#im really slowing down huh

[valensolo12]

PoE journal part... 5? where i was forced to face the inevitable challenge of learning how to draw dragons (previous entries here)

entering spoilers territory maybe!

I loooved speaking to the gods and reading those dream-like encounters with them, probably one of my favorite parts of the game so far.

also the adra dragon fight? big fan of her killing everyone in the party in one hit! what the hell

[puppppppppy]

oooh wait so the plot hole of “why doesnt a spirit medium just channel the victims spirit” is literally bc the DL-6 spirit channeling cant be repeated huh

[kil9]

why did the last windows update seem to completely fuck half my programs

[rafeandonlyrafe]

whatever you want

words: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, ab riding, tit fucking, semi public sex, established relationship, cumming in mouth, mentions of future and past sex, lots of talk about rafes muscles, reader is kinda described as having big (or at least decent sized) breasts, lots of banter can these bitches just shut up and fuck oh my goddddd

“again.” you call, almost sounding drunk despite being completely sober.

rafe sighs, rolling his eyes, but the side of his lip quirks up, unable to hide how much he likes your fascination.

rafe flexes again, his arms bulging and pecs tightening. you reach out, smoothing your hands over the hard muscles.

“you're so strong.” you coo, sat on rafes lap despite the hot temperature of the day, which resulted in rafe pulling his shirt off.

"you're acting like you've never seen me shirtless before.” rafe says with a chuckle.

“shh, let me appreciate you.” you shake your head. sure, you've seen him shirtless plenty of times but rafe was bulking up for summer and it caused all his muscles to be deliciously defined.

“alright, whatever.” rafe flexes again, not going to argue too much when he has your hands obsessively touching every part of his body.

your hands move down to his stomach, fingers running over his abs. “if you let me ride your abs, i’d let you do whatever you want to me.”

“you-” rafe places his hands on his hips, sitting up straighter. “you want to ride my abs?”

“yeah.” you nod, quirking your head to the side. “you know, like rub my pussy against them.”

“shit, do it right now.” rafe looks down at your short shorts, barely covering more than your underwear does.

“yes!” you squeal out, hopping up and tugging your bottoms and panties off, not caring that you’re in the backyard and anyone could theoretically come by. “lay back.” you instruct.

rafe lays on the couch, smiling up at you as you climb on top of him. “you��ll have to flex for me as im doing this.” you inform rafe, placing your pussy on his abdomen. “especially your pecs.” you poke his chest.

“you’re such a slut for my body.” rafe chuckles, hands coming to your hips, pushing you further down, feeling your wetness as your thighs spread even more open.

“i can’t help that you’re so sexy.” you shrug, hips starting to move back and forth in a slow rock, carefully building up the pace, wanting to enjoy being sat on his stomach.

you lean forward, placing your hands on his chest for stability, pressing your clit further against his muscles. rafe flexes his muscles and they harden underneath you.

“rafe!” you squeal. 

“i guess you like that, huh?” rafes hands squeeze at your hips and lift up, placing you harder back down on his stomach. “oh, you like that too.” he smiles as he bounces you again and you moan out.

“i really like that.” you hum, eyes struggling to stay open with the pleasure, but you want to keep your eyes on rafe beneath you. its rare he lets you take over like this.

you moan as you both bounce, using your knees to go up and down while rafe assists so you don’t get burnt out. 

you pull your top off, revealing the bikini top you’re wearing underneath, ready to go swimming whenever you’re done playing with rafe, needing to get in the water on this sweltering day.

“jesus, your tits are perfect.” rafe smiles as he watches your chest bouncing, sitting up to rub his face in between your pushed together breasts, the bikini top holding them tight together.

“not as perfect as yours.” you giggle, hands squeezing at his chest, palms over his nipples.

“don’t call them tits.” rafe rolls his eyes as he lays back, head against the cushion.

“well, whatever you wanna call them, i fucking love your muscles. your pecs-” you squeeze your hands again, digging into his soft flesh until rafe flexes and they harden. “your biceps-” you move your hands, and rafe flexes again, his muscles bulging. “your abs.” this time you press your pussy down, rubbing against the contours and ridges.

“you’re lucky that you offered to let me do whatever i want to you otherwise i wouldn’t have agreed to this.” rafe smirks.

“oh yeah?” you raise an eyebrow. “what are you gonna do to me?” there’s truly nothing rafe could do to your body that wouldn’t bring you pleasure, you glow just under his attention alone.

“fuck your tits.” rafe smirks, eyes moving down from your face to your chest. “as soon as your done, right here for anyone to see.”

“damn, you could do anything and you don’t want to fuck my asshole or tie me up?” you laugh, expecting something more from rafe.

“you’d let me do all that whenever anyways.” rafe pushes your hips down, grinding you against him. you moan and lean forward, your hands coming back to rafes chest. 

“keep doing that.” you whimper, eyes sliding closed as your mouth drops open, moans filling the air and being carried away by the wind. 

rafe keeps moving, the veins in his forearm flexing as your wetness spreads over his abs, coating them in your slick, allowing your pussy to drag even easier.

“im-im close.” you warn, swallowing thickly.

rafe grunts and increases his hold, tightening his grip on your hips so you can’t slip loose, grinding you down as he flexes his abs, the hardness rubbing against your clit making you moan out, body falling forward as you cum hard, shaking as rafe lets up on you, hands loosening and moving to rub your back.

“fuck.” you whine, snuggling into his chest, letting your hips drop down, feeling rafes hardness pressing against your stomach.

rafe starts to move as you cry out, not ready to do anything more than close your eyes and feel his warmth against your cheek.

“come on, brat.” rafe chuckles. “i wanna fuck your tits while you’re all spaced out from your orgasm. you know i love you like this.” 

you hum a sound thats close enough to agreement that rafe flips you so you’re underneath him, laying on your back on the couch as he stands.

“you’re so gorgeous like this.” rafe says as he undoes his belt buckle, then pushing his pants and underwear down, his hard cock popping up.

“wanna taste.” you whine, eyes still droopy.

“nope.” rafe shakes his head. “we made a deal. i know you like to taste me, but im fucking your tits. take your top off.”

rafe pulls at the strings of your bikini, flinging it away to reveal your pink nipples to the sunlight.

“fine, but will you at least cum a little in my mouth?” you pout as rafe kneels on either side of you, glad that the outdoor couch is big enough for all of these activities.

“sure, baby.” rafe chuckles, just another way of showing how desperate you are for him.

rafes hands land on your tits, palms rubbing on your nipples, feeling them harden against his palms, not unlike when he was flexing his muscles for you earlier.

rafes hands move to the sides of your breasts, pushing them together. “god, you look so fuckable right now.”

“yeah? gonna fuck me later then? maybe out on the boat hm? after you’re done with my tits?”

“the boat, the bed, the counter, the shower, im gonna have you everywhere.” rafe bends down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose.

you smile up at him, a lazy, tired smile. rafe angles his hips down, the head of his cock pushing against the underside of your tits before slipping in between them.

“oh!” your eyebrows raise, surprised at the unusual feeling, but certainly not disliking it as he begins to move back and forth.

“shit.” rafe grunts. “fuck.”

you swat rafes hands away, pressing your tits together for him. rafe leans forward, hands landing on either side of your neck, his face contorted in pleasure directly over yours.

you look down, eyes watching the head of rafes cock appearing and disappearing between your breasts.

“this is- this is fucking good.” rafe grunts, moving faster. “im- im not gonna last very long.”

you stick your tongue out, rafes cock just long enough to hit it with the tip of his cock as he thrusts. you relish the taste, pulling your tongue back into your mouth every couple thrusts to spread the taste.

“thats it, baby.” rafe moans, one hand moving to your mouth, two fingers pulling at the side of your lip, spreading your mouth wider.

you moan out, tongue open and ready for his cum. rafe fucks forward as fast as he can, just like he does your pussy when you spread your legs wide for him.

“cumming.” rafe manages to say as he surges forward, burying his cock in your mouth as his hand wraps around his length, stroking up and down as he reaches his high, cum spurting into your mouth as you happily swallow.

rafe moans slowly die out and become quieter until hes pulling out of your mouth. “get up my legs are about to give out.” he says quickly, and you barely slide off the couch before he collapses.

you giggle and climb on top of him, pressing kisses to his cheek as his chest heaves up and down.

“im guessing you liked that.” you rub your thumb over his bottom lip.

“yeah.” rafe smiles, his eyes sliding shut.

“so, boat ride now?”

“jesus, woman give me a second.” rafe laughs, pulling you into a gentle kiss.

[orcelito]

Ok I'm to the point of listening to iwatex's OST on spotify. I think this is terminal

[nanaslutt]

<3toji helping reader who has a hard time finishing

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

“stop fuckin holding your breath.” toji scolds, narrowing his eyes at you from between your thighs. he’s been eating you out for twenty minutes now and not once has slowed down. he’s wasn’t deterred when you told him you’re a bit slow to… finish, but you can’t help but feel bad you’re taking so long. anytime you feel yourself about to crash, you hold your breath and get too excited, and the orgasm fizzles away.

“i’m sorry i-“

toji shuts you up by slapping your cunt with an open palm. you gasp, eyes wide as you stare at him between your thighs. “get out of your head and let me make you cum.”

toji kisses your clit and starts moving his fingers inside you again, slowly thrusting in and out, turning your brain to mush. “i…” your lips part, “i feel bad, i feel like im taking too long.”

toji groans dramatically, the sound making the muscles in your legs bunch when it stimulates your clit. “shut up, i’m here to help you with that so if you’d get out of your fucking head,” he emphasizes the word, “and focus on how good your body feels, how good this feels-.” he sucks your clit into his mouth, lashing at it with his tongue making you gasp before he pulls back. “then you’d be able to cum, but you can’t do that if you think ur taking too long.”

“you really don’t mind?”

toji almost smiles then, watching your reaction when he curls his fingers upwards, rubbing your sweet spot. he’s smiles when your eyes roll back in your head. “does it look like i mind? huh? am i eating your pussy like i fucking mind how long you take to cum?”

you shake your head, and he sticks his tongue out while smiling, toying your clit with the tip of his tongue. “then shut.” lick “up.”

his lips are back on you then, sucking the little bundle of nerves into his mouth. his tongue runs up and down your pussy, alternating between toying around where his fingers are stuffed inside you and lavishing your clit.

you feel the warmth tingle the back of ur spine, and gasp. tojis words follow ur reaction, mumbled against you like he could barely stand to pull away. “hold ur breath and i’ll kill you.”

ur gasping, whining, gripping his hair so hard he’s grunting and you would feel bad about it if your orgasm wasn’t so fucking close.

your legs start to shake and toji starts making desperate sounds against you, rutting his hips into the bed while eyeing you like the determined man he is.

then- ur falling off that ledge. blinding heat coarse thought ur veins, shaking ur body uncontrollably, and ur helpless to the pleasure as toji continues eating u out like a man starved, grunting while lapping up the release he earned.

you wince when he sucks ur over sensitive clit way too hard one last time before pulling away. his mouth and chin is covered in your release, his lips are swollen and his pupils are blown, but he has a purely satisfied expression on his handsome face. “see how easy that was?”

youre still reeling from the fact anyone actually made u came that you don’t even respond. you just throb when toji pulls out his fingers and sucks your release from them. he pops them out of his mouth with a loud sound. “worth every fucking second too. think you can give me another one?”

[thinkinonsense]

PAST LIFE⋆

dofp!logan howlett x mutant fem!reader

cw:fingering, cursing, dirty talk, mentions of motherhood, fluff

masterlist

logan should've known when he accepted the mission to come go back in time to stop the sentinels that you would still be here.

"is there an issue here, hank?"

the sound of your voice made logan's heart flutter. you were barely peaking out from behind the door but logan could see you just fine. he couldn't stop staring.

"no, everything's fine." hank assured you. just as you turned to return to charles's office, you heard the door burst open. this handsome stranger hits hank right in the nose before continuing up the stairs to you.

logan had to take you in for a second. his beautiful future wife stood in front of him and had absolutely no clue that they were married because she was only twenty-five years old.

had you always been this gorgeous? was that even fair? all of these were questions that floated around in his mind.

"who are you and what do you want?" you asked as he reached out to touch you.

