#when the camera man dont got me

[siphoklansan]

ʀ.ᴏ.ᴛ.ᴄ sʜᴇɴᴀɴɪɢᴀɴs ᴘᴛ.1

In his paparazzi era /j

[spikeyjo]

all of my decisions are under a microscope and if you look very closely into the microscope you can see me flipping you the hell off.

[genekies]

screaming, tearing my hair out, sobbing face down on my bed

[ragnars-tooth]

I should not have been taught so badly for 3 years that i genuinely have to google how to find job postings in my field. "Get a degree!! Get a degree!!" for why. To be laughed at by out of touch tutors and not taught anything? It's certainly not going to help me get a job because i CANT FIND THEM. "People will see you went here and that will give you credibility." Will it roderick. Because I now know not to trust a motherfucker who went here 💀

[luvoooenha]

Lucky charm!

Pairing- Boyfriend! Jake x Girlfriend! Y/N

Summary- Jake, the top soccer player at UNI, always relied on Y/N’s support—until a huge argument left him distracted before a big game. Without her in the stands, he struggled to play, missing shots and worrying his team. Realizing how much he needed her, a teammate called Y/N, who debated but ultimately showed up, looking her best. The moment Jake saw her, his focus returned, and he played like himself again. After the game, they made up, proving that Y/N was truly his lucky charm.

Warnings- FLUFF, FLUFF, FLUFF, anger, angst, arguments, happy couple… (jokes! Not really)

Word count- 1.8k

plsplsplsplsplspls dont copyyy my work!

“You don’t get it, Y/N!” Jake’s voice was sharp, frustration thick in every word.

“Then explain it to me, Jake! Because right now, it feels like I’m the only one trying.” Y/N’s arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her voice shaking between anger and hurt.

Jake let out a humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You think I don’t care? That I don’t appreciate you?”

Y/N exhaled sharply. “Jake, I’ve been to every single game, every late-night practice, every stupid press conference where they ask you the same questions. And not once have I ever complained.” Her voice broke slightly, but she pushed on. “But the second I bring up how I feel, I’m the bad guy?”

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. The look in her eyes—raw and filled with unshed tears—made his chest tighten.

“I can’t keep doing this if you don’t want me here, Jake.”

His stomach twisted. That wasn’t what he wanted at all. But his stupid pride got in the way, and instead of telling her the truth—that he needed her more than anything—he muttered, “Maybe it’s better that way.”

The second the words left his lips, he wanted to take them back.

Y/N’s face fell, her jaw tightening as she nodded slowly. “Okay.”

And just like that, she turned and walked away.

Jake stood frozen, watching her disappear into the night.

He had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

-

The silence between them was louder than anything Jake had ever experienced.

Y/N hadn’t texted. Hadn’t called. Hadn’t shown up to practice.

Jake told himself he was fine. That he could focus better without distractions. But when game day rolled around, it hit him like a freight train.

He jogged onto the field, scanning the stands on instinct. But the seat where she always sat—third row, left side, just behind the team bench—was empty.

His stomach clenched.

He tried to shake it off as the game started, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. His passes were off. His speed felt sluggish. Every shot he took either hit the post, went wide, or was blocked by the keeper.

The frustration built with every mistake, weighing him down like lead.

The final whistle blew, and UNI had lost. Jake barely heard the post-game speech from his coach, too busy replaying every missed opportunity in his head.

When he got back to the locker room, he didn’t even bother taking off his cleats right away. He just sat there, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the floor.

Jay, his closest teammate, nudged him. “Dude. What’s going on?”

Jake exhaled slowly. “Nothing. Just an off day.”

Jay scoffed. “Nah, man. This is more than that. I’ve never seen you play like this.” He paused. “It’s Y/N, isn’t it?”

Jake didn’t answer.

Jay sighed. “Look, I don’t know what happened, but it’s obvious you’re a wreck without her.”

Jake clenched his jaw. “She’s probably better off.”

Jay rolled his eyes. “Yeah? Then why do you keep looking for her in the stands?”

Jake said nothing.

Jay grabbed his phone. “I’m texting her.”

Jake should’ve stopped him. Should’ve told him to leave it alone.

But he didn’t.

Y/N sat on her bed, knees pulled to her chest, as she mindlessly scrolled through her camera roll. Each swipe brought a new memory, a new reminder of everything she and Jake had been before it all fell apart.

There was a photo of him grinning at her during one of their late-night study sessions, his notes forgotten as he balanced a pencil between his nose and upper lip, trying to make her laugh. She had rolled her eyes at the time, but she could still remember the way her stomach had fluttered when he looked at her like she was the best part of his world.

Another picture—Jake, covered in sweat but grinning like a fool after a big win, his arm slung lazily around her shoulders. She had been laughing, caught mid-cheer, his jersey draped over her like a second skin. She had been so proud of him. She always was.

And then, one of her favorites—a candid shot of them from a lazy Sunday morning. Jake, shirtless and half-asleep, stealing bites of her breakfast as she swatted at his hand, laughing at his shamelessness. His hair had been a mess, his eyes still heavy with sleep, but he had looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered.

Y/N’s chest ached.

She missed him. More than she wanted to admit.

Her fingers hovered over his contact, the familiar urge to text him creeping in. But then, like a cruel reminder, his words echoed in her head.

"Maybe it’s better that way."

She swallowed the lump in her throat, locking her phone. If that was what he wanted, then fine. She wouldn’t be the one to break first.

But then, as if the universe was laughing at her stubbornness, her phone buzzed.

Jay: Jake’s a mess. He needs you. Badly.

Her heart clenched.

She should ignore it. He was the one who pushed her away. He was the one who made her feel like she didn’t matter.

But… if that were true, why was he struggling so much?

Y/N exhaled slowly, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes betrayed her, filled with something she wasn’t ready to name yet.

She could walk away. Let Jake figure this out on his own. Prove to herself that she didn’t need him as much as he needed her.

But that was a lie.

Because no matter how angry or hurt she was… she still loved him.

And she wasn’t sure she ever wouldn’t.

With a resigned sigh, she grabbed her jacket and touched up her makeup.

If she was going, she was going to make an entrance.

She headed out the door, her heart pounding.

Jake needed her.

And whether she liked it or not… she needed him too.

-

Jake jogged onto the field, his mind clouded with doubt.

His body felt heavy, his nerves shot. The last few games had been a disaster, and the weight of failure clung to him like a storm he couldn’t outrun. He tried to shake it off, stretching his arms and bouncing on his feet, but nothing felt right.

Then, instinctively, he looked toward the stands.

And everything stopped.

His breath hitched. His heart stuttered.

Y/N was there.

Sitting in her usual spot—third row, left side, just behind the team bench.

Jake blinked, half-convinced he was imagining it. But no, it was real. She was real.

And damn, she looked good.

Her hair was styled just the way he liked, her makeup subtle but stunning. She wore his favorite shade, the one he always said made her eyes stand out, and even from across the field, he could see the way her lips curved in something between challenge and amusement.

She came.

A rush of energy shot through his veins, the kind he hadn’t felt since before she left. His pulse pounded, but this time, it wasn’t from nerves—it was from something deeper, something electric.

His lucky charm had returned.

And just like that, everything clicked back into place.

The whistle blew, and Jake was unstoppable.

Every pass was precise, every shot powerful. He weaved through defenders with the confidence he’d been missing, his movements sharp and deliberate. The frustration that had been drowning him for days melted away, replaced by pure instinct.

And every time he scored, he didn’t look at the scoreboard. He didn’t look at his teammates.

He looked at her.

Y/N sat there, arms crossed, trying to look unimpressed. But he saw the way her lips twitched, the way her fingers tapped against her thigh. She was proud of him—he knew it.

By the final whistle, UNI had secured the win. The crowd erupted in cheers, his teammates swarming him with congratulations, but Jake barely acknowledged any of it.

His eyes were locked on her.

Without a second thought, he sprinted toward the stands, pushing past the crowd. Y/N had already started making her way down toward the field, and when she stopped in front of him, they just stood there, staring at each other.

For the first time in days, Jake could breathe again.

“I was an idiot.” His voice was breathless, raw. “I didn’t mean any of it, Y/N. I was just—” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair. “I was scared. Of how much I need you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, arms still crossed. “Yeah? I figured, considering how hard you flopped without me.”

Jake huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “I deserved that.”

“Damn right, you did.”

A small smile tugged at her lips, but Jake didn’t miss the way her tough exterior wavered, the way her eyes softened just slightly.

He took a step closer. “Y/N, I mean it. I never should’ve pushed you away.” His voice dropped to something quieter, more vulnerable. “You’re everything to me.”

She sighed, finally uncrossing her arms. “Jake… you can’t shut me out when things get hard. That’s not how this works.”

“I know,” he admitted, his gaze never leaving hers. “And I won’t. Ever again.”

Y/N studied him for a long moment, and then, finally, she sighed in defeat. “You’re lucky I like you, Sim.”

Relief crashed over him, and before she could say anything else, he closed the distance, wrapping his arms arowund her and pulling her in tight.

She hesitated for half a second before melting into him, her arms circling his waist.

Jake buried his face in her hair, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume, and everything felt right again. “I missed you,” he murmured.

“I know,” she teased, voice muffled against his jersey. “I could tell from your embarrassing game stats.”

He chuckled, pulling back just enough to look at her. “Guess I need you to keep me in check.”

“Clearly.”

Jake reached up, brushing his thumb over her cheek, his voice softer now. “So… does this mean you’ll be at the next game?”

Y/N smirked. “As long as you keep winning.”

He grinned, pressing a kiss to her forehead before whispering, “Then I guess I have no choice.”

Because she wasn’t just his biggest supporter.

She was his lucky charm.

-

OMG TYSM FOR 500 NOTES! (I didn't even think this was good...)

isa note! - lallalala first story!!! lalalall so excited! lalalalalla

taglist~ @firstclassjaylee

if wanted to be tag plspslplspsls let me know! 💗

© luvoooenha on tumblr 2024-2025. please don’t copy, repost, or translate my works! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :)

[angelsuecult]

the captain | s. crosby

warnings: sexual content, strong language, MDNI, 18+, NSFW, minors please do no interact, smut.

summary: Sid is given a hard time by his gf about his very stoic interactions with the media. he's not going to let you off so easy.

request: Younger reader and Sidney are already dating, but she can’t help but roll her eyes at his impeccable media training and family friendly personality in the media he does for the league, so she makes fun of him and takes a strong interest in pushing his limits 👀 (aka ends in smut)

word count: 6.3k

a/n: sorry for the extended hiatus guys! i should be back to regular uploads at this point in time and i am currently working through the request list! more to come to keep your eyes peeled guys! thank you for your patience with me! angelsuecult returns!! also to the original requester please don't hesitate to reach out if i completely missed the mark on this and you want me to retry! and requests are still open and update so dont forget to check that out!

--

You’re pretty sure Valentine’s Day games are a scam. Some cruel cosmic joke designed to make girlfriends sit through 60 minutes of freezing cold air and overpriced concessions just to watch their man play his heart out in a sport that could, at any moment, take all his teeth and potentially a limb.  

Not that you minded. Much.  

Sidney had played his ass off tonight—like he had something to prove. Not that he ever really didn’t, because the man didn’t know how to do anything half-assed. Especially not when it came to hockey. Or you, for that matter.  

But of course, it just had to be Valentine’s Day.

You stood now in the tunnel by the player’s exit, phone in hand, watching as Penguins fans in Crosby jerseys flooded toward the concourse, buzzing about the win. Your fingers flew over your screen.  

You: You know I was going to blow you when you got home, but I’m reconsidering because you just had to make it about you tonight.

Three dots appeared almost immediately. Then vanished. Then nothing.  

You rolled your eyes and snorted. “Coward.”  

The man had just been named first fucking star of the game. Of course he had. Two goals, one assist, and a faceoff win percentage so sexy it made you squirm a little. You knew his media obligations were kicking off soon—he was probably just peeling his sweaty gear off now, miserable about the idea of answering questions about “how it felt” and “what went right tonight.”  

Sid: Can’t believe you’re texting me shit like that while I have to sit half dressed with 5 cameras pointed at me.

You bit your lip and grinned.  

You: I can. 

You: You looked good tonight. Real good. Like I’d let you put it in my ass kind of good.  

You: Kidding. Kind of.  

Another pause. He was slow replying, which you’d expected, and it only made you smirk more knowing he was probably trying not to react in front of his teammates or, worse, the media guys. You could practically see his jaw tightening as he tried to suppress a smile, annoyed but secretly delighted.  

You could picture him already—still in his gear, slumped at his stall with his towel around his neck and that half-annoyed, half-resigned expression on his face. Someone probably tossed a mic in his face already. He was probably giving them that polite nod, the “Sure, go ahead” look, all while internally screaming. Sidney, Sidney, Sidney. Too private for his own good.

Sid: Go to my place. I’ll be done soon.

Sid: Stop texting me this shit.

You laughed out loud, drawing a glance from a nearby couple as you stepped out into the cold Pittsburgh night.

You: Oh baby, I haven’t even started.  

You: Maybe I’ll be in your bed.  

You: Maybe I’ll be in your shower.  

You: Maybe I’ll be in that stupid jersey you “don’t like me wearing because you take it seriously.”  

You could practically hear him groaning through the screen.

Sid: You’re an asshole.

Sid: Say the same shit every time anyway.

Sid: “Good team effort, got the bounces, lucky to come out on top.”

Sid: Happy now?

You: You forgot “credit to the guys” and “just trying to play the right way”

You: Gotta hit all the NHL buzzword bingo squares.

You: And don’t forget to smile like a humble Canadian virgin!

No reply. You let that one simmer. He was either suffering or plotting. Maybe both. Probably both.

You pulled your coat tighter around you, breath fogging in front of your face as you made your way to your car. The wind cut through your jeans, but your smile stayed in place. There was something so satisfying about teasing him after a big win—especially when he hated the attention but couldn’t stop being the best guy on the ice. You just couldn’t help yourself.

You got in the car and cranked the heat while pulling up the radio broadcast. They were still recapping the game, gushing over Sid like he wasn’t just a man who’d once tripped over his own shoe in the hallway.

“…and of course, Crosby with a textbook finish. You can see why he’s still one of the most consistent players in the league…”

You rolled your eyes, mimicking the voice in the car. “Oh yes, Sidney. So clean. So polished. Such a gentleman. Definitely didn’t say he was going to fuck me through the headboard if he scored tonight.”

Traffic cleared slowly as you went to his place, a familiar route etched into your brain. His street was quiet when you pulled in—classic Sid, all understated wealth and privacy. It took you forty five minutes to get from the arena to his house, another five to park and kick off your shoes inside the door.  It smelled like him—like clean laundry, cedarwood, and that subtle vanilla scent of his shampoo you’d teased him for using but secretly loved.

