#he wears his suit more casually to
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me when i die forever but not rlly
#reddoons#lifesteal smp#lifesteal s6#my boooooooy#i missed him#alien_art2#i genuinely forgot how to draw him it’s been so long#anyway i rlly like the idea that his hair got longer after he was revived#but i wasn’t feelin full ponytail length#he wears his suit more casually to#<- me giving him behaviors i display when i’m depressed but get overly anxious about keeping up appearances so everything’s becomes worse#he is perfect
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since so many people now appear to be part of the "Stan Pines is hot" club, I gotta ask...
Which Stan appearance is the hottest
(also reblogging for larger sample size is appreciated)
#stanley pines#gravity falls#polls#fits i didn't include due to them being pretty similar to ones on this list include:#what he wears when trying to steal will e badger & what he wears to watch ducktective in dungeons dungeons & more dungeons#also his stanchurian candidate fit that's just his usual clothes + the mind control tie#I almost included when he's pretending to be ford but that almost doesn't feel like a Stan Look#then again if I did a similar poll for ford I might include when he's wearing the suit so idk#i would've put the suit with & without the fez as separate options but alas limited number of options#and also those are very similar (more so than the options i didn't include for being too similar)#same with his suit but when it's like casual (like jacket & tie undone)#you can pick any of these ones i didn't include i'm just explaining why some of them aren't there#if someone already made this poll i'm sorry i didn't know#s0dabeach post
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Tokucember Day 19: Anniversary
I didn't really know how to interpret this one but uh Kuuga turns 25 next month sooooo old goichi for you today. Ichijo would be turning 51 this year, cute right? In 2025 godai has a smartphone but hasn't quite mastered selfie taking :)
Full pic under the cut:
#kamen rider kuuga#godai yusuke#ichijo kaoru#art#my post#tokucember#some hcs:#i think ichijo would have some bigger noticeable scars from the grongi encounters and dangerous police cases#and then it contrasts with godai who has none because of the amada- *cries*#i also feel like godai would get like tattoos on his travels esp if it was like cultural#but idk if he could like would the amadam just break down the ink or what#thoughts thinking#idk if i 100% ascribe to godai having longer hair and a beard i kinda just wanted to vary up the look. but maybe i dont hate the idea#also i have a lot of thoughts about godai and technology#also ik it looks like ichijo is wearing a suit but its actually a button up and cardigan its 2025 he has more casual clothes by now#i clarify because its important TO ME#but ughh i struggled so hard with this one today and honestly id like redo it if i could but ig one of the good things about tokucember#is like you get one day then just move on dont dwell on it you will make so much art in your life hopefully not everything has to be great
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*lovingly tackles Aine*
Read my Yandere! Pierro longfics first ♪( ´▽`)
Last week, my beloved mutual @ainescribe surprised me with Savior! Darling fan art and AHAI9232@2-!/! CRYING SCREAMING I WANT TO LOOK AT THIS ART AND WORSHIP YOUR VERSION OF SAVIOR THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BLESSING ME WITH YOUR ART—
*clears throat* Anyway, now that I finally have the time to properly sit down and comment on the fan art, I’ll do just that. Feedback will be in the tags and it will be unhinged. Once again, thank you so much to Aine for drawing this <3
#feedback#fan art#pranabefall#AIIINE ;-; once again. thank you so much!! it rlly means a lot to me that you enjoyed my writing and felt inspired to draw this :'>#and as someone who loves fashion and character design. it's so so interesting to analyze your version of savior#there's so much symbolism and visual storytelling in each sketch/ outfit and i shall now proceed to pick apart each detail as best as i can#her snezhnayan fit.....god i love it. it's regal. distinctively snezhnayan. and draws attention to her--and you just know that was pierro's#intention when he dressed her in those garments. IT'S JUST SO...!! savior's wardrobe scrubbed clean of her original culture and preferences#replaced with the foreign garments of her captor's nations.....in line with this. i love how her kokoshnik and khaenri'ahn earrings are big#and attention-grabbing. you can't look at her without taking note of those accessories. it begs the question:: how many times has savior#looked at the mirror after being dressed up in snezhnaya and was unable to recognize her own reflection?? :'>#also shoutout to some details aine shared with me: 1) the face marks are inspired by weeping angels 2) the kokoshnik was traditionally worn#by married noblewomen BUT the veil was normally for unmarried women so savior's outfit can be seen as a form of compliance + rebellion#(though later on in history it became accepted for married women to also wear that veil. also my apologies if what i said is inaccurate)#lastly shoutout to savior's expression!! very poised and mysterious....due to her emotional state or pierro's rules on how to act as his#spouse in public?? we'll never know~ the first drawing hits even harder when you compare it to the next one!! such an interesting contrast~#savior in her plain attire. casual and domestic with a smile on her face....i'm guessing this is her pre-fatui version?? she looks so warm#and friendly. and i can definitely understand why pierro fell for her smile <3#also i fucking love the caption. sorry pierro but you are cursed to be a loser/ simp/ pathetic man in all of my fics and AUs xD#NOW ONTO GODDESS! SAVIOR AAAHHHH!! i love the greek goddess motifs. she looks so regal and awe-inspiring but in a different way from her#snezhnayan attire--archaic. divine. and more suited to her personal style.....yet both versions of her look so painfully isolated :'>#her blank eyes. emotionless face. and veil give me the vibes of a spooky victorian ghost...or would a statue/ portrait be more fitting??#the lack of a necklace is also an interesting design choice given what happens in the fic. and now i realized i forgot to comment on your#version of her snezhnayan necklace oops. similar to the kokoshnik and earrings. the size + grandeur makes it impossible to ignore#that and big jewels = expensive af. ohhh and i love the sparkles on her veil!! pierro rlly spared no expense in dressing up his wifey <3#it's also funny how all of these outfits are similar to my own version in terms of 'savior wore grand clothing during her glory days as a#goddess -> wore simple attire after her decline for practicality and to blend in with humans/ disassociate from her old identity -> is now#dressed in even grander clothing as the harbinger's spouse. but it's used to reinforce her new identity and pierro's control over her'#tldr:: your design is so creative and i can see the effort you put in analyzing her character and depicting her based on your interpretatio#thank you for being my mutual + reader and i hope we can share even more harbinger/darling brainrot in the future :>
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The most important phase of any sewing project: moodboard
#a colleague is commissioning some vests for evening wear#so I went through his photos on Facebook and it turns out that his 2 modes are#light academia OR dark queer alchemy#like I’m talking mustard tan warm browns#or lapis lazuli fluorite and knowledge of the arcane#I want to get this man into a deep teal suit with gold accents so badly#there’s an intermediary aesthetic of 60s/70s swinger also but that’s more a select number of graphic button downs#which are more casual#his formal aesthetic is decidedly more dapper#but if he wants an evening vest in a groovy ass graphic print I will let him cook!!!#the pond of sartorial anachronism
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Fashion wise, what is your favorite historical period?
Hmmmm this is hard honestly, cause I can be convinced into any if I see enough pics/paintings tbh. I really like anything post ~1630s or so(I HATE THOSE RENNAISSANCE ERA PANTALOONS) Also oops idk much abt women's fashion bcs I like men's clothing a lot more ;;;; I love suits. love wearing suits. Yeah.
I feel very fond obviously of late 1600s-early 1700s obviously bcs of boy king au. I like how pre-19th century, men's and women's clothing feels pretty evenly matched(in terms of flamboyance and detail.) So much embroidery and ruffles and everything. And I really like breeches, how high waisted they are. I guess I really like the cut of the clothes. Also Napoleonic era, so important to me, I love how high waisted the breeches are, the stockings, the tailed coats, and everything yknow???
I also really like late 1800s-early 1900s as well, mostly bcs of Leyendecker's art. Like if you've seen Oppenheimer, the suits he wears before Los Alamos are soooo perfect to me. I really like how flattering they are to the body, small waist, long legs, broad shoulders aahhhh!!!
If only it were socially acceptable to wear suits all the time 🤧 I find modern fashion to be pretty boring, even if easier
Anyways this is historical me if you even care:
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Cofi told me this painting looks like me 😔 true tbh
#lmfao i just saw sam's answer to this exact i love how different mine is hahaha#i think when we get into more modern eras its too recent if that makes sense?#like i like the 80s but idk if i like the general fashion of it. but i like what my parents wore back then yknow#i dress casually most of the time and enjoy it obviously#but i also get sad when i realize we used to dress 'formally' all the time 🤧 i like it a lot better#but ONLY if i could wear a suit okay...#but yeah mainly i like 1690-1930 or so#roman era is also pretty great honestly#also i say 1690 but i do like some stuff before that if only bcs of Antony van Dyke's paintings#<- they are SOOOOOOOO!!!!!! to me#whenever i think abt seb wearing nando's style of clothing in boy king au i think of his paintings#bcs he painted a lot of spanish court wear(all black w white collars) and i love it honestly#thats the pic i included hahaha#pls though lets bring back 3 piece suits and super high waisted pants(for men)#theyre so !!!!!!#catie.asks.
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Have you ever wanted to make a crossover between two different pieces of media you like, but you also know there'd be nowhere you could share it because the two pieces of media are so different that the overlap between their two fan bases would have to be vanishingly small?
Anyway I spent the better part of an hour taking one of the main characters from Disco Elysium (an entirely dialogue-driven crpg made by Estonian communists) and recreating him in the style of Choices: Stories You Play (one of those visual novel apps that made those "divorce or pee in her mouth" ads that were inescapable a few years ago)
#I made Kim Kitsuragi if you're wondering who I was making#For the face I used the handome Asian man sprite that shows up in practically every story#More specifically I started with the standard suit version from his first appearance in Veil of Secrets but I added his glasses#but I added the glasses from his model in Guinevere#Then to recreate Kim's orange jacket I took the jacket from Adam's casual sprite from America's Most Eligible#and edited it over top of the standard suit jacket that the Veil of Secrets character was wearing#I'm pretty sure that's supposed to be a brown leather jacket but it's the most orange jacket I could think of#Also Kim doesn't wear a tie but I was too lazy to edit out the tie he was already wearing#I also wanted to make Cuno but I couldn't find a sprite that looked like the right age and had freckles
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m-m-maybe obx actress!reader showing up to the premiere of queer, and she’s the only one from the obx cast to attend. no one knows if everyone else was just busy or drew didn’t invite them, but she’s there. there are pics of each of them alone on the carpet, but the fans are more interested in the pictures of them off to the side. drew’s got one hand wrapped around her waist while the other circles her shoulders and obx actress!reader is fully encapsulated in a hug. it’s clear how much drew appreciates her presence at the event and he’s seen grinning down at her, the pair sharing secretive whispers. cameras even catch daniel giving obx actress!reader a familiar hug, her having visited the set of queer more than once (not to mention drew’s constant rambling about her). when the pics circulate on social media the fans go wild, reading in to her presence at the premiere and catching on to the fact that her colourful dress seems to compliment his outfit just right. don’t even get the fans started on the matching bracelets the pair wear, drew’s own bracelet peeking out under his suit jacket cuff. maybe it’s just casual coworkers celebrating and supporting one another… or maybe not.
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Inspired by miss girl herself, Queen Carlacia
#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey x actress!reader#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey x oc#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey x you#drew starkey#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#rafe cameron imagine#outer banks x reader#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#rafe imagine#obx actress!reader#actress!reader#drew x reader#drew imagine#rafe cameron
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everyone’s talking about nerd gojo (thank you @to00fu for the meal), but what about nerd nanami? and i’m not talking about just any nerd nanami, im talking about letterboxd nerd! nanami —
who wears a “directed by quentin tarantino” tshirt under his suit because he's a bit embarassed about unironically liking this type of merch, and who actually reads through all the letterboxd published articles from cover to cover.
his profile is so organised and he leaves such beautifully written and critical reviews that people who read it go crazy and spam the review’s comments section with “who is this diva 😭” and “WHO LET BRO COOK 🗣️” (he doesn’t understand the meaning of these phrases, but yuuji told him they’re positive phrases so he lets them be).
he's very selective about who he follows — a few of his irl's do know he's on letterboxd, but when they ask him for his profile he does not bother entertaining them. it's not that he's ashamed of his profile or taste, he just likes to keep his irl's seperate from his online activity.
letterboxd nerd! nanami is heavily against piracy, and he refuses to opt for the “easy way out” when it comes to watching regional films. (he once took a flight all the way to paris on a weekday just to watch a movie that hadn't started international screening).
not to mention, he has a lot of friends that are directors, producers, script-writers, actors etc…it's not even a flex, he was genuinely the most supportive figure in their lives when they were starting out, and often times he gets free tickets or VIP passes to special movie screenings as a way of thanks.
letterboxd nerd! nanami is always one of the top three or five reviews in most trending movies on letterboxd, but imagine his horror when casual letterboxd user! reader bests his review and pushes him down to seventh place.
the horror.
and it's not even a “good” review, as nanami says — it's just a rant about how hot the cast is. and for some outrageous reason, everyone seems to be upvoting your poorly written review instead of his meticulously detailed review about the script writing, acting, soundtrack, camera angles…you get what i mean.
naturally, letterboxd nerd! nanami is pissed.
and he's even more so when he realizes that casual letterboxd user! reader doesn't even log films on the daily — no, it seems more like you just remember this app exists and then log in whatever you just watched. you didn't even bother putting up a profile picture up until yesterday. and why the hell have you rated most of the disney movies a 5/5? do you not know what an objective rating is?
letterboxd nerd! nanami, after stalking your watched list, prays you never come online to log your films again. he can't afford to be bested by you again. until he sees a notification that makes him groan out loud in annoyance —
y/ncore has started following you.
bonus: nerd gojo and letterboxd nerd! nanami are mutuals and close friends on letterboxd (under aliases of course), but both of them hate each other irl — nerd gojo mocks him for spending time on “lame” things like movies, while letterboxd nerd! nanami scoffs at his blatant attitude of “not appreciating cinema.”
#works ★#jjk headcanons#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#nanami headcanons#nanami kento headcanons#jjk crack#jujutsu kaisen crack#nanami crack#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x female reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader#kento nanami x y/n#nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami x y/n#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x y/n#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x gender neutral reader#kento x reader#kento x y/n#kento x you#kento nanami x you#kento nanami x reader
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Hey, @confused-they, this is for you and for everyone else who wanted more of this AU. Merry Christmas.
DPxDC Ring of Rage? More Like Ring of Engage [pt. 4]
[<- part 3]
[Written to 'Tantrum' by Ashnikko]
TW: mentioned mild gore (some inside parts become outside ones, nothing graphic)
Tim can't breathe.
Joker's mad laughter is ringing through the darkness of the warehouse, echoing in his head, the screeching sound straight out of nightmares. Hood should be nearby - as in, somewhere in this darkness along with him - but Tim can't think about that, his own maniacal giggles bubbling in the back of his throat, a grin tugging at his lips.
He has to get up. He has to stand, he has to fight, and it really shouldn't be this hard.
But he can't breathe.
Tim clutches his fingers on the fabric of his suit on the chest, distantly wondering if this is how Danny feels when he is more human than ghost. Probably not, he mentioned that breathing is only optional.
He really wants his boyfriend right now. His fiance. Whatever, he wants Danny, he wants his cold hands on his cheeks and the faint, humming purr of his core that Tim finds nice to fall asleep to, and-
Maybe later. He can't exactly summon him now, not in the middle of a fight, especially not in the middle of a fight with Joker of all people.
There's an angry growl somewhere to Tim's left, staticky through the voice-modulator. Then several sounds of gunshots and a gleeful, taunting yell of the madman.
Hold on.
Tim snaps his eyes open - not that anything changes, everything is still pitch-black around him - and blinks.
Why not?..
It's not like Danny is a civilian. Tim tends to pay little attention to the fact since the King of Infinite Realms doesn't hang out with the whole superhero convention on principle. But Tim is pretty sure he won't mind it this once.
Besides, Tim is so done with Joker that it's not even funny.
A few breathy chuckles escape his throat as he lets his body fully slump back on the floor and brings his left hand to his face, placing a quick kiss on the Ring through his glove. He doesn't need to do that, not really, but it's kind of a ritual at this point, and the gesture somehow makes him feel better.
"Danny," he whispers.
For a long moment, nothing happens.
Then, there's a soft, popping sound, and his beautiful boyfriend is floating right over him, faintly glowing and a little sleepy. Tim is momentarily distracted by his bare feet and pj pants with tiny rockets on them.
Danny yawns and tugs the hem of his t-shirt down as it starts to float. "Whas'sup," he mutters, rubbing his eyes and clearly not fully awake, and Tim's heart melts instantly. He loves Danny. He just... He loves him, okay? He loves that Danny didn't question his summons for a moment, he loves that he came even though he was obviously sleeping, and he loves that Danny is wearing a tee he stole from Tim.
Unfortunately, before he is able to get his shit back together, another sound of gunshot ripples through the air, and Danny startles, blinking himself awake and looking in the direction of it. Then, his eyebrows shoot up, and his mouth makes a soft 'O' shape before he turns back to Tim and tilts his head in question.
"You want me to deal with him? The clown, I mean, not your brother," he asks, and it's so casual and off-handed that Tim actually huffs a laugh.
