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youaresimplylovely · 7 months ago
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Fashion n' Cars (Part Three)
Pairings: F1 Grid x Verstappen!Supermodel!Reader Summary: Max Verstappen has a sister who is a famous supermodel but what happens when other F1 drivers start taking interest in her? Warnings: slight flirting, overprotective Maxie, fluff! Fc: Emily Ratajkwoski
Proofread!! A/N: yipee happy 400 followers!! Still in awe of everything but i am soooo thankful. Here's to moreee, i love u all <33 and this part is quite short bc the next one would be abt some dates 🫶🎀. Pic quali is lowww but survivable 🥹🥲
and again if u want to be added on my taglist u can input ur user on this form ^^ https://forms.gle/4Pk1HSDjTEg51Xo79
part one part two
ynverstappen
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liked by maxverstappen1, dior, and 60,236,945 others
ynverstappen som1 asked me how i like my man i like him with abs 😈
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maxverstappen1 i can see your upper boob 😀
ynverstappen thanks....? maxverstappen1 AND SO CAN THEM
user NAUR ALL OF THEM HAVE ABS THO
user6 what if it's george <3
user2 BACK OFF YA'LL ITS LEWIS
carlossainz55
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liked by ynverstappen, scuderiaferrari, and 5,876,327 others
carlossainz55 cualquier cosa por ti
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user CARLOS R U TRYING TO HIT ON MAX'S SISTER!?!!?!?
user14 hot hot hot hot
maxverstappen1 what the fuck?
carlossainz55 ¿Puedo casarme con tu hermana? maxverstappen1 no.
ynverstappen spanish men really are something else >< carlossainz55 Toda tuya bebé maxverstappen1 back off.
landonorris
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liked by oscarpiastri, ynverstappen, and 8,965,023 others
landonorris <3
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user1 IS THAT EVEN U LANDO
oscarpiastri tsk tsk all for a girl
landonorris u suck
ynverstappen i didn't know a kid could have abs
landonorris now u know babygirl maxverstappen1 no.
georgerussell63
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liked by f1, ynverstappen, and 4,834,034 others
georgerussell63 hot summer vibes
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ynverstappen wowie zowie
georgerussell63 😘 maxverstappen1 why the fuck are you giving my sister a kiss?
user23 SHIRTLESS GEORGIE
maxverstappen1 what the fuck is wrong with you people
ynverstappen
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liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, and 70,893,421 others
ynverstappen thanks for the flowers @lewishamilton @charles_leclerc @landonorris @pierregasly @carlossainz55 (comments r limited to my other only cuz he said so 🙄)
comments are limited
maxverstappen1 ha! It's only me now and where the hell is my thank you 🤨
ynverstappen wdym lol
maxverstappen1 the big red roses one were from me 😊
ynverstappen oh I thought that was from lewis anyways thanks brother 😘😘
maxverstappen1 🤦‍♀️❤️
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TAGLIST
reply here or answer the gform to be added on my taglist 🩷
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cheriladycl01 · 1 month ago
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Kinktober 20/10/2024 Carlos Sainz - Toys
Plot: Carlos finds your side draw of toys when your out with the girls and he can’t wait to try them out with you.
Warnings: Kinktober, SMUT, use of dildo, use of vibrator, use of toys, sex with toys, 18+ Minors DNI
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Carlos and you had a very active sex life but it was pretty mundane. You guys stuck to the basics, going in the order of making out, to him fingering you, to you giving him a hand job or blow job and then sex, of course in missionary because that’s all you’d ever tried.
And you knew it wasn’t an issue with Carlos because he always satisfied you in every aspect of your relationship.
However there were times when you didn’t go to a race with him and you’d have your little selfcare days. You’d go to the local spa, you’d have a massive shower where you’d shave and do all of your facial cleansing and body scrubbing to the point you felt like a squeaky clean scrubbing brush.
And then came the other aspect of your self care. And that all resided in your locked side draw in the bedside cabinet. You and Carlos had one each, even though this was your apartment, he stayed here so often between races that it just made sense he had his own space for stuff.
But all the time you were in the relationship the draw remained locked and you never showed Carlos what you did when it was just you.
You had loads of toys, ranging from purple dildos to bunny shaped vibrators, to vibrators you could store in your panties and control through a mobile app, you had as much as you could physically force into that draw.
Your use them whenever Carlos wasn’t around, it was like your smutty little secret that you were okay with just keeping to yourself as you found it kind of embarrassing, this side of you and you never wanted Carlos to think he was doing enough because he was.
But then in a rush, you’d left the draw unlocked after you’d spent a morning with your rose toy that acted like a tongue and felt like it was eating you out. It was something that was able to work motorised and faster than a natural tongue.
And Carlos had got home before you. You’d asked him to hang up a picture for you as he was sort of the handy man in the house now that he was there more often than not. He went looking for a screwdriver and some nails to see if he could get it up. And of course he went looking in your bedside cabinet when he couldn’t find it in the kitchen or the utility room.
When he opened the draw he couldn’t say he wasn’t shocked. It was so out of the ordinary for you, but then again he couldn’t really tell.
He placed them all on the bed in an order of what shocked him the most to what looked relatively normal for you.
When you got home, you chucked your bag on the entrance way floor kicking of your heels and stepping into the open plan apartment.
“Carlos?” You shout into the house expecting him to be here. You walk a little further in until you hear a shuffling noise upstairs.
“Baby is that you?” You ask, pulling your hair down and placing the clip on the counter.
“I’m in the upstairs bedroom” Carlos Spanish accent sounds throughout the house and you rush upstairs excited to see him after so long.
As you enter the bedroom, you halt the minute you see him sat on the bed dildo in hand. Your eyes go from the draw to the collection now on the bed and up to Carlos who has a straight look on his face.
“I-“ you start but don’t even know what to say here.
“Can explain? Mmmm I’m sure you can, you dirty dirty girl. Why didn’t you show me any of this” he asks looking at you intrigued.
“Well, it was just sort of for me” you explain getting a little nervous seeing all of your stuff out on the bed.
“Think we can maybe use it together?” He asks, and in his mind he was hoping and begging you’d say yes. He wanted to see you unravel so badly, and he wanted to see how you reacted to all these different toys.
“I” you start but he comes up to you, pulling you closer to him, kissing your lips and holding you by the hips.
“Please baby, needa see you” he says in that accent that you knew you couldn’t say no too. All you do is nod and he’s picking you up, and placing you gently on the bed.
“What do i use first?” He grins looking at the array of toys in the bed. He picks up a dildo and your praying he doesn’t use that first.
He then moves to a standard bullet vibrator. He holds it out inspecting it before helping you sit back, placing the edge of it to the jeans you were wearing causing a little whimper at the slight pressure.
“Why has my naughty naughty cabron got all of these little toys and not sharing them with me huh?” He says and you lurch forward as he pushes it more against your clothed core.
He starts to pull your jeans down your legs until they are fully off, your panties showing a wet spot of your arousal. He stuff the vibrator into your panties holding it against your clit, not pulling away even when your hands grab at his wrists.
He loved playing with the different speeds and vibrations on it, testing them to see which one got the best reaction form you. It was like his very own treat, being able to find out these new things about you and what you enjoyed.
He shifts through the objects until he finds your silicone dildo, a nice flexible purple one that you used often and was a size that you really enjoyed. It was actually very similar to what you knew Carlos size was.
“Mmmmm I think I’ll get you one of these but moulded to my dick so you can have me wherever and whenever I’m not here to give my girl what she needs. Because this is what all of this is about right? It’s for when I’m not here?” He grins looking at the more stuff on the bed and all you can do is nod as he ups the setting once again on the vibrator it being close to the highest straight setting.
“Fuck Carlos” you moan clenching your legs together as those vibrations hit. He keeps is there making you moan out in a pornographic sort of way. He takes this moment to slide the dildo in. Thrusting it in and out how he would if it was him and his hips driving in and out of you.
“Oh, fuck fuck baby” you cry out looking over him holding one of his hands the one that’s still and holding the vibrator on your clit.
I’m seconds you’re squirting which is something you haven’t done before. By yourself or with Carlos present but who knew when you combine your two sexual worlds you’d have one for he most transcendent nights ever.
“Oh fuck, did you just squirt mi amor?” He asks with a happy grin, excited with this new found outcome of pleasure he can entice from you.
“Carlos” you moan. He chucks the used dildo to the side and pulls his own sweatpants down, his hard cock slapping up against his stomach before he takes your own panties off chucking them on the floor with the rest of the clothes.
He positions himself above you before pushing himself in and leaning into you when he feels your wet walls clamp down around him.
“Oh fuck you’re so beautiful. Oh my god” he moans out as he can feel the vibrator that’s moving against your clit still as he pumps in and out of you. The sensation of the vibrations was like nothing he’d ever felt before and he was like a wild man. His hips snapping in and out of you.
His free hand was holding him up but he wanted nothing more than too grab your tits and play with them because he loved nothing more than you’re tits they were actually probably his favourite thing about you.
“Oh that’s it baby, hold this for me” he says grabbing your hand and making you hold the vibrator in between the two of you. His hands make a grab for your tits and he squeezes a groan coming from him as he feels you clench around him.
“Baby” you moan out before you release that tension for the second time that night.
He cums in you feeling the tightness of you build in him and the vibrator pressed onto a high yet setting.
“Fuck baby, we’re using them all the time” he groans flopping next to you on the bed careful to miss all the toys.
“Sorry I kept it from you. I don’t like to hide things from you but … I was embarrassed” you say blushing.
“Never be embarrassed of that”
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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 3 months ago
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imagine logan seeing you again, pt. 2
logan x reader
summary: In his universe, Logan and you were in love. Then you died. Now he's in a different timeline and you are very much alive.
warning: some deadpool x wolverine spoilers. this takes place after the movie. under 1k words.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
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The street was typically crowded for a Wednesday afternoon, but the hot dog in your hand lathered away all the annoyance from being shoulder checked every so often. The first bite awakened your entire body, and you felt amorous joy. It was a mild weather day and Wade had given you the task of entertaining his new roommate. Logan stood in front of you, seemingly annoyed at the way you were ignoring him and making love to the wiener in your mouth.
“You eat like a pig.”
“Oink…oink…” you murmured, finishing the dog with another anxious bite. He looked disgusted and you amused, as he checked his watch. “Stop acting like you have somewhere to be, you have nothing going on in your life at the moment.”
“Aren’t you a bed of roses.”
Ignoring him, you wiped your hands off and tossed away the napkins. “So, I personally think this is a major waste of time since I gather, you’d rather just hit up a local bar and gorge yourself into oblivion. But I told Laura I’d at least try to get you to do something fun.”
Logan, being the ray of sunshine he was, grunted but then asked how the young girl was doing. “You didn’t have to take her in.”
The two of you starting, well, just walking. There was no real plan for the day, you just picked up Logan from Wade’s apartment and told the Wolverine he was going on a little walk. Like the good little doggy he was – of course, he didn’t appreciate that last bit, but he didn’t object to the idea.
“I honestly don’t mind. It’s nice having a roommate, she’s quiet though. She’s teaching me Spanish, so that’s nice. Are you hungry?”
“You just had a hot dog.”
“It’s called an appetizer, Logan…I know a really good burger place nearby.”
He said nothing and the two of you fell into a silent pace, Logan feeling beside himself. Even a bit ashamed for stealing glances your way. You looked just like her, you – it was confusing and ultimately, he wasn’t sure what to feel. At the party, he thought he felt something and when he saw you afterwards – helping Laura settling into your apartment, it had killed him. Seeing you happy, like you always wanted. In a small apartment, instead of a huge mansion with no privacy. The X-Men were your family but there had been plenty of times when you had confessed to Logan for some peace and quiet. It wasn’t like you wanted to abandon the school, the people you loved – you just wanted a place for Logan and you. As he watched that day, moving things around for Laura, he felt peace. At least, in this universe, you got what you wanted.
“Logan?”
He apologized. “Burger sounds good.”
The man looked conflicted, and you wanted to make a funny comment, observation but something in you decided not to. Instead, you stole little peeks, he wasn’t as old as the Logan from this world, but he had some miles on him. He wasn’t exactly hard to look at either with that whole hard ass guise to him. Wade had highly under played Logan’s attractiveness and what a petty bitch he was. This thought made you chuckle loud enough to gain a look from your companion. He asked what was so funny, you said nothing.
“So, what are your plans now that you’re anchored here?”
“That would be the million-dollar question.”
“I could hook you up with an old team of mine?”
“Absolutely not.”
You began to rattle off different occupations Logan could take up – line cook, bounty hunter, librarian. The latter piqued your interest a little too much with the mere thought of Logan wearing studious glasses and a gray knit sweater making you warm. “I would definitely read more.”
He laughed, maybe even smiled. “Not a fat chance.”
“A girl could try,” you shrugged, nodding ahead. The diner was in view and Logan followed you across the street. He opened the door, and you thanked him, slightly embarrassed that you were feeling some type of way. Horny? Yikes. Maybe. It had been a while and you hardly knew Logan but that might have been the thrill. Feeling silly, you lead the man to a booth in the corner and you settled across from him. The waitress came over and slipped menus to each of you. Logan asked for a coffee while he gazed down at the limited selection of food, and you asked for a Diet Coke. You watched Logan curiously, trying to guess what he’d ordered. He didn’t seem like the type to be experimental with his meals. So, a burger combo would be the best guess and you were completely right. When the waitress came back to take your orders, Logan ordered a burger combo while you asked for a BLT. He thanked the woman and relaxed against the vinyl booth, looking out the window as people walked by.
“Is it different?”
He answered with a quick no, and you apologized for repeatedly asking that. “It’s just crazy to think about other universes, other versions of ourselves out there. Would it be weird to ask if I looked the same?”
