#she can give out dresses but can’t give out food!!

[hrrtshape]

FAME DR — random things i catch myself doing

⋆   checking my reflection in every reflective surface – not even trying to be vain; it just happens. windows, sunglasses, the back of my spoon in restaurants��� gotta make sure the hair’s doing its thing!!!!!! can you blame me?? after scripting that im the most beautiful person in the galaxy world universe planet earth the extraterrestrial covering???

⋆  getting waay too into my own fan edits – i know, i know. i know !! but i can’t help it. cause why are some of these people lowkey bob ross’es…….. and god knows those iwishutalktalkwishutalktalkwishutalktalk edits slap!!!!!

⋆  making a mental list of all the celebrities i want to befriend – every awards show, it’s like, “ooooooooo, gotta chat with her next time. ye. ye,” or “could we handle being besties? or would she be too busy? would i be too busy??” 

⋆  doing my own mini-paparazzi test runs – i’ll walk down my hallway pretending it’s a red carpet, testing aaallll thé best angles and smiles for when the cameras flash. “which look is more it girl chic baddie mysterious diva core? do i give a little smile or keep it ice-cold? attitude?? fuck. what i do.”

⋆  googling my own name with random keywords – like “[…] + scandal” just to see what wild stories fans are spinning, or “[…] + best outfits” to remind myself that I AM…indeed.. that girl

⋆  pretending i’m on vogue’s “73 questions” while i do mundane stuff – loading the dishwasher or folding laundry, and all of a suddem i’m answering fake questions about my favourite ice cream flavour like the world is (definitelly….definitely…) watching.

⋆  using my awards as high-key decor – casually arranging grammy’s, oscars, tony’s and emmys’ on my living room shelf, so they’re visible for any.. unplanned photos. they might as well count as conversation starters.

⋆  accidentally stealing lip glosses from every makeup artist I work with – it’s not intentional! but I end up with an ever-growing collection of shades that accidentally find their way into my purse. oops ? the 11 year old kleptomaniac in me never left, i guess. 

⋆  tossing air-kisses to fans out the windows – dramatically waving out the window to invisible crowds like i’m on a royal tour. it’s mainly just for me, but I feel like the main character every single time.

⋆  practising my award speech in the shower – just in case, you know ? i’m running through all the thank yous and shoutouts, making sure the delivery is tear-worthy but not too dramatic.

⋆  catching myself using my best “signature” autograph – even when signing random receipts, i go full-on with my signature. i know it’ll end up on ebay one day, so i make it flawless every time.

⋆  overthinking my outfit to do something minor – even stepping out for two minutes has to look like it’s casual yet unbelievably chic. what if a fan spots me or a candid photo gets out? the pressure’s real.

⋆  choosing my airport outfits as if It’s a NYFW – the airport is a runway for the weary and jet-lagged, so i’m showing up in my finest oversized hoodie and designer shades, ready to be “spontaneously” photographed.

⋆  taking a nap between interview segments – there’s a tiny couch in my dressing room for a reason, and you better believe i’m getting that beauty sleep between each round of the press circuit. besides. it’s very convenient that i scripted i look angelic after waking up. so, yes! 

⋆  listening to my own songs on repeat (in private) – yeah, yeah, yeah, maybe it’s a little narcissistic, but when I’m alone, my music is basically my personal ‘bop-makker’ playlist. 

⋆  bringing little sweet treats to red carpets – you don’t know hunger until you’re in an all-day event in a tight dress with no food in sight, so yes, i stash some of those bombastic granola bars in my clutch.

⋆  updating my pinterest boards – 24/7 adding new aesthetics, vintage looks, moody photoshoots, and iconic glam shots for future eras. the grind never stops !! besides, it’s xtremely fun to find archival gowns that i could just be like… “yeah, i want it.” 

⋆  taking a pic every time i feel iconic !! – at the end of the day, it’s all about those little moments of mine. how could i not capture myself looking iconic with my hair blowing in the wind, or that one perfect winged eyeliner and i won an oscar. this is MY MOMENT. 

⋆  signing a signature with something xxxtra 4 fans – if i see a fan with my merch, i’ll randomly sign it and add hearts, sparkles, whatever i can just to make it extra special. just please don’t put it on ebay again with a doubled price 

⋆  giggling over my own wikipedia page – homemade margarita blender and a straw in it in hand, reading. yes. i do that. unemployed at heart. also sometimes raising an eyebrow when i encounter something false. like, no…i haven’t been dating dev patel. i mean, i wish ! 

⋆  humming my own lyrics while shopping — as if some people wouldn’t recognise them !! just a little “oopsy, did i just sing my grammy-winning chorus in the cereal aisle?”

⋆  leaving my phone on loud because it could be beyonce, for all intents and purposes — ready for all incoming calls. for interviews. for mysterious dinners. for my situationship to text me. for that movie role. but also probably just mom, calling to check on me.

⋆  breaking into runway walks — from the kitchen to the bathroom, because i !!!have!! to practice those killer strides. preferably in slippers.

⋆  complimenting my own acting in movies — like……“damn, i’m talented. i’m pretty good at this, huh..” lowkey shocking myelf during certain scenes, because yes, i went *THERE.*

⋆  collecting little trinkets from world tours — coasters, matchbooks, hotel room keys (should’ve probably given those back, now that i’m thinking about it), because each one is a time capsule from the adventure.

⋆  randomly testing my oscar acceptance expressions in the mirror — gotta know how much to cry, smile, or look truly humbled when the time comes !!!!

[mymindcreatedthis]

Need Help? 18+

Reader x Daphne Van Donselaar

Warning: Smut, Daddy kink, Dirty talk, unprotected sex, multiple Creampies, blowjob, throat pie, squirting, clit teasing, spanking, hair pulling, Positions: Table Top, Stand and Deliver, Doggy, The Spider, Cowgirl

Word count: 3.3k

*Y/n’s Pov*

It was the second week of camp. We had a long day of weight lifting and training, Daphne and I are roommates at this camp. We had just gotten back to the room.

“I’m gonna shower.” Daphne says.

I nod, I take off my shoes and plop on my bed and scroll through my phone as Daphne takes a shower and gets cleaned up. 10 minutes later Daphne finishes up in the shower and comes back into the room.

I grab new clothes and go into the bathroom. I start the shower, I set my things off to the side. I shower and get cleaned up.

I get dressed up, my phone pings, I grab my phone and check it. It was a text message from Danielle Van De Donk.

Dan: Are you able to hangout? I’m hungry, we can get food.

Me: Yeah I just got out of the shower. I'll be over in 2 minutes.

Dan: Okay see you in a bit.

I turn off my phone. I put my shoes in and grab my things. “I’ll be back, I’m gonna get food with Dan. Did you want anything?” I say.

Daphne smiles. “No, I'm okay. Thank you.”

I smile and nod and leave the room and go meet Dan.

*Daphne’s Pov*

I bite my lip and check out Y/n’s ass as she leaves the room. God she’s so hot, I can’t take my eyes off her.

I had a wet dream about Y/n last night so she’s been on my mind all morning. I was soaking wet this morning, I bit my lip and squeezed my thighs together as I felt myself getting wet again thinking about it.

I had time, she won’t be back for a while. I take off my shorts and panties and set them off to the side. I grab my dildo and grab my phone and lay on the bed.

I moan and look at a picture of Y/n and rub my folds. I moan, I slip in a finger and slowly finger myself as I continue to look at her picture.

Fuck I could look at this picture all day. Y/n was wearing just her sports bra and boxers. Her bulge was visible, she looked huge and she was definitely packing.

I moan and look at her tatted toned ripped abs. Fuck I would give anything to ride those abs and get off on them. I grab the dildo, I spit on it and take it in my mouth and start sucking my dildo as I finger myself a bit faster and continue to look at Y/n’s picture.

I moan against the dildo and cum. I moan and continue to masterbait to Y/n’s picture as I keep on sucking my dildo. I blush darkly in embarrassment and freeze when I see Y/n standing there smirking at me.

I didn’t even hear her come in. Y/n smirks as she watches me. She giggles. “Need help?”

I blush as I see her slight bulge, she was turned on from watching me do this. I set my phone and dildo to the side, and quickly get up off the bed. I grab Y/n’s hand and make her sit down at the end of the bed.

I get on my knees and kneel between her legs. Y/n bites her lip and moans as I kiss her bulge over her shorts. I grab the waistband of her shorts and boxers and look up at Y/n.

Y/n bites her lip and nods. “Take them off.”

I slide her shirts and boxers off and toss them off to the side. Y/n slips off her shirt and sports bra and tosses them off to the side. I take off my shirt and bra and toss them off to the side as well.

I bite my lip and check out her cock. “Fuck baby, you’re huge.”

Y/n blushes a bit. “T-Thanks.”

*Y/n’s Pov*

I bite my lip as Daphne slowly jerks me off and spits on my tip, her spit travels down my cock. I quietly moan as she continues to add more spit to my cock and jerk me off.

Once I’m hard Daphne takes my cock in her mouth. I moan as she slowly bobs her head, her mouth wet and warm. I moan and grip her pony tail.

Daphne hums against my cock and slowly bobs her head. I moan and rub my fingers through her hair, Daphne massages my balls as she continues to give me head.

I moan loudly in pleasure as she bobs her head faster allowing my cock to go all the way down her throat. Daphne chokes and gags at the sudden feeling.

"Fuck Daphne, do that again please." I begged, feeling my eyes roll to the back of my head from the sensation. Sweat dripped down my forehead.

Daphne did as I pleaded, repeating what she did allowing my dick to once again slide all the way down her throat causing her to gag again. Her spit spluttered everywhere covering my length moving her hand to play with my balls. The way she was playing with my balls began to make them tighten up. Combined with the speed she was bobbing her head, she was pushing me closer and closer to exploding in her mouth.

"Fuck Daphne, if you keep doing that I'm gonna cum buckets." I moaned as I repositioned my grip on her ponytail guiding her head up and down on my length. I could feel precum leaking out of my dick and into her mouth telling her that I was getting closer to my release.

She hummed against my dick in response as well as the new taste she was experiencing as she gripped onto my thighs to further up her speed.

"Uuuhh F-Fuck Daphne S-Slo...."

Throat pie:

I couldn't take it anymore. Her mouth was too good, without any warning cum came oozing into her mouth causing her to choke and gag. Daphne swallows my load and sucks me dry getting every last drop of cum.

My dick falls from her mouth and falls limp. Daphne smiles and shows me a mouth full of cum. Some of my cum drips down her chin.

I smile and rub her chin. “Swallow my load babe.”

Daphne smiles and swallows my cum. “Mmm you taste good daddy.”

I smile and blush at her nickname for me. I didn’t know Daphne had a daddy kink. Daphne smirks and stands up. I picked her up and set her on the desk.

Daphne giggles and lays back on the desk. We both moan as I rub my tip through her folds.

“Mm F-Fuck Y/n just put it in.” Daphne moans.

I moan and slide my cock inside her. We both moan as she takes my length deep inside her, Daphne moans and rests her legs against my shoulders and grips the edge of the table.

“M-Move.” Daphne moans.

I moan and place my hands on her hips. We both moan as I slowly thrust in and out of her. God she was perfect her pussy was wet and warm and felt like heaven.

I moan and kiss her leg, I moan and thrust into her a bit faster. My balls slap against her skin as our moans fill the room. I moan and thrust into her faster than before. Daphne’s tits bounce around as I continue to fuck her.

"Mmm fuck, feels so good." Daphne cries out in pleasure.

I moan and rub her clit with my thumb and hold onto her thigh as I thrust in and out of her faster and faster. Daphne moans loudly in pleasure as I rub her clit at a fast pace with my thumb.

“Mmm f-fuck, feels so good.” I moan.

“Fuck…fuck….fuck.” Daphne squeaks out with each pleasure.

I moan and plant kisses up and down her thigh as I continue to fuck her on the desk. My balls slap against her skin.

“Mmm fuck! Fuck I’m gonna cum.” Daphne moans.

Daphne moans and squirts. I smirk as I feel her juices on my abs and dick. I continue to run her clit as I fuck her, her walls clench around me letting me know she was close to cumming.

“Fuck I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” Daphne moans.

Daphne moans loudly in pleasure and cums all over my dick. Daphne cumming sends me over the edge.

Creampie:

I can’t take it anymore. Cum shoots out of my cock and fills up Daphne's entrance filling her up to the brim. I let go of her hip and massage my tits as I slowly thrust in and out of her.

Cum drips down her folds and drips onto the desk and floor. I moan and slowly thrust in and out of her as the last of my seed fills her up. Cum continues to ooze out of her as I fill her up.

We both come down from our highs. We both moan as I slowly pull out of her, cum immediately oozes out of her and drips onto the desk and onto the floor.

I giggle and rub her clit. “Fuck baby your stuffed to the brim.”

Daphne giggles and moans. “Mm fuck, I feel so full.” Daphne looks at me and smirks. “That’s only one load daddy. We’re not done.”

I blush as she says this. Daphne gets off the desk and walks over to me. “Let’s try something new baby.”

Daphne bends over, I bite my lip and grab her wrists and pin her wrists to her sides as I slam my cock back inside her.

We both moan as I slowly thrust in and out of her. I moan as I feel her walls clench around me, her walls are tighter in this position. I moan and thrust into her faster, my balls slap against her skin as our moans fill the room.

Daphne moans and bounces forward and backwards onto my cock after each thrust I moan loudly in pleasure her pussy was really tight in this position. I don't think I can last much longer. Her pussy has an amazing grip.

“Fuck…. Oh f-fuck!” Daphne screams in pleasure.

I bite my lip and get more turned on as her ass ripples from each thrust and claps against my abs. I moan and spank her ass, Daphne moans loudly in pleasure as I spank her ass.

“Fuck I’m squirting! I’m squirting!” Daphne screams in pleasure.

I smirk and bite my lip as I feel her let go. She squirts on my dick and on her thighs and onto the floor. I moaned and kept going, I was locked onto her ass. I couldn't stop watching as her ass rippled and jiggled with each thrust.

I moan loudly in pleasure as the urge to cum gets stronger. I moan as her walls continue to clench around me, it’s only been 10 minutes and I’m already about to tap out and finish inside her.

Daphne moans loudly in pleasure. “Ahh fuck I’m gonna cum.”

“Mm me too.” I moan in pleasure.

After a couple more thrusts I moan as my balls tighten. Daphne moans and cums all over my dick.

Creampie:

We both moan as I slam my cock inside her and cum. Cum shoots out of my cock and fills up Daphne's entrance filling her up to the brim. Daphne moans as I unload my seed inside her and paint her walls white.

We both moan as I slowly thrust in and out of her. Daphne collecting the last of my cum inside her pussy. Cum oozes out of her pussy and drips down her thighs as I continue to thrust into her and fill her up with my load.

I moan and help her ride out her high. I spank her ass one last time, I slowly pull out of her. Cum immediately oozes out of her, cum covers her folds and drips onto the floor and drips down their legs.

