#Writing 𝜗𝜚˚ !

[norristeria]

Catching Strays ! LN04

SUMMARY 𝄡 There's a stray child in the McLaren garage, and of course, Lando is the one who has to deal with it.

PAIRING 𝄡 Lando Norris x Single Mother! FemReader

TAGS 𝄡 Fluff.

WORDCOUNT 𝄡 1k.

NOTE 𝄡 The cutest thing I've ever written ( yet ). This drabble is about another pairing I had in mind... <33

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

Something tugged at Lando’s race suit.

Amid the paddock frenzy, that subtle touch⏤so gentle he first thought he’d imagined it⏤startled him enough to abandon his pre-race ritual.

He looked down.

And found himself nose-to-nose with a pair of big amber eyes.

Lando blinked.

The child blinked back.

“What the—?” he murmured before crouching to her level. “What are you doing here, muppet? Where are your parents?”

She let go of his leg, stuffed her fist into her mouth—long enough for drool to glisten down her chin and wrist—and dropped onto the ground with a soft oomph.

She smacked her lips a few times—undoubtedly mimicking someone—and then clapped her hands, giggling.

“Mama!”

Lando cast a desperate glance around him, but the engineers and mechanics paid him no mind, wholly absorbed in their final adjustments to the car.

“I don’t know where your mama is.”

He ran a hand through his curls as stress began to rise. The girl looked at him with wide, hopeful eyes, only fuelling the tsunami building in his chest.

Of course it had to happen to him.

“Well... what am I supposed to do with you now?”

For a fleeting moment, he considered calling Oscar, who was probably still holed up in his room, but the Aussie driver was just as hopeless in situations like this—if not worse. His mother’s face flashed through his mind, and he suppressed a shiver at the thought of her scolding him.

That’s when he noticed it.

Tucked between the girl’s overalls and t-shirt, a lanyard.

Carefully, Lando pulled it free and let out a sigh of relief when he saw the pass. He flipped it over, softened momentarily at the ID photo, and read the name printed in bold.

“Apolline L/N? Well, at least we know you're not a paddock intruder, muppet.”

She giggled as if she understood him, then tipped forward—still figuring out her balance, clearly. Lando caught her before she hit the ground, muttering a quiet thanks for his fast reflexes.

As he resumed reading, he absentmindedly rubbed her back. Shaken by her near tumble, she had settled her head against his chest, sucking on her thumb.

Apolline L/N VIP ACCESS A guest of: SCUDERIA FERRARI

“Well, I guess your mama’s probably over at Ferrari. What do you say, Apolline?” He leaned back to meet her gaze. “Shall we go for a walk?”

He stood, a child in his arms and tiny fingers clinging to his fireproofs.

Together, they set off.

Eyes lingered on the duo as they passed by. Whispers soon followed. What was Lando Norris doing with a small girl in his arms? Was that his sister? His daughter from a past fling?

He could already imagine the headlines, always eager to twist the narrative. Watching warily as a cameraman aimed his lens at them, he tucked Apolline's head into his neck and tightened his embrace before quickening his pace.

He passed Williams, then Mercedes—ignoring George’s raised eyebrow—and finally stopped in front of the red garage.

The usual Monaco frenzy took on a different flavour here. Lando could almost taste the tension soaked into every inch of the garage.

Ferrari wasn’t swept up in Monaco mania, no; they were drowning in Chaos.

A Charles in full race gear paced, his phone pressed to his ear, while a flustered Alexandra—so far removed from her usual elegance—tried to comfort a woman in tears.

Her sobs drowned out the frantic conversations of the team, whose faces all wore the same expression: that of pure dread.

In his arms, Apolline began to wriggle.

“Mama!”

At the sound, the woman spun around. She tore herself from Alexandra’s arms and ran to Lando.

The latter remained frozen as he took in the woman before him. His eyes darted between her sparkling gaze and her intoxicating mouth. They would have travelled further down—drawn to the delicious lines of her figure in that dress—had she not spoken, brows furrowed.

“May I have my daughter back?”

Her French accent nearly made him faint.

“What? Your daughter… Oh—uh—yeah! Of course!” he stammered. “She’s yours. Right. Obviously.”

Clumsily, he transferred Apolline into her mother’s arms. She hugged the girl tightly before setting her down and checking her over.

“Mon ange! You scared me to death! Don't ever do that again. If you want to go wandering, we’ll go together. Understood?”

The little girl just laughed, unfazed by the turmoil she’d caused, and dashed off into the garage. Lando watched her wrap herself around Alexandra’s legs, and then—

Vanilla.

Lando instinctively hugged the woman back. He buried his nose in her hair and breathed in the sweet scent as his hands tightened on her back.

“Thank you,” she whispered with the kind of gratitude only a mother could convey.

When she stepped back, Lando was already mourning the warmth of her body against his. Flushing, he rubbed the back of his neck to chase the thought away and shrugged.

Control yourself, she has a child.

“It’s nothing. Anyone would’ve done the same.”

“Still. It means a lot.”

She offered her hand.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Lando.”

Alexandra called her over. Y/N gave him a small, apologetic smile—one that did something strange to his chest—and turned to walk away, tossing a final “thank you” over her shoulder.

Lando stayed there, a little dazed.

A throat cleared, breaking the spell.

Fred Vasseur stood in front of him with his arms crossed and one eyebrow raised. Only then did Lando realize half the garage was staring at him.

Knowing he had overstayed his welcome, he turned on his heel and headed back toward the McLaren garage—but not without grabbing Charles by the collar. The Monegasque struggled against his hold before freezing as Lando leaned in and whispered:

“Give me Y/N’s number, or I’m crashing into you at turn one, constructors’ championship be damned.”

[qiyuearning]

your first time with caleb and he is so, so… how can he even describe it?

“you’re— you’re— i can’t even . . . ohmygod? just wow.” he says all in one breath, eyes struggling to focus on just one part of you. his hands hover just over your torso, tracing the air over eager skin. he doesn’t know if he can handle even a second more of this. is he dreaming right now? is he allowed to?

god, let him have this. finally, his hands find their way to your hips, slender fingers flexing against smooth curves. he could feel your body pressed against his, warm and solid. real.

he always had a snarky quip or a teasing remark to lighten the mood, but right now, all that escapes his lips is an uncharacteristically pathetic sound he doesn’t mean to let slip.

“pip— you’re gorgeous. i mean you’re always gorgeous! o-obviously. always have been,” he sputters, his breathing almost erratic as he chastises himself in an attempt to chase after what little shred of common sense and control he has left. “can i? i mean, will you let me . . . ? no— god, if i could just—“

caleb babbles perhaps a million things per minute—prayers most likely, so fast that it makes your head spin. it isn’t until he feels your touch on his chest that he calms down, your hand warm and solid. real.

“slow down.” you sigh from your place in his lap. he looks like he’s about to burst into tears— or flames. “use your words, caleb.”

he was a man on the edge, a man finally acknowledging his need. his lips found the sensitive spot on your collarbone, teeth scraping against tender flesh lightly.

he looks at you for further permission, a violet gaze that is screaming please, please, please, let me have this. hesitantly, he places an experimental kiss along your jaw. then one to your lips. then another, and another until he can’t remember a feeling that could ever be better than this. it’s desperate, rushed, and a little clumsy, a culmination of years spent holding back.

“. . . words are the last thing on my mind right now, pipsqueak.”

he feels the heat of your body through the thin fabric of your clothes, the weight of your thighs pressed against his. his fingers find the edge of your shirt, slipping underneath to ghost over your skin. his touch is both gentle and possessive, as if claiming something long overdue as his.

[isasweetie]

in which you’re forced into having a talk with your ex-boyfriend, rafe cameron, on the boat ride to morocco.

being a pogue and rafe cameron’s ex was not easy. although you dated shortly before he killed peterkin, and you were sure he barely even remembered your favourite colour, seeing him blatanly disrespect you and his friends, and go down a path you tried so hard to prevent him from, was hard to watch. but now he’s picked himself up since ward died. you thought you had another chance to at least be on good terms. sending flowers and a card to tanneyhill when ward died, smiling at him when you’d see him around. it didn’t work, he still hated you and your friends.

fortunately, he redeemed himself ever so slightly by volunteering to take the pogues to morocco. rafe had to find chandler groff, you guys wanted the blue crown. it was perfect.

until jj punched him, that is. he knocked him out cold. with a scolding “jj!” coming from majority of the pogues, including you, jj carries him down into the downstairs washroom and ties his wrists to a pole. they don’t trust him, which is fair. you don’t either — you shouldn’t, anyway.

rafe was down there quietly for a mere half hour until he woke up with a groan from his head hitting the ground earlier, followed up with yelling once he realizes he was stuck down there.

all touching your noses and saying ‘not it’ the minute pope suggests someone going down there to check on him, you’re the unlucky one who said it last. shutting up your protests, john b gently coaxes you downstairs, saying things like, “you used to mack on him”, “this is good, you know him”, “he won’t hurt you,” john b leaves you downstairs once you make it to the door of the bathroom. knocking gently, you timidly ask, “can i come in?”

there’s no answer. you can picture him. wrists tied, brows furrowed, eyes closed tightly as his head leans against the wall and towards the ceiling. his gorgeous stressed face. you slowly open the door, peeking your head in. “hi,” you say gently, timid around the scary and aggressive man you have the curse of calling your ex.

“…hey,” rafe says, voice rough as he shuts his eyes tight.

unsure what to say, you awkwardly stand there and stare down at him. “um, i brought asprin,”

“right, right, like i can fuckin’ swallow it. what, you gonna throw it in my mouth like a.. seal or something?” sassy, his upper lip lifts a bit as he thinks about it and isn’t very fond of the idea.

a second of silence as you figure out what to say. “…um, ill just set it down here,” you say, putting the container down beside him. “sorry about your head.”

“yeah, uh, your little boyfriend can’t control his fists, huh?”

