#His ponytail hits differently

[judesmoonbeauty]

UM, HOW ARE WE NOT GOING TO TALK ABOUT NOKTO’S HAIR IN A PONYTAIL LIKE THIS???

*WOOF WOOF BARK BARK*

[doctorsiren]

Maybe you could call it Reunited Stans AU?

Also, how do you think the gravity falls locals would see those two? I think Ford would end up getting out of the cabin much more because of Stan. Maybe you could draw them going to town for drinks? I don't know.

I like to think the town locals would either be horrified of them and talk about them as cryptids in their own right, or just be annoyed by their shenanigans

I just remembered they’d be in their early 20s when coming to Gravity Falls haha

But yes they’d definitely start out as “those weird twins that live in the forest” but once Stanley starts feeling like he’s actually safe from that old life Ford pulled him out of, he starts going into the town, which then leads to him dragging Ford along

It’s probably a mix of both, where the town sees them as those odd guys and then also get annoyed by what they do, but also I think they’d think of them as a new endearing staple of their town once the whole “newcomer / stranger” title fades from them. It’d be sort of the same way Stan is in canon with the Mystery Shack, where even though people find him annoying, they also always come to the events.

Also Stanley 😭 your brother does not wanna be in that bar, let him go do nerd things

[murmurmurl]

I actually find gender swapping characters really interesting (what part of their expression is dictated by gender norms vs certain events in their life vs their personal preferences that wouldn't change either way, etc.) so now I wanna draw what that would look like in my ocs except I am in pain rn so I'm forced to just lie there and be plagued by visions

[split-spectrum]

YOU'VE GOT TO LEARN

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Tags: extremely dubious consent, non-con elements, explicit sexual content, exhibitionism, age gap, established relationship, jealousy, possessive!joel, softdom!joel, unprotected sex, alcohol, hair pulling

Length: 3.3K

Summary: At a client's house party, you catch yourself getting jealous of other eyes on Joel. Joel pulls you aside to show you exactly what he thinks of that.

This is my first time writing for Joel Miller, so please go easy on me <3

☆☆☆

What is it about Joel that makes him most attractive when he's stuck somewhere he doesn't want to be?

You tip back the last of your whiskey sour, gazing at the tight creases in the corners of his eyes as he nods along with the blond guy who's been talking for twenty painful minutes about the crypto market. Joel is leaning back, arms folded over his chest, his big shoulders pushing at the seams of his denim shirt.

He once told you that no one besides you could tell his emotions on his face. You'd laughed and called bullshit at the time, telling him every thought in that pretty head of his showed up plain as day on his face, but right now it doesn't seem to matter. He's been looking like he'd swallowed glass since this guy started talking, and it doesn't seem to make a bit of difference to him.

When Joel had asked if you wanted to come along to the holiday party one of his clients was having at his house, you'd said yes even after hearing that the guy was 'kind of an idiot' and you'd probably be 'bored to tears'. Joel would have skipped it, but unfortunately it was one of his biggest clients, and the invitation wasn't one he could politely decline.

Right now, though, you're sort of wishing you'd listened to him. The party stopped being fun somewhere around the second MLM scheme that had been pitched to you, and you're now counting the minutes until you'll hit the mark Joel set on the drive there: "Least a couple hours - then we can head out."

The guy takes a short pause, then launches into another tirade on bitcoin, and you realize you're going to need another drink to get through it. Joel's arm slips from around your waist as you pull away.

"Be right back, fellas. I'm going to get a refill."

Joel's brows lift as you leave him behind. "Now hold on there. Wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I let you get your own drink-"

You wave him off, trying to hold in a smirk. "No really, I need to take a lap. Stretch my legs."

He licks his lips, looks off to the side for a second before calling after you, "Grab me one on your way back, will ya?"

You smile innocently. "You got it."

After your host declines your offer to get him something, you head to the kitchen, making a little chit chat on your way to the well-stocked fridge. You decide to get Joel's beer before you return to the open bar to ask for another drink of your own. You hook your knuckles around the neck of a Modelo, no sooner closing the door to the fridge before you glance back in Joel's direction, seeing he's been joined by a few more people.

It isn't surprising. Joel's the type of guy who tends to draw attention, and not just because of his looks. He's the guy who's in charge, even when he's not in charge. People gravitate toward him; just something about his presence that makes him the most interesting thing in every room.

In spite of that, your attention isn't on him at the moment. It's on the girl making moon eyes beside him. She's tossing a long, shiny ponytail behind her shoulder and grinning ear to ear despite the fact that bitcoin boy hasn't stopped talking.

Picking up a bottle opener, you pop the cap off the beer in your hand by muscle memory, not able to tear your eyes off of them. Joel's attention is still on the host, but when she says something to him, you watch him pull his chin back to nod, holding her in the corner of his eye to give a quick smile.

Kelly, you remember. That's her name. She's the receptionist at the client's office, and she's probably seen more of Joel this month than you have.

You watch as she cranks up her smile another thousand watts, laughing at something one of the other guys in the group has said. Kelly, you think. No. Probably spells it with an i. Kelli. Probably dots it with a heart.

Your face is starting to warm up, and when someone on the other side of the kitchen counter gently asks if you're alright, you clear your throat, then reply that you're fine as you quickly open the fridge for a second Modelo. It's time for you to slow down on the whiskey.

As you make your way back to the group, you catch Kelly/Kelli's eyes and give her a subdued smile. She blinks and smiles back, suddenly looking very shy.

"Now what did I miss?" you ask, when the men dissolve into laughter.

Henry, one of the contractors under Joel, shakes his head. "It ain't worth repeating in the presence of a lady."

The host interjects, "So what do you call Kelly?"

Henry puts an arm around her shoulder. "Aw, she's heard it all before, haven'tcha?"

"That don't mean she wants to hear it from you!" one of the other men shouts, and there's another round of laughter while you bite your lip, watching Joel's eyes as they dip to Henry's arm.

You wrap your lips around the tip of the bottle in your hand, letting the taste of the beer give your mouth an excuse to look sour. Henry's hand is dropping from Kelly's shoulder down to her waist, and while the conversation carries on, Joel leans in close so that only Henry - and you - can hear.

"Cool it, Henry."

"Huh?" comes the slow reply, as he pretends not to have understood him.

Joel just lifts his brows, and that's all it takes for Henry to back off, looking a little sheepish as he unwinds himself from Kelly, who looks more than a little relieved.

Henry turns to you, suddenly trying to make small talk, to save face. "Have you two met? This's our girl Kelly. She takes good care of us, don'tcha, sweetheart?"

You give a polite smile. "We've met. Nice to see you, again. Both of you."

"Uh huh," Henry answers half-heartedly before he wanders off, perhaps to join another conversation, or just to find another drink.

Kelly gives you another polite smile, then as the host starts to back away, bringing the rest of the group with him, she goes along with the crowd. Before she leaves, though, she softly murmurs to Joel, "Thanks for that."

He answers with a stiff nod, but it's more than enough to put the stars back in her eyes as she walks away, leaving the two of you alone.

You're biting your lip again, practically chewing on it, as you dangle Joel's beer by the throat, handing it over to him.

"Thank you," he says, then tips it back immediately.

You don't reply, lost in thought, but pretending nonchalance as you watch the group leave.

"Meant what I said, though," Joel adds in your silence. "Shoulda let me get it. I don't like to have you wanderin' around on your own. Not with this bunch of degenerates."

You smirk. "What, like Henry?"

"For one, yeah," he says, turning to face you now that the sounds of the party are fading into the background. "Lookin' the way you do, won't be able to keep their eyes or their hands off ya."

You laugh him off, but can't pretend that his voice isn't settling right in the bottom of your stomach. He's standing a little closer, now, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, mixed with the spice of his cologne. Something about him talking this way puts some boldness into you, and your words come out a bit more reckless than they should.

"Well, maybe you should have asked Kelly to get your drink, then."

He looks dumbfounded for a moment, and you widen your smile to show you're joking.

"I mean, I'm sure she would have," you go on, digging yourself deeper even as your heart kicks up faster. If you'd switched to beer two drinks ago, you probably would have explained yourself better. You would have insisted it was just a joke, because she so clearly has a crush on him. But your words are just swimming in all that whiskey.

"Cute little thing like that," you say, shrugging. "Probably don't mind her 'taking care of you', do ya?"

Joel's eyes are fixed on you, voice easing down into his chest when he asks softly, warningly, "What did you just say?"

He's turned all the way toward you, and all at once the room feels so much smaller, your face so much hotter. He's waiting for an answer, and your breath is caught high in your throat. "I-uh... it was just... nothing."

He's very slowly setting down his beer, looking down to a side table. "Wasn't nothing; I heard it." He looks back up at you, pinning you hard where you stand. "Now repeat it. Wanna make sure I heard you right."

You swallow, mouth dry. "I nn-nothing, I just said..." You force a crooked smile that you know he isn't buying for a second. "Y'know... she's- she's pretty cute, and maybe you... maybe she oughta... 'cause maybe you want her to..."

Your babbling doesn't impress him. He's just staring at you under a darkened brow. He opens his mouth to say something, but the motion of someone else entering the room catches your eye and you snap defensively before he can say anything.

"Joel, I didn't mean-"

He follows your gaze, then turns away and shuts you up with a wide, heavy palm sliding to the small of your back. "C'mere," he says. "C'mon." And the way he breathes it as he guides you out of the room and down the hall, you don't argue.

He finds a bathroom and pushes you inside. While you're looking over his shoulder to make sure no one sees you going in together, he's staring straight ahead, and he closes the door with one hand, still holding you with the other.

"I'm... sorry," you confess as soon as the door closes. "That was stupid. I don't know why I said it."

"Yeah," he grunts, crowding you up against the closed door. "You do."

The way he has you held close, arm around your waist and words warm against your mouth, you'd normally try to kiss him right about now. But looking into his eyes, you know there's no kiss waiting for you on his lips.

He's mad, and you're a little scared. Not scared of him, but scared of what he might do at a party where people might hear. People that he has to work with on Monday.

He isn't drunk, but he's had a few, and your fear ratchets up when his hand slides to your backside, gripping your ass and kneading it as he growls, "You think I give a goddamn about some teenager?"

Despite the way he's manhandling you through your dress, you can't help but roll your eyes. "She's not a teenager."

She isn't really that much younger than you are. And with Joel in his fifties, the thought has crossed your mind that he might just be keeping you around because he got a thing for younger women. You'd just never said anything out loud. Until tonight.

He stops, pulls back. "Alright, guess I'm not bein' clear enough."

He takes you by both arms, pushes you against the sink so you're looking at yourself in the mirror. Behind you, he starts unbuckling his belt.

"Joel..." you whisper, heat pulsing through you just from the sound of the metal clinking. You know you should ask him to stop - is the door even fucking locked? - but you can't get any other words out besides his name.

He slides a hand under your dress, pushing it up and over the swell of your ass. He doesn't slow down, doesn't even run his hand over your skin. He just pushes your panties to the side, pressing the head of his cock right up against your pussy, holding it there as he grits against your ear, "Guess I gotta show you where I want to be."

He pushes the thick head inside you, wrapping one arm around your stomach to keep you from falling forward. His other hand is flat on the sink, not playing with you, not easing anything. He doesn't give you any prep, just shoves in slowly, his cock stretching you all in one go.

You hiss, brow pinching. He didn't even let you get wet enough to take him. You can feel every damn move he makes inside you as he shifts his hips closer to pin you hard against the cold edge of the sink. When he's all the way in, you watch your mouth pop open in the mirror as you take a few panting breaths. The stretch is almost unbearable, but feeling so full of him, you don't want to stop.

He eases out, just a couple inches to coat himself in your slick, then presses back in even harder. You feel like your lungs are going to give out from how tight your gasps are getting.

"Fuck, Joel... hurts," you whine.

He slowly slides you off of him, then feeds it right back in.

"I know it does, honey," he breathes against your neck. "I know it does."

His deep voice makes you pulse around his cock and he drags his big, calloused hand down to the front of your dress, lifting it up just far enough to see your pussy, stuffed full of him. You're leaking down the sides of his cock, glistening in the dim light of the bathroom.

"See that?" he asks, unmoving. "That's where I wanna be. You hear me?"

Giving a shaky nod of your head, you whimper, "Yes."

He starts to piston in and out of you, and you can only watch. You close your eyes tight when he speeds up a little. "It's... mm- it's too much."

He doesn't change his pace. "Ain't about feelin' good. You've got to learn."

He groans when your pussy clenches around him, and you follow with an answering moan as the tension in your muscles starts to fade. You're soaking down both sides of your inner thighs as he opens you up further.

When you've dissolved into whimpering his name, he hooks one arm around your leg from behind, lifting it up so that you're spread wider. His other hand is still holding up your dress.

"Look at that," he grunts, making an obscene display of his cock fucking into your pussy. "Look how fucking hard you make me, baby."