“Please keep going, Y/n I need more.” Daphne cutely begs.

I giggle at her comment. “Get on all fours babe.” I ordered.

Daphne does as I say, she gets off her knees. She moves onto the bed and gets on all fours. "Such a good girl." I say and spank her ass as she wiggles it around.

I get situated behind her, I line my dick up with her pussy, a thought comes to mind as I reach around Daphne’s body taking grip of both her wrists and place them behind her back so her face is against the mattress.

"Ready baby? Ready to get destroyed?" I whispered as I gripped her wrists tighter and slammed my cock deep inside her pussy.

She let out a mighty scream filled with pleasure as I bottomed out inside of her pussy, not slowing down.

I moaned as I carried on destroying her entrance. Daphne tries to reply to which I press her face into the pillows muffling whatever she tries to say.

The sight of her ass rippling against me after every thrust was a sight I loved to see. Daphne trying to move her hands but couldn't from the grip I had on them seemed to send her into overdrive. Her moans became louder, sweat dripping down her back as she began to get closer to her orgasm.

Daphne moans loudly in pleasure and slides back and forth on my cock. I moan as she does this, I giggle and squeeze her ass. She was desperate for my load.

Daphne moans and throws her ass back against me sliding back and forth on my cock faster and faster. I moan and spank her ass.

Daphne moans and cums.

Creampie:

"Fuck." I yelled as I began to cum at the same time as Daphne . I could feel my cum oozing inside of her, not being able to warn her in time. Us both moaning together as we reached our highs, filling her pussy to the brim.

One final spank to her right cheek, I let go of her hands to which she fell onto the bed exhausted. I planted a kiss on her ass before moving the kisses up and down her back receiving little giggles from Daphne . Suddenly flipping her over onto her back.

“Sit back on the bed babe.” Daphne says.

I do as she says and sit back on the bed. Daphne lays on the bed and lays on her back, her hips between my legs. I bend my legs a bit and move my foot outside of her hips.

“Put it back in daddy.” Daphne cutely moans.

I bite my lip, we both moan as I slide my cock back inside her. I moan as her walls immediately clench around me. I moan and slightly grip the sheets as Daphne moans and slowly rocks back and forth on my cock.

I moan and lock eyes with her, Daphne moans and looks at me, her eyes full of lust not wanting to stop. Daphne moans and rocks back and forth on my cock a bit faster.

I moan as her skin slaps against mine as our moans fill the room. “Mm F-Fuck.” I moan in pleasure.

Daphne moans, she throws her head back and goes even faster and harder. I moan and run her clit, Daphne gasps and moans as I do this.

“Mmm fuck…fuck.” Daphne moans as she continues to rock back and forth on my cock.

“Mmm fuck baby your gonna need a pill after this. You have so much cum.” I giggle and moan.

“I don’t care babe. I just need you and your cum.” Daphne moans.

I moan as the urge to cum gets stronger. It’s only been 9 minutes and I’m already about to tap out and bust inside her. Daphne moans, her breathing gets heavier letting me know that she was close to cumming.

“Mm. S-Someone close?” Daphne moans.

I moan and nod. “Yes, I’m gonna fill you up.”

Daphne moans and cutely giggles. “Let go daddy, let go and fill up my pussy.”

I moan as she goes even faster and harder. I giggle and bite my lip as she screams in pleasure and squirts again. She squirts all over our legs, my abs, and cock.

I moan as I feel my balls tighten. “F-Fuck Daphne bab-“ I’m unable to warn her in time.

Creampie:

I moan loudly in pleasure, I can’t take it anymore and let go. Cum shoots out of my cock and fills up Daphne’s entrance filling her up to the brim.

“Mm f-fuck.” Daphne moans.

Daphne slowly rocks back and forth helping us ride out our highs collecting the last of my cum in her pussy. We both moan as my cum leaks out of her and oozes onto the sheets as she continues to rock back and forth on my cock slowly.

I moan and slowly pull out, cum immediately oozes out and oozes onto the sheets. I giggle and rub her pussy as I admire the sticky mess I left behind in her pussy.

“Mm fuck babe.” I moan.

Daphne giggles and kisses me. She breaks the kiss and looks at me. “One more?” She questions.

“One more.” I say.

Daphne straddles me; she lines my dick up with her pussy. Daphne puts my tip in her and slowly sinks down. My dick taking my length deep inside her.

We both moan as I'm deep inside her pussy. Daphne grabs my boobs and takes a moment to adjust to my size.

"Fuck I thought you were big in my mouth. I feel so full with you deep inside me." Daphne moans.

Me and Daphne both moan as she slowly slides up and down on my dick. "Mmm fuck, so wet and tight." I moan in pleasure.

Daphne slides up and down on my dick faster and faster. "Mmm fuck daddy you're really deep in there." Daphne moans.

Her skin slaps against mine as our moans fill the room. I moan and spank her ass. Daphne moans and goes faster and harder.

"F-Fuck." I moan in pleasure.

Daphne moans and massages my boobs as she keeps riding my dick going harder. "Gah fuck, it feels so good." Daphne moans.

"Mmm you Like that baby? Daddy's dick deep inside you stretching you out?" I ask.

Daphne moans and grips the top of the head board. As she goes faster and faster. "Fuck daddy, I love it. I love you stretching me out." Daphne moans.

I moan loudly as I feel myself getting close to cumming. "Gah Daphne, slow down a bit. I'm gonna cum." I moan in pleasure.

Daphne cutely giggles and moans. "That's the point baby. I'm gonna drain your balls and collect every drop of your cum." Daphne says.

Fuck that may have been the hottest thing I've heard. I moan and watch Daphne as she continues to ride me.

"You close baby? You gonna bust your load deep inside my pussy?" Daphne asks seductively.

"Mmm I'm gonna pump you full of cum." I moan in Pleasure.

Daphne grips the head board tightly and rides my dick faster and harder. I moan loudly in pleasure as I feel myself getting close to cumming.

"Daphne baby, I'm gonna cum." Loudly in pleasure.

Creampie

I moan in pleasure. I can't take it anymore, I bust my load deep inside her. Daphne moans and cums all over my dick, we both moan as I continue to shoot ropes of cum inside her and paint her walls white. We both moan as I continue to pump her full of cum.

Daphne gasps and moans as I continue to cum inside her. "Mmm fuck there's so much." Daphne moans.

I help Daphne ride out her high, once we both come down from our highs Daphne closely climbs off my dick. Thick cum ooze sour of her and drips down her thighs and drips onto my lap, my dick and onto the bed and sheets.

"Mmm fuck." Daphne moans as my cum continues to ooze out of her.

Daphne smiles and plants a thank you kiss on my lips. “Thank you for your help babe. Mmm I really needed that.”

[maxillness]

╰┈➤Dinner? || MS7 x engineer!fwb!reader

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, fwb, oral (f), fingering

Wordcount: 1.1k

Request: Michael in his prime at Ferrari and maybe a little fwb situation with an assistant or an engineer?

I know the request said fwb, but I love happy endings (unless you look at my tiktok), so did they end up in a committed relationship? Yes

Tag list: @isurvived3-11andimproud

Michael had won again, no surprise there

She walked up to his drivers room after she knew he had showered and changed. She knocked on the door softly, waiting for him to open up

“I told you to just walk in” He chuckled as he let her into the room

She turned around, walking closer to him, pushing him softly up against the wall “You won” She smirked slightly

“Nice observation. Good to know your eyes still work” He chuckled slightly

She stepped closer to him, trapping his body between hers and the wall, her hands working on his belt “Let me reward you” She said softly

He grabbed her wrists softly, pulling them away from him “As much as I like you on your knees, I’d rather have dinner with you tonight” He sighed, caressing the skin on her wrists with his thumb

“Dinner? Why? You never want dinner” She asked surprised

“Would you? My treat” He looked at her with the softest eyes she had ever seen. He never looked at her with that soft eyes, not even when he was needy

“I mean- sure” She shrugged slightly

“Good. Thank you” He leaned down, kissing her softly

She would be lying if she said that she didn’t enjoy the dinner, it was really nice, but she couldn’t help but be worried

He chose food over sex. He never chooses food over sex, not with her anyway

“Why are we at dinner, Michael?” She asked, putting her fork down beside her plate, looking up at him where he had stopped all movement of his body

“Can’t we just eat together?” He asked with a slight shrug

“Not when you chose it over sex. You never do that, and we never eat out together” She explained, her voice slightly worried

“You make it sound like I never treat you right- which you can tell me if I don’t” Now it was his turn to be worried- worried she felt used

“You treat me good, Michael- I’m just worried when you start doing things you never would’ve in the past” She had noticed it more recently, how he would start treating her more like a girlfriend than a fuck buddy

Leaving little gifts in her hotel room, or actually giving her them up front. Treating her to more snacks between sessions, sitting and talking to her more often than starring her down from the other end of the garage

“Look, I like this… Arrangement that we have but, I don’t want to just see you on race weeks, I want to see you everyday-“ He took her hand into his, his rough thumb caressing the back of her soft hand “-I want to wake up with you in my arms everyday, not just Monday morning after a race. I want to see you in my kitchen, preparing dinner because I can’t cook” They both chuckled slightly “I want to have you, y/n”

“You’re insane… For thinking I don’t want to have you too” She smiled softly

He was silent for a minute before he spoke up “You still want me to choose sex over food?” He asked with a slight smirk

They barely entered the hotel room before both their hands were on the other, kisses messy and wet- not that they cared in the moment

Her dress was quickly on the floor before he softly pushed her down against the bed, his head lowered between her thighs, kissing up and down the skin

His fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties, pulling them down her legs, throwing them to the floor as well

She tugged at his hair softly, encouraging him to go closer to where she needed him the most

She gasped softly as he pressed his tongue against her clit, flicking it softly, his hands holding onto her thighs, keeping them open

She moaned softly when he slowly pushed two of his fingers into her, setting a soft pace as she got adjusted

He sped up his fingers and tongue, curling his fingers so he hit the spot that made her body shake, her vision blurry and his name falling off her tongue like a prayer

“Fuck- Michael- please. ‘M close” He knew by the way her walls were clenching down around his fingers and her thighs shook around his head

A few curls of his fingers more, and she came on his fingers and tongue, her body shaking and her throat sore from moaning too loud

She whined when he pulled away and out of her, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand after having wiped his fingers on her inner thigh

“Please… I need you” She panted, her voice husky

“A little needy, no?” He chuckled, removing his shirt and throwing it to the floor

“Have you seen yourself in a mirror recently? Why would I *not* be needy?” She was still panting heavily as he got rid of his jeans and briefs

“No, but I have seen you, and mein gott” He kissed up her stomach, up between her boobs, over her collarbone, up her neck and to her lips, kissing her softly

She moaned softly into the kiss, hooking her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, her arms around his neck, keeping him close

His head fell into the crook of her neck, both moaning softly when he slowly pushed himself inside of her

One of his hands were on her hip, the other arm bent by his elbow, holding himself up as he set a slow pace, getting her adjusted before he started moving faster

Her nails dragged down his back, leaving red trails on his skin, her moans getting louder while her back arched up from the bed

Her mind were too fucked out to cipher the different languages of praises that were spilling out of Michael’s mouth between kisses on her shoulder

“‘M close” She managed to get out between her moans

“Come for me, Liebling” He moaned softly, his thrusts getting sloppier and out of rhythm

A few sloppy thrusts later, and she was almost screaming his name, her walls rapidly clenching down around him as she came, her body shaking as well underneath his

A second later, he came, his hips stilled, spilling his cum into her, her name spilling out of his mouth in a quiet moan

He softly laid on top of her, both their breathing heavy and their bodies glazed with sweat, their messy hair sticking to their foreheads

”Ich liebe dich” His words were mumbled into the skin of her neck, but she heard them alright

“I love you too” She smiled softly, kissing the side of his head, caressing his back softly

[waterfire1848]

An au where Azula was saved by Hakoda from shipwreck when she was 2 years old and raised by him and Kya as their daughter (and got a new name since her original one is unknown)

Hello, anon!!!

1. The Royal Family goes on one of their trips to Ember Island one summer except there is a massive storm that they didn’t anticipate. The storm badly messes up their directions, causing them to start to sail south and starts to tear their boat in pieces. Ozai, Ursa and Zuko are able to stay with the biggest parts of the ship but Azula is thrown into the sea, hugging a piece of the boat so that she doesn’t drown. Because of the severity of the storm and the fact that Azula is only two, her family assumes that she passed away. She did not. Instead, Azula is still resting on the piece of the ship that she clung to when Hakoda spots her in the middle of the ocean. (Hakoda: Is that…SPIRITS! *Jumps into the ocean* Bato: Hakoda! What are you doing?! Hakoda, swimming over to Azula: It’s okay, sweetie. It’s okay. I got you. Azula, weakly: Mama? Hakoda: Not mama. I’m sorry, but I can help you. Let’s get you warmed up and get some food in you.) Hakoda brings her back to his ship where they dress her in warm furs, give her drinkable water and fish to eat.

2. When she’s got clinging to life, Azula is a pretty happy and “chatty” toddler. She loves following Hakoda around the ship—she become incredibly attached to him since he saved her life—, giggling at the other men on the ship and is pretty content with sitting on the rug and listening to stories. All in all, Azula is a really easy and happy toddler. Since she’s all alone and was seen with what looked like a piece of wood from a ship, everyone assumes that her family passed away in a shipwreck. (Hakoda: We’re bringing her with us. Bato: Hakoda- Hakoda: Kya will love her and she wouldn’t forgive me for not bringing her back. Bato: Kya will love her but can you guys handle three kids? Hakoda: It’ll be good for this little one to have siblings. Plus Katara and Sokka will get along great with her. I’m sure of it. Bato: Alright. I mean, none of us are going to argue that we put her in the Earth Kingdom orphanage so….I guess you got a new daughter). Hakoda is right. Kya loves the baby girl when she first meets her and she agrees with Hakoda that the best option is for them to take her in. There’s just one problem. Azula is two and can’t say her name and Hakoda and Kya don’t know it. (Hakoda: She needs a new name. Kya: Korra? Hakoda: No. Kya: Ivalu? Hakoda: No. Kya: Eska? Hakoda: No. Kya: You pick one then. Hakoda: How about….Hinata? Kya: Hinata. I love it.)