"Sorry, I was just- I'm really tired of his ass," Tim should probably sit up, this is not a talk they should have while he is lying on the ground. On the other hand, Jason is somewhere out there, and he has guns and doesn't have a clear visual around him, so maybe Tim shouldn't sit up.
Danny hums, "Is that a yes?"
Tim just nods. He is pretty sure Danny can see him despite the darkness. "I promise it's a one-time thing, I don't plan on calling you every time one of local lunatics acts up. I just... I fucking can't with him," he admits with a defeated sigh. But, before he can spiral any further into the abyss of unworthiness, Danny's cold hands are cupping his cheeks, and his icy eyes are looking right into Tim's sky blue.
"Love, I don't mind getting rid of each and every one of your Rogues. Granted, it would probably fuck up the timeline, and Clocky would be mad, but I'd do it if you want me to, no questions asked." His voice is quiet, and Tim has never been more grateful for his domino mask, because he can feel his cheeks heating up and he doesn't want Danny to see the exact effect his words are causing.
"I- Okay," he quietly agrees, and then blinks, backtracking, "Wait, no, don't fuck up the timeline. Just deal with the laughing bitch this once, and that's it. We can handle the rest."
Danny is smiling at him in that adoring way Tim recognizes as 'I really want to kiss you, but it's not the time or place'. Then, he nods and lets go of Tim's cheeks, straightening up in the air, and his clothes shift all at once, like a magic trick.
Gone are the stretched out t-shirt and the pants with rocket ships. In their place, Danny's body is head to toe covered in stars and galaxies that hold the vague shape of armor, and there's a slightly shimmering, blueish-green translucent cape over one of his shoulders.
The Crown over his head, the sentient artifact much like the Ring on Tim's finger, appears from nowhere, and, after a brief pause - Tim swears it was debating on whether or not the situation is worth the effort - promptly sets itself on fire. Blue flames cast long shadows on Danny's, no, King's face, making him look older and his cheekbones sharper.
Before, the boy was only faintly glowing, and, evidently, the others present in the warehouse were too distracted to notice him.
But now, with the flaming Crown casting dancing shadows on the walls of the warehouse, it's really hard not to see the otherworldly being making an appearance.
"Holy fuck," Tim hears Hood's quiet, astonished voice, and almost cracks a grin.
Yeah, he wants to say, that's my boyfriend. Although he suspects he and Jason are having vastly different reactions to Danny's presence. Because Tim kind of wants to take all his words about dealing with Joker back and take Danny home, straight to bed.
...He is going to have to strangle Jason in his sleep if his reaction is similar. No, that's a wrong thought, this is so not the time for it.
"Who are you, flying glowstick?" Joker sounds rightfully pissed off by the interruption, "Does Batsy employ alien kids now?"
Danny chuckles, the starry freckles on his cheeks glowing brighter, "Okay, just because you compared me to an alien, I'm not going to completely erase you from this plane of existence."
Tim snaps his head up.
"Wait, no killing," he reminds, not because he actually cares but because B would throw a fit. Danny brushes him off with a wave of his hand.
"No worries, he'll stay alive," he smiles at Tim, and to everyone else, it probably looks like stuff of nightmares, sharp, pointy teeth and lips stretched out far beyond human capabilities. But Tim sees it for what it is: a face of mischief.
"Do I get a vote in this?" Jason's deadpan voice comes from somewhere on the other side of the warehouse at the same moment as Joker screeches in rage, "Who the fuck do you think-"
"Nope," Danny pops the 'p', and Tim is not sure if he is answering to Hood or refusing to listen to the clown's monolog by it. Maybe it's both. It's probably both.
The next moment, Danny is gone, disappeared from the place he was floating at, and Tim hears a wet, very unpleasant sound followed by Joker's scream of pain.
"You see this?" He hears Danny's nonchalant, unfazed voice above the clown's pained cries, "This is your rib, bitch- Hey, quit whining and listen to me, it's important."
There's a slap, a rustle, and a sound of ripping fabric, and Joker's voice becomes muffled, like someone put a gag in his mouth.
"You're like Adam now, you know, lacking one rib," Danny continues, "Only I'm not making you a girl out of this one, I'm pretty sure you don't deserve to reproduce. Anyway, going further down that metaphor, I'm the God almighty in this situation, so if you want to keep the rest of your ribs - and the rest of other things that are supposed to stay inside of you - to yourself, you gotta do a thing for me, okay?"
There's some muffled groans that Joker makes in response, then an enraged growl, a sound of a struggle, another slap, and then that same wet, disgusting squelch.
"Two ribs, wow, okay, you're really being difficult about this!" Danny sounds so innocently dumbstruck about it that Tim suppresses a laugh. "Are you listening now?" There's a quiet, choking wheeze that answers him, and Danny sounds quite pleased when he says, "Great."
Tim debates if he should look. He doesn't exactly want to since the sounds provide enough context, but it might be somewhat cathartic for him.
And then the air around him inexplicably shifts, becoming cold and oppressive, weighting Tim down like a heavy blanket and pushing him into the floor. The dancing shadows and the blue light of flames on the walls twist and churn, like taking aim, and Tim doesn't know what Danny looks like right now but he knows he is as far from human as possible, his voice coming with a staticky, echoing whisper, a threatening hiss slithering inside Tim's ears.
"Play your little games all you want, Fallen Jester, but know that you can not win. The punchline to your joke is long overdue, and your soul has belonged to me for quite some time now," his words are cold and uncaring, and in all the time Tim has known his boyfriend, he has never heard him speak like this: with a sense of lazy power, like he is only humoring the people around him.
Like they mean nothing to him.
"I will not kill you, or at least not here and now. My Guiding Star doesn't want to see my hands dirty with your filthy remains. Besides, death is only a moment, and you don't deserve only a moment of suffering," he huffs a short, humorless chuckle, "But, luckily, I am the Eyes of the Universe, the Titan's Bane, the King of the Dead, and everyone will meet me once their eyes fall shut for the last time," there's a smile in his voice now, full of cold and merciless anticipation. Tim feels a shiver run down his spine.
"So just you wait, Jester, and I will meet you on the other side. Then we'll see how whatever is left of your soul is going to spend an eternity."
Tim's ears are ringing with the pure, somehow gleeful hatred that laces those last words. He didn't know he could literally taste the disgust and the promise of pain, and yet, here he is, with a hint of something sour on his tongue.
And then, the heavy, weighted air that has been charged with power is lifted, the shadows and bright blue lights are all gone, and Danny, wearing his pj's and smiling, is standing over him. His feet are planted on the ground for once, and the Crown is gone without a trace, but his t-shirt is still trying to float up. The boy tugs it down again, offering a hand to Tim.
"Wanna go out for a burger since I'm already here in Gotham?"
Tim had never breathed easier in his life. He laughs a little and reaches up, taking his beautifully unhinged boyfriend's hand and standing up.
"I thought you'd never ask."
#danny phantom#dpxdc#dc x dp#tim drake#joker#tim x danny#dead tired#ring of rage#writing a fight scene in gotham?#stick'em in a warehouse#idk its convenient#jason todd#ghost king danny#eldritch danny#he kept the ribs btw#jason later asked him for one of them#danny traded it for jason's helmet because souvenirs#cork prompts#ficlet
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HOT MILF NEXT DOOR
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──── Kento, Toji, Sukuna x f!reader.
cw. age gap ( all characters are 25-29 and reader around 44-46 ) , creampie , breeding kink , trophy wife cheating on your husband with a younger plumber Toji ( Megumi doesn't exist ), oral, rough sex with Sukuna ( you babysit Yuuji ) uncle Sukuna.
original full post in the title, I had to re post this bit because I deleted the original reblog by accident. this is mostly just to back up
hot dilf next door out now 𖥔 satoru, suguru, choso version 𖥔 genshin version
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KENTO !
the faint mark of a ring around your finger, the soft thud of boxes being left on the sidewalk, all leading to the moment your youngest child finally moves to college, sharing teary goodbyes and hugs as you wave them one last time. so, you’re finally alone...
Kento is not a creep, nor does he intend to sneak his way into your heart the moment you’re finally alone, no, he wants to offer nothing but support.
he walks to your home with easy steps, casual and unconsciously wearing his best suit, not that he wants to impress you, it’s just a coincidence.
“you’re so mature for your age” is what you say, and everyone does, to be honest, but somehow coming from you is not that bad anymore, does that mean you could actually give him a chance?
a tray of freshly baked cookies is placed upon your kitchen counter, a gift from Kento that’s now long forgotten, too busy listening to your complaints with no ill intentions behind them, just sharing how though life has gotten, but don’t worry, Kento has promised to stick with you.
you’re such a pretty woman to cry, each one of your tears tugging at his heartstrings, and his rough and large hands are the perfect comfort for your aching heart.
none of you actually notice when the atmosphere changes, when your soft sighing against his neck turned into whimpers of pleasure by having two of the man’s fingers knuckle deep in your cunt, rapidly dragging the tips across your fluttering inner walls and palm eagerly rubbing your swollen, needy clit.
“that’s it, gorgeous, you’re doing so well” all you need is some relief, of your burdens and sexual tension building up from so long, Kento is more than happy to help, gently scissoring his fingers into your pussy, a bit more stretch so you can accommodate his cock next. you look much better when you’re crying in pleasure, pawing on his shoulders while guiding the thick head of his cock to push past the slight resistance of your pussy, every little vein throbbing and massaging the ache inside.
gushing pussy, welcoming every inch into the depths of your body, almost immediately starting to suck on the girth, squishing your soft breasts against the toned and smooth expanse of Kento’s chest, each muscle rubbing on your nipples so addictively sweet your pussy pulses even more.
the blonde has often mentally slapped himself for lewdly thinking how you’d look fucked, although the image in his head could not compare to the real thing, forcing his load to blow as deep as possible into your sweet pussy, hands on your soft hips, grinding you down until you squeak and cum, creating a bigger white-ish mess on your laps with the diluted semen seeping out of you.
instead of sulking in your sadness, you should ride his cock more often.
TOJI !
working several jobs at once was never an easy chore, but the black haired managed, one had to do whatever it took for some money. and the fancy apartment building you lived was something he could only dream about, compared to his shabby room where he just slept and jerked off to the thought of you.
“where is the leak?” his rough voice echoes, contrasting with the way too fancy and perfect state of your penthouse, fixing his thick denim pants with a tool belt attached, attempting to hide the bulging erection at the sight of you on that flimsy robe you loved to wear.
you’re so soft, with gorgeous curves as you guide him into the kitchen, are you swinging your hips just for him, or is it his lust clouded imagination?
“would you like something to drink?” you offer so sweetly, already grabbing a glass while Toji slides under the kitchen sink, checking the... perfectly maintained pipelines.
with a raised brow, he stays there, pretending to fix a non existent leak, “a lemonade would be good, thank you, doll” he tries, hoping that little nickname will bring him good luck later. the way his thighs spread when he hears you around is definitely made on purpose, can you see how hard he is for you?
once the... job was done, Toji sips on his cooling drink, eyes scanning the adjacent living room where a framed picture of you and your husband hangs, he’s too old, and you’re clearly a trophy wife.
“how much do I owe you?” you bat your eyelashes, and the flutter mimics the pulsing of his cock.
“don’t worry about it, doll, is not a big deal” Toji attempts to play his cards, hitting on your heart first with a closer step, checking your reactions.
“oh, please, Toji...” it’s a low purr and you’re doing it on purpose, “at least let me thank you for your help”
what a little minx, with soft manicured hands on his broad chest, eyes cute and filled with lust while staring up at him, a pretty thing like you needs to get fucked, and it seemed like you needed it bad.
the framed family picture smiles down at your bent over form, robe flipped open, panties pooling around one of your ankles and Toji’s thick cock plunging into your soaked hole, earning a very slight spank on a jiggling ass cheek, “take it, doll, fuckin’ take this cock in your gorgeous pussy”
a mewl seeps past your lips like the string of drool pooling on the kitchen island, pussy fluttering around the girth, desperate to pull deeper, to suck as much as your hole could possibly take.
it doesn’t take long for you to cream his cock, having it abusing the deepest part with perfectly angled hips was quite easy to send you over the edge, your toys were good, but fuck, Toji knows what he’s doing.
a thumb hooks on the side of your cheek, pulling your soft folds open to stare down at the flutter, at the way you’re spread and speared on his cock, at his mercy. “that’s it, doll, take my cum” he grunts, balls pulsing and squished against your clit while his thick semen fills your womb.
“that um, pipe might break soon, call me again” he winks, now fully dressed and with a fat wad of bills you tucked in his shirt pocket.
SUKUNA !
“do I have to do it?” Sukuna groans in annoyance, gripping the phone where his brother spoke through.
“i don’t have anyone else to pick Yuuji, just do it once”
with another groan he agrees, hanging up the call while shrugging the girl clinging on his arm, the frat party is as annoying as ever, his life as boring as ever.
hands shoved in his pockets he waits for you to open the door, impatiently tapping on the floor as if he had something better to do than take care of his little nephew until Jin came out of work. he’s damn tired, almost about to knock again until you open, angelically smiling at him with a little Yuuji perched on your hip.
“hello, you must be Sukuna”
he wants to knock you up.
in a blink, that cocky smirk is again in place, “that’s me, i’ll take the brat now” then he’s pulling Yuuji onto his side much against the small boy grumbling.
what a good brother and uncle is Sukuna, offering to pick up Yuuji from now on, what a kind soul, making you open up to him more and more until he’s comfortably sitting on your couch, baby Yuuji sleeping upstairs and a warm, flirty laugh echoes through the living room. Sukuna knows you’re aware of his advances, and who you are to refuse a cute, ripped and younger boy’s attention.
and that dick was to die for.
“fuck, sweetheart, you’re a pro” he grins, licking across his teeth while you slobber all over his cock, tongue and lips caressing the fat girth, saliva dripping to coat his full and heavy balls slapping against your chin, “made for take my cock down your tight throat, fuck!”
you can feel your juices dripping down your thighs, pooling on the wooden floor, while you feast on Sukuna’s thick musky scent, adding to the soft pulse and slight salty taste of the tip hitting the back of your throat.
thank fuck he does not keep you waiting, “come here, get on your knees, I need to cum in your cunt”
who are you to refuse such a sensual order? shakily climbing on the leather couch that squeaks under your knees, fingers twisting around the armrest while Sukuna pushes into, “is that how you fuck your classmates?” oh, baby, you’re screwed.
Sukuna takes that as a challenge, arching your back, spreading your asscheeks and pounding into your hole, adoring the slapping sound of his balls slapping your wet flesh, soaking in your warmth, “i’ll show you how I fuck a gorgeous woman like you” and he does, trying to prove you how he’s more than a cocky, pretty face, having you squeaking his name, begging to be creampied until next week.
his eyes are hooded, strangely overwhelmed by your pussy, by the easy glide that welcomes more and more into your depths, begging, craving, crying for his cock, to be pounded into oblivion. “i need to keep you full of me, smelling like me” each word is accentuated by a thrust, ignoring the way his balls clench in a signal that he is about to cum.
“ah, u-ungh... Sukuna, ah, you feel so good, love” why does the tenderness in your voice make his tip twitch and splurt another wave of pre?
“yeah, sweetheart? you like it? you love how I pound your creamy pussy?” almost breathless, panting in attempts to hold back a strong orgasm, needing to drive you insane first, to have you gushing, squirting all over his thick cock before he finally, finally gets to claim that sweet release inside your willing, still very much fertile body.
#lovegasmic writes kento#lovegasmic writes toji#lovegasmic writes sukuna#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#nanami kento smut#kento nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#kento x reader#jjk nanami smut#nanami smut#nanami x reader#nanami x reader smut#kento nanami x reader smut#toji fushiguro x reader#toji smut#toji x reader#jjk toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x reader smut#toji fushiguro smut#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna smut#jjk sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader smut#sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader smut
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# HOW BATBOYS REACT TO YOU WEARING THEY'RE COLOR ── .✦ ( eg. nails, clothes, anything ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ )
a/n: so I first did a small idea of this (here) and then I thought why not do it based off this anon (here) so yeahh, anyways I kinda fell so off course like genuinely I need to make more batboys content, tags: (batboys x reader)
© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )
DICK GRAYSON ── .✦
Dick notices instantly. He’s hyper-aware of the blue.
“Wait, are those nails painted Nightwing blue? Babe, did you do that for me?” Cue the biggest grin you’ve ever seen.
Compliments you non-stop. He’s not subtle about how much he loves it.
“You’re really pulling off my color, you know. Almost makes me think you’re trying to steal my spotlight.”
Gets extra touchy holding your hand, brushing your hair back, etc. “You’re so cute I can’t even deal right now.”, “It’s just blue and black colored nails dick.”
If it’s a clothing piece, he’ll joke, “Matching outfits for day? Say the word, and we’ll be Gotham’s most fashionable duo.”
JASON TODD ── .✦
Jason notices but plays it cool at first. “Nice color choice,” he says casually, though he’s dying and resurrecting inside.
If it’s your nails “You’re carrying my whole brand on those hands. Should I start paying you royalties?”
