#just something short and sweet I hope that’s ok

[wrathofrats]

Hiii it’s @littlemoon-beams birthday and she’s literally so sweet and deserves the world like??? She’s always so nice to everyone and sometimes has fuckwads in her asks, so in honor of her and for her pls have some Mountain Dew fluff

Dew taking care of mountain because his hair is a fucking rats (haha) nest because he is so very bad at taking care of himself.

Dew kept a hand in the water, swirling it with his finger to watch the steam rise around it, keeping it warm. Mountain sighed and sunk deeper, bubbles rising to cover his chest and rest under his chin before giving a loud yelp as dew pulled on a particularly difficult knot.

“Gotta stay still mo, I’m trying my best” dew sighed, pushing him back down and picking at the knot with his comb once again.

“It hurts, you can’t get someone to use their magic to make it not hurt or something?”

“Well it wouldn’t hurt if you’d take care of it in the first place”

Mountain crossed his arms, sending a bit of water outside the tub. Hopefully onto dewdrop as revenge for being mean to him.

The conditioner was luxurious smelling, something he’s sure dew made papa spend a lot of money on, if he didn’t just straight up steal it. Wherever he got it was none of his business but he almost felt bad about dew using such good products just to get his hair smooth again.

Mountain had a bad habit of just not caring about it. He preferred it long, like dew and Swiss did but after working all day with it thrown up in some kind of lazy bun, it was the last thing he’d want to do to spend the time to untangle it. And he’d do that for as long as possible, before slinking to dew, Swiss, or cumulus to untangle his hair so he can live peacefully once again.

“Wish you’d brush it more, your hair is beautiful mountain” dew mumbled, mostly to himself as he admired the now smoothe section he could clip out of the way. Mountains hair was pretty, a nice darker brown that had highlights from the sun, and a nice wavy texture to it. He had more hair than dew and Swiss, probably combined, so it was no wonder he had an awful time taking care of it. Even if dew wished every day he would.

“I know, I try dew” mountain sighed

The bath was full of some lavender soap mountain had made at some point, probably for cumulus. Small lavender buds floating around him in the bubbles. He could sleep like this if he wanted to, dew brushing a smooth piece of hair over and over while he relaxes as the temperature rises a bit more with dews magic.

“I know you do mo,” dew said, brushing through the entirety of his hair, “if you ever want me to brush it after a long day, just ask, I’d love to”

“Thank you droplet” mountain let dew tip his head back into the water, massaging the conditioner out of it before bringing his head back up to squeeze the water out.

His head was suddenly warmer, dew brushing through his fingers.

“What are you doing now?”

“Shhh stop fussing, just drying it so I can braid it for you”

“You can’t braid it wet?”

Dew cringed, giving him a small chuckle as he wrapped the hair tie around the end.

“No, you can’t braid it while it’s wet”

[honnelander]

asdfghjkl I love your writing. Your Sanji & reader have my heart forreal 🫶🏼✨ keep up the great work 😘

Suggestion: reader having a niche hobby (like knitting/crocheting, or collecting shells, anything really LOL 😆 your choice) and Sanji’s reaction to that

you are soooo sweet thank you!! this request/suggestion was so cute, i loved it.

when i read "collecting shells" i immediately knew what i wanted to write for it and this is how i think go fish!Sanji would react to reader collecting sea shells as a niche hobby:

masterlist

When you had started collecting shells, it didn't start out as a hobby, far from it in fact. You didn't even know collecting sea shells was considered a hobby until Luffy pointed it out to you.

"Oh, wow! You collect shells y/n? How cool!" Luffy gushed with his signature bright smile that lit up his face. That's one of the things you loved about Luffy, he had the ability to make any rudimentary task seem like the most special thing ever. "What a cool hobby!"

And that was when your shell-collecting hobby was born. At first, you had just wanted a souvenir of some sort, just wanting a small piece of each island you visited so you could look back at your collection one day and remember all of the places you've ever been to.

It was something very special to you. So imagine how you felt when you nearly forgot to grab a shell one day, during a routine island pit stop to restock the ship's supplies, when the weather suddenly took a turn for the worst just as the straw-hat crew was making their way towards the ship.

You liked to grab a shell right before you left. Usually, you had your routine: you would go to the closest beach to where the Going Merry was docked at, take a moment to survey the assortment of shells scattered along the beach, and pick out the shell that most reflected your either long or short time on the island. You loved it.

But during that particular trip, your shell-collecting routine didn't go as planned and you nearly had a heart attack at the thought of missing a shell.

The weather had suddenly turned for the worst as you and the crew were walking back towards the Merry. All of a sudden, it started to downpour so everyone decided to run back to the ship as fast as they could before all of the ship's supplies got ruined (well, everyone except for Zoro, who was already back on the ship with his stuff, not wanting to stick around on any island longer than he had to).

As you all were running up the plank to board the ship one by one, Luffy suddenly called out to you from the dock as you tailed behind Nami with Sanji right behind you.

"Wait! Y/n!" he called out and you stopped at the top of the plank to look back at him through the rain. "What about your sea shell? Don't forget to go and grab one!"

You gasped and your eyes widened. Your heart nearly dropped at the thought of forgetting to grab a shell and in turn, forgetting all about your visit to this island. "My shell!"

"Your what?" Sanji asked loudly over the rain, next to you.

You quickly dropped your crate of supplies on the ship's deck, not caring anymore if they got wet or not. "I have to go get my sea shell!" you replied quickly, running past him and back to the dock.

"Don't worry, y/n, we will be waiting right here for you!" Luffy reassured with a nod. "Now go get your shell!" he yelled and raised his fist in the air.

You gave him a grateful smile as you dashed towards the nearest beach, Sanji watching you go with a curious look in his eye before bringing your supply crate inside and out of the rain.

That night, as Sanji was cleaning up the kitchen, you were still at the table finishing up the warm soup he had made that night for dinner (he loved that you were a slow eater, it meant that most nights he got to spend a little bit of extra alone time with you in his favorite place), he asked you about your niche hobby.

"Feeling better now?" Sanji asked, breaking the comfortable silence as he cleaned off one of his knives with a rag, sneaking a look at you with a small smile. "All warmed up from being out in the rain too long?"

You hummed in agreement. "Absolutely," you nearly purred in delight (Sanji felt his heartbeat stutter for a second at your tone. He's never heard you like that before). You looked at the chef with gratitude. "Your food always hits the spot Sanji, but the soup you made tonight just hit differently. It warmed me right up."

"Ok good," Sanji laughed softly, looking at you for a few seconds through his blonde hair, and flicked it to the side slightly. "I can't have you getting sick on me now." He finished cleaning off the one knife, setting it down on the counter, picking up another to clean before he asked with a raised brow, "So, uh, why did you go back today? Something about a sea shell?"

And that's how he learned about your niche hobby.

You told him all about it; about how you wanted a small token from everywhere you've ever been, how long you've been doing it, described some of your favorite sea shells you've found so far, and how you couldn't wait to show your collection to your kids and grandkids someday and in turn, telling them all about your adventures with the straw hat pirates.

As Sanji listened to you explain your hobby to him, he couldn't help but smile to himself, stealing glances at you every so often. He loved listening to you talk about the things you were passionate about. He loved the way your face lit up and your eyes sparkled.

And for something as unique and special as this? He loved it even more because he knew that this little hobby of yours went way beyond just collecting shells, it was your own way of physically manifesting your hopes and dreams. Each shell you acquired was another story you would tell your future kids about. You were sharing a part of your soul with him, and Sanji was completely enamored.

From that night forward, Sanji had decided that he too would start a sea shell collection of his own, without you knowing, so that someday in the future, he could surprise you and your kids with it, with the beautiful sea shells he had secretly collected right alongside you, his future wife, the whole time.

He couldn't wait to see the look on your face someday.

taglist: @mischiefmanaged71 @smolracoon25 @smol-book-nerd @shuujin @amanda08319 @nimtano @your-platonic-gay-lover @lovelymrvl @whiskeypowder

[therosevest]

having a moment. it's like. something else to have someone be so genuine and openly interested and swoony im not um. very easily accustomed to this yk it's like cognitive dissonance unfortunately. as much as i want to be with it

[mishtershpock]

.

[witchywithwhiskey]

in the woods with a couple of masked men

pairing: bucky barnes & steve rogers x female reader

summary: you've been flirting with steve rogers and bucky barnes for a month at the bar you all frequent with your friends, and on Halloween, when you tell them about your fantasy of being chased through the woods by masked men or men, they decide to make it a reality.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), threesome, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (m receiving), chase kink, mask kink, light bdsm, light degradation, praise kink, light choking, roughness, check-ins, pet names (baby, sweetheart, pretty girl, sweet girl) aftercare, halloween shenanigans

word count: 3.6k

a/n: this was my idea for my third and final halloween fic this year and i was really disappointed that i ran out of time to do a fully developed version, but i figured i'd put together something short and (hopefully) hot. this still ended up longer than i expected, but it's much shorter than my normal halloween fics so i hope that's ok 😅 happy (almost) halloween y'all!! ♡

halloween fics masterlist

"What do you want for Halloween, pretty girl?"

"I want a masked man—or men—to chase me through the woods and fuck me to within an inch of my life," you answered, a wicked smirk curling the corners of your mouth. 

Your eyes slid away from the men you were talking to, casting a glance around the dingy dive bar that was more crowded than normal on Halloween night. You cut your eyes back to them and lifted a single shoulder in an apathetic shrug, your smirk still flirting at the edges of your lips.

"Y'know, just what every girl wants for Halloween."

You were talking to Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, who you’d met a month before Halloween. One of their friends had started flirting with one of your friends at the bar you all liked to frequent, and as that relationship blossomed into more than flirting, you started seeing them more. 

You'd gravitated to the handsome best friends, unable to resist talking to them, drinking with them, commiserating with them as your friends grew more and more flagrant with their public displays of affection. Besides, Bucky and Steve hadn't seemed to mind the way you'd laugh at their jokes—even the not-so-great ones—or lean against them when you grew tired late into the night. 

Still, you didn't know what impulse had prompted you to tell them about your deepest, darkest fantasy. It must've been some deadly combination of loneliness and recklessness, and the ease you felt when you were around Steve and Bucky. But you couldn’t bring yourself to take it back. 

Not when the men reacted by sharing a look like they planning something. Just the thought that they might be thinking about indulging your fantasy made you squeeze your thighs together and lean into the heat emanating from them.

Of course, you were also a little chilly, having worn a skimpy little dress as part of your Halloween costume, but you leaned closer to Steve and Bucky in the crowded bar for warmth and to inhale the intoxicating scent of their cologne, which sent more curls of heat dancing through your veins. 

Without looking away from each other, their arms wrapped around you and they crushed you between their chests while they continued their silent conversation. You waited patiently, soaking up Bucky and Steve’s warmth until they turned to you, matching grins on their faces.

After a hushed conversation and a couple rounds of Steve and Bucky asking, "Are you sure you want this, sweet girl?" you found your friends and told them you were leaving with the men. 

You told your friends you had your phone on you and promised to keep your location turned on, to check in when you were on your way home. Your friends cackled happily for you and shooed you off with Bucky and Steve. 

When you got to the woods, Steve and Bucky each slipped on a Ghostface mask. Your breath caught in your lungs when you saw the big, muscled men dressed in all black and wearing the masks, your heart beating faster in your chest as excitement and desire churned in your belly. 

One of them said they were giving you a 30-second head start, so you turned and bolted into the trees, running as fast as you could to put as much distance between you and them in the short time they’d given you. But only 10 seconds later, you heard them start to chase you. 

