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embrosegraves · 6 months

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ℕ𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕃𝕖𝕔𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕤

Charles Leclerc x Reader (implied she/her) Charles and Reader name their daughters the same order as the Leclerc brothers.

Mr Charles “Girl Dad” Leclerc

Warnings: Extreme use of the red heart emoji, IT'S SO LONG I'M SO SORRY, also watch out for Google translate lmao don't trust them to be exact

Still not the best at smaus but I'm working on it (between every 'post' will be a timeskip of an unspecified amount of time. my brain can't handle doing maths more than it needs to.)

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youruser Baby Leclerc Loading...

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yourBff I'm so ready to be an Aunty → youruser One of the best ❤️

user omgomgomgomgomgomg user Is it a girl or a boy? → youruser We're waiting until the birth to find out user GUYS CHARLES MIGHT BE A GIRL DAD

carlossainz55 Charles is gonna be out of a seat soon → charles_leclerc they're going to take your seat actually → youruser please don't encourage this, they aren't even born yet

Liked by racerbia, sebastianvettel and others

youruser As of Nov 8 2026, please welcome Lorelei Manon Haydée Pascale Leclerc ❤️❤️ Charles and I are so incredibly excited to share this chapter of our lives with everyone however we plan on keeping Little Lori's face completely hidden until she can tell us otherwise. We ask that you respect our decision and that you do not go out of your way to find out what she looks like ❤️

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landonorris Hey there Little Lori Leclerc → youruser ❤️

carlossainz55 Bienvenida Pequeña Belleza translated Welcome Little Beauty → charles_leclerc Uncle Chilli reporting for duty? → carlossainz55 Of Course!

leclerc_pascale When can I see my precious grandbaby❤️ → charles_leclerc I will facetime you Maman ❤️

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youruser Round Two LETS GO

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pierregasly Another gossip buddy!!! → youruser Our gossip sessions are about to be so much cooler!

user ANOTHER ONE!! → user ok dj khalid user are you waiting to find out the gender again? → youruser ✨oui✨ user please be another girl, i need charles to be purely a girl dad

maxverstappen1 this one will be in a redbull i can feel it → youruser oh god not you too

Liked by LeclercLorenzo, leclerc_pascale and others

charles_leclerc Papa and Manon Spa Night (so Mama can try to relax before baby is born)

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youruser you have mastered the towel turban my love → youruser Lori looks so cute 😭❤️

user Charles "Girl Dad" Leclerc coming in clutch → user he's in his element user be honest /youruser did you teach him the towel turban? → youruser i mean, not on purpose? he's watched me do it so often i guess he just, learnt??? user I love how squishy she looks MY HEART--

lilymhe this qualifies as Charles' official invite to Girls Night™ → youruser i'll add him to the groupchat lmao → charles_leclerc yeah babyyyyyy

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youruser And on October 17 2027, the world said let there be Charlène Madeleine Héloïse Pascale Leclerc ❤️❤️ Once again, we are so so so excited to share our growing family with the world. As we did for little Lori, we will not be sharing baby ChiChi's face until she can tell us otherwise. We are so grateful that everyone respected our wishes with Lori and we ask that you respect them once more. Love Always ❤️

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LeclercLorenzo Might be early but I'm sensing a trend... → youruser 👀/charles_leclerc → charles_leclerc a trend you say?? 👀

carlossainz55 Un'altra splendida bambina ❤️ proud of you guys translated Another gorgeous baby girl → charles_leclerc Grazie Fratello ❤️ translated Thankyou Brother → youruser Grazie Chilli ❤️

leclerc_pascale Another granddaughter to spoil ❤️❤️ → youruser I fear you'll put Char out of a job Maman 😂 → charles_leclerc you cannot spoil her as much as me! 😠❤️

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charles_leclerc My Precious Girls, how your Papa loves you

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youruser My Loves 😭❤️

user Another classic Charles "Girl Dad" Leclerc moment → user omg I saw them the other day and the way Charles looks at Lori and ChiChi 😍🥰 user Charles is so in love with his girls it make me feel warm and fuzzy inside → youruser makes me wanna have another lmao → user SO REAL FOR THIS → charles_leclerc oh? 😏😏

lilymhe Why can't we have this? /alex_albon → alex_albon our sons are literally your personal bodyguards... I can't even kiss you without their permission → charles_leclerc he misses you 😂😂

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youruser 3 is a magic number

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pierregasly Do you guys ever stop? → youruser who? → pierregasly you and charles → youruser no i mean who asked?

user has anybody noticed that the age gap between each leclerc baby is basically the EXACT same as the leclerc brothers? → user OMG I WAS GONNA SAY youruser before you ask lovey /user once again we're waiting for the birth ❤️ → user honestly at this point i think everyone knows it's gonna be a girl liked by youruser user Okay, they definitely have a theme going on here with Lorenzo and Lorelei, and then literally Charles and Charlène. this one is gonna be named after Arthur i know it

charles_leclerc One more after this? → youruser no <3

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youruser Say hello to our newest arrival, Artemis Marinette Helena Pascale Leclerc ❤️❤️ born on October 15 2030 For the third time, Charles and I invite you to meet our (now complete) family! Just as we did with little Lori and Baby ChiChi, Mini Artie's face will be hidden until she can tell us otherwise. Forever grateful that everyone is so understanding of all our daughters' privacy, thank you all so much! get ready to see a whole bunch of the Leclerc Sisters on your feed from now on❤️

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carlossainz55 I can't keep commenting in another language now, you used all three that I know → charles_leclerc sounds like a you problem mate → youruser be grateful we're only having three kids Carlos

sebastianvettel One more for the collection → youruser my daughters are not like your cars and their bond girl names → charles_leclerc i'll be honest, i did laugh a little

LeclercLorenzo Some might say I... called it. → youruser don't even, you knew when we told you about naming Little Lori → LeclercLorenzo let me live in my delusion

kimimatiasraikkonen 👍 → youruser never change Kimi ❤️

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charles_leclerc At least Mini Artie likes to kart 🫠❤️

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georgerussell63 I think it's hilarious that not even your mini me likes karting → youruser it is the funniest thing to watch as Char sulks because of it → pierregasly I can only imagine 😂😂 → charles_leclerc what is this, bully Charles day?

user Mini Artie is gonna carry on the family legacy → user can you imagine omg youruser come back home the kids miss you → user i had to double check that this was ACTUALLY the mother of his children liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, youruser and others user I see no one else has realised that all three of the girls birthdays are THE DAY AFTER the person they're named after. → youruser believe me, that wasn't planned ((it was harder to plan than it should've been))

youruser I love you so much Char. Best father, best husband ❤️ → charles_leclerc Je t'aime encore plus, Ma Chère. Best mother, Best wife ❤️ translated I love you more, My Dear

holy shit that was long jesus christ.

uhhhhhh hope you enjoyed? reblogs and likes would be much appreciated because this took me SO MUCH LONGER THAN I THOUGHT IT WAS GOING TO

#formula 1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #reblog with tags i missed please and thank you

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evanchantingpeters · 11 days

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How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 1)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Genre ─ Smut/fluff, Romance

Summary ─ Y/N is fresh in East Hollywood, LA. After a major life overhaul, she’s ready to dive into a new chapter. So, when she hits the town for a night out with friends, she unexpectedly crosses paths with none other than actor Evan Peters. Y/N tries to keep her cool and act all nonchalant, but damn, Evan’s interest throws her for a loop. Their first meeting? Total tension and flirtation, hinting at an evening full of surprises.

Disclaimer ─ In Part 1 of the series, the main characters are introduced, setting the stage for the encounter of Evan and Y/N to unfold and the sexual energy between them to build up. Things get super steamy and smutty in Part 2.

