#FERALITY IS MY MIDDLE NAME
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https://www.instagram.com/p/C11dEjBLbMB/?igsh=NzN4dnFoZjNtcDAz
i'm gonna share this here cuz i've seen that remmy is shocked too 😭 (helloooo remmy) but thing is that they didn't specifically said that is was tae but everyone says that it's him and they also tagged celine so 👀
-✨
OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MY GOOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDDDD
I’m going to literally combust if we get blue tae back.
COMBUST.
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okay okay okay but possessive-protective Tsukishima in their third year over all friends, not just Yamaguchi anymore. He's too cool. He's aloof. He's a smartass. He hears a rival team talking shit about Hinata's height and goes the fuck OFF on them. Kids start mocking Kageyama and trying to rile him up for his past shit and Tsukishima appears like a wraith to tear them apart. Are Hinata and Kageyama capable of taking care of themselves? honestly, probably. Will that stop Tsukki from literally standing between them and whatever is threatening them? absolutely not. Tsukki doesn't spare kind words for them, he doesnt invite them over and he doesn't call them his friends but the first and and only time a new-to-town bully tries to flip up Yachi's skirt he turns around and punches him so hard he hits the ground. None of them had ever seen him use anything except for his wit and tongue to attack before but when asked about it he just scoffs and rolls his eyes at them and tells them to leave him alone. They all start to understand Yamaguchi a little bit better.
#its with complete conviction that I say tsukishima is an aggressively protective type#he learns that from his brother#let the bastard go a little feral in the name of people he absolutely doesnt consider his friends dont be stupid#Yamaguchi is just proudly watching from the side like “thats my boy”#he's been getting this treatment since middle school and has watched tsukki master his craft#haikyuu#haikyuu first years#karasuno first years#tsukishima kei#kageyama tobio#hinata shoyo#yachi hitoka
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Trying to transliterate Leara's name into Quenya, and it somehow becomes, uh,
Lëarra
Which basically means "You Sealion!"
And I'm just, "Oh yes, this is That Sealion Woman, and she can breathe fire, as all sealions do."
If Leara, for any reason at all, needed an actual Quenya or Sindarin name for any fun Elvish shenanigans, we'll just use Calairie/Calearil, which is "Light of the Sea" in Quenya and Sindarin, and what Leara actually means.
#I mean yes she uses vilya as her spy name but that's elrond's ring (ps elrond is my favorite i wanted you to know)#and elanor is her middle name and what she used in the blades but that's just a flower which yeah leara is big on roses#BUT ELANOR IS ALSO SAM'S DAUGHTER I CAN'T DO THAT#how did lin manuel miranda get on my likes playlist wth oh it's moana cool cool#anyway#coining a name like artanis felagund for a character has made me so twitchy that i have to do languages right now or not at all#ever look at aldmeris/altmeris and quenya and sindarin side by side and go 'huh there are a lot of crossover words what's up with that?'#BUT YOU KNOW IT'S BECAUSE TOLKIEN IS THE FATHER OF ELVISH AND ANY OTHER ELF LANGUAGE IS GOING TO BORROW#it's like uh oh he'd hate this comparison but it's like tolkien elvish is latin/greek and TES elvish is english#but yeah i brought maglor's name over into aldmeris so leara needed to be taken into quenya and sindarin#it's totally not because i'm still thinking of that hypothetical Skyrim/lotr leara/glorfindel fic#okay i am but it's even more pipedreamy than leara/astarion#keeping count is going to be 50+ chapters I am a COLLEGE STUDENT i am so tired please help me#I'm going to go make cookies in the air fryer now like an unhinged feral fey faerie child#which is what i am in case you were wondering which i note you WEREN'T#ahem#oc: leara roseblade#languages#mod post#BUT NO HOLD ON i don't know ANY D&D ELVISH WHATSOEVER but they told me astarion means little star and it's his childhood name#and i am like obviously because 'ion' means 'son of' in Sindarin and can easily become a diminutive suffix#i am dangerous around languages i can tell you where any cow is from just on the name alone its madness (is it? is it madness?)#okay now i'm done
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: MandJTV, Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pokemon Infinite Fusion Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Dr. Fuse/Nightsky, Dr. Fusinal Dayinite/Maelstrom Nightsky Characters: Dr. Fusinal Dayinite, Dr. Fuse, Team Nightsky - Character, Team Nightsky Leader Additional Tags: Middle Aged Yaoi, HEAVILY HEADCANONED, dr fuse and nightsky have a history, toxic yaoi but they're getting better, i am insane about them and i will write more about them, i do not abide by the fandom nicknames for the characters i am making my own :) Summary:
Maelstrom lays on his back, scowling lightly at some imperceptible spot on the ceiling, just to avoid eye contact. His hands are folded over his stomach, pretending to stay so calm and collected. This feeling is awful and alien, and something he had tried to drown out in favour of burning, blistering hatred.
Fusinal, meanwhile, is on his side, resting his head on his hand. His free hand carefully holds the side of Maelstrom's face that’s furthest away from him. His thumb gently, so gently, runs across the raised edges of the scar he made, studying it, the old scorched patches, branching paths where electricity ran through. He can remember it like it was just yesterday, and he doubts that his old flame has forgotten either.
~
Fusinal and Maelstrom have a complicated past. Allies, coworkers, lovers, hated enemies, strangers, lovers again. Some people might say that sharing a bed with the man who stole away most of your vision is a horrible idea, and it might be. Especially when Fusinal starts asking questions Maelstrom doesn't want to answer.
#mandjtv#team sky#team nightsky#dr fusinal dayinite#dr fuse#dayinightsky#helloooooooo mandjtv nation please enjoy my toxic middle aged yaoi#if anyone asks me questions about my headcanons i will happily go feral <3#dayinightsky ship name coined by me and my partner <3
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Honestly the one thing that really frustrates me about Hyrule Warriors is how they cut Linkle being Link's sister, because otherwise it would have recontextualized Warriors entirely as a character.
This is mainly just headcanon territory, but something always bugged me about him being a knight in training from the get go, mainly because it's usually never any Link's first choice with First, Sky and Wild being the main exceptions (Gaepora took him in, and Gaepora runs the knights academy, makes sense he'd want to join then plus he'd probably want to protect Sun, plus Skylofts knights function differently than Hyrule knights, they don't have the same hierarchy and Skyloft is pretty peaceful before SS truly picks up so again, makes sense he wouldn't have troubles joining, we don't know First's reasons besides him seeing evil on the horizon and deciding if no one's was gonna do anything about it he might as well do it himself, and Wild was basically recruited at a young age for pulling the Master Sword while presumably young, he was never given a choice), we see it with Four, he's a blacksmiths apprentice under his grandfather and we see in his manga him practically baring his teeth at his father he won't become a knight and he doesn't pick up the sword unless really necessary, we see that with Time, he was raised as a Kokiri, he dreamt of adventure already from the drawings we see in his room, but he could always just become an adventurer if he wanted to though of course we see that change with the Hero's Shade, I'll come back to that, Wind? Was content living in Outset with Aryll before Ganon decided to fuck around and found out really hard, Legend was also a blacksmiths apprentice and adventurer and he only takes up knight training in the manga because Sir Raven inspired him, like even if he didn't want to be a knight the training would still serve him well (and lo and behold the advice pays off given all the shenanigans mostly caused by divine beings Legend gets saddled with), Hyrule obviously leaves in a very hostile world so he wouldn't even have ANY time to think about knight training, he's self taught because he'd literally die if he wasn't given monsters need his blood to ressurect Ganon so it's honestly a unique case of technically self defense, either he learned to hunt or he'd remain hunted, Twilight is the same case as Wind's, Ganondorf fucked around and found out with the wrong older sibling's people plus the protagonists heavily implied love interest(s) and got shafted into next week, him and Dusk don't have a personal connection besides Midna for him to stick around much and we see him go back to Ordon, so no knighthood there, so why was Warriors different? What motivated him?
I think Linkle being his younger sister would have been the answer.
Long post ahead, continue under your own risk
I know lots of people characterize Warriors as being of a noble line and joined the knights at the urging of his father, but let's not forget most Links are orphans so thinking Wars is an exception is a pipe dream. So that's out, however, in medieval times knights actually get plenty of benefits since they work mostly for lords, ladies and the local crown, being a knight is synonymous with being a noble or at least having a decent life at the cost of serving someone else and the Hyrulean knights don't really have any requisites before joining (though we do see long lines of knights exist, which some Links are descended from without their knowledge, so it's not farfetched to think that a good chunk of the knights of Hyrule qualify as members of noble houses loyal to the Hyrulean crown, would also explain their why they're ineffective a lot of the time too, if most of them grew noble and Hyrulean isn't war seeking {most of the time} then they wouldn't have any real experience), it would be a good way for Warriors to support himself as he climbs up the ranks, and most importantly, someone else, because he'd need to make that money to feed Linkle if she's his younger sister because most Links who take on elder sibling roles are at their best when trying to protect their younger siblings (Wind with Aryll, Twilight with Collin, to an extent Legend and Gulley, all Links are at their best when fighting/protecting someone else), Linkle could grown up without restrictions and he could support them both, making them work harder than other knights because he's already at a disadvantage.
Making it so he's in the perfect place at the right time to get noticed by Artemis before the War of Ages, and give him a reason to go against orders and fight rather than standby like other traineés, being discovered as the Hero in the process.
And as a result since Mask is in the war too, he gets inspired by Warriors (who as an older brother would definitely just snatch him, Wind, Tetra and heck even the Skull Kid under his wing because no way is he letting children younger than even his own little sister fight alone) and eventually becomes a knight too after presumably stopping his search for Navi or using his knight status to search more effectively, which gives us the Time we see in LU who eventually become the Hero's Shade, which trains Twilight. Because he looked up to Warriors while younger.
I just think it's a huge missed opportunity with a lot of room for angst/hurt comfort/drama, and also opportunities for Warriors, Legend and Wild to bond over not really liking the knights because they've all not likely been treated well by his fellow knights while young even though he himself is one, and that Warriors would absolutely be one of the first to throw hands if he heard another soldier talk badly about any of the Links, in this essay I will-
#linked universe headcanons#lu warriors#been replaying Hyrule Warriors while sleep deprived and this suddenly came to me while mid drinking coffee#we really need more Warriors appreciation and big sibling Warriors around here#I Shall Not Tolerate Warriors Slander#Twilight and Time own my entire heart and soul but he's pretty neat#The inherent tragedy of unknowingly helping guide your younger sibling to roam aimlessly as a spirit until his descendant pacifies him#all because all you did was for your younger sibling and you tried so so hard to protect the boy who'd become the man behind the ghost#Feels like that'd be a punch to the gut for Warriors and Twilight both once the Realization™ hits#Linkle and Mask/Time and Wind both being little shit siblings to Warriors and bullying him into resting my beloveds#Artemis/Sheik joining in because meddler is her/their middle name#Legend Warriors Four and Wild both disliking the knights for a variety of reasons but only Warriors is passive aggressive about it#Until someone bad mouths one of his shield brothers that is then he's as feral as any Link#It's all about giving Warriors more depth ya know?#Summer's Sleep Deprived LU Ramblings
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I am once again begging online shop payment processing companies to allow me to enter a separate name for shipping and separate name for billing!!
It's the same address, I'm just trans and have not legally changed my personal name, but I still prefer to receive mail as my preferred name! Like it's literally my professional name, I do business as my preferred name.
Annoying as fuck, and I don't want to chance my bank rejecting the payment (though I'm sure someone at my bank has put a note to allow it on my account by now, since I've contacted them a couple times before when I realized too late that the billing section didn't let me input another "address/name" section, and they said the payment was fine in those cases.)
Anyway, legal name changes should be free and non-advertised for everyone. Tbh, you should get a free name change every time you file your taxes on time as an incentive for good citizen behaviour. Once I am elected pres-
#i think the one i just used didnt even have a separate billing address option which makes no sense#guess they dont want anyone giving any gifts making the buyer pay twice for shipping like that#maybe it was a fault of the mobile browser but i highly doubt it since many desktop sites look like mobile browsers these days#just so fucking frustrating. what if i lived somewhere where my legal name would out me? (im in the closet rn so doesnt matter)#i dont want to fucking see my legal name. im already forced to see it everywhere else.#i dont wanna ruin my mood on a day when im supposed to be getting a package which should be a happy thing yknow#vent#transphobia#speaking of like i would change my name but i dont want to and cant afford the fucking ridiculous price for it#and i dont wanna advertise it in a newspaper either! shits expensive as fuck on top of the hundreds to file the court paperwork!#i already tried to do it once with money in hand and the receptionist told me that even tho it was for gender identity i could not...#...avoid the newspaper thing unless i also changed my legal gender marker. and i had to back out bc i have reproductive health problems#i dont want a gender marker change to fuck with my getting healthcare#(i did change the gender letter on my ID card later tho which only took a signature on a paper no hassle with anything)#it really really fucking sucks how all these little things add up all the time#especially when im closeted while living w family who wont even use my preferred name#the real kicker is that. both my dad and his dad used preferred names. my dad used his middle name#and i use part of my middle name. yet my dad even in death still gets the dignity of being called his preferred name and i dont#sexism at its finest#reasons why i dont even hint at being trans around my moms side bc i already got bullied by them for wanting to use my middle name#ive literally been asking them to call me my mid name since i was 12. and theyve been acting like im trying to be someone else#its the same middle name on my birth certificate they gave me. i dont understand why they wouldnt want me to use it#but yeah i stay closeted bc i dont wanna deal with the name drama amplified exponentially for gender#prob get kicked out too cuz theyre queerphobic as fuck and i cant work rn and dont have a car#id have to just go full feral and live in the woods with the lizards where i belong#Cori.exe#Post.exe#fuck lol just looked it up and u cant change ur first name if u get married. i cant avoid the fucking fee man. let me be cori#literally why is it cheaper to get married than change ur first name! bullshit! marriage has so much more legal implications#transphobic queerphobic aromanticphobic privacyphobic poorphobic shit ass fucking state ive literally been cori most of my life ffs cmon
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Name hoarding my beloved
#5.15.24#even though there probably isnt a single unvierse where hoko isnt the primary thing im going by#its just fun to have some on da side#i also dont have to worry about sharing names with people either cuz ive never met someone else named hoko#honestly. id probably go feral if i met another hoko. MY NAME MINE#if youre wondering where it came from i named a worm species i made in middle school Hoko Doko(s)...#i just named everything i created silly stuff like dat so yeah#but i fucked with the name super hard so !#hehe. yaya#my text
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house md will always be remebered as the most insane thing ever broadcast because of how unabashedly feral everyone involved was.
a short collection of things that happen on the show, just off the top of my head, not even scratching the surface:
- house shoots a random dead body in the morgue and then sticks him in an mri machine, which pulls the bullet out of the dead guy’s head and destroys the machine, costing the hospital millions
- foreman gets bitten by a person with rabies
- chase kills an african dictator
- cameron steals drugs from a patient after possibly getting hiv from said patient
- house induces a migraine and then takes a drug made by his arch nemesis (who he’s been stalking for 25 years) to get the drug taken off the market. he then takes lsd (in the hospital, in the middle of a case) to cure the migraine.
- chase goes into anaphylaxis after doing body shots
- house stops an elevator so he can perform a cavity (vaginal) search on a teenage heart transplant patient who’s in cardiorespiratory arrest
- they give a neurosurgeon mushrooms to cure his food poisoning, then they stick him in an operating room. the neurosurgeon strips in front of a health board assessor.
- kutner dies for gay marriage
- house sets an autopsy room on fire while trying to juggle flaming bottles
- house gets recruited by the cia
- taub gets held at gun point after diagnosing a stripper with skin cancer
- in almost every single episode, the team breaks into multiple houses
- house fakes terminal brain cancer so he can get drugs implanted directly into the pleasure centre of his brain
- house cons us immigration to get his fake wife a green card. he also uses his fake wife’s ukrainian food truck to spy on people
- house tries to get wilson, his closet case boybestfriend, into bed every few episodes. every other sentence out of house’s mouth is about wanting to rail wilson.
- taub has a kid with his ex-wife, after they divorce, at the same time he has a kid with his 25 yo side piece. the kids’ names are sophie and sophia.
- house and wilson have a bet on who can hide a chicken in the hospital the longest without anyone finding out
- house tries to kill himself like 6 times and always fails (insulin shock, overdoses, electrocution, jumping off a building, cutting, etc)
- house fakes his death to get out of a prison sentence after violating his parole so he can live out his bi love story with his gay best friend who has 5 months to live
#if people think r/okbuddyvicodin is insane they should see the source material#hate crimes md#hilson#hugh laurie#rsl#robert sean leonard#house md#gregory house#james wilson#hugh laurie biggest hilson shipper fr#rsl biggest hilson hater#r/okbuddyvicodin#tw sui attempt#tw self h4rm#tw self harm#tw self harm mention#dead poets society#dps#yes robert sean leonard aka neil perry from dead poets society is the second main character in this show#starlightseraph’s brainrot
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Scent
Miguel O’Hara X f!reader
Summary: It was an intoxicating scent. And he knew it was yours. (In which Miguel goes feral when you ovulate)
Word count: 4k+
Warnings: Language. Obvs. S m u t. Obvs. Oral, f receiving. P in V (no protection), cum eating. Cheesy probs. Reader says Miguel's name a lot lmfao not beta read.
Minors DNI.
Honestly, I don’t know how any of this stuff works. This is some bullshit and none of it makes sense. Enjoy.
...
Miguel was fucking losing it.
He couldn’t focus, couldn’t keep his head on straight. There was a thick fog clouding his judgment, disorienting him like a fever he couldn’t sweat out.
It started with a scent.
Light at first, a barely there whiff of something.
It lingered at HQ, trailing between passageways and different conference rooms. There were times when it didn't linger at all for weeks. Then it'd start right up again, progressively getting worse.
