#bumping knees and giggling together

[evidenceof]

Hey, stovetop boys. Woof.

BILL LEYDEN and JAY DE L'EAU Part 6 Peleliu Airfield | The Pacific

*A vote of Bill'Eau is a vote for foxhole buddies*

[chososcutie]

virgin!choso ᯓ★

warnings: mention of masturbation, blowjob, cumming in pants, cowgirl, premature ejaculation, creampie

being virgin!choso’s first girlfriend, he’s sooo awkward and shy around you that it’s cute.

when virgin!choso talks to you, he’s instantly rendered a stuttering, rambling mess, his cheeks flushed and mouth dry.

especially when you wear those tight little tank tops that just barely show off your nipples, and reveal tantalizing glimpses of your cleavage; it’s all he can do to keep respectful eye contact and not ogle your chest like a perv.

virgin!choso who you think is your shy little boyfriend, awkward and harmless, but in reality, has an almost constant boner around you, always having to go home and stroke his achy cock, pretending it’s your hand instead of his.

and the first time virgin!choso kisses you, your candied, glossed lips on his, tasting so sugary sweet, he thinks he’s going to pass out.

oh, and when it turns into a hot ‘n heavy makeout sesh, you sucking on his tongue and tugging on his spacebuns to force his head back and lave your hot, wet muscle along his neck and clavicle, he cums straight in his pants, letting out a pathetic little whimper as his hips jerk, before excusing himself to the bathroom with a sheepish grin, praying you didn’t notice.

virgin!choso who ever since that first kiss, has been hooked, craving more and more to fill his insatiable need for you.

the first time you and virgin!choso start to get more intimate, watching a movie together before your hand innocently begins to work its way down, brushing against his chest and beginning to dip below his waistband, he’s already harder than a fucking rock, his breath hitched and eyes glued on you.

virgin!choso who breathes out a, “a-are you really gonna..” breaking off into a swallow as your hand pauses, looking at him with that sweet little doe-eyed gaze of yours.

“do you want me to?”

virgin!choso who opens his mouth to reply, only to break off into a pitiful little whine when your fingers start to trace the thumping veins lining his length.

“yes fuck, jus’ keep doin’ t-that..”

virgin!choso whose breath catches softly when you push his pants down the rest of the way, getting on your knees in front of him.

“w-what are you..?”

“god you’re biiig, cho’ ” you blink up at him so sweetly it has his twitchy cock throbbing, glistening pearly beads of precum dribbling in quick little pulses from his slit. “wonder how m’gonna fit all of you in my mouth..”

virgin!choso who knows he heard you wrong.

there’s just no way you could mean..

but true to your word, a second later when you take virgin!choso in your mouth, his balls are already tightening with the need to bust a load down your awaiting throat as his eyes roll so sluttily back into his head, hips stuttering.

you giggle around virgin!choso, your teasing tongue swathing pools n' pools of warm saliva down his cock, drool dribbling down to his base messily.

virgin!choso who has his head tilted back, and mouth open, trying to focus on anything other than you to stop the increasingly harder to ignore tightness of his coiling stomach from exploding.

and when you take virgin!choso’s tip to the back of your tight, warm throat, his thickened mushroom head bumping repeatedly into you, he’s about seconds away from cumming when you suddenly pull off him.

virgin!choso whimpers, big eyes pricking with tears at how close he had been, only for his protests to die in his throat when you slowly stand up, pulling down your tiny little shorts to fall around your ankles.

“wan’ you to cum inside, cho’ ..”

virgin!choso who gasps then, barely breathing when you come to straddle him, thighs sticking to his while your dripping cunt hovers over his reddened tip, sloooowly dragging yourself back n’ forth and back n’ forth..

and when you start to sink down on virgin!choso’s hardened inches, the second he’s inside you, he lets out a low keen, babbling mindlessly out a “m’cumming! m’sorry oh god m’cumming, m’cumming, m’cumming!”

virgin!choso who fills you up with wads of milky cum, sweltering hot and sticky as they pour out of your overspilling pussy, seemingly endless in their entirety as the glossy dredges of him seem to go on forever.

virgin!choso who is feverish, soft grunts falling from his slacken lips as you start to ride him, lewd squelches filling the room as you quickly find a rhythm, your sloppy pussy drooling strings of his seed with every bounce.

and oh, are your hips killer to virgin!choso whose never felt the touch of a woman before you, and is sure he’s in heaven as your pussy greedily swallows every thickened inch of his ridged length eagerly.

virgin!choso who is quick to help you out, wanting you to feel just as good, his hands tightly curling around your hips as he thrusts upward, burying himself to the hilt and bumping your g-spot relentlessly.

and the second virgin!choso hesitantly runs a finger over your pulsing little clit, his other hand reaching up to press down in curious wonder at the obscene bulge his cock was making in your stomach, he feels you cum, a sweet little symphony of mewls and gasps as you soak his shaft in your honeyed slick.

virgin!choso who after that day was no longer a virgin.

© 2025 CHOSOSCUTIE. please don't copy or translate any of my works. all rights reserved.

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

tagslist: @stickyyyv4mp @iluvgogurt445

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

Caleb touching and sucking mc’s tits for the first time after seeing her on a low cut top without a bra. He was very nervous but couldn’t help it🤍

．— ℱ）𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ：fem!reader ．nsfw．boob obsessed Caleb．tit fucking ．boob sucking ．submissive Caleb ＆ other stuff!

Caleb wasn’t the type to lose control easily. He prided himself on his self-restraint, on keeping a level head even in the most tempting situations.

But when you walked into his room wearing that low-cut top—without a bra—he felt his entire body betray him.

He tried not to stare. He really tried. But the way the fabric clung to your skin, the soft curves of your tits teasing him with every movement, made it impossible. His mouth felt dry, his fingers twitching where they rested on his knee.

You flopped onto his bed, stretching your arms above your head, and his eyes immediately dropped to the way your chest lifted with the motion. He bit the inside of his cheek so hard he swore he tasted blood.

“You’re acting weird,” you teased, tilting your head at him.

He scoffed, but it sounded too forced. “No, I’m not.”

You followed his gaze, then glanced down at yourself, a knowing smile playing on your lips. “Oh…” Your voice was light, teasing. “Are you staring at my—?”

“Don’t,” he muttered, rubbing his palm over his face.

But you only giggled, shifting closer until your knees bumped his. “Do you wanna touch them?”

Caleb stiffened, breath catching in his throat. “What?”

You reached for his hand, guiding it over your chest, and his fingers curled instinctively around the soft warmth. His entire body tensed. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think.

“Fuck pipsqueak,” he exhaled, barely above a whisper. His thumb grazed over your nipple, feeling it stiffen beneath his touch, and something primal stirred deep in his stomach.

Your breath hitched, the sound so quiet yet so devastating that his restraint snapped. He leaned in, pressing his lips to your collarbone, kissing his way down to the exposed skin of your chest. His tongue flicked out, testing, tasting, before he wrapped his lips around your nipple and sucked.

A sharp gasp left your lips, and your fingers immediately tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. He groaned against your skin, his hands gripping your waist as he took more of you into his mouth, sucking harder, letting his teeth graze just enough to make you shiver.

“You—fuck, Caleb,” you whimpered, arching into him, and that was it. That was the sound that ruined him.

His hands roamed greedily, his mouth moving between your tits, kissing, licking, devouring every inch you offered him. He didn’t even know what he was doing anymore—all he knew was that he needed more. More of your skin, more of your moans, more of you.

And from the way you clung to him, breathless and desperate, you needed it too.

Caleb was completely unraveling beneath you. The way his breath hitched, the way his fingers trembled against your skin—it was addicting. He wasn’t in control anymore, and you loved it.

“Pipsqueak,” he groaned, voice shaky, like he was barely holding himself together. “You’re—fuck—y’know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

You hummed, sliding your hands down his chest, feeling the way it rose and fell in uneven breaths. His cock strained against his pants, so obvious, so desperate, and the way he twitched beneath you sent a thrill down your spine.

“I dunno,” you murmured, trailing your fingers lower. “You’re the one shaking, Caleb.”

He let out a choked noise when you palmed him through the fabric, his hips jerking up into your touch. “Shut up,” he tried, but there was no bite behind it. If anything, he sounded needy.

You tugged at his waistband, watching his breath stutter as you freed him from the confines of his pants. His cock was flushed, leaking at the tip, and he twitched at the cool air. You pressed a teasing kiss to his stomach, grinning when he sucked in a sharp breath.

“You’re so hard already,” you whispered. “Is it ‘cause I let you suck on my tits, Caleb?”

His face burned. “Pipsqueak—”

You cut him off by pressing your tits together around his cock, watching as his head fell back against the pillows. His lips parted, breathless, and you felt a rush of satisfaction at the sight.

“Shit,” he whimpered, hands gripping the sheets. You rolled your hips slightly, adding just enough pressure as you moved, and he cursed under his breath.

He was falling apart so easily.

“You’re so sensitive,” you teased, lifting yourself slightly before pressing back down, letting his cock slide between the soft warmth of your chest. “You like this, don’t you?”

He let out the most pathetic whimper, his hips bucking up into you. “F-fuck, yes.”

You leaned in, letting your breath ghost over the head of his cock, and his entire body tensed. His thighs trembled as you flattened your tongue against the tip of his cock, licking up the precum that had gathered there.

Caleb moaned, gripping the sheets tighter. “Pipsqueak—please—”

You smirked. He was begging now?

“Please what?” You dragged out the words, slowing your movements just to watch him suffer.

His head snapped forward, eyes blown wide with desperation. His lips parted, trying to form words, but all that came out was desperate, breathless whimper.

God, he was so easy to break.

And you weren’t done with him yet.

Caleb was falling apart beneath you. His chest heaved, his fingers twitching where they gripped the sheets, completely at your mercy. His cock throbbed between your boobs, slick with his own precum, and every time you moved, his breath hitched like he was this close to losing himself.

“Look at you,” you murmured, pressing your chest together tighter around him. “So needy… you can’t even handle this, can you?”

He whined, actually whined, his hips jerking up involuntarily. “F-fuck, please—”

“Please what?” You slowed your pace, teasing him, watching his face twist in frustration. His cheeks were flushed, his lips parted as little breathless moans spilled from them.

“Please—ah, shit—please don’t stop.” His voice was wrecked, desperate. “I-I can’t—fuck, I need—”

You smirked, shifting slightly to let your tongue flick over his tip again, tasting the heat of him as he shuddered beneath you.

“Need what, Caleb?” You licked up the underside, slow and deliberate, watching the way his muscles tensed. “Say it.”

His fingers flexed, then clenched the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white. His body was trembling, barely able to handle the way you had him trapped between your softness, teasing, dragging out every second just to watch him crumble.

“I need—fuck—I need to cum,” he gasped. “Please, pipsqueak, I—ahh—please.”

God, he was pathetic. A trembling mess beneath you, completely at your mercy, begging like he’d fall apart if you didn’t let him have it.

You smirked, pressing your soft tits even tighter around his cock, moving faster, watching the way his body tensed, the way his thighs shook.

“Then cum for me,” you murmured, licking your lips as his breath caught.

Caleb let out a choked moan, his hips bucking up into the warmth of your chest, his entire body shuddering as he finally broke. His grip on the sheets tightened, back arching as he came undone, spilling between your pillowy tits with a wrecked gasp of your name.

You watched him, drinking in the way he trembled, the way his body sagged into the mattress, utterly spent. His breath was ragged, eyes hazy as he stared at you like you had completely ruined him.

And maybe you had.

His fingers twitched, weakly reaching for you, but he didn’t have the strength to pull you close. You leaned over him anyway, pressing a teasing kiss to his sharp jaw.