Logan stared at you and felt his heart sink. You were beautiful, you were but he could see the differences between the woman he loved and the woman in front of him. Your eyes were filled with energy, hair a lighter tone in color, skin darker – it was like he was seeing an inverted version of the you he knew. Here, in this world, you seemed more carefree, and he was happy about it. Back home, all you ever did was worry. He never really saw you truly happy and he wondered if it was because he had loved you. In this fuck of a place, Logan and you had never interacted. Your paths never crossed and maybe that’s why you were so content. He managed an uncomfortable smile and shrugged. “Pretty much the same.”
Your face fell as the waitress arrived with the drinks. Logan took his and sipped the coffee, hoping you’d move on. It had taken much effort to even look at you now, his heart racing so fast he wanted nothing more to do than leave. Like a coward, run away. It would be so much easier than facing whatever look was in your eyes – what answer did you want? What did you want to hear? Logan felt like somehow you knew the truth and that this was all just a ploy to extract it from him but then you smiled, and a nerve was hit. A good one that had Logan glancing out the window.
“I was hoping I’d have green hair or something,” you laughed lightly. “Oh, well. Green isn’t really my color.  Listen, thanks for being such a good sport in all this. For that, how about I take you out for some beers tomorrow night? Unless you got something going on? Which we both know you don’t.”
No.
If he wanted to be a good person with his second chance he was given, that’s what he should have said. No drinks, no weird lunches, no stolen glances. He should have never agreed to even see you again, if he really wanted to change then he would have said no. In fact, he should slowly ease himself out of this friendship you were trying to establish, because what good could come of it? Everyone he loves always dies, his version of you did. Right in his arms, the last thing you felt was his warm embrace. That thought alone should have sent him packing but your eyes on him – understanding, the way your fingers played with the straw from your drink in anticipation and the friendly smile on your face, it was too much for Logan. How could he resist?
Was this a form of self-torture?
If so, he was in, but he was going to need a buffer.
“A few beers sound great, but only one condition.”
Surprised, you agreed. “Anything.”
Logan sighed. Deeply. “As much as this pains me, you gotta invite numb nuts.”
.............
leave comment for a tag. (I tagged those from the OG post who seemed interested in seeing a second part)
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winterzsurprise · 1 year ago
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Taking care of you || Miguel O'hara
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Pairing: Miguel O'hara x f!reader
Summary: Miguel comes home after a rough week and a half out of his universe and you decided that the only way to take care of him was to web him down.
Tags: NOT BETA READ, SMUT, bondage, overstimulation, denied orgasms, multiple orgasms, blowjob, blindfolds, he bites you and paralyzes you, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), big dick Miguel, sub Miguel (ig??? he still try to get the upper hand throughout)
Words: 2k
I was struggling because all the words I know are aggressive because I watch gaming streamer (Quackity & Roier) and I don't think moaning pendejo or chinga tu madre is very sexy.
Spanish speakers, tell me what moanable curses you guys have, it's for science (I am begging u)
mi vida - my life || cariño - honey || mi amor - my love || dios mio - my god || mierda - shit || puta madre - motherfucker
When Miguel came home after a long week and a half, he’d expect a heartful meal to consume before passing out on a warm bed beside you. To get bound on the chair with a special web fluid designed to keep him down in the dimly lit apartment is not one of those expectations.
Being a Spider-Man with no spider senses, his first instinct was to break out of the binds, calming down and unmasking once he caught a whiff of your scent.
“Mi vida? What are you planning this time?”
“Nada, is it a crime to want to take care of you?”
Your touch burned through his suit as you dragged your fingers across his chest. After days without being to see nor feel your presence near him, the desire in his chest grew from a pea sized to universal.
“I’ll give you thirty minutes to finish what you planned before I break out of this shit.”
You grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look over his shoulder where you stood so mysteriously with no indication of your clothing visible to his eyes.
“You won’t.”
Miguel chuckled. “Why not? I can probably break out of this if I want to.”
“I’ll go back home to my dimension for a month and you wouldn’t even be able to find me since you’d be busy with work.”
He frowned, cursing under his breath to which you giggled at.
“Are you going to break out, mi amor?”
He said nothing, turning away bitterly and you took it as a win. 
“Now, let me take care of you.”
When your lips first touched his neck, a spark went off in his veins. He grunts as your hands start roaming his chest with feather-light touches, forcing him to retract the suit to be able to feel your warmth on his skin to complete the gaping hole in his chest.
There was something about Miguel being tied up, hopeless and responsive to your touches as depravity clawed at his chest.
The frustrated groan when you pulled away to reposition yourself to sit on his lap told you everything you knew, the tent poking you when you sat on him was also a confirmation. Placing a kiss on his cheekbones, you pulled out the blindfold from your pockets and he groaned.
"Really?"
"Oh shush."
You've read somewhere about blindfolds enhancing the experience as a whole, something about taking out one sense amplifying the others and decided to try it out tonight.
And Miguel having sharper senses than most Spider people only made your plan irresistible to not do.
Tying it around his eyes, you find yourself enamored with how vulnerable and submissive he looks right now.
"Darling, you look so pretty like this."
He scoffed. "I would look better on top of you, cariño."
"Fair enough."
Unbuttoning his shirt, you placed light kisses on every inch of skin exposed to your eyes while he'd sigh at the feeling of your lips on him. You weren't able to unbutton it all nor push it away due to the webs but you deemed it perfect as long as his pecs and some parts of his collarbones are out in the open.
Turning your attention to his pants, you captured his lips with yours and it instantly grew heated with a hunger not even a meal alone can satisfy. Pulling his fly down, your hands rose to tug at his hair to which he groaned, a reaction you've never had in the past.
Is it really effective?
Pulling away, you tugged on his waistbands and pulled them down to reveal his girth standing at full attention leaking with pre-cum.
"Fuck… touch me."
“You’re not in control here.”
Even then, you wrapped your hand around his dick and even that alone got his breath stuck to his throat.
Maybe you should bring the blindfold more often…
Pumping him leisurely, he threw his head back, melting into the chair, thighs spreading wider as the enhanced ecstasy spiked his veins, stirring every fiber of his system awake.
"Mierda, th-that feels so good…" 
The sight of his glistening chest heaving heavily as sweat beads on his forehead is enough to make your nose bleed till the next year. A memory forever ingrained in your mind. 
You trailed kisses on his collarbones and up to the side of his neck. Miguel's streams of mumbled Spanish curses and shaky exhales should be classified as a drug with how addicted and how greedily you were engulfing every noise he makes.
"You look so pretty like this baby, it makes me want to tease you a little."
He said nothing, reveling in the nirvana you offered him so generously. His hips struggled and writhed in the small space he was allowed to, chasing his promised euphoria with desperation.
But before he could notify you, you unmounted him and he let out a frustrated groan. Miguel was about to rip the binds until you got to your knees, only to web his feet to the chair legs as well and he grew more tempted to do so.
"Come on! Even the feet?"
"Gotta secure the package, darling."
Placing chaste kisses on his weeping head, the complaints died down in his throat. You then laved your tongue around his slit, gathering as much of his pre-cum and he groaned, dick twitching in your hold. His taste is heavy on your tongue and you moan.
You missed him on your tongue.
Taking his whole cockhead, Miguel flinched, arms struggling behind him as you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked hard while circling your tongue around his girth, providing him multiple sensations surrounding his girth.
"Dios mio, remove this blindfold. I wanna see you." He said, almost begging. "Please?"
"No, you look prettier this way."
Your hands stroked the places your mouth couldn't reach and Miguel's thighs trembled. His pants and borderline whimpers sounded like a sweet melody, the sight of his perspired skin glistening under the moonlight with his head thrown back burning itself at the back of your lids.
You'd stop at nothing to be able to see him like this again.
Then you heard a snap from the webs and you halted, pulling away to his absolute dismay.
"No no no no, ay puta madre—"
"Stop struggling and maybe I will continue."
He didn't say anything, his fuzzy mind struggling to conjure any good bargain to bring up.
"R-remove the blindfold then I'll consider."
"Nope."
He groaned, almost whiny and you grinned. Miguel slowly settled down, suppressing himself from breaking more threads. Once you deemed him behaved enough, you dipped down to take him in once more.
Relaxing your mouth, you sink in another inch of him before descending as further as you could go and pumping the other areas you knew you couldn't reach. The groan that left his lips was guttural, almost animalistic.
"Fuck, I'm near. Deeper cariño, I know you can do it."
Pinching his shaking thighs, you quickened your strokes while waiting for any tell tale of his climax. When his breathing picked up and his abdomen pulsed, you pulled away.
And Miguel whimpered.
And he realized it a little too late, cheeks darkening as he groaned in embarrassment.
"You did not hear that."
You laughed lightly. "But it was cute."
"Fuck your cute and pretty bullshit, why did you pull away?!"
You grinned. "I liked seeing you struggle."
"Ripping this off gets very tempting every passing second."
"I'll run away and don't think I won't do it."
The sound of you shedding off your shorts stopped him from mumbling incoherent complaints. You swung your leg over his thighs and placed yourself above his weeping dick. With his sense of smell
"Don't break from the webs, alright? If you do—"
"You'll run away, I know. Just fucking get on with it."
"So impatient, what if I don't do anything at all?"
"I will break off these chains and take you on the floor. Don't tempt me." He growled, pushing his arms out, stretching the webs as a demonstration.
Rolling your eyes, you lined him against your heat and sank down, the hardest part of your plan for the evening. Despite trying your best to stretch yourself out earlier before his arrival along with the drenched state you're in, it proved useless with how difficult it was to have him.
You hissed as the burn of the stretch lit your veins on fire and Miguel grunted, arms twitching at his sides.
"St-stop clenching so hard!"
"Not my fault you have a big dick!"
As you take in more of his inches, Miguel grew crazy at the warm tightness surrounding him reawakening the denied orgasm earlier. The blindfold taking away his sight only magnified the pleasure flooding his system to the brim. The coil in his abdomen tightened and he threw his head back, absolutely light-headed and drunk on ecstacy.
"Le-let me bite you, yeah? It'll go away. Fuck…! I'm so close..."
You didn't second guess his intentions, falling to his shoulder with your neck bared to his lips. Trusting your Spider-Man genes, he spared no time leaning down and sinking his fangs into you.
You gasped at the feeling of his incisors piercing your skin as your mind grew fuzzy and your body numbed itself to paralysis. Miguel, desperate for his climax, plunged his entire length into you before thrusting savagely in and out of your heat.
The sound of a hundred threads ripping off cuts through the air, his arms surged from behind the chair to curl around you. His heavy exhales, borderline whines, made your brain short circuit as he chased after his denied orgasms ferociously.
Panting openly on your shoulders with your name vaguely murmured like a mantra, you moaned at his sounds as he came with a shout, the feeling of his liquid arousal spurting into you made you shiver with delight but the shaking thighs beneath you only fueled your arousal further.
"F-fuck…! Thank you cariño. Mierda..." 
The paralysis ebbs away while Miguel continues to convulse, albeit weaker than before. Mouth hung open as he threw his head back, hands falling to your waists.
"How rude, you didn't even consider my pleasure, mi amor."
His grip on your sides tightened as you bounced on his dick and he faltered, trembling as he gasped and groaned at the overstimulation nipping at his senses. His hands tapped your thighs, asking for some rest and you slowed, waiting for him to use your safeword.
When he didn't, you picked up your previous pace and grinned.
"But when I did that, did you stop, cariño?"
He didn't answer as streams of Spanish curses and colorful words escaped his mouth. 
"Exactly, so take it like a king, alright? Maybe I'll forgive you for getting off the web."
You rolled your clit in tight and fast circles, growing merciful for him as his sounds turned into whimpers and pleads. The sinful sight of his sweaty self blindfolded and body intoxicated by ecstasy along with his beautiful noises was enough to bring you to the edge.
With a few strokes and rolls of your beads, you came. Warmth explodes from your chest to your fingertips and you let yourself sag to his shoulder whilst he grunted at the stings of overstimulation still mouthing at him as your walls pulsed around him.
"Fuck…! G-get off…"
He didn't even manage to get his sentence out when he exploded again inside of you and practically lost consciousness with how lax he turned beneath you.
Concerned, you tapped his cheeks. "Baby, are you still there?"
It took a while but he eventually answered, removing the blindfolds himself to peer up at you with glazed eyes. "Barely… You won't leave right?"
"Yeah, I was joking."
"Alright…"
You smiled, placing kisses on his forehead, cheeks, and lips. Miguel's face bloomed at this, grinning slightly.
"You did so well, darling."
He only nods. "I'm confiscating that solution by the way, you're not webbing me up again."
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greensagephase · 6 months ago
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For Better or Worse - Part 1
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Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x Female!Reader Summary: Your siblings are marrying in two weeks and as the best man and maid of honor, Miguel and you are dragged to the dance lessons for moral support despite disliking each other. There, you're forced to pretend to be a couple. Word Count: 3k Warnings: slightly suggestive comments from the dance instructor, so MDNI; reader speaks and understands Spanish; unnamed sister for reader; reader and Miguel are grumpy with each other, so don't expect any smooching, but there's tension, hehe A/N: this was supposed to be a simple thought based on a movie scene (vid below the cut) that turned into something longer (a blessing and a curse). Thank you for reading! Masterlist
Source: The Wedding Date (2005)
Your little sister, or not so little since she’s all grown up, found love and is now getting married to Gabriel O’Hara. You’re elated about them marrying, truly. Ever since your sister met Gabriel, you could tell they were made for each other. They’re both so sweet and kind, sometimes they remind you of Jane Bennet and Mr. Bingley from Pride and Prejudice, too good for their own good.
They’re truly made for each other and you have to admit, Gabriel squeezed his way into your heart fairly quickly with how great he treats your sister, so it didn’t take long before you started to see him as part of the family.