It was an intoxicating scent. And he knew it was yours. How could it not be when you spent the most time with him?
It happened once a month for a week at most, and like clockwork, his body reacted viciously, betraying him of all logical thoughts. Your scent seized him by the throat in a sort of chokehold. Some days were unbearable, your scent so strong that he’d have to fight with every muscle and nerve in his body not to touch you, to not bend you over and—
Well. That wasn't a healthy thought.
Recently (the last two months to be exact), he’d have to excuse himself and step out of the room for a few minutes whenever you’d arrive from your world to report for duty, sneaking off to the restroom to tug on his cock till he felt some relief. Images of you would flash in his mind: you on your knees with your lips wrapped around him, or the pained face he'd imagine would twist your features when sinking down on his thick length. He'd come in his hand, sticky ropes of white, using his release to coat his stiff length and go again.
He never truly felt satiated. It was something to keep his appetite at bay. But once he’d come back and face you he’d get hard all over again, drugged out on whatever smell it was that emanated off of you.
He’d salivate like a dog and his bulge would grow uncomfortably large in his skin-tight suit. It got to the point where he couldn’t face you, and whenever you’d greet him he’d return it with a simple grunt, giving you a clear view of his broad, imposing back. He never looked at you anymore unless to sneak in a quick glance and even then, it’d make his cock twitch in desperation, the head weeping, begging to be touched.
He was fucking feral, like a Neanderthal, primitive and obsessed.
You smelled rich, mildly tangy—not like the fruity perfumes some of the spider ladies wore around him. No, it was something else entirely, something earthy, like what he imagined was between your delicate legs. Like wet cunt ready to be taken.
And God, did he want to take it.
…
"Miguel."
He tensed up at the sound of your voice, running a hand through his unruly dark hair. Maybe the cafeteria at HQ wasn’t the best hiding spot.
It was the middle of the month—July fifteenth to be exact—which meant you had that smell again.
You were ovulating.
He knew enough about female anatomy to put the pieces together when he realized that about two weeks after his body reacted to your scent, you'd be in a terrible mood.
"What crawled up your ass?" He'd asked you once, keeping his eyes on all his monitors but immediately noting your discomfort. You sat on a chair beside him, head in your arms as you leaned on the desk.
He could feel you glaring daggers at his profile.
"Shut up. I'm on my period, asshole."
He did shut up after that.
Blood immediately began to rush toward his cock, bringing it to life.
You stood in front of him, one hand on your hip while the other held a plastic container from the empanada joint everyone had a taste for.
"What?" Miguel uttered, keeping his eyes trained on a particular stain on the otherwise pristine white table. Any distraction was a welcomed distraction.
You pulled back the chair opposite of his, plopping down on it unceremoniously. The action sent waves of your aroma toward him like a crashing wave, engulfing him completely. He stiffened, dropping his head slightly while the heel of his hand pressed over his growing bulge.
"You gonna tell me what the fuck is going on?"
“I…don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said through gritted teeth, fangs visible when he grimaced. His scarlet eyes wandered over your face for a few seconds before he ripped them away, barely avoiding the twitch in your brow and the growing frown on your lips.
“Seriously?” You scoffed, “You’ve been avoiding me for, what, two months? I’m surprised I got a hold of you. You’re never in the cafeteria.” You ripped open the container, digging inside to grab the fried little snack. “Do we have a problem I’m not aware of?”
Miguel watched you take a bite of the empanada, committed to memory the way your tongue lapped at the grease coating your lips. His hand pressed harder over his cock, and at that moment he cursed himself for implementing the suit-only rule. He could really use a pair of sweatpants right now.
“Well? Do we?” You challenged him, defiant as always. You had this look in your eye that he’s seen before—your adrenaline was about to kick into overdrive. Always ready for a fight.
He sighed, shaking his head, willing himself to breathe. He felt sweat begin to bead across his hairline, strands of his hair sticking down the sides of his face. Your scent was becoming unbearable, overwhelming him to the point where he felt lightheaded. He licked his dry lips, carelessly running the tip of his tongue over his sharp canines only to pierce through the delicate muscle. The salty taste of iron exploded in his mouth and he grunted, pinching his eyes shut in frustration.
"Mig."
“No!” He finally barked, slamming a fist over the table. It shook from the weight of his large hand, the empty container almost flying off the surface. You went wide-eyed for a moment at his outburst before pressing the last bite of your snack between your lips, unfazed.
“It clearly doesn’t seem that way,” you replied calmly, but the twitch in your brow remained and your eyes narrowed. You wiped your mouth and fingers with a brown recyclable napkin meticulously, “if you have a problem, say so.”
One thing you had in common with Miguel was your bluntness. You always cut to the chase, saying what you needed to without much thought. It was one of the things that he appreciated in a fellow spider person but right now it only served to irritate him. That last thing he wanted was to deal with someone as fucking stubborn as him.
He must've looked like hell because when you regarded him, the hardness in your eyes softened immensely as if only just realizing his disheveled appearance. You went to touch his hand over the table but he snatched it away before you could, glaring.
"You don't look so good,” you reasoned quietly, stung by his actions, “d’you need some help?”
"M'fine."
"I don't think—"
"Listen to me very carefully," Miguel hissed, nose flaring and skin burning hot, "I need you to get away from me."
"What—"
"I'm not gonna tell you again," he seethed, cock struggling to break free from the constraints of his suit, "Go. Leave."
You were stunned into silence, tapping your fingers over the table awkwardly before grabbing your mess and leaving without another word.
Miguel watched you leave with a groan, dropping his head back in aggravation.
He was so fucked.
…
You hadn't shown up to HQ in a while. He couldn't blame you.
While that should've been a win for Miguel, it wasn't. Sure, the violent attacks on his body had diminished somewhat, but now, just because you weren’t around as much didn’t mean you didn’t leave his thoughts for a second.
He could've called you—had that stupid watch to contact you—see if you were okay. But his pride assaulted him every time he so much as glanced at his watch.
His thoughts circulated and continued, imagining you in all the positions he wanted to put you in, which landed him back in the restroom for a daily cock tug when he should’ve been working.
The spiderverse needed to be controlled and admittingly, you were one of the best on his team. You were stealthy and intelligent—he needed you more than he'd cared to admit.
And...he missed you.
But you were off fighting crime and restoring the peace in your universe—at least that was the excuse you'd given him, only showing face when it was absolutely necessary.
Which, as of late, wasn’t very necessary.
And still, he suffered.
...
Earth- 0708.
A shit show of a universe where the height of winter was in the middle of fucking August. It was snowing, small tufts of flurries lightly coating the ground in white.
Miguel knew exactly where to find you. Sunnyside, Lowery Street off the seven train. On the corner of a bodega by the broken lamp post. He could walk to your apartment complex blind if he really wanted to.
And there it was. He could smell you upon arriving—through the concrete and rusty red brick, up the five floors to your window—he could smell you. His hands shook (not from the cold) as his claws gripped the aging wall, his cock doing its usual swelling.
You must have sensed him immediately, slamming your bedroom window open and peering out into the darkness before he could even make it to your window. The cold wind blew and carried your scent. Mierda.
“Miguel?” You called out, squinting down at him as he scaled the dusty brick wall. When he finally came face to face with you, he lowered his mask, revealing his flushed face and sweat-slicked hair. He could see his breath come out in short, little puffs.
“You couldn’t use the front door like a normal person?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, crossing your arms.
“When were we ever normal people?” It was meant to come out smooth as butter but Miguel’s voice was hoarse, throat seemingly drier than the Sahara. He cleared it, stepping through the window, turning around to quickly slam it shut. He was concentrating, forcing himself to take a deep breath before turning around to face you, except, you were already gone, disappearing deeper into your apartment.
He grunted, rubbing his eyes. He thought he’d gotten better at controlling himself. The gentle breathing helped, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t struggling to keep his cock under control. It twitched a few times, and he groaned, exiting your bedroom. It was now or never.
You were in your tiny kitchen, stirring a cup of tea while the TV in the living room softly played some sitcom he remembered you were into. You were in a black hoodie and gray sweats, your hair messily thrown up in a ponytail. He’d seen you this way more than he could count. When did you become so pretty? Miguel didn’t understand it. You were under his nose this whole time, and he never really looked at you. Well, that was wrong. He did, of course, he did, but he never indulged. He was too much of a workaholic for that.
“What do you want?” You asked, monotoned, “I took care of all the bad guys so I know you're not here for that.” You propped your elbows on your kitchen counter, resting your chin in the palm of your hand as you peered up at him. You’d always told him he looked massive in your apartment as if his shoulders would cave the entire place in, and now, with you looking at him like that—all doe eyes and confusion—just a tiny thing, well…his cock twitched.
He swallowed thickly, jaw tense as he looked away from you to collect himself.
“I gotta ask you somethin'.” The words rushed out of his mouth, the flashing images on the TV seemingly more interesting to him than anything else.
“Shoot.”
“It’s… gonna sound weird, bare with me.”
“O…kay.”
Miguel turned away from you as he always did, hoping to curb his sweltering need to take you against your wall like a beast. “Are you ovulating?” It was quiet for a beat, and his heart flew into his throat in pure mortification.
“What?”
“You heard me, I’m not repeating it again.”
“Miguel, what the fuck—”
“Just—answer the Goddamn question, por favor.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, bowing his head in frustration. He felt hot, his body burning as if molten lava flowed through his veins. His tone must have done something because when he looked over his shoulder you were on your phone tapping a few buttons.
“...Yes,” you finally answered, bringing your gaze to meet his half-lidded eyes, “according to my app.”
“Mierda,” He groaned, dropping his head in his hands, “fuck. Okay.”
“You gonna tell me what’s going on, Miguel?”
“And you ovulate mid-month? Between the twelfth and sixteenth? No don’t—don’t look at me like that, please,” Miguel choked as he began to pace back and forth, ignoring the incredulous look on your face that was both humiliating and overwhelmingly arousing at the same time, “Just—just answer.” Another beat of silence engulfed you both as you searched the information through your period tracker with a shaky hand.
“Uhh, yeah, t-that’s right.” You placed your phone down on the counter, your tea now cold and long forgotten. “Mig…what’s with the questions? How d’you even know that?”
He finally paused his steps to run a hand through his hair before facing you from a safe distance, hoping you wouldn’t notice the growing erection burning hot between his legs from the angle he was in. If you noticed the large space between you both, you didn’t mention it.
“I haven’t been ignoring you,” you snorted at the comment, and again, he pinched the bridge of his nose, “I haven’t been ignoring you by choice, me entiendes?”
“So what is it then?” You took a couple of steps closer while he took a couple of steps back.
“It’s your scent—you smell so fucking good and it's driving fucking crazy, muñeca.”
“I-I don’t understand, Mig, what—”
“Look, I don’t understand it either,” he ran a hand through his locks again and again as if ready to rip the strands off, “all I know is you have a…scent when you ovulate every month…and, well…” he dropped both arms to his sides, standing there like an idiot as you stepped closer to drink him in. Your eyes traced him over, his broad shoulders and muscled arms, his thick thighs, and his engorged co—
“M-Miguel?” Your gaze was pinned to his bulge, pushing against the confines of his suit. “Why didn't you tell me anything?”
The question made him burn—made him bare his fangs and curl his hands into tight fists.
"What did you expect?” He spat, pacing again, “How was I gonna tell you some shit like this?" He licked his lips, his body feeling feverish. If he didn't leave soon he was sure to do something he'd regret.
“Miguel, come here.” He ignored you, much too irritated and embarrassed to do anything but just stand there. His jaw clicked, the bone shifting under the skin as he grinded his teeth in frustration. He could hear your footsteps padding softly behind him until you stood in front of him, craning your neck just to make eye contact.
It was unbearable being in your presence. He was going lightheaded again, the arousal almost blinding.
“Mig? D-did you need some help?” You whispered, your fingers ghosting over his chiseled abdomen, ready to trail lower but his large hand gripped you by the wrist, halting your movements.
“No.” He choked, “I’m not gonna force you to do something you don’t want to. Just came to tell you.”
“What if I want to?” You continued, lifting your free hand to press your warm palm over his heaving chest, “What if I told you I’ve wanted to do this for a long time?”
Miguel hissed as soon as you cupped his erection, gently rubbing your palm up and down the smooth surface of his bulge, hidden behind the silky fabric of his suit.
“Poor Miguel—all this suffering, all this grief, when all you needed was for me to relieve you,” you tutted, feeling how incredibly hard he was, “so I have a scent, huh?” Miguel groaned, his head lolling to the side as he watched your careful movements. The friction wasn’t enough, but it was more than he could have asked for in the last few months. His hand was nothing compared to yours. “What do I smell like then?”
“Like wet pussy,” he swallowed thickly, hands fighting the urge to grip you by the waist, “smells amazing, muñeca.” He hissed again when you gripped him firmly.
“Yeah?” You smiled, your eyes just as hooded as his, “And what do you want to do to me?”
A growl rumbled in his chest. Without saying another word, he pushed you back against the closest wall, caging you in his large arms.
“You have no idea the things I want to do to you.” He whispered, brushing the tip of his nose over yours. Your eyes fluttered, lips parting to take the tiniest breaths, chest heaving in arousal.
“Show me.” You breathed before Miguel kissed you. He curled around you, sealing you away from everything that wasn’t him. Your scent had his head buzzing, had him licking wildly into your mouth, his fangs grazing your skin more times than you could count.
He pawed at your hoodie, his claws sinking into the black fibers of the fabric. “Do you care about this?” He said between kisses, skimming the delicate skin underneath.
“It was an ex-boyfriend’s.” You yelped when Miguel tore into the hoodie immediately, ripping apart the seams with ease. You weren't wearing a t-shirt underneath, leaving you bare above the waist.
“Not important then.” He muttered, tossing the thick shreds of fabric aside in favor of touching your bare skin. He noted your eyes, how blown your pupils were at his actions. You were cold, nipples pebbling and goosebumps forming over your arms. Miguel cooed, his thumbs reaching out to rub the sensitive nubs on your chest, tugging them between his fingers. Your head fell back against the wall, a mewl escaping you.
“Miguel,” you moaned, arching your body into his skillful hands. He brought you flushed against him, pressing his face into your neck and licking a stripe up to your ear.
“¿Qué pasó, hermosa? I barely touched you,” Miguel chuckled, lifting you up in his arms with ease and walking to your bedroom. He threw you on your bed, and within seconds, your sweats were pulled down with your panties, hastily tossed to the side.
He observed you like a beast on the hunt, eyes trained on your glistening cunt. There it was, the source of his misfortunes for all those months, weeping and swollen with arousal, just waiting to be fucked. His mouth watered, watching you slowly swirl your fingers between your folds, coating two digits with your slick before presenting them to him.
“Wanna taste?”
He saw how your juices clung to your fingers like glossy webs when you wiggled them toward him. He kneeled in front of you, gripping your wrist in his hand and lapping at your essence, plunging your fingers into his mouth. He moaned in relief as if tasting you was the cure to every issue he'd encountered.
You gasped, mouth slightly ajar as you watched him. It was so obscene how this man took pleasure from your taste alone, coating your fingers entirely in his spit. You whined, the sensation of his tongue causing your cunt to flutter, desperate to be filled.
“Miguel,” you whined, “get rid of the suit.” He chuckled over your fingers, letting you feel the tip of his fang over the soft pads before releasing them with a gentle pop. He stood to his full height, dwarfing you, glowing in that suit of his. Slowly, the tech that held his suit together scurried down the length of his body like falling stars until he was completely nude. His cock sprung forward, finally released from its prison, standing large and proud.
“Oh my god,” Miguel heard you mutter, saw how your eyes were trained on the angry red tip, shining with precome. His chest puffed with pride. You licked your lips, mind already set on the task you'd given yourself. You moaned, desperate for a taste of him.
He didn't give you much time to react, surging forward to place a hand around your delicate throat, putting the slightest bit of pressure before pushing you down flat.
"Next time. I need to taste you." His eyes were glowing, burning red in the dim lighting of your bedroom. He knelt again, grabbing your hips firmly and pulling you roughly toward the edge of the bed before devouring your cunt like a starved man.
"Shit," you cried, hands immediately tugging on his hair as you threw your head back, "M-Miguel." He was insatiable, tongue swirling around your clit several times before lapping at your soaked folds, moaning at the tangy taste.
"Que rico," he muttered to himself, the vibrations of his voice over your cunt causing you to cry out. He continued his assault, dipping his tongue into your hole, a testament of what was to come. Then, without warning, he plunged his middle finger inside, immediately hitting something that made you see stars. You choked and heaved, pulling at his hair as he fucked you with his thick finger while sucking on your clit.
"Fuuuck, Miguel, I-I think I'm—" you threw your head back, eyes rolling as you came, gushing all over Miguel's mouth and hand. You trembled, almost sobbing when he hadn't let up, feasting on your juices as his finger continued to thrust into you.
"M-Miguel, I can't," you whined, your hands fighting to lift his head away from your aching cunt, but he ignored you, too drunk on your taste to stop. He carefully added a second finger, easily finding a rhythm to thrust into you. The stretch had you gasping for air, thighs trembling on either side of his head. If two fingers were too much for you then his cock would surely be a challenge.
Miguel's eyes were closed, tongue hungrily lapping at the wetness you produced, and within seconds had you falling apart with a wicked moan. Your cunt squeezed his two fingers when you came again, coating his hand and chin with your slick. You sobbed, begging him to stop, and he did, placing a wet kiss on each of your inner thighs before carefully pulling his fingers out.
"Look at me, hermosa." You hiccupped, craning your neck to look at Miguel with blurry eyes. He already had his red gaze pinned on you, and when he had your attention he placed his cum coated fingers into his mouth, humming in approval at the taste.
You were mesmerized, not even fucked by his cock yet but somehow already drunk on the anticipation. You whimpered, watching him lap up the last of your juices on his fingers.
"M-miguel?"
