#cream. should probably apply that

[bestfluteninja]

it flared up on the backs of my knees the other day 😑

[cruelsister-moved2]

that thread i rbed like ages ago about men's urge to disagree/object to/obstruct women for no reason has seriously reset my brain its so crazy but i think actually one of the rare things that actually might represent a way forward for how men engage with women. like there's always going to be the rightwing ardent misogynists who don't care that they're doing this but for all the men in the middle that do on some level want to be better it represents 1. fairly confronting evidence that your position in the patriarchy actually affects how you relate to women much more than you realise it does even if you think of yourself as self-aware and 2. a genuine example of something that makes us all suffer because the fact you niggle on every single issue like what flavour of ice cream to buy is unhealthy for relationships (of any kind) AND introduces unnecessary amount of background strain to your life for no real gain. maybe im being an idealist but i love the idea of a man experiencing a certain amount of horror upon recognition of this as a catalyst to other more meaningful recognitions and changes both in how he evaluates the competence of women but also in recognition of the subjectivity of he perceives things i.e i think one of the biggest barriers to confronting the housework gap is often that men don't SEE how much women are doing and also don't SEE things that need to be done, to the extent that ive seen men argue that the solution is just for women to not care about being surrounded by mess. anyway no conclusion but i cant stop thinking about that thread both super horrifyingand also kind of hopeful

[cozybearz]

genuinely believe if i lived in a bikeable/walkable area or even just one where the nearest bus stop wasn’t a 2 mile walk on the road away from my house across the busy main road with no crosswalk, id probably have a job cause that’d make it simple, but unfortunately i freeze up having to navigate a slightly more complicated transportation situation than that

[lovphobic]

btw i caved and bought eczema honey......... if this doesnt work or at least Help i will cry.. bc this small 2oz jar of cream was 15 dollars!!!!!!!!!!!

[benevolentbones]

beach day | spencer reid x fem!reader part 2

part 1

warnings: heated kissing!!! slightly suggestive.

word count: 1.2k

a/n: here is part 2!! hope you all enjoy, thank you for the support and 200+ followers!! reblogs & comments appreciated !!

the sun was at its highest point, casting burning rays down onto the white sand. you and garcia were splashing around, emily and jj had run off to look for seashells and derek was building a mega sandcastle with jack while hotch and spencer were sat by everyone’s bags.

“i’m getting a little cold now y/n, im getting out to warm up.” garcia announced as she began to wade back out of the water, you decided that it would probably be a good idea to take a break maybe get a drink to rehydrate, so you followed the blonde back to the towels.

“honestly hotch the water is perfect are you sure you don’t want to come for a swim?” you grinned as you walked back.

“i think i’m good here.” he mumbled, smoothing down the hawaiian print shirt that adorned his tall figure.

“well in that case- lets get ice cream.” penelope chirped, as he dried herself off putting on a violently floral beach coverup over her swimsuit.

“ice cream!” jack came running back, practically leaping onto his dad, covering them both in sand.

“well that’s one way to summon a five year old.” you laughed.

hotch sent you a joking glare before picking jack up. “yeah lets get some ice cream.” he agreed passively.

“morgan, ice cream lets go hotch is buying!” penelope yelled to derek who was now two feet deep in a hole he was digging.

“wh- i never said…fine.” hotch shook his head in disapproval as he walked away, jack still in his arms, with penelope and derek in tow.

“get me my favourite!” you yelled out as they left, earning a dismissive wave from hotch.

you turned to face spencer, who had now picked up your towel and was using it to block his legs from the sun. his face was buried in his book, with only a few pages remaining.

“can i use my towel, spence.” you smiled sweetly once his doe eyes met yours.

your two piece clung to your body, saturated in sea water. little droplets of water trickled down your bare skin, spencer’s intense stare watching as they connected to each other and fell from your figure.

he cleared his throat before speaking, “i-uh yeah here.” he quickly pass your towel to you, your finger briefly skimming over his causing heat to rise in your cheeks.

you towel dried your hair, wringing your salty locks out.

spencer closed his book, setting it down on the blue cooler to his right. he eyed you, as you began to pat your torso dry, wrapping the towel around yourself, over your two piece, like you had just stepped out of the shower.

“when did you last put suncream on?” you questioned, flicking your hair off of your shoulders.

“i don’t know- maybe four hours ago.” spencer pondered.

you gasped loudly in a playful manner, immediately diving into your beach bag and pulling out your trusted factor 30 suncream.

“i- y/n i think i’m fine.”

“you’re supposed to reapply every two hours- you should know this.” you muttered, shuffling towards spencer’s seated figure.

spencer let out a small groan, although secretly he thought it was cute how concerned you were.

“stand up please.”

“i’m not moving.” a smug smile resting on his face, he wanted to test how serious you were about the application of suncream, surely you’d give up.

you let out a prolonged exhale, dispensing suncream onto your hand.

“you gave me no choice!” you exclaimed, climbing onto the beach chair. spencer’s eyes widened as you practically straddled the man, one leg resting over either side of his lap.

you pushed back his hair with one hand, gently applying the cream to his face with the other. his face burning at your close proximity, he was staring directly and your towel clad form.

once you finished applying it to his face, you reached for the bottle again, you moved down to his neck, then to his arms. at this stage spencer was compliant, doing whatever you needed of him.

“give me your arm.” you muttered, taking his forearm and rubbing in the cream on any visible skin. spencer stirred as you shifted your weight to one side, getting comfortable on his lap.

spencer knew you were a confident person, it reflected in your work on the field, but he never expected you to go this far.

“i know you’re enjoying this.” you joked, your small laugh ringing in his ears.

“s-shut up. i say you couldn’t wait to get your hands on me.” he rebutted your remark, and now it was your turn for your face to flush.

“so what if i did…” you mumbled, taking his other arm in your hand. spencer’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried to read your expression, he wasn’t certain if you meant it. so he decided to find out.

“is that why you wanted my hands all over you?” he questioned. it was a bold move, even for spencer, he couldn’t quite believe those words came from him.

this caught you off guard, you dropped spencer’s arm and stared at him, his hazel eyes stared back with intensity.

“and what if i said yes, dr.reid?” you replied, chewing your bottom lip waiting for his reply.

spencer lifted his dominant hand, slipping it under your towel to rest on your waist. you breath hitched in your throat as his warm hand came in contact with your chilled skin.

“maybe you need a top up.” he mumbled, his grasp on you not faltering.

you studied him, the fresh layer of suncream on his facing causing his skin to glow from the few rays of sun that managed to shine through the gaps of the umbrella.

your hold on the bottle of suncream loosened causing it to fall into the sand below. you brought your right hand up to his face, resting it against jaw as you smoothed your thumb over cheek.

he gave you a small smile, embracing your hold. you reluctantly leaned closer, shifting your position on him. spencer could tell what you were doing, quickly closing the gap between you and pressing his lips to yours.

it was gentle at first, a soft brush that sent shivers down spencer’s spine. you immediately brought your other hand up, running in through his hair. spencer’s grip on your waist tightened, as he brought his other to rest on your thigh.

you shuddered at his touch, your beach towel slipping away from your torso and pooling by your hips. spencer deepened the kiss, as you leaned forward, pressing your body against his. you kissed back hungrily, trailing your hands to cup his face.

spencer pulled away, taking in your features. your eyelids were heavy, your lips slightly swollen. a grin spread across his face as you leaned back in pressing a kiss to your jaw, then to below your ear.

“spence?-“ you breathed out, resting your arms around his shoulders as he continued peppering kisses along your neck before returning to your lips. spencer had wanted to kiss you for months, and now it was finally happening, he wanted to savour every moment.

his lips were soft, his kiss much more tentative this time, spencer’s hands tracing over your figure.

you both pulled back to gaze at one another, heavy breaths slipping from your lips. you could practically feel the heat radiating off of spencer. you both sat for a moment, in silence, taking in what had just happened.

“will you go for a swim with me now?” you questioned.

“i think i’ll need to after that..”

taglist!! @0108s22m @rainoftearss @potatovoyager @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @luvmia222 @shardsofmarxx @silver138 @lover-of-books-and-tea

[bucktommyscones]

Contact

You guys. I couldn't help myself. How fucking amazing was that episode? I feel like I'm on a high.

bucktommy - Words: 458 - Rating: G - complete

Post Ep-8x05

"Shirt off, baby," Tommy says as he climbs onto the bed behind Buck, who is sitting on the end, rolling his head back and forth on his neck. He tugs on the neck of his t-shirt which he's actually pretty sure is Tommy's and tosses it to the floor. Tommy settles in behind him and starts applying the cream the dermatologist gave them for the skin infection. "Contact dermatitis," Buck says, feeling a little sullen. "Hmm," Tommy says as he starts applying. "I'm just glad you let me drag you there after the cemetery." Buck shrugs. "I figured we should cover all of our bases." Tommy's gracious enough not to say that he probably could have done that days ago. There was something about knowing that Billy Boils is finally at rest, as much as he could be anyway, that made him feel better. He didn't like knowing someone died alone. Speaking of being alone... "Hey, Tommy?" "Yeah?" he answers and Buck can feel his gloved fingers still patiently applying the cream to the boils down his back and he knows Tommy will help him with the ones on his face and chest. Buck is also relieved that he has something to help the itching until the antibiotics kick in because that is driving him up the wall. "Thank you," he says softly. "For being there. For coming with me. I know you thought it was dumb." Tommy is quiet for a second. "It's not that I thought it was dumb, Evan. Well, okay, maybe a little," Buck snorts as he continues, "But I just...sometimes I want practical solutions for something, is all. But this was important to you and if you need me...where else am I going to be?" Buck smiles. "Still. Thanks." Tommy presses a careful kiss to the back of his head. "Any time. I should tell you that I also had a little talk with him." Buck resists the urge to turn around. "What?" "My 'just in case,'" he answers, fingers now applying cream to the small of Buck's back. "I just asked him to lift your curse." "You did?" "Like you said. Just covering the bases." Buck can't help the little laugh. "Tommy?" "Yeah? Turn around, let's get the ones on your front." Buck complies and when he does, he sees the look on Tommy's face is sweet and fond as he starts on the boils on his forehead, working his way down his face and neck. "I really, really like you," Buck says, and Tommy's smile is gorgeous. He leans in and places the gentlest of kisses on Buck's mouth. Thank God, Buck thinks, there are no boils there. "I really, really like you, too," Tommy answers with a smile, going back to his task. And Buck thinks, Thank God for that too.

[risuola]

FACE MASSAGE — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN ft. Yuji Itadori

You give your boyfriend a nice, relaxing face massage when Sukuna, being bored out of his mind, takes over Yuji’s body.

cw: fluff, Itadori is 18 and is a vessel for Sukuna — 1,3k words

a/n: alrighty, this one I wrote randomly thinking of how the lines actually are quite a good guide for a face massage (also, if you never had face or a scalp massage, you're missing out!). i usually write Sukuna as his separate person, but here he's in a vessel. it's nothing but purely fluffed up piece of late-night babbling, enjoy 🩷

It was already late, the clock showed almost 11pm, but you were not asleep. Yuji had just gotten home, taken a shower, and breathed out loudly, whining to heavens about how he had worked his butt off during the training session with Gojo. Your boyfriend came back all tired, and the hot shower didn't do much to soothe his strained muscles.

"I'm soooo tired," he whined again, and you couldn't help but smile at the adorable pout his lips had formed as he walked into the room you shared with him.

"'My poor thing," you cooed, kissing his forehead as he sat down next to you. "How about I give you a little face massage?"

