Hi kind soul, thank you for having a look at my work. I mostly write for Carlos, but I'm open to write fics for Lando and Charles as well. Here you can find my work.
warnings: smut (18+), mdni (I am NOT responsible for what you consume on tumblr), unprotected sex, age gap (often), praise kink, size kink, cum play, creampie
cs55
biker!carlos - "Keep them open for me, alright?"
bodyguard!carlos - “Your father will kill me if he finds out I watched his little girl fuck herself”
mafia!carlos x virgin!reader - "And I'm sure you're going to look so pretty cumming on a cock, my cock, for the first time"
carlos x merhi!reader - “You were looking at me with your pretty eyes, begging for a kiss"
carlos x dallas cowboys cheerleader!reader - "Dime, princesa... have you ever been fucked properly?"
carlos x age!gap reader - Singapore Champagne
carlos x ex!reader
milano mornings
toro rosso!carlos x reader - "no kiss, princess?"
enemies to lovers, best man x bridesmaid - "Did I ruin your orgasm, pretty girl?"
winter break specials
"Estoy obsesionado contigo"
"Just sit down on it"
Post abu dhabi test
ln4
444L - "baby... don't get my seat wet"
suit zipped down
lando x friends with benefits!reader
lando x ralph lauren stylist - "been thinking about the sweet sounds you'd make"
smut (18+), mdni, sweet!Harris, best friend!Harris, making out against his Porsche, parents aren't home, he takes proper care of you ifykyk
Books were closed in a rushed way as the last minutes finally ticked by. It was humid and stuffed in the classroom, the teacher had refused to open a window, making you wave a piece of paper in front of your face.
Your hair felt thick in the back of your neck, and you were tempted to move it up, resiting when remembering the way Harris likes to twirl the strands around his fingers. The Harris who wasn't your boyfriend, but just a good friend. The dynamic of the friend group changed after his crash.
Alicia finally gave into her feelings for Zac, with them bonding over trauma after the race. Caitlyn and Curtis were still warry of the Bowers kid, unsure why the two of you were like two peas in a pod.
You were sad for him after his friends, explicitly Noah, left him alone, who misunderstood his need to get back behind a wheel while his ribs were still hurting and his ankle was still in a cast. You stayed with him - mainly to make sure he wouldn't hurt himself again.
What Harris appreciated mostly, was how non-judgemental you were. You walked out of the classroom and got your stuff from your locker, knowing Harris would be waiting for you outside. He leaned back against his baby blue Porsche, arms crossed over each other. His hair fell slightly over his forehead, partly covering the scar that had sliced through his left eyebrow. Sometimes you saw traits of how he was before - when he watched others with a slightly judgemental scowl on his face.
Harris was dressed in a black shirt and some jeans, the material pulling taut across his chest and biceps. His lips curled up when you approached him. "Hey, there you are," he says, pushing himself off the car. "Hungry?" He asks, walking around to open the door.
"You have no idea," you reply, feeling your stomach rumble after you had skipped the lunch in the cafeteria earlier today. You simply lost all your appetite and settled for the granola bar and apple that had gotten lost in your bag.
You got used to the looks of others when Harris opened your side of the car and let you step in. You remembered the first time you joined him, how you fiddled with the three-point harness of the seat, how he had to kneel beside you to help you and how others were looking as if you were stepping in the car of the devil.
"They can't get used to it, can they," Harris mutters, sitting behind the wheel and starting the engine. "We just deliver their favourite show," you shrug, not bottered by it anymore.
The silence that falls between you feels easy, comfortable and you watch the streets blur by as Harris drivers you both to Wade's. A part of you is relieved to see that no one you know is there. You don't mind when others see you with Harris, you just don't want to be stared at when enjoying a burger.
It's just Brooke behind the counter. She returned from New York several months ago, and yes - she still has a thing for Harris. She greets you with a smize when you enter, and you swear her left eye twitches slightly when Harris follows suit, his hand brushing over your lower back as he nods towards a booth on the right side.
You order the usual, including an extra milkshake to go, which you're likely to share in the car on the way back. "How was your day?" Harris asks, leaning back against the leather seat, your eyes falling to his chest, the denim around his thighs - fully aware he's slightly manspreading and you fit perfectly between them under the table as you cross your left leg over your right at the knee.
"It was okay," you reply with a shrug. "My hayfever's been bugging me," you complain. "Booging you mean," he's sharp, making you chuckle. "Among other things, yes," you reach for a tissue meanwhile. "Yours?" you ask. "I'm offended you didn't notice how clean my car is," Harris sighs, leaning his elbows on the table.
"My sincerest apologies," you brush a hand over your heart. "The interior did smell great, but I thought you had a new cologne or something," you add. "You could've given me a compliment on that," he points out. "You get too cocky when I do that," you say, making him laugh - one of your favourite things in the world. Brooke returns to your table with the food, and he thanks her, giving her a wink.
"You know she's not over you, right?" you say, a grin tugging on your mouth.
"I'm well aware," Harris eyes twinkle a little as he picks up a fry. "I just like seeing your reaction when I flirt with others." Your eyebrows almost rise to the ceiling. "I'm not even going to ask," you lift your hands in defeat.
He's a quick eater, while you're a slow eater, but he never complains. He sits back and watches you enjoy your fries and sip your milkshake, leaning over to steal one every now and then. "Do you want to go for a drive before I drop you off?" he humms, playing with the paper straw in his empty glass.
"Sure," you say, shoving your empty plate further towards the end of the table. "My folks are out of town anyway," you continue, making Harris look up at you again. "Alright, let's go," he pulls the keys of the Porsche from his pocket as well as his wallet, walking up to Brooke to pay for the both of you, as he always did.
You could refuse or offer to pay, but he never wanted you to. It made you wonder how good of a boyfriend he'd be. You know he and Alicia had horrible moments last year and he sometimes left her on her own to race, but he changed now.
Like earlier today, Harris opened your side of the car for you and you got in, the second milkshake in your left hand so you could easily hold it up for him to take a sip during the ride.
The quiet of a spring evening was soon disturbed with the purr of the Porsche's engine. He smooth pull of the car and the vibrations of the source of power in the back have grown to comfort you. Harris was relaxed, which instantly made everything more easy.
He seemed to have given grief a place after his mother passed away and he broke up with Alicia almost a year ago. It wasn't easy to be friends with Harris, as he was often stubborn, and sometimes his arrogant character returned, but he was focused on changing - for you, for himself, for the greater good. "What?" Harris asks, catching you looking at him.
"Nothing," you shrug with a smile. "Come on, tell me," he urges, moving the steering wheel from left to right a couple of times, swerving over the empty roads. It never scared you. You trusted him with your life behind the wheel, something that had felt so unfamiliar to him, as he was used to people not wanting to be his passenger and getting critized for racing all the time.
"You're just so... you," you said, still sipping on your milkshake. "I'm so me? A good me?" he humms, leaning his elbow on the door of the car, while the other hand tops the steering wheel.
"Yeah," you reply. "Better than before. You're healing, slowly." Harris briefly looks over at you, the light of the street lanterns flickering over his face. "It's because you've given me time," he replies eventually.
"The others were so pushy. My dad, Alicia, Noah..." Harris says. "Even though you've probably given me a lot of last second chances," he adds. "Too many times," you laugh. A comfortable silence fell between you as he takes a left and is about to reach your neighborhood. "I'm glad you did. I was just a little fucked up," Harris says. "From everything." You nod slowly, not speaking against it.
The brakes squeak softly as he stops in front of you house. "Would you want to get back with her?" you hear yourself asking, the silence suddenly overwhelming now the car isn't moving anymore. Harris looks over again, his eyes finding yours in the dark car. "I think Alicia and I should've broken up long before we actually did," he decides to answer.
He undoes the three point harness belt of the Porsche and gets out of the car, moving over to your side to open the door and help you with it, eventhough you know exactly how it works. The drag of his fingertips over your leg is subtle, but makes you shiver nevertheless. He undoes it, helping you out of the car.
He's close to you, leaning his hand on the roof of the car while you close the door behind you and lean against it. "Right, nobody home," he points out, nodding over to the dark house at the end of the porch. "That's why I could park here," he grins, teeth biting into his lower lip. Harris' eyes catch yours, and you hold them, suppressing the feeling in your lower abdomen.
"It's late," you speak up, although none of you make an attempt to step away. "Yeah, totally," he replies, his other hand finding the roof of the car next to your head. You're caged in, feeling the heat radiate from his body.
Harris' eyes study your face before he leans further down, his hands dropping to your waist. "We should kiss, right?" he mutters, still awaiting your permission. You close the distance between the two of you, your lips colliding in a firm kiss. Your stomach backflips at the same time, heat traveling through your bloodstream.
"Harris..." you mumble against his mouth, finding no opportunity to speak as he kisses you again. Your fingers disappear into his hair. "I don't want this to ruin our friendship," you blurt out as he kisses your cheek, mouth wandering down to your neck.
The frame of the Porsche presses harder into your back as he's impossibly close, headlights of another car turning into your street making him look up and shield you a little more from any curious eyes. "You've never thought about this?" Harris asks.
His fingers trail over the bare piece of skin on your waist, finding the denim of your jeans soon enough, pulling you towards him again, kissing you. "Too many times," you admit. "Me too," he says.