"You taste so fucking good," he growled with a shake of his head, pushing his face into your pulsating cunt one more time to breathe in your intoxicating scent. His hot breath over your pussy made your toes curl, sighing in contentment when he placed a quick kiss on your swollen clit.
Miguel climbed on the bed, caging your hips with his muscular thighs. His cock slid against your folds, your slick already lubricating him. You were still shaking, your hands now finding purchase on his biceps.
"¿Estás bien, amor?" He asked, leaning down to pepper kisses over your tear stained face. He was getting sappy, he knew. He couldn't help it, not with the way you came so pretty for him.
"Mhm," you sighed, letting him arrange your trembling legs over his hips, his cock pressing more firmly into your aching wet core.
"Good." He spit on his hand and ran it over his stiff shaft a few times before pushing your thighs up so that your knees touched your shoulders, effectively folding you in half. He lined up the head, ready to push in, but stopped when he heard you whimper.
"It's been a while, Miguel," you explained with wet eyes, "I haven't...in a while a-and you're so big—"
"It's okay, I know you can take me, hm?" Miguel brushed a few damp strands away from your sweaty face. He leaned down to kiss you, and he knew you could taste yourself on his lips. It made his cock twitch over you, and with no further delay he notched the head of his cock into your hole, slowly pushing in.
You moaned, eyebrows knitting at the stretch of him. He panted, pushing inch by devastating inch, all the while watching your face for any signs. You were falling apart, eyes screwed shut and nails digging into the meat of his arms.
"I can't," you choked, your hips fighting against the offending pain, but Miguel was quick in securing you in place, continuing to spear you with his cock, "M-Miguel, y-your too big, it's too much!"
"Shhh, hermosa, si puedes," Miguel closed his eyes for a moment, relishing in the way your cunt fluttered over him, fighting to take him in, "look how good you're doing for me, mm, así mismo."
He pushed deeper, swallowing your cries with a kiss as he bottomed out, his balls pressing nicely against your ass.
"¿Ves? " He cooed, bumping his nose against yours as you whimpered, "I told you, you could do it." He chuckled at your glare, kissing you again before thrusting experimentally into you.
You moaned, tossing your head back, exposing your throat. You felt full to the brim, completely stuffed. Miguel wasted no time surging forward to lick and nip at your neck as he moved above. Each thrust shook your bed, the springs of your mattress coming to life as Miguel fucked you deeper. Your pussy was drenched, soaking his cock as he glided in and out of you effortlessly. The stretch burned but it was delicious, and Miguel knew you were cock drunk when your mouth fell open, tears running down your cheeks.
"¿Así te gusta, hermosa?" Miguel moaned, his breath fanning over your skin as he pounded deeply into you. His cock reached something within you that had a sob ripping from your throat.
"Oh my God," you whined, feeling the constant slap, slap, slap of his balls against your ass, "Fuuuck."
"That's the spot?" He heaved, his fangs glistening with saliva, "That's where you want it?" He continued his relentless pace, hitting that spot with precision over and over again. The sounds of your squelching pussy made him feral, slamming into you until you screamed, watching you fall apart before his eyes.
You came hard, gushing all over his cock, vision blurry and head in the clouds. Miguel helped you ride your high until you were nothing more than a quivering mess below him, sobbing as he continued to thrust before emptying his load inside you.
He grunted, head tossed back as he pressed his hips tightly against you, filling you up with everything he had.
"Fuck," he groaned, pausing to give himself a moment to breathe before slowly fucking his cum into you. It was too much, leaking out of your hole and over his cock, soaking into the sheets below. "Even better than I imagined." He muttered, shifting to pepper kisses all over your face again. You sighed in content, feeling comfortable in the way his cock was still nestled in you.
"¿Estás bien, muñeca?" Miguel asked, dropping his forehead against yours. He still had you folded in half, his large arms on either side of you. You nodded with a sigh, turning your head to place a chaste kiss on the inside of his wrist.
"Good," he grinned, gently snapping his hips against your ass, letting more of his spend leak from your hole, "cuz I'm not done with you yet."
#spiderverse#spiderman across the spiderverse#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara fanfiction
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can i ask for the yan!roommate's reaction to the reader finding the camera in the bathroom and purposefully jacking off in front of it?
just found out about this blog and i am already hyped we need more subby yans in the world
Yandere roommate imagines (sub Yandere oc) ~!
A/N so the Yandere is just a random Oc you can imagine it as whoever I just needed a name for the fic! And you’re totally right there aren’t nearly enough sub Yandere as I’d like <33
Imagine you just got home from the gyms and all you wanna do is get into your shower you don’t have many other thoughts in your brain, you would have used the shower at the game but you have a “problem”~ between your legs and you knew you had to get home.
Imagine, you’re stripping your clothes cutting the hot water on as the mirror begins to fog up, your cock pressing to your stomach with precum oozing from the slit as you step in the shower running your fingers through your hair letting out a quiet grunt. You notice something from the corner of your eye when you’re looking up at the shower head, confused you reach for it picking it up you realize it’s a camera.
Imagine you already know who put the camera there I mean how could you not? There was only one man you knew creepy enough to wanna watch you shower and that was you’re roommate, and you know you felt a little generous you thought since you were already hard why not give him a show.
Imagine you sit the camera on a bath shelf and start speaking “I know you’re watching me Lucas” you grin as you bend down a little making sure your face was in full view as you use one hand to run down giving your pec a firm squeeze before gripping at your shaft giving one long stroke. On the other end of the camera Lucas sat in his room in the shared apartment nearly going feral when he sees your hand on your cock.
Imagine his face all red laying originally across his bed he soon gets up hurriedly trapping his laptop making sure the door was locked as he shakily grips the device for dear life feeling himself already aroused by the sight of you touching yourself, wanting nothing more than for your cock to be stuffed inside him as he rubs himself up against his matress letting out a few whines of desperation.
Imagine your hand holding your cock pointed straight at the camera giving him the perfect shot of your veins pulsing beneath your fingers while you bite at your bottom lip “didn’t know u had a total creep of a roommate, Lucas?~” you coo hazily standing in the shower the water running down your body down past your thighs with a few heaves meanwhile Lucas on the other hand wasn’t nearly as calm.
Imagine his hands fumbling with his zipper sitting the laptop on his bed as he pulls his boxers down placing the laptop on his pillows in front of his face as he drools, two fingers shoved between his lips with him laying on his stomach removing his fingers with them all coated in spit as he presses them to his rim pressing one finger in moving it in sync with your hand imagining it was your cock inside him as adrenaline fills his head making his body numb to the pleasure only becoming more infatuated with you each second as he murmurs out “y-es~” over and over.
Imagine when you cum you make sure your cock head is pointed directly at the camera lens, wanting him to see your red, angry looking tip when you climax. Your body tensing up intentionally not letting him see the face you make when you orgasm, only attempting to further tease your roommate with what he can’t seem to fully grasp hold of, which is you. “Hope you enjoyed my little show Lucas”
Imagine when Lucas sees that he’s in a whole other world of need, if he was feral before it was like he was a rabbit in the middle of heat because he pulled his hands away from himself with a little gasp while getting up not even bothering to turn his computer off, pouncing on you as soon as you make it to your bedroom with his brain all fuzzy and fast from your menacing taunts pulling your towel off.
Imagine your night ending with your roommate on top of you his thighs straddling you with his hands gripping your shoulders tightly mewling his lips all parted wide and his eyes half lidded and rolled back glossed over while he erratically lifts himself over and over again riding you harshly even when he feels like his rim is on fire from being stretched so long, you give his ass cheek a slap punching the ref handprint grumbling in his ear “this was what you wanted right?” As you hold his hip tightly grounding yourself deeper inside him pressing to his prostate roughly “then take it Lucas”
#x male reader#x male reader smut#yandere cw#male yandere x male reader#yandere original character#yandere oneshot#yandere oc#sub yandere#bottom yandere#male yandere#bottom male yandere#yandere x reader#yandere character#yandere mlm#mlm yandere#x top reader#x top male reader#x dom male reader#x dom reader#dom reader#top reader#Yandere#yandere x male reader#yandere obsession#mlm ns/fw#gay mlm#dark content x male reader#dark content#tw dark content#sleep-0-deprived
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Twin
Max Verstappen x Norris!Reader
summary: Lando's twin catches the attention of a driver, a certain Dutch one
Masterlist / TipJar
ynnorris
liked by landonorris, yourbsf, and 3,454 others
ynnorris Celebrating the end of undergraduate life with the looming threat of PhD life over me. Why me?
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landonorris because you hate yourself? because you don't want to leave school?
ynnorris say that to my face punk landonorris you know where to find me user1 are they related or ? user2 they are twins, she's studying something to do with sport at university
yourbsf i see the more incriminating photos did not make it
ynnorris excuse me, i have an image to upholds yourbsf hmmmm? landonorris hmmmmm? user3 I live for these sibling interactions
maxverstappen
liked by landonorris, ynnorris, and 1,346,893 others
maxverstappen Nice summer break, now back to work for the second half of the season. Let's go!
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redbullracing Back to racing soon, champ!
landonorris Few things before the start of the season but yea
maxverstappen I know just ignoring it landonorris Don't you dare you're coming user4 What's going on here? user5 Spill user6 Probably a summer hangout user7 Omg where our invite
user8 no one mentioning y/n norris in the likes
landonorris WHERE!? user9 help why is he so protective
ynnorris
liked by landonorris, yourbsf, maxverstappen and 2,975 others
ynnorris the duality of a london uni student
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yourbsf girl we look fire, when your brother hosting another party?
ynnorris not for a while landonorris with the way you behaved, never ynnorris but i was on my best behaviour landonorris hmmm? yourbsf hmmmmm? ynnorris rude kids
user10 max verstappen hiding in the likes....
user11 do you think they are dating? user12 OMg how cute would they be landonorris don't put that into the universe ynnorris omg get out of my comments twin, you have a life
maxverstappen
liked by ynnorris, landonorris, charlesleclerc and 1,547,289 others
maxverstappen Back in the car, Ready to go to Spa. Belgium I'm coming...
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user13 lets go max!
user14 y/n norris back here..
christianhorner lets bring the pace to Spa, Max
user15 are we just collectively ignoring the middle photo
user16 i'm not, im feral user15 i bet thats from landos party user16 he had a party user15 yeah i follow his twin, she mentioned it user14 omg did he meet the queen y/n!?
f1wagnews
liked by yourbsf and 974 others
f1wagnews Technially Y/N Norris is not a wag, however I can't neglect. As Lando Norris twin sister she has amassed a social following, and she is a unbothered icon. She is now a PhD student at King's College London in Sport Science. Smart Queen! Small rumors have been floating about her dating Max Verstappen but they are just that. For now?
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user17 can't the girl just live her life without everyone speculating something due to her likes. She likes all of Lewis Hamilton's posts but no "rumors" there
yourbsf @.ynnorris Umm girl? This you?
user18 how cute would she and max be
user19 Isn't she too young for him user18 No shes only 24 user19 how do you know that? user18 Landos twin? Same age? Thats common sense i fear
ynnorris
liked by yourbsf, landonorris, maxverstappen and 3,529 others
ynnorris nothing beats good company in life
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yourbsf I don't have this photo, i thought friends shared
yourbsf nvm wait scrolled, whose hand is that yourbsf OMG is he the guy who ? ynnorris yes. yes he is
user20 WHO WHAT?
landonorris Y/N. I want his name
ynnorris oh hi there Lando, my dear brother, wasn't expecting to see you here landonorris answer. your. texts. ynnnorris sorry my phone is dead user21 Lando is gagged
user22 im starting to feel those max verstappen rumors
user23 max we see you lurking in the likes liked by maxverstappen user22 wha. did he just.
maxverstappen
liked by redbullracing, ynnorris, landonorris, and 2,000,357 others
maxverstappen Qualifying today, nerves are building but I got a new charm let's see if its lucky
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redbullracing We hope it's lucky too
f1wagnews time to diving and hunting and researching
landonorris Maxy got a girl. And I don't. I'm not asking for tips however
user24 like Lando Norris needs girl help landonorris do you see a girlfriend? maxverstappen I'll arrange a intervention liked by ynnorris charlesleclerc can i help? landonorris PLEase
user25 Lando Norris subtling avoiding the truth that that may be a photo of his sister
landonorris beacuse its not yourbsf yeah.... user26 totally.... landonorris @.ynnorris HELLLO liked by ynnorris
ynnorris
liked by landonorris, yourbsf, maxverstappen, and 4,302 others
ynnorris Belgium, my second love, thank you for the weather and the racing. Delaying my acknowledgement that I'm still in uni (working hard no doubt)
Oh, and my man xx
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yourbsf its offical?
ynnorris offically secret still but yes yourbsf when can i meet him ynnorris sooooon
landonorris we are having a discussion young lady
ynnorris im older landonorris by 2 mins, young lady is a state of mind landonorris we need to talk user27 someones in troublee.... liked by ynnorris
f1wagnews
liked by yourbsf, ynnorris, and 4,234 others
f1wagnews Okay hear me out, Max Verstappen is dating the icon and queen Y/N Norris. Timeline? Of course. They met at Lando's summer break party and have been together since then. She went to the Belgium Grand Prix to support her brother but also, her man. I so hope I'm right.
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user28 I mean, you could be wrong
yourbsf @.ynnorris
ynnorris Damn yourbsf Plan of action?
user29 That makes so much sense omg, and how cute are they
user30 SO CUTE
ynnorris
liked by yourbsf, landonorris, max verstappen and 3,299 others
ynnorris getting through a PhD with help from a PHD
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yourbsf photo creds where?
ynnorris my best friend ladies and gentlemen yourbsf also did NOT need that mental image landonorris preach
landonorris When am I meeting this casa nova
yourbsf I thought you already had landonorris who? who? ynnorris why? GIRL
user31 Whats a PHD?
user32 One is a doctoral degree, the other is a pretty huge, um, appendenge user31 Oh, lucky girl! liked by maxverstappen
f1wagnews Am I the only one seeing "Maxim" on the jacket. MAX.... Verstappen? maybe?
liked by ynnorris user33 CONFORMATION?!
maxverstappen
liked by ynnorrris, landonorris, and 206,386 others
maxverstappen my lucky charm, my liefje, my Y/N
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ynnorris my darling, hard launch? before me?
maxverstappen I got sick of waiting, you’re too beautiful ynnorris I love you, tell me how
landonorris MAX WHEN YOU CATCH THESE HANDS
maxverstappen Lando do you perhaps wanna take this off social media landonorris WHEN you CATCH ynnorris run liked by maxverstappen
user34 OMG they are cute
f1wagnews I WAs RigHT, they are
user35 Max is too good for her, she just wants his money let's be realistic here. She is a broke uni student
maxverstappen She is more than that. She is the love of my life landonorris Gag, but he's got a point liked by maxverstappen and ynnorris user36 Pop off Maxy!
ynnorris
liked by yourbsf, landonorris, maxverstappen and 4,203 others
ynnorris Cats out of the bag. To my Max, thank you for everything. I love you with my whole heart and I can't wait to watch you win races and life.
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landonorris Gag. Ew. My sister ladies and gentlemen.
ynnorris you love me really landonorris thats up for debate
maxverstappen Am I asleep in that photo?
ynnorris But you're so cute landonorris Take it off socials ewwwww ynnorris no, you leave liked by maxverstappen
user37 They are adorable!
user38 No, my idol is taken noooo
ynnorris I'm sorryyyyy maxverstappen why you sorry? ynnorris shushhhhh go to sleep
yourbsf im so happy for you babes, don't forget your work tho
ynnorris nope, im totally working hard yourbsf girl ynnorris seriously, I am
f1wagnews
liked by ynnorris, yourbsf and 3,205 others
f1wagnews Y/N Norris was seen at the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix celebrating with her partner Max Verstappen as he won another World Championship.
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user39 My parents!
ynnorris My Dutch winner
f1wagnews Omg hello liked by ynnorris
(a/n okay im back, my loves! I have missed this. I will be writing at my own pace but I have many ideas and I will be working my way through them)
(taglist: @yawn-zi )
#social media au#social au#max verstappen#max verstappen social media au#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen x reader#f1 x reader#f1#max verstappen x norris!reader#f1 driver fanfic#max verstappen smau
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𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
genre: explicit smut, minors dni, childhood bestfriends to lovers, tlou'verse, jackson era, mild hurt/comfort
word count: 4.9k
summary: When your boyfriend is desperate to win back what he lost, he bets on you this time without your knowledge. And everyone knows you don't go back on your word when it comes to Joel Miller.
warnings: okay so technically not cheating because your boyfriend literally gambled you buuut if that's not your thing I totally get it, piv, dirty talk, choking, spitting, size kink, soft!joel & feral!joel, he likes hearing how big he is, affectionate whore calling™, a hint of analplay, oral (receiving and giving)
a/n: another joel fic inspired by p.orn, we love to see it
a special thank you to @nothoughtsjustmeds for the beta! 💕
Joel was never that into gambling.
Back before everything had gone to shit, that had always been more Tommy’s forte than his own. Joel doesn’t remember the amount of times he’d had to bail his brother out, either by protecting him while putting himself in the middle or by giving him loans he’d never ever see again. Joel hadn’t minded. Tommy was his baby brother after all. As long as he was safe Joel was happy—annoyed, for sure, but happy.
He was surprised when he learned that Jackson had a pretty heavy gambling scene and that Tommy wasn’t a part of it. He didn’t know why that was, because even on the nights where he had to go bail him out and bring him home all bloodied and bruised, Tommy just made the same mistakes. Not even Sarah’s worried expression, while she peered from between the wooden stair railing, deterred him from it.
Guess it was different when your own kid was on the way.
However, despite his lack of interest in gambling, he found himself betting away what little he had for someone else—someone he thought he would never see again. But honestly, he wasn’t half bad at it so he didn’t mind it that much. His only complaint was when he had to get messy hunting down those who didn’t pay up.
