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amarmoria · 1 day ago

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Love and Legion│Act Ⅰ

Summary: 𝑳𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂 𝑨𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒖𝒔 adopted you almost 14 years ago, after a catastrophic invasion of your country from the two tyrannic Twin Emperors of Rome, only just two years after sending her son away, she can't help but feel pity and guilt at a little child who was just a years younger than her son should've been right now and in an indisputable argument with some of the senators, she successfully stole you away from the hands of your unknown parents.

Lucilla meets her beloved husband and courageous General, 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒖𝒔 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒖𝒔 many years later, and marries him in hopes of finding protection and love she once seeked in another-- and she did of course. Only a few years later when tensions began brewing between you and your beloved 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒑-𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, a tension that should not and should've never existed in the first place.

And even more chaos prevails when 𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐, a Gladiator brought by the war catches your mother's undivided attention. You don't know why she's so interested in some vicious gladiator until you confronted him to cure the growing dislike h̶a̶t̶r̶e̶d̶ you have towards him.

𝑨 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒑-𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒖𝒔 𝑨𝒄𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒖𝒔 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑳𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒖𝒔 '𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐' 𝑽𝒆𝒓𝒖𝒔 𝑨𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒖𝒔 𝐹𝑖𝑐

➪ 𝘿𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘿𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘗𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘺.

➪ 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘴 𝙁𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡, 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙡, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦.

➪ 𝙉𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘎𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳 1 𝘢𝘯𝘥 2.

➪ 𝘌𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴.

Realm's Delight the poets willed you, just not long after Lucilla rescued you from near death. Despite the hushed whispers of resistance, no one dared to speak up against the Princess of Rome. And not long after she brought you back, the people were singing and celebrating outside your home, holding festivals and carnivals.

And of course, the twin emperor's annual gladiator pit was a way of celebrating your new 'birth' as the 2nd princess of Rome, though the title was quickly obliterated and made it as it is now.

Over time, the twin emperors grew fond of you and dubbed you as Emperor Geta's 'Dundus', which your mother was greatly offended, but chose to keep mute on the subject, not wanting to anger the two.

Your mother always dresses you in the most grand gowns. Never would one catch you dead in a garment made of wool or linen, gods let them see you or Lucilla will be their end. You had maids assist you everywhere you go, not like your mother lets you go out when you were 8 of years, but when you do, there were not less than 6 of them hovering around you, much less than your Equites (knights), if you think the maids were suffocating, how much more was your battalion of hundreds, exaggerated obviously, but it was how it looked like in your eyes before.

Your magistra, or they also call it teacher, was your mother’s when she was a child, she didn't trust anyone outside to teach and govern her only daughter, so it was her until you grew old enough to have her removed.

And as trees withered, you grew, the young girl hiding behind her mother's skirt has departed but not forgotten, for people would always remember her, like your very first name day, though it was the 6th name day in your honor, everyone had gathered in your mother's gardens while you stuck yourself in her bosom the whole time, you would not leave her until they all left for their beds.

She laughed the whole night, maybe even now if you would remind her. She told you she loved you not any less than her son. The older maids told you when you pestered them that the princess has never been this happy in those 2 years she 'lost' her son. Of the cause of losing her son, they did not speak. Others say that he was assassinated the night following Maximus' death. But every maid and knight tell other tales, or many of such tales, each differs from the other, so you learned not to listen to their story of theories.

"My lady," your focus broke as a voice cut through your thoughts. "Huh— what?"

"Ah, the silk, my lady. Might I inquire as to the color that would best please you?"

You give your maid a smile before leaning in the stall to browse the silk sheets. "Hm,"

"I do like that one," you point to the baby blues, then your eyes get caught on the burgundy.

"Oh, how splendid this shade of red appears! Truly, it is a vision of beauty." Your other maid sang, and all the others nodded and agreed. "Very well. We shall take the burgundy, the baby blue, the pink, and the purple adorned with gold, if you please. My thanks."

You were about to reach for your money when the maid pulled out a bag of coins that was clearly from your mother and handed the merchant the payment.

"Thank you, Aemma. " You bowed your head slightly in her direction, even though you obviously didn't need your mother's money. Aemma had been your maid since your mother took you in. Only being a teen when she was hired, she quickly gained your favor and your mother's. The both of you grew up together and your friendship remained steadfast throughout the years.

"Shall that be all, Princess?" The merchant says, handing your maids the boxes of silk. "It is. I bid you good morrow," you bow and smile. You wait until the maids situated themselves with the boxes before you continue to stroll farther down the market.

You pull the hood of your cloak over your head, shielding your eyes from the scorching sun. You opted to wear a lighter and thinner fabric than you usually use because of the heat that's been torturing Rome for a while now; you wonder if someone angered the sun god for Rome to suffer like this.

You sigh as you fan yourself harder. Your gaze falls on the structure, its gigantic walls impossible to ignore. The Colosseum. Every day, gladiators from every corner of the world fight there, a place you’ve been wanting to visit but have been strictly off-limits, thanks to your mother and Acacius.

Every one of your friends had already watched a gladiator fight once while you didn't even get to step near it, a curse or a blessing?

A—

"..Bullshit,"

You hear your maid's gasp behind you, except Aemma, for she's already used to you. Your hood fell from your head, exposing you to the heat, but you did not pay care, your focus remained on the grand Colosseum, towering and timeless, there was a time where man didn't even know how to make a fire, and now you stood in front of its arches, carved by centuries of wind and whispers.

"My lady?" You snapped out of your reverie, turning your head over your shoulder to look behind you.

"Are you coming?" A knight says. You looked back to the colosseum, then back to your maids and knights.

Your shoulders sagged as you turned your back and departed, disappointment etched in your every step.

"Let's go." You murmured, they followed behind you as you dejectedly turned in the direction of your house. But just before you could take another step, Aemma pipes up.

"Ah! The General returns home this day, my lady."

𓃗

You dressed yourself for bed, the not so sheer fabric sliding across your body as you yawned for the umpteenth time of the day. You're just so bored these days, even shopping does not entertain you no longer.

He's coming today though. The thought gave that spark in your eyes. You won't be so bored anymore, just watching him entertains you, but isn't that his role though? To entertain the emperors in their futile attempts at making Rome great again, you wonder why he tolerates their company. You can clearly see the disgust on his face whenever they say something.

You sat on your vanity, lighting the candles one by one. Then you took your hair out of its style, carefully removing the ties and clips embroidered in by your mother, then untangling the knots. You let your hair free for the night as your arms stretched up. Maybe today's shopping did tire you, but still it did not amuse you.

You took tentative steps towards the door, softly opening it and closing when you got out. Then you jogged quietly to the sitting room, careful not to wake Aemma, or she'd be obliged to stay with you until you slumbered.

You sat down on the sofa and waited for the time to pass. The hours seemed to stretch on like an endless, quiet hum in the background. You played with the board game, then read a book to which you abandoned after almost falling asleep. You peeked out the window yet again, but still no sign of him.

You let out a small sigh, shifting uncomfortably on the soft sofa, your mind wondering at the patterns in the room. You grew bored enough that you started pacing circles around the low table.

You don't know how much time had already passed as you were already fast asleep on the couch, your hands under your chin supporting it, your mouth wide open as you drooled on the pillow.

You only heard the gates creaking open, and the sound of hooves running in, but you were too tired and weepy to even open your eyes that you succumbed to slumber. Then you heard his heavy footsteps approaching you. The deep rumble of his voice as he spoke of something you didn't make out. One second there were voices and another you were in the air, hands secured under your neck and knees, lifting you up. He didn't even grunt or struggle, like you were something inanimate.

"..amor.. here.. go," you frowned, but remained still, not like you could wake up. You could only hear a few words, barely clear, and that was it all before you completely slept in the darkness.

𓃗

"He called it, The Dream of Rome,"

"Dream of Rome?"

"Yes, where good people rule instead of the big, bad people."

"Wow! I want that too! I want to build the biggest statue of you and I'm, I'm gonna put mine beside it! I'm gonna make sure that all the people in the world are rich! A-and I’m gonna give the money to the people outside too!”

"Me too, Carissima" Lucilla kisses your head. "Me too."

𓃗

"No, I heard the emperors are to host a private gathering later, where two gladiators shall fight for their amusement!"

"What, truly? Ye cannae be speakin' in jest! I’m certainly goin’ to see this for meself!"

You rolled your eyes, eyeing your unfinished bitter tea.

You woke up with a start earlier, your hair disheveled and dried drool on your chin. Your memory was hazy from last night, but you definitely don't remember sleeping in your room, and you surely don't sleepwalk, do you?

"Lady Aurelius~!" You snapped from your thoughts when you heard that bitchy voice beside your ear.

"What." You say. Clenching your jaw as you gripped the teacup. "Coming with us later, or are you going to chicken out again?"

You grip the teacup till your knuckles almost turn white as their shrilling laughs reach your ears. You absolutely don't 'chicken out', you scoff. It's just that your mother doesn't like you wandering off and risking yourself getting in harm's way.

But you certainly don't chicken out, no way, and you're undoubtedly not going to ruin a quarter of your reputation to these degenerates.

".. I shall go." You wince as they jump off their seats, clapping and howling as they excitedly 'plan' the escape. Most of the parents of your friends have not less than the rank of patricians and nobles, so they are also on high prison level monitoring, but yours was the highest in the friend group, if you can even call it that.

"Okay, sae this is gaun'ae be our final plan fo later, we must arrive in this designated place after 4 hours sharp, enouch time for ye tae escape, got it??"

"Sir yes sir!"

"Aye!"

"Let's go battalion!"

𓃗

"I shall catch up on my rest. Please, do not disturb me!" You yelled, making sure it echoes around the place so it reaches everyone.

You exhale in a short, hurried breath, dusting your disguise as you turn your head to Aemma, who dressed up as you.

"M-my lady, this far is t-too dangerous, my lady will have my head—"

"Fear not, Aemma. I shall return here you can even blink."

"But my lady—"

Without letting her finish, you stood on the edge of the window, gripping the blanket you tied together into a makeshift rope tightly. A thick blob of sweat slid down your forehead, your breath hitched at your chest as you tried to steady yourself.

There isn't going back, anyway.

And for the last time before you violate the very thing your mother was so strict about, you glanced over your shoulder at your maid; she was dressed in your most expensive gown, her hair hidden beneath the veil you gave her. While you were dressed in her daily attire as a maid, the both of you switched closets just after you had convinced her for nearly an hour. You can tell she wants to stop you, but who was she to do that?

And turning your face to her, you clutched the blanket tightly in your two hands, it's fabric rough under your fingers, slowly, you lowered yourself, feeling the fabric tug at your hands as you began to slide down, the rope beneath you swaying from side to side, you held your breath trying to discern if your mother heard, after a few seconds of nothing, you continued your venture.

Your hands were beginning to hurt and turn red from the rope, but you're too far ahead to back out, so you quickly doubled your speed and not long after your feet finally hit the ground. You celebrated internally, huffing and puffing with your hands on your knees.

You looked up to see Aemma looking relieved, you smiled and waved at her, to which she returned and shooed you away.

She mouthed you the word hurry before you quietly ran for the gates.

Good thing you weren't that tired tonight or you would've given up running halfway across the yard. Another thing, though, was the gate. If you open it and it makes that loud shrieking sound, you're dead.

You frowned and looked around, trying to think of something, anything. You were almost out of wits when you spotted a huge stone just beside the wall.

Thank the Gods.

You let out a deep sigh of relief, your shoulders slumping from the tension escaping your body. You almost thought you had to go back and just accept death, but good thing the Gods were with you.

You jogged to where it was, the rock was slippery, but enough for you to stand on, you just have to grip the wall and jump over.

You groaned as you lifted yourself from the rock, holding onto the wall like your life depended on it. After regenerating your lungs, you swung your right leg over the wall, then pulled yourself up to sit on the wall, then you swung your other leg over, and like sitting on a tall chair, you hopped off the wall.

Your landing on the ground felt so good your knees gave out and you landed on a soft patch of grass. Beads of sweat filled your forehead, and you wheezed, panting heavily.

But you have to hurry. The other set of guards were already arriving in minutes after a small break from their shift. You looked up at the sun. 10 minutes.

Enough time for you to run out of the estate.

You took a deep breath and pushed yourself off the ground, your legs pumping into motion. Then you took off, your legs pumping as soon as you took your second step, the air was cool, but speed quickly warmed you up, you were sweating almost everywhere, but you couldn't stop, the rhythm of your breath matched the beating of your heart.

In the next few moments, you could hear your heart beating from everywhere across your body, the sound of your feet hitting the ground, and the weight of seconds passing by.

Every step was sharper, harder. You swore the ground almost shook. The clock in your mind ticked down, 10 minutes—you could make it. Your muscles burned, but you didn't slow down, obviously.

And finally, you reached the bustling market of the main city. You guys were supposed to meet up behind the bank. You frowned and looked around. With all these people, it would take you half a year to get to it.

Your eyes scanned around until you found the enormous building up ahead. You were just about to jog to the back when you felt a sharp push on your shoulder from behind. The unexpected jolt threw you off balance for a moment, and you stumbled slightly before catching yourself. Whipping around, you saw who had bumped into you, a mix of surprise and annoyance flashing across your face.

That was before you realized it was a knight of high status, much like your knights but this one was bigger, more bulked. He scowled in your direction, you quickly siddled backwards, he was beside a carriage with a cage behind it. It was withered and old and rusty. You had expected an animal or maybe food for delivery inside, something small, easily handled. But what surprised you was something much bigger. There, sitting on a wooden, worn bench, was a man. His arms rested on his knees, and his head hung low, as though in silent prayer. You blinked, trying to make sense of the strange sight. Your gaze lingered a moment too long, and suddenly, as if he felt your stare, his head shot up. His bright blue eyes locked with yours, and your breath caught in your throat.

Your eyes widened in shock, but his expression remained unreadable, unblinking, as though this moment was nothing new to him. His glare burned holes right through the back of your head. You willed yourself to look away from the man, his gaze overwhelming.

You were roused from your thoughts when another guy in armour knocked into you, sending you stumbling backwards yet again.

"Fucking—" he hisses, brushing off his armour. "Move aside, whore." He spits on the ground near your foot.

You gasped and involuntarily stepped back in shock. Whore?! You are not a whore! You've never even kissed someone! Much less go whoring around!

You clenched your jaw. "Excuse me but I am not a whore mister."

He halts his movements. "Big mouth for slut like you huh? Bet you could fit the whole of Rome in there," he snorts, his laugh ugly to the ears.

"I beg your pardon—" The slap landed hard on your face, you clutched your cheek and winced as it stings from the touch of your hand.

"Tch, that's what screaming whores get from me. Now move aside, harlot"

A shakey breath disguised as a scoff escapes from your mouth, both your hands clutching your tender cheek.

What you didn’t notice was the piercing gaze of the man, unwavering and fixed on you as the scene played out in front of him.

𓃗

"Oh—! Good gods! We've been standing around for ages waiting for you!"

You pant, your cheek still tender but less puffy and red. "M-my apologies. I had—"

"There is no time for such nonsense; let us proceed!"

You exhaled heavily as they ushered you to hurry behind them.

"Ugh, I'm so focking excited!" Squealed the girl beside you.

"Shut your pie hole, Alyssa! Should we be discovered due to your loose tongue, I shall your arse once and for all!" The ginger in front of you whispered. If you weren't so distracted by what happened earlier you would've laughed at them and their antics, they always were bickering like children ever since you met them, but honestly, as the only children of their respective families and being cousins wasn't so shocking when they would clash their heads off.

Not long after, you finally arrived at the 'party'. But the party was certainly... Unique.

There were these almost naked exotic dancers on poles. They wore thick and clumpy makeup but still made it look good. Their attire was.. quirky, resembling a jester but the fabric was of silk which was very expensive.

Then there were tigers chained to the walls in cages as people gaped and checked them out.

Almost everyone was wearing masks, except the servants, and of course the emperors, they were cheering and howling loudly as they conversed with their... Escorts.

You cringe inwardly, shuddering in repulsion as one of them licks Emperor Geta's neck.

"Oh. My. Word!" your friend behind you whispers. "Indeed! This is truly extraordinary! I find it most delightful!”

"I have never attended a gathering of this nature!”

It was said the two emperors would often engage in.. unconventional parties. One of those was this.

No one would say anything more in front of you but you heard they did things here, in an unusual but particular way, but you didn't understand what they meant until this. Maybe they meant how wild the guests and the party were?

"Look! Look! It's starting!" Your friend exclaimed, tapping your shoulder as she pointed at the center of the room.

A hush fell over the crowd and a man with gold crowns and green robes entered.

"My emperors! Ladies and gentlemen! And senators," he bows dramatically, whipping his head down as his hands stretch outwards to the side. Then he flicks his head up like he had hair, then proceeds strutting around the center.

"For your entertainment," he pauses, looking around proudly like he owned the crowd. "The art.. of combat!"

The crowd gasps in awe, as well as your friends, who murmured in astonishment.

"May I present— The Barbarian..." Your gaze is immediately fixed on the man as he enters the room, though you could not see him clearly as you were at the very back of the crowd, the people were towering over one another as they wrestled for a look at the barbarian. Moments later the crowd erupted into a flood of cheers and claps.

"What's happening?" You whispered to your friend, who was also busy hollering.

Alyssa, who was nearer to you, replied. "The barbarian and the renowned warrior are about to engage in combat!"

You bit your lip and stood on your toes to get a better view of the fight, but as you do, so did the others, so now you're stuck in an endless domino effect with the greedy people in front of you.

"I— can't see—" you choked out. It was getting real tight in the back when you started hearing the punches and grunts.

"Oh! Goodness!" Alyssa gasped. "What is it? What is it?"

"He just shattered that precious vase upon the other man’s head as though it were of no consequence!"

"How would you know it is of such value?"

"Pray, it is simple! My mother owns one as well! The artisan crafted but fifty of them in all the world!"

Each blow and strike sent the crowd into a frenzy of gasps and hollers, their excitement building with every move.

Seconds later you hear a thud echoing around the room, you see a pillar from afar slightly shaken. And not long after a loud bang was heard across the room, the crowd gasped, either at shock or amusement, or both.

But you, on the other hand, just did not feel it. You came all this way and struggled for what seemed like so long, violated your mother, and you couldn't even see what you battled for.

The audience clapped for what you assume was the winner, then the sound of a sword clattering on the ground.

"Remarkable! Remarkable!" You hear Geta clap.

As the emperor began walking to the winner, the crowd began pushing and pulling in front of you, wanting to take witness to the event transpiring, and so it results in you getting pushed away and abruptly separated from the rest of your friends, you tried gripping the hood of the one nearest to you only for your arm to be swatted away by some bystander.

"H-hey! Guys!" You yelled, but the crowd was too loud and they were too distracted to take notice that you were already drifting away from them.