You whine again, struck dumb by how good he feels with every snap of his hips. "God, feels so good... please..."

He's dragging his teeth against your neck when he replies, "Please?"

"Please, Joel. Feels so fucking good," you repeat, eyes closed.

You want him to fuck you properly, to bend you over and make you take him, to use his fingers - to let you use yours - anything; it doesn't matter. You're so worked up, you just need a little more.

"M'not gonna give you what you want, darlin'," he answers. "Don't work like that."

You can't help but loose a plaintive moan, even knowing you deserve it. "Baby, please-"

He drops your knee, letting your leg come down to the floor as he bends you over the sink. When he starts to fuck you for real, you can't hold it together anymore, softly pleading and whining for more, begging him not to stop, opening your eyes to watch him in the mirror as he starts to lose himself, too.

Until a knock at the door jars you right out of it.

"Is anybody in there?"

Joel doesn't even slow down. Just flattens his palm along your lower back to bend you back over after you jolt up.

"Joel-" you hiss. But he keeps giving you exactly what you need, and your eyes roll back.

"Hello?"

He slides a warm hand down the open neckline of your dress, kneading your breast as he looks at you in the mirror. His brown eyes are stern and steady. "Answer."

He keeps feeding you his cock, and you hiccup, legs shaking as you whisper, "I- I don't..."

"Go on and tell 'em. You're busy."

Fuck fuck fuck. "Uhh, s-someone's in here!"

Your voice comes out strained and airy, and you wait for the reply while Joel kisses the skin of your shoulder, sliding the front of your dress down.

"Joel, it's... somebody is..."

"Nothin' in here that I wanna hide," he growls, pushing his hips right up against your ass as he circles a thumb around one of your nipples.

"Fuck, Joel..." The silence outside has been long enough that the person is probably gone, but your pulse is still pounding, and he's making it so fucking hard to think. "Oh my god, yes..."

He's quietly panting, lifts his head long enough to say, "Understand now, pretty girl?"

"Mm..."

"This here's right where I wanna be. Nowhere else," he grunts, pressing his weight down on you, the squelching sounds between your bodies getting louder than your moans. Your eyes are drawn up to the mirror, watching the veins in his neck tighten as he fucks into you harder and harder. "You got it?"

You frantically nod, desperately near the edge of coming. "Fuck, yes, mhm..."

"Maybe I oughta fill you up right here, leave you with somethin' to think about."

"N-no," you stutter, almost sounding like you're sobbing your words. "P-please, I get it. I heard what you s-said."

He has to let you come. You don't care that you were acting up, making something out of nothing. You don't care what got him mad at you. All you can think about is how flushed his chest is beneath the open collar of his shirt, how tight his grip is, how stiff his jaw is set. You just want to listen to that throaty growl, feel him mercilessly fucking you a little while longer. That's all it would take. Just a little bit...

"Fuck-"

Joel pulls out, hand tightening into a fist around himself. You slump against the sink.

"Goddamn, baby. Almost got me, there."

You're on the verge of tears, shuddering with wild breaths. "No, fuck, Joel, please please please-"

He grips a handful of your ass, fingers brushing through your wetness and making you whimper.

"Told you, I ain't giving you what you want."

You hear him zip up his jeans, and then his hand is back at your ass, but this time he's pulling your panties back into place and tugging your dress down.

"Never gonna learn that way."

You whine pitifully, knowing you brought this on yourself, but still pleading under your breath, face drawn tight with frustration.

He helps you stand up properly, giving you his arm to steady yourself. You straighten your dress, cleaning up your appearance in the mirror, and eventually you're able to leave the bathroom, walking out on trembling legs.

He gives you a smirk as you leave the hallway, and something in you finally snaps. Maybe it's a little unfair, but you know exactly what to say to knock that smirk off his face.

You lean in and whisper in his ear, "Guess you didn't want me that bad after all, or you would have finished."

And all of ten minutes later, you're in the cab of his truck. You're screaming his name as you come all over his cock, hands fisted in his hair, tugging it hard while he pumps you full of his cum, cursing you the whole time.

Turns out, he's the one who's never gonna learn.

--

A/N: Thanks for reading! I don't have a taglist for Joel, but I'll add one if I ever write for him again. Hope you enjoyed! :)

Masterlist

[dolcekissy]

minty , ღ

: ̗̀➛ bunny!reader giving bsf!rafe head while using those mint drooling tablets while rafe records it.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ main masterlist | bunny!reader x bsf!rafe masterlist

disclaimer // 18+ content. this story includes oral sex, and a lot of spit ;)

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you were bored ─ thumbs scrolling as you skipped through videos on tiktok. rafe invited you over just to chill in his bed and spend the night together, you loved spending time with rafe but you were fucking bored.

rafe laying down in his bed next to you, mindlessly scrolling through instagram ─ stopping to watch different reels and like pictures people posted. he stopped ─ his head snapping over to you and your phone when you gasped.

"oh my god! rafe look at this!" you shoved your phone in his face, showing him a video of a girl laughing with wide eyes ─ her mouth opened as saliva poured out of her mouth. "ew, what the fuck." he groaned out, his brows furrowing as he looked away.

"no way that shits real!" you laughed, clicking on the link to look at the little mints and reading the description. "we have to try these, that's so funny." you giggled, immediately adding it to your cart and purchasing it.

rafe scoffed and continued scrolling through his phone, "that shits not real ─ bet it's a scam or some shit."

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a few days passed and your package came in the mail, you excitedly opened it and texted rafe to pick you up. you were going to surprise him and try to get him to try them with you.

rafe had totally forgotten about them, so when you pulled out a little bright package he furrowed his brows at you ─ asking you what that is.

"it's those mint tablet things i showed you ─ the ones that make you drool a lot, told you we were trying them." you giggle, opening the package and popping one in your mouth.

"you've gotta be kidding me." rafe scoffed, he looked at the little package and read the strength ─ not even a minute later you're opening the car door and laughing as saliva starts dripping down your chin and onto the ground.

"rafe! oh my god look!" you step out of his car, holding your hair back with your hands as your mouth drips and pours. rafe shakes his head and gets out of the car, walking over to you as you look up at him with a laugh.

you stick your tongue out and watch your spit pour down onto the ground with wide eyes. his eyes widened and his dick is immediately hardening when your wide eyes meet his.

"how long does that last." he asked, trying to adjust his pants as you looked down at the ground glistening in your spit. you shrug with a laugh, "i dunno ─ they said people use this for cotton mouth but i bet people use it to suck dick."

he shook his head ─ watching you close your mouth for a moment before opening it again, spit pouring down your lips and chin. you look up at him with raised eyebrows, his eyebrows raising too as he waits for you to say something.

"wanna try it?"

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you're on your knees in the back of rafe's car ─ holding all the saliva that's been begging to come out as rafe eagerly pulls his sweatpants and underwear down. you quickly grab his cock with one hand and open your mouth, letting everything drip on him.

he groans at the feeling of your warm spit and the sight of you in front of him. his hands pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail as you wrap your lips around his cock ─ your dripping tongue twirling around his pink tip.

"shittt." he groans. you begin bopping your head on his cock, feeling your spit run down and your chin and drip onto the floor of his car. he grabs his phone sitting next to him, pulling the camera app up and turning the flash on while he records you.

your eyes meet the camera lens as you let his cock hit the back of your throat ─ his groans going straight to your needy pussy. after a few moments of literally slurping on his dick, he guides your head up and down his cock before pulling your head back.

"fuckkk, m'gonna cum ─ stick your tongue out, doll."

you stick your tongue out, letting the camera watch your saliva and his warm seed drip off your tongue and onto his cock ─ the seat below him glistening and his thick cock shining.

"mmm, 's your turn rafey." you lean over, grabbing the pack and popping one into his mouth ─ immediately switching positions with him and pulling your lace panties down, your ass laying flat against the puddle of spit as you wait for him to create an even bigger puddle while he drools over your sopping pussy.

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[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP: Travel Buddy

"I already told you I'm not going to another country! I'm going to New Mexico!" The shout echoes with frustration across the airport. Dick looks up from his phone to where a man is arguing with a woman behind a counter. She has a pinched grimace on her face, an expression only those who have worked in customer service are familiar with.

It's the look of someone who dances on the line of "I don't need to up with this bullshit. I don't need this job" and "Think of your bills, think of your check, stay calm."

There is a long line behind him, where everyone is making faces at the delay.

Dick often preferred to travel with Justice League tech, as nothing beat the speed of instant teleportation, but he needed to have some records of traveling the normal for his civilian identity. It would be suspicious if he was seen worldwide with no signs of how he got there.

It was a necessary evil to have his loveable wanderlust persona that was Dick Grayson-Wayne. He had taken a few aspects of Brucie Wayne but replaced the playboy reputation with a restlessness that couldn't stand being in one place for too long.

Growing up with people constantly pointing out how attractive he was, which would have been fine were it not for the rich old men and women who leered at him through his teen years. He could not stomach being a playboy, allowing those who objectified him to think he enjoyed their attention.

It was easier to be the easily distracted, pretty son who was always away from home instead. It helped that Bruce had plenty of private jets to gift his son for whatever whimsy urge to move hit him. That was why he was in Illinois today.

Dick's jet had needed to stop for some fuel, and like most commercial airlines, they were told that they needed to wait before heading up again. They may have enough money to afford their own planes, but commercial planes have the right of way.

Then a storm was reported at Gotham Airlines, and his pilot told Dick they were grounded until it cleared up. It could be a delay of six hours.

Dick didn't mind, having told his staff to take a break. If it got too bad, he would buy everyone a hotel room to try again tomorrow. His private jet staff seemed stunned by the offer, insisting they could wait to see if it was clear enough to fly in a few hours.

He had decided he wanted to have some crappy airport snacks, as it was part of the experience, and walked around the airport munching on his chocolate donut. He found a little booth selling local coffee, prompting him to find a seat near the welcome counter and scroll through his phone.

He still had three hours to kill, so he considered exploring the area a little. I suggest finding some hotels just in case. There was little in this place. The closest city was Amity Park, but it was only beside the mall and a decent burger joint; there was little to do.

It was one of those small towns that, despite not having many people, was well spread out due to all the open spaces. The people who lived there either raised a family, retired or had bloodlines traced generations back to the town's founding.

"Sir, as I stated before, you need a passport, and you have to pay for an international ticket to go to Mexico," The woman hissed. Some people in line began muttering about how annoying the man was for arguing.

"All I have is my driver's license. I could go home for my passport. That's no issue, but I am not paying for an international ticket to Mexico when I am not going there! I'm staying in the US! New Mexico is a state!" the man shouts, flailing his long black trenchcoat. It makes the black ponytail swing side to side as he leans on the counter. "How do you work in travel and not know that!?"

"What is going on here?" A man demands, stepping beside the gumming woman. Dick can tell he is the manager just by the way his uniform looks different.

"This man is refusing to listen." The counter lady practically spits and is now leaning well over the "I don't need this job" side of the customer service line. Dick finds himself standing up as the manager gets a quick rundown of the problem.

The crowd was getting impatient, even with the two other representatives slowly calling up the next customer. Curious by the outcome, Dick drifts closer, listening to the man explain that he wants to go to New Mexico to study the enormous reports of violent paranormal sightings.

He was apparently visiting all highly haunted states in the US to write a book about the history of the hauntings, but when he was attempting to get his ticket, the woman had been convinced he was leaving the country. Dick watched in real-time as the manager also seemed to think New Mexico was in Mexico because he began to explain the international policy to the fuming man.

They threatened to put him on the no-fly list if he continued causing them trouble. That angered the traveler even more, and he raised his voice and waved his arms as he insisted the location be within the country.

Dick pulls out his phone, typing with one thumb quickly and pulling up a map of the country. He slid right next to the trio, standing at the stranger's left with an easy smile.

"Excuse me, can I have a moment of your time?" He asks

The woman's frustration is now nearing its tipping point, but the manager must have recognized him, for he hastily scrambles to make his expression more pleasant.

"Mr. Grayson-Wayne! Please give me one moment to sort this out. I can help you if that's okay with you. I'm sorry for the delay. Karen, call security to have this man escorted out."

"What!?" Demands the guy as the woman grins.

"With pleasure."

"New Mexico is a US state, " Dick cuts in, displaying his screen. "It's been one since 1912, I'm afraid."

The airline employees are pale as they stare at his phone before the manager pulls it out of his pocket and types rapidly on it. A few seconds later, his already white face goes even whiter.

Dick considers the man next to him, who has a grin starting to bloom on his face. It's a pretty handsome face if he's honest. A dig has him looking away towards his phone.

It's a message from his pilot. It seems the storm was due to Mr. Freeze, and they weren't expecting it to clear for at least four days. He was asking if there was anywhere else Dick wanted to fly to.

