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#💌 — something for you!
agendabymooner · 2 months
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SOMETHING REUNITED !!! SEBASTIAN V. X FEM!READER! X MARK W. (18+)
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summary: sometimes a cat-and-mouse game of three can last longer than intended.
content warning: smut below the cut (minors dni), explicit language, mfm threesome, dom!sebastian and dom!mark (mentions rbr!mark and rbr!seb), multi 21, oral sex (m receiving) + deepthroat + facefucking, dumbification if you squint hard enough, double penetration + spitroast, praise kink, size kink-esque, age gap (with mark), unprotected sex (NOT RECOMMENDED)
💌re:moony's planner request: "pls more webberxsebxreader preferably smut"
note: i have a couple asks/requests sitting on my inbox for a while and this is the first thing i've written in a while 😭 i'm sorry to disappoint y'all but enjoy regardless xx
something sinful (smut) masterlist
a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist
if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out
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even ten years later, she still had them chasing after her. 
working with red bull was anything but easy for her back in 2012, being a 22 years old woman and all. women in motorsports were something of a relatively new topic back then and when she made her presence known in the milton keynes factory, she would have expected things to be hard for her.
well
 it was hard for her for a brief moment until a certain australian and german molded her into something more bold, giving her the attention and validation she desired. 
yet she persisted, thinking of them as people who merely wanted her to feel comfortable in the formula one field. she didn’t think much of it before.
until malaysia 2013 happened. sebastian vettel won after he stopped following a team order, causing mark webber his p1 and in the process the ‘multi 21’ controversy occurred. 
she was there to witness all of that - from mark’s radio to sebastian’s interview post-race, even their cooldown room segment. she was there. 
that was also the same night mark finally snapped and bent her over his hotel room bed, with her allowing mark to fuck the frustration out of himself while she whined and cried about how big he was— and how full she felt. 
it didn’t take long for sebastian to hear her whimpering and her pleading, as his room was situated next to mark’s. the german driver came knocking on mark’s door, and sebastian found his cock in her mouth and his hands gripping her hair. 
mark, ever the dominant man that he was, demanded the woman to suck the race winner’s cock and condescendingly told sebastian it was a ‘congratulatory gift’ from the australian. 
that was the last night they’ve ever seen each other in the same bed, but they saw each other a lot in the paddock. 
in 2014, mark left for world endurance while sebastian continued to chase after her - to which she explicitly stated that she wasn’t going to do it again. but sebastian pursued her continuously anyway.
now, in 2023, both men were retired but they always found themselves coming back to the paddock or the pit lane. mark webber had been managing a driver who was a rookie this year, while sebastian couldn’t find himself to leave the scene as he was newly retired. 
both had excuses, but no one really knew the real reason why they kept coming back. no one knew but themselves
 and her. 
the ten year build up led to her hotel room by the suzuka track, her tits were splayed out and pinched and caressed by both men and her knicker becoming more damp as they continued to tease her. she uttered nothing but a pitiful sigh, something that had both men groaning in delight.
“god, i fuckin’ miss that whining of yours, baby,” mark nipped her ear, his greying stubble grazing her neck and his grubby fingers nestling themselves between her legs. “miss the way you fuckin’ plead. you miss being handled like this, don’t you?”
sebastian chuckled darkly, his hand finding itself stabilizing her chin as he examined her desperate face. “and you thought those men you’ve been fucking were fulfilling your needs,” sebastian’s german accent thickened as he gave her an amused smile, “we’ve been waiting for this for ten years, liebe.”
it was a blur, having to figure out how she went from sinking down to her knees and choking on sebastian’s cock as the tip hit the back of her throat. she could feel a lot of things.
this included mark’s hand that held her hair up and bobbed her head back and forth. mark crooned sweetly and praised her, “there we go. that’s a good girl. keep sucking his cock like that, baby. you’re doing so good for him.” 
mark nearly laughed when he watched her knees close and clench, fascinated at her submissive state as his eyes looked at her teary ones.
sebastian’s usually-bright-blue eyes were darkening as her mouth took in mark’s length, watching the way her tongue swirled around the aussie’s tip before her nose grazed the hipbone of the older man. 
mark let out a guttural groan, feeling his tip at the back of her throat as she skillfully took him in. he let out a string of curses before he muttered, “good girl. keep sucking me off like that. ‘m gonna fuck this throat of yours, hm?” he peered down at her, waiting for her go ahead and witnessing her nod. 
sebastian smirked as mark’s hips began to snap forward, lewd sounds of liquid escaping her barely empty mouth as she continued to indulge in mark’s cock.
“she can take us both so well,” sebastian crooned to the girl, stroking his cock at the same pace mark fucked her mouth with his length.
a few snaps of his hips after, mark finally pulled her mouth away and allowed her to breathe. she panted heavily, looking up at the towering man and still kneeling before them. 
“think you can take both of us, schatz?” sebastian asked the woman as if she couldn’t comprehend a word anymore. her bruised throat didn’t tell them anything, earning an amused laugh from mark and sebastian. she was already fucked out and she only sucked their cocks. 
mark could remember how desperate she was to suck him off after his loss at malaysia, wanting to please him after he grew frustrated with sebastian’s refusal of order in the track. all mark could think about was how ten years later he was going to feel her again. perhaps even better this time.
sebastian laid on the bed, gesturing for the woman to sit on his cock. 
mark’s hand helped the woman up before slapping her ass, his mouth letting out a smirk when she let out a soft sigh at the impact. 
soon, she sat on sebastian’s lap, sinking down on his cock as she let out a moan, “oh fuck
” 
she adjusted, allowing herself to bounce on sebastian’s cock for a moment before she felt mark move and settle behind her. a splatter of lube escaped its bottle as mark spread it generously, in the process his fingers prodded her back hole as she let out a soft whine. 
mark fucked her with his fingers while sebastian continued to thrust slowly, making her writhe and cry out for the two of them. they really had missed this— her pitiful and pleading moan. they missed making her cry like she hadn’t been fucked hard before. 
“mm
 so fuckin’ tight,” mark whispered in her ear, pulling his hand away to stroke his cock and lubricate it. 
she nearly collapsed on top of sebastian when mark’s cock entered her slowly, both she and mark letting out loud moans. she felt so full while mark felt like she was hugging his cock tightly. 
“fuck, mark!” she exclaimed, her head nuzzling sebastian’s shoulder for a moment as she babbled, “so fucking big. god, you’re so fucking big!” 
“you’re so tight for us, schatz,” sebastian murmured and kissed her temple sweetly. “so fragile, we can barely fit ourselves in your holes.” 
“seb,” she whimpered as she muttered, “‘m so full.”
