#and like blue jeans idk i like him in jeans

[fawnpires]

hihii idk if ur requests are open but I'd like 2 kindly question for a konig x hyperfem! reader?? just konig falling in love with cutesy fm reader -🎀

୨୧ — anon, you’ve just blessed me with creating the concept of college!könig + hyperfem!reader together as a pair.

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ -> COLLEGE AU, hyperfem + fem!reader, college!könig, undertones of pining, strangers to lovers, dumbification, size difference, oral sex [fem. receiving], mutual loss of virginity, messy sex, tons of manhandling, usage of pet names.

There's something about him that appeals to no other girl; he's around a year or two older in comparison to you – a kept-to-himself, socially bordered-off type of guy, barely knows how to communicate with others, barely knows how to converse with girls at that.

Hell, you don't even think you've seen him up until now, – excluding the classes you have with him – perched up in some corner of a borderline sketchy frat party, spread-legged on the couch and stiff as ever with a red solo cup cupped in his equally tense fist. Not his kind-of environment. Not the sort to be here. Makes you wonder where he'd much rather be right now.

You're smitten by him, as early as those feelings sound and fully embedded itself in your head. But who were you to deny them about a guy like him? – a lean, tall structure with just a sufficient amount of softness and toughened muscles around the edges, the kindest hues of blue gracing the formations of his eyes, and that nearly dreamy shade of pale-sandy that his shaggy hair and light stubble takes on.

And you don’t have the faintest clue how, but you would never expect to end up on that couch, the bared skin of your thigh beneath the pleats of your little mini-skirt rubbing up against the coarse fabric of his jeans. although it’s probably the alcohol, or the closely intimate atmosphere of the party, but either way, you had no doubts that his mere presence was to have you hooked onto him. (save for the innocent school-girl crush that you'd never owned up to until right about now.)

"König, right?" you asked, striking up benevolent conversation all while giving him a timid yet sweet smile plastered against the puffiness of your glossed-over lips. 

The moment you had first made your way over here and politely invited yourself directly next to him, it left him paralyzed, constricted in his own body to some extent. He couldn't deny your beauty as much as you found his own; a bit ditsy in all the right places appearance-wise, but possessing your own personal fashion sense which he found quite endearing. Little pale-pink ribbons he had always observed you wearing around campus and during classes somewhere in your hair, a variety of mini-skirts and dresses, or the occasional crop top and a track-suit. The cliché feminine kind. 

This particular exchange seems to pique his interests. He comes across as oddly indulged in you, eyes discreetly alight than usual.

“Mhm. I know you,” he nodded, a delicate gruff-ness lingering in his tone. “you’ve become a common sight to me, not to sound strange, but I'm sure we have most classes together.” 

“Not strange at all. Though, I barely see you around outside of classes.” 

“Yeah, I figured. just not the partying-type, it’s a mystery as to how I ended up here.” 

You snorted. “The frats are my best guess, complete assholes. Must’ve gotten to your head about letting loose, stupefying yourself… somethin’ like that.” 

He chuckles, ending it in a brief dragged-out sigh, sincere and throaty, his lips left agape. 

“You know, they may not be entirely wrong,” he ponders aloud, eyeing your doe gaze before aimlessly staring ahead. “there’s no harm in loosening up every now and then – but still, I fear the farthest I can go is alcohol.” 

“No girls?” you remark teasingly, tilting your head like a curious puppy. “That’s hard to believe.” 

The tease of a compliment causes him to roll his eyes in a light-hearted manner, his head sloping back down to stare down at you as he’s left with a raised eyebrow – along with a small, stupid-plastered grin smudged across his semi-thinned lips. Focused. strange, charming, loser of a man he was. It was probably just the alcohol really enhancing on his actions and speech, but who was he to not take advantage of such abilities? 

In some subconscious portion between his assumed temporary self-confidence and original, reserved and sweetheart-of-a-man self; an arm reached around the expanse of your back, keeping you close to him in a fragile way of handling you. His hand had itself in your hair, lightly toying with the satin material of your ribbons in the most tender way possible. 

There’s evident potential amidst the both of you – he knows it, and you know it. 

“Not so hard to believe when I'm talking to one right now.” he comments, blinking at you with a subtle smirk. “I've never told you or anyone this but… god, you’re a beauty.”

His flirtations were kept sweetened, innocent and a tad shy still. He's pleasant enough to converse with rather than fraternities. They weren’t much of empaths, just insufferable pains in the asses. Turning girls into their insignificant wet dreams. At least König beat the poorly-set expectations of getting together with a man like that as a last resort out of you, a chance at more ideal circumstances. 

You found yourself enamored with the guy the second you walked into this party – gaping over at him through the corners of your eyes across the room, across campus, – and now, without a train of moral thinking in your head,  you’ve got yourself in the same position like every other girl at a college party; settled in some handsome stranger’s lap, and making out with him your life depends on it. The last thing you remembered was the way his words in the form of a compliment came to you, before you had your legs rested on each side of his spread legs and large hands caging gently at your waist. 

It’s an ambiguity as to how quickly your body molds into his, ridges and curves sculpting as if they were familiar to one another, almost like they were predestined to attach like a hidden prophecy. His kisses are a far cry from how you initially expected them to be. (unfortunately rough, messy, just like how you’d seen your friends get it on with their boyfriends.) 

A heavy hand palms at the back of your head while the other is left at one side of your hip – the cushion of his lips meeting yours with a lenient, mutual desperation. You barely know anything about him, yet here you are caught in this trance of letting him take guidance in this, all you’re doing is pursuing in whatever he does. Your arms wrap around his neck, chest rising and falling against his as the intimacy of the kiss begins to naturally register in your brain. He had you in the palm of his hand, clearly. 

You’re so deeply in savoring the exhilarating taste of him that it was beyond your realizations he’s up and lifting you off of his lap, instead leading you on with only both of your arms clinging to one of his own – leaning onto him in a love-drunk predicament. You could’ve sworn he was looking down at you with the most adoration you’ve ever seen on a man’s face, nothing surprising when he was being the right amount of considerate to accompany you back to your own dorm – to lose his heart’s worth and devotion to. He had such a pure heart, virtuous even. That is, until you’re at the foot of your door, and you’re unlocking it without a realistic thought in mind – were you really this yearnful? – lacing fingers with a foreign individual, breaths lost in a slight stagger until you’re swinging the door wide open and stumbling inside along with him. 

It’s when your legs wrap around the dips of his hips, and your arms once more caging in framing his neck, you definitely knew that this was something beyond casual. He ghosts kisses against the course of your jaw, trailing down to your neck, a hungering fluctuation. Your head is leaned backwards, body held in the confines of his towering-self and the solid wall; truthfully, it was a reality of euphoric suffocation with his hand gently resting around your neck and the whole situation with him and the wall, fingers resting on the skin for some stability rather than the purpose of choking you out. 

In all of his honesty, he doesn’t know where he’s obtained this abrupt ability to turn such a pretty girl into a melted pile of mush in his hands, considering his substantial lack of experience. However, he couldn’t deny putting it to good use. 

With a share of his hoarse huffs and your choked-up intoxicated sighs, he rounds the corner of your living room area and nearly trips over the threshold of the bedroom bringing you into it. You project your gaze onto his face – and bizarrely, find that you are unable to stifle a smile at the sheer sight of him, girlish and one possessing the aspects of authentic love, a rosy color blooming across your facial features. He cups the softness of your ass beneath the stretched material over your skirt, chuckling beneath his breath at the show of flusteredness occupying your face. He pecks chastely at your forehead before laying you down in the center of your mattress, hunched over, affectionately trailing his lips across the stretch of your shoulders and collarbones. He's gentle, stroking at the outlines of your sides soothingly, getting your heart-rate spiking and the blood in your veins pulsating, reveling in a newer warmth. 

“You might just be the prettiest damn thing I’ve ever seen,” he says to you in a hushed voice, palming at the dough-like flesh of your breasts through your top and bra before shedding them off of your chest. He stares dumb-founded at the caused nudity, his eyes downcast and a slight bob in his adam’s apple. “you must really like me a lot to let me do this to you, huh, prinzessin?” 

You bit the region of your lower lip, teeth sinking into the kiss-swollen rawness while you nodded your head, eyelashes fluttering up at him. “Like you so much, König. I…” you swallowed, brushing the back of your hand against the contours of his face. “I think you’re the sweetest guy in the world.” you finish breathily, eyes half-lidded in a sensual-ardent craze. 

He kisses your knuckles, and then the area beneath. “Yeah? I've got a bunch of feelings about you too.” König says, his hands now finding their way to the edges of your skirt and pulling the piece of fabric down to discard on the floor next to your bed.

“Really?” you respond with a ditsy little smile. 

A small smile creases his lips. “Of course I do. How do you think we’ve even managed to end up like this in the first place?” he says, “Feelings and a beautiful girl do have their tolls on a man.” 

And there is when those carved, rugged hands of his do the most predictable; fingertips over lace and hooked into the waistband, dragging down that last article of modesty down and giving him a full worth’s perspective of the girl he had longed after, and not so shamefully, fell in love with in a single night. Desperation is put at the forefront of his mind from this point and on – since the manner of which he plants his knees into the mattress and nestles himself in between the spread of your legs that now rested curled and caging around his hips was something truly explicit in nature. 

Calloused fingers slip between your thighs within a matter of a few seconds, the pads of his fingertips massaging from your clit and right to the center of your puffy folds, glossed over with copious amounts of your slick. Your benefit of bringing him right back to your dorm room, a man with an eagerness to pull an orgasm out of such an angel of a girl. 

König has that terminal objective in mind as he observes the way your lashes flutter over your lash-line, his index and middle finger extended  – pressing against your clit and moving with just enough pressure to draw a few gasps and softened mewls from your lips. You’re left writhing on the sheets, hips elevated off of the bed due to the sensual arch of your back, and panting out his name so pathetically your own voice was far from recognizable; like you would lose all genuine sanity if he wouldn’t just get straight to the point.

To your luck, he doesn’t hesitate – because he to is way too pent-up, and in some dire need of simulation – and disengages his fingers away from your pulsating cunt just to lock your legs in two muscular biceps, his head finding its own heaven right there in between your squeezing thighs wrapped around his head. Drills his tongue into your silken walls and gives you the blissful sensation of being stuffed full with just that. He’s only ever seen this in the casual porno here and there, sure, but the real thing was something distinctly new to him; made him feel like not a beginner, but more on the side of heavy experience on knowing how to coax a pretty cunt to open up for him. 

You feel his stubble graze over your sensitivity, and the curved ridge of his nose bumping right up against your clit additionally. A union near impossible for your cunt to not squeeze around his tongue that was so expertly getting you stupefied for him in all the right ways – it was overwhelming in some sense, but you would surely not be lying if it you said that König, withdrawn and mannered-craze, had definitely ruined you for any other man on sexual terms. 

“Doing good up there so far, engel?” he asks, a slight growl to his accent with the muffle of his mouth stuffed of you. 

“Yes! just… don’t stop, please,” you manage to whisper back breathily, fingers lacing and gently tugging through the now-unkempt bits of his hair. “feels so good.” 

Your mouth is left open, head slanted back, and your doe eyes now hooded-over as you gazed down at where his broad, large figure had resided. His tongue fills you up, plunging in back-and-forth motions until the messy combination of his spit and your arousal began to make a soaking mess right between your thighs, drooling down your skin and collecting in a small pool underneath you in a lewd sight. He’s got you quite literally trapped between this bordering exhilaration of his euphoric ministrations and his rooted physicality below you. 

He’s rather sloppy with how he’s eating you out, lips kissing at your folds in a near-disgusting-erotic implication of making out with them. You feel the warmth of his breath against you; the coarseness of his stubble simultaneously pressing there. He drags the muscle of his tongue over your clit repeatedly, his gaze fully focused on the overwhelming neediness that was slowly beginning to dissipate your natural consciousness. At this point, his cock was straining up through his boxers and the suffocating fabric of his jeans – albeit his belt being undone and his pants pulled down to only his hip-bones in a poor attempt of getting them off. 

On your end, you were submerged in the hands of his treatment. Your glistening, doe eyes glazed over with arousal and the small bits of wetness gracing the lengths of your lashes. Your lips are kiss-swollen and tinted a faint blush-red, lip gloss smeared at the corners and difficult to really make-out if it was really product or the residue of his own saliva from his sensual, hungry kisses. Your hands rest on top of his that were keeping your thighs parted – that is, until he fully registers your touch and instead keeps a gentle hold on both of your hands amidst the intimate scenario. Large fingers laced with your manicured ones, his thumbs drawing small circles into the forms of your knuckles poking out while his sweaty palms lovingly press up against yours. 

