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multimilfs · 2 days ago

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Agnes O'Connor x Fem!Reader: Beginning & End

Summary: Taking a late drive to get your mind off a few things, you get more than you bargained for from a not-so-routine traffic stop.

AO3

A/N: Wasn't sure how to tag this since Agnes is technically an Agatha... variant? persona? Also I didn't tag the Agatha taglist since this isn't technically Agatha? tricky tricky... This is basically just pure smut with a sprinkle of plot.. enjoy xoxo (also let me know if you want more of Agnes?)

Words: 6.2k

Included: Established relationship, Jealousy, Smut; choking, spitting, bdsm, possession, semi-public sex, car sex, fingering, cunnilingus, daddy kink, roleplaying, power dynamics, dom/sub, teasing, begging

Tag List: @escapetodreamworld @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @multifandomfix

You sigh as you lean into the leather seat. The music is loud enough to hurt, but you don’t turn the volume down, glad of the noise even if you don’t feel like singing along. Trees fly by outside the window as you drive.

A sign passes in a flash but you catch the number; 45. Your speedometer reads 55.

Making sure you’re alone on the road, you push it to 57 just for kicks. Even as the dark scenes on either side pass in a blur, the road ahead is clear. The moon hangs low and bright above, reflecting off the filled-in parts of the pavement.

The song changes and you sigh again upon hearing the familiar tune. It only reminds you of your wife; who should be home and in bed with you, but ended up on night-shift instead after hassling a suspect a bit too hard, canceling your planned evening.

Which leads you to driving the backroads between Westview and Eastview, hoping the journey will tire you out enough that you can sleep. Instead it lands you in the position of blowing past a hidden cop.

Just your luck.

You groan as you turn the music down and pull off the road into a flat area of grass. With the lights, you can’t tell if it's a Westview or Eastview officer at first. You have pretty good chances of getting off with a warning if it's one of Agnes’ coworkers.

But it’s not one of the regular officers. It’s the Chief’s car. You hit your head against the steering wheel. He’s been riding Agnes’ ass for months and will likely give you a hefty ticket just to spite her.

While you’re hitting your head against the wheel, there’s a knock on your window. You roll it down without looking, “Look, Chief, I know the deal. You can just write me a ticket and I’ll pay it tomorrow.”

“Oh, will you now?”

You pause.

Looking up in disbelief, “Agnes?”

“That’s Detective O’Connor to you.” Her face doesn’t change from the stern facade, “You were driving pretty recklessly back there. Have you been drinking tonight, ma’am?”

Subtly as you can manage, you check your side mirror to see if anyone else sits in the police cruiser. It wouldn’t be unlike the Chief to put Agnes through some insane test. No shadows lurk in the other car.

You drag your eyes back to Agnes. She’s waiting, still just as stoic, but you see the mischief in her eyes. Well, if she wants to play, why not up the stakes?

Tilting your head and smiling, “Of course not, detective. I’ve been a good girl.”

A split-second pause tells you she wasn’t expecting that. She licks her lips before the act slips back into place. She scoffs.

“That’s what they all say. Wait here.” Her hand pats the open window before she’s heading back toward the cruiser.

You watch her walk away in the side mirror with a grin. Her confident gait stirs something in you, always has.

For a split second you consider throwing the car in drive and peeling out of here. You’re curious to see what Agnes would do. You hope she’d chase you all the way home; that way when you get there you could finally have a taste of what tonight was meant to be.

You want Agnes painfully. Between work deadlines on your end and long hours on hers, you’ve been too tired to do more than cuddle, or some heavy kissing on a better day. You miss the connection that comes from baring yourselves to one another. And the orgasms, too, of course.

Agnes is back at your window, breathalyzer in hand. You make a split second decision.

“Please, detective, I can’t afford another ticket, and my wife will be so mad.” You plead, using that innocent, wide-eyed expression you know turns her on, “Is there anything I can do to… pay it off, per se?”

To her credit, she doesn’t crack this time, “Are you soliciting an officer of the law, ma’am?”

“No, of course not! Unless that’s what you want.”

“Step out of the car.”

The commanding note in her voice goes straight between your thighs. You open the door and step out, watching her brows raise at only the long nightgown you’re wearing. There’s a chill in the air that makes you shiver. Her eyes are drawn to your chest before she shakes away whatever is going through her mind.

While you’re enjoying the game, you do hope she’ll let you get back in the car soon. The cold is unmanageable without more substantial clothing.

Agnes holds up the breathalyzer, “Open your mouth.”

You do so without thinking. A blush races up your face. Agnes can’t help but smirk.

It’s not the breathalyzer that finds itself between your lips, but two fingers that settle on your tongue and press. You jolt at the pressure. Tears come to your eyes as you gag, but the weight of her fingers doesn’t ebb. You fight against your gag reflex to curl your tongue around the digits.

Closing your lips around them, you swirl your tongue like one would around a piece of candy. Even through blurred vision you can see how Agnes’ eyes darken. She leans forward, staring at your lips.

Her fingers move deeper, pressing harder, fucking your throat. You swallow around them.

You find your mouth and throat empty as Agnes pulls out. Her hand grabs your face before you can close your mouth and holds it open, fingers wet against your cheek. She grins meanly.��

“Stick out your tongue.”

The second you do, Agnes spits in your mouth. You whimper. It’s humiliating and you feel yourself clench around nothing. You leave your tongue in the position she demanded, obedient as ever.

Agnes laughs, “Swallow.”

Humiliation, in combination with your startling need for her touch, forces the tears to spill over and down your cheeks. The sight of them seems to please her. She’s always loved seeing you thoroughly debased; loves knowing only she can break you down like this.

Partners in the past did try. Yet they would hesitate, hold back, believing they knew the limits of your desire instead of trusting you. A few would panic when they saw tears in your eyes and pull out of the scene completely. You often found yourself pretending; toning down your desires to ‘acceptable’ levels and leaving yourself unsatisfied to avoid that worried look in your partner’s eyes.

But you’ve never had to pretend with Agnes. From that first time, she went as far as she wanted, knowing that you were an adult capable of safe-wording if it was too much; it wasn’t. You had been dripping and needy the entire time. You had cried while she sat back and watched you polish her boots with your tongue, and had nearly come undone from the act alone. It was everything you craved—Agnes was everything you craved; trusting, dominating, cruel when it suited, and the most loving partner you’ve ever known.

You had vowed then and there that you weren’t letting her get away. And how lucky for you that she put a ring on your finger; the ring that is so much more than a symbol of love; but a brand, too, just as you desire.

“I wonder what your wife would think of you offering yourself up to me,” Agnes muses, “but you’re so eager for it, I can’t help but wonder if she’s not satisfying you properly.”

“Only you can satisfy me, detective.” You flutter your lashes.

That draws a real laugh from her. Something inside you preens. You lean forward into Agnes’ space, angling your head for a kiss, but she pulls back.

“Be that as it may, soliciting an officer is a crime, as is reckless driving.” Her hands reach for her belt, where her handcuffs rest in one of the holsters, “I’m going to have to take you in.”

Though the idea of being cuffed and fucked however she pleases excites you, you’re not entirely pleased with how your original plan was ruined. Agnes knew where the line was during interrogations and she crossed it. Knowingly. It’s safe to say you’re a little pissed she acted out.

A mean-spirited voice in your head considers pushing Agnes away entirely, leaving her wet and turned on for the rest of the night shift while you go home and find solace in your favorite toy. The rational part of you knows that no toy can replace your wife, and it’s her you want. You’re just not going to make it easy for her.

You fall to your knees before she can work the cuffs off her belt. She jolts at the unexpected change. You slam against the ground pretty hard and wince, but don’t dare stop.

Your hands find her belt buckle. Deftly, you start to undo it, “Please, I can make you feel good. I’ll do anything.”

Agnes raises her brows. She doesn’t stop you from undoing her belt or slowly lowering the zipper of her pants. There’s a tenseness in her jaw as she thinks over the request. Intent on sealing the deal, you move your hands from the front of her pants; instead leaning forward to place a kiss where they’d just been.

Looking up through your lashes, you beg, “Please.”

“Well, since you’re so eager for it.”

Ignoring the screaming in your knees, you shoot to your feet, capturing Agnes’ lips in a hard kiss. You attack with lips and teeth and tongue. At the same time, you slip your hand inside her pants and past the waistband of her panties.

She groans against your lips when your fingers play in her wetness. Your fingers ghost over her clit and you grin into the kiss. Two hands settle on your hips and shove, your back hitting the side of your car; it hurts for a moment before you’re once again lost in the feel of your wife, how she’s using her position to grind against your hand, the obscene noises leaving her throat.

Your clit throbs with every roll of her hips. It’s intoxicating that she’s just taking what she wants, using you as a toy to achieve her own pleasure. But the desire between your own legs reminds you of the end goal.

Agnes’ hips pick up speed, her usual low groans evolving into panting, high-pitched whimpers. She’s so close. You consider letting her have what she wants.

Moments before she can fall over the edge you pull your hand from her pants. Hands settling on her chest, you shove her back. She jolts and stumbles. Her fucked-out expression from seconds earlier shifts to confusion, then anger.

“What the fuck?” Agnes snarls.

“You’ve been bad, detective.” Still leaning against the car, you cross your arms over your chest, “Or should I say Daddy.”

Agnes stands straighter. There’s steel in her spine now, jaw taught as darkness comes over her expression. Amusement alights inside your chest.

Her hands begin to unravel the belt from the loops of her pants, “I’m going to paint your backside blue.”

“I don’t think so.” Your voice is hard. “You see, I had a lovely evening planned for us. Dinner, a movie, clean sheets for us to spend all night ruining. And we didn’t get to enjoy any of it because someone couldn’t control her temper. So you, daddy, are going to fuck me until I decide I’m ready to forgive you.”

“It’s cute that you think you’re in control, baby.”

Agnes steps into your space, belt in her hands. You stop her with a hand on her chest before she can get close enough to do anything.

“I am in control.”

“Those with the upper hand don’t usually have to state the fact.”

You tilt your head, “If you don’t give me what I want, you’re not going to touch me for weeks. I’ll fuck myself and all you’ll be able to do is watch. And I’ll stuff all the pairs of panties I ruin into your bag, your pockets… everywhere you go, you’ll be reminded of just what you’re missing.”

The smug expression slowly slips from her face. She tries to push forward again, but you’re unyielding; clenching your fist in the fabric of her shirt until she feels the subtle bite of your nails. There’s fury and a small trace of fear in her eyes.

It’s rare that you have the upper hand. Usually Agnes is twelve steps ahead of everyone—you included. But this time she miscalculated, and she’s going to pay for it.

“Your choice, daddy.”

She scoffs. Shaking her head, a few pieces of her hair free themselves from her low ponytail. They lay in and over her face before she blows them out of the way carelessly. She hasn’t been taking care of it, you can tell; and briefly, you consider if you can get away with commandeering her into taking better care of herself.

You likely shouldn’t push your luck. Agnes is going to punish you enough for this stunt, you’re sure.

The belt is tossed onto the ground a few feet away in a silent show of surrender. Her eyes are dark, churning with a mixture of fury and arousal. A brief moment passes where you wonder if you’re taking this a bit too far, but you shove it down; Agnes is an adult just as you are and will tell you if you cross any hard lines.

“Is the heat on in the cruiser?” You ask.

She pauses, taken-aback, “Yeah, of course.”

“Good. You’re going to fuck me in it later. But first—”

You open the back door of your own car as wide as it can go, just so you can perch on the seat with your feet still outside. With a smile, you open your legs wide. You hadn’t considered this outcome when you left the house for your drive, so your panties are relatively plain, but it doesn’t matter since they’re soaked through.

Agnes takes a step forward and you hold up a finger. She pauses. You point at the ground.

Her face goes red, “Not fucking likely.”

And then she’s on you. She’s holding herself up with one hand on the seat, the other dragging your face to hers. Her body rests perfectly between your legs. With a low moan, you roll your hips against her front.

Her grip on your face is painful. Thank god her nails are clipped short.

Agnes pulls away from your mouth to bite and suck at your throat. You throw your head back, still grinding up against her, moaning with abandon. The friction is nice but it isn’t what you wanted.

“I want you to eat me out.” You force out.

“I don’t care what you want.” Agnes growls.

“Oh? Well, I guess I should be prepared to handle my own orgasms for a while, then.”