“i know you are, bebe,” sebastian said, humouring her submissive state while mocking her in the process, “you’re so full that you can’t think anymore, hm? all you can do is be a good girl for us because you’re already fucked out.” 
mark groaned loudly, now moving languidly alongside sebastian as the two men thrusted in and out of her holes. she couldn’t do much, she couldn’t even reminisce because of the sensations that she’s lost all thanks to their dominance and their primal urge to fuck her endlessly.
“you miss this, baby?” mark whispered heatedly, now moving rougher as she cried out their names. “missed this body of yours.”
“you had us running after you for years,” sebastian smirked, “now you’re a putty in our hands. such a shame you made us wait this long.”
“it’s a good thing we caught you eventually,” mark added as his eyes found her hands clawing at sebastian’s bare chest while she whined and squirmed in pleasure.
“because we’re gonna make sure you’re not gonna slip away anymore. gonna make sure you’re ours. gonna make sure everyone knows you’re ours — we’re gonna fuckin’ ruin every man for you like we did in 2013.” 
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♡ moony’s reminder đŸ…¶ (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @hiireadstuff @biancathecool @scorpiomindfuck
♡   moony’s reminder 🅮 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129 @maxillness
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toji-girl · 2 months
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i actually think i have a problem - i have a serious lactation kink like idk why 😭 i was wondering if you could possibly write a toji x reader w lactation kink and literally anything else you’d like to add đŸ„č
- đŸ©°
toji and lactation kink go hand in hand so ofc! I gotcha also the idea of letting him do that is so sensual and intimate and just skhnsjkhsr!! I want him so bad.
tags: 18+ only content - mdni + fem reader + lactation kink + you're mamaguro + Megumi is a newborn + this has no smut in it actually lmao but I enjoyed writing this either way - if you want smut just lmk for sure 😏😏
Any time you heard any baby, and not just your son wail at the top of their new lungs your shirt would become a soaking mess, the high-pitched cries were enough to have you flustered and embarrassed.
It couldn't be helped though.
Breastfeeding a very hungry baby is a full-time job.
Also, having a husband who was curious about it as well seemed to be a part-time job, he'd watch Megumi suckle from your breast until he fell asleep completely milk-drunk. "Is it sweet?" He questioned from the other side of the room wanting to know what it tasted like.
At first, it was just a curiosity thing then it slowly turned into a burning need that he couldn't get out of his head, and a few times he's helped massage your breast to help with a clogged duct.
"Ya know I love how much bigger these have gotten," Toji murmured one evening when the both of you had some downtime while Megumi slept in his room down the hallway, large palms cupping your breasts feeling the milk start to bead on your nipples, and through the shirt soaking the fabric.
You narrowed your eyes at him and rolled them playfully. "I thought you liked them before?" You asked feeling a little self-conscious after giving birth which was something your husband knew about.
"I love every inch of you doll, you just gave birth to our son, you're badass." He murmured moving in closer to you, his words were an attempt to soothe any worries you have and it helped a little.
He nudged at your side almost like a dog before slipping his hands up your shirt. "Megumi won't be awake for a while, if you keep doing that I'm going to have to pump." You whined softly when he used the advantage of how huge his shirt was on you to poke his head underneath it and kiss your stomach slowly.
"Let me help then," Toji murmured causing you to pull the neck away to look at him still hidden under the shirt, his hot breath fanned over your breast that he inched closer to, the milk dripping down your sides making you wet and sticky. He watched as you nodded slowly.
You knew it would help so you let him latch onto your nipple drawing the bud into his mouth gently making you hiss with relief when he began to suck drawing the milk out. "Gentle! They feel like chew toys for our son." You hummed and rubbed his back groaning softly.
It didn't take him long for him to switch to your other breast, his bulge becoming prominent as he slid one arm under your back to tug you closer to him. "Feel any better?" Toji asked when he pulled away licking his lips and pulling his head out from under your shirt.
"A lot....thank you." You looked at him a little shy making him chuckle and wipe his mouth before he kissed you and let you curl into his side ready to fall into a deep sleep after being awake for so long.
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kithtaehyung · 9 months
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3tan slice:
yoongi watching reader get ready 🍊
stopppp i love this :((( this is for the 3tan yoongi and irl yoongi missers (at least, one of the things i have planned<;333)
"How about this one?"
Oh, you're back already. Adjusting his arm, Yoongi lifts his head to check his phone screen, wondering if you're gonna pass up this next dress too despite him liking the hell out of it.
"Is that new?"
Your smile is truly one of his favorite things.
"Yeah! Got it when I went shopping with Yuri. Well. She made me get it."
When you pout, do you know how it affects him?
Yoongi just huffs through his nose, settling into the crook of his elbow and letting the warmth of afternoon coat his shoulder. Casting a quick look out his blinds, he wishes you were here instead, coming in and out of another closet that comes to mind.
"Is it bad? Damn."
"Huh?" Shit, he never answered out loud. "Nah, that's the one."
"Oh, okay. You didn't say anything."
Still his problem. A million thoughts, with nowhere to go. "Sorry, doll. Just thinking."
You're in the middle of undressing offscreen, which is yet another thing he finds incredibly endearing. He can only see one of your elbows peek into the frame as you question,
"Work again?"
"You," he corrects, full of sleepiness and void of hesitation.
"Oh."
Eyes fully shut, Yoongi doesn't lift them again until you fetch for another opinion. Which is longer than he expects because you go fully silent for a bit.
"Okay, how's this?"
His eyes flicker open seconds before his heart skips.
Fuck.
He hasn't felt his chest beat like that in a minute.
Are words coming out this time? Or is his tongue as uncooperative as his brain? Why can't he say the simplest shit when you're just standing in front of him? Fuck, he can't even articulate anything but he just knows you're fucking beautiful.
When the hell did you steal his voice, too?
"I'll let you sleep," you whisper, and he hates how down you sound because should never have a reason to feel that way. "Just text me when you can, yeah?"
If he can't say how he feels, Yoongi goes for the second option. And he's not letting that one fail. "Come over when you're done."
"Wait, what?"
He adjusts his head again, slanting a bit higher to admire everything about you. "After your dinner."
"You need to sleep..."
Why are you so considerate when it comes to him? What did he ever do to deserve anything you're willing to give? He's thought about these things so much that they take up most of his sleepless, tired nights. "You're gonna keep me up looking like that anyway."
"But.. what about.."
"I won't take long."
"You sure?"
"No."
God. Yoongi will never, ever get over the ways you try to hide that shyness. There's no way he can stop his grin, and when you make him swear it will be quick, he also can't stop himself from teasing yet again,
"Depends on how long you last."