“You’re so easy, Caleb,” you whispered. “I might have to do this more often.”

His breath hitched, and even in his wrecked state, you could feel him twitch against your thigh.

Yeah. He was definitely yours now.

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[ribbonprincess]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

"my eyes burn,rafey..." you whine,tugging at his shirt while he sits on the couch,selling drugs you don't even wanna know about.

"I told you to not wear contacts tonight and you still went and did that,so I don't wanna hear anything." Looking down at the bands of cash as he counts them before putting them in his pocket. "but my head really hurts and the music Is loud-" "and what do you want me to do? tell them to lower it down cause the princess over here is sick?"

You hated when he got like this,way too mean after snorting coke all day long. "you're being mean...stop it." Searching through your bag for the tiny container of the contacts you pull it out, carefully wiping your hand with a wet wipe before removing the contacts from your eyes as you sigh in relief,closing the lids before throwing the container back in the bag; this time searching for your glasses.

"rafe,do I look stupid?" You ask,gazing at him with your glasses now sitting on top of your face and a small pout on your lips. "you don't look stupid,but you are for asking such a dumb question- you're the prettiest girl,yeah?" Tugging you closer with an arm wrapped around your shoulders,before pressing a kiss to your head.

"I'll finish selling and then we can leave if you really want to,okay? "okay..." Nodding at his words as you look around the party.

꒦꒷︶°꒷︶°︶₊˚ʚɞ˚₊︶°︶꒦˚︶꒷꒦

A couple of hours later you find yourself in the bathroom of his room,wiping away your makeup off before proceeding with your skincare routine as Rafe stands at the doorway,only a pair of sweatpants on his body.

"feeling better,kid?" He asks,moving over you as he wraps his arms around your waist. "not really,Advil is not working." Turning around after you finish your rituals, you smile a bit. "hi daddy" "hi angel..." Pulling you closer as his chest flush against yours,grabbing your chin as he smirks "too tired tonight?" "a bit...don't feel really like doing anything crazy-"

"you're gonna let me eat it?" Gasping out loud you hide into his chest,giggling quietly. "yeah...fine,but nothing else-"

Making an instant move as he hoists you up in his arms,sitting you on the counter of the bathroom,pressing your lips together hungrily. "fuck,yeah yeah- just let me taste you" Running a hand over your cami top as he squeeze at your left tit,moving his mouth lower as he sucks on the skin of your neck. "you smell so good" "it's the perfume you bought me for valentine's day" Smiling as he pulls down your top,latching his mouth on your nipple as his other hand move slowly on your shorts,pressing on your clothed clit. "no panties right? you know I don't like those on when we're at home"

Shaking your head with a yelp,you grab his hair pulling a bit "rafe-" "I know I know...I got you darling" Pulling down your shorts he smiles,sitting on his knees on the cold floor of the bathroom as he grabs at your ass cheeks,bringing you closer to his face. "Bon appétit" He mumbles before diving in.

Pressing his mouth on you as he basically makes out with your heat, sneaking a finger into your needy hole as his mouth sucks on your clit. "fuck- rafe.." "yeah,I know I know baby,I got you." Adding a second finger as his tongue licks everything he possibly can,savoring your juices as he loudly slurps making you almost embarrassed if it wasn't for the fact he was giving you the best head ever. "you're gonna cum for me baby and you're gonna do it loud and hard" Nodding as you grind your heat on him,his nose bumping deliciously on your clit making you moan out loud,pulling at his scalp "daddy- fuck, right there"

Keeping his rhythm steady his fingers curls into your spongy spot, making your head tilt backwards as your hand blindly searches for your glasses "rayray...my glasses,wanna see you.." Looking up at you,he uses his free hand to take your glasses from the counter,not stopping any motion as he puts them on your face. "thank you" Fixing them a bit, you look back down at him as his hand moves back down your throat,squeezing a bit before stopping back on your boob,pinching at your nipple.

With the final stimulation you scream "m cumming,fuck fuck!" Pushing his face more into you,you cum loudly closing your eyes in pure bliss as he slows the movement of his fingers, pressing a final kiss to your clit before coming back up. Wiping the juice off his face with a hand before sticking the same fingers into your mouth,making you gag as you lick them clean. "how's that sweetie? your headache gone?" "what headache?"

[d3stinyist1red]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟ ʙᴏʏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

yan magical boy who lived within a enchanted, magical forests with his parents, and siblings. He was a prodigy, overpowered and everything. He learned how to work with his magic at the age of 8.

yan magical boy who was youngest student to ever be admitted to the prestigious Arcane Academy, he was hailed as a prodigy, gifted with magic far beyond his years. His peers admired him, his teachers pushed him toward greatness, but none of that ever mattered to him. He didn't care about all that, all he cared about was being better than everyone.

yan magical boy who was a annoying bitch, he would bump into you on purpose, and giggled at your irritated expression. He noticed the way your eyes narrowed at him and he would blush. He needed to be near you, like a spell that only worked if he was within a certain distance of your presence. He clung and followed you like you were the very source of his magic.

"The hell's your problem dude?" You said to him, looking down at him since he was shorter than you. He innocently blinked up at you, titling his head. "What are u talking about, n/n?" He said with that soft voice he always did when talking to you. You rolled your eyes and walked past him, not noticing him sniffing you as u walked past.

yan magical boy who was used to getting what he wanted, so imagine his surprise when the first ever person he wanted, doesn't want him!

yan magical boy who began using his magic in subtle ways to keep you close. At first, it was harmless. A slight enchantment to ensure they ended up paired together for projects, a simple spell to lead her path toward his in the hallways. But, he was an impantient fuck, he couldn't stand seeing you laugh with someone else, talk with someone else, even breath near someone else!

yan magical boy who made a love spell, and while sparring, he acted as if was going to block her strike, but as he did, he “accidentally” brushed his hand against your skin, dabbing the potion on you. He grinned, waiting for you to drop on your knees and propose to him or sum

But, nothing happened, and you still kept trying to fight with him, your expression stoic like always. He blinked, his mind racing. Surely, the potion should have worked by now? He had calculated every ingredient, every step—there was no way it could have failed?

yan magical boy who failed.. LMAOOOAOA

yan magical boy who after that, became even more clingy, pouting and becoming whiny whenever the love spells wouldn't work. (he kept tryna put love spells on u HE DOES NOT CARE)

“Y/N!” he called, running towards you like an excited puppy. “I was looking for you! Here, I made you a lunch! Don't mind the white cream in your sandwich okay? Its..ranch! Yup! Ranch! And the goey yogurt is definitely not a love potion!"

yan magical boy who whimpers when you congratulate him, feeling his pants tightening, and knowing hes gonna need to use his delusionals to imagine your the one fisting him off.

yan magical boy who is ur magical freak who loves you so sooooo much! <3

SEND REQUESTTSSSTSSTSY

GUYS PLS MAKE YAN BLLKS BOOKS OMGGOGMGOGM

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hello, hope you're a having a good day

Could you write something about 141 x reader where the sparring session turns a little too not your usual sparring (if you know what I mean). The reader and them being all sweaty and shit and like the sexual tension that's been there for a while. This idea has been plaguing my mind since forever. Thank youuuu

Haha! Yes! Omg, I love it. Okay, for this, I didn't go full smut. When someone mentions sexual tension, I tend to hyperfocus on that and want to bathe in it. Give me naughty thoughts and flirting-maybe even some actual physical contact that borders on dangerous territory. Give me the yearning! I want to giggle and kick my feet and think about what might happen later.

So, I indulged in that regard! I had lots of fun with this. Thank you so much for sending it in!!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x TF141!Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, knife play, grinding, rough kissing, caught in the act, training, naughty thoughts, mutual yearning

Word Count: 2.4k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish

“Come on. Come at me.”

Soap rolls his shoulders and then brings his fists up in a fighting stance. He makes a “go on” gestured with his hands.

Every muscle in your body is sore. Tired doesn’t even begin to describe how you’re feeling. But you want to best Soap. He’s been on your ass for weeks now—insisting that the two of you should spar together. It’s not the sparring that makes you warm and tingly but the way he suggests it.

Always leaning in. Standing far too close. Bumping your shoulder with his.

Soap waits, but you’re not sure how to proceed. So far, you’ve been completely unsuccessful. As if knowing all your moves, Soap has dodged each blow and kick, effortlessly taking you down to the mat every time you thinking you’ve ensnared him.

Stealth is more your thing. Creeping around in the shadows. Taking out opponents from afar. A sniper scope is your friend. Hand-to-hand isn’t.

You lunge for him and Soap steps back. Fist missing him, you sidestep and go for a jab in the stomach. Soap slaps your hand away, and you want to yell in frustration.

“Sloppy today,” chides Soap, grinning like this amuses him.

It probably does. He’s one for a good laugh.

This time you feign, and Soap takes it, moving in. You’re ready for him, turning out of his swing to duck beneath and then aim for the face. Soap rises to block, and opens a clear line to his groin.

Fucking beautiful.

Lifting your foot, you don’t tap him hard, just enough for his cheeks to go pink. Soap grunts, and you chuckle.

“Shouldn’t have left yourself—”

With an oof, your back smacks against the tumble mat beneath you. Soaps snags your wrists and pins them above your head. You go to kick out at him, but Soap’s knees are between your legs. He shoves them wider.

You’re completely trapped beneath him.

And in a completely inappropriate position.

From where you’re pinned, you notice the small beads of sweat on his brow and how a few pieces of hair stick to his skin. Though his chest is covered by a shirt, it’s snug, with every muscle on display. Those powerful thighs of his press against yours in such a way that you’re imagining nothing between your bodies.

Would he feel this powerful over you if the two of you were elsewhere? Perhaps, somewhere more private. Somewhere without a tumble mat. Somewhere with a bed.

“Can’t harm the goods, love,” says Soap, his voice husky. You’re not sure if it’s from the close contact or from the tap you gave his crotch.

“Then don’t leave them vulnerable,” you reply, almost not recognizing the sound of your own voice. It too is husky as if dipped in desire.

The middle of Soap’s brow scrunches slightly. His gaze travels downward to linger on your lips and then further still until you sense him admiring more than he is observing.

“Soap—”

His gaze snaps upward. “Johnny,” he corrects. “Think we’re on closer terms.”

“Are we?” you ask, as his hips start to relax.

The press of him against you is apparent, and the hardness there is poking at you. Insistent. And you don’t want to ignore it.

Instead, you press upward, grinding against him.

Soap—no—Johnny, makes a sound in his throat.

One moment you’re under him and then you’re in his lap, the two of you sitting up, staring into each other’s eyes. Your heart hammers in your chest, and your hands fists the front of his shirt.

“You—”

“Are we interrupting something?”

You and Johnny turn just as Ghost and Gaz enter the gym. Gaz has a towel draped over his shoulder. The water bottle he holds it half-way towards his mouth before he freezes, gaze locked on you and Johnny.

Ghost cocks his head, arms crossed over his chest.

You’re speechless. Lost. Your mind hasn’t caught up.

But Johnny’s has.

With a twist, Johnny rolls and then lightly tosses you off him as if the two of you were simply practicing and not staring into each other’s eyes.

“You want a go, Lt?” asks Johnny.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“You up for another round?” asks Kyle.

The man is grinning like he could do this all day. You’re sore everywhere—ready to collapse from exhaustion. Hand-to-hand combat is not your thing which is why you’re here in the training room with Kyle.

Yes, you need practice, but you’ve also had your eye on him, admiring him when you think no one is looking. It’s an excuse for some alone time.

“I’d rather eat glass,” you mutter, snatching up your water bottle and drinking the last of it.

“Hate me that much?” he teases.