"Yes, please," Itadori nodded vigorously and you giggled as you instructed him how to position himself and when you had his head comfortably over your lap, you warmed up a nice portion of face cream in your palms.

"Relax for me, baby," you told him, and he closed his eyes the moment your fingers made contact with his skin.

Yuji loved the magic your hands performed upon his aching muscles, and he found head and face massages particularly relaxing, so it wasn't surprising when he began to doze off in a matter of moments. With him half-asleep, you could take your time to admire the boy who had shamelessly stolen your heart with just one of his wide and extremely kind smiles, and as you glided your fingers smoothly across his forehead, down his temples, cheekbones, and jaw, you fell in love all over again. At first you were extremely gentle, stroking along his features, warming the skin as you went, before applying more pressure to the knots under his skin.

You rubbed small circles across his forehead, paying a little more attention to the space between his eyebrows and near his temples before lowering your hands to work the lotion into the large muscles over his cheeks. Using your thumbs, you forced the tension away with enough pressure to make Yuji purr softly. Then something unexpected happened. Black, tattoo-like lines appeared under your fingers and you slowed your movements, startled by the sight.

You knew that there is a curse living rent-free in your boyfriend, and you've seen Sukuna before, but he had never come out like that, for no reason, without a fight, without a single trigger, so you had no idea what to expect.

"Continue," he ordered, and you swallowed, pressing your fingertips back to his cheeks. Ironically, the lines that adorned his face made for a perfect guide for the massage, and you unconsciously followed them.

"Is there a reason for your appearance now?" you asked cautiously, keeping your fingernails away from the extra pair of eyes as you brushed over the bones beneath them.

"Nothing in particular," he replied lightly, looking up at you as his expression turned more serious. "Although I don't like you looking at me from above."

"You're literally on my lap."

"That's why I'll allow it, once. As for why," he relaxed his face again as you slid down his cheeks to work the muscle around his mouth and along his jawline. "Can you imagine how bored I am inside this brat?"

"I'm afraid not."

"You can't, that's right." A sigh left Sukuna's mouth. "What a pity, I'm bored out of my mind."

"I see, but please don't tire Yuji any more, he's already exhausted."

"You should worry about yourself rather than him being tired."

"I probably should, but if you were to decide to kill me now, you wouldn't get to experience the wonders of my scalp massage, so if you're okay with such a loss..."

You were really pushing his buttons here, being way too brave for your own good, but he seemed comfortable with the situation, which gave you hope that you wouldn't be decapitated anytime soon.

"Proceed then, and I'll make my decision afterward."

You finished his facial massage with a few light strokes along his features and wiped your hands with a tissue to remove any excess cream that hadn't absorbed yet, before you sink your hands into his hair. "Could you flip over to your stomach?" Once that was done, and Sukuna turned almost too obediently as you guided his head back to your lap, you used your fingers to brush through his blush-toned hair, pushing it back and purposefully scratching the skin between the strands as you dragged your hands to the nape of his neck. Once again, you used circular motions and quite a bit of pressure to stimulate the circulation and relax the tense muscles. You knew it was pleasurable, you knew how Yuji's body reacted to your touch and the fact that it was the King of Curses at this moment couldn't change that. The only thing different was the silence, which would normally be filled with constant mewling and whimpering from your boyfriend, but you couldn't expect those from Sukuna. Frankly, you'd be startled if he suddenly started purring.

As you worked your magic, the man remained calm, his cheek pressed against your thigh and his arms behind your back and around your legs, and it didn't really bother you too much. His touch was almost non-existent, he just kept his hands there because they had to go somewhere.

"Do you find this acceptable?" you asked quietly, lowering your fingers to graze the back of his neck. Your thumbs slid down the line of muscles that connected them to his shoulders, and he moved his arms down, giving you more access to that area.

"Acceptable is a good term," he muttered, exhaling deeply as you firmly squeezed the shoulder muscles, working out the tight knots there. Normally, this would turn Itadori into a whining mess, needy of affection and ready for endless cuddles, but for Sukuna, you put more effort into what you were doing. It felt strange. Technically, it was still your boyfriend's body that you had touched many times before, but somehow it felt like you were massaging a foreign man. Even though your fingertips knew the dips and curves of his silhouette, your mind found it hard to process.

Lost in thoughts, you let your hands go lower, onto the shoulder blades and near the spine, following the line down, working your palms into his toned back, only snapping back to reality when one of your hands brushed over the stitches. Oh yes, Yuji had injured himself the day before and because of Shoko's absence, he had to have the wound stitched up. He shouldn't be training with that at all, but he's so stubborn...

"Sukuna?", you addressed him quietly, trying to sound as respectful and polite as possible.

"What do you want?" he replied, his voice indifferent, but he knew from your tone that you needed something from him.

"There is a wound on Yuji's back. Could you heal it so that I can massage that area as well?"

“I don’t mind the pain. I don’t feel it,” he informed bluntly.

“But I can’t massage over stitches. I know it’s nothing for you, so pleaseee?”

"You're pushing your luck, you know that, right?" Sukuna laughed. Oh, how sneaky you were, he loved it, and it's only because he really enjoyed the massage that he granted your request. The sewn-up wound healed before your eyes and black stitches fell away. Your whole face lit up as you ran your hand over the spot.

"Thank youu," you smiled, and as if on autopilot, your body bent forward. You planted a soft kiss on the top of his head before you could think twice and only realized what you'd done when it was too late. Oh. "I'm sorry," you muttered quickly.

"You're so fucking clingy," he scoffed. "Humans..."

"Don't be mad, I'm just grateful," you cooed, returning your nails to his scalp to hopefully distract him from wanting to cut you to ribbons, and it seemed to do the trick as he melted over your thigh, relaxing his body once again.

In few minutes the black markings disappeared, your boyfriend was back and you were left confused but relieved.

[chuthulhu-plays]

I generally watch LPs of horror games bc I'm too anxious to actually play them but a lot of them have FANTASTIC stories, so sometimes I just binge-watch KrinxTV for background noise. Been watching a lot of playthroughs of Still Wakes The Deep because it's such a delight to hear Scottish voice actors get work and I thought I'd address some questions I keep seeing Let's Players ask:

--Adair is a member of the National Front as you can find out from posters in his cabin, a Neo-Fascist British political party that’s been going since the sixties. While it often preaches British ethnic unity, in practice that often means “everybody in the UK should be exactly like East End Londerners” and features plentiful disdain for Scottish, Irish, and Welsh folk, alongside those perceived as “not British”. No wonder the wanker eats alone in the canteen.

--Neeps and Tatties=turnips and potatoes, mashed, drenched in butter or sauce. Fills your belly, keeps you warm, probably makes you sink like a stone because it’s so heavy.

--Cranachan=a dessert made of raspberries, honey, cream and oats, absolutely delicious

--Rennick calls Caz a “wee ned prick”. Ned is apocryphally said to stand for “non-educated delinquent” and is basically just a way of calling someone an uneducated, lower-class criminal

--A lot of things said by and about Roy indicate that he’s a teetotaller who went through AA and specifically became Catholic and is making an effort at converting Caz.

--I think it’s entertaining how Scottish nicknames often follow a pattern of shortening/rejiggering that I also see a lot with Australian nicknames—Cameron becomes Caz, Rafferty becomes Raffs, etc. Trots is an unusual one but is almost certainly a reference to him being a communist, presumably a Trotskyist. Gibbo is also an unusual one in that it’s just very silly. There’s a kind of indignity implied in being killed by a guy called Gibbo.

--A few times on the radio you hear the Shipping Forecast, a type of weather report aimed at specifically reporting weather conditions out on the ocean, and is also famous for the report being read in such a calm, soothing tone that some folk use it as a sleep aid.

--All the yellow paint for interactable things is very video gamey, yes, but is also in line with old British health and safety standards, and yellow paint on things like emergency ladders or on the edges of stairs that are trip hazards is a thing ou can still see in some older buildings.

--Caz keeps saying he’s “good with the leccy”; leccy=electricity. Caz is implied to be quite a wee guy who can get through a lot of tight spaces, and my uncle swears blind that electricians used to refuse to take on apprentices over a certain size because they only wanted to train wee guys who could get up into the tight spaces that a lot of older buildings are full of. On that note, “wee man” is a term of endearment, generally, and isn’t exclusively applied to short guys.

--Finlay saying of Gibbo that “he’s no right” is INCREDIBLY OMINOUS. It sounds mild but “he’s no right, that boy” is what older folk say about a child who’s been found disembowelling cats for fun or someone they strongly suspect is a pedophile. It’s not something you’d say about a friend who’s just acting a bit unusually.

– “Great minds united over a Buckie”--Buckfast, or Buckie, is a caffienated tonic wine that’s cheap, widely accessible, and is a bit like rocket fuel for bad decisions.

– “Ya roaster” tbh I don’t really know where it comes from, calling someone a roaster, but I’ve always felt like it has a vibe of telling them they’re huffing their own farts.

--Scunnert/scunnered--buggered, screwed, utterly fucked, etc

– “You’re the jammiest bastart on this rig” Someone who is jammy is someone who has incredible luck that is implied to be related to their sheer confidence or willingness to engage in risky behaviour. Walking along the street and finding a pound coin isn’t jammy; crossing the road confident that the cars won’t hit you and stopping in the middle to pick up a pound coin before making it unscathed to the other side is jammy as all hell.

--Barlinnie is the biggest prison in Scotland, and largely hosts violent offenders—it’s where Caz would definitely go for hospitalizing a man.

--Weans are children (contraction of wee yins/wee ones). I thought this one was contextually obvious but apparently not.

SPOILERS BELOW

--”One spark and the whole thing’ll go up”—this is referring to the wee spark of flame in the lighter used to blow up the rig, but is also kind of a pun because electricians are often called sparks or sparkies, and in the end it’s Caz who blows up the rig.

[pastryfication]

Oscar with a brunette girlfriend who burns really, really, really easily in the sun

i loved writing this so thank you for requesting!! i didn’t specify the hair colour, so you can imagine whatever you want xx

it’s also based a bit on my parents (my dad burns so easily and my mum is constantly fussing over him), so i really hope you like it

beach day precautions | oscar piastri

the sun is glaring down with a fierce intensity that promises a day full of warmth, as you set up the towels. smoothing them out on the hot floor of sand and unpacking your things from the beach bag you brought is quickly done, and as soon as you ready yourself to lay down, oscar reaches for the sunscreen.

"hold still," he demands teasingly, squeezing a generous amount into his palm. you roll your eyes, but you don't resist. you know he's right. if you had your way, you'd probably be a lobster by midday.

his hands are gentle but thorough as he applies the sunscreen, ensuring every inch of your exposed skin is covered. while he works, he mutters something about spf 50 and how it should be spf 100, just to be safe. you smile, appreciating his care even if it borders on obsessive. it’s one of the many ways he shows he loves you.

when he is content with the job, he pulls back from you slightly, eyes roaming your body to make sure he got everything covered.

"you missed a spot," you tease, pointing to your nose.

oscar huffs in mock frustration but dabs a little extra sunscreen on your nose, making sure to spread it evenly. "there you go. happy now?"

"ecstatic," you reply, giving him a quick kiss before he can fuss over any other potential missed spots. “but now it’s your turn.”

after you’ve covered oscar in sunscreen as well, making sure to smooth your hands over every part of him, spending extra time on his abs, you’re ready to take on the beach.

the two of you spend the morning splashing in the surf, building sandcastles with nothing but your bare hands, and lying together on the towels, watching the waves crash onto the shore. every so often, oscar stops to check your skin, scanning for the telltale signs of a sunburn. despite the layers of sunscreen that he keep adding, you know it's only a matter of time.

by early afternoon, the inevitable happens. a pink tinge starts to appear on your shoulders. it's faint but unmistakable. oscar notices immediately. "alright, that's it," he declares, pulling his t-shirt from your bag. before you can protest, he's draping it over your shoulders, shielding you from the rays of the sun.

