#im still MAD AT YOU BLOCKED THIS SECOND

[mamawasatesttube]

It’s wild to me how people think Kon is the mentally stable one in timkon’s relationship, like they’re both equally fucked up, but Kon’s anguish is just swept under the rug and never touched again or played off as a joke, while Tim’s grief and mental issues get entire arcs

i mean i do think it's a good thing that tim does have acknowledgment of his issues in the text, ideally both of them would get that, etc. but also i to be entirely frank with you, i don't think the issue is that kon comics tend to brush off the horrors. i just don't think most of the people who perpetuate it in fandom this have actually read any of kon's comics to begin with lmao

[lucigraves]

Maybe... just maybe, if you're spending more time making long posts about hypothetical people getting mad at the content you're creating, than you are actually making the content... you're not very good at curating your own online space, and on top of that, you're risk making the people who do follow you for your content feel like you care more about the people that dislike your content.

[mayoiayasep]

yatora yaguchi when i fucking get you

[luveline]

hellooo!! im not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this but i was wondering if you could write for tasm!peter where the reader just got her wisdom teeth removed and she’s all loopy on anesthetics and forgets peter is her boyfriend? i saw this video where this girl got her wisdom teeth pulled and forgot she was dating her boyfriend and fell in love with him all over again😭😭

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR7sGQo5/

thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k

"Here she is," the nurse says gently, walking you out with his arm behind your back. "Alright, say hi to Peter." 

"Hi, Peter," you mumble, eyes on the floor. 

Peter grins at you, worry warm at the back of his throat. "Hey. Is that everything?" he asks, nodding at the nurses paper bag of aftercare. 

"Everything you'll need." The nurse helps Peter take over, hoisting your arm over his shoulders before stepping away. "Alright, feel better, okay? And don't hesitate to call if something comes up. We're here to look after you." 

You seem appreciative in your fog, but it's hard to tell. Peter curls his arm around your hip and gives it a soft rub as he leads you to the stairs. Whoever devised the floor plan here had murder on their mind —the second floor is completely inaccessible. Luckily, Peter has a lot of strength at his disposal. 

You can feel it. "Woh, you're strong," you murmur. 

"You know that already." His grip on you tightens, pretty much carrying you down the tight staircase. 

"Do I?" you ask. You make a sound like you're hurting, a squeak. 

"I'd hope so." At the end of the staircase, he sits you down, worried you're not feeling well. "You okay? I can princess carry you if you need me to." 

You look at him with wide eyes. He turns to check there's no one standing behind him, but you're really looking at him. "What?" he asks, touching your knee, imploring. "You look like you've seen a ghost." 

"You're Peter?" you ask. 

Ah, the amnesiac effect of anaesthetic. His touch turns comforting, stroking your thigh with as much care as he can drive into his palm alone. "That's me. Hey, if you're forgetting me, does that mean you're not mad at me for last Friday anymore? 'Cos I know you said you forgive me but I can tell it still pisses you off–" 

Your eyes fall to his hand. "Why would I be mad at you?" you ask. 

"I finished the milk and put the carton back in the fridge, even though I promised I'd stop doing it. You see the jug and think there's milk left. We were gonna have macaroni and cheese..." He nudges your fingers with his. "Are you okay? You don't look like yourself."

"What do I usually look like?" 

"Not so, you know. Daunted." 

"You're really handsome," you whisper, refusing to meet his eye. 

"Oh, you think so?" 

You nod like your head is too heavy. You're embarrassed, you sweetheart, oh my god Peter could cry into your lap. 

"Let's get you to the car, baby." 

"Where are we going?" The gauze gives you the world's most adorable lisp, and it turns your gasp into a hum as Peter stands you up. 

"Home." 

"Together?" 

"Yeah, we live together. It's a nice place, and you're a great decorator, you know? It's cozy." 

"Thank you," you say shyly. 

You're not not shy with him, but it's been a long time since you got so quiet over a practically innocuous comment. He wants to see how you'll react to real compliments, over the top stuff that he one hundred percent means. It's a little mean, but when will you ever be like this again? 

He helps you out past the desk and onto the street to your car where it's parked a half a block down. "Don't worry about all this, okay? I'm gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart. There's an ice pack and a brand new comforter with your name on it waiting at home." Peter smiles at your starry eyes as they flash to his, amazed at his simple plans. "How does that sound, beautiful? Is there anything you want before we head home? Anything that would make you feel better?" 

"You're gonna take care of me?" you ask breathlessly. 

"That's my job. That's my number one boyfriend duty." 

"You're my boyfriend?" 

"I am!" he says happily, laughing as he speaks. "For a while. I've been trying to take things further but you're always really shy about getting married–" 

"You want to get married? To me?" 

Peter presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "You're the only person I'd ever want to get married to. We already picked the flowers–" 

"We did?" 

He laughs again, all your questions. He loves regular you but loopy you is especially endearing. "Last time I got super drunk, yeah. You never let me forget it." 

"So you love me?" you ask, stopping short.

"I love you so much," he says immediately, hugging you into his side. He dots another kiss against the top of your head. "You should remember that even if you don't remember me." 

"I love you," you say quietly. 

Peter doesn't know if that's your memory returning, or if you've fallen in love with him in the last fifteen minutes. He could easily fall in love with you that quickly, and yet he's still amazed at your confession. 

"That's good. That's great. Thank you, sweetheart," he says, desperate to hold your face in his hands but weary of causing you future pain. "There's your car," —he points, lowering his head to yours to make sure you can see it, hand now protectively held between your shoulder blades— "let's go home now. Yeah?" 

You start walking again at his requests. He can pretty much see the steam rising off of your face, giddy with happiness at these revelations. You're together, you're in love, and you think he's handsome. He wonders what you'll have to say about his biceps in this state of delirium; you go crazy for his arms sober. 

Which reminds him. 

"I totally have another secret to tell you," he says, unlocking the car as you approach and helping you into the passenger seat. 

"What is it?" you ask. 

Peter closes you in and skirts around the door, climbing into the driver's seat. He's glad that New York is as ridiculously loud as ever, because not even the closed doors or your sodden gauze can smother the way you shriek.

"My boyfriend is Spider-Man?!" 

[chuulyssa]

jealous monster trio + law and ace x reader

a/n. not proofread!! i wrote this on my phone in the middle of watching a movie ong. idk why there aren't many dialogues in ace and law's part, but im lowkey pleased with how everything turned out

tags. fluffy fluff fluff, established relationship

crack tags. sanji gets a nosebleed (again), sanji tries to steal you away, sanji (that's it, that's the warning), marco bepo and robin are the best matchmakers, nami robs someone 😴

luffy wasn't the type to be overly possessive about the things he liked. growing up with two brothers, he had learned to share all mundane things in his life; his clothes, his blanket, even his toothbrush.

but not you.

luffy didn't understand the feeling that was developing in the pit of his stomach at the sight of you working out with zoro in the crow's nest. it was nice to stay healthy, right? that was what he had thought when he saw you reject his offer to play board games with him. he watched you walk away and up to the crow's nest where the swordsman practically lived, and sulkily climbed his special seat on the head of the sunny.

"oi, luffy! come down," usopp called out from the deck, and he glanced at the latter. "robin's telling us another story of the ancient civilizations of the west blue!"

"i'm not in the mood," luffy shouted back, still gazing wistfully at you.

he watched your face contort into one of pain when you moved to do the crunches, and zoro laughed at you before showing you how to breathe in the position as you lifted yourself back up.

"are you sure? i think you're just hungry!" usopp called again. "robin said we can have some of the special pancakes sanji made for her."

luffy stared back at his friend, his eyebrows furrowing as he thought hard. soon after, he yelled back, "i'll come down, give me one second!"

as you got back up from the crunch you were performing, you saw a long arm on the glass wall of the room and nearly screamed. luffy accidentally slammed his face into the wall, his cheeks comically enlarged as he spoke something incoherent to you. zoro rolled his eyes from beside you.

"i think he's saying break time is over. you've gotta go deal with him now."

.

zoro was rather secure in your relationship. he didn't mind it when other people commented about how nice you are, or about how pretty you look. he let it all slide, seeing as he knew all of the comments were true, and you deserved to know that. so he wasn't one to get mad when such things happened.

except when it came to the idiot cook.

it had been almost fifteen minutes past your usual time and you still hadn't shown up. zoro had gritted his teeth in the middle of a set and set out to find you. it didn't take him long, however, to figure out what was keeping you.

"my dear y/n, you must listened to this acoustic poem i have written in your name," the cook had one of your hands in his, blocking your way up to the crow's nest.

"i'm sure it's lovely, sanji, but i'm in a hurry right now--"

"ah, where, i wonder, must i look to find another beauty such as yourself--?"

"oi, cook! buzz off, will ya? no one wants you around," zoro's voice came from upstairs, and you turned to look at him.

the cook glared at him from behind you, but immediately pouted wistfully when you turned back at him. "don't say that, 'ro," you scolded, and the cook's face lit up at your words, eyes gleaming at the sight of zoro's annoyed look.

"i said what i said," zoro walked downstairs, twirling a strand of your hair around his fingers when he reached you. "buzz off, prince of the perverts."

.

sanji is a little bit of an idiot. insecurity runs in his veins, and thus so does jealousy. you would have felt bad for him too, had he not been making you feel the same way since day one.

his face streamed with tears as he followed you around the marketplace. a few minutes earlier, you had caught him shooting to the sky with a nosebleed because of some poor woman's smile. he had landed right at your feet, the sight momentarily disarming you before you kicked his frame out of the way to walk.

it had been about half a minute of you ignoring him and he was on his hands and knees, begging for you to spare a glance at him. you would have felt bad, had this not been the fiftieth time in a week. you instead chose to turn to usopp, who had grown to learn to ignore sanji and his antics around women ever since they first met at the baratie. sanji's ears turned a bright red at your movement, and he clinged even harder at you

the two of you silently agreed to not wait for nami while she was busy robbing civilized people in a restaurant, and sped up at the looks the passersby were giving sanji, who was practically hanging onto your waist right now.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, angel, i know that's not gonna cut it but i beg for your humble forgiveness, i will not ever-"

"how do you deal with this moron?" usopp whispered to you, and you whispered back an "i don't know".

sanji kept mumbling things into your hips and pressing soft kisses into your waist, until you gave in when chopper hurried up to where you were, polaroids of your smile hanging around his neck; your boyfriend was just in rehab!

.

ace didn't think you looked half as good with anyone else but him. that is another way to say, he couldn't stand anyone who was within a certain radius from you. he wouldn't talk about it at all, and whenever you would bring it up he would play dumb.

but he hated it; not in a you're-mine-and-belong-to-me way but more in a im-just-a-boy-who-needs-external-validation-to-exist kinda way.

so he didn't like the way you were the only 'daughter' in whitebeard's crew among all the 'sons' who spoke about you like you were a trophy. he didn't like how you were placed under marco's division and not his. he didn't like how both whitebeard and marco laughed at him whenever they caught him looking at you.

after a particularly rough mission, the first division was having a blast with all the treasure they had managed to get back. ace looked at you with a longing pout on his face, about ten feet away from you. you were laughing with thatch at the moment, and he was busy fantasizing about how you would react if he carried you into your shared room on his shoulder, kissed the back of your nape and sucked hickeys to spell his name on your neck--

marco slapped the back of his head and his face fell into his plate with a loud crash.