There's so much wanting, needing, craving that it ruins your ability to think properly. He leaves it up to you to make the decision, thumb brushing back and forth over your back, letting you know you were safe with him. You take his hand in yours and he lets you guide him to the front door. It's unlocked in a second, and you shake your jacket off your shoulders, putting it up in the hallway.
He knows the way to your room well enough, making him skip up the stairs with two steps at the same time, trailing into your room. You close the door behind yourself again, wasting no time to have him close again.
Harris' lips feel so good on yours, his body feels hot under your palm as you move your hands to his shoulders, to his neck, down his chest. Large hands find the back of your thighs, hoisting you up against himself. Your back hits your mattress, as he drops you gently, hovering over you. His palm presses into the duvet next to your head, a sigh in relief almost audible when you pull him down again.
Your legs curl around his hips, the clothed friction enough to make you gasp softly, reaching for the hem of his shirt. He drags it over his head, hair poofing slightly. You'd seen Harris shirtless countless times before, but in this intimate setting, it suddenly got a different meaning, and every defined piece of skin turned you on.
Clothes were shed quickly, your jeans ending up on the floor next to his, your bra dangled from your hands while his fingertips hooked into your panties. Your heart was palpitating too fast and you almost felt out of breath when you caught Harris' eyes for a second. "Are you okay?" he asked, thumb brushing back and forth on your hip, the pressure of his body atop of yours feeling rather good. "Yeah, you?" you reply, making him nod slowly.
"You're so beautiful," he compliments you, eyes dancing over you. His mouth sloths over yours once more, a moan escaping him when your nails tickle the hair in the nape of his neck.
Harris' hand moves down your body again, palm spreading over your lower abdomen, inching across your pubic bone and slowly reaching the aching spot between your legs. You inhale sharply as his fingertips brush over it before settling for a rhythm with firm, slow circles.
Your eyelids flutter when he kisses your neck, heat rising in your room, the sheets rustling beneath you as your hips meet his touch. The coil in your belly starts to build and you're sure you slowly start loosing your mind when his lips trail down your stomach, teeth nipping playfully at the thin skin over your hipbone before parting your thighs further.
He listens to the sounds you make when his head buries between your legs, sculpted shoulders and arms looking rather delectable from your points of view. The low light on your nightstand casted a golden glow over his tan skin, his hair messy - how it rarely was.
It's hard to stay propped up on your elbows, and you drop back into the pillows as pleasure swirls up your spine. Harris groans at your taste, your whimpers and soft breaths feeding his ego. One of his hands reach up, sliding over your skin and finding your breast, fingertips rolling over a senstive nipple.
His other hand moves between your legs, two fingers circling and spreading the sticky wetness before pushing in gently. Your eyes roll back, your hand flies to his head, pulling on the roots of his hair. The pressure in your abdomen builds, the stimulation peaking and peaking further till it snaps.
Harris looks rather satisfied with himself that he was able to do that, pride filling his chest that you felt comfortable enough. He rises over you, painfully hard in his Calvin's. He takes your chin in his fingers, kissing you deeply. Your bodies clash again, you're unable to stop rolling your hips towards him, feeling him against your bare body.
"Feeling alright?" Harris asks, almost trembling with desire. "God, yes," you fight the urge to dig your teeth into his bicep. "Do you have a condom?" his eyes are dark, pupils large as he hovers over you. You roll over to reach for the drawer of your nightstand, hoping you did. His lips kiss your exposed neck again, your fingers shakily finding the box in the back of the drawer and reaching for one.
The foil flies through your room as he takes it from you, sitting on his knees between your legs as he shoves his Calvin's down his hipbones. You swallow hard at the sight of the girth, feeling small beneath him when his palm presses into the pillow next to your head. It's tender for a second as he caresses your face while sliding home, his other hand finding your hip and slightly adjusting the angle, your walls stretching around him making you shiver with a gasp.
Harris watches you intently, capturing your mouth in a delicious kiss that has your mind spinning soon after. He starts a torture of slow, deep thrusts that causes your toes to curl. Your nails find his shoulders soon enough, making him grunt against your lips. Your breath becomes erratic once more, overstimulated and desperate. His eyes briefly focus on where he's sliding in and out of you, following the line of your stomach up to your perfect breasts, pink nipples that have his mouth running dry at the sight.
His fingertips find your swollen clit, rubbing firm, slow circles that have the stars sparkling behind your eyelids. Harris watches you crumble beneath him, eyes roaming over the faint mark he sucked under your ear, your neck so elegantly exposed. He couldn't get enough of the small whimpers that fell over your lips, your hands struggling to find support on his shoulders. He loves the way his hand fits around your waist.
Nothing could prepare you for the peak your body reached, muscles freezing for a split second before warmth washed all over you, pleasure dotting your vision further. Harris joined you in the state of bliss, looking down at you with hooded eyes and messed up hair. He's sweet as his thumb strokes your cheek after, not saying anything for a couple of minutes. "Do you need anything?" he speaks up. "Can you stay?" you ask, causing the corners of his mouth to rise instantly. "Yeah, I can stay," he says.
You trail your fingertips over the scar in his eyebrow and the other one on his ribs. "I'm getting some water, okay?" he announces after a couple of minutes, slowly getting up. Harris reaches for his underwear and makes his way out of your room to go to the kitchen. He's not surprised to see you followed him down, turning around to find his shirt covering you up, the hem reaching your thighs. He gets another glass from the cabinet, moving around the kitchen as if he lives here. You slide onto the counter, watching your best friend - who you just slept with - stand in front of the sink.
To your surprise it feels all completely normal. You take a couple of sips before putting the glass next to you, gladly welcoming him between your legs as he steps forward. His hands are warm on your thighs and he finds comfort in your touch too. "We should go to sleep," he humms, letting you wrap yourself around him so he could carry you back to your room, where you crawl under the sheets together. Your back is pressed to his chest as his arms curl around you, making you doze off right away.
Baxter Radic - "Need to know if you want me to touch you like this,"
This man has me in a chokehold i swear to god
Smut (18+ mdni, I'm not responsible for what you consume on tumblr), it's written in the stars that you and Baxter will end up together and it finally, finally happens with sexy, soft, amazing intimate time where he takes real good care of you.
It was a beautiful morning in Shorehaven, with the sun just peaking over the ocean and bathing the sky in its pink and orange pastels. Your alarm rung at five, but you were up before already. A large part of the night had been you staring up at the ceiling, images of Baxter and his pink, messy hair filling your head. Ever since you moved here three months ago, you instantly felt drawn to him. His sister was not your kind of person, but he was the complete opposite. He liked using his charm and looks, tension crackling between the two of you whenever you talked. Bax was easy to talk to, or to sit in silence next to.
His family's story was thugging on your heartstrings in every way possible. The moment where Summer revealed everything that happened, suddenly made you understand a lot of things: why he messed with Summer's fins, why he suddenly left the camp, and why he had moments in which he became so distant. Underneath that mask was an honesty, beautiful man who had been through a lot. There was an unspoken understanding between the two of you, in which he knew you wouldn't judge him for his past, but appreciated him for where he was know. Pulling on him and pushing for the friendship never worked, which is why you were both careful in the approach.
There was no denying that Baxter was on your mind a lot. When the friend group was wary of taking him in again after he left the competition, you grew closer and closer. Your stream of thoughts during your bike ride to the beach was interrupted by your arrival. You carried your board over the sand, shivering as your wetsuit hung around your waist and the cool morning air caused goosebumps to rise upon your limbs. Bax had made the board for you, and seven nights ago, you added the finishing touches together. Painting it, sculpting it and putting it away to dry. Yesterday, he brought it to you, putting it against the wall in your room and letting himself fall on his back on your bed after.
His large body took up all the space, leaving you no choice but to sit on the edge next to him, raised eyebrow that silently questioned him. It had made him laugh, hands locked behind his head, showing off his defined biceps.
"Why'd you make it for me?" you asked softly, and he shrugged in response.
"I think you're nice," Baxter answered, teeth briefly gnawing at his bottom lip before he reached to brush your wavy hair over your shoulder, fingertip tracing down your neck.
"And you're gorgeous. I like impressing gorgeous girls," he added with a grin.
"Who says I'm impressed?" you had replied, arms crossed over your chest. "The way you're looking at me tells me everything I need to know," his grin slowly faded away, bright eyes zoning in on you, but none of you made a move.
You shook it off as you brought yourself back to where you were: at the beach and waiting for the swell to rise further. You waxed your board slowly, humming a song that was stuck in your head for days already. When you were finally ready, you took off, instantly feeling more awake when the cold water splashed into your face and soaked your hair. You paddled further into the ocean, turning off your mind and catching each wave you could. You weren't sure how long you were out, but slowly the morning colours left the sky and your stomach started to growl with appetite. You dragged yourself out of the water, heart pounding a little faster when you recognized the figure who was standing in the sand with a surfing board.
The lazy grin spread on Baxter's lips, eyes squinting slightly against the sun that was shining brighter than a few moments ago. "You were up early," he says as you walk up to him. "You keep track of when I get up?" you reply with a small smile. "If you want me to," Bax chuckles. His wetsuit was folded around his hips. Your eyes briefly darted over his physique, counting his abs to check as if they were still there, before looking into his eyes again. His height would be intimidating if he wasn't a big softie deep down, but he hated it whenever you said that. The thought nearly made you laugh.