"osc, i'm fine," you insist, but he shakes his head, his expression solemn.

"no arguments. i don't want you getting burned." he gently adjusts the shirt to make sure it covers as much of your skin as possible. "we should head back under the umbrella.”

you sigh, knowing he's right, but you can't help but feel a bit disappointed that your beach time is over already. he seems to read your thoughts and smiles. "hey, we can still enjoy the beach from the shade. plus, it's a perfect excuse for some ice cream."

his optimism is contagious, and under the umbrella, with his shirt still draped over your shoulders, the two of you savor the sweet, cold treat. oscar sits close, his arm around you, as if shielding you from any more harm the sun might inflict.

"thank you," you say, leaning into him. “for taking care of me.”

"anytime," he replies, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "that’s what i’m here for."

[hairyjocktf]

A Hairy Remedy

Mark had been pacing back and forth all afternoon, waiting for the mail to arrive. He couldn’t focus on anything else, he’d been waiting weeks for this delivery and it was scheduled to arrive today. Every noise from outside had him rushing to the windows to peek through the blinds. Mark was nearly 30, yet looked barely 20. He’d endured a decade of people making fun of him for having a babyface or being too effeminate, and he’d had enough. After some research online he found some articles and testimonies about Rogaine, a hair growth cream aimed at guys who were balding. While that was the furthest thing from a problem for him, Mark found people on some forums that had used it elsewhere, who wanted to thicken up their beards and more. The before and after pictures he had seen had sold him, and he immediately went and ordered some online. 

He took a break from mindlessly pacing around to use the bathroom. His reflection in the mirror really illustrated how right his bullies had been. His skin was completely smooth, with barely any peach fuzz on his face. That would change soon, he thought, a beard would surely age him up a good bit. Not that he wanted to look old, but not being carded at every bar would be nice. The doorbell rang, and Mark tripped over himself trying to bolt to the front door. Yanking it open, he saw a small package on the mat, with the delivery van already speeding off. He quickly snatched up the box and slammed the door, giddy with excitement. Mark raced to the kitchen to grab the scissors, shredding the cardboard box open to reveal his prize. He held the tube of cream delicately in his palm like it was a newborn. This was it, his saving grace, he thought.

He quickly scanned the pamphlet that came with the cream, notably reading the line, “WARNING: This product has NOT been tested on areas outside of the scalp. We do not recommend usage anywhere besides the scalp, and cannot guarantee results.” Eh, he’d seen it work on guys online, it must be safe enough. Without further thought Mark dashed into the bathroom, staring at his pathetic reflection in the mirror. He felt a sense of power unlike anything before, knowing he held his fate in his hands. He nearly let out a comically evil laugh before realizing he was getting ahead of himself. It was just hair growth medication.

Mark opened the tube and squeezed some of the cream into his palm. Now was time for decisions. He probably should have thought this part through a little more, but no matter, he thought. He began to rub the cream into his face, making sure to stay in the lines of where a beard would grow. Starting with his upper lip, he massaged the cream into his bare skin, working from there down to his chin and then across his cheeks. The ointment was cool and tingled a little as he applied it. Despite his caution, while getting the underside of his jaw he heard a splatter. 

Looking down, he saw a white glob of the cream had fallen directly onto his chest. “Shit, that’s not good,” he cursed to himself. He grabbed a nearby towel before pausing. A smirk spread across Mark’s face as the thought dawned on him. Why not leave it? A little chest hair couldn’t hurt, he thought. The goal was to look a little older anyway. With a devious grin plastered on his face he started to rub the cream into his chest, most of it between his small pecs and spreading it out from there. Satisfied with the treatment he capped the tube and went back to the living room. Now came the hard part: waiting. He went back to check the package to see how long it would take.

“Four to six MONTHS?!” he wailed. He hadn’t bothered to look at a timeline or anything in his research, and this news was devastating to him. He’d expected it to take a while to work, but half a year? That was just too long. With an overwhelming amount of disappointment in his head, Mark collapsed onto the couch and turned on some TV. The rest of the day faded away as he tried to distract himself from how bummed he was. He turned in fairly early, it was Sunday anyway and he had to get up early for work the next morning. With one last glance in the mirror he confirmed that nothing had happened, and went to bed. 

The morning came in an instant, with Mark’s phone alarm wailing into the quiet sunrise until he rolled out of bed. He begrudgingly made his way to the bathroom and started getting his shower ready when he passed by the mirror and did a double take. He stared at his reflection, dropping his towel on the floor in shock. He had stubble. Not just a little peach fuzz, no, a decent layer of it all across his jaw. His hand slowly moved to touch it, to make sure it was real. His fingers grazed over the tips of the scratchy hairs, the prickly feeling sending shivers through his body. It had worked, overnight even! His grin widened as he looked down to see a dusting of hair on his chest where he’d rubbed the cream. He had chest hair! It wasn’t particularly dark or dense but that didn’t matter to him, he actually looked like he’d gone through puberty now. The hairs had sprouted in the center of his chest and spread out towards his nipples, growing long enough to start curling a little. 

With a renewed energy Mark hopped in the shower and continued getting ready for work. He was giddy with excitement, and couldn’t stop feeling the rough stubble on his face. He threw on his slacks and button down shirt and hopped in his car, nearly late from getting distracted so much. Thoughts were racing through his mind on the way to the office; what would people think? He walked in with a swagger he’d never felt at his job before, making his way to his desk and hoping someone would comment. It took until he and some coworkers left to get lunch for anyone to notice, however.

“Hey Mark, growing out a beard are you? I didn’t think you had it in you,” his coworker laughed. “It looks good so far!” he made sure to follow it up with. Mark beamed, someone had noticed! It was really happening. This may have been the best day of his life for all he could care. Anytime he was in private he would have one hand on his cheek and one on his chest, feeling the soft hairs. He could feel his cock jump at the sensation, pushing against his rather tight dress pants. Luckily no one could see that at his desk, he thought, moving one hand to rub down there. A couple other people commented on his new facial hair throughout the day, and Mark was ecstatic. This feeling was electric, addictive almost, he loved the attention and slight amount of respect the stubble seemed to have given him.

Before he knew it the work day was over and Mark scrambled to pack up his belongings to try and beat the rush. In the elevator down he scratched at his face, another grin plastered across his face. He had the classic 5 o’clock shadow for the first time, he thought to himself with a chuckle. A hardworking businessman he was now. He got entirely caught up in the rush hour traffic, but even that couldn’t put a damper on his day. An hour later he was home, walking through the kitchen and dumping his coat and bag. He entered the bathroom to wash his hands and splash some water on his face when he spotted the tube of Rogaine still sitting on the vanity. Mark stared at it, the elated feelings of the day still fresh in his mind. A thought began creeping up from the back of his mind, one that scared him, but also made his cock lurch in his pants.

What if I put on a little more? 

That was the end of it. The idea consumed him, and within seconds he’d torn off his dress shirt and was squeezing more cream into his hands. He spread a thick layer of it across his upper lip, feeling the stubbly hairs that now dotted the area. He then spread more out across his cheeks, which had a decent shadow of stubble across them. Next up was his chest. In the morning he’d been thrilled by the amount of hair now adorning the area, but now he craved more. He pushed more cream from the tube and spread it over a much wider area, from his nipples all the way up to his collarbone, and everything in between. Finishing that up, he realized he’d gotten some extra cream all over his hands, which he rubbed in without a thought. 

The feeling of mania slowly dwindled as he put the cream away and carried on with his night. As he ate dinner he began to worry that he’d gone too far, maybe he should have just waited. It was too late now, though, so he bottled up that worry and watched some TV before getting ready for bed. 

Mark bolted upright when the alarm sounded the next morning. He tore off his sheets and ran to the mirror to take a look at himself.

It had worked again! His stubble was thicker now, with a more pronounced mustache. The hairs on his upper lip were denser and longer, though the rest of his facial hair had also filled in somewhat even if it was still short. But the real showstopper was his chest. The hairs had spread far from the day before, crawling up his pecs all the way where he spread the cream. The hair was thicker, denser, and made him feel exceedingly masculine. He couldn’t believe it. He ran a hand over the more prominent chest hair, the soft hairs tingling under his fingers. His cock rose to attention in his boxers as he lost himself briefly in the moment, unconsciously rubbing his nipple with the other hand. Control slipping away from him, Mark began to moan as he pinched his nipple, feeling the stubble and chest fur that had sprouted. Moments later a rush filled his body, his cock shooting rope after rope of cum onto the mirror. 

“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned, coming back to his senses. What the hell was that? It had felt amazing, but it was as if a primal instinct had taken over him. He watched the cum slide down the mirror for a minute before snapping fully back to reality; he had to get to work! He quickly wiped as much cum off the glass as he could before hopping in the shower and getting dressed. He bolted out the door without eating breakfast, having realized how late he was. Just how long had he been feeling himself in there? 

He parked and scrambled to an elevator inside. In his haste he’d forgotten to button his shirt up all the way, but he noticed in the mirror that some of his new chest hair peeked out of the top. It looked masculine, virile even. He played with a couple of the hairs before the door opened on his floor and he had to act natural. The day was fairly uneventful, other than a couple different coworkers commenting on his stubble and mustache. Mark felt even more confident today than he had yesterday, despite the chaotic morning. As afternoon rolled around, he even unbuttoned his shirt a little more, letting the newly grown hairs breathe. He lounged at his desk getting some of his work done but mostly basking in his newfound masculinity, occasionally sneaking a rub of his chest hair.

Soon enough the day was over again, and Mark made his way home. He was thrilled with how he was looking, but somehow he’d gotten less attention today than before. That didn’t sit right with him. While stuck in traffic he tried to figure it out, going through scenarios and situations from the day. Maybe… he thought he was making progress but in the eyes of others he looked the same. Frustrated, he barged through the door of his house and grabbed a beer from the fridge before landing on the couch. He turned on the TV and cracked it open, slowly sipping away at it as the light outside faded into dusk. Finishing that beer, he went for another, nursing it and watching some mediocre movies. Eventually the beers caught up to him, and having to pee badly he hopped up and went to the bathroom. There, on the counter, was the tube of Rogaine.

It seemed to burn a hole in his vision, everything else fading away. The feelings of the last day flooded back to him; the confidence of being hairy, the frustration of it not being enough, the pleasure of cumming to his own hairy body. Mark felt the same devilish thought clawing back into his head, but no longer as a question. It was a desire.

I need more.

He opened the tube again, squirting the cream directly onto his chest this time, slathering it all across his pecs and down over his stomach. He rubbed the cream deep into his already decently hairy chest, before taking more and coating his face with another layer. Mark was spreading far too much cream on, and from his jaw it began dripping down his neck. He couldn’t care less. His logical self had taken a backseat, his body being driven by a deep seated need, a desire he’d been unaware of. Mark stripped off the rest of his work clothes and kept at it. He continued to smear the cream across his torso, spreading it from his chest up and over his collarbone onto his shoulders. He was so engrossed in rubbing the cream into his skin that he was oblivious to the slight itch that began cropping up under the thick paste.