"thank me later," marco said, eyes unwavering as the man in front of him fell asleep face-first into a plate full of food.

he went away as ace woke up shortly after, his face covered in curry, with men laughing at and mimicking him, but among all of them, his ears only heard the sound of your laughter before you quickly got up to hand him tissues.

.

law did not care. or at least, he pretended not to. after all, it had taken multiple tantrums from bepo to get him to confess to you, and even then he had made it clear he was not a fan of whatever you might have thought to be an 'ideal, loving relationship'.

that was, until today, when you had learned just how far you had to push his buttons to transform him into a romantic man. you could feel law's gaze on you as you laughed at whatever dumb thing luffy had just said, but when you turned around, he was busy conversing with robin about who knows what. once again, you turned to luffy, felt weird, turned back and saw nothing. for every minute you talked to the straw hat about something, you could feel law breathing down your neck, albeit in a subtle manner that no one but you seemed to catch.

"law," you finally came up to him, and he looked up at you as if he hadn't for ages. "is something wrong?"

"what makes you think so?" he challenged, and you could feel robin chuckle next to him. after shooting her a perplexed look, you shrugged and walked back to where the group was having fun, staying a bit closer to chopper this time, for luffy's safety.

it wasn't until the two of you had retreated back to your shared room for the night that you had realised what you felt had not been a hoax. law was on you the moment you lay next to him on the bed, nuzzling up to you and pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and cheeks.

you were confused, to say the least, but you had a faint suspicion that this strange side of law was the idea of a certain archaeologist.

[artdcnaldson]

patrick hive to the rescue because im thinking, as i often do, about friends to lovers with patrick where you're kind of upset because he and art have gotten around and you're still struggling on the dating scene, maybe you're shy, probably you just have standards, and its really just all starting to bug you because you're worked up!!!!! imagine hanging out with patrick during the summer - the room is sticky with humidity, despite the air conditioning being on full blast. you're hot and irritated and sexually frustrated. patrick being half clothed isn't helping, either - you can see the gleam of sweat on his bare chest - the dusking of hair on his thick thighs as he lounges back with a cigarette. you're going mad, it feels like you could detonate at any second your clit is so on fire - throbbing and achey and everytime you press you sweat slick thighs together it makes it worse.

patrick is looking at his phone - so you take the chane - just a small touch - just for some relief. you're on the bed, there's a plushi blocking his view - it cant hurt just to slide a sneaky hand down the band of your shorts and panties. just to stroke your swollen slit. surely he wont noitce if you just...... rub yourself a little. while you sneak glances at his toned body - just peeks, really. if you're very quiet (you do realize the sticky squelch of your cunt can be heard across the room, right? you dont) you might even be able to cum undetected

GODDDDD FUCK!!!! This was supposed to be a chill, normal, short response. Instead I ignored 2 work calls bc it’s that serious.

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (exibitionism/voyeurism, f!masturbation, not fingering but a secret third adjacent thing, extreme levels of horniness)

A/N: Patrick Hive we Linked and Built <3

Patrick thought it was so sweet that you invited him to visit your home for the summer. Apparently you’d sung nothing but his praises to your parents, because even though you were both eighteen, they let him sleep on the floor of your room on a blow up mattress, trusting him that much.

Which was annoying. You weren’t fucking Patrick (not for lack of wanting to), but they could’ve at least given you the benefit of the doubt and assumed that you might have some sort of sexual urges. It made your stupid fucking celibacy that much more embarrassing.

You’re home alone with him and the power’s out— a stupid, heat-induced rolling blackout. The open window only seems to usher in more hot summer air, so you’re both down to as few layers as would be appropriate. You, were down to a thin T-shirt and your panties. Patrick was only in a pair of grey nylon shorts. Sweat was beading down his bare chest, which was so fucking unfair.

Because it was Patrick, whose chest hair and happy trail made your mouth fill with drool any time you were treated to the sight of it. It was summer, and he was frequently shirtless, and you still hadn’t gotten used to the sight. Any sane person would want to lave their tongue along his chest, tasting the sweat and salt of his skin. That was… so totally normal to think about.

Patrick fucked your neighbor— the cute one who was going to a state school so she could be a kindergarten teacher. You didn’t know, but you were pretty sure. You’d been swimming in the pool during a cul-de-sac cookout, and they’d disappeared after a while. Patrick didn’t say anything that night, probably to protect your delicate sensibilities, but you could just kind of sense it.

God, it was unfair. All of the guys your age had girlfriends, or something. And the single ones were cute, but Patrick always seemed to fuck things up for you, either actively, or because you would always wind up talking about him. And because your parents thought it was totally fine for him to sleep in your room, you were surviving off of weak, rushed orgasms in the shower.

It was supposed to be a fun, sexy summer before you went off to college, and Patrick was totally ruining it. How was it fair that he got to fuck around and get his rocks off while you spent your summer feeling like you were wearing a fucking chastity belt?

And you were so wet it was uncomfortable, sticky between your thighs with absolutely no relief. Patrick was sitting on the fucking Air mattress, propped up by your cute, pink pillows and plushies that he’d stolen, watching a rerun of The Hills on MTV. His hand dangled out the open bedroom window so the smell of smoke wouldn’t get stuck in your innocent little bedroom.

He stretched, and you watched with an open mouth as he blew the cigarette smoke out the window. Pretty fucking lips, his muscles all taut as he turned. He looked back at the TV, and you exhaled a shaky breath. Fuck, you were so turned on you wanted to scream. Your pussy was just drooling into your panties, clit throbbing and aching for attention, your entire body felt empty, desperate to be filled up.

You were practically buried in your stuffed animal collection, which was embarrassing on any other day (Patrick had nearly laughed at the sight, but you’d insisted that you couldn’t just throw all of them away… they were nostalgic), but you’d never been more grateful until that moment.

You were already pretty well covered, thanks to the near life size bear sitting beside you— the perfect safety net. Your pulse was thundering in your chest, making you feel a little dizzy with anxiety or arousal, or a strange new mix of both.

You were burning hot between your thighs— throbbing and soaked all sticky and slick. Your legs twitched instinctively as your fingertips dipped into your core, where a pool of your arousal awaited. A shaky gasp escaped you as you moved your slick fingers up to your neglected clit, and you quickly muffled the noise into your pillow

It was like you’d never really touched yourself before. The level of need and desperation within you was completely unknown until that point. Your eyes rolled back as you began grinding up against your fingers. Your teeth dug into your lip to stay quiet as you played with your clit as discreetly as you could.

Patrick shifted to get more comfortable. Flexing his thighs just slightly, rubbing sweaty palms against the muscles there. He ashed his cigarette with his gaze locked on the TV. “This shit is so boring,” he muttered.

And fuck, his voice. You considered arguing with him, just so he’d get louder, and his voice would get more intense, and you’d be able to fuck yourself to completion to the sound of him speaking.

Your poor, neglected pussy clenched around absolutely nothing, begging to be filled by his dick, his fingers, your fingers, a toy, a hairbrush, fucking anything. Your panties were absolutely sodden— drenched to the point of forming a transparent little spot right above your cunt.

If Patrick had looked over, or, if he had unfocused his eyes just right and peered into the reflection of the TV screen, he would’ve been able to make out the sight of your fingers, moving steadily, desperately against your clit. If he had done that.

Your toes curled just slightly, thighs closing around your hand as you got closer and closer. It was loud— just how much you were moving. You needed— god, you needed so much in that moment. You grabbed a random plushie— a pink rabbit that you probably got with that years’ Easter basket— and held it over your lap. Yeah, that worked. Super casual, perfect way to hide the way your hand was working your clit.

And the pressure. Jesus Christ, the pressure of the warm stuffed animal over your cunt was too nice to resist. You’d have to throw it away after, you knew, but you couldn’t help but grind yourself up against it. If you closed your eyes, you could imagine it was his lap, or his thigh, or something warm and soft and hard for you to rut against.

But you couldn’t close your eyes, because you had to watch Patrick. To make sure he didn’t know what you were doing. An arm slung behind his head, the muscles highlighted by the shiny sheen of sweat there. You whimpered pathetically, muffled into the pillows. He probably heard, he pretended he didn’t. It was that level of feigned ignorance that let you keep going.

He probably knew, you could pretend he didn’t. The razor’s edge between you and a much needed, earth-shattering orgasm hinged on that level of ignorance.

So you pathetically humped against your fingers, and the stuffed rabbit, and chased at the bliss that was so fucking close you could taste it like metal on your tongue. Your thighs squeezed around the rabbit as you came, soaking through and making even more of a mess of your panties, and the rabbit, and your sheets, and your fingers.

You hadn’t realized how loud you were breathing. It was like someone had been holding you underwater and you could only just now hear the world with a shocking sense of clarity. Your body felt hot all over, your legs felt like jelly. You hid the stuffed rabbit beneath a discarded blanket, a problem for later. Legs crossed so you could hide the soaked mess between your legs.

Sure, you could play that off.

“You could’ve asked me to leave,” Patrick said around his cigarette. There was a twist to his lips, a sense of amusement. “Nah, you probably didn’t want me to. Too busy eye fucking me while you defiled that poor little bunny.”

He stood, noticeably hard in his shorts, which you weren’t looking at weren’t looking at weren’t looking at. He grabbed your ankles and pulled your legs apart, all while wearing the smug sort of expression that got you to this position in the first place. Really, it was all his fault. His eyes trailed up your legs, to the glistening mess coating your upper thighs, and the sheer mess of your panties.

“Huh.” His hands moved up your thighs and you exhaled shakily, parting them more to accommodate him, whatever he wanted, whatever he was thinking. You could come a thousand more times just for him, at his every whim. But that was the repression talking, not just because of him.

Your breath caught as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties and he peeled them down. His expression held the same sort of concentration that you saw him exhibit on the court. Focused on you, it made your heart pound.

“No wonder you were so loud, huh?” He teased, fingers gliding through your slit. It was embarrassing how wet you were, coating his fingers and palm in your arousal. Each light brush against your clit made your thighs twitch, made a desperate keen escape you. “I could hear it the second you started, by the way. But even before that, I could fucking smell how turned on you were. You could’ve said something, you know. I would’ve taken care of you, made it real nice.”

You moaned softly, eyes wide as you peered up at him. When he removed his hands from your pussy you fucking whined— pouting as he held his fingers up to the light and grinned at the glistening mess left behind. You watched those fingers disappear between plush lips, tongue sweeping out to clean them up. His cock jumped behind the shorts he wore from want.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” you insisted, sitting up to rub him through the fabric. “It’s hot, we’re both horny and bored. Just use me. It’ll feel nice.”

He didn’t take much convincing. He’d been rubbing his dick raw on that stupid fucking inflatable mattress every night when you were asleep anyway. How could he not? You were just too adorable.

