to keep calm and not blow his load the second you bared your tongue to him but there was absolutely nothing sweet about it. He was a preening mess when you went down on him. The night you'd told him you weren't overly experienced in blow jobs was the greatest night of his life, coaching you through what he liked and watching you perfect your generous technique time and time again.

These days, you loved giving Bradley head. He gave you confidence, he made you feel sexy and not like it was only about him on the receiving end. He’s whispered and encouraged, and when it all got too much, he told you he was close. He was neither here nor there on the whole spit or swallow thing… until you and your preference but he was never left empty-handed.

"Shh," you hissed. "Not a sound."

That one thing you did for him that absolutely made him come undone. And he'd bury his face in your pussy all day if you allowed him to show you how fucking grateful, he was for all the pleasure you presented him. Your sweet, tight wetness that he would eagerly drown himself in if you’d let him.

Your honeyed tongue delicately tasted the flawless head of his cock, lapping up the precum as Bradley's eyes rolled back into his head and his big hands reached to knot into your hair as you went to work, swirling your tongue and looking up with your big, scheming eyes, knowing you had him at his most precarious.

He was a weapon in his training, his mind and body were always primed to do what was asked of him, but you were the exception and it scared and excited him.

He could feel himself getting so close to painting the back of that beautiful mouth, and while it pained him to say it, the way your eyes softened told him he’d made the right choice. “Come on, baby, I want you.”

You gently pulled away and asked, “You don’t want me to finish?”

“No, I wanna fuck, baby. Watch you lose control.”

“Okay,” you said, your soft hand trading with your warm mouth to tenderly pump and tease him.

“Gimme a sec. I don't have condoms close,” he whispered. “They're in my luggage.”

"Just pull out, sweetheart," you enticed him, wanting to feel all of him. It was so infrequent you fucked without protection, and of course, you both preferred it that way but after a pregnancy scare (or not, neither of you was really sure) a few months back, you'd both decided to stop tempting fate and ensuring there was a stash of condoms at his place, your place... the goddamn Bronco – Bradley understood that it was your body and you didn’t want to be on the pill. A condom was the least he could do, and he knew it.

Bradley helped you move up his body and rest you above him. "Are you sure?" he kissed you, your gleaming teeth lightly stinging into his bottom lip with an affectionate nip.

“I trust you,” you told him. "Cum where you need...”

Truth be told, he wanted to cum deep, but he licked back a wet smile and he moved to his knees to pull his navy tee over your head, bearing your beautiful breasts to him, full, round, nipples begging for attention. “On your back, baby,” he urged, guiding you under him, anticipating how wet you were for him, legs splaying open unashamed. He rested the head of his cock on your weeping cunt, his fingers spreading your bare lips and sweeping your slick across your clit, fascinated by that little peep of desperation from you. Your head fell back against the pillows, bliss sweeping through you as he sweetly pressed one finger into you. “Drippin’,” he reported, pressing in another finger and his thumb rubbing tenderly against your throbbing clit. “Gonna gush for me?”

You probably would, Bradley’s ability to drag absolutely everything out of you blew your mind each time. “Need your cock. Fill me up, Bradley.”

Pushing in, one delicious inch by delicious inch, licking his full lips as your back curved to take him as deeply as possible. He buried his face in your breasts, holding one in his calloused palm, eyes fluttering closed as he traced, left wet, open-mouthed kissed and tenderly bit the other, and the groan you let you made him clamp his palm over your mouth. “You’re so wet, baby,” he stared deeply into your eyes as he evened his breath with the first few rolls of his slender hips. "But you're gonna wake your parents if you don’t control yourself."

"Let them fuckin' hear," you muttered behind your hand (you’d die if they heard you though) as he chuckled and began his ruthless assault on your senses, one thrust at a time.

"You're too good to me," Bradley reminded you in disbelief.

"All for you," you confided, as you watched the beads of sweat break across his brow as you dug your nails into his well-worked traps, willingly knowing it would leave a mark courtesy of your fresh manicure. You raised your hips to meet his deep, plunging thrusts, fucking into you strong and deep. He felt incredible, you don't think anyone had loved on you as Bradley Bradshaw could. So thorough, and never one to leave you hanging.

Too long, too sore? He'd pause and tenderly withdraw to hold you, reassuring you that it was fine, and your comfort was paramount. Too sensitive after coming too hard, he'd give you time to recover, finding other ways to bring you pleasure.

It was nice to be considered in your relationship, in your sex life especially. In the past, you'd been made to feel like a machine, if you didn't cum, partners still could, and you'd just deal with it. For a long time, that stuck with you and having someone consider you like Bradley would almost seem too good to be true at the start.

But that consideration never lapsed. He was make-believe and you fucking hoped if this man and everything he brought to you was a dream that you’d never, ever wake up.

Desperate to keep himself controlled, Bradley reached for the headboard of your old bed, gripping it for dear life as he tried so damn hard to avoid coming. He loved fucking you raw, and since birth control was completely your choice, you two had to stop playing this dangerous game. Because one day? It would beat you both.

"I need to cum, Bradley," you whined to him as he nodded, chewing his lower lip, and putting your delicate fingers in your mouth, not losing his rhythm. He knew. He knew how close you were.

"Lemme see you touch yourself, baby. Get those fingers - " he gasped as you clenched around him. "Get 'em nice and wet and play with that sweet, tight pussy. Lemme see you fall apart.”

Before, language like that would embarrass you, but with Bradley, it only spurred you on. It was incredible the ways he’d helped you grow and mature as a friend, partner and lover. As instructed, and in the low early morning light, Bradley’s breath hitched, watching you touch yourself and you couldn’t help it, the beat of his cock against your g-spot, your fingers pressing rough circles into your clit and you started to come.

“Yes, baby. Yes,” he urged, moving his mouth to your ear, whispering his sweet encouragement. “You feel so good, just a little mo – ” he forced his mouth against yours, kissing your pleasure to him, to keep the noise down. He wrapped his hand under your hip, lifting your waist to push harder into you as you trembled below him, your pussy clutching his cock, spasming as he shuddered against your lips. “Yes, baby.”

“Jesus, Bradley, fuck me,” you begged as his hips speed up like a piston, thrusting hard into your swollen, sensitive pussy, his hand clutching yours away from your strained clit and pressing intensely in your place, hoping to drag your orgasm out and as you fell, lifeless, back against the squishy pillows, pussy pulsating, Bradley grunted low he was coming and after his final few thrusts, he quickly withdrew and unloaded, stroking himself until he was spent, pearly ribbons of cum decorating your belly and breasts.

He collapsed beside you, taking your cheeks in his face and kissing you wildly. “I love you. I love you, baby,” he kissed you again, and though you were spent, you returned his affections, because truly… you loved Bradley Bradshaw with your entire being. It was going to take a lot to change that. “Are you okay?” he asked, chest still heaving as he breathed, his pointer finger tracing through the mess he made on you.

“I’m good, sweetheart,” you assured him as he gave you one last, final kiss.

“Think that helped with your jetlag?” he teased.

“Makes me want another round,” you admitted as he chuckled and raised an eyebrow.

“Of course you do,” he pressed a kiss into your pulse and lifted his lips back to yours, holding you close and just like horny teenagers, enjoying making out for a few moments in the afterglow. “Where’s that shirt gone?” he asked, peering over the side of the bed, and cleaning you up. “Jackson Pollack painting here.”

“Be less proud,” you told him as he snorted.

“Yes, ma’am,” he pressed another kiss to your lips. “Sure you’re okay?”

“Perfect, but let me go pee,” you whispered as Bradley kissed you long and deep, he nodded into the kiss but was not quite ready to leave you leave him.

“Go, clean up, baby,” he helped you up from the bed, your legs precarious and meandering like Bambi. “Careful,” he sighed, wistfully. But he knew it already, you were thoroughly fucked, just how he liked it.

A few hours later and thankfully, a few more hours of sleep, your alarm woke you, the sun much higher in the sky and the heat of the day starting to rise. You’d showered and told him to come down when he was ready, you’d help your Mum with some brekky.

“You want eggs?”

“Anything,” Bradley admitted. “Famished.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” you cupped his face in your palms and kissed him lightly. “Don’t rush.”

“Okay,” he gave a small grin but didn’t much feel like lingering. After a quick shower, he dressed, annoyed he didn't pack any golf gear, at minimum the shoes that you gave him grief for every time he wore them, but maybe he'd treat himself and buy some at the course today. He rifled through his bag, clutching the velvet box in his palm tightly, convinced more than ever that this was real, this was happening and soon, he'd hope to have you wearing his mother's engagement ring too.

Slapping on his CVN-71 cap, he knew you went a bit feral when he perched it backward. May as well leave you with good thoughts while he was out and about, asking your old man for your hand on the golf course. And if it went badly, it was also something to identify him when the authorities found him if your dad said no.

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vividwritinglove · 11 months

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his boat - Carlos Sainz

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pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr x fem!reader

words: 1.8K

warning: smut (minors dni)

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Now you are lying here. In the blazing sun, in a skinny bikini, on the most beautiful boat you've ever seen, in a bay of a Balearic island. You could not have imagined a more beautiful summer. In general, five weeks ago, you didn't expect to experience such a summer at all. And that with him, Carlos Sainz Jr.

You met him in a nightclub in Budapest at the after parties of the Grand Prix. He was the one who saw you first and immediately took the initiative to approach you. A casual conversation turned into a playful flirtation, which ended in a hot make-out session. After just a few hours, he desired you so much that he had to see you again! He wanted you. He needed you.

For you, it was a harmless fling that might end in a one-night stand. No kiss in the morning, no hard feelings. You enjoyed the moment and let yourself go. And before you knew it, you were smitten by him! Never before did you get this kind of attention. He made you feel like the most beautiful woman on earth. The sweet nothings he whispered in your ear with his strong Spanish accent would haunt you for months. You were sure of it!