“So much so that I wanted to spend the afternoon beating your ass.”

Kyle bursts out laughing. He snatches the water bottle out of your hand and aims it at you, squeezing. There’s nothing in it. A few measly drops hit your face and then you lunge for him. Kyle jumps back and extends his arms outward.

“One more round.” He winks. “Come on, love.”

He’s being cheeky, and your blood is pumping.

Kyle tosses your water bottle to the side as you stride forward. His arms go up, and then the two of you are nothing but flying fists and feet. He’s faster, blocking every blow you send his way.

Sweat accumulates on your brow and on the back of your neck, dripping down your spine. You lick your lips, taste the salt from the sweat.

You duck. Swing. Kyle snatches your wrist and twists, pinning your arm behind you. With a sharp jab of your elbow, you nail Kyle in the stomach, freeing yourself.

As you spin to lash out, Kyle is right there, in your space, blocking all movement. You try to step back, to allow space in your next strike, but Kyle rushes in. The two of you are twisted up. Falling. Slamming into the mat on the floor.

You shove and Kyle resists, his strength outmatching yours. With cheek pressed into the mat, you have nowhere to go. You’re completely on your stomach, and all of Kyle’s weight is on you. He breathes heavily, chest heaving. You feel his breath against your skin, and the contact only sends your skin into a shiver.

Your mind drifts, lingering in places it shouldn’t. Worse—Kyle is aroused. His hardness pokes at your ass. But whether he notices or not is unclear.

“You’re improving,” he says.

“I have a good teacher.”

Kyle makes a noise that sounds like agreement. Every muscle is tense, and even Kyle’s hold on you seems laced with something harsh. But then it eases. Softens. His grip loosens enough that you roll onto your side, glancing up at him.

He is so goddamn close. Just a gentle tilt of the head and your lips would meet his. It wouldn’t be that hard. He’s right there.

Kyle blinks, and then his gaze trails downward, lingering on your lips.

“We,” he begins. “We shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

His thumb traces along the side of your throat, and your eyelids flutter with contentment. A little moan escapes you, and you hear Kyle’s sharp inhale.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck it.”

His thumb becomes his whole hand. Holding you in place, Kyle goes all in, claiming your lips with his. It is dominating, and you happily give in to him.

John Price

Your back hits the tumble mat with a sharp slap. The exposed portions of your shoulders and back sting from the contact.

"Again."

Groaning, you push up to a seated position. "We've been at this for hours."

"And you need practice," counters Price.

He's hatless. And shirtless. Only in cargo pants and boots, Captain Price's bare skin glistens with sweat. You won't pretend that the sight of him like this doesn't intrigue you. For months now you've been observing Captain Price in more than just a professional manner. It's hard not to, and the sweat-drenched man before you isn't helping things.

Captain Price runs his fingers through his hair, taking a step back. The casualness to the movement causes your stomach to twist with desire. Your body betrays you, and you have no idea if these feelings are entirely one-sided. Sometimes you think you might gleam a notion of his thoughts, but it always manages to slip through your grasp.

Price offers his hand, and an idea forms.

You extend yours, but don't close the distance. Price is the one that leans forward to do so. It's the perfect opportunity. When your fingers close around his, you tug back, throwing him off balance.

Price tips forward, and you turn to the side as he crashes down to the mat. In one fluid movement, you roll Price onto his back and straddle his stomach.

"Never let your guard down. That's what you always say."

Price's eyes widen slightly before softening. The corner of his mouth twitches into a hint of amusement. It immediately sends heat flaring through you.

"I do," he replies, and it's nearly a coo.

That smirk of his widens into an actual smile, and then it's you on your back and Price straddling. You strike out with an elbow but Price catches your swing, trapping your arms above your head. He bends forward a bit, and it is then that you feel the stiffness against your stomach.

Price makes no move to hide it, and you don’t dare glance downward.

"You need to do better-"

"Captain."

Price immediately recoils, sitting up and releasing your arms. You twist to look behind you, only to find Ghost and Soap standing nearby. Ghost is ever the silent observer, but Soap's head is slightly tilted to the side, the middle of his brow pinched like he's not sure what's happening.

"Meeting starts in five,” says Soap. “Came to find you."

Price coughs and then he's off you, kneeling and offering you a hand again. You don't try to knock him down.

"Just going over some pointers,” replies Price.

"Pointers?" deadpans Ghost and you shoot him a look. He shrugs at you, gaze lingering before moving to his captain.

"Give me ten minutes. Shower. Then I'll be there."

Captain Price gives you a quick glance before walking off with Soap. Ghost crosses his arms over his chest and just stares.

“What?" you snap

"Pointers," he repeats.

"Oh, fuck off, Simon."

He chuckles and turns to follow the two out of the training room.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

"Your posture is terrible."

"That's very helpful, Lieutenant,” you deadpan.

"Are you sassing me?"

"No."

Simon shakes his head and sighs. “Can’t throw a knife accurately if you’re hunched like a goblin.”

“Goblin,” you mutter under your breath. “Asshole.”

“What was that?”

You clear your throat. “Seems easy, Lieutenant. You just throw the pointy end at the enemy.”

Simon grunts and then grabs your raised arm. "You won't hit anything standing like that."

You resist his pull but you're outmatch when it comes to strength. With one hand on your arm and one on your waist, Simon shifts you into position.

"Like this," he instructs, bringing your arm back. "Firm grip. Feet pointed forward." Simon releases your arm but his hand on your waist remains. "Throw. At the target."

You let the knife fly. It strikes just right of the bullseye.

"Again,” nods Simon.

"Really?"

Simon slowly drops his hand from your waist, the tips of fingers lingering a second longer than necessary.

Removing a knife from his boot, Simon flips it end over end. "We could hone your skills a different way."

"What way?"

“Grab your knife and find out.”

Stalking toward the bullseyes, you yank out the knife, joining Simon in the sparring ring. He bends at the knee, crouching into a fight stance. You mimic the movement.

Simon lunges first and you sidestep. But he's quick for such a large man. He moves around and behind you so fast he's almost a blur.

Grabbing your wrist, Simon lightly twists and pins you against his front, the knife tip pointed at your throat.

"Again,” he growls.

Simon lightly shoves you away. You spin. Striking out. He slaps your arm down and raises his own, the knife tip pointed at your throat for a second time.

"Again."

Showing your teeth, you charge at him, barreling into him at the middle. Simon staggers but doesn't faulter. He attempts to toss you off him, but you remain firm, grabbing hold.

This unloads him, his weight toppling with you. The two of you go down. Simon rolls you onto your back, his body pressed to yours, knife at your throat again.

"Better,” he says. “Still needs improvement."

You go to shove him off, but Simon doesn't budge. He remains where he is, and every point of contact is like an electrical spark. Even his face is close, balaclava nearly scratching against your skin. There is not part of him you’re not touching.

Awareness settles in.

Simon is all hardness over you.

"Have any tips you can give me?" you reply.

His gaze slowly lowers to your lips. His hips shift slightly, something stiff poking against your inner thigh.

“I have one,” he murmurs.

Bet I can guess.

“How do you want it?” he continues.

"You're the expert," you reply softly, hooking your leg over the back of his.

It's an invitation, one you aren't sure he'll take.

There’s a brief pause, and then Simon hums in agreement. It’s a pleased sound, one that instantly makes you shiver. Without taking the knife from your throat, he closes the distance, lips pressing against yours through the balaclava.

Heat erupts, the knife in your hand forgotten on the floor as you grab at him, fingers digging in.

It's only a tease. You want the real thing.

"What's the tip?" you ask once he breaks the connection.

Simon answers by grinding his hips against yours.

That one. Got it.

“We should—”

A door slams from somewhere down the hall. Simon’s head snaps up. The knife disappears, and then Simon is pushing himself away, kneeling beside you. His head is turned toward the main doors, but no one enters.

“It’s late,” you say. No one should be coming this way.

He turns back to you. “Your knife skills are shit.”

You groan. “I know. Goblin hunch. Got it.”

Simon snorts, and offers his hand. You take it, and he pulls you into a seated position. “Just a few more rounds,” he says, and then with a husky twinge to his tone, “and then I’ll go make sure the locker room is clear.”

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @cherryofdeath @ferns-fics

@tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @miaraei @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @no-oneelsebutnsu @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction

@weasleytwins-41 @saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey

@mudisgranapat @lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza

@nishim @voids-universe @iloveslasher @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@umno-yeah @daemondoll @jackrabbitem @lxblm @arrozyfrijoles23

@lovely-ateez @ash-tarte @enarien @gingergirl06 @greeniegreengreen

[miupow]

★ ── LE SEXE, JE VEUX DIRE ! [MAKNAE LINE]

what happens when you give the maknae line an aphrodisiac 。 。 。?

꒰୨୧ ꒱ pairing。stray kids maknae line x fem!reader genre。 pure smut , pwp warnings。 aphrodisiacs , sex while intoxicated , mutual masturbation , unprotected sex , vaginal fingering , oral (f. and m. rec) , spanking , cowgirl position , face sitting , squirting , overstimulation

a/n ⸝⸝ requested maknae line version of my hyung line drabble! [ 0. 6k words ] ⸝⸝ [ m. list ]

𝓙ISUNG

god, he’s already so needy just as he is… losing all self control instantly, shoving his hand down his sweats to pull out his thick cock before you can even reach for him. masturbating together on either side of the couch, greedy eyes watching eachother get off, jisung’s cock growing harder and harder with every stroke of his hand, every circle of your fingers against your swollen clit. unable to stop yourselves until you’ve both cum, the cushions wet and sticky from your combined releases— jisung doesn’t care as he shreds the clothes off of the both of you, tugs you down to meet him as he guides his already stiffening cock against your drenched hole. you’ll fuck until you can’t anymore, the both of you drained completely dry, embraced in eachothers arms as you lay spent on the ruined couch. “let’s do that again,” jisung giggles into your hair, “that was fun!”

𝓕ELIX

felix is always more of a giver than a receiver, and nothing could be truer than when he’s under the spell of an aphrodisiac. all he wants is to please you, make you feel good, let him give himself entirely to you so you can drown in pleasure. opening you up on his fingers slowly and expertly, making sure you feel every inch of his short fingers inside of you, his rough fingertips pressing just right against your gummy sweet spot as he plays with your clit in his other hand. bringing you to the edge over and over, making you cum until your juices drip down his wrists. it’s like he gets stuck in some kind of trance, unable to pull himself away or stop himself from touching you, kissing you, loving you. finally breaking out of it when you cry out loudly and tug at his hair, his own deep moan intertwining with yours as you sob out for his cock instead. and of course lixxie is going to give it to you, he’d do anything you asked.

𝓢EUNGMIN

you made him this way, seungmin grumbles, when you let out a pathetic hiccup of “t-too much!” , your voice garbled and ruined from his cock in your mouth. it’s your responsibility to fix the mess you made, on your hands and knees swallowing his cock down your throat, little hand stroking what couldn’t fit— seungmin reaches over you to land a harsh slap to your ass, snickering at the way you gag and choke around him. you’re just a toy for his pleasure, a sex doll for him to use to get off; ordering you to serve him and take it all like the good girl he knows you are. his fingers tangling in your hair, his pretty cries he tries to hold in, take it like he knows you love it and he’ll reward you with his hot cum down your throat and his cock speared deep in your pussy. maybe he’ll even give you a creampie, if you beg prettily enough.