@poppy-metal your mind amazes me no words no thoughts just this <3 thank youuuuuu for this in my inbox it truly kept me fed

[marlenesluv]

Keep It Private. Part 2. (DR)

summary: just some more of you and daniel not being able to keep it in your pants on instagram

warnings: suggestive content

note: i wasn’t gonna make a part 2, but my posts have been getting a lot of love (thank you sm) and you guys seemed to rly like this one! <3 (still trying to reply to comments, but j know i see them all!)

masterlist here -> masterlist link

^ check my list for part 1! ^

liked by: y/n.ricciardo, charles_leclerc, and 1,891,034 others

tagged: y/n.ricciardo

danielricciardo: big win today in the australian grand prix race. thank you to my team, my fans, my friends, family, and pit crew. but i couldn’t have done it without my wife @y/n.ricciardo. i will be giving you so many orgasms later, and many reasons to have you not stand straight. i love you, my lucky charm❤���

view comments…

oscarpiastri: omg daniel, seriously?

|> danielricciardo: yeah😊

f1fanpage: do i say that they are cute? or disgusting for the pda?….

wagsoff1: congratulations, daniel!!

|> y/nanddanfp: you’re skipping over the whole last part…?

|> wagsoff1: trying to pretend i didn’t read it

maxverstappen1: congratulations, daniel!!

|> danielricciardo: thank you! 😁

y/n.ricciardo: daniel omg my mom follows you now😳

|> danielricciardo: i blocked her, she follows my family one though. its okay😊

|> y/n.ricciardo: oh okay. i love youuu

|> danielricciardo: i love you tooo❤️

|> landonorris: it’s almost like you guys don’t have messages to say this to each other?

_______________________________________________

liked by: danielricciardo, lilymhe, and 1,037,956 others

y/n.ricciardo: workout or workout..?🤭

view comments…

francisca.cgomes: you look stunning!💓🫶

|> y/n.ricciardo: thank you kika🥹🫶

f1wags: GOOD LORD THE CAPTION Y/N

danielricciardo: i prefer the second one

|> y/n.ricciardo: what a coincidence! me too!!

|> danielricciardo: im coming home so we can workout rn

|> y/n.ricciardo: YAY

f1updates: you GUYS😳

georgerussell63: the only couple i know without a filter

|> carmenmmundt: they make it work, they’re hot

|> y/n.ricciardo: ily carmen

|> carmenmmundt: ily too babe

_______________________________________________

Daniels BeReal (friends/grid only):

Caption: How mad would she be if i ate her out even tho she’s working?

Reactions:

Comments:

Lando Norris -> dude….

Charles Leclerc -> on the plane??

|> Daniel Ricciardo -> yeah? so?

|> Charles Leclerc -> seems a bit unsanitary

Carlos Sainz -> what the fuck

Pierre Gasly -> get it, daniel!

|> Daniel Ricciardo -> pierreeeeee

Max Verstappen -> i’m not sure what to say.

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liked by: danielricciardo, landonorris, and 1,200,248 others

y/n.ricciardo: congratulations, baby. p1 in australia, our beautiful home country. couldn’t have asked for a better way to celebrate your win ❤️

view comments…

lilymhe: such an adorable couple, congrats daniel!

|> pierregasly: congratulations, daniel !!!

|> danielricciardo: thank you lily, and thank you pierre! congrats on p2 my man

|> pierregasly: YEAHHHH thanks daniel 🙏

f1wags: my couple goals and inspo

danielricciardo: the real win was making you my wife ❤️

|> y/n.ricciardo: damn straight it was

|> danielricciardo: excuse me? you’re gonna regret that miss

|> y/n.ricciardo: WAIT JK JK

|> danielricciardo: mhmm

formula1updates: congratulations on p1, daniel!!!

y/n.fans: parents are slaying tonight

_______________________________________________

liked by: y/n.ricciardo, arthur_leclerc, and 2,473,815 others

danielricciardo: happy anniversary to the love of my life, my partner, and my favorite person in the world. i don’t know how i would live without you. i love you, and i cant wait to spend the rest of our lives together❤️

view comments…

charles_leclerc: happy anniversary, guys!

|> danielricciardo: thank you, charles!

fanpage.f1: awwwww, happy anniversary🥹

landonorris: happy anniversary, mom and dad☺️

|> y/n.ricciardo: lando🙃🙃

|> danielricciardo: don’t give her baby fever

|> y/n.ricciardo: too late

|> danielricciardo: wanna make one?

*liked by y/n.ricciardo*

georgerussell63: happy anniversary, you two!

|> danielricciardo: thank you!

f1fan: i cant believe you guys have been together for four years already

|> wagsof.f1: four married and eight total with their dating 🥹🥹

y/n.ricciardo: i love you so much❤️❤️

|> danielricciardo: i love you so much too❤️❤️

_______________________________________________

liked by: danielricciardo, carmenmmundt, and 2,013,284 others

y/n.ricciardo: four years ago, you proposed to me while we were at dinner with your friends…translation: four years ago, you made me the happiest, luckiest, and the most loved person in the universe. i cant believe that i’m able to say you’re mine. and now i present my lockscreen for these past four years. i love you more than words can explain, my love❤️

view comments…

pierregasly: i remember that

|> maxverstappen1: yeah, never thought he would propose

|> carlossainz55: it did take him a while

y/nsfans: the lockscreen picture🥹 we finally know what it is. i can now live in peace

wagsf1: you guys don’t get it, im obsessed with this couple

lilymhe: congratulations!! you guys are perfect for each other💓

|> y/n.ricciardo: thank you, lily🥹💓

danielricciardo: i love you so much, thank you for sticking by my side

|> y/n.ricciardo: 🥹🥹🥹

|> danielricciardo: don’t cry, we haven’t had sex yet you can’t cry

|> oscarpiastri: they can’t even stop on anniversary pictures

_______________________________________________

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

[henry7931]

Freaky Friday Block Part I

In a quiet neighborhood, 40 individuals one Friday morning all woke up in the wrong body. Although, all of them know each other— none of them are sure how or what happened to cause it. So the mystery begins…

Friday 8:00AM

An alarm starts to sound abruptly.

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*

Max:

“Ugh… what time is it?”

*Yawns*

“Wait, what the? Where am I?”

This isn’t my room… my feet they look huge….

Who’s bed am I in? And what’s wrong with my feet?

I climb out of bed and feel my weight hit the ground, my stomp sounds heavier.

I look at my arms, my legs, something isn’t right…

I walk to the door of the strange bedroom I’m in and open it. Looking out in the hallway, it starts to look familiar.

“This is Jacob’s house, what am I doing at Jacob’s?”

Wait my voice? It sounds deeper and has this rasp to it.

I walk into Jacob’s bathroom and turn on the light.

“AHHHHHHHHH!!!”

This can’t be possible. How is this possible? Looking at me in the mirror is… Jacob’s dad, Mr. Thomas.

I splash cold water in my face thinking this may all be a dream but I’m still Mr. Thomas.

I pinch his cheek and the feel slight stubble on his face.

My realization starts to stink in that this is in fact not a dream, I am actually my friend’s dad Daniel Thomas.

I stare into his face taking it all in, Mr. Thomas is a handsome man. At least, I’ve always thought he’s attractive. He’s single with two sons and I’ve never seen him with a woman.

I run his fingers down his arms, flexing his muscles a bit which causes me to giggle.

I repeat back into the mirror, “Hi, I’m Dan Thomas.”

It sounds funny hearing my self control such a deeper voice.

I look down at his chest and then my eyes focus in on his boxer briefs.

Curious, I pull down his boxers and Mr. Thomas’s 10 inch semi hard manhood and huge hairy balls is fully exposed.

“Not bad!” I say checking out his junk from every angle.

I turn around and get a glance of his cute hairy butt. I smack it and start laughing again.

Mr. Thomas is such a serious guy and I never see him act goofy. Making him do things so out of character is kind of a turn on.

I had a moment of fun before coming back to reality. I need to figure out what’s going on and why I’m Mr. Thomas.

But who do I even talk to about this? Should I say something to Jacob or is going to think his dad’s gone mad…

Screw it, I’ll knock on his door.

*Knock Knock*

“Hey Jacob, open up it’s uhh… it’s dad!”

Geez, I’m not good at this.

The door doesn’t open but then I hear a door across the hallway open. It’s Jacob’s little brother.

“Hey dad, what’s up?” he says to me.

“Hey Conner, I was trying to your brother up.”

“Conner? Dad did you just call me Conner?”

All of the sudden, Jacob’s door opens and Jacob is standing at the door.

“What’s going on?” he says with a big yawn.

It takes a second for everything to click but both Conner and Jacob scream on the top of their longs.

“Conner?!??”

“Jacob?!???”

“But… but how?”

“Well I have some news boys, I’m not your dad either. It’s me Max.”

“Max??!??”

Well I guess I’m glad I’m not the only one who woke up as someone else this morning.

Meanwhile Two Houses Down, a guy named Ashton is babysitting his nephew Davy.

Davy:

I woke up feeling weird and for some reason why I’m in Uncle Ash’s bed!

“Uncle Ash?”

Wow! My voice sounds funny!!!

I swing my legs out of bed but then I notice something very different….

My feet look like someone else’s!

I stand up and notice I’m so much closer to the ceiling.

I walk out to the hallway and head to the bathroom.

When I turn on the light, I COULD NOT BELIVE WHAT I SAW!!!

IM UNCLE ASH!!!

I looked in the mirror and couldn’t look away. I’m so much more tall! And hairier?

“Wow Uncle Ash had tattoos?? Cool!”

This is amazing!!! All of my friends are going to be so jealous!!

Wait… if I’m uncle Ash, then who’s me???

Across the street another house with college/ graduate students guys starts to wake up.

Kyle:

“Mhmmm… that feels so good….”

Wait…. My dick feels kinda funny….

“Wow what the fuck?”

My body look didn’t and why the hell am I in Skylar’s room?

I hope out of bed and head to the bathroom.

I know us guys partied last night but I didn’t drink that much to fall asleep in Skylar’s bed.

I get the bathroom and open up the door. Only to find Zeek on the floor with his tongue out.

“Zeek you okay?”

“Woof!”

“What the hell?”

I glance into the mirror only for eyes to get bigger. I see Skylar’s good looking face looking back at me.

Across the street from the Thomas’s house.

Daniel Thomas:

*Yawn*

“Boy that was one of the best sleeps I’ve had in awhile.”

“What a sec.. where am I?”

[confietti]

CAN U WRITE FOR SUKUNA IM BEGGING HJFJFJRR

Never Lose Me

you knew sukuna would kill you if he knew where you were right now, but you didn't care. you had it in your airy little head that he was a cheater because of what one of your 'homegirls' told you.

it all started when you were in your shared apartment laid on the bed scrolling through instagram waiting for 'kuna to come home when your 'friend' sent you a picture of him hugging this girl.

you never were the smartest, so you never second-guessed the photo. you on the other hand immediately broke down into tears. sukuna never liked her and always suggested you get better friends for a reason.

he always got weird vibes from her because she continuously tried to make passes at him whenever you weren't around.

you could only imagine your boyfriend's surprise to get drunken texts and voicemails of you telling him to 'go fuck himself' and how you 'don't need him'.

my supersoaker🫶🏼💞: [ forwarded an image ]

my supersoaker🫶🏼💞: nigga FUCJ you

my supersoaker🫶🏼💞: i thoguth we had somethgin anf you trwest me like thid??? i hste you!

hubby💝: ??? baby? who sent you that???

hubby💝: and are you at the fucking club??

you stared at your phone through teary eyes as you blocked his number and turned off location sharing. you shoved your phone into your purse and continued to drink.

sukuna had been watching from across the bar for probably 20 minutes now. he watched you flirting with the guy you were talking to for maybe the same amount of time. he studied the way you held onto his arm and laughed at all his jokes. it made his blood boil.

“what do you say we take this a step further hm?~” his hand slipped up your thigh and you giggled when he started nibbling on your neck.

