#but at the womens it's always smiles and taking pictures with each other like every single time 😭❤

[psychic-waffles]

every womens medal ceremony is just so full of joy

[va1entinesg4l]

you’re my fucking star

pairing: charles leclerc x model!reader

summary: what happens when Charles meets his celebrity crush?

warning: tiny bit of fluff, f! receiving, slight breeding kink

Charles always had his eye on you. Even during his teenage years, watching you grow up to be a model. In interviews, he’s mentioned having a crush on you, how he’d wish to meet you. He’s been to a few shows to watch you, you were absolutely stunning. He’s even bought a few magazines that has you on the cover.

He was staring again, a Nova Cora crêpe satin dress made by Vivienne Westwood hugging your curves perfectly, your hair flowing down your shoulders, your smile lighting the room up. He takes notice of every single detail about you.

The party was at the Mclaren driver’s house and you were invited. Lando and you had been childhood best friends and he always invited you to watch his races which to everyone’s surprise, they figured you were both dating which made Charles’s blood boil.

“You alright, mate?” Charles snaps out of his trance when he heard Carlos’s voice, turning around to see him handing a glass of champagne.

“M’ fine.” Charles grumps as he downs his champagne, keeping his sharp gaze on you when Lando comes from behind, placing a palm on your back.

Carlos shrugs at his grumpiness before heading off for another glass of champagne. Charles was left in his thoughts, wondering if he should make a move.

You could feel Charles’s gaze burning a hole through you, little did he know. Lando knew that he had a thing for you but he never says anything about it. You excuse yourself from the conversation as you head to the restroom and Charles took that opportunity to follow you.

Your heart slightly jumps when you see Charles leaning against the wall, straightening his back when he sees you come out of the bathroom.

He clears his throat, “Sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you. I was just-”

“Following me?”

Charles’s cheek burn with embarrassment, quickly denying the fact that he was following and watching you. You smile at his expression, ‘cute’ you thought.

“I just need to use to restroom as well.” What a shit lie, Charles. He mentally curses in French, making you giggle. “At the women’s bathroom?”

“N-No, I um. I wanted to ask if you’d join me for dinner tomorrow night.” Charles was nervous, it might seem a little rushed, considering he followed you to the bathroom just to ask you out, he could’ve waited till the night ended but he didn’t.

Your heart flutters in surprise and so did your answer.

“I’d love to, Charles.” Charles couldn’t help but let out a sheepish smile, his heart feeling giddy.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night then.” He smiles before you give him a nod, walking back to the crowd as he watches the way your body moves.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It was the night you were having dinner with Charles. You liked Charles, more than you expected. Those sneaky glances he gave when he thought you wouldn’t notice, those nice gestures he made whenever he tried to impress you.

You felt the same way he did, ever since he made his debut in formula 2. The first time you actually met him was when Lando won his first podium, everyone was rushing to take pictures of him, bumping into each other when you bumped into Charles, a digital camera of yours that you dearly loved slipping from your hands.

It broke and Charles couldn’t help but feel bad. You shrugged it off saying it was fine but Charles insisted on buying a new one for you, which he did.

He left it for you in the Mclaren garage, a small apology note that wrote,

‘sorry for breaking your camera, hope this one fills new memories, C.L.’

Reading that note instantly made you fell for him. You never told anyone, not even Lando.

You arrive at the restaurant Charles insisted on going, walking inside as you glance around to look for him. There he was.

The sight of him wearing a suit with those glasses made your clit throb, you kept a straight face before walking over to him. He sees you and his smile beams, he gets up from his seat, pulling your chair out for you to sit.

You smile, giving him a small thanks as he sits down as well.

“tu es magnifique..” you look beautiful. He mutters, his gaze taking every inch of you, his heart pounding in his chest.

“tu es beau toi-même.” you look handsome yourself. Charles stops, looking at you in surprise. He didn’t expect you to speak French. “You speak French?” He grins.

You laugh softly with a nod, shrugging. “You could say that.”

Charles lets out another grin, the love of his life a gorgeous woman who spoke French as well, you have him on a tight leash.

This is going to be a long night.

You were glad dinner went well with Charles tonight. You both spoke about your dreams, your hobbies, your careers, anything to know about each other. You listened to him explain about his love for driving, how it’s because of his late father.

You were both on the way back to his apartment, the ride silent as the soft music plays through the radio.

Charles sneaks a glance when he notices the way you bit your lip, the way your thighs were clenched. Blood rushing straight to his cock. He keeps his attention to the road, his mind filled with the thoughts of fucking you.

He parked his car in the driveway, opening the car door for you as he leads you inside his apartment. It was comfy, there were pictures of him hung up on the wall. His trophies arranged nicely on the cabinet.

He watches the way your hips move and he swallows hard, trying his best not to bend you over the couch and fuck you.

“Do you want anything to drink?” He asks and you shake your head, “I’m alright, thanks.”

Your breathing becomes shaky when you face Charles, his body moving towards yours as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and you swore you felt his hard cock pressed against your clothed pussy.

“Charles..” you whisper, your breath hitting his.

“Hm?” his eyes find yours, his fingers sliding down your back, goosebumps starting to form on your skin. He’s wanted this for years, to touch you, to taste you.

“Fuck me, Charles.”

That’s all he wanted to hear. He lifts you up, your legs wrapped around his waist before he lays you down on the couch, pulling your legs apart before he starts kissing the insides of your thighs.

His nose nudges your clothed pussy before he rips your panties off, sucking on your clit.

You throw your head back, letting out pornographic moans as he continues to lick your pussy.

“So fucking sweet.” He murmurs, sucking harder which makes you clamp your thighs around his head but his hands keeps a firm grip on them to hold you down.

You were a whimpering mess, so close to coming. Charles then slides in two fingers and you moan, gripping his hair tighter before he groans. He could feel you clenching around his fingers and it only takes five seconds for you to cum when he whispers.

“Come for me, jolie fille.” pretty girl. And you do, your cum dripping down his fingers and he licks them clean, groaning at how sweet you taste. “So sweet, baby.”

Charles then undos his pants, letting it drop to the floor. His cock hard, the tip red and swollen before he slides inside of your slick, wet pussy. “Charles!” you gasp, shutting your eyes as he starts to fucks you.

“You’re so fucking tight, mon ange.” my angel. He pants out, his glasses fogging up made him look hotter and you lean in, smashing your lips against his, his tongue slipping in to taste you.

You both were close to coming, the sound of your skins slapping filled the room. Charles couldn’t take it anymore as he whimpers out.

“Cum for me, baby.” You let out a cry of pleasure, arching your back as you finally cum. His cum shooting inside of you, loading your pussy up.

He kisses your forehead gently before holding you in his arms, both your breaths heavy when he whispers.

“I think I’m in love.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

hope you guys enjoyed it!!

[pucksandpower]

Pollinated

Day 11 → Sex Pollen 💋 Max Verstappen

Warnings: 18+ content and dubious consent

Kinktober Masterlist

“You’ve got a stack waiting for you.” Alan leans on the edge of your desk, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He’s holding a bundle of envelopes, some thick with scribbled messages, some thin and printed with clean, crisp fonts.

Your PR officer’s eyebrows raise in mock exasperation as he shakes them at you. “How do you even have time to race with all these fans wanting a piece of you?”

You grin, setting down your coffee and wiping your hands on your pants. “That’s the problem of being so popular, Alan. It’s a curse, really.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s a real burden. Everyone loving you.”

“Someone’s gotta do it.”

He drops the stack in front of you with a soft thud. “Take your time. I’ll be back in a bit.” His tone is teasing, but you catch the flicker of something more serious underneath, like he’s reminding you there’s more work to be done after this.

You roll your eyes as he walks off. You love this part of your day — the letters, the drawings, the fan art from kids who see something in you that makes them believe they can be here too. They’re always so personal, full of energy, like they’re rooting for you from their living rooms or school desks.

You flick through the pile, reading the familiar opening lines. Dear Y/N, you’re such an inspiration or I love watching you race! Your heart lifts as you come across a brightly colored drawing from a girl named Chloe, of you standing on a podium, arms raised in victory. It makes you smile so wide your cheeks hurt a little. You can practically hear the little girl’s voice, excitedly telling her parents, “That’s gonna be me one day.”

“This is what it’s about,” you mutter under your breath, running your fingers over the crayon marks.

More letters. More words of encouragement. A scribbled note from a group of university students who drove twelve hours just to see you race last season. A letter from an older woman who says she’s been watching F1 since her husband introduced her to it in the ‘70s and how proud she is to see a woman making waves. You pause at that one, your chest swelling. You’ll have to write her back.

You reach for the next envelope, a bit plainer than the others. No stickers, no hand-drawn doodles in the margins. It’s simple, just your name written on the front in neat black ink. Your gut tugs slightly, but you brush it off. Not every fan is an artist.

You open it, pulling out a card with a printed picture of a car on the front. Your car. You smile, flipping it open to read the message inside.

But your smile fades as you start to read.

You don’t belong here.

The words are bold, black, and stark against the white paper. They stand out like a punch to the gut, each line colder and more hateful than the last. The handwriting is meticulous, like whoever wrote it wanted to be sure you’d understand every word.

Women like you are ruining the sport.

Your throat tightens. Your fingers grip the edges of the card a little harder than before, the edges bending under the pressure.

Go back to doing what you’re good at: nothing.

You try to swallow, but it feels like there’s a knot lodged in your throat. It’s not the first time you’ve seen something like this. Hell, it’s not even the worst thing anyone’s said. But right now, it’s too sharp, too specific, too venomous.

You reach up to close the card, your hand trembling slightly. But before you can fully shut it, something catches your eye — a tiny puff of fine yellow powder shoots from the fold, drifting into the air in front of you.

“What the-” You blink, confused for a split second.

Then, it hits.

A burning sensation spreads through your throat and nose. Your skin tingles, a wave of heat rushing over your face. You gasp, trying to catch your breath, but it feels like you’re inhaling fire. Panic spikes as your vision blurs.

“Alan!” The name barely makes it past your lips before you feel your legs give way beneath you.

“Alan!” You try again, but it comes out weaker this time. Your limbs feel heavy, your chest tight, and the room starts to spin in slow, nauseating circles.

Footsteps pound across the floor. Alan’s voice sounds far away, muffled, like he’s underwater. You catch a glimpse of him sprinting toward you, his face pale, eyes wide. “Y/N?”

Your body jerks uncontrollably, a violent shudder running through you. The room twists, everything turning hazy as you hit the floor hard, your fingers twitching against the cool tile.

“What the hell — Y/N!” Alan’s panic is sharp now, cutting through the fog. You can barely see him through the haze clouding your vision, but you feel him grab your shoulders, shaking you gently.

“Stay with me. Just stay with me, okay?” His voice cracks, fear bleeding through the edges.

Your entire body seizes again, every muscle clamping down painfully. A sharp cry escapes your throat as the convulsions take over, uncontrollable now.

“Help! Somebody, help!” Alan’s voice is frantic, desperate, echoing through the room as the world starts to fade. His hands are on your face now, trying to keep you conscious. You feel his fingers trembling against your skin, hear the panic rising in his voice as he keeps shouting for help.

But you’re slipping, sinking deeper into the darkness as the convulsions wrack your body. You can’t speak. You can’t move.

Alan’s voice is the last thing you hear before everything goes black.

***

The world returns slowly, like surfacing from a deep dive. There’s a ringing in your ears, muffled voices blending into the constant hum of machinery. Your body feels like it’s on fire — each nerve sizzling under your skin, radiating heat. You try to move, but it’s as if you’re bound by weights. The sheets beneath you cling to your body, too warm, too tight, too much.

Someone’s talking nearby, but it’s distant, warped. You can’t make out the words yet. Everything feels heavy — your eyelids, your chest, even your breathing. Your mouth is dry, your tongue like sandpaper against the roof of your mouth.

Slowly, the fog begins to clear, and you catch fragments of conversation.

“… highly illegal substance …” A voice, crisp and professional, filters through. The doctor. “… extreme toxicity … very few cases on record …”

You try to focus, but the burning sensation inside you only intensifies. It’s everywhere — your limbs, your core, your mind. Like you’re being torn apart from the inside out.

You manage a groan, the sound barely escaping your lips.

“She’s waking up,” someone says, closer now. Alan? It sounds like him, but there’s a hitch in his usually confident voice. Panic.

Your eyelids flutter open, and the room comes into blurry focus. Harsh fluorescent lights. Sterile white walls. The sterile smell of antiseptic clogs your senses, a sharp contrast to the heat still coursing through you. You blink slowly, your vision sharpening enough to see Alan standing by your bedside, pale and jittery, his hand running through his hair in nervous strokes.

Across from him is the doctor, his white coat stiff and immaculate. He’s holding a clipboard, and his face is a mask of concern. When he speaks, it feels like each word takes a lifetime to process.

“… the substance she was exposed to … it’s not just any powder,” the doctor is saying, his voice measured but grim. “It’s a synthetic pollen derivative, known as Lust Dust on the black market.”

Lust Dust. The words sink into you, but you don’t recognize them. Your throat feels too tight to ask for clarification. Alan, however, doesn’t hesitate.

“What does that mean? What the hell is that?” Alan’s voice is raw, frayed at the edges.

The doctor sighs, flipping through the notes on his clipboard before answering. “It’s an extremely illegal bio-weapon, developed underground. It was used in several isolated attacks a few years ago, mostly in war zones. The symptoms … well, they’re brutal.”

You don’t like the sound of this. Brutal. Illegal. Bio-weapon. The words swirl around in your head, each one setting off alarm bells, but you can barely move enough to react. You just lie there, heat pulsing through you, your body screaming in agony.

“The pollen attacks the body’s nervous system,” the doctor continues, his tone clinical. “It acts as a stimulant, targeting primal instincts, heightening … certain responses. The most dangerous part is that, if untreated, the body will burn out within hours.”

“Burn out?” Alan echoes, his voice barely more than a whisper. “What does that mean? You mean … she’ll die?”

“Yes,” the doctor replies, his tone darkening. “In most cases, without intervention, the victim’s body will shut down. It’s a highly sexualized toxin. The only way to counteract the effects is through physical release.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence. The words hover in the air, sinking into the room with a weight you can almost feel. Your heart races, your mind struggling to comprehend what’s being said. Physical release? The burning sensation in your body intensifies, like it’s reacting to the very idea of what the doctor’s suggesting.

Alan’s face pales further, his hand gripping the back of his neck in horror. “Wait, are you — are you saying she has to-”

“Sex,” the doctor says bluntly, not sugar-coating anything. “Yes. If she doesn’t have sex soon, she will die. The sooner, the better, to mitigate the damage the pollen’s already caused.”

A cold sweat breaks out across your skin, despite the unbearable heat raging inside you. The fire in your veins is consuming everything, twisting the doctor’s words into cruel irony. This can’t be happening. Not this.

“I … I …“ Alan stammers, clearly at a loss, his eyes flicking to you, desperate and terrified. “There’s got to be another way. Medicine? A procedure? Something?”

The doctor shakes his head. “There’s no antidote. The only option is the one I’ve given you.”

You want to scream. You want to cry. But you can’t do anything except lie there, burning from the inside out, unable to stop the panic surging through you as the realization sinks in.

Alan takes a shaky breath. “What … what do we do now?”

The doctor straightens, his voice calm but commanding. “The most important thing is finding someone who’s willing to … assist.”

Alan’s eyes widen in horror, but before he can say anything, the door bursts open and several members of your team file into the room — engineers, mechanics, staff. Their faces are tight with concern, and they crowd into the small space, murmuring amongst themselves.

“What happened?” Someone asks, their voice tense.

Alan quickly explains, his voice shaking as he goes over the details. The pollen. The bio-weapon. The need for “intervention.” Every word makes your heart pound harder, and you can feel the collective shock ripple through the room as the reality of the situation sets in.

“She needs someone,” Alan says, his voice thick with emotion. “She needs someone to …”

He can’t even finish the sentence.

The room falls into stunned silence. You can hear the soft hum of the machines around you, the ragged breathing of the people in the room. It feels like time has stopped, the weight of the situation pressing down on everyone.

Then, the whispers start.

“I’ll do it,” someone mutters.

“No, I will,” another voice pipes up. You recognize it as one of the engineers, his voice shaky but sincere.

“I mean, she’s our driver, right? We have to help.”

More voices chime in, each one offering, each one willing. The panic in the room turns to a frantic eagerness, as though everyone suddenly realizes what’s at stake. You can barely comprehend it — the idea that your team, your colleagues, are discussing this as though it’s just another task, something to be done to save your life.

Your mind is spinning, your body trembling with the heat still coursing through you. You want to shout at them, tell them to stop, that this isn’t how things should be. But you can’t move, can’t speak. All you can do is listen as the conversation grows more chaotic, more desperate.

Then, the door opens again, and a new voice cuts through the noise.

“Everyone out.”

It’s Max.

The room falls silent instantly, every head turning toward him. He stands in the doorway, his face hard and set, his blue eyes blazing with an intensity you’ve never seen before. He looks around the room, his gaze sharp, taking in the faces of your teammates, the panic, the confusion.

“I said out,” Max repeats, his voice calm but firm.

No one moves at first, too shocked to respond. But then one by one, they start to file out, murmuring to each other in hushed tones as they leave the room. You hear Alan hesitate for a moment, but even he doesn’t argue. The door shuts softly behind them, leaving you alone with Max.

You’re too weak to turn your head, but you can hear him walk closer, his footsteps slow and deliberate. He doesn’t speak right away, and the silence hangs heavy in the air, broken only by the soft beeping of the machines monitoring your condition.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Max’s voice fills the room. “It’s going to be me.”

Your heart skips a beat.

“No one else is touching you,” he says, his tone low, steady. “I’m your teammate. I’m the one who’s going to help you. Not them.”

You can’t see his face, but you can hear the resolve in his voice, the determination. He’s not offering. He’s deciding. There’s no question, no hesitation. It’s going to be him, and no one else.

And as the burning inside you flares again, you realize that part of you is grateful.

***

The air between you and Max is thick with tension, the kind that crackles in the silence, heavy with unspoken words. You lie there, your body still ablaze, the fire under your skin pulsing in waves, but something about his presence — steady, resolute — grounds you, if only just. You can’t move, can barely speak, but your mind races, half-paralyzed with the agony of the pollen and half with the strange anticipation of what’s to come.

Max stands beside the bed, his face framed by the fluorescent lights above, casting shadows that sharpen his features. He doesn’t look afraid, though you can tell there’s something behind his eyes — something that trembles just beneath the surface. His gaze locks onto yours, and it feels like he’s looking past the pain, past the situation, to something deeper.

“This isn’t how I imagined …“ His voice is soft, barely more than a whisper, as though the words aren’t meant to be heard by anyone but you. He reaches for your hand, his fingers brushing yours, tentative at first, like he’s asking permission for what’s about to happen.

You want to respond, to say something, but your throat is too tight, too raw, the burning heat still tearing through you. You manage the faintest of nods, your hand twitching against his, and that’s all he needs.

Max leans over, his face close to yours now, his breath warm against your cheek. His hand trails gently down your arm, his touch soft, careful. “I’m here, okay?” He murmurs, his voice low, soothing. “We’ll get through this.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, in that same quiet, tender voice, he adds, “Schatje … you’re so strong.”

The endearment rolls off his tongue like honey, and despite everything — despite the fire tearing you apart from the inside out — it brings a strange, aching warmth to your chest. Max has never called you that before. The intimacy of it catches you off guard, though you don’t have the strength to dwell on it for long.