If it’s clothing, “Careful, babe, wearing red this well might make you a target and you might be mistaken for me.” But his smirk shows he’s all for it.
Low-key proud you’re repping his colors but doesn’t know how to express it well. Might just stare a little longer than usual.
Ends up pulling you closer while murmuring, “You look good in my color. Too good.”
Secretly starts thinking of ways to return the gesture, like wearing something in your favorite color. (He’s hoping it’s not absurd neon colors😭)
TIM DRAKE ── .✦
Blushes immediately. He’s not even subtle about it. “Wait… is that red because of… me?”
Obsesses over the details. “Did you match your nails to the exact shade of my suit? That’s, like, the coolest thing ever.”
Super flustered but also unbelievably touched. “I didn’t know you liked my colors that much.”
If it’s a clothing item, he’d be stunned for a moment before saying, “You look so… wow. You’re killing it.”
Gets a little shy but can’t stop glancing at you all day. Ends up fiddling with your hand if it’s your nails.
Might text you later "Thanks for making my day with that. You didn’t have to, but I really, really loved it.”
DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦
Notices instantly but acts unimpressed. “Hmph. So you’re inspired by me today?”
Low-key thrilled but refuses to let you know. If it’s your nails, he might sarcastically say, “Subtle.” But he’s secretly staring.
If it’s clothing, “Green suits you. Perhaps you should wear it more often.” It’s his way of saying you look amazing.
After some time, he’ll let his walls down. “It’s not awful… You look better in my colors than I do.”
Will absolutely brag to Alfred or the others about it later. “Clearly, they understand quality when they see it.”
Ends up gifting you something else in his colors—maybe a scarf or bracelet—just to see you wear it again.
BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦
Bruce notices immediately but doesn’t say much at first. He’ll just give you that classic Bruce Wayne smirk.
If it’s clothing, he’ll subtly comment, “You look good in black. Suits you.” (High praise from him)
If it’s nails, he’ll gently take your hand and examine them. “Interesting choice. Are you sending a message, or…?”
Deep down, he’s really touched but doesn’t know how to express it. Might make a dry joke like, “So you’re my sidekick now?”
Later, when you’re alone, he’d admit, “It’s nice seeing you in something that reminds me of… us.”
Low-key loves the idea of you wearing his colors often. He’d never say it outright, but his actions like buying you more black and yellow pieces make it clear (to a point half your dresses were either black or yellow even you’re gold jewelry has yellow hints and accents😭😭)
#jason todd#jason todd x reader#dc#batboys#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson#nightwing#nightwing x reader#nightwing imagine#red hood x reader#red hood#batboys x reader#jason todd headcanon#tim drake x reader#tim drake#red robin x reader#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne imagine#bruce wayne headcanon#tim drake imagine#tim drake headcanon#red hood imagine#red hood headcanon#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson headcanon#damian al ghul x reader#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne#damian al ghul#batfamily
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ILLICIT AFFAIRS (1/3) | CS55
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/eb2678b1cb1f4ef638a87fcd7663eeaf/d02656b2ebac4938-3c/s540x810/b7b8ca05ecf130320d521a4fb28eead44bb68a6e.jpg)
summary : “Bossy, isn’t he?” The voice is smooth, warm, and laced with amusement. You glance to your left and—of course—it’s Carlos Sainz. You freeze, your brother’s voice echoing in your head like a siren: Run. RUN.
wc : 9k
an : sorry for the lack of updates recently.. ehem.. anyway. rally driver carlos sainz. im making this a thing now.
“You’re staring,” Carlos says, voice low and gravelly. His smile is wolfish, sharp enough to cut through your resolve.
You blink, forcing yourself to focus on something other than the way his fireproofs cling to his frame or how the red of his suit gleams in the harsh light. “You’re filthy.”
“Occupational hazard,” he replies, shrugging. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes. Amusement? Challenge? It doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter.
Because you’re Charles Leclerc’s little sister, and that means Carlos Sainz Jr. is completely, irrevocably off-limits.
Charles would kill you both if he knew. He’s warned you before, in that brotherly-but-deadly-serious tone only he can manage.
Carlos is reckless, he said.
Carlos is trouble.
Carlos is not for you.
But damned it all, he looks good.
The kind of good that sinks its teeth into your chest and doesn’t let go. Mud-drowned, sweat-stained, grime-smeared.
Carlos Sainz Jr. wears chaos like it’s tailored for him.
By all accounts, you have no business so much as glancing twice at him.
Preciously guarded, perfectly poised, the crown jewel of your family’s otherwise tumultuous legacy.
Carlos doesn’t belong in the world that your family envisions for you. He’s nothing like the men you’ve been told to admire. His name carries weight, but for all the wrong reasons.
His reputation is as red as the suit he wears, all sharp edges and unapologetic flame. A bold, glaring warning sign.
—
The first time you meet Carlos Sainz is at the FIA WRC Prize-Giving Ceremony, a glittering vortex of champagne, sequins, and self-importance. The kind of place where you’d half expect someone to announce their yacht has feelings and everyone to applaud.
You’re standing near the bar, clutching a cocktail that tastes like fruit and regret, watching as yet another impeccably dressed couple glides by, all pearly smiles and whispered deals.
You’ve perfected the art of looking like you belong here. Chin up, shoulders back, face set in that careful neutral expression that says, Yes, I am both fascinated and entirely above this conversation.
Your dress, while beautiful, feels like it’s plotting against you.
It’s a designer masterpiece, sure, but also a silken cage, clinging to you with a vengeance. Moving feels like negotiating with an overly aggressive boa constrictor.
You’re mid-sip when a familiar warmth presses against your side, accompanied by the unmistakable scent of Dior cologne and something ineffably Charles.
He slides into your personal space with the precision of a Ferrari in a hairpin turn, arm looping over your shoulders in a practiced, casual gesture
“Hey,” you murmur, tilting your head just enough to catch a glimpse of him. He’s all sharp lines and understated ease, looking like he belongs here more than you feel like you ever will.
“Hey,” he replies, voice low, steady. You know what that particular combination usually entails.
“Charles,” you start, “why do I feel like you’re about to ruin my evening?”
“Because I probably am,” he says, his tone far too smug. “What’s with the silent brooding act? You’re usually better at pretending to have fun at these things.”
You shoot him a sidelong glance. “It’s not brooding. It’s observational detachment. Very sophisticated.”
“Uh-huh,” he says, clearly unimpressed. “Observational detachment looks a lot like you wishing the floor would swallow you whole.”
You huff. “Look, not everyone thrives in a room full of egos and overpriced cologne. Some of us are just trying to survive without tripping over a waiter or accidentally insulting someone’s investment portfolio.”
Charles chuckles, a low, warm sound that makes you feel both comforted and mildly insulted. “Relax. Nobody’s looking at you.”
“Wow, thanks for that, Charles. Truly, your support is overwhelming.”
“Anytime,” he says, patting your shoulder like you’re a child who just learned how to tie their shoes.
Before you can deliver a properly scathing retort, a ripple of energy rolls through the crowd.
It’s subtle at first, a shift in the air, but then the room practically pivots in unison. You wonder for a second if someone's giving out free caviar.
Instead, you follow their collective gaze to a man.
He strides into the room with the kind of confidence that should be illegal. The tailored suit, the tousled hair, the jawline that could cut glass. It's like someone combined a Greek statue and a high-stakes poker player and gave it legs.
“Man of the hour,” Charles mutters, his voice tinged with something you can’t quite place. Disdain? Wariness? A general sense of foreboding?
You raise an eyebrow, tilting your head toward him. “Friend of yours?”
Charles snorts. “Hardly. That’s Carlos Sainz Jr. Rally royalty. He's won the last 3 seasons. Toyota’s golden boy. Ferrari’s got some partnership thing with them next season, which is the only reason why we’re even here.”
You glance back at Carlos, who’s working the room with maddening confidence. “So, he’s basically Rally’s Verstappen?” you ask, your curiosity slipping out before you can stop it.
Charles gives you a look. “Don’t.”
“What?” you say, feigning innocence. “I’m just asking.”
“You’re not just asking,” he counters, his eyes narrowing. “I know that look. That’s the ‘who’s that guy, and how do I make him notice me’ look.”
“Excuse me,” you scoff, turning to face him fully. “I do not have a-”
“Don’t even try to deny it,” he interrupts, holding up a hand. “I’ve seen you use it. Monaco. Italy. That time in Barcelona with-”
“Alright!” you hiss, your face heating. “Fine. Maybe I’m curious. He’s… magnetic.”
Charles rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well, magnets also attract negative things. Stay away from him.”
You smirk, leaning a little closer. “What’s the matter, Charles? Afraid I’ll charm him?”
“No,” he says flatly. “I’m afraid he’ll charm you. And then I’ll have to deal with whatever disaster follows.”
“Relax,” you drawl, giving him a playful nudge. “I’m not that easy to charm.”
“Yeah, sure,” Charles mutters, clearly unconvinced. “Just don’t do that thing where you get all… wide-eyed and clever. Guys like him eat that up.”
You’re about to respond when you feel it— a gaze.
You glance up, and there it is.
Carlos’s eyes are on you. It’s brief, almost imperceptible, but it sends a spark down your spine.
Charles notices instantly. His grip on your shoulder tightens. “Don’t,” he warns again, his voice low and dangerous.
“I didn’t do anything!” you protest, trying to suppress a smile.
“Exactly. And you’re not going to,” he says, steering you toward the opposite end of the room like a bouncer removing an unruly guest. “We’re going to stand over here, away from trouble.”
You laugh, unable to help yourself. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“And you’re being predictable,” he shoots back, his jaw tight. “Trust me, mon cher, you don’t want to play with fire.”
You glance over your shoulder, catching one last glimpse of Carlos as Charles practically barricades you with his presence. “You know,” you murmur, smirking, “sometimes you’re more fun when you’re not acting like dad.”
Charles glares at you. “And sometimes, you’re less annoying when you don’t flirt with people I don't even want to see once in my lifetime.”
“The fact that they annoy you is half the fun,” you say sweetly, earning a groan from him.
“God help me,” he mutters, dragging a hand through his hair. “You’re going to kill me one day, I swear.”
—
“Alright, sœur,” Charles says as he adjusts the cuffs of his tuxedo. “I need to head out for some Ferrari business. Do not make me regret leaving you alone.”
You raise an eyebrow, sipping your cocktail with mock innocence. “Charles, please. What trouble could I possibly get into in a room full of racing legends and corporate sponsors?”
He levels you with a look so sharp it could shave ice. “I have seen you talk your way out of detention, past bouncers, and into a free round of drinks on three separate continents. You are a wildcard, sœur.”
“Flattering,” you reply, setting your glass down. “But seriously, I’ll be fine. I’ll stay right here by the bar, sipping my little fruity drink, not bothering anyone.”
“Promise me,” Charles says, and his tone is so dead serious you have to bite back a laugh.
“Promise,” you reply solemnly, holding up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
Charles doesn’t look convinced. “No cocktails that magically refill themselves.”
“Understood.”
“No sneaking out the back to avoid small talk.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“And absolutely, under no circumstances, are you to talk to Carlos Sainz.”
At this, you can’t help but grin. “Ah, so we’re naming names now.”
“I mean it,” Charles says, leaning in closer, his voice dropping. “He’s not for you. He's the kind of guy that makes people do stupid things.”
You tilt your head, amused. “Are you warning me or complimenting him?”
Charles groans as he steps back, hands on his hips, his expression a mix of concern and mild irritation. If he had a clipboard, you’re pretty sure he’d be writing up a contract for you to sign in blood just so he can rest easier.
“Alright,” he says. “Repeat it back to me. What are the rules?”
You sigh, adjusting the strap of your too-tight dress. “Charles, I’m not five-”
“Rules.” His tone is firm, his eyes narrowing like he’s daring you to argue.
You roll your eyes but indulge him anyway. “I will stay here, I won’t get drunk, and I will absolutely not talk to Carlos Sainz.”
“And?”
You blink. “And… I won’t commit arson?”
He glares at you, unimpressed. “You won’t look at Carlos Sainz.”
“Charles-”
“Not even a glance. Not even one of those polite ‘oh, I accidentally made eye contact across the room’ things. Nothing. He doesn’t exist to you. Got it?”
You try to keep a straight face but fail miserably. “What happens if he sneezes near me? Do I ignore that too? Should I call security?”
“Sœur, this is not a joke,” he huffs, his hands moving to your shoulders like he can physically shake the mischief out of you. “Carlos is… he’s trouble.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Trouble? Or, like, annoyingly charming?”
“Both!” Charles exclaims, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “And don’t give me that look. I’ve seen what happens when you’re around guys like him. You think they’re all charming smiles and nice suits, and then next thing I know, you’re calling me to help you get out of some ridiculous situation-”
“I called you one time,” you interrupt. “And that was because the guy had a pet snake, and I panicked!”
“And who ended up having to rescue you from the snake guy?”
“Okay, fine, you made your point,” you mutter, crossing your arms. “I won’t talk to Carlos. Happy?”
“No,” Charles says flatly. “But I have to leave anyway. Ferrari’s calling.”
“Wow,” you deadpan. “Abandoning your defenseless sister in the lion’s den. What a hero.”
He leans in close, his eyes locked on yours. “I’m serious. Stay here, don’t drink too much, and if you see Carlos coming, you run.”
“Run? In this dress? Are you kidding me?”
“Figure it out,” he snaps, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before walking off. He glances over his shoulder twice—twice—as if expecting to catch you breaking a rule the moment he’s out of earshot, before narrowing his eyes at a man who isn’t even Carlos but looked at you for half a second too long.
You wait until he’s fully gone before exhaling in relief.
“Bossy, isn’t he?”
The voice is smooth, warm, and laced with amusement. You glance to your left and—of course— it’s Carlos Sainz.
You freeze, your brother’s voice echoing in your head like a siren: Run.
RUN.
“I was beginning to think he’d never leave,” Carlos adds, a mischievous grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
You blink at him, momentarily caught off guard. “You were… waiting for him to leave?”
“Only because he kept looking at me like I’d stolen his wallet,” Carlos replies, leaning casually against the bar. “Or his car. Or his sister.”
You open your mouth to respond but close it again, realizing there’s no good way to play this off. “He’s just… protective.”
Carlos chuckles, his eyes scanning your face with a kind of slow, deliberate curiosity. “I noticed. So, did you make him that promise? No drinks, no sneaking out, no talking to me?”
“Absolutely not,” you say, deadpan. “I told him I’d only talk to the nice drivers.”
Carlos clutches his chest like you’ve just shot him. “Ouch. Harsh.”
“I’m just being polite,” you say, your lips twitching into a smile.
“Well,” he replies, leaning closer, his voice dropping slightly, “if this is you being polite, I think I would very much like to see what happens when you are not.”
You laugh despite yourself, shaking your head. “You’re trouble.”
He grins wider. “So I have heard.”
You glance around, half-expecting Charles to materialize out of thin air and haul you away, but thankfully, the coast is clear. “If Charles sees us talking…”
“I will tell him I was complimenting his suit,” Carlos says, completely unbothered.
“Complimenting his suit?”
“It is the diplomatic approach,” he says with a shrug. “Besides, I am not here to talk about your brother.”
You feel your cheeks heat slightly but manage to keep your tone light. “Oh? And what are you here to talk about?”
Carlos tilts his head, considering. “I was going to ask what you are drinking. But now I am more curious about what it takes to make you smile like that.”
You blink at him, caught completely off guard. “Like what?”
“Like you have just outsmarted someone,” he says, his grin softening.
You narrow your eyes playfully. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere.”
“Likely not,” he admits. Carlos leans against the bar, his grin firmly in place, the picture of someone who knows they’re being just a bit too charming for their own good. “Alright then,” he says, folding his arms casually, “if flattery is off the table, will you take honesty?”
You arch a brow, intrigued despite yourself. “Honesty? Bold move. Let’s hear it.”
He tilts his head, pretending to think. “Honestly… I do not think I have ever seen someone look so uncomfortable in such an expensive dress.”
Your mouth falls open in mock offense. “Excuse me?”
“You look stunning,” he says quickly, his voice dropping just enough to make your stomach flip, “but also like you are plotting the designer’s bankruptcy for making it impossible to sit down without no strategy.”
You try to fight the grin tugging at your lips, but it’s hopeless. “That obvious?”
“Painfully.” He gestures toward your drink. “That is why you are sticking to cocktails, am I wrong? Easier to hold when you cannot sit.”
“First of all,” you say, narrowing your eyes, “I’ll have you know this dress is art. Secondly, yes, it’s also a medieval torture device.”
Carlos laughs, the sound warm and rich. “I knew it. You should have gone for something more comfortable. Like a race suit.”
“Oh, sure,” you say dryly. “Nothing screams elegance like fireproof overalls.”
He raises a brow, amused. “I pull it off, no?”
“Debatable.”
Carlos gasps, hand to his chest. “You wound me.”
“Maybe you deserve it,” you tease, swirling your drink. “Coming over here and making fun of my dress. Bold move for a guy who was scared of my brother five minutes ago.”
“I was not scared,” Carlos protests, though his grin gives him away. “I was being… strategic. Big difference.”
