#rip2mycarradio

[rip2mycarradio]

WET DREAMZ

pathetic sammy wet dream boo. surprise! warnings: doggy, praise from sam, size kink, finger stuff, idk fluff at the end. i love him. also tjis is straight up porn. this is a surprise for @sweeterthancandy i love you !!

༺☆༻

after a long day of smoke-thick motels, coffee that tasted like burnt air, and another grave dug somewhere off the highway, sam winchester didn’t know how he found himself here.

“you’re—fuck, being too loud, baby,” he murmured, voice soft against your ear. even with your face muffled in the pillow, the sounds you were making were way too loud for him to brush off as just him taking care of a hangover. if the people outside the motel paid enough attention, they would know exactly what was happening in here. “gotta… gotta keep it down a little.”

“m—m’trying,” you slurred into the pillow again, clamping your teeth into the fabric of the pillow, trying to bite back a soft cry at the sensation of him sitting idle inside you. he was stretching you out, due to his big size of 8 inches, and for a girl who was shorter than 6’4 and wasn’t 200 pounds of pure muscle? that was a lot to take.

sam’s hand came down to gently trace the arch of your back, pushing you further into the mattress for a better angle. “s’gotta be really... really hard for you,” he was blabbering now, still rocking into you. he was trying desperately not to let out any sounds of his own, which was very difficult when you were being so, good for him. “doing so... so good, baby.” he reminded.

slowly, his fingers that were curled around your hips tightened to an almost bruising grip, and he pushed himself—all eight inches inside. the sensation had you seeing stars, a loud gasp leaving your throat, eyes squeezing shut.

one of sam’s big hands quickly came to cover your mouth, desperate to keep you quiet now. his hips leaned back then thrusted forward, burying himself completely inside you as a soft, strained gasp left him. his fingers pressed against your lips, trying to contain the sounds that you tried to let out. “you... you’re gonna wake up the whole—fuck.” sam’s fingers pressed down more firmly, keeping you silent as he continued to move inside your tight heat.

“you gotta be... be so quiet,” he slurred, letting out a low groan at the feeling of you clenching around him. he started to speed up, just barely, still trying to keep you from being completely loud. you gasped as he sped up, biting his finger gently to keep yourself quiet—a sharp whine leaving him at the sensation.

“such a … fuck.. a good girl,” sam whispered, his fingers loosening a bit as your whimpers got higher. his hands moved to grab your ass, holding you to him as he began to thrust harder into you. his voice was becoming more strained. “takin’ it so well, yeah, that’s right, that’s—“

sam woke with a sharp hiss at the sound of your voice, startled out of an uneasy sleep that clung to him like sweat. his eyes fluttered open, unfocused and squinting against the dim motel light, and when he realized where he was—and that you were standing right there—he groaned softly and turned his face away, suddenly very invested in the peeling wallpaper beside the bed.

his fingers moved automatically to his chin, brushing over the tacky warmth that confirmed his embarrassment. a thin trail of drool. perfect.

“ugh, god,” he muttered, swiping it off quickly with the sleeve of his flannel. “i—I wasn’t even that tired.”

you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “you were snoring.”

“was not,” he mumbled, still avoiding your eyes.

“you drooled, sam.”

“yeah, okay, i might’ve drooled,” he admitted, cheeks already starting to turn a light, bashful pink. “don’t act like it’s a crime.”

“it’s not,” you teased, fighting a grin. “it’s just gross. and weirdly… vulnerable of you.”

“glad to know my most humiliating moment brings you joy.”

he finally risked a glance at you, only to find you staring with that irritating mix of amusement and affection that made him want to both roll his eyes and hide under the covers.

“you were mumbling in your sleep, too,” you added. “sounded like a mix between an insane injury and a porno.”

sam groaned again, dragging a hand down his face. “please stop talking.”

“what were you dreaming about?”

“you. shutting up,” he deadpanned.

you’d never know.

[rip2mycarradio]

hi babe make me stiles stilinski headcannons please

stiles stilinski bf headcanons

anything for you!!! this is half fluff, half nsfw! i hope u enjoy honey munchkin.

tw: mention of cannabis, cowgirl, praise, eating pussy,

⋆˚꩜｡

stiles would … be the dorkiest bf ever, insisting on carrying your books even when there are only two of them and you keep telling him they’re not heavy. he’d sling them under one arm like some kind of gentleman from an old movie and walk you to every single class, no matter how far out of the way it was. sometimes he’d spend the entire walk rambling about some ridiculous theory or a conversation he overheard, and other times he’d just stay close enough that your shoulders brushed together every few steps. everyone at school would know exactly where to find him between periods: trailing beside scott, or trailing beside you.

stiles would … get unusually affectionate when he’s high. he’d end up with his head resting in your lap, mumbling half-finished thoughts about things that don’t quite connect anymore, his words fading in and out like static. and when your hand slips into his hair, scratching gently at his scalp, he just melts—quiet little sounds slipping out of him as he presses closer, nuzzling into your touch like he’s been waiting for it all his life... which he has.

stiles would … be a little awkward with physical affection, but he’s a lot awkward with most things, so you really shouldn’t take it personally. it’s never big or obvious with him; it’s the small, accidental-seeming touches. the brief brush of his fingers against your lower back when he’s guiding you through a crowded hallway, trying to act casual but still wants to make sure you’re right there. or when you’re reaching for something just out of your height and he steps in behind you without thinking, one hand steadying your hip as he grabs it for you.