"Stop!" You clutch the hood of your cloak, careful not to reveal yourself as the crowd pressed in around you, constantly shoving and bumping as they moved, making it hard to stay balanced.

"Guys I'm here!" You yell yet again, but tour attempts are futile when the crowd easily overpowers your voice of alarm.

Mere moments after you're struggling when the crowd pops you out of them, finally getting the chance to breathe without smelling their uncured body odors.

And just as you thought you were free, a firm grip seized your arm, yanking you to the side before you could react.

"W-what! Stop! Help mmphm!" Your eyes widened as you were met by a knight, one with the same armour as the guy who called you a whore but it wasn't him, he was bald and the knight holding you now wasn't.

"Are you a servant in this establishment?" His gruff voice says. "W-what? No, certainly not—!"

And before you get a chance to speak, he drags you with him deeper into the hallway. You pulled and tugged on your arm from his deadly tight grip, but no matter how hard you did, he didn't budge.

While you kept writhing and struggling beside him, you already arrived in a room, he yanked the door open, impatient to get in, your eyes flicker to the jail-like door which his other companion opened with a key, once it was open, he dragged you inside a bathroom like room, complete with a tub, sink and toilet.

Then your eyes fixed on a man in the gigantic tub. He also seemed surprised at the commotion when his eyes opened sharply, scanning his surroundings and finally landing on you.

"Do your job, whore," the knight grumbles. You yelped as he shoved you on the ground, your hands slipping on the wet floor and just falling on your face.

"This is preposterous!" You yelled, groaning as you held your nose. You felt a trickle of liquid down your nose, your eyes widened as you saw the blood dripping on the floor.

"My n-nose!" You pushed yourself from the floor, your hood sliding off your head. "Urgh,"

"Who goes there?" You hear the man say, a low grumble in his voice. "Do not inquire of me, for I am the one cast into this place!"

You rolled your eyes as you turned to look at him. You looked up and stilled, the blood still dripping down your nose.

He's the barbarian? You were locked in a staring contest with the barbarian, his glare unwavering while yours were shaking.

"Y-you're.." your mouth opens in shock while still clutching your nose.

"I'm what?" His eyebrow raises up. "You're, the, b-bar—"

"Barbarian?" He scoffs but says nothing further, flicking the coins on the tub to the ground.

You huff. "Tch, rude.."

"What'd you say?" He tilts his head upward, not sparing a glance at you. "I said get me out of here."

"Pray, tell me, why would I do such a thing?"

"B-because—!," you shoot him your best glare, hoping he'd follow, but a deep, rumbling chuckle echoed from his chest, a sound that seemed to vibrate the air with a dark, almost animalistic undertone.

It wasn’t the kind of laugh that invited warmth or joy—rather, it was low and menacing, like the growl of a predator stalking its prey. The sound felt heavy, as though it carried the weight of something far more dangerous lurking just beneath the surface.

"Very well, Your Highness. What benefit would it bring me to set you free?" He spoke coldly. "Hm? Did the man not give you a direct command to perform your duties, or was that only me?"

You scowl, jaw clenching over your growing irritation.

"Release me, I implore you." You grit your teeth. But still, he didn't budge, ignoring you completely.

What the fuck is his problem. It was already noon and your mother might've already sent Acacius's battalion to find you.

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enchantedchocolatebars · 1 day ago

Text

Witte Solstice - Chapter 31

Cover art by @leespinoodle.

Fic written by me (enchantedchocolatebars) and @leespinoodle.

Summary: It's winter in the Boiling Isles, and Caleb prepares to celebrate the solstice with his wife, his friends… and hopefully, with Beardo Philip! Philip swears he'll never partake in the satanic holidays of those demonic witches. But when Caleb invites him over for the solstice… maybe he'll find himself making an exception.

Ao3 version

(AAA, LAST CHAPTER!! I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS STORY IS GOING TO BE OVER AFTER THIS!!! 😭 😭 😭 Thank you to everyone who took the time to read it, and a special thanks to @leespinoodle for being my companion throughout this writing journey! I highly recommend checking out their works since they're a really talented writer. This story, in particular, will always mean a lot to me since it's my first ever completed collaborative fic with a friend. I'll always go back and reread it whenever I can. But anyway, yeah! Hope everyone has a Happy New Year + a flourishing 2025! I'm defo going to be taking a small break after this (TIRED), but expect to see more fics, fic requests, headcanons, written works, etc. from me in the future. I'LL ALSO BE GETTING TO THE ASKS IN MY INBOX!)

Enjoy!

Soft golden light arose in the sky the next morning as Beardo Philip gently stirred in his sleep.

When he awoke, he let out a longish yawn, sitting up in bed to stretch his arms.

His blue eyes soon began to survey the spare room he was in, recalling a few of the events from yesterday.

Philip remembers having spoken to Caleb, as well as being led into this room after their talk.

Fables such as "The Ant and the Grasshopper" and "The Lion and the Mouse" were also fresh in his mind... for some odd reason.

Slipping out of the quilt that covered him, Philip headed to the door.

...

Caleb sat at the kitchen table, nursing a hot whiskey tonic. He looked up as Philip stepped out of the spare room. "Good morning," he said softly. "How are you feeling? I'd imagine you have quite the headache."

The second Caleb said that, Philip felt the pain in his head return.

"Ugh, don't remind me...," he calmly groaned, taking a seat at the table. "I'm fine, by the way. Slept fairly well. You?"

"I barely slept a wink," Caleb admitted. "The last of the guests left shortly after dawn, so I just laid down for a bit before getting up to make myself a tonic. Would you like one?"

Philip gave a slow, restful nod. "A tonic sounds fine. Is it feasible for you to make tea as well?" he requested.

"Of course." Caleb stood to set a kettle on the stove. "Anything to eat? We have bread and pottage from yesterday's supper."

"I'll have bread," Philip calmly spoke to Caleb as he tried piecing together the sober apology he was planning on making to the elder.

In his mind, it was long overdue.

Once the tea and tonic were done, Caleb brought them over to the table, along with a loaf of bread and a knife. "Here you are. Something on your mind?"

"Thank you." With breakfast now in his possession, Philip took hold of the wooden teacup, curling his fingers around the handle as he brought it to his lips, blowing the steam that arose from the liquid.

After a long sip, he released a breath.

The tea was black and plain, just how he liked it.

He set the cup down.

Philip was unprepared for Caleb's question.

It was evident to the elder that there was something on his mind.

"Hm?!" Philip went, quickly shifting his gaze to his teacup as he saw his reflection ripple through the liquid like little waves until it stilled.

He soon sighed, looking up at Caleb with regretful eyes.

"It's just..." Philip sighed once more. "I'm… I'm sorry, Caleb. For yesterday. I... very much regret not making a genuine arrival to your party. And..." Philip drew a long, deep breath and let it out.

"... I apologize for not visiting you often. I know that Yule is over, but I had a gift that I wanted to give you. I'm not sure if it'll mean much now."

"A gift? You didn't have to bring me a gift. You know that spending time together would have been enough of a gift for me," Caleb said, sitting back down.

Philip nodded. "I understand. However, I still wish to give you what I made. It's something I know you'll find fetching. View it as a humble apology gift from me to you. Would you mind opening your hands up?"

Caleb tilted his head questioningly but held out his hands.

Reaching a hand into his pocket, Philip pulled out his gift and placed it into Caleb's hands.

Caleb held a cute, delicately painted carving of a small yellow duckling with an orange bill and black eyes that had white pupils within his palms.

The bill was meticulously crafted to make the duck look cheerful.

As a small gag, the duck's lively aura is complimented by a single squeaky noise that acts as a quack.

Caleb gently cradled the wooden duckling in his hands, marveling at the craftsmanship. He smiled softly. "Thank you, Philip. It's lovely."

With closed eyes, Philip returned Caleb's expression as he felt the heavy burden of shame and regret that he once felt lifted from his back by his brother's smile. "You're quite welcome." He soon opened his eyes.

"Also, Caleb, if it's not too much trouble, could you let your cardinal know that I offer my deepest apologies to him? Admittingly, I wasn't the kindest to young Pancake the other day."

"That's not his... Alright, I'll let him know," Caleb said.

…

After breakfast had concluded, Beardo Philip was ready to return to his cave.

He smiled a small, somewhat gloomy smile.

"I... guess this is goodbye then...," Philip spoke as he sighed, his tone soft and tender as he turned to face Caleb while standing near the front door, now dressed in his blue coat.

The brunette did his best to avoid sounding too down about his departure.

Caleb reached out to pull Philip into a hug. "Remember, you're always welcome here. Don't be a stranger, now."

Philip's smile went soft as he hugged his brother back, happy to be in his caring and kind embrace. "I'll make sure to remember that, Caleb Clawthorne."

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befuddledcinnamonroll · 1 day ago

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QL Things That Made Me Happy in 2024

It's the end of the year, and people are doing a lot of cute things with superlatives and such, but with my limited bandwidth, I'm gonna keep it simple. Those who follow me know I am here to have a good time, and I like to focus on what brings me joy. 2025 is going to be a rough one, and I know I'm going to continue to need the QL space to help me emotionally cope, so if you'll indulge me, I want to just roll around in the good and the happy for a bit.

(Note, there is also a ton of 2024 content I did not have time to watch, so this does not capture everything good that happened this year!)

Diversity of Genre

Every year we're breaking a little bit more new ground! I'm particularly excited to be seeing more mystery/thriller, for both our BLs & GLs. Robots, vampires, animals turned human, and hopefully soon, mermen. We're getting weirder and wilder, and I am here for it.

Baby Steps in Representation

I know, I know, we all want it to get all better right now, but as someone in my fifth decade of life, I've also seen how small step after small step over the years can lead to huge changes. And in a world where a lot of people are trying to drag us backwards, it's important to keep pushing forward, and celebrate each successful step, even when it feels like it's not enough. (And keep advocating for more, of course!)

Continuing to Give Friendship Its Due

Amazing friend groups are fortunately a QL staple, and this year was no different. We got so much good friend representation this year!

Japan Being Japan

The very top at efficient story-telling, whether it be hitting your heart or tearing it apart.

Taiwan Being Taiwan

Never change Taiwan. Just keep feeding me, pretty please.

Acting Highlights

Wow, did we get some incredible performances this year. Way more than I can list here, but here's a few that came immediately to mind.

Special Mentions

ie stuff that didn't fit under one of the above categories.

A year of TayNew

Step one, be the absolute most in the cutest shit ever. Step two, queer up a found family story. Step three, celebrate owning 2024. (And we get more of them in 2025!)

Big getting his due

We've been chomping at the bit for a Big Thanakorn lead role for ages, and our man delivered! And we're gonna get more next year!

A win for creative independence

I've said it before and I'll say it again, I am so fucking proud of Yin and War. They did something incredibly difficult at great personal cost, and made something genuinely unique. Jack & Joker had a lot of layers, including a lot of cultural depth, along with social commentary. That kind of thing is always going to alienate some people, but that's part of what impressed me so much. If they wanted to make something to appeal to the most generic possible audience, they would have done it. They swung big, and made an impact, and I hope it opens up so much more opportunity for them.

When talent grows exponentially

One of my favorite things about having been into QL for a while now is getting to see actors grow and develop past their initial roles. Often the raw talent is there from the beginning, but as in all careers there is a benefit from experience, the right kind of support, and the right opportunities.

2 Moons 2 was a largely forgettable series that managed to land some unforgettable talent, and both Joong and Pavel were highlights. They've both done so well, but in this particular case, I need to rave about Joong's growth in his performance as Fadel. The entire cast is rocking it in Heart Killers, Dunk is also doing incredible, but I have such a soft spot for the boy I immediately fell for way back in my first year of BL, and seeing him steal scenes from some of my all time favorite GMMTV actors. Well done, bebe, well done.

In summary

This doesn't remotely encompass everything (I didn't even get to all the delightful spice from this year!), I am limited by time and image restrictions per post, but as always, I am so grateful to have discovered this arena of media and this space in which to squee about it, and I am endlessly grateful for the people in this space who bring positivity, nuance, grace, compassion, caring, open-mindedness, humility, and curiosity to my dash.

Happy New Year, y'all.

#bl series #ql series #thai bl #japanese bl #taiwanese bl

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simmerianne93 · 2 days ago

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[Simmerianne93]Xmas_poses_20

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Hello everyone!! How are you today??? How are you preparing for tomorrow??

I'm soooo glad to bring a last posepack this year.... I thought I wouldn't make it, but I have wanted to do some poses with sparkles for two years now and this year I said: I don't want to miss it, even if it's the last pack I make. And yes, that's right, it's the last one... for this year...

If I had unlimited time, I would bring many more pose packs because the ideas inside my head never end... but unfortunately, we only have 24 hours a day and of those 24 we have to divide them up to eat, sleep and take care of real life as well haha...

But hey, at least I managed to make this last pose pack so that those pixel families and the little ones in the house can celebrate, with a little sparkle, New Year's Eve...

BTW that last pose and the cover pic... is a little reference to the last save I have been playing and sharing on Bsky haha xD... I needed to do a pose for them... I needed to make them be in a cover pic yayyy... and the other poses were some ideas i had save, some from 2 years ago, some from last year... I'm really happy that I was able to finally made them...

I hope you like and enjoy this last pose pack of 2024!!

----------

What is on it?

2 Couple poses (2 adult sims)

1 Duo pose (1 adult + 1 toddler)

1 Groupal pose (2 adults + 2 toddlers)

1 Groupal pose (2 adults + 2 children)

1 Groupal pose 2 adults + 2 toddlers + 1 infant)

--- What do you need?

Andrew poses player.

Teleport any sim by Scumbumbo or Mccc by deaderpool.

Invisible infant mat replacement by mcrudd (OPTIONAL FOR INFANTS WHO HAVEN'T LEARN HOW TO SIT YET)

MellouwSim- NYE Sparkler (Left)_STIGMATA_FIXED (DOWNLOAD DOWN BELOW)

MellouwSim- NYE Sparkler (Right)_STIGMATA_FIXED (DOWNLOAD DOWN BELOW)

A fence.

A stone bench.

———

Instructions in the original post.

——

TOU

Do not claim my creations as your own.

Do not re-upload or modify my creations.

Do not make money of my creations.

Do not include my creations in Mods folders to download.

Please follow my Term Of Use.

——

Download it now here — [FREE FOR EVERYONE]

——————

If you want to support me: Patreon | Ko-fi

All my poses overview: Pinterest | Wix | Tumblr

More in-game preview pics of all my poses: Instagram

My socials: Twitter | BlueSky | Instagram | Tumblr

Lives and videos: Youtube

——————

I really hope you like them and I will say in advance: Thank you so much for using them.

@ts4-poses

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icecreampizzer · 1 day ago

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Happy new yuri to those who celebrate!!!! By which i mean CELEBRATE YURI RIGHT NOW. AND INTO THE NEW YEAR!! AND TO ALL THE YEARS TO COME

#original character #oc #gene ocs #gene art #ember valiant #desiree diaz #strictly professional #alakduke #Last drawin for the year teehee..

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pustotsvit · 2 days ago

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It's surreal, you know. To live at the time of the war. I'm sure those of you who has never faced a modern, full-scale invasion of the biggest European country will never comprehend the terrifying bizarreness of our existence.

Here I was walking the streets, just running some errands. Kharkiv is not as lively and crowded as it was up to the February '22, and it is now scarred and wounded. Everywhere you go there are remnants of the ruzzians' constant bombing.

Ruined civil buildings.

Eerie silhouettes of the unlit houses forsaken.

Bomb shelters or the directions on where to find the closest one.

Monuments for those who were murdered by ruzzians. Not putin. Not some selected few monsters wearing human skin. By thousands of ordinary ruzzians on and off our land.

And it's mental that when you walk these streets you are actually ready to die. You see the bright flashes lightening up the sky from time to time, though soundless, and you think calmly: "Oh, so we are under attack right now. Must be Iranian drones. Our heroes are taking them down, it seems. Hope I'm lucky to get to the metro before something falls on my head".

And you go on with your day. Under the sky cut with lightning-like slices meant to kill you for just existing. Breathing. Going outside to buy some cat food and see if the city is being decorated for the holidays.

For being Ukrainian.

I'm not sure that the western media covers these topics anymore.

"People are tired of you, you see".

"Just let them take whatever they want, we want to live the life we are used to, with ruzzians as our allies"

"It's only natural to become numb to your grief, it's been years"

"Every life taken is now statistic, not a separate human being".

"The gas prices rise, we'd rather sacrifice Ukraine to avoid that and shake putin's blooded hand"

"It's not our war. We might have taken all the nuclear and almost all conventional weaponry from Ukraine in exchange for the safety and protection guarantees, but who cares. Let's just pretend it never happened".

While the majority of the people were celebrating Christmas, we were under a massive attack. A very ruzzian congratulations. The best representation of their nature.

It's not the first time that happened. Every significant day of the year we know we will be bombed exceptionally persistent. I'm talking hundreds of missiles.

The more sacred the date, the better.

It's not the last time, either. Far from it.

These few days there is a glaringly obvious silence totally uncharacteristic for ruzzians at any ordinary day. And this is the worst.

Because we know what that means.

It means we are to not celebrate, but survive yet another New Year's Eve drowned in our blood.

It won't be on the front pages - our suffering is not merry and festive, not in the spirit of Christmas. No Jingle bells, just cries of pain and agony and loss. Too depressing. Too tiresome.

I just hope my family survives this year's end too. So I can post photos of Kharkiv as it wakes up in the spring.

And I wish you a happy New Year, celebrate it to the fullest for all of us - dead and alive. Listen to the original Ukrainian Carol of the Bells, hug your dearest and thank whoever or whatever you believe in for being blessed with a life of peace and quiet. Believe me - you are the lucky one.

#kharkiv #ukraine #genocide of ukrainians #christmas #new year #russians are responsible #cancel russia #russia is nazi #stop russia #russia attack #carol of the bells #український tumblr #укртамблер #харків

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incandescentia · 17 hours ago

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HAPPY NEW YEAR 2025!!!!!!

It's now actually 7 hours into the new year in my place and I'd like to say, thank you sticking with me through 2024.

This blog was made around more or less a year ago during the first month of 2024, so you could say that it'll be on its first anniversary around this timing. For the last one year, it's been a very eventful and meaningful return to Tumblr rp. In 2025, I'd like to have a resolution to reach out more to my mutuals and new people out there to write with (no pressure ofc), creating new meaningful stories and lores, and sparking some amazing interactions between our muses! Creative writing as a hobby helps a lot with my irl job, so improving in this aspect would also help me grow as a person too.

Good ol' special thank you for those who have allowed me to bother your muses with mine. It brings joy and fueling my creative energy to me as someone who loves to create OCs and expand them according to the tropes/ mythos / folklore I based them upon! ;w;

I wish you all a wonderful 2025 and year of the snake ahead of you! (I will return again with another greeting in Lunar New Year since I do celebrate it ig haha) May this year be a prosperous one for us.