His hands move lower now, brushing across your skin with reverence, as though you might break under his touch. You shiver, not from the cold, but from the intensity of his gaze, the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

“You don’t deserve this,” Max whispers, his forehead nearly touching yours. His voice cracks ever so slightly, betraying the calm façade he’s trying to maintain. “I’ve … I’ve wanted this for a long time,” he admits softly, his words a confession, raw and vulnerable. “But not like this. Never like this.”

You close your eyes, focusing on the feel of his hands on your body, the way he’s handling you with such care, as though he’s afraid of hurting you. And somehow, through the pain, you manage to relax just enough to let him in. Just enough to let him take some of the weight from you.

He presses his lips to your temple, a soft, lingering kiss, and you can feel the tremble in his breath. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin. “Just let me take care of you.”

The way he says it sends a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, the burning inside you dims, replaced by something else. Something warm, and tender, and utterly consuming. Max moves with purpose now, his touch becoming more sure, more confident, but never losing that careful tenderness. He’s cooing to you, whispering soft praises in Dutch, his voice like a balm against the fire raging inside you.

“I’ve always wanted you,” Max admits again, his words spilling out like he can’t hold them back any longer. “For so long. I just … I didn’t know how to tell you.”

His hands continue their journey, and despite the circumstances, despite the fire still licking at your insides, your body responds. Every touch feels magnified, every brush of his skin against yours sending a jolt of something deeper through you, something primal and desperate and… needed.

“You’re so strong,” he says again, his voice reverent, almost in awe. “So perfect. I don’t know how you do it.”

Your body trembles beneath him, not just from the fire that’s still coursing through you, but from the way he’s touching you, the way his words wrap around you like a soft embrace. It’s intimate in a way you hadn’t expected, the vulnerability of the moment stripping away any pretense, any barriers you might have once had.

“I’m here, liefje,” Max whispers, his lips brushing against your ear now. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

You don’t know how he manages it, how he makes something so painful feel like this, but he does. His hands are everywhere, soothing the burn, coaxing your body to relax, to give in to what you need. And with every touch, every whispered endearment, the fire inside you dims, just a little, just enough to let you breathe.

“I wish it was different,” Max murmurs, his voice thick with emotion now. “I wish this was … just us. Not because of this. Not because of …“ His words trail off, but you understand. You understand perfectly.

He presses his forehead against yours again, his breathing ragged, his body tense with the effort of keeping himself composed. “But I’ll do whatever it takes,” he says, his voice fierce with determination. “I’ll do anything for you.”

Your body reacts to him instinctively now, every nerve ending lighting up in response to his touch, the fire inside you blazing hotter but in a way that feels … different. Less painful. More like an ache, a deep, desperate need that only he can fill.

“Max …“ you manage to whisper, your voice hoarse, barely audible. It’s the first word you’ve spoken since waking up, and it feels like a release, like a crack in the wall you’ve built around yourself. He hears it, though, and his gaze softens, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, his voice full of emotion. “I’ve always got you.”

His movements quicken, and you can feel yourself spiraling, the fire inside you building to a crescendo, but this time it’s not just pain. It’s something more, something overwhelming and all-consuming. You can feel him with you, guiding you, coaxing you toward the edge.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers again, his voice breathless now, his own control slipping. “I’ve wanted you for so long …“

His words send you tumbling over the edge, your body convulsing in a wave of pleasure so intense it nearly takes your breath away. The fire beneath your skin peaks, then suddenly, blessedly, begins to recede. It’s like the flames are being extinguished, one by one, leaving only warmth in their wake.

And Max is there, holding you through it, his arms wrapped around you tightly, his face buried in the crook of your neck. His breathing is ragged, his body trembling with the effort of holding himself together, but he doesn’t let go. He doesn’t move.

As the last of the fire dies down, as your body finally begins to relax, you hear him whisper, so softly you almost miss it.

“I love you.”

The words slip out before he can stop them, unguarded and raw, and for a moment, everything else fades away. The room, the pain, the circumstances that brought you here — it all disappears, leaving only the two of you, tangled together, vulnerable and exposed.

You’re too weak to respond, too exhausted from everything that’s just happened, but Max doesn’t seem to mind. He holds you close, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your hair, your forehead, anywhere he can reach.

“I love you,” he whispers again, like he’s afraid you didn’t hear him the first time. “I’ve always loved you.”

His confession hangs in the air, delicate and fragile, but it feels right. Like it’s been waiting to be said all along.

As the fire beneath your skin finally dies out completely, as your body settles into a state of calm for the first time in hours, you let yourself fall into the safety of his arms, his warmth the only thing keeping the remnants of the fire at bay.

Max doesn’t let go. Not for a long time. And you don’t want him to.

***

Max holds you close, his body pressed against yours, his breath still coming in shallow bursts as the two of you lie in a tangled heap on the bed. The burning fire that had been searing through your body has finally been extinguished, leaving only a lingering warmth that feels manageable now.

But even though the pain is gone, even though your body has found relief, there’s still something… unfinished. A strange, restless feeling that hums beneath your skin, an ache that begs for more.

Max is quiet beside you, his hand brushing gently through your hair as he watches your face, his expression soft but intent, like he’s still worried, still waiting for some sign that you’re okay. But you can see it in his eyes — he knows. He knows it’s not over yet.

You shift beneath him, the subtle movement sending a ripple of sensation through you, and your breath hitches involuntarily. The fire is gone, but that need, that craving — it’s still there, simmering just below the surface. It’s not the urgent, desperate heat of the pollen, but it’s undeniable.

Max’s gaze sharpens, reading the subtle cues in your body. His hand stills in your hair, and you feel him shift beside you, his body tensing slightly as he watches you, waiting for you to say something, to ask for what you need.

You don’t have to.

“Oh liefje,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “You still need more, don’t you?”

Your throat tightens, and you nod, unable to form the words. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes — understanding, maybe, or something deeper. He doesn’t ask if you’re sure. He already knows.

Max’s hand trails down your body, his touch feather-light, and it sends a shiver through you, your body responding to him instantly. He presses a kiss to your temple, then to your jaw, his lips warm and soft against your skin. “I’m here,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. “Whatever you need.”

His lips travel lower, grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, and you arch into him, your body aching for more. He moves slowly, deliberately, savoring each touch, each kiss, as if he’s committing every inch of you to memory.

You can’t help the small gasp that escapes your lips when he moves lower still, his mouth brushing against your collarbone. He’s taking his time, drawing this out, making sure every second is filled with pleasure, with tenderness. There’s no urgency now, no frantic need to cure the fire. This is something else — something deliberate, something intimate.

Max’s hands slide down your sides, his thumbs brushing lightly over your ribs as he lowers himself down the bed. His mouth follows the path his hands have carved, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. You feel his breath against your skin, warm and teasing, as he moves lower, kissing across your stomach with slow, deliberate care.

Every nerve in your body is on high alert, each touch sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you. Your fingers tangle in the sheets, gripping them tightly as you fight to keep your composure, but Max makes it impossible. His lips are everywhere, soft and warm and completely unrelenting.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough with desire. “I don’t think you even realize …”

His words send a thrill through you, and your breath catches as his hands slide lower, his fingers brushing the curve of your hips. He presses a kiss to your navel, and you feel the heat pooling deep inside you, the need building again, stronger this time, more insistent.

“Max …” you whisper, your voice barely audible, but he hears you. He always hears you.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers back, his voice soft, reassuring. “Just relax.”

You try, but it’s impossible with the way he’s touching you, the way he’s kissing you, like every part of you deserves his undivided attention. He’s worshiping you with every movement, and it’s almost too much to bear.

Max’s hands slide up your thighs, and your breath stutters as he spreads your legs wider, his eyes dark with want as he looks up at you. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he presses a kiss just below the dip of your waist, teasing you, making you wait.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin. “Do you know that?”

You can’t respond, can’t do anything but arch into him, desperate for more. He knows exactly what you need, and he’s giving it to you slowly, carefully, savoring every moment.

Max’s hands grasp your thighs, and he pulls them apart slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. There’s something in his gaze — something raw, something vulnerable. He’s giving himself to you completely, just as much as you’re giving yourself to him.

His lips trail lower, pressing kisses to the sensitive skin there, and your entire body shudders in response. Every nerve is on fire again, but this time it’s not the cruel burn of the pollen.

This is different. This is Max.

He pauses for a moment, his lips hovering just above where you need him most, and he looks up at you, his eyes searching yours. “Tell me what you want,” he whispers, his voice barely more than a breath.

You can’t form the words. All you can do is nod, your body trembling beneath him.

Max smiles, a small, almost shy smile, and then he lowers his head, his mouth finally, blessedly, on you. The sensation is immediate, intense, and you cry out, your fingers digging into the sheets as he works you with a precision that only he seems to know. His tongue moves slowly at first, teasing you, drawing out your pleasure, but it doesn’t take long for him to find the rhythm that makes your entire body sing.

He’s relentless, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony, driving you higher and higher until you can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but feel. The pleasure builds and builds, coiling tighter and tighter inside you until you’re sure you’re going to break.

“Max!” You gasp, your body arching off the bed. “Please …”

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down. If anything, he goes faster, his tongue working you with an intensity that leaves you trembling. You’re so close, so impossibly close, and he knows it.

“That’s it,” he whispers against you, his voice thick with need. “Let go, schatje. I’ve got you.”

And then, with one last flick of his tongue, you’re gone, tumbling over the edge into a wave of pleasure so intense it almost hurts. Your entire body convulses, your vision going white as you fall apart beneath him, your fingers gripping the sheets so tightly they burn.

Max doesn’t let up, his mouth still on you, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you’re nothing but a trembling, panting mess. When he finally pulls away, you’re left gasping for breath, your body slick with sweat, your heart racing in your chest.

He crawls back up the bed, pressing soft kisses to your skin as he goes, his hands soothing over your trembling limbs. When he finally reaches your face, he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his fingers brushing your hair back from your face.

“You’re okay,” he murmurs, his voice soft, reassuring. “You’re okay.”

You can barely nod, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your release. Max pulls you into his arms, holding you close, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back as you come down from the high. His breath is warm against your ear, and you can feel his heart beating in time with yours.

For a moment, everything is still. Quiet. Perfect.

And then, just as your breathing begins to slow, the door creaks open.

The doctor walks in, clipboard in hand, his expression unreadable as he takes in the sight of you and Max — sweaty, tangled together, your bodies still humming with the afterglow. He doesn’t say anything at first, just glances at his clipboard, then back at you.

“Well,” he says after a moment, his tone entirely too clinical for the situation. “It appears the cure has been administered.”

Max stiffens beside you, but the doctor doesn’t seem to notice — or care. He simply jots down a few notes on his clipboard, his pen scratching loudly in the silence.

“Residual effects of heightened libido may persist,” the doctor adds, almost as an afterthought. He glances up from his notes, his gaze flicking between you and Max, then nods, satisfied. “I’ll be back to check on you later.”

And with that, he turns and walks out of the room, leaving you and Max in stunned silence.

Max lets out a breath, a low, incredulous laugh bubbling up from his chest. “Did he seriously just …”

You nod, still too dazed to form a coherent response.

Max shakes his head, a small smile playing at his lips as he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you protectively. “Well, I guess we’re not done yet.”

And with the way your body still hums with need, you know he’s right.

[greensagephase]

Expectant Father!Miguel

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader Summary: Sweet Miguel who's a daddy to be and trying his best to support you and prepare for the baby's arrival! Word Count: 2.7k Warnings: none, just fluff Masterlist

Imagining a Miguel who after BTSV grieves and heals from his loss and trauma. He opens up and falls in love with someone, you, a Spider-Woman from another universe. The two of you eventually get married and after a few years of a beautiful marriage life, the talk about children comes up once more. You both talked about it early on in your relationship, of course, especially with Miguel losing Gabriella. You wanted to make sure that Miguel was open to the idea of starting a family in the future.

Even after marriage, the topic came up a few times here and there. Each time, Miguel always reassured you that he was open and ready for whenever you both decided to begin trying. And so, the talk eventually started again after a few years of enjoying your marriage. You both discussed it and reassured each other that you were both more than ready to start, so at last, Miguel and you begin trying!

Surprisingly, or may not so much, you soon begin to show symptoms and before you know it, there’s Miguel and you in your shared bathroom with pregnancy tests. Miguel holds your hand as you both wait for the result, both feeling nervous because this could be it. Trying to ease your nerves and his racing heart, Miguel peppers your forehead with kisses, whispering sweet words of reassurance.

“Te amo [I love you].”

“Don’t stress if it’s false symptoms, mi vida [my life]. We’ll keep trying.”

After what feels like forever, the tests reveal the results…

Expectant Father!Miguel, who tears up and wraps his arms tightly around you before kissing your face out of pure love and affection when the pregnancy test turns out positive.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who can’t sleep that night out of excitement! Miguel holds you close to his chest while you sleep soundly, planting tender and sweet kisses to your head to avoid waking you up as he thinks about the new and beautiful change in your lives, unable to believe that this is happening. He’s going to be a dad!

Expectant Father!Miguel, who wants to tell the whole world that you’re pregnant, but who agrees not to say anything for the first trimester, just in case. Despite wanting to scream the news to all of Nueva York, Miguel also loves being able to keep the news to yourselves. It’s your little secret!

Expectant Father!Miguel, who wants you to have the best midwife, doula, ob/gyn, or whoever you wish to treat you during your pregnancy. Miguel wants to make sure you and the baby will be well taken care off during and after the pregnancy in all aspects, especially medically, so he does research like his life depends on it with you to choose the right professional. This is especially important to him because he’s aware of how often women are disregarded when it comes to their own health, so Miguel wants to make sure that whoever you both work with, takes your concerns seriously.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who goes with you to every single appointment. No matter what. Miguel will schedule things around the appointments in order to go with you because he’s not missing one. His eyes soften up every single time he looks at the screen, seeing your baby moving around. He holds your hand, smiling and filled with happiness as the professional explains the progress. He may not say it at every appointment but he always thinks about how you both, “made that” happen.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who holds the ultrasound pictures after the appointment in his hands, looking longingly at them. At home, he asks if it's okay to frame them so they can be added to the wall of photos in your living room. He personally hangs it up!

Expectant Father!Miguel, who already keeps a stock of your favorite snacks in his lab, but now that you’re pregnant, expands it. As your pregnancy progresses and you start getting weird cravings, Miguel stocks up on a mixture of food items to be ready.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who will go anywhere and everywhere to get you food when you get cravings, no matter how weird they are. Miguel will travel the multiverse, even at 4am, to satisfy the cravings you and baby have!

Expectant Father!Miguel, who gains weight during the pregnancy, too! He doesn’t mind at all, but instead smiles every time he remembers, feels, or sees the new extra weight because “estamos esperando, mi amor [we’re expecting, my love].” He’s proud of it and he doesn’t let any little joke or comment about it get to him!

Expectant Father!Miguel, who massages your swollen feet to ease your discomfort! He tenderly massages them and rubs lotion to keep them soft. Talking about this, Miguel will do your toenails if you don’t get them done professionally. He surprisingly does a great job and he finds that this is another great way to continue pampering you in the future. Miguel also helps you put your shoes on, tying them when it's necessary when you find it too difficult as your pregnancy progresses.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who always tells you how beautiful you are, but especially now that you’re pregnant. Miguel thinks you’re absolutely gorgeous with your pregnancy glow, that's how he sees you, but he also knows that you could easily get ideas about your body not looking good or feeling self-conscious, so he makes sure to tell you often how stunning you are. Miguel wants you to know he loves you no matter what your body looks like!

Expectant Father!Miguel, who buys you the prettiest maternity clothes! He doesn’t care to spend money on clothes or anything else because he wants to you to feel beautiful and comfortable all throughout your pregnancy. Every time you go shopping, he always wants to buy you something, even when you tell him that you have enough clothes but again, Miguel wants you to feel beautiful and comfortable. Plus, Miguel is sure the maternity clothes will come in handy again in a few years!

Expectant Father!Miguel, who holds you tenderly and whispers in your ear how beautiful and strong you are when you have those moments of self-consciousness. He gently reminds you it’s okay to feel that, he knows your body is experiencing changes, but he also reminds you that in his eyes, you’re absolutely beautiful. “Eres una diosa, mi amor [you’re a goddess, my love]”, he whispers.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who starts reading books about parenting and babies! Miguel is an avid reader (you cannot change my mind about this; the man loves to read, but with so many duties as the leader of the Spider Society, our current Miguel doesn’t make much time for it, but he’s def a bookworm), so it’s no surprise that a neat pile of books always sits on his nightstand, but the difference is that his books suddenly turn from science and fiction genres to books about parenting, children, and childbirth to educate and prepare himself as a father. As the pregnancy progresses, Miguel stays up late reading while you’re curled up at his side, sleeping soundly. He rubs your back tenderly with his free hand, partly to comfort you in your sleep but also because physical touch is one of his love languages. Miguel takes little breaks here and there just to admire your sleeping figure, wondering what he did to deserve you and the life he has with you.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who loves cooking to spoil you! He already enjoyed cooking for you before but now he finds double the happiness because he knows you’re eating for two! Also, Miguel will cook anything and everything for you; from your favorite dishes to new ones you’re suddenly craving, even if he’s never cooked it before.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who has to keep his emotions in check during the first trimester because you both agreed to keep your pregnancy a secret to avoid raising suspicions. You both agreed to keep it a secret until the first trimester just in case there are complications, which thankfully do not come up. Despite both of you agreeing to behave normally, people at HQ begin to wonder why Miguel is suddenly extra smiley. Some spider members ask him about it, which makes him realize he’s not doing too great of a job acting normal (but like, you can’t blame him! Miguel is just so, so, so happy that you’re going to be parents!). During the first trimester, some spider members dare ask why he’s so much more cheerful, so he always hits them up with, “Can’t I just smile?” He then puts on a grumpy face for show and to quiet down the suspicions, even though he’s so happy he’d buy a holographic billboard to announce your pregnancy to the entire population of Nueva York if he could, which financially he can, but he’s certain you wouldn’t appreciate that too much.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who no longer bothers to hide his happiness and excitement once the first trimester has passed and you announce it to your friends and coworkers at HQ because the pregnancy is going well. He doesn’t care to hide his excitement when someone asks him how you’re doing or if he’s ready for possible sleepless nights.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who truly, and I mean truly, doesn’t care about the baby’s gender! You guys talk about it as the weeks go by, wondering and guessing for fun, but Miguel truly doesn’t care. Whether it’s a girl or a boy, Miguel is going to love, cherish, and protect that child until his last breath!

Expectant Father!Miguel, who is over the moon when your baby bump starts showing! His gaze softens every time his eyes land on it, his heart elated with happiness. Miguel loves to cup it in his large hands, filled with awe that a little being half him and half yours is growing in your tummy. He obviously knows how the process works but either way, Miguel is always filled with such awe as he caresses and cups your bump.

Expectant Father!Miguel, whose eyes widen and mouth parts the first time he feels the baby kick. He looks at you, his expression one of love and tenderness while he feels the soft kicks under his hands. He kisses you sweetly before he kisses your bump and whispers softly, “Mi familia [my family].” He laughs softly as baby keeps kicking and jokes about having “un futbolista [a fútbol player]” in the family, which only seems to fuel the kicks. This is how you both discover that the baby loves listening to him talk.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who talks to your tummy every day once you both discover that the baby loves listening to his voice. Miguel talks about how excited he is for the baby to arrive, about how loved they will be by both their parents. He often reminds the baby that, “I’ll always protect and love you.”