!! nsfw under the cut !!

stiles would … be the biggest munch of all time, and i mean that literally. his touch holds a sacred reverence, bordering on worship. he would always be so gentle, no matter how needy; marking the time with soft, feather-light kisses to your clit, quiet whines that would vibrate through your body. every minute he spent between your thighs became a form of catharsis.

stiles would … be the happiest boy in beacon hills with any action that he got, but his favorite position? that would be cowgirl. he was an insecure boy, but the moment you were on top, whispering gentle reassurances in that soft voice, with the warmth of your pussy surrounding him? all his defenses would dissolve. he would utterly melt into a puddle beneath you, hands desperately kneading at the flesh of your ass, nodding along to every word you said.

speaking of praise, stiles would be the biggest sucker for it. all it took was a few words of encouragement, and he’d be completely at your feet. for instance, just whispering, "you’re doing so good, look at how perfectly you take care of me," would leave him utterly breathless and eager to please.

⋆˚꩜｡

i hope you all enjoy this! dedicated to my babyyy @roxierebellion

[rip2mycarradio]

hi! could you do a dad!calum fic .. i’m so soft for dad!sos 🥹 your dad luke fic was so adorable!

LOVER OF MINE

UGH YES!!! here’s ur super sweet calum dad stuff :) i love him soooooo fucking much!!!!! no warnings,, jusy some kissing at the end but overall just tooth-rotting fluff <3

༺☆༻

you hadn’t been outside all day—too tired, too touched out, too covered in burp cloths and mystery stains to even think about sunlight. but around five p.m., calum had peeked into the room with your baby on his hip and a hopeful smile on his face.

“what if we got ice cream?” he asked. “family outing style. tiny spoons. stroller wheels squeaking. our daughter accidentally throwing a napkin at a stranger.”

you blinked at him from the couch, one sock on, hair half-clipped, and blinked again. “…right now?”

“c’mon,” he beamed. “we’re hot. she’s sticky. the sky’s pink. it’s basically illegal to stay inside.”

and just like that, twenty minutes later, you were pushing the stroller down a golden-hour sidewalk, the breeze warm and soft, calum at your side with a tiny scoop of vanilla already melting in his hand. his hair was pulled back with in a cap, sunglasses tucked into the collar of his shirt, and he was trying very hard not to act like this was his favorite moment of the entire year.

“look at her,” he whispered, crouching beside the stroller to show her the spoon. “c’mon, baby. it’s like a cloud that tastes like cartoons.”

you laughed. “what does that even mean?”

“you’ll see.” he scooped a tiny bit, held it up dramatically, and your daughter blinked, leaned forward, and took it straight off the spoon with her entire face.

“…okay,” calum whispered reverently, holding the spoon to his chest. “she’s a genius.”

“she’s gonna be sticky for the next three hours.”

“worth it.”

after a few more bites (half of which she dropped into the front of her onesie), you all sat on the curb of the sidewalk, watching the traffic and passing around your milkshake while calum tried to teach her to clap.

“no pressure,” he whispered dramatically, “but if you learn to clap before the next show, you can be our official hype girl.”

“babe,” you muttered, “she’s nine months old.”

“and clearly a prodigy.”

you leaned into his shoulder, watching him babble at your daughter, his voice all high-pitched and goofy, his face just so soft. calum had always had a warm heart, but fatherhood made him glow. his hands were steady now, even when she was fussy. his voice never raised. he’d learned to sway even without music—had the instinctive rhythm of a dad who’d rocked her through late nights, diaper blowouts, and all those please don’t cry please don’t cry moments.

you reached over and gently touched his knee. “you’re a good dad, cal.”

he looked up, blinked once, and his whole face shifted. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

he bumped his shoulder into yours. “you’re a good mom. and a hot mom, too. like—so hot it’s unfair to the other moms.”

“careful,” you warned, grinning. “you’re really close to saying something that’ll make you regret feeding her sugar.”

he smirked. “worth it.”

by the time you got home, the baby had already started rubbing her eyes, face flushed from the excitement, the sun, and possibly the new pigeon friend she made at the park bench.

“i got this,” calum said, unbuckling her from the stroller. “you go relax.”

“you say that now,” you snorted. “but she’s going to scream when you put her down.”

“so will i,” he shrugged, already carrying her into the nursery.

you curled up on the couch, half-watching the end of a cooking show, until calum returned twenty minutes later looking slightly flushed and very proud of himself.

“asleep?”

“like a light.”

“did she fight?”

“not even a little.” he flopped down beside you. “i sang her that dumb little song you made up about socks.”

you laughed into your hands. “it slaps, admit it.”

“it weirdly does,” he grinned, then leaned in close, his hand resting on your thigh. “and now that our daughter is clean and cozy and dreaming about pigeons…”

you raised an eyebrow. “oh no.”

“what?”

“no.”

he feigned offense. “you don’t even know what i was gonna say.”

“calum,” you said flatly, “your hand is halfway up my thigh.”

“maybe i just missed you.”

“you had your tongue in a waffle cone thirty minutes ago.”

“exactly,” he said, dragging his fingers gently over your knee. “got me in the mood for dessert.”

“gross.”

he laughed, fully laughing now, teeth and everything, head dropping onto your shoulder like he couldn’t believe how hard you were roasting him. you kissed his temple anyway.

“you’re disgusting.”

“i’m trying to seduce you, actually,” he said, looking up with puppy eyes. “you’re just immune now.”

you rolled your eyes and leaned back, letting him curl around you like a sleepy, clingy golden retriever.

“you can seduce me after you do the dishes.”

he groaned dramatically. “this is so unfair. i became a dad and lost all my power.”

“you were never that powerful.”

he opened his mouth to argue—and then shut it, grinning as he pulled you in closer, mumbling into your collarbone, “still think you’ll cave by morning.”

calum continued to pout into your collarbone, long, big arms wrapped tight around your waist like he was trying to be annoying.

“just one kiss,” he mumbled, nosing at your neck. “not even a sexy kiss. like… medium sexy. on a scale of one to tongue.”

you rolled your eyes. “calum.”