Warnings (for Part 2) ─ Obscene language, semi-public, dry humping, oral (both receiving), fingering, overstimulation, handjob, nudes, handjob, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, rough sex, extra smutty—you guys know the drill :)

Word count ─ 3.8K

18+ > If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

You step out of the shower, steam stirring around you as you wrap your hair turban-style in a towel. The anticipation of a proper night-out since you made the bold move to quit your job in Europe and pursue another life in the US tingles in your veins. It feels like forever since you’ve let loose, and tonight promises to be nothing short of epic.

Plopping down onto your bed, you grab your go-to jar of coconut body butter from the dresser. You squeeze a generous dollop onto your palm and rub your hands together. The creamy texture blends in as you work it onto your skin, leaving it smooth and oh-so-soft.

As you immerse yourself in your ritual, you hear the familiar buzz of a FaceTime call. Glancing over at your bedside table, you see “Adria,” your friend’s name, glowing on the screen. You pick up your phone, still coated in moisturiser, and her face pops up. A look of desperation is written all over her features.

“Hey, girl! What’s up?” you chirp, propping the phone on your desk to finish off your pampering session.

She lets out a dramatic groan. “Send help,” she whines, her voice tinged with panic. “I’m having a meltdown over here. I swear, I got nothing to wear.”

You can’t help but giggle at her faux-crisis. “First-world problems, brain rot,” you tease, sneaking a peek at the heap of clothes behind her. “I see you’ve got quite a selection to pick from.”

Adria pouts, swatting playfully at the camera. “Nah, these don’t count. I need everyone to be ‘she ate and left no crumbs.’ What’re going for tonight? I need some inspo!”

You chuckle sympathetically, holding the phone aloft as you pivot to show her your fit for tonight laid out on your bed. “I’m going for less is more—my thrifted mini satin dress and racing black leather jacket with my military boots and white tube socks for a touch of sass.”

She gives you a strained smile as she takes in your outfit. “Ahh, you pull off that casual vibe effortlessly, babe.”

You flip the camera back to you, shrugging nonchalantly, “I’m casual and proud!”

Adria rolls her eyes with a teasing glint. “Okay, but what about makeup? You gotta glam it up… you know the LA sparkle! That’s how we do it in East Hollywood, at least!”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Nah, I’m feeling the au naturel look. You know I suck with makeup big time—I’d probably end up looking like Pennywise.”

Rather than rehashing your “Why makeup should be banned” manifesto, you choose to dig further into the evening’s plans. “So, who else’s joining us tonight, Ad?”

She rattles off a list of names, both female and male—some known, others unknown—and you nod along. “Gotcha. I’ll be ready by 10.”

“Perf. I’ll swing by to pick you up then. Buckle up for a wild night, biyyyatch!” she exclaims, wiggling her brows at you.

You let out a choked laugh as you observe her grimacing. “Alrighty, catch you soon!”

Once you hang up, you slip into your outfit and let your hair fall loose, fluffing it up for a bit of volume. No need for fancy blowouts tonight—you’re all about that breezy, air-dried look.

With a spritz of perfume and a final check in the mirror, you grab your essentials and head out into the dazzling city lights.

As you strut into the club with your gang, the uplifting beats hit you like a wave of energy. The nostalgic tunes of early 2000’s R&B thump in your chest, urging you to groove with every step. You all weave through the sea of nightclubbers, the party mode building up inside you like a pressure cooker ready to explode.

“Let’s hit the bar!” Tommy, one of the guys and Adria’s boyfriend, shouts over Missy Elliot. You all nod in agreement, eager to keep the high spirits flowing with some booze.

You slither through more partygoers who dance erratically, all while juggling their drinks. Some move smoothly to the rhythm, while others simply jiggle around out of tune.

Neon lights flash and strobe, casting an electric glow over the bartender as he polishes a row of whiskey glasses with cool confidence. A cheeky smile plays on his lips as you hop onto an empty stool before him.

“What can I get you started?” he roars over the music, his voice cutting through the din.

“Coronas all around,” you holler, matching his tone with equal fervour. You hand him a wad of cash chipped in by everyone.

“Coming right up.” With a flick of his wrist, he expertly pops the cap off the bottle, sliding them your way with a wink.

“Thanks,” you mouth, shooting him a grin before heading back to your friends with a tray.

You take a long, satisfying gulp, the crisp taste of beer quenching your thirst. With your beverage in hand, you pace to the dance floor, your friends in tow only metres away.

Your hips swing in harmony with the melody, and your feet glide effortlessly across the ground. Heads turn and whispers follow your path. Some even reach out, uttering unintelligible words, or brush against your shoulder as you pass by.

Ignoring the distractions, you grab Adria and Jasmine, dragging them into the heart of the dance floor while the rest of the group forms a circle around you. The music engulfs you, momentarily sweeping away the grim memories of your pre-relocation life.

With each song that blares through the speakers, your body twists and twirls with fluid grace, each move perfectly timed to the tempo of the music. In that moment, you feel more alive, more liberated than ever before.

As time trickles by, the music continues to pump and the lights swirl around you. You notice Joseph, the lone blond dude in the squad, inching closer and closer to you as the night stretches on.

“Heyo, Y/N! How’s it going?” he greets you with a tap on the shoulder, his voice rumbling near your ear.

“Hey! All good now. How’s you?” you retort with a tight-lipped smile, bringing your Corona to your lips for another sip.

“Now that I’m chatting with you, much better!” he quips back, a hint of mischief in his tone. “How are you liking the States?”

Just as you’re about to respond, joyous screams erupt from Adria and a couple of other girls from your group, catching your attention. Before you can fully process what’s happening, Adria dashes toward you and jumps into your arms, nearly knocking you off balance.

“Girl! Are you on Molly or something? What’s going on?” you mock, smoothing out your dress on the cleavage before you start flashing whoever’s at close vicinity.

“Omg, you won’t believe it!” Adria squeaks, frantically clapping her hands.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Try me.”

“Ahh, my fangirling is through the roof right now! Evan Peters is here,” she cries out, bouncing up and down, squeezing your hand tightly.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Who?”

“Evan Peters, Y/N! The hottie from American Horror Story… Kai Anderson, Cult? Kit Walker, Asylum? Seriously, don’t these ring any bells? Umm… Dahmer? Come on—you’ve watched that series!” she insists, her voice pitch rising as she tries to jog your memory.

A flicker of recognition crosses your face as your friend’s description sinks in. “Oh, right, Evan Peters,” you concede with a faint smile. “I remember now…And?”

Adria’s eyes widen, her mouth falling open in disbelief. “And?? He’s in the same space as us, breathing the same oxygen, Y/N!”

You shake your head, trying to inject a dose of reality into her Hollywood-induced haze. “Okay, but let’s be real here. He’s a mega star, so totally out of league. I mean, we’ve got about as much chance with him as a blue whale does with climbing Mount Everest,” you quip and fold your arms, narrowing your eyes at her. “And you’ve got a boyfriend, in case you forgot.”

Adria’s enthusiasm deflates slightly as she’s reminded of Tommy. “It’s not the same,” she protests sheepishly, fiddling with her bracelet. “You know how celebrity crushes work. How can I not crave Evan when he’s graced the world with his Tate Langdon role?”

You can’t help but laugh at her delirium. “Ugh, Adria, it’s giving obsession and borderline restraining order from Peters if you keep this up. Let’s just focus on having a blast tonight and drop the celebrity fantasies, okay?”

A couple of hours melt away, and the energy of the dance floor begins to wane. Most of your friends retreat to a nearby table to freshen up. But not you. With two others by your side, you’re on a mission to keep the party alive, letting the music guide your body with a fierce determination.

Mid-twirl, though, your eyes snag on something unexpected—a figure lingering at the fringes of the dance floor, his attractive gaze burning into you like a laser beam, sending a bolt of lightning down your back. It takes a moment for you to register who it is, but when you do, your heart kicks into overdrive.

Evan Peters.

You try to play it cool, biting down on the inside of your cheek to stifle the grin that’s itching to break free. You try to pass it off as just a coincidence, a trick of the light or a delulu figment of your imagination, but when you steal another glance in his direction, you find his eyes still trained on you. This time around, he offers a timid smile.