But of course, a rose comes with its thorns. Or, in your case, your sister’s now fiancé, comes with a brother.
Miguel O’Hara.
You cannot stand the man.
And he cannot stand you.
That’s the one thing you have in common, the mutual dislike.
You finally met him and Gabriel’s parents when the relationship between your siblings became serious. You expected to like Gabriel’s family, and you did, everyone except Miguel. The two of you simply didn’t click. It was dislike at first sight.
Of course, you try to be polite to each other for the sake of your siblings, but when they’re not in sight, keeping an eye on either of you, your dislike is shown through scowls and narrowed eyes.
You try to stay clear from each other as much as possible, something that has become harder to do as your siblings’ relationship has turned more and more serious.
And now, the proximity will be unavoidable. Gabriel popped the question a year ago and that’s how you find yourself parked outside a dance studio, two weeks before the big day.
With you being your sister’s maid of honor and Miguel the groom’s best man, that means you’ve both been in each other’s presence more than usual to support the couple as they’ve gone through the wedding planning.
And that includes the freaking dance lessons.
As soon as everyone arrives, all four of you enter the building. Of course, Miguel and you avoid each other as you both quickly scan the place before your gazes find your siblings’ sheepish smiles towards the two of you. The sight immediately makes Miguel and you tense.
Those sheepish smiles are no good, you both know that too well. Those are the smiles of younger siblings about to ask something from you. Something neither of you are probably going to like.
“So… we asked you to come along today for moral support,” you sister starts, fidgeting with her hands.
“Because we really do need it but there’s another reason…” Gabriel adds, trailing off.
“What is it, Gabriel?” Miguel asks, his tone low with a hint of impatience.
“So… the instructor is a well known one in the community. They’re really good at what they do! It’s why we wanted to get lessons from her, but she had a tight schedule and it was looking like we almost didn’t get a spot. She said she’d only do it if we brought along another couple, unmarried if possible, but one that might potentially marry in the future. You know, as a way to get more business in the future…” Gabriel replies, offering a nervous smile.
“So, Gabri and I figured that…” your sister trails off.
Both Gabriel and your sister stare at you and Miguel, with hope in their eyes as their little plan sinks in.
“No way,” you say immediately, declining anything related to Miguel.
“Aw, please. It’s just a dance lesson. Just for today! Two hours at the most,” your sister tries.
“No.”
“You guys just need to act nice with each other, that’s all. Easy,” Gabriel says, shrugging as if he’s never ran into someone he didn’t like, which might actually be true. “I mean - we’re family now. Not officially, yet,” Gabriel adds giving his future wife a smile that shows pure love. “Very soon, just two more weeks and finally.”
Miguel and you watch, your siblings forgetting for about five seconds about death glares they’re receiving as of right now.
Yes, they’re really too good for their own good. Or, maybe they’re just using their younger sibling privilege and the fact that they’re in love to get their older siblings to give in.
At last, Gabriel turns again as if he just now realizes - or feels - the glares.
“We’re basically family now. You’re going to see each other more often, unless you plan on not attending any family gatherings from here on now, or making some rotating schedule on who gets to go when. It’s just a dance practice, please,” Gabriel pleads, trying to reason with you.
“Gabriel, no,” Miguel says annoyed, exasperated that he and your sister would even think about this considering the fact that neither he nor you like each other.
“Please, if you don’t, she might cancel the session, or charge us double, or something.”
“She can’t do that,” you say. “Can she?”
“Please,” Gabriel and your sister say in unison, something they do a lot, which kind of annoys you sometimes, to be honest.
“It’s not like we’re asking you to kiss. Just - act like a couple,” you sister says. “Please, just for today.”
Miguel and you are both about to tell your siblings why this is inadequate, but you only manage to open your mouths before a woman comes in with a too cheerful smile on her face, stopping you from proceeding. Her presence in the room suddenly shuts all debating, leaving no room for Miguel and you to reiterate that neither of you wish to do this.
“Wonderful! Two couples. My name is Lyla,” she says turning to Miguel and you. “I’m your dance instructor. Let’s not waste any time, yes? The wedding is in two weeks! We need to start working immediately. Everybody, on the floor, please. Let’s go, you two as well, don’t be shy now.” Lyla walks over, immediately pushing Miguel and you forward. “You can be shy in each other’s arms, let’s go.”
You briefly wonder how this woman has so much strength to push the two of you into the floor but that’s quickly forgotten as she continues to speak.
“There. Ah - I see our engaged couple is ready to go,” she comments, making Miguel and you turn to find your siblings already in position, ready to dance. “Let me get these two going, they’re sooooo shy,” Lyla comments with a soft smirk, motioning to Miguel and you.
You both scowl when you hear your siblings laugh, something that cuts their laughter short and turn away.
“Sir, you need to place your hand right here. On your woman’s waist, come on, I’m sure you’ve held her before,” Lyla instructs, grabbing his wrist and placing it on your waist, making it so that Miguel’s hand grips you. Unused to his touch, you squirm when you feel Miguel’s warm hand on you. You try backing away but Lyla only pushes you forward, into Miguel’s touch.
“My, you two are really shy,” she says as she takes your hand and places it on Miguel’s shoulder, allowing you to feel his broad muscles beneath his top. “You need to learn to embrace each other. It’s intimacy.” She pushes you both together now, forcing Miguel to take more steps towards you. Again, you question how much strength Lyla has to move you like straw dolls, especially a man like Miguel. Maybe you’re both so dumbfounded by this situation, your bodies are just doing as she says, pushing you into this abnormal situation. The only sense of normalcy comes from the glares Miguel and you are shooting at each other. “Dancing is like - making love, I’m sure you two know what I’m talking about,” Lyla says before her eyebrows shoot up, thinking of something. “Unless you’re waiting for marriage then… that’s a tough one, but I think you might have an idea of what I mean.” At that, Lyla grins at the two of you.
Miguel and you silently groan at the thought of you two making love, meanwhile Gabriel and your sister are laughing in the back. You turn and give them a glare, same from Miguel, shutting them up.
“I can see you’re both tense. There’s so much - so much tension between you,” Lyla says, hand on her chin as if contemplating something deeply. “It’s that kind of tension only found in the bedroom, you know? Hm… Alright, you’’l be the leader. That means you lead the dance, sir,” she says patting Miguel’s arm.
You turn at that because why does he get to lead you?
“Why does he lead?” you ask, eyebrow raised.
“Uhh - okay, I see it now,” Lyla says with a smile, as if everything makes sense now. “That’s why there’s so much tension. You’re both - very dominant. I suppose you’re both - you switch, right? You’re switches?”
“What?” Miguel says with knitted eyebrows and a slightly opened mouth due to the shock because there’s no way this lady just asked that, right?
“Excuse me?” you manage to say, equally appalled.
“You take turns,” Lyla explains. “On who is dominant In the bedroom. The question is who will be the dominant one on the dance floor.”
You turn to look at Miguel, brows knitted. Not only are you being forced to pretend to be his partner but now you’re apparently “switches” and fighting for who dominates who. It’s stupid, you know that, but this has turned into a competition of sorts, and there’s no way you’re letting Miguel O’Hara lead you, even if it’s pretend.
“I assure you, it’ll be me. Just like how it is in the bedroom,” you state which earns you a squeeze from Miguel’s hand on your waist.
“We both know that’s not the case, amor [love],” Miguel replies through gritted teeth.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Lyla pipes in between you, amused. “I love your energy, though. Alright, time to dance!”
You exhale heavily. Just why did your sister have to drag you into this? Oh right, you’re her maid of honor and the man with his hand on your waist right now is the best man.
You’re stuck in this situation now, whether you like it or not. So, Miguel and you stand like two stiff boards against each other, meanwhile your younger siblings are in another dimension of rainbows and love. They already forgot about their older siblings since they got away with their little plan.
You sigh again and turn to face Miguel, standing in front of each other, like two statues. As the minutes have ticked by with Lyla’s talk about intimacy and dominance, your fingers are now interlaced, though neither of you have noticed yet.
“Just dance, guys. I want to see what I’m working with here,” Lyla says, hands on her hips as she watches the scene in front of her, music playing in the background now.
Stiffly, Miguel and you begin to move, taking steps side by side for a good minute or so before you look up at him. Staring at hm, you notice he seems… tense. Despite yourself, you can’t help but poke fun at him.
“¿Qué pasa, Miguel? ¿Tienes dos pies izquierdos? [What's up, Miguel? You have two left feet?]” You ask mockingly, which earns yourself a half scowl because Lyla is watching you.
Miguel grips your fingers and waist as you continue to dance. You still have a soft smirk on your face, satisfied with Miguel’s annoyance when suddenly, you’re tripping over his foot. Your breath hitches as you feel yourself falling but before that happens, you feel Miguel’s wrapped arm around your waist tighten, catching you. To further annoy you, he expertly uses his other hand and maneuvers you so that your back is leaning on his arm now, with you looking up at him as he leans down. For about three or four seconds, his dark eyes bore into yours before he spins you back to face him correctly.
Annoyed, you return the gesture and slam your foot on his, causing him to grimace in pain. Holding your hand, he pushes you back with a scowl before pulling you back harshly.
“Para tu información, princesa, sé bailar [for your information, little princess, I know how to dance],” he murmurs, staring down at you.
“Hm, I wonder where from? You never dance at parties.”
“And you do? All you do is sit at the table like you’re too good to accept any man’s offer for a dance,” Miguel replies as you move across the dance floor.
Somewhere, your siblings are already receiving help from Lyla, who’s instructing them on proper hand placement.
“And you? You stand around with the other men, talking about God knows what.”
“Women, of course,” Miguel sarcastically replies as he spins you around before bringing you back to him. “We talk about the women dancing and the ones who don’t, either because they’re too shy to dance, or just snobs, como tu… comprenderas [like you... understand, comprehend].”
You scoff. “Is that them, or your personal opinion of me?” you ask, pulling back from him, hands still joined.
Miguel snickers and pulls you back, your chest slamming right into his. You scowl in response. “Quiero decirte algo [I want to tell you something].” He spins you around again. “We are going to make this work.”
“Make what work?”
“This,” Miguel says as he pulls you back in. He stares at you while you keep dancing. “I’m not going to miss out on my brother’s life. Gabriel and I are close, always have been. I have no intentions of stepping out and missing out on his life, him building a life with your sister.” He turns you around, pressing your back to his chest, his arms crossed over your body, as if keeping you locked in them to ensure you’ll listen clearly. “I’m going to be there, at every family gathering. If they have children, you better bet I’m going to be there at every birthday party, or soccer game. So, I want you to know that right now. We’re either going to make this work, or you’ll be missing out, because I’m not stepping out.”
You scoff again, and to his great annoyance and astonishment, free yourself from his arms to face him once more. You place a hand on his chest, leading him back.
“I have no intentions of missing out, O’Hara. Don’t even think about it. Being part of my sister’s life heavily outweighs the annoyance of seeing your unpleasant face.”
Miguel scoffs and wraps his large hand around your wrist before he pulls you forward, your faces mere inches from each other.
“Unpleasant face? You must be blind, princesita [little princess]. Maybe I ought to take you somewhere to get those pretty eyes checked if that’s how you see my face,” he murmurs, staring right into your eyes.
You snort and pull back. “You’re not everyone’s cup of tea, O’Hara, but I digress. I’m going to be part of my sister’s life, too. So, get used to it.”
Miguel smirks, pulling you right back against his chest. “For better or worse, we'll tolerate each other. For them,” he murmurs, staring right into your eyes.
“For them,” you agree, meeting his gaze.
For the first time, you really look into his eyes. You’ve never been quite this close to the man, not enough to appreciate their color - a deep brown with a slight maroon undertone. You see the gentle wrinkles under his eyes and forehead, probably from his job as the CEO from some company you've never bothered to learn the name of. A quick peek at his slightly parted mouth allows you to really notice the plump lips. You’ve never noticed it before, but one side of his upper lip is higher than the other, adding to the full lips. You even manage to notice a crooked tooth at the front of his teeth, something that makes you pause internally for some reason.
In a society worried all about looks, Miguel hasn't had that fixed. You glance back into Miguel's eyes but his are somewhere else, somewhere around your mouth. You don’t have enough time to question why his eyes are there though.
His eyes meet yours again, his throat showing a visible gulp as the image of your lips flashes in his head. Staring at your eyes, he once again takes notice of your eye color and the way your eyelashes frame your eyes, something he’s noticed before.
“That!”
Miguel and you instantly pull away, releasing each other. Lyla quickly approaches you, smiling.
“That's the look I was hoping for,” she says. “A look of pure passion, tension, sexiness… love” she says, giddily. “That’s the way to dance! Oh, I have no doubt you two will know exactly how to dance when your wedding date comes. I have seen enough. Take five while I revisit my initial plan, our engaged couple needs a little more help than you two,” Lyla says giving you both a wink. “There’s a lot of love there but they can’t dance to save their lives, unlike you two. If you want to take a seat and just talk, you lovebirds.” Lyla nods and heads off to your siblings, immediately laying out what needs work.
Miguel and you stand side by side, watching in silence for a few seconds before Miguel breaks the silence.
“I need to make - a work call. I’ll be outside while they get finished,” he says, pulling out his cell phone.
“Sure, you go and do that,” you reply, staring at the other three people, not sparing Miguel a glance.
He faces you, watching you for a few seconds as if expecting you to say anything else, or maybe waiting for you to face him, but you never do.
“Great,” he mutters before he walks away. A few seconds later you hear the studio’s door close.
You sigh heavily. You didn’t even know you were holding your breath. He’s so annoying, so - You do a little head shake, clearing your mind. You’ve both agreed to tolerate each other for the sake of your siblings - to be part of their lives.
“For better or worse,” you murmur to yourself.