“okay fine,” he whispered, lips brushing your jaw, “just… lips. old school. pg-rated.”

you smiled despite yourself, turning your face to his, and finally—finally—you kissed him.

slow at first, your mouth warm against his. he hummed softly, like he’d been waiting all day for that moment. his hand slid up your back, fingers gently curling at the base of your neck, holding you there, letting it linger. you tilted your chin slightly, deepening it just a little, and he melted into it, kissing you like he had nowhere else to be, nothing else in the world but you and this couch and—

waaaAAAAHHHHH.

the sound shattered the silence like a cymbal crash.

you froze mid-kiss, noses touching.

he groaned softly into your mouth. “noooo…”

you pulled away, forehead pressed to his. “she’s awake.”

“she sensed it,” he said, flopping back dramatically. “we got too cocky.”

you laughed, already standing. “your fault.”

“how?!”

“you tempted the universe with tongue.”

he sat up, rubbing his eyes. “i don’t even get tongue, and i still gotta go soothe her.”

“dad life, baby.”

he stood, sighing. “i was gonna carry you to the bedroom and everything. now i gotta carry her.”

you turned back to grin at him. “well, she is cuter.”

calum narrowed his eyes. “debatable.”

but he was already disappearing into the hallway, voice soft and low as he picked her up again. you heard him whisper, “alright, alright, it’s okay, princess… daddy almost got lucky,” followed by a baby hiccup and another dramatic sigh.

you smiled to yourself and sank back onto the couch, heart full, lips still tingling, knowing one thing for sure:

you wouldn’t trade this life for anything.

[rip2mycarradio]

2025 calum smut im genuinely on my hands and knees begging for this i dont know what i wnat but i need him so please

FUCK IT I LOVE YOU .

ohhhh baby yk i was waiting for dis one…..

warnings: fingering, a little desperate, kissing & super fast paced!

༺☆༻

calum had that look again.

the one he got when the room went quiet and you were just there, close enough to touch, close enough to breathe in—eyes soft, lips parted like you already knew what he was thinking.

his fingers curled lightly around your wrist, pulling you in until your knees brushed his. he looked up at you like he wasn’t sure if he was about to kiss you or write a song about it.

“c’mere,” he said, voice low, a little rasped.

you leaned in, heartbeat thudding.

“been thinking about this all day,” he whispered, thumb brushing over the inside of your wrist, gaze flicking from your eyes to your mouth and back again.

you didn’t say anything. you didn’t need to.

because the second your nose bumped his, he was already leaning up to kiss you.

you didn’t know how but you were straddling him now, lazily as the kiss turned from gentle to a little deeper. he let out a low moan in response, his grip on your waist tightening as you rolled your hips against him. one of his hands dropped from your hip to rest on your thigh, spreading your legs further apart in an attempt to get you even closer to him.

his tongue swiped between your parted lips, finding its way into your mouth and exploring every inch of it. he was becoming more and more desperate, and he tried his best to contain it by biting your bottom lip. when you felt his hips shift upward you let out a soft breath against his mouth, and you tried to roll your own hips in time with his, tilting your head to get an even deeper angle on our kiss.

the whine that left you as he bit your lip sent shivers up his spine, his breath hitting your face in a low pant as his hands fell to your ass, squeezing it firmly in his palms. he was still trying to maintain some control, but you were making it difficult.

he tried to keep up with your kisses as best as he could, his hips bucking against yours as the friction between you two became more prominent. he moaned against your mouth, desperately trying to keep yourself as much against him as possible.

“s—sorry..” you breathed through a chuckle, pulling back with a shy smile, licking your kiss-swollen, bruised lips, now all puffed up and slick with his spit.

calum could only stare up at you through half-lidded eyes as you chuckled, breathing heavily with his chest rising and falling quickly. jesus, even your breaths made him dizzy.

“you’re an idiot,” he murmured, bringing a hand up to wipe the saliva off the corner of his mouth, taking in how flustered you looked on top of him. he reached under you, bringing his fingers to the waistband of your sleep shorts, gripping the fabric between his fingers.

he gulped at the pressure of you straddling him, your hand pressed down on his lower abdomen as his head fell back against the pillow behind him with a grunt. his grip on your shorts became even more tight as his breathing picked up, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“you don’t even know what you do to me..” he murmured, his hands nearly shaking as he pulled the waistband of your shorts to the side and felt around for your clit. “you ruin me, baby.”

“c—calum, shit,” your hips jerked as his thumb pressed against the sensitive area, your fingers curling into his shirt, holding on tight. the look of adorable sexual frustration on your face was making him dizzy. he could feel how worked up you were, which only made him feel even more desperate.

his fingers then slid lower, finding your entrance. “you’re soaked,” he murmured, his tone thick with both adoration and lust as he pressed his index finger to your entrance. he groaned. “so wet.. all f’me, princess, yeah?”

“shit,” you breathed at the sensation, body tensing, and calum’s eyes rolled slightly as he felt his finger getting swallowed by your tight walls. as he slipped his finger inside of you, he wasted no time in picking up a slow but deep rhythm. calum was a mix of incredibly desperate and completely focused, trying to keep his balance between getting you going and not losing himself just yet.

as he pressed his finger deeper into you, he let out a shaky breath, struggling to try and find his words. “you’re—shit,” he groaned, feeling you clench around his finger. “you’re so perfect. so unbelievably perfect.” his eyes were still closed, his head still thrown back against the pillow.

“y’think so?” you all but whimpered, rolling your hips on instinct as his finger pressed deeper inside your gummy walls. your fingers finally let go of his shirt, smoothing out the fabric from the wrinkles caused by you. you then caught your bottom lip between your teeth, unable to meet his eyes as he fingered you.

“so perfect,” he moaned once more, finding himself unable to stop repeating himself. his thumb pressed into your clit, adding the slightest bit of pressure while he continued to curl his finger inside of you. his free hand gripped your thigh, practically digging his fingers into your skin.

his chest was heaving as his breath picked up, his eyes still squeezed shut and his head still thrown back. his hand worked faster, faster, his heart speeding up and his brain turning fuzzy.

“you’re fuckin’ perfect,” he repeated again.