3. Hinata(Azula), Katara and Sokka grow up close. Despite the fact that they’re from different nations, the kids never let that stop them from being siblings and calling each other brother and sister. Azula grew up just like any other child in the South Pole. When Azula’s firebending comes in is when the family reaches its first problem. Because up until that point everyone had believed Azula was an Earth Kingdom child and finding out she was a firebender makes them realize how wrong they were. Plus, Azula has been raised to see firebenders as monsters and villains so finding out she is one is heartbreaking to her. (Azula, crying into her mom’s jacket: I don’t wanna be a monster! I wanna be a waterbender like Kat! Kya: Hinata, baby, the spirits can’t change what element you bend. Azula: But I’m a monster! Kya: You’re not a monster. Those firebenders we told you about…they were raised to be horrible, but you? You’re the sweetest girl. You could never be like them. Azula: Promise? Kya: I promise. I love you, Hinata. Azula: I love you too. mom.) Azula finally accepts her moms offer to go to the caves and train in secret with Katara. Kya doesn’t want them bending in public but she doesn’t want them to ignore their skills either, so they go to a hidden cave where the girls can practice away from possible eyes.

4. Sadly, that’s not the last challenge the family faces because 2 years after Azula and Katara get their bending, when they’re eight and Sokka is nine, a raid is done on the South Pole, looking for the last waterbender. Azula initially runs to the tent and finds her mom and the soldier. Kya tells Azula to leave, saying that she can handle this but Azula refuses to leave her mom. The solder recognized that Azula is Fire Nation but he doesn’t know who she is. He tries to take her which results in Kya going full mama bear on him and grabbing a nearby sword to stab him with repeatedly. After she’s sure her daughter is okay, she hides Azula under some furs and leaves the tent to see the fight is mostly over. Hakoda returns and tells her that they didn’t take anyone but Kya tells him that they were there for Katara and what she did. The parents agree to go through the village and find whoever betrayed them but also that Katara and Azula are officially banned from bending. The raiders do not return, (funding issues) and the tribe continues on with Hakoda eventually leaving for war with all the men. This time, Kya is there to hold her three kids as they watch their father disappear into the horizon.

5. Years later, Azula, Katara and Sokka are out fishing when they come across a familiar iceberg. They break Aang out and bring him back to the village where Kya is nervous about the introduction of an airbender into their village and, low and behold, a few days later the Fire Nation is back but this time it's not a man but a young boy. (Kya really wants to ask this child where his parents are but holds herself back). This time, Azula tries to fight Zuko by firebending her blue flames at him. (Zuko: You're a firebender? Who are you!? How could you betray your own nation?! Azula: My nation? The Water Tribe is my nation and, to answer your question, my name is Hinata. Zuko: You're a....a firebender in the South Pole. Azula: Wow. I'm glad the Fire Nation is teaching basic deduction skills.) Zuko can only think of one reason why a firebender would be in the South Pole because she's the Avatar. She must have hidden her tattoos which is how no one discovered her. Azula decides to go along with this in exchange for him leaving the village alone. (Of course Kya tries to stop this and begs Zuko not to take her daughter but Azula is still taken away). Aang arrives right after Azula is taken away and promises to help get her back. Katara, Sokka, Kya, Aang and Appa all fly off to go get Azula back which is where Aang is revealed as the Avatar and the group fly away, intending to go to the North Pole so Aang and Katara can learn waterbender.

6. I didn't have space for this but just as an extra add on, Kya does eventually tell Azula that she's not biologically related to them and her real family was from the Fire Nation. Azula does know this, but still wants to call Kya and Hakoda her mother and father which they are completely okay with. No one figures out though that Azula is part of the Royal Family until Ran and Shaw. The dragons are able to sense Azula's ancestry and, with the help of the Sun Warriors, tell Zuko and Azula that they're siblings and tell Azula what her original name was. Since Zuko is the only child of Ursa and Ozai, Azulon never ordered him dead and Ursa never left, meaning that she's there when Azula returns to the palace and knows who she is. Ursa is beyond thrilled to see her daughter again but there is some tension between her and Kya for obvious reasons. (Ursa: The...replacement mother can wait a few moments. I want to spend time with my daughter. Kya: I think Hinata can decide for herself. Ursa: Hinata? An odd name choice, don't you think? Kya: And naming her after a genocidal dictator was the best name in existence? Ursa: Azula is my daughter. She needs to spend time with the woman who gave birth to her. Kya: And the woman who apparently didn't have enough common sense to grab her two year old when a storm was approaching.) They do eventually get along but it's a tough few months.

[modernsleepingbeauty]

clowns

[candycryptids]

Fat Chuusday is top quality

[tarrynightss]

what happens when sukuna’s precious little jewel actually does get pregnant ???

I’m so glad you asked Anon hehe

Concubine!reader x Sukuna thoughts part 1 here

Tags; Pregnancy, Concubine!fem!Reader, smut below cut, breeding kink, size difference, bit of lactation kink

Sukuna is not surprised when it happens after all the hard work you both put into realizing his dream. He notices a subtle change in your smell, in the energy that pulsates around you when he caresses his hand over your body. A wide grin splits on his face as he lays his hand over your lower stomach, his chest sturdy against your back. He can’t help but nuzzle his face against the side of your head, inhaling more of your intoxicating smell. “It took.”. Those simple words have your eyes widening and your heart pounding in your chest, looking back at him to ensure you understood correctly. “You’re with child.”

He’s overjoyed with the prospect of having a baby, an heir of his own. He’s more affectionate than he ever was, taking time to settle you close against him, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the growing bump on your stomach. He even caresses your hair and kisses you in an attempt to comfort you when you feel pain, all of it shockingly gentle for Sukuna. In his mind there’s a simple explanation. You did as he wanted, and you continue to do your duty well, ensuring his child is safe and growing strong inside you even when it hurts you, so you should be rewarded for it.

Sukuna has always been wary of others, but with the pregnancy he turns outright paranoid. With the amount of enemies he has he worries that one might now lash out and target you and your baby. He focuses more on maintaining barriers around the house, has someone sample your food in front of him before it’s allowed to be served to you, and you never sleep alone anymore, him always curled protectively against your side. He also decides to dismiss a large portion of his harem, not trusting them to have your best interest in mind. He knows how jealous humans can get, had seen women scratch each others eyes out just to get ahead of the other, and so the only other concubines allowed to stay are the ones you claim are your friends. He still keeps a careful eye on them, only truly allowing it because he knows that when the time comes, you will need women to aid you through it, and he doesn’t trust random midwives more than he trusts them.

Sukuna will spoil you more than ever, making sure you are comfortable in whatever way he can offer. The pregnancy is clearly taking a toll on you, your stomach having grown large and heavy, and he almost worries the size difference between you that excited him so might become the death of you. He carries you basically everywhere the last two months, wrapping you up in his strong arms and doing anything you need of him. It’s quite ironic; you used to be the one helping him get dressed, fawning over your master, and now he does the opposite for you. Though you know it’s out of necessity, it still makes your heart flutter.

That Sukuna is stressed out when you finally give birth is putting it lightly. He waits outside as customary, trying to appear stoic but panicking on the inside at your pained screams. As soon as he hears a baby cry, he barges in, watching as another concubine places the child against your bare chest. He quickly finds himself on his knees beside you, brushing one large hand over your sweaty forehead to comfort you as the other joins you in holding your baby. It’s a daughter, but she’s healthy and strong, screaming her lungs out for a minute more before calming down. You laugh, and he breathes in deeply, knowing you both made it. Relieve makes him bend forward and press a kiss to your forehead, leaning back just in time to see the child’s eyes open. Four in total, just like her father, but with the scarlet stare replaced by the lovely color of your eyes.

It surprises everyone, including you, how much of an involved father he is, holding his baby as often as he can, a large finger prodding at her pouty lips till she smiles and coos. When you apologize to him for not giving him a son, he stares at you blankly, gesturing for you to rise from where you kneel before him, putting one hand on your cheek as two others still cradle your baby. “I don’t need your apology. The child is healthy, and you will give me a son next time.” The surprise is evident on your face as your eyes snap to his. Not only is he being benevolent, but he also just said he wants another child with you. You were afraid he would discard you like a broken toy after this, no longer interesting enough to him, but it seems you still manage to hold your position as his favorite, bringing a smile to your face.

It has to be said that Sukuna can’t take his eyes off of you from the moment that tiny bump appears on your stomach. There’s something about it, about you, that makes every fiber of his being crave touching you. Maybe it’s that famous pregnancy glow, or maybe it’s the fact that he knows he’s the one who fucked a baby into you. You’re his, more clearly now than ever, and it excites him beyond his own comprehension.

Luckily for Sukuna, the hormones coursing through your body have you seeking him out desperately throughout most of your pregnancy. The first few months he fucks you like he wants to ruin you, rutting into you like an addict, but as soon as you really start showing he becomes more gentle. He wouldn’t risk seriously hurting you or his child, often seating you in his lap as he thrusts into you, his mouth lapping at your sweet neck. You still mewl so sweetly for him, so eagerly, and he already knows he might want to do this all over again after you’ve given him his first child.

Sukuna takes such good care of his little jewel, even massaging your poor sore breasts, teasing your aching nipples with his tongue. The changes to your body have him drooling all over you, his hands constantly on your growing breasts or belly. It becomes a guilty pleasure of his to touch you there, enjoying just having you on his lap as he rolls your nipples between his fingers, loving the way you squirm against him.

You find some of the changes quite embarrassing, especially when your breasts start leaking milk as you enter your third trimester. He only grins wolfishly when he notices the wet patches on the fabric covering your breasts, tutting as he pulls you to his chambers. “You need to relieve the pressure, little one.” And of course your benevolent master knows just how to do it, massaging your breasts till more drops come out, making sure he’s right there to help you through it all. This definitely gets far worse after you’ve given birth and your milk fully comes in, aching painfully to be released, Sukuna hot on your heels after ensuring your baby is fed to ‘help’ you.

[pucksandpower]

Like … for Uber?

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: maybe you should have been a bit more specific when you told your parents that your boyfriend drives for a living

The aroma of roast chicken and freshly baked rolls wafts through the air as you nervously adjust the centerpiece on the dining room table. Your parents and younger brother are due home any minute, and you’ve spent the afternoon preparing for this pivotal family dinner. Tonight, they’ll finally meet your boyfriend.

The doorbell chimes, sending a jolt through your body. You hurry to the entrance, smoothing down your dress before opening the door. Max stands there, a bouquet of flowers in hand and an easy smile on his face.

“Hey,” he says, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “These are for your mother.”

“Thanks, you didn’t have to do that,” you reply, taking the flowers. “Come on in. My family should be here soon.”

As you lead Max into the living room, you can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. You haven’t exactly been forthcoming about Max’s career, telling your family only that he’s “a driver.” It wasn’t a lie, per se, but you knew they assumed he worked for a ride-sharing service or delivery company.

“Nice place,” Max comments, looking around. “Very ... homey.”

You laugh. “Is that a polite way of saying it’s nothing like your fancy Monaco apartment?”

“No, I mean it,” he insists, pulling you close. “It feels lived-in. Comfortable.”

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway interrupts your moment. “That’ll be them,” you say, your stomach doing somersaults. “Ready?”

Max squeezes your hand. “Always.”

Your parents burst through the door, arms laden with grocery bags. Your mother’s face lights up when she spots Max.

“Oh, you must be the boyfriend!” She exclaims, setting down her bags to give him a hug. “You’re even more handsome than Y/N said.”

Your father steps forward, extending a hand. “Nice to meet you, son. Heard a lot about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” Max replies with a chuckle.

As introductions are made, you can’t help but notice your parents exchanging curious glances. You know they’re dying to ask about Max’s job, but they’re too polite to broach the subject right away.

“Dinner smells amazing,” your father says, sniffing the air appreciatively. “Shall we sit down?”

Everyone gathers around the table, and you begin to serve the food. The conversation flows easily at first, with your parents asking Max about his family and where he grew up. But as the main course is cleared away, you can sense the questions they’re itching to ask.

Your mother finally breaks. “So, Max, how long have you been driving?”

Max looks momentarily confused. “Uh, professionally? Since I was 17, I guess.”

Your father’s eyebrows shoot up. “Seventeen? Isn’t that a bit young to start with Uber?”

“Uber?” Max repeats, bewildered. “I don’t-”

You quickly interject, “Dad, Max doesn’t work for Uber.”

“Oh, my mistake,” your father says, looking embarrassed. “Lyft, then?”

Max turns to you, a mix of amusement and confusion on his face. “Schatje, I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”

Before you can explain, your mother chimes in. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, dear. Driving for those apps is honest work. We’re just curious about what it’s like.”

Max opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off. “Mom, Dad, I think I need to clarify something. When I said Max was a driver, I didn’t mean-”

The sound of the front door slamming interrupts you. Your younger brother, Tommy, comes barreling into the dining room, out of breath and wide-eyed.

“Sorry I’m late, I was at practice and-” He stops short, his jaw dropping as he spots Max. “Holy shit! You’re Max Verstappen!”

The room falls silent. Your parents look from Tommy to Max, then back to Tommy, confusion etched on their faces.

“Language, Tommy,” your mother scolds automatically, before adding, “Wait, what did you say?”

Tommy is practically vibrating with excitement. “That’s Max Verstappen! He’s not just any driver, he’s a Formula 1 World Champion!”

Your father turns to Max, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief. “Is this true?”

Max nods, looking slightly sheepish. “Yes, sir. I’m a Formula 1 driver for Red Bull Racing.”

The silence that follows is deafening. Your mother is the first to recover, letting out a nervous laugh. “Oh my, and here we were asking you about Uber! We must look so foolish.”

“Not at all,” Max assures her, his smile warm and genuine. “It’s actually quite refreshing. Most people I meet already know everything about me.”

Your father leans forward, his interest piqued. “So, Formula 1 ... that’s the racing with the really fast cars, right?”

Max nods, launching into an explanation of the sport. As he talks, you can see your parents becoming more and more fascinated. Tommy, meanwhile, is peppering Max with questions about his latest races and rival drivers.

“I can’t believe my sister is dating Max Verstappen,” Tommy says for the third time, shaking his head in disbelief.

You feel a blush creeping up your neck. “Tommy, please ...”

Max reaches under the table to squeeze your hand. “It’s alright, liefje. I’m just glad they know now. No more secrets, yeah?”

Your mother stands up suddenly. “Oh, goodness! I completely forgot about dessert. I’ll just go fetch it.”

As she hurries to the kitchen, your father clears his throat. “So, Max, I have to ask ... is it dangerous? All that racing, I mean.”

Max considers the question carefully. “There are, of course, risks. But the cars are incredibly safe these days, and we take every precaution possible.”

Your mother returns with a homemade apple pie, setting it down in the center of the table. “I hope you like pie, Max. It’s an old family recipe.”

“It looks delicious,” Max says sincerely. “Thank you for going to all this trouble.”

As your mother serves the pie, the conversation shifts to more casual topics. You find yourself relaxing, relieved that the truth is finally out and that your family seems to be taking it well.

“So, how did you two meet?” Your father asks, between bites of pie.

You and Max exchange a glance, both smiling at the memory. “It was at a charity event in London,” you begin.

Max jumps in, “She spilled her drink all over my shoes.”

“Max!” You exclaim, swatting his arm playfully. “I did not spill it, you bumped into me!”

He laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Maybe we bumped into each other. Either way, I’m glad it happened.”