He took you back to his hotel room and quickly it was clear where it was going. But he didn't just take what he wanted. He gave so much back. He was very attentive, immediately noticed what your body reacted to pleasurably and applied it conscientiously in the following rounds. Rounds, several. This man had the highest sex drive you have ever experienced. It is still a mystery to you how you kept up with him. Probably the curiosity and the secrecy he brought with him.

There was no thought of sleep and as soon as the first rays of sunlight fell into the room, you squirmed out of his arms and packed up your belongings. Your cell phone lay on a nightstand cabinet right next to him. As you were about to reach for it, his hand held you back by your wrist. Earlier, he had been sound asleep, so you look at him, a little startled.

"Stay." he murmurs in a raspy morning voice, with tousled hair and a sleepy dreamy look on his face, "At least for breakfast."

And breakfast turned into dinner, another night once again filled with lustful and mind-blowing sex, leading to another breakfast including a day on the golf course. He invited you to the Grand Prix in Belgium. You declined, your plane was going back home the next day and your work was already waiting for you. You exchanged numbers and wrote animated messages since you parted ways at the airport. You weren’t looking for anything. Men like him only break your heart. So stick to: Only sex, no hard feelings. You kept telling it to yourself.

The messages became more intense. More intimate. Until he wrote how much he missed you and couldn’t wait to see you again. You would be lying if you said you didn't like it. He wanted to get to know you and remained persistent. After Spa was the summer break and he wants to spend it with you. Only with you. All alone. He persuaded you with the tongues of angels. He's damn good at it. And in the end, he succeeded. You requested a workation and before you knew it, you were already spending the third week with him on Mallorca.

He pampers you from head to toe. Takes you out to the best restaurants, goes shopping with you, shows you his favorite places on the island and night after night you have uninhibited and passionate sex. It feels like a dream. Almost too good to be true. You enjoy every second of it. Like now, when you're tanning in the Spanish sun on his boat as your peace is suddenly disturbed by cold drops of salt water. You wince and pull your new sunglasses off your nose, "Hey!" you exclaim indignantly. You blink up at him, and he stands triumphantly above you, blocking out the sun. His facial expressions were barely visible because of the shadows. More drops of water roll off his well-toned, tanned torso and continue to land on you. He runs a hand through his hair and tucks it back.

"I don't want you to get burned..." he warns you, presumably referring to the sun.

"I won't." you reply confidently, but you don't really know what you mean by that.

Carlos runs his fingers over his mouth. He can't deny it. He is crazy about you. You've flashed him and he needs you in his life. Slowly, he gets down on his knees and settles between your legs. Gladly, you open them invitingly and grant him the space he needs. He leans forward and props himself up on his forearms next to your head. Immediately, you sink into his warm brown eyes, which seem so dominant and caring at the same time. His nose lightly touches yours and as soon as you feel the contact, you close your eyes and lift your chin. With a grin on his lips, he kisses you. Gently, almost tentatively. Rarely has anyone kissed you so well. His kisses taste salty from the seawater. Your hands wander into his wet curls as your kiss intensifies. He moans into your mouth and breathes your name excitedly. You want more. You want him. Now. In the middle of the day, on this boat. You don't care if or who sees you. Fortunately, today Carlos has headed for a bay that no one but you have visited so far.

He will follow your request. Immediately. His lips wander and now they caress the sensitive skin of the crook of your neck. In response, you wrap your legs around his middle and draw in a sharp breath as his wet and cool swim trunks touch your inner thighs. You feel more than just that. Greedily, you bite your lower lip as you feel his already stiff cock against your clothed core and you know what to expect. Carlos, on the other hand, continues to kiss your neck undisturbed and now goes down on your body. Starting between your breasts. With his hands, he parted your bikini top and caressed your two nipples. Meanwhile, you could no longer suppress a moan and lift your chest lustfully towards him. A sign for Carlos not to stop. On the contrary, he must take it to the extreme. His mouth wanders further down from your breasts to your belly and now lingers at the cuff of your bikini thong. He looks up at you and sees how you continue to bite your lower lip and squirm with pleasure under his touch and kisses. Grinning, he lets one hand wander up to your breasts again and grabs one of them hard. You moan louder now and press your thighs together.

He takes advantage of the moment and inserts his other hand into your thong. First he only lightly strokes your Venus mound with his fingers, then he goes with two fingers through your already wet folds. Again, you moan loudly and your grip in his hair becomes more hearty. "Carlos, please..." you beg for a release. Quickly, he strips the piece of fabric from the thong that is annoying for him from your hips and replaces his fingers with his tongue. Greedily, he sucks your clit into his mouth. Again and again he looks up at you and this time your eyes meet. He is so eager to give you the pleasure of your life that you are unbridled by his passion, which drives like electricity through your body. He adds his fingers and continues to watch you. You were about to explode. He knows exactly which buttons to push on you to get you where he wants you to be. Whimpering and begging for more. He loves to see you like this.

"Need you inside me. Now." You sigh demanding and it sounds like music to his ears. You don't have to tell him twice. He straightens his upper body and quickly strips his swim shorts off. He moans in release as his cock is finally freed from the now too tight shorts. You prop yourself up on your forearms and can't take your eyes off his beautiful body. Everything about him is perfect, as if he were made for you. He positions himself in front of your core, slowly and gently enters you and places his hands on your hips. Your hands run over his upper arms. His skin feels warm and soft under your fingers. He starts to move and quickly finds his rhythm, which gives you this special feeling. His thrusts become faster and stronger. Just the way you like it. You grip his upper arms harder as the knot in your abdomen tightens. By now, you are moaning together. Some strands of his hair have fallen into Carlos' face. Over and over, your eyes meet. His eyes are almost black and have something animalistic about them that makes you go crazy. You want to feel him more intensely, so now you put your legs on his shoulders. Carlos understands immediately. He loves this position. He wraps his arms around your thighs to keep you close to him. His rhythm increases again and lets you see stars.

His gaze continues to be directed at you. Your pleasure satisfies him more than anything. As you let your eyes roll into the back of your head, he loses all restraint. He squeezes his arms so hard now that you swear he will leave bruises on your thighs. But you don't care. You would wear them with pride. His thrusts become messier. It won't take him much longer and neither will you. The knot is about to burst.

"Carlos, I... I..." you gasp out, but you're lost for words. "Cum with me, Bebé." he hisses through his teeth, dropping his head back into his neck now and a loud howl escapes his throat. He looked so damn sexy right now. That sight makes you climax immediately. Your legs tremble and exhausted, you let them slide off his shoulders. Carlos is also out of breath. With a satisfied smile, he leans forward again, laying on top of you and burying his face in the crook of your neck again. His weight on you just feels divine.

Your nails roam in gentle circular motions over his broad shoulder blades. You hear a satisfied sigh and enjoy this intimate moment with him. "I wish I could stay here forever..." you whisper in his ear. He turns his head to look at you. He smiles at you, the sun's rays falling into his eyes, making them look amber, almost golden. "Join me. Next week. To Zandvoort." His previously demanding look now changes to a begging one that you can't resist. You have to grin and say, "I'll think about it..." already knowing your answer is yes.

#Carlos Sainz #cs55 #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz one shot #f1 x reader #f1 smut

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witchwyfe · 9 months

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best way to spend a summer day - kook friend group

pairing - (non-canon) platonic!kook friend group x female reader, (non canon) platonic!rafe cameron x female reader, (non canon) platonic!topper thornton x female reader, (non canon) platonic!kelce x female reader

précis - golfing with the boys!

content/warnings - mentions of alcohol, alcohol consumption, mentions of food, mentions of eating, language

word count - 818

"What if we--"

"No."

"Please!"

"No."

"Please angel, we'll only do 9 holes and then buy you lunch after." Topper, ever the mediator, offers.

"You were gonna buy me lunch anyway."

Rafe rolls his eyes and you snicker, leaning back in the lounge chair you're resting in.

"I just don't understand why this how y'all want to spend your time. Kelce's internship and Rafe's study abroad start in one month, we're wasting our one month of summer by fucking hitting balls on grass."

You're met with three glares and simultaneous responses.

"Okay, you can't say 'we' if you haven't even been going."

"There is way more technique than just hitting balls."

"Hey!"

"And what would you suggest we do then, mamas?" Kelce asks, raising an eyebrow over his sunglasses.

Your face warms at being put on the spot, three gazes stuck patiently on you.

"I don't know, shopping on the mainland, movie nights, brunch at the island club--"

"You can have island club drinks on the golf cart!" Rafe exclaims, throwing his arms up before slapping them at his sides. "And we'll get brunch afterwards."

You sigh dramatically. "9 holes? Not 18?"

Rafe smiles, knowing they've already won. "Of course."

Topper picks you up bright and early the next morning, Rafe and Kelce already packed into the backseat with one set of clubs, the other two in the trunk.

"Morning boys." You smile sarcastically, climbing into the front passenger seat.

"Good morning mamas." Kelce smiles. "Thank you for coming."

"Hm, y'all better make it worth my while." You joke.

"Getting to spend time with your best friends isn't worth it?" Rafe asks, feigning offense.

"Shut up," You groan. "You guys know I love you. Even when you make me golf."

They all made a big deal about your new Lululemon golf dress, and promise to take cute pictures of you in the golf cart, all by the time you pull up to the country club.

You juggle your sunglasses, phone, and water bottle once Rafe opens the door for you.

"Thank you Rafe," You smile, reaching up to pinch his cheeks. "You're such a gentleman."

You wait with Kelce while the other two go to get the cart. You let their clubs stay propped up against your legs so that don't fall to the ground.

Topper takes the purple Stanley--that he got you for Christmas--from your hands and sets it into the cup holder. You help them load up their clubs then you're making yourself comfortable in the front again.

"Do they sell cocktails at the beverage carts?" You wonder. "Or should I grab one now before we go?"

"Think they only sell beer, babe." Kelce frowns. "And they don't allow open cups on the course."

You groan, leaning your head back. Rafe digs around in his golf bag, brandishing a small bottle of champagne.

"Don't worry bestie girl, we didn't forget about you." He smiles, shoving the bottle back inside. "Gonna get you some orange juice from the bev cart and you can make a mimosa."