"I'm so sorry. I'll bump you up to first class." The manager says to the stranger, who is looking rather smug now. Dick considers his pilot's question before thinking, why not.

He does have an image to uphold, after all.

"Would you like a ride in my private jet? " Dick turns to the man, who blinks at him while cutting off the rambling of the woman and the manger. "I can drop you off wherever you want in New Mexico. Where were you headed?"

"Ugh, I wanted to visit Dawnson Cemetry, " the man stammers. "I-do you really have a private jet?"

"Yeah. Would you like to go with me?"

There is a moment of hesitation before the man grabs his wallet off the counter and nods. "If it's not too much trouble," he responds cautiously.

"It's not. I'm Dick Grayson-Wayne, by the way."

"Danny Fenton."

Dick waves the two employees away, winking at them as they slump in relief that Danny doesn't seem to want to make this into an incident. Likely, he had just been upset they weren't listening.

"Most haunted places in the US, huh?" Dick asks while sending a text to his crew. He gets confirmation that they can head over to the southwest post haste. "Aren't you scared of ghosts?"

Danny gives an odd little smirk. "I haven't been afraid of ghosts since I was fourteen."

Dick stares at his mouth a little too long, swinging his gaze back to his phone when he gets a message from Bruce. His dad had been informed of the flight change and was using the coded message to confirm Dick being the one to change it.

He types out a response, ignoring the fluttering of his heart. If he checks to see what other states are highly haunted as Danny looks around his jet with a fallen jaw, that's only because he has four days to kill.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

other fingers in other holes

words: 1.3k

warnings: 18+ only, dubcon!, smut, fingering, reader x barry, reader x rafes (nameless) friends, spankings, punishments, mentions of p in v sex, anal fingering, mentions of anal sex, established relationship

“you're being a fucking brat.” rafe growls out, not bothering to lower their voice as everyone on the patio turns to look at you.

you know it's true but you still pout and cross your arms, defying him even more.

“if you wanna act like a bitch, im going to treat you like one.” rafe warns. “act up one more time and you'll see what happens.”

you're good for less than five minutes before you do something else to purposely get on rafes nerves, and something snaps inside of him.

he pulls you into his lap, shoving your face down so you land with your stomach across his knees. you instantly know what rafe is planning as your hands come to your skirt and hold the material down, but it's no use.

rafe doesn't care that barry is sitting right next to him. doesn't care that a couple of his friends had joined them, he still pushes the fabric up to reveal your panties.

“rafe, im sorry!” you squeal, but his hand still lands on your ass, making your entire body twitch.

“i told you there would be consequences.” rafe growls out. “now you have to take your punishment.”

he doesn't stop with one spanking, hitting your ass again for all of the peering eyes to see how your plump bum jiggles with his strikes.

another spanking as you clenching your legs tightly together, attempting fruitfully to keep yourself somewhat concealed, only for rafe to rip your thighs apart, lifting one so effortlessly it's like you're a doll.

“look at that, guys.” rafe scoffs. “she's already soaking through her panties.”

“rafe, man…” barry says, and you think for a moment he might defend you. might tell rafe to not embarrass you in front of everyone. “take them off.”

your heart sinks as you press your face into the couch cushion, knowing rafe will listen to what barry asks of him.

rafes hand delivers another swat before tugging your panties down your legs, flinging them onto the floor. you don't even bother trying to keep yourself from being exposed as rafe sits your hips back onto his lap with your legs spread wide.

the second the fresh afternoon air hits your pussy, you can't help the moan you let out.

“shit man, she is soaked.” barry laughs. 

you wait for rafes touch, but you can tell this hand is different as it delivers a rougher spanking, surely leaving a red mark.

your eyes widen when the fingers the delve into your folds are certainly not rafes, not as long and not as slender as the man you're used to.

you instantly realize it's barry, rafe having allowed him to reach over and begin to finger you as he prods a digit against your entrance.

“don't bother being gentler with her, man.” rafe says. “she's used to getting fucked hard, huh baby?”

you let out a little whine and hope it suffices as a good enough answer for rafe.

“oh, and don't look so jealous.” rafe says to his two friends whose names you've forgotten at this point, sole focus on barrys finger slowly sinking further into your cunt. “you'll get a turn fingering her too.”

rafe then bends over your body, making sure you're listening as he gathers your hair into a ponytail and tugs your head up. “and you're not to cum, understood?”

you nod, swallowing thickly as barrys finger starts to push in and out of you as you struggle to find your voice. “yes.”

“good girl.” rafe drops your hair and your face presses back into the couch, attempting to hide your moans somewhat in the cushion as barry picks up the pace, listening to rafe and not bothering to build you up or take anything too gentle.

it's not long before a second finger is pushed into your entrance, barry seeing how quickly you adjust as your walls give way, pussy sucking his fingers deeper in every time.

“remember this is your punishment.” rafe says, slapping your ass harshly, the sudden stinging pain in sharp contrast to barry fingering you.

you can hear rafe, then soon after his buddies, let out a chuckle at the way your pussy obviously reacts, loving the mix of pain and pleasure as your pussy grip around barrys fingers so tightly he almost struggles to move them.

“god man, you get to fuck this cunt every day?” one of rafes friends pipes up.

“nah, not her cunt. she's not good enough for that every day.” rafe separates your cheeks and you know exactly what he's going to say. “i fuck her other hole when she's being a brat no matter how much she screams and cries.”

you can tell some sort of silent exchange is going on with glances and nods, and then a finger is touching your other entrance.

“rafe!” you squeal, even though both his hands are still holding you apart and the finger certainly isn't his.

“shut up.” rafe growls. “you were asking for this by being a little beat. take it.”

thankfully whoever is touching you dips down to gather some of your wetness on his finger before attempting to push in. 

rafe smirks as he's able to sink inside, pumping slowly but rafe doesn't care enough to correct him as his friend surely imagines its his cock instead, probably using this mental image to jerk off later.

“i- rafe.” you cry out, your hand moving to tap his thigh before squeezing it as your cunt flutters, the intrusion of both holes being filled causing your high to quickly build.

“hold it in, slut.” rafe says. “besides, my other friend here hasn't gotten to touch you yet.”

barry clearly isn't giving up your pussy any time soon, so you hear the groan of disappointment as the finger leaves your ass only to be quickly replaced by one that is clearly less experienced.

you don't even bother to let out a cry in complaint, kind of enjoying the erratic thrusting compared to barrys even yet hard and deep strokes.

your hand grips onto rafes jeans, especially as barry pulls out only to dip briefly down to your clit and then back inside.

“making it hard for her.” barry says, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“good.” rafe gives your ass a spanking, letting your cheeks go to continue swatting against your ass. “this is a punishment.”

rafe leans over you again. “have you learned your lesson or are you still being a brat?”

you tilt your head to the side, pressing it into the wet patch you soaked with your drool.

“ill be good.” you tell rafe. “promise.”

“you better be.” rafe leans in to give you a sloppy kiss, loving the way you can't hold back your moans even as his lips are against yours.

rafe sits up quickly, suddenly feeling possessive as he shoves his friends away. “fuck off.”

rafe fingers enter your pussy, pumping in such familiarity that you don't even need him to touch your clit before you cry out, high breeching suddenly from having your boyfriend being the one filling your cunt.

your entire body shakes as juices drip onto rafes lap, the squelching sound filling the room along with your moans as he fingers you through your orgasm.

“you weren't supposed to cum.” rafe says, your eyes widening when you realize he never gave you verbal permission, your high built so suddenly just from feeling him that you didn't even think about it.

“guess ill just have to take you upstairs and make sure you cum many, many times.” rafe stands up, his arms easily slotting under yours, not bothering to grab your underwear still laying on the floor.

“make sure you thank barry for fingering you so nicely.” rafe says, holding you against his chest.

“thanks, bear.” you whisper, managing to glance down and see how hard barry is in his shorts before rafe whisks you up to his bedroom.

[gay-dorito-dust]

It was hard not to compare Mr crawling to that of a loyal puppy dog.

He perks up at you and is visibly happy to the point you could clearly imagine his nonexistent tail wagging vigorously behind him.

He would always wait for you come back and act as though he hasn’t seen you in ages, even though it was more like five minutes to the corner shop for a few bits and bobs; However you couldn’t help but smile every time you saw him waiting for you eagerly.

You didn’t feel as though you deserve a soul as sweet as him, but you kept it to yourself as you let him cling to you and try to take a peak as to what it was that you brought home.

Other than his uncanny likeness to a cute puppy there was another thing about mr crawling there intrigued you. Him standing. It’s extremely rare that mr crawling stood on his own two feet. You saw it happen once and that was about it and all you remember from the moment was how tall he actually was, practically too tall to walk through a doorway without potentially hitting his head because he was that tall.

Mr crawling was tall but his long hair seemed to almost touch the floor in comparison to how they drag across the floor when he’s on his hands and knees. Was it surprising? Yeah a little seeing as it wasn’t something you were use to seeing so suddenly.

However you feared that being on his knees all the time was a pain on not only his knees but his body in general, and yet he didn’t seem to exhibit any sort of pain or discomfort. You soon find that he preferred to stay on his hands and knees for reasons he wouldn’t quite disclose to you. So when you’re both lying in bed you would make sure to massage his knees and hands, even going so far as to give them kisses to show your appreciation for mr crawling, making him purr and chirp happily as he melted under your touch.

You mess with his hair often after giving it a deep, cleansing wash, throwing it into different hairstyles but you didn’t dare bring a pair of scissors close to his hair as you actually liked his long hair as did mr crawling himself.

Ponytail

Man bun

Half up half down

Anything that you could think of, they looked amazing on him which often lead to you showering him in kisses and praises of how cute and handsome he was, but often time you adored his hair hanging down more often then not as it was something mr crawling was more comfortable with and who were you to disagree with him.

[theonottsbxtch]

THE OTHER GUY PT.3 | FC43

an: let's go part three! i'm really loving this series, i'm trying to push for 4/5 parts? lmk if there is anything you guys want to see in particular! love you guys <3

part one | part two

ynpiastri

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris and 31,475 others

no excuses

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The low hum of the treadmill and the rhythmic clang of weights filled the resort’s gym, but Franco wasn’t paying attention to any of it. His focus was locked on the woman in the corner, working through her routine with laser-like focus.

She didn’t notice him, which was for the best—he wasn’t ready to deal with her sharp tongue or the way she looked at him like he was the villain in her story. But right now, she was different. She didn’t have her guard up, didn’t look like she was ready to tear him apart with another sarcastic comment. She looked… gorgeous.

It wasn’t just the way her ponytail swung as she moved, or the way her tank top clung to her in all the right places. There was something else, something about the determination in her eyes, the way she focused on each rep like the rest of the world didn’t exist. She wasn’t just beautiful—she was fierce. Strong. And, damn, if that didn’t make her even more attractive.

He ran a hand through his hair, leaning against the doorframe, trying to play it cool. Franco knew he shouldn’t be watching her like this, but it was hard to look away. Every time he saw her, something pulled him in, and it was getting harder and harder to pretend it was just because she hated him.

He’d been thinking about her way too much lately. The way she challenged him, never letting him get too close, always keeping him on the edge. And yeah, maybe that was part of the thrill. But now, as he stood there, watching her with sweat glistening on her skin, it wasn’t just about the challenge anymore.

He wanted to ask her out.

The thought hit him like a punch to the gut, and he cursed under his breath. What the hell was he thinking? She couldn’t stand him. She’d made that clear from the start, and asking her out would probably end in her laughing in his face or worse—publicly roasting him on her Instagram for the world to see.

But still… he couldn’t shake the thought. The way she made his heart race, how every word from her lips felt like a dare. He wanted to take that risk, to see if maybe—just maybe—there was something more behind her walls. Something she wasn’t ready to admit.

“Mate, what are you staring at?”

The voice of his friend, Diego, snapped him out of his thoughts. He hadn’t even noticed Diego walking up beside him, his water bottle in hand and a raised eyebrow on his face.

“Nothing,” he muttered, but it was too late. Diego followed his gaze, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Right. Nothing. That’s why you’ve been standing here for a full five minutes staring at her like a lost puppy.”

“Callarse la boca,” (shut up) he grumbled, crossing his arms. “It’s not like that.”

“Sure it’s not.” Diego’s grin widened as he leaned in, lowering his voice. “So, when are you going to ask her out?”

He shot his friend a look. “You’re joking, right? You know how she feels about me. She’d chew me up and spit me out before I even got the words out.”

“Maybe,” Diego admitted, shrugging. “But maybe she wouldn’t. Look, I’m just saying, you’ve been eyeing her for days, and it’s not just because she’s Logan’s best friend and Oscar’s sister. You’re into her.”

“I’m not—”

“Mate, you are.” Diego cut him off, raising his hand. “And here’s the thing: girls like her, the ones that give you a hard time? Half the time, it’s because they’re scared of how much they like you. You know the saying, ‘keep your enemies close’ and all that.”