Expectant Father!Miguel, who is involved in a very part of putting together the nursery because he’s so excited about it. You catch him smiling to himself very often while you both work on the nursery little by little over the months. He builds the crib, making sure that it’s assembled properly for the baby’s well being, and every other piece of furniture that needs to be put together. Talking about furniture, Miguel makes sure there’s a bookcase included, one you both slowly fill with children’s books. He helps hang up the picture frames you both decided on with cute photos appropriate for a baby nursery. He buys the most comfortable chair/couch for the room so that you’re both always comfortable while tending to the baby. You try to keep a budget for the room, but Miguel tells you to not worry about that! Miguel has more than enough money to provide for you and the baby, and he doesn’t care to spend it on the two of you, so he has no budget when it comes to setting up the baby’s room because he wants to make sure you and the baby have everything that’s needed!!

Expectant Father!Miguel, who goes with you to every class you attend to prepare for the baby’s arrival. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the middle of the day. Just like how he schedules things around doctor appointments, Miguel also fits these classes in not only to make sure he’s there as a supporting spouse but also to learn and be prepared to assist and support you when the baby arrives.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who smiles warmly when members from the Spider Society throw you a surprise baby shower. He looks at the cute and small clothes with affection, filled with some amusement as well when he sees some of them are spider theme.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who reads to the baby and you because he learned from somewhere that this is beneficial for children. He does this late in the evenings when you’re both cuddling on the couch, his hand tenderly caressing your stomach. Due to his gentle voice, he usually lulls you to sleep right there on the couch. If you don’t wake up soon, Miguel carries you to bed.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who also plays music for the baby and you. Again, he read something about this having benefits, so he’ll play different genres but usually it’s calm tunes you both choose to play.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who sits with you to decide on a name once you find out the gender of the baby. You ask him about his opinion on the choices you’ve both selected, but he can’t settle on one. He never realized how hard it’s to choose a name, something your child will have forever. You think it’s cute how his eyebrows furrow in deep thought as he contemplates on his personal choice.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who sits on the floor while you sit on the chair you decided on for the nursery while the two of you pack the hospital bag when you’re in the last few weeks of your pregnancy. He checks the bag about a thousand times to make sure you and baby will have everything that’s needed while at the hospital, trying to make sure neither of you have forgotten something.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who makes sure your place is clean right before the baby arrives so that when you come home, the place will be spotless. He also makes sure that all the devices for the baby, such as the baby monitor, are ready to go.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who holds your hand as you’re about to have the baby and refuses to leave your side no matter what! He quietly and sweetly tells you how much he loves you, how strong and beautiful you are. He knows his words of encouragement might do little to ease your pain and discomfort, but the words spill from his mouth regardless because he truly believes what he’s saying. He brings your hand to his lips before he kisses the back of it with misty eyes, filled with so many emotions.

Papa!Miguel, who wipes his tears when the nurse hands you the baby for the first time. He gazes at you with so much love and affection while you hold your baby for the first time, noticing how gentle and natural you are at motherhood. He saves the image in his mind, knowing he'll remember that moment for the rest of his life.

Papa!Miguel, whose eyes spill more tears when you hand the baby to him so he can experience holding his child for the first time, too. His soft gaze captures every detail of his child’s face, searing it into his memory forever. He notes how light and small they feel in his arms, the warmth from their little body, and the beautiful scent coming from his child. He turns to look at you, smiling, and in that moment, he wonders if he’s dreaming all of this. If so, Miguel silently wishes that he never wakes up from this beautiful dream.

Finally got to post this one; it's been in my Notion vault since April 💀but anyway, thank you for reading!

Alondra❤️

[martinluvrr]

NUMBER ONE | KATE MARTIN

⋅˚₊‧ kate martin x actress!reader

⋅˚₊‧ summary: after 6 years, were still each others number ones.

⋅˚₊‧ part two!!! || nav

It’s been 6 years, 6 years since you last saw Kate. In real life. The stalker in you, stayed home and watched as she stood from the audience, drafted by the Las Vegas Aces.

Happy. Proud. Overjoyed. Excited for her.

but also Sad. Desperate. Disappointed that you weren’t there with her.

She was your first girlfriend, the first gay experience you’ve ever had. You always are a little ashamed about still thinking about her, since it’s literally been 6 years and she was your high school sweetheart.

She was 16, you were 15 when you both met. You had been a shy kid and she was a basketball player. You were still at a time that you were questioning your sexuality. Being 15 and gay when you were mostly straight you’re whole life, definitely left you a little scared and shocked.

For a year, you were both friends. In the same friend group and circle, but Kate had a liking to you and mostly was overprotective of you. She would always get your drinks at a party, and would never let you take them from someone else. She would always walk you home and would never walk away until she was sure you were home, safe. Whenever it was just the two of you she would always pay, and she opened the door for you or pull your chair back. In other words, she was basically your girlfriend, but you didn't know it yet. It was clear to everyone that you liked each other. but Kate was too afraid to ask you out in worries that she would ruin your friendship.

After a year, you both started dating. Halloween night you couldn't wait any longer and kissed her, and that started everything. Neither of you asked officially but you didn’t need to. Kate was basically yout girlfriend to everyone around you. And she nor you, didn't need to ask each other because you knew, Kate was yours and you were Kates. “Y/n’s my girlfriend” she introduced you.

She was your best friend, girlfriend, your biggest supporter.

So when she committed to Iowa, you were -of course- happy for her, but also very devastated. You were going to Cambridge, literally a whole continent away, and a wayy different time zone. And while you two didn't fight about anything, you could smell it brewing. So when it finally came, you weren't surprised. She said some things, and you said some things. But the thing that surprised the most, was the state you were in the end. Hysterically crying while Kate held you, and Kate was also close to crying, but she didn't want to make it worse. So you both dreaded the last day, graduation. You kissed each other one last time before parting ways. "You'll always be my number one" You said to her. She smiled before placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

But somehow you could feel the pit in your stomach telling you that this wasn't over, this was just 'see you later'.

✩

After a year in uni , you got your first gig. And a big one. Season 9 of Suits was not just any job, but the job. It was the one that got you the job after, To all the boys. After that they just kept on coming. Of course you were happy, excited but there was always a part of you that wondered if Kate was watching. When you won your first oscar, best actress, you even said a little joke in your speech. "And to anyone tempted to kiss the Tv tonight, please don't chip your tooth' You laughed, and so did the room filled with movies stars. Was Kate watching? Did she laugh?

When 2020 rolled around and everybody started watching women college basketball, they were too late. You had started 2 years earlier. A little stalker-ish since she was your ex, but hey, no one knew and there isn't anything wrong with a guilty pleasure.

And in 2022 when pictures of you and high school Kate rolled around, it was a media circus. Theories, speculations and very very personal questions were asked every time you had press for 4 months. And when you finally addressed it, you thought it was best for you to say.

"It's definitely crazy how they found those photos but yeah me and her were kinda friends"

"Were? Bad blood?"

"No absolutely none, wish her the best" You smiled and ushered the interviewer to move on from the topic.

It was for the best, you hadn't publicly came out and she didn't either, even though everybody seemed to know. While you addressed it like that, she didn't at all. Literally when she was asked, the media person of Iowa WCBB literally told everybody media time was over. Kate looked relieved and your heart broke a little.

Fast forward 2 years later, the Las Vegas Aces happened. Literally the country you've been in for a year. You saw the updates, you saw the games and you were so happy for her. This was the goal, this was what she was meant to be.

So when you and your co stars were invited to a game, you didn't have a choice. If you didn't show up, you looked suspicious, so you figured you would go, watch, take some photos and leave as fast you could, hoping you wouldn't run into her. As if she would ever wanna run into you, in the first place.

So here you were, courtside tickets, next to your 5 costars and your media manager. You saw her, she saw you. Eye contact with her still gave you butterflies, when you broke it. You could still feel her eyes at the side of your face.

"Y/n we need you in the locker room, players want some photo and we need media" Aria, your shows media manager, broke you out of daydreaming. Y/n nodded towards, giving her approval.

"You okay?" Emma -your costar- asked, you gave her a small smile before nodding. The sound of the final buzzer came, and while the Aces celebrated. You dreaded whatever would happen in the next hour.

When you and your costars were ushered in the locker room, you made sure to put up a smile and not look stressed. When you see Kate in the back, she gives a small mischievous smile, you give a wide grin at her.

While the room is distracted, you make her way towards her. When there's finally 7 feet distance, you find yourself stopping, not knowing what to do next. Then you finally hear her voice.

"Y/n"

"Martin"

a long pause, longing in both of your eyes.

"Well aren't you going to hug me?" She said, arms wide opened and eyes filled with smug. That was the push you needed, cause next thing you know, is her arms around you and your head in her chest.

To anyone watching this was intimate, but you didn't care.

"Missed me?" You heard her mumble against your heard.

"Hardly" You teased, and pulled away. You know are aware of the 3 players in the corner watching you two. Kate took a step back, and started admiring you. From the knee boots, to the skirt, to your ass.

"Look at you, big movie star"

"You're one to talk, money martin" you said using her now popular nickname. You heard her laugh, before turning around and introducing you to her new teammates. You 5 had a little conversation, it was clear that the both of you were making heart eyes to each other.

"Y/n we need you for media" Aria pulled you out of the conversation, Y/n nodded, a dread feeling coming over her. She turned to Kate and the next words Kate said were "I'll come pick you up tomorrow". She didn't ask, didn't need to. You nodded before saying goodbye to her teammates, the three had teasing eyes for Kate.

And when you started walking away, you heard Kate yell for you, turning to wait for her, you hear her say "You look good" , you knew the tone, it was said teasingly.

"I know" you laughed and turned away walking towards the door, but not before hearing her team hyping her up.

✩

[s-4pphics]

errrr……. hey…

uhhh this is awkward hey what do we do when we’re grieving? write ab arranged marriages slayyyyyy errrr yeah here’s that see yall next month or year or whatever

—

“I want a divorce.”

Your tone doesn’t waver nor break, voice engulfed in plainness.

It was one of the issues Ellie’s had since your marriage: an act to combine assets initiated by your parents. They never intended to have a daughter — you told Ellie the night of your honeymoon — but when your mother laid eyes on you, warming you with the skin of her chest for the first time, she painted your entire future in her mind. An object. The finest to be drenched and drowned in riches and diamonds, only living under multi-million dollar homes owned by your husband’s family name. Just as long as you played your role. A silent, unopinionated, docile baby-making machine.

Your parents nearly had a heart attack when they found one of your diaries filled with pictures of naked women, either hand drawn or torn from pages of your father’s filthy magazines. Your mother told you she should’ve aborted you, just when you thought you’d finally have a normal birthday party. The heavy breaths of your sobs extinguished the flame above your 18th candle.

But you’re 22 now; fabulously wealthy, married and…

Staring at your wife… plainly, even though the flames in your eyes rages war. The dining table is a battleground and a red dot punctures right through Ellie’s forehead. She’s not sure what you are.

Your marriage was not ideal. Not only was it forced and filled with shame, but Ellie grew resentful rather quickly. Towards the man that brought her into such a shrouded lifestyle, towards the heavens above for cursing her with life, but when she couldn’t attack, she brought it to your bedroom. You suffered, she’ll admit. It only took two weeks into your marriage for her to find an escape through other unassuming women while you laid in your shared bed with a tear-soaked pillow. You never knew when she’d come home, but when she did, she never failed to berate you. It carried on for months, the blame; blaming you for everything that’s happened to her thus far, despite her knowing that you’re a victim just as much as she is. You were her only emotional outlet. Or punching bag.

But despite every torment she threw your way, you never failed to smile at her the next morning with her coffee in your hands.

You always remained silent. Until now.

The delicious meal you prepared has soured on her tongue. All she can do is stare at you in disbelief.

She takes in the polite fold of your hands, 16 carat, rose gold, wedding band still on your ring finger. Her eyes rush over the plumpness of your lips, the delicate curve of your nose, the rise and fall of your chest… the way your breasts expand in your flowery dress with each breath.

Ellie swallows, nearly choking at the sudden dryness in her throat.

“… What?”

“I want a divorce.”

Your tone raises. Not aggressively; that wouldn’t fit you. You wanted her to hear you.

She huffs despite the burning tips of her ears. “I’m sure.” She mocks with a smirk.

Your eyes squint. “I’m not joking.”

“You know who else wasn’t?” She leans across the table, pinning you with her gaze, “Our parents. They don’t give a fuck about what we do and don’t want. We’re lucky they put us together.”

“I…”

Ellie flinches when your voice cracks to a whisper. Never once has the shell you mask yourself in cracked. Not once. Not in front of Ellie, your parents, her family, even strangers. You’ve never failed to put on a dazzling smile for the spectators.

“I want to be in love.” Tears free fall from your eyes and your chin trembles, “There’s no… I don’t have anyone. I never did.”

“I thought we could… at least be friends. I know you didn’t want this, I know — b-but… I can’t keep doing this. I feel like I’m dying—“

Ellie knows you’re talking about her, and guilt swallows her whole. It’s a shame, really; you’re gorgeous when you cry. Why’s her heart pounding this madly?

“I want someone to treat me like I-I’m alive, no one sees me, I d — don’t feel real —“

Ellie stands when your often assembled appearance begins to crumble. She’s never seen you so shattered, gasping for air like it’s limited. She recognizes this. You’re breaking, just like she did the night before she signed her life over to your family.

“Hey—“

Your seat goes flying back when your heeled feet plant on the marble floor, manicured nails clutching at the skin of your chest raw. She rushes over when your sobs crack, desperately trying to get air in your lungs with pleading and fearful eyes.

“Hey, hey, look at me, c’mon—“

Your fists pound against her chest in between wails, makeup streaking down your face, clumping your fluttery lashes. She calls out to you with hands on your soaked cheeks, tells you to count, to spell your name for her, but you can’t hear. You can’t function. Have you ever been this close?

Ellie curses before her hand flies into the jug filled with sphered ice cubes, shoving them into the side of your neck. They melt instantly from the heat of your skin, but you gasp and flinch from the cold.

“Yeah, feel that? Feels nice? Focus on that.”

Her hand delves into the jug until your jerky breaths calm into spluttered exhales. She’s sure she’s frost bitten.

You’re quiet again. Docile again. Anxious. Embarrassed. Heartbroken. And so fucking angry. Ellie’s getting whiplash looking into your eyes. They’re speckled with gold and… something foreign. She can’t place it. The hand on your cheek swiftly falls to her side.

“You—“ she clears her throat when you wobble, vibrating form pushing up against her, nose almost brushing hers, “You alright?”

But you say nothing, eyes distant. You simply step out of your heels with tightly clenched fists and jostled hair before walking towards the staircase.

“I’m very tired.” You say plainly over your shoulder before trekking up the steps. She watches cautiously until a door slams shut. She, after minutes of gawking at the staircase, takes in the scenery around her. Everything is where it should be… minus your plate is cold and untouched. But your wine glass is empty. She's not sure where the bottle is. Since when do you drink?

Her mind is unsettled and there’s a stutter in her chest. Your home is silent. A heaviness that weighs her down.

She assumed that the uncomfortable twist in her gut was from her own wrongdoings since your marriage.

Not at all.

Ellie’s concerned. There’s something off about you.

More off than usual.

[suckerforblondeathletes]

Brats Get Punished - Alessia Russo

Alessia Russo x Fem!Reader

Summary: When Alessia acts out in public to turn you on, she gets punished for it.

Warnings: SMUT!!!! Rough Sex, overstimulation, hotel sex, consent is key, safe word mentioned, not used, Dom!Reader, Sub!Alessia, brat!Alessia.

Authors Note: First Smut fic, hope you enjoy its a long one!!

Your woken up from your slumber from a call from your girlfriend.

It's a routine you both have made, she calls you every morning to wake you up. You claim that it better than an alarm.

You wipe the sleep from your eyes before picking up the phone and putting her on speaker.

"Good morning baby." She says softly, knowing you're still tired and barley awake.

"Good morning love, I don't want to get up and catch that flight." She giggles at the sleep in your voice and the complaining you're doing. Her laugh causes you to smile to yourself.

After you both talk for a couple minutes you decide to FaceTime her and start getting ready. She mirrors your actions by walking into her bathroom and washing her face.

You both smile at each other when you make eye contact in the camera, laughing you walk out of the room to grab something, walking back in you get a text from your captain wondering if you have gotten up.

Leah knows you're not a morning person, and would do anything too get 5 minutes of extra sleep.

You roll your eyes and pick up the phone, not going unnoticed by Alessia.

"Whats wrong?"

"Leah is bothering me way too early for my liking." She laughs at your annoyance in your voice and a thought crosses her mind.

"When I come and pick you up today for the airport, do you want to stop by that coffee shop you like on the way?" Excitement floods into you when you hear the word coffee, loving a nice iced coffee to start your morning, but not expecting to get one today.

"Of course, I would be insane to decline that." You barley get your words out from the big smile that is on your face.

"Okay, sounds good. Im going to go get dressed and pack a few more things and then swing by, I will text you when I'm close." She says as she finishes rubbing in a serum while doing her skincare routine, you doing the same.

"Okay baby, I love you." You blow her a kiss through the phone and she does the same.

"Love you too babe." She gets out before hanging up the phone.

You finish your hair and get a text from lessi saying she's here. You grab your bags and phone before heading out to greet her.

She gets out of the car and she wraps her arms around your neck while you hug her waist. Pressing a kiss on her lips and letting her fresh set of acrylics run through your hair.

"Hi baby." You smile at the blonde at the lovesick expression on her face.

"Hey, I missed you." "I missed you too, we don't want to miss the flight so we should get on the road."

She nods before helping put your bags in the car, while she is distracted you sneak into the drivers seat. She doesn't fight it, not enjoying driving while you are with her, wanting to be your passenger princess as you call her.

When you both settle in the car, you reach over to her bare thigh and put your hand on it, squeezing it periodically during the drive.

You can't help but notice her squirm every time you do. Grinning to yourself you know what will happen in the hotel room tonight.

"Finally the love birds arrive!" You hear the Irish women yell from across the airport, you roll your eyes, never understanding how much of a morning person she is.

You look over next to her seeing Caitlin passed out on her shoulder, and Kyra taking pictures of her sleeping. Knowing you are gonna ask to see that picture later.

Alessia goes to a seat and makes herself comfortable with her coffee and phone in hand, keeping quiet and not saying much to anyone.

She always gets like this when she is turned on. The realization making your grin to yourself again before approaching her.

"Whats wrong pretty?" You make eye contact with her and all you see in her blue eyes are lust, lust for you.

She doesn't say anything, just makes eye contact with you for about 10 seconds before looking back down to her phone.

You take the empty seat to her left and pull your phone out as well. Canceling out the rowdy teammates and waiting for the boarding to begin.

You place your hand on her thigh again, but higher. You keep looking down at your phone, acting like you don't know what you're doing.

When you placed your hand on her thigh, you hear a small whimper from her before she turned her phone off and threw her head back, closing her eyes trying to pull herself together.

You start to inch your way higher before she grabs your hand and pushes it off of her.

You place your hand on her thigh again and when she goes to move it you lean forwards, close to her ear and whisper.

"Move my hand again and I will fuck you right now in that bathroom and I don't think you want our teammates to hear your moans, do you?"