“…not my boyfriend,” you correct softly, though you’re not sure why you feel the need to tell him that. “but no one really.. trusts you, rafe, so you kind of brought this on yourself—“

he quickly interrupts you. “bullshit. you know why that’s bullshit? because i was helping. who got you this boat, huh? me. i did. rafe. i’m the reason that you guys aren’t swimming, or some shit, to north africa. i’m being helpful and understanding, and this is what i get. you think that’s fair?” when you’re stood there in silence at his sudden raised voice, he repeats, “you think that’s fucking fair, y/n!?” he kicks a can in anger.

it’s like you’re his girlfriend again as you sit down next to him instantly instead of running. you get deja vu to the time three years ago when he was high on coke and got kicked out of the house. everyone ignored him except for you. “..um, okay, i’m gonna give you some asprin,” you say softly. “help your head. open,” you tell him, grabbing a pill as he gives you a look but opens his mouth. you pop it in his mouth and he dry swallows. “there.”

you two share a look. you don’t think it’s a bad look by any means. he looks frustrated still, but there’s an underlying gentleness in his eyes, as if he registers you’re still the same girl you were when you two were together. “…and, um, for the record, i don’t think it’s fair that you’re down here. you helped us, thats.. nice.”

the word ‘us’ when referring to you and the pogues makes him feel weird. “i don’t get why you hang out with them,” he mutters as he looks at the ground. “tried so fucking hard to keep you away from them when we were.. together.”

“i know,” you whisper, your gaze dropping as well, to his tied wrists. you feel awful. “trust me, your warnings still play in my head when i’m with them sometimes,”

“you remind me of sarah.” he says. you’re not sure what that means.

“you hate sarah,”

“nah, nah— i don’t hate her. hate who she’s turned into,” he adjusts himself. “she makes me sad. i’m sad for her, alright? she had so much potential.“ he shrugs. “but there’s no saving her. she’s in too deep,” he looks back up at you again. “i think there’s saving you, though,”

“…this is weird, rafe,”

“how?” he asks.

“because in the years we’ve been broken up, you’ve never talked to me about this. feels like it’s a… trick or something,”

“it’s not a trick,” he assures, voice still rough. “look, i’m out half a mill, i’m tied up in a bathroom, i’m probably gonna.. die or something. i got nothing to lose, may as well tell you my concern,”

“um, i appreciate it,” you say gently, unsure how to respond. “and i’m gonna go back upstairs.”

“hey— no, woah, woah, woah,” he stops you quickly. “stay. okay?”

“i should go up and help with dinner, though—“

“no, stay. i— i want you to stay, okay? i don’t wanna be down here alone, and i want you away from the pogues,”

he doesn’t wanna be alone. you feel bad for him all over again, nodding gently as you sit back down beside him. you always were so good for rafe.

you’re not sure how long you’ll be down here with him. maybe until it’s late at night and he’s asleep. so gently, after about five minutes of silence, to ease some of the tension and pass the time, you murmur a, “truth or dare?”

rafe just smiles.

[loganspet]

౨ৎ ‎ ♡₊˚・₊✧ I’m Imagining a extremely submissive Logan 🤍 ౨ৎ ‎ ♡₊˚・₊✧

Sprawled out, his hair a wild, messy framing his flushed face. His chest rises and falls erratically, each shaky breath betraying how undone he’s become. His Adam’s apple bobs with every hard swallow, the motion drawing your attention as his throat works through a plea he’s too proud to fully voice.

“Please,” he whines , voice raw, a mix of frustration and desperation. His dark, heavy-lidded eyes lock onto yours, glinting with something feral, something needy. They roam over you like he can’t decide where to focus, lingering just long enough to make your skin burn under the weight of his gaze. His lips are swollen, slick from where he’s been nervously biting and licking at them, the sharp edge of his teeth catching faintly in the dim light.

He shifts beneath you, his body trembling as he fights against the vulnerability, his pride warring with the primal need etched across his features. His hips twitch slightly, seeking relief but unable to find it, his hands still gripping the sheets like they’re the only thing tethering him to reality. The way his fingers flex and curl betrays how much he’s struggling to keep from losing himself completely.

“Baby don’t… tease me,” he whimpered through clenched words come out slurred, a little broken, but there’s no mistaking the desperation behind them. It lingers in the way his breath catches mid-sentence, how his lips curl just slightly around the words as though it pains him to say them out loud. His Adam’s apple bobs again when he swallows hard, his messy hair falling over his forehead, casting shadows across his face. His eyes flicker between defiance and surrender, his chest heaving as his breath catches, a strangled sound slipping from his throat.

“You’re killing me,” he groans, his voice rough and slurred, thick with the weight of his surrender. His gaze locks onto yours, dark and smoldering, like he’s trying to burn this moment into his memory.

“Just… take care of me, baby please” Logan says again, eyebrows furrowed the words trembling as they leave his lips, less a command and more a plea, steeped in desperation and trust. “Oh, God,” continued oh my gods him a broken record that sent shivers down your spine. His head fell back, his hips faster, harder, completely losing any rhythm in his desperation as he chased that release. His hand, already gripping yours, tightened, fingers interlocking with yours, his grasp growing harder with each movement, each frantic push. The pressure of his grip was almost enough to bruise, but he couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t pull away. His need was consuming him.

“You feel so damn good,” he growled his accent bleeding through and making the confession even more intoxicating. His dark, half-lidded eyes locked onto yours, pupils blown wide, a flicker of frustration mingling with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him.

His body trembled, a thin sheen of sweat clinging to his skin, his muscles taut as if straining against the intensity of it all. Every motion, every sound he made was desperate, primal, like he couldn’t hold anything back even if he tried. “Goddamn it,” he spoke again, the words barely audible, swallowed by the heat of the moment. There’s nothing left of , his body trembling as he gives himself over to you completely.

[777sturn]

⟢ 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 | 𝐦att 𝐬turniolo

no plot. smutty smut. pet names (baby, princess). oral (f receiving). touching. fingering (f receiving). boob play. dirty talk. pussydrunk!matt

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ jules’ message. hi cuties merry christmas! this has no plot whatsoever so this will just get straight into it help 😭😭 first ever blurb kinda nervous

“oh my fuck.” you moan softly as your freshly done, french-tipped, nails ran against matt’s scalp and through his brown hair. your eyes were tightly shut as his mouth explored your soft pussy.

“mmm, baby.” he would mumble softly against your wet clit, his tongue darting out to teasingly swipe along your folds— your moans becoming a melody to his ears, “i could do this all fucking night.”

this man was pussy drunk.

as his tongue continued to praise your sore clit by soothing it, his silver ring adorned fingers messed with the delicate lace of your baby pink panties. the cooling effect of those damn rings would occasionally brush against your warm, soft, vanilla scented skin— each time a whimper would escape your lips.

his hands eventually went underneath the white floral tank top you were wearing, finding the same delicate lace of your bra that matched your panties. he smirked against your pussy as his slight stubble brushed over one of your wet folds. his fingers continued to travel under your lacy bra this time, one of his cold rings meeting your hardened nipple.

another soft whimper escaped your glossed lips as your right hand grabbed onto his tatted bicep to somewhat keep yourself together. his thumb and forefinger gently teased your nipple by rolling it, “does that feel good, princess?” he mumbles, his voice breathless and raspy from the excessiveness of everything.

you only manage to nod, feeling like if you used a single word, you’d be losing it. his hand continued to massage your now aching breasts. his mouth finished soothing your cunt before, gently and swiftly taking off the tank top, leaving you in your matching set.

“so fuckin’ beautiful.” he mutters as he dipped his head to the crook of your neck. he peppered soft and gentle kisses along your pulse point and on the sides before gently sucking to create faint red marks. his lips continued the path of red marks on the top of you breasts. as he continued, his hands found their way to the clasp of your bra. he immediately took it off to expose your full tits.

“all mine, baby.” he whispers, before capturing on of your hardened nipples into his mouth. he softly tugged before soothing the stinging sensation with his tongue. his fingers were now in your wet clit that he was praising before, “so good for me.” he whispered, his fingers began to pump teasingly.

“just like that, matt.” you manage to whimper out once more, “fuck.”

“i’m gonna make you feel so fucking good, princess.”

© 777sturn

[mattscoquette]

DIET PEPSI — MATT STURNIOLO

in which .. you mess around with your neighbor matt in his car

smut, virgin!goodgirl!reader, kinda bad boy!matt, fingering, dirty talk, car sex, pet names, age gap (reader is 17 matt is 19)

1.7k words

cool spring air breezes in through the cracked windows of matt’s old school cadillac parked in an abandoned playground as he’s got you spread across the leather seats, your pink dress hiked up to your waist and his jeans lost in the front seat. soft whines leave your lips as matt’s rough and calloused hands smooth over the skin of your thighs, gently spreading them apart to display your soaked panties to him. a smile tugs across his pink lips, feeling smug about getting you that wet from just a little dirty talk and kissing, although it was out of your control. you were seventeen, and didn’t have any real boy experiences. a couple elementary school crushes, whispered secrets in the hallways of junior high about boys who liked you. but never real. never in the backseat of your next door neighbor’s car while he’s kissing up your stomach.

you hear him laugh across your skin as he trails his wet kisses closer and closer to your sternum, your lower half exposed from the easy access of your lace and cotton dress. “awe baby,” you hear him whisper in between the wet smacks of his kisses, “getting so worked up for me.”

you moaned softly, threading your fingers through his brown hair. “can’t help it,” you said quietly, “feels good.”

he pulled away, a lopsided smile on his face as he smirks down at you. matt’s always had a little thing for you ever since he saw you across the street when he was ten and you were eight. he’d thought you were the prettiest girl in the neighborhood - which to his ten year old self was the whole world - and he knew he wanted you. as he got older, matt’s reputation had dwindled, hanging with the wrong groups in school, constantly getting himself into unwarranted trouble. he knew you were supposed to stay away from him, your parents rules. they kept you sheltered away from him, going as far to make sure you both aren’t bringing the trash to the curb at the same time. he laughed to himself, imagining their reactions to finding out he had their sweet little girl at his mercy in the back seat of his car.

he leaned down, gently holding your jaw in between his index and thumb, pulling your lips in close to his. “you wanna feel really good?” he asked almost inaudible, blue eyes flicking between your parted lips and doe eyes. “because i know how to make you feel really really good.”

your eyes scrunched together, feeling yourself get wetter from his words alone. you rapidly nodded, breathing out a soft “yes” as matt chuckled, leaning down to kiss you hastily with an open mouth.

you whined, kissing him back as you tried to keep up with his pace, his mouth moving expertly against yours as he swallowed all your pretty sounds. his hand that rested on the car door above you slowly crept down, running down the curves of your soft skin, smiling as you shuddered at the touch. his large hands caressing your stomach, gently keeping you held down as you squirmed underneath his touch.