"Alright, bye," you deadpan, giving him sweet rejection and hitting him where it hurts so good. But you smile once more, agreeing to come over but only for a tiny, tiny bit.
"That's all I need, doll."
"Prove it."
Oh.
He intends to.
Because you can make him speechless for now.
But when it comes to showing you how he feels?
There's no way you're shutting his ass up.
-
-
3tanslices: mini-scenarios!
series: three tangerines
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loversmore · 9 months
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FOURTH NATTAWAT as GUN – MY SCHOOL PRESIDENT (2023) for @hyunsung ♡
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newtlesbian · 6 months
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i picture a sunny episode where charlie starts a janitors strike and its just him at paddys so the rest of the gang gets to act shitty at him which is always funny. that “awww did somebody get addicted to crack” energy
but it snowballs majorly and he gets other janitors to join
the scene i imagine is him giving a speech on behalf of the janitors that like. starts out with normal strike demands the others all agree with and they get into it all cheering. but as he keeps talking they all realize hes insane “and we janitors demand more cheese for our rat traps so we can have enough extra to snack on while we clean them out” “no longer will you feed your scraps to our yuck puddles they simply get too big and we have enough bones to clean up as it is. and besides we believe its more natural for a puddle to hunt on its own anyway” “the janitors of philadelphia will return to work once our bosses stop purposefully aiming badly at the urinals as revenge for kicking them in our sleep the night before or for taking too much of the blankets”
something. then they question hitching their wagon to him and probably somebody else takes over at that point lmaooo but him assuming normal janitors relate to his life. anyway i want charlie kelly 2 unionize the workers of the world and i want it to end with their demands being met especially the weird ones peace on earth. the rest of the gang 100% spend the episode in filth missing him and the work he does classic them
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hana-no-seiiki · 9 months
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I wonder how a himbo Yan would be like with a dense but super sociable/golden retriever reader. Like, the reader has a ton of friends and himbo yan is just confused why they feel so agitated whenever they see the reader with them. (Maybe it's their first time feeling jealous over their friends?? Like " no hang out with me >:((( " ) or like Yan himbo feels angry inside when reader calls all their friends their bff.
Sorry this is so long 😓😓 so many ideas
No please! Send more!! I love these ♄
Bold of you to assume he’d let them even have other friends. You have to constantly reassure him that they’re just acquaintances and he’s your one and only bro. People just swarm around you like flies and he can’t fault either parties. You’re amazing and easy to talk to, of course they’d want a piece of you.
That’s why Yan! Himbo has to be the saran wrap to your tasty ass.
If you reciprocate his touchy, feely attitude then you’d prolly unintentionally ward off potential suitors now that I think about it. That and Yan! Himbo’s burning glare probably put them off.
Yan! Himbo with a black cat reader tho

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loveume · 1 year
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# kaleidoscope 🎐
"didn't know you were trying to go cross-eyed."
you look up from where you're leaning at your vanity mirror, nose almost touching the reflective glass you stare into, to meet the teal eyes that study you curiously.
sae stands just across the space of your shared walk-in closet, seemingly deciding which watch would go best with the sleek prada suit he wears. he looks handsome, terribly handsome like he always does.
"i think my makeup looks weird." you tell him, turning so he can take a look for himself.
it's not your makeup that nags at you, well it is but it's also your hair and this dress and your shoes. your face? everything feels wrong, like you're in a body you don't belong in looking at a person you don't recognize.
it takes sae a moment to respond, his eyes raking over you with precision.
"your makeup looks pretty, matches your shoes."
you glance down towards the black heels adorning your feet, beads twinkling up at you.
"that's not what's actually bothering you, is it?" sae asks as he slides his watch of choice on and clips into place.
"no." you let out a heavy sigh, sinking down onto the seat in front of your vanity.
he gives you time to gather your thoughts, your husband is never one to push. especially in situations like these.
you keep your eyes on your shoes, tapping the toes together ever so slightly. "sometimes i look at myself," you pause to take a breath, "and i don't see me. like i don't belong in this dress, and these heels. i don't deserve to wake up in our bed and eat in our kitchen. i feel like a....fraud." you cover your face with your hands as you finish voicing your thoughts.
it only takes a few moments before you feel the fingers of both of sae's hands curl around your wrists, gently lifting them away from your face.
your eyes meet his and he sees how watery they are and how your bottom lip wobbles. you see the worry etched into his brow and the unsettled expression on his face.
"you're not a fraud." he says in that blunt way that is so itoshi sae. "you belong in that dress and those shoes. you belong here in our home, with me. you're you, and nothing will change that. no matter what awful tricks your brain wants to play on you."
you blink back your tears and give him a soft smile, hands squeezing his.
"thank you."
one of his hands reaches up and catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, titling it up.
"you're welcome," he replies, kissing your cheek, "now finish getting ready, the sooner we show up to this ridiculous event the sooner we can abandon it for our bed."
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mareagirls · 1 year
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Hi! If you’re ever in the mood to write a sickfic I like this idea.
Peter and reader are on a date, but reader feels nauseous. But, reader doesn’t want to tell Peter because a: they’ve both been super busy lately between Spider-Man duties and college and/or work and b: because even if reader won’t admit it, being vulnerable and being taken care of kind of scares them. But Peter finds out/figured it out and wants to help and fluff ensues.
Anyway, it’s just an idea. No pressure to complete (obvi)! Hope you’re doing well and drinking water! <3
~đŸ„§
 hey pie anon! i hope this is okay and i'm sorry it's months late! I forgot it was in my drafts :')
You realise something is wrong when you’re only a quarter of the way through your pizza and Peter is over half way through his.
You feel sick. Or at the very least least like you might be - nausea brewing uncomfortably in your stomach as you take small bites of your food.
Your boyfriend chats away opposite you, blissfully unaware that you've started to feel queasy, so you plaster a smile on your face and swallow hard. The two of you have been incredibly busy for the past few days between your work and his vigilante duties, and the last thing you want to do is ruin the first peaceful moment you’ve had together. You can tell how much Peter has needed a little normalcy. The thought of ruining it because you’re feeling a little off feels incredibly selfish.
Beyond that, you're not used to letting people take care of you, and though Peter has told you countless times that he likes doing it, you can never quite dislodge uncomfortable feeling of vulnerability that blooms in you whenever he does. Letting yourself be loved, allowing Peter to look after you when you're not feeling too well - they're processes. You've been trying to work on them for a while, but it's difficult. It always has been.
You’re just trying to rub at your chest discreetly when Peter looks up at you from his almost empty plate. 
"Everything okay?" 