You both made eyes contact, you see the frustration in her eyes and she sees the seriousness in yours. She releases your hand and lets it fall back onto her thigh.

She wanted you, and bad. So she had to find away to make you want her in the same way.

You look back down to your phone before the boarding announcement begins.

When you board the plane you and Alessia get seats next to each other, you in the middle, her in the window seat sharing a big blanket, and Leah on the isle seat. How she got seated next to you, you have no idea.

"So y/n, I heard you went to Australia a few weeks back with less, how was it? I forgot to ask." She turned to you and put her knees on her seat like a child waiting for a story.

Before you could get a word out you felt a hand being placed on your leg, the shorts you are wearing, that match Alessia's, being pretty short and your thighs being easily accessible.

"It was nice, wasn't it less?" You turn to the blonde and give her a stern look, a warning that if her hand went any higher than it was that she would pay for it.

"Yes, it was a lot of fun. Good scenery." She smiles at both you and Leah, acting innocent as if she wasn't running her nails along your bare thigh under the blanket.

"Fun, I tried to go a month back but ended up here with work and practice, then camp came up..." She is a huge talker, would talk someones ear off if they let her. Normally you would, but Alessia's hand going farther up your thigh canceled her out.

"Hold onto that story for one quick minute Leah." She nods and looks at her phone while you turn to Alessia.

You grab her by the jaw, not to rough but enough to turn her face close to yours.

"Im giving you one more warning babe. Cut that out before I will make you regret you ever even touched me." You whispered as you made eye contact with the blonde. The lust in her eyes grew as she thought about what you would do to her, she nodded and you let go of her jaw, turning to Leah and asking her to continue.

Though her hand never left the inside of your thigh, if stayed still and didn't move for a while.

You both ended up falling asleep when Leah left to play cards with Mary. Her head in your neck and you arm around her shoulders and the blanket tugged over you both.

You woke up first and began scrolling on your phone.

Feeling movement on your shoulder you look over to Alessia, seeing her pretty blue eyes looking back at you, full of lust like before.

"Hi baby." You smile at her before she makes a incoherent mumble and lays her head back on your shoulder.

You turn back to your phone until you feel light kisses on your neck, in a spot she knows you love.

Her hand wonders higher on you leg again, you didn't think she could do anything else, until she starts releasing light moans and whimper into your ear.

Thank the gods it didn't last long before the plane landed shortly after she started teasing you.

When the departures start, you make eye contact with the Italian, anger and sexual frustration filled your eyes, while playfulness and need filled hers.

You stood up and grabbed your over head bag before gripping tightly onto her wrist, pulling her up and out of the plane.

She tried to make small talk but you stayed silent, thinking about her punishment for later.

It was evening in Barcelona, which gave everyone time to go and set their bags in their hotel rooms and get settled for the night.

You grab Alessia's bag in your left hand and yours in her right and head to the elevator, still not saying a word to her.

"Move over my suitcase won't fit." Kyra complained to Steph. Steph some how had three suitcases all for herself, no one should have three for one person but Steph is Steph so no one says anything.

"No, I think you should catch then next lift Kyra." She had sass in her tone which made Leah and Katie laugh to themselves.

Kyra was about to complain again before you stopped her.

"Kyra its fine, Me and less will wait and catch the next one, go on." She thank you as both you and Alessia get off.

You watch as the door closes before you make sure you both are alone.

You turn to her and grab her by her throat, not roughly to choke her, but enough to make her go fuzzy in her brain.

"You want to act like a brat, I will treat you like one. I warned you and you didn't listen, you pay for it." You give her a stern stare and turn away waiting for the elevator.

You unlock the door and immediately rush her inside and press you lips harshly against hers.

You push her into the door, making the wind leave her lungs as she moans into the kiss.

You slip your tongue into her mouth you pin her to the door by her waist, her arms going to your neck.

You both make out for what feels like years before you wrap you hand around her neck again and push her towards the bed.

You pull of her jacket before pushing her on the bed, crawling onto of her.

You lean down to start kissing on her neck, her hand fly's up to thread her finger in you hair, pushing you tighter to her neck, moaning when you kiss certain spots.

Her legs wrap around your waist as your on your knees on the bed in-between them. Your hands roaming her sides and travel to her thighs and rub and squeeze them before sitting up.

"Why did you stop?" She has a look of confusion on her face before you pull her to a sitting position and take her shirt off. Leaving her in a black bra.

You lay her back down before kissing on her cleavage, not taking her bra off yet.

She tries to lean up and take it off before you push her back down.

"I didn't say take it off, did I?" You keep pressing your hand on her stomach, holding her still.

"No" She shakes her head.

"Then why are you moving?" You don't give her time to answer before you smash you lips on hers again, slipping your tongue in between her lips.

You reach down and move her out of her shorts, leaving her in a matching black Victorias secret set you got her for her birthday.

You start kissing from her jaw to her cleavage again. Not taking off her bra, where she wants you.

Moving lower, you kiss down her stomach, leaving hickies on her stomach, unable to be seen by any one but you, just like the ones on her boobs.

She moans and lifts her hips to try and get your mouth to her clothed pussy, where she needs you. You press her hips down to the bed before continuing your slow kissing down her to hips and thighs.

"Babe please." She whines pulls on your hair slightly. "Be patient or you get nothing."

That makes her stop fighting and her moans continue.

You press a kiss to her clothed clit, making her moan and jerk her hips up, unable too though by your strong arm holding her down.

You continue to kiss her clothed clit, making her moans escalate, before leaving and kissing her inner thighs.

She remembers what you said earlier, so she says nothing.

You finally sit up and unclip her bra. Immediately leaning down and latching onto her hard nipple.

She moans loudly and tries to grind onto your thigh, pressing your head closer to her breast, trying to get more pressure.

"Your being so good baby, wish you were this good earlier." You make eye contact with her and she moans louder, watching you switch nipples and pinching the other one.

After some time, you sit up and pull her underwear down, watching her slick drip down her pussy.

The scene is so pornagraphic, it makes you moan, already wanting to taste her.

"You know what to say when its too much, right babe?" You rub her thigh and making sure she knew when to tell you if it was too much.

"Yes love." She reassures you and that's all you needed to hear before leaning down and licking a long stripe from her entrance to her clit, earning a loud moan from her.

You lap at her entrance, wanting to taste her before pushing your tongue into her, her hand pushing your face deeper into her.

She starts grinding your face as your tongue fuck her, her moans extremely loud, waiting for this all day.

"Im close." She warns you and you pull away.

She gives you a pathetic whine and sends you a begging look, she feels you coat your finger in her slick before you lean down to press a kiss to her swollen lips.

She moans at the taste of herself on your tongue, reaching behind your neck to deepen it.

While she does that you plunge two long finger into her pussy, making her moan and break the kiss, throwing her head back in pleasure.

You don't wait for her to adjust before fucking her in a bruising pace, making her release loud moans and arch her back.

You cant help but admire her like this. Back arched, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open, releasing loud moans reserved for you. Your finger plunging deep into her, feeling her slick coat your fingers. Its like an amazing dream.

"Im close" She warns again, but this time you keep going.

"Not yet babe." You say and she starts squirming, trying hard to hold back the knot in her stomach.

"Please please baby please let me come." She begs you, eyes still not open, meeting yours.

"Apologize for earlier, apologize for acting like a brat in public." You demand her, you pace quickening.

"Im sorry babe im sorry I regret it im sorry." She practically screams, so lost in pleasure.

"Come right now, coat my fingers." Immediately after you give her access she comes all over your hand, her juices spilling out all over your hand and onto the sheets.

But this doesn't stop you, you keep pounding into her overstimulated pussy, making her yell out in pleasure and overstimulation.

"Come on babe, give me one more. I know you can my love." She whimpers at the sweet words of encouragement, her grip on the white comforter tightening . before feeling the knot in her stomach again, she releases all over you, coating the sheets and your arm once again.

"Shhh that's it baby, ride it out just like that. Good girl." You coo at her before leaning down and kissing her temples and forehead.

She lays her back down on the bed, releasing her grip on the comforter. You brush her hair from her sweaty forehead and press soft kisses on her face, bringing her back down from her high.

"Are you okay love?" You ask softly, caressing her cheeks and she opens her eyes.

"There you are my sweet girl." You smile at her softly before kissing her lips. Running your fingers through her hair before going to get up.

"Where are you going?" She asks, sleep evident in her voice.

"I will be back baby, don't fall asleep just yet." Knowing she won't follow that last ask, she never does.

You walk into the big bathroom and run a hot bath, adding epson salts into it and bubbles before lighting a candle that came with the hotel and turning the lights off.

Walking back into the hotel room, you see she wrapped herself in the blanket you both used on the plane, smiling you go to walk up to her before hearing a bang on the door.

You walk up to it, peeking through the key hole, seeing Katie standing there, you all of a sudden remember you are in a hotel, and Alessia's loud moan were for sure heard.

You crack open the door before sticking your head out.

"Wow surprised you could walk with all of the yelling we heard." You see Beth leaning against the wall smiling to herself.

"I don't know what you mean, that wasn't us." You smirk at her before closing the door. Katie trying to knock again, but no answer.

You walk over to Alessia's sleeping form before brushing some hair behind her ear, causing her eyes to flutter back open.

"Come on love, a bath is run for you." She shakes her head, causing you to let out a laugh before picking up her naked, tired form.

Her face immediately tucks into her neck as you walk her to the bathroom.

You move her around in your arms to where your holding her bridal style and gently set her down in the warm water.

She smiles at the feeling, but her smile fades when she notices your not in it with her,

She reaches for your had before noticing your undressing yourself, smiling she leans forward to give you room.

You sit behind her wrapping your arms around her waist and pressing kisses to the side of her head.

"I love you so much." She says, turning her head to look you in the eyes.

"I love you too, more than you know." You both give each other soft smile before she leans up and kisses your lips.

After you both are done washing up, you both pile into the bed, the other bed than the one you both were... having fun on.

You pull her into your chest and press kisses into her hair before she falls asleep. You know you will get teased tomorrow because of this, but you don't care.

You hug her tighter, and fall off the cliff of sleep, joining your lover.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[zepskies]

Hi, how are you?

I was wondering if you could write something like "Dean reads you wrong" but with Sam Please

Hey, lovely!

I'm doing well, thank you. 💜 I hope you are too! Hmm, I'm still working through my current bank of requests, but since "Dean reads you wrong" is so fresh, it got me thinking about how Sam would go about this...

Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: It's hard for Sam to admit he wants you...when he thinks you might want his brother.

Song Inspo: "If You're Gone" by Matchbox Twenty

Word Count: 1,600 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, fear of unrequited love, mutual pining

Imagine: Sam reads you wrong.

When Sam falls for someone, he's...well, what he would call self-aware.

But also cautious.

He knows his own track record with women. He knows the life he leads, and has resigned himself to giving up most kinds of normalcy or domesticity.

And maybe, a part deep in the back of his brain has given up on the idea of love.

That's why it's so damn confounding...how you've managed to take him by surprise.

He's always been able to rely on you. Whether it's sharing the brunt of the research with him when Dean loses focus, or staying up with Sam on late nights, sharing mugs of tea and quiet conversation, bonding over familiar tastes in books, and '90s grunge music, of all things.

You also confessed to him, late one night, that you have a growing collection of mugs, fuzzy socks, and vinyl records, despite the fact that your record player has collected more dust than the bunker's old storage room.

You're wonderfully weird.

And you're unfailingly loyal to who you consider "your people." And Sam thinks (knows) he's fortunate enough to be included in that small circle.

Sam also knows, deep in his gut, no matter how much he tries to "rationalize" it away, that you're special. And special to him.

You've managed to do more than just slip under his skin. When he thinks too hard on it, he can admit it (just to himself). You've infiltrated all four corners of his heart so deeply, he doesn't have a prayer of scooping you out.

Some days, it's all he can do not to reach out while you're chatting away, filling the silence.

He can picture it like a scene in his mind: of interrupting your mouth with a gentle hand on your cheek, tilting your face up to his and showing you, with or without words, that he wants you...

And yet.

He can't help but watch how you are with Dean.

You two tease each other, bicker and gripe over coffee grinds left in the coffee pot and who ate the last of the leftovers. You fight with Dean over the remote on movie night (once, damn near smothering him with a pillow).

But you also dote on him, making sure Dean has one of his favorite desserts every time you go out to buy groceries. You swap his beer out for water when he's not looking. (And though Dean frowns and grumbles, he doesn't argue with your raised brow and imploring look.)

It's not quite flirting, but it's not quite platonic either—at least in Sam's eyes. You and Dean seem to have something.

And sometimes, your playful banter with his brother makes Sam sick to his stomach.

Like today, when Sam’s sitting at the kitchen table reading while you're making a cup of tea. The silence between you two is amiable, like usual.

Sam steals a glance at you and has to smile.

"Going with purple polka dots today?" he asks.

You look over with knitted brows of confusion, until you follow his gaze. You laugh sheepishly and wiggle your toes through your fuzzy socks.

"The floor is cold as hell," you defend yourself.

Sam's smile deepens a fraction as he turns back to his book.

"They're cute," he adds.

You turn your face to hide your blush. The mild thunder of heavy boots announces Dean's presence as he pops into the kitchen.

"Oh good, you're cooking. What's for dinner?" he asks. You turn to give him a familiar narrowed look.

"Who says I'm cooking?" you counter.

"Well, you're doing something on the stove..." Dean peers over and catches a whiff of the concoction you're brewing. He grimaces. "Second thought, I'm good. That smells like ass, whatever it is."

You roll your eyes at him. "It's just green tea, Dean. You know, health?"

He levels a deadpan expression at you as he opens up the pantry.

"I see your 'health' and I raise you...Doritos," he says. He digs his hand into the bag he's just pilfered and crunches a mouthful in your face. You can't help but splutter a laugh and push Dean away.

"You're ridiculous. If you catch a heart attack at 50, don't come crying to me."

"Hey, at least I'll die happy."

"Oh, right. A silver lining there. I'd hate to see what your arteries look like," you tease.

"Has anyone told you that you're unsavory?" Dean asks, continuing to crunch with an open mouth.

You smirk. "Is that your way of calling me sweet?"

He snorts. "Sure, sweetheart. We'll call it that."

"You know, I'm not your sweetheart," you point out.

Dean discreetly glances his brother's way with a sly glint in his eyes. Sam doesn't see it; by now he's trying his damndest to keep his eyes in his book and ignore the way his stomach is clenching, chest tightening.

Dean shifts his attention back at you and reaches down to brush your chin with his thumb.

"Not yet, but you could be," he says, in a flirtatious edge that he's never quite taken with you.

You're wide-eyed for a moment. In the end, though, you choose to take it as teasing. You push his hand away and give him an annoyed look.

"God, you're such a clown. Order a pizza if you're that hungry," you rejoin, and you pour two mugs of freshly brewed tea. "I won't even bother offering you one."

"Nope," Dean says, popping the "p." He walks out of the kitchen, giving Sam a firm slap on the back. Sam coughs and shoots his brother a frown.

Dean has the gall to wink at him before he walks out. Like he's having his own little private joke.

Well, Sam isn't laughing. He stares down hard at his book. He tries to ignore everything he just heard and saw out of the corner of his eye.

It becomes too much. He takes up his book and heads out of the kitchen.

He just doesn't see the way you frown as he walks away. There you stand, left holding two mugs of tea for you and him.

Sam returns to his room for a while. He's not hiding. He's...reading.

There's a knock at his door, and if it's Dean, he swears he's going to open his mouth and tell his brother to leave him the hell alone, like he's some kind of moody teen.

But it's you.

"Hey," you greet, after the door creaks open. Sam softens.

"Hey," he says, clearing his throat. "What's up?"

"You," you reply. You bring him his hot mug of tea and set it down on the desk where he sits.

"Thanks," he says.

You nod and place your mug beside his (Lord of the Rings themed, of course), and cross your arms as you lean against his desk.

Sam turns toward you in his chair. His hands rest on his thighs. His gaze travels back up to your face as he tries to keep his neutral, but welcoming to whatever you want to ask him. (He buries his heart deep, as he instinctively does whenever you're near him.)

"You okay?" you ask. Your brows furrow the longer you gaze down at him. Just staring, like you know he's hiding something. Like you can see straight into him, into the shadows where he keeps most of his thoughts of you.

This is perhaps the only area of his life where he's a coward.

"Yeah, I'm good," Sam replies, in a tone that suggests, Why wouldn't I be?

You quirk a smile. "Why don't I believe you?"

Sam swallows. For once, he's not sure what to say to you.

"You know you can talk to me, right?" you say softly. You take a subtle step into his orbit, almost between his open legs. Your demeanor says that you'd gladly listen, do whatever he asked of you. Because you're just that kind.

Sam's mouth twitches upward. "I know. I'm fine, really."

"You're fine, or you're Winchester fine?" you raise a brow.

Sam chuckles then, showing a flash of his smile. It lightens you.

"Maybe a bit of the second one," he admits.

You smile and inch closer, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah? Tell me," you say. Your voice is soft, but not quite a whisper.

It leads Sam to sigh. He grasps your hand where it lies on his shoulder. For a moment, he debates internally. He realizes then that Dean's antics earlier might've been more than just teasing. Maybe it was a subtle nudge—to stop wasting time.

Damn it, just do something, Sam thinks.

When you squeeze his hand back, it's just the small push he needs. He glances up at you.

Then he takes your hand and holds it between both of his, with care. He tugs you forward, surprising you as you step forward between his legs. Your mouth parts in soft surprise when he reaches a hand up to your cheek.

You still look surprised, blushing up to your ears, but you're not pulling away. In fact, your widened gaze moves from his eyes to his lips.

Sam smiles. He tugs you down to him and enacts a living daydream, finally kissing you with everything he has. Everything he’s had locked inside.

You respond to his mouth in kind; the subtle gasp of breath against his lips sharply cuts off as you sink into his kiss. Your trembling hand comes to his cheek, grazing the dull prickle of stubble. When your fingers dive into his hair next, it’s his turn to take a deep breath.

With each new kiss, he explores more of you. His hands find your waist, and he gathers you against his chest. You find purchase on his strong shoulders and give into the opportunity to straddle his hips, sitting in his lap while he continues to make your heartbeat wild in your chest.

Sam slows the kiss, only because his brain is starting to catch up with his heart. He wants to see your face, to make sure this is what you want.

He finds that and more when he looks up at you.

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, tenderly brushing his thumb against your cheek.

"Does that answer your question?" he asks, with a soft laugh. You join him and press your forehead against his.

"I don't know,” you tease. Your eyes are dancing, both with amusement and relief. Because your heart has wanted this for even longer than Sam's.

You lean back in to whisper close to his lips. “Maybe I need a little more clarity."

Sam takes you at your word.

AN: It's been a long time since I've written for Sam! 💜 I got in another request for him a while ago. I may dust that one off soon... Until then, let me know what you think of this!

(And don't worry. I didn't forget about the Soldier Boy imagine I promised. That will come out at the end of this week, most likely!)

Read Dean's version: "Dean reads you wrong."

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[caitified]

player

caitlin clark x reader

warning:none

when you first met caitlin, it was easy to see why people were drawn to her. she was magnetic—every room she entered, every conversation she started, it was all effortless. but there was also the reputation that preceded her. people knew her as the star who never stayed in one place for long, especially when it came to relationships. caitlin clark wasn’t exactly known for settling down, and she didn’t try to hide it. she’d be spotted out with different women, never keeping any one person in her orbit for long.

so, when caitlin’s attention turned to you, you were more than a little skeptical.

she met you at a party—some mutual friend’s get-together after one of her games. you were minding your own business, maybe even hoping to get out early, when she approached you.