“fuck, m’gonna cum,” you hiccuped at the overwhelming sensations, breathing coming in faster, faster, faster. the noises you made and the obscene sounds of your soaked pussy was almost too much for him, his fingers picking up their speed without even realizing.

his head was still thrown back, his cheeks red and his chest rising and falling rapidly. at this point his brain was completely mush. “fuck,” he breathed, his grip on you becoming even tighter. “please . please cum for me, baby.”

“oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cried out, cumming around his fingers with a soft squeak, your hand swatting at his chest as your body shook on top of him. he moaned loudly, feeling you clench around his fingers. you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, absolutely and utterly wrecked on top of him. he could never get enough of this sight. he watched you through half-lidded eyes, his fingers remaining inside you as he waited for you to come down from your high.

his free hand slid up to grab your hand, lacing your fingers together with his and holding your hand firmly. he was still breathing heavily, his heart rate not settling down at all. he let out a small whine as he looked up at you.

“you’re beautiful,”

[rip2mycarradio]

HYPNOTIC

this is straight smut basically no plot lol. warnings: giving cal a blowjob, that’s it :)

༺☆༻

you and calum had been through it all.

since 2014, when everything was a blur of backstage lights and reckless youth, when you first met him with stars in your eyes and his heart still half-guarded. you weren’t just his girlfriend—you were the constant. the calm in the storm of screaming fans, late-night flights, interviews, and the weight of being seen by millions but known by very few.

it wasn’t always easy. loving someone like calum hood meant learning to live in the silences between phone calls, memorizing time zones, and growing used to falling asleep to the sound of his voice through a screen instead of the rise and fall of his chest beside you. it meant brushing off tabloid rumors and trusting him even when the distance ached deep and quiet.

but through it all—every lonely night, every tearful airport goodbye, every missed birthday or tour delay—you both stayed loyal.

because this wasn’t some fragile thing. it was real. it was years of mixtapes and forehead kisses, of falling asleep to half-written songs he’d scribbled just for you. it was getting to know him beyond the boy on stage—the gentle, goofy, complicated man who played with his lip ring when he was nervous, who hummed softly when he thought you were asleep, who wrote your name in every notebook he ever owned like it was a prayer.

he’d never said it out loud in a dramatic speech or some public post. but he didn’t have to.

you saw it in the way he looked at you when you weren’t paying attention. in the way he always saved you the last bite of anything. in the way he’d reach for your hand when the crowd was too loud. in the lyrics he never released, the ones only you ever heard.

you were his home. his beginning and his always.

calum knew it deep in his bones: you were the one for him. the only one.

and you always would be.

and so when you sat in front of him on your knees, staring up at him like he was your entire world? he moaned, and not just because of your fingers curled around his cock, your eyes never leaving his as you stroked him slowly, gently, teasingly. calum ran his hand through your hair, fingers getting caught in the knots. all the while his eyes stayed locked on you, his stomach coiling tighter at the sight in front of him.

he let out a rough half-moan when you pressed his tip to your mouth, teasing him a little, a shiver running through his body.

“jesus, baby—“ his grip grew a little less gentle, but only a little. his other hand went to the back of your neck, guiding you forward. you had to resist the urge to chuckle softly at his desperate attempt to guide you further into his mouth, finding it to be almost funny. though it was unintentional, it was amusing. you’d never been one to tease, too bad anyway, and so you slowly took him just a little further, taking him flawlessly.

calum’s hands clenched in your hair, his head swimming and eyes squeezing shut. even when you slowed to a tease he could feel your hot, wet mouth on him, and he moaned aloud, his jaw slacking and teeth clenching. he let his hands stay put on the back of your head, just enjoying the sensation. “m—fuck, baby…”

and for you to see your boyfriend like this, jaw slack, eyes rolled to the back of his skull was an intense ego boost for you. not only that, you found genuine joy in making him feel as though he were in cloud 9, making him feel as though he’d never find better, because he wouldn’t, and you both knew that. and so that being said you tilted your head back slightly, fingers curling around him yet again before sucking on his tip, stroking him at the same time.

jesus christ.

all the noises that were leaving calum were coming out of him involuntarily, but he didn’t mind. he was far too gone to care about that. his chest was heaving as his hands stayed clenched in your hair, his knees almost shaking as the heat in his gut coiled tighter and tighter.

after a few more seconds he managed to pull your mouth away just slightly, trying to catch your attention.

“wait, wait, stop,” he panted, his brain fuzzy and head spinning. “just—give me a second,” he managed gruffly, his voice rough and deep. he was panting like a dog in the heat above you, every one of your little movements blanking his already empty brain.

after pausing for a second, he inhaled deeply, trying to steady his heart rate even a little bit. “i was gonna… cum,” he croaked, his fingers clenching tighter in your hair. he was getting desperate. “you’ve got me losing my fuckin’ mind, baby.”

“ain’t nothing wrong with cumming,” you muttered, eyes flickering to his dick, all pink and slick with both your saliva and precum, and with a mischievous glint in your eyes you leaned your head forward, tongue brushing his tip, almost like a cat.

he was back to square one; right about to cum.

calum gasped and moaned at the feeling, his head tilting back with a loud slam. he tried in vain to hold himself back, his hands shaking where they were gripped in your hair.

“t-thought we—” his words were coming out in breathy bursts, the feeling of your tongue over him making him see genuine stars. “w-we were gonna, ah, take our… oh, God.” his hips twitched helpless and he moaned again, trying to get a thought together again.

“we have so much time,” you muttered reassuringly against his extremely sensitive flesh, licking at him with a little more purpose, pressing soft little kisses.

