#but this is still very precious to me 🥹

[zepskies]

BETWEEN THE CITY & THE STARS - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: In the fall of 1945, Dean is having a difficult time assimilating back into civilian life after the War. He’s visiting his brother Sam in New York City, where he’s beginning to build up his law firm. At two minutes to closing time, you interrupt their evening to solicit a solicitor. Your request? You need help in order to divorce your husband.

AN: Before we tune back into some 1940s drama, I just wanted to thank you all so much for your wonderful responses on Part 1 of this series. 🥹 It’s my first time doing a story like this, so I’m very happy you liked the jumpstart here. 💖💖

Prompt for @jacklesversebingo: Historical Epic

Song Inspo: “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” by Frank Sinatra

Word Count: 3.7K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, hints of PTSD, flirting, dancing…

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Part 2: Devil May Care

After you got home from work the very next day, your apartment was entirely empty.

Predictable. Michael was still out.

This time, you counted it as a blessing. You rifled through every corner, cabinet, pocket, and drawer in search of evidence—anything you could use to prove, without even one shade of a doubt, that your husband was the unfaithful scoundrel you knew him to be. You knew it, deep in your gut. In your very soul.

You even rifled through Michael’s desk in his office, through every single folder, drawer, and booklet. You’d never done such a thing before because he was a particular man about his things, and you respected his privacy. 

That was done now. In your search, you found a useless ball of rubber bands and old coupons. You took his father’s old collection of fountain pens, which you knew Michael was precious about, and threw them haphazardly onto the desk to make room for your seeking hands through the rest of the drawers.

You even came across a small, crumpled photograph from your wedding day. This one made you pause.

You considered the picture, its bent corners and slightly grainy black and white lens. You’d worn your mother’s wedding dress, and you stared up at your new husband with the rosiest of smiles. He stared into your eyes then the way he always used to—like a man ready and willing to drown in them.

You sighed and let the picture fall from between your fingertips. It swayed onto the desk’s mahogany wood surface, and rested there. You shook your head and returned your attention to your task at hand, holding your hands to your hips.

The problem was, you didn’t see anything incriminating here…until an idea finally occurred to you. You went into Michael’s closet. You sorted through the suit jackets he still needed to get drycleaned and pressed again.

In one of the pockets, you found a receipt. 

You brought it to Sam Winchester’s office the following morning before work, along with some documents of your household expenses. Like you did the afternoon before, he identified the receipt as one for the Cotton Club, a nightclub in the Upper East Side. You had never been there in your life, but you heard it was one of the new go-to spots in town. It was the kind of place you used to wish Michael would take you to, once in a while.

“It could be a lead or it could be nothing, but I’ll check it out, along with these,” Sam said. He gathered the financial documents you gave him as well. 

“Okay. Thank you, Mr. Winchester,” you nodded.

“You can call me Sam if you like,” he said, kind, but still professional. You smiled. Unbidden, it reminded you of his brother.

“Please,” you said, your eyes briefly closing. “Just…call me by my name. My first name.” 

Dean slowly smiled. “Perfect. I like your name better anyway.” 

This time, your smile in return was genuine, if tinged with amusement. 

“Goodnight, Dean,” you replied.

Biting the inside of your lip, you gave into the urge to ask the question.

“It was nice of your brother to walk me home last night…what is he up to today then?”

“Ah, well, he’s out to lunch with a young lady he met last night,” Sam replied, with a somewhat wry, but still amused tone to his voice. You frowned.

“Last night? Does your brother meet a lot of women after 9:00 p.m.?” 

Sam chuckled. “He’s not usually wanting for company.”

“I see,” you said flatly. You should have known. The devil-may-care grin on that man was too charming to be anything less than the mark of a shameless flirt. Maybe even a scoundrel. Lord knew you couldn’t take any chances either way.

Dean returned from his day out with Vanessa. She was a nice enough girl, a knockout blonde too. She was smart, studying to be a schoolteacher. But she also tended to twitter on about frivolous things, so much that he couldn’t really remember much of what she said. She did look good doing it though. Not to mention, she let him feel her up while they kissed in one of the alleys, between the ice cream parlor and a drycleaners.

He predictably found his brother whittling away life in his office. Dean dropped his coat and hat on the hanger with a flourish. Sam raised his head from his work with an amused smile.

“Had a good day, did you?” he remarked.

“I can’t complain,” Dean agreed. “Especially when a beautiful woman’s involved.”

Sam shook his head. Before September, he hadn’t seen Dean in three years. Yet some things just didn’t change.

“You gonna see her again?” Sam asked.

Dean made a noncommittal sound. “We’ll see. The day is young, brother.”

Sam raised a finger. “Speaking of which. Mrs. Milligan came by this morning. I’ve been looking through her husband’s finances.”

“Oh really?” Dean sobered as he approached his brother’s desk. “What’d you find?”

“Overall, things seemed to be in order, until I noticed something strange,” Sam said. Dean lowered into the chairs opposite his brother at his desk, and they went over it all together. Sam appreciated another set of eyes on this, with the understanding that Dean would keep the information to himself. 

Starting roughly eleven months ago, there was a check signed to a Mr. Johnson for a moderate sum. Three weeks later, another check, this time a bit larger. For the past few months, Michael Milligan had been making these payments at least once a month, sometimes as much as three, albeit in different amounts.

“He might just have a gambling problem,” Sam said. He rubbed his chin in contemplation.

“Or it could be what she’s worried about,” Dean pointed out. “The name could be an alias. Maybe Mike’s paying for someone’s services…or paying her bills, if you catch my drift.”

Sam slowly nodded. “That’s a possibility.” He checked the dates on the documents again and shook his head. “Mrs. Milligan told me they got married about a year ago, here in the city. It would mean this guy started stepping out on her a month after the wedding.” 

Dean both could and couldn’t believe it. He might not have been a saint himself when it came to the fairer sex, but if he went through the whole ordeal of marrying one, let alone a straight-shooting woman like you, beautiful, clever…

“Geez,” he muttered. “He could’ve at least waited until the ink dried on the certificate.” 

Sam nodded in agreement. He picked up the receipt to the Cotton Club, and he shot his brother a grin.

“Wanna go to the club tonight?”

A wall of sound. That was the Cotton Club—the band on stage playing jazz tunes, loudly, if skillfully; the clanking of glasses as drinks rolled past; the clamor of heels and leather shoes as couples swung on the dance floor; and the added layer of people raising their voices to compensate. The room was filled with the smell of cigarette smoke, fighting against perfume and cologne and musk and sweat.

It was a bit overwhelming for Dean at first. He tried to ease himself into the scene with Sam at his side, even if he did jolt at the cork of a champagne bottle popping open. Sam noticed, but he mercifully didn’t say anything. He thumped a hand on Dean’s back to steady him under the pretense of a brotherly pat, adding a smile for good measure.

Sam was there to keep a lookout for Michael Milligan. Dean would help, but it wasn’t like he was being paid for it. He was largely aiming to have some fun while his brother was all serious, focused on the work. Dean was here for the community nightlife. 

The beautiful, beautiful community. As a matter of fact, there were lovely ladies everywhere. One sultry blonde was singing an upbeat, jazzy tune at the mic. Dolores Daye, said the banner above the stage.

Dean’s attention shifted from the stage to the scattered round tables outside the dance floor, as well as the chair lined up at the bar. His gaze caught on someone familiar—on you, sat at a table by yourself. His eyes widened. He slowed to a stop while Sam went on ahead.

You were stunning, almost unrecognizable in a shimmering black dress that hugged every lush part of your figure, with sleeves that draped off your shoulders. His eyes drew down your crossed legs, the sheer pantyhose, leading to a pair of tall, shining black heels.   

You wore a hat and partial veil that covered half your face, but he knew it was you. Those lips of yours were familiar on sight. Now they were painted red, dark and luscious.

“Dean?” Sam questioned him. He’d turned back when he realized his brother wasn’t keeping up with him. Dean subtly pointed you out. Sam raised his brows, but then he noticed what you were doing. You had a glass of wine in hand, and you seemed to be watching someone.

Every now and then your gaze would travel across the room, where your husband Michael was sat at a table filled with other men and women. They were laughing, drinking, playing cards. 

Sam and Dean shared a conspiring look, one that said they had the same thought. They went over to you. 

Sensing you were being approached, you looked over and found the pair of tall, familiar men with a widening of your eyes. That pretty mouth of yours fell open in surprise. 

“What’re you doing here?” you whisper-hissed. You beckoned them to sit down so they weren’t standing out so much while talking to you. Both Winchester men were broad-shouldered and tall as oaks.

“The same thing you’re doing, apparently,” Sam said, once he and Dean were sitting across from you at the table. He showed you the camera he had hidden in his coat pocket. “I’m going to see if I can get a read on what your husband’s up to, maybe collect some evidence.”

You let out a rush of breath. “Good, thank you.”

“Until then, maybe you’d be more comfortable at home,” he suggested.

Dean knew what his brother was getting at. This wasn’t the kind of place for a woman to be hanging around…unaccompanied. Not a respectable one like you, who clearly wasn’t used to being in a roaring nightclub. Plus, if Michael did slip up here, it wasn’t exactly going to be pleasant for you.

You still shook your head stubbornly. “No. I want to see it with my own eyes.”

Sam almost sighed, but Dean shot him a nod. Right then, they had an understanding. Dean would stay and look out for you while Sam tried to get closer to Michael. Sam left you and Dean together at the table thereafter, and Dean ordered a drink for himself. You sipped at your wine.

Dean glanced at you in appreciation. You really were beautiful…and not just tonight. Though he had to smile at your “disguise.”

“You think that getup is gonna fool your husband?” he remarked, gesturing at your form.

Your lips pursed, but you kept your head angled towards him, so that your hat and veil continued to hide your face from Michael’s direction.

“It has so far,” you retorted. “And this isn’t a getup.”

You smoothed slightly self-conscious hands down the skirt of your dress. Dean smiled. 

“All right, I’m sorry. Poor choice of words,” he said. He dropped his chin and raised his brows, earning your gaze under the hat. “It’s quite a dress, sweetheart.”

I’d like to see you out of it, he thought, even though he immediately stamped it down. You weren’t exactly available, no matter how delectable you were. The interesting part was, you didn’t seem to realize it as you fidgeted in your seat, a little self-consciously.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” you snipped.

His lips tugged at a smirk. He tilted your hat up a little so he could see more of your frowning face. 

“Want me to do better?” he teased. 

“I’d like you to leave me be. How about that?” you said, grabbing the edges of your hat and tilting it back down. “You’re distracting me.”

“Oh, I’m distracting?”

You met his gaze to give him a hot reply, but your words failed you. Just then, faced with his perfectly handsome, roguish face, you finally noticed how green his eyes were. Holding the gleaming reflection from the crystal chandelier above the bar, they briefly dragged over you again, like he was a starving man, and you were the very last morsel held in front of him.

It was indecent, you thought, but suddenly your mouth had gone dry.

“How about this,” Dean said. He finished off his whiskey and held out a hand to you. “Dance with me. You’ll have a better vantage point to spy on Mike over there.”

“Keep your voice down,” you shushed, glancing around.

Dean just smirked. He beckoned you again with a raise of his brows.

You hesitated, but you still eventually dropped your hand into his. He stood before you so he could help you to your feet. You allowed him to escort you over to the dance floor, and all the while you fought off your nerves. You were only doing this because he had a good idea; this would help you keep an eye on Michael without looking so out of place, a woman drinking alone at the table.

The band was playing a moderately paced song, which was good. You weren’t in this to be swept into the air.

“Relax,” Dean whispered, once he had you in his arms. His hands were respectably placed on your waist and in your hand. You knew you did have to relax though. Already you were too stiff while tentatively holding his hand, your other resting on his shoulder.

“I haven’t danced in—in a while,” you admitted. You were a little nervous as you began swaying with Dean, letting him lead you. He turned you about with ease, even twirling you under his hand.

“See? There’s nothing to it,” he said, welcoming you back into his arms. “When’s the last time you had some fun?”

You tilted your head as you thought about it. You and Dean shuffled about the dance floor in more complicated steps as the song increased in tempo. You were breathless in a good way. In a way that you couldn’t even remember needing to breathe as the golden lights sparkled in the corners of your eyes.

“He took me to a club like this once, about…I’d say month or so after we got married last year,” you admitted between spins. You had to hold a hand to your head to keep your hat on.

You were distracted enough by it all—the spinning, the laughter and tinkling glasses, the flashes of spotlight in between sultry dim shades, the heady smell of this man’s cologne, and his every touch, however brief on your body, but just as confident and measured. You actually told him the truth.

“I’ve been dying to get out more ever since, but…” you trailed as he spun you again, then winded you back into the growing familiarity of his arms.

Dean smoothly guided you even closer to him by your waist, until there was hardly any room between your chest and his, between your face and his. Your hand curled around the back of his neck on instinct, the edge of your nails just barely grazing through his hair. You wouldn’t know how it elicited a hot zing of sensation down his spine.

“Your husband really is blind, and even dumber than he looks,” Dean said, glancing down at your face. “I clocked you in five seconds flat, just by those pretty lips.”

You lowered your eyes, but not very far. They landed on his plush lips in contemplation. When your eyes met his again, Dean had a conundrum. He just didn’t think he cared all that much about the consequences.

His head began to bow towards yours, just when the song slowed to a stop. Almost without realizing it, he pressed his hand a little more insistently on the small of your back. You found yourself accepting that guiding pressure. Half-lidded eyes and heavy, mingled breaths in between…

“Let’s hear it again for Dolores Daye, everybody!” the host called out.

You snapped to attention and glanced over Dean’s shoulder at the singer. She waved goodbye to the crowd with a sensuous smile on her ruby red lips. Then she walked off stage in her glittering golden dress, and she grabbed hold of a man’s tie. That man was your husband.

Michael wore a wide smile on his face as she led him to his feet by his tie. He stood, his form looming over her, though she didn’t seem to mind—especially when his arm wrapped too familiarly around her waist.

It wasn’t the kind of embrace you would see between strangers, even for the sake of a good show for the crowd. Their faces became impossibly close, but it was just shy of a kiss as she laughed, a sound like fine crystal bells.

Dean noticed why you froze. He turned to look over his shoulder and his expression faded, becoming grim. He led you off the stage, and while keeping a discreet eye on the scene, he lingered at the bar in the center of the room. His arm stayed around your waist. He could tell himself it was to stay in character, but really, he just wanted to keep you grounded…that right now, you weren’t alone.  

Here by the bar, it was far enough that Michael likely wouldn’t notice you, but close enough that you both could hear what was happening.

The host stepped down from the stage and joined Dolores and Michael, laying a heavy hand on your husband’s shoulder. Yet another clue that Michael showed his face here all too frequently. The host waved over his entire table of friends, Sam included. He’d managed to get himself invited to sit with them.

“Come on. Join us out back,” said the host, gesturing behind the curtain.

“Where to?” Sam asked.

“For a card game or two, a little smoke, a nice little drink,” Michael said, grabbing Sam’s shoulder. “You in?”

Sam nodded. He glanced over and found Dean across the room with his eyes. They shared a brief, but telling look, after which Sam followed Michael and Dolores past the curtain discreetly. Meanwhile, you were already pulling away from Dean’s arm.

“I’m sorry. I’ve got to go,” you murmured.

You went back to the table to collect your purse. You left the rest of your wine there with a few bills on the table to cover it, and you were off, walking brusquely to the front doors. Dean followed suit, laying some money down for his own drink before he followed after you. The clerk at the front brought you your coat after you handed over your ticket, and Dean did the same.

“Hey, why don’t I take you home,” he said, having to raise his voice even here over the noise.

“No, thank you,” you said thickly.

After you had your coat on, you hastened to the closest bus stop outside the club. It was late, it was dark, and it was cold. You saw your fragile breath on the air as you stood there in your tall heels, and you held yourself for more than one reason as you fought off bitter tears.

You bit your lip and blinked against the burn, but you still had to swipe a few droplets quickly from your cheeks. You tried to even out your shallow breaths. It felt like someone had reached into your chest and started squeezing whatever they found. Whatever was left.

Dean sidled up to you with his hands in his pockets. You heaved a sharp sigh, recognizing him just by his shadow casting beside yours under the streetlamp. You kept your face away from him as you wiped at your tears.

“Why do you insist on watching me be miserable?” you asked. 

“Aw, come on, sweetheart.” He shook his head, carding a hand through his hair. “I know you’re upset. I just want to make sure you get home safe, that’s all. …You don’t even have to talk to me if you don’t want to.” 

You slowly shot him a glance, but you didn’t budge. Your frown deepened along with your furrowed brows.  

“Dean, please. You don’t have to do this just because you feel sorry for me,” you said.

“I don’t feel sorry for you,” he said.

It earned your attention, your confused and hurt expression.

Dean met your gaze steadily. “I feel sorry for him. Because he doesn’t have a clue what he’s just lost.”

Your breath stilled in your lungs. 

His words touched you, more deeply than he probably realized. Part of you still wanted to give a sharp retort, that you didn’t need a chaperone. You didn’t need him to swoop in and collect you like broken glass…but a larger part of you craved the company. You didn’t want to be alone.

Soon enough, the next bus pulled up at the curb in front of you. The doors opened. 

Dean gestured with a sweeping hand towards the bus’s steps. 

Ladies first.

With another small sigh, you climbed up without a word. You even accepted his helping hand as you did so. Dean stepped up after you, and the doors closed behind you both.