"so you've always been this beautiful, huh, princess?" he purred, tucking away a piece of your hair behind your ear.

sure, he was attractive in his brown leather jacket and sunglasses but this man looked in his mid-forties. logan was too busy staring down at your frilly yellow babydoll dress to notice where you were looking at him. his left hand; more specifically the gold band on his ring finger.

"i don't mess with married men." you glare at him. he can't help but chuckle darkly down at your innocence.

"oh, my wife wouldn't mind."

god, logan felt like such a pervert for coming on to you but he couldn't help it. your ethereal beauty was unreal. not that you have aged much since the present day, as you two have the slow aging processes in common. older hank would always tell logan that he should be lucky that you agreed to date him because there were plenty of people who would love to take his place. sure, logan believed him but now, he really understood what hank meant.

"where's charles at, sweetheart?" logan asks, inhaling your floral sent.

before you can respond, charles comes barreling down the stairs drunkenly calling after you.

"where've you been?" he asked you then turned to logan. "who the hell are you?"

this should be good.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

"how do we know that you're actually from the future?" you asked, sitting atop charles desks, swinging your legs. hank and charles stood outside in the hallway discussing whether or not to trust logan.

"you've always been this stubborn?" logan says under his breath, rolling his eyes.

"how do we even know each other in the future?" you finally asked.

for the past hour, this man has tried to sell this absurd story about how future charles and magneto sent him here together to save mutants from sentinels. so far he's managed to convince charles but hank and you were still on the fence.

"we're married, sweetheart." logan smirks wickedly.

there was absolutely no way that you two were married. this man is grumpy, mean-looking, and wears dark brown leather. you are an academic scholar who adores pastels and helping other mutants. he had to have you mistaken.

you squint up at him and laugh, "we are married?"

logan nods, walking over to you until he's standing between your legs.

"tell me something only i would know then."

"your favorite ice cream flavor is strawberry, you hate the cold and winter, anytime you drink coffee you get nightmares, your favorite color is green, but your favorite shade is the color my eyes get when i look at you." logan could see the way your eyes widen, slowly starting to believe him more and more. he couldn't help but feel cocky. "would you like me to continue?"

"im not sure... think you're gonna have to prove it. another way." you challenge him. logan's hand trails up your thigh, playing with the soft yellow material.

"c'mon sweetheart, this is too easy." he mutters against your neck, placing soft kisses and nibbling on the skin.

logan knew you like the back of his hand. he knew exactly what you liked and disliked. sometimes you would even tell him that he knew you better than you knew yourself.

"you like when i pull your bottom lip when we kiss. you blush every time i offer for you to sit on my face. one of your favorite ways to fuck is pressed up against a wall or bent over a table..." logan could go on and on.

"we do that...?" you whisper embarrassed by this version of yourself, trying to avoid his burning gaze.

"oh, all the time. sometimes you pull me down on the floor when i come home, begging to ride me right then and there." logan says, once he captures your attention again. you chew on your bottom lip adorably.

a small whimper passes your lips before you remember that hank and charles aren't that far away from the room. one of your hands comes up to logan's chest, slightly pushing him back despite not wanting to.

"w-we should stop." you warn him. "they can hear us."

this was when logan knew that you hadn't discovered part of your mutation yet. he had already assumed that you hadn't but this confirmed it.

"need you to relax, princess," he says, moving higher up to your jaw. your body betrays everything your mouth says, eating out of the palm of his hand. "i promise once you relax, it'll feel like time has stopped."

logan's lips taunt yours; not quite giving you what you want. fed up, you overpower him and push his lips into yours. the only word floating around in your head was 'relax'.

carefully, logan lays you back on the desk. something about being held in the stranger's arms set you at ease; maybe he was your husband?

"you don't know this yet..." logan huffs. "but you can stop time."

you scoff, thinking that you caught him in a lie. "no, i can't."

"if you relax like i said, then you can." logan mutters against your collarbone.

one of his hands slides up your thigh while the other rubs circles on your hip bone. was this wrong of you? if he is telling the truth –and it seems like he is– then technically he is your husband and it's not wrong to mess around with your husband.

"open up for me, babydoll." logan mumbled against your collarbones, placing wet kisses and nibbling on the delicate skin.

your legs spread with ease as his callused fingers rub over your cotton panties. the soft material of your dress is bunched at your tummy as he tugs your panties off, pocketing them for himself. his thumb returns to rub your button.

"p-please..." you whimper, looking up at logan with bambi eyes. "need more."

"anything for you, princess." he groans, slipping two fingers inside of you as gently as he can. this earned a loud moan from you when he nudged that spot deep in your gummy walls with ease.

"see how well i know my wife?" logan gloats, pressing soft kisses to your lips but never letting you catch him. "you usually prefer it rougher than this but i'm not cruel."

"y-you can go... can go faster." you pant, never having anything quite his size yet.

"i don't want to hurt you, baby." he says in a condescending tone. "wanna know something 'bout the future?"

it was difficult but you managed to nod your head despite how clearly fucked out you were at this point.

"a couple weeks ago, you came home telling me how much you want to be a mom; how you've always wanted to be a mom." he pulls back to look at your pretty face, lust darkening your eyes and slick pouring out of you, practically dripping down his palm onto the desk. "so, every chance we get alone you've been begging for me to go raw inside of you."

logan loved how even as you're all spread out for him, you're still blushing at his filthy words.

"look at you, blushing while you soak my hand." he mocks with a smirk.

"i'm s-so close, please!" you beg so politely.

his thick fingers pick up the pace as you clench down on them; jaw dropped and head thrown back. logan's other hand supports your back while your cute painted blue nails dig into his wrist as your climax starts to wash over you.

"hey sweetheart, look out the window." he chuckles, moving your chin to stare hazily out the glass window.

you couldn't believe it. every car, bird, street light, everything was stopped. everything but you and logan.

"how did you know that i could...?"

"you can't always control it but when you calm your mind, it's easier for you to do it."

"does it always happen when we...?"

"when we have sex...?" logan chuckles as you hide yourself in his chest. you nod. "no. over time you've found ways to control it. sometimes if we need more time, you might manipulate it."

"future me sounds cool." you giggle, lifting up to look at him. "how do we meet?"

"i can't tell you that." he smiles.

"well, then where are you in this timeline? how can i meet you sooner?"

"i'm not a very good man during this time, baby. you'll meet me when the time is right."

"what if you don't want me then? how do you know we will still get together?"

logan looks down at your pouty lips, swiping his thumb across it.

"i'll always come back for you. no matter the timeline or where we are in life; i'll find you again."

"promise?"

"i promise you, sweetheart. don't worry that beautiful mind of yours." he assures, kissing the tear strolling down your cheek.

logan reaches down and kisses you tenderly, pulling you out of the time freeze. suddenly the door swings open on the two of you. thank god, logan had quick reflexes, pulling your dress back down to cover you.

charles calls your name and then asks, "what are you doing?"

"it's okay, he's my husband."

a loud laugh escapes logan at your lovey-dovey tone, almost making hank and charles eyes fall out of their heads. you couldn't wait to meet logan again in the future.

[rinneverse]

cw. boothill x f!reader drabble, riding (but really he’s the one in charge), piv penetration, cyborg dick, a hint of dacryphilia perhaps, this is seriously just some major brainrot im having please help, minors dni pls and ty :)

cold metal bites into the supple flesh of your hips.

it’s a stark contrast to the heat your body radiates, icy fingertips clutching you tightly as boothill guides you along his dick, sinfully dragging against the fluttering walls of your pussy.

“ridin’ me so well, cutie. you like being used like this, huh?” sharp teeth graze the sensitive skin of your throat before he laughs, deep and condescending. “i’ll make sure you’re satisfied. can’t have you doubtin’ me again, can we?”

you’re too fucked out to even answer. boothill’s strong hands force you to bounce on his ribbed metal cock, drawing whines and mindless babbles from your lips as you slump against him. your hands pull and tug at his silky hair while you plead, “hol’on, waaait, s’too much..!”

it’s honestly your fault that you’re even in this situation. you had teased boothill about his cyborg body—“you get a dick attachment with that robo-body or what?”—and now you’re paying the price.

“too much now?” boothill sneers, sharp teeth glinting in the low lights of the room as he looks at you. his red pupils drink in your debauched expression, the way sweat beads at your temple and drips down your face.

he suddenly slows, grinding his hips up in to yours as he drags a hand up the slope of your body, leaving a trail of icy nerves in its wake. he grips your face, squishing the fat of your cheeks. silvery tears of pleasure line your lashes, something boothill smugly takes note of. when a tear trickles down your cheek, he’s immediately leaning forward to lap it up with his tongue.

“thought you said i wouldn’t be able to keep up with the real thing. you so sure about that now?”

your attempt to shake your head is stopped only by the way he grips you. he leans in, nipping at your plush lower lip before he continues.

“i do love a challenge, though.” his voice is rough, tinged with heated desire as he grinds his dick further into you. “am i proving ya wrong, sweetheart?”

“yes,” you whimper, thighs trembling as he kisses you, long and deep. boothill moves his hand back down to your waist and takes up his earlier pace, using you almost like his own personal fucktoy.

“that’s a good girl,” he drawls. “let me take care of you, yeah?”

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!

[lovegasmic]

 IT HAS TO BE NOW ?

XIAO, SCARAMOUCHE, KAEYA + FEM!READER

mdni. semi public sx, exhibitionism, degradation ( scara, he's a little shit ) creampies, cockwarming ( kaeya )

to any other person walking around Wangshu Inn, the sight of Xiao with his arms wrapped around his lovely girlfriend at the top balcony of the inn, brought them only fondness over the couple. luckily none of them dared step into the intimate space, or else they would've noticed the young adepti’s pants slightly lower on his hips, blushed face and shaky exhalations from the tight grip of your hot pussy around his cock.

“xiao...” you gasp, clutching onto the wooden railing right behind your hips, roughly pressing into the soft skin of your ass, “they’ll see” yet he doesn't reply, instead pressing you closer to his chest, sliding in a bit deeper into your heat as the man whines loudly on your neck. you can’t deny Xiao looks utterly cute all whiney and fucked out just from the squeeze of your walls around his length, pressing into you with soft, barely noticeable grinds that’s mostly him staining your insides with immense amounts of precum.

“im so close, please... just a bit more” Xiao huffs, pinning your hips against the rail so you have nowhere to move as he starts to buck into you, taking your creamy pussy right where he wants. one of his hands go unnoticed under your drenched panties, which are just roughly pushed aside and catching the drops of slick that pour out of your cunt, adding enough lubrication to your pretty puffy clit. “cum, I need to feel you cum around me” he hisses, almost in pain from how tight your hole sucks on his length, pulling him nice and deep for his cum to spurt into your pussy as you convulse and cum around him, head hanging low in an attempt to hide the pleasured look on your face from any poor unlucky traveler.

“everyone in the Akademiya is so fuckin' stupid” Scaramouche hisses under his breath, followed by a string of curses that you have no idea who he learnt from. the other thing you wonder about is how is he capable of speaking so much while undoing your shirt buttons, roughly tossing it open for his hands to cup your breasts, tugging on the slightly hardened nipple from the outdoors breeze.

“they can go to their dumb explorations alone I don’t know why they would want me there” your boyfriend complains again, pushing you further until your hands press against the rocky stone behind the Akademiya, right where the path ended and a slightly secluded spot appeared from behind a couple of branches.

“are you sure no one comes around here?” you ask ignoring his complaints, which get cut off suddenly before he grunts.

“yeah I'm sure, besides...” Scaramouche smirks to himself, raising your skirt until the fabric bunches on your hips, roughly pushing your underwear down for two of his fingers to slide across your slit, “you’re so wet, this whole thing turns you on, huh? what a slut”

you try to fight back, you really do but your words die in your throat as soon as Scaramouche’s dick presses against your entrance, inching inside so painfully slow you could only whimper, spreading out your legs for his forcefully thrusting inside your pussy, not giving a fuck if anyone could hear his loud throaty groans of pleasure, nor the loud squelching sound of your cunt getting pounded roughly. it takes you an embarrassing short time to cum, being stimulated since hours earlier did the trick but neither you nor Scaramouche could take your sweet time, and the flutter of your walls is enough to make your boyfriend cum as well, humping into your back for every drop of cum to be deep in your pussy.

a soft spank on your ass and he's quick to fix your panties, watching them wetten by the mixture of your slick and his cum, “see you at home” he smirks and leaves a kiss on your lips, at least now, cheerfully walking back into the Akademiya.