#★ — 𝙗𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙠. ( ooc )

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supercorpkid · 24 hours ago

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New Year's Eve

Supergirl. Kara Danvers x Reader!, Alex Danvers, Nia Nal, Lena Luthor, Sam Arias.

Word Count: 2300.

Notes: Happy New Year guys!!

The regular alien bar is transformed tonight, a kaleidoscope of shimmering lights and metallic streamers draped across every surface. Music pounds against the walls, a steady rhythm that matches the buzz of celebration in the air. It’s New Year’s Eve, and you’re already regretting being late.

When you walk in, the scene hits you like a tidal wave: Nia is doubled over in laughter at Brainy, who’s gesturing wildly while explaining some incomprehensible science; Alex and Sam are in the middle of the dance floor, kissing like they’re starring in a rom-com; and Kara—beautiful, sweet, perfect Kara—is throwing back a shot with a determination you’d expect from her saving the world, not drinking alien liquor.

“What do you mean Kara is drunk?” you blurt, catching Nia at the bar.

“Drunk.” Nia spreads her arms with a dramatic flourish. “Ya girl is turnt.”

“Okay, try to keep it in your pants, Nia,” you joke, smirking at her giggles. But your eyes drift back to Kara, who just took two extra shots in the sheer second you took to evaluate the whole situation.

This is chaos.

You weave through the crowd, dodging a tipsy Brainy and narrowly avoiding Alex dragging Sam to get another drink. When you finally reach Kara, she’s beaming at you with that smile—so bright, so pure, it almost makes you forget she’s been downing shots like water.

“Hey, you!” she exclaims, her voice louder than usual. She lurches forward, throwing her arms around you with surprising precision. “You’re here! Finally!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. Having fun, aren’t we?” You steady her with a hand on her shoulder, your other hand ready to reach for a glass of water.

“I was, but now you’re here,” she hiccups, “and I’ll have even more!” Her grin is so wide it’s contagious, and her hands settle firmly on your waist, holding you close like she’s afraid you might disappear.

“How about we get you some water?” you suggest, trying to pull away, but her grip tightens—not painfully, just... insistently.

“No, no,” she protests, shaking her head with alarming seriousness. “That’ll make the alcohol go away!”

“That’s kind of the point, Kara.”

She pouts at you, those puppy-dog eyes nearly breaking your resolve. You almost cave—almost—but then Alex and Sam stumble past, laughing so hard they nearly take you out in the process. You sigh. Someone has to be the responsible one tonight.

“Well, I’d say all of you could use a little sobering up.” You turn to head to the bar for water, but Kara’s hands slide to your stomach, pulling you back. She looks up at you with wide, pleading eyes. While the hand in your stomach explores the very little strip of skin she can see. You shiver under her touch.

“I need to be drunk,” she whispers, like it’s the most serious thing in the world.

“What?” You blink, leaning closer to hear her over the noise. “Why?”

“It’s a secret.” Her fingers curl into the fabric of your shirt, her touch sending an unexpected coil down your stomach. “Can’t tell you yet.”

“Yet?”

She nods solemnly, then breaks into a hiccup-laden giggle. “Midnight.”

You stare at her, exasperated and intrigued in equal measure. “You’re waiting until midnight to tell me this big secret?”

Kara nods again, her face lighting up like she’s just solved a complex equation. “Yup. Midnight. You’ll see.”

“Fine,” you relent, though you have no idea what’s going on. “But you’re drinking water until then.”

She groans but doesn’t argue as you guide her to the bar. You’re determined to keep her coherent enough to survive the countdown. Whatever her secret is, it better be worth the suspense—and the chaos.

Just as you’re starting to wonder what on Earth—or any other planet—could justify this level of mystery, Lena strides into the bar. She’s immaculate as always, her tailored white dress glinting faintly in the club’s neon lights. She scans the room briefly before her eyes land on you and Kara. There’s a flash of recognition, and then Lena’s lips curve into a knowing smirk.

“Alright, alright, I’m here. Please don’t tell me I missed it,” she says as she approaches, her voice carrying a teasing lilt.

“Missed what?” you ask, your curiosity piqued. Kara, currently sitting down, clinging to your waist, face nuzzled on your stomach, separates her face long enough just to look up at Lena with a sheepish grin, her cheeks flushed—though you suspect it’s not just the alcohol.

Lena’s gaze flickers between the two of you, and for a moment, you’re sure she knows exactly what’s going on. “Missed what, Lena?” you press, frustration seeping into your voice.

Lena shrugs elegantly, then tilts her head toward the bar. “I need a drink,” she declares, clearly dodging your question. Before you can press further, she’s already turning away, leaving you simmering with unanswered questions.

You glance around the room, noticing how everyone seems to share these little glances, smirks, and half-hidden smiles whenever they look at you and Kara. Even Nia, now leaning heavily against Brainy, gives you a wink when she catches your eye.

They all know.

“Okay, seriously,” you mutter, leaning down so your face is level with Kara’s. “What’s the big secret? Everyone knows but me, and it’s driving me insane.”

Kara just grins up at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief and something softer, something warmer. “Midnight,” she repeats firmly, her tone leaving no room for negotiation. Her hands tighten briefly on your sides, grounding you in the moment. “You’ll see.”

But she keeps acting strange—even by her usual standards. At first, it was small things: the way her gaze darted to you and lingered a fraction too long before she’d quickly look away, like you’d catch her in the act of thinking something she shouldn’t. Or the way she kept fumbling through her words whenever someone brought up New Year’s resolutions, shifting uncomfortably in her chair like she had something on the tip of her tongue but couldn’t bring herself to say it.

As the night progresses, though, it becomes more intense. There's a charged energy in the way she's been hovering around you, close enough that the warmth of her presence starts to cloud your thoughts, leaving you unable to think about anything except her. Her fingers trace patterns on your skin, and her hands seem unwilling to be away from your body, even for a minute.

She’s been like that all night—dodging questions, throwing out half-smiles that don’t quite reach her eyes, and looking at you like you’re some kind of puzzle she’s too afraid to solve.

As midnight approaches, you’ve basically given up on sobering any of these buffoons up. Alex literally called you a party pooper when you handed her water instead of plain vodka. Lena, with her impeccable timing and sharp wit, whined dramatically about her whiskey, claiming she had to make up for lost time since she got here late. And Kara—well, Kara and her stupid secret and her stubborn insistence on staying drunk have made it clear that no amount of coaxing will change her mind tonight.

Your resolve to play babysitter dissolves entirely when J’onn and M’gann arrive, stepping into the bar with their calm, composed presence. J’onn gives you a subtle nod, like he already knows the chaos he’s walking into and is ready to take over, and M’gann seems to dive straight into the party spirit, grabbing Nia for a dance. Relief floods through you. They can take over as the responsible adults in the room now.

You decide to let go, just a little. Maybe this doesn’t have to be your problem. The countdown looms close and Kara even closer, and while part of you itches to storm out in protest of the sheer ridiculousness of it all, another part of you wonders if this night might hold something you didn’t expect.

It’s Kara’s drunken laugh that pulls your focus back to her. As she laughs—tipsy and exuberant—it reverberates against your chest, the sound warm and unrestrained, like a soft hum that seems to echo through you. The sensation catches you off guard, grounding you even as the world spins chaotically around you.

She’s been watching you, her expression somewhere between guilty and hopeful. Her hand brushes yours, lingering for a second longer than necessary before she pulls away, her smile frustratingly sweet—the kind that makes your heart lurch even when you want to be mad at her.

“Almost time!” Sam sing-songs while passing you and Kara on her way to the bar.

You let out a frustrated sigh, stepping back to put some space between you and that infuriatingly adorable grin. “No more games,” you say firmly, pressing a finger onto her chest. “If you don’t tell me right now, I’m walking out that door, and I won’t even stick around for the countdown.”

Her smile wavers, panic flashing across her face. “What? You have to stay for the countdown! It’s— It's important!”

"Why?”

“Cause it's New Year’s tradition!”

You fold your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Tradition can take a back seat to my sanity. Spill it, Danvers, or I’m as good as gone.”

Kara’s gaze flickers to Lena, who is sitting at the bar, perfectly composed with a glass of whiskey in hand. Lena raises an eyebrow at Kara, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at her lips.

“Don’t look at me,” Lena says, swirling her drink. “It’s your secret. You're going to tell her later, anyway.”

Kara groans, dragging her hands down her face dramatically before glancing back at you. “Fine. Fine!” she relents, her voice muffled through her hands. Then she drops them, looking at you with a mix of sheepishness and determination. “But you have to promise you won’t laugh.”

You roll your eyes. “No promises.”

She hesitates, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. Her eyes dart nervously around the room, as if she’s considering bolting. Finally, she steps closer, her voice dropping just enough to make your heart skip. “I needed to get drunk because…”

She glances at Lena one more time, and Lena’s smirk turns into a full-blown grin. “Just say it! You're killing us all with this secret, Kara.” Lena says, tipping her glass in a mock toast.

Kara takes a deep breath, clearly bracing herself. “Because I was trying to work up the courage to tell you something.”

Your arms drop to your sides, confusion knitting your brow. “That’s it? You needed liquid courage? Kara, I thought you were invincible.”

“I am invincible!” she insists, puffing her chest out for half a second before slumping again. “Except when it comes to this.”

Her gaze locks onto yours, and you’re suddenly hyper-aware of how close she’s standing.

“This what?” you ask, your voice softening as the rest of the room seems to fade into the background.

“This,” she says, her hands finding your waist again, but this time, her touch is different—steadier, more deliberate. “You.”

Your heart stumbles in your chest. “Me?”

“I like you,” Kara blurts, her voice trembling with vulnerability. “Not just as a friend—I mean, like like you. I’ve been trying to figure out how to say it, and I thought… Maybe tonight, with a little help, I’d finally find the courage.”

The music around you swells, signaling that the countdown is about to start. Ten seconds. The room erupts into a chorus of voices, counting down in unison, but all you can hear is Kara’s confession echoing in your ears.

Ten.

You blink at her, your brain scrambling to catch up. “Kara…”

“I get it if you don’t feel the same,” she says quickly, her words tumbling over each other. “I just— I'm just so in love with you.”

Nine.

Her hands drop from your waist, and for a second, you see the flash of panic in her eyes, like she thinks she’s ruined everything.

Eight.

You’re not entirely sure what happens next—it’s instinct, pure and overwhelming. You grab her by the collar of her shirt, pulling her down to meet your lips in a kiss that’s both clumsy and warm, dizzying — perfect in all its imperfections.

Seven.

Six.

Five

Four.

The room explodes into cheers, the countdown forgotten as people whistle and clap around you.

Three.

Kara pulls back, her face lit up like the New Year’s fireworks outside. “Wait, does this mean you're in love with me too?”

You laugh, resting your forehead against hers. “You’re ridiculous.”

Two.

“Is that a yes?” she teases, grinning so wide it feels like the entire room is brighter.

“Yes, Kara,” you say, your voice soft but certain. “It’s a yes.”

One.

The clock strikes midnight, and while everyone else celebrates the New Year, Kara kisses you again—soft, sweet, and full of promise.

"Happy New Year, baby."

“This is going to be the best year of my life!”

“Of our lives.”

Behind you, someone—probably Alex—lets out a loud whoop, followed by a round of teasing catcalls. “About time!” Nia shouts, raising her glass in a toast.

You pull back, cheeks burning, but Kara doesn’t let you go far. Her arms loop around you, holding you close as she beams at the room, entirely unbothered by the attention. “Happy New Year, everyone!” she calls, her voice cutting through the noise like a ray of sunshine.

You laugh, burying your face in her shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re stuck with me now.” she replies, pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

“And for evermore.”

As the celebration carries on around you, you let yourself relax into her embrace. The night might have started in chaos, but it’s ending in a way you never expected—wrapped in Kara’s arms, her confession still echoing in your mind, and the promise of something wonderful ahead.

#supergirl #kara danvers #kara x reader #lena luthor #reader insert #alex danvers #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl imagine #nia nal #supergirl cw #kara zor el

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oldtvandcomics · 2 years ago

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Rabbit is armed and ready to go.

I missed out on the big tiger drawing last year, so I’m making doubly sure to participate for the rabbits.

Also, killer rabbits! Never miss an opportunity to draw a killer rabbit!

#my art #Lunar New Year #Happy New Year for those who celebrate it now!#let's hope that the rabbit is going to use all its murderous potential to protect instead of harm #Year of the Rabbit #2023 #Killer Rabbit #black paper

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tojisun · 5 months ago

Text

the apple that rolled over to the tree

!! fluff; f!reader; parenthood!!; simon-centric hehe >:3 // divider by @/plutism!

there is a… kid attached to your hip when simon returns home from a mission, his exhausted body stumbling into the kitchen where he finds you and it.

“what—”

he can’t even fathom the emotion coursing through him at the moment, what with shock triumphing over everything. still, you’d probably need to give him credit for not losing his goddamn mind at seeing a whole child — he couldn’t have been more than two years old with how he’s only three apples tall — clinging to you like a baby koala.

“oh my god, you’re back!” you squeal, unfazed at how dumbfounded your fiance has become, before shuffling close to embrace him.

simon reciprocates the hug anyway.

you step back, your lips still wobbling in your tears as you stare up at him, all awed like you couldn’t believe that he was back and simon wishes he can press his promises to your lips because he will always find a way to come back, he swears on his life, but also—

the child.

“sweetheart?” he begins, soft as to not spook you or the kid. “who’s, uh, who’s that?”

the child shifts, turning his little face from where it was burrowed onto your neck at the sound of simon’s voice. he rests his head on your clavicle, smooshing his already chubby cheek, before the biggest brown eyes that simon’s ever seen stare up at him, all doe-eyed and jarringly innocent, and simon, he—

well, not even babysitting tommy’s kids prepared him for this.

“this is yasha,” you murmur, pulling simon’s attention back to you. “or yakov, or james if he would want an english name.”

the boy reacts to you calling his name, and simon watches as those curious eyes tip up at you in question. you swipe your finger over his nose, the little thing scrunching up at the ticklish feeling, and simon becomes breathless at seeing the unadulterated joy in your face.

it is all parts soft and tender, but also anxious and worried, and simon begins to puzzle out the pieces.

“he’s my foster child. or ours, i guess, now that you’re here.” your voice is so fragile as you reply to him, your hand now beginning to rub soothing nothings on the boy’s back. simon wonders if it’s more to calm yourself down than it is to comfort the boy.

your lips purse, hesitating, and simon waits because while he he’s pieced out what you want to ask, he knows that this is something you would want to truly talk to him about. it is something he knows you have mustered up the courage to bring up so he gives it to you, open and ready, and he hopes that his face and his gait show that whatever it is you would want to say, simon will always support you no matter what.

“si?” you begin, looking heart-wrenchingly small in your worry. “i think i wanna adopt him.”

simon hums, stepping close but also being careful not to crowd yasha, before he curls his arms around you two — his family — and nuzzles his face on your other shoulder. “i’d love that.”

he offers you a smile, and squeezes your arm in comfort, then he watches as the tears come, easily springing up from your eyes. yasha startles, whirling to look up at his mother in worry. simon’s throat constricts at the thought of you being a mother and him, a father; how, now, there is someone else for simon to come home to. someone to fight for.

jesus. he’d need to tell the lads and maybe get wasted as a celebration.

“owies?” yasha asks, chubby fist balling your shirt.

“they’re happy tears, sweetie pie,” you reply, crooning. “i’m just so, so happy.”

yasha hums, nodding, probably already distracted, and simon takes that time to straighten back up. he pushes your hair away from your face, before he pitches forward to press a kiss on your forehead.

yeah, he’s happy too.

yasha gets spoiled, not that simon’s complaining given that he’s been the one doing all the spoiling.

“really, si? a new toly?” you ask, arms crossed over your chest in your exasperation.

toly or anatoly, or tory because yasha still can’t speak properly, is the name that yasha gave to all of his new stuffed toys. it all started with a dog plush that simon bought from the supermarket on a whim and gave to the boy. it was laughably quick how yasha had abandoned his blocks to make grabby hands to the toy, before squealing out that name.

the next stuffed toy that yasha received, which was just the softest and roundest penguin plush toy that simon’s ever seen, was also named toly. so was that teddy bear you bought for him. or that reindeer he got for christmas. somehow, every single one had been named toly.

the only thing you and simon can find about toly was that anatoly means sunrise. simon was so sure it was the russian word for animal, because why else would yasha repeat it, but who would have thought that their little fish is so imaginative?

like, of course he’s going to name all of his toys toly because they are as warm as sunrises. see? smart kid.

but this one, this new toly, set off world records. it was a camel plush that simon saw at the airport when he was out, pretending to be a civilian.

(garrick had been assigned with him for that mission, and was quick to spot and mention simon’s on-duty purchase.

“it’s for my boy,” he grunted in reply, forgetting the fact that he’s yet to truly break the news to his squad. garrick had never looked as surprised, and next thing simon knew, the news made its way to their group chat.

price was amiable about the whole thing. mactavish? not so much.

he just about begged to see a picture of yasha — “and yer girl again, if you wouldn’t mind.” — or even visit him. then he invited garrick to come and price invited himself too, so now the guys are going to swing by some time soon.)

when simon gave it to yasha, their boy had stared at it for a solid minute — simon counted — before screaming and then running to snatch the toy from simon’s hold. he hugged the camel close to his person, his little head nuzzling against the plush face of the camel, all the while absolutely vibrating in unabashed excitement.

he picked up thundering footsteps and turned around just enough to see you literally slide into the room. yasha continued to hug the camel, ignorant of the distress he caused, while you looked on in your panic, buzzing with worry because you just heard your boy scream, damn it!

“he’s fine, bub,” simon said before you could ask, and he watched as you came down from your frenzy, your breathing slowing down at the rationalization that if simon was not panicked, then everything’s alright.

then, your eyes landed on the new stuff toy.

“really?” you asked.

in his defence, yasha adores camel-toly.

in your defence, yasha’s room is running out of space for his tolys.

…well, simon does have all that military money. gonna have to spend it on something else, right?

