#like she went to get her jacket.

[stbot]

Yeah, well... maybe I’m done being a Pink Lady.

[arklay]

tagged by @leviiackrman @denerims @shadowglens @risingsh0t & @indorilnerevarine to make some of my oc pairings in this picrew – thank you guys so much ily! ♡

🐍 diana afanasyeva x 🕶️ albert wesker (re)  💋 ada wong x ⛓️ damien maynard (re) 🌻 mehlia tabris x ⚔️ zevran arainai (da) 🚁 dani haines x 🕊️ claire redfield (re)

tagging: @aartyom @aelyosos @brujah @calenhads @faarkas @girlbosselrond @jillvalcntines @lightwardens @morvaris @narshadda @nocticulas @noonfaerie @nuclearstorms @reaperkiller @snowthroat @solasan @steelport @stormveils @swordcoasts @voerman @wrymbloods & anyone else who’d like to do this! i feel like everyone’s been tagged, but if you haven’t then i’m tagging you! ♡

[emile-hides]

I spend a lot of time at home so every time I go out to the city for any reason I am violently reminded of two things;

I am, in fact, Panromantic and find Everyone Pretty

I stare very intensely at people I find ~Attractive~

[strohller27]

.

[dirt-str1der]

Idk anything about Yakuza but your posts seem imply Kiryu is a faggot. Can you confirm?

He likes both girls and boys but has a finicky nature about when and where he likes them because sometimes he cant get enough and other times he doesnt even realise that people are real but he is in fact a gigantic slobbering faggot thank you so much for asking

[the-halfling-prince]

Lazy Jack Spry doodle while I try to fight my lack of motivation to draw anything detailed

[silverislander]

god i forgot how much fucking WORK went into church uniforms, i was just looking them up to remember smth. my family put so much effort into regulation and literally still weren't following half of it, plus our corps as a whole never gave a shit abt it really lmfao

technically today, women in the army can wear pants. i was never allowed to wear pants with my full uniform. always the pencil skirt and the exact regulation colour of pantyhose. i hated those skirts with everything in me

ON THAT NOTE there were exactly two acceptable colours of tights you could wear and they were black and nightshade. to this day i have only ever owned three colours of tights that werent regulation black or nightshade, and they were red (for christmas recitals), white (for summer recitals) and skin tone (for dance performances when required) lmao

new skirts always got taken straight to the one tailor in town who was just as overfamiliar with uniform code as my mom is. they got modified so they would fit well and never be above the knee when sitting down (and honestly she was killer at her job. tysm ms t, i hope you're still in business out there)

buying tunics was a nightmare bc after a certain time they would change the sizing or mysteriously stop making tunics to go under uniform jackets, and you have to either go to the trade to get new ones or order them online, which are equal but different headaches

epaulets and neck pins had to be put back on once your shirt and jacket got washed. i had two pairs of epaulets (senior soldier and brass band) and i never remembered which was which (or to replace either them or the neck pin)

hair has to be above the collar and off the face, and that can mean it's either tied up or it's short enough not to worry about. to this day i'm convinced that's the nail in the coffin that made mom let me cut my hair off, bc the alternative was helping me do a ballet bun every sunday morning and hearing me complain abt said bun and the headache and weird hair bumps it caused all day

NO NAIL POLISH. only clear. if it can be seen from the platform god doesn't love you (joking. you still can't wear any tho)

NO JEWELRY. unless you're straight married then you can wear your ring <3 i wore my key necklace under my uniform every sunday from my senior soldier ceremony right up to the day i left and honestly i don't regret shit, nobody ever knew. that was my one rebellion

and we still weren't regulation! i never wore a hat/bonnet and my shoes were flats with silver buttons on them (instead of plain black heels), my necklace was definitely not allowed if anyone had ever known, and i def wore plain earrings once or twice. wild shit looking back, all that to go play a fucking glorified trumpet and sing for a couple hours a week

[loverscrossmp3]

a girl will buy a new book and sunglasses and then her terrible, totally awful day will turn around to be full of LOVE AND LIGHT !!!!!!

[hearties-circus]

Why is it that my mum always suggests I should lose weight for the stupidest reasons

[sapsolais]

<3

[disteal]

So I haven’t talked about this on main before, but the situation in South Gaza has gotten so horrifying that I’m p much throwing caution to the wind to desperately plead for eyes on this. I’m raising awareness about stories from activists in Gaza right now, including one of our own.

My lovely, wonderful friend Swin (aka tumblr user @combaticon) was deployed as a volunteer medic to a Gaza hospital on the 9th.

When the bloodshed started, she heard they needed extra hands in Gaza, she spoke Arabic and had the training, and she went.

I’ve been in contact with her throughout. She’s so incredibly brave it takes my breath away. My heart bleeds for these children she’s taking care of and how resilient they are is… astonishing.

Swin and these poor people have been under siege for so long, and they’re in desperate need of critical supplies. They have to filter water through their clothes, and it’s getting dangerously cold. Foods finally been getting through, but there’s not enough blankets and jackets to go around and there’s no fuel for the generators.