As you say that, you stop grinding, and lay fully against the seat, one of your arms snaking its way down your front and between your thighs. You’ve only circled a finger around your clit twice before her hand catches your wrist in a punishing grip.

“Try it and I’ll tie you to the bed everyday when I go to work.”

“I made my terms abundantly clear.”

“You know what you forgot though, brat?” Agnes taunts, lips right next to your ear, “You’re too greedy to settle for your hand or your little toys. It’s only a matter of time before you get bored and come crawling back to me.”

“Maybe I’ll just crawl to someone else. Agent Vidal has been hanging around.”

A hand closes around your throat and you whine. She squeezes, your vision going fuzzy around the edges. You roll your hips.

“I’ll lock you in the house if you even think about it.” Her voice is hard, promising, “You’re mine, baby.”

“Prove it.”

That’s the wrong thing to say.

Agnes pulls back completely. Her hands leave you, the pressure of her body is gone. You look up and she’s standing just far enough away that you can’t touch her. You growl.

The look on her face is one you’ve seen a dozen times; the very same one she wears when you’re about to endure something you don’t like. But you vow not to let her have the upper hand. Not this time. This time, you’re going to make her bend.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” She says.

The words are like a bucket of cold water over your head. You don’t spend long dwelling on the threat, there’s no time.

Agnes is halfway back to the police cruiser when you worm your hand into your panties and bury two fingers inside without preamble. Despite being the source of your own pleasure, you jolt, back bowing off the seat. The moan that leaves your lips is exaggerated; pornographic.

“Oh, yes!”

You hear her footsteps come to a stop. You don’t dare open your eyes, not yet. The pleasure you’re experiencing is real, even if it is half of what it could be with Agnes’ help, but you have to keep up the act—have to make her jealous of your own fingers.

Though she hates to admit it, Agnes is jealous in all aspects of life. There’s a bit of healthy competitiveness worked in there that you can admire. Yet some days… some days she comes home fighting mad, hair a mess and muscles clenched tight as she recounts the events that made her that way. And lately they’ve all had the same person involved—

Agent Rio Vidal.

A loaner agent from the FBI, here to figure out some of the more poignant details of a murder on the Westview-Eastview county line. She’s confident and cutting and painfully attractive. Somehow, she knows how to push every single one of Agnes’ buttons, in work and play.

You’ve only met her twice and each time Agnes was an animal afterward. The appreciative glances and suggestive words made you blush—and though you won’t admit it, turned you on a good bit—while Agnes could barely hold herself back from attacking the woman. So possessive. So jealous.

You can use that.

The door on the other car hasn’t opened and you know she’s watching with rapt attention. You put on a good show, rolling your hips into your one hand while pinching at your chest with the other. You could get off on her watching.

Another exaggerated, high-pitched moan, “Oh, Agent Vidal!”

Though the woman is attractive, you can’t imagine anyone but your wife. Agnes doesn’t need to know that.

Strong hands grab your calves and pull you half-way out of the car. You squeak, eyes snapping open. Agnes looms above you and oh fuck you’re in trouble.

“You little bitch.” She snarls, hand coming to wrap around your throat.

You try to moan but she doesn’t give you that much air. Another deft hand rips your own from your panties, even going so far as to rip the fabric off completely. There’s the ghost of her fingers above your center. You roll your hips.

The sensation of loss and blurry edges is usually a huge turn-on; maybe it’s the intense change from oxygen to no oxygen, but you’re struggling more than normal. You tap her wrist three times.

Agnes pulls away completely. Her hand is off your neck, the other gone from between your thighs. You take in large lungfuls of air and feel your heart-rate slow just a little. A little whine works its way from your throat, though it’s mainly a result of the throbbing between your legs that’s still driving you crazy.

Your wife’s hands hover over you, eyes concerned, “Honey?”

“I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me.” You assure, sitting up and kissing one of her palms, “The quick change just… startled me. I’m okay.”

“Should I… Do you need me to take you home?”

“Oh no, Agnes O’Connor, you’re going to finish what you started.” Spreading your legs offers an obscene picture of just how soaked you are, made even more tantalizing by the ripped panties clinging to your thigh, “Unless you want me to find someone else who can finish the job.”

It’s like flipping a switch.

Overwhelming is a word that could be used to describe Agnes in bed—smothering, even. She has a way of overtaking every single one of your senses at once. Your skin is on fire with her touch, with the faint strands of hair tickling your face. The scent of burnt break-room coffee clings to her jacket. You even taste it when her tongue invades your mouth, moaning obscenely against your lips.

You like being smothered, though. You crave it; aching for anything that will let you turn your mind off and just feel.

Agnes pulls back. Her breath is hot against your lips, “You’re such a brat.”

“Only for you, daddy.” You murmur.

A shudder passes through her at the name. Her grip tightens on you, near bruising. You moan.

“Where do you want me?”

“With your mouth between my legs.”

“Fingers?”

“Yes, please.”

Agnes chuckles, “So you do remember your manners. Interesting.”

You roll your eyes. To your luck, Agnes doesn’t see—if she had, you would have been punished accordingly. Though you realize things are a bit off-balance with your threat hanging in the air; any other time, Agnes would have you bent anyway she pleased, taking all she wanted until you couldn’t handle any more.

Being in control is… odd. Not unwanted, but odd. You have to be more aware of yourself, confident in every command that leaves your lips. You’re glad that this is Agnes’ preferred role even if you’re enjoying the change.

Lips kiss the inside of your thighs and you shudder. When she sinks her teeth in, you squeal, jolting at the change. Your hand falls to the top of her head.

“Not what I meant!”

“Oh, then what did you mean?” She taunts.

“If you don’t make me come right now so help me—”

The heat of her mouth on you is enough to shut you up. Her tongue drags up your slit with agonizing slowness. She teases at your clit for only a moment before repeating the slow drag, making you whine, pressing her head closer.

You feel the rumble of her laughter and god help you the vibrations feel amazing. Yet when you try to move your hips for more, her hands keep them pressed firmly to the leather seat.

Another threat sits on your lips that never comes to pass. With the last slow lick, she fastens her lips around your clit and sucks, hard. It’s painful and wonderful and your back bows off the seat, hands scrambling for anything to clench into. The weeks have been long and you know you’re not going to last.

“I’m going to come.” You force out.

She laughs again. That, in combination with her attention focused solely on your clit, sends you straight over the edge. You feel wild, unhinged as your hips move without any guidance from your mind, chasing the waves of pleasure that make your every muscle go taut.

But when the pleasure subsides, Agnes doesn’t stop. She pushes two fingers inside and curls them in that way you like so much. You clench around them, though you ache, not ready for more so soon.

“I can’t—Please, I can’t.” You beg.

“One more, baby. You can give me that, can’t you?”

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

And you do. Her fingers know every inch of you well, her mind cataloging every spot that makes you whine, every move she performs that sends you over the edge. She calls on that knowledge as the pads of her fingers rub against that spot inside you with abandon until you can’t breathe, shrieking and moaning loud enough that you worry someone will hear you miles away.

The pleasure tenses your body so tight that you worry the muscles will never relax again. It hurts in that delicious way only Agnes can bring out.

When you do relax, she’s licking gently at you, collecting the flavor on her tongue and savoring it like a fine wine. You twitch. The hand you have in her hair pushes as you attempt to slide further onto the seat, away from her mouth.

“No more,” you beg, “please.”

“Am I forgiven?”

You laugh, breathless, “Not quite.”

You tug her up wordlessly until the weight of her is draped over you. It’s nice, comforting to feel her close. Her warmth helps fight against the cold biting at your lower half. Sighing, you bury your face in her neck, your hand coming up to lazily play with her hair.

Agnes accepts the touch. She traces little patterns on your hip over the nightgown, soft and quiet. You can still see the red and blue lights from your hiding place in her neck.

“Why do you have the Chief’s car?” You ask.

She scoffs, “Mine broke down three hours into the shift. Had to call the Chief and walk all the way to his house to get the cruiser.”

“What? Agnes, why didn’t you call me?”

“I wanted you to enjoy your night in, honey.”

You think about arguing, but you recognize the exhaustion in her voice, and decide not to push it—for now. It’s an argument you can save for later.

“So what was it, the battery? I thought we just replaced it.”

“I think the old girl might just be done for. We’ve had her for a while.” Agnes shrugs.

“But that’s… we brought Nicky home in that car.” You whisper, chest aching.

Another piece of your life—connected to your baby—that you won’t get to keep. Agnes tenses, her breathing growing ragged, and you feel terrible; she’s likely already thought about this the whole shift, spent all these hours remembering it alone. That’s why she didn’t call you—she didn’t want to drag you bag into the deep end of the pain, too.

You press a gentle kiss to the side of her neck. No wonder she took the first opportunity to play with you, she needed the distraction.

“I’m sorry, my love.” You murmur.

“Not your fault, honey. These things happen.”

She sounds less and less like herself with every moment. You don’t want to shove the grief aside—the grief counselor said that only made things worse—but this isn’t how you want to handle it; Agnes draped over your freshly-debauched form in the backseat of your car.

This is a conversation, a breakdown for home, where the two of you can take all the time you need to soak in the new loss. You need to distract her away from this.

“Will the force offer you one of their vehicles?”

“Yeah. They should.”

“Where did you break down?”

“By the bridge on Old Forest.”

Perfect.

“Let’s give her a proper sendoff, then.”

Agnes pauses. The look she gives you is questioning, as if not quite believing your suggestion, but she knows better—knows you’re serious about this.

“Alright.”

Which is how you find yourself halfway across town, on a back road with no streetlights, pulling off perilously close to a ditch. Agnes' car is unmistakable even in the dark—from the extra mirror on the hood reflecting the moonlight to the dent in the back bumper she never got fixed. You feel suddenly overwhelmed as you trace your fingers over the body.

So many memories, good and bad. Your late-night trysts in the back seat. Bringing Nicky home. The back seat full of his stinky sports gear. Agnes’ old case files winding up on the floor.

Agnes comes up and drapes her jacket over your shoulders. The warmth of her body has seeped into the cloth, now blocking out the chill in the air, “This might not be the best idea.”

You raise a brow, “Cold feet, detective?”

“Mine are nice and warm. Yours, however...”

She looks up and down your scantily-clad form with a worried furrow of her brow. It’s sweet, but not needed.

“I don’t think our plans will keep me anything but warm.” You smile, leaning back against the car while pulling Agnes close, until every inch of her is pressed against your front. Her hands settle on your hips as she kisses you with a softness belaying the vulnerability she still feels, “Unlock the car.”

“Honey—”

“Agnes, would you rather I went home?” You murmur.

“Of course not.”

“Then what do you want?”

“Beats me.”

“You know what I want?”

Using your leverage against the vehicle, you draw one of your feet up the inside of Agnes’ leg, careful to press every part of yourself against her. Her warmth radiates through her flannel and jeans and you smile.

She raises a brow, “I’m sure I can guess.”

“I want you to bend me over in the backseat of this car like you did that first time. You remember, don’t you? How pissed you were that I’d been teasing you for five dates.” You laugh at the memory, “You couldn’t even make it out of the restaurant parking lot.”

“You were so loud we almost got caught.” She recalls, voice low, gravelly.

“There’s no one around to catch us now.”

Agnes wraps one of her arms around your waist and uses it to tug you sideways, making quick work of unlocking the car. With the hand not on your waist, she opens the back door, and eases her jacket from your shoulders. She lays it out on the cold seats with the warm side up.

Not for the first time, you’re moved by her consideration of your comfort. It would be so easy for a partner to disregard the little things if it meant getting to the end goal faster; but not Agnes. You reward her with a long, slow kiss.

When she pulls away, there’s a fond little smile on her lips. She pats your hip, “On your hands and knees.”

You obey without question. Crawling onto the backseat, you’re reminded of just how confined the space of a car is. You have to keep your head bowed so as not to hit your head on the roof. It’ll be worth your while, but you know the two of you will be feeling the adverse effects of this choice for days.

Agnes follows and shuts the door behind her. She works her way into the backseat until not a bit of space exists between the two of you. Every inch of her front is pressed against you, draped over you like a warm blanket. You push your backside back into her crotch, teasing.

“I should’ve sent you home to get your purple.” You say.

“Be good and you can have my cock later.”

Warm fingertips trail up the back of your thigh until they snake under the hem of your nightgown. The soothing heat of her touch is lovely compared to the bite of the cold air. You lean into it.