"Rafe!" You cry, throwing your arms around him. "You're the best!"

"I know, I know," He smirks. "Aren't you glad you came with us, now?"

"I guess," You grumble, playfully rolling your eyes.

You sit comfortably in the golf cart, while your friends play, sipping on the mimosa Rafe mixed you, scrolling on social media, and occasionally reminding the boys to reapply their sunscreen.

Kelce even dragged you out to take a swing and they all cheered you on when you failed miserably, taking a sloppy bow before skipping back to the golf cart.

Once you’re back at the club, seated at your favorite table, you’re lightly clasping your mimosa glass in your hand—this one prepared by your waiter and not Rafe with his Blender bottle.

“I think it tasted better when you made it, Rafe.” You frown, taking another sip anyway.

“'Course it did.” He grins smugly.

You pull a lip gloss from the handy pocket in your golf outfit, coating a thick layer over your lips. You take your napkin and work it over the rim of your glass too, even though you'll get more gloss stuck to it on your next sip.

"You're just one of the boys, aren't you?" Topper teases, just to mess with you.

You cap your gloss and set it on the table, narrowing your eyes into a glare at Topper. "No, I am not."

"Yeah, she's like our bratty little sister." Rafe pipes up, reaching over the table to steal a handful of your fries.

"Yeah, I'm the bratty one." You smack Rafe's hand, grinning when he whines. "And I'm literally older than you, Rafe."

"By like two months!" He argues.

"Okay and?" You retort. "Still older."

He makes a point by stealing more of your fries.

"Brat. You know you're the one paying for those, right?"

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daydreaming-in-letters · 7 days

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I recently came across your blog and I enjoy your fics immensely, so this is a first for me.

This interview of Hozier killed me in the best possible way, so curious to see what you would do with Andrew driving. Also if it would have a NFWMB vibe, I wouldn't be mad. But do whatever you want with it :)

My dear, I cannot thank you enough for this request. This interview has been playing on repeat these past few days. I just...I can't get it out of my head. Seeing this man behind the wheel does things to me. And believe it or not, I had already been planning to write this. I had even compiled a tiny mood board to go with it. The NFWMB vibe was a challenge though, I'll have to admit. But I think I managed (kind of?). Hope you like it. 💚

warnings: language, maybe; one tiny insinuation to smut, blink and you'll miss it; otherwise pure fluff

It was not terribly hot, not for a summer’s day anyway, still the sun stung as it burned down on you from the highest point of its ellipsis. You checked your watch, then scanned your surroundings if there was a shady spot to be found. There was not, at least not anywhere close by, and he had told you to wait for him right here. He had been very specific about that.

That had been about ten minutes ago, and you were almost beginning to wonder if he would come back for you after all, when you spotted him in the distance, fashionably late as always. He circled around a corner, hair flying in the wind, and you could not help but laugh at the peculiar sight in front of you. Like a giraffe in a toy car, you thought, as he came closer. Still he seemed so pleased with himself, on his lips a smile so bright it put the sun to shame, and which, no doubt, reached all the way up to his beautiful eyes. You had never loathed a pair of sunglasses more for hiding them from you.

“What is that?” you burst out laughing when he came to a stop right next to you.

“A golf cart.”

“I can see that.” You playfully rolled your eyes at him. “I meant, what are you doing in that thing?”

“It’s ours for the next two hours. Come on, get in, loser.”

He did not have to tell you twice. Two hours alone with your man sounded like heaven, even if he would potentially kill you both with that thing. And so you squeezed in next to him, not forgetting to nudge his arm.

“That’s for calling me a loser.”

He could not help but laugh upon your pouty face, still he leaned in to press an apologetic kiss to your cheek.

“Worth it,” he mumbled against your skin, making you shake your head in fake annoyance to hide that beaming smile that wanted to break loose. He was just too sweet for his own good.

“So, where are we going?”

To have a picnic, you assumed, judging from the blanket and basket that were safely stowed away on the back seat.

“You’ll see,” he grinned, obviously enjoying being all mysterious about it. There was a snappy reply already forming on your tongue, but you almost choked on it the moment his large hand found the bare skin of your thigh. He just let it rest there, still it was enough to send a shiver up and down your spine, and for a second you thanked the fates that you had opted for those denim shorts this morning.

It took you a moment to reach the exit of the vast festival grounds, also because he was going unusually slow. It was unmistakable that he was itching to go faster, and as soon as you had left the main road, you were proven right.

“Let’s open that baby up,” he bellowed excitedly, slapping the wheel as he did, while his other hand squeezed the pliable flesh of your thigh. You felt dizzy for a moment, your thoughts spiralling upon his reckless antics, but as soon as his foot pushed down the pedal, they were washed away in an instant. You squealed as the two of you zoomed through the deserted landscape. Who would have known these vehicles could go that fast?

“Mr Hozier-Byrne, you are such a menace,” you hollered, breaking into another squeal as the cart went into a turn at full speed.

“True,” he admitted unashamedly. And as soon as the vehicle was reaching a straight again, he leant in. He took his sweet time to taste the skin of your neck, totally forgetting about the road once his lips had found you. You let him, it would have been a sacrilege to tell him to stop, so instead you reached for the wheel, gently correcting the course while he devoured you. “But I’m your menace,” he continued as soon as his head resurfaced, “So you better deal with it.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that. I certainly will.”

The audacity this man had. After almost crashing the cart because he could not help himself from having a taste of you, he now chose to counter your statement with a wink. “Can’t wait."

When he finally slowed down again, the sound of the festival had faded completely, not even the deep, rolling echo of the bass was following you anymore. There was only a welcome silence, and some happy birds chirping their joyful songs into the blue afternoon sky. He stopped underneath a large tree by a small track that split a flowery meadow in two.

In seconds he had rounded the cart, basket and blanket in one hand, he held out the other to you.

You took it without hesitation, and as always, your fingers immediately entwined with his, woven firmly together, inseparable. And neither of you did let go, not as long you strolled through the meadow anyway, the palm of your free hand floating along the high grass, enjoying the tickling sensation.

After a while you took up camp in the shade of a tree, a blackthorn, you realised, and quietly smiled to yourself. Sated and wanting for nothing but each other’s company, you had leaned your back against the stem. Andy’s head lay safely in your lap. You loved when he did that, entrusting himself to you completely. And you knew he loved it too, to give himself over to you while he let the world be what it was for a moment, eyes closed, hair gliding through your fingers, braiding a few strands, leaving some flowers here and there. He had started to hum a while ago, unconsciously so, you believed. It was one of your favourite sounds in the world, along with his boisterous laughter, and the sweet, mewling sounds he made when you satisfied him.

Another time, you thought, and smiled in anticipation. Not now though. Now was the time to be soft, to shed the hard shell you usually carried. It was the only way you knew to protect yourself from a world you hardly recognised at times. But with him, you did not need to.

Ever since you had met him, Andy had never left any doubt that he loved you, all of you, the strength, the weakness, the anxiety and kindness, your joy and your sadness, every little fragment that made you you. He saw it all, and he loved you despite all that, no, because you were all of that. A love that was reciprocated to the fullest.

#hozier #hozier x you #hozier x reader #request

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jaegersdevil · 11 months

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boyfriend!eren headcanons pt. 2.*･｡ﾟ

part 1 part 3

boyfriend!eren throws everything like a basketball (including but not limited to: trash, clothes, your phone, his phone, snacks (mostly chips), tv remotes, armin’s hamster (it was one time, and cheez-it was fine))

boyfriend!eren who, when it’s his turn to organise dates, will centre them around the thing he is most obsessed with at that moment (e.g. golf. he will follow ONE pga tour and fully believe he has the skills because ‘it can’t be that hard’ (it is). expect dates to top golf, or just an 18-hole golf course (even if you can’t hit a golf ball to save your life). he will think he is scottie scheffler. don’t even speak to me)

boyfriend!eren will stop being a menace when you give him The Look™️

boyfriend!eren then gets teased relentlessly by jean, connie, sasha etc etc., who tell you to ‘keep your dog on a leash' when he’s being particularly annoying

boyfriend!eren is supposed to wear glasses when he drives but absolutely despises it, so he doesn’t (it’s a treat when he does, though ;))

following on, boyfriend!eren hates wearing any type of glasses when he drives, so he puts his sunglasses on you and he loves the way you look in them (even if he has some dad speed sunglasses)

boyfriend!eren loves watching documentaries no matter the topic

boyfriend!eren walks around your apartment in just boxers all year round

boyfriend!eren cooks a mean chicken alfredo (and that’s IT)

boyfriend!eren will just sit on your bedroom floor

boyfriend!eren still counts on his fingers but, despite popular belief, is actually good at maths

boyfriend!eren considers himself a dilf?

boyfriend!eren who, when on picnic dates, tries to cartwheel and fails miserably (0/10 would not recommend, it’s embarrassing for him but mostly you)

boyfriend!eren will wait around restlessly at your apartment when you’re in class like a literal DOG

boyfriend!eren threatens to call the restaurant you just ordered from because they forgot to take out the thing you didn’t want (will still be going on about it even after you’ve finished eating)

boyfriend!eren recognises when you don’t feel the best, even when you try and hide it, and does everything in his power to make you feel better

boyfriend!eren will go through an entire bag of candy to pick out the ones you like, just to put in a separate container for you <3

boyfriend!eren gets irritated by the sound of a vacuum and throws a pillow over his head until you're finished (he is literally a dog wtf come on now)

boyfriend!eren will curl everything in sight to show off his biceps (to you) (e.g. the watermelon in the fridge, your 2L emotional support water bottle, the stack of books you impulse bought at 12am, his 5kg protein powder tub)

boyfriend!eren comes to the store to look at candles while you get actual things because he's very particular about them ever since you were given a caramel one for the holidays, and the smell made him feel sick :(

boyfriend!eren will call you bro/dude/man when he wants to be petty in an argument, but he can also be serious when he needs to be

boyfriend!eren tries to persuade you to let him get a pet rat so he can teach it tricks :/ (spoiler: he was forbidden to get one after the cheez-it incident)

#boyfriend!eren the love of my life #guys the rat one is based on me 💔#eren jaeger #eren yaeger x reader #eren yaeger imagine #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager imagines #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger imagine #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan imagine #— ann writes!