Their comrades in the West Bank have been completely pushed out by settler thugs. It’s incredibly unsafe to even be doing humanitarian work for Palestinians. Remember this the next time a Zionist tells you they’re doing this to ‘feel safe’. The IOF is arming lynch mobs.

On a personal note, this has been the most gut-wrenching week of my life. Every day when I wake up without a text from her I feel so much fear. I fight back the grief but I don’t know how to help or what to do. It’s terrifying.

Swin has asked for nothing, absolutely nothing other than something it can show the people around it to make them feel like they’re not going to be abandoned. To make sure they’re not forgotten in some pit praying Rafah opens before Israel decides to slaughter them all.

Today was a bad day. She’s alive but beyond worrying about her privacy now; she’s asked me to share this and to beg that we not lose steam and forget about them. Please share this, and please keep being fucking annoying and loud and digging your heels in with fury because we cannot let these people die silently.

[Times of Gaza] [QUD network] [Eye on Palestine]

[link to GCC registration website as the link in this picture is broken]

Please keep in mind that the Global Conscience Convoy is NOT soliciting donations, and registration is to sign up for attendance to the actual event in Cairo. There’s a list of other actions you can do to boost awareness for their protest at Rafah on the website.

[caruliaa]

this is like. it feels insane to do and i feel like i might just do it for a bit of a break but like. i kinda wanna change my blog theme and url and stuff to be hatchetfeild themed. im still into cs ofc but npmd has meant iv felt myself rly getting back into tht stuff, with finally watching nightmare time and everything and idk. i feel like i associate this current like. aesthetic and phase of my tumblr is smth i associate with a phase in my life when i had someone be a part of it and now they dont want me anymore or ig. its a bit self pitying to say that but they still yk. arent in my life anymore and its hard to not feel a bit sad with how my blog is rn with how much i associate stuff like this with them. idk maybe not my url im very proud of being tuser caruliaa but i think it wld be good for my pfo and blog aesthetic yk. ill change them back to cs eventually (and i also know im not tht active in rly any fandom on here anymore but i do wanna try to be a little esp in terms of like. connecting and talking with others) but i think it cld be a good change. or even like a cs theme thts different yk idk . but cs while smth i loved before and can love after them its also smth i shared with them a lot so i think focusing on smth tht i didnt rly share with them as much at least for a little bit wld be good for me yk while also reclaiming tht interest we did share ofc

[morningstarvalerio]

not trying to be a bitch but I don’t care what Rosalia wore to the Schiaparelli show *rolls eyes*

[rootbeerworshiper]

anti-social

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summery: what matt was really doing instead of attending tara yummys party

warnings: smut!!! um car sex, p in v, thigh riding, dom!matt, not proofread

a/n: kinda ditched u guys for a week hopefully this makes up for it ily

love, sienna <3

parties were not your scene in any capacity.

it’s not like you’re overly introverted, but the pure chaos that comes with parties was never something that spoke to you—and oh my god getting hit on by a bunch of gross men added to your discernment towards the large, alcohol fuelled events.

this all being said, you’re also an influencer in LA and that comes with a territory that was unfamiliar to you when you first moved to the sunny state.

it’s difficult to get your name out there in a space filled with people just like you, people hungry for any form of relevance they can gather from their peers.

for whatever reason, influencer parties were a way to get yourself out there, creating more opportunity for youtube collaborations and just overall friendships.

real friends aren’t easy to come by out here, too many people becoming easily blinded by an amount of recognition and it’s easy to become fake—especially when you see friendships as transactional.

this was your least favourite part of LA, the part that was more different than anything else you’d experienced back home.

regardless of all the cons you could continue to list for LA parties, they were needed and encouraged by your manager, so you went, more often than you’d like to.

like tonight.

a few weeks ago one of your friends in the space, Tara, invited you to her one million celebration along with her birthday party and it’s not something you could pass up, so you RSVP’d instantly.

you first interacted with the girl when a few of your fans began telling you how funny of a duo you two would be together, and she dm’d you not long after.

she was real. amongst all the fake in this city she was very much herself, and she took you under her wing as you navigated this new lifestyle which you were eternally grateful for.

the one thing you did opt out of was going in the party bus to the party, if you were going to have a fun night you needed peace and calm right before you entered the chaotic headspace.

it takes a while for you to get ready, spending special time on your makeup and hair in order to present yourself properly—plus, it’s a tara yummy party, you sort’ve have to go all out.

you finish getting completely ready, giving yourself a moment to look in the mirror— it’s safe to say you feel stupid.

sporting a small dark red lace camisole and a black leather mini skirt along with chunky black boots that cut off just below your knee is completely out of character for you but that’s not necessarily a bad thing for a night like tonight.

if you stand here too long hyper analyzing the whole outfit you’ll inevitably change into something more you, so you’re quick to throw on an oversized leather jacket and head out of your apartment.