You didn't have the breath to call out and accuse them of cheating, you were too focused on making the game as hard for them as possible. So you ran harder through the woods, losing them in the spindly trees cast in shades of silvery blue by the light of the moon.

For long moments, you ran without hearing anything behind you. You didn't know if you were truly giving Bucky and Steve a run for their money or if they were playing with you, but you didn't hear them chasing you until your lungs were burning and your legs were aching. 

All at the same time, you heard a twig snap, the rustle of leaves. A hand snatched at your skimpy little dress, snapping it against your skin when you pulled out of their grasp. A grunt of frustration sounded as a scream welled in your throat, but you couldn't let it loose through your panting, gasping breaths as you ran on. 

Fingers closed around your wrist and you shrieked in surprise, whirling around to wrench yourself free as you ran, turning to look over your shoulder and catching a glimpse of the eerie white Ghostface mask with its yawning, wide open mouth. 

That glance you spared for your pursuer would be what got you caught—the first time.

With your head turned to look over your shoulder, you didn't see where you were going, and you crashed right into a big, hard chest. You bounced off it with your momentum, but strong arms wound around your waist, holding you pinned to the warm body pressed flush to your curves.

"Got you, baby," came a muffled voice through the mask.

You couldn't for the life of you tell which man it was, whether it was Bucky or Steve. Although, it didn’t really matter to you, your body burned with desire for each of them equally. 

"What're you gonna give me to let you go?” the man taunted, his mask tipping down in such a way that you knew his eyes were dragging down to your cleavage, which was in danger of spilling out over the low neckline of your dress. "C'mon, slut, you look like you know how to please a man—so please me, and I'll let you go."

Arousal swirled through your body at the degrading way he spoke to you—you’d told Steve and Bucky back at the bar that you liked a little degradation and you were pleased that they were running with it. You couldn't help the impish smirk that spread across your face in response to the man’s filthy request.

"You're right, dirty man, I know exactly what to give you," you purred running your hands down the man's chest and trying to catch his eye through the mask. 

Staring into the spooky visage of the Ghostface mask, you began lowering yourself to your knees and the man helped guide you down. His hands worked open the front of his jeans, undoing them and pulling out his cock while you settled on the cold, leaf-covered ground.

Without preamble, you sucked the man's half-hard cock into your mouth, relishing the way he groaned above you. His hands cradled your head, petting you idly while you licked along the velvety soft shaft, humming happily as you felt him harden against your tongue. He tasted musky, his scent filling your senses and making you gush with wetness between your thighs.

The man’s moans were loud in the forest as you bobbed on his cock, sucking him harder and faster and pushing him closer to his release. Distantly, you wondered where the other man was, but didn't concern yourself overmuch with it as you focused on making the man in front of your cum.

When you could feel that he was just about to let go, his thick cock throbbing against your tongue, you pulled away and broke free from his hold, leaping to your feet and darting off into the woods. His ferocious, frustrated roar followed you through the trees and you couldn't help the cackling laughter that tumbled from your lips as you ran.

Immediately, you could hear the man crashing through the underbrush after you and you had to wonder if he'd even paused to put his cock away before bolting after you. 

It seemed you hadn’t learned your lesson, because you risked a glance over your shoulder, trying to get a peak of whether he was chasing you with his cock out, and at that moment, a hand reached out and grabbed your arm, towing you into another strong, broad chest.

"What'd you do to him, sweetheart?" came another muffled voice as the second man pinned your back against a tree, caging you in with his thick arms.

You couldn't help but laugh as you told him how you'd left the other man with his cock out and throbbing with need, teetering on the edge of his release. From behind his eerie Ghostface mask, the man in front of you tsked, shaking his head slowly, almost like he pitied you.

"You're gonna pay for that, pretty girl," he murmured in a husky, muffled voice. His hands slid down the sides of your body, making you shiver at the way he groped you softly, reverently. He was cupping your tits and squeezing your hips in a way that made your body hum with heat as he said, "If you're a good girl for me, maybe I'll convince him to go easy on you."

Warm palms skimmed down the outside of your thighs, fingers curling in the hem of your dress before pushing it up higher and higher… 

You almost wanted to give in, to be good for him. Almost.

Instead, you scoffed, "Yeah, right,” and shoved roughly against the man's muscled chest. Though he barely budged, the movement dislodged his hands from your body and you managed to slip away from him, taking off again into the woods.

The man's loud laughter followed you, which was even more deliciously terrifying than the other man's roar had been. 

Fleeing from both of the men, you tried to run harder, but you were growing tired—both of running and the game.

It was a good thing, then, that you didn't get far. 

It seemed Bucky and Steve were sick of the game as well, because only a few seconds after the man’s laughter died in the night sky, a large body crashed into your back, tackling you to the forest floor. 

Whoever caught you wound an arm around your waist and braced a hand against the ground so you didn't get hurt, but you still landed with a soft, "oof," of surprise. The body at your back covered you with its weight, pushing you deeper into the cold, damp leaves blanketing the dirt.

"I'm gonna make you regret leaving me like that, slut," said a gruff, menacing voice in your ear. A hand was pushing up your dress and ripping your panties down your legs while another was fumbling with a zipper, his knuckles grazing your bare ass. 

The head of a cock grazed your folds, which were drenched with your desire, and your fingers sank into the soft soil beneath you as you arched into him, biting back a desirous moan. The man's hand grabbed your waist, leaning over you so the cold plastic of the Ghostface mask butted into your shoulder. 

"You good, pretty girl?" he rumbled, his voice gentler as he checked in with you.

Your body, which had been tense an intoxicating mix of fear and arousal, relaxed at the question and you smiled, turning your head to catch the man's eye through the mesh of the mask. You shot him a playful smirk.

"Fuck me hard, filthy man," you purred, arching beneath him and pushing against the hard ridge of his cock so it slid through your slippery folds. "Show me how a dirty little slut like me deserves to be fucked."

The man groaned, shifting his hips so he could sink into your wet heat with one thrust, wringing a cry from your lips as his thick girth stretched your tight cunt. When his hips were pressed flush with your ass, he paused and you both took a moment to breathe and adjust to the feel of him inside your pussy.

You didn’t know if the other man had been watching you, timing it perfectly, but it was at that exact moment that he stepped in front of you, dropping down onto his knees as he undid the button and fly of his jeans. He spread his thick thighs and sank down onto his haunches so his cock was level with your face when he pulled it out. 

"Why don't you show me what that pretty mouth can do, sweet girl," the man cooed, his voice distractingly patronizing even muffled through the mask. "Be a good girl and suck my cock while your pussy gets pounded."

You didn't need any more encouraging than that, lifting yourself up onto your arms so you could lick along the thick ridge on the underside of the man's cock, smirking when he groaned. 

"Ya like that, perv?" you teased in between pressing wet, suckling kisses to the velvet-wrapped steel of his shaft. "Like getting your cock played with by a slut you caught in the woods?" 

"Fuck yes," he groaned, cupping your head in his hands and urging you closer to the tip. You wrapped your lips around the head, enjoying the taste of his precum leaking onto your tongue, and sucked him hard. "Oh fuck, your mouth feels so fucking good, sweetheart."

You'd planned to tease the man's tip a little longer, but the man behind you seemed to be done letting you adjust to having two cocks in your holes. He pulled his hips back and slammed inside you again, burying his full length in your pussy and pushing you forward, forcing you to take the other man deeper. 

The cock in your mouth brushed against the back of your throat and you gagged at the unexpected feeling. The man in front of you sat back quickly, pulling free of your lips and letting you suck in air while you coughed and recovered.

"Careful, dickhead," he growled, his voice still muffled through his mask so you couldn't tell whether he was Steve or Bucky. His hands idly stroked the top of your head and you found yourself leaning into the soft gesture.

"Sorry," the other man mumbled, his hands squeezing your hips apologetically.

"No, no, I want it rough," you said in a husky voice, straining your body to get your mouth back on the cock in front of your face. You pressed a kiss to the underside of the man's length, looking up at him from under your lashes. "I told you not to hold back—I want everything you can give me, please.” 

"Fuck," the man in front of you grunted at the same time the man behind you groaned, starting to thrust into you slowly, making you feel every inch of his cock dragging along the inside of your pussy. The man who'd spoken stroked his fingers down your cheeks, catching a tear that had escaped when you'd gagged. "You're gonna spoil us, sweet girl, letting us use your pretty holes like that."

"Good," you said firmly, before swirling your tongue around the tip of his cock, moaning at the taste of him. You couldn’t wait to swallow his cum, to be filled of both of them. “Then maybe you guys will do this again with me."

"Fuck yes we will, baby," the man behind you groaned, covering you with his body and pinning you into the forest floor while his hand wrapped loosely around the front of your throat. His mask bumped against your cheek as he spoke in your ear. "We'll fuck you anytime and anywhere you want, pretty girl—all ya gotta do is ask."

A delirious smile curved your lips and you were just about to make some sassy comment, but then he thrust hard into your pussy, wrenching a sharp cry from your mouth as pleasure spiraled through your body. The other man used the opportunity of your parted lips to thrust his cock inside your mouth, careful not to go too deep. 

Steve and Bucky worked your body in tandem, one of them pinning you to the cold ground and fucking you from behind, while the other held your head steady and fucked your mouth. All you could do was take everything they gave you, never knowing which one was which, moaning as they pushed you to the edge of pleasure.

You were writhing on the ground, your hands grasping at the damp leaves and the thick, jeans-clad thighs of the man in front of you, searching for something to hold onto as your pleasure spiraled higher. You were arching your back to take the cock deeper into your pussy, whining pitifully as you begged wordlessly for your release, unable to control yourself when you were so desperate to cum.

The men must've understood because they hauled you up onto your hand and knees, never removing their cocks from your holes. As they continued to fuck you, they positioned your body so that the man behind you could slip his hand between your thighs and find your needy, aching clit.

"Cum for us, slut," he growled in your ear. 

The other man thumbed the tears from your cheeks as he pushed his cock deep into your mouth. He'd opened your throat enough for him so you didn't gag too much, but he fucked you through it anyway, until his cock was rubbing against the other man's hand as it bulged in your neck. 

"Be a good girl, sweetheart, and cum on our cocks," the man in front of you urged, his balls pushing against your chin as he buried himself in your mouth and groaning when your muscles contracted as you swallowed around him. "Wanna feel you scream on my dick."

"Yeah, baby, gotta feel your sweet cunt milk me," the other man groaned into your ear, rubbing your clit unrelentingly while he pounded into you hard enough you could hear the sharp sounds of his hips smacking against your ass. "C'mon, don't you want us to fill your holes with our cum—cum for your masked men, sweet girl.”

You didn't know what tipped you over the edge—whether it was the muffled, filthy words or the fingers on your clit, or the pair of cocks ruthlessly fucking your holes—but something set you off, and you came harder than you ever had before.

A shrieking scream worked its way up inside you, making the man in front of you moan loudly when your throat constricted around his hard length. The man behind you grunted as your pussy clenched on his cock, and he buried himself to the root, moaning at the feel of your inner walls sucking him in deeper.

Pleasure consumed your mind thoroughly, overwhelming you entirely as your body trembled violently. You tried to stay in position for the men, but you knew it was their hands more than your own strength holding you up as the ecstasy of your release wrecked you.

The man in front of you came first, holding your head pinned to his abdomen and spilling his seed down your throat while you swallowed weakly, some of it spilling out around the shaft of his cock and joining the spit and tears making a mess of your face. 

The other man followed a moment later, pressing his hips flush against your ass and coming with a filthy groan, his mask pressed to your shoulder blade and his arms wrapped around your waist while you felt his cock twitch deep inside you.