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i99zhuo · 7 months

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Can you make a how to live like song jia for a day ?

How to live like song jia ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ the perfect routine to boost your self-esteem

This is a guide on daily routines inspired by Song Jia! These routines are perfect for people who want to slowly build unbreakable confidence, like freezia!

content list (routines):

morning

study

workout

shower + self care

night

(_ _ ) . . z Z⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨ :★: ୧ ∗ ˖࣪ ໒꒱ ˚₊·

✸ ꒰ morning routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🤍 Jia starts her mornings drinking a cup of water or coffee on an empty stomach, this can help to boost your metabolism and detox your body. I would recommend to drink water rather than coffee, since this could have some negative side effects.

Next step is to say some affirmations in front of the mirror, saying affirmations like 'I look so pretty today' or 'my skin looks so healthy' or simply being kinder to ourselves can ease stress, allow us to face difficulty more courageously, and feel more content and confident!

Now it's time for skincare, Jia emphasizes on having a healthy skincare, for this you will need to create a routine based on your skin type (dry, oily, combination, sensitive, normal or acne prone) and your skin concerns (black heads, bumps, irritation, scars, etc.), please make sure to consult a professional before using anything on your face! Now Jia usually cleanses her face with a foam cleanser and then use toner, a moisturizing ampule, moisturizer and sunscreen! She makes sure to apply the products on her neck too.

After skincare it's time to get dressed, while we wait for the products to absorb! Jia is a really fashionable girl, make sure to have fun with the textures, shapes and color combinations to make the best outfit and boost it using accessories like hats or sunglasses, don't forget to get a matching bag and shoes too!

Time for makeup! Jia's daily makeup consist of BB cream, mascara, eyebrow pencil and lipstick, but if she's shooting something she will add contour, blush, eyeshadow, eyeliner and highlighter to the routine!

✸ ꒰ study routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🎀 When Jia goes to her Chinese classes she pays attention and does activities in her book, she also practices writing random things like her name! She memorizes vocabulary and practice a little with her friends in the same class.

✸ ꒰ workout routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🦢 Jia recommends to work out at least for 20 minutes per day! She usually does simple waist or legs exercises while standing up looking at her phone or watching TV.

Also she goes to Pilates classes so you can try to do a 20 minute Pilates workout video like this one.

✸ ꒰ shower and self care routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🩰 To boost your self-esteem Jia says that we have to at least take 2 days of the week (Saturday and Sunday) on really taking care and spend time with ourselves.

First detangle your hair using a hairbrush, then hop on the shower and use shampoo, conditioner and a hair mask to treat your hair. Then wash your body using a shower gel and a body scrub. Jia uses a soothing gel, thermal water and a body lotion to moisturize her body after shower, she massages the products on her skin to relax her muscles. After 30 minutes, she dries her hair with cold air. After, you can trim your split ends or take care of your nails if necessary.

As a part of self-care, do chores like doing laundry or washing the dishes so you can start relaxing on a tidy place (you can also light an scented candle). Also, Jia takes her vitamins for her hair and overall health.

Now it's time to enjoy our hobbies! Having hobbies help us with both our physical and mental health, plus having our alone time makes us more comfortable with ourselves and help with self -discovery, Jia haves a good set of hobbies that she spends most of her time doing like oil painting, doing DIYs, watching dramas like insider, taking care of her dogs, cooking and baking, playing video games and golf!

✸ ꒰ night routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🌷 Finally, Jia spends her night taking care of her skin! First she washes her hands, the uses a cleansing oil or milk, then she uses makeup remover on her eyes if the cleanser didn't take off her eyeliner for example, then she uses a foam cleanser and toner to finish cleanse her skin. After she uses a hydrating mist and ampule, a dermatologic treatment, sheet mask, lip balm and moisturizer (remember to apply it on the neck too!) after she uses a gua sha to massage her face.

as a part of skincare, make sure to sleep at least 8 hours everyday and drink enough water to wake up with perfect skin!

(_ _ ) . . z Z⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨ :★: ୧ ∗ ˖࣪ ໒꒱ ˚₊·

Heyyy ty for reading!! This is my first request everrrr I'm so excited <3 🥹🥹, sorry for being inactive, school has been killing me but I'm finally on my summer break! Also sorry this took me a lot of time to do >.< i had to do a marathon of Jia's videos to make this

Hehe i think that's all stay tuned ໒꒰ྀི´• ˕ •` ꒱ྀིა

toodlez!!!!!!

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totalswag · 1 year

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little starkey being besties with maddie cline and their always together on set

mini best friend — MADELYN CLINE

authors note thank you anon for this request, i hope you like what i wrote. just the thought of this made me so happy while writing because drew and maddie have such an amazing friendship. this is technically a madelyn cline fic/blurb btw. as for the other requests i have in my inbox, i will get to them as soon as i can. i do have a personal life outside of tumblr, please be patient. feedback is always appreciated.

summary bringing little tatum on set and maddie just can't wait to see her little best friend everytime she comes to visit.

warnings a whole lot of cuteness!!!!!

Outer Banks is filming their new season, Drew had some scenes to film and brought you and nine month old, Tatum, along to keep company and hang out with the other cast members.

"Where is my littlest bestie?" Maddie asked as she entered Drew's trailer, her eyes wide with delight.

"She's right here," you said as you placed Tatum on the carpet so she could crawl over to Maddie, who was squatting down with her arms stretched out.

Tatum recently began to crawl, which indicates that she will start walking shortly. That girl is so fascinated about everything she sees, walking on two feet will be interesting for her.

She smiled and spoke in her baby language as she crept closer to Maddie. Tatum places her left hand on Maddie's knee, signaling her want to be carried up.

"She's getting so big," Maddie says, pouting as she picks up Tatum off the carpet, places her on her hip, and kisses the top of her head.

“I know, it’s sad,” you agreed.

“I just remember when you were a tiny itty baby in my arms and now you are growing up so fast, slow down girl” you can’t help but laugh at Maddie’s comment.

Tatum just giggles.

Tatum's godmother is Maddie. You and Drew made the decision way before Tatum was born since you three have a great relationship and you trust her with your child. Tatum adores Maddie– whenever she comes into the room, Tatum gets all excited and starts talking in her baby language. Their relationship is precious. Everyone adores their relationship.

Maddie was the first one to find out the gender before Drew and you. She hosted the gender reveal party at her home, which was absolutely breathtaking. Maddie bawled her eyes out when she first met Tatum, who was wearing a onesie that stated "I love my godmother."

Tatum will want to stay in Maddie's arms as soon as she is in them whenever you go to the set to see Drew and hang out with the other cast members in general. Maddie doesn't mind being with Tatum the whole time; in fact, she enjoys it. They take videos and pictures together, which are eventually posted to Maddie's Instagram, but only with Drew's and your permission.

No matter where Maddie goes on set, Tatum is always with her. Plus, it’s good bonding time for the two. They’ll take naps together on the couch randomly. You swear they’ve met in another lifetime.

Another time, Maddie had Tatum in her sunglasses while she was strapped in a carrier that wrapped around Maddie as she drove around in a golf cart. This happens quite a lot now as Tatum got older in months.

Fans make edits, post, and talk about how adorable Maddie and Tatum’s relationship is all the time on social media. Whenever fans bring up the two to Drew and you, all you guys can say is they are made for each other and there’s no stopping in separating them.

Now, the rest of the cast get their time with the little Starkey. They enjoy spending their free time with her every second they get. They are her second family and she will eventually know that as she continues to grow up.

Drew and you always talk about how their own daughter loves her godmother more than her own parents as a joke but you know she loves you both. There’s going to be plenty of more times of Tatum and Maddie being together on set.

my taglist 🧚🏼‍♀️

@runningfrom2am @winterrrnight@brooklynscherry-z @kaydsr3venge @ikisscline

if your username is has a line through, that means your user didn't pop up.

if you would like to be added to my taglist please let me know :)

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rudyprojectau1 · 10 months

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#golf sunglasses #best golf sunglasses #golf glasses

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dawn-moths · 2 months

Text

"40 — Love"

Nanami Kento x Female Reader

word count: 3,700+

(After watching Nanami and Gojo’s tennis matches for so long, you decide you want to try your hand at the game. Luckily, you just so happen to have access to the perfect teacher.)

disclaimer/content warning: nothing explicit but still some suggestive content, minors please dni! set in my i’ll be your angel au (sugar daddy nanami), use of the word “daddy”, reader is called “angel, baby, sweetheart, princess”, size difference, jealous gojo satoru.

*ao3 mirror*

♡♡♡

The early summer’s evening sun beat down against the tennis court, the first gentle shades of what would eventually morph into a blazing sunset blanketing over you from where you lounged beneath the partial shade of an umbrella, the diamonds studding your ears and wrapped around your wrist winking in the soft amber light. Every movement you made caught Nanami’s eye, little glittering flashes of the newest jewels he’d gifted you distracting him like a magpie eagerly searching for a fresh sparkling trinket.

But he kept forcing himself to avert his gaze, umber eyes hidden beneath the lenses of his sunglasses as he trained his stare on his opponent. Gojo Satoru, on the other hand, was somewhat reveling in Nanami’s distraction. Perhaps now he might actually stand a chance at scoring a point against the blonde.

Satoru figured it would be hard for him to take his own eyes off of you, if you’d been visible from his side of the court. But, as was Nanami’s preference, Gojo’s back was facing you, though that still didn’t do much to stop him from trying to show off. If anything, it only encouraged him. Just a single glimpse of you in your sporty little baby blue skirt and crop top, the clothing hugging your sunkissed curves so deliciously it nearly had Satoru salivating despite the dryness his mouth had earned from all the recent exertion, it was enough to inspire him to give it his all on the court today, that was for certain.