Your mother sighs contentedly. “That’s so romantic. And now look at you two, so happy together.”

Tommy rolls his eyes. “Gross, Mom. Can we talk about racing again?”

The rest of the evening passes in a blur of laughter and conversation. As the night winds down, you find yourself in the kitchen with your mother, washing dishes while Max chats with your father and Tommy in the living room.

“He’s a lovely boy,” your mother says softly, handing you a plate to dry. “I can see why you like him so much.”

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “Thanks, Mom. I’m sorry I wasn’t more upfront about his job. I just ... I wanted you to get to know him as a person first, you know?”

Your mother nods understandingly. “I get it, sweetheart. It must be hard, dating someone so famous. But from what I’ve seen tonight, he seems very down-to-earth.”

“He is,” you agree, glancing towards the living room where you can hear Max’s laughter mingling with your father’s. “He’s just Max to me.”

As you finish up in the kitchen, Max appears in the doorway. “Need any help?”

Your mother shoos him away. “Absolutely not, you’re our guest. Go relax.”

Max insists on helping anyway, drying the last few dishes as you and your mother put them away. The domesticity of the moment strikes you, and you find yourself imagining a future where scenes like this are commonplace.

Later, as you walk Max to his car, the cool night air nips at your skin. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close.

“That went well, I think,” he says, a hint of relief in his voice.

You nod, leaning into him. “Better than I expected. Sorry about the Uber mix-up.”

Max laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Don’t be. It was kind of fun, actually. Your family is great, by the way.”

“They liked you too,” you assure him. “Even before they knew you were famous.”

He stops at his car, turning to face you. His eyes are soft in the moonlight as he cups your face in his hands. “That’s all that matters to me. That they like me for who I am, not what I do.”

You lean in, pressing your lips to his in a gentle kiss. “I love you, Max Verstappen, Uber driver extraordinaire.”

He grins against your lips. “And I love you, Y/N Y/L/N, girl who definitely did not spill her drink on my shoes.”

[teapartyprincess4two]

Talkative- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Yapper!reader x Boyfriend!Matt

classification: SFW & NSFW headcannons

inspiration: request

warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship

summary: head cannons of Matt with a talkative, yapper girlfriend!

Talkative- C. Sturniolo (Chris’s Version)

Talkative- N. Sturniolo (Nick’s Version)

—

☆ SFW

It’s no secret that you love to talk, you can ramble on about topic after topic and never run out of things to say. Matt loves listening to you, whether you’re retelling your day or just discussing a topic you find interesting.

☆ you always ask him rhetorical questions in between your stories, “Okay, but can you believe she said that?” But you never give him enough time to respond.

☆ he just nods his head and hums in response, confused with all the characters of the story.

☆ when you’re watching a movie you always start asking questions about the characters or commenting on the scene.

☆ “why did they do that?” or “wow that’s a cute dress, I really like that.”

☆ most times he responds just so you know he’s listening, but other times he’ll ignore you because he’s too immersed in the movie.

☆ “Y/n I don’t fucking know, this is my first time watching this movie too,” and “That is a cute dress, baby. You’d look nice in it.”

☆ you’re ALWAYS last to finish your meal, mostly because you keep talking in between bites.

☆ he listens intently, responding in between mouthfuls of food with small “uh huh’s” and “yup’s.”

☆ by the end of your stories you’re usually not hungry anymore, so he eats your leftovers while you start yet another story.

☆ when you guys go through drive throughs he knows to just sit as far back into the drivers seat as possible.

☆ you’re leaning over him, chatting with the worker and somehow managing to learn their whole life story before you can even order.

☆ or when you’re going somewhere new and he needs the GPS you’ll constantly talk over it

☆ after missing like five exits, he begins to find it annoying

☆ “Babe, shhhhh,” he’ll smother your mouth with his hand while he grips the wheel with the other.

☆ that never stops you though, you just mumble from behind his hand.

☆ you’re such a good story teller that he can imagine everything you say.

☆ your stories have him dying of laughter, and it’s even funnier that you don’t laugh, you just continue telling the stories like normal.

☆ by the end of your story his face and ribs hurt from laughing so much, “Holy fuck that was hilarious.”

☆ when you say outlandish things he stares at you in shock, “Y/n! You can’t say that!”

☆ you just stare at him blankly and continue voicing your opinions.

☆ he looks at anyone who tells you to shut up with the ugliest, meanest stank face.

☆ you talk to EVERYONE whether it be in the checkout line in the grocery store or in the waiting room at the doctors office.

☆ Matt just turns away for one second and then when he looks back at you, you’re talking to an elderly lady and walking in the complete opposite direction.

☆ “Aw Matt, she said her cat died.”

☆ “Y/n, the cashier asked for your card.”

☆ “Oh, right! So sorry about that-”

☆ “You know what? I’ll pay for it,” he cuts you off before your rambling can distract you again.

☆ on the odd days that you’re quiet, he’ll know somethings wrong.

☆ you’re just sitting on the couch, scrolling through Netflix on the TV or typing away mindlessly on your laptop.

☆ “What’s wrong with you?” he says abrasively, like if he’s upset that you’re quiet.

☆ you’ll just shake your head, choosing to remain silent.

☆ “Did somebody do something to you? Why are you so quiet?” he’s ready to fight whoever made you upset.

☆ “I’m just tired,” you mumble, followed with a quick shrug.

☆ He doesn’t pry, he just lays with you and waits until your mood picks up so he can listen to more stories.

☆ if he ever starts telling someone a story you’re quick to interrupt, “no that’s not what happened!”

☆ he playfully rolls his eyes and lets you take the spotlight.

☆ NSFW

Although Matt loves listening to you talk, sometimes it becomes too much. So, he has to get creative and think of ways to shut you up.

☆ the movie is getting good and you won’t stop talking, asking about the characters and the storyline.

☆ next thing you know you’re on your knees with Matt’s dick in your mouth.

☆ he’ll let you do all the work as he continues to watch the movie in silence.

☆ sometimes you’re a little too friendly with strangers.

☆ Matt’s not usually the jealous type, but he knows that guys get the wrong idea when you’re talking to them and that they mistake your friendliness for flirting.

☆ he’ll pull you away and take you to a secluded area, “we gotta go.”

☆ “Wait but I wasn’t finished talk-“

☆ “we gotta go, Y/n.”

☆ then he’s fucking you and making you talk to him through it, “C’mon, I thought you weren’t finished talking.”

☆ you’re forced to babble your way through it, each thrust fogging your brain more and more.

☆ other times he’ll let you use your words to praise him.

☆ like when he’s eating you out, he just wants to hear you say how good he’s doing.

☆ “Yes, baby, right there. You’re making me feel so good.”

☆ after, he’ll make you ride him and whisper sweet nothings into his ear.

☆ “You feel so good, baby. So big, I can’t take it.”

☆ your words are always enough to send him into a frenzy.

☆ he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and bucking into you until he cums.

☆ when you guys are done having sex, he’ll cuddle into your side and lay his head on your chest while you play with his hair.

☆ these are the moments when he talks and you just listen, only chiming in occasionally.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

YAP 🗣️YAP 🗣️YAP🗣️

thank you for this request I luv that I’m cementing my legacy as a certified yapper 😏

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

[giuliettagaltieri]

Not Her Man

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Childhood friend!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: Feathers fall gracefully slow

Warning: Girlrotting

Word Count: 3193

Part 1 • Part 3

You were always scared to do drugs.  

You saw Rafe at his highs, you were with him, keeping him from doing anything stupid like when he was so sure he could backflip from Tanneyhill’s rooftop and land on the grass perfectly. 

But you also wondered how difficult it was for him to get clean.  To suffer from withdrawals.  And as you lie on your fur carpet, staring at the glimmering crystals of your chandelier, with your closet half emptied and scattered all around your room, along with rolling wine bottles on the polished hardwood floor of your bedroom, you think you might have understood just a little.

Blocking him was the hardest thing you have ever done in your life, especially when it was your routine to giggle over whatever interaction you had through text that day.  The itch to open his account for any update made you want to bind your hands together.

Your parents are out of the country, busy overseeing their business, forgetting to oversee their daughter.  Your maids were there for you, at least they try to be.  They bring you food on schedule, even sliding in a few scoops of ice cream every now and then in your room when your sobs start to echo around the halls.

Rafe tried to contact you multiple times.  First, through your phone, but you blocked him.  Next, he tried to throw pebbles at your window, but your seventy-six year old gardener fired a shotgun at him, thinking that he was a burglar.  Next, he tried a different approach, he was sending you gigantic bouquets of your favorite flowers, making the hallway leading to your room look like a wedding set up, the flowers perfumed the entire house too, drawing a concerning amount of bees.  One epipen to your chef’s thigh later, Rafe stops sending them.

He never really does anything right.  All he does is mess up, create more problems for himself.  You almost wanted to give in, but you remind yourself of the things he said.  Anger and hurt quickly replaces pity.

A familiar chime of your phone had you groaning.  Your friends are probably going to have another attempt of making you step out of your room, like inviting you to have your nails done or shop, just to get your mind off of Rafe.

You just let the ringtone end and you go back to staring at the chandelier, wondering if you’ll be quick enough to get out of the way if it somehow falls.  Before you can plan a strategic roll, your phone rings again.

Blindly reaching underneath the scattered pillows, you finally locate the buzzing device.  You answer without looking at the caller ID. 

“Y/N speaking.”  You mumble lazily.

“Hey, girlie.”  There goes the high-pitched voice of your friend.  “Sooo, the girls and I-hush!”  You hear a bunch of girls giggling behind the line and your brows crease together in annoyance.  “We’re going on a party tonight and we’re thinking that maybe you’d liketocomewithus?”

You play with the lace of your dress, eyes just following the patterns when you hear your name being called again over the phone.

“I’m not in the mood for parties.” 

“You are never in the mood for anything anymore.”  She whines behind the line.  Her tone prompts you to sit up to pick up the stale wine you left out in the open for too long.  Taking a sip and ignoring the thin coat of dust it caught after you ransacked your closet for something that made you look confident, only for you to end up squeezing in the dress that Rafe got you as a present for your 13th birthday.  He didn’t pick it out for you, of course, but it still made you all fizzy and bubbly and excited inside.

You put down the wine to scratch at the waistband that is digging on the skin of your under bust, the fabric being stretched beyond its capacity.

“I know.”  You tried to sound apologetic.  “I just can’t, okay?”

She sighs, making you let out a grateful sigh.  There’s still some ceiling viewing you had to get back to.

“I’m picking you up at seven.”  She speaks with finality and before you can answer, she continues.  “Please don’t let that awful man get the satisfaction of knowing that he has this much effect on you.”  You can hear her begging behind the phone.  She and the other girls are just looking out for you.

With an unwilling heart, you decide to get on your feet, your socked foot nearly slipping the moment it touches the wooden floor.  Cursing, you finally crouch on the piled up clothes you threw earlier. 

“Fine, I’ll come.”  You roll your eyes.  “Dresscode?”

You hear an airy chuckle and you can imagine her pinching your cheeks if you were within her reach.  “Party’s open to all, Kooks or Pogues.  In the community beach house.  You dress however you like.  I’ll match your vibe, if you’d like.”

This makes a smile creep on your lips.  She’s definitely on the top 10 list of the most annoying people you know but you thank God everyday for a friend like her.  “You know I love you, right?”

She snorts before bursting out in a fit of laughter.  “Duh.  I love you too.”

“See you later.”  You grin.  “Tell the girls I’m coming too.”

“Sure, see you!” 

You hang up and get started on searching for the right outfit.  Well, there’s the classic white flowy dresses, but everybody wears them.  You could wear a short and a cute top, show some belly?  Blech, you’re not exactly in one of your maneater moods.  But perhaps if you covered it with that oversized white pinstriped polo, it could work?  Yeah, something casual yet put together.  It’s not like you’re dressing to impress anybody, or somebody in particular, you’d prioritize comfort over fashion tonight.

A knock on your bedroom door pulls you from your thoughts.  With a shrug, you throw your chosen clothes on your bed.

“Coming.”  You call while trudging over to open the door.  There stood your maid, she was looking anxious, wringing her wrinkly hands.  “What is it?”

She glances at your odd choice of clothing before she looks away so as to not make you uncomfortable.  “Well, uhm, Sir Cameron is here again, miss.  He’s waiting for you downstairs, in the drawing room.”

You press your lips in a firm line.  “Tell him I’m not here.”

Your maid smiles apologetically.  “He…he saw you in your bedroom window before he came in, miss.”

Huffing, you tap your feet impatiently.  “Just tell him I’m busy.”

“He said you’ll say that.”  She mutters, amusement in her tone.  “And he asked us to tell you that he can wait.”

You close your eyes to keep them from rolling.  “Whatever, he can stay as long as he likes, but I’m not coming down to meet him.”  You push the door a little wider and your maid’s eyes widen at the state of your room.  “I’m sorry, I know you’re busy but can you help me clean up?”

The rest of the afternoon was spent tidying up your room. 

It was dark out, a couple of minutes past seven when your phone buzzed.  Knowing that it’s your girlfriends, you pick your bag, filled with the usual party necessities and head downstairs.  It’s a habit, assigning yourself as the responsible friend who stays sober to look after the others.

You are slipping in the pearl bracelet your grandmother got for you last Christmas when you hear your name being called and in instinct, you turn around.

“Oh, right.”  You say with a tone that is drier than the Sahara desert.  “You’re here.”

Rafe’s standing just outside your drawing room, his hands falling to his side.

“Yeah.”  He spoke awkwardly, his eyes glancing at your outfit, familiarity crossing them before he looked at your eyes again.  “I was waiting for you.”

You exhale softly and he just stood there, waiting for your reaction.

“I know.”  You say simply.  “Gotta go.”  You start walking again to your door.

“Wait, Y/N.” He easily catches up.  “You’re…you’re coming to the party, right?”  He asks hopefully.

“Yes.”  You respond without looking at him.

Rafe smiles but it quickly dissipates when he sees a different car waiting for you.  “Hold on, I can drive you there.”  He says quickly, his hand gripping yours just to get you to listen to him.  “I can drive you to the party.”  He says in an uncharacteristically sheepish way.

For a second, you look at him, really look at him.  His smile grows wide.  He missed having your eyes on him.  You’re his best friend, and he’s used to doing everything with you by his side.  He also liked how dependent you were on him too, always asking for his approval.  You have a bit of an overbearing attitude but he would be lying if he’ll say that he doesn’t miss you doting on him too.  Perhaps you’re not the only one who’s dependent on this odd friendship you both have.

“No, thank you.”  You say before pulling your hand away with a sharp look thrown his way.  He watches you walk away to greet your friends.  He’s still stuck there, staring, even after the car drives away.

He doesn’t understand it.

You’re the emotional one, why are you doing so well without him?  You never go to parties with other people, it was always him that you stick close to.  Clinging on him, pulling him to the dance floor when he’s about to do a line of coke, or accidentally knocking his cup when he’s had too much drinks.