“you’re doing amazing, baby, just hold in a little more” Kaeya whispers in your ear, his voice so soothing you could only nod, although unable to resist the urge to squirm in your place, accidentally squeezing harder against the man’s cock slotted deep inside your walls. his arms clutch harder around your waist, forcing you to sit quietly on his lap, the long skirts you wore enough to cover your laps and the lewd action you were participating in at the second floor of Angel’s share.

you whine, soft and breathy, noticing by the corner of your eye, how Kaeya seemed to be a bit too slow in drinking his last glass of wine, swirling the cup between his palm with a soft smirk always present on your lover’s face. his name comes out of your mouth almost in a beg, to which he replies with a chuckle, “what is it, darling? you’ve been so good so far, I know you can just wait a bit more, can you?” he whispers sultry, bouncing his leg so you choke out on a moan at the sensation of his cock caressing your insides.

“y-yeah, I can” you mutter.

“that’s my good girl” your boyfriend praises in a melodic tone, leaving a soft kiss on your neck before his free hand slides under your skirt, rubbing on your bare puffy clit until your walls quiver around his cock, ripping a groan out of his lips and a follow up praise. “i wish for nothing else than bending and fucking you right here” he sighs, deep and full of lust as you hiccup in need, “but we can’t leave just yet, that’d be a pity” Kaeya mocks, continuing his assault on your clit as his uncovered eye glimmers with amusement, adoring how your forehead rests against the table, eyes closed shut and whines coming out freely out of your mouth. he just needs to see you cum, to make a mess around his cock with a broken sob and nails digging in the wood of the bench for plenty of people to wonder what were those marks made from.

[gamblersdoll]

brat taming kirishima with his bratty tsundere girlfriend.

idk thinking that kiri can be such a soft but hard as fuck dom and it always come to a head when you get snarky, like he knows how you are, almost as bad as bakugou.

but god, does he love when you subconsciously act out.

in this sense, you had completely forgot the rule about not allowing kiri to help you with the heavier things. he hates when you get too independent. sure, he knows you carry yourself so, so good. but hes trying to make you not be so defensive, so independent where you cannot be helped because you wont let the thickest walls down.

and on top of that, you shooed him away. biggest mistake for you.

“you know youre not supposed to be carrying these heavy things, right baby?” he tries to take the big box of a black grill out of your hands, but you pull away and swat your hand.

“i can do this shit by myself, kiri.” you grumble, sitting it in the garage with a standing kirishima.

none of that mattered now, not the way he has you folded up on your back to mattress and spread eagle.

the sheer force of his body always knocked you into oblivion, thrusts making your voice so high and ragged.

“i’m sorry, im so sorr—y!” you squeal, moans just bubbling out and a thumb circling your clit.

“oh, i know.” he coos, thrusts becoming meaner by the second. oh, he was pissed. pissed because, the fuck you thought this was? let him lift heavy things for you! youre not single anymore.. and your exes were some punk ass bitches. “bet you wont do this shit again, huh baby?”

you nod, tears starting to bubble up in the corner of your eyes and trying to keep the hold of the back or your knees.

he slows, keeping that motion on your clit and thrusting once really hard. “words, baby.” he growls, pointed teeth gritting.

“yes! yes!” you hiccup, feeling his hips go back to bullying your cervix.

“such a fuckin’ brat you know?” he groans, soft slaps against your cheek. “need’a real man to fuck into you like this, huh?” he coos again, rolling his eyes at a certain tightness. “always gotta be so mean to me.”

you nod, babbling incoherent words and sentences as he circled your over sensitive clit and push his cock deeper. “igunnacum!”

“there you go, just let go and cum, ‘kay baby?”

you hate how gooey he makes you feel. how patience is his strongest suit and making you feel so pathetic in his hands. he was right, needed a big bruly man to fuck you so deep you forget to rebuild that wall you made to protect yourself.

“you going to be mean like that again?” he asked, thrusting in his needy tip that pushes and traps you into the corner of the bed that is against the wall. “hm? cmon, say something, love.”

one thing about kirishima, you know hes pissed when hes drilling you like this, and he’s mocking and laughing at you.

his hands grips your hips hard, all two eighty five hundred pounds of him loving you. “fuck— fuck! yeah, cum!” demanded, and starved. finally, he hits that gummy spot hard enough, and your clit throbs and feels like it clenches on its own, creamy translucent fluid just dribbling from your walls and he laughs out.

“oh, thats my girl.” he shushes, wiping the tears and kissing your cheek. he groans, pulling himself out from your confinements and stroking himself, looking down as he growls from his chest meanwhile his own essence drools to the couch.

you just lay there, a twitching mess as he presses your legs up. he takes the discarded shirt of his to wipe up your cream and then his own. “you okay baby? did i go to hard, again?” he thickly swallows, feeling the pat of your hand against his large bicep.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

can you PLEASEEEE do something with the idea of reader stealing/wearing katsukis clothes?? you’re the only one who i think will fully do this idea justice xx

pure fluff, reader is a thief, reader likes the way katsuki smells, roughhousing lol kinda ?? katsuki sorta tackles you, katsuki is a meanie, tickling, no pronouns mentioned in this one I don’t think ! lemme know if i missed sum else !!

a/n : hey so this has been sittin in my drafts for literal decades omg IM SO SORRY🙁🙁🙁🙁ALSO BTW TYSM FOR THINKIN I COULD DO UR ASK JUSTICE I WAS SO FLATTERED WHEN I READ THIS I WAS GIGGLING N SHIT🤭🤭i was always so excited for this ask but I literally never got around to doing it after my break n stuff, im slowly (and that’s suuuuper slowly im so sorry yall i suck) getting to all of your asks one at a time and im so grateful yall r still givin me the time of day honestly , so please be patient with me🤧💗💗💍 ! But anway enough dumping ! Anon if you’re still sticking around, i truly hope u enjoy this ! And ofc all of yall too ! much luv xxx!!

"you fuckin' thief.."

shit. you thought he'd be gone for longer.

lately, you’d been routinely sneaking into katsuki’s dorm room and nabbing some of his clothes. sweaters, hoodies, t-shirts : as long as they were in your reach, you’d grab them.

it's not your fault, really ! katsuki's clothes are so cosy and warm and they smell just like him. plus, they're perfect to snuggle in when he's busy, how could you not borrow them for a little while ?!

..except you can admit that you’ve been stalling..and a lot of his clothes were still in your room, but you still planned on giving them back..soon !

and you can’t even pretend, because you’re wearing on of his hoodies that had been missing for a good week now.

"katsuki, baby." you slowly lean away from his clothes drawer, your hand ready to snag a black hoodie of his slowly trailing towards the floor "i can explain."

"all my damn sweaters, my fuckin' hoodies. they all just vanished without a trace.." he starts, slowly stalking over to you. you squeak, slowing getting on your knees to prepare yourself should you have to break his ankles and sprint out of the room. he's fuming, eyebrows twitching "thought i was goin' crazy.."

"and all this time.."

"suki.." you try, voice wobbly as your knees shake with each step closer he gets.

"it's been fucking YOU ?!"

and he pounces.

with a squeal, you scramble and dash away just as he leaps for you and narrowly misses, he's got you cornered as you're on opossite sides of his bed while you beg for mercy and he keeps yelling at you to 'come here'. in a panick you grab one of his pillows and fling it at him.

it feels like the pillow slides down his face in slow motion to reveal a look so vile a demon appearing in front of you right now would scare you less

“you’re. so. dead.”

there’s really nowhere else for you to go. you’re truly cornered, you might as well just be buried right now. you think about the leftovers waiting for you in the fridge and how sero still hadn’t returned the manga he’d leant from you, but you’ve lived a pretty good life.

before your body can decide to move, katsuki leaps over to you tackling you and having you land straight onto his bed with a loud shriek.

frantically, you wave your hands around “wait, wait pleasepleasepleasepleasepleas-” but your begs of mercy are cut off when katsuki jams a finger into your side, causing you to yelp. he hovers over you with a mean smirk. and you know what’s coming.

“katsu—”

you don’t even get to finish before he jams his hands into your sides and mercilessly tickles you.

from an outsiders point of view? this is harmless. but your boyfriend is mean and the biggest asshole in the world because he knows all of your weak spots and the places he knows will have you shaking and gasping for breath. it felt like actually torture, really.

“thought you could get away with it, huh ?” he sneers, leaning down a bit more so he’s eye level with you “thought you could keep taking my shit and i’d just neeever find out, hm ? yeah ?”

“b-but i—ah ! didn’t—!” you gasp and squeal, choking on the sentences you can’t manage to push out of your throat as your eyes squeeze closed. you don’t have to see his face to know he’s enjoying this.

“you’re a fuckin’ thief.” he spits, backing up from you so you don’t headbutt him square in the nose from your thrashing. you’re response is nothing but a harsh gasp and he smirks wider.

you think he’s finally, finally taken pity on you when his fingers slow to a stop, but he glares down at you, hands still on either sides of you “say it.”

you can’t even catch your breath before he hurriedly pressed closer to your sides to scare you, you shriek “stop ! m’sorry !”

“not what i wanted you to say, try again.”

“you’re—” you take a breath “sucha”

his fingers graze your shirt and his eyes are wide, daring you to finish your sentence, you bring your hands up to try to hide his field of vision.

“OKAY ! okay, okay…” you slowly lower your hands away, finally dropping them at your sides with a sigh “m’ a thief…” you mumble in defeat, embarrassment creeping up on you not only from the fact that you got caught but that the blond above you clearly enjoyed your torture if the evil snickers you heard we’re any sign of that.

he hums in satisfaction “mhm, no good fuckin’ thief. should lock you up and throw away the key on your ass.” you hate how handsome he looks when he’s playful like this with you. your sides still hurt and your voice is croaky from how out of breath you were and for a moment you seriously thought you saw the pearly gates.

you pout, and all it does is make him smile wider.

your boyfriend is mean. and the biggest asshole in the entire fucking world.

“s’not my fault..your clothes are comfy.” you mumble, crossing your arms over your chest. “and they smell good.”

he scoffs, leaning down closer towards you “that’s cus i fuckin’ wash them. and i haven’t been able to lately cus someone’s been stealing my entire closet.”

“i didn’t !”

“was boutta make me walk around naked, ya moron. all my clothes are gone.” you roll your eyes, he never lacked in the dramatics department.

“you’re such a drama queen.” you whine, sinking into his comforter. he ignores you and he presses your cheeks together with one hand, chuckling at your smooched cheeks and furrowed brows.

“stop stealing my stuff.” he announces slowly. he’s clear, no way you could’ve misunderstood him anyway. he sighs and presses a quick peck to your lips still pressed together

“if you want one of my sweaters r’something, jus’ come ask me. can give you one..or whatever.” he finishes, voice slightly muffled in embarrassment as he shoves his mouth against yours again and again making wet kissing sounds and you manage a giggle. he rolls his eyes, but a smile slowly crawls up his face anyway as he releases your cheeks. you let out a happy sigh, opening and closing your mouth to get rid of the slight soreness.

“take this shit off though.” he tugs at the hoodie you’re wearing “stinks. need to put it in the wash.”

“no it doesn’t !” you protest, pressing the color against your nose in an attempt to keep it close to you “it smells like you!” you pout. he doesn’t respond for a bit, opting to squint at you while the tips of his ears turned pink. and in a second his snatched the bottom of it and ripped it off of you, ripping a pathetic scream from you.

he examined his hoodie with an unreadable expression before his eyes land back on you for a second, then he slowly starts folding up his sweater “you trynna say i stink ?” he says lowly.

“no. i wouldn’t wear your clothes if they were nasty” you scrunch up your nose “you can take back the sweater in my room, though. the smell is starting to wear off.”

“gee, thanks for offering to give me my sweater back. weirdo” he glares, spitting his words out sarcastically and you giggle at his extra emphasis on his ownership of the hoodie which earns you a huff.

“ i’m grabbing all the shit you took from me, and they stay with me.” he starts warningly “but you can keep this, i guess..” he adds, patting on his now folded hoodie ready for a cleaning. you smile happily, running your socked feet into his blankets.