"Was I funny?" he asks then, following you when you walk past him.
"You're always funny, Bax," you hum, dropping your board in the sand and reaching for your towel.
"I know," there's the cocky grin again, the one that makes your stomach flip and turn and your skin heat up further. "I came here about an hour ago, but I don't want to continue. Did you have breakfast already?" he asks, looking down at you as you squeeze the water out of your hair. "Not yet. Want to go together?" you reply. "Yeah," he says. "Let's take the van," his head nods towards the parking. "Your bike will fit in the trunk," he adds before you could ask. "You looked good out there with my board," Baxter mentions when you walk up to his sister's van. "It felt good," you say, brushing your fingers over fins before he takes it from you and puts it into the vehicle. He gets out of his wetsuit and doesn't bother to change his swimming trunks, and pulls on a shirt.
"Unzip me?" you hum, moving your hair aside and turning your back to him automatically. Baxter's fingers find the zipper of your wet suit, the brief touch to the back of your neck sending a shock down your spine.
He takes his sweet time rolling it all the way down to your lower back, snapping the tight material playfully against your skin before untying the string of your bikini top.
"You're a jerk," you laugh, giving his chest a push, but he doesn't move at all.
"Your favourite," he muses, handing you a dry towel and then walking around to get into the car while you got changed. "No peaking through the mirror," you say without looking up.
"Damn, princess. I'm no better than a man when I see you change out of your surf gear, you know that," he complains.
You roll your eyes with a laugh as you pull a linnen dress down your body, closing the trunk and making your way around to slide into the passenger seat. Even though the flirting between you was endless, you had kissed only once before, when he just moved here and he and his sisters joined during Summer's party. It was a long time ago, but you hated how you still knew what it felt like. Baxter started the van and hit the road back into town, driving straight to the only spot in a fifty mile radius where they served breakfast, lunch and dinner. It was the reason why it was nearly packed when you arrived, having to settle for a spot at the bar, where two chairs were left.
"The usual?" Baxter asks you, knowing you looked at the menu every time but never chose anything else than the pancakes. "Yes," you replied with a smile, looking at him as he passed it on to the waitress, who served you with coffee and water at the same time.
"Any reason why you were up so early?" he hums, picking up his coffee and turning to face you. The sunlight shining through the windows caused his eyes to light up even more, his pink curls were almost dry already and fell over his forehead.
"Couldn't sleep," you shrugged, watching him play with the rings on his fingers after. "Me neither," he admits. "I'm crashing at Marlon's for now. Poppy was over last night," Baxter explains.
You let out a laugh, no further explanation needed. "I'm helping out her and Summer to get ready for their party. I'm hosting because Summer got banned from having parties at Ari's house since your sister's birthday," you chuckle.
"Are you coming tonight?" you ask. He leans his head on his hand while looking at you. "I'll swing by," he says, a smile slowly spreading on his lips again. The waitress returns with two plates, putting the pancakes in front of you and the eggs in front of Baxter. Your elbows touch when you both pick up cutlery, making you shuffle slightly sideways to give him more space. Baxter notices and looks down at you, reaching for the underside of your chair and shoving you into his side.
Your legs touch and stick together, arms and shoulders against each other. Baxter moves his fork to his other hand, the arm that touches yours moving around the back of your chair, fingers brushing over your back. You don't say anything when you look up at him again, seeing his eyes drop to your lips before he smiles at you. "Feed me pancake?" he asks. "You're ridiculous," you scoff. "Yeah, but you love it," he grins.
Baxter drops you off at home after you leave the restaurant, halting in front of your house to take your bike and surf board out of the van. "Your friends are already waiting for you," he softly says, looking over you to see Summer and Poppy in the garden. His eyebrows are slightly forrowed together, as if he wanted to say something else, but chose to swallow the words instead. You hold the board behind your back, which hid you from their sight. He looks down at you next. He's close, like he's been all morning. "Thanks for this morning, I enjoyed spending time with you," you say. "See you tonight," you smile, taking your stuff and moving away from him.
His hand loosely grabs your arm to pull you back, the other leaning against the vehicle and half above your head. For a minute you swear he's about to lean down, but he just caressess your chin with a boyish smile. "Look forward to it," his right eye drops in a wink before he pulls back from you. You gnaw at your bottom lip before taking your surf board and bike and ride it into the garden, not able to get away from your squealing friends who had secretly and quietly been eyeing everything between you and Baxter. "I just want to say it, I predicted this ages ago," Summer instantly says, taking your board from you to put it away, so you could lock your bike.
"Predicted what?" you play dumb when you look away from her, pretending to mess with the key before standing up straight again. "That you'd end up together. Even though I might give you trouble because he loosened my fins," Summer crosses her arms over her chest with a tight lipped smile at the memory. "Which he apologized for," Poppy reminder her. "He's coming tonight," you inform them. "Perfect," Poppy says. "He blamed you and Marlon for the minimum hours of sleep last night," you subtly add, making Summer's eyes widen. "Poppy!" she shrieks, to which the other girl groans and covers her face with her hands.
You all laugh and head inside, settling at the kitchen island while you get ice and lemonade, pouring three glasses. Your parents were out of town this weekend, so the house was empty aside the three of you. "Do you like him?" Poppy asks, folding her hands together on the table. "I think... he's nice," you decide to say, ignoring the immediate butterflies in your stomach at the thought of him. "You've been dancing around each other for like two summers at least," Poppy adds. "Don't put pressure on her," Summer tsks, "you and Marlon took, like, fifty summers." Poppy rolls her eyes and ignores it. "He just looks at you in a way..."
You sit up a little more straight, "what way?"
"Like you created the universe, hung up the moon and the stars, are the answer to all his prayers," Summer gives you jazz hands in the meantime, and it makes you chuckle.
"Yeah, right," you mumble, knowing deep down that what she says is true, because he gave you that look barely an hour ago.
"Girls, we have work to do," Poppy breaks the conversation and stands up from her chair. "I brought all the decoration I have. I even found some kind of broken discoball in the shed," she says, pulling the large tote bag she brought on the table. "I got some booze," Summer grins, returning to the kitchen with her arms full of liquor. "If anyone throws up in my home, you're cleaning," you warn her with a laugh.
The three of you work in tandem to make space in the garden for the party, putting tables and chairs together, cleaning the barbecue and decorating the place. Summer works on the light bulbs that hang on a long string, crossing them through the garden, while you open the garden doors to the covered terrace, putting speakers there for music. At the end of the day, the place looks great and ready for a good party.
You all get ready for the party, listening to music while standing in front of the mirror to put make-up on. You borrowed one of Poppy's white summer dresses that had a subtle, cute cherry print. The end of the dress teased the back of your thighs while the halter neck exposed some of your shoulders and collarbones. You move a brush through your hair and slip into some sandals after, joining Poppy and Summer outside. "If he doesn't make a move on you tonight, I'm going to drown myself during training on Monday," Summer points out, making all of you laugh.
"Whether he does or doesn't, we're going to have a good time," you say, opening the first beer of the night. It doesn't take long before Ari arrives, settling onto the sofa with Summer. Marlin and Bodhi arrive after, and soon the garden is filled with people. You know most of them, but some are friends of Summer you've met maybe once or twice.
The first hour progresses, the music was turned up a little more after sunset, and everyone eases into a tipsy, loose mood, laughter and chit-chat heard everywhere. You quickly walk into the house to grab some more plastic cups, opening the kitchen cabinet and reaching for the stack.
"Need any help with that?"
You turn around at the voice, smiling at Baxter as you lock eyes. "Hey," you say, putting the pile on the counter and closing the cabinet. "Almost wondered if you'd still come," you move closer to him, which makes him put another step forward too, slightly locking you in with one hand on the counter and the other on the kitchen island.
"I'm just fashionably late," Baxter grins, letting his eyes trail you up and down - slowly. "You look breathtaking," he compliments you. "That's sweet of you, Bax," you hum, fuelled by a tiny bit of liquid courage. "You look... like you'd end up in my bed if you keep being cute like that." His eyebrows rise in surprise, but the corners of his mouth move further upwards. You twirl past him to finally put the plastic cups on the table outside.
Baxter briefly looses you in the group of people that are dancing, but he's quick to catch up, not really caring you joined Summer and Poppy again. His hand is warm on your waist as he spins you back to him, close to him, glued to his chest. His button-up is completely undone, hence you're pressed up against his bare skin, feeling his muscled body through your dress.
"You can't just put stuff like that in my head and leave me," Baxter says. "Looks like I did," you shrug with a sparkle in your eyes.
Your arms curl around his neck as you two move to the rhythm of the music. Poppy and Summer are two busy with their boyfriends to pay attention on you, others around you slowly get too drunk to notice. His eyes lost it's brightness, wider pupils zoning in on you, fingers spreading over your hip with ease.
The flirty end of your dress rode slightly up your thighs, teasing and flirting with him while your nails played with the hair in the nape of his neck. Baxter leans down, his lips brushing over your ear. "I'm afraid," he starts, tucking your hair behind your ear, "that I won't be able to resist you any longer." His mouth drops a first, soft kiss to your neck before he looks at you again. "I'm not complaining," you breathe, close enough to feel his hot breath fanning over your face.