AN: Welp, Happy Valentine's Day! 😅💜 Quite literally an angsty ride here, but what should happen on this bus going nowhere...

Next Time:

You admired his hands as they rested casually in his lap. They were larger than yours, with long fingers. His hands look strong and capable, like the rest of him, even though they were always considerate when they touched you.

“Then you should do something you like doing,” you said. “Fixing cars! That’s good, honest work you can make a living out of.”

Dean looked over at you. “You think so?”

You nodded your encouragement, smiling bright. “I know so. You might be a bit of a flirt, but you also look like someone who can accomplish whatever you set your mind to.”

When those words slipped free from your mouth, you realized how he might take that little accusation, let alone how overeager you sounded. Your gaze fell away from him as you felt your face getting warm in a blush.

Dean’s smile slid into a smirk. “I’m a flirt, huh?”

“Well…” You bit the inside of your lip and tried your hardest not to look at him for a while. “At least you’re an honest one.”

Dean laughed freely at that.

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[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Punish me.

Pairing: Boss!Joel Miller x f!reader Rating: +18, NSFW, MDNI Words count: 5853

Summary: What happens when your boss punishes you but you like it too much? You look for more. And more. Tags/Warnings: POV second person, no use of Y/N, legal unspecified age gap, power imbalance, dom!Joel / sub!reader, degradation, oral (m receiving), spanking, unprotected p in v (reader is on the pill but still, do better irl), initially dub-con but reader is very into it, risk of being caught, a little chocking if you squint, cream pie, squirting, reader has no description other than the clothes she is wearing, manipulation, slurs, pet names, reader calls Joel "Sir". This Joel is low-key inspired by Don Draper from Mad Men and the whole thing was also low-key inspired by Secretary (2002). Let me know if I forgot something important, I will add it right away. A/N: Written for Never Have I Ever challenge hosted by the lovely @yxtkiwiyxt , this was my prompt and I had so much fun working on it! Thanks for giving me the opportunity to join! 🥰 Thanks to @aurorawritestoescape for being the most precious beta and @joelmillerisapunk for being the best support I could ask for and for letting me yap about it for a month and half lol I love you so much 🥹❤️ English is not my first language, every single mistake is still on me, I deeply apologize if you find any. Thanks to anyone who will read! masterlist | Joel Miller masterlist

“Mr Miller wants to see you in his office at 3” When Pam called you to say that a shiver ran down your spine.

Your last client was the owner of a large brewing company, a self-centered rich asshole that you couldn’t stomach in any way.

He had been pressing you for weeks for you to come up with the most sexist and stupidest ad campaign ever, all while you were trying to present him with new ideas that didn't necessarily include 10 women in bikinis at the feet of one man or other such things that had been done 200 times already .

You hated the guy with every fiber of your being and you told him exactly what you were thinking about him when he called you a prude and argued that he could show you what a real man was.

Seeing his sleezy smile as he winked at you and told you that you needed to fuck more was your last straw.

You were glad to be rid of him but you knew well that your boss would not have the same opinion. 

Right out of college what you wanted was to learn the profession as soon as possible, and you wanted to learn it from the best in the business. 

Joel Miller owned the most famous advertising agency in town, so you did everything to get an internship there.

You understood why he was so successful from day one.

__________________________________

Pam was sitting at her desk as usual when you walked in. 

Her desk was a few feet from the door of Mr. Miller's office. 

A large, black, solid wooden door with a fine frame, one of those that seemed to lead to the rooms forbidden to poor commoners. 

She just looked up from the computer screen to tell you to come in, Mr. Miller was waiting for you, and then she was back to work.

Pam was a woman in her 60s, blond hair perpetually pulled back in an elegant bun, a pearl necklace around her neck, cachemire sweaters in all pastel colors, silk blouses and matching skirts.

She looked very neat, austere, you could swear you never saw her smile but heck, she was really good at her job and had been managing Mr. Miller's impossible schedule for many years.

You knocked on the door feeling your heart in your throat, thinking you were one step away from being fired.

Joel's voice bounced through the door, heavy and raspy, "come in.”

You entered trying to maintain a composure.

“Good morning, Mr Miller, you wanted to see me?” 

He put down the papers he was perusing on the desk and looked up at you.

“Oh, it's you,” he said in a very calm voice. “The one who made me lose a lot of money.”

“I...I'm sorry but the guy was too much of an asshole for me to take it,” you spat out.

You knew Joel appreciated people who were standing their ground.

“Excuse me, should I care? You just made a thousand dollar check disappear.” 

The silence that enveloped the room was unreal.

You stood in front of his stately mahogany desk, trying to keep your back straight and your shoulders high.

Of course, he didn’t care, he was an asshole too.

________________________________

He had conducted the interviews personally, without delegating it to his subordinates.

He hired you himself, without missing the opportunity to intimidate you in the meantime.

The first day you had come in you were shy, awkward, afraid of your own shadow. 

How did you think you could deliver a presentation in front of a client if you looked like a frightened little bird that had just fallen out of the nest?

Joel said he took a risk hiring you, the least you could do was to show him how much you really wanted the job.

Eventually you learned to fight. 

It hadn't been pleasant or even easy, Joel wouldn't let you get away with anything, criticized your every idea, sometimes blatantly mocked you. 

He had pushed you to work harder than you would have imagined and you were eager to let him know that you were worth something, that you were not just an honors graduate but could translate your knowledge into the practical field.

You also owed it to yourself. 

Your parents supported you but had always told you that you were not the type to work in advertising.

Too kind, too quiet, too sweet. 

“Honey, are you sure? Wouldn't you rather do some other job?” your mother always asked you. 

No, you didn't want to do anything else. And you were going to prove it to everybody.

You became a sucker for Joel’s attention in no time.

Whatever type he wanted to give to you. 

As you progressed and learned, he became gentler, too much so at times. 

Grazing your knee under the table at meetings, touching your waist way too much as you walked down the hallways talking about some projects, playfully slapping your ass once, after successfully signing your first contract with a client.

It was becoming a relationship that other colleagues didn't have to notice.

He was your mentor, your inspiration, the person who had taken you under his wing and taught you to fly.

Along with the desire to do well, however, something else grew in you over time.

Arousal, desire, need. 

It lingered in the air while you were trying to flap your wings and stay aloft.

_______________________________

“Furthermore…” his voice dropped and deepened, “we don’t tolerate this kind of language here.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the clear change in his voice. 

You knew what he was doing. 

And you liked it.

“Well, I’m sorry but there’s no other appropriate word to describe that person” you chirped.

You didn’t drop the asshole just to have this, you really hated the man with all you had, this was just a pleasant collateral damage. 

Joel being angry at you. 

Joel who wanted to punish you.

He ran a hand over his mustache, looking at you as if he wanted to devour you.

You felt your clit throb in anticipation.

He stood up from his chair, he was imposing, broad shoulders and awe-inspiring piercing eyes.

“Let me explain it to you properly. I don't care if he didn't meet your moral dictates, I don't give a damn if he was so obnoxious that he made you sick to your stomach, okay?” his voice was a thin, cold, steady blade.

“Yes, Mr. Miller” you swallowed, without breaking eye contact. “You acted like a whiny child,” he stated. “ And you made me lose a ton of money” 

His heavy step creaked faintly on the fine parquet floor. He was towering over you.

“Yeah, you said that already,” you rolled your eyes.

You would have sworn you were hearing Joel’s blood simmering in his veins and that was exactly what you wanted. 

“Do you think criminal lawyers like to defend murderers? Do you think they like their clients?” 

“No,” you muttered 

“Yeah, they don’t like them but they do it anyway because it's their job.” 

That was a little extreme example but he did make a point.

You were torn. 

Disappointing your mentor was the last thing you wanted but seeing him like that, ready to give  you a lesson was making you horny like nothing else. 

You craved it. 

“Do you know what they used to do to wayward children like you?” 

You could feel the warmth of his body with how close he had gotten.

“Yeah.” 

His eyes looked like onyx stones.

“Say it.” “They spanked them,” you finally let out.

“Yeah. You’re goddamn right, darling. They spanked them.” His words were a sheet of ice on which you couldn't wait to slide.

“Bend over the desk.” 

“No,” you tried to argue.

“I. Said. Bend.” He ordered, punctuating every word.

You raised an eyebrow, glaring at him, but finally gave in. 

You approached the desk, rested your elbows on it and jostled your ass out, poised on your heels. 

He positioned himself behind you, you turned to look at him, and he immediately hissed, 

"Eyes to the wall, missy." 

You huffed, returning your gaze to the large painting hanging behind the desk. 

His hands slid down your legs. 

It was the first time he touched you, the first time you felt his strong grip on your body, the first time his warmth penetrated your flesh.

“You really disappointed me today.” His voice was calm, low, but full of disgruntlement.

“I'm sorry,” you whispered. 

“It's not enough,”

His hands had reached the hem of your skirt, raising it dangerously, pulling it up, exposing the edge of your thigh-high stockings and your panties. 

“Do you still think you deserve a place in this agency?” 

Panic welled up inside you, you felt your cheeks on fire and your hands trembling on the wood of the desk. 

You didn't want to lose everything you had worked for. 

Joel wouldn't sign any reference letters for you, you wouldn't get a job at any other agency, and your career would be over before it even started.

You remained stubbornly silent, trying not to be seen as weak, until he blurted out, 

“answer me.”

“Yes. I made a mistake.”

“You’re goddamn right, honey,” he replied wryly.”How will you fix this?”

That honey sounded like a mockery. Like you were still too soft to do the job and be successful at it. 

You hated it and it made your pussy throb at the same time.

“I will find a way, Mr. Miller.”

“We’ll see” he retorted “But you still deserve punishment, don't you think?”

“Yes,” you breathed reluctantly.

You didn’t like to admit that but you couldn’t stop yourself.

You wanted it too much. 

You wanted him too much.

You didn’t hear him fumbling with his pants, no zippers coming undone, no buttons slipping through the buttonhole.

You just felt his breath fanning over your back and his hand gripping at your hips.

You felt his gaze seeping into your flesh. 

You would have liked to turn around, tell him to get it over with and fuck you, but you didn’t. 

You stood still in your turn, feeling the tension bubbling in your chest while he seemed so calm and collected.

He was taking his time with you.

You sighed, just before you felt the air shift behind you and his hand landed deafly on your ass.

You gasped. 

Another slap had hit you. 

Harder than before.

Pain spread all over your butt, tingling, until it turned into a destabilizing pleasure. 

You had never done anything like that before and as disconcerting as it was to admit it, you liked it. 

You liked it like crazy.

You felt a slick of arousal wetting your panties while you moaned.

“Do you want some more?” 

You nodded eagerly. 

“Oh. You gotta use your word, I feel like I taught you that, right?” He tutted. 

“Yes.” You whispered “please” 

Instead of continuing, he walked over to the bar cabinet, poured himself a couple of fingers of whiskey into a glass, sat back down on his leather chair and looked you in the eyes.  

“Get out of here.”

You stood there watching him, hunched over his desk, wood still pressing on your clothed tits, feeling like you were in a fever dream. 

Had it really happened? 

The heat still throbbing on your ass cheek told you it had.

You stood up, straightened your skirt, your darting gaze metaphorically stabbing him. 

He had humiliated you. 

How had you let this happen? And most of all, why did you want more?

You left without looking back.

Pam wasn't at the desk when you left, you slipped out as quickly as possible, with one fixed thought in mind. 

______________

The next few days he ignored you. He started following another girl who had just arrived and he was behaving the way he had with you. 

Jealousy had never been a vice of yours. Never. But seeing him chuckle at her jokes, praise her for her efforts, smile at her, start calling her by her name like he had done with you made you furious.

It squeezed your chest in a cruel fist.

You had worked on the presentation for a market-leading make-up client, and fortunately for you, the CEO had been enthusiastic about your ideas.

You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of letting him know how much he was hurting you but despite the persistence with which you tried, you grew so hungry for him that all you were thinking about was finding a way to make him furious again. 

To get punished again. You hated having fallen for his game, but by now you were a fish seeking oxygen in the mesh of the fishing net.

You were trying to get his attention in every way without success.

At the peak of your desperation, you had passed an embarrassing number of times in front of his office in the hope that he would come out.

You kept meeting only Pam bringing coffee, folders or Joel's personal correspondence.

After a week she no longer seemed surprised to find you there, there was a kind of understanding in her gaze, a muted feminine solidarity, an ill-concealed displeasure.

“Honey, why do you do this to yourself?” she seemed to say.

You didn’t care. Your pussy didn’t care either.

______________

One day, when you saw Pam pass in the hallways during the lunch break, you decided to do something.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

You had gotten up deliberately exclaiming, “Oh, I really need a coffee!” And you had pretended to head for the common room. At last you had turned the opposite corner and snuck into the hallway that led to Joel's office. You had to hurry.

You slipped inside in an instant and found yourself in front of the imposing door that led to the office of the object of your desires.

He was talking to someone on the phone, you could clearly hear his voice but none in response.

When he finished, you opened the door and entered, full of doubts and fears but the same moved by a disruptive urge you couldn't say no to.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Joel's rough voice greeted you. “I came to see my mentor,” you whispered. ”And to tell him that tomorrow we will sign the contract with the make-up company.”

You smiled, waiting for his reaction.

He demolished you immediately in response, 

“So? What do you want, a golden star? A kiss on the forehead?”

He raised an eyebrow mockingly staring at you.

“No, I just wanted to let you know,” you countered in a voice far too resentful for your taste.

You were turning on your heels to leave when you heard his voice say, 

“What is the real reason you are here?”

You turned again and looked at him. 

Elbows rested on the desk, the sleeves of the white shirt he wore rolled up to leave his muscular forearms exposed, rolling the platinum ring he wore on his middle finger around, his straight shoulders wrapped in the fabric that seemed to contain his broadness with difficulty, the first few buttons left open giving you a glimpse of a few freckles on his bronze chest. 

The posture of the boss judging you, sitting comfortably in his leather chair, a smirk plastered on his face, a defiant expression in his eyes. 

He was both sultry and irritating. 

You wanted to slap him but also take off your panties and sit on his cock. 

To be honest, you wanted to do both at the same time.

“You walked in here without asking Pam,” he noted amusedly, looking at you as if he could read your mind “What were you trying to do?” “Nothing,” you lied, fidgeting with a button on your shirt. “Just my job”

“I think you were trying to get on my nerves,” he suggested

You scoffed “You think you’re the center of my universe?”

“You’re the one in my office right now. Say what you want. Or leave. But I think you want to stay, am I right? Your pussy wants it.” 

You were speechless, totally caught off guard. 

“What do you need, darling?” He urged you, walking towards you. 

He raised a hand reaching for your cheek, brushing it with his thumb. 

His voice softened slightly, the knot in your stomach tightened. 

It felt manipulative. 

But also arousing when he gently pulled your lower lip open and grazed it with the pads of his fingers. 

He grabbed your chin and tilted your head to face him. 

His gaze was authoritative, demanding but also sweet, like he was trying to get you convinced that he was a good guy, just eager to give you something you wanted so much that you showed up uninvited to his office. 

“Punish me,” you breathed as he was sliding his fingers down your neck. 

“See? It wasn’t so difficult. This was all I needed to know,” he chuckled softly, right after grabbing you by the waist, gentleness instantly out of the menu, pulling up your skirt to expose your ass. 

“You want me to spank you again, am I right?” 

Your voice came out husky and broken, you only managed to mumble a “yes”, the most desperate yes you’ve ever said in your life. 

“That's what I was thinking,” he groaned

His hands were roaming your thighs “Hold-ups. Of course. You’re the target for that Agent Provocateur campaign we launched last month, aren't you?”

You would have laughed if you could but you felt his fingers graze the wet, sticky stain spreading across your panties and you gasped instead. 

And then his hand crushed on your ass cheek, his ring marked your skin, pain spreading across your skin, immediately replaced by an unbearable heat. 

It made you feel alive. 

You had his attention again.

One, two, three spanks burned your flesh, you could clearly feel a trickle of pleasure flowing out of you.

“How dare you come into my office just to provoke me? Don’t you know who I am? Huh, little slut?” 

“Yes,” you muttered. “yes Mr Miller but…” 

You had started this, you would have liked to say. 

You were the one flirting first. 

You were the one leading me to want you, this, always. 

Another slap hit you and you said nothing instead. You just moaned. 

A knock on the door stopped Joel in his tracks.

He froze with his hand high up in the air. 

“Who is it?” He asked nervously. 

He still held you tightly by the waist, you tried to wriggle free from his grip without success.

“It’s Pam,” her voice came muffled from outside the door. 

“Fuck” you whispered, you instantly looked around in panic for a place to hide. 

Not the bookcase, or the bar cabinet or the nice leather couch and armchair that were placed in front of it.

There was only one option.

“Get off of me,” you hissed “now!” 

Joel let go of you and you quickly cowered under the desk.

He sat down and spread his legs just enough to give you room as he moved his chair as close to the edge as he could.

“Come in” he ordered, trying to regain his composure. 

Pam cracked the door open and entered the office. 

You couldn’t see her but you could hear her light footsteps approaching the desk and her voice saying “I brought Mrs. Jones’ presentation that you wanted to review, Mr. Miller” 

“Oh. Thanks Pam” 

You could clearly hear the underlying nervousness in Joel’s voice and it was starting to make you laugh. 

You decided that since he was playing dirty you would do the same.

Your hand slowly moved up his pants, grazing his ankle, then his shin, up his thigh, until it reached his crotch.

Joel was desperately trying to hide his squirming as he examined the work of his new protégé. The one he was trying to replace you with.