the uber ride is short lived because of the surprising lack of traffic littering the well lit streets.

soon enough you were at the venue, the loud music pouring through the small spaces in the door frame. you sigh, taking in one last moment of silence before opening the door and engulfing yourself in the complete chaos of a tara yummy party.

if the sound wasn’t overwhelming enough, the bright lights flashing throughout the space took the cake for what caused you the most grief.

it was a conscious decision to come pretty late, the later you come the less people are gonna ask why you’re not drinking, most of them distracted by the alcohol that pools in their kale-filled stomachs.

as you walk in you look around for familiar faces but struggle to see anyone you actually know, opting to grab a soda and lean against a random wall—people watching was a skill that definitely came easy to you.

drunk people were annoying to an extent, sure, but part of you envied the care free nature of it all, and as long as they weren’t pressuring you to take shots you actually preferred it to completely sober interactions.

its hard to hear anything in this environment, screams and music fully encapsulating your body, but soon enough you hear a mumble to your left.

you immediately turn your head, detaching the drink from your lips to look at the figure who’s standing next to you.

you’re sure you’ve seen him before, but the lack of proper lighting or a name to the face leaves you lost for a real identity.

“sorry what did you say?” you yell over the music, leaning in slightly to the boy next to you, your ears now focused on whatever words may leave his mouth.

he leans in too. “is that a rootbeer?” he inquires and a smile forms on your face.

part of you was worried his only plan was to hit on you, or make fun of you for something out of your control, but the innocence of the question was endearing. “it is, it’s my favourite drink ever, i could have so many and never get sick of it”

he smiles, sipping on his drink that looks all too familiar. “mine too. how do you know tara?” he yells again.

“i met her a few months ago for a collab and we just sorta clicked, im not too good at the whole influencer thing” you laugh a little to yourself at your self deprecating humour. “what about you? you look familiar”

“i only met her a few days ago, me and my brothers do youtube and everyone wanted a collab so we’ve just been hanging out” he replies, fingernails making their way in between his lips.

“oh fun! i’m y/n by the way” you reach your hand out to shake his.

it’s hard to ignore the tension that forms from a simple handshake. “Matt” he says simply, introducing himself.

you’re hands linger for a moment longer before you remind yourself to pull away from his grasp.

his eyes take a moment to dart down at your silhouette taking in the sight of you as your own gaze focuses on your surroundings, completely oblivious to the way Matt’s licking his lips—he can’t think about anything else but you.

the random girl he saw standing alone at a party filled with annoying people holding up camera, holding his favourite drink. “so are you from here?” he says, breaking open the tension.

you let out a small sigh of relief, it was always easier for you to talk to people that carried the conversation, especially when they look as good as he does. “no i just moved here a little less than a year ago?” you question momentarily to yourself. “i’m from Boston”

his eyes widen at your statement. “no way, me too” he smiles, running his ring covered hand through his hair.

it’s impossible not to stare at least a little bit, his fingers could genuinely put you in a trance—how good you’re sure he is with them, how much of your throat they could cover-

you can’t get ahead of yourself, these are thoughts you need to keep in the comfort of your own home.

“do you wanna give me your number? maybe we could continue this conversation when we can actually hear each other?” you ask, a sudden boldness coursing through your veins.

“sure id like that” he reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone, but before he can even hand it to you a familiar hand is dragging you into the crowd.

“you need to loosen up y/n its a tara yummy party cmonnnn” tara groans, fully encapsulating you in dancing bodies before you can even look back at Matt.

you shake it off, forgetting about the cute boy and refocusing on not looking like an idiot in front of so many people.

dancing is definitely a lot easier when you realize no one cares what you’re doing, and when you like the song that’s playing.

so you let loose as tara suggested, arms swaying in the air while you grin looking at your friend, your hands taking turns groping your sides as your hips move to the rhythm of the music.

for once you feel confident, hot even.

not a care in the world because it’s just you—and the brunette boy who’s leaned against a wall with his arms crossed, entranced in your dancing without your knowledge.

you’re actually having fun, singing along to numerous songs on the dance floor alongside influencers who are all wasted out of their minds.

for a moment, through the loud music and the abundance of shining lights you feel a hand place itself on your lower back with a sense of firmness that made you shutter.

before you can even fully turn around, you establish that it’s Matt’s hand based on the way he leans into your neck, speaking in your ear. “back doors in 5” he walks away, his fingers lingering on your bare back longer than you knew what to do with.

what changed?

Matt was a cute nervous guy who loves rootbeer and now he’s whispering your ears and turning you on without even looking at you.

you watch him walk away, joining the mess of a crowd and getting completely lost out of your sight.