“pretty, pretty girl,” he praised as he broke away from your lips, sucking and biting his way down your neck, leaving his sinful marks across your delicate skin, “so fucking pretty.”

your chest was on fire from his praise, loving the way the compliments spilled so effortlessly from his mouth. he left hickeys and kiss marks all along the collarbone and the valley of your breasts, claiming you as his. you moaned quietly while he began to suck a mark into the cleavage of your boobs, groaning at the taste of your skin. “so fucking good,” you hear him sigh from in between your tits, his face buried, lips and tongue mouthing at the plush skin.

he pulls away, almost looking as if he were drunk off the tase of your skin alone. his blue eyes are dark as his chain dangles above your face, the silver metal swinging back and forth. he studies your expression, as innocent as ever, before sitting back on his knees and smirking. his gaze falls to your legs that are still open, your panties on full display for him. his hands grip your calfs, gently pushing them back to keep your knees pinned up as he shuffles himself around to be sitting right in between your pretty little spread legs. his hands delicately caress the skin of your thighs before he begins talking to you.

“look at you,” he whispers, “all grown up and in the back of my car.”

you almost squirm at his touch, your body on fire everywhere his fingers graze. you look up at him, eyes desperate while he simply smiles down at you. “please,” you manage to rasp out.

his smirk widens, an eyebrow cocked up. “please what? you’re a smart girl, i know you can use your words.” a whine leaves your lips in response, every syllable you want to say getting caught in your throat as matt’s hand inch closer and closer to your heat. “tell me what you want beautiful, ‘m not a mind reader.”

your eyes scrunch up in pleasure as matt’s fingers teasingly run along the band on the underside of your panties, his fingers right next to where you needed him. you swallowed, trying again. “please,” you whispered, “make me feel good.”

he laughed darkly from above you, slipping a finger into your panties, his long slender digits moving up and down your folds. “you want me to make you feel good?”

you nodded, not trusting your voice to speak. he looked to you for permission, and grinned as he saw your head bobbing up and down. he slowly removed your cotton underwear, pulling it off your legs delicately before stuffing the material into his back pocket.

he peered down at your glistening folds, reaching out to touch softly. “look how pretty you are,” he mused underneath his breath, running his fingers along your wetness achingly slow, “all this f’me?”

“mm - shit - yeah,” you breathed, the sensation of matt’s fingers down there something you had never felt before. your cheeks burned a bright pink as matt continued to tease you, your already soaked pussy leaking as he kept on talking.

“i’m gonna make you feel amazing, got it sweetheart?” he told you as his other hand slowly slid down your knee and caressed your stomach. “and i want you let me know that it’s good. you can do that for me, yeah?”

“yeah, mhmm, got it.” you blabbered, just waiting for him to do something. you were about to open your mouth to speak, an airy moan leaving your lips instead as matt pushed a finger inside of you. he smiled at the sounds you were making, little moans and gaps, as he fully pushed his middle finger in and out of you slowly.

you were an absolute mess, matt knew it too, and he had barely done anything yet. you bit your bottom lip, whining slightly as he continuously moved his fingers in and out, quickening the pace as the other hand gently pulled your lip from your teeth. “don’t hold back,” matt told you huskily, “be loud. wanna hear you.”

your jaw fell slack as you looked up at his smirking face, moaning loudly as his finger began to curl up inside of you, hitting a spot you didn’t even know was there. he continued his ministrations, grinning to himself as he watched you fall apart in the backseat.

“gonna add another one, can you handle it?” the brunette spoke, his voice sounding far away as you were too far gone in your pleasure. you weren’t sure if you nodded or spoke, your mind a complete haze as matt stuck his ring finger in as well, moving in and out of you faster than he had before.

“matt,” you gasped, your hands reaching up to hold onto him for support. his long fingers curled up inside of you, repeatedly hitting the sweet spot that made you see stars. you could feel your stomach turning as you arched up into his touch, your legs spasming. he chuckled from above, leaning down to bring his lips to yours, his thumb now rubbing against your sensitive clit. you moaned loudly against his lips, practically panting into his mouth as he slipped his tongue in. the kiss was lust-filled, your lips messily working against one another’s, a clash of tongues together and teeth biting lips. he pulled away, a trail of saliva connecting you both as he wiped it away with his thumb, holding your chin and jaw.

“baby, baby, baby,” he grinned as he peered down at you. “feeling good? you close?”

unable to speak, you nodded, your face contorting in pleasure while his fingers curled inside. he leaned down to your ear, nibbling at the skin before speaking. “i want you to let go f’me. make a mess on my fingers, doll.”

with that, you threw your head back as you moaned matt’s name, coming undone. your sweet arousal coaxed his fingers you came all over his hand, matt slowly working you as you rode out your high. your breathing came in short, ragged gasps, your brain trying to process the amount of pleasure that just washed over you as matt slowly brought his fingers to his lips, sucking the juices off as he peered down at you. “tastes so sweet,” he whispered, cleaning you off his fingers. he brought his hand down to your parted lips, sticking his fingers down your throat. “here.”

you whined, sucking the tase of yourself off of matt’s fingers as he pulled them out with a pop, running his thumb along your bottom lip. you looked up at him, eyes wide, and your hair a mess as it spilled over your shoulders. your chest heaved as matt continued to admire you, running his hands all over your body. “you alright sweetheart?” suddenly feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you, you nodded as your eyes fluttered shut. matt laughed from above you, gently pulling you up, fixing your hair and dress. “c’mon, baby, let me bring you home.”

© mattscoquette | taglist

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. ⋆˚꩜｡ i loved making this sm. since when was addison rae serving cunt. i am obsessed w this song. anyway my creativity is slowly come back i love this for me let’s pray to god i don’t crash out again bc i almost deleted my blog. hope u all love!!! love u all to bits

[shypilled]

yet to be tainted.

priest!sam x fem!virgin!reader, TW religious themes, fingering, praise, sweet talk, porn w/some plot, (small) brief mention of masturbation if you squint, reader wears a dress, reader is guarded by her parents, etc — 16+ advised, 1.2k.

Ever since he laid eyes on you, Sam found himself locked in a silent war with himself. Plagued by the image of you every time he dared to say a night prayer. Instead, he ended up with damp sheets and sweaty hands. He’d gotten into the habit of dismissing the help of a nun, preferring to change his own sheets more. He swore to keep this secret to himself, keep it between him and God. But now? He wasn’t so sure he could resist that sweet temptation anymore.

Today was no different while preparing for the morning service and wiping down the pews. Despite knowing that his flock wouldn’t most likely arrive until another hour, Sam figured he needed to distract himself somehow. He couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror, much less could he carry himself with confidence. The more he thought about it, the more he found himself falling into the grasp of the devil’s arms.

“Father? Are you here?” The moment he heard your sweet tone, he turned around. He hadn’t expected your presence— but he also hadn’t expected you to be alone. Your parents were always by your side when he saw you, always monitoring you like a hawk. His eyes drifted down from your face to your breasts, then the curve of your hips before he caught himself. What was he doing? Eying one of his parishioners like this?

The straps to your dress were thin, one neatly placed on your shoulder while the other seemed to have a hard time holding up. All he had to do was reach out and- No.

You still were waiting for a response from him while Sam stood there frozen in place. Still processing your arrival.

“You’re early to service today.” He forced a smile on his lips, trying his best to compose himself. But the weight was setting in, you came alone. You weren’t chaperoned. Sam knew your parents, knew they would never allow this. How come you were standing before him now?

You looked down to your heels for a moment before meeting his gaze. “I, um— I wanted to see if you needed any help… Before service I mean.” He could see the flush warming up your cheeks and he could feel a real smile peeking through his time. This wasn’t the first time you’d seeked him out, staring at him with those round, doe eyes with a pink tint shading your cheeks— While your parents greeted fellow neighbors and family friends.

“Well I think we’re good for right now unless you’d like to help me light candles in the chapel?” This was a bad idea, wasn’t it? He was purposely getting you alone with him, no one to supervise either of you. But if you were just lighting candles, there’s no harm in that… Right?

He also couldn’t say no to the soft smile that graced your lips, eager to assist.

With a nod, he extended his hand out. “It’s just next door, not a far walk.” Once your hand fell in his grasp was when he realized just how perfect you two fit together just like this.

After lighting the candles, he found himself unable to tear his attention away from you. Those wide, curious eyes could lure anyone in. Whatever you’d ask of him, Sam knew he’d do it in an instant. His eyes darted down to your lips for a brief second— but before he could catch himself, you met his gaze.

The air felt charged suddenly, as if a flip had been switched once you locked eyes. You found your breath stolen away, struggling to breathe for a moment. It was almost hypnotic how he looked at you. As if he could devour you whole.

Your feet moved before you could stop them and soon enough, you were kissing him. Stepping yourself right into foreign territory.

Sam’s breath hitched, his hands hovering above your waist. He froze for a moment but as the seconds ticked by, he found himself accepting your embrace. He pulled you closer by your hips, pressing your chest against his. Just… taking in every inch of you wasn’t enough. Tearing at the hem of your dress wasn’t enough. He wanted to be one with you, he wanted to be connected with you.

