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#u can like makeup that's fine
quietwingsinthesky · 7 months
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leviathan!charlie friendly-chewing on lucifer…
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idiealotdontworry · 8 months
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the anti-shoplifting ppl on this webbedsite are ridiculous. if your employer genuinely punishes you bc someone stole from the store you work at, thats bc they suck and you should be mad at the company, not the ppl who had to resort to stealing to get by. but you gotta look out for #1 so bad that you're willing to forgo all sympathy for people who have it worse than u when big boss tells you to...ok
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karomiiz · 1 year
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first crying session before finals~
#i didn't even cry bc im still wearing my mascara/makeup even tho it's almost 11 pm#RANT INCOMDING#there is no feeling more frustrating than being on a path by yourself#like quite literally no one in my cohort can relate to me or neither can my friends#im graduating a year early im the only hardcore stem major#out of my friends bc probs gonna offend some people but if you're a business major at my school its a joke#tis literally me myself and i having a breakdown bc no one else can relllllaaattteee#bc im the only one doing grad apps and finals#the only one doing a internship and working another job as well#hot damn if misery loves company why do i gotta suffer and go through everything alone that's what i wanna know#monet if u had a year or semester off youd be bored#no mom and dad i would not i would actually be able to experience boredom which is not the worst thing instead of being#in year round schooling since i was 16#but it's fine nobody listenssssss#i put the stress on myself people say as they load on more things onto me#if one more person needs me for something i will lose it#this is for irl people not tumblr mutuals#literally if i showed someone my texts it's just people asking me for things#unloading their bullshit onto me#the list goes on and onnnnnn#and then people have the audacity to come at me for being busy all the time#this applies to past mutuals and irls#like wow. u think i want to spend like my day in and day out running around doing shit#like did that thought ever cross somebodys brain#that if you're saying i never have time for u etc etc you're always busy#that maybe im fucking exhausted from always doing shit but apologies i guess#even my own mother unloads shit like damn didn't realize i became jesus of nazareth#anyway goodnight i will probs delette this tomorrow morning or something#negativity tw
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oatbugs · 2 years
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do u guys want a video of the kind of past day i have had .
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disneyprincemuke · 5 months
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look after you * fem!driver
the heat of the qatar race alongside her period proved to be much more than she can handle; although she doesn’t tell anybody that
pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver, sebastian vettel x fem!driver, alex albon x fem!driver, carlos sainz x fem!driver, charles leclerc x fem!driver
warnings: mentions of period, not feeling well
notes: hi i told u we're back to regularly scheduled fem!driver content... although, i do have a plan for something else later tonight! i also seem to be getting over my writer's block, sOOO WE SHOULD BE GOOD TO GO WITH THE REST OF MY FICS
also, i'm very curious where u guys think i'm from because i'm awake at the most ludicrous of hours answering asks and messages so like idk
(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)
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she sits back in her seat, eyes darting all over the garage as mechanics and engineers scramble around to prepare her car for the race later today.
the sprint race yesterday was just as excruciating as she expected. the heat, the intensity of the race, and the fact that she's suddenly got her period was not a good mix as it proves.
she barely survived the duration of the sprint yesterday. she was visibly pale climbing out of her car, chest heaving and makeup melting off as she took her helmet off. it didn't take long for sebastian to catch on to her state when she entered the garage after weigh-in.
"kid," sebastian stops right in front of her, head tilted to the side in concern. he's got a cold can of pepsi in his hands when she looks up. "are you feeling okay? you don't have to race today if you're not well."
"no, i'm fine," she nods, taking the pepsi into her hands. she smiles up at him weakly as she sips on the straw. "i'm okay."
"well, you didn't look very okay yesterday," sebastian frowns. "don't be pressured to race tonight if you don't feel like it. your safety is more important than the race and it's unbelievably hot here tonight."
she shakes her head, slowly getting up as she remembers the drivers' parade that she has to attend. "i can definitely race today. i promise i'm fine," she reassures him with a pat to his shoulder. "i just need more pepsi to feel refreshed."
"you've got to drink water at some point for hydration," sebastian mutters. "i've got some in the freezer for before the race. drink it, okay?"
she grins at him with a thumbs up, slowly exiting the garage. "i will drink the ice cold water."
when she turns around to walk towards where other drivers have gathered, she backs into somebody's body, making her whirl around with an apology on her lips.
"i'm so sorry!"
"oh, it's alright!" a familiar giggle fills her ears and a hand comes up to her shoulder to offer some support. when she turns around, alex is smiling down at her as he steps aside to walk with her. "oh, your hair is up in a ponytail today. is something wrong?"
"what?" she's taken aback by the question - why is her ponytail such a big deal? "what about the ponytail?"
"i've just never seen you bring your hair up before on a race weekend," alex frowns, tugging at a strand of hair gently. “you look cute. and- oh, no makeup today?”
she shakes her head with a frown. “the heat practically melted my makeup off yesterday. that shit’s expensive and uncomfortable,” she mutters, bottom lip out in a pout as they walk.
when they approach the small group gathered by the pit lane, she’s greeted by oscar’s surprised gasp and carlos’s confused head tilt.
she lifts her arms, palms into the sky as she throws them a scowl. “what?”
carlos tears his eyes away immediately, but oscar maintains his gaze on her. “you’re not wearing any makeup.”
“yeah, so?”
oscar furrows his eyebrows and turns his body away from her. “nothing, just odd. you typically like doing your makeup.”
“it’s too hot to do my makeup,” she sighs, not liking that she has to repeat herself. “it practically melted off during yesterday’s sprint.”
“that’s true. comfort over anything else,” carlos nods with an approving smile. “please remember to drink some water later.”
“you and seb are so alike,” she grins, patting the spaniard’s shoulder. “that’s exactly what he told me earlier.”
“yeah, because everyone knows you don’t drink water when you’ve got,” oscar snatches the drink in her hand, “a pepsi in your hand. so unhealthy.”
“well, it makes me feel so sparkly in my mouth,” she fights back, snatching it back. “mind your own drink!”
“what’s u– you look different today,” logan says, slowly approaching the circle. with a hand on the small of her back, he tilts his head slightly as he scans her face. “is it the hair?”
“no, mate,” oscar smirks, “she didn’t do her makeup.”
“oh! how come?” logan frowns, pinching her cheek. “i was wondering why you hadn’t sent a selfie to the groupchat yet begging for compliments.”
“yeah, true,” oscar chuckles. “that does seem to be a trend, doesn’t it?”
“you guys get selfies for free?” carlos frowns. “she always asks me to pay like a thousand every weekend i ask her what she’s wearing to the paddocks.”
“only a thousand? she asks me for millions,” alex finally speaks again with the shake of his head. “what a business woman you are.”
carlos raises an eyebrow. “all jokes aside though… you are looking a bit pale. are you feeling okay?”
she smiles, a thumbs up raised next to her face. “of course!”
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“mate, you don’t look very well,” she mutters, sipping on her pepsi as she approaches logan. “the flu still got you bad?”
“pretty bad,” logan sighs, slumping his shoulders. “but i’ll be alright.”
she hums, pressing her lips together as she looks at him from the side of her eye. “i’m not sure if i believe you, actually.”
“if anyone’s more of a liar between us, it’s you,” he puts his hands on his hips, “you look worse than i do and you just keep insisting you’re fine
“is it because i’ve not got makeup on?” she scowls at him, winding her hand back to smack him on the shoulder.
“what?” he cries incredulously, throwing his head back in shock. “where’d you get that? i didn’t even say anything about the makeup!”
“it’s just such a coincidence that everyone’s saying i look sick without makeup on.”
“it’s really not that. you just don’t look like you’re coping well with the heat.”
“oh, cause god forbid a woman sweats.”
“i literally didn’t even say that.”
“you may as well have.”
“you’re crazy.”
“you guys are driving me crazy with all these questions.”
“cut it out,” oscar scolds, coming up from behind them. he steps between their bodies and separates them. “grid kids are coming. please behave.”
“he said i look sick because i didn’t have makeup on,” she mutters, pointing at logan.
“i said she doesn’t look like she’s coping well with the heat! i never said anything about the lack of makeup!” logan answers hurriedly, leaning forward to scowl at her from oscar’s side. “will you tell her to cut it out?”
“tell him to stop telling me i look sick!”
“okay,” oscar says, hands up as she stops speaking. he turns to logan. “stop aggravating her — you already know what’s pissing her off, so stop bringing it up and asking her.”
then, he turns to the girl with narrowed down eyes. “and you do look a bit sick, and trust me, it’s nothing to do with the fact that you didn’t do your makeup. you just look like you are going to pass out,” oscar sighs. “just drink some water, and i’m sure you will look slightly more alive.”
he straightens his back as more drivers pile towards them for the opening ceremony for the race. “now, cut it out and just act normal. please.”
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“are you sure you’re fit to race tonight?” sebastian asks again, eyebrows raised as she zips up her race suit. “no harm in pulling out if you’re not okay.”
“seb,” she says in a laugh, securing the velcro around her neck. “i’m okay. it’s just another day in the office.”
“your mum would personally shave my head if she finds out i let you race when you’re not well,” sebastian sighs. he places a hand on her shoulder. “seriously. please sit out if you need to.”
“i’m,” she turns to him and puts a hand on his elbow, “seriously okay. please don’t worry so much. this is what i do — i race.”
“fine,” sebastian smiles. “but promise me you’ll keep me updated how you’re doing during the race.”
“i always do,” she smiles, leaning into his body for a hug. like they always do before she gets in the car for the formation lap. “promise me you won’t pull me out without my approval.”
“i’d never dare cross you."
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well. she didn’t feel good the entire race. it was too hot the entire race, her seat was burning, and sweat flooded her face almost three-quarters of the duration.
the sensation of her hair sticking to her neck and her sweaty head is driving her to the brink of overstimulation. perhaps it’s with the added bouts of cramps that would come every few minutes.
but she doubts it’s the period making her feel sensitive. it’s not her first time racing with the conditions of her period.
she finished in p5, which is arguably very nice, but she just feels very suffocated in her race suit and the helmet that hugs her.
“is logan alright?” she manages to ask, driving her car into parc ferme. “you mentioned he retired during the race?”
“he’s alright. dehydration, i think,” sebastian answers her through the radio. “medical centre with james.”
“what about oscar? he’s okay?”
“he’s alright, from what i can see from the pit wall. he’s got p3.”
“crazy stats for a rookie,” she smiles as the car stops. “can i just sit here for a while, please?”
“do you need help getting out of the car?”
“i don’t,” she trails off, her head starting to spin now that she’s no longer in motion. instantly, her chest starts to feel heavier and her breaths become shallow. “i just… just need a minute.”
every breath she takes is proven to be worse than before. the hot air hits her in the face, the helmet and the balaclava restricting the type of air she can get.
she just wants to lay back in an ice bath, if she could. if she could just manage to get out of the car, that is.
a tap on the top of her helmet urges her to look up, doe eyes meeting a pair of dreamy green eyes. one that she doesn’t see often, but has always looked up to since she was young.
“are you okay?”
“charles,” she says breathily, her vision getting blurrier by the second. “i’m okay. i just needed a minute. it’s very hot.”
“it is,” he smiles. “do you need help getting out?”
“i’m alright,” she says softly. “it’s just a little hard to breathe.”
“it would probably help if you take off the helmet,” he suggests. “i’ll hold it for you — take it off now so you can get fresh air.”
she nods, reaching beneath her chin to unclip the helmet. slowly, she pulls it off her head, then charles takes it into his hands.
instantly, she does feel slightly better. she pulls the balaclava away from her nose, allowing her to deepen the breaths she’s taking as she attempts to regain her composure.
“doesn’t that feel much better?” charles grins. “let me help you out of the car and let’s head to weigh-in together. sound okay?”
she smiles with a nod. “okay.”
the way charles leclerc has her starstruck even after racing alongside him the entire year is something she will never understand. she climbs out of the car, charles’ arms lifted up protectively around her as she wobbles out.
then she realises that he’s holding both of their stuff. she tries reaching over to take her helmet into her hands, but he simply twists his body away from her as he shakes his hesd.
“take off the gloves. you’ll feel so good,” charles smiles at her, still walking alongside her. “and the balaclava. don’t worry about your helmet.”
“thank you,” she smiles, her cheeks flushed as she does as she’s instructed. “how was your race?”
“it was okay,” charles says simply. “you drank water during the race, yes?”
“a little. it wasn’t very refreshing when i did,” she sighs. she holds her balavlaca and gloves in one hand, smiling when charles finally hands her her helmet. “though, i think- whoa!”
her sentence is cut off immediately, her helmet falling to the ground with a loud thud as she lands on her knees against the pavement. her hands dig into the gravel as she drops her head low, slightly embarrassed that she’d tripped on absolutely nothing to the naked eye.
“hey, are you alright?” charles asks hurriedly, bending down next to her. he puts his helmet down on the ground gently, a hand wrapping around her elbow and the other around her shoulders. “what happened?”
“i don’t know,” she sighs. she straightens her back slightly, sitting on her knees. “i got dizzy for a second.”
“we better get you to someone who knows how to take care of you,” charles sighs, looking up at the crowd that’s gathered around them.
one of them, being carlos, who sat out for the race today. “i’ll bring her to the medical centre,” carlos mutters, wrapping his arms around the younger girl. “get her things to seb. i’ve got her.”
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“stupid,” was the first thing logan said to her when she stepped into the room in the medical centre.
she scowls at him, a cold pack of ice gel sitting on her forehead as carlos helps her get settled into her seat. “shut up.”
“no, you shut up.”
“both of you shut up,” carlos sighs. he bends down and reappears with two bottles of water. “both of you are like, extremely dehydrated. please drink some water.”
“you didn’t drink the water seb asked you to drink before the race?” logan scoffs. “should have known better. you’re on your period, aren’t you?”