Mark wiped the excess cream onto his forearms and stared into the mirror, breaths ragged. He’d worked himself into a sweat. The droplets streamed down his skin, pulling the cream with it. His eyes surveyed his wet, ointment covered skin for anything. That was when he noticed the itch. It had grown stronger, more prevalent over his chest as the skin began reacting to the heavy dose of cream laid on. Hairs started to push out of his chest, darker and thicker than the ones before. They grew longer as more and more filled in the spaces between. Mark’s cock grew harder as he watched the hairs sprout, feeling them coming in between his fingers. The hairs thickened into a dark rug, completely coating his chest and crawling upward, thick whorls of hair overtaking his collarbone. His neck, which had been bare until now, began darkening as the shadow of hair crept up over it. Long strands erupted from the base, continuing the chest hair up onto his neck; no collar would ever hide these dark hairs. His stubble crept down from his jaw to meet in the middle, growing darker and pushing out farther from his face. His nicely trimmed stubble was quickly becoming a scruffy mess, with the wiry beard hairs erupting all over his face. Mark used his tongue to feel the longer hairs pushing out of his upper lip, curling over and spreading over his cheeks. He was really tenting his boxers now.

The hairs began moving south, down from his chest in a line towards his navel. The thick line of fur blossomed outward across his belly, darkening the area with long tangled hairs that blotted out the skin. Mark rubbed his hand over the growing fur, groaning from the stimulation of the hairs under his hand. Without thinking he reached back for the tube of Rogaine, pushing more out into his hands before absolutely coating his pits in the stuff. He scratched and scratched as the itch spread from his chest there, looking like a monkey as near instantly thick black hairs shot out of his bare underarms. One after another they pressed out, his fingers clawing through a denser and denser bush. Soon enough they’d overwhelmed the area with a thick tuft of tangled hair, spreading even further to connect with the rug on his chest. Mark was overcome by the tingling feeling of hairs bursting from his skin, surrendering himself even more to what was happening. 

When he finally pulled his hands out of his pits they didn’t escape unscathed. The backs of his hands were coated with thick hairs, and as he pulled one up to his face to look closer he could see more worming their way out of his knuckles. The sight alone was enough for a glob of precum to shoot into his boxers. The hairs didn’t end there, however. They surged up his forearms, a tangled forest of black hairs erupting and growing dense. The same followed on his upper arms, connecting seamlessly to the dense fur coating his shoulders. He felt the signature itch of the hair growth spread from his shoulders down across his back. Turning in the mirror, he saw thousands of dark spots appear across his shoulder blade and race down towards his ass. Seconds later every spot erupted into thick curly hair, follicles pushing them out longer and longer. The mat thickened over his back as hairs curled and tangled together, especially right above his waistband. 

His body wasn’t done yet. Mark felt an intense prickling under his boxers and quickly pulled them down, scratching relentlessly at his inflating ass. He could feel as the prickles turned into wiry hairs, pushing out across his cheeks. He groaned as the feeling of thick hairs growing like fur in his crack was too much, shoving his hands in there to feel the thick pelt erupting from his skin. His eyes nearly rolled back as he felt up his tight hole surrounded by a jungle of hair, his cock harder than he’d ever felt it before and leaking like a faucet. The fog he had felt absorbed in just that morning was returning, his body acting on its own in search of masculinity and pleasure. The hair growth only served to fuel that fire, spreading from his ass down his legs in a thick carpet over his thighs. The curls popped up from the skin, thickening as they pressed out from his skin into a fuzzy coating all the way to his feet.

Mark slid further and further into the recesses of his mind, intoxicated from testosterone as his body continued to change. His self-indulgence reached a crescendo as every other desire slipped away, flushed out of him through the faucet that was his dripping cock. 

More hair.

His hand reached for the tube again, emptying the last of it into his palm before reaching to grasp his rock hard cock. He slid his hand up and down, coating it in the cream and letting the rest drip all over his groin. A moan slipped out as he continued to pump his member, it slowly growing thicker and longer as it absorbed the cream. More drops of cream splattered into his sparse bush, Fertilizing the ground for what was next. Dark hairs began popping out of his skin, dark and thick. They pushed out longer than his old hairs, filling in the space between them rapidly. 

More hair.

His pubes erupted in mere minutes, a dense triangle of fur filling out his crotch, tangling and curling together as the scent of musk and ointment grew stronger. The hairs continued their conquest, reaching up to his stomach and out over his thighs. His balls swelled larger before becoming enshrouded in a carpet of their own. His cock continued pushing out longer as Mark pumped away, groaning as it grew thicker and more sensitive. 

He wasn’t done yet, as more and more hairs filled in all over, rugs connecting into a massive carpet of body hair. The hairs were ever crawling up the shaft of his massive cock thanks to the cream. Mark’s breathing had grown intense, groaning nonstop as instinct took over completely. One hand rubbing through his thick fur and the other edging him closer and closer to climax. He could feel the tingle as the hairs lengthened and thickened, coarse hairs rubbing against each other as they matted together.

He roared as everything finally peaked, his cock erupting with rope after rope of cum. It went everywhere, getting tangled in all his new grown fur. He continued pumping load after load out, an unbelievable amount of cum poured out of him onto his hairy body. He gasped as every pump of his cock sent immense waves of pleasure through him, squeezing every last drop of cum out. He let go of his softening member and moved his hands to his chest, feeling the sticky cum in all the hair. 

“Fuuuuuck yes…” he groaned as he rubbed the cum into his fur just as he’d done with the cream earlier. His bush was completely soaked with cum, and he could feel the hairs thickening as he massaged the area. All over his body, the cum served only to encourage even more growth, and quicker than the Rogaine ever had. Dark hairs pressed out between previous ones, covering him in a dense pelt that hid his skin beneath. Cum slowly dribbled out of his cock as the pleasure swept through his system. The fog in his head slowly dissipated, and Mark was brought back to the forefront of his brain. The primal instincts that had control for the past hour gave up their hold. He stared at himself in the mirror for a minute. Black fur coated his whole body, cum dripped from patches all over him. His cock was now dangling at eight inches soft. He slowly moved his arms to feel the hair growing all over him, trying to process his reality. He only managed to get two words out.

“Oh, fuck.”

[pickingupmymercedes]

Utterly gone - Lewis Hamilton NSFW

Can be read as part 2 to A smile like that but it's a piece on its own.

warnings: unprotected sexual activities, oral sex mainly.

Wrap it before you tap it.

wordcount: +3k

a/n: Wasn't gonna post this, but I think we could all use some soft smutty comfort after the shit show this race was.

a/n.2: Special mention to Lewis adjusting in front of the cameras in the quali press conference

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

The suite was quiet when I finally slipped inside, the faint hum of the almost rising city life seeping in from the balcony. I dropped my bag by the door and kicked off my heels, feeling every ounce of fatigue settle in.

Singapore always did that—drained you without mercy, and yet, it was beautiful enough to make you forgive it.

Lewis had beaten me back to the room, not that it had surprised after hearing he wouldn’t be making the media round.

Sure enough, I found him in the bathroom, leaning his weight on the counter, fresh out of the shower, a towel slung low around his waist.

His skin gleamed under the warm lights, and his face… tired was a understatement— he could probably sleep for a week straight.

Dark circles under his eyes, the slightest furrow to his brow, as he absentmindedly worked his moisturizer into his skin.

God, how was it possible for him to look so good after almost being dehydrated?

I should probably say something snarky. After all, I had asked for a win, and what did I get?

But I knew better in that moment and honestly watching him rub lotion into his skin with those deft, practiced hands—he was so gentle with himself, it was almost unfair how much I melted at the sight of it.

My eyes trailed down his back, appreciating the little flex of muscle every time his hands moved, before finally pushing off from the door and walking toward him.

The whole thing felt so domestic, so… normal. Like this was our routine after every race weekend. Like I wasn’t still getting used to seeing him like this—bare, unguarded, with no cameras or crowds around.

“Hey,” I greeted, leaning against the counter beside him, my hand brushing his skin. He glanced at me through the mirror, a tired smile tugging at his lips.

“Hey, love” he murmured, still focused on his task. I watched the way his fingers traced the lines of his jaw as he applied the cream, and a warmth spread through my chest.

“Not quite what we expected, was it?” I tried, still feeling the mood in the room, my eyes twinkling as I caught his gaze in the mirror.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Guess I owe you a win.”

I gave a mock frown, crossing my arms. “Yeah, you do. But, hey, at least you managed to sneak in that kiss before the race, so maybe I can forgive you.”

He turned to face me now, that infamous grin spreading slowly across his lips. “Couldn’t resist” he said, reaching out to pull me toward him, his arms wrapping around my waist. I let him, his body sinking into me while my body betrayed any pretense of annoyance.

I rolled my eyes. “You know I hate that. Not in front of all the cameras.”

He chuckled again, the sound low and rich, vibrating against my chest. “You liked it, though. Don’t lie.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I quipped, trying to ignore the way his fingers trailed up and down my spine. “But for the record, I also owe you.”

He breathed in almost sighting, leaning in closer, his breath brushing my ear. “I’m knackered, babe.”

I pushed him gently toward the bed, unable to hold back my grin. “Don’t worry, this reward doesn’t require you to lift a single finger.”

I brought the lotion from the counter. Lewis was sitting on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slouched, towel still hanging precariously low on his hips.

His eyes tracked my every movement as I made my way over, like he was too tired to speak but too intrigued not to watch.

I stood in front of him, letting the lotion warm in my hands before I gently placed them on his arms. His skin was still damp from the shower, and as I worked the lotion into his forearms, I could feel the exhaustion radiating off him. His muscles, taut and defined, finally relaxing under my touch.

“Thought you said this was my reward,” he muttered, a half-hearted attempt at a banter playing at his lips as he watched me. “Feels more like I’m getting spoiled.”

“Shh,” I said, quirking a brow at him. “Don’t ruin the moment, Hamilton.”

He chuckled softly, but he didn’t argue. Smart man.

I let my hands wander further, rubbing the lotion into his biceps, taking my time. He deserved it.

God knows how much strain he puts his body through during that race, and seeing him like this—vulnerable, letting me take care of him—made my heart do that stupid fluttering thing I still wasn’t used to.

As I moved to his shoulders, massaging the knots and tension out of his neck, he let out a low, contented hum, his head dropping forward just slightly.

“This alright?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. It was in the way he was practically melting under my hands.

“Mmm,” was all he managed to get out, his eyes fluttering shut as I continued my work.

My hands moved to his chest, spreading the lotion across his smooth skin. His breath hitched, just for a second, as my fingers grazed his collarbone.

God, he was beautiful. I tried to keep my thoughts from spiraling, but it was hard not to admire every inch of him—the way his chest rose and fell beneath my touch, the warmth radiating off his skin.

By the time I got to his abs, his eyes were back on me, half-lidded but focused, watching my every move. I couldn’t help the grin that tugged at my lips.

“You really know how to spoil a man” he murmured, his voice husky.

I shrugged playfully. “I did promise you something, didn’t I?”

His gaze softened, and for a moment, we just stood there, me between his legs, him looking up at me like I was the only thing keeping him grounded.

And maybe I was. At least for that night anyway.

I cupped his face in my hands, my thumbs brushing over the light stubble on his jaw. His beard was a little more grown out than usual, and the roughness beneath my fingers made me smile at much we had grown used to each other.

“Whatever this is between us,” I started, my voice quieter now, my heart pounding harder than I cared to admit, “I’m ready for it, if you are.”

His breath caught in his throat, and for a second, I wondered if I’d said too much. But then he smiled—God, that smile—and it was all I needed.

He pulled me down to meet his lips, soft and slow at first, like he was savoring every second.