In the cold, dark forest on Halloween night, the three of you rode out your pleasure together for long, hazy moments. But when the chill of the air seeped into your cooling skin and you began to shiver, Bucky and Steve pulled themselves free from your body and gathered you up in their strong arms. 

Together, they helped you stand, fussing around you as they fixed your dress and tugged leaves from your hair. One of them draped a hooded sweatshirt around your shoulders while the other used your discarded panties to clean the mess from between your thighs.

You'd lost track of who was who as they circled around you to clean you up, so even when Steve and Bucky pulled off their Ghostface masks, you didn't know which of them had fucked your mouth and which had fucked your pussy. 

You didn't care overmuch, it was fun not knowing. Besides, you knew if you asked, they'd tell you which man was which.

"Doing good, pretty girl?" Steve cooed sweetly, dropping his lips to kiss your cheek. His fingers smoothed away the grit of your ruined makeup, making you smile.

"Yeah, so good," you said in a dreamy, breathless voice, catching his eye so he could see the honesty in your gaze when you told him, "Best Halloween ever." 

Bucky chuckled at your statement and tucked you into his side beneath his arm, turning you in a direction you assumed would bring you back to the car they’d driven out to the woods.

"Let's get you home, sweet girl," Bucky murmured, brushing a kiss against your temple while Steve slid in on your other side, his arm wrapping around your waist. They held you clutched between their bodies, and you felt nothing but warm, sated and happy. "You've had your halloween fun with your two masked men, now it's time to rest."

"Yes, sir," you said on an exhale. Though you'd been trying for a playful tone, your voice was soft and sweet and you found you meant it. You trusted them to take care of you, and you let your head fall on Steve's shoulder, snuggling into him while you let the best friends guide you back to the car.

Once Bucky had tucked you into his lap on the passenger’s seat, you texted your friends to let them know you were ok while Steve drove you home. The men helped you inside and, at your request, stayed the night, cuddling up with you in your bed. 

That night, you fell asleep with a smile on your face snuggled between Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes knowing you got what every girl wants (or, at least, what you wanted): some fun in the woods with a couple of masked men—and a Halloween night to remember.

halloween fics masterlist

[reidrum]

porcelain doll | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

a/n: writers block is a bitch fr but somehow this came out! i just wanna say that if you relate to reader or just have qualms in general about intercourse that its okay and its normal and you're still a wonderful human being at the end of the day ok that is all i love you mwah

cw: smut 18+ minors dni, fingering, making out, no p in v sex but talks about it, reader has an ambiguous reason for it hurting cuz there are like so many gdm reasons it can hurt it's ridiculous, hurt/comfort, fluff, afab reader, spencer is a loving and supportive boyfriend, i proofread this once sorry

summary: you'd been keeping quiet about something personal that you knew you should tell spencer but just couldn't find the right time for, but now it's all come to a head in a hot heat of the moment and you're forced to confront it

wc: 2.6k

_______________________________________________

you meant to tell spencer about it when you first started dating.

it’s not something that comes up to discuss in a natural context, like over coffee or at work. by the time you and spencer had actually started dating, you hoped there would be a quiet moment where you could tell him, but even when soft moments came and went your anxiety was the ruling emotion and prevented you from telling him.

that brings you to this moment right now— you straddled over spencer’s lap on his couch with your arms around his neck, his on your waist, wildly kissing him. you had just come home from the bar with the girls, and spencer couldn’t help himself with how pretty you looked as he pulled you to the couch and perched you on his lap.

still being in the somewhat early stages of your relationship, your intimacy with him never went past making out, with you most of the time tapping out after getting too overwhelmed. and spencer always respected your boundaries.

don’t get it wrong, you both still had a lot of fun when things got heated. if you could kiss him every second of the day you would. but being able to feel how much fun he was having always left a pang of guilt in your heart after always stopping. he’d always be heavily panting, trying so hard to hide the discomfort in his pants, and the most you could do in return was dissociate and live in false ignorance about it. it didn’t help that he still so devastatingly kind to you after.

but here you were on his couch tonight, and something felt different. a desire you hadn’t felt before taking over your senses as your bodies intertwined. it’s like every time you’re with him, he makes you almost forget all the insecurities that eat away at you.

almost.

spencer moves his mouth down your neck, leaving a trail of hot love bites before he finds your sweet spot. you angle your head more so he can get better access, and moan out at how fucking good it feels.

he moves his hand to the waist of your shorts, looks up at you silently asking for permission to remove them. you nod and he maneuvers them off, returning to straddle him. his hands move to knead the flesh where your hips meet your thighs, every movement delicate and intentional. it’s like with every touch he transfers his love for you through his fingertips to drive you absolutely crazy.

you subconsciously grind down on him, putting a pressure he wasn’t expecting as he groans lowly in your ear, “fu-uck.” it warms your heart a little, knowing the effect you have on him. your hands tangle in hair and pull firmly letting spencer moan into your mouth as he moves a hand further down your body.

“this okay still?” he breathlessly asks as he toys with the lining of your panties.

you nod again, not trusting your words at the moment. a sinking feeling starts to brew in your gut, as you can easily predict where the next events are going. he’s being so kind to you, and you feel sexy with the way he’s eating you alive with his eyes and touches. the guilt would chip you away if you had led him on this long only to stop right before the good part, just because you couldn’t handle it or something.

but he starts to stroke you outside your panties, and you have to admit that it feels vaguely good. you continue to bury your head in the crook of his neck in the hopes of masquerading any facial expressions contradictory to your words. you just want spencer to feel good, and this is the first step to reaching that goal.

spencer takes the soft breaths blowing in his ear as a sign to keep going, and hooks a finger on the cloth to pull it aside. he runs a single digit up and down your slit, swiping by your entrance to gather the wetness to spread around. when he circles back to give your clit attention you shakily moan out his name and his arm grips you tighter around your waist. you feel his finger descend again and prods around for the entrance again before gently sliding in.

the last five minutes you had been praying repeatedly and silently in your head, please let it be different this time, please don’t let me ruin this perfectly great relationship, please let my body just do what it’s meant to do.

but your prayers are left unheard, and all you can feel is hot, burning pain.

it tears through you, a feeling incomparable to walking on fire rocks even. it’s overwhelming, all consuming, things you would typically describe a normal sexual experience but here your body was, in a cruel twist of fate by being on the complete opposite end of that spectrum.

most of all, it just fucking hurts. point blank, you don’t see it subsiding anytime soon. you hoped the sentiment of making this good for spencer would overtake the signals being sent to your pain receptors. but it doesn’t, it actually intensifies the emotional pain in your heart that you know will weigh on you once this is over.

spencer being the darling lover he is holding you so gently, and yet instead your body betrays his gentle loving touches and receives them with malice. 

how dare you?

after a couple minutes, you can’t take it anymore. the panic starts to rise in your chest— from the pain, the guilt, all crashing down like an avalanche preparing to leave you stranded in the rubble.

“spencer…” you grit out.

“yeah baby?” he hums.

“can we-, i think i need to…” you strain. the pain is spreading throughout your body like a forest fire, uncontainable and devastating.

spencer slows his ministrations and pulls back a little, noticing the faint red rings forming in your eyes from the unshed tears, “hey, what’s wrong?” he pulls out his finger complete, subtly wiping it on his pants (which you’ll gawk at later because, who is this man?). even after the removal it’s left you scorned, and you feel it breaking your resolve fast.

“are you okay?” spencer tries to peer into your eyes again, voice laced with worry and dread.

you open your mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. you’re in shock, you think. and you’re feeling a lot of emotions, too many emotions all huddled up in your head begging for control.

spencer sits still below you deeply concerned and confused, “sweetheart, what’s going on?” he desperately tries one more time.

you think your brain has finally settled on what to feel.

mortification.

you squeeze your eyes shut, harshly rubbing them with sweaty hands, “i’m okay, i’ll be right back.” and you don’t give him time to rebuttal as you swing off him and bolt to the bathroom in record speed. after you shut the door and lock it, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. and then everything else falls out too.

your arms clutch your stomach in distress as the panic settles in you, sliding down the wall as you sit on the floor with your knees tucked under your chin. tears blur your vision, and the deep breaths are counterintuitive as they seem to make you more and more lightheaded.

a faint knocking seems to cast a line to bring you back down, and another firmer knock solidifying it.

spencer softly says your name, “can we talk? i just want to know that you’re okay.”

a pang of guilty shoots up your heart and you let out a big sniffle inadvertently, and spencer finds an unknowingly matching pang shooting up his own heart.

“i’m sorry if i hurt you, sweetheart.”

that was the final blow, and you fully begin to sob on the bathroom floor. how selfish of a person were you to let him feel guilty for something that was entirely your fault?

“you didn’t do anything,” you say between cries, “i’m just, being weird.”

spencer isn’t convinced, “will you let me in?” he says softly.

you contemplate the outcomes. he comes in, you tell him about your irregularity, he gets upset with you for not telling him and because you don’t work. or you don’t let him in, he gets upset with you and your stubbornness, deciding it’s no longer worth it to deal with you and he leaves.

solid choices, you think.

swiping at the tears falling still, you think you can’t feel any lower than you do right now. so you reach up and unlock the door but don’t move to open it.

he hears the click of the lock turning and knows he has to open the door. the handle turns and spencer pokes his head through, “i’m coming in, okay?”

you don’t respond, your head still finding solace in your bunched up knees. you faintly hear the door creak open and a figure move in.

if spencer’s heart wasn’t clenching before, someone’s now got it in a death grip with how distraught you look is making him feel. he doesn’t enter your bubble, he doesn’t feel it’s appropriate at the moment. instead he sits in the open doorway, hoping it offers you a comfortable space to know that he’s there but not enough to overwhelm you.

you both sit in silence for what feels like forever, spencer knows it’s ten minutes and thirty two seconds, when you let out the smallest and faintest, “i’m sorry.”

“you didn’t do anything,” he immediately says, itching to move closer to you, “i just want to know what happened, angel.”

your eyes scrunch up in frustration, “ugh, it’s not-“ you falter, this was not how you pictured this conversation going.

he waits for you to continue. “i have this…thing.” you start.

“thing..?”

why does it feel so embarrassing to say out loud, he has three phds and hunts serial killers this cannot be the worst thing he’s heard.

it’s definitely the most vulnerable though.

you turn your body 180 degrees so you’re not facing him, thinking it would be easier to confess to him if he’s not staring you down, “when i like, put things down there… it hurts.”

“what kind of hurt?”

“it’s like a…really intense pain. that doesn’t go away.”

spencer ponders for a couple seconds, “is that what happened a couple minutes ago?”

you nod your head into your knees, letting the fresh hot tears wet your kneecaps. it’s humiliating.

he inches closer, “angel, did you think i was going to be mad?”

you sniffle, “are you not?”

a tentative hand rests on your back, “not at all,” he whispers, “i was just really worried about you.”

worried. people have been angry, apathetic, even sad (for themselves) when you told them. but never worried.

you suppose spencer reid has always been different, defying any preconceptions anyone previous had imposed on you. he always offered you kindness and love when you couldn’t find any for yourself. it was unfair, how much he loved you, and how you couldn’t show him how much you loved him back.

you clear your throat, “it just makes me feel…broken? to not be able to do the one thing my body is made to do. in the past it’s been a dealbreaker for a lot of people, and understandably so.”

spencer has moved to sit in front of you, inches away. he reaches a hand up to push a tendril of hair behind your ear, letting his palm rest upon your jaw. his eyes hold nothing but love, and he waits patiently for you to continue.