König’s going down on you like his life depends on it, some excessive lapping and kissing, over and over again. one of his hands release from yours, two of his fingers nudging their way into you beside his tongue – a stuttering in your breathing patterns to accompany the fucked-out expression of your pretty, ruined face sleeked with sweat. You’re fully convinced that was the peak of your euphoria, cunt squeezing so firmly around his tongue and fingers pumping without pause, hitting that sensitive spot of nerves. it was a requited sentiment – his rigid cock aching to be freed from their denim confines, your cunt dripping out of neediness and warmth – and you both knew it, though not verbally expressed, that you needed one another to really get down to being the pinnacles of each other’s deepest physical wants. perfectly-timed. 

It's not long before you succumb to his doings, hips lifting off the mattress a few inches and squirming against him, hand tightening to his as your mouth locks in a momentary position of being hung open, and nearly all the possible sounds of an orgasmic reverie pulling from your throat. König kisses against your folds, more delicately this time, then grazing his lips up to your pelvic bone and worshipping the skin there. Slow and sensual. A tender contact to contrast the aftershocks of your release you were still inevitably riding out at the moment. Your cunt flexes around his remaining digits one last time, before softening and releasing; he takes this as a sign, hesitantly pulling out with a coarse sigh. 

He sits on his heels, durable hands easily maneuvering your body to his chest and sitting you up against the nude sturdiness of himself. “You put on quite a show, don’t you?” he muses, kissing the side of your head with the smoothest of pecks. 

You arch your back into him, entire head mentally stimulated on all of him. “Where'd you learn how to do that?” you question, mildly-dumbfounded and wallowing in his sexual expertise, dexterity. 

“That's for me to know, and you to find out, meine liebe.” he teases to you, rubbing the tip of his nose against your scalding cheek. 

You huff out, rolling your eyes. Cheeky. “Then… enough chat and let me ‘find out’.” you bit your lower lip at him enticingly, sore cunt almost-instinctively rubbing up against the erected, center portion of his jeans and staining the fabric with the pearl-esque mess of your arousal. A whine, docile and lenient, comes from you at the grasp of understanding what you were doing. König’s aware, too. None of you were a cut above. An orchestration of deep groans and much more higher, feminine sounds of an equal intoxicating high. The denim deepens in its color, thanks to that pretty little thing at the core of your legs painting all over it. 

König’s a big man, and a strong one at that. (for a nerd like him, he’s awfully muscular. has he got a side hustle? it really makes you wonder.) So, what kind of a man would he be to deny giving you just one more fuck? A genuine one, one that could really make you fall head over heels for him and have your little heart beating for him days after this night. 

He can just see it in your dolly little eyes, lashes batting at him while you were sat, naked, grinding on his lap like a bitch in heat, waiting for him to just do something. Anything at all. Before he knows it, he’s almost immediately giving into you, hands ridding the rest of his clothes and fishing out his fat cock from the last remnants of material. 

His cock smacks against the lower region of his abdomen once released. Bulky and heavy. In this state of a longing, aphrodisiac-like crave, the veins adorning him are more prominent, the blunt head leaking of an abundant quantity of pre-cum and decorating his subtly-tanned skin. The sight has you flushing and sent straight to a mindset of dumbification, some place where you’re pliant and completely in love with all of him; his seraphic body of masculinity seemingly crafted by the gods themselves, the profuse amount of worship he held for you. It’s almost comical how fast it’s taken you to fall for him in such little time. 

There’s so little to do now except to take you in position, give you the satisfaction of an unconditional, non-negotiable fuck out of reverence. You’re given an eyeful of him once he turns you around, bending you over to linger above a disheveled bed – a safe haven made up of a messed, cum-stained mattress. He’s seductive, obviously, otherwise you wouldn’t be all vulnerable for him right now; fucked-over with the case of an ample heart, and an ache in your pussy – is this really the effect of a hunky-loser austrian had on you? No complaints. The guy’s sultry in his own way. 

He's as tall as always behind you, even on his knees. menacing, gentle bastard. His hands find a purchase on either sides of your bare hips, fingers molding into the flesh. A place carved out just for him. Sturdy hips attach to the fullness of your ass, sweat-on-sweat; has you whining beneath your breath like a sniveling dog, especially when the lips of your puffy cunt cushion the length of his cock as he slides in between yours folds  – collecting slick, an audible squelch from the mess reverberating through your heated ears. The flushed head taps against your swollen clit before gliding into you with precision. Your back automatically forces itself into a deeper arch to push back against him, arms encased to one of your pillows to which you muffled your incoherent pleasure-made sounds. 

Your once-stubborn pussy, now so well-trained to be compliant for him, took in his shallow thrusts. Not much, but what was there to expect? A rough fuck wasn’t your thing – and a majority of campus’s male population wouldn’t even put a girl’s vulnerability during intimacy in the forefronts of their minds – so you were thankful for him. 

“Christ, you’re huge.” you nearly sob out in a whimper, with the divergence of a dumbified, slack grin on your ruined lips. 

He grunts, “Takes a little to get used to, eh?” the smack of a kiss lands against the face of your right shoulder. “You doing okay? Could always eat you out again, y’know… doesn’t hurt to.” 

“Yeah – yeah. I’m fine,” a small gasp leaves you, unfamiliar with something so foreign filling your guts up at such a pace. “fuck what I feel, god, just fuck me.” 

He rubs the sides of your hips with his thumbs, stilling within you, and slightly hunching over in position – the chiseled and softened fat of his torso rubbing up against your sheen, curved back, his hands falling from their grace at your hips and instead settling between the crevices of your smaller-in-size fingers. They lace like ribbon through eyelets, fingertips pressing down intently at the tops of your palms, and his head plummeting to the curve of your shoulder to your neck where he conceals his face with ease. 

His thrusts are no longer those of a gentle, bonafide lover, but instead restored with something more starved – like he’ll die a poor man if he doesn’t modify your insides into the shape of him. 

“Jesus, you’re fuckin’ wet, engel.” lips pucker and latch onto your neck for gentle caresses, “You needed this, can see it in – Scheiß – those little eyes. “ 

“Mmph – yeah.” you croak out, throat hung out and dry. Sandpaper for a throat. 

“Smart girl. you love me, huh?” König forces you into a deeper arch, coercing that love right out. No oral communication needed. He collapses further ove you and takes the angle of your chin, tilting it in a fragile-hold from the pillow as he holds it up – right enough to meet his dilated, enveloped-of-eyelids gaze. so he takes advantage of this posture and kisses you and shares the taste of him, licking you, worshipping you, tongues overlapping one another right about to define the proximity; pistoning, widened hips and a malleable receiver. 

Then you do the sluttiest thing a girl like you has ever done – grind your hips back onto the canvas of his crotch, his single hand holding you tight against him, rubbing intermittently across your lower stomach when he shifts all his of his focus onto his calculated motions and the way your cunt drips onto him. Down the length of him all, and discarded below to the sheets. 

He's so explicitly hard he could feel it all around him, his muscles, his throbbing head, and you’re no better, squeezing him so tightly that he’s suffocated. The good type of suffocation, one that makes you feel like you’re all blissed out. It’s one whole mass of flesh and intimate rapture. He thrusts harder, squeezes harder, and you continue to grind back onto him – the cycle continues, dragging on and on, and you’re aware this is no longer some hook-up – it’s gotten way too intimate now to be classified as such. 

A string of higher-pitched yes, yes, yeses! are spoken like a prayer from you and your unable-to-be-shut mouth. And then, because he can’t really help himself anymore, he wraps his arms around your full torso and presses into you more, thrusting and thrusting to the point where he’s too psychologically stimulated on sex, fucking you, desperate, adoring, each motion enhanced with the softcore-aggressive, dragging, shoving, capture of this fragile body of yours. The pressure’s a give-and-take situation on you and him. 

You;re inclined to a drawn-out call of his name as he drives all mustered force right into you, nails clutching crescents to the surface of stained linen, and your cunt coating him in that same wetness that’s been drooling down your legs. 

König mutters a gruff fucking take it, prinzessin, before just one single plundering thrust for you to come undone, your orgasm so suddenly, so harshly, occurring out of you, a fervent gushing erupting. Man’s first one-on-one orgasm, and he’s just so managed to make you squirt. A madman, surely. Even he thinks it’s unreal – something straight out of his PC monitors, out of the porn websites he’s browsed when his hormones were on a high every other day; he’s a degenerate turned man-of-his-dreams. 

A soft cry is perceived from you as he grinds his hips once more, cock kissing sweetly up to your cervix, his pelvis rubbing into your pubic bone – and you mewl, orgasm dragging itself so needlessly that another surge of fluid spurts from you, painting his abdomen in an array of glistening transparence. He won’t stop, you think. 

That is, until he’s feeling all sensitive in his lower abdomen, sharp and tangible by a sensual inebriation. He pulls out – avoiding the next-few-days-consequence of knocking some poor girl up –  and cums across your folds, spewing lines; hot, scorchingly hot. “You’re something else,” he says, totally out of breath, exuding heat and sweating, rivulets tainting his skin of moisture. 

He’s an accomplished man now.

“So hard to believe you were a virgin before this.” you said, rolling onto your back, the side of your face smushed into a pillow, the quivering of your body signifying the aftermath of his relentlessness still existent. He’s laid down next to you on another pillow, staring blankly at the ceiling with an opened, heated mouth. 

“Porn’s pretty accessible, not that hard to pick up on some skills.” 

“Oh, you’re a perv,” you say, half-jokingly. “But what’s new? Can’t expect an innocent man anymore. Clean slate and all.” 

“It’s a fucked-up world, schatz. You’re just a little, eh… stupid, oblivious, when it comes to the male gender.” he shrugs. 

You smack him blithely on the bicep, a mock-irked expression to the ceiling. “You’re all sickos, that’s why,” you shoot back, “and I’m just a proper lady. I don’t indulge in such things.” 

“Proper lady my ass. You look the part, but anyone can see past those sweet ribbons and beady eyes of yours – minxy piece of work you are.” 

You pout. “You’re mean.” 

He turns his head to the side. “It’s all honesty,” he says, sitting up to the headboard and stretching out his aching shoulders. “And if you’re ever in the mood again, I’ve got my practice, and I can say – I’m not that bad at this whole ‘screwing’ thing.” 

Sighing, you rest your cheek on his slick thigh. “You make it sound like you’re just another campus-fuck offer,” you giggle sweetly, “What did I really do to you, König?”

"Nothing, nothing at all,” he responds, brushing your disheveled hair and making the poor attempts at adjusting your little girlish ribbons to their original state. “Other than having the most prettiest little thing at my disposal, nothing.”

© FAWNPIRES 2024 — AN EXPLICIT, MULTIFANDOM BLOG. copying, translating, or claiming any of my works is prohibited.

[lifesliced]

❝ actually, i was thinking about taking the day off — it’s been so cold and rainy — and without classes to keep me busy, i think i’ve read almost every book in the house at least three times by now. ❞     he’s asking without asking;    stay in where it’s warm? or go out and seek shelter??

[p0rchc0ll4ps3]

the real reason why they never promoted eyes to lieutenancy is because he woulda' shown up to the function with his sunglasses on and his collar popped like some kind of unprofessional punk

(the real real reason is that he was too damn adhd and a little too graadian for comfort (also the collar thing. that still applies actually.))

[insufferablemod]

suffering....... the pain of deciding if i should stuck 2 the hs colors or put em in something with actual colors....................... HHMMMMNGgg

[randoofan0m]

am i the only one when i first watched Newsies Live that identified everyone by their socks? like, jack davey less and race were obvious, but I still got everyone else confused so I did the sock thing and now I can figure out who's who

[arolesbianism]

One thing that makes my life oh so hard is that I don't actually care for most of the popular dupes that much. I don't Not like them to be clear, I do like them, I just also feel like I'm staring at a color blind test whenever I see ppl talk abt their favorite dupes and everyone involved is obsessed with the same like 3 dupes that I just sort of like well enough and nothing more. Sorry women I don't actually care abt Bubbles that much 😔

[supahstarrr]

i love my man whit but his outfit look so tacky and he looks hella stiff sometimes...

[bi-writes]

so idk where i got this idea but mercenary!ghost x fem!reader because he's scary and mean and dangerous but then he sees some girl's ass in light blue denim.

notes about reader: as always, i tend to write readers described as curvy because im curvy and we deserve attention from 6'4 beefcakes who are soft only for us. reader is a civilian.

mercenary!ghost (part 1/?)