“Strategic?”
“Of course. If I had approached with him still here, I would not have had a chance to make you laugh like this.”
You blink, caught off guard by the way his words land. Playful, sure, but with just enough sincerity to make your heart skip a beat. You glance down at your drink to recover. “You really don’t give up, do you?”
“Not when it is worth it,” he replies smoothly.
You roll your eyes, though you’re still smiling. “You know, Charles warned me about you.”
Carlos leans in slightly, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “Did he, now? What did he say?”
“That you’re trouble.”
He grins, clearly delighted. “Smart man, your brother.”
You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I’m starting to think he undersold it.”
Carlos’s gaze lingers on you for a moment, his smile softening. “And yet, here you are. Still talking to me.”
“Out of politeness,” you counter, though your tone is anything but serious.
“Ah, of course,” he says, nodding solemnly. “Politeness. Nothing else.”
Before you can respond, a familiar figure catches your eye— Charles, weaving his way back through the crowd, his sharp gaze already scanning the room.
Carlos notices too.
He straightens slightly, his grin turning almost boyish. “Looks like the bodyguard is back.”
You feel a pang of panic and glance at Carlos. “You should probably go before he-”
He holds up a hand, cutting you off with a wink. “Relax.”
Before you can protest, he pulls a small card from his pocket and slides it across the bar toward you. “Call me sometime. You know, if you ever need a break from all the rules.”
Your eyes widen, and you stare at the card like it’s going to combust. “Are you serious right now?”
“Deadly,” he says, stepping back with an easy confidence that somehow makes the gesture feel entirely natural.
You glance back toward Charles, who’s getting closer. “You’re insane.”
“Very likely,” Carlos agrees, his grin never wavering. “But you are smiling again, so I will take my chances.”
With that, he turns and disappears into the crowd just as Charles arrives, his expression immediately suspicious.
“You’re… red,” Charles says, narrowing his eyes at you. “Why are you red?”
“I’m not red,” you reply quickly, tucking the card into your clutch before he can notice.
“You are definitely red.” His eyes scan the room like he’s searching for a culprit. “Did someone talk to you? Was it-” He cuts himself off, his jaw tightening. “It was him, wasn’t it?”
“Who?” you ask, feigning innocence.
Charles groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I leave you alone for ten minutes-”
“Nothing happened!” you say, cutting him off before he can spiral. “I stayed in place, I didn’t get drunk, and I absolutely did not talk with Carlos Sainz.”
Charles glares at you for a long moment, clearly unconvinced. “If I find out you’re lying…”
“You won’t,” you assure him, fighting to keep your expression neutral.
Charles mutters something in French under his breath, his protective instincts still on high alert. But for now, he seems to let it go.
You take a deep breath, trying not to think about the card burning a metaphorical hole in your clutch.
Trouble, indeed.
—
The next evening, you’re sitting on the edge of the couch in the hotel you're staying in for the week, the card in your hand like a magnet pulling your thoughts.
Carlos Sainz Jr.
His name, elegant and bold, hovers just above a phone number.
You’ve been staring at it for an hour, maybe two.
It’s reckless. You know exactly where this could lead. But after weeks of licking your wounds post-breakup, maybe reckless is what you need.
You grab your phone, dial the number, and press call before you can second-guess yourself.
The line rings twice before you hear his smooth, amused voice. “Did not expect you to actually call. Could you not resist me after all?”
You snort, leaning back in your chair. “You’re lucky I was bored.”
“Boredom. My favorite reason to hear from someone,” he says, the grin practically audible. “Let me guess, you are curious too?”
“A little bit.”
“Well, what are you curious about then? My irresistible charm? Perhaps my car collection?”
“How you manage to stay humble, obviously,” you deadpan, sinking back into the cushions.
Carlos laughs, warm and easy. “Touché. So, to what do I owe the honor of your time?”
“Honor?” you repeat, grinning despite yourself. “You’re laying it on thick, Sainz.”
“Is it working?” he teases.
“Not even a little.”
“Well that just breaks my heart,” he says, the amusement still lacing his voice. “So, what’s the plan? Coffee? A five-course dinner? A museum? A chess tournament, maybe?”
“Very funny.” You can’t help but roll your eyes.
He chuckles. “Not doing it for you? Then.. how about something a little more… fun?”
You pause, caught off guard by the openness of the invitation. He clearly doesn't shy away from what he wants. “Define ‘fun.’”
“Well, that depends,” he replies. “Do you like questionable choices?”
You laugh lightly, your shoulders relaxing. “That’s vague enough to sound both exciting and mildly concerning.”
“Only if you're afraid of a little adventure,” he says. “So, what do you say? Feel like breaking a rule or two tonight?”
It’s tempting, more than you care to admit. After the mess of your last relationship, something casual, something fun, feels like exactly what you need.
No strings, no complications, just one night where you don’t have to overthink.
“Fine,” you say before you can change your mind. “But if it’s boring, I’m blaming you.”
Carlos chuckles, confidence palpable even over the phone. “Deal. Wear something you can run in just in case.”
“Run?” you repeat, half-laughing. “What are we doing, robbing a bank?”
“Not unless you want to,” he quips. “Pick you at nine?”
“Make it ten,” you counter.
“Perfect,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll see you then.”
At exactly 10 p.m., you step out of your building to find him leaning against a sleek black car, his arms crossed casually over his chest. He looks up as you approach, his grin lighting up the cool night.
“Punctual,” he says, straightening. “I like that.”
“Don’t get too excited. I had to pull some serious James Bond moves just to get down here without getting caught.”
Carlos raises an eyebrow, his grin already threatening to take over his face. “You had to sneak out? Please tell me this involved climbing out a window, a grappling hook, or at least a dramatic roll through the bushes.”
“Dial it back, Hollywood,” you shoot back, rolling your eyes. “Charles is in the same hotel, so I had to wait until he was distracted. Then it was all service elevators and a full-on sprint through the lobby. Not my proudest moment.”
Carlos lets out a laugh that’s so loud it practically echoes. “A sprint? In heels? I would’ve paid to see that. Did you also hurdle over a concierge desk? Maybe slap on a disguise?”
“Oh, sure,” you say dryly. “I borrowed a waiter’s tuxedo, grabbed a martini tray, and dramatically whispered, ‘The eagle has landed’ into my nonexistent earpiece. Happy?”
Carlos is practically wheezing now. “God, I love this. The mental image alone is worth every risk of me getting yelled at by Charles later.”
“Glad my suffering is your entertainment,” you grumble, though you can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.
“It’s not suffering,” he teases, opening the passenger door with a flourish. “It’s resourcefulness. And it’s sexy, honestly. Nothing like a woman who can evade capture.”
Sliding into the car, you’re greeted by the smell of leather and something distinctly spicy- his cologne, no doubt.
You buckle your seatbelt with a sigh. “Let’s just hope Charles doesn’t find out. I don’t need another lecture about ‘dangerous distractions.’”
Carlos rounds the car and slides into the driver’s seat, shooting you an amused look. “Dangerous distractions? That is what he calls me?”
“Paraphrased,” you say, tilting your head. “But yeah, you’re not exactly his favorite person.”
Carlos starts the car, the low rumble of the engine filling the air. “Dangerous, distracting… mysterious? I mean, he is not wrong, no?”
“Sure, if you consider reckless confidence a mystery,” you deadpan, smirking.
The car glides through the streets, city lights flickering like distant stars. Soft music hums in the background, but it’s the easy rhythm of his laugh that keeps drawing your attention.
“So,” you say, breaking the silence, “do you make a habit of this? Sweeping women off their feet with late-night escapades and mediocre charm?”
Carlos glances at you, his grin widening. “Define habit.”
“Something you do as often as breathing, blinking, or inflating your ego,” you reply, deadpan.
He chuckles, one hand leaving the wheel to gesture grandly. “First of all, I don’t charm everyone. I have standards. Second, I don’t see you as a stranger. More like… a riddle wrapped in an enigma wrapped in—”
“Don’t say mystery,” you cut in, groaning.
“Fine,” he says, smirking. “A challenge. And I love challenges.”
You arch a brow. “So what you’re saying is, I’m a Rubik’s Cube in heels?”
“Exactly,” he says, like it’s the highest compliment he could ever give someone.
“Oh, well, as long as I’m colorful and frustrating,” you reply, rolling your eyes.
Carlos grins. “And completely irresistible.”
“Please tell me that’s not your go-to line,” you say, pinching the bridge of your nose in mock despair.
“Of course not,” he huffs, mock-offended. “My go-to line is, ‘Hi, I’m Carlos. Are you French? Because Eiffel for you.’”
You practically choke on your laugh. “That’s horrible. That’s, like, pick-up line rock bottom.”
“Rock bottom?” he echoes, feigning shock. “No way. It works every time.”
“Oh, I’m sure it does.” You shake your head. “On toddlers and tourists.”
“Hey,” he says, pointing a finger at you. “It worked on you, didn’t it?”
“Absolutely not,” you say, your laugh betraying you. “I’m here despite you, not because of you.”
Carlos smirks, his voice dripping with mischief. “Keep telling yourself that, mastermind. But I know the truth- you couldn’t resist the ‘dangerous distraction.’”
You groan, sinking further into your seat. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you,” he says, shooting you a quick, playful glance, “are having the time of your life, admit it.”
For once, you’re not entirely sure he’s wrong.
The car eventually pulls into the driveway of a sleek, modern hotel, its lights gleaming against the night sky.
You turn to Carlos, raising a skeptical brow, putting on your best impression of someone highly offended as he parks in front of the gleaming hotel. “So, this was the plan all along? Fancy hotel, late-night charm, and then…?”
You don’t even have to finish the sentence because his grin, the one that’s already halfway to insufferable, answers for him.
“And then what?” he fires back, leaning one arm against the steering wheel like he’s posing for a GQ article.
“You know exactly what,” you say, narrowing your eyes dramatically.
Carlos gasps, clutching his chest like you’ve just insulted his entire family tree. “Wow. So that’s where your mind went? I bring you here for the view and the ambiance, and you’re already casting me as the villain? Shame on you.”
“Oh, please,” you reply, fighting to keep your laugh in check. “I’m just cutting to the chase. Save us both the trouble.”
Carlos turns to face you and nothing in his face says he's particularly ashamed to admit his intentions. “Look, I could tell you some noble story about how I just wanted to show you the city from a better perspective.”
“But?” you prompt, raising a brow and you cover a laugh when he tuts at your impatience.
“But, I figured you’re too smart for that,” he admits with a shrug. “So yes, I brought you here thinking we would share a night.”
Your stomach flips at the sheer confidence of his answer, but you force the neutral expression to stay. “Bold of you to assume I’d even be interested.”
Carlos leans in slightly, voice dropping to something softer, teasing. “Oh, I’m sorry. Should I have taken the whole ‘call me’ thing as you wanting to discuss philosophy?”
He leans in, smirk turning positively dangerous. “Plus. Trouble’s half the fun, is it not?”
“Yeah, well, I’m not paying for room service if this whole charade involves a well-rehearsed speech,” you shoot back, unbuckling your seatbelt.
“Speech?” he echoes, already stepping out of the car and coming around to your side. He opens your door with an exaggerated bow that is far too ridiculous to be charming but it manages to be anyway. “If I were planning a speech, it would be Oscar-worthy. Full drama, perhaps a soundtrack. But alas, I left my tuxedo at home.”
“Shame,” you deadpan, stepping out. “A tux might’ve added some credibility.”
Carlos shrugs before gently taking your hand. “M’lady, allow me to escort you to… whatever this is.”
“You’re laying it on a little thick, don’t you think?” you say, stepping out.
“Thick is how I do everything,” he replies. “Thick charm, thick dessert layers.. Thick..”
He trails off, wiggling his eyebrows.
You groan, unable to help yourself. “Are you 13, Sainz?”
“Going on 30.”
The elevator ride is like a high-stakes staring contest, except Carlos is clearly cheating by smirking every time you glance his way.
He leans against the wall like a man who’s never faced consequences in his life, while you remain firmly committed to ignoring him.
“I could get used to this silence,” he finally says, breaking it. “Very... peaceful.”
You don’t even look at him. “If you wanted peaceful, Carlos, you picked the wrong girl.”
His laugh echoes in the small space, low and entirely too confident.
—
The suite is jaw-droppingly beautiful, the kind of place you’d expect to see in a movie where the protagonist definitely can’t afford it.
Floor-to-ceiling windows frame a cityscape so gorgeous it feels like you’ve just walked into a tourism campaign.
Even Charles doesn't splurge this much on hotels. Much less hotels to spend a one-night stand in.
“Alright,” you admit grudgingly as you step onto the balcony. “This is… adequate.”
Carlos sidles up beside you, resting his elbows on the railing. “Adequate? Adequate? That’s like calling the Mona Lisa ‘a decent sketch.’”
“Relax, da Vinci,” you reply. “It’s a view, not the eighth wonder of the world.”
He shakes his head in mock dismay. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to book this place? I practically had to arm-wrestle a guy named Greg for it. Poor man is probably crying into his budget tiramisu right now.”
You snort, folding your arms. “I hope Greg writes an angry Yelp review. ‘Carlos stole my room and ruined my tiramisu dreams.’”
“Hey, I was thinking of your happiness,” Carlos counters, gesturing grandly to the suite. “You should be thanking me.”
“Oh, thank you, generous benefactor, for saving me from the horror of Greg’s tiramisu,” you deadpan, though your lips twitch toward a smile.
Carlos taps his fingers on the table like he’s just cracked the da Vinci code wide open. “Boom! A smile! My evil plan is working.”
You squint at him, feigning shock. “You have an evil plan?”
“Obviously,” he says. “I am a professional at this stuff. There’s a whole spreadsheet.”
“Spreadsheets? Really? What’s in Column A? ‘Step one: tiramisu. Step two: convince her I’m worth her time’?”
“Not quite,” Carlos waves a hand as though dismissing your obvious lack of understanding. “Step two is actually ‘compliment her taste in balcony design.’”
You roll your eyes. “Well, in that case, I’ll have to charge you for emotional damages.”
Carlos grins, taking out his phone with an easy flick of his hand. “No need to worry, it’s all part of the strategy. Tiramisu’s on the way, and my evil plan is flawless.”
You cross your arms and step away from the window, keeping your eyes locked on his. “Define ‘flawless,’” you tease, your voice sharp with mock suspicion.
Carlos steps closer, smirking like a man on a mission. “Flawless enough that it is guaranteed to work on you.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Oh really?”
His eyes flicker to your lips, and suddenly the air between you feels warmer. “Really,” he murmurs, his voice lower now, teasing with the kind of certainty that makes your heart do a little flip.
“You’re not really gonna make me wait for that tiramisu, are you?” You ask, leaning in just a little, challenging him with a smile that’s all confidence and mischief.
Carlos doesn’t even flinch.
In fact, he takes a step closer, his fingers brushing your wrist with a too-easy familiarity. “Greg can have it.”
Your breath catches as his forehead comes to rest against yours.
“Do I have your consent to skip to the good part?” he whispers, hand brushing against your waist, lingering for your permission. “I promise I’ll wine and dine you next time.”
You can’t help but smile, and he mirrors it, that same knowing look in his eyes.
Both of you know there's not going to be a next time. This is it.
Carlos leans in, just close enough for you to feel the heat of his breath on your skin. "I mean it. Next time, you get the full treatment.”
You smirk. "No need to get romantic. We both know that's a lie.”
For a split second, he doesn’t answer.
Then he shrugs, as if he’s made peace with the fleeting nature of this whole thing. "Yeah, probably," he admits, not at all shy.
The world is big and messy. Tomorrow, you'll wake up with responsibilities, regrets, maybe even some bruised pride.
But not tonight.
Not in this room.
You lean in, the air thick with anticipation, and that's all it takes.
Carlos surges forward, catching you off guard with how quickly he takes the lead. His hands cradle your face like it’s something precious, his fingers spreading across your jaw with a touch so warm and careful it makes your chest tighten.
For a moment, everything goes still.
The absurdity of it all melts away as you sink into the kiss, soft and electric all at once.
The heat of him consumes you, the world blurring into nothing but Carlos and the way he tastes. Sweet, intoxicating, and just a little messy. Lips collide, teeth graze, and the rhythm is anything but steady, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
Carlos moves the two of you toward the bed, gently backing you up until your knees hit the mattress. His dark eyes shine with a playfulness that’s new to you, and he can’t help the grin tugging at his lips when you let out the softest gasp as you fall back against the pillows.
He leans over you, his fingers already searching for the zipper of your dress. His lips brush your ear as he murmurs, “Strip for me, baby.”
You’re hesitant for a beat, cheeks flushing pink, but then you comply, your movements shy but determined as you step out of your dress. Carlos watches, captivated, as if seeing you like this is the most enchanting thing in the world.
“God, you’re so cute,” he says, his voice filled with awe and a touch of amusement.
The moment your bra joins the pile of discarded clothing, his hand reaches behind you, fingers deftly undoing the clasp with a practiced flick of his wrist.
“Done this before?” you tease softly, your eyes sparkling with mischief.
Carlos chuckles, his grin widening. “Maybe once or twice.”
