hi lovely, was wondering if you would be able to write any hotch x bombshell!reader ? maybe before they got together or any scenario/prompt you feel like!
take care of yourself and have a great day!!💝💝
The problem with Aaron Hotchner is that he’s too lovely for his own good. He might not think of himself that way. Not many, if any, of the office would agree. Morgan thinks Hotch is a hard-ass and Elle likes him in her way, but she rolls her eyes when he gets snippy, and Spencer… well, you think you and Spencer are probably on the same page.
Hotch is kind, and a good man, and if he looks handsome when he’s frustrated that’s just how nature intended it to be.
“Stop it.”
“No.”
“Stop.” Hotch levels you with a look over his computer. You’re surprised he knows how to use it, considering the semi-permanent callus on the pointer finger of his right hand. You must’ve watched him pen a thousand case files, consults and forms in a love letter to the old ways.
He types slowly, but you’ve decided to keep your comment about it to yourself. “You’re looking at me like you know something I don’t,” he says.
“Maybe I do.”
“I’m sure you do. Stop bragging.”
You lean on your elbow on the desk. He’s got a file open in front of him he’s transcribing for the sake of security. It details a case from a few months ago, and each line of the investigation is printed in Hotch’s neat script, lilting to the left over time. He frowns as he turns a page and realises it’s practically margin to margin with detail.
You want to offer to do it for him, but he’ll say no. You want to slide your foot up the leg of his slacks to see if he’ll blush as he did last Friday when you’d done the same thing, Gideon in the doorway none the wiser and somehow disapproving regardless.
And Hotch, he’d laughed like a kid when the door closed, not turned on in the slightest but endeared by the guts it took you to try. Then he’d sort of enticed you around the desk somehow —you don’t remember the before of it, only slinking to his side with your heels tumbled on their sides under the desk still, his palms wide and open as you settled on a wooden corner.
“I’m pretty good on the computer.”
“I know,” Hotch says. “I authorised your computing and communications technology seminar myself.”
“I was good at it before the mandatory company training garbage,” you say without heat, wondering how you might entice him over your side of the desk. Flirting aloud doesn’t work. Neither does footsie, and besides, what fun is that for you? But he’d looked at you in this strange way, none of his commanding sternness about him. A smile lingered on his lips; he can’t have known he was smiling at all, or it wouldn’t have shown. He’d left something honest there for you to see.
Maybe it’s in your best interest to let down your own walls for a minute, too.
“I could help,” you say. “Perhaps not from the same file, but I can get the laptop and start on the Maryland stuff. If you like.”
He looks at you steadily over the computer. His eyes seem lighter, the suspicious set to his mouth oddly close to smiling. “What do you want?” he teased quietly.
“Nothing. Just figured it would make your life easier.”
“When have you ever made my life easier?”
Your smile slips before you can stop it. Immediately, Hotch isn’t smiling either. The, “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that, honey,” almost doesn’t reach you, over that sharp second of hurt.
“It’s fine.” You plaster on a smile again to save him the trouble. “I know you didn’t.”
“No, really. I didn’t mean that.”
“Hotch,” you say, thumbing over his name slowly, “I know. We were teasing.”
“Flirting,” he corrects.
Your smile is real, then. “Flirting?” you ask. “That’s rather forward. Flirting might imply we like one another enough to, oh, I don’t know, help each other with our overflowing workloads?”
He looks at you, all dark and him, steady, strong, all the stupid things that draw you in. You’re not just in it for his arms, however tightly corded they might seem when he’s pulling off his tie after a long day. “You do more than enough for me just sitting there,” he says, holding your gaze with a careful casualness that has your heart tripping in your chest. “Can you do that for me?”
“Do what? Just sit here looking pretty?”
His shoe touches your ankle. “Exactly,” he says quietly. “Just sit there exactly as you are. I promise I don’t need anything else from you.”
Warmed from the inside out, you sit back in your chair. Grinning like a fool. “Why didn’t you just say that?” you ask. Any chance at sounding casual is lost when your voice comes out gossamer thin.
He looks you over appraisingly. “See?” he says, turning back to his case file. “Thank you, honey. You’re a big help.”
You swing one leg over the other to get comfortable, crossing your arms over your stomach smugly. “I know.”
𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥
𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝟭𝟬: 𝘆𝘂𝗸𝗶 𝘁𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗼𝗱𝗮 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 | 𝗮𝗯-𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴/𝗳𝗿𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗲
📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: your mental state is suffering–you’re not sure if you can handle alphatauri posting another thirst trap of your boyfriend to disguise their inability to build a car that doesn’t break within the first ten laps. but, when yuki posts his own half-naked picture on main? he’s asking for it, at this point. clearly, he’s been spending too much time with pierre. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. ab-riding. pierre gasly is his own warning. no penetrative sex. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: yuki tsunoda x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: drabble. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: best friend • saweetie ft. doja cat
𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: this is actually the dirtiest fic, in theory yk. yuki has my heart, and i'm single handedly going to fill tumblr with my posts about him, thank you, good night.
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cross-posted on my ao3, htppsss
to see what kinktober uploads have already been completed or to see what's coming next check my f1 kinktober masterlist ! for all of my works see my general masterlist!
you can’t stand his smug ass smirk. he knows damn well how you feel about his thirst traps. sure, alphatauri milks any chance of plastering yuki across their social media page to fail at distracting fans from the fact that their the slowest car on the grid, and that they can’t build a car that doesn’t fall apart like legos. but, yuki, posting practically-naked (he’s only shirtless, so really you’re mildly exaggerating) pictures on his main instagram page?? he’s not george-fucking-russell, so, why the hell would he do that?
there’s only two answers to this question, and they’re both correct. one, pierre gasly—the french bastard. you can’t leave them together unsupervised. and two, to make you mad. 9which you very much are, so, yuki achieved what he wanted. he’s especially thrilled, when you shove him down onto your bed, and straddle his lap, angrily tugging his shirt off. yuki grins up at you, satisfied at where a simple shirtless picture lead him to. he should listen to pierre more often, his ex-teammate might have good ideas, however rare they are. once his shirt is off, you freeze, breathing heavily as you drink in the sight of his torso. you lean forward and start sucking marks into his pecs, biting into the meat of his chest, and tracing the definition of his abs with your tongue. yuki’s moans rumble in his chest, and he lets his eyes flutter shut and basks under the thorough claim you’re leaving on his body. at least you’re kind enough to avoid placing any marks high enough to where they could be seen from the neck of a shirt—alphatauri will just have to post pre-filmed videos they have in the vault while your hickeys fade, they’ll survive.
you erratically jerk away again, and strip your bottoms off, shoving your underwear down and tossing them behind you. you tug your shirt up until it bunches under your armpits, and you drag the cups of your bra underneath your chest, causing them to spill over the top obscenely. roughly grabbing at your boyfriend’s hands, you direct them to grasp at your boobs, and command, “keep your abs flexed.” yuki makes a noise of confusion, but you don’t elaborate any further. you lower yourself to sit on his abdomen, and grind across him slowly, testing the waters. your head falls forward from the zing of pleasure that races up your spine, and you quickly start rabbiting your hips across the dips and ridges of his muscles.
yuki is rendered speechless at your motions. he was expecting you to ride his dick, not his abs. he’s not going to complain about this, though. you’re rubbing yourself off on his torso—your moans are bitten off and rough, and your grinds are deep and forceful to make sure your clit catches on every sharp edge of his abdomen. it’s the dirtiest thing yuki’s ever seen you do, usually he’s the one being unhinged. he squeezes at your chest rhythmically, dropping his hands to your chest eventually to watch how your breasts bounce at every shift you make—he sighs contentedly, this is heaven.
he brings one hand to reach around you and palm himself over his shorts, but is denied the chance to do so. you hiss at him meanly, and pull his hand back to your waist, eyes flashing at him in warning. yuki falters under the commanding glint of your gaze, maybe he pushed you too far this time. he adjusts his grip on your body and takes some of the load off you, and guides your hips against his body for you—he could feel your thighs begin to tremble in exhaustion and based on how deadest you’ve become on getting yourself off on his abs, he doesn’t want to feel any additional wrath when your release slips from your grasp.
a squeal of relief rattles through your chest at how yuki does the hard work for you. he moves your body exactly how you crave, and you find it incredibly difficult to remember why you were mad in the first place. instead of your thighs shaking in tiredness—you’re thankfully not used to being the one putting all the work in, your boyfriend’s stamina is appreciated—they begin to quiver as you get closer to cumming. your own hand comes to tug at your nipples, looking for any last flare of pleasure to push you over the edge. the wetness you’ve spread across his abs has started to lessen the friction you feel against your cunt. yuki sees the frustration furrowing your brow, and shifts his right hand down over your navel so his thumb can rub at your clit. you gasp, throwing your head back at white-hot burst of contentment behind your eyes, and all it takes is a few more furious passes of yuki’s fingers on your cunt, as the coil snaps inside your core, and waves of bliss crash over you.