He's about to close the distance between the two of you, when someone calls for your name, complaining about a dropped glass. Baxter's jaw clenches as you peel yourself away from him to help before the situation gets any worse. You're quick to help cleaning it up, making sure no glass lays around for anyone on bare feet to step in. You make your way to the sink to wash your hands, gasping when someone shows up behind you. "Don't go outside," Baxter's voice is gravely in your ear. "Please," he adds, locking you in against the counter while you reach for a towel. You manage to turn around, craning your neck to look into his eyes.
His hands find your waist, easily lifting you onto the counter. Your stomach dips in the best way possible when he kisses you, wasting no time. He pulls you to the edge of the counter, stepping between your thighs. The seam of the dress complains when you curl your legs around his hips, drawing him closer. Baxter shivers as your hands glide under the thin material of his shirt, finding his pecs, exploring his shoulders. He deepens the kiss easily, making your limbs feel like jelly. "Is this the moment where we..." he breathes as he briefly parts from you, "where we go to your room?" he gives you a lopsided grin.
Heat creeps up your face, colouring your cheeks slightly. You look over his shoulder to find everyone outside. You hop of the counter, taking his hand in yours and pulling him with you. "I swear I'm not looking up your dress," he says when you climb the stairs in front of him. You stop to look over your shoulder, finding him totally looking up your dress, after which he grins at you. You'd find it cringe if it wasn't him, but Baxter was so unapologetically him, that it only made the pull deeply inside your abdomen worse.
The noise of the party dies down when you made your way to the attic, the whole part of the house that belongs to you. You let him in, locking the door behind you in case any curious person dares to disturb a moment between you again.
"Tell me something," Baxter asks, his arm curls around your waist so effortlessly, dropping you on your bed. The mattress dips under the weight of his knee planted between your legs, his hand gripping the headboard of the bed above your head. "Did you fantasize about this moment?" he hums, kissing you again before you could answer. His other hand finds your left thigh, riding up your dress till his palm meets your hip, finding the soft cotton of your thong.
"Because I did," he whispers in your ear, your eyelids fluttering as his mouth trails down your neck.
"Me too," you admit easily, addicted to the way he looks at you, lips hovering over yours while his fingers tease the waistband of your underwear.
You push his shirt down his shoulders, making him drop it on the floor. You'd seen him half naked many, many times, but the context was different now. Baxter rides your dress up further, slowly dragging it over your stomach and your chest, over your head and off your body completely. "My imaginations were wrong," he purrs, eyes studying you curiously, palm finding your inner thigh and squeezing the flesh.
"You're even more beautiful now," Baxter says. You drag his body between your legs fully, feeling his abs against your stomach, your breasts against his chest. His fingers nestle into your hair as your mouths collide again, his tongue teasing yours while a hand slips between your bodies. "Need to know if you want me to touch you like this," he breathes against your lips.
"God, yes."
You get lost in the kiss and his fingers slipping inside your panties, finding your swollen clit, pulses of pleasure curling up your body. He's overwhelmed with the necessity to worship every inch of your skin. His mouth delves into the slope of your neck, over the swell of your tits. Your back arches into him as his mouth closes around a nipple, his fingers continuing their slow torture between your thighs while he works his way down.
The piercing in his nose, the septum, adds a cooling sensation after each kiss he leaves. Baxter uses it to his advantage as soon as he notices you react to it, looking up at you when the cool ring hits your skin. He swallows hard when he hooks his fingers in your panties to pull them off. The temperature rises in your room as he continues his path of kisses to where you need him.
You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch the man between your legs as he puts his mouth on you, careful, experimental, still curious. His confidence was as addictive as his eyes focussing on you, his tongue on your clit making it hard for you to keep tensing your abs to sit up like this. You drop back into the pillows, your hands finding his pink hair. He listens to the pretty noises you make for him, spreading your thighs wider because he needs more.
The writhing of your hips becomes more desperate when he buries his head deeper between your thighs, one of his hands gliding up your stomach and pushing you down. Baxter lifts his eyes to you again, watching your chest heave up and down. His nose nudging against your nub of nerves is enough to push you over that delicate edge.
You fist the sheets of the bed in your hands, a moan of his name feeding his ego further. "You're so pretty like that," he hums, caressing your face when you find the strength to open your eyes again.
"Have you done this before?" the question makes you blush eventhough it's thoughtful.
"Yes," you reply, "but I'm not very experienced," you add, feeling comfortable under his gaze as he got rid of his shorts and boxers, fingers opening the foil of a condom.
"Nothing to be afraid of," he says, settling between your thighs, making you whimper as the head of his cock nudges against your clit. "Except that you'll never be able to stop thinking of me after this," his teeth playfully scrape over your earlobe while he slides it in, stretching you out and making you feel numb in the best way possible.
He lets you adjust as long as you need before his hips start rolling into yours. The feeling that blossoms in your chest is intense, warm, making you yearn for more. You need to look at him as his hand grabs onto the headboard again, his thrusts becoming more powerful - not harder, but deeper, making you loose all the oxygen in your lungs. Your hands settle on his shoulders, nails biting into his skin, a silent praise for what he makes you feel.
It's an addictive dance between your bodies, his muscles tensing with each move of your hips to meet your thrusts. "Good?" Baxter asks, free hand closing around your waist, yours falling to his bicep. You can only whine and whimper in response, a soft kiss lingering on your lips shushing you slightly.
"I know, baby," he says, the words in combination with the hint of that cocky grin turning your insides to mush.
He loses his composure a little as you start squeezing a little, challenging him. You can't stop admiring the movements of his body, the way his muscles ripple beneath his skin as he shifts slightly, pushing one of your knees further towards your chest to enter you deeper.
Baxter's a little suprised when you open your eyes again to look at him, hooded, yet looking through your lashes. "Bax..." you moan, a shiver running up his spine. "Please," you add, your hand gliding from his chest to the side of his neck. He watches you fall apart beneath him, your head rolling to the side. He follows you into the state of euphoria, shoulders sinking as the tension leaves his body in the best way possible.
His hand caresses your face again, moving through your hair before gliding to your chin. He kisses you sweetly, adding the cherry on top while you come back to planet earth. "How are you feeling?" he asks, studying your face. "Perfect," you reply with a smile.
You sit up as he gets up from his position, throwing the condom into the bin. You're a little wobbly on your legs when you get up, and he's quick to swoop you off your feet and into his arms again. "I want to take a shower," you say. "Join me," you propose, tugging him into the bathroom that's connected to your bedroom.
He ushers you forward and reaches for the knob, turning the water. You gasp as it's cold at first, making him laugh as you slap his chest playfully. Baxter's unable to keep his hands off you, and they soon find your waist again to pull you into him, kissing you deeply. "Please don't tell me you want to go back to the party after this," he mutters against your lips. "Definitely not," you answer, your back hitting the tile wall.
Baxter Radic - "Need to know if you want me to touch you like this,"
This man has me in a chokehold i swear to god
Smut (18+ mdni, I'm not responsible for what you consume on tumblr), it's written in the stars that you and Baxter will end up together and it finally, finally happens with sexy, soft, amazing intimate time where he takes real good care of you.
It was a beautiful morning in Shorehaven, with the sun just peaking over the ocean and bathing the sky in its pink and orange pastels. Your alarm rung at five, but you were up before already. A large part of the night had been you staring up at the ceiling, images of Baxter and his pink, messy hair filling your head. Ever since you moved here three months ago, you instantly felt drawn to him. His sister was not your kind of person, but he was the complete opposite. He liked using his charm and looks, tension crackling between the two of you whenever you talked. Bax was easy to talk to, or to sit in silence next to.
His family's story was thugging on your heartstrings in every way possible. The moment where Summer revealed everything that happened, suddenly made you understand a lot of things: why he messed with Summer's fins, why he suddenly left the camp, and why he had moments in which he became so distant. Underneath that mask was an honesty, beautiful man who had been through a lot. There was an unspoken understanding between the two of you, in which he knew you wouldn't judge him for his past, but appreciated him for where he was know. Pulling on him and pushing for the friendship never worked, which is why you were both careful in the approach.
There was no denying that Baxter was on your mind a lot. When the friend group was wary of taking him in again after he left the competition, you grew closer and closer. Your stream of thoughts during your bike ride to the beach was interrupted by your arrival. You carried your board over the sand, shivering as your wetsuit hung around your waist and the cool morning air caused goosebumps to rise upon your limbs. Bax had made the board for you, and seven nights ago, you added the finishing touches together. Painting it, sculpting it and putting it away to dry. Yesterday, he brought it to you, putting it against the wall in your room and letting himself fall on his back on your bed after.
His large body took up all the space, leaving you no choice but to sit on the edge next to him, raised eyebrow that silently questioned him. It had made him laugh, hands locked behind his head, showing off his defined biceps.
"Why'd you make it for me?" you asked softly, and he shrugged in response.
"I think you're nice," Baxter answered, teeth briefly gnawing at his bottom lip before he reached to brush your wavy hair over your shoulder, fingertip tracing down your neck.
"And you're gorgeous. I like impressing gorgeous girls," he added with a grin.
"Who says I'm impressed?" you had replied, arms crossed over your chest. "The way you're looking at me tells me everything I need to know," his grin slowly faded away, bright eyes zoning in on you, but none of you made a move.