It was delicious to feel him like that, helpless, harmless for once, totally at your mercy as you moved your hand up and down over his clothed cock that was desperately straining against the zipper. 

Pam didn't move, waiting for him to finish evaluating the project, only her regular breathing told you of her presence.

You liked the risk, the thrill of being discovered that ran under your skin. 

You could do more. 

Slowly, your fingers closed on the metal tag of Joel’s zipper. 

You pulled it down, while Joel tried to hide the noise with a cough. 

You pushed aside the flaps of his pants, pulling down his boxers to free his cock. He was hard in front of you. 

Thick, pink and darker at the tip, pulsing veins ran along the shaft that was slightly curved to the right.

Little drops of pre cum dripped onto his skin, making your mouth water. 

It was perfect and you had to have it. Right there and then.

You kitten-licked the underside where a white pearly bead was sliding, catching it with your tongue. 

Joel squirmed visibly on his chair, you couldn’t see it but you imagined his eyebrows shutting up and his lips twisting. 

You smiled in the heavy and heated air under the desk.

You hoped Pam would go away, but at the same time you were intrigued by putting Joel through the wringer without him being able to make any fumbling movements to stop you.

You held his cock in your hand, it throbbed in your palm, and a musky smell filled your nostrils. The smell of sex. 

You didn’t resist and licked again, more greedily, its flavor spread over your tongue. 

It was driving you crazy.

You felt his whole body stiffen as he sent his secretary away 

“That's all for now Pam, thank you. Tell the team to refine the graphics and report to Ms. Jones that the idea may work but the slogan is a bit weak, I want more ideas for next week ”

He had tried to maintain a professional tone, but his voice cracked mid-sentence, and you could only be mischievously proud of that.

As soon as Pam came out he yanked up his pants and wrapped a hand around your wrist dragging you out of your hiding place. 

“You dirty slut, what were you trying to do?" he rattled off. 

He had you standing up and trapped you against his chest, his half-dressed erection pressing hard against your ass.

His hand closed on your wrist hurt but you didn't care, you liked being manhandled like that.

You weren’t even intimidated anymore, just feral. 

Unhinged, eager, completely drunk on him.

“I thought you liked some action under the desk, Mr Miller” you replied, sneering without shame. 

“Oh you’re so thoughtful, aren’t you?” He barked, shoving you on the desk again.

“Yes I am.” You have never been so cheeky before, you were quite surprised and proud of yourself.

“No, you aren’t, darling”

With that, he pushed you onto the desk, your breasts pressed against the perfectly polished wood and his hands running to your skirt to hastily tug it down. 

It was like Deja vu.

The best type of.

He moved to lock the door.

“Hands on the desk, darling. And you better not take them out of there” 

He took off his tie, placed it on the desk and walked over.

His authoritative voice sent a rush of arousal straight to your pussy. 

He pulled down your panties, making you walk out of them and throwing them on the floor.

His hand grazed your folds, lightly at first and then he covered your whole sex and squeezed, sending a rush of adrenaline into your system 

“First time doing it? Getting fucked by your boss? Mh?”

“Yes” you breathed “I’ve never done anything like this before”

”You think you earned it?” 

“Yes”

He had withdrawn his hand from your pussy and placed both of them on your thighs.

“Bold of you. And I've already told you, you have to learn to speak properly. Yes, what?” His hands were gripping on your flesh so hard you were sure you'd end up with bruises.

“Yes, please” you whispered. “You think you deserve me giving attention to your pussy, huh?” 

His voice was low and raspy, almost like a subdued roar.

“Yes, please. Sir.” You added, emphasizing this last word.

“That's the way I like it, you're starting to learn. Turn around” You got up from the desk and he pushed you to sit on the edge, your bare pussy leaking on the surface. 

He slipped his hands down your thighs, over your bottom, up your back, stopping at the sides of your breasts. His thumbs rubbed your nipples through your shirt and lacy bra while he held you trapped between his body and the desk, standing between your open legs.

Your naked pussy throbbed against his pants, you could feel it dripping over the fabric, making a mess. He slipped his hand between the two of you, touching your folds with the pads of his fingers, up and down gathering more and more of your arousal and spreading it all over on your lips and clit. You tried hard to stifle your moans but a low husky one escaped your lips as you were rocking your hips against his hand.

“Look what I’m doing to your pussy.” He ordered while he started flicking your bundle of nerves. You looked down at his hand moving obscenely over your pussy, two of his thick fingers sliding inside you, his ring right out that was getting wet with you. You gasped loudly at the sensation when he curled them up just right, reaching for your special spot. “Be quiet” he had warned you off “either that or I’ll stop immediately” “No!” You wailed. “No, what?” He barked grasping your neck with his free hand 

You looked at yourself in his pitch black eyes, losing yourself in that deep darkness.

A taunting smile curved his lips. “No, please” you were quick to correct yourself “That’s right” his hand lightly squeezed your pulse point. “Undo my shirt, now” Your fingers were moving awkwardly over the buttons, trying to unfasten them while he continued to move his fingers inside you.

His skin, unveiled before your eyes, was almost too much to bear: golden and dotted with freckles that you wanted to lick one by one.

He smelled like whiskey and mint and a distinctive something that was only his, filling your nostrils, awakening every molecule of that secret part of you that was a slave for him.

Once you reached the last one you were so worked up you were almost on your brink, Joel noticed that right away and stopped, taking away his hand from your pussy. You whined in disappointment and he retorted 

“You don’t get to complain, darling” accompanying his words with a slap on your right tit “we clear?” “Yes, sir. I’m sorry” you breathed, feeling the pain spread all over your chest.

A rush of adrenaline made you quiver against his hot body.

He put his wet fingers in your mouth. “Clean them up, darling” And you did, you thoroughly swirled your tongue all over them, licking till the last drop, going feral for the taste of you and the way he pushed them through your lips, up to his knuckles.

“Good job”

He took off his shirt and dropped it on the floor. He shifted, moving you in front of him.

“Kneel. Show me how sorry you are for complaining” You kneeled right away, moving your hand over his pants, stroking the underline of his cock. “What do you want?” “Your cock” you purred “Ask nicely” he told you, totally unfazed by your attempt to bribe him

“Can I please pull your cock out, sir?” You would have looked up to anyone, but the power it exerted over you at that point was unmanageable and devoured you.

His onyx eyes were fixed on you, pinning you down to the ground, like he was holding your entire being in his fist. 

You couldn’t ask for anything more.

“Go ahead”

You hastily pulled down his pants and boxers, he stepped out of them and kicked them away.

You took his shaft back into your hand, licking the tip first, coating it in your saliva, until it was glistening and pulsing right before your eyes again.

You slid it in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks, savoring his musky flavor, licking him like a lollipop, like the most delicious ice cream you’ve ever had.

“That’s what a good girl does,” he praised you “she fills her pretty mouth with a nice cock, just like that” You relaxed your jaw to take all that you could of him in your mouth.

His fingers reached for the back of your head, holding you possessively 

“Go on, miss, I know you want it, don’t you? You would like my cum on your tongue, huh?” You hummed against his shaft, even more eager for him.

You tried to brush your fingers on your clit, searching for some relief from the throbbing heated mess you felt between your thighs but he scolded you 

“Nuh huh, girl, don’t you dare. You don’t get to come until I say it” You whined, reluctantly moving your hand away.

You kept sucking on his cock, devouring every inch of him with purpose, messy and sloppy, thin trades of your saliva running onto his length to his balls. 

You swirled on the tip before sliding down to them and taking one in your mouth, greedily sucking on it. 

He was granite that crumbled slightly at your every touch, trying to hold back the grunts that vibrated in his throat, trying not to close his eyes so as not to get lost in every lap of your tongue. He tried not to give you any satisfaction but at the same time his body betrayed him, letting slip how much he wanted all of that. And you. 

At his brink, he stopped you, manhandling you back on the desk, tearing away your shirt making every single button pop out and yanking at your bra to expose your nipples. 

His lips closed on one of your hard rock buds and sucked it avidly. You were a whimpering mess, whining under your breath “please sir, fuck me” 

He grazed your nipple with his teeth, running a finger through your folds. 

“Look at you, darling, so hungry for my cock your pussy is weeping,  your body is shaking…” 

With one hand he yanked the papers off the desk, a shower of paper clips followed the sheets to the floor along with a stapler and the golden tag with his name engraved on it.

“Lie down” he hissed 

You lay on the desk, obscenely open and throbbing for him, a raw uncontrollable heat flowing through your body. 

“Please” you cried. 

He grabbed your legs and placed them on his shoulders, holding you tightly by your ankles.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this” he said tapping his cock on your folds and sliding it through them, before starting to enter you agonizingly slow. 

“Mmm feel how good she’s stretching, darling, your tight little pussy’s all full of me” 

“Yes, sir” 

“Say: thank you, sir” 

“Thank you, sir” 

It was all inside you and your pussy was swallowing it hungrily.

He started thrusting into a steady rhythm, slowly at first, like tidal waves hitting you, ripples on a blank shore caressing your special spot, and then stronger, faster, like thunderstorm on the ocean, high dangerous waves making you see stars. 

His huge cock shifting and brushing against your drenched walls, sinking into you again and again. 

Your moans bounced around the room like an echo, mixing with squelching sounds of his dick slamming into you, making you his. 

“Yes, baby, you’re doing so good for me” he whispered “come here”. 

He grabbed you and held you close to his chest, making your legs parting some more, reaching for another angle that made you feel him even deeper. 

His moustache brushed along your jawline, lowering on your neck, his lips sucking on your pulse point.

“Look at you, dripping on my desk,” he muttered softly, his voice reverberating on your skin. 

The impossible pace became too much to bear when his hand moved from your hips to your clit, his thumb brushing on it. 

He looked you in the eyes, feral and assertively “you want to come, huh? Make a mess all over my cock?” 

“Yes.” You cried, seeing the wreck that you were reflecting in his deep brown eyes “yes, please sir I need it” 

“Then come, baby” he said, increasing the pressure on your clit and pushing into you like it was a matter of life or death. 

That was all you needed to hear. 

You broke the dams that still kept you anchored to reality and flooded his cock, squirting all over his desk, a complete and utter disaster disheveled and exhausted. 

The fine wood of his desk was probably ruined forever but he didn't seem to care in the slightest, he pumped into you, grabbing your neck and hair until he spurted all of him into your cunt. 

You felt it warm and sticky, painting your walls, making you full like you’ve never been before. 

He slipped out a moment later, caressing your cheeks and praising you.

You got up from his desk and clung to his neck, pulling him into a long, deep kiss, tilting your head as you felt his tongue play with yours.

“Thank you” you murmured against his lips, smiling softly “And by the way, I’m on the pill”

“I know. I saw you take it the other day in the conference room before the meeting started” he said, while adjusting his trousers and taking a clean shirt from a desk drawer.

“Get out of here, naughty girl” 

“Well, you destroyed my blouse…” you said, picking up the garment from the floor.

“Here, take mine” 

You put on his shirt, too big for you, trying to tuck it under your skirt so it was less noticeable how long it was. He helped you by rolling up your sleeves, barely touching your skin, but enough to make you feel a shiver down your spine. 

“mmm sexy,” he said when he stopped to look at you.

“Let’s try not to make this a habit” he smirked, giving you another playful slap on your ass cheek “We can't do this 24 hours a day, seven days a week.”

“Why not?” You winked right before going out the door. 

You could smell him on you and it drove you crazy. You already knew that you would use his shirt to sleep that very night and for many nights to come.

Once outside the door, Pam looked at you over her glasses, raised an eyebrow, and for the first time you saw a little smile curve her lips.

tag list for this one: @baronessvonglitter @milla-frenchy @thundermartini @probablyreadinsmut @almostempty @gothcsz @harriedandharassed

archive tag: @pedrostories Let me know if you want to be added or removed, I'll do it right away.

[mitamicah]

Since I cannot sleep anyways guess I wont gate keep this picture of the two häärijäs from Hamburg anymore 🤣🥹

[sttoru]

Aventurine with a virgin reader </3 guiding her and moving slowly and gently as he always gives her praises 🥹

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. soft dom!aventurine x virgin!female reader. smut. p in v -> protected. lots of praise. clit stimulation. breast play kinda. very soft and gentle sex. reader gets called ‘baby, my jewel, pretty girl.��� wc; 1.4k

aventurine is a gentle lover; never once having forced you into any acts of intimacy. you’re always the one leading the progress of your relationship. the control over the speed of how things go soothes your worries.

your comfort and consent is his number one priority. his little ‘may i’s before touching you are what reassure you. you’ve clearly chosen the right person to be your partner.

even now - when you’re finally beneath him, with your naked bodies indulging in a romantic session - aventurine makes sure to go slow. softly, gently and tenderly; like you’re a delicate flower. a delicate gem that’s threatening to break with just the slightest touch.

“you’re okay, baby,” aventurine mumbles quietly against your skin, his lips attaching to your neck. he gives you soft kisses all over in hopes to soothe you. he can feel you tremble when he pushes his tip against your tight entrance, “i got you, i got you—i promise.”

he does, in fact, have your back. you trust that he does. aventurine never fails to keep his promises, he always keeps his word even if it may seem impossible. perhaps it’s due to his luck—perhaps it’s due to his overbearing love for you.

“kakavasha..” you whimper his name. the blonde nearly chokes on his spit at the way you called out to him. he pats your head gently, that same hand moving down to collect the tears running down your cheeks. you sniff, “mph, h-how much more?”

aventurine kisses a tear drop away, sighing against your skin. you’re so precious to him and he wishes to convey that fact. he’s trying his best to keep calm, though he can feel his restraints fading each time your nails dig into his back. it hurts so good.

he doesn’t want to hurt nor scare you. therefore, aventurine takes a deep breath and flashes you his charming smile, blonde locks covering his magenta and cyan colored eyes. those eyes that were once devoid of life, now sparkling with affection for you.

“just a little bit. can you hold on for me?” aventurine asks in a soft tone. he places a quick kiss on the tip of your nose. his hands move to hold yours, fingers interlocking. he squeezes them when you answer his question with a nod, “heh, thank you.”

aventurine bottoms out after what feels like hours. he sighs in relief and buries his face into the crook of your neck. you’re tight, squeezing his cock like you’re begging him to stay—to stay connected forever. he gives you all the time you need to adjust to your insides being stretched and moulded to fit him.

your eyes are glazed over as you stare up at the ceiling. you feel so full. the stretch hurts a little, though you’re quick to accommodate to the intrusion. your fluids make it easy and more comfortable for both aventurine and you.

you’re grateful that your lover understands your position. you’ve been scared of sex since you were but a virgin, however it doesn’t seem as bad in the moment.

not when you got a boyfriend like aventurine.

“so precious,” aventurine coos and kisses your jaw. he eventually reaches your lips and gives them a quick yet passionate peck. his eyes roam over your naked, sweaty body that’s glimmering underneath the dim light of the small lamp, “you look stunning, my jewel.”

you tighten up around aventurine the moment he calls you by that nickname. he hisses at the feeling, his cock throbbing with the desire to move already. aventurine distracts himself from those urges by kissing your breasts.

his tongue rolls over your nipples, his hands still pinning yours to the soft mattress below you. he sucks on your chest and doesn’t think twice before leaving a hickey or two. you’re his and he likes to remind you of that fact.

aventurine slowly detaches from your tits, his saliva coating the plump flesh. he grins at the sight and hums in satisfaction. he looks up at you and watches as you say those words he’s waited on;

“it’s okay, you can move.”

aventurine nods after he makes sure you’re totally fine with it. he pulls his hips away, until his cock is halfway in before pushing back in your pussy. slow and gentle thrusts are the way to go.

you quickly get used to the rhythm of your lover’s thrusts. you can feel the love and passion behind them, each move done with a purpose. that purpose being to pleasure you and make you feel appreciated.

“is this okay? yeah?” aventurine pants, his pace quickening, yet also slowing down whenever he feels like he’s overwhelming you. your moans slowly fill his ears and your brain is visibly being taken over by the satisfaction.

your lover is entranced by the way your tits bounce in circles with each soft thrust. he can feel his tip hitting the deepest parts of your wet cunt, claiming you like he’s always dreamed of doing. the way you’re already drunk on pleasure is adorable.

he leans down and presses his lips against yours. this isn’t just mindless sex—it’s your first time and he strives to make it as romantic as possible. his tongue mingles with yours, the mixture of saliva running down your chin because of how sloppy you’re making out.

“just like that– fuck,” aventurine groans as his hips roll against you. he’s slowly drowning in the ecstasy. seeing you enjoy the moment as much as he does, is exciting him more than the actual act. he loves it when you enjoy yourself—gets off to it even, “let me hear more of that pretty voice.”

you let out little whines, blessing aventurine’s ears with your voice, just like he asked you. your boyfriend moans at the sound of you as his fingers reach down to circle your clit. he’s addicted to you—so in love. his hands move to your thighs, pulling them apart just a little more so his dick could reach further.

you get more sensitive by the second. especially when aventurine wraps your legs around his waist, his hands wandering all over your body. the pad of his thumb presses down on your clit, making you even more sensitive. your eyes roll back as you leave red scratches on his back, “feels good, s-so good!”

aventurine smirks at your moans. you’re beautiful in this moment beneath him, his cock filling you up to the brim. he feels the connection between the two of you deepening, your relationship reaching new heights.

the blonde male pants while he holds your body close—hips moving non-stop. he can’t get enough of you and vice versa.