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, dark!ghost, mentions of ghost's past canon trauma (domestic abuse + violence), mw3 spoilers, violence and gore + mentions of murder and extortion, mentions of reader + domestic abuse, protective!simon, size kink (reader is described as much smaller than simon, easily manhandled by him), pet names (luv, bunny + rabbit, puppy, angel face), reader learns she has a dark side and she likes it, nsfw thoughts about reader, suggestive touching (fem!receiving)

the sound of the burner phone pings on the desk in front of him. when he picks it up, he narrows his eyes as he reads the message displayed across the screen.

DEPOSITED.

when he opens his laptop, his eyes scan over the balance on an offshore account, and he relaxes when he sees the hefty balance climb just a little higher. he closes the device once he's satisfied with what he sees; and like always, he tastes the warmth of that satisfaction. it's a nice high, but it won't last, and then he'll need to feed the gaping hole that lives in him.

it remains hungry. he has never been able to close it--it has only ever gotten wider, ripped at the seams and torn at the edges every time another body close to him drops.

the high is poison. but even if it kills him, no one will miss him. so he picks up the handgun that lays haphazard on the bed, and he tucks it into the back of his jeans.

he passes by the mirror as he fits a dark denim jacket over his shoulders. he stares back at himself, a recognizable beast of a man staring right back. he pulls his hoodie up over him, and in the shadow of it, all he can see are his dark eyes, pale skin peeking through the eyeblack that has lightened up with the wear of it throughout the day.

he craves something strong and warm tonight. he itches for something soft, too, something that makes him forget the red on his ledger, even if for only a few hours.

there is nothing quite strong enough to wipe that kind of stain away. he is nothing if not a reaper, and he buries bodies with the same tenacity that he had when he wore his country's flag on his chest. this time, however, he does not take orders--he names his price.

he thinks something is wrong with him. some used to say that it was his courage that brought him back from the dead--that his heart is too strong, his will to live too much, and that is how he continues to open his eyes and live another day. but he doesn't agree with this thought, because he doesn't really think he feels anything at all.

he doesn't feel human. he doesn't feel alive. the only thing that makes him feel any sort of vulnerability is how red his own blood is when he bleeds. when his scars heal jagged and crooked, it is because there is something underneath the skin. but he feels nothing inside--no remorse, no guilt, he is not sorry.

he does not check to see if those men are innocent. he does not care about the names that end up on his list. he doesn't ask questions. and he thinks something is wrong with him because he sleeps at night just fine now; the nightmares have gone. he is alone, and it is peaceful.

there are no voices. there is only silence. and there is something wrong with him.

the pub is quiet. it is a weekday, and the only patrons are here after a long day's work, and they all look into the depths of their half-empty glasses hoping to find relief there. there is none, but they will finish their glasses hoping it might be dissolved in the alcohol.

he asks for two fingers of bourbon. it stings when it goes down, but then it settles warm. he is poured another two fingers of it, but before he can pick it up, someone else grips the glass and tips it back to swallow it down.

the glass hits the wood of the counter with an echoing thud, and you cough out a fuck as you settle into the seat beside him. you run a trembling hand over your face, and he notices immediately the red of your knuckles and the splitting of the skin there. they are fresh; the bruising is still new, and the blood is just barely beginning run down the back of your hand.

he leans over the bar, swiping the whole bottle of bourbon, and he silently pours more into the glass, hitting it towards you before picking up a new glass and filling it generously.

"who's the lucky bastard?" he asks, and your eyes flick to the cuts on the back of your hand before going back to the dark swirling colors of the drink.

"i'm sure he'll be coming in here any second to introduce himself."

the pub doors slam open, and there is a man coming in, chest heaving, dark hair falling over his forehead in sweaty curls that do nothing to hide the clear bruise on his face the split of his lip. his eyes move over the room before they settle on you, and his boots fall heavy as he makes his way over.

ghost sees his intentions clear immediately. the way his hand twitches at his side, the angry glare, the uncontrollable urge to hurt and to take and to control coming off of him like steam.

he has seen this kind of man before. this man was the one that kept him up at night as a child. this man was the one that scared his mum, that drove his brother to chase vices, that tore apart a house that should've been filled with something warm and sticky and kind into one marred with teeth, rotten and putrid and forgotten.

his hand goes for the back of your neck, and you close your eyes and tense in the anticipation, but it never comes. a strong hand grips his outstretched one, and the man cries out as ghost twists it behind his back and uses his other hand to slam his face into the wood of the bar, trapping him there.

the bartender does not even flinch, just continues to wipe down glasses. the patrons continue to stare into the abyss of their sorrow.

you jump a little, your head snapping to the side where the man squirms and sputters, his face going pale from the paw of a hand gripping him by the back of the neck and shoving his face into the counter. if he pushes any harder, you wonder if it'd splinter and fray, dig into the bones of his bruised cheek.

"this man botherin' ya, yeah?"

your eyes finally flick up. you do not know what you expect, but it isn't this. you can only see his eyes; they scare you. you do not lie because you aren't entirely sure how far his kindness will go.

"yes," you whisper, and when the man tries to spit at you, a rough gloved hand grips his curls and positions his head against the edge of the counter, forcing his mouth open until the top row of his teeth bite the wood.

"y'keep talkin' to her, n'it'll be the last time you talk, hear that, mate? y'talk to me, n'me only."

you swallow hard, and the man trembles. a strong boot hits the back of his knees, and then he's crumbling to the ground, his jaw straining as the counter is still forced against his mouth. hot, pained tears come down his face, and then he addresses you.

"what did he do?"

"bad first date," is all you can manage to sputter. he grips the man by the scruff of his neck before pulling him off to speak, tilting his head to the side as he observes the begging man on his knees.

"y'try to put your hands on'er?"

"i-it wasn't...like that! i-it was just a mis...a misunderstanding, please! please--please tell him--!"

"don't like fuckin' liars either," is the only warning given before his mouth is forced to bite the counter, and then a sharp elbow comes down on his head. you jump in surprise at the suddenness of it all, and you close your eyes when you hear the crunch of teeth being broken. his scream is enough to rattle the pub, but when you look around, it's as if nothing at all has happened. it is quiet, and all the bartender does is shake their head.

when you open your eyes, he's crawling on his hands and knees out of the pub, and what he leaves behind is a mess of blood and teeth and fluid that are splattered against the floor at your feet. you shake as you look up at him, stiff in your seat and soft tears coming down your face.

he towers over you. you have to tilt your head back between your shoulders to look at him face-to-face. you cannot see his face; he hides it behind dark fabric, but his eyes talk loud. they are dark, and they are dull, and you realize as you stare up at him that he is not phased in the slightest by what he had just done. in fact, he steps into your space, and the squelch of blood under his boot doesn't seem to bother him. he wears black, and you wonder, momentarily, if he wears such a color to hide the red hiding between the threads of the fabric. the red he can't wash away.

"let me look at ya, little rabbit."

you flinch when he knocks your knees apart, spreading them to make space for the width of him. he reaches up with one gloved hand and grips your chin, tilting your head to either side to see if you are hurt anywhere but your hand. when he is satisfied with his observations, he cups the expanse of your throat, smoothing those big fingers along the pulsing vein there and feeling the way you swallow.

so alive. so soft. a pretty little bunny, dropped into his waiting hands.

his eyes fall, and he takes you in. wide hips that take up the seat you're sitting in, hugged so nicely by light blue denim jeans. they curve over the swell of your ass, and he wonders how much of it would fit in his palm--he thinks about how it might feel to spread them apart and taste the succulent sweetness that he knows exists between your thighs and how your mouth might look slack jawed and wide open for him.

you look like a good girl, even with bloody knuckles.

then he follows the line of your shirt. it's a simple t-shirt tucked into your jeans, but the neckline gives a nice peek of you and the curve of your tits--they sit so nicely there, all perky, and ghost thinks they look lonely. they would be better off in his mouth or squeezing his cock between them or pebbling between his dirty gloved fingers.

filthy. disgusting. he is scarred all over, and you look so soft and sweet, with those tender puppy eyes and the way your lips tremble, and he bets you kiss all soft and slippery. he bets your cunt is tight and with enough coaxing, he could make you drench his skin with something decadent and slick, with whatever drools into your panties. he imagines it is there now, even as you tremble and shake and plead with your eyes for him to let go of your throat.

but ghost is not a good man. he does not feel; he is not a man at all. he is a beast in the shape of one, disguised, and he brings misery to everything he touches. he knows he will do it to you, too--touching pretty girls, he leaves them with burns. they are not the same after they are with him, and he wants to feel bad about it, he wants to feel something, but he does not. he feels nothing.

"you olright, luv?"

you nod frantically, putting a hand over his wrist that holds you, and he almost laughs. your hand is so much smaller than his own. if he squeezes his hand just a little harder, he figures it would not take much to break what lies beneath it. he leans in, and you gulp when your thighs trap his hips. he is warm, a furnace that burns, but you relax when the side of his mask nuzzles against your face.

he is a dog, and he is fond of you.

you should run. you should hit him like you hit your wretched date, and you should run, far, away from him, swear off men for good and never allow one in your space again lest they be as beastly as this. you should run while you can, but you are a bunny not yet in his trap, and you still have time to escape.

but then both of your eyes open at the same time, and his eyes meet your own, and then--oh.

the cage snaps shut. it rattles around you. it is small and confined, but you don't realize what it is yet because you can still breathe, and it is still warm, and you are still soft and alive and here.

your face softens, and his eyes flicker down to your lips as you lick them. maybe he was right. liars are bad. men like the one you were with before were scum. you had been with men like that before, you had seen the destruction they brought to those they thought they loved. when they wrought fear and made others bleed, they never got in trouble. no one cared to do to them what they deserved because they silenced their lambs and slaughtered the light out of them.

it is biblical--an eye for an eye. if they take from you, why can't you take from them?

it is brutish men like this one that do what others are too timid to. your thighs close around his hips, and you feel something digging into your leg, something metal and heavy tucked into his jeans. a weapon, but you imagine it is a mercy because you have an inkling that what he does with his hands is so much worse. bullets are clean and fast; his hands are not.

johnny would tell him to let you go. he does, over his shoulder, spitting at him to leave, to let you slip through his fingers and find your way out, to open the cage.

the wee lass--look at 'er angel face. let 'er go--not meant for this, LT. she scares. 's in 'er eyes. won't last.

but he does not feel. he is not human. there is something wrong with him, he knows it, but he doesn't care. he will ruin you, and he should feel bad, but he can't, he doesn't. and then there it is--your eyes are flickering low, eyeing the mask, and you are wondering how much effort it would take to push it up and lick into his mouth, taste him, suck the warmth of the bourbon from his mouth and replace it with your own.

he will kill again. the cage is shut, it is locked, and he is watching the bunny in its cage, watching as it becomes aware of its surroundings, takes in what is new. but just like he figures, just like he knows, this little bunny has no idea what this cage is. she has no idea she is even in one.

fuck what johnny says. if johnny was like him, if he was not skin and bone but steel and reptile, he would not have died. he would have come back. he would have moved his head, shaken the blood off, and gotten back up, but he didn't, and he's not here, and he's not real--so fuck what he thinks, fuck what he says, fuck him because he left me, and i'm all alone, and if i don't devour and eat and tear apart, i will wither away because i am not me, i am something else--

he smiles under the mask. you notice it, the slight movement there, and you smile, too, suddenly. his hand falls, and the back of his knuckles graze over the swell of your breast, down your stomach, and then he's gripping your waist. that hand slips behind you, and you brace yourself with both hands on his chest as he cups one side of your ass. possessive and suffocating--you think maybe you should run again, but you don't want to.

you want something more. you want something a little rough, something a little sharp. you want something to tell you that a little blood is good sometimes. that answering blood with a little more blood was exactly how it should be. that we don't have to be docile, to back down. you want to be told that it's okay to bite.

there is something wrong with you.

[graysturns]

𝕗𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕞 | 𝕞.𝕤.

note: hey guys this is my first time posting my actual work and i’m kinda new to tumblr so pls be nice or i will cry ok thanks bye

warnings: idk smut ig

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

"babe please hurry up, we're already running late," matt sighs as he shuts the car door.

"i just need to get some shorts or something, i can't show up to your mom's house in these jeans, look at this" i lift the sweater wrapped around my waist, revealing the rip around my inner thigh.

he rolls his eyes and sulks behind me as we make our way inside the old navy in our hometown. i begin to scan the various women's clothing, looking for something basic, because it's too late to go back home and figure out a new outfit.