“nah fuck this.” your boyfriend slammed his drink on the counter and stormed towards you, angrily shoving people out of the way but he didn't care. his main focus was you.

he didn't say anything as he heaved you over the shoulder like a sandbag, ignoring your protests and the weird looks he got as he exited the bar. he practically threw you in the passenger's seat and locked the door.

the car ride to his house was dead silent. except for your protests and complaints about your boyfriend's behavior.

“Bitch why the fuck did you do all that for?” you stared at him with your arms crossed over your chest in annoyance, glaring at him for an answer that never came.

the rest of the ride was just you looking out the window and light curses underneath your breath of “cheating ass”, “hoe ass”, “worthless ass”.

once you got home, sukuna parked the car and dragged you into his house with a tight grip on your arm.

he walked into his bedroom and threw you down on the bed before locking the door. then sukuna finally spoke after what was hours after not speaking.

“you gonna explain your sudden little tantrum or do i have to fuck the attitude outta you first?”

sukuna chuckled when you still had your arms crossed over your chest, not looking in his direction. your eyes were puffy as you let out little hiccups and sniffles. you were still mad at him for spoiling your fun. how cute.

just then he harshly gripped your chin forcing you to look at him. “it’s really rude to not look people in the eyes when they’re talking to you.”

his hands traveled down to your neck and he squeezed it tightly, you felt a breathy chuckle in your ear before he began to speak.

“so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh ma?”

it was about 20 minutes later and your brain was so foggy to the point where you couldn’t remember how you got into this position.

your boyfriend had you on all fours, one of his hands pulling your hair back into a makeshift ponytail, the other wrapped around your neck pulling your head back to whisper the most disgusting things into your ear.

“you think what you said t’me was nice? you thought it was funny to send me those voicemails and texts while i was working? huh? y’had me worrying my ass off you dumb. fucking. bitch.”

he emphasized those last three words with harsh thrusts, before pulling your head back to tap his fingers at the side of your cheek. “open.” he mumbled before spitting roughly in your mouth. “swallow all that shit.” he spat before shoving your face back into the pillow before you.

he took this time to analyze how small your figure was compared to his. you were so much smaller… so vulnerable… so much easier to manhandle.

sukuna decided to tease you. fucking you slowly, working every inch of his thick cock into your little hole as slowly as he could. he wanted you to memorize every vein and inch. he wanted to make sure you never forget tonight and you should never disobey him ever again.

“wouldn’t have to be this way if you were just a good little girl who followed the rules. tsk.” this had been going on for hours now. the rough fucking, the degradation, even after what? 4 orgasms? he still hasnt had his. you figured out by now that this wasn’t a punishment… he wanted to torture you.

“p-pleasee ryo.. i’m- haa~ s-sorry! wan’ you t’fill me up. please!” he chuckled darkly. “ y’want me to fill you up? huh?” “please! hnghh- m’sorry!” “you never did have any shame did ya hun?”

sukuna’s thrusts began to get sloppier as he was nearing his release. you whimpered for him to slow down as your tear stained face was pressed into the pillow. his balls slapping against your clit with each harsh thrust.

“i won’t f-fuck- i wont slow down. you’re grown, right? if you can go to the bar on your own then you can take this shit like a big girl, right?”

before you knew it hot ropes of cum start spurting out filling your tight cunt. your boyfriend’s thrusts began to slow down until they came to a complete stop.

he slowly pulled out of you, replacing his cock with his fingers to keep his seed in. humming lowly before getting up to get some towels from the bathroom.

you woke up the next morning in his shirt. you tried to get up before feeling an immense pain in your back. you groaned before you felt a large hand rubbing at the small of your back.

“y’wanna talk about your feelings now? if you don’t want too then we can always go for round two. i still have some energy left over.” he smirked down at you.

“also.. this was supposed t’be a surprise but… the girl i was hugging in the picture you sent wasn’t anybody baby. remember when we were apartment shopping and you mentioned you really wanted the one in tokyo?”

you nodded as sukuna pushed some of your hair behind your ear to see your face better.

“it’s ours now.” sukuna thought that nothing could compare to your smile in that very moment as you hugged and peppered kisses across his face while murmuring little ‘thank yous’ in his ear.

“yeah, yeah.” he chuckled and hugged you back. “you could never lose me that easily.”

a/n: thank you so much for this request anon!!! it took me a little while but i really enjoyed writing it. hope you enjoy!! </3!!

© confietti, 2024. do not copy, steal, or repost my content without permission.

[tkaulitzlvr]

Im the type of person that wouldn’t do the silent treatment if Tom got me mad. I would stay out all night and not answer the phone just to make him mad. How would Tom react 👀?

PERSISTENT - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: after a fight with tom, you decide to go out clubbing, much to his annoyance. no matter how many times he calls, you ignore him, bringing him to his own breaking point. and once you come home, he doesn’t plan on going easy on you.

content: angst + mentions of smut, i’ll do a part 2 if u guys want lol

a/n: tom being rough and possessive is so hot like i would purposely piss him off just to see him mad… ANYWAYSS thank u for the req anon!! i’m so sorry if i haven’t done ur request i have like 50 in my inbox so it’s taking me a while but i don’t have an order of how i do them so it’s pretty random what i’ll choose to write but yea pls bare with me!!🙏🙏

“come on, i said i was sorry. you’re being so fucking dramatic.” tom says, standing on the other side of the room as my eyes are fixed on my phone screen, not paying any attention to what he is saying, still liking how the idea of punching his face sounds. he knows that he has fucked up, deciding to forget to show up to my family dinner yesterday, instead rehearsing with the band all day and crashing at bill’s place, not showing up until right now - 8:30pm the next day. and, he had dug himself an even bigger hole, telling me to ‘calm down’ when i expressed my anger towards his incompetence.

“am i?” i mutter sarcastically, refusing to make eye contact. unbeknownst to him, i was texting my friends, making sure that nobody had plans, organising the final details of which bar we would go to, deciding that if tom can stand me up without telling me, then i can go out partying as i please, whether he is aware or not.

he tuts beside me, his slow and tired steps trudging towards me as his figure falls onto the bed, the mattress dipping next to me. he places one hand on my ass, massaging the flesh lightly, his lips meeting my neck as he plants rough, open-mouthed kisses over the skin. i take no notice, continuing to tap the keys of my small smartphone, not at all tempted by his lazy advances.

“please baby…” he mutters against my neck, kissing the skin harshly between his words. “i’m sorry, let me make it up to you, hm? i’ll make you feel so good. just let me touch you princess, you’re so beautiful.”

his shitty attempts to win me over are almost pitiful, my body still as i try to stifle a laugh, a smile spreading across my face as the text that confirms that everyone can make it comes through. i say nothing, detaching tom’s arms from my lower back, getting up from the bed and walking towards the closet, picking out the sluttiest dress that i own, knowing how much tom hates me wearing it.

he watches me from the bed, his eyebrows furrowed, staying silent for a few seconds, yet the second he sees my hands grab hold of that dress, he sits up, his confused voice sounding through the bedroom.

“woah woah woah, what are you doing?” he asks, standing up and moving in front of me, attempting to block my way.

i simply roll my eyes, moving past him and placing the dress on the bed. “going out.” i shrug, my fingers reaching to the hem of my t-shirt, lifting the soft material upwards and over my head, tom watching me do so.

“wearing that? no you’re not.” he scoffs, quickly snatching the dress from the bed and holding it against his chest. i turn around, my upper half now completely bare besides from my bra, tom’s eyes focused on my cleavage, his expression still angry.

“stop playing and give me the fucking dress.” i sigh, holding my hand outwards and trying to snatch it from him.

“you’re not going out. not without me.” he reiterates, his grip on the material staying tight as he looks into my eyes, his tongue poking the inside of his lips.

“yes, i am.” i state, quickly snatching the dress from his hands and running to the bathroom, frantically locking the door before he can get to me, his fists colliding with it as he groans in frustration, a string of curses leaving his lips.

“you’re such a fucking brat, you know that? open the door and quit messing around. this shit isn’t funny.” he yells, repeatedly banging on the door.

however i am too busy slipping the dress onto my figure, adjusting the small straps and brushing my hair into a slick ponytail, applying some extremely rushed makeup, all whilst he continues to shout at me from the other side of the door, pointless apologies and pleads to let him in sounding throughout the bathroom. i hurriedly grab my heels, placing them on my feet and taking one last look at myself in the mirror. i had looked better on nights out, but tonight was about revenge, and whilst i didn’t look my best, i still looked hot. hot enough to drive tom absolutely insane - especially considering that he would have no idea where i was, looking like this all alone his biggest fear, partly out of concern for my safety, but it was mainly because of his jealous tendencies. and whenever i dressed like this, even if he stayed by my side at all times, he became more possessive than ever.

yet right now, i want to make him mad, desperate to get him to the point of utter insanity, seeking some form of payback for what he had done - not caring about the consequences.

i emerge from the bathroom, tom stood inches away from me. he raises his eyebrows, his gaze moving downwards as he studies every inch of my body.

“no fucking way are you leaving looking like this.” he starts, shaking his head as a sarcastic chuckle leaves his lips. “you must be insane if you think i’d let you. do you have any idea of the kind of people out there? fuck that.”

“since when can you tell me what to do?” i laugh, taken aback by his sudden attitude, pissed off at the way he tries to control me, especially after what he has already done.

“since i’m your fucking boyfriend, incase you had forgotten! only i get to see you looking like this, i’m not gonna let you leave the house alone, letting everyone see basically everything. don’t be ridiculous.” he tuts, narrowing his eyes as i can sense the irritation in his tone. “i said i was sorry. if that’s what this is about, then you’ve proven your point, great job. but i’m not letting you leave, not wearing that.”

“you don’t own me, i can do whatever the fuck i want.” i shrug, pulling my dress up a little higher just to frustrate him more, before rushing out of our bedroom and through the house, quickly slipping out of the front door before he can stop me. he frustratedly calls my name from behind, a chorus of curse words and irritated demands all along the lines of telling me to ‘come back’ spilling from his lips until i close the door, running to my friends car and hopping in.

i look at my phone, already seeing five missed calls and a few texts, some apologising again, others telling me to come back inside. i roll my eyes, putting my phone on silent and engaging in conversation until we arrive to the club, spilling out of the car.

the place is completely packed, excitement oozing through my veins as we rush towards the bar, ordering far more shots than necessary, but in the moment i didn’t care - my mind focuses on one thing: pissing tom off. and i know that the more drunk i get, the more angry he will become, the idea satisfying to me as i pick up the small glass. i hold it to my lips, some lipgloss smudging onto it, my head tilting backwards as i allow the liquid to slip downwards, burning the back of my throat. i wince slightly, the taste strong and bitter, yet that doesn’t stop me as i pick up another glass, swallowing the liquid inside of it as fast as i can, eager to feel its effects right now, tired of feeling sober.

my friend takes my hand as i quickly swallow the last of my drink, following her shaky footsteps, all of us beyond tipsy. we find our way to the dance floor, slotting between a couple too focused on swallowing each other’s faces to realise we had pushed them aside. the alcohol finally sinking into my system, bringing along with it a sense of freedom that i had missed so much. i sway my hips to the music, getting lost in the rhythm, a wide grin on my face.

༻❦༺

i have no idea how long i have been dancing for, or how long i have been at the club for. i probably can’t even count the amount of drinks i have had on my fingers, now completely wasted as i sloppily dance to the music, my arms in the air.