"Yes! Yeah, everything is fine." Your reply comes out wobbly and you only realise afterwards that you’ve made too much of an effort to sound alright. You smile at Peter through gritted teeth and try foolishly to convince yourself that if you pretend the nausea doesn't exist, it'll go.
Peter doesn’t look like he believes you for a second.
"Are you sure? Do you not like your pizza?" He pushes his own plate towards you as if it's the easiest thing ever, offering you his last two slices. "Here, baby. We can swap."
The tender easiness in the gesture very nearly makes you want to cry. Peter Parker might just be the loveliest boy you’ve ever known.
"No, Peter it's okay. My pizza is good,” your hands shifts slightly to rub against your abdomen, Peter tracks your movements cautiously. “I'm just kinda full I think.”
Your boy raises an eyebrow at your barely eaten pizza but nods, never one to push you for explanations.
"I'll ask for the bill and a box to take the rest home. We can have the ice cream in the freezer when we get back. How's that sound?"
The thought of ice cream makes you feel queasy, but Peter seems so hopeful and he's looked so tired and sad in the past few days that you cant help but indulge him.
-
Once you’ve gotten the bill and packed your leftover pizza into a takeaway box, Peter takes your hand in his and guides you out of the restaurant.
New York City in the evening is a sensory nightmare, but your nausea does abate slightly thanks to the fresh air. You catch Peter looking down at you and stamp an awkward smile on your face.
"Home?" He squeezes your fingers gently.
Your stomach churns at the thought of having to go so far, but Peter is looking at you like you've hung the moon and the stars - the journey home feels a little more bearable with him by your side.
"Yes please."
"You okay to walk?" 
"I'm fine, Peter. I promise."
"No, you're not, baby. And that's okay, you don't have to tell me what's wrong if you don’t want to. Just let me take care of you."
You sigh, resigned. You don't even know why you tried to hide it from him. Peter can quite literally hear your heartbeat, of course he was going to clock that you're not feeling too well.
Peter keeps his body angled towards yours as the two of you walk, and you soon realise that he's shielding you the best he can from the light around you and all the bodies rushing past. It's a small gesture, one that he might not even realise he's doing, but makes your chest flutter pleasantly
Then, just as you think that maybe the nausea is easing up, another wave of discomfort overwhelms you and you stumble.
Fortunately Peter catches your wrist just before you can do any real damage, balancing your pizza box in his free hand. He helps you back up easily, his fingers a warm pressure on your skin.
"Woah. Hey, hey, sweetheart. Let's just stop for a second, hm?"
You are mortified, and very sorry about how inconvenient you're being but when Peter pulls you to a stop, you oblige. Tears swarming in your eyes, you make one last ditch attempt at snuffing out the discomfort by pushing your face into the soft sweatshirt your boyfriend is wearing. 
You feel him go still and for one horrible millisecond, you think he's going to push you away, but then Peter’s body relaxes and he presses you against him softly, almost as if he's afraid to hurt you.
You mumble into his chest. "I'm really sorry."
"It's okay, you don't have to apologise," his lips are soft against the crown of your head. "You're good. Let's take a moment, alright?"
You nod, sniffing slightly.
"We're nearly there. Just a few more blocks to go." 
Something like a whine gets stuck in your throat and Peter coos gently, a hand coming up to cup the back of your head. “I know. You’re alright, honey. I've got you.”
You straighten up after a few seconds, aware that this is not at all what he signed up for when the two of you left the house, and Peter frowns a little.
"You can lean into me, baby. You're not a bother."
And you do know, because he's said it to you countless times before in different variations. I like being there for you. You don't have to apologise. I'm here for you, it's kinda in the boyfriend job description.
Peter doesn’t have to repeat himself. When he nudges you closer, you lean in.
-
Once you’re at home, Peter lets go of you carefully, never taking his eyes off you as he reaches into his jacket pocket and pull out the keys to let you both in.
He places the pizza box on the microwave in the kitchen before following you through down the corridor, a hand ghosting the small of your back. When you reach the bedroom, he dims the lights.
You sit on the bed gingerly. Peter sits next to you.
"How are you feeling?" Peter asks.
You’re quiet for a while. Then, a small admission;
"I feel really nauseous Peter." You avoid his gaze. "It started in the restaurant. I don't... I don't know what's wrong."
Peter is silent for a beat. You take it as a sign that you've said something wrong.
"It's fine though. I'm sorry for ruining the meal. I know you were looking forward to this." your voice is hoarse. "I’m really sorry."
When you muster the courage to look up at him, Peter looks horrified.
"Baby, what are you talking about? You didn't ruin anything. It's okay." His hand comes up to brush at your jawline. "I got to spend time with my best girl. I feel like the luckiest guy alive."
You think he might be exaggerating just to make you smile, but there's real sincerity in his tone. "Do you want pain relief? Some ginger tea, maybe?"
Right now, you only want Peter.
"Can we just cuddle for a bit, please?"
"Oh, my girl." Peter is already pulling you down so that you're lying against his chest. "C'mere."
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Hello!
I would like to request a Rocky x reader (romantic) oneshot. A fluffy one with a bit of spice would be nice ;) I don't really have a specific plot in mind, but maybe something on the topic of affection? Whatever the story, i'm sure it will be amazing ❀
Thank u, and have a nice day/night!
Hello, Anon!! Thank you for dropping by!! Your request just so happened to align with an idea I've had, and... I got a bit carried away, I suppose. This is well over three thousand words.
Hope you'll find as much entertainment in reading as I did in writing, anyhow!! (I missed crafting dialogue for this silly cat, even if it's equal parts shameless purple prose fun and an absolute pain in the neck.)
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“Absolutely not.”
The pose of cheerful enthusiasm he presented the idea with didn’t falter, although his grin seemed to by a sliver.
“Aww, why?”
“It’s not gonna work.”
“We can’t know that until we try!”
You’d come down before opening hour, when many of the lights framing the red-curtained stage and finely carved pillars hadn’t been ignited yet in order to lessen electricity bills, leaving the grandiose speakeasy hall to ruminate in a mellow, warm late afternoon dusk. Leaning against one of the pool tables webbed with gilded patterns on the sides, you glanced him up and down in half-lidded skepticism. It was brief, yet defeating.
“I say this with all the love in my heart,” you prefaced the ruthless confession with a teasing smile, “but you don’t look like you could lift a cornstalk.”
“And you have a point! But consider this,” he countered, gesturing passionately with his hands as if materializing a vision of success before the both of you, and that’s when you recognized this conversation was about to shimmy beyond the bounds of reality. “What wonders can be achieved through the power of love? It can avail you to weather a sea of infernal blazes, crumble ancient mounts to their innermost cores, compel the course of celestial bodies–”
“But it can’t give you muscles.”