[charlie foxtrot]

sriley: link

john2: ????

sriley: new address.

garry: oh? congratulations.

sriley: thanks.

johnp: 👍

yasha was shy when saying hi to price, then outright cried when he saw mactavish, which made simon bark out loud in laughter. yasha only stopped sniffling when he saw kyle. in no time, yasha absolutely adored garrick to the point that he would not even let him go.

dinner was prepared and while you called them all to eat, simon ambled out of the kitchen, where he had been helping you, and walked towards kyle and yasha to pick up his son and seat him on his high chair. but yasha had only looked at him, his head tilted in question, before ignoring simon and clinging onto kyle.

hell, he had even let go of camel-toly so that he could use two chubby fists to hold onto kyle. surprised, simon didn’t even know how to react and watched as his sergeant offered him an apologetic smile before carrying his son to the dining room. kyle rounded the table and sat yasha on his high chair, only, yasha made a scene when kyle did so, and he released a lungful of screams and cries, breaking everyone’s eardrums and their hearts.

kyle stood there, worried and confused, and hovered because he did not know what to do. hell, none of them did, and then you walked out of the kitchen, rushing to yasha, and hummed songs to comfort your son.

you crooned when he made grabby hands to be picked up and you did so with no hesitation, your touch soothing the boy into quiet sniffles. but even then, yasha wouldn’t settle down as he wriggled in your arms, short limbs reaching for—

simon glowered.

yasha was reaching for kyle. you were quick to giggle, asking kyle if it was alright that yasha would eat with him, and simon had glared at his sergeant, daring him to deny their son of anything, before reluctantly nodding his approval at kyle’s happy trill of, “of course, ma’am!”

yasha had finally calmed down when you sat him on kyle’s lap, and his boy was even polite enough to actually eat his soft veggies every time kyle beckoned him to open his mouth for a new spoonful.

simon did not startle, but it was close, when your hand landed on his thigh.

“you okay, baby?” you asked, eyes furrowed in your worry.

“yeah,” he remembers replying with, his throat all choked-up because he knows yasha must be excited to have new people to play with, but still, there was something that stung when his boy chose garrick over him.

not that it was kyle’s fault because he is a dear for even doing all that he did for yasha, but simon had hoped that he would always be yasha’s favourite.

too lost in his thoughts, simon had almost missed yasha’s call.

“-ddy? daddy?” yasha asked, startling simon.

it was not the first time yasha called him that, but every time he did, it never fails to make simon melt.

“yeah? what’s up, buddy?”

simon pretended that no one was watching the interaction.

yasha giggled, hiding his food-smeared lips behind his little palms, before turning to use garrick’s front to hide from simon. you snorted, murmuring to kyle how you swear you would wash his shirt before they go, but it’s all buzz to simon because his son — his darling boy — wanted to play with him during dinner.

yasha peeked at him again, before giggling once more when he caught simon’s eyes. this continued on until dinner ended, with simon occasionally miming growling monsters to induce more hearty giggles from his son, and being rewarded with the happiest laughter ever.

simon turned to you, with his heart on his throat, and beamed.

“aww,” mactavish sang from somewhere beside him. “ain’t that adorable— argh!”

simon had swung his arm out and thumped his fist on johnny’s stomach. thank god, yasha had chosen that time to hide his face again on kyle’s stomach.

“unca’ john?” yasha asks in a stage-whisper because everyone within earshot just heard him even with his attempt to be quiet. it’s only their training that stopped simon from acting like he’s noticed.

“yeah, bubsy?” john replies, sounding so utterly soft that this version of him is so foreign to simon.

“this tory,” yasha says and simon discreetly peeks to see which toly is being introduced to uncle john — it’s the elephant one.

price gasps theatrically like he hadn’t seen yasha drool all over this elephant toy before, and puffs out, “how cute!”

“mhmm,” yasha says, nodding, then smacks the face of the toy on john’s face. the trunk smooshes against john’s nose, and thank god that elephant-tory is soft because that aim would have been lethal if it wasn’t.

“jesus—” price gasps out.

“language!” simon hisses, and ducks his head back down just before yasha could catch him peeking.

yasha is now four and he still gets teary eyed when he sees johnny. simon placates his friend and says it’ll pass soon. maybe.

basically, i wanted to write a fic wherein simon’s reaction to being presented with a child is “what— oh okay, sure why not” and (literally in 20 minutes) “i will kill everything for this child” and so here we are

a simon spinoff - it takes a rampage (to be a dad)

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley fluff #simon riley #simon riley x reader #suns

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wheresarizona · 29 days ago

Text

but he’s the one I want

summary: All you needed was to see if your dad’s friend, Joel, had a spare key to your father’s house. Instead, you get railed within an inch of your life on Joel’s couch.

His brown eyes squeeze shut. “Lord help me,” he says under his breath. A second passes, and then he’s looking at you. “Fuck it—I’m already goin’ to hell.” Joel’s large palms grab your face, pulling you in to crush his lips against yours, muffling your surprised sound.

pairing: DBF!Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller/College Student f!reader (no physical descriptions)

rating: E (18+!!! No y/n, DBF!Joel Miller, slightly possessive Joel Miller, pre-Outbreak, age gap, explicit consent, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, dirty talk, size kink, praise kink, spit as lube, overstimulation, sex on stairs, body worship, slight body insecurity, getting caught, misunderstandings, angst with a happy ending, Die Hard is a Christmas movie debate)

word count: 11.5k+

a/n: Alexa, play “But Daddy I Love Him” by Taylor Swift. I don’t know where this came from (daddy issues), but I hope you enjoy it! Reader is freshly 21 in my head, Joel is 35 (it’s months before his birthday), and Tommy is 29. Let me know what you think! Big shoutout to @devineconjuring for going on this journey with me and betaing!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Main Masterlist

Knock, knock, knock.

It’s a Friday night; the sky is dark, but the porch light is on. You hug your jacket a little closer to your body to stave off the chill in the air as you wait outside the front door for someone to answer it. A masculine voice calls out, "Comin’!" Footsteps thud on the hardwood floor as they head your way.

Seconds later, the door is cracked open, and you’re met with the home’s owner, Joel Miller. Just the sight of him in his jeans and navy blue t-shirt has your heart rate picking up in speed, the man looking as handsome as ever.

His eyebrows furrow in confusion when he sees you.

"Hey," he greets. "What are you doin' here? Shouldn't you be in school?"

University of Houston—go, Cougars!

You smile. "Three-day weekend—I have Monday off. I thought I'd surprise my dad since it's his birthday."

The confused look doesn’t disappear. "I coulda sworn he told me they were goin' to Vegas to celebrate a few days ago." ‘They’ being your father, stepmother, and your teenage half-brother.

“Well, I guess it slipped his mind to tell me they were going out of town. He must be getting forgetful in his old age.”

The relationship you have with your father is… complicated. It’s not bad by any means—you get along and love each other. He just wasn’t very present when you were growing up—he lived in Austin while you were with your mom in Houston, only seeing him a few times per year. Now that you have a car and your mom moved out of state last year with her new husband, you occasionally made the three-hour drive to your dad’s to visit and do your laundry free of charge. It was also where you now stayed on your breaks from school.

Joel opens the door a little wider and crosses his arms over his chest, your eyes moving from his face to admire the broadness in his shoulders and the muscles in his forearms. Having his full attention on you makes the nerves in your belly flutter around like a bunch of butterflies were let loose.

“He’s not much older than me,” Joel says. His eyebrow lifts. “Are you callin’ me old?”

The man in question happens to be one of your father’s best friends—or so you’ve been told. In all of the visits to your dad’s growing up, you could count the number of times you saw Joel on one hand. Over the past year that you’ve been coming to Austin regularly, you’ve had much more interaction with him, which has led to you developing a little bit of a crush. Who can blame you, though? He’s gorgeous—the chocolate-colored eyes, the hair that looks so soft, that perfect nose, and those kissable lips.

“If the shoe fits,” you reply with a shrug and a smile.

“Kids these days,” Joel grumbles under his breath, shaking his head. “Did you come by just to call me old?” he asks.

“Oh, no. I was expecting at least one person to be at my dad’s, so I didn’t bother bringing my house key. I’m here to see if you possibly have a spare I could borrow—I would’ve called, but I don’t have your number.”

Maybe he’d give it to you now…

“I’m sorry, darlin’, I don’t.”

Hot and a sweetheart—how is he single? Is he single?

You frown, feeling annoyed that you drove all this way to Austin for no reason. You should’ve called ahead, but that was your mistake, assuming your family would stay in town for your father’s birthday. “This was a waste of gas,” you muse. “Love that for me. Well, it looks like I’m heading home, or maybe I’ll get a cheap motel room. Thanks anyway, Joel. Have a nice rest of your night!” You do a little wave at him.

You start to turn, but stop when he says, “Wait,” and you face him again. He opens the door wider. “It’s too late for you to be drivin’ all that way, and there’s no reason you should pay for a motel when I’ve got a guest room you can stay in. You can get a good night's sleep and leave tomorrow mornin’ when the sun’s shinin’.”

Again, a sweetheart—why hasn’t anyone snatched him up? Or have they?

“Are you sure?” you ask.

He finally offers you a friendly smile and moves to open the door all the way. “Yeah, it’s no problem. I was feelin’ lonely anyway with Sarah gone at a sleepover. It’ll be nice to have some company that isn’t my brother.”

Lonely? Nice to have some company? That sounds pretty single to you. Your night just got a lot more interesting. “Thank you so much! I’ll do my best to be better company than your brother.”

With that, you make your way inside, toeing off your shoes next to a pair of his work boots.

“That won’t be too hard,” Joel says as he shuts the door.

You stop in the entryway because you’re not quite sure where you should be going since you've never actually been inside his house. You only know where he lives because your father once asked you to drop something off here.

“Let me get your coat and bag.” You hand him your small purse, and he moves behind you, helping as you shrug off the long jacket you’re wearing, which he hangs up on a nearby coat hook with your bag. “Oh.” He stops in his tracks, and you look at him, seeing his widened eyes staring at your body. “Were you plannin’ on goin’ out tonight?”

You glance down at your outfit, and you can understand why he’d make that assumption at the sight of the cute little black dress you’re wearing—it only reaches mid-thigh and has a V-neckline to show off your breasts.

“Not going out—it’s laundry day. I do my laundry when I come to Austin, and this was literally the last clean thing I had.” Your eyes lift to see his glued to your chest, and you think that’s an interesting development. “I have spare clothes I keep at my dad’s that I planned on changing into.”

It’s the truth, and you’re a little thankful this was your last clean outfit. You can only imagine how embarrassing it would’ve been coming over here in a ratty old T-shirt, granny panties, and your Spongebob Squarepants pajama pants.

He clears his throat and looks away. A rosy blush appears on his cheeks as he scratches at the back of his neck. “I can put my jacket back on,” you tell him, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable.

“No, no.” He meets your gaze, offering a reassuring smile. “It’s fine—do you need to use my washer and dryer?”

“You’re already being nice, letting me stay over. I can wash my clothes at the laundromat when I get home.”

“It’s really no big deal.”

“Thank you, but I’m good.”

“Okay.” His hands go in his pockets, and he seems to get very interested in the short console table against the wall, staring at the contents lying atop it—a stack of unopened mail and what you assume are his keys and wallet.

“So, what were you doing before I interrupted your evening?”

“Oh—” He looks at you again. “—I was watchin’ a movie. Would you like to join me?”

You smile. “Sure—lead the way.”

He takes you to the living room, where a movie is paused on the television, and lets you know you can sit anywhere. Your choices are one of two armchairs and a maroon leather sofa, and you choose the sofa while he heads for the kitchen.

“Would ya like a beer?” he calls out on his way to the other room. He doesn’t give you a chance to respond because a second later, he’s back at the doorway to the living room with a confused expression again. “Wait, are you old enough to drink…?”

The question makes you smile. “Yes, Joel. I’m old enough to drink.”

“Legally…?”

You giggle. “Yes. I can legally drink. You wanna card me?”

“No.” He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Beer?”

“Sounds great.”

“Okay.” He nods.

As you sit on the couch waiting, you become very aware of the situation you’re in. You’ve spoken to Joel one-on-one a handful of times over the last year, but it always happened at a barbecue or a holiday party—places where there were other people around—you’ve never been alone with Joel. This is new territory, and you’re not entirely sure what to expect, especially considering how he was staring at your chest.

Would you fuck him if given the chance? Yes, zero hesitation. Do you think you have a chance with him? Maybe, and that thrills you. Just two things are working against you: your age and the fact he’s your father’s best friend. Those are two hurdles you’re not entirely sure how to get over, but you’re definitely game to try.

Your conversations were always friendly in the past, and you’re proud to say you’ve made him laugh a few times. You think you could possibly charm him. What you know for sure is he’ll need to be very aware that you’re interested; otherwise, he won’t even fathom trying anything with you—thank god you’re wearing this dress. Nerves are swirling in your tummy at what could happen tonight, and you’re eager to see where things go.

Joel returns with two open bottles of beer, handing you one, and you thank him as he takes a seat right next to you. He leans forward to grab the remote and hits play before sitting back and taking a drink.

He’s so close to you that you get a whiff of his cologne—it has a spiciness to it and some citrusy notes that, when combined, smell amazing. It makes you think he took a shower when he got home from work today—and, suddenly remembering he’s a contractor, you imagine him shirtless and sweaty while using a hammer. The thought causes your mouth to go dry, so you lift your bottle to your lips for a sip, focusing on the TV.

It’s easy to figure out what he’s watching when you see Josh Hartnett in clothes from the 1940s.

“Pearl Harbor?” you ask, now holding your drink on your lap, picking at the label with your fingernail.

“Yeah.” His head turns your way, his beer resting on his thigh. “Have you seen it?”

Meeting his eyes, you answer, “Oh, yeah.”

He frowns. “Because it’s a girly movie?”

“Um, kinda? The guys are pretty easy on the eyes, and the story is interesting. I wouldn't say it’s super girly. Sure, it’s a romance, but there’s so much action and drama about the war in it.”

“The back of the DVD said nothin’ about it bein’ a romance.”

“Are you enjoying it, at least?” you ask.

He sighs and looks back at the television. “Yeah, I am.”

“Then enjoy it! If anyone asks what we watched, I’ll tell them Die Hard.” You lightly pat his thigh closest to you, feeling the muscles tense under your palm.

His gaze returns to you. “You’ve seen Die Hard?”

“Yes. A few times.”

Because it’s your dad’s favorite movie.

His upper body slightly turns your way, his arm going behind you on the couch. The closeness and the attention he’s giving you make your skin heat.

“I want you to settle somethin’ my brother Tommy and I disagree on—have you met Tommy?”

“Once.” At a barbecue. He didn’t catch your attention like Joel did. “What am I settling?”

“Do you think Die Hard is a Christmas movie?”

“What…?”

“Tommy is fuckin’ convinced that Die Hard is a Christmas movie, and I say it’s just another action flick. A good one, but definitely not a Christmas movie.”

It takes you a second to process what he asked.

“I mean,” you start, “it takes place on Christmas Eve, at a Christmas party, and I’d say it’s a Christmas miracle that John McClane happened to be there to save the day. So, yeah, it’s totally a Christmas movie.”

“You’re fuckin’ with me. Just ‘cause it takes place on Christmas Eve at a Christmas party doesn’t mean it’s a Christmas movie.”

You point the neck of your beer at him. “You forgot John McClane being a Christmas miracle. Makes sense to me that it’s a Christmas movie.”

He takes a deep breath. “So, are you tellin’ me that—what the fuck is that movie called?” His eyes leave you as he thinks, trying to remember the name. “Lethal Weapon!” He looks at you again. “So, you’re tellin’ me that Lethal Weapon would also be a Christmas movie? Have you seen that one?”

Yep, with your father.

“I have, and yeah, it’s a Christmas movie. You’ve got drug dealers using a Christmas tree business as a front, Christmas is mentioned all throughout, they use a bunch of Christmas songs, and it ends at Christmas dinner. Absolutely a Christmas movie.”

“Say you’re messin’ with me, darlin’. You know what a Christmas movie is, right?

“Yeah, you’ve got the heavy hitters—It’s a Wonderful Life, A Christmas Story, A Christmas Carol—then those stop-motion ones that are delightful. I’d put Die Hard and Lethal Weapon in the same category as Home Alone.”

“Why the hell do you think Home Alone is a Christmas movie?”

“It’s set during the holiday season, and there’s a ton of Christmas imagery and music. Plus, you’ve got Kevin going on a similar journey as the main character in It’s a Wonderful Life where, in the end, he realizes how much he loves and needs his family—sounds pretty Christmas-y to me.”

His jaw clenches, and it’s seconds before he inhales deeply and looks back at the TV.

“Son of a bitch,” he sighs, shaking his head. “They’re fuckin’ Christmas movies.” He takes a long drink of his beer.

You grin. “They are indeed,” you reply and pat his thigh again.

His bottle lowers, and he looks over at you. “Even though you somehow made a dumbass like Tommy make sense, you’re definitely better company than him. He’d never let me live this down.”

He’s visibly relaxed, and you have, too. The fact he’s enjoying you being there has calmed your nerves, and you’re having a great time talking to him. Plus, he’s nice to look at.

“Then it’ll be our secret,” you say. “Like how we’re totally watching Die Hard right now, and not—” Your eyes go to the TV, and they widen. “—the one sex scene in Pearl Harbor.” It’s nothing too risque and honestly kind of lame.

Joel looks, too. “They’re just rollin’ around on the ground…”

“It’s PG-13, Joel. I don’t know what you’re expecting from a movie where they can only say fuck once, and titties are prohibited.”

His head turns your way. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he says, and when your eyes land on his, you find that he’s smiling—your heart skips a beat.

“A good something or a bad something?”

“A good somethin’.”

You share his expression. “You’re something else, too.”

“A good somethin’ or a bad somethin’?”

“A very good something.”

His eyes darken, and suddenly, his attention returns to the movie. Joel clears his throat, then chugs the rest of his beer, leaning forward to set the empty bottle on the coffee table.

When he sits back, his arm is still behind you on the top of the couch, and he scoots the tiniest bit your way to have your bodies touching.

It’s clear that there’s a shift to the energy in the room, and the tension becomes palpable—he likes you, and you think there’s a possibility he more than likes you with how close he is. The thought has your heart pounding, and you’re unsure what to do next. You’ve only been with boys your own age, and Joel is so much older and more experienced.

The panic has you blurting out, “Are you seeing anyone?” Then, backpedaling, “Not that it’s any of my business, so don’t feel obligated to answer.”

He looks at you, and you keep staring at the TV, almost wishing the floor would swallow you whole.

“Why do you wanna know?”

“I’m nosy.”

He huffs in amusement. “You only wanna know ‘cause you’re nosy?”

“That’s what I said.”

“No other reason?”

“Can’t think of any.”

“Okay—no, I’m not seein’ anyone. What about you? You got a boy back in Houston worryin’ about you?”

“Nope.”

“Really?” The genuine surprise in his voice has your head turning to see the matching expression.

“What’s so shocking about that?”

He frowns. “I beg your pardon, darlin’. It just doesn’t make much sense that someone as pretty and fun as you doesn’t have a line of boys waitin’ their turn to take you out.”

Those butterflies in your stomach are flapping around again.

“Not really.” You shrug. “Plus, the guys my age usually only want sex but aren’t very, um, giving, if you know what I mean.”