He shook his head, but deep down, he couldn’t deny Diego’s words were getting to him. Maybe that’s why she was always so sharp with him—because she was scared. Or maybe he was just kidding himself.

“Look, you’ll never know unless you try,” Diego continued, nudging him with his elbow. “What’s the worst that could happen? She shuts you down? You’ve survived worse, need I remind you of your ex?.”

He thought about it for a long moment, his eyes drifting back to her as she moved through her final set. Diego was right—he’d survived worse, and if she shot him down, at least he’d know he tried. And if, somehow, she didn’t… Well, that was a risk worth taking.

“Fine,” Franco said finally, running a hand over his face. “I’ll do it. I’ll ask her out.”

Diego grinned, clapping him on the back. “That’s the spirit! Just be cool, alright? Don’t be the cocky bastard you usually are. You’ve got this.”

He wasn’t so sure about that, but as he took a deep breath and headed toward her, the pounding in his chest wasn’t just from nerves. It was excitement. He was ready for the risk.

francolapinto

liked by williamsracing, carlossainz55, ynpiastri and 984,237 others

keep pushing during the break

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You wiped the sweat from your brow, breathing hard as you finished your last set. The gym was quiet this time of night, just the way you liked it. Fewer people meant fewer distractions—fewer chances of running into Franco.

You shook her head, scolding yourself for even thinking about him. Why was he constantly on your mind? Maybe it was because he seemed to pop up everywhere. The pool, the restaurant, and now—you caught a glimpse of movement in the mirror—the gym.

Your eyes flicked to the reflection. There he was, leaning against the doorway, watching you. You could feel his gaze, the same infuriating, intense look he always gave you, like he was daring you to react. It was infuriating how much he got under your skin, how he was always there, always pushing.

You turned your back to the mirror, trying to pretend you hadn’t seen him, but the knot in your stomach wouldn’t loosen. It wasn’t nerves, not really. It was more complicated than that—a mix of irritation, confusion, and something you refused to name. You weren't about to let him know he’d gotten to you, not when he was probably waiting for you to snap, just so he could make some smug comment.

But he didn’t leave.

You could feel him still there, watching, and it drove you crazy. You could handle the public stuff—the jabs on social media, the press interviews where he dropped some flirty comment about you, like he was trying to bait you. But this… this was different. He wasn’t playing to an audience here. This was just him, watching you like you were the only person in the room.

Your heart pounded, and you hated it. Hated that he had this effect on you.

You took a deep breath, your fingers tightening around the dumbbell in your hand. Maybe if you just ignored him, he’d leave. But then, the unmistakable sound of footsteps moving closer made your grip tighten even more. He wasn’t leaving. Of course he wasn’t.

"Hey," his voice cut through the air, smooth and casual, like he hadn’t been staring at you for who knew how long.

You straightened up, wiping your palms on your leggings before turning around, schooling your face into a mask of indifference. You weren't going to let him see any weakness.

“What do you want?” you asked, your tone sharper than youintended.

He hesitated for a second, almost like he wasn’t sure what to say. That was a first. Usually, he had some cocky remarks locked and loaded. But tonight, there was something different in his eyes. A vulnerability that threw you off guard.

“I was just… wondering if you wanted to grab a drink or something,” he said, the confidence in his voice wavering just enough for you to notice.

A drink?

You stared at him, completely blindsided. Out of all the things he could have said, that was the last thing you’d expected. Was he seriously asking you out? After all the snark, all the public back-and-forth?

You should say no. You should laugh in his face, tell him to take his ego and leave you alone. It would be the easiest thing in the world to turn him down.

But the words didn’t come.

Instead, you found herself staring at him, taking in the way his usually cocky demeanour had softened. He wasn’t smirking, wasn’t playing some game to get a rise out of you. He was just… asking. And there was something disarming about that.

Your heartbeat quickened, and you hated that, too.

“You’re joking, right?” you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. “No joke. Just thought maybe… we could talk. Outside of all this.”

You could tell he was waiting for the rejection. You could practically feel the tension rolling off him as he braced himself for your inevitable shutdown. But for the first time since you’d met him, you didn’t feel like fighting. She felt… curious.

Why now? Why you?

You crossed your arms, more to steady yourself than anything. “You know I can’t stand you, right?”

His lips twitched in what almost looked like a smile. “Yeah. I’m well aware.”

“And yet you think I’d want to get a drink with you?”

He shrugged, his eyes still holding yours, like he was trying to figure you out. “What can I say? I’m an optimist.”

You wanted to roll her eyes, wanted to laugh in his face, but instead, you found herself biting your lip, considering it. And that was the most frustrating part. Because as much as you hated him, you couldn’t deny there was something between them. Something you couldn’t explain, but it had been simmering beneath the surface from the moment you two had met.

You should say no. You should walk away, like you always did.

But instead, you found herself meeting his gaze head-on, searching his face for any sign of the arrogant playboy you’d convinced yourself he was. But all you saw was sincerity. And that was what made you hesitate.

“Fine,” you said, crossing your arms tighter. “But one wrong word, I’m gone.”

His smile was instant, warm, and more genuine than you’d ever seen. “Deal.”

ynpiastri

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, landonorris and 31,437 others

alllllcoooolllllhol es muy bueno

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The bar is dimly lit, tucked away in a quiet corner of the resort. Normally, you’d appreciate the calm atmosphere, but tonight, you can’t shake the nervous energy running through you. You don’t know why you agreed to this—sitting across from him, sipping drinks as if you aren’t the same person who publicly can’t stand him.

Franco leaned back in his chair, watching you with that same relaxed expression that always makes your pulse quicken, though you’d never admit it. “So, you’re telling me you’ve never been surfing?” His voice is casual, like this is the most normal conversation in the world.

You shrug, swirling your drink in your hand, trying to act unaffected. “We’re a racing family.”

He grins, eyes never leaving yours. “I’ll have to take you sometime. I bet you’d be a natural.”

That teasing tone, the cocky smile—it should annoy you. It does annoy you. But there’s something different tonight. He’s not playing for an audience, not trying to rile you up like usual. It feels… real. And that’s what unnerves you the most.

“You think I’d take surfing lessons from you? You think I’d voluntarily hang out with you again?” you quip, raising an eyebrow, trying to regain some control over the situation.

“Absolutely. And you’d love every minute of it.”

You roll your eyes, but even as you do, you feel a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. When did this become easy? When did you start enjoying his company?

You take a long sip of your drink, trying to steady yourself. You shouldn’t feel this way. You’re supposed to dislike him. He’s supposed to be the cocky new driver who replaced Logan, the guy you roast on social media. So why is your heart racing?

“Are you okay?” His voice cuts through your thoughts, softer now.

You blink, realising you’ve been staring at the glass in your hand. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you mutter, setting it down.

But he’s still looking at you, his eyes searching yours like he’s trying to read your mind. And for the first time, you don’t know if you can hide behind your usual sarcasm. He’s seeing through your defences, and that terrifies you.

“Listen,” he says, his voice low, almost gentle, “if this is weird for you, you can leave. No pressure.”

Your heart skips at the way he says your name, like it means something more than just another person in his world. Vulnerability flashes in his eyes, and you hate that it makes you feel something, something you’ve been trying to ignore.

You’re about to make a snappy comeback, to brush it off like always, but instead, you just sit there, staring at him. The space between you feels too small, the air thick with an unspoken tension.

Then a thought came to the front of your mind, was he going to kiss you?

The thought sends a jolt through your system. You should pull back, say something snarky, shut this down before it goes any further. But you don’t move. And neither does he.

The tension is electric now, crackling between you like a live wire. He leans in, just slightly, enough for you to feel the heat of his presence, and you realise—so do you. You’re leaning in, too. Your heart is racing, your breath shallow. You can feel the moment hanging there, fragile, on the edge of something you’re not sure you’re ready for. You’re ready to blame the alcohol but you hadn’t even finished your first drink.

And then, just as the space between you is about to disappear, a voice shatters the moment like a glass breaking.

“Oh my god Franco! Can I get a selfie with you?”

The interruption hits you like a bucket of cold water. You jerk back, blinking as you realise there’s someone standing beside the table—a girl, wide-eyed and holding up her phone, looking at him like he’s hung the stars and the moon.

He glances at her, clearly surprised, but quickly recovers with that easy charm of his. For a second, the connection between you snaps, and the intensity of the moment is gone.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he says, smiling at the fan. “Just give me a second.”

You lean back in your seat, trying to get a grip on yourself. Your heart is still racing, and you feel the ghost of what almost happened hanging in the air. You hadn’t realised how close you’d come to crossing that line until the moment was interrupted. And now that it’s gone, you don’t know how to feel. Relieved? Maybe. But there’s a part of you��a part you hate to admit—that’s disappointing.

He turns back to you, his face apologetic, as if he knows exactly what you’re feeling.

“I’ll be right back,” he says softly, standing up to take the photo.

You watch as he poses with the fan, your heart still thudding in your chest. The moment between you lingers in the air, but now, with the interruption, it’s slipping away. And you’re not sure if you want it back or if you’re relieved it’s gone.

twitter

imessage between logan and yn

the end.

taglist: @iimplicitt @isaadore @iamred-iamyellow @justheretoreadthxxs @obxstiles @how-what-why-huh @raizelchrysanderoctavius @sainzzreputaticn

comment if you want to be added to the tag lit xx

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Tis The Damn Season

♥ masterlist | request rules | 12 days of ficmas

♥ pairing: lando norris x fem!driver!reader

♥ synopsis: lando’s certainly feeling the pressure of gift giving this holiday season. he wanted to give you something to show you he truly cares and turns to the grid for help.

♥ wc: 1.1k - as always none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing and fluffy fluff fluff !!!

♥ a/n: first day of ficmas with some platonic norstappen <3

Grill the Grid Secret Santa was a video all the fans looked forward to. It was a cute tradition—but everyone always ended up with a bunch of random crap they didn’t know what to do with. But after pulling your name this year, Lando had to make sure the gift was perfect

“I don’t see why you’re taking this so seriously,” Max laughed. “Charles cut out pictures of his own face for me a few years ago.”

“How romantic,” Lando replied, drawing an eye roll from Max. “I just don’t know what to get her.”

Max took a swig of beer, “And you think I do?”

Lando sighed, “I don’t know… I just—I don’t want to get her some random shit object that she’s gonna throw away. I want it to be important.”

“And when I asked you if you were into this girl you said no,” Max smirked.

“Shut up,” Lando said with a playful eye roll.

-

Lando

what the fuck do i actually get y/n for secret santa

Charles

You’re not supposed to tell us who you got :(

Carlos

Get her a jumper

Lando

I’m not getting her a lame ass jumper

Pierre

…i got carlos a jumper one year

Lando

I’m aware

-

Lando sighed and clicked off his phone, the only light source in his room. He switched on his bedside lamp and wandered around his bedroom looking for ideas.

He stepped towards a shelf, a few helmets and tchotchkes on display along with a framed picture of the two of you from your karting days. Sitting beside it was a few broken shards of china.

-2023 Hungarian Grand Prix-

Despite the cheering in the grand stands, you could hear the cracking of your first trophy as clear as day. The beautiful hand painted porcelain hit the ground hard, breaking in three different places after Lando popped the champagne.

It wasn't his fault of course. Accidents happen all the time. It was still a shame though. The first woman to win an F1 Grand Prix and her trophy breaks?

"This is misogyny, actually," your PR manager Morgan said, eliciting a laugh from you and a few drivers.

"I'm so sorry Y/n, I had no idea that would happen," Lando apologized profusely, a look of sincerity in his eyes.

"No, no, don't be sorry. It's okay," you promised.

"Congratulations, seriously. You had an amazing drive," Max praised you while wiping the sweat off the back of his neck.

You adjusted your cap, pulling your ponytail through the space between the clasp and fabric.

"'Thank you," you say breathlessly, gulping down a cold bottle of water.

"Alright, post race interviews for everyone and I'll find out about your new trophy Y/n," Morgan said, setting the broken pieces of porcelain on a table.

Your head spun with ideas what was going to happen to the broken ceramic. Whatever you had in mind never came close to what actually did happen with it.

Lando thought, "Maybe I could try finding the rest of the pieces and rebuild it?"

Absolutely not. Give her own fucking trophy to her as a gift? How lame.

He played with the jewelry on his veiny hands anxiously, caring way too much about the impression his future gift would give you.

Within seconds of this he was struck with the most perfect idea. He tucked the pieces of your trophy into his pocket and quickly made it out the front door, ready to begin a perfect Secret Santa.

-

“Alright,” an interviewer handed you a small box that was wrapped with colorful paper and a bow. “We need you to guess who this is from.”