One by one the men around the table folded, only leaving Joel and Liam. A huge stack of weaponry lies in the middle of the table, Liam’s eyes constantly flit between the stack and Joel. They stare at each other long and hard. Joel knows that he’s going to win. He usually did with these face-offs.
Liam folds.
A small smile tugs at the corner of Joel’s lips. There’s nothing better than to take what someone he absolutely detests wants.
“Let’s go again,” Liam grunts, his forehead shining with sweat.
Joel raises an eyebrow, “You don’t have anythin’ else to bet on.”
“Come on now, Miller,” Liam leans back into his chair. “There must be something that you want.”
Joel’s eyes bore into his long enough for the man to grow uncomfortable and nervous. Only then did he speak.
“You still have that pretty girlfriend?”
Someone Joel didn’t bother learning the name of pipes up from his right, “I thought we were only betting huntin’ supplies this time.”
“Come on, let the man try to win his rifle back.” Joel grins.
“Fuck you, Miller.”
“Careful now,” he slowly places his elbows on the old table, his weight on it enough to let out a threatening creak. He cocks his head to the side, his smile small but still there. “My kindness wears thin.”
Liam’s an addict. And of course, he says yes.
“You fucking gambled me away?!” your voice is shaking, body trembling all over as you pace back and forth in front of the couch Liam was nestled on top of. At least he has the decency to look guilty. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Liam? I’m your girlfriend, not some kind of deer hide you can put on the table.”
“Look I said I was sorry alright?” He stands up fast enough to make you flinch. He holds you by the shoulders, thumbs moving in a soothing manner. “Won’t happen again, I promise.”
You scoff, “We both know that’s a lie.” You lift your chin up in defiance. “I won’t do it. I have free will. You can’t make me.”
That makes Liam sweat. You can’t blame him, you’ve heard of Joel’s. . . outbursts. But honestly, that’s the least of your worries. You’re mostly confused as to why Joel asked for you specifically. You’re positive that he’d been avoiding you ever since he came into Jackson, only talking to you a handful of times. Why now? And why like this?
“Baby,” Liam whines, snapping you away from your thoughts. “You have to. He’s crazy, he’ll kill me.”
“You should’ve thought of that before.”
“Please. All you’d have to do is entertain him for the night, make him happy.”
“So to be his plaything? Is that what you want?”
“Maybe he’ll ask you to cook him dinner, hell if I know.”
“Sure,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure he’ll just want something to eat.”
You give him one more look before slipping away from his gentle hold. Your heartbeat is slow, hours spreading across every beat, making your chest feel heavy and lightheaded.
“Fine,” you cave, wrapping yourself with your shaking arms. “But after this, I’m done, Liam. I’m so tired of bailing you out.”
“You can’t leave, where would you go?”
The soft tone he used while begging you to spread your legs for Joel quickly turns into a tone with sharp, dagger-like edges. You don’t say anything. Don’t answer him or agree with him. You’re lost in a broken world.
And now, amongst all the things you’ve been through, you have to see the pity in your childhood best friend’s eyes.
You don’t want to be here. You don’t. It’s embarrassing.
Your boyfriend is in the other room, brooding on his couch, examining his life choices. You’re not doing any better. Your robe loose over your shoulders, the chill of the bedroom settling over your skin. It’s especially embarrassing because it’s Joel for crying out loud. You’ve known each other since you were kids causing mischief all around the neighborhood. You still remember the time you fell and scraped your knee, how he kissed it better and placed a pink bandaid over it because it was your favorite color.
Why the hell had he asked for you? To humiliate you? Well, he definitely succeeded.
The door opens and you jolt. His presence is large in the room, making you shudder despite yourself. Your pulse quickens. You shouldn’t be afraid of him yet here you are, trembling like a newborn doe. He closes the door with a gentle click, the wood creaking and solidifying your fate.
You haven’t known him for years. Even before the outbreak had torn the world apart. You had moved away two years prior and after everything went down you never expected to see him again. When he showed up in Jackson you barely recognized him. He looked rugged, more salt than pepper in his beard, his eyes drained of life. He had scars that ran deep and he had found a kid along the way. You were surprised but relieved to see he still had a big heart.
You were ashamed the first time you two sat down after years. Everyone knew of Liam’s gambling problem, he couldn’t help it, and you knew that Joel knew. You hated the idea of him pitying you, of him seeing the world weighing down on you. You’ve heard from around that Joel also started to place bets. Nothing too big though, unlike your boyfriend who would bet on almost anything in the house. You knew those bets could turn out violent and people feared Joel. Even in a safe utopia like Jackson, the kind of man he’d become traveled from ear to ear, striking fear. And when someone that owed him money ended up with a bloody nose and broken jaw. . . no one dared to deny him of anything.
And it seemed like you were no exception.
Joel stands in front of you, his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, exposing sinewy muscle. He stands close. Close enough that you feel his breath on your lips. Your eyelids flutter before you avert them, tears stinging the corners.
You drop the robe, the old fabric pooling at your ankles. You’re left in a decent enough-looking bra and somewhat matching underwear.
“Not interested,” Your entire body goes taut, eyes wide. You hear the blood rush in your ears. Joel moves past you and takes a seat on the bed, crossing his arms over the expanse of his broad chest. You stare at him and a thick knot forms in your throat. He gives you a brief look before explaining. “I only wanted to teach your boyfriend a lesson. He’s reckless. One of these days he’s gonna be in real debt to me and, darlin’, I don’t want you gettin’ caught in the middle.”
Your heart drops. You don’t know what you’ve been expecting but it certainly isn’t this. Tears blurring your vision, you quickly bend over and scoop up your robe, throwing it over your shoulders. Somewhere along memory lane, you forgot to remind yourself that Joel was your first; first crush, first love, first kiss, first time. But it just hadn’t worked out. You had stayed close friends until you moved away, he had Sarah, you had a promising career. You were planning on getting back to him. It just never came to be. Liam didn’t know you knew Joel, only Tommy knew about the connection you two had, mainly because he was there.
And now you had Liam—Boyfriend who calls you names because he hates everything, Liam. Shitty boyfriend, Liam. Boyfriend who put you up as a prize, Liam.
It’s just too much. All of it. Your heart can’t handle how unfair it all is. The pity Joel shows you, the way Liam treats you. He loves you, you know that much, but he just doesn’t care enough to treat you right or tend to you when he’s so broken himself. He doesn’t understand that you would take care of him just as much.
And now you’re just a shell. A shell of your former self.
The first salty tear slips from your lashes, it’s followed by another and then another.
You manage to reach the end of the bed on shaky legs, collapsing, you cover your face, heaving silently into your palms. You don’t want Liam to hear you cry, deep down you want him to think Joel is fucking you this very instant. You want him to feel guilt, or at least a sliver of the way you feel.
There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder. Your brain doesn’t even register that Joel is pulling you into his chest, wrapping solid arms around your shaking frame. He holds the back of your neck, squeezing tenderly just like he did when your mom yelled at you and he wanted to calm you down.
“Why are you cryin’?” he mumbles. “I told you I’m not gonna do anythin’ to you. Or to him. I just wanted him to think before he put you in any danger. What if it wasn’t me there? Not everyone is as they seem in this town.”
After all this time Joel Miller is still looking out for you.
“It’s not that,” you answer, between sniffled and muffled hiccups. “I’m embarrassed and so fucking tired. I don’t want you thinking I’m some damsel in distress, even though me crying isn’t really helping,” you take a deep breath and peel yourself unwillingly from his chest. “I don’t feel good about myself. I never do with him. I just feel like shit with some more shit thrown over. And well. . . now I know that you don’t want me either. It’s just too much. But I’ll be okay, thank you for looking out after me even though I’m a mess.”
He suddenly grips your chin and pulls you close enough that your noses almost touch, “What the hell makes you think that I don’t want you?”
“You. . .” with a sigh, you look away. “You didn’t want to fuck me.”
“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”
Squeezing your chin, he forces your gaze back to him. His lips are parted, pupils wide enough to hide the chocolate brown of his eyes. He seems just as surprised as you feel. Arousal pools between your legs, heat dripping down the curve of your spine. You press your thighs together and swallow.
Joel’s hand moves up to your cheek and cups it gently, thumb toying with the corner of your lip, “I just never thought you’d be interested if I’m bein’ honest. Especially not after. . . everything I’ve done.”
“You’ve done what you’ve had to do to survive,” you kiss the curve of his palm and he shifts, coming even closer. “I always wanted to come back to you, you know? You’re my first love, Joel Miller. Deep down I always wanted you to be the last.”
Joel was never an emotional guy. He always had trouble expressing what he thought and felt, thinking he always had to hide behind large invisible walls. The outbreak had put a magnifying glass over that quality of his. You can only tell that your words affected him by how the crease between his brows softens and his cheeks gain a subtle red hue.
He only grunts as he forcefully brings your hand to his crotch, his cock hard and throbbing under your palm. His lips skim down your neck, kissing where your pulse beats frantically. Joel grinds into your palm, “You still want to fuck with your boyfriend waiting in the living room?”
“God, yes.”
You stand up and he parts his legs for you, allowing you to take your rightful place between them. Looking up, his fingers dance up your shoulders, pushing off the robe so it once again pools at your feet. The fabric of your bra has worn away with time, meaning that your nipples meet no resistance as they stiffen under his gaze. Joel licks his lips and brings both thumbs to the peaks, rubbing them until they’re fully hard.
Then he suddenly shoves you closer to him, your aching nipple met with his wanting mouth. He sucks through the fabric. Saliva darkens the color. He sucks and moans each individual nipple until both are hard like diamonds and only then do you find yourself on the bed, his mouth still on you, starving for more. Your back forms the perfect arch, the sheets feeling like silk against your skin despite them being years old—almost rotten.
He drags his lips down your body, rough facial hair tickling your skin, your hips helplessly stutters into the air. Two large hands pin your hips down. You can’t help the noises that tumble from your lips. For the first time, you’re feeling whole. He lays soft kisses against your inner thighs and finally, he reaches where you want him most.
Joel sucks your clit through the fabric and your body jerks, seeking the heat of his mouth against your bare cunt instead. He smiles, digging his blunt nails into your flesh.
“Patience,” he licks a stripe down your clothed folds. “I want you to be loud, sweetheart. Make noise for me. If you want me to fuck you, that’s my price—your sounds.”
Liam never liked the sounds you made. Unless you were mimicking porn and whispering how close you were, which was a very rare occasion.
Joel slides his hands up to the softness of your stomach, squeezing gently. Like you might fade away at any given second. He kisses the lips of your pussy and his eyes flutter closed.
“Doesn’t it feel good,” he begins, his southern drawl more prominent as his voice grows deeper. “To have that prick in the next room listenin’ to me fuck you, riddled with guilt because he bet on his pretty girlfriend?”
It does feel good. “You think I’m pretty?”
“‘Course I do,” his brows furrow, eyes finding yours. “Prettiest girl I’ve known since the first day my dick got hard.”
The words send a tingle up your spine but Joel doesn’t allow you to linger on them for long. He slides your underwear to the side. The fabric sticky with slick, he immediately presses his lips deep into your cunt, tongue swirling around your entrance and teasing it by pushing in the tip. You cry out and grip his head, your legs pressing against his ears. Your heart hammers within the confinements of your ribcage.
“Gonna ruin you,” he groans, licking himself deeper and rutting the bed. Your eyes roll back, your body melting with every fat stroke of his tongue.
Joel takes you apart slowly. His jaw moves, head lazily going from left to right. You feel so wet, soaked, from both his mouth and your slick. It’s almost like he goes slower the more soaked you are. He draws various shapes around your throbbing clit. You're left withering under him, shaking, begging, and moaning his name loud enough that the entirety of Jackson could probably hear. The wet smack of his mouth is followed by loud slurps and groans, and your stomach coils tight.
After all these years, Joel Miller had certainly learned a few new tricks. He wasn’t that same teenager anymore, though, neither were you. He feels different, yet he also feels the same. Like a familiar wind stroking your skin.
“So damn wet and sweet like honey, fuck.”
He moves away and you nearly cry out of frustration, fingers burrowing into the old sheets. You only move when you hear the deafening sound of a belt buckle coming loose. Joel’s pants drop to his ankles, cock painfully hard and slightly curving to the side. Your mouth waters, “No underwear?”
“Got too lazy to wash’em last Sunday,” he lazily strokes himself. Today is Tuesday. He’s been going commando all this time. More saliva fills your mouth, you don’t know why but the thought excites you and he seems to notice. “You always did get turned on by the weirdest things,” he mutters. “Now get on your knees, sweetheart. Been waitin’ a long time to feel those lips again.”
You pout, “Forearms are sexy, ask anyone.”
Joel sighs and shakes his head, his dark gaze makes you clench around nothing. He ignores your comment entirely. “Don’t make me say it again.”
You sink to your knees immediately after that.
He’s so much thicker than you remember. The bulbous head a beautiful shade of red, shiny beads of precome gathered at the slit. You notice the vein meandering down the underside of his cock and you trace it with the tip of your tongue. The blood pumps harder in response, his length twitches and smears the shiny pearls against your cheek.
You moan as you finally take him between your lips. The corners of your mouth sting from how wide you need to open to accommodate him. You manage to take him half way in, swirling your tongue, you hollow out your cheeks.
“That’s it—That’s it, fuck—suck me harder, sweetheart, please—” his hips rock forward, his cock filling your mouth until the head is hitting the back of your throat. You choke on him and his head falls at the way your throat constricts around the width of him. He then pulls out, prompting you to look up. His hair is a mess, lips swollen and parted. “Use your spit, need you to wet my cock good if you want me to fit darlin’. I ain’t that teenager anymore.”
You kiss the soft crease between his balls, rolling them with your tongue. You’re delighted to witness how he shudders at the soft caress of your lips, “I can see that.”
“Get on with it then.”
Joel sounds almost annoyed—no, not annoyed, but eager, desperate—to have your mouth wrapped around him with Liam in the other room. You don’t want to make him wait so you slowly allow a thin line of saliva to drip from between your lips. His thighs tense when it touches the head of his cock.
“Is his dick as big as mine?” he asks, jaw locked, words bouncing off of clenched teeth.
“No,” you gasp, dragging your lips down the length of him while staring at him through heavy lashes. “No, it’s not as big as yours.”
Suddenly you’re lifted to your feet, your body nothing but a ragdoll as he pushes you to the bed, the old mattress creaking with protest at the added weight.
“Play with that fuckin’ pussy for me, I want to see it.” He wraps a hand around his weeping cock, his strokes hard and calculated. Your breasts tingle as you push a hand between your thighs, he clicks his tongue in disapproval, approaching the end of the bed. “Spread your legs wide, honey.”
As soon as you open your legs and spread your folds for him to see how soaked you are, he’s quick to climb up the bed. Turning you to your side, he gets right behind you. Joel wets his own fingers, sucking on them with a loud groan before replacing yours with his own. He rubs your clit with precise movements, each stroke hitting the mark and making you see bright, dazzling stars. Your body moves on its own. Heat pools between your legs, your hips grinding back to feel the heft of him on your ass.
“Joel, please,” you whimper. “Please, fuck me, please—”
His lips touch your cheek and he breathes heavily, his chest heaving and rattling with every exhale. You feel the head of his cock slowly sinking into you, stretching you wide as his lips decorate your sweaty skin with fleeting kisses.
“You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well, honey,” your eyes roll back, a mild pain blossoming from where you two connect. He brushes his fingers over your clit, the sharp pleasure shortening your breath. “That’s it. That’s my girl takin’ my big cock so well. So good. So good for me.”
Your jaw drops as you take him inch by inch. He continuously plays with your clit, kissing you and whispering words of praise while his tongue plays with your earlobe. You feel like mush. Like dough that only he can mold. Your lashes grow wet with tears, your heart beating so wild that you swear he can hear it as well. Joel slightly pulls back his hips and pushes back in, your breath catches in your throat, and soon enough he begins fucking you with shallow thrusts.
“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he mutters into your ear. You nod helplessly, your body burning from the inside out. “Tell me, louder, come on,” a smack echoes in the small room, and pain blossoms over your ass cheek. “Come on, louder.”
“Yes!” you cry out. In a weak attempt to meet his thrusts, you roll your hips. “Yes, this is what I wanted. I’ve never stopped thinking about it—never stopped thinking about you.”
“Is this pussy mine?”
“Yes, it’s fucking yours.”
Your voice must’ve come out too much like a whisper because Joel’s pace quickens. He fucks you hard, deep, hammering into you until you’re struggling for air. He wraps thick fingers around your neck, squeezing until there’s pressure building under your eyes, your lungs burning.
He loosens his grip around your throat, “I wanna hear it, come on now, don’t make me beg for it. Tell me, is it mine?”
“Yours! It’s fucking yours!”
Suddenly Joel is underneath you and you’re on top, his hips relentless as he snaps his hips up into you. It feels even better now. The way his cock massages your walls shooting crackles of electricity up your spine. He holds your ass with both hands and spreads you for his liking.
You moan his name and when you look down, seeing him staring at your face, a sudden gush of embarrassment overwhelms you and with a small whimper, you cover his eyes with both your hands. Joel grits his teeth at that. He fucks you harder, the vicious way he presses inside making you gasp and drop your hands so you can brace yourself by flattening your palms over his chest. His eyes flash with anger.
“Why the fuck—” he growls, “would you cover my eyes?”
“I–I got embarrassed—” you squeeze your eyes shut and open them back again. You push down your hips, taking him to the hilt as a form of apology, but he doesn’t seem to accept it and holds you still. Your head falls back with his every thrust.
“If you ever pull that stunt again, I’ll take you over my knee,” he rasps, ignoring the way your pussy clenches at his words.
His finger teases your asshole and beads of sweat gather at your tailbone. Joel’s grin is dangerous, something you’d run away from rather than run towards. But you can’t help it. A wanton moan rattles your throat, your pussy clenching hard around his cock. He presses forward, burying his finger down to the first knuckle. You shudder over and over, your body building tension and releasing it simultaneously.
