#my hands need to be in it. i need to touch.
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rafesangelita · 9 hours ago
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♡ when you’re so wet that rafe keeps slipping out..
warnings: making out, heavy petting, dry humping (not really, it’s pretty messy), finger sucking, cockwarming (?), unprotected sex, praise, teasing, rafe being super pussy drunk, belly bulge, size kink, biting, slight dacryphilia
“fuck, look at those hips..” rafe pulled away from your lips, a string of saliva still connecting you two as he dragged you up and down his lap, his large palms enveloping the soft globes of your ass. with shaky hands, you held onto his shoulders as you rocked on top of him, your panties drenched with your arousal. “need’ you, ray..” you whimpered, “please.” rafe pressed a trail of sloppy kisses across your collarbone, his tongue licking a stripe up the column of your throat as your eyes fluttered shut.
he navigated your body like it was the back of his hand, his skillful touch turning you into putty. rafe could feel your heat through his boxers, the soaked fabric making him groan as his hardened cock strained against the material. “i’ll give it you, baby, don’t worry,” he landed a harsh smack to your ass, ripping a yelp from your lips, “wet those fingers for me.” rafe could only imagine how slippery your cunt would feel swallowing him whole, your slick alone already making you glide easily on top of the layers separating you two from full penetration.
giggling softly, rafe watched as your hand disappeared underneath the waistband of your panties, his breath hitching once you held up your fingers, a pool of your sticky succulence glistening underneath the dim light. knowing that he was the one to make you like this made him twitch with need, his hand wrapping around your wrist as he brought your digits to his mouth. with a baited breath, you gasped softly when he took your juices on his tongue, the man in front of you moaning at the taste.
no matter how many times rafe found his head between your thighs, he could never get used to how intoxicating you were, all of his senses and primal instincts honing in on fucking you stupid. without wasting another second, rafe was quick to take himself out of his boxers, a hiss leaving his lips as his length smacked against your tummy. peeling back the lace material of your underwear, he slid them down your legs until he caught sight of the absolute mess between your thighs.
laying you down on your back, rafe brought your knees up to your chest, using one hand to press on your lower abdomen and the other to guide himself between your folds. he was so hard, he had to use his thumb to keep the tip of his cock down so he could enter your needy cunt. he marveled at the size difference, the head of his length stopping just below your belly button. “fuck, i’m gonna wreck you..” he trailed off, toying with your clit before slipping inside, filling you up inch by inch until you were crying out in both pleasure and pain.
with the hand that he had on your stomach, he guided your own over the budge in your tummy, your eyes widening slightly as he started thrusting into you at a steady pace. “you feel that? ‘feel the way my cock fills you up to the fucking brim?” your eyes rolled back at the same time you whined out a ‘f-fuck, yes!’ into your palm. your walls stretched deliciously around the the welcomed intrusion that was his length, your pussy clenching around him for all that he had. the sounds falling from your lips were nothing short of pornographic, the moans and choked sobs only pushing rafe closer to the edge.
he sped up until his skin was slapping against your own, your back arching off of the bed when he slipped out and stroked your clit with the underside of his cock. you shrieked at the sensation, your legs trembling in sensitivity. “too much..” you shook your head, bringing your legs down to wrap around his waist instead. rafe groaned, your slick dripping down his length as he tapped your glossy folds. “you’re so fucking wet, i’m slipping right out,” he grunted, “this is what i do to you, ‘pretty girl?” he leaned down, nipping the sensitive part of your neck.
he kept himself nestled inside of you for a few moments, letting you revel in being so utterly full. you gave him an approving hum, your nails digging into his skin as he bit you softly across your collarbone. starting up his thrusts again, he slipped out as soon as he picked up the pace, the action making him curse under his breath. your eyes watered in frustration, your bottom lip pulled tightly between your teeth. rafe saw your tears, the sight shooting straight to his cock. he loved seeing how delirious he made you, his chest filling up with pride as you looked up at him with that fucked-out gaze.
soon after he continued, your high was hitting you in intense waves, the coil in the pit of your stomach snapping in two as rafe watched your eyebrows knit together, the added mess between your thighs only making his hips stutter with his own climax painting your walls. “rafe!” you screamed in his ear, his thumb slipping between your lips for you to bite down on while he twitched and convulsed inside of you. a shiver ran down his back as he caged you tightly between his arms, his seed spilling out of you as you both went through the aftershocks of your orgasms.
once you were okay, rafe pressed a kiss to your lips, stroking the side of your face before rolling over to your side. “what’s your ring size?” he sighed, pulling you against his chest. you laughed softly, slightly confused at the words that left his mouth. “why?” rafe’s chest was rising and falling as he glanced down at you, meeting your eyes. “are you kidding me? i need to lock this pussy down. like tonight.”
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luveline · 3 days ago
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Hi Jade! (I’ve sent this before so ignore if you aren’t into it) just thinking about a bau!reader (maybe shy!reader??) who’s dating post-prison Spencer but didn’t know him before prison and she sees some footage of season one Spencer (maybe they need to refer to a recording of a previous case?) and she’s just dying at how cute he is 🥹
You’ve barely woken up with your face in a solid shoulder when Spencer’s turning around.
“Don’t,” he says when you whine, slipping a familiar hand over your hip. “I’m not going anywhere.” 
“Too early to make fun of me.” 
“Do you think I’m making fun of you?” 
His talking warms your nose where his head is angled down. Your skin smarts with goosebumps as he trails his hand lightly up your back, down again, the slowest, tumbling touch. You shiver, and Spencer, ever so slightly devious in love, says, “Oh, you’re cold?” with great pity as he pulls you closer. 
You rub your face against his shoulder. “Sorry.” 
“Why?”
“I smell.” 
He hums. “Sort of. Not like sweat, though. You smell like sleep.” His lips touch your cheek.
He lets you ‘warm up’ in his arms for a few minutes, then however long you doze for, lost and too comfortable to bother even trying to wake up properly. Your phone pings a couple of times after it comes out of sleep mode, a sure sign you’ve overslept, but Spencer doesn’t make you move until your stomach growls. 
“Come on,” he says, kissing your nose and slipping you back onto your side of the bed. “I’ll make breakfast.” 
“It’s nearly twelve.” 
“You just woke up, and it’s the first thing you’re gonna eat. You are breaking your fast. Breakfast.” He looks pretty even through achy, tired eyes, all the sleep crusted in your lashes no match for Spencer Reid. How you went so long without knowing him is a mystery. 
You get up only because he told you to and because he looked quite lovely when he did it, not because you want to. The bed is warm, that pit of his arms calling your name, but Spencer’s already rolling out of bed with an eager hand scratching through his hair. Sweat has made them tight and a little darker in the back. You’ll both have to shower at some point, preferably after he’s made you breakfast in bed. 
He can see your expectations on your face, and he laughs as he pulls a t-shirt on over his head. “Get up! I’m not bringing it up here, do you know how badly your sleep cycle is affected when you start doing the wrong things in bed?” 
“What counts as the wrong thing?” 
Spencer laughs again, softer now, and for a moment he traces your face with his eyes without speaking. “Fine,” he says, waving a hand at you as he makes for the bedroom door, “stay there. But only ‘cos you look so pretty!” 
“Thank you!” you call back. 
This time with Spencer isn’t enough. You need ten more years of this, thirty, fifty, you need to wake up in his arms and have him touch you and tickle your cheek with his breath. He’s too far to have him come back, so you resign to hugging him when he returns. 
Your phone pings again, drawing your attention finally. The first notification is a reminder to buy toothpaste today at the grocery store. The second is a text from a friend, the third an email. It’s one from last night that piques your interest, another friend, full capital letters: HELP. 
Her use of a laughing emoji defers any urgency. You click on the text thread and scroll up, puzzled by her previous messages, a link, and a caption: oh my god he was so dorky??? 
You open the video and feel your breath catch in surprise. 
Is that Spencer?
You're not stupid, you’ve seen photos of him and his friends together dotted around the apartment from over the years, and every time you come across that photo of him and Diana at a spelling bee with his huge black-framed glasses you have to laugh, but it’s different seeing him to hearing him. 
He’s so nervous. You can’t understand what it is he’s saying, something about mathematical components to profiling criminals. Jason Gideon stands in the background watching him closely. 
“There’s actually a good joke that–”
“Spencer,” Gideon reprimands. 
You watch in awe as Spencer stammers an apology, his cheeks a little pink. You’ve seen Spencer blush, but this feels different. He looks so young. His hair is straight as a pin. 
“Spencer, did you used to straighten your hair?” you call, hoping he can hear you over the sound of a frying pan popping in the kitchen. “Or do you have a perm now, or what?” 
“What!” 
“I’m confused on the logistics of your hair!” You feel something weird in your chest as on screen Spencer tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear. It’s a mixture of wanting to eat him and wanting to reach through the screen to stroke his cheek with your thumb. 
Spencer treks back into the bedroom with his pink and white pinstripe apron over his shirt and sweatpants. He smells like cinnamon sugar already. “What are you talking about?” 
“My friend found a video of you and Jason at one of those lectures you did.” 
Spencer presses his lips together. For a moment, he doesn’t speak. “I didn’t do any lectures.”
“Uh, yes you did, liar, and you looked so cute.” You turn your phone to him. “So sweet.” 
He marches to the bed. Before you can stop him, he’s taking the phone from your hand, giving you the world's silliest, tiniest shove when you try to get it back. 
“Cruel,” you quip. 
Spencer stares at the phone screen, then you, “Sorry,” he says, turning pink, “I don’t know why I did that, just– I just–” He frowns deeply. “Can you stop smiling like that?” 
You climb onto your knees, a morning disaster, but when you wrap your arms around Spencer’s waist he looks at you like you’re perfect. His eyes soften, brows relaxing, his irises like dark dimes that slowly dilate as he looks you over. Your phone presses into your back, his arm wrapping around you. 
“You were adorable,” you say sincerely. 
“Not anymore?” 
You rub your cheek against his apron. “No, you still are. Let me watch the video again.” 
“Not a chance.” 
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aureatelys · 2 days ago
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hotch being super touchy with bau!reader during a night out with the team and like cannot wait until they’re home or something ? (idk if this helps!!)
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citrus
pairing: aaron hotchner/fem!bau!reader w.c. 1.5k c.w.: fluff!! suggestive content, established relationship, mentions of alcohol, needy touchy hotch <3
a/n: thank you so much for the request! i realize now while typing this that you may have been asking for horny hotch but instead i give you needy hotch with a touch of horny. not my best work but i hope you like it <33
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You first start to suspect something’s wrong when Hotch sits next to you on the jet.
Not that Hotch sitting next to you was an abnormal occurrence, however ever since you two came clean about your relationship with the rest of the team, both of you made the effort to maintain as professional as possible. Which meant not sharing hotel rooms even though you’re sure the budget manager wouldn’t complain, no favoritism, and no PDA.
The no PDA rule was particularly difficult for you because, how could you not touch him?
The team had just finished up a kidnapping case in Florida. Nearly two weeks of suffocating in the humidity and dealing with swarms of mosquitos every time you stepped outside of the precinct. The relief from being in a familiar setting and the working AC is tangible when you plop down into a window seat facing the front of the cabin.
When you notice Hotch approaching you and taking the seat next to yours, you barely hide the surprise on your face. Hotch just merely raises an eyebrow at you before he jumps into debriefing.
Afterwards, when everyone has either fallen asleep or victim to playing chess with Spencer, Hotch knocks his knee against yours.
You look up from your book, a question forming on the tip of your tongue, when you notice Hotch hunched over his files and eyebrows creased in concentration.
It must have been an accident, you think. Except he does it again.
“You okay?” you ask, placing your bookmark and setting your book aside. It’s not like you were paying attention anyway, having had read the page at least two times by now.
“Fine,” he mutters, not unkindly, before scribbling something at the bottom of a file and moving onto the next one.
The past two weeks had been difficult for everyone, and the week before wasn’t any easier. You assume that Hotch was just itching to go back to your shared apartment to check on Jack before passing out in your bed.
And then he bumps against your knee again.
You don’t say anything this time, instead picking up your book and hitting your knee back against his. You just barely catch the corners of his mouth quirking up.
-
You could’ve sworn Hotch was going to decline tagging along with you when you decided to go out to O’Keefe’s with the rest of the team as soon as you landed. You were even expecting a glare, silently telling you that everyone needs to go home to get some rest and that he is driving you two back to the apartment whether you like it or not.
You start to think Hotch is really up to something now when he shrugs and agrees to tag along with you, promising just one drink.
And then, Hotch rests his arm on the console while driving, his hand worryingly close to your thigh despite Reid and JJ sitting in the backseat. Then, he’s placing a large hand on the small of your back when you’re walking into the bar, causing a shiver to run up your spine despite the warm evening air. Then, he sidles up next to you in the booth, thighs pressing against each other and his wide shoulder brushing against yours. It’s a lot of touching, which you’re clearly fine with, but touching from Hotch, at work, several times in the span of 30 minutes?
“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask, having to lean in to be heard over the music even with his good ear.
Hotch raises his eyebrows at you over his drink. “I told you, I’m fine.”
And it’s like you’re able to see the idea form in his head, having spent so much time with him on and off the clock that you’ve luckily gotten better at reading him.
You still nearly jump out of your seat when Aaron places his warm hand on your thigh, underneath the table where nobody else was able to see.
You’ve gotten used to how touchy Aaron can be behind closed doors. At home, he’s constantly touching you—an arm around your waist, a finger tracing the curve of your jaw, or a kiss pressed at the crown of your head.
But this? A hand on your thigh at a bar in front of your coworkers?
You can feel the heat of his palm seep through your pants, annoyingly close to where you really want him the most. Is that what this is about?
“You two lovebirds alright over there?” Emily calls from the other side of the table, looking spectacularly sober despite you witnessing her downing shot after shot.
The sudden weight of 7 different pairs of eyes on you has you even more frazzled because Aaron’s hand only squeezes the flesh of your thigh while he glances at you casually, his free hand wrapped around an old-fashioned.
“Just talking about how I need another drink,” you say, hoping that your voice doesn’t sound as strained to them as it does to you. And technically it is true as you shake your glass to emphasize the ice cubes clinking around with no fruity drink accompanying it.
When you notice Garcia’s mouth open to volunteer to come with you, you scramble up out of the booth, glad that you chose the outside spot, and weave your way through the crowd to the bar. You try to ignore the way the right side of your body suddenly feels colder without Hotch’s body pressed up against yours.
You’re waiting for your drink when you feel a hand snake around your waist. The only thing keeping you from spinning around to maybe unethically flash your badge is the familiar weight of Hotch’s palm pressed against your hip and the citrusy smell of whiskey on his breath against your ear.
A giggle bubbles out of you, instinctively leaning back against his chest. You’re secretly glad that he left his suit jacket in the car, leaving you to ogle the way the crisp white dress shirt stretches over his shoulders. “Seriously, what is with you today?”
His lips ghost over your ear, the low tone of his voice making your knees weak. “I’m not allowed to touch my girlfriend?”
Girlfriend. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of hearing that.
You lean even harder into him, one of your hands coming down to grab at his toned forearm as you reach for your finished drink. “Of course you can. I just can’t remember the last time you’ve been this touchy in front of everyone, or ever really.”
“I don’t hear any complaints.”
“I might start if you don’t kiss me.” And it’s mostly to just poke fun at him because Hotch hasn’t even held hands with you in front of the team, much less kiss you in a crowded bar with them undoubtedly watching and whispering amongst themselves.
You’re expecting Hotch to huff a laugh against your ear, letting go and stepping away from you. Maybe even him holding your hand while he leads you through the dance floor and back to your booth to humor you.
You don’t expect Hotch’s free hand to come up and cradle your chin, tilting your face towards his almost uncomfortably to press his lips against yours. It’s soft, chaste even, but the fact that he’s kissing you in front of your colleagues and strangers, in a crowded bar with the loud music nearly thrumming through your veins, makes you feel hot all over.
His arm tightens around you, spinning you around until you’re facing him, and he swallows the gasp you unintentionally let out as he deepens the kiss, your mouth instinctively parting. You’ve been dating for months but kissing him still feels like that very first time in his office, the hard edge of his desk digging into your hip and the glow of the sunset highlighting the clear affection in his eyes.
When you pull back, you notice a pink tinge high on his cheeks and the way his tongue peeks out to lick his lips, as if chasing the taste of your fruity cocktail. “What was that for?”
“Just letting you know that I can’t wait to take you home,” he says, pulling you until the entire line of your body is pressed against his. Your hand unconsciously comes to rest on his chest and you’re not sure if you can feel the bass line for the song playing or the thudding of his heart.
His hands start trailing down to your ass and you seriously wonder how touchier he can get.
But, like you realized earlier, it’s been weeks since you’ve had alone time with Hotch. So, you untangle yourself from him despite his protests and slip your hand in his pocket to retrieve the car keys. You grin when it’s Hotch’s turn to jump.
“I’ll meet you at the car?”
“I already said bye to them for us, let’s go.”
And then he’s pulling you towards the exit with his thick fingers wrapped around your wrist. You barely have the chance to peer over the moving crowd to see the rest of your team waving at you, wearing shit-eating grins.