𝓙EONGIN

innie gets so thirsty for pussy when he’s given an aphrodisiac, absolutely shameless in rolling over onto his back and begging you to sit on his face. he’ll eat you with your clothes still on, he doesn’t care one bit— pulling your skirt up to your waist and tugging your wet panties to the side with his teeth before diving into your cunt. and he really wants you to sit, put all of your weight on him, don’t worry, he’s strong enough! tugging you down onto his face when you hover over him, too nervous to fully sit down, “c’mon, i said sit!” his big veiny hands constantly wandering all over your body as he eats you out like a starved man, his nose bumping your clit as he gropes at your exposed ass and tits, your little waist, your plush thighs. make him breathless , smother him with your pussy— and watch him cum in his sweatpants as he makes you squirt on his tongue, his pretty whines and whimpers muffled by your thighs.

[3mmalg]

Just Us | Old Man!Logan x Reader

🌶️ 18+

Summary: You and Logan have been on the road with Charles and Laura, but finally catch a moment for yourselves.

It has been too long since you and Logan have spent time alone together. Ever since taking in Laura and making the decision to take her north at her mother’s wish, the four of you have been sharing dingy motels and catching whatever rest you could in the truck. Charles needed to be taken care of and the kid had to be corralled, exhausting you and Logan on top of the constant threat of Dr. Rice and Pierce.

You could tell this sudden change of pace was weighing on Logan’s shoulders heavily. The circles under his eyes were darkening and the worry lines on his forehead were deepening. The frustration was eating away at him, but deep down he knew he had to do this. You could tell he needed release. He found this situation ridiculous and constantly asks you why you let him do this. After all, you, Charles, Caliban and Logan had been successfully under the radar until now. Life was peaceful and even somewhat enjoyable for Logan’s standards. Now, Caliban is dead, Charles refuses his medication, and the pair of you are tasked with taking a child to a sanctuary that could not even exist.

An unexpected change of your path lead the four of you to the farmhouse of a sweet family whom Charles and Logan helped on the highway. They fed you dinner and offered to lend you all a place to sleep, which Logan quickly accepted, catching your gaze from across the dining room. Your eyes trail down his body, catching a glimpse of his clenched fist, and a certain outline in between his legs. Your eyes travel up once more, sharing a shy smirk with Logan.

After helping Charles into bed and getting Laura comfortable, Logan grabs your hand tightly and nearly drags you off into your shared room. His heavy footsteps drown out your giggles- His body language could only mean one thing.

“Well, aren’t you eager?” You say to Logan in a lowered voice, biting back a smile. He closes the door behind you and locks it, spinning you and pressing you into the door.

“You have no idea, bub.” Logan growls.

He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head tightly. His head dips to the crook of your neck, biting and sucking desperately. Your head drops back instinctively, bumping the door behind you. He was so impossibly close already, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to be inside you.

With his free hand, Logan finds the buttons of your jeans and masterfully undoes them. He releases your wrists and your hands quickly find his cheeks to pull his mouth away from your neck and to your lips. He groans deeply into the kiss and shoves your jeans to your knees as your hands tighten in his dusty grey hair. He pushes his knee into yours, forcing your legs open, and shoves his jean covered thigh against your core. You instantly moan into Logan’s mouth.

“You know how long it’s been since I’ve had you to myself? Too damn long.” He says, guiding your hips as you grind on his thigh.

“I’ve missed you.” You choke out, causing Logan to chuckle.

“Well you’ve got me for at least tonight sweet girl.”

He removes his knee from between your legs and helps you step out of your jeans and panties. He takes your hand and leads you to the bed, laying you down on the edge of it. You prop yourself onto your elbows and watch Logan unbutton his flannel and reveal his weathered body. He had been through so much in his life, but he would always make time for his girl.

He works off his jeans, leaving him only in his plain boxers, and leaving you with a wide eyed stare. This would never get old. He inserts himself between your legs and reaches for the hem of your shirt, tugging it over your head and unclasps your bra while he’s at it. He sighs at the sight he had been missing for the last few weeks. He may not tell you often, but you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“You ready, bub? Don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

You whimper out a desperate reply, but it isn’t good enough for Logan. He leans down, hands placed on either side of your head. Your legs immediately wrap around his hips.

“Use your words, honey. Let me hear you.” He growls into your ear.

“Please, Logan. I need you.”

He chuckles, breath fanning over your ear and neck.

“That’s what I like to hear. Such a good girl for me.” His voice dripping with desire.

He pushes his hands up and pushes his boxers down his hips, revealing his hard cock. He strokes it lazily before guiding it to your entrance. He enters you inch by inch, teasing you both. Even though it’s only been a few weeks without touching each other, being on the run has made it feel like years. Logan finally sinks his hips to become flush with yours, filling you completely. The two of you are panting into each other’s mouths, just completely full of desire and love for the other.

“You ready for me to move, hon?” He whispers in between labored breaths. You nod meekly, hair sticking to your forehead. He kisses you tenderly, his beard scratching your chin. Logan begins to move at a slow pace, but quickly picks up speed. He wants nothing more than a passionate night with you, but it’s been too long to hold himself back.

His speed increases, thrusting into you as hard as he promised. Your jaw goes slack to release a moan, but he covers it quickly with his large hand.

“As much as I wanna hear you, we don’t want to wake our hosts, huh?” He says, smiling at your fucked out expression. You nod, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he fucks you hard.

“You’re close bub, I can feel it. Just let go for me baby.” He whispers, forehead against yours.

You let out a stifled moan against Logan’s hand as he pulls out and releases all over your stomach and thighs. He flops beside you with a groan and maneuvers himself to the top of the bed, pulling you into his muscular chest and wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders.

“I missed you.” You whisper, eyes fluttering shut.

“I know.”

[cal-flakes]

hi lover!! can we see dealer!rafe teaching innocent!reader how to do a bump pretty please 😋😋 my fav trope!!!

yes yes yes yes you fuckin’ can my love. (not proofread i apologise i am a sleepy girl rn)

‧₊🫧꒷꒦‧₊˚⋆

— “you lost or somethin’?” a smug voice appeared behind you, causing you to flinch in fright, lost in your own mind. you peered up at him, all glossy lipped and doe eyed, just like he expected. “oh— rafe! sorry, i was jus’ seeing if i left my charger in here” you explained, a sweet smile gracing your face. his brows furrowed, yet his shoulders relaxed, simply unable to keep up the intimidating act while you beamed up at him the way you did.

“and why would it be in here?” he questioned further, eyes narrowing slightly while a smirk tugged at his lips. “oh no— i mean, i didn’t leave it in here, but sarah said she might’ve let you borrow it or something?” your grin faltered slightly, picking up on the undertone of annoyance in his voice.

it wasn’t that rafe was scary— well, he was, but he made an effort not to scare you. how could he? his sister friend who always showed up in sweet little dresses, neatly styled hair, perfected makeup. the last thing he wanted was to scare you, if anything he wanted to know more. unbeknownst to rafe, you were just as intrigued— ogling him over the kitchen island when he came back to tannyhill late at night, interrupting your and sarah’s girly nights in. always offering to help whenever he seemed stressed.

taking a step back, he reached into his bedside drawer with ease, pulling out a familiar bedazzled iphone charger. “m’messin’ with you kid, y’mean this charger?” he chuckled, watching carefully as you let out a quiet, shaky breath before quickly regaining your smile. “that’s the one! thanks rafe!” you giggled, taking the item from his hands before heading for the door. “y’know, why don’t you stay for a bit? spend some time w’me? she’s got you all to herself all the time”

your hand retracted from the door immediately as the words left his mouth, though mentally scolding yourself for seeming so eager. “well— i’m sure she wouldn’t mind, just for little while”

— before you knew it, hours had passed, the only noise in the house being the movie rafe had picked as well as your giggles. you’d found yourself laying down on his bed, head resting on his knee as he lay against the headboard.

“y’look tired doll, y’okay?” he hummed, resting a lazy hand on your cheek as you released a surprised yawn, not wanting him to think you were getting bored. “jus’ a little, s’okay though, i can stay up a bit longer..” you spoke softly, turning over to face him now.

“i’ve got somethin’ that can help” he stated nonchalantly, reaching again into his bedside drawer, this time pulling out a not-so bedazzled baggy. your brows knitted together. “whas’at?”

“you trust me?” he tested, cocking an eyebrow as he sat up slightly. “course’ i do rafe” you smiled naively, watching as he opened the bag, tapping it gently as he poured out a small pile onto the back of his thumb. “this, is everything you need”

his other hand beckoned you forward till you were within his reach, carefully pulling you into his lap, legs slotted beside his as you tugged at the hem of your dress, doing your best to cover up. “now, your gonna close your other nostril, and sniff up— hard, m’kay? you listenin’ baby?” he instructed, tapping your jaw slightly as if you bring you back into the room, noticing the vacant look in your eyes as they stared at him in awe. “mhm”

swiftly, rafe pressed his hand to the back of your head as his other came up to your nose, guiding you through it as the grainy powder made its way up your nose, an unfamiliar feeling that only made your eyes water. “s’okay doll, it’ll hit you in a second alright?” he cooed, using the same hand to wipe away the pools building in the corners of your eyes before pulling you further into him.

“not just sarah’s little friend after all, huh kid?” he smirked, allowing you to nuzzle into his chest for a moment as you both waited for the high.

[sturnioz]

shy!reader gets too wasted at a frat party, and fratboy!chris has to deal with her.

you're unable to count on your fingers how many shots you've taken tonight.

with your body slumped against the wall, feeling like you're melting, and a giddy smile that stretches across your face, the sweet, fruity flavour of a previous drink lingering on your tongue—you know you've had far too much.

you can't stop laughing, the sound bubbling up from your throat as the warmth of the alcohol pulses through your veins, making the room spin. the party swirls around you—loud music, overlapping voices, and flashing lights all blend together in a dizzying blur to you.

your legs feel like jelly, shaky and unsteady beneath you, and each attempt you make to stand on your own sends you wobbling, and you can't help but giggle at your own clumsiness.

you curl your hand around bee's wrist as she drunkenly babbles on, her words a jumble that you really struggle to understand—something about nate, maybe? you have no idea. instead, you just blink slowly at her, your lashes fluttering against your warm cheeks as the giddy smile remains stuck on your face.

but your eyebrows shoot up as you peer over her shoulder, spotting chris standing in a small circle with familiar faces, handing out small baggies filled with whatever substance of the night. instantly, you push yourself off the wall, unsteady on your feet, and wobble toward him, accidentally bumping into a few people who shoot you nasty glares—glares that you blissfully ignore, too focussed on reaching chris.

when you finally make it to him, your feet betray you, losing your balance as you crash into his back with force. he lets out a huff, the unexpected weight causing him to lurch forward before his head whips around, a sharp scowl on his face and his body tensing beneath your touch when your arms slip around his waist, clinging to him to keep yourself upright.

"what the fuck?"

"m'sorr — hiccup — sorrrry." you drawl, your words slurring together as you struggle to focus on his gaze, the annoyance flickering in his eyes making you giggle, which only seems to fuel him further.

"are you.. are you fuckin' drunk right now?" he grips your jaw, forcing you to look at him as you cling tighter to his waist, laughter bubbling up as you sway slightly, your body feeling loose. "you serious, kid?"

you blink up at him with wide, unfocussed eyes, opening your mouth to respond, but it all comes out as a slurred jumbled mess, completely incoherent to chris' ears as his glare deepens.

your uncontrollable giggles echo around you at his serious facial expression, and you can see him clenching his jaw, clearly annoyed not just by your sudden drunken state but by interrupting him.

he presses, "m'tryin' to work here, kid. you — you understand that?"

