#this is not about him this is about my BABY BOY

[pucksandpower]

Oscar Jack Piastri-Leclerc

Charles Leclerc x wife!Reader

Summary: congrats … it’s a boy!

You wake up to the sound of the apartment door closing, followed by Charles’ familiar footsteps down the hallway. Sunlight streams in through the curtains as he enters the bedroom, still dressed in his sweaty workout clothes.

“Mon amour, you’ll never believe what just happened,” he says, unable to contain his excitement.

You rub the sleep from your eyes. “What is it, babe?”

“I adopted Oscar Piastri.”

You blink a few times, unsure if you heard that correctly. “You … adopted Oscar Piastri? The McLaren driver?”

“Yes!” Charles exclaims, flopping down on the bed beside you. “It all started when he tweeted about wanting to find Monégasque roots so the Monaco Grand Prix could be his home race.”

“Okay ...” You try to wrap your head around this bizarre situation.

“So I replied saying I could just adopt him if needed. And you know how Oscar is, always ready with a witty comeback.” Charles grins. “He said to call him Oscar Jack Piastri-Leclerc and that he wants to meet Leo on Thursday at McLaren.”

“Charles ...” You can’t help but laugh at the sheer absurdity. “You can’t just adopt a fully-grown man! Especially another F1 driver!”

“Why not?” He throws his arm around you, pulling you close. “We’re gonna be one big happy family. The two of us, Leo, Oscar, Ollie, and whoever else we decide to adopt along the way.”

You playfully shove him away. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Maybe a little.” Charles winks. “But you love me for it.”

Rolling your eyes, you get out of bed and head for the kitchen, Charles trailing behind. “So does this mean Oscar is coming for family dinner this Thursday?”

“Of course! We have to celebrate properly.” Charles scoops Leo up from his bed, cradling the puppy in his arms. “What do you say, Leo? You ready to have another big brother?”

Leo licks Charles’ face, tail wagging excitedly. You lean against the counter, watching your husband and puppy with a fond smile.

“I suppose I’ll have to set an extra place at the table,” you muse. “Your mother is going to flip when she finds out about this.”

“Maman keeps asking when we’ll give her grandchildren, she’ll be thrilled!” Charles insists. “Who wouldn’t want Oscar as a grandson?”

You snort at that. “Grandson? You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”

“I’m serious!” He sets Leo down and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “We can make it official. Have a baby shower and everything once this weekend is over with.”

“You’re unbelievable.” You shake your head in amused exasperation, resting your hands on his chest.

Charles leans in close, his warm breath fanning across your face. “Admit it, my particular brand of crazy kinda does it for you.”

You bite your lip to stifle a grin. “Keep talking and maybe I’ll consider it.”

His eyes spark with mischief and he dips his head to capture your lips in a searing kiss. You melt against him, tangling your fingers in his hair and kissing him back with equal fervor. A loud bark from Leo breaks you apart, both slightly flushed.

“Not in front of the puppy,” Charles teases, booping Leo on the nose.

You swat his arm. “Stop being a brat and go take a shower, you’re all gross and sweaty from the gym.”

“Mmm, why don’t you join me?” He waggles his eyebrows in an over-exaggerated leer.

You laugh, shoving him away playfully. “Not a chance, mister. I have to go out and buy another place setting for our new family member.”

“Can I at least have a good luck kiss? It’s Monaco race week, after all. I’ll need all the luck I can get.” Charles bats his eyes at you in an exaggerated pout.

Shaking your head fondly, you rise up on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “There. Now go get ready.”

Still grinning like a loon, Charles saunters off to the bathroom. You crouch down and scoop up Leo, pressing a kiss to the top of his fuzzy head.

“Your dad is something else, you know that?” You murmur affectionately.

A few hours later, you return home laden with groceries to find Charles lounging on the couch scrolling through his phone. He looks up as you enter, eyes bright.

“Good timing, I was just about to call you.”

“Oh yeah?” You set the bags on the counter and start unpacking. “What’s up?”

“I was thinking ...” Charles gets up and comes over, wrapping his arms around you from behind. “We should do something special for Oscar’s first official family dinner. Maybe a nice home cooked meal out on the balcony?”

You lean back against his chest with a contented hum. “That does sound lovely.”

“I’ll cook!” Charles volunteers immediately. “My famous carbonara?”

“You just want to show Oscar you can manage to make something without burning the apartment down, don’t you?” You laugh, twisting in his embrace to face him.

Charles ducks his head sheepishly. “Maybe a little.”

“Well, I’m not complaining.” You peck him on the cheek. “Go ahead and make your carbonara for our new adopted son.”

“Yes!” He pumps his fist in the air victoriously.

You shake your head at his antics, warmth blooming in your chest. “I love you, you big goof.”

The smile Charles gives you is utterly radiant. “I love you too.”

He pulls you in for a deep, lingering kiss, holding you close. You get so lost in the moment that you don’t notice Leo trotting up and pawing at your legs until he lets out a pointed bark. Laughing, you reluctantly break the kiss.

“Sorry, baby.” Charles scoops up the puppy, scratching behind his ears. “We didn’t mean to leave you out.”

You take Leo from his arms, pressing a smiling kiss to his soft fur. “Don’t worry, you’ll always be our favorite.”

“That’s right,” Charles agrees, booping Leo’s nose. “No matter how many race car drivers we adopt, you’ll always be number one.”

The three of you spend the rest of the afternoon lounging contentedly together, Charles and Leo snuggled up on either side of you. It almost makes you forget the madness that kick started this whole situation in the first place.

Almost.

A few days later, after the drivers have finally been freed from their Thursday media obligations, your doorbell rings. You share a look with Charles as Leo starts barking.

“I’ll get it,” he says, already knowing who it is.

Sure enough, a few moments later Charles returns to the living room with Oscar in tow, looking rather sheepish. You rise to greet your new son.

“Oscar, hi! Come on in.” You pull him in for a hug, which he returns tentatively.

“Sorry about all … this.” Oscar gestures vaguely as you part. “I was just joking on Twitter but then Charles actually went and-”

“Adopted you, yeah.” You laugh. “Don’t worry about it, we’re happy to have you as part of the family.”

“Still getting used to that idea, to be honest.” Oscar scratches the back of his neck.

You wave a dismissive hand. “Well, get ready for lots of family gatherings and parental nagging from this point on.”

“Oh boy.” Despite his words, Oscar’s mouth quirks up in an amused grin.

“Starting with tonight’s big family dinner out on the balcony,” Charles interjects, slinging an arm around Oscar’s shoulders. “You like pasta?”

“Do I ever.” Oscar brightens. “Is Leo gonna be there too?”

“Of course! Can’t leave out my favorite son.” Charles scoops up the puppy, plopping him in Oscar’s arms. “Here, get acquainted with your new little brother.”

“Hiya little guy,” Oscar says softly, instantly melting as Leo licks his face. You watch the tender interaction with a warm smile.

“He’s taken a real shine to you already,” you comment. “I think Leo approves of his new big brother.”

Oscar ducks his head shyly but you can see the corners of his mouth tugging up into a grin. “Guess that makes me an official part of the family then.”

“Damn right it does!” Charles crows, throwing an arm around each of your shoulders and pulling you both in for an enthusiastic group hug.

You laugh, squished between them. “Easy there, dad. You’re gonna smother the poor kid before he’s even settled in.”

“What, you’re not excited to finally have your dream son?” Charles teases, ruffling Oscar’s hair affectionately. “Our little family is complete now.”

Rolling your eyes fondly, you extricate yourself from the embrace. “Why don’t you boys go set up for dinner while I start cooking? The balcony still needs to be prepped.”

“You got it, mon cœur.” Charles drops a kiss on your cheek before herding Oscar out towards the balcony, Leo cradled in his arms. “Come on, son. Let’s get this place looking perfect for your first official Leclerc family dinner.”

You shake your head as their voices fade down the hall, chuckling under your breath. Only your husband would take a silly Twitter joke this far. But as you start gathering ingredients for your grandmother’s legendary bolognese recipe, you can’t help but feel a swell of contentment.

Having Oscar around is certainly going to take some getting used to. But there’s no denying the warm affection and familial love you already feel towards the bashful but kindhearted young man. He fits right in with the playful, chaotic energy that defines your little household.

By the time the sun begins to dip below the horizon, bathing the apartment in a warm golden glow, the balcony is set up beautifully. You carry out the steaming pots of food to find Charles and Oscar setting out plates and glasses, Leo scampering around their feet. Your heart feels full just looking at them.

“This all looks wonderful, you two,” you say, setting the food down on the table. “Now we just need the guest of honor to arrive.”

“Maman’s never been late to dinner a day in her life,” Charles assures you. “She’ll be here any minute.”

Sure enough, there’s a rapid knocking at the door only moments later. You share an amused look with Oscar before going to answer it, Charles and Leo trailing behind.

“Maman!” Charles exclaims as you pull open the door to reveal his mother waiting on the other side. “Perfect timing.”

“Of course, we can’t start dinner without-” She breaks off abruptly as her eyes land on Oscar hovering behind you. “Charles, darling, who is this?”

“Maman, I’d like you to meet Oscar.” Charles beams as he gestures between them. “Your new grandson.”

A heavy silence falls over the room as Charles’ mother processes this bombshell. Her gaze flicks between the three of you, searching your faces for any sign that this is all an elaborate prank.

Finally, she seems to deflate with a sigh. “Oh Charles … what have you done now?”

And just like that, the floodgates open as both of you rush to explain the situation, talking over each other eagerly. Watching the animated scene unfold, Oscar catches your eye with a helpless look.

You just shrug, a soft smile playing at your lips. Chaotic as it is, this is your family now and wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

The following week, the doorbell rings just as you’re putting the final touches on dinner. Charles bounds over to answer it, Leo hot on his heels.

“Oscar! Ollie! Good, you’re both here.” Charles’ voice carries easily through the apartment.

You poke your head out of the kitchen, oven mitts still on. “Is that our other son I hear?”

“The one and only!” Ollie Bearman strolls in behind Oscar, looking completely at ease.

Oscar raises an eyebrow at the younger driver. “Why is nobody surprised you’re here?”

Ollie shrugs nonchalantly. “Teen pregnancy?”

You let out an undignified snort of laughter as Oscar gapes at him. “Don’t look at me, Charles carried you for nine months himself.”

“What?” Ollie whips his head around to stare at Charles in abject horror.

Charles just grins, slinging an arm around each of their shoulders. “You heard the woman. My body is a wonderland.”

“Oh my god.” Oscar buries his face in his hands as you dissolve into peals of laughter. “Why are you like this?”

“Because it’s fun to watch you squirm,” Charles replies cheerfully.

You wipe tears from your eyes as you head back into the kitchen. “Dinner’s just about ready, come grab a plate! Oh, and pray you don’t get food poisoning.”

Soon you’re all settled around the balcony table, tucking into plates piled high with food. Ollie kicks things off by turning to you with a smile.

“This is amazing, thanks for cooking!”

“Don’t thank me, it was all Charles this time,” you say, gesturing to your husband sitting across from you.

Ollie’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You cooked all this? Damn, maybe having you as a dad won’t be so bad after all.”

Charles throws his hands up in mock offense. “Hey! I’ll have you know I’m an excellent father.”

“If you say so.” Ollie smirks, shoveling another forkful of pasta into his mouth.

Oscar just shakes his head in amazement. “I still can’t believe you actually went through with adopting us.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Charles leans back in his chair, casual as can be. “You’re both great kids. Perfect sons.”

“Even if we didn’t ask for it?” Ollie points out around a mouthful of food.

You tsk disapprovingly. “Mind your manners, young man.”

Ollie’s eyes go comically wide and he quickly swallows his bite. “Sorry, mum.”

That sets you and Oscar off into another round of laughter. Even Leo gets in on the action, letting out a little bark from where he’s curled up nearby. Charles watches the scene with fondness.

“See, you’re already fitting right in,” he says warmly once the laughter subsides. “My two idiot sons.”

Ollie opens his mouth to retort but you cut him off, leaning across the table to affectionately pat his hand.

“Don’t listen to your father, Ollie. We’re happy to have you both here.” You shoot Oscar a wink. “Even if you did get adopted under … unusual circumstances.”

“You can say that again,” Oscar mutters, but he’s smiling.

Over the course of the evening, you take great delight in watching Charles easily slip into the role of devoted dad. He makes terrible jokes and embarrassing comments at every turn, clearly intent on annoying his new children as much as humanly possible. Yet it’s impossible to miss the deep well of affection beneath his teasing words and actions.

For their part, Oscar and Ollie play along enthusiastically. They roll their eyes and groan as if put-upon, but you can see the sparkle of happiness and contentment in their eyes as the night wears on. An easy camaraderie develops between the trio, fueled by plenty of back-and-forth needling and good-natured ribbing.

You sit back and watch it all with a permanent smile etched on your face. Your strange little family just keeps growing, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

At one point, you excuse yourself to use the restroom. When you return, the three of them have their heads bent together conspiratorially, hastily falling silent when you reappear.

“What’s this?” You raise an eyebrow as you retake your seat. “Am I being left out of the loop here?”

Oscar shares a look with Charles before turning to you with a sly grin. “We were just thinking ...”

“This family isn’t quite complete yet,” Ollie picks up easily.

You glance between them, utterly perplexed. “What are you two on about?”

Rather than answer, Charles pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously. A few moments later, your own phone buzzes with a Twitter notification — a new tweet from your husband.

Your jaw drops as you read the words over and over. “Charles! You can’t be serious!”

“Why not?” He shoots you an impish grin, clearly reveling in your stunned reaction. “Kimi’s a good kid, he’d make an excellent addition to the family.”

“I … you ...” You sputter, completely at a loss for words.

Oscar and Ollie watch the exchange with matching looks of unrestrained glee. Ollie raises his glass in a mock toast.