Running a hand through his face, Rafe decides to hop on his car and follow you to the party.  You’ll be in the same space as him in the next few hours.  He’ll get another chance there.  He’s certain of it.

He didn’t get the chance.

With you by his side all the time, you memorized his set of activities at parties and you evaded him perfectly.  Rafe decided that it was best to stand by the punch table.  You’d get thirsty eventually, and he’ll be there waiting if you do.

On the other side of the house, farthest from Rafe, there you sit by the porch swing, admiring the push and pull of the waves.  The party was at its climax and everybody was cramped inside the house, dancing and drinking, or doing unholy activities.  You don’t know how you managed to slip away from your friends but you’re glad you did.  You needed the fresh air.

You’re just starting to get comfortable when a man stumbles out the door.  You watch him struggle to keep himself up.  He looked lost? Or just flat out drunk.  You watch in amusement as he scratches his blonde head, he must be having a whiplash from all the blinding neon lights inside and suddenly his vision switches to the bright light provided by the LEDs. 

His feet twist and he starts to fall to the side, your head tilting to follow his fall.  You wince when you hear the loud thud of his body hitting the floor, followed by his muffled but loud groaning.

“Motherfu-”  He sits on the floor, his legs sprawled out in front of him as he shakes his head like a dog.

“You alright, JJ?”  You chuckle.

He whips his head to you, cursing again when his vision spins.  “Y/N?”  He drawls out while rubbing his eyes.  “You saw everything?”

Still laughing, you get up to crouch next to him.  “I did.”  You smile when he groans out again.  “Are you okay?”

He props up a knee and rests an arm there, he looks buzzed, his eyes are heavily lidded as he stares off into the ocean.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”  He glances at you.  “Well, this is a strange sight.”

“What is?”  You mumble as you look away from him, deciding to play dumb.

He shrugs animatedly, hands gesturing to you and the entire space of the porch.  “Usually, wherever you are, your boyfriend is not that far behind.”  He points a thumb behind him.  “And if I wasn’t imagining it, I’m pretty sure I just saw him brooding over the drinks.”

You chuckle dryly as you bring your knees to your chest.  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

JJ looks at you with an unimpressed face.  “That’s all you heard.”

Playfully punching his shoulder, you sigh.  “We fought.”

He frowns, back straightening immediately.  “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”  It’s kind of sweet how your words seemed to have sobered him really quick.

“No!  No, he didn’t.”  You reply right away.  “Well, at least not physically.”

You watch him grimace.  “Outside physical fights, I have little to no idea how to respond.”

“That’s okay, JJ.  I don’t wanna talk about it, anyway.”

He gives you a boyish grin, as if to reassure you before scratching at his jaw, your eyes mindlessly follow his movements and you see a scratch.

“You’re hurt.”  You tell him, pointing at your own jaw.

“Huh?”  He touches his jaw and winces.  “Ow!  Must’ve scratched myself when I…uhm.”

“When you decided to attack the floor.”  You finish for him and he clears his throat.  “You’ll have to disinfect it.”

“Pfft, it’s fine.”  He shakes his head.  “It’s just a scratch.”

But you are already grabbing your bag by the swing and you return with a small kit.

“I forgot to bring wipes.”  You mumble before crouching down in front of him.  He swallows at your close proximity.  “Come on, JJ.  It’s just antibacterial cream.”

He hesitantly shows you his face and you gently apply the cream, tutting when he dramatically pulls away.

You grab his face and tilt it slightly and JJ squeezes his eyes.

“It fucking stings.”  He nearly whines, making you roll your eyes.

“Don’t be a baby!”  You huff and he stays still for a second, allowing you to smear the cream evenly and he rolls away from you as soon as you’re done.

JJ was muttering about God knows what while you’re busy putting your stuff away.  When you sit next to him again, he’s much calmer, a lazy smile back on his face again.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

You throw him a playful glare.  “You’re welcome.”

He touches the scratch and you almost tell him off but he quickly pulls his hand away. 

“Why didn’t Cameron make you his girl?”

You blow out a big sigh.  “He doesn’t like me.”

“Bullshit.”  He laughs but he clears his throat when you look at him unamused.  “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”  You smile at him genuinely before averting your eyes.  “I wouldn’t blame him.  I mean, you saw how I can be.”  You chuckle this time but there’s no humor on JJ’s face, he’s looking at you rather sadly.  “I care too much and everybody suffocates around me.”

“I don’t.”  He says quickly.  “I was just being dramatic earlier.”  He rubs his nape.  “I’m not used to having people tend to me, I mostly just do it myself.”  He seeks your eyes and you finally look at him. 

You hear a creak behind you but before you can look, JJ cups your face to keep you from breaking your eye contact, making your breath hitch.

“I liked being taken care of like that.”  He whispers and your lips part slightly.

“JJ.”  You say breathlessly and he grins, his face leaning dangerously close to you.  “You’re drunk.”

He gently bites his bottom lip and you have to look away from his blatant flirting.  “I’m sober enough to kiss, I promise.”

This…this isn’t right.  

You gently push him away and his lips immediately form a pout.  “You’re such a kid, JJ.”

He clicks his tongue and angrily stoops as he glares at the ocean.  “You had no idea how long it took me to build the courage to do that.”

“Five minutes?”  You jokingly bump his shoulders, making his act break at the edges, a smile threatening to crack on his lips.  “Seriously, J, I can’t kiss drunk guys.  It’s unethical.”

He mimics you in a childish voice and buries his face on his palms harshly.  He turns to you again, with his hair disheveled and sticking to his forehead and red blotches appearing on some areas of his face.  “I’m not as drunk as you think I am.”  The way he glances at your lips had your throat drying up.  “I really wanted to kiss you.”  Aside from Rafe, you have little to no experience with the male attention and frankly, you don’t know what to do.

You place a hand on his shoulder and stiffly pat it twice.  “You’ll get over it.”

JJ looks at you exasperatedly.  “You’re taking this too lightly, this is my feelings we are talking about.”

You stifle a laughter.  “Oh, so you have feelings for me.”  You raise a brow at him and he nods his head enthusiastically.

“Every guy on this island has a thing for you.”  He says animatedly.  “If it wasn’t for your bodyguard, we would have made our move long ago.”

You are deeply flattered, you can’t resist the girlish smile from tugging on your lips, your cheeks slowly heating up.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

He looks deeply offended and places a hand on his chest.

“You’re the ultimate dream girl, stupid!”  He dodges a punch from you.  “You’re like the total package.  You’re sweet, and smart, you’re also very pretty, you can be funny too when you let loose.”  He wiggles his eyebrows at you and this pulls a laughter from you, a real, genuine laughter that had your shoulders shaking.

“When are you gonna get serious, J?”  Wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, you get up.  “Wait here, I’ll get us a drink.”

He gives you a two finger salute before lying smack down on the floor, with his arms spread out.  You shake your head, chuckling when you open the door.

And your hair stands on end.

There stood the very person you have been avoiding the entire night.

But for once, he isn’t wearing a scowl or a condescending cocky smile.

He was looking at you like a man defeated and broken.

“Rafe.”  You whisper as you reach for him but you stop yourself before your skin can touch.  He looks at your hand and then your eyes.  You don’t know if it’s the trick of light but you could have sworn his eyes are glassy.

“Hey, Y/N, everything alright?”  JJ calls.

Rafe glances at JJ and then back at you, he nods slowly as he takes a step back.  Your heart aches as you watch him take another step away from you but you will yourself not to follow.  He runs a hand on his mouth and he turns away from you.

You stare at his back as he leaves, torn between choosing your own pride or running after him.  For what seemed like hours, you stood there, frozen.  Still lost in the onslaught of emotions that surged through you.

Not Your Girl • His Girl

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。YEARS LATER — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy au!)

contents. you and your rich husband, sitting and eating sushi years later on your wedding day. the end of one chapter, but the start of a new one. enjoy your happy rich boy gojo ending. with love, tee bee <3

satoru’s eyes are pretty when the sun sets, almost green instead of that usual icy blue—you can’t help but stare. it’s shamelessly, even. you watch as he brings the sushi to his lips, pausing just before he can take the bite as he notices your eyes on him.

“if you’re so busy staring at me, you might not notice it when your food is gone,” he hums, grinning cheekily at you.

you snort, rolling your eyes as you shake your head. “oh yeah? then i’ll just make you buy me more.”

“first day and you’re already admitting to marrying me for my wallet?”

you laugh—it’s a free, bright sound that he has memorized from plenty of experience. and it’s his turn to stare as the sun settles in the crinkles by your eyes, years and years of laughter and smiles evident in the lines of your skin. beautiful, he think, you’ve always been so, so painfully beautiful.

your wedding dress is expensive. a pretty, flattering little thing. you buy it yourself, despite his protests. some years ago, you’d have stared wistfully at the price tag and considered the purchase in another life. you’ve come a long way since then—satoru is proud. so proud, he feels an ache building in his chest from the way things have changed as time crept past the two of you.

not a bad ache, perhaps. a dull throb of nostalgia that settles under his heart, in that spot he has saved just for you.

“i don’t need your wallet, you idiot,” you grin, reaching over with your chopsticks to steal from his roll. he lets you, just like he always used to when you were younger.

satoru thinks now, if he could, he’d love to pat his younger self on the back. the version of himself that used to watch you walk out of class without sparing him a glance, the version of himself that ached so badly for a chance with you, he’d collect stars from the sky to trade for an ounce of your love. he’d tell his younger self that he made it—that he’s sitting here, years later with his grandmother’s ring on your hand, eating sushi go after your wedding.

for old times sake, you’d told him when you asked to stop by, we always celebrated with sushi go when we were younger, remember?

as if he’d forget, he wanted to laugh. but he drives over anyway, parking the car in the same old spot as he used to. this time, there’s newly wed! written on the back of the window—and the words miraculously enough crossed out underneath. (he thinks that’s courtesy of shoko, but she doesn’t fess up, and suguru insists it doesn’t matter. soon enough, he’ll get to the bottom of it.)

“are you sure?” he hums, “you’ll have a lot of fun with it, i promise.”

“i think i’d rather have fun with you,” you hum, giving him a small wink as you take a sip from your soda, making his lips curl into a wide grin.

“oh, isn’t that sweet,” he drawls, “i’m a lucky guy.”

“maybe if you’re on your best behavior, you’ll get extra lucky later tonight.”

“yeah?” he chuckles, folding his hands as he sits up straighter and nods seriously, “i’m a good boy.”

“you’re anything but that, toru,” you snort. and then you soften, staring at him as you reach over and grab his hand. he lets you, lacing his fingers with yours as your thumb brushes over his knuckles.

years and years worth of love resides in between your skin. the first time your hands touched him, you didn’t want him the way he needed you to. then one day, they touched him hesitantly, carefully, slowly exploring him with cautious gentleness. eventually they touched him like he was the world pressed in your palms, heavy with the weight of being your everything.

he likes being yours. more than he likes you being his—he’s always had more than enough. but there’s something about giving himself that feels better than taking, better than wanting, better than having.

satoru has always loved you. he thinks the first day you glared at him, he was doomed from the start. he thinks right now, as you stare at him with fondness, he’s even more doomed now.

he doesn’t mind it, not even a little.

“hey,” he murmurs, making you raise a brow for him to continue, “i’m your husband now.”

“i know,” you nod in amusement, “we just got married…like two hours ago. i didn’t forget that quickly.”

“good,” he wipes his forehead in faux relief, “i was getting worried for a second.”

“you’re too much,” you roll your eyes, squeezing his hand delicately.

“now that we’re officially married,” he starts, grinning cheekily as he bats his lashes, “we should list all the things we love about each other. in alphabetic order. you go first, of course.”

“i don’t have to alphabetize it.”

“why? you numbered it or something? is it organized by importance? i’ll accept that too, i suppose.”

“well, there’s only one thing,” you tease.

he huffs, grumbling a petulant, “so mean. all these years and you can only think of one thing? can’t you be a little nice to me in our wedding day?”

“i’ve worked smarter, not harder,” you shrug, “i’ve condensed all my reasons down to one thing.”

“and what would that be?” he pouts.

“everything.”

“that’s cheesy,” he snorts, but there’s a flush on his cheeks that makes you grin, snickering as you lean over and poke at his cheek.

“you’ll just have to deal with it. you’re my husband, after all.”

“did you ever think about it? when we were kids?” he asks softly, staring off at a young couple in the distance with a tiny grin. the boy pulls out the chair for the girl, pushing her in and tripping slightly on his way to his own seat. satoru chuckles softly at the sight.

“think about what?”

“us,” he mumbles, “getting married some day. before we got serious, at least.”

“i don’t know,” you admit, “i didn’t even think i’d date you, to be fair.”

“you hated me,” he pretends to sniffle, “you wanted me dead. you wanted me to blow up into smithereens and leave my poor mother a grieving mess, didn’t you?”

“maybe not then, but i might now,” you sigh tiredly.

“well, i knew i was going to marry you since the first time you insulted me,” he nods proudly, earning a loud chuckle from you.

“you were a little freak back in the day,” you laugh, “i believe it. only you’d be romanced by degradation.”

“baby,” he huffs, glaring at you (his eyes are soft, playful, even. so sweetly affectionate, your teeth could rot), “you should appreciate a man seeing the best at you. even when you put him through the ringer.”

he almost regrets saying it when your hand pulls away from his, but then one by one, your palms reach over to cradle his cheeks, brushing a thumb along his soft, familiar skin as you stare at him like he’s the only thing that matters.

he is, you make him believe. he’s the only thing that matters. the center of your universe. he fought tooth and nail to get there, of course, but he has no intentions of leaving.

ever.

“i will always appreciate you,” you say softly, eyes watering as you swallow thickly, chuckling when a small tear slips from your eyes. “thank you for loving me, satoru. even when it was hard. even when you had to fight to do it. no one has loved me like that.”

“aw don’t start with the waterworks now,” he mutters, looking away and blinking suspiciously enough that you suspect his own eyes are just as teary, “we can’t have you crying for me already—that’s for later.”

“never any decorum with you,” you huff out a breathless laugh.

his thumb reaches over to swipe at your tear, pinching your cheek affectionately as he grins. it’s toothy, boyish, hopelessly and completely in love. even back then, and even right now. he’s always so in love. it’s you—always, from the day you first rejected him to the day you said yes when he got in one knee, it’s been you.

“thanks for loving me too, sweetheart,” he whispers, his own voice choking a bit as he swallows, “it can’t be easy. i’m a handful.”

“at least you’re self aware,” you snicker.

satoru beams—and he’s yours. your rich, spoiled, beautiful boy. all yours to love for the rest of your rich, spoiled, beautiful days.

i cried writing this. what a man he is truly

[incognit0slut]

Hi author, can you write one where soft Dom Spencer (our beloved) is needy after work and tries to distract reader while she's cooking?