The conjurations of poetic fancies promptly shattered, and he gave you a disheartened look.
“Oh, come on, dearest,” he pleaded, all gleaming blue eyes and droopy ears. “Have you no faith in your one and only chevalier?”
“Concerning any other situation
 a hard maybe. Depends if anything flammable’s involved.”
You put a finger to your chin in lighthearted contemplation.
“But this
 well, I trust you in pulling this off without either of us getting hurt about as far as I could throw you with one hand.”
“I don’t weigh much,” he perked up assuringly. “You could toss me a good few feet, I reckon.”
“So then we should try this the other way around.”
A glint of curiosity hinted he may not have been entirely opposed. Nonetheless, you could tell he wouldn’t let himself be so easily shot down in his steadfast ambitions, about which you happened to be right.
“Your suggestions are appreciated,” he placated upon your prompt sigh of disappointment, “but in the name of chivalry I must persist with my vision. Because I am certain that there is a way, as there is a will, to achieve it.”
He pondered aloud whilst leant against the pool table opposite to yours, tail swishing figure eights in the air as if stirring up the brainworks.
“Just let me think about it
”
A bit to the left, two of the local employment were spectating from their usual spots by the bar. Zib, who had draped himself half-across the counter while Viktor was cleaning it around him, regarded the scene from under his hat with a caustic glance. The smoke simmering from the cigarette he was languidly tasting occasionally wafted your way.
“Looks like chivalry’s not dead yet after all,” he grumbled, the corners of his lips teasing amusement, “but he’s about to be.”
The burly slovak continued with his somewhat menial task in dutiful disinterest, intimidating all unsightly dirt spots off the wooden surface with an effortless glare.
“Idiot vill break own spine vid effort,” he stated matter-of-factly, then after a thoughtful pause, shrugged. “Saves me the trouble.”
“Oh, such searing pessimism!”
Rocky turned to theatrically retort, rejoining your circles from the far reaches of whatever realms his mind had been venturing.
“Well I regret to inform you, gentlemen,” he gave an easygoing little smirk, “that the only sort of spectacle you’ll be getting today is the glorious display of romance’s incandescent triumph.”
“You should heed your sweetheart’s advice, kid,” Zib warned over his glassful of a somewhat suspicious golden beverage. “Artists like you and I just weren’t built for these kinds of strenuous feats. You’ll get a hernia and then the boss lady will be down one questionable bootlegger.”
“Pff
 Nonsense talk!”
He waved off the notion as if swatting away a bug, and you pinched your brow in exasperation.
“Waste not such paltry concerns on me, my friend! You see, it might not leave that impression at first glance
” he flexed a bit to show off his bicep then stared at it with a blank expression once it failed to strengthen his argument, “nor perhaps second
 but these spindly sinews are rife with untapped potential! Why, you think the Atlas of mythology had trained in advance to support the whole world on his shoulders? And yet, it still goes ‘round smoothly to this day. Which is to say that, hopefully helped by Fortuna’s favor, the release of a comparable innate strength shall aid me in this fated task of carrying mine.”
Despite his conspicuous lack of visible musculature he gave a grin of such radiant certainty it could’ve powered the rest of the lights. Zib blinked slowly, unimpressed in his fermentative, cigarette-stink skepticism. Viktor kept cleaning.
“Albeit I suppose there’s more point in a show rather than tell.”
Rocky stretched his arms in a somewhat comically overstated manner.
“So the old-fashionated way it is!” He then took up a stance and spread them in anticipation. “Come hither, my darling love, let’s prove those naysayers wrong! Leap into the arms of your favorite bard!”
“I still don’t condone this idea.”
You crossed your arms, resolution as hard as the wood digging into your lower back. Unstoppable force smiling baffledly at the inmovable object.
“You don’t?”
“Not really.”
He pouted. Oh, how you couldn’t stand it when those gorgeous sapphires looked at you so coyly despondent. And of course, he was aware.
“You mean you won’t even give it a chance?” he implored, tail gingerly lowering. “Not even if I’ll sooner have my organs be crushed into a fine sludge than let one hair on your head bend the wrong way?”
“Especially not then.”
Patiently, you stood, the twitch of your ears and your own tail’s gentle whipping behind your legs and brushing up to the smooth block of wood being your only movement. You watched him deflate in a slowly progressing manner not unlike that of a balloon animal leaking from a small opening; you could even imagine the characteristic sound to go with.
You tried not to laugh.
“Not even if,” he attempted once more, “it could be a most passionful pageantry of courteousness?”
“More like foolishness.”
Irritated by his snark for a change, you tilted your head in Zib’s direction. When he earned both of your attention by extension the resident nicotine eater, chin resting on the heel of his palm, flicked a huge ear and leisurely presented his back to you as though he’d never cared.
“Just picture it for a second!” Rocky suggested, snapping back to the conversation and taking your hand in his to help transmit the mental imagery through skin-to-skin contact. “A most consummate culmination of chivalrous custom!”
“Certainly,” you rolled your eyes yet didn’t resist when he snuck up close to grab a hold of your waist with an almost imperceptible delicacy.
“I’d gather you in my arms,” he narrated, “a most beauteous royal rose, pooling in your eyes the glimmers of a star-speckled galaxy, a divine black ether brimming with a variegated, dazzling cavalcade of celestial hues
 oh, what fair nobility of ephemeral grace, molded in the realms above from the finest marble and ambrosia by lilium-scented, angelic hands
”
His face was close to yours, and your gazes intertwined; you could be quite sure he was just describing what he saw. You averted your eyes, slightly flustered.
“You sure know your words,” you nipped without any real teeth to it.
“I try,” he acknowledged cheerfully, nonetheless keeping proximate. “And me, no more than a humbled troubadour, a mere mortal permitted by Providence to embrace salvation itself,” you made an inarticulate noise of incredulity, “gentle tethering of your mass serving to remind that this resplendent scene is no meager illusion, a cruel trick of the light, but bona fide reality
”
You squirmed half-heartedly away in your chagrin, yet each bit of distance you created between the two of you he kept closing just as effortlessly, drinking in your expressions.
“In rapt entrancement we’d behold each other’s countenance,” you could feel his words on your whiskers, “honey-glaze lusters dancing across our lips in nectareal beckoning, your arms entangling my nape with fervor as you pull me under to merge our souls by way of osculation in the heart of the Earth–”
“Enough rhapsodizing,” you entreated with a wide, mildly embarrassed smile you couldn’t fight, “you poetaster.”
“Now, don’t tell me you wouldn’t enjoy that.”
You exhaled in a burst, gripping the wooden brim you were leant on. Tail curling and uncurling in thought.
