#i burned the top of some fingers on my right hand at work today and the worst parts are positioned so i cannot use chopsticks

[enchantingruinscandy]

turns out that obsessively training your non dominant hand to do things your dominant hand usually does is actually beneficial and i was not just paranoid

[mylowmilo]

Managed to bruise my finger by carrying in groceries

It was literally just a half gallon of milk, a sandwich, and a bottle of mouth wash. Not even a very heavy bag. And yet.

[rabbidbunwy]

🔞Hawks x reader| Minors DNI| NSFW WARNING 🔞

You handle Keigo as he's on breeding season

Contents: Hawks x Anon! reader-both adult-explicit content-crampie-many rounds-moaning-breeding-smut-cumming-cute-fluff-aftercare-teasing-cuddle-whines-teasing-lots n' lots of cuddles towards the end-cheesy

i'm no english native so sorry for some mistakes

please reblog 🔁 and like❤️

P.s: i feel back again in my BNHA phase ahhhhhh (」°ﾛ°)｣

i love my bird man (⸝⸝ ˊᗜˋ⸝⸝ ) 💕

@muzansslxt @candy69gurl @kiwicopia @satorkive @ponderingmoonlight

“God damn…” Keigo says, his voice coming out as a low groan as he buries his face into your neck. His arms are wrapped around you, holding you to his chest as he tries to catch his breath. His wings are wrapped around the both of you in a protective layer of feathers, making it feel as if you’re in your own personal bubble. His hand slowly moves …until it’s right on your stomach, his fingers gently tracing the skin. “You still okay, sunshine?” The winged hero asks, sounding slightly breathless.

You nodded feeling stuffed "I'm…okay..just full" “Yeah you’re very full” he jokes, giving your stomach a soft pat. He doesn’t bother to move, and instead just keeps you cuddled up in his chest. Wings still wrapped around the two of you, keeping you both nice and safe.

“Still feel a little overstimulated?” Keigo jokingly asks, pressing gentle kisses to your neck.

“Keigo…” you whined, feeling your face burn. “Not so loud-“ He was pretty loud. Too loud. His voice echoed in the bedroom pretty loudly, your neighbors could probably hear him if they were trying.

“I’m supposed to be the one on top…“ you tried to complain. You hadn’t meant for the night to end like this. Not when he was so needy…

“Mmm…I know. But I’m a needy birdie right now.” He said with a pout. He nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, holding you down on his lap. “I’m in my breeding season, babe. You know how I get.”

“You weren’t supposed to get needy today. You have work tomorrow.” You complained as his arms wrapped around you tighter, holding you against his chest.He whined, burying his face into your neck.Your cheeks were burning. “You already came four times…I’m tired.” The night had gotten long, and you were exhausted. Keigo wasn’t tired though - he was energized.

“We have time for one more round, come onnn.” He whined, pouting once again. He began trying to kiss your neck, nibbling at your skin. “It’ll be quick, I promise.” A complete lie; he never had a quick round.

“Come on baby…just one more.” He repeated, giving your neck another gentle bite. His arms were around you, holding you in place on his lap. “I swear it’ll be quick, then we can go to sleep…then in the morning I can give you cuddles before I have to leave.”

He was a good multitasker. Trying to persuade you for a fifth round while also giving you gentle bites on your neck. “Please, sunshine” he said, using that nickname he always called you. “One more round, then we’ll go to sleep. I won’t try and wake you up.”

“I’m exhausted, birdbrain. We’ve been going at it for hours now, I’m tired.” You protested, a pout on your face. “Four times is enough. No more.”

“Just one moree…” he whined, giving you puppy eyes as his wings wrapped tighter around the two of you. “Pleaseee” he repeated, giving another little bite on your neck. “I promise, one more and we’ll sleep. Then tomorrow morning I’ll give you cuddles before I go to work.”

“Mmm…” you hummed, your cheeks flushed. He was using his puppy dog eyes, the one he knew you couldn’t resist. “Fine…” you said reluctantly in defeat. “Just one more, okay?”

“Yes!” He said excitedly, planting a kiss on your cheek. “Thank you, thank you.” He was like a child that just got candy. He’d been begging you for a while now for this fifth round, but eventually you had caved in.

He quickly went back to nipping your neck, his hands moving around your waist. “You’re the best” he mumbled, beginning to kiss down your jawline. “You’re so tired and yet you still agreed.”

“You’re a big baby, you know that?” You said with a fond eye roll. “Such a needy birdie all the time.” You reached a hand around to ruffle his hair, messing up his blonde locks.

“Says the one who says yes to my needy wants, he teased back, returning to the little bites on your neck. “You’re the one who can’t say no to me when I give you puppy eyes.”

“G-God… you always know how to get what you want” you complained, your body tensing slightly as his pace began to quicken. “And I always give in…”

He gives a chuckle, his hands running up your torso to your chest. “You love it when I’m needy, though” he says, nipping your earlobe. “And I love when you give in” he added with a cocky sort of grin.

You moaned again as you felt closer "Keigo...amhn" “God…I love the sounds you make, sunshine” he says a playful smirk. “They’re my favorite…right next to you saying my name” his pace quickens once more, his breath becoming more labored.

“Say my name” he demanded, leaving another bite mark on your neck. He was beginning to feel his own high approaching; that familiar feeling in his lower belly that signaled his climax.

“Come on, darling” he said, his voice a bit breathless. “Say my name. I want to hear you say it.” His hands had moved back to your hips, holding you in place as he continued his pace. “Come on, sunshine.”

“Keigo..” you gasped out, feeling a heat begin to build in your stomach. “God…Keigo-” you repeated, your voice trailing off into a moan as he hit a certain spot. Something in him seemed to snap when you groaned his name. He suddenly let out a low groan himself, his hands tightening in their grip on your hips. “Again” he ordered, his breath coming out in short gasps. “Say it again. More.” You did as asked, letting his name pass through your lips again and again as his pace quickened behind you. “K-Keigo..” You repeated, beginning to reach your climax. “God…I’m so close…”

He groaned again, his wings shaking slightly in response. “M-Me too….g-god, me too” he moaned, letting out a low whine. “I’m close….say my name more, darling. I want to hear it more.”

“Keigo-“ You kept repeating his name over and over, feeling your climax approaching. “I’m gonna cum...I’m gonna-” You cut yourself off with another loud moan, unable to finish the rest of your sentence. “M-Me too-” he gasped, his arms pulling you against his chest in a tight embrace. “M-Me too, sunshine..” He groaned out. “Come with me, darling.” He managed to get out.

You let out a gasp as your climax washes over you, your body tensing against the winged hero. “K-Keigo..” you moaned, squeezing your eyes shut as you rode out your high. You could feel him twitch behind you as he continued to hold you against his chest, his wings wrapping a bit tighter around the two of you as he came.

He pressed another kiss to your neck, holding you tightly against his chest as he came down from his high. His breath was coming out in ragged gasps, his wings shaking slightly as he tried to steady his breathing. He kept you pressed up against him, arms wrapped tightly around your waist and one of his legs hooked over yours to keep you stuck.

“God..” he said with a breathy chuckle, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “That was a damn good one, sunshine.” He began placing soft kisses on your skin, planting them down your neck.

His wings were fully puffed up again, feathers all loose and messy again as a result of your caresses. He loved being touched on the wings whenever he was like this; being an avian with wings gave him a special kind of sensitivity to touch when it came to his wings.

He subconsciously let out a low noise in the back of his throat when you snuggled against his chest, sounding similar to how a bird coos.

Seeing his wings like that filled your heart with a warm feeling. He looked adorable with messy wings like this; like a giant bird with his feathers puffed up.

The noise that came out of his mouth definitely made you smile, and you let a soft laugh. “You really do act like a bird, you know that?” You teased fondly, running a hand through his fluffy wings.

He gave a huff at your comment, but it wasn’t in agitation. “Shut up” he grumbled, resting his chin on your head. He leaned into your hand, silently encouraging you to keep your hand in his wing.

You laughed again, beginning to slowly preen his wing feathers. He was like a cat with how he liked his wings being touched after having a good round.

“You like this, don’t you?” You teased, running your fingers down the feathers. “You like being pampered like an overgrown bird.”

He grumbled again in response, his grip around you tightening a bit. He did like it, but he would be damned if he admitted that fact out loud. “And so what if I do?” He mumbled, burying his face further into your hair.

You smirked as you scracthed in beetween the feathers "this?" He let out a soft whine when you scratched between his feathers, his wings shaking a bit. “God damn it…..” he muttered, burying his face in your neck. Of course you’d figured out a weakness already.

“Look at you, looking all pathetic now” you teased, continuing your scratching. “A great and powerful hero, brought down by a little preening.”

He whined again, wings beginning to droop from their upright position. He couldn’t help it; his muscles just went all loose whenever you preened his feathers. “Mmmm…st-stop. It’s embarrassing..” he mumbled, face still buried in your neck. you take a hold of a feather tenderly caressing it,feeling the soft texture of it "i like it" He let out a small gasp when you tugged gently on his feather, his body tensing slightly. “H-Hah…” He muttered, feeling chills go down his spine. Damn you, you found his most sensitive spot.

“D-Damn it…stop it. That’s not fair-“ he whined, his wings twitching once again. “H-How’d you find that so damn quickly….”

“I’m just observant” you teased, gently tugging on another feather. “You make all these cute noises when I touch your feathers, especially here.” You reached up to scratch between his feathers once again, hearing the whine he made in response.

This was absolutely not fair. You had managed to find yet another weak spot of his already, and he hated how good it felt.

“Mmmm…” he whined, wings shivering once again. “God…stop it..”

“Why would I stop though?” You ask with a smirk, tugging on another feather. “It’s so much fun to get those cute noises out of you, birdboy.”

He pouted at the comment, letting out a huff. He knew he looked absolutely pathetic right now, but he didn’t care. Being pampered by you made too many happy chemicals go through his brain.

“You’re evil, you know that?” He grumbled, wings trembling once more.

“You enjoy it though.” You mused, scratching softly between his feathers once again. Damn he loved that feeling. “And you’re not even trying to stop me, so clearly it isn’t all that bad.”

He grumbled once again, knowing that you were right. He could totally stop you from doing this if he really wanted to.

But he really didn’t want to, because it felt way too damn good.

He kept his face buried in your neck, wings trembling and twitching with every scratch. “Stop being so goddamn observant..” he muttered.

“No can do, birdbrain.” You teased, continuing with your scratching. You loved having this effect on him; seeing him act so pathetic and needy. “You’re just so easy to read.”

He let out a little whine, wings shuddering once again. God, you were going to wreck him at this rate.

“I hate you…” he mumbled into your neck. “You’re absolutely horrible and mean.”

“And yet you love me anyways.” You said with a smirk, tugging on another feather. You couldn’t deny it; this was a guilty pleasure of yours. Seeing him act like this, so needy and messy from just a little feather preening.

He let out a whine again in response, a shiver going down his spine. Damn you really were going to wreck him, you weren’t holding back in the slightest.

“God…you’re killing me here..” he whimpered, wings trembling from all the stimulation.

“Oh I’m fully aware” you teased, scratching softly between his feathers once more. “And I’m enjoying it too, because you’re my big tough birdie, but you crumble like paper in my hands when I just give you a little pampering.”

He let out a noise that was a mix of a whine and a moan, his wings shaking from all the stimulation. God, he was so weak to your caresses.

“Mmmn..god…why are you so damn good at this..” he mumbled, wings shivering under your touch.

“I’m observant, remember?” You said with a little chuckle, tugging once again on his sensitive feathers. “I notice you shiver every time I touch your wings like this, and the noises you make. They’re kind of adorable if you ask me.”

He let out a small whine as you tugged on his feathers again, wings trembling yet again. Damn, he really couldn’t handle it when you touched him here. His normally cocky and confident demeanor completely unraveled when you touched his wings like this.

“Mnn…s-stop calling me adorable..” he mumbled in response, face still buried in your neck.

“Why should I?” You teased, scratching between the feathers once more. “You do act adorable though; shivering and whining whenever I touch your wings…it’s cute, but I’m also enjoying how easily I can make the number two hero fall apart just by touching his wings.”

He let out another little whine, wings shaking again as you continued your ministrations. God, you could be so cruel when you wanted to be.

“God damn itttt…” he whined. “Stop making me sound so pathetic..”

You snuggle on his neck hinaling his scent "you're my birdie,my birdbrain" you cooed

He couldn’t stop himself from shivering slightly when you snuggled against his neck, letting out a little chirp and whining again. Damn, he hated (but loved) how easily you could get him to act all needy and whiny like this.

“Hnn…say that again..” he said quietly, burying his face in your hair once more.

“Mmm..” you hummed, nuzzling against his neck. “You’re my birdie, my cute little birdbrain.” You repeated, a smile tugging at your lips.

It was kind of adorable seeing him like this, all whiney and needy after you preened his feathers. Like a little puppy all riled up after their belly was scratched.

He let out another small whine, wings shuddering from your affectionate words and all the preening you had done. The way you called him your birdie did things to his heart, and it made his chest feel all fuzzy.

God, when you said stuff like that it made his heart do backflips.

You kept nuzzling against his neck softly, repeating the same affectionate nick names for him over and over again. He was just too cute right now, all whiney and clingy after you gave him just a tad bit of caressing.

“My birdie..my birdbrain” you repeated, continuing to nuzzle against his skin.

You felt relaxed as you snuggled and cuddle him,before you pepper kiss his cheek.

He let out another small chirp in response when you pepper kissed his cheek, nuzzling against you once more. Feeling you snuggle against him and cuddle against his side made his heart thump against his chest. Goddamn you were so affectionate.

He hummed in content, wings relaxing against his back as you gave him kisses.

You continued to press kisses on his skin, enjoying the flustered but happy expression on his face. Seeing him all flustered and whiny like this because of a few compliments and some caresses was adorable.

You nuzzled against his neck once again, resting your head against his chest.

He wrapped his arms around your waist once more, pulling you closer into him. He couldn’t help being clingy, especially like this. Being able to hold you in his arms like this after a good round of….“activities”, along with all the preening, left him feeling all clingy and touchy.

His heartbeat was steady against your ear, a thumping and calming sound.

© rabbidbunwy all rights reserved. do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my work without my permission. thank you for reading and supporting my work

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader 18+

[3.3k] a tired girlfriend, an eager to please steve. a flip and reverse it fic of this smutty oneshot.

If you’d not already made Steve aware of your bad day on your lunch break via a rushed, staticky phone call, he would’ve definitely caught onto quickly when you arrived home.

The door hit your hip as you battered your way inside the small hall, a curse leaving your lips in a way that was rougher than usual. He heard your bag hit the floor, a cacophony of dull thumps as you toed off your shoes and let them hit the baseboards, uncaring for once about the scuffs they left on the wood.

It would be tomorrow’s problem, and right now, the current one was his to fix.

You’d called to tell him that not only was today going horrifically, but that you’d been forced into working late as well. Mournful, you’d told him to not wait and have dinner without you, that you’d see to yourself whenever you arrived home. And now at almost nine o’clock, you really couldn’t face the idea of eating a large meal before diving face first into your side of the bed. But still, the house smelled appeasing, garlic and tomatoes and something like your favourite candle burning underneath it all coming from the kitchen.

It’s where you found Steve, leaning against the sink as he finished washing his own empty plate, leftover chicken on the stove if you wanted it. He turned at the sound of you, wet hands avoiding touching you but arms open all the same. He hummed something sympathetic when you closed your own around his waist, nose pressed to the middle of his chest as you groaned aloud before breathing him in.

He ducked down, lips on the crown of your head. “Baby.”

It was the sweetest of greetings, soft and full of an aching affection that made your shoulders slump and your eyes prick with hot tears. You let out a whine, a pitiful thing that made you press your face into the man’s chest a little harder and Steve cooed back with the same amount of understanding.

“You’re home now,” he murmured against your forehead, kisses stamped there too. He didn’t mention your bad day, no need now that it was over and he was there to fix it. “Lemme dry my hands and say ‘hi’ properly, huh? You hungry? I can put more garlic bread in the oven if you want some.”

You didn’t respond, not when Steve was drying his hands off on the towel hanging from the oven door and grasping your chin with a finger and thumb. It was so easy to smile with his touch on you, his attention. The corners of your lips lifted as he moved into you, big hand holding your jaw still for him as he kissed you. It was familiar and sweet and over a little too quickly but when he pulled back and saw your closed eyes and pout, Steve grinned and moved back in.

“Want ‘nother?” He whispered, too soft to sound teasing but you knew him well enough. Eyes still closed, you nodded, nose bumping against his own as you pushed up onto your toes and tried to find his lips with yours own. “Poor girl,” he told you, pouting right back. “My girl, my pretty, pretty girl.”

His kisses were more languid now, slower, deeper, easier to get lost in. Steve hummed against you, hands on the small of your back and keeping you tucked in close. His words had the right effect, softening you, making you hold onto him that little bit tighter, your hands fisting the front of t-shirt in a way that had his head spinning.

“Can I get you some food, huh? You wanna eat?” Steve asked, kissing at your cheek, nose pushed to the warm apple of it as you tried to get your bearings. The kitchen was warmer than before. “Go get changed and I can plate up for you.”

You shook your head as you held onto him, working yourself closer as Steve attempted to move to the stove.