You wandered through his halls, turning on a few lights, getting cozy. It always felt familiar here, even though it was very clearly his space—clean, functional. Like a guy who didn’t like clutter but had more money than he knew what to do with.

You padded into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. Full of ingredients. Not a single thing you could just grab and go.

“Romantic,” you muttered under your breath, pulling out a container of strawberries instead and wandering toward the couch.

The rest of the house was dark except for the hallway light, left on for you, and your socked feet were silent on the hardwood as you climbed the stairs to his bedroom. The hallway was chilly as you padded toward the bedroom in your socks, carrying the half-eaten strawberries and your phone tucked beneath your arm. Sid’s place had that always-too-clean look to it. Like he tried to live in it, but barely spent enough time home for it to actually look lived in. You made a note to mess it up later. Nothing too dramatic—just a sweatshirt on the floor, maybe a bra hanging off the couch cushion, leave a cup on the counter. Domestic terrorism.

You tossed your phone on the nightstand and peeled off your jacket, fingers brushing over the remote on the dresser.  

TV on.  

Pants off.  

You were in his bed now, wearing his shirt—an old Penguins one that smelled like his laundry detergent and game day nerves—and absolutely nothing underneath.  

Just as God intended.  

The analysts were falling over themselves about his performance.

“…you know what you’re getting with Sid. Every single night. Discipline. Poise. He’s just got it.” You snorted.

“Yeah, discipline until he’s got me pinned under him telling me I’m not going anywhere until I apologize for teasing him about his ‘media voice.’”

Another buzz from your phone.  

Sid: About to start media. They’re dragging it out tonight.  

Sid: You’re lucky I like you.  

Sid: And that I want to fuck you stupid.  

You choked on your laugh, clutching your phone tighter as you wiped strawberry juice from your fingers onto his shirt. You stretched dramatically across the bed and typed.  

You: Wow. Romantic.  

You: Just like I dreamed when I was 10.  

You: “One day I’ll date a hockey player who talks to me like a caveman on Valentine’s Day.”

Sid: Don’t act like you don’t like it. You’re already naked, aren’t you?

You: You’re not even here yet and you already think you know everything.  

Sid: I do know everything. And I know you’re wearing my shirt. And that’s it.  

Sid: Because you’re predictable. And a little slutty.

You covered your face with one hand and laughed out loud into the empty room. Your heart fluttered like a fucking schoolgirl even as you cursed him out in your mind.  

There was something wildly unfair about the duality of Sidney Crosby. The version the world knew—stoic, polite, humble to the point of parody. And then the real version. The one who texted you filthy things from the dressing room and called you a brat with that low rasp in his voice that promised you wouldn’t be walking straight the next day.

He was such a damn con artist.

You: You’re the one who’s gonna cry when I leave you with blue balls tonight.  

You: “Sorry Sid, I got tired waiting for you.”  

You: “Sorry Sid, I used all my energy climbing your stairs.”  

You: “Sorry Sid, I found your toothbrush and that did it for me.”

Sid: You’re such an asshole.

Sid: You’re lucky I’ve been horny for you since warmups. 

Sid: You knew what you were doing, sitting that close.

You had known.  

You always knew.  

And he always played better when he knew you were there watching.  

You yawned, stretched your legs beneath his sheets, and flopped dramatically on the bed, taking up all the space just to be a brat. You could already hear it: his sigh of fake annoyance when he got home, the shake of his head, the way he’d peel your shirt up with one hand and drag your body down with the other.  

You rolled to your stomach, phone buzzing again beside you.  

Sid: I’ll be home soon. You better be exactly where I think you are.

Sid: And if you’re not, you’re done. Actually done. I’ll find a Valentine who respects me.

You: You?  

You: Wanting respect?  

You: I’m sorry. I thought this was Sidney “I’ll fuck you on the bench if no one’s around” Crosby.

No reply. Which told you all you needed to know.  

He was already doing media.  

Probably giving his same bland ass answers.  

Probably planning what he was going to do the second he walked through that door.  

You looked around, debated getting up to light a candle or make the bed look a little less like a war zone. Then shrugged.  

Let him deal with the chaos he caused.  

You flipped onto your back and sighed happily, smirking at the ceiling.  

The remote was still in your hand when the screen switched from the postgame panel to the locker room feed. You didn’t even bother turning up the volume—didn’t need to. You could already hear it in your head.  

Sidney Crosby, media-trained robot, coming to life in hi-def.

You sighed and settled deeper into his bed, still cocooned in his shirt, bare legs tangled in his sheets. The duvet smelled like him. So did the pillow you were shamelessly half-lying on, half-straddling. Your phone sat close, a loaded weapon in the war of flirtation, but for now, you watched.  

There he was, perched in his stall, sweat-slick hair hidden under a black team hat, compression long sleeve clinging to his chest and arms like it was painted on. No jersey. No pads. Just muscle, all angles and sharp focus, like the game hadn’t even left his bloodstream yet. Cue Captain Canada.

The reporter asked about the team’s energy tonight, and you muttered out loud to no one, “We played a full sixty, stuck to our game, did the little things right—blah, blah, blah.”  

And then, right on cue:  

“Yeah, I thought we played a full sixty tonight… stuck to our game, did the little things right…”  

You cackled.

“Fucking called it.”  

He looked half dead behind the eyes, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, nodding as another reporter threw a question at him. You didn't even bother listening this time. You just watched his face. That twitch of his mouth when he was trying not to say what he really wanted to say. That calm, serious voice he used like a shield. That stupid, safe, polished version of himself that made you want to throw something at the screen.  

Because you knew the real Sid.  

The one who talked absolute filth into your ear with that same mouth.  

The one who made fun of his teammates the second the cameras were off.  

The one who said “fuck” more than he said “I.”  

And then—then—it happened.  

The reporter asked:  

“It’s Valentine’s Day, Sid. You played a great game. Got any plans tonight?”  

You sat up a little. That one actually surprised you. When did the reporters get so bold?

He gave them that laugh—that stupid, breathy chuckle he only used when he didn’t want to give too much away. Then he smiled, eyes low, lips pressed together like he was fighting off the real answer.  

“No,” he said. “Just recover. Get ready for the next one.”  

That was it. That was all.  

You stared at the TV, jaw slightly open.  

“Recover?” you muttered. “That’s your answer? No wink? No cute little nod? Not even a fucking smirk? You lying sack of shit, Sidney Patrick.”  You looked absolutely nuts talking to yourself.

You picked up your phone and unleashed.  

You: “Just recover,” he says.  

You: Wow. My pussy just dried up.  

You: Say hello to celibacy apparently.  

Still no reply. You fired off another.  

You: You are such a fucking fraud.  

You: There is literally a naked woman in your bed. Right now. At your house.  

You: On Valentine’s Day.  

You: But nooo, he’s gonna “recover.”  

You: Go ahead, Sid. Recover. I’ll just be here. Thinking about life. My choices. The fact I could’ve fucked a dentist. Or literally anyone else but hey.

You bit your lip to hide a smile, watching him wrap the interview up, nodding politely, face locked in full Captain Mode. You could practically feel the tension buzzing under his skin. The itch to get the hell out of there and back to you.  

One more for good measure:  

You: When they say “Crosby keeps his private life quiet,”  

You: They don’t know it’s because he talks so much shit in bed the FCC would fine him.

That did it.

Your phone lit up almost the second he stood from his stall.  

Sid: You need to be stopped.

Sid: You need help.

Sid: I’m not even out of the building yet and I’m hard.

You flopped backward against his pillows, laughing like a lunatic.  

You: I’m sorry did you forget you have a girlfriend? Did your nut brain erase me from memory just because you got first star??

You: Not even a cute little “gonna go home to the girl who’s been letting me rearrange her insides all season”???

You: Also don’t think I didn’t notice your compression shirt. You know exactly what you’re doing you manipulative little slut.

Sid: Jesus Christ

Sid: You knew what you signed up for.

You: I signed up for the hot hockey sex. The rest was a scam.

You: Don’t worry, I’ll be asleep by the time you get home.  

You: No recovering necessary. You’re off the hook.

Sid: You’re not gonna be able to walk tomorrow if you keep this up.  

Sid: You want recovery? I’ll give you something to recover from.

You swallowed.  

Slowly.  

Okay.  

So maybe you did like poking the bear.  

And maybe the bear knew exactly how to fuck you into next week.  

You tucked your phone under your pillow and let out a slow breath, heart thudding, a little thrill sparking low in your belly.  

Valentine’s Day.  

Just another game on the calendar.  

Until Sid got home.

And the worst part was, you didn’t even realize you’d fallen asleep. One second you were tucked under his sheets, limbs comfortably sprawled, phone still clutched in one hand and TV murmuring softly in the background… and the next, you were blinking against the warm glow of the bedside lamp and squinting up at a very large, very amused, very smug silhouette looming over you.

“Unbelievable,” Sidney muttered, shaking his head as he stood beside the bed. His coat was halfway off, his cheeks still pink from the cold outside, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, and that fucking backwards hat still on his head. “All that mouth, and look at you now. Out cold.”

You groaned before you could speak, voice thick with sleep and low like you’d swallowed a blanket. “'M not.”

“You literally just snored,” he said, dropping his bag to the floor with a thud and crouching beside the bed. “Like a full-on little cartoon snore. Tiny inhale, wheeze on the exhale. Real cute.”

“I did not snore,” you mumbled into the pillow. But your voice was gravelly, throat dry, and goddammit—your limbs were heavy with sleep, and he smelled so good, and everything was so warm.

“Look at you,” he murmured, brushing a few strands of hair off your cheek. “Talked all that shit and knocked yourself out.”  

You shifted slightly, nose scrunching, a quiet little groan escaping your throat.

“Mmph.”  

He grinned. Leaned in close to your ear.  

“Babe.”  

Nothing.  

“Babe.” He kissed your cheek. “Hey. Hey. Wake up.”  

You grunted, rolling slightly. “M’tired…”  

You rubbed at your eyes with the back of your hand, barely lifting your head from the pillow.

“…What time is it?”

“Late. Or early. Depends who you ask.” He pressed a kiss to your hair. “You passed out. Didn’t even make it to Valentine’s Day sex.”

You groaned again, voice muffled. “I didn’t mean to. Your bed is criminally warm. I got cozy. My body betrayed me.”

“You talked a lot of shit.”

“Yeah well, I thought you were gonna be faster.”

He laughed low in his chest, slipping his hand beneath the covers to grab your hip and give it a squeeze. He climbed onto the bed with all the smug grace of a man who had absolutely earned this moment of superiority. He leaned down, one knee pressing into the bed right between your legs, and shoved at the covers just enough to catch a glimpse of your legs tangled beneath his sheets.

“You look real cozy for someone who was talking an awful lot of shit about how boring I am,” he said, tone low and teasing.

You squinted at him, your voice a gravelly whisper.

“You are boring. You literally said, ‘recover.’ Who says that on Valentine’s Day? Recover from what, Sidney? Being 37?”

He let out a sharp laugh and pushed your hair back from your face, warm fingers brushing your cheek.

“You’re a little shit,” he murmured.

“And you’re a liar.” You poked a finger into his chest. “You lied to the media. There was an actual naked girl waiting for you in your bed and you gave them the ‘I’m gonna rest up’ speech like a fucking priest.”

Sid rolled his eyes.

“You know I can’t give them anything,” he said. “They’ve been trained like bloodhounds. If I so much as hint at having plans, I’ll have a fucking headline on every sports page tomorrow.”

“God forbid people find out you’re not a virgin,” you deadpanned.

“Watch it,” he warned playfully. “I am a role model.”

You burst out laughing, head tipping back into the pillow.

“Oh my god, you are so full of shit. You talk like you’re running for office, but then you come home and say things like, ‘c’mere, baby, I’ve been thinking about fucking you against the kitchen counter since warmups.’”

He grinned. “Still true, by the way.”

You hummed and looped your arms around his neck lazily.

“You missed your shot then, Captain Celibate. Shouldn’t have let me fall asleep.”

Sid smirked and kissed the corner of your mouth.

“Didn’t realize the threat of dick was the only thing keeping you awake.”

“You should’ve. It’s your strongest feature.”

He laughed again, breath warm against your cheek, before ducking his head to kiss you properly—slow and deep and good, like he had all the time in the world. You melted into it, arms tightening around his neck, legs shifting beneath the covers until you hooked one behind his bent knee, dragging him closer.

Then he nuzzled into your neck again and added, low and dirty:  

“You wanna go back to sleep, or you want me to give you something real to recover from?”  

You groaned dramatically. “You are such a whore, oh my god.”  

“And yet, here you are. In my bed. Wearing my shirt. Wet for me in your sleep, probably.”  

“Shut up—”  

“You were,” he said smugly, dragging his hand up your thigh. “I checked. You twitched.”  

You covered your face with both hands. “You’re disgusting.”  

“You’re worse,” he said, kissing down your throat. “And when you wake up tomorrow sore as hell, I want you to remember who was ready when the moment came, and who—” he nipped your collarbone— “took a nap.”  

“Sidney.”  

“Y/n.”  

You sighed, dropped your hands, and stared up at him.  

“You gonna fuck me or give another locker room interview?”  

He grinned. And with that, he kissed you again, deep and slow and fucking smug. You could feel the smile on his mouth, even as he pressed you back into the mattress like you were the only thing worth coming home to.  

"Holy shit," you said, breathless as he tugged your shirt up over your hips, revealing those barely there red panties you wore when you knew he’d be seeing them. Lacy. Dark. A tiny bow on the waistband.

Sid looked smug. “I’m so obsessed with you, it’s disgusting.”

“You're disgusting,” you corrected, but you were already arching up, letting him pull the shirt over your head. 

He laughed low, all pleased with himself. "You love it."

His hand slipped a little higher, fingertips grazing the side of your hip where your underwear were just barely clinging to your curves.

You sucked in a breath you tried to pretend was casual. "Sid," you warned.

"What?" he drawled, blinking down at you like he hadn’t just started setting your entire nervous system on fucking fire. You lifted your head, giving him a look. "You’re fucking pushing it."

Sid grinned, so goddamn starved it made your toes curl. "You need me to spell it out, Y/N Y/LN?" he teased, voice dropping into that dangerous gravel. "Need me to tell you how bad I wanna fuck you?"

You groaned, covering your face with both hands like that could somehow save you. "Jesus Christ, Sidney."

He pulled your hands away, kissing your knuckles like a fucking gentleman, even while his other hand kept creeping higher up your thigh.

"Could just be gentle," he murmured, kissing the inside of your wrist now, right over your pulse. "Real slow, babe. Let you sit on my cock nice and easy. You barely gotta do anything. I'll do all the fuckin' work."

You whimpered, and he fucking heard it.

He grinned harder, absolutely predatory now, shifting to hover over you more fully, careful not to press too much weight onto you.