Backing you up against the wall, he clawed at the straps of your dress. Sliding the white lace down your shoulders as his lips found the top of your breast. You let out a whimper at the sudden attack, hips bucking involuntarily once you felt him pressed against your core.

He wanted more, needed to hear more of that falling from your lips. Sam lifted his knee between your legs, watching as you started to grind against him. The sight was merely pornographic just then.

“Is this okay with you, Honey? Tell me to stop and I will, yeah?” He was sure this was your first time, judging by the gasps and the desperate way you clawed at his shoulders— you hadn’t done this before. He was the first to ever lay hands on you like this and as perverted it was, it just made him ache even more.

“Please, Father,” You breathed out, the way the title slipped from your lips had him letting out a groan against your flesh. “I got you, baby, I promise. But you gotta relax for me, yeah? Can’t make you feel good if you aren’t relaxed.” With your nod, he let his fingers drift beneath the hem of your dress. Finding your clothed cunt within seconds and then pressing his thumb flat against your clit.

“oh, god…” Your legs threatened to shut at the sudden contact but he held them open. Sam knew how bad you needed this and he would be an idiot to not provide. The clock was ticking and he couldn’t just leave you like this, all worked up and needy.

“‘atta girl, c’mon, spread ‘em for me, sweetheart. Don’t shy away now.” Once his lips met yours again, he swallowed the whines leaving your lips with greed. He kept his thumb pressed firmly, his middle finger rubbed against your slit but he didn’t dare enter. As much as he wanted to be inside you, he knew this was a lot to take even now.

You were soaking through the fabric of your panties, whimpering against his lips as you got closer to the edge. Your hips bucked against his hand, begging for more friction in which Sam happily obliged.

“it’s okay, it’s okay, baby. Jus’ let go, right here in my arms with me. I know it’s a lot but it’s gonna feel better, just let go, honey.” He coaxed the best he could, gentling his touch on your thigh as he kept a steady pace. The sob you let out of his name was enough to push him over the edge as well. His release soaking the fabric of his boxers as he let out a low moan.

He peppered kisses along your jawline, all the way down to your collarbone. Whispering sweet praises against your skin as he carefully moved his hand away. Sam did his best to smooth out your dress but he knew you’d have to clean up. You both did.

“That was so good, baby, yeah? You did so good. Let’s get you cleaned up before everyone starts to show.”

Taglist @laceyvelvetcake @mccartneyqp @xoswiftieprincess @starzify @adorifyy @ambiguous-avery @rositaslabyrinth @bejeweledinterludes @insensiblelimerence @immodestly-marina @samlou @mostlymarvelgirl @ultravi0lence14 @wa1ks @h8aaz

[whisperingdaze]

❝ MY GIRL ❞

⛧𓂃 dean winchester x fem!reader

428 words ノ fluff

summary ⨾ dean winchester can’t stop thinking about you. your constantly running through his head, from the moment he met your gaze .

dean winchester is obsessed with you.

from the moment he saw you, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. you were so beautiful to him. he was always sneaking glances at you when you weren’t looking, always making sure his girl was okay.

he cared so much for you, you were like an angel that walked into his life unexpectedly. you were this beam of happiness and love that made dean’s life better. he wasn’t going to let any harm come towards you even if it meant he was the one who ended up hurt.

he was so happy when you told him you loved him, dean didn’t exactly know what to do apart from carefully hold your face in his hands like you were porcelain and would break at the slightest movement. then he kissed you with such love and tenderness that made you smile into the kiss. from then on, he felt like the luckiest guy in the world.

he was so gentle with you.

always putting your needs and wants before his own, no matter the occasion. dean just wanted to make sure his sweet girlfriend was happy.

dean would open doors for you and pull out chairs for you, always making sure you never had to do it yourself. constantly offering to pay for every meal and buying flowers for you whenever he could.

dean would forever spoil you with whatever money he had, he showered you in affection wherever you guys went. he would tell you that your the most precious and valuable thing to ever walk this earth to him, he made sure you knew that. always.

he loved seeing how your face instantly softens when he tells you that he loves you, he loved how your smile was so bright whenever you saw him. dean felt pure bliss when he was with you. you were his girl.

his heart ached whenever you weren’t with him, he felt like a part of him was missing. dean felt whole with you. he felt spending forever with you, was truly never going to be enough for him.

dean felt safe with you, he felt content for first time in forever . he could be himself around you and never have to put a wall between you and him. you were his everything.

he didn’t know what love truly was till he stumbled on you in a bar. from the first time you met him and till the present day, your gaze would always soften whenever you looked at him. it held no anger, sadness or betrayal.

just love.

[cayleeuhithinknott]

— mean!chris’s ego is threatening to crack. . .

you’re not sure how long you’ve been waiting for this moment.

the moment chris’s ego starts to crack.

the moment he falls apart for you.

you’re on your knees now, lips stretched beautifully around his cock, his grip tight in your hair—but it’s not the control he wants you to think it is. not when his breathing’s ragged, not when he’s brutally face-fucking you, not when the smallest whimper escapes him and his jaw clenches like he’s trying to swallow it down.

he’s losing it. you know it. he knows it.

and God, it’s addictive.

“i—fuck—that all you got?” he chuckles darkly—shakily. he’s crumbling. trying to stay all tough and mean. “don’t get all cocky jus’ ‘cause i made a noise…n-not like it’s that good.” he rasps through gritted teeth, clearly lying.

you peer up at him through your lashes and—oh. you could tell he was really struggling. his hand tightens in your hair as you remove one of yours from his thigh and move it to cup his balls. his hips stutter, betraying the quick, steady pace he’d set when this all started.

“jesus, wh-why does that feel so—“ chris cuts himself off with a sharp inhale, yanking his hand out of your hair in favor of covering his mouth with it to stifle a whimper. you take the opportunity to pull your mouth off of his length, latching your lips solely around his tip, sucking on it momentarily. you pull away and give it a soft kiss, to which he jerks his hips. “shit—don’t—don’t do that again, i—well, maybe—“ his babbling is cut off by yet another gasp.

you’re given a rush of confidence at how quickly he’s crumbling. he pushes back into your mouth, your warm throat constricting around his length once again. you lift your eyes to his face pridefully, and you’d giggle at his wrecked appearance if his dick wasn’t shoved down your throat. “r-real proud of yourself, huh?” he grunts, reaching his hand back down to your scalp, tangling his nimble fingers in the wisps at the nape of your neck.

chris’s tip repeatedly hits the bruised spot in the back of your throat, quickening his rough pace. he was always rough with you, but you didn’t mind. in fact, you happened to thoroughly enjoy being treated like his little ragdoll.

fat, hot tears drip down your cheeks, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth and trickling down onto your bare chest. the both of you were a mess. but only one of you had an ego threatening to crack. and you both know which one it is.

chris squeezes his eyes shut, letting out a pathetic groan as he tosses his head back in ecstasy. he was close. he’s never finished this fast, so you were proud to say the least. “fuuck, you’re gonna make me—shit.” he grunts, tilting your head downward so he can get a deeper angle down your throat.

choked, garbled noises bubble up from your throat as you gag on his length. your knees are burning against the carpet you’re knelt on, and you can feel yourself drenching your panties, throbbing with need already. chris looks back down at your wrecked appearance in awe.

you could feel his cock pulsing against your tongue with each thrust of his hips, the string inside of him threatening to snap any second. he tilts his head back once again, but then jolts forward again, like he can’t decide if he wants to hold it in a little longer or give in.

but, ultimately, his body works faster than his brain, making the decision for him. you drag your nails up his tensing thigh, then grip it to steady yourself as his climax hits him. “fuuuck…swallow it all, c’mon…” he holds your head at the base of his cock, his hot release painting the walls of your throat white. he pulls out slowly, to which you lick his length clean of any remaining cum.

chris taps your chin with 2 fingers, signaling you to show him you swallowed it all. you do as you’re told, sticking your tongue out and showing that you did. “good girl,” chris rasps, his lips curling up into a menacing smirk.

he drags his thumb across your bottom lip, tugging it down slightly as his breathing steadies. there’s a flicker of something vulnerable in his eyes—just for a second—but it’s gone as fast as it came.

“getting cocky now, huh?” he mutters, the familiar edge slipping back into his voice like armor protecting his ego.

you stay on your knees, chest still rising and falling, watching as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand like he’s not the one who just lost control. like he didn’t almost fall apart in front of you.

he straightens up, tucks himself back in, and flashes you that smug little smirk—the one that used to make you flinch, but now? now it just makes your stomach twist in a different way.

“don’t get it twisted,” he says, jaw tight as he steps back, voice trying to stay cold. “i’m still the one in control.”

but the way his hands are shaking just slightly at his sides?

you know better.

author’s note. . . hi uh this is very short and lowkey buns…not proofread and based off this from twin!

🏷️ : @sturniolo04 @admeliora94 @alexturnersgooch @strnilolover @snuffbut @frattboychris @marrykisskilled @mqttittude @purpledragon222 @aubsloveschris @paisleyy22 @emely9274 @oliviasthatgirl @conspiracy-ash @matthewsroses @pasteldreams @matts-wife @courta13 @sugarraez @adorechris @elenayzxsturn @mattybsgroupie @zenithsturniolo @oopsiedaisydeer @bluestriips @grace-sturnz @sturnboos @owenstar @ribbonlovergirl @tweetybaird @tezzzzzzzz @vanteguccir @bernardmatthews @weirdothatwrites @mattsgracie @thighs4evan @lm-a-mirrorball @iluvchr1s @sturnslux3 @cutseylady

© cayleeuhithinknott

[norristeria]

PAIRING 𝄡 Lando Norris x Fan! FemReader

SUMMARY 𝄡 It was a stupid idea⏤scribbling your number on a scrap of paper and giving it to Lando at the Monaco Grand Prix. It would never work. And even if you did manage to give it to him, it's not like he's going to use it, right?