yuki slips his hand away, and guides you to ride out the aftershocks on his abs. he moans at the sight of pure satisfaction on your face, and how you’ve soaked his torso, reminding him what belongs to you, with no room for vagueness. you eventually slow your roll, and fall to the side off yuki. the two of you pant as you stare at the ceiling, allowing the rapid beats of your hearts to slow.
you tilt your head to face him, and smile dopily at the sight of yuki staring at his navel. you’ve drenched him with your release, and it glistens beautifully on his tanned skin. if you were truly unhinged, you’d take a picture with your hand rubbing your wetness across his skin, and post it for everyone to see. the contrasting shades of your skin under the light of golden hour would look perfect. it would probably cost your boyfriend’s career, so maybe that’s not an equal exchange.
hummingly faintly, you stumble off 9ithe bed, legs still shaking as you walk towards the bathroom. “you can get yourself off. you’re not fucking me for a week—“ yuki makes an alarmed noise, sputtering in disbelief, struggling to find his words, “oh, don’t get mouthy with me. i could make it so you never fuck me again—i just gave you enough material to last you for that long.” you slam the bathroom door shut, and yuki’s mouth hangs open in shock. fuck, pierre. he’s never listening to his suggestions ever again.
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© httpsserene 2023
Good afternoon to Toto’s forearm
Am I sick for this? Yeah, probably. Mind your business.
Keep reading
I bet with seb, baby leclerc wouldn't (or wouldn't be able to) keep him as a secret for so long. The girl is obssesed with him and the man kisses the ground she walks on, they're just so smitten to each other. But I wonder whether in this case, seb has children or not because if he does — like imagine the whole family is obsessed with her too😭🥹 seb children be like “can we have her live with us” and seb was all like “id like that to happen too”
🫣🫣🫣 i mean, their age gap is alr quite significant and if seb already has a baby, the baby would have to be around five to balance out the age gap... but!! dilf seb is very hard to resist so,, maybe 😩😩😩
"i don't wanna go." his daughter stubbornly looks away from him, squirming to get away from his opened arms and deeper into your embrace. she practically looked at him like he was her long time enemy, and she sought refuge into your arms.
"schatz, we had an agreement." sebastian continued to coax his girl, who was undeniably besotted by you— disinterested in leaving your house, and you altogether. "you said you'd be good, and listen to papa. we need to go home now, y/n has things to do." his voice was tinged with helplesness, now very familiar with this dance as they've shared the same stalemate dozens of times until—
his daughter sniffles. your heart practically melted into a puddle, and you couldn't help but hug her tighter to you. as if sharing her same fear that you will be separated.
"chéri," you look up at sebastian, grasping his hand. "i can reschedule. we can stay in, and watch more tangled, and cuddle." you utter softly.
"you keep spoiling her, baby." sebastian has hints of exasperation in his tone, but the smile creeping on his face betrayed him as he leans down to press a long kiss on your lips.
"i barely see her anymore, i should have cleared my schedule as early as yesterday." you murmur, resting your cheek on the top of her head as she giggles in delight, now as familiar with this dance to know she's won the negotiations once more.
sebastian laughs, pressing a kiss to both your head as he stands up to grab the remote and replenish the snacks.
"you should live with us! so we don't have to be apart! we can hang out everydayyyyy!"
you laugh at her enthusiastic prattle, looking up at her smug father who's been tirelessly convincing you of pretty much, the same thing.
"work those eyes shatz, so we'd have her living with us by the end of the month!"
After seeing that video that you qrted of Lewis and Toto in the paddock I realized I can't focus on anything else when his ARMS are just there. so i was thinking if you could write smth where reader works for merc/a job that puts her close to toto everyday and they often have team meetings but reader can't focus on anything else other than his arms. HANDS. and maybe his big ass watch 🤭 thx nat 🥰
the mind is a very strong thing, huh?
Dropping the material on the table, you let out a long sigh. You had already lost count of how many times you had sat in that room in the last two years, especially to talk about problems. And they were not few.
Slowly, the seats around the table were occupied, the sound of metal scraping on the floor of the room along with the mumbled greetings without much enthusiasm. There was no reason to be excited, not when another year had been thrown in the trash. Looking at your phone, you no longer remembered the topic you were talking about with your friend, the message you had started typing completely losing its meaning.