“i’m really sorry i didn’t say anything, i meant to tell you when we first started dating,” your voice gets higher as the emotion floods your throat, “but everything was going so good, i didn’t want to ruin it.”

you add one final blow before receding, “i thought when i told you, i would offer you an out to go sleep with some other girl just so you could have that experience.” you lament.

spencer lets your words sit in the air for a few moments before softly saying, “can i hold you?” 

he thinks it’s better to have you in his arms before he talks, because as much as his words could comfort you he thinks it can’t hurt for you to feel physically held together after all that’s torn you down.

if he wasn’t watching you so intently he would’ve missed the faint nod you give him. you’re scooped into his embrace with your head tucked under his chin and into his neck. he has one hand supporting your back and the other drawing letters into your thighs, and leans his chin to rest atop your head.

“first of all, please don’t ever feel like you have to ‘offer me an out’, especially for things that are really serious like this.”

“but it’s not fai-“ you try to argue.

“no. you can’t do that. you won’t do that. i don’t care what you’ve been told in the past, but loving and having you means holding every part of you, especially the ones you try to hide. i am not here to pick and choose what i want.”

he holds you the way you would a porcelain doll, achingly beautiful yet terrifyingly fragile.

“my sweet girl, you are not broken. i promise. penetration is not the end all for sex, and it’s not the only way to have sex. studies show that 75% of women feel pain during penetration, sometimes it can be related to stress or anxiety, which i’m sure on top of all that you deal with, that me leaving for cases all the time can’t help.”

he cups your cheek with his warm palm and angles your face to meet his eyes.

“what matters to me the most is that you feel good, and if you don’t feel good then it’s not worth doing in the first place.” he whispers, “if this is something you want to work on in the future, i will be there to help and support you however i can. but if you don’t want to do anything, i will still be there to support you. always. there is no dealbreaker for me, you are it.”

with red stained eyes you look up at him, “are you sure?”

“i’m sure,” he reinforces, “i love you. i don’t think a version of me exists where i am not loving you. you occupy an embarrassingly large amount of my brain, and there’s a lot of stuff in there.” you giggle and spencer feels flowers blooming in his chest.

you sigh and wrap your arms tighter around him, “i love you too, spence.”

you both sit in silence, basking in each others presence.

“you looked so beautiful tonight, i don’t think i told you when you came home.” he softly speaks, stroking your hair.

fiddling with a button on his shirt you reply, “thank you, honey. penny told me to buy that dress, said it’d drive you insane.”

he breathes out, “she was right. i don’t even know if i said anything to you, i was borderline delirious seeing you come home to me.”

you lean up to place a smiley kiss on his neck, “i’ll always come home to you, for as long as you’ll have me.”

“i think i’ll be having you forever.”

“woah,” you smirk, “that sounds borderline stalkerish. better be careful, my boyfriend’s an fbi agent.” 

spencer’s eyes narrow, “i could probably take him.”

“eh.”

“eh?”

[hannieehaee]

How about Joshua with a s/o who always wears baggy clothes and doesnt feel attractive because she doesnt wear revealing ones ?

If u want to write it pls do it only if u are ok with it and feel inspired ♡♡

content: bf!joshua, established relationship, some talk about insecurities, fluff, etc.

wc: 605

a/n: so sorry i took so long to write this!!

masterlist

"hey, babe, have you seen my shirt? you know, the grey one with the loose neck? i thought i- oh."

"huh? what was that?", you asked as you took out an earbud, turning to look at the boy who'd been trying to call your attention.

chuckling, he rounded the kitchen island to reach your side, hands practically attaching to your waist like magnets as he aided you in removing the other earbud, placing both on the counter next to you.

"i was just wondering where my band tee went, but i think i have my answer," he chuckled, pressing a sweet peck to your temple.

"oh, fuck. sorry, josh. do you want it? i can go change," you went to disconnect from him, but he wasnt having it, instead nuzzling his head on your shoulder.

"hm. it smells of my cologne still," he said almost to himself, "you don't have to take it off. i like you in my clothes," he reassured.

you could only scoff.

"your clothes are baggy on me. just like all my other clothes. what difference does it really make?"

joshua shrugged, "just like knowing you're wearing something of mine. you're style's cute. you're cute."

"flattery will get you everywhere, hong," you laughed.

it was one of those nice, domestic moments that occurred every so often. you basked in it, enjoying it before the two of you went back to your regular days.

it wasn't until later that you started to think about what you'd said to joshua earlier.

you did have a tendency to wear baggier clothes. hell, there really was no difference between wearing something of his and a piece of your own. it was incredibly rare for you to show skin or any sort of silhouette, and those instances were really reserved for nights too warm to handle in which you had to opt for some shorts and a tank top.

but even then, you went for looser ensembles. clothes that showed your figure were never really your forte.

you couldn't help but wonder if this ever bothered josh. would he have preferred if your style varied more? what if he thought of you as a prude? maybe he-

"what's got you thinking so loud?", the boy in question interrupted your inner turmoil.

you hadn't realized as you sat in front of your vanity, face wash in hand and still unused, that you'd frozen in place as you thought. his presence in the restroom hadn't registered until he spoke.

"just, uh," you pondered as to whether or not to voice your concerns, but his compassionate smile reflecting on the mirror made you decide, "i was thinking that maybe you'd like it better if i dressed differently? you know, maybe show more skin?"

you voiced it as a question, insecurities building in you as you sought a direct expression of his preferences.

"are you kidding? i like how you dress. and it's not really something that bothers me. you're comfortable and you're beautiful. it's a win-win situation for me," he kind of chuckled as he spoke, finding your question very sudden and unnecessary.

"oh."

you felt a bit dumb now.

"has this been worrying you? you know i'm like obsessed with you, right? you could wear a trash bag and i'd still be as obsessed," he joked, closing in on you similarly to how he'd done earlier in the day.

he finished his statement with a kiss pressed to your lips, humming when you kissed back.

"this just gives me free reign of your closet. i hope you know that," you jested.

"baby, i'm rich. take whatever you want."

[cranberrv]

thunder

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ in which dallas winston loses his temper

( a/n : HIII im sorry if this wasnt ur vision but i dont think dallas is one for big apologies so i kinda focused on the arguement more than the apology hope that’s ok… also toxic dallas alert sorry if that isnt ur scene!! also not proofread but hope u cuties enjoy )

it was a late night in mid-summer, and you and dallas were on the porch on the curtis brothers house. he wanted to go out for a smoke, and dragged you along. you were wearing his leather jacket, it was a windy night and you were getting chilly. dallas had goosebumps along his arms.

“are you sure you don’t want it back, dal?” you ask him, insisting on giving him his jacket back.

“nah, sugar, don’t want ya freezin’ to death out here,” he answers, taking a drag of his cigarette as he looks out at the empty street.

“i’ll just go inside, though, so you don’t get hypothermia or something..” you insist, but he grabs your hand and stops you.

“you’re fine, baby, stay with me.” you look up at him and nod, squeezing his hand a bit tighter.

you stand outside for a little while longer. it feels so peaceful standing there with him. his hand that’s rough and dangerous from the punches it throws is enveloping yours in a sweet gentleness shown only with you. his cigarette smoke becoming a mock mist that calms you both down. his deep breathes that are only heard because of how quiet it is.

nothing could ruin this moment.

you felt it was a good time to say the three words. not like you hadn’t said them before — it’s been a year since you’ve started dating, and you’ve both adored each other from the very start. but dallas got funny when you told him what he already knew. tonight would be different, you thought.

“.. i love ya, dal,” you say softly after a few moments of quiet. it felt casual — exactly what he would have wanted. but maybe not casual enough, because there was a short silence following your words.

eventually, he speaks. “i know ya do, sugar.”

you sigh. why is it that he could never stand to say it back?

he catches your sigh. of course he knows what you’re sighing about — he knows you all too well. he chooses not to act on it, not to apologize, not to say anything. he doesn’t want to fight with you. he just takes a drag of his cigarette and plays innocent.

“it would be nice to know that you loved me too, dallas,” you eventually say.

“oh c’mon,” another drag of his cigarette. “you ain’t an idiot, you know i do.”

“do i? i can’t remember one time you’ve said ‘i love you’ to me,” you cross your arms and look up at him.

“this isn’t somethin’ to get pressed on, y/n, the boys are inside and the windows are open,” he puts a hand on your shoulder, trying to get you to stop talking, to pretend like you’re okay. all because he doesn’t want his friends to hear. “and i have said it, baby, you’re just forgetting or somethin’.”

“you have not, i would remember if you have,” you counter, shoving his hand off of you. “i don’t want to argue, dallas, i really don’t—“

“too damn bad, y/n, because you’re sayin’ that i don’t love you, and we both know that ain’t true,”

“then say it.”

“..what?”

“you heard me,” you say. “it has been a whole year of us dating, and you’re never ready to say that you love me,” you raise your voice to get your point across.

“christ, y/n, you’re difficult, huh?” he groans. “it ain’t a big deal, don’t go throwing a tantrum.”

“i’m difficult? dallas, i don’t know if you get how a relationship works, but at this point, you either love me, or you’re done with me. there is no middle ground after this long together.”

“you’re fuckin’ crazy, i know how a relationship works, and i ain’t done with you. don’t go stickin’ words in my mouth,” his voice is raising, too.

“if you’re not done with me, then you love me.” you say, in a desperate attempt to get him to say the three words. you almost want to beg. “it hurts, dallas, that i don’t get that reassurance, that i leave our dates with my words hanging in the air, waiting for a reply,”

he groans. “you know that i do, so what’s the fuckin’ point?”

“you’re unbelievable.”

he scoffs, his voice raising. not quite yelling, but definitely not talking. “holy fuck, you know that i love you, man, so quit bein’ such a bitch!”

the crease in your eyebrow drops as he says that. “don’t call me that,”

“c’mon, man, you’re acting like a fuckin’ lunatic trying to get me to admit somethin’ that i’ve already admitted,” he says, voice still raised. “take a deep breath, maybe get a glass of water, and come back to me once you’re normal again.”

you scoff. “because i’m expressing my feelings, suddenly i’m a lunatic? because i’m not like your old girls, and i actually strive for a healthy relationship, i’m not normal?”

“you’re freakin’ out because i didn’t say it back once, of course i think you’re going crazy.”

“i’m ‘freaking out’ because it’s been a year of ‘thank you’ and ‘i know’ whenever i tell you i love you,”

“you’re being a dumbass, y/n, you know i—“ he cuts himself off, sighing and taking a step back. “fine, man, whatever, you win. go inside and call bucks when you’ve cooled off, i’m goin’ home,”

when he walks past you, the air is thick and unwelcoming. you don’t even bother getting the last word, dreading the fact that he might turn back and lose his shit if you do. he mutters something incoherent under his breath, and walks down the creeky front porch steps, into the dead of night.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

of course, you don’t call bucks. why would you? just so buck can tell you that dallas isn’t there, when in reality he just doesn’t want to talk to you? just so suddenly you’re bending to his will, and he’s getting his way once again? you don’t think so.

dallas does this a lot — whenver you two fight, even if it’s a small one, he needs time to cool off. sometimes it’s a couple hours, sometimes it’s a day. it’s never stretched longer, until now. it’s been three torturous days of waiting for a grand gesture, an apology, anything.

the next day at school, you’re walking through the parking lot during your lunch break, talking to cherry valance and marcia about what happened between you and dallas. they say a lot of “told you so” and “that’s dallas for you”, and you can’t say they’re wrong. they warned you about him, and his reputation for being so short-tempered and stubborn.

the sound of an engine roars behind you, and you and your friends turn your heads to see who is making the noise. it’s a 1957 red thunderbird, you recognize it as buck merrill’s.