5 minutes.

you just have to act completely normal for five more minutes and then your casually meeting up with some guy you just met.

this kinda thing usually fills your stomach with anxiety and fear of the unknown, but right now? you’re more excited than you’ve ever been.

thoughts of Matt flooded your brain and soon enough the five minutes were up, it’s safe to say you walked through the crowd a little faster than normal, eager to see what the boy had in store.

after what feels like forever you get to the back door, the brunette no where to be seen.

you feel like an idiot, getting your hopes up for some youtuber who probably just had fun messing with your innocence, toying with it like a fucking slinky.

after what you consider to be a desperate amount of waiting at the door you give up, the last thing you are is a lost puppy awaiting its owner’s arrival.

you let out a small sigh of disappointment, trying to ignore the lump in your throat that forms as you make your way back into the crowd.

before you get far, you bump into someone who’s practically running through the open space cluttered with people dancing, a light sting entering your shoulder. “what the fuck is your problem?” you say, a little more pissed off after you got stranded.

this is until you make eye contact with the body you collided with, a familiar set of blue eyes looking down at you. “i’m sorry i was coming i swear but Chris needed me for something and-“

“you’re okay, i just thought you left me” you smile grabbing his shoulders to stabilize his rapid thoughts that are clearly over taking him.

he lets out a breath of air, smiling back at you but still licking his lips with a sense of hunger that made you melt beneath his gaze.

“let’s go, yeah?” he places his hand in your own and begins to lead you out of the venue. in all actuality you shouldn’t be leaving with him, but he’s hot and he’s kind and the way his voice puts you in a trance has you needing him in ways unfathomable.

it’s a short walk to outside but you immediately feel better with the fresh air entering your lungs, your chest expanding the moment you leave the sweaty party space.

Matt seemed to feel the same relief, you can also see him a lot better now, the street lights illuminating his face making you realize just how attractive he is.

you weren’t even entirely sure what his plans were, but being anywhere but that party was all you needed. “i hate parties so much” you say, beginning to walk along the sidewalk, most likely walking to his car parked somewhere on the street.

“me too, my brothers are always convincing me to go to them but it’s actually my worst nightmare” he replies, hands placed in his pockets as you walk.

“how many brothers do you have?” you ask.

he smiles, as if the mere thought of his family was enough to bring him joy. “i have three but i’m a triplet actually”

“no way!” you grab ahold of his shoulder, an excited habit of yours that you haven’t been able to kick. “that’s so fun i wish”

he presses the key fob latched onto his jeans by a clip and you see an suv unlock ahead of you as you walk, its lights brightening up the space around the vehicle.

you open the door to the passenger seat, the boy walking around to enter the driver seat. “do you have anywhere you wanna go?” he asks, looking at you as you buckle your seat belt.

“anywheres fine with me i just could not be at that party any more” you reply, now fully situated and earning a nod from Matt.

it’s tight street parking and it definitely will not be easy for him to pull out, but he turns on music, mac miller now playing softly through the speaker as he reaches his arm back behind your seat to back out.

you try to focus on anything else, but the way his hand grips the gear causing his veins to become more defined has you shifting in your seat, subconsciously trying to relieve the tension forming between your legs. “i like your rings” you say shyly, failing to mention the ways you want to feel the cold metal inside of you.

“yeah?” what you don’t know is the way his pants are straining from the sight of your plush thighs squeezing together on his leather seats, how badly he wants to be in between them. “i like em too”

you cough, trying to mask the way his words made you feel. “how come you don’t like parties?”

he checks over his shoulder, changing lanes before turning into a park parking lot. “i’m a little anti social when it comes to that kinda stuff”

“just social with me then?” you ask, hoping to keep this conversation going in the right direction.

he scoffs with a smile on his face, unbuckling his seatbelt and leaning back into his seat, spreading his legs slightly as he makes himself comfortable. “yeah just you”

it’s silent for a second, you let different responses to matt’s words linger in your head before finally speaking, your own seat belt now unbuckled as well. “what made me so approachable?” you lean into him slightly, placing your elbow on the centre console and holding your chin up by your hand.

he holds your eye contact, leaning in slightly closer. “well at first it was your smile” he lifts his hand to trace along your jaw, you immediately swallow the lump in your throat.

“then it was how you look in that skirt” his hand makes its way to your hair, fingers grazing your scalp as he mumbles.

“and then” he leans in now, lips aligned with your ear. “it was the way your hands traced over your own body, how desperately you wanted me to see you like that, how desperately i wanted those hands to be mine” his left hand grazes over your bare leg, lightly swaying it back and forth causing you to shiver.

he doesn’t break eye contact once. “Matt please” you beg, not specifying what it is that you need from him.

“what do you want?” his lips make contact with your neck, placing soft kisses along every sensitive spot. you bite your lip to drown out any pathetic whimpers that threaten to leave your mouth, the sensation of the neck kisses alone have you soaked.

you breath pretty heavily, focused on the way his cold rings threaten to make their way to your inner thighs as he speaks. “i want-“ his thumb places a teasing pressure to your clothed aching clit. “i want those hands to be yours”

“there you go, wasn’t so hard was it?” he teases, your legs spreading apart subconsciously, your core begging to be touched.

but he continues his slow movements, his mouth now working its way to your bare collarbone, your back arching into his delicate touch.

before his lips can make their way to you chest you stop him, your finger interfering with his actions, guiding his face up to yours. “kiss me please” you whisper, begging for a sense of intimacy and innocence.

he smiles, breaking his tough guy persona slightly as he leans in to meet his lips to yours. somehow, although you were strangers a mere hour ago, it feels comfortable.

the comfort switches to passion quickly, his hand squeezing your thigh as your tongue slides into his mouth.

it’s short lived before he’s leaning out of the kiss and moving his seat back in one motion, legs spread with room for you on top. he motions for you to come over but for whatever reason your mentally stuck in your seat, frozen in fear at the realization of what’s happening.