Heat of the Moment

warnings/notes: I’m gonna be honest with you, I don’t have the energy to write smut but I will write the build-up scene to it. So suggestive content (MDNI) with a sprinkle of fluff and a whole lot of Spencer being horny. (This is also very self-indulgent because I fucking love mac and cheese, and if any of you hate cheese in general, I’m afraid we can’t be friends)

Cooking isn’t exactly your best skill. Just follow the recipe, they say, and you do, although following step-by-step instructions isn’t the same as having a natural knack for it. No matter how closely you measure the spices or time in the oven, something always seems a bit off. A little bit overcooked. A little bit burnt. But Spencer, bless your boyfriend’s heart, never complains.

“What smells so good?”

You look over your shoulder to see him strolling into the kitchen, still in his work clothes. Loose dress pants, rolled-up sleeves, top buttons undone. The tie you help him put on this morning is missing.

“You don’t always have to do that, you know?” You say as you turn back toward the stove. You stir the creamy, slightly lumpy mac and cheese, the thick sauce clinging to the pasta in a way that looks almost perfect, if not for the slightly scorched edges.

“Do what?”

“Pretend it’s amazing,” you reply with a sigh. “I know it’s not.”

You feel his presence behind you. “I’m not pretending.”

“You haven’t even tasted it yet.”

He peers over your shoulder. “I don’t need to. I trust you.”

“You trust me too much.”

“Just as much as you do,” he explains, placing his hands on your waist. “You trust me too, don’t you?”

“Trusting you to carry a gun isn’t the same as trusting your taste buds,” you reply, slightly leaning into him. Your back lands perfectly against his chest. “One requires skill, the other… a strong stomach.”

He gives your waist a gentle squeeze as his laughter fills the small space between you. You like his laugh, it’s warm and infectious. It makes you smile even though you’re feeling a bit self-conscious about your cooking.

“Well, I’ve survived both so far. So I think I’m doing pretty well.”

You stare at the pot, watching the mac and cheese bubble slightly. “What do you think the chances are of us getting food poisoning from this?”

Spencer gently pulls your hair out of the way, his fingers lightly brushing against your neck. He leans in and presses a soft kiss. “I’d say the chances are low,” he murmurs. “You're always too hard on yourself.”

You laugh softly, leaning back into him. “Maybe, but I just don’t want to mess this up.”

His hands start to wander, tracing gentle patterns on your waist before sliding around to your stomach. “You won’t mess it up,” he assures you. He lets his lips trail down your neck. “And even if you did, I wouldn’t mind.”

You feel a rush of warmth that has nothing to do with the stove. “Really?”

“It’s already good because you made it.”

You can feel his body pressing closer, his warmth enveloping as he lingers on the sensitive spot just below your ear. “Spencer, are you trying to distract me?”

You can practically feel the smile on your skin. He shakes his head, the slight roughness of his stubble brushing against your neck as he murmurs, “Not distracting, just appreciating.”

His denial is playful, his tone light, but his actions tell a different story. His hands continue their exploration, now slipping underneath your shirt. His palm is warm and slightly rough as it makes contact with your skin. He traces gentle patterns along your stomach, moving so slowly and as if he’s savoring every inch.

You feel your pulse quicken, each beat echoing in your ears. “Baby…”

“Hm?” he hums, and your breath catches when his thumb brushes just below your breasts.

“If you keep this up, there might not be any food for dinner.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

You try to focus on the pot, where the sauce has begun to form a thicker layer at the bottom, slightly burned and sticking. But his touch makes it difficult to concentrate. "Unless you plan to feed us on kisses alone, I think we might need something more substantial too."

Spencer laughs softly, a low rumble of amusement that you can feel as much as hear. "I don’t know, kisses for dinner sounds pretty tempting."

"I’m afraid it won’t satisfy our hunger."

"I think it’ll satisfy mine just fine."

“Oh my god,” you gasp, catching on to the deeper meaning in his words. You tighten your grip on the wooden spoon as you resume your stirring. “Stop distracting me.”

If anything, he clings to you even more. He rests his chin on your shoulder as his hands travel down your stomach again, only this time, they linger at the hem of your shorts. His fingers play with the fabric, teasingly tugging at it.

“Spencer.”

“What?”

And then you feel it, the unmistakable pressure of his arousal pressing against your back. It’s a firm, urgent presence, a hard line that aligns tightly against your own curves. The hardness of it distracts you even further.

“You’re making it really hard to cook,” you murmur, trying to sound stern but the breathiness in your voice betrays your growing distraction.

He slips a hand inside the waistband of your shorts while the other trace along your stomach. “I think we should forget about cooking for a while.”

“You know we can’t do that,” you try to argue, even as your hips instinctively follow his touch. “We need to eat.”

“But we could be doing other things,” Spencer whispers, nipping gently at your earlobe. His teeth graze your skin lightly before his lips close around it, tugging softly. The sigh you let out is shaky and breathless. The idea is tempting, dangerously so. The persistent heat from his hand, now tracing idle circles on your underwear, isn’t helping your focus.

“Aren’t you—” your grip on the wooden spoon loosens when he slips a finger over the waistband. “Aren’t you the one who… always says how our bodies need… what was it again?”

Spencer nods. “The human body need about 2,000 calories a day to function properly. But,” he continues, slipping another finger in. “We also need affection and touch for our emotional well-being.”

You swallow hard. “What else do we need?”

“Pleasure. Lots of it.”

You don’t know whether you should be laughing or not. His boldness is both shocking and strangely amusing. Spencer isn't the type to be straightforward when it comes to sex, but when he is, it's always intense. He's clingy, he craves attention, and even when his cheeks flush with embarrassment, it doesn't stop him. It hasn't stopped him in the past, and it's not stopping him now.

Your mind scatters as he starts pressing himself harder, slightly grinding behind you. And when he adds another finger in, then followed by another until all of his five fingers dive into your underwear, you know you’re already too far gone. You let go of your grip on the wooden spoon before it clatters inside the pot, reaching down to hold his arm to stop him.

“Fine. Fine. You win.” You breathe out heavily as you gently pull his hand out. “We should at least turn off the stove first.”

He grins, pulling away to turn off the burner. “There. Now, where were we?”

You finally turn to face him, your hands finding their way to his shirt. You grip onto the material. “I think you were about to prove a point about pleasure.”

His response is a soft laugh before his lips meet yours. He’s gentle when he touches you. He always is. His hands slides around your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between your bodies. You let your hand trail over his chest, up, up, up, until your fingers find the soft curls of his hair.

When he finally pulls away, he's smiling from ear to ear. "I think that's proof enough, don't you?"

You smile back, breathless and flushed. "Maybe," you reply, your fingers gently tugging at his hair. "But I might need a bit more convincing."

His grin widens, and he leans in again, his lips brushing against yours as he whispers, "I can do that."

You can feel his hands tightening around your waist as he begins to kiss you again, deeper this time. It's all teeth and tongue, raw and hungry. The forgotten dinner on the stove barely registers in your mind. But with his hands and lips distracting you, you find it hard to worry about anything else.

[darnell-la]

I can't stop thinking about how Logan would be like "yeah those boys are not enough for you you need a man like me to take care of you" pleeeese do a story based on that <3 Love you guys works btw

note: Logan Howlett is an eater.

———

Logan had originally come to y/n’s apartment to drop off dinner. Wade had told him she hadn’t been eating proper food because of her study hours, so he cooked and packed it, ready to foul her up.

When he arrived, he heard noises from the young woman’s room. Two voice. Hers and someone else’s. A man’s. A boy.

He held himself together, understanding that she was young and experimenting. At least she better be. She shouldn’t be dating right now. He won’t allow it.

The man went to turn around and leave, maybe come back in an hour, but he heard a moan. Her moan. “Fuck no,” the man said, changing his mind about experimenting after he heard her with another man.

“Y/n!” The man knocked on the door hard, making the two jump in the bed. “Fuck, that’s Logan — M-My friend’s friend. My friend. J-Just get dressed,” y/n got up quick as well as the boy.

“Goddamnit,” he cussed, angry that he didn’t get to finish after touching y/n for the longest to get her wet. “Can you just like shoo him away or somethin? I’m fucking hard,” the boy said.

“I can’t, he’s like family. And he wouldn’t leave anyway,” she said, making the boy roll her eyes. “Get him outta here or I ain’t comin’ back,” the boy said, making her roll her eyes, but she was also horny now. She needed something.

Y/n cracked the door, hoping to talk with Logan for a quick second before sending him off, but he pushed open the door, causing Y/n to fall back.

“You ain’t comin’ back. Get the fuck out,” Logan snapped at the boy. His attitude was unacceptable. Even his appearance in her room was unacceptable.

“Dude, get out of here — We just got-“ Before he could say anything, Logan grabbed the boy by his collar and pulled him out of her room. “Don’t come back, or you’ll regret it,”

Logan shut the door and then turned to look at y/n who was embarrassed. “Logan, I-“ she went to say but he cut her off. “You what? Fuck boys during your study time?”

“What!? No, I- I mean — Logan, why are you here?” She asked, trying to switch the conversation which made him chuckle. “To give you dinner that you never have time to eat. Now I see why,”

Y/n felt bad. Now Logan knew she didn’t show up on Friday nights because she was fucking some random boy.

“You ditch family for a boy that can’t respect you? Let alone, properly make you wet!?” The man asked, shocking y/n. “H-He does make me wet,” y/n said, not knowing why she would tell Logan that. She just felt defensive.

“Oh, really? You know I can smell ya, Bub. Right?” Logan asked the young lady as he placed her dinner down on a desk before walking towards her. “And you’re already all dried up,”

“Logan that’s- That’s very inappropriate,” she said as she backed up, the back of her legs hitting her bed. “Is it? Then I must be a nasty son of a bitch, because I smell for you every time I’m around you,”

Y/n didn’t know how that got her on her bed, spread open for him, but she was, legs spread and cunt leaking as he stuffed his face in between her legs.

“So fuckin’ tasty. Gotta lick that son of a bitch off of you,” Logan groaned onto her heat as her hands tangled in his hair. “Oh god, Logan,” y/n threw her head back as her bud swole.

“Sweetest pussy that lives, baby. So fuckin’ good,” Logan couldn’t stop eating at her. He lifted a hand up and used two fingers to push at her entrance until he could curl in the right spot.

“F-Fuck,” y/n cried, making him lean back to watch her as he finger fucked her cunt. “You like that?” Logan asked as she nodded, head still leaned back and eyes closed.

“Yeah? Gonna start callin’ me instead of the boys?” He asked her, making her nod quickly. “Yeah, these boys aren’t enough for you. You need a man like me to take care of you,”

Y/n whined as she grinned at his fingers, chasing her orgasm. She was close, and he had just started. He was definitely better than any boy she’d been with. He was even better than herself.

“Give it to me, baby — Cum on my face — Need my face drenched,” the man looked into the girl's eyes and began to cross and roll back.

“C’mon, baby, give it to me — Give it to your man,” Logan kitty licked her bud to give her a better sensation that Wii jot sent her over the edge with a loud moan.

Logan latched his lips around her lips as he continued fingering her, humming into her cunt to get this amazing feeling in.

She tried to push the man off and close her legs, but he kept slapping her hands away and speeding her legs further with his free hand.

“G-God, Logan,” y/n cried out, feeling a bit embarrassed, and he felt it. He slightly loved the idea of her being shy from now on. The animal in him loved the look of a deer in headlights.

[caitlinbueckers]

told you so.

kate martin x reader

2.9k

woooooh this is a fucking doozy guys. literally received one (1) anon and then i blacked out for an hour and a half soooo here’s this ! realized during this journey that kate martin means an unfathomable amount to me and it’s like . Actually concerning 🔥🔥

ANYWAYS it’s giving Kate martin’s controversially hidden girlfriend that goes lowk public at the wnba draft like SHUT UP

18+ AS FUCK

“babe, quit looking at me like that.”

if there’s one thing you know, above the fact that you were certain there was gonna be an unsuspected draft tonight, was that kate martin could be such a bitch in the morning.

not that this was new for you, in any sense— you’d been more than used to it since the dawn of your relationship, learning all the little things about her that made her tick. whether that was her favorite to least favorite foods, or teams, even her obsession with fucking hot sauce.

you knew she still slept with her childhood blankie, the one currently curled under her chin atop the hotel comforter because she’s ridiculous, and because nobody has ever and would ever disrespect her blankie game.

and above all, you knew how much she wasn’t a morning person.

“you’re so dramatic,” you snort, pushing yourself up onto your elbows with a tired, but mocking voice as she emits a slow groan, turning to shove her face into the pillow, her body curling away from yours in an act of indignance that only makes you laugh.

you were far too used to her acting like a baby, so the action only made you sit up on your knees, slinging a leg over her so you could straddle her sides, leaning down to pepper kisses against the side of her face as she lets out a string of groans that turn into halfhearted chuckles, until her hands are planted firmly against your thighs, bare due to the oversized IOWA shirt that she insisted on you wearing.

‘for good luck,’ you remembered her snickering, something you knew was really just ‘easy access’.

her voice is still hoarse from sleep, quiet and raspy and tinged with that midwestern accent that you’ll never give up on bullying her for, when she whispers, “dude, you’re so annoying.”

of course, she proves it by hoisting you off of her, onto the bed, simulating something like a WWE smackdown moment as she rolls over onto you, mumbling something that you really can’t decipher due to her face in your neck, your chest, basically every place she knows will pull that hysterical, annoyingly high pitched laugh out of you, that for some reason, she loves.

“can’t believe you made it here.” she murmurs quietly against your cheek, lips moving lazily against the skin before she lays a smacking kiss there, and it’s almost gross, how much saliva she uses, but you snicker anyway, hand coming up to stroke through her blonde strands.

in all honesty, you couldn’t really believe it either. it had been soemthing close to hell trying to get it all straightened out, from clothes to hotels, to transportation and getting from des moines to brooklyn, not to mention just how fucking exclusive it had been to even get a seat open with all the hype surrounding women’s college basketball, the posterity that the final four teams had brought to the sport— not to mention, the fact that you and kate weren’t public in the fucking slightest, so having to account for that definitely sucked.

of course, it was a huge accomplishment, one that would definitely go down in the history of sports in general, so of course it was a huge fucking honor that your girlfriend was apart of it—

but also, you just thought it was hot.

in fact, the thought makes you smirk to yourself, corners of your mouth curling upwards in a self righteous grin as you turned your head, bumping noses with her to whisper, “can’t wait to see you all dressed up, baby,” she snickers at that, and you kiss her lips once, twice, three times before continuing, “and, i can’t wait to see where you get drafted so i can buy myself a plane ticket.”

the subsequent groan you receive is expected, but it doesn’t deter you even slightly, “and to watch you play on a professional fucking team, like, kate, i’m basically wet thinking about it right now.”

that makes her laugh out loud, and it warms you just a bit to hear it.

it’s not like kate has been super confident about it recently, usually choosing to not speak or avoid talking about how bad she wants it— especially considering the night being mainly for caitlin, an old teammate of yours from school and one of kate’s best friends on the squad, and arguably, one of the best players in the league (next to kate, of course).

still, it didn’t change your focus, or the unyielding hope you had for the possibility of kate getting drafted— no matter how late in the draft it could be.