Now he looks grumpy. “Selfish boys,” he grumbles, and it makes you smile.

“So, not an issue with someone older like you. Good to know.” You squeeze his thigh and keep speaking so he can’t reply, “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you single?”

For some reason, he can’t look at you now, focusing on your hand. He reaches across his body to grab yours with his larger one, staring at your fingers. He lets out a long, weary sigh, his thumb rubbing against each of your dark blue-painted fingernails.

“Women don’t particularly like that Sarah is the most important person in my life and my top priority…”

“But she’s your daughter, she should be your top priority.”

“That’s the logic, but they want me all to themselves and don’t like sharing.”

“Joel?”

His face lifts to meet your gaze.

“Yeah?”

“You’ve dated some truly shitty women.”

He smiles. “I guess I have. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve given up on datin’. It’s just a waste of time.”

“That is such a shame.”

His dark eyes get even darker. “You’re trouble.”

“Why am I trouble?”

His eyebrow arches. “Your daddy would kill me.”

Your brain short-circuits for a second as you take in the statement—he’s into you, he’s really into you. Now, what are you going to do?

“Don’t you remember, Joel?” you ask and move to put your beer on the table. When you sit back, you cuddle a little closer into his side. “You were worried about me driving home in the dark, so you offered me your guest room—we watched Die Hard, then turned in for the night. You’re a stand-up guy for keeping your friend’s daughter safe.”

His eyes move from yours to your mouth, his hand coming up to cradle the side of your face—his palm is so big his fingertips almost reach the back of your head. He starts leaning in, your heart hammering in your chest at the thought that he’s going to kiss you, and you stop breathing when his lips are only a hair’s breadth away from yours.

And then he pauses.

“Tell me why you really came here tonight,” he rasps.

That confuses you, your brows pulling together, and you sit back to see his face. “I did? I needed to see if you had a spare key to my dad’s house.”

His eyes are on yours. “Bullshit—there’s no way this just happened to be the last outfit you had.” He looks directly at your tits.

“It is if you wait super last minute to do your laundry, and I told you, I have other clothes at my dad’s. Why do you think I came over here?”

His gaze goes back to yours. “With that dress you’re wearin’ and how you keep lookin’ at me, for a lot more than needin’ a key.”

“You thought I came over here to seduce you…?”

“Yeah…?”

“Wow.” You gently pat his cheek. “You think I’m way bolder than I actually am—me coming here and the outfit was not premeditated.” You shake your head.

His eyes round, and you’d think he was burned by how quickly his hand leaves you and how he moves away a little to put space between you. “Fuck, have I been readin’ this wrong?”

You scoot to have yourself against him again. “The assumption I came here specifically to seduce you was very wrong. But you’re right that I definitely want you to fuck me, Joel.”

“Shit,” he breathes out and scrubs a palm over his face. “You’re gonna get me in so much trouble.”

Turning his way, you rub your hand along his jeans-covered thigh. “No, I’m not,” you tell him. “Stop thinking, and kiss me.”

His hand lowers. “Not thinkin’ is gonna get me killed.”

“Not thinking is going to get you a blow job and pussy.” You press your palm between his legs over where you can feel he’s already hardening. “Hell, I’ll sweeten the deal—you can come anywhere you want.”

His eyes go wide. “Jesus Christ,” he whispers, and you smile. His reaction makes you brave.

“Tell me you don’t want this, and we’ll go back to watching the movie and pretend nothing happened. Or—and I like this option more—you kiss me, and we’ll go as far as you’re willing to go.” Your hand moves up to hold his cheek, and it’s a good sign when he leans into your touch as you stare into his eyes. “But I’m going to make myself crystal clear, Joel. I want you—badly. You’re beyond sexy, and the fact you’re older and have a lot more experience than me is a big turn-on. I’d love to know what good sex is like for once and maybe have you teach me some things.” You shrug your shoulder. “It’s up to you, though. Just know I’m more than willing.”

This kiss is unlike any you’ve experienced before. You’re used to overeager boys practically shoving their tongues down your throat the first chance they get, yet here’s Joel claiming your lips—you can feel his every want and his desire for you with how thoroughly he kisses you. The soft pillow of his mouth moves with yours, his scent filling your nose—hints of the beer he drank and his spicy cologne imprinting this moment in your mind. Your eyes flutter closed, and your head goes dizzy from the arousal igniting in your belly.

Just one kiss and you know you’re ruined for anyone else.

His arms go around you, and he mouths at your chin. “Come here,” he says against your skin. “Get in my lap.”

You do as you’re told, bunching up the bottom of your dress at your waist and moving to straddle his thighs. His hands go under your clothes to grab your ass, and he’s so surprised to feel bare skin he leans back with the confused expression you’re becoming intimately familiar with.

“You really didn’t come over just to fuck me?” he asks. His palms wander, and you know he’s discovered your thong when he hooks a thumb under its stretchy waistband—they were the last clean pair of underwear you had.

“I really didn’t.” You’re curious about something. “But if I had, what are the chances that I would’ve succeeded…?”

“With this dress and a little convincin’? Pretty good.”

You smile. “Really?”

“Yeah. You’re so fuckin’ beautiful and smart. I know this is a bad idea, and it’ll probably bite me in the ass later, but I’m so fuckin’ lonely, and you’re just too damn temptin’ to pass up.”

The truth is clear in his eyes and makes you kiss him—your fingers comb into the hair at the back of his head, finding it softer than you thought it’d be. It starts off slow and tender, just lips to lips, until Joel deepens it, the tip of his tongue making it past your lower lip. Hearing that he’s lonely tugs at your heart, and you want to do everything you can to make that loneliness disappear. Things start to heat up, and all you can do is follow his lead, moaning as he explores your mouth with his tongue. With his palms on your backside, he helps you rock your hips, grinding yourself against his hard cock beneath his jeans, rubbing your clit just right to fan the flames growing in your core.

When you finally need to come up for air, his hand grips your chin to turn your head as you pant, Joel kissing and nipping at your skin from the base of your neck up—tingles wash down your spine when he nibbles on your jaw. He gently bites your earlobe, and you gasp when his hot breath tickles your ear.

He huskily whispers into it, “You want me?” His hand fondles your breast.

“Yes.”

“I can touch you?”

“Anywhere.”

“I need you to be a good girl and tell me when you do and don’t like things—understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl,” he purrs.

The way those two words make your cunt clench has you moaning, ”Fuck.”

He easily unzips the back of your dress, tugging the garment up and over your head, letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor. You’re sitting astride his lap, the dark pools of his eyes taking in your mostly naked body, his big hands massaging your bra-covered breasts. It’s surprising that being under his gaze, you don’t immediately feel self-conscious, and you think that has to do with how he’s looking at you—the desire and appreciation clear as he admires you.

“Can I take this off?” he asks, nodding towards what he’s touching.

“Yes.”

He sits up straighter, and it’s quick work for him to get your bra off, it landing on top of your dress. He’s focused on your tits, holding them in his palms, weighing them. He leans forward, sucking your nipple into his mouth, and the sudden shock of pleasure has your breath catching in your throat, your fingers grabbing handfuls of his shirt for something to hold onto. When he grazes his teeth over the stiff bud, your entire body shivers—your panties have a wet spot from your pussy leaking your arousal for him. He gives your other breast the same attention, leaving your skin shiny from spit when he comes off of it with a wet pop to look at you.

“Lie down on the couch, baby.” He pats the empty seat next to him. “Your head all the way at the other end.”

He doesn’t have to ask you twice. You scramble out of his lap, the couch’s leather creaking as you crawl over to where he instructed and sit back on your elbows to see what’s happening. Joel grunts as he gets up to stand, watching in interest when he squeezes the noticeable bulge at the front of his jeans. His arm goes behind his head to grab his shirt, pulling it up and off of his body to bare his torso.

At seeing so much of his golden skin, your jaw goes slack—his freckled chest is so broad, tapering down to his trim waist, his abs showing a little bit of muscle definition you think is from doing manual labor and not working out. Your eyes fixate on the happy trail of hair below his belly button that disappears beneath the waistband of his jeans.

“Sure could get used to you lookin’ at me like that.”

That has your attention snapping up to his face, where you find him smirking, and you close your mouth.

“Sorry,” you apologize, your eyes darting away from him.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about, darlin’. Makes me feel pretty fuckin’ great about the shape I’m in.”

You look at him again. “Hate to break it to you, babe, but you’re in great shape and so hot—you’re really down to fuck me?” You point at yourself.

He kneels on the sofa by your feet, his hand on the back of it to steady himself.

“Darlin’, if I didn’t know your daddy, and you were a stranger I met in a bar, I’d bring you home in a heartbeat. I feel like a real lucky son of a bitch that someone as young and pretty as you has any interest in an old guy like me.” He lifts one of your legs and gently kisses the inside of your ankle, the sweetness of it making you melt a little.

“Oh, I’m very interested in you.”

“Is that so?” he asks and spreads open your legs. He crawls over you, and you lie back, Joel nestling his hips between your thighs for you to feel how hard he is as he dips his head, kissing up the column of your throat—the nerves in your stomach flutter wildly.

“Yes,” you whisper and need to touch him, wrapping your arms around his torso to press your palms against the warm skin on his shoulders—his body shudders, a rumbling groan coming from his chest.

You squeak in surprise when his lips are suddenly on yours, kissing you hard.

He takes over all of your senses—he’s all you see, he’s all you feel, he’s all you taste, he’s all you hear, he’s all you smell. It’s him, and him alone—his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth, his weight on top of you. Your fingers thread into his hair, moaning as he takes over your very world, reveling in this feeling of being wanted.

His lips leave yours, both of you breathing a little heavier. His teeth gently sink into your chin before kissing along the underside of your jaw.

He speaks into your skin, his words muffled, “I’m very interested in you, too. I shouldn’t be, but I am.” His mouth ends up at your ear, and he quietly asks, “Can I eat your pussy?”

“Oh.” The question surprises you. “I’m usually the one who asks. Do you want me to blow you first?” There was always a quid pro quo when it came to oral.

His head lifts to look you in the eye.

“Darlin’?”

“Yes, Joel?”

“You’ve been with some truly shitty boys.”

It makes you laugh, and he smiles.

“Ain’t that the truth,” you reply.

“It should always be ladies first—may I?”

What a gentleman.

“Absolutely.”

“Good,” he says and pecks you on the lips.

He doesn’t immediately move off of you, and it catches you off guard. Instead, his mouth blazes a trail, kissing down your body—your neck, your chest, and your belly. This is when your self-consciousness rears its ugly head. Joel is getting up close and personal with your imperfections—your scars, stretch marks, cellulite, all those little details you normally kept hidden in the safety of dark rooms or under shirts when you hooked up with someone. Now, you’re basically naked, the lamp is on, and he can see it all, which makes you feel uneasy.

He kisses just above your belly button, then below it, going lower and lower until he places one last kiss on your panties, over your mound. He sits up on his knees, tracing the lines and curves of your thighs and hips with his large palms while he drinks you in as you lie there—you have to fight the urge to cover yourself, unable to meet his gaze.

The silence is broken when Joel speaks. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

Your eyes seek out his face where you don’t find any deception, but you have to ask, “Really?”

“Really.” He nods. “Fuckin’ gorgeous.”

His attention goes to the apex of your thighs, and the pink of his tongue swipes along his bottom lip as if he’s imagining how you’ll taste. He strokes the pad of his thumb over the visible damp spot on your underwear, his other hand squeezing his cock that’s straining in his jeans.

“I bet you have the prettiest pussy, too,” he says, and gets his fingers under the elastic waistband on your panties, pulling them down and off your legs, the air cool against your now bared skin. He shuffles back a little, then bends forward, spreading your lips open with two fingers as his face hovers over it. You think your heart might beat out of your chest with how fast it’s thudding, your skin feeling so hot. “I fuckin’ knew it, such a pretty pussy,” Joel murmurs. He circles your clit with his thumb, and the pleasure has every muscle in your body tensing and your eyes closing. “You’re gonna taste so good.”

He loudly groans as he drags the flat of his tongue along your cunt, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking.

“Oh, god,” you moan, your body squirming at how good it feels.

Joel has to pin down your hips with an arm across them to keep you still, his face buried in your pussy. He goes straight to the source, lapping at your entrance to taste your arousal while the tip of his perfect nose rubs against your bundle of nerves, his facial hair prickling your skin.

Oh.

Oh no.

You’re fucked.

It’s not even a minute in, and you can already feel your orgasm taking shape low in your belly, the muscles beginning to wind up. If you thought the first kiss ruined you, you know you’re ruined by how eagerly he’s eating you out—who knew this could be so good? You have to wonder how you’ll ever be able to fool around with anyone else when Joel is all you’ll be able to think about or compare it to—this is the only moment doubt invades your mind. You feel like this is all a mistake, but it’s quickly squashed by how unbelievably horny and curious you are.

His mouth lifts, and you whine at its loss. “Gimme a second,” he pants. “I gotta see how tight you are.” That’s when one of his thick fingers presses to your soaked opening, and he slowly starts to push it inside.

The slight stretch makes you gasp his name, your fingers clawing at the sofa’s maroon leather.

“Christ,” Joel says. “You’re squeezin’ me. With how fuckin’ tight you are, I’d think this is your first time.”

You sit back up on your elbows and open your eyes to look at him.

“You just have massive fingers, and it’s been a while.”

His gaze meets yours as he smirks. “Well, I’m gonna loosen you up with my massive fingers, and I think you’ll enjoy it.”

He doesn’t wait for you to respond. His head dips, flicking his tongue side-to-side against your clit when you feel the sudden pressure of his second digit pushing into you—there’s even more of a stretch and the delicious feeling of being full. You fall back on the couch, tangling your fingers into the brown waves of hair on his head, moans falling unbidden from your lips. His digits crook as they pump in and out of you, sliding along your upper wall when they press into something that elicits white-hot pleasure, making you keen and wiggle under the hold he has on your lower half.

Yeah, you’re totally and completely fucked.

He’s relentless with his mouth and fingers as you careen toward your end, free-falling in the throes of pleasure. He’s really going to get you off, and you think you might be in love with him. Is that crazy? Falling for the guy you absolutely should not fall for—that you can’t even have any kind of future with—because it’d ruin both of your lives, especially his.

Why does that make you want him more?

You definitely understand now why Eve ate the forbidden fruit—the temptation leads to such sweet gratification when you give in.

He sucks your throbbing clit into his mouth, sweeping his tongue around it, and you can hear the wet squelch of him fucking his fingers into your cunt. Your thighs are trembling—you’re so close, the coil inside you winding tighter and tighter until it snaps, and you’re coming with an unintelligible cry. Your body seizes up, euphoria exploding out from your center, radiating to your fingers and toes. Joel removes his digits, his tongue taking their place to catch every bit of your slick he can get, groaning as he lets no drop go to waste.

You’ve never come so hard, feeling a little floaty as you ride out your high, your chest heaving heavy breaths. With how shaky your arms and legs are, you’d think you were out in the freezing cold.

Joel’s mouth comes off of you and he sits up, rubbing his hands along the outside of your legs.

“Such a good girl for me,” he says. “Was it good?”

“Was it good?” you parrot back at him and push yourself up into a sitting position. “It was more than good, Joel—oh my god, it was amazing.”

The bottom half of his face glistens in the lamplight, his shiny lips turning up in a smile.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“You still wanna fuck?”

“I think I will die if you don’t fuck me.”

He chuckles, and that’s all the answer he needs. He’s off the couch instantly, and you watch as he hurriedly unbuckles his belt and gets his jeans undone, shoving them and his boxers down his legs so fast it makes you giggle. He’s balancing on one foot, peeling off his sock, and you finally get a good look at his dick—it’s hard and bobbing between his legs, the tip flushed red and shiny from precum, and your eyes round at how big he is.

“Second thoughts?” he asks, taking off his other sock.

Your gaze rises to his, seeing he’s frowning. “No.” You shake your head. “It’s more, ‘I sure hope that thing fits inside me.’”

He crookedly smiles, his chest puffing up a little. “It’ll fit—I promise.” And he has the audacity to wink at you.

Just as quickly as he got off the sofa, he’s getting back on it, kneeling in the space between your spread thighs. His attention is on your pussy, rubbing the tip of himself against your swollen clit and through your wetness. Nerves swirl in your belly, along with arousal, his free hand giving your hip a reassuring squeeze before he’s spitting on his fingers and slicking up his cock. He notches himself at your entrance, and your heart is in your throat as you hold your breath.

“Just relax, baby,” he says. “You can take me.”

He slowly starts feeding his hard length into you, making you gasp when the fat head breaches your slick cunt, your eyes squeezing shut, your fingers digging into the couch’s leather cushions. A groan rumbles from his throat, and you answer with a drawn-out moan as he burrows his thick cock deep inside you, your tight walls stretching to their limits to accommodate his size. Full doesn’t even begin to describe how stuffed you are—he’s hot inside you, almost searing, and you can feel him pulsing. He bottoms out and goes completely still, his hands on your hips in a bruising grip.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he rasps. “You okay?” His thumbs stroke circles on your skin.

“Yes.” It comes out as more of a squeak. “I just need a second.”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

Darlin’, baby, and now sweetheart when his dick is inside you? Is he trying to make you fall in love with him?

He bends at the waist, one hand on the couch holding up his weight while the other massages your breast, his lips wrapping around your pebbled nipple, the sparks of pleasure going straight to your pussy. Your fingers wind up in his hair; what he’s doing to you has you whimpering at how good it feels and only makes you wetter where you’re joined. He pulls each of your legs up to rest on his ribs while his mouth moves higher, kissing your sternum and up the arch of your neck, sucking on your pulse point and making you squirm underneath him.

His hands end up on either side of your head, his lips leaving behind a wet streak of kisses along the hinge of your jaw to finally ghost over yours—you can feel his breaths and smell your musk. He’s so close it wouldn’t take much more for your mouths to meet.

His nose nudges yours. “Need more time?” he whispers.

Enough has passed that you don’t feel as overwhelmed. You slide your palms up his back to his shoulders.

“No,” you answer just as quietly. “You can move.”

He pulls out almost all the way and pushes back in as his mouth claims yours, muffling your sounds when he sets up a rhythm of long, hard strokes. You’re gone—all rational thoughts go out the window, and the only thing you can think about is how his cock is moving in and out of you. It’s so distracting you’re having trouble kissing Joel back because your brain keeps screaming, ‘so big, so full, so good.’

You’re feverishly clutching at his shoulder blades, your nails leaving crescent moon imprints and scratches you’re sure will bleed on his golden skin, Joel moaning into your mouth. It surprises you when you feel the familiar tension of another orgasm making itself known deep in your core, the pressure rising with each thrust, the angle of them causing him to slide against spots you never knew existed, and you don’t ever want this to end.