“You like that, wildflower?” he groans, thrusting his finger in and out while snapping his hips up. “You enjoy it when I play with your tight little asshole?”
“Fuck, fuck—Joel—yes, yes I do.”
His other hand snakes around the back of your neck and yanks you down. His damp lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck this hole one day, pretty thing. . . gonna fuck it so hard you’re not gonna be able to stand for weeks.”
Before you can catch your breath, you’re being hauled towards the closed door, the emptiness you feel sudden and cold. He pulls your hips up, presses your cheek against the barely standing wood. Your hard nipples graze against the surface, a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine. Again, Joel thrusts forward, filling you to the brim. The mild pain tingles within your lower abdomen and you melt against him, eyes rolling back as you wiggle your ass for him.
With every rock of his hips, your body hits the door with a thud and you’re sure Liam can hear every forceful fuck, “Tell him how fuckin’ bigger I am than him—I wanna fuckin’ hear, it come on.”
“He’s so much bigger than you!” you groan, bracing your palm against the door. “You hear me, Liam? Never had a bigger cock in my life, I’m soaked.”
Liam’s muffled voice follows through, “Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is wrong with you? You fucking whore!”
You know it shouldn’t, but his words still jar you.
“I’ll fuckin’ break his hands for that, don’t you worry darlin’,” Joel mutters into your skin, his words marking you as something untouchable. “And I’ll make it fuckin’ hurt.” He then kisses your shoulder and shouts towards the door, slamming especially hard this time so the thud of you hitting the door echoes. “You’re the one who gambled her like some kind of prize you dickhead. Don’t blame her for feelin’ good about it!”
“You could never satisfy me,” you say barely above a whisper, like you’re not entirely sure you’re allowed to feel good about this. About finally having him all to yourself.
“That’s it, tell him,” Joel growls, pushing his cock even deeper. You swear that if you looked down at your stomach, you’d see a bulge, as impossible as that sounds. “Tell him.”
You desperately grab at Joel’s forearms, feeling the sinewy muscle tense. Your slick drips down his length and wets the inside of your thighs. With a loud moan you repeat your words and it feels delightful.
You only smile when you hear the outer door close shut. Liam is gone.
“Yes yes yes,” Joel murmurs into your neck, ramming into you harder. “That’s it, come on my cock, sweetheart, please—I wanna feel it—”
Your breath catches in your throat, body seizing, “B—Bed,” you manage to choke out.
If he pulled out, you’re not aware. His body is a constant presence against your back, lips always latched on to a patch of skin, tasting the salt. Joel lays you down gently and pushes your legs high enough that it grazes your forehead with every desperate snap of his hips.
“Is this what you want?” he groans, the wet noises of him fucking into the tight fist of your cunt bouncing off the walls.
“Yes, Joel— this is what I want.”
“My whore,” he leans over and grinds into you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, sucks on your tongue. The back of your thighs ache with protest but you whimper into the kiss anyway. Breaking the kiss, Joel breathes into you, “My good sweet little whore,” and another kiss.
Your eyes roll back, “So deep,” you groan, breaking the kiss.
“Deeper deeper deeper,” Joel mocks you by mimicking your dazed tone with his drawl. He slowly pushes in, holding himself there, he halts your breath. “How’s that, wildflower? Deep enough for you?”
“Oh god, Joel—” you choke. You fist the sheets, your cunt fluttering and throbbing. He doesn’t move, he flexes his cock and the pressure of that is enough to break you.
Joel wasn’t expecting it, this much your muddled brain is able to realize from the shocked groan he lets out. His lips find purchase on your forehead, kissing and mumbling praise as your entire body clenches and releases, your pussy gushing around him. You feel the trickles of fresh wetness ripping out of you and all you can do is take it when Joel resumes his thrusts, fucking you through your messy orgasm.
Despite your insistent begging of wanting him to come inside, Joel pulls out, coming undone instantly as he does so. He rubs himself over your mound, thick ropes of come spurting across your stomach and even the underside of your right breast. He releases your legs and they fall limply to his sides.
Joel kisses you long and deep, his weight comforting above your trembling body. When he finally pulls away, he lets out a low chuckle and brushes your noses together.
“I think he left, sweetheart.”
“Good,” you mumble and press a quick kiss to his flushed lips. “All I want is you.”
Liam’s not your boyfriend anymore.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfic#tlou fanfic#the last of us fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal character fanfiction
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Hahahahahaha I’m a territorial little gremlin😘
Overdrive ft. (Law, Sanji, Zoro, Kid, Nami)
Pairing: Multi-character pairings ft. Law x Reader, Sanji x Reader, Zoro x Reader, Kid x Reader, Nami x Reader WC: 1.2k Summary: Things that drive the OP characters wild. CW: 18+ MDNI Suggestive but no smut, teasing, mild not very descriptive violence in Kid's, food and eating mention in Sanji's, swearing, reader is described with breasts, no beta. AN: I've gotten way sicker and I feel like a small sickly victorian child, hoping that the country air will help my ailment. D:
Trafalgar D. Water Law
"Let me whisper in your ear, tell you something you might like to hear"
It’s been hours since Law decided to hole up in his office, sinking all his attention into a thick medical textbook. He’s halfway through a page when he feels a pair of soft warm lips press onto his neck. Instantly he feels his body erupt into gooseflesh.
His breath catches in his throat when he feels your warm hands make their way across his sides, lifting his shirt, before caressing his bare chest. Your lips work their way up his neck, stamping his skin with searing hot kisses, the slight smacking noise sending tingles down the base of his spine. As you grow closer to his ear, Law can hear your soft breathing, the sound going straight to his groin. Law stifles a moan that threatens to escape his lips as your feverish tongue makes contact with his ear lobe, slowly trailing its way up the shell of his ear. The obscene wet noises near his ear sends static through his brain, down his spine, and straight to his cock which continues to grow hard at your teasing. “How about you take a break?” you whisper before pinching his left nipple with one of your roaming hands, the other finding its way down his happy trail. Law quickly realizes he has no choice but to oblige.
Vinsmoke Sanji
"With the taste of a poison paradise, I'm addicted to you"
For the last few weeks, dinner has proven to be a difficult time for Sanji. It isn’t because he’s hit a creative slump with recipes or because he has to fight off a hungry Luffy from sneaking snacks. His troubles all stem from a certain other crew member – you. Sanji’s grip on his cutlery tightens as you let out a practically pornographic moan the moment a bite of his Poulet a la Provencal hits your tongue. You let out a few more obscene noises as you chew. Sanji swears the room is spinning. “Sanji~ this tastes divine, the chicken is so moist! And this sauce is just orgasmic~” you sigh out before dipping your finger in said sauce. Sanji nearly drops his fork as he watches your pink tongue dart out to lick off some of the sauce from the digit before you suckle it clean. Sanji thickly swallows at the sight, “A-ah thank you for the compliment y/n-swan!”. You let out a giggle before returning your attention back to your plate. Sanji is suddenly aware of how hot the room is and how tight his pants feel. Sanji tries to compose himself, taking a few deep breaths before returning to his own plate in front of him. He gets a few bites in before he nearly chokes on a piece of chicken when he feels a roaming foot caressing his inner thigh, he looks up only to catch your seductive gaze, a teasing smile plastered on your lips. Dinner would be another torturous affair.
Roronoa Zoro
"Girl you look so good, won't you back that ass up?"
Zoro loses count of his reps for the third time this workout. It’s been this way for the last few months. He would start his workouts with the full intent of giving everything he had, only for his eyes to wander, watching as the sweat traces a path down your body. Today was no different. His eyes graze over the curves of your butt as you work on your squats in front of him. Your muscles shake in effort as you let out several loud breaths. The entire thing turns Zoro on, his grey sweatpants no longer doing a good job at hiding his erection. He watches for a few more moments, carefully palming his length over his sweatpants. That’s when he sees you stutter a little bit in your last set. His body moves instinctively, stepping closer to you, your body only a few inches from pressing into his as he hovers his arms near the barbell bar. “Here, let me spot you” Zoro grumbles out. You give him a nod, adjusting your stance and grip. Zoro dutifully watches as you go in for another squat, only for your tight ass to brush Zoro’s erection as you went down and came back up. The pressure causes a filthy moan to rip out of Zoro’s mouth. In his embarrassment he can see you look back at him, a knowing smirk on your face. He had fallen right into your trap.
Eustass Kid
"She's hatin' 'cause I'm up and you can tell on her face"
Kid sits sprawled out in a booth with Killer on his right. His crew sits around him, everyone occupying nearby tables with a plethora of drinks flowing between them. He’s only half paying attention to Killer before their conversation is interrupted by a woman sliding up on his left side. He doesn’t bother to pay her any attention as she presses her hand to his chest and whispers in his ear asking if he would like some company. He waits patiently, secretly growing excited for what was to come. That’s when he hears you slam two mugs of beer on the table, liquid sloshing out everywhere. You were back from your run to the bartender. “Get the fuck off of my man you fucking whore!” you snarl out as you reach for the woman, grabbing her by the hair as you rip her off of Kid. There it was. Kid feels the first rush of blood to his cock as the atmosphere becomes fueled by adrenaline. The woman screams obscenities at you, flailing helplessly, while the crew eggs you on by yelling out vulgar encouragement. The whole scene turns him on, and he soon finds himself rock hard as he watches you throw the woman out the bar door. Your face is thunderous as you stomp back, gnashing out the crudest angry words at the woman’s gall. You don’t skip a beat as you down whatever was left in both the beer mugs before sliding into your rightful spot next to him, smashing your lips into his in a forceful hungry kiss. Fuck, Kid loved when you got possessive.
Nami
"I'm the First Lady of Juicy Couture, got a little cash now so the skirt is Dior"
Nami’s smile hasn’t left her face since she ushered you into the women’s dormitory, her arms overflowing with her latest clothing haul. “Y/n-chan~ you have to try these on! I picked them out just for you!” she says, pushing the bags into your arms. She relishes in the way heat takes over your cheeks as your eyes widen at the amount of shopping bags, clearly flattered at Nami's generous gesture. Despite your bashful look, you don’t say no to Nami’s demands, quickly stepping behind the changing screen in the corner of the room. Nami’s eyes trace over your shadowed figure behind the screen as you peel off every bit of your clothing, heat rushes to her core. “N-Nami? A-are you sure you handed me the right bag?” you ask, your voice full of anxiety. Nami is patient, flooding you with words of encouragement. She’s rewarded when you step out from the screen. Your body barely covered by the most vulgar bikini money could buy. Nami’s eyes greedily soak up the sight of your breasts, spilling out over the small triangle top, your hard nipples barely covered. You’re so cute as you fidget in the bikini, your face red in embarrassment. “D-does it look g-good Nami?” “Hmm it looks okay, but I bet it looks better on the floor.” One outfit down, 26 more to go.
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Hii you’re deadpool and wolverine fic are awesome!! I’ve been reading your work for awhile and every time i read your work it’s just WOW but i was wondering if you can write another deadpool and wolverine fic? Just watched the movie and they make me BARK
😓 IM TIRED of everyone watching the movie but me. Don’t get me started on twitter and how everyone’s tweaking over my man hugh 😣.
DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE X MALE READER
⚠️Warnings- fluff, angst, smut— no spoilers included, all three of you are switches, edging, blood, death mentioned at the end and more.⚠️
— Both men laying on beside you on your left and right. Wade will be jerking off your cock whispering dirty jokes into your ear while Logan will be fingering your hole while breathing deep grunts and soft encouraging praises.
— The two would be mid argument, ready to be at each others throats while your literally getting face fucked by Logan and Wade will be behind you fucking you.
— Wade and you roleplaying, you’ll play as him as Deadpool wearing his suit and mask and all while he’s wearing Logan’s suit. He’ll be moaning “Wolverine” and “Logan.” While occasionally the slip of your actual name causing you two to giggle and break character.
— Logan walking in seeing you and Wade trying out new kinks like lingeries or more kinky shit like bdsm.
— If it’s Logan’s turn to bottom Wade will be teasing and cracking jokes the whole time taunting him to get him riled up.
— Logan and Wade sharing your cum in their mouths. After they’re done sharing your cock they’ll start to passionately makeout.
— Wade recording or taking pictures during sex. Even using a Polaroid on special occasions and he has some of his favorite pictures in his wallet.
— Logan will be fucking you relentlessly for hours to blow off his anger and stress.
— While they’ll be sharing your cock, their tongues will sometimes move against one another before sharing a kiss and back to sucking your cock.
— Watching the two have the most bloodiest sex ever watching them hit and hurt each other just for their body to regenerate.
— Wade will be like a dog in heat always humping and grinding his ass into you or Logan’s crotch.
— You going back and forth on their cocks sucking and deepthroating them Logan pulling and tugging on your hair while Wade is praising and making jokes.
— Logan walking in seeing you and Wade wearing dresses while your fucking him. Wade’s legs will be in the air speared apart while he is also wearing heels.
— Wade being very open on wanting to take you and Logan’s cock in the same time. He’s the one who’s trying to convince you two do it to him.
— You and Wade being in love with Wade’s scent.
— You and Logan shotgunning the smoke from the cigar while when Wade wants to try he lowkey starts dying coughing hard and shit.
— Whenever you are fucking either one of them the other one would start kissing or making out with you trying to distract you from the other.
— Logan having cum leak out from his used hole while Wade laid on the side of him getting fucked by you two. You’ll be taking turns using them like your own personal fleshlights.
— You and Wade watching Logan scratch onto things like the bed or sheets.
— Wade and Logan edging you together while they argue. They’ll be jerking off your cock and stuff and you’ll be whimpering and moaning the whole time until you actually cum all over their hands and yourself.
— You being in the middle as they both cuddle and hug you from the side. Occasionally Wade or Logan will take your place from being in the middle.
— Wade will be the one to distract either you or Logan with praises and jokes while the either of you would be cleaning.
— Seeing you fuck Wade so merciless and rough before eventually fucking him next, makes Logan go feral and insane.
(A few bits of angst now.)
— They both will outlive you. Though Logan isn’t immortal his lifespan is still greatly longer than yours.
— Both of them watching you die, and either cannot accept the fact that they can’t help or stop it from happening.
— Logan’s and Wade’s relationship weakens a whole lot after your death. They’ll be arguing even more and blaming one another for your death.
— Logan accidentally not retracting his claws and them stabbing through your stomach slowly, and very painfully killing you.
— Wade trying to use laughter and humor as an way to cope trying to mask that he’s okay but Logan sees right through it.
— Both men blaming themselves for your death.
— When all three of you break up it really damaged all three of you. Logan and Wade will be doing his best to move on.
— Your death really reminds the two of them that nothing last forever.
THE END
#x male reader#male reader#male reader insert#x male y/n#x reader#amab reader#x top male reader#x gn reader#x dom male reader#x dom reader#x bottom male reader#x bottom reader#wolverine x male reader#wolverine x reader#logan howlett x male reader#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett#wolverine#deadpool x male reader#deadpool x reader#wade wilson x male reader#wade wilson x reader#wade wilson#marvel x male reader#x men#X men x male Reader#X men x Reader#deadpool x wolverine#the bear club
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don’t call my name
don't call my name - skinshape
warnings: roommate trope, pervy carmy, like this man needs to get a grip, sexual tension & sexual innuendo, yearning as always, nudity and some steaminess, alcohol (its one drink), some dirty touches and lots of teasing + dirty talking lol, future smut (freaky), no use of y/n or you
wc: 8.6k
a/n: new 3-PART SERIES!! hiiii i’m sorry i’ve been awol for so long but s3 has sent me into a feral frenzy and thats what motivates me to write for carmy <3 he kind of pissed me off this season but i’m horny for him anyways so enjoy!! (from the same horny silly mind as “about a girl”)
series masterlist
playlist (updates with each chapter)
fucking inflation.
carmen berzatto would rather die than try and find a roommate.
with chicago’s residential rent quadrupling, he found it increasingly stressful balancing monthly apartment payments with the nonstop financial demand of owning a restaurant.
if it wasn’t fixing the walk in fridge, it was fixing the gas line that had a leak. not to mention staffing, fancy dishware, food cost, utilities. the bear was a big up and coming success in the community, but he was damned if it didn’t take a lot of money to keep a restaurant running.
it wouldn’t have been so stressful all on its own, either, not if his new fuckhead landlord didn’t send all the tenants a yellow slip informing them of the $2500 monthly increase in rent.
the place was nice—he recently made a decision that was long deliberated, moveing from his small, admittedly humble apartment complex to a “luxury unit”.
he found it to be quite an adjustment. It was newer, and much nicer than what carmy was used to. the place was fully furnished and had two-levels connected by floating stairs, as well as tall windows that reached the ceiling and illuminated the space with natural light.
it was a gorgeous place, but the sudden increase in rent did nothing more than fuel the disdain that he had accumulated for landlords over the years.
so, came to terms with the fact that he would have to either deal with the hassle of moving out, cut into the restaurant’s budgeting, or the dreaded third option. finding a roommate.
the stress plagued his mind all night as he tried to sleep, tossing and turning over his pillow.
someone to share a small space with, quarrel over messes with, debate over rent share with. not to mention he had grown accustomed to small freedoms like cooking in the middle of the night or walking around naked.
there was also the fact that he had been lonely recently, succumbing to sexual frustrations that reminded him all too well of being a teenager again. it had crept up on him slowly, the urge to hold another person again. to be touched by someone else.
he had been so worked up, he was being plagued by wet dreams. it was like being back in middle school for the man. finding himself waking up face down in the bed, clutching a pillow he had drooled on with a throbbing erection in his boxers. finding himself rutting his hips against the mattress to try and alleviate some of the pressure that had built up in his body. a thin sheen of sweat covered him as he felt increasingly hot. maybe he would want to bring someone home in the near future, and how would that work with a roommate? what a fucking nightmare.
he bit into the pillow and let out a soft groan as he continued to slowly rock his hips against the mattress.
he slid his hand down, fingers tucking into his boxers and wrapping around his erection. the dream had felt so real while he was asleep, recalling soft skin beneath his fingertips, recalling himself posessively gripping this skin as a hot, wet tightness engulfed his cock. he nuzzles his face further into the pillow as he pumps his hand softly over his length.
the lack of anything romantic or sexual in his life was probably for the best. but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss it.
carmen brought his hand up to his mouth, spitting into his palm and shoving his boxers down to slick himself up. it felt as if a white heat was beginning to surge through his body, unaccustomed to the touch.
he had been so busy, wound so tightly. he began rutting his hips to meet his hand, releasing a low moan into the pillow. it was like the dream had gotten him almost completely to the finish line, feeling overwhelmingly sensitive from the brief touches. his other hand gripped at his comforter as he felt himself coming up on an orgasm, muscles tensing, mouth falling open.
the sharp blare of his phone ringing right next to his ear caused him to jump, ripping his hand out from his boxers and sitting up. it took him a second to orient himself, heart pounding and breaths labored.
he felt his skin heat with anger as his eyes darted over to the screen to see an unknown number.
another four seconds and he would have been blissfully falling over the edge he hadn’t fallen over in a long time.
he hurriedly shoved the phone up to his ear.