“that must be dal’s friend, buck,” you whisper to your friends. “but why would buck be here?”

“he’s a greaser, he’s probably like, 5 grades behind and coming here begging for another shot at graduation,” randy, marcia’s boyfriend, teases. you shoot him a glare, and he shuts up.

“i’ll go see whats up,” you say softly, walking over to the now-parked car.

as you walk over and the window rolls down. it is not buck merrill, like you expected, but it’s dallas winston.

“hi,” you say softly, your walls starting to go up but hesitating, wondering if you’re even still fighting.

“hey, sweetie,” he says, not explaining what he’s doing here.

“what’re doing?” you ask him.

he shrugs. “wanted to see you, i dunno.”

“oh,” you say softly. you hoped for an apology, you hoped for flowers, you hoped for chocolate, you hoped for a hug, you hoped for—

“i shouldn’t of gotten all heated when we talked, it wasn’t cool,” he says, interrupting your thoughts. “and you ain’t a bitch.”

“..thanks.” you say after a few seconds of silence. what a shit apology, you think.

he’s staring out into the parking lot instead of you. “and i’m crazy about you, man,” he looks up at you. “you gotta know that, sugar.”

“thank you,” you repeat again, unsure of what to say.

another beat of silence as he swallows in his throat, before speaking and finally looking over at you. “i love ya, doll,”

you should’ve stayed mad, you should’ve not accepted his awful apology, but you cannot hide the smile tugging at your lips. this is all you’ve asked for from him, and he finally has the courage to admit it.

“i love you too, dallas.” you say softly, leaning into the window and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “thank you,”

“you gotta stop sayin’ that, y/n,” he teases, playfully pushing you away. “go hang out with your stupid friends, man. i’ll come over tonight and hang.”

you nod, and walk away, looking back at him and seeing a small smile on his face. nothing could ruin this moment.

[sucker4colby]

Colby Brock your caring boyfriend

Who will instinctively reach to grasp your fingers when anything remotely scary happens while ghost haunting, just to make sure you’re still there and because it calms his nerves.

Who constantly has an eye on you even though you can hold your own and you have equal amount of experience in the paranormal world.

Who will pull you behind him an arm wrapped around your back to keep you close when you guys get jump scared since he promised himself to keep you safe.

Who will playfully cling to you pretending to be scared to ease the atmosphere knowing you’ll always let out giggles at your gentle giant.

Who will hold your hand and assist you when you need to do a but of physical activity when exploring.

Who will refuse to let you out of his arms if a spirit targets you during an investigation hiding your face in his chest where you can hear his racing heartbeat.

Who makes sure you rest up and gives you after-care during the paranormal hangover you get after investigations.

Who makes sure your mental health is ok because the paranormal world is draining, so he stays by your side where you guys do loads do self care and self loving.

———————

Something short and sweet for my lovely readers <3

I hope you guys enjoy this short story.

[supershot73199]

Ok so this is not connected to my Big Daddy au

But here is another short fic/prompt so feel free to continue this or do your own spin.

This will be DannyxSteph as I don't see much for them (I believe their ship name is meme lords)

Steph winced in pain as she shifted in the chair she had been tied too. She was desperate as she was trying to find a way to distract the Joker or escape with a broken leg and no gear. She wouldn't have been panicked as bad as she was if she had been the only one grabbed but they grabbed the kid she had been babysitting as well, a sweet little girl only four years old named Dawn who was currently crying in her lap where she was chained while the Joker was monologing at the camera.

Supposedly it was broadcasting live on every TV in Gotham. Steph really hoped that there was someone near Dawn's father to help him through this. Danny ,which is her father's name, was a single father Stephs age (which means that he would have had to been a teenage father with Dawn's age) and his little girl was his whole life which means this could not be easy on him.

Suddenly as Joker was mid sentence everyone froze because they could hear gunshots from outside as well as a loud diesel engine before suddenly a wall collapsed as a garbage truck slammed through the wall before screeching to a halt.

Steph at first thought that it was the rest of the bat's maybe borrowing the truck to get in faster and it seemed like Joker had the same thought.

"Well now I never expected this of you Bat's couldn't use the skyli- you aren't one of the bat's."

And he was right because stepping out of the truck-turned-battering-ram was Danny and he didn't even spare a second thought to the Joker as he set his eyes on Dawn and Steph and called out in a relieved tone of voice. "Dawn! Steph! You're ok thank the Ancients."

"Daddy!" Dawn had stopped crying at the sound of her father's voice the tension in her body fading away with that childlike certainty that her father would make everything better. However Joker not one to be ignored reached out and grabbed Danny's arm before speaking.

"Now the shows not over there Daddy but thank you for adding a new hos-"

"Fuck off bozo!" Danny didn't even slow using the same hand Joker grabbed he shoved him off sending the clown stumbling back a few steps as Danny finished crossing the room before quickly cutting the ropes with a pocket knife (and Steph was not blushing at the strength he had to have to cut the sturdy rope in one smooth movement no siree) with Dawn quickly leaping into her Dads arms as soon as the ropes fell away.

Steph turned to the Joker who seemed stunned hand on his chest where he was shoved seemingly shocked that someone had done that with no fear. Turning back to the father daughter pair she started quickly speaking in a low voice hopping not to break the trance the clown prince of crime was under.

"Quick you need to take Dawn and run my legs broken so you need to leave me here the Bat's will be here soon ill be fin-"

"He can't hurt you anymore." Danny's voice was calm and steady as he interrupted Steph. He looked her in the eye before looking pointedly at the had that he shoved the Joker with opening it to reveal something that made Steph gasp.

A human heart still beating though it stopped as she looked and the moment it did she heard a thud as the Joker fell to the floor limp as a puppet with its strings cut.

"Is that .." Steph couldn't even finish the question. But Danny still nodded before tossing it unceremoniously to the floor.

"Nobody threatens the people I care about and gets away with it. He forfeit his existence the moment he grabbed the two of you."

Steph felt like her own heart was about to fall out onto the floor the combination of the Joker a bogeyman who had terrorized Gotham almost as long as she had been alive just dead, dying without so much as a whimper much less a bang. Done in, not by any bat or caped crusader but a father who only wanted to save his daughter. As well as the implication that Danny cared for her too that he killed the nightmare of every kid in Gotham for her sake as much as his daughters.

Danny had separated from Dawn after placing one more kiss on her head and whispered comfort that Steph was to shocked to pay much attention to before quickly coming to check on her injury.

"Looks like a clean break so it should heal fast. I just hate that you got hurt protecting Dawn even if I'm more grateful than you can imagine that you tried to protect her."

Steph smiled "We've known each other for months now and I love that little girl as well. No way was I going to let someone touch her without a fight."

Danny looked up at her from his position next to her chair with a look that Steph couldn't describe before standing up.

"Here I'll carry you to one of the ambulances I hear coming this way."

As he bent to scoop her up Steph got his attention as she got ready to do something impulsive. As he turned his head toward her Steph grabbed his head and pulled him into a kiss. Danny froze against her before returning it the pair only stopped when they heard a giggle.

"Daddy and Stephie are kissing! Does that mean Stephie is my Momma now?" Dawn's voice snapped the two out of it but before Danny could say anything Steph beat him to it.

"Maybe one day Daddy has to take me on a date first and we'll see where things go. Say a movie this Friday?"

Steph knew she was being bold but by God she was not letting this absolute dork start to spiral she knew from the amount of time they spent together as neighbors that Danny had a surprising low self esteem and would probably convince himself she only kissed him out of gratitude or something when in reality she has wanted to do this for months and just didn't know how to initiate.

"That sounds wonderful I'm sure miss Chen downstairs would be able to watch Dawn if I ask." Danny's blushing face only made Steph giggle as he responded. But as he lifted her she noticed the Jokers camera with the recording light still on and she knew she was going to get so much shit from the other bat's so she decided to share the embarrassment.

"Not so sure you'll have to ask seeing as everyone in Gotham just saw everything on their screens.

Danny who had just picked Steph up in a princess carry without hurting her leg froze before letting out a groan.

"Oh I'm never going to live this down."

[jobean12-blog]

All In

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 1,103

Summary: Bucky makes your first time an experience you don't want to forget.

Author's Note: This is written for my sweet friend @blackwidownat2814 <3 I hope you like it! Thank you for sharing with me and requesting it! Love and hugs! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 😘

Warnings: Softness and sweetness, fluff, insecurities but lots of love in between it all, smut, fingering, oral, unprotected p in v, first time

You’re so aware of everything that’s him. His size, the warmth he radiates, his distinct and comforting scent. It’s all overwhelming in the best way and when warm and soft lips press to the skin of your neck you dig your teeth into your bottom lip to stop your whimper.

“Mm,” he hums appreciatively as he works his way down to your collarbone. “You’re so soft doll.”

Your fingers delve into his hair when he teases along the lace of your bra and then he moves higher, capturing your lips.

He pulls away and his brow furrows when he sees your bottom lip trembling and your eyes shining.

“What it is doll? Are you ok, talk to me.”

He gathers you close and wraps you in his arms.

“I’m ok, it’s just…I want this, and I want you to know how badly but…”

He smiles softly and presses his fingers under your chin, bringing your lips close so he can kiss you.

“You can be as loud as you want here. It’s just us doll. I’m the only one who gets to hear those beautiful sounds falling from your beautiful lips.”

When he releases you, he slowly gathers your arms over your head and holds them there, watching you intently as his lips trail along the curve of your shoulder and your skin erupts in goosebumps.

“You like that?” he murmurs before kissing the swell of your breast.

You nod and arch your back.

“Use your words doll face. If I do something you like, I want to know and if I do something you don’t like you have to tell me.”

He does it again, reassuring you with more words. “Remember, just us.”

“Ok,” you breathe out.

He chuckles softly and teases your lips, grinning when he pulls away and you chase them for more.

“Words,” he coos.

“Kiss me again Bucky.”

And he does-until you’re a melted mess beneath him and unable to form a sentence.

You gently tug on his shirt, wanting it off so you can feel his skin. He lifts his upper body and helps you slip it off, revealing smooth and defined muscle.

At your soft sigh he cradles your cheek and brushes his thumb across your lips.

“What’s that sound for gorgeous?”

Your simple shrug isn’t enough, and he tightens his hold on you. “Tell me.”

“You’re so beautiful Bucky.”

The pad of his thumb gently massages your bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth.

“Every time I get to see even an inch of your beautiful skin bare for me, I have to count down the seconds until I can again.”

Your fingers trace his shoulder, hovering at the spot where skin meets metal.

“I understand,” he whispers.

Your eyes meet his.

“About being self-conscious.”

“Oh Bucky,” you whisper, cupping his jaw.

“It was so much worse before…at least now it’s cleaned up…still not pretty but better.”

“I think every part of you is pretty,” you whisper.

“I know you do doll face. And that’s why I need you to believe me when I tell you that you’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”

You quietly nod and let your fingertips smooth down the length of metal plates until they find his fingers, your own closing tightly around his.

“What did I say before about…”

You cut him off with a soft response. “I believe you Bucky.”

His answering kiss is soft and filled with all the words lingering in the small space between you and it’s enough to steal your breath.

“What do you want me to do?” he asks, blue eyes darkened with desire.

“Taste me,” you whisper.

He licks his lips and starts to peel off you shorts, letting out a groan when he reveals your matching lace panties.

“Oh, fuck doll. Wow.”

“I was hoping you’d like them,” you answer, your eyes alight with growing confidence.

“I don’t like them. I love them. And I love that you thought of me while picking them out.”

He continues to stare, quiet now, as his eyes roam over every inch of you.