“you’re one to talk — you literally refused to drink the water they gave you in the car,” she scoffs. “and how do you know that?”
“you only physically reject water when you’re on your period, idiot,” logan sighs, sinking in his seat and closing his eyes. “also, i live with you. of course i know when the devil comes to visit you.”
“drink,” carlos says again, handing her the opened bottle of water. “i know it’s not super cold water, but you’ve got to drink something.”
“only freezing water for me,” she frowns, pushing the bottle back into carlos’s body. “you heard logan: i’m on my period.”
“i’ve got your stupid water right here.” the door is opened, sebastian holding it open with a bottle in his hand. he flashes a grin at his driver before extending his arm to give her the bottle. “drink up, please.”
“do you know she is on her period today?” carlos snorts, pointing at the girl. “no wonder she was being weird all day.”
the look of realisation that dawns on sebastian’s face can only be described as priceless. typically, him and noah, her physical trainer, are quite up to date with her statistics.
for something this serious to be overlooked with the chaotic weekend was a big issue.
“oh,” sebastian frowns. “why didn’t you tell me? we could have looked after you better.”
she smiles, closing her eyes. she waves off his concern. “i was okay. finished in the points without makeup melting on my face.”
“okay, what do you m- you literally almost fainted after the race!” sebastian groans, scratching his head in confusion. “nothing about that screams okay!”
“her definition is okay is that she’s not dead,” logan says monotonously.
“which is a good definition, if you ask me.”
“but it’s stupid,” sebastian says.
“but it makes sense,” she sings. “i’m gonna take a nap. wake me up when they come over to give me an iv like the nurse said earlier.”
“you are so very silly for not hydrating enough,” carlos sighs, readjusting the gel pack on her forehead. he puts another one where her shoulder meets her neck, chuckling when she shakes in a shiver. “glad you’re okay.”
“me too.”
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taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @love4lando @sadg3 @bborra @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie@gentlyweeps-world@woozarts
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lewisvinga · 5 months
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no me importa | lewis hamilton x fem! reader
summary; when a recent video exposes y/n and lewis’ relationship, other people think they can comment on their age gap, but at the end of the day y/n and lewis will always love each other
fc; cindy kimberly
warnings; age gap , mentions of 18+ themes
notes; loosely based off of mayor que yo by wisin & yandel and mayor que usted by natti natasha, daddy yankee, wisin & yandel :p , also reader is kinda implied as latina but it’s not important
me 🤝 writing smau’s abt dating older men
masterlist !
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liked by lewishamilton, lilymhe, and 1,020,047 others!
yourusername: made vegan alfredo for me n bae, definitely went into a food coma after
tagged; lewishamilton, roscoelovescoco
lewishamilton: wifey material
yourusername: yes i do the cooking yes i do the cleaning 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️
lewishamilton: it was amazing, love ❤️
yourusername: i put my blood sweat n tears into that alfredo, it better have been damn well amazing😕 ( thank u love💗💗)
username: so this is a confirmation?
username: girl did u not see the video, they were shoving their tongue down each others throat ???😦😦
username: cute but age gap is still icky to me 😕
username: tbh dating someone 13 years older than me is weird asf 😭
rosecoelovescoco: thank’s you’s
yourusername: ur welcome if u stop chasing lunita around 😕
lewishamilton: he is just a baby!
yourusername: so is my gatita lunita , she’s a scaredy cat , literally !!😞
username: she’s so pretty in everything what😞
username: 😍😍😍
lilymhe: cook for me next? 😏😏
yourusername: give me the time n place😉
username: ok but her learning how to make vegan pasta for lewis?? is so??? cute ????🥹🥹
username: he’s a grown man n 13 years older, he can cook for himself
username: it’s never that serious
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liked by username, username, and 93,038 others!
f1upadates: Lewis Hamilton and Y/n L/n were both spotted at the British Fashion Awards after confirming their relationship. Thoughts on the new grid couple?
tagged; lewishamilton, yourusername
username: the fact she designed her outfit n did her hair and makeup 😩🙌
username: they’re such a good looking couple even if he’s like 13 years older than her 😭
username: i need her skincare routine!😩
username: be 13 years younger than your boyfriend helps!
username: she’s so desperate that she needs to date someone older than her? how embarrassing 💀💀
username: her parents must be so disappointed…
username: why? shes a model w her own fashion line dating a 7x (8x) world champion, they’ll be fine😭
username: y’all coming at her for dating someone older like you wouldn’t date your faves who are also older!! she’s just living the y/n life
username: REAL
yourusername posted to their story!
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trans. for lyrics ; and i don’t care if i’m younger than you
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liked by yourusername, georgerussell63, and 1,230,937 others!
lewishamilton: heard she likes señores [sirs]
tagged; yourusername
yourusername: sir lewis hamilton 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️
landonorris: i can’t take you calling him sir every 5 seconds pls stop i beg
georgerussell63: ‘yes, sir’ THERE ARE CHILDREN HERE ( lando )
landonorris: wait-
yourusername: sorry not sorry, unless you’re a sir you wouldn’t get it 😁
lewishamilton: what she said😁
yourusername: mi amor, te quiero 💗 [my love, i love you]
lewishamilton: i love you🩷
username: idk if i want him or her tbh🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️
username: she’s so😍😍
username: i’d call him sir any day i get her fr
username: they’re such an attractive couple😩
username: how’d lewis bag her im being so fr
username: bc they’re both fine as fuck 😍
username: mis padres [my parents]
username: mami y papi fr [mommy & daddy]
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liked by lewishamilton, lilymhe, and 1,023,044 others!
yourusername: no me importa q usted sea mayor q yo. [i don’t care if you’re older than me]
tagged; lewishamilton
lewishamilton: wait, when did you take the second picture?
yourusername: baby i got a whole folder of those type of pictures, i take them every chance i get
username: SHARE W THE PUBLIC HELLO??
yourusername: y/n.jpg but it’s just pics of lewis’ back
lewishamilton: i love you❤️
yourusername: i love youuuu💗
username: the hand pics i’m going insane 😵‍💫🥴
username: ou that back pic, i’m going ferallll
lilymhe: omg bae stop posting pics of me 🙈🙈🙈
yourusername: ur too cute my bad😪
lewishamilton: stop stealing my gf
alex_albon: gf stealer !
username: the 3rd pic🥹🥹
username: yall need a third??
username: i can take them both ( not in a fight )
georgerussell63: if only he could look at me like he looked at u in the last picture 🕊️🕊️🕊️
lewishamilton: i will if you look like y/n
yourusername: my bad i’m too cute 😁
carmenmmundt: merc double dates now??
yourusername: uh duh, merc wags stick together 🫶
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midnightwriter21 · 1 year
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demon slayer hcs: douma & akaza as boyfriends
characters: fem!reader x douma, akaza
warnings: implied death, nsfw themes (no actual smut)
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DOUMA
god he’s so fine for what
first off douma has trouble understanding human emotions
and dawg prefers to eat women
so the fact that y’all are dating??
ur special fr fr
you are so spoiled
douma = sugar daddy
u have one of his followers from his cult following u around and taking care of any and everything that u want
u mention seeing something in a store that u liked?
douma will have it before the end of the day
you’re like a little doll to him
he enjoys dressing you up in the cutest outfits, experimenting with different hairstyles, and playing with your makeup
teases the hell outta u
he thinks your reactions are amusing
especially when u do that cute little pout
or the puppy dog eyes
and don’t even get me started on when he makes u upset
he LOVES that shit
he always makes it up to you tho
but let a member of his cult tease you? or make u upset??
there will be hell to pay
he’ll take their head clean off their shoulders right then and there
won’t even bat an eye
so touchy
glued to u
ur sitting in his lap during cult meetings
he’s holding ur hand
he’s got an arm thrown around ur shoulders
he’s running his nails up and down ur arms so he can watch u shiver and get goosebumps
ur mad at him? maybe yelling at him abt something?
not anymore
he’s got his hands on ur face and he’s squishing ur cheeks so u can’t talk
thinks ur expressions are adorable
now douma sounds like a great boyfriend so far
but this man is MEAN
low key only keeps u around because u entertain him
i mean he’s been alive for so long and experienced so much
mans gets bored
BUT!!
if yalls relationship miraculously progresses past this
he’s turning u into a demon
that way u can stay with him forever
and he’ll never get bored of u
how could he when ur the first person to actually make him understand emotions?
especially an emotion as complex as love <3
but his true nature
comes out in the bedroom
dawg is EVIL
100% will make u cry
humiliation!!!
he’s a biter
ofc he is
idk somethin abt seeing his marks on you rly gets him goin
biting down just enough to leave a mark but not to break skin
yeah
id let him step on me
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AKAZA
best boyfriend ever
no harm will ever come to u
protective asf
ur nocturnal at this point
bc ain’t no way ur leaving the house without akaza
so u gotta wait til it’s nighttime so he can come with u wherever ur going
such a gentleman ong
he’s holding ur hand to make sure u don’t get separated in crowds
or he has a hand on the small of ur back to guide u while u walk
he’s pulling ur chair out for u to sit down
he’s holding doors open for u
brings u flowers all the time
instead of looking for that blue spider lily for Muzan?
he’s picking u a bouquet of wildflowers
gonna get his ass kicked for that by muzan but oh well
100% the bf that’ll slow dance w u in the rain
with no music
ugh he’s such a romantic
god he loves u so much
and he makes sure u know it
words of affirmation!! all the time!!!
now
he’s a sweetie
but y’all ever heard that one phrase
and it’s like
gentleman in the streets freak in the sheets?
mhm that’s him
dude strong as fuck
and his STAMINA?
babe u are worn out
so many rounds
so many positions
u can’t keep up
ain’t no way i’m sorry
but the aftercare is on point
when he’s done puttin u through the ringer
he’s drawing u a bath
and making sure u drink some water cause u lost a fuck ton of bodily fluids i’m sorry
gross
cuddle bug!!
and the pillow talk!!
he’s the best
i love him sm
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crheativity · 3 months
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Hello how have u been I was wondering if I can request a slightly part 2 of the reader making the overblot squad cute little plushies so wha if the reader makes the plushies clothing and accessories like for vil’s plushie little fake makeup and same clothing he has sorry if my English is bad I’m still learning
SUMMARY: You decide to make the Overblot Squad’s plushies clothes! How do they react?
WARNINGS: None that I am aware of!
COMMENTS: Oh my GOSH this is such a cute idea!! And no worries Anon, your English is just fine :D I hope you enjoy it!!
Part one - Prefect making the Overblot Squad plushies of their respective Seven member - can be found here. Part three - their reactions when the plushies are stolen - can be found here.
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You made his plushie some… clothes? He didn’t even know you could remove her current ones! He would never think to try something so scandalous on his own! Especially not with a plushy of the Queen of Hearts!! Ah, wait- he meant no disrespect! He just meant that he wouldn’t- uh… He’s just gonna stop talking now.
You have to show him how to change his plushy’s clothes – he refuses to figure it out on his own in case someone walks in – but once you show him it’s not like that, he’s more comfortable with it. He doesn’t change things around a lot – maybe whenever you make him a new one. He keeps them all safely in a box under his bed. Occasionally, he’ll take them out just to look at. Seeing them always makes him smile.
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You decided to make the powerful, feared and mighty King of Beasts… a hat? And slippers? Hah, you got guts, Prefect. He’s gotta say, he respects it. Alright, he’ll indulge you. He’s slightly surprised at how small yet detailed the accessories are. There’s something slightly endearing about such small clothes… maybe that’s one of the reasons why people like children? Tch. Te can’t relate.
Nonetheless, it’s amusing to him what kind of accessories you think of. He’s also not the type to change up the doll’s outfit a whole lot, but he’ll stash them all around his room. Much like the toy, they all smell of you. It’s starting to annoy the other Beastmen. Ruggie’s strongly considering having an intervention.
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Prefect… these are adorable! Are you sure you don’t want to sell these? Ah, r-right. Please forgive him for forgetting they were for-... for his eyes only. Please stop looking at him and let him regain his composure. He absolutely loves them! He hopes you know how much of a friend the doll has become to him. He’s starting to tear up, you’re so kind. Give him a minute.
Azul has designated different clothes for different purposes. Before bed, he puts his doll in her pajamas. When he wakes up, he selects her outfit for the day and changes her into it. He does this almost ritualistically every day. Floyd and Jade have teased him for it, but surprisingly, Azul doesn’t seem to mind.
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Oh? You made his Sorcerer of the Sands doll some different outfits? Pft– that’s so cute. He didn’t mean to laugh at you – he’s delighted, really! He just… can’t believe that you’d spend precious free time doing something like that. Hey, come on, he’s not judging you or anything, but free time is precious, right? You should spend it more on doing what you want to do. Still, though, he loves the clothes - and finds your cute little pout adorable. 
He definitely keeps them with the doll. Whenever you make him new ones, he’ll pick up the doll and change the outfit. Otherwise, he’ll only change them a couple times every so often. This has given him an idea though. Maybe you’d like a doll too? Then you could match. Although, Ramshackle dorm doesn’t really have a mascot… maybe he could make you a ghost? Or a plushie of Grim? 
(Didn’t he say that spending ‘precious free time’ doing something like ‘that’ was wasted? Point it out to him and he’ll get flustered and walk off in a huff. He will return with a plush and an apology for you two days later. He enjoyed making it a lot.)
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You made his doll clothes?! He’s trying not to squeal like a teenage girl. He didn’t know that his doll could change clothes!! Oh, prefect, he loves you so much. He’s going to ask you to make so many clothes, you better be prepared for what you’re getting into!
He, like Azul, changes the clothes all the time and will often just sit down for like an hour and change the doll into perfect outfits. As you could probably guess, Vil LOVES using the doll to try out new looks. Whenever he’s designing an outfit or a piece of clothing, he always asks you to make a small version for him to try out on the doll. This helps him to be able to practise styling them and getting an idea of how the finished piece would look. 