His hands cup your breasts gently, his thumbs brushing over the sensitive peaks. The way your body trembles under his touch makes his chest ache with affection. He dips his head, lips wrapping around a nipple, his tongue swirling teasingly as his eyes meet yours.
The little sounds you make are almost too much for him. Every gasp, every whimper, every squirm beneath him sends his heart racing.
“Still okay?” he asks softly, his voice tinged with concern.
You nod quickly, your expression so earnest and trusting it makes his chest swell. “Yeah,” you whisper, your voice trembling but sure.
Carlos smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead before trailing his hand down your body, his fingertips brushing over your stomach, then your thighs. He hooks his fingers into your panties, sliding them down your legs with an almost reverent care.
“You’re so wet, cariño,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with wonder. His fingers trail through your slick folds, teasing lightly before pressing against your clit in soft, deliberate circles.
The way your body arches, the quiet, desperate whimpers spilling from your lips—it’s almost too adorable for him to handle.
He pauses, bringing a finger to his lips and sucking your taste off it with a hum of satisfaction. “I’m going to go down on you,” he says, his voice steady but tinged with anticipation. “Let me take care of you, hmm?”
You whine, covering your face with your hands, clearly embarrassed, but Carlos just chuckles, his heart melting at how cute you are.
“Look at me,” he coaxes gently, his tone soft but firm.
When you peek at him through your fingers, your nose scrunching slightly, he grins. “Good girl.”
The shudder that runs through you at his words doesn’t go unnoticed, and he files that reaction away for later.
He shifts, settling between your thighs before shouldering your knees apart, taking a moment to admire your glistening cunt, flushed and swollen with desire.
Carlos is aching in the confines of his jeans, hard and dripping precum into his boxers, but that can wait.
It’s going to wait.
"So beautiful," he breathes, his fingertips barely grazing the sensitive flesh as he spreads you open for his hungry gaze. “Mierda..”
His eyes follow a drop of come that escapes your clenching cunt, enraptured. He smears it along your clit, relishing in the way your body jerks up on the bed.
Leaning in, he drags the flat of his tongue up your slit in one slow deliberate lick, savoring.
"Mmmm..I could spend hours worshipping this pretty little cunt.” Carlos hums, his eyes fluttering shut. The taste of you, sweet and heady, has him groaning softly.
Your body responds instinctively, your back arching as you clutch at the sheets, soft cries spilling from your lips.
He repeats the motion before he can even think about it, tongue flicking across your clit.
He does that a few more times before shifting, grimacing as his covered bulge rubs against the mattress.
Carlos flicks over the bundle of nerves, then wraps his arms around your legs, lifting them from where they're settled and placing them above his shoulders. He spreads your lips, and then gets started.
“Fuck!” You gasp, back arching as you scramble for purchase, sanity fraying with every plunge of his tongue inside of you.
He seals his lips around your clit and suckles gently, flicking the tip of his tongue rapidly over the sensitive bud.
“I'm- Ah! Oh god, oh shi-it..- Please..” You're not quite sure what you're begging for. All you know is that you're going to die if Carlos stops.
"I'm gonna put in a finger, okay?" Carlos asks, looking up at you for your permission.
Usually, he’s not big on communication, not because he dislikes it, but because he’s rarely found it to be necessary.
But now, here you are, putting on a brave face and quietly defying your brother for the night.
He finds himself pleasantly surprised to enjoy the opportunity to guide you through it.
He grins when you nearly weep in relief.
"Yes, god yes..”
"Just tell me if anything feels uncomfortable.”
He circles your entrance for a moment, placing a kiss on your clit for the sake of it before slowly sinking a finger inside your slick heat.
He waits till your hips start shifting, seeking some sort of friction, before pumping them in a steady rhythm, his palm grazing your clit with each pass.
You’re tight, walls clenching down on just one of his fingers but your wetness makes it a little more easy to slide inside.
He gives a few slow pumps, checking your reaction, before picking up the pace and licking at your clit again.
You’re starting to make a mess, dripping down onto the sheets, and he wonders just how wet he can get you. Will you drip? Will you leak? Will you squirt?
"There we go.." Carlos praises, his words vibrating against your sensitive flesh.
“One more?”
You nod eagerly.
“Words, cariño,” he chides softly, his lips quirking into a playful smile.
“Y-Yes, please, Carlos,” you manage, your voice trembling but eager.
“There’s my good girl,” he praises again.
A shiver runs through you again and he grins, pushing back in with two fingers. Your face twists at the intrusion for just a moment before your hazy eyes are back on him, nodding as you catch his silent question.
Carlos curls his fingers slightly, stroking that spongy patch high on your front wall, easily finding your g-spot in another second as he tilts the angle of his wrist and your jaw drops, eyes widening.
"Oh mon dieu, don't- don't- stop-” you sob.
He laughs, has half the mind to tease but decides to do as you ask and make better use of his mouth by sucking on your clit again.
Your juices gush around his pistoning fingers as he feels your silken walls clamp down on the invasion, rippling and squeezing him in their velvety grip.
Carlos doesn't let up even as you try to squirm away from him, feet planted on his shoulders and trying to push him off your pussy.
He only growls, drags you closer to his mouth, his wicked tongue working your throbbing clit furiously.
"Yes, yes, that's it, let it all out for me," he coaxes between slurping kisses to your twitching sex. "Soak my face. Come on. Know you're close, baby.”
Carlos massages that spot inside you that has your toes curling, and the noises your wet pussy is making are completely obscene, seem to echo in the room.
“Wait-” a panicked wail leaves your lips but Carlos is too far gone, gulping for air as he replaces his tongue with his hand, the red and swollen bud of your clit rubbing against the rapid back and forth of his palm.
But Carlos doesn’t stop, too caught up in the sudden gush of fluid from your body.
His determined ministrations, almost frantic now, send droplets scattering across the bed and even onto his face.
You gasp at the mess, cheeks flushing as you take in the drenched state of his light blue button-up. "Oh my god, I’m so sorry-"
Carlos pauses, sitting up slightly as he glances down at his drenched shirt. For a moment, you think he might be upset, but then he grins. A slow, lazy, thoroughly pleased grin that makes your heart skip.
“Sorry?” he echoes, shrugging out of the shirt and tossing it aside. “Baby, don’t apologize for that. That was incredible.”
His hand moves to your cheek, cupping it gently as he brushes his thumb over your flushed skin.
Your eyes dart away, but he tilts your chin up, coaxing you to meet his gaze.
“You’ve never done that before, have you?” he asks softly, his voice filled with warmth and curiosity.
You shake your head, feeling a little bashful. “I didn’t even know I could.”
“Well, now you do,” he murmurs, his grin softening into a fond smile. “And it was beautiful. You were beautiful.”
His words make you blink up at him, your lips parting as if to argue, but the sincerity in his gaze stops you. Instead, a small, shy smile tugs at your lips, and you nod.
Carlos leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead before his lips brush against yours, slow and tender. “Do you trust me to keep going?” he asks quietly, his breath warm against your skin.
Your response is immediate, a soft and eager, “Yes,” escaping your lips as your fingers thread into his hair, holding him close for just a moment longer.
Carlos groans, before pulling back and sliding off you.
His movements are deliberate, gaze flickering to meet yours as he reaches for the waistband of his jeans.
You can’t help but follow his every move, your eyes heavy with anticipation as he tugs the denim down, revealing inch by inch of him.
He steps out of his pants with a casual confidence that makes your pulse race. His smirk deepens as he notices your unabashed stare, the way your gaze lingers. “Enjoying the view?” he teases, his tone rough but playful.
You bite your lip, a shy but knowing smile creeping onto your face. “Maybe,” you admit softly, your voice laced with just enough mischief to make him chuckle.
“Well, then let’s make sure you enjoy the rest, too,” he says, removing his boxers.
As he does, his erection comes into full view, thick and heavy and already leaking precum at the tip.
Your eyes widen as you take in the impressive sight, a rush of fresh arousal surging through you.
You breathe out, trying to compose yourself. You chance a glance at him and he meets your eyes, nodding his head.
Your fingers wrap around Carlos’ wrist, pulling him back to the bed with a surprising determination that has him raising a brow.
Before he can say a word, you’ve moved between his legs, your intentions clear. Carlos barely has time to process what’s happening before his breath hitches.
“Fuck.”
Your warm, wet mouth enveloping his cock sends a jolt of pleasure straight through him and his eyes nearly roll back.
You move deliberately, letting your tongue glide along his length before pulling back to focus on his tip, swirling and teasing in a way that has Carlos groaning low in his throat.
His hands find their way to the back of your head, resting there more for balance than control, though he murmurs praises that tumble out unbidden.
"That's it, baby, just like that," he breathes, his voice rough with restraint. "Good girl… Fuck, you're such a good girl."
That last phrase draws a muffled moan from you, the vibrations traveling through him like a shockwave, making his stomach clench.
He can’t stop the thought that flashes through his mind— such a good fucking girl.
You find a rhythm, bobbing steadily while your hand works what your mouth doesn’t reach.
Each flick of your tongue over the sensitive underside of his cock has him twitching, a breathy curse escaping when you take him deeper, testing your limits
The warmth and pressure make his head spin, but when your eyes meet his, wide and glimmering with mischief, Carlos feels his control slipping.
"Shit-" he gasps, the sensation overwhelming as he feels the tip of himself graze the back of your throat.
The way your tongue works at the base sends a spike of pleasure so sharp, balls tightening, that Carlos has to act fast, pulling you off with a groan before he cums before even fucking you.
You look up at him, lips swollen and cheeks flushed, a glimmer of satisfaction in your expression.
A thin line of saliva clings to your chin, and you swipe it away casually, your grin both coy and triumphant.
"Holy fuck," he breathes out, running a hand over his face.
It's all the warning you get before he grabs you, flipping your positions in one swift motion so he’s above you again, his body crowding yours.
“Where'd a pretty little thing like you learn how to suck cock like that, huh?”
Your grin doesn’t falter as you murmur, “Wouldn’t you like to know.
Carlos smirks, leaning down close enough that his breath brushes against your skin. He murmurs, voice dark with promise, “let’s see what else you can do."
Carlos leans over you, his hands bracketing your sides as he captures your lips in a slow, heated kiss.
Pulling back just enough to speak, his voice drops to a low, husky murmur. “Dios mío, I can’t wait to fuck you...”
You’re breathless, your lips parted and your gaze heavy-lidded, but there’s a spark of challenge in your tone as you manage to say, “Then do it.”
His eyes darken as he takes in your defiance. “Oh, don’t worry, cariño,” he says. “I will.”
Carlos pulls a condom from beneath the pillow with a sly grin, ignoring your quiet laugh.
He makes quick work of rolling the latex sheath down his length. Making sure you see just so you don't feel uneasy about it.
Reaching for a bottle of lube that he'd asked the hotel staff to leave in the bedside drawer, he opens the cap slowly.
He notices the quizzical look in your eyes and addresses the unspoken question with a shrug. "Just to be safe. Better overdone than under, eh?”
Carlos lubes up his fingers thoroughly before reaching down to massage your slick folds.
His fingers trace teasing circles around your entrance, dipping in just enough to feel you flutter and squeeze, like you’re already trying to pull him closer. It’s almost too cute how your body responds, eager and impatient.
As Carlos begins to press in, the head of his cock breaching your tight entrance, your features twist in the most adorable way, your brows pinching together, lips parting slightly as you adjust. He can’t help but marvel at how perfect you look, even like this.
He exhales sharply, trying to stifle a groan.
Carlos isn’t usually the type to get too vocal, but the way you feel is making it impossible to hold back.
“Shhh, relax for me, amor,” he murmurs, his voice soft and reassuring.
One hand strokes soothing circles on your lower back while the other cups your cheek, his thumb brushing against your flushed skin.
He’s trying to be patient, gentle, because he doesn’t want to rush you, doesn’t want to miss a single moment of this.
He pauses whenever your expression tightens, his eyes fixed on you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen.
The way you wriggle your hips a little, trying to get used to him, only makes his heart clench. You’re trying so hard for him, to take his cock, and it’s impossibly endearing.
Finally, you nod, your voice a soft whisper. “Okay… Okay, you can move.”
Carlos doesn’t need to be told twice.
He starts slow, his movements careful and deliberate, as if he’s afraid of breaking something fragile. Each sound you make, the tiny gasps, the way you breathe his name, sends a shiver through him.
He's going to be obsessed with you if you keep it up.
The way your back arches beneath him, how your hands cling to his shoulders, and the soft “oh” that slips from your lips when he pushes a little deeper. All of it makes him want to be drunk with you.
When he’s as far as he can go, he pauses, watching your face, his voice laced with affection and just a hint of smugness. “Never been this full?”
You shake your head, biting your lip in that shy way, your hips shifting against him instinctively.
He chuckles softly, starting to move again, his pace slow and steady at first. But as you begin to meet his thrusts, matching him perfectly, he picks up speed, his movements more purposeful.
Each deliberate snap of his hips pulls the sweetest, most melodic sounds from you, soft gasps and little whimpers that only spur him on.
You’re perfect. So fucking cute.
The slick heat between you makes every movement smooth, though Carlos slips out a couple of times, only to guide himself back in easily.
Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving faint marks that spur him on, and your cloudy, pleasure-drunk eyes roll back in the most pretty way, making his chest ache with something more than just lust.
“Do you wanna ride me, baby?” he asks, his voice soft but laced with need.
“Y-yeah,” you stammer, your voice trembling as you nod eagerly.
There’s a flicker of shyness in your movements, a hesitation that only makes you more endearing to him.
Even though your limbs are heavy with exhaustion, you don’t hesitate, shifting so Carlos can lie on his back while you straddle him. He watches you with rapt attention, his lips quirking into a small, affectionate smile as you position yourself over him.
His hand wraps around his length, teasing your folds with the head, and he’s utterly mesmerized by the way your lips part, the way you bite down on them as you begin to lower yourself.
Inch by inch, you take him, and he can’t help but think of how you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.
His hands find your hips instinctively, gripping you gently but firmly.
Despite his intention to let you set the pace, his need wins out, and he begins guiding you up and down before you even have a chance to adjust.
A loud, sweet moan escapes your lips as you lean forward, kissing him with an urgency that’s almost too cute for words.
Your teeth tug at his lower lip, making him groan softly, his hands tightening on your waist.
Then you start to move on your own, bouncing on him with a surprising confidence, and your wide, innocent eyes flick up to meet his. Even as the heat radiates from your every motion, there’s something so sweet in the way you look at him, like you’re trying to get his approval.
“Like this?” you slur, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah, just like that,” Carlos breathes, his voice thick and low.
The lewd, wet sounds of your bodies moving together threaten to push him over the edge, but he focuses on the adorable way you’re trying so hard to be good for him.
“You’re so good for me,” he groans, his words spilling out without thought, and the way you whimper in response, your lips parting in a needy gasp, makes his heart race.
You sink down fully, grinding against him, and he watches your expression shift. When you find the perfect angle, your eyes widen in a mix of wonder and surprise, locking onto his like you can’t believe how good it feels.
“Keep going, baby,” he murmurs, his thumb finding your clit and circling it gently, his voice filled with awe. “You’re perfect. So perfect. Let go for me.”
Your movements grow frantic, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your body trembles. Carlos watches in utter fascination as your lips part in a choked whimper, and then you cry out, your release hitting you in waves.
Warmth floods over him, soaking his skin and the sheets beneath, but all he can think about is how beautiful, how absolutely adorable, you are in this moment.
The sight, the sound, the feel of you. It’s too much. Carlos’ grip tightens on your waist as he thrusts upward one last time, his own climax crashing into him.
His body shudders beneath you, his head tipping back as he empties himself completely, groaning your name softly.
When it’s over, you collapse onto his chest, your breaths mingling as both of you struggle to steady yourselves.
Carlos’ hands wander to your lower back, tracing gentle circles near the dimples that make you squirm slightly, a halfhearted giggle escaping your lips.
He chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. The two of you lie there in the quiet, the warmth of each other’s presence wrapping around you like a blanket.
After a long pause, Carlos speaks, his voice filled with playful affection. “You want tiramisu?”
The sleepy laugh you let out is so cute it makes his heart flip, and he knows he’d do anything just to keep hearing it.
The thought makes him sick.
#x reader#formula one#formula one x reader#formula 1#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz#carlos sainz x you#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x reader#carlos sainz jr x you#carlos sainz jr x reader#carlos sainz smut#cs55 x y/n#cs55 imagine#cs55 x reader#cs55 x you#cs55 fic#cs55 smut#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1#f1 fic#f1 x you
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a winners celebration - LANDO NORRIS
pairing : lando norris x best friend!reader
summary : win celebrations look a little different for lando norris this time around
warnings/notes : swearing, drinking, smut, unprotected sex (please use a condom!), overstimulation, fingering, hair pulling, oral (both!receiving), praise kink, use of "baby" and "good girl", pussydrunk!lando lowkey, 69, dacryphilia
word count : 5.3k
a/n : i miss race weekends | there's a lot more plot to this compared to the previous days
main masterlist | kinktober masterlist
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September 22, 2024 - 10:36 PM
Lando was riding a high of adrenaline and joy as the checkered flag waved at the finish line, signaling his victory at the Singapore Grand Prix. His team swarmed around him, celebrating and congratulating him for the hard-earned win, but it was the person waiting in the pit stands that caught his eye.
