#It’s lovely…. I’m in love. this is so beautiful….. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dollyswishingwell · 3 days ago

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ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ Insatiable

𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 ˙⋆✮ Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 ˙⋆✮ Fluff, smut (not a lot), this would be me yall, ovulating rn fr, who wants this but roles reversed

> ࣪𖤐.ᐟ You simply can’t keep your hand to yourself

𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙡 °‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Rafayel hadn’t painted in days.

Not because he didn’t want to, but because every time he even tried to so much as touch a brush, a certain beautiful menace was dragging him right back into the bedroom by the collar like a starved kitten with her favorite toy.

His poor shirt was buttoned wrong. His once pristine neck was painted in lipstick marks and bitten raw with hickeys shaped like little hearts. His mouth was kiss-swollen, glossy, and parted slightly as he leaned dizzily against the hallway wall, blinking at you like a drunk man seeing God.

“You’re so sexy,” you purr as you press against him, tracing the line of his jaw with your glossed-up finger. “I can’t help it, Raffy. You just exist and I go stupid.”

“I’m the one who’s gone stupid,” he breathes, voice breaking with a soft giggle as your kisses trail down his throat. “Pretty… crazy… wife, stealing my soul every hour on the hour like it’s your little job or something…”

And oh, you did treat it like a job. Like a full-time, salaried position with benefits and paid leave you’d never take. You’d strut around the estate in your little silk robe and thigh-high socks, looking every bit like a forbidden painting, before grabbing him by the shirt and dragging him off again with a wicked grin.

“You’re literally glowing,” you coo, nose brushing against his cheek as you admire your latest work, him. “Look at you. Covered in my kisses. I’m so proud. You’re such a good boy~”

“Nngh—” Raf’s knees buckle.

He slumps into your arms, completely pliant, like you’ve melted every one of his bones with love. His purple lashes flutter, and a dreamy pink tinge sits high on his cheeks.

“My beautiful wife thinks I’m sexy…” he whispers like he’s about to start sobbing. “I’m never recovering from this…”

You tug him close, letting him sink into your arms as you back into the bedroom again, for the fifth time this afternoon.

“Shhh, you don’t need to recover, raffy,” you whisper against his mouth. “You just need to lie back and let me show you how much I love your stupidly perfect body.”

The door clicks shut.

His palette stays untouched. His shirt stays halfway unbuttoned. And the only brush that sees use tonight… is the one tangled in your hair as he whines your name against the sheets, dizzy on your love.

𝙕𝙖𝙮𝙣𝙚 ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

Zayne was a mess.

Not in the way most people would ever see. Oh no, publicly, he was still Dr Zayne: the cold, composed, genius heart surgeon. Not a strand of black hair out of place, not a single button undone. Calm. Elegant. Untouchable.

But privately?

Privately he was currently standing in the master bedroom with his tie yanked loose, shirt unbuttoned halfway down, and covered in so many lipstick kisses it looked like you’d stamped him into a love letter.

He leaned one hand on the doorframe for balance, panting softly, collar tugged and wrinkled from where you’d dragged him inside yet again.

“…Sweetheart.” His voice was hoarse. “I have patients to check in on.”

“Nope,” you hummed, already circling him like a little spoiled lioness in silk and perfume. “You’re my patient now. And you’re staying in bed until I say you’re discharged.”

Zayne blinked slowly, like his brain was still buffering from your kisses. His tie slipped from his neck entirely. His hands were on your waist before he could even think.

“You’re addicted,” he murmured, but his voice was low and warm, full of amusement and just the slightest tremble of surrender.

“You’re the one who walks around this house in tight black shirts like a walking wet dream,” you purred, fingers tracing down his abs like he was sculpted marble. “I told you I married you for your body, doctor.”

“…You married me because I own five estates, pay your credit cards off before you even check them, and give you four-hour back massages when you throw tantrums.”

“And also because your V-line is actually life-ruining,” you whisper against his skin before planting yet another lipstick-stained kiss just above his waistband.

Zayne groaned softly. His eyes fluttered half-lidded as he let you press him back against the bed, his gorgeous, sharp-featured face already dazed. There were kiss marks on his hips now. On his collarbone. On the inside of his wrist where you bit down gently just to hear him exhale.

“You’re…unbelievable,” he muttered, voice cracking faintly as you straddled him.

“Mmhm.” You smiled sweetly. “But you love it.”

“…Unfortunately.”

He was so gone for you. Even as his toned arms lay limp against the pillows, even as his body was flushed and marked and glowing under the soft bedroom light, he still looked at you like he couldn’t believe he got to keep you.

And when you leaned down and whispered, “Gonna ride my sexy husband like it’s a sport,” Zayne swore under his breath, caught your hips, and dragged you down hard, like he wasn’t the one who needed a break from you.

𝙓𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧 ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

Xavier didn’t know what time it was.

He was shirtless, breathless, and leaning against the plush velvet headboard like he’d just been gently murdered, his silver hair mussed beyond repair and his elegant neck covered in pink-gloss lip prints and fluttery love bites. The silk sheets were halfway down his waist, revealing the faintest trace of toned abs and flushed skin from yet another… session.

He blinked slowly as you crawled up his body again like a smug little kitten, still glowing, still in that ridiculous frilly negligee he’d bought you just to see you ruin it.

“Starlight…” His voice was low, dazed. “You pulled me in here… five times today.”

“Because you’re the prettiest thing in this entire penthouse,” you coo, kissing under his jaw. “And because I’m addicted to my beautiful husband. Do you want me to stop?”

His arms immediately wrap around your waist, possessive and needy even in his exhaustion.

“…No.”

You giggle and start kissing a new trail across his collarbone, admiring your work. His skin is pale and smooth, your lipstick imprinted all over him like you’d stamped him as your personal property.

He watches you with half-lidded, adoring blue eyes, high on your touch and murmuring things like:

“You’re insane…”

“You keep marking me like a wolf in heat…”

“…I love it.”

His long fingers trail up your thigh lazily, a soft smirk playing on his lips despite how flushed and breathless he is.

“You think I’m sexy?” he whispers, a little teasing, a little desperate.

You pause, eyes widening slightly like he just said the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard. You grab his face with both hands.

“Xavier,” you say, deadly serious. “I think you’re the sexiest man alive. I think you’re so hot it should be criminal. I think you were genetically engineered to ruin me.”

“…Okay.” He swallows. “I’m going to cry now.”

He actually does look like he might, his ears go a little pink and he hides his face in your neck, letting out a muffled groan as you stroke his silver hair and hum softly.

You’re not sure how long you lay there cuddling, but the second you so much as shift your hips,

He flips you under him.

“…One more,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours. “For science. For your addiction.”

And just like that, your sexy, sleepy, otherworldly husband is back in action, completely high on your love, his toned body shivering under your touch, whispering against your lips like a prayer:

“Keep calling me sexy. I’ll never get tired of it…”

𝙎𝙮𝙡𝙪𝙨 ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩

Sylus looked like he’d just walked off the cover of a scandalous magazine, shirt half open, silver hair tousled to hell, red eyes heavy-lidded and dazed, his pale skin littered in deep wine-colored love bites and obscene lipstick prints that trailed all the way from his collarbones down past his abs.

He sat back on the edge of the bed with a lazy smirk and a hand in his hair, exhaling a breathy little laugh like he couldn’t believe what just happened.

Again.

You were already crawling into his lap again.

“Kitty,” he murmured, amused. “I’ve got six missed calls. Three international meetings. A contract waiting to be signed. And here you are… pulling me back into bed for the fourth time in a row.”

“You look too good to ignore,” you say sweetly, arms looped around his neck. “Your body makes me feral, Sylus. You want me to just not jump you every hour? That’s unrealistic. Be serious.”

His eyes crinkle faintly with laughter, head tilting slightly as he studies you with that sharp, slow-burning gaze of his.

“You’re obsessed.”

You hum, nuzzling into his chest. “You made me like this. With your stupid abs. And that sexy little vein on your forearm. And your voice. And the way you look at me when you’re about to ruin my life.”

“Is that so?” His voice dips low, velvety and smug. “Because I’m the one covered in gloss and claw marks, kitten.”

He glances down at the state of himself, shirt wrinkled, belt unbuckled, skin decorated in possessive little reminders of your obsession, and lets out a pleased sound, like your addiction entertains him.

“You’ve been dragging me by the tie into the bedroom like a starving wife with a rich, sexy trophy husband,” he muses. “You want me that badly, huh?”

You climb into his lap fully, pressing a line of kisses up his throat.

“I want you all the time,” you whisper. “I want you spoiled, smug, and shirtless. I want you dizzy and wrecked and begging me not to kiss you again, and then still moaning when I do.”

He stares at you for a beat. Then lets out the lowest, filthiest chuckle.

“God, I love you.”

You grin as he pulls you down again, flat against the mattress, his hands already slipping under your silk slip.

And as he kisses you, slow, possessive, devastating, you feel him murmur against your lips with that teasing, breathy tone of his:

“Next time you drag me in here like that, at least let me close the damn door.”

𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙗 ⋆｡ ‧˚ʚ🍎ɞ˚‧｡ ⋆

Colonel Caleb was wrecked.

His dark brown hair was tousled from where you’d been tugging at it, his uniform shirt was halfway off, gold buttons undone and hanging off one shoulder, and his neck and chest were littered in bright pink lipstick kisses and faint purple bite marks. The top of his black undershirt was soaked in your gloss from where you’d kissed him through the fabric just to be dramatic.

He leaned heavily against the wall outside the bedroom, blinking like he’d just emerged from an oxygen-deprived fever dream.

You peeked your head around the corner, grinning sweetly.

“There you are!” you chimed, grabbing him by the collar. “Round five.”

Caleb flinched. Physically flinched. The collar of his once-pristine Fleet uniform was already stretched from being yanked on all day.

“Baby,” he said, voice hoarse and barely holding it together. “I can’t feel my legs. I, my whole body’s shaking. You’ve been dragging me back into the bedroom every hour like you’re on a mission.”

You beamed up at him with glossy lips and a wink. “That’s because I am. Operation: Ruin My Sexy Caleb.”

“…You need supervision,” he muttered, cheeks slightly flushed, glancing down at the mess you made of him.

“Mm-mm.” You tugged him close, palms flat against his bare chest. “What I need is your stupid hot body inside me again. You’re so big and strong and mean-looking but you fall apart the second I kiss your tummy, and it’s just so cute, I can’t stop.”

His entire body locked up.

“…Stop saying things like that with a straight face, Pips.”

You tilted your head innocently. “But it’s true. You’re my beautiful husband and I’m addicted to you. Look at you. All marked up and dizzy and mine.”

He tried to be grumpy, he really did. But the moment your fingers traced down his abs, his knees gave just slightly and he cursed under his breath.

“I was in a meeting,” he muttered. “Now I’m in your mouth.”

“You’re welcome.”

You grabbed him by the waistband, giggling like a spoiled brat dragging her favorite toy back to her castle. Caleb just sighed and followed, completely under your spell, his rough soldier hands already sliding around your waist.

“Y’know,” he murmured as you pushed him down onto the bed again, “when we first moved into this penthouse, I thought I was locking you up.”

You straddled him, planting another kiss on his cheek with a dramatic mwah and a fresh lipstick print.

“Oopsie. Looks like I’m the one keeping you in bed now, Colonel.”

“…Yeah.” His voice cracked softly. “And I love it.”

And with that, your big, scary Colonel husband, blushing and covered in kiss marks, let out a groan of surrender and let you ruin him all over again.

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l3irdl3rain · 3 days ago

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I’m a lifelong Zelda fan. One of my first video games was Wind Waker. But when Tears of the Kingdom came out I hardly played any of it. I thought it was super weird nobody online was talking about the fact that the text was almost illegible and Link was super hard to see. I could barely tell what he was doing to the point it gave me headaches and I had to stop playing.

Anyways, turned out I needed glasses

#my post #i can’t be the problem. it must be Nintendo making a game for ants that is the problem #not pets #sorry you guys are getting so much video game content lately #also not to plug a game that is over 20 years old but if you were a newbie to Zelda when BOTW came out #I’m so serious you need to go buy a GameCube and play Wind Waker #you are soooo lucky if you’ve never played it bc you will get to experience it for the first time #and if you think you love BOTW koroks wait until you meet Makar. my beloved son who is so talented and beautiful

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levigarden999 · 2 days ago

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bluelock!men ⟡ favorite positions

chars : ⭒ shidou ryusei ⭒ michael kaiser ⭒ yoichi isagi ⭒ seishiro nagi ⭒ itoshi sae ⭒ kunigami ⭒

warnings : smut , +18 , p!v , rough!sex , f!orgasm

₊⊹ shidou ryusei

doggy. there’s no other way. shidou loves to fuck you hard from behind, large hands grasping your hips and occasionally smacking your ass. his cheeks flush hard while he sees how perfectly your ass bounces every time his hips slam against yours. shidou loves to take control, he’s absolutely addicted to the way you whine and plead for more against the pillow. and he obeys – he gives you more just like you want, to the point his cock is smeared with your white cream and your ass cheeks are red from all the smacks he’s given you.