“come on, we’ve got more drinks!” i hear my friend call over from the couch area, her words slurred and almost inaudible.

i smile widely, awkwardly shuffling through the crowd and over to the table, my movements all over the place as i stumble towards the couch, flopping onto it. my eyes turn to the large tray of drinks, filled with an array of shots and cocktails, my hands reaching for whatever drink i can touch first - not exactly picky at this point, i’ve probably consumed every cocktail to exist in the past hour. the sweet taste washes over my tastebuds, it’s bitter aftertaste now normal to me as i swallow it with no reaction, drinking the liquid like it is water, feeling happier with each sip. i place the drink down, glancing momentarily to my phone for the first time since i had left, seeing that tom is calling me again, at least twenty unseen messages filling my inbox.

baby i said i was sorry, come on. - 9:52pm

seriously, this isn’t funny anymore. - 9:52pm

come home now, i’m worried about u. - 9:53pm

where the fuck are you?? - 9:54pm

i swear to god if you don’t pick up the fucking phone. - 9:56pm

do u think this is funny? do u know how worried i am?? answer the damn phone. - 9:58pm

answer the fucking phone. i swear to god once i find out where you are. - 10:01pm

i’m coming to find you. - 10:04pm

i roll my eyes, placing my phone back in my purse and picking up my drink, finishing the last of it and putting the empty glass on the table. the place starts to feel increasingly warm as i decide to get some fresh air, standing up slowly from my seat, almost toppling over from the amount of alcohol i had consumed.

“anyone coming for a smoke?” i ask, turning to my friends.

they all decline apart from one, resuming their conversation over the loud music as the two of us head outside, pushing the doors open, the cold air hitting my face and cooling me down immediately. i open my purse, taking a cig out and lighting it, bringing it to my lips as i inhale, closing my eyes. the smoke fills my lungs, bringing a small moment of calm despite the low buzz still in my body. i exhale slowly, watching the smoke pour from my lips, disappearing into the night as i lean backwards against the cold wall, it’s harshness causing me to shiver a little.

i take a few more drags, holding the cig in between my fingers, enjoying the small moment of peace. the streets are practically empty, apart from the large queue of people waiting to be let into the club beside me, the diluted thumping of music drowned out slightly. the roar of a car engine, one that sounds strangely familiar, pulls me out of my hazy moment, my eyes turning to the source of the sound. i can recognise that car from anywhere - it’s headlights getting closer and closer as i roll my eyes, turning around and attempting to blend in with the small crowd of people outside.

i sigh in relief as my plan is successful - or so i thought. the car drives past me for a few seconds, it’s tyres screeching to a stop as the door opens, tom stepping out of it. his eyes frantically scan the crowd, his entire expression disjointed, chest heaving up and down as he tries to spot me. apparently my attempt at cover doesn’t suffice as his eyes lock with mine, his face softening as he lets out a sigh of relief, rushing towards me.

i groan, knowing that there is no point in running - he will always catch me, wasting my energy trying to escape would be useless. he comes closer, pushing the drunken bodies aside until he is standing in front of me, his face angry.

“jesus fucking christ do you know how scared i was?” he shouts, roughly grabbing me by my waist and smashing his lips to mine. though i can tell that this isn’t to show his affection, rather it is a way for him to release a small amount of his frustration, this not even the beginning of it.

“no way, really?” i question sarcastically, gasping as i pretend to be shocked, still furious for the shit he pulled lastnight, not interested in his feeling right now.

“lose the fucking attitude. don’t think that you’re gonna get away with this. we’re leaving, get in the fucking car.” he says, clenching his jaw and grabbing my hand. though he is clearly furious, he takes it gently, maintaining a steady grip, still careful not to hurt me.

“what if i don’t want to leave?” i challenge, a satisfied smile on my face as i know exactly how to further his anger.

“you don’t have a choice.” he states, rolling his eyes as he begins to pull me towards his car, his breathing heavy, face stern. i know that i have pissed him off, and perhaps gone too far.

he opens the passenger door, and i step in sulkily, knowing that i have pushed my boundaries. i fold my arms, rolling my eyes as he slams the door shut, quickly walking around to the driver’s side, angrily getting in.

“never fucking good enough for you is it?” he mutters, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip as he sighs, roughly clicking his seatbelt on. “i told you i was sorry, but you had to be a brat about it.”

i stay silent, sinking further into my seat as he places his hand firmly on the gearstick, beginning to drive away.

“where’s your fucking attitude now, hm? pathetic.” he scoffs, turning to face me for a second as i refuse to make eye contact, embarrassed at my change in persona, slightly scared by his tone, knowing that i have fucked up.

his foot presses harshly against the accelerator, speeding up, letting out his anger as his hand clenches the gearstick, tugging it roughly, his veins flexing with each motion.

“just wait until we get home. i’m gonna fuck that attitude out of you, maybe it’ll teach you to stop being so stubborn all the damn time.”

i sense the sincerity in his tone, recognising that he is completely serious, deciding to stay quiet to avoid pissing him off further. yet i cannot ignore the aching between my thighs, slightly excited at his threat, secretly desperate to get home so that he can execute his promise.

time seems to work against me, each second feeling like hours as the silence between us only fuels the tension. i have never been so relieved to see our house come into view, waiting patiently as tom pulls in, turning the engine off and staying in his seat. he takes a deep breath, his tongue messing with the metal of his lip piercing before he opens his mouth to speak, refusing to make eye contact.

“upstairs. and do as i say this time, if you want to be walking tomorrow.”

requests are open! as i said veryyy full atm but if i like ur req i’ll do it straight away so keep sending them in!!

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: not a request - “Reader finds out they’re pregnant and freaks out.”

Warnings: pregnancy talk, pregnant!reader, crying, fluff

Enjoy!

══════════════════

You stood in the bathroom, hands on the counter as you stare at the second and really dark pink line that appeared almost instantly.

You could feel your stomach turning, which has been happening the last week - to which you now know the answer to. 

“Fuck.” You rest a hand on your forehead, “Okay.” You breathe out, “Fuck fuck fuck.” Your voice turns into a whispered squeal, which is full of panic. 

Johnnie suddenly breaks you from your panicked state by coming through the front door yelling, “Babe! Babe! Come out here. If you’re sleeping wake up!” 

You wipe your face, “Oh, fuck.” You sniffle, trying to pull yourself together as quick as you can, “Goddamn it, Johnnie.” 

You also have an answer as to why you’ve been so grumpy lately. 

You scatter to cram the paper evidence from the pregnancy test box and throw it in the trash bin.

You bend down with a groan and pull it out, trying to cover it up as best you could. 

You were scared. 

You could feel your heart racing quick and you felt like you were going to throw up. You felt very overwhelmed and you eventually end snapping on Johnnie.

Johnnie knocks on the door, “Hey, babe. You in there? I gotta tell ya something.” You press your lips together, desperately hoping your voice sounds normal, “I’ll be right out, baby.” 

“Come on.” He whines, “I’m so excited to tell you!” 

Johnnie’s persistent-ness is pushing you closer to that breaking point. You close your eyes and take a slow deep breath before you stand up, walking over to the door. 

You pull it towards you, keeping it closed slightly and your body blocking the counter, “Johnnie. I said give me a second.” 

He stops and stares at you, “Um. Okay?” He says plainly, “I don’t understand what that was all about.” 

You sigh, “I just.. I need a second, okay?” 

“What’s going on?” Johnnie asks, now finally noticing your puffy eyes from crying, “Why are you crying?” He steps closer and your hand on the door knob tightens, “I’ll tell you then..” 

“No, tell me now.. if you’re.. in trouble, I would like to know.” He reaches up to touch your face but the thought of him not wanting anything to do with you once he knows makes you wince. 

Johnnie notices your wince and he shakes his head, stepping closer to the door, “No, seriously. What’s going on.” 

You just burst into tears, completely letting your boiling emotions take over. You step back from the door and cover your face. 

Johnnie moves to you, taking you into his arms and kissing your head, “Hey, hey.” He whispers as you gasp for air, completely breaking down. 

“Y/n.” He says, his voice louder, “y/n.” 

He looks around, making sure nothing was going on. His does a double take once his eyes move over the positive pregnancy test. 

He reaches out, sliding it closer, “When is this from?” 

You sniffle against his chest, “t-today.” You cry out, word vomit coming up and out, “I-im so-o sor-ry, John-nie.” 

He set the test down and cups your cheeks, “Why are you sorry?” He’s starting to panic more the longer you take to say anything, “Babe.”

“I-I know you don’t want kids right now.. a-and an-d I ju-“ you breathe out, sobbing into his chest. 

“Y/n, baby. Sweetheart.” Johnnie grabs your face, “look at me.” You look up at him, sniffling and gasping for air and he sighs, “Calm down. Take a breather.” 

He has you take a deep breath with him and he nods, “Good. Okay. So tell me.” He reaches back, slipping the test off the counter and holds it up, “Is this why you’ve been weirdly sick this last week and a half?” 

You smirk, still a mess from crying, “y-yes.”

“I’m not mad, alright. I mean. I was mad that you wouldn’t let me come in but now I get it.” He kisses your forehead, “A baby wasn’t in the plans, but does anything really ever go to plan?” 

He’s calmed you down enough now and you blow out air, “I was.. genuinely scared you weren’t going to want me anymore.” 

He rolls his eyes, “Please, no one can take you away from me.” He pulls you in, “I can’t wait to see you with a little baby belly.” 

You laugh slightly, “Oh.” You look up at him, “What did you want to tell me?” 

He bats the air, “nothing is as important as this.” He sighs, “we were supposed to go to diner to celebrate a future collab with some people, but I’m not going.”

“Is who I’m thinking of?” You sniffle and Johnnie nods. Your eyes grow wide and you start to tear up again, “Oh Johnnie! I’m so proud of you.” 

You reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tight, “Why aren’t you going to dinner though? Seriously, I’ll be fine.” 

“Do you feel like going?” He asks and you shake your head, “I mean, I would like to but I really don’t feel like it.” 

“I’m not leaving you alone, so if you want to stay home I’m staying home and you’re not just going to go because of me.” Johnnie says and you smile, “Only if you really want to. I don’t want you to miss out on anything because of me.” 

He puts his hand over your mouth, “Uh uh uh, we’re done with the conversation now.” He leans back, “I’ll be right back.” 

“Where are you going?” You ask and he looks back at you as he walks out the door, “I’m going to tell Jake and Tara to come over so we can tell them.” 

You smiles and laid a hand on your stomach, mentally smacking yourself for having a huge meltdown over literally nothing. 

Hormones, you think with an eye roll. You make your way out to the living room so you can comfortably wait for Jake and Tara to arrive. 

══════════════════

Thanks for reading! Ilysm! As always, let me know how you liked it! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[diorsluv]

feather , part 1

“ not another take ”

series m. list next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, markestapa, luca.fantilli, and 78,682 others

yourusername after 19 years of being my brother, jamie still takes the worst photos

view all comments

jamie.drysdale I WAS TAKING 50 PICS PER SECOND.

→ yourusername AND I WASN’T READY FOR ANY OF THEM.

→ jamie.drysdale you’re so ungrateful

→ yourusername love u too

trevorzegras is he ruining your trip?