"Bet you miss it," he murmured against your ear, lips brushing your skin. You literally had sex in his bed this morning but you hated that he was right, you did miss it.

"Sid," you gasped, arching your back automatically, and fuck, he hadn't even touched you properly yet.

He chuckled low and mean, dragging his mouth along your throat, nipping lightly. "Tell me, baby," he rasped. "Tell me how bad you want it."

You shoved at his chest weakly, more for show than anything else. "I hate you," you breathed. "I fucking hate you."

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled, grinning into your hair. "You love this dick though."

You burst out laughing, half-horrified and half-scorched alive. "You are so fucking nasty," you managed between giggles, pinching his arm lightly.

He caught your hand easily, pressing it down above your head, pinning you with almost no effort. "And you're so fuckin' wet for me right now, I can feel it through your goddamn panties," he grunted, pressing his hips into yours just enough to make you feel the thick, heavy line of him behind his dress pants.

You whimpered again, biting your lip. "Sid," you whispered desperately.

He kissed the corner of your mouth. "Say it," he ordered softly. "Say you want me."

You squeezed your eyes shut, breathing hard.

It was so unfair, how good he was at this. How easily he turned you into this trembling, needy thing even when you thought you had the upper hand for most of the day

But he looked at you like you were the best part of his night. Like he couldn’t wait to ruin you in the best goddamn way.

You cracked your eyes open, meeting his gaze. "I want you," you whispered. "You asshole."

Sid’s grin turned downright feral.

"Yeah?" he rasped, nuzzling into your jaw, his hand finally — finally — sliding under your panties, the rough pads of his fingers skimming where you were already slick and throbbing for him. "Good," he murmured. "‘Cause you're not gettin' away from me, princess. Not tonight."

You gasped as his fingers slipped deeper, teasing, and you clawed at his shoulders, your nails digging into the solid muscle there.

"Sid," you panted. "Bed’s gonna break if you fuck me the way you're lookin' at me right now."

He laughed low, dirty, and thrilled. "Then we'll buy a new one," he said, voice rough as he sank two fingers into you slowly and deep. "Hell, babe, we'll break every goddamn bed from here to fuckin' Canada if it means I get to feel you come around me again."

You moaned helplessly, arching into him.

And when he bent down, kissed you— really kissed you, slow and filthy and possessive — it felt like a promise burned into your skin.

Sid could’ve fucked you stupid in under thirty seconds if he wanted. The way you were already whimpering under him, writhing in his hands, he knew it wouldn’t take much.

But tonight — tonight he wanted to be slow. He wanted to wreck you proper. Melt every bone in your goddamn body.

He slipped his fingers out of you with a slow, slick sound that made you whimper again. He fucking loved that sound. Loved everything about you like this — messy and needy and all his.

"You gotta relax, baby," Sid murmured, dropping kisses along the flushed line of your throat, working his way lower. "Can't be tense on me. Gotta stay nice and easy for me."

Sid pulled back from your body just enough to catch you breathless— just enough to see you, all flushed and desperate, lips swollen, hair a wild halo against the pillows. His heart punched hard against his ribs.

"Fuckin' hell, Y/N," he muttered, staring at you like he couldn’t decide whether to devour you whole or build a shrine at your feet. "Look at you."

You whimpered and tangled your fingers into his hair, tugging gently, begging him wordlessly to keep going.

Sid huffed a soft, broken laugh, dragging your panties slowly — so slowly — down your thighs, baring you completely to him. He didn’t just toss them. No. He pocketed them. Smirked while he was doing it. Like the absolute sex demon he was.

And he was hard. So hard it was actually starting to hurt. He was damn near grinding in his pants for some kind of friction.

He pressed a kiss right between your breasts, trailing down your belly. You shivered so hard it made the mattress creak.

Sid grinned against your skin. "You already taste so fuckin' sweet," he muttered, nosing at your core, not even touching you properly yet, just letting the heat of his breath drive you crazy. "Bet you could get me drunk off your pussy right now, baby. All thick and fuckin' sweet just for me."

"Oh my god, Sidney," You gasped, tossing your head back. "You're fucking filthy."

"Yeah, well," he said, voice low and smug. "You like it, baby. You like havin' me mouth off about how sweet your pussy is when you’re desperate."

You made a sound somewhere between a moan and a sob, and Sid finally gave you what you needed — flattening his tongue and dragging it up through your folds, slow and deep.

Your entire body jerked.

"Jesus fuck, Sid," you gasped, arching off the bed, thighs trembling.

He groaned into you, his hands sliding under your ass to tilt you up even closer to his mouth. "You’re fuckin’ drippin', babe," he muttered, voice vibrating against your soaked skin. "Beggin' for it. Haven’t even touched my cock yet and you’re already so fuckin' close, huh?"

"Fuck you," you moaned, trying to close your thighs around his head — he loved when you did that, so desperate you wanted to trap him there.

Sid laughed low, all smug satisfaction, and stiffened his tongue to shove into your leaky entrance, bobbing in and out like he was starving. Every little whimper, every twitch of your hips, just made him harder, his cock aching in his dress pants.

He shifted one hand, dragging two fingers back inside you, pumping slow, gentle strokes in and out while he circled your clit with his tongue, slow and deliberate. His fingers moved slow between your legs, curling deep, working that perfect rhythm only he knew. Your thighs quivered, trying to clamp shut, but he squared his shoulder and pushed them open lazily. "None a' that," he said, smirking. "You’re taking it, baby. Not hidin’ from me now. Not after all that shit you talked on my phone."

You clawed at the dress shirt he was still wearing, trying to yank him back up. "You’re such a fucking dick," you gasped. "Coulda just got me some flowers and left me the fuck alone—"

Sid grinned, slow and greedy, dragging the how tongue down your slick folds, circling your clit just hard enough to make your hips jerk. "And miss this?" he murmured. "Babe, you’re better than Christmas. Better than a fuckin’ playoff win."

He pushed your shirt up higher until your breasts were exposed, beautiful and tender. He palmed one carefully, thumb brushing across your hardening nipple, and you gasped, your legs falling further open for him.

"Sensitive, huh, baby?" he whispered, watching you squirm. "Bet you could come just from my mouth on you right now, no hands, nothing."

"You’re fucking killing me," you moaned, lifting your hips helplessly, trying to get more friction.

He laughed again — slow, dangerous — and dipped his head to take your clit back into his mouth, sucking softly, then harder, pulling a desperate, broken sound from your throat.

You fisted his hair, hips rocking mindlessly against his face, your whole body tightening.

"Sid, fuck," you gasped, "I can't—I'm gonna—"

He lifted his head, grinning at your flushed, wrecked face. "You gonna come for me already, baby? Just from my fuckin' fingers?" he teased, pumping them harder now, twisting his wrist so his palm rubbed against your clit perfectly. "Fuck, that's hot. Goddamn, you're perfect. So fuckin' good for me,Y/N."

"Jesus–Fuck–Sidney." you cried out, arching hard off the bed as you came, gripping his wrist as if to tell him not to stop, body shuddering, your pussy clenched down so hard around his fingers it almost hurt, soaking his hand and mouth with a gush that made Sid groan into you.

He kept working you through it, slow and patient, until you were trembling, whimpering, utterly wrecked.

He kissed you again, deep and slow, until you went boneless against the sheets, gasping for air.

He pulled his fingers out finally, dragging them slow between your thighs, teasing your slit just to hear you whimper again. Then he sucked his fingers into his mouth, groaning low like you were the best fucking thing he'd ever tasted.

You slapped his chest weakly. "You're disgusting," you muttered, still breathless, half-dazed.

Sid grinned and grabbed your hand, pressing it to the bulge straining against the front of his now wrinkled pants. "Yeah? Feel how bad you got me, baby?" he rasped. "’M about two seconds away from blowin' my load like a fuckin' teenager over here."

You laughed, exhausted and glowing and a little feral around the edges. "Good," you whispered, hooking your legs around his waist. "Now fucking do something about it, Crosby."

He stripped his shirt off one-handed, tossing it somewhere behind him, before finally, finally undoing his jeans.

His cock sprang free, hard and leaking, and you made a broken, desperate sound that made Sid’s heart squeeze. Your mouth actually watered.

“Baby… fuck,” he muttered, his voice low and rough as he guided your hands above your head, he tapped his tip against your slick folds, nudging your clit teasing the both of you, you instinctively moved forward, preparing for more stimulation, “You ready for me, huh?”

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat as you felt the warmth of the head pressing against your entrance, so close yet so far. You could barely form words, the need building inside you too overwhelming, and all you could do was let out a shaky breath, your hips shifting slightly against him. “Mhmmm,” you murmured, your voice trembling with anticipation. “need you.”

With a groan, Sidney shifted above you, his hands holding your hips as he slowly pushed his length into you, slowly, inch by inch. The sensation was overwhelming—your heat, your tightness, the way you stretched around him as he filled you. He couldn’t hold back the curse that slipped from his lips as he bottomed out inside you, his breath ragged as he held you close.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned into your neck, "tightest fuckin' thing, swear to god...made for me."

Sid stayed still for a moment, just breathing, letting you adjust, feeling your soft, fluttering muscles pulsing around him.

You let out a soft moan, your head falling back further into the pillow as you adjusted to the feeling of him inside you. The stretch was delicious, filling you completely, and the slow, steady throb of him buried deep inside made your pulse race. You could feel every inch of him, the way he fit perfectly against that gummy spot inside you, and it made you dizzy with need.

It took every ounce of control he had not to just start pounding into you like a goddamn animal.

Instead, he pulled out slow, almost all the way, and slid back in with one long, careful thrust that made you whimper and dig your heels into the mattress.

"That’s it," he murmured against your temple. "Just like that, princess. Let me take care of you."

He fucked you slowly—long, hard, deep strokes,  savoring every twitch and gasp and curse. You arched under him, hips pushing up, body moving with his like you’d been built just for this.

The sound of his hips hitting the back of your thighs filled the room. He kept a first grip on your hips as he continued a consistent pace. At some point your brain just melted. Your eyes could no longer focus on him above you and your mouth hung open, moans no longer falling from your lips. The only thing you could do was tighten around him.

Sid could feel you getting close. He dropped down, his chest pressing right up to yours stopping his thrusts. But in your cockdrunk you started to grind upwards when Sidney wouldn’t move. Caught between needing the break but also wanting him to continue.He wanted this to last though. 

And just like that, he was sitting back, pulling you up with him. Chest to chest, you were now on top. His lips catching yours in something deeper now—hotter, messier. You gasped as he lifted you slightly, maneuvering with muscle memory and intention, letting you sink down completely onto his cock.

“I got you,” he murmured, one hand on the small of your back, the other moving down to stroke your thigh. “Just move how you want. I’ll follow your lead.”

You couldn’t answer — too full, too overwhelmed, too in love — so you just sat on your knees and began rocking your hips in desperation. He knew you were getting impatient. It was in the way your hips started moving impatiently against his aching cock. He knew you needed to come and that you were close. It was in the way you took everything he gave you, every rough upward thrust, every whispered praise.

You leaned forward, one hand braced on his broad shoulder, the other tangled in his hair as you rode him slowly — hips rolling in little waves, the angle hitting all the right places, making your whole body quake.

“‘M close Sid,” you whispered, gasping when his thumb found your swollen clit again.

“Good,” he said hoarsely, “You need it. Look at you. All needy and swollen. You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. You know that?”

“Don’t stop ohmygodohgodfuck-” you whined, burying your face in his neck.

Sidney couldn’t stop even if he tried to. You’re too damn addicting.

He starts to thrust upward, matching the pace in which you're riding him. He desperate to watch you fall apart on top of him. He pushes two fingers into your mouth, you instinctively start sucking on them as if they’re his cock.

“There she is,” he whispers, rough and low.

You clamp down around his cock, coming hard and fast. It rolled through you in heavy, pulsing waves–warm and all consuming–pulling a wrecked cry from your lips.

“Fucking–Jesus–I’m–Goddammit Sid–”

Sidney came with a deep, desperate groan, burning his face in your neck as his cock twitched inside of your pussy. He emptied himself inside, thrusting up lazily a few times, fucking his come deep inside of you, even as you writhe above him in overstimulation. He watches as his cock drags in and out of you, a circle of your cream circling the base as his come leaks down his length and down to his balls. 

Sid pressed you back onto the mattress, unintentionally thrusting his softened cock into you. You whine softly, already spent and tired and ready for bed. He presses gentle kisses to the side of your face.

“You okay?”

“Mm.” You mumble softly, already drifting off.

You had all the time in the world now. Sid had made damn sure of that.

--

[dckweed]

TIKTOK MADE ME DO IT!GF VS TF141 BOYS

you keep seeing all these cute silly videos of girls trying to lift their massive bfs forcefully onto counters like they’re trying to be flirty or something and you just wanna try it on yours too..your followers have been begging for more of your bf on you account..if you angle the camera so you can hide his face like he likes and catch him off guard it should go easy, right? …right?!

Captain Price – "Hot"

It’s late. Price is standing at the stove, making himself a cup of tea like the old man he is, when you make your move.

You rush up behind him, grab him by the shoulders, and yank with all your strength.

He doesn’t budge.

Like, at all.

"John!" you grunt, trying again. Nothing. The man is solid.

Price barely turns his head. "What the hell are you doin’?"

"Trying—to—move you," you gasp, now throwing your whole weight into it.

He just watches you struggle, bemused. "And why the hell would you do that?"

You pause, panting. "Because it’s hot."

Price blinks. "Hot?"

"Yes," you huff, hands still gripping his arms. "You know, when I just spin you around and shove you onto the counter and—"

He lets out a sharp bark of laughter. "Oh, sweetheart."

You glare. "What?"

He turns fully now, looming over you, his eyes full of amusement. "You think you can lift me?"

Your confidence falters. "I—yes?"

"Love," he rumbles, cupping your face with one large, calloused hand. "I weigh more than your car."

You scowl, planting your hands on his chest. "That is not true."

He grins. "Try it, then."

You inhale sharply. Square your stance. Prepare for battle. Then, with all your might, you bend your knees, grip his waist, and—

Nothing.

Not even an inch. He does not move.

Price lets out a slow exhale, like he’s disappointed in you. "That all you got?"

You groan, letting your forehead fall against his chest. "I hate you."

His chest shakes with quiet laughter. "No, you don’t."

"...I don’t."

He presses a kiss to your forehead. "Good girl. Now, go sit down before you hurt yourself."

Gaz – "—you bastard”

Gaz is rummaging through the fridge when you strike.

You grab his shoulders, spin him around with all your might, and try to lift him.

"Babe, what the fuck—?!"

Your arms strain. "Get up there, you bastard!"

"Babe, NO—"

But then—somehow—you actually lift him.

Not much, but enough that Gaz panics, legs flailing. "WHAT THE FUCK—HOW ARE YOU THIS STRONG?!"