Not that he ever took it easy when competing against Nanami, whether you were present or not.

And while Gojo excelled at plenty of other skills, Nanami Kento was a force to be reckoned with when there was a racket in his hands.

As Nanami sent the ball zooming past Satoru once again, earning himself another point (they weren’t keeping score, Nanami had said, just practicing, letting off some steam at the end of a long and busy day, but you’d secretly been keeping track the entire time, and so far, your Daddy was undeniably undefeated) you let out a cheer.

Nanami flicked his gaze over to you and gave a confident smirk and a thumbs up. No wonder he always won. He had the best good luck charm any man could ask for. And if Gojo thought blue was his color, today, it seemed, the shade belonged to Nanami through and through. He swept his gaze along your form, tracing from the big velvet scrunchie secured around your high ponytail all the way down to your pristine white sneakers.

He knew your favorite thing about joining your Daddy on his athletic activities was, of course, the cute outfits you got to model for him. And his favorite part, other than getting the chance to admire his favorite little cheerleader in between matches, was the fact that he’d get to take each and every article of clothing off of you later that night.

In the past, you’d participated alongside Nanami in some of his favorite physical hobbies— like golf or swimming or, like today, tennis— trying so hard to keep up with his speed and his strength and his skill. And weren’t you just so precious, thinking you could even come close to matching him? Because you couldn’t compete with him even if you wanted to. No one— not even Satoru— was a match for Nanami’s powerful tennis stroke.

You’d spent several afternoons as of late serving as a spectator, watching them play while you sat under your private little veil of shade and sipped pink lemonade, idly attempting to read through a book. But the thing about Nanami and Satoru’s tennis matches was, once the grunting and the sweat and the competition really began, you couldn’t focus on anything else. Couldn’t take your eyes off them, cold drink and paperback fiction all but forgotten as you sat up in your lounge chair, practically on the edge of your seat, leaning in as you peered over the delicate frames of your heart shaped sunglasses to watch them racing across the green top.

“Nice one!” Gojo called across to his casual-partner-turned-brutal-opponent as Nanami sent the ball back over the net in a clean, controlled arc. “But don’t forget this is—” His sentence was cut off with a growl as he hit the ball back with enough force to emit an audible crack echoing across the gardens. “A competition!”

Nanami leapt to hit the ball back in time, your breath catching when you feared he might actually miss. But at the last second, almost too fast for your eyes to keep track of, his racket sent it rushing back towards the man opposite him. Gojo dove for the ball but missed it by just a hair, the little blur of lime green slamming into the chain link fence with a shuddering rattle.

“Don’t get cocky now, Satoru!” Nanami teased, finally able to take a moment to catch his breath as Gojo went to retrieve the ball, raking a hand through tousled, sweat-streaked blonde strands. His lips cracked into an arrogant smirk, clearly not intent on taking his own advice. “Besides,” he added, lowering his voice a bit as he cast a glance your way. “You really think I’ll lose while she’s watching?”

Gojo peered over his shoulder, snowy locks damp and sticking to his temples and the back of his neck, a water bottle gripped in one hand while he used his other to fan his body with his black t-shirt. He couldn’t help but grin then too. Maybe if he had a good luck charm as perfect and pretty as you, he might actually manage to beat Nanami just once.

“Y’know, we might need to make a new rule,” Gojo suggested as he turned back to face Nanami, taking a few quick gulps of the flavored electrolytes. When he was done, he let out a satisfied sigh and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Then, lazily gesturing his tennis racket towards Nanami, he continued, “I could consider you bringing along your little cheerleader as cheating. Let’s see how you’d do without her around, shall we?”

Nanami’s gaze darkened at the prospect of the challenge, but ultimately his smile held steady. “How could I?” he replied, gently jovial. His full attention was on you now, and you resisted the urge to get up and saunter over to him upon his beckoning stare. “Besides, I promised I’d give her a lesson or two after we were done.”

“That mean we’re calling this match?” asked Satoru with a slightly defeated scoff.

Nanami could tell how eager you were to come over, so as he said, “Yeah. Better luck next time, I guess,” he gave you a beckoning wave.

You sprung up from your seat, trotting over across the court with a beaming smile, wearing a brightness to rival the season’s sunny weather. “Is your game over, Daddy?” you asked with that adorable sweetness lacing your tone, all watermelon-sugar and honey drizzled peaches.

What Gojo wouldn’t give to have a girl like you to call his own.

The moment you were within reach, Nanami was pulling you protectively against his side, one of his strong arms cradling your shoulders as you nuzzled further into his loving touch. “I’d say it is, princess,” he cooed, melting in your presence like a popsicle left out in the sun. Then he cast a somewhat taunting glance over at Satoru and added, “I mean, unless Gojo is intent on losing again today?”

Gojo flashed a mean, sharp smile, all pearly white teeth and malice, and then coughed out a huff of a chuckle, something cold and vengeful shining in those elysian blues. “Mark my words, Kento,” he taunted, “one of these days, I’m gonna annihilate you, and when I do…” His gaze then shifted to you, scanning up and down your form, trying hard not to let it stick on the soft flesh of your exposed thighs, the dip of your waist and the little sliver of your tummy that showed in the space between your skirt’s waistband and the hem of your top, the curve of your breasts and the bit of cleavage that peeked out from the V-neck. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, pink and wanting, right before he concluded with, “Good luck charm or not, she won’t be able to save you.”

You felt a little tense then, the energy suddenly seeming to shift as Gojo wore an expression that you swore was hungry. And, god, how tempted he was to make a bet with Nanami, wager a night with you— hell, even just ten minutes— as the prize for one of their weekly matches. And Nanami, being confident in his own ability, relying a little too heavily on his unbroken winning streak, might just be in a playful or arrogant enough mood to entertain Gojo’s little whims.

“Sure,” he’d reply, sarcastic and cocky. “If you can beat me, I’ll even let you have her in my bed.”

And that…

That would be just enough of a stake to seal the deal. To cause Gojo Satoru to become even more relentless than he normally was on the court against his oldest friend.

That would be the time Gojo finally won.

And he’d relish in making Nanami eat his overconfident words just before he’d drown in the pleasure of finally being able to have a taste of you— the one thing in the world he couldn’t buy for himself no matter how many figures his bank account secured.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you for the rematch next week,” Gojo shrugged, his predatory gaze morphing back into something light and unbothered, a look belonging to the Gojo you were more used to. After gathering his things, he gave you a playful little wave goodbye and said, “Don’t go easy on him now!” Nanami offered to walk Satoru out, but Gojo waved him off, saying, “I know my way out. Now teach her well so someday I can drag Megumi or Yuji or Nobara along and we can play doubles.” With a cheeky wink and a self-assured stride, Gojo Satoru was gone, disappearing beyond the manicured lawns and hedges and heading back to where his black Rolls Royce Phantom awaited him in the long, curving driveway.

“Can’t you let him win just once, Daddy?” you asked, some sympathy for Satoru’s defeat bleeding into your whine. “I’ll still think you’re the best at tennis even if he occasionally beats you…”

Nanami hummed out a note of amusement, beginning to guide you off to the side of the court where the extra rackets and tennis balls were kept. “And if I let him win, do you really think he’d be satisfied, sweetheart?” he asked you, pure adoration peppered with condescension lilting in his low, soothing voice. “Do you really think he’d accept a victory that he didn’t earn?”

No, you thought to yourself, Satoru would never claim a victory that he hadn’t earned fair and square. Because as carefree and frivolous as the man could be, he was equally cruel and competitive. He was good enough to outmatch anyone in almost anything, tennis included, just so long as that person wasn’t Nanami Kento. And though the two men were more evenly matched in their golf and swimming skills, it was, of course, the one game that Gojo had yet to best Nanami in that he was so hung up on.

“I guess you’re right,” you agreed with a shrug. As Nanami reached over to hand you your tennis racket— the light pink one he’d had custom made for you the moment you’d shown interest in learning— you took on a slightly more nervous tone and asked, words trembling a little towards the end, “But you’ll go easy on me, right?”

There was no way you’d survive a single one of Nanami’s vicious serves unless he dialed it way back. And he knew this just as well as you did. Not to mention he’d sort of been hoping you’d take interest in one of his hobbies eventually. That way, it would give him the perfect opportunity to spend more time with you, to leave work a little early or reschedule a boring meeting because it was almost time for his precious baby’s tennis lesson, and he just couldn’t be late. It also would be the perfect opportunity to put his hands all over you as he showed you the correct way to hold a racket or take a swing, his palms planted firmly on your hips as he helped correct your form, distracting you in the process of course, though once your lesson was over and he’d praised you for a job well done, the two of you fully intended on revisiting those more intimate parts of the lesson later in the bedroom.

“Of course, angel,” Nanami chuckled, grabbing up two extra water bottles from the mini fridge. “Don’t worry, you’ll be just fine. Besides, don’t I always take good care of my favorite girl?”

Especially because he wouldn’t want you to get frustrated and decide to quit. Oh no, he couldn’t have that. And while Gojo’s comment about playing doubles was probably a pipe dream, Nanami couldn’t help but fantasize about spending cool summer evenings out on the private home court with you once you’d gotten the hang of things, just gently hitting the ball back and forth with the sound of your bright laughter echoing over the net every time you successfully returned the ball to him.

But first thing was first. He had to teach you how to serve. So with your back against his chest and his hands taking purchase over where you held the racket, gently correcting your grip position at the start, Nanami led you through the basics of the swing.

“That’s it,” he encouraged you, allowing you to try a few times on your own. He grinned, impressed. “See, you’re a natural.”

You let out a proud giggle, wondering if maybe you’d end up having a knack for this after all, unlike golf, which was very technical, and swimming, which was very exhausting. Though, you’d always been one to get a little ahead of yourself. Because the ball hadn’t even been introduced into the equation yet.

In other words, the real test had yet to begin.