His favourite kind of outfit to ask for, however, is anything that reminds you of fashion from your homeworld.
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You made his marketable plushie some marketable clothes?? Oh my gosh. That’s adorable. It’s so small! Looks like those itty bitty cutey kitty clothes– AH– ahem. you didn’t hear that. He definitely wasn’t just having a total fanboy moment. no siree… do you think you could make him an outfit from his favourite anime? that’d be cool, he guesses.
He’s DEFINITELY gonna make the little guy cosplay his favourite characters. Maybe that’d improve his gacha roles even more? Oh he is 100% down to help too. Any clothes that require metallic details he is WELDING that stuff together. It’s so cute how invested he gets in this. Ortho loves seeing his brother get so passionate about this too!
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Malleus is DELIGHTED. He was not aware that his little friend could change outfits! How adorable! He loves you so much! He is this close to buying an actual, fully sized wardrobe just for them! …But Lilia talks him out of it. Actual, fully sized wardrobes take up a surprising amount of room. So, he ends up getting two, miniature wardrobes. Which fills about the same space. Lilia’s not sure his advice really worked.
Malleus will now dress up his dolls for tea parties, picnics, or whatever outings they decide to go on. He is constantly surprised and delighted by whatever you make him, although he’s not very good at suggesting ideas. One of the few ideas he came up with was fashionable about a hundred years ago and was a very complicated piece of clothing. However, when he received the outfit, he took great measure to ensure that no harm would ever come to it. 
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♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥
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judithhhh · 3 months
Note
hiii a request of a jude bellingham blurb where him and the reader she's like famous idk actress or smnth idm? and they're both doing a sexy Calvin Klein photoshoot/commerical together. you can decide if they're already a couple doing it together or like they meet there and there's tension or smith? thanks xx
calvin klein (one-shot)
jude x reader
summary : read the request!
(thx for the request, hope u enjoyyy)
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opening your emails, your eyes widened at the name of the popular company, calvin klein. the email was proposing you to do a photoshoot with the company as a way to promote your new movie and their new underwear line. you chuckled seeing the name of the one you'll be doing the photoshoot with, jude bellingham. no matter how private you two's relationship was, you always managed to be linked to each other. you took a screenshot and sent it to jude, asking him if he was down too. he was quick to answer saying that it would be a nice opportunity and that he was excited to see you posing.
three weeks later, the two of you arrived to the shoot together, saying that you preferred to carpool instead of wasting gas. you parted ways as you were both pulled to separate dressing rooms, a ton of makeup artists and assistants waiting for your arrivals. an hour after, you felt all pampered up in your fresh makeup and soft lingerie. the set was quite simple, matching grey panties and bra with the calvin klein logo on the bands. the assistant had given you a oversized white shirt to wear for the first few pictures. you got up to go see jude and grinned as you saw him dressed in black ck boxers and sweatpants so low-waisted that the band was visible. he looked like a whole meal.
he approached you and pretended to make small talk until he saw that the workers were far away enough for him to talk freely.
"you look stunning baby" he said flirtatiously, making eye contact with you
"could say the same thing about you, walking around looking so damn fine"
he was about to respond, with a dirty answer you presumed, but was interrupted by the photographer telling you two to get ready. the shoot was nothing too complicated, just a white background with a chair set in the middle. the photographer instructed jude to sit on it while you stood behind him, both hands on chest. you could feel the man's heart beating slightly faster as you lightly touched his muscles, making you lean down to whisper in his ear.
"nervous?"
"a little bit yeah" he answered truthfully
you knew that the boy rarely did these types of photoshoots so you squeezed his shoulders in hope to comfort him a bit. you posed for the camera with your hands still lingering on his chest. the next pose was less innocent, with again jude sitting on the chair but this time you sat on his lap, your body only clad in the grey underwears. his hand naturally came in contact with your ass and he was about to remove it, realizing his mistake when the photographer yelled that the pose was perfect and not to move. facing away from the camera, you could stare at jude without any problem now, and that allowed you to observe his focused face, eyes slightly squinted and lips parted. god, he was so beautiful, you told yourself. even a year after, you could still not believe he was yours.
there was a couple more shots with jude on the chair and you in various position around him until the team decided it was time for a break. you went into the personal dressing room at your disposal and jude discretly followed you. the door had barely been closed when the boy pulled on your arm to turn you around and kissed you intensively. you smiled against his lip and kissed him back. the two of you couldnt resist eachother especially after those thirty minutes of subtle touches. you made out, your back against the dressing room's door and him towering over you, for the whole fifteen minutes of break until you got called for the rest of the shoot.
already excited from your previous activites with your boyfriend, you groaned when you saw that the poses were now even more bold. the team had told jude to remove the sweatpants and you had removed the white shirt before, meaning that the two of you had to resist eachother only dressed in underwear. your eyes mets jude's and you saw that he was just as troubled as you were. following the photographer's instructions he laid on the ground as you stood on your knees between his parted legs, leaning like you were about to kiss his abs. the position made your mind slightly dizzy, flashbacks of heated nights with your boyfriend coming to mind. when you got up from this shot, you slighty nudged your foot in between jude's legs making him repress a groan.
''dont get too excited now'' you whispered, smirking down at him
''shut up, youre loving this more than i am''
the next pose though, he loved way more than you. you leaning down supported by your elbows while he laid on top you, his head nestled in your chest. he was just a man after all, having his face in his girlfriend's boobs simply felt like paradise on earth. you smile while looking at the camera, amused at the thought of your man enjoying this way too much. when this shot was over, jude almost physically sighed at the lack of contact with your chest.
the team yelled instructions wanting to get the perfect last shot, but you were still kind of shy to act out their ideas. they wanted you to remove your bra for this last take which wouldn't really expose you seeing that they also wanted jude's hand to cover your boobs. it was still quite a scandalous picture to take, making you kind of apprehensive. seeing your hesitation, jude directly went to comfort you.
''it's fine baby, its nothing too explicit really'' he whispered in your ear
''its scandalous stills, what are people gonna think?''
''we dont care, a photoshoot is a photoshoot. its like acting''
his words managed to calm you down and you proceeded to pose for this last one. jude's hands around you made you way more comfortable, and before you knew it the two of you were back in the car, finished with the long photoshoot. looking at the pictures the director sent, you showed them to jude who was amazed.
''we look really good you know, i'm gonna post it''
''jude you can't do that! you're a footballer you dont post shit like this''
''baby, like i said, a photoshoot is a photoshoot. who cares?''
judebellingham
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liked by vinijr, yourusername, and 2,390,876 others
judebellingham it look like we in love, but only on camera 🎶
tagged : calvinklein, yourusername
view all comments
yourusername only on camera 🤔
judebellingham only on camera 🤫
yourusername we look amazinggg
camavinga looking good hermanooo
judebellingham mon frèreee
jobebellingham didn't wanna see that...
judebellingham didn't ask you??
calvinklein 🤍🤍
user173 they look too good
user729 begging 4 yn and jude to get together
user048 couldn’t even edge to this, I exploded immediately!!! clean up on aisle MY PANTS 😂🤣😂🤣
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ilwonuu · 3 months
Note
Can you write jealous/possessive jaehyun smut? not in a toxic way but a cute way if anything. 🫶🏼
YES OF COURSE!!!<3 thank u for the request. i am the biggest jaehyun girlie like he is one my favorite idols!!! also he is so fine i need him biblically 🥱
𒀭 ˖ ࣪ only yours. j.jaehyun
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summary- you plan to go out on a friday with your friends planning to have the most fun ever. jaehyun has a better idea.
warnings- unprotected sex, slight jealousy, sweet jaehyun(pls save me jaehyun pls), soft sex, fingering, kissing, pet names(baby fem receiving, he gets called jae once), sweet love(ew)
authors note- i’m so happy someone requested a jaehyun fic because i literally was gonna write one anyways<3
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you have started to get ready for your night out. you pick out your favorite black dress knowing it makes your body look great. “you look so pretty but you’re really gonna wear that out without me?” he says playfully but you know he isn’t joking deep down.
“jaehyun you knew i was going out with my friends tonight come on.” you look away from him finishing your final touches on your appearance. “i know i did but you just look so beautiful im nervous someone is gonna try to hit on you.” he slowly makes his way behind you wrapping his hands around your waist. “jaehyun no one is gonna hit on me. and if they do it doesn’t matter because im coming home every night to you.” you smile slightly as you turn around to face him. “i know i know im not trying to be crazy you know how i am. you’re too pretty i don’t want anyone else to see my pretty girl. you are just so beautiful.” he smiles pulling you into a deep kiss.
melting into the kiss for a quick second before pulling away. “jaehyun! you’re kisses are gonna mess up my makeup.” he just smiles again kissing your neck this time.
“you know.. you could stay home with me..” he nips at your neck making you shudder at his warm breath. “j-jaehyun you know i have plans i can’t just cancel.” he doesn’t stop kissing and biting your neck gently moving his hand to rub your thigh. “i mean you definitely can cancel and i really don’t want you to go.” he smiles at you. “jaehyun you keep asking me to cancel tho. they’re gonna think something is wrong.” he shakes his head. “just tell them im sick or something.” you roll your eyes pushing him back slowly. “you seriously don’t want me to go that bad? baby it will be okay.” you look at yourself in the mirror. “please? i just don’t want you to be looking so beautiful without me. i swear if you really want to go i will still be happy to drop you off.” he is practically begging you.
“fine. but next time i am not canceling and i mean that okay!” he smiles pulling you back to him to kiss you roughly. “mm i want to take this dress off you..” he pulls one of your straps off your shoulder. kissing from your shoulder up to your neck. “j-jaehyun..”
“huh? whats wrong?” he says pulling the other strap off before pushing the dress down your body. “t-touch me please.” you say with a desperate tone. “of course baby.” he moves his hand to between your legs rubbing your thigh slightly. “lets lay you down hm?” he says walking you back into the bed laying you down gently.
“you look so beautiful..” he says moving in between your legs slightly rubbing your clothed clit. “jaehyun please.” he laughs. “okay okay tell me what you want baby.”
“i want you to fuck me. please.” he nods. “let me prep you first okay?” he pulls your panties down your legs. “look at you. i can’t believe you were gonna go out this wet and this fucking beautiful.”
he rubs a finger over your folds before slowly pushing it in. “fuck you’re so wet.” he doesn’t take his eyes off your expression as he fucks his finger into you. “i need m-more jaehyun please.” he nods quickly fucking another finger into you. “like this?” he says with a sweet kiss against your head. “jaehyun please just fuck me i can take it..” he fucks his fingers into you a couple more times before pulling them out and immediately pulling his dick out of his pants. “tell me if it hurts okay?” you nod watching him line up his dick with your entrance slowly pushing in the tip. “you okay?” he looks at your face to see any signs of discomfort. “i’m fine just keep going..” you say pulling his face down to kiss him. he pushes his dick further inside you bottoming out.
“you feel- shit feel so tight.” he smiles at before thrusting into you shallowly. “s-shit you-fuck i can’t even think y/n.” he groans deeply as he continues to give slow thrusts. “harder jaehyun..” you say pushing your hips into him trying to meet his thrusts.
he does not need to be told twice as he fucks you at a deeper angle. “fuck! jaehyun please don’t stop.” he drills his hips deep into you. “i w-won’t baby don’t worry.” he moves some hair of your face.
he is fucking you the deepest he has ever fucked you. you can feel ever bit of his cock. you are drunk on the feeling of his dick getting lost in it. “feel good baby?” he asks. all you can give him is a moan as an answer.
“baby you are doing so well. gonna let me cum inside your pretty pussy?” he pulls you into a rough kiss making out with you as his dick twitches inside you. he pulls out slightly not wanting to cum before you. “fuck i cant believe i didn’t notice your bra was on. let me take that off for you.” he unclips your bra quickly going back to fucking you.
he doesn’t even give you enough time to think before you are creaming all over his dick. he just watches the mess that oozes out of you. his mouth open as you feel him cum deep inside you. “f-fuck baby.” he whimpers your name quietly before pulling out of you slowly. “shit baby im so sorry i came inside without asking.”
you shake your head. “it’s okay jae. i wanted you to..” you smile kissing his cheek. “fuck you’re gonna make me hard again.” you roll your eyes laughing at him.
“lets clean up and cuddle please?” you ask receiving a nod and a bunch of kisses around your face. “anything you want.”
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ham1lton · 18 days
Text
my favourite interviewer.
pairings: lando norris x fellow driver’s sister/reader
warnings: jokes about adoption. mentions of bigotry but in reference to o/s’s experiences.
summary: the one where you interview your sister and your boyfriend. also part of the nepo!sister universe.
author’s note: i love nepo!sis/y/n. expect to see her more. also these interviews are quite short so imagine they’re longer and these are snippets. y/n is a better interviewer than i made her out to be 😔💔
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liked by vogue, yourusername and 1,827,668 others.
oldersister: check out my photoshoot for vogue! and my following interview with my younger sister yourusername. it was definitely… interesting. link in bio <3.
user1: my favourite sisters made another appearance again!!
yourusername: DON’T! work with o/s! such a DIVA! rude as hell…..
-> oldersister: is this because i said pink wasn’t your colour?
-> yourusername: ALL COLOURS ARE MY COLOUR !! 😡
user2: y/n is so funny throughout this entire interview. a natural comedian.
user5: o/s saying that people don’t take her seriously as a driver is crazy!! she’s a two time champion!! what more does she need to do?
-> user6: it’s nothing that she needs to do. there really isn’t anything she can do to change their minds. it’s bigotry.
user3: o/s is so pretty. full time f1 driver and part-time model.
-> user4: one thing about her, lewis and zhou is that they’re all gonna serve looks and face. holy trinity.