“you’re so sensitive, baby,” aventurine chuckles as he feels your pussy spasm around his thick dick. it’s your first time, so he doesn’t blame you when you tell him that you’re close. he slyly increases the pace in which he rubs your clit, “gonna cum, hm? c’mon, you can make a mess on my dick, pretty girl.”

his smooth voice echoes in your mind and that’s all it takes to push over the edge. you hold tightly onto your lover’s biceps and your back arches off the bed, head lolling backwards against the pillow. your lower abdomen tingles and you feel your legs shake due to the impact.

you’ve never felt so good. it’s so much—the feeling is overwhelming you. your body shakes underneath aventurine. he reads your body language and easily concludes that you’re a bit overstimulated by your own orgasm.

“good girl,” aventurine pats your head and rubs your cheek with his thumb. he kisses the corners of your eyes before doing the same to your forehead. your little whimpers and incoherent babbles melt his heart. your lover nods, “shhh, shh, i know. i know.”

he doesn’t care about the fact that he didn’t get to cum. tonight is all about you, not him. aventurine hugs you to his chest and whispers sweet nothings into your ear while you come down from your high.

“i love you so much,” you whisper between shallow breaths. you can feel your lover smile against the skin of your shoulder before he kisses you there. he sighs in content, not yet pulling out.

aventurine wishes to stay with you as one. for as long as you allow him to. he tilts his head back and looks down at you, placing his forehead against yours.

he truly is a lucky man;

“i love you more. so much more.”

[uchihaharlot]

Okay but Uchiha boys reaction to be woken up w bj :D

OK I CHANGED MY MIND. I am tired as fuck but damn if this didn’t excite me!!! 🚨🚨

NSFW; waking these men up by the cock.

Madara:

Oh god. Several ideas come to mind with this man. The first being, you probably don’t even slip under the sheets before he’s awake, and the second is that he’s tired enough to allow it. So Madara pretends to wake up the moment your mouth slides over his morning wood, groans and stretches his arms under his head (this is the good life, ok?). Before he is close to finishing, he tenses. Because any ounce of his cum that doesn’t flood your womb is considered wasteful, but Madara has a soft spot and since you’re enjoying him this way so much, he decides to fall apart from your hot mouth, and encourages you by gently rutting in time with your mouth strokes. Just make sure you do it right, or he’s going to get aggressive and fuck your face silly.

Obito:

I’m such a fucking bitch for this, and I’m sorry Obi. But have you ever seen a man cum in his sleep?? That’s Obito. Guy sleeps like a fucking rock (not surprising since he’s built like one, your mouth is stuffed with his cock and he’s still asleep????). And he moans the whole time, but very sleepy whines. He actually dreams about it while you’re doing it (and gets sooo red telling you about this dream later in the day, all the while you smile knowingly) 😩🥹 so precious, you thought for sure he would be awake by the time it started to feel really good, but nope! He just is even more adorable, peacefully unawares as you suck him dry.

Shisui:

It’s pretty evident I’m baised with this Uchiha. Lol, I can’t help it. Shisui absolutely wakes up—but with appreciation, slips his hand in your hair and guides you slowly over his morning erection and groans so damn hot and gruff. He’s so hard in the mornings too, not always but today he is. The mornings he’s not, he still enjoys you cock warming him until he grows into your throat and then he groans when you slurp on the tip as he cums, rather fast but oh well. Undoubtably repays the favor; tenfold. Once your mouth is flooded with his sperm, he is eager to reciprocate and feast off your goods.

Itachi:

It’s always so hard to tell what this man isn’t affronted by. He would instantly jolt awake, with a silent but then audible gasp turned treasonous moan. Probably mouth open, it’s always shocking (in a good way) to be taken care of by you, but fuck. Itachi is one of those men that gets off on your pleasure. Like, yes. He loves seeing you work his length, especially since he got in late from a mission and you were asleep, so there was no time for a salacious reunion. But please, if you really want to make him happy and cum fast. Just sit on him once you notice he’s close. He loves blow jobs, but he wants you both to be on the same level.

[harrysfolklore]

31st - hs

happy birthday to the one and only love of my life 🥹🥹 31 omg! i hope he has the best day ever <33

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

You woke up early on February 1st, carefully slipping out of bed without disturbing Harry, who was still peacefully sleeping. The morning sun was just beginning to peek through the curtains, reflecting light across his face. At 31, he was somehow even more beautiful than when you'd first met him - a few more laugh lines around his eyes, his curls slightly shorter now, but still undeniably your Harry.

Making your way to the kitchen, you began the birthday breakfast preparations you'd been planning for days. You started brewing his favorite coffee and pulled out the ingredients for the banana pancakes he loved so much.

As you worked, you couldn't help but smile, remembering his 30th birthday last year - the big party, all their friends and family gathered together. This year, though, Harry had asked for something quieter, more intimate. "Just us," he'd said, "maybe dinner with family later."

The sound of footsteps made you look up, and there he was, leaning against the doorframe in his pajama bottoms and that old Rolling Stones t-shirt you loved so much.

"You're supposed to be sleeping," you scolded playfully, whisking the pancake batter.

"Bed was cold without you," he mumbled, voice still rough with sleep. His hair was adorably mussed, and he had pillow creases on his cheek. "Besides, something smells amazing."

"Happy birthday, love," you said softly, abandoning your cooking to wrap your arms around him.

He hummed contentedly, pulling you closer and burying his face in your neck. "Thank you, baby."

"Thirty-one," you mused, running your fingers through his hair. "How does it feel?"

"Honestly?" He pulled back to look at you, his green eyes twinkling. "Pretty much the same as thirty. Though I did find another grey hair yesterday."

You laughed, reaching up to touch the single silver strand at his temple. "I think it makes you look distinguished."

"Distinguished?" He raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smile. "Is that what we're calling it?"

"Mhmm," you nodded seriously. "Very sophisticated. Very George Clooney."

"Oi!" He tickled your sides, making you squeal. "I'm not that old yet!"

The pancakes were momentarily forgotten as you both dissolved into laughter, play-fighting in the kitchen like teenagers. Finally, Harry pulled you close again, pressing soft kisses along your jaw.

"You know," he murmured, "this is already my favorite birthday."

"It's barely started!"

"Doesn't matter. I'm here with you, in our kitchen, and you're making me breakfast. What could be better?"

Your heart swelled with love for this man who could find joy in the simplest moments. "Well, it might get even better when you see your presents."

His eyes lit up like a child's. "Presents? But you said we weren't doing big gifts this year!"

"And we're not," you assured him, turning back to the pancakes before they burned. "Just a few small things. Though..." you paused for dramatic effect, "there might be tickets to that vintage guitar show in Nashville you were talking about."

Harry's gasp of delight made you laugh. "Really? The one with the '59 Les Paul?"

"Maybe," you sang, flipping a pancake. "You'll have to wait and see."

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, watching you cook. "Have I told you lately that you're the best wife ever?"

You felt your cheeks flush at the word 'wife,' still not quite used to hearing it spoken aloud. After nearly a year of marriage, it was still your precious secret, shared only with family and closest friends. The ring on your finger was usually hidden away in public, and you'd both become experts at careful wording in interviews.

"Shh," you teased, though your heart fluttered at his words. "The walls might have ears."

Harry chuckled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "You know, I've been thinking about that actually."

"About what?" you asked, sliding the last pancake onto the plate.

He turned you around gently, his expression thoughtful. "About keeping it secret. Don't get me wrong, this past year has been incredible, having something that's just ours. But sometimes..." he paused, running a hand through his hair, "sometimes I just want to tell the whole world that I'm married to the most amazing woman."

You set down the spatula, studying his face. "Really? You want to go public?"

"Only if you're ready," he said quickly. "But yeah, I do. It's been almost a year, and honestly, I'm tired of not being able to call you my wife whenever I want to. Of having to take my ring off for appearances. Of watching you do the same."

Your heart raced at the possibility. "It would change things," you said softly. "The privacy we've had..."

"I know," he nodded, taking your hands in his. "But maybe... maybe it's time. And what better day than my birthday? We could post something simple, just us."

You thought about it for a moment. The past year had been magical, your private bubble of newlywed bliss protected from the public eye. But he was right - there was something exhausting about constantly hiding, about choosing your words so carefully, about slipping your rings off before stepping outside.

"Okay," you finally said, a smile spreading across your face. "Let's do it."

Harry's eyes lit up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you laughed as he pulled you into a tight hug. "But after breakfast! These pancakes are getting cold."

Later, after breakfast and presents, you both sat on the couch, phones in hand. You'd chosen a simple photo from your wedding day - just your hands intertwined, both wearing your rings, nothing too revealing but unmistakably a wedding photo.

"Ready?" he asked, his thumb hovering over the 'post' button.

You took a deep breath, nodding. "Ready."

With a click, your secret was out in the world. You both turned your phones to silent, knowing they would explode with notifications any second.

"How does it feel?" Harry asked, pulling you close.

You twisted your ring, which for the first time wouldn't have to come off when you left the house later. "Liberating," you decided. "Scary, but good scary."

"No more hiding," he agreed, kissing your temple.

"No more hiding," you repeated, then laughed. "Your mum's going to be thrilled. She's been dying to post those wedding photos."

"Oh God," Harry groaned good-naturedly. "She's probably already sharing them as we speak."

You snuggled closer to him, enjoying this quiet moment before the world would inevitably explode with the news. "Happy birthday, H. Sorry I kind of hijacked it with our announcement."

"Are you kidding?" He grinned down at you. "This is the best gift you could have given me. Now everyone knows I'm the luckiest man alive."

"Charmer," you muttered, but you were smiling.

"Your charmer," he corrected, then added with obvious delight, "Your husband."

"My husband," you agreed, loving how it felt to say it out loud, knowing you wouldn't have to whisper it anymore.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by zayn, yourinstagram and 20,876,449 others

harrystyles Best birthday gift was marrying my soulmate almost a year ago. Thank you for keeping our secret. ❤️

February, 2024

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username1 WHAT THE HELL

username2 IS THIS A JOKE

taylorswift Finally!! 🥂 Keeping this secret was TORTURE. So happy for you both ♥️

gemmastyles Bbout time you two told everyone!! now i can finally post all the cute photos from the wedding 😭💕

lizzo YALL I WAS AT THE WEDDING AND HAD TO PRETEND I WASNT THIS WHOLE TIME 😭 CONGRATS AGAIN BESTIES

niallhoran The most beautiful day! Love you both!

yourinstagram Finally 🤍 Happy birthday to my husband (!!!) who makes every day feel like a love song. Thank you for choosing me, always.

username3 HUSBAND???????? MARRIED????????? IM SHAKING AND CRYING AND THROWING UP

username4 OH MY GOD THE SIGNS WERE THERE ALL ALONG. REMEMBER WHEN HE KEPT TOUCHING HIS RING FINGER IN THAT ONE INTERVIEW??

username5 not me zooming in on every detail of this photo 👀 THE RINGS ARE SO BEAUTIFUL IM SOBBING

username6 the way they kept this secret for a YEAR?? we love a private couple

username7 HARRY STYLES IS A MARRIED MAN. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. I REPEAT. HARRY STYLES IS A MARRIED MAN

username8 im so happy for them but also crying in the club rn 😭

username9 THE WAY YN JUST CALLED HIM HUSBAND IM SCREAMING

username10 not me thinking about how they had a whole secret wedding and we had no idea 😭 they're so powerful

username11 "best birthday gift" STOP IM CRYING THIS IS SO ROMANTIC

[norrisainz33]

golden || ls18

☆ summary: lance and his long term partner and actress, y/n, attend the golden globes

☆ pairing: lance stroll x actress!reader

☆ fc & warnings: zendaya & none

☆ a/n: shorter one bc i was inspired by zendaya and the big ring she was wearing last night hehe also lance has been moving me lately

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

ynuser has posted a story

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user1: tuning in for you only

user2: i can’t wait to see what you wear!!! you are going to shine like always

lance_stroll: my beautiful gorgeous girl

ynuser: my sweet precious boy

lance_stroll: hoping on the plane now! should be there in a few hours.

ynuser: wonderful! thank you for coming all the way out to la baby - i know things are busy for you these days

lance_stroll: you are always my first priority y/n/n and this is a big deal ❤️

ynuser: i am so lucky to call you mine lancey

lance_stroll: i’m the lucky one 😘

yourbff: i’m so excited for you my love

ynuser: and i’m so excited to see you soon 🫶🏻

user22: people died!!! (me i’m people)

chloestroll: yayyyy!!! you’re my favorite superstar!!

ynuser: chloe 🥹

user3: MOTHER!!!

lance_stroll has posted multiple stories

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user2: the prettiest princess to ever princess

user8: when i show up to a who loves y/n most contest and ur there 🙄

astonmartinf1: make sure you send us all the pictures possible. can’t have our man stepping out without posting about it 😮‍💨

lance_stroll: don’t worry admin - you’ll get them before anyone else does!

user87: just casually showing up with bouquets and dior… oh to be a wag 😭

ynuser: reunited and it feels so good ❤️

lance_stroll: nothing beats being with you darling 🤍

user12: happy for you (i’m single and jealous)!

chloestroll: give my girl a hug for me

lance_stroll: you got it 😘

user9: your commitment to be at every event of hers is truly the sweetest thing

ynuser has posted to their private story

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yourbff: girl call me wtf

yourbff: DONT LEAVE ME ON READ IK YOURE JUSY GETTING YOUR HAIR DONE RN YOU CAN CALL ME

ynuser: CALLING NOW CHILLLLL

yourbff: OMG BESTIE IM SCREAING AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS

ynuser: 😂😂😂😂 i can hear you all the way from la

yourbff: this is one of the best days of my life fr

ynuser: s a m e girl

estebanocon: mon ami what happened?

ynuser: lance will call you shortly my dear friend ❤️

lance_stroll: 🤭

ynuser: eeeeeeek i love you

lance_stroll: i love you to the moon and back

flavy.barla: cryptic? but also give your little puppy a kiss from me mon ange 😘

ynuser: are you and estie together? if so, expect a call sooooooonnn!!!! also puppy says they miss you

flavy.barla: omg yes we are together!

flavy.barla: y/n/n! i’m still crying im so excited for you two you have no idea

chloestroll: HEHEHEHEH

ynuser: sisssyyyyyyyyy

ynuser has posted to their story

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user2: GORGEOUS????

user18: is it just me or are you showing off that ring in like a …… it’s more than just an accessory way

yourbff: how is it that everything looks perfect on you?

ynuser: stop ittttt 😭

flavy.barla: stunning, beautiful, perfect! not a single note

ynuser: thank you flavy 🫶🏻

f1gossip: now y/n/n…. is that what we think it is?

lance_stroll: genuinely speechless. how does one get so beautiful?

ynuser: lots and lots of makeup

lance_stroll: oh stop! its natural

user19: foaming at the mouth

madelyncline: begging you to style me. i wanna be like you when i grow up 😩

ynuser: your wish is my command 🙌🏻

user34: you never miss

user21: s2g that’s an engagement ring

mclarenf1: nice color dress 🤭

F1Gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6, user7 and 12,643 others

f1gossip: actress, y/n y/l/n, attended the golden globes last tonight with long term partner and our very own, Lance Stroll, sporting a rather large diamond ring on her left hand. when asked by a reporter if the ring on her finger was an engagement ring, all she did was give a coy smile and a shrug before changing the subject. looks like wedding bells are ringing for one of our favorite duos!!

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user2: first of all - y/n is radiant. second of all - i’m so glad these 2 are end game i love them

user6: how lance bagged this baddie will forever be beyond me

user28: he’s a good man savannah

user12: happy for them (i’m crying my eyes out)

user44: a little commotion for the dress my god

user33: all i can think abt is how it’s papaya

user9: now that is a ROCK! making my partner take notes

user4: my shot is with y/n is now GONE

user22: what do i have to do to get myself a billionaire to give me the biggest ring i’ve ever seen in my whole life

user35: no fr asking for a friend

user11: no lance!!!! that’s MY girl!!!

user9: i’d put a ring on that too if i was him

lance_stroll has made a post

liked by astonmartinf1, ynuser, estabanocon, hugoboss, yourbff, fernandoalo_oficial, and 540,928 others

lance_stroll: had the best evening with the most beautiful girl to have ever graced a red carpet. thanks for having me goldenglobes and thanks to hugoboss for the magnificent suit.

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user18: we got a lance post before gta6

user22: missed him dearly

astonmartinf1: that’s our driver 🤩

user34: that old money hotness is real

fernandoalo_oficial: looking good!

ynuser: magnificent suit indeed 😍

lance_stroll: maybe i should wear them more often

ynuser: yes please 😩

user3: don’t think i didn’t notice the big ring on y/n’s hand. care to explain lance?

chloestroll: two of my most favorite people 🥹

user24: seething with jealousy

estebanocon: cleaned up real nice mon ami

lance_stroll: merci esteban 🤍

user28: i am down so catastrophically bad. i cant decide which one of you i want more

ynuser has made a post

liked by lance_stroll, landonorris, yourbff, sabrinacarpenter, astonmartinf1, glenpowell, and 980,285 others

ynuser: it’s all in the details

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landonorris: cool papaya dress

ynuser: it’s orange mate

landonorris: close enough! thanks for being a fan 🧡

user99: this is all but confirmation honestly

sabrinacarpenter: i think i might be in love with you

ynuser: well thank god the feelings are mutual 😭

user12: there’s not a single red carpet where you don’t devour

lance_stroll: you have one new really good detail

ynuser: i do yeah! someone special picked it out for me

lance_stroll: well they certainly did a good job

ynuser: the best job some might say!

mclarenf1: currently fangirling! don’t mind us

astonmartinf1: back!!! back i said!!! 🤺

user13: the squeal i just let out

flavy.barla: reject me so i can move on already 😭

ynuser: i have no interest in rejecting you!!! lets run away tg instead

estebanocon: only if lance and i can run away together without you then

flavy.barla: fine by me!

lance_stroll: wow 🙄

user88: my 2 favorite people just got engaged no one speak to me

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated 🤍

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[russellsppttemplates]

Lando calling his wife "lovie" got me 🥹🥹🥹

And just the image of him cooing about a milk drunk baby is enough to send my ovaries into combustion!