“Yes, daddy.” You sigh.

Her body pulls away from yours and you turn, confused. A sharp slap to your backside makes your breath stutter, your core clenching around nothing. Your toes curl.

“Interesting that you want to be good now, when you’ve been testing me all night.”

“What can I say? I’m motivated by rewards.”

You’re satisfied that Agnes seems to be in the moment, rather than locked up in the memories in her head. Intent on keeping it that way, you lean back into her, arching so you can match her entirely. Her muscles go taut and relax and being able to feel it makes you ravenous.

Two fingers push your ripped panties aside and begin to drag up your slit, teasing. It should be noted that you are trying to be good for her, offering the control she takes to so well. You like to think she can tell, too.

When she slips her fingers inside you without torturing you further, you’re sure she knows.

You push back, desperate. You want more of her and bad. It’s as if the orgasms she gave you less than an hour ago never happened. Every muscle in your body quakes with the knowledge of what only Agnes can give you. And you want it so deeply that it threatens to bring tears to your eyes.

“Please.” You beg without prompting, “Please, more.”

A split-second hesitation belays her surprise, but she does slip another finger inside, stretching you even wider. You can’t stop how you move, nor the noises that come out of your mouth. You feel cursed with hunger only she can sate.

It’s this car, this backseat, and the memories here that are driving you so mad. It’s the life attached to it that you never thought you would get; a family, a future, a wife who loves you despite all the ugly parts others had run from. It’s the years you haven’t had to live out alone, the pain you’ve shared. It’s the fact that this act was once a beginning and now it’s an end.

Her lips press against the back of your neck, impossibly gentle, so unlike the role she’s meant to be playing. Something inside you breaks.

“Agnes—“ You choke out.

“It’s okay, honey.”

You let go.

You let go from holding yourself back—fucking yourself on her fingers until you shriek with pleasure. You let go of the ball of emotions in your chest, of hunger and pleasure and guilt. You let go of the pain and let tears spill over onto your cheeks.

It’s not the best orgasm you’ve ever had, but it doesn’t need to be. It’s a goodbye to this piece of your life. It’s an end. And it hurts just the same as it feels good to embrace the potential of something new.

Agnes holds you, steady as ever. You feel the dampness of her own tears on your neck.

You turn and lay on your back, welcoming the weight of her. You use your thumbs to wipe away the tears coming from her beautiful blue eyes.

“Am I forgiven, or do we have to go another round?” She asks.

You grin, not taking your hands from her face, “You’re forgiven, my love.”

“Thank god.”

Agnes drops her head until it rests on your chest. You laugh, extracting the hair tie so you can run your fingers through the length of it. Her arms wrap around you as much as they can.

She presses a kiss to your chest, over where your heart is. You gently work through a knot in between your fingers. The windows are clouded with perspiration. Beads of water reflect what little moonlight peeks through the trees. Moonlight or no, you know every dip and curve of your wife’s form, and could identify every part of her without sight.

The stale coffee smell has worn off, replaced by the faint undertones of the cologne she wears each morning. It’s deep and musky and comforting.

Maybe it’s the weight of her head on your chest in combination with the memories that makes you speak, “Have you ever thought about us trying again?”

She tilts her head so she can look up into your eyes without lifting from her resting place. Her brows are furrowed.

“Trying again?”

The weight of her beautiful eyes on you almost makes you change the subject. These conversations are so much easier without that layer of intimacy. But you’ve started something and you’ll be damned if you don’t finish it.

“To be parents.” You whisper.

“I’m a little past due on that, baby.” Her smile is self-deprecating.

“I’m not.”

“You never wanted to carry. I remember that much.”

“That was then.” You continue smoothing through her hair, “Now… If you want to try again, I’ll do it. I want to do it.”

You can’t decipher the look in her eyes. She doesn’t pull away, but she’s tense.

“We don’t need to decide right now. We have time.”

She nods, “Alright.”

“You’ll still be daddy, even if you aren’t my baby-daddy.”

“That was terrible.”

It doesn’t stop her from grinning, nor does it stop you from laughing. Something in the tension eases. You can’t lean down and kiss her like this, so you press a kiss to the pads of your fingers, and press them to her lips. She nips at them playfully.

The quiet is nice, but you can feel the cold settling into your bones. You need to be back in a heated car before you get sick.

“When is your shift over?”

“In a few hours.”

You nod, figuring out what time she’ll come home and how it fits into your schedule, “I have nothing after work if you want me to make good on those orgasms I owe you.”

“I look forward to it.”

It takes some time, but you and Agnes manage to untangle yourselves and worm your way out of the back seat. She sits, keeping you wrapped in her coat, until the inside of your own car is nice and warm. That earns her a few lingering kisses.

She trails you on the drive home before speeding off to do god knows what during the last few hours of her shift. And when you fall asleep—already feeling sore—an eagerness sets in your chest of what awaits. With an end, a new beginning.

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #agatha all along #agnes o'connor #agnes o'connor x reader #agatha all along x reader #agatha all along fanfiction #agatha harkness fanfiction #wlw #wlw fanfiction #nov2024 #multimilfswritings

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postracehair · 3 hours ago

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trust me

max verstappen x reader | 2.3k

after an incredible (and wet) weekend in brazil, you have a confession to make.

cw: a loving relationship! discussion of anxiety/fear/worrying about your race car driver bf, healthy communication, and softness galore.

a/n: being a wag must be so stressful. like, damn! also, rain races stress me out, personally. this fic is about that.

The triple header comes to an end in the best way possible.

Max Verstappen wins the São Paulo Grand Prix from a 17th-place start! It's the stuff of dreams. The fist around your heart unclenches just a little bit as you watch him smiling, roaring, hoisting his well-earned trophy aloft. It's your best day in a long time, watching your darling boyfriend like that, and you celebrate with everyone late into the night. The Championship battle looms in the background but tonight is about the hard work from the weekend. The stress, the frustration, the damn rain. All of it worth it for the pride you all feel right now.

But what comes after -- that, you can admit, you enjoy even more. Three weeks until Las Vegas and Max and the team have plenty of work to do before then, but for now? For now, it's this: rest.

Everyone gets to go home, finally. And for you, home is wherever Max is. You've spent the first few days of the break thus far at his place. On the floor with the cats, on the couch watching movies. In his bed, sleeping, sometimes, other times... not so much. Hours and hours just being together. You'll have plenty of time for this once the season ends but you can never get enough of him.

You're on the couch, sprawled across the length of it with a book in hand. It's a good one, so much so that you don't notice Max until he taps your ankle and you jump.

"Jesus," you gasp. His lips are pulled up at one corner in the precursor to a full grin, sweatpants slung low enough that you can see the branded band of his underwear between the drawstrings and the hem of his t-shirt. "Where did you come from?"

"Watching race replays," he says with a shrug. "Scooch." You tug your legs back and sit up a little, bookmarking your page as he rounds the couch and plops down where your feet were.

"Max," you whine. "I like to watch those, too. So you can do that thing where you narrate like, every second." You're teasing, but only a little. For all the jokes about "maxplaining," you really do love how he explains things. He tells you what he was thinking at every turn, what the trick is, how long it took him to get it right. He points out his mistakes and those of the other drivers. All of it thoroughly and with enthusiasm, answering your questions like you're the best student he's ever had.

"Yeah, well," he says, sinking into the couch, arm stretched across the cushions towards you. Your eyes rake over the line of his bicep as he talks. "You don't like rain races very much. Wasn't sure you'd want to see it again."

That gets your attention. "How did you know that?" You've never told him outright that they stress you out. It's really important to you that you keep your cool at the track, that you don't do anything to let on that he should worry about you.

But you should know better, it seems.

"I can tell," Max says, looking right at you. "I pay attention."

You hum, not sure what to say. "You've got me there," you confess. "I'm sorry."

"Hey," he tuts. "Why the apology? You can feel however you want to. This weekend was complicated."

He feels too far away. You set your book on the ground and shove your toes under this thigh. He keeps his eyes on your face but you fuss with the hem of your t-shirt rather than look back.

"They're exciting. Rain races, I mean." You sigh. "But I can't help but worry, Max. From the garage, it's so --"

You lose track of your words because Max grabs hold of your legs and tugs them over his thighs as he moves closer to you, almost crowding you against the arm of the couch. He reaches for your collarbone to pick some lint from your shirt, his other arm slung across your calves.

"Were you scared?" he asks. "This weekend, I mean."

Frankly, you avoid telling him things like this because you don't want to distract him. You don't want to detract from his performance in any way and maybe that's selfish, because you know he's very good at what he does and how you feel isn't going to derail his weekend. But you know he loves you, and you know how deeply he feels things. How much he wants to be a good partner, a good driver, a good man. And you try really hard to let him know that he is all of those things.

The reality of your position in his life is that there will always be people who heavily imply that your presence, your actions, your choices could be at fault. It's ludicrous -- Max has said so many times -- but it makes you hype-aware. You don't want to overstep. It's something you know you should articulate to him properly, but you know he'll be upset that you think you can be anything but a good part of his life. It's an endless cycle.

"Hey," he says, mistaking your silence for emotion. "Liefje, I'm fine." He reaches for you, cupping your cheek with a warm hand. You look up at him and find him frowning.

"I know," you say, leaning into his palm. "I know you are. I just -- I don't want it to sound like I'm a whining baby or something."

"Whining baby?" Max gently rubs the skin under your eye with his thumb. "Psh. We've got some of those on track. You couldn't come close to them if you tried."

That gets a laugh out of you and he cracks a smile at the small victory.

You sigh. "I was scared," you admit, voice soft. Max presses a little closer to you, his hand falling from your face to catch yours, fingers twining together.

"Are you always scared?" he asks. "You're more tense on rain weekends, I can tell that much. But you've never really talked about this. I guess I--" He frowns again. "I've never really asked you."

"That's okay," you say. "It's nothing, really."

Blue eyes bore into yours. "No, I want to know," he presses. "Please, tell me?"

You tip your head back a little, eyes on the ceiling. How to say it?

"I guess I'm always a little scared, yeah," you say. "I don't know how I wouldn't be."

He tugs on your hand so you'll look at him. "What is it, do you think?" The question comes out in his typical way. This must be how he is in driver briefings, you think fleetingly. Max is analytical, methodical, always looking for the root of the problem so he can understand it and adapt.

But how do you explain this?

"Well, it's a dangerous sport," you explain. "As you know. And I -- Max, I love you, and I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

The furrow of his brow lessens a bit and he presses a light kiss to the back of your hand. Your stomach flutters, even after all this time.

But Max has no time for your mooning, apparently. "Were you scared before we knew each other?" he asks.

You think about it. "It's different, I guess. I was worried, generally. For all of you. I'm still worried for all of you, but --"

His eyebrow quirks and he fails to hide a cheeky smile. "Me the most?"

You roll your eyes and squeeze his hand. "You the most. But don't tell Carlos that."

Max tuts. "So, now it's just worse? You feel it more?"

Nodding, you try to explain. "I don't even like watching on TV, now, because I'm so far away. I feel so helpless."

You can't make it to every race but you try your hardest, not only to support Max but for your own sanity. It's easier to calm yourself down when you're around other people who believe in him, when you have access to all the details and when he's only a few steps away when he's out of the car.

"I don't want you to be worried," he says, softly. "You don't let on that you are when we say goodbye before the race, aside from being a little tense."

One of your favorite pieces of race weekends -- those few moments when all of his attention is on you. He makes sure you have everything you need and leaves you with a kiss and a smile and a see you later. His confidence and his competence are like balms.

"When I'm looking at you, I'm not as stressed," you say, a bit shy. "You're very good at your job, you know. And your confidence is convincing."

"I know," he says, seriously. "That's why I know it'll be fine. Do you not know that?"

If he was less determined, you'd ask him to drop it, since you're starting to feel embarrassed. But you know he won't let it lie.

"I know it, too, Max." You reach for his face to push back some fringe from his forehead. "I'll always be worried about you, though. You get in the car and drive away and I just -- sit there. And wait for you to come back."

He frowns, deeper this time. You keep your hand on him, cupping his jaw and running your thumb along his stubble.

"And I love it. You know I was a fan before I met you and it's a dream to be there to watch you race. I love seeing you do crazy things like win from p17. It's so much fun."

He knows this about you. You've got a bit of a reputation for your facial expressions in the Red Bull garage, always the first on your feet when he overtakes, jumping up and down when he extends his lead. It's an infectious kind of joy and energy and you lean into it every time, even if your stomach is churning with anxiety.