"TOO LATE, YOU’RE GOING UP!"

"NO I’M NOT—"

His elbow knocks into a carton of eggs, which promptly splats onto the floor.

You both freeze.

Silence.

Slowly, Gaz looks at you. "You’re cleaning that up."

You shove him. "Shut up, I almost succeeded."

Gaz groans, rubbing his forehead. "I cannot believe you just tried to deadlift me like a sack of fucking potatoes."

"I almost did it!"

"You are never trying that again—"

"Oh, I am," you declare.

Gaz sighs. "I need a fucking drink."

Ghost – "What the Hell ?"

Ghost is standing at the counter, slicing an apple like some kind of horror movie villain, when you sneak up behind him.

You grab his broad shoulders, spin him around—

—and immediately hit a brick wall.

He doesn’t move. At all.

"...What the hell are you doing, love?"

You gulp. "Nothing."

Ghost stares down at you, unimpressed. "Did you just try to flip me around?"

"...No."

He lifts a brow. "Then why are your hands still on me?"

You slowly remove your hands. "For emotional support."

Ghost exhales through his nose, shaking his head. "Jesus Christ."

"I was gonna lift you onto the counter," you mumble, crossing your arms.

Ghost blinks. Then snorts.

"You—" he gestures vaguely at your much smaller frame—"thought you could lift me—" he gestures at his entire fucking mass—"onto the counter?"

You frown. "You could at least pretend like I had a chance."

Ghost shakes his head, turning back to his apple. "Not even in your dreams, sweetheart."

You huff. "One day, Riley. One fucking day."

Ghost smirks. "Looking forward to it."

Soap – "—I DONT WANNA GO—"

Soap is standing at the stove, minding his own business, when you strike.

You grab him by the arms and yank—

—and, unfortunately, Soap is a lot more compliant than expected.

"WOAH—LASS, WHAT THE HELL—?!"

"YOU’RE COMING WITH ME!"

"I DON’T WANNA GO—"

You try to lift him. Soap panics.

"Babe—Babe, WAIT—"

Your foot slips. You both go toppling to the floor in a mess of limbs, flailing hands, and pure, unfiltered chaos.

For a moment, there’s just stunned silence. Then—

Soap, flat on his back: "Did you just fucking BODYSLAM me?"

You, sprawled across his chest: "I ALMOST HAD YOU."

"YOU FUCKING DIDN’T—"

"I WAS CLOSE—"

"YOU JUST FUCKING TACKLED ME LIKE A DAMN LINEBACKER—"

You groan, pressing your face into his chest. "Why are you so fucking heavy?"

"WHY ARE YOU SO FUCKING DANGEROUS?!"

You both lie there, Soap wheezing as you groan dramatically.

Then, after a beat—

"...We should try again," you mumble.

Soap lets out a pained laugh. "Absolutely the fuck NOT."

Moral of the Story:

You thought you could be the one to execute the trend.

Turns out? You were horribly, horribly wrong.

[renranram]

Maid dress

nsfw!!

schlatt jerking off to reader while she's streaming, obvi inspired when j bought wenston some maid outfits and people were calling him his sugar daddy lols

a/n ; 886 words :)

reader flaunts herself at the camera, spinning whilst she tries on the maid outfit schlatt had bought her, " chat, do i look pretty? " she smiles as she assembles the outfit

meanwhile schlatt was on the call with her, eyes immensely focused on her live stream, " jesus fuck, you look worse " he mutters as reader glares at him through the camera

" well, you bought this for me, so maybe it's not me who's the problem " she rolls her eyes at him as schlatt chuckles, not taking his eyes off his screen once

the two had been close friends for over a year now, meeting through, shamefully, the dsmp, the duo are very different ccs on their own, reader being more into makeup and gaming whilst schlatt's varies

ever since they first met on the server the two just sparked a connection, coming off as frenemies for the public, a banter of theirs but exactly off camera, it was a whole different story

schlatt is reader's sugar daddy

at first reader would just joke about being broke, " oh my fucking godd it's so pretty but i dont wanna waste my money ", " that's so fucking expensive ", " okay im broke " until schlatt got tired and actually offered her to be her sugar daddy

at first reader thought it was a joke, a silly new banter for them but nope!, every week, new parcels would arrive on the streamer's doorstep with small notes, but chat doesn't know that, chat doesn't need to know that

" fine, ill get you a new one done " he mumbles, as he scrolls through amazon, " anime french maid apron lolita fancy dress cosplay costume furry cat ear gloves socks set " he reads out the title causing reader to chuckle as they wear the stockings for the uniform

" oh it comes in pink " he added as reader smiles, " i like pink " she replies as schlatt scoffs, " of course you do "

as the girl sits down on her bed to wear the stockings, schlatt's eyes linger down on her bare thighs, enjoying the view as he leans back on his chair

" do you need something else too? " he mutters as reader gasps, " oh my gosh! you should buy me that uhm... blaire doll thing " she smiles as schlatt shakes his head, " blaire doll thing? " he repeats her, " the fuck is that? "

reader tries to wear the collar to complete the look, " it's like a doll! " she states as she grabs her phone to show off the picture

" that's an ugly looking doll " he mutters, as he gulps, looking down at his now hard on, unironically finding reader in a whole cat maid dress... hot

" more uglier than you are " she retorts as he chuckles, " guess no more doll for you then " schlatt replies, shrugging as reader gasps, now pouting

" im kiddingggg pleaseee buy me one? " she pleads looking at the camera as her live chat speeds up, " .. fuck.. " he groans out, not loud enough for his mic to pick up, him slowly sliding in his hand inside his shorts

" please please please " she continues, as she reads off the chat, " please jschlatt senpai " she bursts out laughing, mentally cringing as schlatt chuckles, " ..fine "

" yay! chat! we fucking wonnn! " she celebrates as she jumps around the frame, clasping her hands together, " we're the best at this shit " she shrugs, smug, unaware that the man she's in a call with is already jerking off to her

" reader.., think im gonna mute for a sec, gotta do something " he mumbles as reader nods, understanding, " bet, im gonna talk with chat for a bit " she smiles, as schlatt immediately mutes himself

" fuck.. what a fucking whore.. i didn't actually think she'd do a stream " schlatt chuckles, amused as he palms himself, as reader did what she said, interacting with her audience

" what a pretty slut holy shit " he chuckles, clearly amused as he bites his lip, his rough hand playing with his dick

" chat i look so pretty right? " reader asks, fixing her hair as chat spams yes, " you damn sure are " he mumbles, as he grabs the base of his cock, using his saliva for lube

" ah fuck, fucking.. so fucking pretty " he breathes out, his body shuddering slightly as he jerks himself off, his eyes never leaving her

" fuck.. fuck.. " schlatt throws his head back as he leans back on his chair, fastening his pace, " stupid fucking whore.. "

he moans out, lifting his shirt up, as he continues to palm himself at the sight of her, he's never gonna buy her those stupid costumes again

or maybe he'll rain her with more gifts, then maybe a flight to texas so she can show everything off to him... maybe

his lashes flutter, fastening his already fast pace as he continues to moan, " stupid fucking slut, .. shit... pretty- pretty whore " he stammers

he can feel his precum leaking as reader talks with her chat, innocent yet suggestive, that stupid maid dress, if schlatt can immediately fly to london, he fucking would, he'd immediately bend her over, not caring if she was streaming or not and fuck her like some animal

" ah fuck! " he moans loudly, his semen, spurting on his keyboard making a fucking mess, " shit... " he groans out

maybe instead of ordering her a new costume, maybe he'll fly her out instead

[tedsies]

i caved and bought the legacy collection out of curiosity

i bought it on steam by the way, no way am I going anywhere near the ea app

random thoughts as i go along:

game loaded up straight away with no issues (what a strange feeling)

got into pleasantview within 2 minutes (obvs I have no cc installed right now so its gonna be faster anyway)

a bit of a jumpscare to see the game again without reshade ngl

straight into the lothario household. don you look... different without all my defaults

screen resolution defaulted to the right size without me having to change anything by the way, which was nice

turned up all the graphics setting to max and going to visit the goth household as that always gives me lag, even vanilla

this experience is already making me realise I need to cut down my 12gb downloads folder, cos man this is so smooth and fast without all of that in my game

well everything is working perfectly straight out of the box. had no issues with multiple sims on the big goth lot

going to quit and load up again with my ui mods and defaults next (along with hugelunatic's ikea pack as cc)

legacy collection has an entirely different file path by the way, so won't mess with existing ultimate collection installs (i wouldn't have dared to do this otherwise)

okay all my defaults, ui mods and some others are now in (downloads folder is up to 3.64gb now) and everything is working fine still

ikea items as cc don't seem to be fully appearing in the catalog though? that might be a me problem but i dont know

adding in all my cas cc now, along with hood defaults and hood deco cc (downloads folder is up to 6.5gb now). i'm also adding in anything else I can think of like camera mods, user startup cheat etc etc

getting into pleasantview in less than 2 mins still

heading into cas for the first time now...

... and it loaded up within 10 seconds even with ALL of my cas cc? and this is the first time too so I would've expected major lag. normally cas takes about 60 seconds to load in my game

update on the ikea pack as cc... the build items are definitely there, but not the buy for some reason?

biting the bullet and adding in the remaining 6gb of my 12gb downloads folder

all of my cc is now in the game and loading times were about 30 seconds longer than before. still no issues

took darren dreamer to a community lot and there were no crashes/issues/lag. normally going to a community lot is very dangerous for me cos its where I get the most crashes or issues, its why all my community lots are incredibly small lot sizes

also I have the hood deco view set to extra large... normally I have to have it set to extra small just to play in a small household

i dont think I'm being delulu here to say things are running better

next up is adding in all of my mods, then after that I might dare putting in my mega populated uberhood save, and try reshade?

another ikea update: everything is showing up now. it was me being an idiot

so all of my mods are now also in (so my entire downloads folder now) and i haven't been able to trigger any crashes or pink soup yet through normal gameplay? even with extra large hood view from lots

reshade keeps crashing my game on startup... damn, what am I doing wrong

RESHADE IS NOW WORKING (ver 6.1.1)! thanks to this guide

I finally added in my uberhood save (which is packed with hood deco and and has 35 playable families).... and it's working! I also played with a household for a bit and everything was working fine

final update before I go to bed (as its gone midnight here lol)

i now have all of my mods, cc, saves, and reshade installed, and I've yet to have any pink soup or crashes (apart from the crashes when I was *incorrectly* trying to install reshade). honestly... i'm surprised. i dont want to speak too soon obviously, but things seem better. i was just playing in a household with extra large lot view on and that would usually IMMEDIATELY crash my game, but nothing happened. tomorrow i'll actually play for an extended period of time, so i'll be able to tell more for sure then.

i hope this has been helpful to at least a couple of people, and i'll leave with you a shot of my pleasantview newly loaded up in the legacy collection 😅

[begginmonty]

working with mike

(this doesn't follow the plot directly and mike works like more than just 3 shifts, also this is legit 2k words long i got so so so carried away im just so in love with mike, apologies!! its also not been proofread sorry <3)

before mike is hired alongside you, steve raglan had given you the job a week or so ago after you had lost your last job over a silly customer dispute (the customer is never right) and steve was your last hope at job, and bingo he had one. here you are 2 weeks later, waiting by your car outside the rundown pizzeria, waiting to train the new guy whose supposed to help you

a car pulls up and out comes a very pretty, but very tired/drained, looking guy, you introduce yourself with a small smile and he doesn’t return it, and is like “im mike”, you give him the benefit of the doubt that he hasn't smiled at you, new jobs are stressful.

the first shift goes fine, you tell him the basics and show him the training video tape, which alongside your commentary of making fun of some of it and nit-picking little things finally gets an amused smile from him. you can see him ease up a little. he doesn’t talk as much as you do but he seems to enjoy your ramblings. 

you show him the showtime performance after he looks confused about ‘animatronics’ . watching his reaction of the animatronics rendition of talking in your sleep by the romantics is a little amusing to you but you were the same way when vanessa had shown you originally.

“its something isn’t it?” he doesn't reply, he just stood looking in disbelief. 

when morning rolls around, you show him how to lock up and then give him his own key that steve had given you. 

“wasn’t so bad was it?” 

“it was..different” 

the second shift alongside mike is different but a good different. he’s running a little late and walks in on your blasting an 80s hot pop hits tape over the old speakers, vacuuming the main dining area. a smile, that melts his heart a little, lights up your face as you see him walk in.

“im sorry i’m late the babysi-”

“hey, dont stress it. you still made it!” 

he is not used to someone being so nice and friendly to him??  its foreign but he finally cracks you a small smile, watching you as you turn on the vacuum and continue listening to the music. (i need to hug him i stg)

he hasn't met anyone as nice as you in a long long time, it’s refreshing for him

and not in a creepy way !!!!!!!!!!! but he watches the cameras and watches as you just listen to the music as if the world isn’t there and continue to clean the area. 

“need a hand?” 

mike speaks up as you take a break leaning against a table, facing the main stage, the curtains open (as your next task is going to clean around the animatronics, it’s getting too dusty), music turned down quietly. he comes and leans against the table with you. you start small talk, saying something about the animatronics and you guys talk a little.

“so, you said something about a babysitter, do you have, like, a kid or something? sorry if im being too nosy, please tell me to shut up or something” mike cannot get over how nice you are

and then mike explains his living situation, and then the two of you get into a discussion about how families can suck and be shitty ect

and mike really likes how you don't pry or ask him lots of questions like others have done in the past, this man is really liking you and he’s only know you for two days

“this guy…must’ve been on something to make this place” and mike laughs a little !!! for the first time you got him to laugh !!

“yeah it’s something isn’t it..” both of you are sat against a table just staring at the animatronics in front of you

the two of you make small talk as you wipe down the dust covered tables but you can see how tired he is, he’s yawning a little bit.

“hey, you know, you can like sleep on the job by the way?” he looks up at you from the table, “sometimes i take a good couple hours nap in the office, no ones breaking into this place anytime soon”

he tries to protest and mentions towards the cleaning products and you brush him off, “go, you need it”

mike feels a strange warmth in his heart the hasn't felt, maybe ever? and he naps for a few hours whilst you continue to clean around. cleaning isn't in your job description but honestly you’re worried about the level of dust entering your lungs y'know

a loud thud and chair scraping noise comes from the office and you run to it and see mike on the floor, he looks confused and you help him to sit up. you ask if he’s okay but he seems out of it, “mike, whats wrong?”

sitting on the floor together, mike explains everything to you and opens up to you about a little brother he had, and tells you about his dream issues and sleep issues and you can see he’s upset and shaken by this dream. He shows you the sleeping pills and he explains the dream theory he’s been reading about.