“don’t act all shy now baby c’mere” his hands place a light pressure to the sides of your hips guiding you over the console and onto his thigh.

you look down at him, smiling like a goof because you’re on top of a hot boy in a parking lot. “hi”

your arms find solitude on his shoulder to balance yourself, his hands still on your hips as his thigh bone has you weak on top of him.

he keeps one hand on your lower back, the other reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, fully taking in the sight above him. “you’re so beautiful”

your eyes widen at the sentence, taking compliments was never easy for you especially not in this setting. “okay stop” you push him slightly, breaking eye contact to avoid getting flustered.

he turns your chin forcing you to look at him again, leaning into your face. “you are beautiful” he kisses you before you can even deny it. his fingers are quick to toy with the hem of your small shirt, the same shirt that had his mouth watering earlier—the same shirt your delicate fingers ran over as you danced.

“lift” he mumbles, causing you to lift up your arms without a second thought, completely forgetting that you made the decision to not wear a bra tonight.

the look in his eyes is one of pure hunger, your chest displayed right in his eye-line, it takes everything in him to fight back a small moan from the sight alone.

he places a few more teasing kisses along your collarbone while his hands make small circles on your exposed chest. “are you gonna use me to get yourself off pretty girl?” he asks, now taking on hand to guide your hips, rocking them on his thigh with a smirk on his face.

you just nod, too embarrassed to say the words out loud and his mouth immediately makes contact with your left nipple, using the tip of his tongue to lap around the bud. without further hesitation you begin to grind your hips into his leg, his hands now pulling up your skirt lightly to allow more movement.

the consistent pressure of his upper thigh on your clothed clit has you hiding your face in the crook of his neck, not wanting him to see your face as it’s riddled with looks of pleasure.

his hand continues to guide your hips onto him, your fingers interlaced in his hair as let you out muffled moans into his neck. his lips can’t help but form a smirk as the pace of your hips increases, the pleasure building in your stomach at the continues sensation. “such a fucking slut for me, getting off on some strangers thigh” he mumbles, his hands grabbing your ass, squeezing it under the skirt.

you squeeze your legs around his thigh, body chasing more pressure as the pleasure continues to roll through your hips. at this point your a moaning mess, as embarrassed as you are you physically can’t hold back. “mmh fuck matt”

the whiny words leaving your mouth have an effect on his that he wasn’t expecting, his length only increasing at the sound of your noises. he shifts you up slightly, selfishly placing your clothed core on his own center, the buldge giving you something to grind on. “fuck just like that there you go”

he fights back his own moans, still using his hands to force you closer on to him, your pace going faster as a familiar throbbing in your clit signals your closeness. “i’m-“ you let out yet another moan. “close”

Matt lifts his hips slightly, his bulge hitting you exactly where you needed, your legs squeezing around him as you reach you high, his hands not stopping the motion once as your fingers pull on his hair. “okay okay” you sigh, out of breath and exhausted.

you kiss him again, it’s safe to say you’re addicted to it and he definitely does not mind, what he doesn’t expect though is your hand that cups his bulge mid kiss, causing his open to open slightly, unable to kiss you back at the sensation of your hand on him. “fuck don’t tease me baby”

you giggle slightly at how easily you were able to make him fold. “you gonna ride me or what?”

you don’t even answer, instead your lips find comfort in kissing his neck while his hands make their way back to your chest, your nipples completely hardened above him, his hot breath making you squirm under his closeness.

he takes his shirt off and you can’t help but stare for a moment, the vast amount of tattoos are a turn on you didn’t know applied to you. “stop staring and do something” he demands, causing you to unbutton his pants and slide the down slightly, just enough to spring his length free.

you waste no time spreading the pre cum on his tip causing him to shutter slightly. “cmon baby you know what to do”

deep down you know you could give in, you know you could immediately sink onto him and give him what he wants—but that’s no fun.

so instead you time your time, running his tip along your underwear so that you can still receive a small amount of pleasure from your teasing, licking a stripe along his jaw.

what you weren’t expecting was Matt’s hand interfering, sliding your underwear to the side and immediately inserting himself into your center, thrusting upwards without giving you a chance to adjust. “if you’re gonna act like a brat you’re gonna get fucked like one”

you can even mumble out a reply, the feeling of his length hitting your g-spot repeatedly at a speed you have yet to experience has you practically biting his shoulder, squeezing onto his sides as his pace doesn’t let once.