Max is quiet for a few moments. He covers your hand with his and leans into it further.

"You trust me, right?"

"Of course," you say right away. "Always."

"I've never really thought about it," he says, slowly. "I mean, in the car. I don't worry about you because I'm not worried, so I just thought you knew not to be, too."

"I'll always worry, Max. Even though I trust you."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

Your cheeks heat and you look away from him, pulling your hand free to cradle it in your lap.

"You've got a million other things to worry about besides me," you say. "I don't want to distract you."

Max says your name with a scoff, literally waving his hand as if swatting away your silly notions. "Distract me? Come on," he says. "I wouldn't be a three-time world champion if I could get so easily distracted." He leans into your space, nosing at your jaw. "Even if you are very distracting."

You allow the attention for a few moments before pushing him back with a laugh. His cheeks are flushed, hair a bit of a mess, like after he takes off his helmet. And, god, he looks relaxed. You're so proud of him you can hardly stand it. The season is almost over and you know he's got a lot of work ahead of him, and you've got a lot of worrying. But he's motivated, and you know he can win. You know he'll come back to you.

Max leans his head back on the couch and casts his gaze sideways at you, nose scrunched. "I can't fix this, can I? You're still going to worry."

He sounds so resigned, so disappointed in himself that you tug on his hand so he'll get closer. This time, you frame his face with your hands and kiss him, just a light press of your lips to his. Both of you sigh into it, and you drag your mouth along his cheek until you reach his ear.

"I'm still going to worry," you whisper. "But I love you and I trust you. And I know it'll be okay."

Max sighs and presses his forehead to your shoulder, practically pulling you into his lap so he can wrap his arms around you.

"You better hope it doesn't rain for the rest of the season," he mumbles.

"That damn VSC," you groan, pulling back from him a bit. "I was going to tear my hair out!"

Max laughs. "It kept things interesting," he says lightly. "Rain isn't really a problem for me, schatje, you know this --"

"Because you're Dutch, I know, Max." You roll your eyes. "Even Fernando couldn't keep it together! I mean, the gasps from the garage when --"

The seriousness of your conversation fades as you trade tidbits about the race -- you've done this already, hashed it out in the hotel room and the flight home and in bed since Sunday. Max watches you talk, elbow braced on the couch and his head resting in his hand. His eyes sparkle and you know you're amusing him as he corrects you on the turn names and who went in the wall when. Max loves you: you've never doubted this. He loves you and he cares about how you feel and doesn't want you to be worried.

And while you will be, because you love him, you know that it'll be alright.

"Hey," Max says, interrupting your opinions about start procedures. "I love you, okay? Thank you for worrying about me."

"Graag gedaan," you say. Well, you try to say. Max laughs and corrects your pronunciation. You're welcome, he says, over and over, a kiss to your cheeks, your nose, your forehead each time. Ik houd van je. Your lips, your neck, your jaw.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen fanfic #mv33 x reader #f1 fanfic #my writing #mv33 #fic: trust me

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ienjoywritingfilth · 2 days ago

Text

a sinner i am part iv

trope: Boyfriend's Dad PP character: Joel Miller x f reader / Shawn Miller x f reader / Joel Miller x Tess chapter summary: You and Joel find yourselves alone and things finally come to a head.

wanna see the other parts?

please reblog and review and follow me and all that good shit - IEWF

warning: oral (m and then m gets it), p in v sex, cheating on your bf (but it’s cool, cuz its with Joel and everything is fictional in this universe), fantasy cheating, daddy thrown around, cum swallowing, dirteeee talk, alternative universe b/c daddy miller stays alive and hates golf and he has a son named Shawn, no Sarah. rating: E

part iv : a moment alone

My heart tells me this is the best and greatest feeling I have ever had. But my mind knows the difference between wanting what you can’t have and wanting what you shouldn’t want. And I shouldn’t want you. — Cassandra Clare

Joel and you sit awkwardly across from one another that evening after dinner, trying to join in on the laughter from your partners.

"Tess couldn't stop screaming," Shawn laughs as he shows the table the video he took of Tess in the ATV next to him.

"You were driving so crazy!" Tess giggles back. She's under Joel's arm, smiling. She's beautiful and flushed from the wine.

"How was your ride today you two?"

There it is again: That strange energy that seems to exist between you and Joel. You shoot him a look, surprised to see him looking strangely at you as well.

"It was really beautiful," you say as you bring out your phone from your shorts pocket. "This was the lookout."

Shawn and Tess bend over to look at the beautiful shots you took this afternoon. You'd been so peaceful at that lookout over the ocean, thankful to be away from Joel and your strong desire for him.

"Thankfully Joel drove safely," you say forcing a grin at him over their heads. Tess and Shawn laugh as Joel offers a shallow snigger.

"Despite this Tess still wants to hike that damn volcano tomorrow morning," Shawn says smirking at her over the table. "At fucking sunrise."

"It's supposed to be gorgeous that time of day!" Tess takes another sip of her wine.

Joel takes a deep gulp of his beer, trying to be present but unable to stop thinking about his daydream earlier. Joel watches his sons arm crook around your neck, pulling you close to him.

"Well I know my girl here likes to sleep in."

Shawn's palm grazes your breast as he shifts and Joel watches your nipple pebble in your thin shirt. Joel feels his cock twitch in response and he prays that Tess doesn't notice.

"I also like to sleep in on vacation," you remind Shawn playfully. Your head rests on his shoulder and you feel fondness at how attentive Shawn is being to you today.

"Well you're gonna be bored tomorrow then," Shawn teases you, "Cause we're all hiking it."

Joel gives a groan at the idea. He agreed to it because Tess insisted he join them. But he doesn't really want to do it. His back is sore and he’s so fucking pent up because of you. This vacation is turning into a nightmare.

"If we're leaving early we should hit the hay," Shawn says with a yawn. "Meet at the car at five?"

Everyone agrees and you rise with Shawn taking your hand in his. Joel watches you murmur something to his son and Shawn chuckles, nodding. The two of you disappear into your bedroom, the door closing quickly.

Tess bounces on Joel's cock her pretty breasts jumping with every thrust of his hips upwards. His wide hands keep her from falling over and he grunts with every fall of their bodies. The second they got into the bedroom she pushed him onto the mattress and handed him a condom.

"Missed this cock," she whispered as she guided the head through her damp folds.

"Missed this sweet pussy," Joel whispered back. "Missed how she looks when she's full of me."

Even through the condom Tess feels good. So tight and warm it's only a matter of time before the two of them are groaning into each other's mouths in an attempt to keep quiet. Tess tilts back and begins to ride him earnestly her hips rolling. Joel watches how she slides her pussy up and down his wet dick.

It's just like the fantasy in the ATV. Only it's not Tess he's seeing, it's you in your flimsy clothes riding him. Your pretty face all scrunched up as you bounce on him.

"You're so big Joel," you cry for him. "Too big for my tight pussy."

"Fuuuuuck," Joel groans.

Tess grins down at her boyfriend watching the hypnotized way he gazes where his cock is swallowed by her cunt.

"You feel so good," she tells him before she begins to ride him furiously, the bed squeaking. Joel grunts with one hand fisting the pillow behind his head.

"Fucking take it," he grits out as your tight body continues playing behind his eyes. "Fucking take my cum like a good little whore does."

Tess, turned on from the dirty talk covers her mouth with her hand and moans into her palm. She doesn't want you and Shawn to hear. Joel is in a state of bliss with Tess squeezing his cock and your phantom body riding him. He can picture your face squeezed in an expression of pleasure.

"This is so bad, daddy."

All of a sudden Joel is sitting up and bouncing Tess furiously in his lap. She cries out in pleasure.

"Beg daddy to let you come," Joel growls into her ear. "Beg daddy to use your cunt."

Tess feels her core tightening. Joel has always been good in bed but this feels different almost like he's desperate for her.

"Please daddy," she whimpers.

"Please daddy what?" Joel groans back.

"Please cum in me," Tess says as the orgasm starts in her lower belly. "Use my cunt."

Joel falls back on the bed, his forehead slick with sweat and his hips jutting up brutally. Tess rides him, body twitching as her orgasm nears.

"Show me how a good girl cums for her daddy," Joel rasps.

Tess grips the headboard of the bed and begins to drop down onto his cock over and over until she lets out a muffled whine. Joel lets out a choked moan and spurts into the condom.

When Joel returns from tossing the condom in the bathroom trash Tess is already in her nightdress smiling at him. He crawls into bed next to her and pulls her into a hug.

Tess smiles at him with a glint in her light eyes.

"Daddy huh?"

Joel feels his cheeks going red. He tries to shrug it off casually, unable to look her in the face.

"Just wanted to try something new."

The truth is Joel has never used that nickname in the bedroom. He never understood why men wanted to hear it. But for some reason when he pictures you, he wants you to moan it for him. He wants that taboo edge that comes along with it, that desperate notion that it's wrong on so many levels that makes him think of you naked and blissed-out underneath him while he fucks his girlfriend.

"I liked it," Tess says as she snuggles closer to him. He feels a pang of guilt at what just happened and he kisses her sweetly in remorse. He can’t look at her anymore so Joel flicks of the lamp next to the bed and leaves the room dark.

"I've missed you," Tess says breathlessly next to him. "We've both been so busy at work."

"I know," he sighs tracing little circles along the side of her ribcage. "Gotta get better at that work life balance shit."

Tess laughs, pulling his face to hers for a kiss before announcing that she's exhausted and going to sleep. Joel lays awake as he hears his girlfriend drift off to sleep. Her snores begin but another sound soon has his attention.

You kneel between Shawn's spread legs on the bed with your mouth wrapped around his cock. Your hands are on either side of his thighs and your ass is in the air. You moan around his length trying to sound enthused but in truth all you want to do is go to bed. However you feel so guilty over the dirty thoughts you've been having about his dad that you felt you needed to do this. He lies back on the crisp white bedding with his hips jerking up as he passively lets you suck and taste.

"Your mouth is so good," Shawn grunts as you go down on him.

You breathe through your nose, frustrated that you've been at it so long because your jaw is starting to hurt. You need to think of something to keep you going. Your eyes fall shut and even though you don't want to you begin to think of Joel. How thick his cock looked through his shorts and how much bigger he is than Shawn. Shawn groans appreciatively as your tongue flicks the underside of his cock. In your head its Joel your leaning between the legs of. Joel's cock hitting the back of your throat. You groan again but this time with sincerity at the thought.

"I'm gonna cum," Shawn tells you with a whimper. Your eyes pop open and go up his body to see his eyes squeezed shut. You begin to suck harder just wanting this to be over.

He grips the pillow behind his head as he erupts in your mouth sending hot seed coating your tongue.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck!"

You hate swallowing cum. It's always grossed you out and tonight is no exception. You throw your legs off the side of the bed and rush into the bathroom.

Joel hears the sound of the adjoining bathroom door swinging open and of bare feet slapping over the tile floor. He rolls onto his side and looks at the crack under his door to see the individual hasn't turned on the light. There's the unmistakable sound of spitting into the sink then water running.

The figure begins rinsing it's mouth and then he hears them spit into the sink again. After a pause there is a gentle sigh and Joel knows that it's you in there. His tummy tightens. He realizes what's just occurred. You spit again and then the door on your side creaks shut.

You didn't swallow his cum.

Joel can't understand why that turns him on so much. All he knows is despite cumming moments earlier he still goes to sleep with his cock so hard it throbs.

Shawn rises early the next morning to the soft chime of a text. He looks at it then at you and sighs before sending something off in reply. He feels tense as he dresses for the day, sure to wear his best hiking shoes. He looks at you again and sees the drool at the corner of your mouth.

"Gonna head for a hike to that volcano," Shawn whispers, pressing a ginger kiss to your temple. "Be back in a few hours."

"Mmmmhmmmm okay babe,"' you mutter drowsy with your eyes closed. You're barely awake, still warm and half slumbering.

You don't know how much time has passed before you wake up again to the empty house. You stretch, groaning as your back pops. You yawn, heading into the bathroom, surprised to see it's foggy. You're eyes are closed as you walk to the sink, squeezing toothpaste onto the brush and staring to scrub. You don't even hear the shower running until it suddenly turns off.

"Hey."

Your eyes fly open to look at the mirror in front of you. Joel stands in the glass shower with his brown eyes wide. He's naked and wet from the shower.