When we finally broke apart, there was a look in his eyes—something vulnerable, something real—and it made me laugh softly, because Lewis Hamilton, the man who could keep his cool under any amount of pressure, looked like he was trying to make sure he hadn’t just imagined this whole thing.

“You really are unbelievable” I teased, brushing my thumb over his bottom lip.

He gave me that lazy smile and pulled me closer, his voice low, almost reverent. “And you’re mine.”

And in that moment, I knew it was true.

As I knelt between his legs, my fingers trailing along his soft, warm skin, a single thought crossed my mind: How did I get here?

One minute, I was dodging his cheesy messages, and now the man was sitting there, half-asleep, eyes half-lidded, as vulnerable as I had seen him.

And me? I was utterly gone for him.

But, God, he looked so damn good. Even tired, fresh out of the shower, with his braids slightly damp and that towel sitting low on his hips. The way he sat, like he knew he had all the time in the world, like he could wait for me forever.

We were both worn out after the weekend, the clock read 5.a.m and the man had just lost around 3kgs in under two hours. Yet here I was, determined to give him the kind of reward he wouldn't forget.

Because, if I was being honest with myself, I wanted this as much as he did.

His breath hitched as I ran my hand down his abs, my fingers teasingly hovering near the edge of the towel. He shot me a look—half amused, half daring. His smirk was infuriatingly confident, even now.

I could tell he was fighting exhaustion, but there was no way he was going to let me out of this one.

“Don’t tempt me,” he murmured, low and sultry, as though I hadn’t already made up my mind.

I raised an eyebrow, my lips curling into a playful grin. "Oh, I’m not tempting." I let my fingers slip just under the edge of the towel. "I’m delivering."

Before he could get another word in, I tugged the towel loose. It fell open in his lap, and his throat pushed down a gulp as he realized exactly where this was heading.

His breath hitched when my fingers brushed lightly over his soft dick, and I couldn’t help but smirk. “What was that about ‘a heatstroke’ Hamilton?”

He chuckled softly, though it was a little strained, his eyes never leaving mine as I wrapped my hand around him, giving him a gentle squeeze. “Was told to not lift a muscle and be mindful of heavy activities”

“Mm-hmm, don’t worry I’ll take it from here”

As my hand wrapped around his soft dick, I could see the exact moment the cockiness melted off his face. His lips parted, and a shaky breath escaped him as I gave him a slow stroke, feeling him harden in my hand.

My inner voice was screaming with victory. That little smirk? Gone. Reduced to nothing but ragged breaths and soft moans.

I kissed along his length, starting slow, teasing. Because even though I wanted to give him exactly what he craved, I wasn’t about to let him off that easy.

His hips bucked just a little, his eyes fluttered shut for a moment and his lips parting slightly. All reminders of how much he needed this, needed me.

And honestly, I loved every second of it.

My lips grazed his tip, already glistening with pre-cum, and I flicked my tongue against him, tasting him for the first time tonight. The salty-sweetness on my tongue made me hum in satisfaction.

He groaned, his head tilting back as I took him into my mouth, inch by inch, my hand still stroking what my lips couldn’t reach. He was getting harder, thickening in my mouth, and when I peeked up at him, his eyes were half-closed, his face contorted in bliss.

“Fuck, love…” His voice was low and ragged, like he could barely string the words together.

Encouraged by the sound of his pleasure, I picked up the pace, sucking him deeper and harder, my free hand gently massaging his balls.

His breath hitched again, his hips involuntarily thrusting forward, pushing himself further into my throat.

I wasn’t just giving him head; I was savoring him, relishing every reaction he gave me. He wasn’t just a F1 champion right now—he was mine, completely undone by me, and that thought made me chuckle.

His fingers went to back of my neck, his fingers tugging at the soft skin, gently guiding my head as I bobbed up and down on him. His touch wasn’t rough, though—more like he was hanging on for dear life, trying not to lose control.

But I wanted him to lose control. I wanted to be the reason.

It wasn’t long before his body started to tense, his breath coming out in sharp gasps, his grip on my head tightening as I took him deeper, my lips wrapped tightly around his now fully engorged dick.

“Love, I’m—” His voice broke, a guttural moan escaping his lips as I felt his cock pulse in my mouth. And then, with one last thrust, he came.

His warm, slightly fruity-tasting seed spilled into my mouth, and I swallowed him down, feeling the tension leave his body in waves.

I stayed there for a moment, his dick still in my mouth, gently holding him as he came down from the high. When I finally released him, I couldn’t help but leave a soft kiss on the tip, smiling up at him.

For a moment, I just watched him, wondering how I could feel this good about someone else’s pleasure. But it was him. It was Lewis. The man who could make me smile just by walking into a room, the one who posted cheesy Instagram captions just to get a reaction out of me.

His chest was heaving, his head thrown back, and when he finally looked down at me, his expression was somewhere between disbelief and utter satisfaction.

“Jesus” he muttered, still catching his breath.

I wiped the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand before standing up and leaning in to kiss him softly. He kissed me back with lazy, contented strokes of his lips, tasting himself on me.

“You good there, champ?” I teased, brushing my hand on the skin of his thigh.

He let out a weak chuckle as I stood up, leaving Lewis in a blissful haze, he watched me with those half-lidded, dazed eyes, his lips still parted and a silly smile danced on his lips.

“Just need a quick shower,” I said, my voice lighter now, as I brushed a hand over his damp chest. His skin was warm under my fingers, still slick from the lotion, and for a second, I just wanted to crawl into bed with him right then and there.

Lewis chuckled softly, his hand slipping lazily over mine before letting it go. “Take your time, love. Not going anywhere.”

The playful edge in his voice was replaced by something softer, and it made my heart flip. He didn’t need to say it, but I could hear the unspoken words between us: I’m here to stay.

As I disappeared into the bathroom, I let the water run warm, and my mind wandered back to him, sitting there on the bed, probably still recovering.

It felt like the most natural thing in the world, this routine between us—like we’d been doing it for years instead of months.

Under the warm stream, I couldn’t stop grinning like an idiot. My mind couldn’t help but flicker back to yesterday, to that moment in the presser where the world had caught him, not-so-discreetly, adjusting himself in his fireproofs.

I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. Not in a dirty way… okay, maybe a little dirty. But mostly, I couldn’t stop picturing his hands, the way his muscles tensed.

Like he’d hoped no one would notice. Like I hadn’t already memorized every detail about him, including that not-so-little part he was trying to rearrange.

I’d tried to play it cool, ignoring the way the image stuck with me since, but now that I’d just had him falling apart under my hands, it only made the memory that much more satisfying.

The teasing was fun, but the way he trusted me with parts of himself no one else saw—that was something else.

When I stepped out, towel wrapped around me, I found him exactly where I’d left him.

Only this time, he’d shifted to the middle of the bed, his head resting on the plush pillows, the towel from earlier discarded somewhere, and the duvet pulled over his waist.

He looked so at peace, the kind of peace you only find after you've completely let go. His eyes fluttered open as I crossed the room.

“You know,” I said, sliding into bed beside him, “I wasn’t planning on making you that blissed out.”

He chuckled, his hand immediately finding my waist, pulling me closer. “Didn’t hear any complaints from me.”

I laughed softly, snuggling up to him as his arm wrapped securely around me. My hand found its place on his chest, where I began tracing lazy circles against his skin, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breaths beneath my fingertips.

It was quiet for a moment, the kind of comfortable silence where nothing needed to be said.

The world outside didn’t matter. The race result didn’t matter.

It was just us, tangled together in a king-sized bed, far away from the noise of the race, the cameras, the expectations. It felt like we were in our own little bubble, and I didn’t want it to pop.

As his head found its way to my lap, his hair tickling my thighs, I continued my absent-minded tracing on his skin, enjoying the closeness.

His body started to relax even more, sinking into me like he was using me as a pillow.

And then, just when I thought he’d drift off completely, he murmured, his voice thick with sleep, “That was better than a podium.”

I blinked, momentarily confused. “Wait… the head?”

He let out a soft chuckle, his lips curling into a sleepy smile. “Nah, love. Having you here… as mine. That’s what’s better.”

My breath hitched, and for a second, I wasn’t sure how to respond.

My heart did that stupid thing where it felt too big for my chest, and all I could do was smile like an idiot.

The man could win championships, sure. But moments like this? When it was just us, no pretense, no show—this is where he truly wins me over.

I looked down at him, his eyes closed already, lashes brushing his cheeks, and I brushed a soft kiss to his forehead.

“Mhm…” he muttered, already half-asleep. “Love you too.”

And just like that, I was a goner. The words weren’t even fully processed in my mind, but my heart knew.

It always had.

I didn’t even need to say them back. Not yet. He knew. And he’d wait, just like he always did.

As he drifted off, his breathing slow and even, I felt a warmth settle in my chest. I could’ve sworn he was smiling, even in his sleep.

And yeah, maybe I had fallen hard for him, but if this was what it felt like? I wasn’t in any rush to stop.

______________________________________________________________

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[arminsumi]

Your blog is my daily serotonin <3

geto letting you put eyeliner on him while sitting on his lap- taking the opportunity to flirt with you!!! I'm imagining soft, light, almost tickling touches and his sultry eyes. reader *desperately* trying to keep her cool...

ahhhhaaaaaaaa

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ?

A/N: stawppp u made me blush tysm 💗 also this idea made me SPIN in my spinny chair i love it sm. sugie's eyes are so mesmerizing 🫠 (p.s. ur theme is so prettyyy!!)

Wc ≈ 1.4k

Pairing: GETO Suguru x f.reader

Summary: practicing putting eyeliner on your best friend, while sat in his lap. He can't help but take this chance to flirt with you. Of course, a certain someone interrupts your moment right at the end

Warnings; Satoru being a jackass and totally interrupting u guys at THE moment lol

♪ melting like an ice cream when you smile

“Is it bothering you? Should I clip it back?” Suguru asked.

“Nooo, I don’t mind it.” you replied. “I can keep your bangs at bay with my pinkie, ‘s all good.”

What you did mind was the proximity between you and him.

You could feel the support of his muscular thighs and the engulfing warmth radiating from his chest even through that oversized cotton shirt of his. The very white shirt that had always driven your senses wild for some reason – probably because of how its short sleeves teasingly hinted at his toned arms underneath without completely showing them off.

Pinkie keeping his bangs at bay, fingertip lightly pressing against his cheekbone and hair tickling your skin, you applied the eyeliner with slow, meticulous strokes.

Suguru was mesmerized. You looked focused like an artist at work on a painting. And he noticed that you seemed mesmerized, too. Even a bit shy, which he commented on because it was so unlike you.

“Shy, huh?” He teased.

“I’m not shy.” You denounced half-heartedly. “Why would I be?”

He just smirked in response, and that itself had such an effect on you; your careful line became an inky squiggle. “Oh no! No no no!” you muttered under your breath, hastily using your pinkie to wipe the mistake away but that only resulted in smudging it awkwardly into the crease of his eyes.

“Don’t laugh! Don’t smile! I have to fix the corner…” you begged with Suguru, but that only made him laugh and smile harder. He apologized through soft chuckles.

After correcting the mistake, you pulled back from his face to check that both sides seemed equal. Only when you pulled your face away like this, did you and Suguru realize in the back of your minds that you were quite close to each other earlier…

“Mesmerized by something?” he asked teasingly. His cool voice was so close to your ears, it felt like it reverberated in your whole chest.

Sultry eyes narrowed interestedly at you as you observed the corners of them. Those abyssal irises demanded eye contact from you, and once they got it, they peered into your soul. Suguru loved doing that, not only to appreciate your eyes but because of your sweet, shy reaction.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to stare. Just making sure both sides look the same.” You told him.