“Baby—”

You didn’t say anything as you buried your face into the crook of his neck but you didn’t have to. Steve just leant back against the counter top, taking you with him. He wound his arms around you, holding you against him, warm and solid and the best thing you’d felt all day. It was easy to let out the sigh you’d been holding as he kissed at your cheek, head lolling to the side as he worked his mouth down your jaw and over your neck, kisses open mouthed and warm.

He didn’t have to do too much to make you let out other noises, softer, raspier ones that morphed into small moans and gasps. Teeth grazed over your pulse point as large hands wandered down, fingers cupping at the swell of your ass and you held onto Steve’s shoulders, eyes closed and head tipped to the side so he could do what he wanted to you.

Steve groaned as you fell pliant against him, your body moulding to his more than ever as you tried to work your way closer to his warmth, his hands, the smell of his leftover aftershave that clung to his neck.

“Want me to make you feel good?” He murmured, still kissing at the pieces of your skin that he could reach. Your black dress that you wore to the office seemed suddenly too encasing, the cotton fabric restricting him from all the places he wanted to touch. “Hmm? Want me to make you forget about your shitty day, honey?”

The idea seemed divine, heavenly, actually. Enough to make you sigh all pretty and whine when Steve’s teeth nipped gently at your jawline, your head tipping back and lips parting at his attention. But your body was bone tired, thrumming with the need your boyfriend had lit inside of you with his touch but your limbs ached, muscles already protesting at still being on your feet.

Regretful, you opened your eyes to meet Steve’s, his gaze overwhelming adoring as he gazed down at you, watching the way your body and face responded to each sweep of his fingers over your waist.

“I would love that,” you told him, voice soft and as quiet as his own. The hum of the fridge was the only other sound in the room, the soft glow of the light above the stove making Steve seem peach coloured, highlighted in gold. “But I don’t think I could hold myself up long enough.”

You tried to lighten your tone with a smile, tired as it was. And Steve could’ve responded with something dirty about having you on your back as he had his way with you but instead, he ducked down to kiss you again, soft and at the corner of your mouth.

“What if I look after you, hm?” He asked you, as kind and gentle as his kisses were. Each question was punctuated with another push of his mouth against yours, the rasp of his stubble against your cheek making your toes curl. “You won’t have to do a thing, honey. Jus’ gotta look pretty for me, yeah? Let me make you feel better? You wanna do that?”

It sounded like an offer you couldn’t turn down, enticing and as sweet as the boy in front of you. You knew that if you said no and asked to go to bed instead, Steve would lead you there with a kind hand and tuck you into bed himself - his offer was very much for you and not him. You could see it in the way he was gazing down at you, warm and affectionate as he pushed the baby hairs away from your eyes and dropped a kiss to the tip of your nose.

You’d done the same for him before, making him forget about any worries or stress he had as you handed him a stiff drink and then let him use your mouth, sitting on his laps and letting him play with you as he pleased.

So you nodded, breath exhaling in a shaky gasp and Steve stole one more kiss from you before gently nudging you towards the living room.

Steve met you there, where the lights were dimmed and the curtains were already closed and he sat on the slumped cushions of your well loved sofa and held out a hand. “C’mere, honey.”

He led you forward, fingers caught in his and he coaxed you onto his knee, legs spreading until you were sat on his lap, your dress hitching above your knees. “There y’go,” Steve praised. “You just sit there for me, yeah? Lookin’ too pretty, did I tell you that? Even prettier than last time I saw you, god, what did I tell you ‘bout doing that, huh?”

You couldn’t help your grin as Steve spoke sweetly, all charm and that soft smile that made your tummy flip, the tips of his fingers running down the tops of your bare arms. “Shut up,” you mumbled, embarrassed and pleased and shy all at once.

“What?” Steve grinned right back. “You know what I’m talking about. You just keep gettin’ prettier, babe, s’not good for my health.”

He’d complimented you enough for a kiss, one you greedily gave as you leaned in, hands pressed to his abdomen as you took what he gave you, greedy for the softness of his lips, more of his touch.

Steve hummed, giving you what you wanted before he pushed you back again, just slightly, gaze wandering down to your chest, to the tiny buttons that held the front of your dress together. He tapped the top one, his other hand grazing over your knee. “Can I make you more comfortable?”

You nodded, sensing the shift in the room, in him. It was quiet, the television off, the streets outside quiet in the late hour, no traffic or garden sprinklers to be heard from beyond the window.

Steve smiled as he popped the first button, then the second, then the third. It was enough for the straps of your dress to loosen and slip, dropping from your shoulders to expose more of you, your cleavage becoming visible, that pretty expanse of skin on show for Steve. The man cooed at the sight, fingertips trailing over your chest, dipping between your breasts until you made a soft noise and arched your back for him.

“There you go,” Steve whispered. “Nice?”

“Yeah,” you whispered back. You didn’t want to ask for more already, you wanted to be patient. But Steve was close to smirking. “Babe—”

“I know,” he assured you. “Gimme a sec, honey.” His hand trailed back to the buttons, the last three popping open under his nimble touch and the lacy cups of your bra appeared. The dress fell apart, dropping from your upper body and Steve blew out a breath. “Oh, you’re just the prettiest.”

You grew warm under Steve’s stare, his own cheeks turning pink as he took his time looking over you. You kept your chin high as he ran one finger down the middle of your chest, dipping into the space between your breasts, that soft spot of skin that made goosebumps erupt. “Can I see more? Gonna let me play w’you?”

You could only nod.

So Steve took that same single digit and hooked it into the first bra cup, pulling down, and then the same to the other side. It felt filthy being exposed like that, the band of your bra still around your ribs, the cups pulled down to free your tits, nipples peaking immediately on contact with the cooler air.

Steve groaned, lips parting at the sight before him and he shifted under you, the tent in his sweatpants growing. But he didn’t try much more than reaching out to graze the pad of one finger over a nipple. You gasped, body jerking slightly at the new touch, skin sensitive. And Steve mumbled something soothing, flicking his finger over your nipple until it stiffened entirely, hard and begging for more attention.

He pinched it, the skin darkening further, your mouth opening in a silent plea and he got a little mean, just the way you liked him to be. Steve pulled, letting go to watch your breast bounce back and he grinned before giving the other side the same attention. He cupped you, too big hands gathering your tits in his palms as he pressed them together and lay kisses across your chest, soft and sweet until his lips parted and he could sweep the flat of his tongue over a nipple.

You whined, back arching further, pushing yourself against his mouth, hands finding the back of his head so you could hold onto his hair. It made him grunt, teeth grazing ever, ever so gently over you. A soft bite, more tongue than teeth before he sucked at you, his nose pressed into your soft skin with intent.

“Fuck,” Steve groaned, fingers squeezing, palms moulded to you. “Baby, you’ve got the prettiest tits. Pretty all over, huh?” He pulled at your nipples again, a little harsh, eyes glazed over as he let go and watched them harden even further. “That good?”

You squirmed in answer, trying to find some friction against his leg but Steve kept his own knees spread, the junction between your thighs hovering over empty space and keeping you open for him.

“C’mon, tell me,” Steve reminded you, squeezing a warm, rough hand over your breast again. His thumb flicked your nipple, his smile too sweet. “Does it feel good?”

“Yeah,” you told him, brows scrunched and lips pouted. Your breath was coming heavier than before, chest heaving, tits arching forward for more of Steve’s mean touch. “Yeah, s’really good.”

The breathiness of your voice made the man groan, eyes half lidded as he settled back into the sofa and watched you grab at the hem of his shirt, grounding yourself. “Good girl,” he told you, voice quiet like before but a little raspier. “Let’s get this out the way, yeah?” He tugged at the bottom of your dress, lifting the hem until it dragged over the tops of your thighs.

You were burning now, tits on display, dress hanging off you, bra tangled around your ribs and your underwear on show. Steve grinned as he spread his knees a little wider still, opening yours further in return. He had you positioned on his lap, thighs open, the damp spot on your cotton underwear very much seen. Steve pressed his thumb there, over your entrance, pushing softly until he heard you moan his name.

“Fuck, baby,” Steve cursed, “already got yourself all worked up, haven’t you?”

You nodded, hips bucking against nothing and the thought of having to stand up to take your underwear off seemed too much of a task. “Steve, babe— Steve, please.”

The man tutted at you, cheeks reddening at your begging, his cock hard under his sweats, pressing against the cotton and twitching for release. But Steve wasn’t doing this to tease and he wasn’t doing this for himself. So he hushed you with soft hands and soft sounds before he gave a harsh tug to the elastic sides of your underwear and ripped the seam.

If you hadn’t been desperate before, that did it.

You squeaked, clinging to Steve’s hips as he pushed the now torn cotton out of the way, your spread cunt fully on show for him. He wasn’t subtle in his staring, his jaw unhinged as he murmured sweet, dirty words to you, his hands soothing up the insides of your thighs, kneading the doughy skin there.

“Fuck, look at you,” he groaned, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. “Pretty girl with a pretty pussy, huh?” His hands met at the juncture of your thighs, thumbs framing your folds so he could pull apart your lips, spreading you for his own viewing pleasure. “So wet, baby. You wanna come for me? Can I make you come nice and hard, yeah?”

You were gone, nodding with a head that felt too heavy, your nails digging into the tops of Steve’s arms to keep yourself balanced and you might have been whispering, begging over and over again, breathless and tits heaving as you tried to suck in enough air to keep yourself upright.

Steve didn’t need to work you up anymore, using one thumb to push at your clit, a soft press that had you immediately keening. You’d been with Steve long enough to have told him - and shown him - exactly how you liked to be touch. And despite his academic downfalls, he was a quick study in the bedroom. He didn’t falter in his pace nor his pressure, keeping a steady, slow circle over your clit as he watched your face.

He smiled when he saw your features go slack, a lazy, warm softness take over your expression, lips parting, eyes unfocused.

“That’s it, honey,” he praised. “You sit there and look pretty for me. Hmm? Yeah, like that, keep those legs open and lemme watch you come, wanna see that pretty, little pussy soak my hand.” Steve let out a rough sigh when you whined, one of your hands leaving his bicep to cup at his jaw and he turned his head to press a kiss to your palm, to nip at your thumb. “Pretty girl, pretty baby.”

He didn’t slip any fingers inside of you and you didn’t ask. In fact, Steve merely let his thumb run down between your folds and gather the wetness there. He hummed when you gasped, grinned when you moaned and then took his thumb back to your swollen button as his free hand cupped your tit. He squeezed and plucked at your nipple as his thumb circled, pulling and pushing you closer to an orgasm, all while your cunt clenched around nothing.

“Close, honey?” Steve asked as you swore, hips canting forward, your brows scrunching prettily as you neared the edge. You gasped your confirmation, falling forward into your boyfriend, foreheads touching, noses bumping and you breathed in the air that Steve exhaled out. “Yeah, you are, can see it on your face, baby, you wanna come real bad, don’t you?”

Steve kept his pace the same, circles messy over your wet and swollen clit, his words dirtier than ever, his breath coming out in heavy gasps as he tried to coax you into letting go as you tried to kiss him. Your lips found his jaw, his chin, the corner of his mouth as you groaned and whined and gasped his name, Steve’s eyes fluttering shut as you tried to clamber closer to him but he kept you seated with a sharp tug on your nipple.

“Nuhuh, baby, sit still. Be good, m’gonna get you there,” he promised, muscles in his forearm flexing as he worked you that little harder. “Come for me, yeah? Come nice ‘n hard, pretty girl and I’ll let you have my fingers. You can come ‘round my fingers, yeah? Wanna feel you get nice n’ tight for me— oh, fuck, that’s it—”

It was easy to tell when you’d fallen over the edge, your jaw unhinged as you pressed forward into Steve’s chest, biting at the meat of his shoulder to smother your long, gasping moan. His name came out in several syllables, your hands finding his hair again as you tugged, your mouth finding his just as Steve swore, two fingers slipping into your aching cunt easily, your walls pulsing around them in a way that had his dick throbbing in the same pattern.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Steve grunted, hooking the pads of his digits into you and keeping them there, stuffing you full in a way he hadn’t given you before you’d come. “Such a good girl, feel better, yeah?”

Glassy eyed, you could only nod, nosing at the side of his neck, hands threading through the ends of his hair as if you’d float away if you let go.

Maybe you would.

Heavy limbed and more bone tired than before, you curled into Steve’s chest, sighing warmly when his arms welcomed you closer. He smelled like cologne and home and sex, and before your eyes closed completely, you managed to whisper into his jawline:

“M’gonna return the favour,” you promised. “Tomorrow. M’gonna return it tomorrow.”

[gomu-fer]

one piece men react to you screaming their full name

ft. Ace, Zoro, Sanji

SFW, mentions of alcohol and smoking, gn reader

Masterlist

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ .ᐟ ᡣ𐭩

Ace

“PORTGAS D. ACE” your voice resonates through all the walls, rooms and every nook and cranny from the Moby Dick. The mentioned stood frozen at the dinner table fork still full of food, he knew better than to run away

“What did you do now?” Marco asked eyes wide open

“Nothing!… that I remember” Ace scratched the back of his head trying to make memory of his recent activities, searching for whatever may had upset you

Marco laughed in disbelief “You’re a dead man” he said before taking another sip of his drink

You entered the room, stomping your way to your clueless boyfriend “May I have a word with you?” The tone and the politeness of the sentence made Marco fear for his dear friend. Ace nodded before he stood up and followed behind smile beaming in hopes you’ll have some mercy. A chorus of teasing ‘UUUUH’s were heard as you exited the dining room.

“Have I told you how radiant you look today?” Ace leaned over to kiss your cheek but you ducked making him loose his balance

“Don’t start with me Portgas” a shiver ran down Ace’s back, both from fear and… something else.

“You did this” you held a pillow cover in front of his face “You burned my only bed sheets, and you’re getting me new ones even if you end up in debt with everyone on this ship”

Ace was attracted to you all the time, but there was something in the way you would always stand your ground and how gorgeous you looked right now that was knocking him out of his feet. He placed his hand in the one were you held the pillow cover and pulled you in for a hug

“Im sorry sweetheart I’d get you new ones on the next island, you can borrow mine for now” you rolled your eyes and sighed, he got you wrapped all around his finger and he knew it, you couldn’t be mad at him for long

“Of course I’m taking yours, you sleep at my bed every night anyways… but wash them first” Ace picked you up and pampered your face with kisses “You look so hot when you’re angry

Zoro

“RORONOA ZORO” you screamed while exiting to the deck where he was working out, all of the straw hats looked back at Zoro in fear, Sanji holding in a laugh

Few things made this man flinch but he couldn’t help but catch himself lose balance when he heard his full name exit your lips in such an angry tone followed by your big stumps getting louder as you got closer

Everyone wrapped up whatever they were doing and ran off to the kitchen, leaving Zoro to face his demise alone

“What now?” He played it off trying to sound as nonchalant as he could not even looking your direction

“How many times have I asked you to not leave your sake around my desk?” If looks could kill your boyfriend would be a dead man

“Where am I supposed to put it then?” He scoffed crossing his arms in front of his chest, he looked at you for a second and his heart clenched at the cute way your brows furrowed and your arms rested on your hips

“Oh! I don’t know maybe, just getting silly here, IN THE PANTRY WHERE IT BELONGS!” Zoros condecency was driving you insane making your tone scale

The swordsman noticed how you were getting tense and teardrops threaten to run down your cheeks, he sighed a little embarrassed he had made you this upset. He cupped your cheeks while he apologized in that soft tone he reserved just for you

“I’m sorry I forgot to put it away last night, it won’t happen again I promise” he drew comforting circles around your cheek as he whispered

“It got all over my notebooks” oh so that’s why you were so shaken up

“I’ll clean it up baby” your boyfriend kissed your forehead as he made his way to the kitchen for a towel, as he opened the door every crew member fell comically on top of each other, they were ears dropping as they do.

Before Zoro could complain, your sweet laugh was heard at the distance which made him smile a little “You should listen to her mosshead” Sanji muttered which made the swordsman’s smile drop and scream back at him

Sanji

“BLACK LEG SANJI” even though you were screaming at him, the cook couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter at the way you wouldn’t use his birth last name as you knew he despised it and what it stand for, instead raging while using his public name.

You stormed in the kitchen eyes fixed on him, even angry Sanji thought you were breathtaking

“Yes my world?” he beamed a smile at you which you didn’t know if it annoyed or charmed you

“What have I said about smoking indoors?” Sanji felt the air get stuck in his throat, his eyes drifted from yours in shame

“I uhm-“ he laughed nervously as you got closer and closer cornering him against the counter, both hands caging him while they rested on said counter

“You know damn well I hate when my clothes smell like cigarettes, now imagine how I feel when my whole room stinks” you grabbed Sanjis tie to move his face closer to yours without breaking eye contact, you knew exactly what to do to make him a nervous wreck

The blondes heart couldn’t help but skip several beats at the way you were acting right now, he felt bad about upsetting you but he could get used to this side of you

“My apologies love, you know I cant manage to go without a smoke and sometimes I don’t want to leave your side” he twitched when his gaze met yours as he tried to explain himself

“Well you better start to manage” with a torturous slow move you took the cigarette that hanged from your boyfriends lips and threw it on the floor before stepping on it to take it out “Or I’ll move out of the room” you smiled teasingly while exploring his handsome features, stopping at his lips.