"wan... wanted see — hiccup — y-you," you manage to say, your bottom lip forming into a fake pout as you tug at his waist for stability, your knees buckling as you slump against him. "meany."

chris scoffs in disbelief, his hand falling from your jaw to grip your arm, steadying you as you sway side to side, your head spinning. "think this is funny? can't have you fuckin' around while i'm tryin' to do my shit."

an incoherent whine of his name falls from your lips as you lean further against him, feeling the warmth of his body, which brings you a strange comfort. your chin rests against his chest, and you look up at him with wide eyes.

his tongue prods against his cheek in annoyance as he rolls his eyes, shaking his head and scoffing as he feels you sway again. then, something snaps in him, and with a sudden motion, he bends his knees slightly, hands hooking behind your thighs as he lifts you off the ground.

the abrupt positions sends a rush of dizziness through you, a surprised noise escaping your lips as you lock your legs around his waist, your arms sliding around his neck as you cling to him tightly.

you goofily grin and wave at the small circle of people who stare wide-eyed at you both as chris carries you away, his hands securely under your ass, keeping you held up.

"move. move." you hear him make demands as he pushes through the crowd, and you raise your head, trying to see where you're going, but another wave of dizziness and nausea hits you, causing you to murmur nonsense under your breath.

you tighten your arms around his neck, your cheek resting on his shoulder, lips brushing against his ear as you continue you chatter, unaware of chris arching his head away from your mouth.

"can you not?" chris grumbles, adjusting you in his arms as he navigates through the crowd, his firm grip as he walks up the staircase, each step jostling you slightly which only intensifies what you're feeling—but you can't help giggle once again, the thought of being carried away all too funny in your fuzzy head.

as chris reaches the top of the stairs, you hear a frustrated huff escape his lips as he walks to the end of the hall, pushing open his bedroom door—the music and voices from the party below fading in your ears.

once inside and standing at the end of the bed, chris loosens his grip, and you flop down comically onto the mattress, a mix of a giggle and a groan leaving you as you bounce slightly, stretching out your arms and relishing in the comforting blankets.

chris stands over you, his arms crossed and an incredulous expression on his face. "what were you drinkin', huh? how much did you have? 'cos last time i saw you, you were fine. now look at you—a fuckin' mess."

you squint at him, trying to focus your thoughts to remember. "ooone... twoo.. mmph... three—"

"yeah, yeah, shut up," he shakes his head dismissively, rubbing a hand over his face before removing his hat, running his fingers through his hair. "y'know you're gonna wake up feelin' like shit tomorrow, right? 'n i'm gonna laugh, kid. y'hear me? i'm gonna laugh at you."

you smile up at him giddily, tilting your head to the side as you giggle, "least you will be laughing."

"don't piss me off."

divider credits. @issysh3ll

© STURNIOZ

[biteyoubiteme]

I'll be quick

huening kai x fem!reader

synopsis: dress shopping with your boyfriend.

warnings: 🔞!!! slight exhibitionism, chubby reader implied, no protection, creampie mention, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 1.9k

an: thank you so much for requesting hp! im so nervous for you to read this lol I hope you like it if you don’t just put me down nicely :)) <3333

[m.list] [1kevent m.list]

“How about this one?” you ask, smoothing your hands down the front of the silk dress you wore. It was the kind of material that should not be worn with this type of underwear; your pantie line clearly visible. Your hands went sliding down over your ass as if that would make the buckled fabric disappear. “Ignore the fact I'm wearing the wrong panties,” 

You give a slow spin in the fluorescent lights, the semicircle of mirrors reflecting every angle of your dress-clad figure at you. But all you can see is the damned line from your underwear. “Actually don't answer that, I hate it,” 

“I love it,” Kai speaks up from his spot opposite the mirrors. He's leaning back with your purse in his lap, eyes tracing up and down your body as he watches the way the material clings to you. He can imagine the way it would feel under his fingers, sliding over the expanse of your thighs. 

“You always say that,” you mutter, turning your cheek to look at the dress from the back. You can see Huening watching, eyes tacked right to the outline of your underwear. “Kai,” 

“What?” he blinks up at you like he was caught. Cheeks flushed as he pulled your bag closer to his lap.

“Is it that bad?” It was late in the day, and your usual trip to the mall was fun. Both of you could spend hours going from shop to shop, no need to buy anything but to spend time together looking at all the new things in store. It was one of your favorite things to do. 

Kai would follow you around like a little puppy, letting you pick out things for him to try on. Pulling him into dressing rooms so that he could get something new to wear. Spending too much time at the sunglasses wrack, spinning the display around and around, trying on each pair, first on you then on him, giggling over the silly reflective wraparound pairs. He loved when you picked out the different things for him to put on, especially jeans, your hands sliding into the back pockets to check their depth was always his favorite part. 

You had your favorite spots at the food court, always picking the same little table every time you sat down, knees bumping as you picked over each other's meals. Kai would carry your drink while you tried on shoes, hold your bag when you tried on clothes. And most of the time having him along with you made shopping less overstimulating, you could have fun without rushing to just get the shopping over with. 

Only now that you needed a dress for an event it felt like everything was crashing down at that very moment. Nothing felt right, every dress you tried on made it feel like you wouldn't find the one. The lights now make everything look too oversaturated, the dressing room is now cold enough to make goosebumps rise along your arms, and now the stupid panty line. 

You didn't even know why you were so focused on finding the right outfit, it was a last minute decision to even go to the little dinner your friends were hosting. you didn't need something new but you wanted something new. 

“Just take them off,” Kai suggests, sweet face glowing in the lights, every little mole dotting his skin easily seen. 

The fitting rooms were in the back of the store, the long hallway sectioned off with several doors before ending right at the little platform with the mirrors you stood now. Although a few people milled around in the shop just past the corner no one was in the other changing rooms. He was suggesting an easy fix to the only problem you were having with the dress and so you took it. Even though the door to the room where you kept all your other clothes was open and waiting for you to go back inside, you just bent right there hands going up under your dress and hooking in the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down and off without lifting the dress to expose yourself. 

Kai feels all the blood rush to his face, the prickling heat slinking through his bones. It was enough to already be thinking about undressing you, but now seeing you do most of the work for him, at his suggestion, was taking him out. You tossed the fabric into the dressing room, aiming for your pile of clothes but missing, the corner of the fabric still seen from where Kai's sitting. 

“That's so much better,” you're back to sliding your hands down the silky fabric, flattening out any bumps to make sure it's lying right. You love the way it hugs your thighs, outlines the shape of your hips, the curves of your stomach, and lays against the swell of your chest. “Okay now just imagine it without a bra, I'll have to find something without straps,” 

“It's uh- it's really nice,” you look over at him in his hesitation to find that he wasn't saying it just to appease you but was finding it hard to swallow back what he really wanted to say. He was doing exactly what you asked, picturing you naked under all that silk, he could see it falling to the floor, how easy it would be to slip right off of you.  He pushed your purse closer to his growing bulge, cheeks flushing deeper when you asked, “Huening, are you blushing?” 

He loved it when you used that slightly teasing tone on him, it was as if your fingers were brushing up his neck with each word. “I think that's the one,” he was avoiding directly drawing attention to your question, not needing to think about exactly why he’s red so that he can try and wish away his erection before you guys walk out of here. 

“Okay, perfect.  I don't think I want to even try on anymore ,anyways,” you step down from the little platform, “oh, do you think we could stop at the little candy store on the corner and get the gummies we shared last time?” 

“Umhum,” he gives his usual hum in response as you close the door behind you. 

It's only then that you realize that you can't undo the zipper by yourself, he had helped you do up the back with no problem and there was no way for you to reach up to grab the zipper on your own. “Kai? Could you help me take this off?” 

It's the last thing he should be doing, he knows it as soon as he's in the dressing room with you, hand placed on your hip as he steadies you. You're just as soft as he expected, his free hand not even making it to the zipper. You watch him in the mirror in front of you, his eyes following his fingers as they make their way down gripping the outside of your thighs.“God, I love your body,” he groans, his head falling to your shoulder, lips dusting over your shoulder when you finally feel how hard he is. “You really like the dress huh?” 

“No I just love you and need you, please I'll be quick,” he whines right at the back of your ear. 

“Anyone could hear-” 

“I'll be quiet, I promise, please,” and your slight nod is all he needs to push up the back of your dress, his hand pushing between your thighs, dragging his fingers through your fold, swirling over your clit to build up your arousal. You fall forward, hands bracing yourself on the mirror, kai readjusts so that one hand is splayed across your tummy, silk spilling through his fingers. 

He’s quick to free himself from his jeans, pushing them down just enough so that he can line himself up with you, dragging his tip through your folds, catching at your entrance. You know yourself well enough to cover your mouth when he pushes in, the overwhelming stretch of him always making you whine. He's no better, his pretty face reflecting at you as his mouth opens in a silent moan when he fully seats himself inside you. His head falls into your shoulder so that he can muffle any sound that wants to escape, your back arching as his hold on your plushie hip tightens, fingers digging into the soft skin of your tummy. 

Kais intoxicatingly deep inside you, his first thrust pulls a throaty whimper for you that you can't hold back. “This was a bad idea-” you try to whisper, cutting yourself off by clamping your hand back on your mouth when he slams his hips against your ass. His breath fanning over your ear when he whispers, “You feel fucking amazing,” his trapped whimpers rumbling his chest, all the vibrations pressed to your back. He peeks in the mirror, biting his lip when he watches the way your tits bounce, hanging perfectly in view for him, “fuck- look at you,” 

His cock slides so effortlessly in and out of your needy cunt, warm fluttering walls drawing him in until he's forgetting he needs to be silent, that he shouldn't be pounding this hard, changing his orgasm so intensely that someone might hear him. 

It's the soft clapping of skin that reminds you where you are, “slow down kai- we could- we could-,” but it's then that he uses the hand on your hip to slide under the bunched fabric of your dress, to draw circles on your clit. It was an instant shock that had your knees shaking. 

“Who cares,” he's muttering, head shaking as he picks up his pace, “If anyone saw you dressed like this they would want to be right where I am, fuck, but they could never fuck you like I can, never,” his last word caught on the end of a whimper drawn out and pulled from him as he came. 

It's the look on his face, brows tightening, eyes squeezing shut as he falls apart, mixed with his steady pressure on your clit that has you tumbling over the edge after him. Your whole body flexes as he pulls you in tight to him, hand leaving your stomach to clamp over your mouth. 

Both of you are struggling to catch your breath in the now stuffy room, mirror fogged up from your hands, skin once chilled now inflamed with your post-sex afterglow. His cock still jerked even when he pulled out of you, his hand moving to try and stop the spill of your combined release. Your thighs try to close around the feeling of him brushing your sensitive clit while he leans down to pick up your discarded underwear, using them to clean you up. 

He peppers kisses all along your cheeks bunching up the soiled fabric in his hand before unzipping your dress. “I really do love this dress on you,” 

“Oh really? I couldn't tell,” you giggle, and he helps you get dressed, carrying your bags out after you, panties shoved into his back pocket. 

When you leave the store you wrap an arm around his center, going underneath his jacket to feel all his warmth. He slinks his arms around your shoulder, tugging you into his side, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “Didn't I hear you say something about getting gummies?” 

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask! thank you to @thetxtdevil @hmusunoo @hyukascampfire and @prince-jjae for proofreading/beta reading this for me ily all sm okay my little sweet baby angels I hope you get everything youve ever wanted in life and more

[sturnmeovr]

♡‧₊˚ Video Clips of Sweethearts Pregnancy - First Trimester

♡ 'who said Pepsi kills sperm?' - video length: 33 seconds

Chris holds his phone in his hand, looking into the camera as he brings a half empty Pepsi can up to his mouth, taking a long swig before double tapping his screen. The camera switches, revealing Sweethearts small figure leaning against the bathroom counter, three positive pregnancy tests placed on the counter next her. Chris smiles bright, zooming in on the pregnancy tests, and panning the camera to the mirror as he wraps an arm around her waist. He pulls her into his embrace, pressing a light kiss to her temple before ending the video. Chris makes sure to type the caption, 'who said Pepsi kills sperm??', saving the video to his camera roll, and shoving his phone into his pocket.