“Mhm.” He hummed.

Maybe the broken eye contact is what led him to snake his arms around your waist and pull you closer. Or maybe he just missed the intimate closeness that you had with him earlier, when your faces were quite close.

 You tried to distract yourself from the bubbling heat in the pit of your stomach that his subtle touch caused. “I’m not very talented at eyeliner…” you admitted.

“Really? I think yours always looks good.” Suguru said.

“Just ‘good’ ?! That means I look bad.”

He chuckled. “No I – alright, I’ll phrase it better; you always look like you’re ready for a photoshoot.”

“Oh, stop flirting!” you scolded him playfully, causing his lips to stretch into a cheeky smile.

“Aw, you caught me in the act.” He muttered sultrily.

You tried not to smile, but that was very impossible in the moment. It seems it was the same for him, too. Being so close to you with his arms wrapped around your waist put him in an excited daze.

Sunset light streamed in through the sheer curtains, patterned shadows forming on the white bed made it seem like you were sitting on a grey meadow of flowers, twigs and leaves. A very slight rumble of traffic rose over the railing of the balcony just outside the sliding door. Tokyo had a certain sound and feeling to it, one you could never put your finger on.

After a bout of silence, you realized you and him had stopped talking and just stared into one another’s eyes. You’d even stopped applying the eyeliner. Stomachs knotted up with feelings, the two of you were both about to say something to each other before you blurted out “The brown eyeliner fits you well, glad I chose it.”

“Oh?” he batted his lashes at you… or was that an involuntary action? Who knows. You continued to carefully flick the felt tip of the eyeliner until a tiny, sharp angle was formed.

Well, ‘sharp’. It wasn’t as razor-edged as the other side, which really bothered you. The way you flitted your eyes between his two made him crack a smile that made his Addam’s apple subtly shift up and down.

“Do I look bad?” he asked curiously.

“Not at all… you look ho- you look good with eyeliner.” You replied.

“Oh, I look hot, huh? You crushin’ on me? Satoru’s gonna be heartbroken.” He joked.

“I'm not crushing — !” you squeaked quickly in response, taken aback.

“You’re not crushing on me or you’re not crushing on him?”

“I’ve never… I’m not crushing on Satoru.” You told him.

Such an unexpectedly serious question for him throw into the mellow atmosphere. He tried to sound light-hearted so he wouldn’t scare you off from answering, or give hint to his nervousness.

“So then…?”

“So then what?” you blinked at him, all movements of the eyeliner brush ceased. Things were getting heatedly exciting.

“So then, you have a thing for me?”

You widened your eyes at him. His heart thumped, he was getting nervous – unsure how to judge your reactions to his questions. He was trying to assess whether you liked him or not, and you were making it so hard. If only he could read your mind, he thought.

“Huh? What? Stop flustering me!” You laughed it off.

He could tell you were avoiding answering out of nervousness, but it still irked him; he really wanted to know.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to just spring that on you so suddenly. I was just… curious.” He said.

You sighed. “I’m… I’m already melting over you, no need to vaporize me.”

“Oh? You’re melting?” his eyes lit up, “Why?”

“Because…” you trailed off immediately, “No reason.” You lied.

“No reason?” he questioned, raising his brows sceptically, “You sure about that?”

With the way he raised his brows, his eyes became even more spellbinding. You felt completely bewitched by them. The pigment of the liquid eyeliner, paired with the undertones of the eye pencil you started with, paired with the slight glint of light in his eyes – all of it made that bubbling heat in your stomach explode into an even bigger feeling.

You got so lost in his pretty, abyssal eyes that you didn’t realize how silent you’d become, or how close you had gotten to his face – not that he minded the increased proximity, it had his heart pumping hard.

“You okay? Still melting?” he teased.

“Sorry! I’m just – “

“ – mesmerized by me? Melting for me?” he teased further.

“Suguru!” you laughed shyly.

“There’s no need to keep playing it off, I can see right through you.” He said seriously.

Your eyes lingered on his for much too long. It felt like what he said was true – it felt like he really could see right through you, like you were transparent. He was itching to break the tension between you and him with a feverish kiss. One of those classic, best-friends-to-lovers kisses that you see in the movies.

But then guess who burst through the door of your apartment as loudly as possible? Yeah, the jackass that you regretfully gave your apartment key to.

“YOUR SAVIOR HAS ARRIVED!” Satoru hollered, striding down the hallway and popping his head into your bedroom to find you and Suguru breaking apart very quickly, as if you weren’t just on his lap about to share your first kiss.

“Did ya miss me? ‘Course you did. What?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head.

“What’s with that look?” Satoru whined.

“Nothiiing!” You groaned, Suguru just chuckled under his breath.

“Yuh, I mean, I didn’t do anything, after all. Weirdos.” Oh, you really wanted to shove a pillow into his face.

He pounced on the bed, coming right between you and Suguru without thinking too much of it. “I’m so hungry – let’s get takeout.” He whined and rolled around on your bed. He pleaded until you gave in. “Yay, let’s fuckin’ go then I’m so starved.” He said dramatically.

So you and Suguru readied yourselves to go out for a spontaneous food trip.

“What a pity.” He said with the utmost sultriness in his eyes and voice, leaving you at the doorframe with a wink that lingered in your mind for the rest of the day.

Reblogs n' comments help a lot!! 💗😙

Visit my library ?

[xhunnybeeex]

Kinktober post 3 

Black lipstick 

(TW//: NSFW content, force-feminization, mommy kink, degradation, slight dacryphilia, makeup on a male character, goth! Reader, Sub! Sam, female pet names, nipple play,)    

Sam always has an interest in your makeup. Watching you adoringly as you tried out different gothic styles. It was really no surprise to you when you walk into your bathroom to find him trying it out for himself. 

You open the door, eyeing him as he spreads black cream across his lips. He turns around quickly, leaving a black streak to rub onto his cheek. “Y/n it’s not what it looks like, I’m sorry.” He pleads. You giggle at the sound of him sounding so guilty. “”Why should you be sorry, everyone deserves to feel pretty.” you smile. His face turns from panic to confusion in a matter of seconds.

You push Sam to sit on your sink counter. He obeys like a dog for you. Always has, and probably always will. “You wanna try some makeup on.” You ask kindly. His cheeks heat up and sheepishly nods, avoiding your gaze. You chuckle quietly and lift his chin up to look at you. You  pick up a cotton pad, covering it in micellar water and clearing off all the smudged makeup. 

He sits there quietly,  watching his lap. “Is there a certain look you want me to do on you baby?” You ask gently, taking out a couple things before you get started. “Can you um.. Can you do the one you did the other day? With the blue glitter?” he asks humbly. You smile and hiss his cheek. “Of course. Just close your eyes for me.” He obeys immediately, fluttering his eyes closed just for you. 

Sam sits on your counter patiently, humming Altar De Fey and tapping his fingers against his jeans. You cover his eyelids in black and blue eyeshadow, spreading the colors until they mix the way you want. “Open” you ask quietly.  His eyes flicker open and he sees you holding eyeliner and mascara. He’s timmed and flinches as you start to put the pencil towards his eye. You pull back and offer him a comforting smile. His demeanor changes and you slowly go black to smearing eyeliner under his eyes and applying mascara. 

You touch up his messily put on lipstick and snap on the cap. “You're done!” you announce to him. He quickly stands to his feet, looking at himself in your mirror and admiring your work, and the way he looks. “I look pretty,” he says quietly. You smile as you hold your arms around his waist. 

“I’m glad you like it.” You say, leaving soft kisses up his neck. “Thank you.” his hands are gripping the counter as he watches you from the mirror. “Thank you..?” He recognizes your tone instantly, it sends shocks up his spine. “Thank you mommy.” He breathes out. You gently bite down on his neck and his knuckles begin to turn white. “Why don't you try something on for me, yeah?” He nods eagerly and you pull him into your bedroom. You sit him on your bed and walk over to your dresser. “Take those off for me okay.” you command as you shuffle through your drawers. 

You turn back around to see him fully stripped for you. You smile in approval and hold out a pair of black lace underwear. They arent your black panties, you know that wouldn’t be able to hold him, but a cute pair for him to try on. He eyes them delicately and slides them up his thighs. He looks at himself through your floor length mirror hanging on your door. His breath is heavy in his throat. His mouth lays open, his tongue almost hanging out,  but words aren't able to come out. 

You kneel down in front of him. Up bite on his thigh and he whines and goes to hold onto your shoulders, but he knows better than to touch you without permission. “Go ahead pretty girl, you can touch.” Sam's hands instantly move to your hair, tangling his fingers into it.You lick up his lace-covered bulge, salt covering your tongue and he pulls your hair and whimpers in response. Your spit and his precum leaves the panties wet. “My girl’s so soaked for me.” 

You take his cock out of the lace and fold the underwear to the side, licking a stripe up his thigh . Your hand moves up to hold his balls as your mouth moves to the head of his cock, so close where he feels your breath on him, cooling his precum that's spilling. He whines and bucks his hips up. He’s needy and frustrated. He’s been a good boy for you, and he expects his reward for doing so. You laugh at his eagerness and squeeze his balls. “Don't be a brat.” His hips go back into their former position and you release your grip. You move your mouth up and swirl your tongue around his nipple. Pulling and tugging the nub between your teeth. 

“You’re so pathetic for me, you’re all needy for me, you like being all dolled up for me? Being called a beautiful girl?” You degrade. He's a whining mess under you and he nods, helpless. “Yes mommy, I've been a good girl for you, just, please.” He pants. You give in and wrap your 

Lips around his tip, pushing your head down his length. 

Sam lets out a loud, whiney moan and one hand gripping your hair the other tangled in the sheets. Your hand continues to squeezes his balls, leaving sam overstimulated. His cock twitches in your mouth and you pull off of him. “Don't come yet, I will tell you when you're allowed.” He nods and squeezes his eyes shut. “Yes, mommy.” his mascara drips down his cheeks as tears puddle in his eyes, only encouraging you more. “Don’t cry pretty girl, you're smudging your makeup.” 

You move your mouth quicker around Sam and you tap his thigh. He knows what this means from previous times and he immediately is spilling his come into your mouth. You swallow his come, his dick still in your mouth. You suck your spit off of his cock and pull him out of your mouth. Sam falls back onto your bed, panting and sensitive. “Let's get you cleaned up baby girl.”

AN//: Hey lovers! Third kinktober is finally here!! please enjoy and let me know if you would like to be added to the current tag list. stay horny and safe <3 - beee!

[saistappen]

First vacation together | MV1

In which Max and you spend your first vacation together

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

THE FIRST vacation together should be the one you remember forever.

The one you look back on with a smile and start to feel the butterflies coming up.

The vacation that you take loads of cheesy pictures of and stick them in a photo album to look back on years later.

Max and your first vacation together took you to St Tropez. Not too far from Monaco, your short vacation together should provide a few relaxing days, as Max is still in the middle of the Formula 1 season.

The Dutchman wants to spend the week's break he has before the Spanish Grand Prix with you on the beach, lying lazily on a lounger together and looking out over the water.

It should be the perfect getaway, where it's just the two of you and Max can spend a few days with his girlfriend to recharge his batteries for the next weekend.

"Are you ready for the beach? " Smiling, you lean your back against the wooden door frame and watch your friend apply the last of the sun cream to his skin.

Since the Dutchman, unlike you, has really pale skin, you've literally forced him to slather himself with sun cream so that he doesn't look like a crab at the end of the day.

" I just have to pack my towel. "

Max rubs the last of the white sticky cream on his arm before washing his hands.