You shook it carefully, noticing some rounded ridges that stuck out. You gently slipped the ribbon off with a single pull, used the tip of your nail to slice through some clear tape, and unwrapped the gift.

From the moment you pulled it out, everyone knew it was a ring box. The black velvet encapsulating it said everything.

“Wow am I getting proposed to on grill the grid?” you joked, stirring a laugh from the filming crew.

You opened the case to reveal a ring front and center. It wasn’t just any kind of ring though. There was gold rimming around the band and the purple-ish pink design that stood out perfectly on the white porcelain.

Along with that was a folded up picture of you and Lando. The one from karting. The same one he had in his bedroom.

Your heart completely melted, remembering the days where you two were so close.

“Well, this is clearly from Lando,” you smiled with a soft laugh, putting a hand over your heart.

“May I see the ring?” the woman interviewing you asked.

“Mhm,” you nodded, handing her over the glossy object.

She squinted to get a good look at the design.

“This looks like the hungary trophies you know,” she said, looking back up to you.

“It does,” a crew member agreed.

You held your hand out for the small object back and inspected it yourself. It couldn't possibly be...?

It was.

You placed the folded picture back into the box and kept the ring in your palm.

“Hang on,” you pulled out your phone and called Lando as the cameras kept rolling.

“Can you come over here? We’re by Ferrari hospitality.”

Within minutes Lando made his way to you alongside Max.

“Is this from my trophy in Hungary?” you held up the ring with two fingers.

“Yeah,” Lando nodded.

“Did you fucking steal my trophy?” you laughed.

“Only like a few pieces,” he held his hands up in surrender with a playful smile. “There were some on the floor that I stashed in my pocket to figure out what to do with later. Maybe ask an FIA person but we all know I didn't get around to that. What do you know? They were in my pockets at the end of the day and i just kept them on a shelf.”

“Well good thing you did,” you looked at the ring and slipped it on your finger. You walked over to him slowly and threw your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a tight hug.

“It was one of the most, if not the most important moment in F1 history,” he mumbled against your shoulder. “I want you to always have a piece of that podium with you.”

You pulled away and wiped a tear from your eye with a laugh. With the memory of that day, the ring, and the picture of you and Lando as kids, all the emotions were starting to flood back.

“Fuck you for making me cry,” you laughed, using the sleeve on your sweater to wipe your face. You softly kissed his cheek and squeezed Lando’s hand before they cut the clip.

You’ll never live down that video. It’s mentioned probably a thousand times a day by fans alone shipping the two of you. But eventually, that first ring Lando ever gave you will sit on your finger right next to the wedding band he proposed to you with.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

taglist; @sainzzreputaticn @theseerbetweenus @yawn-zi

[burrowdarling]

Rough Sex with Joe (18+)

Summary: Some headcanons about rough sex with Joe

Pairings: Joe Burrow x gf!reader

Warnings: oral (male and female receiving), praise, descriptions of sex, MDNI

Note: Hi! Here's some headcanons based on this anon request. If you're interested I can always incorporate this into an actual fic with some kind of plot. Otherwise, enjoy some smutty brain rot. Love you all!

Word Count: 730

Check out my Masterlist here!

Rough sex with Joe would include:

It could start in a few different ways, whether you pushed his buttons for too long or he’s frustrated and wants to relieve some stress

You’d be a willing candidate, either way, loving how Joe gets when he’s rough

This man would love to be in charge 

Joe would demand you strip for him, wanting to have you laid out ready for him

Joe would take his time, knowing you worked him up for this exact reason

He’d leave secret marks on your body that only he could see, like covering your breasts in hickies

Joe would tease you, taking his time to really wind you up before he’d let you have it

You would absolutely hate it in the moment, feeling impatient and desperate for release (but secretly you love it)

Joe would make sure you finish first, his goal is always to please you

Hit might be once, twice, three times, whatever he thinks you can handle in the moment

He loves it when you're vocal, even if he has to remind you all of the time how much he loves it when you don't hold anything back

It just boosts his already big ego of how good he is in bed, your labored breath and moans an indicator of his skill 

Your hands would be buried in his hair, seeking any time of grounding for the pleasure he’s giving you

The tugging on his hair only causing him to groan and egg him on more

Joe loves eating you out, he could be down there for so long you’d have to pull him back to reality

Joe would get himself even more worked up watching you cum over and over again, desperately needing his own relief

He’d want your mouth on his cock first before he takes you how he wants you

“Get on your knees for me, mouth open”

You’d take him as well as you could, fisting what you couldn’t fit in your mouth at the same rhythm and pace

He would be so vocal through it, not softening his moans at all and letting you hear him

He’d also be sure to give you praise telling you how good you feel

“Look how well you take me” or “god I love your pretty lips on my cock”

Your hair would be in a makeshift ponytail while he fucks your mouth, not being able to hold back anymore

One of his favorite views is you on your knees with his cock in your mouth, you letting him use you for his own pleasure

When it got down to it, he’d start with missionary so he could see your face and watch how good he’s making you feel

Full. Eye. Contact.

Even when you try to close your eyes from the pleasure, he’s pulling you back in

“Eyes on me sweetheart, want you to look at me when I make you cum”

If you were being especially bratty, he’d wrap his free hand around your throat to make sure you know who’s in charge 

Joe would love the feeling of your nails down his back as he fucks you hard, rocking stripes on and off the field

You’d be a mess underneath him between his words and his thrusts, slow but hard making sure you take him all

If he was feeling up to it, he’d flip you around to fuck you from behind

He’d have your hands behind your back while he fucked you, letting him have full control 

Joe would take his free hand down to your clit, making that knot snap and pleasure taking over

Joe would follow soon after, succumbing to the feeling of how you clench around him from your own release

By the end of it, he’d be so sweet with the aftercare, making sure he didn’t mark you up too much or hurt you in any way

Joe would clean you both up, being sure to dress you in some panties and one of his shirts before cuddling up

Definitely would have some random pillow talk before drifting off to sleep in his arms

Thank you so much for reading, please send in any requests or comments. I hope you enjoyed!

[darkmatilda]

Heyhey, so I got this idea stuck in my head today, since I got such a bad hangover. I know tmi, but I was best friends with my toilet. The only thing helping me get through this mess was imagining Spencer infodumping facts and taking care of me…like holding my hair, making tea and cuddles.

So that’s basically my request. Basically reader drank too much on girls night and it’s the next day filled with regret and misery.

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬' 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐝 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the fun at your friend's bachelorette party ends by the toilet with a headache, but when you have such a wonderful boyfriend, even the worst hangover doesn't scare you.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x femreader, established relationship, fluff, hungover, alcohol consumption, spancer takes care of you. 𝐚/𝐧: this is one of the requests i got from you lately, it's really different from my other fics (i don't really write so fluffy and comfy things...) but i just hope you'll like it and that you feel better now :>

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 1.4

“So? Did you have fun with the girls?”

You answered the question, laced with irony, with a faint groan, resting your cheek on the cold toilet seat. You didn’t even have the strength to turn toward your boyfriend, Spencer, who was likely leaning against the bathroom doorway with a look that screamed a classic I told you so.

Because he had told you. Before you left, after he’d finished marveling at how stunning you looked in the dress you’d chosen for the evening, he’d turned serious for a moment. He’d reminded you to be careful, stick close to the girls, watch your drink, and not overdo it with the alcohol. You’d joked that he sounded like your parent, but deep down, you knew it came from how much he cared about you. You never wanted to make him worry. That’s why you approached alcohol that evening with extreme caution, sipping one drink slowly over the course of half the night.

That was until Penelope raised her glass with a jubilant cheer—To our wonderful bride-to-be!—while pulling JJ into a tight embrace.

Prentiss joined the toast, and then you did too. Together, you made your way to the dance floor, and the rest of the night became a blur of shifting club lights, the thrum of music vibrating through every cell of your body, and laughter—so much laughter, endless laughter.

And now, thanks to that laughter—and your wildly misplaced confidence in your alcohol tolerance—you were spending the morning getting intimately acquainted with the toilet, swearing to never touch tequila again, and occasionally cursing Penelope’s enthusiasm.

“I had an absolutely splendid time,” you scoffed, and with that gesture, a sharp pain spread through your head. You sighed again, squeezing your eyes shut tightly. “Doesn’t it show?”

Then, another wave of nausea hit, forcing you to bury your head in the toilet.

The sound of vomiting drowned out the noise of him approaching, and you were startled to feel him crouching beside you, pulling your hair away from your neck and face, protecting it from getting dirty.

“Oh, sweetheart, the next few hours are going to be brutal for you,” he remarked, shaking his head and continuing to toy with your hair, gathering it into a makeshift ponytail with his hands instead of a hair tie.

“I’ve got one,” you mumbled weakly, raising your wrist to show the hair tie wrapped around it.

“No need, I’ve got it,” he replied.

“You don’t have to, it’s disgusting,” you said, suddenly embarrassed that he’d found you in such a state.

“Homo sum, humani nihil a me alienum puto,” he quoted, placing one hand gently on your back and stroking it soothingly. You focused on that fluid motion, closing your eyes again and hoping this was the last wave of nausea. “Besides, have you already forgotten I’m a criminal profiler? I see things a hundred thousand times worse than this over breakfast.”

You couldn’t help yourself and let out a short laugh.

“I think that’s it,” you said, gathering your strength to push yourself up onto your knees and finally move away from the toilet. “I hope that’s it.”

“Take it slow,” he advised, quickly standing up first to help you get up. “Alright? Do you feel at least one-tenth of a single percent better?”

“No, baby. I asked my stomach, and it said we actually feel about two-tenths of…something better.”

“Your sarcasm is back, so I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Guess what else came back?” you asked, causing him to nod questioningly. “I don’t know either. I’m too exhausted to even come up with a sensible joke. I just want to lie down and sleep… Oh, or take a bath… Or lie down in the bath…”

“You know, that’s dangerous? Bathtub drownings are more common than you might think. From ten to fifteen percent of all drownings in the United States.”

“I’m ready to take that risk.”

“Well, in that case, someone will have to keep an eye on you.”

As soon as you found yourself almost completely submerged in the water, you sighed in relief. Every muscle in your body ached from the fun at the bachelorette party, especially your calves, exhausted from walking all night in heels. The warmth was soothing. Spencer, though he offered to stay with you, had disappeared for a moment outside the bathroom. With every flutter of your eyelids, you felt a sensation like a rollercoaster ride, spinning at a dizzying speed around its own axis. Each such ride resulted in a wave of nausea, so you refrained from falling asleep and waited for your boyfriend to return.

After a minute or two, he appeared in the doorway with a glass of water.

“You need to drink this,” he said, handing you the cold glass. “Alcohol causes dehydration, which is the main cause of your headache and fatigue. Plus, it flushes out all the toxins. It’s the best thing you can do for a hangover.”

He placed a tiny stool, which was in your bathroom, next to the bathtub and sat down on it. With a foamy hand, you took the glass from him.

“You know what else is good for a hangover?” you asked. “Cold beer.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Well, it was worth a try.” 

For a moment, you both sat in silence, his hand absentmindedly grazing the water, and his chin resting on the edge of the bathtub.

“And now, seriously, how was the bachelorette party? Did you have fun? Did JJ like it?”

“She was surprised we even planned something for her. Though Penelope almost spilled the beans at least twenty times. I had an amazing time, especially when one guy tried to hit on me by saying he worked for the FBI.”

Spencer’s eyebrows shot up in amusement.

“Did he work there?”

“Oh, come on. Anyone who brags about working for the FBI at a club probably doesn’t. “And I already have one handsome agent at home, why would I need another?” you asked, causing him to smile. At the sight, you couldn’t help yourself and wrapped your foam-covered arm around his neck, soaking half of his sweater, just to plant a strong kiss on his cheek. “Not just handsome, but the sweetest and most caring one in the world. What would I do without you?”

He didn’t seem to mind the wet clothes at all, tilting his head to the side and narrowing his eyes with contentment at your words.

“Probably drowned in the bathtub.”

“And also the king of comedy. Okay, the water is already cold, and my fingers are all wrinkled. Could you pass me a towel?” you asked. “And since you’re being so kind, maybe also, I don’t know, lie down with me in bed? Cuddling is good for a hangover too. I read an article about it recently.”

“Really?” he pretended to be surprised, theatrically scratching his chin. He sighed. “Well, if the article says so, I guess we have to do it.”

Okay, maybe your head didn’t stop hurting instantly and the hangover didn’t vanish with a flick of a magic wand, but you felt incomparably better once you were in his arms, resting your head on his warm chest.

“I don’t feel sleepy. Would you like to tell me something?” you asked, lifting your gaze slightly to look at his face.

He seemed almost surprised by the request, but quickly recovered and nodded eagerly.

“Of course. If that’s what you need. What would you like to hear about?”

You shrugged, adjusting your position.

“It could be anything. I just love the sound of your voice.”

You could feel his chest rise in a sigh.