“ oh, but don’t forget to wear it first after you washed it, want it to smell like you. otherwise there’s no point.”

“you really are a fucking weirdo.” he spits, but the way his cheeks burn bright red say he’s not truly mad about it. you laugh, and katsuki grumbles. “hope you learned your lesson, freak.” he taunts. you hum in fake thought, then release a sigh.

“yeah, i guess i did.” you concede, and he nods proudly.

and sure, yeah, you’re boyfriend’s a big meanie. but you do a great job at riling him up.

“for now.”

[rinhaler]

I’m begging you to write a bimbo x Toji fanfic

IM ON MY KNEES PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE IM BEGGING YOU🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

Been in a BJ mood so enjoy some 69ing xoxo

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, bimbo!reader, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby), daddy kink, spanking, 69ing, messy blowjob + pussy eating (duh), head pushing, praise, dumbification, degradation, age gap, exhibitionism ig?

words: 2.1k

“He’s not here, sweetheart.”

The bass of his voice rattles throughout your nervous system. And before you know it, you’re squeezing your thighs together and biting your lip as you look up at him, the way he almost entirely fills the space between the door frame. A slow smirk beginning to play on his lips as he watches you.

You’ve had a crush on your best friends dad since the first time he brought you over to hang out. He didn’t seem particularly interested in you, at first. Not until your skirts got shorter and your tops became skimpier.

“We had plans…” you pout a little, glossy lips shimmering in the afternoon sun. He clears his throat, adjusting his stance a little as he continues to look down at you.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, a little more curtly than intended. “And what plans were those?”

“Mm,” you hum, flicking through your texts to pull up your thread with Megumi. “Wanna hang out on Thursday? I can get us some booze and we can relax around the pool. My dad will be at wor— wait, you’re not at work?”

“Because it’s Monday, baby. Not Thursday.” he laughs a little as he shows you the date on his own phone. “Got a little confused there, huh? He’s at the library with the pink haired one, he ain’t here.”

“Oh…” you pout again. “’m sorry. I guess I should be studying too, I’ll go meet him there. See ya later Mister Fushiguroooo~!” you smile before beginning to skip away.

“Hey,” he calls after you. A grin quickly spreads across your face before you turn to face him again. He kisses his teeth, looking you up and down slower and more purposefully than ever before. He curls his finger, prompting you to come closer. “You’re all dressed for the beach, not the library. You can come in ‘n wait for him here, baby. You even brought your li’l swimsuit in your bag, huh? Come on.” he tilts his head as he walks inside.

You follow him hurriedly, closing the door after yourself when you enter. He doesn’t wait around for you, jogging up the stairs and shutting the door loudly after himself. You huff, wondering what the point of coming inside was if you’re just gonna be waiting by yourself anyway.

It doesn’t deter you, though. You dip into the downstairs bathroom and change into your swimsuit, sauntering outside to set up a lounger so you can at least catch a few rays before Megumi gets back.

You lay back, immediately feeling your skin heat up as the sun burns down onto your still body. There’s a lack of breeze, and the warmth soon becomes suffocating.

But soon enough, the sun disappears. Your eyebrows scrunch at the sudden change, your body plunged into shade and your temperature drops. You open your eyes, your best friends obscenely large father blocking out the ball of fire as he stands above you.

“Here, keep hydrated.” he orders, putting down a fruity looking cocktail filled to the brim with ice by your side. His white, open shirt begins to billow from a brief gust of wind, and he takes his seat with his own drink on the lounger beside yours.

He wasn’t avoiding you after all, he was getting changed.

You lean over, taking a small sip of the cocktail by your side. “Oh shit, that’s so yummy. Did you make it?”

He smirks again, but keeps his eyes closed as he lays back under the shade of his parasol. “Nah, the butler did it.”

“Really?” you ask, excitedly.

He can’t help but laugh at your naivety, turning his head to look at you. “No, sweetheart. Have you ever seen a butler around here? Course I made it.” he tells you, drinking in your bewildered expression as how gullible you are begins to dawn on you. “You ain’t too bright, are ya?”

“That’s—” you speak instantly, but put your drink back down to soak up the sun once more. ��Mean.”

“Awe, sorry darlin’,” he smiles at you, but you don’t see it. “At least you’re pretty.”

He angles his head to face the sun, while yours snaps to look at him. You can’t hide your wide, cheesy smile as the words race through your mind.

At least you’re pretty.

At least you’re pretty.

At least you’re—

“You think I’m pretty?” you blurt out, though you feel no shame as the words leave your mouth. It’s the best thing you’ve ever heard another human being say to you in your life. Megumi’s hot dad thinks you’re pretty.

“You’re not that dumb, are you?” he faces you, finally, running his tongue along his top row of teeth. “You’re a gorgeous little thing, that’s for sure. Gonna give an old man like me the wrong idea, walkin’ around in a skimpy swimsuit like that.”

“The wrong idea?” you tilt your head at him. “I dunno what you mean, Mister Fushiguro.”

“Mmm, I betch’a don’t. I love li’l airheads like you.” he sneers. “Or maybe you know exactly what I mean, ‘n you’re just pretending to be dumb.”

You pout again as you think about what he’s saying. He watches you as you try and understand his words, the notion of pretending to be anything utterly perplexing you. He doesn’t take his eyes off you, though he’s a little surprised to see you roll onto your side so you can look at him properly.

“… Are you flirting with me?” you wonder.

“Hah,” he snickers. “You’re really tryna get me in trouble, huh? Would ya like that?”

“… uh-huh…” you nod slowly, biting your lip again. You watch as he smirks at you, adrenaline running through your veins as you wonder where this is heading. Is he simply teasing you?

“Have you got a li’l crush on me, sweetheart? That’s real bad. Remember who I am? Your best friends old man.”

“You’re not an old man,” you try to assure him. But he can only laugh at your idiocy once more. “Had a crush on you forever…” you admit, getting up from your lounger and walking over to his. You decide to take the risk, moving each of your legs on either side of him before slowly lowering yourself.

He bites his own lip, aged scar pulling deliciously as he smooths his hands over the curves of your waist. A grunt rumbles through his throat as you barely move, lightly humping against his stiffening cock.

And in an instant, your bikini is soaked.

You rut your hips more, and more, until he holds you still.

“Wanna fuck.” you whimper, and he starts to tut.

“Mmm, me too. Maybe next time.” he thinks, cock flexing as he imagines the feeling of your tight walls wrapping around him so perfectly. “Wan’ you to put that empty head of yours to good use.” he tells you.

A dazed expression decorates your face as you try and decode what he means. But instead of leaving you confused, he carefully pushes you away from his growing bulge so he can pull out his leaking length.

“Go on, princess. Suck me off.” he tells you.

You’re too astonished by the sight of his cock to even move. A beautiful thickness with a gorgeous curve you can only use as a fantasy for future reference as you imagine it hitting and stretching every spot inside.

He’s amazed that you don’t need to be told twice, however, you soon position yourself to take his length into your salivating mouth. You look up at him with wide, wet eyes as you kiss and suck his tip. Only looking away to spit into your hand, using it to jerk him off whilst you continue to suck like your life depends on it.

He can’t take his eyes off you, even taken aback as you further pull down his beach shorts to free his balls. He’s besotted at the sight of you, completely and wholly lovestruck as you produce enough saliva to completely soak his length, spittle dripping and sliding as it drenches his cock and balls. He winces as you cup them, licking up and down his cock before you suck one into your mouth.

All the while, your eyes are on him. Never before has he felt embarrassed whilst receiving head. But right now, he feels entirely at your mercy. He holds your gaze, though, intent on overriding the feelings of embarrassment as you turn him into a grunting and groaning puddle.

“Fuuuuuck, sweetheart,” he grins, chest heaving as you don’t let up on him. Your fist becomes a blur, and even still, he can’t stop himself from thrusting into your grip. “Pretty little girl… look s’cute with your mouth full’a my cock.”

You moan, at that. The praise overwhelming you enough to release one of his balls from your mouth before you go back to sucking him off. You take him deeper and deeper, as deep as you can take him without showing any signs of gagging.

“Such a good cocksucker for me, baby,” he tells you as he starts to push your head down on him. “Knew that an airhead like you would be a fucking pro.”

“G-Got such a big dick, daddy.” you tell him as you push off of him, desperate to tell him. He drags you up closer to him, kissing you sloppily as your body presses into his. You lie comfortably in his embrace in the shaded spot, moaning into his mouth as you grind down on his cock. “P-Please fuck me.”

“Oh, princess… does your little cunt need daddy’s attention?” he wonders, kissing you again. “Told ya, I want my cock sucked.” he slaps your ass. “Move, go on.” he orders, though despite his instruction, he begins to manhandle you.

You’re soon positioned so you’re practically sitting on his face while his throbbing cock is back in yours. He moves the material of your bikini into the crease of your thigh and gives your pussy a light spank.

“Don’t stare at it, sweetheart. Suck my cock, now.”

You immediately do as you’re told, taking him down your throat while he teases you enough to have you trembling. Touching anywhere and everywhere except where you need him most. Until finally, he places a delicate kiss between your sodden folds.

“Baby, she’s drooling. You really do have a crush on me.” he chuckles. He wastes no more time, after that, burying his face between your thighs and slurping up your lewdness. He moans into your folds before he shoves two fingers into your clenching hole.

His cock falls from between your lips, then, and you moan loud enough for the entire neighbourhood to hear you. He slaps your ass again, and it’s hard. “Shut up.” he warns. “I won’t let you cum if you do that again.”

The warning is enough to make you focus yourself on his pleasure. His mouth is making your toes curl and your head become emptier than even he thought possible. Tears begin to flow from your eyes as you do all you can to prioritise him and keep your moans to yourself.

Your throat tightens and constricts the more you withhold. You can’t control it fully, still humming around him. It’s somewhat calculated, yes. But the thought of being caught or ratted out to Megumi is making him a little more cautious. Then again, if he really didn’t wanna be caught, he wouldn’t be fucking his sons best friend in the backyard.

He pulls away, still curling his fingers into your g-spot as his face shimmers from your sticky folds. “Can’t believe you called me daddy you little slut,” he spanks you. “That’s right, isn’t it baby? You’re daddy’s dumb little slut.”

“Mhmm!” you mewl. “Mmm, mmm, mmm~!” you whine as you begin to unfurl. Your cunt squeezes hard enough to almost break his fingers, though it doesn’t deter him from devouring you whole. He begins to thrust up into your mouth, and he shoots ribbon after ribbon of hot white cum between your drool soaked lips.

Neither of you move, both exhausted from the overwhelming release.

“Wh— Did that just… happen?” you ask, breathlessly.

“Sure did,” he laughs, slapping your ass as he does. “You need to give me your number, baby. I gotta be able to text you when Megumi ain’t home.”

“Hm…” you consider it. “Why would I come over again when Megumi isn’t here?”

“God, princess, you really can’t think why? Daddy wants to be able to split your pussy open on his cock whenever he wants. Don’t want Megumi home for that, do ya baby?”

“N-No…” you sigh dreamily, closing your eyes as you finally move to lie comfortably beside him. “You better fuck me next time!”

“Next time?” he grins. “Megs won’t be home for a few hours. I’ll fuck you in a few minutes, sweetheart.”

© 2024 rinhaler

[jsmainblog]

taking it slow - spencer reid ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

spencer reid x inexperienced!reader (established relationship)

requests are always open <3

❤️‍🔥smut

a/n: this is the first time i've ever written a smut like full oneshot which i wrote awhile ago so if this sucks im really sorry squad

warnings: 18+, fingering, mentions of sex

In the midst of your lovers absence (surprise! surprise! he has another case across the other side of the country!!!) you decided that you were going to have sex with him. The thought of it initially was shocking to you even. This abrupt decision was spurred on after chatting to your friend who was throughly shocked that Spencer hasn't gone past heavy makeout sessions with you and a little over the clothes groping (is this because he's a man or is this because you guys have been dating to the point where you guys having sex is assumed? you couldn't determine). So you decided you were going to get it over and done with. After all you were a virgin in every sense of the word even if you despise the concept of it. So flash forward a couple of days you lay in bed on your nightly phone call with Spencer.

"So is there anything else you wanna tell me about?" he inquires

"Yes" you declared

"Really now?"