→ yourusername oh my god he’s been annoying me nonstop for the past theee days

→ jamie.drysdale stop spreading rumors

→ yourusername YOU WOKE ME UP AT FOUR IN THE MORNING TO ASK ME IF I WANTED MCDONALDS FOR LUNCH

→ jamie.drysdale THE EARLY BIRD GETS THE WORM

username4 ur so stunning

username66 MY IDOLLL

markestapa come back to michigan we miss you 😞

→ yourusername YOU miss me????

→ markestapa good lord HE said he misses you a lot

→ yourusername idk who “he” is markie, ur gonna have to specify 🤔🤔

→ edwards.73 he’s WHINING

→ dylanduke25 he just collapsed onto the ground

→ mackie.samo i can hear him crying from the other side of the yost

→ jamie.drysdale WHO IS “HE”??? yourusername DO YOU KNOW WHO “HE” IS??? WHY DOES HE MISS YOU HELLO?

→ yourusername calm ur tits bro ✋

username1 what’s going on in mark’s replies..

lhughes_06 when are you coming back 🙏

lhughes_06 leave cali and come back 🙏

lhughes_06 imysm please come back to michigan 🙏

lhughes_06 i’m so lonely without you i need you to come back 🙏

lhughes_06 THOSE COMMENTS WERE NOT ME I SWEAR

→ yourusername awww i can’t believe you missed me that much

→ lhughes_06 NO PLEASE RUT STOLE MY PHONE YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE ME

→ rutgermcgroarty dude i’m deathly sick rn i physically cannot have stolen his phone

→ jackhughes aw moosey long distance isn’t working?

→ lhughes_06 WHY ARE YOU TARGETTING ME WHAT DID I DO

_quinnhughes are you flying up here when we play the ducks?

→ yourusername YOU KNOW IT

→ jamie.drysdale i’m trying to convince her not to i promise

→ yourusername i wouldn’t miss a chance to spend time with my huggy wuggy bear

→ _quinnhughes blocked.

username29 jamie’s an amazing photographer

liked by jamie.drysdale

username93 LUKE’S COMMENTS LMAOOO

→ yourusername he wants me to clarify that it “wasn’t him” (you shouldn’t believe him)

yourusername

liked by adamfantilli, lhughes_06, _alexturcotte and 92,177 others

yourusername guess who’s who??

tagged: edwards.73, markestapa, luca.fantilli, rutgermcgroarty

view all comments

mackie.samo how come i wasn’t invited 🙁

→ yourusername I’M SORRY THEY KIDNAPPED ME SO I COULDN’T INVITE YOU 💔💔💔

→ mackie.samo it’s okay we can still have our annual cookie baking session

→ rutgermcgroarty COOKIES?? CAN I JOIN

→ mackie.samo NO it’s us two only 😠

→ yourusername mack’s the boss, sorry rut

username47 tag yourself i’m the skeleton mark’s hugging

→ username22 how’d you know it’s mark wtf

→ username90 i’m the yellow glasses ethan’s wearing

jamie.drysdale of course you go and do this as soon as you get back

→ yourusername DON’T JUDGE

adamfantilli luca’s the second right one on the right photo isn’t he..

→ yourusername YES HOW’D YOU KNOW??

→ adamfantilli i could smell the stupidity

→ luca.fantilli WOAH WOAH?? WHAT DID I DO?

→ yourusername FANTILLI FIGHT ⁉️⁉️

→ adamfantilli mom got mad at me because YOU left the house messy before we left to catch our flight

→ luca.fantilli your room was the only messy room in the house stop lying

username65 friend group goals

liked by yourusername

username7 wtf i wanna do this with my friends

username74 FASHION ICONS

trevorzegras come back and watch us play lil drizzy ❤️

→ yourusername first of all never call me lil drizzy again

→ yourusername second of all i’m going to the nucks game when you play BE PATIENT 🙄

next chapter notes ) this was actually so fun to make im excited to make moreeee 🫣 also the official nickname is drizzle i’m calling it rn bc drysdale=drizzle=drizzy=drizz AND I KNOW IT SOUNDS STUPID BUT I SWEAR YOU WILL COME TO LOVE IT

[angelliicc]

don't call me again

“to be honest, i don’t care anything about you

baby it’s true, we’re already done”

masterlist

a/n its 11:30 as i type this lmao. guys i used to hate this song 😓 don’t come for me. anyways ENJOY

warnings not proofread, ex-gf!ellie

ellie was your dream girl ever since you laid her eyes on her. you thought you’d be the luckiest person in the world to date her, unfortunately it wasn’t the case. your relationship with ellie was rocky. constant arguments over stupid shit, not responding or talking to each other for days and so much more. when you attempted to strike up a conversation, all she’d do was scroll on her phone and say “mhm” without eye contact. you couldn’t keep up with this, so you called it quits. she had no reaction and honestly could care less when you told her, which led you devastated.

it was 3 am. you couldn’t sleep because you had to finish homework. “ugh, why didn’t i skip conditioning today.” you said with regret. your phone rang as it said ellie williams. “didn’t i block her? how did she get my number?”

you answered. “hello?”

e: “missin u like crazy. need u.”

e: “ hello? you’re not gonna fucking answer?you still mad at me? get over that shit and lets restart. i still love u.”

your face turned bright red with embarrassment, r: “sorry, you were cutting out, im here.”

you thought of two things. 1: play with her feelings for a bit or 2: text her and block her. you decided to have a little bit of fun before you wanted to block her. ellie after a certain time was a different person.

r: “missing me that bad you had to call me?”

e: “yeahh”

r: “how bad do u fr miss me, be honest.”

e: “you all im thinking about all day at any time. i miss you so much baby.”

r: “how’d you even get my number?”

e: “i have my ways.”

r: “i bet you do.”

e: “the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

you smiled over the phone, “don’t worry about it.”

silence filled the call for a few seconds that felt like hours.

r: “don’t you have a girl?”

e: “yeah, but she don’t need to know about this. let this be our little secret.”

r: “should i take you back?”

e: “please.”

r: “nah, ive moved on. don’t call me again.”

you hung up and hit block quickly before she called you again. damn, that bitch was a home wrecker. and you didn’t want to be the cause of something. you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. you really fucking hated ellie williams.

“oh, there was a lot of talk and a lot of trouble

your story and mine are really over now”

[undercovercameron]

only you

summary: a midnight meeting is never off the table for him.

notes: i cranked this one out like two two weeks ago but i didnt get around to editing it... apologies! this is a continuation of my same person, same mistakes fic, as it concerns rafe with a gf and the reader being highschool fwb with him. features a masturbation kink, dirty talk, and a whole lot of nostalgia! enjoy my darlings, and dont forget to watch the fuck out of obx 3 (i finished it an hour ago and its 2:00 am my time and im not sure). feel free to talk to me about it ;)

tags: rafe cameron x fem!reader

word count: 2213

It’s nearly 3 am when he shows up at your house, mind all over the place, and parks in your driveway. He knows your parents won’t be mad seeing his truck— they can’t help but love him. He slams the driver’s door shut and jogs around to the backyard, breathless in the cooler night air. The grassy shore two hundred or so yards from your house ripples with the harsh wind of early summer storms, and he wipes a hand at his forehead. It’s still hot. 

Rounding the corner, he sees the metal basin that curves around one of your basement bedroom windows, and drops down onto the gravel that lies at the bottom. 

You barely register the sound, fast asleep in your bed when he glances in at the dark room. 

He digs around for a second in the gravel and finds the familiar curve of the window key and quickly unlocks the latch. Throwing it back down, he uses his arms to push up on the handle and slide it far enough so that he can crawl in. 

You turn onto your back in your bed, and he nearly smiles at how you look. So calm, yet so stressed with your eyebrows drawn. But Rafe just hops into your air conditioned room clumsily, shoes quiet on the carpet, and nearly tips over into your desk. He turns to the window and closes it quietly. 

He takes a moment to listen for any movement in the house. He knows your parents go to bed before midnight, so they’re sound asleep—he’s mainly worried about your brother. He was such a cock block in highschool. 

You move in the sheets again and his attention is drawn back to you. You’re so peaceful. Oh, well. 

“Y/N,” he whispers, and reaches to shake your leg. You lick your lips and burrow deeper into your pillow. “Y/N!” He raises his voice, glancing at your locked door. 

“Hm,” is all that comes from your mouth, and your eyelids twitch. 

“Fuck,” he curses to himself. Fine. Grabbing one of your ankles, he drags you to the foot of the bed. 

“Hey!” You croak, startled awake, and blink furiously around. “Oh.” You clear your throat and wipe your eyes. There’s a handsome man at the foot of your bed.

“Hey,” he says, looking down at you, and his hand finds your shoulder. You’re dressed in soft shorts and a skimpy tank top in an effort to remain cool in this summer heat—it makes his heart thump against the wall of his chest.

“Why’re you here?” You ask, voice still groggy, and your skin erupts in goosebumps where his fingers move. 

“I told you I’d come today.” 

“Yeah, during the daytime.” Your eyebrows draw together and you push up onto a hand. “Not in the middle of the night.”

“Do you want me to leave?” His eyes stare down at yours. You look over him, liking the way those jeans and flannel shirt look on him. The crickets chirp outside, and you hear a branch moved by wind brush the side of your house. His hand migrates and a thumb rubs at the skin of your stomach, nudging the hem of your tank top up. 

“No,” you finally settle on, and he steps closer to the bed. 

“Okay,” he murmurs, and dips. Your lips connect, soft against soft, and you shiver. He smells like the sun and that car freshener he keeps in the glove compartment. His hands find your hair, cradling your head, and your body prickles at the touch. It’s so late, and he’s so warm— you just melt into him. You grip at the sides of his shirt and fall back onto your bed, taking him with you. 

He grunts, pulling away from your mouth for a second, and follows you up the bed as you move closer to the headboard. He looks huge like this.

Your legs come together.

He bites his lip and with a hand on your knee moves them back apart. You settle with your shoulders against your pillow, and he leans down, between your legs once more, and kisses you. 

“Rafe,” you mutter into his mouth, and he hums wordlessly in response. Your body is so soft and nice when you arch up into him that he forgets about anything besides you. You grab at his hand at your waist and drag it up your body, and when his thumb brushes your hardening nipple the crotch of his pants tightens. Fuck. 

He pushes his knees into your bed, keeping your legs spread for him, and straightens. His large hands fumble with the buttons of his shirt, and he shrugs it off. The material of the shirt underneath nearly rips with how quick he takes it off. His skin is shiny and strong in the moonlight, and it takes all of your mental strength to not lean up and kiss all over his chest. That would mean you’re desperate to feel and touch him— and you’re definitely not. Between your legs definitely doesn’t ache terribly when he unbuttons his jeans. 

“Please.” You lean up to him, sliding a warm hand around his shoulders, and bring him back down with you. He makes a noise when he feels your fingernails scrape his skin, but your mouth is back on his, so what reason is there to complain? His nose brushes your cheek when he pulls away to tug the tank top strap off of your shoulder, and you shudder in the cold air. 

His thumb nudges your nipple back and forth, making your blood rush in your ears as your chest heaves, and he bows to catch it in his mouth. Rafe sucks, pink lips perfect just for this, and you arch up into him. The scent of body soap washes over him, and he just breathes you in. So sweet. He curls an arm around your waist, forcing your skin up against him, and you make a noise of contentment. 

He mouths at your breast until he has you panting up into the night air, eyes closed, and then moves to the other. Your eyes open briefly and you slide a hand across his head, feeling his warm scalp and soft hair under your fingers. 