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dilf-docs · 2 days ago
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So Is it Your Place Or Mine?
bfd!joel miller x younger!reader
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summary: summer is over, but your affair with joel isn't (or, you grind on joel's belt buckle while sarah is at soccer practice)
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., exhibition kink (sarah is again a victim of this), brat taming (this two are soo into it), degradation kink, praise kink, lwk breeding kink, daddy kink (wow! it's a whole library of alexandria of kinks in here), fingering, dad bod!joel (best joel you mean), angst (oh guys look oh no it's alr starting), dirty talk!!!!! (they're so dirty ew i want it too wait who said that)
word count: 3,701 words
side note: and it became officially a series. hope u all are into this as much as i am because it's my first series ever !!!!! ALSO angst finally makes it way in this mess LET'S GO (i'mcrying i really looked up big texas belt to come up with a mental image in the middle of class, i'm so sorry to whoever sat behind me but idc abt me writing smut while at uni; we die like real men)
part: prev | masterlist | next
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"What do you mean you're not coming?"
It's been an unspoken rule that, even if you hate sports and the ball stays ten meters away from you, you always come to Sarah's soccer practice, cheering for her from your usual spot at the benches.
Except today, you aren't there. And now Sarah is calling you when she shouldn't, but that she doesn't know.
"I can't. I have stuff to work on stuff"
Bullshit.
Your laptop and the half-written essay sit untouched at the coffee table. The thing being touched in question, is something entirely different.
"Need help?"
His hands grip any free spot of your glistening skin, sucking on the rosy pink until it turns maroon red.
"I'm at my dorm, sorry"
Double bullshit.
Sarah doesn't even know your car is parked next to her dad's truck. She has about four hours to find out.
"I can drop by later then" she suggests.
His hot breath tingles against your neck as his nose caresses the spot. Bad girl, he mouths, like he wasn't the one who told you to pick up, despite his daughter's name on the caller's ID. You try to reach for a kiss, but his digits press on your hair, pulling you back with violence to forbid your lips from touching his. Bad girl, and your arousal drips with more intensity at the remark. Bad girl.
"No!" the answer comes quick, your voice strained, and Sarah jokes that you should take it easy with your classes, instead of suspecting anything else.
"Fine! I won't go if you don't want me to, but if you show up dead by stress, I'll be free of guilt"
He kisses the outline of your jaw with sloppy movements, like he just wants to busy himself while Sarah blabbers about the practice, and you keep trying to make her stop, but she tells you not to worry, that she's on a break right now, and the task to avoid whimpering at his rough kisses across your neck becomes increasingly difficult. A gasp escapes your lips when his teeth sink into your flesh. Mine, not to be said but to be felt. Seen by the rest. A pretty red that tastes like the blood he craves, the hunger akin to violence. Bad girl, and he's biting your lip to stop any other filthy noises from escaping. What if she hears?
"Are you okay?" concern laced on Sarah's tone. Guilt creeps through the cracks of the worn-out paint of his bedroom, one your friend had practically begged him to restore; the joke of it all was that was about his job yet he couldn't fix his own goddamn house. "Y/n, did you hurt yourself?"
I'm treating you well, ain't I, doll? and then he'd grin against the crook of your neck before looking at you, his dark blown-wide pupils gazing at you with a hunger you didn't think it was possible. They'd burn, and the fire didn't scare you: it was the warm your cold body needed. Tell Sarah her daddy ain't hurting her slut of a friend.
"I-I'm fine" you manage to choke out. Good girl.
Joel's lids feel heavy as a crown. But you like 'em rough, don't 'cha, baby?
"Should I worry?"
Joel pulls harder, your scalp burning at the harsh tug. Answer when I ask. You breathe in heavily, and Sarah keeps on asking you if you're okay, threatening to burst through a dorm door she'll find empty.
"N-no" you meekly answer, and he laughs at your demeanor. Under his weight, pinned down on the mattress, there's nowhere to run to.
"Is it okay if I-"
"Sarah I need to hang, okay? My head hurts. Bye" it all comes down in a rush, the words a vomit of excuses. You make sure the call has ended, and so does Joel, that in an act of mercy, has stopped. You both look the screen until the lockscreen is back up again, a picture of you and Sarah. Despite used to having his weight on top of you, your throat feels constricted.
"Do you want to traumatize your daughter, Mr. Miller?"
He's back at his task of kissing, making you moan and writhe at the sensitivity of your kissed and bit skin during the last hour. You hate how he takes his time―edging you; unbearable.
"What I want is you"
The lie comes out effortlessly from his teeth. He wants you, needs you, but does he really want you? His daughter's best friend, the college girl he was going to lecture just last summer―to live life and forget about him, yet couldn't. He lies to himself, saying he didn't because you felt asleep, but feeling a warm body next to him, being your beautiful frame of all people, made it hard.
The way he makes a moaning mess out of you, how he knows every spot of your body no one had been able to please before, how your cunt stretches perfectly around his cock, how you call his name like no one else had done. It belongs to you now, and this is a vice.
It's like he's got a wound, and you're the only balm that can soothe the pain. But the effect is temporary, and after you leave, he always finds himself wanting more.
The doubt on his eyes has your heart beating out of fear.
"Then have me, Mr. Miller" you dare.
When Joel smiles, barely noticeable, something flutters in your stomach.
"Al'ight, impatient one. We have sum hours until Sarah's back. Spread" his hand nudges your thighs apart, and you oblige, making Joel chuckle at your obedience. "Good girl, baby. S'good f'r me"
You let out a gentle moan at the praise, and he smirks at your reaction.
"Feelin' desperate, are we?" he taunts, seeing your pretty lips parted and face flushed, a whine escaping them.
"Shut the fuck up and just kiss me already" you beg, pussy throbbing painfully.
"Damn brat" he hisses, "ain't you such'a needy greedy slut?" his finger hooks on your panties, tugging you closer into him, your body rising to clash against his softer frame that has nothing to do with his rough demeanor. You can feel the bulge that has formed through his pants, making you moan in delight.
"Sorry, daddy. I'll be a good girl" you squirm under his weight, pouting lips and batting eyelashes. "Please, kiss me. Pretty please, daddy"
"Jus' cus you asked well" but he knows it's an excuse to capture your sweet lips until he's tasted all of you. You once heard old men kiss like they want to devour every inch of your mouth, to make space for their tongue like it's going to live in there, and they were right.
He pulls away from the kiss to pull out his shirt, revealing his soft body. Your hands itch, immediatly reaching for it with wandering fingers. He chuckles at the eagerness, but then he catches the subtle adoration in your eyes, and his breath hitches, heart stopping.
"What's wrong?" you look up, and it's gone. Maybe he imagined it.
Joel doesn't know why he feels dissapointed by it.
He tries to push the thoughts back, head diving down between your breasts, leaving sloppy kisses and messy trails of saliva with his tongue on each one. He gives a special lick to your hardened nipples, making you squirm.
"Gonna bend y'r fuckin' sexy little body on this sheets. Gonna make you cum all'over, until y'r scent is'mpregnated on 'em"
You groan at his words, fingers pulling down the pajama shorts you brought over, revealing your pretty black laced lingerine.
"Fuck, baby. You wore 'em for me?" he's asking, and you'd be crazy if you think the tone reveals devotion. Is Joel even capable of warmth?
He leaves a new trail of kisses, this time, running from your neck to your stomach.
"Gonna make you scream my name 'til that's the only thin' you know how to say" his hot breath tingles over your abdomen. He buries his face in there, the mustache and scruffy graying hair tickling the skin. "Gon' give you such'a load, this flat stomach of yours will be bustin' with my seed"
You whine at his filthy words, mouth agape slightly. He looks at your soaked panties, arousal on clear display now. Joel's cock twitches in the confines of his jeans.
He lets out a low growl. "Look at you, such'a slut for me. Drippin' wet like a fuckin' whore and desperate, when I ain't even touch you"
To prove so, Joel teasingly runs his fingers along your inner thigh, dangerously close to your soaking core.
He pulls your underwear down, taking them off.
"M'gonna fuck you real good, baby" his fingers dig on your thighs for support, the burning sensation of his calloused digits on your soft skin delicious. "Gon' take care of what's mine"
Mine.
The words ring loud and clear. The only other noise to be heard is his lips leaving wet sounds against your thighs. Does Joel even realize what he said? Or was it in the heat of the moment?
No, wait. Stop. Why do you care?
He begins to rub circles in your clit, coating his fingers in your dripping arousal, prodding the tense needy hole, making you moan in desperation.
"Please, daddy" your lips cry as you beg for him to do anything to remove the pain in between your legs.
"Please, what?" Joel teases, voice raspy. He keeps prodding your center, his digits in and out in a gentle manner, contrasting his hard hold on your thigh. You squirm and whine at the sensation, but maybe it's the dark on his eyes that's really responsable for making you shrink under his gaze. "Think 'm doin' this for ya'? To please ya'? No, baby" he tuts, "you were a bad girl. Almost got caught"
"If you didn't make me answer" you seethe, a moan almost escaping your lips when his fingers hit that sweet spot of yours. "Maybe if you didn't, she wouldn't-"
Joel removed his fingers from you, and you reduce to a moaning mess, begging for the release you were chasing and now it's lost.
"But you wanted'er to know, didn't ya'?" he unbuckles his belt and fumbles with his worn-out jeans, revealing a barely concealed neediness on his side. "Wanted'er to know where 'er slut of a friend was: at daddy's house, beggin' for his dick like a cockhungry slut"
"I-I want it. Want you dick" you barely choke out, lips parted at the sight of his pulsating dick's silhouette under his brief.
"Then take it, hungry one"
His tip buries deeply into your cunt before you even speak again, sliding inside in one swift motion. You gasp, as he fills you up completely, because despite the way your cunt stretches for him, or the way you have had his dick and need it, his girth never fails to amaze you.
"D-daddy" you moan, walls stretching to accommodate his size. Your sweet arousal drips down your thighs, coating Joel's balls. Fuck, doesn't he love to see you squirming under him. He's never had a woman like you before, wrapped around his finger. You may be a girl, but God, you feel so much better around his dick than anyone else: your cunt tenses around his cock deliciously, his dick twitching when he takes a look at your legs shaking and fucked out state.
"That's it, pretty girl. Beg for'it"
His words go straight to your core as you moan. "Please. Let me take all of you, Joel, please"
You said his name. Fuck. He shouldn't be this aroused, but the way you say it like that's the only thing you know, like it means something more, it makes his dick throb and heart sting. That he, Joel Miller, old bitter man, single dad, could mean more to a young pretty girl like you.
"Fuck" he grunts, grabbing a handful of your hair as he begins to pull out slowly, plunging inside of you with harsh movements. The sound of skin clapping is obscene as he begins to fuck you mercilessly. "Ain't you a noisy lil' thing, huh? You like that, baby? You like it rough?"
Your voice comes out shaky. "Y-yes, daddy. F-fuck, just like that. I like it a l-lot"
"Good girl" he grins satisfied with your respone, his thrusts getting rougher and messier. "Lookin' s'pretty with my dick's inside of you"
Joel changes angles without telling you, brushing your g-spot. A noise so loud and vulgar comes out of your parted lips, and you feel ashamed.
But then he's brushing a strand of hair from your face, with a delicacy you've seen reserved for his daughter only. It feels weird, and you try that it doesn't distract you from your looming orgasm.
"Joel..." you breath out his name.
"Yes?" with everything coming out of his mouth: possesiveness, neediness, pleasure. Like he'd give you the world if you just ask, despite telling himself he wouldn't.
"K-keep going"
Your gaze bores into his eyes with an intensity that almost makes him stop. Because the words are simple, but Joel's been alive enough on this Earth to know it doesn't mean just that.
Keep going. Don't stop. Don't end this. Don't let me go.
"Whatever m'princess asks if she asks 'em nice"
You scream in pleasure as his thrusts become deeper, his balls slapping against your cunt, as your slick begins to run down your thighs. Joel thinks he's going crazy at the way your folds take him, how tight you feel, and the loud noises you make, begging him to fuck you harder, to use you. Every thrust pushes you closer to the edge, writhing under his touch as you begin to see stars.
"You close, aren't ya'?" he laughs, but it's devoid of mockery. A subtle softness hides behind them. Ask nicely, and I shall give. "Gon' cream 'round my dick like a good girl, right?"
His digits dig in the flesh of your hips, guiding himself to fuck you harder, for you to take him better, caging your body under the sheets, pushing you even closer to your orgasm. You mewl loudly, tears in the corner of your eyes at the delicious burn.
If you told yourself a year ago you'd be crying over Joel Miller's dick, of all people, you'd probably laugh. But no college boys had been able to please you, less bring you to tears as you reach your orgasm. This is heaven, and you aren't ready to say goodbye to the paradise you found in summer just yet.
Your core tenses around him, body so close to finishing, hair a mess, eyes brimming with tears, and lips spilling the filthiest sounds ever heard to humankind. It's heaven, and Joel isn't ready to give it up just yet. Your pussy throbs, and as your juices mix as one, you roll your eyes and head back, your high approaching, knot in your stomach tightening faster. Before you can register, your mind goes blank and you're seeing stars.
You come around his cock, coating it in your arousal as Joel admires how you cream his member, tight walls almost pushing him out of you. He groans at your simmering cries, some tears coming out of your eyes.
"What'e fuckin' slut, baby. You sure are somethin' else" he chuckles, his thrusts messier by his own high approaching. "Wait for me, yeah, baby?"
You humm, as he buries deep into you, filling you up completely, as his hips stop their harsh movements when he feels the tension in his abdomen release.
"Fuckin' sweet" he uses a finger to clean some of the slick that's run down your leg. "Good girl"
He licks them off in an obscene display, making sure to never break contact.
"If you keep doing that, I'm gonna become a real bad girl" you taunt.
Then he pulls out of you carefully, doing his best not to spill too much of his load from your cunt. He grabs one of the corners of his sheets, cleaning some of his seed from your thighs. Joel should be careful, but all his foggy mind can muster is you being his in every way he can. Making you his. Mine. Mine. Mine. You plead him not to do that, but he argues laundry day is soon and he likes it better when it smells like you anyway. You confess with a cute light blush in your cheeks that you do the same when he comes over to fuck you in your dorm, sleeping better when the covers smell like him. He shouldn't feel like this: like it could be. But he allows himself to, even for an instant.
"Oh, yeah?" he pants, "what you gon' do?"
Your eyes travel to his jeans and untied buckle he hadn't wasted time taking off, rather just pulling them down.
"I have something in mind..." you wander off, remembering filthy thoughts of your first night together, how you briefly thought about it. "I-" you cut off, blushing furiously.
"Yes?" he holds your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him as his rough fingers press on the skin. "Remember what I told ya', baby? To ask nicely? 'Cause you said you'd be a good girl, so be one and tell daddy what'd ya' want"
You gulp, trying to hold his gaze. You never back down. You never back down. But the intensity of the shinning copper makes that insufferable character of yours to be tamed, boiling against the surface but just scratching, all screams lost. Is like he knows this power over you, acting on it with a benevolence so sick, it has you thinking loving Joel Miller isn't impossible.
You never back down, but being with Joel feels like walking over stones, always thinking about the next step and the ones that were, ghosts of the lingering doubts and afterthoughts behind every step you take. It's like there's a river below them, washing away regret.
But you're still here: water up your knees then and now over your head.
You're barely floating. You'd be willing to drown anyway.
"I want to ride your belt buckle"
There's silence in the other side, until its met with a light chuckle.
"Yeah?" Joel keeps on laughing, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. "S'that what that filthy head of yours be thinkin' on?"
"Stop it" you groan, covering your hot face with your palms. You wish you could erase that ugly smirk off his face. "I'm never telling you anything again, ever"
"Now c'mon, baby. I was jus' messin' 'round" his tone adquires a soft edge to it, tender warm hands removing yours from your face. "Don't cover your face, baby. You're too goddam pretty" you blush, and Joel better resist the urge to kiss you just for the sake of kissing you. "I didn't mean to make fun of ya'. You know y'can tell me anythin' that's goin' inside that head of yours"
"Then you'll let me?" your pretty eyes look up to him, shinning like the stars of the summer night sky months ago.
He can't deny you anything, and a small crack of fear wounds his impenetrable heart.
"Get'ere you filthy slut"
You eagerly climb onto his lap as he sits against the beds headboard, your thighs pushing against his belly.
"Now" he tries to put in a more comfortable position, his tired joints creaking. He avoids your gaze, coughing over his blush. "You do all the job, baby. I ain't gonna help you, this greedy pussy took all of my energy"
You giggle, moving until your bare pussy clashes against the cold. A shiver runs down your spine, the dried juices moistening again over the metal piece. His hands move to your hips, hands now soft as they hold you, and he seems unsure of it, both of your breaths coming out ragged.
"You said you weren't gonna help" you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck. His face feels closer, and you can see lines time has marked across his features. "But thanks, daddy"
His heart takes a dangerous leap.
"'Course, baby" he smiles. "You know I spoil ya' too damn much"
You begin to roll your hips, sliding your pussy over the cold material, your arousal making a wet slick sound that bounces off the walls, a shiver down your back as you feel your slick already coating the front of it and the top of his jeans.