₊⊹ michael kaiser

reverse cowgirl. yup. the position where you’re only allowed to see kaiser’s feet while he’s staring at your bouncing ass with his arms behind his head, a cocky smirk on his stupidly handsome face. he has a superiority complex which definitely reflects to your bed activities as well – he tells you to fuck yourself on his cock and make yourself cum, and if he cums before you, you know the only way you'll come tonight is by your own hand. there’s no way he bothers to finger you or anything if he doesn’t feel like it. i’m sorry but this man is a selfish lover. luckily, his cock feels so damn good that you almost every time fall apart on top of him, hands gripping his thighs as you clench around his shaft. during those times, he sometimes, sometimes, grabs your hips and begins to slam his hips up against your poor, tired pussy.

₊⊹ yoichi isagi

missionary. isagi is a passionate guy who gives his all to things he loves – soccer and you. he’s not a mean one who has a dirty mouth in bed, even though he can get quite rude towards the opponent on the field. but to you – he’s the perfect, loving partner who makes sure you cum first, always. he fucks you with slow and deep strokes which makes the air leave your lungs, his other hand skillfully rubbing your clit as he breathes softly against your neck. isagi tells you how good you are to him, he praises you while his hips roll perfectly against yours, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. but okay, he can be a little mean once you’ve came, since he starts to seek for his own release. and how? leaning back, wrapping your legs on his shoulders and pounding into you shamelessly.

₊⊹ seishiro nagi

riding. nagi absolutely loves to watch you from under his half lidded eyes as you fuck yourself on his cock. he often thinks that every other sex position is a hassle, but riding is something he genuinely enjoys, because he gets to guide your movements and help you cum with little effort while admiring your beautiful body and face as you fall apart. nagi is careful, always making sure you don’t grow tired or hurt yourself. honorable mention with nagi is the fact he obviously loves you sucking his cock as well - especially under the desk while he's focused on playing on his computer.

₊⊹ itoshi sae

doggy/pronebone. sae is also a selfish lover. literally if you think this man gives a damn about your pleasure, you’re delusional. he loves to fuck you from behind, he loves to dominate you and make you take what he gives. of course, sae wouldn’t ever force you to anything – he has normal human morals after all. but once he gets going, you need to be prepared to the fact he will push your face or whole body down on the mattress and fuck you hard to the point your legs are trembling and you’re seeing stars. luckily, his cock pounds right against your sweet spot, making you aggressively clench and cum around his shaft. he tells you you’re such a good girl, that you’re taking him so well, and the second you think he’s slowing down – he only grabs you by the hair and pulls you back up against him, hips continuing to smack against your ass.

₊⊹ kunigami pegging WHO SAID THAT

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1000cavalry · 2 days ago

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I am very emotional about @wolfythewitch’s View between Villages animatic and I don’t think I can fit everything in a YouTube comment. So here’s my review of some of the shots

Beautiful. I would frame this. His expression is so soft, he looks like his breath was taken away by the sight of his home.

There is Eumeus (best dude!) leading the way. The imagery of the bridge is so poignant. I think you can see the palace in the distance at the top of a hill.

Of course we need our hearts broken by poor Argus (is it a true nostos without it?). Also, bit random but Odysseus’ feet are really well drawn here.

Penelope only takes up a few shots of this animatic. I’m glad of that as it allows a focus on all the people Odysseus loves and has missed. She does look absolutely stunning here. The glow of light behind her is wonderful.

Here we get Telemachus greeting Eumeus’ dogs (very cute). Poor Odysseus is still in disguise in the background waiting to finally meet his son.

And then immediately moving to a shot of the last time he saw his son. You get the sense this animatic follows Odysseus’ thoughts.

You can see the scar on his thigh and the plough yoked with an ox and mule. Incredible attention to detail.

This image of the palace gives a sense of the chaos and crowdedness. That maid passing by looks almost tense despite being featureless.

A flashback to the war. I believe Nestor is in the foreground, being passed some bread. I can’t tell who the man Odysseus is talking to is (maybe Menelaus?) but I think Agamemnon is on the left and Diomedes(?) is to the right of Odysseus.

I think this scene is of Odysseus and his crew. None of the designs are immediately recognisable to me. There is a nice sense of comradery.

A stunning shot (no archery pun intended). I love the way wolfy depicts eyes. You can see that age and tiredness in the wrinkles.

#the odyssey #odysseus #homeric odysseus #tagamemnon #wolfythewitch #I just needed to gush about this

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wendichester · 2 days ago

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please!! dean x autistic reader that has an hyperfixation on cars and starts tweaking out when they see the impala for the first time, starting to drop informations about its history and other stuff abt it !! it would be so cute

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 car buff,

summary. dean had no clue you knew so much about cars. and oh boy, he's feeling it

pairing. dean winchester x autistic!reader genre. fluff

wordcount. 545

notes / warnings. reader with hyperfixation on cars (enthusiastic infodumping), slight awkwardness (canon-typical dean), soft boy dean trying to play it cool but melting, lots of car facts, nothing but vibes and serotonin

Dean’s halfway through filling the tank when he hears it.

“Oh my god, is that a ‘67 Impala?”

He turns. And then immediately stares.

You’re walking toward the car like it’s a religious artifact, eyes wide and shiny and locked on her like she’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen—which, honestly, fair. But Dean’s used to people ignoring the Impala. Or calling her a boat. Or saying she looks like a damn hearse.

Not this.

“You even have the original grille,” you’re saying, almost breathless. “Is that the factory paint or did you restore it? Oh my god, and the interior—wait, wait, are those bench seats?”

Dean blinks. “Uh… yeah.”

You drop into a crouch to look closer at the tires and start muttering under your breath like you're cataloging her specs. Which you kind of are.

Dean can’t help but grin. “You a fan?”

You pop up like you forgot he was there, eyes lit with excitement. “Fan is an understatement. This is THE car. Like—the car. It’s the holy grail of muscle. Four hundred twenty-seven cubic inches, V8 engine, 385 horsepower if you tune it right—and she’s got the bones for long-haul driving, which you never get in these classics.”

Dean lets out a low whistle, clearly impressed. “Most people just say she’s shiny.”

“Those people have no taste,” you shoot back, not missing a beat.

Dean laughs. He’s never heard someone defend Baby’s honor that fast. He likes it.

“You a mechanic or just real into old Chevys?”

“I mean—” You pause. “I’m autistic. Hyperfixated on cars since I was like, six. I used to fall asleep listening to my grandpa’s engine manuals. I can take apart a carburetor blindfolded. Tried to do it in eighth grade science class. Was not appreciated.”

Dean barks out a laugh. You beam, proud and not even a little embarrassed. It’s contagious.

“Name’s Dean,” he offers, tossing the gas nozzle back into the pump. “She’s mine. Fully restored her with my own hands. Most folks don’t even give her a second look anymore.”

“They’re fools.”

He points at you. “Exactly.”

You walk a slow circle around the Impala, reverent. “The chrome’s original, too, huh? You polish this, don’t you? Like religiously.”

Dean looks a little sheepish. “Every week.”

You glance up at him, a big, dorky smile on your face. “I think I love you.”

Dean chokes. “Sorry, what?”

You freeze. “Oh my god. Out loud. I said that out loud.”

You look like you’re about to self-destruct. Dean raises his hands quickly, chuckling.

“Hey, hey—it’s alright. I mean, you just met the real love of my life. Pretty sure you’re her type.”

You glance at the car. Then back at Dean. “So… do I get to sit in her or do I have to buy you dinner first?”

Dean grins, big and slow. “Tell you what. You let me take you to dinner, and I’ll even let you ride shotgun.”

You gasp. “With the windows down?”

Dean nods solemnly. “Cassette tape blasting. Bench seat privilege included.”

“Deal.”

You hold out your hand like it’s sacred, and Dean takes it, shaking with a smile.

Neither of you knows it yet, but this is absolutely going to become a love story.

It just starts with chrome.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fic #supernatural #.docx #.req #d : car buff

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norrisainz33 · 1 day ago

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protect your peace || ls18

summary: you and lance keep your lives pretty private and so it's no surprise when you keep a really big secret from the world!

pairing: lance stroll x wife!latina!reader

fc& warnings: karol g and some hate comments, mentions of pregnancy and poorly translated spanish

requested: yes!! thank you for your patience xoxo

masterlist

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

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user1: who cares

user2: omg pls let this be true lance and y/n would make sure good parents

user3: respectfully no one cares about y/n and lance

user4: y/n really did disappear hold on.. she hasn't been in the paddock since australia and she hasn't posted a photo dump since winter break

user5: hope its not them i truly don't care about y/nlance

ynstroll has posted to their story

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user4: so cutieful but i am noticing the crop here

yourbff: spoilleedddddd

ynstroll: hes always taken good care of me but ever since we found out he's gone above and beyond

yourbff: i mean AS HE SHOULD!!! you are the perfect, beautiful, gorgeous woman carrying his child

ynstroll: can you believe you're going to be an auntie?

yourbff: no! but i cant wait!!!

user1: yeah your husband is rich we get it

lance_stroll: i hope you enjoyed your day my beautiful girl!

ynstroll: i had the best time!! thank you for coordinating and for getting chloe to come with me. you are so incredibly thoughtful even when you're not here

lance_stroll: its been killing me that i can't be there with you

ynstroll: i know but you are busy scoring points for us my love! plus you'll be home for a summer break soon

user2: you've got a glow about you

flavy.barla: prettiest girl in the world

ynstroll: 😭🤍

user6: a rare y/n appearance! that spa must have really hit

lance_stroll has made a post

liked by astonmartinf1, yourbff, chloestroll, estebanocon, ynstroll, scottyjames31, pierregasly, and 875,324 others

lance_stroll: slowing down for a while 💙

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f1gossip: convenient cropping

chloestroll: sunshine for my sunshines

ynstroll: and it is much needed 🤍

user1: you’re usually pretty slow mate

estebanocon: enjoy mon ami

lance_stroll: 💙

user4: y/n front and center as she should be

ynstroll: always thankful for you and summer break 🤍

lance_stroll: one day summer break will be every day

ynstroll: looking forward to it

user3: will never understand why she chose you

flavy.barla had posted to her private story

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iamrebeccad: GORGEOUS

flavy.barla: no you

ynstroll: i love youuuuu 😭🤍

flavy.barla: i love you more my wonderful best friend 🤍

lance_stroll: thanks for celebrating with us flavy😘

flavy.barla: i wouldn’t have wanted to celebrate with anyone else!! i love you both so much and can’t wait to see what wonderful parents you two make 😘

estebanocon: 🥹❤️

flavy.barla: 🤍🤍🤍🤍

chloestroll: two of the prettiest girls in the entire world

flavy.barla: merci mon ange 🤍

ynstroll has posted to their private story

[only 3 more days until we meet our baby girl!!]

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flavy.barla: it’s actually criminal how beautiful you are

ynstroll: you’re the sweetest. i’m so thankful to have had you here with me through this all

flavy.barla: aww mon ange!! you are my best friend and i sincerely can’t imagine a world in which i wouldn’t be by your side 😭❤️

chloestroll: you’re glowing

ynstroll: i actually feel radiant but also i feel really ready to get ms girl out!!

chloestroll: i totally know the feeling. you’re almost there mama!

yourbff: MILF!!!!!!! wait who said that

ynstroll: must have been the wind!!

lance_stroll: i can’t wait to meet her!! i love her so much already my heart may explode

ynstroll: same!!! i’m so excited. i can’t wait to be her mommy and daddy 🤍

lance_stroll: you’re going to make the best mom in the whole world

ynstroll: i really hope so 😭

lance_stroll: i know so! you are the best mom to our puppy and the most caring and thoughtful person i’ve ever met. our little princess is in the best possible hands

ynstroll: i love you lance

lance_stroll: i love you more my beautiful wife

estebanocon: i’m so excited to be an uncle 🥹🤍

ynstroll: and i’m so excited for you to be an uncle!!!

iamrebeccad: carlos and i have been training for our auntie and uncle duties! house is officially baby proofed

ynstroll: no why am i actually crying my eyes out right now. you and carlos are going to be the best aunt and uncle ever! baby stroll is so so so lucky to have people like you guys in her court 🤍

lance_stroll has posted to his private story

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yourbff: i’m screaming i can’t wait i can’t wait i can’t wait!!!! im in the car right now on my way to the hospital!!!

lance_stroll: we just got here and she’s asking for you!! hurry up !!!!

yourbff: oh my god i’ll be there in 2 minutes

chloestroll: AHHH!!!!!!!!!!!! IM OMW!!!!!!

lance_stroll: i’m freaking out please hurry

chloestroll: you’ve got this my sweet baby brother!!! it’ll be ok!! i’m pulling up now.

estebanocon: sending you both all of my love! i can’t wait to see the little princess stroll 🤍

lance_stroll: merci estie 😘

flavy.barla: best news!! praying for a safe delivery for mama and the beautiful little girl 🤍

lance_stroll: thank you flavy! i’ll keep you up to date

iamrebeccad: make sure you take care of our girls 😘

lance_stroll: i will do my best!!!

alexandrasaintmleux: i’ve actually never been more excited for something ever in my life

lance_stroll: SAME

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ynstroll: the happiest we’ve ever been. welcome to the world little girl! your mommy and daddy love you more than life itself. gracias por elegirnos [thank you for choosing us] 🩷

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yourbff: brb crying in the club

ynstroll: me too

user1: hid the whole thing that’s wild

ynstroll: it’s called protecting our peace 😘 [liked by lance_stroll, estebanocon, yourbff, astonmartinf1, maxverstappen1, lando, flavy.barla, iamrebeccad, alexandrasaintmleux and more]

lance_stroll: the strength you have shown has been nothing short of inspiring. i am so thankful to be sharing this life with you and now our little girl 🩷

ynstroll: thankful for a husband like you 🩷

user4: getting a little parasocial rn no one look at me!!! i’m so excited for you both

astonmartinf1: welcome to the team princess stroll 💚

ynstroll: gotta get her in some am gear quick

user2: another milf and dilf have entered the villa

iamrebeccad: beautiful mama

ynstroll: beautiful auntie

user12: cutest family on the grid

flavy.barla: the best parents to the best little girl 🤍

ynstroll: love you big time auntie flavy 😘

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading! likes and reblogs are appreciated

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

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nekonaps0 · 3 days ago

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Ok. This is the first time in a long time I asked someone for something on Tumblr.