You shook it off as you brought yourself back to where you were: at the beach and waiting for the swell to rise further. You waxed your board slowly, humming a song that was stuck in your head for days already. When you were finally ready, you took off, instantly feeling more awake when the cold water splashed into your face and soaked your hair. You paddled further into the ocean, turning off your mind and catching each wave you could. You weren't sure how long you were out, but slowly the morning colours left the sky and your stomach started to growl with appetite. You dragged yourself out of the water, heart pounding a little faster when you recognized the figure who was standing in the sand with a surfing board.
The lazy grin spread on Baxter's lips, eyes squinting slightly against the sun that was shining brighter than a few moments ago. "You were up early," he says as you walk up to him. "You keep track of when I get up?" you reply with a small smile. "If you want me to," Bax chuckles. His wetsuit was folded around his hips. Your eyes briefly darted over his physique, counting his abs to check as if they were still there, before looking into his eyes again. His height would be intimidating if he wasn't a big softie deep down, but he hated it whenever you said that. The thought nearly made you laugh.
"Was I funny?" he asks then, following you when you walk past him.
"You're always funny, Bax," you hum, dropping your board in the sand and reaching for your towel.
"I know," there's the cocky grin again, the one that makes your stomach flip and turn and your skin heat up further. "I came here about an hour ago, but I don't want to continue. Did you have breakfast already?" he asks, looking down at you as you squeeze the water out of your hair. "Not yet. Want to go together?" you reply. "Yeah," he says. "Let's take the van," his head nods towards the parking. "Your bike will fit in the trunk," he adds before you could ask. "You looked good out there with my board," Baxter mentions when you walk up to his sister's van. "It felt good," you say, brushing your fingers over fins before he takes it from you and puts it into the vehicle. He gets out of his wetsuit and doesn't bother to change his swimming trunks, and pulls on a shirt.
"Unzip me?" you hum, moving your hair aside and turning your back to him automatically. Baxter's fingers find the zipper of your wet suit, the brief touch to the back of your neck sending a shock down your spine.
He takes his sweet time rolling it all the way down to your lower back, snapping the tight material playfully against your skin before untying the string of your bikini top.
"You're a jerk," you laugh, giving his chest a push, but he doesn't move at all.
"Your favourite," he muses, handing you a dry towel and then walking around to get into the car while you got changed. "No peaking through the mirror," you say without looking up.
"Damn, princess. I'm no better than a man when I see you change out of your surf gear, you know that," he complains.
You roll your eyes with a laugh as you pull a linnen dress down your body, closing the trunk and making your way around to slide into the passenger seat. Even though the flirting between you was endless, you had kissed only once before, when he just moved here and he and his sisters joined during Summer's party. It was a long time ago, but you hated how you still knew what it felt like. Baxter started the van and hit the road back into town, driving straight to the only spot in a fifty mile radius where they served breakfast, lunch and dinner. It was the reason why it was nearly packed when you arrived, having to settle for a spot at the bar, where two chairs were left.
"The usual?" Baxter asks you, knowing you looked at the menu every time but never chose anything else than the pancakes. "Yes," you replied with a smile, looking at him as he passed it on to the waitress, who served you with coffee and water at the same time.
"Any reason why you were up so early?" he hums, picking up his coffee and turning to face you. The sunlight shining through the windows caused his eyes to light up even more, his pink curls were almost dry already and fell over his forehead.
"Couldn't sleep," you shrugged, watching him play with the rings on his fingers after. "Me neither," he admits. "I'm crashing at Marlon's for now. Poppy was over last night," Baxter explains.
You let out a laugh, no further explanation needed. "I'm helping out her and Summer to get ready for their party. I'm hosting because Summer got banned from having parties at Ari's house since your sister's birthday," you chuckle.
"Are you coming tonight?" you ask. He leans his head on his hand while looking at you. "I'll swing by," he says, a smile slowly spreading on his lips again. The waitress returns with two plates, putting the pancakes in front of you and the eggs in front of Baxter. Your elbows touch when you both pick up cutlery, making you shuffle slightly sideways to give him more space. Baxter notices and looks down at you, reaching for the underside of your chair and shoving you into his side.
Your legs touch and stick together, arms and shoulders against each other. Baxter moves his fork to his other hand, the arm that touches yours moving around the back of your chair, fingers brushing over your back. You don't say anything when you look up at him again, seeing his eyes drop to your lips before he smiles at you. "Feed me pancake?" he asks. "You're ridiculous," you scoff. "Yeah, but you love it," he grins.
Baxter drops you off at home after you leave the restaurant, halting in front of your house to take your bike and surf board out of the van. "Your friends are already waiting for you," he softly says, looking over you to see Summer and Poppy in the garden. His eyebrows are slightly forrowed together, as if he wanted to say something else, but chose to swallow the words instead. You hold the board behind your back, which hid you from their sight. He looks down at you next. He's close, like he's been all morning. "Thanks for this morning, I enjoyed spending time with you," you say. "See you tonight," you smile, taking your stuff and moving away from him.
His hand loosely grabs your arm to pull you back, the other leaning against the vehicle and half above your head. For a minute you swear he's about to lean down, but he just caressess your chin with a boyish smile. "Look forward to it," his right eye drops in a wink before he pulls back from you. You gnaw at your bottom lip before taking your surf board and bike and ride it into the garden, not able to get away from your squealing friends who had secretly and quietly been eyeing everything between you and Baxter. "I just want to say it, I predicted this ages ago," Summer instantly says, taking your board from you to put it away, so you could lock your bike.
"Predicted what?" you play dumb when you look away from her, pretending to mess with the key before standing up straight again. "That you'd end up together. Even though I might give you trouble because he loosened my fins," Summer crosses her arms over her chest with a tight lipped smile at the memory. "Which he apologized for," Poppy reminder her. "He's coming tonight," you inform them. "Perfect," Poppy says. "He blamed you and Marlon for the minimum hours of sleep last night," you subtly add, making Summer's eyes widen. "Poppy!" she shrieks, to which the other girl groans and covers her face with her hands.
You all laugh and head inside, settling at the kitchen island while you get ice and lemonade, pouring three glasses. Your parents were out of town this weekend, so the house was empty aside the three of you. "Do you like him?" Poppy asks, folding her hands together on the table. "I think... he's nice," you decide to say, ignoring the immediate butterflies in your stomach at the thought of him. "You've been dancing around each other for like two summers at least," Poppy adds. "Don't put pressure on her," Summer tsks, "you and Marlon took, like, fifty summers." Poppy rolls her eyes and ignores it. "He just looks at you in a way..."
You sit up a little more straight, "what way?"
"Like you created the universe, hung up the moon and the stars, are the answer to all his prayers," Summer gives you jazz hands in the meantime, and it makes you chuckle.
"Yeah, right," you mumble, knowing deep down that what she says is true, because he gave you that look barely an hour ago.
"Girls, we have work to do," Poppy breaks the conversation and stands up from her chair. "I brought all the decoration I have. I even found some kind of broken discoball in the shed," she says, pulling the large tote bag she brought on the table. "I got some booze," Summer grins, returning to the kitchen with her arms full of liquor. "If anyone throws up in my home, you're cleaning," you warn her with a laugh.
The three of you work in tandem to make space in the garden for the party, putting tables and chairs together, cleaning the barbecue and decorating the place. Summer works on the light bulbs that hang on a long string, crossing them through the garden, while you open the garden doors to the covered terrace, putting speakers there for music. At the end of the day, the place looks great and ready for a good party.
You all get ready for the party, listening to music while standing in front of the mirror to put make-up on. You borrowed one of Poppy's white summer dresses that had a subtle, cute cherry print. The end of the dress teased the back of your thighs while the halter neck exposed some of your shoulders and collarbones. You move a brush through your hair and slip into some sandals after, joining Poppy and Summer outside. "If he doesn't make a move on you tonight, I'm going to drown myself during training on Monday," Summer points out, making all of you laugh.
"Whether he does or doesn't, we're going to have a good time," you say, opening the first beer of the night. It doesn't take long before Ari arrives, settling onto the sofa with Summer. Marlin and Bodhi arrive after, and soon the garden is filled with people. You know most of them, but some are friends of Summer you've met maybe once or twice.
The first hour progresses, the music was turned up a little more after sunset, and everyone eases into a tipsy, loose mood, laughter and chit-chat heard everywhere. You quickly walk into the house to grab some more plastic cups, opening the kitchen cabinet and reaching for the stack.
"Need any help with that?"
You turn around at the voice, smiling at Baxter as you lock eyes. "Hey," you say, putting the pile on the counter and closing the cabinet. "Almost wondered if you'd still come," you move closer to him, which makes him put another step forward too, slightly locking you in with one hand on the counter and the other on the kitchen island.
"I'm just fashionably late," Baxter grins, letting his eyes trail you up and down - slowly. "You look breathtaking," he compliments you. "That's sweet of you, Bax," you hum, fuelled by a tiny bit of liquid courage. "You look... like you'd end up in my bed if you keep being cute like that." His eyebrows rise in surprise, but the corners of his mouth move further upwards. You twirl past him to finally put the plastic cups on the table outside.