“hey”, she said, her smile warm but teasing. “you’re not just here for the free drinks, are you?”

you blinked, surprised she was talking to you. “and if i am?”

she laughed, a low, genuine sound that made your stomach do a little flip. “then you’re my kind of person.”

you chuckled, giving her a skeptical look. “don’t you have an entire fanbase waiting to talk to you?”

she shrugged, her eyes not leaving yours. “they’re not as interesting as you.”

it was flattering, of course, but you weren’t new to her game. she was caitlin clark, and she was known for treating people like passing thrills—fun for a while, but never sticking around for long. so you kept her at arm’s length, playing it cool and keeping your responses polite but distant. after all, you weren’t interested in being another one of her short-lived flings.

but caitlin wasn’t one to give up. over the next few weeks, she found ways to stay in touch. she’d text you good morning, send you funny pictures, and ask you out for coffee or a casual dinner. each time, you told yourself to keep your guard up, but she was hard to resist. she was charming and attentive, always knowing just what to say to make you laugh or feel special. she’d remember little things you told her, bringing them up in later conversations as if to show you she was listening.

still, that nagging voice in the back of your mind kept telling you this was temporary. after all, she was still seen out with different people, and the tabloids loved to speculate about her love life. every time you started to let your guard down, you’d see a picture of her with someone else, smiling that same smile, looking just as charming as she did when she was with you. it was a painful reminder that you weren’t the only one she paid attention to.

one night, after an especially intense game, she called you, her voice sounding unusually quiet. “are you free tonight? i’d love to see you.”

you hesitated, part of you wanting to say yes, the other part reminding you of all the reasons you’d kept her at a distance. but something in her voice—something soft, almost vulnerable—made you agree. when she showed up at your door, she looked different, tired and almost…nervous. she wasn’t the composed, larger-than-life caitlin you were used to. she looked more like a real person, like someone who was carrying a weight they couldn’t quite shake off.

“thanks for letting me come over,” she said, stepping inside, her voice soft.

“you sounded like you needed it,” you replied, trying to keep things casual.

she sighed, running a hand through her hair. “i just…it’s been a rough week.” she looked at you, her eyes tired but sincere. “i know i come across as this person who doesn’t care, who just floats from one thing to the next…but it’s not like that with you.”

you arched an eyebrow, trying to hide your skepticism. “it’s hard to believe that when i see you out with different people all the time.”

she looked down, a flash of regret crossing her face. “i know. and i get it—that’s on me. i know i haven’t given you any reason to believe me.” she paused, taking a deep breath. “but you’re not just anyone to me. i don’t know how to explain it, but with you…it feels different.”

you felt your heart tug, but you kept your expression guarded. “i’m just not interested in being someone’s temporary distraction, caitlin.”

she took a step closer, her gaze intense. “you’re not a distraction. if anything, you’re the only thing that feels real.” she reached out, hesitating for a moment before taking your hand. “when i’m with you, it’s like all the noise fades away. i don’t care about the attention or the spotlight—I just want to be with you.”

you wanted to believe her, wanted to let yourself fall into the warmth of her words. but every time you started to soften, memories of all the times you’d seen her with someone else would resurface, reminding you of the risk. “i don’t know, caitlin,” you said, pulling your hand away gently. “i don’t know if i can trust this. it’s hard to shake the feeling that…that i’m just another thrill for you.”

she looked devastated, her hands clenching and unclenching as if she didn’t know what to do. “i get that. i do. and if it takes time for you to believe me, then i’ll wait. i just need you to know that i’m not going anywhere.”

you were silent, your mind a whirlwind of doubts and emotions. she was caitlin clark, the girl who could have anyone, the girl who’d never settled down for anyone before. but as you looked into her eyes, you saw something you hadn’t seen before—something raw, almost desperate. it was as if she was afraid of losing you, and it made your heart ache.

over the next few weeks, caitlin continued to prove herself. she stopped going out with other people, spending most of her time with you, and making small but meaningful gestures that showed you how serious she was. she’d come over with your favorite coffee, show up after her games with a tired smile, and spend hours just talking with you, listening to your stories and sharing her own.

slowly, you found yourself letting her in, bit by bit. it was terrifying—every time you felt yourself falling, a part of you braced for impact, for the moment she’d realize she was ready to move on. but she never did. she stayed consistent, steady, proving over and over that she wasn’t just here for a good time.

one evening, as you were both curled up on your couch, she looked at you, her gaze softer than you’d ever seen. “i know you’re scared,” she murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “i know i don’t have the best track record. but i’m here because i want you. i don’t want anyone else.”

you looked into her eyes, feeling the last of your walls crumble. “if you hurt me…”

she pulled you close, her arms wrapping around you protectively. “i won’t. i promise.” her voice was barely above a whisper, filled with a sincerity that made your heart flutter.

and in that moment, you realized that maybe, just maybe, caitlin clark could be the one worth taking a risk for.

[waitimcomingtoo]

And I Wouldn’t Marry Me Either

Pairing: Tom Holland x singer!reader

Synopsis: you release some songs about Tom after a disagreement ends in a breakup

Masterlist

“Marry me.”

“Right now? But I just got comfortable.” Tom mumbled into his pillow with a sleepy smile.

“I’m serious.” You whispered through a laugh and shook his shoulder. Tom’s eyes slowly opened and he could see the blurry outline of you lying next to him in your bed.

“What?”

“I’m just thinking.” You began. “We’ve been together five years.”

“I’m aware.” Tom laughed and snuggled back into his pillow.

“So we should do it. We should get married.” You propped yourself up on your elbow to look at him.

“We are married. Everyone knows you’re my girl.” Tom said without opening his eyes and pulled you into his arms. He tried to go back to sleep but you still wanted to talk.

“I know.” You laughed. “But I want to make it official.”

“What, in Gods eyes and all that? I didn’t think you cared about that.” He laughed dismissively and rolled over. You sat up fully in the bed and looked down at him.

“It’s not about that. I want the flowers and the dress and the rings. Don’t you want that?” You asked and shook him a little to clue him in that you were trying to have a serious conversation. You watched Tom shrug and roll onto his back to look up at you.

“I don’t know. I always found weddings kinda dumb.”

“What? What do you mean dumb?” You forced a laugh and tried to hide the disappointment in your tone.

“I mean, like, they’re not even legally binding. It’s this whole big celebration that people spend their life savings on just to get drunk and slid rings on each other fingers. You still have to go to the courthouse to get married and even that’s just a piece of paper.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize you felt that way.” You laughed shortly and picked at your nail polish to look busy.

“I didn’t realize you felt a different way.” He said and rolled back onto his stomach. Tom closed his eyes to go back to sleep and you felt your heart sink in your chest. You got out of the bed and opened the curtains a little to distract yourself with the view. You touched the silky white curtains and smiled to yourself as you thought of all the pictures of white dresses you had saved on your Pinterest throughout the years.

“I’ve always dreamed of my wedding.” You said over your shoulder. “I think every little girl does at some point. Every rom com I grew up on ends with the perfect fairy tale wedding. I always wanted that. I wanted my happy ending.”

“But those are just movies. I bet half those couples wouldn’t last in real life.”

“But it’s sweet that they plan that special day together and then get to celebrate their love in front of all their family and friends.”

“Yeah, all that planning just so they can get divorced before the first year is up.” Tom snorted. “I think the whole idea of weddings are stupid. I mean, you spend all that time and money planning for a one day event that people will just attend for the free booze. Plus, women starve themselves for months and spend thousands of dollars on a dress they’ll wear once? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Wow. Tell me how you really feel, Tom.” You laughed shortly and folded your arms to glare at him. Tom sensed your tone and sat up in bed to pay better attention.

“I just think it’s all so ancient.” He shrugged. “I’m surprised you don’t agree. Weddings cannot exist without all the bullshit sexist traditions. I mean, the white dress to symbolize the brides supposed purity, the father of the bride literally “giving her away” to another man after being asked permission to get engaged in the first place, and then to top it off with her taking his last name because she’s now his property or something. It’s all so trivial and perverse.”

“It doesn’t have to be like that. Those traditions may be rooted in old fashioned thinking but I think it’s sweet to ask for my fathers permission. And yeah, I do want my dad holding my hand and walking me down the aisle. He’s not giving me away to be another man’s property, he’s standing by my side as I enter a new chapter of my life. Which is why I want my mama right there on my other side. Plus, lots of people hyphenate their last names nowadays. It doesn’t have to be this monstrous sexism fest you’re making it out to be.” You rolled your eyes and walked into the bathroom that was attached to your bedroom. Tom frowned when you shut the door. You usually left it open a crack when you did your morning skincare routine, but today, you were shutting him out. Tom got out of bed and walked into the bathroom to see you. You didn’t look up at him as you washed your face.

“Come on. Are you seriously mad because I dissed your rom coms?” Tom said as he put his hands on your hips and kissed your shoulder.

“I’m not mad about that.” You mumbled and brushed him off.

“Then what are you mad about, sour patch?” He teased and kissed your shoulder again.

“I’m mad because I’ve been getting my nails done weekly leading up to our five year anniversary just in case you proposed and you just told me that’s never even crossed your mind!” You exclaimed as hot tears of embarrassment brimmed your eyes. You stormed out of the bathroom and when Tom processed what you had said, he followed after you.

“I don’t believe in marriage, okay? I think it’s unnecessary. Why can’t we just live like this forever? What’s the difference?”

“The difference is pretty big. But I guess you don’t see it like that.” You shrugged and kept walking away from him.

“Can you honestly tell me what would be different between us if we signed a stupid piece of paper at the courthouse or didn’t?” Tom said as he put his hands on your shoulders to keep you in place for a second.

“The difference is I’d be your wife and not just the pathetic girlfriend who stayed even though you didn’t lock it down.” You raised your voice at him and pushed his hands off of you.

“So you only want to get married because you care what people think? How romantic.” Tom rolled his eyes at you.

“That’s not the only reason. I want to get married because it’s important to me. It’s a public commitment where we promise to love and protect each other forever. I want that.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t. I don’t need a ceremony to do that. I can promise you that right here.” Tom calmed down and took your hands.

“But that’s not special.” You sighed and withdrew your hands.

“If you don’t find that special then maybe you don’t love me as much as you think you do.” Tom said, immediately regretting it.

“What?” You whispered and looked into his eyes to see if he was serious.

“Look, darling, I’m sorry.” He said softly. “I just don’t see the point in marriage. I don’t need to prove I love you with a ring and wedding. I chose to love you every day. That’s enough for me.”

“What if it’s not enough for me?” You genuinely asked him as you wondered it for yourself.

“Then maybe you need to stop being so shallow and materialistic and ask yourself if you’re with me because you love me or because you want to play out some childhood fantasy that you saw in a stupid movie.” He shouted.

You both instantly got quiet. You were quiet for a very long time.

“I didn’t even mean that.”

“I don’t even care.” Your voice cracked as you grabbed your purse and slammed the front door behind you when you left.

“Is this one okay?” Harrison asked, pulling Tom out of his daydream. He replayed that fight over in his head about a dozen times a day. If his mind wasn’t occupied by something at all times, he’d perform an autopsy on that last conversation with you to try and understand what he should’ve done differently.

“What?” Tom asked without looking at his friend. He was too busy staring at the seat you always used to sit in at the kitchen counter.

“Can I use this one?” Harrison repeated and held up a muted purple mug as the tea kettle went off in the background. Tom tore his eyes away from your chair and when he saw the mug, all he could picture was your lipstick stain that used to stain it.

“That’s Y/n’s mug.” Tom said, descending a chill over the room. Harry and Sam’s attention was caught and they looked at Tom to see where this conversation was going.

“Oh. Sorry. I’ll put it back.” Harry said and quickly went to put it back in the cabinet.

“It’s fine. She’s not using it.” Tom shrugged. Everyone looked at each other as the awkwardness became palpable.

“How’s she’s doing?” Sam asked and sipped his tea to seem less interested than he really was.

“She’s good. Shes been recording some stuff at her New York studio. New music and whatnot.” Tom replied. He didn’t know this because you told him. He knew this because he’d been stalking your fanpages for every possible sighting of you.

“Have you guys talked lately?” Harry asked.

“Not really. Not since she left.” Tom admitted without looking up at his friends.

“You guys didn’t break up, did you?” Harrison asked, worsening the icy tension. Tom froze at the question for a minute and then shrugged. He didn’t really know what the answer was. In the weeks you’d been gone, you’d make small talk sometimes about work and the weather, but it never went beyond that. It was more to be polite. You kept in touch enough to know what the other was up to on a weekly basis, but you both knew you were dragging out something that had died. You wanted Tom to just say it was over already instead of pretending everything was normal, but he was never going to do that.

“I don’t know. We left things kinda up in the air.” Tom replied. The boys exchanged glances and Harrison nodded to let them know he was gonna take charge.

“Up in the air?” He questioned.

“Yep. Up in the air. Ambiguous. Vague. Open to interpretation. Call it what you want.” Tom shrugged again like it didn’t matter, but it did.

“Well what was the last thing you said to each other?” Harry wondered.

“She said she needed some space and was going to New York. And I said okay.” Tom recalled.

“What about before that?”

“I don’t know. We didn’t talk much in the days leading up to her leaving.” Tom replied and took a long sip of his tea.

“She didn’t speak to you?” Sam asked.

“She did.” Tom nodded. “Sometimes.”

“You didn’t speak to her?” Harrison asked, already knowing the answer.

“I didn’t have anything to say.” Tom shrugged. Nobody spoke a word, but all the boys were thinking the same thing. They knew how bad this was, and that it signaled the end of your relationship.

“What?” Tom asked when he noticed the shift in vibe.

“I’m just surprised.” Harrison shrugged. “You guys were never like this. I can’t even remember your last fight.”

“We didn’t fight. You can’t fight when you don’t speak.” Tom said with a sarcastic smile.

“You should call her.” Harry suggested. “It’s gonna be at least a week since she’s been there, right?”

“Four weeks.” Tom corrected without meeting anyone’s else.

“Mate, you gotta call her.” Harry said quietly and put his hand on Tom’s shoulder.

“I can’t.” Tom shook his head.

“Why not?”

“She can’t break up with me if I don’t talk to her. As long as we don’t have that conversation, we’ll still be together.”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works, Buddy.” Harrison said apologetically. Tom sucked in a sharp breath and looked at his friend with tears brimming his bloodshot eyes.

“I don’t know what else to do.” He said with a crack in his voice.

“Oh shit.” Sam said suddenly, getting everyone’s attention.

“What?” Tom asked.

“She’s dropping a song tonight. She just announced it.” Sam said and showed Tom your Twitter. Tom took Sam’s phone to read your announcement better. Sure enough, you had posted a picture of you dramatically lying across a piano bench with your left hand covering half of your face. You had a ring on every finger except for your ring finger, a detail that wasn’t lost on Tom. He handed Sam’s phone back and look at the floor.

“You didn’t know about this?” Sam asked, and Tom shook his head. He’d gone from being the first person you played every song for to finding out on Twitter that you had a song coming out.

“What’s it called?” Harrison wondered. Sam looked down at his phone to read the title and gulped.

“Who cares?” Sam forced a laugh and put his phone away.

“What’s it called?” Tom asked again.

“You Don’t Know Me Anymore.” Sam mumbled. Tom shut his eyes and hung his head in shame. He hadn’t even heard the song yet but knew it was going to be bad news.

“When does that come out?” He asked Sam.

“Midnight. Tonight.”

Tom’s friends stayed with him all day until midnight rolled around. At 11:58, Tom placed his laptop on the kitchen table and opened YouTube. He knew you always released lyric videos when you dropped a new song and he needed to reach every single world you said. When midnight came, he refreshed his screen and clicked on your video. The background image was a picture of you looking in a mirror with messy hair. You had digitally added sparkly, purple tears to run down the still image of your face. You played a couple notes on the piano before the lyrics appeared beside your face in your handwriting.

“I wish you’d just put me out of my misery

You already know I’m at your mercy

I don’t know why you’re dragging this out

You have all the power, if that’s what this is about

I’m not gonna be the one who walks away

So I need you to say what you want to say

I already know it’s over so just let it end

Please don’t give me the pity of asking to stay friends.”

“I don’t think we should be listening to this.” Sam said as he paused the video.

“Play it.” Tom demanded. Sam sighed and pressed play while the other exchanged looks.

“I’ve been feeling you leaving

I hate this part more than the ending

The moments leading up when I know your heart has changed

I don’t know why we keep pretending

If it’s done just say it’s done

Don’t just change your mind and not tell me

I already know so just let me go

Don’t just watch as I sit and bleed.”

“I don’t think-“ Sam began as he paused it again.

“Stop pausing it.” Tom cut him off. “Play it. I need to hear it.”

Sam pressed play again and Tom pulled the laptop over to himself so he could control it.

“Cause I cut my hand on that first crack in the glass

I feel the icy air between us when you pass me

So I took your chain off from around my neck

I’ll think of something else your initial can stand for

You don’t deserve to see me wearing it anyway

You don’t know me anymore.”

Tom didn’t realize he had started to cry until his tears his his keyboard. He couldn’t see the video anymore from his blurry his eyes had gotten. He wiped his face and leaned on his hands to give the song better attention.

“You know I would die for you in secret

Like that song I showed you in my car

I don’t think you even listened to it

You didn’t draw stars around my scars

You drew your arrow and let it fly

Right into my heart and let me die

Actually, I wish that was the curtesy you provided

Instead, you let this love become one sided

And now we’re shattered like a glass that was dropped

You broke my heart until the day that it stopped

You never got down on knee

Even when I crumbled onto both of mine

I wonder if you ever really wanted me

How did you think we were fine?

And at what part did you realize you liked the idea of me?

But who I actually am isn’t someone you wanted

I miss who I was before we met

Now I can’t go back, I’m haunted

And you were right not to marry me

If I could walk away from me too, I would

You were right to leave when you did

I know I would too if I could

But I’m stuck here with myself

Forever scratching and clawing at your door

Keep it all, even my memories

You’re lucky you don’t know me anymore.”

Everyone sat in silence once the song ended. Tom wiped his eyes again but tears just kept falling down his face.

“That probably wasn’t even about you.” Harrison said after a long beat of silence. Tom gave him a look before turning to his brothers.

“What do you think?” He asked Harry.

“It sounds like she’s hurting too.” Harry shrugged. “I think you’re both waiting for the other to say you’re broken up.”

“Well I’m not saying it.” Tom stated. “She has to.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Sam asked kindly.

“Then we don’t break up.”

“Again, I’m not really sure that’s how it works.”

“Well it’s what I’m going with. Because I can’t break up with her.” Tom sniffled and shut the laptop.

“But you can’t go on like this either.” Sam pointed out.

“She’ll come home when she’s ready.” Tom said, but no one in the room believed him.

And didn’t come home for a while.

After another week of silence, Tom flew to New York to see you. He got to your apartment and knocked on your door without any particular plan in mind. You opened it with a smile but when you saw who it was, you tensed up.

“Hi.” He said with a sad smile.

“If you came to to propose to me as some kind of grand gesture-“

“Please, let me talk.” He cut you off. You sighed and nodded as you leaned against your doorway.