Y/n stood there, smiling and waving, watching Lando's success. He couldn't help but grin wider, seeing his best friend's proud expression. He knew that she had been there cheering him on, supporting him every step of the way.
Lando quickly shook off the other team members, making his way over to where Y/n stood. He walked with a slight swagger, still riding the high of the race win. Once he reached his friend, he flashed a cocky smirk, before enveloping her in a tight hug.
"Told you I'd win." He murmured jokingly, pulling back to look Y/n in the eye.
Y/n laughed, returning the hug and rolling their eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You're so full of yourself." She teased playfully, punching him lightly in the arm.
Lando just chuckled, shrugging. "Hey, can you blame me? I just won the damn race. I feel like I could take on the world right now."
She chuckled at his boastful statement, shaking her head in amusement. "More like your ego could take on the world. Careful, your head might not fit through the doors anymore if it gets any bigger."
He gasped in mock offense. "Hey, my head is the perfect size, thank you very much." Lando protested jokingly, running a hand through his hair. "Besides, you love my ego and you know it."
Y/n rolled her eyes again, but couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, yeah. Your ego is just so charming, how could I resist." She replied sarcastically, pretending to swoon.
Lando looked at Y/n apologetically. "I hate to cut this short, but I gotta go give some interviews and stuff. But I'll meet you in the hotel lobby in a bit, and we'll go out and celebrate. Sound good?"
She nodded, understanding. "Yeah, no worries. Go do your press stuff." Y/n said with a smile. "I'll see you in a bit in the lobby."
Lando nodded, already turning to walk away when he suddenly stopped and turned back, a mischievous grin on his face. He leaned in, placing a quick kiss on Y/n's cheek before realizing what he'd just done.
He froze, realizing how he may have crossed a line. He quickly blurted out a "thank you" and turned away, heading off to do his interviews while leaving Y/n shocked and confused by the unexpected display of affection.
Y/n was left standing there, feeling her cheek where Lando had kissed her before walking away. They were both shocked and confused by his actions, unsure of what to make of it.
Y/n took a moment to compose herself, shaking her head to snap out of the daze and heading back to the hotel. As she walked, she couldn't stop thinking about the kiss on the cheek. Did it mean something, or was it just a spontaneous act in the heat of the moment? Y/n wasn't sure, but the thought of it made her chest flutter.
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September 22, 2024 - 11:43 PM
An hour or so later, Y/n was waiting in the hotel lobby, just as they had agreed upon. She was sitting on a plush couch in the lobby, scrolling through her phone, when suddenly, they heard a familiar voice say, "Hey, there you are."
Y/n looked up from her phone to see Lando strolling toward her, looking more casual now that he wasn't in his race suit. He was wearing a simple shirt and jeans, his hair tousled and messy from the helmet. He gave her a charming grin as he approached.
"Sorry to keep you waiting. The interviews took longer than I thought they would." He said, sitting down next to Y/n on the couch.
"It's all good," Y/n replied with a smile. "At least you're free now, and we can go out and celebrate."
Lando leaned back on the couch, stretching his arms above his head. "Yeah, I'm all yours now. So, what's the plan for the night?"
Y/n stood up, a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Alright, we're going out for drinks. I know a great bar nearby that has the best cocktails. Sound good?"
Lando groaned as she grabbed his wrist, pulling him up from the couch. "Hey, can a guy get a little break after winning a Grand Prix? I just sat down." He protested jokingly, feigning resistance.
Y/n just laughed, not releasing her grip on his wrist. "Nope, no breaks. We're going out to celebrate. Come on, get up." She tugged him lightly, urging him to follow her.
Lando rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "Fine, fine. I'll come, but only because you're practically dragging me out the door." He grumbled dramatically.
She smiled as she led Lando out of the hotel, still holding onto his wrist. "And the bar is just a few minutes walk from here, so it's not far," she said, glancing at him. "Plus, some fresh air will do you good. You probably need to clear your head from all those interviews, anyway."
Lando huffed in agreement, secretly enjoying the feeling of her holding onto him. "Yeah, the interviews were exhausting. I swear, they ask the same damn questions every time. I could give all the answers in my sleep at this point."
Y/n chuckled, giving his wrist a playful tug. "Don't get yourself too worked up. We're here to have fun tonight, remember? No thinking about interviews or racing or any of that stuff."
Lando smiled, nodding in agreement. "You're right, you're right. Tonight is all about letting loose and celebrating. No work, no racing… just us and some good drinks."
She grinned at that, and they continued walking until they reached the bar. The place was buzzing with energy, music could be heard from inside, and the neon signs above the door flickered alluringly.
Lando gazed at the bar, seeing the lively atmosphere within. "Looks like this place is popular," he commented, looking down at Y/n. "How did you even find this place, anyway?"
Y/n looked up at Lando, a smile on her lips as she answered his question. "Oh, I came here with Alexandra for a girls' night out a few months ago. It's a pretty cool spot. Good drinks and good music."
Lando raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you've already been here? And you didn't tell me about it until now?" He feigned indignation, giving her a playful nudge with his elbow.
Y/n shrugged her shoulders, a playful smirk on her face. "Hey, it's not my fault you were partying it up in Ibiza while I was here in Singapore. You weren't exactly available for bar hopping."
Lando chuckled at that, conceding her point. "Alright, alright, fair enough. I was having a blast in Ibiza, but I guess I missed out on some good bars here in Singapore."
Y/n gave Lando a teasing smile before guiding him into the bar. The music inside was even more vibrant, the sound of laughter and conversation filling the air. They found a spot at the bar, and Y/n gestured for Lando to sit down next to her.
Lando took a seat on the barstool next to Y/n, glancing around the place. The bar was dimly lit, with colorful lights casting a warm, inviting glow over everything. People were gathered around, chatting and enjoying their drinks, adding to the lively atmosphere.
Y/n called the bartender over and ordered a cocktail for herself. Then, she turned to Lando and asked, "What do you want to drink? Something strong, or something a bit fancier?"
He contemplated for a moment, leaning against the bar. "Hmm, I'm feeling like something classic tonight. I think I'll go with a gin and tonic."
She nodded, relaying Lando's order to the bartender. "One gin and tonic for the grand prix winner, please," Y/n said with a smile. The bartender nodded and began preparing their orders.
Lando chuckled at Y/n's remark, his ego slightly boosted. "You know, I could get used to you calling me a grand prix winner." He said, a hint of pride in his voice.
Y/n chuckled and rolled her eyes at Lando's comment. "Oh, come on. This isn't your first win, Norris. You've won two races before this one, remember?"
He glanced at Y/n, a sly smile on his lips. "Yeah, but this time it's different. You were actually here to witness my win. And I must say, it felt fucking good."
Y/n smiled mischievously, deciding to tease Lando a bit. She leaned closer to him, a playful glint in her eyes. "Oh, I see what's going on here. You have such a huge crush on me, don't you?"
Lando chuckled at her remark and responded with a hint of banter, "Hey, hey, that was high school, alright? We're adults now. We've moved on and grown past all that silly crush stuff."
Y/n chuckled as well, enjoying their playful banter. "Is that so? So you're saying you don't have a crush on me anymore?" She raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile on her face.
He rolled his eyes, trying to maintain a nonchalant expression. "Yeah, yeah, I've totally moved on. No more silly crushes here." He took a sip of his gin and tonic, clearly not fooling Y/n for a second.
She just smiled, not believing him for a moment. She knew Lando well enough to know that he was just playing tough. "Uh-huh, sure you have. And the moon is made of cheese, right? And pigs can fly."
Lando huffed in mock indignation, trying to keep up his act. "Hey, I'll have you know, I'm a sophisticated man now. I don't have crushes like some high school kid. That's all in the past."
Y/n couldn't help but laugh loudly at Lando's statement. "Oh, because those flings totally prove you're over crushes and completely sophisticated now, right?" She teased with a smirk.
He rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smile at her sarcasm. "Alright, alright, fine. Maybe I've had a few flings and whatnot, but that doesn't prove anything. That's just casual stuff, not the same as having a crush."
She grinned and rolled her eyes again, amused by Lando's attempts to deny his feelings. "Oh, c'mon, finish your drink. We're here here to celebrate and let loose. Let's go out there and dance a little, shall we?"
Lando downed the rest of his gin and tonic with a smirk. "Alright, alright, you've convinced me. Let's go dance." He stood up from his barstool, offering a hand to Y/n.
Y/n took his hand with a smile and hopped off her own barstool, following Lando toward the dance floor of the bar. The music was pumping, the lights were flashing, and a group of people were already dancing on the floor.
He led her into the midst of the dance floor, finding a spot for them to dance. As the music played, they both started swaying and moving to the beat. With each step and move, their bodies would occasionally brush against each other, sending sparks of electricity through them.
She could feel her pulse quickening as she danced with Lando. Their bodies moved in sync with the music, each step bringing them closer together. The atmosphere was electrifying with Lando so close, the heat between them undeniable
Lando's fingers gently traced small circles on her hip, the touch sending shivers down her spine. The music and the people around them seemed to fade into the background as they swayed together, their eyes locked onto each other.
He couldn't resist pulling her even closer, their bodies now pressed against each other. Lando's arm wrapped around her waist, holding her in place as they continued to move to the music. Her scent, the way she felt against him, it was driving him wild.
Lando's lips, hot and needy, began to trail kisses down her neck, his grip on her waist tightening slightly. Everywhere his lips touched sent a rush of heat through her body, a small gasp escaping her lips.
His tongue darted out, tracing a path along her sensitive skin, his lips alternating between soft kisses and lingering nibbles. The sensation was maddening, her mind clouding with desire as he continued his exploration of her neck.
A soft moan escaped Y/n's lips as Lando continued his assault on her neck. Her hands clutched at the fabric of his shirt, her body arching against his. "L-Lando," she gasped softly, her voice filled with a mixture of need and desire.
Y/n's words were barely above a whisper, her voice hoarse with need. "Not here," she repeated, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and desire. Lando had the exact same thought running through his mind.
Lando pulled back reluctantly, his lips leaving her neck with a final lingering kiss. He looked at her, his eyes darkened with lust, taking in her flushed cheeks and the way she was gripping his shirt. He knew exactly what she meant, and the same need was burning through him.
"Let's go," Lando murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. He took her hand in his, the skin-to-skin contact sending another jolt of electricity through them.
The two of them practically sprinted out of the bar, the cool night air doing little to cool their ardor. The hotel wasn't far, but the short walk felt like an eternity as their bodies practically ached with desire.
They reached the hotel lobby, their breaths coming out in slightly ragged pants. Lando led Y/n towards the elevator, practically hitting the button to call it impatiently. As they waited, Lando turned towards Y/n, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and need.
As the elevator doors open, Lando gently shoved Y/n into the elevator with the doors quickly closing behind them. As the elevator began to move upwards, Lando backed her against the wall of the elevator, trapping her between his body and the cold metal.
Lando wasted no time, his lips finding hers in a searing kiss. His hands came up to cup her face, holding her in place as his tongue darted out to trace the seam of her lips.
The kiss grew more intense, and Y/n found herself responding to him. Her body melted against his, her hands gripping his shoulders as a soft moan escaped her lips. "Lando…" she whispered, her voice filled with need.
The elevator continued to ascend, and Y/n's mind was clouded with need. Lando's lips left hers briefly, only to blaze a trail of hot kisses down her neck. She found herself arching against him, whispering "More…please" as her body ached for his touch.
Lando seemed encouraged by her pleading, his hands roaming her body as his lips continued their assault on her neck. He pressed his body against hers, his hips slowly rutting against her in a teasing rhythm.
"Gods, you're driving me crazy," Lando muttered, his voice hoarse with desire. His hands moved lower, cupping her hips and pulling her impossibly close so they were flush against each other.
Lando grudgingly pulled back, reluctantly detaching his mouth from Y/N's neck. The elevator doors opened with a soft 'ding,' signaling they had reached his floor. Lando stepped back, reluctantly removing his hands from her hips.
His eyes burned as he looked at her; her lips slightly swollen, skin flushed, and hair disheveled. The sight of her sent another jolt of need through him, but he managed to resist the urge to pull her back into his arms. Instead, he gestured for her to follow him down the hallway towards his hotel room.
Lando fumbled with the key card, opening the door to his room. He ushered Y/N inside, his eyes never leaving her. The moment the door shut behind them, Lando pushed Y/N against it, and the sound of the door slamming echoed in the quiet room.
His body pressed against hers, trapping her between the cool wood of the door and his warm, solid frame. His hands found her wrists, pinning them above her head as his lips crashed against hers in a passionate, bruising kiss.
Y/n and Lando were both feeling the effects of the alcohol they had consumed earlier that night. Their inhibitions lowered, they found themselves drawn to each other, their bodies pressed close together as they made out passionately against the door.
Y/n's heart raced as Lando's lips met hers, their tongues entwining in a sensual dance. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, his strong hands roaming over her curves. The sensation sent shivers down her spine, and she couldn't help but let out a soft moan.
Lando's hands slid down to Y/n's hips, pulling her even closer to him. He could feel her soft breasts pressing against his chest, and it only fueled his desire for her. His lips trailed down to her neck, leaving a path of hot kisses along her skin.
Y/n tilted her head back, giving Lando better access to her sensitive neck. She could feel his teeth grazing her skin, and it sent a jolt of pleasure through her body. Her hands reached up to tangle in his hair, holding him close as he continued his assault on her senses.
Lando's strong arms easily lifted Y/n, carrying her over to the nearby bed. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he laid her down gently on the soft mattress. The movement caused her short dress to ride up, revealing the tantalizing sight of her light blue lace panties.
Lando's breath caught in his throat at the erotic view. He drank in the sight of Y/n's long, toned legs and the delicate fabric barely covering her most intimate area. Desire coursed through his veins, his arousal growing with each passing second.
Y/n looked up at Lando with lust-filled eyes, a coy smile playing on her lips. She could see the hunger in his gaze as it roamed over her body. Slowly, teasingly, she reached down and hooked her fingers in the waistband of her panties.
"Do you like what you see, Lando?" Y/n purred, her voice low and seductive. She slowly started to slide the lace down her legs, revealing more of her smooth, creamy skin, before putting them back on teasingly.
Lando knelt before Y/n, his hands gently caressing her thighs as he leaned in to leave a trail of hot kisses along her smooth skin. "God, I fucking love this view," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "You're so pretty, so perfect."
Y/n shivered with anticipation as Lando's lips moved higher and higher up her thighs. She could feel the heat of his breath on her sensitive skin, and it only heightened her arousal. Her fingers tangled in his hair, guiding him closer to her aching core.
Lando's fingers hooked into the waistband of Y/n's panties, slowly pulling them down and off her legs. He tossed them aside, his eyes feasting on the glistening wetness between her thighs. "You're so wet for me, baby," he growled, his voice thick with lust.
Unable to resist any longer, Lando leaned in and ran his tongue along Y/n's slit, savoring the taste of her arousal. She let out a gasp, her hips bucking against his face as he continued to explore her most intimate area with his tongue.
Y/n's moans grew louder and more frequent as Lando devoured her like a man starved. His tongue delved deep into her dripping folds, lapping up her arousal. He alternated between broad strokes and targeted flicks against her sensitive clit, driving her wild with pleasure.
"Oh god, Lando! Yes, just like that!" Y/n cried out, her voice trembling with ecstasy. Her fingers tightened in his hair, holding him firmly against her as she ground her hips against his face. The obscene sounds of his mouth on her pussy filled the room, mixing with her moans.
Lando groaned against her, the vibrations adding to her pleasure. He could feel her thighs beginning to quiver and tense around his head, signaling her impending release. Determined to bring her over the edge, he redoubled his efforts, sucking hard on her clit as he thrust two fingers deep inside her tight cunt.
Y/n's eyes flew open as she felt Lando's fingers suddenly plunge into her wet heat. She looked down at him, her eyes wide and filled with shock and arousal. Their gazes locked, and the intensity of the moment sent a jolt of electricity through her body.
Lando's fingers pumped in and out of her, curling to hit that special spot inside her that made her see stars. His thumb rubbed circles on her clit, the dual stimulation pushing her closer and closer to the edge.
"Eyes on me, baby," he commanded, his voice muffled against her sensitive flesh. "I want to see your face when you cum."
Y/n's breath came in short, sharp gasps as Lando's fingers worked their magic inside her. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his, the connection between them only heightening her pleasure. Her body tensed, the coil of tension in her lower belly winding tighter and tighter.
Lando could sense her impending orgasm, and he doubled down on his efforts. He sucked hard on her clit, his fingers pumping furiously in and out of her dripping cunt. He wanted to feel her come undone, to watch her face as she lost herself in the throes of passion.
With a final flick of his tongue and a deep thrust of his fingers, Y/n finally reached her breaking point. Her body convulsed, her back arching off the bed as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed over her. "Lando!" she screamed, his name falling from her lips like a prayer.