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Next Part
A/N: Leaving it open-ended because this was only supposed to be a blurb and then I kept going! Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed this!! <33
Edit: This became a short fic 💀
Alondra❤️
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soleilapproves · 1 month ago
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Imagine being on a business trip with coworker!Nanami and he surprises you with the fact that he can dance (ITS A GOOD CONCEPT I SWEAR)
Also, I don’t drink so I don’t know much info on ordering drinks at a restaurant </3
Masterlist
-•-
Nanami has always been the only coworker you could tolerate. You both had immediately gotten along on your first day and had been friends ever since. You liked him because he was the most competent man in your department. He liked you because you did your work well and occasionally baked homemade focaccia for him.
You could say that the two of you were very good friends (since Gojo from Accounting said that he was Nanami’s self proclaimed best friend first).
Which is why you thanked the stars when you found out that he’d be the only one who’d be going on the annual business trip with you. He was the perfect travel partner, he offered to bump you up to a first class seat with him using HIS miles (because he couldn’t besr being separated from you since your old seat was all the way back in business class). He didn’t even drink the entire flight because he believed that it was unprofessional on a business trip.
Did I also mention that he offered to pay for your inflight WiFi? Swoon.
The week long business trip went great! Your clients were very happy with the presentations that the two of you did together and called you a great team! (Take that Gojo from Accounting). To celebrate your last night, the two of you went to a restaurant / dance bar. The dance floor wasn’t packed but it was crowded with people who were drinking and having a good time. The two of you watched all the couples dancing and you couldn’t help but feel a little woeful.
Nanami noticed how you wouldn’t stop staring at all the couples in the restaurant / bar. “I know what you’re thinking.” He said with a small smile. “What?” You mimic his smile, feeling a deer caught in headlights. “You wanna dance, don’t you?”
You can’t believe him. “What? No! I just, I don’t know. I feel like this is the kind of place couples come to. It would be nice to be here with a date instead of my coworker-slash-friend. No offense.” You confessed. But to be fair, this particular part of the night didn’t feel like a business trip. It felt like two friends hanging out. “None taken.” He put his hands up in defense. “Since you’re so down-” he looked away from you mid sentence and rose his hand. “Can we get some shots here!”
You were surprised at his sudden change of mind. “I thought you didn’t drink on business trips.” He simply shrugged and downed one shot as soon as the waiter arrived. “And we have an early flight in the morning.” You continued as he downed another. “You only live once.” He said as he winked. “Plus, we’re done with all the work. The business part of this trip is over.” Did the alcohol get to him already?
You could see him starting to get agitated with the way his head slowly bobbed to the Spanish music playing through the speakers. You never realized how attractive Nanami could be when he let go of himself. His blond hair was all disheveled, his tie barely hanging on to his neck with the way he had pulled it loose, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows giving you a delicious view of his veiny forearms. You hate to admit it but your friend was HOT.
He suddenly got up while continuing to bob his head, but this time, there was some extra movement in his shoulders. “Where are you going?” He didn’t reply but made a gesture where he used his fingers to say ‘keep your eyes on me.’
He started moving to the upbeat Spanish song, matching the sound of the guitar. “You know salsa?” You exclaimed, still sitting. He nodded as he asked you to come closer with his pointer finger. You felt like you were entranced, so you took a shot and walked to him.
He instantly took the lead by grabbing you by your waist and turning you around so that you were sinfully pressed against him. He had a strong grip on your hips so that you both could move simultaneously to the music. This was way more intimate than grinding at some random dude in a club.
He spun you around and held you quite firmly for a tipsy person so that you wouldn’t fall. When he dipped you, you could feel his warm breath against your neck as he leaned in. At this point, the two of you were stealing the show so all the locals moved out and started cheering the two of you.
He ended the dance with lifting you and spinning you around. You held on as tightly as you could since the alcohol was making you feel light headed. Once the music stopped, the crowd started clapping at your little show and you both couldn’t stop laughing and staring into each other’s eyes. Nanami suddenly stopped laughing and kept glancing at your lips. He wanted to kiss them but he knew better than to do it in front of an audience.
“You wanna get out of here?” He breathed out.
-•-
Idk how to write smut (for now).
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eringobragh420 · 1 month ago
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🖤 Pairing: Damian Priest x f!Reader 🖤 Summary: Damian’s girlfriend and Rhea have a deep hatred for one another, leaving Damian in the middle to referee. 🛑 Warnings: NSFW. Overstimulation, unprotected p in v, cum 18+ 🖤 Notes: Spanish translations are at the end of the story. I do not speak Spanish, so if anything is incorrect, please let me know and I’ll fix it! Thank you so much to @miss-kuki-nz for being my muse 🖤 Taglist: In the comments. If you’d like to be added, please click here! 🖤 Requested By: @twistedprincess-92. Hope you enjoy! 🖤 MASTERLIST
“I am so tired of this bullshit,” Damian complained, unlocking the front door to his and his girlfriend’s home. He shoved it open, and no matter how angry he was, the man never forgot his manners, so he motioned for the tiny woman beside him to enter ahead of him.
Had she not been absolutely livid at the moment, she’d have swooned, as she was prone to doing, but as the situation stood, there would definitely be no swooning this time. “You and me both, babe,” she hissed as she passed him.
Damian slammed the door and locked it before stomping after her into the living room. He watched as she kicked her heels off and doffed her leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the couch. She crossed her arms, and he knew it was going to be a long night. “You’re acting like you’re the one that should be mad right now,” he said, motioning in her direction.
“Are you saying I’m not?” she asked evenly, brows in her hairline, and it was that perfectly held-together tone that gave Damian an ominous chill down his spine.
“Yeah, I’m saying you’re not. I’m the one that has to referee his girlfriend and his best friend every damn time we go out somewhere.”
“Oh, poor you,” his girlfriend spat. “At least you’re not the one getting called a golddigger!”
“She did not call you a golddigger.”
“Wait, no, you’re right. What she said was you’re just like all the rest. Like the girl you dated before me who spent all your money.”
“She’s just looking out for me.”
“Well, Damian, which is it? Did she not say it or is she protecting a six-foot-five grown ass man who can take care of himself?”
Damian’s hands came to his head but they dropped quickly. “You both literally want the same thing. I don’t understand any of this.”
“Maybe we do want the same thing, but she’s the one being a bitch about it.”
“Oh, great. Next you’re gonna tell me she’s the one that started it.”
“Actually, she did.”
Damian’s eyes went to the ceiling. He couldn’t believe they were having this argument again. It had been almost a year since he’d introduced the love of his life to his best friend, and ever since that day, he hadn’t had a moment’s peace. Maybe the two women were simply too alike and would consequently never get along. So where did that leave him? He refused to choose between them, and he refused to allow them to bully him into choosing between them. Had they reached an impasse? Was this just supposed to be his life now? And when the couple inevitably got married, was Rhea not going to be invited?
“And what if I just say I’m done with it?” he suddenly asked, turning his head to look at his girlfriend.
She stared at him. “What does that mean?”
Damian sighed. “Never mind.”
“You wanna be done with me?”
“I didn’t say—“
“The hell you didn’t. I’m not in Rhea’s cool book, so you’re just gonna toss me aside?”
“You’re not lis—”
“Fuck you, Damian.”
His brows rose and he nodded. “Fuck me?”
“Fuck you.”
She stomped past him, glaring the whole way, and it was clear she didn’t want to be followed, nor did he particularly want to follow her. He knew the door slam was coming, but he still jumped just the same as he removed his jacket, dropping it over the back of the couch before he fell onto the cushions with a heavy sigh. He scrubbed his hands over his face, grabbed the remote, and turned on the television knowing full well he wasn’t interested in watching anything.
He was all threats, and she knew it. He wasn’t going to break up with her, and he wasn’t going to sever ties with Rhea, either. He would live with it, he supposed, like he had been, spending the rest of his life hoping things would change. In the meantime, he’d have to keep them separated. Like children.
“Damian?”
Damian stirred, clearing his throat, and his eyes slowly blinked open. He must have fallen asleep at some point as he was now prone on the couch, one boot on the cushion, the other on the floor. Had he heard his name in a dream? He sat up, yawning, and arched his back to work out the kinks.
“Papí?” his girlfriend called again from upstairs.
“Yeah, babe?” he replied, looking over his shoulder toward the staircase.
“Will you please come to bed?”
He smirked. Yeah, he was gonna live with it. He loved her too damn much. “I’m on my way.” He pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time, discovering a message from Rhea.
I love you, twin. I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.
Damian’s smile only grew and his heart swelled, but then realized his girlfriend hadn’t been the first one to apologize. Did that bother him? Did it really matter? He could build on this. Light at the end of the tunnel. He turned the TV off before climbing the stairs and made his way down the corridor toward their bedroom. The door was open and the lights were off save for the nightlight near the bed on her side—she’d never admitted to it, but she had at least a slight fear of the dark. She was in bed, under the blankets, facing him, the azure hue from the nightlight painting her face in blues and shadows. Damian took his clothes off and crawled under the blankets behind her, pulling her naked body to his. That distended heart of his promised to pop, as his girlfriend cuddled back into him, rubbing her ass against his cock, moaning when his arms wrapped around her.
“I’m sorry, baby,” she mumbled. “You’re right. I’ve been a jerk. Rhea and I can figure this out.”
Damian’s grin could have lit up the entire room. They are just alike. He kissed her neck softly, attacking her spots as his hand drifted along her body. She squirmed when he cupped her breast, rocking her hips against his. “I know you will,” he growled, omitting the text from Rhea. “Because you’re wonderful.” He pinched an already hard nipple, ripping a groan from deep in her throat. “And you’re perfect.” His stiffening cock thrust against the crack of her ass, and she reached back to clutch his hip over the blankets. “And you’re so fucking sexy.”
She giggled. “You sweet-talker.”
“Mhmmm,” Damian mumbled, nibbling on her earlobe. His warm hand slid from her breast, the pads of his fingers skating along her abdomen, and she lifted her leg so those fingers could slip into her dampening pussy.
“Fuck,” she whined, tightening her thighs around his hand as she rode his digits. “Shouldn’t this be the other way around?” she breathed. “I’m the one that screwed up.”
“That makes me right,” Damian boasted, “which means I get what I want. And this is what I want.” His middle finger slid inside her, her hips bucking to accept and bring him deeper. “I’m gonna make you cum at least three times before I even fuck that pussy.”
And he made good on his word, working her over with his fingers until she was trembling beside him not once, not twice, but three times, and by the third time, his girlfriend was a sobbing, quivering, begging-for-mercy mess. She almost protested when Damian began to slide his stiff manhood inside her, and maybe she did a little, but her objection was weak and unconvincing. His hand on her thigh lifted her leg in the air, she pivoted her hips, and her pussy sucked him deeper within her, Damian groaning.
“God, I can’t,” she all but wept, “I can’t, I can’t.” She repeated the words in time with Damian’s pumps, and he nuzzled her neck with tender kisses.
“Yes, you can,” Damian panted. “You’re doing so good. You can take just a little bit more.” He placed her leg gently on top of its twin, tightening her already impossibly tight cunt, and he squeezed her hip before thrusting into her. “That’s it,” he whispered, watching with wild eyes as his girlfriend fisted the sheets and bit down on the pillowcase, “take it for Papí.”
His girlfriend lurched, strangled sounds escaping her lips as her pussy pulsed around him. And that was enough to send Damian over the edge. He pressed his face to her hair and emptied himself inside her, his hips stuttering, pounding, pausing, thrusting again. After several moments, he tried to pull out, but she grabbed hold of him anyway she could, and that’s where he stayed.
“Don’t even think about moving for at least the next five to seven hours.”
Damian chuckled. “Little sensitive?”
His girlfriend scoffed. “You would be too if you just came three times in a row.”
“Oh, you didn’t cum while we were fucking? Let me fix that.”
Her grip on him tightened. “Don’t even think about it. I swear, I don’t even know what Rhea and I are fighting about. I’m the one that needs protection from you.”
Damian laughed again. “I love you, mi vida.”
“I love you … jerk.” 🎀 Papí - Daddy 🎀 Mi vida - My life
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saint-ajax · 1 month ago
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༒ OCT. 09 | El Sin Nombre
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༒ KINKTOBER
TW: 18+ | TEASING | EDGING | THIGH HUMPING | DRY HUMPING | ORAL SEX | VAGINAL FINGERING | PHONE CALL | MOMMY KINK |
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   El Sin Nombre is the faceless man who rules Las Almas. Respected out of fear. People may respect the name, but true and loyal souls of the city despise it. One thing you love about the respected, dreaded, image is that the man who built the name is a woman.
   “Sin Nombre 's personal sicaria?” you say.
   “ Si, mi amor? ” the woman's voice called out behind you. There she was. Your Valeria Garza. The hottest, most beautiful woman in your eyes.
   “ Ola, mami .” you smile giddily, excited to embrace your woman after a long morning without her. You walk closer to her, arms open and ready to wrap around her neck. 
   You did as you planned, wrapping her neck with your arms, tiptoeing to reach for her lips. She grips the back of your hips, where her fingers lie on top of your ass. She leans down to meet your soft lips. “You miss me, baby?” 
   She asks in her husky voice. “Of course,” you say as you lean back to look at her face, and rise again to kiss her. Then you do it again.
   “I still have—” you tiptoe to kiss her, “—work to do,” and again, “—I'm sorry, mami. ”
   She says as she kisses back every time you rise up to meet her lips while she caresses your ass. “Okay..” you say with a slight pout as you look up at her through your lashes, “but, can I stay here?”
   She furrows her brows, thinking. “Will you behave?” a grin appears on your lips before you nod eagerly.
   “Promise.” You say before leaving another peck on her lips.
   “Alright, you can stay.”