♡ 'yikes' - video length: 12 seconds

Chris stands in the doorway of the bathroom, running a hand thru his hair as he looks into the camera. Gut wrenching gags fill the room as Sweetheart empties the contents of her stomach into the toilet. Morning sickness was kicking her ass, and the baby didn't agree with anything she choose to eat, whether she craved it or not. Chris double taps the screen, pointing the camera in her direction before quickly double tapping it again to show his face, he plasters a sarcastic smile on lips and mouths the words, "yikes," before ending the video.

♡ 'Baby bean🧡' - video length: 47 seconds

Chris focuses the camera on Sweethearts belly, the ultrasound technician moves the camera probe across her small bump, spreading the cold gel as she keeps her eyes glued to the screen. Chris pans the camera up to Sweethearts face, she gives him a nervous smile before he redirects the camera to the ultrasound screen. A staticky heartbeat sounds thru the speaker, making a light gasp leave both of their lips in unison as the black and white blurs become easier to piece together. The ultrasound tech chuckles, "very active one we have here," she coos, clicking a few buttons to capture the right image. Once the recording is over, Chris captions it 'Baby bean🧡" and sends it to family and close friends.

♡ 'Dr. Sturniolo' - video length: 18 seconds

Sweetheart lies reclined back in a hospital bed, pointing her phone at the closed privacy curtain, she's trying her best to hold back her giggles. Chris pulls the curtain back, revealing himself dressed in a white lab coat, letting her laughter break free. He steps goofily to her bedside, snapping his blue latex gloves against his wrist before placing a hand on her knee and dramatically trying to pry open her legs, "c'mon, baby," he coos, laughter seeping thru the crack of his words, "open them legs and let Dr. Sturniolo take a look." His face fills the frame, a playful smile sown into his lips as he wiggles his eyebrows at her before she ends the video.

♡ 'who tf told her that? 😭😭' - video length: 14 seconds

Chris records the floor, his bare feet echoing off the hardwood as he pushes his bedroom door open. There she was - wearing nothing but one of his Lets Trip hoodies and her panties as she hung upside down off his bed, her face beat red from all the blood rushing to her brain, and her growing bump protruding out of his hoodie she had on, "the hell are you doing kid?" he chuckles, raised brows and a suggestive smirk on his face. Sweetheart looks at him with a sour expression before propping herself upright, "I heard that hanging upside down stops nausea." Chris gives her a funny look, ending the video, and typing 'who tf told her that? 😭😭' across the screen as a caption.

♡ 'my babymomma 🥵' - video length: 12 Seconds

A blanket draped over her shoulders as she sleepily stumbles into Matts room, leaning against the door frame, "are you coming?" Sweetheart whines at Chris who was sprawled out on his brother's bed, his phone pointed towards her with a bright smile on his face, "y'look good, baby." Once she realizes he's recording her, she covers her face with the blanket she's cocooned in, "Chris st-," the video comes to an abrupt end before she can get the words out. The captions reads: "my babymomma 🥵'

♡ 'reason 193793 why I love her' - video length: 7 seconds

"No way that's happening," Chris eggs Sweetheart on, his dirty thoughts running rampant in his mind. Sweetheart was naive, not thinking anything of his sexual innuendos. She eases the glazed donut into her mouth, only taking notice of her babydaddy's suggestive smirk and raised eyebrows after she succeeds her mission. Muffling out a, "hey!" at the end. This one of Chris' favorite videos of Sweetheart, it shows her goofy side which he absolutely adores since she's usually shy around most people.

♡ 'thank the lord!' - video length: 38 seconds

Chris pushes the box of Mcdonalds nuggets across the kitchen island, giving Sweetheart uneasy look as he focuses the camera on her. She looked drained; like Bella Swan when she was pregnant with Renesmae, she felt like it too. Sweetheart bravely opens the box of nuggets, pulling one out, and taking a small bite. She didn't care if it sent her running to the toilet, the baby growing inside her said her body needed food now. Surprisingly, the chicken nuggets didn't taste disgusting, "sweet n sour?" she croaks out, somewhat relived that baby Bean was finally a agreeing with something she ate. Chris slides her a sauce cup, Sweetheart dips her nugget before taking another bite. She looks up, giving Chris a nod of approval, seconds later he thrusts a fist into air, "thank the lord!" He felt accomplished - having suggested the nuggets to Sweetheart, rushing to McDonalds, and waiting twenty minutes in line for them.

♡ 'GYATT DAMNNN' - video length: 4 seconds

A short clip of Chris recording Sweethearts as she pushes a shopping cart thru target, zooming in on her ass as she walked down the baby clothes aisle. Chris admired what pregnancy did to her body, adding weight to all the right places. Her skin glowed and boobs sat on top of her bump so perfectly, but her ass was his favorite part. He’d give her ten babies if her ass looked like that every time she was pregnant. He captions the video, "GYATT DAMNNN' and saves it to his 'my eyes only' on snapchat.

♡ 'tbh my biggest flex is nutting in her' - video length: 11 seconds

The clips starts with Sweetheart lying in bed, her glasses pushed to her nose with Cheez-its scattered over her barely noticeable belly bump. She takes a sip from her pink stanley cup, plucking one of the squared orange crackers to plop in her mouth, making Chris beam from behind the camera. He loved her so much. Chris marks the caption, 'tbh my biggest flex is nutting in her,' and sends it to all of his close circle, including poor Mary Lou.

♡‧₊˚ Cheys Note - I want to give credits to @kiemiu & @phone4pills for the video clips idea bc their posts were literal perfection and inspired me so much to do this! 😍 I absolutely loovvee the idea of this and may do something else like this in the future if everyone likes it! <3

Babydaddy!Chris Masterlist

Masterlist

Taglist (comment to be added)

Send me asks or suggestions about my au's! <3

[jesuistrestriste]

PLSSSS art’s eyes would roll into the back of his head while he’s eating you out, he’d be so pussy drunk. mumbling “i could stay here for hours”

(oh my god)

art had never been shy about how much he enjoyed eating pussy. well, actually, that's a lie.

the night of the first time he went down on you, the pads of his fingers had been rubbing circles over your clit and your hand was massaging him in his gym shorts. tongues and teeth and lips were mashing together in the most sloppy way possible.

a few minutes of this was enough for him, and he had quickly pulled back and spoke up to ask if he could "taste you" (so that he wouldn't have to see the look on your face when he came prematurely from your touch). his cheeks were burning a bright red and he could barely look you in the eye, but that was years ago now. two things had happened since then:

he'd gotten way, way less nervous about asking if he could go down on you

and he'd gotten way, way, way better at the actual act

he could cum just from making your thighs shake. he could cum just from tasting you on his lips. he didn't even have to touch his cock.

nowaways, he'll slide down onto his knees or his stomach, depending on where this was happening, and he'll look up to your eyes and say the magic words that always get your core aching. "please, can I eat you out?"

you'd never deny him. actually, you were sure that there had never been an incident in the past when you'd refused his mouth on your cunt.

as soon as you say "yes" or a yes-adjacent response that indicated consent, he'd fist whatever clothing you had on, nearly tear it off, and then smother himself in you. he was always so greedy and hungry when it came to this particular sex act, and it was easy to guess that he had an oral fixation; he loved things in his mouth, and he loved pleasing you with it. his nose would be bumping your clit as he licked and drooled over your entrance.

he'd take his time too, of course. making sure to savor your taste and the way your hands always came down to tug on his hair and the feeling of you clenching around his tongue. it got him leaking in no time flat.

if your hands tugged harshly enough on his curly blonde locks, you could pull his face back to watch his brows knit up as his eyes rolled back. he'd whine softly against your folds, like you were pulling him from his last meal. he'd only hook his hands under your thighs and force his mouth back against you properly, slobbering and humming as he fluttered his tongue over your clit.

"jesus, art," you'd giggle between gasps, "relax, it's not going anywhere.."

he'd shake his head and moan into you.

"can't— can't help it... i could stay here for hours..."

-

art when reader is done w him:

[tinycoffeeroom]

girlfriend of the enemy | charles leclerc

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

tags: max verstappen x reader, thoughts of infidelity, max sucks a lil in this i'm sorry

part 2 | part 3

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You knew the novelty had worn off. Max was known for picking up things that were shiny and brand new to him and dropping them without a moment's notice. You just never thought you would be one of them. The two of you had met in the paddock, you having been invited by your reporter friends. Instantly the two of you had hit it off, chatting the whole night and enjoying each other's company. 

That was 7 years ago. 

Now the two of you were attending the end of the race year celebrations but you may as well be strangers. 

He’d swirled you around his friends, eye candy on his arm to match the fact that his face was plastered across the entire room. After he was sure everyone had seen the two of you together, he subtly brushed your arm off and went to talk with Daniel and Checo who were standing by the bar. 

Taking a seat at one of the tables strewn out across the large dance hall, you picked nervously at the acrylics on your nails. Max knew events like this made you nervous, with the large crowds full of people you barely knew. At the start of your relationship, he never used to leave you alone, constantly having a hand around your waist or resting on your knee so you knew he was there, but it was as if he no longer cared. You hated this side of him, missing the funny and attentive man you fell in love with. 

Drivers passed back and forth behind your chair, often bumping it accidentally as they walked, too deep in conversation with their walking buddy to notice they had knocked you. It had been at least 2 hours since you had seen Max, having watched him stalk off to a dark corner with the two men he was chatting with at the bar. You knew you looked miserable, but you were so tired of hiding how you truly felt, how Max made you feel. 

A hand brushes the back of your chair as someone takes a seat beside you. A soft voice barely audible over the loud music pumping through the room, close enough that their breath brushes across your neck. 

“Not having fun?”

You jump at the proximity, whipping round to come face to face with Max’s longtime frenemy, Charles Leclerc. He simply smiled, either not noticing how close the two of you were or simply ignoring it.  

You’d come to know Charles through the years you’d spent as a wag. He was always polite, full of kind smiles and funny anecdotes. You knew he wasn’t a fan of these things either, choosing to excuse himself early, either with his teammates or Oscar whenever things got a little too raucous. His two closest friends on the grid, Daniel and George, were more open to the party atmosphere, often getting to the point of drunkenness where you had to mother them a little, rounding up the giggling boys and wrestling them into an Uber. 

You loved chatting with the group of friends, never having a dull moment as each of them tried to outdo the other with a joke or a roast. However, you were always a little more drawn to the Monagesque, finding his warm voice and awkward jokes lightened the tension that festered deep inside whenever Max abandoned you at one of these events. 

You smiled back at Charles in the present, toying with the Tiffany bracelet around your wrist. “Not particularly. Never really liked these kind of events.”

If it was anyone else who had asked, you would have lied. Various excuses of not feeling well or simply needing a moment to yourself, but Charles had never once shown judgement towards your lack of enthusiasm for these nights. 

“Where’s Max?” His eyes flick around the room, elbow coming to rest on the bar. He must realise his mistake straight away as he pulls away, the stickiness of the counter following him. 

You sigh, reaching to drain the last of your mojito. “Fuck knows. Last time I saw him was just after 9.” 

He raises his eyebrows, turning to catch the attention of the bar staff. “Another mojito and a vodka soda, please.” Turning back to you, he checks his watch. “It’s 2am.”

You return the eyebrow raise, welcoming the new drink he hands you. “Yeah, it is. He’s probably with Daniel and Checo if you want him.” 