Lando continued to work her through her orgasm, his fingers and tongue bringing her down from the high. As her body went limp, he pulled back and looked up at her with a satisfied grin. "That's it, baby."
Lando stood up, his face glistening with Y/n's juices. His eyes were dark with lust, his cock straining against the confines of his pants. With a growl, he quickly stripped off his clothes, tossing them haphazardly on the floor until he stood before her completely naked.
Y/n's gaze roamed over his muscular body, taking in every inch of his tanned skin and hard planes. Her eyes zeroed in on his impressive erection, standing proud and ready. She licked her lips, already craving more of him.
Lando climbed onto the bed, crawling over Y/n's prone form. He hovered above her, his hips nestled between her thighs. "I need to be inside you," he rasped, his voice rough with desire. "I need to feel your tight little pussy wrapped around my cock."
Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist, using her heels to urge him closer. "Then take me," she breathed, her nails raking down his back. "Fuck me hard, Lando. Make me yours."
Lando positioned himself at Y/n's entrance, the head of his cock teasing her slick folds. He could feel the heat emanating from her core, beckoning him to plunge into her depths. With a swift thrust of his hips, he buried himself inside her, groaning at the exquisite sensation of her tight walls enveloping him.
"Oh fuck, you feel amazing," Lando grunted, his hands gripping her hips as he began to move. He set a relentless pace, his thick cock stretching and filling her with each powerful thrust.
Y/n's head fell back, her eyes fluttering closed as she reveled in the feeling of being so thoroughly claimed by Lando. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her hips rising to meet his every stroke. "Yes, just like that!" she cried out, her voice a mix of pleasure and desperation.
Lando's thrusts grew harder and faster, his balls slapping against her ass as he drove into her again and again. He could feel her tightening around him, her body responding to his every move. "You're so fucking tight," he growled, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips.
Y/n's body tensed, her back arching off the bed as her second orgasm crashed over her. "Oh god, Lando! I'm cumming!" she screamed, her walls clamping down around his throbbing cock.
The sensation of her coming undone around him pushed Lando over the edge. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, his cock pulsing as he released his load. But instead of staying inside her, he pulled out at the last moment, his hot seed spurting onto her stomach and breasts.
"Fuck, Y/n," Lando groaned, his hips jerking as he emptied himself onto her. Pulling out, he watched as his cum coated her skin, marking her as his.
Barely giving Y/n a moment to catch her breath, Lando lifted her up. His strong hands gripped her hips, lifting her up and positioning her so that she was straddling his face. "I'm not done with you yet," he growled, his voice muffled against her dripping folds.
Y/n gasped as she felt Lando's tongue delve into her sensitive cunt, his lips and teeth nipping at her swollen clit. Her hands braced against the headboard, her body already trembling with renewed arousal.
Lando's hands gripped her ass, spreading her open for him as he devoured her like a man possessed. He alternated between long, slow licks and quick flicks of his tongue, driving her wild with pleasure.
"Oh fuck, Lando!" Y/n cried out, her hips grinding against his face. She could feel another orgasm building, the coil of tension in her belly winding tighter and tighter.
Y/n's eyes drifted down to Lando's cock, still rock hard and glistening with their combined juices. A wicked grin spread across her face as she leaned down, her breasts pressing against his thighs as she brought her lips to the tip of his member.
She placed a soft kiss on the head, her tongue darting out to lap up the drops of precum. Lando groaned against her pussy, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. Encouraged by his reaction, Y/n took him into her mouth, her lips stretching around his girth.
In the 69 position, they pleasured each other with reckless abandon. Y/n bobbed her head up and down his shaft, taking him deeper into her throat with each pass. Lando's tongue delved into her folds, lapping up her sweet nectar as he brought her closer and closer to the edge.
As Lando's tongue worked its magic on Y/n's sensitive clit, she could feel her orgasm building rapidly. Her hips bucked against his face, her moans muffled by his thick cock filling her mouth. She took him deeper, her throat constricting around him as she gagged on his length.
Lando's own pleasure mounted, his cock twitching in Y/n's mouth as he approached his climax. He could feel her tightening around him, her body trembling with the force of her impending release. With a final, powerful thrust of his tongue, he sent her over the edge.
Y/n's scream of ecstasy was cut off by Lando's cock as he erupted in her mouth. Her eyes watered, tears streaming down her face as she struggled to swallow his hot seed. The sensation of his cum hitting the back of her throat only intensified her own orgasm, her body shaking uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her.
Lando's insatiable desire for Y/n showed no signs of abating. As they both came down from their intense orgasms, he pulled her off his body, repositioning her so that she was straddling him. He leaned back against the headboard, his hands gripping her hips as he guided her onto his still-hard cock.
"Ride me, baby," Lando growled, his voice thick with lust. "I want to feel you bouncing on my dick."
Y/n's body was still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm, her eyes glazed over with a mix of pleasure and exhaustion. She placed her hands on his chest for balance, slowly lowering herself onto his throbbing member. A soft gasp escaped her lips as he stretched her once again, filling her completely.
She began to move, her hips rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Lando's hands roamed over her body, squeezing her breasts and pinching her nipples as she rode him. The combination of pain and pleasure only served to heighten her arousal, her walls clenching around him with each thrust.
Y/n's movements became more erratic, her body struggling to keep up with the relentless pace Lando had set. "I can't... I can't take anymore," she whimpered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lando's grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. "Be a good girl f' me," he commanded, his voice low and authoritative. "I know you can take another round."
Tears streamed down Y/n's face as she tried to comply with his demands. Her body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for relief. But the thought of letting Lando down was too much to bear. She gritted her teeth, pushing through the pain and exhaustion as she continued to ride him.
Lando could sense her struggle, but he refused to relent. He wanted to push her to her limits, to see just how much she could take. His cock throbbed inside her, the sensation of her tight walls clenching around him driving him closer to the edge.
Despite her exhaustion, Y/n found the strength to continue riding Lando's cock. Her hips moved in a steady rhythm, rising and falling as she took him deep inside her. The pain and pleasure mixed together, creating a heady cocktail that left her dizzy with sensation.
Lando's hands roamed over her body, squeezing and kneading her soft flesh. He pinched her nipples, twisting them slightly as he watched her face contort with a mix of pain and pleasure. "That's it, baby," he growled, his voice low and rough. "Take it all for me."
Y/n's moans grew louder, her body trembling with the effort of keeping up with Lando's relentless pace. She could feel another orgasm building, the coil of tension in her belly winding tighter and tighter.
Lando could sense her impending release, and he doubled his efforts. His hips bucked up to meet her downward thrusts, his cock hitting that special spot inside her that made her see stars. "Cum for me, Y/n," he demanded, his voice thick with lust.
Y/n's body tensed, her back arching as she felt her orgasm approaching. She gritted her teeth, pushing herself to the limit as she rode Lando's cock with increasing fervor. Her walls began to flutter around him, signaling her imminent release.
"Oh god, Lando!" she cried out, her voice raw with emotion. "I'm going to cum!"
Lando's grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he thrust up into her with powerful strokes. "That's it, baby," he growled, his own release building. "Let go for me. Cum all over my cock."
With a final, desperate thrust, Y/n reached her breaking point. Her body convulsed, her walls clamping down around Lando's throbbing member as she came undone. The sensation of her tightening around him was too much for Lando to bear, and with a guttural groan, he erupted inside her, his hot seed filling her with each powerful pulse.
As they both came down from their intense orgasms, Lando leaned forward, capturing Y/n's lips in a passionate kiss. His hands caressed her face, his thumbs wiping away the tears that still clung to her lashes. "You did so good, baby," he murmured against her lips. "I'm so proud of you."
Y/n's body went limp, her head resting on Lando's shoulder as she tried to catch her breath. She could feel his cock still inside her, softening but not yet fully withdrawn. The sensation was comforting, a reminder of the incredible pleasure they had just shared.
Lando continued to pepper her face with gentle kisses, his lips trailing along her jawline and down her neck. "You're amazing," he whispered, his voice filled with admiration and affection.
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Crazy, What You’ll Do for a Friend
Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader
Summary: After Hotch gets hurt out in the field, you and the other members of the BAU take turns taking care of Hotch at his home. Reader want to make sure she can help Hotch in whatever way she can.
CW: Hotch having an attitude bc of course he does, sex fantasy, needy!Hotch, oral m!receiving, fingering
a/n: Hotch is literally the master of flirting when he isn’t at work I cannot with him, this is more short and sweet than most my stories
This is the other Fanfic from the poll!
READ PART 2
~~~
Reid answered the door. Bright smile on his face greeting you, “Hey.”
“Hey,” you smiled back at him.
“Come on in,” Reid moved out of the doorway allowing you to pass by him. You waited in the entry way for Reid to close the door.
“How is he?”
“Uhm— good. Mad that we’re here,” he laughed awkwardly.
You cocked an eyebrow, silently. A few weeks ago, Hotch had gotten caught up in the line of fire. Getting struck in his thigh and stomach. Lucky to not have bled out on the field. The day was a harsh memory that you refused to let go. Making sure to never let anyone else make the same mistakes as him again. Never feeling weaker than seeing him in the hospital bed. The Team had all agreed to take care of Hotch while he was on home rest. Taking shifts throughout the weeks.
You followed behind Reid into the living room.
“What are you doing here?” Hotch gritted through his teeth. Only wearing some loose fitting sweat pants and a tight white t-shirt. A strong contrast from his usual suit and tie. Straining as he attempted to get off the couch by himself. Reid rushed over to him, lifting him by his shoulder. Hotch swatted at the Doctor, attempting to jerk away.
“We’re all taking turns helping you. Guess I’m on Hotch Duty for tonight,” you shrugged your shoulders, giving him a closed mouth smile.
Hotch’s brows furrowed tightly, vein on his neck popping. “I don’t need help. What I need is to get back to work,” Hotch pushed Reid away as he finally got to his feet. Reid threw his hands up in a defensive position still close behind your boss.
“Yeah, it really looks like it,” you rolled your eyes as you folded your arms over your chest.
Hotch shot a chilling look your way, but you were unwavering. “I’m still your superior—“
“And right now I’m your caretaker. I’m sure Reid has been letting you boss him around, but I’m not going to let that happen. No offense, Spence,” you stated. Spencer waved his hand up to let you know he was not offended.
Hotch’s hand gripped the arm of the couch with a bruising strength. Barely able to hold himself up properly. A slight shake to his body. Angry that you, of all people, were talking to him this way. Fighting the way his heart swelled as soon as his eyes laid upon you in his living room today.
You and Hotch had grown close in the last few years. Growing into a mutual unspoken want for one another. Casually flirting when you were alone or not at work. Keeping each other company on extremely late nights at the office. Getting closer than you realistically should, given the field you worked in.
“Reid, you can go,” Hotch did not break eye contact with you.
“A-Are you sure—“
“We’ll be fine, Spence,” you smiled eyes locked in on Hotch’s.
Reid grabbed his bag and headed for the door, “If you guys need anything I’m only a text away.”
“Thank you,” you said still not breaking with Hotch. His deep brown eyes made your heart skip a beat. The wrinkles on his face as he attempted to intimidate made you blush. Not speaking until the door closed behind Reid.
“Are you gonna have an attitude with me all night?” You teased, cheeks beaming with heat. Hotch blew air out of his nose. Skin tightly pinched between his eyebrows. Refusing to speak to you. “Oh, come on. Your favorite boy is gone, you don’t have to keep up the mean-mug,” you walked over closing the space between you. Extending your arm out to him so that he could brace himself to walk.
His jaw clenched. Stubbornness being a strong suit of his. Hesitantly taking your offer of help. “Where are we heading?”
“I need to use the bathroom,” Hotch grumbled.
Slowly, you assisted him to the bathroom tucked away next to his living room. Standing in the doorway as you allowed him to shimmy himself over to the toilet. Not even thinking of what you were doing, until Hotch gave you a strange look.
“Are you wanting to watch?”
Your face flooded. Stammering as you cupped your own cheek. Shaking your head with closed eyes. Smiling awkwardly, “Sorry—“
Hotch had to fight the smile that dared creep across his face. Enjoying how flustered you were. You reached in to pull the door shut. Leaning against the wall directly next to the bathroom. Hands gripping your hair in embarrassment as you replayed the moment over and over. Trying to cool the heat in your cheeks.
Straightening your posture when you heard the door click open. Greeting him with a soft smile and your arm extended. His brows were still pressed together. Lips in a thin line as he hooked his arm around yours. Leading him back into the living room so that he could get comfortable.
The night slipped away. Preparing dinner for your boss as he sat at the counter. Dying to get up. Hating to be taken care of. Denying the comfort he felt with you nestled in his home.
“Hotch, I can hear you bouncing your leg, cut it out,” you did not even look over your shoulder to give him eye contact. He scoffed, the sound of his leg subsiding.
“I know you hate all this. Really I do,” you softly spoke to him as you plated the food, “But all of us just want to see you get better. We want our leader back in his best shape. I want you to relax and let me take care of you.”
Hotch’s eyes watched every move you made. Stalking you like his prey as you brought the plate over to him. Expression unchanging, “How am I supposed to relax? There’s cases and I’ve been away so long already. I can’t stay cooped up here forever.”
“And you won’t. The sooner you take it easy, the sooner you can come back,” you flattened your hand against his shoulder. Hotch’s expression softened with your gesture. Swiftly directing his attention onto the food in front of him. Something about the interaction caused your cheeks to warm up. Unsure what that was about. Walking over to his fridge.
“What can I get you to drink?”
“Just water,” Hotch took a bite of food.
“Aw, you don’t wanna crack open a bottle of wine and reveal our darkest secrets to each other?” You teased, looking over your shoulder at him. Seeing his brows pushed together. Lips in a strong, straight line.
“Okay— tough crowd,” you widened your eyes as you closed the fridge. Going to grab a cup out of the cabinet to fill it for him. Walking over and taking the seat beside him. Silently eating dinner together. Guess you did not have much to talk about. And he was clearly in no mood to chit-chat.
“You’re a good cook,” Hotch broke the silence with a compliment.
“You’re telling me Reid didn’t prepare you a four coarse, perfectly diet-balanced meal while he was here?” You teased. Finally, breaking away Hotch’s hard shell. A soft chuckle coming from him. “I’m sure he would’ve had a slideshow to explain it all too,” you grinned.
“He wouldn’t need the slideshow, he could explain it all to me himself,” Hotch joked as he pulled the food from his fork. Feeling comfortable for the first time together. Allowing both your walls down. Sharing in your laughter.
You both finished your dinner. Taking the plates and putting them in the sink. Allowing Hotch to walk on his own to put his away. Standing beside him the entire time. You interlocked arms with him to lead him into the living room. Grunting as he sat down, eyes closing as he rested his head against the back.
“Is there anything I can do for you? I’ll do whatever you need to relax,” you smiled, standing in front of him.
Something about that seeped into his imagination. Feeling his cock jump when an imagine of you kneeled between his legs popped into his mind. With everyone here, he had not had any alone time. Needing to let out some of the things pent up inside him. Your lips wrapped perfectly around his cock—
“No,” Hotch blurted out. Aggression returning to him. Catching you off guard and causing a bit of frustration to bubble up inside you. You scoffed and headed into the kitchen to do the dishes, “Don’t try anything while I’m in there.”
Once you disappeared around the corner, he relaxed again. Clicking mindlessly through the channels on the TV. Trying to distract himself. Looking down at his half-hard cock. Embarrassed that he was thinking of one of his subordinates in the way he was. Still he allowed himself to fantasize.
Imagining how beautiful you would look sat upon his lap. Straddling his waist as you sunk down onto him. Thinking about how you would sound moaning his name when the head would hit somewhere just right inside you. Dying to know how perfectly he would fill you up. He needed something— anything from you.
Allowing his hand to softly touch his aching member. Only making things worse for him. His face contorted as he squinted his eyes shut. Mouth hanging open slightly.
God, he was such a pervert.
Jumping when he heard the water stop in the sink. Footsteps enclosing on the room. In the time you had done the dishes, you had calmed down from Hotch’s outburst. Knowing and rationalizing that he was going through a lot and sometimes he would be more vulnerable than others. Greeting him with a bright smile. Grabbing your bag off the kitchen chair, “Do you mind if I go change?”
“Of course not,” Hotch breathed out.
“I’ll know if you strain while I’m gone,” you smirked.
Hotch grinned back at you. Watching you until you faded away into the bathroom, door clicking behind you. Thank God he had one of the best poker face’s around. Finally allowing himself to breathe.
His erection pressed against the soft fabric of his sweats. Driving him absolutely insane. He pondered if he would have time to rub it out before you got back from changing. Softly playing with himself as he thought. Groaning at the feeling of his fingers trailing his length. Trying to control his breathing as to not make any overtly sexual sounds.
Oh, God, how he needed it. His cock pulsed with pure desire. Something he did not think his hand alone could fill. He felt pathetic. Preparing to ask you what he was going to.
The door creaked open. You came back to see him still in the same spot as before. He looked over his shoulder, eyes widening when he saw you. Wearing a loose fit t-shirt and some sporty shorts. Hair relaxed and quite a bit of skin showing.