“To Mum and Dad, the most extra parents on the grid!”

You shake your head in bewildered amusement as they all crack up. This family just gets more ridiculous by the day.

A short while later, Kimi responds to Charles’ tweet.

The notification sets off another round of laughter and delighted hollering from the three drivers. You hide your face in your hands, torn between mortification and hysterical giggles.

“I can’t take you three anywhere,” you mutter, though you’re smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

A warm arm wraps around your shoulders as Charles leans over to press a smiling kiss to your temple. “But you love us anyway.”

You catch his gaze, momentarily speechless by the contentment shining in his eyes. For all the silliness and absurdity, it’s clear just how much this strange little family truly means to him.

Swallowing past the sudden lump in your throat, you reach up to cup his cheek tenderly. “More than you’ll ever know.”

He beams at you, pure adoration written across his features. Then the moment is broken as an Italian-accented voice rings out from the hallway.

“Hey, did someone call for a new son?”

Oscar, Ollie, and Charles practically tumble over each other in their haste to greet the newcomer. You hang back, taking a moment to catch your breath as you watch the now quartet bound back onto the balcony, a fresh wave of chaos and noise in their wake.

One thing’s for certain — life is never going to be boring with this group around. You shake your head with a soft chuckle, heading back to join your one-of-a-kind family.

[hannieehaee]

aaah hi !!! what about .. mingyu being so pussydrunk he practically begs for u to cum again and again … :33

18+ / mdi

content: pussydrunk!mingyu, softdom!mingyu (but also subby!gyu idk), afab reader, smut, oral, dry humping, mentions of penetrative sex, mentions of cum eating, etc.

wc: 796

a/n: the long awaited return of pussydrunk!mingyu<3

masterlist

"just one more, baby, fuck. please. one more,"

"c'mon, pretty. just let me- let me make you feel good."

"such a pretty pussy, fuck ... need it again ..."

"give me this pretty pussy, baby, please ... need your cunt so fucking bad ..."

the boy's endless pleas were almost inaudible from between your legs as he refused to let his lips wander too far from your cunt. his heavy breath hit your pussy as he continued to beg at you to let him have you again – to let him lick and kiss you to completion and smear his face with your juices once more.

the sight between your legs was nothing less than a complete mess. mingyu stared up at you with wide eyes, eyebrows furrowed with half of his face covered in your juices. his hair was facing in all directions from the pulling you'd been doing during the past hour. yet he continued to beg for you, forcing his head back between your legs any time you'd grow too sensitive and attempt to pry him again.

"just one more, angel. just wanna make you cum one more time," he swore with a pained look in his eye.

with tearful eyes, you nodded, not trusting your voice to give him permission to bury his face between your legs once more. but he didnt need verbal confirmation as he thanked you breathlessly and buried his nose into your cunt.

his tongue came out to sneak between your lips, light in his movements before passion took over and made him begin dragging his tongue in and out of you with fervor. you shuddered when his nose dragged through your folds, causing him to groan into your cunt and drag your hips even closer to him for a better angle.

while you had been very vocal in your pleasure the last few orgasms, you could no longer let out any noise other than pathetic whines and weak sobs. mingyu managed to make more noise than you, groaning out praise against your cunt and encouraging the pressing of your legs around his face.

"prettiest cunt ... fuck, need this gorgeous cunt every day," he whined as he slowed down his tongue, pointing it to tease at your clit.

"fuck, i know baby, it's so good, isn't it? pretty cunt needs my tongue? like this?", he breathed out when you began whining even louder for him, pushing his head further between your legs.

"g-gyu ..."

"it's okay, pretty. just wanna make you gush all over my face. be good and cum for me again, yeah? let me make that pussy cry for me," he encouraged with a groan, words mumbled and almost inaudible due to his proximity to your cunt.

"g-gonna cum, g-gyu. please, i-"

"shh, baby. just cum all over my face, pretty. let me lick you all up, pretty."

it didnt take much more encouragement for you to let yourself go, crying out when your orgasm finally took over all while you pushed and pulled at him, body unsure of how to react at the sensitivity you felt at your nth orgasm of the night.

mingyu's insistence in continuing to lick at you as you went through your high had tears streaming down your face, unable to catch your breath as you filled the room with high-pitched gasps. this only amplifies mingyu's hunger for you, causing him to rub his tongue and nose into your cunt with even more intensity, leading to an endless cycle of lewd sounds and whines from both you and him.

when your high finally subsided, mingyu disconnected from you, allowing you to finally fall back on the bed as he climbed over you, kissing up your body without bothering to even wipe his face from your essence. he made his way to your lips, slipping his tongue in your mouth while he murmured praise to your cunt in between kisses. far too soon, his hard cock began making contact with your sensitive cunt, making you gasp into his lips.

he simply took advantage of your open mouth, suckling at your tongue as he ground into you. you couldnt help yourself in encouraging him, playing with his hair and kissing back to the best of your ability.

"don't worry, pretty. gonna fuck that pretty pussy now, okay? gonna fill you up and, and then 'm gonna lick it all off you," he murmured, "gonna eat that pretty pussy til you're begging me to stop," he promised.

your desire for him overpowered your exhaustion, making you nod mindlessly at him with a pained look in your eye, which you knew only drove him even more lustful.

the night would be long and exhausting, but fulfilling your boyfriend's pussydrunkness soon became your priority, falling victim to your own lust for him.

[pynkfairyheart]

pairings: peircer eren x black reader

warnings: smut 18+, kinda pervy eren

Good girl

“Hello?” Your soft voice rang over the chimes as you entered the tattoo parlor.

The shop was quiet, seemingly empty besides the softening chimes of the door and surprised cursing down the long hall.

“Shit- yeah. Just give me a minute. My apologies” The culprit of the cursing called.

In the meantime, you took a look around the lobby. The reviews didn't do the place justice. The largest wall contained a bright colorful mural, contrasting beautifully with the dark floors and connected black walls.

While admiring the piece of artwork, heavy thudding from the long hallway turned your attention to the most gorgeous man you had ever seen.

You never believed in love at first sight, up until now. You hadn't even known the man's name yet, but you craved him. The reviews warned you the entire staff was attractive but they clearly left out that this man was a god.

His long hair was pulled into a low bun, strands falling in his face, the color contrasting against his pale skin. He was tall, with a full sleeve on one of his muscular arms, and his green eyes had you drowning immediately. He couldn't be Onyankopon, they said he was a brother. Maybe Connie or, Levi-

“Hi, I'm Eren” He introduced himself after swallowing the large knot in his throat.

While in your own trance, you failed to notice how he froze the moment he saw you. The bright light you stood under showcased the sparkles of your pretty brown skin.

Your legs were on display as a result of the simmering heat outside, thick thighs causing them to roll up slightly. The fitted t-shirt you wore allowed the hardened buds of your nipples to peek through, despite the hot weather.

Eren never considered himself a pervert but the way his mind instantly thought about sucking on them till you begged him to fuck you had him thinking otherwise.

“Hi, I'm [☆]. Is this a bad time?” Oh, he could have come on the spot, your voice sounded even better without the numerous walls separating you and god your perfume had him wanting to devour you on the reception desk.

“No, no I just don't know how much I can do for you, the AC is out in all the rooms but mine and I don't even know how long that's gonna last so if you're looking for an hour long tat session you'll have to come back” He crossed his arms, muscles contracting against the white tee.

“Oh no, I'm just hoping to get a few piercings but I can definitely come back another time”

“No, I can do a couple of piercings. What were you thinking?” He grabbed the paperwork from under the counter, praying one of them would be your chest.

“Uh well, I want the other side of my nose, belly button, venus dimples, and my nipples but I understand if you can't do all of that or the last one I'll just come back”

“No, no I can do it,” He said too quickly, clearing his throat awkwardly before handing you the paperwork.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

“Good girl. You're doing such a good job for me, pretty. Just hold on for one second, lovey”

He was currently doing your last dimple piercing. The pain was unimaginable at first but as soon as the praises left his mouth all was forgotten besides the growing stickiness that rested between your thighs.

He praised you after every piercing a variation of “Good girl” “You're doing such a good job for me” “That's it, baby. You did so good” flowed from his pink lips. You could never decide which throbbing to focus on, the one from your new piercing or the throbbing of your clit.

With three new holes in your body and damp panties, it was now time for the piercing both of you were dreading yet excited for.

“Do I just take my shirt off here?”

“Wherever you're comfortable, baby. You can go in the bathroom or stay in here and I'll give you some privacy” He felt like a teenage boy again. His dick twitching at the thought of seeing you exposed.

“No, it's okay you can stay in here I don't mind”

“Oh. Okay,” He perked up. Giving you some privacy he turned his back, pretending to be busy when in reality he was trying to think of anything but you getting undressed behind him. Despite his concentration, all he could focus on was the sound of your necklaces and bracelets clanking at the movements you made.

He knew your nipples were still hard, especially since he took advantage of the working AC and he wondered what your moans would sound like if he flicked his tounge repeatedly over the bud, or if he pinched them in front of the mirror while you begged him to fuck you as you pressed your ass against his hard-

“I'm ready” Your soft voice broke him from his thoughts.

If his self control was any less he'd have gotten on his knees to worship you. There you were. Looking everywhere but him, tits exposed. If it weren’t for the fact other men besides him would see, he'd tattoo this image of you on his bare forearm.

“Are you ready?” He suppressed a groan.

“Mhm”

“Okay stand up for me” He led you to the mirror where he prepped each bud. During the process, you felt as if you could crawl into yourself. The most beautiful man you'd ever laid eyes on had his hands on your breast. Despite the occasion being nonsexual, you were convinced your arousal would start running down your thigh at any second.

“Is this okay?” He stood behind you.

You gave a simple hum of approval, thoughts gone as he explained how the process would go. You convinced yourself you could handle it, that it would all be over soon.

That was until he rolled the bud in between his fingers, the whimper you'd been holding escaping you.

‘fuck’ ‘fuck’

“Shit, I'm so sorry I- I didn't mean to do that, please understand I had no malicious intentions I just” He stumbled over his words.

He was just explaining the step by step process of the piercing. He wasn't thinking, just craving. He wouldn't have realized his actions if it weren't for the sound you let out. The sound he knew he'd replay in his head the moment you left the shop, stroking his cock as he imagined it were you down on your knees in front of him.

“It's okay” You reassured him. Your big eyes staring up into his through the mirror.

“I didn't…I don't mind”

⋆⭒˚.⋆

Before you knew it you were bouncing on his cock. His moans muffled as his mouth engulfed your breast. Tongue slightly grazing your nipple with the flickers of his tongue before sucking harshly.

He was stretching you out so good, leaky red tip repeatedly hitting your cervix as his frenum piercing brushed against your walls. The added pleasure contributing to the pace of your bounces as you chased your high.

“E-eren please” You whined, attempting to push his head away from the assault on your breast. His hair was everywhere, the ponytail holder long gone the moment your hands entangled in his hair. Your buds were so sensitive, every suck and swipe of his tongue had you squeezing around him, every clench releasing your cream that pooled at the base of his cock.

“Fuck” He groaned, reluctantly giving your boobs a break. His hands gripped the soft flesh of your ass, groping the brown skin before placing a hard slap on your cheek.

“Talk to me, pretty. You like this? Like bouncing on daddy's cock hmm?” His arms wrapped around you tightly as he fucked up into you.

“Oh my- fuck” You gave him control. Your head resting on his shoulder as you let out pornographic moans into his ear.

“Answer me, mama” Another slap landed on your ass.

Before you had time to register the mix of pain and pleasure on your flesh, the gentle pressure of his finger rubbing circles on your puckering hole had you seeing stars.

“Fuck y-yes. I love it so much, daddy. Please don't stop” You whined. Tears of pleasure wetting the crook of his neck.

By no means was Eren a fast finisher but boy was he trying his best to hold on, you're pussy was just squeezing him so tight, the added tension on his scalp as you tugged on it every time he hit the spongy spot along your walls had his nails digging crescents into your skin.

“I'm so close, daddy, please”

“Let go mama” He pressed hot kisses along your neck and shoulder.

In that moment you came, your pussy tightening around the large girth of his cock. Clear liquid squirting from you in streams as he continued his thrust. Your arousal splashing and dripping onto the chair.

With sweat dripping down his forehead, and stray hairs sticking to him, his thrust became sloppy and his breathing became heavier.

“S-shit” He whimpered, head thrown back as he came harder than ever. Repeatedly pushing his load back into your pussy.

“Lemme take you on a date. Please” He panted once you both came down, his hands roaming your body as he looked down at you, green irises peeking out behind his blown pupils.

“Okay, yea- oh” A broken moan escaped you as he moved your hips up and down his length once again.

“Eren” You whined

“Don't tell me you're wiped out after one round, pretty girl. I know you have more in you, mama. Be a good girl for daddy”

for my eren girlies. this is probably the fastest I've ever wrote bc i just needed peircer eren. oh also how do yall feel about pegging bc i feel peircer eren can be a bit subby sometimes ttm. mwah <3

[bunnis-monsters]

A subby demon with a body worship kink 🙏 like kiss the ground you walk on type

NSFW

If perfect had an image next to it in the dictionary, in his opinion, it would be a portrait of you.

Everything about you made his body ache with need. Your pretty eyes, the soft fat on your hips, the way you kissed the top of his head and held him in your arms when he needed your love… it all showed him just how perfect you are.

“My love, my goddess…”

His tail swayed as his head rested on your soft thighs, a purr rumbling from his chest. There was nowhere he was happier than right here with you.

A soft whine escaped his lips as he nuzzled his cheek against your thigh, careful not to poke you with his horns.

“What is it, sweetheart? Does my baby need something?”

You didn’t know it was possible, but he purred louder, the bed rumbling underneath you. It felt good, the vibrations stimulating your clit just enough to get you wet.