"Mmm, can't say no to me, can you, baby?" you mock, rocking your hips back and forth. A shaky breath escapes your parted lips, and Joel feels his renovated dick spring hard. You moan, your ass barely touching his now tense member.
"Quit runnin' that mouth of y'rs, baby" his digits dig on your skin, "or I'll bend ya' over again"
"Sorry, daddy" you feel the metal star on the middle digging inside your pussy, the borders of the imprint brushing your leaking cunt in a pleasant way. "I promise to be good"
"Do" he grunts, "you're runnin' out of time, doll"
You close your eyes, movements more quick and erratic, little moans leaving your body as you groan.
"Tell me how this lil' experiment of yours feelin', baby"
"F-feels good, daddy. Fuck" you groan, lifting your hips a bit as you grind yourself down across the material. "So so good, daddy. Thank you, daddy"
"Mmm, that's right. Now be a good girl and come for me. Let me see that pretty face of yours when ya' come over ma' belt"
You let out a shaky breath, juices spilling over his jeans even as you see stars. He chuckles, enamoured at the sight.
"You gonna need help with that?" you point out his boner.
Oh, aren't you a doll? So kind-hearted.
"That's okay" he breathes out, tiredly. He thinks of the next trip to the bathroom, the image of what he'll fuck himself to clear now.
You smile at him, for the first time forgetting this started as a blowing-off-steam-time or transaction.
For a moment, it feels like it could be.
"Jus' seein' you cum all over me so prettily is'nough, baby"
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peachesofteal · 2 days ago
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Simple Math / Part Twenty
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Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.1k words - AO3 Tags: 18+ mdni, nurse reader, feelings of fear and panic, PTSD, references to domestic violence. Trauma, blood. Flashbacks. Dubious ethics and morality, dark content.
“Are ye comin’ inside?”
“I need a minute.” He needs more than a minute. He needs days, weeks. Needs to wind back the clock and slam it into the ground, over and over again, until the springs and hands and tiny numbers splinter into pieces.
Failure. He failed. They failed.
They failed you.
“Wait, go back.” The video pauses and rolls backward, all the way until Simon tells Kate to stop it when you step out of the elevator. “What’s in her hand?” 
“Dinnae,” Johnny’s nose is practically touching the screen. 
“The recording is pretty low quality; I’ve tried enhancing it with no luck.” Kate’s voice crackles through the speakers from the other side of the laptop, the other side of the world. This is the first time they’ve managed to get a hold of her in weeks, and even now, the connection is half static. 
“Looks like a piece of paper, or a picture?” Johnny murmurs, leaning back. 
“This is just before she bolts,” the playback continues, and they watch as you walk down the hall, bright smile fading when you reach the corner. “She’s here for a minute and then runs…” Simon is glued to the screen, forward on his haunches, and Johnny rubs his back, kneading his knuckles into that ever-present knot in his shoulder. He watches your head turn, your back stiffen, and Johnny sucks in a breath. 
Kate nods the confirmation. She’s already put the puzzle together. 
Graves.
You’re reacting to Graves, seeing Graves. Entire demeanor shifting, changing from their sweet, smart girl with newfound confidence, to a deer, shocked and startled, running from a scope. 
Graves.
It’s simple math. Plain as day. You take one look at where he’s come around the corner, running his mouth, chewing that fucking gum, and split. 
It’s Graves. 
And it all makes sense. 
“-you don’t know what he’s capable of. You don’t understand. He’s chased me across the world, he always finds me, no matter what, no matter what I do”
“He’s in the military. Some sort of security work, department of defense, or something. He never really talked about it.”
“He always finds me.” 
“He has resources. Has followed me across the globe more than once. My only saving grace is that when he has to work, he has to work, and it’s usually for long chunks of time.”
“I’m originally from Texas.” 
Texas. Texas. Texas. 
There was a conversation, months ago, that slipped through Simon’s fingers. A wisp of a suspicion, one pushed away by doubt, by disbelief.  
Not possible. A coincidence. 
He was wrong, about being wrong. He was right, all along.
Johnny nearly flips the table before Simon urges him back down. “Where… where does she go after this?” 
“She gets the car,” Simon answers, timeline clicking into place, “she borrows that gits car, comes home, packs a bag, and runs.” Johnny’s hands are shaking, fingers white against his knees. 
They’ll kill him. He’ll paint the walls with Phillip’s blood. They’ll do what should have done in the first place. 
He should have protected you, should have seen it all clearly. Should have applied more pressure and made you crack, if only for your own safety. 
He failed. 
They failed. 
“That piece o’ shite, I’ll-“ 
“Kill him.” Simon finishes simply, and they exchange a look. A promise without words. Simon will shatter his skull between his palms if he has to. 
Johnny nods. The gears are already turning. Are they so different from a man who has stopped at nothing to drag you back to him? 
No. 
They'd burn the world for you, to protect you, to bring you home to them. 
Kate clears her throat. “There’s more.” More? “I was checking some records, looking at her last clock out, when the last paycheck was paid out and I pulled her personal information, her medical chart.” Kate’s tone is wary, hesitant, and Johnny straightens. 
“What is it?” There’s a pause on the other end of the line, unsure trepidation that’s so unlike Kate the hair on the back of Simon’s neck stands up. 
“Kate…” 
“She’s pregnant.” You could hear a pin drop. Johnny’s rage turns to panic, and an ocean of blood rushes in Simon’s ears. 
“She’s- she’s what?” 
“She’s pregnant. By now, she’s probably twenty weeks, maybe? I’m not sure. I don’t know much about those things, but her chart notes say both of them are… were in good health. Low risk.” 
“Twenty weeks,” Johnny echoes, faraway look in his eyes. 
A baby. You’re pregnant. 
Pregnant. Pregnant and alone, and scared. Running away.  
From them. 
Simon’s trying to wrap his head around it, but he can’t. The information doesn’t fit. It doesn’t make sense. 
“If she’s twenty weeks, then she’s been pregnant since before she left.” Johnny’s talking to himself at this point, because Simon can’t force his mouth to make words. “Why keep it a secret?” Kate is telling them something about index hits and cameras, but it all amounts to nothing after you board the train, and Simon still fails to make a sound. 
And then, she piles it on. 
“Graves is in the wind.” Simon’s heart stops like he’s been struck by lightning, electricity jolting him alive. 
“How?” 
“He went offline. No traceable activity in the last week or so. Last known location was Texas. After that, I’m not sure. Yet.”
‘He can’t be in the wind,” Johnny whisper shouts, all too aware of Penny upstairs, napping. “We need to know where he is. Now.” 
“I’m doing all I can. He has resources too, you know. A lot of them.” The screen goes black for a second, before she reappears, lips pressed into a grim line. “I have to go. I’ll keep you updated. Sorry guys.”
They can only nod. 
It’s clear as day, what happened now. How you saw them in the hallway, how you drew the conclusion, one that seemed so painfully obvious, connected the dots that appeared in your mind, stringing together bits and pieces until it all made sense.
He knows what will have to happen now. They both do. 
Simon presses his forehead to Johnny’s. “We’ll find her.” 
“An’ bring her home.” 
“No matter what.” 
The rest is left unsaid. 
You’re having a dream.
It’s a lovely one, more of a memory than anything else, but a dream, nonetheless.
“This still feels like a bad idea.” 
“Isnae, ye’ll do great bun. Jus’ the ‘hawk now.” You’ve already finished the sides of his head, which were easy enough, but using actual scissors to cut hair is well outside your wheelhouse. 
“What if I mess it up?” 
“It’s jus’ hair, pretty girl. It grows.” 
“How’s it going out here?” Simon leans out the sliding door, Penny in his arms, and you try to plead with him with wide, nervous eyes. He chuckles. “Looks good so far.” 
“See?” Johnny smiles, one of the big ones that stretches his whole face and makes your knees weak. Penny loves them too, and she claps her hands together, giggling. 
“But… I don’t… I’m going to mess it up.” Johnny stands, warm hands on your arms. 
“Ye could shave me bald and wouldnae mess it up, bun.” You nod, but the acid, noxious taste of worry is still there on your tongue. 
“I just… I…” you’re starting to shake a little, fingers squeezing together. He tugs you into his chest, kisses your temple. 
“Ye’re alright.” 
“I know.” You do know. You’re safe. They’d never hurt you, never betray your trust or even yell at you, but muscle memory doesn’t forget. “I know, I’m sorry.” 
“Ye dinnae have to be sorry.” 
“It’s okay, bunny.” Simon murmurs, but it’s not. 
Is this how you’ll spend your whole life? Afraid? Shaking? 
No. 
Not anymore. 
“If I ruin his hair… it’s not my fault.” Simon chuckles. 
“We’ll blame him.” You turn back to Johnny and put your hands on his shoulders, taking a deep breath, surveying the mop of unruly brown strands, and he covers one of yours with his own. 
“It’s okay. If ye-“ 
“No, I can. I can do it.” You don’t know why you’re so nervous. It’s just a hair cut, for crying out loud, but for some reason it feels like plunging into the deep end of a pool. “Okay,” you breathe, making the first snip. He nods encouragingly and you roll your shoulders. 
“See? Not so bad?” 
“Not so bad.” You cut again and again, trying to manage it all into a proper length, shaping as best you can. 
Each snip, something grows. Your hands tremble a little less, your jaw unclenches, lips flexing upward into your cheeks. You breathe deeper. 
When Johnny turns around, he doesn’t care about his hair, or the slightly uneven chunks, or the fresh clippings on his shirt. 
He cups your face, kissing you before pulling away to rub his thumb across your cheek. 
“There she is.” 
Spring rain. There’s nothing like it.
It washes away the gloom of winter. It’s the turning of a page, the spine of a brand-new book snapped open with a splintering crack. Cabin fever becomes walks in the park, lunches and coffees outside, hanging out on balconies and patios.
Dead things turned to soil now sprouting new life.
Like you, you guess.
You’ve been dead before. If someone looked really closely, they could see it in your eyes. The grey of decay, the separation of iris and pupil. Dead and brought back not quite right, every time. Sally, stitched together incorrectly, the wrong pieces of patchwork, poorly aligned.
Every time he ripped another piece of you away, you found a different one, one less like you, to put in its place.
Every time, until you weren’t you at all. Until you were a girl in a mirror. Until you were a ghost.
It makes sense that you don’t know yourself now, haven’t known for years. On the run, there’s not a lot of time to stop and consider things like that, those pieces. Coffee or tea? Chocolate cake or vanilla? Do you like snow? Do you like the beach? 
Do you like yourself? 
You could have had these answers, you think. Could have learned these things, if it hadn’t turned out the way it did. If Simon and Johnny hadn’t turned out to be a hydra, mouths open, waiting to devour you.
Sunbeam kicks. They nail you in the bladder, and you wince, rubbing over the crest of your belly. “You’re killing me, you know that?” You feel like you’ve been hit by a bus, every day. The aches and pains are never ending, your back and hips screaming by the end of a shift. You can’t sleep, the heartburn makes it hard to eat, you’re never comfortable.
The whole time, you curse them, Simon and Johnny.
Their fault, it’s their fault.
And yours too. 
But no matter how tired, how sore, how cranky you are, you can’t bring yourself to regret it, and in your dreams, it’s like all the bad, all the awful betrayal didn’t even happen. You dream of a family with them, Penny holding her little sibling, the five you together. It’s all been buried in your mind, too deep and nearly impossible to dig out. The visions of them, the longing, the good memories. You’re infested with them.
You didn’t want this. You wanted them, you wanted it all, and that might be the hardest thing about it. You weren’t given a choice, this decision was made for you, taken from you, just like almost everything else.
Except little sunbeam. You wanted them, chose them, will choose them, over and over, forever, keep them safe, make sure they know they’re loved.
No matter what. 
It’s the train, always the train.
Not the long rail train, the commuter train. The one that takes you to and from work, the one that’s sometimes-standing room only, though most people offer you their seat, which is surprisingly kind, compared to where you’re from.
Regardless, you feel the gaze on the train, and no matter how hard you scan, dissect, watch the people around you, there’s nothing. All three faces, three sets of eyes, three profiles, are never anywhere to be seen.
It’s overwhelming, unsettling. The stress of this prickling unease combined with the stress and physical strain of your job is taking its toll on both you and Sunbeam, as the midwife likes to remind you.
Take it easy, take some time off, try to relax. Stay hydrated, eat well.
Yeah… okay.
You rub your belly anxiously, tugging your hood farther over your head, trying to look around without being so obvious.
“Excuse me?” You jolt, startled by a man standing at your elbow, pointing to a vacant spot on a bench. “Would you like my seat?” His smile is subtle, matching an encouraging but not overly intrusive demeanor.
“Sure, thank you so much.” He nods, stepping to the side, into the space between the seat and the divider, close to the door. You try to swing your backpack in front of you, but it gets caught, and he snags it before it falls. “Sorry, thanks.”
“Of course, no problem.” You give him another glance. Really handsome, rich brown eyes you could get lost in. He’s got a baseball cap on, but it’s not pulled down over his face like your hood, he’s not trying to hide. “I’ll move when your stop comes up.”
“Okay, it’s not for a while so, no worries.” He might be kind, but he’s still a stranger, and you’re not going to divulge anything specific. Stranger danger. 
Not everyone is a threat but… 
“How far along are you?” You blink.
“Uh, about twenty-five weeks, give or take a few days.” He nods.
“My wife is due next week; it’s been a rollercoaster.”
“Yeah, it’s not the easiest.” You laugh, a little apprehensive, but also, a little glad, secretly, to have a casual conversation with someone. He sticks his hand out.
“I’m Kyle.” Your tongue rolls with the practiced name you’ve memorized, the one you’ve drilled into yourself over and over again. “Nice to meet you.”
“Yeah, you too.” The next stop is announced, and he moves gracefully, reaching for his bag and tugging it over his shoulder, barely giving you a second glance.
“This is me, have a good day.”
“Thanks.” He doesn’t look over his shoulder at you when he’s getting off, doesn’t watch you through the window from the platform. He’s completely uninterested, and you breathe a sigh of relief.
The box is delivered on a Tuesday.
The Scottish government gives you almost everything you need. Clothes, thermometers, baby books, a changing mat, a mattress, a sheet, a blanket, the list goes on. The box even doubles as a bassinet.
You cry over it. Rifling through everything, tears drip down your cheeks and you bury your face in your hands. You didn’t get to share an ultrasound with anyone, or have a shower, or hold someone’s hand to your belly as sunbeam kicked, but there’s this. A box full of baby stuff, a box that says no matter how hard it is, you and sunbeam will have a good start. Even Sunbeam’s room is halfway sorted at this point, crib set up, dresser half stocked with clothes, collection of diapers and burp cloths and bottles starting to pile up in various places in their room. You’ve made it comfortable, slowly, mix matched furniture and all.
Every day feels like a year, but as each one passes, you slowly adjust to a new normal, a new life. Something you made, again, from scratch, for yourself, your survival.
And now, for Sunbeam.
One day, maybe it will feel like home.
You really need to stop buying so much crap at the store.
You practically have to drag your grocery loot into the elevator, bags overflowing with fruit, vegetables, cans of formula. Random cleaning products, stuff for baby proofing, a new candle.
Apparently, some call this nesting. You just call it annoying.
You lean against the wall and close your eyes for a moment, shifting your weight to alleviate the pressure on your spine.
Thirty weeks.
Ten weeks left.
Ten weeks left. It’s wild to even think about, to even say to yourself, or out loud. You’re going to be a mom in ten weeks. Going to have a whole human depending on you for every single thing, in ten weeks.
You’ll be alone, with a newborn, in ten weeks.
Alone.
It still aches. Stings. Salt in the wound-
Lit end of a cigarette against your skin.
You instinctively cup your belly, thumb rubbing over where one of your burn scars has been stretched by Sunbeam, and shiver.
You’re fine. You’re safe. Get it together.
“We’re home!” You announce to no one, no one except Gus the goldfish who’s swimming circles around his bowl. You got him two weeks ago on an impulse, following a pathetic, sad desire all the way to the pet store.
It’d be nice to have something to come home to. 
You tap a few flakes into the water and watch him gobble them up, oddly soothed by his presence in the flat.
This is how far you’ve fallen. Taking comfort in a damn goldfish.
You blow out a breath and fall onto the couch, swinging your legs up onto the cushions, dragging the pillows under your ankles, or what used to be your ankles. They’re more like overstuffed sausages now, tops of your sneakers cutting into your skin. Every chance you get, you’re finding places to sit at work, caught yourself leaning most of your weight on your patient’s beds, more than once. Thankfully, your coworkers are overwhelmingly understanding.
And when you come home, you do this. Collapse on the couch. Talk to a goldfish, or Sunbeam, or both.
The oddest trio: Mom, baby, goldfish.
You manage to limit yourself to three bites of ice cream before putting the carton away in the freezer. You’re supposed to be watching your sugar intake, apparently, not because you’re at risk for gestational diabetes, but because Sunbeam is already projected to be on the bigger side.
You look mournfully at container, spoon still in hand.
One more. What’s it going to hurt? One more bite isn’t going to turn Sunbeam into a giant, it’s-
Knuckles rap against your door.