“Hope you don’t mind, your house kinda runs hot,” you smiled, suddenly aware of his eyes on your body. Loving the attention he was giving. Blushing as his jaw hung open softly.
There were not many occasions where members of the BAU saw each other outside of work. Normally dressed in business attire, making sure to look extremely respectable and professional. Used to the button-ups and slacks. Not a shirt that perfectly hugged your chest and some shorts that were barely revealed under the length of your top.
As if he wasn’t hard enough already.
You sat on the other end of the couch beside him. Only a small pillow between your bodies. Legs crossing, causing your shorts to hike further up your thighs. Revealing the extra soft spots closer to your core.
“Anything good on?”
Hotch hesitated, “No.”
You widened your eyes at his short answer. Not sure what had gotten him so irritable in the last bit. Not wanting to push him. Choosing to stay quiet as you leaned against the arm of the couch. Watching some old sci-fi movie he had landed on. They were shooting out with some aliens. No telling what over, the movie was half way over by the time Hotch got to it.
The glow of the TV was all that illuminated the room. Flashes of colors dancing across your skin. Silently staring at the flat screen. Thinking about nonsense, just trying to feed your mind.
“Y/N,” Hotch began, hint of a break in his voice. You looked over at him. He had sweat beaming on his forehead. “You… you said earlier that you would help me in whatever way you could?”
You nodded, “Of course, Hotch. I’m here to please.”
His skin tingled. The innocent look behind your eyes pushing him even more on edge. He was silently opening and closing his mouth. Brows netted together as he breathed heavy. Tension so thick in the room neither of you could catch your breath.
“This is so inappropriate,” he softly chuckled to himself, stretching his neck, voice not above a whisper. Feeling your own heartbeat pound out of your chest. Hotch sighed, “I need to cum.”
Your eyes flew harshly open. Lips parting as you attempting to respond to him. Face immediately flushing with arousal as you clinched around nothing. Eyes shooting down to his crotch. Surprised to see the outline of his cock pressing against his pants. Thin, soft material not hiding his length.
“Either you can help me, or I need you to leave the room so I can handle it myself,” Hotch quickly said, desperation on his tone.
“Do you… want… me to-to help?” You shyly questioned.
Hotch smiled with an exhale. Perfect teeth on display for the first time tonight as he closed his eyes and leaned against the back of the couch. Blinking open to lock into you, “Yes.”
Such a simple statement. Causing so much confusion inside you. Of course, you had been flirting back and forth for some time now. And yes the idea of seeing Hotch’s cock, especially how it fit in your hand, had your body tingling.
But what about work?
What would your coworkers say? What would your superiors say? What if this was only for tonight?
You threw caution to the wind. Choosing to have some fun with him, even if you never spoke of this again.
You crawled closer to him on the couch, Hotch’s arm wrapping around your back when you sat on your knees. One of his hands coming up to grip at your t-shirt. Pulling the collar down with his finger and looking down it. Smiling at the sight of your lightly covered breasts. Blushing at how natural his hands felt on you. Leaning in to place your lips on his neck. Breath hitching in his throat at the soft feeling.
“Did you do this with all the other girls?” You asked between kisses, genuine curiosity and a bit of shame taking over your senses.
“Of course not,” Hotch exhaled, “You know it’s only you.”
You kissed up his jugular, resting along his jawline. Hotch’s smile never left his face as you feathered your lips along his skin. Hand running strong fingers up and down your back. Your own hand gently ghosting down his front to rest on his hard cock.
Hotch’s body twitched, causing him a small amount of pain. Wincing as he squinted his eyes. “I’m so sorry—“
“Don’t be,” Hotch’s hand came up to cup your cheek. Pulling you into a passionate kiss. Lightning stimulated your nerves at his taste and feeling. Both of you humming together. Tongue slipping past your lips as it grazed your teeth. Hunger apparent by the way he held onto you. Smiling as you became overwhelmed with emotions.
“What?” Hotch asked, unable to stop himself from returning your expression. Cheeks glowing.
“I just… just wanna know what’s got you all worked up?” pressing your lips back to his as your hand outlines his shaft. Hotch’s throat tightened at your touch. Breathy and clingy.
“I’ve been locked up here, not even a second of alone time, for weeks. And when you have nothing else to do, your mind wanders. And mine kept going to the same place time and time again,” toothy grin taking over his expression as he continuing caressing your face.
You cocked an eyebrow at him, not saying anything back.
“You’re going to tell me you don’t masturbate?” Hotch chuckled, an offensive hint on his tone.
Your face flooded red as you remembered the last time you had. Remembering the image of Hotch’s body above yours, strong arms flexing on either side of your head, hips pumping into yours as he held eye contact.
“I… um— yeah, I do. I have a vibrator in my night stand,” you kissed him again. Loving how his shaft hardened against your touch.
“Hmm,” he hummed against your lips, “Wish you’d brought it with you.”
“Hotch,” you giggled, playful embarrassment in your voice.
“I know you look so pretty when you orgasm,” Hotch smiled between kisses. Your heart thumped in your chest. Overwhelmed in the best way possible. Fingers continuing to lightly rub against his length.
“Probably really pretty with your mouth around my cock too,” Hotch’s hand held onto the back of your head. Keeping your mouth against his.
“God- you are needing aren’t you?” You chuckled into his mouth. The two of you shared in making flirtatious noises. Continuing to latch onto one another’s mouths. Slowly sliding into the floor between his legs. Fluttering your lashes up at him as you leaned forward to play with his waistband.
“Please,” Hotch squinted his eyes closed. Jaw tensed and Adam’s apple bobbing.
Slowly, you helped raise his hips so that you could pull his sweatpants down his legs. Taking your time to make sure he did not have to overwork his body. Mouth watering when you saw the tent pitched in his boxer-briefs. Flattening your hands against his thighs, framing his cock.
Hotch’s hand tethered in your hair, lust blown eyes admiring you below him. Moaning when your lips pressed a kiss against his clothed member. Freeing his cock from its confides. Taking in all the details. Thick and swollen, vein running over the top side as his head leaked. Tongue licking a stripe up the underside.
Hotch rutted forward, moaning loudly as he gripped the couch for stability. Head leaned forward to watch you. Your hand gripped him at the base. Stroking upward with a twist of your wrist. Thumb swiping over the slit to collect the precum. Loving how his velvety skin felt in your palm.
Tender lips kissed along his shaft before sucking on the head.
“Oh my God,” Hotch groaned. Trying his hardest to not move. Not wanting to take away from the pleasure by causing himself pain. His brows upturned and jaw hung open as he watched you go lower onto him.
Stopping when your nose met the soft hair at his base. Gagging around him momentarily. Taste of him overwhelming any other sense you had. Your tongue flattened underneath him as you began to bob. Almost completely coming off him before going down again.
“So good,” Hotch praised breathlessly. Causing your own arousal to pool inside you. Wishing you could crawling into his lap and take his cock inside you. Knowing his body was in no shape for that kind of physical activity.
Having him squirm from your mouth would have to do for now.
Hotch looked so beautiful with his face all flushed and shoulders heaving. Chest rapidly rising and falling as he audibly breathed. Your hand came up to wrap around his base once more, allowing your lips to meet your fingers with each movement. Causing you to move much faster than before.
“Y/N,” Hotch moaned.
Feeling his cock twitch between your lips. His end was nearing. Continuing at the pace you had given him. Sloppy sounds coming from your mouth as your tongue swirled around his length.
“I’m close,” Hotch breathed out. His veins on his neck poking out as he strained back. Sounds of him whimpering and grunting was like music to your ears. Salty taste filling your mouth as he approached his finish. Twisting your wrist and going down further on him. Coaxing him to his end.
Hotch’s hand gripped the back of your hand with strong fingers as he came. Breath hitching in his throat as his jaw hung open. Looking down to watch you swallow the ropes of cum he shot into your mouth. Hand traveling down to caress your cheek when he was done. Thumb rubbing circles into your flushed cheeks.
You caught your breath as you doed your eyes up at him. Smiling as you rested your head into his hand. Licking your lips to get any remnants of him off your face.
Hotch patted the seat beside him. Instructing you to come sit with him once more. You rested your head on his shoulder as his arm wrapped around your lower back. Grateful lips kissing your head.
Finding a position that was comfortable for you both as you rested your eyes. Engulfed by his body heat and musk. His heartbeat thumped against your ear. The day catching up with you as you relaxed.
“We can go lay in bed,” Hotch softly suggested.
You nodded. Standing to your feet to help him up. Shuffling down the hallway as Hotch limped holding onto you. Walking him over to his large mattress. Hotch smiled up at you, fingers holding onto your hand as you stood in front of him. Looking like a lovesick fool before you. Causing you to blush because it was you that had him looking like that. Smiling wider than you had ever seen him.
“Are you sure… that you want me in here? If you’d rest better, I can go—“
“Don’t even try,” Hotch grinned, pulling your hand to his lips and gently kissing. Tugging you into the bed with him. Landing directly beside him. Giggling as you snuggled under the blanket with him. Hotch’s lips kissed every piece of skin he could. Coating you in his love.
“That was the best blowjob I’ve ever gotten,” Hotch’s lips finally found yours. Smiling with a soft chuckle ending his sentence.
“Glad I could help,” you scrunched your nose up with a smile. His hand caressed your cheek again, dark eyes scanning your entire face. Seeing you this close for one of the first times. Finally taking the time to look at every freckle, blemish, scar, or any other beauty mark you had. Never having had someone look at you the way he was now.
Your eyes were growing heavy. Blinking slowly until a yawn came over you. Rolling over to allow Hotch to hold you from behind. Closing your eyes as the plush of his pillows captured you.
His hand snaked around your front. Causing your chest to tighten when you felt him prying at your shorts. His nose trailed the valley of your neck and shoulder. Fingers going down the front of your panties.
“Aaron…?“
“Let me repay you,” Hotch whispered into your ear.
“You don’t owe me anything,” you sighed when his fingertips swiped over your sensitive bud.
“If I can’t fuck you, let me make you cum around my fingers,” Hotch’s deep voice vibrated into your skin. Fingers finding their way into your soaked folds. Circling them before inserting one. Causing you to arch into him and moan. A hum of approval came from him.
Curling his finger inside you as he massaged your insides. Thumb pressing into your clit. Shooting electricity through your veins. Your hand coming up to tangle in his hair. Locks lacing through your fingers. Your jaw hung open at the feeling of him adding an additional digit. Stretching you perfectly.
“Aaron,” you moaned, Hotch held your hand above your head. Fingers gently interlocking with yours while the air from his lips casted across your skin.
“Go ahead, I want to hear you,” Hotch kissed your shoulder.
You moaned at his words.
“Oh, pretty girl,” he cooed.
That familiar knot was tightening in your lower half. Hotch knew how to use his fingers. Causing your thighs to quiver and body to jolt. Sounds of him breathing filling your ears, sounding intoxicated by you. Never wanting you to leave his side.
You felt your pussy clench around his fingers. Insides growing more and more sensitive when he would hit the spongy spots.
“Are you gonna cum for me?”
You nodded aggressively. Whining as you rolled your hips against his fingers. Feeling his semi-hard cock press into your ass. Sweat dripped down your skin. Your heartbeat was in your ears as you felt your orgasm washing over you. Walls fluttering around Hotch’s fingers. Moaning his name like a mantra. Grinding down on his hand as your thighs shook.
Hotch smiled against your skin. Loving how you sounded begging and calling out to him. Wishing he could fuck you senseless. Wanting nothing more than to fill you up.
“I knew you’d look pretty orgasming,” lips kissed your cheek. You breathed heavily, grinning at his cocky voice. Rolling over to press your lips into his. Arms wrapping around his neck. Finally finding yourself the most comfortable you had been yet.
Drifting to sleep in his arms.
~~~
[END]
// Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate all the love I’ve gotten since writing for Hotch and love seeing everyone reply and comment and everything! As always, my requests are open! I have a Rossi x Reader planned in the next few days that was requested so keep an eye out for that! //
{tags}
@bondwithme-murderstyle ~ @mrs-ssa-hotch ~ @cherriready ~ @khxna ~ @justyourusualash ~ @boybandbaby ~ @hoffmanfan13 ~ @megangovier
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotch x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#thomas gibson#thomas gibson x reader#writing#fanfic#sexymonsterfics
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Hiii!! Could you do another non bau rich fem!reader where she gave Aaron lots of designer stuff and he starts wearing them to work? Like maybe ties, cuff links, and like an LV duffel bag and the team is just like “??? Woah dude where’d you get that??”
Subtle flex | [A.H]
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x rich fem!reader| WC: 0.9k | CW: nothing
Aaron Hotchner was usually not one for excess. His wardrobe was practical and professional, his tastes minimalistic, and his life, outside of Jack, revolved around efficiency and exuding authority on the job. Sure he had splurged occasionally on a stray high-quality tie here and there as well as his Rolex watch. At least that was until you entered his life.
The first gift was a tie — a deep navy one in silk with subtle pinstripes. It came in a sleek wrapped box with some designer brand he had never even heard of before. You’d handed it to him with a casual smile, brushing off his initial protests with a light, “Aaron, I saw it and thought of you. Let me spoil you for once.”
He wore it the next day, paired with his standard black suit, and noticed how it caught the light in the mirror. “Looks good,” he muttered to himself, brushing his hand over it. As hesitant as he had been to accept it, he was thankful for the present and happy that you'd chosen one that wasn't smothered in logos or brand names.
Then came the cuff links. They were sterling silver and engraved with his initials. He opened the box late one evening after you handed it to him over dinner. “You didn’t have to,” he said softly, though his smile betrayed how much he loved them.
“Of course, I didn’t have to,” you replied, leaning in to press a kiss to his temple. “But you deserve nice things, Aaron. You do so much good without even expecting a thanks.”
And so it continued. A Louis Vuitton duffel bag for his work trips, a black leather wallet that somehow managed to look even more professional than the one he’d carried for years, and a collection of even more ties that were understated yet undeniably luxurious and seemed to multiply in his closet every so often.
At first, he rotated the items slowly into his everyday wardrobe, unsure if they would draw attention. But one particularly chaotic morning, he grabbed the LV duffel, clipped on the cuff links, and shrugged into a jacket before heading into the office having gotten an urgent notification for a case.
It didn’t take long for the team to notice.
“Uh… Hotch?” Morgan’s voice cut through the usual buzz in the conference room as Hotch entered. “Is that a Louis Vuitton bag you’re carrying?”
Hotch glanced at him briefly, setting the duffel down by the door before striding towards the front of the room to grab the file Garcia was holding outstretched for him. “Yes. Why?”
Morgan blinked. “Why? Man, you’ve been holding out on us. Since when do you roll up looking like you just stepped out of GQ Magazine?”
Emily leaned back in her chair, eyebrows raised. “Is that a new tie, too? That’s at least Tom Ford.”
Hotch adjusted his tie instinctively. “It’s not. It’s Brioni.”
“Oh, excuse us,” JJ chimed in throwing her hands up and exchanging an amused glance with Emily.
“I’m sorry,” Spencer Reid piped up, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Are those cuff links monogrammed?”
“Okay, seriously,” Morgan said, crossing his arms. “What’s going on, Hotch? You win the lottery or something? Cause if your salary is high enough for those purchases Imma have to talk to Strauss about a raise.”
Hotch, shrugged lightly as he opened his case file. “No. My girlfriend has… a habit of giving gifts.”
The room fell silent for a beat before Emily’s jaw dropped. “Wait, girlfriend? You’ve been holding out on us in more ways than one!”
"Who is she I need details," Garcia cut into the conversation, her excitement starting to bubble over.
JJ smirked. “Are you telling me she just gives you designer gifts casually? I agree with Garcia, who is this woman?”
Hotch allowed himself the smallest of smiles as he glanced up from his paperwork. “Someone who insists I deserve the finer things.”
“Damn,” Morgan muttered, shaking his head. “Where can I find one of those?”
“Maybe start with charm school,” Emily teased.
As the team bantered, Hotch’s phone buzzed on his desk. A message from you:
Miss you already. Hope you’re putting the cuff links to good use. Dinner at my place when you get back?
He smiled quickly at his phone before typing back a quick reply.
Always. I’ll bring the wine.
When he looked up, the team was staring at him, curious. “What?” he asked, his tone amused, knowing fully well that they wouldn't stop bothering him about you until he eventually agreed to let them meet you.
“Nothing,” Emily said, though her grin suggested otherwise. “Just trying to imagine Aaron Hotchner in love with a rich fashionista.”
“Not just a fashionista,” Morgan added, gesturing toward the duffel. “An angel sent from the heavens, apparently.”
Hotch shook his head, lifting his file up in the air in a quick and smooth motion as if to remind them why they were there. “Focus, everyone. We have a case.”
A few days later, when you saw Aaron again, he mentioned the team’s reaction with a mix of exasperation and amusement.
“I think they’re more interested in my wardrobe than the case,” he said, loosening his tie as he sat beside you on the couch.
You laughed softly, running a hand through his hair. “Let them wonder. They’ll get used to it eventually.”
“I’m not sure they ever will,” he muttered, leaning into your touch.
“Good,” you teased, leaning in to kiss him. “I like keeping them on their toes.”
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