Would you maybe write a little bit more about it, like maybe Lando posting or sending his family pictures of his milk drunk babies because he thinks it is the cutest/funniest thing?

Note: you and me both, anon!

"Tell me this isn't the cutest, squishiest face you have ever seen!", Lando groaned softly as he admired your babygirl while he walked in the Silverstone paddock, "I have to admit that's a pretty cute baby", Ted said into his microphone.

"Pretty cute? Tilly is the cutest", Lando stated, adjusting the hat on her head to shield her face from the sunshine that graced his home race weekend, "she has her tummy full and she was out like a light, nothing can bother her, she's in her own little world", Lando smiled, delighting everyone who saw the infections of the new father and his babygirl.

"It's extra special, no? Your home race, your family is here - the youngest Norris is here too - and a pole position that by the looks of it could get you a home race win", Ted wondered.

"Yes, it definitely is, we're not taking anything for granted until we race, obviously, but the spirits are definitely high", he smiled, kissing Matilda's cheek as she made a little noise, "I had another question to ask you but this little one made it fly out of my brain, actually", Ted chuckled as he shook his head.

"She usually has that effect on people, you can't really pay attention to anything else", Lando smiled proudly.

.

"Little man is down, was absolutely milk drunk and went out like a light", you said as Lando stepped out of the en suite bathroom, crawling up to you in bed and stroking the baby's soft cheeks, "He's so sleepy, look at him", you cooed, "he fell asleep with my nipple still in his mouth, I barely got a burp out of him before he was knocked right out", you smiled.

"We make really cute kids, don't we, lovie?", Lando said, resting his head on your chest and facing Fraser, and from your point of view, it was clear this baby would become a Lando clone soon enough.

"So far, they all look the most like you, so you're really just tooting your own horn", you scoffed playfully, "these cute cheeks and pouty lips, lovie? They're all you", Lando charmed, making you blush.

.

"Can you give her the bottle, please?", you asked Lando, "I need to make sure Matilda is not doodling instead of doing her homework", you kissed Lando's lips and baby Charlotte's cheek.

"Let's warm this up for you, babygirl", Lando said as he put the milk in the bottle and popped it in the warmer, "you're hungry, aren't you? And fighting sleep so I've heard - you gave mummy a full on afternoon", he giggled, pulling funny faces as she giggled at her father's antics.

"Off we go then, open up - there we go, Lottie", he smiled as she suckled, finally get her tummy full as he walked around bouncing her, "hopefully you'll sleep because you really need it, and that way you can also give mummy a little bit of a rest, just so enough me and her can have a cuddle, you know?", he playfully tsked, "you've been stealing all of my cuddles", he giggled as he looked at her precious face. Life had been generous enough with him - he had the woman of his dreams, a career he loved and their three little ones. Life was good.

After burping Charlotte, Lando rocked her to sleep, which didn't prove to be very hard as she was milkdrunk as ever, her little mouth opened as she rested on his chest.

"Tilly is doing fine and Fraser is happily playing with his toys", you said as you sat down on the sofa next to your husband, your daughter happily sleeping on his chest, "take a picture of this cute face and send it to the groupchat, please", Lando whispered as he gave you his phone so you could dot it.

Lando: Look at this cutie 🥰

Flo: Look at her chubby cheeks, I can't!

Cisca: She looks so out-of-it-milkdrunk, I bet she's having a good nap!

Lovie: Seeing her like this almost makes it look like she wasn't wide awake the whole afternoon - she never closed those big eyes, she was always staring at me!

Adam: look at our little girl 😍

"You're so loved, babygirl", you said, brushing the hairs on her head, cuddling closer to your husband.

"Finally I am the one getting a cuddle from mummy", Lando cheered, kissing your lips, "jealous much, handsome?", you teased, "just wanted a cuddle from you, woman! This one has hogged your boobs from me - I have to take what I can get!".

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[maxivstappen]

congrats on 1k again mel 🤍 i'm so proud of u!!

i'm requesting for ur event: the lyrics "you make me wanna fall in love" from "juno" by sabrina, and the driver is oscar piastri

౨ৎ MAKE YOU FALL IN LOVE ‧˚. OP81

౨ৎ PART OF MY 1K EVENT & my short n' sweet series (not posted yet) ౨ৎ

summary — you said it was casual, but you both knew it wasn’t. he liked to tell people that he’s certainly not in love with you, so maybe you just had to make him fall in love.

a/n — thank you so much for your constant support ml🥹 im not too happy with how this turned out, but i hope you enjoy reading anyway <3 based on the song ‚juno’ by sab!

warnings — kinda smutty?? jealous!oscar, making out, very suggestive, hints of angst, english isn’t my first language, not proofread

It really wasn’t your fault.

You decided to keep it casual as to not get him into any drama, so that people know his focus was keen on racing - becoming a world champion and whatnot - and also for your sake, because the hate, if you weren’t used to it, really could become unbearable, and the last thing Oscar wanted was for you to have to deal with any of that, you were just way too precious to him for that. So the decision was made. No strings attached.

Stupid, right? No strings attached is something to settle on before being all the way into it. Because at that point of your relationship, there was no way to keep it casual anymore. The only way was to take a few things that had been said two or three times too often back. To leave it all behind and really only do those things for ‚urgent needs‘ . No more spending the night or cooking together or meeting up without the friend group or sneaking away from said friend group just so he could finally rip the dress you had been teasing him with all night right off of you. But he had other plans, he seemed to just keep going with it. Telling you how much he missed you every time he was back from the long weekends, repeating the same three words over and over again as he makes his way down your thighs, kissing every clothed and unclothed spot he could reach from under you.

The first time it happened it was simply an accident, at least that’s what you told everyone. At least that’s what you told yourselves. But your touch and perfume still lingered even after a week, so the next time you saw each other at a birthday party of one of your mutual friends, Oscar couldn’t keep his hands off you either. Confessions of being attracted were spoken out loud and the only thing keeping you from taking it farther was nothing more than a mental holdback. You were scared of the public. He was scared to see you hurt because of that.

After a weekend during summer break spent together you asked him to finally decide on where to go on from this. He blurted out that he’s not in love, so there was no reason for things to get complicated. Your breath hitched. Casual hookups was what he said. Friends with benefits, you chuckled, seemingly angreeing with him as to not make this situation any weirder, even if it hurt just a tiny bit. But he was right. You had a different idea of a perfect life than he had. Racing was his passion, being in the spotlight was part of the sport, and you couldn’t even handle having to hold presentations in class because you hated being the center of attention. You two were just too different.

So yes. It is his fault! Because if he’s really, after all these lovey-dovey moment shared, still not in love — like you admittedly were — then he should stop acting like he did. Why would he get you flowers every few weeks? Why would he gift you a whole vacation with your best friend including hotel, trips and things a sane person wouldn’t even ask for for your birthday, and the rest of your friends would only get a normal birthday card and occasionally whatever small thing they had wished for? If you were really just casual, then why did he treat you as if none of this was ever just casual at all? Why did he treat you like his girlfriend if he so confidently stated that he’s not in love with you just months ago?

He couldn’t expect you not to want him to fall for you too if he was the one who made you fall for him in the first place. As if the “casual” sex wasn’t enough already, he just had to do the most romantic shit for you as to not let you get over him at all. He wanted to play with your head, he made it obvious. Too many mixed signs, too many actions done but too little words said. Lucky for you and for him, two can play the game.

If he was sooo sure he’s not in love with you, which he just had to be, maybe you just had to make him realize his loss if he ever lost you. You had to make sure he knew that you were desired also by men who weren’t him, and since it‘s his fault you fell for him in the first place, he should be the one who has to face he consequences of not loving you back.

In other words, a little jealousy clearly wouldn’t hurt him.

You were getting ready in the bathroom of your apartment together with your best friend, “juno“ by Sabrina Carpenter playing in the background while you gossiped about whatever came to mind — including Oscar and you. It was a secret to everybody else, but not to her. She was the one you cried to after Oscar told you he didn’t have feelings for you.

You finished up your makeup with some lipgloss, and once you were final,y content with your accessories and outfits, you made your way over to your friend’s, jack’s, birthday. Everybody was there, including Oscar. And Lando. His only ally and his biggest rival. If that didn’t make him crack, then nothing would, but you decided to try, at least. Lando and you got along alright already when you had only just met, and he was the first man to point out that Oscar and you aren’t just friends, right?

So when you suddenly put your hand on his arm, slowly rubbing up and down his biceps, he was confused at first, and then caught up on your quick nod in Oscar‘s direction while holding eye contact with him. Lando didn’t mean to do him any harm, but as much as he loved his teammate, he would never be one to turn down an opportunity to mess with him like this, especially not if he knew it would, at last, make Oscar snap so he didn‘t have to listen to his hopeless whining about his relationship with you being oh so complicated. Just ball up and confess, man.

It was innocent at first. Just simple touches, your hand on his chest for just a tiny second because you needed something to steady yourself on as your reached behind him to grab your drink from the small table the couch stood in front of, or his arm around your waist when you all stood next to each other to take a round of shots. Lando was certainly amused and your best friend was winking and giggling at you the whole night, seemingly loving your plan, because Oscar was definitely reacting.

His blood was boiling and he wanted to punch that smug look right off of Lando‘s face. How dare he touch you when he knew that Oscar, his own teammate, loved you?

Oscar thought it was better like this. Playing pretend instead of facing the truth, and he was pretty damn good at doing so. He was sure you believed him when he said that he doesn‘t want your relationship to include anything other than moments of lust, he thought it was easier that way. He thought it would make things less complicated, thought he could live his life without having to put you in any danger, live his life without needing you by his side every second of his damned life if he just put some boundaries. Surprise! It only made things worse, plus apparently, guys seemed to think you were available now, thought they could have you like only he can. And it made him fucking furious.

So when you stood up to pour yourself another drink in the kitchen, he followed, of course not before shooting the other driver for McLaren a death glare. Lando sighed and leanded back in his seat, happy to see your man finally making a real move. He hoped so, at least. Oscar closed the door after entering. It was only you two now.

“Fancy another beer?“ You asked calmly, but the feeling in your stomach was far from calm. This could end in complete rejection, maybe he could see right through your façade and thought you were childish for doing this? But how could you not?! Oscar himself made you do it with his mix of signs every damn time you saw each other!

He shook his head.

The tension between you was palpable as he watched your every move, back turned to him. You felt awkward, but tried to ignore it. The light was dim, and you could still feel the bass vibrating through the floor and the walls coming from the speakers in the living room. Was music this loud even allowed at this hour?

You finished pouring yourself some more champagne when you saw him walking over to you in the reflection of the glass cupboard in front of you. You sucked in a breath, not daring to say anything, feeling slightly hazy from the alcohol you‘ve drunken in the past few hours already. His cologne became starker as he stepped closer to you, eyes closed as you let the familiar smell of him take over you completely. You only opened them again once you realized he caged you between himself and the counter, pressing himself against your behind. He started softly kissing down your neck behind your ear, almost tickling you with how light his lips felt against your hot skin. You wanted this, you wanted him. But his touch wasn’t nearly enough, you wanted all of him, and not just his body. Every yet so little interaction you had during the evening left you with butterflies going crazy in your tummy, yet he never seemed affected, not until Lando came into view. Did he really only want your body and not more?

“What were you doing with him, y/n?”

Nothing but a moan left your mouth as he gently bit into your skin, sucking on your sweet spot as you subconsciously rubbed up against him. You didn’t even want to reply, you just wanted him to keep caressing your skin with his mouth. “Tell me what you were doing with Lando, huh, baby? What were you thinking?”

“Oscar I-“

“Keep talking or I’ll stop,” he whispered as he made his way down your back and then back up your shoulder, kissing and mouthing at every spot. Thankfully your best friend had convinced you to wear the backless top, you thought.

You huffed. This felt so humiliating, but you couldn’t keep going like this, not when he makes you feel like this and then leaves like nothing ever happened. You lived a lie and it was time to stop.

“I was trying to make you jealous so that you would finally stop and do something!”

Oscar’s furrowed his eyebrows and stopped in his tracks, hands still on you. What were you talking about The tension came crashing down onto your body once again, his doing not distracting you anymore. You seemed to want to have this conversation, and Oscar could easily put some of his lust away in moments like these. You didn’t get a reply, the cue for you to turn around and face him. You were still caged between him and the counter, his hands steady on either side of you now as he leaned down to look at you. you couldn’t focus like this, not with him so close to you and with the alcohol running through your body like blood. You looked up at him with doe eyes, prettily batting your lashes even if your mascara was slightly smudged already.

“Stop what? Talk to me, please. I didn’t like seeing you with him,” he looked concerned. Worried even, worried about what he might have done wrong. He wanted to be with you, keep you as his, so why would you want to stop being exactly that?

“Why don‘t you love me?“ You whispered, tears forming in your eyes. You hated it, but it was inevitable. The confrontation was overwhelming you anyway, and being under the influence managed to make it a lot worse. Your hands were all shaky and so was your every breath as you anticipated his reaction, expecting rejection but still hoping for more.

“I- What? Why would you think that?“

“Maybe because you literally said so?“

“Uhm, okay fair point. Listen y/n,“ he sighed, and you could practically hear your heartbeat throbbing inside your chest. He thought for a second, but didn‘t say a thing. Instead, he grabbed your face and kissed you like never before, he kissed you with more than just passion, he kissed you with love. his fingers wiped away a tear that had rolled down your face, kissing and holding you as gently as he could. “Don‘t cry on me, y/n, please don‘t,“ he begged as he now kissed down your cleavage, leaving lovebites on your collarbones. “Was just being stupid, didn‘t wanna hurt you baby, thought long distance is too hard,“ he said something, anything to make you understand that the only reason he didn’t confess was because he was scared of his life not being compatible with yours, and not because he didn’t love you.

You smiled into the kiss once he reached your lips again. You‘d have to talk about it more tomorrow morning after taking some aspirin, you knew, after all, that you‘d go back home with him. It wasn‘t enough to make it official, you weren‘t boyfriend and girlfriend, but you finally had the guarantee that he felt the same way, that he loved you just like you did him.

Oscar swore himself at that exact moment, when he felt you smiling while his lips were dancing against yours, that he would never make you feel so unloved again. It wasn’t his intention in the first place, but seeing your beautiful eyes filled with tears because of him made his heart shatter, and he never wants to see you like that again, not if he was the reason for your pain. And even though you did have to make him realize through making him jealous, you certainly didn’t have to make him fall in love with you.

Because he already was.

౨ৎ general taglist / sns taglist ::

@norrisdriver / @1655clean

[bunny-jpeg]

can I pretty please get nanaimo bars,english muffin with the side of milkshake, frozen latte with Charles Leclerc 🥹🫶

bakery menu

the bakery is open and accepting orders! we're cooking up smiles every day! submit your own order! reblogs & comments are appreciated! thank you lovely anon for submitting this, it was something very different to write that i loved. size kink with charles is super interesting given how many people see him. but sometimes i forget he is close to six feet tall and built like someone who does f1. he may look sweet as honey, but there's probably something more sinister (sexually) going on in that brain of his, haha.

nanaimo bars ("who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it.") + english muffins ("aw, is someone crying?") + milkshake (size kink) + frozen latte (dumbification) served by charles leclerc (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, size difference/kink, dumbification, teasing/dirty talk, crying kink, cry baby!reader, oral sex (charles receives), deepthroating, facials & cock slapping, safe words/signals, hair pulling

"mon cœur"

"la douleur dans ma poitrine."

"mon amor..."

"ma salope."

charles liked to make you cry. he loved when his mean words would curl up into your brain and make that waterworks come out. he was the prince of ferrari and of his home country. it's pride and joy. he was seen as effortlessly cool and could entice anyone. that smile, those green eyes. but even with all he had been afforded, nothing turned him on more than seeing his precious girlfriend's bottom lip wobble her eyes grow cloudy with tears.

he was running on high after monza, it was like everything was barking in the back of his head. even out of his driving suit and away from the track for the night, he could still feel the adrenaline. and while many would go for a run or spend the night with a drink in hand. he yearned for something different.

and when he saw you in his lavish hotel room, in one of his shirts and what appeared nothing else underneath. he knew that he was in for a treat tonight. with his bag down and his shoes off, he entered further into the room. he ended up by you on the couch and took you by the chin.

he smiled, "most take off the make up before they get comfortable." his thumb trailed under your left eye.

you replied, "i took everything off earlier and put on the mascara that runs easily." it was from a cheap brand at the pharmacy. perfect for what charles liked.

he chuckled, "you are just full of surprises, my love. you're going to be good for me tonight, right?" it was moments like these that you realized just how much bigger charles was. most painted him as short and frail.

he was just under six foot but built in a way to withstand the strain of racing. with large hands and thighs that could kill. his hand could easily fit around your neck as easily as his cock did to the back of your throat. there was a flicker in the greens of his eyes, the noble prince had stripped away into a hungry animal that yearned for you.

you swallowed, "i always am. always for you."

he tapped your cheek six times and you tapped his wrist once in response. even if these sick games where you cried and grew stupid on his cock, there were limits everyone had. charles didn't want to break your little world apart because he took it too far. he got on the couch next to you and undid his belt. your delicate hands helped him and dropped the leather to the floor.

charles held you face to look at him. he remarked, "you really are pathetic, so eager. i'm surprised you didn't stalk the halls looking for something to fuck your throat while i was out."

you frowned a little bit, "i'd never, honey."

he pinched your cheek a little harder than normal and leaned in, "right, right. because you're a good girl, my pretty girl. who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it." his words were enticing and it made your stomach flip.