“Alright,” he agreed, his whisper pleasantly tickling the top of your head. “How about...”

You weren’t lying when you said you loved his voice. Though sometimes you apologized for him talking too much, you always encouraged him to do so. You listened to every story, every tidbit, with the same pleasure. Especially when he lowered his tone in such a tender way that it seemed to wrap the air around you both.

And even though you hadn’t felt sleepy from the start, you didn’t even catch the moment when Morpheus invited you to meet him.

taglist: @she-wont-miss @nightfullofparadox @mggslover @kakamixoxo @nyeddleblog @dylanobrienswife0420

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[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Housewife!reader

From the request HERE

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Such a good little wife you are to your military husband, ready to welcome him back home after he returns from deployment. This time you've even prepared a meal of all his favorites, but when Simon gets back early than expected and catches you flitting about the kitchen in nothing but his t-shirt, it isn't food that he wants.

Word Count: 6.4 k

Warnings:

Simon has gotten in earlier than either of you expected, but instead of letting you know he doesn’t call, doesn’t text. There are other thoughts on his mind that cloud his judgment and the last thing he thinks about is wasting time focusing on messing with his phone when showing up back home is infinitely better. He’s excited to be back, chomping at the bit to get back his girl as he’s been missing you something terrible. Now that he’s back on home turf, that longing to see you again is only getting worse by the second.  

You had told him your plan for today: you wanted to make his homecoming right by cooking him a nice meal for the two of you as a celebration since he’s been gone for quite a while this round. The gesture is sweet and Simon is getting hungry… the only problem is that it isn’t for food.

He reiterates to himself on the drive back about the promise that he made to you that he would be on his best behavior today. All this trouble you are going to, he wants to be sure to show his appreciation by enjoying the hard work you’ve put in to prepare a dinner of all his favorite things and he plans to keep it by not letting his yearnings get out of hand…at least that is what he hopes.

By the time he pulls up to the house he is over two hours early from when he was meant to land and his pulse is racing as he parks on the driveway. Just a short distance more and he’s back in the company he’s been craving like crazy.

His key clicks in the lock and as he opens the door to his house he is hit by the sights and sounds of familiarity that instantly put him at ease. There are reminders of you everywhere, little touches that make this a place of comfort he looks forward to coming back to after being away. It is the sound of music echoing from the kitchen that urges him to continue forward after he shuts the door quietly, hoping to catch you by surprise. He sets his gear down by the door and creeps silently through the house, the metallic clangs of pots and utensils underneath the music now becoming more prominent as he reaches the source. 

And there you are.

The pupils of those caramel brown eyes dilate as you come into view; it has been too long since the object of his desire was standing right in front of him and fuck, do you look good. He watches you transfixed on the grace of your movements, unwavering gaze following the motions of your body as you go about the kitchen popping from the stove to the countertop singing along with the song playing over the bluetooth speakers. 

This is it, this is his little piece of heaven on earth, his oasis safe from the chaos that is his daily life, his sunshine that pierces through the darkness that clouds his thoughts, and she’s wearing his t-shirt. And only his t-shirt with your panties.

How the hell can you make something so simple look like perfection? He could very well be biased because he only has ever had eyes for you, but fuck your beauty could pull off anything. 

This right here is what keeps him going, knowing that this is what he will come home to.

He pulls his phone from out of his pocket and promptly snaps a picture, wanting to capture this innocent moment of carefree beauty that you exude now that you are alone in your own little world: humming happily to yourself, flitting about the kitchen, his baggy shirt randomly clinging to different curves as you move, your hair tied back into a low ponytail. 

In that moment, looking like you do, he wants you so bad it hurts. Your figure is only a few feet away from his grasp and yet his body is aching in pain still being this far. He has to be wrapped around you and it has to be right now. Moving with haste he pulls off his mask and gloves and discards them on the ground, removing any sign of Ghost so that he cannot taint his sweet thing with the unsavory dealings of his alter ego. He can’t wait, those lips and hands have to be on you the second they can.

Just as you go to stir the pot of vegetables bubbling away on the stove, the music cuts out abruptly and a familiar pair of arms snake their way around your waist from behind, lacing themselves across the middle of your stomach. You jump, not expecting anyone to be against you, but as soon as your eyes catch that forearm full of familiar tattoos you settle. He’s home, that’s all that matters and those nerves that have been brewing inside your chest all day turn into delicious flutters as those large hands begin to roam across your body.

The old familiar curves call to him, beckoning him to travel their paths once again. Who is he to deny them? He does not even wait as his hands paw over your stomach and hips, those large, exploratory hands taking the curves of your body into their embrace over the t-shirt until his grip is so full he can’t contain any more. 

“You’re early,” you say through a smile as you settle back into him, head resting against his shoulder. 

The warmth from his breath is at the edge of your ear as he moves his face in closer while his hands wander with purpose. His lips are ghosting themselves near the delicate skin of your earlobe teasingly until he has you squirming in his arms. "Woulda called, just wanted to get home as fast as I fuckin’ could," he groans as he tightens his grip around you to cause your back to form into the contours of his taut chest. “Had a craving for somethin’ sweet.” 

Pulling up the t-shirt just enough he moves under it with those large hands, splaying them across your soft flesh around your waist, your hips, your stomach as he takes your earlobe in his teeth to nibble at it playfully until it sends shivers down your spine.

“I missed ya, baby,” he says desperately against the side of your head.

"I missed you too," you return. 

The longer he plays up under the shirt, the more your sanity wanes. His touch is ecstasy and after not having it for so long, it is hard to not immediately succumb to its bliss. He’s barely even begun and you are already falling apart; if this keeps up you’ll never finish what you have started on the stove. 

"I wish you would have called,” you say, trying to break the spell, “cause I wanted everything to be done before you got home. I’m not ready, I’m not even dressed. I wanted this to be perfect." 

His lips move from your earlobe and start just below your jaw, making the connection against your skin over and again along the line of your jugular as he descends down your neck with kisses. He pauses against the vein there as his lips pick up the thudding as it pulses under his touch. The more his mouth lingers, the quicker it gets. 

With a smile he nuzzles his nose into your skin as his nostrils fill with your scent; the fragrance fills his head and it feels like he is being consumed. “Don’t need to get dressed,” his words breeze over your neck and down your chest, “ya look perfect just like this. How could I ask for anythin’ more?”

Simon takes the spoon out of your hand and rests it on the counter so that he can turn you around to face him; that stoic military officer is yearning to look into the face of the beauty he hasn't seen in far too fucking long. Meeting your gaze for the first time in months is akin to a contact high and immediately he is out of his goddamn mind as your eyes lock to his.

You are struggling just as badly. It is always a struggle not to miss him like crazy when he’s gone and now that he is back there is so much time to make up for. And the way he looks as he stands here in front of you, hands around your hips, isn’t helping. The universe knew what they were doing when they put Simon together and even though the black around his eyes is already smugged and his crinkled blonde hair is pressed down from being under his balaclava, the sight of him still makes your stomach flip. You are transfixed and it’s getting harder to breathe.

Brown eyes trail down your features to take you all in, drinking up every gorgeous facet of your face as his hands move to cup around the sides of your head like the frame around a work of art. Those eyes that light up whenever they look at him, that sweet mouth always ready with a smile, those soft cheeks glowing whenever he touches you, all of it a unique perfection that he cannot get enough of. Finally his sight lands on your mouth and as if drawn by an overwhelming urge he is compelled to move in.

He has to kiss you; it is suddenly unbearable that he still hasn’t tasted you yet. 

Leaning into your face he gives your lips a peck to test that they still feel the same as he remembers. Pulling back, he catches the sparkle in your eyes that tells him to do that again and he is ready to oblige. Then he steals another and another at an increasing pace until his mouth smashes against yours and latches on, drawing you in as he deepens the connection. 

His tongue meets yours and shoves its way past the barrier of your lips and into the confines of your mouth as he tastes you. Everything comes flooding back all at once and he is overtaken by all that familiarity. The longer the connection lasts the more he loses himself until he is panting into you, sharing one sticky, hot bit of air as his features shape themselves around your own to make your faces become one.

The thick stubble outlining his jaw abrades the skin of your cheeks and around your lips, making your face sting, but you don't want him to pull away. Not yet, not when his lips are making your mind hazy and your limbs tremble as all that tension that has been building for days as you wait for his return bubbles over the surface. 

His desperation is showing as his dick digs itself into your upper thigh, pulsing and throbbing the harder it gets until you cannot ignore it. Each heavy breath pushes his bulky chest against yours until you can feel his rapid pulse rushing angrily through his veins as his heartbeat pounds. 

"You’re gonna be the death ‘a me," he says quietly under his breath as he cannot think of anything else to say in that moment; his mind is too absorbed in the way your kiss is like heaven and he is succumbing to the feeling of it. “I know I said I’d wait til later, but I don’t think I can, sweetheart. It’s been hell without ya.”

At this rate Simon isn’t going to make it to dinner and you’re so close to being done, but maybe there is something you can do to sate him long enough that you can get through this. With a bit of struggle you break the kiss and pull away as he desperately tries to wrangle you back in so that you have to place your hand on his chest to get him to pause.

Giving Simon’s lower lip one last quick nip you slowly lower yourself to your knees before him, your fingers lacing into the leather of his belt as you fiddle with the buckle. “Then how about I give you a little something to keep you satisfied til dinner’s over?” you suggest as you look up at him with those pretty doe-eyes. “Something to make you feel better?” 

His chest heaves up and down with each laborious breath he takes as you jump into unhooking the metal of his buckle and pulling the leather through until the belt hangs loosely around his hips. Your fingers slide down the zipper, but before you can do more his hands press yours into place along the lower portion of his pelvis so that you can’t keep undressing him.

“Ya don’t have to do this,” he mildly protests. Simon knows if you don’t stop he isn’t going to be able to either and this dinner is going to take a detour, though he can’t lie that he wants you to keep going. 

Giving you a look, he waits to see if you stand back up, but you only smile as you pull your hands back out from underneath his. “I want to do this for you, baby,” you reassure, lifting the bottom of his shirt and leaning in to kiss along the light colored patch of hair that trails down into his boxers as you finish undoing his pants. 

How in the hell is someone supposed to resist this? Simon is strong, he would not have gotten far in life if he wasn’t, but not this strong. You reach the waistband of his underwear with your lips and meet the seam with your fingers to pull them down under his ass low enough that you can release his thick, fat cock.

He is hard already, the tip swollen and angry, and the veins running through it visibly throbbing. The inside of your mouth salivates as it remembers the feeling of being stuffed with that girthy appendage. You keep the spit gathered on your tongue as you lean in and open your lips.

Taking the tip of your tongue you trace the head of his cock as your hand at the base keeps his foreskin pulled back. A breathy moan rumbles out from somewhere deep inside his chest, low and guttural as his hips buck and his ass hits into the ledge of the kitchen counter, making his belt jingle from the movement.

“Fuck,” he chokes out as his head falls back and his eyelids momentarily close. “Forgot how that pretty mouth feels ‘round me.”

He can feel a tightening around him as your lips contort into a smile, excited that you can still make that big ol boy come undone with something as simple as your mouth. Clearly he has been just as worked up as you have been for him to get home. As Simon settles back against the countertop with his palm on your cheek, his thumb lovingly strokes the corner of your full mouth as you continue on.

Your lips around him, wet and messy, suck him in until his cock reaches the threshold of your throat. Those pretty eyes of yours lift back up to look into his face, keeping contact as you choke around him, vision swimming with tears while your head bobs up and down in a steady rhythm. Your lips are bright red and swollen from his kiss, your cheeks blossoming with heated color, that lust-drunk look plastered on your face; it all makes up the gorgeous picture. The visual makes his blood pressure rise until his limbs are vibrating with the racing beats of his heart. 

The slurping sounds of your saliva-filled mouth being fucked is punctuated by sparse gags; it hasn’t been this full for a while and it’s going to take some getting used to. Still, you don’t slow your pace, even as his hips begin thrusting against your face the longer you go. It’s like you’d rather suck him off than breathe and goddamn is that a turn-on. 

Simon releases your cheek so that he can rest his hands on the counter behind him. He hasn’t had you like this in so long that it doesn’t take much to overwhelm him now. That pressure deep inside is building to its peak, drawing his body to the edge of its release with each pass of your mouth over him from as far down the base as you can reach back to the tip. His hands grip hard into the surface behind him until his knuckles turn white.

Shit, he is going to come just like he knows you want, but it is at that moment that he realizes that he doesn’t want to just take this quick blow job and be done with you until later. Simon needs you, all of you, under his touch and at his disposal right this fucking second. Suddenly he is pulling out of your mouth and situating his cock back into the confines of his pants as you stare up at him with your head tilted in confusion. 