“We have different opinions. But I don’t love or respect anyone more than you. So I am willing to hear your side, which is not something I did last time we spoke about this. I was just listening for what I could rebuttal against. I wasn’t actually listening to understand your thoughts and feelings. But I’m ready now.” He said. You nodded again and seemed to drop the wall that you had put up.

“It matters to me that we get married.” You told him. “I know you think it’s pointless and doesn’t change anything, but it changes things for me. If you picked out a ring, asked my parents permission, and got down on one knee, that would all make me feel special and loved. Those things matter to me in a relationship.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t know that.”

“But now you do know so if you propose, I know you’re just gonna do it to appease me. I’ll always know that you think it’s stupid when I look at the ring.”

“I admit that it found it a little dumb in the past. But it matters to you. And nothing that matters to you can be stupid.”

“I can’t get married to you knowing you don’t really want it. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to me.” You said and went to close the door.

“But I can’t lose you. My thoughts on marriage literally do not matter to me in the slightest. If it’s important to you and if it is what it takes to make you feel special and loved, then I want it too.” Tom pleaded as he pushed your door back open.

“But you don’t want it. You just don’t want to break up.”

“I can put on a tux for a night and suffer through if it means that much to you.” He said with a slight laugh to lighten the mood. Your face changed and he had somehow made the situation worse.

“Suffer?” You asked quietly with a told of your head.

“I’m sorry. That was a poor choice of words. But darling, I’m saying we can get married. I’ll do whatever it is you want. Why do you still look so upset?”

“Because you don’t get it.” You shook your head. “And I’m afraid you never will.”

“What don’t I get? I don’t understand. I’m telling you I’ll give you what you want.”

“But you don’t want it too. That’s what I’m trying to say. It’s the principle, Tom. Remember how disappointed I was that one time when I said I wanted ice cream so we went to the shop but you didn’t get anything? I didn’t mean I wanted ice cream. I meant I wanted us to get ice cream together so we could eat it and spend time together. This is like that but times a million. You can’t compromise on marriage. You either believe in it or you don’t. So even if we did get married, it wouldn’t mean to you what it means to me. I would always think back to that conversation we had and remember how you really feel about marriage. I keep replaying all the things you said that day in my head. We both know how you feel about marriage and we both know it’s not something you want.”

“So that one conversation ruined it for you? Completely?” He asked.

“Yes, it did.” You answered truthfully. You stared at each other for a minute as both your eyes welled with tears. You both knew you’d reached a stalemate and there was nothing more to be done.

“So what do we do now?” Tom asked without looking at you.

“I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone.” You told him, making him perk up.

“So do I.” He smiled as tears rolled down his face.

“But what if that’s not enough?” You asked him. Tom froze and felt the situation escaping from him fast.

“We’ve been together almost 5 years, darling. That’s five birthdays, Christmas’s, anniversaries. You make up so much of my life. We’re exactly right for each other. It’s supposed to be you and me in the end. I can’t do this with anyone else.”

“And I can’t do this with you.” You laughed sadly and gestured to him. Tom’s heart dropped in his chest when it became apparent that this was more than just a fight.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“I think I am.” You nodded. Neither of you could believe the words that were coming out of your mouth but it was too late to take them back.

“Does marriage really mean that much to you that you’d rather break up instead of just living a long, happy life together?” Tom asked you.

“I guess it does.” You realized. He stood there in shock as you put a hand on his shoulder and brought him closer to kiss his cheek.

“Goodbye, Tom.” You smiled sadly at him and shut your door.

Another month went by and you did not come home. You busied yourself with your music and dove into your next album, but that didn’t stop you from thinking about him on midnights when you were left alone with your thoughts. Tom thought about you a lot more often, like every time he saw your face on his TV. He tuned in one night to watch you debut your latest music video of your newest song. His eyes were glued to the TV as the video opened with your back to some brown eyed actor.

“You say “I don’t understand” and “I say I know you don’t.” We thought a cure would come through in time, now I fear it won’t.” You sang with your eyes glued to the floor. The setting changed and you were walking through an apartment that Tom recognized.

“She filmed this on Cornelia Street?” Tom whispered to himself and sat back on his couch.

“Remember lookin' at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light.” A smiling version of you sang as she walked though the apartment holding the hand of the actor playing Tom. The setting changed again and you were still in the room, but the lights were off and you were sitting alone in the floor.

“Now, I just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time.” You sang while not looking in the camera. The rest of the video followed in suit. You flashed between happy, golden hued memories with the actor to grey toned solo shots of you sitting alone at your piano or on the floor. The difference in the moods made Tom reminisce on the old times and he wondered how long it has been since he had made you smile the way you were doing in the video.

“Stop, you’re losing me. Stop, stop, stop. You’re losing me.” You sang while looking directly into the camera as a purple heart monitor line ran through the background behind you and eventually flatlined. Tom felt like you were staring right into his soul and realized this was the closest he’d gotten to making eye contact with you in a while. He watched the sad, grey version of yourself split from the happy version and suddenly, there were two of you on the screen while the actor playing Tom ignored them both.

“How long can we be a sad song till we were too far gone to bring back to life?” The both of you sang while Tom’s counterpart read the newspaper and didn’t look at either. He thought of the days leading up to you leaving for New York where he’d be doing exactly that, reading the newspaper to pretend to look busy when he felt you glaring at him. He wiped his face and watched as the scene changed to the three of you at a party. The sad version of you was clinging to Tom’s counterpart defensively while the other version of you yelled at him with a drink in your hand.

“Fighting in only your army. Front lines, don’t you ignore me. I’m the best thing as this party.” You yelled and drunkenly stumbled around while the rest of the party watched.

“You’re losing me.” The grey version whispered into Tom’s ear. He assumed that version represented the part of you that missed him while the other version represented the you that knew it was over. The scene changed again and this time, you were back in the Cornelia Street apartment with an open ring box in the center of the table. There was no ring inside, just a burning flame.

“And I wouldn’t marry me either. A pathological people pleaser.Who only wanted you to see her.” You said into the camera while Tom’s character threw things into a bag behind you and went to leave.

“And I’m fading thinking do something babe! Say something! Lose something, babe. Risk something. You’re losing me! Chose something, babe. I got nothing to believe unless you’re choosing me.” The grey version of you desperately said to Tom’s counterpart as she pulled on his arm to beg him to stay. It was like he couldn’t see her at all and just kept walking towards the door. The golden version of yourself opened the door and pointed for him to get out while the other version of you jumped in front of him and dropped to her knees to get him to stay. Tom’s character walked right through her and she faded to dust, leaving just the one version of yourself to watch him go. The music stopped and you ended up running after him, but he was already gone. You turned and ran down Cornelia Street but didn’t go back into your apartment. You just kept running down the street and turned the block so that the camera couldn’t see you anymore. The camera panned out to show the Cornelia Street sign and a violin version of your song by the same name played in the background as the street sign turned grey and faded into dust. The screen turned black and Tom was left alone in the silence.

After another month, he found himself outside your door again. He knocked on it and felt his heart pound until you opened it up.

“Tom? What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for you. I came to fix this.” He said simply.

“Tom, I don’t know that we can fix this.” You said apologetically. It felt amazing to see him, but it didn’t change the fact that you ultimately wanted different things in life.

“You were right. You can’t compromise on marriage. And you either believe in it or you don’t.” He began before getting down on one knee.

“Tom?” You asked skeptically as your eyes went wide. He pulled a ring box out of his pocket and opened it up for you.

“It’s your moms ring. Your dad gave it to her for the third Valentine’s Day they celebrated together in college. She doesn’t wear it anymore because it’s one size too small, so she gave it to me when I asked them for permission to marry you.”

“You asked them?” You smiled in surprise that he had done one of the things you said mattered to you.

“I did. It was a little awkward to find out your mother already knew all about our previous conversations about marriage so you can probably guess how confused I was.” He said with an embarrassed laugh.

“What did my dad say?”

“He said as long as I make you happy, he’s proud to have me join the family.”

“See? No one’s giving me away to anyone. We’re just creating a bigger family for the two of us.”

“I see that now. I see a lot of the points you made. And what your dad said got me thinking.”

“About?”

“All I want is to make you happy. Which is different from agreeing to things I don’t want to do to appease you. I do want to watch you walk down the aisle in a dress that’s been in your Pinterest board since you were 13. I do want to plan the seating arrangement and introduce my weird friends from college to your weird friends from college. I want to plan the entire thing because that’s something we can do together, and those are my favorite things to do.”

“What about the ceremony? And the marriage license? You don’t want those things.”

“I didn’t at first.” He admitted. “But after actually thinking about it and reevaluating the opinion I formed before I ever even had a serious relationship, I realized I feel differently. You make me feel differently. I would proudly sign my name next to yours on a marriage license. Because I happen to think our names look pretty good together. And as for the ceremony, I know we can’t compromise, but we can collaborate. It doesn’t have to be a huge blowout party. It can be the best elements of the both of us. And we can plan it together.”

“That all sounds very lovely, but it doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t believe in marriage just a few months ago. Am I really supposed to believe you’ve truly changed your mind? What if this is just some grand gesture to win me back that you end up regretting?” You asked him.

“I will never end up regretting promising my love for you in front of our family and friends. I’ll never regret hyphenating our names so that everyone knows I’m a part of a duo. I’ll never regret choosing to legally attach myself to my vets friend and spend the rest of my life with her. But I can tell you with the utmost assurance that I would regret letting you walk away and become a name I wince at for the rest of my life.”

“You felt differently not too long ago.” You quietly reminded him. You wanted so badly to believe him, but you couldn’t fully trust it.

“I changed my mind. I realized somethings are more important than other things. And that you’re more important than anything.”

Your skeptical expression turned into a coy smile as you slid your hand into the one that wasn’t holding the open ring box.

“You never actually said the words.” You told him, making Tom break into a relieved smile.

“Darling, would you make me the happiest man-“

“Eh. Try again. Too cliche.” You cut him off. Tom smiled and shook his head, knowing you weren’t gonna make it easy.

“My love, I don’t want to spend another minute as just your boyfriend.” He tried again.

“Lame. Thumbs down.” You shook your head and pointed your thumb down.

“Would you do me the honor-“

“Yawn.” You interrupted.

“Will you just marry me, you annoying brat?” Tom groaned.

“Tom! I thought you’d never ask!” You gushed over dramatically and put your hand over your heart.

“Is that a yes?” Tom asked as he stood up.

“I have to think about it. I don’t know if marriage is for me.” You shrugged as he slid the ring onto your finger. You looked down at the ring and remembered the time you tried it on as a little girl and how it didn’t fit your finger until now.

“Yes. I will marry you.” You smiled as you looked back up at Tom. Tom broke into a grin and scooped you up to spin you around.

“Sorry I wrote all those emo songs about you.” You said into his ear, making him laugh.

“It’s okay. It’s what you do.” He couldn’t stop smiling as he set you down. He then pulled you in for a long kiss to make up for all the time you were apart. When you pulled away, he pulled your face back towards him with his hands to kiss your left cheek.

“I see you.” He said, then kissed you right cheek.

“I choose you.” He continued, then kissed your forehead.

“I love you.” He said, the kissed your nose before looking into your eyes.

“And I know you.” He told you. You smiled softly and nodded your head.

“You do?” You asked him. “You really know me?”

“I do.”

Tag List 🏷️

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor @tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison

@andreasworlsboring101 @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @flixndchill

@every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave​ ​ @fiantomartell

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife

@saysomethingspiderman @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah

@seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland

@yourtypicalhotmess @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey

[dilfl0v3rss]

poison

summary: ony was a known player. women have practically threw themselves at him in hopes that they’d be the one to make him “change”, but they never succeed. he finally met his match when he started messing with you…

cw: toxic!reader, toxic!ony, smoking, smut

word count: 3.6k

onyankopon wasn’t the type of man to chase. he wasn’t the man that would go above and beyond or make a woman feel like she could never be replaced. ony believed women were for the moment, having nothing to them that made him yearn for more. he’d be with a women one night and be moved on and ready for another women victim the next.

“man how you just gon block keisha like that? she bad as hell” connie said as he and ony rolled up on his couch. the darkskin male just laughed, shaking his head as he closed out her instagram profile and began looking through the hundreds of other women in his dms. “i already fucked, and it was like every other pussy i put my dick in. she pretty tho” connie shook his head in disappointment as he continued to crush up the weed between his fingers.

ony had no problem settling down, or so he said, but he just doesn’t think the women he’s been with were the right ones. leaving each of their houses without so much as a “goodbye” before deleting them from his phone and from his life completely. “don’t shake your head at me nigga. you be doing it too” ony laughed as he watched his friend place his hand on his heart. a shocked expression on his face as he played offended by the accusation. “it’s not the same and you know it. i at least talk to em from time t’time. you delete em and have em going crazy over you” all ony did was shrug his shoulders, continuing to roll up his blunt without trying to defend himself.

“lemme just take you out t’dinner then. m’tryna get t’know you ma” the brunette said as you sat in the passenger seat of his his hellcat. you were only here for some free weed, using your beauty to your advantage as you batted your lashes and bounced your tiddies while laughing at every terrible joke this man tried to crack. “can i think about it? ima very busy girl” your sultry voice made eren’s palms sweat as he handed you the baggy full of weed. you had this man whipped and he hasn’t even ever fucked you. “alright mama jus lemme know, and i put a lil extra in there f’you. witcho fine ass” he mumbled his last sentence as he watched your ass move in your shorts while getting out the car. you turned around slowly, kissing your hand before blowing it to him. your sparkly clear lipgloss making your lips pop as you gave eren a cute smile.

as soon as he drove off your act dropped. an annoyed look quickly fell on your face as you rolled your eyes. “corny ass nigga” you mumbled as you made your way into your house. these men where too easy when it came to you. always gravitating towards your pretty face and how you carried yourself like a “good girl”. you were nice to everybody, and everybody was nice to you. when you would find yourself messing with a guy, it was never for long. as soon as you got what you needed there was always an excuse on the tip of your tongue.

“m’going through a lot right now”

“i gotta focus on my classes more”

“i need time to heal from my past”

it was honestly the easiest thing in the world. and since you were so nice these niggas had no choice but to put respect on your name no matter what.

you quickly made your way to your room, turning on your led lights to purple as you got out your tray, papers, grinder, and your freshly “bought” bag of weed. “let’s get this shit started” you said as you turned on your tv.

as ony looked through his phone he noticed a freshly posted story from your account. he thought nothing of it as he clicked it. eyes widening at the sight of your other stories throughout the day. there was picture after picture of your beautiful body in a sundress. posing with a hand on your knee as you bent over slightly in the mirror. the next photo was you in a tube top and mini skirt. your big brown eyes looking away from the camera with a finger on your lip as if you were thinking. “jesus” ony mumbled. why hasn’t he ever seen you before?

connie leaned over and looked the the picture. “oh that’s y/n. she fine as hell ain’t she? been tryna get on that for months” his best friend said before taking a hit from his blunt. ony was intrigued. you were one of the sexiest girls he’s ever seen. “why ian ever seen her?” he mumbled as he continued to go through your stories. “that’s ‘cause she a good girl. she don’t party, don’t be fighting bitches over dick, nun of that. she be in her books and chilling” connie’s words brought excitement to ony’s body as he looked at your latest post.

you were in your bed with ed, edd, and eddy playing on your tv. your beautiful brown legs crossed, nails and feet looking freshly done as you held a fat blunt in between your fingers. ‘in my own little world’ the story captioned with poison by brent faiyaz playing softly in the background. ony’s fingers moved before he could think, swiping up on the post before typing you a quick message.

a ding from your phone brought your attention away from your cartoons. ‘must be eren’ you thought as you took a deep sigh before opening your phone. you were right, but there was another message after his.

onyahead replied to your story: let me join that lil world

you have heard plenty about onyankopon. the 90s fine dark skin that had a thing for breaking girls hearts. never seen with a girl, but constantly in the middle of drama when women are at each others throats over a man. he was no good. a liar, a sweet talker, and most of all… a player. but still you replied.

prettybrowny/n: i’d rather not have a mob of girls coming to burn my shit down.

you threw your phone to the side, giggling to yourself as you continued to watch your shows. less than ten minutes later, you heard another ding from your phone.

onyahead: don’t be like that ma. i’m just tryna smoke

what? did he think you were dumb or something? this man was clearly not “just tryna smoke” and that was obvious. it was nearly one in the morning. but still you replied.

prettybrowny/n: send your # and i’ll drop my lo

you weren’t like these other women he’s been with. you didn’t want the same things from him as they wanted. it was late and you were bored. eren gave you so much weed that it wouldn’t hurt to share, and at the end of the day onyankopon was nothing more to you than a man. a very fine, well known man, but still just a man. and at the end of the night you still expected to see him as such.

a smile graced ony’s face as he rose from connie’s couch. he quickly grabbed his hoodie before making his was towards the door. “where you goin? i just rolled two more” connie said. ony looked back at him, a sly smirk adorning his features as he twisted the doorknob. “finna go fuck on the good girl.” all that was heard from connie were loud gasps before ony left the house, putting your address in his gps as he approached his black srt challenger.

‘know you ride it right. i might jus die tonight’

‘but you know i’m still coming through baby’

you changed the lights in your room to red as you waited for him to arrive. rolling up two more fat blunts as you hummed along to your favorite song.

‘i know it's bad for me. and you know it tastes so sweet.’

‘i think i need your abuse baby’

ony was happy to see that you only lived ten minutes from connie. checking himself in his mirror before exiting his car and making his way to your front door. after he knocked on the door he saw a glimpse of your beautiful figure through the window. cami top on without a bra, booty shorts so tight he was almost certain he’d see some of your ass spilling out if you turned around, and your pretty gold anklet shining as you walked towards the door.

you looked up at him with your big brown eyes. your clear glasses reflecting your porch light as you spoke. “hi” you said quietly before moving to the side so he could enter. you closed the door behind him before leading him deeper into the house. “where we smoking at” ony’s deep voice made your stomach flip as you swayed your hips as you walked, already knowing he was looking at your ass. “my room”

‘girl you do damage to me. know i love it ,yea i love you’

‘ain’t nothing better for me now’

“welcome to my lil world” your pretty voice caressed his ears as he walked towards your bed. he thanked the lord he wore sweats as he laid down on his back. waistband hanging low on his hips, happy trial showing as he put his hands behind his head. his hood was up, covering his grey durag. your eyes traveled up and down his body, repeatedly stopping at his waistband. this man wasn’t wearing boxers. “you gon stare or you gon smoke me out?” his voice snapped you out of your thoughts, making you slowly sit in the middle of the bed before picking up the blunt.

‘girl you do damage to me. know i love it, yea i love you’

‘ain’t nothing better for me now’

ony moved closer to you laying down almost right next to you as he watched you put the blunt to your lips. “i rolled you your own ‘cause i got lipgloss on” you gave him a confused look at the chuckle he gave you. “what?” ony gave you a small smirk, your stomach doing flips as you noticed the gold grills adorning his pearly white teeth. “ion care bout that. we can share. make it last longer” you gave him a small nod before trying to start up your lighter. ‘why you gotta break now’ you thought as you repeatedly flicked the lighter just for nothing to come out. another chuckle rumbled from his chest before ony dug in his pocket for his lighter. his big tattooed hand made its way towards your face before he held the fire on the end of your blunt. “gotchu ma” he mumbled as he watched the smoke begin to rise into the air.

you took the first hit, letting the calming drug run all through your system. ony watched tv as you smoked, paying you no mind as he waited for you to rotate to him. you did the same after passing him the blunt, shifting your body towards the screen as you sat on your knees. ony took this as the time to ogle you. like he thought, your ass was spilling from the bottom of your shorts. what he wasn’t expecting was the pretty dermal piercings on your lower back. the diamonds twinkling at him as if they were begging for him to rub his thumbs along them. “how long you had these?” he mumbled to you, making you turned around before following his gaze. “oh. ehhh about a year now” you said before turning back towards the tv.

ony leaned up, sitting next to you as he continued to shamelessly stare at the front of your body now. perky brown breasts, pudgy little stomach, thick thighs, and a pretty face. you were his poison.