"i am."

"you are pretty, my love." he said, "god blessed you with good looks because he knew you'd be stupid. add a dash of being a cock hungry whore and sometimes i get worried. i've never wanted to kill a man, but if another sank his teeth into you." his words were low and they made you curl in your gut.

if you wanted out, as a last resort. tap once then six times in rapid succession. charles liked to make your bottom lip wobble, but he wasn't a monster. he pulled you in for another searing kiss, his hand in between your legs. he felt panties as he rubbed his hand up.

he knew it was going to be a long night tonight. but first, he had his eyes on your pretty throat. after all his marks had faded over the week. while there would be press photos soon, they didn't mean he couldn't mess up the inside of your throat. even if you couldn't talk for the week, he was more than happy to do all the talking for both of you.

"stupid thing." he said, "you know that? i feel sorry for whatever school gave you your diploma." he acted like he wasn't at your graduation, "i bet you paid them off. or worse, sucked them off. little whore on campus, too stupid to actually learn anything except be on her knees and breath through her nose." he made a small noise of disappointment.

and charles got excited at the sight of you. that bottom lip was going, he could see the shudder in your shoulders. that struck a nerve, post-secondary was hard for you. you felt like people called you dumb without actually saying it. and charles' toxic words only added the fuel to the fire of doubt.

"aw, is someone crying? don't cry." he said, faking sympathy, "if you start crying then you won't suck my cock properly." he rubbed the back of your head as he watched the tears come down your cheek. he sighed once more, "silly thing."

soon your head was between his legs. he could feel your hot tears against the base of his cock as they streamed down your face. they weren't a rush of tears, but a slow trickle as charles' words clouded your head.

you started to work his cock and he felt the excitement in his body. it took a good while but eventually you learned how to deep throat him. he hissed and held onto the back of your head. you were both still clothed (or at least partially for you).

charles had a habit of running his mouth when your mouth was on him. and he rocked the blunt end of his cock up against the back of your throat, occasionally making you choke, he started talking. "i should throw you to the rest of ferrari. let them ruin you. then maybe you'll stop being so greedy for cock when you've had enough for a lifetime. i see how they look at you, my logo across your pretty breasts as you look so cute down at the paddock. if i waved my hand and told them to have their way with you, you wouldn't be getting far." he tugged on your hair a little and forced you up and down his cock faster.

you choked a little bit and sputtered, trying to catch your breath through your nose. it all was a deep throb in your head as you tried to cram as much of his cock into your throat.

"i'd say they'd make your ass ferrari red. but i think it would be closer to mercedes black. you wouldn't be able to sit right for months. maybe i'd be generous and let the other drivers have a chance too. crying on their cocks."

you sniffled, tears welled up in your eyes some more. while most despised having 'raccoon eyes', charles found it endearing. the poor little thing can't help but cry because she knows that he's right. you knew in your gut that you were at least a little cock hungry at all times. he watched you squirm in your seat at times while you let your imagination run wild.

he continued to use you to his liking. you were perfect. trained you from the ground up to be perfect on his cock. he caught glimpses of your face and your red eyes. poor thing, crying to much making a big mess.

so dumb, so small, so stupid.

he took his cock out of your mouth and rubbed it up against your cheek roughly. spit and pre-cum caught across your right eyelashes. his cock pushed your top lip up and he groaned at the sight. your tongue licked a bit of pre-cum that was dangerously close to your face.

"so small, i'm surprised you could take all this. i remember when i couldn't put it in without prepping you. then you spent all season training your cunt for when i got home. now you take me in every way perfectly." he licked his lips, "you know where you belong."

his words excited you as you put your mouth back on his cock. you whimpered as you felt it hit the back of your throat once more. he was big in a way that it made you squirm.

you continued up and down his cock, putting all your brain power (what little you had left) into taking him well. you coughed and panted, air felt in short supply as you got him to the base. your nose in his groomed pubic hair.

a picture perfect beauty, all for charles to devour.

he knew he was close. he could feel it in his bones and in the tension of his muscles. he then tensed up further with his hand in your hair and pulled your mouth off his cock (as much as it pained him to do that). with his other hand he stroked himself off quickly to the sight of your quivering, overheated body. you panted heavily and he finished all over your face. he streaked your skin white with cum up to your forehead. it dripped down your face as you coughed a little.

the debauched sight made him get a few more ropes up cum on your face before he settled down. he pulled your head back to look at you, you could barely have your eyes open. he wished he could take a picture. the white of cum and the mascara mixed tears created a sight that made charles run hot.

"now you look like a slut." he said as he got his jeans off. he rubbed his cock up against your soft lips before he slapped his still hard cock against your face, only making the mess on your cheeks more intense.

"charles." your throat felt raw from it. you looked at him and panted heavily, your tongue stuck out a little bit. and charles knew the night was far over. he fucked you stupid without stimulating your poor pussy. he wanted to see how stupid he could make you.

"we're not done yet." he said.

you tilted your head to the side, almost innocently as if your face wasn't a mess. you asked, "what?" your brain not capturing all the words properly.

he held onto you for a moment and said, "ten seconds to clean up your face. then i want you naked on the bed, or i'll fuck you on the bathroom floor." then let go of you and watched you scramble to clean yourself up. those words stuck in your blissed out brain even though you almost tripped over yourself.

charles chuckled and leaned further back onto the couch, his cock at full attention. even though the mascara was going to be gone, it was okay. you still looked just as pretty with just those tears streaming down your face. <3

[aphroditelovesu]

Yan!Husband Alexander the Great pretty please? 🥹

❝ 📜 — lady l: here! I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: possessive behavior, mention of death and toxic relationships.

❝📜pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader.

Alexander had no thoughts of getting married anytime soon or, according to some sources, getting married at all. The rumors were always varied, some said he didn't want a wife and others went as far as saying he wasn't attracted to women.

This continued for some time until he met you and decided he would take you as his wife. Alexander found himself enchanted by the way you spoke, your smile and the look you had. He knew he would have to become your husband and so he did.

Although his generals were surprised and some even worried about his choice of bride, Alexander was resolute. He fell in love with strength and with an intensity that few could resist, making a point of showing his power and determination.

Alexander's marriage to you was a grand event, worthy of a King who conquered vast territories and accumulated immense power. The ceremony was held with all the pomp and circumstance expected from an event of such magnitude. Alexander wanted the world to know the importance of this union.

The preparation for the wedding was meticulous. From the luxurious costumes, decorated with embroidery and precious stones, to the sumptuous banquet that would be served to the guests. Everything was handpicked to reflect Alexander's greatness and the respect and love he felt for you.

As you exchanged your vows, Alexander spoke with a passion that touched everyone present. He has promised to love, protect, and honor you no matter what adversity may arise. His generals, although still surprised, could not help but feel the impact of that devotion. Any doubts regarding the choice of the bride were put to rest at that moment.

Alexander proved to be a very understanding husband, although authoritarian and possessive. He doesn't like being contradicted and, although he will listen to your opinions and desires, he is unlikely to change his mind when he gets one in his head. But with the right persuasion, he will do what you want.

He will spoil you without scruple, all the best to his Queen. Although, in the beginning at least, Alexander tends to maintain a more spartan style, the same will not apply to you. You will be showered in jewels, the richest fabrics, servants and anything else you could desire. You will have whatever booty you want.

Alexander is extremely possessive and this is very evident in the way he acts around you. He's always close to you when you're together in public, the way he places his hands on your waist, a dark look at anyone who looks at you for too long. He will not tolerate potential rivals in any way.

Quality moments with him are limited to reading, riding horses, bathing together and just exchanging caresses. Alexander, although he won't admit it, enjoys being spoiled by you and will happily accept any kind of affection you are willing to give him. And he will be happy to offer the same. And massages, he loves massaging you.

Alexander is also protective, although not overly so. He will make sure that you always have an escort wherever you go and that you are always fed and happy.

Even if he takes other wives in the future for political reasons, you will always be his favorite and his first. He will always be sure to remind you that you are the one who has his heart.

If anything were to happen to you, no matter how small, all hell would break loose. Alexander can become extremely violent and cruel when necessary and he will have no qualms about killing, maiming, or torturing anyone who poses a threat to you. He will destroy cities for you, kill the men and enslave their inhabitants. All for you.

Alexander's love for you, his wife, has become legendary. He is deeply devoted to you and will do anything you ask. You hold a great deal of power over him, one that he is only too happy to allow. After all, he is as much yours as you are his.

[yes-no-maybe-soo]

Made myself tear up thinking about Girl Dad Sylus. He'd give his little girls the unconditional love he never had growing up, and (hopefully) in the process heal his inner child 🥹

And additionally...

Sylus' kids will be the first people in his life that'll love him from the very start. Everyone else has at some point wanted to hurt, use, or kill him. Or hated his guts/been disgusted by him 💔 (that part in the main story still wrecks me, his expression is so heartrending, you can so plainly see the devastation on his face. I genuinely think he cried afterwards, when he vanished for a bit. And now I am crying too from thinking about it 💔💔)

But his children will not once in their lives view him with fear, or disgust, or ill intent. Instead, they'll look at him with stars in their eyes from the very moment they begin to be aware of and recognize their surroundings.

Like everyone else, their little hearts will start pounding faster at the mere sight or sound of him. However, not out of terror, but elation, and the purest form of love, their short legs toddling towards him as fast as they can, chubby arms eagerly reaching for him. Not to do him harm, but to give and receive affection. A gesture which Sylus will always reciprocate without a second's hesitation, his strong powerful arms enveloping his babies with a gentleness and care that seemingly belies his imposing exterior, but which in reality is representative of who he is and has always been at his core: A warm and kind person who wears his heart on his sleeve, who loves with everything he's got, and whose soul smells like flowers. A man who despite his wealth and power never trampels on the weak, and who although "it may not look like it" is truly "very good at looking after people". Had society bothered to look beyond his appearance and his reputation, it too would have discovered this. Instead, it chose to cast him as a monster more terrifying than a wanderer, and that is the role Sylus has been more or less forced to play ever since, and how he has been viewed for most of his long life, even initially by the people that are now closest to him.

But never by his children. In their eyes, Sylus won't ever be a fiend nor an infamous criminal — Sylus will always be their Protector. Their Hero.

Their Daddy.

And to someone who has forever been labeled as a villain or a demon, these terms will surely be more precious than all the most valuable gems and stones in the Universe put together.

[twopoppies]

hey love, i hope this arrives in one piece and nothing is cut off, as i am not sure anymore how much i can write in a tumblr ask. just to be sure, my message ends with a ":)"

i'm a larrie since 2013, but went on a work-related tumblr break in 2018 (i work in the music industry). i returned to tumblr last week, amidst deep shared grief 💔 to find solace in community. as i tried to cheer myself up by going through my favorite blogs (like yours, it's so wonderful) and trying to catch up -especially about Harry&Louis things that i missed in the last years-, i found the posts really feel like little nuggets of joy and i'm so grateful for that. so i decided i finally want to add to it, now that my industry commitments have downsized significantly. i haven't shared this in almost a decade (never online anyway) and it's not big news or anything, but whenever i remember it, it just makes my heart glow. so, one of my closest work-friends in the industry back in the days (and i'll use neutral pronouns to protect them) did two tours with them in 🦘 in 2013 and 2015. our shared work ethics and also contracts obviously forbade us both from sharing almost all of what was seen or heard (concerning the artists' personal business), but my friend knew i firmly believed Harry and Louis to be together, just closeted (and we both knew this sadly was very common in music or the film industry; meaning mgmt iron-closeting non-straight male artists was completely and automatically still considered The Norm back then, especially with male artists doing these kinds of numbers and having that large of a young fanbase). i never indulged in my reasons or theories, because i felt like i had a professional reputation to uphold and also with me being queer and in the closet as well, it felt too personal to discuss, back then. during the first tour in 2013, we didn't text much, they just said the band was all very friendly and crew was professional, they seemed "like family". the schedule was "brutal". and security constantly needed to be "tightened", due to invasive people trying to steal or replicate tour passes. i didn't ask my friend about Harry and Louis specifically --but admittedly we also weren't that close of friends at that point. during the second tour in 2015, we were though, and only a few days in, they out of the blue texted something that made me smile so wide, i honestly think my cheeks are hurting to this day. :D i quote: "hey so those two louis and h. can't tell you more but you weren't wrong!!!" i replied with ":DDDDDDD" (honestly felt like sending a million heart emojis instead) and about an hour later they sent "every here knows too!!!" and a correction: "everyone" and to this day, almost 10 years later, I keep these imessages saved, because it made me so happy. and i hope that sharing my time-capsuled precious memory will make someone else happy, too. their love is truly something so special. oh, and one of the two was really unlucky at the pokies (slot machines) and quite a sore loser, haha. I always guessed it was Louis, but I don't know. :)

🥹 Oh, we really needed some happiness around here. Bless you for sharing this.

Also, I tend to agree with you that it was Louis on the slot machines. LMAO!

[usahanamnesia]

gifts ᯓᡣ𐭩

pairing: myung jaehyun x reader synopsis: you celebrate jaehyun's birthday by having drinks with friends and at the end of the day you're finally left alone with him to give him his final birthday present. genre: smut content: drunk birthday sex, fem bodied reader, sub!jaehyun x dom!reader, also masochist!jaehyun x sadist!reader if we're being real here, usage of 'mommy' as a nickname for reader, puppy / baby boy pet names for jaehyun, edging, oral / handjob, riding, dacryphilia, slight overstimulation, no condom usage, semi-clothed sex word count: 3.8k a/n: I'm a little late so happy belated birthday 🎂 to jaehyun! 🥹 I hope he had a good one!!

it was the 4th of december, your precious boyfriend's birthday. you waited all day to finally get some alone time with him, after work you and the boys threw a little mini-party for him in your apartment.

and so, now you were here with jaehyun alone since the others already left, leaving the mess up to you to clean up later. although sungho would have probably been more than happy to help clean up, you wanted alone time with the birthday boy. jaehyun was laying in your bed as you greeted the very last person goodbye. you and the others don't get to drink much, so in the few times you do get to, you tend to over-do it a bit. although you could handle alcohol heaps better than your boyfriend.

you stood beside the bed, hovering over jaehyun as he scrolled on his phone. "so birthday boy, are you going to help me clean this mess up?" you asked, completely joking with your hands on your hips.

"but i'm too tired. i woke up so early for schedules and then I came straight here and it took forever to leave and I just wanted to be with you but I was also having fun so I wasn't going to tell everyone to leave," his drunken state left him rambling and pouty, "plus I want to just stay here and cuddle with you." he reached out his arms for you as an invitation to join him in bed, which you happily accepted. you crawled into bed and cuddled up against his chest.

the world felt a little dizzying to him right now and although he wasn't recognizing how much he would repeat the fact that he just wanted to lay down and be with you, that's truly how he felt and all he could think about. once you were in his arms he started getting all handsy, running his hand down your back and leading them to your ass and the other up your back. he was always so touchy but even moreso when drunk. he couldn't help it, he always claimed. you never minded though, as long as it was jaehyun you'd be fine with him touching you however he'd like.

"you can't possibly be tired though..," you looked up at him and started combing through his hair with your fingers. you hoped he'd be able to fight his exhaustion for what you had planned.

"whyyy not?" his drunken self consisted of drawn our words and a pouty voice. you truly could never get over how cute he was at any given moment.

"because I still need to give you your present," you spoke softly. he tilted his head at this statement, which made you giggle a little. he truly couldn't help being so puppy-like.

"then what was that present you gave me earlier?" as he spoke, his hands found their way under your shirt, playing with the hem of your bra. you swore he would unclasp it at any moment, he always wanted you braless. he was always so eager to touch your bare skin even if he couldn't go farther than that.

"that was just part one. you can cuddle with me afterwards."

"what's part two thennn?" he pouted, growing more impatient each second the longer he waited for an answer.

you start straddling his lap, leaning forward to sprinkle little pecks on his lips which started leading to proper kisses. he tasted like beer, which you usually hated but right now all you could think about was how much you had been wanting this. him working all the time and living with others gave you two such little time to have special moments like this.

"are you too tired for this part of your present?" you started unbuttoning your shirt, exposing yourself in only your bra with your skirt and your thigh high socks still on, "or am I not making it obvious enough at this point?" he smirked, his feelings were so much more easier to read when he was drunk, even when you thought that couldn't be possible. he was so eager.

truthfully, he had been hoping for this all day, moments with you alone were much more special to him when you guys were having sex but he never wanted you to feel pressured to. in reality you actually would love nothing more than to spend hours making him cum over and over again, as long as he's euphoric in the palm of your hands there's nothing else you'd rather do.

"noo.. I get it.. but I might be a little tired to do much," he teased although you could see the excitement grow within him, blushing and all. you knew he could never deny you, especially when he was so needy for you even when he wasn't drunk. he started letting his hands roam up your torso, fingers fiddling with the hem of your bra excited with the thought of what's underneath.