"will you hurry up and pick one? please, y/n. chris is texting me wondering where we are. they want to start eating without us and he's most definitely gonna eat all the mac and cheese."

i roll my eyes at him. "first of all, never call me by my government name. rude. and second, we just got here, breathe. we wouldn't be here if you hadn't grabbed my ass so harshly when we stopped at the gas station. you caused this by manhandling me, matthew." i shot back.

he sighs again as i grab a few different options in my size and head towards the fitting rooms. upon arrival, we notice there aren't any employees so i pick a stall and wave matt into the small room.

he looks up at me, then around at our surroundings, "are you sure? i don't think they allow multiple people in at once, i'll just wait here."

i roll my eyes again. "matthew! get in here! i need your opinion. this store is basically empty anyways. it's not a big deal, you've seen me naked before. let's not act so innocent."

he follows me in and takes a seat on the bench facing the door. i untie the sweater he lent me and throw it at his face. "rude!" he exclaims sassily, throwing the wad of clothing to the ground.

"uhm, excuse me, you're rude. you're the whole reason we're in this mess." i begin to remove the ripped pair of pants and pull a new one off its hanger.

facing the mirror on the door, i begin to pull the pair of mom jeans on before matt looks up from his phone and stops me.

"baby, i've never seen these panties on you before, are they new?" he smirks at me. i nod, swatting at his hands.

"wait stop, they're super cute, why haven't you shown me?" he looks up at me with those hypnotic blue eyes, brows furrowed.

i turn around, with the jeans still around my ankles and my hands on my hips. "do i need to inform you every time i purchase a new article of clothing, matt? it's just panties."

he wiggles his eyebrows at me, "when they make your ass look like that, then yeah, i must be notified immediately." he places me onto his lap, pulling the jeans all the way off my ankles so i can straddle him.

"baby we're running late, you're the one who keeps insisting, as much as i want to, we don't have time to fool around" i say to him between the open-mouthed kisses he begins to place on my neck.

he starts to take my top off, then gasps. "fuck the mac and cheese! it's a matching set, now i really can't believe you kept this from me." he drools at the sight of the lacy see-through bra, rubbing his thumb over my visible nipple. he yanks down the thin fabric, causing my boobs to spill over. with one arm wrapped around me, clutching my ass, he uses the other to massage my breast, all while kissing my neck. i feel myself starting to give in, biting my lip to stifle a moan. "matt, i-i don't think we can do this here." i slightly protest, but he reaches up to kiss me, and bites my bottom lip.

i'm done for.

he's kissing and grabbing and rubbing all over me and i'm a mess. i can never say no to him, he knows how to manipulate my body to want exactly what he wants. i can feel his bulge through his jeans, and i grind on it slowly, making my clit throb against it.

suddenly, he lifts me and flips me around so im sat on his lap, and we're both facing the mirror. he's unbuckling his belt, then his pants. he wraps one arm around my waist and lifts me slightly while he pulls down his pants and boxers, revealing his dick, standing tall and proud.

he makes eye contact with me in the mirror and grabs my face, smushing my cheeks together, and whispers in my ear, "i want you to watch baby, watch how good you can take my whole dick inside of you, pay real close attention."

he smirks at my widened eyes, and moves the panties to one side, rubbing the wetness all around and then on my clit.

"you normally get to scream all you want, but not this time baby, okay? you need to be really really quiet for me, got it?" he covers my mouth.

i nod quickly, and without warning, he picks me up and thrusts his entire length into me. i hold back a scream, and i feel tears falling down my cheeks. no matter how many times, how long we've been together, i'll never be used to his size.

he gives me a second to adjust, and then begins to pound into me over and over again, my back sliding up and down his clothed chest. i'm watching as my breasts bounce up and down and his dick glides in and out, in and out. he uncovers my mouth, keeping one hand on my waist, and starts to rub circles on my clit with the pad of his thumb, making me roll my eyes back further in pleasure.

he begins to nibble on my ear, then moves down to suck the spot right underneath. as he kisses down, i feel him bite down on my shoulder to suppress a moan.

"matthew!" i hiss at the pain, but it feels so good.

"shh!" he pinches my nipple, causing me to let out a whimper.

i grab his wrist, stopping his movement, and smile at him, "my turn." i bend down slightly, still facing the mirror so he has a full view of my ass while i bounce on his dick. he presses down on my back, sliding his hand down to secure a firm grip on my neck. he curses under his breath, trying hard not to make any noise while i'm aggressively riding him. he places both hands on my ass grasping and slapping occasionally, until i sit back up and we're making eye contact in the reflection. he's rubbing on my clit again, using his other hand to massage my left breast and i can feel a knot forming in my abdomen.

i turn around so i'm straddling him, and continue to bounce up and down. he grabs me by my throat and kisses me roughly, before planting a hard slap on my ass. i move faster, and he groans, grasping my ass tighter, leaving hand-shaped bruises for him to stare at later.

"i'm almost there baby. fuck, you're the most beautiful thing i've ever laid my eyes on." he whispers in my ear and i close my eyes, feeling my climax creeping close.

we start moving in sync, until my legs shake, and i feel his dick twitch, then shoot his load into me, causing me to finish as well, leaving me trembling on his lap. i drop my head forward onto his shoulder, desperately trying to catch my breath

he wraps his arms around my shoulders, kissing the side of my head. "wow, what we just did was probably super illegal, " i laugh at his comment, but then frown when i realize what we've done.

"fucking hell, matt. we can't buy pants now, i feel too awkward going up to the register after we've been in this fitting room for so long, they probably know what we've been doing!" i cover my face with my hands.

"baby that's alright," he grabs my wrists, pulling my hands away from my face. "just put your clothes back on, we'll go back to the car, and you can just borrow some sweats when we get home."

i stare at him, mouth gaping in realization. "are you serious? we could've just done that in the first place! i'm so dumb, why didn't i think of that?"

he stands and helps me put my shirt on, followed by the ripped jeans, "it's alright y/n, i didn't think of it either. let's go home, i'm starving." he smiles at me, rubbing small circles on my back.

"i love you, matt" i look up at him, with red cheeks, wondering how i'm going to leave this dressing room with any dignity.

"i love you. don't worry, i know what you're thinking. just hold my hand and we'll walk back to the car, c'mon." he laces our fingers together and kisses me on the forehead, unlocking the door and stepping out of the changing room.

luckily enough, nobody seemed to even notice us weaving through the aisles and exiting the store. we managed to get back in matt's car without a single interruption, and soon after arriving at his house, where chris had demolished the entire dish of mac and cheese.

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

ahh can’t believe i’m posting this but fuck it we ball

to be added to taglist comment here

[cottonconnielvr]

❥MONDAY — c. springer

seven days a week.

PAIRINGS ✩ — plug!connie x fem!black!reader

WARNINGS ✩ — both are under influence, spitting, usage of 🍃, hair pulling if you squint, fuck idk i suck at warnings just smut at the end leave me alone i can’t deal rn + i’ll come back to edit

CONNIE has been unfocused more than usual. He has high energy usually and is bouncing from task to task but today, he can’t seem to grasp reality.

“Bro is you good?” Onyankopon says in between a laugh. He had been calling Connie’s name for about a minute. Connie looked up from the counter, multiple packs of weed sitting on the counter. Ony was looking back from his spot on the cream colored couch, his dark green tracksuit making him stand out.

“…Yeah” Connie nodded his head at him, continuing to place weed on a scale. “Yeah ight…i’ve been calling your name” Ony walks around to the kitchen island. “Well I didn’t hear you” Connie snaps back at him.

Ony smacks his teeth, bucking at Connie. “Yo sassy ass be around Sasha too much”. Connie shook his head. “You remember that one drop we did at Marco’s yesterday….” Connie suddenly brings up.

Ony looks up, thinking back to the previous day. The party was big, he gave a couple college girls a 3.5 then left by himself. “Yeah…why?” Ony asked in confusion, now wondering if something happened to make him bring it up. Ony and Connie were like brothers, they had committed to this game together. They protected each other all the time.

“Do you remember seeing Sasha with a girl wearing pink beside her?” Connie specifies, thinking back to his first time spotting you.

“Yeah you talking about Y/N?” Connie nods his head, Y/N

“What about her?”

“Nothing, jus asking” Connie lies to Ony. There was something. Connie’s mind had been suffocated by the thought of you. He remembers how you smiled at everyone Sasha introduced you to. He also remembered how you looked up into his eyes, yours red and low.

He told you his name and you told him his– atleast he thought you did. The music was playing so loud he didn’t hear you. But that was the last thing he was worried about, he was focused on the way you were staring him down.

Since he woke up this morning he’s been thinking about the mystery girl who sucked the soul out of him. The mystery girl who’s pussy was the wettest and warmest he’s ever been in.

He cried everytime he came that night, that’s never happened before. He hoped you didn’t notice, not wanting to creep you out. He also wondered if you enjoyed it as much as he did, and if you were thinking about this particular hookup all day as well.

He’s never felt anything like you before. You had to be a crystal bitch or somethingggg like pussy putting spells onna nigga🫃🫃

He just hopes he can meet you again, for a proper introduction.

❥

You sip on your Starbucks Frappuccino, two small Tiffany and Co. bags in your other hand. You were walking down a shopping outlet, deciding to spend your free time shopping. For the past couple of days, you’ve been straight partying. The most recent one was a bit memorable though. You were pretty cross faded and had some of the best sex in your life. You couldn’t exactly remember who it was with though. He was wearing light blue and white, you can accurately remember. Tattoos all over and he smelled amazing. But his name?…..can’t exactly remember that one. You just brushed it off though, maybe he’ll come around again but you weren’t worried.

Your phone started to vibrate in your back pocket. You grabbed it before reading the contact name, ‘Sash🫶🏾🤍’

You pressed the green icon, Sasha’s face appearing on the screen. “You gotta come to this kickback” She says before you can speak.

“Girlll, i’ve been out for days. I think I still have a hangover” You whined, looking up at the Coach sign before walking in. “Well it’s not like an actual kickback. Jean is just throwing a get together,” You sighed, looking down at Sasha as she was munching on some chips. “Pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!! It’s gonna be like fifty people max” She pleaded, bringing her face super close to the camera.

“Okay fineee,” You groan, sipping the last of your Frappuccino. “What’s the dress code?”

“Mmmm… sexy casual” Sasha nodded her head. “Kk, I’m gonna finish up shopping babe. Send me the addy” You said your goodbyes before hanging up.

❥

Connie laid back on Jean’s couch manspreading. He had a blunt in one hand, the other resting on the couch. He had no tasks for the rest of the day and decided on stopping by Jean’s, a mutual friend.

His eyes were already red and low, he could start to feel his munchies kick in. He smoked the last of the roach before putting it out. There’s a good amount of people here. Maybe about 30 or 40.

Some people smoking hookah in the corner, some outside just chatting. The vibe was calmer than what the house parties he usually attends are.

“Ay Con!” Connie looks back from his spot on the couch. “Come take a shot!” Eren called him over,holding up a shot glass. Connie wasn’t much of a drinker but did every once in a while. It simply wasn’t for him. Standing up and walking over to the island, he hears a familiar voice speaking from the door.

“Wowwww shots without us?!” Sasha walks over from the door, you trailing behind her. Connie can feel his heartbeat pick up. It’s you. Your now standing infront of him, looking 10x more stunning.

“Y’all remember Y/N” Sasha gestured to you while snatching the bottle from Eren.

“Hey” You flashed a smile that made Connie jr harden just a bit. Your eyes wandered around the room. Not too many people, but enough for you to have to raise your voice a little if you’re trying to have a conversation.

Your eyes stopped on a pair that were only staring right back at you. You could feel your breath hitch. Holy shit no way

❥

The night has been filled with pure tension. Sexual tension at that. You’ve come to find out that ,mystery boy with a huge dick, name is actually Connie. The entire night he’s had his eyes on you, both of you keeping eye contact. A part of you kept wanting to look back from your spot on the couch. You’d only immediately find his eyes. It was as if you were silently conversing. You both wanted more of eachother, but how do you approach your “one” night stand asking for just another round.

“Imma go get a refill” You say to Jean, passing him the hookah. He nodded before continuing to converse with Sasha.

You walked into the kitchen, holding your red cup in one hand. Much to your surprise, Connie was the only one in the kitchen. He was sitting on the counter, his head down and all his attention focused on the blunt he was currently rolling.

You walk over to where all the bottles were, Connie’s head immediately lifting as he gets a whiff of sweet perfume. You smile to yourself when you feel his stare on you. You pour a little hennessy in your cup before turning around.

Connie’s looking at you with his eyes low and redder than before. You keep eye contact with him as you sip from your cup. Your gloss staining your cup.