Your blood goes cold, colder than ice, and you instinctively find the floor, crouching by the fridge, using it to shield yourself, keeping away from the door’s direct line of sight.
The knocking gets louder.
Someone’s saying something on the other side of the door, but you can’t hear it over the buzzing, beeping sound in your ears.
How. 
How? How did it happen so fast? Where did you fuck up? 
The fear you once felt for yourself pales in comparison to the true fear you feel now. You’re supposed to protect Sunbeam, supposed to keep them safe.
You’re supposed to be a mom. 
A sob claws its way out, and you clap your palm over your mouth, agony squeezing your heart, panic clutching your throat in a vise, choking off your air, throttling you until you’re gasping.
You should run, should sprint into the bedroom and grab the gun from under your mattress, should start crawling out the window to the fire escape.
You should do these things, but instead, you’re trapped, immobile, watching with horror as the deadbolt turns horizontal, sliding the lock free with a bloodcurdling click.
Your baby. You were supposed to keep your baby safe. 
You failed. 
You stand, so unsteady you have to support your weight by leaning against the counter. The only thing in here are kitchen knives, and you rip two from the block, one hiding behind your back, the other brandished in front of your body like a sword.
You’re going to die. 
But not without a fight. 
Tears wet your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you choke, sliding a hand over little Sunbeam, “I’m so- so sorry.”
The creak of the door handle is unmistakable, a metal whine scraping against the frame. You close your eyes.
“Bunny.”
Your heart stops.
The men you thought love you are standing just inside your kitchen, the sight of them turning your stomach, their eyes flicking between you and the shiny, sharp knife in your hand.
Johnny inches forward, his voice a low, gentle murmur, one that cracks your heart. “It’s okay pretty girl, we’re here to take ye home.”
“Get away from me.” The knife is practically rattling in your hand.
"It's alright. We’d never hurt ye, either of ye. We know what ye saw and-“
“N-no,” you sob, voice cracking, shoulders shaking, “don’t come near me.”
“Put that down, sweet girl, it’s alright.” Simon edges around the counter, caution and wary weighing his steps. They’re supposed to be muffled you think, soft, but they ring so loud.
“Stop!”
“Just let us explain, give us a minute-“
“I saw you! I saw you w-with him.” Your vision is blurred by tears, and you look down at your belly, desperate. “Just let us go, please. Don’t- don’t let him-“
“Listen to me, sweetheart. We have nothing to do with Phillip.” His name makes your flinch, and you inch backwards.
“You know him.”
“We do. He tried to kill us, betrayed us, on a mission. Nearly succeeded with Johnny.” The words conflict, mash together into a scramble you don’t understand. It doesn’t make sense.
More lies. 
“I don’t believe you.”
“I know, I know you don’t. I wouldn’t if I was in your position either, but we’re telling the truth.” You shake your head.
“No. You’re just… you’re just trying to trick me.”
“We’re not,” Johnny murmurs, “We’ve always told ye the truth, bun. And we’d never hurt ye.” He steps forward. It’s too close, way too close, and you pivot, both knives still clutched in your hands.
“Put them down.” Simon instructs, a little bit of steel in his voice now. He can obviously see the one behind your back, and your heart starts to sink.
There’s no way out. You should have run when you had the chance. 
Stupid.
The girl in the mirror stays silent. She says nothing.
For all you know, she’s dead already. Killing blow dealt by your own hand.
You think about Sunbeam, all warm and safe, protected from the world, and despair swells in your chest, an entire ocean beneath your feet, waiting to swallow you up, drag you down and drown you.
“Now, sweetheart. We don’t want you to hurt yourself.” You laugh. It’s a sickly, nervous thing, too tinny and high pitched.
You’re falling apart. You’re not a fighter, you’re a runner, shot lame in a race rigged against you from the beginning. They’re closing in, wolves stalking the bleeding lamb between them, predators about to fall on prey.
 “Don’t,” whisper, fingers tightening around the knife in front of your body, unable to hold it steady through the trembling.
“Bunny, listen to us, please.” Johnny is reaching and you get trapped in his gaze, spiraling into the swirl of misery and fear, mirroring your own. “I love ye, we love ye. Ye belong with us, at home, where we can keep ye safe.” You slam your eyes shut, trying to block him out. “I’ve loved ye since the day I opened m’eyes and saw ye leaning over the bed. We’d never hurt ye, we jus’ want to take ye home.”
Out of the corner of your eye, Simon moves. One powerful, huge step, and he’s on you, grabbing your arm, applying pressure to your knuckles to release the knife.
You scream. It’s instinct. Everything shuts down, narrowing down to one objective.
Run.
“Johnny,” he half shouts over your keening, holding gentle pressure against your arm as you try to rip yourself free. “Shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay.” You thrash, trying to twist out of his grip, shoulder shrieking in pain, and he goes with your momentum, providing slack so there’s no tension in your arm. “Stop, you’re going to hurt yourself sweetheart, you’re okay.”
You’re not. 
You’re not okay. You’ll never be okay. 
The walls close in, and it all becomes so clear. Your future, what will happen if they take you, if you leave here with them.
They’ll take Sunbeam. They’ll turn you over to Phillip, throw you out like trash, and you’ll die.
Are you going to let it happen, just like you let everything else? Are you going to roll over? Let it all be stolen, again and again? 
No. 
Simon reaches for the other knife and you swing it wide, slicing through the air until the blade meets flesh.
He hisses. Blood spills, drips down the handle, coats your fingers, and you stand there, frozen, gobsmacked.
Did you- 
Did you just- 
“Johnny,” he barks, but it barely registers, you’re too transfixed by the blood, hypnotized by it, too entranced to even register Johnny at your side, too stunned to see what’s in his hand.
A needle. 
He whispers your name, cradles your face-
And then everything goes black.
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femmeroll · 3 days ago
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𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦
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here is the sex tape w/abby ! ty for all the votes on the poll my loves >_<
abby anderson x fem reader
cw: sex tapes, soft dom top abby, sub bottom reader, strap referred to as dick/cock, masturbation mention, modern setting bc what else do i write
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abby hates plenty of things. she hates when the machines she wants to use are taken at the gym. she hates when people watch videos in public without headphones. she hates when her hair won’t cooperate in the morning when she tries to braid it. but there’s one thing she hates more than all.
being away from you.
not being able to wake up with you, kiss you, touch you. it’s torture. so when she finds out she has to go on a work trip for a week, she’s crushed.
but you have a plan. a plan that involves her having something to hold her over for a week. if she can’t touch you, she can at least watch herself touch you.
and that’s how you end up here, in your bed, with abby’s phone propped up against some books on the bedside table.
abby’s strong hands are holding your legs open, her warm mouth gently suckling your clit. every moan and whimper that leaves your mouth has her grinding her hips against the plush duvet cover.
“oh baby,” she groans into you. “keep moaning for me, just like that. i love your noises so much.”
despite her rough exterior and intimidating personality, abby is so gentle with you. taking you apart with her tongue like you’re made of glass and will break at any moment.
“cum in my mouth, babygirl. cum for me and you can have my dick.”
you look over at the phone, a bit embarrassed at the idea of cumming on camera. sure, this was your idea. but in the moment it feels humiliating.
“abby…s’embarrassing,” you whine.
her tongue is unrelenting, and despite how uncomfortable it may feel to have it on camera, you can’t stop yourself from cumming as she laps at your sopping cunt.
abby kisses you gently, giving you a taste of yourself.
“there you go, sweetheart. came all over my face like a good girl.”
you moan at the praise, satisfied that you’re making her happy.
“and since you did what i asked, you can have my cock now.”
abby lines herself up, slowly stretching your aching pussy. her cock reaches parts of you that your fingers can’t even dream of. she knows exactly how to make you feel good.
her pace starts off slow and deep, making sure you can feel every inch of her cock inside of you.
“look how deep i am…i can’t wait to fuck myself while watching this in my hotel.”
you can’t help but whimper at that, imagining abby in her hotel room, three fingers deep in her cunt as she watches herself fuck you. horny, touch starved abby drooling at the sight of her own cock inside you.
“it’s so deep, abs…shit,” you groan, spreading your legs further. you need her deep, hard, and fast.
“need it faster. please abby.”
and she’ll do anything to make you feel good, so of course you get it faster. she’d go at the speed of light if it made your moans get louder and your legs shakier.
abby’s thrusts quicken, hips slapping against your thighs and ass as she fucks you.
“look at the camera, baby. watch yourself getting fucked on camera. shit…my little porn star, aren’t you?”
your face turns to the phone, and fuck, you could do this every day. knowing that abby is rearranging your guts, and she’ll have that all to herself. her own personal porno. just for her to get off.
“m’gonna cum, abby. please let me cum.”
abby fucking whines at your pleas, increasing the speed of her thrusts and gently circling your pulsing clit with her thumb.
“cum on my dick, sweet girl. cum all over it on camera. fuck.”
your jaw goes slack, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you cum, making direct eye contact with phone. you want abby to see you cum whenever she wants to. whenever she needs to see it, she can see it.
abby slowly fucks you through your orgasm, decreasing her pace as you come down from your high. she pulls her cock out of you gently, groaning at the sight of it covered in your slick.
“you came so well for me, sweetheart,” she says to your panting, limp figure. she gets off the bed and turns the camera off, knowing that she’ll be satisfied for the whole work trip.
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Creature Fear
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And if had been clean, if there had been no strings between you, this would have been easy. But, with Azriel, you had never expected the strings to disappear. They would always be there—at least, they would for you.
An angsty piece inspired by Creature Fear by Bon Iver (2.3k words)
~~
With another kick slamming into the muscle along the Shadowsinger’s thigh, you heaved in a breath that assaulted your lungs. It burned and tasted of iron as you panted, but that was simply the natural flow of training.
This was fine. 
Everything was fine. 
You weren’t picturing Azriel with his hands on her waist, swaying to the rhythm of a song you couldn’t recall. You weren’t replaying how his lips touched her ear or how his fingers tilted her jaw to the side. No part of your brain was rehashing the smile she sent him, an expression given just moments before he led her out of Rita’s. 
No, you weren’t thinking of the events the night prior as you swung at the man before you. 
He ducked—a pity, really. 
“Something on your mind?” Azriel asked, words rushed as he moved around your attempted hits. 
You grunted. “No. I’m training. That’s why you dragged me out here.” 
“Right.” 
Another jab at his face. He dodged it. You used your leg to sweep at his ankles. 
“Are you even going to try?” you goaded, frustration creeping into your tone. 
Azriel hopped back in the ring, but when you only followed his escape, he released an impatient sigh and grabbed at your shoulders, flipping you until your back met the ground with a soft groan. 
“What’s the matter?” he huffed out above you. “You’re antsy. Your moves are sloppy and you really seem to want to hit me.” 
“I have hit you.” 
“Y/n,” Azriel warned. 
You ticked your jaw to the side, still out of breath as his chest pressed to yours. This was not an unusual position for the two of you. In fact, it was a position you had found yourself in just last week, only there was far less anger and far more pillows. And it had been dark—quite romantic if anyone had asked you, but no one was asking you. 
Because the relationship between you and the Shadowsinger was not public knowledge, and it certainly was not exclusive. No strings, Azriel had said against your mouth when you had come together the first time. And then it was we’re just blowing off steam and only one more time and we can’t tell anyone. It was unclear why Azriel needed a concrete reason to sleep with you each time he did it, but the underlying message was clear: you were not in a relationship. 
It was just sex. 
And sure, that was fine the first time—maybe even the second and third. But you had been lying to yourself when you agreed to the arrangement in between heavy breaths and rushed fingers. Azriel was not something you could do halfway, and you knew that from the start. You’d been half in love with him from the moment you met him. This had only been the nail in the coffin. 
“Get off of me,” you demanded with forearms pressing into Azriel’s chest. 
He was unrelenting. “No. Tell me what’s wrong with you.” 
“Nothing’s wrong. You’re crushing my ribs. Get off.” 
“I don’t believe you.”
“Well, luckily, believing me has nothing to do with your ability to get off of me.” 
Azriel traced his eyes along each dip and high point of your face with a scrutinizing gaze before he finally heaved himself up, landing in a seat beside you. You sucked in a dramatic breath and propped yourself up on your palms. 
“Is it something to do with the information Rhys is having you decode?” Azriel asked, tucking his knee in the crook of his elbow. 
The side of your mouth twitched as heat licked up your throat. “No. Azriel, I told you everything’s fine. I was just trying something new Cassian wanted me to practice.” 
“Cassian wanted you to practice being reckless and untrained?” 
“That was incredibly rude.” 
Azriel breathed out a semblance of a laugh. You heard his wings shift as you kept your eyes trained on the floor, but that reprieve was short-lived as a hand met the curve of your jaw. Azriel pressed at the skin there until your gaze was level with his, and then he continued his search.
You humored him—for a moment—allowing your friend to furrow his brows at the distance you were trying to create between the two of you. 
“Tell me what’s wrong.” 
“Azriel, noth—” 
“Stop lying to me,” he interrupted, sliding his hand back until his fingers wove into the hair at the base of your neck. “I know you. Something’s wrong.” 
Your chest was beginning to feel fuzzy and the heat in your throat had melted into a blissful warmth. It was always so easy to be around Azriel, and it would be just as easy to lean forward and whisper that against his lips. Since that line had been crossed all those months ago, you had been tempted to take what you wanted several times. 
But those liberties were only afforded to you in the dark aperture that was Azriel’s room. He only touched you like this when no one else was around, saving the gentleness of his fingers in the public eye for strangers in pleasure halls and nightclubs. 
You were nothing like the girl he took home the night before. She had probably woken with him wrapped in orange morning light when you were always scampering away in the bleak blues and greys that made up the middle of the night. She was probably soft and delicate and not training for battle at the crack of dawn. 
No, to Azriel, you were only a friend and you were convenient. 
You knocked his hand away. “I told you I’m fine, Azriel. I’m just having an off day. Leave it alone.” 
Azriel, who had flinched when the back of your hand met his arm, opened his mouth to speak without sound to follow. You were already on your feet by the time he could have formulated a response.
~~
You hadn’t spoken to him in three days. 
Three days of avoiding every room he frequented. Three days of avoiding his shadows as they attempted to beckon you to the training ring, the kitchens, and the balcony where he would inevitably get you to go into town with him. Three days of driving yourself insane. 
This was always going to end poorly, but you hadn’t expected you to feel so angry. Hurt, yes, but anger was not something typically in your repertoire—especially not associated with Azriel. 
The way he touched that woman played on a loop in your mind, reminding you how it had been so easy for him to do that in front of so many eyes. That, unlike you, there was no shame accompanied by his lazy fingers. He had touched you with those same hands, with that same tenderness, just the morning after—but no one was around to see it. 
It did hurt, but it was also infuriating. 
Maybe the angry heat was just a placeholder for the pain, something easier to digest, but you didn’t care to parse out the origin.
On the fourth day of stewing in your frustration, you were ending the night in bed with a candle and a book you could hardly focus on, reading and then rereading the same page as your jaw sat sewn together. 
The knock on your door was unexpected and unwelcomed
You didn’t have it in you to speak to him. 
You opened the door despite that. 
The man on the other side looked shocked for a moment, blinking as the wind from your arrival hit his eyes, and then he looked restless, bringing his hands up as if you were about to slam the door in his face. 
“Can I come in?” he asked, eyes darting over your shoulder to your bedroom and then back to you. “I know you’re avoiding me. I miss you. Let me come in.” 
“I’m not—” 
“Please, y/n.” 
His tone, rushed and panicked, made your brows come together. You opened the door a fraction wider to let him in. He stepped forward three times and then remained in place as you turned to close the door behind you. When you turned to face him once more, your senses were overwhelmed. 
Your back was pressed to the wood and familiar hands pressed divots into the skin of your waist. Azriel was kissing you—not hurried as he usually was when you met for these reasons, but almost savoring the feel of you against him. In your shock, your hands had landed on his chest, fisting his sweater between your fingers. Having him here, like this, distracted you for a moment. 
It felt natural. 
It was good. 
When Azriel deepened the kiss, you snapped back to your anger, remembering the sly way he had guided that woman out of Rita’s. You flattened your palms against his chest and pushed, hard. The Shadowsinger stumbled back with wild eyes, and it was then you saw the state of him. His rumpled clothes and the way his hair stood up as if he’d been running his fingers through it. The rings he typically wore were each missing from his fingers and he was completely unarmed, not even the Truthteller strapped at his hip. 
“I—I shouldn’t have done that,” Azriel spoke, clearing his throat as he ran his hand along his jaw. “You’re angry at me. I came in here to ask—I wanted to make it right. I didn’t mean to—” 
“Azriel, stop. I’m not angry at you.” A lie. You were angry at him, but there were no grounds to be. You straightened out your posture and fixed your nightgown where he had wrinkled it with his fingers. “We don’t… do it this way. I come to your room.” 
“I haven’t seen you in four days,” Azriel reasoned. “I miss you. I said that.” 
You ground your teeth together, unable to look him in the eye. “I’m sure I’m not the only woman in Velaris that could warm your bed.” 
Azriel stuttered over his words before replying, “That’s not what I meant. You’re—You are my friend and I miss you because you have gone to lengths to avoid me. I would like to know why.” 