The second he smelt your arousal, his nose gently nudged against your panties. He looked up at you for approval, his tongue poking out. Honestly, you thought he looked like a puppy ready for a treat like this.

“Can I?”

And there they were, his pleading puppy dog eyes. His claws kneaded into your thighs as he continued to softly nuzzled his nose into the wet spot on your panties, letting out soft whimpers and whines.

You smiled, giving his horns a gentle rub, causing him to let out a muffled moan. “Go on, love.”

As soon as you finished your sentence, he tore your panties from your body and buried his face between your thighs. His claws kept your thighs squished against his face.

The feeling of your plump flesh against his cheeks as he devoured your pussy was enough to have his cock standing at full attention… but he ignored it. His goddess was right in front of him, her cunt soaked and delicious. How could he care about his pleasure at all when hearing you moan and tasting your pussy was all he could ever need?

But you were so kind, a saint to him… you lifted your foot and gently rubbed his cock, making him moan into your pussy.

You looked down at him, your cheeks hot. “Can you cum just from that, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes… if you want me to, I’ll do anything…”

Before long he was shooting cum all over your legs and feet, barely able to keep himself from humping your leg like a dog in heat.

You didn’t give him much of a break though. While he was still panting, you straddled him, your hips hovering over his leaking cock, still shooting cum.

“Tell me what you want, baby…”

He desperately pawed at your hips, tears in the corners of his eyes. “W-want you to use my cock… please, please lemme cum inside…”

You cooed, pressing a kiss into his forehead as your hips settled on his lap. He cried out as you lowered yourself onto his cock. “Mmph!”

His tail whipped around furiously, wrapping around your leg. As you began to bounce on his cock, the tip of his tail rubbed against your clit.

“S-such a good boy… feels so good…” you whimpered out. He whined, raising his hips to meet yours.

“W-wanna cum… please..!”

“Shh, shh…”

Your lips met his in a sloppy kiss, feeling his tongue rub against yours as he explored your mouth.

“I’m almost there, sweetheart… wait for me, we’ll cum together okay?”

His cheeks were red, tears now beading down them as he nodded. It was hard, he wanted to fill his beloved up with his cum NOW!

But… he could never disobey you, not when he adored you so much.

“C-cumming!”

The second your pussy clenched around him, he painted your walls white, shooting his cum into your womb. A muffled moan left his mouth as he buried his face into your neck, biting down to mark you as his.

Soft panting filled the room as the two of you recovered. “My perfect angel, oh my love…”

He peppered your face and neck in kisses, cooing and praising you. “Sorry… does it hurt?”

His claw gently traced the bite mark he left, a dull ache in his heart when you winced.

“A little… but it’s okay.”

You fell onto the bed with him, giggling as he started up his purring again. With his face buried in your breasts and his claws kneading you, you couldn’t help but associate him with a sweet kitten.

“I love you… you’re my everything, I’ve never adored someone like I adore you…”

That meant a lot, considering he had lived for centuries…

“I love you too, sweetheart… let’s rest, hmm?”

He nodded, placing his palm over your belly as he rubbed his face against you. He was hoping to have successfully planted his seed in your womb…

Your body, glistening in sweat was his temple of worship. He planted kisses along your belly and chest, licking up the mess he had created on your legs and feet.

He kissed your soles, worshipping you like a goddess, rubbing his face against you to make sure you were covered in his scent.

“My beautiful angel… so soft and warm…”

He settled between your thighs, laying his head on your soft belly. His purring increased when you scratched between his horns, playing with his hair.

As the two of you drifted off, he couldn’t help but thank whatever entity sent you to him enough. He was lucky to have such an amazing lover, and he would worship you until the day you died.

[vivwritesfics]

Hand Print

Carlos has these big strong sexy hands. He uses them to grip her ass in sex, leaves a hand print seen by Lando at the beach.

Warnings: smut, P in V, biting, marking

@biancathecool had the idea, I brought it to life lmaoooo

It made so much sense that he was strong enough for this, now. With all of the cycling he did, Carlos had been in the gym, working out his arms. Keeping his proportions the same.

She loved it. Loved the way it felt to have his strong arms wrapped around her. It was a turn on, actually. Cuddling with Carlos never lasted long when she could feel his muscles against her.

Fuck, she just wanted to bite him. Bite his strong, tanned arms. The joys of having an athlete boyfriend.

Where she liked biting her boyfriend, leaving gentle, consensual bite marks on his skin, Carlos liked to hold her ass.

Well, not just hold. His grip on her, on her hips, thighs, anywhere he could get a hold of. The way his tight grip left her skin with delightful bruises was just the cherry on top.

This time around, Carlos held her ass. He gripped the flesh as she rode him, her moans filling the room. "Fuck," he grunted and squeezed tighter, matching the way she was squeezing him, cunt gripping his cock.

It wasn't often their time away coincided with Lando, Carlos's best friend on the grid. They knew they were supposed to be going to the private beach with Lando and his new girlfriend, but the minute she put on that bikini, he had to have her.

And the feeling of her cumming around his cock was so fucking worth it. Even if she had to take a few extra minutes to fix her hair and makeup before they headed to the beach.

She didn't notice the handprint Carlos had left behind as she pulled her new bikini bottoms over her ass. Carlos just caught a glimpse of it as she pulled her beach skirt over the top. Damn, she was so fucking delectable.

Carlos held her as they made their way down to the beach. His big strong arms around her as he carried their things in his other hand. There was, quite literally, nothing better.

"Bit fucking late!" Lando called as they walked over.

Carlos sat their stuff down with a grin. "Got a bit... distracted," he said as she laid out the blanket. He watched as Lando rolled his eyes and she hit his chest.

The beach day started off normal. She laid in the sun, read her book and basked in the feeling of the warmth on her skin, as Carlos laid beside her, tracing patterns across her stomach.

There was no keeping this man away from his girl.

But then Lando had him up and playing football as she chatted to Lando's new girlfriend, getting to know her (it wasn't the first time they'd met, but the first time they'd met she hadn't been serious with Lando. So, Carlos's girl hadn't bothered).

She laid on her stomach as they talked and laughed, hand cushioning her head. "Oh, just wait until they try taking us golfing," she said and the other girl laughed. It seemed she had found a friend.

But this story isn't about friendship. This story is about Carlos and his big, strong hands.

After a good and probably unfair game of football in the sand (knowing the two of them, there was definitely some cheating going on), the boys wandered back over. "Here, baby," she said, handing Carlos a bottle of water. He downed it in one go.

"Thank you, Hermosa," he said as he leaned down to kiss her. It was pure bliss, just like every day with Carlos. But there is always something that interrupts that bliss.

"What the fuck is that on your ass?"

"Why are you staring at my ass, Norris?" She called back, immediately on the defensive. But, as she spoke, she was glaring at her boyfriend.

But Lando was still looking. Defensively, she pulled down her bikini bottoms to cover more of her ass, but in that moment, she only showed off more of the handprint on her ass.

"You guys are freaky as fuck," said Lando as he said beside his girlfriend.

"You haven't seen nothing, Norris."

It was only muttered as she pulled Carlos closer. "What the fuck is on my ass?" She hissed in his ear as she kissed the spot just beneath it.

Carlos flexed his fingers.

"You asshole, that's hot as fuck."

She ended up with a few more that night.

[42internetgirl]

boat ride — rafe cameron

summary: rafe making it up to you after arguing over his ex-girlfriend sofia.

warnings/notes: fluff, pogue reader but it's not like a big part of the plot, soft!rafe. genuinely think this might be the first time i’ve written something that isn’t sexual/suggestive for rafe 😭 i need help. but i’m trying to write more fluff for him :) if you have any requests please send them! <33 love u all sm. also thanks to @starkeysprincess, my baby, for giving me the idea of a cute boat date that inspired this idea in my head !!!! <3333

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

“i just don’t get why you still need her in your phone, and why she still stays texting your phone!” you get defensive while sat in your boyfriend passenger seat. this was the second time you’d gotten in an argument over his ex-girlfriend, sofia. you trusted rafe, if you didn’t you wouldn’t be with him, but the thing was that; you didn’t trust her. her little texts asking rafe ‘how he was’ or ‘if he was busy and wanted to come over', you’d had enough.

“really? you’re going to genuinely get upset over this?”, rafe scoffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. part of him thought it was funny, only because the thought of you thinking that he wanted anyone else was humorous to him. he literally wanted to marry you, and some random ex-girlfriend in his phone was the last thing on his mind.

“yes rafe,” your eyes widened, waiting for him to say something. “yes i am.”

“s’fuckin’ stupid.” his right hand gripped the wheel, pissed off that you were so upset about his ex still being in his phone despite him always shutting her down. the thing that made you so upset about the whole situation was the fact that he let her down in the nicest ways possible. 'sorry, can't make it. maybe another time." sorry? what the fuck was he sorry for? maybe another time? does he want to see her?

“take me home.” you give up. you couldn’t be bothered to argue with him over this right now. your point always went straight over his head.

“are you serious?”

“does it look like i’m joking?” you pretend to scavenge for something in your purse, embarrassed that this was the second time you had to bring up this issue with rafe. did he not love you enough to just listen to you and block her?

rafe didn’t say anything, but instead put his truck in drive and made his way to your house, it was a silent 10 minutes.

your argument with rafe was long gone, you didn’t bring it up and neither did he. the ignorance was bliss for you, you liked to hope that after dropping you off at home and watching you silently tear up in his truck that night, that maybe he went home and blocked sofia.

you knew that wasn’t what went down, but the thought of anything else happening made you sick. so, you figured never bringing it up again would be more beneficial, even though you wanted to so badly.

“wanna go for a boat ride?” rafe let his phone fall to his chest and let out a yawn, both his hands making their way up your thighs that were rested on his legs. you two had tanneyhill all to yourselves, and sitting on the living room couch both occupied in your own tiktok for you pages was how you’d spent your time so far.

“sure,” you reply softly. one thing you loved about dating a rich kook was getting to ‘casually’ take a boat ride.

“cmon.” rafe pulled you out of your slumped position on the couch. "gotta surprise for you."

you smiled at him, wondering what the surprise could be. rafe wasn't always the best with surprises and such, but the bug smile on his made you think that maybe this time it would be different. his eagerness reminded you of a little boy on christmas.

"after you ma'lady," rafe chuckled and put his arm out, signaling for you to make your way out to the dock before him. he followed after you, "close your eyes." he took both hands and wrapped them around your face, covering your eyes.

"rafe!" you giggle. almost losing your balance, your grip onto his big arms, feeling safe when they're wrapped around you.

"hey! no peeking."

"i cant! with your big ass hands in my face!" the huge grin on your voice could be heard just through your voice.

"m'kay, ready?" rafe gets closer to you, his chest pressed up against back, he leaves a kiss on your ear.

"yes!" you couldn't contain your excitement anymore, you needed to know what your boyfriend had planned for you.

rafe dropped his hands from your eyes, but you kept one arm wrapped around his, not wanting to let go of him.

you were speechless. the string lights set up perfectly, complimenting the pink and blue sky, the wicker basket filled with all your favorite snacks, the white blanket laid across the floor of the boat, the pink and red (your favorite colors) colored gift boxes set up neatly, just waiting for you to open them.

no one had ever done anything like this for you before, tears welt up in your eyes, you buried yourself in rafe's chest, leaving a few tear stains on his grey t-shirt.

"i love you baby," rafe gave you a quick peck on the head. your tears and reaction almost getting a reaction out of him. seeing you with the biggest grin on your face had rafe literally doing cartwheels in his head. he swore he'd never love someone as much as he loved you, but there he was, spending all his money and time trying to make you happy.

"all this for me rafey?" you looked up at him with teary eyes. puckering your lips, waiting for him to give you a kiss, he does of course.

"well who else would it be for?"

rafe's ego would never let himself admit that this was all because he felt bad for arguing over his ex-girlfriend, but you knew it was. rafe had a soft spot for you and you loved it.

"i love you rafe."

[tidcl]

Hi, I have a smau request for Charles (based on c.ai bot lol, and the fact that I love painting), so the reader is invited by her friends to a house for vacation, her friends are all with their s/o and they also always try to set up reader with someone, that's when her and Charles meet, and reader finally gives it a chance because she knows her friends won't stop to set her up. They talk for a whole evening about what they do in life (reader is an artist/painter) and they get along really well. Eventually they get together and reader is very liked by the public, even if there will always be haters, but most fans thinks she's just very adorable (especially because of her insta/twitter posts)

CL — slip up and i call you baby

pairing(s): charles leclerc x artist!reader

summary: you love your friends, you really do. you just wish they’d stop trying so hard to set you up with random guys. [smau + written fic] (read on: ao3)

fc: faceless

word count: 5.1k

warnings: mild sexual references

a/n: this is such a cute idea! thank u so much for sending it in!! u will not believe how much this idea gripped me like i never write one shots like this its just unheard of for me if im honest. anyway i know u asked for a smau so i will be doing a second part/continuation to this that is solely an smau to make up for that. (ALSO sorry for disappearing i was super sick for the whole week and have been getting my shit back together in the aftermath😭)

(yn’s messages)

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ynusername italy we are in u!!!

Amalfi Coast, Italy

You’ve never been particularly boy crazy. At least not the same way your friends are.

There have been a few not-quite boyfriend’s over the years, but those relationships never last long. They never really get you, or they never really get the art thing. Which means, of course, that they don’t get you and never will— and that’s fine, you’re content with that. If living for your art means you’ll never be in love then so be it and frankly, good riddance to them.

For the most part, you’ve given up trying. You go on a few dates here and there, but you never let them stick around. Even the ones that seem interested in your paintings you don’t bother with— none of them really seem to be able to grasp what art truly is to you. It isn’t just paint on a canvas, it’s living, it’s breathing. You are only yourself with a way to make art.

It’s difficult to put into words.