"Yes really Spencer. I've decided that when you get back I'm going to have sex with you."

"Woah there sweetheart. Lets slow down a little okay? So over my 2 week absence you have came to this little revelation of yours?" he says sounding shocked and amused.

"Yes."

"Why? I mean like yeah I kinda understand that people do feel a need to have sex to be closer with one another even if its just us wanting to go through the actions of reproducing without consequences. But are you sure you want to do that its a little sudden don't you think?" he explains gently

"I do want to do it" you say insistently. His constant questioning is making you feel a little annoyed because you do want to do it with him. Why wouldn't you? But it also tugged at the strings in your brain that maybe Spencer wasn't attracted to you in that way and maybe thats why he's never brought it up before.

"We can do it if you really want. But why don't we work are way up to it, huh angel? I just want you to get comfortable before tossing you into the deep end. I don't want you to back out during the middle of it."

"Okay" you murmur. "What time do you land tomorrow?"

"Uhhhh..Should be around 10:30am. Anyways I imagine its getting pretty late for you so you should sleep. I love you y/n, I'll see you tomorrow, sweet dreams my love."

"I love you too Spence goodnight." You say into the phone before hanging up. So now you have a plan. A daunting one, but yet a plan none the less.

The next day transpired pretty normally. Spencer getting home from his case, having a power nap whilst you went about your life leading to a makeout session.

Spencer kissed you like a man starved, tongue tracing your mouth like he was committing it to memory which he most indefinitely was. If one day he showed up with a 3D model of the inside of your mouth you wouldn't be surprised in the slightest. You could feel your body temperature rising and a familiar throb from between your thighs. Spencer's hands rested on your hips rubbing them gently. When he pulled away a confused look crossed your face.

"Is there something wrong?" you stutter earning you a breathless laugh from him.

"No nothings wrong your just really pretty thats all, and I also wanted to ask if your okay with me touching you?" he confesses

"Um..Yeah more than okay..Uh" you breathe

"Don't be nervous baby just lift your hips for me yeah?" he says a bit amused starting to unbutton your jeans. It hits you suddenly. You're actually doing this ur breathing picks up but ur not scared actually ur excited very excited. Spencer practically mashes his mouth to yours as the jeans came off and were thrown somewhere across the room. He uses his thigh to nudge your legs apart.

"Mmmm i think pretty is an understatement when it comes to you angel" he jokes which illicts a shy laugh from you. He uses his thumb brushing over your clit. Your heavy breathing turns into whines and eventually little moans as you feel a warm slippery sensation forming.

"There we go, good girl" he mumbles "Well I think theres no use of these panties anymore they are throughly soaked. Lets get these off you yeah?" he questions before tugging at your panties. Your doing this with Spencer Reid. The Spencer Reid you thought as shy and timid when you first met him and now well he's doing this. You can't help but to look up at him adoringly. Before you know it the rubbing sensation continues only you can feel it a little more this time and now a new feeling of a weird stretch? You sit up a bit where you find Spencer's hand joining the junction of your thighs looking up at you with a sweet grin. From what you have heard from your girlfriends guy's liked to take pleasure from you to give to themselves not giving it to you, and you certainly haven't known someone who described someone looking at them so lovingly the first time they did it together. This reiterates the fact that 'woah Spencer really loves you.' which is confirmed by the building pleasure as another finger slips inside.

"You're doing so well baby, you're being so good." he breathes as his eyes flick from his hand to your face. "You doing okay there?"

"Uh huh very well" you moan

"Yeah I can see that"

After a while of his fingers pumping rhythmically the spring in your stomach snaps and you go weirdly squirmy as you feel a warm feeling trickle through your veins. Best feeling ever. Spencers fingers slip out as he wipes it on his leg and lays next to you softly kissing all over your face.

"You okay?" he questions his fingers tracing your arms gently.

"I love you" you say hoarsely which illicit a soft laugh from him.

"Yeah baby I can tell"

-------------------------------

a/n: again guys im sorry if this was bad i myself was cringing a little writing this 😭

[cyber333angel]

HATE SEX WITH RAFE !

you and rafe had been arguing for about three days now, huffing and puffing whenever you saw each other and slamming doors around the house. however today, you really wanted to piss him off and get back at him. it was around 8 pm where you were putting the finishing touches to your pretty little outfit, layering your jewelry and picking out what delicious scent you would smell like tonight.

you grabbed your purse and started to head down the stairs where rafe sat on the couch occupying himself with his phone. as he heard the click clacks of your heals he looked up from the screen, observing the way your tits bounced with every step and how the volume of your hair sprung up and down, overall how absolutely gorgeous you looked. a loud voice interrupts you as you reach the last step, “where the fuck are you going dressed like that?” unfazed by the hostility, you answer. “a party.” you give him a short response, purposely to tick him off and you see rafe spring up from his seat, walking towards you. “a party with who?” he says while nodding his head and biting his thumb. you look up at him annoyed. “with sarah and kie, why do you care anyway?” you break eye contact with him and you start walking to the entryway, almost at the door handle. mumbling under your breath quietly, “so annoying like..get out of the fucking way.“

you knew better than to talk to your boyfriend like that, realizing it when suddenly your throat and hand that was reaching for the door, are held in a tight grip from rafe. “don’t ever fix your mouth to say some shit like that to me again, you hear me?” startled by his sternness you decide to push him more, just to see how far he would go. “fuck you rafe, your not the boss of me.” rafe twists his head at you, since it seems like your not knowing who your talking to. “yeah, im not the boss of you?”

..your now on the bed, your coily hair held in rafes hand in a tight grip as he abuses your cunt. he bunched up the dress halfway up your spine, panties lost at the end of your ankle as your knees pressed into the bed. your ass ricocheted off his pelvis from the brutal pace, and your eyes went half lidded from the pain and pleasure. “got some fuckin nerve thinking you could talk to me like that.” he had been fucking you for what seemed like hours at this point, his cock buried in your pussy leaking out white liquid. “mmm daddy m’so-sorryy! won’t do it again i swear!” you beg, your soaked hole becoming sensitive at every harsh thrust he makes you take.

rafe ignores your pleads, letting it really sink in and make you think of the way you acted earlier. “nah but you weren’t sorry before when you wanted to go act like a slut at some fucking party.” he bends down close to your ear, pulling your hair to level your face with his. “huh sweetheart? what happened to all that fuckin talk? i thought i wasn’t the boss of you?” you could only answer with sobs and cry’s from how rough he was being. your wet skin smacking together, sweaty from how good he was making you feel. his cock dragging in and out of your cunt making your head spin, “hngh..slo-slow down rafey!” he grips the fat of your ass and relaxes his pace, fucking you slowly as he runs his hands through his hair straightening his back. he ponders, opening his mouth to ask you a question. “where’d you learn to speak to me like that hm? never spoke t’me like that before so what happened, you needed some dick?” he waits for your response, still rocking his hips back and forth slowly.

you shake your head, “d-didn’t want to argue with you anymore daddy.. im sorry nd ill be good now promise!” whining at him, rafe coos at you, knowing you only did this to end the useless bickering between the two of you. “t’aw s’okay baby i know your sorry, i know your a good girl. daddy doesn’t like to argue with you either alright?” you nod frantically, happy that your little squabble with your boyfriend was over. “go on and cum on this dick sweetheart, just like that..” he admires you from above, watching the way you squirm as you cream on his cock. rafe put in a last few thrusts and pulls out, cumming on your back where your dress was bunched up at the top. it was a shame though, you really did look good in that dress.

[orangeblossomsintheair]

ILLICIT AFFAIRS (2/3) | CS55

summary : You tap on his profile again, almost like you’re double-checking to make sure this isn’t some kind of glitch. But no. Apparently, it’s real. You thought it was just a one-night stand. Maybe it still is. But who the hell follows their one-night stand’s Instagram?

or: Carlos proposes a deal to counter your argument that no he cannot catch a two-hour plane ride for a bootycall— phone sex.

wc : 7.5k

an : uh.. hi again 🫶 this was super fun to write!! :> im so glad ppl seemed to enjoy pt 1

He’s hyperaware of the heat radiating from your skin, the faint sheen of sweat glistening against the dim light, and the way your fingers lazily trace patterns across his chest.

When it’s over, Carlos feels the weight of you collapse onto his chest, your soft breaths mingling with his own as both of you struggle to steady yourselves.

He knows this should be the part where he gets up, grabs a drink, maybe offers you a towel.

Instead, his hands wander down your back, his fingertips finding those tiny dimples near the base of your spine. He traces slow, absentminded circles, grinning when you squirm against him with a halfhearted giggle that bubbles up like a melody he didn’t know he liked.

“Ticklish, huh?” he teases, his voice low and teasing, though it lacks the sharpness he usually reserves for these fleeting encounters.

“Maybe,” you mumble into his chest, your voice muffled and sleepy.

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

It’s the kind of thing he doesn’t normally do.

Too intimate, too dangerous. But with you, it feels natural, easy.

And therein lies the problem.

He pulls out, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead when you let out a quiet whine.

With a practiced motion, he removes the condom, ties it off, and tosses it into the bin before slipping back into bed beside you, not even a minute later.

The two of you lie there in the quiet, the air between you filled with the soft sound of your breathing.

Carlos stares at the ceiling, his mind racing even as his body feels like it’s sinking into the mattress.

This was supposed to be simple.

One night. No strings.

But you’re fun. Too fun, really.

It's not that he’s never met women who are funny, or ones who’ve turned an evening into something more than just a tangle of bodies.

It’s just that, for the most part, that’s all it is. An unspoken agreement that they'll share the night, and then part ways. A blank, if not lustful, exchange.

You, on the other hand, have spent the whole night surprising him, throwing him off-kilter in a way he didn’t think he’d enjoy.

The banter, the teasing, the way you’d wrinkle your nose at him when you didn’t believe his answers.

It all stuck with him in a way he knows it shouldn’t.

“You want tiramisu?” he asks suddenly, his voice cutting through the silence.

You lift your head, your sleepy eyes meeting his with a confused smile. “What?”

“Tiramisu,” he repeats, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Do you still want some?”

Your laugh is so unexpected and genuine that it catches him off guard. It’s light, carefree, and the way your nose scrunches in that way he's becoming to fond makes his chest tighten.

“I just… gave you the best sex of your life,” you say, propping yourself up on your elbow, your grin mischievous. “And you’re offering me dessert?”

Carlos raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “What can I say? I’m a man of priorities.”

“Priorities, huh?” You snort, shaking your head. “So what, tiramisu’s your way of saying ‘thanks for the good time’?”

“Something like that.” He shrugs, though the glint in his eyes betray his amusement.

You narrow your eyes at him, but there’s no real malice in your gaze. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously charming,” he counters without missing a beat, his grin turning cocky.

You roll your eyes, but the way you settle back against his chest tells him you’re not as annoyed as you pretend to be.

And that’s when it hits him, the thought sinking like a stone in his gut.

He likes this. Likes you.

Maybe not romantically. Not yet at least. But definitely more than he should.

The realization is unwelcome, gnawing at the edges of his carefully constructed rules.

This is a one-night stand. That’s all it’s supposed to be.

But here you are, lying on his chest like you belong there, laughing at his dumb jokes and making his heart flip in a way that feels too good to ignore.

The thought itself makes him sick.

“Alright,” you say suddenly, breaking him out of his spiral. “Fine. Let’s get tiramisu.”

He blinks at you, startled by your casual agreement. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, grinning. “But only if you admit I was better than you.”

Carlos groans, his head tipping back against the pillow. “I’m never admitting that.”

You laugh again, soft and sweet, and Carlos knows, despite himself, that he’s in trouble.

He places the order moments later.

You’re still sprawled on the bed, a lazy grin playing on your lips.

“Do you always use tiramisu as a post-sex strategy?” you ask, your voice light but curious.

He smirks, sitting on the edge of the bed and tossing his phone onto the nightstand. “Only for people who deserve it.”

You snort, rolling onto your stomach to prop your chin on your hands. “Lucky me.”

“Lucky me,” he counters, glancing over his shoulder at you. The way your hair falls across your face, messy and untamed, makes his chest tighten.

When the dessert arrives, Carlos grabs it from the door, careful not to let the guy bringing it up see the faint red marks on his neck.