"that's fine then. I can take care of you, puppy." he seems a little shy and taken aback by the nickname, you felt him growing slightly hard at the statement.

as soon as you lean back into him to kiss, he indulges himself right away as much as he can. a kiss turns into full-out making out. it doesn't get much to rile up jaehyun, and he was already as hard as he could get.

he unhooks your bra and starts groping your breasts as he's kissing you. jaehyun really could never stop touching and letting his hands roam around your body. he adores your body so badly that it makes you shy. if it were up to him right now he'd be in-between your thighs right now, giving your thighs hickies and licking your cunt like it'd be the last thing he'd ever taste. but it was his birthday and you wanted to make him feel on cloud nine right now. you were sure that after today he'd want to return the favor when your birthday rolls around anyway.

in-between all the breathless kissing and small moans already leaving his mouth you grind down on his hard cock although his pants make the friction a little less satisfying. he still moans nonetheless, clearly wanting and needing you more and more.

"should we get these off of you, baby boy?" you breathe out as you tug on his pants. you drag your hand lower, teasing him slightly. all he can do is whine and nod. your heart swells, he's so adorable when he's like this. so needy and desperate that he finds it hard to speak, letting you do whatever you want with him. and yet, you still feel like torturing him.

"use your words," you continue to graze your hand over his bulge which caused him to jerk his hips up slightly.

"yes, m-mommy," you could see his eyes tear up a little, frustrated at the demand.

"yes what?"

"yes... please, mommy," he couldn't help but grind up a little against your hand. he loved the way your hand felt on his cock, even through layers of clothing.

you help him take off his pants and even his shirt, leaving him in his boxers. he was so fit and pretty, you felt so lucky that you have such a sweet and good-looking boyfriend. his puppy dog eyes looking up at you expectedly, his very pouty and oh so kissable lips, his skin that looked so smooth and ready for your touch, his stomach that was slightly toned and his cock that was already hard for you. every little bit of him made you want him more and more.

you start kissing his neck, even sucking a little here and there, intending to leave marks. usually he'd protest, always getting shy at the thought of people seeing hickies but he's already enjoying himself so much that he doesn't even think much of it right now. lick — suck. you pay special attention to his exposed collarbones, aiming to make him as sensitive as possible. lick — suck. you wanted everyone to know how good he spent his birthday. lick — suck.

you started to place small little kisses down his chest. his quickened breathing was so calming. he was completely at your mercy and you loved every bit of it.

when you get down to his nipples, you circle your tongue around them before sucking them off with a pop. his breath would hitch and his body would jerk slightly. they were one of his more extra sensitive spots. you continued trailing small kisses down his stomach after teasing his nipples for a bit longer.

when you reached down to his underwear, you lick his hard cock through his boxers. pre-cum leaked through them and jaehyun moaned a little, he was left already feeling so sensitive. he swore he could cum any second already but he wanted this to never end, so he was holding out as much as he could.

"I love how you're already so hard for me, my puppy," you lean in to kiss the tip. "always so good and ready for me." his breath shakes and he whines, feeling a mixture of impatience and pleasure.

you take off his boxers, exposing his dick and the cold air makes his breath hitch. you inch your lips to the tip of his cock.

"w-wait-" he says before your lips could make contact, "I want to cum in you."

"you'll get that if you can hold on long enough, do you think you can do that for me baby boy?" you wrap your hand around his cock, slowly stroking his shaft. his legs twitch, his brain getting mixed signals from being touched while also being told to hold back.

"I'll try-y" he says with an airy voice, clearly already struggling to keep it together.

you started by licking the base of his cock first. it felt so familiar in your mouth. the moans he had been holding in before started to spill out, pieces of "fuck" mixed in-between them. he reached out to hold onto your hair as you went down on him, fingers clumsily trying to clump together your hair together to grip onto properly. you swatted his hand away and pulled back. the sight of mix of saliva and pre-cum momentarily hanging off your lips before you wiped it off turned jaehyun on a little more if that was even possible at this point.

"not today, myungjae," you said before swallowing his cock again little by little, leaving no room for protest as you continued. jaehyun, a little confused, obliged nonetheless. if there was anything he knew how to do, it was to listen to you. he opted for holding onto the bedsheets, the pleasure being too good for him he felt like he was losing his mind.

"i-i'm gonna cu-um," jaehyun stuttered out, which made you pop off. all he could do was whine in protest, feeling frustrated from being suddenly pulled away from release.

you wrapped your hand around his dick and started stroking. jaehyun swore he was going to die from the way he knew you were going to do this to him and he knew better than to protest. he looked down at you, stroking his cock with your pretty hands and he has no idea how he had lasted this long. he's gotten off to pictures of regular photos of you, clothes and pure-looking, so not being able to cum at the sight of you stroking him while topless definitely has him frustrated more than ever at the moment.

every little stroke he became greedier, even resorting to lifting his hips and fucking himself into your hand. you resorted to sitting on his thighs in order to keep them down, which led to jaehyun's moans leading into whiney territory once more. he still wanted to cum in you, but right now all his horny brain could think of currently was the release he was chasing so badly the moment you two were left alone.

he grabbed your thighs and pulled you a little closer, making you yelp a little since his move was so unexpected. his hands gripped on them, he always needed something to hold onto when he was holding back. even if you weren't planning on getting your skirt dirty with his cum before, they definitely were now. it was definitely on purpose on his end though, jaehyun loved the sight of his cum on you, clothed or not.

it was a little masochistic on his end, the way he kept getting turned on by the smallest things but he couldn't help how any little thing could get him riled up once his dick starts getting slightly hard.

you had him right where you wanted him. the more control you had over him, the better. although him being underneath you moaning with that heavenly voice of his was more than enough to get you wet and wanting you knew this would pay off when he would finally cum. all you ever wanted to do was to make your boyfriend feel good, nothing could make you as happy as jaehyun did when he was melting in your hands.

you quickened your strokes little by little. sometimes he felt so good that he would shut his eyes and throw his head back, out of shyness or by being overwhelmed by pleasure you weren't sure but either way he looked absolutely adorable in this position.

as his release seemed close once again, he felt like he was smart enough to not say anything this time but you were smarter than that. you slowed your pace until you stopped, leaving jaehyun extremely frustrated. you knew his body better than he did at this point. you knew his breaking points and how much he could handle. you were definitely not ready not letting him have it yet. you started stroking him a few moments later, very painfully slow and carefully enough to make sure he doesn't orgasm yet.

"mommy, please," jaehyun whined. he was tearing up at this point. truthfully he thought you'd be more merciful on him than usual on his birthday of all days.

"please what, puppy?" you ask, still concentrating at the task at hand. you quickened your pace a little, wanting his next sentence to come out as pathetically as possible since you had an inkling of a feeling as to what he would say next.

"ple-ease... ngh... lemme... hngh... cu-um," jaehyun managed to string out words in-between his mixture of tears and moans. it was a sight you think you would never be able to get over in your lifetime. your pretty birthday boy, being held down, writhing and asking to cum. it was such a prideful moment for you and you couldn't get enough of it.

"beg for it, myungjae," you whispered as you slowed your strokes once again. jaehyun whined once more, which made you grin a little but it definitely just made him a little more frustrated. tears formed in his eyes as he looked at you once again. you cooed and caressed his cheek with your other hand.

"please please please," jaehyun whined in-between his moans. his eyebrows were furrowed and his jaw was slacked. "please let me cum, mommy."

it was a sentence that made you want to squeeze your legs together. you stopped stroking him leading to small cries coming out of him, you shh'ed him softly.

"you wanted to cum in me didn't you, puppy?" you asked and he quickly nodded, being unable to do more than moan and whine at the moment. he was so exhausted from the day then being played with for what felt like an eternity. you wish you had him all to yourself everyday, all the time just so you could hear his pretty cries all day. "then you'll do just that."

you wiped his tears and shifted yourself to be in a comfortable position. you moved your wet panties to the side, opting to keep them on as you were too impatient to get the rest of your clothes off at this point, especially your cum-stained skirt. you slowly lowered yourself onto his cock, moans coming out from you this time as well. it made your eyes roll back a little. you had been so focused on him the whole time, that you forgot how heavenly having his dick inside you would feel.

meanwhile, jaehyun was feeling so fucked out at this point he could barely keep it together. he had let out a stuttered "fu-uh-uck" as you had lowered yourself onto him. you moved up and down his cock, reveling in the way jaehyun's a sobbing mess by now. he held onto your waist, attempting to guide you but he's way too fucked out at this point to properly do anything but basically whimper and move his hips at this point.

you couldn't help the way your moans deepened, his dick felt so good and his grip was so strong it hurt. you're sure it'll leave bruises but you don't mind. he's so pathetic and pretty in this state, for a moment you were convinced you'd reach your high before him somehow with the way he was turning you on.

it didn't take him very long before he finally came undone. his moans had been so loud you were convinced you'd get a noise complaint. towards the end his moans were mixed in with a bunch of "fuck"s, "oh my God"s and you swore you heard an "I love you" thrown in there which was very adorable to you. he was always the type to get emotional and affectionate during release, it was one of your favorite things about him orgasming other than seeing a pretty boy cry. his face was so mesmerizing as he came, he looked so euphoric and at peace at least. he was hot and sweaty and he had tried his best to keep eye contact although it was hard for him to when the orgasm felt so good.

you continued bouncing on his dick as he filled you up with his cum, which in turn made your walls clench continously and helped drain him out more. it felt so good and dirty.

even after he was all emptied out, you continued to rock your hips back and forth. his cock was sensitive inside you and so he kept moaning softly, his body was slightly twitching from too much pleasure. you leaned in to kiss him, trying to reassure him through your moans that it'll be over soon.

"you did so good, pu-uppy," you moaned out.

he nodded and whimpered, "thank you, m-mommy."

you continued to chase your high and jaehyun attempted to help, but his drunken post-orgasm self struggled to do much for a while. he reached for your clit, trying to stimulate it but you ended up holding his hand in place and grinding against it.

somehow within the processes of trying to orgasm, jaehyun started to harden inside you again which definitely helped. having his dick inside you, hitting your g-spot while also having him touch your clit did wonders especially when you thought about the fact that his cum was still inside you.

when you finally orgasmed, your legs started shaking and your walls started clenching again in the process. it made jaehyun who was both sensitive and hard again moan very loudly once again. you leaned forwards, exhausted and satisfied. he wrapped his arms around you and thrust upwards into you a bit, overwhelming you a bit but managed to stop. you rolled over to your side to cuddle with his dick still in you, not wanting any of his cum to spill out of you.

"I want more," jaehyun pouted.

"mmh... do you think you can do this last part on your own, puppy?" you spoke softly, you wanted to satisfy him all on your own but you knew he wouldn't give you time to recover. even when jaehyun is tired and drunk you knew he'd muster up just enough energy to fuck himself into you so he could feel some satisfaction all over again.

"yes mommy," he quickly responded, not giving you much time to even think before he started chasing his own high once again. he shifted his body so that he was slightly on top of you and started rutting against you. he was sloppy and non-rhythmic, his drunken self moving up against you not caring for anything but his own pleasure. he lifted your thighs up and spread them slightly, wanting to go as deep as he could.

although you were the one who was always in control, he admittingly had more strength than you. you couldn't escape this situation even if you wanted to, a thought that excited you a little. him hitting your already sensitive spot hurt a little, which you throughly enjoyed as he kept thrusting in and out of you. he sloppily kissed you, all that could be heard in the room was the noise of skin slapping and his moans as he clashed his tongue against yours. again, you felt so good and dirty. you felt so used at the moment, doing nothing but taking in his cock and moaning softly as he kissed you.

as soon as he pulled back you knew he was going to orgasm once again, he filled you up with his cum once again. you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist and he let you, satisfied and tired out. his body gave out against yours. you let out small moans as you he thrust the last bits of his cum inside you. despite him still being inside you, you could feel his seed seep out of you. again, dirty, and there would be nothing you could or wanted to do about the sticky mess until morning (or even later if we're being honest).

for a few minutes, you laid there silently stroking the back of his head. you were convinced he had fallen asleep for a second, with his drunken breath against your neck. he had been so loud throughout the whole thing you forgot what silence felt like. that was until he hummed and softly kissed your neck.

"did you enjoy your last present, puppy?" you asked softly. he looked up at you nodded. you smiled a little, it's incredible how someone can seem do adorable before, during and after sex. he shifted himself off of you, you guys laid side by side with his cock still in you once again. he tried to get it out but you insisted on it staying in.

"you better give me it again next year," he slurred his words, his voice was deeper and raspier than usual. he was fighting sleep and it was noticeable.

"of course baby boy," you pecked his lips, "and every year after as well. now go to sleep."

"I love you."

"I love you too, myungjae. happy birthday."

© usahanamnesia

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Eyes on the mirror - part 2.

Pairing: neighbor!Frankie Morales x f!reader Rating: +18, NSFW Words count: 3814 Summary: Dinner at Frankie's mom's is a disaster, she doesn't like you at all but her son doesn't fail to show you how much he likes you instead. Tags/Warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, reader wears a dress and heels, she has hair but it's not described, no mention of her skin tone, she doesn't blush, she understands Spanish (but I didn't write sentences in Spanish because I don't know how to do it and I don't want to do it badly when I'm already writing in a language that is not my native), Frankie's mom is pretty conservative, traditionalist and closed-minded and she's mean towards reader, unprotected p in v (do better irl, please), sex in front of a mirror, oral (m receiving), Frankie is a good man ❤︎ and we love that for him. A/N: It's an emotional work, it's smut, but it's smut with feelings and I think I put a lot of myself into it. So I ask you to be especially delicate. This Frankie is the same guy from You look like a fun place to sit and Give me more. Thanks again @aurorawritestoescape and @arcanefox207 for your precious help and advices ❤️ I made a few changes from the first draft, English is not my first language, any mistake is still on me, so if you come across one I’m very sorry. @joelmillerisapunk just 🥹🥹🥹💖 Part 1 ⎮ Frankie Masterlist ⎮ Masterlist

Frankie's mom has the same eyes as her son, brown, big and deep, but there is a sharpness in them that does not belong to Frankie's. 

She has a simple, well-groomed appearance, wearing a white tunic dress that comes down to her knee, her hands are slightly cracked but her manicured nails are painted a pearly pink. 

She is a short, thin woman with the haughty, imperious appearance of someone who doesn’t let anyone step on her toes, a woman ready to bargain, to work hard, to take care of an entire household without anyone's help.

She's a tough lady and you're pretty sure she hates your guts.

 She addresses you rather nicely but you can tell something is wrong.

Her tone of voice sounds mocking and she's constantly whispering things to Frankie in Spanish that you don't hear well but you're pretty sure aren't anything nice.

“So what do you do, dear?” she asks you with a forced smile, sitting at the head of the table as she has arranged you and Frankie facing each other.

“I…um…work in a graphic design studio,” you mutter.

Frankie quickly adds, “She's so good at her job!” 

The way he’s trying to enhance your skills since you arrived moves you, but his mom doesn’t seem impressed.

Mrs Morales is intimidating, staring at you like she’s trying to catch every single flaw you have.

You can't even use your usual sarcasm because she would surely think you were insolent and certainly not right for his son.

“Have you done anything that I might have seen? Any national commercials?” she prods.

“Um, I don't think so, we're a pretty small studio at the moment, we've mostly worked on graphics for local stores and websites for professionals here, you know.” 

“Oh.” She raises her eyebrow. ”I see.”

Trying to compliment her, you say the food is delicious, the best you've ever eaten, and she reserves a cold “thank you”

Then she presses you again, “Can you cook?”

You lower your gaze to your plate and admit, “no, actually, I'm not very good at cooking.” 

“What do you usually eat?” she asks suspiciously. 

"Um...well...I can cook pasta and eggs..." you try to say and she looks at you in shock as if you just said donkeys can fly.

“Mom, please” Frankie tries to calm her down and she hisses at him “she will starve you!”

He hisses in turn “I am not perished! And she’s adorable, she’s smart, kind, funny and beautiful”

You feel Frankie's sorry look comforting you from across the table, he's doing what he can and you are truly grateful, but right now there’s nothing that can make you feel happy to be here.

You don't want to fight with her because you love Frankie and you know he loves his mother, you don't want to lose him because of scowling at her.

You see her giggling and shaking her head and you feel like crying but you don't, you don't want her to add ‘pathetic’ as one of your flaws.

She turns to Frankie and says something like, “How can you be with someone like that?” in Spanish. 

Frankie leans over the table and reprimands her, “Mom, stop it.”

She responds irritated in Spanish, “why? She is no good at cooking, and that job? Tsk, you don't want to marry her, do you?”

Frankie rolls his eyes and hisses, “Mom!”

You understand Spanish just fine but all this whispering is putting a strain on you, you just want her to see how much you care about Frankie and for her to like something about you. 

Even the dress didn't have the effect you had hoped for, she looked down on you even though her son had chosen it.

You brought her flowers and a cake to be nice and she huffed about the flowers because she would have to find a suitable vase to put them in and as for the cake, you bought it, so obviously it’s another proof of your failures in the culinary field.

She waves her hand at Frankie to shush him and turns back to you.

“Do you want anything else, sweetheart?” nodding at the serving dishes in the center of the table with another fake smile. 

Your stomach churns and you respond politely that you are full.

She turns back to Frankie, squinting her eyes, "she won't even eat! how is she going to give me grandchildren?!”

You look at your hands resting on your lap, feeling lousy and tired. 