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liked by yourusername, gq and 1,223,378 others.
landonorris: thank u gq for letting me cover ur magazine and thank u to my gorgeous interviewer for taking the time out of her day to interview me. btw… are you single 😍
user5: this was so cute!! i love their dynamic.
yourusername: no i’m not single. i have a bf. be professional please.
-> landonorris: ain’t nobody care about him queen. i bet you i could beat his ass 😍
-> user1: i wish i had this confidence.
-> landonorris: leave me alone 😭😭🖕🏼
-> user2: poor lando. getting dragged by his fans, his girlfriend, his girlfriend’s fans and his girlfriend’s sister’s fans😭😭 rip bro 💔😔
-> yourusername: he’s fine y’all. please don’t call paw patrol.
user3: lando saying y/n was his favourite person regardless of what she does 🥺🥺
-> user4: when he cussed out y/n for calling herself boring 😭 he said that’s my gf don’t be disrespectful.
user7: y/n finessing a free lunch and dinner out of her boyfriend and her sister was my favourite part. yass queen 😍 take from the rich.
*liked by yourusername*
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MY NIGHT WITH O/S L/N.
by y/n l/n.
It’s the end of O/S’s Vogue’s shoot. She’s dressed in a black form-fitting silk suit with a pair of pale pink heels. I always knew that my sister was famous but seeing her in the middle of such magnitude truly reinforces that she is not just my older sister anymore. She’s bigger than that. We decide to duck behind the busy shoot into a side room to start our interview.
THURSDAY, PARIS, 11:34PM.
Y/N: Did you expect that I’d be the one interviewing you?
O/S L/N: Honestly? No! I’m happy though to see a familiar face. Pleasant surprise.
Y/N: I’m not gonna hold back on the questions though just because you’re my sister. I need you to know that.
O/S: Wouldn’t expect you to.
Y/N: Just for the record, she’s wearing my lipstick. I told her she’d look cute in it and she refused to listen to me.
O/S: I didn’t expect it to look so cute on me. I don’t wear super bright lipsticks, it’s a orangey-red shade for the people who can’t see it. I got the makeup team to source it for me and tried it on and perhaps… you were right. It’s grown on me.
Y/N: I’m always right.
O/S: Always is an understatement but … you have your moments.
Y/N: So, what would you say it’s like being the only female F1 driver?
O/S: A very unique position to be in. I’m lucky to have such a good support system in place. Y’know? Mom, Dad, my team and you.
Y/N: It’s a lot of pressure isn’t it?
O/S: Yes. As any high profile job is.
Y/N: How do you find the pressure when it comes to being a role model for younger girls?
O/S: It’s a responsibility I take very seriously. I think it’s so important to encourage young children, especially girls, to follow their dreams and help to provide avenues to make them accessible. I would love to see younger generations of drivers that come from a diverse array of backgrounds be in Formula One.
Y/N: Remember when you were younger and you’d go go-karting?
O/S: Yes.
Y/N: Dad would always make me come and watch you. It was so boring but he’d always get us ice cream afterwards if you’d won. That’s why I always rooted for you.
O/S: Says it all really.
Y/N: I was always a tennis fan. Maybe a little basketball or football. Dad used to joke that maybe you were the adopted one because no one else in the family knew about motorsports before you.
O/S: He still does! I found out about F1 at my school library at the age of like nine and begged Dad to take me. I’m very lucky that not only did we have the funds at the time but parents that supported us. He used to drive me everywhere. He still does drive me to the Grand Prix sometimes.
Y/N: Funny how little traditions stick with us, huh? Remember when you started making real money and would take us out for dinner after every win?
O/S: I was so excited that I had the money to treat you all.
Y/N: Definitely. What was the biggest challenge you’ve faced so far in your career?
O/S: It’ll sound trivial but… probably being taken seriously.
Y/N: What do you mean by that?
O/S: As a lot of women in male-dominated spaces might face, it’s hard to overcome the biases against my abilities. People said for a long time that I was only here because of diversity quotas.
Y/N: Even when you won?
O/S: Especially when I won. I like to prove people wrong. I’ve spent my whole career doing just that. I just wish it wasn’t so constant and tiring. I’m just doing my job but because of my womanhood and my blackness, it is immediately viewed as political. Overcoming the preconceptions has become a huge part of my journey.
Y/N: That’s annoying as fuck. I’ve seen it first hand too. You’re an incredible driver. I know I joke around with you and take the piss out of you but genuinely you do inspire me. I might not be racing cars anytime soon but I’ll always be your biggest fan.
O/S: Thanks Y/N. That means so much to me.
Y/N: Now onto the juicier stories. Who are you dating? For the readers who mightn’t know your personal life, I’ll spell it oit for them.
O/S: Oh No…
Y/N: You started off by dating your childhood sweetheart, Clark Jones, and then dated actor Paul Elordi.
O/S: I did. I am single now, as you’re aware.
Y/N: And she won’t let me set her up with anyone!
O/S: Just because you’re happy in monogamous bliss doesn’t mean the rest of us wanna be.
Y/N: Thanks for letting me interview you today O/S, it was definitely the best part of my day.
O/S: You were very good. I enjoyed the questions. Five stars.
Y/N: Wanna go out to eat? Your treat.
O/S: Of course, let me change into something more comfortable. These heels are gorgeous but they are killing me.
END OF INTERVIEW.
————————————————————————
MY MORNING WITH LANDO NORRIS.
by y/n l/n.
TUESDAY, LONDON, 10:34AM.
I was told to pretend to be professional and that I didn’t spend the night with my boyfriend so I left the room at around 7am just so that I could knock on the door again later in my interviewer mode. It’s the night after his photoshoot for an energy drink. Lando opens the door in a plain black tee, a hoodie wrapped around his waist and tracksuit bottoms. He isn’t wearing shoes. He lets me in and I sit on the sofa. We start the interview.
Y/N: Good Morning. Should we start the interview?
LANDO NORRIS: I’m ready whenever you are.
Y/N: I told O/S this but just because we know each other, don’t expect me to hold back on the questions. Don’t expect any special treatment just because I am your girlfriend.
LANDO: Wouldn’t dream of it.
Y/N: Alright, let’s get started. How did you feel about yesterday’s photoshoot?
LANDO: Tried something new and I think it turned out well. Got some cool shots. The energy was great and the team was incredible. It was a fun shoot. Couldn’t complain.
Y/N: Do you think you’re a better racer or model?
LANDO: I’d like to say model but I’d have to say racer.
Y/N: I think you could be a model.
LANDO: Even though you’re biased. I’ll accept that.
Y/N: Not biased at all actually. I’m here as Interviewer Y/N, not as your girlfriend Y/N.
LANDO: Wait. Can I flirt with Interviewer Y/N?
Y/N: No.
LANDO: Boooo!
Y/N: Let’s switch gears, what do you like to do when you’re unwinding?
LANDO: Well, Usually I’d say spending time with you but you’re not my girlfriend soo… I’m going to say streaming with my friends and playing video games. Also watching my girlfriend’s favourite reality shows.
Y/N: You’re a Teen Mom UK fan? And a Real Housewives fan? I thought you didn’t to like them.
LANDO: It’s part of the boyfriend playbook. Pretend you’re bored with those sorts of shows but secretly, you’re incredibly into it. I have to keep up with your interests somehow and I picked the most interesting ones.
Y/N: I don’t blame you. Alright, one more question before I go back to being boring girlfriend Y/N and I have to give back this super cool voice recorder.
LANDO: Girlfriend Y/N isn’t boring to me. She’s actually my favourite person. Don’t talk shit about my girl.
Y/N: Fine. She’s not boring. She’s just less of a technophile.
LANDO: I’ll accept that.
Y/N: My last question is what’s your favourite thing about driving for Formula One?
LANDO: Besides the thrill of racing? And the part where I’m living my childhood dream? Definitely the fans. Their support and energy help fuel me on the track. Plus, I get to travel the world while doing what I love. I think that’s the ideal world for a lot of people. I’m very lucky.
Y/N: I couldn’t agree more. Thank you for letting me ask you those questions. Now, time for me to go back to the girlfriend version of me.
LANDO: Don’t sell yourself short. You’re always my favourite person regardless of what version you are.
Y/N: Flattery will get you everywhere, won’t it?
LANDO: Hey! It’s not flattery if it’s the truth.
Y/N: Guess you’re not just a pretty face huh. Don’t worry, I’ll keep our reality television show marathons a secret between me, you and all the millions of GQ magazine readers.
LANDO: You’re an angel. Lunch?
Y/N: Only if you’re paying.
LANDO: Always.
END OF INTERVIEW.
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868 notes · View notes
kakujis · 4 months
Text
ALL I WANTED WAS YOU.
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and when the world treats you way too fairly... well, it's a shame i'm a dream.
synopsis: a break up is nothing, not when the two of you are sworn to be together. satoru thinks you just need a little reminder.
warnings: dark content. ageless blogs + minors DNI. afab!fem reader, sub!reader, yandere!satoru, switching povs at times, possessive behavior, dubcon, recording, dacryphilia, cheating (not on gojo), somno, praise, manipulation, gaslighting, mind break(?), begging, fingering, oral f!receiving, choking, pussy slapping, creampie, masochism (reader), tiny bit of man handling and hair pulling. he is mean AND whiny. he literally sniffs u at one point lol. you wear makeup. implied multiple rounds.
ft + wc: gojo x reader, around 5.2k
@enchantedforest-network
an: hi, so like months ago (as all my wips start) i had this idea for toxic!ex bf gojo which delved into yan gojo LOL. he is so hard to write... like wtf... so anyway this was been rotting away since september!! i think i did lose my mind just a little bit writing this ngl LMFAO. idk if i really leaned that heavily into the yan, but we are going to truck along and post this anyways. thanks for waitin'. also, thank you to dooby and sky for both proofreading and giving me some ideas to push through, @sxgars for the banner, and my brain/fingers for not giving up.
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gojo satoru still remembers the day you left, eyes puffy and face streaked with makeup as you stormed out of your shared apartment. in gojo’s mind, it was fine, you’d be back. no matter how big of a fight, you always came back. 
but it’s been months now of you ignoring his calls and texts, avoiding him whenever you see him. you’ve even blocked him on some of your social media platforms since he can only access the ones you haven’t used in years. most people have told him to let it go, move on, it’s not worth it. but satoru’s heart knows what it wants and at the core of it all, it wants: you. 
he thinks you might need a little coaxing, something to help you realize you love him again. once he finds out your address, his plan is set. he spruces himself up, spritzing on the cologne of his that was your favorite, even getting suguru to stop by the flower shop near his workplace to grab you a bouquet. yes, gojo’s got it all figured out. he’ll swing by, shower you in love like he used to, and you’ll realize you missed him just as bad. 
imagine his dismay when you won’t even open the door, your voice muffled from the other side. you tell him to leave, it’s over, you don’t want to see him anymore. he begs you to open it, just give him one more chance, but you sigh, crack the door open a smidge, and tell him. 
“satoru, leave. my boyfriend’s here.” 
he thinks that word is disgusting if he’s not the one it’s referring to. maybe you’re lying, maybe it’s another ruse to get him to piss off, but when you peek behind your shoulder, giving a little smile, the kind you used to give gojo, soft, sweet, loving; he realizes you’re completely honest. 
the lump in his throat is sticky, clinging onto the walls of his neck like gum. meanwhile, his heart feels like it’s beating in his ears, a not-so-friendly reminder of his fragility. 
you turn back, eyeing the flowers, an assortment of your favorite kinds - satoru, satoru, i like these, see? - and in a moment of soft-heartedness, step out. you can’t deny the pull of your heartstrings, satoru’s endearing aura plucking at them in a solemn tune, but you’re different now. you don’t need satoru anymore.  
“look,” you start, adjusting his tie and fixing the crinkling cellophane. “maybe you could give this to someone else? they’re so pretty, someone out there would be lucky to have them. and, you’re satoru, handsome, funny, sweet. you’ll find someone else in no time!” 
but he just stares, eyes boring into you as if it feels like the wind’s been taken out of him as your words fall on deafened ears. fuck the flowers, you’re so pretty, you’re the one people are lucky to have. in a sense, he’s bewildered because there’s no way you’ve actually moved on… right? 
you sigh again, a hint of exasperation tinging your voice, “gojo, i think… this should be the last time we see each other.” you step back, hand on the door handle. to you, this is a step in the right direction. 
for him, he finds that the way you don’t use his first name has him wanting to rip his hair out from the root. 
“wait, please, i love you.” he states, finally finding his voice, feeling like his time with you is running out. his lip quivers while his heart continues to shatter with each passing second. “i’d do anything for you, you know that right?”
ah. same old satoru, the man who swore he’d take the moon from the sky if you wanted. anyone looking in would swear you were lucky, but you remember things being a little… suffocating. it was too much, too overwhelming eventually. 
you bite your lip, strengthening your hold on the handle, ready to leave. you can’t meet his gaze, knowing that if you do you might falter. “but i don’t. i don’t love you anymore.” - it’s a lie, you know it is from the little bud inside your chest blooming, breaking out past the walls of your heart, but you just… can’t. 
he shakes his head, taking a step forward. “you don’t mean that.” 