What if the Housewardens/dorm leaders found out that Female MC is the daughter of the goddess of Love and Beauty. Aphrodite!

I’ll totally understand if you don’t feel like doing this. I’m like so nervous. ;-;

Your little high and mighty

✦fem!reader

✦characters: dorm leaders

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle was already struggling with how effortlessly you turned heads. You were always so graceful, eloquent, heart-stoppingly lovely… and he hated how flustered he got in your presence.

But when Crowley casually mentions your divine heritage during a Housewarden meeting, Riddle nearly drops his teacup.

“A-Aphrodite?! You’re her daughter?! That’s why everyone becomes irrational around you…”

He goes red to the tips of his ears.

He spends the next week rereading Every Magical Law About Deities & Demigods, trying not to look at you too long or think about how good you looked the last time you smiled at him.

Eventually, he admits to himself

“It makes sense. You’re love incarnate… no wonder I couldn’t help falling.”

Leona Kingscholar

He always knew there was something dangerous about you. The way you walked, spoke, smirked at him, everything about you screamed temptation. He told himself you were just annoying.

But when Jack slip your parentage after accidental.

Leona stares. Blinks. Scoffs.

“Makes sense. Aphrodite’s kid, huh? Guess that explains why every guy in this school loses their damn mind around you.”

He acts cool, but the knowledge kills him. Now every time he looks at you, he can't help but imagine you lounging on some cloud in a silk robe, dripping in divine perfume.

He starts avoiding you.

…Only to later press you into a wall with a growl:

“Tell me right now, herbivore—did you use your mom’s powers to mess with my head, or is this just how you are?”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul always prided himself on control, charm, and strategy.

So why did he fumble words every time you got close? Why did the lounge fill to bursting on days you worked a shift there?

Then one night, Floyd lets it slip:

“Shrimpy’s a demigod~! Her mama’s that hot love lady~!”

Azul spills his drink. His first reaction is panic.

“Does this mean I signed a business contract with a goddess’s daughter?! Oh Seven…”

He spirals. Hard.

But once he calms down, it all clicks—your allure, your emotional intelligence, your strange way of getting even the most stubborn eel to obey. Eventually, he shyly pulls you aside.

“I… I hope you don’t think I treated you differently because of your heritage. It’s just… you’ve always been radiant.”

Idia Shroud

Idia almost short-circuits. He learns about your divine heritage through an obscure, outdated wiki link Ortho finds—and immediately spirals.

“This is a love interest route I’m not leveled for!! She’s literally part of the Olympic pantheon!”

He becomes too afraid to talk to you, convinced you’re out of his league. He avoids eye contact, stammers more than usual.

Eventually, you confront him with a smile and a soft,

“You don’t have to treat me like a goddess, you know.”

He turns neon pink.

“T-Too late! You’ve already unlocked my heart’s hidden event!”

Malleus Draconia

Malleus is intrigued. A goddess’s daughter? A being who understands the weight of lonely legacy?

He’s not threatened, he’s fascinated. Your aura has always glowed in ways beyond the human, and now that he knows why… he feels closer to you.

“Daughter of Aphrodite… I wonder, does your magic rival mine?”

There’s a strange kinship in your connection now, two ancient bloodlines drawn to one another.

“I, too, know what it means to live among mortals, yet never truly be one of them.”

And when he next kisses your hand, it lingers. Reverent.

“Let us walk this strange mortal world together, my radiant deity.”

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim is the most excited of all. When he finds out from Jamil (who knew, but definitely didn’t want to say), Kalim literally gasps and nearly trips over himself.

“That’s AMAZING!! No wonder you’re so kind and beautiful! Your mom’s literally the goddess of love?!”

He starts calling you “goddess” playfully, and showers you in compliments and gifts.

He never treats you differently, but he’s constantly in awe.

“Can I ask what love magic feels like? Do you sparkle? Is there, like, a divine aura?”

The truth is… he’s always been in love with you. He just didn’t realize how fitting that was until now.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil suspected it.

No mortal girl should have skin that glows without highlight or lashes like that naturally beautiful. You were natural perfection, and it irritated him—until it fascinated him.

When your divine lineage becomes public? He’s quiet for a long moment, then simply says:

“So. You’re Aphrodite’s daughter. Hmph. I suppose. It’s explains a lot.”

He plays it off like it doesn’t affect him, but he’s watching you more closely now—studying you. Trying to understand how you walk that fine line between allure and divinity so effortlessly.

Eventually, he pulls you aside.

“Let’s have tea. I want to know more about your mother’s beauty rituals… and you. You fascinate me, potato.”

..............................................................................................................................

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st4rbwrry · 2 days ago

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𓊆ྀི󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠 ୨୧ ˖ ࣪ . . . 5.4k. black fem!reader ◞ countryside setting◞ lowercase intended ◞ soon to be married◞ rough sex ◞ unprotected ◞ age difference ꒰ 36 + 25 ꒱ ◞ praise ◞ oral ꒰ f. ꒱ ◞ fingering + finger sucking◞ hair pulling ◞ creampie ◞ pet name usage ꒰ darling, baby , sweetheart, old man ꒱ ◞ manhandling ◞ choking + spanking ◞ overstimulation ◞ minors aren’t welcomed! reblogs & comments are appreciated <3 𓊇ྀི

꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 ꒱ . . . my first rick fic soo i’m hoping i did his characterization well ! here’s some visuals for theme . <3 ‘n here’s the smut linkies > > ( ❤︎. ❤︎.)

the black 1967 chevy impala quietly pulled into the gravelly driveway of a small cottage nestled within a tiny town. the neighborhood’s always silent around these hours, only semi-peaceful disturbance of cicadas bellowing in the freshly mowed grass. the worn out cowboy boots on rick’s tired feet stumble up the main entrance of the home, keys jangling from the loop he had his finger secured in. when entering his house, it’s nearly pitch dark had it not been for the kitchen light being lit. an old white, floral printed couch that was usually wrapped in plastic was now pulled out to reveal a bed where two women slept peacefully in silk pajamas. your best friends, and bridesmaids.

tomorrow was a special day. a wedding was to be held at a cathedral not too far out of town. something small, something memorable. he was never one big on attention, though family was sacred. he’d already planned to have a separate gathering for either side of your families to celebrate the marriage. the thought of being wed to you tomorrow brought joy to his heart. he’s waited so long to fully make you all his. he would’ve married you from day one had you not been difficult to lock down. however, he loved the chase.

heavy feet thud up the old wooden staircase, nowhere near as quiet as he seemed courtesy to the alcohol running rampant in his veins. pushing forth the bedroom door, rick’s instantly soothed when he catches sight of you. sitting on the floors that bear the gentle patina of age by your side of the bed, a plush area rug in earthy tones providing a cozy contrast to the cold hardwood beneath. the large four-poster bed dominates one wall, its rich, arched mahogany frame polished to a warm sheen. soft, billowy curtains in a subtle floral pattern hang from the windows, filtering the moonlight into a cool glow.

in the corner, there’s an antique sewing machine that sits atop an oak nightstand. you’re surrounded by spools of thread, sequins, and scissors. occasionally, you’d sip on your mug, or his since it read ‘daddy of the year’ — containing raspberry leaf tea. the fluff of your curly ponytail swings as you turn to face your fiancé, a smile beaming bright from his presence. there’s two long tendrils of hair that frame both sides of your pretty face. lashes still curled and brushed with mascara, and lips pigmented with liner and gloss. a natural beauty.

rick notices you’ve got on a shirt of his. it’s nothing out of the ordinary, but it gets him out of character suddenly. he’s got a deep grin on his face, smile lines puncturing and blue eyes twinkling. you let him greet you with a hand patting at the top of your head, his hand easing down to cup your face before he’s plopping down on the floors before you.

“hey there, darlin'," he slurred, his speech slightly slowed from the alcohol.

calloused hands brush along your knee, your hands intricately stitching final touches to your wedding gown. his thumb absentmindedly rubs circles on your thigh, resting on his elbow as his gaze lazy drifts over your features. you always knew when he had a good time with the guys because he’d come home smiling like a lovebird just because he missed you. they were nice to be around, but nothing compared to coming home to you.

“hi, baby. how was your night?” the delicate tone of your voice instantly brings peace, rick humming elatedly.

“night was good. knocked back a few cold ones. even caught the falcons game. a damn tragedy,” rick says with a suck of his teeth at the end.

“yeah? you bet money?”

“only ‘bout twenty.”

“mm, good thing it wasn’t nothin’ too drastic,” you go to cup the underneath of his jaw, holding the needle and thread in your other. you shift his jaw from side to side, the cap on his head hiding his eyes that haze over. you caught a whiff of beer and cigs on his breath and clothing mixed with his cologne. “can smell it on you for sure. got some tea on the stove if you want.”

rick pulls back slightly, chuckling. “sorry ‘bout that. i’ll take some in a minute.”

his eyes drift along your figure, his baby blue button-up you wore hugs every curve of your body tight. a few buttons undone that shows your cleavage, a silver necklace or two swinging. the high pony on your head that’s curled at the ends sway around you heavenly.

“played pool and stuff?”

he blinks, humming, “yeah, shot a few rounds. daryl cheated though, swears he didn’t but y’know i can catch me a liar like nothin’ . — this shirt looks good on you.”

rick’s voice is a low purr, fixating on the softness of your thighs he continues to rub on, a decadent scent resembling tiramisu casting over his nose. eyes even catching some glitter on your skin. “think you could show me what’s underneath this garment, sweetheart?”

smiling, you continue sewing. “don’t try to turn this about me. you’re an hour late.”

a contrite expression overtakes as he knocks his head back to look up at the clock on the wall, now realizing it’s way past the hour he promised to be home. rick sighs, lifting the brown cap on his head to run a hand back, curly ringlets sitting at the nape of his neck. “shit, i’m sorry, sweetheart. you know i always stick to my word.”

a giggle escapes. “don’t beat yourself down, old man. it’s alright. i’m glad you had a good time with the boys.”

“you a ‘lil jealous?” he tosses his hat aside, bringing himself closer to you to kiss your knee.

rolling your eyes, you shake your head. “i was with my girls. we had a good time, too. couldn’t sleep, though. got an idea to add some embroidery to the dress.”

it didn’t occur to rick that you’d let him see the dress this early on. honestly, you didn’t care too much for old traditions. they say it’s bad luck for the groom to see the dress, but superstitions didn’t bother you none. it was already untraditional that you were being wed without family. it was a plan you had for a long time. for your first wedding, you just wanted it to be something small with each of your close friends. run away together after. come back in two weeks and have a family gathering, then a couple years in, possibly five — you’d renew your vows with a bigger setting. and by then, hopefully, a big family of your own.

“it’s lookin’ gorgeous, you did a good job.”

“thank you, baby.”

his touch maps the contours of your body through the fabric of the shirt. you’re sitting on your bottom but your left leg is folded in, foot resting on your other thigh. rick leans back a bit to adjust where he laid, catching sight of white lace underneath. he hinders himself.

“i saw a few new homes they’ve been building in the newspaper. i figured we could go view them, you know, after we find some time.”

rick nodded thoughtfully, now tracing patterns over your arm with his fingers. “yeah, that’s soundin’ good anything in particular you're looking for? big backyard for a garden? a nice kitchen so you can bake your famous pies?”

“hmm, i’ve been wanting something really vintage, something built in the 70s. ‘bout forty acres, enough to have a garden and an area for you to grill with the boys . . and the kids to play,” you smile dreamily at the thought. “i love our home here, but a bigger space would be nice. that’s always been the plan, right?”

rick nods assuredly. “right, we always talked about that. we can make that happen. i w’na make you happy. you deserve the big house with the wraparound porch, and the giant kitchen so you can bake me pies.”

“you hungry or somethin’? you keep talking about these pies,” you joke.

“i repeated myself? whoops,” rick palms his forehead, the both of you laughing. “guess i am. i need to sober up. c’mere.”

rick remains rested on his elbow, fingers trailing closer under your shirt, grazing your tummy and inching his face closer to your thighs. your back rests against the bed, biting your lip with a giggle as you clamp your legs shut.