With Nanami now standing at the other end of the court, one of the fuzzy green tennis balls clutched in your manicured hand, you weren’t feeling quite as confident. You’d liked it better when he was guiding you, felt more capable with his expertise close and at the ready. Now, you feared you’d just forgotten nearly everything he’d taught you, your mind racing with questions of how to hold the racket properly and where to aim and, well, honestly you weren’t even sure if you’d be able to hit the ball successfully after tossing it up into the air.

“Whenever you’re ready, baby!” Nanami called over to you, and it was then that you steeled your resolve and reminded yourself that you could do this. You wanted to make your Daddy proud, wanted to hear him praise you when you did it right. You wanted to prove what a good student you could be for your teacher.

“Ok!” you called back, preparing to toss the ball up into the air. You didn’t throw it too high, though imagined how fun it would be to one day toss it as far above your head as you could, watching it plummet back down towards you with the confidence that you’d still be able to hit it across the net.

And even though your aim was a little off-center, you were still able to swing hard enough to send the ball over to Nanami, who lightly tapped it back to you, letting it bounce on the green once before you lunged forward to hit it back. You felt the ball make contact with your racket, and next thing you knew it was soaring over the net once more.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, your look of concentration splitting into an astonished grin. “I did it! I actually did it!”

Nanami returned the ball to you in the same gentle fashion, urging you to continue with the streak you two had going now. “See!” he said. “I knew you could!

But it then seemed your newfound confidence got the better of you because, though you leapt for the ball with everything you had, that time it was just too far out of your range. It passed you on the court and rolled until it hit the chain link fence.

“Ah, man!” you said, jogging to go after it, though you sounded more amused than disappointed.

“That’s alright!” Nanami called, casually walking closer towards the net so he wouldn’t have to shout as loud. “Just bring it here and we’ll try again.”

You grabbed the ball and tossed it towards him, Nanami reaching out to catch it in one of his sure, strong hands. “Do you want to try serving again?” he asked. “Or do you want me to serve?”

You took a moment to think about it, then smiled and replied, “I want you to serve now.”

Nanami returned a soft grin. “Alright, princess,” he said, both of you beginning to make your way back to your preferred places on your respective sides of the court.

“Don’t forget to go easy!” you called over, a playful giggle trailing off the end of your reminder.

“I dunno…” Nanami teased, a hint of mischief present in his voice. “I think you might be ready for a little more of a challenge.”

But, in the end, he was still nice about it. The serve came towards you in a controlled, soft arc, though when you returned it that time it was with a little more fervor, the power behind your stroke increasing just enough to wake Nanami up from his gentle daydreams, the lull provided by the balmy, early summer evening breaking upon the next cool breeze that wafted through the gardens.

The two of you practiced hitting the ball back and forth for another hour or so until you grew tired, your perfect white sneakers beginning to scuff and drag a little across the court, your swing becoming a little sloppier as fatigue caused your concentration to slip. But you didn’t want to call it a day until you’d managed to make Nanami miss the ball just once.

Similar to Gojo, it seemed you had some unrealistic fantasies of your own.

So, after asking you a few times if you wanted to be done for the day and you saying one more round despite how exhausted you clearly were, Nanami drew this conclusion and decided that, if he was going to let anyone beat him, it was going to be you.

“Why don’t you serve this time?” he suggested, sending the ball back your way. You let it roll off to the side a bit before going to retrieve it, and then, hoping he maybe wouldn’t catch onto your plan until it was too late, you tossed the ball up into the air, careful and soft like you’d been doing thus far but, that time, when you swung, you hit it as hard as your arms could muster, letting out your first real tennis grunt from the unexpected exertion.

And while the strength behind the swing was still nothing in comparison to either Nanami or Gojo’s, it still caught Nanami by surprise, caused him to hesitate just a split second too long. He went to lunge after the ball, originally intending to miss it on purpose, but when he found himself instinctually trying to hit it back only to miss it by accident…

Gojo would never believe it.

He looked behind him as it bounced out of bounds and rolled to meet the fence, and though technically the victory wouldn’t have counted in a real match, he certainly wasn’t going to tell you that. Not with the way you were jumping with joy on the other side of the net, squealing and giggling as you came running his way as if you’d just summoned magic for the first time.

“Did you see that?!” you asked, nearly crashing into his arms as you met him on his side of the court, your pretty pink tennis racket forgotten on the side you’d scored your first point against him from, the sorbet glow of the setting sun staining everything in sight with rich golds and brilliant tangerine oranges. “I can’t believe I actually did that! Did you see? Did you see?!”

Nanami dropped his racket and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in for a hug and sweeping you off your feet a bit as he spun around with you in his arms. “I saw it, baby,” he assured you, placing a kiss to the crown of your head. “You were great.”

And when you looked up at him, arms still secured around his waist, wearing that look that was just dripping with pure love and devotion, eyes practically sparkling with it, Nanami had half a mind to lower you both to the court and celebrate your first successful tennis lesson a little early.

“I couldn’t have done it without such an amazing teacher,” you told him, nuzzling your cheek against his chest, both of you warm and dewy with a thin sheen of sweat. “But I had a lot of fun! Can we practice again tomorrow?”

Nanami let out a chuckle, the richness of it rumbling through his chest, velvety and sonorous. He swept you up in his arms, intending to carry you all the way back to the house, all the way up to the master bedroom. He said, “Of course, sweetheart. But first, a victory dinner is in order, don’t you think?”

You hummed out a pleasant note, that beaming smile of yours not faltering, though now something a little more devious snaked its way into your narrowing gaze. “Can the victory dinner involve going out for ice cream after?” you asked.

Nanami let out a sigh, though couldn’t wipe the grin off his face even as he shook his head a little and reluctantly replied, “Alright, I suppose you’ve earned it.”

But after that, once your sweet tooth had been satisfied and the exhaustion from the day crept back in to claim you, Nanami would be sure to collect his own prize. And once he was done with you tonight, well…

You might want to take a break from practicing tomorrow after all.

♡♡♡

(Hiiii everyone and thank you so much for reading! Honestly I’ve been thinking about my sd!Nanami from this au for so long now I just had to write a lil something for him and this is just what came to mind! I also can’t wait for summer, so I’m spending most days just dreaming about that lol. Anyway, I hope you’re all doing wonderful and remembering to take care of yourselves! See you next time, byyyyye~!)

#nanami kento #nanami kento jjk #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #jjk fanfic #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n

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familyvideostevie · 1 year

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a warm horizon

this was the second most voted from this poll, hope you enjoy! springtime with steve | fem!reader, 1k

"I'm telling you, it swelled up to the size of a...a...golf ball. No, a baseball. Right on my wrist, which made it impossible to actually play baseball for like, two weeks. " Steve's hands gesticulate wildly as he pantomimes something much larger than a baseball appearing at the base of his thumb. You look down at where his head rests in your lap and she that his eyebrows are furrowed in genuine angst. "And it hurt. So, yeah, excuse me if I swat at a bee when I see one."

"Swatting at them just makes them mad," you tell him, leaning back on your hands and casting your gaze to the blue sky. You should have brought your sunglasses. Silly boy, you think. Afraid of bees, of all things.

"Swatting at them gets them away from me for long enough to run back to the safety of my car."

The spring breeze blows through the now-green grass of the hill and catches one of the edges of your blanket, flipping it over. You can't bring yourself to move to fix it. "And you'll abandon me?"

"Sorry, babe," Steve says. You look down again to find him grinning at you. His eyes sparkle in the sunshine."They don't come after you like they do me. I'm like honey, or something."

You flick his nose and he swats at you as if you're the offending insect."No idea why, since I'm much sweeter than you."

Steve pouts and you laugh. "Brutal. You're hanging out with Dustin too much."

You lower yourself to your elbows and then your back so that you're just as sprawled on the blanket as he is. "S'what you get for abandoning me to nature, Steve." Huge, fluffy clouds amble across the sky above you. Everything seems more beautiful, more alive during the first few weeks of spring. Everyone laughs a little louder and walks around with a spring in their step.

"I wouldn't actually abandon you," Steve says. "You might have to defend me, though. I'm serious, I think I'm allergic or something."

"I can do that," you say. "I'll protect you from the big, bad bees." Steve snorts.

"Alright, alright, I get it. They're just bugs." You reach down blindly to slide your hand into his hair as a somewhat sincere apology for making fun of him. He does handle pretty much every other critter fairly well -- he is a little freaked out by butterflies but lets you stop him when you see one on your walks. He catches fireflies with the kids and even takes spiders outside if you ask him to. But your handsome, brave, incredible boyfriend isn't at his best this time of year.

"How's your hay fever?" you ask, eyes closing to enjoy the sunshine. On cue, he sniffs.

"Fine. The new pill I got at the pharmacy last week doesn't make me sleepy, which is nice." But then he sneezes. "Shit." He sneezes again.

"I have tissues in my bag." The weight of his head disappears from your lap and you hear him rummage through your things. He'll be fine in a few weeks when everything stops blooming but until then you try to carry around anything he might need.

"Don't open your eyes," he says. "This is gross." It sounds more like "gwoss" as he blows his nose.

"Oh, you think I don't find my snotty boyfriend cute?" Steve ignores you and settles back on top of you, his head higher up on your stomach this time. He likes to feel you breathe.

"Spring is bullshit," he says without any real venom.

"It's not all bad," you chastise him. "The sun is nice. Your hair will get lighter if we spend enough time out here."

He hums. "Well, I do get to see more of your legs." You feel his hand squeeze your thigh.

"Steve!" He's impossible. You tilt your chin so you can see him only to find him grinning up at you just like before, only now his nostrils are a little red. He is still so handsome it makes your chest ache. "You know very well you get to see them whenever you want."

"Don't I know it." You look away but feel his eyes on you still.

"What?"

"You're extra pretty in the spring," he says. "Just...happier. Lighter." Your face feels hot. It's disarming, sometimes, the way that Steve talks about you. Not only to you with compliments, but to other people. He tells old ladies in the grocery store about promotions you get at work and loudly sings your praises in rooms full of people. You took him shopping last week and when you came out of the dressing room in a new pair of jeans he asked the sales girl how she felt to have the prettiest girl in the world in her store.