"Nope, I've already done that, " you reply with a grin and pick up the light blue beach bag to show him once again that you've already thought of everything.

"You're in a hurry to get to the beach, huh? " he adds as he turns around and walks towards you. He stops in front of you and presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

"Oh, yes. But I don't think you can blame me, can you? After all, I only have a few intense days with my boyfriend where he's just mine until I have to share him again. "

The smile that creeps onto your lips only remains firm with difficulty. Because it's anything but easy to see your boyfriend so rarely.

Of course, you had already realized during your dating days that it wouldn't be easy to date a racing driver who flew around the world more than he was at home.

On the odd weekend, you were there live from time to time to support him on site. But your job as a florist didn't always allow for this, as you had to work every now and then, even at the weekend, when Max was sitting in his car and literally flying around the track.

But the rest of the days when you sleep alone in your bed in the apartment in Monaco, you miss your boyfriend especially.

Waking up or having breakfast together only comes into question on days off or during the summer and winter break, as well as a few other things that are standard for other couples.

But you enjoy these things, which are normal for other couples, even more intensely. And even the anticipation of embracing his partner again is twice as great.

" I can't blame you, no. Because I feel the same way," smiles the Dutchman, taking the beach bag from you and casually swinging it over his shoulder, his free right hand reaching for yours to intertwine your fingers.

And so you leave the bungalow hand in hand, which has a small pool and you can see the sea from afar, so you only have to walk twenty meters through the white sand to reach the beach.

If someone were to ask you what paradise is for you, you would probably answer 'This'.

While the waves crash softly in the background and every now and then a small wave gently laps against the shore, you make yourself comfortable on one of the deckchairs.

Your hands keep running through the thick hair of the Dutchman, who has laid his head in your lap and is dozing lightly.

You can still see the odd drop of water on his bare chest that the sun hasn't yet managed to dry.

After your short swim in the cool water - where you've frolicked more than anything else - you've been drawn back to the sun lounger, where you're now enjoying each other's company in the shade.

The beach is quite crowded, so the sound of children's laughter or the babble of voices carries over to you, but it doesn't bother you in the slightest.

"Hmm, this is so great," Max mumbles with his eyes closed in pleasure as your hand runs through his hair again and again.

The sun's rays have caused countless blonde strands to form in Max's hair, making it partially shiny in the sun.

His bare skin has also become a little more colorful, so you're sure he'll notice the difference in the next few days.

"I think so, but don't you dare fall asleep," you smile as your hand begins to run through his hair a little more slowly.

Some of the brunette strands are already sticking up on his head and you are sure that Max's hair will be a complete mess when you take your hand out of it.

"I won't, I promise," he yawns as he crosses his arms in front of his chest and pulls his legs a little closer to curl up slightly.

As he lies there, he has almost assumed an embryo position, which looks really cute, so you have to stifle a quiet 'Aww'.

As your left hand continues to run through his hair and Max's eyes remain closed, you take the opportunity to reach for your cell phone and take a photo of him.

However, you forget that you haven't set your phone to silent and as you take a photo, your phone starts to betray you, causing the Dutchman to open his eyes and lift his head so that your hand slips out of his hair.

"Did you take a photo of me? " he asks with mock indignation as he slowly sits up and looks at you.

A soft giggle leaves your lips. Max's hair is sticking out wildly from his head in all directions, so you can't really take your friend seriously.

"What's so funny? " he adds with a furrowed brow. "Are you trying to distract from the topic? "

"No, but your hair...". you continue to giggle and open the selfie camera on your phone to show him his hair.

But before you can hold the phone in front of him, Max has already taken your phone from you with the words "Wait a minute" and thrown it carelessly onto the couch next to you.

Before you can react, Max jumps up from the lounger and shortly afterwards he has already thrown you over his shoulder, eliciting a not-so-quiet and startled shriek from you.

"Max what - ", you start, but are interrupted as the Dutchman begins to run zigzag through the sand with the words " Ah! Hot ", which elicits another giggle from you.

But when Max starts to run through the water instead of the sand a few meters later, the giggles literally get stuck in your throat because you know exactly what he's up to.

"Noooo! Max stop! " You literally shriek as you start to prick his back with your fingers in the hope that the Dutchman will stop.

But that doesn't seem to do any good, as Max runs deeper and deeper into the water, so that a short time later his hips are covered in water and you put your hands up in the air so that they don't get touched by the cool water.

"Put me down ", you whine sulkily as Max stops.

"Are you sure? ", he raked.

You nod. "Yes."

But that was a mistake. Max's arms loosen around your body and shortly afterwards you sink into the cool water so that your whole body is enveloped by the water and you suddenly feel weightless as your body sinks slightly.

Underwater, you open your eyes in shock for a few seconds and start to flail your arms in panic until you realize that you can swim.

As your feet touch the bottom, you push off slightly in the sand and start to row with your arms to get back to the surface, where your friend is standing there grinning and just looking at you.

"You'll get that back, Verstappen! " you growl slightly, but start to grin shortly afterwards as Max begins to run through the water - which doesn't turn out to be all that easy - so that he starts to swim shortly afterwards.

You quickly start moving too and use all your strength to swim a little faster to reach your friend.

However, a gap quickly forms between you, as Max is a lot faster than you. But that's no reason for you to give up.

" What's the matter? Are you giving up yet? " Max calls to you with a grin as he floats in the water and turns his head back over his shoulder.

This is clearly a mistake, because you use this moment to gather the last of your strength and swim over to him.

A few meters in front of him, you dive underwater and shortly afterwards pull on the Dutchman's feet so that he goes under too.

Laughing, you surface and swim over to the shore to escape from Max.

But once again you misjudge yourself, as the Dutchman has already surfaced again and his strong arms wrap around your hips shortly afterwards and pull you close to him.

"You think you can just run away, don't you? " he breathes into your ear, causing goose bumps to spread over your body.

" It.., it was worth a try," you stammer, slightly flustered, as Max begins to place feather-light kisses on your shoulder.

"I'm freaking you out, huh? " he breathes between the countless kisses that he spreads on your shoulder and slowly kisses his way up to your neck.

Unable to say anything, you just start nodding.

"Say it, " he breathes.

"Y-you're upsetting me. " The words leave your mouth in a stammer as you spin around and look into Max's blue eyes, which slowly begin to fill with lust.

A smile forms on his full lips as his hands move up to your hips, where they find their place and he pulls you a little closer to him, so that you wrap your legs around his hips and clearly begin to feel that this doesn't exactly leave him cold either.

"That was my goal, " he breathes against your lips before he places his lips on yours and begins to kiss you intensely.

During the kiss, which tastes like a hint of seawater and lust, your heart begins to leap in his chest.

Your hands move up into his wet hair, where they intertwine and your body presses a little closer to the Dutchman's, causing him to let out a small gasp.

"You're driving me so crazy," he mumbles against your lips as he pulls away from you slightly. " We should go back to the bungalow and continue there. "

"That's a good idea, " you breathe against his lips as you feel Max slowly fight his way through the waves to the shore and carry you over to the bungalow, almost running.

And neither of you care that your towels and a few of your valuables are still lying on the loungers.

As Max carries you over to the balcony door of the bungalow, your lips begin to spread light kisses on the soft skin of his neck, causing the Dutchman to gasp softly.

With his foot, he deftly opens the balcony door that you had left ajar and shortly afterwards pushes it shut again behind him, so that it closes with a slight thud.

But neither of you pays much attention to the sound.

Shortly afterwards, you find yourself on the bed, Max bent over you as he begins to spread countless kisses over your half-naked body.

And so you give yourself completely to your boyfriend to take your relationship one step further for the first time.

Exhausted and out of breath, you snuggle into Max's arms, which he wraps around you and pulls you as close to him as possible.

You carefully rest your head on his chest so that you can clearly hear his heart beating a little faster.

"That was..." Max starts the sentence out of breath.

"Unbelievable," you finish the sentence with a grin as you bury the tip of your nose in Max's chest, which smells of sweat, salt water and Max.

You couldn't have imagined your first time with Max any better. Because today was really perfect and much better than you had imagined.

"Just as incredible as you," the Dutchman breathes as he rests his head on yours and your eyes start to flutter sleepily.

But before you can say anything back, your eyes close and you fall into a happy but dreamless sleep.

[d0youc0py]

Mentions of NSFW

It was your fault. You weren’t being present and reached to move a tray out of the way, not remembering that you had just taken it out of the oven. Before you could grasp it Simon’s hand flung forward gripping your arm a little tighter than he should have.

“Ouch.” You said instinctively. A pit formed in his stomach. He immediately let go.

“Fucking hell.” He grumbled. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart.” He apologized. His rich eyes were looking over you with worry.

“It’s alright, Si.” You assured. Your forearm throbbed, but you weren’t about to mention that to him.

“You sure?” His voice was soft and nervous. Like a child waiting to get yelled at by a parent. You nodded your head, leaning forward pressing a kiss on his check.

“I’m sure.”

<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>

It was the next morning and you were being woken up in the usual way. Butt pats. You groaned and buried yourself deeper into the chest you were sleeping on. “No.” You grumbled.

“Are you saying you don’t wanna see my handsome face?” God he had the best morning voice. You blew a raspberry into his chest. “Already starting off grumpy, yeah?” His hands finally left your bottom in exchange for tickling at you side.

“No!” You squealed, quickly sitting up.

“Now this is what I wake up for.” He smirked, resting his hands on your hips. Your rolled your eyes and rested your hands on his broad chest. His eyes quickly fled down wanting nothing more than to catch sight of that expensive wedding band on your finger. But something else caught his attention. He sat up quickly and your hands went grappling towards his shoulders to steady yourself. “No.” He murmured to himself. He grabbed your arm softly, suddenly you saw what he was talking about. Your heart sunk. Not because of what you saw, but because you knew he was going to beat himself up.

Two tiny bruises marked your skin, probably from his thumb and middle finger.

“Simon, please don’t beat yourself up.” You requested. His eyes were wide and you could practically hear his internal dialog. “It was an accident, you were trying to make sure I didn’t burn myself. Besides it’s not like this is the first time you’ve left bruises on me.” You joked. You have the bite marks on your thighs to prove it.

“It’s not the same.” He grumbled. “I didn’t mean to Sweetheart.” He looked at you and you couldn’t help but tear up. He looked so ashamed of himself.

“I know you didn’t.” You assured. “Please don’t let this ruin our day.” You pleaded. He was going to get shipped off in a few days. The both of you always seemed to get a little emotional beforehand. He nodded his head in agreement.

“I’ll make it up to you.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Pancakes?”

Between the fireplace and you cuddled up in his lap, he was melted into his chair. Your fingers traced along the jagged scar of his forearm. Every so often you would move your head to press a quick kiss to his collar bone.

“You ready to go upstairs?” You mumbled, barely even to keep your eyes open yourself. He shook his head.

“A few more minutes.” His mumbled back, his lips pressed against the side of your head. Your fingers left his arm, favoring to curl themselves into his soft shirt. His eyes began to began to droop. The cigar resting between his loose fingers dropped. His eyes flung open.

“Ah!” Your hands flung down, shooing the cigar away from your leg. You practically threw yourself off of his lap, your hand still brushing away the ashes.

“Shit!” He growled. He stomped out the cigar on the floor, ignoring the heat that seeped through his slipper. “You alright. Where’d I get you?” Before you could even tell him he scooped you up in his arms, carrying you to the kitchen, placing you down on the counter.

“Knee.” You replied. He dug around for the first aid kit, finding the burn cream. He winced as his saw a burn in the shape of a perfect circle marking your knee.