TAGS 𝄡 SMAU. Fluff ( bordering on crack ).

NOTE 𝄡 The enthusiasm for this silly fanfic has been almost overwhelming. We also reached 400 followers, which is crazy. Thank you so much! Hope you'll like this second part <33

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

━━━━ Previous Part ❦ Next Part!

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emmaprlx Girls’ night @ Gino yesterday! 🍝

1 hour ago

user1 29min and you didn’t think to invite me?? oh the betrayal, it stings…

emmaprlx 24min It was last minute tbh, an emergency to avoid mental breakdowns and burnouts user1 23min you got the dean’s email didn’t you? yourusername 23min YOU TOO??? @ user1 yourusername 22min damn we're so understaffed that's embarrassing

user2 13min The best kind of nights. Enjoy girlies!!! 👯‍♀️ ♥︎ liked by author

yourusername 5min i know Gino LOVES to see us coming. we singlehandedly pay his bills ♥︎ liked by author

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YOU HAVE SENT ONE NEW MESSAGE! to: Emma 🧌

YOU HAVE SENT ONE NEW MESSAGE! to: +44 (020) 7XXX XXXX

YOU HAVE SENT ONE NEW MESSAGE! to: Emma 🧌

[thinkshespretty]

𝑯𝑰𝑩𝑨𝑪𝑯𝑰 | 𝑪𝑯𝑹𝑰𝑺 𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑶𝑳𝑶

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉…your assigned to be a private chef for the sturniolo’s for the night and chris seems to take a special interest towards you.

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 smut, p in v, backshots, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, dumbification kink, male masturbation

the leaves from the trees in the backyard softly rustle from the autumn breeze as you place down utensils and plates on the clothed table. you have always loved cooking for others and experimenting with new recipes. that’s what sparked the idea to become a professional chef and share your passion with everyone. you were awaiting your next clients, three famous youtubers who rented out an airbnb for a fancy hibachi dinner. you finished placing down bottles of miscellaneous condiments before hearing the gate to the backyard open. three figures walked in with a man holding a camera following close behind.

“hi! you guys must be the sturniolos.” you greeted with a smile as you approached them. “i’m y/n, i’ll be cooking for you guys tonight.” you explained, sticking your hand out towards the boy in a blue shirt.

“that’s us! i’m nick, and this is matt and chris.” he pointed to his left. your gaze shifted as you smiled brightly at matt and chris, you felt a flush creep on your cheeks as chris held eye contact with you. although though the three boys looked the same you were captivated by him almost instantly.

“it’s nice to meet you all! are you ready to get started?” you quickly blurted out to distract yourself from the slightly awkward interaction. they all nodded before following behind you to their dinner table.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

“okay let’s get started! watch closely cause one of you guys will have to try this next.” you explained, beginning to flip your special hibachi spatula and knife between your hands. you swiftly spun the utensils towards nick, pretending to throw it at him before quickly retracing it back towards you. the three boys watched in awe at your tricks.

“that was sick.” chris announced from beside you, nodding his head in approval at your performance. matt and nick chuckled from beside him before speaking up. “chris why don’t you go up there and try?” nick insisted to his younger brother.

“yeah come on up here and give it a try!” you encouraged stepping aside to allow him to be in front of the stove. chris smiled and rolled his eyes as his brothers cheered him on, you handed him the utensils and began guiding him. “alright so your going to hold this hand in place and flick your wrist forward for the spinning motion.” you instructed, placing your hands on his and guiding him through the process.

“alright alright i got this.” chris laughed at his brothers. he tapped the spatula on the stove before attempting to spin it through the prongs of the utensil, ultimately failing. nick and matt chanted a “boo” at their brothers failure. you giggled at their bickering before looking back at chris.

“hey the form was pretty good! let’s try one more time.” you said with a smile. your skirt slightly rid up as you bent over in front of chris, unknowingly revealing your lacy black panties beneath your sheer tights. after retrieving the spatula on the ground and picked up the utensil and wiped it gently on your black skirt. chris could feel his dick start to twitch beneath his pants as he stared down at you.

after another attempt at your trick, chris failed and sat back down allowing his brothers a chance to try. he watched as you giggled alongside matt and nick while they tried your movements, only nick was successful. chris didn’t even pay attention to his brothers, his gaze was fixated on you. the way your hair sat perfectly on your shoulders and how your tits sat perfectly in the black collared shirt you wore, the three buttons you left undone showed the perfect amount of cleavage. he shifted in his char to subtly adjust the prominent tent against his pants. but the more he shifted his mind raced with desire and aching for release.

“i have to use the bathroom i’ll be back.” chris stated, quickly walking towards the house to avoid anyone noticing the strain in his sweats from his erection. as soon as he reached the bathroom door he slammed it shut and locked it. he untied his sweatpants and yanks them down, shoving his hand into his boxers. springing his dick from his pants and wrapping his hand around it he pumps his hand, moaning lowly. picturing it was your hand on his cock, chris’s hand moved faster up and down his shaft breathing heavily.

“alright you guys enjoy that rice and i’ll be preparing your next dish!” you smiled handing matt and nick their bowls. they both said a quick “thank you” before you walked back into the house. as you made your way to the kitchen and opened the fridge to get some eggs you heard low noises coming from the bathroom.

chris was too caught up with his movements and thoughts to hear the footsteps approaching the door behind him. he let out another groan as his hand moved faster.

you knew it was wrong, but your feet stayed planted in front of the bathroom door. you were going to step away until you heard chris moaning your name. your mind starts to wander as you imagine chris getting himself off from you. the thought alone sends a wave of heat through your body, chris’ noises went straight to your core, soaking onto your panties. you could picture everything you wanted chris to do to you. a lightbulb went off in your brain before you quickly walked back down the hallway.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

after realizing how long he had been away, chris cleaned himself up and started walking back down the hallway before stopping in his tracks, seeing you stare him down from the kitchen.

“you were in there for an awfully long time.” you stated with your arms crossed over your chest. chris swallowed hard, he didn’t respond as you slowly walked towards him.

“oh, uh sorry. were you waiting for the bathroom?” he stuttered, he didn’t think he was being that loud.

“if you wanted help chris, you could’ve just asked.” you mumbled with a smile creeping on your lips.

without a second thought chris smashed his lips onto yours. he pushed your back into the kitchen counter, before pulling away. “are you okay with this?” chris asked with heavy breaths, you immediately nodded and crashed your lips onto his again. he slipped his tongue inside your mouth, the both of you fighting for dominance and hungry with desire. chris toyed with the waistband of your skirt before you broke away from the kiss.

“chris don’t tease” you whined, trailing your manicured hands on his bicep.

“tell me what you want angel.”

“please just touch me.” you whispered, barley audible but laced with need. that was all chris needed to hear before tearing your skirt and tights down to your feet, leaving you in only your lacy black panties. you gasped as chris pressed his fingers against your clothed clit.

“you think you’re so sneaky hm? bending over in front of me and showing off that pretty little ass of yours. purposely tryin to get me worked up huh?” chris taunted, attaching his lips to your neck, attacking you with wet kisses and hickies. with his free hand he pulled the delicate fabric down to your feet, exposing your soaked core to the cool air.

“barley even touched ya and you’re already soaked.” he laughed darkly. without any warning he slide one of his long fingers inside of you. an airy moan escaped your lips as chris pumped his finger in and out of you.

“can you handle another one baby? god, you look so pretty under my touch.” chris whined, using his other hand to pry your legs apart. you nodded quickly. “use your words.” he insisted.

“yes! please put in another i-i can handle it!” you moaned in desperation. chris inserted another finger, making your back arch further. his fingers curled up inside of you, repeatedly hitting the sweet spot that made you see stars. you squeezed your eyes shut and cried out when he began rubbing circles on your clit, chris pressed his lips on yours to silence your noises, not wanting his brothers to hear anything. your walls clench around his fingers, whining as he increased his speed.

the squelching noises from his fingers combined with your moans could make chris cum already. he took one of his hands and undid your shirt, groaning at the sight of your tits pushed together from the red lacy bra. detaching his lips from yours, he left a trail of wet kisses from your neck to the valley of your breasts.

“chr-chris ngh i-i’m close.” you whimpered, feeling the tension coiling tighter within you.

but the feeling had stopped, you looked at chris who had pulled his fingers away from you and into his mouth, a sinister grin on his face. before you could protest, he gripped your hips tightly and spun you around, pressing you against the kitchen counter. he ridded himself out of his sweatpants and boxers with his dick springing out and hitting his stomach. he let out low grunts as he pumped himself a couple times before lining himself with your entrance.

chris didn’t waste another second before slamming into you, causing a loud pornographic moan to rip from your throat. his animalistic pace left your hips digging into the counter, surely to leave bruises. he held your waist tightly to keep you upright as he pounds into you. chris’s hand trails down your spine and presses down on it lightly to arch your back farther allowing him to hit deeper inside of you, causing you to cry out in ecstasy.

“mmh—fuck! f-feels so good!” you moaned as your eyes rolled back into your head. your hands scrape at the marble counter for something to keep you stable. salty tears pooled in your eyes from the amount of pleasure you were experiencing.

“shit—you’re so fuckin tight. i can feel your pussy squeezing around me.” chris laughs lowly next to your ear. tears stained your cheeks as you pant heavily, jolting with every moment. chris toys with your clit once more, soft moans leaving his mouth and loud ones leaving yours. he sticks his fingers between your lips causing you to gag. “shh be quiet f’me alright?”

chris continues to drill his dick into your pussy, his tip hitting the perfect spot with every thrust. sweat drips down your temple, mixing with your tear stained cheeks. you could barley even think straight as your lost in the overwhelming sensation coursing throughout your body.