So you don’t. Instead, you send texts that say ‘thanks for your time but this isn’t working out’ and you keep the men your friends try to set you up with at arm's length. You placate Chloe and her partner Rowan– who collects friends like they’re Pokémon– with, “he wasn’t my type” and “I’m not looking for a relationship right now”, which you suppose is true, but also isn’t the entirety of it. Yet, every time without fail, there’s a new boy at the scene of the crime.

Chloe doesn’t get it, none of your friends get it. You don’t try to explain it to them. So, y’know, here you are again.

Anyway, here’s the thing: they’re getting closer. Inexplicably, without knowing how you really feel about it all, Chloe and Rowan are getting better and better at picking the boys who are able to tempt you. Which is a pain really, because sometimes you’re trying to have a perfectly nice vacation in Italy without the lure of a boy you can’t let yourself have. But alas, these things generally don’t go your way.

You should know that by now.

Charles Leclerc is bang on the money, he really is. He is unbearably cute, like so cute that you have to leave the room when he walks in, because you don’t trust yourself to be in close proximity to him right now. You have a hard time looking at his face when you are forced to be around him. The dimples when he smiles, the squint of his eyes even when he isn’t. If you look too long you’re liable to stare and that wouldn’t lead to anything good at all.

He’s nice as well. So nice, just like Chloe told you. You try to pretend he doesn’t exist and he still asks you questions about your job and the area of Monaco you live in— like he’s even interested, like he’ll remember you two weeks from now. You try your best to be pleasant, to answer without it being like pulling teeth, and to ask questions of him as well. You’ll probably see him again after this, so best to not to go too far and act like you hate him. It’s difficult though, toeing the line between friendly and encouraging of more. Or it feels difficult for you. Charles doesn’t make even the slightest suggestion of the two of you being set up by your nosy friends. That’s unbearable too. Part of you wishes he’d just make a clumsy pass at you so you can rebuff it and make your intentions abundantly clear. But, obviously, he doesn’t, because he’s perfect or something.

It sucks. You hate him, you think.

Or you want to.

On the second day of the trip, you’re on the villa’s private beach, laying in the hot sun. Chloe, Anaïs and Bea are there; everyone else is either still sleeping off the wine from last night or swimming in the glittering ocean. You’ve got a secondhand book, a 2B pencil and a pair of sunglasses over your eyes. You’re trying to read but you just end up doodling, drawing your friends bikini-clad bodies over the text and shading grapes into the margins. Trying desperately not to accidentally put Charles Leclerc’s dimples, messy hair, or sloped nose to paper.

“So,” Chloe says conspiratorially, as you abort an attempt at drawing a slightly squinted eye with thick lashes, “What do you think of Charles?”

You raise an eyebrow carefully at her over your sunglasses, betraying nothing of your inner turmoil, “I think nothing.”

Anaïs laughs, rolling onto her back, “That’s such shit. You practically sprint away from him everytime he comes near.”

“I do not,” you answer too quickly.

Anaïs laughs again, louder. Chloe joins in and Bea raises her eyebrows at you like you’re a fucking liar. You frown, glaring a little before stubbornly turning your head back to your book. The conversation about Charles ends there, but unfortunately your actions have spoken for themselves. A chill of something like panic chitters up your spine and into your shoulders. You have to roll them to make the feeling go away.

As the sun climbs higher in the sky you lose some people to the heat and gain others. It’s just you and Chloe sweating onto your towels when Rowan and Charles finally give up on whatever game they were playing in the ocean. Rowan collapses unceremoniously into the space between you and Chloe, kicking up sand and getting water droplets all over you like he’s a wet dog. You let out a noise somewhere between a laugh and an exasperated groan as you roll away from him, landing in the sand.

“Watch it,” you cry, “You’re getting my book all wet.”

Rowan laughs, “You’re drawing in it!”

“So.”

He pulls a face at you that makes you roll your eyes; then he turns into Chloe, shoving his face into her collarbone and flinging limbs over her. You snort, leaning over to snag the book off your towel before it gets dragged into the mess that Rowan is causing. You’re about to get up and go inside until you realise Charles is still standing there. Has, in fact, been standing there since Rowan ran over. Your breath catches, heart skipping a beat as you look up to find him standing there.

“Hey,” you smile briefly at him, quickly looking away from his damp hair and bare chest (–which is difficult to do because, holy shit–) so you can gather up your towel.

“Hi,” he replies.

He might smile back. You don’t look. You’re trying to get the image of his washboard abs out of your head. This proves difficult when you clamber to your feet and find yourself face to face with him.

“Are you heading back?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

God, you want to kick yourself. You’re being so awkward, and right in front of Chloe too, who may not be watching but is absolutely listening to you make a fool of yourself in front of a guy you have very firmly said that you are not interested in. It must be clear to him too, that you’re trying very deliberately to not be interested in him. You cant tell what would be worse; if that means he’ll think you’re a weirdo or if it means he’ll take it as a sign that he should make some kind of move.

Ugh.

“I’ll come with you?”

“Hmm,” you blink yourself back into existence, seeing the questioning look on Charles’ face, “Yes, yeah. Sorry.”

You say goodbye to Chloe and Rowan who barely look away from one another, still rolling around in the sand like teenagers.

“Gross,” you say to Charles, as the two of you trudge through hot sand toward the sandstone steps that lead up to the villa.

He laughs, a breathy thing that tapers off with a sigh, “A bit, yes.”

You don’t say anything else, but you find yourself staring at his back and the way his muscles shift and move underneath his tanned skin. At the top of the stairs you part ways, he smiles at you and you offer something awkward in return, trying to pretend you hadn’t been looking at him. You don’t think he notices, but your cheeks red burn anyway.

You don’t see him watching you leave.

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chloegarelli hungover, sunkissed and lovesick

Amalfi Coast, Italy

Dinner is a huge affair, as it always is on these trips.

You, Anaïs and Chloe spend three hours in the kitchen that afternoon making chicken fricassée and about a hundred different side dishes to go with it. Everyone crowds around the dinner table to eat and drink even more wine than the night before. Piero Piccioni plays on the old record player, crackling away as you laugh and talk and tell stories with your friends well into the night. You watch the sun set through floor-to-ceiling glass windows and you wish wish wish that you had your paints right now.

You brought along a set of oil pastels and one of your art notebooks, but it doesn’t compare at all to painting. If you could get your hands on cadmium yellow in all it’s hues, maybe vermillion and a powder blue, your lack of paintbrush or canvas wouldn’t even matter. You’d use your fingers if you needed to. It bothers you so much that you get up in the middle of clearing away the meal and go to your room for the pastels and notebook. You need to get it on a page at least.

You push a few plates to the side, folding out your notebook and immediately marking the page up with a creamy white pastel. Bea teases you when she comes over to take the rest of the dirty dishes, but you just mumble something unintelligible, too engrossed with smudging the sunset into something that looks like what you’d seen out the window. When the oranges and yellows blend to your satisfaction you take the black and brown and draw in the top of your friends’ heads, not thinking about how much attention to detail you’re paying to the shape of Charles’ side profile.

When you’re finished, you’re surprised to see that the table is cleared save for a few half-full wine glasses and a fresh bottle. Only Chloe, Rowan and Charles are still sitting by you. You’re listening to another Piero Piccioni album now, or maybe just the other side of the record. You remember saying goodnight to the others and saying yes to a glass of wine, so you’ve not been totally dead to the world, but it’s all in a bit of a haze.

You think this might be part of the reason why you can’t hold down a boyfriend. The disappearing into your art like you cant breathe until it’s finished. That may as well be the case if you’re honest.

You sigh, wiping your stained fingers on the next blank page, then you take a long sip from your glass of merlot, pretending you dont notice the others’ eyes on you.

“All done?” Chloe quips, somewhere on the border of teasing and being annoyed at you.

You look at her, your eyes just narrowing enough for her to notice. She does and purses her lips. You raise an eyebrow to ask okay, what’s your fucking problem? And you see her eyes flash to Charles. You follow her gaze to see him and Rowan pretending to look disinterested in your answer. Charles is tracing the base of his wine glass and absently biting the inside of his mouth. You have to tear your eyes away.

“All done,” you answer, tone clipped, before gathering your things (including the wine glass) and leaving the room in a move you hope doesn’t come off as too rude.

At your back you hear Rowan ask Chloe, “What was that?”

Chloe means well, you think as you wind through the villa, making your way to the balcony overlooking the private beach. She wants you to be happy and she thinks you need a boyfriend to be happy. But she’d found the love of her life in Rowan after only a few years of dating around and she doesn’t quite understand that it’s never going to work like that for you. There aren’t enough people out there that understand the kind of passion you have for your art and certainly not many that would also be compatible with you. You’re fine with that, but Chloe doesn’t know what to do with it. Especially not now she’s cottoned onto the fact that you have some kind of interest in Charles. It’s killing her.

It’s irrelevant though, whatever interest you have in Charles doesn’t factor into anything. He’s cute, he’s nice, but so were the dozen boys that you’ve already dated and not continued dating. So really, Chloe needs to stop pushing it because it’s pissing you off. You’re here for a holiday, not to be forced into conversations with a guy you don’t know. If she needs to have an argument to finally understand that, then so be it. You’ve been friends for years, it’ll blow over eventually.

You flick a switch and blinking lights illuminate the balcony. Fairy lights are wound up the posts and draped on the awning, intertwining with the lush green vines that have grown up through the wood slats. The air is balmy and the breeze light as you settle into one of two cushioned chairs situated by a coffee table. It’s perfect. You spread the oil pastels out next to your glass of wine and set your open notebook on your crossed legs, listening to the sound of waves lapping against the shore.

You’re alone for what feels like a long time but is probably only an hour or two.

When the sliding door clunks open you expect it to be Chloe coming over to have it out, but it’s not. Instead, Charles slips through the gap with the rest of the wine gripped in one hand.

“Hi,” he greets, smiling at you in a way that makes dimples carve in his cheeks, and dashing any hopes you have that he’d walk right past you.

“Hey,” you forget yourself for a moment and bite your lip on a broad smile.

He holds the bottle out toward you, offering more. You lean over your notebook and hold your empy wine glass up in acceptance.

“Merci,” you say, and in a moment of weakness (and probable wine drunk-ness) you gesture at the plush chair across from you.

Charles, somewhat caught off guard, looks between your outstretched hand, the chair, and your face, before shaking his head almost imperceptibly and finally taking a seat. Despite his apparent shock, you find it hard to believe he’d come out here simply to offer you some of the last of the wine. Surely, this is Chloe and Rowan’s doing. Though, strangely, you cant quite bring yourself to care.

He sets the bottle on the coffee table, next to your oil pastels. You lean forward to place a few back in their rightful spots, snagging your wine glass as you go.

Charles eyes’ scan your face for a moment, searching for something you suppose, then he points at your notebook, “Have you been drawing?”

You nod, “Mmm.”

You think perhaps the answer is a bit obvious. He seems to realise this, you watch a blush spread onto the top of his cheeks and he flutters his eyelids slightly, almost like rolling his eyes at himself. You don’t think about his eyelashes, thick and dark as they brush against his cheekbone, and you don’t think about his eyes, the lights reflecting off them, making them sparkle.

“What are you drawing then?” he asks after a moment of collecting himself, an edge of embarrassment to his voice.

You give in easily to the strange urge you have to show him, grabbing the notebook off your lap and holding it out for him to see what you’d been scribbling in the book for the past two hours. You let him take it off your hands, ignoring the spike of anxiety. He holds it gingerly, like it's a precious artefact (of course, to you, it is), which makes something warm bloom in your chest. You take a sip of wine and gesture for him to flip through a few pages, which he seems hesitant to do without permission. The book is angled in such a way that you can see most of the page, so you’re content to let him. Or at least you are until he flips to the page you’d started when you’d first come out here.

Panic drops like a stone in your gut because he’s looking right at a fully rendered drawing of his eyes. It’s in amongst some pillars strung with lights and covered in climbing vines; your best attempt at capturing the way the beach looked earlier in the day; and, perhaps your saving grace, Chloe half asleep on her towel. But the drawing of her is haphazard, it’s half-scribbled and half-finished, whereas the one of Charles eyes’ is as detailed as the sunset scene you’d done the page before. It had been something you just needed to get out, drawn in one of those hazes of yours. You’d felt better after it was done, your hands had stopped feeling like they were itchy.

Now, you itch to snatch the notebook off him, but you fear that would be even more incriminating. So you watch him look at the page and try to sit with the panicked feeling spreading in your chest.

Eventually, he points at the page, “Is this me?”

You bite your lip, breathing slowly through your nose to try and abate the blush spreading up your neck. You don’t say anything exactly, just shrug and rock your head back and forth in a kind of confirmation that doesn’t really admit anything. Though, there’s no denying the drawing is him.

“It’s good,” he says, seemingly stumbling over the words, “It’s very good.”

You frown into your drink, “Thank you.”

“I mean it.”

You know he means it. It’s not that.

“Yes,” you put down the wine glass, looking at him but avoiding eye contact, “I know. I know it’s good. I’m just… I’m embarrassed,” you admit.

He furrows his eyebrows– or it’s more that he squints and his eyebrows fold in with it. You watch his tongue dart out to run across the top of his bottom lip and you stamp down the less than innocent thoughts that come bubbling up at that. He waves the hand that’s not still holding carefully onto your notebook about for a moment, trying to conjure up words that he doesn’t have yet.

Slowly, he says, “You shouldn’t be embarrassed. I– It’s–”

He’s about to say flattering, so you cut him off, not wanting to hear the tone of it, whether it be pity or something else entirely.

You try to explain yourself, “Things get stuck in my head sometimes. Like after dinner,” you reach forward and flip the page back one, to the sunset, “I have to get it onto paper. Or… or… it just runs laps in my head for the rest of eternity, I guess. I don’t stop thinking about it.”