The cook turned all shades of red and pink breathing heavily, squirming a “Yes ma’m” before you kissed him passionately and breaking it abruptly

You winked at him before leaving the poor poor man absolutely stunted and a hot mess

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ .ᐟ ᡣ𐭩

Hi! This is my first time doing this type of format so tell me what you think and feel free to request. English is not my first language so correct me if I made any mistakes.

[readsaboutreid]

Could I please request a sunshine! Reader who's a friend of Penelopes, and she goes to drop off some baking for Pen when she asks Spencer for directions to her office, he's a stuttering mess and the reader offers him a cookie as thanks for his directions. And she tells Pen about the cute guy and so she ropes Morgan into setting them up?

YES YOU CAN this sounds adorable and i love it pure fluff and baked goods coming right up! i hope you like it this is my first request and i'm kinda nervous

pairing: Spencer x sunshine!reader

contains: pure fluff, adorable flustered Spencer, another blink and you'll miss it Buffy reference

Lavender Roses | S.R.

Spencer sat at his desk, the stack of folders on it feeling as though each time he completed one another one is added. He takes a deep breath and leans back, taking his glasses off his face to massage the bridge of his nose. Most of the time he was glad to have a slow casework day but for some reason today was crawling by.

He placed his glasses back on his face and turned to resume to his work before he heard a soft voice. "Excuse me?" He swiveled in his chair and found that in front of him stood possibly prettiest person he's ever seen before carrying a couple of small plastic tubs. She was smiling slightly at him, her eyes sparkling even in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the bullpen. She wore a long-sleeved black dress with a white collar and a flared skirt and a pair of black Mary Janes. "Hello?" She asked again.

His eyes widened slightly and he remembered that she had been about to ask him something so he cleared his throat. "Oh, hi! Uh, m-may I have you? Uh, help. M-may I help you?" Spencer shook his head and nearly slapped his palm to his forehead but managed to refrain from doing so. His cheeks burned as he met her gaze again and was met with a smile so sweet that it would have made his knees buckle had he been standing.

"Yes, actually!" She responded, her smile growing wider. "I'm looking for Penelope Garcia's office? I need to drop these off for her." She held up the boxes, which upon further inspection held an assortment of cupcakes, brownies, and cookies in the very top one.

"Oh, oh yeah ! It's just, uh—it's r-right over—just turn around and—," he stammered, his cheeks burning more and more with each failed attempt to organize his racing thoughts so that they'd come out of his mouth fluently instead of in the word jumbles he was currently producing.

"Sorry, I don't mean to interrupt, but you said you're looking for Penelope Garcia?" Derek Morgan swooped in, rescuing Spencer from further embarrassment. "Her office is right this way, I can take you to her." He flashed her one of his smooth smiles and placed a hand on her arm as he began to turn her in the right direction.

"Oh, thank you!" She said gratefully. Before Derek could lead her away she turned back to Spencer and opened the top container, lowering it in front of him. "Here, have a cookie as a thanks for helping me!"

"B-but I didn't even—," he began before being shushed by her in a joking manner, her index finger landing a mere centimeter in front of his lips.

"Uh-uh! I will hear none of that nonsense," she laughed, making his heart skip a beat or two. "You were kind to me so take a cookie."

"O-okay, if, uh, if you insist," he gave a nervous laugh of his own as he reached his hand in and grabbed the first cookie his fingers met. He quickly withdrew his hand and met her eyes once more. "Th-thank you!"

"You're welcome, handsome!" She chirped before letting Derek lead her to Garcia's office, leaving Spencer silently kicking himself for fumbling that interaction so thoroughly. He took a bite of the cookie and was met with the most amazing tasting treat he'd ever had as he went back to working on the pile of folders on his desk.

"Thank you for showing me to Penelope!" (Y/N) thanked the kind man, who had introduced himself as Derek Morgan. She had heard endless stories about him from Penelope so it was nice to put a face to the name. "What, no cookie for me?" He joked, right as Penelope opened the door.

"She better not give you one! These are for my party tonight!" She said immediately.

"Oh, it's fine, Pen, I made like 30 of these things, not to mention the brownies and cupcakes. Plus, I already gave one to your other coworker so it's only fair, I suppose," she opened the top container, allowing the man to pick a cookie.

"Thanks gorgeous," he winked and walked off, taking a bite of the cookie. "Mmm these are delicious!"

They walked into Penelope's office and she closed the door behind them as (Y/N) set the containers down on one of the few surfaces not littered with papers and/or computer equipment. Once her hands were free she hugged her friend and they began catching up. Eventually, (Y/N) couldn't help but ask about the young brunet agent with whom she had shared her first encounter.

"So Pen, who was that tall, handsome agent I met earlier?" She asked, feeling her cheeks burn as she blushed lightly.

"Oh, sweet cheeks, stay away from him! He's mine," Penelope joked back, nudging her friend lightly with her elbow.

"Oh no, not him. He was nice but before he led me to your office, I had asked another agent where to find you. He was younger, wearing glasses, closer to my age, and he had what looked like the softest brown hair and he got all cute and flustered," she gushed to her friend, not taking a single breath until she had finished and took in a large gulp of air.

"Wait wait wait, are you talking about Reid?" Penelope laughed, her hands flying up to her mouth. "Skinny guy, about 6'1", dresses like he shops with my grandpa?"

"Hey, I like the way he was dressed!" (Y/N) responded with a playfully indignant tone. "He looked very cute if you ask me. Truth be told that's why I offered him a cookie!"

As her friend was leaving, a plan started forming in Penelope Garcia's mind. Once (Y/N) was through the glass doors and in the elevator, she rushed over to Derek Morgan, sitting at his desk and working on a case file.

"Derek! Derek, I need to talk to you," she panted, slightly out of breath from her hurrying. "Come to my office with me." The two went to her office where she shut the door and hurriedly asked, "tell me about what you saw between (Y/N) and Reid!"

"Is that your friend from earlier, baby girl?" He asked, tilting his head to the side with an amused smile creeping on his lips.

"Yes and she spent about 20 minutes gushing over him, Derek," Penelope laughed. "She is smitten and their interaction couldn't have been all that long. So, tell me, you beautiful man, what. Did. You. See?"

"Okay, okay!" He put his hands in the air and gave a good natured chuckle. "She walked up to him and got his attention, he fumbled asking her if he could help her with something, she asked how to find you, and he tried to tell her but it sounded like he was about to have a stroke so I stepped in and offered to show her to you. She offered him a cookie as a thanks for his effort and then we went to your office."

"Nothing else?" She pressed, trying to get every last bit of information that she could.

"Uh, she called him handsome, I think?" He added, trying to sneak a second cookie but being met with a slap on the wrist from Penelope.

"Okay so I have a plan," she said, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper as she leaned in closer to Derek. "But I'm going to need your help."

Spencer sat in the café Derek had told him to go to, a single lavender rose in front of him. He had been told to look for a girl wearing a light purple beret, but no such girl had arrived in the 15 minutes he'd been waiting. He checked his watch while his heart beat rapidly against his chest. Why had he agreed to a blind date in the first place? Logically he knew Derek wasn't like the kids he went to school with growing up, he would never intentionally hurt his friends like that, but a part of Spencer's mind was telling him that this was all some elaborate prank that all his coworkers would be laughing about on Monday.

In the midst of his thought spiral he failed to notice that someone had approached his table until he heard a soft throat clearing from in front of him. He started and looked up, his cheeks turning a soft shade of red as he met the twinkling eyes that have been plaguing his thoughts for the passed week.

"Dr. Reid?" She asked with a hopeful look on her face. "I don't think we were every properly introduced the other day. I'm (Y/N) (Y/L/N). May I join you?"

"Oh! Uh, um, s-sure! Please do," he stuttered, realizing that she was wearing a lavender colored beret that from the looks of it was handmade with a lot of care. "I, uh, I'm Spencer." He smiled at her as she sat across from him in the empty chair.

"It's nice to officially meet you, Spencer," she responded with a soft giggle that made Spencer feel like he was about to melt.

"I, uh, I brought you this," he told her as he reached for the rose in front of him, reaching his hand out over the table to hand it to her. Her cheeks tinged an adorable shade of pink as she reached for it.

"I don't know if I've ever seen a rose this shade before," she whispered, twirling it around in her fingers as her eyes widened in awe.

"Different colored roses carry different meanings," He began explaining his thought process behind the particular color he had picked for her. "Lavender colored roses usually represent enchantment, admiration, and carry an air of mystery or mysticism, so I figured it would be a perfect color for the first time meeting you." He felt his cheeks burn as he finished his explanation.

"That's incredibly sweet of you, Spencer," she smiled at him softly, reaching forward to put her hand on top of his. At this point he swore his heart was going to explode. "And even though we've technically met before it also has the added benefit of matching my hat quite well."

"Yes, yes it does," he smiled back as a warm feeling bloomed and spread throughout his chest.

"So what do the other colors of roses signify?" She asked, tilting her head and listening eagerly with the very same smile that had made him tumble head over heels for her during their first encounter as he began explaining each and every color of rose and their multitude of meanings. Not once did she roll her eyes or sigh from boredom. As the night drew on and the conversation flowed Spencer knew that a lavender rose was indeed a perfect choice since what they really symbolized was love at first sight.

[formulawolff]

i. alkaline - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 2.7k

warnings: cursing, significant age-gap, power imbalances, slow burn, eventual smut, inappropriate work relationships, mentions of infidelity, drug/alcohol use, use of common fic tropes

synopsis: as the first american female driver for formula one, you are thrust into the competitive world of racing. when you are approached by a team principal willing to make a deal, you presented with the opportunity of a lifetime.

author's note: this is my first f1 related fic, so i may have made some errors in terminology. the title is based on the song alkaline by sleep token. i recommend listening while reading! please, please, please let me know if you like the fic! i plan on making this my first f1 series :')

racing was never in the cards. 

well, racing a nearly 1,800 pound car was never in the cards. 

especially at speeds reaching two hundred miles an hour. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

yet, here you were, shaking james’ hand, beaming as the cameras flashed. there were a flurry of voices, all of them nearly trembling with excitement, relief, and well, hope. if you were able to accomplish eighth place today, what did that mean for the future of williams racing? 

would williams be a sizable contender for the 2025 constructors’ championship? would they be able to squash the disbelief? the doubts? hell, if you kept this up, there was a chance that you could get williams into the top ten of the 2024 championship. 

were you what they had been missing for so long? 

were you the key to their future success?

“great job,” james’ voice is nearly hoarse, more than likely from all of the celebration, “you wouldn’t believe what they’re saying about you.” 

“probably nothing great,” you scoff, rolling your eyes slightly, “i’m sure that everyone is claiming i didn’t deserve it.” 

“quite the contrary,” a chuckle bubbles up from his throat, “they all adore you.” 

“was it because i gave the camera the finger?” 

“no,” there is a slight twinkle in his eyes, quite the contrary from what you were used to, “they love you because you’re you. there is no one in this sport who is quite like you.

there’s an authenticity that cannot be replaced. it’s obvious you have a true passion for racing. it shows on the track. good job, today.” 

heat flourished into your cheeks, tears welling up at james’ words. after years of being ridiculed by team principals, attacked by fans, and bashed by the media, praise was something to be cherished. it was always welcomed warmly, your heart swelling as james brought you in for a sweaty embrace. 

“thank you, james,” the words are slightly muffled as he squeezes you gently, “you know how much that means to me. thank you for believing in me.”

“of course,” james murmurs, rubbing your back ever so slightly, “great job, american girl. you deserve this. go do some interviews, flash that beautiful grin of yours, and then get some rest. you need it.”

“no partying?” you arch your brow, “i think i deserve a drink or two.”

“maybe a little bit,” another chuckle rings out, “i just don’t want to see any press about it in the morning. that’s the last thing we need after our victory today.”

“right, right,” you nod your head, saluting the principal, “aye, aye captain.”

“it’s principal,” james shoots you a wink before turning to several engineers, the group getting swept away into the chaos. 

no matter how well the team did, there was always chaos after a race. it was typical, routine even. there was always the pit crew cleaning up, shouting to one another as the fans trickled out of the stands. engineers milled about, tablets in hand, murmuring to one another, pointing out aspects of the car that needed improvement. there was always some piece of the car that could be adjusted, a slight tweak or advancement. it could make the car faster, or it could only lead to inevitable disaster. 

exhaling, you stroll out of the paddock, the dread of facing the press weighing down every step. 

you could turn around, and hide in the paddock. 

however, this was part of being a driver. simply a requirement of the job. press was an essential aspect of formula one. how else would the world know how you felt after that race? how else would information about driver contracts, car modifications, disqualifications be shared?

how else would the world have known about the first american female formula in formula one?  

you had to at least thank the press for that. 

even if it was shared before your official announcement that you were joining williams racing for the 2023 racing season. 

“there she is!” a voice calls out, light and airy. 

the corners of your lips tug into a smile as you see daniel ricciardo jogging towards you. before you know it, his arms are wrapping around your frame, holding you tight. he’s sweaty, per usual, but you accept the gesture, suppressing a giggle as he sways you back and forth. 

“i knew you could do it! i knew you could do it!”

“don’t puncture her lungs, please,” another voice chimes in, “i would like to keep her around, you know.”

daniel releases you promptly, placing a swift peck on your cheek, “no need to fret alex. i’m not that mighty.”

“i’m more worried about contracting any diseases from the land down under,” scrunching your nose, you wave your fingers at daniel, earning yet another laugh from the australian. 

“the only disease you’d contract are my insanely good looks.”

“here we go again,” alex rolls his eyes, “are we ready to face the press or what?”

“i think so,” daniel shrugs, “go ahead, alex. we’ll follow you.”

alex shoots you an inquiring glance, but begins to walk in the direction of the conference room. once he was a reasonable distance away, daniel clears his throat. 

“someone seemed a little jealous.”

“i wouldn’t say jealous,” you can’t help but defend alex, “he’s probably a little bitter.”

“fifteenth place is nowhere as good as eighth,” daniel points out, the notes in his tone solemn, “he’s been there a few years and seen subpar results. you came in last year and have pretty damn good ones. i’m sure he can’t help but feel a little bit of envy.” 

“maybe he just had a bad race.”

“you say that every–” daniel begins, but he’s swiftly cut off as you pull open the door to the conference room. 

all around, cameras flash, reporters chirp out questions, and phones are immediately pointed in your direction. sucking in a deep breath, you settle on the couch next to daniel, max verstappen across from you. he shoots you a thumbs up, complemented with a wide smile. alex was on your right, fiddling a loose thread. 

confusion consumes you momentarily once you realize that max was the only one from the podium to remain in the conference room. checo and carlos were not present. so why was he still here? 

daniel passes you the mic, placing it on your lap. a shit-eating grin plasters his face, and you grimace. of course he was going to make you speak first. hesitantly, you pick up the mic, clearing your throat. 

“hello, everyone. any questions?”

immediately a reporter butts in, “how does it feel to not only be one of the only women competing in formula one, but the first american woman to place in a race?”

your hand tingles as you hold up the mic, trembling slightly. public speaking was never your forte. fuck you, daniel. 

“w-well,” you curse yourself for stuttering, “i take a lot of pride in the way i compete, especially as such a trailblazer for women who love the sport. i’m aware that there is a lot of unrest and outcry concerning my gender and how i’m not ‘supposed’ to be competing with the men–”

“i think she’s a worthy opponent,” max’s voice interjects, “she competes at the same intensity as we do, if not more. she is going to be standing next to me on a podium in a matter of weeks. i’ve never met someone so driven to win or passionate about the sport. 

we pay no attention to her gender. it doesn’t affect us. we pay attention to her character. i do not want to speak for her, but i am sure she would appreciate it if you all refrained from the gender based questions. ask her about the race.”

as he finishes speaking, his eyes drift back to you, sparkling ever so slightly. his cheeks were tinged a pink hue from the passionate sentiment, and you couldn’t help but just sit there, frozen with disbelief. 

max verstappen, three time world champion, one of the best drivers to ever step foot on a formula one track, publicly praised you. in a room full of journalists, no less. 

sure, you were friendly with max. since there were only twenty drivers, most of you were close, on and off the grid. you had exchanged numerous conversations with max over the last year, but you were still a little intimidated by the dutch driver. 

of course, who wouldn’t be? he was a dominant force on the track, winning nineteen of the twenty-two races last season. 

so yeah, when he just did nothing but send you the uttermost praise in a room bustling with the press, you were going to a little starstruck.

“do you have any additional remarks to maxs’ comments?” a reporter snaps you out of your trance, “you appear to be a little off-put by what he just said.”

blinking, you bring the mic to your lips, “no, i actually appreciate what he said. maybe that means you guys will finally take me seriously.”

“are you under the impression that formula one does not take you seriously?”

as the reporter baits you to respond, a twinge of frustration brews in your stomach, churning it into a knot. sucking in a sharp breath, you focus your attention to the reporter. 

“no, that is not what i said. it is the simple fact that i have been working my ass off this last year to be a competitive racer. i’ve worked tirelessly with williams racing to place. i’ve been trying to earn points for my team because i believe in my team and i want us to succeed. yet nearly every day i wake up, someone on social media posts some bullshit or bashes me for competing. 

i’ve been making a name for myself, and look where it has gotten me. you all are more concerned about my gender than the race i just had. i think it’s a bit frivolous to be more invested in my gender than my racing. so yeah, when the three time world champion says something good about me, i would hope that you guys listen to it.”

there’s a few gasps from a few reporters, and you can’t help but notice all of the beady red lights on the cameras. of course that was all recorded. of course it was going to be blasted all over social media these next couple of days. 

so much for good press. 

setting down the mic, you lean over to daniel. the words are low enough so that only he can hear, “i’m done here.”