“i do, satoru!” you flinch at your own voice, taking a deep breath to calm down. “please, just leave.” you tell him one more time before you retreat back inside and slam the door. 
he waits for a few minutes, thinking that maybe he’s on one of those prank shows. you’re going to open the door, tell him it was a joke, and to come inside. except you don’t, and he’s stuck under the low flickering haze of your complex’s lights. 
gojo’s a bit stunned on the walk back home, foggy eyesight mixed with thoughts flying a mile a minute equates to a tall stumbling man with no care for those around him. he can’t even count how many people he’s bumped into, let alone the amount of sorrys he’s muttered, the now crumpled bouquet still firmly held in his hand, indicated by the whites of his knuckles. 
when he gets home, he sinks into the floor, his head wrapped around his arms before he flings the bouquet across the room. “fuck!” a picture frame of the two of you clatters to the floor, glass breaking in tiny, jagged pieces. he kept it after all, in hopes that you’d come back eventually, but now it’s clear you’re not. he doesn’t even care that he’s knocked something off a table, he’s so fucking hurt.
hurt that you’ve moved on so easily, hurt that you’re out there calling someone else ‘baby’. he can’t fucking stand it, wanting to rip out the baseboards of his home or set it all on fire. from the first day he met you, gojo’s always firmly believed you were made for him. that thought was always reaffirmed with every ‘i love you,’ that dripped from your lips into his ear every morning and evening. 
maybe it’s not the best timing, but he remembers other things as well. like each time he’s been deep inside you and your pretty mouth would hang open, eyes blown and glassy, as you gasped out his name like it was the only thing you knew how to say. or even the times you took initiative yourself, crawling under the covers to wake him up, kitten licks and sloppy kisses to his cockhead. his own eyes met yours, with a lidded call of reverence, and that was all he needed to know. 
there’s no reason to wallow, he thinks, a small reignition of flame in his gut brewing. each passing memory that trickles by is another reminder that you did love him. no, that’s not right. you do love him.
okay, he thinks, i can still fix this. you just need a little reminding is all. you love him and you’re just a little confused. maybe his mind is breaking, but he reminds himself that it’s better his mind than his heart. 
”yeah,” he mumbles, dusting himself as he gets up off the floor. “she still loves me.” 
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to be honest, breaking and entering wasn’t really his thing, he never saw the appeal in it before. but, this isn't really a break in, he’s just visiting his girl. he will say though, you did make it a little too easy by keeping your key under the mat. no, you kept it easy because you knew he was coming, simple as that. 
he goes in tentatively at first, wanting to see what you’ve done with the place, nodding in approval as he scans over the rooms. you’ve done a good job, just like you did before, but he does frown when not a single one of his photos is up. you must have forgotten or maybe you’re trying to save your new boy toy some heartbreak. silently, he walks over to your bedroom door, peeking in.
his mouth quips up into a smile when he sees you. you’re pretty as you sleep, just like he remembers. you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, mouth slightly agape as your drool dribbled down into the pillow. 
“hey beautiful…” he murmurs when he reaches you, bending down to brush away a few strands of loose hair from your face. 
a little “mm,” leaves your lips as your face twists at his touch. he leans in til he’s just a hair’s breadth away, before he ghosts his lips over yours slightly. still the same old you, lips just as soft as he remembers and what little self restraint he had continues to chip away. 
the hot breath of exhales continue to mix as satoru spends his time taking in your scent. he tries his best not to whine when you pull away slightly, once again leaning further in to stay as close to you as possible. if he could get high off of it, he probably could, but the ache in his belly grows. he needs you. 
“wait a minute…” he mumbles when you try to once again turn away. “why are you always trying to run away from me?” it’s a silly question, rhetorical since you’re still locked in the deep throes of sleep. but your body seems to answer in place of your voice when your legs rub against the sheets and your chest once again heaves itself over, leaving him behind. 
he’s sad that you’ve taken away his favorite aromatic, but with your shuffling, you’ve moved the blankets down letting him get a peek of your bare skin. you’re always a sight to behold and his fingers run themselves lightly over your body before he’s pulling the blanket off you completely. 
you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, affectionately dubbed his “sleepy wife,” even though you were never married. it’s been a while since his hands burned with such intensity, running up and down your thigh and leg, even tracing along the curvature of your ass. 
his knee dips into the bed as he finally looms over you, pushing you gently onto your back, before he’s prying your thighs open with one hand. he thinks he should take his time, savor it, satoru, but you’re just so… inviting. he runs a finger across the waistband of your shorts, experimentally tugging lightly. he flickers his eyes between his hands and your face, seeking for any signs of waking as he slowly starts to expose more and more skin. 
hints and glimpses of skin are all he needs to get riled up, further than he already is, as he takes the leap and pulls your bottoms off completely. 
“oh fuck princess,” he groans when he sees your pretty pussy for the first time in months. he’s nearly salivating like a dog as he remembers just how good you taste, bending down to get perched between your thighs. 
the first kitten lick against your clit chips away at his already waning self control. the next one that delved between your folds nearly completely breaks it. but he’s missed tasting you on his buds, missed consuming what was his. take your time, satoru. his mind ticks again, and he settles back to prepare a nice lob of spit before he’s letting it fall onto your pussy. 
you shiver unconsciously at the sensation and he takes a pause, not wanting you to wake just yet. you’d probably flip out on him and he can’t have you getting mad at him just yet. 
he waits until you settle again before he’s diving back in, driving his tongue between your folds as he laps up your essence. to say he was starving was an understatement, for these past months he’s felt like he’s been dying. 
it’s intoxicating as your juices and his saliva mix to dribble down his chin, dripping onto your bed sheets below. he eats you out like it's his first real meal in months, tongue lapping as much of your essence as he can while his fingers dig deep into the plush skin of your thighs.
he shudders as he grinds his hips into your mattress, the tip of his nose running against your clit sending little shockwaves up your unconscious body. you taste just as good as he remembers, losing himself in the sweet slick of your cunt.
your eyelids finally flutter open, readjusting to the darkened light of your room, but you can't miss that familiar snowy peak of hair settled in between your thighs.
"satoru?" you breathe, meeting his lidded eyes as your hands come down to immediately push back against his forehead, but instead your fingers curl up into his locks. 
“hi,” he chimes, smiling against your pussy as he readjusts, sitting up to shoot you a wicked smile. “hi baby, good mornin’.” the tone ofhis voice is sweet, nearly identical to what it was like when you were together.
he replaces his tongue with his fingers, whining a little when he feels you clench down onto them as he starts to scissor you open. 
“what the fuck are you doing here?” you hiss, but your body jerks when he rubs against a particularly sweet spot of yours. 
“i missed you. i can’t visit?” he pouts, pressing a kiss against your clit before his tongue is laving over it again as if to make a point. “did you miss me?” he asks when your eyes roll back and you tug just a bit harder on his hair. 
“no.” you grit, but you can’t stop the way your hips buck up into him. 
“you’ve always been a bad liar, angel.” he shrugs, before he’s latching onto your cunt again.
he’s eaten you out more times than either of you can count, he knows exactly how to get you there. he knows it’s just a little bit more until you fall apart. he’s back on with even more fervor, alternating between sucking on your clit to sloppily and quickly flicking his tongue against it. 
“oh fuck,” you mewl, throwing your head back and thrashing as you come undone on his fingers, pussy fluttering and toes curling. 
“see, i knew you missed me.” he grins, as he brings his fingers up to suck at the slick around them. you’re still panting as you try to close your legs, but satoru’s fast, bringing his hands back down to tear them open. “ah ah ah,” he tuts, “we’re not done til i say so, got it?”  
“sa- gojo, you need to leave.” you plead, head heavy and stomach churning at what’s just happened. you fucked up but it’s fine, you can fix this still. 
“why?” he asks, “your boyfriend gonna come home?” fine, he’ll play your little game for now. he’ll antagonize you for a bit, before he’s disgustingly sweet again, just like the good ole days. but there’s also the anger brewing within him, why the fuck won’t you just come home? 
he smirks when you pause, already knowing the answer, “don’t tell me you two aren’t living together?” 
you shake your head, “that’s none of your business, gojo.” in hindsight, after satoru, you wanted to take things slowly the next time. moving in after only a month of dating probably wasn’t the best idea. 
“why not? i’ve got a right to know what you’re up to.” he pouts as he says it, hoping your irritation will ease up. 
you scoff, narrowing your eyes, “since when?” but your attitude is nothing more than a facade, always has been. “we’re not even together anymore-“ 
“since i decided, you’re mine.” he snaps, cutting you off and leaning down into you. “i decided that years ago by the way, and i’m not gonna let some fucking random mess with us.” 
you squeak as you hear him rustle with his pants, freeing his aching cock and you hate the way your stomach flip flops when you see it. it’s been so long since you’ve been fucked let alone touched. gojo was the last person to have you writhing underneath him and if you told him, he’d have even more of a need to keep it that way. 
your tough facade is breaking, you’re falling back into your hazy, mindless, and needy ways. you love satoru, even if the relationship was toxic, even if he gave you so little breathing room. but not yet, you won’t give in just yet. 
you try to scramble back further before you’re able to twist out of his hold for just a moment. but he grabs your hair by the root, twisting and pulling you back close to him and you yelp, clawing at his hand.
“baby, you’re really testing my patience.” he hisses into your ear, before he’s shoving you back down on the bed. “god, you know i hate being mean to you. just be good for once, yeah?” 
“gojo, leave.” you try one more time, but the hands that push up against him are so weak that he can tell your body’s betraying you. not only that, but your thighs shake at the pain in your scalp and you wish he would do it again. 
“i don’t think you want me to.” he states and you hate that he’s right. you don’t want him to leave, you want him to slide into you, filling you up. “or am i wrong?” he asks, looming over you, running his pretty cockhead through your folds. “go ahead, tell me to stop.” 
you bite your lip in an effort to not gasp out a pathetic moan, squeezing your eyes shut. each run against your clit has your legs widening, almost like you’re inviting him to come in. 
“knew it,” he quips, before he’s prodding at your entrance. your eyes fly open then, breathing heavily through your nose, but you don’t try to back off letting him glide in, inch by inch. “it’s cause you love me.” 
“i don’t,” you exhale as you watch his dick disappear within you, stretching you further than his fingers did. you’re nearly breathless when he finally bottoms out, fists balling into your sheets. 
“yes, you do,” he breathes, his own breathing jagged and rushed, almost like it’s being squeezed out of him. “you always have and always will.”
gojo satoru always fucks with your psyche, one of the many reasons you decided to leave him. it wasn’t obvious, not at first and neither was it nefarious. it was silly little item mix ups, funny conversations that seemed to follow satoru’s lead, until it was a loss of freedom, like a nightingale in a cage. 
huh? no, you’re meeting them next week… yeah, you told me last night. 
but that’s not- 
it is. check your phone. 
oh, i guess it… is? 
c’mon, would i lie to you princess? now you can hang out with me all day. 
and then suddenly it was all too clear when you did get that girl’s trip out, when your friends stared at you like you were fucking insane. it wasn’t normal at all that you couldn’t do a single thing without him. your friends helped you fit the pieces together and that was enough. you were going. 
leaving that day was easy, satoru hated seeing you upset and was more than willing to give you space when needed. it always went one way: you cool off, he swoops in and dresses up his words extra nicely to make you stay. but you didn’t this time. 
it was easier to leave all your things there as well instead of trying to leave in the middle of night. you thought you could do it, away from him you’d figure things out. 
but there must have been a part of you that still wanted him to chase after you, a divergent, rogue piece that strayed too far from the board. is that why you didn’t leave the city? still a part within satoru’s web of connected streets, just waiting until you were ensnared again. 
his eyes are still as pretty, his face almost too handsome, and voice just as alluring as before. you guess that’s what this is, a predator just waiting to stick his fangs into your neck.
“you’re insane,” you gasp out, holding onto your tiniest bit of strength. 
“aw, just for you.” he smiles, before he’s rolling his hips into yours, grinding in just the way you like, just as you remember. 
with each stutter of his hips, your walls twitch around his length and body jolts in waves of pleasure. soft gasps and moans tumble off your lips and satoru buries his face into your neck, nipping little marks into your skin, almost as if he’s etching one word into it: mine. 
it hits him almost instantly, this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach when he remembers that stupid little nuisance. he uses his hands to push up, still ramming into you as he takes a look at your face contorted in pleasure, as you peek up at him. 
“gojo?” you mumble, trying to take into account that look in his eye, but your head is bubbly with the pleasure he’s giving you. 
even with your walls clenching down around him with each roll of his hips, his anger seeps into him like water to a sponge as he tries to block out the idea that someone else was in what was his. that they probably saw this face that you’re making and got to hear your pretty little moans. 
“where’s your fucking phone?” he hisses, snatching it off the nightstand when he finds it, illuminated by the notifications of text messages from your “boyfriend.”
you whimper, trying to grab it, but satoru holds your hands together by the wrist, strategically keeping them against your chest so you can’t move up. 
“gojo, don’t!” you plead, snapping out of your trance for a moment, but the grip on your wrist tightens and you yelp. followed next is a glare, his gaze striking you right to the core. your words die off and he goes back to looking at your phone. it’s easy to unlock, you never changed the pass code. 
his eyes scan the texts quickly and frankly, it’s fucking disgusting to read this guy call you pet names that only satoru can say. he continues to scroll, trying his best to not dig his nails deep into your skin as he takes note of every heart emoji, flirtatious interaction, and pet name from your end. 
he keeps his breathing deep and even to keep himself from blowing his lid and he has half a mind to block his number to make sure you can’t speak to him again. but suddenly he’s got a better idea, getting back at him seemed so easy. 
you look so cute underneath him, pretty pussy enveloping his cock just like it was made to do, why not show it off? especially to someone that pissed him off. 
“hey baby, can you smile for me?” he says, voice sugary sweet as he opens your camera app, but you shake your head, trying to sink further into the pillow. you’re wary of the sudden personality change, especially when he finally releases your hands. 
he pouts, “c’mon now, you’re so pretty when you smile… please?” he sighs when you continue to refuse, but continues on, angling the camera til he’s satisfied with the image. 