“jesus fuck—!” his hips jerked forward involuntarily against his will and he had to clench his jaw shut to hold back another cry. calum could feel himself leaking now, he was so close. “oh, fuck, baby…,” he panted, eyes squeezed shut. “you’re gonna make—”

“gonna make you cum?” your fingers, that were still curled around his cock began to stroke him yet again, while your warm, pink tongue slowly dragged over the length of him.

with a choked off, strangled-sounding moan and a shuddering, rough gasp, calum was done. he came hard and long, almost painfully hard, and his knees buckled beneath him. he moaned your name, loudly, hands clenching in your hair. he had a death grip on you, his thighs shaking slightly as he tried to hold himself up.

as he came down, his legs still unsteady, he felt like his mind had been fried completely from the experience. his whole body felt hot and fuzzy, his brain completely blank but in the best way possible. he was totally, completely spent.

”oh my god." calum managed to say, his thumb caressing the side of your jaw, admiring the sight of you; his girl.

༺☆༻

[rip2mycarradio]

heyyyyy love love love the last oneshot! new request: 2025 harry smut

COLD SUNDAY

hi i’m SO sorry this took so long but it’s finally here!! warnings: fingering, lots of praise from harry. the ending is soooo shit i’m so sorry i never know!!!!

༺☆༻

it was the kind of day you both craved without realizing it. slow, quiet, and just yours.

the morning had started in that sun-drenched haze, all warm sheets and tangled limbs. harry had kissed you awake, slow and sleepy, his curls brushing against your cheek and his voice still heavy with sleep. it hadn’t taken much—just a soft “c’mere, love,” and a lazy graze of his hand beneath the hem of your shirt—to turn the moment into something intimate, something soft and slow and full of whispered i love yous. it wasn’t frantic, not rushed, not even close—it was just that sweet kind of love that feels like waking up in your favorite dream and deciding not to leave it.

now, hours later, the world outside was a blur of grey clouds and the occasional hush of passing cars, but inside harry’s flat, everything was still. quiet. calm. the TV glowed in front of you, playing some random nature documentary neither of you had really picked—you just liked the voiceover, the ocean sounds, the sense that time wasn’t moving.

you were curled in his lap, back leaned against his chest, your bare legs tangled over his. he’d thrown a hoodie over his boxers, arms wrapped lazily around your middle, his fingers gently resting on your stomach like they belonged there. and they did. his chin was propped on your shoulder, his breath steady and warm against your neck as he pressed the softest kiss just beneath your jaw every now and then, like he couldn’t help it.

“that’s a penguin, innit?” he murmured sleepily, pointing at the screen.

you squinted. “pretty sure that’s a puffin.”

“what’s the difference?” he mumbled, nuzzling closer.

“penguins don’t fly, babe,” you smiled. “puffins do.”

harry hummed in pretend shock, his lips brushing your skin. “well, color me educated.”

you giggled, your hand finding his and lacing your fingers together. “you really don’t pay attention to anything we watch, huh?”

“nah,” he said, lips now at your temple. “i’m watching you.”

you rolled your eyes, but your cheeks warmed instantly. “you’re so cheesy.”

“you love it,” he said, squeezing your hand.

you leaned your head back onto his shoulder, settling in deeper into the curve of his body, perfectly molded to yours. “yeah,” you whispered. “i do.”

the puffins continued diving on screen, but harry’s mind was elsewhere, evidently so as his fingers slipped beneath the soft fabric of your hoodie, tracing lazy circles over the bare skin of your waist.

"is that so?" harry whispered, his voice a low, gruff whisper, his fingers moving higher up your ribcage, teasingly grazing the underside of your breast.

“yeah,” you spoke, gasping softly when you finally felt his fingers grazing your soft flesh, the skin around his finger already rising with goosebumps. you peered up at him through thick lashes, looking up at him with a lot more curiosity than before. you let his hands explore, not paying any mind to it. “it is so.”

harry’s touch grew more firm, his fingers tracing a lazy path up to cup your tit, the heat of his palm causing your skin to flush.

"mmm," he hummed, his gaze darkening even further as he observed the way you looked up at him, your eyes wide and filled with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. harry’s grip tightened, his thumb brushing over the sensitive nipple, feeling it harden beneath his touch, enjoying the way you writhed in his lap.

"puffin’s are cute, aren’t they?" he teased, his lips finding the sensitive spot between your shoulder and neck, nipping at it playfully.

“yeah, they are,” you spoke. harry truly loved when you got like this, trying to act casual, but it was hard; your breath coming out in soft, adorable pants, like a puppy, being a dead giveaway to your arousal. heat pooled in your belly as harry’s finger mindlessly played with your nipple, and you squirmed under his touch, your ass pressing against his already hard dick. “today’s been a good today.” you muttered, voice softer, a little more intimate. “i’ve missed your attention,”

harry knew that tone all too well, the tone you used when you were craving closeness, when you needed to be smothered with love and affection.

he smiled as he pulled you against him tighter, his arms encircling your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder. "i can give you that," he murmured into your ear, his breath hot against your cheek.

his fingers traced lazy patterns over your stomach, moving lower and lower with each pass, seeking out the soft flesh of your inner thighs. he whispered the sweetest, dirtiest things in your ear, causing you to giggle and squirm a little more. harry was chuckling softly at the sound of your noises, the sweet, infectious sound of your giggle warming his heart. his fingers continued to trace wicked patterns against your skin, drawing languid circles over the fabric of your panties.

"you like that, baby?" he murmured, his lips finding the spot behind your ear, his teeth grazing the pulse point there.

“mmmhm,” you drawled, spreading your thighs a little further, feeling the excitement rise in your chest. “does this mean i get your full attention?”

"you have my full attention, baby," he murmured, his fingers teasing the edge of your panties, just barely grazing the already damp fabric. “you have no idea how much i’ve missed this," he murmured, his hand slipping beneath the fabric, his touch finding your tender flesh. harry had been busy lately—restless in that way he got sometimes, with a suitcase always half-packed and a spark in his eyes that meant he was itching to go somewhere, anywhere. he’d been traveling to all different kinds of places, not necessarily for work, just to see the world. he’d always been like that; curious, romantic about new cities, the kind of person who’d get excited about the smell of foreign spices in the air or the way the light hit cobblestone streets just right at sunset, and so you guys hadn’t had enough time to just be … alone.