Baxter briefly looses you in the group of people that are dancing, but he's quick to catch up, not really caring you joined Summer and Poppy again. His hand is warm on your waist as he spins you back to him, close to him, glued to his chest. His button-up is completely undone, hence you're pressed up against his bare skin, feeling his muscled body through your dress.
"You can't just put stuff like that in my head and leave me," Baxter says. "Looks like I did," you shrug with a sparkle in your eyes.
Your arms curl around his neck as you two move to the rhythm of the music. Poppy and Summer are two busy with their boyfriends to pay attention on you, others around you slowly get too drunk to notice. His eyes lost it's brightness, wider pupils zoning in on you, fingers spreading over your hip with ease.
The flirty end of your dress rode slightly up your thighs, teasing and flirting with him while your nails played with the hair in the nape of his neck. Baxter leans down, his lips brushing over your ear. "I'm afraid," he starts, tucking your hair behind your ear, "that I won't be able to resist you any longer." His mouth drops a first, soft kiss to your neck before he looks at you again. "I'm not complaining," you breathe, close enough to feel his hot breath fanning over your face.
He's about to close the distance between the two of you, when someone calls for your name, complaining about a dropped glass. Baxter's jaw clenches as you peel yourself away from him to help before the situation gets any worse. You're quick to help cleaning it up, making sure no glass lays around for anyone on bare feet to step in. You make your way to the sink to wash your hands, gasping when someone shows up behind you. "Don't go outside," Baxter's voice is gravely in your ear. "Please," he adds, locking you in against the counter while you reach for a towel. You manage to turn around, craning your neck to look into his eyes.
His hands find your waist, easily lifting you onto the counter. Your stomach dips in the best way possible when he kisses you, wasting no time. He pulls you to the edge of the counter, stepping between your thighs. The seam of the dress complains when you curl your legs around his hips, drawing him closer. Baxter shivers as your hands glide under the thin material of his shirt, finding his pecs, exploring his shoulders. He deepens the kiss easily, making your limbs feel like jelly. "Is this the moment where we..." he breathes as he briefly parts from you, "where we go to your room?" he gives you a lopsided grin.
Heat creeps up your face, colouring your cheeks slightly. You look over his shoulder to find everyone outside. You hop of the counter, taking his hand in yours and pulling him with you. "I swear I'm not looking up your dress," he says when you climb the stairs in front of him. You stop to look over your shoulder, finding him totally looking up your dress, after which he grins at you. You'd find it cringe if it wasn't him, but Baxter was so unapologetically him, that it only made the pull deeply inside your abdomen worse.
The noise of the party dies down when you made your way to the attic, the whole part of the house that belongs to you. You let him in, locking the door behind you in case any curious person dares to disturb a moment between you again.
"Tell me something," Baxter asks, his arm curls around your waist so effortlessly, dropping you on your bed. The mattress dips under the weight of his knee planted between your legs, his hand gripping the headboard of the bed above your head. "Did you fantasize about this moment?" he hums, kissing you again before you could answer. His other hand finds your left thigh, riding up your dress till his palm meets your hip, finding the soft cotton of your thong.
"Because I did," he whispers in your ear, your eyelids fluttering as his mouth trails down your neck.
"Me too," you admit easily, addicted to the way he looks at you, lips hovering over yours while his fingers tease the waistband of your underwear.
You push his shirt down his shoulders, making him drop it on the floor. You'd seen him half naked many, many times, but the context was different now. Baxter rides your dress up further, slowly dragging it over your stomach and your chest, over your head and off your body completely. "My imaginations were wrong," he purrs, eyes studying you curiously, palm finding your inner thigh and squeezing the flesh.
"You're even more beautiful now," Baxter says. You drag his body between your legs fully, feeling his abs against your stomach, your breasts against his chest. His fingers nestle into your hair as your mouths collide again, his tongue teasing yours while a hand slips between your bodies. "Need to know if you want me to touch you like this," he breathes against your lips.
"God, yes."
You get lost in the kiss and his fingers slipping inside your panties, finding your swollen clit, pulses of pleasure curling up your body. He's overwhelmed with the necessity to worship every inch of your skin. His mouth delves into the slope of your neck, over the swell of your tits. Your back arches into him as his mouth closes around a nipple, his fingers continuing their slow torture between your thighs while he works his way down.
The piercing in his nose, the septum, adds a cooling sensation after each kiss he leaves. Baxter uses it to his advantage as soon as he notices you react to it, looking up at you when the cool ring hits your skin. He swallows hard when he hooks his fingers in your panties to pull them off. The temperature rises in your room as he continues his path of kisses to where you need him.
You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch the man between your legs as he puts his mouth on you, careful, experimental, still curious. His confidence was as addictive as his eyes focussing on you, his tongue on your clit making it hard for you to keep tensing your abs to sit up like this. You drop back into the pillows, your hands finding his pink hair. He listens to the pretty noises you make for him, spreading your thighs wider because he needs more.
The writhing of your hips becomes more desperate when he buries his head deeper between your thighs, one of his hands gliding up your stomach and pushing you down. Baxter lifts his eyes to you again, watching your chest heave up and down. His nose nudging against your nub of nerves is enough to push you over that delicate edge.
You fist the sheets of the bed in your hands, a moan of his name feeding his ego further. "You're so pretty like that," he hums, caressing your face when you find the strength to open your eyes again.
"Have you done this before?" the question makes you blush eventhough it's thoughtful.
"Yes," you reply, "but I'm not very experienced," you add, feeling comfortable under his gaze as he got rid of his shorts and boxers, fingers opening the foil of a condom.
"Nothing to be afraid of," he says, settling between your thighs, making you whimper as the head of his cock nudges against your clit. "Except that you'll never be able to stop thinking of me after this," his teeth playfully scrape over your earlobe while he slides it in, stretching you out and making you feel numb in the best way possible.
He lets you adjust as long as you need before his hips start rolling into yours. The feeling that blossoms in your chest is intense, warm, making you yearn for more. You need to look at him as his hand grabs onto the headboard again, his thrusts becoming more powerful - not harder, but deeper, making you loose all the oxygen in your lungs. Your hands settle on his shoulders, nails biting into his skin, a silent praise for what he makes you feel.
It's an addictive dance between your bodies, his muscles tensing with each move of your hips to meet your thrusts. "Good?" Baxter asks, free hand closing around your waist, yours falling to his bicep. You can only whine and whimper in response, a soft kiss lingering on your lips shushing you slightly.
"I know, baby," he says, the words in combination with the hint of that cocky grin turning your insides to mush.
He loses his composure a little as you start squeezing a little, challenging him. You can't stop admiring the movements of his body, the way his muscles ripple beneath his skin as he shifts slightly, pushing one of your knees further towards your chest to enter you deeper.
Baxter's a little suprised when you open your eyes again to look at him, hooded, yet looking through your lashes. "Bax..." you moan, a shiver running up his spine. "Please," you add, your hand gliding from his chest to the side of his neck. He watches you fall apart beneath him, your head rolling to the side. He follows you into the state of euphoria, shoulders sinking as the tension leaves his body in the best way possible.
His hand caresses your face again, moving through your hair before gliding to your chin. He kisses you sweetly, adding the cherry on top while you come back to planet earth. "How are you feeling?" he asks, studying your face. "Perfect," you reply with a smile.
You sit up as he gets up from his position, throwing the condom into the bin. You're a little wobbly on your legs when you get up, and he's quick to swoop you off your feet and into his arms again. "I want to take a shower," you say. "Join me," you propose, tugging him into the bathroom that's connected to your bedroom.
He ushers you forward and reaches for the knob, turning the water. You gasp as it's cold at first, making him laugh as you slap his chest playfully. Baxter's unable to keep his hands off you, and they soon find your waist again to pull you into him, kissing you deeply. "Please don't tell me you want to go back to the party after this," he mutters against your lips. "Definitely not," you answer, your back hitting the tile wall.
Baxter Radic - "Need to know if you want me to touch you like this,"
This man has me in a chokehold i swear to god
Smut (18+ mdni, I'm not responsible for what you consume on tumblr), it's written in the stars that you and Baxter will end up together and it finally, finally happens with sexy, soft, amazing intimate time where he takes real good care of you.
It was a beautiful morning in Shorehaven, with the sun just peaking over the ocean and bathing the sky in its pink and orange pastels. Your alarm rung at five, but you were up before already. A large part of the night had been you staring up at the ceiling, images of Baxter and his pink, messy hair filling your head. Ever since you moved here three months ago, you instantly felt drawn to him. His sister was not your kind of person, but he was the complete opposite. He liked using his charm and looks, tension crackling between the two of you whenever you talked. Bax was easy to talk to, or to sit in silence next to.
His family's story was thugging on your heartstrings in every way possible. The moment where Summer revealed everything that happened, suddenly made you understand a lot of things: why he messed with Summer's fins, why he suddenly left the camp, and why he had moments in which he became so distant. Underneath that mask was an honesty, beautiful man who had been through a lot. There was an unspoken understanding between the two of you, in which he knew you wouldn't judge him for his past, but appreciated him for where he was know. Pulling on him and pushing for the friendship never worked, which is why you were both careful in the approach.
