If Only He Were A Male Seahorse

helloooooooo.

💭: sucking rafe’s fingers and looking at him like ‘🥺’ while sitting on his lap and grinding on his hard on ♡ i can clearly picture him looking at me with his mouth slightly open and hazy eyes 💕

– 🪽 anon

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he can already feel the lace of your panties covering your cunt through his shorts when you straddle his lap, being all sweet on him. you’d just arrived at tannyhill, rafe having the house to himself for a while with sarah and wheezie gone and his dad off to another country on some business trip he wasn’t allowed in on.

“y’know we — we could be livin’ like this soon. i mean this place, all ours. my dads thinking of selling this place but what— what he doesn’t know is that m’gonna buy it off him if he does… so he might aswell just give it to me…” he rambles, intense gaze pinning you where you’re sat. you’re the only one who listens to his fanatical plans and believes them, because rafe always gets things done no matter what— he handled everything for you.

your eyes widen yourself, a smile on your face. “really?” you gleam, thighs tightening around his lower body in excitement and he nods, proud smile on his face.

“uh-huh. can start our life together baby, isn’t that —amazing? can have everything the way we want… n’no one’s gonna tell us we can’t…” he muses, the two of you feeding off eachothers happiness, a inkling of insanity and obsession burning in your subconsciouses. his smile melts into a collected smirk, hands squeezing your hips. “can be my little housewife when we get everything figured out… how ‘bout that?”

you suck on your bottom lip, pink hearts practically forming in your pupils as you nod eagerly, wanting to hear more. your hips twitch at the excitement and his cock jumps in his boxers beneath you. you always got eachother hyped up like this, like there was a surge of electricity that flowed through the two of you as one joint unit, travelling through where his hands touched your skin.

“oh you like that idea huh? lemme think, yeah— yeah i’ll get a big shiny rock on that lil’ finger. every girl this side o’the islands g’nna want your head for that, baby. yeah. have you waiting here for me all pretty in those little skirts you like, waitin’ for me to come home from doin’ business… take my suit off for me so i c’n fuck some cameron babies into you… want that with me don’t you, sweetheart?” his voice drops lower as he speaks, feeling the way you grind your cunt against his hardening cock. you’re hanging onto every word, brows furrowed— eyes locked on his. he can feel you panting, your hot breath washing over his own lips as he tilts his head, head leaning against the chair he’s sat on slightly.

“fuck, these pretty lips.” he gets distracted, eyes on your mouth as his hand comes up to drag a thumb along your bottom lip, smearing the gloss around and pulling the plumpness of it down to rub his thumb along the inside of the lip. muscle memory from his coke head days, surely.

your tongue peeks out as you whine, speeding up your movements as you shamelessly hump on him, tasting the salt of his skin off the pad of his coarse thumb. he slots it into your mouth and lets you suck before replacing the thumb with two of his fingers, practically stuffing them into your mouth making your eyes water and brows furrow at the intrusion.

he’s frowning a little in concentration as he watches you suck on them sweetly, grinding and fighting for his approval. “g’nna get that throat nice and ready for me soon. thats uh—” he chuckles to himself before he completes the sentence, knowing its crude. “thats one of your housewife duties, you know?” he grins toothily, eyes never leaving your mouth once.

he looks at you once he pulls the digits out, wiping them carelessly on your cheek as you whine, trembling as you feel your stomach start to tense. “really gonna cum on my pants aren’t you?” he drawls, shaking his head “all ‘cos i promised you that good life, huh. ‘least i know you’ll never leave me. like this shit too much, don’t you?” his voice drops to a low mumble only you could hear as he smushes your cheeks, bringing your lips to his just as you’re about to reach your peak. it sounds so degrading coming from him, but you couldn’t even argue. he was right.