Then, a voice made you look up, a shy smile on your lips.
— Good morning, everyone — your boss said, as he went to the chair he usually occupied, near the flat screen on which the silver star shone. His eyes took in the way he greeted one of the employees with a smile and a hand on the shoulder.
However, as he sat down, a hiss escaped his lips.
— Is there a problem, Mr. Wolff? — you asked, almost without realizing it.
— Oh, no, it's just the knee that's still bothering me a little.
— The surgery didn't work?
— Yes, it worked, you just need to move it a little to strengthen it and it's a little painful, actually — he replied, smiling — But I appreciate your concern, Y/N. It's very kind of you.
You felt your face heat up, as you returned the smile.
The meeting began shortly after that short exchange of words between you, but your mind was still at that moment, on the sweet words, on his smile. That was the power Toto Wolff had over you. And you couldn't help but feel that way, especially when he was around.
He had enchanted you since the first time those brown eyes had met yours. His smile lit up any room, almost like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. His playful, almost boyish personality made something warm inside your chest, making you feel something you hadn't felt in a long time.
It was completely wrong, you knew. But, you couldn't help it.
You desired your boss.
— This is our chance to consolidate Lewis and the team in second place in the constructors — Toto said, gesturing with his hands in order to emphasize his own words — We couldn't do much in Japan, but this is the time to fight.
You weren't absorbing anything from that meeting. With one hand on your chin, you only had eyes for him and the way he moved his hands, as well as his serious tone, which made his skin tingle in a delicious way. You would do anything to be touched by those fingers, to feel them slide across your skin, leaving a trail of flames and desire along the way.
— The circuit was resurfaced, we're still not sure about the wear and tear — someone said next to you, but you didn't make a point of looking in its direction. Not when your mind drew a racy, not to say indecent, image involving the man scribbling something on the notepad in front of him.
It could be anywhere, even there. Toto wouldn't need to say much to have you in his hands, literally. Sitting on the conference table, it wouldn't take long for him to realize what you needed. And he would give it willingly, his breath hot against your ear.
His hand would slide up your black dress until it found the spot between your legs, hot and pulsing for attention, for stimulation, for him. Brushing his fingers lightly against your clit, still covered by your panties, making you moan softly.
— So needy — Toto would murmur, before pulling away the fabric and slowly inserting two fingers into your pussy, moving them slowly, as if he was discovering what you liked.
Just by looking in his eyes, you would make it clear that that rhythm was not enough, nor that the position of the fingers was correct. You needed him to bend them slightly, to brush against the spot you couldn't reach when you were alone, but that you were sure he was capable of.
— Toto — his name would escape your lips like a plea.
— More? — he would ask quietly, with a provocative smile. By nodding positively, the smile would grow — Ask me, schatz. Ask me and I'll give it to you.
— Please — you would murmur — Faster.
— Good girl…
The pace would go from something slow and almost torturous to something relentless, the wet sound that escaped your pussy would fill the room, along with your moans. Using the base of his hand, he would massage your clitoris without much delicacy, trying to take you to the place you wanted so much and had already reached so many times with those brown eyes in mind.
— Fuck, yes, yes, yes, yes — you would whimper, your fingers squeezing his shoulders tightly, as if that were possible to keep you there, savoring that pleasure you had waited so long for.
— Yes, let me feel your pussy squeezing my fingers, schatz — Toto would growl, as his hand continued to move against you, causing your legs to shake and your eyes to roll back.
The explosion was so close, so close. There was little left, just a few seconds.
And then…
— Y/N, how are the updated parts for Austin? — Toto asked.
Blinking, you came back to reality, feeling your skin too hot and your cheeks red. You had definitely gone too far.
— Ah, yes, the parts — you stuttered, looking for that information in your notes, feeling like a complete idiot for having let yourself be carried away by your own imagination — Yeah, so, they were...
— You know what, we'll talk about this after the meeting in my office, okay?
Your heart skipped a beat.
— Perfect.