Your throat feels like it’s swallowed a golf ball as you sense his eyes fixed on you. Desperate to shake off the sudden self-consciousness, you rummage through your tiny shoulder bag for your phone. Your fingers jitter as you feign interest in your screen, scrolling aimlessly through your main menu or typing out gibberish in your notes app.

But even as you try to stay composed, his stare weighs on you like a ton of bricks. Are you tripping? Feeling more awkward and exposed than ever (you don’t have Evan Peters laying eyes on you every day), you motion to your friends that you’re heading to the restroom. Anything to escape the spotlight, even if it’s only for a sec.

This time, you bulldoze through the crowd, head low, with the toilets being your last glimmer of hope for salvation. Or so you think. Just as you’re about to slip away, a warm, soft hand gently closes around your wrist, halting you in your tracks.

Every muscle in your body tenses as you slowly turn to confront the person obstructing your way. And there he is, Evan Peters in the flesh, standing before you with an enigmatic grin playing at the corners of his lips.

Your heart leaps into your throat when you face him, every nerve in your body suddenly on high alert. Your mind races a mile a minute—Is this real life? Did you manifest this? Is Evan Peters actually in front of you?

Fuck, Adria’s right. He’s hot as hell, you ruminate, feeling your breath clutching in your throat.

Before you can even gather your thoughts, he greets you with a seductive rasp. “Hey.” His eyes seal with yours in a way that makes your knees turn into jelly.

I just saw you and heard you in person, Evan! Scrap everything I said to Adria. Forget the restraining order. Just slap the handcuffs on me, and do whatever you want... Erhm, I mean, take me into custody cause staring at you should definitely be illegal.

You freeze, unable to tear your eyes away from his handsome dark brown (almost black) eyes and silky tousled curls. A feeble “Hi” is all you manage, your voice barely above a whisper as a nervous flutter stomps onto your stomach.

“Having a good time?” he checks in, his smile widening by the second.

“The asphyxiation I feel right now must be a sure sign that I’m enjoying myself, right?” you reply, fanning your hand in front of your face for dramatic effect.

His throaty laughter bubbles up from deep within him, the sound instantly cranking up your heartbeat. It’s genuine and infectious, like he’s letting down his guard and inviting you into his world, flashing those perfect teeth like they’re on a billboard.

“If you’re suffocating from excitement, then you must be doing something right. But don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye out on you. If you turn purple, I’ll dial 911,” he teases, gently lifting your chin with his index finger and giving you a full inspection with feigned seriousness. “Nope, we’re good. So far, all I see is beauty, no signs of death.”

You can feel your cheeks heating up with embarrassment, so you instinctively lower your head, hoping to hide your rose-tinted face.

You battle to keep it together, but the fact that his hand hasn’t budged from your wrist since your eyes met screams, ‘fainting spell incoming.’ As if that’s enough, his thumb traces soft circles on your skin, sending goosebumps up your arm. “You make me cringe, do it again,” you joke, and you both share a laugh.

“Alright, let’s see what card I should pull next. Here it comes, drumroll—on behalf of everyone in here, I testify to your: ‘I got some serious moves and conquered the dance floor, but I need a breather now.’” he rambles and raises his free hand in mock ovation, his grin laced with mischief.

You chuckle, a surge of confidence brewing within you. “Well, it takes the greatest of them all to verify this. A lifetime of dancing lessons didn’t go down the drain, I guess. I appreciate your testament, sir, and the panel’s verdict,” you coo, bowing theatrically.

Once again, his laughter fills the space between you, warm and hearty.

After a few minutes of silence and a staring contest that makes it agonising for you to breathe, you finally utter, “I said this would be my night, and, apparently, I meant that,” discreetly eyeing him from head to toe, semi-drooling.

“Yeah? Any highlights of the night?” he inquires, his tone dripping with curiosity, and you can’t resist playing along after letting your thoughts slip out loud.

“Nothing yet. But I’m counting on your highlighter to illuminate my way,” you spill out, playfully tilting your head to the side. A sly grin spreads across your lips as you throw the bait, hoping he’ll keep up with your pun game.

His “strike” is immediate as he edges closer to you. “Believe it or not, I’ve got one on me that can change your night from the inside out,” he shoots back, his smile growing, clearly on the same innuendo-laden wavelength as you. You’re a match made in flirtatious banter heaven, true that.

“I need some inside work, that’s for sure. Glad you’re volunteering,” you reply, feeling a rush of heat flood through you at his words. Then, you quickly transition, turning his wrist stroking into a handshake as you introduce yourself.

He hums, gently taking your hand in his, his smile stretching wide enough to reveal his adorable dimples that only add to his charm. “Evan.”

“I know,” you admit, unable to contain your broad smile. “But just an FYI, I haven’t binged-read your fanfics or analysed our astrology charts to see if we’re soulmates. I’ve gone as far as watching Dahmer. Stellar performance, by the way,” you blurt out, still shaking his hand.

He rolls his lips into his mouth to suppress another giggle. “Okay, chill. No need to prove you’re not a psycho. Wanna grab a drink to cool off?”

“No need to ask,” you fire back with equal enthusiasm, both of you grinning like kids in a candy store. Without hesitation, you just follow his lead, diving headfirst into the moment with a reckless abandon, thinking, ‘I’m all in, no matter what crazy idea you’ve got up your sleeve, baby boy.’

He cups your hand in his, his palm firm and reassuring, as he guides you through the throngs of people toward a quieter bar setup located upstairs in the club. The touch makes your head spin, feeling the familiar sensation of heat pooling between your thighs, leaving your undies all moist. You’ve felt sparks like this before, but never quite so intensely, and certainly not so quickly with anyone else.

As you trail behind him, you can’t help but lightly graze the back of his hand, mapping the pathways of his veins with your fingertips. You love a baby face paired with strong arms—he’s exactly your kind of man.

“Maybe it’s better…” he begins once you reach the bar, but the music swells out of the blue, drowning out the remainder of his sentence.

You involuntarily scrunch up your nose and squint, struggling to concentrate and hear him over the blasting tunes. “Come again, sorry?”

Before you can react, he draws closer to you. His breath is warm and tickly against your ear, causing a tremor through your entire body. Not to mention his voice: husky and velvety, making your cunt pulsate for him already.

Damn, things are moving at lightning speed, and you’re struggling to keep pace.

As Evan gets nearer, you catch a subtle yet alluring whiff of cinnamon and cologne. But, actually, it’s the natural scent exuding from his body that has a chokehold over you. Those pheromones he unleashes are like full-blown intoxication, making you lightheaded, your pulse thudding.

You lean in to mimic his gesture and whisper to his ear, but you’re pleasantly surprised when he gently clasps your hand, signalling for you to hold on. As he removes his earplugs, he explains, “Sorry I’ve got very sensitive ears.”

You chuckle, a wicked spark in your eye as you lift a tuft of hair to reveal your own ear protectors. “Great minds think alike,” you cheer.

“No, you didn’t,” he exclaims, eyes widened as you burst out laughing in sync.

As your laughter subsides, Evan’s expression shifts. His eyes bore into yours with a smouldering intensity as if he’s on the verge of revealing a long-held secret or daring to make a move.

But before you can form coherent thoughts or pluck up the courage to speak, Evan blinks fast, breaking the spell. “Shall we get those drinks at last? What’d you like?”

You clear your throat, trying to snap out of your nasty thoughts with Evan being the main character. “I’m down for another Corona, thanks.”

He flashes a quick two-finger salute to the bartender before turning back to you, his lips curving up in a cute, crooked smile. “So, who are you here with tonight?”

“Just some friends,” you confess, your voice trailing off as he raises his bottle to clink it against yours in a toast. His eyes remain glued on yours as he takes a sip, his defined jawline and slender neck at full display begging for your kisses. The intensity of his gaze makes your legs all wobbly. “A-and yourself?” you stammer, breaking eye contact to nervously trace a circular pattern on the rim of the bottle glass with your fingers.