There was no denying that Baxter was on your mind a lot. When the friend group was wary of taking him in again after he left the competition, you grew closer and closer. Your stream of thoughts during your bike ride to the beach was interrupted by your arrival. You carried your board over the sand, shivering as your wetsuit hung around your waist and the cool morning air caused goosebumps to rise upon your limbs. Bax had made the board for you, and seven nights ago, you added the finishing touches together. Painting it, sculpting it and putting it away to dry. Yesterday, he brought it to you, putting it against the wall in your room and letting himself fall on his back on your bed after.
His large body took up all the space, leaving you no choice but to sit on the edge next to him, raised eyebrow that silently questioned him. It had made him laugh, hands locked behind his head, showing off his defined biceps.
"Why'd you make it for me?" you asked softly, and he shrugged in response.
"I think you're nice," Baxter answered, teeth briefly gnawing at his bottom lip before he reached to brush your wavy hair over your shoulder, fingertip tracing down your neck.
"And you're gorgeous. I like impressing gorgeous girls," he added with a grin.
"Who says I'm impressed?" you had replied, arms crossed over your chest. "The way you're looking at me tells me everything I need to know," his grin slowly faded away, bright eyes zoning in on you, but none of you made a move.
You shook it off as you brought yourself back to where you were: at the beach and waiting for the swell to rise further. You waxed your board slowly, humming a song that was stuck in your head for days already. When you were finally ready, you took off, instantly feeling more awake when the cold water splashed into your face and soaked your hair. You paddled further into the ocean, turning off your mind and catching each wave you could. You weren't sure how long you were out, but slowly the morning colours left the sky and your stomach started to growl with appetite. You dragged yourself out of the water, heart pounding a little faster when you recognized the figure who was standing in the sand with a surfing board.
The lazy grin spread on Baxter's lips, eyes squinting slightly against the sun that was shining brighter than a few moments ago. "You were up early," he says as you walk up to him. "You keep track of when I get up?" you reply with a small smile. "If you want me to," Bax chuckles. His wetsuit was folded around his hips. Your eyes briefly darted over his physique, counting his abs to check as if they were still there, before looking into his eyes again. His height would be intimidating if he wasn't a big softie deep down, but he hated it whenever you said that. The thought nearly made you laugh.
"Was I funny?" he asks then, following you when you walk past him.
"You're always funny, Bax," you hum, dropping your board in the sand and reaching for your towel.
"I know," there's the cocky grin again, the one that makes your stomach flip and turn and your skin heat up further. "I came here about an hour ago, but I don't want to continue. Did you have breakfast already?" he asks, looking down at you as you squeeze the water out of your hair. "Not yet. Want to go together?" you reply. "Yeah," he says. "Let's take the van," his head nods towards the parking. "Your bike will fit in the trunk," he adds before you could ask. "You looked good out there with my board," Baxter mentions when you walk up to his sister's van. "It felt good," you say, brushing your fingers over fins before he takes it from you and puts it into the vehicle. He gets out of his wetsuit and doesn't bother to change his swimming trunks, and pulls on a shirt.
"Unzip me?" you hum, moving your hair aside and turning your back to him automatically. Baxter's fingers find the zipper of your wet suit, the brief touch to the back of your neck sending a shock down your spine.
He takes his sweet time rolling it all the way down to your lower back, snapping the tight material playfully against your skin before untying the string of your bikini top.
"You're a jerk," you laugh, giving his chest a push, but he doesn't move at all.
"Your favourite," he muses, handing you a dry towel and then walking around to get into the car while you got changed. "No peaking through the mirror," you say without looking up.
"Damn, princess. I'm no better than a man when I see you change out of your surf gear, you know that," he complains.
You roll your eyes with a laugh as you pull a linnen dress down your body, closing the trunk and making your way around to slide into the passenger seat. Even though the flirting between you was endless, you had kissed only once before, when he just moved here and he and his sisters joined during Summer's party. It was a long time ago, but you hated how you still knew what it felt like. Baxter started the van and hit the road back into town, driving straight to the only spot in a fifty mile radius where they served breakfast, lunch and dinner. It was the reason why it was nearly packed when you arrived, having to settle for a spot at the bar, where two chairs were left.
"The usual?" Baxter asks you, knowing you looked at the menu every time but never chose anything else than the pancakes. "Yes," you replied with a smile, looking at him as he passed it on to the waitress, who served you with coffee and water at the same time.
"Any reason why you were up so early?" he hums, picking up his coffee and turning to face you. The sunlight shining through the windows caused his eyes to light up even more, his pink curls were almost dry already and fell over his forehead.
"Couldn't sleep," you shrugged, watching him play with the rings on his fingers after. "Me neither," he admits. "I'm crashing at Marlon's for now. Poppy was over last night," Baxter explains.
You let out a laugh, no further explanation needed. "I'm helping out her and Summer to get ready for their party. I'm hosting because Summer got banned from having parties at Ari's house since your sister's birthday," you chuckle.
"Are you coming tonight?" you ask. He leans his head on his hand while looking at you. "I'll swing by," he says, a smile slowly spreading on his lips again. The waitress returns with two plates, putting the pancakes in front of you and the eggs in front of Baxter. Your elbows touch when you both pick up cutlery, making you shuffle slightly sideways to give him more space. Baxter notices and looks down at you, reaching for the underside of your chair and shoving you into his side.
Your legs touch and stick together, arms and shoulders against each other. Baxter moves his fork to his other hand, the arm that touches yours moving around the back of your chair, fingers brushing over your back. You don't say anything when you look up at him again, seeing his eyes drop to your lips before he smiles at you. "Feed me pancake?" he asks. "You're ridiculous," you scoff. "Yeah, but you love it," he grins.
Baxter drops you off at home after you leave the restaurant, halting in front of your house to take your bike and surf board out of the van. "Your friends are already waiting for you," he softly says, looking over you to see Summer and Poppy in the garden. His eyebrows are slightly forrowed together, as if he wanted to say something else, but chose to swallow the words instead. You hold the board behind your back, which hid you from their sight. He looks down at you next. He's close, like he's been all morning. "Thanks for this morning, I enjoyed spending time with you," you say. "See you tonight," you smile, taking your stuff and moving away from him.
His hand loosely grabs your arm to pull you back, the other leaning against the vehicle and half above your head. For a minute you swear he's about to lean down, but he just caressess your chin with a boyish smile. "Look forward to it," his right eye drops in a wink before he pulls back from you. You gnaw at your bottom lip before taking your surf board and bike and ride it into the garden, not able to get away from your squealing friends who had secretly and quietly been eyeing everything between you and Baxter. "I just want to say it, I predicted this ages ago," Summer instantly says, taking your board from you to put it away, so you could lock your bike.
"Predicted what?" you play dumb when you look away from her, pretending to mess with the key before standing up straight again. "That you'd end up together. Even though I might give you trouble because he loosened my fins," Summer crosses her arms over her chest with a tight lipped smile at the memory. "Which he apologized for," Poppy reminder her. "He's coming tonight," you inform them. "Perfect," Poppy says. "He blamed you and Marlon for the minimum hours of sleep last night," you subtly add, making Summer's eyes widen. "Poppy!" she shrieks, to which the other girl groans and covers her face with her hands.
You all laugh and head inside, settling at the kitchen island while you get ice and lemonade, pouring three glasses. Your parents were out of town this weekend, so the house was empty aside the three of you. "Do you like him?" Poppy asks, folding her hands together on the table. "I think... he's nice," you decide to say, ignoring the immediate butterflies in your stomach at the thought of him. "You've been dancing around each other for like two summers at least," Poppy adds. "Don't put pressure on her," Summer tsks, "you and Marlon took, like, fifty summers." Poppy rolls her eyes and ignores it. "He just looks at you in a way..."
You sit up a little more straight, "what way?"
"Like you created the universe, hung up the moon and the stars, are the answer to all his prayers," Summer gives you jazz hands in the meantime, and it makes you chuckle.
"Yeah, right," you mumble, knowing deep down that what she says is true, because he gave you that look barely an hour ago.
"Girls, we have work to do," Poppy breaks the conversation and stands up from her chair. "I brought all the decoration I have. I even found some kind of broken discoball in the shed," she says, pulling the large tote bag she brought on the table. "I got some booze," Summer grins, returning to the kitchen with her arms full of liquor. "If anyone throws up in my home, you're cleaning," you warn her with a laugh.
The three of you work in tandem to make space in the garden for the party, putting tables and chairs together, cleaning the barbecue and decorating the place. Summer works on the light bulbs that hang on a long string, crossing them through the garden, while you open the garden doors to the covered terrace, putting speakers there for music. At the end of the day, the place looks great and ready for a good party.
You all get ready for the party, listening to music while standing in front of the mirror to put make-up on. You borrowed one of Poppy's white summer dresses that had a subtle, cute cherry print. The end of the dress teased the back of your thighs while the halter neck exposed some of your shoulders and collarbones. You move a brush through your hair and slip into some sandals after, joining Poppy and Summer outside. "If he doesn't make a move on you tonight, I'm going to drown myself during training on Monday," Summer points out, making all of you laugh.
"Whether he does or doesn't, we're going to have a good time," you say, opening the first beer of the night. It doesn't take long before Ari arrives, settling onto the sofa with Summer. Marlin and Bodhi arrive after, and soon the garden is filled with people. You know most of them, but some are friends of Summer you've met maybe once or twice.