He returns with the elaborate cloche, holding it up triumphantly. “Food is served.”

You both sit cross-legged on the bed, the plate between you.

Carlos hands you a fork, watching as you take your first bite. Your eyes widen in exaggerated delight.

“Wow. This might be better than sex,” you joke, though the mischievous glint in your eye says otherwise.

Carlos chuckles, shaking his head. “You wound me again.”

“Well, maybe if you’d ordered two...” you tease, but your tone softens as you gesture for him to take his own bite.

The tiramisu is good. Great, even. But Carlos barely notices.

He’s too focused on the way you laugh when you get a bit of cream on your nose, or how your lips curve as you savor each bite.

You’re funny, in a way that feels effortless. It’s not just the jokes or the teasing; it’s the way you bring a lightness to the room, the way you make him feel like this moment is the only thing that matters.

And there's that thought again.

He shouldn’t be feeling this way.

He barely even knows you.

Carlos watches you scrape the last bit of tiramisu from the plate, your eyes gleaming with triumph as you lick the fork clean.

He leans back against the headboard, arms crossed, a mock glare plastered across his face.

“Didn’t even save me the last bite,” he says, shaking his head. “Unreal.”

“You snooze, you lose,” you reply smugly, placing the empty plate on the nightstand with a flourish.

“I was letting you enjoy it,” Carlos argues, sitting up straighter. “It’s called being a gentleman. Look it up.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “A gentleman wouldn’t sulk over dessert.”

“A gentleman wouldn’t have to sulk if someone had manners,” he shoots back, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

You throw your head back, laughing, and Carlos feels a strange pang in his chest.

He quickly smothers it, keeping his expression light, his tone teasing.

“Don’t worry,” you say between giggles. “I’ll order you a second one. You’ll survive.”

“Don’t bother,” he says, waving you off dramatically. “I’ll just starve. Waste away. Die in this very bed.”

“Oh, stop it,” you say, swatting his arm. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Dramatic? Me?” He feigns shock, pressing a hand to his chest like you’ve mortally wounded him. “I’m the picture of restraint.”

You narrow your eyes at him, a smirk playing on your lips. “Restraint? Coming from the guy who ate my pussy out earlier like a starved man?”

“That’s called quality service,” he says, completely deadpan. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Quality service,” you repeat, raising an eyebrow. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

He smiles, nodding.

This is what you deserve.

Lighthearted fun, no heavy emotions weighing you down.

He’s an expert at keeping things that way, at making sure there’s nothing to hold onto when the moment ends.

It’s what he promised you. And it’s what he’s going to give you.

Because anything more would be unfair.

Carlos slides out of bed quietly, careful not to disturb you as you stretch languidly under the covers.

His shirt, now crumpled, is pulled over his head in one swift motion, followed by his jeans.

He pauses for a moment, running a hand through his hair, the weight of the night settling on him like a second skin.

You watch him with a raised brow, propped up on your elbow. “I thought I was supposed to be the one getting kicked out?”

The corner of his mouth twitches as he glances at you, shaking his head. “It’s a hotel, not my permanent residence,” he retorts, his voice tinged with amusement. “I’ll go.”

The playfulness in your tone doesn’t escape him, and he can’t help but snort softly. “Besides, you look too comfortable to be evicted.”

You laugh, tucking the sheets around you. “Chivalry isn’t dead, huh?”

“Not tonight,” he quips, grabbing his wallet and keys from the nightstand.

For a moment, neither of you speaks.

The weight of reality hangs in the air, but you don’t acknowledge it. Instead, you watch as he slips on his shoes, movements practiced and deliberate.

“You don’t have to, you know,” you say finally, your voice softer now. “Leave, I mean.”

He pauses at the door, his hand resting on the handle. “I do,” he replies, looking back at you with a small, almost sad smile. “But thanks for making tonight worth it.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a warmth to your expression. “You’re a sap, you know that?”

“Guilty,” he says, offering you a mock tip-of-the-hat, before stepping out.

As the door clicks shut behind him, Carlos exhales, the cool night air hitting him as he makes his way down the hall.

His chest feels tight, but he pushes the feeling aside, forcing himself to focus on the sound of his footsteps echoing against the hotel’s tiled floor.

It’s better this way, he tells himself. Simple. Clean. No messy feelings to untangle in the morning.

—-

The next morning, Carlos slowly stirs awake, groaning as the sunlight filters through the blinds, casting a soft glow across the room.

His muscles feel heavy, his head a little foggy.

Last night is a blur, but the warmth of it lingers. The weight of your presence, the quiet moments between laughs, the way your eyes shone...

He stretches, cracking his back, but then, like a sudden punch to the gut, it hits him.

The NDA.

“Shit,” he mutters, sitting up so fast it makes his head spin.

He runs a hand over his face, the realization sinking in.

How could he forget that?

He’s been drilled on it, the legal side of things, the contracts, all of it.

He tries to calm himself, taking a deep breath.

You wouldn’t talk. You wouldn’t risk your own career for some tabloid fodder. You’re famous too, after all. Not in the same way, but enough that the press would chew you up if you decided to spill anything.

But still. His PR team would rip him apart.

His manager? Worse. And the worst part? He’d promised—promised—to behave for at least a month. A month.

And if Carlos is anything, he’s a man of his word.

“Dios mío,” he groans, grabbing his phone from the bedside table.

He scrolls through his messages, finding your number quickly. The last text exchange, brief and teasing, makes him pause.

He hesitates for a moment, wondering if texting you about this will only make things worse. Then again, what could be worse than his manager screaming in his ear while tabloids run wild?

His thumbs hover over the keyboard before he types out:

Carlos Hey. So... I realized I forgot to make you sign an NDA last night. My bad.

He deletes it immediately. Too casual.

Carlos Morning. Hope you slept well. Quick thing, meant to get an NDA signed last night. Oops.

Carlos Don’t think you’d spill, but PR would freak. Let me know if you’re alright with me sending one over?

Carlos hesitates for a moment before adding:

Carlos Also, thanks again for last night. You’re fun to be around, even if you’re a little too good at teasing me.

He hits send before he can second-guess himself, tossing his phone onto the bed with a resigned sigh.

Now all he could do was wait and hope that:

1. You wouldn’t be offended.

2. His manager wouldn’t find out about this oversight.

—-

You blink into the morning light, squinting at the phone buzzing on the nightstand like it’s trying to crawl off the table.

You groggily grab it, seeing Carlos' name pop up with a new message.

You stretch, still half asleep, and glance over the message.

The first thing that hits you is the casual tone of it, which instantly makes you raise an eyebrow. NDA?

You don’t exactly need one, at least, you didn’t think you did. But then again, it makes sense. It’s a weird industry, and it’s not like you haven’t signed your fair share of these ridiculous things before.

You laugh a little at the thought, recalling the night before. The way everything felt so effortless, so easy, and now, here he is, texting you about NDAs like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

You picture him sitting in a hotel room, pacing, maybe even nervously fidgeting with his phone like some kind of over-caffeinated, nervous wreck.

You click on his message again, rereading it.

It’s... kind of adorable, the way he’s trying to play it cool about the whole thing. You grin.

And then you spot the part where he thanks you for last night. You’re fun to be around, even if you’re a little too good at teasing me.

That makes you smile, your cheeks warming a little.

You know what he's trying to do, being all casual and kind of sweet. But you can’t help it; it’s working.

You were just teasing him for fun, but hearing him say that? Well, it kind of feels nice.

But you don’t let it linger for long.

You know the drill. You’ve signed NDAs more times than you care to count, and it’s not like you’d ever be stupid enough to leak anything. That’s not even on the table.

Sure, there are some ridiculous tabloid stories out there, but you’re not about to give them the satisfaction.

Your career and reputation are worth more than any cheap headline.

You’re not the kind of person who’d throw away your dignity for a bit of gossip, not to mention that Carlos probably wouldn’t either.

He may be a little reckless, but you get it. Both of you have something to protect, and you respect that.

You stare at your phone, a little smile tugging at your lips. You decide to just keep it simple. He’s worrying, but you’re not about to make things more complicated.

You type out your reply:

you Don't worry about it. They're not getting anything out of me.

you I’ve signed worse things than an NDA, and I’m not about to be the person to ruin your career. If it can even be ruined at this point

you Go ahead and send it over. I’ve got you

By the time afternoon rolls around, you've handled the whole NDA situation with surprising ease.

The paperwork is signed, sealed, and done in record time.

You would have expected more back-and-forth, but Carlos kept it simple. Sent the document, answered your questions, and now it’s behind you.

No drama, no complications.

You step out of the hotel with a relieved breath, feeling like the morning's oddities are finally behind you.

But then there's that nagging little detail: Charles.

Charles, who always has a million questions when you don’t stick to your usual routine.

You grab a coffee on your way back to your room, the scent a comforting excuse for your absence.

It's just something simple. Something that won’t trigger his radar.

You know Charles too well.

A well-timed story about running out for caffeine sounds harmless enough.

And if not, well..

You’ll make it work.

—-

The next week, you’re nursing a mild headache, the kind that makes the sound of your alarm feel like a personal betrayal.

As you peel your face off the pillow, the regret for every sip of alcohol you’d had the night before hits you with the force of a freight train.

You really should stop letting Daniel and Landon drag you to every club under the sun.

Your hair’s a mess, your pajamas are a little too wrinkled for comfort, and you move with the grace of a sleep-deprived zombie who’s been deprived of both sleep and caffeine.

First stop? Coffee. Always coffee.

You shuffle into the kitchen, eyes half-lidded, and reach for your favorite mug, the one that’s seen better days. The faded design, "World's Okayest Sister," is probably more fitting this morning than ever before.

You measure the coffee grounds with mechanical precision, almost like your body’s running on autopilot.

The machine hums to life, and you watch it, waiting impatiently as the rich aroma of coffee fills the kitchen.

If you stare hard enough, maybe it'll brew faster.

Once the mug is filled, you lift it to your lips and take a long, heavenly sip.

The warmth radiates through you like a tiny, much-needed hug. It's not perfect, but it’s coffee, and that’s all that matters right now.

With the cup cradled in your hands, you shuffle back to your phone, which is still sitting on the counter from last night.

Scrolling through the notifications, you pause, your thumb hovering over the screen.

And then you see it.

carlossainz55 followed you.

Your coffee mug pauses midair, precariously balanced as you blink once, twice, trying to process what you’re seeing.

No, surely you’re still asleep.

That has to be it.

You’re dreaming. It’s the only logical explanation.

But no, the notification doesn’t disappear when you squint at it. It stays there, glaring at you, daring you to react.

Carlos’ profile pops up on your screen.

His name. His profile picture, all charm and confidence. His grid, filled with race shots, candid moments, sponsoring deals and that annoyingly perfect smile.

And there it is, glaringly obvious: “Follows you.”

You tap on his profile again, almost like you’re double-checking to make sure this isn’t some kind of glitch.

But no.

Apparently, it’s real.

You thought it was just a one-night stand. Maybe it still is.

But who the hell follows their one-night stand’s Instagram?

You stare back at the notification, still processing it, still waiting for something to make sense of this.

The world feels like it's moving at half speed as you squint at the screen.

Maybe it’s a mistake, you think. Some part of you wants to just close the app and forget it.

But the notification doesn’t disappear.

It lingers. Mocking you.

It’s not like you hadn’t thought about him.

Hell, how could you not? The night had been... well, amazing. The chemistry, the way everything just clicked, the way he made you laugh, how easy it all felt, like you’d known each other far longer than you really had.

The sex? Stellar. Absolutely 10/10. Probably something you'd brag about to your friends in a very classy, not-at-all-suggestive way if you hadn’t signed that NDA.

But now... this.

Him following you on Instagram?

It's like getting slapped in the face with a wet fish that had somehow been lit on fire.

What does this even mean? Are you supposed to act like it’s totally normal? Like you didn’t just have a mind-blowing night that now, suddenly, has an Instagram follow attached to it like a weird souvenir?

Is this how Carlos tells people he’s into them? Like, “Hey, I’ll follow you on Instagram, but let’s keep it low-key, like how I casually post sponsored content about luxury watches that cost more than your rent.”

Maybe he follows everyone he hooks up with?

But no, he’s Carlos Sainz Jr.