“Same, I came to visit friends during my break. I’m flying back to Vancouver in ten days to carry on filming Tron.”

Your grip tightens around the cool glass of your drink as Evan drops the bombshell. You feel the liquid catch in your throat as you choke, a sudden surge of panic hitting your chest. You cough, the sound harsh and uncontrolled, your body reacting instinctively to the news.

“Canada?” you manage to croak out between coughs, your voice hoarse. You struggle to swallow past the lump, your throat raw and constricted. Your chest heaves as you fight to regain control.

“Y/N, are you okay?” he asks with a sense of urgency, his forehead creased with deep lines of worry. Leaning in, his eyes search yours for any sign of distress. His hand reaches out to steady you, giving you comforting back rubs.

You nod weakly, your eyes watering from the effort of suppressing another coughing fit.

“Let me fetch some water for you,” he offers, his voice soft and soothing. He sprints to the bar, returning seconds later with a glass of water and a concerned frown etched on his forehead.

“Thanks,” you mumble, accepting the glass with a trembling hand, keeping the bottle of beer in your other hand. The cool water soothes your parched throat, and you feel a sense of relief wash over you as Evan tenderly ruffles your hair and massages your scalp to calm you down. Hint: his hands on you work wonders.

“I’m okay,” you assure him, looking up to meet his gaze again, your heart hammering. Everything else fades away, leaving only the reassuring presence of Evan before you.

You can practically sense the sexual tension between you. His stare flickers between your lips and eyes, his own mouth slightly parted. It’s like a silent invitation that hangs between you like a charged wire ready to ignite, daring you to take a plunge and smother his face with kisses. And then suck his dick so hard that his stomach caves in like a Caprisun.

It doesn’t matter that you’ve just met; he has you at hello and you’d spread your legs for this man without a second thought…

You gulp as you realise he’s almost inches away from you. You shudder when his fresh breath—an irresistible blend of mint and alcohol—wafts into my mouth, blowing stray strands of hair off your face. “You’re leaving in ten days?” you sigh, puckering your lips and giving him a puppy-eyed look.

“Yes, but I’m still here,” he whispers, his eyes fixed on your lips as he leans into your stool. With a single knee, he slowly splits your legs and slides in between them.

“You’re here now. Wanna be at my place next?” you suggest, and he stares back at your eyes with a crooked smirk, his lips curled mischievously.

Without warning, his lips brushed against yours, throwing your arousal off the chart. The torturously slow pace that his lips slide along yours makes your sex leap, pop, and drip. Soft moans escape your bodies as he grabs your ass to pull you in, squeezing it along the way as his chest cushions firmly against your breasts.

He smiles against your lips as you tangle your fingers in his hair and part your mouth, giving him the green light to roughen the kiss. His hard rock boner already presses against your wet centre when his tongue invades your mouth with primitive force, swirling and twirling with yours in a passionate dance.

“How long to get to yours?” he grunts out of breath, wincing from the uncomfortable angle his stiff cock has now taken in his trousers.

“It’s roughly a ten-minute ride, give or take,” you pant, adjusting the hem of your dress.

“Off we go.”

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beansprean · 11 months

Text

My Familiar’s Ghost part 36

Masterpost

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Tight shot of the attic by an exterior wall. The wall is partially patched with haphazardly placed two by fours, more planks stacked on the floor underneath. On the left, an ornate wooden chair sits by a tall shape covered by a white sheet. On the right is a couch half-covered in a sheet, a standing lamp, an empty picture frame, a snowboard, and several cardboard boxes. The large box in the foreground is labeled '80s crap' and is propped partially open by a lava lamp, a beaded necklace and dancing hula girl sitting on top. Ghost Guillermo is laying on his side in the middle of the floor, head against the 80s crap box, covering his face and moaning like a real ghost. The black wraith energy around him has almost formed and entire cloak and hood shape, still ragged and morphing around the edges. He whines, 'Ohh... that was so embarrassing... What the fuck is wrong with meee... I wanna die!! ...Again...' 1b. Close up on Guillermo as he uncovers his face to glance up at the label on the box. 1c. Repeat. Guillermo tosses his head back in renewed anguish, chin crumbling and hands curling into fists as he wails, 'This is where I belong! I'm 80s crap!!'

2a. Reverse shot of the other side of the attic, showing the stairs coming up in the far corner. On the right, (further to Guillermo's left) is a Wii Fit, a small box labeled '2000', a mannequin torso, a wooden trunk, and a tall cardboard box labeled 'fish tank, upside down. On the left is a support beam, covered canvasses, and a rolled-up rug. Nandor appears at the top of the stairs as if having crawled up them as quietly as possible, leaning in with one hand on the attic floor and the other clutching the banister. He is wearing knee high leather boots and a white robe monogrammed with the Monaco Hotel and Casino logo and has his hair wrapped up in a towel turban. He asks, with some confusion and concern, 'You are what?' In the bottom corner of the foreground, Guillermo's head pops up in shock. 2b. Reverse shot over Nandor's shoulder. Guillermo immediately snaps 'Nope' and voops into a glowing blue vapor, pouring himself into the dancing hula girl nearby. 2c. Reverse shot, wider version of 2a showing the entire left side of the attic and stairs. Nandor marches fully up the stairs and into the room towards Guillermo, fists swinging at his sides to steel his nerves. He announces, 'Guillermo, it is very childish to possess a sexy dancing hula lady when I am trying to speak with you!' In the bottom corner of the foreground, Guillermo-as-hula-girl turns around with a scowl, fists clenched, and mutters angrily 'I swear to... The one time I was counting on him to avoid a conversation...' /end ID

#wwdits #my familiars ghost #nandermo #mlm #ghost guillermo #guillermo de la cruz #nandor the relentless #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fx #my art #fanart #fan comic #image described

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feelingf1 · 6 months

Text

look after you - daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader

summary: you’ve had a rough week, but daniel is there to help you through it

note: this was a request, i can’t find the ask, but someone just requested a comfort story, hope you enjoy! it’s short and sweet, just while i get back to writing <3

—————

The tears soaked your soft silk pillowcase. You were curled up in a ball of pink flowered duvets, like a caterpillar in its cocoon.

You felt empty. You couldn’t understand why. You had a great week last week, traveling to Brazil to see Daniel race. But this week? You didn’t even have the energy to get out of bed.

Your phone constantly buzzed on the dresser in the corner of your room. You knew most of those messages were from Daniel, and guilt built up in you, knowing that you were probably worrying him, but you didn’t have the energy to move.

So you went back to sleep, again.

You were awoken by a soft shaking to your shoulder. You opened your eyes and met those of the beautiful brown eyes of your partner, Daniel.

His hand cupped your cheek, “Hey, my love. Are you okay?”

You tried to smile, but your lip quivered, and before you knew it, you were crying again. You pulled the neck of your hoodie up over your face to try and hide, but Daniel cupped your face and tilted it upwards.

“Please, tell me what’s wrong doll.”

You were definitely crying now. “I’m just exhausted and sad. I don’t really know why. It’s too much for me to even move or get up. I’m sorry for-”

Daniel pressed his finger to your lip. “Don’t apologize baby. It’s been a tough day for you, yeah you had me worried, but I’m here now and I’ll help you. ‘Kay?”

You nodded, a smile growing on your face. No matter how shit you felt, Danny could always make you feel so much better.

“Okay, shower first.” You groaned loudly, knowing how much effort that would take. Daniel scooped you up into his arms and lifted you into the bathroom, setting you down gently on the sink and pulling your clothes off, before taking off his own.

“You’re coming in?” You asked.

“Yeah, I’ll wash you baby.” You felt so blessed to have somebody like him. “Thanks.” You whispered.

He lifted you into the shower, placing you on your feet. You leaned back into his body as he washed you, softly scrubbing your strawberry scented body wash all over you. He massaged your head whilst he shampooed it. He made you feel like a queen.