Max definitely also has a mix of a praise and degrading kink. Like he'll be in the floor in front of you, having to use almost all his fingers to stretch you out and get you ready to take him, all while saying the filthiest but sweetest s hit ever like "what a pretty little slut, letting me stretch you out to take my cock, huh? you just want me inside you already, is that what it is? aw, my little whore lost all her words, do you need me to fuck it back into you? "
Also, imagine him fucking you so good that you either start speaking dutch for him or your first language. like, I grew up speaking Italian and English but when I get really flustered it all comes out in Italia so imagine him saying like "oh my pretty girl can't even speak straight and I haven't even put my dick in you yet "
(I think I have a praise kink 😐)
sadly i can’t speak anything but english sadly, i took three years of spanish but moved a few times and none of my courses lined up so it was a mess. i’m still trying to learn and have made some progress but its so hard tbh so many tenses.
no because praise and degradation are the perfect mix. he’d be staring at you so fondly sometimes, like he’s truly in love with you, while he’s burying his cock in you and calling you a whore and then spitting on you. then smiling and telling you you’re sooo pretty. his pretty slut. you can’t even respond you’re so fucked out.
can imagine max teaching you dutch while fucking you, making you repeat phrases back to him before he lets you cum, teaching you how to say something and asking you to say it to him while you’re all fucked out. “c’mon schatz, be good for me. remember what i taught you? can you say it for me?” and when you say it back to him, he’d praise you so much, “that’s my cockwhore, so good for me. just like that, say it with me, again.” and then you’re moaning it over and over because you suddenly don’t know how to say anything else with the way he’s fucking you.
once you’re done, cuddling in bed and being all lovey, he’d grin like the devil and tell you what it means and it’s absolutely filthy.
hi bestie 🫶🏻 i read that your reqs are open for valentine's day and i'm so sorry that i keep talking about mick but the content is just. giving me life during finals phase i'm sorry🫠
but what do you think about reader preparing a special striptease for him for day that ends up with her riding his thigh? perhaps with prompt 35
sorry if this is too specific or not specific enough, it’s my first time properly requesting 🙈
- 🐣
all good babe! // prompt: “you’re so filthy… all this for me? how cute.”
His first points was a huge accomplishment and you two have yet to properly celebrate his success.
Mick’s mum and sister has joined you two for the race and you didn’t wanna take away from his time with them so you celebrated with them instead of you two alone.
The next day he had a flight so you two didn’t really get time together until now, when you returned home.
You decided you’d finally put that set you bought a while ago to good use; red with all the straps and bow, the full nine yards. Mick had no idea what you were up to, he was busy catching up on this new show his sister had told him about, the tv keeping him busy long enough that you were to get ready and walk down.
Mick’s eyes move from the tv to you the moment he saw you. You walked down, sitting yourself on his lap and straddling him. He’s yet to see what you have on under the button up you pulled on.
There was a bit of red lace peeking out seeing that you didn’t full button up the top but Mick was nothing if not patient. “You look nice,” he tells you, a hand on your waist as he smiles at you.
“Thank you, baby.” You smiled back at him, his eyes fixed on your hands as you slowly unbuttoned the top. The fabric pooled behind you down, draped over his lap.
“All this for me?” He admired the woman on his lap, his hand rubbing up your side. “All for you,” you leaned into him, kissing him as you hand rests on his jaw.
Mick shifts you into his thigh, his hands moving you back and forth slowly. You can feel the panties and the denim on his jeans brush over your clit, your face buried in the crook of his neck. Your boyfriend whispered the filthiest things to you but his voice sweet like honey and you’re putty in his hands.
You wanted nothing more than for Mick to fuck you but he was a bit too preoccupied with how pretty you looked to let you get undressed. He could feel how wet you were on his thigh and a glance down confirmed it.
“You’re so filthy.. all this for me? How cute.” He mumbles, the words bringing a blush to your cheeks.
Fernando fucking you in your childhood bedroom? Fernando wanting you to call him daddy the whole entire time? Fernando whispering in your ear that he wants to breed you? I- besties thoughts have been thunk and literally I cannot think of anything else. Head empty, only daddy fernando wanting to corrupt you. Thank y’all SO MUCH for this🥵
Daddy Fernando wont leave our thoughts either! Hope you enjoy some more thoughtssss:
He would so nice and respectful in front of everyone else, acting like the perfect gentleman to win everyone over, and he would. Your family would absolutely love him.
When no-ones looking, he'd run his hand a little lower down your back, making you look up at him as he stands there with an innocent smile on his face. At dinner, he'd casually put his hand on your thigh, making sure no one could see as he draws it up higher whilst talking with everyone normally. Fully expecting you to keep quiet like a good girl for him as he has his fun.