Your gaze flashed up at the crack in his voice. He stood with his palms open to you, his arms hanging by his sides. 
“Friends don’t do what we were doing. Things are different between us now, Azriel.” 
“They don’t have to be. We agreed—no strings.” 
Anger grew and festered. They don’t have to change because he wouldn’t want them to. He would want a woman like the one at the pleasure hall. He would want anyone but you. 
You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling equal parts unfair and justified. “Because the world works exactly how you want it to, doesn’t it, Azriel?” 
He paused, his pleading expressed now dumbfounded. “What?” 
“You just get to have your pick of women each night and if none of them work out you know I’ll be waiting at home for you? That your friend will be available if all of the women you’ll actually acknowledge in front of our family aren’t interested?” 
“No, I—” 
“I’m not some backup plan, Azirel. What, no one else available tonight? Did you happen to round on the Archeron sisters as well? I’m last again, right?” 
As the words spewed from your mouth, you knew you would come to regret them. Azriel looked more and more confused and affronted at each accusation you made, but this was easier than crying and professing your love. Azriel had said no strings attached, and if you couldn’t avoid love, he would have to deal with anger. That was an easier string to sever.
“We’re stopping this, if that wasn’t obvious.” 
Azriel’s breath seemed to escape his lungs in one fell swoop. He took a step forward and shook his head. “Is this about that night at Rita’s? Y/n, I would never have—” 
“No, you said no strings, right?” you bit out. “So you’re allowed to do whatever and whoever you want. This has nothing to do with that. I’m just… I’m just done.”
Gods, you weren’t making sense. Why had he kissed you when he walked in? You felt like you were going to cry and that was not something you wanted to do in front of him. “Okay, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Azriel almost begged. He looked ruined and so tired. “We can go back to how it was before.” The prospect seemed to pain him. “Just—tell me how to fix this between us. I can’t… lose you. Not to this.” 
“There’s nothing to fix,” you lied. “Let’s just—let’s just stop.” 
“Okay. Okay, we can stop and—” 
“And you need to get out.” 
Azriel blinked at you, brows furrowed. “But we still—Y/n, I want to talk about this.” 
There was an incongruence in the way he was looking at you. If it had just been about sex, this would have been simple, clean. For you, it would have hurt, but for Azriel, it would have been a small variable being removed. But he was looking at you as if the world was ending, and you couldn't comprehend that. 
He had been holding another woman earlier this week. 
His hands twitched now. 
He needed to leave before you cried.
“Get out, Azriel.”
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seungfl0wer · 3 days ago
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*Daddy Chan*
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Daddy Series:
Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin
Contains Smut:
A/N: I could have kept going with this and yes it’s already long. But like- Chans the definition of this series ok? 😂
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-💜
•He’s just in his element.
•If any of them have a daddy thing it’s 100% him.
•He treats you like a princess.
•Spoils the fuck out of you.
•Gets grumpy when you try and pay for anything because how dare you.
•He’s such a gentleman.
•You’ll never have to open your own doors.
•He enjoys taking long showers together and after
•He loves having you sit infront of him brushing your hair for you.
•Matching outfits, matching jewelry.
•He’s so easy to talk to too.
•If you’re having a bad day, you know you can just curl up with him and cry.
•He’s great at consoling you when anything happens.
•Holding you tightly to him as he reminds you about how amazing you are.
•He’s super clingy honestly.
•If you’re with him he’s always gotta be touching you in some way.
•Hand holding, Legs touching. Something.
•You keep him more grounded than you probably know.
•He finds almost anything you do super cute.
•Oh this man just gets all cheesy when you’re pouting. Finds it so fucking cute.
•Definitely doesn’t have a whole folder of songs for your birthday or anniversary.
•You’re literally like a fire to him and he’s the moth.
•It’s really hard to ever really really upset him.
•He’s pretty level headed.
•Most days if you’re being grumpy or cranky he’ll sit with you asking what’s the matter and how he can help.
•If you’re giving him attitude almost always he can make you stop with just that look.
•He has the habit of telling you way to sweetly “fix your attitude princess or I’ll have to fix it for you. Be good for daddy”
•He’s really to soft, but when he needs to be stern he does it in a way that still makes you feel so safe.
•He’s really just a safe space. You’ll never feel like your emotions are too much with him.
•He constantly will reassure you.
•He sends you such loving messages too, long paragraphs of why he loves you.
•Never not having a good morning or good night text. Even if you just got off the phone.
•It feels like taboo to him not too.
•He’s not a super jealous type, but he’s protective.
•He knows you love him so much, your eyes never leaving his.
•But how can he trust others when you’re just so cute.
•He’ll hover over you when you’re out sometimes. Like he’s waiting. Ready to attack anyone who dares upset him princess.
•Constantly hugs yous tightly burring himself into you saying “mine” cutely.
•He’s really just wrapped around your finger and he’s fine with that.
ੈ♡˳Smut Below
•He has almost 2 personality’s.
•The super sweet loving one where he wants to take it so slow.
•He’ll eat you out for hours making sure you cum before you even fuck.
•He talks so much. He talks you through it 100%.
•He makes just as much noises as you do tbh.
•He’s a missionary lover for sure.
•Always wanting to see your pretty face. Plus how else is he gonna kiss you?
•He’s just so sensual and passionate.
•Other times he- can just lose himself.
•Stressful day? He’s having you on your knees while he face fucks you.
•He’s definitely into free use with you especially waking you up with head or his dick just slowly pushing into you.
•All with complete consent. He’ll never do anything without asking you prier and establishing boundaries.
•Has a safe word and does the color system.
•He can get ahead of himself sometimes. Losing it with you.
•Pushing your face into the bed fucking you like he hates you.
•Those beautiful hands of his leaving bright red hand prints on your ass.
•Or wrapped around your neck like a choker. He also really enjoys having you suck his fingers.
•Breeding kink. Breeding kink. Breeding kink.
•He’s also somehow so good at degrading you while making it sound so- sweet?
•”My dirty little princess, you’re soaked just from kissing?”
•He has one of those machines that can fuck you while he’s not home. And of course a custom made dildo that is a mold of his cock.
•Loves FaceTiming you while on tour guiding you through your orgasm.
•Always teases you and doesn’t let you cum at first. Not until you’re begging well enough.
•This man is also team remote vibe.
•He just thinks it’s so damn adorable watching you squirm while you’re out.
•He’s not much better though. He can’t keep his hands to himself.
•Could be having dinner out and he’s gonna be knuckles deep into your sopping hole till he can’t handle it.
•100%. Fucks you infront of mirrors. Not only so you can watch how well he fucks you.
•But so he can tell you things like “look how beautiful you are when you’re cumming around my cock”
•Like I said he’s definitely a talker so something’s he says are:
•”Daddy’s gonna fill you so full princess. I’m gonna fuck you till I know you’re pregnant.”
•”Don’t you run from me, I’m not done with you yet”
•”God it’s like you were made to take my cock princess.”
•”Daddy loves you, love you so fucking much.”
•And one of his favorites “you say you can’t take it anymore but you’re pretty hole is telling me she wants more”
•King of aftercare.
•On days he goes a little harder he’s making sure you know he loves you.
•He has you wrapped in his arms while he talks to you.
•Likes to sing to you to calm you down from intense orgasms.
•Warm baths with candles, and snacks.
•Kinda like Minho he puts one of his hoodies in the dryer for you.
•Making sure it smells like him before he wraps you in the warmth.
•You’re basically trapped for a while because he just wants to hold you.
•He really loves you and he wants to make sure you always know that.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵
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Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget @0omillo0 @jellymochii @stilltrynafuckingtumble @catlove83 @delulkpopstan143 @hyunjins-orange-slice-too
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nerdlvr · 3 days ago
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✩ tired? just a little.
(MDNI)
smut , mark lee x reader , established relationship , lazy sex , mark is in a suit , reader is like a stay at home girlfriend , riding/cowgirl , couch sex , marks a little bossy , lots of pet names , no condom , creampie , cumming quickly , requested here! , lmk if i missed anything
"hey beautiful, you waited for me?" the door clicked softly behind him, the soft jingle of his keys making your eyes flutter open.
you stretched you arms up, a loud whine leaving your lips, "missed you markie."
he chuckled softly as he shuffled towards you, hands tugging at the knot of his tie, "missed you more angel."
you tilted your head back on the couch to look at the tall man behind you, his eyes swollen with exhaustion.
he still managed to smile widely as he looked down at you, his hands coming down to hold your face, "thought about you all day."
he leaned down slowly, lips softly pressing against yours in a kiss.
you couldn't help the giggles that escaped you lips, his nose tickling the bottom of your chin as he pressed into you harder.
"what's wrong?" he leaned back slightly to stare at your upside down face.
you grinned wide, bringing a hand up to scratch your chin, "tickles."
he chuckled softly, crouching slightly to plant a kiss on your forehead, "silly girl- i'm gonna go get changed."
you reached for his arm as he turned away, tugging slightly to pull him towards you, "let me help you?"
he walked around the couch, sitting on the soft cushions with a low grunt, his legs spreading slightly as he leaned back, "alright then, help me undress- go on baby."
you shuffled onto your knees, leaning forward quickly to work on his tie. your fingers were quick, undoing the knot almost out of habit from many of his tired nights.
he moved his hands up to pull his loose tie off, your focus now on the small buttons on his shirt. you fumbled against his ironed top, your freshly done nails clashing against the buttons.
"let me-" he quickly undid his buttons, resting his arms back on the couch as he let you continue.
you blushed slightly, his chest now on full display as you pulled his tucked shirt out of his slacks.
his breath hitched as your hands reached for his belt, your soft hands lightly grazing his bulge as you worked against the buckle.
the image of you was borderline pornographic, your ass poked out, wiggling gently as your breasts rested on his thigh lazily, your hands pulling at his belt.
he reached his hand forward, sliding it along the length of you spine, watching as you shivered softly, a quiet breath leaving your lips, "mark-"
"keep going baby- you're not done yet." his hand moved further down your body to rub against your ass, sneakily running them under your tiny pajama shorts.
your breath was shaky as you dropped his belt to the floor, your hands moving instinctively towards the button of his pants, "oh my-" you pressed yourself deeper against his lap, moving your ass against his hand as you felt his fingers dip past your panties.
"need you to ride me princess- you like the sound of that hm?"
your whine was enough of a response, his hands moving away from your core to help you undo his pants instead.
you leaned back on your knees as you watched him unzip his pants, lazily tugging them down only enough to release his aching length.
"be good and sit on it."
he chuckled as you scrambled to get on top of him, too impatient to take your shorts off. you reached down to pull the fabric to the side, your core already wet from his light touches.
you pressed your entrance against the tip of his length, both of you moaning softly as you sunk down.
"o-oh mark." your head fell against his shoulder as you bottomed out, soft gasps leaving your lips as you rocked against him slightly.
he let out a loud groan, head dropping back against the couch as he let his eyes fall shut, "fuckk- ride this dick angel- come on-"
you lifted your hips slightly, only to press your hips back against his quickly. "m-mnh- feels so good- ah." you leaned forward, resting your weight on your knees as you held onto his shoulders for support.
you lifted your hips, starting a slow bouncing motion against his length. he was deep inside of you, his length sliding against your warm walls as you rode him languidly.
he lifted his head to look at you, his eyes dark as he watched your flushed face, your lip pulled tightly in between your teeth.
"just like that mama, riding me so good- keep going- i got you-" his hands moved down to grab your ass, guiding you slowly against his cock.
"m-mark, 'm gonna cum baby." you ducked your head, blushing in embarrassment as your soft pants warmed his chest.
"so soon? like me that much hm?" he grinned lazily as you nodded, soft whines leaving your lips as you began to rock your hips messily.
"it's okay baby- easyy- let go for me-"
you bit your lip harder to hide your pathetic moans, you eyes squeezing shut as your hips stilled against his, your body twitching softly as you came undone.
"m-mark-" you let out a breath as you sunk back down onto him, your core clenching tightly around him.
"stay still- let me fuck you-" he gripped onto your waist, lifting you slightly before bringing his hips up to meet yours.
you moaned softly, hands gripping the back of the couch as you remained steady, letting him use you as he pleased.
"f-fuck keep squeezing me like that baby- gonna cum in this tight little pussy-" he groaned against your neck, his hips rutting against your quickly as he chased his own orgasm.
"mark want you so bad- please-" you gasped softly as you felt him spill into you, his fingers bruising the skin of your waist as he pressed you flush against his hips.
"fu-fuckk baby-" he melted into the couch, hips stuttering against yours as you lifted your hips slightly to release him.
he was quick to stop you, arms wrapping around your waist to keep you in place, "d-don't go- i'm- i'm gonna faint- just let me-"
you giggled as you relaxed back into his lap, his length growing soft inside of you as you laid your head on his shoulder, "ten minute power nap before we shower?"
his voice was low, eyes already fluttering shut, "deal."
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littleprinces · 2 days ago
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Dirty Little Secret
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Miyawaki Sakura x Male Reader
Stepcest
Anal Sex
I'd been sneaking into the house next door for weeks now, my cock aching for Sakura, my stepsister. She was a petite Japanese girl, her brown hair cascading down to her waist, her almond-shaped eyes always curious and inviting. At 26, she was a legal temptation, and I couldn't resist her any longer.
One evening, I found her in the bathroom, soaking in the tub. Her eyes widened in surprise, then a sly smile spread across her lips. "You shouldn't be here, big brother," she teased, her voice like silk.
"I couldn't stay away, Sakura," I growled, my cock already tenting my pants. "You're fucking irresistible."
She bit her lower lip, her eyes flicking to my bulge. "What are you going to do about it?"
I didn't need to be told twice. I was on my knees beside the tub in an instant, my hands cupping her small, firm breasts. Her nipples hardened under my touch, and she gasped, her back arching slightly.
"Fuck, Sakura, you're so goddamn sexy," I muttered, my thumbs brushing over her nipples. She moaned, her head tilting back, giving me access to her neck. I took the invitation, my lips and tongue exploring her soft skin, my hands never leaving her perky tits.
Her hands found their way into my hair, guiding me, encouraging me. I moved lower, my hands trailing down her sides, her stomach, until I reached her pussy. She was shaved, her lips smooth and inviting. I ran a finger along her slit, feeling her wetness.
"Oh, fuck shithh" she moaned, her hips bucking slightly. "More, please."
I obliged, slipping a finger inside her. She was tight, her pussy gripping my finger like a vice. I added another, scissoring them, stretching her. She moaned louder, her hips moving in rhythm with my fingers.
"Fuck me, big brother," she panted. "I need your cock."
I stood, unbuckling my pants, freeing my cock. It sprang out, hard and ready. She reached out, her small hand wrapping around my shaft. She stroked me, her thumb brushing over the head, spreading the pre-cum.
"Fuck, Sakura," I groaned. "You're going to make me cum."
She smiled, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. "Not yet," she said, her voice sultry. "I want you to fuck me first."
I didn't need to be told twice. I grabbed her hips, lifting her out of the tub. She wrapped her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck. I lowered her onto my cock, her pussy stretching to accommodate me.
"Fuck, you're so big," she moaned, her head thrown back. "Fuck me, big brother. Fuck me hard."
I did as I was told, slamming into her, my hips moving in a steady rhythm. The sound of our bodies slapping together filled the bathroom, our moans and groans mixing with it. She was tight, her pussy gripping my cock like a glove.
"Harder," she panted, her nails digging into my back. "Fuck me harder."
I obliged, my thrusts becoming more forceful. She moaned louder, her body tensing as she came, her pussy contracting around my cock. I kept fucking her, my cock sliding in and out of her wet pussy.
"Turn around," I growled, pulling out of her. "I want to fuck your ass."
She complied, turning around and bending over the tub. I ran a finger over her asshole, feeling her shiver. I spit on my finger, rubbing it over her hole, preparing her. She moaned, pushing back against my finger.
"Fuck me, big brother," she begged. "Fuck my ass. Make my ass yours"
I replaced my finger with my cock, pushing into her asshole. She was tight, her ass gripping my cock like a vice. I pushed in slowly, giving her time to adjust. She moaned, her body tensing, then relaxing as I bottomed out.
"Fuck, Sakura," I groaned. "Your ass is so fucking tight."
I started to move, my hips thrusting slowly at first, then faster as she moaned louder. I reached around, my fingers finding her clit. I rubbed it, my fingers moving in time with my thrusts. She moaned louder, her body tensing as she came again.
"Cum in my ass, big brother," she panted. "Breed my ass."
I couldn't hold back any longer. I came, my cock pulsing as I filled her ass with my cum. I pulled out, my cock still hard. She turned around, her eyes on my cock.
"Clean me up," I ordered, my voice hoarse.
She dropped to her knees, her tongue darting out to lick my cock clean. She took me into her mouth, her lips and tongue working in tandem to clean every last drop of cum from my cock.
"Fuck, Sakura," I groaned, my hands fisting her hair. "You're so fucking good at that."
She pulled back, her eyes meeting mine. "I want more."
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nottsangel · 2 days ago
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EIGHTEEN. oral threesome — mattheodore
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warnings — smut 18+. oral sex (m. receiving). bisexual mattheo and theo. dom!reader.
kinkmas mlist. more.