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ever since you’d started working at dunder mifflin, you’d had a thing for jim.

maybe it was a competency thing. he was smart, like not just computer smart — but the way he spoke. it was always so witty, smooth, somehow managing to mask the fact you could tell he’d always been a dork with the fact he’s funny, attractive and tall.

you’d catch yourself staring at him from your reception desk. watching him sell paper to a customer on the phone, pushed out from his desk with long gangly limbs sticking out, stretched legs protruding from the smooth wooden workspace. he’d always catch you, and after a while you stopped minding — taking more than a second to tear your lustful gaze away as you’d twirl that pen with the pink fluffy lid round and round. jim would often blink unsurely like he wasn’t sure if he’d just hallucinated it, shaking himself out of it quickly before stumbling over his words and continuing his call. you enjoyed getting a reaction out of him.

because you were so sweet and shy, it took longer than necessary for the two of you to become a thing. it was only after he’d stood up for you to dwight after the tall farmer had been picking on you all day, that you’d made the brave move to kiss jim in the parking lot at the end of your shift. since then you’d only gotten more handsy.

“are you okay? got a real stare on you today. feel like you’re gonna laser me with your eyes.” jim banters as you stand beside him in the break room, watching his large hands punch in the numbers in the vending machine to the snack he wanted.

“just ovulating.” you sigh softly making him perform a subtle double take in your direction as he leans down to scoop up the snack that fell from the machine.

“you’re— oh! right. well that’s… great.”

“means i want you.” you pout, an impish and impatient furrow to your brow as you reach forward and cup the heavy bulge in his work pants making him instantly double over in surprise.

“wh— oh wow okay— hey, there are cameras everywhere. you do — you do remember that right?” he blinks at you urgently, removing your hands and you giggle giddily, enjoying winding jim up. he’s always sexier when he’s a little irritated anyway.

“jim.” you whine and he looks around with that worried frown before grabbing your hand and dragging you out the office to the direction of the warehouse.

“the warehouse?” you’re practically ecstatic. not only was he going along with your nympho attitude, but he wanted to fuck you somewhere so risky. it was so unlike him.

“no cameras and, it’s kinda what you deserve right now. can’t treat you respectfully if you don’t act it.” he shrugs a shoulder, taking advantage of the fact that all of the workers were on their break to guide you into a small nook right in the back. “this should be good enough.” he pats the walls enclosing you, not sturdy in the slightest and you’re instantly reaching for his belt.

you think he’s gonna be mean, but then again — it’s not really jim’s style, as irritated as he gets, he’s too vanilla to be mean at heart. the sandy haired man stops your grabby hands, pulling them gently to the side and giving you a faux-disapproving look, clucking his tongue and shaking his head as he closes in on you, beginning to work your skirt up to your waist.

“uh, i think you were the one that wanted something. ladies first.” he shovels his hand into your panties, cupping your heat as he leans in for a kiss but stops just infront of your lips so they’re grazing and your breath mingles. “you were sitting there at reception this wet?” he emphasises, pulling back half a centimetre to raise his eyebrows at you sympathetically and you nod, holding your breath. “sweetie!” he coos quietly, tilting his head like he’s about to slot his lips right up on yours, but they stay simply grazing eachother. “poor thing.” he teases, before the kiss commences, and those long fingers take a break from the keyboards to work on you instead.

mee sorry

the most annoying person you know is having some very normal thoughts about these 4 sitting by each other

🥹🥹💗

the feeling |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: a little tipsy, definitely hungry, and missing carmen, you find your way to the restaurant after closing to see him.

my first work/ blurb here <3 I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!!

contains: 18+minors dni. mentions of a gun and alcohol but not in a bad way lol? established relationship. slight mentions of a dom/sub dynamic. language. but really just fluff fluff fluff <3

"Yo! We're fucking closed!" Richie's voice boomed, throwing down the rag on the table. He huffed, teeth gritting, trying to remember to count yet he was still reaching for the gun in holster. Sure, he could be calm, but he still needed to be safe.

The pounding on the glass continued, a muffled, giggly scream from the other side of the blinds hiding the entrance. "Richie! Let us innnn!"

"Cousin," Carmen yelled from the back, running a bandaged hand through his curls. "What's goin' on?"

Richard rolled his eyes, peeking through the blinds to confirm his suspicions. Just as he thought, there you were, standing on the sidewalk in fucking Chicago with your heels in your hand, leaning onto your friend for support. Carmy was gonna be pissed, that was for certain.

"It's your girl." Richie scoffed, twisting the lock so it unfastened with a loud click, the bell trilling when he pulled it open.