the sight of your tits bouncing up and down with every thrust is enough to make Matt crazy, and the combination of your moans, he could be here like this forever—but he can’t because the way you rolled your hips on his clothed dick already almost made him cum, and him inside of you? he won’t last.

you’re close too but still unable to speak coherent sentences, Matt’s hand sliding down in between your bodies to play with you clit while his thrusts continue.

you are fucked out of your mind to say the very least, eyes rolled back, toes circling, just gone.

lifting your head, you make eye contact with him, the sight of his face that’s currently lost in pleasure is enough to send you over the edge, his fingers still gliding along your puffy clit as he fills you up.

this time he’s the one leaning in for a kiss. “you’re amazing” he mumbles, fully encapsulating your lips with his own once more.

it’s peaceful like this for a moment, soft kisses being shared back and forth, music still playing through the speakers—this is until you hear a phone ring.

Matt’s getting a facetime call. “fuck” he mutters, reaching for his phone to see his brothers contact photo. “just be quiet please?” you nod, smiling slightly.

he answers the call for a quick moment, a camera on the other end pointing at his face temporarily. he simply assures his brothers that he’ll be back to pick them up and he hangs up as soon as possible. “sorry” he leans into your neck, kissing softly.

you just laugh in return. “it’s okay we did kinda ditch everyone”

“i’d do it again in a heart beat” he smiles into you, completely let go of his intense demeanour from earlier.

you trace small lines on his chest, his hands laying softly on your sides. “i still need your number” you mumble, biting your lip as you look at the boy.

“you think?” he teases, grabbing his phone and going to the phone app.

“fuck off Matt”

a/n: i cannot end fics for the life of me and im too lazy to proofread this! @luv4kozume respectfully it’s time for you to write❤️

taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @s7urnfilms @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt @69isabella69 @dracoflaco @mattslatinagf @raekensluver @worldlxvlys @lacysturniolo @greatooglymooglyyy @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss

[shotmrmiller]

I'm your only situationship.

A/N : yall i stayed up til 324 am writing this. I felt like if i went to bed still only having it as a thought and not on 'paper' thats unacceptable. If i gotta think about this then so do yall! it was also supposed to be a small one shot but it got wildly out of hand im not sorry.

18+ MDNI

TW: typical smut, EXPLICIT mmkay im talkin clutch ur pearls explicit.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Simon had finally come home from a grueling 6-month mission. All he wanted was some Kentucky bourbon with you at your favorite seedy bar. 

Once he was home, Simon cleaned up, put on a black clinical mask, and sent a text to you to meet him there. As he finished his first glass of the night, a rather attractive young woman approached him, asking if she could buy him a drink. 

“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, lovie?”

“Not at all. This is after all the 21st century. I’m simply asking— wouldn’t want any missus at home getting upset.”

“There’s no one at home for me, lass.”

“Well then, how about you get yourself another glass, my treat, and we’ll see where this night takes us?” 

He slightly nodded —he’d never say no to a free drink— and as she left to order a drink, he took his phone out to text you again.

“C’mon, pet. I’ll cover the tab. Too good f’me, now?”

His phone vibrated a minute later.

“I can’t today, Si.”

“Why not? I know you don’t go out on Sundays.”

As the young woman came back, drinks in hand, he lifted the screen to read your response.

“I’ve got a dick appointment~ It’s been a year and then some and I’m gonna claw at my walls if I don’t get a fix ASAP.”

Simon goes tense— soft blues hardening to a silver and he’s gripping his phone so hard it might crack. He pulls up your contact and calls you within seconds.

“Hiya, Si!” 

“What the fuck is a dick appointment?”

“Oh,” you giggle. “I forget you older folk don’t know ‘bout that. It’s just a one-night fling. No commitments or nothin'.’ Exactly what I need right now.” You don’t tell him that the reason you’ve practically regrown your hymen is that when you’re best friends with Simon, every other male in existence pales in comparison. 

“Anyway Si-, he’s getting here in like an hour-”

“No.” And hangs up. 

The young woman who’s casually rubbing his bicep and shoulder gets practically flung off of him, as he gets up off the bar stool so fast it’s falling back with a loud clang, and he’s yanking his leather jacket on and pulling on his leather gloves so hard they’re about to become fingerless—

“Hey! I thought you didn’t have a girlfriend?!”

One gloved hand gripping the front door, he turns his head slightly to her and says, “Pet, with how good I’m gonna fuck her, she won’t even have to ask to know she’s mine.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You’re standing in the bathroom with your liquid eyeliner in one hand and phone in the other, staring at the ended call screen. ‘Weird,’ you think, then shrug and put the phone down. ‘Maybe the call got dropped.’

You finally complete the look with your false lashes when there’s a very hard knock on your door. You frown as you look at your phone screen. ‘7:14 pm’. You know the guy said at 8 and you’re in one of Simon’s big shirts he always forgets and your hair is still tied up in an oversized pink and white polka dot scrunchie— The pink leopard print booty shorts you’ve got on will suffice. 