He wrapped you in a heated towel when you got out, giggling as he struggled to wrap your hair into the turban. You couldn’t help but giggle too, pieces of hair falling out every side. He dried you so delicately, like you were a glass doll about to shatter. He then wrapped you in your favourite clothes.

Also known as his clothes.

He swooped you up bridal style again, carrying you downstairs to your shared kitchen. He plopped you up on the kitchen island whilst he got himself busy, readying something for you.

You lay on your back on the island, studying the plastered ceiling like it was the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen.

“So, wanna talk about how you’re feeling?” Daniel asked, rummaging through the cupboards.

“Uh, not really, to be honest.” You sighed.

“Okay, then we won’t mention it.” Daniel replied. He grabbed his phone, turning on Taylor Swift, before busying himself again.

You hummed along to the music, watching Daniel’s attempt to scramble eggs. He presented you with a dish that would have horrified most chefs with the sight of it, but you were so grateful, you couldn’t care less.

“Thanks Danny.” You said, making your way off of the counter, collapsing into the tall stool. He brushed your hair while you ate, making sure to put your oil through the tips too.

After you finished your eggs, you leaned back into him, closing your eyes as he placed his arms around you. You felt so much better than you had this morning, all thanks to him.

“I’m so lucky to have you.” You whispered.

“No baby, I’m lucky to have you.” He replied, placing soft kisses to your head.

“Yeah, but I should be the one minding you, after your first triple header with your hand. I feel guilty-”

Daniel cut you off, not wanting to hear your apologies. “I love taking care of you. I’ll gladly take care of you until we’re grey and old, having to shout at each other because of our terrible hearing.”

You giggled and a tear slid down your cheek, but this time it was a tear of happiness and gratitude.

“Fancy watching a movie?” Daniel asked, grabbing your plate.

“Only if it’s-”

“- La La Land” Daniel said, finishing your sentence. He knew how obsessed you were with that movie.

He picked you up once again and you headed for the living room, to binge watch movies for the evening.

—————

#formula 1 #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #feelingf1 #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel riccardo imagine #daniel ricciardo

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ladymarycrawley · 7 months

Text

Pampering night - John Stones

Not based on any request but sth I felt like writing because I was in a fluffy mood plus I've been missing that goofy tall man way too much 🥰

Warning: none, a lot of fluff

Tag list: @prideofpd @masonxomount @johnstonesfc

Small things are what make life worth living, or what make it a little more bearable at least.

Going back home after a long day at work, looking forward to a hot shower was among those little things aforementioned: that new rose scented shower gel waiting for you in the cubicle as well as the new hair mask you bought a couple of days ago made you eager to go to your nest.

When you inserted the key in the front door's lock to open it you were met with darkness and silence, meaning John was still out for training.

The first thing you did was taking off your shoes, a little satisfied moan following that gesture, as you left your bag on the armchair at the entrance where you would usually leave your things.

Secondly you went upstairs, entering your bedroom where you got rid of your clothes ready to have your well deserved shower. You walked in your bathroom and turned on the faucet to let some warm water roll down as you took your phone to message your boyfriend to let him know you were home.

A couple of minutes later you tested the water's temperature with your hand and you smiled when it got warm enough for you to hop in.

Needless to day you took all your time to wash your body and your hair, humming to the pop jams that were serving as the perfect soundtrack for that relaxing moment. You were all by yourself meaning you could sing out loud in peace, not worrying about bothering anyone and that made you feel so free.

As a natural consequence you didn’t hear when John came back home, an hour after you more or less. He smiled when entering your shared house as the sound of music mixed with your voice reached his ears.

The Manchester City player left his duffle bag downstairs near yours and walked towards the kitchen to get a glass of water, before following the noise that welcomed him and that would have led him upstairs.

When he got there you got out of the shower and turned off the music, wincing when his tall figure met your glance.

"Hello there"

"Hi…you were so quiet I didn't hear you coming back"

"You're too busy performing your own concert" He giggled, thinking about the 80s tune you were singing your heart out to, while getting closer to your lips.

You whined against him as he kissed your lips sweetly.

"How was your day?" You asked him as usual, walkingto where your divider was to discard your bathrobe on the floor and put on one of those big t-shirts you would usually use as pajamas.

"Yeah good, nothing special…" He answered absentmindedly while abandoning his body on the soft surface of the mattress underneath him. "Kinda tired though"

You popped your head to the side to catch a glimpse of his long legs dangling down the bed.

The only thing you had to get rid off was the towel you had wrapped around your head as a turban but, before that, you walked closer to the bed and slowly lowered your body over his to kiss him on the lips.

"Poor baby boy, it seems like you need some good pampering…"

John knew you too well to know what that pampering you were referring to meant and it was some skin care ritual you were keen on doing every now and then.

"I don't need any masks, thank you"

"The vitamin C one I got the other day would be perfect for you"

"Y/N" He huffed.

"I love you, remember that" You whispered, planting another peck to his lips as your towel fell from your head, causing his face to be covered with the cloth and your wet hair.

"Sorry babe" You laughed, trying to throw your hair back.

"I've read wet hair on your face count as a mask"

"John"

"What?? Not my fault you haven't been keeping up with the latest beauty secrets"

You got up from him to go and dry your hair, leaving the trail of perfume of your shower gel behind you. It was a pleasurable feeling, you felt so light and so careless and that was exactly what you needed to unwind.

Getting back to the bathroom your stare fell on the giant mirror before you where you could see John's figure getting up from the bed and scrolling a bit through his phone before taking off his jumper and dragging himself around the room shirtless.

The sound of the appliance in your hand thankfully covered the loud gulp you emitted at that sight: it was stronger than you, even after a fair while together you couldn’t get used to the perfection he embodied. He felt so good to be true

On his part he was a little shit because he knew how you felt and didn't lose any opportunity to tease you. He got closer to you to stand behind your body. To balance himself he pressed a hand on the counter before you and the other one on your hip bone as he placed his lips on your neck, to be more precise on the spot where your neck met your collarbone.

You sighed and turned off the hair dryer to enjoy his loving cuddles, covering both his hands with yours.

"Are you ready to go back playing?" You asked him, referring to his injury.

John nodded, brushing his nose against your jaw.

"Might be back for the game against Leipzig"

"That's great baby!" You squealed, turning to face him and cupping his face with your hands to kiss him. "So you need a mask to go back on the pitch in all your glamour, ready to defeat your opponents, blinding them with your hotness"

He rolled his eyes knowing full well he couldn’t resist you much longer, he had to give in to the skin care menace.

He stood there, hands on his hips looking kind of hopeless, waiting for you to apply the fabric mask on his face.

"John love, can you bend down a little? Can't reach it"

Every little thing that highlighted your height difference never failed to make him laugh and so he did that time too.

"Gonna sit down" He chuckled while walking backwards towards the the edge of the bed where he sat down to let you do your work. "is this height okay for you, little one?"

"Yeah, thank you" You muttered, a little stung by his jab.

John found you adorable when you got all annoyed and grinned, squeezing your bum affectionately.

"I have to shave actually, can I do it later?"

"No! You should have done it before the mask!"

"I'm still on time! You haven't applied anything yet on me face"

It was now your turn to roll your eyes as you already had the fabric thing in your hands, ready to put it on his features.

"Go ahead then" You bumbled, moving to the side so he could go take his razor. "You don't have to shave, you want to"

"Babe -"

"You know what I think about your beard"

"And you know what I think about it too"

As he was busy doing his thing, you wasted no time and in the meanwhile and applied your lotus flower eye patches under your tired eyes.

You were nothing but perfect in your eyes: two people madly in love doing small ordinary, almost unremarkable things together, made special by the love that kept you together.

That moment no doubt would be impressed in your mind forever but you also wanted to have something material that would have helped you reliving it in the future too so you took your phone to snap a picture of it: John brushing the razor against his upper neck as you wrapped your left arm around his chest, bright pink patches on, holding the phone with your right hand to take the picture.