“What’s…” you start to ask, but before the words can even leave your lips you are being pulled to your feet. He doesn’t say a word as he wipes away a bit of spittle that has dripped from the corner of your mouth, using his thumb to remove it before he kisses you full force again. 

It's too much, too strong an all consuming feeling to stop and so without warning he pulls from you and throws you over his broad shoulder to carry you out of the room in a rush. He is frantic; he needs to have you now and can’t wait to drag you all the way to the bedroom. No, it’s too far.

Scanning around him as his aroused brain tries to find the fastest solution, he spots it. The dining table that you’ve set special for tonight is just a few feet away and he instantly brings you over to it. Dishes clank and clatter, ceramic and glass hitting itself as he hurriedly shoves everything out of his way to make room for your body before setting you on the surface.

"I know you’re not done cookin’, but I’m hungry for somethin' else," he breathes as he sets you down and lays you back. “I need ya now…waited too long for this.”

The movement has caused your shirt to get pulled up off your stomach and the uncovered area catches his eye; more skin that he desperately needs to claim and now. He brushes his fingertips down across your waist and over your navel, past to your lower abdomen until he lightly grazes the seam of your panties. He can feel the goosebumps forming under his touch and he can hear the hitch in your breathing the lower he gets. 

Reaching your sex he cups his wide palm over the mound and applies pressure. It is warm to the touch and he can feel it radiate into his hand. You buck against him, squirming at the unexpected sensitivity with a gasp. All that softness of your body, so delicate to the touch like silk against his skin, it’s too much for him to handle. Simon has had months and months of only rough, coarse, and rugged things from the brutal environment he was forced to endure, but the moment his fingers grace across all that balmy flesh his brain short-circuits.

It’s not just your looks that drive him wild, though. You are the one bit of happiness he keeps separate from the brutality of his work, the sanctuary that he looks forward to coming home to, the calm in his stormy existence. That's why he suggested he take care of the money so you could stay at home, not bother yourself with working, so that the harsh world wouldn't taint your sweet demeanor with its cruelty. And in return you take care of his life, never asking for anything as you make sure everything here runs smoothly.

"You're always takin’ care a me, makin' sure that everything is perfect when I get back home," he says as he gets more worked up. "Now it's my turn to return the favor. Goddammit, I just wanna screw the hell outta my pretty girl until she can’t move."

Firm hands cup against your hips as his fingertips slip between your panties and your warm skin, tangling them in the fabric so that he can pull them down your thighs and off your legs. Your bare petals faintly glisten as he gets a peak at them through the tight space between your legs, a product of his minimal touch already working on your body; nice to know he still has that effect on you no matter how much time you’ve spent apart. He slides his hands between your thighs, parting them easily as a knife in warm butter, until his hand is deep enough that he can stop and separate them so that the gap is wide and his body can easily fit in between.

"All this for me?” he asks as he stares like an animal starved at your pussy, mouth salivating to play. "Bet you’ve been achin’ somethin’ terrible since I left. Do ya need me ta fix that?”

“Yes,” you breathe.Your body is radiating with the intensity of every sensation that courses through your limbs like an electrical current everywhere Simon touches you.

“That’s a good girl,” he says as he glides his hand up so his fingers can part through the lips of your pussy.

Two of those thick fingers slide between the petals of your sex towards your entrance, gathering as much of your slick as he can on his digits. Carefully he teases them around the rim of your core, circling it through the dampness gathering in your slit. “One or two?” he asks as your back arches off the table, the stimulation driving you to the brink of insanity; it’s been too long since you’ve felt his fingers there.

You swallow hard. “T-two,” you beg. At this point, any amount will work as long as they are his and as long as they get inside you.

“Oh sweetheart, that’s what I like ta hear,” he praises as he aligns his fingers with your opening and slowly fits those two long fingers inside and up into you. “Fuck, there ya go. Just breathe for me, that’s it. Let your body do all the work and take ‘em in.”

They slip up further into your cunt and with a slow pace he begins to pump in and out of you while the overwhelming pressure causes you to arch your back up off the table. Instinctively, your hips buck against his hand, trying to make as much contact with him as possible. 

Those long, coarse fingers curl inside you continuously as his heavy palm rests over top of your sex to put pressure so that he can make more contact and cause more friction with your G spot as his thumb nestles against your clit. Your body writhes against the table, your head falling back with eyes closed as the twinges of pleasure spring up your spine and Simon is grinning from ear to ear to see he still knows how to work his sweetheart just the way she likes.

As he watches you fall apart to the stroking of his fingers, from the corner of sight he catches it: that bounce at the top of your torso under the shirt. It’s as if he suddenly remembers about those beautiful breasts as they rebound with his strokes and out of a drunken haze he is consumed by the need to see them.

Pushing the bottom of your shirt up over your chest, it’s revealed that you don’t have on a bra and his breath hitches to see those perky tits he’s been dreaming of burying his face in staring right back at him. Fuck, he can’t stop himself from getting at all that juicy meat and quickly he leans over you with a groan from the table so that he can reach you with his mouth. Lightly he grazes his teeth over the delicate skin of your nipple to make the little bud grow hard under the sharp contact.

"Oh God, Simon," his name falls from your lips in a breathy prayer.

The sweet sound of his name being spoken in such a desperate way only spurns him on; he needs to hear it as many times as he can make you repeat it, especially after not being able to hear it at all while he was gone. "Say it again," he demands, never lifting his face from your breasts, just switching sides periodically to get them both engaged.

His tongue flicks at the hardened nipple and it makes you whimper as the stimulation runs down your body like liquid fire until you can feel its effects radiating in your clit each time his thumb strokes over it. You know that he wants you to say his name again, but you don’t know if you can. It’s too much stimulation that you are losing your ability to speak.  

"Simon," you say as your voice shakes.  

His hum of satisfaction vibrates through the tissue of your breast. "Again," he repeats firmly before drawing it fully into his mouth. Latching on he takes as much of your breast as he can fit and sucks down hard. 

“S-simon,” your desperate voice clumsily moans. 

Tiny beads of sweat form along the line of your body as it burns with the intensity of the ecstasy you feel under his expert care. He’s in your head, in the very marrow of your bones; there isn’t a part of you that isn’t consumed by him. Those rough fingers grinding away into your pussy and his mouth on your body all pail in comparison to the way his kiss had felt on your lips. That desperate, consuming, overwhelming kiss is your drug and you need another hit.

Your fingers lace into his short hair and you tug hard to pull him from your chest, only then does he unlatch himself from your breast as you guide him back up to your mouth. Simon’s lips are nearly raw and yet he takes yours as roughly as he had in the kitchen, never slowing the pace of his finger fucking. 

It’s like liquid fire, your kiss, and he sucks down with a hunger that cannot be quenched. The sound of your sloppy lips match the wet slaps currently being produced between your legs. Simon is drunk as his mouth takes and takes and takes, and yet… 

His mouth craves more, another set of lips.

The pad of his tongue makes contact with your clit and you jolt, making the table creak as the over-stimulation sends shock waves through your needy body. You can feel the sigh he releases against you as he begins to suck on the nodule of pleasure while flicking it with his tongue; it’s hard to think amongst the staggering overstimulation is leaving you begging and pleading for mercy.

Simon pulls from you amidst your whined protests to drop to his knees before you, giving those thick thighs his attention. His face comes level with your pussy that is absolutely soaked from the work of his fingers and raising your legs to rest your ankles on his shoulders, he dives in. Instantly his face is buried in your heat and as he brushes his tongue through your slit his mouth is filled with your nectar, that tangy burst of flavor that he can not get enough of. It is slathering all over the lower half of his face, coating him from his nose to his chin in the scent of your arousal.

Your thighs squeeze around his head and then release. “I can’t…I-I can’t…” you murmur as you try to move from him.

His mouth releases from you. “Yes, yes ya can, baby. Now, come on my face,” he says fiercely as he grips into the muscle of your hips with all his strength, secures you to his sharp features, and dives right back in like a man starved. 

“F-f-fuck,” you groan as your hands seize the tablecloth in your fists, that coil of pleasure tightening in your stomach tighter with each flick of his tongue. 

Feverish movements against that erogenous button are no longer controlled as he devours all he can, forcing your body towards that ledge to throw you off into ecstasy. He craves it, burns for it, and would die for it: the way you feel, the way you taste, the way your hips writhe against his advances, it all makes him rabid.

As your breath grows shorter and shorter, he knows it's not far; just a bit more suffocation on his part and you will be done in. He moves his face down to tease your hole with his tongue as his nose takes over on your clit. You are so hot it feels like someone has set you on fire as the knot in your stomach gathers to its breaking point. It’s there, right there within reach; just a little more and you are going to come hard and he’ll get his wish. 

Those desperate whimpers quiet all of a sudden and he knows it’s happening; with a few more flicks of his tongue you plunge off the edge with a cry as your thighs clamp down tight around his ears so that he is blocked against you, but that is exactly what he wants. Those seconds after your orgasm shakes through you are his favorite: you writhing uncontrollably over him as he continues to stroke his tongue through you until that high has finally worn off.

Nothing has ever felt better and after not having this for months, it is pure heaven.

It isn’t until you settle down and your legs open back up that he emerges with his face covered in the sticky juices of your cum and his saliva. He is grinning like he has just been given a present, even as he wipes his mouth clean with the back of his hand before wiping the slick on his t-shirt.

“Fuckin’ fantastic as always, baby,” he breathes. “But I ain’t done with ya yet. I think we can get at least one more orgasm from ya right now. Come ‘ere.”

He helps your weak body to sit up on the edge of the table to embrace your lips, hoping to reinvigorate you to keep going with the intensity of his desire. You can taste yourself in his kiss, a mixture of sweet and salty that combines with his natural tang to become the flavor of your union. The kiss only lasts a few more seconds, but after just being made to come the exhaustion makes it feel like a lifetime… not that you are complaining.

Pulling from you, he tugs at the crotch of his pants; he can’t wait anymore. “I need ya ta get up and turn ‘round, sweet thing,” he says, guiding you up and rotating you around before pushing you back down onto the table, this time on your stomach. “Gotta get inside. Need ta fill ya.”

The sound of metal jingles as he lowers his pants as his knee pushes against your inner thigh to spread you wider. He releases his cock again and squats down lower so that he can align the tip with your entrance. You can feel it press through the swollen lips of your pussy and you ready yourself for that moment when you’ll be split open.

He can already feel your dampness on his cock as he guides it through and without hesitation he grabs your hips and thrusts inside all the way down to the very base of his cock. Simon instantly bottoms out and needs a second to collect himself; it’s been too fucking long since he’s been inside you and if he isn’t careful he is going to come to quick for him. 

Those rough fingers dig in deeper to your hips as he tries to hold on for dear life. “Goddammit, baby,” he groans. “I’ve missed this.”

His girth stretches your core wide to its limit so that the walls of your cunt can’t help but feel every single detail of his cock: every enlarged vein, the exact curve of it, each and every crease.

It’s like he’s imprinting it with his signature, letting your pussy know that the one it belongs to is home once again.

Hips begin to rock slowly at first and are immediately punctuated by deep-throated groans as he cannot keep himself calm for long no matter how hard he tries. Your body is too much like paradise, so devastatingly amazing that even though he is desperately clawing at his sanity it is slipping through his fingers faster and faster with each thrust like sand in a sieve. Pulling almost completely out of you he slams back into your core down to the base, repeating this over and over with a ferocity that only gets worse. 

Your body rocks, breasts bouncing and bunching the tablecloth as you are pressed into the surface; you can only moan as the uncomfortable fullness becomes euphorically intoxicating. The table squeaks and strains against each plunge of him deeper into your pussy, threatening to break under the force at any second. Plates and silverware clatter to the floor as they are knocked off and yet you do not care. He will just replace them anyway so there is no sense to take yourself out of the moment to worry about it. 

"Ya look so fuckin' pretty with my cock buried in ya," he grunts. "My sweet girl, my good little wife, always keepin' my balls empty. How'd I get so goddamn lucky to marry someone so good, yeah?"

Desperately he grinds harder and harder into you as if he cannot get deep enough, like he cannot fill you full enough. The recoil of your ass as he pounds into you from behind is something he can’t pull his sight from even if he wants to. He is mesmerized, watching himself disappear into the confines of your body only to reemerge more coated in your juices than when he went in. 

“I want ta feel ya pulse around me each letter of my name,” he says as his hand runs down the length of your spine. “Come on, baby, let me fuckin’ feel it.”

You follow his command and flex the muscles in your pelvis. Ten letters isn’t that much, not for him; you do it all for him, anything he asks, anything he needs because you know that he is just as whipped for you as you are for him and this is the way to keep him coming back like a good little pup.

He’s panting like a bitch in heat behind you. “That’s it, fuck, just as that.”

So wet, so tight, the pulsing, the throbbing, the speckles of sweat covering your bodies, his hands grabbing at skin, your hips grinding into him… it’s all too much. “Keep going,” you beg with a shudder. “Fuck, Simon right there.”