“It sounds fine,” you emphatically minced, “but I don’t require it. You know you can just talk sweet to me like that or give me a kiss when I’m still on my feet and you’ll just as easily sweep me off them.”
“But there’s no harm in experimenting, right?”
“That’s
 a very dubious statement.”
“Well, if it does work, it shall surely be memorable.”
Across the way, over ornate red carpet and leather seats, Viktor had since taken to polishing glasses while Zib ever-industriously continued to metabolize the establishment’s embalming fluid reserves in spite of the hour.
“
And if it doesn’t,” Rocky proposed the possibility with great hesitation, “as far as I can recall, bone fractures actually heal a lot quicker than you’d expect.”
With the band backstage, that’d be only two direct witnesses to your loss of dignity.
“You’re not about to let this go until I oblige,” you observed with a heavy heart and patted his arm, “so go ahead. I’ll give you a chance to enter history records as the world’s first cooked pasta-based organism to princess carry a whole person.”
You adjusted yourself in front of him at a roughly ninety-degree angle and put your arm around his shoulders. Enthusiasm flawlessly rekindled he took swift hold of your back in return, biting his lip in anticipation like a giddy kid.
“But if you sprain a muscle, I’m not bringing you the ice,” you stated firmly to his face.
“You can’t sprain what’s scarcely there,” he beamed back like it was of any reassurance.
“Well, alright.”
That obnoxious smoke hit your nose again. Beneath the golden glow of red lampshades, Zib had unexpectedly honored your ambitions by sitting marginally more erect, pushing up the brim of his hat to ensure his sight wasn’t failing him.
“Wouldn’t you look at that,” he grunted, pointy eyebrows raised. “They’re doing it for real.”
Viktor stopped in his surprisingly gentle handiwork and fixed a sharp, singular eye on the pair of you. When your clumsy preparations and nervous fidgeting painted a confirmatory enough picture, he set the glass and rag down with a thud, leisurely slapping two huge paws on the clean oak counter to lean on it.
“Dis vill be amusing.”
You gulped at the audience, blooming in your chest a severe doubt. You squeezed Rocky’s shoulder and felt the pointed conjunction of bones digging into your palm without any real effort.
“Whenever you’re ready
”
He smiled at you with those sweet blue eyes that drew your attention like a magnet, adamant on dissolving your worries within themselves. It almost convinced you that what you were about to do wasn’t both ridiculously asinine and physically unsafe
 albeit still rather mild by the standards of dating Rocky Rickaby.
You looked at one of the curling, wrought iron chandeliers and sucked in a resolute breath.
“
Here goes nothing.”
In clenched-fist concentration, you jumped and threw your legs in the air for him to catch. He grabbed after them in wide-eyed startlement and as the momentum flung you at him, you prayed.
There was a grunting noise. Something in-between the squeak of a strangled rubber chicken and the aghast chuff of a scuffed, abused bagpipe as every last square inch of air is violently crushed out of it; you’d heard naught of such a combination before yet were instantly able to identify it. Arms clasped tight around his neck you hung on for dear life whilst he gripped your side and thighs in a no less firm desperation, fingers unintendedly clawing into tense flesh. He stood taut as a bowstring, you could feel as much beneath the clothes, though unfortunately nowhere near as straight and with every slight tremble and corrective squirm you feared yourselves tipping over in his direction and giving the carpeted limestone a sore greeting.
Time collapsed to a halt under the weight of anticipation. Cautious in your breaths, wide-eyed and blatantly uncomforted by his palpable quaking, you watched as his rigid expression of concentration strained on a half-hearted grin for your sake to mask what very much still was mortal terror hatching from amongst the shards of hubris.
And then
 nothing.
You blinked a few times. Other than your own heartbeat, and what amounted to the whimpers of a heavy wooden chair being dragged across the floor that you soon confirmed to be coming from him instead, all sounds of impending doom receded. You took a deep inhale of the stagnant cave air and held it in bewilderment, knees squished close to one another.
Well, you’d be damned.
Flush to his torso and clutching the cheap fabric of his shirt, you stared on, trying to comprehend the situation. As was he, evidently, with how amidst his tight-lipped yet valiant bearing of the ramifications his eyes darted around the room as if disaster was running unusually late. No gears turn at such a pace however, for when at last the ice in your tendons began to melt in contemplation of asking whether he could move enough to put you down safely or if you should just jump for it, he exerted a small huff of accomplishment and it changed something, because you began to dip rapidly forward. Some indiscernible profanity escaped your mouth.
At least he gallantly broke your fall
 and a rib as well, by the sound of it.
The ground was about as soft as you’d imagined when it kissed your limbs and left you with your hands splayed on velvety carpet. You caught glimpse of your audience and, lo and behold, Viktor for a brief second appeared to possess something of a smile behind the bar. Of schadenfreude, naturally. Nonetheless the witnessing of such an evanescent miracle left you nothing short of humbled.
“Well, that surprised nobody,” Zib sneered, a whiff of smoke leaving his nostrils. “We’ll hold him a tasteful funeral.”
“He’s not dead,” you indignantly countered, blowing tousled locks of hair out of your face, then turned to your knight in shoddy armor just to be sure. “You’re not dead, right?”
With that, you recognized that the reason your posterior ached less than the rest of you was his organs still being smushed under it, so you hastily clambered off. Sweetly enough, he hadn’t mentioned, though it may have just been that he’d yet to recover from getting the wind knocked out of him enough to form a sentence.
“Never felt more alive,” he wheezed in affirmation, clutching his torso. “I’ve come to sense fibers of my physique I didn’t know existed.”
“No wonder. Did you dislocate something?”
Crouched over your boyfriend on all fours, you scrutinized him whilst your tail lashed back and forth in acute concern regarding his lack of attempts to get up despite having him practically caged under you. Considering his talent for looking pathetic while curled up on the floor, you couldn’t be blamed.
“Well, all of my bones are still inside,” he tilted his head without raising it to look over himself. “That’s their designated place, I believe.”
“You’re such a twit.”
Bright blue eyes flicked up at you innocently, arms clasped together in a protective self-embrace. Your features softened with a sigh.
“I heard a crack,” you explained, gaze lingering over his ribcage. “I thought I’d hurt you.”
“Oh, that was just my pride,” he dismissed jovially. “Nothing worth the bewailment. Poor thing wasn’t about to survive the winter anyhow.”
That restless, puffy tail of yours came to a tentative pause upon his knees, drawn only halfway up to accomodate your presence as he squirmed lightly in his restricted position. Though the barely lit murk of underground, his grin still shined as disarming as any other.
“You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.”