This is a guy who gets paid in gold bars, signs contracts that come with their own zip code, and has a fanbase that could start a small country. He's the type who has a personal assistant for his personal assistant.

The fact that he’s following you feels like finding out that Beyoncé follows you. It’s just.. weird.

You inhale sharply, suddenly remembering how to breathe, and glance at the clock.

It’s way too early for this kind of chaos.

You take another sip of coffee, as though caffeine might somehow help you process what’s unfolding.

Your thumb hovers over the follow-back button. Do you? Should you?

Of course, you do.

You tap the button before you can overthink it, and the little blue “Follow” turns into a subdued grey “Following.”

You sit there for a moment, staring at your phone, waiting for… something.

A notification.

A message.

Maybe a rogue pigeon delivering a note written in Carlos’ annoyingly neat handwriting. But nothing happens.

Nada.

“Cool,” you mutter to yourself, setting the phone down as if you’re trying to pretend nothing happened.

You take a deep breath, forcing your mind to focus on literally anything else. Like taxes. Or organizing your sock drawer. Anything but the lingering feeling of weirdness in your gut.

For the rest of the day, you pretend to be busy.

You check your notifications like a paranoid criminal every hour, convinced that your phone is holding some secret conversation you’ve missed.

But no. Nothing. Just the usual nonsense. Some ads, a message from your mom about dinner, a reminder to wash your laundry.

One day turns into two. Then three. The silence becomes more deafening, and you start to wonder if you imagined the whole thing.

Did Carlos actually follow you? Did you dream the entire sequence?

By the end of the week, your life is back to normal. The frantic phone-checking ceases. It's forgotten, a memory that’s faded to black like an expired coupon.

Then, seven days later, your phone lights up, the notification banner buzzing with the energy of a surprise party that you didn’t ask for.

carlossainz55 So, do you always follow people and then pretend they don’t exist?

You blink.

Twice.

Maybe you missed something?

You almost drop your phone because you’re so unprepared for whatever this is.

It feels like being tackled by a puppy while holding a glass of wine. You were doing fine, and then suddenly, everything’s upside down.

yourhandle Excuse me? You followed me first

carlossainz55 Details. The silence was deafening

yourhandle I figured you were busy being, you know, a world-famous rally driver. No time for little people like me

carlossainz55 I make time for the important things

You snort into your coffee, half-amused, half-annoyed. The casual way he says it makes you want to roll your eyes, but you're also weirdly charmed.

yourhandle So, what prompted this sudden message? Lose a bet?

carlossainz55 I was cleaning out my DMs and remembered there was one person I forgot to annoy

yourhandle Wow. I’m honored

carlossainz55 You should be

carlossainz55 By the way, how’s your brother? Still glaring at pictures of me?

yourhandle Probably. I think he keeps a dartboard somewhere with your face on it

carlossainz55 Tell him he needs better aim. I’m still standing

yourhandle He's practicing

carlossainz55 If he needs lessons, tell him I’m available

yourhandle Yeah, I’ll let him know. I’m sure he’d love some quality bonding time with you

The conversation flows easily, light and teasing, like you’re two middle schoolers passing notes in class.

Except the notes are digital, and the subject isn’t Mrs. Henderson’s questionable choice in socks but rather the unspoken elephant in the room.

You both dance around it like you’re in twelve-year-olds, neither of you brave, or stupid, enough to confront it head-on.

At least not until Carlos, true to form, decides that subtlety is for mortals.

carlossainz55 So… about that night…

You freeze, suddenly less comforted and more “oh no, where is this going?”

yourhandle What about it?

carlossainz55 I was just thinking...

yourhandle Dangerous start

carlossainz55 ...we should do it again.

Your jaw drops. This man. This actual man.

Subtle as a brick to the face.

Your brain short-circuits for a moment, staring at your phone like it just insulted your family.

yourhandle Excuse me?

carlossainz55 You heard me. Round two. Let’s make it happen

yourhandle Carlos, you don’t just text someone a week later and propose a sequel. That’s not how this works

carlossainz55 Why not? It’s efficient. I’m a very busy man

yourhandle Busy doing what? Posing with expensive cars and pretending to care about energy drinks?

carlossainz55 Exactly. It’s a tough life

You snort, shaking your head.

He’s absolutely ridiculous, and yet you can’t stop yourself from responding.

yourhandle And what makes you think I’d even say yes?

carlossainz55 Because the first round was great. Admit it.

You hesitate, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

But he’s not wrong.

yourhandle Okay, fine. It was great. But that doesn’t mean I’m jumping at the chance for a repeat performance.

carlossainz55 Come on, live a little. I’ll even let you pick the time and place

yourhandle Oh, how generous of you

carlossainz55 I try my best

You roll your eyes so hard they practically fall out of your head.

But deep down, you’re kind of enjoying this absurd back-and-forth.

He’s bold, sure, but there’s something oddly charming about his audacity.

yourhandle I’ll think about it

carlossainz55 That’s a yes. I’ll pencil you in

yourhandle Don’t get ahead of yourself, Sainz

carlossainz55 Too late

The next day, your phone pings with a message. It’s too early for coherent thoughts, but you know it’s him.

You squint at the screen, and sure enough:

carlossainz55 So… have you decided? Sex?

You blink. Twice. Is he serious? Of course, he is. It’s Carlos.

yourhandle Wow. No preamble? No “How are you?” Just straight to it?

carlossainz55 I’m efficient

yourhandle I think the word you're looking for is shameless

carlossainz55 That too. So? Are you free?

yourhandle Oh, totally free. Let me just clear my very busy schedule of pretending to have my life together. Where are you, anyway?

carlossainz55 Mallorca. Family stuff. You?

yourhandle Monaco. Basically living in Charles’ yacht at this point. You know, as one does. Mostly trying to avoid being swallowed by the summer rumor mill

There’s a long pause. You can practically hear him doing the mental math.

carlossainz55 Okay, so… two-hour flight? That’s nothing. I can be there by dinner

yourhandle Carlos, are you seriously suggesting flying across countries for a booty call?

carlossainz55 I’ve done more for less

yourhandle This is why the planet’s dying

carlossainz55 Okay, okay. Saving the dolphins. What’s the eco-friendly option here?

You roll your eyes, fully expecting the next message to be ridiculous.

And, of course, it doesn’t disappoint.

carlossainz55 Phone sex

yourhandle I’m sorry, what?

carlossainz55 Efficient. Sustainable. Zero emissions. It’s the responsible choice

yourhandle Carlos, do you even know how phone sex works?

carlossainz55 No, but I’m adaptable. Like learning a new track. Same principles

yourhandle You did NOT just compare dirty talk to racing strategies

carlossainz55 Why not? Both require focus, timing, and precision. And confidence, of course

You groan, half in disbelief, half because you’re genuinely entertained.

yourhandle Carlos, this is absurd. You’re absurd

carlossainz55 Absurdly charming

yourhandle Absurdly something, that’s for sure

carlossainz55 So? Are we doing this? Or are you too chicken?

You laugh, shaking your head, still not sure how you ended up here— bantering with a world-famous driver about... phone sex.

You’re almost impressed by how persistent he is.

yourhandle Carlos, I swear, you’re something else.

carlossainz55 I know. It’s a gift

---

Carlos is nervous.

He shouldn’t be.

He’s Carlos Sainz Jr—cool under pressure, smooth behind the wheel, and cocky enough to make people swoon without lifting a finger.

Yet here he is, pacing his room like a lovesick teenager, nerves coiling tighter with each passing second.

Why is he nervous?

He already knows the answer— Because it’s you.

Because for the past week, you’ve been haunting his every waking thought.

Every stolen moment has been spent thinking about the way your lips had parted for him, the way your eyes had rolled back when he sank deep inside you, the way your voice, breathless and wrecked, had gasped his name like it was your favorite prayer.

He’s pathetic, really.

Fisting his cock every night like some horny rookie, chasing memories of you that refuse to fade.

He remembers every little detail too vividly.

Your soft whimpers, the flush of your cheeks, the dazed way you’d looked up at him with a mixture of awe and need.

It’s seven minutes until your scheduled call.

Scheduled.

Like this is some professional meeting and not an invitation to lose his mind over you through a goddamn phone.

He swears under his breath, rubbing a hand over his face as he feels the familiar heat pooling low in his belly.

“Joder,” he mutters, already hard just thinking about you.

He sits back against the headboard, sliding his boxers down his thighs.

His cock springs free, aching and flushed, already leaking like he’s some desperate virgin. He swears again, low and guttural, wrapping his hand around the base as if it’ll calm him down.

It doesn’t.

Carlos spits into his palm, slicking himself up with a firm grip.

His hips twitch at the first stroke, and he hisses through his teeth, already so sensitive he’s on the edge of losing it.

He shuts his eyes, letting his mind drift to you. Fuck. Your pretty little cunt, so tight and wet around him, gripping him like you never wanted to let go.

He can still hear the way you’d moaned his name, sweet and broken, like you couldn’t get enough of him.

He strokes himself harder, his fist moving in slick, desperate pumps.

His breathing grows heavier, each exhale mingled with a groan as his hips lift to meet his hand.

“Good girl,” he mutters, his voice low and rough, the words slipping out without thought.

His mind is full of you.

How perfect you’d looked when he’d buried his face between your thighs, your legs trembling as he devoured you.

He remembers the way you’d begged for him, the way your fingers had tugged at his hair as he licked and sucked until you fell apart.

“Fuck,” he groans, his pace quickening. His free hand grips the sheets, knuckles white as he imagines your face again.

Your lips parted, your expression blissful and wrecked as he pushed you over the edge.

He’s close, teetering on the edge of release, his cock throbbing in his fist.

“Such a good girl,” he slurs, his hips bucking uncontrollably. “Taking me so well—mierda—just like that...”

The thought of your cunt fluttering around him, your breathy cries echoing in his ears, pushes him over.

With a guttural groan, he spills over his hand, thick ropes of cum painting his stomach as he rides out his high.

His chest heaves as he comes down, the pleasure fading and leaving behind a warm haze and just a little shame.

He stares at the mess he’s made, breathing heavily as he mutters a soft curse.

And then the phone buzzes. Your name lights up the screen.

Carlos firmly believes that every man has a refractory period, it's simple biology.

But as his cock twitches at the sight of your name lighting up his phone screen, he starts to question everything he’s ever known.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly he hardens again, his body responding to you like you’ve got some magical hold over him.

He huffs out a breath, staring down at the mess he’s made on his stomach, the sticky evidence of how utterly gone he is for you.

With a shaky hand, he answers the call.

His voice comes out softer, more composed than he feels. “Hey.”

Your reply is immediate, and the sound of your voice sends another jolt straight to his cock. “Hey.”

Carlos clenches his jaw, fighting the urge to whine. His body’s so sensitive it aches.

“You nervous?” he asks, his tone laced with a teasing edge to hide how wrecked he feels.

“A little,” you admit, your voice breathy.

He exhales through his nose, his lips quirking up into a smirk. “Then let’s fix that, shall we?”

—

There’s a pause, and then he murmurs, “Do you mind if I take the lead, sweetheart?”

You bite your lip, heat pooling low in your belly at the pet name. “No, Carlos.”

“Good girl.” The words roll off his tongue, slow and deliberate, and you feel the throb of need between your legs intensify.

“Are you in your underwear right now?” he asks, his voice dropping to a low rumble.

You glance down at yourself, cheeks flushing. “Mhm...”

“Tell me what they look like.”

“They’re red,” you whisper, your voice shy.

Carlos grins, his tone playful. “My favorite color. Take them off for me, baby.”

Your breath hitches, and you slip them off, letting them fall to the floor.

“Are you wet for me?” he asks, his voice husky.

“Very,” you admit, your cheeks burning.

“Let me hear.”

You hesitate, unsure how to respond. “How do I-?”

Carlos chuckles, the sound deep and rich. “Slip a finger in, baby. Let me hear how soaked you are for me.”

You inhale shakily, doing as he says.

The moment your finger slides in, you let out a soft whimper.

It’s not enough.

It’s nowhere near enough.

“Fuck,” Carlos groans, the sound making your pussy clench. “You are wet. God, baby, I’d kill to be there right now. All those pretty juices going to waste... I’d lick you clean.”

You whine at his words, your hips shifting against your hand as you try to chase the feeling.