“look at you, such a dirty little slut. getting fucked dumb on my cock, knowing my brothers could walk in at any second.”

the sound of your skin slapping against his echoes throughout the kitchen along with your breathless moans and his low grunts. chris takes his fingers out of your mouth before gripping your ass harshly, sending a couple hard smacks to your skin. you tremble beneath his touch as your walls spasm around his shaft, your climax building in your lower stomach.

“chris i—oh my god, mmh close—need to cum!” you babbled as tears and drool covered you cheeks. chris didn’t stop his relentless pace, continuing to pound into your tight hole.

“yeah? you gonna cum all over my cock for me sweetheart?” chris asks, landing another hard smack on your ass. you nodded as you felt the coil in your tummy threatening to snap at any second. your inner walls squeezing around his dick. “go ahead then, pretty girl, don’t hold back.”

you’re practically screaming his name as you hit your climax, releasing all over his cock that fucks your through your high. chris’s thrust become sloppy before he pulls out and paints your ass with warm white streaks. your legs shook as chris turned you around to face him, hoisting your thighs onto the countertop. he presses soft kisses on your inner thigh as you pant above him.

“you did so good f’me angel.” chris praised, prying your legs open before pressing his lips to your puffy folds. you whine from the sensitivity as he laps his tongue around your bundle of nerves, cleaning up the mess you made. your hand flew to his brunette curls, causing him to groan. his sounds vibrated against your sensitive nub. he pressed a gentle kiss before pulling away from your abused cunt with a wet pop, pulling his lips to yours. the taste of your orgasm still lingering on his lips.

chris adjusted his boxers and sweats before helping you back into your tights and skirt. he brushed a loose piece of hair behind your ear and pressed a kiss to your temple. “you okay?” you gave him a quiet “mhm” and reassuring smile before nick and matt walked into the kitchen with a disgusted look on their face.

“are you guys done yet i’m literally starving.”

𝐱𝐨𝐱𝐨, 𝐦𝐢𝐚 ♡

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆, ok so i did make some mistakes the first time posting this so im re-uploading !! this is my first time writing smut so please be nice. i can’t lie i don’t like it 😣, something about it is like really bad but I DONT KNOW. also i didn’t proofread this so if the perspectives change a lot i apologize lol. i hope u guys liked this and send me anons and asks so i can talk to u!! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⋆˚࿔ ౨ৎ ˚. ᵎᵎ @sirenedeslily @freshloveee

[isasweetie]

‎♡‧₊˚ boat days with rafe are always prissy!readers favourite days.

you loved them because it felt like the one moment rafe’s mind wasn’t elsewhere. usually he was a stressed, impatient man, but when he’d find the time to take the yacht out far and just park it there and soak in the sun with you, he was always happy.

rafe was doing his morning workout while you soaked in the sun that reflected from the water, a shirley temple in hand that rafe made you at the bar. peacefully content, your stomach rested on the longue chair as your back tanned, glowing from the tanning oil that rafe had applied for you while complaining about how oily it felt and how he was gonna have to wash his hands.

with a sigh when you realize your drink is empty, you call rafe’s name to get you another one — not in a bratty way, you just knew rafe was always glad to keep you content, so he would make you another, even if he did mutter ‘i’m not your fuckin’ servant’ every time.

he comes over, pausing his workout. “yeah, baby?”

“can i have another drink?” you ask, turning over to lie on your back so you can face him.

“yeah, i got you,” he takes the empty glass and makes you another shirley temple, then brings it back to you. “need anything else?”

“umm..” you try to think, biting on your inner cheek. “dunno if i really want tan lines, can you help me untie my bikini top?”

“this isn’t france, baby, can’t sit outside with your tits out,”

“do you see anyone around? we’re in the middle of the ocean,” you ask. “didn’t know you were such a prude, just wanna tan my chest,”

“m’not a prude. fine, sit up. c’mon,” he relents, and you sit up.

his big hands fidget with the little bow on your triangle bikini, untying both knots. “there you go,” he pats your shoulder. “gotta go back to working out, you good here for like, fifteen minutes? not bored?”

“i’m fine. thank you rafe,” you smile up at him, pecking his lips while he’s still crouched down.

he nods, giving you one last look with his pretty baby blues before turning to go to the back of the boat to finish his workout.

you spend a bit of time on your phone while you’re still sat up, taking photos of the water, and topless selfies to absolutely send to rafe next time he’s at the office, and take sips of your shirley temple. then you apply some tanning oil on your front and tan that side for a little while, putting in an earbud to listen to some lana del rey.

after a while, you’re overheatting, even with your drink. but thankfully, rafe is feeling the exact same way. he finishes his workout and comes back to you all sweaty.

“hey,” he breathes out, taking the earbud out of your ear and stealing a sip of your drink so he can get his breath back.

“rafe!” you whine, swiping your drink back.

“usually when people say hey, you say hi back,” he says sarcastically, teasing you. “anyway, c’mon, we’re going swimming, i’m hot as fuck and you’re coming with me,”

you nod and he helps you up. he takes you to the edge of the boat. “we’re gonna jump, you good with that?”

“nervous,” you admit, staring off the yacht and into the blue water.

“you’ll be all good. i’ll hold your hand,” he assures, grabbing your manicured hand. “on three,”

he counts down, squeezing your hand each time. when he gets to three, he jumps and pulls you with him.

the water feels cold and refreshing against your warm body. you can’t help but think that your blowout is ruined from the water, but rafe will pay for another one if it upsets you. giggling, you resurface, looping your arms around rafe’s neck, topless chest pressed against his. “that was fun!”

“yeah?” he can’t help the little smile that appears at your happiness. “c’mon, let’s go again,”

with an eager nod, he helps you onto the ladder at the back of the boat, and you grab his hand when he walks you to the edge again. he counts down again, and you jump. it continues like that for 7 minutes until you get chilly.

rafe gets you a towel embroidered with his name (of course), and leaves you to warm up in the sun.

at the end of the day, you’ve changed into a spare sundress kept below deck, because rafe is cooking dinner in the mini kitchen on the yacht. you watch him cook, drying your hair off with a towel, then recurling your eyelashes and putting your lipgloss back on that wiped away.

you sit down back outside, both of you eating your dinner as the sky turns into this gorgeous swirl of pink, orange, and yellow while the sun dips down.

with the golden hour highlighting every feature on your boyfriends face, the feeling of your wet hair soaking the back of the dress, and putting the most delicious food in your mouth, you’re absolutely sure you’ll never get sick of this.

“i think the water is gonna tarnish my necklace,” you tell rafe gently as you help him wash the plates after. your hand subconsciously fiddles with said necklace, the one that has his initial on it. rafe’s very proud of that necklace.

“well we can’t have that, yeah?” rafe smiles, putting his hands on your waist. “we’ll buy you a new one tomorrow, hm? real gold this time, no cheaping out,”

you smile and nod, and he kisses you in a way that’s gonna screw you up forever. being with him is like paradise.

[lacydaydream]

Soldier Boy x Reader

cw: porn with no plot, objectification, degregation, size kink (if you squint!), just Ben as a whole, and unprotected sex p in v (always wear protection!).

estelle yaps: okay, so this is my first piece of writting on here. yay! the soldier boy brainrot is so bad. if you have any requests or constructive criticism, my inbox is open!

word count: 569

“s’funny.” Ben grunts, his voice dangerously low next to your ear. His breath comes out in rough pants. His frame is pressed against your back, muscular chest pressing you into the wall.

His hands grip your hips, fingertips leaving bruises. He trusts into your weeping cunt, the tip of his cock hitting that perfect spot that always made you scream.

A yelp leaves your lips, legs shaking as your nails scratch down the wooden wall. Every movement he made was delicious. Even if you hated his guts, he was the best fuck of your life.

His cockiness wasn’t compensation for anything. He had size and skill. Just five minutes with him was enough to make you see stars. Every inch filled you to the brim, and he was a mean bastard, so he’d love to pull himself out nice and slow, only to slam back into you. Forcing you to feel every inch of him.

Ever since Butcher had brought him back to the motel you’d all been staying at, the two of you had been at each other’s throats. For the stupidest of things. Food left out of the fridge, the toilet seat up, or, in more recent cases, the idea of him being a douche bag.

“Swear ya hate me.” He tuts, slapping a hand down on your ass. Hard. “Yet, you always come for some cock, huh, pretty thing?”

All you can muster is a broken moan, the force of his trusts sending you into a whole new universe. Each thrust is rough, but god, you can feel every inch. Every ridge and vein as your greedy cunt welcomes him in.

Swears leaves his lips as he pounds into you from behind, finger tips leaving pretty marks. Faint shades of purple litter your skin in the shape of his hands. “Cock dumb little whore.”

His gaze drops down to where the two of you connect. His dick is covered in your slick, making his own mind feel floaty. You take every inch so perfectly. And he loves watching himself piston into you, only for your greedy cunt to suck him in every time.

Soldier Boy’s hand smacks your ass again, watching it jiggle. A grunt leaves his lips. The sinful noises falling from your lips only spur him on more.

His hand travels down from your hip, his rough hand moving to your tummy. Feeling himself inside you. An almost animalistic growl leaves his lips. His hand moves south, down to between your puffy folds. His skilled fingers find your clit easily. He coos softly as your hips stutter and you press back against him.

“Atta girl. You gonna gush that sweet pussy all over my cock? can feel her fluttering- squeezing me so tight.” His fingers rub tight circles against your clit, watching your ass jiggle each time his hips meet yours.

He feels you stutter against him, slumping forward against the wall. Your walls clamp down on his cock, squeezing him once more. With a long drawn out moan you release on his length, legs shaking under you.

“Good girl.” His praise is short lived as he roughly thrusts into you again, chasing his high. It only takes a few more thrusts into your squelching pussy before he’s shooting his load into you.

His pulls himself out, watching as his cum drips down your thighs. God, what a sight for sore eyes.

“Fuckin’ beautiful.”

[777sturn]

⟢ 𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 flirtybbf!chris . . .

suggestive. mature language.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ jules’ message. bye this is so short 😕😕💔 these are so fun to make im def gonna make more in the future as well as part twooooo

© 777sturn

[loganspet]

𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐓

𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓 ♡ ૮₍ ˶′ ᵕ ‵˶ ₎ა

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 !!