Whether he meant that remark as a pacification or a challenge, you preferred not to dispute. You let go of the tension in your shoulders however, easing off to settle down next to him and allow him some space to do the same.
“Well, this was just stupid,” you concluded, listlessly examining your bruised appendages. “I have no idea what drove you to something so pointless.”
He carefully rolled up off the ground then simply sat there, blinking at you in a way that betrayed neither any particular discomfort nor the absence of it. You observed him in ponderance. Due to the lack of any concrete signals from upstairs you decided you’d just have to assume the best.
“Unless,” you teased with a squint of suspicion, minding your volume, “you just wanted me on top of you that bad.”
Now that definitely reached the headquarters. When it did, he responded with one of those downright sinful grins that made the notion of punching him in the face sound vastly appealing.
“It wasn’t according to my plan, per se,” he gestured in a sly manner, “but it’s certainly not a development you’ll catch me complaining about.”
“You cad.”
You regarded him with a scolding glare you didn’t really mean but perhaps should’ve. He stood or, well, sat his ground, and it didn’t take a medium to guess anymore what newfound visions might’ve been stirring on behind that striped forehead of his; you only hoped he wouldn’t start waxing poetics about it.
“Could’ve just asked me nicely,” you murmured with a smirk.
You noted the proximity all of a sudden; his nose couldn’t have been two inches away from touching yours. He peered down at you in awareness, chuckling.
“Ah, but the overture's half the merriment.”
“This place has marvelous acoustics, by the way,” Zib spoke out of nowhere and made every bone in your body flinch, “so you might wanna consider taking this somewhere else before our sparse patronage arrives–”
“Oh, shut it, Zibowsky.”
You snapped at him, ears pinned, feeling rather deserving of some soap in your mouth. Rocky got over the interruption with a more careless ease and disregarded the air of awkwardness he helped create in favor of lighting up in triumph.
“But our labour for love wasn’t in vain, after all!” he exclaimed over your shoulder. “We all saw it, right? My romantically inspired exhibition of unprecedented prowress? I must’ve held on for a good minute there!”
“How long did it last, by the way?” you inquired, watching as Viktor continued cleaning glasses. “I was too busy panicking to count.”
“Two seconds.”
Your face stretched in astonishment. Zib took out a lighter.
“You’re pulling my leg.”
“No, really,” he reiterated, igniting another cigarette with a series of clicks while the previous butt laid crumpled beside him on the counter, “two seconds. I was just about to congratulate you.”
You stared on at the sprawling carpet, befuddled, yet the intricate patterns held no explanation for this anomaly. Time does simply happen to slow to a crawl when you’re fearing for your life, as it turned out. Rocky slumped in dejection.
“Ah well,” he lamented, bushy brows descending. “It would appear that my hopes to beguile you with a debonair display could not come true after all.”
His tail gingerly curled around him, saddened to an equal degree. You pouted along in playful endearment.
“You’re so silly,” you ascertained. “I don’t mind that you’re a weakling.”
You took his hand balled up on the ground, enveloping it with your own. He watched in slight trepidation.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
The two of you locked eyes amidst the magnificent cavern of bygone extravagance; the ‘heart of the Earth’, as he’d put it. Decked in hues of crimson and gold and marinating in a mystiqueful twilight, a regrettably vacant wonder of architectural design honoring the arts dĂ©coratifs, all the dazzling sights of the establishment couldn't have hoped to draw you away from the one instrictic extension of it you delighted in looking at the most.
“And I wouldn’t trade you in for the brawniest of gallants,” you pressed a tingling kiss on his cheek, “my noodle-limbed prince.”
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liriostigre · 17 days
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sorry about your phone and đŸ‘ïž what's your letterboxd?
thanks đŸŒ· and here
(this is gonna sound maybe preachy or pretentious but i'm a bit of a Letterboxd hater, and my reason is that i feel like most reviews are hollow and insincere and pandering to meme culture. it's as if everyone wants their reviews to be screenshotted and posted to other social media. it's tiring to see everything written in the language of memes and everyone trying so hard to be funny. i mean, some of those one-liners are funny, don't get me wrong lol but it's an app for reviews and film appreciation, so why does it feel like Twitter 😼‍💹 i think art demands real understanding and analysis. i know it's silly to be annoyed at something like this lol and i'm not even that annoyed. i'm just a big fan of being authentic and earnest when it comes to art interpretation đŸ‘đŸ» all that being said‚ i'd love to follow you regardless of what 'type' of reviewer you are. i'll be just happy to check out your favorite movies and i'll be respectful of the thoughts you share 💐)
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agendabymooner · 5 months
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SOMETHING SCANDALOUS !!! DANIEL R. X FEM!READER (18+)
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summary: she was so drawn on him that she couldn't find herself to care where she was. (pt. 3-ish of something watchful and something jealous).
content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), based on a request from my ask, use of explicit language, pwp, what is beta reading, unprotected sex (a no no), semi-public sex + mirror sex hehe, oral sex (m receiving) + deepthroat, p in v, exhibitionism + mentions of voyeurism (!!!!), just straight up nasty tbh, degrading ('filthy baby'), mentions lando watching (something jealous), lewis + max + lando + daniel scene at the end.
song rec: agora hills by doja cat (i've been playing this song endlessly now)
note: i know i'm not taking any requests atm but god did i want some exhibitionist!danny. anon, forgive me if this is way below what you've expected but i've done my best xx
something sinful (smut) masterlist
a - n masterlist
o - z masterlist
if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out
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she hadn’t expected herself to act like this. in a club restroom, of all places. 
but she was so drawn and drunk on him that she couldn’t find herself to give a fuck. her mouth humming around his thick cock as daniel exhaled sharply and muttered beneath his breath. 
“fuck, such a good fuckin’ doll f’me,” he swore, his half-lidded eyes peering down at her with nothing but lust. “suckin’ me off in a club bathroom— y’really wanna get caught, huh?” 
her eyes nearly shed tears as she inhaled the last of the oxygen she could consume, the tip of his cock resting at the back of her throat as her tongue swirled on the underside of his cock.
the echoes of daniel’s groaning remained inside the bathroom. the couple were thankful for the privacy of this place— as if this public place was meant to be shagged on by two desperate people. 
“you should see yourself, princess,” daniel moaned as she began bobbing her head, “sucking me off in a bathroom where some drivers can walk into— like you want them to see you.” 
her legs instinctively shut and rubbed against each other, desperately finding a way to scratch the itch in between her legs as she moaned. the vibration of her mouth made him groan deeply. 