“I know, I know,” he soothes, though his voice is strained, like he’s holding himself back. “Start moving that finger, sweet girl.”

You obey, your breath hitching as you pump your finger slowly. It’s good, but it’s not enough. Not compared to Carlos.

“Carlos,” you whimper, your voice breaking. “Please...”

His laugh is soft, teasing. “Need more?”

“Yes,” you gasp, your hips bucking into your hand. “Yes, please-”

“Okay, baby. Add another finger for me.”

You do, slipping in another finger with a hiss. The stretch feels better, but it still pales in comparison to what you really want.

“Thank you,” you mewl, your head tipping back against the pillow as you fuck yourself slowly.

Carlos groans, his hand wrapping around his cock again, unable to stop himself. “That’s it, baby. Fuck yourself for me. Let me hear those pretty little sounds.”

Your thighs tremble as you press your palm harder against your aching clit, your hips rolling instinctively.

The heat pooling low in your belly is unbearable, and every tiny movement sends sparks racing across your skin.

On the other end of the phone, Carlos has been quiet, but you can hear it, his uneven breathing, the faint hitch in his breath that tells you he’s not unaffected.

You let out a soft, broken moan, unable to keep quiet, and his breath catches audibly.

“Are you…” Your voice is trembling, slurred with need as you choke out the words, “…are you touching yourself?”

“Of course I am,” he groans, his voice wrecked. “How could I not? Fuck, you’ve got me so hard I can’t think straight.”

The image of him stroking himself, his cock slick and swollen, his jaw clenched as his chest heaves, sends a rush of heat to your core.

You grind your hips against your palm, pressing harder against your clit as your thighs tremble.

“I wish you were here,” you whimper, your voice breathless. “Wish I could feel you. I’d be so full, Carlos. I’d clench around you so tight, just like this-”

The sound of your stuttered moan nearly sends him over the edge right there.

Each gasp, each whimper, each broken sob of his name over the line is another jolt to his already oversensitive cock.

He’s gripping himself tightly, too tightly, the pain blending with pleasure until he can’t tell where one starts and the other ends.

His grip falters for a moment before he picks up the pace, stroking himself mercilessly despite the ache in his stomach and the burn of overstimulation.

“You sound so fucking good,” he rasps, his voice cracking slightly as he fights to keep it together. “God, I wish I could see you right now- wish I could spread those legs and watch you touch yourself for me.”

Your shaky whimpers only spur him on. “Carlos… I-I’m so close.”

“Yeah?” His tone dips, almost desperate. “You gonna cum for me, sweet girl? Gonna make those pretty little noises when you fall apart?”

You grind your clit against your palm, your back arching as you nod, even though he can’t see you. “Yes- yes, Carlos-”

He groans, his hand faltering slightly as his cock twitches in his grip.

He’s so fucking close, but it’s almost unbearable now, every stroke of his hand sending shocks through his overstimulated body.

“Fuck, I can hear how wet you are,” he grits out, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip to stop the whines threatening to spill out.

“Wish I could taste you. God, I’d bury my face in that pussy and never come up for air.”

You gasp, the sound high-pitched and desperate, and he knows you’re right on the edge.

You can hear the faint, wet sound of his hand moving faster, matching your pace.

“Think about me, baby,” he murmurs, his voice rough and commanding. “Think about how good I’d feel inside you, stretching you, filling you. You’d take me so well, wouldn’t you? So tight, so wet for me.”

The filthy words rip a broken moan from your throat, your hips bucking wildly as you grind against your palm.

“Carlos,” you gasp again, your voice high-pitched and desperate.

“Come for me,” he whispers, his voice wrecked and raw. “Be a good girl and let me hear you fall apart. Let me hear how much you fucking need me.”

The moment your cries reach their peak, his hips buck involuntarily, his cock pulsing painfully in his hand.

“Carlos!” you scream, your voice cracking as you tumble over the edge.

Hearing his name on your lips like that almost breaks him. His body is trembling, his stomach tight, and the overstimulation is nearly unbearable.

He grits his teeth, his hand still moving as he chases his own release. “Fuck- fuck, baby, you sound so good- so perfect-”

Carlos can barely breathe now. His hand is slick with his own cum from earlier, and every stroke feels like fire, but he can’t stop. He won’t stop.

“God, you’re gonna kill me,” he groans, his voice shaking. “I’m so fucking close- fuck, I can’t-”

His words cut off as his orgasm crashes over him, his vision going white as his cock pulses in his hand.

It’s too much, way too much, but he strokes himself through it anyway, biting back the sobs of pleasure-pain threatening to escape.

When he finally collapses back against the pillows, utterly wrecked, he hears your soft, breathy laughter on the other end of the line. "Are you okay?"

Carlos exhales shakily, his chest still heaving as the aftershocks ripple through him. He wipes a hand over his face, his body buzzing and completely wrecked, but he manages to keep his voice even as he speaks.

"Yeah," he lies, his tone almost too casual. "Just… pent up, I guess."

The truth, though, is that he’s fried. His hand aches, his cock is oversensitive, and his nerves feel like they’ve been set on fire.

But he’d go through it all again, every unbearable second, just to hear the way you came undone for him.

“So,” he asks after a beat, breaking the heavy silence. “How’d I do? Be honest. I can take it.”

There’s a pause on your end, followed by a soft laugh that makes his chest tighten. “Was that really your first time?”

He snorts, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “I mean, yeah. First time on the phone, anyway. Not my first time… y’know.”

“Uh-huh,” you tease, and he can hear the smirk in your voice. “Because you sounded like a pro. Like, suspiciously good.”

“Suspiciously good?” he echoes, feigning offense. “I’m just naturally talented, thank you very much.”

“You’re definitely talented,” you admit, your voice soft and warm. “Very good.”

He grins, letting the compliment settle into his chest like a warm weight. “Thank you,” he says, a little smug.

Then, without missing a beat, he adds, “Now, clean yourself up and drink some water.”

“Bossy,” you shoot back, laughing.

“Always,” he quips, his grin widening. “And I’ll keep saying it because I care. Hydrate, or I’ll call you again just to nag.”

“Fine, fine,” you relent, your tone playful. “I’ll get some water, but only because you’re so convincing.”

He chuckles, wishing he could actually take care of you.

He imagines bringing you a glass of water, wiping you down gently, maybe even cooking you something if you were hungry.

But he can’t. Not tonight, anyway.

“So,” he says, shifting the conversation, “how’s everything else? What’s new with you?”

You hum, and he listens as you shuffle around, likely cleaning yourself up as instructed. “Not much. Work’s been… chaotic. But in a good way, I guess? Keeps me busy.”

"I know that feeling," he says, grabbing a handful of tissues and grimacing as he cleans up the ridiculous mess pooling on his stomach. He swipes at it with quick, efficient movements, though the sheer volume makes him pause for a second.

"Dios mío," he mutters under his breath, shaking his head.

“The season’s kicking back up soon, and summer training’s been brutal,” he continues, his voice a little strained as he carefully wipes himself clean.

When he reaches lower, the sensitivity makes him wince, a sharp hiss escaping through clenched teeth.

His body’s wrecked, his nerves shot, and he’s not sure if it’s pleasure or pain anymore.

You are definitely not good for his health.

“Brutal, huh?” you tease. “Poor baby. All that fame and fortune must make it so hard to be you.”

“Hey, don’t knock it,” he retorts, laughing. “I’ve got to stay in top shape so I can keep looking good for you.”

“Oh, that’s why?” you shoot back, giggling. “Not, like, for the whole racing thing?”

“That’s just a side gig,” he jokes. “The real goal is impressing you. Obviously.”

You both laugh, the conversation easing into a comfortable rhythm.

He listens to you talk about your day, chiming in with little quips and teasing remarks that make you laugh.

It’s easy, natural, and he almost forgets that you’re miles apart.

Eventually, you yawn softly, and he can hear the tiredness in your voice. “I should let you go,” you say reluctantly.

“Yeah,” he agrees, though the thought of ending the call makes him a little regretful. “Get some rest.”

“You too,” you reply softly. “And Carlos?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For… tonight. For everything.”

His voice softens. “Anytime, baby.”

When the call ends, he stares at the ceiling for a long moment, the silence of his room pressing in around him.

He sighs, running a hand over his face, and mutters to himself, “You’re so fucked, Sainz.”

—-

series taglist :

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[littlelamy]

𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓮𝓼

lamy's note: hi everyone!! sorry for not being as active on this blog. im going to try and post (and answer more asks) from now on!!

rafe’s footsteps were slow, deliberate, the leather of his boots a whisper against the polished floor. he had come home early, the plans he’d canceled clearly secondary to the discovery laid out before him: you, sprawled on the bed, your back arched as your fingers gripped the base of a slick dildo, thighs glistening in the low light, evidence of how long you'd been working yourself, head thrown back, moans filling the space, completely unaware. until now.

the creak of the bedroom door had you freezing, eyes snapping open to meet his piercing gaze. his lips curled into a slow, dangerous smirk, the kind that promised trouble.

"well, well," rafe drawled, voice low and gravelly. "couldn't wait for me, huh? decided to be a greedy little slut all by yourself."

"I—" you stammered, cheeks flushing with heat, but the words died as he strode toward the bed, his presence overwhelming. he grabbed the toy still buried in your soaked cunt and yanked it free, making you gasp at the sudden emptiness.

"you're dripping," he said, his tone a mixture of amusement and reprimand. he ran the tip of the dildo along your folds, teasing, before tossing it aside like it was worthless. "this is what you need? some plastic junk? i'll show you what you need."

before you could respond, his hands were on you, flipping you onto your stomach with effortless strength. his weight pinned you down as his fingers probed your slickness, one thrusting inside with ease, then another, his thumb circling your clit.

"you're so wet for me," rafe murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "but i think we can do better. i think all these holes of yours need attention tonight."

rafe’s eyes roved over your quivering body, stretched out beneath him like a banquet he was starving to devour. he licked his lips, dragging his gaze from the glistening mess between your thighs to the dildo discarded beside you. a chuckle rumbled low in his throat, dark and wicked.

"you’re insatiable, aren’t you?" his voice was thick with mockery and hunger. he reached for the slick, glistening toy, still wet from your arousal, holding it up as if to inspect it. "did this little thing really satisfy you? or were you just getting started?"

you whimpered, squirming under his intense scrutiny, but his hand was already on your hip, pinning you firmly in place. "rafe, i—"

"you don’t get to talk right now," he growled, cutting you off as he shifted onto the bed, positioning himself behind you. his large hand slid down your back, forcing an arch in your spine. "you think you can touch yourself like this and not get caught? oh, baby, we’re doing things my way now."

the cool tip of the dildo pressed against your slick entrance again, teasing, but instead of thrusting it where you expected, he dragged it lower, smearing your wetness between the cheeks of your ass. your breath hitched as the realization hit, and you wriggled in his grip, but his hand clamped down harder, holding you still.

"stay. fucking. still." his voice was a command, laced with promise. "you’re gonna take this, and you’re gonna thank me for it."

you trembled, biting your lip, anticipation mixing with trepidation as the tip of the dildo pressed against the tight ring of your ass. rafe’s other hand spread you wider, his thumb stroking possessively along your skin. he leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear. "relax, baby. let me in. i know you can handle it."

with a deliberate push, the dildo breached your tightness, the stretch making you gasp. rafe groaned low, watching the way your body resisted, then surrendered to him. "fuck, look at that," he murmured, almost to himself. "taking it so well. such a good girl for me."

he pushed it deeper, slow and relentless, until the toy was buried halfway. the burn mixed with pleasure, and you couldn’t stop the moan that spilled from your lips. rafe’s grin widened, his free hand slipping around to toy with your dripping folds, fingers finding your clit and stroking it in lazy circles.

"see? you’re already loving this," he taunted, his voice a seductive growl. "your greedy little body just needs to be stuffed full, doesn’t it?"

he twisted the dildo, making you cry out, your back arching further. "you can scream if you want. no one’s here to save you. no one but me, and i’m not done with you yet."

as the toy slid deeper, he leaned back, taking in the sight of you completely at his mercy. his cock strained against his jeans, the image of you stuffed with the toy making him throb painfully. "this is just the start, baby," he promised, fingers still working your clit. "by the time i’m done with you, you won’t know what it feels like to be empty."

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