You cringe internally. You’ve just told him that you were so consumed by thoughts of his eyes that you had to draw them immediately. That is perhaps worse than just wanting to draw him because you thought he was cute. Charles raises his eyebrows, clearly surprised by your admission, but there’s perhaps also something sincere in there? You can’t pinpoint it, but it makes you feel a fraction better you think.

You sigh forlornly, “That’s weirder, huh?”

He laughs, properly laughs, and it sends some strange feeling skittering down your spine, “No. No, I get it. I don’t have any way to get it down as quickly as I’d like, but I definitely understand the feeling.”

You bite the inside of your lip, hesitant but still curious, “You understand the feeling? Really?”

“Yes,” he smiles easily now, relaxing more in the chair after he places your notebook onto the counter with a cautiousness you still don’t expect, “For me, with racing, it’s like I get an idea and I can’t sleep until I try it on track or talk about it with someone. Some of them don’t work, or aren’t possible, which is fine, but if it sounds right to me and it checks out with the people that it needs to, then, well, then it literally does run laps in my head.”

You laugh, mostly to yourself. You’re not sure yet if he understands what you’re saying, but he’s trying. That’s more than you can say for a lot of people. You try not to let that thought linger for too long.

“You think it’s similar?” you ask in a way you desperately hope comes across as curious and not accusatory.

He hums, waving his hand around again for words, “Perhaps. I think the urgency is the same. The passion is the same. Do you ever feel like something terrible will happen if you can’t–”

“Yes,” you’re a bit breathless in your haste to agree, to talk about this feeling with someone who understands, “Yes. I do. It’s like I need to put it somewhere before I lose it. Otherwise, it won’t be perfect, or it’ll be too late.”

“Exactly,” his eyes seem to light up, for a long second you watch the flickering lights reflect in them, “Exactly.”

“It’s never as good as I want it to be,” you admit, finding it easier to look him in the eye now that some strange barrier between you has been broken, “It’s never quite how I imagine it in my head.”

Charles points at your notebook, “These are very good, really. I don’t see how they could be better. But,” he shrugs, “Eh, I will win a race and still think of everything I did wrong.”

You nod eagerly in understanding as you lean back into the chair, finally relaxing into the cushions. It’s strange to have this conversation, knowing you’re talking about two entirely different careers, but feeling like they’re so similar. Maybe it’s just you and Charles that are similar, maybe your jobs have nothing to do with it? You don’t know, you just know it’s nice to feel like someone gets what you’re talking about.

Charles continues, speaking like he’ll explode if he doesn’t get this off his chest, “It’s there all the time, do you know what I mean? Maybe I’m not thinking about it every second, but it’s always there waiting for something to draw attention to it. And people ask what else is going on in my life, and of course I do other things, and I enjoy other things, but I want to be on the track. I want to be driving whenever I can.”

You nod again, more subdued now, “Mmm, right. I want to be making art all the time, and when I can’t it’s like missing a limb. To me art is– it– it’s like–”

“–breathing,” he finishes, almost the lilt of a question to it, but not really, it’s like he knows exactly what you mean… how you feel.

You exhale, long and slow, “Yeah. Like breathing.”

Both of you are quiet for a little after that. You’re trying not to stare at him, but it’s not easy. He’s looking at you almost blatantly and you can feel blood rushing to your cheeks the longer he stares. The air feels thick with some feeling you can’t place. All you know is there are butterflies in your stomach and a smile keeps pulling at the edge of your pursed lips.

The smile takes over as you catch him starry-eyed in your peripheral vision, you mutter, “Stop that. Stop looking at me.”

“Why?”

You tip your head back so you can’t see him looking at you, “Because.”

“Because?” he laughs breathily, shaking his head at you, “Okay, well, tell me if I’m misreading anything, but I’m pretty sure that drawing of me in your notebook says something, at least.”

You run a hand down your face, sighing loudly, “Yes, okay. I suppose it does. But– I–” for a moment you struggle for the right words to explain yourself, “I guess I’m not really looking to date anyone.”

He tilts his head to the side, furrowing his eyebrows and looking for all intents and purposes, like a confused puppy, “You guess?”

You nod, resisting the urge to just launch over the table and grab his face. He is very cute and he is making this so hard for you.

He sucks his teeth briefly, shrugging, “I’m not really either.”

“Alright,” you say, “Good.”

As over as that should make the issue, strangely enough it doesn’t feel like you’re done with Charles Leclerc and it certainly doesn’t feel like he’s done with you either.

(instagram)

@ynusername just posted…

liked by @charlesleclerc, @beabarouh and others

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Amalfi Coast, Italy

You try to avoid Charles after that, you really do, but he doesn’t quite let you.

For a few days of the holiday you give him pointed looks and purse your lips a lot when he’s around. Chloe catches on straight away and that makes it all infinitely worse until she finally realises she might need to leave you alone (yeah, shocker). When Chloe finally forces everyone to get off your back about Charles, it becomes much easier to be around him. You’re not glaring at your friends while they make eyes at you, or worrying if you’re acting weird; you’re just allowed to be.

It’s nice. He’s nice.

But you knew that already.

Neither of you are looking for a relationship so there’s no pressure for it to be anything at all. But you have this sneaking suspicion that perhaps both of you are looking for a relationship with eachother regardless. You try to ignore the thought.

On day five, you’re sitting together on an outcropping of rock that overlooks the ocean and you’re letting Charles doodle in your notebook with a ballpoint pen. The bare skin of both your arms are pressed together, they stick with sweat from the hot midday sun but neither of you seem to care. As you watch him doodle inexpertly you can smell him— salt and sweat and whatever cologne he uses masking the very faint scent of burning rubber. Your hair, still damp, brushes his forearm, you wonder if you smell of acrylic paint and mildew from all the water cups you accidentally leave out for your paintbrushes.

You reach out to trace a line he’d made, “Here, it should be more like…” you taper off, taking the pen from his hand and quickly fixing the curve of the beach before handing the utensil back.

“Hmm,” he hums, giggling a little, “I guess that looks better.”

“You guess?”

He nods, “What if I had a very specific vision?”

You raise an eyebrow in disbelief, leaning back to look him in the eye you tease, “A vision. Did you?”

He tilts his head down to look at you. You’re very close now, you can feel his breath fanning over your face. In the reflection of his sunglasses you watch your lips part slightly and your eyelids flutter. Your chest grows tight with anticipation and maybe a little bit of panic. Still, you reach out and slide his sunglasses up to settle in his hair. You’re a little careless, but you like the way his hair pokes out from them at odd angles. As he breathes out you hear it catch for a split second.

“Did you?” you repeat, knowing he won’t remember what you were talking about.

He blinks twice, still staring at you, “Hmm?”

“You said you had a vision,” you breathe.

“Oh,” as he says it, his eyes flicker down to your mouth, only for a second, but it’s long enough to you know you’re done for.

You both lean in at the same time, your noses sliding off each other in your eagerness. You breathe a kind of laugh into his mouth and you feel him try to suppress a smile against your lips. It’s slow for the first few seconds, just you and Charles figuring out how your mouths fit together. His mouth is warm and wet and so soft, and it’s easy to lose yourself in it. You move the hand that had adjusted his sunglasses, sliding it up his shoulder to the back of his muscled neck. Your fingers weave into the short hair at the base of it, your nails scratching absently there. He groans, ever so slightly into your mouth and it sends heat skittering down your spine, into the low of your gut.

The hand of his that isn’t clutching onto your notebook slips forward and winds around to press at your bare back. He pulls you closer to him as you slide your hand up to cup the back of his head, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Soon it’s a mess of tongue and teeth and Charles blindly shoving your notebook somewhere it wont slip into the water so he can grab you with both hands. He tastes like red wine and coffee and you love the way his fingers dig into your skin and the way his teeth have been grazing at your bottom lip, like he wants to sink into it.

You’re almost in his lap when you’re forced to pull away for air.

Foreheads pressed together, you breathe heavily into the space between you. Your hand is still stuck in his hair and one of his on the small of your back, the other holding your knee. The sides of your noses touch, you nudge yours against his affectionately, tempted by the proximity of his mouth.

He laughs and you feel it against your lips, intermingling with your own breath, “Alright. That was–”

“Yeah,” you finish, dipping forward to kiss him again.

You’re lost for another few minutes. Tongue and teeth and the sound of the waves crashing against the rock behind you. And his hand on your jaw and in your hair and pulling you closer closer to him.

He pulls away this time, turning his head to press your cheeks together, mouth at your ear, “So,” he drags the word out with a laugh, “are you looking for a relationship now?”

You snort unceremoniously, and tease, “Hmm. I guess I would be amenable to that.”

“You guess?” he asks— but not really needing to at all because you can feel his dimples pressing into your cheek as he smiles knowingly.

You nod, smiling too, “I guess.”

🎨 yes of course i made a playlist>> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6cAJaZjvK0V7SrmxoMosBX?si=ADlJGHxxQYKnlZ1jWFJxfw&pi=a-AI0MKbo3RTqE

taglist: (pls message if you'd like to be added to the taglist for charles. my yuck! one is full so need to start a new one😭)

[lorarri]

★ . . . 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 , 𝐉𝐁𝟓

summary , the daughter of lewis hamilton and a 3 time f1 world champion life is pretty great especially now that you have found a special someone

pairing , jude bellingham x fem! hamilton! redbull! f1 driver! reader

main masterlist | football masterlist

yourinstagram . 4hrs ago

seen by lewishamilton judebellingham 76,389,589 others

yourinstagram

liked by lewishamilton judebellingham 102,890,199 others

yourinstagram winter break photodump pt. 5

view comments

user my wife is a madrid...I don't know what to do with why self now

user stay away from my wifey mr. hey jude lookin ass

user MR BELLINGHAM WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

user it couple is cookin ya'll

user love that mother is living her best life

user bae wake up Y/N posted a winter break photo dump

user OKAY BUT THAT LAST PIC EXCUSE ME?!?!?!

user madam who got you those flowers

user jude better be careful or papa hamilton gonna have his head if he even thinks about trying anything with his daughter

user why am I kinda living from the idea of these two being a couple

user are you dating jude?

user Y/N come home the kids miss you

user 4th wdc pending...

user so we all know who the guy in the last slide is right?

user love my soon to be parents

user the queen soft launching wasn't on my 2024 bingo card

view more comments

TRENTSKI

JUDITH

EXPLAIN YOUR SELF

JUDITH

huh?

RICE RICE BABY

did you really think you could sneek your way into Y/N Hamilton's ig dump and we wouldn't find out?

JUDITH

yes?

SANCHOOOO

SO YOU ADMIT IT

IT IS YOU

MEEK MEALS

glad you finally got together

I was getting sick and tired of you talking about her 24/7

JACK RABBIT

I'm surprised he even got the strength to talk to her

STAR BOY

right?

his brain normally turns to mush when ever her name is mentioned

proud of you bro

JUDITH

thx kyo

I always knew you were a real one

TRENTSKI

damn I see how it is then....

RICE RICE BABY

trents going dark lads

in his sad girl era

PHIL CHEESE STAKE

so wait who knows about you 2 being together?

SANCHOOOO

besides the entire intent after that photo dump?

MEEK MEALS

LMFAOOO

STAR BOY

tell lewis he's the goat

JUDITH

hahah funny

let us have our damatic soft launch

obvi you guys know

the only others that know are max, sebastian, and charles

I'll let lewis know when he figures out I'm dating his daughter this Saturday

JACK RABBIT

mate your fucked

TRENTSKI

DAMN

secret forbbiden romance

didn't know you were built like that jude

MEEK MEALS

what do you mean Lewis fucking Hamilton doesn't know you are dating HIS DAUGHTER

SANCHOOOO

pray for jude guys

these might be his last days with us

STAR BOY

he shall be missed

JACK RABBIT

dw jude I'll delete your search history of you stalking Y/N's ig and twitter

JUDITH

thanks guys...

wiss me luck

TRENTSKI

break a leg

RICE RICE BABY

don't die

MEEK MEALS

good luck

SANCHOOOO

you going to die

STAR BOY

what colour coffin do you want?

I'm thinking bright pink and rinestones

JACK RABBIT

do you need a get away driver?

PHIL CHEESE STAKE

before you die get me and ronnie a hat singed by Y/N and Lewis

JUDITH

I feel so loved rn

yourinstagram . 4hrs ago

seen by lewishamilton maxverstappen1 98,328,479 others

lewishamilton replied to your story!

he's a good lad

but if he hurt's you

winning a trohpy will be the last of his concern

okay dad I'll relay that message to him

good

also don't forget to use projection...

DAD OMG STOP

carlossainz55 replied to your story!

¡HALA MADRID!

maxverstappen1 replied to your story!

Christian is asking if Jude wants to come to the team dinner before the livery launch?

also if he hurts you I will run him over with our matching aston martins

landonorris replied to your story!

what does he smell like?

[munsooooon]

Steve hates very much to be called "Steven" not even as a joke, he has not talked about it with anyone but implicitly everyone senses it in some way or another and therefore they do not call him that way, it is always Steve or Harrington or some nickname. That's because when his parents called him that it was because they were incredibly angry or drunk and therefore punished him in horrible ways, when they called him Steven he usually ended up getting beaten up. When they called him Steven in public it was enough to make him freeze and make him shiver, eventually he would be silent and terrified for the rest of the evening.

Now being older if someone calls him Steven, he immediately assumes they are fighting with him or that he did something wrong and depending on the situation or the person he will react with sadness or anger, for example, when Tommy called him Steven, it ended in a awful fist fight. It really makes him feel very bad, in recent years sadness is what he felt the most when he hears his name, because it hurts him too much to disappoint the people he loves.