“What are you doing?” you ask as your lips start to lift.

“Imprinting this on my brain forever,” he murmurs. “You’re so gorgeous.”

With gentle hands he lifts your leg and caresses your calf before pressing his lips to your inner thigh.

He moves his hands up to your hips and hooks his thumb under the dark lace, slowly dragging it down your legs until he can drop it to the bed.

“You’re staring again,” you giggle.

He barely registers your words as he spreads you open and settles between your legs. Your fingers find purchase in his hair, and you pull tightly when his tongue makes the first slide between your folds.

You moan out his name and rock your hips, effectively pulling him closer and making him hum appreciatively.

It only fuels you on and your hips start to move in rhythm with his tongue. He teases and licks until your thighs are shaking against his head. His fingers ghost up your thigh before he pushes one inside you, pumping it in and out.

“Do you need more doll?”

You let out a muffled sigh and he slows his movements.

“Doll,” he warns, coaxing you with a determined look from between your legs.

“Yes, Bucky. More. Please.”

He dives back in, carefully stretching you before pushing another finger inside.

“You ok gorgeous?” he asks.

You’re so close to falling apart you can’t do more than nod but remembering his words you breathe out, “so close Bucky. It feels so good.”

He gives you just what you need, and you cry out his name.

“I love hearing you scream my name doll. Knowing I’m makin’ you feel so good. It drives me fucking crazy.”  

Your eyes are half lidded as you clumsily push on the waistband of his shorts.

“You want these off?” he asks with a chuckle.

“Off,” you answer, watching as he sits up to remove them.

When his cock springs free against his abs you reach for him, but he gently holds your hand back and dips his head to capture your lips.

“Tonight is all about you,” he whispers against them.

You pout but he simply kisses it from your lips and settles his weight on top of you. Your fingernails lightly run along the hard planes of his back then reach for his ass.

With a squeeze you urge him closer.

“Doll,” he whispers when he presses in, and you coat the length of him with your arousal. “Fuck.”

His hands are worshipful as they wander over your skin and his lips are soft when they kiss every spot he can find.

Every sensation makes you whimper and tremble in his arms until finally you speak up.

“Bucky,” you gasp. “I need you. Now. Please.”

With words of praise, he slowly pushes inside you, careful as he watches your face for any signs of pain. His eyes squeeze shut once he’s fully seated, and his face falls to your neck.

Your walls tighten and your hips roll.

“Oh god,” he hisses. “I swear you’re so perfect I’m gonna finish before we’ve even started.”

Your soft giggles have his eyes meeting yours and his expression softens, filling with reverence.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers.

@hiddles-rose @kmc1989 @lizette50 @goldylions

[poppy-metal]

baby daddy older art…. after his divorce he went on a wild night out, and slept with thing young hot thing he picked up at a bar. it was supposed to be a one night stand, but you get PREGNANT, and now sexy man has to be in your life FOREVER. begs you to keep it even though you’re young and have your life ahead of you, and if you do he will make sure you live in luxury for the rest of your life. you were going to keep it anyway, but his promise makes it so much easier. hes coming to every doctors appointment, he makes you put his number on speed dial, he brings you anything you ask, because you’re carrying his child. decided it’s easier if he lives with you, because he’s seen your apartment and he doesn’t want you or his kid living in such a place, and then he can be available at all hours of the day. he’s so good to you, so kind and sweet and good and he doesn’t have to do this at all, you can help but fall in love with him. but he doesn’t feel the same. it’s a strictly mother of his child relationship. he is very blatant about that. no blurring of boundaries, you are the mother of his child and that’s all. it’s purely practical why he lives with you, because if you’re both ok with it it’s best for the baby to have both parents. that’s all you think it is. you keep your love inside, because he’s such a good man, and to even be around him is a gift. he’s given you more than you could ever hope for, it would be selfish to demand feelings too. that’s what makes him so wonderful, he’s doing this all for a girl he doesn’t even love. and his child, yes, but richer men have done less for their children and the mothers of their children. little do you know, he has to prevent himself from touching you constantly, because you’re a young girl he’s gotten in trouble and he would be the worst man in the world if he also made you think you had to put out to stay with him. no, he had done enough. all he could do now was to provide for you and your child. until………

save me responsible art who accidentally knocked me up save me,,,,,, okay but imagine you're a few months into the pregnancy - you have a prominent bump now and parts of you are getting more and more tender and achey. your breasts for one, have gotten alot more sensitive. 

you're in a mood over it - not snappy but just noticeably uncomfortable. when art comes over to stock your fridge like he's been doing, you're in nothing but an oversized shirt and some tiny sleep shorts. art already has his heart beating fast, pumping in his chest. he tries to stay respectful, notices how you're nit wearing a bra and feels his cock twitch. he thinks to ask you about what's got you looking so blue as a way to distract him from your body but it ends up doing the opposite.

“my chest.” you tell him, frowning. his eyes are drawn down despite himself. “pregnancy body I guess, they're just really tender and like… stiff.” 

your nipples are certainly stiff, art thinks. swallows. concern nips at him. he knows it's unavoidable, but he doesn't want you in pain. 

“are they hurting you?” 

you nod, reaching up to cup them yourself and art tries not to choke on air. you wince. 

“its like a sore muscle or something. squeezing them feels good but I feel like I don't have a good enough grip.” you flush when you realize you're essentially fondling yourself in front of him and drop your hands. “sorry. it's not your problem. I'll live!” 

you usually love having him around for as long as he'll stay, but you're in such pain you just wanna take an advil and take a nap. he doesn't deserve to hear your bitching. 

art feels bad. this is half his responsibility and he has to deal with 0 of the aches and pains. hed siphon it from you if he could. he works his bottom lip between his teeth, face already turning pink before he even says the words. 

“I could help.” 

you blink at him, confused at first. “help?”

arts ears are red now. his fingers flex at his sides. he imagines them on your tits and has to inhale. 

“I mean - my hands might. they might feel better. if you want, obviously. I just hate to see you in pain.” 

so that's how you end up with your back to his broad chest. leaned back as his hands hover at your waist over the shirt. you're all flushed, both of you, but you reckon his hands really will help. they're so sturdy looking. and you remember how they felt on your bare skin. those slender fingers, those palms. with that in mind you place your hands over his and slip them under your shirt - “direct contact will probably help more.” you explain, half because it'd true and also because it's an opportunity to feel his hands again - and you won't waste it. 

arts whole body is burning. hot. he says, “right.” because his brain is rather fucking blank the second his hands make contact with your skin. you're so warm and soft. just like that night. except his baby is inside you now.

he cant help it. he has to feel over your bump. skims his palm over the taut muscle of your belly where it extends out. he's kind of awestruck. 

“have they kicked?” he thinks he'll pass out if he feels it. 

you shake your head. “I'd tell you if they did. I know you'd want to feel.”

his heart warms. he caresses your belly. “I would.” he confirms gently. “I want to be there for everything.” 

you bite your lip. sigh when his hands start trailing up your body. you dont know if he's purposely being sensual about it, or if he's just being respectful about the way he handles your body. it feels so good. it feels natural. his palms cup the side of your tits first, and you gasp. 

“sorry.” he says - starting to pull away and you quickly shake your head.

“no.” you tell him. “no it feels good - dont worry about being too gentle. it's alot of pressure …. “ 

he breathes out and touches you again. grips you'd breasts in his hand and tries not to lose his mind. he's doing this to help you. you're in pain. this isn't about him.

but god, you're so fucking soft. he can feel your flesh squeeze between his fingers. feel the stiff peaks of your nipples. he massages your tits like that for a second, just cupping and pressing against your tits with slight pressure, steadily building the more you sigh in approval. 

he's so big behind you. big chest at your back big hands groping and gripping your fat and heavy tits. 

“that feels so good.” you tell him, and if you have a whine in your voice well it's his fault for having such good hands. 

“im glad.” he chokes out. fuck. he's throbbing in his jeans. hard and thick and he's remembering how your tits felt pressed against his bare chest when he'd been inside you- deep in your tight wet little cunt - you'd been so vocal under him, sweet and cloying and he vividly remembers how the nipples he's currently pinching, felt in his mouth, under his tongue. remembers them bouncing in his face when he'd had you a second time, on his lap, riding his cock so fucking eagerly. 

his brain is all fuzzy with the memories of that night. the message becomes less about relieving you of any pain and just about feeling your body in his hands. you can feel his pecs move against your back as he breathes in and out - his touches becoming less hesitant and more demanding - he squeezes getting more aggressive and dominant. sexual. 

your cunt throbs, your little clit having a heartbeat. you've become so fucking - horny lately. you have to touch yourself everyday - your hormones all over the fucking place. being touched like this isn't helping. you feel soaked and wet between your thighs. downright sticky with it.

you want to reach down and rub yourself. the pounding of your pussy has become even more painful than the throb in your breasts earlier. 

“im so horny.” you say - the confession ripped from your chest. said kinda desperately, hopelessly. arts hands pause on your tits and you lean back against him, pushing it, testing. “it hurts so bad, art. all these pregnancy hormones - no matter how much I touch myself it's never enough. I need to be filled.” 

“jesus.” he leans his forehead against your shoulder. he tries to find that thin thread of control, but he can't. it's gone. probably broke the second he felt you in his hands again. “you can't say things like that….” 

“but it hurts.” you whine. shift around. “hurts right now.” 

you sound near tears and fuck, he fucking hurts too. he's been holding himself back for so long, ignoring his needs - resiting you. he can't even remember why. 

“c’mere.” he tells you, and then he's turning you around in his lap, nd you're straddling his lap, feeling the hard length of him through your clothes and he kisses the gasp right out of your mouth. you moan into each other. his hands grip your ass, rock your tender little pussy against his cock and the friction makes your eyes roll back. 

“please.” you gasp against his mouth, your belly just big enough to put and inch of space between you. your hand tugs at his jeans - “please make it better - I need your cock -”

“the baby -” he pants but doesn't stop you from yanking his jeans down, lifting his ass to help you, even. 

you shake your head, “that's not a thing.” you giggle - “and it helps with - with all the pain I'm feeling - promise -” 

all he has to do is slip your sleep shorts to the side like panties - because you're not wearing any - and sink you down onto his cock - his head falls back when he feels that melting pot of a pussy around him. sucking, tender, soft, tight - squeezing him so fucking good. 

he grips your ass even harder - “your pussy is so good, baby - “ he plants his feet, braces to bounce you on his dick- “im gonna make you fucking cum.” 

[letstalkaboutshtufff]

Never a Burden Part 2

Neteyam x reader

Pairing: Neteyam x Reader Mate

Warnings: Mentions of injury, mild blood, kinda 18+ at the end.

Previous chapter

****************************************************

You waited for what felt like hours for your mate to return.

As soon as he walked through the entrance you shot up on your feet.

He released a sigh when he saw you and raised his arms out to you.

You immediately ran into his embrace hugging him tightly.

Seconds later you were pulling away to look him up and down. Your breath caught seeing his bleeding knuckles.

“Teyam…”

“It is nothing love, don’t be sad” he pulled you close again releasing a deep sigh.

“I’m sorry Neteyam…” you murmured into his chest.

“Shh don’t apologize.” He kissed your head and pulled you to sit down on his lap by the fire.

“Lemme get some salve for your hand-“ you attempted to stand but he pulled you back down with a click of his tongue.

“Leave it, it’s nothing..”

“…Neteyam… what did you do?” Fear was evident in your voice.

“I showed him what happens when someone messes with my family…” his tone was bitter.

Panic was clear as day on your face but Neteyam was quick to dispel your worries, “Don’t worry he’s not dead, as much as I wanted to kill him, I did not.”