“god, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” he says as he zooms onto your flushed face, hands coming up to hide it, before paneling back to record down your body. he stops when he reaches where both your hips are flush together, pussy sucking in his cock right to the brim. “fuck, would you look at that? i don’t even know your name man, but how fuckin’ pretty is this?” 
you gasp when you realize what he’s doing, but before you can say anything, you feel a hand come down onto your sensitive pussy. you yelp out but his hand comes down again and you're mortified when it sounds more like a moan. “bet you didn’t know she liked that,” he goads, “she also likes this.” he says, wrapping a hand around your jugular and giving a squeeze. 
your eyes roll back as the air escapes you, muddying your sight in little black dots. your hands fall to pull at his wrist, a moot effort considering the strength difference, and he laughs. a condescending flit of noise dripping in ego. “scratch that, she fucking loves that. hey, in my defense, i’m a little rusty, it’s been a while.” 
gojo has always been one of two things, needy and arrogant. but the worst was always when the two came together, usually in his worst fits of jealousy. he’s never recorded you before, always too eager to remember to set anything up before he’s pouncing on you.
but this satoru feels different, he feels scarier, nearly dangerous, although you shake off that fear til it’s nothing more than a fleeting thought. you liked this - no he was right, you loved this. before you broke up you were always begging satoru, just a little harder, just a little meaner, please.
with another heavy squeeze as the oxygen is once again cut off from you, you feel the walls around your heart finally crumbling completely, almost like a switch is flipped on. you can’t run from nor deny the heady need that was gojo satoru, the man that knew you in and out. you flutter your lashes at him, like you always did when you wanted to tell him something. he loosens his grip on your neck, just enough so that you can speak, “you wanna say somethin’, baby?” 
“u-use me,” you mumble, voice no louder than a whisper as your eyes start to leak that familiar pretty liquid that drives him insane. you’ve missed him, missed this - whatever the fuck it was, some messed up amalgamation dressed up under the guise of love. 
“hm?” he goads, a sick smile plastered on his face because you’re finally acting how you should. “a little louder for me, princess. i can’t hear you.” 
“use me!” you sob, trying to shift your hips to get some sort of stimulation, “please, satoru, please.” 
the use of his first name has him feeling like an actual god as he switches the camera back onto him. “you heard her.” he says with a wicked grin, before ending the video and pressing send. he tosses your phone to the side, “now where were we?” 
you whine when he shifts, one elbow propping him up as his hand once again finds it’s place against your neck. your own hand resumes it’s place as well, but instead of pulling this time you press, lashes heavy with tears as you wordlessly beg satoru to claim what’s his again. 
he’s so close to you now, his snowy hair tickles your forehead and his breath mixes with yours as he finally starts to move. you choke out a sob as he ever so slowly hits all the right places and you wonder how long you actually managed to make this far. 
“this is what you wanted isn’t it, baby?” he coos, being careful to not choke you for too long, even though you almost wish he’d fuck you passed out. “just needed a little reminder that i’m all you need right?” 
you nod, hiccuping with each thrust that knocks any air you have left out of your lungs. he’s right, just the two of you is all either of you need. you think the world is melting away as satoru presses kisses against your spit ridden lips, his own groans mixing in with yours as your tongues mesh together in sloppy, messy runs. 
“and now you’re gonna cum on my cock, aren’t you?” he picks up the pace, slamming in harder, rougher, like he’s proving a point. but he’s almost always right, with each kiss of his mushroom tip against your sweet spot pulsing pleasure throughout your body. “show me how much you love me.” 
“‘m close, toru,” you sniffle, nails digging into his arm as you blink away more tears, gasping up into his mouth. “‘m so close, please.” 
“i know.” he states, pressing his forehead against yours, sticky and sweat covered, as he gazes into your glassy, hazy eyes. “come on, cum for me princess. show me who you belong to.” 
there’s something so euphoric about satoru’s words, claiming every last bit of you, that you fall apart almost instantly. your orgasm hits you hard, rippling through you as your eyes and head both roll back, your pussy clenching down on his thick cock. 
“f-fuck! cumming, toru, i’m-“ you squeal, tears running down your face freely but satoru swallows up your moans, his lips once again sealing over yours, since those belong to him too. 
that’s enough for him, a firm affirmation that you love him, and he loses control of his once precise thrusts. he pistons into you, heavy balls slapping against your skin and pounding hard as if to leave marks all up your velvet walls. you milk out his own orgasm, walls fluttering and he detaches from your lips to growl out, “you’re all fucking mine, got it?” 
you chant out “yes,” as many times you can, still riding out your own orgasm as his cum paints your walls in white, til he finally slows back down to a stuttering close. he pants as he runs his hand up to rub his thumb over your tear-ridden cheek. 
“i love you.” he mumbles and you blink up at him sleepily meeting his pretty lidded blue eyes. it’s a stark contrast to the satoru just moments ago, pounding into you like his life depended on it. 
“love you too, toru.” you whisper, running a hand over his. your head and body feel heavy, yet your mind is still floating above the clouds. he’s probably oversensitive but you can’t care, knowing that your neck is prettier now that his fingerprints are littered on it. “toru… again.” 
he laughs when he feels you start to grind your hips, sticky slick and cum dripping from your hole. he feels like he’s on cloud nine hearing you beg for him after all this time. 
“please, please, toru,” you whine, craning your neck to brush sloppy, wet kisses across his lips and jawline. “i love you, so please.” 
“course, angel,” he mumbles in between kisses, “just gimme a few minutes and i’ll give you everything you want.” 
871 notes · View notes
im-yn-suckers · 1 month
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riki bf habits?
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yes yes
teases abt ur height bc bro is shaq
so we know that hes a personn who loves to play with hair and loves to have his hair played with but did you know he loves washing ur hair and having his hair washed
his prescence is extremely calming and he can say the same about you
has cute nicknames for the plushies you guys adopted and call your children
'i saw this at the mall with jake and i thought it was cute like u!!' IMAGINE WIHT A BIG SMILE
'babe what do you wanna do?' 'idk alsong as im wit u' :(
ALWAYS makes sure u eat bc why would u starve ur bootiful body 'baby!! i ate today!!!' 'really?? Im so proud of you princess!!'
remembers everything abt u. u met three years ago and brought up u like the scent of vanilla?? three years laterbuys you a vanilla scented perfume
THE PETNAMES WUTH THIS MAN "angel, can u pass the salt?" ''princess can you hand me my phone'' ''cutie do u have lip balm'' ''baby/babe what time is it'' now the following only come out when hes sleepy or when no one else is around; ''love stay here its still early'' ''no, my love, we cant make cake right now' 'but its cake and no ones here to stop us' 'ITS THREE AM'
sends u texts w memes that say shit ilke 'this apple is yellow, if u see pink i fine asf mami' to annoy you
grabs ur waist. his arms are a belt. his personal hand warmer. sticks his hand underur shirt 4 shore!
has a soft spot for u and only u
imaginecuddling w the human koala and he whispers 'kiss me loser' wtv u say gorgeous
sends u reels and tiktoks of spiderman and hellokitty saying us
TV GIRL BRACELETS ARGUE W THE WALL
has matvhing promise rings for sure
unlike some ppl, i think hes def the type to write little notes for u
'shut up riki' 'make me bitch' sassy sassy sassy sassy sassy sassy
(over text) y/n; babe can u bring me wayer on ur wayback from taking shit pls?? riki; WAYER 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩 riki; sure angel
ur doing ur work likr a responsible student (manifesting) and 'TALK TO MEEEEEE' 'im studying love' 'idc kiss me l/n y/n'
'cmere pretty girl' while checking u out. laening againsgt the counter trying to distract you from baking
BACKHUGS AND NECK KISSES STFU
'babe' 'hm?' you stare at your phone, not lookint at him 'look at me' you look 'good girl' SIR SIR SIR IM NOT UR STRONGEST SOLDIER
buys u wtv u want bc y shld u suffer w/o 3+ prada bags, a matchcing bulgari serpenti bracelt and ring, dior and chanel makeup etc.
loves u to the end of the world.
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murdrdocs · 1 month
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she’s driving me crazy
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description. STILES STILINSKI finally gets another chance with you, and he won’t take it for granted
includes. SMUT 18+, riding, car sex, fem!reader, protective p n v, lots of making out, loser!stiles, awkward stiles, bi!stiles, exes getting back together, slightly manipulative reader, reader has easily malleable hair, reader wears makeup, drinking (but no drunk intercourse), bickering, scott guest appearance
wc. 6k+
a/n: long awaited stiles fic. bestie boo this one's for u. title from confidence by ocean alley. art credits unknown.
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Stiles knows he fucked up. 
He had you, after almost a full year of tortuous pining, and he let you slip through his hands. All of it, your relationship with Stiles, really didn’t last more than two months. Two months where date nights were rain checked and eventually canceled. Sleepovers were lackluster, and nothing more than a movie playing in the back while Stiles worked over something that wouldn’t rest in his brain, leaving you alone in the center of his unmade bed. Promises were made, and never kept. It was a mess, a horrible, murky mess of Stiles’ own creation. 
He knows this. But he still allows himself to mourn what could have been. He grieves what was. All while nursing a warm beer that doesn’t sit well in his stomach, mostly because of the sight he has been doomed to acknowledge—also his own doing as he could definitely turn his gaze elsewhere. 
You’re tucked under the arm of some guy who looks nothing like Stiles, and he doesn’t know if that makes him feel better or worse. Is that your dream guy? Or are you forcing yourself to branch out and try something that wasn’t him? He tries to resist the spiral that sends him on, and is only able to start crawling out of the self-deprecating and insecurity tunnel through Scott’s voice beside him. 
“What’re you staring at?” 
Scott reeks of alcohol and fruit-flavored syrup. If he wasn’t a werewolf, Stiles knows his best friend would be unable to stand straight by now. But Scott stands like his usual self next to Stiles, a big grin on his face probably from the attention he’s been getting from Kira. (It was sickening for Stiles to watch but he forced himself to be happy for the strong relationship his best friend has.)
Stiles’ immediate instinct is to lie. “Nothing.” He says it a little too fast. He tries to cover his slip up by taking a sip of his beer, but the flavor is unappealing to the point where the face of disgust he presents makes him look more guilty than he really is. 
Scott stares at Stiles, waiting. Stiles knows he won’t lie to Scott, not about something this small anyway, and it is only a matter of a few seconds before Stiles sighs. 
“Look,” he points at you and your suitor. “Don’t you think he’s making her uncomfortable? Look at that. He’s all over her. Probably reeks of Axe body spray.”
It’s then that the guy cracks another joke, your head throwing back in laughter just before you rest your ear against his chest. It’s so affectionate. As if you’ve known this guy for years, and not just mere minutes. 
Stiles flicks his eyes over to Scott, expecting to see his best friend analyzing the situation with at least a small amount of attention that Stiles is. Instead, Scott is looking over at Stiles, wearing what Stiles can only describe as a knowing smirk on his lips. 
Stiles steps back, a little bewildered. “What?” 
Scott, annoyingly, shrugs. He sips his drink, one he has solely for taste as Stiles knows, and only responds once he’s taken a long, slow swallow. 
“She seems fine to me. I thought you guys were broken up anyway.” 
“We are!” 
“Then why do you care so much?” 
Stiles can’t help but petulantly roll his eyes. He turns to face you and your human shaped bag of bricks once again, gesturing for Scott to do the same. His mouth opens, lips parted and tongue ready to spew out the analytics he’d been gathering this entire time in lieu of an excuse. 
Then Scott interrupts. 
“Do you want me to see what’s going on?” Scott throws a finger up towards his ear, one eyebrow lifted as he waits for Stiles to gather the implications and then make a decision. 
It takes Stiles longer to complete the latter than the former. 
He waits, thinks, looks at you and the guy. And then remembers the strict ‘no listening’ rule you all have set in place, the one he most definitely won’t betray in the name of jealousy, even if you aren’t particularly aware of all of the intricacies. 
When he sighs, it’s defeated and with his entire body. He knows he’s pouting, he assumes he resembles his teenage self—mopey and brooding. He doesn’t mean to speak through gritted teeth, but he ends up doing it anyway. 
“No. She’s probably … fine. I guess.” It hurts to admit, deep in Stiles' jealousy-filled gut. Scott’s way of comforting him is by clapping a hand on his shoulder, and telling him that you’re a grown adult who is allowed to make her own decisions, the same as him. 
Scott’s intentions aren’t understood until he points at someone in the opposite direction of you. A guy who, from the looks of it, has been eyeing Stiles for a while. He’s Stiles’ type. Exactly his type, actually, and Scott knows this. 
“Instead of sulking around …” Scott doesn’t need to finish his sentence in order for Stiles to understand. He only lingers for a few seconds, and then is pulled back towards the larger group by Kira’s eyes and grin. 
The guy on the other side of the bar is still watching Stiles. He’s smiling a small but confident smile, like he knows Stiles wants him as much as he wants Stiles. He tilts his head in a beckon, and Stiles is close to letting the guy pull him over there. Until he sees you step away from the man, smile dismissively up to him, and start towards Stiles instead. 
Instantly, it’s like a flip has been switched. 
He starts to feel the effects of the alcohol, even though he’d been nursing the same bottle the entire night. Still, he chooses to attribute the buzz flowing throughout his body to the overpriced beer and not excitement of finally having your attention. 
He watches your path, trying not to feel too disappointed as he takes notice of the way you’re struggling to walk in a straight line. 
You fall into his arms in a fit of giggles. Your head resting on his chest, your hands circling around his back. 
“Stiles,” you sing, long and drawn out and definitely drunk.  
He repeats your name in the same tune, placing his drink onto a tabletop next to him and abandoning it for good. Keeping you away from self destruction is his new main priority. 
You slump against him even more, turning yourself around and leaning back against his body. Your position leaves Stiles with nothing else to do other than stand stiffly. He knows that if you were sober, you wouldn’t be nearly as affectionate as you are now. He ignores the way your ass brushes against his crotch. He ignores the smell of your perfume wafting up to him, a scent he had the privilege of seeing you apply a few times before when you were dating. (The image of you getting ready for the day, lathering yourself in the oils and lotions and scents that worked to create your unique scent will never leave his brain, for better or for worse.)