Eddie doesn't know it, but he doesn't call him Steven either, it's always a nickname or Stevie, or Steve or even Harrington. Until one night, when they were in Steve's room kissing fiercely and passionately, Steve was under him doing whatever it took to feel Eddie rubbing his skin, between gasps and accelerated breaths, every little movement Eddie made or every little touch Steve felt, he reacted effusively with his whole body shuddering, he was and felt hypersensitive, he couldn't keep still.

"Steven" Eddie whispered with softness and a beautiful smile, Steve looked at him surprised. "Stay still, I need to take your clothes off, love"

Steve loved that. It was the first time someone pronounced his name with such love. He stood for a few seconds, processing what was happening. He began to shake in anticipation of what Eddie might give him. His brain was short-circuited, and all he could think of was Eddie calling him "Steven" with that authority and that beautiful softness that only he had. He felt loved.

"Are you okay? Do you want us to stop?"

Steve took a few seconds to appreciate him, ran his face gently, because the words wouldn't come out even though they were in his throat. He was always silent when he shouldn't be but he couldn't help it.

Eddie kissed the hand that was on his face, not intending to go any further, and Steve melted once again, he wanted to speak and express loudly the pleasure the other boy was making him feel but he couldn't. Instead, he took Eddie's hand and directed it to his pants to make him feel what he had provoked, to make him understand that he didn't want to stop.

"No, I don't want to stop" Steve said as he sat on Eddie's lap. "Call me Steven again, just you, just you Eddie, call me love, baby, tell me I'm your princess and never stop"

Steve was incredibly loud that night, moving his hips against Eddie's lap, trying to fuck himself harder, deeper. He spoke his name softly and lovingly, until he began to cry, begged for more as tears flooded his face. Eddie held him tight with his arms to keep him right where he wanted him but also to keep him safe to hold him as he released a weight he seemed to be carrying for years.

Eddie couldn't utter a word, it was unbelievable. Eddie was always loud and Steve was quieter, but in the dark, in the security of their love, Steve could be whatever he wanted and could act however he wanted, so he was being loud as he wished because in Eddie's arms no one could punish him.

"You're such a good boy, don't you?" Eddie says softly.

"Yeah?" Steve asks as he chases Eddie, he moans loudly as Eddie once again hits that place on his body, his mouth stays open as he moves on Eddie, soft sounds keep coming out of his mouth, he closes his eyes, because he can feel Eddie all over his body, even though he moves slowly.

"Yeah. You're so sweet, my baby boy, I can't even explain how much I love you, princess"

Steve smiles with his eyes closed. He looked precious, his cheeks were flushed, his lips red, and somehow the tears made him incredibly beautiful.

....

Steve still hates being called that, he finally confessed it to Eddie but also gave him permission to call him that on special occasions. Plus, he told him that he would love to tell his parents what he does with the traumas they caused him. Because now every time he's called Steven it's because he's loved, because he's revered and because he's being fucked incredibly well.

Steve get his name back, Steven belonged to him and Eddie.

[adriennebarnes]

Jealous

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Charles gets easily jealous when his girlfriend fawns over her fictional or celebrity crushes

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: all the characters and celebrities mentioned are people I find attractive. If you don’t have a crush on them, that’s fine, to each their own

Y/N and Charles were watching American Assassin because Charles wanted to watch an action movie and he has never seen it.

“Ugh, Dylan O’Brien could get it.” Y/N said and Charles turned so fast to look at her.

“What?” Charles asked.

“Dylan O’Brien could get it, he is so fine, I already thought he was cute as Stiles but as Mitch Rapp? Ooh, so fine, I’d let him choke me.” Y/N said, eating chips and Charles just looks at her. “What?”

“Were you always this unhinged?” Charles asked.

“A little, but have you seen his veiny arms when he was being held at gun point? I wanna bite them.” Y/N said and Charles looked at his arms and back at the screen.

“Mon ange, my arms are veiny, you could bite mine.” Charles said.

“I bite yours all the time when we’re not in public. There’s just something about Dylan O’Brien playing Mitch Rapp that does something for me. Like look at those abs.” Y/N said and Charles immediately retaliated with

“I have better abs than him!” Charles exclaimed, making a point by taking off his shirt and standing next to the TV to compare him and Dylan O’Brien

“Ay muñeco, Im teasing, don’t take it too seriously.” Y/N said, pulling him back to the bed and kissing him.

The next time Charles got “jealous” was when Y/N was on TikTok and she saw a video of The Drivers Era performing.

“Ross Lynch es tan guapo, no wonder when he performed in Mexico, todos le estaban diciendo que se encuere.” Y/N said and Charles was brushing his teeth in the bathroom. Charles poked his head out to see Y/N in bed. “What? Ross is 6’1, our height difference is literally perfect.”

“Are you trying to hurt me, Mon ange?” Charles asked before spitting into the sink.

“Of course not muñeco, he’s just a celebrity crush, it’s not like anything will happen.” Y/N commented.

Then it happened again when Charles and Y/N were out with Pierre and Kika. They saw a movie poster for the ministry of ungentlemany warfare.

“We should see this movie, the trailer looks amazing.” Kika said.

“And so does Henry Cavill, I love how curly his hair is.” Y/N commented.

“Just once I would like to go out and not listen to you talk about other men.” Charles said.

“Whats happening there?” Pierre asked

“Charles gets butthurt when I talk about my celebrity crushes.” Y/N said.

“What do they have that I don’t?” Charles asked.

“Well Ross and Henry are 6 feet tall, Ross plays hockey and I LOVE hockey boys, Henry played field hockey, but you’re taller than Dylan O’Brien, I’ll give you that.” Y/N said and Charles stared at her.

“You weren’t supposed to give me a list!” Charles exclaimed while laughing at how ridiculous this conversation was.

“You literally asked!” Y/N exclaimed. “But I also want to see the movie for Eiza Gonzalez, totally support her making it big in Hollywood.”

“Yes! Loved her in Baby Driver!” Kika said and her and Y/N started talking about movies.

Y/N was watching Supernatural and eating ice cream.

“God I love this episode, he looks so good.” Y/N said. Charles looked at the screen and back at her.

“Really? The Winchester brothers in prison? Isn’t the guy who plays Dean like 50?” Charles asked.

“Um, he’s 46, and he looks good for his age considering he’s white.” Y/N said.

“Cant believe you love Dean Winchester. Why not Sam?” Charles asked.

“I love both Winchester brothers, I just relate to Dean more. And in the later seasons, I don’t like Sam’s hair. But Sam’s hair in season 1 and 2? LOVE.” Y/N said.

“What about my hair?” Charles asked.

“Muñeco, you know how much I love to pull on it when we’re kissing and other stuff.” Y/N says, kissing Charles, running her hands through his hair to make a point, he pulled away.

“Mm, I love when you do that.” Charles said smiling.

“I know you do.” Y/N said, continuing to play with his hair. “There’s no reason to be jealous of my celebrity crushes, okay?“

“I’m not convinced, how about you show me that you’re mine and mine alone.” Charles said, hand wrapped around Y/N’s throat, not applying pressure.

“It would be my pleasure.” Y/N said, holding Charles’s hand to run to their bedroom.

The End

Hope y’all like it!

[dumbbitchgalore]

tf141 hanging out together and finding out that old man!Price has a girlfriend 💫

The crowded pub bustles with the commontion of drunkards of varying degrees. Some slightly tipsy while others have decided to forgo their pants in the name of the King.

And then there's a group of men occupying a table at the corner of the pub. Simon with his balaclava on, Kyle with a cigarette between his fingers savouring the arcid flavour and Johnny ogling some girls on the other side of the pub.

All that was left was John, who makes his way to the table with four pints of beer. He sits down at the table with a grunt as he passes each on of the boys a glass. They all start chatting and catching up about everything's thats happened after Price's retirement.

Johnny begins to bitch and whine about the new captain saying how uptight he was critising everything the squad does that John would've probably turned a blind eye to.

John chuckles slightly, listening to them all talk about what's is going on with the taskforce. Despite the smile on his face, there is a bitter resentment inside of him, gnawing at him.

Useless, useless, useless

He takes a swig of his drink hoping that it'll calm his worries down. And lo and behold he receives a call from you, his baby. He smiles to himself and picks up the phone.

"Hey birdie, doing okay by yourself at home?" He asks softly.

That one sentence caught the attention of the other boys as they give each other quizzical looks. Who the hell could their former captain be talking to?

His mother, maybe his sisters? Nah, he wouldn't call any other birdie.

They listen to John's gravelly voice and breathy laughs as he talks to the mystery person on the phone.

What felt like hours to the boys and a few fleeting seconds for John, he hangs up and faces the group. He raises an eyebrow when he sees their faces contorted into expressions of confusion and curiosity.

"What?" John asks slightly defensively

"Who's the birdie, Captain?" Johnny asks with a tooth grin.

John shakes his head, "my girlfriend." he says in a matter-of-fact tone.

Their jaws drop to the floor. Shocked would be an understatement as to what they were feeling and thinking right now.

"You sure it's not schizophrenia, sir?" Kyle asks.

John huffs in annoyance. What the hell? Couldn't they just accept that John finally had someone in his life. A perfect little doll who patiently waits for him at home.

They all start to laugh obnoxiously, barking and howling as if they were witnessing a circus show. And John's irritation grew tenfold and he huffs a sigh of annoyance.

"Oi captain, why don't you show us a picture of your birdie and then maybe we'll believe ya. Or well just keep thinking that the sarin gas is still in your system." Simon says, followed by a cackle.

John rolls his eyes and opens his photo gallery and shows the trio a photo of you and him. The picture is of the two of you in bed, with you resting your head on his shoulder with a smile on your face as John is still fast asleep. Evidence of the previous night's lustful tendancies still apparent on both of them.

This time their jaws drop for certain as the tangible evidence is placed in front of them. You're beautiful, and that fucked-out, post orgasm face is something else. This isn't fair. How did Price get blessed with a beauty such as yourself.

Soap scowls and scoffs looking away and crossing his arms in annoyance. While Kyle gushes about how lucky Price his to hide his jealously rearing its ugly head. And simon simply stares at the photo with a discerning expression on his face.

John smiply smiles, his ego fuelled and his pride sky high.

"Well boys, I gotta get back to my doll. Maybe next time I'll bring her along." He exits the pub, leaving the boys all confused and jealous.

[luxeslore]

husband & wife | simon riley

word count -> 2k

content + warnings -> 18+ CONTENT, MDNI. REGENCY ERA / ARRANGED MARRIAGE!AU, f!reader, angsty (hurt + comfort), societal pressures, talk of having babies + mentions of motherhood, suggestive but no smut.

notes from yours truly — huge thank you to my friend for giving this a read for me! bridgerton / the queen charlotte series has officially made me lose it. on that note, please enjoy viscount riley and his precious wife in all their glory.

Six months. That’s how long you’ve been cooped up in the Riley estate— you’ve been keeping track with the help of your lovely maids. 

The majority of your time is spent in the library. You wake up after Simon has already started his duties for the day, have your breakfast, and then bury your nose in romance novels. Simon has told you to put them down several times, not wanting you to fill your head up with schemes and fairytales. To which you promptly roll your eyes once he’s out of the room. 

It’s not your fault there’s a surprisingly fair amount of them on the shelves; you assume his mother enjoyed them in her time.

There’s little you truly know about the Riley family for someone who’s living in their home. Aside from the common knowledge that Simon’s father was a cruel man. A man that single handedly ruined the reputation of his wife and children through debt, spirits, and an overall cruel disposition. Up until Simon became old enough to truly cease his title of Viscount after his father’s death, they understandably remained in the shadows and out of the ton’s line of sight. 

Your chest had always ached for them whenever something vile was spread around town. Having the same status but a completely different upbringing, you couldn’t even begin to imagine what they went through, especially when society can already be so cruel. 

Sometimes you imagine Simon as a boy. Completely different from the man you married. With full cheeks, surely no sprouts of gray hair hidden in the blonde shag on his head. All of those sweet and innocent qualities you’ve seen in their family portraits. If you had known each other growing up you would have offered him companionship in a heartbeat. 

You can’t help but wonder what your own children will look like… If you and him ever get that far in your marriage. You don’t believe Simon wants children, and you’re not so sure if you can blame him for that. However that isn’t enough reasoning to bat the feeling that’s bubbling in you away. You want a baby. Terribly so, given it’s all you’ve been looking forward to since the idea of marriage and having your own family popped into your pretty head. 

Perhaps bringing a child into an affectionless union would be cruel on your part, but you’d be less lonely. Your heart would be abundantly full hearing little giggles, or the pitter patter of small feet running down the grand hallways to find you. To even just see a piece of you and Simon together that isn’t as forced as your marriage was, but made out of love instead. 

You sniffle once, without even realizing there’s a tear rolling down your cheek. Used to the feeling, you suppose. You toss your book to the side, adding it on to your growing pile before uncurling yourself and getting up from the reading nook. The sky is a deep navy, the stars dazzle through the windows as the moon glows along with them— it’s late, you conclude whilst blowing out the candles in the library.

The bedroom is empty when you arrive. There’s only a few traces of Simon here and there; he spends most of his time in his study. You find yourself getting ready for bed all alone again, with no lover to crawl under the linens with and tuck into. 

You’re having a peaceful morning. You’ve opened the windows in the drawing room, allowing some fresh air in while you enjoy your tea and a slice of pound cake. A breakfast on the sweeter side to lighten your recent mood. You drop a sugar cube into your tea, swishing a small spoon around in your cup until it dissolves.

There’s a bundle of letters from back home. Absolutely one from your mother, asking if you’re with child. And if not now, then when. It’s always snuck in there— you puff your cheeks out in what feels like defeat, ready to ask your maid to fetch your quill as you undo the twine binding them all together. 

However before you can open your mouth, you hear Simon. You’ve gotten used to how the floorboards creak here and there under his steps, yet your heart still jumps. Lord Riley isn’t necessarily a morning person, or sociable with anyone in the early hours. His voice is grumbly, “Good morning, my lady.” 