"Fuck!"You drop the brush in the sink and go stumbling back groping for the door. "Shit I'm sorry-" you sputter with a loud thunk of your heart. You feel like your whole body is shaking.

"its fine," Joel says in a strained voice. You're thankful his lower half shielded by the shower etching. "Don't worry, it's fine!"

Your hand flies over your eyes as you finally push back against the door, trying in vain to locate the door handle. You hear the creak of the shower door.

"I didn't know," you shriek, "I thought everyone was hiking!"

You hear shuffling and you assume Joel must be wrapping the towel around him as he steps out of the shower.

"Honey its fine."

You feel thick fingers coming to wrap around your wrist, tugging it down. Your eyes are exposed, wide and stuck on Joel. His hair is pushed back from the water and he glistens with droplets.

"It's not a big deal it was an accident.”

"It feels like a big deal." Your eyes begin trailing down his strong stomach to look at the pristine white hotel towel wrapped around his waist.

"Why?"

The moment is charged now, the two of your breathing increasingly quicker. Your eyes trail back up his body, taking their time along his naked chest before they finally glue to Joel's parted lips.

"You know why Joel."

His dark eyes grow darker. You can see the way that the pupil edges out all remaining chocolate brown leaving him with an aroused look that makes your pussy clench.

You feel like you're in a dream when his hand goes to where his towel is tucked at his hip. You don't try to stop him when he tugs it loose and let's it slip to the tilted floor. He stands boldly, not a shred of insecurity in his tall frame.

His cock is thick and large with a slight curve. The colour matches the rest of him but the tip is a blush of mauve. He's half hard but the longer you stare at it between you it hardens further, coming to graze your belly in its ascent.

You lick your lips subconsciously recalling the desperation you had for just a taste of his cock. Joel sees this and feels arousal nudging the base of his spine. Again you lift your eyes to his, uncertain of what Joel is thinking.

Joel can't stop looking at you all soft and sleepy. Your tank is practically see-through and the short panties you wear underneath cut you perfectly to show your ass. He's sure that his need for you is seeping out his pores at this point.

You're halfway onto the cool floor before you realize what you're doing. When your bare knees make contact with the tile you seem to come back into your body. Joel's cock juts directly in front of your face, his head tilted to look down at you.

Tess is gone on a hike. She left him with a kiss to his sleepy mouth and a quick love you. That's what he should be thinking of. Not his son's girlfriend on her knees, her plump lips inches from the head of his cock.

But all of that seems so far away right now. His heartbeat is pounding out of his chest because you look so seductive with your hair falling into your eyes and your mouth glossy from anxiously licking your lips. You wait there on your knees, your hot breath fanning over the head of his cock and Joel feels himself get desperate. Joel's hand comes to lace its fingers through your hair, the thick digits cupping the back of your skull. He tugs gently at the roots and you shudder an exhale in pleasure. You feel his hand cupping your skull gingerly urging your face forward.

"They won't be back for a bit." He says in a husky murmur without tearing his eyes from yours.

His hips roll incrementally and his thick cock bobs up and down. It’s so big that you have to drag a shaky hand to it and wrap your fingers around the base. Your fingertips can't even touch when you circle him.

Joel groans when you touch him, a low, rumble that makes your pussy tingle. You drop your hand nervously. Joel stares down at you, the both of you clearly waiting for the other to make the first move.

You gaze up at him in supplication before you tilt your head back and let your tongue slide out. Joel takes a deep sharp breath at the sight of your mouth open luridly and your tongue begging for his cock.

Joel grips his cock by the base while transfixed by your mouth. You sit patiently as he shuffles forward and he taps the head of his cock against your wet tongue several times. He enjoys the damp slapping sound. And so do you if your squirming is any indication.

He begins to guide the head of his cock along your tongue in slow stripes. Back and forth, rocking it closer and closer to your open mouth.

I'm a bad man.

You begin to suckle the tip of him, intimidated at his girth. You're rewarded with a deep growl from Joel and his fingers tightening in your hair. The sound makes you excited as well as nervous. What if Tess and Shawn come back early? There are so many opportunities to be caught. That shouldn't make your pussy ache but it does. Joel sees your hesitation and loosens the fist in your hair. He doesn't want you feeling forced to do this but he also thinks he might die if you don't wrap your mouth around his cock soon.

"It's just the two of us here." His words are slow and low and soothing and his eyes are black and glossy with desire.

You feel lulled into moving forward once more and now you begin to lick the tip of him without looking away. His thighs shake as he watches and feels you. You're so desperate for him and you begin to take him into your mouth.

I'm a bad man. This is wrong and immoral and disgusting and Joel had never been so hard in his life.

"It's okay," Joel soothes like you're a feral animal he's trying to tame. "Just relax."

His hand sweeps back your hair from your face. He wants to watch every moment of you blowing him.

"You want it don't you?" Joel coos, his hip slowly edging forward when you make no move. "I know you want it, honey. You want this so bad," he mutters and he's not sure if it's for him or you. "Just open up a little and I can give it to you.”

You nod up at him with luminous eyes. He wonders if there's still a part of you that feels guilty. Your mouth parts as you begin to take him, your cheeks bulging as his cock begins to fill your mouth.

"Uh huh just like that," Joel tells you warmly. "Just like that yea just like that honey."

Your palms balance on his naked thighs, warm and damp from the shower. Then all of a sudden you pull yourself off of him, saliva clinging from your lips to the head of his cock.

"Wait Joel maybe we shouldn't."

This is so wrong. Shawn is your boyfriend you love him. What the fuck are you doing in here sucking his father’s cock?

"Shhh," Joel offers in a sibilant hush. "It's okay honey. You're feeling guilty I know, but I know how much you want this. You do, don’t you? It’s okay you can tell me.”

You squirm on the ground at the way he’s speaking to you. All soft and charming like his wet cock isn’t brushing impatiently against your lips. Everything in you is commanding that you stop this immediately but a sinister voice in the back urges you to continue.

“We’ll just do it once,” he promises in a voice of velvet. “Just once.”

You gaze up the length of Joel’s naked body, taking in the strong shoulders, the lean neck and the plush mouth that smirks down at you right now. He takes his cock by the base and and drags the head along your lower lip, tapping it there like he’s knocking at the front door waiting to be let in.

“You want my cock baby girl?”

You exhale, surrendering.

“Yea, I want it.”

“Show me.”

You hate yourself for exhaling before licking the tip of him and whining when you watch his cock drool pre-cum. But you don’t hate yourself enough to stop taking him into your mouth. You whine around him, the guilt and the desire mixing up inside of you.

“I know,” Joel coos as if he feels your turmoil. "It's okay to want this."

You hum around his cock and he smirks at your cock-drunk expression. He begins to slide his cock deeper into your mouth and smiles contentedly to himself when he sees how your mouth strains around him.

“Wider.”

He groans down at you as you work your mouth over him, obeying his order. You want to pleasure him and show him how good you are. You want him to make those low growls again. He begins to shift, his hand holding your head in place as he thrusts into your mouth. You gag slightly but Joel doesn't notice. His head is thrown back and he moves like a wild animal.

It's only your mouth and you feel like heaven. He can only imagine how your cunt would feel. He needs to feel it, taste it, smell it. He needs to taste every part of your body. He needs you to call him daddy in a whine as he fucks into your beautiful body.

I'm a bad man.

He's close now, his balls tightening. He doesn't know why but he thinks of you spitting into the sink. About how his son's cum wasn't worthy enough for you but Joel's is. His hands move to your cheeks, caressing them as he continues to thrust.

"You'll swallow mine, won't you, baby girl?"

Yes, you will. You want to feel him down your throat you want to savor any part of him he'll share with you.

He grunts in approval when you nod and, his hips start slapping against your face. He’s gonna come and he’s gonna make sure that you don’t waste a bit of him. His hand goes to the top of your head, holding you in place again. You've taken his cock so deep your nose is smashed in the thatch of hair around his cock.

You're gonna swallow his cum. You want to do it. You wouldn't swallow for his son but you'll swallow for him. Joel feels dizzy with elation and deplorable need as his body tightens. He holds your head as ropes of cum shoot down your throat. It's so much that your cheeks plump and he lets out a strangled moan.

He holds you and waits, watching as your delicate throat bobs, swallowing him down before you beam up at him. He doesn't have to say anything. You simply hold out your tongue to show him it's clean. He gives a wobbly smile and nods in approval with his blushing chest heaving.

You go to say something when the sound of your cell chirping in the other room drains the blood from your face. What did you just do? You've crossed the line. You sucked the cock of your boyfriend's dad. You swallowed his cum. He tapped his cock on your tongue. He fucked your mouth and you loved every second. Your face goes beet red and prickles in the heat of shame. Joel seems to be feeling the same because he helps you to your feet looking concerned as he re-wraps the towel around his waist breathing in and out quickly.

"Better answer that. Might be Shawn."

“Yea."

Joel twists away and walks to his bedroom. His eyes fall shut and he grimaces as he closes the door behind him with a click of the lock. He hears you chatting on the phone to his son and catches his reflection in the bedroom mirror. His face morphs from that of a disgusted father to that of a depraved man.

I'm a bad man and it feels so good.

#pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #smut #joel miller #joel x reader #au joel miller #joel miller x original character #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you

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mayasaurusss · 2 days ago

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Transfem Lucy nsfw blurbs.

What if the wasteland's craze got to Lucy's head?

Contains: gender neutral reader who is described at one point to have a 'slit' (is a slit a hole? Is a hole a slit?), transfem Lucy, description of blood, heavy smut.

A/N: everytime I had to write the word "cock" or "cum" I felt unwhorthy of entering God's heaven.

Lucy who has started to go mad, the influence of the wasteland taking a toll on her mental health. She is hungry, tired and the blood loss is certainly not helping her. She first sees you when she's resting, and you begin chased down by a group of radroaches. She first sees you when she's resting near a bonfire, running away from a group of radroaches. She brutally kills them, letting her anger and frustration out on the poor beasts, stomping on their skulls and huffing as the blood colors her boots. She looks back to see you terrified of her, shaking. Despite how much she wants to be left alone, she can't help but ask you if you're okay. And you only stick to her side from then on.

Lucy who is weary of you; anyone who she tried to help turned their back on her, so of course she doesn't trust you at all. She reluctantly lets you venture out with her, sighing as you fall in the sand or get scared by a mutant. She can kill them no problem, so why can't you fend for yourself? Your behaviors only make her angrier: you are too sweet, too caring, trailing behind her like a lost puppy. You seem exactly how she was, but hope hasn't died yet in you, and that makes her anger grow.

Lucy who, as time goes on, finds it harder and harder to contain herself near you. You are the first person who hasn't tried to kill her. You are kind, gentle, and most of all, totally her type.

Lucy who starts to get hard when she's around you. She feels her blood run down from her head to her dick, pooling and warming her cum for you.

Lucy who has to grip her cock in order to contain herself. You are snoozing off near a bonfire and she's grabbing herself hard, so hard that her knuckles turn white. She breathes slowly, eyes heavy with desire. How she wishes she could take you right here, fucking you under the night sky, to hear your moans as you beg her to go faster, harder.

Lucy who feels so ashamed to stroke herself when you're sleeping. She'll buck upwards into her hands, tugging harshly at her cock while trying to contain her moans. When cum dribbles out of her cock, she feels guilty, but the idea that you might wake up and find her stroking herself is thrilling to say the least. She imagines you hearing her grunts, finding her hands tight on her cock, slowly straddling her hips, gently teasing her... "Lucy? What's going on?" you ask her groggily, finding her flat against the desert soil, feigning her sleep. A fantasy should remain a fantasy.

Lucy who has a hard time traveling with you. She just can't stop thinking about you under her, moaning her name. It has become so hard for her that it's affecting your travels. You wonder why Lucy so often calls for a trip to the bathroom -you just have to wait for her to come back from some abandoned house- and stays there for minutes at a time.

Lucy who, when she finally can't take it anymore, gets on her knees and begs you to take her cock in any way you want.

Lucy who's kisses are rough, hungry for you to give yourself to her. The wasteland's cold night wind hits against her naked chest, but she couldn't care less about it now. She just wants, no, needs to have you. She takes your hand and rubs it on her, feeling it press on her length in ways that make her go mad. You slip her free of pants and boxers, watching how her dick slaps against her stomach, a drop of precum falling down from the slit. She just looks...delicious.