The second time there’s a knock it’s even louder. 

“Jesus Christ, I’m coming!” 

You open the door and say, “I’m sorry I took so long, I—”

Simon flies past you, with a rough shoulder bump and you turn to look at him and he’s almost sprinting to the bedroom, slamming the door open—

“Simon, what the fuck? What’re you doin—”

“Where is he?”, he snarls.

“Who?! Are you talking about my date? He’s not getting here til 8! And why’re you slamming doors in my apartment like you pay my rent?!”

You see Simon deflate immediately at the important part of your answer and chooses to ignore the rest as he takes off his jacket and walks to your hall closet to hang it. Closing your door and locking it, you growl out,

“You need to leave. I haven’t even finished getting ready. I promise I’ll—”

“No, pet.”

“Will you quit interrupting me! Simon, I swear—”

“Pet.” 

You’re holding a scream behind your teeth, about to rip the hair out of your scalp when you see Simon take one loop of his mask off from around his ear and then the other. You gape. You’ve seen Simon without his mask— that isn’t the reason you can no longer find your voice. It’s the way he put his gloved middle finger in between his teeth and pulled it off so sensually. You can feel your cheeks and ears radiate heat from just seeing the tip of his pink tongue. Christ, you’re down horrendously.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract yourself from the fact that you’re getting wet over an interaction so chaste when Simon is touching your ass, giving it a hard squeeze, before moving down to the back of your thighs and lifting you up. You startle at the movement and throw your arms around his neck out of habit, hoping he won’t drop you in the move to your bedroom.

He presses you against the wall with his hips, then grabs both of your ankles from behind his lower back and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. Simon noses your jaw and starts grinding his clothed erection deliciously hard over the definitely wet spot on your shorts and growls out, 

“If you think,” grind “that I’m gonna allow My,” grind “Girl,”  grind—and you whimper in his ear,  “get fucked by some little cock two pump chump,” he gives a forced chuckle, “you must be daft, pet. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, eh? Trying to get my attention? Well, you’ve got it now. “ 

He moves his face to hover his lips over yours— you can lightly smell the bourbon he drank earlier— and he whispers, “You ever like this and I’m around, you come to me. And if I’m away, you wait for me like a good girl and when I come back I’ll give this,” he taps your pussy over your shorts, “greedy little cunt all the cock it can take.”

With a shaky breath, you nod before he kisses you, his bourbon-flavored tongue curling against yours, and you’re moaning into it because you’ve wanted this for too long and he’s finally touching you. Curling your fingers into his ash-brown hair, you move your mouth to his neck, to the right of his adam’s apple, took a bit of skin between your teeth and sucked. 

Simon hisses, dips his fingertips into your flesh hard enough to bruise, and all but yanks you off the wall to toss you onto your bed. 

You yelp as you bounce from the force of his throw— you’re still bouncing on the bed when Simon grabs the waistband of your shorts and knickers to pull right off, which you’re grateful for because the grey knickers you got on aren’t what anyone would wear for a first, second nor third impression.

Simon grabs both of the back of your knees with one hand,  goddamn bear paws, you think, before you feel his tongue in between your lips— so warm and wet and fuck, you needed this, needed him— and he flicks his tongue up and down on your clit. He sticks his long middle finger into you and it goes in without resistance, you’re slippery, drooling over his wrist and finger that’s curled up into the rough patch of nerves against your gummy walls, that he’s pressing into, over and over. God you’re about to come, your legs shake in his one-handed hold and you’ve got a white knuckle grip on the forearm you’re sinking your nails into—

Simon pulls away. You were so close, your eyes start watering because he can’t possibly be this mean to you but then you see him shove his tongue in between his middle and ring finger, eating up your nectar when he says, “The first time I’m gonna make you come, it’ll be on my cock. I want to see the frothy white cream you're gonna leave at the base.” 

You’re nodding hysterically at this point, anything for him to make you come, anything for him.  With a twirl of his index, he’s telling you to get on all fours. Scrambling, you turn over and arch your back— resting your head on your forearms— and you feel his calloused palms run down from your spine to your ass cheeks before he gives it a spank. 

“You have a condom?” 

You shake your head and you mewl out, “No, but I’m clean.”

“Good. I don’t want anything between us.”

You arch your back further, pressing your ass further into his hips when you hear his belt buckle clank and zipper open. Simon brings his palm to your other cheek, reddening it. 

“Fuckin’ hell, pet. Look at you spread out for me.” 

You feel warm velvet over steel over your slit before he slowly pushes inside, not all the way but about a little over half of his length, remembering that your g-spot is a little closer to the front. Fast, relatively shallow thrusts hitting your spot with almost clinical precision have you reeling, your orgasm about to break you, mind and body. Hands tightening painfully, you shatter— loud, high-pitched whines, ringing in your ears and pussy pulsing around Simon’s thick girth— and god, Simon doesn’t stop thrusting. He keeps the same smooth rhythm and you’d think he’s unaffected by the tight vice your pussy has him in— but you hear him, low, deep groans and a tighter grip on your hips telling you otherwise. 