He's embarrassing and you love him so much.

"You're extra pretty in the spring," you fire back. He reaches for your hand.

You squeeze and he squeezes back. "I guess we're the greatest looking couple alive."

"Guess so." You wonder if you could fall asleep out here.

"What do you want to do for the rest of the day?"

"We're on pickup duty at 4," you remind him. "But I'm happy to stay here for a little while longer." From your spot on the hill, it's easy to imagine that the rest of the world doesn't exist. It's just you and the boy you love on this blanket, enjoying each other's company and the warmth of the sun after a long winter. There are things you have to do, of course, and other people you love who you want to see. But it's nice to pretend, even for just a little bit.

"Me too," Steve says softly.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things x reader

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percervall · 6 months

Text

Mamma mia, here I go again {pt7}

Summary: A summer of poor decisions leads you to having to face the consequences of your actions —and the men involved. Pairing: Kevin Magnussen x fem!reader, Lewis Hamilton x fem!reader, Mark Webber x fem!reader Warnings: heart break Word count: 1022 Taglist: @ashy-kit @averagef1fansblog @barcelonaloverf1life @bradfordbantams @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @exotic-iris13 @goldsainz @iloveneteyam @jaypreshpresh @laura-naruto-fan1998 @monzamash @norrisleclercf1 @opheliaas-stuff @roseseraj @szobosz @topguncultleader @vellicora @ystrolllll

Part 7 of the Mamma Mia series

They really weren’t kidding when they said ‘let us woo you’. The next two weeks fly by in a blur of data streams, flights and more dates, each getting more elaborate as time goes on. Mark takes you out for crazy golf while in Singapore, a suggestion by Oscar and undoubtedly Lando, although you wonder whether they suggested the murder mystery themed one. Lewis spoils you with a hot air balloon ride to watch the sunrise when you’re in Suzuka, the sight leaving you breathless, and Kevin treats you to a picnic after a bike ride through the park. You love seeing their own personalities reflected in the activities they plan for you, but also in the way they show their affection for you: Mark takes care of you, driving you to and from the paddock, making sure you eat by bringing you lunch. Kevin and you managed to keep your promise to spend more time together; he will often just come hang out at the Mercedes hospitality and chat with the mechanics or with Mick while you get some last minute bits of work done. It’s nice to have him beside you, to have the weight of his hand on your thigh every so often just to let you know he is still there. And then there’s Lewis who is so observant and spoils you in different ways. You mention once how your sunglasses broke and the next thing you know a new pair sits atop your desk. He even gifted you monogrammed loungewear embroidered in his colours after he overheard you talking about how your travel clothes are just no longer comfortable. It’s a clear display of his wealth and not something you’re used to, but seeing him smile as you use his gifts has your heart skipping a beat. It quite literally feels as if you’re in a romance novel, but while those usually end in a happy ending, you’re having a hard time believing that that could be you. Because romance novels and relationships are usually between two people and not four. Because no matter how hard you try not to, you’re falling in love in a way that terrifies you. It breaks your heart to know you are once again hurting them, but what other options do you have? There is no way that this, that a relationship can work because that would mean having to choose and you can’t. You cannot choose between them nor can you allow yourself to live in the delusion that there is a possibility that you don’t have to. It’s impossible, the choice feels impossible, so you make the only one you can; you’d rather live with the heartbreak and the knowledge that you hurt them, than choose between Kevin, Lewis, and Mark. And so you do what you have always done: you very slowly begin to withdraw yourself, rebuilding the wall the three of them had painstakingly brought down over the past four weeks.

It all comes to a head after the race that Sunday in Japan. Your emotions are all over the place, flitting between happiness and pride at Mercedes’ performance and bagging some much needed points to hopefully be able to secure that second place in the constructor’s championship, and absolute dread at having to have this conversation with them. And so you find yourself outside the Mercedes motorhome, the three men sat in front of you.

“Now that the month is almost over I thought it best to have this conversation now,” you begin, looking down at your mug. Your stomach is in knots and for once it’s not the morning sickness that’s making you nauseous.

“I’m really sorry but I can’t do this. I- I don’t have feelings for you. For any of you. I’m sorry for stringing you along and getting your hopes up, I really am,” you continue, voice barely louder than a whisper. The silence that follows is deafening. You don’t dare to look up because you know once you see the look on their faces your resolve will crumble like a house of cards.

“Bullshit,” Kevin says, his frustrations clear in his voice. Your heart breaks at the ice in his tone, but keep your eyes on your mug while holding back tears.

“Kev-..” Mark tries to placate him, but to no avail.

“No, don’t you Kevin me. This is her M.O. God, you can’t even look at us while you tell us you feel nothing for any of us.”

“We did tell her it would be up to her,” Lewis adds.You look up at both him and Kevin through your eyelashes, watching them share a look you can’t decipher. You watch Kevin’s shoulders slump before looking back at you. Quickly you avert your eyes, trying to keep your face neutral.

“Fine,” Kevin sighs, the dejection and resignation in his voice cut deeper than any knife possibly ever could, “forget it. See you around the paddock I guess.” And with that the Danish driver leaves.

“I’m really sorry,” you whisper, throat thick with tears.

“So am I, sweetheart,” Mark says, pressing a kiss against your temple before getting up as well. Lewis gives your hand a squeeze before following the Australian into the paddock for the final round of interviews, leaving you behind with the remnants of your shattered heart.

You somehow manage to hold it together until you’re back in your hotel room, catching a ride with another colleague to avoid having to see Mark again. Throwing your bag on a chair, you make a beeline for the ensuite, turning on the shower while silent tears roll down your cheeks. Stripping out of your team gear, you step under the hot water, wrapping your arms around your chest as sobs wreck through you, afraid that you might fall apart even further if you don’t hold onto yourself. You know that this hell is your own doing but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less, doesn’t make the pain any less. Little do you know, the heartache that is already all consuming is about to become so, so much worse.

Maybe the secret fourth option was choose pain? I can already hear someone throw her phone against the wall. Love you @szobosz

Again, the biggest thank you to @curiousthyme for being my beta reader, love you so much ives

Please let me know what you think! Your comments, tags and likes mean the absolute world to me 💜

#f1 fanfic #kevin magnussen x reader #kevind magnussen x you #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #mark webber x reader #mark webber x you #mamma mia fic

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webslingingslasher · 1 year

Text

Candygrams

i'm writing other things but, c'mon now, it's valentines.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Genre: fluffy

Word Count: 1.4K

Summary: you send a valentine to peter and hopes he shows up.

Matt broke up with Cynthia and it was rattling the walls of Midtown High.

Especially because it was valentines day, couples can break up any day but one would assume, birthdays, anniversaries and major holidays would be safe, no one breaks up on those days.

Except for Matt.

Cynthia is letting the holiday play into her will. Wails coated the school, people pressured to not show love to their honey, people scared their honey will do the same. She was ripping apart flowers Matt had given her before he dumped her, a pretty brutal move on his end.

You watched with wide eyes, mostly everyone peering over at the girl on the outskirts of campus absolutely losing it. Looking back and forth between the line and the girl you looked to the side of you at MJ, “How long until the resource guards come?”

Cops. They were cops with a safer sounding name, but they were still cops that would detain, handcuff and transport her to somewhere under lock and key.

“She’s absolutely batshit right now.” MJ peered at her through her sunglasses, you snorted and took a step forward. You start to peer at the menu, deciphering which flower seemed best. You heard a scream, “Matt! Don’t do this, don’t let them do this!”

Cynthia was in a full sprint, looping in circles. Yelling out pleas to her ex while he hid his face and let out an “Oh my fucking god,” as she was trying to dodge a cop on foot and a cop in a golf cart. You’ve never seen a more interesting show on valentines, when Cynthia comes back to earth she can never show her face again. You could never live through this humiliation.

“Hi Y/N! Hi MJ!” Betty gave an over exaggerated wave, her eyes hidden by red tinted heart sunglasses. Her earrings were dangled hearts and she wore a cupid’s arrow pin on her shirt. She looked her part, you always commend her full commitment.

“Hey Bets! You look awesome, the booth looks even better!” MJ nods at your words, “You make valentines look classy.”

“Aw guys! I love you both, cause today is love day!”

MJ grimaced, she preferred to pretend she wasn’t doing this because she had a crush, but because she could.

You smiled, glad to finally have a reason to spoil your person.

Betty clapped her hands and got her pen ready.

“Okay! Y/N, which flowers are you going with?”

You point, “Secret admirer, crush and I love you.” Betty squeals and begins to cluster the flowers, different colors, each with a tag to explain what they meant to the receiver. “Would you like to write a note to send with it?” You did, and then sat for a minute trying to think of what to say.

You settled, “If I am who you think I am, I’ll be waiting.”

Ominus, you know. But it made sense, he would get it. Or at least you hoped he would. He should.

“And where is this going, and who to?”

Betty and MJ grinned at you, anxious to hear what they already knew.

“Peter B. Parker, homeroom one oh three.”

MJ clapped you on the shoulder, “That’s my girl. I want the yellow one, Bets. It’s for Brad.”

You held in a laugh, you know MJ and that she’s participating means she’s smitten. However the flower she’s chosen has quite an adorable title, “I notice you,” which could be a little crush or an “hey, you’re not invisible.”

Betty’s smile falters. “You sure that’s the one? If you want I can throw in a crush for you, on me?” MJ shakes her head, “No, I think just the yellow is fine.”

You hear an oof, you look to the left and see Cynthia laid out. Two cops laid on top of her, screams never failing. You follow your eyes to Peter who’s watching with his fist to his mouth with Ned, he takes a sharp inhale as the bigger cop elbows her.

He looks over and waves, you give him one back before throwing a bill at Betty and jogging to catch up.

Peter’s eyebrows raise, “Candygrams?”

“I did fall for the capitalist scheme.”