“i don’t blame you,” the aussie plucks the mic out of your hands, “get out of here. cool down. i’m sorry about that prick.”

“don’t worry about it,” you mutter, cheeks burning hot with sheer anger, “i’m leaving before i cuss them all out.”

“atta girl,” daniel winks, “i’d like to see that, though.”

“not now,” you bite your lip, “i need to bite my tongue.”

as you get up, max’s gaze is full of sympathy. alex’s mouths, i’m so sorry, disappointment painting his features. walking across the stage, daniel’s words drown in your ears. 

balling your fists together, the tingly sensation resides as you march towards your motorhome. tears blur your vision, strings of curses filling the air as you walk. after that little incident in the press room, james was not going to be happy. of course, after everything you accomplished today, it was diminished somehow. 

by an asshole reporter, at that. 

flinging open the door to the motorhome, you resist the urge to just scream. it would not help much, but god would it be cathartic. however, there were more important things to be addressed. you needed to decompress and settle down. 

as much as you wanted to celebrate with a few drinks, a shower, some comfy clothes, and your bed were more appealing. 

maybe a glass of wine in bed wouldn’t hurt. 

as you unzip your fire suit, a knock at the door disturbs the silence. 

shit. just as you were finally getting settled. 

groaning, you spin on your heel, making your way to the door. 

“daniel, i swear to fucking god. i don’t want to talk right now–”

however, it was not daniel standing at the entrance of your motorhome. 

before you was torger wolff, also known as toto wolff, team principal of mercedes-amg petronas. 

donning a white team button-up, the sleeves were rolled to his elbows, showcasing his muscular build. inky black slacks were on his lower half, making him appear taller than he already was. fluffy brunette hair stood up on nearly all ends, messy from the stress and chaos of the race.

however, there was no denying he was handsome. with sharp, angular features, and wrinkles scoured in his face over the years, it gave him a powerful yet stoic aura. 

like his name suggested, he was like a wolf, poised and eager to pounce.

yet, you were more focused on his eyes. a brilliant, warm, mocha-hued gaze framed by thick, dark lashes. and they were peering right at you, taking in the sight of you in your half-zipped fire suit, a black long sleeve underneath. 

your eyes widen, a hand covering your mouth. sheer embarrassment courses through you, heat flooding your cheeks, trickling down your neck, “i – oh my god. um, oh my god, i am so fucking sorry.”

clearing his throat, he arches a brow, “did i come at a bad time?”

“no,” you shake your head, perhaps a little quickly, “no, no, no. please, come in. how rude of me.”

there is no readable expression across the austrian’s features, his lips pucking ever so slightly, “it won’t be long, i promise.”

swallowing a lump in your throat, you step back, inviting the principal in to the motorhome. you lead him to the kitchen, gesturing to a barstool, “you can sit here if you’d like.”

he glances at the stool, yet does not sit. your brows furrow as he remains standing. leaning against a counter, you fold your arms across your chest. 

“is there a reason you stopped by?”

“as you know,” toto begins, “lewis is leaving mercedes after the 2024 season. he will be joining ferrari in 2025. to put it simply, i am on the hunt for my second driver.”

your lips purse, “i’m not sure why you came to me. you would have better luck with carlos. he’s looking for a team. i made a verbal commitment to james. i’ll be staying with williams through 2026.”

“is that so?” toto inquires, taking a step towards you, “and why are you choosing to stay with a team that limits your potential?”

the question takes you aback, “i’m not sure you what mean.”

rolling his eyes, he tuts, “williams racing is nowhere as near as competitive of a team as ferrari, redbull, mclaren, or mercedes. for years they’ve been piddling around, finishing at the bottom of the championship. yes, their drivers are talented, but they are not given opportunities to thrive.”

his comment sends another wave of anger coursing through you, your fists balling at your sides, “you have no idea what you’re talking about–”

“actually, i do. i’ve been around a long time. i’ve seen a lot more than you ever have. james is a great team principal, but you are not going to compete if you stay at williams. eventually, you’ll be like alex. you’ll finish with mediocre results. you’ll lose faith in the team who you once cherished so deeply. you’ll be ridiculed even more by the world of formula one, even more so than you already are.”

gritting your teeth, you take a step forward, “i think it’s time for you to leave.”

“what?” toto cocks his head, “did i say something you didn’t want to hear, little dove? did i strike a chord?”

“i think you’re just projecting,” you maintain your composure as the principal scoffs, “that’s exactly what happened to lewis, and you’re afraid it’s going to happen to george.”

“you’re a smart girl,” it takes a moment for you to realize how close the two of you had suddenly gotten.

he was in very close proximity now, only a few inches apart, looking down at you with a wickedly smug grin, “and i know that you’re very aware that formula one is a business. i have to maintain the mercedes reputation and acquire a driver who will bring us home podiums.” 

“i think you’ll have that luck with carlos,” breaking away, your gaze settles on the door of the motorhome. 

fingers grasp your chin, tilting your head upwards. 

“but i want you to drive for mercedes. i want to make you a world champion.”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆

please let me know if you would like to be tagged! thank you for reading! <3

[imthebadguyyy]

Earned It

pairing : carlos sainz x reader

fandom : f1

summary : you and carlos celebrate his gp win

warnings : smut smut smut smut

a/n : on a carlos high right now and im just very obsessed with this man ❤️

"I'm so proud of you"

the words echoed like a refrain, from the moment carlos had gotten out of the car till much after the celebrations were over, and the both of you found yourselves pressed against each other, against the walls in your hotel room, frenzied hands running up and down both your bodies.

panting, you let the silky material of your red dress fall to the floor, hands reaching down to unzip carlos' race suit. you had decided to dress in his colours, and it had driven him crazy the moment he saw it, and you knew it was a good choice as you felt his hot lips press against the skin of your neck, pressing wet, smacking kisses to the delicate skin.

"it's unfair of you to look this gorgeous mi niña bonita my pretty girl, you were glowing, could see you sparkling from the top of the podium, the prettiest fucking person in the whole world" he mumbled, lips pressing against yours. the clash of tongue against tongue had you gasping for air, pushing yourself up even closer against him.

"you did so well today bebé, fighting to the win? ending redbull's winning street? that's some pretty badass driving, and it was really fucking sexy to watch as well" you mumbled against his lips, feeling him smirk against yours as you did."you did so well, i think you deserve a reward. after everything you've fought through, you came out on top like the winner you are" you continued, walking backwards onto the bed, reaching up to caress his collarbone, leaning down to suck on the skin of his neck, gently running your hands down to his underwear, tracing his waist, gently squeezing the hardened muscle, fingers tracing his abs feeling him harden against you.

"mi ganador" my winner you whispered, feeling his cheeks heat up

pushing him gently down onto the bed, you began to kneel down in front of him, watching the rise and fall of his chest as his dark eyes lingered on you. "let me show you how proud I am of you", you pleaded, sinking down onto your knees, dragging his race suit and fireproofs down his legs, followed by his underwear, looking up to him with lust clouded eyes.

carlos leaned down before you could go down on him, pressing a sugary sweet kiss to your lips, tasting the raspberry lipbalm you had applied, the kiss as delicate as spun sugar, and as silken as a soft feather.

for a moment you you softened under the gently graze of his fingertips against your cheeks.

you pulled your hair into a ponytail, hands gently trailing down his stomach, feeling the goosebumps break out on his body, watching as you sunk down to your knees crawling forward, swaying your ass seductively behind you, and you felt his cock get visibly harder.

"you just sit back love, i'll do the work." you whispered softly,running your hands up his thighs, feeling his muscles clench as you did. nodding his approval to you, he cleared his throat, hand gently squeezing your shoulder.

licking your lips when you reached level with his cock, you let your hand cup around his length, giving it a few strokes. tucking the lose strands of your hair behind your ears, you leaned forward to kitten lick his throbbing tip. his breath hitched, head tilting backwards voice faltering slightly at your motions, a soft moan of "joder, mi amor" leaving his red lips, hand reaching down to grab you hair in his fist. letting the tip of your tongue swipe past his slit to collect his pre cum, you licked to the front of his head, looking up at him through hooded lashes as you did.

you could hear him muttering profanities in spanish, every word through slightly gritted teeth, making you bite back a smirk. his fingers yanked your hair, the burning on your scalp sending pleasurable tingles down your spine, straight down between your legs.

the sharp burn of your scalp only acted as encouragement. it made your skin burn, only encouraging you to keep it up.

you took to humming against him, feeling him tense up, the vibrations making his eyes roll into the back of his head when you finally took him into your mouth.

carlos whimpered, an action that he did not usually partake in, more used to being the dominant one in bed, as you hollowed your mouth around him, moving your head up to swirl your tongue around him, before taking all of him again, carlos biting back a moan as you continued working your mouth around him, as he thrusted his hips up, pleasure clouding his senses, making him hit the back of your throat as he pushed further down your throat, triggering your gag reflex.

carlos yanked your hair harder as a form of punishment, eyes shut and head thrown back, adams apple bobbing in his throat as he moaned and grunted in pleasurem

he thrusted his hips up again, letting out another loud moan of your name, hands releasing their grip on your hair softly, gently stroking your hair, the gentility of his touch and the roughness with which he was fucking your throat raw creating the most poetic juxtaposition.

but that was your carlos, hot and cold, sharp and blunt, passionate and gentle, a fierce loved and a gentle lover.

hollowing your cheeks out again, you continued to suck him, before you were rudely yanked off of your knees, and pulled into the bed, and you gasped for breath, still tasting his salty pre cum on your tongue.

"quiero correrme en tu coño mi bebita hermosa" i want to cum inside your pussy my beautiful baby girl he groaned, yanking you down for a searing kiss, shoving his tongue in your mouth, pulling your legs around his waist to run a hand down your back, squeezing your hips and gently rocking your hips on his cock, your clothed pussy weeping at the friction from the grinding.

his hands pushed your panties to the side, fingers sliding into you, making sure you were wet, and sure enough, you were dripping, it was a slight surprise to feel how soaked you were and probably had been for hours, ever since the race had ended.

you could feel his fingers pressing against your walls, and he could see the glorious sight of your juices leaking out of you, and the sight of it made him moan again, bending your legs slightly so he could have your pussy facing him at a better angle.

his fingers made scissoring motions with his fingers as they ran through your folds, causing you to arch your back, leaning closer to his touch. you felt him rub rough circles around your clit, experienced fingers stimulating the bundle of nerves perfectly bringing the sweetest moans from your lips like notes being played on a piano.

carlos knew how to play you like a violin, knowing which strings to pull to trigger that one feeling in you that had you seeing the stars and had your eyes rolling to the heavens, breathing hitching as the pleasure burst forth in your veins.

"yeah, you like that don’t you? una chica tan traviesa such a naughty girl" he grunted as he pressed his thumb down on your clit.

the moan that left your lips was pornographic, his hands roughly grasping onto your cheeks. flipping you around to push you down onto the bed, spreading your folds before shoving his head between them. his tongue found your folds and flicked through them, letting his tongue lap through the pink lips, licking up your arousal, continually sucking on your clit, before grazing his teeth at your folds before finding your clit and sucking on it.

moaning at the intense flurry of pleasure, you let your eyes fall shut, squeezing your eyelids so tight you could see little white dots burst forth. practically shoving your whole bottom half into his face, he drank every drop of your arousal like water, the squelching sounds so filthy, they were spurring you on.

"need you inside me amor" you whined out, gasping when he pulled off of you and flipped the both of you over.

"come on darling, deja que papi te cuide" let daddy take care of you he growled as he pressed a kiss to your neck again. settling yourself on top of him, he guided his cock into your fluttering entrance, dark brown eyes fixed on yours, leading one of his hands up to use his shoulders as leverage when he entered you, eyes closing when you groaned as soon as his tip slid into you.

he let his other hand press into the skin of your cheeks, forcing you to look directly at him

"you’re so fucking wet, you feel so fucking tight" he groaned as he felt your slick-covered center squeezing him, moaning at the sight of your engorged clit, begging for attention.

"baby, please fuck me, por favor muévete papi" please move daddy you cried desperately as you felt your arousal grow. you were too high strung foreplay. carlos ground his hips into yours, his hip bone sliding against your pelvis, and he moved back, softly biting your ear, nibbling on the soft skin before moving his lips down to your chest, lips wrapping around your pebbled nipple.

he sucked on your nipple like a man starved, flicking his tongue against your nipple, one hand playing with the other neglected one, fingers stroking around the tissue until it pebbled around his fingers.

he pinched the nipple, smirking as your chest rose up to press against his.

he drew back from your nipple, a clear string of spit trailing from your nipple to his lips and he blew on it gently watching as your breath stuttered, winking at the reacting he could pull from you.

"mocoso" you muttered brat

"tu mocoso" your brat he grinned, flashing his pearly whites at you.

what you weren't expecting was for him to pull out, lifting your body up like it weighed nothing to flip you over, so you were resting on all fours and you began to rock yourself against him.

your eyes closed as a whimper left your swollen lips, as you felt him rub harshly against your wetness. "for fucks sake carlos, please, just fuck me" you grunted out, too strung up for coherency. taking your words as affirmation, he thrust his hips forward, pushing fully into you, bit by bit, letting you adjust to his massive size once again.

the swollen head of his cock stretched your pussy, and his hand took your messy hair, twisting it into a ponytail, yanking you back up to his chest.

he had barely begun, and yet, you were already shaking. his lips curved into a smile, pressing against the shell of your ear before muttering, "you with me darling?" he asked, pressing a kiss behind your ear.

"yes papi" you moaned, throwing your head back again to rest on his shoulder. your nails dug into his thigh, as you held onto him tightly, feeling so full with him inside you, it was euphoric.

he pressed soothing kisses to the back of your neck and your ears, before catching you off guard, and wrapping his hand around your neck tightening his grip around your throat, making your eyes roll back.

"que buena chica, tomándome tan bien, hmm?" such a good girl, taking me so well, hmm? he tightened his grip around your throat, cutting the airflow slightly, so all you could do was let out a strangled moan, no word leaving your lips." you feel so good you know, so warm and slick and tight" he groaned against your ear, relishing in the whimper you let out.

he began to fuck you hard and fast, any traces of your soft gentle carlos vanishing.

he pounded into you, your body shaking and your cries becoming louder and louder. your nails dug into him even harder, leaving little crescents on his skin, the burn increasing his pleasure. you could feel your orgasm approaching, his cock hitting spots in you that had you seeing stars.

"I'm so fucking proud of you carlos" you moaned out, almost blubbering incoherently. "gracias mi dulce querida" thank you my sweet darling he grunted out.

"oh yes, yes, oh fuck! daddy! fuck!" your body began to shake harder as he squeezed your hip and throat harder, but carlos didn’t want you to cum so soon, oh no.

half of his reward was leaving you desperate and whining, so overstimulated and horny that all you could do was moan his name.

he pulled out, earning a groan of disapproval from you, before pushing you onto your back, before he sank his cock into you again, making you back arch off of the bed as he let your leg rest on his shoulder, pushing the other one away from you so you were perfectly spread out for him nearly making you touch your ear, from how far the stretch is.

you couldn't help the cries leaving your lips, feeling him so deep in you, the weight of his body against you, so warm and homely.

"fuck, fuck! you’re so deep papi,oh fuck!" you moaned as his thrusts became animalistic, as he lost control over his own pleasure.

"do you want me to go slower, querida?" he asked, knowing full well you would sob if he did, when he was fucking you so good, fucking deeper into you, hips snapping against yours like a rubber band.

you shook your head, eyes rolling back at the intensity, as tears began to pool in your eyes, making you bite your bottom lip so hard you knew you'd have torn the skin.

the smirk on his lips told you that it was gonna be a long night and that carlos wasn't done with you just yet. your shaky legs wrapped around his waist, squeezing it. he grabbed your face, fingers digging into your cheekbones, before pushing your face sideways into the silky pillow, making you close your eyes at the contrasting sensation of your hot cheeks against the cold pillow, the feelings setting your body on fire.

he was hard, throbbing inside your silken walls, and you could feel every inch of him, making your head spin, while your heart threatened to just leap out of your chest.

although your moans were slightly muffled, and the desperate whines leaving your lips fuelled, him, as he continued snapping his hips into you, nails digging into your thigh, the pleasurable sting sending you spiraling. you could feel ths tight muscles rippling in his back, and you scratched down the bare expanse of his back, knowing it always drove him crazy.

the sensation of you digging your nails into his back, had his hips falterring and stuttering slightly as he let out another lke growl into his ear, as he allowed himself a moment to bask in the burn of the sting before regaining his pace and thrusting back "you're so, so fucking good, just squeezing me so well hmm?" he growled out, watching as your walls squeezed him harder and your eyes shut.

"oh, shit, merde, oh yes, fuck right there, carlos, right there baby, please, oh fuck i'm so close" you managed to get out, words beginning to slur as you began to near your end.

the red hot pleasure in the pit of your stomach began to tighten, making you pant. your words just made him fuck deeper into you, which you didn't think was possible, and the filthy sound of your wetness and the sounds of your skin slapping together echoed across the hotel room. the bed began to knock against the wall, the thumping sounding sweeter than the sweetest symphony you had ever heard.