“yeah? you really want that huh? filthy baby,” daniel taunted her. “wan’ them to see you? wanna remind them that you’re my filthy girl?” he grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her away from his cock, making her cry quietly at the sharp pain of her roots and the lack of cock on her mouth. 
her skin met the cold marble tiles of the sink, feeling his hands bruising her hips as he slid into her. she let out a shrill cry, his cock bottoming out inside her cunt. 
“god, baby you’re so fuckin’ divine,” daniel thrusted his cock inside her, his length reaching and hitting her sensitive spot repeatedly as she cried in pleasure. “yeah- let it all out. you like this, hm? you like this cock inside of your cunt?”
“fuck- daniel, yes!” she exclaimed, holding onto her dear life as he continued to fuck her from behind.
the australian took a hold of both her arms and held them behind her, watching her tits bounce in front of him with grace and filth that he hadn’t expected to act on.
his hand propped her chin up and tapped on it lightly, “look at you,” he demanded quietly, “open your eyes pretty girl.” 
as if she was in a drunken haze, her lust blown eyes opened and trailed down from her bouncing tits to his cock— her mouth drooling at the sight of it sliding out of her. 
“you like that?” daniel chuckled behind her, nipping at her ear as she mewled. “oh you do. you definitely love that, sweetheart— you are such a filthy thing.” 
“and i thought fuckin’ you in front of lando would cut it,” he cooed mockingly, his pace increasing as she babbled about wanting to cum. “turns out you want more to see you, huh?”
“‘m sure they wouldn’t oppose to that,” daniel continued, “could see all of ‘em eye-fucking you when you wear those fuckin’ dresses to the paddock. pierre hadn’t been able to keep his mouth shut about you, either— tellin’ me that you’re hot as fuck. i don’t blame him.”
“and max?” daniel chuckled darkly, “he wants to fuck you too, baby— can you just imagine how it’s gon’ be if he finds out that he can’t have everything he wants just b’cause he’s the champion? i pity the poor man.” 
“maybe lando should warn ‘em,” his cock continued to spear her insides as she screamed silently, her hand holding on to his arm behind her as her cunt throbbed. her walls called for orgasm— yet he continued fucking her like she wasn’t eager to reach her high. “tell ‘em that i’m not the type to share— but to brag, no?” 
“or should we just let them find you here?” he laughed quietly, his mockery turning into a sign of pleasure as he said, “god fuck— baby, cum f’me, yeah? i can feel- god, fuck.”
“fuck danny~” she let out a loud whine, her body reaching her high as she clenched around him. daniel let out a choked moan, his cock twitching and coating her walls white as he reached over to kiss her hard.
the restroom, once filled with filthy words and sounds of desperation and pleasure, fell silent as the music outside continued to be loud enough to cover their heavy breathing. 
but it wasn’t loud enough to not create a scandalous story that was shared amongst the singles of the grid. 
a week after, when daniel arrived before the driver’s pre-race conference began, max and lando gave him a knowing look. the australian returned their expressions with a puzzled one and lewis finally gave up his act and chuckled.
hearing lewis’ laugh, daniel gave them all an annoyed look, “okay, what the fuck is going on?”
max grinned mischievously and leaned against the wall with a smirk. 
“i knew you were into pda,” lando joked, “but i didn’t think you’d go as far as that.” max chuckled at that. 
daniel gave lando a glare. out of all of them, lando shouldn’t be joking about that; not when lando witnessed daniel fuck his girlfriend's brain out before. even the brit knew that but he couldn’t help but laugh.
“we’re just saying,” lewis cleared his throat, “if you wanted us to catch you two so bad, you could’ve just let us join.”
daniel scoffed haughtily, “you fuckin’ wish.” 
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♡ moony’s reminder đŸ…¶ (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa
♡   moony’s reminder 🅮 (explicit edition): @glitterf1
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feral-ballad · 7 months
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Do you choose to love? Or is love something that comes to you unconsciously like how your feet is suddenly frozen at the bottom of the ocean, unable to swim back up and save yourself?
you can’t choose love. love chooses you. love burns in your lungs. love creates a soul in your soul. love is so boundless you can’t look the other way. i can’t look the other way.
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finexbright · 10 months
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.
#as i said i'm only now catching up on what happened at red rocks and honestly i'm just so confused as to#why people are getting hate mail for being at a show???? like unless you were right there at the show you will NOT know what's going on#you can't just ''leave'' a venue because there's security measures ensuring that people don't run and cause a stampede#i get that the team there sucked and should've been much better equipped for an outdoor venue but why the fuck are we blaming the fans????#and then being mad at louis??? yeah i get that his tweet wasn't the best but i'd imagine that he was trying to help out as much as he could#ensuring fans were safe and taken care of. pretty sure he is the one paying all hospital bills and stuff as well#yeah i know he's an artist and he has people doing things for him but also it's louis. he might not have been at ground zero#but i bet he was doing everything he could to help get fans to safety and he had to tweet something amidst all that#just to reassure fans a bit more and he did what he could#besides. i'm sorry but instead of being all ''louis/his team should've done more'' can we all just make sure that the fans#who were actually in that hail storm and who actually got horribly injured and who actually went through such a scary situation#are feeling okay? like why are we arguing about trivial things when what matters the most out of this situation is the fans and their safety#i honestly need people who were not at the venue and people who do not understand how traumatic things can be#to just shut up and log off#anyways to everyone present at red rocks i'm sending you so much love and i'm so sorry something so traumatic happened#i hope everyone is safe and is being treated for their injuries 💌
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pasteilian · 9 months
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Something something I love the idea of Raph learning to love his body and not being so self-conscious about how big he is and learning to own who he is as a person something something and him and Donnie bonding over being ïżŒcarnivores something something
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elektroblues · 1 year
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i just remembered that i dreamt that i visited you for a long weekend and it was so fun but then i woke up😭 fksndkdn
wdym dreamt you were literally on my couch hanging out w ozzy last weekend đŸ§â€â™€ïž
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takami-takami · 3 months
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HELP I'VE HAD A THOUGHT
This post, right, where we discussed how babygirl needs to please obtain even the slightest bit of fashion sense Keigo please.
SO
Imagine if you will. Keigo gets into a relationship with you, and you agree to keep it on the down low for the sake of both of your privacy. He knows how to be subtle, of course, so this is all well and good.
Except.
Except for the fact that someone eventually notices that hey, Hawks' outfits have been... decent lately??
And that's how your relationship goes public. Because you put him in a respectably appealing outfit.
- magpie anon ✩
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
People will see this man color coordinating and wearing a pair of nice darkwash jeans with a cut that actually flatters his body type and they start squinting. "This isn't right......" LMAOOOO
The day the press sees him wearing a scarf over a slim-fit, black, thigh-length coat, they start genuinely asking him if he's okay in press interviews.
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