“babe, quit selling yourself short, okay? you’re a legend. it would be literally, fucking stupid to pass you up, okay?” she doesn’t respond at first, her eyes closed and lashes brushing her cheeks, before she flutters them open just a crack, blue peeking through as you offer her a grin, one that she only rolls her eyes to, but kisses you regardless. you knew how much she hated to talk about it, but it didn’t matter.

you knew you were right, anyway.

“mmmiloveyou.” it comes out in one smushed whisper against your mouth, before you nip at her bottom lip, hand sneaking under the sports bra she wore to bed to brush your thumb across her ribcage, “get off of me and get ready, okay?”

—

caitlin was top draft pick, which was heavily speculated and yet still unexpected to a degree as you stood from your seat with a cacophony of shouts and hollers from around you, pride swelling thick in your chest. you’d known the girl since you two had been in middle school— seeing the same tall little girl that had hated losing in an elementary school gym turn into such an infamous champion was something alike to a parent watching their kid go off to college or something, you’d swear it.

but, to say it was nothing short of nervewracking would somehow be an understatement, and as much as you felt the impending pressure with each name called, you could only imagine how kate must’ve felt.

it wasn’t hard to tell— the way her molars steadily worked the inside of her cheek, the way her tongue would dart out to wet her lips again and again. her hand, jittering too much to be held stationary within your own, drumming along your bare thigh beside your dress— ‘self soothing’, she’d explained in a whisper, a halfhearted, almost weakened smile on her face when you’d given her a lifted eyebrow at the hand placement considering the amount of cameras that surrounded you, but somehow, despite the rush of adrenaline, decided you didn’t care either.

thankfully, you both weren’t anywhere too accessible, but it still made you wonder whether kate had been bullshitting just how anxious she actually had been the whole time for her to need your touch so badly, and for an aching moment of tenderness as you glance at her, you want to kiss her, hard, rub the tension between her eyebrows, relax the trouble in her eyes.

still, gabbie and jada were good eyes too, considering anytime the camera would so much as even pan past you two, jada would hit you with a solid elbow, one to remind you that your poker face was shit, and perhaps you’d have to try just a little harder to pretend you weren’t totally, irrevocably in love with the woman beside you.

but slowly, it was all starting to click into place.

the cameras began panning to kate more and more, your own eyes flickering to the set and noticing how everytime you’d look, there’d be an official looking right past you, right at kate. a surge of excitement rose within you, one that had the words bubbling from your mouth in an urgent whisper,

“baby, i think—“

until an official, dressed in black with a wireless pair of headphones in each ear and a smile, touched kate’s shoulder.

“ms. martin, we’re gonna go ahead and have you and your party move down the aisle just a bit— there’s been a slight seating issue, if that’s okay with you guys?”

jada elbows you extra hard this time, and for some reason it solidifies that feeling you get, one that makes your heart leap as you all nod, getting to your feet without argument, only as kate turns to give you a look that’s supposed to be scolding, but fuck, you can see the glimmer of hope in it that makes your chest constrict, your eyes burn in pride.

“you’re giving me eyes, and for what?” she hums, the teeth against her cheek working overtime as you all settle into the new seats, kate at the end of the aisle, and a fluttery feeling in your chest, “no reason.” you say it almost smugly, as if you know something she doesn’t, and you don’t, but god, you can feel it.

the names fly off, left and right, number 16, and kate’s knee starts bouncing slightly, number 17 and your heart feels like it’s going way too fucking fast, number 18, and jada peers around you to glance at kate, and then…

las vegas, aces— kate martin.

if watching caitlin win had felt like a parent watching their child, this must’ve been adjacent to winning the fucking lottery.

you’re on your feet in mere seconds, the tears that had built finally dripping down your cheeks, a fact you’d only come to find embarrassing once you realize how visible they are on the playback, but fuck it, your girl was going pro.

she wastes no time in wrapping you up, her face ducking into your shoulder as your arms twine around her middle, thinking subconsciously of how you know you shouldn’t risk it, but kate doesn’t seem to mind, only releasing you with a single arm to embrace jada, and then gabbie, before she’s back to you.

of course, it doesn’t occur to you in the moment, that it’s a hard launch— no, it doesn’t really sink in until she kisses you hard against the temple before she’s breezing down the aisle, the subsequent eruption in applause leaving you starstruck, in silent awe.

after that, it’s somewhat of a blur— she takes her picture and accepts her jersey, the newscasters going off on some spiel about your girlfriends work ethic, her attitude, her endurance, everything you already fucking knew, had known for so long, that she’d finally have a chance to prove.

the moment she’s back beside you, it also doesn’t register to you that she must’ve been just as accepting about the reveal, because it’s only a second that she’s in her seat before she plants a soft kiss to your mouth, the dark lipstick you’d been steadily biting off in anxiety sticking to hers and she’s grinning, bigger than she had all day, and for a moment, you think you might actually collapse because god,

you love her. so fucking much.

“told you so,” you make out between the tears, smiling through the tightness in your voice that makes you sound warbled, whimpering even as she just laughs at you, her thumb careful to wipe beneath your eyes, “guess you did.”

of course, it’s only customary that after such a good night, everyone must get fucked up— so, that’s exactly what happens.

you get to gush to caitlin— hugging her tight around the neck and congratulating her a million times, to which she reciprocates when it comes to you and kate, garnering a blush on your already alcohol flushed cheeks, rolling your eyes as you punch her arm.

“whatever, fever.”

“whatever, ‘ace’.”

you pretend you don’t notice the quotations she puts around it, and give her a friendly middle finger instead— if kate was an ace, that meant you basically were too, at least by proxy.

“hey money,” you call to kate affectionately, seeing only the back of her head as she talks to gabbie, your arms sliding around her waist to hold her tight from behind.

“my love,” she greets with a smile, looking over her shoulder to pucker her lips at you, expecting a kiss that you so easily return. it feels fucking terrifying, in all honesty, to be so open, but you can’t find it within you to care enough to give it up— not when she’s this happy.

“dude, you totally knew, didn’t you? there’s no way you would’ve started crying like that unless you knew.” she’s drunk, chattering at a volume level beyond what’s needed considering you were right behind her, hand sneaking beneath her blazer, but you can’t help the way you shrug, “i’m always right, huh?”

later that night, she shows you just how right you are.

it’s past a decent hour to still be tugging off clothes from the night prior— the clock read four in the morning, but the windows spoke of the twinkling lights that surrounded, the city not quite awake, but never asleep.

“you’re a pro,” you hum against her mouth as you tug off her blazer, hands making quick work of the belt that kept you from exploring, smirking at the look she gives you, daring and all too fucking sexy, “it’s so hot to think about.”

“yeah?” her fingers hook beneath the straps of the dress until she’s dragging them down your shoulders, “you want me to show you how professionals do it?”

the next thing you know she’s between your legs, nothing but a white top and her slacks on, unbuttoned, as she hikes a leg over her shoulder, kisses along the inside of your thigh with an intensity only comparable to how she is after a really good game.

“fuck—!” it leaves your mouth in a sound that’s almost unrecognizable, the realization that you’d been pleasantly and uncomfortably horny ever since the draft had ended making itself known considering just how much kate had been unrelenting during press— hands on your hips or on the inside of your thigh, toying with the hair on the back of your neck or grasping the inside of your elbow to lead you along.

she knew it drove you crazy, you knew she’d make it up to you later.

her mouth makes easy work on you, tongue long and flat as she laps against your cunt, rough in all the ways that she knew you could handle— thumbs pressing fingerprint bruises into your skin, breath hot and heavy against your clit, hips moving on their own accord as you gasp out a string of incoherent whimpers. “shit, baby- just… just like that.”

it wasn’t like kate had ever failed at getting you off, but tonight, she performed as if it was her last game, greedy almost as she drinks you in, making sure to not leave one bit of you unchecked. her tongue is almost sinful in the way it makes your voice careen, high and whining, your hand finding a permanent tangle into her already mussed hair.

but she’s cocky tonight, presumptuous right before you orgasm as she raises her head to kiss your thigh, biting the skin before she’s climbing onto the bed beside you, too tall to be graceful, but you’re too fucking horny to even spare her the laughs you usually give.

“up, c’mere.” she’s breathless still, but she doesn’t let you rest for even a second, leaning across you to curl her fingers around your thigh to tug you up from your laying position, rousing you from the hazy, almost delirious state of mind as you push yourself up, letting out a shaking breath when she’s sliding your leg over her chest, hands grazing up the back of your thighs until she’s pulling you, right over over her mouth.

“kate, wha- you’re so— fuck.”

any semblance of words or sense seem to leave you in one second, as she flattens her tongue against the wetness that’s collected, the friction almost unbearable when her head tilted upwards, nose brushing hard against your clit in a way that pulls a cry from your lips. she’s unfaltering, diligent, unabashed in the way she’s moving your hips, the way she pairs each grind against her nose with a curl of her tongue, and really, it’s over before it fucking starts.

her mouth is glossy, damp when she’s done, and she smiles and it’s arrogant as she’s sliding you back down to sit you against her hips, the mere control she had of your body making you bright red as you pant pathetically, reduced to fucking nothing by her mouth.

it makes you throw your head back with a whimpering sigh, “don’t fucking look at me like that.” you complain, legs still open, thighs still trembling as she races her hands along them, “tired already?”

funnily enough, you were far from fucking tired.

“actually… was thinking about showing you some celebrity treatment?” you muse softly, as she peels off her own top, eyebrows raising, her thumb swiping along the edge of her lip before she’s placing it on the bottom of yours, pressing until it dips into your mouth, the heady taste of what you knew was yourself finding a place on your tongue.

she smirks, tongue poking between her teeth as your stomach fucking turns almost, arousal prickling unforgivingly at you once again.

“ooh,” she muses under her breath, eyes laser focused on the thumb she’d placed between your lips, voice coming out in a whisper, “i like the sound of that.”

she’s smirking though, because sex between you two have never been anything completely serious— that’s just not how kate operates, “ace money martin’s got a ring to it, huh?”

“shut up.”

“make me.”

so, you do.

[cherryredstars]

Pairing: Badboy!Miguel O’Hara x Goodgirl!Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fluff, Nervous Miguel, Penetrative Sex, Car Sex, Mentions of Jerking Off, Praise

Summary: Milkshakes and shaking cars

A/N: It has been long awaited… Part 2!!

Word Count: 3K (Barely Edited)

Part 1

Shit, maybe he fucked up. 

His heart is practically racing as he pulls into your driveway, your pretty little smile turning towards him promising to only take a minute. He throws a weak smirk your way, watching the sway of your skirt as you run up the drive and through the front door. The second it closes, his smile drops and he’s tearing up his car. The stickiness in his boxers is starting to be uncomfortable, and he pops open the glove department, rummaging around until he finds old paper napkins. He looks up and around, checking all his blind spots, before wincing and pushing his legs up, hurriedly unzipping his pants and stuffing the napkins past the waistband of his boxers. They come back with random dark patches from the crinkled rush, and he cringes as he looks around his front seat. Fuck! He really doesn’t think things through! 

His head is on a swivel as he tries to find a place to put the soiled napkins, eventually popping open the coin holder on the left side of the steering wheel and shoving them in there. It takes a few slams and rapid stuffing to get it to close, and Miguel lets out a deep sigh as he readjusts himself in his seat. His eyes turn to the rearview mirror, his hand rapidly coming up to face it towards him as best as he can. His red eyes stare back at him, and he leans further back, turning his head either way to get a look at his hair. He curses when he sees its disheveled state. He looks like a fucking clown. Fuck him and his need to defend a pretty girl’s honor and then fuck her stupid after. He runs both his hands through his hair, ruffling it up and then smoothing it down again into its perfectly styled look. 

Movement in his peripheral makes him look past his rearview mirror, his eyes focusing on the good little thing walking down her front door steps and towards his car. He can’t help himself when he lets out a low groan, shifting in his seat as he takes in an eyeful. She’s going to be the death of him, with her innocent little smile and her pretty little dress. All for him. God, what did he do to get so fucking lucky. When you make it to the hood of his car, you give him a bashful smile, eyes going to the ground as you round the car and get into the passenger seat. You fix the dress over yourself once you sit down, trying your best to look pretty and proper. His eyes fall to your legs, the sticky trail that was there before gone. While he’s slightly disappointed the mark he has on you is gone, he’s more than happy to do it again when the time is right. His eyes come back up to your face, your doe eyes blinking up at him. He can’t help the slow smile that comes across his face, his hand grabbing one of yours off your lap and bringing it up to his mouth. 

Your hand is warm as he presses his lips to your knuckle, the sweet scent of vanilla drifting into his senses. A fire lights your cheeks as you watch him, and Miguel smirks against your skin despite the fluttering in his stomach. He clears his throat as he leans back up, hands returning to the wheel as he begins pulling out of your driveway. Once he’s made it to the main road, one of his hands comes back to your hand, lacing your fingers together. 

“How do you feel about milkshakes?”

___________

It’s not really busy. 

A cute, obviously family-owned place. It’s made to look retro, something he hopes you appreciate. It’s a decent diner, somewhere nice to hangout and get cheap food. A classic date spot. Maybe a bit too classic or unspecial. Maybe the wrong place to take someone like you. Maybe he fucked up. His hands tighten around the steering wheel, prepared to take you somewhere else when you squeal. His eyes cut to you, and his breath leaves him the moment he catches sight of your wide smile and glistening eyes. You’re rambling on about how cute the place looks, saying something about how happy you are that you chose a dress that is on theme with the small diner’s color scheme. He just can’t help it. Miguel leans over the center console and reaches out his hand to rest under your chin, your head turns away from the windshield and you let out the cutest squeak the second his lips press against yours. 

When he pulls away, he’s met with your dopey eyes. He smiles down at you, his thumb rubbing at your bottom lip before he leans further away and pulls his keys from the ignition. You’re still giving him those pretty doe eyes when he opens his car door, throwing a lazy smile your way. You’re jolted out of your haze when he closes the door, blinking rapidly to clear the glaze covering your eyes. Your head turns rapidly at the sound of your door opening, finding Miguel holding the edge of the door with a single hand as he rests his other arm against the roof of the car. He’s bent down, smirking at you still. “You coming, princesa?”