He hums into your skin, nipple caught between his teeth, and you nearly cry out. But you hold back, wanting to save it. He pulls at it again, wanting to hear that pained noise you know he loves, and your heart skips a beat. You suck in a breath. 

“So responsive,” he murmurs into you, and his gaze briefly moves to your face—his dick hardens even more. 

“I’m impatient, Rafe,” you huff, petting his hair, and squeeze your thighs around him. “Please.”

“Needy,” he says more to himself than you, but pulls away to get a hand at the waistband of your shorts and move out of the way so he can rid you of them and get to what he’s actually been thinking about all day. He throws them over the edge of your bed and crowds you against the headboard again, mouth insistent upon yours as his fingers find your slick. Your thigh jerks when his pointer finger draws a line up your folds, and he just hums into your mouth. His thumb pushes into your clit, demanding, and his middle finger slides easily in. You clench around him, head thrown back into the pillow, and your eyes squeeze shut. 

“Fucking wet,” he grits out through his teeth, digging his face into your neck. Your skin ripples with goosebumps at his hot breath on your throat, and he slides another finger in. 

You’re so warm, so tight, so wet around him— it makes his heart smash into the cage of his ribs. It’s just like high school. You, sweet and perfect for him, and him, brooding and in the palm of your hand. He tried to not let you know that too much, though. Can’t let people around him know that he cares. 

“So perfect.” His teeth nip the soft skin on your neck, and you grab a hand at his forearm, guiding him faster. He accedes, knowing what you want, and slips another finger in. You tingle and curve up into him, unused to the stretch, and the breath is stolen right from your throat. 

His thumb slides off of your clit when you push it away. Your fingers replace his thumb, and he just tries to breathe. You know every fucking avenue to getting him to cum in his pants, and he’s really trying to avoid that outcome. 

Your noises become higher in your throat, whinier, and he feels you start to pulse around him. His fingers push even deeper, going the perfect speed, and then you’re shaking and trying to both get away from and get closer to his hand. 

He grabs at your hip and keeps you in one place, hand continuing, and you grab at him frantically. 

“Too much, Rafe,” you cry, neck cramping at the angle you’d stretched it to for the longest time, but he continues on. Your blood is pumping so fast, so hard in your body, and the rush of orgasm fades into numb pleasure that makes you pulse around him. 

“Come on, baby, I know you can.”

Your mind calls memories to the surface— memories of him pushing you past your limit, making you scream, cry. You loved it, and he only continued when you were nodding and shaking for him. Any inkling that you weren’t into it he was off of you. He was no stranger to felonies, such as drug distribution or grand theft auto, but he didn’t dare do anything that was a question of consent. Off the table. 

“Your fingers are so—so big.” You ramble on, talking of good things only like the size of him and how he feels and tastes and smells, and his hips twitch where they're pressed to you. Fuck. 

“So close, Y/N,” he pants into your ear, hips rolling steadily into your thigh and pelvis, and you feel his dick jump against you. “You’re so close.”

Your torso shakes with the effort and tension in your muscles, and he bites into your pillow. 

“I fucking—,” you start, but you fling your head back into the pillow before you can finish. He really wishes he knew what you were going to say. “Yes, yes, yes—fuck!” You chant, and your hips twitch where they meet his hammering hand as you cum onto his fingers. He continues on for a little bit, loving the feel of you, but pulls his fingers out. They immediately push into his mouth and you take the moment to pull yourself together. 

Sweat sticks the sheets to your back, beading at your forehead too, and you’re sure your face is flushed red. The room is undeniably hot, filled with the hot breath and energy palpable in the air. You’re sure it smells like sex, too. 

Rafe catches your jaw in his hand and tilts you up for a kiss, lips hot and smooth against yours. As he settles into you again, your hand finds the crotch of his pants. He breaks away immediately, cursing and looking down at your fingers. 

“Touch it,” you breathe, eyes locked on his. His wide, clear, blue eyes. “For me.”

Rafe’s large fingers push yours away and dig into his underwear, and his eyes close when his palm circles the tip of him. You look up at him, hands coming to your chest, and you cup your breasts. His eyes follow your fingers as they pinch your nipples. You back arches, and his hand around his dick pumps faster. 

“You’re so good for me,” you say, as breathless as you can manage without sounding like a corny phone-sex operator, and his head cants back at your voice. 

“Shit,” he gasps, mouth hanging open when he looks down. “O-Only you.” It’s more to himself, but your chest swells. 

“Yeah?” You ask, and sit up. Your hands find his waist and his torso, and you lean up so his mouth is inches from yours. “Not your girlfriend?”

“Fuck,” he exhales, cheeks pink, and his eyes close when you trace his chest with a finger. “No. Not her. Never.”

You just hum, pleased, and curl a hand around his own to slow his hand. His hips twitch, fucking himself between your two hands, and his mouth opens in a “fuck” before he’s cumming right into your bare chest.

“Christ, Y/N,” he says, panting, and covers the upper half of his face with his forearm. His knees ache. 

You rise clumsily from the bed and stumble into your bathroom, returning with the hand towel. You wipe at your chest and throw it back into the bathroom, careless. 

“Are you staying?” You ask, nearing him, and lean one knee on the bed. He curls an arm around your waist and tugs you closer in the darkness, lips pressed to your temple. 

“I don’t think you could get me to leave your bed right now, sweetheart.” He smells like sweat and the remnants of cologne, and you breathe him in.

“I’m counting on it,” you whisper, and kiss him square on the mouth.

[s0apmactav1sh]

More knight!reader and king!price since Im sick atm so this is very self indulgant.

Cw: fluff and smut.

Thinking about the days where price gets sick, coming down with a cold, his nose blocked, throat completely dry, constant coughs he seems to be having and of course the headaches he just cant seem to shake. Theres not a single word spoken about the king being sick as it would only cause havoc within the kingdom as most would be worried about their poor kings health and wanting to bring gifts in hopes that he got better. But then theres you. His devoted knight and his lover laying underneath him allowing him to take your warmth from you since he's 'freezing' as he's told you.

Of course you dont believe that he is, since he ran up a temperature of 39.7° and he was hot to the touch but you would indulge in his little lies since he seemed so happy to be laying on your bare chest. The castle servents and guards however go about their days not coming near the kings chambers since he specifically requested that no one disturb him as he rested up and gained his strength back.

King!Price just expects you to dote on him, to make him feel small even though your not that much taller than him and by order of your king you do. Giving him loving kisses on the top of his head, rubbing his back soothingly when he complains of an ache there, holding a cold towel over his forehead to help with his temperature and helping him undress when he gives out again about being to warm now.

He cant be the only one naked, that be madness so like the obediant knight you are you undress after him and go back to laying as you once were only now the both of you are naked. And so after a few minute of mindless cuddling price starts fidgeting and twisting and turning saying hes only trying to get comfortable even though you can feel him subtlely grinding against your softened cock. But as a knight your not easily seduced. Even if it is your king whos trying to tempt you to bed him.

You who just does have it in you to let him grind against you, using your strenght to flip him onto his bath while hovering over him, the veins in your arms practically bulging out and price is drooling at the sight. His own cock was hard and dribbling a pathetic amount of precum just at the sight of you above him. And who are you to deny the whimpery little 'please' he lets out. Just like that his legs are thrown over your shoulders and your face is buried between his cheeks as you eat him out, using one hand to keep his hips steady and the other to finger his hole open to take your cock.

And by the time you deem him ready he's already finished his second orgams all because of your fingers pressing against his prostate and the way you so expertly ate him out like a man starved. But even with all the stretching he still feels like he's beinf split open of your cock. Each inch going into him having him whining and moaning for more. And once your finally fully inside of him its price who starts trying to move so soon which has you gripping his waist with a bruising grip he'd think you were about to weld him like you would your sword.

Prices hands are moved to your shoulders, his legs wrapped around your waist as you pound him into the soft mattress below you both. Each thrust sending mindblowing pleasure through him and you, his hole constantly clenching tighter around you as you do. His moans are nearly echoed off the walls with how loud he's gotten and you almost feel bad on the poor souls who do unfortunately pass by the room because hes just being so mouthy, begging and pleading for what your already giving him. Mindblowing pleasure. You dont think of your own pleasure just making him orgams as many time as he needs until he is shaking from any form of stimulation to his lower parts.

He's almost disappointed that you never came a small pout on his face even as you so graciously pull out and go draw him a bath adding in his expensive bath salts he likes so much. Even as you pick him up and bring him to the bath placing him so gently into the water before getting in behind him to wash him off. You even deny his offer of a handjob or a blowjob that he wants to give a thanks. But no, you clean off his chest and stomach from the semen he splattered all over himself massging any aread where it may be sore. You even help him get dressed, choosing more soft things for him to wear. And if it wasnt enough that you did all that you even changed the sheets on the bed so he wouldnt have to sleep in dirty ones.

Amd even after all that you still got in beside him to cuddle him once again mumbling out a small reason as to why your not deserving of pleasure because of the blood on your hands the thousands of lives youve taken all to protect the kingdom. He nearly gets out a word but the way your hands are making small circles on his back have him dozing off before he can convince you that you are deserving of pleasure. You dont sleep that night still watching over him like a gaurd should be able to do.

A knight like you would never know the word pleasure nor the word pain because you had lost to much and gained so little that they no longer mattered.

_

I dunno what this is either but yh count it as fluff count it as angst count it as whatever you want but yh this is mostly just something i wrote bc im sick and prolly wont write for a few days till im better. Sorry for the misspelt words but just ignore them anyways enjoy :)

@rodolfoparras

[narcolini]

white room - pt. 1

johnny davis (the bikeriders) x reader, 18+, canon typical themes and language, 2.8k words, 1 of ? johnny as a miserable bisexual divorcee and reader as someone too chilled and lonely to give a fuck a/n: it's written to be gender neutral, but there are a few references implying they may be afab (not overkill its just a very gendered landscape)

“Go fuck your good self, then.”

The door slams behind you and the window pane shakes with it, piece of shit car that it is, with an equally large turd of a guy running the thing. 

“Crazy bitch,” is the cab driver’s goodbye call, and yeah, maybe. But he’s the one dumping you in the wrong end of town—and after dark, no less. All you’d done was get a cab after a party, knowing you left all your cash in one of the boots under your bed, with the mad hope that the guy behind the wheel might just be kind enough to let you ride along on a promise. You had every intention of running upstairs to get him his fee, while he kept the engine running, mind you, but that uptight jack didn’t wanna hear a thing about it. Even had the nerve to ask you to comp him 'with those pretty lips o’ yours’, which is round about where you started calling him a filthy no-good perv, and he started pulling over in the middle of nowhere. 

Now you’re standing in the dark in nothin but your too-cheap denim jacket, that you never should’ve bought ‘cause you got shirts thicker than this, staring at a corner side bar that’s almost definitely filled with a hundred more of those cab driver types. Not in the driving sense, but in the fuck anyone that isn’t a man like us sense, you know? 

But what can you do? It’s in there, or out here, and you’re not in the shoes for walking, never mind running, so it’s not much of a choice at all.

You go up in a way like you been here before, like you know the name of the place even though the paint’s chipped off and the light ain’t lighting anymore, and in the time it takes to cross the street, you see three guys go in, three come out, and not a single woman or anyone else, so much as look at the place. It’d be a lie to say your heartbeat was going a speed anywhere near close to normal. Which is another thing you try and hide as you push through the door into the chaos of it all. 