“are you lying?” you wanted to tease, wanted to make a little joke to keep the tone light but you were quickly cut off by a soft whimper as his middle finger dipped barely between your folds, testing the waters and seeing how much you’d let him get away with. harry even chuckled at your question, his gaze fixed on the way you bit your lip, your body arching under his touch.

"you know i never lie to you," he murmured, his tone soft and reassuring as he leaned in to whispers in your ear. "couldn't focus on anything else."

his finger traced a lazy circle over your sensitive clit, the touch light and teasing. "see? i’m very focused on you right now."

you whimpered, hips jerking at the lazy circle, your body unprepared for the slightest tease. “you’re trembling,” harry murmured, his voice tender as he continued to toy with your sensitive flesh. he could feel your body trembling just slightly beneath his touch, the effect he had on you a constant reminder of just how much you needed him.

"y’like that?" he whispered, his finger pressing down on your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure. “use your words, sweetheart.”

“yeah, i like that,” you breathed, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation, lips parting in a gasp that hardly left your lips. harry knew your needs like the back of his hand, and despite his initial teasing, he was always eager to fulfill them.

his lips traced a path down the curve of your neck, peppering your skin with open-mouthed kisses that left a trail of warmth in their wake. his touch was firm now, his fingers circling your clit with growing pressure.

"that’s it, baby," he murmured, his voice rough and low. "let me take care of you."

“o—“ your single word sentence was cut off by a soft hiccup, catching your breath before speaking. “okay.”

harry relished in the sound of your surrender, his touch growing bolder, his fingers slipping lower, tracing over your hole.

"that’s my good girl," he murmured approvingly, his lips finding the sensitive spot behind your ear. "just relax and let me make you feel good."

he knew how to drive you crazy, how to bring you right to the edge and keep you there, suspended in a state of delicious torment. his touch was skilled and sure, each movement a testament to the connection the two of you shared. when you rolled your hips with a soft whine, letting him know that you were over the teasing, he found genuine amusement in it.

"eager, aren't we?" he murmured, his voice rough with desire. his finger teased your entrance for a moment before slowly sliding inside, the sensation drawing a guttural moan from his lips. "god, you're so tight," he whispered, his forehead pressed against your neck. his touch was firm but tender, seeking out those sweet noises from you.

feeling his finger inside you was a such an intense feeling of fulfillment that you couldn’t even begin to explain. your chest felt tight, just silently spreading your thighs just a little further, to allow him further access with a soft moan. the sound of sent a shiver down harry’s spine, the heat of your pussy around his finger enough to drive him wild.

"y’always so sensitive," he murmured, almost in awe, his voice thick with desire. he curled his finger, searching for that sweet spot inside you, his touch growing more insistent.

“always know how to take care of me,” you muttered, your voice stuck in a permanent whine, gasping softly as he curled his digit, the tip of his finger reaching dangerously close to your g-spot. having his finger inside you was making him genuinely dizzy, just feeling how wet you were and how beautifully you fit around your finger, was overwhelming, despite how many times he’d done this with you.

harry’s heart ached with admiration at your words, finding the whine in your voice to make his cock throb with the need for attention. "i know, baby," he murmured, his voice tender as he pressed his lips to the slope of your neck. "m’gonna take care of you."

his finger continued to pump in and out of you, the wet, silken feel of your gummy walls making his eyes threaten to roll. he knew exactly what you needed, and he was going to give it to you. that being said he continued to pump his finger in and out of you, adding a second digit, the sound of your gasps and moans like music to his ears.

you gasped at the sensation, hips jerking slightly, your head falling back against his shoulder, almost a sign of surrender.

"that’s it," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "let me in, baby. let me give you what you need." he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, his movements quickening with the need to make you cum, his touch firm and skilled. he wanted to make you forget everything but him.

“harry—“ you gasped out his name as he curled his fingers, so deep inside you that he found that one spot that sent you into a completely different dimension.

his heart races at the sound of his name leaving your lips, his eyes fixed on your face as your body responds to his touch. “s’that it, baby?" he murmurs, his voice low and rough, his fingers pumping relentlessly. he knew exactly where that spongey little spot was, and he intended to hit it over and over again, until you were a trembling mess of pleasure.

you cried out softly, eyes slowly fluttering shut as your hand gripped his forarm, nails digging into his skin so hard, it was a shock that he didn’t bleed. your chest was tight, your stomach was even tighter—you were right there. he could sense you were on the verge of cumming, teetering on the edge and ready to fall. his touch grew even more insistent, his fingers moving with a deliberate purpose.

"that’s it, baby," he murmured into your ear, his voice rough and breathless. "let yourself go for me. let me… yeah. lemme take care of you.” he continued to target that spongy spot, his touch eager to bring you to the height of pleasure.

you came, hard, with a squeak and a gasp, your body trembling with the effort. his heart raced as he felt you cum all over his fingers, your noises being the most beautiful, and adorable sound he'd ever heard.

he held you close, his arms wrapped around you tightly, his lips pressing kisses to your neck and shoulders. he could feel your body trembling against him, your release leaving you quivering in the aftermath.

"good job, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with affection. "there’s my good girl."

༺☆༻

[rip2mycarradio]

bf!calum hood thoughts p2!!