   She holds your hand as she brings you to the long table of her office. The people in the mansion know who you are, and what you are to Sin Nombre. They respect and protect you, lusting over your beautiful body isn't allowed or else they're dead. 
   She sits down and spreads her legs as she makes you stand up in front of her. “Twirl for me.” She commands you.
   You smile as you show off your red skimpy sundress flowing with the wind. A brow rose as she noticed something. “Lift your skirt.” She demands. You stopped and blushed. You were caught already.
   Your fingers grip on the edge of your skirt, hesitant to lift it. There weren't any other people around in the room, which was good. You slowly lift it, exposing your creamy skin. 
   “Faster.” Valeria demands impatiently. You lift it up to your waist, revealing your pussy. “I knew it, you putita.”
   You blush and look away, folding your lips together in embarrassment. “I- I did it for you.” You mutter. 
   “I know. Come here.” She says gently, encouraging you to approach her. You did as you were told.
   Her hands press down your waist while the other creeps up your legs, traveling the sweet spot between your legs. “A- ah…” you moan in surprise when she forcefully spread your legs and straight up inserted a finger in your cunt.
   “So fucking wet already.” She comments while she slides her finger up and down your wet folds. You bite your lip as your brows meet. She stood up and tug aside the cloth on your tits to lick on it. She sucks on your nipples while playing with your pussy.
   She fastens the pace on your cunt and when you start trembling she stops. “I’ll see you later, mami .”
   She smiles before leaving a kiss on your lips and sucking her finger drenched in your juice. You watch her dumbfounded.
   You spent the day watching your woman answer calls, yell at men around the house, and work like a dog. She's never been hotter when she speaks and curses in Spanish.
   “¡Qué puta madre, pendejo! ”
   You watch from afar how she gets mad at the stupidity of men around the place.
   Yet when she sees you, her furrowed brows and piercing eyes soften. You are the prettiest thing. The one who calms her down.
   “ Mi princesa,” she whispers in your ear, purposely tickling you to hear your adorable giggles. 
   It's her habit to push you into a tight room and eat you out. “O- oh..” you moan as your lifted leg exposes the cunt she's devouring. “A- ah.. I'm- I’m cum–” 
   Just when you're about to reach your high, she stops and kisses you on the lips, leaving you high and wet. Such a fucking tease.
    She laughs at your grumpy face. Frustrated from all the teasing. “Come on, cara bonita, smile for me.” You roll your eyes at her which makes her laugh louder.
   But when she touches you and you reject her, that's when you get too cocky. All of a sudden, you find yourself bending over her lap while she spanks each cheek exposed from your lack of undergarments. 
   “Estás probando tu suerte, mi putita.”
   Her degrading nicknames for you only wets your pussy more. You wince at every smack hitting your skin. Your ass eventually came red and thoroughly spank. You apologize for testing your luck. 
   “I- I'm sorry, mami. ” You mewl in softly and she lets you go. She massages your soft skin until she can't help but dip her fingers in your wet cunt. Then eventually leaving you longing for more.
   Night time drops and the endless calls kept coming, it was boring you. You can't wait to feel her touch on your greedy pussy anymore. You whine and sigh on the side while she talks business on the phone.
   You decide not to wait anymore. You walk closer to her and put her lap under your bare cunt. “Hi..” you whisper gently with a sweet smile as you hang your arms on her shoulders.
   “ Si- si– Mami, what is this? – porque? si, ahuevo– What are you doing? That's what I said, exactly the plan– ”
   “Ignore me.” You say as you kiss her jaw, her neck, exposed arms covered in hot tattoos. You even lick it, and suck her skin, leaving a mark of territory. A low rumble on her chest causes to slip out because of your stunts. You smirk and start to thrust your hips. You fix your sitting, trapping only her right thigh then continued to rub your bare pussy on her cargo pants. You start to undress yourself as the friction on your clit feels so good and dry at the same time. 
    You look her in the eye while she speaks to the phone, you suck three of your fingers wet before putting it on your clit to drench it with saliva. Then you continue to hump on her thigh, your clit and pussy hole pleasured yet aching for more as you arch your back. Your bare chest presents your tits closer to the woman busy with a call. 
    You moan at your own cause. You grind faster as she catches a grip on your hip, but you don't stop. You play with your nipples, pinching the hardened buttons and squeezing your mound as you throw your head back from the self-inflicted pleasure.
   The knot on your abdomen was threatening to explode. You keep your pace on her thigh, you squirm from the friction against the cotton and your sensitive clit. Valeria watches you as you play with yourself. She was impressed when you made yourself cum with just her thighs. 
   Your pace slowed down, gently rubbing your core on her thighs. Your mouth hangs open as you ease the climax down. Your eyes are forced to widen when you feel her grip pull you to face the other way, to lie your back on her chest, she creeps her in your legs. The pad of her fingers encircles your glossy clit from your orgasm. 
   You writhe under her touch as she awakens the flame of pleasure on your cunt. “ Yes, it will be delivered in time .” She tells the other person on the phone. If her Spanish is fucking sexy, her English accent is even hotter. You moan in her ear as you throw your head back and fall on her torso.
   “Si, mami.” you whimper as she inserts her finger, sliding them in and out of your sopping cunt. Your hips move in circles, you can't help it. You were meeting the rhythm of her digits.
   She uses her free knee to spread your legs wider and cup your pussy, massage its sensitive nub, scoop delicious juices as she inserts fingers rapidly in a pace that feels good for you.
   “Si, it'll be coming shortly.�� She cleverly replied to the phone before dropping the call and focused on her beautiful needy slut.
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adrienneleclerc · 5 months ago
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girl! I love everything you write! I have a tiny request if possible, what would you thing about wrote a scenario/reaction of Charles at a concert by his Latina girlfriend with some of the guys from the grill? Something like the first time seen her on the stage 🙈 ily
Ooh I love that!!! Like always, I’ll be using Becky G as a face claim for the header, I love you too! I am so glad you like what I write, sometimes I’m not too sure about some of the fics I post but I really am glad you like them. And his Latina girlfriend doesn’t know Charles will be there either!
Superstar
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader
Summary: Charles is dating the Latin superstar, Y/N L/N, and he finally sees her on stage.
Warning: spelling and grammatical errors
A/N: hope y’all like It, I believe the header look PERFECT for this, I know I always use Becky G but I fucking love her, what you gonna do?
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Charles and Y/N were by far the most loved couple on the grid, their outfits were always coordinated for media day, whenever Y/N has a new song released, Charles will post about it, Y/N music videos will always have Charles somewhere in the background, something of his in the background, or as her love interest in the video, they were so supportive of each other. However, Charles has never seen her perform live, he has never been to one of her concerts at all.
Y/N was currently in the Rose Bowl Stadium, backstage, doing her makeup and doing a wardrobe check. The white cargo pants and crop top looks good, her hair was styled perfectly, and she got her phone so she could call Charles before performing. However, what she didn’t know, was that Charles was somewhere in the Rose Bowl with Carlos, Lando, Lewis, Pierre, and Oscar.
“Can’t believe we drove down here.” Pierre said, moving through the crowd. “Can’t you just wait until your girlfriend does a European tour? And why do you have roses?” Pierre asks
“I haven’t seen her in 2 weeks, this is her first full headline tour, my girl deserves her flowers. Plus, who knows if I’ll be free when she’ll have a European tour.” Charles said.
“I am excited, look many fans Y/N has.” Lando said,
“Yeah, she’s very popu…” Charles started saying but the crowd started screaming, he saw a spotlight, and that’s when he saw Y/N in her performance outfit, she was glowing, waving at the audience.
“Como están, Pasadena?!?” Y/N asked the crowd, they cheered “If you do not know who I am, my name is Y/N, and this is my first stop in my US tour! Now let’s get this concerted! I mean it’s reason why you’re all here.” The track ‘Arranca’ started playing, Y/N was dancing, singing, interacting with the crowd, Charles watched in awe and Carlos sang along,
“You know the song?” Lewis asked the Spanish man.
“It’s on my playlist, cabrón.” Carlos answered, making Lewis laugh. Charles pulled out his phone to record her. The song finished after a minute.
“Now as you guys may know, I have a boyfriend.” Y/N said and the crowd started cheering. “He’s a few years older than me, as all Latino parents, they’re a little concerned, but I told them que a mí me gustan mayores.”
The crowd went crazy as the song ‘Mayores’ began to play, the song went along as normal until the second verse. “Si él supiera que en mi mente yo solo quiero a uno, dice que en la mañana me quiere de desayuno, como él ninguno, dura más que uno de 21, él se pone para todas mis locuras, sabe que a mi me tiene segura, no quiero un Romeo, no quiero aventura, Daddy Yankee sabe que estoy dura, me resuelve siempre 24/7, pa él me quedan de más los juguetes, me da todo nuevo del paquete, difícil que con él tú te compares, mejor vete.” And everyone SCREAMED, Carlos laughed and put his hands on Charles’s shoulders, shaking him. If he knew that I only want one person on my mind, he says he wants to have me for breakfast, there’s no guy like him, he lasts longer than a 21 year old. He’s down for whatever, my ride or die, he knows I’m his, I don’t want a Romeo, I don’t want adventure, Daddy Yankee knows I’m bad, he’s ready 24/7 (like if Y/N wants sex, Charles is DOWN), there’s no need for toys when I’m with him, everything he gives me is brand new, it’s difficult if you think you can compare to him, you better leave.
“Wow, cabrón, didn’t know you had it in you.” Carlos said.
“I really gotta learn Spanish.” Charles said.
“Yes you do.” Carlos replies.
After like 28 songs, the concert finished.
“Thank you so much, Pasadena, you have been a great audience, I’ll see you next time!” Y/N said. Once the lights turned on, Charles said goodbye by to the boys.
“Hey, I’m gonna see Y/N backstage, I’ll meet you guys later.” Charles said.
“Yeah sure, we’ll be in the cars.” Pierre said.
While Charles went to one of the security guards, the boys got out of the stadium singing one of Y/N’s songs.
“Ahora tengo novio nuevo que me hace ram Pam Pam Pam Pam.” They sang.
“Don’t know Spanish, but her songs are so good!” Oscar exclaimed.
“Yes they are, we should go to more concerts actually.” Lewis said.
Charles got escorted to Y/N’s dressing room and knocked on the door.
“Come in!” Y/N said and she turned around, seeing Charles holding flowers. “Muñeco!” Y/N said, getting up to hug him, Charles hugged her back hard, rubbing her back. She pulled away. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in Las Vegas? Isn’t your flight back to Monaco tomorrow?”
“I came to see you, I never saw you perform before, you were amazing. The crowd loved you, Carlos was singing along, I think Lewis, Pierre, Lando, and Oscar became fans…” Charles said.
“Wait, the 6 of you drove down here to see me?” Y/N asked.
“Of course. Well, Pierre and Lewis drove the cars.” Charles admitted.
“Well I’m glad they liked the show.” Y/N said.
Liked by yourusername and 2,726,566 others
charles_leclerc went to see my girlfriend perform last night and she was amazing! Couldn’t be more proud of her for her first headline tour at 21 years old. She is talented and I finally got to see her perform for the first time ever. I love you, mon coeur 😘❤️
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yourusername loved the surprise, muñeco! I love you too, I expect to see you at more concerts from now on
carlossainz55 i have your songs stuck in head now
yourusername as you should!
landonorris best concert I’ve been to in a long time, glad I went with you
oscarpiastri thank you for inviting me, dad
lewishamilton big fan of her music, Roscoe is loving it too
pierregasly i already added some of her songs to my playlist
y/n_Queen love that the grid became fans of her, so cute 🥰
user39 Charles is giving “male wife” and I love it!
user18 will we be getting more Y/N songs on the F1 playlist 😱
The End
Hope y’all liked it! It’s a little short but I think it turned out well
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luffysscraps · 1 year ago
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anyways, i'd really love a request where fem!reader + luffy are dancing @ a party after another win for the straw hats, which reader is a part of. things get heated because luffy's latin genes come out during the dance + he starts singing along in spanish. ends in smUT.
reader can be black idc i'm black + caribbean/latin
thank you in advance, darlin 😁💕
Ella Baila Sola
Cw: Fem reader. Black reader.🔞 under the cut.Not proofread.
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With the Straw hat’s latest win saving a village, obviously a party came in its wake as well.
Food, booze, music, fireworks all of it flooded the plaza of the small village. Everyone was drinking, partying and having the time of their lives. You giggle and laugh swaying your hips to the beat of the music, the flow of your pretty dress following your figure as you danced. But in this large open plaza of people, you danced solo. Tons of men had approached you, asking for your hand but you denied all of them. What you could say? They just couldn’t keep up with you.
Only one man in this world could.
And that man was currently stuffing his face full of food. Your captain; or as you knew him, Luffy. You giggled lightly watching him raid the table stuffing all the food he could in his elastic cheeks. The boy had such a one track mind that he didn’t realize he was missing the main course right in front of him. The shaking of your hips and the flow of your dress riled up many of the men in the permitter. Sanji, Brook, Usopp, even Zoro wanted a piece of you. But you just swiftly danced away from them.
She dances alone~
Then mariachi kicked in. All the spotlight on you, your glossy brown lips parted and you finally called his name. “Luffy~!”
The male in question swallowed the ham bone in between his lips. His wide, black eyes gazed around before finally landing on his darling’s figure. His querida.
How foolish of him, have you been dancing like that alone all night? Food can wait. You can’t. He let his greed take hold of him, but now seeing your figure move; Lust was about to take hold of him instead. It was then he heard the familiar tune, he knew this song and he knew it well. He rose to his feet his sandals clicking along the way as he made his way to you. A large smile on his face as he felt something else take hold of him. As he’s in your range he taps on Zoro’s shoulder singing loudly for everyone around him to hear including you.
“Compa, ¿qué le parece esa morra~?”