After you've said goodnight to everyone, he'd take some time to walk around your room, teasing you slightly for the things you have in it as you sit there desperately worked up from earlier. He knows though. He can see how much you want him and he takes his time.
He'd eventually come over to you, pushing you gently down onto the bed and telling you that if you're good and quiet for him he will fuck you properly, just like you need.
He would slip his hand down into your pyjamas, capturing your mouth with his to stifle your moans. He'd tell you how wet you are for him, laughing gently as he kisses you.
"What do you want?" He'd ask. He loves making you ask for it, to beg for him, to say it for him.
"Please, I need you to fuck me, I need you inside me." You breathe out.
"I think you're forgetting something, no?"
You'd realise what he wants straight away and you look up at his cocky little grin.
"Fernando." You'd whine, not quite sure what you're trying to say.
"No. Say it."
"They're right next door." You'd try and protest and he grins down at you.
"Whisper it then baby."
He'd tease you with his fingers, waiting for you to say it before he slips them inside you.
"Daddy please." You'd manage.
"Thats my good girl. Shhh. Be quiet and let daddy take care of you."
He'd take his time with you, doing everything he can to make you cry out for him and getting his kicks in knowing you can’t this time. Knowing you have to be quiet but can’t help the small noises coming out of you.
He'd whisper filth to you constantly, asking you who owns your pussy, who can fuck you like you need, whose cock do you crave. You can do nothing but cling to him and whisper 'You daddy.'
"Yeah, thats right baby. You're daddy's perfect little slut. Taking me so well. Keeping so quiet. Letting me breed your tight little pussy. Keeping all quiet for me so no one hears."
You moan a little too loud at his words as he thrusts deeply into you and he grins. "You're going to have to be quieter than that if you want my come inside you."
God do you want it. So you'd keep quiet, just whispering daddy over and over as he uses you.
After, when he pulls out he'd spread your legs to watch some of his come drip out of you onto your childhood bed, smiling at your cheeks colouring as it does.
He'd run his fingers over you, catching it and fucking it back inside you, pulling up your pyjamas and pressing your back into his chest as he holds you knowing you're dripping with his come inside of you.
~
Also have a little fantasy of Nando fingering you under a blanket whilst your friends are in the room that I'm debating writing up because apparently I would let this insane criminal old man do anything to me ~🐝
I think this might’ve been the perfect Nando ask, but feel free to prove me wrong ~🐻
giving gamer!james head while he is on the headset 🤭🤭
this post is 18+, minors dni.
You can't hear what James's friends are saying over his mic, but you catch staticky murmurs here and there. You think you hear the word 'headshot', which you allow yourself a little chuckle at considering your current situation.
James's cock, stiff and already smeared with a mixture of saliva and precum, is sitting heavy on your tongue, drool pooling by your teeth. You're stretching your jaw to take him in full, nose nestled into the patch of wiry hair at the base. It smells musky, makes you groan, and elicits a hair tug from James.
You're not sure how he's playing the game with only one hand, the other knotted in your hair, but you presume it's poorly. You hear his annoyed groan and then his hand leaves your hair, reluctantly returning to his controller. As consolation, you bob backwards to kitten lick the head of his cock, hoping to make him feel better.
If it doesn't make him feel better, at least it makes him feel good. His dick twitches on your tongue and you reach a red, raw hand up to cup his balls, massaging at them gently. The other hand aches as it holds you up on the hardwood floor, but you don't complain, choosing to give your all into the blowjob in hopes that you don't notice the pain. Instead you notice the deep, musky smell between James's thighs, a glistening mark still present on his skin from where you'd sucked a bruise only moments before. The more you fondle his balls the more worked up he gets, and he conveniently dies the second you trail the tip of your tongue along the underside of his cock, slipping it through his slit and smearing away the bead of precum that had accumulated there.
It does him in. He lets out a gruff, resounding fuck!' into his mic, and he's lucky that his friends all think he's just upset from dying. Cum spurts into your mouth in globs that paint the back of your throat, and you almost choke on it as your cheeks bulge. Some drips down your chin and you catch James's eye when you swallow, tilting your head up to let him wipe away the stain on your face.
"Better luck next time, Potter," Sirius gloats, "Keep practicing, I'm sure you'll get lucky someday."
I got lucky, James thinks, watching as you eagerly lick at the pad of his thumb to rid it of his cum, licking your lips soon after and leaving them shiny, Sirius doesn't know what he's missing.
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