༺☆༻

calum keeps a polaroid of you tucked inside the velvet lining of his guitar case—nestled right next to his favorite pick. it wasn’t for anyone else to see, not something he showed off or even mentioned out loud. he just liked knowing it was there. it was a candid shot—your head tilted back mid-laugh, sun catching your cheekbones, completely unposed. he said it made him feel a little closer to you on stage, like you were always right there with him, even if you were oceans apart. some nights before a show, he’d open the case, glance at that photo, smile to himself, and then step into the spotlight with your face still in his head.

calum always loved taking you on dates. in the early days, like 2014, when money was tight and everything felt new, it was all greasy burger joints, fries shared in the front seat, and late-night drives with the windows down and your laughter echoing down empty roads. and by 2018, things were way different. he could finally afford the kind of nights he used to dream about; nice restaurants, rooftops with city views, champagne glasses clinking under soft lights. and god, did he love seeing you all dressed up just for him. he’d lean against the doorway watching you finish your lipstick, grinning as he said, “y’gonna knock em dead, baby.”

calum absolutely melts when you fall asleep on him. he’ll be mid-movie, arm draped casually around your shoulders, when he realizes your breathings all slow and your head’s all slumped against his chest. he won’t move— not at all. even if his leg’s going numb or the remote is just out of reach. instead, he rests his cheek on top of your head, thumb brushing lazy circles into your arm. sometimes, he whispers little things into your hair—things like, “you’re so pretty,” or “hope you’re dreamin’ about me.” and when you wake up hours later, dazed and confused, he’ll just smile and go, “you looked too sweet to wake up.”

suggestive content ahead ;)

calum babbles on and on when he fucks, but especially when he cums. when the white heat explodes down his spine—cheeks flushing crimson, all ragged breaths and shuddering limbs.

“y/n—fuckin’—fuck,” his teeth would scrape your shoulder, grip bruising as he rode out the waves, “goddamn pussy—tightest…sweetest…fuckin’—” and each word would dissolve into guttural curses, hips stuttering erratically until finally collapsed against you with a gasp. he’d pant harshly against your neck, “love you, baby, love you s’much.”

calum’s weakness? your thighs. doesn’t matter where you are—laying across the couch, sitting on the counter, stretched out in bed—his hands always find their way there. thumbs tracing slow circles, fingertips grazing higher with every pass. sometimes he just stares, all quiet and focused, like he’s watching his favorite song unfold in real time.

“can i..?” he’ll ask, voice low, lips brushing the inside of your knee. and when you shift under his touch, just the tiniest bit needy, he grins like he’s won something. because he has. he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, just above the hem of your shorts, and murmurs, “stop squirmin, baby. m’gettin there. don’t you worry.”

calum has a thing for making out when it’s already too late. like, you’re both half-undressed from the day, the lights are low, your legs tangled under the covers and instead of falling asleep, he pulls you closer, hand sliding under your shirt, tracing the curve of your underboob. his kisses get heavier, slower, more deliberate—like he’s trying to memorize every inch of your mouth with his. he’s all tongue and teeth and the occasional low groan when you tug his hair or bite his lip just enough.

“missed you,” he’ll mutter against your neck, his breath hot as his fingers dip beneath the waistband of whatever you’re wearing—resting there, teasing. not quite moving, not yet. because again, calum’s patient. he likes to take his time, draw it out, make you fall apart just from the way he touches you.

[rip2mycarradio]

E.T

i love josh dun! so much! and so does @sweeterthancandy this is for my baby! this is like my first josh smut, so pls bare with me. basically, he fucks you backstage with his mask on. it’s pretty fast paced i don’t know how to start or end things…. warnings: kissing, missionary, josh is vv desperate!!! bordering on pathetic!!!!! also risk of getting caught, k bai !!!

༺☆༻

backstage was chaos, as usual.

cords trailed across the floor like veins, amps buzzed with static, crew members shouted in hurried bursts of instructions that josh wasn’t really listening to. he was sitting on a couch in the corner, bouncing one leg, drumsticks in one hand, a half-empty water bottle in the other. he had his show pants on—black, worn in, streaked with hints of paint and dirt from cities past—but his shirt was off, and his hair was a mess from nervous hands running through it every five seconds.

you stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching him silently.

he hadn’t noticed you yet. not with the way he was zoned out, staring at the wall, muttering something under his breath—probably counting out a rhythm. your eyes dropped to the balaclava on the table beside him: bright green, weirdly soft, and shaped like a little alien face. the kind of thing no normal person could pull off.

but josh made it look kind of… hot. stupid. stupid hot.

you walked over, quiet as you could manage, and slipped up behind him. then you draped yourself over his back, your chin pressing against the top of his shoulder.

“you look like you’re about to combust.”

he flinched. “jesus—don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“then don’t leave your stupid alien hat lying around. i got curious.”

he relaxed into your touch immediately, your arms sliding around his waist. his hand came to rest over yours instinctively, fingers drumming an uneven rhythm on your knuckles.

“nervous?” you asked softly, brushing your lips just under his jaw.

“maybe a little.” his voice cracked slightly with honesty. “but, like, the good kind. the kind that makes me feel … alive.”

you smiled and nuzzled your nose against his temple. “you wanna feel more alive?”

“depends,” he smirked, “are you gonna slap me or kiss me?”

you reached over and grabbed the alien balaclava, letting it dangle between two fingers. “i’m gonna help you put this stupid thing on.”

“you think it’s stupid?” he said with mock offense. “this is the heart of the show. i’m the heart of the show.”

you giggled. “you’re the heart of my life, but yeah, you look like a martian every time you wear this.”

“a hot martian?”

“i’m not answering that.”

you stepped in front of him and knelt a little, holding the balaclava open. he leaned down with an exaggerated groan, and you tugged it over his head slowly, gently adjusting it around his ears, smoothing the fabric at the neck.

“how do i look?”

“like someone i’d make out with behind a gas station.”

he laughed, loud and sudden. “what the hell kind of fantasy is that?”

you tapped the middle of his masked forehead. “a weird one. very specific. very green.”

he tilted his head, voice a little muffled now. “so… you would make out with me in this.”

“depends how sweaty you are after the show.”

“you always say that,” he whined, dragging his hands down your sides. “but you still do.”

you rolled your eyes and pulled him toward you by his belt loop, brushing a kiss across the fabric near his mouth. “only because you’re cute.”

he sighed dramatically. “you think i’m cute, and you put my stupid hat on for me. i should marry you or something.”