His lips leave yours, pressing his forehead to your cheek. He’s breathing hard, sweat beginning to bead on his skin as he keeps the same pace.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he pants. “Fuck, I’ll never get enough of this pussy. Just wanna stay inside it until my dick is all it knows.”

Your legs are quivering, your body is burning up, and you can’t get enough of how fucking good this feels. One time—one time—and you’re addicted, you’re drunk on the pleasure and will do anything—anything—for this to happen again.

“It’s yours,” you gasp. “Oh, god, it’s yours!”

His lips move to your ear, huskily asking, “It’s mine, baby? Your pussy is mine? I’m fuckin’ ya that good?”

You’re so out of it and lost in the lust you start babbling, “Yes, it’s yours—fuck, ruin me,” you whine.

“That’s what you want, for me to ruin your perfect little pussy?”

“Please—make me feel it. Make me ache to have your cock inside me again. Make me yours.”

He growls, and you think you’ve said the wrong thing because he’s immediately pulling out, your eyes springing open in time to see him sit up on his knees.

His big hands grab hold of your waist. “Flip,” is all he says, and you find yourself getting manhandled onto your front, Joel tugging you up onto your hands and knees. He wastes no time sheathing himself back inside you, pushing in so deep that your eyes roll back in your head and your toes curl.

Joel’s hips are flush against your ass, the full length of him seated all the way inside of you—you can’t think, your mouth open in a silent cry. He’s filling you to the absolute brim, and it becomes evident your cup has truly runneth over.

He was right, though. It did fit.

A shuddery breath escapes you. He only allows you a moment to get used to the new fullness before he’s pulling out until just the tip of him remains and snapping his hips forward hard enough it knocks the air from your lungs—this is how you learn what it’s like to really be fucked, and fucked good.

His fingers dig into the skin on your waist, pulling you back as he thrusts forward at a pace that has you lightheaded, stars dancing behind your closed eyelids each time he presses against that heavenly spot inside you.

Warmth grows in your belly, the sounds from the TV overshadowed by the filthy cacophony of skin hitting skin and the audible wetness of his cock working in and out of your used cunt—he’s grunting with each stroke, your moans stuttering from the onslaught.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks through gritted teeth, emphasizing each word with a hard thrust.

It’s a struggle to gather your thoughts and form a response with how good he’s fucking you.

A palm lands on the side of your ass in a loud smack, the sweet sting causing you to clench around him and whimper.

“Answer me, sweetheart,” he says. “Is this what you wanted?”

All you can gasp out is a single word. “Yes!”

“Am I fuckin’ you good?”

“Yes!”

He’s pounding into you at a near-brutal pace, the fire inside you only getting hotter as each second passes.

“Look at me,” he orders.

It takes everything in you to turn your head and look over your shoulder. Joel is a sight to behold—a flush rising from his chest to his cheeks, the sweat on his skin making it glisten under the lamp’s light, and his hair sticking wetly to his forehead. His eyes are heavy-lidded and glazed over, his jaw clenched.

He slows, his gaze on yours.

“You wanna be mine?” he asks.

“Yes.”

The moment your answer leaves your lips, he’s blanketing your back, holding himself up with a hand on the couch, the other going under you to palm your breast and tweak your stiff nipple with his fingers.

He lightly bites your earlobe, his facial hair scratching your cheek when he kisses it.

“I’m gonna make you come,” he says through heavy breaths. “Then I’m gonna fuck you full of me—you want that?”

A shiver moves through you, and you gulp.

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

His hand smooths down your front over your stomach to between your legs, where he starts circling your clit with two fingers. It’s like a live wire along your spine, electricity sparking in your core—that added to the sensations of his cock splitting you open and pushing in and out of you has you rocketing toward your release.

“You gonna come for me?” His hot breaths fan over your ear. “You gonna let me feel you come all over my cock? Come on, let me have it—come for me.”

Joel’s bent over you, fucking into you harder and faster, his fingers deliciously swirling around your throbbing bud as he grunts in your ear with every thrust, all of it driving you higher and higher to your end.

You’re so worked up that it doesn’t take much to have you falling over the edge—the muscles in your belly pull tight, your orgasm ripping through you, gasping Joel’s name. He sucks in a breath when your pussy clamps down on him, then loudly groans, continuing to fuck you through your high, and doesn’t stop—his fingers keep up their assault on your clit, and his hips snap into you in quick, short bursts that extend your high. You come, and come, and come to the point your arms give out, and your body shakes and twitches from all of the pleasure coursing through it.

When you think you can’t take any more, relief washes over you that Joel follows suit. With one last thrust, he buries himself all the way to the hilt inside you as he falls forward, his front framing your back, his teeth sinking into the meat of your shoulder. He comes with a dirty, rumbling groan—you feel his dick thicken and pulse, hot spurts of his spend filling you. He grinds his hips, fucking it as deep as it will go, then stills.

The movie’s ending credits are playing, hearing the music and your and Joel’s ragged breaths as you both come down. He’s at the same awkward angle as you, with your hips up and your faces down—his sweaty chest is pressed to your back, your bodies sticking together everywhere they touch. It’s not the most comfortable position, but with how your limbs tremble, you’re not entirely sure you can even move.

You asked him to ruin you, and oh boy, did he deliver—you’re absolutely, positively ruined. It kills you that after whatever this night is, you’ll have to go back to subpar sex with guys who couldn’t find the clit if they were given a map and detailed directions. This is the second time tonight that you fear you’ve made a grave mistake hooking up with Joel, and the post-sex clarity is not helping the situation at all.

What were you thinking?

That’s easy; you weren’t. Or, at the very least, you weren’t thinking with your brain. Your pussy took the lead on this one, and it looks like she’s gotten you into a bit of a situation.

Your thoughts are interrupted when Joel’s arm wraps around your middle, and he turns you two onto your sides, the couch just barely wide enough to fit you both.

“Tha’s better,” Joel slurs, nuzzling his face into your hair. His hand over your stomach feels around until he finds your smaller one, lacing your fingers together and holding it to your chest—oh, he’s cuddling with you. It’s unexpected and nice. You close your eyes and enjoy this taste of intimacy.

Many minutes pass before he mumbles something you can’t make out.

“I’m sorry,” you start and are immediately embarrassed by how hoarse and scratchy your voice sounds from all the sounds you made tonight. You clear your throat and try again, “I’m sorry—what did you say?”

He turns his face so it’s out of your hair.

“I asked if you wanna stay over,” he says.

You smile. “Are you getting forgetful, Joel? You said I could stay over when I got here.”

“Fuckin’ smartass,” he grumbles, and you giggle. “What I meant was, do you wanna stay in my room? With me,” he clarifies.

“Only if you’re okay that I sleep naked—I’m not wearing my dress to bed.”

“Was kinda hopin’ you’d be naked.” He kisses your shoulder. “But if you’re more comfortable wearin’ somethin’, I can get you one of my t-shirts—it’s no big deal.”

“It baffles me that you’re single.”

“Why?”

“Uh, because you’re incredibly sweet, amazing in bed, a great father, very handsome, hardworking, and just an all-around catch. If I had the opportunity, and you know, there wasn’t the elephant in the room—” The fact he’s much older than you and one of your dad’s best friends. “—I’d date you in a heartbeat. If you ever give dating a shot again, you’re going to make one lucky woman very happy.”

“Fuck,” Joel groans, letting go of your hand to press his palm to his face. “What the hell am I doin’?”

That makes your stomach drop, and you frown—he’s regretting everything, and you can’t blame him. The post-sex clarity is a real bitch sometimes.

“Stressing for no reason,” you reply. You’re pretty sure you can walk, so you get up from the sofa, ignoring how wobbly your legs feel and his come leaking down your thigh. “Don’t you remember, Joel?” you ask, looking toward the floor for your clothes. “You let me stay the night ‘cause you were worried about me driving home in the dark.” You carefully bend down to pick up your thong, followed by your bra and dress. “We watched Die Hard,” you continue, straightening to stand. “Then turned in for the night to our respective bedrooms. You’re a real stand-up guy for caring so much about your friend’s daughter’s safety.”

You can’t even look at him, focusing instead on the TV where the Pearl Harbor DVD’s menu is on screen.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Tryin’ to pretend nothin’ happened.”

“You clearly wish nothing happened, so nothing happened—where’s the bathroom?” You need to clean up, and you’re tempted to just leave altogether.

“Up the stairs, second door on the right—when the hell did I say I wished nothin’ happened?”

“You didn’t have to. Your ‘what the hell am I doin’?’ was enough for me to get it.” You hug your clothes closer to your body. “Anyways, thanks for tonight. I think I’m just gonna use the bathroom and get out of here. I don’t want you to worry, so I’ll stay at that cheap motel by the highway.” The sign said it was twenty-something dollars a night, and you can swing that. You start heading toward the stairs.

“Hey, stop.” You don’t. You keep walking, willing the unshed tears in your eyes not to fall.

Why are you so upset? You’re well aware that this can only be a one-time thing. It was something fun and sexy where you got to fuck the older, unattainable guy you’ve been crushing on for a while. It wasn’t anything serious, and couldn’t be anything serious, because there’s no future for you two together. Not when he’s a good friend of your father’s. That kills any chance of having a relationship with Joel.

What hurts is he regrets it and wishes it never happened—you’re a mistake, and who wants to be someone’s mistake?

His heavy footsteps sound behind you. “Darlin’, stop,” he says again, and you continue ignoring him. Fingers latch around your bicep and lightly tug. “Please, stop for a second. Talk to me.” Finally, you do as he’s requested, standing still in front of the staircase. He turns you to look at him in his big brown eyes, his hands holding your arms.

“I don’t wish nothin’ happened,” he says. “You were talkin’ about how if things were different, you’d date me, but since they are the way they are, you won’t. I was thinkin’ to myself ‘what the hell am I doin’ wishin’ you’d change your mind,’ when I know it’s for the best.”

“Oh—really?”

Hope swells in your chest, butterflies fluttering around in your tummy.

“Yeah.” He nods. “Tell me you want nothin’ more to do with me, and I’ll grab you a towel and some of my clothes so you can wash up and retire to the guest room unless you’re truly set on stayin’ in a motel. In that case, I’ll pay for your room somewhere safer and much nicer, so I know you’ll be okay. Or—and I like this option more—you kiss me, and I’ll take you up to my bedroom so we can shower, either together or separately, whatever you’re comfortable with. Then we can get into my bed where we can talk and figure things out.”

It sounds like he doesn’t want this to be a one-time thing, either, and that makes you so happy you let your clothes fall to the floor to throw your arms around his neck, crashing your lips to his. Joel groans, his arm sliding behind your back, hugging you closer to him, his other hand cradling your cheek. Suddenly, he’s backing you up until your heels hit the first step, and he guides you to sit on a higher one, Joel kneeling on a lower stair to be at the right height that his hips slot between your thighs when he lays you back. He licks into your mouth, deepening the kiss, your fingers digging into his shoulder blades.

With how good he made you feel tonight, how wanted, you need more of him. There’s a looming fear in the back of your mind that this is too good to be true—that you’ll never be with him like this again, which makes you desperate for him. Your hand snakes its way between your bodies, taking his half-hard cock into your palm, slowly stroking it—a low rumble comes from the back of Joel’s throat. He gets his hand to the juncture of your thighs, sliding his fingers through the puffy lips of your sex, gathering your arousal and his come on his fingertips to rub at your swollen clit.

“You’re mine,” he says into your lips.

“I’m yours,” you answer.

This is how you end up fucking on the stairs, Joel thrusting into you at a pace that has your toes curled and your fingers gripping his ass—your spine tingles from his mouth exploring your neck, mapping out the spots that make you gasp and moan, and you’re in heaven.

A door slams shut on the other side of the railing, and your eyes fly open.

“Hey, Asshole!” a man calls.

Joel’s hand covers your mouth, and you watch the intruder walk through the dining room to the kitchen without seeing you.

“I brought over pizza so you can stop bein’ a sad and lonely sonofabitch!”

Joel immediately pulls out and gets off you, using his strength to help you flip over. “Upstairs,” he whispers, tapping you on the hip, and you go as quickly and quietly as you can with Joel following.

You make it to the second-story landing, and he grabs your hand, tugging you all the way down the hall into what you know is his bedroom by how it smells like him. He closes the door and locks it before beelining to his dresser, roughly pulling out one drawer from which he grabs a burgundy t-shirt, then another that he gets a pair of stretchy gray sweatpants.

“Is this a dress?!” Is yelled from downstairs. “Do you have a girl over?! Who’d wanna fuck your sorry ass?!”

Surprisingly, the clothes in Joel’s hands are not for him; he shoves them into your arms and ushers you over to his bathroom.

“I’m sorry,” he says, flicking on the light, the fan automatically turning on. “It’s Tommy. Stay in here, and I’ll kick him out.” Obnoxiously loud footsteps are coming up the stairs, and he has to take a deep breath, his eyes to the sky like he’s praying God will smite his brother right this second. “Lord, give me strength,” he breathes.

“Where would you even meet a girl?!” Tommy asks from the hallway. “All you do is work—you never go out.”

Joel pecks you on the lips. “I’ll be right back—stay in here,” he tells you again, and this time, he leaves, shutting the door behind him.

There’s banging on the bedroom door, and your ears perk up as you put on the clothes.

“Go home, Tommy,” he says.

“Not until I know who this pretty dress belongs to.”

“Give me that—it’s none of your fuckin’ business. Leave.”

“Come on, Joel—we know the same people. Did you finally give in to Nikki? She’s wanted to go out with you for a long fuckin’ time.”

“No, and it’s still none of your fuckin’ business who I have in the house I pay for. So, get goin’, or I’m gonna make you go.”

“You can be a real dick, Joel. Why are you bein’ so fuckin’ secretive?”

“Do I ask about who you take home from the bar?”

“No, but—”

“Exactly,” Joel interrupts. “I don’t give a fuck what you do in your spare time, and I sure as hell don’t need to tell you what I do in mine, so leave, Tommy—I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.”

“With how fuckin’ grouchy you are, I don’t think you got laid at all—I’m gonna get goin’ ‘cause you clearly need the company of a woman. Bye, mystery woman with the pretty dress hidin’ in Joel’s bathroom!” he yells. “Hopefully you can cheer this fucker up! Enjoy the pizza!”

It goes quiet, and you think Joel left the room, too. You can’t go anywhere, so you decide to take in your surroundings—the bathroom is cleaner than you’d expect from a single man, you have to put the toilet seat down when you pee, and as you’re washing your hands, you notice there’s only one toothbrush in a cup.

You know you shouldn’t snoop, but you pull open the medicine cabinet and find an extra tube of toothpaste, some Tylenol, Ibuprofen, a thing of pain relief cream, then a shelf with a few medicine bottles that intrigues you—prescription pain pills, antidepressants, and heartburn medication. No red flags, but you’re a little worried about how much pain he’s in. You close the cabinet, and soft knocking on the bathroom door makes you jump.

“You can come out,” Joel’s muffled voice says. “He’s gone.”

Walking over to the door, you open it, Joel leaning against the doorframe in a white t-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants he must’ve put on before talking to Tommy.

He sighs. “So, that was my brother.”

“Seems nice—if I remember correctly, he’s younger, right?”

“Yeah.”

“That explains how annoying he is.”

He smiles, and an amused huff leaves him. “Yeah, he’s annoyin’ alright.”

“We have the house to ourselves?”

“We do—I walked him out myself.”

You grin. “Wonderful.” You grab a fistful of his shirt. “Because I think you said something about us showering together, and I’d like to do that right now, then go eat pizza—I’ve somehow worked up an appetite,” you tell him and pull him forward; he happily comes your way with a smirk.

“Worked up an appetite, huh?” he asks, his eyes on your mouth.

“Yes. No clue how.”

He closes the distance, his lips almost touching yours, when he replies, “Let me remind you how,” and kisses you.

An hour later, you’re walking down the stairs clean and in your borrowed clothes.

“Can we eat then go to bed?” you ask, through a yawn. “I had classes today, and that long ass drive, plus all the sex. I’m so damn tired.”

Joel’s behind you in just his sweatpants.

“I’m fuckin’ tired, too. That sounds good to me.”

The only lights on downstairs are the lamps in the living room. You walk into the dark kitchen, Joel flipping on the light as he follows, and you head for the stove where the pizza is, popping open the box to see it’s pepperoni.

“I’ll grab us some plates,” Joel says, rubbing your upper arms. He kisses the top of your head before stepping over to a cabinet.

Turning around, you’re about to ask Joel where the cups are when the dining room light comes on, Tommy standing by the switch. You gasp in shock; Joel’s immediate reaction is to grab a knife from the knife block and get between you and the unwanted visitor—it takes him a second to recognize it’s his brother.

“Goddammit, Tommy!” Joel shouts and slams the butcher knife onto the countertop. “Are you tryin’ to get yourself killed?!”

“No,” his brother answers, shaking his head, and he looks a little too amused. “But you sure the hell are! Her?!” He points at you and has the audacity to laugh. “Oh, god, Joel,” he says through his glee and grabs the back of a chair, his other hand on his chest as he chuckles. “Her daddy is gonna kill you—you’re fucked!”

Joel sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, perching a palm on his hip. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he says. “I’m a dead man walking.”

“You are!” Tommy calms down, and his shit-eating grin annoys you. “What the hell were you thinkin’?” he asks. “I mean, I know what you were thinkin’. I just can’t get over you not only robbin’ the fuckin’ cradle, but bangin’ your best buddy’s daughter. How long has whatever this is—” He gestures at you both. “—been goin’ on?”

“It just happened tonight—I don’t need you lecturin’ me on right and wrong. I know it’s a fucked up situation.”

A fucked up situation? Ouch. The comment has you crossing your arms over your chest, staring at the floor.

“Fucked up is right, and I’ve got no fuckin’ idea how you’re gonna get out of it. Her daddy finds out about this, and he’s gonna shoot you deader than dead.”

“I told you I didn’t want you lecturin’ me.”

Tommy puts his hands up. “Hey, I’m not lecturin’. I’m just statin’ the facts. I wanna make sure you know this thing between you two could get you killed. You’ve got a daughter, Joel—what would you do in this situation?”

“Woah,” you interrupt, moving to stand beside Joel—Tommy’s comment about Sarah is a fucking nuke you need to try and hopefully defuse. “First of all, I just want to point out that I am a consenting adult and can fuck whoever I want. Second, I need to set the record straight and say that my dad isn’t going to kill anyone. He’ll be mad as hell if he finds out, but he isn’t going to commit murder because, truth be told, he’s never given a fuck about my life choices. I’d also like to add that this is kinda his fault for not having me visit more often because now Joel and I are pretty much strangers, and this whole thing isn’t as bad as it sounds.”

“It’s still pretty bad, honey,” Tommy replies, his attention turning to you, smiling.