You smiled looking at the final result on your screen.

"Look how cute we are" You gushed showing him the picture. "Gonna use it as my lockscreen"

John didn't like the idea of you "displaying" your love at the whim of indiscreet eyes, someone that could spy on your private world that was for the two of you only.

"Come on, you once put an x-rated pic as your lockscreen!" You whined referring to a particularly hot photo session where he would use the one he took of him biting on your bum.

"It was just a joke! I put it just to mock you and removed it soon after"

"Yeah just in time for Rúben and Kyle to see it" You grumbled quite bothered by that event.

John, on his side, found it sort of amusing and started giggling "Well, it means I succeeded in taking the piss"

"Ha ha how funny…come on, the mask is waiting for you"

While you were keeping your eye patches posing you basically pushed John to sit on the edge of the bed to apply that damn mask on his face.

"Ok so now you'll keep this for the next 25 minutes and shut that pretty mouth of yours up"

You both had to keep it on for 25 minutes so you took advantage of that time to chill out on your bed: you got seated with your back against the headrest, your legs stretched out as John would use you as his pillow, resting his head on your upper body.

That posture together with the gentle scalp massage your fingers were applying on his head, made him release all the tension built up in the last weeks and ended up falling asleep. The little snores coming out of his mouth borught a genuine smile to your face and removed his phone from his hands. You kept on moving your hand through his curls.

Those small things were what made your life worth living, having your favourite human being by your side to share them with was an added value that felt like the biggest gift life could ever give you.

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ceilidho · 9 months

Note

Okay hear me out: I am a big skincare girl, right? The serums, the cleansers, the moisturisers, the masks, the body moisturisers and exfoliants, all the works. I love pampering myself with things that smell nice and make me feel pretty (results are... Another thing lmao BUT WE'RE NOT TALKING ABOUT THAT).

And you know what I was thinking about? The CoD characters would just lose their minds at this. They're grown men in the military, there's literally no way that they use anything other than 5-in-1 body gel/shampoo/face wash/car wash/floor wash and mayyyyybe sunscreen once in a while because they're all pale daisies that get burnt very easily.

So basically imagine the scene: reader comes out of the shower with a towel turban and starts applying serums in front of the vanity, semi-naked, starts on the body moisturisers and just rubs it in and in and in (BODIES HAVE A LOT OF SKIN THIS IS YOUR SIGN TO MOISTURISE IT) and then one of them walks in on reader and they just. Pop an instant boner. Pretty reader rubing their own body basically naked, smelling nice, pampering themselves? Brain chemistry is immediately altered, "my hands look like this so hers can look like that" meme, etc., just absolutely feral military man who might or might not have developed three different kinks in approximately ten seconds, including domesticity kink. Reader is going to need three showers after that.

(Non-horny but it could also be funny to show CoD characters learning about skincare. "What do you mean I need a different soap for my face and my body? Fuck off I've been doing just fine" vs "So you say this will make my beard soft? Okay, how do I use it".)

sorry I couldn’t answer this before because I was on a flight (probably bad timing to post about that other au idea right before a flight LMAO) but i thought about this the whole time!!!!

Obsessed with the idea of any of the cod characters having a domestic kink bc tbh I can see this across the board with all of them. Also I’ve legit posted about Ghost only using a 5-in-1 before LMAO wait I’ll show below

#cod headcanons #simon ghost riley #cod simon riley #ghost cod

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fkinavocado · 2 years

Note

Naked lhh with only a towel turban on his head coming out of the shower like he knows what he’s doing but acts all innocent 🤭

you deadpanned at him from where you were sitting at your desk, trying to also listen in on the webinar you were attending for your online classes. your webcam was on, but not your mic thankfully so after he pranced around without a care in the world, you finally told him as inconspicuously as possible to put some boxers on. when he didn't react you cleared your throat "harold!"

"hm? thought you said you were in a conference call"

"my mic is muted" you explained, clarifying that you'd been talking to him "ever heard of the concept of underwear?"

harry placed his hands on his hips, giving himself an once over then pursing his lips in mock pensiveness "sounds vaguely familiar..."

you scoffed "would you put some on? you're distracting me"

"why? nothing you haven't seen before" he shrugged

"harry--" you rolled your eyes

"not like i'm hard or anything"

"harry!"

"i mean..." he sat on the bed, not within your laptop's webcam range, but still you tilted it further in the opposite direction as he leaned against the headboard and splayed his meaty thighs apart "you do look hot as fuck with those thick rimmed glasses on"

"no." you shook your head, trying to stop where this was heading but it was too late, he was already touching himself

"ugh. why have you never worn those in bed for me? would love to watch your pretty eyes roll behind them"

you refused to look at him, pretending to pay attention to your webinar, but you could hear the way he spat into his palm and began stroking his hardening cock more vigorously

"wanna feel the cold lenses against my navel when they slide down your nose with how deep i'm fucking that throat"

you closed your eyes and unconsciously crossed your legs for some much needed friction. not even your professor's voice could snap you out of it now

"gonna paint them with my creamy cum, y/n" he groaned loudly "hm? how's that sound? gonna get all pouty that i didn't let you swallow?" when you didn't answer he grabbed the wet towel from around his long curls and tossed it right over your laptop screen, making you gasp

"you jerk! i was watching that!"

"no you weren't. you're too busy clenching and unclenching your thighs together. like the needy slut you are for me" you could hear the smirk in his voice but also just how far gone he was with lust, he wasn't just teasing at this point. he wanted you

you tossed the wet towel back at him and risked a glance in his direction "you better pray no one saw that"

he bit his lower lip "then shut it off already"

"nah. but here's what's gonna happen" you raised an eyebrow at him "you're gonna get right underneath this desk for me and burry your face against my pussy and if you can make me come twice by the time this webinar is finished, i'll keep the glasses on"

he watched you intently, taken aback by your sudden change in demeanor and you could see his cock twitch in his palm as he'd stopped his movements while taking it all in

you honestly said it just to get him to stop messing around, your smug smile on your lips as you turned your chair back towards the laptop but when he literally crawled all the way to you and pushed you further away from the desk to make room, adjusting the chair's height and everything, you took in a deep breath. this webinar was just about to get a whole lot more interesting.

lhh masterlist

#I MEAN FHDHFKSDFLSDFSD #I WENT OVERBOARD A BIT #😅😅😅#not proofread #lhh #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles concept #harry styles prompt #harry styles fic

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beaft · 7 months

Text

i entered the room with a towel turban on and he didn't know who i was

#be shh now

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stevenbasic · 8 months

Text

Growing into the Job, Post 346: A Sunday at Melissa's, p4

The clock was chiming again as the two of us climbed the stairs. Well, she was climbing. I was in her arms. It was, I dunno, nine or something, maybe eleven. I was already exhausted from the morning I’d had. In the past hour I’d found my phone busted, been wrung dry by a hand job into the pool, and - oh yeah - nearly drowned. So, I couldn’t help but take the chance to close my eyes, and luxuriate in her embrace as she carried me. Melissa was so strong, so confident, and this weekend I’d gotten to a place where I could put my pride aside and more easily accept her comforts. But, as relaxed as I was, the first bell toll caused my eyes to shoot open. It felt like it was ringing for me.

“Where’s that clock?” I asked, curious. Hearing it from the kitchen earlier, I would have sworn it was in the great room near the stairs. Now that we were on the stairs, it sounded like it could be coming from the kitchen.

“Shhh, don’t worry about the clock,” Melissa hushed me, smiling down at me warmly, strangely. Anyway, she was bringing me back up to the bedroom for a shower, to clean off the chlorine and whatever remnants of last night still clung crusty to me. And, despite the heat of her body, a cold chill still ran down my spine. I needed a warming up.