"Richie!" You cheered, staggering on your feet. "Told you they'd still be here." You told Alicia, looping an arm around hers.

"My girl?" Carmen repeated, pushing the swinging doors of the kitchen, heavy chef's clogs on the freshly mopped ground.

"The hell you doin'?" Richie looked at you, face deadpanned and unimpressed. His arm held the door open for you and your friend anyways, jerking his head so the two of you huddled in.

"We did karaoke tonight." You grinned at Richie, clutching the nearest booth when you passed to steady yourself.

Karaoke night was a once a month occurrence, down at Trader Todd's. Carmen had went twice with you and Alicia before, it was a little too touristy for him, but he liked watching you sing. He'd laughed so hard his sides hurt when you serenaded a Nickelback song to him because "it seemed like something he'd like". It was good, nice to laugh like that. It was nice to be with you.

Carmen furrowed his brow, hands thrown out towards you lightly. "What are ya doin'?" He asked, rag slung over his shoulder.

You rolled your lip, eyes trailing down his tattooed, veiny arms. "Just left karaoke." You hummed, striding playfully over to him. "Got hungry and I just so happen to know a place with the best fries in the world."

Carmen snorted when you looped your arms around his neck, swaying with him gently. Richie huffed, eyeing Alicia at the booth. "We're closed. Didn't you see the sign?"

"Can't make an exception for us?" You pouted, looking over your shoulder at Richie. "C'mon, we came all this way for nothing? Not a single fry?"

"You walked here?" Carmen's eyes flashed at you.

"You need a cuppa coffee is what you need." Richie rolled his eyes, ignoring his cousin's comment.

"Ooh, I'd take a cup of coffee." Alicia nodded, head propped on her hand at the freshly cleaned booth, still a little wet and sticky. "And a slice of cake."

"Mmm," You nodded in agreement, grinning at her.

"Hey," Carmen's hand cradled your jaw gently, tugging your gaze back to him. "Did you walk here?"

"No." You rolled your eyes playfully at him, curling into his calloused hands anyways. "We Ubered."

"Good." Carmen hummed, his hand pressing to the small of your back, pushing you closer into his touch. "I'd have your ass if you did, you hear me?" He muttered, low and gravelly in your ear, hand trailing down to the swell of your ass, squeezing the fatty flesh through your dress. A warning or simply just him being playful, you weren't sure, but you flushed nonetheless, knees buckling.

"Kitchen's closed." Carmen announced, looking at you and Alicia, both your boos and cries of protest a chorus bouncing off the empty walls. "But I'll make you a fresh pot of coffee and see if we have any left over cake, but you," His finger poked your side, leaving you squealing and squirming in his grasp. "Have to clean up."

"Yes, Chef." You saluted him playfully.

Carmen rolled his eyes, but pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. Brief and light, not nearly the same kiss he gave you this morning before he left for work. When you were still rolled up in the warm covers, eyes fluttering with sleep, the light of the morning on your skin.

Carmen patted your ass lightly, before turning back to go to the kitchen. You grinned triumphantly, snagging two forks and napkins before sliding into the booth across from Alicia. Richie's face fell, dropping the rag on the table he was cleaning.

"Oh, no fuckin' way. Cousin!" Richie yelled, stomping towards the kitchen. "Carmen, we're closed!"

"I got is, cousin. You can go." Carmen nodded towards the door, scooping the ground beans into the pot. "Gotta take them home anyways. I'll finish up."

Richie's face fell slightly, eyes bouncing from Carmen back to you and your friend, giggling over your phones, slumped into the booths.

Carmen looked at him, brow raised at his displeasure. "What?"

Richie huffed. "I just finished cleanin' the tables, and-and I'm tryin' real hard here to help you out and be better, but cousin, you gotta-"

"-They'll clean it up." Carmen said firmly, pressing the button firmly. "Or my girl will. I'll make sure of it, alright? I got it."

"Carmy-"

"-Look, Richie, I appreciate you helping me. I do. You've done real good too." Carmen said genuinely. "But I got it covered. Why don't you go sit with them? Tell Alicia the Bill Murray story, she'll like it." He nodded towards your friend.