Lucy who grabs you by the hips, presses and rubs her length on you and spits on it, feeling how wet her skin becomes. She'll be a tease, not fucking you immediatley; rather, she will rut against you, forcing your ass to grind back on her. She will continue to grind back against you until she can't take it anymore. She rubs her cock on your slit then, sighing as she finally claims her prize. Who when she's finally inside of you, goes mad with pleasure. She will mount you, press you against the dusty soil and driving her cock into you harshly while biting your neck. She fucks you like an animal. Her balls hitting you as she drives in deeper, sinking herself into you.

Lucy who eats you out like a starved woman. She's licking and biting and kissing your slit, hypnotized by the view of goosebumps traveling on your naked skin. Who keeps herself only for your touch. She's a firm believer that your touch on dick is far better than hers could ever be. She moans as you grind against her tongue, cock red and leaking and hurting; but the wait is so much better than just stroking herself.

Lucy who, if anyone dares to interrupt your shared time together, be it beast or ghoul, will draw her gun from her clothes and shoot them without even looking, never leaving your heat. Who will gladly continue to eat you out after the bodies fall to the ground and their blood splatters across your stomach, too focused on bringing you the pleasure you deserve.Lucy who, when you finally come across another vault, has the time of her life by giving you the best sex you could ever ask for. The moment you two walk inside one of the vault's bedroom, she has already stripped free of her clothes and kisses you, inching her hand towards your crotch. There is not a moment that isn't spent without her dick in your mouth, without you riding her to death. Minutes pass with her dick begin perfectly nestled between your thighs, the sound of skin against skin acts as a background for your lovemaking. Lucy's own moans almost rivals your own, high and euphoric as she chases pleasure, pulling you down flat against her and pummeling up in you. Lucy who, when she cums deep inside, sees stars blossoming beneath her eyelids, feels the hot remains of her cum flow from your slit, wettening and resting in the space between your bodies.

#fallout x you #fallout x reader #lucy maclean x you #lucy maclean x reader #smut blurb

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in-death-sacrifice · 8 hours ago

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Okay so I gave this idea of being a companion for Rook and having a mutual pining think going on with Lucanis. Could you write anything like that?

Warnings: Mutual pinning, Comfort, Fluff, One bed trope!

Lucanis Dellamorte x GN!Rook

Hope you enjoy! Requests are open so please send them my way! I am working on a couple of oneshots too! Along with some smut so if there's any kinks you think work well with our assassins you want to see it send them in my requests!❤️

Lucanis stared at the ceiling, his heart beating so wildly as he looked at you. Your body so close to his, tucked perfectly under the covers as exhaustion finally crept in. He should sleep but he was worried about spite, about where he might end up without people guarding the exits. Or without the safety of being tucked away in a spot of the fade that no one could enter.

The group were exhausted after their fight against the antaam, most of them almost beaten to pulp with their new weaponry. You all chose to sleep in a nearby inn, the only trouble there was only one room left that was finished with a Twin and Double. He offered to sleep in the chair, knowing he wouldn't be able to get a wink if he tried hard enough to prevent it. But of course you disapproved, practically shoving him to the bed and instructing him to stay like a dog. It was cute seeing you care so much, his heart melting at the fact you didn't even flinch at the idea to lay next to him and his demon partner.

He could feel the heat radiating off your body, wanting nothing more than to run his fingers through the strands of your hair. He found himself getting lost in the thought of the texture, wondering if the strands were soft and silky or rough. The slithers of skin that your evening outfit gave off were enough to get the blood pumping southwards. He felt like a teenage boy laying here; begging for a touch at the first chance he shares a bed. Lucanis continued to watch you, the way your features are relaxed in your sleep; your chest slowly rising with each breath. He wondered if your calmness was because of his own presence, if you felt the same way as he did. If he tainted your dreams like you do with the few he got to experience.

He wanted to fight it, the need to be closer; the feeling of his eyelids getting heavier with each breath. He could just pump himself with coffee in the morning like normal but maybe spite would be quiet just this once. Allow him to relax and finally catch up on the much needed sleep to chase away his constant headache. He didn't get to choose as he finally succumbed to the darkness, falling into a pit of deep sleep...thankful no horrors of the past year to plague his mind.

When you awoke you struggled to move, there was something pinning you to the mattress. Your arm is outstretched to feel for the man beside you only to find him laying on your chest. His arms tucked tightly around your waist hugging you like you escape his grasp, turn to dust. His breathing was even, his hair messy and falling over his eyes instead of in its usual pushed back style. You could feel his breath against the skin of your chest, the puffs of air leaving goosebumps against your skin. You knew you should move, but you didn't want to. It felt nice, grounding to be held like this. So instead of waking up you fell back into your deep slumber, this time you fingers gently playing with the longer strands of hair at the back of his head. Maybe he likes you too but until you knew for certain...his frustratingly slow shows of affections would do for you.

You only prayed the dangers you both had to face would allow you to relish in this moment.

#dragon age veilguard #dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #lucanis dellamorte #lucanis x rook #lucanis dellamorte x reader #lucanis dellamorte x rook #lucanis x reader #da4 #da4 lucanis

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planetpedri · 2 days ago

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Hi! Would it be possible to request fluff with Cole Palmer, like a lazy morning in bed when he doesn't have training and then getting up to make breakfast together? I love your work sm

Mornings like this — Cole Palmer.

Pairing: Cole Palmer x Fem!Reader

Summary: You loved when Cole didn’t have training. It meant you got to have a normal day together, doing normal things like cook breakfast together without needing to rush.

Word count: 620+

Disclaimer/s: Fluffy + banter !

A/N: I’m finally going through my reqs heyyy

Sun seeping through your curtains had to be the most annoying thing. On Cole’s rare day off, you two liked to sleep in, but the sun had a vendetta against you, clearly. Your boyfriend shifted behind you with a groan, nuzzling his face into the nape of your neck.

“How many times do I have to beg you to get blackout curtains?” He grumbles, his voice raspy with sleep.

A small breath of laughter escapes your lips. “Baby, if you want them so bad, you can buy them.”

Cole’s eyes fluttered open, an amused grin on his lips when his eyes met yours. “Fine. Today, we go get them today.”

Shuffling around to face him, you nod in agreement. “Breakfast first though. Are we in the mood for anything specific? I would kill for Belgian waffles.”

“Do we have flour?” Cole quirks an eyebrow, “because if we do, then we can make some, but I want bacon.”

“Bacon and waffles is an odd combo, but i’m so down.” You sit up, stretching your arms and back. “Okay, I need to go to the bathroom first, i’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

The man nods, climbing out of bed alongside you. He goes to place a kiss on your lips, but you dodge him. “Oh.. we need to brush our teeth first.”

His lips purse and he has to suppress a groan, but nods in agreement anyways. So instead of making his way to the kitchen, he follows you to the bathroom.

After your morning routine was done and you both make your way into the kitchen, you begin preparing for breakfast cooking. You both move in slow motion, too tired to make a hasty breakfast like you usually would on his training days.

“Pass me the measuring cups?” You sigh, putting your hand out patiently.

Cole steps away from the stove where he was making his bacon to grab the cups. Handing them to you, he goes back to where he was previously.

Your phone was connected to a speaker, playing soft tunes while the two of you cooked. “Ay, can I have a drink?”

Your lips pull into a frown. You’d just poured the perfect cup of orange juice. Reluctantly, you hand your boyfriend the glass. “Don’t drink it all, Cole.” You point at his accusatorially, which he feigns offense at before taking two large gulps just in spite.

You gasp, resisting the urge to lunge at him. “Hey! What did I say? You’re such a—“

“Woah!” He laughs, “watch it!”

“A loving, kind, boyfriend.” You grit through a forced smile, “hand it over.” Your boyfriends laughter echoed throughout the kitchen as he hands you the now half empty cup.

Once breakfast had been made, you two sit down at the table across from each other. “So, we go get curtains at around one, and then stop at the new café down the road? I want to try it, your sister said it’s amazing.”

Cole hums, “after that can we stop by the mall? I want to get a new hoodie.”

“You have like—five thousand. Why do you need another?” Your lip curls into a teasing grin.

“Yeah, and so why is my closet empty? Oh, should we go take a peek in yours?” He shoots back. Your smug look falters. Well. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Oh, shut up.” You huff. “New hoodie, got it.”

The rest of the morning goes smoothly, both of you showering and getting ready for the day at a snails pace. You were grateful for his days off, they always made for the perfect lazy days. Plus, any extra time with Cole was time well spent, no matter how productive.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any of my posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

#cole palmer #cole palmer x you #cole palmer x reader #cole palmer one shot #cole palmer x y/n #cole palmer imagine #blurb #football #fluff #chelsea fc #chelsea football club

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sentinelally · 3 days ago

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Spoilers for 8.06 under the cut but I have a hastily written idea of what should happen, even if it seems likely that it won’t…

Buck is left broken from the breakup, spends weeks doing nothing for himself and dreading his own loneliness. His family at the 118 are concerned at his lack of joy and energy, but not one thing they do snaps Buck out of it.

A couple months pass and Buck decides to finally get back out there, maybe take Tommy’s advice. He has been openly queer for longer, maybe there is something to that advice. Maybe he will be able to connect with them like he used to. Back to Buck 1.0, he thinks. So he matches with a few people, and makes plans to meet up with a really hot guy.

The date goes really well. The guy is interesting. No cleft, but that’s not what he’s looking for. He needs different. Something that isn’t going to remind him of the pilot-shaped hole in his heart. He decides to go back to the guy’s place and see how compatible they are in bed. But as soon as things get hot and heavy with him, Buck realizes he doesn’t want this. He wants something deeper, something that this guy doesn’t have. He doesn’t want this. So he leaves without sleeping with him. Buck 1.0 reversion is a total failure.

His next match is with a girl. She’s gorgeous, dark hair, green eyes. She’s a total catch. Best thing, she’s not a guy. Guys remind him of someone he doesn’t want to think about. The date comes a couple nights later and Buck feels anxious about it. She is super interested in him, but the closer the date gets, the less interested Buck grows. He doesn’t cancel the date and tries to get to know her anyways, tries to feign interest as she talks. He can’t stop thinking about how this parallels Abby’s relationship with That Man, how he’s treating this girl the same way That Man treated Abby. At the end of the night, Buck decides against another date and returns home alone. He cannot bear to put either of them through a relationship that he does not want.

But what does Buck want?

What does he need?

The attraction was there with the man he met a couple nights ago. And it was there tonight when he was with the woman. He isn’t repelled from them. They’re just missing something.

Something like a cleft.

A flight suit.

Henleys.

That amazing cologne that Tommy put on before they go out on a date night.

Tommy.

He wants Tommy.

He needs Tommy.

His phone buzzes. Eddie texting him to come to the hospital. Apologizing for ruining his date. Buck scoffs, thinking there’s not much to ruin at this point.

He rushes to the hospital, expecting something with Bobby, Hen, or Chim. But finds Tommy.

“Why is Buck here, Eddie?”

“Buck has every right to know. Didn’t think you were going to cut him off completely.”

“We broke u-”

Buck isn’t going to let him finish this sentence.

“You broke up with me. This wasn’t mutual. How did this happen anyways?”

“That’s-”

“He fell out of the helicopter while servicing it. Banged his head pretty hard, bruised his neck. Nothing broken, don’t worry.”

Buck is seething. Tommy is not that careless.

“I’m okay, so you can leave, Buck. Eddie can take me home.”

“Enough with calling me Buck. Only my friends call me Buck. And you are not my friend. You never were just my friend. You were so much more. That’s why I wanted you to call me Evan that whole time. That’s why I hate it when you call me Buck!”

Tommy opens his mouth to speak and like hell Buck is letting that happen.

“And one more thing. I love you, Tommy. I didn’t want to say it like this, when I’m begging you to give us another shot. I wanted to say it when we were at home together, watching a movie, or lying in bed together after an amazing night. But it’s how I feel - I love you, and I don’t want anyone else. I don’t need anyone else. I just need you to love me back.”

Tommy looks at Buck, stunned into silence, the fight and belligerence from earlier dissipating rapidly as Buck speaks.

“What brought this on?”

Buck takes Tommy’s hand in his own.

“I came here from a date with a girl. I wanted to like her, but she wasn’t you. Neither was the guy I saw the other night. Couldn’t get out of his place fast enough.”

“You ended a date for me?”