“this is the part where somebody usually calls me crazy” 

“you aren’t crazy, mike” mike notices how kind you eyes are and how warm your voice is, “i’ve seen crazy. you are far from it” you joke a little and he has the faintest smile tug at his lips. 

finally home time woo !! as you lock up the gate, you watch as mike goes to his car, “mike wait!”

he turns around almost instantly at your voice as you run up to him, you pull something out from your hoodie a fazbear security badge and hand it to him, “you’re officially security now” he takes it from you and thanks you with that small smile. 

3rd shift passes (you could’ve sworn foxy was standing in a different spot and bonnie’s hand placement looked completely different) and vanessa comes for her weekly visit and meets mike. when you aren’t with them, vanessa brings up the fact that you’re one of the kindest and nicest people she’s ever met and mike agrees. 

next shift goes by and another and you guys have a long conversation about everything and you tell him more about yourself. hes never really been romantically involved with anyone but somebodysss got a crush (its him and well, you do too). and then you let him sleep and decide to tackle the old kitchen. (you could’ve sworn you heard someone walk down the hallway but you double check and no ones there)

mike dreams again and you swear you hear a groan and you walk to the office to see him, out of breath, breathing, clutching his arm and theres blood coming from it and he looks up at you trembling. “oh my god mike, what happened?”

you sit opposite him, patch him up and make him a hot drink, and he's explaining everything to you and you can tell he’s really getting bothered by these dreams. (you also think hes hurt himself from falling off the chair somehow..unbeknownst to you)

he’s tearing up a little and you just hold his hand in yours, and he's looking at your kind eyes and he doesn’t know how to react to being touched, he stops talking (mike is incredibly touch starved oh my god) and, carefully, you lean forward and hug him very gently.

he’s stiff at first but you can feel him relax into the hug and he wraps his non-injured arm around you and grips onto your back, “its okay mike. you’re okay” you can tell he really needs this hug and you can tell no one has really hugged him in a long time.

when the shift ends and you say goodbye for the day, your car just refuses to start. you cannot start it at all. you get out the car and look at it in a huff, but lucky for you mike hasnt driven a way yet

he gets out his car and you explain to him about your car, and he offers if you want a lift home or at least back to his house (his house is much closer than yours) and you can call someone about the car and you agree.

the drive is nice, you notice he has a great taste in music

meeting abby!! mike excuses himself for a shower whilst you're ringing the mechanics for your car, and he accidentally falls asleep on his bed after. when he wakes up (a good hour or so later, which you really don't mind) he walks into the living room to see you and abby sat on the floor colouring together with a cartoon on the tv, and you guys are really getting along and she’s wearing your security guard vest and badge. (her friends told her to trust you)

“uh abby, why dont you get ready for school?” mike speaks up, causing you both to look in his direction. 

you can't fight the fact that he looks hot with joggers and shirt on, looking sleepy as hell aHHH

“okay” abby smiles and gives you back your stuff and runs off to her room to get ready for school. 

he walks over to you and sits down on the couch, “im sorry for falling asleep-”

you sit next to him and place your hand on his arm and smile, “its fine, mike, really. your sister is lovely”

mike looks up from your hand and looks at your face. he looks sleepy and gorgeous and you look gorgeous to him and your eyes are so kind and theres a moment. some sort of magnetic force kinda pulls your faces closer together.

“im gonna be late!” says abby running into the room.

mike drops abby to school and you stay in his house, waiting for the mechanic to eventually call you back like he says he will. you feel a little awkward sitting on his couch watching tv but you have nothing better to do.

he comes back he offers you a shower and some of his clothes as he feels bad for you having to sit in work clothes. 

the way his heart feels when he see’s you walk out to the bathroom and back to the couch next to him wearing one of his sweatshirts and a pair of his joggers as well hMMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmm (too early for love?)

he smells good

you must both drop off to sleep, as a few hours later mike opens his eyes for a minute to the TV showing some drama show, and then he notices a heavy feeling on his chest. there you are, passed out, in his clothes, head on his chest peacefully asleep. 

this is something he’s never felt before !1!!1 

he blushes (thank god you’re asleep) and brushes a hair out of your face, staring down at your sleeping face (uh oh someones in love) before grabbing the worn blanket from behind him and throwing it over your exposed legs.

you stirr a little, your arm wrapping around his lower half and he's so flustered and sleepy and aHHHH

he wraps his arm around your shoulders gently and passes out again (PART 2??)

[fic-dumpster]

OMG imagine this all of bonten doing the slim pickings trend if you don’t know what that is it’s basically a guy lifting a girl (normally that’s I’ll I’ve seen of this trend sorry!)

On this shoulder and flexing that basically that they can carry their girl on their shoulder 😭😩🤤

Anyways I just imagine ❤️ Kakucho ❤️ lifting us then like all of bonten wants to prove they can do it too 🫡 ugh it hurts to even think about 😖

anyways just random thought sorry it’s so long I think I had a heart attack when I thought of this

have a good day/night pookie 💋😘🙈

Anonie, idk if I got you but I’ll see what Bonten does. LET ME TELL YOU THAT I SUFFERED /J. AHSJSKS I DONT KNOW TIKTOK JAHSKSQ IM SORRY Gosh… I can’t write serious or wholesome stuff 🤧 it’s always me and my broken sense of humor.

Slim Pickings || Bonten x Reader 1.9k+ words

cw: body image, TikTok trend, nonsense, cringe… like hundred percent logging off-phone throwing-gagging worthy cringe. constant state of chaos. not edited.

“What are you two doing?” The question came from Takeomi who just stepped into your living room to see Kakucho with you sitting on his shoulder, parading you around as both laughed and smiled.

“A TikTok trend,” you answered casually.

But before Takeomi could ask more questions, the rest of Bonten began to pop into the room.

“it’s rude to stand in the entrance,” Sanzu intentionally bumped shoulders with Takeomi. Which only gained him a tired sigh from the older man.

“We heard music!” Rindou pointed out, casually strolling in.

“And your laughter,” Ran added, walking behind him brother.

After Bonten’s three menaces made their way in, silently Mikey accompanied by Kokonoi and Mochi decided to join the crowd. The shorter man curiously peeked at your form perched on his number three..

Questions began to rain on you once they saw your phone propped up on the table with more than one video of Kakucho lifting you.

“So you just lift me and place me on your shoulders,” you explained in detail to the group of men staring at your phone screen. “Yeah, like that. See?”

“We do that on a daily basis,” pointed out Ran, not really getting where this was going.

“Yeah, we see Rindou flexing his biceps at least four times a day.” Added Sanzu, snickering with his phone out scrolling through some other videos and seeing a bunch of guys just showing off.

“This shit’s easy,” huffed Rindou, ignoring the previous comment but at the same time watching Sanzu’s screen over his shoulder.

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem, right?” You rolled your eyes at the lack of initiative on their part. Although, you could guess jealousy had a part in that. They seemed bitter that your attention was solely on Kakucho.

You couldn’t have been more wrong with your statement. Bonten was not made for TikTok fame… but you didn’t know it at that time.

─────── · · ·

To see who went first they decided to draw straws… online…

You stood with Kakucho there waiting until everyone got their phones out and went to the page Rindou had shared. Lifting an eyebrow, you saw they had taken this more seriously than you had expected. Oh, yeah… they had banned Kakucho from this round.

Then you heard a groan and a bunch of hyenas laughing. First one to go? it was Kokono… and things didn’t go as planned.

“Okay, ready?” You asked a bit worried since he didn’t seem too eager to be on camera.

“Why do I have to go first?” Koko’s voice cracked a bit at the end, “you’re not posting this, right?”

A bunch of boos from the public followed Koko’s question, and by the public you mean Rindou, Ran and Sanzu. You tried to reassure him it would be alright but the damage to his pride was already done.

Once Koko’s hands were on your hips something in your gut told you that doom was imminent. He had lifted you with ease but as soon as your butt hit his shoulder, the man let out a loud whine. Somehow—someway, your zipper had gotten stuck on his silver hair. Thus, pulling it as he moved you.

“Ah! My hair! My hair!!” Koko’s desperate screams just got most of the group cracking up.

“Oh shut— ack!” You tried to stay as calm as possible, “I’m sorry!” Your eyes turned to the snickering bunch. “It’s not funny!” You held onto Koko’s head for dear life as Rindou and Sanzu avoided your gaze. The latter turned around to keep chuckling.

With his second sigh of the day, Takeomi walked towards you two, pulling Kakucho along.

“How is that this always happens to you two,” Takeomi said, trying to untangle your zipper from Koko’s hair as Kakucho steadied you on the silver-haired man’s shoulder.

After all was done, Kokonoi sat begrudgingly on the furthest sofa with a side of his long silver hair tangled in a thick mass. You smiled apologetically at him.

─────── · · ·

With a triumphant look, Rindou stood ready.

He was feeling confident after Kokonoi’s failure, but he might have gone a bit too hard… the moment he lifted you off the floor, you went flying towards the hanging lights. Thus, hitting you in the back of your head.

Everyone panicked meanwhile Mochi went for an ice pack.

It was chaos, as always—Kakucho to the rescue, he snatched you straight away from Rindou’s shoulder just in time to see Sanzu tackling the youngest Haitani. Then Ran and Takeomi began to scold the pair scuffling on the floor.

Even Mikey joined in, silently hitting Rindou in the same spot that the lamp had smacked you. Bonten’s leader walked away and kept mumbling words about how careless one could be. “An eye for an eye, Haitani.”

Just then, Mochi had walked back in to the room with an ice pack, but seeing the current situation he handed Takeomi the ice pack and went back to get a couple more.

─────── · · ·

After a prolonged discussion about safety, you suggested continuing outside which would have been fine if two people hadn’t begged you for a favor.

Ran was already smirking at you, ready to hoist you up and show the two previous failures how it was done.

And he did just that. At the count of three, you were already sitting on Ran’s shoulder. His grip was unwavering and the biggest shit-eating grin he could muster.

“Why do you always make it weird…” you mumbled once you saw Rindou visibly upset at his loss in this match.

“It’s not, though.” Ran pretended to flick a lint off his shirt, looking straight at the camera now.

It’s then that you remember the words from a certain pair—a pink and a silver head already signaling for you to take action. To keep the peace, both Haitani had to fail… miserably…

So with a deep breath, you loudly shouted something you knew Ran wouldn’t ignore. “Is that a bald spot?!” You even put a finger on his scalp to emphasize.

It happened so fast. One second you were in the air and the next you had been set down on the grass and the oldest Haitani went running to the nearest bathroom, Rindou not far behind. Not a words came out of anyone’s mouth. Meanwhile Sanzu and Koko gave you a thumbs up.

The peace had been kept. Your TikTok project began to feel more complicated than you thought it would be.

─────── · · ·

Nobody was worried about Mikey, they all knew he could easily pick you up, but Mother Nature had other plans.

“Stop laughing,” you grumbled, “it’s not that funny.”

“I’m sorry, sweetcheeks… it is…” Sanzu wheezed almost out of breath from laughing the whole day. “Mikey went straight for your pussy!”

Yes, when it was Mikey’s turn he had almost dropped you because a bee flew to his face and to his credit, he did catch you just as quick but the death-like grip went to your crotch. Which had you squealing and the clowns around you couldn’t stop laughing since then. Even Mochi and Takeomi had chuckled at the whole show.

“Haru, shut up!” You hissed, “Look! He’s sulking already!” At the sight of a brooding Mikey, everyone just went quiet. That sobered Snazu up real quick.

The Haitani brothers had just come back outside, but seeing the grey clouds on everyone’s heads they decided to slowly and carefully go back inside.

With Mikey not being in the mood anymore, the TikTok filming had to stop. Mochi and Sanzu were sad to not get a chance to try.

“Another day,” you weakly replied.

Takeomi felt a sense of relief. He wasn’t sure his back would agree today. He had lifted you before, but it was a gamble and with how everyone’s luck had been today? He didn’t wanna risk it.

─────── · · ·

Later that day, everyone was just sitting around the living room, back to where it all began. It was as normal as it could possibly get.

Most of them were on their phones, although you suspected some of them had the early videos on repeat. Sanzu and kept showing Mochi something and both just kept chuckling. Kokonoi kept checking something about the stock market and grumbling at his screen, angrily typing nonstop. Takeomi was doing the newspaper crossword puzzle and kept asking Ran some of the modern-day stuff he didn’t get. Kakucho had been in the kitchen for a while, and finally, Rindou and Mikey playing thumb fights.

Normalcy… how unusual.

“It’s actually nice… you know?” You interrupted the abnormal calmness surrounding you. “I’m in no way a flimsy thing and you all always move me around like I weigh nothing,” you voiced out your thoughts. You were laying on the couch, just thinking, truth spilling without meaning to, but alas it was out.

“The hell you mean?” Sanzu instantly snapped, throwing his phone to Mochizuki who barely had time to catch it. Bonten’s number two walked up to your resting spot and climbed on top of you. “I hope you don’t mean what I think you mean.”

“Haru…” Your wide eyes stared up at Sanzu, pink hair falling like curtains around your face.

His visceral reaction was like the spark that ignited the rest. Soon you heard the scraping sound of chairs being pulled. The lonely couch was now crowded with a bunch of angry men.

“Move,” Rindou growled as he pulled Sanzu away from you, almost throwing him off the couch. “What do you mean by that?” Now it was the youngest Haitani staring down at you with furrowed brows, and questioning your early statement. “Earlier? I almost sent you to a different fucking orbit.”

They all in their own way tried to make you understand—see what they see.

“Even Koko here can pick you up!” Ran added.

“Yeah,” Koko agreed but then realized the implications, “wait what are you trying to say?!”

Ah, this was more…normal… you giggled at the chaos that erupted around you. From the kitchen walked out Kakucho with a fresh baked bowl of cookies. Mikey didn’t have to be told twice, from the smell alone he knew what it was and took some for himself.

“Heard the commotion,” Kakucho sat next to your head on the couch, “how many times do we have to tell you that’s not important? You see us complain? No, right?” he didn’t let you answer as a cookie was already stuffed in your mouth.

“You have to see us fight to get even a second longer with you. That should tell you how much we want you,” Takeomi noted, pointing towards the Haitanis going against Sanzu and Koko a couple of feet away.

“This is why social media is hazardous,” Mochi announced, holding a cookie between his fingers.

“Body imag—” began Takeomi but he was cut short.

“It’s nothing. You’re just old.” Sanzu rebuked, interrupting his older brother just to spite him. forgotten was Rinodu who went to back up Ran.

The Akashi brothers continued on their intense debate, Mochi adding his opinion here and there as Kakucho kept feeding you and Mikey cookies.