. . . ─── ⋆⋅ ♡ ⋅⋆ ─── 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

. . . @loganspet

Breeding Kink

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ⋆｡˚⭑ ❝—𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! ❞ ⋆｡˚⭑

Explicit Content, Soft Dom! Logan, Sub! Reader, Mutual Pleasure, Edging, Overstimulation, Praise, Claws Come Out, Creampie, Body Worship,Implied Baby-Making,(P in V), Marriage, Handjob, Fingering, Pussydrunk

Logan filling you to the brim NSFW!!🍰

Logan smelled you before he even stepped into the bedroom. Something warm and sweet, vanilla curling through the air, woven between the flicker of candle wax. It was soft—too soft for a man like him—but fuck, it was you.

And then he saw you.

Perched on the edge of the bed, wrapped up in lace and tiny pink bows.

He stopped in the doorway, boots still on, belt still half-undone from the long drive home. His body ached—not from the usual strain of old wounds and old sins, but from the simple fact that it had been too long. Too many nights of passing touches, of restless sleep, of not having the time to really hold you.

“Jesus.”

You pouted at him, shifting slightly, letting the lace cling to your curves. His favorite lace, the one that barely covered a damn thing, all sheer panels and delicate straps.

“Do ya’ like it?”

Logan’s hands flexed at his sides. His jaw ticked. Like was an understatement.

“Hun—”

“You haven’t touched me yet.”

His fingers curled into fists.

Your voice was honeyed, teasing, but there was something else under it, something softer. You knew what today was. He hadn’t mentioned it, didn’t think much of birthdays anymore. You had thought about it.

He could smell your arousal, could see the way your nipples peaked against the lace, could hear the too-steady rhythm of your breathing, waiting for him to do something. Anything.

Logan exhaled sharply and dropped onto the edge of the bed, running a hand down his face. His belt hung undone, jeans loose on his hips, Logan’s his body was tight. His hands braced against his thighs, shoulders hunched forward like he was waiting something out. A sigh, thick with exhaustion, left his lips.

Your lips parted. This was your moment.

You slid into his lap, straddling one thick thigh, your hands running up his chest, your mouth brushing against the rough line of his jaw.

“I missed this. Lo”

He inhaled sharply, his chest rising against yours.

“You’re quiet tonight,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to the curve of his neck.

“Missed you too,” he admitted, voice rough.

You felt the friction as you shifted against him, riding the denim just a little bit. His breath caught. In order to anchor you, his other hand reached up and grabbed your rib cage. You could sense the little trembling in his fingertips and the warmth of his palm. Logan put his fingers through yours, not just holding you there. Warm and strong, his wedding band felt chilly against your flesh. Slowly moving his thumb over your knuckles, he rooted himself in you and the sensation of your hand in his.

His head tipped back slightly, giving you better access. You kissed his throat again, open-mouthed, sucking gently against the thick muscle.

“Shit,” he exhaled.

And then you felt it—the moment he let go.

The moment wolffish instincts took over.

His body melted into you, broad and warm, his thighs spreading wider beneath you, giving you more space. His other hand smoothed down your side, tracing the sheer lace, his fingers brushing against the soft curve of your breast.

And then you palmed him through his boxers.

His head jerked forward, his hands gripping, his breath stuttering.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he rasped.

He didn’t stop you.

Didn’t want to stop you.

You stroked him slow, teasing, feeling the way he grew harder under your touch. His pupils were blown wide, needy, and his lips parted slightly, dragging in shaky breaths.

“Look at you,” you whispered, voice thick with affection. “My beautiful husband.”

Logan groaned low in his throat. His fingers squeezed around yours tight for a moment before releasing, bringing your joined hands up to his mouth. He kissed the back of your hand, his lips warm, his breath uneven.

“Keep talkin’ like that, and I’m not gonna last long, baby.”

Your smile was soft as you leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Then let go for me,” you whispered. “I’ve got you.”

He shuddered. His free arm wrapped around you then, pulling you in tight against his chest. His breath was ragged against your hair as his hand splayed wide across your back, holding you against him as if keeping you this close might keep him from falling apart.

It didn’t.

He gasped as he came, body shaking, his claws snikt out, tearing through the lace. His whole body tensed—then melted—his forehead dropping against your shoulder as he let out a shuddering breath, low and broken. His fingers slid between your thighs.

“Oh, baby,” his breath came out ragged, his body still twitching from the aftershocks. His claws had sliced through the fabric the second he came, shredded ribbons of lace now barely clinging to your soft skin. And fuck, you smelled good. Warm. Sweet.

It was all over his hands, all over his thigh where you had rubbed against him, all over his skin where you had kissed him soft and slow while driving him insane.

His pupils were still blown wide when he moved.

“Missed you, Lo” you whimpered, voice muffled against his chest. “Missed you so much.”

His grip on you tightened.

“This what you missed, baby?”

You nodded, back arching instinctively.

Logan didn’t hesitate.

He rolled you onto your stomach, dragging you against him, pressing his weight over you, keeping you close. His chest was firm against your back, his breath warm at the shell of your ear. His free hand found yours again, lacing your fingers together above your head.

And then his mouth was on you—sharp teeth sinking into the plush curve of your ass, making you cry out.

His lips soothed over the mark immediately, warm tongue flicking against sensitive skin before he bit again, this time at the dip of your hip, dragging another whimper from your throat.

“Fuck, my darlin wife,” he muttered against your skin, breath ragged. “You feel so good.”

His hands spread you wider, his rough fingers slipping between your thighs, teasing, stroking, pressing inside so slowly. You gasped, your hands tightening around his.

Logan chuckled against your skin, His lips found your collarbone, pressing open-mouthed kisses up the column of your throat, nipping at the sensitive skin just beneath your ear. His fangs scraped your pulse point, making you shiver. “Hurts so good, don’t it?”

Your breath hitched.

“Yes—” riding back against his hand.

Logan groaned, his cock twitching against his jeans, his self-control hanging by a thread. He squeezed your hand in his before slipping a third finger inside without warning.

You cried out, thighs trembling, your whole body arching off the bed.

Logan held you there, anchored against him. His breath was ragged at your ear, his body warm and solid against yours. His lips brushed your temple, his voice deep, possessive.

. . .

His pants were finally gone, discarded somewhere on the floor, leaving nothing between you.

Logan didn’t rush—not yet. He took his time, dragging those rough hands over your body, memorizing every inch of bare skin. The shredded lace that barely clung to you? That didn’t stand a chance. His claws unsheathed with another sharp snikt, and in one fluid motion, he sliced through the delicate fabric, tearing it away completely.

His eyes were wild, dark with want, flickering between your heaving chest and the mess between your thighs. His breathing was heavy, his jaw tight, as he ran his palms up your body, cupping the swell of your breasts, his thumbs grazing over your sensitive nipples.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he murmured, leaning down, his lips brushing over one peak before closing around it. His tongue flicked over the sensitive bud, and you gasped, moaning.

He groaned, suckling hard, one hand kneading the soft flesh, the other sliding down to grip your hip, his fingernails digging into your skin.

“You were made for me,” he rasped, dragging his mouth lower, kissing down your stomach, nipping and sucking until he reached the place where you were dripping for him.

He swiped his fingers through your slick folds, gathering the wetness before pressing them into your mouth. “Taste yourself, sweetheart,” he whispered, his gaze locked on yours, full of hunger and reverence.

You whimpered, sucking his fingers into your mouth, tongue swirling around them.

Your tongue swirled around his fingers, sucking them in as your eyes fluttered shut. Logan groaned at the sight, his jaw clenching, his breath ragged.

“Hell”

His fingers slipped free with a wet pop, and before you could beg, before you could even breathe, his mouth was on you.

His tongue curled against your clit, lapping broad and slow before narrowing to a precise flick that sent a shudder wracking through your body. His mutton chops scratched against the insides of your thighs, rough and hot, his breath burning where it ghosted over your soaked skin. He growled low in his chest, the vibrations sparking through you, making your hips buck up into his mouth.

“You’re so good to me—so good—”

He groaned into your cunt, his tongue curling deep inside you, his breath hot, damp against your soaked skin. The sound of your praise made him ache, made him desperate to pull more from you, to make you feel every bit of his devotion

His hands tightened against your thighs, holding you still, forcing you to take it. “Stay still, baby,” he mumbled between hungry licks, his voice dark and breathless.

“Lemme eat yeah” He was so beautiful like this—wild and hungry,

You whimpered, barely able to form words, your fingers threading into his thick hair, tugging hard. He groaned at that, pressing his face deeper between your legs, lapping at you like a man starved. His tongue flicked over your clit again, relentless now, faster, harder—fuck. Logan’s hips rutted against the mattress, barely aware of the way he was grinding against the sheets, so lost in the way you sounded, the way you tasted, the way your body moved under his tongue.

Your body tensed, your thighs trembling around his head as he devoured you, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet of the room. His mutton chops were damp, slick with your arousal, shining in the candlelight as he kept going, as he drank you in like he couldn’t get enough.

“Made for me,” he panted against you, tongue dipping deep, fucking into you before sliding back up to suck your clit between his lips. “You were made for me, sweetheart. This pussy—fuck—” He groaned, pressing his face harder against you, his nose nudging against your swollen flesh, his tongue flicking faster, deeper.

“Come for me,”

He lapped up every drop, his tongue still working you through the aftershocks, still flicking against your overstimulated clit, making you whimper, thrash beneath him. His hands gripped your thighs tighter, his body trembling with restraint. Logan didn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop. He kept licking, kept lapping up everything you gave him, drinking you down, his breath coming fast and heavy as you trembled against him. His mutton chops were damp, his lips slick, his hands shaking as he finally pulled back just enough to press a kiss to the inside of your thigh—soothing over the marks he’d left with his teeth, his stubble.