Quietly we passed down the open balcony hall that overlooked the great room, through her bedroom and into her en-suite bath. It was done simply but elegantly in creamy stone tiles, with natural light coming in from an overhead skylight. A glass wall separated a walk-in shower from which chrome fixtures and a huge rainhead shower glistened.

With me still in her arms, she turned on the shower and let the water warm. “Can you stand by yourself?” she asked.

“I think so,” I answered, without really even considering why she’d asked. Did you expect me to forget how to stand? Walk? Maybe not too unreasonable; I’d apparently just lost the ability to swim.

With great care she placed me down, and stepped me backwards under the deluge from above. My legs actually were shaky but ahhhhh the water was nice, perfectly warm. Patterned marble tiles were underfoot, larger stone ones lining the walls, while a chrome drain whisked water away. Melissa smiled at my obvious pleasure, still wrapped in a figure-hugging white towel and matching turban. She stood just outside the shower stall, on the other side of a low stone threshold.

“So,” she began, her eyes having already drifted up from my feet, “Do you want to wash yourself or do I get to bathe you?”

“Um,” I started, eyeing the vast selection of gels, shampoos and other assorted bottles and tubes which lined an inset shelf to my left. I was confused by my options and the whiffs I got of her perfume reminded me of how good she was at being a woman, and how inept a man I was.

Was this pheromone 0001.55.6344.gf, .6388.dd or .6349.gd you were using on me at that moment? Maybe a cocktail? Remind me to ask you later.

I crossed my hands in front of me, unsure of myself. “Can you help?” I asked.

“Of course, sweetie,” she beamed, and reached for the handheld spray attachment mounted to the wall. She turned on its water, checked its temperature, and crouched so she could begin to shower my body with its firm spray. “Is this coming out too hard, baby?” she asked, with earnest concern, looking up at me with honest eyes, “I can turn it down if it’s too much.”

“n-no it’s okay,” I answered, glimpsing down between her full breasts. Her towel was tied at the chest, and cleavage jiggled. As if enjoying the attention, she smiled as she adjusted the pressure and temperature making it just that much better. The spray from the shower wand was strong, but felt nice down my chest, up under my arms as she lifted my right wrist, then the left. It felt particularly good when - nnngh - she passed it between my legs, sprayed it up into my nethers. It gave me a jolt of pleasure, the jet pulsing into my scrotum and, goddamn me, I felt a new erection start to swell. The overhead water continued to wash over me as well.

“Well, tell me if it’s too much,” she said, the evenness in her voice and straight face belying the fact that she was obviously paying special attention to my manhood, exciting it with the handheld spray. She tweaked the water pressure again, adjusted the temperature.

My cock responded. Oh my god, that feels amazing, even better.

“That okay?” she asked.

“y-y-yes…” I managed, trying to keep from writhing in pleasure.

“You sure?” she pressed, “You seem so sensitive. If you're uncomfortable I can always just sit you up next to the sink, scrub you up with a washcloth instead.”

What, and make me feel even more like a newborn? “N-no I’m fine,” I assured, my cock betraying my thoughts with an excited throb. She proceeded to firmly spritz my whole body with the wand, passing it up my sides, over my arms and legs. Down my chest and belly. My boner was on its way back, at half-swollen mast, gradually growing under the warm attention of her shower and the tingles it brought. It felt great against my cock, as she paid it special service, watching it with curiosity as it bobbed and swayed slowly hardening further under the pressure. “That feels really nice,” I admitted, suddenly craving her hand, or a mouth.

With a wry smile she looked up at me before standing, to her full height. Her breasts were right in front of my face. She replaced the spray wand to its wall mount, though water still jetted from its nozzles. I tried to watch her face, read her expression, but my attention was immediately pulled toward her hands as she undid the big knot in her towel, which bound it to her chest. With more than a small amount of drama the towel fell, revealing her naked body. I couldn’t help but groan she was so perfect, her curves so jaw-droppingly stunning. By god her waist was small, her hips so flared. Well-trimmed womanhood lay between the cleft of thick, powerful thighs and legs which would shame a racehorse. Her tummy was softly trim and tanned, navel formed to vertical perfection, the hint of her abdominals rippling beneath taut, flawless skin. And above, god help me, her breasts hung huge, giant globes just two shades paler than the rest of her, each a firm, ovate melon with large brown nipples, tan aureoles. My eyes looked up into enormous, monumental underboob, and saw the faint pattern of blue veins just under her skin’s surface. She was huge, huge! How tall had she become?! My god, I felt tiny.

She giggled, amused by my awestruck expression, and pulled the towel from her hair. She shook her dark mane, semi-dry, and looked back down at me. She watched as I backed up as she stepped into the shower. Warm water from the ceiling now flowed over both of us. She reached for a bottle of shampoo, and squeezed some into her hand. With the other, she turned me around, and from behind her hands began rubbing my hair. I could feel her fingers firmly scrubbing my scalp, massaging shampoo into my sodden hair, a lather foaming up. My eyes fluttered under the indulgence of her attention as she worked it into my head, cleaning everything around my ears, rubbing the back of my neck with frothy shampoo.

To rinse, she pulled me back a bit, more fully under the rainhead and began to speak again to me. “So, tell me. How do you feel about our relationship dynamic now?” she asked, shielding my eyes with a hand over my brow, “Hm?”

“Wh-what do you mean?” I asked, water sputtering from my lips. I was a little surprised by the suddenness of her question.

“Can’t you feel it changing again?” she said plainly, rubbing my hair under the showerfall to clear it of soap. “Because I can,” she continued, as she reached for something else behind her, from the shower shelf. She was squeezing something else from a bottle. “I can feel myself becoming more dominant over you, again. But in a like big mama-bear kinda way.” She was rubbing what sounded like gel between her hands, frothing it up. “And you’re getting more submissive, more dependent on me, weaker.”

“Wow, uh…” I began, not really knowing what to say. Whatever pride I still had, whatever vestiges of male ego and authority still rattled away inside my shattered soul rankled a bit at her suggestions…even though my cock again betrayed me with a throb. Yes, yes, yes. I was in a tough time, in life. Struggling a bit with my health, my sense of self worth. I’d found her, and I’d latched on a bit, I admit, to her strength. She was an entrancing beauty, to boot, young and vibrant, and it had been easy to allow myself to fall into her shadow, to let her establish herself as the stronger partner despite her age. I was content to watch her bloom bigger and bigger and more gorgeous seemingly every day while I seemed to recede. But still, her words stung a bit. “I dunno, about that, real-”

With shower gel in her hands, she’d reached around and grabbed my cock with her left hand. If it wasn’t at full stiffness before, now it certainly was. My voice, stopped in my throat, became little more than a guttural whimper as lightning coursed up my body from her grip. She lathered up my erection, then her hand passed dutifully under my sac to clean me underneath.

“You were saying..?” she prompted me, a gentle squeeze to my testicles reminding me who was in charge.

Yeah, uh, nope. I was speechless, struck, and she knew it. My body quivered and quaked, threatened to collapse at the knees as she kept up the pressure on my tender gonads. She held me for a bit and then - pleased by my acquiescent silence - moved her hand back up for a stroke up my shaft.

“Good boy,” she purred.

Her big, slippery left hand worked my cock with slick expertise. She knew exactly how to keep me frozen, paralyzed, quivering at her touch. Her other hand, also slathered with frothy gel, now ran down my backside, under and then up, between the cheeks of my butt. I gasped, flinched, and tried to keep from crying out as she lathered me up in there as well. She ran her hand up and down, in and out, gently but with confident command, as her left hand still stroked my erection. This…that…this was almost too much. I writhed, twisted, and began to pull away from her.

"Ugh, such a squirmy wormy," she said, giggling. I could hear her eyes rolling in mock annoyance, and she gripped my cock tighter, to bring me to heel. "Will you settle down and stop being such a baby?” She paused for a moment, then, gears turning. "Hmm..." she said, a playful smirk brightening her voice, "Forget that. Give in to those urges.” She began to stroke my cock again, and her voice dropped to an indulgent, baby-doll coo. “You can be as much of a baby as you want,” she said, as if now talking to a small child, “I promise mama will take good care of you."