He does his best to remain unaffected, but then you tilt your head up, the crown of your hair rubbing against Stiles’ shirt as you look at him. As soon as he glances down, he sees you pouting, clearly over exaggerated but it’s a look he, pathetically, will never be able to resist. 
“Why won’t you touch me?” You manage to sound pitiful, as if you had lost every single thing you hold dear to your heart in the last couple of minutes. 
In his response, he tries to remain neutral. Drunk or not, you know the game you’re playing, and Stiles foolishly believes that his knowledge of the ploy makes him insusceptible. 
“Because you’re drunk,” he platonically rests his hands on your shoulders and encourages you off of him. “And we aren’t together anymore.” 
You turn around to face him, grinning up at him like the cat with the canary as you tell him, “it didn’t stop us last time, right?”
That, and the way you almost throw yourself at some guy walking past, is enough reason for Stiles to link his hand in yours and pull you towards the others. Scott stares down at your interlinked palms for only a moment before Stiles explains his plan, which entails getting you back to your apartment before you do something you could regret. 
This isn’t an excuse for Stiles to continue hanging out with you. He makes sure he clarifies that to himself and his best friend before he’s pulling you out of the bar and towards his Jeep.
You’re both less than ten steps away from the entrance to the bar when you suddenly have your lips pressed to Stiles’. 
There is a moment where Stiles fails to resist. Where he reciprocates quicker than his brain can realize, acting on pure instinct and muscle memory instead of logic. He is unable to stop himself from getting comfortable, from linking this kiss to the last one he’d received from you. Hotter and messier than this one. (Lost in his appreciation to finally be kissing you again, Stiles fails to notice how you don’t taste like alcohol at all)
Only a few more seconds pass before Stiles reminds himself that you’re drunk, and that this is wrong. When he pulls away from your lips—regretfully, that is—he’s tempted into staying by the slight stickiness of your lipgloss and the almost-disgusting string of saliva that briefly keeps you two sewn together. 
You try to lean back in, but Stiles stops you with his hands on your shoulders. 
“You’re drunk,” he reminds you. 
You’re fixing him with a look, one that feels strong and weirdly sober. His suspicions have more proof to back them up when you say his name with the same matter-of-fact tone he had just used on you. 
“I’m not drunk.” 
He scrunches his eyebrows together, the muscles in his face mimicking the movement as well. His lips part as he nonverbally exclaims his confusion. He lifts one of his hands from your shoulder to hook his thumb towards the bar entrance. He looks around, for nothing or no one in particular, but as if the night will have an explanation that you would surely be willing to provide if he asks. 
He didn’t even need to ask before you provide an explanation. It’s cut and dry, matter-of-fact, spoken like it is the most casual thing in the world. 
“I faked being drunk so you could take me home.” 
Stiles knows what you mean. He’s not dumb. But he surely does feel it when he says, “If you didn’t feel well you could’ve just told Lydia. She would’ve taken you back to yours.” 
You roll your eyes. “If you don’t wanna sleep with me, that’s fine. Just let me know before I waste my time.” 
Stiles should stand up for himself. He should reprimand your attitude, and exclaim how unnecessary it was. Instead, he flounders and almost falls to your feet with the speed he clarifies himself. 
“No. I do wanna sleep with you. Like, really bad. But … um … well,” you lift your eyebrows and Stiles clears his throat. “How many fingers am I holding up.” 
“Jesus, fuck, Stiles.” He continues holding up his first three fingers on his right hand until you answer. “Three.” 
You lean in but Stiles takes a step back. And then another. And then another, until he’s standing against the wall of the bar and you’re standing at the edge of the sidewalk. 
“Walk in a straight line towards me.” 
You don’t seem happy about it, but you place one foot in front of the other over and over again until you’re in front of Stiles. Nothing more has to be said before Stiles places his hands on your hips, pulls you flush to him, and finally allows himself to kiss you. 
It’s been a while since Stiles had the privilege of kissing you. The last time, just a month ago, didn’t count in his mind. Sure, he remembered nearly every detail, but your shared inebriated state at the time overruled any legitimacy the encounter could have held. Now, it only acts as a reminder and motivator for Stiles to enjoy every moment of this that he can. 
Eventually, it would be smart, and preferable, to leave the outside of the bar and actually take you home where you two could be alone. But for now, Stiles presses his hands into the middle of your back as a way to pull you as close to him as possible. He has his legs spread, creating space for your limbs to stagger. Your hands rest on his shoulders, then at the back of his neck, then in his hair. Both of you are attempting to get as close to the other as possible, all while engaging in the sloppiest kiss you’ve ever had. You both kissed cleaner when you were drunk. 
Now, outside this bar with your closest friends inside, and with nothing but the night (and the bouncer) as witness, you submit to the other. There is a level of appreciation in the way your lips slide together. There is a level of gratitude in the presses of your tongues against each other. There is an exorbitant amount of longing that is solved each time you jerk your hips into Stiles and each time he reciprocates. 
You thread your hands through Stiles’ hair the same time that he slides his hands down to your ass and squeezes, pulling you as close to him as possible and rubbing his thigh against the center seam of your jeans. You both groan into each other's mouths—Stiles from the way you tug just right on his hair, and you from the feeling of his leg between yours. 
Sensing—knowing that he did something right, something good, Stiles does it again. And again. And again. The steady slide of his thigh between your legs does the job. You let your head fall, leaning the top of it against Stiles’ chest just right under his sternum. 
The sound of you moaning Stiles’ name goes straight to his dick, with a few remnants traveling to his head, leaving him dizzy and with a steady growing semi. His actions make you grip his hair stronger. His actions indirectly cause pleasure for him, too. 
It all disappears when the sound of spitting—loud and boisterous, almost cartoonish—breaks up the moment. Stiles stops his movements. He lays his hands flat on the back pockets of your jeans as he turns his head to the side. 
The eyes of the bouncer meet Stiles and Stiles’ ears burn. 
While the bouncer doesn’t say anything to him, Stiles knows the message he’s trying to communicate. 
Get the fuck out of here. 
Stiles is forced to push you back by hooking his fingers in your belt loops. He’s still touching you, at least an extension of you, but then your hands drop to your sides and Stiles can feel his body crying out for you. The same way his body calls out for vital needs—food, water, sleep, entertainment. He squashes his emotions for a second, plasters on a—truthfully sympathetic—face, one that comes off more as a tight lipped smile than anything else. 
“Sorry, man. You — uh. You have a goodnight.” He throws a hand up to the bouncer, hoping it is received as friendly. When the bouncer returns the gesture, still with that same look in his eyes, Stiles heads down the street and pulls you with him. 
The walk to the car is tortuous. His boner keeps rubbing against his jeans, leaving him to stop every few paces, face away from the street, and try to adjust himself. After the third time, you were voicing your frustration, claiming that it was taking forever to reach the car because of Stiles’ worry about who could see his erection. He tries things your way, ignoring the way his dick calls for his attention and instead focusing all of his attention on you. 
The way your hips sway in your tight jeans. The way the wind blows your perfume to him and lifts the edge of your shirt in one, giving Stiles a peek of your skin. It’s such a small look, nothing more than a glimpse, and Stiles feels like a Victorian man the way he’s having to bite his fist at the next crosswalk to avoid groaning. The street lights illuminate your face in just the right ways, highlighting your makeup in an unnaturally ethereal way. Everything about you is driving Stiles crazy. There’s no way he’s going to make it to your house. If he doesn’t get to his car soon, he might pull you into the next bar bathroom that he could find just for a semblance of privacy. 
If he could just get to his Jeep. 
It’s then that Stiles realizes he’s been walking for far too long. He stops in the center of the sidewalk. You stop right beside him. 
Stiles doesn’t say anything as he turns around and leads you three blocks down the street, one street over, and then into the parking garage elevator. 
The way you’re grinning at him alerts Stiles of the words soon to come out of your mouth, definitely words that would be at his expense. He stops you while you’re ahead. 
It’s nice to have the position switched. Your back against the wall instead of his. His hands are still on your hips, but he uses them to push you into the metal instead of pulling you into him. You have that part covered, your arms once more thrown over his shoulders, pressed into the back of his neck and head, drawing him in until the pressure of his lips against yours is a little painful. 
In the rush neither of you have pushed the button, leaving the elevator stagnant on the ground floor. Stiles notices at the same time that you scratch his scalp. He moans, he really can’t help it. His mouth opens as you purse your lips again, and he feels a little bad but you aren’t deterred. In fact, you do it again, your nails scratching in just the right spot and Stiles feels like an animal the way he shudders and keens. 
He’s more human when he admits, “Missed this.” He presses his lips to yours again, pulling back with a smack. “Missed you.” 
Your lips slide against his with what Stiles can only describe as desperation. Pure, unadulterated desperation and desire. You’re breathing a little heavy, deep exhales through your nose and inhales in the in between moments, and it doesn’t turn Stiles off at all. He wants more of you. He takes more of you. 
He doesn’t know how long you two are in there, but it is eventually you who pulls back first, your lips visibly swollen and lacking any of the makeup that was previously on it. 
“Has the elevator been moving at all?” You could check for yourself. Just one look over Stiles’ shoulder and you could see that the small screen still displayed a digital ‘1’. Yet, you’re looking up at him instead. Like Stiles is the most important thing in the elevator. Like he’s the most important thing in the world to you. (Maybe it’s Stiles’ delusion talking, but he chooses to believe it either way)
Still, Stiles looks over his shoulder, confirms that he hadn’t hit the button at all, and leans back to correct his mistakes. 
The elevator beeps twice, bringing you both to the third floor, and as much as Stiles’ wants to continue standing there and just admire you, he can hear the door daring to slide close. Again, he pulls you out behind him. 
As soon as he turns the corner, Stiles is immediately made aware of the lack of other cars on the level. It’s a little eerie, and if he wasn’t about to get his dick wet he would possibly be on the lookout for potential threats that could turn one of the best moments of his life into another inconvenience. 
Your hands are on his shoulders, his back, his arms, as you hold onto him. 
“Why did you park all alone? Did you plan this? Were you trying to get in my pants all night?” 
Stiles digs into the front pocket of his jeans and searches for his keys. “No. There were other people parked here earlier. They’re just all gone now.” 
You hum unconvincingly. “Uh-huh. Whatever you say, Stiles.” 
As soon as Stiles has the passenger door unlocked, he holds the door open for you and stares, hoping the annoyance is overpowering every other feeling he’s currently having towards you. 
“In the back,” he tells you. You smile up at him, big and entertained, and then do as he says. 
He climbs in right behind you. At this point in the night, there was no point in attempting to get back to your apartment or his. Stiles couldn’t wait much longer, and you two are no stranger to the back of his Jeep. You’ve been in this situation before. 
It’s all completely effortless. You’re already in the process of slipping your jeans off whenever Stiles has the door closed. He mourns for just a second, pouting to himself over not being the one to take those sinful jeans off of you. But then you climb over his lap, situating yourself to hover just a bit above him. 
Stiles plants his hands on your hips, just like he did before, and pulls you to sit right over him, just like you have before. He knows that the status of your relationship has changed since the last time he had the privilege of being in this space with you like this, but that doesn’t mean the way you do things has to change, too. 
You were never shy before. You would always be quick to attach yourself to Stiles in whatever ways you could, just like you had been doing just a little earlier into the night. But that’s gone now. Now, you’re staring at him, your teeth pressed into your bottom lip. 
Before you were together for a short time, Stiles had spent months pining. Months analyzing whatever he could about you. Months mentally cataloging your tells. And now, he calls on that information to declare that you’re hesitant. You’re nervous. No, not just nervous. You’re worried. Almost regretful. 
He tilts his head. “What’s wrong?” 
You shrug but Stiles knows you’re aware of what has you like this. He just gives you the time to voice it. 
Eventually, you say: “Will this change anything between us?” 
It’s his turn to shrug. “I dunno. Do you want anything to change?” 
You shrug again. 
“Well … do you want to keep going? And we decide that afterwards?” Stiles really wants to fuck you, but deep down he knows that if you stopped and got up off of him in this moment, he would be okay with it. Well, he would be okay with it after a few days. Maybe a week or two. 
A little part in him swells, jumps, and clicks its heels when you nod. 
“Yeah. That sounds good.” You press your lips to his once. 
“You just tell me when you decide, okay? I’m cool with whatever you’re cool with.” And Stiles means that. If he gets just one more time with you, if this is his final time with you, he would cut his losses and be grateful for the time that he was allowed. What else was he supposed to do? He would never dream of doing anything that could jeopardize his spot in your life. 
Stiles can feel the warmth of your center is his hand when he trails his touch down. He cups your mound and his eyes flutter shut. He feels like a pervert for only a second before you start to work your lips down his neck and rock your hips into his hand. The way your mouth suctions around his favorite spot almost has him distracted enough to not notice your hands working on his pants. Almost. 
He can’t really tell in the dark, but he can slightly feel your once confident movements start to falter. You stop on his neck, keeping your lips as nothing but a pucker against his skin before you pull away completely to look down between the two of you. 
“When the fuck did you start wearing a belt?” 
Stiles doesn’t want to tell you the truth, he feels like it would be too embarrassing. Really, he knows it wouldn’t, but something about having to tell you that he decided to wear a belt because you always said he should makes him feel a little meek. So instead of filling the silence with the truth, he fills the silence with the clinks of his belt buckle as he undos it himself. 
“Recently,” is all he tells you when you’re still staring at him for a response. Somehow, it’s enough for you and your hands are back on his waistband. 
In record speed, your hands are down the elastic of his boxers and wrapping around Stiles’ cock. He doesn’t hiss, but he does shudder. He tries to hide it by pretending that the car is cold, which it was beforehand, but now it’s warm. It becomes warmer when you spit in your hand, wrap it around Stiles’ cock and pump him a few times, and then push your underwear to the side and hover above him. 