Frankie must see this clearly because he finally blurts out, “Mom, if you don't stop now, we're leaving! She has done nothing wrong to you to be treated like this”

Mrs. Morales brings a hand to her chest, a shocked grimace is painted on her face. 

 “How dare you address your mother like that! I'm just trying to protect you, she's clearly not good for you!” She no longer even bothers to say it whispering in Spanish so that you wouldn't understand, in fact you think she said it loud and in English precisely so that her disappointment would be clear to you. 

You get up while they are still busy arguing and lock yourself in the bathroom. 

You knew this evening would be a disaster, but you hoped so hard that you were wrong. 

You’re glad Frankie stood up for you but you never wanted him to fight with his mother because of you. 

You hear their angry voices in the distance as they continue to argue and you feel so guilty.

You sit on the floor on the turquoise tiles in Mrs. Morales' bathroom, thinking only about how much you want to get out of here.

After a few minutes you hear a knock on the door. 

 “Honey, open up, it's me” You get up and reluctantly open the door.

“Hey, come here” Frankie says to you as soon as he sees your eyes on to the brink of tears.

He closes the door behind him and takes you in his arms, holding you tightly. 

You hide your face in his chest, letting the soothing warmth of his body envelop you. 

He strokes your back and whispers, “I'm so sorry, you don't deserve any of this.”

“I wanted her to like me so much,” you sob. 

“I know, honey, it's not your fault. She is fixated on things I don't care about. But you don't have to worry, everything will be fine.”

You pull away from him “I don't want you to fight over me”

"She can’t treat you like that, I'm the one who wants to be with you, and I like you the way you are.”

“Yeah, but…it’s still your mum,” you murmur.

“I gave her a little speech, don’t worry, you’ll be fine now,” 

Frankie smiles, leaving a kiss on your forehead and caressing your cheek, wiping away your tears. “Don’t cry.”

“What did you say to her? You didn't threaten her not to visit again, did you?” you ask worriedly. His eyes become a little shy, he’s quiet for a moment and then whispers to you, “no, I didn't tell her that.” 

“What then?” his enigmatic expression that doesn't let anything out intrigues and agitates you. 

He looks straight into your eyes and candidly admits, "I told her that I love you." 

You've felt it in the air for some time but now that you've heard it come out of his mouth, plain and simple, you are stunned. 

“Do you mean it?” You ask in a low shaking voice, looking into his big brown eyes for evidence of his sincerity. 

"I've never been so serious, miss," he smiles at you, expectantly. 

And then you feel you can say it, no matter how scary it is for you, “I love you too.” 

It doesn't seem real to you that you have just made yourself so vulnerable in front of him, your neighbor who until a few months ago was bothering you while now you feel you have a total and deep connection with him, no matter how much you poke and bicker at each other, your heart sings every time you are with him and you feel it loud and clear in your chest as it skips a beat every time Frankie looks at you a certain way, smiling with his eyes, with those little wrinkles around them and that dimple on his cheek that you adore. 

You love the way he mumbles in the morning as soon as he wakes up, the way he stretches under the covers and then again as soon as he gets up, his golden skin under the morning light, his playfully mischievous eyes that settle on you while you're still lying down trying to wake up, the way he always leans down to give you a kiss, whispering, “Good morning, princess.”

You also love how he keeps that silly little cap glued to his head at every opportunity.

You like kissing him and feeling his lips tasting like coffee, you like the way he hugs you as if he wants to shield you with his body and protect you from the world, you like the way his eyes become attentive and receptive when they rest on you and the way he listens to you, remaining silent and caressing your hand as if to invite you to tell him anything that is on your mind. 

You love how loyal he is to his friends, how he takes care of people, you love when he tries to make you breakfast even though he leaves a mess in your kitchen as if a barbarian invasion passed through.

And you love him now, standing in his mother's bathroom, hugging you as if only you existed in the world. 

“I love you,” you repeat and he looks at your face as if he wants to study the map of how much you truly care about him on it.

His hands slide down your back to your butt and he pushes you hard against him without breaking eye contact. 

His eyes are dark, his pupils dilated, he squeezes your butt tightly and then kisses you. 

You know exactly what he wants and you whisper into his mouth as soon as you break away from the passionate, deep kiss in which he engulfed you, “Not here, come on, take me home.”

He turns to the door and locks it still holding you close. 

“Let it go, baby, it’s okay” he replies and winks at you.

Feeling so desired by him is a real relief after feeling stupid and unfitting all night.

He turns you to the large mirror above the sink, leans to your ear and whispers, “Look at yourself.”

His hands move up your back, reach for the zipper of your dress, and begin to pull it down.

You look at him and he rebukes you, “eyes on the mirror, honey. Watch yourself while I do it.”

He slides off your dress breathing on your skin while you keep your eyes fixed on the mirror. 

You remain in your bra and panties. 

He brushes against your skin, rising on your arms only with his fingertips, climbing up your shoulders, your collarbone, the point where your shoulders and your neck meet and up to the column of your neck until he reaches your jaw. He tilts your head a bit and holds your chin to make sure you’re going to watch the entire time.

He holds you so that you can lean against him, and with his other hand he reaches down to your stomach, touching the hem of your panties.

You sigh happily as he slides two fingers under the fabric and caresses your folds, slides down the sides to the bottom and pushes upward. 

You moan softly, “Frankie, please” 

“Don’t be impatient, babe” he reprimands.

He curls your panties between his fingers and starts brushing them over your folds, you whine at the sensation as he tilts your head down a little bit to make sure you’re seeing what he’s doing. However you would not be able to watch anything but his movements. Right, left, right, left Frankie's fingers expertly maneuver the fabric over your pussy.

Your inhibitions are long gone, everything is faded and far away. 

There is only you and Frankie.

He suddenly lets go of your panties and massages you over them, soaking the material in your juices. You’re so wet that it doesn’t take much for his fingers to get wet too. 

Your breath becomes shallow as his hand slithers under the fabric and he begins circling your clit.

You can already feel your legs going weak so you raise your arm and place your hand behind his neck to keep yourself more stable against him. 

“Yeah, just like that honey. You want me to make you feel real good, huh?” Frankie’s voice vibrates against your neck and you mewl a yes feeling your body mold for him. 

Your eyes are fixed on the mirror.

You see your hot and bothered face, your lips parted, your pleading eyes and your body impossibly tense against him. 

It’s all painted there, the amount of desire and hunger that you have for him, a grimace of lust and need spread out on your features. 

“Fuck me,” you babble.

“Yeah? You want my big cock inside, baby? Want me to fill you to the brim?” Frankie’s smirk is wide on his face, you see his eyes focused on you, and his commanding tone sends shivers down your spine as he doesn’t stop rubbing on your clit. 

“Yes” you breathe “please”

Your legs wobble as you try to stand on your feet while he undresses. 

His shirt falls on his mother’s bathroom tiles, he unbuckles his belt and places it on the countertop, he kicks off his boots, unbuttons his jeans and slides them down his legs, stamping on them to get them off his feet.

Through the mirror you see him standing behind you, wearing only his boxers, the muscles of his chest highlighted by the lights, his soft belly just above his boxers that makes your mouth water, the happy trail that goes to hide inside, his strong thighs and the imperious erection that grows between them.

 It's a perfect picture of everything that makes your head spin.

“On your knees, baby, I want to feel your mouth first,” he orders you. 

You immediately kneel, feeling your heart flutter in your chest, the coolness of the tiles on your shins, and his simmering gaze dominating you from above.

You caress his hips, pulling down his boxers, and taking them off, and his cock finally springs free and almost smacks your face towering before your eyes. 

You take him in your hand, feeling that familiar warmth, the softness of his skin, the pulsing of his veins, as he leaks pre cum within an inch of your lips.

As soon as it slips on your tongue you feel a new slick of arousal dripping on your panties.

You lace your gaze with his, your open mouth curved at the edges in a smirk as you let him in, you love doing this to him. 

You usually take in as much as you can while taking care of the rest with your hand but tonight you want to feel it all the way down, so you relax your throat as much as you can and keep sliding it until you feel the tip touch the bottom. 

You have a slight hint of a gag reflex that you manage to quell right away and you keep him there, nestled inside you, pulsing on your tongue as he looks at you raptly and whispers, “God, you're amazing.”

And then you begin to suck him, slowly, enjoying every moan and every involuntary twitch of his hips, cocooning him with your tongue.

You’re fully immersed in the act, intent on giving him all the lustful pleasure you can, licking his tip like a lollipop, swirling your tongue around and collecting his oozing pre cum.

And then you go down again, spreading it on his shaft, mixing it with your saliva, hollowing your cheeks to suck him as deep as you can.

Frankie is whimpering and you know how much he’s close to the edge.

Your hand caresses his base, then you move it to his balls, with every intention of getting him to finish in your mouth and swallow everything he gives you but he grabs your wrist, stopping you.

You let him out with a pop, passing the tip over your lips and smacking it against them twice, wetting them with his pleasure.

You give him a mock pout for stopping you but the truth is you can't wait to feel him split you in two. 

He smiles at you, taking your hand and helping you up, you give him a kiss with your mouth still smeared with him. 

He turns you back towards the mirror and gently orders, “bend over the sink”

He slides your panties down your legs, exposing your drenched pussy, bending down to admire it, “So fucking wet…it’s all for me, baby?”

“Just for you, always,” you turn to look at him and see him leaning behind you as he reaches down and licks your folds, a long deep lick that makes you gasp.

“So good, honey, I would never get tired of this perfect pussy.” His voice vibrates on your skin sending a thrill all over your body.  “It’s the only part of you that I like to see weep for me” 

His rough voice charged with ardor and his words send you into a frenzy.

He comes back to stand behind you and looks at you in the mirror, resting his large hands on your hips, “You are so fucking beautiful like this.”

You feel his cock rub against your folds, and you throb intensely overwhelmed by your craving, you mewl at him and he finally aligns with your entrance and starts to push in. 

You slowly stretch around him, he groans as he slides into you, every inch of his length parting your walls.

His hands still clasp your hips, holding you steady as he gives you a moment to adjust. 

You're full of him and you wouldn't want to be any other way.

Frankie holds you firmly as he sinks into you, slowly at first and then increasing the pace as your moans grow rougher and closer, his balls slamming against your ass in a feverish rush.

“Fuck, baby, you’re squeezing my cock so hard.”

He pulls you toward him, his fingers reaching for your nipples, tweaking and tugging.

You can't help but look in the mirror now and what you see is the most exciting sight you've ever had before your eyes.

Your body is completely surrendered to him, your skin glistening with tiny droplets of sweat, your hair disheveled, your expression ecstatic, Frankie's hands firmly clinging to your hips as the wet, squelching sounds of his cock pounding incessantly in your cunt fill the room along with your moans and Frankie's groans.

And Frankie is literally a dream, his broad figure towering over you, his mouth roaming your neck, his hands enveloping your tits, squeezing them so right. 

He’s completely lost in you, his eyes half-closed, his tongue darting out from time to time soothing your sweaty skin. 

Now you know that you have never experienced such strong feelings in your life. 

You thought so, but you were wrong. 

It’s not the usual cliché of feeling complete with someone else, you are already a whole. 

It’s the fact of knowing that you can share with him, that you do not have to be afraid to be who you are with him. It is the fact that he knows how to understand the workings of your brain and unravel the skein that tangles it. It is the fact that you can feel that there is nothing you cannot face together. It is the fact of feeling seen, perceived for who you really are and held close for it.

It's knowing that wherever you run, Frankie will pick up the crumbs you leave on the road and bring them back to you.

And you had no idea that it could really be like this.

You always thought, it's only 4 months, don't push it when in the meantime he proceeded to tiptoe into your heart without even being noticed and sat there, waiting for both of you to be ready to say the most terrifying words out loud. 

Not "I need you" but "I'm so damn happy you're here", not "you're mine" but "I love holding your hand as I navigate my life.”

Not by owning, but by letting you do your own thing while you look at each other and think, “this is the person I love and I am proud of them.”

You're just out there being the most fragile human sometimes but you're never afraid to break down next to him.

Frankie comes, dripping onto your walls, his orgasm and whimpers shuddering against your body.

He wraps one of his big, strong arms around your hips and holds you up against him.

And you're safe, really safe, being vulnerable in front of a mirror, watching yourself come apart for him, feeling every inch of your body catching fire while Frankie is the match and the water at the same time. 

He holds you tight until you both recover normal breathing, still nestled inside you. 

He pulls out and embraces you, leaving small kisses on the soft skin near your ear, his large hands caressing your back. 

“I love you so much” he whispers once you make eye contact again.

“I love you too, Morales” you smile, tracing his cheek with your fingertips.

You both get dressed and leave the bathroom. 

You walk down the hallway leading to the living area as you wonder how much his mother heard. You cannot even quantify how long you were locked in the bathroom but it was worth every second. 

You find her in the living room, watching TV with the volume on full blast.

Frankie approaches his mother, without saying anything, rests his hand on hers while she has her eyes fixed on the telenovela you watched with your granny. 

“Do you think Javier will finally be able to confess his feelings to Lola?” you ask quietly. 

She turns, just for a moment, and finally gives you a genuine smile.

For the first time you feel that maybe, after all, despite the way you and her son just desecrated her bathroom, all is not lost. 

general tag list: @baronessvonglitter , @milla-frenchy , @almostempty , @harriedandharassed , @thundermartini If you want to be added or removed just let me know, thank you so much for reading!

Archive tag: @pedrostories ♥️

[transformers-spike]

AH IM SO SORRY. TY FOR LETTING ME KNOW THO, IM THE ONE THAT ASKED FOR THE TFP MEG X CYBERTRONIAN😭🙏

BUT YES IM FINE WITH OMEGAVERSE HUMAN HEAT CYCLE OR WTV ITS CALLED. TY🥹💕💕💕

No prob fam, I had fun making this because holy fuck I haven't been able to write anything wholesome with TFP Megatron in a long time.

You are a precious thing, gazing up at him with naive trust. What started off as a temporary experiment has turned into a unique pet project. Useless to the Decepticon cause, yet irreplaceable to him. You quietly sit in his lap during meetings, arching your back to meet the digit petting your helm as his commanders avert their optics from your tiny frame. The presence of his beloved pet on the Nemesis is disquieting to his troops, and he delights in their discomfort, savoring the jitters of their EM fields whenever they catch sight of you. Recently however, the soft pulse of unease has turned into a low but intrusive buzzing. The sweet smell of your arousal is unlike anything he’s ever experienced. In two meager cycles you've become a quivering mess, loins begging for friction. There's no denying it, you've reached your reproductive cycle. When he brushes a digit over your cheek, you're burning with desire, sheepishly avoiding his gaze as you struggle to contain your eagerness and avoid rubbing up against his servo.

Is this why the Autobots are fond of humanity? To indulge their sweet heat cycles? How many human mates has Optimus taken for himself? It seems as though their motives to protect the natives were never altruistic, much less noble.

When he strokes the wetness between your legs, you buck into him, euphoria carved into your soft features. He entertains your instincts, holds you down and frags you with a digit until you overload. The sounds you make are to offline for. He decides at that very moment you are worth the energon he's about to waste.

Mass displacement has seen its uses during the war, but the drawbacks among a shortening supply of energon has rendered it volatile and thoughtlessly wasteful. Yet, under these circumstances it proves more than necessary.

You are no Cybertronian, but the softness of your flesh renders your differences obsolete. The transfluid welcoming his spike sends a wave of charge down his spinal struts. You grip his servo, desperate for more than you can take.

“Eager for my spike, pet?” he purrs as he nuzzles your neck.

Your scent is endurable for his species, but he cannot deny its intoxicating properties. How many other humans have you mated with? He cannot imagine anyone resisting the sweetness of your loins. Your entrance struggles to take a spike of his size, and yet it swallows him with an eagerness he cannot bear to lose. It makes his spark radiate with pride.

The adoration in your optics sends a new jolt of charge to his member. You cup his face in your servos and kiss him harshly, scrambling to satisfy your all-consuming hunger, his sharp denta dangerously close to your lips.

He frags you slow and steady, savoring the noises you make as you desperately cling onto his frame, digits finding seams in his plating and burying themselves in the soft mesh of his protoform. A hiss loosens from his vocalizer, optics narrowing as the charge breaches his limits It takes all the entirety of his self-control to stop himself from destroying your poor human interface. Still, he frags you like never before, hard and fast, slamming his hips into you with enough force to bruise. You cry out, hardly an innocent party, clenching around him until your little body is full of his transfluid. When he pulls back, you’re shaking under him like a glitch mouse caught between a cybercat’s paws. It’s enough to pull the scarred corners of his lips into a smile. He reaches out a servo to languidly stroke your cheek, and he allows you to grab hold of it and place a tender kiss to his palm. His spike twitches inside of you, transfluid pooling between your legs. And yet, you haven’t stopped bucking against him. A squeak escapes your voice box when he wrenches you against him and buries himself up to the hilt. Evidently, one round isn’t enough for your kind; humans are no better than beasts in heat. But if you want to be bred, who is he to refuse? You grip onto him as though the Nemesis is about to crash.

On a purely biological level, you are completely incompatible. And yet, it doesn’t stop him from craving something more. A hypothetical seed he yearns to plant inside of your frame, one you will carry graciously, for you have lent him your very being.

Overload after overload, he has left you a shivering mess, servos balled up into fists as you fruitlessly attempt to steady your tremors. He smiles against your neck, servo forcefully keeping your thighs spread while his digits scoop up stray transfluid and stuff it back into your insatiable body.