[delulujuls]

tinder buddies | ln4

hi! i have no idea how to comment on that. i've got inspiration from the rumors that are now going on twitter and tiktok about lando and his activity in sm and i thought man, i need to write something in this narrative because sexting with him??? scuse me??? but of course all of this is fiction and and i dont have any statement on the rumors about lan, mostly because all of these are rumors and not facts. anyway, pls leave his poor papaya ass alone and enjoy this instead!

summary: when you met your tinder buddy irl and realize how indeed world is small

warnings: masturbation on cam (both male and female), bit of swearing, in general alott of sexual tention

pairing: fem!journalist!reader x lando norris

Y/N thought that she was good at what she was doing. She thought that despite her young age she fit in the world of motorsport really well. Sometimes it even crossed her mind that she was no different from her older colleagues, what's more, sometimes she even thought that she was better than them. However, she admitted this only to herself with complete modesty and behind tightly closed doors.

Apart from the fact that Y/N was a really good journalist whose career was growing at a surprising pace, at the end of the day she was just a twenty-two-year-old girl who, like many other twenty-two-year-old girls in the world, had her smaller and bigger sins.

Y/N breathed heavily as she entered her hotel room. She set her suitcase and bag aside, taking off her shoes and plopping down on the bed. It was well after midnight, her flight was delayed by several hours and she was simply exhausted by the passing day. Even though she was excited about the events that awaited her in a few hours, right now she was just tired. However, she knew perfectly well what would help her relax before going to sleep. Not so much what, but who.

The girl unlocked her phone and easily found the Instagram icon, clicking on it and going straight to the messages. She entered the first conversation and was about to write some prosaic message, but she didn't have time to type out half of the sentence when a new message appeared in the chat.

"u up?"

Y/N smiled to herself. It looked like she could count on a pleasant end to the day.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing"

The reply message appeared a moment later.

"i was waiting for you to be available. i thought the evening would be wasted"

"And yet you see, surprise"

The person on the other end smiled and untied the drawstring on his sweatpants. He quickly wrote his answer with one hand.

"wanna call?"

"I think you know the answer"

She smiled and reached for the switch and turned off the light, pressing the camera icon with her other hand.

Y/N and the boy she had been messaging with for a little over a month knew next to nothing about each other. She had a private account and a few photos, he had a black icon and an empty profile. He only knew her name, she only the first letter of his. They met on Tinder, their profiles there looked quite similar. She has a few photos, more of the body than the face, he has the same, mostly in black and white. They had never seen each other's faces, but they knew each other's bodies inside and out.

Y/N placed her phone on the table and leaned it against the lamp, which she turned on a moment later. The light from it was dim, but it illuminated her body enough. The angle her phone was at only showed her from the neck down. She was perfect at maintaining her privacy.

"New background?"

He asked, seeing that the surroundings behind her were different from those he had seen before. She pulled her sweatshirt over her head, leaving her in only a bra and a thin t-shirt.

"I'm away from home"

"Work?"

"Too many questions"

There was quiet laughter on the other side. He liked her temperament. He liked her curves even more and the sounds she made when, at his command, she pushed her fingers inside her and brought herself to orgasm. Yes, he liked that too.

"Yeah, you're right. Strip."

Y/N pulled the t-shirt over her head and her interlocutor saw a red, lace bra that he never seen on her before. He smiled and ran his hand over his crotch. He felt a chill run through him.

"You look good, baby. Red suits you"

She laughed and pushed her hair behind her shoulders.

"Is this the first time you gonna tell me to keep my bra on?"

"For now, yes. I'd love to look at it for a while" he squeezed his cock and began to lightly massage it through the fabric. "You know what to do, dont'cha?"

Y/N bit her lip and lifted her hands, placing them gently on her shoulders. She slowly moved them down her body and when she found her breasts, she slowly started massaging them in circular motions. She closed her eyes and tilted her head slightly, hearing the sigh that came from her phone. He watched her carefully, following her every move.

"Take it off," he said after a while, "It's pretty, but I think I prefer you without it."

She quickly took off her bra and threw it aside. He smiled at the sight of her breasts. Y/N returned to them, continuing their massage. As she lightly pinched her nipples, she moaned softly. His cock vibrated at the sound that came from his headphones. He smiled.

"Does it feel good, baby?"

"Mhm, yeah" she answered, looking again at her phone "But you're playing unfair again. I have to see you too."

He chuckled and shook his head.

"You don't let me enjoy you"

He replied and put down the phone, quickly pulling his shirt over his head. He fell back on the pillows and turned on the light on his phone. Y/N smiled at the sight of the familiar, slightly tanned and toned torso. Her interlocutor didn't see it, but she smiled even more when he tightened his hand on his cock, which was now clearly visible on the gray material of his trousers.

"Take off the rest of your clothes and lie down"

He ordered. Y/N obediently lay down, taking off her pants and underwear. When the rustle of fabric could be heard on the other side, he easily freed himself from his pants and tight, slightly damp boxers. He spat on his hand and spread the saliva over his cock, feeling it tighten under his touch. Fuck, what he would give if instead of his hand it was this tiny hand that disappeared between the pair of thighs he saw on the screen of his phone.

The girl complied with his command and he saw her middle finger slowly sinking inside her, only to come out after a while covered with her juices.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, "You're so wet, baby."

“I wish you were here and licked me clean.”

Y/N said, rubbing her clit. She felt that she wouldn't need much to reach orgasm.

Her interlocutor smiled under his breath, but she wasn't able to see it.

"I'm afraid that i would make you even more wet."

"Someone has quite an ego here"

"I know my capabilities, baby."

She snorted under her breath and made herself more comfortable, inserting her finger into herself again. First one, quite slowly, and soon she added another one. A long moan filled the hotel room as she began to move them, imagining that it was not her but him who was fucking her. And not with his fingers, but with his wet, hard cock.

"Yeah, just like that, baby. Keep going."

His eyes carefully followed the screen and the activities taking place on it. His hand moved smoothly over his cock, his lips were slightly opened. As he was stroking himself, the glass of his watch on his wrist reflected the light from the phone. He wore it every time they cam together. Y/N didn't know anything about watches, so she didn't know what brand it was or whether it was expensive. They never talked about it, honestly, they basically never had a normal chat. However, he once asked her about the tattoo on her forearm, just below the inner bend of her elbow. He noticed it after the first time they met on camera. When it was all over and they were about to hang up and return to their real lives, he asked about it.

"What does 33 mean?"

He asked when the girl started getting dressed.

"What?"

"Tattoo on your arm"

The girl looked at her forearm and only then did she understand what he was asking about.

"I can't tell you because you'll make fun of me"

Hearing this, he smiled. Not because there was probably some stupid story behind it, but because the girl was concerned about not looking bad in front of him. Even though they absolutely didn't know each other.

"I barely know your name, I don't know why I would make fun of you."

Y/N was silent for a moment, glancing at her tattoo and lightly stroking it with her thumb.

"Do you know Formula 1?"

He smiled and nodded. His reaction, however, was beyond her reach.

"I know a thing or two"

"My favorite driver drives with this number. Well, actually he did, now his number is 1. But for me it will still be associated with 33"

The girl explained. She felt a bit embarrassed to expose herself to him, especially with something like this. However, he did not laugh at her or comment on her confession in any negative way.

"I have a friend who is also involved in motorsport and has the same number. Actually, not anymore, because he also had to change it. But for me it will also be associated only with 33"

Y/N smiled at his words. Sometimes she wondered if they could become friends and get to know each other a little better. But then she decided to come down to earth and remind herself that she had no time for relationships or friendships. Now the most important thing for her is work and career, everything else can wait. After all, no one will satisfy her as much as herself. Right?

"Fuck, I could fill you so good, baby," he moaned, gasping for breath. He felt that he was only seconds away from orgasm "You have no idea how much pleasure I would give you."

The girl's lips were opened, her eyelids were shut tightly. She massaged her clit with her left hand and moved the fingers of her right hand inside her in quick, uneven movements.

"I'm about to- I…oh my god-"

“Yes, baby, thats it" he gasped, speeding up "Cum for me.”

She felt a wave of pleasure wash over her. The moment her back arched, she heard a long "fuck" coming from her phone. He came shortly after her, staining his toned abs with his sperm. He squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his head back, trying to calm his breathing. There was silence on both sides for a moment, neither of them moving an inch.

After some time, Y/N sat on the bed and reached for a tissue, wiping her hands on it.

"I have to go now. I have a lot of work waiting for me tomorrow."

"Me too. I wanted to let you know that we may not be able to have a call tomorrow."

He answered, also wiping himself.

“It's okay, no big deal,” Y/N replied and took one last look at the muscled, tanned torso visible on her phone screen, “Good night. And good luck with your chores tomorrow.”

“Good night, baby. You too.”

She smiled and reached for her phone, ending the call. Exhausted from the previous day and the evening cam session, she just buried herself in the blanket and shortly after fell asleep. The next day, when her alarm went off, she was full of energy despite several hours of sleep. She couldn't wait for saturday's qualifying and all she was thinking about as she was getting ready was whether she would be able to get good material.

As she put on her red bra, she smiled involuntarily as she remembered last night. She wondered if he had already gotten lost in the whirlwind of his today's duties. Y/N quickly got dressed, gathered her things and, putting her pass around her neck, left the hotel. When she got to the track and was in the paddock, she couldn't think about anything else. Her only thoughts revolved around what was going to happen on the track in a few dozen minutes. However, for a split second she wondered what her tinder buddy actually knew about Formula 1. Maybe they could have something to talk about? Maybe she could even take him to some grand prix?

Her thoughts disappeared when she noticed Lando Norris hanging around the McLaren garage. The girl asked the cameraman to prepare the equipment and she would ask the Brit if he would be willing to have a short conversation. She squeezed the microphone in her hand and without thinking, she approached him, introducing herself and asking if it was possible to record a short conversation.

Hearing her name, his heart did a flip. He knew that name very well.

"Sure, no problem"

He replied with a smile, obviously not revealing himself, and ran his hand through his hair. The glass of the watch strapped to his wrist gleamed in the sunlight. Y/N had seen this watch before. Many times.

The girl smiled back and, hearing his agreement, gave a thumbs up to the cameraman. When she raised her hand, the sleeve of her shirt rolled up, and Lando's eyes involuntarily caught the tattoo on her forearm. A slight 33, just below the bend in the elbow.

He felt a sudden wave of heat wash over him. It's a coincidence, right? It must be.

"How's your mood before qualifying?"

Y/N asked, putting the microphone down and straightening her shirt. As she was arranging her collar, Lando's eyes caught a glimpse of her red bra strap. He smiled to himself and looked down. He wondered how many accidents and coincidences had come together in the universe and resulted in this situation.

"What? Something wrong?"

The girl asked, not knowing what made him react like that.

He shook his head and after a moment looked up again. He looked at the girl carefully. However, she was completely lost and looked at him questioningly.

"Sorry, as you can probably see, my mood is great. I'm positive about today's qualifying."

Y/N tentatively gripped her microphone. When the cameraman approached them, they started recording the footage and she had no time to analyze Lando's strange behavior. In fact, it was possible that this was their first and last conversation ever, so why should she care about it. When they managed to record a short material, Y/N thanked him and wished him successful qualifications. After that everyone went their separate ways.

Immediately after entering the garage, Lando found his phone buried in a pile of his things. He quickly entered his latest conversation on Instagram and, without thinking, decided to send the girl a message. Worst case scenario, he'll just make a fool of himself, which isn't a big deal since they don't know each other at all. At best, he would spend tonight as he had long dreamed of.

"ure even prettier than i thought, baby."

Y/N felt a vibration in her pants pocket and without thinking, she unlocked her phone. She was surprised to see a notification coming from Instagram, and she was even more surprised when she noticed who sent her the message. After reading it, she felt a cold sweat break out on her. However, she decided to think and act soberly.

"How do you know what I look like?"

"turn around"

Lando replied quickly and leaned against the threshold of his garage. The girl clutched her phone in her hands and obeyed his command with her heart beating wildly. Lando smiled at her, holding his still unlocked phone. Y/N felt a lack of saliva in her mouth. It's impossible, it's not really happening.

"Are you sure we're looking at the same person?"

She replied, having difficulty pressing the appropriate keys with her fingers. He was amused by her reaction. This whole situation didn't make sense to him. It was crazy.

"im looking at a pretty neat journalist with a mad bunda who has a tattoo with my friend's racing number. and u?"

Y/N blushed. Fuck. It's him.

"I see that your jumpsuit is a little tight in some places."

Lando snorted under his breath. The girl wasn't lying. The whole situation made quite an impression on him.

Y/N bit her lip and looked up. She'd be lying if she said it wasn't arousing.

"u know exactly why its tight"

"I guess I have to find out in real life. The camera likes to lie."

When she sent the message, she looked up again and their eyes locked. The Brit winked at her and quickly replied, turning on his heel and disappearing into the depths of the garage.

"my driver's room in five minutes. ill be happy to dispel your doubts"

[love44lew]

((At least for the pictures))

彡drivers needy!max verstappen

彡genre drabble

彡summary maxie wants a just kiss :((

彡notes i lowkey forgot i made this but its here now!! i have a series of drabbles while you wait for my smut scenarios xp

————————-🦈-————————

Pinterest is the go to to find makeup looks. its like being a kid in a candy store, theres always so many things to choose from. today though, you scrolled through your saves and decided on a red and brown combo.

you made the rest of your face match it by applying a redder tinted blush and added some beauty marks just for fun. max walked in as you did your makeup.

“whatcha doing love?” he creeped up behind you and snaked his arms around your waist, planting a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“i’m just doing my makeup maxie,” you glanced at him through the mirror “are you done getting ready?” max nodded

“i just came for my cologne and to see what you were doing.” he reached over and grabbed his bottle of versace that you had got him for valentines day. “you look amazing” he glanced you up and down, keeping a hand on your lower back. “hey! dont spray that too close to me i dont wanna smell like man..” you scooted away which caused max to pull you back into his arms. “you’re not just gonna smell like man, you’re gonna smell like your man, which is better.” he smirked

“okay but i wanted to try my new perfume” you frowned

“oh dont be sad at least you smell good now” he leaned in to kiss your cheek which you pushed him away.

“wait!! i haven’t put my setting spray yet” max frowned as he took a step back. “so i cant kiss you now?”

“i never said that baby i just did my makeup” you doused your face in spray before turning to him while fanning your face. you cupped his cheek with your free hand “let me have this for at least the pictures, and then you can kiss me and fuck up my makeup all you want,” maxs eyes trailed down to the side, his lips still pouty. “can you do that for me?” you softened your voice. he hesitated, still being his pouty stubborn self.