“no, no, mister. save your energy. we gotta be up bright and early.”

“gimme one of those sweet kisses, it’ll wake me right on up,” he’s playfully biting at your hips now, the dress you held in your hands now displayed on the floor.

the quickness of heat encasing your face makes you shift back, stirring your waist unwittingly. full bearded face that grows like nothing, giving him a trim just a few days ago, patched with stubborn grays tickle your inner thighs the further he spreads them and the harder you clench them to stop him.

“nuh-uh, not when you’re like this. one kiss will lead to ‘em sneaking somewhere else. and you know it.”

“mhm,” it’s like he’s not listening. “one little kiss, huh sweetheart?” his voice was a low rumble, body practically thrumming with tension and need.

pushing away your dress and tools so neither of you would get hurt, or your dress ruined, you nod for his approval, “just one, rick.”

he couldn’t help the cocky smirk displaying as you relented, eyes glinting with triumph. “that’s my girl.”

hands roaming your body possessively, each touch inflames you both, gasping as his rough hands grope your waist and leads up to your tits he kneads in his palms. rick loves to touch you, even if it’s for a simple kiss. they encapsulate yours with hunger, whimpering into his mouth when his tongue touches yours, tasting liquor and tobacco. tea tree scent of beard butter on his facial hair still strong and it weakens you. the kiss gets messier, rick grabbing at your neck as you lean your head back and accept every rough suck of your lips he takes. the two of you are eating at each others faces like it’s the first time you’d gotten to.

he could feel the heat building between you, his restraint slowly ebbing away. he had broken the kiss to catch his breath, eyes darkening with raw pleasure, "damn, ꒰ ♥︎ ꒱',” he rasped, his voice rough. “i want you so goddamn bad right now.”

pawing at his chest, black shirt enveloping his muscles, you gnaw at your lips. “said one kiss. gettin’ greedy, rick.”

rick’s lips trailed a path from the pulse points on your neck to just below your ear, his breath giving you goosebumps. “i said i need you.”

as he sits on his knees before you, his big hands are tugging at your panties, face stern as he pulls them down your ass as you lift, the pads of his fingers digging into the plump of your ass. looking up at him in a daze, your mouth drops in submission once he’s tearing them off your skin, gasping from the air your slick folds are exposed to. without being aware, you’re full on soaked. lips between your teeth, you study the way rick lowers himself before you, crouching at your pussy’s level.

“let me see you, baby,” he whispered, lifting your legs and pressing them up to your chest. “hold ‘em f’me.”

your face is in a pout, gyrating your pelvis forward, fingers hanging in your mouth with the gleaming, princess cut diamond ring stunning in view. raising your legs, you keep them straight, high, and pressed to your chest. opening yourself up for him, head resting on the edge of the bed. rick felt the way his dick twitched from the sight, indenting his fingers into your plush skin, guiding his thumb up and down your wet slit, knuckle delicately pinching at your clit, pulling back a bit to see the string of cum follow. you always kept her trimmed clean and smooth, shiny under the lamps light.

“look at that, s’fuckin’ precious,” he grunts, your frustrated whines catching his full attention. sounding like a fragile little puppy. “oh, i get it. want me to shut up and get t’the good stuff, yeah?”

you’re staring down at him in a haze, eyelids lowered and nibbling at your nails with your mouth hung, nodding with a pant.

“don’t chew your nails like that, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice close to a growl. “givin’ me all kinds of ideas.”

“mmm, like what?” you tease back.

“like having that pretty little mouth occupied. but it’s not ‘bout me right now.” rick’s teasing, landing a soft smack on your inner thigh close to your pussy. you jump, leaking down to your ass cheeks. it’s a sticky mess he created. “she needs it bad?”

“y-yes, rick. need it now,” you admit.

rick’s huffing out a chuckle, sucking on his thumb to get a quick taste before he’s groaning, ducking his head down to give your pussy a full, sloppy, open mouthed kiss. it sounds like water, his saliva leaking onto you. “always taste so good, can’t wait till tomorrow baby.”

“yeah?” it comes out in a nasally whimper, delving your manicured nails into the backs of your thighs. “a-are you happy?”

“it’s g’na be the best goddamn day of my life, sweetheart.”

his admission makes your face heat up even more, grinding towards his in a desperate, silent plea. it gets rick off, honestly. seeing how fueled you are for touch now. the desire to eat at you is threatening to overwhelm him, so he engulfs you into his mouth without another thought. a small sob crawls in your throat, rick’s eyes primal as he catches yours while a guttural growl rumbles in his chest. teeth sinking into your lip, you whimper and continue holding yourself open for him, jaw dropping and panting heavy from every gentle lick he gives your clit. you gasp when his mouth trails up your inner thighs, spanking them on either side as he shifts his head to catch your bud into his mouth once again, pulling it between his lips gently before releasing and swallowing you up wholly.

the method of his tongue starts off soft, then transitions to teasing laps followed by firmer, more demanding sucks, determined to wring every last drop of cum from you. with your stomach caving in, a high-pitched whine escapes your lips as he devours you, hips bucking wildly against his mouth as you try to escape the intense sensations crashing over you. using your strength to keep your legs in the air, your fingers thread through his hair, tugging harshly as you grind down onto his face, chasing the pleasure building in your core. losing balance when your knees bend, rick guiding his face all over your pussy, allowing you to use his face. the disgusting noise of rick slurping you up and matted beard scraping at your skin makes you lose your mind.

“rickkk,” you’re crying softly, hiccuping and melting into his touch the more he molds at your flesh with his rough hands and sucks on your pussy.

“y’cummin’, sweetheart?” his tongue continues to work, steadily sloshing it after pulling back the hood, tears welling in your sockets and feeble, whiny sobs surpass the lewd sound of spit swapping with cum.

“mm—h-hmm. y-yes.”

“c’mon, then. fuckin’ gushin’ all over my tongue. gimme somethin’ sweet to slide into.”

with eyes rolled back, you mindlessly move your waist that stutters from every lick, sitting in a puddle of mess. frantically, your palms slam on to the backs of your thighs to hold them still as they tremble, smacking at them yourself to coax vibration towards your sensitive pussy all the while urging your fiancé to land a hit where you needed it. and he hits hard in repetitions on either side again like you love. the tickles of his beard makes you incredibly wetter as it scratches all the right parts. it’s getting creamier, and rick knows because there’s a sweeter taste on his palate, and when he goes to curl his fingers into you — pushing and pulling, and because the angle in which you sit is adding pressure to your tummy, it’s all on his hand. gooey and delicious. rick grunts, rubbing your clit with his thumb adjacent to fucking you with his fingers.

“awee, fuck! g-god, baby,” your heartbeat picks up quicker, gasps flowing in the air as you grab his wrist and clamp your legs together creating more tension as you cum.

it takes you quite a while to ease, arching your back off the side of the bed as your stomach presses into his face, rick smelling your lotion and kissing your belly. your eyes can’t help but stare in a daze, every rise and fall of your chest is followed by wheezily pants. legs shaking and skin getting sweaty. the shape of your eyes are daunting. biting your lip as you scratch at his semi-soaked beard to pull him in for a kiss, staring him down with blown sepia pupils and low lids mimicking feline.

rick takes the way you look at him as a threat.

“keep staring at me like that ‘n i’m liable to fuck you right now,” his voice is hoarse.

“g’na keep staring ‘cause i love you,” grinning, you continue to play with him. you liked making him mad.

“mhm, you love your old man?” he muttered gruffly, his grip on your hips getting tighter.

your heart skips a beat, chest tightening with emotion. eyes fluttering closed briefly, then snapping back open to stare at him intensely. “yes, i love you.”

it’s swift when rick goes to lift you up. scooping you up by the column of your underarms as if you were a small pet and placing you down onto the mattress that your body bounces onto gently. giggling in your state, you hum drunkenly as rick’s hands roam over your hot skin, turning you so you’re laying on your stomach with one of your knees raised by your side. the button-up you wear is well over hiked up your full ass, clenching your fist holding the material with visceral appetite, wiggling your butt and hearing your slick that’s glued to your inner thighs.

rick’s got his neck bent slightly to the side, eyes squinting, your act of seduction only worsening his need to roughen you up a bit. he stays silent, unbuckling the hefty black leather belt on his waist and dragging down the zipper ever-so slowly. the lust in the room rises, the alcohol still thrumming in his system as he pulls out his cock. it’s . . fat. pulsing visibly with a swollen head and dense veins — could be a replica of his forearm, really. it’s hanging halfway out of teal boxers, pubic hairs dark and unruly. pulling them further down his crotch so his balls fall out and jolt for your joy. loving the feel of them plopping against your sticky clit from behind.

the sound of him patting the heftiness of it along the plump of your butt ricocheted in the small room. rick’s palming the arch of your back, pushing it deeper so he’d get you in the angle he wanted. bent just enough so he could catch a glimpse of your cunt soddened and open.

“s' thing real pretty, ain’t it?” rick wets his lips, curls falling in front of the frame of his face as he gets a closer look like he’s never seen her before. or, like his face didn’t reside there only five minutes ago. “g’na get fucked real nice.”

being under his monitor always felt nerve-racking. he’d take his time observing your body to see what makes you react to what, or simply get a kick out of the squirming and mewling you act out when peevish. stepping out of his boots and bottoms, he’s allowing you to feel just how scorching his skin was on yours.

“rick.” there’s that crankiness he was talking about. it comes out as a solid groan, continuously swaying your legs side to side even though he’s got your waist locked.

rick lowers his chin, spitting directly on his dick before wrapping his veiny hand around and pumping over the length of it, stroking over the sensitive head before he’s aligning the tip with your dripping entrance. the pink of it showing a tight ring after careful back and forth insertions. a sharp cry ripples from your throat as he fills you completely, walls stretching to pull in his size. you can feel every throbbing inch of him buried deep, the sensation bordering on yummy in its intensity. your nails dig into the sheets as you adjust to the sudden intrusion, body trembling with the effort of relaxing around him. unable to make a noise, you bite down on the sleeve of your shirt as your eyes falter shut. after a few moments, a dull ache of fullness only serves to heighten your arousal, breathless in his possession.

“g’na fuck you so dumb, make you s’full,” rick hisses, sliding halfway out before plunging forward again.

you push back against him, encouraging him to start moving as your pussy clenches greedily around his shaft. turning your head to look at him over your shoulder,

you keep your eyes on his, lashes kissing your cheekbones delicately while you see rick shuffle his black t-shirt up his midsection a bit more, drooling at the sight of his tanned chest and hard stomach. a stripe of hair leading down from the navel, strong arms with light brown frizzy hair, and deepset eyes that lure you in to danger. you fucking loved this man.

“those eyes of yours, darling,” he announces almost with warning, wrapping his fist around your ponytail to pull your neck back for a quick, harsh peck to your full lips.

letting go, his hand finds a new place to grip, and that was your neck. holding you in place while grinding his dick into you. your vision starts to blur as his hand compresses tight around your throat, clawing at his wrist as the pressure exceeds. the weight of your ass claps back onto his groin as the two of you rock together. rick’s thrusts rough and steady, pounding his cock into your pussy depravedly.

“atta girl. take it all.”

unexpectedly, your mind goes blank from the intensity of it all, and just a few thrusts sends you hurtling towards another orgasm, eyes scrolling back and sobs ensuing. rick’s hold on your throat loosens just enough to allow you a precious breath, but the momentary reprieve only fuels his own lust. he watches, transfixed, as your face contorts in pleasure. gasps coming out in ragged breaths, the sudden influx of oxygen only serves to amplify the sensations, and you stutter out his name as you gush and cum hard. pleasure ripping through you, pussy clamping down on his dick tightly.

“ungh, f-fuck — ooh fuck.”

you go to cover your mouth to muffle the sounds, not wanting to wake your friends sleeping in the living room, almost forgetting they were here.

rick’s eyes narrow at your attempt to be silent. “ uh-uh, darling. i don’t give a fuck about waking your friends. don’t cover your mouth.”

whining once again, your favorite, rick gropes your neck to keep you fully still as he fucks harder into you. “eyes on me. look me in the face.”

doing as he says, you maintain eye contact as best you can, screwing your face up the deeper his dick hits inside of you, moaning when he goes to slap your cheek gently and clawing at the sheets in response desperately. every pound gets greedier, a sheen of sweat on rick’s forehead as he prolongs groans and grits his teeth while his hips slam against your ass. a particular noise you make full of broken moans ruins him.

“yesss, good girl,” his brows are knitted, voice getting gruff and guiding your body to bounce back on his dick.

“s’s-so — deep,” the broken tone of your voice emits, crawling your way forward for a sense of relief. just needing it a bit.

“you ain’t goin’ nowhere, girl,” rick grumbles, pulling you back so both of your legs are straight now, grinding his dick into you before removing his hand from your throat to capture your ponytail to yank your head back.

“p—lease, baby,” you beg.