“what?” he snapped into the line, patience wearing incredibly thin. the receiving end was quiet for a beat, before a woman’s voice hesitantly responded.
“hi…um, i was calling about the listing for the unit on maple… is this the right number?”
carmy ran a hand over his face, resting his forehead in his hand. the pent up tension began to partially subside, mind now focusing on his sustained issue of finding a roommate.
“no, yeah. uh, sorry,” he cleared his throat, “this is carmen.”
“oh. hi,” the girl’s voice responded, sounding slightly surprised. she relayed her own name, as he found himself closing his eyes and tuning into the sound of her voice.
“i saw your ad in the tribune, and i’m kind of in a rough spot right now with my shithea- sorry, my landlord increasing the rent. i only need a place for a few months before i go back to the west coast.”
he let himself chuckle at her correction, hand falling to the blanket above his erection.
“yeah,” he responded, “i’m, uh, all too familiar with shithead landlords. that’s why i put the ad out in the first place. my rent is fuckin’ going up 2500 bucks.” hearing a small gasp resonate through the line at this.
“so i take it you’re not…totally enthusiastic about getting a roommate?” she questioned with a laugh.
something inside his stomach fluttered at the sound of her laugh. enough to feel a twitch from under the blanket.
god damn, was he wound tightly.
“no- i’m… well, yes, but-“ he exhales, “i guess it just has to be a good fit. i’m used to living alone.”
the girl lets out a hum of agreement.
“well, when can i meet you, carmen? test out how well you…fit?”
he had to stifle a groan at this, a dull, aching throb coming from beneath his covers. he palmed his hand over the clothed hardness. he didn’t even know what this girl looked like and somehow she was eliciting a response from him. he made a mental note to try and get laid over the next week. even if it was just a shitty one night stand. anything to alleviate this ferocity he felt.
“yeah, um,” he responds, slightly horse “i’m actually taking the day off tomorrow, so, then?”
the girl giggled again.
“wow, lucky you, taking off work on a sunday?” she teased. he takes his hand off his clothed erection and runs his hand through his unruly curls.
“yeah, i, uh, work in a restaurant. so it really is lucky…” dread filled his stomach at the thought of playing catch-up come monday. hopefully the staff would work smoothly enough to accommodate his absence.
“i’m really the lucky one,” she responds, “the sooner i can end my lease, the better. and you’re the first actual response i’ve gotten all week.” a pause. “can i come by tomorrow morning and check the place out?”
carmy’s eyes flickered towards his open bedroom door, acknowledging the cleaning he would have to squeeze in today.
“yeah, the, uh…. the morning works” he responded.
“i won’t be interrupting anything, right?” she asked.
his eyes glanced down to the hardened outline under his sheets.
“no,” he rested his head back against the wall, “no, i’m open. come at 9? unit 407.”
“okay, yeah. i’ll be there. bye, carmen” she sweetly chimed.
he let out a breath as the phone disconnected. this woman could’ve been anyone, yet something about the way she said his name sent a wave of heat through his body. he glanced back down at his hardness, then at the clock.
“fuck” he exhaled, denoting the limited time he had before he had to be at the resturaunt. he ran a hand over his face before throwing the covers off of him and forcing himself out of bed. he readjusted the tent of his boxers and walked downstairs and into the kitchen. fuck this rent increase. he loved living alone.
carmen downed a glass of water, allowing some of the cool liquid to spill onto his bare chest. he told himself he dreaded the next morning when he would meet the woman who called him, regardless of how his body responded to the sound of her voice.
he definitely wasn’t lonely, curious, or excited to see what she would be like.
fuck having a roommate.
he bent down to strip himself of his boxers, leaving them on the floor as he walked into the bathroom to start the shower. he drew back the curtain and let the water hit him without warming up.
what about being able to come home at any hour of the night? or stashing his jeans in the oven? no longer would he be comfortable succumbing to freedoms as simple as jerking off on the couch.
so because of that, carmen would rather die than try and find a roommate.
or, at least that’s what he had thought initially.
by no means did he expect his old fashioned newspaper ad to bring her.
his first thought was that she was beautiful, and he found himself drinking in the sight of her as if he were a man lost in a desert and she was a cool blue pond.
she was younger, he guessed early twenties, and cute. carmen had never considered himself the type of guy who had a type, but that split second after which he had opened the door made him rethink that prior assumption.
it also didn’t help that she had shown up in a tiny skirt and a long sleeved shirt that was so fucking tight he could see the perk of her nipples through the fabric. and what could he say to defend himself? at the end of the day he was just a man.
the first genuine thing he noticed, however, was her smile, alongside a mischievous glint in her eyes, which he was immediately enamored with. it was like opening the door and being completely blindsided, resulting in an awkward first few seconds as they stood staring at each other. the girl expectantly waited for him to invite her inside. he hadn't even realized that she had already greeted him and he was just starting back at her dumbfoundedly.
“uh. sorry,” he broke the silence, “hi. it’s nice to meet you” he stuck out his hand.
she gave him a warm smile and reached out to shake his hand.
“so nice to meet you, carmen.”
her hand was soft. and he liked the way it seemed to disappear in his. she pulled it back sooner than he would’ve liked. he reciprocated her small smile.
“carmy is fine,” he stepped to the side “come on in.”
he watched as her eyes scanned down his face, to his lips, neck, chest, before glancing back up.
he could’ve sworn her cheeks colored a bit as she stepped inside and began to have a look around.
the girl slowly made her way through the living room, running her hand along the soft backing of the couch, glancing over the various cook books stacked upon the coffee table. carmy watched her from behind as she sauntered into the kitchen, averting his eyes after tracing up the span of her bare leg, disappointed when his gaze met fabric.
stop being such a fuckin’ perv, he internally scolded himself. he took a deep breath and shoved his hands into his front pockets, continuing to walk forward, eyes burning a hole into the cabinets of the kitchen. anywhere but on her.
the girl placed her hands on the granite countertops, leaning over to examine even more cookbooks, these ones with sticky notes decorating the pages. the sweet, light smell of perfume prompted carmen to look forward, realizing he had gotten closer to the girl than he meant to. she sensed his presence and turned around, letting out a small gasp at the close proximity. her eyes darted up and locked with his.
carmen felt the eye contact send a shockwave through his body as he unintentionally towered over her.
her eyes fell to his lips momentarily and he felt his jaw clench as he watched her part her mouth and let out a soft breath. the girl ripped her eyes away from his lips, begrudgingly bringing them back up to meet his.
“can you take me to the bedroom?” she asked him. carmy blinked, heart pounding in his chest, not sure if he heard her right.
“wh- what?” he choked out. her eyebrows slightly creased, head tilting.
“the room where i’d stay? can i see it?”
his eyes shut tightly, then snapped back open. hand coming up to run through his hair.
jesus, get a grip, man. obviously she wasn’t asking you to take her to the bedroom so you could fu-
“yeah-”’ he sighed, “yeah, of course.” carmy spun on his heel, leading her back through the living room and up the stairs.
“it’s a beautiful place,” she complimented, “a lot nicer than where i’m at right now.”
the top floor looked over the living room, branching off into a hallway with two bedrooms and a shared bathroom.
“yeah, uh, to be honest, it’s a lot… fancier than what i’m usually used to.” carmy led her past his room into the vacant space, empty except for a king sized mattress.
“the, uh, mattress is yours if you want it. if you already have one, i’ll get it out of here.” he turned to glance at the girl, who had wide eyes, “won it in a stupid…sweepstakes thing my cousin signed me up for.”
he doesn’t mention that richie had signed him up to make fun of him, telling carmen that a new mattress might help him get laid since nothing else seemed to work.
her gaze met his and a big smile grew on her face. she walked to the edge of the bed, then turned to lay on it, sprawling her arms out.
“wow,” she exhaled, “you live the life of luxury over here carmy,” a big smile still on her face as she stretches out. he ignores the way her skirt creates a perfect triangular gap between her thighs, revealing a glimpse of white lacy fabric.
okay, maybe he doesn’t ignore it.
“so?” she asks. he rips his gaze upwards, finding her sitting up on the bed, eyes meeting his, “is it a good fit?” she had a small smirk on her face, crossing one leg over the other, slightly leaning back.
he liked the way she gazed up at him, chin tilting up towards him to expose more of her neck. his eyes raked down the flesh of her neck, wondering what it would be like to sink his teeth into it. to make her yelp. to mark her.
“yeah,” he softly responds, feeling his mouth dry, eyes scanning over her face, “i, uh, i think we can make it fit.”
carmy watches as her eyelids flutter slightly at this, chest expanding with a deep inhale. he could’ve sworn she pressed her thighs together, lip coming to catch between her teeth.
“okay,” she breathed, the two of them almost in a trance as they stared at each other. he was the first to break the eye contact, clearing his throat and taking a few steps away from the bed.
“you’re, um… free to move in whenever you’d like,” he tells her, fixing his eyes on the wall as he warms under the unmistakable feeling of her gaze.
she’s here to find a place to live, he tells himself, not get eyefucked by some stranger.
regardless, he feels her continue to watch him. he hears her boots click against the flooring as she stands from her position on the bed, walking over to the glass door leading to a shared balcony. outside, the door that connected to his room was just a few feet down from hers.
he follows her as she walks out, watching her place her hands on the railing and take a deep breath. it was fresh out, the nostalgic smell of a crisp autumn morning.
“it’s a beautiful area,” she quietly observes, noting the proximity of a park. the dense line of trees provided a bit of privacy for the balcony, but the bustle of passerbys were still visible down below. he hummed in agreement, watching as the balmy breeze tousled her hair. she had a serene look on her face, but she seemed far away.
“you’re, uh, from the west coast?” he asked, trying to strike up a form of conversation. the glaze over her eyes remained as she followed the sight of a woman pushing a baby stroller through the park.
“yeah,” she breathed out, “san diego. moved here for a work but my, uh….my mom isn’t doing so well. so i’m going back before christmas.”
carmen notices the twitch of her lip, gaze still fixed on the woman pushing the stroller.
“i’m, uh, i’m sorry to hear that,” he responds softly. her gaze breaks away as the woman disappears into the tree line. she meets his eyes and gives him a small smile
“don’t be. we have a…complicated relationship,” she let out a small laugh, nervously looking to the side.
“yeah, i, uh… i know how that goes,” he admits, “trust me.”
her smile warmed at this, eyes coming back to scan his face.
“i hope it’s okay that i’d be here so short term,” she offers. he nods his head.
“i really just need someone for the first couple months. until i decide whether i want to end my lease or, uh, cough up the extra money,” he reassures with a small smile.
“well, in that case, i look forward to rooming with you, carmy,” she gleams, pushing herself away from the railing and turning to face the door. he opens it for her, watching as she walks back into the room and takes in the stark emptiness.
“can i bring some stuff by today?” she asks sweetly, “decorate a little?”
he nods, reaching into his pocket and pulling out her copy of the key, handing it to her.
“you live here now, so go crazy,” smiling at the squeal of excitement she let out. unexpectedly, the girl rushed forward and wrapped her arms around carmen. he was a bit stunned, but reciprocated, letting his arms engulf her, a hand resting on her lower back.
“thank you, thank you, thank you!” she beamed, leaning into him.
“don’t mention it. really” a smile graced his face, the smell of her hair sweet. he would’ve kept hugging her for a while if it was up to him.
she pulled away, touching his forearm as she did so.
“i promise i won’t go too crazy. i noticed you have the place pretty….minamalist.”
he let out a small laugh at this.
“yeah, i’m…not much of a decorator,” he confessed, “my apartments have always been pretty boring.”
“sounds like you need a woman’s touch?” she asked, giving him an innocent smile. his brain stuttered for a minute, eyes flickering down her face to her lips. he really did need a woman’s touch. but that’s obviously not what she meant.
“yeah,” he cleared his throat “yeah, definitely.”
she let out a small giggle, “okay. i’ll be back in a few hours.”
-
as the door slammed behind her, the girl released an exacerbated breath, running her hands through a mess of hair. she made her way through the complex, pressing the elevator button.
her cheeks felt hot—her whole body felt hot, actually. what the fuck did she get herself into? to make a commitment to a roommate was one thing, to make a commitment to one that was so offensively hot was just stupid.
he had caught her completely off guard, too. she had only heard carmen as a woman’s name, so the phone call came as a bit of a shock, the meeting an even bigger one.
she knew she would have to stay away from him, roommate are strictly off limits.
do not make a move, do not make a move, do not make a move!
it would make everything so complicated, and all she really needed was a place to stay for a few months. but these words she repeated like a mantra did nothing to take away from the fact that she wanted him, bad. from the second he opened the door and she stared into his strikingly blue eyes. from when she raked her eyes down his body, taking in the way his pecs strained against his shirt, tattoos decorating his muscular, capable arms. she was so warm when he wrapped himself around her, hands settling on her lower back…she just wished they had gone lower, touched her more.
he smelled so fucking good, too, when they had hugged. the smell of his deodorant made her a little dizzy, and gave her a dull ache between her legs.
the ding of the elevator made her jump, disrupting her thoughts as she stepped through the open doors.
why did she flirt with him so much? she prayed he didn’t think she was a desperate weirdo—it had just been so long since she had been satisfied in that way. and as she sat on the bed, and he stood looking down at her hungrily as if he wanted to dominate her, she quickly decided that she would’ve let him.
the heat of her skin did not relent, so she began gathering her hair atop her head, molding it into a bun and securing it with a hair tie.
she had a few hours to take a cold shower, get it together, and call the movers to load up her boxes.
it would be fine, she told herself. everything would work out as long as she didn’t make a move. and carmen seemed gentlemanly enough to reciprocate, minus the few glances she saw him sneak of her.
she promised herself to not act on the urges. and to her credit, she didn’t. for a while, at least.
it wasn’t until tonight, about four weeks after moving in, that things started to get complicated.
it was easy, at first, to resist the flirting and the tension—mostly because carmen was never home.
he left before she woke up and only returned back after she had gone to sleep. that was the cost of being a michelin star chef though, which she had found out not from him, but from a curious google search about his restaurant.
she decided to confront him about this, curious why he was so humble about such a title. he responded along the lines of a nonchalant, “i didn’t think it mattered.”
he was a tough person to gauge—always seeming so lost within his own head. the girl felt as if she couldn’t get a good read on him, which was an unusual feeling for her.
there were moments, however, when it seemed as if she would break down a wall, illuminating herself in a stream of light from within him.
one of those moments was tonight, coming home from dinner with coworkers. she usually would just opt to go straight home after working overtime, but her boss insisted on a get-together to celebrate the end of their project. having to socialize with coworkers after hours was entirely draining, and she was more than ready to be home.
it was cold and dark, after 10 o’ clock—not that she took notice. the streets shone with the rain of a passed storm, reflecting the light of the street lamps in a blurry haze.
the girl took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the muggy post-rain sweetness of the october air. the walk allowed her to clear her mind a bit, taking notice of the perpetual heat that burned within her.
god, she needed to blow off some steam. her hand came to thread through her hair, mind flashing to carmen.
it had been so long since she was with a man—almost forgetting how it felt entirely. how it felt to be kissed, to be touched…how it felt to be full. she let out a small breath at this thought. she wondered if he was well endowed, or on the smaller side? if he was shaved or natural? if he had a curvature to him? circumcised or uncir-
“jesus christ,” she exhales, “i need to get a grip,” the reminder out loud seemed to cut her thoughts short, at least for the most part, as she approaches their building.
she makes her way inside and navigates up to their floor, unlocking the door to their unit, eyebrows furrowing as she took notice of the multiple lights on. she supposes that she had forgotten to turn them off, mentally chastising herself before locking the door behind her and setting her bag and keys down.
it felt good to be home, stripping off her blazer and making her way to the kitchen.
she opens the cupboard to grab a glass, filling it with ice. then she pulls a cold ginger beer and lime out of the fridge to make herself a drink. the vodka came a little heavy handed, only partially on accident.
she takes a long sip before making her way over to and up the stairs. she follows the dark hallway to her room, where she puts on some music and cracks the window to let the rainy breeze pour in.
the girl hums along gently to the music as she stands in front of her mirror and begins to strip her clothes off. she admires her physique as the alcohol begins to quickly initiate a pleasant buzz.
the girl leaves her bra and underwear on, admiring the delicate lace that adorned the curvature of her body. her eyes fall onto the candles on her dresser, deciding that a hot bubble bath would help melt the day away. so she takes another sip and walks to the bathroom, continuing to hum the song that reverberates through the speaker. she sways her hips to the music as she walks, even adding a little twirl to help lighten her mood.
as she goes to grab the bathroom’s knob to twist, it begins to turn on its own, the sudden realization making her heart drop to her stomach all too late.
the door swings open and the girl finds herself face to face with a shirtless carmen, hair wet and skin dewy with water droplets.
she stumbles back slightly and his strong hands grab the sides of her arms. out of instinct she places her free hand on his chest, the drink she holds splashes a few drops out onto her hand. she steadies herself, cheeks flushing.