“Well the date was over. I couldn’t even pay much attention. And the guy from the other night? Didn’t even make it to the bedroom. I couldn’t get you out of my head.”

“Why, Evan? I broke your heart…”

“Because, you idiot, I love you. And I thought I was the idiot.”

“Maybe I am an idiot…”

Neither noticed the moment when Eddie left the room, but both men look around for him, only noticing that they are alone, the monotonous beeping of the heart rate monitor adding to the silence in the room while neither man talks.

“Is that an apology or regret I hear?”

“I don’t know. Both? Do I even have a right to ask for forgiveness?”

“Why don’t you try and see? Make an effort like I did for you after you left me not once, but twice?”

Tommy stares intensely at Buck, trying to read if that challenge was playful or-

Is Buck the kind of person to goad him into asking for forgiveness only to deny it?

He has to try. Things haven’t been the same without Buck.

“I won’t leave you again…if you take me back, that is…”

Buck surges forward and kisses Tommy aggressively, stopping only when Tommy winces as his head throbs in pain.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, Tommy. Is your head okay? Neck?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just sore. In fact, probably better than I’ve been in the last couple months.”

Eddie wanders back in, finding Buck and Tommy almost cuddling in the hospital bed.

“Fucking finally. You two have made me miserable for two fucking months.”

He snaps a picture and sends it to a group chat. Buck’s phone buzzes, irritating him briefly.

Then Tommy’s phone buzzes.

Buck opens the text and it’s an empty chat history.

A new group text.

One with Tommy in it.

Only texts there being a pic of him and Tommy cuddling, captioned “Fucking finally. You all owe me $20!”

And Buck knows everything is right with the world.

#buck x tommy #bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #evan x tommy #tevan #911 tommy #9 1 1 fanfiction #9 1 1 on abc #bi buck #rough draft

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totowlff · 1 day ago

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chapter fourty-nine — a single wish

➝ at his 70th birthday, niki has only one wish. it's up to elisabeth to make it true.

➝ word count: 1,9k

➝ warnings: none

➝ author’s note: back from interlagos and to the keyboard. hope you enjoy this chapter.

FEBRUARY, 2019

Silence finally reigned in the room. After nearly an hour of pacing back and forth, rocking Andi and humming some random tune, he finally fell asleep. A relief for Elisabeth, especially after a night full of different, not to say conflicting, emotions.

Placing the baby carefully in the crib, she held her breath for a few seconds, watching her son stir. “Please, please,” Elisabeth thought, pressing her lips together as the boy let out a sigh, finally seeming comfortable enough.

Mentally thanking the universe, she left the room, walking slowly down the hall toward the master suite of the penthouse. It was in these moments that Elisabeth noticed the aches in her body and how tired she felt. Motherhood had proven to be a constant challenge, especially with Andi.

From the early days, the little boy had shown himself to be demanding and impatient. If he wasn’t in his mother’s arms at the moment he decided he was hungry, he would cry loudly. Burping him was another dilemma, as he only liked it when his father did it. Bath time wasn’t easy either, especially since Elisabeth had trouble with some movements due to her C-section incision, while diaper changes always ended with someone getting peed on.

However, his big, toothless smiles made it all worth it.

Entering the bedroom, Elisabeth found Toto sitting on the bed, reading something on his iPad with his glasses resting on the tip of his nose.

— Is he asleep?

— Yes — she murmured, collapsing onto the mattress heavily.

— Do you want me to take over tonight? — the team principal asked, lowering the tablet onto his lap.

— No need, you have to go back to Barcelona tomorrow, you need to sleep well — Elisabeth replied, rubbing her eyes — Besides, I need time to think…

— Think about what?

She hesitated to answer, staring at the ceiling for long seconds. In theory, it wasn’t something Elisabeth should discuss with Toto, considering his position on the team and the board of investors. However, before all that, he was her partner and confidant, the man she had chosen to share her life and start a family with. There were no secrets between them.

— About my father's offer.

Toto raised an eyebrow.

— Offer? Is that why he called you earlier?

She simply nodded, her mind drifting back to hours before when they had been at her parents’ apartment celebrating Niki’s 70th birthday.

Despite being a significant milestone, the celebration had to be reduced to a dinner with the children, their partners, and the grandchildren due to the ex-driver's still fragile health. The previous month, he had been hospitalized again due to a flu, so caution was necessary.

— But next year, I want to go back to Vegas — Niki said, drawing laughter from the group — I deserve to celebrate in style, preferably with all those dancers.

The dinner went by smoothly, with conversations filling the air while everyone enjoyed the schnitzel prepared by Marlene and Claire. Between Elisabeth and Niki, Andi, in his stroller, seemed to follow the discussions with his attentive blue eyes. After the meal, it was time for the grandfather to spoil his youngest grandchild, joined by Lennon and Ellison, who held his little hands and made funny faces to make him laugh.

The scene was sweet for Elisabeth. If she had once feared her father would never hold her child, now there was only joy in seeing him joke and smile broadly as Andi babbled his responses and tried to grab the oxygen catheter or the cap his grandfather was wearing.

— No, no, opa needs this, little one — he replied good-naturedly, gently moving the curious fingers away from the nasal cannula.

After playing with the kids for a while, Niki handed the baby over to Marlene and stood up, asking Elisabeth to accompany him to his office. It wasn’t uncommon for him to use her visits to get updates on his business affairs.

However, this time the situation took a different turn when, after placing the oxygen concentrator on the desk, he sat down heavily and asked a question.

— Mauslein, do you like your job?

Elisabeth blinked.

— Well, yes, I studied for it…

— I’m talking about working at Mercedes, in Formula 1. Do you like it?

She smiled.

— Oddly enough, I do. It’s wonderful to see the work pay off on the track, the victories, the championship titles — Elisabeth said — Besides, I like working with Toto; we make a good team, especially with you being away…

— That’s good — Niki replied, taking off his red cap. At that moment, she realized how fragile he looked — And that’s why I want to make you an offer.

— An offer?

— You know I won’t be back in the paddock anytime soon, especially after this last hospitalization, right? I need to focus on my recovery before thinking about anything else — her father explained, his hands resting on his belly — This means I won’t be able to be active in my role with Mercedes. Not like you.

Elisabeth crossed her arms, somewhat nervous about the direction of the conversation.

— Dad, I’ll be on leave until May; it’s not like…

— You’ll be back before me, Mauslein. And thinking about that, about the team and everyone in the operation, I wanted to offer you my shares and the position of non-executive director.

A small incredulous laugh escaped her lips.

— You’re kidding, right? — Elisabeth asked, completely thrown off — You’ve got to be joking…

— Do you think I would joke about this? — Niki retorted, serious.

It was in that split second she realized it was a real offer. One so huge and meaningful that Elisabeth paused for long moments, considering how resolute and sincere her father had been in saying those words.

— What did you tell him? — Toto asked, snapping her out of her thoughts. Looking at the team principal’s face, Elisabeth saw the concern mixed with exhaustion.

— I asked him if he was sure about what he was offering, if he understood the magnitude of it because there’s a lot of money involved, especially now with the team having grown so much. And he said yes — she replied, turning to face Toto, one hand between her face and the pillow — He said he sees no reason not to do it since I already do most of the work for him.

— Well, he’s not lying.

— But the thing is, I don’t know anything about cars. I have no idea how to contribute to making the car better. I’ve never driven a race car, I don’t know how to deal with the drivers, I… I can’t replace him, Toto.

The team principal gently placed a hand on her cheek.

— And you won’t have to, because the team doesn’t need a replacement. We need people who add value, and you do that every day.

— How? I just say my father’s opinions in meetings; people only see me as his daughter, not as an executive or anything like that. I’m Niki’s representative, nothing more.

— Liesl, you know you’re more than that. You know you can deliver much more, especially in an important position like shareholder or non-executive director — Toto said softly, his eyes locked on hers — But first, you need to believe you’re capable of taking on that role.

The words left Elisabeth thoughtful. Everyone around her said she was fully capable of being a successful executive, the woman who would continue the work Niki had already done. Yet the fear still lingered, like a ghost haunting her since she was young, whispering in her ear that she would never be successful, that everything she had was because of the right connections, that she didn’t deserve any of it.

— Do you believe it?

— I will always believe in you, Liesl — he murmured, kissing the tip of her nose — But that’s a conversation for tomorrow. Rest now, my love.

Smiling a little, Elisabeth snuggled against the pillow, allowing herself to drift into a light, dreamless sleep, periodically interrupted by Andi’s protests through the baby monitor, announcing he was hungry, had a dirty diaper, or just wanted his mother’s attention.

Elisabeth allowed herself to ponder the offer for a few more days, alternating between reading team reports and taking care of Andreas. The boy slept against her chest as his mother read one of the latest performance reports from Mercedes’ finance department. The numbers were good, but changes in structure would have to be made, especially with the new financial regulations being implemented in 2021.

“We’ll definitely need more people in finance”, she thought, running a hand over her forehead.

It was the following weekend when Elisabeth finally found the courage to go to Lichtental to discuss Niki’s proposal. It was the last day of preseason testing in Barcelona, a good enough excuse for her and Andi to visit her parents’ apartment.

As always, Marlene picked up the grandson as soon as they arrived, chatting and playing with the boy and the dogs, who wagged their tails excitedly. Elisabeth then headed to the living room, where Niki was sitting in front of the television.

— Good morning, Mauslein — he greeted her, receiving a kiss on the cheek in return.

— Good morning, how are we?

— With an oil leak in the car — Niki grumbled as the silver car in the garage was shown on TV — Valtteri’s going to lose the morning session because of it.

— What a mess — Elisabeth muttered, crossing her arms.

— Yeah, a mess — he replied, adjusting the oxygen catheter in his nose.

Silence stretched out in the living room, with the sound of Marlene talking to Andreas and the dogs in the background making her feel more tense.

— Dad, I… I wanted to talk about your offer.

Niki glanced at her.

— Are you going to accept?

She let out a sigh.

— Partially. I accept becoming a shareholder, but I can't take your seat on the board. I don’t want your position on the team to be seen as some sort of inheritance…

— No one’s going to see it that way — he started to grumble, but his daughter interrupted.

— Everyone will see it that way, especially considering that I’m your daughter and I’m engaged to Toto. It's already enough having to hear people in the paddock hoping I'll get Mercedes in case of a divorce…

Niki laughed.

— You shouldn’t listen to those kinds of people.

— How can I not? They're saying what everyone…

— Elisabeth, if I’d cared about everything people said about me, especially after the accident, I’d have never left my house again — her father said, resting his hands on his belly — When I showed up in Monza, I had to face an entire team convinced I shouldn’t have even left home. The old Ferrari had already put Reutemann in my place, sure I’d never race again.

— It's not the same…

— It's exactly the same, Elisabeth. Your confidence has to be bigger than other people’s doubts. And there's no better place to practice that than in an environment like a boardroom.

She pressed her lips into a thin line. Niki was right, she needed to trust herself, her instincts as a businesswoman with years of experience. However, Elisabeth wanted to do things the right way, not hastily or carelessly.

— If you believe I should be the non-executive director, I accept your decision. But first, I want the proposal to be deliberated by the board and accepted by them.

Niki smiled.

— I’m sure they’ll accept, Mauslein.

#toto wolff #wlffog #formula 1 fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfic #toto wolff fanfic #scwlff #toto wolff x oc #formula 1 x oc #formula one x oc #f1 x oc #formula one fic

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sweetestcaptainhughes · 1 day ago

Text

i love having you home - Cole Caufield

Word Count - 2.9k

Author's Note - Thank you as always for reading and being patient with me as I get back into writing on a semi more regular basis.

Warnings - smut with very little plot, mentions of masturbation, male receiving.

Summary - Cole comes home from a very long and disappointing roadie, and he finds his girlfriend asleep on the coach. He decides to wake her up, to tell her that he's home, but what happens when in her groggy sleepy state she admits something she normally never would.

Slowly Cole made his way out of his car and up the driveway to his house. It had been a rough roadie, and it was hitting him hard because he felt like he was leaving everything out on the ice and yet his team was not winning despite his best efforts. Cole knew he couldn’t do everything, that they were a team, but somehow despite being a young team, he was finding himself annoyed with himself, asking himself what more he could do so that they could start winning again. But all of his thoughts were pushed behind him as he stepped into his house, he left his hockey duffle and shoes by the door, he could see a soft light glowing from the kitchen. Y/N he thought to himself, he found himself smiling for the first time that day at the thought of her being awake.