Richie's ears perked, turning to look at the girl across from you. His love life was still shit, that was for sure, bad date after bad date. "You think?" Richie asked in a low tone.

Carmen shrugged casually. "Sure, yeah. Watch. Hey, baby," Carmen called to you. "You ever told Alicia about when Richie met Bill Murray?"

"Oh my God, no." You giggled, head tipping back onto the booth.

"Wait," Alicia looked over at Richie with a small grin. "Bill Murray? Ghostbusters, Bill Murray?"

"Yes, holy shit, Richie you hafta tell her." You giggled, tapping the table lightly. "He got him to do his voicemail and-"

"- Hold on, you gotta start from the beginning or it'll make no sense." Richie held his hands up, sauntering over to the two of you. "Alright, so I'm absolutely hammered. It's six-forty-five in the fucking morning, me and Mikey are leavin' the bar just drunk outta our minds..." Richie pulled a chair up to the table, exaggeratedly launching into his story.

Carmen smirked to himself, cutting two slices of cake and plating them off the still warm, clean dishes. He could hear Richie's voice trilling louder and louder, your laugh a delicate melody that soothed his chest, filled it with warmth.

Carmen slid beside you, just in time for the voice mail, setting your coffee and plate next to you. You muttered a small thank you, pressing a kiss to his cheek before you moved into his side.

"No shit, it's still your voicemail?" Alicia gasped, eyes shining at Richie's

"Swear to God." Richie held his hands up. "Call it right now, you'll hear it."

Alicia looked over at you. You nodded, picking up your fork. "It's true."

"Well, now I gotta hear it for myself." Alicia declared, snatching her phone off the table. "What's your number?"

Richie flushed for a second, faltering before he sputtered out the number. You looked up at Carmen, brows raised in amusement. He shrugged lightly, pushing the coffee closer to you. "Drink it f'me, please."

You cradled the still steaming mug, lifting it to your lip while Alicia's jaw dropped, hearing Bill Murray's voice on the other end. "Oh my God!" She gasped, laughing. "That is so fucking amazing!"

"Thank you!" Richie threw a hand out to her. "It is fucking amazing. My proudest accomplishment- well, beside my daughter, of course, but a close second."

"How old is your daughter?" Alicia scooted closer, lashes batting towards Richie as he pulled out his phone to flick through photos.

You smirked, looking up at Carmen. "Thanks for the cake," You hummed, resting your head on his arm. "And the coffee."

"Anything for you, c'mon." Carmen shrugged, trying to hide the blush he felt rising in his cheeks. He hadn't done this before, really, had a relationship like this. One that felt this good. One where he felt this safe with someone.

"I'll clean it up, promise." You yawned, lashes fluttering, while your head fell heavier and heavier pressed on his bicep. "Hand wash 'em if you want me too."

"I know you will." Carmen muttered, shimmying his arm out so he could wrap it around you, letting you fall into his chest.

He didn't let you clean up, though. You stayed half awake, a little woozy and sleepy in the booth, listening to Alicia and Richie's playful flirting. You'd tried to get up, but he snatched the plate gently from you before you could, nodding at you to stay put.

You held his hand the whole way back to the apartment, resting in the center console, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. Richie had offered to take Alicia home, which she eagerly agreed to, leaving the two of you to return to your own place.

Carmen shimmying your dress off you gently, tucking you under the covers with him. The apartment didn't have the same haunting presence here that his old one did. Not tainted with nightmares or fears. No, here he felt good. Happy memories he'd created with you, loving ones that filled his chest with contentment. He still had his moments, waking in a cold sweat screaming and clinging to you, but they were becoming scarcer with each day. He took care of you, and you took care of him- it was everything he'd ever fucking wanted.

raw, next question

The Nicole piastri podcast special has changed my life like Oscar piastri is such a treasure what a boy … he used to pretend to be a car …. He only wanted to hear car magazines instead of bedtime stories … like I need to be sedated

baaaaaaby boy

The polite clapping. The subtle eyeroll. The nose/mouth twitch. 10/10

ariana for r.e.m. beauty.

All I want for Christmas is a 6'2 CEO of Wayne Enterprises.

first pole position ✨