“fuck, carm, i- i’m sorry, i didn’t know you were…” she trails off with a deep breath, her eyes darting down his chiseled chest, to his abdomen, to the deep cut v of his pelvis, down to the tuft of dark hair peaking out from beneath the edge of the towel.
well, that answered one of her questions.
the girl tears her eyes away from the arousing sight, bringing them up to meet his own. she watches as his own eyes drag down her scantily clad form, hearing him deeply exhale before bringing his eyes back up to meet hers.
his blue gaze had a dark glint as he intensely stared down at her, his lips slightly parted, brows furrowed, as if he couldn’t fully rationalize the predicament they were in.
she could smell the fresh scent of his body wash, the sharp cleanness of his deodorant. it makes her lean closer unintentionally, eyes droop slightly and lips part as she feels her body heat up.
he was incredibly firm underneath her fingertips, sturdy and strong, and still a bit damp from his shower. she would’ve kept touching him too, but his hands fall from her arms, taking a small step back, snapping his eyes shut tightly and rubbing his forehead with his hand.
“shit, i-uh, i’m sorry,” he forces out in a strangled voice, eyes glancing towards the ceiling as if to avoid the temptation that stood in front of him.
“n-no, my fault, really. i-… i didn’t realize you were home yet,” she forces out, feeling the flush of embarrassment from her cheeks, crossing her arms over her chest to provide some modesty. she leans against the door frame.
“i was gonna take a hot bath. rough day,” she elaborates as a bit of an afterthought. he deeply inhales and his eyes trail back down to her before noticing the glass she was holding.
“yeah?” he asks, “what are y’drinking?” he nudges his head forward, gesturing to the cup.
her eyes dart down to the glass, droplets of condensation cool against her fingers.
“um… moscow mule,” she confesses softly, small smile creeping onto her lips, “wanna try?” she offers.
he gives her a grin, reaching out for the drink. she tries to ignore how his fingers brush over her own.
carmen brings the glass to his lips and takes a decently long sip, eyebrows furrowing as the bitterness graces his tongue, swallowing harshly.
“shit, that’s strong,” smile on his face as he coughs lightly. she bursts out into giggles, throwing her head back.
“it was on accident,” she fibs.
he raises his eyebrow at this, which makes her laugh harder. he feels himself grin at the sight, not sure he’s ever seen her smile so big. it’s pretty, he thinks. really fuckin’ pretty.
“it’s good, though,” he praises, handing it back.
“want one?” she questions, leaning forward a bit, glass coming back up to press to her lips. carmy fixates on the sight for a moment, on her supple and sweet looking lips, before lightly clearing his throat.
“yeah, i’d, uh… i’d love one.”
the girl flashes him another sweet smile, turning on her heel and walking out of the bathroom.
“i’ll meet you downstairs then,” she chimes. as she leaves, carmen slides his eyes down her form, admiring her toned back and tracing down the alluring indentation of her spine. his gaze very quickly falls to her ass, clad in a cheeky cut of lace, watching as it slightly bounces in tandem with her steps. his breath catches, feeling himself harden beneath his towel, face heating as a throbbing sensation begins to come on.
he begins to follow her, finding himself so distracted by the sight that he almost follows her all the way into her bedroom, only snapping out of it when he sees her start to unclip her bra.
he abruptly stops and turns to walk to his own room, taking a few deep, slow breaths once he gets. there. his hands come to rest on his hips, gazing down at the tented cloth of the towel before walking to his dresser to grab a large black t-shirt and some gray sweatpants. as he slides into them, he checks in the mirror to make sure the shirt hung over his hips to cover his very apparent arousal.
he makes his way downstairs, hearing soft music play from the kitchen. a song with guitar. pretty, but sounded kind of sad.
his roommate stands at the kitchen island, garnishing his finished drink with a few mint leaves. she wears a silky bathrobe, her hair clipped up messily. she smiles up at him as he came to the counter, ice clinking against the cold copper mug as she hands it to him.
“you didn’t make yours in copper?” he asks after giving a soft thanks.
“i’m not an award winning chef,” she rebuts, “i wanted to make sure it was up to your standards,” a slight smile on her lips as she teases him.
he grins, giving a small roll of his eyes before bringing the drink up for a sip. his eyes widen.
“shit. this- this is good,” he compliments sincerely, taking another drink.
“thank you, chef,” she beams. he gives her a smile and a nod, trying to ignore how much he enjoyed hearing the name come from her.
“by the way,” she continues, “you act very humble, but i think it's really impressive for you to own a restaurant so young.”
he sets his cup down on the granite. her compliment makes his ears feel warm.
“it’s, uh…. thank you. we’re still trying to find our rhythm, y’know? but it’s coming together. slowly,” he underplays. the girl nods, taking another sip of her drink.
“did you always know you wanted to be a chef?” she inquires, leaning over the countertop onto her forearms. carmen had trouble processing her question, too distracted by the view provided from the low-hanging fabric of her loosely tied robe.
she notices his eyes wander and her skin heats under his gaze. she pushes her chest out slightly, having little clue why she was entertaining this crush of hers.
“sorry, what?” his reply comes a bit delayed. she gives a soft giggle.
“did you always want to be a chef? or did someone inspire you?” she notices the way his face drops ever so slightly.
“i, uh… i’ve wanted to be a chef for a long time. and uh, i think my brother probably had a big part in inspiring me,” he pauses, and she nods.
“that’s sweet,” a smile on her face, “only the truly inspired go on to own a restaurant.”
“yeah, he uh…he actually left his restaurant to me. used to be a sandwich shop. my dad owned it, then…left it to mikey.” his eyes drift to the skin of her neck, landing on a dainty necklace.
“are you two close?” she asks, heat from her hands causing the ice of her drink to melt and shift, clinking against the glass.
he pauses again, unsure of how to approach this, his glazed eyes giving him away a bit. she breaks the silence.
“i’m sorry, i don’t mean to pry-”
“-no, no, it’s…it’s fine,” he interjects, “mikey actually…he died two years ago. he, uh… he killed himself.” his tone softened.
carmy wasn’t sure why he was opening up so much, revealing far more than he usually did when people asked questions about mikey. when he met her eyes again, she had a sorrowful look on her face.
“fuck, carm, that’s-… i’m so sorry for your loss,” she tells him with genuinity.
“it, uh….” he goes to brush it off like he usually does, but he can’t bring himself to do it as he looks into her eyes. he swallows.
“thank you.” he says sincerely, giving a small nod. his throat begins to burn, and he looks away.
he had to break the news to plenty of people before this, so he wasn’t sure why this time felt so different. but it did.
“he’d be really proud of you, you know,” she tells him after a moment, “you’re doing a good fuckin’ job.”
carmen meets her eyes again when she says this, and just stares at her for a moment. his chest flutters at the praise, and his slow manual breaths do nothing to stop the heavy pounding of his heart.
“i, uh,” he rasps, swallowing before continuing, “thank you. i appreciate it,” he says, “really.”
the girl gives him a sweet smile and nods before coming to stand up straight. she sinches the string of her robe around her waist.
“i think i’m gonna go take my bath now.”
“enjoy,” he tells her, small smile on his face. she moves around the edge of the counter, sweetly running her hand over his arm as she walks away.
carmen knows this is just a friendly gesture, yet he still feels goosebumps rise on his skin following her touch. he hears her humming softly as she walks up the stairs.
-
there was nothing that a hot bath wouldn’t fix. especially coupled with some extensive self care, it would prove to be a form of therapy to the girl time and time again. she feels entirely satisfied, except for the fact that the final product that would seal the night in has gone missing.
on the walk to her room, she glances at carmen’s wide open door. his light was off, but she could hear quiet music coming from the room.
she approached, softly knocking on the door frame.
“hey carm, have you seen a little black container anywhere? it’s my lip mask” she leans against the opening, and takes a minute to admire the way he reclines on the bed, arms behind his head, black shirt laying on the floor.
he turns his head, taking in the image of her glowy skin, gracefully illuminated by the light of the hallway, loosely covered by the same silky, short bathrobe.
“yeah, i uh, think i saw it in the downstairs bathroom,” he offers.
she takes a small step into the room, turning her head to the small TV on his dresser. she watches for a minute before gasping.
“no way,” she lets out a small laugh, “this used to be one of my favorite movies growing up.”
“for real?” he smiles.
“hell yeah. you have good taste carmy.”
he scans his eyes over her form as she watches the screen.
“yeah, i guess i do.”
she brings her gaze back to meet his, tilting her head. carmen felt emboldened by the double-shot drink she fixed him, keeping his eyes locked with hers.
“wanna watch with me?” he invites.
she smiles, pausing for a moment, bringing her finger to her lips as if she was deliberating. he finds this endearing, and enthusiastically watches as she saunters to his bed and crawls on.
carmy sits up onto his forearms, head resting back against the headboard, shifting to make room for her to scoot in next to him. and she does, sitting upright with her knees to her chest, closer than he thought she would’ve, side of her thigh resting against his arm. she smells incredible, and carmen feels an overwhelming, almost primal magnetism towards the girl.
his eyes are fixated on the screen, but he doesn’t register the movie at all. all he can focus on is the smell of her and the warmth of her body pressed against his.
about 30 minutes into their shared viewing, the girl releases a big yawn, shuffling down to rest her head on the stacked pillows, continuing to watch the movie but feeling her eyes grow heavier by the minute. carmen’s bed was comfy, and she could help but fall into a light slumber.
he doesn’t even notice until he softly laughs at one of the scenes, and she stays silent, soundly dozing. in that moment he’s graced with the rare opportunity to lovingly study her face. his eyes trail over her eyebrows, her cheeks, rosy from her bath, some soft freckles scattered about. he studies the slope of her nose and plush of her lips, then folds his arms behind his head and goes back to watching the movie, his own eyes feeling a bit heavy.
carmen feels the girl shift, assuming she was waking up. instead, she slings an arm over him, face nuzzling into his chest. when he surprisedly turns to face her, he finds her eyes still shut. every bit of focus he had accumulated prior vanished, now only being able to feel the hammering in his chest, the warmth of her body against his—the way her hand splays across his bare skin.
he just focuses on his breathing.
not much more time had passed before she snuggles even closer, hoisting a leg up over him. he stays completely still as to not disturb her sleep, even though his arms pinned behind his head were beginning to feel like static.
the man silently marvels at how well she fit against him, slowly shutting his eyes as he feels her nuzzle her face further into him.
carmy begins to doze off, noise from the movie droning in the background, darkness of the room enveloping the two.
they stay that way for another hour, peace only broken at the shrill of carmen’s ringtone that pierces through the silence.
he feels her startle, grabbing on to him a bit tighter. his arm instinctively comes to wrap around her, hand resting on her back as he reaches over to grab his phone on the nightstand. he mentally curses the unknown caller as he declines the call, noting by his phone clock how late it had gotten.
he hears the girl let out a groan, still draped over him, readjusting her head to lay on his shoulder, breath tickling his neck.
he kept silent and didn’t move.
“m’sorry,” she mumbles, realizing their predicament, “you should’ve pushed me off of you,” her voice drowsy.
“i fell asleep too,” he justifies, “got too comfortable.”
she lets out a hum of agreement.
“yeah,” scooting closer so that her face almost presses into his neck, “you are really comfortable.”
its difficult for carmen to keep his composure, jaw tightening as she moves closer. he feels her smooth her hand over his bare chest and splay it over his sternum. he had no idea what was happening, but he knows he’s never wanted anything more than for her to keep touching him.
“your heart is beating so fast,” she softly observes, drowsily shutting her eyes again.
he clears his throat.
“the phone scared me,” a fib.
he feels her smile against his neck, and they stay laying like that in silence for another few minutes. carmen slowly regains control over his breathing, repeating to himself do not get turned on, shutting his eyes tightly.
after a moment, he feels her soft lips creep against his neck, and then she presses a small kiss into the skin. it feels as if a spark shoots down his spine, tingling throughout his body.
the man quickly rationalizes the situation, thinking she must have done it on accident. then she does it again, this time higher up his neck and closer to his ear. it was a longer kiss, distinct, and then he feels the warmth of her breath again.
carmen shifts, craning his neck downwards to look at her. she meets his eyes, and he sees the mischievous glint he was so endeared with from when they met.
his arm is still around the girl, her hand still caressing his chest. she moves it down slowly, fingertips smoothing along his skin to touch his abdomen. she doesn’t say anything, just keeps touching him, feeling the firmness of his body.
her pointer finger traces lower, dragging over the deep cut of his v-line, stopping when she hits the waistband of his sweatpants. he audibly exhales at this.
she can see the wanting in his eyes from the dim light of the hallway,
she knows she should stop herself. but between the smell of his skin and the tingling within her core, she felt as if she physically couldn’t stop. she was coming onto the one man she told herself she couldn’t have, yet her body felt so hot. and he was so….
the girl moves closer to him, their faces mere inches apart.
the pair are completely silent as carmen examines her face, watching as she bites her lip. without trying to stop himself, he reaches up, thumb coming to pull her lip from between her teeth. he runs the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip, pushing it to the side a bit, pulling it down a bit, testing how soft and pliant she was beneath him.
she exhales, and her fingers slide ever so slightly under the waistline of his sweats. she can feel curls of his pubic hair, giving her a hot, pulsing sensation within her core. the small bathrobe seems to suddenly feel constricting.
carmen sharply exhales through his nose as he feels her fingers creep beneath. he slides his hand over her cheek to grip her face tightly as a warning. the girl meets his eyes, noticing how dark they had become. she can’t help her gaze falling down to his plush lips, staring at them for longer than she should before looking back up to him with heavy eyelids.
if carmen had more sense, he would pull away and turn on the light. maybe ask her to go back to her own room. but he didn’t, so instead he leans in, just far enough so his lips lightly ghosted over hers—just far enough to let her decide. he was trying to control himself. if it were up to him in that moment, he would grab her, tear off the skimpy bathrobe, and take her for himself.
but he wanted to be more of a gentleman than that.
she lets out a soft gasp at the proximity, able to feel the heat from his face.
he’s so close, she thinks, smells so good.
she throws caution to the wind and decides she wants this.
badly.
the girl leans in and presses a slow, soft kiss to his lips. this ignites something in her, and even though she told herself to pull away after the first kiss and refrain from letting this go too far, she gets a taste of him and immediately craves more.
carmen enthusiastically reciprocates the kiss, hand gripping her face tighter and pulling her closer. they stay gentle at first, slow. but then she whimpers into his mouth at the sensation and it spurs him on, finding himself entirely too worked up from just kissing.
the kisses became a bit firmer, hungrier, messier, and carmy slips his tongue into her mouth. the room feels too hot all of the sudden, ferocity of the kiss growing—their teeth bump.
he pulls away from the kiss, lips still ghosting hers.
“we should, uh” he rasps, interrupted by the girls continued eager kisses, “we should stop.”
she pauses and nods.
“yeah,” biting at her lip, “yeah, you’re right.”
carmen contradicts himself and captures her lips again, telling himself that it’s to cherish the feeling before stopping. the girl moans into the kiss, and he deepens it again.
so much for stopping.
her hand slips further into his sweatpants, and she wraps her fingers around his erection. he releases a low, throaty groan, and slides his hand down to grasp the side of her neck, thumb across her throat.
she leans into his touch, beginning to gently stroke the length of him, fingers loosely grasping.
he was thick from what she could feel, and long enough to make the motion feel cramped within the confines of his sweatpants.
their kisses increase in ferocity and she grips him tighter. he softly bites her lip, and she lets out a hum.
“fucking touch me already, carm,” her demand comes breathily, body growing increasingly hot.
“yeah?” another kiss. she squeezes her fingers around him.
“mmhm,” she breathes, growing impatient. his hand shifts to wrap around the front of her throat, fingers lightly pressing into her.
“ask nicer,” he demands, voice low.
she feels a hitch in her breathing, surprised by the tingle his words sent through her.
never before having to ask twice, she lets out a frustrated groan and takes her hand out of his pants. she pulls the front of her loose robe open, exposing her bare chest.
“fuck,” he groans, eyes graciously raking down her form, able to make out the curve of her breasts in the low light of the room.
“touch. me.” she whines, too proud to beg for him.
his hand falls from her neck, fingertips teasing down her sternum. she lets out a breath of relief too soon—feeling him lightly ghost over her perked nipple and trace down her ribs.
“carm,” she complains. he ignores her, coming to kiss her neck instead. her scent was intoxicating, and he feels himself physically strain to keep from giving her what she wanted, finding similar pleasure in the knowledge that she was growing increasingly desperate for him.
his hand continues its trail downwards, pushing her bathrobe the rest of the way open. he slides his fingers down her stomach slowly, cherishing the softness of her skin, sliding to grasp her hip, rubbing his thumb along the curve of her pelvis. the minute he saw her he swore to himself he would take his time with her, and that he did.
she lets out a huff and grabs his hand, trying to pull him towards where she wants him. he only tightens his grip on her hipbone.
“hey,” he scolds sternly into her neck, biting her softly, “be fuckin’ good.”
she gasps at his bite, arching her back for more.
“then give me what i want,” she pleads, hand gripping onto his arm. she feels him gently smile into her skin.
“yeah?” he keeps kissing her neck, “what do you want, pretty girl?”
she feels a tingling at the name, fingers dragging up his arm, gripping onto the muscle of his bicep.