It really pains Stiles to stop you, but he does. He asks if you have a condom, then he asks if you want to use a condom, and the entire time he’s kicking himself. Because he can feel the warmth radiating. He has his tip already nudged between your folds, and just this small touch is already making him lose it. His nails are digging into your hips, he’s breathing harder than he was before, and he has to blink a few times to really focus on you. 
It feels like Stiles blinks and suddenly you’re tearing the foil packet open and slipping the condom over him. He watches it go down as best as he can, and the light doesn’t reveal much. Just the bottom of you and the tip of him is visible, the rest Stiles is forced to make out through squints and memorization. 
He’s just briefly dejected about the lack of visuals, but then your hands rest on his shoulders and he hears you take a breath and he knows it’s time. 
Stiles rests his hands on your side and looks up at you. 
You go down slowly. Softly. It allows Stiles to feel each delicious inch as they go by, revealing more and more of the inside of you as time passes. He battles between watching your face and simply basking in it. Eventually, he settles on the former. 
Your eyebrows are tightened just enough to show your discomfort. You have your lips parted, long breaths leaving them every so often, usually right before you sink down again. And Stiles has seen you take him before. He knows that you have been able to take him faster than this before. And then he wonders: is this your first time doing this, with anyone, in a while? Have you been as lost without him as he has been without you? Have you even attempted to fill that hole, and was your stunt earlier tonight just that: a stunt?
There isn’t time for him to ponder over his questions like he would have wanted to whenever you bottom out. It’s with a sigh, the back of your thighs meeting the top of his just briefly. 
You rest your forehead against his, and you both breathe together. Or, it’s more so you breathing and Stiles matching the pattern. 
You lean up, you move your hair out of your face, and you tell him, “Don’t remember it being this hard.” 
Slightly cocky, Stiles tilts his head.  At first he doesn’t say anything. He smiles, his eyes are heavy when they look you up and down, and then he rubs your back. “Take your time.” 
You take the time you need and then you start moving. Up and down. Up and down. Agonizingly slowly at first, and then faster when you get more comfortable. 
This is what Stiles has needed. This is what he has been missing in his life. You’re like a drug for him, and one hit seems like enough at the time, but by the time this is all over he knows he’s going to be searching for more. He’ll do anything he has to, so long as it gets him in a spot similar to this again. 
He searches for your hand, refusing to look away from the way your body moves atop of him for even a second. You help him out, bringing your hand to his, pressing the fingertips together, leaving Stiles to interlock them. He lifts your hands, looking at them in the white light that enters the foggy window. Somehow, this image is even more captivating. There is a more pornographic way the two of you are connected, one that demands Stiles’ attention. There is something about the innocence of this. He’s doing nothing but holding your hand, and Stiles feels like he might either lose his mind, or cum too quickly. 
He might do both. One after the other. 
You sink down on him again, a little awkwardly this time, but it does it for you. You hit a spot that makes your mouth widen and your eyes flutter shut. You search for it, and find it miraculously. Your head throws back as you hit that spot over and over again, pleasing yourself on Stiles’ dick. The image is heavenly for him. It’s euphoric. 
He lets his eyes wander down your neck, along your clavicle, and your shirt reveals just a bit of your bust but it’s not enough. With his free hand, he pulls the rest of the fabric down, and when he sees that you’re not wearing a bra, he almost cums into the condom then and there. He doesn’t wonder how he hadn’t noticed, he doesn't consider how he hadn’t taken into account the natural shape of your breasts pushing through the fabric, almost reaching out to him. Instead, he leans forward, presses his hand into the curve of your back, and attaches his mouth to the untouched skin. 
Your free hand sinks into Stiles’ hair. Your fingers weave through the back of his hair first, and then you make your way up to the front, pushing back his bangs blindly. 
Stiles peers up at you from his spot around your nipples. You’re still in ecstasy—your head now level once more, but your mouth still open and your eyes still closed. 
He detaches from your nipple to tell you: “Look at me.” 
It fuels Stiles’ ego when you do as told quickly. 
You’re looking at him on his command yet Stiles feels like he’s the one entranced. Because of your eyes. Fuck, your eyes. Watery, lazy, but your pupils are dilated. Your mascara has transferred to under your eyes by now, and it’s smudged a bit, making you look completely fucked out. Stiles thinks some of your makeup along your face has disappeared too, but it allows for a fresh skinned appearance instead. 
Really, there is nothing else for him to do except kiss you. It’s so messy but so good. You flatter in your movements on his cock, but Stiles feels absolutely no remorse when he takes over. 
He unlocks your hands and plants them both on your hips again. This time, he uses the leverage to pull you down on him again and again. He lets you lead the kiss, while he leads this. 
Your hands land on the leather of the seat behind Stiles' back and the foggy glass pane of the window. He hears your fingertips glide down the surface as he starts to fuck you harder, and then the sound is combined with your moans when your lips separate from Stiles’. 
You call his name, low and breathy. 
He hums. 
“‘m so close. Keep going. Just like that.” He nods. Then you add, “Little faster.” And he does as told. 
Your forehead pressed against his, the sweat on both of your skin making your heads glide more than anticipated. It doesn’t deter either of you. When your nose bumps against Stiles’, he kisses you again. When your head becomes too heavy for you to hold it up, he presses his thumb under your jaw, rests his fingers on the side of your neck, and holds the weight for you. 
“You’re so pretty,” he tells you, adding your name at the end to seal the deal. “Baby,” he says, and his heart swells when you hum in response. So he says it again. “Baby, you feel so good. Feel so good, babe.” 
He doesn’t know what more he says. He can vaguely recognize his lips forming the words and his own voice in his ears calling you the prettiest girl ever, telling you that he could never get this anywhere else, telling you he never wanted to get this from anywhere else. 
“Needed this so bad. I needed you so bad. I’ve missed you.” And just as his words finish, yours begin. 
“Stiles, Stiles. Right there. ‘m … I’m…!” 
He singles two fingers out, slips them between your thighs, and rubs along your clit until you’re shaking above him and holding onto his wrist between your bodies. He doesn’t know if you’re trying to pull him closer or push him away, but watching you cum is too gorgeous for him to ever dream of making it stop. 
So he doesn’t. 
Not even when your eyes start to leak and your lips start to plead and you contract around him. 
“One more,” he asks. “I just need to see it one more time. Please.” 
The sound of him moving in and out of you is loud. He drifts his eyes down to watch it happen, groaning when he just barely sees a broken ring of white glinting in the fluorescents from the parking garage. 
It feels a little romantic when you cum and then Stiles follows right after. 
The Jeep is warm, the windows are foggy, and there’s an ache in Stiles’ thighs. He knows for every one of his aches, you have three. The condom has been removed, tied, and disposed of in an old paper bag Stiles had sitting on the floor of his car. His pants are pulled back up, but his belt is still undone. His shirt sticks to his skin and he really needs greasy food and a shower. 
But if that means leaving this moment, and never returning to it, he could put off his needs and wants for an eternity. 
You’re sitting next to him, redressed with the button of your jeans still undone. You’re staring straight ahead, trying to catch your breath as you rub the muscles in your thighs. 
Stiles doesn’t know what to say, so he licks his lips and he says, “Uh … do you … um. Would you like some … ice or something? For your legs?” 
You smile ahead, turn to face him, and shake your head. “It’ll be fine. Nothing a shower and good sleep won’t fix.” You pause. “And maybe some food.” 
Which is how Stiles ends up sitting in your bed, sipping the remnants of his Dr. Pepper as he watches you lather lotion on your legs with your towel still hanging off of your body. 
“Your food’s cold,” he tells you. He doesn’t tell you about the handful of fries he stole earlier, but he knows you’ll notice it and hold the grudge for later. 
Later. Will there be a ‘later’? 
“Be there in a second.” You start to walk back to the bathroom. “Should we go to that place in the morning? Or …” you look at your clock and wince at the time. “Later. The one with the really good pancakes?” 
Stiles is quick to agree. He would love to do something with you later. 
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m-ayo-o · 4 months
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regarding the recent megumi drabble.........hickeys.....lipstick marks.....all over his abs.....and then you go lower....and lower......
that's too hot tho :( i need u to live in my inbox please   said megumi drabble regarding his fine abs 18+ oral / afab reader x 21+ megumi 1.2k wc
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After your boyfriend treated you to such a sensual ride on his abs, the following day you just had to repay the favour… you know he's not expecting it– his selfless nature means he only cares about making you feel good, even if he's stiff and bursting through his pants. 
But tonight you're still feeling that intense obsession with his body– as always– and it really isn't helped when he steps out of the shower, all hot with that dreamy, relaxed look in his eyes, his body covered in droplets of water with steam escaping the small room adjacent to your bedroom.
Your tapping and scrolling on your phone is soon forgotten when you look up in time to see him remove the towel from around his waist– you hold your breath and stare.
He gives his hair a rough towel dry then starts swiping the cotton over his body, collecting the beads of water that rest over his defined muscles. It's not like he's trying to turn you on… but everything he's doing just looks so sensual. He pats his pale skin dry and you admire the jet black hairs around his body– all trimmed neatly, how his arms flex, then the ridges of his adonis belt and further down… and you think god he takes care of himself. 
You know he works so hard... you want to show him how much it means, and how lucky you are to have such a perfect boyfriend. 
So you stand up and approach him slowly, slinking towards him in your cute nightie. 
“Megumi~?” 
“Mhm?”
“Did I ever tell you…” you pause and take the towel in your hand, “how pretty you are?” 
He snorts a little and releases the damp material, and you drop it on the floor, leaving him completely naked. 
“I'm not kidding,” you insist, trying your best serious face with the king of stoic expressions. You place your hands delicately on his chest and run your fingers up his neck, earning a little crack in the thin line of his lips. 
Starting to rise on your tiptoes, you inch closer to his face. 
“Can I show you, please, how perfect you are.. to me?” 
You know you tell him very often, and you know he appreciates that. Your kindness and sweet words have done wonders for his confidence (perhaps a little too much). But you love it when he accepts your love and compliments and you can tell he feels so comfortable in himself. And of course, he always shows you how much he loves you… but for you, he has started to open that pretty mouth of his and tell you. It means the world to you. 
But now it's your turn to take his approach. So you run your fingers into his inky black hair and bring him into a long and slow kiss. You take the lead, peppering the corner of his mouth then nibbling at his lower lip. You forget that you were still wearing your makeup from earlier when you see smudges on his lips. He won't mind. 
He opens up with a little sigh and you sink into one another. Losing yourself almost entirely, you step over to the bed and press his naked body down, until he's lying under you. Your nightie fans out over his hips and you sit right on the growing bulge of his crotch. It always makes you so excited that it only takes a few kisses and touches to get him hard. 
Your lips move down his body now, still taking it so slow, touching him gently and humming his name, repeating those sweet compliments till he's smiling like an idiot and telling you to stop. He's going to get such an ego if you're not careful. 
But you keep going, skimming your lips over his collarbones and chest, leaving pretty pinkish marks over his body. 
“Mm~” he likes how your lips feel on him… so warm and tender, but he wants a little more, “kiss me harder, baby~” 
And you can't deny your man's sweet request, as you open your mouth and swirl your tongue over his pec before sucking a little bruise on his body. Everything is so dainty with you, even in the way you leave marks on him. They're not like the wide and deep bruises he paints over your neck, but smaller and smattered over his body as he tells you to keep going. 
Your love bites and lipstick stains shower his chest, where you give his nipples a teasing suck, then dip lower over his ribcage, finally reaching the sculpted muscles of his abs. 
Feeling aware of yours and his arousal, you can't help licking and biting him sensually until your lipstick is all smudged. 
And he keeps moaning for more– you know he's feeling totally spellbound by what you're doing to him, so you kiss and suck your way down the ridges of his body till your fingers find those neat dark hairs between his legs. You take the base of his now full and perfectly curved erection in your hand and he shivers. 
“Uhh~~ mmh~” he gulps down a little moan– you surprised him with your assertive motions, knowing that's what he wanted. 
And it's his lucky day, because he doesn't have to ask you to keep going and you take his tip in his mouth and–
“Mmhnm~~ ththankyou, oh god that feels good, princess~”
He hums his praise and wraps his fingers in your hair till you're bobbing up and down eagerly. You wanna take him all the way back– you always try so hard till you gag on him. But, he just finds that even hotter– the sounds you make, the way your spit drips from the smudged pink stains on your lips, and how you have to pull away to gasp for air make him want to finish all over your face.
And he imagines that now, as he takes your neck and makes you swallow him down again and again, repeating this motion till you're tearing up. 
“Sorry- sorry baby~ can't stop– too– ahh– f-fucking good–”
He isn’t going to last long. 
“Gh-mhmm~~”
It's not easy, but you'll happily choke on him till you run out of air. And that eagerness, the way you keep nodding and taking him deeper and further back makes him harder and he starts to lose control.
“Fuck me you take my dick- so fucking well, princess-” 
“Mmmmhm~” 
You nod and swirl your tongue around him so sensually and he swears he sees you try to smile even with your mouth stuffed full and he can’t believe how beautiful you look and– 
“‘m-m cumming– “ he holds the back of your neck really hard, dragging your throat over his dick one more time as he spills his load. He uses your mouth to milk him slower and slower, until he lets go of your neck and you clean him up, taking time to suck on his tip to make him shudder with overstimulation before finally releasing him. 
You take the biggest breath and wipe your mouth, then collapse on his thighs, panting with a giddy smile on your face. You feel his fingers in your hair as he showers you with praise once more, telling you how good you were for him, letting him cum down your throat like that… and how hot you look with your makeup all ruined. 
You lift your head up, eyes scanning over his gorgeous body once more, to see those rosy prints of your lips all over him and you swear you could do it all over again.
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