Cole walked further into the home, he sighed deeply when he realized she must have kept the light on. Even though he knows she does this on purpose because she hates coming home to a dark house, and she never wants Cole to either despite it not bothering him.Somehow when he first saw the soft glow of the kitchen light he forgot this fact, and suddenly was slightly pouting that Y/N was in fact asleep. As he passes the family room on the way to the staircase that leads to upstairs and his bedroom he stops abruptly. Cole notices a lump on the couch and it makes him feel something warm in his chest at the idea of her falling asleep on the couch while waiting for him. Originally his plane was supposed to land at 11 at night, but something was wrong with the plane so they had to switch planes and he didn’t land in Montreal until closer to 3 AM. Cole slowly turned his body to come to the family room as quiet as possible, he debated with himself if he should just carry her to bed rather than wake her up. But ultimately he missed Y/N too much not to at least attempt to wake her despite knowing that was sort of selfish of him.

He squatted down and rested his weight on the balls of his feet, as rested his arm on the coach for support, the other going to pet her hair. “Baby imm home.” he softly spoke as his hand made it down to her bicep shaking her attempting to wake her up. “baby.” He spoke a little louder this time as he softly shook her again, he stopped when he watched the crinkle of her nose knowing she was at least not completely asleep anymore. She attempted to pull the blanket up and snuggle back into the coach further, and Cole couldn’t help but chuckle, his girl was probably the one person he knew who loved sleep more than anyone else he knew. “Sweet girl.” he spoke again, and his grin turned into a smile as she snapped her head towards his voice. “Do ya not wanna come to bed wit- me?” he asked.

“Cole?” she asked except due to the sleep in her voice, it came out more as coley rather than cole.

“Im home baby.” he answered her as she finally opened her eyes. “I’m sorry it’s so late but I needed to hear your voice so I woke you. “ he admits looking down suddenly being shy, and Y/N smiled at him, as she reached for him in a bone crushing hug pulling him from the floor and onto the coach.

“Missed ya-.” she mumbled into his neck as she's practically laying on top of him. Cole finds himself closing his eyes, getting lost in the smell of her conditioner that he hasn’t smelt in a week. Before Cole could respond that he missed her too, Y/N continued talking,“Especially when you dropped that thirst trap on your story.” she mumbled it still in that state of half asleep and half awake.

All Cole could do is smirk as he tried to crank his neck to look down to her. “Oh yeah.” The cockiness was clear in his voice. All Y/N could do was nod her head along, as he dragged his hands up and down her back, teasingly at the hem of the bottom of her shirt, Y/N lightly moaned as one hand slipped on the shirt and the other slipped down to her ass and kneaded it. Continuing to edge her on he teased her with his words “You missed me eh?”

“Hmm.” she mumbled, as she bit her lip softly as she felt Cole’s hands on her. “My fingers just aren't the same, Coley.” she admitted. It was obvious in her confession, that she didn’t realize what she had said as she tried to snuggle deeper into Cole’s side fully content with Cole’s soft touches loaring her back to sleep.But suddenly any tiredness that Cole had felt had vanished as all his mind could think of was Y/N being so horny while he was away that she had to rub one out. Not to mention that she only got horny because of a photoshoot he had to do for a brand deal over a month ago.While Y/N was practically back to sleep, all Cole could focus on was the image of Y/N moaning for him while she looked at a fucking picture from an Instagram post.

He was able to shift them so he was on top of them as he kissed her exposed neck, finally she was waking up fully at his words, his voice much deeper than before. “Oh yeah baby, you missed my cock.”

Y/N snapped her eyes open as Cole continued his attack on her neck, spending extra time on that one sensitive spot below her jaw, even nipping at it with his teeth gently. Y/N’s hands found Cole’s dark blonde curls, not sure if tugging on them was more to keep herself grounded or to hear those pretty little grunts that Cole makes. She tried saying his name but couldn’t finish as he started to kiss in the valley of her breasts as much as he could despite the button up silk pajama shirt. She arched her back, as Cole sucked on a sensitive spot on the top of her breast. Y/N found herself begging as she clutched her legs around Cole bringing him closer trying to get some relief.

“Ccole.” she gasped, hoping he would take pity on her. He slowly unbuttoned her silk pajama shirt, but still left it on. Cole took his tongue, looking up at her through his lashes as he dragged his tongue over her chest and under her boob, finally stopping by lightly sucking her left nipple. He took his hand and played with the other one, Y/N couldn’t make eye-contact and tried to throw her head back but Cole stopped as she did. Immediately she snapped her head back, eyes wide as she stared at Cole above her, his silver chain lightly dangling in front of her face. “Babe, please,” she whined, trying to show him how much she needed him.

Cole moved back further resting on his feet between her legs. He took his hand, lightly caressed his fingertips onto the soft skin of her stomach right above her waistband. She lightly pouted at him, her eyes silently begging to give her some relief. His fingers lightly slipped under her waistband but stayed her stomach, she whined in response. “You know what I think?” he asked her, knowing she wouldn’t be able to form words he continued. “I think, since you were so horny,” he raises his eyebrows and a soft smirk is on his lips as he continues. “While I was away that you didn’t even think to call me as you rubbed one out that maybe I should leave you like this.” he threatens.

“Na na no. please, please don’t.” she begs. “I only used my fingers cause you weren’t here.” she cries out as he slips his hand out from under her waistband and goes to tease the exposed skin on her inner thighs from her sleep shorts.

“Hmm.” he says. “Still I wanna see what it looks like when you’re so despite that you need to use your hand. Were you too horny to grab your vibrator?” he taunts, she mumbles a response but he can’t hear her, so he takes his thumb and puts pressure on her clit through her shorts. She cries out, as asks again “what was that baby?”

“It -” she gasps trying to answer him, despite how her legs starting to tighten she felt like she was seconds away from cumming but she knew it was just because of Cole’s edging her on that she felt like this. “It was ta- too far.” she gasped, hoping that was enough of an answer to please him.

He frowned his eyebrows in confusion, “but it’s kept in the nightstand.” Y/N glances at him wincing, watching as if a lightbulb goes off when he realizes. “Oh my lil’ slut, where were ya if you weren’t in bed?” he asks, a full blown smile on display as she feels her cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He bends down to her ear, as he rubs light circles on her hip bone, she can feel the heat from his mouth as he says “tell me baby. Where. Were. You.” As he sucks on that sensitive spot behind her ear she moans as a response.

“Here.” she practically yelps, louder than she needs to. “Here. I was here.” she repeats.

“Oh yeah now you definitely have to show me,” he says as he leans back smiling as she twitches beneath him.

“Cole.” she whines in embarrassment trying to take her hands and cover her face as she blushes at his words.

“Nope, you want my help you gotta show me what you looked like when you imagined I was fucking with you but all you had was your little fingers.” sounding as cocky as ever.

Y/N bites her lips and lets out a small whine as Cole leans back to rest on his heels again as he looks down at Y/N as shimmy out of her silk pajama shorts and underwear. He has a smirk on his face, as he watches Y/N use one hand to tease her boob and the other going on lightly touching her inner thighs. Cole can’t help himself from palming himself over his sweats as he watches Y/N arch her back and close her eyes as she continues to tease herself.

Cole grunts as he watches her hand that was teasing the sensitive skin on her thighs lightly touching her outer lips finally stopping at teasing her hole. Cole’s voice is deeper than normal when he asks “Fuck pretty girl is this what you were doing while I was away?” Y/N's only response is a little moan, as she opens her eyes just in time to watch Cole as he pushes his sweats and boxers down just enough to slip his hard cock out of his boxers. She can’t help but let out a little moan as she watches Cole spitting on his hand so he can lazily stroke his cock.

“Answer me, pretty girl.” he demands. “What were you thinking about as you fucked yourself with your fingers?”

“Ya- you,” she gasps. “It’s always you.” as she finally inserts two fingers, lightly pumping out of her center. Cole watches with hooded eyes as dark as the night sky, as she tries to reach with her thumb to rub little circles on her clit. But due to the angle that she is laying down on the coach she can’t and she just becomes frustrated with herself. Cole notices that she almost looks like she was in tears mad at herself for not being able to reach.

“Baby you can do it.” He encourages her and she whines begging him for help but all she’s met with is Cole shaking his head ‘no’. Finally, she somehow cramps her hand and lightly creases her clit teasingly, causing her to arch her back more and gasp from pleasure, as she feels herself being pushed even closer to a release. Removing her hand that was kneading her boob she starts to make small steady circles on her clit as she pumps her fingers at a faster pace out of her cunt. Cole has to stop himself from nutting right there as she cries his name as she cums, he talks her through her high. Cole even takes over rubbing her clit, when she can't because she’s too lost in the pleasure from her cuming. “There ya go baby.” he coos at her, as she’s trying to control her breathing again.

“I think that was the hottest thing you’ve ever fucking done.” he claims with a wide smile on his face. Y/N smiles up at Cole, a warm feeling spreading in her stomach at his compliment.

She looks down and notices his tip is still bright red and the vein looks a little more strained than normal, suddenly Y/N has a very deep sense overcome her as he wants nothing more than to lick the vein of his dick. Y/N slowly sits up shifting towards her boyfriend as she crawls off the coach and onto her knees, but before Cole can even question her. She is blinking up at him saying in a soft voice “I wanna a taste, please.” Her mouth is now dangerously close to the tip of his cock, blinking up at him with her eyes the size of saucers.

“fuck.” he whispers to one in particular. Cole slowly nods his head as a ‘yes.’ Y/N wastes no time in starting from the base of Cole’s dick and licking the she wanted, ending with his tip in her mouth. Cole grunts, one going to her hair, grabbing it tightly as he guides her in and out of his dick. The other tightening in a fist as he tries to grab onto something as if he needs it ground him. One of her hands is helping her balance on his thigh, leaving little half moons from her nails, her other hand going to play with his balls.

Cole wants to watch her as he fucks her face, he loves when she blinks up at him while he’s controlling the pace. But as she goes deeper and faster he grunts, throwing his head on the back of the coach in an attempt to make him last longer. “Fuck baby, I, I’m close.” he gasps, at his words she somehow even quickens the pace. “Can I make a painting, pretty girl?” he asks, which is his cheesy way of asking to cum on her face, he knows it’s always a yes for him but he still insists on asking every time because consent is important. As soon as his brian registers, she’s nodding your head, he pulls out and he cums immediately as he watches her close her eyes, tongue sticking out waiting for his load. Y/N closes her mouth and swallows immediately, opening her mouth again to show Y/N she swallowed.

Slowly he takes his thumb and collects some of his seed that was on her cheek and chin, dragging slowly towards her mouth. Cole has to bite his lip as she opens her mouth again welcoming his thumb and sucking hard, swallowing her tongue around his thumb as if it was nothing. He removes his thumb and she whimpers a little, as if she needs something of him in her at all times to keep her content. “Always such a good girl fa’ me.” he whispers, pulling her up to his level to kiss her. she crawls in his lap to deepen the kiss as his tongue slips into her mouth and she moans into the kiss.

Finally, both of them pull away, gasping for air. “I’m happy you’re home.” she mumbles, wrapping herself around him like a koala bear.

“Me too.” he answers her softly. “I’m happy to have a stretch of home games.” Y/N perks up, at his words softly lifting his head to get a better look at her.

“Oh yeah. Me too. I love having you home.” she shyly adds.

“Yeah I know cause I’m better than your fingers.” he chirps at her, laughing lightly.

“I take it back, you can go on another roadie.” Y/N pouts at him, finally getting up from his lap turning as if she’s heading for the stairs. But she doesn’t make it every far, as Cole pulls her back to him landing on his again.

He takes his hands and softly holds her face, making her look into his eyes so she knows he’s not lying when he says. “Hey I was kidding, baby. You know I hate being gone just as much as you do.” He dips his head to her ear, lightly kissing right under it, she gasps at the attention to her sensitive skin. “”Cause I can promise you, my hand isn’t as good as you are, baby. At his words she feels his cock lightly poking her upper thigh. “Let me make it up to you, show you how much I missed you.” he jokes, a big smile on his face as she blushes at his words.And in that moment Y/N knows it’s going to be a long night.

#cole caufield imagine #cole caufield x y/n #cole caufield fic #cole caufield smut #cole caufield x reader #montreal canadiens smut #montreal canadiens fanfic #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl smut #schwritingscc13

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