Did she feel me shiver? Did she feel me shake? She heard me whine, for sure, because she began to giggle. While her left kept a grip on my cock her right hand left my butt and she spun me around by the shoulder to push me against the tile of the wall. The stone, for the second, was a shock of cold. Hand still on my shoulder, leaning in over me, Melissa bent me at the knees a bit and then put her right palm on the wall above me. She dropped her shoulder a touch, bringing her huge right breast to bump into my face.

“Y-you have really big breasts…” I found myself saying, in awe at its size as she pulled it away, just a bit, so I could stare at its tumescence from below.

“Mmhm I do…” Melissa chuckled, her great, wet, pale breast wobbling with her laughter. It was, my god, maybe twice the size of my head, if not more. She waited for me to continue, to see if I had any other observations, but seemed to be pleased with the quieting effect it had on me. Hypnotizing, isn’t it little man?

Yes. I watched water streaming off it, water running over her shoulder from above, down her breasts, over her nipple in thick rivulets. I saw how her areola was swelling, the little bumps of Montgomery glands forming, her nipple thickening in the warm, warm water.

“oh my god….” I groaned, as I watched the dribbles, rivers.

“Thirsty?” she asked, from above, “Open up.”

Without a thought I complied, opening my mouth as she continued to stroke my cock below. Like a needy bird I eyed the warm water streaming off of her breast above me.

Adjusting her shoulder scantly, coming in closer, she directed the rivulets onto my face, splashing onto my forehead and eyes, running down my nose and cheeks. She shifted again, and I turned my head to the left, so her wet nipple now dribbled everything right to my open mouth from inches away. I gurgled, and took it, and swallowed.

“There you go, cutie..!” she giggled, and watched as I opened my mouth again for more shower water, warm from the rainhead, warm from her skin. “Drink up, that’s right, drink up…”

I held my mouth open, longer, longer, let it fill, until water bubbled out. Then I closed, gagging a bit into another swallow, warmth down my throat. I swear I tasted her in it, and I reopened.

She came in closer, dropping, bringing her nipple now right to my lips, to my open mouth. I closed, latching loosely onto her warm nipple, water still coming into my mouth from her areola, I sucked and drank the shower’s water now directly from her breast, from her skin. I swallowed, and gulped, awkwardly and clumsily. She pushed her engorged nipple more into my mouth, gently forcing it open further for me to accept her tit. The water was now dribbling around my lips as I let her push her nipple in. Whatever this was, whatever game she was playing, I was not resisting, I was only letting it happen.

Nipple in my mouth, I lapped at it, I suckled water from it. She took, then, the handheld spray and adjusted the stream’s volume so it gurgled water out rather than sprayed, and layed it atop her right breast, near her shoulder. Water now came down to me in a thicker flow, burbling and bubbling around my mouth, running over my nose and cheeks. She was giggling again, and I was sucking and drinking as best I could, mouthing at her nipple and gargling the warm water from it. It was thick with her pheromones, now I was sure, and instincts inside me made me latch on tighter, not wanting to ever leave this position.

“Oh, Jayyyyheyheyheyheyyyyyy…!” she giggled and purred, cooing down to me, trying her best not to just give in and squash my face with her tit, “You’re making me feel like a real mommmyyyyyyyyy…” Rather than plaster me with her breast, mush my head into the wall, she wanted to let me keep water-nursing, play-suckling from her. Go, baby, go, drink up, drink up from me. Her giggles had faded, replaced by little groans.

Water flowed into my mouth, when I would come for breath, and it gave me life. I drank, I drank and I suckled and drank. I felt Melissa starting to tremble in arousal above me and it was only then that I realized holy shit holy shit…her hand…her hand…I’m about to come.

I fought it back but nnngh oh my god I was close, it was coming. My hand reached for her, and found her womanhood between her legs. I cupped it, stroked up just once and then she shuddered. All it took was one stroke, fingers already soaked. She had been leaning forward more, now unable to keep her ample tits from plastering my head into the wall, and as I suckled water from her she was coming, orgasming, shaking and pushing me harder into the wall as she groaned. I came, then, too, in a burst and a muffled bark into her tit worried even in my climax that I might both smother and drown. Or I might be head-crushed to a pulp or fall to the floor as my legs trembled and gave out from under me. The weight of Melissa's chest was really the only thing keeping me standing. My panicked moans resonated through her boobs only increasing her pleasure as her hand continued to move firmly along my shaft. My jism had splashed first against her upper hip and thigh, a pulse, and then another and another and another, each washed down her leg by the water warm flowing down her, around us, down our bodies.

After a minute, a few wet damp tender moments in which we pleasured one another, my hand on her, hers on me, her breast in my face and nipple in my mouth as our climaxes waned, she pulled me away. Warm water still washed us as we basked in the afterglow, her hair was dark and wet over her shoulders and face. “Oh my God, Jay…” she breathed, chest heaving, looking down at me as if with new eyes. The shower wand had been dropped, forgotten, dangling from the wall on its chrome hose, gurgling out water still.

I looked up at her, blinking shower water from my eyes. I didn’t know how to react, I just looked at her. I was so scared of what this meant for our relationship.

“Stay here,” she said, finally, turning off the water and turning to step from the shower. She was retrieving two huge new, white towels from a rack on the wall. One she draped over my head and shoulders, its long folds reaching well down past my waist, while she dried herself with the other. Motionless I watched her, entranced by both the impressive muscles under her smooth, perfect skin and the soft contours and jiggles of her body’s curves. She finished with herself quickly, and then turned to reach down and place her towel around the one already covering me, wrap them both tightly around my entire body, my arms bound to my sides, until nearly all that showed of me was my face and maybe my feet sticking out the bottom. She then swept me up into her strong arms and carried me into the bedroom.

I know no man can really remember what it was like when he was an infant wrapped in blankets and cradled in his mother's arms. I certainly did not - I barely remembered my mother at all - and yet, completely swaddled in those huge, soft towels and cuddled securely against her naked chest with my head tucked against her strong shoulder, looking up in amazement at those beautiful, larger-than-life features looming so close above my own, that's exactly how I felt. Her smile was wide, warm, benevolent and in that moment I wanted nothing more than to be hers, to be held and loved and cared for by this magnificent giantess. That she seemed more than human, a goddess of power and beauty, was beginning to be less and less of an exaggeration. To have my body literally melt into hers and become one with hers forever would be a dream come true.

She carried me to a large, soft chair in the corner of her bedroom and sat down in it, placing me on her naked lap. With my head still tucked against her shoulder, my entire body still swaddled, she dried my face and hair with a corner of the towel. Then, as I fell deeper and deeper under the spell of the warmth and softness of her naked body, she dried the rest of me with little pats and hugs through the towels encasing my body.

“Do you see this, do you see how we are here, you and me?” she finally spoke to me, “This is right. This is how it’s meant to be.”

I looked up at her and blinked, unable to find any of the words I needed to say. I felt her left arm reach under me and lift. Cradling me now in her arms, she gently lowered me down to rest my head on her huge right breast. I looked up at her from her boob, my left cheek near her nipple.

“I could be good at this. I could be very, very good at this,” she said to me, adjusting my body in her strong arms, “All you need to do is want it, and let me grow. Let me grow into it.”

Did I know what she meant? Did I really know, understand, comprehend what she meant? I don’t know if I did, but I felt it. I felt the bond between us stronger now than ever.

“So is it? Is it what you want? Tell me. Tell me this is what you want.”

Of course it is.

“y-yes…” I said.

“Yes what, sweetie?” she prompted. She needed to hear me say it.

“this is what I want…”

“Good boy…” she nearly groaned, and - I feel it changing again, already, inside my body - turned my face into her breast. On instinct I opened, took her nipple in, and latched on….

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Thanks muchly to ResistanceIsFutile, editor in residence

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#growing into the job

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