You were used to people approaching you just to get to the other. Nothing new but it still irked you a little that you were only ever seen as an extension of the great Max Verstappen, never just y/n l/n. 

Smiling softly, he raises his glass for you to clink yours against. “Nah, I’m fine where I am.”

–

The hours passed quickly, the two of you hunched over the bar as you tried to make out what the other was saying over the loud bass of the music. You could lie and say your heart didn’t flutter every time he laughed, eyes sparkling as he listened intently to every dumb joke you made. It made you feel a little bit sick, the butterflies in your tummy stabbing tiny little daggers into you as you try to remember the last time Max had ever spent time with you like this. 

He was a busy man, with the racing and Twitch and the various other events Redbull required him to do, the two of you rarely saw each other. You tried to organise monthly date nights in order to reignite the spark you once had but every time Max texted that he couldn’t come, not even mentioning the word sorry, you felt a little piece of your heart fall away. 

Through some kind of sick manifestation, Max rounded the corner of the bar, flagged by a barely conscious Daniel and a still chipper Checo. 

“Charles! Nice to see you!” Checo was his ever lovely self, dapping Charles up and pulling him into a brief hug. Daniel barely acknowledged either of you, slumping into the chair on the other side of you and drunkenly resting his head on the back of your shoulder. Max was neutral, eyes darting between the two of you. 

“Yeah, nice to see you Charles. I see you’ve met my Mrs.”

You hated that term. “Mrs”. Maybe if he showed any kind of interest in actually taking the next step and marrying you after 7 years together maybe you wouldn’t mind. He knew you hated it to some extent, having used it often as a joke in media events to make you roll your eyes and send him a cheeky text. But now the word just grated you, imaginary hackles rising at his standoffish tone. 

Charles smiles at the two, briefly eyeing Daniel from where he was snoring on your shoulder. “Yeah, me and y/n have met quite a few times at these things. Normally when I’m too tired to deal with Daniel and George’s shit.” He aims the last sentence towards you, joining you in a small chuckle. 

Max laughed sarcastically, hand coming to grip your free shoulder. The strength of it made you shrink slightly, hating the possessiveness it held. “Well, it’s getting late, I better get her home.” His head nods down at you, the resignation in his voice a poor attempt at humour but it lands flat. 

Charles eyes him, then the hand gripped harshly on your shoulder and finally lands on you, eyes warm with a tint of ice. “Sure. It was nice to chat to you, Y/N. Don’t be a stranger.” He rises from his seat, hand raised to deliver a half hearted fist bump to Max and Checo before he disappears, swallowed by the horde of people still present at the event. 

You grab your bag as Max shakes the sleeping Daniel on your shoulder. The two of you work side by side to sling an arm of Daniel’s around each of your shoulders, Max thankfully taking the brunt of the weight. Silently, you make your way to Max’s car, humming at the drunken gibberish from the man hanging between the two of you. 

As you settle into the passenger's seat of Max’s car, you can’t help but wish it was Charles sliding in beside you. 

–

👤 maxverstappen1 Liked by redbullracing, charles_leclerc and 592,048 others

y/nstagram eindejaarsfeest met mijn lief en jouw wereldkampioen ♥️ (end of year party with my love and your world champion)

fan she’s so gorgeous, maxverstappen1 can you fight? ♥️ 39,927 others

redbullracing never mind the trophy, we think you’re the real prize ↳ fan damn admin got rizz ↳ redbullracing 😎

fan why does max never like her photos anymore i miss the “here before the dutchman” jokes ↳ fan they’ve been together 7 years maybe the honeymoon phase has just worn off? ↳ fan idk even when we see them in the paddock he brushes her off all the time  ↳ fan i thought we all agreed to stop prying into their relationship?  ↳ fan true but 7 years and no ring?? I’d have wifed her up immediately 

charles_leclerc si belle ↳ y/nstagram merci charlie :) ↳ fan ariana what are you doing here?  ↳ fan he’s been in her likes / comments since he joined f1, i’m pretty sure they’re friends ↳ fan he always comments “beautiful” or smth sappy on her posts… ngl i kinda ship them ↳ fan saying that on a post where she’s just called max her love… seek help ↳ fan damn sorry that i just wanna see her be treated the way she deserves???? She posts max nearly weekly and the last time she graced his ig was like 6 months back ??? AND he never likes / comments on her posts even when she tags him AND he ignores her in the paddock like all the time ↳ fan he’s a 4x world champion and the face of redbull, he’s a busy man damn 

-

-

Another country, another race, another day of Max ignoring you. You’d always been understanding of the fact that, as the current world champion, he had a lot of pressure on his rather wide shoulders. People called for him wherever he turned and he’d follow, giving piece by piece of him to whoever needed his attention. Race engineers, press, other drivers, even Christian himself. In the earlier years, he’d drag you along with him, hand wrapped firmly around yours as he discussed better ways to reduce drag or answer the same god damn question from the same 10 faces you saw at every race. 

Nowadays, he’d barely look your way as he gets out of the car, instead letting you roam around of your own volition. You often found yourself walking up and down the paddock, looking at all the other drivers who would throw a loving glance to their girlfriends as they rush around their garages, or drop a small kiss to the crown of their heads as they pass by to the back rooms or even something as small as readjusting their stance as they spoke to their engineers so they could press a thigh or an arm against their other half. 

So far you’d passed Alpine; exchanging quick hugs with Kika and Flavy before they went to the back rooms, McLaren; where Lando and you had exchanged a quick fist bump whilst you swiped away his questions about Max’s whereabouts, and Haas where both Kevin and Nico had waved brightly at you as they entertained their children on the garage floor. Looking up, you find yourself standing in front of the Ferrari garages. More specifically, in front of Charles’. 

Whether the halt in your footsteps has been subconscious or not, you couldn’t stop yourself from hoping for a glimpse of Charles. Flashes of red passed your vision, engineers and strategists moving amongst one another like a well oiled machine, but no sign of white fireproofs or padded red race suits. 

Sighing softly, you turn on your heels, ready to head back to the Red Bull garages where you’ll inevitably end up being forced into putting on a headset and a fake smile when it’s race time. 

Eyes focused on the ground, you walk slowly away from the Ferrari garages, not wanting to see all the loving couples around you. Only three steps down, a pair of race boots pop up in your vision, eyes trailing up until you meet Charles’ worried gaze. 

“Y/N, what are you doing all the way over here? It’s nearly race time?” His head quirks a little to the left, reminding you of an inquisitive puppy. 

It’s enough to bring a small smile to your face, eyes flicking over his face. “Hey Charles. Honestly, I didn’t even realise I’d made it this far into enemy territory until I looked up and saw your garage.” 

He matches your teasing smile, nudging his foot with one of yours playfully. “I wouldn’t say enemy, just unfamiliar.” He takes a moment to give you a once over, eyes clinging to the ever present furrow of your brows. “Where’s Max?”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you huff quietly. “God knows. Last I saw, he was in a very heated debate with GP, something to do with the rear wing.”

He nods in response. “Does he know you’re in enemy territory?” He teases softly, aware of the way your expression darkened at the mention of your boyfriend. 

“I don’t think he would realise if I upped and left to be honest.” The second you said it, you regretted it. Charles has enough to worry about on race day without you piling your relationship problems onto him. “Sorry, ignore me. Must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed or something.” You laugh unconvincingly, trying to avoid his knowing eyes. 

He’s quiet for a moment, pensive silence spreading between the two of you. It makes your skin crawl, all too aware that he was probably already clued into your crumbling relationship. You wanted him to make a joke, to nudge his shoulder with yours as he quips about how you should join the other side for once. You wanted him to make you smile, knowing he’s been the only one to do so in so many years. 

A knot sits heavy in your stomach. Wanting another man to make you smile like your boyfriend isn’t standing 20 feet away. Another man who was the best friend of your boyfriend. 

Yours and Max’s relationship wasn’t all arguing and sneaking into bed whilst the other slept far on the other side, but the only times he made you laugh recently was in front of cameras, smiles too large and laughter too loud to be believable to either of you. 

With Charles, it was easy. Almost like breathing. He was still a little awkward with you, jokes sometimes landing flat but the way he would wince and chuckle at his own bad lines were enough to have you laughing loudly and unapologetically. 

You needed to get out of here before you said or did something you’d regret. Luckily, Xavi came to your rescue, spotting Charles out on the paddock and rushing over to sling a friendly arm around his shoulder. “Charles, vamos! We have to get ready for the race. Sorry to steal him from you, Y/N, but I can’t risk him sharing trade secrets with the girlfriend of the enemy.” He pairs the teasing jab with a wink at both of you, the arm hooked around Charles’ neck pulling him gently away. 

Charles’ throws a smile over his shoulder, waving a hand goodbye as he’s dragged into conversation with Xavi. You wave back, energy not quite matching his. 

It was a throwaway comment, something every team said when you’d chat with their racers, normally coupled with a squeeze of the shoulder or a friendly grin. Charles had even said the same thing himself two minutes prior. But something about it being Charles’ race engineer left a sour taste in your mouth. 

To Charles, you were just the girlfriend of the “enemy”, and that’s all you could be. 

-

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a/n: i swear i'm working on a happier one for charles' monaco win buuuut before i spend another 2 weeks finishing this off - anyone interested in a part 2?

[sttoru]

toji taking care of newborn megumi while reader sleeps?

⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff. gumi isnt rlly a newborn but we ball. use of curse words teehee

“tch—i’m really regretting buyin’ this thing.” toji was running out of patience as he reads the instructions on the piece of paper in his hands. it was all so vague; he’s questioning himself for even trying to figure this stuff out in the first place.

the small coos and babbles coming from megumi sound throughout the living room, the baby sitting in the pillow fort that his dad made him. the correct name would actually be ‘pillow jail’, since the fort wasn’t built for megumi’s entertainment—it was mainly to keep the little boy confined so toji could peacefully work on setting up the playhouse.

your husband was so intensly focused on putting the playhouse together to the point that he didn’t even notice the little thief escaping his self-made jail.

megumi was crawling on his hands and knees, his palms making soft ‘pat’ sounds as they came in contact with the cold floor, pouty lips forming a smile as he crawled his way over to his dad. toji had his back facing megumi, giving the kid a good opportunity to sneak up on him.

“fuck.” toji curses idly as his hand slipped and his finger bumped against his own face. not thinking much about that slip-up, the man continues to put the parts together, until he feels something tugging at his shirt from behind.

toji glances down and spots his son trying to climb up on his back—the journey up to toji’s broad shoulders was like climbing a mountain for such a little thing.

“phack!” the cute voice from below repeats what it has heard with confidence. megumi used all of his strength to reach up to his dad’s shoulders, repeating the used swear word proudly, a series of ‘phack! phack! phack!’ echoing louder in toji’s ears with each movement upwards.

the kid eventually reaches his destination, head placed right next to toji’s, chubby arms circling around his dad’s neck—basically hanging on for dear life.

toji wasn’t even concerned about megumi repeating that bad word over and over. how his son had managed to break free from his confinement was of more importance. his green eyes land on the destroyed pillow fort behind his back and your husband couldn’t help but chuckle. almost proudly.

“i see y’re already outsmarting your dad, kiddo.” toji grins, one hand coming up to stabilise megumi on his back. the baby looks over his father’s shoulder, seemingly inspecting what he was building. toji sighs as his free hand holds onto the piece of paper that included the instructions; “maybe ya could’ve even helped me build this shitty thing if ya knew how to read.”

“sjiddy!”

it was as if megumi was purposely only picking out the curse words. toji chuckles at this and—unlike any other parent—encourages his child to continue for his own entertainment.