“Maybe, but it’s also nobody’s business who I fuck.”

“Sure, but this person you fucked is one of your daddy’s best friends whose—no offense—way too old for you.”

“Why does everyone keep callin’ me old?” Joel grumbles.

Tommy looks at his brother. “‘Cause you are, you old man.” He suddenly looks like he just realized something. “Wait a goddamn minute,” Tommy says. “Joel, are you havin’ a midlife crisis? You’re around the age people have those, right? It’d make sense why you’d risk your life to fuck her.”

“Get out, Tommy,” Joel replies, pointing toward the front door. “I’ve had enough of you.”

His younger brother pouts. “‘Cause I called you old?”

“Out.”

“Fine.” He slowly starts walking toward the hallway that leads to the front door. “I’ll get out of your hair so the two of you can enjoy the rest of your night. Bye!”

The door loudly closes as he leaves.

Well, you’re not entirely sure what’s going to happen now. Between the comment about Sarah and the other things that had been said, you wouldn’t be surprised if Joel ends this. You might as well cut your losses and get it over with to save yourself from more heartbreak.

Your eyes are on the ground, the first tear falling down your cheek. “After all that, I know whatever this is is probably over,” you quietly say. “But is there a chance I can still sleep in your bed with you tonight? And if you’re willing, have you hold me?”

He turns and pulls you into his arms.

“Yeah, you can sleep with me,” he answers and kisses your hair. “But I’m gonna need you to stop.”

You lean back to look at him with watery eyes. “Stop what?”

A sad smile is on his lips. “Jumpin’ to conclusions without talkin’ to me. You’ve already got one foot out the door, and I haven’t even opened it.”

“It’s just everything Tommy said.”

He lightly squeezes your biceps. “Tommy was bein’ a little shit. You were right when you said this isn’t as bad as it sounds, but you gotta be honest with me about somethin’.”

“What?” you ask.

His hands come up to hold your face, his thumbs wiping away the tears that have fallen. “Are you positive your daddy won’t kill me? I’ve got Sarah to think about, and even though I like you a lot, I’m not gonna risk dyin’ to be happy.”

The sweetest man and the best father.

You think about it for a second, and the sad truth is you can’t imagine your dad killing anyone for you—he doesn’t love you that much. He doesn’t love you to the same degree that Joel loves Sarah. With how easily Joel grabbed a knife to protect you, there’s no doubt in your mind he’d kill for his daughter without hesitation.

“He’ll be pissed off, but he isn’t going to kill you. We also don’t need to tell him anything unless this turns into something. We can keep it to ourselves for now.”

He hums in agreement. “You know, if you wanted, you could start comin’ here to do your laundry...”

You smile. “How will you explain that to Sarah?”

“That I’m helpin’ you out, which is true. Plus, I’ve got the guest room.”

“Uh huh, the guest room that I’ll sleep in?”

“Yes.” He nods.

“Alone?”

“I sleepwalk.”

You snort. “Stop it.” You playfully push his chest. “Sarah is not gonna believe you sleepwalked into the guest room.”

He snatches your hand, bringing it up to kiss your knuckles. “Who said anythin’ about Sarah knowin’ I’m in the guest room, or you bein’ in my room for that matter, while she’s sleepin’? There are also nights like tonight she spends with friends.”

“You really want me to hang out here?”

“Yeah. It’s nice to have company that isn’t Tommy.”

“I believe that. As long as I’m not a bother, I’ll do my laundry here.”

He smiles. “Not a bother, and you can wash your clothes tomorrow and stay another night. You could even stay over Sunday, too, since you have Monday off—you’re more than welcome.”

You loop your arms around his neck. “Yes, Joel. I will spend my long weekend with you.”

He leans in, brushing his lips against yours. “Good.”

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mickyschumacher · 9 days ago

Text

[BREAKFAST IN BED!]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: the racing season is finally over and lando is more than excited to have you all to himself. or in which lando prefers his breakfast in bed with you as the main course.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), breastplay, grinding(?), teasing, oral sex/eating out/cunnilingus, fingering, pure moments of fluff because bf!lando is the sweetest, discussion of lando mentally struggling at the start

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: bf!lando norris x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2k+

𝐀/𝐍: i promised a post before the end of the year and it happens to coincide with a holiday of giving ;) merry christmas and happy hanukkah to those who celebrate it! and happy new year! // as usual poorly proof-read ♡︎ (sorry if it's shitty, i haven't written a full-piece in a while)

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

The season was over. Finally.

Not to be offensive or anything but you had been waiting for this moment for what, this year, felt like forever.

Yes, it was action packed–largely due to the fact that a certain RedBull wasn't winning every race. Yes, McLaren had whipped up the fastest car on the grid to shake things up. And yes, the same team had clinched their ninth World Constructor's Championship.

And while that made you absolutely over the moon, all you had wanted was for some peace and quiet on a random Wednesday morning so you could (maybe creepily) ogle your handsome boyfriend.

Was that too much to ask for?

It had been a tough season for Lando and naturally, as you promised from the very start of your friendship alone–that you would stick by his side no matter what–you had also been through the thick of it.

Convincing Lando to not look at the comments after every session or race had been difficult. You tried your best to remove any negativity that clouded his mind. Some days it worked and some days it didn't.

But that was life. And that was then.

Now you were wide awake at some odd time in the morning, laying comfortably on your stomach with your head turned towards Lando. There was about one degree of separation between the both of you, allowing you to carefully observe him.

Lando was never an early bird. If he was, it would be by some miracle or your upper arm strength pulling him from the sheets. A small smile crept onto your face. You had been friends for years now and together for even shorter. Yet you still couldn't believe that the sleepy bird next to you was yours entirely.

His dark tousled and recently cut curls, the stress lines on his forehead you were always aching to smooth out and comfort with the pad of your thumb, his "perfectly normal sized ears" that you definitely never made fun of, his lovely lashes you were jealous of, and the soft pink lips you couldn't decide whether to touch or kiss.... all yours.

Behind all the stupidity, humour, and claimed 'indifference' Lando sported on camera and with others, you always knew his heart. It was open for everyone and had more than enough love to go around. You were in love with the biggest sap you had ever known.

And on top of all of that, he made it out of that car to you... alive... every goddamn time.

You were luckier than you could ever imagine.

"How long are you going to stare at me, love?" Lando's voice queried, thick with the rasp of the morning and the events of last night.

You slightly widened your eyes, watching him open those beautiful baby blues and land on you. An flustered flush of heat wavered up your skin. You bit your lip before slipping beneath the covers, feeling the warmth envelope your skin entirely. You started with a muttered curse.

"How long have you even been awake, Lan? That's so embarrassing," you chided with a muffled tone.

Unbeknownst to you, Lando couldn't help but grin at your sudden shy demeanour. It was hard for anyone to imagine you as shy but he had seen every side of you. How enjoyable it was that even after all these years, he could tease you and see how flustered you could get. If he had met you when you were kids, this is exactly how he imagined you'd be.

He stretched out his taut arm, grabbing you by the waist. His skin swarmed with heat as he felt your bare waist under your shirt as he pulled you over him. He moved your knees so you straddled him.

He pressed his lips to prevent a full blown smile at what he was seeing.

Your hair was fully covering your face, head down and hands hovering over to hide the tinges of pink and red on your skin.

"Baby... come on, love. Show me your face," Lando encouraged, nudging your hair lightly with the side of his finger. "Come on, baby."

You groaned, lifting your head, feeling all your tresses go back. You blankly stared at your boyfriend with burning cheeks. "I hate you," you mumbled, giving him a small glare.

Lando snorted, putting his hands firmly on your waist. His fingers edged up behind the hem of your shirt, rubbing small circles into your bare skin. "You love me. Someone who hates me wouldn't stare at me so lovingly."

"I–" You tried to open your mouth to retaliate but to no avail as you quickly came to the realisation that he was indeed correct. As Lando usually was with these things.

"Fine. You got me," you sighed admittedly, "I just missed waking up next to you in the morning. Is that such a horrible crime?" You dramatically asked, tease heavy in your voice.

In any other situation, Lando would've narrowed his eyes at your teasing but all he could do was gaze softly at you. You weren't able to travel with him all the time and he wasn't able to spend every day with you. You both knew that. And while it sucked, you had both gotten used to it, cherishing when you were together.

But this year... Lando had spent every living second wishing you were next to him. He wanted you to tell him your god awful jokes. To look at him from across the room and take his entire breath, mind, whatever, away. To drop the fake smiles and rest in your arms with all the time in the world.

"No," Lando whispered, warm eyes travelling over your face, trying to find anything new to memorise. Anything he had missed since seeing you. "That isn't a crime. If it was, I'd be guilty as charged."

Your breath hitched while a small shiver trickled down your body as Lando pushed back a lock of hair behind your ear. You chewed down on your lip before breaking into a smile gently. "I love you, Lando Norris. Forever," you murmured, placing a brief kiss onto his lips.

Lando stared at you hard, far more awake than he had ever been. He lifted his head slowly, holding you close to him. And without a second thought, he brought his lips to yours.

This kiss was different from the others you had shared. Perhaps it was the atmosphere or context that accounted for that different but the need, the love, the softness and the brutal passion was poured into every fibre of your being

Your hands curled around the back of his neck, pulling him tighter while your nose glided against his as Lando only just begun ravaging your mouth. He sucked on your lips with a small nibble here and there, relishing the muffled moans passing your lips.

His own hands continued to travel the path of your body he had committed to memory. He knew as he traversed your heated back exactly where the dark freckles he had come to love were.

Your soft moans became more audible and pleasing to Lando's ears as he curled his lips to your neck, leaving the sloppily yet controlled path of possessive kisses down base of your skin. He could feel your pulse against his skin and God, he wanted to burn it into his brain and save it.

"Lando," you gasped as you felt a sudden jerk underneath you, feeding into the pooling wetness between your thighs. Your teeth sunk into your pillowy bottom lip, your hips automatically responded by grinding down onto Lando's bulge.

"Ah, fuck," Lando cursed, feeling his cock throb in his underwear. His eyes fluttered shut, hands immediately returning to your hips to continue the stimulating pleasure.

You were driving him crazy.

Both of your skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat as you felt Lando's clothed cock rut into your poorly covered pussy. You rocked your hips harder into him, feeling a slight jolt against your clit. "Oh, fuck, Lando," you moaned his name in his ear, fingers curling into his skin.

Lando opened his eyes, drawing back to capture your face. Your dazed eyes, glowing skin, panting lips, the way your hips bowed towards him... he had missed you. So. Fucking. Much.

"I want breakfast," Lando blurted with a slight gasp as the pleasure rocked through his body.

You stopped moving your hips, body shuddering from the halt. You raised a brow at the sudden desire but shrugged it off considering you were way past breakfast hours and you were only human. "Okay," you responded, about to move off of Lando to head to the kitchen.

Lando reached over, hand pulling your body back towards him, rolling your body so he hovered over you between your legs. "Where are you going?" he tutted, "Breakfast is right here."

You seemed to lose the ability to speak with Lando's hand kneading the flesh of your thighs, implying exactly what he wanted. You breathlessly watched his head move over your body. His tongue lapped at your skin, travelling to any bare patch he could find as though he wanted to feast on you. His warmth made your core tingle as you arched into his touch.

You were positively going to lose your mind.

His hands slid under your shirt, burning your skin until he could fill his palms with your breasts. "Oh baby," Lando moaned, fingers teasing your soft mounds. "I love your tits so fucking much."

A choked cry broke through your lips upon hearing his confession, fingers brushing against your hardened nipple almost painfully slowly. No matter how many times he said it, it set you alight.

"Lando," you moaned loudly, hoping he could read and hear the sound that beckoned him towards your aching core.

He paused, allowing you to take in the heavenly sight of Lando's bare chest, decorated only by the necklace you had gotten him on his birthday last year. In turn, his gaze was only focused on your core.

You tested your lung capacity, taking in a sharp inhale as he pressed his knuckles against your panties, purposely pushing harder against on the ball of your clit. You faltered at the smile sprawling on his face, your hips jolting forward and mouth unable to contain a desperate yelp.

Lando was every inch as desperate as you were, taking no time to waste. His fingers hooked onto your panties and removed them in one swift motion, leaving you bare from the waist down.

Your stomach churned at the sight of Lando nestling his head into your inner thigh, his once light blue eyes now dark and heavy with desire as he inhaled the scent of you. The moan escaping his lips made you shiver.

You were sure you were dripping. You could feel the slick trail down your pussy, glistening in a patient wait to be touched just like you were.

Your eyes fell back to Lando who groaned your name. "I promise to God, I'm going to make you cum so hard that breakfast in bed will be the only option you have," he stated so surely against your skin as his fingers slid from the seam of your entrance to your clit, bundling all your wetness onto his hand.

Oh god.

"Lando, please," you begged shamelessly, legs aching to clench together to relieve the pain of being untouched.

Your legs trembled around Lando's head, his hot breath nearing your pussy while his mouth drew closer. You watched him take you in for the last time before his lips firmly sealed over your aching clit.

The burst of pleasure cut through your body so sharply. Your cry of joy echoed in the late morning, hips bucking against his mouth.

Lando's hands travelled to the outside of your thighs, grasp tightening to keep them spread open on his shoulders. "Keep them open, baby," he ground out.

It took everything in your power to keep your legs from collapsing, particularly as he made his point with another hard to suck to your clit, but you body seemed to follow his command. His mouth returned your wet folds, tongue swirling around every crevice before coming back to the most sensitive part of you, turning you into absolute mush.

Your hands had found their way to those mop of curls you cherished so much, legs trying to conform around Lando's shoulder to welcome any better angle of pleasure.

Your gasp at the sudden dismissal of his mouth was short lived, any chance to complain gone as his fingers pushed into your slick folds, stretching your clenching muscles out.

"Fuck yourself on those pretty little fingers for me, baby. I need you ready for me," Lando encouraged breathlessly as something feral inside of him emerged.

His fingers stroked your swollen walls from the inside, ensuring you felt every inch of them along the sensitive front wall of your pussy while his tongue glazed over every puffy slick fold like you were golden honey.

Lando watched in torture as he pushed his fingers in and out of your walls, your body jerking forward at the sheer pleasure. "That's it, baby," he continued to praise you.

"Doing so well for me, hmm?" He asked, a gleam of your wetness coating his lips. Moving his free hand down your thigh, he gathered your flesh in his fingers before reaching the small bundle of nerves, thumb going in small firm circles.

You were beginning to feel numb. A cold yet hot tightness coiling within your core, waiting to be unleashed. "Lando," you gasped, struggling to keep your head up, "fuck, I–I think I'm going to cum."

"Yes, baby," Lando coaxed, fingers speeding up with every action they had entailed, "Cum for me, please. Keep your eyes open. Look at me, love."

You fought the urge to squeeze your eyes shut, forcing your eyes to travel to those familiar baby blues. All the trillion nerves in your body felt like entangled knots tied by Lando's tongue while his fingers found the sweetest spot of your pussy and held to you that pinnacle.

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip while Lando held your gaze, tongue sliding, curving up, and pushing in and out of every crevice. Your pussy finally succumbed to the hard pressure, clenching muscles squeezing hard at the sharp pinch of pain.

The pain was explosive, searing, and all-consuming.

You cried.

You cried so loudly you were sure your neighbours would be complaining any minute now.

It didn't matter. Not when the pleasure shooting through you was disproportionately and literally blowing you out of this world as though it had been seated and waiting to be released since the dawn of time itself. Your hips bucked and stuttered while you squirmed and writhed against the bed, the fabric of your shirt sticking to your sweaty skin.

Lando's mouth had never left you through your orgasm, tongue still deep in your folds, savouring all the convulses, shudders, and clenches of your body.

Even better yet, he had watched every second of you falling apart.

And it absolutely drove him crazy.

Lando's hand rushed to catch your falling body, holding you up as a small wave of exhaustion crashed into you. You stared at Lando shiftless, still seeing the faint image of floating stars across his face.

Oh my god.

Lando had broken you with his tongue.

You watched Lando lick his fingers clean as you slowly removed your legs from his shoulders. You lifted your head, pressing a long kiss onto his lips.

Lando grinned, cradling his arms around your body as he pushed you both into the bed yet again. He pushed back your slightly greased hair, caressing your cheek gently. "You okay?"

His query made you feel soft all over. You smiled into his hands and nodded. "Perfect," you chirped, hands hanging over his neck.

"So... breakfast in bed?" Lando offered knowingly as he massaged your thighs gently. You were not walking to that kitchen.

You furrowed your brows. "What about my breakfast?"

Lando wanted to question you but as his eyes followed your gaze, the answer became as clear as the aching bulge underneath his boxers.

"Oh."

#mickyschumacher #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lando norris #f1 smut #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris oneshot #lando x reader

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formulamar · 1 month ago

Text

puppy love (but it’s cats!) part 1

max verstappen x vet!yn

fc: girls from pinterest

summary: as a Monaco native, Yn has had her fair share of encounters with F1 drivers. and as a vet, she has even fostered close relationships with some of the driver's pets. what happens when she is introduced to a single Max Verstappen who has two adorable cats?

vetyn

liked by albon_pets and 2,568 others

vetyn we had the cutest visitor today! 🐱💗

210 comments

ynbestfriend: hard at work or hardly working 🧐

vetyn: you’re just jealous i’m not crunching numbers all day 🙄

ynsfriend: can’t decide who’s cuter!

albon_pets: Dr. Yn we thought WE were the CUTEST?

vetyn: i promise YOU ARE! also some of my finest patients 🐾

albono23: now i can’t help but wonder which sibling commented this 😭😭😭

rumorhasitf1

liked by lion33, maxiellvr and 4,672 others

rumorhasitf1: 🚨 RUMOR HAS IT 🚨

Nearly 7 months after his dramatic split with his ex-girlfriend, it appears like Max is on the hunt for love 👀. Sources confirm the World Champion has recently joined the popular celebrity dating app Raya and he has been spotted out on a few dates. Is it possible we might see a new face in the RB garage soon?