"yes, yes yes, oh fuck, carlito, te amo!" you moaned out, voice nearing the decibel of a scream.

your eyes rolled to the back of your head once again, mouth falling open in a silent scream of pleasure. for a second, you thought you lost your hearing, as a low hum filled your ears, and you could feel your heartbeat in your head, echoing through your body,and through the blinding pleasure, you heard carlos moan your name, before letting out a low grunt, feeling him release his chokehold on your throat and hips, watching as you squirted all over him.

"that's it, baby, let it go all over me, so fucking gorgeous. esto es todo para mí? this is all for me hmm? you're mine, aren't you darling? todo mío" all mine" he concluded, watching as your body shook with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

a series of profanities" and moans of carlos' name left your lips.

you thought you were done, but just as you began to come to terms with the force of your orgasm, you felt his thumb on your clit, making you jerk your hips away, shaking your head. "papi, por favor, please, no more, i can't, not anymore" you whined out, feeling your pussy throb.

"yes you can, one more bebita, just give me one more" he murmured, leaning down to kiss you again harshly, in a rough, dirty, demanding kiss.

you could feel his hips stutter, his thrusts becoming sloppy, signalling he was close to his own orgasm. you moaned into his mouth, taking the opportunity to suck his tongue.

"come on mi ganador my winner, cum for me won't you. heavens knows you deserve it mi amor my love" you asked through hooded lashes, looking up at him with doe eyes.

at your words, he dropped his head into the crook of your neck, his tongue poking out to lick patterns on the skin there, and you could hear his low, soft grunts as he chased his release, making the veins in his neck and his hand pop slightly. you could see his body glistening in the layer of sweat that had covered him,

“please baby. please cum for me, por favor papi?” you muttered sweetly, hand gently massaging the muscle of his taut shoulferm

he continued to thrust into you for a second or two more, before a deep groan left his swollen lips, and an even deeper moan of your name echoed in your ear, as he spurted his cum into your warm pussy with a groan.

your body shuttered at the warm liquid dripping into you, moaning in pleasure as the warmth of his release spread through you, enveloping you in a warm daze. panting softly, he rolled off of you.

he brought you to rest on top of him, as you let your head lay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat slowly come back to a normal pace.

his fingers entangled in the knots in your hair, moving the sweaty strands from your hair and combing out the knots, pressing kisses to your forehead and face and kiss, soft mutters of "mi niña perfecta, mi dulce niña, mi ángel, te adoro mucho, te amo tan profundamente" my perfect girl, my sweet girl, my angel, i adore you so much, i love you so deeply leaving his lips like a mantra.

you trailed kisses up his bare tummy, up his chest, before meeting his lips with yours, kissing gently to avoid bruising his pink lips even further.

you basked in the moment, enjoying the passionate kiss and the warmth of his lips and body against you. you felt his teeth tug your bottom lip into his mouth once again, letting his tongue trace your lips.

you let out a soft whimper before positioning your legs on either side of his waist, feeling him entering you once again, still hard.

carlos groaned softly, moving his hands to your ass, letting his hands trace it, before delivering a harsh smack to it.

"thank you for that, mi hermosa" he said sincerely, fingers gently tracing your knuckles.

"I'm so proud of you carlos. you never cease to amaze me" you smiled at him, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face to press a loving kiss to his nose.

the loving aura in the room was broken by the ding of carlos' phone, and you nodded to him to pick it up.

you watched as his eyebrow raised at the sight of his group chat blowing up with messages, resting your head on his chest, humming softly as you traced delicate patterns on his chest.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

lando 🥛 : carlos, im filing a noise complaint. 🍆

lord perceval 👑 : lando 😂 let them be. it's been a while :)

pierrito - carlos celebrated tonight huh? 😏

lando 🥛: he did but at what cost...

lord perceval 👑 : it was obviously some goooood 'some' ;)

maximus 💪🏻- i unfortunately could hear em too, and im on the other end of the hall.

lando 🥛: my valued sleep has been broken carlos.

lord perceval 👑: don't be jealous lando

pierrito: yes lando don't be jealous that carlos is getting the best sex of his life and you're not

lando 🥛: fuck off

alexander 🎊 : aint no way they're still going, carlos hasn't read our messages yet

lord perceval 👑: ...... good for his stamina??

maximus 💪🏻: intensive circuit training and core stability has been achieved

chili 🌶️: guys were so sorry we didn't know we were being so loud

pierrito : had fun sainz?

lando 🥛 : carlos sainz vasquez bla bla you were so fucking loud all of singapore heard you fucking

chili 🌶️: don't be jealous lando, now adios

lord perceval 👑: round 2?!

pierrito: round 2?!

alexander 🎊: round 2?!

maximus 💪🏻: round 2?!

lando 🥛 : im getting earbuds.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you let out a startled laugh as carlos showed you the group chat, a flush creeping up your cheeks as you hid your face in his neck.

"ahora querida, no eras tímida cuando te estaba cogiendo el cerebro, ¿por qué te escondes ahora? now darling, you werent shy when i was fucking your brains out, why are you hiding now? he smirked, a devilish smile painting his lips.

"dont tease me chili" you whined, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"alright i won't tease you, querida, but they were right about one thing" he said, throwing a suggestive grin your way.

biting your lip in anticipation, you ran a finger down his toned stomach, batting your eyelashes at him innocently.

"whats that, amor?"

"we are definitely going for round two."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : ahhh idk how to feel about this??? but it was just a sour of the moment fic i wrote on half an hour so not my best work 😕 but as always, likes reblogs comments opinions etc are appreciated 🩷 happy reading and much love always xoxo

TAGS -

everything: @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird

f1 : @ashykit @moon-enthusiast @

TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST SEND ME AN ASK OR A DM SPECIFYING WHICH FANDOM ♥️

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

Summary: Life is soooo hard being a spoiled little housewife, sometimes all you need is for Rafe to think for you. 18+MDNI!!

Warnings: Daddy kink!, cockwarming, body worship, dom/sub dynamics, mostly fluff? (Idk being soft is not my strong suit be nice to me) also you can thank @strangerstilinski for putting the image of Rafe playing w your hair while you cockwarm him in my head.

Today was hard. By your standards at least. It felt like every single little thing was going wrong. First your nail tech made your nails too squared off, then your hair appointment got canceled. You went to the mall to try to get the new shoes you’ve been lusting after but they didn’t have your size even though it said they did online. Starbucks made your coffee wrong and to top it all off you stopped at the store to get stuff to bake Rafe cookies and you fucking burned them. It didn’t help that you were about to get your period so you felt extra needy and Rafe wasn’t even here to take care of you because he had to work late.

You feel like a huge baby sitting in the edge of you and Rafe’s plush bed, pouting over such minuscule things. But it isn’t your fault Rafe conditioned you to get whatever you want, whenever you want. Plus you wanted to do something for yourself today, usually he drives you around on maintenance and shopping days but you thought it might be fun to go on your own. Apparently not. So after the commotion with the cookies and the smoke alarm you decided to just sit down and wait for Rafe. He was all you wanted right now. When you hear the front door open your entire body practically perks up, just knowing he was home eased the tension in your body some immediately.

“Baby? Where are you?” Rafe calls out to you as you hear his expensive loafers against the carpet. He rounds the corner into the room and sees you sitting on the bed with your pretty little eyes brimmed with tears and your sparkly glossed lips set into a pout as they wobble. “Hey, sweet girl, what’s going on?”

“Daddy - I -“ your sentence is cut off by a whimper as the tears in your eyes start to stream down your cheeks. He rushes towards you, taking your face in his hands, running his thumbs under your eyes to keep your mascara from staining your face.

“Shhh, it’s okay baby, daddy’s got you, I’m gonna take care of you, okay? C’mere.” He leans down and presses a gentle kiss on your lips before crouching down on one knee so he can take your little pink heels off your feet. He runs the tips of his fingers along your ankles before pressing his lips against the inside of each one. He stands again, taking your hands in his so he can softly pull you to your feet. “My girl just had a long day, huh? Need me to think for you?”

“Mhm.” You let out a sigh as he presses his lips to your shoulder, he pushes the strap of your little tank top down before kissing across your collar bones, his lips touching every inch they can.

“Use your words, Princess.” He mumbles against your skin as he starts to kiss up your neck, leaving soft nibbles and gently sucking on the skin.

“Yes, daddy, need you to take care of me. Don’t wanna think anymore. Please.” You whine.

“Alright, don’t gotta beg, baby. I’ve got you.”

His finger tips caress the skin underneath your shirt as he grabs onto the hem and pulls it over your head. His hand comes around your back to undo your bra and he places wet open mouthed kisses on each of your nipples. Rafe takes his time unzipping your skirt, and pushing it off your hips, his lips grazing over and sucking on any skin they can reach as he undresses you with such tenderness. Once you’re finally bare before him one of his large hands cups your face while the other grips onto your hip, pulling your lips to his.

“Look at you, my perfect girl, so beautiful.” He pulls his shirt over his head and grabs you by the hips as he walks backwards towards the bed, using his grip to maneuver you so that you’re straddling his lap. “What do you want, hmm?”

“Just want you. I don’t know.” You pout up and him and he chuckles slightly, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Alright baby, how about you sit on my cock and just let me hold you for a while, huh? How’s that sound?” He smooths down your hair as he smiles sweetly at you.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” You hum and Rafe wraps one of his thick arms around your hips to maneuver you so that he can use his free hand to pull his pants down enough to free his cock. He’s already hard, it doesn’t take much more than seeing you naked and needy for him to get him going nowadays. Honestly he thinks if you breathed just right he would be rock hard in seconds. He uses his grip on you to line you up with his cock, gently pushing his tip into your entrance.

“You’re always so tight for me, princess. So wet.” Rafe gently thrusts the rest of the way inside of you, pressing your hips flush against his. “There you go baby.”

“Mmm, missed you daddy.” You let out a sigh of relief as wrap your arms around his neck and lean forward, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“Missed you too baby, always miss you.” He kisses the top of your head, massages your scalp, rubs your shoulders, leaving kisses behind his in wake. Rafe runs his hands down your back, gently massaging your muscles. He connects your lips and slowly rolls your tongues together as his hands continue to rub and worship every inch of your body they can reach.

“Love every part of you.” He mumbles against your lips as his kisses travel over to your cheek and down your jaw. “Love this pretty face.” He kisses your nose. “Love this cute little nose.” He runs his nose down your jaw to your neck where he counties to place tender open mouth kisses. “Love this pretty throat.” His kisses travel down your shoulder to your arms. “Your soft skin.” He kisses the back of your hand before gently placing his lips on the pad of each one. “Love your cute hands, all these lil rings you wear and how small they look around my cock.”

“Raaaafey, I love you.” You giggle, causing your walls to constrict around him.

“I love you, angel. If you keep laughing like that I’m gonna have to flip you over and fuck you until you can’t talk though.” He chuckles as his hands find your ass and squeeze the flesh between his fingers. His words make you wiggle in his lap, causing his tip to brush against your sweet spot.

“Mmm… I wouldn’t be against it.” You gently rock your hips against his, looking at up at him with your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Yeah?” You giggle and nod. He smiles widely at you before flipping you onto your back. “You’re fuckin’ in for it.”

[huevoconfrijoles]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ Guess *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Summary: he wants to guess the color of my underwear

Authors note: I’m so down bad for Joost it’s crazy.

Today was the day I decided to tidy up my room. The closet door barely even closed with all the clothes sprawled on the floor from times in which I swore to myself I would pick them up once I got home. I groaned, looking at the mess I made myself.

I managed to fix and rearrange most of my closet, but not without distractions. I found a bunch of clothes I stole from Joost including shirts and hoodies that were too big for my own body. The scent of his cologne lingered on my nose.

God, I miss him.

Wait, he hasn’t even texted me.

It was getting late, so I showered and got in bed, putting whatever show I came across first on Netflix for background noise. It was another hour before I received a text from Joost.

we just got done

you up? :p

Of course, I was up and he knew it. I can’t sleep without telling him goodnight. I mean I can, but I don't want to

yes im upp

im sleepy tho

I snapped a quick picture in bed showing off the shirt I had clearly stolen from him. A white t-shirt that read ‘I ❤️ Joost Klein’. That man loved himself maybe a bit more than me. I don’t mind.

what are you wearing? 🤨

a shirt lol

just a shirt then?

ofc not 🙄 im wearing stuff under too

i hope it’s another joost klein shirt with joost klein socks. he’s a cool guy.

yeah he’s the bestt

and unfortunately it’s not another joost klein shirt sorry 😔

i don’t know i might need proof

My cheeks started to burn up. He’s not even here next to me, and he knows how to make me flustered.

Fuck it.

I quickly pull off the sheets and roll my top up a bit just so there’s under boob.

see. just 1 joost klein top here.

id rather there be no top involved.

But let’s not say

My heart jumps at the notification.

1 image attachment

joost klein underwear over here

Like I said, that man loved himself more than me at this point.

I'm going to need some of those underwear

I’m sure the ones you have on right now are wayyy better than some loser named joost klein…

i bite the inside of my cheek at the thought of where this conversation is heading.

wouldn’t you like to know

i would.

what color are they?

He’s such a guy, of course he’d want to know

guess

pink

see through?

no idea (i’m a visual learner btw)

I soon got an incoming FaceTime call from a red-cheeked Joost.

“So was I right? ” His face was illuminated, but I could see the tiredness in his eyes mixed with lust.

“Not even close”, I laughed and sat up a bit.

“You’re lying, let me seppe.”

I gently bite the side of my lip while I fulfilled his wish. I lift the oversize shirt that was covering my lower half painfully slowly. So much that Joost groans out of frustration.

“Such a tease” he muttered.

I finally gave him a peek at my black lacy undergarment. The look on his face was pure desperation. He roughly swallows and ruffles his hair.

“I wish I was there with you” he says.

“I know baby” I said, looking into his blue eyes through the screen.

“ Can you touch yourself for me?” he quietly asks, to which I nod and comply.

My hand travels down from my chest to my thighs, my phone in the other tracking my actions.

I could hear his phone shake a bit. He adjusted the position so that his upper torso and lower half of his body were in the frame.

He palms himself through the tight fabric of his boxers. Soft moans escape his mouth every so often as his eyes follow my every move. His gaze never faltering from the screen.

My hand travels down to push the lace fabric to the side. My fingers work in a fast motion against the slickness, dipping in and out occasionally.

Our moans fill the atmosphere in my room. We both come down from our highs and are a panting mess.

“I love you, but now I have to go clean up the mess you made me do” he says, winking at me through the screen.

[theminecraftbee]

"Well hello there Secret Keeper!" Scar says, chipper. "It's a bea-ut-i-ful day today here on the Secret Life server, and I'm here for my daily hearts for winning! I have to say, it is gorgeous today. Really a lot easier to keep the rain away without other players, what with sleeping through the night not being a problem at all! Did you know, by the way, that sleeping and rain are connected? I didn't until recently, but by golly, they sure are! Can you imagine? The world is full of so many strange things."

The Secret Keeper, being a big dumb stone statue, doesn't reply. Scar's beginning to think it's just rude. It sure replies whenever he hits the button, which is the first step in his morning routine these days. He's gotten better at dodging damage, really, even with the nearly infinite hearts! He's just not so good at dodging skeletons and creepers and such that he shouldn't top off every day.

He hits the button. He feels his health return to him. He gets a new task: Win Secret Life.

He snorts, a little bitter, to himself as he reads it and folds it into his pocket. "You know, I don't know if I'm lucky or unlucky that you're such a moron that you don't know what winning means. Your machine is broken."

No response, again, because the Secret Keeper is, as established, a big old dumb rock. Well, whatever. Besides, if he lingers on resentment and upset for too long, it might catch up with him! He's certainly let it catch up with him before. Why, a few days after he'd won, when he really had it sink in that he was for-real alone on a server covered in lightning burn marks and blood, he had a bit of a breakdown! There was sobbing, screaming, yelling at the world, the whole works! And when no one responded then, well--

"Did I just call you a moron? I'm sorry, I didn't mean that!" Scar says. "You know how I get sometimes. The world is beautiful and warm, but sometimes it gets a little hard to breathe around here! Now, where were we... oh, right! The trading post terraforming project! Now, we hit a bit of a snag the other day, what with the wandering traders I'd caught all sort of--dying--and all that, but luckily, more of them might show up any moment, and they really are vital to making the place feel alive and breathing. So today we're taking a break from that to build up some trees!"

He waves his arms like someone is listening. He'd like to imagine someone is. Grian told him he won--just because all the ghosts are quiet now doesn't mean they aren't there! And if that was a moment of temporary insanity, well, he probably--he needs to think it's not, is the thing! He absolutely needs to think it's not.

He hums and gathers more logs. His makeshift tree farms are pretty nice, if he does say so himself. He pauses as he hears distant howling and sighs. "I guess we will also be spending today cleaning up the wolf population! I swear, I have no idea what those people were thinking making a wolf spawner. A man takes a nap for a day and then the entire server is overrun with stupid white animals! And you know, I do hate having to cull the things, but, well, you know me. I've learned how to kill pretty well, I think, and really, dogs are easier to kill than people."