“just a lil’ more. just a little more,” rick nearly pleads, voice softening and turning into whimpers as he grounds his dick into you, lifting his weight off a little before crashing his hips back down again and again. “ugh, shit.”

there’s specks in both of your visions, finding yourself sucking on your fingers as rick licks and nips at your neck, relishing the moment. the moonlight that was once outside began to disappear, clouds settling slowly into dawn. you don’t know how long it’s been since he’s stepped foot into the room, but you knew for sure that you’d both be ridiculously tired by morning.

rick builds up the strength to let you go, for now that is. pulling out tenderly, he’s bringing you up off the bed and lifting your frame in his arms. with your arms draped over his shoulders, you nuzzle your face within the crook of his neck as he goes to sit on a wide wooden chaise facing the opposite side of the room. getting comfy for you both, rick’s got two of his palms on either side of your face to give you a few more sweet smooches. joining in soon was raw, wet kisses. descending his hands to smooth down your backside before kneading the doughy flesh of your butt. manspreading, he’s making sure you’ve got enough room to move, balancing yourself above him using the throw pillows as leverage for your knees.

“drop down slow, baby — slow. listen to your cum coatin’ my dick,” rick whispers, hips stuttering, trying to find his own willpower in not fucking up into you.

the moment narrows down to the pressure of splitting yourself open on him, the musky scent of his skin filling your nostrils, and the steady pulse of his heartbeat against your palms. arousal sticky and loud all over you both. weak whimpers spew as you sink further and further down to the hilt, taking your time and grinding your hips. a soft moan escapes your parted lips as you revel in the warmth and stiffness of him inside you, your pussy clinging to every throbbing inch like a second skin.

“baby, you’re in my tummyyy. you’re so deep. feels so good.”

"you’re stuffed full, baby?”

“mmmhmm,” you murmur, eyelids drooping as you let yourself melt into the feeling of being so deeply filled by his dick. your hips continue to undulate slowly, grinding against him in a hypnotic rhythm that seems to draw him further under your spell.

switching up, you arch your chest towards his and keep your hands on his chest, driving your ass up and down on him to keep the tip of his dick nudging at your spot. it made you both feel good, rick’s touch back on your ass as you gyrate and fuck him.

“get it,” rick grunts in your ear, guiding you up and down while easing his way into thrusting his hips upward, fingers sinking into your supple hips to urge you on.

the way you fuck him is steady and mildly rough, every pop of your ass onto his muscular thighs resounds in the room along with rick fucking up into you to match rhythm. the fat of your ass claps on his skin just as loud, rick raising two hands and slamming them down together before helping you fuck him. up and down, harder. he keeps you where you want to stay, but couldn’t fight the urge to grope your brown skin ravenously before pivoting his groin and beating his dick up each time you plummet.

“r-rick, fuck babyy — mmmgh.”

rick’s gaze is riveted to your face, breathing heavily into each others mouths as your bodies connect lewdly in the quiet confinement of your shared bedroom. birds began to chirp on the outside, and the light hitting your bodies felt poetic. his hand takes your ponytail and pulls your head back, your arch getting sharper and your mewls never ending.

“w’na marry you right now,” you whisper out of high, giggling when his mouth laps at your collarbone.

“you’re silly, sweetheart. you’d w’na get married while i’m fuckin’ you like t-this — fuck.”

“yess, with your dick in me. i love ittt!”

rick gives your ass a playful spank, voice husky as he chuckles and keeps you grounding on his dick. his eyes blaze with unbridled lust and love as he watched you succumb and go dumb, body writhing.

“you can marry me again with my dick in you later, yeah?”

“yess, promise, baby?” you pout.

fuck, you really had a way with making him submit to your every wish. “long as you let me fill you up. c’mon, milk it baby. it feels so good. be a good girl. you’re doing such a good job.”

the more he praises you, the weaker your body grows. you wanted to make him happy, and you wanted your promise granted, so you do what he needs you to and that’s bounce on it faster. rick chokes, jaw lowering as you lift and clench your pussy tighter, fucking him good.

“mmm, fuck yeahh, just like that," rick growls, his voice strained with pleasure. "ride it nice ‘n good, darling. show me how much you want it."

he leans forward, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss as he continues to guide your movements, his tongue delving to tangle with yours. the chaise creaks beneath you, the wooden frame somewhat creaking and scraping against the tile floor with each frenzied bounce.

“i fucking love you,” you cry out, thighs trembling and close to giving out. that bubble ready to burst.

“i love you too, darling.”

rick delivers loving kisses to your lips, sucking and pulling at your lower lip and rushing tongues. he feels close to cumming as well, shoving your chest to his and planting his feet flat while leaning his back fully against the chair for sturdiness before he’s rutting up into your pussy as you claw at his skin. it wasn’t intentional for you to scream the way you did, certainly needing to apologize to the girls once they wake up — but he felt so, so fucking good. fucking you just the right way.

spurts of cum trickle down his groin and thighs as you mindlessly find yourself squirting, biting at his shoulder with tears in your eyes. from the mirror nestled in a corner across the room, he could see you dripping down his dick along with your cream.

“ooo, give it to me. give it to me.”

every spoken word is aggressive with despair, rick fucking every ounce of cum out of you that he could get you to produce before he’s nutting warmly into you. jaw clenching, fingers embedding into your skin harder as if scared to let you go. thick ropes spurting and pussy sloshing over wetly mingled.

he’s got his forearm thrown around you, cradling you into his arms warmly, and it’s comforting. resting his chin on your shoulder, he’s intaking your scent — a scent he’d have forever being married to you starting today. he had such a soft spot for you. you run circles on his back, staying put in the embrace, smiling stupidly.

rick pulls back to see your face. “are you okay, baby?”

nodding, you smile tiredly. “just sleepy.”

“mm,” rick scans the room for the clock on the wall. “it’s close to seven. i’ll make sure to get up and let the girls know you’ll need a lil’ more time before getting ready.”

pawing at his jaw, you give him one big kiss. “you’re so sweet, baby. thank you. can’t wait to marry you.”

rick smiles, adoring that you keep reminding him of that. it makes him feel ultimately secure. “twice, right?”

“mhm, twice.”

#rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes smut #twd smut #rick x reader #rick x black reader #rick grimes x black reader #rick x you #rick smut #rick grimes x y/n #twd x reader #𓊆ྀི󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠󠀠 🫙 ˚⊹ 𓊇ྀི #twd x you

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kaisaerinlover · 2 days ago

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rin would be the type of person who hates parasocial fans so he hates it even more if parasocial fans are harassing his girlfriend and leaving hate comments on her posts or anything he would be so mad that people he thinks are lukewarm and downright pathetic for idolising him in such a way they’d assume they ever had a chance with him to begin with

so if he noticed you’re getting upset at the hate comments (albeit sparse; you and rin would be such a loved couple everyone would find how opposite you are too cute…) he’ll through your phone and find whatever video you were watching and look through the comments and go on his own phone and meticulously reply to all of them

his favourite responses are “lukewarm” “stfu” “i love my gf” and whatever else he’d be such an i love my wife type of bf he’d be obsessed with you and so clingy to you like the fact people dislike you is completely and utterly unfathomable to this man like how can anyone hate you and hate comment on your posts where you look so beautiful and cute hello you’re literally an angel fallen from the sky into his lap made to be his girlfriend???

and you only find out he’s been doing this by another tiktok that came on your fyp about rin itoshi’s apparent bad behaviour towards fans and you realise all the bad he behaviour is just him hate commenting back to anyone and everyone that talked bad about you it’s literally just him being nasty to anyone who dared to speak bad on your name and it makes you feel eternally grateful for having a boyfriend willing to wreck his public image just to defend you

when you tell him how grateful you are for him he’s embarrassed and weakly tries to shove you off him (he obviously wants you to stay clinging to him telling you how grateful you are for him) and blushes a bit because itoshi rin is a whipped LOSERRR but he loves you so dearly…

“rinnie i’m so lucky to have you” you cheese at him and he just mumbles a shut up and pulls you closer and ruffles your hair and watches you giggle about it

maybe he’s not that outwardly affectionate and he’s a bit awkward but you know you’re his princess and he knows you’re his wife to be and he’d rather die than let these lukewarm parasocially obsessed losers speak on you as if they’re any competition for you at all

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x y/n #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader

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writtenbyeli · 2 days ago

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OSCAR PIASTRI

life as an f1 wife (smau) / june 25, 2025

main masterlist 🖇️ home

warnings: fluff

pairing: oscar piastri x wife!reader

face claim: helene ramfjord (for picture purposes)

liked by oscar.piastri, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc and 372,498 others

yn_piastri races with papaya boy 🧡 oscar.piastri

(a/n: yes i know it’s nicole :), it’s supposed to be a picture the reader took of them)

oscar.piastri Love you more than anything ❤️

yn_piastri kisses

fan1 you guys are so cute 💔

fan2 where can i find a relationship like theirs

fan3 AWHHHHHHHHHHHH

alexandrasaintmleux i miss you both

yn_piastri i miss you most baby

oscar.piastri Miss you and your mans

charles_leclerc 😏😏

maxverstappen1 Where is my appreciation post

oscar.piastri Not here bro 👊

maxverstappen1 😔

yn_piastri be nice to eachother

lilymhe come see me!

yn_piastri on my way!

lewishamilton The only way I can get you to rep ferrari is if i get you a Leo jersey isn’t it?

yn_piastri you know me so well

liked by oscar.piastri, lando, lilymhe and 401,692 others

yn_piastri happy 3 year marriageversary baby. i’ve loved nothing more than being by your side through it all 🌷💐 oscar.piastri

oscar.piastri Happy 8 years together and happy 3 years married. I am with the most beautiful, talented, amazing girl in the world. I can’t get enough of you sunshine. ❤️

yn_piastri the bestest bf 🫶

fan1 I CANNOT 💔😔😭🙏 so darn cute

fan2 i’m so done, you guys are endgame. 🥹

fan3 I AM SOBBING ON THE FLOOR 😭❤️

lando Happy anniversary to the best couple!

yn_piastri thank you best fran

maxverstappen1 Yn can you fight??

yn_piastri i’ll fight to the death for my man 🤺

charles_leclerc Got me and Alex crying over here, happy anniversary mes amis.

alexandrasaintmleux 🥹

yn_piastri love you guys ❤️

oscar.piastri 😘❤️

mclaren The paddock princess 🧡

liked by yn_piastri

liked by yn_piastri, fernandoalonso, georgerussell and 987,224 others

oscar.piastri Happy 23rd birthday princess 🩷🎂yn_piastri

yn_piastri thank you baby 🥹

oscar.piastri ❤️❤️

carmenmmundt HAPPY BIRTHDAYY 🎂🥳🎉

liked by yn_piastri

kimi.antonelli Happy birthday yn! 😇🎁

liked by yn_piastri

maxverstappen1 Happy birthday!! 🎊

liked by yn_piastri

kellypiquet Love you yn, happy birthday 🩷

liked by yn_piastri

liked by oscar.piastri, carmenmmundt, maxverstappen1 and 339,721 others

yn_piastri out & about🍹

oscar.piastri Beautiful 😍

yn_piastri no you osc

charles_leclerc Leo misses you

yn_piastri i miss leo 🥹

lando Oscar is blushing at his phone

oscar.piastri Of course I am she’s perfect

yn_piastri 😇🩷

mclaren When will we be seeing you next?

yn_piastri very very soon

fan1 need that, want that, got to have that 😜

liked by yn_piastri

liked by oscar.piastri, charles_leclerc, mclaren and 358,110 others

yn_piastri date night 🖤 oscar.piastri

comments on this post have been limited.

oscar.piastri Sunshine girl ☀️💖

yn_piastri sunshine boy 🌞

@writtenbyeli 2025

written by eli <3

#f1 #formula one #formula 1 #drivers #f1 2025 #f1 drivers #paddock #grid #f1 grid imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fiction #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #max verstappen #charles leclerc #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader

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whytheylosttheirminds · 3 days ago

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Blue Sweater - r.c.

disclaimer: originally posted on my old blog in October, this is a repost! soft bf Rafe belongs on tumblr, so I am returning him to his home to run free <3

cw: smut, fluffy bf vibes, inspired by s4 rafe, pinv, this fic is 18+ minors do not interact

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

You’d fallen asleep on the couch, waiting up for him again. You didn’t fault Rafe for working so hard, you just miss him so fucking much when he’s in back-to-back meetings all day.

You’re pulled from your dreams when the couch dips below you, a large, warm presence settling next to you on the sofa. You didn’t have to open your eyes to know it’s him.

“Hey,” you mumble sleepily, eyes still closed.

He’s smirking down at you, you know him so well you can picture exactly how he looks without actually seeing him.

“Hi,” he leans forward, planting a sweet kiss on your cheek. “I’m sorry, that last meeting ran so long.”

Finally opening your eyes to meet his, you’re almost startled by the sight. Somehow, in the dim evening light, they’re more deeply blue and beautiful than ever.

“Nice sweater,” you say, reaching up to run your fingers along the hard edge of his shoulder. Even though he looks so soft and pretty right now, he’s tense, and you wish you could ease the worry that furrows his brow.

He smiles knowingly, the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkling in the cute way that makes your heart ache for him.

“Thanks, my girlfriend got it for me.”

“She has good taste,” you joke as your run your hand gently up and down his bicep, the soft fabric such a contrast to the hard muscle below.

“Yeah, she’s all kinds of good,” he winks.