“i want you to fuc-” the same shrill ringtone blares into the silence, simultaneously vibrating the nightstand. the two jump, the girl pulling her hand away from carmy as if he were hot. his fingers grip her hard enough to bruise, before pulling away and coming to rub over his forehead, jaw tightly clenched.
as the girl recovers herself with her bathrobe, he angrily grabs his phone and answers.
“what?” he barks into the line. she sits up and smooths her fingers through her hair, dangling her legs over the bed.
maybe it was a sign that they were interrupted, she thinks, suddenly bashful about the entire situation, heat of her skin relentlessly burning.
“fuck,” he curses into the phone, “how bad is it?” eyes glancing over to the girl sitting on his bed, rubbing a hand over his face.
“alright. yeah, i’ll be there in 20,” he begrudgingly says before hanging up the phone. she looks at him questioningly.
“there was, uh, a fuckin’ leak in one of the pipes. part of the kitchen is flooding.”
“yeah,” she nods, effectively hiding her disappointment, “you should definitely go take care of that,” standing up and turning to walk out.
he calls her name and she stops, turning back expectantly.
“we’ll, uh,” he meets her eyes, “we’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?”
she puts a small smile on her lips and nods, before turning again and walking to her own room. her heart was still relentlessly beating against her ribcage—skin still hot, still wound so tightly.
it was a stupid idea to entertain, and she’s glad it didn’t happen.
at least she repeats that to herself over and over again hoping it’ll start to feel true.
carmen lets out a labored exhale, gaze falling down to the throbbing tent in his pants, feeling more wound up now than he ever had.
he regrets not touching her as soon as he had the opportunity, instead trying to tease her. he just really enjoyed how she got so flustered, impatient—certain that the girl had never experienced having to beg for anything before.
he wanted more. he knew he shouldn’t, but he really did.
she was so soft beneath him, and pretty, and desperate. he didn’t expect her to have such an attitude, though, finding himself completely roused from the bite of her interaction.
carmen turns on the lamp, flooding the room with light and squinting his eyes. he stands up to get dressed, ready to go attend to the early morning disaster in the kitchen.
as he passes her by room he swears he can hear her softly moaning.
-
next part
#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy x reader#carmy berzatto#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto smut#carmy berzatto imagine#the bear imagine
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Dreaming of You
Masterlist Here
Word Count: 320+, 600+, 940+, 1,200+
Synopsis: They couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in their dreams. The way they had you wrapped around their body as a marionette in their minds, dancing for them as they awoke to sticky blankets when they jolted upright. Their thoughts got the better of them, and they are wracked with guilt. Law, Penguin, Shachi.
Warnings: wet dreams, afab!reader, masturbation, slight yandere: law-penguin-shachi, dub con (masturbating while you're unaware and in the same room, using your image to masturbate to), all individual 'x reader', headcanons, you can sense my favouritism and bias, NSFW, 18+, MDNI.
Notes: Had to get this out, it was driving me nuts. Brought to you by my obsession with the heart-pirates lately. Please read the warnings. Kid-Pirate Version. Art link.
Tag list: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff
Cries of bliss fell from your throat as you allowed the unbridled lust overtake your body. You writhed, overcome with grinding and circling your hips to use his thick cock to chase your high, clenching around him tightly to tether yourself to him. Looking up at your face, witnessing its contortion in pleasure was all it needed for him to immediately bark out a string of curses, spilling his hot cum deep within your core.
The contractions of your walls fluttering around his throbbing cock prompted him to cry your name and chase his high with more intentional bucks and thrusts. You whine his name, gripping onto his shoulders while you allow him to use your body for his pleasure. Your own high propelled his to linger longer, his hot spurts splashing up within you as he molded your body to the shape of his throbbing cock.
“I-I’m cumming,” he whispered, his brows furrowing as the tension in his stomach snapped, “Oh, I’m f-fucking cumming.” The soft, smoky image of your body crying atop him scorched into his memories. He couldn’t get enough, his eyes glazing over as he witnessed you take his entire load deep within you. The whisper of his name on your tongue, the soft smile on your lips, and body glistening in the soft glow of lustful sweat had never had him so transfixed on a single moment before.
His body suddenly jolted awake, the images of you fading away from his mind as he immediately sat upright in his dimly lit bedroom. Lips parting, he threw back the sheets and growled at himself as he looked to his lower abdomen. The white, translucent cum coated his still quivering and throbbing cock: the sticky fluid pooling over his stomach, down his shaft and dampening the sheets beneath him. He groans, wiping his face and pinching his brow before falling back and wallowing in his own embarrassment.
“Fuck.”
Trafalgar Law
He snuck another glance down at his body, clicking his tongue to reprimand himself.
“What a fucking mess,” he growled, his lips curling up and frown furrowing in the middle of his forehead. He hastily reached for his bedside tissue box, swiping a square napkins from the slot and began violently wiping at his skin to rid itself of the cum spent below him.
He was so in control of himself, every aspect of his life being refined down to a fine art. His schedule never differed, he even jotted in when he had the opportunity to masturbate to rid himself of his pent-up stress. He had even stepped out of that routine and managed to relieve himself before falling asleep last night.
So why did this happen?
Overcome with complete embarrassment and shame, he hastily stood up and began peeling off his stained bedsheets and folded them into his laundry basket. Reaching for his linen closet, he growled under his breath while he redressed his bed with his fitted sheet, top sheet, and new cover for his plush duvet.
“The fuck is wrong with me?” he growled at himself, looking down at his cock while he snapped the buttons in place to contain the duvet. Lying back within the sheets, he growled at himself, rolled over onto his side and folded his arms over his chest.
“Law, I-I'm so close,” your fictional and illusionary voice rang in his ears, prompting him to clamp his pillow around his head to muffle the thoughts.
“Shut up,” he scolded his mind, grimacing as he felt a rush of blood pool in his cock. He attempted to ignore it, but the images of you wrapped around his cock prompted his knob to begin twitching at the thoughts.
“Just like that,” your voice called to him, face beginning to contort in pleasure as your illusionary body contracted around him in his mind, “Fuck, don't stop. Please don't stop.”
“Oh, for fucks sake,” he barked, immediately peeling the pillow away from his head and throwing it on the mattress. He folded it in half, immediately slotting his cock between the silken material.
He ground his hips down into the pillow with his left hand holding the stuffed material down firmly atop his throbbing cock, his right gripping the headboard of his bed. His cock was so achingly hard, thick veins began throbbing with desire as his mind conjured what you looked like beneath him.
Your legs would wrap around his hips, your lips crying out his name as he hit that spot deep within you that had you scream for him. He imagined pressing down on your stomach, feeling how deep he was within your abdomen while his thumb stimulated your clit.
As he imagined you reach your high, he manically drove his cock harder within the plush pillow: the satin shroud feeling slippery against his steely cock. He pictured you sobbing as you came undone beneath him, your eyes glistening as he had you reach your peak.
He gently cried your name, sobbing as his hips staggered in an unsyncopated rhythm. His voice caught in his throat as he let out a final lengthy groan. Ribbons of his release coated his pillowcase, his forehead thumping against the wall beyond the bedframe as he shot the last spurt of cum into the material.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” he mourned his sanity, moving away from his prior position and opening up the folded pillow. He grimaced at the mess, berating himself for not only making another mess he had to clean up, but angry at the fact he used the thought of his crewmate to seek out his own pleasure.
“Fuck.”
Penguin
After quickly snapping up from his sleeping position and locating his shirt from beneath his bedside table, he wiped at his cock and stomach with it to rid it of his sticky cum. He rolled onto his side, hastily scrunching his eyes shut and pouting as he tried to fall back asleep.
His thoughts were swimming with the image of you in the thralls of bliss, riding his cock as you used his body to coast through the waves of passion. He could barely halt his roaming hands snaking down his abdomen and clench around his already hardening cock.
Praying that Shachi was still sleeping in the twin bunk beside him in their shared crew-quarters, he pricked his ears up and listened for the steady rise and fall of soft snoring in his ears. Once he deemed Shachi was sleeping deeply enough, he clapped his left hand over his lips and used his right to piston his cock within his fist.
If he was forced to cum within his dreams at the thought of you, he would intend on using that image to cum of his own volition. The way you bounced on top of him, flipping to wrythe beneath him, the soft slaps of hips meeting, the ripples of your ass as he bucked in from behind you; all of these images had him whimpering into his palm while he fucked his hand to reach his high.
He whispered your name, his eyes pricking at the corners as he spilled himself into the same shirt he used to clean himself up with moments prior. He was immediately overcome with disgust at himself. He had violated the image of you as his crewmate and turned you into his own muse to reach his orgasm.
Throughout the entirety of his shift with Shachi, his pout never left his face. His brows were furrowed, his eyes were shrouded even further beneath his hat, and his soft pout quivered into a deep frown the moment his eyes met with your body across the station. His red-haired crewmate beside him noticed his change in demeanor, giving him a soft nudge with his elbow.
“The hell is wrong with you, man?” Shachi arched his eyebrow, scowling with his upper lip curling into a soft snarl, “You’re actually doing work. And you’re so damn silent.” Penguin chose not to engage his workmate, picking up the pace with adjusting a panel on the Polar Tang.
“This got anything to do with...” Shachi leant forwards, whispering a soft moan of your name into Penguin’s ear, followed by a mocking tease of, “...I-I'm cumming. Oh, I’m f-fucking cumming.” Penguin’s face turned a deeper shade of red than Shachi’s hair, the blush flooding down his neck and igniting his skin beneath the burn.
Having a shared bunk with Shachi had its benefits: his closest friend being right there for him when the night terrors got too much for one another. He usually enjoyed having him there, but now that he was throwing his intrusive dream back in his face by mocking his sleep-talking, he was livid.
“Chill out, Penguin,” Shachi jokes, giving him a clap on the shoulder, “Happens to the best of us-.”
“-I’m not some prepubescent teenager who can’t control their fucking thoughts!” Penguin barked, prompting you to turn from your desk and look towards the two men. Penguin hushed his tone, whispering quietly to his friend. “I-I just-...” he snuck a look over at you, his breath hitching as he noticed your stare.
You shot him a puzzled look, glancing at him up and down before returning to your work. Shachi shook his head, clapping over his shoulder to support him.
“You know,” Shachi whispered, “They probably won’t bite,” he nudged him, urging him a little closer to you, “Why don’t you go ask ‘em if they wanna make your dreams come true.” Penguin snapped his head over to Shachi, who had already begun sprinting away from an enraged Penguin.
“Get back here, asshole!” Penguin roared after him, his blush deepening within his cheeks. Shachi chortled, reaching around your body and shielding himself behind you.
“Oi, don't bring me into whatever this is!” you chastised him, attempting to break away from Shachi’s grip. Penguin attempted to reach behind your shoulders, just as Shachi pushed your body into Penguin's.
As your chests collided, the angle of Penguin’s head trying to reach Shachi had his lips knit immediately with yours. You squealed in surprise, humming against his lips as Penguin's own surprise gasped against your own.
You both remained equally surprised at the fact that neither of you pulled away. In fact, Shachi reached for your wrists and clamped them around Penguins neck before he quickly scuttled away, almost forcing you to give into your mutual craving for one another. You felt the rise in heat on Penguin's cheeks, the warm burn causing you to smile against his lips.
Humming gently, you angle your chin up to deepen the soft kiss. You cradled his cheeks, squeaking in delight as he wraps his arms around your back and hoists you up into his chest. You break away from his lips to gaze deeply into his blushing face.
“Sorry ‘bout this,” he murmurs before giving you a soft peck on the lips, “Can we hold this thought for a second so I can go kill him real quick?”
“By all means,” you giggled at him, watching as a mischievous grin drew over his lips. As he releases you and begins to turn away, you draw his attention back with a soft hand atop his cheek. You draw him in close, giving his unoccupied cheek a soft kiss.
“Good luck.”
Shachi
Growling, he immediately threw himself into his shared lavatory with his bunkmate, Penguin. Never had he been so thankful that Law put Penguin on night shift with Ikkaku tonight without him. He aggressively scrunched at some tissue paper, cleaning up his spend all over his red happy trail. He groaned as he fisted at his semi-firm cock, ensuring all of the cum was out of his shaft and firmly squelched into the tissue.
Looking over at his bedside analog clock, he groaned and flung his head back. The small arm of the clock was barely touching the four, the larger one slowly moving to flick onto the ten. He slung his pajama pants over his hips, the material hanging limply and exposing his chiseled adonis belt.
“Not even 4am, for fucks sake,” he shook his head, peeling back his sheets and throwing them into his laundry basket. Weighing up his options, he decided it was not worth attempting to fall back asleep after remaking his bed with fresh sheets, and instead chose to use his time to have a lengthy and uninterrupted shower. He might even indulge in taking a lengthy, relaxing bath afterwards.
Considering the time and crew rotation, he chose the bathroom furthest away from crew quarters to not disturb those remaining in blissful slumber. As soon as he entered the room, he heard a soft humming melody echoing within the tiled walls and joined with the flooding water from the tap filling the large spa.
He turned the corner just as you dropped the towel from your body and stepped within the large bath. His eyes roamed over your thighs, hips, ass, stomach, chest and shoulders until he met with your gaze.
“Oh!” you shrieked in shock, gawking at him as he arrived in nothing but his uniform pajama pants, “Sorry, Shachi. I hope I didn't wake you!” A soft blush rose to his cheeks, looking away from your form and walking over to the shower.
Bathing together was not something uncommon with the heart-pirates. All members of the crew would often indulge in dipping into an onsen together, sharing a ceramic cup or wooden box of sake and joking with one another. It was never anything other than platonic, purely getting joy from being warmed within the water as you shrouded uniformes and became of equal stations and standing.
But now that his mind chose to corrupt the image of you naked, he couldn't help but to turn away from you and ready himself for a very cold shower. Stripping himself from his pants, he placed them in a neat pile beside your clothes. He took off his hat and glasses, rubbing his hands through his hair and placed them on top of his pants.
“You didn't wake me,” he muttered with a straightened, tight-lipped smile, “Couldn't sleep, thought I'd start early. What about you?" He turned on the tap, wincing as the ice-like shards hit his skin.
"Pretty much the same, unfortunately," Shrugging, you gathered several items to scrub at your skin, "I'm on the early shift, too. Thought I'd have a bath." Washing your face first, you lathered the suds atop your cheeks and eyes before dipping yourself in the hot water.
You sighed, leaning back and submerging your hair to lather in foamy shampoo. Your eyes were closed as you arched your back to gather the appropriate angle to dip the crown of your head within the water. Shachi snuck a look at you from behind the tiled wall of the shower stall, immediately clamping his eyes shut as he took in the sight of your bare chest with peaked nipples dripping with opaque suds of soap. He hid his face behind the wall, his forehead resting on it as his cock sprung to life.
“Fuck,” he whispered, turning the cold tap on more to freeze his body out of the thoughts overcoming him. His cock refused to let up, immediately pooling with blood and twitching with anticipation.
“Shachi?” you called to him, brows knit with concern, “Shach, you okay? You hurt?” You attempted to peer around the ceramic wall, but ultimately decided to give him privacy and an opportunity to talk.
“‘M fine,” he grunted out, his right hand grasping his cock and attempting to choke the life from it, pleading with it to fall back to its usual, flaccid state, “Just got soap in my eye, s’all.” The lie was easy enough to believe, causing him to grimace at the fact he could so easily get away with this.
“Oh, I hate it when that happens!” you comment with a soft laugh, lathering up your scalp and groaning as you massaged your fingertips within the damp strands.
Shachi flinched beneath the icy water, his arousal now heightened as soon as he heard your groan. He clenched his teeth tightly shut, his hand moving of its own volition as he circled his thumb over his tip.
“Hey, Shachi?” you hummed in thought, dipping your hair into the water and removing the soap from the ribbons of soaked locks, “Ikkaku, Bepo and I were gonna go to the bar in-land after our shift ends tomorrow. Bepo was gonna ask Penguin if he wanted to come too.”
Shachi hummed in interest, his voice breaking a little in the middle as he listened to your statement. He couldn't help it, his hand began pistoning his shaft and strangling his knob with each crude thrust. He sucked in his bottom lip and clamped down harshly on the flesh.
“It's got that one cocktail I'm obsessed with there,” you added, gathering some conditioner and layering your hair within prayer-like hands, “Did you wanna come too?”
Shachi’s eyes went black with lust, hearing such a simple word as he worked at his cock behind the shroud of the tiled screen. His breath hitched as he felt his end reach its peak, precum beginning to pearl at his slit.
“Shachi?” you call to him, unaware that he was picking up the pace of his hand beating his cock to the sound of your voice, “Do you wanna come?”
Shachi whimpered, nearly reaching his high as his eyes rolled back to your innocent suggestion. He was right there, he just needed one more little push.
“Wh-What was that?” he tested, using the volume of the pelted water within the shower to mask your question from reaching him, “Can you speak up a little? Ask me again?”
“Shachi?” You asked him, your question so innocent, yet Shachi allowed his thoughts to run away with him the moment you asked your question, “Do you wanna come with me?”
“Y-Yes,” he whined, “I wanna come. Let me come with you. I wanna come so bad.” Shachi painted the wall of the shower with hot spurts of his sticky cum, his eyes rolling back as he chased his orgasm as silently as he could. Ropes of spattered cum wrote his sinful desires against the tiles, his toes curling and his hips lewdly bucking. After coming down from his high, he clicked his tongue to reprimand himself.
“Fuck, Shachi,” you giggled, “I've never heard you so enthusiastic about a cocktail before! You sure you wanna come with us?” Your teasing voice prompted Shachi to chuckle from behind the wall, his voice was breathy and filled with humour.
“I would love to come with you,” he panted, immediately wracked with guilt about using your voice and image to reach his climax for the second time today, “Just let me know when you're heading out, and I'll be ready.”
"Okay, great!" you giggled, rinsing the conditioner in the water and remaining blissfully ignorant to Shachi's orgasm erupting on the wall so close to you.
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