He grabs a sword from his chest and sharpens it. He keeps it perfectly clean so that there isn't too much blood on it. Good thing, too; most of the blood would probably be his. He's a bit clumsy, after all. He cuts his fingers on it all the time. No matter how well he bandages up his hands, he just keeps making them bleed, drip, drip, dripping blood on every path he walks down. No matter how hard he works to clean up his massive building projects, the little splatters of blood follow him, so he's sticking to dark colors where he can.

The flowers will probably show the blood, he thinks. The flowers and trees he's building. Hopefully, the blood doesn't stand out too much. It feels wrong, in a world where there are no bodies.

He stands up. He heads in the direction of today's pack of unwanted pests. He sighs. "You know, I know your question is, well gosh, Scar! All the previous winners died. When are you going to finish it off and kill yourself? And wow, that's a pretty dark question. You should be ashamed of yourself for asking, really." He laughs. It's not funny. Who cares.

Instead, he shakes his head.

"And, well, you have to understand. I'm not done building yet! I can make my base so much nicer looking! And besides, you're still handing me hearts. If I get hurt, I can just come back and get more from you! If you want to die, you have to kill me yourself. You fucking cowards!"

No response.

He sighs. "Well, that's enough of that for today. Sorry, I'm feeling kind of morose. It's all this sunshine! Can't be good for a man. Did you know populated servers rain more often than unpopulated ones? It's true! It's because people don't sleep enough. But here I am, getting all the sleep I need. Now, time to go kill some dogs and build some trees! I can't think of a better way to spend an afternoon, can you?"

His hands hurt. He ignores it. He ignores a lot of hurt, these days. It's not like it's hard.

[barefoothighlander]

Hiii saw that your requests were open (it’s past midnight when I saw your post) but literally head empty shameless breeding smut with ghost the size difference with that man as he has you trapped beneath him and him just tossing your legs over his shoulders y’a know the sex about to be crazy crazy 😫 man that man has me on my knees begging and blindfolded tied up horny im just rambling now damn ghost… also I hope im doing this right with the request thoughts cuz it’s so late and my period hormones got me giggling thinking of him 🤭🤭

y'all I won't lie, I was outside today and my neighbours were working on their deck and they were grunting... thoughts were being thunk, anyways I am ALWAYS down for breeding kink ghost that man has a grip on me

warnings: mdni (18+), est relationship, unprotected pinv, creampie, dirty talk

You don't even get a second to welcome him home cause the minute he's in the door he grabs you, wrapping his arms around your waist and hoisting you into the air.

It takes you by surprise how fast he is, ripping his mask off and kissing you, it's rough and needy, he's exhausted from work and he craves you.

He lays you down on the bed, practically ripping your clothes off so he can see you, he takes exactly 20 seconds to gaze at your body beneath him, your chest rising and falling before his lips attack every part of your skin.

His fingers work your clit, it's animalistic the way he touches you, pawing and nipping at your skin, you're panting under him as his hips slot into yours, he leans over you caging your frame with his.

There's nowhere for you to go, trapped by his arms, his chest pressing against yours keeping you pinned to the mattress as he kisses you.

He lines himself up and bottoms out in a single thrust, you yelp from the intrusion, your teeth biting into the flesh of his shoulder, he loves when you mark him, love bites or scratches from your nails, it turns him on quicker than anything.

"Shit, need you so bad love" His words escape through grunts

"Fuck I missed you Si" You're whimpering

He's thrusting his full length into you, settling back on his legs to watch where the two of you meet, he presses his hand flat against your stomach,

"Shit, can almost see myself inside you love"

His thumb circles your clit as his free hand grabs at your thighs, pulling them onto his shoulders to allow him deeper.

Everything in your mind blanks, the pleasure taking over your body, he's pounding into you with at least half his weight, his tip grinding against your cervix while he works your clit.

"Swear I'm gonna fuck a baby into you love, tight pussys fuckin swallowing me"

You moan at his words, spurring him on, he grabs both of your thighs and presses them against your stomach, his weight pinning you down as he rams into you, your slick coats his pubes as they grind against your clit, you're so close.

He leans down and his lips envelop your nipple, his teeth biting lightly and it's just the right mix of everything, your legs shake under him as you clench down on his cock, whines falling from your lips.

"Shit baby, don't move, gonna fill this little pussy"

You stare at him with hooded eyes,

"S'that what you want? You wanna walk around full of my cum, make sure everyone knows who this pussy belongs to?"

His eyes are dark, full of lust and your mouth falls open, trying its hardest to form words but all you can do is nod.

"Yeah, you want that? Gonna watch your stomach grow with my fuckin seed"

He presses down into you, using his full weight as he cums, burying his cock impossibly deep inside you as his cum floods your walls, you sigh at the feeling as he's grunting, light whimpers escaping his mouth as your pussy milks him.

He holds his softening cock inside you, ensuring that every drop makes it in before pulling out, using his fingers to push his spend back in.

Your body is on fire, every nerve burning for him as he collapses on top of you, using his elbows to hold some of his weight, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear as he peppers kisses on your neck.

"Missed you so much lovie"

[captainpulisic]

you dream of my mouth - m. mount

a/n - this is for my baby s, you made me the happiest girl ever today- oh, and molly for manifesting it

wc: 2.5k gif creds to owner

whoever has the fucking audacity to be knocking at your door at two in the morning just made their way to the top of your enemy list. you stifle a yawn as you reach the door, who's even awake at this time?

slightly raising your tiptoes, you look through the peephole at the inconsiderate person who clearly doesn’t care about you getting your beauty sleep. yet the person you see has your eyes widening and falling to the ground, out of sight. 

as if he could see you. 

you’re sure you must still be dreaming. this has to be some sort of too realistic hallucination. you must be still tucked into bed, having the weirdest dream of your life. because why else would mason fucking mount be at your doorstep after months of no contact?

there was no reason for him to be here. after signing and transferring to manchester, he had wasted no time in breaking up with you, reasoning that long distance never really worked. after that and too far away from his former life, he was quick to be papped with new girls every other week. it made you miserable, seeing how quick he was to move on, to be so open about his newest flings. you, on the other hand, had some decency to be on the downlow about the guys you began to date- or tried to date, anyway. none of them managed to stick, falling victim to you comparing them to mason. they just weren’t him. and you hated how quick you were to dismiss them over that.  

catching your breath, you gain the courage to look through, again. your eyes hadn’t been deceiving you, it really was him. it was a blurry and disoriented lense but from what you can make out, he looks disheveled and quite a mess. his hair looks tousled, as if he had been continuously tugging at it.

you remember that had always been a nervous habit of his. and a habit of yours had become swatting his hands away, replacing them with your own as you tried to style his hair back into place. oh, how your hands were itching to do it right now. to run your fingers through it and feel him lean into your touch.

it had been ages since that’d happened. 

your heart wasn’t giving your brain no time to think because before you knew it, you were unlocking and opening the door. 

and there mason stood, looking at you like a deer caught in headlights. he tried to take a step towards you, stumbling in the process. he braced himself against the door frame, trying to balance himself as he mumbled your name. and you curse yourself for pulling him towards yourself, giving him some extra support. slurring his words, “tell me it isn’t true.”

great, you sigh. he’s drunk. 

“ben told me that he saw you out today,” he manages to mumble. your body freezes when his hand reaches up to cradle your jaw. and your heart speeds up when his thumb begins to swipe at your bottom lip. his eyes shift from your own eyes down to your lips, “that he saw out with some guy, saw you kissing him. ‘s not fair, it was me you were kissing not too long ago y’know?”

he always did get clingy when drunk. you’re too weak to shove him away but not weak enough to bite back, “until you left.”

you see the words register, as his eyes show a flash of hurt. the corner of his mouth slightly dips, as he shakes his, trying to forget about the night he idiotically let you go. 

“oh, ‘m sorry I left, pretty girl.” after a moment of eyes sweeping all over your face, his lips turn upwards, into a dopey smile. with his hand still cupping your jaw, he begins to swipe at your bottom lip again. “but i’m back now.” 

you’re certain your face is burning red, legs already turning to jelly. thank god he’s still technically holding you up or you’re certain you’d be on the floor by now. you curse him for having this effect on you and curse yourself for still falling for it. your problem had always been being too weak around him.

he waits for you to throw a sarcastic quip, or even to tell him to ‘fuck off’, but all he gets from you are blushing cheeks and an averted gaze. taking this as a good sign, he leans in to leave a kiss at the corner of your mouth. pulling pack to check your reaction, he grins when he sees your closed eyes and ghost of a smile. 

from there, he plants a few more open mouthed kisses on your cheek, always going back to the corner of your mouth in between each one. never on your lips, though- just slight brushes over them. the damned bastard won’t give you the satisfaction too easily. when he feels your lips begin to chase his, desperate to taste him again, he disappears once more. with the hand cupping your jaw, he lightly tilts your face upward, giving himself plenty of access to focus on your neck.  

you’re about to protest from the lack of actual kissing you’ve received but quickly bite your own tongue when you feel him leave a small bite at the crook of your neck. he presses a peck to the same spot, marveling at the fast forming bruise. mason hums, “there, the way it should be.” 

he fails to see you roll your eyes at his possessive antics, too busy refamiliarizing himself with the crook of your neck. it’s a trail of kisses from the curve of your shoulder to the space behind  your ear, a few bites given in between. hearing your breathy sighs, he takes it as reaffirmations to continue. so he kisses your neck and jaw and cheek (anywhere but your actual mouth, really- which becomes quite frustrating!), again and again and again. 

finding his way back up to your face, he comes to a halt when he’s eye level with you. as if seeing each other for the first time again, under happier circumstances, there’s a doe-eyed fondness in both your eyes and matching lovesick smiles.

decidedly having had enough of his teasing, your hands find their way to the sides of his stubble filled cheeks. it’s all so fast as your lips finally meet masons, finding a rhythm that’s all too familiar. it was soft, yet deep and heated. it was the making up of months without each other, being desperate to fill in for the lost time. instantly, you taste the alcohol that has him acting so brazen. both your hands were desperate, tugging and pulling at each others clothes. his hands have found their way to the hem of your shirt, feeling the warm skin of your hips. closing your eyes, your arms drop down to his shoulders, around his neck, pulling him flush against yourself. and you felt a tinge of satisfaction every time he moaned into the kiss. 

his lips never leaving yours, he began to guide you backward, still knowing the layout of your flat without having to look. when you felt the back of your legs hit the couch, you let mason push you down to lay on it. in an instant, he followed you down and was on you. again, his mouth was all over you. neck, jaw, lips, cheeks and repeat. 

you come somewhat back to your senses when you feel his fingers nimbly trying to unbutton your blouse. he finds it a difficult feat due to his still inebriated state. 

how often did he find himself in this predicament with all the girls he had been out with recently? your horrid, sensible mind question itself. all those girls that he’s papped with, how many of them end up on his couch? did any of them naively think they’d be the ones to finally lock him and his heart down, just as you had? 

the thought of it made you nauseous.

you couldn’t fall victim to him, not again. if you gave yourself to him once more, watching him leave would utterly destroy you. the possibility of history repeating itself, of him leaving and parading his latest conquest back in manchester, would be your death. you’re not sure you’d recover this time and you don’t want to see it through to find out. 

“mase- wait,” your heart feels betrayed by your mind, as you find the strength to lightly shove his shoulders. 

you see the confusion in his eyes as he peers down at you. holding himself up with his forearms, careful not to squish you, “is something wrong?”

you try to voice your pesky worries but you can’t seem to find the words. instead, you just shake your head as you begin to detangle yourself from him. you can see the confusion etched on his face but nonetheless, he silently mirrors your actions, unsure of when the night had taken a turn. it’s an awkward maneuver of limbs and loud silence. 

he had been positive everything was going to go his way tonight. truth be told, when ben had told him he had seen you out on a date with some guy, he had seen red. he was aware of how hypocritical he was being but the high volume of drinks he had drunk were making him think his childish tantrum was reasonable. taking another shot for good measure, he called a cab and made his way to your place. 

he wasn’t sure what his endgame was when you opened the door, if you even opened it. he wanted to confront you for moving on. he wanted to apologize for leaving and ruining the loveliest relationship he’d ever had. he wanted you to apologize for snogging some loser who wasnt him, out in the open where anybody could see. he wanted to apologize if he ever made you think any of those girls meant what you had to him.

each knock to your door, his mind flashed to those flings he had been stupid enough to have. with every knock, he felt a sudden urgency to let you know that they amounted to nothing. you needed to know of the few occasions these girls left, annoyed and offended that he had accidentally said your name instead. that no girl made his tummy feel as fuzzy as you did, no one came close. maybe it wasn’t the wisest thing to do but his intoxicated, hazy brain had to tell you that most nights, he’d fall asleep to dreams of you. 

too wrapped up in his thoughts, you clearing your throat snapped him back to the present. your eyes glued to the floor “i’m going to call ben to pick you up, okay?” 

what? why? masons mouth feels too dry. he’s at a loss for words. he hadn’t told you half of the things he wanted to and now you were kicking him out. he was sure his shock would sober him up.

as you stand up from the couch to go retrieve your phone, all he can do is helplessly stare at your retreating figure. he had so much to tell you and his brain was failing him. that last shot was a mistake, not a confidence booster as he had thought. 

when you come back into the room, he’s able to catch the ending of you saying, “alright, see you soon.”

you make a point on sitting on the other side of the couch, putting some distance between the two of you.

no, he wants to whine. I don’t want to leave. I wanna be with you and kiss you and your pretty mouth. I fall asleep dreaming of it. 

all he can slur out, “I wanna kiss you, again.”

it pains you to say, “mason, no.”

“why not?” he pouts, a sad look in his eyes. he reaches for your hand that had been folded in your lap, the hand that had been itching to touch him again. rubbing his thumb along it, “you used to love kissing me.”

“until you left me and started kissing other girls,” you bite back. you know it’s not a fair fight, him not fully there to defend himself. and then you feel even worse as you watch his face fall. 

“I’m sorry,” he says in a small voice, “I never should’ve left.”

it’s useless to argue, he won’t even remember this in the morning. you sigh, “forget it, ben will be here soon.”

resigned, mason nods and leans back to sit on the couch. the silence is deafening and all he wants to do is kiss you. why won’t you let me kiss you? his brain wants to shout. 

as the clock ticks on the wall, he feels his eyes grow tired by the minute. he hoped ben would get lost and he’d be forced to spend the night. he didn’t care if nothing physically happened between the two of you, just being in your proximity would leave him content. 

the thought of it makes him let out a soft chuckle, with a yawn following close by. and on your side of the couch, you let your eyes wander towards him. it hurts having so close yet with the knowledge that you’ll never have him again, not truly. tomorrow he'll be on his way back to his new home with new girls waiting for him. 

no, it’s better this way you try to reassure yourself.

hearing another yawn escape him, you allow yourself to fully look at him. offering a small smile, “rest, i’ll wake you when ben gets here.”

“I don’t wanna,” another yawn, “I need to tell you so much.”

“you can tell me some other time.”

“but what if you don’t ever wanna talk another time,” his voice is sad and a bit sleepy. he’s about to fall into slumber any second now, you remember the signs of it. eyes slightly closing then opening, “and you need to know.”

you catch yourself whispering, “know what?”

he leans his head back further into the couch cushion. his words come out all mumbled together but you’re able to hear a faint ‘mouth’. 

“hmm?”

“your mouth, your pretty mouth”, more inaudible whispers, “I dream of it all the time.”

“mase,” you're cut off by a knock at the door. clearly timing had never been on either of your sides. when you look back at him, you’re met with his peaceful, resting face. maybe this was for the better. and as you let ben in and simply watch him half-carry mason to his car, your heart inexplicably aches. there was a sense of finality to the situation, an unspoken final goodbye. this time tomorrow, he’d be back in his new life and you’d have to start with your new life. it was over and you had to come to terms with it

this was kinda rushed but needed to celebrate the exciting day,, like always, feedback is very much appreciated!

[loveshotzz]

I hope I’m not late for request this🥹:

[inside one muses’s office] with AIRWIY!Steve? And reader give him his first blowjob?🥹

So this one got a little out of hand, but 🥺 I love him and he deserves the best head in the world if you ask me. Thank you for your request! 💕 I hope you like it!

older!steve x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ age gap, new established relationship, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, smidge of size kink, smidge of daddy kink, finger sucking, swallowing.

wc: 2.8k

A/N: This request is apart of my completed series All I Really Want Is You, but can be read as a stand alone. For those that read the series this takes place shortly after chapter ten.

It was supposed to be a nice lunch in his office on your day off. You weren’t supposed to be giving him elevator eyes from the other side of his desk while he complained to you about his day. But no one had warned you about what middle of the work day Steve looked like. Not quite as dishievied as the end of it when he’s checking his mail, but not put together like when you see him leave his house through your bedroom window when the sun is barely touching the sky. More importantly, you didn’t know about the glasses.

The thin silver frames sit perched on the end of his nose with hair that looks like he just started running his hands through it. The slicked back style it began the day in still sticks to some of his auburn locks while the rest develop a crazed mind of their own. He had popped open the top two buttons of his crisp white dress shirt, revealing a matching tank top underneath and the beginnings of the soft dark thatch of hair that covers his chest. His sleeves are rolled up to the middle of his forearms, and the tan he still has left over from the last few days of summer makes his skin look bronzed. The scruff that lines his jaw is thicker today than he’d usually allow too, but that’s because he’d forgotten his razor in your bathroom the last night he slept over. 