“just relax.” you whisper, dropping down to your knees in front of your best friends after a drunken night of watching movies together. their puzzled eyes widen as they closely follow your movements, anticipation coursing through their stiffened bodies. it is obvious they both want you— but you know a little more than just that.
“are we, like, really gonna do this?” mattheo questions, one brow raised as you settle onto your knees, palming their erections over their tight pants and eliciting groans from both boys. their intoxicated state fuels their desire as they gaze down at you with hungry, darkened eyes, causing you to feel a tingle in your stomach under their intense attention on you.
“shut up, please. don’t ruin the moment.” theo impatiently hisses through his teeth, his ocean-blue eyes not leaving you once, as you free both boys from their pants and boxers, the fabric pooling around their ankles. their erections spring up against their abs, slick precum glistening at the tips.
“it’s that easy to make you guys hard, huh?” you chuckle, eyeing their painfully hard cocks that are practically begging for your touch. you immediately notice that theo is slightly bigger than mattheo— but mattheo definitely makes up for it in girth.
“gonna make my boys feel so fucking good.” you murmur as you quickly wrap your lips around mattheo first while simultaneously pumping theo’s cock at a fast pace, making both of them hiss at the sudden sensation, nearly drooling at the sight in front of them.
you feel your best friends melt under your touch, their hands desperately gripping the couch as they savour each second, lost in sheer pleasure— but then you suddenly you come to a halt, letting go of theo and pulling away from mattheo’s cock with a pop.
“i want you two to kiss.” you abruptly order, causing their half-lidded eyes to quickly widen in surprise, both of them unable to speak from pure shock as you impatiently stare at them with one brow raised.
“want me to continue? then kiss.” they’re hesitant at first, but when your hands wrap around their cocks again and start to slowly jerk them off, they seem to become too clouded by the pleasure and yearning for more to even care at this point.
as expected, mattheo is the first to initiate contact, as his hand roughly slides to theo’s neck and pulls him closer, reluctantly yet eagerly pressing his lips against theo’s. theo surprisingly returns the kiss, as he slips his tongue inside mattheo’s mouth, their movements more frantic and eager with each passing second.
“mhm… that’s it.” you murmur, a satisfied smirk appearing on your face as you move on to theo, your glossed lips wrapping around his aching cock before quickly bobbing your head up and down at a fast pace, your hand rhythmically pumping mattheo at the same time.
both of them are so lost in their own world, lips still attached to each other as they hungrily touch one another, the passion in their kiss so intense and urgent that you begin to fade away in the background, merely there as a prop. your eyes remain locked on the boys as sighs and moans echo throughout the room, the hunger and longing for one another overtaking them both.
finally, you think to yourself. watching them kiss so passionately, so intensely, fills you with satisfaction. you were well aware they had a thing for each other; it was more than obvious to you. all they needed was just a little push— and today, you finally gave that to them.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡
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harrysfolklore · 20 hours ago
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secret - cs55
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summary: carlos has been keeping his relationship secret for 6 months. the world has no idea that he's dating an a list actress
wc: 5.4k words + social media posts. face claim: emilia clarke
folkie radio: guys... why does it feel illegal to post a carlos fic that's not little bitch?? anyway i hope you like this LEAVE FEEDBACK !
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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liked by carlossainz55, zendaya and 2,445,805 others
yourinstagram Spain, you have my heart ❤️
view all 16,333 comments
username1 QUEEN
username2 she’s glowiiiing
arianagrande mother 🤎
username3 imagine being the highest paid actress in hollywood looking like that i wouldn’t take shit from anybody
florencepugh you’re the actual loml
↳ yourinstagram Love you baby flo
username4 single yn is glowing
username5 spain also has my heart but i’ve never been there i’m just obsessed with carlos sainz
username6 carlos sainz in the likes wbk he’s a fan since the first season of game of thrones
anasainzvdec 💓💓
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourinstagram and 1,570,487 others
carlossainz55 Short break before heading to Silverstone 🇬🇧
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username1 HOTTEST MAN ALIVE
username2 carlos don’t do this to my ovaries
scuderiaferrari 🌶️🌶️
username3 if he is single who is taking all this boyfriend content
username4 THATS A HUSBAND
blancasainzv 🙌🙌🙌
username5 CARLOS LET ME JUMP ON YOUR BONES
username6 it’s a crime that this man is single looking like this (not really)
landonorris A family man
↳ georgerussell63 😂😂😂
↳ username1 carlando forever
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
You stand in front of the mirror, applying the last touches of makeup as sunlight streams through the bedroom window. The reflection shows Carlos lounging on the bed behind you, his dark eyes following your every move. You can't help but smile, feeling the warmth of his gaze.
As you prepare to leave, your mind wanders to the whirlwind romance of the past six months. It all started with a tweet- Carlos expressing his admiration for your character in Game of Thrones. You hadn't known much about Formula 1 then, but his charm and genuine enthusiasm caught your attention.
Fate brought you together at a high-profile fashion event months later. You remember how your heart raced when he approached you, confidently asking for your number. Within days, he'd asked you out on a proper date.
Now, six months later, you're living in a blissful bubble of secrecy. Neither his fellow drivers nor your co-stars have any idea about your relationship. It's a mutual decision - you're both in the spotlight, and this connection feels too important to expose to the world's scrutiny just yet.
You've just returned from a short trip to Spain, where Carlos introduced you to his family. The warmth of their welcome still lingers, making you feel even more connected to him. His parents had embraced you immediately, and you'd spent hours laughing and sharing stories with his sisters. The trip reinforced the feeling that you truly belonged in Carlos' life.
"Do you really have to leave?" Carlos asks, his Spanish accent more pronounced in his sleepy state.
"You know I do, darling. This film isn't going to shoot itself," you turn to face him, taking in his tousled hair and bare chest.
Carlos props himself up on his elbows, a playful smirk on his lips. "But I can think of so many better ways to spend the day."
You walk over to the bed, leaning down to place a soft kiss on his lips. "Tempting, but I've got to go. We can't all race cars for a living, you know."
His hand catches yours as you start to pull away. "Just five more minutes?" he pleads, pulling you closer.
You allow yourself to be drawn in, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You're impossible," you say, but there's no real frustration in your voice.
"Impossible to resist, you mean," Carlos wraps an arm around your waist, nuzzling into your neck.
"That too," you laugh, running your fingers through his hair. "But seriously, I need to leave soon."
He sighs dramatically, flopping back onto the pillows. "Fine, fine. Go be a famous actress. Leave me here all alone."
"Drama queen," you roll your eyes, standing up. "You've got meetings later anyway."
As you gather your things, Carlos watches you with a mix of admiration and affection.
"You know," he says softly, "sometimes I still can't believe this is real. Us, I mean."
"It's real," you assure him, with a small smile, "And it's ours."
"I guess my obsession with Daenerys Targaryen paid off," Carlos grins, sitting up, "Though I have to say, the real you is even better than any character."
"Smooth talker. No wonder I fell for you so quickly," you roll your eyes playfully as you walk over to the bed, cupping his face in your hands. "As tempting as that is, love, we both have responsibilities. But tonight, it's just us."
He leans into your touch, then pulls you down for a deep kiss. When you part, both slightly breathless, he whispers, "I can't wait."
With a final blown kiss, you slip out of the room, your heart full and a smile on your lips. Another day of keeping your relationship under wraps begins, but you wouldn't have it any other way. Your mind is already counting down the hours until you can be in his arms again, safe in your private world built for two.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
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liked by username1, username2 and 19,836 others
ynupdates YN arriving for filming today in London!
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username1 MY BUBBB
username2 why so serious
username3 she has a movie premiering in two months and she’s already filming another talk about an icon
username4 love the fitttt
username5 streets say she’s got a boyfriend now 👀
↳ username1 source: trust me bro
↳ username2 SPILL THE DEETS
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
You sink into the plush couch in Carlos' living room, the aroma of your favorite pasta filling the air. This has become your ritual - intimate dinners at home, safe from prying eyes and camera flashes. Sometimes you cook together, but tonight you've ordered in from that little Italian place Carlos adores.
"This is perfect," you sigh contentedly as Carlos settles beside you, two plates balanced in his hands. "I'll take nosy neighbors over paparazzi any day."
"Agreed," Carlos chuckles, handing you your plate, "Though I'm pretty sure my neighbor thinks I've developed an unhealthy obsession with takeout."
"Little do they know you're just obsessed with me," you lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
"Guilty as charged," he grins, pulling you closer.
As you eat, you share stories about your day. Carlos absently traces patterns on your knee, and you find yourself melting into his touch.
"Oh," you say, remembering suddenly. "My team suggested something interesting today."
"What would that be, amor?" Carlos raises an eyebrow, intrigued.
You take a sip of wine before answering. "They think it would be a good idea for me to attend the Silverstone Grand Prix."
For obvious reasons, you haven't been able to join Carlos for a race since your relationship began. The need for secrecy and your busy schedules have kept you from sharing this crucial part of his life.
So when your team suggested you should attend the British Grand Prix at Silverstone to promote your new movie, you felt a surge of excitement. The prospect of finally seeing Carlos in his element, even if you had to pretend not to know each other, made you giddy.
"Really? That's... wow," Carlos said, his eyes twinkling.
"Don't get too excited," you nudge him playfully. "We'll have to pretend we barely know each other, you know."
Carlos groans dramatically, flopping back against the couch. "You mean I can't sweep you off your feet in front of thousands of fans? How will I cope?"
You laugh, setting your plate aside to cuddle closer to him. "I'm sure you'll manage. Just think of it as acting practice for both of us."
He wraps an arm around you, his voice growing softer. "You know, I always imagined the first race you'd attend would be as my girlfriend. With everyone knowing how lucky I am."
"I know, love," your heart swells at his words. "But hey, we'll still be together, even if no one else knows it."
Carlos nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You're right. And I am happy you'll be there. Even if I have to pretend I'm not crazy about you."
"Well, there's no pretending now," you look up at him, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Show me just how crazy about me you are."
With a playful growl, Carlos pulls you onto his lap, dinner forgotten as his lips find yours. In moments like these, the secrecy feels worth it - these moments are yours alone, untouched by the outside world.
As you break apart, slightly breathless, Carlos murmurs against your lips, "Maybe we can sneak a moment at Silverstone. A secret rendezvous in the paddock?"
"Now that would make headlines", you laugh, running your fingers through his hair. "'Famous actress and F1 star caught canoodling behind the garages.'"
"Worth it," Carlos grins, pulling you in for another kiss.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
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liked by yourinstagram, charles_leclerc and 1,836,426 others
carlossainz55 Beyond excited for Silverstone this weekend. Let’s do this 🙌
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username1 MY MAN
username2 he’s really the hottest man alive
scuderiaferrari We got this 😌
username3 SILVERSTONE MORE LIKE CARLOSTONE
username4 manifesting another silverstone win
username5 my girl yn in the likes she’s so real
landonorris 🥵🥵🥵🥵
↳ username1 these two being single right now just means they get to be menaces
↳ carlossainz55 Weird
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
The early morning light filters through the curtains of your bedroom as you help Carlos adjust his red Ferrari hoodie. Your fingers linger on his shoulders, savoring these last private moments before the chaos of race day begins.
"Remember," you tease, smoothing down his collar, "hands to yourself out there, Sainz."
"That might be a challenge, amor," Carlos grins, his eyes sparkling, "Especially with you wearing my number."
You playfully swat his arm, adjusting the Ferrari cap with Carlos' number that sits atop your head. "I mean it. We've managed to keep this under wraps for six months. Let's not blow our cover now."
"Fine, fine," he pulls you close, nuzzling your neck, "But you owe me for this torture."
"Torture, is it?" you laugh, tilting your head to give him better access. "Such a dramatic driver I've fallen for."
"In all honesty," Carlos pulls back, his expression suddenly serious, "I wish I could shout it from the podium today. That I'm the luckiest man in the world because I have you."
"Soon," you promise, cupping his face. "For now, let's enjoy our little secret."
With a final, lingering kiss, Carlos reluctantly steps away. "I'd better go. See you out there, amor."
"Go get 'em, tiger."
Hours later, you arrive at the circuit, your stomach fluttering with nerves. The Ferrari cap with Carlos' number feels like a subtle declaration, a secret sign that only you and Carlos truly understand.
"We'll start with Ferrari," your manager explains. "Given your... interest in the team."
You nod, fighting to keep your expression neutral. If only she knew the real reason for your interest.
As you approach the Ferrari garage, you spot Charles Leclerc first. Carlos had told you stories about his teammate before – his skill on the track, his competitive nature, and his charming personality. Now, seeing him in person, you understand why he's such a fan favorite.
Charles notices you approaching and breaks into a warm smile. He steps forward, extending his hand. "Hello there! I'm Charles Leclerc. Big fan."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Charles," you shake his hand, returning the smile. "I've heard great things about you."
"All good, I hope," he chuckles. "Is this your first time at a Grand Prix?"
"It is! I'm thrilled to be here. The energy is incredible already."
"Oh, just wait until the race starts. There's nothing quite like it." He pauses, then adds, "Have you met my teammate yet? He's around here somewhere..."
As if on cue, you hear a familiar voice behind you. "Did someone mention me?"
Your heart skips a beat as Carlos approaches and it takes every ounce of your acting skills to keep your expression neutral as he extends his hand.
"Carlos Sainz," he introduces himself, a cocky smirk on his lips, "Welcome to our garage."
As you shake his hand, you're hyper-aware of every point of contact. This man knows every inch of you, has held you countless times, yet here you are, pretending to be strangers. It's thrilling and frustrating all at once.
"It's great to meet you both," you manage to say, proud of how steady your voice sounds. "I can't wait to see you race."
"Well I hope we make a good first impression," Carlos said, and the look in his eyes told you that it was taking everything in him to keep his hands away from you.
"Carlos is being modest," Charles chimes in. "He's had some of his best performances here. You might be in for a treat today."
You raise an eyebrow, glancing at Carlos. "Is that so? Well, now I'm even more excited to watch."
Carlos rubs the back of his neck, a gesture you know is partly genuine modesty and partly an act. "Charles exaggerates. But I'll do my best to put on a good show for you- I mean, for all the fans."
"I'm sure you both will," you say, including Charles in your gaze to avoid suspicion.
A crew member approaches, informing Carlos and Charles that they're needed for a pre-race briefing shortly, and at the same time, a photographer appears asking for a picture. You pose with Charles first and shortly after Carlos stands next to you, his hand almost squeezing your waist sending shivers down your spine.
After the photo, you reluctantly step away. "I should let you get to your briefing. Good luck in the race, gentlemen!"
As you walk away, Charles say to Carlos, "She's gorgeous, isn't she?"
Carlos feels a sudden pang of jealousy, fighting the urge to declare that you're his. Instead, he replies with a smug tone, "She certainly is. But remember, we're here to race, not to admire the guests."
You make your way to the McLaren garage, where you're introduced to Lando Norris, Carlos' best friend. Lando's infectious energy has you laughing within minutes. You can see why he and Carlos get along so well, and you find yourself wishing you could share stories about your boyfriend with his best friend.
As you're about to leave the McLaren garage, your phone buzzes with a text from Carlos.
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Against your better judgment, you find yourself making excuses to your team and heading towards Carlos' driver's room. You slip inside, closing the door behind you and praying no one saw you.
Carlos is there in an instant, pulling you into his arms. "Dios mio, do you know how hard it was to keep my hands off you out there?"
"Behave yourself, Sainz," you laugh, melting into his embrace, "We have an image to maintain."
"Oh? And what image is that?" he pulls back, his eyes twinkling, "Because right now, all I can think about is how adorable you look in my cap."
"Flatterer," you tease, running your hands up his chest, admiring how the race suit fits him. "You don't look so bad yourself in this. First time I'm seeing it in person, you know."
Carlos grins, leaning in to brush his lips against yours. "Like what you see?"
"Maybe," you say coyly, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "But shouldn't you be focusing on the race?"
"You're killing me, hermosa," he groans dramatically, pulling you back against him, "How am I supposed to focus on driving when all I can think about is you?"
"Well," you suggest, "Maybe you need some motivation. Win the race, and I'll give you a proper celebration later."
"Now that's what I call incentive," he pecked your lips, and suddenly his eyes light up with an idea. He reaches for his phone. "Wait, I need a picture of you in that cap. My good luck charm."
You roll your eyes but pose anyway, tilting the cap at a jaunty angle. Carlos snaps the photo, grinning widely.
"Perfect," he says, showing you the result. "This is going to be my new favorite picture."
You're about to reply when a knock at the door makes you both freeze. "Carlos? Are you in there? Last pre-race briefing in two minutes," comes a voice from outside.
You stifle a giggle as Carlos calls back, "Be right there!"
He turns back to you, stealing one last passionate kiss before reluctantly stepping away. "This isn't over," he promises.
"I should hope not," you tease, straightening his collar. "Now go out there and make me proud."
As Carlos heads for the door, he pauses, looking back at you with a soft smile. "Te amo, YN."
"I love you too. Now go be the champion I know you are."