“Then why’d you make her wait for you all night?” You pout, sticking out your bottom lip so he’d know you’re just teasing.

“I said I’m sorrrrry,” he whines as he leans over you more, adjusting to bring his legs onto the couch. You make room for him instinctually, his body fitting into yours like you were designed for each other.

He lets his full weight down slowly, sinking you both deep into the cushions. Nuzzling his head into your neck, he drags his lips against the skin below your ear so gently, it sends goosebumps racing across your skin. He can feel your excitement and starts kissing you more firmly, leaving little wet spots up the column of your throat.

Your hands splay out over his big, firm back, rubbing circles into the tight muscles. You press deep, working out his stress, and he groans at your firm touch. Your hands work slowly down his back, pressing as you go. When you reach the hem of his sweater, you slip your hands underneath. Rafe flinches at your touch, a shudder running through him.

“Your hands are cold!” He exclaims, his voice muffled by the fabric of your shirt.

“Oh sorry, love!” you start to pull them away, but he reaches his arm behind him and pins your palms to his skin.

“No, it feels nice, don’t stop.”

You continue, the pads of your fingers digging little figure eights into his lower back, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“What’s got you so stressed baby, hmm?” You ask.

“Just got too much going on,” he shakes his head so his buzzed hair tickles your earlobe. You giggle at the sensation, his head rising and falling with the shake of your chest.

“Poor baby,” you coo, making him smile against you. “Just need a little help to relax?”

Rafe nods against you, moving slightly to lay his head against your chest so you can run your nails along his head like you know he likes. You bring one hand up, the other still under his shirt, the motion making you open your legs wider so you can stretch. He slots between them perfectly, and when you drag your nails over the fuzzy hairs right at the nape of his neck, you can feel him twitch against your core, already half hard.

“Someone’s needy,” you hum, delighted that you can make him so hot just by touching him tenderly like this. “Want me to make you forget all about your bad day?”

“Please,” he groans into your collarbone, pressing his hips down harder so you can feel him fully against you now. Your wetness pools immediately, soaking through your panties as you arch your back and return the pressure.

“Shit, baby, that’s so nice,” he praises.

“I’ve been waiting all day for this,” you confess.

“Then we better not make you wait any longer.”

Swiftly, he lifts his head from your chest and finds your lips with his. It’s hungry and sloppy, the wet skin of his lower lip sliding against yours as your mouths collide. You’re fully grinding up into him now, and there is nothing semi-soft about him, his hard cock threatening to rip the seams of his pants. You writhe, desperate to feel his length. You know it like the back of your hand, picturing his perfect cock clearly as you rock against it. You’ve got every vein, every throbbing, pink inch memorized.

“Take your pants off,” you breathe into his open mouth.

With a cocky grin that makes you impossibly wetter he drawls, “now who’s needy, huh?”

You roll your eyes and reach for his waistband, if he’s gonna be an ass about it you’ll just do it yourself. He mirrors you, undressing you with the same shaky fervor. Your shirt goes first, he’s delighted to see you’ve opted for no bra. In the cold evening air, your nipples harden immediately, and he can see the goosebumps spreading across your torso.

“Ohh baby, you really are freezing.”

“Mhm,” you nod, lip pulled between your teeth. “Warm me up, Rafe.”

A throaty groan rises from his chest as he takes over your work on his pants, ripping them off as best he can without standing, his boxers following. You slip your thumbs under your shorts, doubling up to slide your panties down with them until you’re bare for him. Only one piece of clothing remains between you, the soft blue sweater you bought for him. He starts to pull it off, but you stop him, your hand wrapping around his wrist.

“No, leave it on,” you instruct.

“Whatever you want, angel,” he smirks at your unusual request, but obliges without complaint.

He lays down on you again, his lips hovering over yours as he lets his cock press into your inner thigh. He’s so hard you gasp, inhaling sharply at the sweet pressure against your leg. He kisses you again, more tenderly this time, like he’s trying to imprint the taste of you onto his tongue. As he lets his weight settle on you, the soft threads of his sweater rub over your sensitive nipples, the sensation making your eyes squeeze shut and a strained moan echo from your chest.

“Y’okay?” He asks.

“It feels so g-good,” you croak out.

“What does, baby?”

You blush, feeling silly for it, but something about the soft material against your hardened skin is so delicious.

A little embarrassed, you admit, “the sweater on my tits feels really nice.”

“It does?” He questions, amused.

“Just stay on me baby, don’t stop.”

You and Rafe have been known to argue about almost anything, but he never argues when you tell him how to make you feel good. He flattens his chest against you fully, rutting his dick against your leg, causing his chest to rub against yours as requested. Your head falls back into the throw pillows. You let him continue to move you both until you almost can’t stand the friction anymore.

“I love that,” you whimper, eyes still squeezed shut. “But I need you inside.”

“Can’t wait any longer, huh?” He chuckles. Once again, you don’t need to see him to know what he looks like, his eyebrows are surely arched high and his lips quirked to the side as he looks at you in amusement.

“Rafe I’ve been waiting for like twelve hours,” you complain.

“I know, baby, I know,” he quells you. “I got you, alright?”

Propped on one arm, his sweater leaves your chest for a moment so he can line himself up at your soaked entrance. You wait with closed eyes, bracing for impact as you know it will take a minute to adjust to his size, it always does. But he doesn’t enter you, just grumbles with annoyance as he shuffles above you.

Your quizzical eyes open to find him fumbling with the collar of his sweater, preparing to pull it off.

“What’s the problem?”

“I want to see you, but this fucking sweater’s in the way,” he explains. You lift your head and look down to where your bodies should be meeting to see the hem of his sweater hanging in the way, blocking the view. “I’m just gonna take it off.”

“Nuh-uh!” you object.

“Baby,” he whines.

A solution comes to you, causing you to break into a wide grin.

“Open up,” you say, and he’s never looked more confused.

But then, you reach down and pull the hem of the sweater between your fingers, making his stomach flinch as you brush against it. You lift the hem up to his mouth, revealing the sight of his cock dangerously close to your entrance. He puzzles it together, and teasingly rolls his eyes before letting you place it between his teeth. He bites down on it obediently, considering a protest before looking down to see he now has a perfect angle to his favorite sight in the world.

It feels so good when he finally slides in, stretching you so deliciously and filling you like only he can, that you almost actually cry. He moves gently, considerate enough to know there’s probably an edge of pain to your pleasure.

“You don’t have to go slow,” you assure him. “Take your stress out on me, I can take it.”

“Yeah?” He tries to sound cocky, but it’s muffled from the fabric between his teeth.

The way his jaw clenches in frustration makes you giggle. Rafe usually does most of the talking, knowing the sound of his low voice in your ear makes you come so much faster.

“I’ll do the talking, just focus on my voice while you fuck me, m’kay?” You purr.

He nods in agreement, picking up the pace until he’s rocking into you, continuously hitting the perfect spot that makes you both shudder with pleasure. He’s going so hard you have to lift your arm above you and steady yourself against the arm of the couch. His eyes flit between the sight of you taking him in so perfectly and the way your tits bounce with each thrust.

You keep your promise to talk him through it, starting with, “just like that, Rafe- mmmph- feels so good. God, I can feel you so deep.”

His brows furrow in concentration, thrusting harder, desperate to drag more praises from your kiss-chapped lips. Your eyes train on the veins in his neck, throbbing with effort. You reach your other hand up and grab his chin, pulling his face so his eyes pierce yours.

“Shit, you look so good fucking me like you needed to,” you cry.

As much as he loves the eye-contact, he’s still wearing this stupid sweater for a reason, and he needs to remind you. He matches you by placing his hand on your face, soft but firm, and directing your gaze down to see him pistoning into you.

“Oh my god, that’s so hot,” you smile, admiring the creamy mess you’re making on his shaft. “You’re fucking covered in me, baby. Made me so wet comin’ in here looking this good.”

He removes his hand from your head, looking for a non-verbal way to thank you for your compliments. He presses his thumb to your tongue, and you don’t need words to know what he’s doing. You get it nice and wet, swirling spit around his thumb with your tongue. Once it’s ready, he lowers it to your clit, rubbing back and forth a few times before forming steady circles.

“Ah- fuck- yes, Rafe that’s so-” Your commitment to keep talking falters as pleasure floods your mind, robbing you of your voice.

He knows what you need, he always knows what you need. He pulls your hand from his chin and places it on his chest, you bunch the fabric of his sweater so he can release it from his teeth.

“There ya go,” he coos. “Need me to talk you through it, huh?”

You nod desperately, confirming what he already knew.

“Couldn’t even concentrate in my meetings,” he begins, panting with the effort he’s putting in, not letting up his pace. “Thinkin’ about you here waiting for me, walking around the house in those little shorts. How am I supposed to close deals when I can’t stop thinking about bending you over the kitchen counter and fucking this perfect pussy, huh?”

His words had exactly the effect he was hoping for, you were beside yourself, moaning and squirming beneath him. Letting out the sweetest little “oh, oh, ohs” as his cock rocked your whole body. He was losing tempo, both of you nearing the edge. You brought your other fist up to bunch his sweater, too, grasping so tightly you were afraid you were gonna tear it. You clenched around him as he kept talking.

“That’s it, baby, squeeze me as hard as you can - fuck!” He was unraveling, needing to find the words to get you there so he didn’t finish first. “Fuck, that’s my good girl.”

Just as he expected, that’s what finally did it for you. You cried out his name as sparks exploded in your stomach, coming so hard you had to bury your face into his chest to keep from screaming. He followed behind you almost immediately, his hot cum spurting into you as his primal groans and grunts echoed through the room.

A few minutes later, you’re cleaned up and cuddled in his bed, now wrapped up in his sweater, the stretched-out fabric soft against you. He smirked as his hands ran over the material, rubbing over your stomach and waist lovingly.

“Might have to wear this thing every day if that’s how you’re gonna react,” he teases you.

“Uh-huh,” you giggle. “Good luck getting it back.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂

a/n: I'm only back temporarily but I'll be reposting just a few of my non-series works from my old blog that I think just belong on tumblr!! it just feels right for them to be here. miss y'all!

#rafe cameron #obx #rafe #obx fic #rafe obx #rafe cameron x reader #bf!rafe #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut

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coolwyous · 3 days ago

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┈─★ #1 𝘩𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘺

⊹ ࣪ ˖ megan skiendiel loves three things in this world: her amazing brilliant wife, her incredible adorable kids, and the beautiful sport that is ice hockey.

ˎˊ˗ ❄️ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 🔓୭˚. ⠀ ᵎᵎ ⠀ 🗝️

➴ pairing: hockey daddy!megan skiendiel x f!reader

➴ genre + wc: 3.3k, domestic parenting au, all fluff no pain baby!

┈─★ a/n: wrote this in 2 hrs bc i missed our big puppy hockey!megan so bad and this put such a cute fucking vision in my head. can def be read as a standalone but if you're new here, i highly encourage reading the college hockey!au verse this is based in! <3

“babe! baby! jesus christ babe, get in here!”

your mind goes to the worst possible places. your son could be choking, he could be having an allergic reaction, he could be stuck in between a piece of furniture, and your perfect angel of a wife could be having a crisis as she tries to figure out what exactly to do in an emergency.

marriage with megan has been an absolute dream, and you always knew she’d make an incredible parent. protective, calm, kind— basics, sure, but megan does them so easily, you never questioned that a family together would be an absolute dream. however, megan is still megan, and you love her for each part of her, including the parts that panic when things do not go according to plan. that’s where you balance each other out: you keep megan in line when she starts to spiral, and she reminds you of the beauty in the day to day.

in this scenario, you’re in panic-mode, racing into the living room expecting the worst.

you let out a gasp to find not only is there no crisis, no furniture on fire, no natural disaster sweeping up your son and wife, but quite the opposite.

megan is reaching her arms out, crouched down, and your infant son is taking his first steps towards her, his chubby face squished up in the cutest smile you could have ever imagined.

“look at this guy! so sturdy,” megan beams, reaching out ready to catch him should he start to wobble.

you laugh and take a mental picture of the moment. you see a mischievous glint to megan’s eyes as she watches his wobbly little body take another step forward.

“megan, i swear if you even think about—”

“i wasn’t gonna say it!” she throws her hands up innocently.

“he just took his first steps,” you chastise her, knowing her well enough after all your years together. “don’t do this. i didn’t start rambling about universities or classic literature when he first said mama.”

“fine,” megan shakes her head in defeat, focusing back on waving to your son to get him to take a few more steps forward. “fine.”

you smile and turn to go hunt down your phone to document the moment. before you’re fully out of the room, you hear a quiet voice whispering to the baby.

“you’re a tank, dude. you’re gonna make a killer defender. get that core strong and we’ll be on the ice in no time.”

“megan skiendiel,” you warn firmly.

“shit. mommy heard us talking about the no-no word.” megan swoops up your son and uses him like a human shield, knowing you can’t stay mad at your two favorite people in the whole world. “okay, okay. i can wait. i get it.”

“i just want one milestone where you’re not trying to prep him for the nhl, i’m begging,” you laugh, reaching out to kiss her. she grins and kisses you back, scooping up your son to hold him between you two.

you can’t even pretend to be mad. you have the most perfect family in the world, what more could someone want?