He doesn’t give Zoro time to answer or decipher what he had said. Instead he moved closer to your shifting body, a smirk on his face as he points straight at you.
“La que anda bailando sola me gusta pa' mí~”
You smirk right back at him, your swaying of your hips didn’t stop as you laid your hands in his. “Finally noticed me huh?” You flutter your lashes at the rubber man who matches your rhythm in seconds. He throws his head back and a giggling tone sinks into his singing.
“¡Bella! Ella sabe que está ¡Buena!”
“Damn right I am, and you ignored me for a slab of meat~” You teased him softly, resting a hand on his open chest and running your fingers over his scar. You had been picking up on a bit of Portuguese and Spanish ever since you and Luffy started dating. You didn’t know a lot but you knew enough to tell he was calling you sexy. He cuts his eyes at you, that hungry smile laced his lips as he feels your hands running up and down his exposed chest. His hands find their way to your waist and holds you in small dip.
“Que todos andan mirándola cómo baila. Me acerco y le tiro todo un verbo~”
“I was waiting for you~” Your eyelids get low and from that tone of voice Luffy could tell you were getting just as hot and bothered as he was. “Desculpe mantê-la esperando, minha rainha.” He whispers against the nape of your neck as he pulls you in closer to him. There was something so sexy about hearing his sexy, husky voice in a different language that you couldn’t explain. The raven haired male then pulls away, twirling you in place with his hand sending you into a giggle fit.
“Le dije, Voy a conquistar tu familia, que en unos días vas a ser mía.”
He smiles seeing your hair fall as he brings you back close to his chest. His thumb tenderly runs along your cheeks, feeling your cheeks rise as you smile. “You’re crazy.” You simply stated the truth and Luffy laughed in reply, giving you a grin of his own.
“Me dijo que estoy muy loco, pero le gusta. Que ningún vato como yo actúa~.”
He can’t hold it in any longer. He brings you in close to his body and gives you a longing kiss. He craved you, all of you. His hands dig into your backside as he holds you close to him. He doesn’t care about the others watching… he doesn’t care about anything else in this moment. Not food, not the others, no one else mattered but you.
As the music dies down, the two of you only pull away because of the need to breathe. You pant lightly, a string of saliva connects you to Luffy. The male’s eyes are half lidded and lust clouded his vision as he stares down at your figure. He felt himself throb in his boxers and groaned lightly biting his bottom lip.
“Wanna get out’a here?”
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“Ah~ L-Luffy!” You cried out as he pushes his length inside of you. He had placed his straw hat on your head and pushed you into an alleyway a few feet away from the party. Your panties tossed to the side and Luffy had freed his hard on from his boxers and pulled his shorts down. “Shhh… don’t wanna ruin the party.” He whispered to you slowly, a smirk on his lips as he slowly began to fuck you against the wall.
“Sorry for ignoring you~ fuck~ won’t happen again.” He groans out holding your legs up for you and pounding into you from below. “Ya look so pretty in this dress~ damn.” His cock reaches places you never thought possible as he thrusts himself inside of you. His dick pushing apart your gummy walls and reshaping your insides. All you could do is moan and wrap your arms around his neck gripping at his shirt’s backside.
The alleyway was filled with the sound of skin slapping, moans and groans. Lewd, dirty sounds that can only come from two people who are body to body. Luffy’s sounds are a mixture of laughter and groans as he couldn’t control his pace. His mind filled with nothing but pleasure and your body. “So… so fuckin’ tight… hmm~ I love you~”
Luffy groans into your neck giving you a tender kiss that turned into a love bite. Feeling his teeth break your skin you cried out in pain and pleasure. He muttered a quick “sorry.” Before lapping up the blood droplets from his teeth marks. His hat rocks on top of your head from each thrust inside. He feels that familiar hot feeling bubbling inside of him. His dick twitches wildly inside of you causing you to groan out.
“Gonna cum… gonna cum right inside of ya’.” He speaks half sentences and babbles on as his hips move even faster. He ruts against you and he chases his orgasm. Your back slides up and down the alleyway wall with the speed he’s fucking you at. Your moans get even louder and your hands grip the back of his shirt tightly. You feel a coil ball up inside of you, begging for release; his arousal had moved you to orgasm as well.
“C-Cumming! O-oh god~ Lu-Luffy-“ He eats up your moans by shoving his tongue into your mouth before slamming his hips against your body. His balls were kissing your slit with how deep he was. You practically melt feeling his seed shoot deep inside of you. Your gummy walls even sticker with his cum, your insides painted white. Your body pulses in response and that tight coil inside of you finally comes undone. Your walls gripping him tightly as you release your juices on top of his dick. The way your pussy chokes his dick makes his eyes roll back in his head. His dick responds in shooting all of the cum it had stored inside.
His cum and your juices overflow and start to leak out of your pussy. He groans out finally ending the kiss, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as another string of saliva connects you two together. His eyes are still half lidded as they look down at the mess he made of your pussy. He watches as his cum drips from your pussy all the way down your leg.
He smiles lightly, his eyes coming back up to meet yours as he leans in, your noses touching from the closeness. He giggles and you do as well as soon as you recover. “Sorry for ignoring ya~”
“Oh I think you made up for it, didn’t you~?”
She dances solo~, because she’s waiting for him.
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Had so much fun writing this one! I think the first part is the CUTEST fluff I’ve ever made-
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hey-hey-j · 6 months ago
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I'm just going to copy-paste my previous post: designing next gens less because I actually think these two characters should have kids but because I live and breathe for Making Up Little Guys
(bonus little design breakdowns and notes below the cut)
Rosaline (Floyd/Hickory)
- yes, she's named after grandma Rosiepuff
- I actually don't have that much to say about her pfgfggg her design came together really easily, the only bit I struggled with was her hair but that was mostly trying to get the right balance between Floyd's pink and Hickory's orange
- her name comes from her color palette: I pictured a Flickory kid with pink hair and green skin and immediately decided their name should be a variation of "Rose." It's thematic!
Fresca (Viva/John Dory)
- okay, I have a LOT to say about this one, starting with her name: I wanted something similar to Viva ("alive") but with the same goofiness as John Dory (man's a fish) and I eventually settled on Fresca ("fresh") (I'm a native Spanish speaker I know what I'm doing sshhhhh)
- I originally pictured her with blue skin for this reason—I thought making her blue would evoke the "fresh" imagery I was going for. But then I decided to make her purple instead and that imagery got kinda lost oops.
- I'm actually not completely satisfied with her color palette to be honest. I think I messed up making her so purple—giving her blonde hair made her look like Milton (lmao) and giving her a pink/blue gradient made her look too much like a Broppy kid for my liking. The current pink/yellow with hints of orange looks nice enough but I think if I did a design overhaul I would try making her a little more blue. As it stands there's not much in her palette that really indicates JD to me.
- I very briefly attempted to give her JD's green hair but that looked atrocious so I trashed that idea pretty quickly lmao
and if you've made it this far, congratulations! You get my links:
(★ my Ko-fi) | (★ commission info)
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youaresimplylovely · 7 months ago
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“Fast and Fabulous: A Driven Love” 
---- A love story between a Formula 1 Driver and a Supermodel
Chapter 1 (Next Chapter) Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6
Pairing: Carlos Sainz!Formula 1 Driver x Famous Supermodel!Reader
Words: 562 words
Warnings: First time writing so if there are any errors, feel free to say so!! :>> nevertheless no warnings on this first chapter
Somehow proofread :')
Summary: Getting to know the Dela Cruz family
Lights flickered across the room, and a young man's voice was heard across the room. A loud groan escaped his voice. Sighing softly, the man approached the light switch, turning it off. "I thought Dad was supposed to fix this," he mumbled, going to another room with better lighting. He grabbed the scattered papers on the kitchen counter, fixing the order of the documents. He sat on the dining table chairs with the papers in his hand. 
"Ahem." he cleared his throat, sighing but not too loud. He stared at the first page of the papers in his hand as he started reading. “Y/N Claire Rose Althea Sophia Amélie Genevieve Katherine Dela Cruz.” He smiled softly. "Not including her mother's last name." He snickered, scratching his back with his hand. He continues reading the paper in his hand. "Where were we? Ah yes, Y/N Claire Rose Althea Sophia Amélie Genevieve Katherine Dela Cruz.” He reiterated the woman's name. "Such a long dang name." He rolled his eyes, baffled that the woman's name was long. 
"Y/N is a famous supermodel, considered one of the most beautiful women. She is part American, part French, part Spanish, and part Filipino." The young man ran his hands through his hair, scrunching his nose. "Who knew that combining Asian genes with American and European ones would make 'the most beautiful woman.'" He gestured with air quotes and sarcasm in his tone. "The woman came from the renowned 'Dela Cruz' family. A prominent family, the father being Jean Louis Dela Cruz, A man who is half American and half French; you could say he's part Spanish, too. Hence, the last name 'Dela Cruz.'"
The young man pouted, thinking how a half-American and half-French man could have his last name be 'Dela Cruz' on Earth. He shakes his head, shaking the thought off as he continues reading. "The man married a famous beauty queen from the Philippines, Maria Lucia Garcia, a woman who is half Filipino and half Spanish." The young man groaned, scrunching his whole face now. He thought to himself, how can this family be so confusing. "Esto no puede ser real (This can not be real)," he muttered in his weird but manageable Spanish accent.
"The two fell in love and had 5 beautiful children. The first child was Mark Cedric Dela Cruz, the second was James Diego Dela Cruz, Daniel Ezekiel Dela Cruz, and the fourth was Y/N Claire Rose Althea Sophia Amélie Genevieve Katherine Dela Cruz." He groans, rolling his eyes and causing him to laugh. "The woman's name is so long 'cause she's the only girl and definitely a daddy's girl." He chuckles, sighing as he lays back against the chair. “And the last child, Paolo Gabriel Dela Cruz a.k.a ‘Pao’.” 
Before the young man could continue, footsteps approaching the kitchen were heard. A woman snickered, sitting next to the young man. She gave him a weird look, scrunching her face. “¿Qué diablos estás haciendo pao? (What the hell are you doing, Pao?)" you laughed, nudging his shoulder as you sat beside him. Your beautiful Spanish accent causes your brother to smile softly. "Um, excuse me, Y/N. This is a school project; I had to do a family background." Pao rolled his eyes at you, giving you a playful, disgusted look. "I didn't know college students' homework was like that nowadays." You giggled.
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astoryisaloveaffair · 7 months ago
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Fix You - Chapter 16 - Genesis
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Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader
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Read on A03
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Chapter Summary: 🤷‍♀️
Word Count: 4K
Rating: Explicit
Chapter Warnings: cussing, graphic violence, mentions of sex. I'm not giving more warnings than that, sorry.
A/N: Hey all. First I want to say I'm sorry. I literally had no time or motivation to write this. I'm gonna be honest, this is a really tough chapter, and it was hard to get in this headspace. Suffering a recent heartbreak, things in this chapter are things I have thought also, and so it was really hard for me to voluntarily want to address that. I also started working in veterinary medicine, i do not have the spare time that I used to. We also recently adopted a puppy who we named Bucky! And if you read my earlier posts, you know that I was SA'd last January. All that to say, sorry I couldn't do this faster.
Also want to wish a happy birthday to @musings-of-a-rose, my beloved, my bestie, and my constant support. This is for you. Sorry it's not a happier chapter....
* If a character is speaking fully in Spanish, I will put “[ ]” around the dialogue. I speak pretty decent Spanish but not good enough for this
Suggested Songs: "Exile" Taylor Swift feat. Bon Iver, "I Love You" Billie Eilish, "Vampire" and "Logical" by Olivia Rodrigo, "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron and Phoebe Bridgers, "Genesis" by Grimes
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You didn’t even flinch at the landing, which was rough, so that’s saying a lot. When the janky cargo door (which looked like at any time during the flight would be ripped right off) opens, you barely even lift your eyes from the floor. You felt heavy and hollow, somewhere suspended in between shock and just not giving a fuck anymore. The only thing you could still fell was the pinching in your heart. It was still broken.
At some point during the journey, the co-pilot had taken pity on you and untied your arms from behind your back and bound them in front of you instead. You hadn’t struggled. There was no point. Where would you go? Jump in the ocean? You weren’t that great of a swimmer and you loved sharks and everything but the open ocean is not where you are supposed to be.
You have no sense of space and time, so you have no actual clue where you are other than not the mainland. You’re dehydrated as fuck, groggy, your vision’s blurry and you’d figured out the sticky moisture on your face was your own blood. 
Because when you had suddenly blacked out it was because they’d hit you, and had absolutely no hesitation doing so. They did not care about you, they did not see you as a human being, they didn’t even bother strapping you into a seat so you had been sliding around the cargo bay the entire flight, bumping into everything. You were in deep danger, any hope that you would have some ransom protection had pretty much disintegrated. You had hoped that the boys wouldn’t come for you at first. Then you had hoped that they would, because if you’re ransom, even if at the very least you’d be alive until then, right? But “alive” doesn’t mean unharmed.
A shadow looms over you and it finally makes you look up, squinting to adjust your eyes to something so close, as well as the brightness of the sun. It feels like it takes you 10 whole minutes to process that you were being spoken to in English.
“Eh!” The man leaning over you snips, and when you simply blink in confusion and don’t answer, he slaps you lightly on both cheeks. You’re stunned enough to finally look at him, his oval face, beady eyes and unique sideburns seeming so familiar to you but quite frankly you wouldn’t trust yourself with recognizing even your dad at the moment, so you push that thought aside.
He kneels down in front of you. “You listen to me. We don’t want you. We want the money. This means if you don’t fucking piss me off, I might be nice and not kill you, you understand? Be a smart little girl, eh?.”