“please” you tilted your head to the side, catching his gaze with your own. max’s deep blue eyes staring back into yours as he slightly nodded and kissed your hand. his kisses trailed down your forearm before he pulled you in and kissed your shoulder. “i can do that” he showed a half smile.

the car door opened and immediately you were hit hit with hundreds of camera flashes into the car trying to capture your every move. max got out before you and took your hand in his as he helped you exit the vehicle. the flashes increased when you exited, especially because you might be just a little more famous than max. you held onto his hand as he guided you past all the paparazzi. right before you entered the building, you posed for the pictures and pulled max in to join you which he gave his cute little awkward smile to the cameras.

the night went on and max waited ‘patiently’. more like he kept asking if he could kiss you which you rejected. finally you took some shots which messed up your lips. max wasn’t looking so you came up behind him and kissed his neck and cheek which caught him by surprise. caught your lips in his plump ones as you stepped in front of him and sat on his lap for better access. you wrapped your arms around his nape as his hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer. he sighed into his long awaited kiss.

[nadvs]

cam girl (part four)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

» masterlist

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

You don’t know how you got through the rest of your housekeeping shift after being with Rafe. You don’t even know how you got through the rest of the day.

He still wants you to host private sessions for him, still wants to pay to watch you do things to yourself. So here you are, obeying him as usual, sitting on your bed, in front of your laptop, dressed in white lingerie and aching for a release.

figure8 has joined the session.

figure8: hi princess

“Don’t ‘hi, princess’ me, Rafe,” you say. “You have any idea how I feel right now?”

You’re still so pent up from how be denied you an orgasm earlier that day. After work, you tried to study, but you were so distractedly horny.

Still, you listened to his instructions not to give yourself the release you needed until you were on camera with him tonight. And even through the frustrating anticipation, knowing your next orgasm has his name on it, knowing he wants to dominate you like this, is so gratifying.

figure8: someone’s grumpy

figure8 tipped you $500.

figure8: feel better?

You stifle your smirk.

“Can I open this yet?” you ask, holding the box he gave you, still sealed.

figure8: you dont have to hide your face anymore

You instinctually arranged yourself how you always did when you set up your camera, but you realize he’s right. He’s seen your face already. He’s seen everything already.

You reposition to show all of you on the screen, viewing the mirror image, the pout on your face apparent.

figure8: my pretty girl. i cant stop thinking about how your face looked covered in my cum today

You can’t control your smile at his message. Shit. You were supposed to be mad at him.

“Speaking of cumming…” you say slyly. “When can I?” Your confidence is always so high, your attitude so ballsy when you’re on cam.

It’s like the real you comes out, no inhibitions whatsoever. You still can’t believe how speechless he had you in his bedroom earlier today, but you know the next time you see him in person, you’ll be able to talk to him the way you always do on during your video sessions.

figure8: open the box

You sigh a breath of relief, pulling off the pink bow and taking off the cover. On a bed of white silk lays a small, pink c-shaped sex toy. You turn it over in your hands, trying to see how it works. The chat chimes.

figure8: you look so cute trying to figure it out

“Stop teasing me,” you tell him.

figure8: no

You continue to study the item Rafe bought you, slowly understanding what part is supposed to go inside of you and what part is supposed to go against your clit.

But there aren’t any buttons.

“How does this work, baby?” you ask, your frustration dissolving as curiosity takes over.

figure8: ready?

Seconds later, you feel the toy buzz in your hands.

“Are you… controlling this?” you ask, amused. You would have never expected Rafe to be so kinky.

figure8: get naked and put it in your pussy

Eagerly, you strip off your bra and panties, spreading your legs in front of the camera like you’re straddling your laptop.

figure8: wait

You sit with your legs spread, feeling your eyebrows furrow. He’s making you wait again?

figure8: just want to look at that sweet pussy again. you tasted so good

You think back to Rafe’s head between your legs earlier that day, the way his mouth lapped and fluttered over your folds.

You can see on the screen that you have small marks on the inside of your thighs. He left hickies on you with all his teasing. He put marks on you, like he promised he would.

“You like when I do this, don’t you?” you ask, pulling your pussy lips apart.

figure8: i’m hard as fuck

“Yeah?” you coo. “You ate me out so nice today. Hopefully next time you’ll let me finish.”

figure8: so desperate for me

You put your hand at your center, rubbing right where you’re throbbing to at least ease the pain just a bit.

“Can I use the toy, baby?” you try to sweet-talk him.

figure8: go ahead. put it in and stay sitting just like that

You pick up the silicone toy, sliding the bottom part into your hole and shuddering. The top curve rests against your clit and you sit back, hands behind you as you support yourself.

figure8: i love seeing that cunt full

“When is it going to be full with your dick?”

figure8: when i say so

You sigh and grind your hips forward. The toy gently buzzes inside of you and you dip your head back, a choked moan spilling out of your lips.

The vibrations are rhythmic and far apart, but at least you’re finally getting some stimulation.

The other part of the vibrator starts moving, suctioning over your clit. The sensation of both ends working you, of knowing Rafe is controlling it on the other side of town, lying in his bed and watching you with his hard dick in his hand, adds to how hot all of this is.

You arch your back as the toy buzzes and sucks and you start to roll your hips.

The chat chimes.

figure8: keep your eyes on the screen so u can see how pretty u look when you’re moaning

“Okay,” you obey breathlessly. You watch yourself on the screen, tits out, pussy squeezing around the toy Rafe bought you.

He keeps the same low setting on for a few minutes and you softly moan through the sensations. He knows this isn’t enough to make you cum but you don’t want to whine.

figure8: ready for more?

“Please,” you plead. The buzzing in you grows stronger, your walls clenching around the toy. “Shit, Rafe.”

figure8: feels good?

“So good,” you sighed. “So fucking good.”

figure8: play with your tits for me, princess

You sit up, putting your hands over your chest, fondling your breasts. You pinch your nipples and rub your fingers over them.

figure8: my good girl

The vibrator’s buzzing gets even more intense and you squeeze your legs together to get the most out of it.

The toy immediately stops moving.

“Rafe,” you groan.

figure8: you didn’t listen

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” you shudder. You spread your legs for him again and look at the screen at your own desperate expression. Thankfully, you feel the toy move again, but it’s at the low setting you started at.

You won’t complain. He’ll delay the orgasm even more.

Eventually, you’re at the second level again and you quiver at how good it feels.

“Can we go a little faster? Please?” you purr, the knot inside you tightening.

figure8: god i thought i could do this but i can’t. where are you. i need to fuck you

The message makes your stomach flutter with butterflies. The thought of him pounding into you on your bed, of you not having to make yourself cum with your hand or a toy, thrills you.

“Now who’s impatient?” you ask with a smirk.

figure8: whats the address

“Let me just type it out for you,” you say slowly, enjoying this small window of control you’re in.

You type it out in seconds, but keep your hands over the keyboard before sending it to purposely make him wait, tits squeezed together up to the camera for him to see.

He only messages your name and you laugh at his neediness. Then a second message comes in.

figure8: you’ll pay for this

“Scary,” you mock. In reality, you’re really excited to see what punishment looks like to him. You finally hit the enter key.

figure8 tipped you $1000.

Rafe leaves the chat.

The fact that he still paid you is a pleasant surprise. In just a few days, you’ve fattened up your bank account quite nicely just from pleasuring yourself for him.

There’s a knock at your apartment door after what feels like an eternity. You open it a few inches, peeking out to see Rafe, and you shield yourself with the door as you open it to avoid anyone else in the hallway possibly seeing you nearly naked.

You figured there was no reason getting fully dressed, only putting your panties on.

With how much he loves to tell you he owns you, you’re sure Rafe wouldn’t take it well if a neighbor accidentally saw you exposed. He won’t even allow you to cam for other guys anymore.

You lock the door, leaning back on it with your arms crossed.

He towers over you, his presence so damn demanding in your tiny apartment. Your whole place would fit in his bedroom. He probably hasn’t ever been inside a home this small.

His eyes are fixed on your tits, the burning in his eyes giving you a warm sense of satisfaction.

“What was it that made you need to come fuck me yourself?” you ask with a smirk.

Maybe it’s because you’re in your own home, but now you have the confidence to tease him how you always do on cam, the shock of him knowing who you were during your sessions now worn off.

Rafe’s clearly amused, closing the distance between you, placing a hand up on the door as he dips his head to look down at you.

“You’re acting like you weren’t just asking when you can get my dick inside you,” he says, voice deep and dripping with desire. His lips curl into a smile, his perfect teeth peeking behind them.

Your fingers feverishly find the hem of his t-shirt and you start to pull it up, hungry to see him naked again.

“Can’t wait for it, can you?” Rafe asks, standing straight and bunching the fabric between his shoulder blades, pulling the shirt off for you and dropping it.

“I’m not the one who just drove all the way over here to fuck,” you taunt. Your eyes fall down his toned chest, the ridges of his abs. “And I’m needy?”

You love this back-and-forth power struggle with him. It’s like a game, a competition to see which one of you is more desperate for the other.

And honestly, it feels a little like payback for the orgasm he denied you today.

He brings his hands up your sides, sliding up to your tits, putting his cool palms on your chest and squeezing and fondling in a way that makes you sigh with pleasure.

“I have to fuck that attitude out of you,” he huffs. You giggle at his words, feeling your core pulse with desire.

Before you started anything with him, you thought Rafe was just another privileged, entitled asshole who’s painfully hot and knows it. But you’re actually having fun with him, teasing each other like this.

Your hands wander over his hard chest, smoothing over his worked out pecs.

“You can try,” you retort. He leans down and locks his lips on yours. His body curls up against you, your back pressed against the door as he grinds against you, his cock hard.

His hands cup your ass and he suddenly hikes you up. You wrap your arms and legs around him, your damp panties pressed against his hard stomach.

You dip your head into the crook of his neck and he smells like expensive cologne and salty sweat and man, making the tension coil inside you even tighter.

“Show me where you fuck yourself for me every night,” he orders, breath hot against your ear.

You pull back to meet his eyes, looking down at him through heavy lids. You wordlessly motion to the open door into your bedroom.

Rafe carries you through your apartment and lowers you onto your bed, hovering over you as he continues to kiss you roughly, tongue tumbling with yours. He traps your bottom lip between his teeth, the twinge of pain mixing so well with the pleasure.

You feel his hand rest on your pussy and your nerves are on fire.

“This is mine,” he rasps against your lips.

“Yours,” you say.

He rubs over your panties in broad circles, dipping his head down to your collarbone, tongue slowly darting out as he sucks. You’re sure he’ll leave another hickey on you.

You feel him press his finger over your hole, nudging the fabric of your panties against you.

You’ve officially lost all your patience.

“Please fuck me,” you say. You’re not even being needy because he likes it - you are fully desperate. “I’ll beg as much as I need to, okay? Just… please. I need you so fucking bad.”

Rafe pulls away, looking down at you in the dim light of your bedroom. His smirk is so damn smug and so damn arrogant. You’re stroking his ego and he loves it.

“I told you that you’ll pay for that little game you played,” Rafe threatens.

“Rafe,” you moan, squirming below him.

“I thought you might touch yourself the second you got home… but I can tell you listened to me.”

“I did,” you reassure him. “Do whatever you want to me. Just let me cum.”

“Whatever?” he echoes, dimples taunting you. You bring your hands up to his shoulders, nails digging into the back of his neck. This is fucking torture.

“Anything, Rafe,” you promise.

“What if I want you on your knees so I can fuck that pretty mouth as hard as I want?” The thought makes you feel like you’ve entirely drenched your underwear.

“Yes, yes,” you say, nodding desperately. “Please. Anything.”

He laughs so damn pompously and degradingly, like your need for him is comical.

“It’s not funny,” you whine.

“I’d be balls deep in you right now if you didn’t fuck with me,” he tells you. You regret not just giving him your address immediately. Teasing him wasn’t worth it.

He gets up, taking his hand off your pussy and encircling your wrist, beckoning you to sit up.

“On the floor, princess,” he instructs.

You quickly settle on the rug next to your bed, knees on the floor and hands on your lap as you look up at him.

Rafe stands and unzips his jeans in front of you and pulls them down, left in gray briefs that do no work hiding the thick shape of his dick.

When he takes off his last piece of clothing, his cock bucks out, precum already leaking out the tip. You could tease him about how horny he is for you, but you know better.

He starts to slowly stroke his length.

“Eyes up,” he says. You obey and look up at him, knowing the amused, perverse way he’s gazing down at you will not soon leave your memory. You don’t want it to.

He pats his dick on your parted lips, your bottom lip quivering beneath the weight of it.

“You sucked it so good today,” Rafe taunts. “And look at you doing it again. You like this cock?”

“I love it,” you tell him.

He pinches your chin so you’ll open your mouth wider and slowly pushes himself in, his breath shaky as your mouth takes him all.

The base of his cock presses against your nose and you squeeze your fists tight, pussy aching in need. As bad as you want him inside of you, this feeling is so fucking perfect.

He puts his hands on the sides of your head, thumbs pressed on your temples.

“You’re gonna keep that pretty mouth open just like this, okay?” he instructs.

You nod, mouth full.

He pulls back, then pumps back into you. You gag and you hear him groan.

“That fucking sound…” he says.

He bucks in and out again, faster this time. You close your eyes from the pleasure of being used by him like this.

“Eyes.” His voice is husky. You meet his gaze again. “Good girl.”

Rafe’s pumps start to speed up, the tip of his dick sliding deep in your throat. His grip on your head tightens as he starts to lose himself in the feeling, his groans so damn hot that you wish you were recording this so you could play it back the next time you’re touching yourself.

But then again, it seems like Rafe has full control over when and where and how you masturbate.

He keeps fucking your face and you choke again after a deep thrust, starting to slobber on his cock. He pumps once more, deep, and you let out a strangled gag, tears forming.

He pulls out suddenly, his eyes frantically searching yours.

“Is it too much?” The concern on his face, the fact that he’s checking in on you like this, makes you realize just how wrong you were about this man. He is so much more than you thought.

Even in the eroticism of the moment, your heart feels like it flutters from Rafe’s display of care.

“No,” you tell him, wiping the spit around your mouth off with the back of your hand. “Keep going.”

He enters your mouth again and you fucking love it. The way he tastes, how hard he is, how smooth he is. It’s perfection.

Rafe returns to his fast pace, rocking in and out of your mouth, his eyes on yours the entire time. After a few more thrusts, he takes out his wet cock and puts one hand on the base of his length and the other at the back of your neck.

“You need to be fucked, don’t you, princess?” he asks.

“Please,” you whisper, anticipation bubbling inside of you. Finally, his cock will be right where you need it.

He applies pressure to the back of your neck, beckoning you to stand. On weak knees, you lift yourself up and let him guide you down onto your bed.

You lie on your back and Rafe leans down to slide his fingers under the band of your panties. You put your legs together so he can slide them down and off of you.

The mattress sinks as he bows to lie over you, his hands on the bed at either side of your head. You gaze up at him, the planes of his cheeks, the slope of his nose.

“You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?” Rafe rasps.

You’re thinking the same thing about him, but you’re so starved that you can’t say a single word.