“Good morning, my lord.” You don’t look up from the letter in your hand. 

A few moments pass. He pours himself some tea, paces around the room a bit ungracefully, and then finally sits across from you in the opposite chair— “Are you feelin’ alright?” 

Your eyebrows furrow, yet you finally grace him with your gaze. “What makes you ask, my lord?” 

“Well,” he pauses, “you’ve been quiet as of late.” 

You simper, “You’d rather have me gabber on to you over nothing all day?” 

Simon laughs, although he appears to be struggling. He’s never been a conversationalist and that has been apparent from day one, but there’s a difference between his inherent awkwardness and the way you make him awfully nervous. If he had to explain, the way he finds himself undeserving of having a living angel from the Heavens under the same roof as him, let alone sleeping in the same bed every night.

While he seems to be lost in his own head, you take in the state of him— the bags under his eyes from being up far past midnight, scars on his chest peeking out due to the undone buttons of his blouse. You’re aware that you're staring, but you’re married after all. And your fingers twitch, eager to glide through his somewhat disheveled hair and provide any kind of comfort he’d allow you to. 

He’s handsome. More delectable than he knows. If you two were an actual love match you’re sure you’d be properly smitten. Swooning left and right knowing such a man is yours alone to share the kind of honeyed kisses and naughty whispers you read about with. You snap out of it quickly, refusing to upset yourself. 

“Not quite,” he mutters just loud enough for you to hear. You’d forgotten you asked him something in the first place. You’ve nearly forgotten how to breathe at this point, too. He continues on as he gets up from his seat “Wait for me tonight.” 

He takes a step closer, and you’re not expecting him to place a large hand on either armrest of your chair, leaning over you with warmth in his amber irises. You naturally shy away, being unfamiliar with this kind of attention from anyone… not to mention him. You clear your throat and shuffle in your seat upon realizing how warm you feel all of the sudden. 

“You mean,” you begin at the risk of sounding daft, “In our chambers, correct?”

He jests, “Unless you’ve other plans.” 

“No,” You breathe out, “I’ll wait for you, Simon.” 

His eyes widen at your use of his name. Not a title but his given name, something that’s meant to be spoken by you only but rarely comes out. Your husband nods once, bidding you a good day as if you won’t spend the rest of your time twiddling your thumbs and waiting for nightfall. 

Looking back on it, the earlier months of your marriage were bleak. 

Simon insisted on sleeping in different rooms. You only saw him for your shared meals and balls you were obligated to attend. You had no choice but to nod along and listen to him. To smile and pretend when other ladies and wives attempted to pull details about your love life out of you. No matter how deep they tried to dig, it was futile. 

You were alright with this arrangement at first, despite how hard you cried some days. 

It’s only that the nights got colder and darker, so much so that you found yourself tiptoeing to his room one night. Kicking yourself for failing to keep your facade together. There were tears pooling at your lashes as you hesitantly knocked on the aged wood making up his door. And while half asleep, Simon took you in when you least expected him to. You don’t know that in the moment, it dawned on him that he can’t deny such a sweet girl like you a single thing, but you do know something changed. 

That’s all you can think of as you smooth your hands down your nightgown. 

You eye yourself in the mirror while the silence in the room takes over. You relieved your maids of their duties only moments ago, realizing you couldn’t keep them there all night and awaiting Simon with you. You wish you had any kind of company now. Someone simply sitting in the corner while you fidget about would be enough.

Until you hear the door open. Your ears perk up; you consider nose diving onto the bed and pretending to be asleep before Simon fully enters the room. Yet you hold yourself up with pride and the little energy you have left, looking over your shoulder as he saunters in. 

“I know our union hasn’t been… satisfactory, given the circumstances,” his voice shakes despite how sturdy and resolute he is day in and day out, “I know there are certain things I cannot give you at the moment. However, I—” 

You whip around. Unable to hear him prattle on about things you’re already aware of. If this is what he had you waiting for, you would have much rather forced yourself to go to sleep at this hour. 

“My lord, this is unnecessary.” You’re blunter than he ever could have expected you to be, “I was raised to be a good wife no matter what the circumstances may be, and an even better mother whether I’m blessed with children or not. There’s no use for your theatrics unless they’re leading us somewhere.” 

“My theatrics?” Simon scoffs, now carrying his usual strong conviction. He wraps a large hand around your wrist, but there’s nothing threatening about his grip while he tugs you closer to him, refusing to let you petulantly stomp away. “I believe you’re confused, darling. I don’t waste my breath babblin’ words that aren’t sincere.” 

For the second time today, his body is close to your own. But never close enough to give you what you need. 

“Right, although what you’ve been missing all these months is… I want you to show me instead of telling, Simon.” You whisper, your pleading eyes meeting his own, “Show me that we can both be satisfied in our marriage… please.” 

Simon wraps an arm around you in an instant. Your chest is pressed to his, and his size compared to your own forces you to feel helpless in a new way entirely. He builds up the courage to kiss you. It’s nothing like the chaste pecks he places on your forehead in the morning. His hot mouth presses against yours until your lips part with a gasp and he’s able to roll his tongue into your mouth. You melt into him, desperately clawing at him for more. 

You whimper his name, puffy breaths escaping you with the rise and fall of your chest. Simon bends down, only to grab you up and lift you. You’re tossed onto your shared bed. The grin that tugs at your lips is cheeky to say the very least and Simon looks gorgeous when he matches your expression, already trying to get your gown out of the way by bunching the cotton up. His lips trail along your jaw, down your neck, along your chest. His nose drags over where your cleavage begins and peeks out, and you tremble beneath him. 

“I’ll show you,” he nearly moans, “I’ll show you what it means to be husband ‘n wife.” 

Simon may not give you a baby tonight… and your marriage may not be as bountiful as the gardens outside or as sweet as the marzipan he keeps in the kitchen for you to snack on right now. But he’s determined to change that. To be a better man— a giving husband and a tender lover, healing you and himself by extension. Starting with worshiping every inch of your soft skin that he's been depriving himself of, and you’re blissfully content with that. 

OTHER PARTS:

earl price

duke garrick

baron mactavish

©LUXESLORE 2024 — 18+ CONTENT, MDNI ♥︎ copying, modifying or reposting my work is not permitted.

[star-suh]

Wet Dreams

Kim Mingyu x Male Reader

cw: sub top himbo (attempt) mingyu, established relationship, somnophilia, pet names, restraints, unprotected sex, blowjob, musk kink, tummy bulge, breeding and facial, dumbification, implied second round.

—

mingyu was a heavy sleeper, there could be a tornado right outside his house and he wouldn't open an eye. he is also one of those big muscular dumb guys something that make him cute to some people but for others (yn) it made him even hotter. after some time of knowing each other and watching how their connection grew stronger by the days they decided to be a couple.

one night yn confesses something to mingyu, “you see, i wish we could go for a second round but you always fall asleep” he pouts. “aww baby i'm sorry” the tall apologizes “it's just that being with you makes me feel so good that i want to give you all the pleasure”, he kisses his forehead and taps his chin as if he was thinking about something.

“next time even if i fall asleep you can keep doing it with me, if you manage to keep it hard”...

one morning yn woke up for no reason and he hates that, it was 6:30 am, and when yn wakes up he hardly can go back to sleep. looking for ways to entertain himself at such early hours something under the sheets caught his eyes. mingyu's big dick standing in all his glory forming a tent with the white sheet “wood morning to me” murmured yn.

he quickly went to his closet and from a drawer he takes out a pair of red ropes that he uses to tie every limb from mingyu to each corner of the bed. the big dumb guy barely moves, it's like he doesn't feel the burning sensation of the ropes around his limbs. yn positioned himself in between his legs and started to smell the other’s dick and balls “such a manly musk”. his tongue went up and down on each side of that fat meat, making sure to leave it as wet as possible. slowly he tried to deepthroat him, relaxing his throat so he can swallow more and more each time. he finally reach the base of the shaft but quickly pulls out feeling his gag reflexes kicking in “this is so good” he slaps the saliva-smeared cock in his face leaving some of it on his face. “naughty boy who knows what you're dreaming about that is making you this hard, damn!” the bottom exclaimed, feeling it throbbing in his hand.

“hngh” mingyu moaned, yn stopped thinking he woke up but he didn't. he supposed it was just a reflex of how good he was feeling right now.

he aligned the already lubed tip right under his hole and slowly sat down on it, feeling how that thick dick stretched his walls. he was just halfway through and yn was already a moaning mess, that's how good mingyu's dick felt. when he bottomed out he waited some minutes to start moving. up and down with gentle hip movements so mingyu doesn't wake up, he was also being careful to not squeeze that hard.

“shit mingyu, i love your dick so much” unconsciously yn sped up his movements, just chasing his pleasure, “my fucking god, i want more of you… fucking ruin me” drool dripped down his chin, his hooded eyes trying to focus on something but failing at doing it. he bounces more and more fast, not caring anymore if mingyu wakes up he just wants that cum deep inside his bulging tummy “fill me up baby”.

mingyu felt some heavy weight on his crotch area so he opened his eyes, he blinked a few times to focus and see what was happening, it was yn's back and he kept staring at it while moaning and grunting, “yn?” he asks and the other stopped his movements, “yes?” he replies with some shyness laced in his voice. “what are you doing?” the top asks. yn bit his lip *looks like he woke up but his brain didn't* he thought and resumed his riding. after what feels like a long time mingyu realized that yn was fucking himself on his dick, he watched how that hungry hole swallowed all his inches, the sight made him hornier and yn knew that because he felt the cock growing and throbbing inside him. mingyu tried to meet yn's thrusts with his, the wet skin slapping sound echoing in all the room. yn laid back on top of mingyu moving his hips to massage that thick meat inside him “i fucking love you gyuuu~” yn was already gone, too cockdrunked to think straight. yn lift himself up with his arms so he can sit harder on the cock and also see better everytime mingyu's dick makes the bulge on his lower tummy when he goes deep. yn turns so he's now facing his boyfriend, riding even harder chasing that pleasant feeling. cumming hands free seconds later, squirting the cum all over his face.

yn freed mingyu from the restraints on his hands so he can take the lead in the fucking, “fucking fill me up” moaned the bottom loudly, desperation in his voice. “yes baby it's coming” mingyu reassures him by groping hardly his ass leaving his handprints in both cheeks. mincoc's cock is throbbing inside the other, spurting all the cum stored in his balls deep inside his boyfriend who clenches his hole as hard as he can to milk every single drop out of mingyu.

after they both rode his high mingyu freed himself from his legs restraints while yn just sits in the bed with his legs open fingering his hole “i think i need something more bigger and thicker than my fingers to keep all this cum inside me” his face tinted in red, hooded eyes, his hair sticked on his forehead for the sweat and drool coming out of his mouth.. “you looked so fucked up” mingyu comments while accomodating his tip on yn's entrance.

[dilucs-princess]

What they like to be called and call you during sex

Pairing: Geto, Gojo, Toji, Choso and Nanami x fem!reader (all seperate)

Warning: dom and sub JJK men, titles (so many and stated at the beginning of each HC), teacher/student roleplay in Gojo's dom part

reblogs > likes

Suguru Geto (dom)

He loves to be called master. Loves how desperately you squirm and cry as he pounds into you, holding your arms above your head as he looks down at you with a smirk. But the icing on the cake is where you are just able to get out a weak "ma-master please, slow down!" He just laughs, cupping your cheek gently "Oh, my love... Mmm, but you feel so heavenly! How could I slow down? Well, maybe if you beg master, I might think about it, or I might even let you cum.."

Suguru Geto (sub)

On the very rare cases he lets you take control, he'll whisper a soft "m-ma'am..." Every time you drop yourself down on him. His back arches so beautifully and he cries out so prettily as you ride him. You can only smile down at him, squeezing his cheeks together. "Oh, don't tell me you've had enough, Sugu~". He knew this was payback but oh god, you really would ruin him.

Satoru Gojo (Dom)

He can't deny that he loves it when you call him sensei/teacher. It fuels something in him when you act like a stupid and naive school girl when he knows you're far from it. Pouting as you look at your newest test scores, bending over Gojo's desk, a soft "Sensei.. I answered everything correctly! Why is it so low?" He couldn't help but groan at the sight of you, tapping his knee. "C'mere, babygirl. Maybe you can get extra credit, hm?"

Satoru Gojo (sub)

He is completely head over heels for you, so it's no surprise he loves to call you goddess. Desperately kissing across your skin and grabbing anywhere he could, a whimper when you kick him away as if he were a dog. A small beg of "My goddess, please, I've been such a good boy, haven't I?" So desperate to touch you again, but he waits for permission <3

Toji Zen'in (Dom)

I don't think anyone is shocked, but he loves it when you call him daddy. He gets so possessive and forces your legs to your shoulders, fucking into you so fast. It's messy, it's about claiming you more than anything else. "Fuck, c'mon baby, say it again, say it again for me, yeah?" You choked back a moan, eyes rolling back as you felt your nth orgasm wash over you, a desperate plea of "daddy!" as you cum, his laugh sounding so distant.

Toji Zen'in (sub)

I think Toji would sub a lot more than others would think. Clinging onto you, whimpering a quiet "my lady.." You just smiled gently as you pushed into him, revelling in his moans and gasps. "Sh... sh, there's a good boy." You smiled lightly as another gasp left him, a desperate "My lady, please, faster, need you so bad.." You smiled, and who were you to deny him?

Choso Kamo (dom)

He adores it when you call him "my prince." He's not the best at being a dom, but call him that and it gets him going. Forcing you to your knees as he looks down at you, a small whine when you say, "My prince, please, I always follow your orders, please let me have this reward!" You pleaded before he grabs your hair, immediately shoving his dick down your throat.