Connie watches you closely, focusing on every single detail about you. He’s wondering what makes you so different from any other girl he’s been with.

“Why aren’t you with everyone else?” You decide to speak first, breaking the ice. Connie can feel his dick twitch at the sound of your voice, a slight rasp from the burning of the alcohol.

Your thighs clench together as you watch Connie lick his lips. “Shit…..guess I was waiting for you to come to me.” His voice coming out low and deep.

The tension in the kitchen is so high right now, even Ony who’s sitting on the couch can feel it.

A lazy smile breaks out on your face, Connie’s too as he licks the blunt. His eyes never look away from yours, dragging his tongue across the wood. You can even see his tongue piercing that was deep in your pus-

“Mhmm, well i’m here now so…” You trail off, walking a bit closer to him. You can smell his cologne from where you stand. Your intoxication was making this no better for you, as well as the PartyNextDoor that’s playing in the background.

You watch as Connie lights his blunt. He brings it to his lips before puffing twice, just to make sure it’s lit. He sucks in a breath before blowing the smoke out. He reaches his hands out, holding out the blunt to you.

You hesitate before moving closer, taking it from him. You reach for a napkin to wipe your lipgloss off but Connie only grabs your wrist. “You don’t have too, i’m okay with it”

“Oh…okay” You bring the blunt up to your lips, the smoke immediately making you cough. “God damn, strong ass…” You can’t finish your sentence through a fit of coughs. Connie lightly laughs as he reaches to grab an unopened water bottle on the counter.

You could already feel like you were baked off of just one hit, your eyes looking a little sleepy. “I’m already high what the fuck…” You blinked up at Connie.

“I guess i’m just used to it” He hits it again. “You’re literally smoking the devils lettuce. That shit came straight from hell” You take a gulp of water.

Connie could tell you were a lot less tense. For some reason you trusted him like a lot… even though you’ve never had a full conversation with him.

“I enjoyed last night a lot” You lean against the counter, head tilting. You know that you’re being bold all of a sudden but fuck, this man was too fine.

Behind his faux chill demeanor, Connie was freaking out. He wanted to feel you again. He never wanted you to stop talking and he could look at you for hours.

“Yeah, me too” He’s fighting his anxiety, trying not to seem to excited to be talking to you. He was praying, even crossing his toes that he would be able to get another look at your naked body.

You bit on your lower lip, contemplating on whether or not you should keep making the moves.

“I’m gonna…go to the bathroom” You trail off, not giving Connie another word before walking off with your cup.

Connie almost jumps off the counter, fighting the urge to throw his rolling tray to the side and follow you right to the bathroom. He wanted you to keep talking to him. Connie watched you walk up the stairs, he couldn’t miss this opportunity.

❥

“Fuck, talk to me mama” Connie breathes into your ear, your hair roughly tangled around his fist. You can feel him in your stomach, punching your cervix over and over.

“Ah-mmph..I can’t” Your hands hold onto the sink, grasping it harder than you can grasp reality.

Connie feels a bit bad that he wishes he didn’t have on a condom right now, wanting to feel you raw.

“Yes you can, you are now —fuck— aren’t ya?” Connie taunts you, his hand reaching down to rub your clit. “I don’t want p-people to hear” Your head rests on Connie’s shoulder.

“Why not? Don’t want anyone to know how much of a slut you are?” Your eyebrows furrow, you were pretty sure you saw tears falling down Connie’s eyes the first time you hooked up. You clenched around him purposely, earning a whine from him.

“Oh i’m a slut?” You lifted your head back up to look at him in the mirror. You used Connie’s vulnerable state to push him off of you, giving him no time to be confused before you drop to your knees.

“What the– fuck” Connie groans out. You watch as this grown man literally slaps his hand over his mouth. Your tongue runs up his cock, licking up all your wetness. You rise up, peeling Connie’s hand off of his mouth. He watched you intently. You squished his cheeks together before spitting your wetness in his mouth.

A part of you feels really really slutty. No man has really made you feel like this. Yeah sure you wanted him but you wanted him to chase after you, not the other way around.

You watch Connie swallow with no hesitation. “You’re cool and all Connie, but I don’t even know you. It’ll take a little more than a blunt.” You watch Connie’s mouth open agape.

He was very very confused. He thought you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you. You let him eat you out before letting him put his dick inside you. Then you suddenly stop him? What the fuck-

“Just letting you know, i’m a bit expensive” You fix your clothes and hair in the mirror.

“Bye Connie” You sweetly say, before exiting the bathroom, leaving Connie with a rock hard erection.

“Fuck i’m too high for this” Connie face palms himself. No way he just let a girl edge him.

@getoscrybaby @ginger4sugar @cybercandy1 @rintcrous @conniesministallion @junevenile @yourrfavzxri @reinerszn @lowkeysumgyall @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @royalty-cashinout @lovelytayy @starpdfs @syarblu @urmotherswhor3 @simp4tenko @emery-333 @hopefuloperaangelnerd @pinkfqiry @donutsrsweetbagels @katymae12344@urivl @mdibby @dezibou @dramaticOflwer @animeloverzx @y3rn4y0n yOn @honeyxluv @jupittterrrrr @iikatsukii @glossygirrll @severenswife @h3v3n1y + many more beautiful people <3

Please message me to be removed or added to my taglist🫶🏾

[kitybur]

𝐛𝐮𝐳𝐳𝐞𝐫 | 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐲

⌦ in which you are a rather popular streamer, and get invited to a cut’s buzzer dating video.

— warnings: pronouns not mentioned, swearing, use of real name

| this is a draft from a while ago, idk why i was obsessed with the buzzer dating vids from cut's but here we are |

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

you were anxiously waiting in the room the producers had showed you when you first came into the building. it was a small comfy area; plush green couches and chairs with light blanket throw overs and soft pillows.

it was almost a mystery how you ended here. cut had emailed your team and asked if you were available to shoot a dating video for their channel. although it was a weird offer, you agreed nonetheless, hoping to maybe find someone out of it.

you rubbed your sweaty hands on your jeans as a woman walked into the room. she had just taken her turn but must’ve been buzzed since she came back. this worried you.

“how’d it go?” one of the other women asked. the one who had returned smiled and shook her head.

“he’s cute, but i’m not his type.” she paused, sitting down in a chair and looking over to you. “i really hope you get him, or someone in this room does.” you smiled nervously at her in thanks. just as she moved on to speak again, one of the crew members motioned you to come out.

it was now your turn. deep breath in. deep breath out.

you stood and walked out. the room was a dull white and had two chairs and a table with a button in the middle. you put a confident smile on your face as the man sitting in the chair spoke.

“hi! im alex!” his tone was rather soft, definitely not what you expected once taking in his appearance. he had shoulder length brown fluffy hair, the top of it hidden by a black beanie. his shirt baggy along with his jeans. you couldn’t deny that it was attractive.

you stuck out your hand, his instantly meeting it in a tight grip. “it’s nice to meet you, alex. i’m y/n!” you let go of his soft hand to pull out your chair and sit down.

“are you nervous?” he asked with a slight chuckle. in all honesty, he had felt the shake in your hand when he shook it, he wanted to make sure you were okay.

you let out a little laugh back. “just a little. this is all a little nerve wracking. are you?”

alex nodded, expanding his hands on the table. “a little, yeah. can i ask, how old are you?” he seemed nervous at the question, but you didn’t take it to heart. you would’ve asked the same thing eventually.

“of course! i’m twenty. how about yourself?”

“i’m twenty-one! nice that we’re around the same age.” you agreed with a soft smile. you went to ask a question when the button started to talk.

“what do you guys do for a living?” the robotic voice was loud and clear, coming from the tiny box in front of you. you both stayed silent for a moment, taking in what the button said before speaking up.

“i, uh, stream on twitch, sometimes.” you shrugged, feeling slightly embarrassed. alex looked at you with wide eyes, and you felt like you were a goner.

“no way! i stream on twitch too!” you let out a breathy laughed, shaking your head.

“damn, really? well, i’m glad we have that in common.” he stayed silent with a small smile plastered on his face. the button glowed red and you were sure he was going to press it.

“y/n is into humours people.” the button turned blue again and you felt your stomach doing flips. he didn’t press it.

“oh, really?” alex asked, eyes making contact with your own orbs. you nodded, making his face light up more. “i just happen to be the most funniest person alive.”

“i love the confidence, it’s hot.” you immediately bring your hand to your mouth as a way to shut yourself up.

“what did you say?” please, button. shut up.

alex was laughing, not at you but at the bright pink dusting your face he saw when you removed your hand. “oh, god. i’m sorry!”

“no, no, no, no! i’m flattered to know you think i’m hot. you’re not too bad yourself, mi amor.” your face was a shade darker of pink while his was light. this guy could be a flirt if he wanted.

“do you find each other attractive?”

you swallowed the lump in your throat, holding your own hand under the table. “yeah-yes. i do find him attractive.” you might’ve felt like dying right then and there.

“i too, find y/n attractive.” alex said in a sly tone. you stared at each other for a few moments before it was ruined by the room lighting up red by the button once again. you watched alex's eyes drop down to the button, then back to you. but he made no move to press it, and neither did you.

"this is the second time, and neither of you have pressed." said the button, turning blue. "do you wish to see each other outside of this video?"

you nodded, quickly, causing alex to laugh. "i would love to see him after this, if he'll have me." you gave a small wink and shy smile. alex shook his head.

"i'd love to have you, you don't even need to ask." you laughed lightly, trying to get rid of the warm feeling in your stomach and the tight knots twisting.

"go on, give each other a hug to end it off." alex stood out of his chair, slowly walking over to you and reaching a hand out. without thinking twice, you reach out and let him help you stand. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, while his secured around your waist. he swayed you both for a moment or two before letting go, but not going too far.

"you guys are free to go now, hope you work out!" a female producer called out, clapping her hands along with a few other workers. you made your way towards the exit, slightly embarrassed and took a deep breathe as you reached outside.

"hey!" you turned around to see non other than alex, hands on his hips. "leaving so soon?" he smirked.

"not without my prize." you flirted back, stepping closer. his eyes widened and he let out a huff.

"speaking up now are we?" he let his palm rest against your jaw and he rubbed thumb rub back and forth. just when you thought he was going in for a kiss, he pulled back. "would love for your number so we can continue this."

you stared at him, mixed emotions in your eyes. lust, confusion, and even anger. sad to say, you may have desperately wanted to kiss him there.. who wouldn't have? in your haze state, you pulled out your phone and handed it to him. he punched in his number and handed your phone back to you. alex told you that he needed to leave to stream, which you understood. he pressed a kiss to your forehead and turned around.

as you watched him walk away, you thought about what would have happened if you didn't agree to do this video. but quickly put that thought behind you, because you had potentially met your future lover. you were definitely going to be stalking his stream before you had to start your own for the night.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

a/n: bye lol i rushed the ending i didnt know what to put LMAO. ok i hope you enjoyed.

[arlowthenacho]

that funny feeling

(carmen berzatto x reader)

summary: you thought carmen berzatto was just a hookup. a fuck-buddy. key word, you thought.

warnings: cursing, allusions to sex but not really? its only mentioned a couple times. no smut, intended lowercase, if theres anything i missed plz let me know !!

wc: 1.1k

a/n: arlow thought about carmen spoon feeding them and made it angsty lol. this is rlly short but fret not !! i think this is gonna be a 2 parter, possibly 3 parter? idk, but i think its gonna be a series lol. anyway, enjoy my lovelies !! 🫶🤍

it started as a one time thing. a one-night-stand. a meaningless hookup. something that would and could only happen once.

until it happened again. and again, and again.

because carmen berzatto was a drug, and you were addicted to him. you craved him like lungs crave oxygen, but you weren’t sure that the feeling was reciprocated.

because if carmen berzatto was a book, he’d be written in code. scrawled in a language you didn’t understand, in writing to confusing to decipher. because carmen berzatto was nothing if not confusing.

a sudden vibration on your nightstand pulls you from your thoughts as you swipe open the screen. a text from carmen. shit.

carmy 🧑‍🍳

you up?

fuck. shit, shit, shit.

you quickly sit up and type back a response.

yeah.

you hold down the backspace button. too simple.

i wasn’t until you woke me up

pop. too accusatory.

i am now. whats up?

good enough.

you click send and set your phone back down on your bed, waiting for a response.

bzz.

the reply was almost instant. maybe that scared you a little bit.

your finger hovers over the screen, debating whether to open the text now, or just forget about it until the morning.

the former won.

carmy 🧑‍🍳

can you come over?

oh. oh.

you don’t know why you expected anything different. it’s not like you were dating him. even though you wish you were. in his eyes, you were just a casual hookup who he occasionally called for something not relating to sex.

you heave a sigh and shift your eyes back over to the phone in your hands.

yeah, ok.

sent.

you don’t really care if it sounds passive aggressive, or angry, or disappointed or whatever else it could sound like to him. to be quite honest, you just want to get this over with.

you quickly change out of your pajamas into something more presentable. a white sweater, blue jeans, throw in some lacy undergarments and you’re heading out the door and into your car.

you turn on the ignition and start the short drive to carmy’s apartment. you have his address memorized, (which you will deny is creepy until your dying day) so you don’t need to use a gps.

you turn on some music and try to distract your racing thoughts. its not like this is the first time you’re meeting him. no, far from it. but you don’t think your brain has processed that yet, because your heart is pounding and fluttering like a bird caged within your chest.

you finally make it to his apartment after what feels like an hour, and you’re standing—quite awkwardly—at carmen’s door, your fist hovering over the wood hesitantly.

after a full minute of standing at the door with your arm raised, you decide to bite the bullet and knock on the damn door.

so you do.

and he answers instantly. like a fucking gentleman.

his hair is tousled, and he runs a hand through it nervously. his eyes somehow look even more blue in the shitty light the hallway of his building provides, and it’s driving you crazy.

he is gorgeous. he is perfect. he’s all the synonyms for beautiful you can cram into one human being.