God, he was handsome. 

“Wrapping up at the end of a season, especially one where we didn’t make it to the finals has been nightmare, honey.” He rubs his eyes from under his glasses leaning back in his seat. 

He was stressed too.

The leather squeaks with his movements, and your gaze finds its way to his newly revealed waist. His black dress slacks are pulled tight over his thighs, and the silver buckle of his belt gleams when it hits the sun spilling in from his office windows. 

“Just one more week till your vacation,” you remind him gently, your fingers playing with the hem of the sundress and you catch the way his eyes track your movements, wetting his lips.

“One more week till I get to have you all for myself.” He counters, making you giddy at the thought of your first trip together to New York, “enough about my day though. Let me get a better look at this pretty dress you’re wearin’, is it new?” 

There’s heat flickering behind his gaze when he gestures for you to stand in front of him, something a little mischievous in his grin that makes your skin buzz.

“Yeah, I got it at Lost Girls after work the other day. I’d been looking at it for a while through the window, thought I’d do something nice for myself.” Your nerves make you ramble as you get up, but Steve thinks it’s cute. He thinks everything you do is cute.

“It’s really, really nice baby,” he praises when you get in front of him letting his eyes roam all the ways it hugs your curves just right, like it was made custom for your body and his slacks get a little tighter. “You look so beautiful, give me a little twirl.”

Your face burns like it’s the middle of June at his request, and the golden emerald of his eyes get darker from behind his lenses. The air around you both turns electric when your already short hem flutters out around the tops of your thighs, spinning around twice for him, just enough to give a glimpse of the red lace that hugs your ass cheeks underneath. 

“You gonna be wearing this tonight when I pick you up for dinner?” He asks with big hands reaching out for you, begging you to get closer.

“I didn’t know we had plans tonight.” You giggle letting your wedges carry you to the space he made for you between his legs. The cedar and spice of his cologne envelopes your senses when you get close enough for his hands to find the back of your thighs pulling you to him with a squeal.

The whites of his teeth show when he looks up at you with a smile that steals your breath away, squeezing at the soft dough under his palms.

“What kinda boyfriend would I be if I didn’t show you off any chance I got?” The pads of his thumbs swipe against the hem of the lace that meets at the curve of your ass, butterflies in your stomach because you’ll never get used to hearing him say that.

“Yeah, I’ll wear it, handsome.” You agree, making him hum in approval. 

He lets you run your fingers through the soft silk of his hair, silver strands showing themselves to you in a mess of dirty blonde and auburn as you scratch along his scalp. Steve groans at the feeling and it goes straight to your core, his long fingers tightening around the plush of your thighs, leaning his forehead against the soft pudge of your tummy with his eyes closed.

“Fuck,” He mumbles against you, the wheels on his chair roll him closer as his hands grip higher, warm palms finding the dough of your buttcheeks when you scratch at the nape of his neck. 

You watch the way his shoulders slump, the muscles in his body finally starting to unwind from your touch. You want to unwind him more.

“Steve?” His name comes out in just above a whisper, your nerves threatening to get the best of you. 

“Hmm?” He hums in response, too lost in the feeling of your nails dragging over his scalp.

“Let me take care of you.” Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you tug a little at his roots asking him to meet your gaze. 

“Honey,” It doesn’t sound like a protest, and it doesn’t feel like it either when his nails dig half crescent moons into the backs of your thighs, staring up at you with wide eyes.

You remember the empty hallways on your way up. Everyone was gone for the season, including Richard.

“You’ve been working so hard, you deserve it.” You cup the side of his face, your body buzzing when he leans into your touch. “Will you let me?”

“I - “ Wetting his lips, Steve glances at the door before bringing his attention back to you, “yeah, okay, shit, yeah.”

You hold his heavy lidded gaze with a confidence he’s never seen before as you drop to your knees, the nails that were just in his hair dragging along his thighs and it sends him reeling. He doesn’t know how long you’ve thought about this.

The carpet is rough on your freshly lotioned skin, the bottom hem of your dress pulling up over the tops of your thighs. Leaning back in his chair, the new angle gives him the perfect view down the deep heart shaped neckline of your dress. The necklace he got you on your first date shimmers just above the swell of your breasts and it makes his cock press into the metal of his zipper. He wishes he could take a picture of you right now.

“You want this baby?” His voice comes out gruff when he asks, the gold inside his eyes darkening to something almost black as he runs a hand through his hair.

“You have no idea, just how bad I want it … daddy.” Looking up at him through thick lashes, you punch the air out of his lungs in a low exhale through his nose when you don’t hesitate to start working at the silver of his belt buckle.

“Fuck, you can’t say - ” He huffs out exasperated, contemplating taking a half day so he can spend the rest of it in bed with you. 

Leather squeaks underneath him when he lifts his hips to help you tug his pants down. The hard outline of him strains against his briefs, mouth watering when you notice the darkened spot where he’s already leaking into the black cotton. More confident now, your palms find purchase on the tops of his hairy thighs, leaning forward you let heat of your breath make him twitch, earning a low groan when your lips trail like a ghost behind it.

“Can’t say what?” Your tone drips innocence, your bottom lip tugging down against the covered head of his cock before lifting your gaze with a mischievous smirk, relishing in the sharp inhale he takes through his teeth. 

“I think you’re gonna kill me.” He almost laughs, running a hand over his face. Pushing up his glasses in the process he settles his heavy gaze on you with a lazy grin as they slide down the slope of his nose.

You hum, glossed lips twisting at the corners as you hook your fingers in the elastic of his briefs, giving them a gentle pull to signal what you want. Steve gives it to you without any hesitation, the full weight of his cock slapping against his stomach making your thighs press at the thought of being stretched by it. The pink tip swipes against the hem of his button up that sits rucked up at his belly button and you don’t think you’ll ever be immune to just how big and pretty he is.

“That wouldn’t be very nice of me huh?” you tease looking up at him with a pout.

“Nuh-uh” He mumbles, face crumpling a little watching your fingers try to wrap around the base of him, the tips of them just barely meeting on the other side. The grip he has on the armrest of his chair, stretches his skin so tight the whites of his knuckles start to show.

“And, I wanna be nice,” he feels like velvet in your hand, the pad of your thumb tracing the large vein that runs up the side, before swiping over his sensitive head. You collect what he’s already given to you with enough pressure to make his toes curl inside his wingtip dress shoes.  

Leaning forward, you slowly let your tongue run the length of him, feeling the way he twitches against the muscle before paying extra attention to what’s weeping for you, swirling your tongue around the tip. Salty and little sweet from the way he drinks his coffee in the morning, you hum pleased when he hits your taste buds. 

“God, honey.”

You don’t give him any warning when you wrap your lips around him, a greedy tongue flattening along the underside. Gagging when he hits the back of your throat, you still try to open up just a little more, your hand keeping up with what you can’t reach.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve’s jaw goes slack, eyelids growing too heavy to keep open at the heat of your mouth enveloping him. His head pushes further into his chair while he fights to keep his hands from flying to the back of yours.

Scooting closer, you feel him spread his legs even more, and your hand that’s not wrapped around the base of his cock, slides down his thigh. The blunt ends of your nails dragging through the rough curls that cover it.

“That’s - that’s so - shit, you’re making me feel so fucking good.” He grunts, finally working up enough strength to pry his eyes open to get a look at what he’s dreamed of a million times alone in the shower. “Always so good to me baby.”

You moan at his words, the praise drowning out the dull throb in your knees from the hard floor, and your throat opens up just a little more, the tip of your nose a ghost against his thick happy trail.

“You like that?” The tone he uses is deep, like someone laced the honey it’s always had for you with cinnamon. “You like when I tell you how good you are?”

Hollowing out your cheeks, you suck even harder, the wetness between your legs only getting worse when he lets out a strangled groan. You slowly work up the length of his cock with tight lips, before releasing him with a loud ‘pop’. For a second Steve thinks he might add more to the shining mess that covers your face, spit still connecting your chin to his sensitive head. 

You drag your teeth over your swollen bottom lip, his dark eyes tracking the movement when it pops back into place, twitching in your hand that hasn’t stopped pumping him. He thinks he likes this better than your gloss. You nod in response with a smile and he can’t believe is a little shy. 

Leaning forward, he wipes your chin with his thumb before tracing where your teeth just were with the pad of it. His eyes darken even more when your mouth opens, strawberry lips wrapping around him with no hesitation.

Yeah, you’re going to kill him. 

“Fuck, look at you,” He pushes down on your tongue, watching the way your thighs press under your dress sucking on the digit with the same force. “I’m so lucky.”

You moan around him, the motions of your wrist getting faster, and the urge to taste him becomes unbearable. With a gentle scrap of your teeth you let go of his thumb, pushing up on your knees to beg for a kiss. The wheels of his chair clink against the hinges when he eagerly accepts your request, one of his hands finding the back of your neck pulling you closer to lick into your mouth without a second thought. 

Your teeth scrape together, tongues battling for dominance while the stubble that lines his jaw threatens to rub your skin raw, but you don’t care. The inside of your thighs start to get sticky and the large vein that runs up the side of his cock pulses against your palm with the need for your attention. It’s the only thing that can get you to pull away from his lips that won’t stop devouring yours.  

It’s with new determination that you take him back into the heat of his mouth, doing your best to take him deeper down your throat than before. He moans your name loud enough that you’re sure anyone in this part of the building would hear if they were actually in their offices. He lets a big hand find the back of your head this time, while both of yours find the tops of his thighs. 

Your cheeks hollow again while your tongue wraps around as much as you can get, more spit, more slick to bob in rhythm with the thrusts of his hips. The tip of him catches at the back of your throat, and the way it squeezes his head when your reflex hits makes his toes curl, fingers burying themselves in your hair to keep you there.

“Oh, that’s - that’s it- take the whole thing. Shit. You’re gonna make me cum baby. Just like that, don’t stop, don’t stop. Good girl, good girl.” 

Each snap of his hips gets as desperate as his babbling, like he’s completely forgotten he’s still at work. One of your hands leaves his thigh to cup his balls that have been screaming for attention since the moment you walked into his office in that dress. Rolling them in your palm is the final touch that makes his vision go white behind his eyes, body tensing and face going slack just like his jaw. 

“Baby, baby, baby.”

Twitching, he spills hot down the back of your throat and you try to swallow as much of it as you can before it dribbles down your chin, dripping onto your chest. His full weight falls back onto his chair, the wheels it’s on moving just enough to have him slide half soft from the warm velvet of your mouth. He tasted even better than you’d imagined, promising yourself you were going to do this again to him after dinner. 

Chest heaving, a breathy laugh escapes him, and the hand that was buried in your hair runs through his before his eyes open up back to their normal golden brown. His cheeks flush pink when he gets a look at the mess he made of you, and it only deepens when you collect the spend that found its way to the swell of your breasts with the pads of your fingers before sucking them clean.

“I think I’m gonna take a half day.”

[covetyou]

for one night only

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Frankie Morales x fat contortionist f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: Oral sex, face fucking 👀, fingering, addiction, minor mention of clowns (no descriptions, mentioned very briefly), drug use (not Frankie, minor mention), squirting, slightly subby Frankie. word count: 4.5k summary: Frankie Morales has a problem. Not the drink. Or the drugs. Frankie Morales has a problem saying no. One night only, one night only… In the morning this feeling will be gone It has no chance going on

A/N: I feel like one of those ao3 notes where the author is like "soz this took 4 years to update, my whole family died and then I had to move country 12 times, and now I live on the moon and have to send all updates down to earth via the postal sysem", but my dog was diagnosed with a heart murmur on Tuesday (on Catfish Day, no less!) and then on Wednesday I was cranked open and scraped out, because I have the luck of beign born with a cervix. Neither of those things are good conditions to write smut under, I've found out, least of all when it's also the hottest days of the year so far.

So, here we are, 2 days late, and I'm not asking for forgiveness or apologising, I just really like to complain and make lighthearted jokes over serious things to make myself feel better. happiest belated Catfish Day, pocket pals 💛

same reader character as in jester little bit more 👀 this story continues in fools just wanna have fun (Dieter x reader) and family friendly (Frankie x Reader [x Dieter])

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

From the moment Will proposed it three weeks ago, Frankie knew tonight was going to be a stupid idea. Still, here he was, walking into the fucking circus of all places, staring at a glowing sign that was taunting him with the words he'd told himself every time he'd ever gave in to the temptation of booze or coke.

For one night only.

Seven months of sobriety didn't make that temptation go away, and even though this was his longest stint clean in some time, today was not the day to be pushing himself. Work had exhausted him and tested his patience to the extreme, and now he was spending his one free evening in a place that was more overwhelming than it could ever be enjoyable.

It's not that his friends weren't helping, either. They were trying, just like Frankie was trying to enjoy himself, hoping each time they asked him if he was doing okay that it would suddenly be true. But the smell of beer and the press of warm bodies against his as they shuffled into the Big Top made him feel less and less in control as time went on.

It didn't get better from there.

In the Big Top, somewhere between the chaos and the elegance, and back to chaos again, he'd lost himself in it all - that was until he was distracted by a distinct smell brought into the big top by a troupe of clowns that he knew would lead him nowhere good.

That nowhere good turned out to be a shitty looking trailer half covered by a tarp, with "Bravo"scrawled on the door in sharpie. If you'd asked him how he got here, he wouldn't exactly know - he just knew it involved hearing a name, lying to his friends about needing the bathroom, and sneaking away while they were distracted by a sideshow game he had no interest in.

He knew the road he was heading down. That for one night only sign burning in his mind as he stood there, fighting a war inside his own head.

Then, like an angel covered in soft furnishings, you'd turned up, dumping blankets with an oomph onto a cart behind him, wearing what looked to be nothing more than a t-shirt and sandals as you turned to look at him, took one look at the twitching in his hand and the hesitation in his body before you told him he didn't want what was on the other side of that door.

And Frankie knew you were right.

You were the most right thing he'd seen all day. So, when you beckoned him, he obeyed, following behind you like a starving puppy as you led the way through the mess of trailers, to what must have been your own.

He'd watched as you climbed the steps ahead of him, sequinned ass on display with each step upwards, watching it sway and jiggle as you ascended, only pulling his eyes away when you turned and looked down on him with a knowing look.

That's how he found himself here. Surrounded by soft things and delicate lighting. Away from one kind of temptation but sat right in front of another, watching as you grip the edge of your t-shirt, pulling it high enough that he can see a strip of your belly as you gesture back to those impossibly short shorts.

"Do you mind if I...?"

Frankie nods, waving his hand and stuttering over too many words as he tries, and fails, to be unaffected by you and what he can only imagine you'd feel like beneath his hands.

"No, sure, fine. Uh. Go ahead."

You laugh as you start to undress, letting your t-shirt fall to cover you once more. He watches you peel those too tight shorts down your legs, grunting with the effort as they roll and pinch against your thighs. Your skin bulges and ripples as they roll down your legs, and Frankie can think of nothing but sinking his itching fingers into your soft skin and anchoring them there as he dives head first into the place hidden just beyond the hem of your shirt.

"You made the right choice, y'know. I'm much more interesting than what Bravo the Clown has to offer," you say with a wink, catching him watching you just as your shorts pool at your feet and you step out of them. "He might have his head up his ass, but his head can't touch his ass like mine can. Tea?"

With a nod, Frankie watches as you move to the kitchen - a small counter with a water kettle and some mugs, and not much else - before you call back to him.

"You can get comfortable too, if you want."

And so he does, pulling off his hat first, before unbuckling his belt and tugging it from his pants with a sigh.

When you come back, you hand him a mug, which he accepts with a thank you before gripping the burning ceramic hard in his hand, rubbing his other along the rough fabric of his jeans.

"You need a distraction," you say, with a nod to the mug burning his palm. "What do you usually do when... y'know?"

"Keep busy, usually," Frankie says, looking down at his hand, flexing it until the sting subsides.

"Let's find you something to focus on then. An activity. Something good."

Frankie's mind immediately goes where he knows it shouldn't. You'd seen him struggle, and you'd helped him, the least he could do was keep it in his pants and his mind out of the gutter.

But then, when you sit down opposite him, crossing your legs as you take a sip of your own tea, all he can see is the gusset of your panties, and he knows he's ruined. He doesn't even try to hide his cock as it hardens in his jeans each moment he spends looking at you, so casual and relaxed in this space you brought him to.

You know, of course. If he was paying even a bit of attention to what your own eyes were doing, he'd see that you're well aware of the affect you're having on him. Since he looked up at you from the steps, part of you had been working out how you'd get him beneath you again, and now it was looking like all you'd need to do was snap your fingers and all your dreams would come true.

Some might say that would be manipulative. The man needed a calm place to be for a little while, and you were happy to provide it, no payment necessary. But, with the way he was looking at you, pleading with those beautiful brown eyes - combined with the shockwaves sent to your cunt every time his voice rumbled from his chest - it was clear you were both fighting a losing battle against something much better to give in to than whatever quick fix Dieter could rustle up.

A blaring ring of a phone pulls you both out of your thoughts, and he scrambles for his pocket, pulling out a battered looking phone with a crack across the screen and pressing it to his ear.

"Hey, man," he says into the phone, not meeting your eye.