‘angel of the night. down between your thighs’

‘i’m still here. ain’t no excuse baby’

you felt him stare at you, but kept facing forward. fighting back the urge to shy away from his gaze as you fidgeted with your fingers. this man was something else. it was like he wanted you to eat you, but you wanted to stay strong. ‘i’m not like them. i’m smarter’ you thought to yourself as you took a deep breath and turned towards him. “you chieffing it nigga” you giggled as you went to grab the blunt from him, but ony moved his hand away. putting it in his other hand which on the other side of his body. “gotta come get it if you want it mama. ion do hand outs”

his voice brought a certain tingle in your nether regions, making you have to take a deep breath before doing what you where about to do. you reached across his body, purposely putting an arch in your back as you slowly looked him in the eye while plucking the blunt from his fingers. the two of you stayed still for a while, looking into each others eyes.

‘i see you in my sleep. i'm scarred beyond belief’

‘ain’t nothing you can't make me do, baby’

ony was the first to move, sliding his free hand down your back before letting it slowly smooth down your ass. the dark skin and ink of his hands contrasting with the light pink fabric of your shorts. “so pretty” he mumbled, loving the way you shied away from his gaze at the compliment. he was breaking you down, but you were doing the same to him. heart beating rapidly in his chest as ony looked at your beautiful breasts peaking at him from your top.

‘girl you do damage to me. know i love it, yea i love you’

‘ain’t nothing better for me now’

you followed his eyes down to your top before slowly moving off of him. blunt now in your mouth as you inhaled deeply. ony watched you, brown eyes never moving from your face as he let you blow smoke on his. you admired him some more, feeling a your breath hitch as you noticed the prominent bulge in his sweatpants. ony saw you staring, smirking as he thought it’d be nice to tease you. “you want it baby?” you mindlessly nod your head, the effects of the weed starting to get to you as you quickly covered your mouth and began shaking your head “n-no”.

“s’okay mama. i wanna give it t’you. can i?” this man is good. you know he has no intention of keeping in contact with you after tonight, keeping his voice soft to bend you to his will as he used faux kindness. if you were any other girl you would’ve fell for it immediately. but if you weren’t then why were you letting him move your stuff from your mattress to your bedside table? and why were you letting him lay you down on your back? big inked hands making quick work of removing your shorts, before ony smiled down at your pretty pussy.

‘girl you do damage to me. know i love it, yea i love you’

‘ain’t nothing better for me now…than your poison baby’

ony quickly removed his hoodie and shirt before setting between your thighs. his brown eyes looked up at your for the “okay” to begin and you let him in a heartbeat. you don’t think you’ve ever gotten better head in your life. ony was skilled with his tongue, running it all over your pussy sloppily before he sucked softly on your clit. he repeated the motion over and over again, getting rougher and rougher with you until your back was arching from the bed. your hand flew to his head, holding him there as you began to grind on his face. ony seen no problem with this, wanting you to get as much pleasure as you wanted right now. “m’gonna cum ony. fuck m’gonna make a mess”

ony looked up at you before snaking his hands up your body. he lifted your shirt to free your pretty breasts before squeezing them in each of his hands. “gon head. make a mess on daddy face” your body didn’t stand a chance against him. a loud whine was released from your lips as you came all over ony’s face, wetting his mustache and anchor beard. “good girl” his praises went straight to your core, making your arousal build up again as he slowly pulled down his sweats until his dick sprang free. now you could understand why women would fight and throw themselves at this man. he was very well equipped. a thick vein running up the underside of his dick as his bounced up and down before you. he was not only long, but incredibly thick, making you wince as he began to line himself up with your entrance.

‘girl you know i play my role when i’m inside that’

ony noticed the worry in your eyes. “relax babygirl. i would never hurt you” he say lowly, letting you grip his hand as tight as you needed while he sunk deep into your walls. he gave you time to adjust, keeping your fingers intertwined as he began slowly stroking you. “how it feel ma? does it hurt” his soft voice made you want to melt into the sheets, eyes already rolling back as you felt his dick kiss all the right places inside of you. ony noticed your lack of reply, chuckling as he watched how fucked out you already were. he continued to talk you through your daze, only stopping to give you light kisses on your neck.

“feel so good mama”

“takin me like a good girl”

“you like bein my good girl don’t you?”

the praised just kept on coming and before you knew it, his large inked hand was wrapped around your throat while ony began to pound you into the mattress. the sudden change in pace made your legs shake at he began to hit you so deep you were seeing stars. “how it feel baby?”

‘with my hands around your throat. i know you like that’

ony felt your release coming, the tightness of you walls making him have to close his eyes as he continued fucking into you. “s-so good daddy. feels so g-good” your moans were music to his ears as he started quickly rubbing his thumb all over your clit. “then make a mess f’me. show me how good daddy make you feel” you listened to him instantly, your release quickly rushing out of you and all over the both of your stomachs as ony fucked you through your orgasm. “good girl mama”

‘girl i’ll do anything’

before you knew it, ony had flipped you onto your stomach. strong hands lifting you up by your waist before he sunk back into you again. “it’s my turn now ‘kay?” your eyes widened in shock at his words.

‘you mean to tell me that whole time everything was just for me? this man is a problem.’

you thought as you felt ony begin to roughly fuck you into the mattress. both inked hands, pushing your back down as he began to angle his hips downward to keep hitting your favorite spots.

“you feel it mama? feel daddy in your tummy?” ony groaned as he felt you clench at his words. he left kissing along the back of your neck before he pulled you up slightly by your hair. “say my name baby” spit dripped from your mouth to the sheets as you listened to the filthy words that came out of ony’s mouth. “say who fucking this pussy so good”. the way he was fucking you, you were glad to say his name. replying to the best of your ability as you felt him kiss your g spot. “onyyyy. o-on-yyyy fucking this pussy so g-good. feel so good daddy” you screamed as you felt ony’s dick kiss your cervix. “that’s right mama. now cum with me. wet my dick while daddy fills this pussy up.”

‘to hear you scream my name. i love your game’

‘i do…..i do’

the two of you came together. your release tricking down your thighs as ony gave you three more strokes before stilling inside you, filling you with his hot cum. he let you catch your breath before slowly pulling out and laying on his back. his strong arms lifting you onto his chest before he said something he never imagined he’d say in his life. “do you want me to spend the night with you?”

‘girl you do damage to me’

when ony woke up he was met with an empty bed, the sound of the shower running signaling to him it was time to go. he made quick work of getting dressed and before he knew it he was out the door, walking tiredly to his car. as he pulled off he contemplating blocking you. your pussy was one he’s never had before. your moans were like music, and your beauty was unmatched. but still he felt like he needed to block you. so with that being said he pulled out his phone, searching your account on instagram so he can do what needed to be done, but his jaw dropped at the realization that your account was nowhere to be found. while he was asleep you room you made the executive decision of blocking him before he even got the chance to block you. ony smiled at your cleverness, but you were “not clever enough mama”

‘but i love it babe’

as you got out of the shower, you heard the sound of your phone dinging. ‘must be eren’ you thought before picking up the device. it wasn’t eren this time…your jaw dropped as you looked at the name on your phone.

snapchat: onyaheaddd sent a chat!

ony💯: i’ll be back over tonight. i forgot my hoodie.

‘oh you’re poisonous baby’

[a-twistedheartslonging]

sometimes people will pay mc to clean/cook for them. all are using it as an excuse to get a scent on you

epel appreciates home cooked meals, don't bother paying for ingredients, just use ones from his farm. he'll keep you company prefect

jade and floyd (who has taken to calling you his Cleaner Shrimpy) jade thinks it's cute to see you cook, he would love to see you swap recipes, learn your taste, do add extra mushrooms to his food please. floyd enjoys following you around while you clean and trying to mess things up so you can't leave. he always make jokes about lockin' you in. what do you meeeeaaannnn you have other clients? maybe he should bite you so they learn to stay away :) maybe he should lock you up right here :)

azul? come work for the mostro lounge! clean up the mess after work, only work for him, he'll pay you double just don't go spend time with others. why don't you start with his office and finish up after people leave. is what he would say if he lost all words the moment he gets to close to you.

jack is just helping a friend >:( don't get the wrong idea just hang out in the room when you're done, he does enjoy your cooking, he knows you'll make a great little mate and a great parent too, he does always compliment the chef.

riddle and vil will critique you but ultimately try to get you to stay

malleus follows you around while you clean all of diasomnia. he pays extra just to not clean savanna claw

sebek yells how you should be grateful to work for malleus, silver ears every meal with a smile and always compliments you and how he can tell you worked hard on it, lilia tries to have a cook off with you. you didn't have the heart to roast his cooking.

leona is used to the women hunting, cooking is almost like that, he'll pay you double is you drop the dragon, he'll say come over to clean but you're just a body pillow lol

ruggie uses those big old puppy dog eyes to get to give him a home cooked meal for free ninety nine.

by the end of it rook just pays to watch you go about your business in his space. it's creepy. but he always does write a 20 page thank you letter complimenting your skills, unless he decides to keep you in his nest ofc

trey wants to swap recipes remarking something about "well fed children", deuce is enamored with your cooking and raves about you to his mom, ace pretends not to care but will just throw his laundry at you for you to do, he tried to pay you in a hoodie of his but you refused to accept. carter says he'll make a post promoting your innovative idea but is trying to keep it to himself, he doesn't want some other stinky guy on you >:(

idia is to shy to ask but ortho has needed this for a while

jamil is thrilled when you too can cook together and try each others food, and you give him a break from cleaning after parties? kalon thinks it's a sign you love him that you offered (and his parents are thrilled to have a human work for him) and jamil gets to hang out with the cute little human and take a break? god send

eventually whoever gets the most from you is OBVIOUSLY a status symbol and will be shown off.

anyway sorry if you didn't like this

Oh, I love this, I talked before about Yuu getting a little cleaning and cooking side business going since a lot of guys suck at taking care of themselves, especially the well-off ones that prob had a maid take care of everything.

Jamil and Ruggie both need breaks/some help. Leona and Kalim are working these poor boys to the bone. Ruggie is def hounding you for leftovers.

I can imagine Idia is kind of embarrassed and might clean up or hide a few things before you come over, doesn't want you thinking he's gross. I'm picturing him in his web looking flustered as he pretends to act all focused on the game his playing on his tablet but he's actually just watching you clean and fueling his house waifu/husbando fantasies.

I would def run a hoodie tax for doing laundry.

Rook is another that would hide the things he doesn't want you to see before you come over to clean, not that there's much for you to do. He's very neat and organized but always looks for an excuse to get you into his nest. Probably offers you extra to scent a few things for him.

Cleaning for Leona...you know those cats that lie on the bed when you're trying to change the sheets and nap on the fresh from the drier clothes? He diffidently does that. He totally keeps trying to get you to only work for him and lays on you so you can't leave, threatening to charge him overtime doesn't deter him in the slightest. He also sticks close when you're cooking, the man loves food and wants to be fed by hand by you.

Oh man, Mal, Silver, and Sebek are so grateful when you take care of the cooking. Seb refuses to admit it though. You really need to keep an eye on everything, or else Lilia will sneak something into what you're making.

With the trouble that Ace and Deuce cause you're probably called to their dorm often to clean up some mess they made.

You would definitely get a lot of extra work from the octo trio, if it's not their rooms you're taking care of then it's help with the lounge. The eels are big-time fans of your cooking, but neither will leave you alone when you are trying to clean, and it makes the jobs take a lot longer. Not too bad if you're charging by the hour at least.

[cindol]

KISSING UNDER THE MISTLETOE !🎄🌟

jjk men x black fem reader

tw — characters included: suguru getou,satoru gojo,nanami kento, toji Fushiguro, ino takuma, sukuna ryomen, y/n is a cutie pie here,fluff/crack,suggestive(on sukuna’s part) jujutsu and curse au, in all scenarios they’re at a party,

synopsis— in which you share a kiss with your partner

cintember event

SUGURU GETOU

Y/n always got excited at holiday traditions, now having her boyfriend she wanted experience every holiday moment with him and that included the mistletoe kiss. Getou was a calm guy, not very out going so she tip toed around the idea as they both stared at the mistletoe on the entrance leading to shoko’s kitchen.”mistletoe.. so romantic when two people kiss under it don’t you think?” Getou hummed, he could see what she was plotting but wanted her to say it.”so cheesy though don’t you think?” He chuckled hearing her gasp at that and clench her chest.”pfft! It’s a romantic tradition between two lovers. You should know..”

He chuckled.”and why’s that?” He could tell how agitated she was getting with him.”because you’re my boyfriend and boyfriends should kiss their girls under like trees and things like this!” That’s all he wanted to hear, to y/n’s surprise he walked under the mistletoe and pulled her towards him, giving her a soft kiss on the lips making her gasp once more and be quiet for a bit.”all you had to do was say the word baby.”

SATORU GOJO

Gojo loved feeding into anything y/n wanted, he was like a silly robot who did whatever his woman pleased, that included mistletoe. As he entered getou’s household with y/n he heard her squeal at the mistletoe at the mistletoe on the now closed front door. Getou came over chuckling.”thought I’d add it to make it extra romantic for you love birds.” Shoko came over wiggling her eyebrows with a camera.”got a camera to picture the very moment y/n.” She teased knowing how excited she got at the thought of capturing a perfect kiss with Gojo.

Gojo hissed a bit at the sudden strong grip y/n got on his arm.”Ah ah! Easy with the grip.. don’t know how women can get this sudden superhuman strength!” Y/n whined gripping harder.”gojo! Mistletoe! Let’s kiss now please?” She batted her lashes a bit but gojo was just gonna agree anyways.” He chuckled taking his glasses off.”eh why not?”

The kiss was a bit sloppier than y/n liked, she shouldn’t have expected it to be perfect with the boyfriend she had. His hands were gripping her waist with her arms wrapped around his neck, his lips were practically devouring hers and any gloss she had on. They were making a big scene with the noises while shoko took a picture. Once she was done y/n whined as they pulled away from each other.”you’re so extra y’know? Can’t even take a nice lil pic without you eating my lips alive..”

He shrugged his shoulders.”your fault really princess, shouldn’t have had that gloss on and looked so good. Matter a fact, let’s take another if this one sucks yes?” He knew they would doing this the whole night till y/n was satisfied.

NANAMI KENTO

He enjoys the mistletoe with his wife. In the past kissing her under the mistletoe use to be so awkward for a teen virgin like him now he was more adjusted and perfect with the kissing with his love. When everyone around is just partying having a laugh he just stares at y/n while she drinks some champagne and stares at the mistletoe then at him, he stares back smiling when she nudges her head at the mistletoe.

“how bout it? Let’s kiss under the mistletoe like old times baby” he cringed when he thought back on their first kiss under the mistletoe then nodded walking underneath the mistletoe with her. The kiss they share is how you would imagine it, full of love and soft with nanami’s hands on her waist and her hands on his shoulders as they shared a soft kiss with their lips connecting, nothing too sloppy and over the top for the both of them.

The cute moment is broken up when they wanted to share another a drunk Gojo came between them putting his hands on their shoulders making nanami groan in annoyance and y/n just chuckle.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

he loves mistletoe kisses with his wife, it’s his excuse to be dramatic and sloppy with her in front of anyone with seeing eyes. Seeing the mistletoe he playfully slapped her ass making her gasp then look at him pouting, he just gives a wide grin.”how’s ‘bout we go to that lil green shit and kiss?” Y/n rolled her eyes in response.”if you mean the mistletoe then yeah, let’s smooch.”

Toji had a feral look as he dragged her to it. The kiss they both had was sloppy on Toji’s part. What y/n thought would be a sweet kiss turned out to be sloppy with toji’s tongue fighting hers making her y/n. They were broken up when Gojo split them up.”alright break it up love birds, seeing so much tonguing down makes me sickkk!” He made a fake gagging sound for effect.

INO TAKUMA

Ino was counting the days for Christmas just for this. He wasn’t even a big lover of Christmas he just wanted an excuse to kiss his girlfriend. When they both entered Gojo’s Christmas party he spotted the mistletoe immediately and a bright grin was on his face. Being the shy boy he was though, he tip toed the whole night around the topic of mistletoe with her. It got tiring tiring to some and it started to come to a halt.

Every time he talked about kisses y/n giggled.”baby? Are you trying to propose something to me? Wanna go in the back or…” she made a low chuckle staring at him with a joking seductive look making him groan quietly and scratch his head chuckling. Toji being the man he was got tired of the young couple dipping around the topic of the decoration. Sipping on his beer casually he just patted ino on his back.”be a damn man and say you wanna kiss your lady under the mistletoe, pussy.” He said it loud enough to make y/n gasp out loud once he walked away.

Ino turned his head in embarrassment groaning which made y/n laugh and grab him by the chin.”if you wanted a kiss under the mistletoe you could’ve just said so baby, cmon.” Before he could respond she was dragging him to the mistletoe with him facing her face to face.”now what’s your plan? Nothing stopping you from kissing me.”

Ino couldn’t help but do another groan and wipe his mouth looking at his girlfriend. She looked cute looking up at him with those eyes in that red fluffy crop top and skirt even mittens to match her outfit”He made a small “fuck it..” then gripped her waist pulling her in for a soft kiss, it went on longer than he expected as she wrapped her arms around his neck. They pulled apart once ino saw a flash of a camera from shoko. He whined.”cmon man..” while nanami just shook his head passing by the foolishness.

SUKUNA RYOMEN

sukuna doesn’t understand romantic gestures, not the normal romantic gestures at least. His type of love language was always giving welted flowers or a rabbits foot but still, he tried somehow for y/n. When she happily pointed out the mistletoe at gojo’s house party he gave a confused look.”just a piece of green mess, why should this matter to me?” She gave him back that pout she always did tugging on his arm.” ‘kuna it’s mistletoeee! It’s a romantic kiss two share between one another..” she said in a pointed tone trying to convince him.

He hummed a little.”kiss?” He always enjoyed kisses with her, since his were different than the average man’s he would say. Y/n could see the clocks turning in his head as he said the word. She sighed already knowing what to expect.”just come here you big ofe..” she walked pulling him with her under the mistletoe. A wide mischievous grin was on sukuna’s face as he stared at his girlfriend.”kiss huh?” She rolled her eyes playfully.”yes sukuna, kiss. We’re under the mistletoe.”

He gripped her jaw pulling her face towards his. With his lips locking with her he bit her lip making her whine. If his lips weren’t locked with her now he would grin at the little sound she made. Of course being sukuna he cupped his hands on her ass lifting her up and making her wrap her hands around his neck and legs around his waist. Sukuna could hear a chuckle from toji taking a click of them and groaned.

[smoooothoperator]

What Was I Made For?

02: Lose Control

Charles Leclerc x driver!OC (Dafne Morelli)

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers

Warnings: alcohol, Charles being an asshole

a/n: Hello hello!! Second chapter! And things will get even more and more exciting!