“I’m so sorry, Sweetheart.” Once he was done applying the cream he bandaged it, finishing it off with a kiss.

“It was an accident.” You cuddled yourself into his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around you.

“I’ve been meaning to give up smokin’ anyway.” He sighed. He peppered your whole head and face with kisses, making you giggle.

He actually did quit.

Mentions of NSFW

Mentions of death

You were normally a very sound sleeper. Especially with your boyfriends arms wrapped so protectively around you. The thing that normal helped you sleep, woke you up.

“Johnny.” You gasped. He always had one arm around your waist and the other arm was usually wrapped around you neck- something you struggled to get use to when you first started sharing a bed. His arms tightened around you, making it a challenge to breath. You began to squirm, hoping you could break free- or wake him up. You were no match for him. You couldn’t even move your arms, so you did the only thing you could think of. “Johnny!” It wasn’t the loudest you had ever yelled his name, but it did the trick. He gasped awake, his arms quickly leaving you. Your lungs sang as air filled them up again.

“Bonnie?” He whispered. So quiet you didn’t hear him. He was sitting up, watching you with teary eyes. He wasn’t sure what he had done, but he knew it wasn’t good. You heard a whimper next to you. You could make out his shaking figure, even in the pitch black room.

“Jo?” You whispered. You suddenly realized there must’ve been a reason he was squeezing you so hard. “You have a nightmare again?” He’s been having them more frequently since his last mission, you couldn’t get out of him why.

“I hurt you?” He whispered again. His fingers pulled at his messy hair. You quickly shook your head.

You sat up and scooted closer to him, resting your lips against his shoulder. “It didn’t hurt. It was a little tighter than one of your bear hugs, but it didn’t hurt.” You assured against him. He didn’t seem convinced.

“Can I hold you?” His voice was weak. It was like you were speaking to a stranger. You missed the growl he had in his voice. It always gave you goosebumps. You pulled his legs away from his chest and nuzzled your way into his lap. He pressed you against him, almost purring as he buried his face in your hair. “I’m so sorry.”

“Tell me what’s been bothering you. Please.” You wrapped your arms around him and squeezed. “I bet it’ll help you feel better.”

“You know I don’t like to tell you that stuff.” He lied. He loved to tell you what a badass he had been. He always made sure to leave out the gory bits though.

“Jo.” You begged. “I’m a big kid, I can handle it.” He sighed.

“Me and Simon were going through a warehouse and there was this woman laying on the ground.” A shiver ran through him. His eyes pressed themselves shut and he felt the same wave of nausea pass over him. He pressed on. “She had, expired.” You rolled your eyes at his choice of words. “I couldn’t see her face, but she had the same exact hair color as you. For a split second I thought she was you. I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. The thought of you laying on the hard ground. Cold, scared and alone.”

You didn’t even bother to hold back a tear. It explained everything. Why he came home early (he had told you it was because he had done such a great job). Why he hadn’t left your side for the past month (not that you were complaining). The nightmares.

“You don’t need to say anything.” He whispered. “I know you’re alive, and safe. It’s just an image I have to shake.” Telling you did make him feel better. “Can I still hold you while we sleep?” He asked.

“You better, Johnny. I have a hard time sleeping otherwise.”

[zxoaii]

Tease

fem! reader x Kento Nanami

Summary: Nanami gets even after a tease.

SMUT

WC: 1.7k

Find this and more on my wattpad!

Wattpad: _Bolter

[ Y/n ]

The crash of glass shattering on the floor startles me awake. My hands instinctively reach for the drawer next to the bed. As I fumble fearfully in the dark, a curse comes from the kitchen.

"Nanami?"

I get out of bed and make my way to the doorway. Nanami stands in the kitchen with his back to me. "I just broke something. Don't come over here barefoot."

I turn the kitchen light on for him. "I didn't want to wake you." He awkwardly moves to avoid looking at me. "You didn't want to wake me because you didn't want me to know you left the house or because you wanted to let me sleep?"

It's not a well-kept secret he's been sneaking out. Only it doesn't bother me as much as it should because I know he's working as a jujutsu sorcerer on the side.

"I thought you said you were done with all of that."

Nanami sighs and finally turns to face me. "Oh my god." My hands instinctively cup over my mouth. He's covered in blood.

"Not all of it's mine... And really it's just a superficial wound. It's just bleeding a lot."

He sweeps the glass up and dumps it into the trash. "It's not a big deal." I trail behind him as he makes his way to the bathroom.

I would ask but he wouldn't tell me. "Stop it. Sit down." Nanami stops digging through the cabinets and sits on the edge of the tub.

The first aid kit isn't even in the cabinets. It's in the closet. I grab it from the shelf and check the contents. Really, how am I supposed to treat him with this?

I set it down on the counter and wet a washcloth. Nanami can't hide the guilty look on his face. It would probably feel good to chew him out for this incredibly stupid thing he's doing.

When he went back to being a jujutsu sorcerer I thought he'd take it easy. After you almost die and decide to retire you usually learn a lesson. I guess he didn't.

The cloth cleans the blood off of his face. Did he really think he could hide this from me? I tilt his head to wipe blood out of his hair.

"It wasn't supposed to be this bad."

"You don't need to explain yourself."

It's hard not to be incredibly pissed at him. And at the same time, it's hard to not find him incredibly sexy sitting here while I fix him up.

I drop the cloth into the sink and open the first aid kit. He'd probably be better off with stitches. Instead, I grab rubbing alcohol, antibiotic cream, and some bandaids.

I search around the bathroom for our cotton pads to clean the wound with. "You're killing me in that dress." He should be used to a slip and some underwear by now.

I grab the box of cotton pads and bring them back over to him. "It might be easier if you sit on my lap." He isn't actually making moves right now, is he?

"Stop it."

I drench the pad in the alcohol and tilt his chin up. "I'm serious." His hand reaches up to grip my hip as I start cleaning the cut. He's pushing it.

"Hold still." I pass over the cut several times until it looks mostly clean. The bathroom light isn't great for looking at these things. "Sorry, you were just the closest thing to me." Nanami's hand falls off my hip.

I take the cream and apply it over the entire cut. There's more than he needs but hopefully, it will negate anything I missed while cleaning it out.

"Sweetheart, come on." Nanami runs his hands down my waist and hips while I find the largest bandaid we have. "Don't do this to me. Just give me something." The rip of the package replaces the response he wanted from me.

I place the bandaid on his forehead. My hands cup his face, caressing his cheeks gently. It's too hard to not give him anything.

He holds my ass as I lean in to kiss him. My hands slide back into his hair. There's no rush to the way he kisses me. Nanami's mouth is dangerously addictive.

It's almost painful to pull away from him just as he starts to take it further.

"What?" He looks up at me from his seated position. This punishment is equally bad for me. "You're not getting anything tonight." His hands fall to the edge of the tub as I walk back to the bedroom.

"And you should shower too," I add as I shut the bathroom door. If I caught a glimpse of him showering after I told him we wouldn't be having sex, it might actually kill me.

The bed welcomes me back. I can hear Nanami mumbling curses in the bathroom. It just has to be this way.

.  .  .

"I'm back!" The door shuts behind me with a click. I carry the groceries to the counter by myself. Usually, Nanami takes a couple of bags for me when I get home.

He walks out of the bedroom with his tie in hand. "Where are you going?" I ask as I start grabbing things from the bags. "Nowhere."

"Really?" I put my things down as he approaches me. "It's for you." My brows furrow as he holds it out. "What?"

"Put your hands out."

What's his point? I hold my hands out for him, palms up. Nanami closes my fingers into fists and then starts tying the tie around my wrists.

"Kento-"

He presses a kiss onto my forehead and then guides me back to our bedroom. Is this happening? "Do you enjoy teasing me?"

The pieces click in my head. He's still mad about the other night. Oh... I'm so in for it.

"Do you?" His fingers work away at my shorts while he speaks. "I couldn't reward bad behavior." Nanami pulls my underwear off with my shorts.

"That's not an answer. Open your mouth."

He holds two fingers up to my lips. I open my mouth and he places them inside. "Good. Now suck them. You're going to want them to be wet." I suck his fingers shamelessly until he removes them from my mouth.

"I'm going to ask you again. Do you enjoy teasing me?" It's hard to focus with the sexual tension in this room. "Yes." The word falls from my lips once, twice, and then a pathetic third time.

Nanami wipes some spit off my chin with his thumb. He nods. My breaths come rapidly. I can't take this. My legs spread further across the bed.

I choke out a moan as he presses his fingers into me. My hands pull at the restraint. "Look at me." My head is turned to the side, my eyes are squeezed shut. "Look at me." Nanami coos tauntingly.

I force myself to look up at him. His fingers pump in and out of me at a steady pace. Still, it's not nearly enough. "You're so desperate aren't you?" There's no point in not giving him what he wants.

I want it too.

"Oh god, yes."

Nanami pulls his fingers out of me. A frustrated sigh is all I can respond with. My body reacts to every minor touch. His fingers grab the collar of my shirt.

"Don't-"

His arms flex as he tears it down the middle. His lips meet my neck and then my collarbone. All I can do is lay there and moan desperately. I need more.

"Nanami..."

His name comes out as a breathy sigh. It hurts to not be able to grab at his hair his shirt or his pants. I squirm as he kisses down my chest to my stomach.

How is he not going insane right now with me?

My lust starts to turn to desperation. I can't handle any more of this. "Just fuck me." Nanami raises his brows at me. "Sorry?"

Hot blush rushes across my cheeks. "Please just fuck me." The hunger in his eyes grows wilder at my begging. "Well..." He unbuckles his belt and drops it onto the floor.

I can't see as well as I want to but the sounds of him undoing his pants drive me just as wild. He leans over me on the bed. "And your shirt."

"My shirt?" I reach up and grab at his shirt. Nanami stands up, pulling away from my grasp. He takes his time unbuttoning his shirt.

I take in what I can. I hate the way being a jujutsu sorcerer almost kills him. But I have to give it credit for keeping him so fucking fit.

His muscles tense and flex as he leans over me again. "Say it one more time." Our eyes lock in a lustful trance.

"Please fuck me."

Nanami gives a small nod and grabs my hip with one hand. The way he does that drives me crazy. He doesn't waste time starting slow.

My moans echo through the room as Nanami thrusts into me relentlessly. His free hand grips my thigh. It will bruise tomorrow and he'll kiss me there. That thought drags another moan out of me.

"Don't stop." With nothing else to do my nails dig into my palms. Nanami's gruff moans start to mix in with mine.

One of my legs wraps around his hip, allowing him to hit a different angle. He adjusts too. Nanami slows his pace slightly and thrusts deeper.

I watch as his head falls back. His moans and curses turn me on in ways no one before him ever has. He drops my thigh and grabs my hand, pinning them above my head.

Nanami leans in closer while he holds my hands. His lips tease mine for a moment before finally kissing me. I drink up his taste like it's the only thing keeping me alive.

My stomach begins to tighten with overwhelming pleasure. Nanami continues to his me as I moan louder. My wrists are pressed harder into the mattress.

"That's it." He presses desperate kisses along my neck as I give in to my orgasm. "Good girl." Nanami drops my hands and sits back up.

"Good girl, just one more minute."

My head digs back into the mattress as my back arches up. His moans become more and more strangled with each minute that passes. I watch as he presses a hand against his forehead.

"Fuck, Y/n... Goddamnit." His hand falls onto my stomach as he finishes. The room falls silent except for our ragged breathing.

After a moment Nanami brushes his hair out of his face. He licks his lips and looks down at me.

"I enjoy teasing you too."