Here, in the quiet oasis of your trailer, with nothing but the distant tinkle of music to disturb the peace, you can hear every word from the other end of the line clear as day.

"Fish, where the hell are you?"

And now, maybe it is manipulative of you to stretch to put your mug down on the counter, drawing his eyes back to you.

"Uh, just had to get away."

When your fingers slowly drag up your thighs, tugging the hem of your shirt upwards and over your panties, you don't miss the way his throat bobs in a heavy swallow, his eyes going glassy as he tries to focus on the voice practically screaming down the line over the noise of carnival music and chattering crowds.

"You back at the van?"

And maybe the leg you put on the coffee table is a little unnecessary, but it works. Soon his eyes are drawn down to between your thighs, and the small scrap of fabric covering you that he'd been trying so desperately not to look at.

"No, no. I had to -" you draw your shirt a little higher, the soft pooch of your belly and the waistband of your panties now on show for him. "- mierda. Just some place quiet. It's chaos out there."

"We can leave, hermano. I told you, you never have to force yourself through this shit. You want out, we're out."

Your hands continue up, and up, pulling your shirt with them and then, just when your breasts threaten to spill out of the bottom of it, you let go, stretching your arms high above your head with a smile.

"Hello? Fish? Catfish? You're worrying me, man. Where are you?"

Raising your eyebrow, with one last ace up your sleeve, you let your thigh fall to the side, and watch the entire house of cards come falling down.

"I gotta go."

"Fra -"

"I'll text you."

The line goes dead, and Frankie quickly taps out a message in hopes to keep Santi quiet for at least a little while. When his phone is face down on the seat beside him, he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding and rubs his hands on his rough jeans once more.

"So, Fish," you start, drawing his attention back to you, where you sit tracking your fingertips slowly up and down yourself. "Think of anything fun we could do?"

With a sly smile, biting your lip, you shuffle your hips forward. No sooner are the tips of your fingers dipping below the elastic of your panties, and he's up, out of his seat.

And straight on the floor in front of you, having taken one big step over the coffee table to get to you before wedging himself between your spread legs. And fuck does he want to touch - dive right in and feast - but instead he sits back on his haunches, staring up at you from his position on his knees, looking absolutely wrecked.

"That what you want, pretty boy?" you say, as he wipes one hand across his chin, the other balling into a fist in his lap.

He's nervous. Impulsive, sure, but hesitant. So, you reach for his hand before it falls to join his other in his lap, and press it into the soft meat of your thigh, squeezing down, before releasing and letting him take the reins.

His exploration is tentative, at first. Soft sweeps of his hand from your knee to your hip, and back again. Watching up at you as you relax down into the cushions around you, sighing and smiling each time his hands trace a new patch of you and light it on fire.

When his other hand joins the first, taking its place on your other thigh, you whisper breathy words of encouragement to him - words that sound so loud in his ears but he knows are barely audible above the sound of his own heavy breathing.

That's all he needs to start pressing his mouth to your bare skin. Kisses to your inner knee, small nibbles to the swell of your thigh. Each and every press of his mouth is met with a giggle - his facial hair tickling your delicate skin.

"I see he called you Catfish," you say through another giggle as his kisses move higher, following the trail of his hands.

"Yeah?" he says, his breath ghosting your thigh, smiling as you giggle again. And fuck, even if he never gets any higher than this, no closer to salvation than right here, the bulge of your thighs in his grip, this would be distraction enough to fight through fifty more bad days.

"It's the whiskers, isn't it?" you ask, laughing again when he scratches his beard lightly on your inner thigh.

But then, he's face-to-face with the tiny scrap of fabric covering you - so much smaller than he expected when he was sat staring from the other side of your trailer - looking up at you now that you're quiet, giggles subsided but one brewing just beneath the surface.

"Or," you start, as you reach down for his face, dragging your thumb across the swell of his plush bottom lip. "Or it's because you're a bottom feeder. Catfish by name, catfish by nature."

A soft kiss to your cunt over your panties comes before you even finish your taunt, and you find yourself groaning out his bizarre name not once, but twice as he cuts you off each time. Not that you mind, of course, and he doesn't seem to either. Each moan you make makes him press deeper and deeper kisses to you, until he's dragging his mouth up and down the seam of your clothed pussy, desperately trying to taste you.

Your cunt, as desperate to get to him as he is to her, throbs, trickling slick as he mouths at you, teasing your clit with nudges of his nose. And then he's licking you - not where you want him, but near enough, as he licks a soft stripe up one side of your cunt then the other, tasting your skin where your panties don't quite cover.

What you really want is to tear your underwear off and let him devour you, but you don't. That would mean pushing him away, and he's far too lost in it for you to even want to attempt it. So, instead, you reach down and yank the thin fabric to the side just as he takes another soft bite of your thigh, and delight in his gasp when he takes his first proper look at you.

"Oh, shit."

Whatever restraint he was showing before flies right out of the window when he can finally see your pussy. He dives in, tonguing your entrance, tasting every drop of arousal he's pulled from you since he started his teasing. Within a few licks, you've slouched further down the bench, spreading your thighs wider as his hands wrap around them and pin you down.

You feel better than he could imagine. Your thighs are thick and plush - the fat of them easily gripped and kneaded in his palms as he messily eats you, pressing his tongue into your hole only to feel you clench around him.

It doesn't get any less messy, or more refined, as he laps at you. It's like he's ravenous, and maybe he is, but it's too much, too fast, too soon, and not enough all at once.

"Slow," you gasp, rocking your hips, hoping he'll get the picture. And, to his credit, he does. He pulls back, looking between your furrowed brows and the wet mess he's licked over your cunt, and instead takes a slow swipe from your hole to your clit.

"That's it," you moan as his tongue teases around you. He avoids your sensitive nub for a few strokes, choosing instead to circle it, to tease you. But then his broad circles swirl tighter and tighter until you're groaning out into the tiny space. "Right there. You've got it. Oh, fuck."

Frankie moans right back. He's like a rock in his own pants, so hard it's bordering on painful, but he can't bring himself to pull a hand away from you to adjust himself. Instead, he uses his finger tips to pry you open a little, spreading your slit wide for him to lick into before focussing back on your clit and slipping a finger easily inside you.

This is how you're going to come. Onto this beautiful mans tongue, his fingers buried inside you, your t-shirt rucked up higher and higher by your own hands, fingers pinching your own nipples, head thrown back.

"Fuck, so close."

He groans, nodding into your cunt, his tongue swiping up and down on your clit with each bob of his head. And he looks beautiful doing it - eyes screwed shut as he moans and whines into your pussy, wanting nothing more than to please you, planting a delicious seed in your mind as he gets more and more desperate to make you come.

"Give me another finger, pretty boy," you ask, biting back a good boy when he slips a second thick digit into your fluttering pussy.

Reaching down, you stroke his face, pulling his attention up to you as you thread your fingers through his messy hair while he laps and suckles away at your clit, fingers pumping shallowly inside you.

"You want me to use that pretty mouth?" you ask, and the groan he gives you in return almost sets you off then and there.

"Oh fuck, that's good. That's good," you pant, taking a deep breath to try to hold back your rapidly approaching orgasm. "Stick out that tongue for me, pretty boy."

Frankie, ever the obedient little thing, sticks out his tongue for you, groaning when you slip a finger across the wet muscle and into his mouth, letting him suck on it for a little before swiping it across your own clit.

"Keep it out for me."

"Uh-huh."

You tug him closer, scratching gently at his scalp when his tongue slides against your pussy, before holding him in place.

"That's it. Keep it out. You're going to make me come, pretty boy. Keep those fingers right there too. Don't you dare take them out."

The look in his eyes tells you everything you need to know right then. This is exactly what he needed, the perfect antidote to his seemingly inevitable downward spiral. He looks entirely fucked out - face a mess, lips swollen, facial hair drenched in saliva and your own slick. Then, with a small nod of his head, you start to move, rocking gently against his face at first, before you pick up the pace.

You're not sure you've felt anything better. His fingers are deep and he's curling them inside you over and over, pressing against a spongy spot you're all too familiar with. You're grinding your clit against his tongue - using his whole face to get yourself off, alternating between the smooth slick swipe of his tongue before the rough scratch of his facial hair briefly catches your clit, and back, over and over. It's driving you insane. You're driving yourself insane, but you can't - won't - stop. How could you when he's panting, practically sobbing into your pussy, as you use him.

Now, you really are going to come. You rock against his face more rapidly, movements more precise now, fucking yourself onto his fingers and grinding your clit into his tongue, fingers tugging and pulling at his hair.

Then, your back is arching off the bench, a loud, keening groan leaving you, your fingers twitching and releasing from his hair, your hips stuttering as it all gets too much. Anyone else, any other day, and this would have spelled a ruined orgasm for you and a terrible nights sleep. But Frankie doesn't let up. Your fingers release him and he continues, nodding his own face against you exactly as you liked it, fingers curling, and curling, and curling so wetly inside you you're sure you're going to burst.

Until you do. You convulse there right on the bench, clit twitching against Frankie's tongue as you gush against his fingers, his chin, coming so hard you're sure you've left the atmosphere.

It's only when your voice finally comes back to you, your silent orgasm all but wrung out of you, that you tell him to stop - practically beg him - and collapse back into the cushion, still twitching.

Frankie sits between your legs, pressing feather light kisses to your mound, as you come down. He looks so peaceful there, between your thick thighs, soothing himself with your body while he ignores his own aching cock.

"What's your real name, pretty boy?" you ask with a lazy smile, swiping your thumb across his chin and the wetness still glistening there.

"Francisco. Frankie. It's Frankie," he mumbles into your leg, finally shifting to alleviate some of the strain in his jeans.

"Come up here and kiss me, Frankie."

On aching knees, Frankie pulls himself up. He moves to hover over you, to hold himself off of you in case he gets carried away, but you pull him down, pressing your mouth to his and tasting yourself on his tongue.

"Mhm. You want a hand with that, Frankie?" you ask, feeling the solid length now pushing into your thigh through his jeans.

"Wanna fuck you," he gasps into your mouth, rutting and grinding forward as you scrape blunt nails up his back.

And it makes you freeze. Frankie, in that moment, is certain he's fucked up. That's not what this is.

But then he hears you curse softly under your breath, looking over to a cabinet as you try to wrack your brain for when you last restocked your stash of condoms. Too fucking long ago, is the only answer that comes to mind, and you're certain you don't have any.

"I don't have any fucking condoms - goddamnit," you say with a pained sigh, trying to stop tears of frustration pricking in your eyes. You want it too. If the bulge in his pants is anything to go by, you'd have the time of your life riding him straight through till morning.

"But we can do something else?" you say, hopeful that he doesn't want to go just yet as you reach down and start stroking him over his pants. "I think I owe you that much."

Fuck does it feel good, having your hand stroke him. He wants nothing more than to say yes - not to cash in on what he's owed, but because you feel so damn good. Still, he knows it wouldn't be enough. He'd had enough tragic experiences and fumbles in the past few months that he knew the only way he was getting off was from his own hand or by fucking hard into something soft and wet, or he wasn't coming at all.

"No," he says softly, kissing you again and shifting his hips back from your grip. "No, it's okay. And, I'm not - shit - don't feel guilty, I'm not trying to do that, I'm just - it's just - uh - fuck - it's difficult. For me to, uh..."

You lay a comforting hand on his side as he trails off. "It's okay."

If your own shame had ever taught you anything, you know he's about to apologise for something that doesn't need an apology.

"Can I show you something cool, Frankie?" you say instead, cutting him off before he could let the shame eat at him.

Frankie nods, and lets you gently push him back and off the bench seat you're both awkwardly lying on.

Hauling yourself up, you reach for something under the bench closest to the end of your trailer, and pull, throwing all your weight back until the bench is shifting forward and a hidden piece of the puzzle is pulling up and out, where you can push it down onto the coffee table.

You climb onto it then - the pillows and blankets making so much sense now that he sees this is your bed - and pull a cord on the ceiling, letting it rattle and shift until there's a soft clunk.

"Come here."

Frankie follows, wary of the stability of the whole thing only for a second, climbing up behind you as you lay down. Sitting beside you, he follows your eyes up and up until they reach the ceiling.

Only, there isn't one. Instead, what he's faced with is a window to the endless sky, lit with streaks of light bouncing off of clouds, turning them a rainbow of colors as they shift and sway.

"This is what I do when everything feels too much," you say, looking straight up into the night sky. Frankie lies beside you then, looking up into the abyss alongside you in that tiny space.

"I lie here for long enough that all the big and overwhelming things feel small again. Something about looking out into the universe really puts stuff into perspective, y'know?"

"I think I do," he says with a smile, just as your hand finds his arm.

You lie there together for a little while. Talking a little, but mostly just looking out into the sky, occasionally remarking on the shapes of the circus lights beaming into the heavens.

"Fuck," You say suddenly, and Frankie turns to see you pressing your hands into your eyes, blocking any view of the sky above as you lie together in your trailer. "Fuck."

"You okay?" he says, worried that he's over stepped his mark, stayed too long and made a weird thing weirder just by sticking around.

But then you're pouncing on him, pushing him back into your bed, and latching onto his mouth in a feverish kiss. It's all you can do to not rub your bare cunt on his jeans in desperation for more, because that's just it. You want more, condoms be damned.

"What if," you say between kisses, "I could get condoms - what if - I could grab some right now - do you - do you wanna...?"

Frankie thinks it's the most obvious thing in the world - he is, after all, still rock solid in his pants. No amount of staring at the night sky seems to be making it go away. In fact, he's just got harder and harder since laying down with you and having your hands dance delicate patterns onto his bare arms.

His hands find your ass, pulling you further into him, dragging your leg over his own and your cunt along his thigh, making you grind down into him and moan into his mouth. He doesn't exactly have words for how much he wants it, just that he knows he's as desperate for it as he was to be buried face first between your thighs. So, he groans back, your hand finding a perfect spot on the crotch of his jeans, rubbing and kneading the solid lump of his cock through the denim.

"S'that a yes?" you mumble, and as you pull away, staring into the wrecked glazed eyes of one another, you both laugh, catching each others mouths in another hurried kiss.

"It's a hell fucking yes, hermosa."

At that, you dart up. Or you try to, at least. It's more of an awkward roll and a flop as you try to pull your leg from Frankie without causing any damage, before you crawl off the end of the bed and grab for your shirt and those tiny panties again - wherever the fuck they are. Balance should be your thing, but right now as you're frantically shoving clothes on, anyone would think you didn't do this for a living.

"Wait here," you pant, hopping into your shoes. "I will be right back."

And as you leave the trailer, the door slamming behind you as you practically run away into the night, Frankie thinks of how lucky he is to have found salvation in a place like this - a soft little oasis amidst so much chaos.

this story continues in fools just wanna have fun (Dieter x reader) and family friendly (Frankie x Reader [x Dieter])

tags: @beefrobeefcal @schnarfer @for-a-longlongtime

[ccastellans]

love letters.

luke castellan x gn!reader

SUMMARY: luke castellan decides to give you a love letter during a difficult day.

AUTHORS NOTE: no usage of y/n (just “reader” insert), this is very unedited, i haven’t written in a few months so don’t judge me 😭😭

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it was an incredibly hot day in camp half blood, and of course they chose strawberry picking as the activity of the day.

the scorching heat was already keeping you on edge, but it just so happens that nothing seemed to be working in your favor today.

you had accidentally dropped your bucket and spilled all of the strawberries you had managed to pick so far. and to top it all off, some of the other campers were being particularly pushy and rude, making it impossible to simply relax and enjoy the activity.

as the strawberry picking went on, your frustration and short temper only grew, and you began to feel like you were losing control. your fingers began to fumble as you were desperately trying to pick this one tough strawberry that just wouldn’t come off the green vine.

suddenly, you feel a soft tap on your back. you jump from the sudden contact, and quickly turn around defensively. although, your stance and gaze soften when you see that it’s just luke castellan.

the curly, brown haired boy silently greets you with his welcoming grin, and hands you a little folded up paper before running off to continue his counsellor duties. you already feel a little lighter just from the small interaction you had with the hermes cabin counsellor.

you focus on the folded up paper that he has handed to you. as curiosity takes over, you begin to unravel the paper.

when you finish unfolding the paper, you’re greeted with a lined sheet of paper, covered in words. you can feel a pair of eyes burning a hole into the back of your head as you stare at the lined paper. you acknowledge the little doodles littered around the page. little red hearts, smiley faces, and even some messy ones that you’re unable to decipher. the letter reads;

“ to reader,

hey there! :) it seems like you’ve been having a pretty rough day, and i just wanted to let you know that you're doing great! <3 dont let the other campers get to you, and don't focus on the strawberries you've lost. i love you so so much!! you always bring a smile to my face and make my heart feel so full of joy, so i hope this letter can make you feel that way too.

with all my heart,

luke castellan. :) “

your heart flutters as you process all of the kind words luke wrote to you. you cant help it when your eyes search for luke amongst the field of strawberries. it’s almost as if the two of you were thinking the same thing, because as your eyes find his; his eyes are already trained on you. and of course he’s wearing that adorable smile of his.

you cant help but grin at the boy, and silently mouth the words “thank you” , hoping he can read your lips. luke just nods back at you, as the grin on his face grew impossibly larger.

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all rights reserved. no part of my writing may be reproduced as this account on tumblr is the only place i post my writing.