Masterlist

previous part | next part

If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

I never liked the taste of the champagne. It was bitter and the bubbles of it always annoyed me whenever I tried to take a sip of it, making me hold the same glass the entire night whenever I went to a gala.

But now? Now the champagne tastes like glory, like a drink made by the gods to reward their champions.

And that's what I am. A champion.

The first step of the podium gave me the best view I could ever ask for: a gigantic Ferrari flag, tons and tons of people dressed in red with flags in their hands, and a red fog that ascended up to the sky, painting the clouds by the crimson red.

The anthem, played for the second time today, sounded louder than before, with all the Tifosi screaming it with the top of their lungs, watching how I stood in the highest step while I looked up at the sky with a proud smile on my lips.

He's looking at me from above, he was the one that helped me. 

Jules.

I looked down at the crowd. My family was there. My sisters hugged each other, jumping excitedly like when we were kids while they sang the anthem. My parents stood next to them, and next to my family was Charles' family, looking at me too with a proud smile.

This is my day and nothing will ruin it. Nothing and no one.

I hugged the trophy close to me, walking out of the podium and not letting it go until I got inside of my room. My safe place.

I knew I made mistakes. I knew I argued with my engineer more than I should, that I held that position for the entire race until I found a chance of taking the lead. I defended and fought like a lioness, and that's why I deserve the trophy and the glory.

My glory.

I sat on the bed, scanning with my eyes that heavy piece of metal with a bug number 1 on it and the Ferrari champagne bottle, already planning where I should put them in my apartment. Somewhere everyone that walked in could see it, showing them that I'm a race winner too, that women can win in a category dominated by men.

I felt the anxious buzzing in my mind of what I will be doing for the next few days: interviews, social events, meetings with sponsors.

But it's worth it, because for once, I want to go to those things. For once I want to choose a dress that I'll have to wear for hours while I stand surrounded by high society people that smell like expensive perfume and eat caviar as an entree to their meals. I want to read little cards to remember possible questions to the interviews for the TV. I want to go to show the world what I did.

Because I deserve it. I deserve it. I deserve it. I deserve it.

“Here is our winner!”

I looked at the door, watching my parents and sisters walking inside of the small room and somehow fitting in it.

My dad, a man with thick beard and brown hair, was wearing a cap of my collection, and my mom, a woman that was the older version of Soleil, with dark blonde hair and bright eyes, was wearing a red summer dress. Every race they assist, they wear red, all my family dress with my colors.

“How are you feeling?” my mom asked, sitting next to be in the bed and wrapping her arm around my shoulders, kissing my temple.

“Mom, I'm soaked in sweat and champagne!” I gasped when I felt her body pressed against mine. 

“The smell of a champion” she chuckled.

I laugh softly, watching how my dad grabbed the trophy and held it, taking pictures of himself with it and then with my sisters.

“Well… We will have dinner” my dad said, looking at me. “With the the Leclerc’s”

“What? Why with them!” I frowned.

“Because they are our friends” he frowned. “When will be the time that you two stop acting like kids? It has been twenty years already! Are you tired of this rivalry?”

“Dad…”

“No, Dafne” he said, pointing at me with his finger. “Stop this now. Can't you see that it's not funny anymore? Act like adults, now you two are teammates, and I heard that the team already gave you a warning”

I clenched my jaw, looking at him and then at my sisters. When the team gave us that warming the only ones that knew were them, and I asked them to not tell anything to my parents.

“I'm sorry but he's right” Soleil sighed, looking away. “It's only you two… We get along with Charles, you are the only one that can't stand him. Why?”

I took a deep breath and looked away, avoiding their gazes.

They wouldn't understand. Why would they? They don't know what happened. And they won't know. 

“Whatever, I have to go to the press” I said, grabbing the Ferrari cap. “It will take me a while, I'll see you at the restaurant. The same one as always?”

“Yeah” my dad sighed, watching me get up and walk out of the room, leaving them there.

No one will ruin my day.

I don't know how I ended up in this situation.

An hour ago I was leaving the track alone, my sisters went with my parents to the hotel to get ready while I was finishing the last interviews and team pictures. The music was high in the speakers and I just sang along to it. My backpack was on the backseats with the box of my trophy and the empty champagne bottle. When I arrived at the hotel, the fans saw me and they immediately walked towards me, chanting my name and wanting to take pictures with me.

At that moment, I was on cloud nine, loving the attention they gave me and not remembering that I was going to have dinner with him.

As I walked inside my room and saw the outfit my sister chose for me to take to the dinner, I tried to not think about it.

The black sparkly midi dress is one of my favorites, that hugs my body in the right places and is perfect to wear to formal events and even to parties. Just what I needed.

After I did my makeup and hair I grabbed my bag, taking a deep breath before opening the door of the room and walking out. The heels were uncomfortable, but at least I looked good in them. While walking downstairs to go to the restaurant of the hotel, I started to wonder if that girl Charles brought was going to be there too.

And to my surprise, she was. Dressing like she was in a high society gala. Again, it's like she doesn't know where she is.

“Did you explain to her that my nickname is only a nickname?” I said looking at Charles, watching how he rolled his eyes.

“She wears whatever she wants to wear” he groaned. “She looks fine”

“Fine?! You told me I look gorgeous!” she gasped, talking with that high pitched voice that made everyone close their eyes. 

I saw Charles sigh, grabbing a glass of wine and drinking half of it. Well, the dinner starts strong.

“Well, Melanie” I smiled looking at her. “What's your job? I'm curious”

“Oh, I'm trying to be an influencer” she said, looking at me with a smile. “It's starting to work, somehow”

Sure, because you are hinting you fuck Charles Leclerc.

“Mhm, which brands contacted you? Maybe we will meet in one?” I smiled. 

“Oh none…. Yet” she smiled weakly.

I felt Charles' eyes on me, his angry gaze piercing a hole in my head and how he drank the entire glass of wine. 

When the waitress walked us to the private room where the dinner will take place, our families did everything to sit us two next to the other. The long dining table separated us from our parents, yet it felt like Charles and I were worlds apart. The polite hum of conversation was just a background noise to the storm between us. 

My father stood up with his glass of whine, looking at me with a big proud smile. I sighed, grabbing my own glass and raising it like the rest of the table.

“To Dafne” he smiled, pointing his glass towards me. “The first woman to win a Formula 1 race”

I smiled and looked at everyone at the table. Arthur and Lorenzo were sitting next to each other, sitting in front of my sisters. My father was next to my mom and Pascale, and Melanie was just sitting next to Charles.

"To success," Charles said, his voice had a big amount of irony. "And to the people who think they can buy it"

"Success is earned, Charles. Some of us know the value of hard work" I shot him a look, trying to keep my composure.

"Oh, I know all about hard work," he scoffed, taking another sip of his refilled glass of wine "And the people who take advantage of it."

“Oh, really? You do?” I laughed, looking at him and then at Melanie. “I think you don’t, but okay. Good for you if you think you can recognize who works hard for something and who just buys their way to it. Clearly you should look around more often”

Our parents exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the undercurrent of hostility. Melanie, blissfully unaware, just sipped her wine and looked around the room with wide eyes.

"What exactly is your problem, Charles? Are you upset that I won today?" I leaned in closer to Charles, keeping my voice low so only he could hear. 

"I'm not upset that you won, Dafne. I'm upset that you think you can walk all over everyone to get what you want. That win should have been mine, I had more pace and better tyres” he groaned lowly.

“You did? Then why didn't you overtake me, hm? You clearly know that I would do whatever Ferrari orders me to do” I smirked. “And I didn’t hear a team order of letting you pass me”

Our families were now fully aware that something was off. My mother gave me a warning look, and Charles' older brother cleared his throat, trying to steer the conversation back to safer waters.

"So, Dafne," he began, forcing a smile. "How did you feel about your performance today? It was quite impressive."

 "Thank you. It was a challenging race, but I'm happy with how it turned out” I said, taking a deep breath, ignoring the man next to me. Charles scoffed quietly, and I shot him another glare. "Is there something you'd like to add, Charles?"

He looked at me, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and something else I couldn't quite place. "Just that it must be nice to always get what you want."

I opened my mouth to respond, but Erica cut in, sensing that things were about to escalate. "The food looks amazing, doesn't it? Let's enjoy dinner."

The bass vibrated through the club, reverberating against the walls as red neon lights danced over the sweaty bodies of the dance floor. The music was loud, making everyone scream if they wanted to talk to someone or even take a step closer and talk to someone directly in their ears.

With the adrenaline of the race and the tension that took place during the dinner, I made my way towards the drinks bar, ordering whatever that doesn’t taste like alcohol but definitely has alcohol in it. With the cold glass already in my hand, I walked back to the table where my sisters were sitting with some girlfriends of the drivers.

“Have you seen Melanie?” I chuckled, feeling tipsy and looking around.

“Who?” Lily, Alex’s girlfriend, frowned. 

“Charles’ girl! She’s a wanna be influencer” I laughed, scanning with my eyes the crowd, trying to find the monegasque driver.

I heard my sisters sigh and sip their drinks, trying to ignore me. Alex and Carmen looked at me, frowning and following my gaze.

“Are you jealous? You sound jealous” Carmen pointed. “When will you stop talking about Charles? You say you hate him but you can’t stop looking or even talking about him”

“Me? Jealous?” I laughed. “Don’t get me wrong, that guy can take whoever he wants to his bed”

“Then let him live” Erica sighed. “Yes, we saw that Melanie is a gold digger. Yes, we saw she’s making everything to get his attention and fame. But that’s his problem”

“Erica is right” Soleil sighed. “You even sound worried about him, always talking about how bad the girls he choose are”

“I'm not!” I gasped.

“Mhm, whatever” the four of them sighed.

I groan and look away. They don't understand. They don't understand! 

I just stayed quiet, hearing them talk and focusing on a random spot at the other side of the club, drinking and drinking.

This is my day, no one will ruin it.

But then that idiot decided to grab a microphone and open his mind.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please listen!” he said, standing on top of a table. “I would love to say some words”

I frowned, getting up and already feeling tipsy, having to hold myself against the railing of the balcony where the VIP room was. He was holding a glass of some liquor, raising it up with a smile on his lips.

“I want to congratulate my fantastic teammate, Dafne! Daf, where are you?” he exclaimed looking around. “I guess she's hiding as always…”

“Fucking idiot” I mumbled, watching him look around.

“Well, maybe she's not here” he chuckled. “I'm sure she's with someone, maybe a random dude so she can keep going higher on her career. After all, that's how she got in Ferrari, hm?”

I looked at him and then I started to hear people talking, their eyes all moving around to search me.

“Jules always said that everyone has a chance in Formula 1” he giggled. “But her? Oh, no. She got in this sport sucking the dick of every person she found that could get her a seat. Mick! Mick, where are you? Is she good at that? Is she good at fucking you? I bet you two did it, she always ended higher than you… Head for some points? How pathetic, Daf”

My cheeks were red. My ears were red. Everyone who found me was looking at me. I heard steps behind me and a pair of hands trying to hold my arms, but I moved faster and ran downstairs towards him.

“Oh there she is! Who was the unfortunate one?” he giggled.

“Get down” I groaned, clenching my jaw. Somehow I am sober now. “Now!”

“Why?”

“Get down!” I screamed.

“No!” he laughed, drinking from his glass. “Aren't you satisfied? You had your win, you are in your dream team. I think you should take another step. Maybe… I don't know, suck Max's dick so he can give you a championship?”

“Charles Leclerc you are a dead man!” I screamed, running towards him and grabbing his leg, trying to get him down from the table.

This was supposed to be my day. My party, without someone like him ruining it.

Two pair of arms grabbed mine, stopping me and pulling me away from the club before I could do something worse. Soleil and Arthur were holding my arms, pulling me away from the crowd while Lorenzo and Erica tried to put down Charkes from the table.

“Let me go! I'm going to kill him!” I screamed.

“You are going to your room and stay there until you sober up” my sister said, frowning, sinking her nails on my arm to make me stop.

“That asshole is saying shit about me! And I'm the one that will be punished? Bullshit!” I exclaimed, but clearly they are not listening to me. “He should be the one that has to be punished! And you should wash his mouth with soap! And drown him on the toilet!”

“Enough!” Soleil exclaimed. “I'm so done with this. We all are done with you two. You are acting like kids”

“Why are you two like this?” Arthur frowned. “Why can't you two see that only you are the ones that hate each other? It's making the team and our families have problems”

“I did nothing wrong” I mumble, letting them take me to the elevator. “I didn't suck anyone's dick. I did every right”

“And we're not saying you did something like that. But you two always find a way to start a fight” Soleil sighed. 

“I did nothing wrong” I whispered.

Soleil sighed and grabbed my keycard, opening the door of my hotel room. Arthur and her helped me get in the room and then she took off my clothes to get me in bed.

“Don't do anything you'll regret tomorrow” Arthur and Soleil said before getting out of my room. 

I groaned, showing them my middle fingers before they walked out and closed the door. 

The silence in my room was too loud and the drum on my chest was beating too hard. I tried to walk side to side in the room,trying to calm down. The drops of the faucet in the bathroom are too loud, just like the air conditioner.

But then two hard knocks on the door broke the noisy silence in the room. 

I groaned, walking towards it to open it. 

And I shouldn't have done that.

“Oh fuck off” I groaned closing the door again, but he was faster and put his foot to stop me. “Charles-”

Before I could stop him, or even kick his balls, his lips were on mine, pushing me inside the room.

taglist

@racinggirl @elisysd @alltoomaples @ssprayberrythings @rach3164 @yvonne-dump @deliciousfestsalad @janeh22 @hc-dutch @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @ssararuffoni @itsjustkhaos @scaramou @tapedeck-hearts @apollosfavkiddo @sltwins @glitterquadricorn @ladystardust05

[highvern]

Ateez in Different NSFW Careers

Pairing: ot8

Genre: smut, 21+

Warnings: lots of sex, masturbating, porn, domination/submission, fetishes, lmk if i missed anything egregious

Note: this is an idea for a miniseries but idk and thought id put it out there to see if people are interested (dont bring up the ateez mixtape series, im working on it!) thank you @wingsofimagery @yessa-vie for listening to this brain rot

read more here

Hongjoong:

onlyfans creator, solos of him masturbating or nudes. weirdly artistic? like camera angles on point, edited to perfection, color graded. rarely, if ever, collabs with others. occasionally posts erotic photography of one unidentifiable woman. his subscribers aren't sure what to make of it but pictures of them together are some of his best work. daylights as a photographer and has some of his work in small galleries across the city.

Seunghwa:

amatuer porn star, makes homemade couple porn or something with a close female friend. domestic/bf vibes in every video. v soft with each other even when they're having rough sex. people assume they're actually dating bc of the insane chemistry even though they never show their faces. its his fun dirty little secret no one in the office knows.

Yunho:

boyfriend for hire. specializes in "turn your brain off for the night, i'll handle it." rent him to be your date to an event or just for a night on the town. doesn't always sleep with his client (his discretion) but usually cuddles and will spend the night. just trying to pay off his student loans since being an analyst pays shit. big yunho bc he has a big... u kno? and loves hearing the women he sleeps with rave about it. has had several repeat customers and older women that recommend him to their friends.

Yeosang:

audio erotica. just aside hobby for him. tbh 9/10 times forgets to record or that he even has the account. started bc a girl he was seeing freshman year of college told him she wanted a video with the sound on and he didn't know what that meant but she liked his voice enough to let the completely black screen slide. posts sporadically but always makes waves when he does. people have offered him money for custom audios and he always turns them down.

San:

fetish model. shibari, leather, latex. you name it, he's most likely modeled it. has portrait of himself (unrecongnizable, facing away just his back criss crossed with ropes, hands bound at the base of his spine) hanging in his apartment. his friends think its weird since they know he's the one in the picture but most of the girls he brings home just think he's into some freaky stuff. started bc he would nude model for the art classes at his college when he needed fast money for weed. people assume he likes really kinky sex bc of his job but he prefers vanilla sex most of the time bc his job is so kink heavy. works as a fitness instructor as his 9-5, and had a few people recognize him but most are cool and leave him alone

Mingi:

nsfw twitter creator. videos, pictures, sliding into dms. mingi does it all and enjoys the comments of people thirsting over him even if he's one dick among thousands. for his day job he works in a sex store and flirts with the exotic dancers who come in to buy their costumes (turned down every single time, there's even a pool for how quickly he'll strike out). the one girl that flirted back still lives in his brain rent free bc all she did was smile and he folded like origami. now when she comes in mingi has to remind himself not to drool.

Wooyoung:

cam boy brat, sugars on the side. likes being degraded by his audience when he's bad. lover of milfs, and has a sugar mommy he sees once a month. loves being wined and dined by her and then loved on at her fancy apartment uptown. started doing both in college to pay rent, now works at a dance studio and keeps it up bc the extra cash is nice. enamored with taking pictures during sex. has a collection of polaroids with his current FWB that he cherishes more than anything (always carries one in his phone case). toyed with the idea of having her come on his streams but he doesn't want to share. he should probably look into that more.

Jongho:

dungeon dom (IDK), the kind thats a look don't touch dom. if you need a session to work through your stress, go to him. sexy spanking, punishment spanking, therapy spanking. he's got the knowledge and know how. has a strange collection of vintage dvds and magazines. rare stuff that he treats like art rather than smut. jongho i never want to speak on your name im sorry

-

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[beomiracles]

Girl..... Every time I see Yeonjun at a formal event, I just can't help but play scenes in my head. Scenes where he seduced the influential women and got what he wanted while feeling like the most desirable man in the world (he is). Just kill me already (I'm horny)

anon. I love you.

now take that thought and put it into the context of him being a famous motocross racer. (not at all biased by the pictures that dropped yesterday)

okay walk with me...

famous motocross racer!yeonjun who's never had to pay a dime in his life to get him where he is now. cocky bastard lives on the support of others to make it through each race. sponsors. they're vital in the racing industry, and without one you won't make it anywhere. so where does one acquire a sponsor, and how?

racer!yeonjun knows exactly how to sway the interest of rich people his way, knows exactly what to say and which buttons to push. racer!yeonjun knows that women are influential, that women are powerful. and who is he, if not to use that to his advantage?

a small wink, followed by a lighthearted compliment, a drink or two, and he's got them right where he wants them. it leads to plenty sexual encounters, of course. but oh is he enjoying himself, and racer!yeonjun always gets what he wants by the end of the night, another sponsor.

so when he spots you, a diamond in the rough, just waiting to be polished, well he can't possibly help himself, can he? the dress you wear clings to your frame, and racer!yeonjun finds himself entranced by your legs as he approaches.

you reek of wealth, of power, of influence. he needs you, he's not stupid enough not to realise that. and so he prepares himself, prepares to flash you the same smile he did all the others, the same pick-up line, offer to buy you a drink like the gentleman he is.

but when you turn around, his mind suddenly goes blank. you're beautiful. not the kind of sexually-appealing women he was so used to, though he thinks he'd die if he ever got you to join him in bed. your lips are painted a dark crimson and his gaze lingers by them as they wrap around the glass in your hand.

he realises that he's forgot to introduce himself and stumbles over his words. embarrassment rises on his cheeks, he curses himself for ruining his shot at a potential sponsor and is certain that you'll turn him away.

to his surprise, you smile. and before he knows it, his hand is in yours as you greet him. that night, it's you who takes him home, and not the other way around. though in the morning, he gets his way nonetheless, and leaves your apartment with yet another successfully acquired sponsor.