“push left, then push right.”

megan makes skating look so easy, impossibly easy as she always has. when the first snowflake of the season fell, you already knew to get the kids’ winter coats ready, knowing megan would force you all into the car and haul you all to the lake ASAP.

“this is hard,” maxie breathes, his lower lip jutting out in frustration.

“guess what?” megan tells him, her voice softening as she realizes the emotions taking over your toddler. “it may be hard, but you can do hard things. and you’ll have me holding your hand all the way through.”

your daughter starts to squirm out of your grasp and eagerly reaches for her other mom. you press a kiss into the beautiful baby’s head and hold onto her, knowing your wife needs all her focus in one place right now.

“push left, push right. don’t be afraid to fall,” she nods confidently as you watch from the snow. “you’ve got this, dude. if i didn’t think you could do it, i wouldn’t be pushing you.”

your heart swells as you see your son’s eyes burn with determination at megan’s encouragement. max does exactly that, and he’s shaky, but making slow paces forward.

megan skates over to you, giving your son some space to figure it out without her over his shoulder. you grin and reach out to kiss her reddened nose, cold to the touch from the chilly falltime air.

“forgot how good of a captain you were,” you compliment, your chest warm and fuzzy seeing how gently but firmly megan builds your son’s confidence. “might want another one just to keep seeing you be that good.”

“another team for me to captain?” megan grins.

you laugh. “no— another kid, loser.”

“oh.” her eyes widen, but that stupid dopey grin only multiplies on her face. “right right right.”

your daughter wiggles once more in your grip and reaches out again. you smile, handing her to megan, who nestles her onto her hip while skating backwards to keep her eyes fixed on your son.

“look, look!” max calls out loudly, beaming with his precious toothless grin as he glides slowly along the ice.

you look up, ready to cheer him on, but your wife has already got you beat, her face lighting up instantly in pure, sincere, beaming pride.

“that’s my boy! that’s my boy!” she cheers.

megan throws your daughter up into the air and swings her legs around her neck to have the toddler sitting on her shoulders, causing the girl to giggle uncontrollably. max, still wobbly, manages to skid along the ice, his confidence increasing with each pace forward he makes without tipping. you smile at your little family.

“baby,” you call out, peeking at the three on the ice from over the pages of your book. “your daughter is about to do a backflip off of the snowbank.”

“josie, sweetie, sit down please,” megan calls out to her, standing with max as the two practice passing a puck back and forth.

“no thank you,” the girl responds simply.

“okay, no, wait,” megan pauses, wrinkling her nose. “no, princess, it doesn’t work like that. daddy’s words are not an option.”

max pauses, watching the whole thing unfold in front of him. he shrugs and drops his stick, putting his hands on his hips as he innocently observes his sister. “auntie dani says sometimes you just gotta send it.”

“okay, no more time at auntie dani’s,” megan grits. you burst out laughing.

“i told you she’d be a terrible influence.”

“i didn’t think she’d try to influence a five year old,�� megan groans, grabbing josie to snatch her off the snowbank. the girl pouts and wiggles out of your wife’s grip, taking easily to the ice in her skates.

“babe, you know how daniela is,” you laugh. “you’re the only one to blame if you trusted her to be a good influence. i told you lara is more than happy to watch them.”

“lara has enough on her hands with the twins,” megan shakes her head, giving max a push to help him slide across the ice, sending the boy screaming laughing. “josie is a tornado.”

“so you stick her with the most insane person you know and expect it to go well?” you laugh.

“okay, okay, this is not bag on daddy time,” megan scrunches her nose at you, grabbing josie by her hood as the rambunctious child tries once more to climb the snow and jump. “i thought maybe dani could help me understand how to lay the law down more. you never have any problems with them.”

“the kids listen to me ‘cause i mean what i say,” you laugh, watching as megan increasingly fails to wrangle the two children as they go in opposite directions. “unfortunately, big bad strong hockey daddy folds every time your five-year-old gives you the puppy eyes.”

josie’s little voice cuts in, somehow at the top of the snowbank.

again.

“can you send a picture of me up here to auntie dani? i want her to see me send it!”

megan’s eyes nearly bug out of her head at the sight.

“my perfect sweet wife, will you grab your daughter, please?” she pleads, nervously holding her arms out in case the girl is too quick and jumps anyways.

you shake your head, pointing behind her as max is aimlessly hitting pucks off in random directions on the ice, pucks you know will never be found again.

“actually, my perfect sweet wife who doesn’t listen or learn, i wanted to do a library date. you’re the one who insisted on taking them to the lake. when you know i still can’t skate,” you remind her.

“oh my god,” megan groans, reaching up to snatch josie by the ankle, causing the little girl to giggle uncontrollably as she gets swung through the air and placed gently back down onto the ice. megan picks up her stick and quickly blocks max from hitting his last few pucks, instead redirecting them all easily back into the small bucket they came in. you watch, impressed. megan has been retired for a year now, shortly after josie turned 4, but she’s still good as ever.

“my thoughts exactly,” you laugh.

“remind me of this exact moment next time i suggest doing this again,” megan blinks.

“babe, this happens every time.” you remind her, flipping through another page in your book. “literally every weekend.”

megan, still impossibly strong, grabs both your kids by the back of their jackets, flipping them both around to face the same direction on the ice. the sound of their rumbling giggles makes your heart flip.

“laps, both of you.” she demands, her voice stern (or about as stern as your goofy, ridiculous megan can get.) “now, minions.”

“no,” josie pushes back challengingly.

“oh yeah?” megan bends down, pointing a finger menacingly at your daughter. “why? scared you’ll get left in my dust?”

you laugh, watching as your wife takes off on the ice, your two bumbling children skating along after her in an attempt to catch her. your heart melts at the sight.

even at lara and dani’s encouragement, megan had never seen herself as exactly coaching material. several colleges had tried soliciting her to coach for them after her time in the wnhl, and she had turned down each of them in favor of staying home with the kids while you continued to work. you didn’t mind— between what she had made playing professionally, your current job, and the current time she can dedicate to her family now that she’s done traveling, the trade off is well worth it.

but the perfect way to fill her time was coaching your son’s 7 & under junior hockey league.

“way to take that shot, champ!” your wife cheers as max misses yet another practice shot. “love the confidence, buddy!”

you laugh and hand her the coffee you just picked up for her in the lobby. “you’re being surprisingly patient.”

“no, he’s honestly so, so bad at this, poor guy,” megan lets out a quiet breath, and the both of you laugh. one of the assistant coaches takes over the drills as you two watch the kids from the side. “he’s trying like hell, though.”

“alright, relax coach,” you wrinkle your nose at her playfully.

you both hear a thud against the plexiglass and realize josie, who is supposed to be taking figure skating lessons on the other side of the rink while max’s team practices, is shoulder checking her poor coach into the wall again, much to the woman’s displeasure. you give her a sharp look to cut it out and she instantly straightens up, nodding at you in understanding.

megan gives you a quick look before bursting out into laughter. you know your daughter’s menace-like behavior is nothing to laugh at, but it’s such a sharp contrast to gentle and compliant max, you’re grateful to have such characters for children that keep you and megan on your toes.

“josie’s sick of figure skating, meg” you tell your wife gently, knowing you’re approaching a sensitive topic for her. “she’s been stealing his sticks and messing with his goal in the backyard. i know you’ve seen her.”

megan lets out a nervous sigh. “i was afraid that’d happen.”

when max happened, you saw it be so easy for megan, like being a boy dad was the most thing in the world. she had all the answers, no fears, no concerns. but as much as she loves both your children equally, you know for a fact that josie was different. megan was so, so much more nervous with raising a girl, and while you didn’t feel the same pressure, you knew it kept megan up at night wanting to make sure she did everything just right for your guys’ little princess.

“she wants to be just like you, meg,” you tell her gently as you both watch the girl roll her eyes at the coach and do another twirl. “she pays attention, talks about your teams, wants to watch your old games. she’s so eager to be part of that world, and you keep brushing her off.”

megan shakes her head, clearly wanting to pivot away from the topic. “mrs. baker called again today. she’s worried about her reading.”

you sigh. mrs. baker, josie’s kindergarten teacher.

“i remember how the first meeting went, megan. i was there, remember?” you laugh, rubbing her arm soothingly. “josie’s still got time to figure it out before they go on diagnosing anything. she’s barely 5. give her time. you sound more worried than her teacher did.”

megan’s knits her brows, avoiding your gaze as she watches both kids on the ice.

“i don’t want her to distract herself with hockey if she’s already at risk of falling behind in school.”

“meg,” you soften your voice, leaning you weight against hers. “it’ll be okay. let her try, we can support her. she won’t fall behind.”

“i don’t want her to beat herself up.” her voice drops into a rasp as you see her swallow down nervously. “i don’t want her to feel stupid.”

your heart aches thinking about baby megan, all those years beating herself up over struggles that were never her fault. you see how anxiously she projects forward, wanting so desperately to spare your guys’ daughter from the same fate, the same self-consciousness, the same lack of confidence.

“she won’t. give her a chance. she might thrive,” you reassure her. “having something she’s that passionate about might make her motivated to work harder.”

megan nods, pressing a kiss into your head. you feel her body relax against yours as you two lean together, watching the practices go on. “you’re right. i’m overthinking it.”

“she might be the next you,” you smile.

before you can say anything else, megan is motioning for the figure skating coach to pause, waving for your daughter to come over to where you guys are standing.

“max, come here,” she calls out, leaning down on the wall to be eye-to-eye with your kids as they both skate over, their eyes wide in confusion. “josie, go borrow your brother’s gear.”

“are you benching me?” maxie asks anxiously.

“would you rather go get a new book and hot cocoa with your mom?” megan asks, her voice soft, her eyes scanning over your son’s face as she chooses her words carefully. “would you rather not come back to practice?”

“i like hockey,” max says quickly, almost too quickly. your heart aches. you see megan in him too— nervous, kind-hearted, eager to be good, not wanting to hurt anyone.

“but do you love it?” megan pries gently, taking one of his hands in hers to comfort him.

“i would rather be reading, yeah,” max admits, his gaze dropping to the floor.

megan is quick to take his chin gently in her fingers and lift his gaze back up to hers. “hey, hey, that’s okay. were you afraid to hurt my feelings by telling me that?”

“yes,” he admits sheepishly.

“thank you for being kind, but thank you even more for being brave and telling me the truth,” she pulls his helmet off of his head and presses a kiss into the top of his sweaty hair. “go with your mom. i love you so, so much. you’re the coolest kid.”

the boy complies, coming off the ice and taking off his gear, handing each piece to his younger sister. “i was scared you’d be mad at me.”

you see megan’s face wrinkle in concern. she shakes her head, reaching down to give the little boy a tight, comforting hug.

“never ever. i love you with my whole heart. i can’t wait to buy you all the books in the world, dude,” she reassures him, nodding. “go give your sister your gear. your mom is waiting.”

you smile and reach out to your son, handing him his hoodie. he swipes it up eagerly and takes your hand, beaming excitedly.

“i heard you’ve been practicing on your own,” megan says as she kneels down, focusing now on helping josie put on all the gear. it’s a size too big, but it’ll do. “you ready to show me what you can do?”

“really?” josie’s eyes light up.

“these boys are bigger than you are,” megan warns, but she doesn’t sound worried. she sounds eager, proud. “think you can keep up?”

“yes,” the girl nods eagerly.

“go show off,” she encourages, giving josie a push on the ice to send her towards the practice. “but no backflips! you’ll give me a heart attack.”

“boring,” she gripes, skating off.

you can’t help but laugh.

“she’s going to kill me,” megan groans, pinching the bridge of her nose.

you poke her in the cheek, letting max rest on the bench for a moment.

“she’s karma for every single time you lashed out at one of your teammates. remember senior year?”

“yeah. alright, alright,” megan waves you off, rolling her eyes, but she pulls you in to give you a quick peck. you both watch as she boldly joins the drill as if she’s been doing it for years, quickly handling the stick and the puck with a confidence unmatched by most of the boys on the team.

“she’s a natural,” you beam proudly.

megan lets out a low whistle. “better than i was my first time on the ice.”

“i’ve always said she’s just a less anxious version of you,” you smile. “right down to the puppy dog eyes.”

megan grins back, wrapping an arm around your waist. “you love these puppy dog eyes.”

you look into those puppy dog eyes, the things that drew you in when you first met her, and the things you’re pretty sure were the first part of megan that you fell in love with, before the rest of her fell right into place inside your heart.

“being just like you won’t be the worst thing in the world, meg,” you tell her gently, you both watching as josie blasts past the other boys on the ice, handling the puck with unimaginable expertise.

“at least college is paid for,” megan wrinkles her nose, letting out a sigh. “who knows. maybe some sucker will get roped into giving her their english class notes.”

“and then they fall in love with each other and become college sweethearts. and survive long distance, and get married. and have a super cute family with two kids and a crusty white dog,” you add on, wrapping your arms around her waist to pull her into a hug.

“i got super lucky,” megan breathes, finally turning to look down at you.

“yes you did,” you grin back up at her.

“i love you,” she tells you, kissing your forehead tenderly.

you admire her perfect face, looking back at your perfect daughter and your perfect son. your perfect little family, something you could have never pictured when you first met megan in your british literature class all those years ago.

you smile, reaching up for one more kiss.