“Fuck, too much—Logan—” you gasped, your voice shaky, pleading.

“Sweetie” he murmured, crawling up your body, his lips pressing against yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His cock was aching.

“Need you,”

…

Then, in an instant, he was pressing you into the mattress, pinning you beneath him, his cock heavy and leaking against your entrance. You gasped, suddenly straddling his waist, your hands splayed against his broad chest. He was still inside you, still stretching you open, still filling you so deep you swore you could feel him everywhere.

Logan groans as he watches the way you shudder beneath him, your body still fluttering around nothing when he pulls out, leaving you empty and aching. A whimper spills from your lips, your brows furrowing as you try to clench around the absence of him.

“Don’t pout, princess,” he rasps, “Gotta make sure you really want it.”

Your breath stutters when he fists himself, his cock slick and shining with your arousal, the thick head rubbing against your swollen clit, smearing a mess of both of you over your skin. You let out a needy little whine, reaching for him, desperate.

“I want it so badly,” you whisper, eyes big, pretty, pleading.

Logan grins, slow and sharp, still pumping his cock right above your trembling body. “You wanna help, sweetheart? Hm?”

You nod quickly, licking your lips as you wrap your fingers around him, your small hand struggling to close around his girth. Logan curses under his breath, his hips jerking slightly when you stroke him, slow at first, teasing the thick vein that runs along the underside of his length.

“Fuck, that’s it, sugar,” he groans, his hand covering yours, guiding you to go faster, tighter. “Knew you had it in you—such a good girl, knowin’ how to take care of her man.”

Your other hand drifts down to cup his heavy balls, rolling them gently, and Logan growls, his grip tightening on your wrist.

“You keep that up,princess, ‘m not gonna last,” he warns, but you just smile up at him, lashes fluttering as you pump him faster.

“Don’t wanna wait,” you murmur, tilting your head. “Wanna see you make a mess for me, Lo.”

He curses, his head dropping forward, his body tensing above you. And then he’s spilling, thick ropes of cum landing hot across your stomach, some dribbling down to your swollen folds, making a filthy, sticky mess of you.

You hum in satisfaction, running your fingers through the sticky heat, smearing it against your skin like you want to keep it there forever. Logan watches, breath still heavy, his gaze dark as he leans down, rubbing his fingers into the mess along with yours, pressing some back against your folds.

Before you can catch your breath, he’s pushing your thighs apart again, rubbing the mess of him against your fluttering entrance, teasing your overstimulated core.

Wet slap of skin meeting skin fills the room, his name spilling from your lips between gasps.

“There she is,” He groans, watching your face twist in pleasure, watching your chest rise and fall, the way your pretty tits bounce with every thrust. He moves a hand to your belly again, pressing down, feeling himself inside you. His lips brushed against your ear, voice husky and deep.

Your nails sank into his back as he pushed deeper, stretching you around his thick length. His skin was hot, damp with sweat, his muscles tense beneath your fingertips. you up just like he promised, thick heat dripping from where you’re still joined. He stays there, stays, pressing deep, as if making sure it takes.

Logan groaned, pressing his forehead against yours, his hips rolling slow, Your fingers dragged down his back, nails raking over his skin, drawing thin, red lines that healed almost instantly—only for you to mark him again.

The pain spurred him on. A snarl tore from his throat as he snapped his hips forward, setting a punishing pace, fucking you deep, raw, desperate.

His claws dug into the mattress, shredding through fabric and wood as his body moved with yours, chasing pleasure, chasing the overwhelming need to claim you.

You were sobbing his name, your nails carving deeper, and the sharp sting only made him thrust faster, harder, like his body was built for this—for you.

His mouth is on you—everywhere. Devouring you, You grip his hair, tugging him back up to you, gasping when his mouth slants over yours—hungry, demanding, the kiss hot and desperate. You taste whiskey and cigar smoke.

It’s too much, too full, your breath catching as he stretches you open, deeper than he’s ever been. His hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider, keeping you open for him, his voice a ragged growl.

Logan snarls. “You’re squeezin’ me so damn tight, baby—shit—gonna pump you full”

You scream his name, body breaking, shaking, pleasure so raw and all-consuming that you see white.

“There we go,” he groans, gripping your hips as he starts to move again,

“Yes—yes, Logan, please—”

Your body broke around him—shaking, sobbing, gripping him so tight he stayed—buried deep, holding you close, making sure you felt all of him. practically dripping from his seed.

“Love you darlin’”

“Love you too,” you reply softly, your voice a little breathless but full of affection.

He chuckles, low and warm. “Think we might need a new bed.”

You glance at the wreckage—the mattress askew, the frame half-split from the sheer force of his movements, and the claw marks etched deep into the fabric. The bedframe is a mess. The thought of it makes you laugh softly.

“I think you ruined it.”

He smirks, running his hand through his hair, the sharpness of his claws now retracted but still visible in the way his muscles flex as he stretches. “Couldn’t help it” His grin widens. “Neighbors are definitely gonna know we had a good time.”

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress the giggle that escapes you, still a little dazed from the intensity of it all.

Logan watches you, his gaze softening as he wipes a strand of hair from your face. “Guess I’ll just have to get another bed.” The thought of replacing the bed not bothering him in the slightest.

You curl into his side, your head resting on his shoulder as you try to calm your breathing. “I think I’ll let you deal with the aftermath of that, Lo.”

“You know we got the goal I wanted, though, right?”

You nod, the contentment in your body proof of his success. “Yeah, I know.”

He pulls you closer, kissing the top of your head. “Good. ‘Cause you’re gonna make me a damn good daddy one of these days.”

You laugh softly, teasing. “I guess we’ll see about that, huh?”

. . .

[kissingchamber]

illicit affairs

𝜗𝜚 synopsis: Tony finds out his son is dating his intern. His intern!

𝜗𝜚 pairing(s): MCU!Peter Parker x Stark!male reader; Tony Stark x son!reader

𝜗𝜚 warning(s): nothing really this is just silly fluff and Tony being clueless

𝜗𝜚 note(s): English is not my first language!!! Based on this request, hope u enjoy anon :3 title from taylor swifts "illicit affairs" !!

Everyone in the Avengers tower knows you and Peter are dating! Well, almost everyone in the Avengers tower knows you and Peter are dating. The only one who hasn't yet figured it out is the one and only, Tony Stark, your dad.

Honestly, it's a surprise he hasn't found out yet with the way you and Peter have been looking at each other with longing heart eyes and cuddling during movie nights. And he calls himself a genius...

It's sort of become a game for you and Peter, seeing how long it'll take for Tony to realize what's really going on.

What makes it even more unbelievable is that Pepper was the first one to know!

─────────────── ⋆ ───────────────

You make your way down to the lab where you knew Peter would be— he'd texted, telling you he would be down in the labs today— working on something for his suit with Tony.

You slide into the lab, finding Peter sat in a chair, eagerly chatting with your dad and typing something on a tablet at the same time.

You come up behind him, wrapping your arms around him, hugging him to your chest and burying your face into his hair. "Hi, Pete." You murmur.

"H— hey!" Peter's face flushes a pretty pink color and you can't help but smirk. He's so easily flustered.

You almost forget Tony is there until he starts talking. "Oh, hey kid! Care to help us a little? We could really use an extra set of hands." He says, acting like the way you're holding Peter is totally platonic.

You nod, mumbling a sure, but not before sending Peter a look. He cannot be serious... He shoots back an agreeing gaze.

─────────────── ⋆ ───────────────

It's movie night, most of the Avengers are scattered across the room, sitting in all kinds of weird positions that make you want to laugh. You and Peter are laying on one of the couches, practically entangled together.

Everyone is arguing about which movie to watch when Tony walks in with Steve trailing behind him, their arms filled with snacks.

Steve looks at you and Peter, mumbling something about lovebirds and takes a seat on one of the recliners.

Tony settles on a loveseat next to Pepper and joins in on the movie debate.

You and Peter share a look, Tony definitely heard what Cap said, right?

─────────────── ⋆ ───────────────

You walk into the kitchen where Peter is sitting on a barstool, leaning onto the island and nodding along to whatever Tony— who is currently refilling his coffee cup— is saying.

You press a kiss to Peter's cheek in greeting, sitting down on another barstool. He gives you a soft smile in response and grabs ahold of your hand.

Tony finishes getting his coffee, ruffles your hair and leaves the room wordlessly, like you hadn't just kissed your boyfriend— that he doesn't know is your boyfriend— right in front of him!

You and Peter stare at each other for a silent second before bursting into laughter. Tony is so clueless it's hilarious.

─────────────── ⋆ ───────────────

When Tony finally does find out it's possibly in the most embarrassing way ever.

You and Peter were in your room, making out on your bed, when Tony walked in.

"Dad—!" You yell and scramble to get off of Peter, whose face is currently the shade of bright red reminiscent of a tomato.

"Sorry, sorry!" Tony says quickly, at least he sounds apologetic.

You glare at him with no real heat in your expression. "You could've, you know, knocked before you came in. Like you're supposed to." You grumble.

"I know, I know. But uhm... since when were you two a thing?" He asks, almost sounding hesitant.

Peter looks like he's trying his hardest not to laugh, barely succeeding. "Everyone else figured it out months ago, if that gives you any idea."

"What—" Tony begins but you interrupt him; "And Pepper was the first one to find out"

"And she didn't tell me!?" He sounds so betrayed, it's so funny you can barely respond. "Apparently not!" You get out before bursting into giggles, Peter laughing beside you.

Tony turns on his heel and rushes into the hallway "Pepper!" He cries out.

At this, you and Peter can't hold it in anymore, erupting into the kind of laughter that makes your tummy hurt and leaves your sides sore afterwards.

And he calls himself a genius.

𝜗𝜚 note: this is longer that anything ive posted previously so thats why this took me so long to post 𖦹 ´ ᯅ ` 𖦹 thanks 4 reading!!! reblogs r super appreciated!! :3