It’s not a bar, it’s a God damn wolf den. 

You make it two steps and already you seen enough beer, and enough skin, and heard enough dogwhistles to consider just how bad it could really be to run barefoot across town. Your feet would only hurt a little bit, right? They seen you now though, and with the amount of bikes they got lined up outside, you wouldn’t even make it to the next block before one of them caught up to you. And then what? Might as well try talking wolf while you’re in here, better that than squaring up with one of them in some stinking alleyway.  

“You got a phone, big guy?” you ask, to the first one that really looks at you. He’s a head taller than you but it seems like that head’s spinning, so you figure he needs a little more explanation to get going. “Behind the bar or something? A payphone?”

He takes a while to reply, like you’re speaking some other language, then he says, “I got something you can ride, honey.”

And now you’re back in the cab all over again, and you’re still going fuckin' nowhere.

“Forget about it.”

You shove past him, and another two men smelling of liquor, until you can plant both hands on the edge of the bar and speak to the owner directly. At least, you think it’s the owner. Cause he’s stood back there, with a towel slung over his shoulder, and he’s the only one giving all of these animals their liquid feed for the night. 

“Hey," you start, “do you got a phone? One I could use?”

Instead of answering, he looks right over your head. Imagine that, like you ain’t there at all, right over and into the space behind. It takes a second, but then you realise it’s not just bad manners, it’s only that there’s someone else coming up to the back of you who’s much more important, to him anyway. 

And now, that’s a guy you look twice at.

He’s not tall, but he’s not short neither, something in the middle that suits you just right, if it mattered. Face like he’s seen some things too, but his hair’s combed all neat like he hasn’t seen nothin. If it weren’t for the bent pinky on his one hand and the scar on his knuckles across the other, you might think he was some sort of regular guy. But he got a walk like he owns the place, more than the barman, that's for sure, and the shirt he’s wearing is plastered with the same exact name as the rest of all these guys: VANDALS. Doesn’t take much to figure that he’s top dog of them. Vandal of the Vandals.

He slides right up to you like you asked him to, sitting his forearms on the edge—next to where your hands are. 

“Nah,” he says. Just like that. Nah.

You feel like laughing. “No?”

“Nah,” his head shakes, “you don’t wanna be in here.”

If it’s advice, it kinda feels like a threat and, well, if it’s a threat, it sorta feels like advice. A decent bit of it at that, cause he is right. You don’t wanna be in here. 

“Don’t want doesn’t make up for need,” you tell him. “And I need to use a phone, if you got one.”

“What for?”

“A cab?” Then you do laugh. “What? You worried I’ll ring your bill up by calling international?”

He makes a strange, sorta dismissive noise as he’s pushing off from the bar. “Worried you’d call some little boyfriend of yours,” he mumbles, then he walks round to the serving side and pulls a phone from under the lip of it.

“No boyfriend, sir. Just a mighty need to get home.” And the fuck outta this place.

He picks the handset up, spinning the dial without asking you for nothin, his eyes sitting on something you can’t see right in front of him. A number maybe. “Not many drivers will pick you up from here,” he says. "This one…yeah, well, you can try it.”

Any hope you had is fast disappearing on you. “That bad, huh?”

He passes you the phone, the twisty cord going all the way straight just to reach you. 

It connects as you put it up to your ear, and some lady with a voice all too quiet for telephones greets you on the other side, rushing you to the point before you can even try and warm her up a little.

"Hi, yeah, so I need a cab but I won’t be able to pay the guy until we get there, is that something your—hello? Hello?” You tut. The empty tone in your ear is a stinging slap to the face, right there, right across the cheekbone. “Motherfucker,” you say, but she’s already all the way gone. She didn’t even hear you out.

And this guy? Well he’s smiling when you look back at him, doing an awful bad job at pretending like he ain’t been listening. “Yeah," he clears his throat to hide a laugh he won’t laugh, “you should’a said you had no money. No cab’s gonna—”

“I know,” you snap. “Still had to ask though, didn’t I?”

He shrugs, nodding at sorta the same time like he agrees with you, even though his face is fixed like he don’t agree at all. Like you’re awful naive for thinking they might even listen to you in the first place.

“Guess I’m walkin’ then,” you decide. You pass him the handset, but he’s too slow to take it, so you go on your toes to lean over and put it back yourself. Hard and pissy with it. Shitty taxi service. Shitty phone. Shitty bar.

“You want a drink?”

Your heels hit the floor again. “What?"

He puts his hand out like he works here now, pointing to all the dingy bottles waiting behind him. “A beer…or?”

“Yeah," you test, “what’s the or?”

“Or,” he says, slow with it, "you sit round drinking nothin’ and wait until I can take you home.”

Your brows shoot up like he’s told a lie bigger than any you’ve ever heard. “You gonna take me home?” you ask, thinking yeah, he’s gonna take you home, and you’re gonna be the next big Santy Claus. 

He nods and it keeps going, like his head gets away from him. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I can give you a ride.”

For a second, you find yourself worrying about it. “That code for something else?”

He pulls a pack of cigarettes from his jeans and sets one in-between his lips. “No. S’just a ride.”

You watch the lighter flip, the cigarette catch. Watch him take a drag and blow it out again. He isn’t acting drunk, and he don’t seem like he cares either way, whether you take a ride from him or not. All he seems bothered about is finding the end of that smoke, and popping the cap off another beer. 

If these are wolves, then he’s the oldest of them. The most tired and nicked with battle scars. From where you’re standing, that makes him the least threatening too, cause you come with a whole load of baggage, and he looks like he’s got even more than that. And anyone with all that shit on their shoulders? Yeah, they’re not gonna be no sort of trouble at all. They just wanna get home at night with their head pinned on straight still.

"Well alright,” you say. “I’ll take a beer and the ride, too.”

“Beer and a ride,” he grumbles back, not moving the cigarette and losing his words because of it. “I’m Johnny."

“Johnny?”

He nods, handing you the beer he just readied for himself. 

“Thanks.” You give him your name the same way he gave you his, and he says it back to you, the way you did with him, though you know you didn’t mumble it the first time. He heard you just right. “This the part where I tell you how far away I live, and you say actually, I don’t got the gas for that, right?”

“How far d’you live?”

“Other side of town.”

He shrugs. “I got gas enough.”

And that’s how you end up on the back of his bike, clinging on like some sort of koala bear thing, with the town going past like it’s made of nothing but air, cold, loud, air. Flooding your ears and the collar of your jacket, even the ends of your pants are filling up with it. Going so fast nothing feels like anything, only that, everything feels of everything. Way too much. By the time you’re pulling up to the house, your head’s spinning like you had ten beers, not two, and he has to offer his hand just to get you off in one piece.

“God,” you say, “does it feel that crazy every time?”

He looks like he wants to smile, but something inside don’t let him. “Guess so.”

“Well, you got bigger balls than me, that’s for sure.”

Then he really wants to smile, you can see it in the little crinkles by his eyes. “Night, kid.”

“Not a kid,” you tell him, cause you lived through too many years of shit to not get the respect an adult deserves, plus, you ain’t even that much younger than he is. Anyone without a stack of lines down his forehead must look like a kid to him. “Thanks for the ride. You really saved my ass.”

He waves it off, like it really was nothin, though actually it was a pretty big something, a real good favour. “Ah. Wasn’t gonna let nothin’ happen to you.”

“Oh yeah? Saw me walking in like some sort of square and the alarm bells went ringing?” 

“Yeah. Like that.”

You hum a little, shrugging while you think on it. “I could’a handled myself,” you tell him. Which isn’t all the way the truth, but it’s not too far from it neither. You can get mean when you have to.  

“Maybe, but you didn’t have to, did you?” He kicks the bike to life again, and there goes that engine, so loud his ears must be working half as good as they should be. “See you around,” he says.

You nod. As far as last words go, those are some pretty boring ones, but it’s later than late now, and you’re not feeling like standing outside any longer until one of you comes up with something better. So he gets a “see-ya” and that’s the last thing either of you will ever say to each other, cause when are you ever gonna find yourself in the middle of some roughed up, leather wearing, bike club, ever again? 

____

Well. Turns out you got a whole lot wrong when it came to figuring Johnny out. Not even a full day goes by, and you’re hearing that rumble, that big bru-bru-bru, clattering noise coming right back down your street. And Mrs Saccone, who’s normally deafer than deaf, is banging a broom on your wall telling you to get rid of it. To get rid of him. Can you imagine? Old lady, never done nothin wrong in her life, as far as your Pops ever knew, and suddenly, big mean man on a bike, sitting outside and ruining her TV dinner. 

You couldn’t get out there fast enough. Half-dressed, you know, you were ready to settle down for the night. Work stuff off and replaced with those big, old man type boxer shorts. If it weren’t for the bathrobe, wrapped all up round yourself, you’d have blushed so hard it’d burst a blood vessel.

“You forget something?” you ask, parking your feet and slippers right onto the concrete next to him. “I got neighbours, you know.”

He frowns, pursing his lips as he looks you over. “I wake you up?”

“No. But I’d be lying if I said you weren’t disturbing my peace.”

He nods, still running that engine, one foot on the ground to keep him in one place there. It goes so long without him saying nothin that you start thinking maybe it’s your turn, and you forgot which one of you spoke last or something.

“Can I help you, Johnny?”

“Let me take you out,” he says. Not a question, but not bossy with it neither, just ‘let me’. If he’d said it like an order, you would’ve told him to stick it where you told the cab driver to stick it last night, but he seems to know better than that.

You pull the robe tighter, right up to your neck. “I’m not going back to that bar,” you tell him.

“No, not there.” He flicks a gloved hand over the bars of the bike, imagining some fancy, high-class sort of place, right there in front of him. “Somewhere nice. You and me.”

It’s a good thing your mother is on a whole other continent, because without thinking much about it at all, you say, “Alright, sure. You can take me out.” 

He smiles, and it might not be, but it feels like it’s the first one he’s shown you, all real and bunched up in that stubble of his. “You should go get dressed then.”

You feel the life drain right out of you. “We’re going now?”

“I’m here." He shrugs. "So, yeah, why not?”

“You know most people would hate you for that,” you say, “giving a person no warning.”

The bike goes quiet then, and he swaps the keys for a pack of smokes in his pocket, leaning back like he got all the time in the world. “D’you hate me?” he asks.

“I might.”

“Oh, might.” He says it back like you don’t mean it, and won’t mean it, with another one of those funny throwaway noises following on after it. “I’ll take my luck with might.”

And what d’you say to that? Nothin, you say nothin, all you can say is, “Give me ten minutes.” 

Then you’re trotting back up the porch steps, hoping Mrs Saccone isn’t peeping through the curtains, and wondering what the Hell you’re gonna put on that’s any kind of suitable to go to a nice place with a Vandal on your arm. 

If it weren’t your life already, you wouldn’t believe any of it. This time just yesterday, you were at some square neck, office party, saying goodbye to some upper-level fucker—who never learned your name, and didn’t even thank-you for the half serious farewell note you left in the communal goodbye card—and tonight? God, if you weren’t so used to shit going unusually, you’d be pinching yourself. Real hard, too. 

Some man called Johnny, who you don’t know from Adam, swinging by to pick you up on his motorcycle. Yeah, ‘crazy bitch’ really is starting to feel like an appropriate title for you to have. Who would’a known?

........................

part two here

tagging: @drabbles-mc @garbinge