That familiar blush still colors your cheeks and you nod shyly, watching as Miguel moves over to make room for your exit. You step out quickly, looking up at him once you’ve fully exited the car. Miguel smiles down at you, moving a strand of hair behind your ear before looking past you and closing the car door. His arm comes around the back of your neck, hanging on your shoulders and keeping you to his side. The smell of him surrounds you, causing you to go slightly dizzy. He always smells good, but mixed into his usual cologne is the smell of sex, making your cheeks darken and for you to face away from him. He catches the movement from the corner of his eye, chuckling as he squeezes you tighter against his side and placing a small kiss to the top of your head. He swears he could feel the exact moment your knees buckled before you get ahold of yourself.

Once you step inside the small place, the light ringing of a silver bell greets the two of you. The place smells strongly of coffee and ice cream, a pleasant combination. He can feel the way your head moves as you take in the interior, focusing on the vintage-like posters decorating the walls as he leads you towards a corner booth. He lets you slide in first, following right after you and practically smashing you against the wall and his side. His arm finds its place over the top of your seat again, resting comfortable over the even-leveled top of the booth seat. A waitress comes up soon after, an older woman in the classic waitress outfit. You give her a kind smile, and Miguel takes one of the menus she offers, giving it to you to browse over. With a promise to come back in a bit, the waitress leaves the two of you. 

Miguel just sits and stares, his hand playing with a strand of your hair as you look over the menu. It’s silent between the two of you, not that he minds. He likes studying your face as you contemplate what you want, watching as you bite your bottom lip or your fingers come to play with it. Every now and then you ask him his opinion on some of the things on the menu, causing Miguel to lean in and speak against your ear like he’s telling a secret. It’s obvious that you don’t really listen to what he’s telling you, he can see it on your face as it heats up and your eyes glaze over. He finds it cute, reminding him to go back to his usual teasing. Eventually, you decide to stick to a simple milkshake and a serving of fries and Miguel calls over the waitress to give her the two orders and the menu. 

It won’t take long for the order to come to the table, so Miguel entertains you through simple conversation. He comments on your dress, showering you in compliments that eventually has you burying your head into his side out of embarrassment. Miguel chuckles at your natural cuteness, his arm coming down from the top of the booth and wrapping around your shoulders so he can place a kiss to your head once again. By the time the blush on your cheeks has died down, the waitress comes back with two milkshakes and a basket of fries. She leaves the two of you with a smile, promising to be nearby if the two of you need anything. You’re obviously thankful for the cold treat, taking a sip of it in hopes of cooling you down more. Miguel smiles as he watches you, ignoring the way his cock stirs as your throat bobs with every quick swallow. Miguel clears his throat once again, turning to his own milkshake and taking sips from it. He starts up conversation again, something more tame that won’t make your cheeks heat up. He enjoys the small giggles you let out as he talks to you, laughing along when you can’t eat a fry in fear that you’ll choke on it from all your giggling. It’s nice and calm, almost distracts him entirely from the hard on he’s sporting because anything you do is insanely hot to him. But then, you’re cutting him off mid-sentence as you swipe your thumb over his bottom lip, a drop of his milkshake on your finger that disappears as you hesitantly look up at him and lick at it. Yup, the death of him. 

Miguel curses, looking away from you and fishing in his back pocket for his wallet. He pulls it out quickly, slapping two 20s on the table before getting out of the booth. You’re staring at him with wide eyes, yelping when he grabs your hand and drags you with him towards the door. You let out a stuttering protest that falls on deaf ears, the sound of the silver bell ringing behind you as the door closes. In seconds, Miguel brings the both of you to his car, pining you to the side of it as he smashes his lips against yours. His hands hold tight to your waist as yours clutch his shoulders. A small whimper leaves you as his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, and he groans the second your mouth opens. You taste sweet, like whipped cream and ice cream and a bit of salt. Fuck, isn’t it just addicting. Miguel pulls away from you once he starts going light-headed, his eyes still drawn to your lips as you take deep breaths. 

“Get in the backseat, please.” Miguel mumbles, his hands tightening at your waist. You blink, not quite hearing what he said. Miguel groans, resting his forehead against your own as he tries to tame his raging hormones. He repeats it, just loud enough for you to hear, sighing in relief when you nod your head slowly and he hears the slight click of the door handle. He follows after you, sitting in the center seat before pulling you into his lap. You let out another yelp, your legs spreading to fit on either side of his lap. The noise you make when his lips meet yours again is calmer, more expectant as your hands go to his hair. He moans against your lips as you tug slightly, pulling him closer to you and making him curse. When he pulls away, his face goes to your neck, his own hands going to your hair to pull your head back to give him more access. 

“Miguel!” You call out when he sucks slightly on the column of your throat, “D-did I do something? What-” You’re cut off by your own gasp as Miguel bites lightly at the junction between your shoulder and neck, soothing it over with a few licks. 

“Yes?”, he mumbles against your skin, his fingers moving the straps of your dress down your shoulders, leaving them hanging against your upper arm, allowing him more room to kiss your soft skin. “No?” He retraces his steps back up your neck, coming face to face with you again. “Does it matter?”

You open your mouth to respond, but you’re cut off again by Miguel’s lips. Your eyes flutter closed, moaning against him. Miguel hisses when your body shifts, rubbing against the front of his jeans. He pulls away from the kiss, his hand cradling your head as he slowly begins to lean you back. Your hands slide down to his shoulders, letting him guide you until your back hits the center console. It’s slightly uncomfortable, but you quickly forget about it the second Miguel lifts up the bottom of your dress and starts kissing the exposed skin of your stomach. A soft noise leaves you as his slightly cold lips glide over your skin, causing you to squirm slightly. Miguel drinks up those sweet noises, his hand going to the zipper of his pants, dragging it down until he’s able to free his aching cock. His kisses go further down your body as he gives himself slow tugs, groaning the second his mouth is pressed against the growing damp spot in your panties. 

They’re a different pair from the ones you had on earlier, but just as easy to move to the side as he leans back. You whimper once you feel the air against your wet folds, cheeks blushing as you're exposed to him again. Your cunt is still puffy from what he has done to you earlier, but all signs of his seed are gone. He’ll just have to fix that. His eyes come up to you, studying the way you bite your lip in anticipation, eyes cloudy with need. “You’re going to be the death of me, y’know that, pretty girl?”

You reply with a moan, head leaning forward as Miguel begins to push into you. You’re already so fucking wet, walls eagerly tightening around him, welcoming him home. Miguel lets out a curse the second he bottoms out, a wet click sounding. Miguel’s hands come up to your waist, your dress bunching around his fingers as he begins to pull you back off and on his dick. He can get drunk on the wet noises that greet his ears the second he slides in and out of your slick walls. Only second to the pleading tone of your voice as you beg him to go faster. 

Miguel can’t deny his sweet little baby anything, moving his hips faster. You both moan out, breathy little squeals leaving your mouth as Miguel throws his head back against the seat. He can hear the car groaning slightly as it begins to shake, and Miguel grits his teeth when he feels your walls fluttering. “Fuck, that’s it. Good girl, taking it so well, yeah?”

You babble something back, nodding your head along to him as he thrusts into you. His hand comes down to your clit, watching the way you thrash and your legs kick out. Miguel can’t help but smirk, watching the way your legs shake at a few rubs. “Oh baby, don’t tell me you’re still sensitive, my sweet girl.”

You only whimper, back arching off the console as the similar burning sensation begins to form in your stomach. Your hips begin moving, grinding against his lap as he feeds your greedy cunt more of his cock. Miguel moans out, mouth dropping open as his lashes flutter. He presses harder against your bud, giving it a few rough flicks before you cry out and your body collapses back onto the console. He’s hypnotized as he watches you convulse around his cock, your walls pulsating rapidly against him. He fucks you through your orgasm, cursing as you milk him for all he’s worth. “Fuck, yes. So goddamn tight for me, baby. Got me addicted to you.”

You moan out his name, your hands grabbing at the seats on their side of your body. You try to pull yourself off of him, sensitivity prickling your bones. Miguel is quick to see it, his hands reaching up to pull your hands up and into him, forcing the rest of your body to come and fall against his chest. You cry out at the new angle, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Miguel grunts, hands returning to your waist and rubbing soothing circles through your dress. 

“Sh, sh, come back to me sweet girl,” Miguel coos at you as your walls clench around him again, signaling the approach of a second orgasm. You pant heavily, whimpering as you loll your head forward, resting it against Miguel’s. Miguel gives you a breathless smile, his hold tightening on your waist. “Good girl, there she is. Knew that you could do it.”

You whine at the praise, eyes fluttering closed slowly. Miguel tilts his head up, moaning the moment your lips instantly start moving with his. His hips thrust into you faster, drowning out your moans. Miguel’s brows furrow, ignoring the car’s loud squeaking. He’s so close, can fill it about to explode. He pulls his mouth away from yours, one of his hands coming up to pull your hair away from your face. Your eyes are glassy as you stare at him, lips swollen and covered in spit. You look like a fucking goddess. 

“Miguel, please.” Sound just like one, too

“Fuck, okay. Okay, I got you, just…fuck” Miguel groans out, jackhammering into you desperately. 

You squeal, arms coming to wrap around his neck before you pull him into a kiss. Miguel’s eyes shut tight as his thrusts get sloppy, whimpering against your lips as the rope inside his stomach snaps. You whine against his lips as warmth fills you, squirming in his lap even as he’s stopped thrusting. You both pull away, Miguel resting his head on your shoulder as he breathes deeply. He places a delicate kiss to your skin, his hand rubbing you back to help you calm down. Eventually you pull away, a shy smile on your face. Miguel smiles back at you, watching as you look around. “The windows are foggy.”

Miguel chuckles, pressing a firm kiss to your forehead. 

“Date me?”

@opalwitchart @peachey-pie @9rfa

[latenightdaydreams]

Jason/Masked Killer!Konig who’s been watching camp counselor reader tend to the kids. She’s so motherly and perfect, and all he wants is her with her stomach swelled up. So he takes what he wants (reader dont mind cause she a freak). Anyways, He’s seen the way her fingers reach deep and deep but never hit that spot when she’s in her private bunk.

JasonAU!König x Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 2

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, stalking, mommy issues, breast milk, p in v, breeding kink, voyeurism

1.1k word count

🏕️

.

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There is something about you that is different from all of the other camp counselors he’s come in contact with over the years. You have a certain light that emanates from your eyes and the way you smile. The children all flock to you and feel secure when you’re near, like a natural mother figure. It’s something König himself has always craved.

Typically, the camp counselors are hyper sexual and negligent; drinking and smoking while having unprotected sex. Yet here you are in your bunk, a little after midnight watching a video on your phone. You have the blankets kicked off because it is so hot. Your legs are spread open, revealing you aren’t wearing any underwear underneath your nightgown.

You have dainty little fingers that you do desperately slip in and out, but you never cum. König watches with his cock out in his hands, vigorously, stroking his cock as he watches you. It’s sad to watch how… unfulfilled you look when he knows he can give you everything you need.

König is up early the next morning, waiting on you. You are always the first one up and the only one cooking breakfast. The thought of you in a home with him, cooking for him and your large family drives him wild. He closes his eyes and listens to your soft little hums, letting his mind run wild with the thought.

He envisions you in a tight house dress with a big belly and milk stains from your leaking breasts. You serve him his breakfast and sit on his lap, cutting up his food for him and feeding him. When he’s thirsty he pulls down the front of your dress, suckling in your breast and drinking from you.

The sound of other voices snaps him from his thoughts. Other counselors have woken up so he backs off, keeping a close eye on you throughout the day. Tonight is the night; he can’t wait any longer for you.

 As the sun sets over the lake you walk into the kitchen to gather items for smores. You hum the same tune as earlier as the sound of children and counselors enjoying themselves in the water is in the background. König slowly stalks behind you with steady steps to not cause the old wooden floors to creak.

You stop humming and the small break causes you to hear a light thump of someone’s footstep. Assuming that it is just one of the other workers, you ignore the footsteps and continue to hum. As you lean forward to reach the box of graham crackers on the top shelf, an arm wraps around your waist. The box goes flying into the air as you react with shock. A scream leaves your lips but is quickly muffled by his large hand covering your mouth.

König effortlessly lifts you into the air and walks you across the way to your cabin. His shoulder slams the door open. He then tosses you onto your bed, watching as you scramble and turn to look at him. A mask covering his face, only his piercing blue eyes visible. His body is muscular, towering over your smaller frame.

“Please don’t kill me.” Your voice trembles with fear.

“You’re mine.” König growls.

König turns to shut the door before marching over to you on the bed, grabbing you by your hair and yanking you down to the bed. His eyes meet yours, there is a fearful look, but also something else. He tilts his head, studying you for a moment. With his free hand he lifts up your shirt and looks down at your soft looking flesh.

His eyes dart back up to yours as he slowly releases your hair, making sure you wouldn’t try to run. You don’t move, instead you watch him closely as he pulls up more of your shirt to expose your bra. He wastes no time in pulling down your bra to expose yourself to him.

There is a sparkle in his eyes as he’s finally seeing your breasts. He lifts his mask slightly to expose his badly scarred lips. His tongue comes out and lightly flicks back and forth over your nipple before wrapping his lips around it and sucking.

It’s just like in his imagination, except there is no sweet milk filling his mouth- yet. His cock twitches in his pants and leaks precum from the excitement of having you like this. He looks up at you to see you watching him while he enjoys himself, biting your lower lip as you hold back your small moans.

Your eyes follow him as he sits up, he grabs the waistband of your pants and pulls them down. The soft fabric of your cotton panties came into view, driving him insane. Between your legs is a small wet spot forming on the light-colored fabric. Instantly his eyes dart up to yours; you’re actually enjoying this.

König wastes no time in pulling them off, exposing the sweet little pussy that he’s been watching you rub for the last two weeks. His fingers finally get to graze across the soft texture of your public hair before letting his fingers caress your wet folds. A low groan leaves him as he feels how wet he made you. All of this for him.

“I’m going to fuck until you’re full with my seed.” He whispers to you as he pulls down his pants to let his cock spring free.

You say nothing, simply nod your head in submission. Internally, you’re dying to be a mother… to be fucked. His hand wraps around one leg, allowing himself more room between them. He rubs his cock up and down between your folds to cover himself if your sweet creamy cunt; pressing against your clit with each swipe making your legs tremble.

With a small push forward, the tip of his cock slips into your tiny little cunt. Your eyes widen as he slowly leans his weight on to you, sinking himself deeper. A loud pathetic moan comes from König. His hips pull back and he slams himself into your again with more force. He watches as your face contorts with a mixture of heavenly bliss and immense pain.

“Oh fuck—” You cry out.

One of his hands snakes around your neck and squeezes lightly as he positions himself to get deeper, attempting to shove every single inch of himself inside of you; even if you struggle. With slow and hard thrust, he repeats that you’re his. It’s been so long since his cock has felt the delicious feeling of a tight wet gummy pussy swallowing him.

Outside, everyone continues to enjoy the warm day. None of the adults seem to realize that you’re even gone so no one is looking for you. If they were to, they would only find you sweating with König’s warm sticky cum dripping from your pussy.

Part 2