Peter laughs, “I’m better than buying into all the valentines crap.” You frown slightly, sure it’s mostly junk but sometimes the meaning behind the gift has more value.

“Because, I did my own.” He pauses to lower his backpack, Ned keeps walking. Peter unzips and digs for a moment, then pulls out a card. You can’t help the growing smile stretching across your face, “You didn’t have to.”

He shrugs, “I wanted to.”

You peel the page open.

“Happy Valentine's Day, Y/N. I’m glad to have you in my life and I’m glad you make me feel like I have to write you a Valentine’s day card. It’s a feeling I haven’t had before, I’d been waiting on it for a while. Love, Peter.”

A pout takes over your lip, Peter rolls his eyes. He’s glad you like it, but he’s pretending like he doesn’t care if you like it.

“Peter!” You reach for a hug, he complies. You talk in his ear, he holds tighter. “Thank you, Peter. I love it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Make sure you frame it. It took me all night thinking of what to say.” He sounds joking but he’s serious.

You are too. “Seriously, Peter. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

But he does know, it’s that same feeling he gets at homeroom.

He’s never had a valentine, or given one so this is pretty special for him. Peter nearly slaps himself when his name is announced for a valentine, his name was called clearly. “Peter B. Parker?” Yup, that’s him alright.

He raises his hand shyly, half convinced it’s a prank. But it’s real, three flowers are dropped on his desk, a red, pink and white one. Each had a special meaning, he had to stop himself from taking a whiff right then.

Then remembered it came with a note, his hands nearly shook when he opened it.

“If I am who you think I am, I’ll be waiting.”

He doesn’t know who he thinks you are, but he knows who he hopes you are.

So, he waits.

He waits like he hopes you are, he’ll only be a few more minutes.

You’ve talked about it before. The butterfly museum.

How bad you’ve always wanted to go on a date there, how cute it sounded. You’d tell him, “to get butterflies with butterflies is the kind of on the nose I’m into.” He hummed and agreed it would be cute, because it would. You would just be so happy to be there, and he’d move heaven and earth to see you happy.

He assumes you’re there.

He hopes you’re there.

Peter holds his breath when he opens the enclosure. A burst of air shoots him, then he’s surrounded. Colorful wings decorated the plants and ceiling, he’s never seen anything so beautiful. He understands why you’ve talked about it so much, how beautiful it was.

Nearly forgetting why he’s there he tightens the hold on the flowers behind his back, the ones you’ve gifted him. Peter looks in awe and follows some butterflies as they float in front of him, he’s feeling nearly defeated.

Maybe he has the wrong person, he assumed it was you. But he’s looked all around and couldn’t find you, he had hoped he was right. He wanted it to be you.

He was ready to turn away, until he heard you laugh. His heart is soaring, he looks around then sees behind a bush you stand with a butterfly in your arm. You hold it in front of you and whisper, Peter can’t help the love that tugs at him.

How delicate and gentle you are.

He clears his throat and walks to you, he moves in right behind you. His voice is low in your ear, you jump slightly and turn. In his hand are three flowers. He stretches them out to you.

“Tag. You’re it.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker blurb #peter parker fluff #peter parker fic #my writing

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didhewinkback · 1 year

Text

Anonymous asked: Imagine somethingoldrry playing golf🤭

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The smile hadn’t left his face since he stepped off the green. There was nothing quite like a good day hitting the links, especially one with this gorgeous view, the fresh Scotland air making him feel rejuvenated, human, alive. Feeling like he could take on the whole world. Feeling like he kinda already did.

He sinks back into the leather chair in the clubhouse suite, barely listening as your dad and the other gents compare the best shots of the day, his mind drifting back to the conversation he had a few hours earlier.

He had been absolutely bricking it, trying his best to play it cool, though he already knew what your dad would say - he’d already spoken to your mum - but he wanted to get it right. Wanted to be absolutely clear in how much you meant to him, how much he wanted to take care of you for the rest of your life, how you were the greatest thing to ever, ever happen to him.

His hands were shaking as he pulled your dad aside just before the 5th hole, when everyone was stretching their legs and strategizing their next moves. He cleared his throat a few times, sliding his sunglasses into his hair and adjusting his gloves as your dad watched in patient silence, a small, knowing smile on his face.

“Haven’t seen you this nervous since you broke my mother’s vase when you were nine.” Ian jokes and it forces a choked laugh out of Harry as he shakes his head, finally feeling brave enough to look him in the eye.

“‘S more important than a vase.” he says, watching as Ian’s face softens, his eyes twinkling. Harry steels himself, inhaling deeply before launching into it.

“She’s the love of my life, you know. Always has been, in ways maybe I wasn’t ready to face when I was younger but now… I’ve never been more sure of anything. These past three years with her have been the greatest of my life ‘nd I know I’ve been a bloody idiot in the past but it’s not - I’m not -”

“I know,” Ian says gently.

“Want to spend the rest of my life with her. ‘Nd I promise I’ll take care of her ‘nd I know she’ll take care of me. Nothing - nothing in my life compares to how it feels to be in her orbit ‘nd to have her love me the way she does. She makes me a better man every single day ‘nd I’ve never been more grateful or thankful for anything than I am to get to be hers. I know she’d have my bloody head if I ask for your permission like she’s some prized cow -” he says and Ian huffs out a watery laugh, nodding his head in agreement as tears well up in his eyes. “But I’d like your blessing. To marry your daughter. ‘S all I’ve - I’ve never wanted anything more.”

He watches with bated breath as emotion passes over Ian’s face before he smiles a wide, watery grin as the tears slide down his face.

“Of course you’ve got my blessing, H. Nothing would make me happier.”

“Yeah?” Harry says, the nerves from before completely dissipating, giving way to overwhelming gratitude, relief, love.

“It’d be one of the greatest joys of my life to get to welcome you into the family officially.” he says, voice cracking with emotion as he takes a deep breath. “Always considered you a second son anyhow.”

That stops Harry in his tracks, inhaling deeply as tears fill his eyes, the emotion threatening to spill over any second. It’s been that way for him, too. Your dad has always been there, ever since he was a kid and his own father figures were less accessible. A leader by example, one of the kindest, gentlest souls he’s ever known. A man as unafraid to wear his heart on his sleeve as he was to tell a truly awfully cheesy joke. Someone he’s looked up to his whole life. One of the most devoted husbands and fathers he’s ever known.

“Me too. I always - you’ve always been -”

“I know, son. Come here.” he says, wrapping him in a big hug, the two of them holding tightly.

It’s a few moments before they pull away with firm slaps on the back, sheepish laughs as they wipe their eyes.

“When are you planning on doing it?”

“Couple months,” he says. “We’re heading to Italy once the tour’s done so thought it’d be nice to do it there.”

“You know, Ang is going to kill you when she learns you asked me and not her.”

“Oh I know. ‘S why I asked her last night.” Harry says, chuckling as Ian tilts his head back and roars with laughter. “Thought it’d be too suspicious to try to steal both of you away ‘nd I knew if I didn’t ask her first, she’d have my bloody head. She didn’t utter a word because she wanted me to surprise you today.”

“Good lad.” he says, hand falling to Harry’s shoulder before squeezing once as they head back onto the course. What had started out as a fun day of golf now brimming with something deeper. A new beginning of sorts.

He’s snapped out of his reverie by the sound of his phone ringing, momentarily disoriented as he finds himself back in the clubhouse suite, grin widening when looks at his phone, immediately swiping to answer your facetime call.

“Hi, baby.”

“Hey handsome,” you say and he can see you’re standing in the backyard of the rental, the sun radiating off your skin perfectly. God, he’s lucky. “How’d it go? How’d my dad do?”

At the mention of his name, your dad leans over the armchair and Harry pans the camera towards his face.

“You know, bug, it got pretty intense with all the fans out there.” Ian says solemnly, “I had asked them not to come but they can’t resist when they hear I’m in the area. Couldn’t get them to stop chanting “I-an! I-an! I-an!”

“Oh my god.” Harry hears you say before pulling the phone back to his face, chuckling as he shakes his head.

“That answer your question for you?” he asks as he stands, excusing himself with a point to the balcony as Ian nods and waves him off. He closes the sliding door behind him and pulls the phone up to his face again, unable to take his eyes off you. He was going to marry you one day. You were going to be his wife.

“You’re not listening to a bloody word I am saying.”

“What?”

“Harry!” you say with a laugh.

“Sorry, love. Just got distracted by your beautiful face.”

You squint at him dubiously through the screen before shaking your head with a smile.

“Should let you golf more often if you’re going to be this sweet to me.” you say, eyes looking him up and down. “And look this fit.”

“Yeah? You like the look?” he asks as you nod, simmering eyes staring back at him. He wiggles his eyebrows at you, smirking as his voice deepens. “Just wait until you hear about my stroke game. ‘Nd how well I just sink into the hole -”

You bark out a laugh, shaking your head at him.

“You cheeky bastard.” you say, laughter lacing through your words. “As I was saying before someone rudely distracted me - ”

“Can’t help it if my powers of seduction are simply too much for you, love.”

“I’m gonna hang up.”

He giggles. “‘M sorry, what were you going to say?”

“Are you heading off soon? The mums wanted to know when we can start cooking.”

“Yeah, we’re wrapping up here, probably be home in like 30?”

“Sounds good. I’m going to go help them and I’ll see you soon? You really do look fucking fit. ” you say, biting your lip as you stare at him. “You know, I’ve got a pretty good stroke game myself, would be happy to give you a few pointers.”

“‘M the luckiest bastard alive.” he says with utter sincerity and you tilt your head back in laughter.

“Okaaay.” you say, rolling your eyes. “See you soon, yeah? Love you.”

“Love you too, baby.” he says, blowing you a kiss before you hang up, slapping his phone against his hand as he mutters to himself: “Can’t wait to show you how much.”

He really, really couldn’t.

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#i'm sure you were looking for something v hot and smutty and instead i wrote you this #lmk what you think !#something old #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #didnt edit this at all just wanted to post it bc inspo struck

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