Your cunt is dripping and goosebumps spread across every inch of your naked body. And you’ve never been happier that you’re on the pill, so you can feel him fuck you without a barrier.

One of his hands dip low to guide himself into you and you swear that you can see stars once you feel his tip nudge against your opening.

You shut your eyes and hear his sharp intake of breath as he enters you fully.

“God,” you shudder, the weakness in your voice shocking you. Nobody has ever had this effect on you, felt this nice in you. “Oh, my God.”

“Shit, that’s so fucking good,” he praises, bottoming out inside of you.

It hurts a little at first. You expected it with his size. But your body adjusts quickly and you feel nothing but bliss.

You find the strength to link your legs around him tightly, trapping him, afraid he’ll tease you again.

“It’s okay, baby, I’m not going anywhere,” Rafe says with a chuckle, bending to press his lips against yours.

His weight is on you, his dick is filling you, his lips are pulling yours, and you want to stay in the moment forever.

He seems to savor the feeling of being inside of you for a moment, and then pulls back and plunges deep inside you again. You turn your head to the side, away from his mouth so you can speak.

“Harder, please,” you beg impatiently.

“We have all night,” he says. You can feel his smile against your cheek.

You let out a hopeless whimper and he seems to have a moment of sympathy, realizing just how tortuously he’s been teasing you.

Rafe pulls back then rocks back into you harder, jolting your body with pleasure. The bed starts to squeak as he rolls his hips, thrusting in and out of you.

You groan, hooking your arms around him, hands pressed on his shoulders. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, his breath hot on you.

His muscles flex under your palms as he jerks his fat cock into you, rubbing against your walls, reaching deep inside you.

“You like that?” he whispers, his hot breath pressing on your neck.

“You fill me up so nice,” you moan. “Fuck, Rafe.”

“This pussy is so fucking perfect,” he says.

He straightens, holding himself up with locked arms, gazing at you with heavy lids, looking drunk off the feeling of fucking you. Your tits bob up and down with his rough movements, your chest heaving.

“Play with yourself,” he tells you. “You deserve to cum nice and hard, princess.”

You smile gratefully and immediately circle your clit with your fingers, the sensation mind-blowing. Rafe continues to pump in and out hard, looking down as you touch yourself, getting a private show out of you even in person.

He watches you in what you can only describe is awe, and dips his long forefinger inside your mouth. You wrap your lips around his finger, sucking on it as he thrashes into you.

You feel yourself inching closer to your peak. You shut your eyes and arch your back, lips parting as you pant with each thrust.

A million fireworks explode inside of you when you finally cum. You clench around Rafe and feel him go even harder when his hot liquid pools into you.

He’s breathing just as hard as you are when he slowly pulls out. You hate the feeling of him leaving your body.

He collapses beside you, both of you looking up at the ceiling as you come down from the high.

You could pass out in seconds and you figure Rafe is not the kind of guy that cuddles. But because of the rough neighborhood you live in, you need to make sure the door’s locked behind him.

Before you can figure out how to ask him if he wants to stay, knowing he’ll say no, you hear a dreadful rattle.

“Fuck,” you groan.

“What was that?” Rafe asks.

“My heat just broke again,” you say. “The radiator is shit.”

You mentally go through the catalogue of what you need to do - find your extra blankets, bring out the space heater, keep trying to turn on the radiator even though you know it’s pointless.

“Again?”

“My landlord’s an ass. He’s supposed to fix it but never actually does.”

“So… what?”

“What do you mean?” you turn to look at Rafe, the soft lighting in your room casting shadows on his pretty face.

“What do you do now?”

“Bundle up,” you say with a defeated chuckle. “It usually starts working again in a few days.”

“Don’t you… can’t you call someone?” he asks. What a rich person thing to say. Call someone. The answer to everything.

“It’s too expensive,” you say. “And it’s not even on me. My landlord’s supposed to do it.”

“It’s, like, thirty degrees outside.” You’re not sure if he’s teasing or laughing at you right now, but you can’t take it. He can berate you all he wants sexually, mocking how much you want him, but your financial situation isn’t on the table.

“I know you love to give me shit, but don’t… not over this, okay?” you say.

Rafe nods quickly. You’re not sure if this means he was about to mess with you about it but won’t, or if it means he wouldn’t taunt you about it in the first place.

“How much would it cost? To fix?” he asks.

“I had someone come look at it a while ago and it cost $200 just for him to tell me it’s a $3000 fix since it’s such an old system.”

“That’s nothing,” he says.

At this point, you have to laugh. He is so fucking out of touch.

“Rafe, how much do you think I make cleaning your house?” you ask. You hope you don’t have to spell it out for him. You’re a maid. For fuck’s sake, you started to get naked for strangers online to make extra money. You’re clearly not in a great spot financially.

And sure, his tips are helping to cover bills, but you still have tuition and loans and rent to worry about.

Rafe doesn’t say anything. He just looks back up at the ceiling, giving you a chance to gaze at his profile.

This man doesn’t know how good he has it. He’s never had to worry about the cost of home repairs. Or rent. Or bills.

You knew Rafe was from a different world. For fuck’s sake, you cleaned his mansion twice a week - you saw the life he lived. But this makes you see just how far removed he is from what life is like for somebody like you.

“You gonna get on camera for me again tomorrow?” he finally asks. You can’t help but laugh. His mind is in the gutter. Of course. You knew not to expect much from him.

“Sure, baby,” you say. “I like that toy you got me. How do you control it?”

“On my phone,” he says. He shifts in bed, getting up, and you figure this is the end of the night.

You yawn and try to will your tired body to sit up. But Rafe lies back down, his phone in his hand. He must have taken it out of the pocket of his jeans.

He opens an app in front of you, showing the buttons on the screen that trigger different modes. If you weren’t so exhausted from how hard he fucked you, you’d probably ask to play with it right now.

You watch him close the app and tap on the green “Phone” app. He hands it to you.

“Here,” he says. “Put your number in.”

Caught off guard, you take Rafe’s phone - the newest iPhone, of course - and type in your digits. Why would he need to contact you outside of the cam website?

Probably for booty calls like these. This guy is only keeping you around to watch you on cam or fuck you. He only has one setting. Horny.

Then Rafe gets up again, and this time he’s clearly ready to leave, pulling his briefs up. You take a moment to appreciate how nice his ass is.

You wrap one of your smaller blankets around you and follow him out to your front door.

Rafe bends to pick up his shirt off the floor and you notice the logo as he pulls it on. That shirt he carelessly tossed to the ground costs the same as your rent. Probably more.

He turns to look at you, his frame large, his hand on the doorknob.

“This was fun,” he says. “Next time, I’m fucking you from behind.”

“Deal,” you say with a playful shove.

After showering and brushing your teeth, you get out the extra blankets and the loud, old space heater you keep in your closet.

You settle into bed, taking out your phone to set an alarm so you can wake up early tomorrow and get a head-start on studying.

A notification on your screen shocks you. An unknown number sent you $3000.

{ read part five here }

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

In-ho as Yandere/Obsess with You (Player) |

This is going to have two versions.

Yandere!In-ho x Fem!Player!Reader

Yandere!Detective!In-ho x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Obsessive!In-ho - Yandere - Power Imbalance - NON CANON EVENTS DOES NOT FOLLOW PLOTLINE - Suggestive parts/NSFW - Manipulation - Grammar mistakes -

Yandere!In-ho its the type of Yandere who first goes into denial over his obsession. Yes, he has read your file multiple times by now. At least ten more times than the other files. He just wants to know all about you.

No, he wont admit it out loud. He would rather pass his little free time in his room looking at the cameras he got around Seoul to keep tabs on you.

Gets angry when he first sees the video of you getting slapped during the recruit time. He may call that centrain recruiter to dispose of him.

While he sees everybody who ends at the games as nothing but low trash (yes even knowing he was part of them once) you are different to him.

You may have ended there for the most stupid reason and yet he wont mind but would feel pity over you.

Will order that the games are easier for you, that the food you get its more healthy and has more cantidad than the rest. But its subtle since he does not want the rest of the players to think you are getting special treatment (you are).

If he sees any player getting too close to you, or its informed by the guards that a centrain player has not so pure desires over you, that one is out. The next game its harder for them.

Will he joy the games to keep a closer eye ? Depends. 

Part of him likes to stay in the shadows, and enjoy the show. You are his Star during these games. The only time he moves the games so you can easily win. He hopes that you feel watched and protected, that when the times comes you will ask to stay with him. He already prepared another room till you are ready to fully move with him.

He becomes so enamored that his actions are off. While usually calculated, with you he wont waste a single time on getting the most cruel deaths for these who  go against you. A traitor? He will tell the guards to keep them alive so he can personally torture him.

The guards prays that you accept on staying with him because his mood has been down and bad the last few games and they need a rest.

There are cameras everywhere, and he uses his position to keep a close eye on you. During night one camera will point at your bed, he passes most of his night watching you. It relaxes him.

NSFW:

He also has a not so saint side, he watches you go to the bathroom to relieve some stress. These are his favorite moments. The sounds and faces you make as you try to get yourself off. He has recording that one and used it multiple times till he is out of cum.

When the games ends and you win, he does things different. Does not send you home at once but rather keeps you in a well secured room with some lame excuse, and what can you do ? This Man has an army behind him.

The Manipulation starts from him slowly getting closer to you, sharing the same interests, faking the same or similar traumatic past.

Yes, you probably resent him a lot. But he is such a good liar, snake tongue and all. That you fall for his lies, how he was forced into this and how when he saw you he could not let someone as precious as you die.

Will take advantage of how emotional drained you are. Offering his ear to listen you rant about different topics from the games to your life.

You are quiet touch starved so he uses these times of vulnerability to hold you close to his chest and caress your hair.

Does give you a bit of freedoom to go and walk around the island, but a guard its with you during all of it.

He is in fact no scared to hurt you in order to keep you by his side. But his favorite way to do it would be forcing a baby inside you. Now dont get me wrong, he WONT force himself on you. He would just casually forget to use a condom and also confuse the anticonceptive pills.

He cant wait to have you all round with his baby. Maybe this is not the best place to raise a kid, but hell does he care ? No. He can make some calls and get things sorted out.

The important part is that you wont be able to leave him.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Now, what if he decides to join the games and be your personal guard dog?

He gets enamored by you from reading your file. Maybe there is a detail that resembles his past and that pulls him towards you. So much that after see you almost die in the first game he cant help it.

He needs to be there for you.

He is the quiet player that goes to you in the first night to probably offer you a shoulder or a ear to rant to. Maybe if you are reserved about it he would sneak some sweets not telling you how he got them.

He is the one who protects you from any player. Specially males that wants to use you for their own pleasure. Most get the hint to not approach you in order to not get their bones crushed.

Its clear you have a special treatment, from how the guards just give you free pass to the bathroom or you seem to get a bit more times in the games.

When others notice that they beg you to team up with them since you are an advantage yourself.

By this point In-ho its your shadow and no one questions it. He will ever start to poison your mind with his ideals. Like how the game are a necesary evil and how if players did not truly want them then these would not happen.

Hell he would even request a voting to show you.

And no matter why you ended there. He would whisper sweet lies in your ear at night telling how you are different and how you are above the rest. No one compares to you. That if you win he is sure you would have an incredible life and make something out of it.

He already has planned on getting you "eliminated", pay up your debt and make you stay with him at the island.

Is he going to tell you who he is ? Well yes. And he does not expect you to fall quick for him. He knows whatever progress he made at the games will be like nothing and he will do even more calculated moves from now on.

And how does he make you fall for him at the games ? Well first he protects you, lets others know that you are off limits. He gives you part of his food, during nights he sleeps close to you till one night a fight breaks and he defends you like his life depends on it.

After it you most likely ask him to sleep with you. At first he may leave some space between both of you since he does not want to push you too quick. However his heart is beating so fast he cant even close his eyes, he may keep an eye on you liking how peaceful you look while you sleep, away of this reality.

He will let you come at him first. Like one night you may have a nightmare and you will end asking if he can hold you.

Of course he says yes. It does not matter how, maybe he will let you put your head on his chest or be the big spoon and cover you with his body.

Its almost a shame how much better he sleeps with you in his arms.

During games if its a game where you must play alone he still keeps himself close to you. When it comes to teams he is there.

NSFW:

The bathroom stalls end being your meet up place to relief some stress.

For you probably at first its just sex. No feelings, to him its so much more.

Its passionate, its dirty. He knows no one will bother since he is there with you. No one is allowed to enter.

How would he take you ? He can easily lift you against the wall, kiss down your neck and collarbone. Will held himself back from marking you. Its going to make you wrap your legs around him as he pushes his hard dick inside you. He wont bother on muffing your moans, no he wants to listen to them knowing he is the cause of them.

If during one of the meetings you want to give him head he wont complain. But wont be soft. He will use your mouth like his personal toy, pulling your head and fucking your troath till he sees tears down your face.

[hello-car-fandom]

a new friend II yt22

wc: 0.4k

tw: canonical swearing and yuki-induced cute aggression

a/n: for kae and their love for yoints

Yuki loved attention.

He thrived when people paid attention to him. Which is pretty ironic since he spent the whole of last week avoiding vaguely sentient human beings cough the red bull social media team cough for his own mental health.

“How do you feel about being teammates with THE Max Verstappen?”

Not pretty fucking great when everyone keeps reminding him that he is not enough. That he is not worthy of this seat. That he only got it not because he proved it in the four years but because Lawson didn’t deliver the expected output.

A flash of a camera glinted in his peripheral vision. Realizing his options are either to play nice in front of the whole world or to find a spot to hide for a couple of hours, Yuki started power walking. Just as he closed the door to his new favourite place on earth, he realized that he accidentally entered the woman’s toilet. Shit.

How long he spent panicking he didn’t know but the echo of voices getting closer to the bathroom had him snapping out of it. Using the quicksilver reactions he trained for the circuit, he dashed into a cubicle and hopped up on the closed toilet seat. And not even a second later, two people entered his apparently-not-very-safe-and-secure hiding space.

Yuki tried to follow the slow breathing techniques his yoga teacher kept praising (and which he refused to even try) and who knew that these actually worked. Looking around to distract himself from eavesdropping on two probably lovely ladies, he found himself zeroing on something scrawled on his cubicle door.

The deadpan tone of his fellow sufferer of the torture that is red bull’s debrief almost had him letting out his first laugh in weeks. But he kept it in with all the restraint that he barely had. A couple of minutes later, Yuki was a man on a mission.

He sneaked out and came back to the cubicle to write a message for his new favourite person.

i dont think that u can be naked anytime soon. if horner wasn’t saying bs he would be mute

Giggling to himself, he planned to come back a couple of days later. 

And he was glad he did. Underneath his super neat message, there was a reply,

you are funny. text me at +881 2222 356

The sun was shining, the paddock was calm, and Yuki Tsunoda swiped his phone open to send a text.