531 comments

maxiellvr: lowkey i feel like he's going to end up dating who we least expect

30three: like Kendall Jenner or something 😭

rbgirl: no because when i saw that TikTok with his Raya profile I actually jumped!!!!

dutch1: sooooooooo who's gonna help a girl out and let Max know i'm free any day of the week!

vermax: no fr I wish he would do a Jeremy Fragrence type thing so I could apply to be his girlfriend 😒

verstappen4life: NOT THE JEREMY FRAGRANCE LMAODHJ

maxisfast: I never thought this day would come...@/maxverstappen1 OF COURSE I'LL MARRY YOU

frmlamax: yeah so, actually, he was on those dates with me sos xx

jimandsas1: hey, girly! so I know we don't know each other but...

maxstap1: dates. DATES. we all see that s at the end of DATE right? oh those lucky girls...

twitter

vetyn’s story

translation: “new client”

twitter

vetyn

liked by lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux and 2,954 others

vetyn: joyeux anniversaire à moi 🥳 (happy anniversary to me)

it's been 6 AMAZING years of having my dream job. feeling very grateful today. can't wait to keep learning, growing and meeting adorable friends 💘

245 comments

lilymhe: LETS GOOOO YN! WE'RE ALL SUPER PROUD! (but mostly me duh)

vetyn: thank you! you're my fav! (don't tell alex pls)

alex_albon: Oh ok. Cool. We pick favorites now.

char16: now WHAT is going on in the albono house 😭

ynbestfriend: ily girl. can't wait to celebrate you this weekend 😝

liked by vetyn

alexandrasaintmleux: Félicitations, belle ❤️‍🔥

vetyn: merci belle 🥰

albon_pets: Thanks for everything, doc 🤓

liked by vetyn

ynfriend: so proud!

roscoelovescoco: All's My Love's Dr. YN

vetyn: Awwww thank you Roscoe, I miss ya!

russ63: NOW WHY AM I JUST FINDING OUT YN IS ROSCOE'S VET TOO????

ham1lton: omg yes. I believe he was the og f1-related client and then it was the albon pets

ynsister: love you. almost reunited 🇪🇸

liked by vetyn

rumorhasitf1

liked by maxlov3r and 5,728 others

rumorhasitf1: Looks like Max Verstappen had a wild night out celebrating his 6th win of the season in Barcelona 👀

1,034 comments

rbgirl: THAT SHOULD BE ME HOLDING YOUR HAND THAT SHOULD BE ME MAKING YOU LAUGH THAT SHOULD BE ME THIS IS SO SAD THAT SHOULD BE MEEEEEE THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE

maxstap1: you're so quick with it LMFAO

maxlovescats: WOAH I JUST WOKE UP?????

butfirstmax: honestly i'm so happy for him go live your life king

maxisfast: is this like his frat boy era

hamstappen: I swear if they're back together and I threw that party for nothing

hamstappen: just kidding hehe

rbgirl: HELPPPPPPPPPP

vermax: rb pr team prob freaking out as we speak

30three: and Max is sleeping soundly

sluttycatdad: IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS

maxielno1: okay now... doesn't that kinda look like....

justaninchident: that's what I was thinking too

username: wait who

maxielno1: his ex

maxverstappen1

liked by redbullracing, vetyn and 1,309,672 others

maxverstappen1: Barcelona, that was fun! Let's do it again?

23,672 comments

redbullracing: 🦁

rbgirl: oh trust we saw it was fun

maxisfast: 😭

maxielno1: SIMPLY LOVELY 🥰

f1fan: LETS GO CHAMP 🙌

vetyn: mega! 💙💙

maxverstappen1: 😘💙

albono33: YN?

rbgirl: idk who this is but what is happenig here....

30three: so proud of you! 🧡

verstappen4life: yes! let’s do this everytime!

vermax: great job!!!! glad you had fun 😉

martingarrix: Mate how was the club?

maxverstappen1: Pretty good 😂

f1fan: 🔥🔥🔥

somedutchguy: LEGEND

twitter

vetyn's story

to be continued..

⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩

a/n: y’all probably caught on already but this is set during the 2024 season anddddd i just wanted to do one part but tumblr is super annoying with the image limit 🙁 but lmk if you’re interested in a pt. 2! have a great day/night 🫶💐

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cherry-hulu · 3 months ago

Text

— Better than me?

Synopsis: You were a smart girl, always praised for your wit and speed. But why is it that you go dumb and speechless whenever you're with him?

Warnings: CEO!KMG x CEO!Reader, enemies to ???, fubus undercover as rivals, cheating, slight voyeurism, jealous mingyu, he has no rights though lol, throat-fucking, face-fucking, dirty talk, mg is very vocal, belly bulge, throat bulge, oral (f & m receiving)

Mingyu would consider himself to be a pretty level headed person. Having been raised to become a bussiness man, patience was once of the key things that was taught to him— after all, good things come to those who wait. He'd implement this lesson pretty well for most of his 27 years of living, and so it is. Until you.

He doesn't know why but his patience runs on thin ice with you. Not that you were oblivious to it, you were practically skating on it doing flips and twirls whenever you want to shaving the ice as thin as possible. You were his enemy after all, it was your job to do so.

The spot for number will never be empty for as long as Mingyu lives, he swears on it. But he wasn't the only one who did so apparently. Both you and Mingyu were rivals for as long as possible, always competing with each other for as long as you've known each others name. From small quarrels, to board games, to sports, to school rankings, to games, and to now— company rankings.

An inevitable tension grew between the two of you, a new layer added to it's thickness every passing day. Everybody knew of it, both of you knew of it. Never has there been an interaction between the two of you that didn't made his nerves be at it's heights and your heart beat at it's quickest.

No eye contact was shared with each other without a special look that the two of you only have for one another. No skinship was shared with each other without the tight vice of his grip on you, so tight that if you weren't enemies you'd assume that he didn't wanted to let go of you. No words were shared between the two of you without a voice of taunt used to deliver it.

You hated each other. So fucking much. Mingyu had never hated anyone or anything in his life more than you. Everything related to you had him seething in anger and frustration. Your name, your face, your body, everything. Mingyu thought you've reached his limit of anger when you surpassed him once during your high school days, but it proves to be false as he watches you sit and be and lovely dovey with your so called boyfriend.

He had a crystal clear blue of the both of you from the balcony of the palace of which the event was held at. He should be happy, everything was for him after all. The party was thrown in celebration of a big deal sealed by him for his company. A partnership of which many would only dream of to achieve. He should be celebrating, sipping champagne and basking himself in the compliments of praises, but all was neglected the very second he saw you with your very own newly formed partnership.

Mental sirens were blaring in his mind as he watches the guys hand roam all over you. From your hands, to your hips, to your waist. His jaw was tense as he tsked before gulping down his drink. The hatred between the two of you stemmed from anger, but it always bloomed due to lust. The eve so calm and controlled Kim Mingyu now gone, all because of you. It's always been has only beenyou that has made him lose himself.

In almost of a blink of an eye, he was gone from the balcony and was stepping foot down to the dance floor, straight next to you. "How have you been enjoying yourself?" Mingyu asks standing tall beside you, both his hands in the pocket of his suit. Your eyes widen at his sudden presence, shifting a little as you try your best to maintain eye contact with him. You knew. Of course you do.

"We've been well. Thank you Mingyu, for asking." You say with a tight voice. Your face appeared as blank to others but it was a look that Mingyu knew all too well. It was your way of warning him.

He raised his eyebrows when he notices the hand of your boyfriend creep up around your waist. The very waist he was licking kissing, and bruising not even a week ago. He was more than sure that his handprints were still evident across your body. Especially the ones he'd repeatedly imprint on your ass. It relieves him in some way, he was sure that there was no way were you gonna have sex with your so called boyfriend with the ebidents of him all over your body.

A small but clearly cocky smirk appears on his face before he conceals it with a smile. With a blank face and muted mouth, you stare directly into his eyes using it as your way of communication. He does nothing but lean his head sideward, eyes staring right back at you.

To the eye of the public, this was seen as an interaction induced by your competition. To the eye of the public, you were sworn enemies, not wanting to be an inch nearer to each other than you were now, pushing each others button. What they didn't knew was behind the walls of Mingyu's very own penthouse— there was less than inch of space between the two of you, hands all over each others body, skin to skin, frantically undoing each others buttons.

He scans your body, head to toe, before giving a quick glance at the man beside you. "I'll see you around then." He says while looking eye to eye with the man. The depths of his words go far beyond the surface with a deep history that would shake the media. And no, it wasn't for your boyfriend despite having Mingyu having his eyes on him.

Giving both of you a tight lipped smile and a toast with his champagne glass, Mingyu turns around to leave taking a turn to a place far away from the crowd. You knew what this meant, this has happened so many tines before. Mingyu baiting you into coming with him, and it worked like a charm every damn time.

You followed his route, seizing the opportunity of your boyfriend being occupied in a conversation with someone else. Entering the corridor, you notice a door slightly ajar with a dim light inside. Assuming it was him, you opened the room and saw no one. Confused, you still continue to enter.

All the curtains were tied neatly to either side of the windows leaving the light to enter the room. A chandelier was attached to the ceiling but it only emitted very little. There was a sofa on either side of the room and a fireplace in the middle attached to the wall.

As you walk forward, you hear the door close behind you but noticed no click indicating that it wasn't locked. You turn around and was faced with none other than Mingyu. His perfume englufs the room as he takes steps towards you. "M- Mingyu.. " You stutter with a quivering voice, eyes wide as you take your own steps, but backwards until you fell backwards on the sofa.

Mingyu looks down at you holding your chin with his left hand while caressing your cheeks as he forces you to look up at him. "Tell me.. how did you two meet?" He asks tauntingly, keeping eye contact with you, holding your face in place thus forcing you to do the same.

His voice was stern yet soft. It was hard enough to be demanding, but soft enough for it to not feel threatening. Slowly, you recount the story of how you met your boyfriend.

"I met him through a friend, Ally introduced me to him, immediately he made a move on me–" Mingyu's hand wrap around your neck. "Go on.." He says with a blank face, voice still same as it was. You hesitated, but still went on not wanting to get him irritated with you.

"And I reciprocated.. he was funny and I thought why not give him a chance. I trust Ally and she wouldn't be friends with bad people. After that he asked for my number an–" Mingyu slips his thumb on your mouth leaving it open on that tone.

"You meet a guy once and you give him his number. Out of all the people in the world, you choose someone barely taller than you, a figure worse than your uncles, and a position not on par with yours." He spits out as he flattens his thumb on your tongue forcing it open.

You gulp unconsciously, eyes doe and wide at him with your hands now resting on his hips. Mingyu hathers his saliva before spits directly in your mouth— and just like clockwork— you swallow immediately before he suddenly kisses you. It was hard, messy, and sloppy.

He had his hand gripping your neck with his thumb resting on your throat, slowly obstructing your airway as he chokes you while his free hand was undoing his pants open before pulling away to leave you panting and breathless. His boxers now coming to face you with his dick standings so tall it's peeking above the cloth.

"To say that I'm disappointed would be an under statement." Mingyu mutters, fully taking his rock hard dick out and using it to slap your cheeks twice. The sound echoes the room and you whimper at him.

You didn't knew why you weren't lashing out on him, why you weren't disobeying and saying no. Your words hold weight above him, a single 'no' is all it takes for you to leave. And yet you don't. You sit still and take it all.

Aiming to open your mouth to speak, a gasp was all that's let out before he rests his cock on your tongue. It was heavy, you can feel it weighing your mouth down. Mingyu smirks as he taps his cock on your tongue, slowly and lightly thrusting forward as he slides it down yout throat.

He slides his right hand to your head holding it in place while his left rests around your throat before he begins to pick up his pace beginning to fuck your mouth. You feel the tip of his dick slide in and out of your throat creating a bulge that Mingyu was feeling with his hands, harshly rubbing on it everytime it bumps.

"What a beautiful throat wasted on the wrong man. Should've called him with you, he's missing out on a show." Mingyu utters with deep groans in between chuckling when he looks down to see your eyes slowly widen. "Dick so good you forget about everything hm? Thought you were a smart woman, where's that brain of yours now?" He follows.

Your eyes become glassy as you start to hold on to his hips in hopes of a slower pace. Mingyu halts his movements lodging his dick down your throat so deep that it creates a bulge. Moving his hands from your body, he removes his necktie before grabbing your wrist and placing them behind you tightly putting it in a tie together.

"Let's put that good memory of yours to use. 'M gonna make sure you and your body never forgets me. Gonna imprint my dick inside you, rearrange your guts and organs in a way that no other dick can feel good inside because it's perfectly molded for me." Mingyu promises, sliding out your mouth.

You were a sight to see. Mouth wide open with a mix of saliva and pre-cum dripping out, chest heaving up and down, a dazed look on your face, tears ruining your makeup, and your hands tied behind your back.

The thought of anyone but Mingyu seeing you in this state sends fury to his veins making them pop. Only he can make you like this, only he has the right. The only man that has ever and the only man that ever will. He swears on that.

"Where did this dress come from? Did he gave this to you? Chose it for you? Bought it for you?" Mingyu questions you, making you look up at him with his index finger on your chin, an eye brow raised. Slowly, you begin to nod at him. Your boyfriend did all three. The dress came from him.

You didn't need to tell Mingyu that because the second he saw an upward movement of your head, the dress was ripped off your body, thrown somewhere in the room. The sight that befalls before him angers him more. You were wearing a red lingerie. Mingyu's favourite color.

Immediately laying you down on your back, he bends down to leave hickeys all over your body. Especially on the areas you always warned him not to. And as per usual, you do nothing but sit there and take it. Mingyu was too good, it was dangerous.

Tearing down your panties with his teeth and ripping it halfway of removing it, he dives in immediately salvitating your dripping pussy. You were so wet it was unfathomable. Mingyu was practically slurping down on your juices as you withered and shaked below him. His hands grip the circumference of your waist holding you down while he licks and flicks your cunt.

"Min- gyu.. Mingy... Mingyu... Mingyu... plea... please.. sir... daddy... please.." You beg, body rolling on his mouth. "Please what baby?" Mingyu replies looking up at you, mouth still attatched on your cunt. "H.. hands.." You whimper, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he intensifies his movements. All it took was just one single slip of his finger inside you to get you squirting on him.

"Fuck yeah baby, let it out, all for me. Only for me." Mingyu moans rapidly flicking his finger inside you making you bend your body like crazy and moaning so loudly. He takes his finger out but rubs his thumb on your bud still stimulating you.

With your legs propped up against his chest, your ankles near his neck, he slides his dick inside your pussy, moaning out immediately as he feels you suck him in. "Perfect fucking fit." He moans before rapidly thrusting inside of you.

With your hands tied behind yout back, all you could do was to bend your body up and down while he fucks you like crazy. The combination of Mingyu's thumb flicking your clit while hitting your G-spot at every thrust was making you shake like crazy, producing sounds only heard on certain websites.

Mingyu rests hands on your belly bulge formed by his cock quickly disappearing and reappearing before leaning down to kiss and bite all over your body, as if his mess earlier wasn't enough.

He leans near your ear, hips and hands still at the same quick pace as he whispers: "Tell me... has he ever made you feel this good? Hm? Made you make these sounds? Make you go this insane?" He pauses, slowing down his movements and straightening his posture.

You gasp, eyes widening as you whimper at him. "Answer me." He commands. You quickly shake your head no, doing your best to maintain eye contact with him without rolling your eyes back as you feel the tip of his dick put pressure on your g-spot.

"That's right. No one ever will. Wanna know why? Hm? Darling?" Mingyu hums, languidly thrusting forward as he leans on you again. His hands now gripping the back of the sofa, biceps flexing with defined veins. "Because nobody is better than me." He says, thrusting after every word. "I'm the best you'll ever have." He whispers in your face before rapidly starting to thrust again.

It only took a thrust and a half for you to start squirting and shaking harder than before. Mingyu was relentless as he continued his hip movements taking advantage of your wetness. Deciding to have some mercy, he pulls on his tie releasing your hands from it's vice into which you reacted to by frantically holding onto his wrist as you orgasmed.

You knew your was still long as you've come to realize that he hasn't even cummed yet. Mingyu wraps your legs around his torso as he picks you up. He stands in the middle of the room, in front of the mirror above the fireplace before turning you around so you'd come face to face with your own reflection.

You looked like a mess, as you always were every after meet up with him. He rapidly began thrusting in you again, holding your legs apart, watching his dick disappear into your cunt with the only sign of it's presence inside you is the bulge in his stomach and your never ending moans.

"Who's making you feel this good?" He whispers in yout eye keeping his stare on your reflection. "Mingyu.. " You moan out throwing your head back on his shoulders while grinding your hips as he thrusts harshly on your g-spot. "Only Mingyu," You whisper in his ear in between your helpless moans.

Mingyu starts to walk again, this time towards the window at the other side of the fireplace. He puts you on your feet making sure to support your hody to keep you from falling before beginning to move his hips again. And if you thought he couldn't reach any deeper, you were proven so damn wrong when you feel the tip of his dick slowly protrude your cervix.

"Gonna get in there and cum baby. Gonna mark you mine. Only mind. You'd look so good filled with me." He groans in your ear, gripping your wrist as you cling onto the window. "All it takes is one look up for the people to see how much of a whore you are for me. It'd be a perk if your little boy toy saw you look this, it's a sight he nor anyone but me will never ever be able to replicate." He follows thrusts now harder snd deeper than before.

Your ass jiggles against his hips urging him to slap it, grip it, and mark it his before turning you around agian to face him. The consistency of his movements now long gone as he raises you up pressing you harshly against the window.

You've gone cockdumb, just like always, nothing but a fleshlight to him, bending you in ways he pleases. You don't know how, but everything about you seems to be turned upside down when you're with Mingyu. You're quick witted and cocky attitude long gone as you gets stuffed with his dick.

Only his dick. No one elses.

It doesn't take long for you to cum again, and for the first time this whole evening, Mingyu cums as well, immediately after you. Resting your forehead against each other, you engage in a sloopy yet soft kiss as you calm down from your highs.

The moonlight shine reflects on his sweaty skin as he pulls away, chest heaving as he stares down at you. With the two of you still connected to each other, he sits on the sofa, legs spread wide making you straddle him. You lean on Mingyu's chest resting your cheeks on his abs taking this moment to rest.

You were far from done. You both knew that, this was only prep for what's about to become. Mingyu reaches for his phone on the floor and as he does he looks over to your own phone that starts to ring. The caller ID showed the word 'Boyfriend' on it.

Mingyu takes yours instead and without any second thoughts, he pressed the big green button to answer it's call. With you still sitting on his lap, he presses your phone against your ear holding an intense eye contact with you.

You gasp in shock as you hear your boyfriends voice on the phone, but this was prolonged by Mingyu as he slowly starts to rub on your clit again with a dirty smirk on his face.

"Go on.. answer him." He jeers, voice low and husky. "H.. hEy," You say ovrer the phone, voice raspy due to all your screaming and moaning. "I've been doing all the talking so far, wouldn't it be unfair if I didn't gave you a chance?" He teases you with a playful grin on his face.

You were still extremely sensitive, it hadn't even been fifteen minutes sibce your first round. But Mingyu doesn't seem to care as he grabs your hips to roll you on his dick. You helplessly follow with a limp body, you had no energy to move.

Oh this was going to be a long, long night.

#seventeen #seventeen smut #seventeen x you #kim mingyu #kim mingyu smut #kpop smut #kim mingyu x you #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu fanfic #mingyu x reader #mingyu fanfic #mingyu #mingyu smut #ceo kim mingyu

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