Choso Kamo (sub)

He adores calling you mommy. It's the security it brings too, loves to sit on your lap as you gently stroke his cock, whimpering so desperately as he mumbles quiet pleas of "Mommy, please, I'm so, so close! Mommy, can I cum? Pretty please?" He whined, staring up at you, so desperate. You chuckled lightly and nodded, loving his gentle moans that left his lips.

Nanami Kento (dom)

He adores hearing you call him sir. He loves fingering you as you squirm on his lap, doing work so casually. Loves hearing you whimper or whine, begs of "sir!" As his skilled fingers work you open in preparation for his cock, fingers hitting that perfect spot in you, fluids leaking out of you continuously. "Sir, I need you to fuck me, please..." He just smiled, ignoring your whines and begs.

Nanami Kento (sub)

Similarly, he likes to call you mistress when you're in control. It makes him feel like he is completely at your mercy (he is). Staring up at you desperately as his body shakes from the continuous teases to his cock. "Mistress, c'mon. I need you," he murmured sweetly as you finished tying his wrists to the headboard. You hummed as you sat on the bed, a soft "no." Relishing in his defeated cries.

[lewisvinga]

sneaky link | jude bellingham x sainz! reader

summary; y/n knew it wasn’t the best idea to sneak jude in while her family was out at dinner. but she couldn’t help but risk it despite her overprotective brother

warnings; cursing

word count; 956

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03 @c-losur3 @fall-bambi

note; before you all ask no i’m not okay w the kroos news

masterlist !

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“Oh shit,” Y/n mumbled as she heard multiple cars pull up into her driveway. She quickly gets up from Jude’s lap and looks out her bedroom window. She mentally curses when she sees the cars of her parents, brother, and sister in the driveway.

“What happened?” He asked curiously, lifting his head from her pillow.

She picked up his white t-shirt and zip-up hoodie from her makeup chair and chucked it at him. “My family came back earlier than expected. Hurry! Put your clothes back on!”

A laugh escaped from his lips as he sat up on her bed. He sets his phone down and catches his clothes. “You weren’t complainin’ 5 minutes ago when you were on my lap and-“

“Yes you’re very hot and as much as I appreciate you shirtless,” Y/n huffed, watching her brother shut the door to his Ferrari. “My brother wouldn’t.”

“I swear he’ll like me.”

“Just because you play for Real Madrid doesn’t guarantee that Carlos won’t go all crazy big brother on you.”

“Yeah but-“

“Y/n!” Her mother’s voice called out for her from the bottom of the stairs. “We came early and brought back dessert. Come down to the backyard!”

Y/n and Jude shared the same wide-eyed look. Whenever he visited especially late at night, the backyard patio was where he usually snuck out since there were cameras in the front door. With her whole family outside, it would be more difficult to get him out.

She hears the back door open and close, meaning they’re all outside. “You can get out from the side-“ She turned back to face her boyfriend and noticed he was still shirtless. “Stop distracting me!”

Jude couldn’t hold back his laugh from her panicked face. She glared at him as he wiped the tears from his eyes, taking deep breaths to try to stop laughing. “Okay, okay, fine! I’m sorry.” He said in between laughs, putting on his white shirt.

“I don’t know why you’re so worried though. I’ve met your mom already.”

Y/n sighed and grabbed her ugg slippers. “My mom. You’ve met my mom. Not my brother or dad.” She mumbled in reply. She remembered the time she brought a boy home when she was 15. Boy did her brother scare him away. Ever since then, she swore she wouldn’t bring a guy around Carlos not until she knew he was ready to see his baby sister be an adult.

“He can’t be that bad.”

She gave him a glare and he raised his hands up in defense. She grabbed his hand as she slowly opened her bedroom door. She looks down the lengthy halls before quietly and carefully dragging him towards the staircase.

“Now, keep quiet because I don’t need Carlos seeing you,” Y/n whispers to Jude who nods in response. They made it to the bottom of the staircase and were about to rush towards the side doors when a familiar voice stopped them.

“Don’t need me seeing who?”

The couple froze in their spots, both too scared to turn around. She felt her heart stop for a second when Carlos cleared his throat again. “Y/n.” His voice was stern.

She gulped and slowly turned around. She stood in front of Jude but that did little due to his height. She was met with her brother's stern gaze. His jaw was clenched, clearly unhappy at the sight of his baby sister with a boy.

Carlos knew who Jude was. Being a Madridista since birth meant he knew every player, especially one who helped them win the league. The Ferrari driver was a fan of the English player, at least he was until he saw him standing behind Y/n.

“He was just leaving-“

“Why is he here?”

“Hello, Jude, nice to meet you,” Jude said with a smile. He held his hand out but Y/n immediately slapped it down. “What? I’m trying to be nice!”

She glanced back at her brother and took a step closer to him. “Por favor, Carlos. No hagas de esto un gran problema.” [please, carlos. don’t make this a big problem] She quietly said. “Has hablado bien de él. No cambies tu opinión ahora solo porque el es mi novio [you’ve talked good things about him. don’t change your opinion now just because he’s my boyfriend]

Her eyes were wide and her eyebrows were furrowed up, showing how much she wanted her brother to be calm about her relationship. Jude was confused as he stared at the Sainz siblings. He only knew so much Spanish and certainly not to the extent of understanding all of what his girlfriend said.

Carlos lets out a deep sigh as he gently pats her arm. “Vale.” [okay] He says after thinking for a few seconds. “So what, is he your sneaky link?”

His words caused Y/n to gasp as the English player bursted into laughter once again. “Carlos! I just said he’s my boyfriend!” She exclaimed, ignoring the feeling of her face burning up as her boyfriend balanced himself on her and tried to stop laughing.

“Why’re you sneaking him out?”

“Because of you!”

Jude takes a deep breath before standing back up straight. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout sneaking behind your back. It did kinda seem like I was her sneaky link.” He said with a smile, gently poking her cheek.

Carlos gave him a glare which made the Real Madrid’s player smile fall. The Ferrari driver immediately smiled before pulling him into a side hug. “Oye, no more sneaking around with my sister. You’re an amazing player on the pitch and just because you’ve saved us many times doesn’t mean I’ll be easy on you for dating my sister.”

“Got it, no more sneaky link meet-ups.”

“Jude!”

[aothotties]

Telling Choso you want a baby

Word count: 1635

Warnings: MDNI, best friend!Choso, fluff, smut, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of kids, swearing, riding, overstimulation, creampie, the ending is so cute to me.

~~~~~~

You and your best friend are currently lying in his bed while watching random videos as they come and go. You stumble upon a video of a mom showing flashbacks of her body during pregnancy and you can’t help but pout.

“What's wrong?” He mumbles and yawns for a few seconds, followed by a stretch after he throws his phone to the side.

“It’s nothing, I’m just being a sap.” You show him the video on your phone and he shrugs in return.

“Yeah, cute kid I guess. Mom’s got a nice body though.” He rests his chin on your shoulder and you roll your eyes.

“Of course, that’s all you notice, you’re such a man.” You scroll to another video and double tap the screen.

He shakes his head at your reaction and takes the phone from your hand so he can scroll through your feed himself.

“So you’re on some baby kick, huh?” You shrug in return and pull your legs up to your chest.

“I don’t know maybe, I think I want a baby, Cho.” You confess and he nearly drops the phone on his face at the confession.

“Where in the hell did that come from?” He sits up in bed and gives you his full attention.

You shy away from the question and cover your face with your hands in embarrassment. Choso finds it adorable at how flustered you become over the simple question.

“I’m not sure, I’ve wanted a baby for a while now. You know I’ve always wanted to be a mother. I just could never find the right guy to settle down with.” You explain to him and he listens to every word you say.

“I’ll have a baby with you.” He says nonchalantly and you look at him as if you’ve seen a ghost.

“Excuse me?! Cho, are you high or something?” You scan over his face for a sign of his words being a joke, but there isn’t one.

“Well for starters, I’m typically always high, you know that. And yeah, why not? You want a baby, I don’t hate the thought of having kids either. You don’t think we’d make cute babies? He pretends to be offended and you slap his shoulder.

You don’t hate the idea of having a baby with him. No, you guys aren’t together, but you’ve been friends for more than 10 years. You two have had sex in the past, so it’s not like you haven’t seen each other naked. And you won’t deny the fact that he is quite handsome.

“If you’re as serious about this as you seem…then I guess we can have a baby together.” You give him your final answer and he gives you a gentle smile.

“But if we’re going to do this then we have a bunch of things to figure out first. Are we gonna live together and-“ Your sentence is cut off by the feeling of soft lips against your own.

He pulls you into his lap quickly and reaches for the buttons on your shirt, quickly trying to pull it off. He slides his tongue in your mouth and you happily invite him in.

Your shirt is thrown to the corner of the room and your leggings soon follow after.

“You wanna make a baby, don’t you? You can’t talk and make a baby. Well, you shouldn’t be able to at least.”

And boy was he right, Choso currently has you riding his sensitive cock after god knows how long. Your thighs shake in sensitivity and you let out another whimper as he bottoms out inside of you.

“C-Cho, my legs are burning.” You pout and huff as you struggle to continue bouncing on top of him.

Choso ignores your cries for help and hisses as another orgasm is ripped from his body and he stuffs your poor cunt with more of his cum. You throw your head back at the feeling of him fucking it back inside of you.

“ ‘m sorry mama, j-just wanna make sure you get all of it. Let me help you baby.” He sits up against the headboard and takes hold of your hips.

“Fuck!” You scream and grab the headboard when his hips piston upwards and his angry red tip fucks into your sweet spot.

“Shit, shit! Feels so good, so tight and warm.” Choso’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your wet, gummy walls bringing him to the brink yet again.

“C-coming! I’m gonna come, Cho!” He holds your hips in place and continues his assault on your poor g-spot.

You can’t control your orgasm and how quickly it hits you. You dig your nails into the skin of his shoulder as your left shaking from overstimulation.

The man below you watches in awe as your body convulses on top of his exhausted one. At this moment, Choso has never seen you look more beautiful.

Your thick lips are red and messy from all the kissing and drooling, his eyes trail down your body, and the way your breasts move up and down with each bounce. His eyes land on where you’re both connected and he can’t help but rub your neglected clit with his thumb.

You shake your head and attempt to swat his hand away, quickly losing that battle when he pulls you down for another messy kiss. You whimper against his lips when he flips both of you over.

He lifts your legs and rests your calves on his shoulder. He slides back into you at a teasingly slow pace and you grip the sheets in pleasure. The dark-haired man lets out a moan at the way your walls continuously suck him in each time.

He plants a small kiss on your ankle before his hips go from slow and steady to hard and fast.

“Oh shit!” You gasp as you grip the sheets, pleasure courses through your body at the feeling of the new angle.

The sound of skin slapping can be heard throughout the room and probably through the walls if you listen close enough.

“I’m so close baby, so fucking close.” He warns, his hips begin to lose their rhythm as his climax builds within him.

“C-cum inside me Cho. I want it so bad please!” You beg, tears build up in your eyes as another orgasm pools in your lower belly.

“Y-yeah baby? Want me to fill you up real good?” He leans down so his forehead is only inches from yours and you nod shyly.

He smirks at your lack of words and presses his lips to yours one last time before overfiowing your insides with his warm speed. You moan into his mouth and drag your nails down his arms in ecstasy as you come one last time.

Your body finally relaxes after one last thrust of his hips.

“You okay princess?” He runs his fingers through his raven locks and you nod with your eyes closed, the need for sleep is growing stronger by the second.

“Thank you for doing this with me, there’s truly nobody else I think I would want a baby with.” You confess, he takes your hand in his and kisses over your knuckles.

“Don’t worry about it, anything I can do to make my best friend a happy lady.”

~~~

“Oh, Dad that’s so cheesy.” Your eight year old daughter rolls her eyes at the story and he shrugs his shoulders.

“It’s what happened! Your mom and I were best friends, she wanted a baby and the stork delivered!You asked me to tell you the story of how you guys were born, and I did.” He huffs and pulls the young girl in his lap, planting small kisses all over her face.

“Dad! Please no more.” She laughs as he continues his assault of kisses on her face.

The sound of tiny feet and screaming can be heard from down the hall, Choso and his mini-me follow the noise and he has to refrain from laughing at the sight.

You’re attempting to put your boys to bed with a bedtime story, but not without acting out the details of course.

“I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house down!” You blow raspberries over their little faces and they break out into a fit of giggles.

“Mommy does a good wolf, right guys?” Your boys nod simultaneously and you smile up at your fiancé.

“Did you know it’s actually because she is one? Why do you think she’s so hairy?” He teases and you hit his shoulder playfully.

“Haha papa, so funny.” He helps you up to your feet and plants a kiss on your lips.

Your three munchkins groan in disgust and you and Choso can’t help but laugh.

“Alright guys it’s time for bed, we’ve got a busy week coming up!” You announce, you tuck the boys in bed and kiss their foreheads.

“Goodnight Mama, goodnight Papa, goodnight Junior!”

Junior is the nickname for your oldest daughter since she’s a carbon copy of her father. The only thing she got from you is her pretty brown skin and her tight coils.

“Goodnight boys, I love you, mama and Papa.” She hugs you both simultaneously and you lean down so she can kiss your faces.

“Goodnight pretty girl, sweet dreams.” You watch as she closes her bedroom door, and cheer quietly at another successful night.

“We’re such awesome parents Cho.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder and cups your cheeks as he kisses you.

“Yeah, we kinda know what we’re doing I guess.” He smiles down at you and pulls you in by your waist.

“And to think we were gonna stop with Junior. How crazy would that have been?” You ask as you reminisce.

Once you learned about your pregnancy, you two decided that it was just going to be a one-and-done situation. Then Choso realized that not only are you an amazing mother, but that you’re an even better significant other.

He proposed to you on the night of her first birthday, and nine months later your boys arrived. He truly wouldn’t want his life to go any other way, he has everything he’s ever wanted and more.

Ari