You nod, you probably should be feeling some sort of panic setting in but you don’t. Whatever. Who even cares anymore.
He takes your silence as submission. “Bueno.” He whispers, leaning down and grabbing you by the arm, lifting you until you are back on your feet. He tilts his head and steps to the side, revealing 5 additional men with AKs pointed straight at you. From behind, you feel the sharp tip of another poking your back, urging you forward and down the precarious ramp. The pilots.
You didn’t trust that they wouldn’t hurt you, but you knew you had no other choice. Trying to fight was asking for it, and once you step out of the hold and realize you were in the fucking jungle, there would be no sensical place to go even if you did get away.
You step out of the plane onto a rickety steel ramp that bounces as the footpad of your sandals touches it and shuffle slowly down it. You feel suffocated sandwiched between four men, your hands chafe where they are tied and you have been in the same positions for so long your whole body is sore. Every touch and movement hurt.
You stumble as the ramp ends but one of the men grabs your arm and yanks you so you don’t fall. It wasn’t kindness. It was a way to hurt you that he could get away with. The tiny dirt landing strip is almost canopied completely by the jungle trees, leaving large patches here and there where the plane flew through, not noticeable from far above. It looks like you’re walking to nothing, just a dirt road that ends right into the thick middle of the jungle, but you don’t stop at the edge. You push through.
It’s hot as shit and you felt sweat buildup in every crevice of your body, your thighs are rubbing raw from your asinine decision to wear short shorts to the fair, and you could feel a heat rash growing under your tits that you couldn’t even scratch because your hands are bound.
You walk for forever. You walk until the friction rash on your inner thighs turn to lesions. You haven't drank water in almost 48 hours and it feels like 150 degrees out, with full humidity. You’ve had to stop twice already to vomit from heat exhaustion and you still occasionally gag even though there’s nothing in your stomach to come up anymore. All the years that you did not appeal to insects are making up for it now, they’re all over you and you can’t walk 3 steps without one getting in your eye.  The jungle gets tighter and you can’t breathe because it’s pushing in on you almost as tight as the hands on your shoulders pushing you forward..
You start crying. At least, that is what you tell yourself as you whimper and sob as quietly as you can. You know you’re strong, but this is just beyond reason that any normal person could take. And when you think about how this is probably what life was all the time in Delta for the boys, you cry even harder because you feel guilty, that you have no right to complain.
Finally, after what feels like forever, the tightness of the jungle seems to loosen. More open. You notice some of the trees look more oddly arranged than others. As you get closer you realize they aren’t trees at all, but tents and dilapidated buildings built into the shadows of the trees.  The huge roots and overhanging canopy of the jungle transformed a bustling camp into what looks like a little village. At the entrance, a line of guards in jungle fatigues that were impossible to detect until you got right up to them. You hear someone speak above you, alerting you to a man up in the trees on a platform tucked between the branches. There was another in the tree on the opposite side. He calls to the man with the sideburns, saying something in Spanish you can’t interpret fast enough, but it’s jovial and they laugh, and it makes you feel like you’re going to go mentally insane. 
It’s like it’s not even serious to them. And it’s so serious to you.
You are pushed through the camp quickly, but not quick enough that you don’t see the insane amount of cocaine packages piled up in the makeshift buildings, sheds, and tents toward the back. Men were milling about checking them, moving them and glaring at you as you walked past.
You continue past the main camp, crossing over a bustling creek whose bridge was literally just planks of wood, but you noticed there were tire marks across them so you felt at least safe it could handle a car’s weight. Across the creek, an old stonework manor stood. You can tell at one time it must have been glorious, but the white stone-worked walls were dirty and crumbling in many places, the fountains out front had dried crusty palm fronds and dirt in them and looked like they hadn’t sprayed water since the 1980s.
It was still oddly beautiful. You thought about how this house came to be, what it might have looked like when it had been first built. A beautiful Caribbean sea mansion. A jungle that hadn’t closed in on it yet. Fountains spraying and colorful birds resting on the rooftops. But then you  realize that this place has probably always been used for what it is now. Someone like Carl Lehder probably lived here and ran an entire cartel within this very jungle. Maybe it was the same one, just run by someone else.
There was a shabbily made shack to the left of the manor with padlocks, piles of debris piled next to the door. You assume that’s where you would be taken, but you were instead led up the stairs to the manor proper. And as your eyes focus in on the ground while you were being guided to the mansion instead, you realize the heap of matter by the shack that you thought was some dying plantation was actually a crumpled human body. A boy looking not much older than 17, shot execution style in the head and left to rot.
Then smell hits you, your knees buckle and you vomit on the stonework stairs, a scream of shock and realization pierces the jungle, making the nearby tropical birds explode from the treetops. When the sicarios pick you up and carry you through the mansion door, you’re still screaming.
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Eventually whoever was carrying you became fed up, and simply dropped you at the bottom of the stairs and dragged you up backwards by the armpits instead. You didn’t even feel the step edges hitting the small of your back all the way up, but you would later. 
You were tossed stricken and shivering on a disgusting, top-sheeted mattress on the floor in the corner of a room, your feet still bound together and your rope-bound hands looped through a radiator that was long enough only for you to lie down or shuffle over to a bucket for your business. Everything stank and you still had vomit on your chin so you curled up in a ball and slammed your eyes closed, hoping that in time the voices and smells and fear would give way to just simple numbness. You didn’t hear a female voice speaking to you for several seconds.
Your eyes snap open, skin pulled taut from dried unwiped tears,and you jolt upright to look in the direction of the voice. A woman who wasn’t even tied up was propped up against the adjoining wall, and as you take in her condition you could understand why they hadn’t even bothered. She wouldn’t have been able to run.
Her legs look..wrong, splaying at angles that shouldn’t be possible. They look like they could be broken, but you can’t tell for sure because she was wearing jeans that cover up most of her skin. The jeans were ripped in some places and stained with dark blood spots, the color turning brighter wherever her skin shows through the tears in the fabric. She’s missing several fingers on her left hand that had been burnt at the ends to cauterize, and her face was black and blue, swollen and smeared with more blood that seemed to be coming from her scalp somewhere. Her lips are pale and cracking and her eyes are glazed over and barely open. When she speaks, she already sounds like she is dead. 
She swallows and winces slightly in pain, then licks her cracked pale lips.“Is…my…her–my brother. Did you see him? Out there?” 
Your face scrunches in confusion, which actually hurts a little and you’re not sure from what specifically. Perhaps you look just as bad as the other girl. “Your–I—I don’t understand.”
She’s too exhausted to even be annoyed with you. “My brother. They took him from me days ago. They do not talk to me anymore. They don’t—need me anymore.” A single tear falls down her swollen cheek and you suddenly feel so much connection with this woman and how  incredibly fucking strong she is. Her eyes roll over to you, meeting yours for the first time. There are burst blood vessels in them. 
“I think that they killed him.”
Your lips part and you utter a shuddering breath as you connect the dots. There’s no point in sugar-coating it. You nod slowly. “I think so. But it’s not…recent.” You look away as her eyes slowly close, the additional tears she was holding back finally spilling over and cascading down her cheeks. 
“Bueno.” She says. “Then at least he is not suffering like me.” 
You both fall quiet and you look over her again. Her pants aren’t completely done up and her t shirt is ripped at the neckline, exposing a gashed shoulder. Almost like…
You start crying again, and you feel even worse about it this time because you have in front of you a woman who has been through much worse and is somehow NOT crying. You curl tighter into yourself to try and hide. 
But she simply asks. “Who are you?”
You swallow, raising your head up off your arms, quickly wiping the access tears off on your sleeve. It’s incredible how adrenaline and fear can sometimes make you the most clear-headed you’ve ever been. Your thoughts are swirling but you knew one thing for damn sure, if they didn’t know your name yet, you weren’t going to say it now. 
If I look forward I am lost. Focus on right now. Nothing else. It’s my best chance.
You know enough about trauma that compartmentalizing this moment is your best chance. You can’t think what will happen if you don’t escape, if you aren’t found, if they never come for you. You need to stay focused. You need to keep hope alive. You need to stay coherent, because if a chance pops up, you need to be able to think quickly.
“I’m no one.” You mumble. “Just happened to be dating the wrong person.”
She sniffs and looks away, but it’s muffled because her nose sounds congested. You don’t miss her tone though. “Mmmm. His new one then.”
You blink. “What?”
Her glazed over, discolored eyes snap back to yours. “Pope.” She spits. “Your man. Santia—”
“NO!” You cut her off with a shout, you know there is a guy who is in the area and you still don’t know how much these men do or do not know. “Don’t. Don’t give them names if they don’t already know it.”
“I don’t give a shit about Agent Garcia, or his friends, or anyone else, it’s their fault I am here and it’s their fault my brother is dead and..” She finally, finally starts to cry. “I told him I didn’t want to do it. They said they would let us go if we gave them what they wanted.”
“It was you.” You exhale with a shuddering breath. “They found us cause of you. You told them.” You shake your head, and for some reason you feel betrayed by this woman even though you’ve never met her.  “How could you?” 
“Because all I care about is my brother, do you understand?! I wish I’d never met him, Garcia, we would have just snuck away and no one would never seen us, but no, instead we listened to him and helped them steal from fucking Lorea, and now they found us and I knew they would, and YES, I gave them EVERYTHING because they said they’d let us go so long as they found you and–”
“Eh!” A voice trails in with a watchman you knew was hanging out somewhere in the hallway beyond. He slips through the doorway, a smaller man you were not expecting from that voice, and leans against the deteriorating door frame. He crosses his arms and his legs and it makes the handgun on his hip jut out prominently from his skinny hips. “No talking to each other.” His voice is silky and the words all slide together so it sounds like ‘no talkintoeeachother.’
You shrink back into the dirty wall behind you as your associate spits a bloody phlegm ball in the man’s direction. “FUCK you!” She snarls, a tirade of cuss words in Spanish flying from her lips. 
A loud pop almost bursts your eardrums and your heart and you exclaim in terror as your associate is shot point blank in the head, her back slumping against the wall and her head hitting with a bang, pieces of blood and brain tissue spraying over the back wall with pieces flying in your direction.  
The man remains completely motionless with his arms still raised before huffing a laugh to himself, putting the gun back on his hip, and looking at you with the such an unaffected gaze it leaves you feeling dizzy and you scream and scream and scream yourself hoarse, crumpling onto your mattress in a terrified heap, arms over your head, sobbing hysterically.
A gentle but firm palm wraps around your forearm, yanking you back up to a seated position. You look away, but the man’s other hand takes you gently by the jaw and makes you look at him. And just behind him, the woman slumped in a pool of blood and brain matter. You try to wriggle out of his grip but he tightens ever so slightly, and you can’t help but notice how different it is when Frankie would grab you like that versus this man. Frankie held you the same, sometimes harder, but you had trusted his domination and his care of you and because of that, it made it arousing. That same motion with this man has you more scared than you ever have been in your life. 
“Bebita.” He coos, thumb lightly caressing your jaw. He wipes at a small speck of blood you don’t know is even there. You can feel yourself shaking and breathing so fast you can see his half waxed back tousled locks that hang past his temples are blowing in its breeze. You can’t answer him. “Look at me.”
You do. His eyes are a dark, almost black chocolate brown, shape mismatched, a scruffy beard and goatee and thin lips. In another world you would find him devastatingly attractive and the fact that you do makes you feel absolutely violated and disgusted with yourself. 
“Do not cry.” He continues. “You have no reason to if you behave, si? You be good and you listen and I will keep you safe you understand? Well, at least for now.” He shifts closer to you, you can smell his breath. It smells like orange and cloves. “There are a lot of men here Bebita. I am sure you understand what this means, si? Answer me.”
“Yes.” A final fat tear spills from one of your eyes, and it stings as it mixes with your sweat and the raw skin around your eyes. 
He juts his head in the other woman’s direction. “This one, she fight the whole time. I like a easy job. Make my job easy, I make sure you always deal with me. Do not make me call in the other guys, they are not as nice. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He releases your chin and you scoot back quickly as he saunters over to the other woman’s bloody body, grabs it by the arm, and casually drags her as dismissively as possible out the door and out of your sight, leaving a bloody trail behind.
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At first you just sit there in a slump staring at the opposite wall,, you don’t know for how long. Probably hours. Maybe days. The man, whose name you figured out from when he spoke to someone else in the hall, is Angel. Sometimes he would sit up and watch you, as if figuring you out, your body and the way you shift and switch positions when you are uncomfortable, what it looked like when you were crying and trying to keep quiet and unnoticed. But most of the time he ignored you. Occasionally others would come into the room and either speak to him or approach you, but upon noticing Angel watching them they would hiss or spit a curse and slink off.
The room reminded you of those old houses from the 70s that had those drafty unfinished basements that were simply concrete floors, painted stucco or white brick. To the sicarios, it served as an overflow area, there was a rotting desk along the side wall with a metal folding chair and piles of scattered papers and random household tools on them. Against the opposite side wall was a pretty nice tv, considering, which was always playing soccer. Angel seemed to make that his home base, his lithe frame sprawled across a grandma-fabric sofa, head resting on one of the puffy arm rests. He binge-smoked cigarettes and his right hand was always stretched over his head resting against his forehead in the direction of to an end table with an massive overflowing porcelain ashtray on it. You didn’t used to mind the smell of cigarettes too much but now it makes you feel sick.
You’re ashamed of how little you actually think about your current situation and like the hopeless romantic idiot you are, mostly all you can think about is Frankie. The things he said–you knew he said mean things when he was mad, or things he didn’t mean, but isn’t there always some truth to things that are said in the heat of the moment? That was enough for you to silently spiral. You thought about every memory you had of him and how it could be viewed through the lens that Frankie just wanted to fuck you. Your self confidence was low enough it was believable, and your mind races through every instance of an older man being in a relationship with someone much younger and how of course it was predatory, and how could you not see it, that you didn’t have anything in common? It’s a tale as old as time. He just wanted to fuck you, he wanted to fuck you and dominate you, his dark desires seducing you into feeling so wanted you can’t believe you thought he loved you and didn’t see right through it. 