“hi,”

carmen’s voice is deep and gravelly, still thick with sleep even though he’s probably been awake for some time now.

“hey,”

a beat passes.

“can i-?”

he jolts up from the doorway he was leaning on.

“oh, yeah. shit—yeah, come in. sorry.”

an apron is tied around his waist, a gray sweater fitting loosely around his frame. it makes his eyes appear bright, like gleaming pools of sapphire that you want to spend every pretty penny on.

nonetheless, you smile politely and step into his apartment.

no matter how many times you’ve been here, the first thing you notice is always his bookshelves. more so, the books. cookbooks, magazines, culinary textbooks and newspaper articles litter his floor and decorate his walls.

the second thing you always notice is his ever-growing collection of denim. jeans and jackets make up most of his wardrobe, and are crammed into whatever space he could find.

after looking around his small apartment, a smell hits your nose.

its…pasta?

no, that can’t be it. you were just here to fuck, right? the food was probably for someone else. for work, or somebody he wanted a real relationship with. not you.

the thought left a bitter taste in your mouth.

you sigh, disappointment crashing into your heart like waves against rocks for the second time tonight.

despite that, you’re the first to break the silence.

“aren’t we going to your room?” you cringe at the tone of your voice. it sounded exactly how you felt. disappointed, hurt, maybe a little bitter.

“what? sorry, couldn’t hear you.” carmen leans down to you to hear better, his breath a faint whisper against your skin. your breath hitches.

“aren’t we going to your room?” you repeat, a tad louder than before.

“oh. no, no, no. no, that not—that isn’t—” carmen seems to be at a loss for words, and he feels like a total dick.

“we aren’t?” you’re confused, but hide it well. you raise a brow pointedly. “then why’d you ask me to come over?” for the first time in a couple of minutes, you notice where you followed him.

“i—just,” he searches around for something.

a spoon, full of some kind of red sauce. he cups his hand under the utensil to catch anything that drips, and urges you to come closer.

you’re in his kitchen. his safe space. his fucking sacred space.

and suddenly a wave of confusion and frustration and hope is erupting within you. so many emotions and so much fucking hope. hope that this could be something more. hope that maybe you were wrong. silly, foolish, childish hope that enthralls you completely in its deceitfully warm embrace.

he’s still holding the spoon to your mouth when he speaks.

“can you try it? it’s something for the bear. for the new menu. wanted your opinion on it.” he looks nervous, like he wasn’t the one who invited you over. like he isn’t currently the one lighting your cheeks ablaze and causing your to heart implode under the sheer force of your adoration for him.

“oh, um, yeah. of course.”

he smiles. a close-lipped thing that makes you want to kiss it off of him.

you move to take the spoon from him, but he gently shoves your arm down against your side, says “open up,” and puts the spoon in your mouth.

the food is great. more than great. but you’d be lying if you said you were paying attention to that.

because carmen fucking berzatto just spoon fed you. like a couple.

and now the domesticity is crushing you, mind, body and soul.

because you’re in love with carmen berzatto.

and by some miracle, he might be in love with you too.

[thegnomelord]

Got Your Tongue

CW: NSFW, first time blowjobs, Top Male reader, breath play, Implied Switch reader, Implied Switch Ghost, Ghost's self hate is showing, idk if I characterized him well, long word vomit fic again :/

Ya'll are free to thow requests/thirsts/asks my way, srs my brain rots can only go so far lads.

Ghost is like a feral cat; you never know what the fuck he's thinking and it drives you both up the wall. Hell, most of the time you can't tell if he actually wants to be with you.

You'll go days if not weeks without touching each other until you start pondering if you're going mad and looking too deep into whatever this is, and the next time you're doing something as mundane as making tea he'll suddenly be there— his large and firm chest pressing against your back and burying his face into your neck, wrapping strong arms around your waist and clamping his teeth on your neck deep and long enough to leave a bruise. And when you find your voice to ask what he's doing he'll give you a deep noncommittal grunt with a thousand meanings, grab the tea you were making and disappear like his namesake as if he hadn't just given you a heart attack.

Or after a deadly mission he'll use his overbearing bulk to bully you into the first secluded nook or broom closet or whatever he finds and push you against the wall until your ribs are groaning so he can steal the remaining air in your lungs with a harsh kiss that's more teeth than anything else. You can never mind his brutish ways when every kiss with him feels like the first and the last, desperate and eager you'll kiss him until you're both lightheaded and your hands are grabbing at his belt. But even the slightest attempt at going further will make things stop. "Good," He'll say in the same tone of voice like he's just won an argument, then he'll be gone again, leaving you confused and aroused.

Ghost isn't dumb, knows the state he leaves you in because he feels the same way — aroused and sad and confused and angry. He knows it's his fault, knows he should talk and ask for what he wants. But his childhood, his life, his death, had shaped him into a man of action and violence, and there's always this sick feeling he gets in his stomach when he holds you like he knows he'll break you like he has with everything else in his life; fuck up the first good thing he's had in a while.

Pathetic, he is.

Even more pathetic because he knows how smitten you are with him. He can feel your eyes on his body when he goes on a bulk, glued to his arse and thighs that barely fit in his jeans because of course that's where most of the calories go, knows you have to concentrate to keep your fingers to yourself because otherwise you'll be trying to squeeze and feel up and use the added chub his chest and stomach develops like a bloody stress ball.

He's a downright wretch for how your gaze makes him feel, how his heart hammers just a bit faster in his chest when you do a double take and how a sense of power burns in his veins when you snap at recruits after you catch them staring at his arse.

He's still shit at expressing that and it's getting on his nerves. Lucky for him, you're running out of patience too.

Next time he has you pinned to a wall after a mission it's in your shared bunkroom and you've been dancing( more like stumbling) around each other like dogs for weeks. He kisses you in the same desperate overbearing way he always does, like he expects to never see you again so he's taking everything you'll give him, your teeth clacking together and moans echoing into the other's mouth.

Your heart sinks like a stone when he pulls away to catch his breath, mask pulled up to his nose, muttering the dreaded "Good,".

You're quicker this time, each hand grabbing his arse cheek before he can disappear. "Not good." You pull him back into you, chests pressed together and hips shifting until you feel his cock against yours so you can swallow the sharp inhale he makes. "Stop fucking blue balling me."

"So fockin' needy." He grunts against your lips in a tone that makes it both a praise and an insult. Simon puts his paw of a hand on your sternum and tries to push you away, something white hot zapping up his spine when you don't yield, your chest hard and solid beneath his hand as if to spite his belief.

"Only because you keep scampering off." You argue and have half a mind to bat his hand off your chest but the fear of him leaving has your hands digging firmly into the meat of his arse. "Come on Si, talk to me, do you want this or am I barking up the wrong tree?"

He tries. His mouth opens slightly but trepidation and displaced anger clogs his throat, so he answers in his own way. Simon's hands slide to your shoulders and then to your head, pulling you painfully by the hair until you're kissing him again. He leans fully into you almost crushing you, and the strange buzz in his head when you don't even flinch that has him trying to convey through his body what he can't through his words.

"That's not an answer." He feels you frown against his lips before you're pulling your head back against his grip to look at his half covered face. "Just nod or shake your head, okay? Don't need an essay here."

He swallows and doesn't even have to think before he's nodding his head.

"Good." You can't even hide the relief you feel, tilting your head to kiss him softer before nibbling on his lip. "Can we get you out of those clothes? Need to see you so bad right now."

"Fine," He manages, pulls you by your hair to kiss you again, barely helping you when you try taking off his clothes. You've fucked before, but this feels different with you now on the receiving end instead of him, and he's grateful when you don't try taking off his mask so you don't see how nervous he is.

"Can you lay on the bed love? Wanna try something new, okay?" You say and greedily run your fingers along the light patch of his between his pecs, trailing down his happy trail to give his cock a few dry jerks.

He grunts, bites your shoulder in retaliation, before he submits and lets you rearrange him how you want. "What shit are you planning?" He demands as he looks at you from where he's laying across your bunk with his head hanging off the foot end of it, making blood rush to his head.

"Something good." You muse, unzipping your pants just enough to free your cock, and now Simon understand why you chose this position— it inverses your sizes, makes you loom over him and his cock throbs painfully at how small he suddenly feels. "You know you can tap out." You remind him.

His eyes shift to yours, blown so wide they're just pools of black, and he glares at you. "Stop wastin' time." He growls and reaches out to grip your thighs and all but throws you on him.

"Who's needy now?" You giggle when you catch yourself with your hands on his firm and chubby pecs, tilting your head down to watch him lay kisses and small licks along the underside of your shaft. God if the sight of it doesn't make your cock twitch, feeling his heartbeat as you squeeze and play with his pecs definitely does.

"Still you." He huffs and opens his mouth to take you inside, the new angle letting you easily push past his teeth and tongue and straight into his throat. He tries to breathe and fails, throat fluttering and gagging before you quickly pull out so he can breathe.

"Si-"

"Shu'it." He grows before you can ask if he's sure, pulling you by your thighs and taking your cock deep into his throat again. He's better this time, figuring out to relax his throat and hollow his cheeks and only breathe when you pull out just enough for air to pass through his larynx.

"God, fuck, Simon." You can't help but moan at how hot and tight his mouth is, stuck between watching his throat bulge from your cock and his entire body jiggle with every shallow thrust of your hips. The sight of his cock standing tall and proud just from how deep in his throat you are has you flexing your muscles and biting your lip in a desperate attempt not to cum immediately.

He groans, the sound vibrating around your shaft, his heart hammering in his ears louder and louder every time you bottom out. Distantly he knows he should want to fight back and gain control and dominate, like he should feel adrenaline and violence run through his veins because he can hardly breathe and has to struggle not to choke.

But he doesn't; the lack of oxygen hits his brain better than any drug on the market and makes his head nice and fuzzy and calm. He doesn't even feel his eyes close and just focuses on the feel of your cock in his throat with a sense of euphoria settling over his weary body and mind like a weighted blanket. He lets himself float in bliss, sometimes remembering to run his tongue over the veins in your cock or to suckle on it when only the tip remains inside.

He barely hears you praise him, your once careful pace quickly gaining speed and intensity when you see how fucked out he looks when his lips are stretched around the base of your shaft. Your deep thrusts make his body jiggle in a mesmerizing way, his thick thigs spreading open and cock leaking steady drops of precum.

"I'm not gonna last long Si." You try to warn him but Ghost just humms drunkly, suckling eagerly on your cock as best he can. Even blissed out he's good with his mouth, and you don't last long.

You pull out with just your tip remaining inside, letting him get in a deep breath before you're pushing inside balls deep, hunching over him and cumming down his gullet straight down his esophagus. He gurgles, throat bobbing as he swallows what he can and chokes on what he can't.

"You're okay, you're okay." You sooth, pulling out quickly and helping him sit up, smacking his back to help him breathe again. "You broken?"

He coughs, shaking his head numbly, voice low and scratchy when he says, "Negative."

Before you know it he's pulling you by your hair into a kiss. You melt into him, not bothered by your seed on his tongue as you kiss him back just as deeply as he does you. You pull away when you feel his hold weaken a bit, resting your forehead against his, wiping sweat from his cheek. "God you look so pretty."