“ditto.”

#☆ﾟ coolwyous ditto.#☆ﾟ dittoverse thoughts.#megan katseye #megan x reader #megan skiendiel x reader #katseye x reader #katseye #katseye megan

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3sriracha · 1 day ago

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I’m only 25 and the amount of grief I have been through is enough for a lifetime and it is the same for so many people around the world. Some much younger than I have been through more and much worse. I still have much more to experience and I dread it every day. Life is not fair and like op said most of it is grief. It’s true and I agree wholeheartedly. Yet what I have come to realize is that that grief shows you how truly wonderful moments in life can be. You just have to accept them when they find you. That is how you survive and live a good life while you do it.

The sun shining on your face.

A soft breeze brushing your cheek.

Snow gently kissing your nose.

The laughter of those you love.

A good meal.

The calming sound of rain.

A good book, film, or song.

Couples in love.

Friendship.

A good moment alone to simply breathe.

Memories. They are what make up our lives.

Beauty and good moments are everywhere around us all the time. Even in our grief. They are still hard to find because they only come to us when we are ready to accept them. At least that is what I have found.

i don’t think people understand how much of life is grief. not just people dying, but losing the version of yourself you thought you’d become. grieving the city you had to leave. the friends you lost not in argument, but in silence. the summer that will never come back. the feeling that maybe you peaked at 12 when you were reading books under the covers and believing in forever

#3sriracha thoughts #3sriracha feels #I struggle to find them in my grief constantly #but those I have lost and are grieving send them my way when I am ready #I try to do the same for others because we are all grieving and could use some good moments

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pitchsidestories · 1 day ago

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Three weddings and one new love II Patri Guijarro x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 2169

summary: Patri and Reader cross paths at three weddings. Each meeting brings them closer, but is it enough for something real to begin?

author's note: hi, like everyone else, we absolutely loved all the woso weddings and inspiration struck. We hope you enjoy the fanfic that came from it. <3

disclaimer: everything in this fanfiction is purely fictional and nothing corresponds to reality.

Lola and Cristina’s wedding was in full swing.

“Patri, do you remember her?” Leila’s question was innocent enough, but when the midfielder caught sight of you, she nearly choked on the champagne she’d been sipping.

Of course, Patri remembered. How could she not? But somehow, you were even more beautiful than she’d allowed herself to recall.

Noticing the brunette’s stunned expression, you laughed, light and effervescent, like the bubbles rising in your glass: “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Nice to see you again. It’s been a while.”, Patri said, recovering quickly. The midfielder felt the warmth rising to her cheeks. Normally, she was cooler, more composed. She blamed the heat. And the drinks.

“It’s nice to see you too.”, you replied, a soft smile on your lips.

“Are you enjoying the party so far?”, the Barcelona player asked, her voice casual, but her eyes lingering just a little too long.

“I do. What about you? I really like your dress.”, you said.

The sleeveless black dress hugged her figure effortlessly, the ink of her tattoos accentuating her sun-warmed skin.

Patri tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous smile playing on her lips: “Oh, thank you.” She paused, gesturing vaguely. “And yeah, Lola and Cristina know how to throw a party.”

You took a moment to absorb the atmosphere. Laughter drifted through the garden, and even usually composed Alexia was dancing in her pink dress, barefoot and carefree, with the bride.

“I’m not usually a fan of weddings, but this one’s something special.”, you confessed.

Patri grinned: “That’s a big compliment, then. Can I get you another drink?”

“Oh. Yes, please.”, you responded, returning her smile.

Like a true gentlewoman, she returned with fresh drinks for you both, gently clinking her glass against yours. “Cheers.” “Cheers.”

“It’s really beautiful.”, Patri murmured, her eyes scanning the joyful chaos unfolding around you.

You followed her gaze. The couple radiated happiness, surrounded by friends, laughter and the soft golden light of early evening.

Knowing them as well as you did, especially Lola, the goalkeeper who’d stood by you when everything in your career was falling apart, you felt a quiet swell of emotion. “I agree.”, you said, your voice low.

Patri turned to you, a playful tilt to her head:” Would you like to dance?”

Her brown eyes caught yours, deep and steady, and something warm unfurled in your chest. You hesitated, nerves fluttering at the edges.

“Oh, um… sure,” you nodded, speaking almost to yourself.

As you stepped onto the dance floor, the DJ smoothly shifted from a fast rhythm to a slow, melodic song. You both paused, smiling, a little shy, a little amused, before stepping closer.

Her hand found yours, and the space between you disappeared. The movement was easy, natural, like you’d rehearsed it without knowing. There was no need to speak, your bodies seemed to anticipate each other, flowing in quiet synchrony.

The moment, soft and perfect, was suddenly broken by the arrival of Irene, her expression tight with concern.

You watched as Patri’s eyebrows knotted together, looking over to her teammate.

“Patri? Can you help me find Mateo?”, Irene asked, the slightest hint of panic in her voice.

“I…”, Patri hesitated, looking back and forth between you and Irene until she nodded firmly: “Yeah, sure.”

She offered you an apologetic smile: “Sorry.”

You waved her off casually: “It’s fine. I need to check on Andrea, anyway, looks like she had enough to drink.”

With a final wry smile, Patri disappeared into the crowd. She eventually found Mateo several minutes later, sitting calmly beneath a table, hidden by the tablecloth and happily playing with his toy cars. The relief on Irenes face when she saw her son was immeasurable.

Happy to have been of help, Patri returned to where she left you earlier but you were gone.

“Ale? Do you have y/n’s number?”, she asked Alexia who was seated on a table nearby, sipping white wine.

She raised her eyebrows as she took another sip: “I don’t. Why?”

“I…”, Patri started. But what was she supposed to say? That she couldn’t find you after circling the parameter of the big yard three times already. That she felt something between you two and didn’t understand why you had just left?

Before she could find the right words, Leila chimed in, her eyes lighting up with excitement: “You want to see her again?!”

“Yeah?”, Patri answered carefully.

This caused Alexia shoot her a knowing, slightly pitying look. Patri wished she hadn’t even asked at all.

Summer break meant wedding season in the womens football world, so the next ceremony was only a couple days later. It felt like the celebrations were never-ending. But you weren’t complaining, not when it gave you another excuse to wear something fancy.

You were stuck in some small-talk with two men you didn’t know, and it quickly became clear that they were more interested in each other’s opinions than anything you had to say. You stood there politely, twirling the stem of your champagne flute between your fingers and pretending to listen. At least until a bright red jumpsuit caught your attention.

It was Patri, smiling carefully as she walked towards you.

You smiled back at her, grateful to have an excuse to leave the one-sided conversation: “You again. I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here.”

“Hi, I didn’t know you knew the brides.”, Patri greeted you and as she took in your uncovered arms added: “… or that you had any tattoos.”

You smirked at her, catching the way her gaze lingered on your body: “Wow, you underestimate me, Guijarro.”

“I did. I thought…”, she started, her cheeks turning pink.

“You thought I was just the girl next door? I feel like I should be offended.”, you teased, leaning in with a grin.

Clearing her throat, the midfielder defended herself: “I didn’t mean that.”

“I know.”, you said quickly, hoping to ease her visible nervousness.

Biting her lip, Patri murmured an apology.

“Yours are really pretty.”, you admitted, lightly tracing the inked lines on her upper arm with your finger. Was this still just friendly chatter between guests, or had it already tipped into flirting? You suspected the latter. You couldn’t help it, the banter between you was too good to resist.

Under your attention, she muttered: “Oh, thanks.”

“Although the tiger might be a bit cheesy.”, you added with a wink.

Pretending to be offended, the brunette shot back: “What? No, it’s cool.”

You chuckled: “Uh-huh.”

Then the mood shifted. A memory surfaced, the last wedding where you’d seen her, and how abruptly it had ended. Your voice softened: “Sorry for vanishing like some kind of Cinderella the last time we saw each other.”

“Is that a thing you do?”, Patri asked, her tone cautious. She didn’t want to be hurt again. The feeling of being left behind was still raw, it hadn’t been a few days ago.

You shook your head.: “Vanishing and leaving a pretty girl behind? No, usually not. At least, not on purpose.”

“So, I don’t have to be scared you’ll disappear again?” she questioned, watching you hopefully.

“No, I won’t do that.” You smiled, heart open. “You want me to stay?”

“I do.”, Patri confirmed, her voice barely a whisper. “I even asked the others for your number.”

“You did?”

Here was the thing, you had all played for the national team together. But after you left for England and refused any further call-ups, not much in the Spanish federation had truly changed. Just fragments. Bits and pieces. And there was still so much left to be desired. Which meant, of course, that none of her football friends would have your contact details.

“I can give you mine now,” you offered, pulling a pen from your small bag and scribbling your number on her arm.

“Thanks,” she responded softly.

“You’re welcome. I’m rarely in Spain these days, but I’m here most summers.”, you explained.

Nervously, she glanced at you, her voice quiet as she hinted at the dance you never got to finish last time: “That’s... fine. I just still owe you a dance.”

“You should do that now,” you replied with a smirk, nodding towards the dance floor. “One of my favourite songs is playing.”

Patri shrugged as if this opportunity was as good as any: “Okay, then.”

You took her hand in yours and led her onto the dance floor.

The music surrounded you both as you started to sway. Patri’s hands settled naturally on your waist, guiding your movements with the rhythm of her own body. She moved smoothly, like water. Almost like the way she played football, you thought.

“You’re surprisingly good at this.”, you smirked.

Patri smiled, lifting an eyebrow: “Surprisingly, huh?”

“Yeah, I mean you’re maestro on the field but the dance floor is very far from a pitch.”, you teased, biting your lip.

She tilted her head, considering for a moment and then said with a slightly challenging tone: “Can’t I be both?”

Her face was so close to yours now, the sunlight catching in her deep brown eyes.

“You can be even more than that.”, you murmured, your gaze locked on her.

You knew she stared at your lips. You waited for her to lean in. Maybe she was waiting for you too. The kiss never came.

And then the moment was gone. You had to leave right after this dance, but you had no idea how much chaos your exit would leave behind.

Later that night, with the music still playing and drinks still flowing, a fine sprinkle of rain began to fall over the wedding and Alexia came running towards her friend group, her high heels dangling from her fingers: “Olga! Leila! Patri is crying… and she won’t tell me why!”

They found her outside, sitting on the venue steps, quietly sobbing and mascara smudging underneath her eyes.

Leila crouched down beside her: “What happened?”

“I had her number but it vanished… just like her.”, Patri sniffed, pointing towards the fading writing on her arm that was almost completely washed away by a mix of sweat and rain.

“Aw, cariño…”, Olga sighed, brushing strands of hair out of Patris face.

“It’s okay. I’m sure we can get her number somehow.”, Leila said softly.

“Promise.”, Olga added, squeezing her shoulder.

Patri wiped her eyes and looked up to them. The crying had finally stopped.

The third wedding was Laia’s. Just as beautiful as the last two ceremonies and with a lot of familiar faces on the guest list.

When you walked in, you noticed one table right away.

“Patri. Get up and stop pouting.”, Ona ordered, elbowing her in the ribs.

Patri was seated next to her, frowning into her champagne glass.

“She’s here!”

“Stop messing with me.”, the midfielder muttered, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

Unmoved by her teammate’s theatrics, Ona gave a half-smile: “I’m not. She and Laia go way back to their Atlético days. So come on now.”

Patri’s head shot up: “Wait, are you serious?”

With a sigh, Ona grabbed her arm and gently tugged her to her feet. She turned her toward the other side of the courtyard, where you stood talking to the bride, laughing in the golden dusk.

“I am.”, Ona said simply.

Laia’s voice rang out beside you, warm and sure. She rested her arm on your shoulder: “I hope you’ll come visit me in Barcelona soon.”

You smiled, hugging her close: “Of course I will.” The promise was meant for her, but when your eyes flicked past her shoulder and found the one woman you'd seen at the last two weddings, your heart quietly wondered if the promise might stretch to her too.

Beaming, Laia announced: “I’ll go find my husband.”

“Okay.”

Their happiness was contagious, easy, natural. It was beautiful to see someone you’d known so long marry the man who had cried the moment she stepped into view at the ceremony.

You and Laia shared one last hug. Then, as you turned, you almost stumbled straight into Patri.

“Oh, hi.”, you mumbled, nerves fluttering in your chest.

“Hey.”, she replied, calm on the outside, though her heart was pounding. Three weddings. Third time’s the charm, maybe this was the moment, like in all the films and books.

You gestured toward the happy couple: “Laia and I were just talking, I’ve got to visit her in Barcelona soon.”

“Yeah,” Patri said. “It’s great to have her back.”

You nodded. “You lot are lucky.”

“We are.”

You hesitated, searching her face: “What if I want to see you too, not just Laia?”

Her expression lit up, hope blooming across her pretty face: “You want to visit me?”

“Yeah.” You smiled. “I really do.”

“I’d like that.”, Patri answered, and stepped a little closer. She kissed your cheek soft, deliberate, her lips brushing just a little too close to yours.

Three weddings and maybe, this was the first chapter of your own little love story.

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