And his friends, well, they were all in on it weren’t they, because why would they want to hang out with someone like you either? Why would men such as that actually want to be friends with you when you have never experienced half of what they have.
Fuck him. Fuck him and his lying ass, he was a fucking loser addict and you’re pissed at yourself for even considering him. Like how lonely were you?? To choose an old man with a kid who served in an institution that represented everything you hated about this country? To be so easily blinded by pretty words and love bombs to immediately take your clothes off. Because how, if he actually loved you or even like you, could he possibly have lied about something so big?! Or bought you something nice with all that fucking drug money he stole. Not that you’d want it or expected it, but why wouldn’t you want to treat someone you love as much as he claimed to? 
How could he sit there and make up what happened to Tom like that, when you were being so coddling and trying to be a caring ear. And Benny…Pope...if they were your friends they should have told you, that’s what real friends do…
But they weren’t your friends. They were never your friends. 
And if you went the other way, and considered that it was all true, that he did love you, that they were all your friends, and that he lied to you and threw stones to hurt you and push you away, how was that any better? You couldn't even think about a future not being with him, but obviously he could. He could watch you cry and question him and not even look at you, completely ignore you, then not even think about you again. No texts, no calls. No “I’m sorry, please come back.” Silence. 
How could it be so easy for him? How can he just go about his life like you never happened? Why did you still care?
Why did you still want him? 
Why did you still love him so so much. Part of you wishes they’d get on with it and just kill you. At least then you wouldn’t have to feel this excruciating pain. You wouldn’t have to see him show up to rescue you because he has to, to have to see his fucking face and every line, crinkle, scar, the bald patch in his beard and the tousled little curls that pop out of his hat…only for him to save you and then leave again, or die and then you have the guilt of killing a man who no longer loved you.
Yea. You think you’d rather die.
You feel like you’re going to throw up again. You’d let him force his cock in your mouth as far as it could go, let him tie you up and fuck you hard enough to leave bruises you had thought of as a badge of honor. You’d let him cum on your face. You’d let him fucking cum inside you! He’d gaslit you so you actually wanted him to tie you up with zip ties—-
Your heart almost stops. You can picture how his face looked exactly when he said it.
Sometimes rope can give over time.
That’s why we always used zip ties.
You look down at your bound hands.
They’re bound with rope.
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pompadourpink · 3 months ago
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It's a new beginning!
Hello children,
September is coming, school too for some of you - often a great moment for a bit of decluttering and a few new good resolutions. Here am I, offering myself as one of them!
As you hopefully know, I started this blog in 2016 and have been a private tutor since the beginning of the pandemic. I have room at the moment for several new students, so here is what I offer:
Classes, obviously - the typical schedule is one hour a week, sometimes one and a half, or one every two weeks, or two every two weeks; typically same day same time (I'm always happy to make adjustments if you work shifts)
Homework, if you can make the time for it. I typically prefer it to be finished by the middle of the week so that I have time to take a look and correct it, giving you the opportunity to give it a second try before class!
Depending on your preferences, either just a few activities so we can take our time, especially if you are a beginner, or something a bit more dynamic consisting in five to ten minute long activities to keep you motivated and alert (which seems to be a crowd's favourite as most of my students are neurodivergent).
Talking activities are typically answering series of questions I share from my Notion, talking about your week, summarising a book or a movie, making me guess a word or a person, or a concept I call "alien talk" where you explain something (like a vaccine or insurance) from scratch to a little red man.
Writing activities are often fictional (I have students create a little character on a website and we write an update about their life regularly), they can also be an overview of your month, a letter to quit your horrible job or convince Snoop Dog to marry you because you are a gold digger.
Transcribing activities, especially at the beginning, are either me reading very easy sentences so you can write them down and memorise the way things sound, then it's episodes from young children's shows, extracts from very famous movies, then we hit harder and turn to gameshows or podcasts.
Translating activities, from one language to another, are a written translation of the first page of a novel (I did the Secret History recently), or a newspapers article (we are working on this one at the moment); or an oral translation of songs lyrics, fairytales, children's books, muted captioned playthroughs of your favourite games on Youtube, etc.
Finally, a few games: silly quizzes, crosswords, Wordle and even Quordle, hangman, and sometimes we even sing if you're comfortable with that.
Here is the link of my website where you will find reviews and a list of what to send me to get the process started. A few things to know:
I try to make the activities fit your preferences: get me a list of what you like and that is what we will work on. If your first language is not English, I am happy to include it, I'm always eager to learn (I've been reviewing my Spanish this way!)
I work without cameras. I don't need to see your face, I just need a voice and a good Internet connection. All students are welcome, no matter if you have an accent, a stutter, or disabilities. Do not be afraid of being judged, there is none of that here.
I ask for your contact information to be able to do my billing, no one else sees it and no one will know if you give me the address of a building in your area if you feel more comfortable this way. If you prefer to have a lesson first and decide that you want to continue before sending me your info, that's also an option.
I have a student and a regular rate, depending on what you can afford, and we can make different arrangements if your country's rate makes it too difficult, I've done it before.
Please comment if you have a question!
Much love,
Rose
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somethingsomethingwords · 7 months ago
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Hello hello hello!!! This was born because I needed more Nando being besotted and Lance getting some deserved rest, no other reasons. Thank you for reading. Enjoy 💜.
Fernando was starting to feel some not so vague sense of annoyance at himself.
He and Lance were supposed to go on a date, the first one in a while, because their lives were chaotic and busy as hell.
They were both in Canada, Lance staying home, relaxing after a rough start of the season and some previous commitments, while Fernando was there for some sponsor event that absolutely required his presence, not at all having begged for something to do in Canada, granting him an excuse to be near the other man.
But he must have prayed a little too hard, because not only the event had run later than programmed, but it was followed by a long wait in the car due to the heavy traffic.
While he was sitting in the car, he started making a mental list of all the things he would have to do to make it up to Lance.
The young man had been so happy about finally having some time off together. Despite being visibly tired, he had made some plans, and the promise of more to come once they were back home.
It was strange to think about a manor in a forest as a home for Fernando, but it wasn't home, not really, just like his own house in Monaco wasn't. It was Lance that made every single building that they were in a home.
Love-safety-protection.
But right now, he had to think on how to apologise, because Lance must have been mad as hell.
Usually, when Fernando was late, Lance would write him a text every 10 minutes until he arrived. It was his way of annoying him and still making sure he knew he cared.
Now, it had been radio silence the whole evening. He prayed Lance would let him in, even if just to take a change of clothes.
When he finally arrived, he parked the car and went to the front door.
It was strange, because it was getting dark, but he couldn't see any of the lights on.
He started feeling worried. What if Lance was so mad he left? What if he fell and knocked himself out?
He took a deep breath and opened the door.
First things first, he turned on the lights, and he was going to scream Lance's name, when he finally saw the Canadian.
He was lying on his very comfy sofa, asleep and without his shirt on, because on his chest was napping a peaceful looking blonde baby, thumb in her mouth, wrapped in a blanket, that he recognised as Lance's favourite, and protected by Lance's arm around her. Her cheek rested on his naked skin, seeking his warmth and lulled by his heart beat.
Oh.
Oh.
This tender moment, the softness of niece and uncle bundled together and asleep in the safety of a house Lance promptly opened to Fernando, it was getting to him.
He could almost see Lance with another baby, their hair brown as their eyes, grins mischievous and big smiles, crawling slowly on this same parquet, then running on some sandy beach, speaking fast English then Spanish then French then Italian, their pale skin easily turned red by the sun.
He could see them starting karting, or playing hockey, or maybe wanting nothing to do with sports.
He could see them graduating, moving out, having a family of their own, while he and Lance grew old and grey, happy and satisfied and together.
Together. It seemed impossible, but maybe it wasn't, after all.
The thoughts of a home somewhere quiet, a ring and a child filled his mind, and he softly smiled at a future now lying sleeping on a couch.
At that exact moment, the baby girl started waking up, moving her little arms and softly whining.
He could see Lance starting to wake up as well and decided to intervene. He smiled at the baby, picking her up and gently rocking her. He bent over his lover, and left a kiss in his hairline.
"Keep sleeping cariño, I got her" he whispered, melting at the sight of Lance relaxing once more and mumbling something along the lines of "safe with you".
He rose up and walked to the kitchen. There was already a bag for the baby full of clothes and diapers and baby bottles.
"Are you hungry, mi amor, or you didn't agree with waking up, uh? Your uncle is the same, don't worry" he said, while waiting to understand what she needed: that was pretty clear when she put her whole fist in her mouth.
"Hungry it is. Just give me five minutes, and don't eat your hand" he laughed softly, before sitting her on the high chair Lance had stressed over while buying.
He quickly heated up the milk, making sure it wasn't too hot before feeding it to the girl.  She hungrily took it, and made her way through it, almost finishing it all, before pulling away.
Fernando took her up, and started walking, gently tapping her back until she burped. He then cleaned her up, and returned to the living room.
The moment her eyes were on Lance, the baby tried to reach for him.
Fernando giggled and re-wrapped her in the blanket, depositing her once again on his chest.
Instinctively, Lance put his arm around the baby, and their breaths soon synchronised.
Fernando was left once again the only one awake. He decided to wait for Lance to wake up, sitting on the armchair near his head, just at touching distance. He started passing his hand through the younger man's hair, and was rewarded by a deep sigh of happiness.
Date night could wait, when they had a baby to take care of and some well deserved rest to look forward to.
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lucvly · 1 year ago
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can you do chris w a latina gf? i need that sm i’ve been asking everywhere 🙏🏻
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— chris with a latina girlfriend hcs! ⸰ 𖥔 ͙
warnings: a little suggestive but nothing too crazy ! not proofread oops
a/n: this was so fun to write ☹️
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— loooves it when you teach him how to dance. you taught him how to dance bachata because your tía kept making fun of his ass for not knowing how to dance. at first he Sucked but now he out dances you. + dances salsa better than you ever could.
— knows all of bad bunny and karol g’s discography thanks to you. he can name at least five songs from them from the top of his head.
— family gatherings are always such a rollercoaster with him it’s hilarious. you’ll literally be serving food for him and yourself when all the sudden he’s nowhere to be found ??? guess where he’s at... yeah, playing fortnite with your primos.
— has a really hard time remembering everyone’s names at first, especially your tías and primos.
— is such a cutie HELPP loves learning about your culture, he thinks it makes you way more special.
— if you’re fluent, he asks you to help him with a few spanish lessons just so he can communicate with your family a bit better.
— sometimes you call him spanish pet names and he just completely melts. (“mi amor”, “mi vida”, “cielo”) and he’s on his knees worshipping the ground you walk on.
— he gets along surprisingly well with your parents. overall he’s just easygoing so your mom had always loved him. your dad on the other hand... not so much.
— made a somewhat bad first impression on your dad because he was lowkey nervous ???
— after that terrible first impression with your dad, somehow they started getting along so well at the next family gathering though. your dad is calling him mijo atp like ??? those two would sit and watch soccer together, laughing their ass off and actually being excited about the game– (you and your mom are clueless as to when and how they started bonding).
— after that, whenever you visit their parents they’re always asking about chris.
— this one time, you went to visit your parents without chris because he was on tour with his nick and matt. your dad was so confused as to why he didn’t come with you ??? called chris & everything LMFAOO. you had to remind that man who his real child is 🙄🙄.
— he’ll start catching onto your superstitions subconsciously HELPP. you keep telling him to stop walking under flights of stairs or sweeping over people’s feet because it’s bad luck. at first he’s soo confused but he eventually starts telling his brothers to stop doing it as well because he’s terrified it’ll actually be bad luck.
— he definitely eats those 12 grapes with you at midnight after kissing you idgaf !!
— loves trying traditional dishes !! that man is eating all the empanadas and buñuelos at the family gathering idc,,,
— nick keeps teasing him because of how much he’s listening to bad bunny, daddy yankee, maluma and karol g LMFAOOO.
— +++ he tries singing the lyrics with his whole heart but miserably fails duh, you still think it’s cute how passionate he is about it though.
— he definitely had to get used to hugs and cheek kisses as a way of greeting people.
— this mf always ends up playing fortnite or minecraft with your little cousins.
— he knows how important grand gestures are in your culture so he’s going all out for anything and everything. this man will actually always show up with a bouquet of roses at your door and claim it’s your 1.2 year anniversary or something.
— he loves trying the weird food combinations LMAOO, he’s so surprised at how y’all come up with those combinations but always ends up trying them and loving them. (“who even thought of this?” “just try it amor, oh my god.”) ++ big fan of jelly and condensed milk, chicken and honey + hot chocolate and cheese.
— he finds it so amusing how you’re able to communicate in different languages like How ?? that’s too complicated in his mind– he really does find it captivating.
— i just know he’d be so into novelas. unironically sits down and watches la rosa de guadalupe with you. he thinks the plots are actually insane and he gets such a good laugh out of it. he loooves it.
— he has google translate ready for those rare occasions when you argue and you meaninglessly curse him out in spanish. lowkey finds it sexy bye 😣
— when you two start dating he starts to actually understand spanish, he can’t speak it even if his life depended on it but– this means you really can’t talk to your tías about his ass because he’ll understand every word. (he plays dumb though because he loves hearing you talk about how handsome he is and how much you love him bye)
— half of your family genuinely thinks his name is cristóbal ???
— lord save him from watching you dance old reggaeton. that man is drooling. i’m talking guatauba, candy, te imagino, etc !!! he has to take a deep breath and keep it together despite everything that’s going through his head.
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