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f1world THESE TWO 🥹🥹🙌
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username1 AHHH THEY LOOK SO CUTE
username2 i bet carlos’ fanboy ass was shaking
username3 they look so good together hello????
username4 not yn zendaya-ing
username5 HER SMILE
username6 love them so much they should date
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liked by carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari and 3,012,368 others
yourinstagram SILVERSTONE. In another life I was a F1 driver. Yesterday I got to hang out with real ones and their pretty pretty cars. And I did not play it cool 😌
view all 36,836 comments
username1 AHHHH ICON
username2 QUEEN OF THE PADDOCK
username3 she should go to every gp idc
scuderiaferarri You’re welcome anytime 🙌
username4 “got to hang out with real ones” and just posts carlos
username5 WHERE IS MY LANDO X YN PIC
emmacorrin 😍😍😍😍
username6 CARLOSYN YES
charles_leclerc Lovely to meet you 😘
↳ username1 and she didn’t post him help
carlossainz55 An absolute pleasure to chat with you 😉
↳ yourinstagram Likewise !
↳ username2 DATE
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liked by landonorris, yourinstagram and 1,289,300 others
carlossainz55 Triple header done, time to recharge and come back stronger in Hungary! 💪🏻
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username1 CHILIIIIII
username2 of course he was going to post his pic with yn he's such a fanboy
username3 ICONS IN THE THIRD PIC
scuderiaferrari Always the Smooth Operator 🌶️
username4 YN'S FACE IN THE THIRD PIC
username5 i ship carlos and yn
username6 i like the british gp bc actual cool celebrities attend not like the miami gp
yourinstagram Amazing weekend ❤️
↳ username1 HELLOOOOOO
deuxmoi has added to their stories
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───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
After the excitement of Silverstone, reality had set in quickly. You had to fly to Switzerland for your latest film project, while Carlos was called to Maranello for team duties. The goodbye had been bittersweet.
Now, a week later, you're on set in Switzerland, immersed in the world of your latest film. The day has been long, filled with intense scenes and multiple takes. As you trudge back to your trailer, your mind wanders to your boyfriend, wishing you could share the day's triumphs and frustrations with him, but he was miles away.
You open the trailer door, lost in thought, and nearly jump out of your skin when you see a figure inside. Your heart rate skyrockets, then immediately settles as you recognize the familiar silhouette.
"Carlos?" you whisper, a mix of shock and joy coursing through you. "What are you doing here?"
He turns, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Surprise, baby!"
You rush into his arms, all exhaustion forgotten as he envelops you in a warm embrace. The familiar scent of his cologne wraps around you, and you feel the tension in your body melt away.
But as quickly as the joy comes, worry follows. You pull back slightly, glancing nervously at the door. "Carlos, how did you even get in here what if someone sees you? We can't risk-"
He silences your concerns with a gentle kiss. "Relax, amor. I was careful. No one saw me come in."
Despite your worries, you can't help but lean into him again, savoring the feeling of being in his arms after a week apart.
"I've missed you," you murmur against his chest.
"I've missed you too," he replies, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back, "It's like I'm addicted to you, I can't be apart from you for too long."
You look up at him, taking in the warmth in his brown eyes, the slight stubble on his jaw that you love to trace with your fingers. The realization of how much you've missed him hits you all at once, and you pull him down for a deeper kiss.
When you part, both slightly breathless, you can't help but laugh softly. "This is crazy, you know. What if my co-stars come knocking?"
"Then I'll hide in the closet like a teenager sneaking around. It'll be exciting."
He shrugged and you playfully swat his arm, but you can't deny the thrill of having him here, in your space, surrounded by the world of your work.
"How long can you stay?" you ask, hoping against hope that it's more than just a fleeting visit.
"I have to leave early tomorrow," he says, a hint of regret in his voice, "I know it's not much time together but I really needed to see you, kiss you, just be with you."
"I have to go back to filming now," you say reluctantly. "But I'll be done in a few hours."
Carlos nods understandingly. "Go, cariño. I'll wait here in your trailer. Maybe I'll raid your snack stash," he adds with a playful wink.
You laugh, giving him one last quick kiss before heading out. "Behave yourself, Sainz."
The rest of your filming flies by, your spirits lifted by the knowledge that Carlos is waiting for you. As soon as the director calls wrap, you hurry back to your trailer, your heart racing with anticipation.
Carlos is lounging on your small couch when you return, scrolling through his phone. He looks up as you enter, his face breaking into a warm smile. "There's my star."
You collapse into his arms, sighing contentedly. "I still can't believe you're here."
After a few moments of just holding each other, you both decide it's time to head to your hotel. You peek out of the trailer, checking if the coast is clear.
"Okay, I think we're good," you whisper, grabbing Carlos' hand and making a dash for it.
You weave between trailers and equipment, your hearts pounding with a mix of excitement and nervousness. Just as you're about to round the final corner to the parking lot, you spot a crew member heading your way.
"Quick, behind here," Carlos whispers urgently, pulling you behind a large lighting rig.
You both hold your breath as the crew member passes by, mere feet from your hiding spot. Once they're gone, you share a look of relief and almost burst out laughing at the same time. The situation was definitely comic.
As you make your final dash to your car, you hear a surprised voice calling your name from behind you. Turning slightly, you see one of the production assistants, their eyes wide with surprise as they take in the sight of you and Carlos hand-in-hand.
Without stopping, you give a quick wave and a "Goodnight!" before practically diving into your car. Carlos follows suit, and you peel out of the parking lot perhaps a bit faster than necessary. Thank god you're not the race car driver in the relationship.
Once you're on the road, you let out a long breath. "Well, that was close,"
"It's okay, amor," Carlos reaches over to squeeze your hand reassuringly, "Even if they saw us, it doesn't have to mean anything."
"But what if they start asking questions?" you glance at him, unconvinced, "Or worse, what if they tell someone? Deuxmoi is already onto us after Silverstone, what if someone tips them?"
"I still don't understand what Deuxmoi is," Carlos looked at you with confusion, which made you laugh, "But we'll deal with it. Remember, we haven't done anything wrong. We're just two people who care about each other."
You nod, trying to let his words calm you. "I know, I know. It's just... I'm not ready for the world to know yet. To have our relationship picked apart and speculated about."
Carlos brings your hand to his lips, kissing it softly. "I understand. And we'll do everything we can to keep our privacy."
"Okay," you agree, offering him a small smile. "Thank you for always knowing how to calm me down."
"It's because I love you," Carlos says simply, his eyes warm as they meet yours at a stoplight.
The rest of the drive passes in comfortable conversation. By the time you reach the hotel, you're feeling much more relaxed, ready to enjoy your time together.
As you park the car, Carlos turns to you with a mischievous grin. "Now, shall we make another escape to your room, or do you think we can manage to walk in like normal people this time?"
"I think we can risk it. But if anyone asks, you're just my very attractive Swiss tour guide."
"Tour guide, huh?" Carlos waggles his eyebrows. "I can think of a few places I'd like to show you."
Rolling your eyes affectionately, you get out of the car. "Come on, horndog. Let's go before you get us into more trouble."
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
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gossiphub Guess who got caught sneaking out of a movie set in Switzerland? None other than actress YN and Ferrari driver Carlos Sainz! 📸 These two were seen holding hands and looking super close. Could this be the start of a new power couple? What are your thoughts?
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username1 OMFGGGG
username2 AH I KNEW IT
username3 this was expected after silverstone
username4 THE POWER THIS HOLDS
username5 the couple we didn’t know we needed
username6 YALL what if they’ve been actually dating for longer 😭
username7 I NEED MORE OF THIS
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liked by username1, username2 and 16,839 others
sainznews “YN is someone I admire a lot. Right now, though, I'm fully focused on the season and my performance on the track. I prefer to keep my personal life separate from my professional life.” -Carlos today !
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username1 BROOOO
username2 he said you’re NAWT getting details
username3 bold of the interviewer to ask 😭
username4 i really want them to be a couple but maybe they’re just friends
username5 COME ON SPILL THE DEETS
username6 oh well
username7 his ass was shaking
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yourinstagram The train ride home ❣️
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username1 iconic behavior
username2 girl come here address the rumors
gemmachan A beauty 🤍🤍
daisyedgarjones 🥹🥹
username3 i love that both of them are just playing dumb
username4 CARLOS IN THE LIKES
username5 ah shit they’re not going to confirm anything
username6 CARLOSYN IS REAL
username7 potential it couple and they’re playing dumb
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
The headlines hit like a tidal wave after your Swiss rendezvous. "A List Actress Spotted with F1 Star Carlos Sainz!" "YN and Carlos Sainz: Secret Romance?" Paparazzi photos of your flooded gossip sites and social media. Fans and media alike dissecting every detail of the grainy images.
You and Carlos spent hours on the phone, figuring out your response. "Maybe we should just confirm it," Carlos suggested one night, his voice tinged with frustration.
"Not yet," you replied, biting your lip. "Let's wait for it to die down a bit. We don't owe them an explanation."
So you played it cool, neither confirming nor denying the rumors. Carlos deflected questions at press conferences with his characteristic charm, while you posted on social media as if nothing had changed. It was stressful, constantly looking over your shoulders, but you managed to keep your relationship under wraps for a little longer.
However, as the world premiere of your movie approached, you made a decision. Curled up on the couch with Carlos during a rare weekend together, you turned to him, tracing patterns on his chest.
"I've been thinking," you started, your heart racing.
Carlos looked at you, his eyes soft. "About what, cariño?"
You took a deep breath. "I want you to come with me to the premiere. As my date. I'm ready for the world to know about us."
Carlos' face lit up with pure joy. He sat up, pulling you onto his lap. "Really? You're sure about this?"
"I'm sure," you nodded, cupping his face, "I love you, Carlos. I'm tired of hiding it."
He peppered your face with kisses, unable to contain his excitement. "I love you too, YN. So much. You have no idea how happy this makes me."
"I think I have some idea," you teased, gesturing to his beaming face.
Carlos pulled you closer, his forehead resting against yours. "No more sneaking around? No more pretending we're just friends?"
"No more," you confirmed.
He kissed you deeply, pouring all his love and excitement into it. When you parted, both slightly breathless, Carlos grinned. "So, do I get to coordinate my tie with your dress?"
"Is that all you're thinking about? Fashion?" you rolled your eyes affectionately.
"No," he replied, his eyes twinkling. "I'm also thinking about how I get to show off the most beautiful, talented woman in the world as my girlfriend."
The night of the premiere arrived quicker than you expected. Carlos looked devastatingly handsome in a sharp black suit, his hair perfectly styled. As you put the finishing touches on your makeup, you caught him watching you in the mirror, his eyes full of adoration.
"What?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious.
He shook his head, smiling softly. "Nothing. I just can't believe how lucky I am."
In the limo on the way to the theater, Carlos took your hand, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your skin. "Nervous?" he asked.
You nodded, letting out a shaky breath. "A little. You?"
"Excited," he replied, bringing your hand to his lips for a soft kiss. As the limo approached the theater, you could already hear the roar of the crowd. Carlos pulled you close, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. "Remember, no matter what happens out there, it's just you and me. Okay?"
"You and me."
The limo door opened, and suddenly you were blinded by camera flashes. Carlos stepped out first, then turned to offer you his hand. As you emerged, the crowd's volume doubled. Carlos kept his hand on the small of your back, a constant reassuring presence as you made your way down the carpet.
When you reached the photo spot, he pulled you close, his arm wrapping securely around your waist. The crowd went wild, cameras clicking furiously. You could hear reporters shouting questions, but you focused on Carlos, on the warmth of his touch and the love in his eyes.
As you made your way down the carpet, Carlos couldn't seem to keep his hands off you. He'd lean in to in your ear, his hand never leaving your waist. At one point, he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, sending the photographers into a frenzy.
You stopped for a few interviews, Carlos by your side the whole time. When asked about your relationship, you simply smiled and said, "We're very happy together." Carlos would beam at you, his pride evident in every glance.
By the time you entered the theater, you were both giddy with excitement and relief. As you took your seats, Carlos leaned over, his lips brushing your ear. "You were amazing out there. I love you so much."
You turned to him, your heart full. "I love you too. Thank you for being here with me."
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
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gossiphub 🚨🚨CARLOS SAINZ AND YN HAVE ARRIVED TOGETHER AT HER PREMIERE IN LONDON
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username1 OMGGGGG
username2 I CANNOT BELIEVE MY EYES
username3 IT WAS REAL ALL THIS TIME
username4 power couple of the century
username5 they look so cunty omg f1 needed a couple like this
username6 FACE ECONOMY TOGETHER
username7 IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS TIME
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yourinstagram My handsome date 🥰
view all 27,635 comments
username1 AHHHHH
username2 CARLOS I WASNT FAMILIAR WITH YOUR GAME
username3 man he is so HOT
andrewgarfield Can you get me tickets for a Grand Prix?
↳ username1 HEEEEELP
↳ yourinstagram 🙄🙄🙄
↳ carlossainz55 You’re welcome anytime, mate!
username4 yn blessing us with boyfriend carlos content already
username5 this relationship is the best thing that happened to us
landonorris Oh he showers
↳ maxverstappen1 Really impressive
↳ username1 THE GRID IS HERE
↳ carlossainz55 Cabrones
carlossainz55 I love you mi amor ❤️❤️
↳ yourinstagram 🥹
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liked by yourinstagram, charles_leclerc and 1,937,267 others
carlossainz55 My 👸❤️
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username1 OH LORDDD
username2 SIMP CARLOS
username3 he’s so in love my heart
scuderiaferarri ❤️
anasainzvdec Hermosa!
blancasainzv 🤍🤍🤍
username4 this relationship is a blessing for real
username5 CARLOS POSTING HIS GF???? HIS A LIST ACTRESS GF ?????
username6 i love them sm
username7 how long do you think he waited before turning his insta into a fanpage of her
fernandoalo_oficial 👏👏👏
pierregasly Double dates?
↳ francisca.cgomes PRETTY PLEASE
↳ yourinstagram Absolutely 🥰
yourinstagram I loveeeeeee youuuuu
↳ carlossainz55 ❤️
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
The Dutch Grand Prix in Zandvoort, the first race after the summer break. You were attending again, but this time, you walked into the paddock hand-in-hand with Carlos. There was no need for secrecy. You were here as his girlfriend, and the world knew it.
Fans call out your names as you make your way through the paddock, and you both wave, Carlos' arm protectively around your waist. The comfort of being able to show your affection openly still feels thrilling.
As you approach the Ferrari garage, you spot Charles chatting with some engineers. He turns and breaks into a wide grin at the sight of you two.
"Well, well, if it isn't the happy couple!" Charles calls out, walking over to greet you.
"Charles, I don't think you've been properly introduced to my girlfriend yet," Carlos laughs, pulling you closer.
You exchange pleasantries, and then Charles shakes his head, chuckling. "You know, I feel terrible now. I literally wanted to ask you out that day at Silverstone because I had no idea you were together!"
You all share a laugh at the irony, and Carlos playfully narrows his eyes at his teammate. "Watch it, Leclerc. She's taken."
"Be nice, darling," you swat Carlos' arm lightly, "Charles is just being honest."
As you watched Carlos chat animatedly with his teammate, you couldn't help but feel a sense of rightness. This was where you belonged, by Carlos' side, sharing in his world.
"Carlos, we need you for a quick strategy briefing," the engineer said, glancing at his watch.
Carlos nodded, then turned to you with an apologetic smile. "Duty calls, amor. I shouldn't be too long."
"No worries," you assured him. "I'll find ways to entertain myself."
He leaned in, kissing you softly. "I'll text you when I'm done," he promised, then followed his engineer out of the room.
With some time to kill, you decided to explore the paddock. It felt liberating to walk around openly, no longer worried about being spotted or sparking rumors. As you passed the McLaren garage, a familiar voice called out to you.
"Well, if it isn't Mrs. Smooth Operator herself!"
You turned to see Lando Norris grinning at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Lando!" you greeted him warmly. "How are you?"
"I'm good, but more importantly, how are you?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Finally free from the chains of secrecy, eh?"
You recalled the night when the headlines about your relationship with Carlos had broken, and Lando had been the first to reach out. That evening, over dinner at your place, you and Carlos had shared the story of your six-month secret romance with him. Lando had been surprisingly supportive, and since then, he'd become a close confidant and ally.
You chatted with him for a bit, he was someone always fun to talk to and you were happy Carlos had someone like him in his life.
Just then, your phone buzzed with a text from Carlos.
"Let me guess," Lando said, a knowing smirk on his face. "Lover boy is calling?"
You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. "As a matter of fact, yes. I should probably go."
"Go on then," Lando shooed you away playfully, "Go be disgustingly in love somewhere else."
You laughed, giving him a quick hug before heading towards the Ferrari hub. As you walked, you felt happy to be able to walk openly into his private space without worrying about prying eyes or rumors.
You knocked softly on the door of his driver's room. "Come in," Carlos called out.
As you entered, you found Carlos sitting on the small couch, still in his casual team gear. He looked up, his face breaking into a warm smile as he saw you.
"Hey you," he said, standing up and crossing the room to pull you into an embrace.
"Hey yourself," you replied, melting into his arms. "How are you feeling?"
Carlos pulled back slightly, his hands resting on your waist. "Better now that you're here," he said, his eyes twinkling.