“But he won’t be able to join us on raids anytime soon…” he muttered.

“W-wha, what did you do??”

Made his face look like a bowl of purple berries, Broke his arm for touching you, gave him a much worse bruise on his stomach, shoved him in the river and held his head down a little too long…

“Just roughed him a bit don’t worry..”

“But you just said he wouldn’t be able to-“

He shut you up with an abrupt kiss. It was slow and sweet, that is until he bit you.

“Ow what was that for.” You pouted and pulled back.

“For not telling me the moment someone was bothering you.”

“But Teyam-“

“No buts”. His eyes were stern.

“Since when do we hide things from each other hm?” You looked down feeling shame.

“I…I didn’t want to but I didn’t want to burden you with this Neteyam…” he sighed loudly.

“It’s never a burden, you’re never a burden…” he made sure you were looking in his eyes.

They held nothing but the truth. You weren’t a burden.

“Promise you’ll never hide something like this from me again.”

You nodded, “I promise”.

He kissed you again, “good”.

“How is your wound?” He readjusted you to look at your stomach.

“It’s alright, it looks worse than it is..”

You could read the emotions on his face, bearing himself up that he couldn’t protect you.

“Don’t Neteyam, don’t- I’m alright. I promise. It’s nobody’s fault except them.. and thanks to you I don’t think they’ll be bothering me anytime soon…” you kissed his bruised knuckles.

He smiled warmly but then suddenly furrowed his brows, “Wait they? What do you mean “they””.

You blinked up innocently, “didn’t I mention his friends…?”

Neteyam scoffed in exasperation, “No you did not mention his friends!”

“Ok ok calm down, they didn’t do anything just called me some names, Tu’Mey was the only one who hurt me-Ow Neteyam!” You pouted bringing a hand to your freshly flicked forehead.

“What did you just promise woman!”

“I-It it doesn’t count, I forgot about them, I wasn’t hiding it!”

“You-” you interrupted him this time with a kiss.

He let out the millionth sigh of the night.

“What am I going to do with you hm?” He said fondly.

“You’re the one who chose me Neteyam” you grinned.

“Yeah I did…”

“Do you regret it…?”

“Never” he smirked pulling you in for a much deeper kiss than before.

“I think I know how to keep you out of trouble…”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” You shivered when he nibbled on your ear.

“I’ll wear you out until you can’t move, you can’t cause trouble if you can’t walk..”

Eywa help you..

**************************************************

Short but sweet conclusion! Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading🥰

[81folklore]

heaven - PIASTRI - part 3

pairings: oscar piastri x private!reader (fc: gracie abrams)

summary: oscars girlfriend attends her first grand prix and the public get to see just how proud she is of oscar

authors note: ive honestly missed writing for oscar and priv!reader so we are back in honor of oscars FIRST EVER WIN AND INCREDIBLE SPRINT RACE!! im genuinely so proud of oscar and im honestly in shock. i also follow ZERO wag pages so i have no clue what they are like, if people actually follow them etc.

authors note 2: short-ish and sweet for OSCARS FIRST WIN?? i started writing this about 30 minutes before the sprint race so i had no clue where this was going to go but HE WON!!

part 1 part 2 masterlist

f1wagupdates

liked by user5, user81, user9 and 7,289 others

yn entering the paddock for the first time today! she followed shortly after oscar, spoke to some oscar/mclaren fans and handed a few who were unable to meet oscar, on his way in, some signed things she had. we absolutely love her already!!

view comments

user81: omg she’s literally the sweetest thing😭

user17: I LOVE HER ALREADY

user61: the fact that oscar fans already love her🫶🫶

user9: oh she looks so cute!!

user72: i was one of the girls she gave something too! she said she had been following behind oscar and kept an eye on anyone who he missed to give them something after he left. she was very very shy, but she made sure to speak to everyone who oscar missed and was asking us questions about us, overall she was very sweet!!

user22: this makes me love her even more😭and congrats on the signed stuff!! do you mind me asking what it was?

user72: thank you! and of course, we all got something different! i got a signed polaroid of oscar (im still in disbelief?! and it must have been one she took herself bcs i couldnt find the photo online anywhere), someone a bit down from me got what looked like a drivers card and i saw someone else get a picture of his car!

user22: A POLAROID?? oh you won😭😭

user1: i wonder if we will see her again

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 9,619 others

first qualifying in the paddock was a rollercoaster of emotions, not the result we were hoping for, expected or wanted but its ok because oscars gonna smash it tomorrow and we’ll pretend today didnt happen!!

view comments

oscarpiastri: glad you had fun🤍

oscarpiastri: my goodluck charm wasnt goodlucking today

yourusername: dont say thattt☹️ill try and be extra lucky tomorrow promise!!

oscarpiastri: i love you

yourusername: i love you more🤭

user3: the photo difference😭

user14: loved seeing you in the garage today

yourfriend3: i love you but those photos😭😭

yourusername: stoooop i was so nervous all day😭

yourfriend7: wish oscar luck from all of us back home!

oscarpiastri: 👍👍

user81: u are so cute☹️

user2: so unfair how they told oscar during the interview!!

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 9,182 others

changed outfits but we are ready for the sprint!!

tagged oscarpiastri

comments on this post have been limited

oscarpiastri: love you lots and lots, thank you for coming🧡

yourusername: I LOVE YOU!! and you dont have to thank me, ill always stay with you🤍🤍

f1

liked by yourusername, mitchevans_ and 817,175 others

PIASTRI STORMS TO SPRINT POLE IN QATAR!🤩🔥

He just keeps getting better and better!

view comments

mclaren: YESSSSSS!!!👏👏👏

user6: P1ASTRI

yourusername: INCREDIBLE🤩🤩

user18: more than deserved!

user73: absolute legend

yourusername added to their story

seen by oscarpiastri and 6,289 others

user6: AHHHHHH

user81: LOOK AT HIM GO

oscarpiastri: ☺️☺️

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 10,278 others

oh how i obsessively adore you.. today you took your first f1 pole position, hours later you became a formula one race winner (idc if it was a sprint you still won!!)

i have been on this incredible journey with you long before your first f2 race. i was by your side at your first f2 win and im still by your side now youve won in f1

i know how much this win means to you, i know how much you wanted to prove yourself to everyone and you have. you never fail to amaze me, especially coming back after the shit show that was yesterday

you are truly incredible and you are so so special🐨

i love you so much, congratulations🧡

tagged oscarpiastri

view comments

user61: WHAT IF I STARTED SOBBING

user11: THE KOALA😭😭

user72: so deserved🧡incredible drive!!

user68: the f2 race winner picture😭😭the f1 race winner picture😭😭THE SMILEY INTERVIEW PICTURE😭😭

oscarpiastri: my favorite goodluck charm🧡

oscarpiastri: thank you so much for sticking with me through it all

oscarpiastri: i appreciate you so much my love

yourusername: you are so special, lovely🩵

landonorris: usually i hate your sappy posts but ill make an exception this time..congrats mate!!

oscarpiastri: you too mate!

yourusername: knew id get you to love these posts eventually🤭

formula2: we’re so proud of our aussie🥹🐨

oscarpiastri and yourusername added to their stories

seen by yourusername, aussiegrit and 722,519 others

*text on first photo reads: my favourite thing is when i open my phone after a race and i see the photos yn sent me during the race🧡* *text on second photo reads: i love seeing my boy do what he loves*

oscar’s replies:

user52: shes so cute☹️

user12: tell me that was when you won the race and not before

user61: where can i find someone like her😭

yourusername: babyyy i didnt know youd share these😭😭

oscarpiastri: just had to show everyone how grateful i am for you🤍

user49: get yourself someone who supports you the way yn supports oscar!!

yn’s replies:

user17: oh i love you guys so much

yourfriend2: we are all so proud of oscar!!

oscarpiastri: i love you so much more than i can ever express

yourusername: osc☹️☹️ i hold so much love and adoration for you

oscarpiastri: wait when did you take this photo??

yourusername: i watched the final lap in the bathroom so i could sob in peace😭

[artdcnaldson]

ok remember when I said that last ask was the horniest thing I'd ever written? Well scratch that bc this is a new record. (Obligatory disclaimer if you don't like it feel free to delete/ignore it)

Imagine- if you will- tashi bringing you to one of arts games. And you're in a sweet little tennis dress and you sit next to her and watch art, not even paying attention to the game just taking in his form, the shine of sweat, the concentration on his face, the little grunts and moans. And obviously you start shifting around in your seat, because, what are you supposed to be??? Dry???? No! So, it's the last break and tashi takes you to the bathroom and makes you lean over so she can check on the situation, and your white panties are so wet they're basically see through (in an ideal world she would've banned you from wearing any just to torture you but unfortunately they're famous and with the press and everything it's too much of a risk 😞 ) and you're really hoping she'll help you out but she just goes "hmm" and takes you back to your seat. And the breaks not over, arts noticed that yall were gone and he's making eye contact with tashi and she just. Nods at him. And he's already winning but for the rest of the match he's on fire, practically wiping the floor with the other guy.

After it's over and he's won and done all the press and stuff, you ride back to their hotel, with tashi in the middle bc she's the only one who can be trusted to keep control of herself. You and art are practically vibrating, with desire and exhilaration respectively. So you get back to the hotel room and tashi tells art to go sit on the couch. Then finally, she gives you a little jerk of her chin and you scramble to put yourself over his knee bc you know that he's always antsy after a win but tashi will want to go over everything while it's as fresh as possible, so you just hang out there and let him play with your sopping cunt and ignore you, just feeling him hard against your stomach but satiated for now since he has something to do while he listens to tashis critiques. When she's done she'll give you further instructions and maybe reward you for good behavior.

(am I gonna become a smut writer this is kinda fun)

I’m so fucking obsessed. I’m on my knees. Anything to keep Artashi happy 😁🫵 just look at them

Rating: E(18+)

Warnings: SMUT (p in v, face sitting, fingering, mild mommy/daddy kink, mild dom/sub dynamics) that’s it that’s the story. Just porn without plot

your brain is just sooo fuzzy and mindless while art’s playing with you. The cute shorts you wore beneath the dress tugged to the side, his fingers stuffed inside of you, your own juices smeared down your thigh, spilling more with each slow thrust of his fingers. It could be a few minutes, or an hour. You just know that you lose yourself in the rise and fall of Tashi’s voice as she runs through her notes, in the warm pressure of Art’s thighs pressing against you.

You must’ve gotten too loud, because Tashi’s kneeling in front of you— holding your chin in her hand, forcing eye contact. “Baby, how’s Art supposed to focus when you’re acting like this, huh? Tomorrow’s match is important, he needs to hear this.”

You whine. Big mistake. Tashi meets Art’s gaze, makes a face you don’t understand. And then Art’s slipping his fingers from your warm, needy cunt. “Clean him up,” Tashi instructs.

You wrap your lips around his fingers, sucking on them, cleaning any evidence of your arousal off. You take them deeper, feeling the brush of his fingers at the back of his throat. You moan softly— Tashi grabs your hair and pulls you off.

“Do you have any critiques for Art?” She asks. You blink slowly. Critiques?? What was there to critique?? “You were at the game. Show Art that you were paying attention.”

You opened and closed your mouth a few times as you looked into Art’s eyes. God, he was so pretty. And then your eyes traveled down, and he was so hard in his shorts that it was tenting the fabric. You just wanted to mouth at him through them, make him feel good. “I— I don’t.”

Tashi sighed, almost disappointed, but not really. Tennis critiques weren’t what you were there for. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty.” She patted your thigh. “Go lay down on the bed.”