“mhm—tha’s right. repeat after me, son.” the dark-haired man nods with a smug grin and points at the half-built playhouse, making sure megumi knew what he was talking about, “that thing is shitty.”

“sjiddy! sjiddy!” the kid repeats loudly and giggles as his father ruffles his hair afterwards in a ‘job-well-done’ manner.

“good boy.” toji laughs softly, moving megumi over to his lap so it’d be more comfortable for the both of them, “y’r momma is gonna kill me if she hears you say such things, though.”

megumi tilts his head up until it rested against toji’s torso, big eyes glancing at the face hovering on top of his; “mama? mama ‘eepy.”

“no, mama isn’t.”

toji freezes in place, megumi gasps in delight. you had awoken from your nap and decided to check in on your husband and son whom you had left alone for a few hours.

and, apparently, you couldn’t leave toji and megumi alone without it ending in your kid picking up on his dad’s bad habits.

you put your hands on your hips and glared at toji. he knew what time it was and he was not about to sit through another lecture. the last time you gave him an earful, he had to sit and listen to you scold him for almost an hour.

“shit.. gotta run.” toji immediately grabs tightly onto megumi, gets up and prepares to flee—not even realising that he cursed. again.

“sjit!” megumi giggles happily, the boy just having fun as his dad runs around with him, unaware of the reason nor of the meaning behind the words he was repeating.

“mama shit!” toji’s eyes widened as he heard megumi combine the two words; mama—megumi’s favourite word—and shit, the bad word your son had just learnt.

your husband knew that that would only increase your fury more and thus shushes his kid while running around the house—your quick footsteps just meters behind them;

“crap. shut it, megumi.”

“crap! dada crap!”

“…”

guess he had it coming.

[xoluvx]

this is what makes us girls; b.eilish

[▸] this is what makes us girls by lana del rey smut

It was obvious. It was obvious from the beginning you were destined to be best friends. When you walked through the door, your eyes locked with hers. Those tantalizing blue eyes; lids slightly hooded like she was disinterested in everything and everyone. Everyone...

Except you.

When she saw you, she sat a little taller. The pamphlet in her hand cascaded on the bed. The corners of her lips curled as her hand came up to give you a small wave. There was something about the way her eyes shone in the sparkling rays of sun that snuck in through the curtains... like a scene in a movie. Everything moved in slow motion.

Naturally, you dropped your bag to the floor. With your lips parted, you choked a small 'hey'.

Your new roommate.

And that's when the beginning of the end begun.

You quickly became partners in crime. You sat on her lap while doing her eyeliner. You picked out outfits and determined which were too slutty. You danced in the overwhelming heat of bodies that bumped into one another. You drank questionable red liquid out of red plastic cups. You held her jaw forcing her to chug. You ran and held hands giggling out of breath as the cops raided parties. You laughed and fell into each other so naturally. You whispered in the dead of night about crushes and girls that reeked of desperation.

You were inseparable.

Not only did she dance by your side at every party, she sat next to you at every house meeting. She slept in your bed, even though hers was only a few feet away. She rubbed your back until your eyelids fluttered closed. She caressed your face when she thought you were asleep. She looked at you like you were the only twinkling star in the sky because for her, you were. She'd felt it that first day she laid eyes on you.

It'd all been so easy. Uncomplicated. There was never a time in the day you weren't together. Never a time in the day you weren't touching. Her hand on your lower back, your hand on the nape of her neck. Whispering in each other's ears. Laughing at inside jokes.

Lips brushing tentatively one drunken night after stumbling into your room. You both stripped your clothes too tired to take off your makeup or shower. Nothing unusual. Except when you tripped and she held your waist, her fingers dug into your skin and your heart flipped. Trying to giggle past the feeling, the sparks were too powerful as you straightened yourself still numb from the alcohol. When you searched her face, your eyes spoke silently in agreement.

When she kissed you, it was like a million little stars sparkling on your tongue. She tasted sweet like candy. Tongues dyed red from the mysterious concoction of the night. They tussled messily as you hummed and cupped her face. Her fingers dug into your waist pushing you towards your bed; movements so natural. Bodies fitting perfectly as she hovered over you. Thigh nuzzled between your legs.

"Is this okay?" she whispered softly, her breath warm on your face as her hand ran down your thigh leaving a trail of fire. It led to the back of your knee where she stopped and waited for your approval. You nodded pulling her face down. She hooked her arm under your leg grinding on your body as you moaned in her mouth. You swayed your hips matching her movements haphazardly. Lips touching but not kissing; just longing to feel closer. Noses brushing and clashing as her moans mixed with yours.

The overwhelming friction between your bodies was suffocating. You choked on your saliva. Your eyelids fluttered from the tightness growing in your core as your clothed pussies rubbed and touched in ways you hadn't imagined. As hands roamed bodies and lips brushed intimately spilling your deepest darkest desires on her tongue each time you moaned her name.

The nights she spent in your bed held so much meaning for her. There was meaning in her caresses, in the snuggling and silent whispers in the dead of night. To the laughs and silly remarks.

"What a loser," she snorted snuggling into your duvet. You didn't laugh. You stared at the ceiling while holding your breath too scared to make a sound; to disrupt the natural order of things.

"Wait-" she raised her head, eyes searching for your face. It was dimly lit by the moonlight shining through the open curtains.

"You-" she cleared her throat looking at you questionably. You were still avoiding her gaze. You felt flushed and out of breath. How could you explain to her that you didn't think he was a loser? How did you tell her that you'd been secretly texting him? Unbeknownst to your best friend...your partner in crime. The person you slept next to every night as if it held no meaning.

"You like him?" There was a frightening softness to her voice as she sat up. Her previously pin straight hair was messy, eyeliner smeared. You'd both been too drunk to walk straight, let alone shower and get ready for bed. Without hesitation your clothes had been stripped and you'd slipped into bed like so many nights before. The scent of lingering alcohol and fading perfume mixed with the proximity of your bodies as you sighed and covered your face with your blanket.

You were too much of a coward to look at her. To see the hurt on her face and how hard she was trying to mask it. To flip things into a bad decision and not a life altering event.

"He doesn't deserve you, you know?" She muttered softly before aggressively pushing the covers off her body. The action stung and you flinched shutting your eyes under the blanket. The breeze coming through the window was harsh on your bare thighs. The silence deafening as she laid on her own bed. Bed that'd remained untouched for so many nights.

When you glanced in her direction, her back was facing you. The outline of her body prominent in the shadows of the moonlight. You inhaled, blinking away your tears as you turned to face the wall. Wall decorated with memories that were coming down like ashes on your shivering body.

The nights that followed were cold. She was cold.

You hardly saw her anymore. Her bed laid empty and not because she was in yours, but because she was never home. You were wondering if she'd been a figment of your imagination. If you'd made her up as some coping mechanism.

Except everyone noticed the shift too. Everyone noticed her absence. She arrived late to meetings and events. So much so one of your sisters told you they were considering probation if she didn't get her shit together. You harbored that thought nightly. She wouldn't be your roommate anymore and maybe that was for the best. You were tired of hoping she'd show up every night. Hoping you could catch a glimpse of her or recite the speech you rehearsed in your head every night you felt her absence.

So when you stumbled into your room right past midnight, and she hauntingly sat on her bed, your heart caught in your throat. All the air was knocked out of your lungs and it felt like you'd forgotten how to breath. The pain was so overwhelming you lashed out.

"What are you doing here?" you snarled through your tears. Mascara stained your cheeks in a cruel turn of events. The one night you weren't hoping for her return was the night she sat on her bed like the first day you met.

"This is my room?" she replied dryly only glancing at you momentarily. Enough to see you crumbling. She shifted her gaze back to the laptop, her face glowing in the fluorescent light. Bottom lip tucked under her teeth as she scrolled mindlessly.

"Fuck you," you sobbed struggling to breath as you turned your back to her. You pulled on your covers, screaming in frustation when it caught on your foot as you tried climbing into bed.

How dare she? How dare she talk to you like that when she abandoned you? No explanation. No chance for you to reason. Just one stupid night talking about one stupid boy had ruined everything. You hated to admit that she was right, but she was. He hadn't been worth it.

"He was an asshole, wasn't he?" she whispered biting on her thumb watching you curiously. You hyperventilated, gasping for air, feeling the words sink to the pit of your stomach because she was right. She'd been right.

He didn't deserve you, but maybe she did.

Turning, you watched her through your blurry vision. Shoulders slumped and defeated.

"You were right," you choked before sniffling and wiping your nose. The tears ugly again. Your chest felt tight, like you couldn't breathe. Your vision was hazy tracing her body as she closed her laptop and slid off the bed. When she reached yours, she lifted the covers and laid next to you engulfing you in a protective embrace as you broke down in her arms.

The familiar feeling washed over you; so warm and fuzzy. The memories of nights spent with her hands on your waist, brushing under your shirt crashed onto you like a tidal wave. Overwhelming and powerful. She held you with purpose unlike so many others. It all made sense. Why'd she'd shut you out. For her it wasn't just nights spent in your bed. It was so much more.

Your arms broke free of their entrapment, hands cupping her face. You batted your tear-clumped lashes as your eyes focused on her lips. So plump and inviting. They parted and you dove forward capturing them with yours. She groaned and gripped your waist tighter, pulling you closer as your fingers dug gently into her cheeks.

The kiss was desperate and messy. Tongues pressing together. Touching for the sake of touching. Hands roaming. Wanting to feel and memorize every intimate corner of your bodies. Her fingers curled around the bottom of your hoodie and you moaned lifting your arms allowing her to remove it. She peeled every layer of clothing until you were naked under her body.

You bared your body and soul on that bed. Offering it to her. Surrendering to your desires.

Your eyes followed her hands. They tugged at the bottom of her shirt, lifting it over her head. Breasts bare and breaking free. Skin so milky, glistening in the fairy lights. Her thumbs hooked in the waistband of her sweats as she pulled them off in a swift movement. Her naked frame danced in your irises as your chest filled with butterflies.

Swallowing, you reached out for her.

Your fingers locked as she nuzzled herself between your legs. She brought her body down. Skin touching. Eyes locked. Lips parted. Hearts on fire.

When she kissed you, you melted completely giving into her touch. She squeezed your hands and you lifted your hips wanting to feel her press down on your body. When she brushed your lips, your fingers unlocked and her hand slithered between your bodies. You hummed in delight when her finger ran between your folds.

"Billie," you whispered in her ear desperate for her touch. Desperate to be hers. Only hers.

Billie groaned and buried her head in your neck as her finger found your clit. The sweetest sounds fell from your lips and on her shoulder as your wet mouth pressed on her skin. Her finger rotated on your sensitive bud as you swayed your hips. Your legs shaking.

She wrapped her arm around your head. Fingers digging into your scalp as she kissed you like it was the last time. She filled you with passion as her finger slid inside your entrance. She muffled your moans with her mouth, swallowing them whole as she tore you open.

It was glorious and wonderful and sweet and hot and tight and it burned in all the right places. You clenched around her digits as you shut your eyes feeling the warmth spread throughout your body. You wrapped your legs around her waist lifting your hips to match her movements. She pulled you down on her hand, still holding your head. Her lips were so messy on your cheek as your whimpers fueled her desire.

You thought it couldn't get better than this, but then she kissed your lips and your neck and her tongue ran down your body leaving a trail of embers that led to your throbbing core. When her tongue ran between your folds you swore you saw the milky way flash behind your lids.

There was so much you wanted to say. So much you wanted to shout, but all that came out were cries and sobs and whimpers as you buried your hand in her hair. Her silky strands left small cuts in your fingers. Reminders of the night she marked you as her own.

Giving you a taste of real life.