You laughed softly, reaching up to smooth a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Charmer. But really, how are you?"
He took a deep breath, his expression turning more serious. "A little nervous, if I'm honest. The pressure is high here."
"That's natural," you nodded understandingly, your hand coming to rest on his cheek, "But Carlos, you're amazing. You've got this."
"Thank you, cariño," he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly, "Your support means everything to me."
For a moment, you both stood there in comfortable silence, foreheads touching, breathing each other in. There was no rush, no fear of discovery. Just the two of you, sharing a quiet moment before the storm of the race.
"I love that we can do this now," you murmured, breaking the silence. "No sneaking around, no looking over our shoulders."
Carlos smiled, pulling you closer. "Me too. It feels right, doesn't it? Having you here with me, openly by my side."
You nodded, your heart swelling with emotion. "It does. I'm so proud to be with you, Carlos. To support you."
His eyes softened, and he leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. You responded eagerly, pouring all your love and support into the gesture.
"I love you," he whispered.
"I love you too," you replied, your fingers tracing patterns on the back of his neck.
A knock on the door interrupted your moment. "Ten minutes, Carlos," came a voice from outside.
"I should go," you said reluctantly, but Carlos held onto your hand.
"Stay with me?" he asked, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. "Just for a few more minutes?"
You nodded, squeezing his hand. "Of course."
You sat together on the small couch, Carlos's arm around you, your head resting on his shoulder. No words were needed; your presence was enough to calm his pre-race nerves.
As the minutes ticked by, you felt Carlos take a deep breath, his body shifting as he prepared mentally for the race ahead.
"Time to go be a superhero," you said softly, lifting your head to meet his gaze.
Carlos smiled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before standing up. "Wait for me at the finish line?"
"Always."
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yourinstagram Heart eyes for my smooth operator 🥰
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username1 AWEEEE
username2 she’s down bad
arianagrande glowiiiing ✨
username3 couple of the century
username4 i love how they were keeping it lowkey but now they can’t stop posting each other as they should
scuderiaferarri Our paddock queen ❤️
username5 yn don’t get used to the ferrari red you’ll be wearing blue next year
username6 GET MARRIED ALREADY
anasainzvdec 😍
username7 every time the camera showed her she was either panicking or grinning from ear to ear I LOVE HER
carlossainz55 Mi amor 🤍
↳ username1 CARLOSSS
↳ username2 that should be me
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carlossainz55 P10 ➡️ P5! Beyond happy to share the race with my love @/yourinstagram 😘 Special weekend ahead at Monza, can’t wait to race in front of our Tifosi!
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username1 AHHHHHH
username2 BEST COUPLE EVER
username3 YN DID HOT LAPS WITH CARLOS !!!!
↳ username1 BEST VIDEO EVER
↳ username2 I LOVE THEM SO BAD
scuderiaferarri The Tifosi awaits ❤️
anasainzvdec 🙌
username4 VAMOS CARLITOS
username5 yn and carlos sainz dating is the best thing ever
charles_leclerc 👌👌👌
yourinstagram I love you 🥰🥰 I could get used to this
↳ username1 QUEEN NEVER LEAVE THE PADDOCK
↳ username2 we need her at every race
523 notes · View notes
rafesheaven · 2 days ago
Note
I think rare situation where stepbro!Rafe would be soft is if at night he hears you from across the hall whining “rafeyyy” and when he goes to check on you he finds you squirming around with your panties soaked in the middle of a wet dream. So he’d crawl into bed with you half asleep and pull you into him “I’m here princess, what’s wrong?” “Need you” and he’s immediately got your panties pushed to the side sliding his fingers in and out of you and rubbing your clit in slow circles, placing wet kisses on your neck and shoulder making you mewl and whine as you suck on his fingers. “poor little angel just needed her daddy, huh sweet girl? couldn’t even sleep without needing me to make you cum? my baby sis is always so needy for me. always needing to be fucked and filled even when she sleeps, huh?”🤭🥴
warnings — stepcest, mention of wet dream, fingering, praising
"rafey..." he heard from across the hall; furrowing his brows, he pulled the comforter off his body, getting out of his bed before making his way to your room. he quietly opened the door, closing it behind him as he stepped inside. your chest heaved, small whines filling the room as you squirmed in your bed. your blanket was kicked off your body, and your t-shirt was bunched around your hips, exposing your thoroughly soaked panties.
he crawled into the bed, slotting himself behind you, the bed dipping under his weight, causing you to stir awake. and wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you into him. "rafe?" you asked groggily, craning your neck to the side to look at him. his lips brushed against the shell of your ear, "shh, s'okay. i'm here, princess what's wrong?"
"need you," you whined, "yeah? need your big stepbrother to take care of you?" he nipped your ear, his hand moving to pull your panties aside. "fuck, you're so wet," rafe groaned, his fingers running through your slick folds, slipping inside you with ease. he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, planting wet kisses along the skin, his thick digits pumping in and out of your soaked cunt.
"rafey—" you mewled, rolling your hips, chasing after his fingers for more friction. "shit...knew you were needy, but wasn't expecting for you to fuck yourself on my fingers," rafe chuckled. he reached around, shoving his middle and ring fingers into your mouth to muffle the sharp gasp that clawed its way up your throat when he curled his fingers.
"shh, you're getting too loud; gotta keep you quiet," he whispered, his eyes practically rolling into the back of his head at the feeling of your lips suctioning around his digits, sucking eagerly. "yeah, just like that...suck on my fingers just like you would with my cock," his voice rasped.
your eyes blinked shut, his fingers muffling your increasing moans, “poor little angel... just needed her daddy, huh sweet girl? couldn’t even sleep without needing me to touch this pretty pussy and make you cum?"my baby sis is always so fuckin' needy for me, isn't she? always needing this sweet cunt to be fucked and filled even when she sleeps, huh?”
742 notes · View notes
k1mbe3rly · 3 days ago
Note
begging on my knees for something with toxic daeho 🙏 everyone writes him so sweet and kind, but i NEED some toxicity from him
honestly real😈
Toxic Dae-ho headcannons
warnings: smut, porns
twitter link!!
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- If you and Dae ho we’re to ever break up he would always manipulate you to getting back together or simply have makeup sex saying “It’s gonna the last time than i’m gone” but almost everyone knows that’s not true.. so that’s how you guys usually get back together
- If he’s was having a bad day at work or yall had an argument this man would literally ignore YOU. He would walk right past you and if you were in the way shove your shoulder a bit, eventually you’ll beg him to talk to you till the point he just fucks you dumb
“Wanted me so bad huh? you wanted to hear my voice baby?”
- He doesn’t let you go out with your friends unless he’s RIGHT there with you
- He goes thru your phone without permission, and if you don’t want him to go thru your phone he’ll start screaming and eventually you just let him have your phone atp
- Both of yall have the Life 360 app so he can check your location and also send you reminders to charge you phone
- The main reason why your head was shoved into a pillow and Dae ho hips snapping against you was because a ‘friend’ of yours suggested to meet at his place
- As he was fucking you senselessly, you got a call and no surprise it was the same guy, he makes you answer it but doesn’t stop his movements, he makes sure he can hear the skin slapping and his loud groans and growls
- Whenever yall are out in public he makes sures everyone knows your taken, either before yall leave he leaves hickeys on your neck or he touch holds your hand the whole time, the only time he grabs on to your waist is if someone is talking to you
Bonus points ;)
You only get his tip for talking to someone he absolutely HATES
Breeding you so that way everyone knows he was the one that got you pregnant
fucking you roughly in the car
think twice before talking to a guy
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v4mpvelocity · 3 days ago
Text
KANG DAE-HO X READER NSFW HEADCANNONS
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pairing: Kang Dae-Ho x female reader
SMUT MDNI
A/N : literally my man sigh, all of these headcannons start sfw with how you met kinda but the rest IS nsfw
Kang Dae-Ho, the man who put his life on the line to ensure your safety during red light green light. Pushing you behind him and shielding you with his body when Gi-Hun said for those who were smaller to get behind someone bigger.
Kang Dae-Ho, the man who you have been close to ever since, relying on eachother for survival in the games, a bond forming between you both. Although, as the games progressed that bond went beyond mutual effort to keep eachother alive. Eye contact that would last longer than for those who were just friends, lingering touches, unspoken words.
Kang Dae-Ho, the man who would do anything to protect you and ensure your well-being. Always keeping you at arms length whether it be making you sit next to him or keeping an arm around your shoulders. Hugs after games, sharing beds, sharing food, there was much more than just friendship going on between the both of you, and you both knew it.
Kang Dae-Ho, the man who's willing to fight somebody if they disrespect you, whether your around or not. His protective instincts working overdrive as he feels a primal need to declare you as his, making sure everybody knows it.
Kang Dae-Ho, the man who thrusts into you softly from behind when everyone is asleep, his strong arms keeping you close to his chest as he presses kisses to the side of your face. His thick cock filling you deliciously with each thrust, the tip kissing your cervix.
Kang Dae-Ho, the man who puts your needs before his, ensuring that youve finished at least twice before even putting his cock in to make sure that your prepped enough. Holding you to his chest as you whine whilst he slides his dick into your tight hole, stretching you to the point where you feel as if your being split in half.
'Mm shh...shh honey.... almost all the way in... that's it, good girl...taking it so well'
Kang Dae-Ho, the man who talks you through it, murmuring softly in your ear as you whimper and whine, trying to stay quiet as his cock abuses your oversensitive pussy. Softly caressing your tits with one hand as the other rubs circles on your clit, only intention to bring you the most pleasure he can.
'That feel good, hm? yeah? such a good girl?' or 'You want it harder honey? hmm..shh..shhh ive got you sweetie'
Kang Dae-ho, the man who has your legs spread at an almost embarrassing angle in the squid game bathrooms, but somehow manages to make you feel as if you were the most gorgeous being known to man. Pouring his love and affection for you into every thrust, eyes locked with yours as if he were proving his love for you through actions and unspoken words. Making the most vulgar words seem as if they were written by the gods themselves, as if it were angels singing praises from up above.
'Thats it honey, keep bouncing on that cock...fuckk..such a good girl' or 'So fuckin' beautiful.....my beautiful girl'
Kang Dae-Ho, the man who whines when he cums, and hes not ashamed of it either. His thrusts speeding up as his cock drives into you with an unfathomable speed, abusing your gummy walls. Hands gripping your hips as he pounded into your pussy, balls smacking against your ass causing the sound of skin on skin to echo throughout the room. He 100% has a breeding kink and will want to cum in you with any chance he gets, but if thats not your thing thats ok with him too!
'Fuckk..fuckkk...gonna cum honey....where you want it baby? you want me to fill you up hm? yeah? good girl.' or
'Fuckk....please can i cum in you baby......lemme fuck a baby into you.'
Kang Dae-Ho, the man who is the biggest softie and amazing at aftercare, ensuring you feel worshipped and loved before running you a hot bubble bath and lighting some candles. Providing you with anything you may need food, water you name it he'll get it for you. Then after he'll hold you close, ensuring your asleep before he can finally drift off.
472 notes · View notes
star2fishmeg · 3 days ago
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domestic things w luke 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼 like preparing dinner together, doing skincares, movie nightsss 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼 im crying i need it
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18:30, dinner:
"Luke! Who's watching the stove?" you complain, cutting vegetables while he nuzzles into your neck, peppering the skin with kisses and sliding his hands underneath your shirt.
"It's fine, angel. It's under control," he mutters, lips moving against your column and placing a wet kiss before standing straight and taking out two plates from the cabinet above, "do you not like my attention?"
He places the plates next to the stove, checking the pasta for real just so he can say he did. Both of you are capable of making a better meal, but it's just the two of you and neither has the energy to go through the prep so pasta and vegetables were settled on, however, you think he only settled on it so you can watch a movie faster. Plus, Luke wasn't really helping, his idea of being your sous-chef involves neck kisses, wandering hands and FaceTiming his friends.
"No, not when the stove's on and I have a knife in my hand." You roll your eyes playfully, finishing the last broccoli and brushing the diced veg to the end of the cutting board. "But any other time, you can be okay."
"So mean to me." He pouts, lowering the temperature on the hob. He slides back over to you, hands settling on your hips and lips planting chaste kisses on your cheek and neck once again. "How long's that veg gonna take?"
"Five minutes," you simply say, pouring the veg into a saucepan, turning the heat up and letting it boil. You spin around, Luke's hands still on you and he smiles. "Hi."
"Hi, baby," he mutters, his thumbs soothing over your hips. He's too cute when he smiles at you like that, soft, wide eyes with loose curls, licking his lips slightly, "wanna do this with you forever. Can I kiss you now?"
His eyes glimmer, hands sliding to your waist as he pulls you to his chest. You slide your hands up his chest, soothing over the muscles and you nod, closing your eyes until his lips gently slot with yours. He hums, arms winding around your middle as lips move against one another.
Abruptly, he pulls back, moving you to one side in a hurry and turning the hob down. Panic rushes over you, heart racing only to find your dinner had just boiled over. With a grin, you giggle when he huffs out a relieved breath before giggling with you.
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20:00, skincare:
You always think he looks adorable when he sits on the toilet seat so you can reach his face, looking up at you with glossy eyes with his hair pushed back by one of your headbands. He's never had much of a skincare routine, and he doesn't have the time for anything extensive but then again, you don't believe a multi-step, multi-product routine is needed for some people.
You stand between his legs, your own hair pushed back by a headband too, a cleansing wipe in your hand while holding his jaw in the other.
"When will you do this by yourself?" you ask, endeared, wiping his face with the wipe. You don't mind doing it for him, it's rather sweet that he lets you do it in the first place.
"Never," his hands creep under your shirt, caressing along your waist, skin feeling dewy and clean, "feels nice when you do it. Why does my skin always look better when you look after me? S'like you have a magic touch."
You toss the wipe away, his hands never leaving your waist as you squeeze moisturiser into your hands, "Because you're sweaty all the time and it clogs your pores, baby. You need to clean them, less breakouts."
"Is it unattractive when I break out? Like, does it gross you out?" You can tell he's genuinely worried about it by the way his voice is quieter and how his eyes track your every move.
"Absolutely not, Lu," you rub and tap the cream onto his cheeks along to his nose, forehead and chin, "I still love you either way. It's just a pimple or two, nothin' deep. S'normal. Does it gross you out when I break out?"
"No..." he mumbles, seeing your point and letting go of you. He watches you turn to the mirror and wipe your own face, entranced by your lack of concern about your appearance when with him, stripped down to the bare yet he still thinks you're beautiful and you're comfortable enough for him to see every blemish. He thinks for a moment about how well he's proven that he loves you enough for you to feel safe with him.
It's not like you haven't noticed him staring from the corner of your eye, in all honesty, you think it's sweet how he sits in a trance, watching, learning, admiring.
"You want a pore strip, Snoops?" your voice catches him by surprise and he blankly blinks, watching you apply a pore strip over your nose.
"Will it prevent me from making out with you?"
"Nope, that's a facemask, this just goes over your nose." You smile, waving an unopened one in front of his face.
"Then put it on me, baby." He closes his eyes and waits, smiling when you dab his nose with a damp sponge and apply the strip, pressing firmly and kissing his forehead.
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21:00, movie night:
You can't ever truly concentrate on a film, not while cuddled with Luke and especially not while watching in his bed. You're tucked under his arm, head resting on his chest with one leg over his lap, his hand caressing along your thigh while the other slides under the waistband of your shorts. He's still wearing your headband from earlier, curls pushed back off his face with a couple too short to hold and falling over his forehead. He looks cute, even cuter holding you to his body like you're his teddy bear.
He finds it hard to concentrate as well. Your hand soothing over his chest sets goosebumps running down his spine, the way your skin is touching and transferring heat only enticing him into shifting his gaze from the TV to your lips.
But if there's one thing that drives you up the wall when watching movies with him, is that Luke will talk his ass off through one if he's excited about it. Secretariat's his favourite movie, and you'd think if he loved it so much, he'd want to watch it again, but instead, he's giving you a running commentary and you can't hear a thing, and he's refusing to put subtitles on.
"Oh, I love this part!" he mumbles in excitement, eyes lighting up.
"You said that ten minutes ago..."
"Baby, no. I mean it this time, look!"
He acts like your eyes haven't left the screen, lips pulling into a grin. His excitement is endearing, and your heart warms seeing him into something other than hockey. He's so excited that his hand slides up your waist, hoisting you further up his body so your faces are almost level. You almost think he's going to continue watching, but you're miserably mistaken as he keeps chatting, explaining the backstory and inspiration for the film at the same time you're trying to listen.
In an exhale, your hand cups his cheek and you turn his face to look at you. Your gaze burns into his but you're not mad, it's an endeared and adoring gaze that shimmers under the glow of the TV.
"Shut up, Lu." You press your lips to his, fingers sliding into the back of his curls as mouths slowly and sensually move with each other, his hand on your thigh kneading at your skin and the other flat, gliding up your back, thumb rubbing your skin. He melts into you, humming at the high he gets when kissing you, stomach flipping as his desperation becomes obvious. With every second you disconnect for air, he dives back in for another languid and wet kiss, completely forgetting about the movie in the first place. You're all he's concentrating on now.
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Animated divider belongs to @/cafekitsune
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