He grunts, tugs on your hair in revenge for your words. You catch his eyes shift to his own cock. "Look what you caused." He mumbles, laying a chaste and drunk kiss on your lips. "Fix it."

You can't help but giggle, kissing him again as you feel him melt against you.

[aaronhotchswife]

THE WAY YOU MAKE ME FEEL

Drew Starkey x Female Reader

Chapter 1

Warnings : alcohol, panick attack, angst, want to give the reader a hug, smut, loss of virginity

Chapter 2

"If two people are meant to be together, they will eventually find their way back into each other's arms, no matter what."

Drew's point of view

I look at her, sleeping on my shoulder. She looks so peaceful, her breathing is serene. I look at her lips, that even if I kissed them a lot for the sake of the show, I wonder how they would taste if it was for real. I had agreed to watch Tangled with her since I know it's her favourite movie. For the year she lived with me, she asked me to watch it with her. She was always watching it alone but I finally succumbed to watching it tonight.

She moves slightly, causing me to hold my breath.

'"Hi," she says, repositioning herself on the couch. "Sorry about that," she glances to my shoulder.

"Hey, don't worry," I speak softly, my gaze went back to the movie, a lantern scene playing.

"I woke up just in time for my favourite scene"

"This is your favourite scene ?" I chuckle, incredulous.

"Yeah ! It's so romantic. The ways he looks at her and the song, it's cute."

"It is," I say, looking over her.

We finished the night both laying on the couch, showing each other tiktoks and funny Instagram reels. It was nice to just hang out, like roommates and friends, even if in my head, I always had that little thing, where she might likes me back.

Y/N's point of view

I come back from the grocery store, rubbing my hands together from the cold outside before setting the grocery bags on the counter.

"Drew ?" I spoke loudly, waiting for him to answer me. "Are you home?"

Without getting any answers, I emptied the grocery bags before laying on the couch, a cooking TV show playing in the background.

***

To : Cut the camera

Mads : the guys chose the bar for tonight. They say it's a pub kind of place

Y/N : girlsss idk what to wear

Lacia : you should wear your blue jeans with your black silk top 🥵

Mads : I AGREE

Mads : btw Odessa's gonna be there tonight

Y/N : that must be why Drew isn't home

Y/N : i already didn't feel like going now it's worse 🙃

Madie : c'mon girl, you're gonna have a great time with us!! And it's the last time that we're gonna see each others before everyone leave for Christmas soooo

Since Drew and Odessa were filming a movie together, they were always hanging out. I tried my best not to be jealous of her but it was hard. I felt like she was prettier, skinnier, funnier than me. And Drew seems to find her really interesting. Which was ok. I was just his roommate and his best friend. Just his roommate and his best friend.

***

The pub was crowded just enough. I was sitting next to JD and Lacia, talking about crazy fan theories.

"Oh there he is!" JD exclaim, reaching out his hand to do a handshake with Drew. I felt my hands getting clammy, feeling a bit anxious seeing him with her.

"Hi man, hi Lacia, hi Y/N." Drew said, his eyes scanning the booth.

"Hi guys!" said Odessa.

JD and Lacia said hi at the same time, but I find the straw in my drink a lot more interesting than her. I looked over Drew, making eye contact with him before letting my gaze fall back down to my drink.

Drew's point of view

I saw her, wearing her cute jeans and that black top that embraced her curves.

She looked over me, her eyes filled with something else than usually. Her expression changed the second she saw me. I sat at the booth, next to JD. Even if I wanted to sit next to her, she seemed more absorbed by the straw in her drink that by my presence. Odessa sat next to me, putting her hand on my back, making me stiffen. I saw Y/N's gaze looking over me, before she got up, walking over Madelyn and Chase. I get up, walk over them to say hi to my friends. She is standing next to me, but she is still looking everywhere except where I want her to look. I leaned over her, my hand finding a place on her back.

"You ok ?" I asked.

"Positive."

Her tone is dry and I can't think of any reasons of why she would be like that.

"So you brought Odessa ?" Chase asked, making me come back to reality.

"Yeah, well we're spending a lot of time together these days because of Hellraiser and she's nice and —"

"In that case you should go see her before she starts missing you too much."

I turned back to Y/N, my brows furrowed. The tone is which she said it is harsh, something that would normally not happen with her. She doesn't look at me and instead, before I can answer anything, her eyes find Rudy, Austin and Madison talking next to the bar and just like that, she's gone.

Y/N's point of view

I'm sitting at the booth, listening to Rudy asking Austin a Truth or Dare question. I am here, but I feel as if my head is somewhere else. Somewhere alone with Drew. Somewhere where he is in love with me.

"Drewbear, if you saw me on Tinder, would you swipe right ?"

I can hear Odessa giggling while she's asking her question to Drew. Even if I do not want to hear his answer, I suprise myself raising my head and listening carefully. I can't invent the way his eyes look at me before making their way to Odessa.

"I would."

I feel my heart stop. I know I didn't have the right to be jealous of her. We are just friends, even if sometimes it feels like we are more than that. I try to smile, making it seems like it don't affect me, but the way I see Madelyn look at me, her eyes filled with pity, I feel the tears raising in my eyes. I get up to go order a drink, asking everyone if they wanted a refill. I could hear my voice shaking, trying my best to control myself.

"I'll come with you," Drew says, raising from his seat.

"You don't have to."

"C'mon Y/N/N, you can't bring 5 drinks by yourself," he smiled, following me to the bar.

I ordered the drinks, watching the floor and playing with the rings on my fingers waiting for the drinks to be ready.

Drew's point of view

"Did I do something wrong ?" I spoke softly. I could feel something was wrong and it made me sick in my stomach, thinking that I could've hurt her. "You're acting weird ever since I've arrived."

She stops playing with her rings, lifting her head to watch me.

"You didn't."

"Then why are you acting like that ? Being mean about Odessa, ignoring me ? You're in your little world since the beginning of the night, looking everywhere but at me. C'mon, you know we're best friends and that we say everything to each other."

"Do we ? Do we tell each other everything Drew ?" Her voice was trembling.

The moment was cut by the bartender, handing us the drinks.

"I want to talk about it Y/N." I talk louder, making our way to the booth.

"There is nothing to talk about."

Y/N's point of view

As I sat at the booth, my phone vibrated. I look down to see a text from Madelyn.

'You really should tell him how you feel'

Another vibration.

'He's in love with you. You should see the way he looks at you. He's just trying to make you jealous'

'Yeah right' I write back.

'It's working'

"Y/N, truth or dare ?" Odessa asks.

There's is no way I trust this girl enough for a dare, so I answer truth.

"How many persons did you have sex with ?"

I feel the heat creeping up on my cheeks. Even if being a virgin in my 20's sucked, it was always something I could hide. Except for now because the way she looks at me, I'm pretty sure she realizes what I am.

"Oh oh, are you a virgin ?" She laughed sarcastically.

Everybody at the table is silent. Because even if mostly everyone knew, the tone is which she said it makes everyone feel tense. I feel my breath getting shorter and I start getting dizzy. I can't breathe. I can't feel my heart. I can't even focus on the faces of my friends in front of me. I feel like I'm in high school again, with the mean girls. I feel like I will die. I look at Drew, a pleading look on my face. I want him to do something even if I don't know what. I need air, I need the cold air of December to help me breathe.

Drew's point of view

Everybody is silent, everybody is looking at me. Madelyn gets up, running to the door, yelling Y/N's name. I turn to face Odessa and I know she can see the anger in my eyes.

"What. The. Fuck is your problem ?" I speak loudly, not a care in the world if I'm causing a scene. "You should leave. Now." I tell her before exiting the bar, looking for Y/N.

I find her outside, on her knees. Madelyn is next to her, on her knees as well, rubbing her back. I can hear her crying, her respiration is twitching as she tries to speak.

"I–I–don't want to feel like this anymore. I don't want to feel like I'm not good for anyone," I hear her say between tears. "I–feel like I will die. Why did she do that. Why can't he love me," I see her hyperventilating and I want to say something. To do something. But my feet are stuck on the ground.

"Shh, it's okay. You're okay. You're alive. You're with me. It's okay," I can hear Madelyn comforting her.

"You should go. I think you're the last person she wants to see at the moment," Madison speaks loudly behind me, Lacia following her . Madelyn raises her head, as does Y/N.

"Make him leave Madie, please, make him leave."

I heard her, I look over the girls, tears forming in my eyes. I don't understand anything that is happening right now. I don't understand how my best friend is on the floor have a breakdown because of me.

Y/N's point of view

I run outside, falling to my knees on the ground. I can't breathe. The blood is pounding in my ears. My heart is thudding in my chest.

"Y/N!" I hear Madelyn say, but I don't have the strength to turn back. I need to be alone, I need to breathe.

"Y/N," Madelyn is reaching to me, holding me close to her. My breathing is shaking and I try to control it, to control the tears falling down on my cheeks. I feel humiliated, I feel as if I'm going to die. I don't hear Drew running out the door and I don't see him standing there, his face broken.

"It's okay. It's okay. Breathe with me." Madelyn says, inhaling and exhaling. I try to do the same but my breath gets stuck.

"I–I–don't want to feel like this anymore. I don't want to feel like I'm not good for anyone," I say between tears. "I–I feel like I will die. Why did she do that. Why can't he love me," I rambled, unable to say anything that make sense.

"Shh, it's okay. You're okay. You're alive. You're with me. It's okay."

I don't hear Drew running out the door and I don't see him standing there, his face broken. I only realized he's there when I hear Madison and Lacia telling him to go home.

"Make him leave Madie, please, make him leave," I begged.

[velocesainz]

Cinema

(CL16, CS55)

F1 masterlist | Main masterlist | Taglist

Summary: Charles is forced by Carlos to go watch an English movie with him at the theater since you are one of Carlos's best friends, he happens to take quite a liking to you not knowing Carlos's love for you. What will happen when you all of you meet at a house party?

Warnings: smuttyyyy (threesome) minors dni

Pairing: Charles x actress!reader x Carlos

Charles POV:

Carlos is currently in the process of dragging me to one of the biggest theatres in Maranello.

Why?

Because his best friend recently released a new film.

I'm offended that I'm not Carlos's best friend, and also I did not know that Carlos had a girl best friend let alone one who is an actress.

I looked her up on the way to the theatre and turns out she's one of the most famous actresses today and my oh my, was she beautiful.

We got to the theatre and Carlos got us some tickets and popcorn. He rushed me into the theatre and we sat down in our seats as we watched the movie: May December. (Guys please watch it's such a good movie)

That was one hard one to take, vet complex. Yet y/n's acting was perfect and I understood even the most complicated details.

"Mate she's such a good actress and so beautiful! Why haven't you told me about your "best friend" before?" I asked Carlos wondering why he had hidden y/n from my knowledge. As far as I knew we shared all our life stories with eachother.

Carlos shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I don't know mate, I didn't want to tell you because I know you'd find her attractive. I've been in love with her for years and idk, you're someone that everyone easily seems to fall in love with" Carlos confessed. I wasn't so sure that I would be able to keep my hands off of her

"let's go mate, it's getting late" I said to ease the tension.

With that we left the theatre and got back to our hotel rooms. Tomorrow we had a small house party at Pierre's house in Milan so I knew I wouldn't get sleep the next day.

Timeskip

I dressed up for the party, throwing in a simple white button up with blue jeans pairing some jewelry along with it.

As I was driving to Pierre's house my mind wandered to y/n. Her acting skills were amazing and she was so immensely attractive. She had won golden globes and even an Oscar for her remarkable acting.

I arrived at the party realising I'm late as the place was completely packed with people, most of whom I didn't recognise.

I was looking for either Pierre or Carlos but as I was looking my eyes fell on a lean figure in the corner of the room. Y/n.

I walked up to her with my sudden, newly found confidence "hey! My name is Charles, I'm Pierre and Carlos's best friend. I'm a huge fan of your acting" she looked at me wide eyed. Shit. Did I ramble?

"Oh hey! I'm honoured to have you as one of my fans, good to know Carlos has replaced me" she said chuckling. Oh thank god, I thought I fucked up my only chance.

I chatted with y/n for some time until someone came up to us.

"Hola mis mejores amigos" the person said, I froze. It was Carlos.

"hola Carlitos, estaba hablando con el apuesto caballero con el que me reemplazaste" Hello Carlitos, I was just talking to the handsome gentleman you replaced me with.

She spoke in perfect Spanish, god her accent was so hot.

Carlos and her exchanged a few words and then turned to involve me as well into the conversation. How nice of Carlos.

I saw that she spoke french as one of her native languages and decided to take advantage of the fact that Carlos didn't understand a word of French.