The first hour progresses, the music was turned up a little more after sunset, and everyone eases into a tipsy, loose mood, laughter and chit-chat heard everywhere. You quickly walk into the house to grab some more plastic cups, opening the kitchen cabinet and reaching for the stack.
"Need any help with that?"
You turn around at the voice, smiling at Baxter as you lock eyes. "Hey," you say, putting the pile on the counter and closing the cabinet. "Almost wondered if you'd still come," you move closer to him, which makes him put another step forward too, slightly locking you in with one hand on the counter and the other on the kitchen island.
"I'm just fashionably late," Baxter grins, letting his eyes trail you up and down - slowly. "You look breathtaking," he compliments you. "That's sweet of you, Bax," you hum, fuelled by a tiny bit of liquid courage. "You look... like you'd end up in my bed if you keep being cute like that." His eyebrows rise in surprise, but the corners of his mouth move further upwards. You twirl past him to finally put the plastic cups on the table outside.
Baxter briefly looses you in the group of people that are dancing, but he's quick to catch up, not really caring you joined Summer and Poppy again. His hand is warm on your waist as he spins you back to him, close to him, glued to his chest. His button-up is completely undone, hence you're pressed up against his bare skin, feeling his muscled body through your dress.
"You can't just put stuff like that in my head and leave me," Baxter says. "Looks like I did," you shrug with a sparkle in your eyes.
Your arms curl around his neck as you two move to the rhythm of the music. Poppy and Summer are two busy with their boyfriends to pay attention on you, others around you slowly get too drunk to notice. His eyes lost it's brightness, wider pupils zoning in on you, fingers spreading over your hip with ease.
The flirty end of your dress rode slightly up your thighs, teasing and flirting with him while your nails played with the hair in the nape of his neck. Baxter leans down, his lips brushing over your ear. "I'm afraid," he starts, tucking your hair behind your ear, "that I won't be able to resist you any longer." His mouth drops a first, soft kiss to your neck before he looks at you again. "I'm not complaining," you breathe, close enough to feel his hot breath fanning over your face.
He's about to close the distance between the two of you, when someone calls for your name, complaining about a dropped glass. Baxter's jaw clenches as you peel yourself away from him to help before the situation gets any worse. You're quick to help cleaning it up, making sure no glass lays around for anyone on bare feet to step in. You make your way to the sink to wash your hands, gasping when someone shows up behind you. "Don't go outside," Baxter's voice is gravely in your ear. "Please," he adds, locking you in against the counter while you reach for a towel. You manage to turn around, craning your neck to look into his eyes.
His hands find your waist, easily lifting you onto the counter. Your stomach dips in the best way possible when he kisses you, wasting no time. He pulls you to the edge of the counter, stepping between your thighs. The seam of the dress complains when you curl your legs around his hips, drawing him closer. Baxter shivers as your hands glide under the thin material of his shirt, finding his pecs, exploring his shoulders. He deepens the kiss easily, making your limbs feel like jelly. "Is this the moment where we..." he breathes as he briefly parts from you, "where we go to your room?" he gives you a lopsided grin.
Heat creeps up your face, colouring your cheeks slightly. You look over his shoulder to find everyone outside. You hop of the counter, taking his hand in yours and pulling him with you. "I swear I'm not looking up your dress," he says when you climb the stairs in front of him. You stop to look over your shoulder, finding him totally looking up your dress, after which he grins at you. You'd find it cringe if it wasn't him, but Baxter was so unapologetically him, that it only made the pull deeply inside your abdomen worse.
The noise of the party dies down when you made your way to the attic, the whole part of the house that belongs to you. You let him in, locking the door behind you in case any curious person dares to disturb a moment between you again.
"Tell me something," Baxter asks, his arm curls around your waist so effortlessly, dropping you on your bed. The mattress dips under the weight of his knee planted between your legs, his hand gripping the headboard of the bed above your head. "Did you fantasize about this moment?" he hums, kissing you again before you could answer. His other hand finds your left thigh, riding up your dress till his palm meets your hip, finding the soft cotton of your thong.
"Because I did," he whispers in your ear, your eyelids fluttering as his mouth trails down your neck.
"Me too," you admit easily, addicted to the way he looks at you, lips hovering over yours while his fingers tease the waistband of your underwear.
You push his shirt down his shoulders, making him drop it on the floor. You'd seen him half naked many, many times, but the context was different now. Baxter rides your dress up further, slowly dragging it over your stomach and your chest, over your head and off your body completely. "My imaginations were wrong," he purrs, eyes studying you curiously, palm finding your inner thigh and squeezing the flesh.
"You're even more beautiful now," Baxter says. You drag his body between your legs fully, feeling his abs against your stomach, your breasts against his chest. His fingers nestle into your hair as your mouths collide again, his tongue teasing yours while a hand slips between your bodies. "Need to know if you want me to touch you like this," he breathes against your lips.
"God, yes."
You get lost in the kiss and his fingers slipping inside your panties, finding your swollen clit, pulses of pleasure curling up your body. He's overwhelmed with the necessity to worship every inch of your skin. His mouth delves into the slope of your neck, over the swell of your tits. Your back arches into him as his mouth closes around a nipple, his fingers continuing their slow torture between your thighs while he works his way down.
The piercing in his nose, the septum, adds a cooling sensation after each kiss he leaves. Baxter uses it to his advantage as soon as he notices you react to it, looking up at you when the cool ring hits your skin. He swallows hard when he hooks his fingers in your panties to pull them off. The temperature rises in your room as he continues his path of kisses to where you need him.
You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch the man between your legs as he puts his mouth on you, careful, experimental, still curious. His confidence was as addictive as his eyes focussing on you, his tongue on your clit making it hard for you to keep tensing your abs to sit up like this. You drop back into the pillows, your hands finding his pink hair. He listens to the pretty noises you make for him, spreading your thighs wider because he needs more.
The writhing of your hips becomes more desperate when he buries his head deeper between your thighs, one of his hands gliding up your stomach and pushing you down. Baxter lifts his eyes to you again, watching your chest heave up and down. His nose nudging against your nub of nerves is enough to push you over that delicate edge.
You fist the sheets of the bed in your hands, a moan of his name feeding his ego further. "You're so pretty like that," he hums, caressing your face when you find the strength to open your eyes again.
"Have you done this before?" the question makes you blush eventhough it's thoughtful.
"Yes," you reply, "but I'm not very experienced," you add, feeling comfortable under his gaze as he got rid of his shorts and boxers, fingers opening the foil of a condom.
"Nothing to be afraid of," he says, settling between your thighs, making you whimper as the head of his cock nudges against your clit. "Except that you'll never be able to stop thinking of me after this," his teeth playfully scrape over your earlobe while he slides it in, stretching you out and making you feel numb in the best way possible.
He lets you adjust as long as you need before his hips start rolling into yours. The feeling that blossoms in your chest is intense, warm, making you yearn for more. You need to look at him as his hand grabs onto the headboard again, his thrusts becoming more powerful - not harder, but deeper, making you loose all the oxygen in your lungs. Your hands settle on his shoulders, nails biting into his skin, a silent praise for what he makes you feel.
It's an addictive dance between your bodies, his muscles tensing with each move of your hips to meet your thrusts. "Good?" Baxter asks, free hand closing around your waist, yours falling to his bicep. You can only whine and whimper in response, a soft kiss lingering on your lips shushing you slightly.
"I know, baby," he says, the words in combination with the hint of that cocky grin turning your insides to mush.
He loses his composure a little as you start squeezing a little, challenging him. You can't stop admiring the movements of his body, the way his muscles ripple beneath his skin as he shifts slightly, pushing one of your knees further towards your chest to enter you deeper.
Baxter's a little suprised when you open your eyes again to look at him, hooded, yet looking through your lashes. "Bax..." you moan, a shiver running up his spine. "Please," you add, your hand gliding from his chest to the side of his neck. He watches you fall apart beneath him, your head rolling to the side. He follows you into the state of euphoria, shoulders sinking as the tension leaves his body in the best way possible.
His hand caresses your face again, moving through your hair before gliding to your chin. He kisses you sweetly, adding the cherry on top while you come back to planet earth. "How are you feeling?" he asks, studying your face. "Perfect," you reply with a smile.
You sit up as he gets up from his position, throwing the condom into the bin. You're a little wobbly on your legs when you get up, and he's quick to swoop you off your feet and into his arms again. "I want to take a shower," you say. "Join me," you propose, tugging him into the bathroom that's connected to your bedroom.
He ushers you forward and reaches for the knob, turning the water. You gasp as it's cold at first, making him laugh as you slap his chest playfully. Baxter's unable to keep his hands off you, and they soon find your waist again to pull you into him, kissing you deeply. "Please don't tell me you want to go back to the party after this," he mutters against your lips. "Definitely not," you answer, your back hitting the tile wall.
Omagaaaaaaawd grrrrrr! I love your whole blog! I've found a gold mine, plus you're the only one I see who writes about Brayden and also likes Harris. Can you write something about Baxter, Brayden, or Harris? Anything, even if it's just crumbs 😭🤣.
I’m working on a Baxter fic atm 🥰 feel free to send in more ideas!!!
Tumblr is so sensitive these days that a clip of Carlos putting a suit on immediately gets flagged for “potentially mature content”. Brother it’s just his pecs. You never seen a guy’s pecs before??