You obey so sweetly— hands by your sides, fisted in the duvet so you won’t be tempted to touch yourself. Your thighs rub together as you seek friction, need pulsing between your thighs, adding to the mess of wetness.

It’s five minutes (which you know, because you count) until Tashi and Art join you. Art’s down to the fucking obscene briefs Tashi makes him wear, straining against the fabric obscenely. And Tashi’s wearing fucking agent provocateur, so beautiful that you could die happy just at the sight of her.

“If you paid attention to the match, we would’ve been really sweet to you,” Tashi hums as she takes off your dress. The shorts are soaked so badly that she practically peels them away from your cunt. “But all you could think about was getting fucked, huh?”

You nod as she presses two fingers between your lips, pushing all the way until she hits the back of your throat and you gag around them. She stays like that, thrusting her fingers between your lips, smiling every time your eyes fill with unshed tears and your throat constricts. “It’s been a long day. Just let mommy and daddy use you.”

And you do, because that’s all you can really ask for. Tashi slips off her lingerie, putting on a show without even trying. She straddles your face, knees planted on either side of your head, and sinks onto your waiting mouth.

You moan at the taste of her on your tongue, hands eagerly grabbing at her ass to pull her closer. Usually she would scold you for being greedy, but it was the farthest thing from her mind while she was benefiting from said neediness. You eagerly alternated between lapping at her dripping center and giving her clit the attention it needs.

And then there’s Art. He pulls apart your thighs and pushes into the tight, wet heat waiting for him there. You moan against Tashi’s cunt as he sinks inch after inch after inch inside. He groans at the feeling of your pussy gripping him, pulling him in, in, in. His grip on your hips is so tight it feels bruising.

You lose yourself in the two of them— brain going fuzzy and empty. All you knew, all that mattered in the moment was Tashi, and Art, and how good you felt.

And Tashi’s moaning above you— relishing in your need to please. Even with her husband balls deep inside of you, even with your mind so fuzzy, you keep your attention divided so fairly. You were so fucking nice, she didn’t even have to take the reins— she just got to sit there and let you work her with your tongue.

You were in fucking heaven. Art wasn’t content just using— it feels better when you cum while he’s inside of you. He moves you like a pretty little doll, adjusting you just right. He puts your legs over his shoulders so he gets deeper, kissing your cervix with each deep thrust. His thumb presses against your clit, rubs in slow circles.

Tashi cums first— hips stuttering as she grinds against your face. You relish in it, licking at her center as she comes down, until the lightest brush against her clit makes her twitch with overstimulation. She moves off of you, kissing you with slow, sweet laps of her tongue. You give a shuddery gasp into her mouth.

“Is daddy making you feel good?” Her words are cooed against your ear. You nod wordlessly, only capable of pretty moans or needy whines. She turns her gaze to Art, who’s already close as is, without the attention of his fucking perfect wife.

“Close,” Art groans, meeting her gaze. Her lips turn into an amused smirk as she pushes his thumb off of your clit, and replaces it with her own lithe fingers.

Your back arches as she works you with her fingers, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. Art continues to fuck into you. Each thrust is accompanied by lead, near pornographic sounds— the squelch of your soaked cunt swallowing his cock, the slap of his balls against your ass, the fucked-out moans passing his lips.

Your climax overtakes you suddenly. Your back arches off the bed as you cum. Your pussy clenches around Art’s cock as he continues to fuck into you, and your release leaves an obscene, creamy ring around the base of him. Tashi’s lips are on yours, swallowing down the moans and cries falling from your lips as Art fucks you into overstimulation.

Art buries himself within you as he cums, spilling into you with a few shallow thrusts. You whine when he finally pulls out and some of cum dribbles out, making an even bigger mess of the duvet.

Tashi pets your hair sweetly, kisses your sweat-sticky forehead. Art leaves to grab a towel— you hear him dampening it in the fancy en-suite bathroom. “By the way, I thought you shouldn’t get to cum.”

Art laughs lightly as he returns, cleaning you up between your thighs. “I told her I’d throw the match tomorrow, it always works.” He kisses you deeply, and you moan against his mouth. God, he was a good kisser.

“I can always just stop believing you,” Tashi reminded him. “Maybe I was in a giving mood.” Art snorts, you meet her gaze through narrowed eyes.

She’s right where she belongs. Art’s head is on her shoulder, yours rests on her chest. You’re all just a tangle of sweaty limbs.

TASHI DUNCAN I WONT U SO BAD 😚🫵

Sorry to Art he truly is a racket and a dick in this fic

[sophsbookstore]

Exchanged Glances

Charles Leclerc x hairdresser!reader ｡･:*˚:✧｡ 

Masterlist can be found in navigation!

Read pt. 2 here

A/N: Not super edited, I wanted to get it posted before the Grand Prix!

Word count: 1,581

Normally when Charles goes back home to Monaco he has his mom cut his hair. Like clockwork he will arrive at his moms salon, say hello to the various hairdressers and then go to his moms station to get a fresh cut. Only, this time things were different. 

A couple days before he was to arrive home Charles called his mom and asked what day she was free to cut his hair, with the upcoming Monaco Grand Prix it, and with it being his home race he was more available for a haircut than ever.

After their brief greetings to one another Charles’ mom told him that she would be out of town up until the day of the race. For the first time since joining formula one his mom wouldn't be able to cut his hair for him before the Monaco Grand prix.

“Don't worry Cha, I can refer you to another hairdresser at the salon.” She offered, trying to give him another solution.

“I don't know, you've always cut my hair, no one else.” 

“Then this will be a perfect time for you to step out of your comfort zone. Don't worry I know the perfect person, she’s new, around your age and she's magic in the salon.” Trusting his mom this easies Charles' nerves slightly.

“Ok maman.” The driver sighs in defeat.

“Wonderful! When you go to the salon ask for Y/N.'' With that his mom bid him farewell, telling him when to be at the salon, not going into any more detail about this mysterious hairdresser.

Before he knew it the day had come, he was going to step out of his comfort zone and have a complete stranger touch his hair. He hoped his mom wasn't lying when she was hyping up Y/N and her skills, he didn't want to go to the paddock looking a mess.

Charles enters the salon, all the employees giving him waves and greeting him. He's known some of these people his whole life, whenever he stepped foot in the salon it was like he was being greeted by family.

“Hello Charles, what can I help you with today?” The lady at the front desk asked.

"Hello, yes, my mom told me to ask for Y/N?” The boy shrugged in confusion.

“Oh of course! I'll go get her.” The lady that once sat in front of him was now off searching for the mysterious magic woman that was going to cut his hair.

Charles felt like he was waiting for hours, the salon wasn't that big was it? Maybe it was all in his head. He stood to the side of the waiting area, too consumed with stress to sit down and relax. Before he knew it the front desk lady came back, the woman he assumed to be Y/N trailing behind her.

This is when he finally got to have a good look at her. She was beautiful, why didn't his mom tell him that they started hiring part time models at the salon. The two stood awkwardly, both taking in one another, waiting for someone to make the first move.

Y/N cleared her throat. “Hello Charles, I’m Y/N. just follow me back to my station and we’ll get started”

Charles was too dumbfounded to respond, instead the man stuttered silently before nodding and following Y/N to the back of her salon. During the short walk to her station, Charles thought of questions to ask the beautiful girl, desperately wanting to hear the sound of her voice again.

“Thanks for trusting me with your hair today, your mom told me that you don't really let anyone else cut your hair.” She giggled.

“Oh! Yeah, she's been cutting mine and my brothers hair since we were kids.”

“That's so sweet. I understand where you're coming from I don't let anyone cut my hair, only myself.'' This put Charles at ease. Knowing that she thinks the same way he does, even about something so simple as hair.

After some comfortable small talk Y/N led Charles further back into the salon, sitting the boy down in a chair before leaning him back and washing his hair. The driver seemed to melt in her touch as she ran her fingers through his hair.

When Y/N pulled her hands away to apply more product Charles felt incomplete, like he was missing a sense of stability and peace within himself. Just as soon as she removed her hands she placed them back, continuing to massage his scalp with the shampoo.

Y/N pats Charles’ shoulders signaling to him that the wash was done and that they had to make their way back to her station. Y/N led the way, Charles trailing behind the girl before taking his spot in front of her in the salon chair.

“Are you excited for the grand prix?” Y/N questions taking some of his hair between her fingers, beginning the cut

“Very. I have a good feeling and my son will be there, hopefully we secure P1 and P2.”

“You have a son? What's his name?” Y/N questions, his mom not mentioning anything about a grandson.

“Oh! My apologies he's not really my son. He's a driver on the grid that I've somewhat adopted for the race weekend so that he can claim the Monaco grand prix as his home race.” Charles looks at Y/N hoping she doesn't find what he said both weird and confusing.

“HA!” The hairdresser laughed out loud. “Well congrats to him, I hope he has a fun and successful home race as well. I'll be sure to congratulate your maman about her newly found grandson.” 

Charles sat up a little higher in the chair, “Are you coming to the race?”

“I wish I could but I have to work, don't worry though, the salon will be playing the race so everyone can watch.” Y/N stopped cutting for a moment, looking at Charles through the mirror placed in front of them before giving him a warm smile.

Y/N picked up another section of his hair, continuing to snip away leaving Charles to examine the girl through the mirror. Y/N looked up from behind him, making a quick glance at him before the pair broke eye contact, looking separate ways.

Slowly their eyes started moving back to the mirror. The scissors snapping shut as the pair hold eye contact. Charles felt the tip of his ears getting hotter, the pair both noticing one another's subtle hints of red creeping onto their faces.

“Notice anything Mr. Leclerc?” Y/N questions, the corners of her mouth turning upward.

Charles opens his mouth to speak but words don't come out.

“Don't think I haven't noticed the subtle glances, there is either something on my face and you're trying to figure out how to tell me, or something going on in this head of yours.” She turns her attention back to his hair, the haircut almost over.

“I-” he clears his throat, “I was admiring you. You're very good at what you do.”

“I deeply appreciate Charles, truly.” Y/N made her final touches to the haircut. Unbuttoning the cloth that was draped over Charles, before dusting off his shoulders of any hair. “You're all finished, let me find a mirror so you can see the back.”

Y/N walked toward an unknown part of the salon, Charles' eyes following the girl through the mirror until she came back. This is it, if he doesn't say anything now he might never see her again.

The hairdresser came back, handing Charles a small hand held mirror for him to examine the back of his head. He admired her work, impressed with her skills. Placing the mirror down on a ledge near her station he got out of his chair and turned to her.

The two stared at one another, practically chest to chest. “Will you come to the grand prix?” He asked breathlessly.

“Nothing would delight me more but I have to work.” Y/N sighed looking away for a moment before her attention was pulled back to Charles.

“If you can't come to the race can you accompany me for dinner after?” Y/N looked at Charles, her cheeks getting ever so pinker.

“Mr. Leclerc are you asking me on a date?”

“That depends, would you like to go on a date with me?” Charles asked, not missing a beat.

“Yes Charles, I would love to.” 

Charles smiled from ear to ear, desperately wanting to bounce off the walls with excitement, stopping himself before he could embarrass himself. “Then I will see you tomorrow.” He nodded in satisfaction.

“See you tomorrow Charles.” Charles walked away from the hairdresser, giving her a quick glance back before making his way back to the lady at the front desk.

“Hair looks great! What did you think of Y/N?” She asked, ringing him up so he could make his payment.

“She's fantastic, I think maman will have some competition.” The two laughed, Charles paid, giving her a quick goodbye.

As soon as he exited the salon he called his mom, updating her on his post race plans, greatly thanking her for offering Y/N to cut his hair.