He pulls out to bend over your back, completely covering it, and he murmurs in your ear, “I hope you didn’t think we were done. My girl wanted a fuckin’, now she’s gonna get it.” 

He takes off your pink, silly scrunchy and you see it around his tattooed wrist before he grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and is leaning back up and forcing your back to arch under his pull. You feel his leg at the height of your hips— propped up, foot flat on the bed and knee bent and the other straight on the floor and all you can think of is how this man is gonna kill you with his cock. 

Simon snaps his hips forward, fist full of hair pulling back,  stretching and filling in one strong thrust, bottoming out. He gives you no reprieve, no time to get used to how fucking deep he is, and sets an intense, firm pace that has you feeling a pinch below the navel every time his hip bones slap against your ass, balls to the clit and you love it. Every pinch in your lower belly has your pussy making a squelching sound and you can’t help yourself— you reach underneath your body to feel how split open you are with two fingers, encasing his cock and feeling the skin drag with them as he pulls out.

That has him hissing air between his teeth, he’s about to come but doesn't want it to be over so he pulls out, and opens your cheeks to spit in your furled hole, before pressing in with the pad of his thumb, and you’re almost screaming. He moves back a bit further to spit in your pussy, not that you need it— you’re drenching the sheets underneath you— and now he’s spearing you with his tongue before curling it, getting your juices pooled on it before coming back up, lips smacking, and he grabs your hair in his ponytail and now he uses his other hand to curls his fingers and palm over the front of your throat and that's all it takes for your vision to darken and arms go limp but he’s again, fucking you through your orgasm and this time you leave a creamy white ring at the base of his length. 

“Oh, fuckin hell.” He groans out and it sounds desperate and you know he’s close.

“Come in me, Simon. Please fill me up, I promise I’ll keep it all in.”

He gives a strained chuckle and says, “Pet, I can barely pull out of a driveway much less this tight little cunt.” He squeezes your throat hard, strands of hair popping out of your scalp and his cock feels massive, the pinch in your stomach feels like a cramp from how deep he is and he lets out a low drawn out moan that lasts 3 thrusts— and then there’s warmth filling you up, so much so it leaks from the sides of where you two are connected. Simon lets go of your hair and you fall face-first onto the bed, exhausted. Defeated. Back properly broken. You officially know what it’s like to get fucked within an inch of your life and you love it. 

He pulls out slowly, with a hiss from both of you and with one hand on your left cheek, he spreads you to look at your stuffed hole.

“Fuck. I love seeing me drip out of you.” 

You’re about to tell him to sod off when the doorbell rings and the both of you stiffen and lock eyes. With a mean snarl, Simon grabs a towel from your bathroom and his mask before stomping his way to answer the door, pink obnoxious scrunchy still on his wrist.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

[disneyprincemuke]

ღ this barbie is a race car driver

"did you hear who honda signed?"

"yeah, the daughter of the guy who owns the team."

"what's that about? can she even race?"

"that's what she claims, according to honda's team principal."

"i reckon they just said that cause she's the boss's daughter."

a pair of heels clicking against the polished ground makes the men huddled in a circle collectively turn their heads. the overwhelming clad of pink makes some of them raise their eyebrows: a baby pink dress peeking through her dark pink jacket.

"fans aren't allowed back here," max says hesitantly with a small smile.

"we can take a picture, if you'd like," lando grins, stepping forward. "have you got a phone on you?"

the woman tilts her head. her eyes are big as she stares at the crowd of men in front of her with her shiny lips puckered unknowingly. she furrows her eyebrows slightly, making alex suck in a deep breath.

great, another fan who will villainise them for pushing them out of a restricted area, is all alex could think.

they watch as she takes a deep breath. she perks up with a wide smile, throwing her head back dramatically. she waves her hand in the air with a laugh. "no, silly! i drive for honda," she says with a grin. "you must be lando! and, max, right?"

lando's eyebrows shoot up in shock. a small smile stretches his lips. "oh, i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to–"

"it's no problem!" she giggles, scrunching her nose at lando. "we never met so that's okay!"

she introduces herself and extends her arm out to them with a grin. "congrats on all the titles!" she says to max with a smile. she turns to george with a grin. "i love the hilfiger sweater. i can't seem to find one in my size when i went shopping yesterday."

"uh," george trails off, glancing at alex briefly before looking at her again. "i can try and get you one. no promises, though."

"right," max grins. he points further into the hallway. "the driver's briefing is the last door on the right."

"of course!" she claps excitedly. "it was nice meeting you! i'll see you guys later!"

she waves at them excitedly, earning herself a chorus of dull and monotonous goodbyes and unenthusiastic waves.

alex points at her figure walking down the hall. "very barbie."

"ah, that's who she reminded me of!"

taglist: @angsthology @cashtons-wife @darleneslane (comment to be added)