"Si jolie fille. Veux-tu retourner dans ma chambre d'hôtel ? Je peux te montrer un bon moment" So pretty girl. Do you want to go to my hotel? I can show you a good time.

She blushed hard, her cheeks turning bright red. Carlos pulled me aside.

"What are you doing mate? I told you I like her and you're going on trying to sleep with her?" Carlos said. How did he understand what I said.

"Carlos she's not your to have. If you want we can share, I see the way she looks at you as well. She likes the both of us, let's show her a good time." I suggested

Carlos nodded and walked back to y/n whispering something in her ear causing her to blush again, got was she beautiful.

All three of us got in my car and drove to my hotel.

As soon as we got there Carlos threw y/n against the wall and started kissing her

I traced her curves with my hands, pressing up behind her. I was sure she could feel my arousal on her ass.

She ogled at Carlos's body before her. I hooked my fingers in the waistband of her linen pants, leaning forward to pepper kisses on her right shoulder. Y/n reached up under the shoulders of Carlos’s shirt and pushed the fabric away. The shirt flowed off his arms, falling to the floor. He reached forward, cupping y/n's cheek before kissing her again.

My kisses on her skin flowed down her back, teeth nipping at her hips through her panties as I slid her pants down.

Carlos POV:

Charles kneeled behind y/n once the material pooled at her feet, kissing upward. I massaged one of her breasts through her bra. Charles stood up to his complete form, kissing her shoulder once more as his hand swept across your skin to her panties.

I felt Charles’s hand slip beneath the material of her panties and graze her clit, going to feel the wetness between her folds. The kiss was broken as a moan left her lips, back arching into Charles. I chuckled looking at how worked up she was.

She squirmed between me and Charles, reaching forward and gripping my shoulder for support.

Charles POV

I had y/n on her toes as I fingered her lazily as if I was playing the piano. She let out soft pants, not giving us the satisfaction of hearing how good we made her feel. We'll make sure those noises come out.

My hand fell to her side as she undid my belt, leaning forward to kiss the flesh softly. Herr fingers slipped the button free, teeth nipping at my right hip. My breath hitched, chest rising and falling as she slowly pulled the zipper down. Y/n reached in, purposefully grazing the obvious erection in my underwear before tugging the jeans down.

“Fucking hell” I breathed, pulling away from her. Her hands brushed my thighs as I stepped away. She grinned at me, knowing that she got underneath my skin.

Carlos was watching the whole thing with his arms crossed and shot me a smile. As soon as I was yanking my jeans and underwear off, Carlos quickly undid his belt and jeans.

“Fuck, I am the luckiest woman in the fucking world,” She breathed, toes curling and eyes almost rolling into the back of her head at the sight of the me and Carlos naked before her. Carlos laid horizontally across the bed. His head was slightly close to the edge. He looked at yher, patting his chest.

“Come have a seat,” Carlos suggested calling y/n over. Carlos pulled her down with no warning, tongue immediately delving within you. She cried out as his tongue circled her clit. She reached forward, gripping my forearm. I waited for her to adjust, in awe at the sight of her. She looked so fucking hot and bothered.

“Ch-Charles, let me, please,” she pleaded me, reaching forward with her free hand and wrapping it around my cock. I widened my eyes, fuck that felt so good. I walked a little more forward. Her gaze was innocent despite her lips wrapping around the tip of my cock. I groaned loudly grabbing her hair. God she was doing so good.

Carlos POV:

I moved to suck on her clit, slipping away one of my hands from her thigh and pressing a finger between her wet folds. She moaned on Charles’s cock, causing him to pull a breath through his teeth. I gently brought my finger in and out of her, adding another.

I continued sucking her clit and I could feel that she was getting close. Her moans grew louder and louder.

“Carlos, please,” she begged, god I needed her so badly.

I stopped pleasuring her and got her off my face guiding her to the edge of the bed.

Charles walked to his dresser removing two condoms and passing me one.

“Thanks, mate,” I said quietly. We both ripped the packaging and slipped the condoms on.

“Come here, cariño,” I said to her. She came to me leaning down and kissing me as she planted a knee on each side of my body. I gladly returned the kiss, one hand on her back, the other lining my cock up with her entrance. The kiss deepened as she allowed me to fill her to the brim.

Second person POV:

Charles watched the both of you, aroused by the scene and watching Carlos fill you with ease. He stepped between Carlos’s parted legs, touching your lower back. He caressed the flesh of your ass, causing you to pull away from Carlos’s kisses and watch Charles. He took himself in his left hand, shifting to level before slowly entering you from behind. Your eyes rolled back, toes curling, and cunt clenching around Carlos as Charles entered you.

Both men gave you a moment to adjust; the sensation wasn’t new, but it was always slightly alarming initially. Charles leaned forward to kiss your shoulder before straightening back, waiting for the cue. You nodded aggressively, eyes squeezed shut as you clutched Carlos’s shoulders. Carlos kissed your temple before both men moved together, Carlos thrusting up into you and Charles’s thrusts pushing you forward. You moaned, ready to come apart right there.

They were slow at first, continuing to let you adjust like the gentlemen they were. Then, when the only noise you made was panting, they changed their pace, their hips snapping against you. You moaned, back arching, which pushed you further into Carlos. Carlos’s hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into your flesh that you knew would leave a mark behind. Charles’s grip was a little looser than Carlos’s on your waist but would still leave faint marks behind.

The pace they set quickly brought you closer and closer to an orgasm, the sensations of both pumping in and out of you overwhelming your body. Carlos thrust up, hips lifting off the bed, and a spot inside you that made you see stars. You gasped, clutching his bicep to the point your nails dug in. The sound of panting and your moans echoed throughout the room, all three bodies glistening with a thin layer of sweat.

“Fuck!” you cried out, soon feeling the tension in your core snap. You squeezed around Carlos, the tightening of your walls pulling him with you, causing his lips to stutter and his grip to tighten. Despite fucking you from behind, the tension of your orgasm was enough to bring Charles to his climax. He rode through his orgasm, slowing his pace until he stopped.

You fell on Carlos, not caring if your full weight was on him. Both of you were a panting, sweating mess. He removed a hand from your waist, running his fingers through his hair. He laid his head back, staring at the ceiling as he tried to get his breathing down to normal. Charles leaned over you, panting, but he kissed your spine. You hummed softly, weakly glancing back at Charles. Your eyes met, and he offered you a gentle smile, rubbing your back before he removed himself from you.

Charles walked to the ensuite bathroom, going to quickly clean up before he joined the both of you in bed. Carlos tilted his head up, stroking your back before gently patting your bum. You sighed, sitting up and letting him hold the condom before you removed yourself. Carlos leaned over, moving some hair that stuck to the sweat on your forehead. He gave it a gentle kiss, stroking your hair in the process.

Charles quickly returned, picking you up from the end of the bed. Carlos stood up and went to the bathroom, patting Charles on the shoulder. He carried you bridal style to his side of the bed, kneeling to place you in the middle before laying down next to you. You lay on your back, staring at the ceiling until Charles was beside you. Your head turned to meet his eyes, a soft smile on both faces. He stroked your hair, and you gently caressed his thigh and knee and all three of you fell asleep.

[nouvellevqgue]

i. oh my, never seen that color blue · ﹙ charles leclerc ﹚

summary: red is indeed his color, but what if he switched to blue?

a/n: catluvr444 is max's girlfriend username

₊˚⊹౨ৎ ⋆｡✦

charles_leclerc added to their story!

ˑ⭒ʚ ִinstagram ݁.٭

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, sza, shakira, and 459,725 more

yourusername trip-trippin' on you 👜

view all 56,208 comments...

username where are you goinnn???👀👀

⤷ yourusername nyc!!

⤷ username she's going to nyc to... watch taylor's concert?

username spill your hair secret bestie

⤷ yourusername hair oiling, conditioner and shampoo by pantene

maxverstappen1 blue suits you better

⤷ charles_leclerc she looks good with both red and blue

⤷ pierregasly but to be honest she looks better with blue though

⤷ charles_leclerc shut up

username she's literally so prettyyy

username how can i have her hair

ellamai glad you love the soonggg🎶 😚

⤷ yourusername i love it everytime!!

username YESSS Y/N PHOTOGRAPHED BY CHARLES IS BACK ‼️‼️‼️

⤷ username bless him for taking this view of her😇

damianodavid you suits all the color it's amazing

yourusername thank you so much 🫶🏻 damianodavid

sza that wind and your back view is truly a blessing

⤷ username i mean does she lie tho

honeymoon 💝💝

username she's literally so cool omg

username but do y'all realize when she wore blue, and so does he...

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, and 740,129 more

yourusername new shirt alert.

👤: charles_leclerc

view all 89,570 comments...

username the second slide is so him

username he has a questionable sense of fashion for those graphic t-shirt

danielricciardo 👀😁

charles_leclerc i can't believe you took the picture

⤷ username so it's a secret picture kinda thing until she spoil it

⤷ yourusername well i mean it's matched with what's inside

⤷ danielricciardo let's do this conversation in a whole different place shall we

landonorris easy with that shirt

⤷ username LANDO😭😭

username his fashion is matched with max smh

⤷ username typical dad graphic tee and skinnny jeans????

⤷ username 😭😭😭😭

username it's all fun and game until when she posted charles doing the same thing she did yesterday

username she knows what she did to humanity when she posted this

username wait... he wore blue?

⤷ username OMG YEAH I DIDN'T REALIZE IT💀💀

username oh. rb charles is coming?

⤷ redbullracing 👀👀

⤷ scuderiaferrari don't you dare

⤷ username ferrari is scared to lose him but still giving him that junk ass car is making me WHEEZING SO HARD

ˑ⭒ʚ ִtwitter ݁.٭

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, yourusername, pierregasly, and 948,201 more

charles_leclerc my favorite one to hold, forever to keep

view all 259,170 comments...

username oh no since when he became poetic😦

username idk but i had either bad or good feeling or nah about this

username blue charles spotted online👀👀

yourusername GUYS WHAT'S WRONG WITH HIM IN BLUE???

username y/n honey look, he works in ferrari. FERRARI IS RED (but yk rb is blue)

⤷ redbullracing 👀👀

⤷ username rb admin wdym by that

username her fit is always been the best

carmenmmundt loving your fit match. so much.

lilymhe charles really hit your good angle there

⤷ yourusername i don't have a bad angle😎

⤷ lilymhe oh yeah? wait until i found your year book

carlossainz55 yourusername what did you to him until he get like this

⤷ yourusername promise to you i didn't say anything to him

danielricciardo i've never seen blue looks ever so matched with him

⤷ yourusername so all those dark blue jeans for nothing????

scuderiaferrari our romeo🌹

username he progressively getting more and more blue as i look into his page

sebastianvettel Charles, what kind of book are you reading to be this romantic?

⤷ username oh even seb ask you this because like WHAT THE HELL'S GOING ON

⤷ landonorris wait it's all came from a book he's reading?

⤷ charles_leclerc no, not really 😁

⤷ carlossainz55 you're not good with secrets, charles.

⤷ charles_leclerc i know.

yourusername

liked by brielarson, isahernaez, charles_leclerc, and 729,566 more

yourusername i swear it's blue irl

view all 62,420 comments...

username ASUEHDHEJSJJWSJSJSNSJD

username THE ROMANCE IS BACK

username it's more greenish though

⤷ yourusername but believe me, at some point it's blue. like light blue.

username once again charles with blue accent spotted: plaster

⤷ username i love the plaster tho, it suit his eye color

username WHY ARE YOU GUYS SO DAMN CUTEEE

camilamendes four pairs of pretty eyes

username literally mother and father

nicolezefanya aww you guys are so cute

ellefanning i miss you so much much much

⤷ yourusername miss you too like forever🥺

username isa liked this🥹❤️

⤷ username y/n is her closest friends, thank god they didn't lost any contact

landonorris JUST LET BE SINGLE IN PEACE PLEEEASEE

⤷ username lando is me, truly the man of the year

maxverstappen1 it's green actually, not blue

⤷ yourusername you know it's blue under the sunlight

⤷ catluvr444 yeah max just admit it

⤷ maxverstappen1 catluvr444 i can't believe you choosing to be on her side

⤷ catluvr444 sometimes a girl should make her choice 🤷‍♀️

username couple goals fr

username missing her on the paddock

⤷ username are they breaking up?

⤷ username no, she's busy on her movie project so she can't be with him

alex_albon i see max is already going to do his usual maxplaining in front of me now. help me

⤷ lilymhe omw to the rescue

⤷ username is it because of the blue ore green thing?

⤷ alex_albon apparently yes.

yourusername added to their story!

caption: gotcha