“no big deal,” you smiled. “can i?” you asked softly, fingertips already curling the hem of it upward.

he didn’t answer—just nodded once, eyes dark and wide, pupils blown in anticipation. you lifted the mask slowly, revealing only the soft curve of his mouth, flushed and waiting.

you leaned in, pressing your lips to his with slow, warm pressure, your nose bumping gently against the fabric. he kissed back instantly, hungry and a little desperate, like this one moment with you might have to last him the entire night.

your hands curled around the sides of his neck, and he let out the softest sound when you tilted your head and deepened it, your mouth coaxing his open, the kiss growing hot and messy in a way that made your stomach flip.

you pulled back just barely, your breath still brushing his lips. “for luck,” you whispered.

he licked his lips, dazed. “gonna need another one.”

you didn’t mean to stay so close for so long.

but he tasted like mint gum and nerves, and when your lips met again—still half-covered by that ridiculous alien mask—it was like neither of you wanted to come up for air. the world outside the green fabric dimmed, the sound of the crowd fading into a soft, distant hum, like the only thing real was this: the way his mouth moved against yours.

his hands found your waist, pulling you in gently, his grip careful but needy. not rushed. not greedy. just close. closer.

you tilted your chin, nudging his nose with yours, deepening the kiss in slow motion. his lips were so soft and warm, and he kissed like he meant it—like this wasn’t just pre-show jitters, but a quiet place to rest his heart for a minute.

“mmm,” he breathed against your mouth, one hand brushing along your lower back. “this mask is stupid.”

you smiled, noses touching. “you look hot in it.”

“i feel like a sweaty jalapeño.”

you laughed, brushing your fingers under the hem of the mask again, just enough to see the curve of his smile. “a hot jalapeño.”

he grinned, kissing you once more—then again, slower. his tongue brushed against your bottom lip, unhurried and soft, and you felt your knees dip slightly, heart thudding.

the moment stretched.

he kissed you again, hands splayed across your back, warm and steady, like he had nowhere to be—like the drums could wait, the crowd could wait, the whole world could wait.

but eventually, he broke the kiss with a quiet sigh, resting his forehead against yours. still masked. still holding you.

“how long do we have?” he asked, voice a little breathless.

you glanced at your phone over his shoulder. “fourteen minutes.”

“hmm.” he dipped his head, kissed your cheek, then your jaw. “plenty of time for, like… four more of those.”

“maybe five,” you whispered, already leaning in again.

and he kissed you like he agreed.

and that’s where you found yourselves here.

josh’s mouth met your neck, hot and insistent as he bit and sucked at your skin. his pants were discarded somewhere, as well as your pants and panties. his hands guided your legs around his waist, his grip holding you still as he lined himself up against your entrance. slowly, unbearably slowly, he pushed inside.

"oh, fuck,” he moaned.

“josh,” you whimpered as he bottomed out, lips parting to get more noises out but nothing would come. there was fire between the two of you, the risk of being caught hung heavy in the air but instead of scaring you—scarily enough, it turned you both on. “baby, fuck..”

"oh, god."

josh’s head fell against your shoulder, his grip on your hips tightening as he tried to compose himself. the way you moaned, the pet name, the way you tightened around him... he had to take a few deep breaths to snap himself out of the haze he was in.

“yeah, feel…. so good,” he murmured, his hips shifting forward on the own accord, driving himself deeper. his grip on your hips shifted, his hands sliding up to your ass to get a better grip as he rolled his hips forward against you. “you’re so t-tight, pretty baby," he moaned, his body shuddering with pleasure.

you whined, at both his words and the sensation of him filling you up. you tried to pull the mask over his head entirely—which was met with him gently taking your wrist in his hand, settling your hand over your own stomach, a clear no on that one.

to add to that, your whining made him giddy. god, it was one of his favourite sounds in the world. he loved getting under your skin. he loved driving you crazy. he loved making you squirm. when you gasped, his hips involuntarily rolled forward, grinding into you. his fingers flexed against your sides, nails digging into your skin. when you whined about needing him “faster,” josh’s smugness was replaced with a guttural groan. his fingers squeezed almost roughly at your sides as he started to pull out, before he slammed back inside.

hard.

"yeah, like that?" he was barely in touch with the words coming out of his mouth, his body moving on autopilot. nothing mattered but the need to make you feel good. josh let out a satisfied moan as he felt the way your body responded to him; legs shaking, your moans becoming more intense, your nails digging into his back. it was all music to his ears, and it only drove him. he wrapped his arms around you, holding you as close as possible while he pumped his hips relentlessly.

"you love it, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "you love it when m’like this, yeah?"

you nodded, too fucked out to even think. his breath caught at the sudden tightening of your pussy around him, moaning loudly, his hips bucking uncontrollably as he buried himself as deep as he could go.

"oh fuck, sweet—heart,” he panted, the roughness of his beard scraping your neck. "you’re so close, god, i van feel it..."

“m’gonna cum, gonna cum,” you repeated over and over again, like a mantra, nails digging so deep into his back that it was a miracle you didn’t draw blood. the moment your words hit his ears, josh’s grip on you tightened even more, his hips slamming into yours with a desperation that bordered on pathetic. he could feel your walls contracting around him, could hear your moans right next to his ear, and it drove him completely wild.

"god, yeah, that's it, just like that—" his own words were interrupted by a guttural moan as his pace started to falter, his own release on the brink. "don’t stop, don't... oh, fuck.."

then with a stifled moan, he buried himself deep inside you one final time, his hips stilling as he came hard, along with you. his hands gripped you tight, his fingers digging into your flesh as he moaned your name over and over again.

after a moment, his grip began to loosen, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. he pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes locked on yours in a daze, underneath the mask.

"you’re... god, you're amazing,” he murmured.