You can feel him hitting that sensitive spot inside, his cock pounding over it at the perfect angle, and your limbs tingle as the second coming is fast approaching. There is only one man who can make you come multiple times and it is and always has been your husband. And now his complete possession of your body is almost finished.

“Come on, my pretty girl, gimme another,” he urges enthusiastically as he hears your whimpers get louder while your body trembles. “I know ya have another for me and I fuckin’ want it.”

He pounds into you as if his life is dependent on your orgasm and you steady yourself by gripping onto the edge of the tabletop. The pressure builds and builds, a scourge to your sanity until all at once that bolt of hot electricity shoots through your limbs and your head falls forward with a whine as your second orgasm rockets through you so hard that you are left a mewling mess.

“Yes, yes, that’s it,” Simon growls as he finally allows himself to let go and all that build up, all that pining, all that longing for this moment comes to a head and with a few more hard, deep strokes inside your spasming pussy he too comes undone.

A roar rips through his chest as he pulls out and comes across your back, stroking his hand over his cock until he can milk himself dry. You close your eyes, laying your head down as he finishes and grabs a napkin that sits on the table above your head to wipe the cum off. His limbs feel heavy as he sits you back upright to face him. 

Simon simply stares into your face for a while, letting you both just work to catch your breaths. There are no words that need be said, not between you both. Once he is more calm, he gently pushes a strand of hair off your glistening face and tucks it behind your ear.  

“Ya did so well for me, sweetheart,” he says sweetly, placing a softer kiss on your lips as his heart slows. 

“Always for you,” you return with a smile against his lips. 

As you both stand there in the midst of the afterglow of your euphoria, a smell begins to waft in from the kitchen. It is unmistakably the scent of something burning. You poke your head around him just to be sure there isn’t a fire on the stove before turning back to his face.

“I hope you like your food burnt cause that’s what we’re gonna be having now,” you laugh as he pulls you back in for one more kiss, letting his forehead rest against yours.

“Guess its a good fuckin’ thing I filled up on the first course then,” he says as you tut in fake exasperation. He lowers his voice. “But ya know… if the food’s ruined, maybe we should just go ta bed.”

Something about the way he says it and the glint in his eye as you pull back, it doesn’t sound like you are going to be sleeping anything off.

[simporado]

‼️ nsfw, mdni please

self-indulgent baku being down bad for reader ^q^

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Bakugo closes his eyes to bask in the feeling. The feeling of shame? Or the feeling of his hand stroking is cock harder than he did the last time again? He's not really sure.

The thought flies away when he cums, his mind blanks at nothing but your face. His seeds splattering onto his pants and on his naked stomach. He falls down on his back, sweaty and panting. A hand goes over his eyes as he calms his breathing down.

"Fuckin' ridiculous." He huffs to himself, shaking his head as if disappointed in himself or to clear his head. He pushes his bangs out of his sweaty forehead as he gets up from his bed to go shower.

Its already almost a year since you've invaded his thoughts. and It's been about— actually he doesnt know since when he's started jerking off to the thought of you.

The first time he had ever looked at you this way was when that stupid dunce face and fuckass perverted grape tricked you and the girls into wearing that shitty cheering uniform. He thinks he probably wouldnt give a shit about those uniforms, had you not bumped straight into his chest that day along the halls, feeling left behind as all the girls had already gone out wearing those outfits.

You had looked stressed then, he remembers. He surmises its because you were wearing something different, and had none of your classmates with you.

"H-Hey, watch where you're fucking going!" He stammers a little, but makes sure to sound normal.

"A-Ah, sorry." is all you had said to him before hurriedly running out to the field to where the rest of the girls were.

He didnt know it then, but that was when he started noticing you.

It had only been stealing glances at you since then, until you had been partnered with him during no-quirk sparring.

Aizawa had you paired together that day. He huffed before getting into his fighting stance, and you did the same. You were in a ponytail, and seeing your hair up was already doing things to him, but he had to focus.

He’d lunged in first, and at the first half of your spar, he seemed to have the upper hand. Then, you started to finally hit back and dodge his advances. He noticed immediately that you were studying how he fights. And he sports a somewhat crazed smile at the realization.

Infuriated and probably turned on, he fought harder, and so did you. But alas, he still ended up winning. He had you immobilized on your stomach on the ground. His hand pinning your arms a bit painfully on your back while he straddles the back of your thighs. Your is face squished against the mat floor of the gym. You grit your teeth in pain caused by Bakugo restraining you, but its also mostly in annoyance.

"You lost, shitty nerd—" he manages to say before hearing the whistle. His hold relaxes a bit, but you struggle and kick his rear, he stumbles forward a bit. He puts his hand in front of him beside your head to break his fall, but his crotch ends up grazing against your ass.

He freezes for a millisecond then shoots up instantly and left. He lets out an audible 'tch' before immediately walking away trying to look casual, despite his reddening ears.

He sighs as he closes the shower, then steps out to dry himself and get changed.

It was around after dinner time, and he's just about ready to go to bed. He heads down to the dorm kitchen to get himself water for his room. Surpisingly, no one else was down there in the common rooms.

Or so he thought, as he almost jumps when he sees an ass sticking out in front of him on the floor. It seemed like you were trying to reach for something from under the sofa.

"The fuck are you doing?" He asks, voice gruff. He kinda hopes he doesnt sound weird. You pull back to look at him, hair tussled.

" 'Was trying to get my phone." is all you say, your lips pouting a bit.

Bakugo's eye twitches. And his cock. Your eyes flicker down for a second.

"Fuckin' move over," He says before bending down to get your phone for you.

“Ah, but you don’t have t—“ but you r protests were futile already as Bakugo lifts the couch, making sure to show off his strength and biceps (thank god he wore a sleeveless shirt tonight) your way in feigned nonchalance, and grabs your phone with the other. This doesn’t go unnoticed by you, of course.

He was about to hand you your phone, but stops in his tracks when he looks down and sees what was on your phone screen.

It's a picture of him shirtless. A bit dirty and sweaty, probably during one of his hero work.

You move immediately to snatch your phone but Bakugo's reflexes are too quick. He raises an eyebrow at you. "You took this?" he asks, smirking.

"Izuku did." you shake your head, correcting him. You cross your arms and tilt your chin downwards to glare up at him. His eyebrows only shoot up higher at the information.

"This what made you drop your phone and got your ass out trying to get it back?" He asks, the smirk on his lips growing into a grin.

You glare at him, cheeks burning. You jerk your chin towards him. "You cant say shit about me when you've got a hard on. 'That because of my ass?" You ask, eyes glaring at him but he can see mischief and lust in them.

A groan rumbles deep in his chest before stepping close to you. "So what if it is?" he growls mostly out of struggling to keep his cool. He sees you slowly smile up at him at his answer, and you’ve never looked even more gorgeous. His heart thunders aggressively against his ribcage.

"I'll meet you at your room to help you with that." is all you say then turn to head to the elevator, not before snatching your phone in his hand.

He lets out a breath he didnt know he was holding. Snapping out of his stupor, he moves quickly to get his water bottle filled before sprinting to his room like a horny lovesick fool. God, you really will be the end of him.

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a/n

proofread it a bit, but probably still scuffed. i didnt bother at first because i thought i didnt like this piece enough. i see yall want a part 2… lmao i shall try. pray that my ovulation takes over me 🙏

[naburi]

I’LL DO ANYTHING, JUST DON’T TELL HIM

JIHYO X READER

TAGS: BLACKMAIL, CHEATING, TWERKING, ICE PLAY, DOGGY, COWGIRL, REVERSE COWGIRL, CREMPIE

2K WORDS

What would you do when you saw your friend’s fiancé in the arms of another man? What would you do if that woman was staring at you from a distance? The crowd can’t hide the girl who is now walking up to the comfort room. ”I’ll do anything, just don’t tell him,” she begged.

The draining corporate life made you a regular in this bar. It becomes your escape as alcohol can wash away your stress for the night. Loud music, waves of crowd, cold alcohol, it has become a routine now. All was the same until you saw a familiar face.

The dim-lighted place can’t keep her glowing face from attracting attention, her pink tube-top made her busty front more pronounced, her ponytail made it easy to gaze upon the beauty that’s on the other side of the bar. But this is not the first time you saw her.

“Everyone, this is my girlfriend,” your friend said, introducing her to your friend group. It was four years ago when you first laid eyes on her. chubby cheeks, giggling smile, thick and busty front. You were Jealous how your friend found a girl like her. Her innocence and thick body is a dangerous combination. You fantasize on breaking her innocence and using what her body is made for.

“Everyone, we’re engaged”, your friends announced last week. She now looks more fit, thinner waist, toned body, made her boobs more prominent. She is now more confident and mature. Everyone is excited for the wedding but behind closed doors, they want to hit their friend's fiancé.

The woman your friend group fantasized is in the arms of a middle-age man. He looks like he’s in early 40s, his arm across her shoulder, occasionally reaching her soft boobs to give a light squeeze. In return, the girl smirked and kissed the man's cheeks. She drank whenever the man poured in her glass. She let the man groped her while the other men besides them enjoyed the view.

She’s having the time of her life until she notices a familiar face. Someone was staring at her from a distance. It’s someone who knows her. She got sobered by the thought that you’ll expose her to your friend. If you didn’t see it yourself, you wouldn’t believe it either. She rallied to the comfort room to compose herself but you cut her off.

The two of you take a second in disbelief. “I’ll do anything, just don’t tell him.” Are the first words she can muster.

“Anything?” You asked.

“Yes, Just don’t tell anyone”, she pleaded.

That’s all you needed to hear. You waved your hand to one of the server. You requested a VIP room. The girl looked worried about where this could lead, but she didn’t have a choice. She knows if this gets leaked out, her wedding will be called off and her friends and family will look at her differently. Her life will change if anyone finds out.

Shot glasses, ice bucket and bottles of liquor in the wide glass table. Long black longues cover the three walls of the room. Soft music coming from the wide screen as the room is free from the loud noise of the bar. The server closed the door behind the two of you. You invited her to sit beside you but the woman is suspicious. Her mind goes through multiple scenarios on what can happen. You finally convinced her to sit but the woman is still worried.

“Now, what do you want?” she raises her voice.

“What I always want from you,” you retorted.

“And what is that?” She got curious.

“Use your body,” you said while staring at her.

Jihyo feels trapped, she is not in a position to negotiate.

She’s wearing a white high waisted pants that are too long for your liking. You asked her to remove her pants. Jihyo looks at you in anger, knowing you have all the power. She removes her pants revealing a black lingerie undies that covers her tight slit. Her huge boobs attract all the eyes around her, not knowing she also has toned legs and butt that is now in front of you.

You asked Jihyo to turn around and expose her ass more. She shoots a death stare at you before turning around. She’s mad at the situation she's in but she can’t do anything. Jihyo, while embarrassed, leaned down her torso while keeping her legs straight. You now have a better view of her firm ass. Your hand slaps and grabs her ass which elicits a light groan for her.

One hand groping her ass while the other reaches her slit, lightly caresses it over her underwear. Jihyo left out a low moan. She quickly caught herself and held her moan. This made you chuckle, the woman who is in an unfavorable position is still finding the situation pleasurable.

“Twerk for me,” you order her.

Jihyo is not strange in “entertaining” guests, she bent her knees to get into a low position, she took a quick glance before starting moving her ass up and down. Her firm ass bounces every move she makes. She changes the tempo to build tension and anticipation. She even gets closer to your seat as this goes on. Her ass is now bouncing down on your legs, this move of her made you inpatient. you grab her ass and position it where it now bounces on the bulge on your pants. This made the two of you moan as you felt each other’s parts.

She felt your numerous slapped to her ass while you felt her ass bounces rapidly in your bulge. The two of you left a long groan both feeling hot from the position. Jihyo quickly obliged when you asked her to get on top of you. Both her arms wrap around your neck, she stares at you before grinding her hips on top of you. The feeling of your bulge directly hitting her covered slit is enough for her to get turned on even more. The huge boobs that you fantasized are now in front of you.

You pulled down her tube tap revealing her huge soft boobs. You didn’t waste anything, you alternated suck both her nipples wanting to give each the attention they deserved. Moans come out from her with the feeling of your tongue savoring all parts of her nipples. You got motivated on how she enjoyed it. You reach down on the ice bucket on the table and grab an ice cube.

Jihyo is looking at you, anticipating the next move that you’re gonna do. You lightly grazed the ice cube on her now hard nipples. She let out a loud moan as she got surprised with the cold sensation. Seeing the reaction that you’re looking for. You press the cube on her nipples, circling it around making Jihyo jerks and moans with how you’re using the ice to stimulate her.

You noticed that she put her hand inside her underwear to play with her clit. Jihyo wants to be released with how stimulated she is. Wanting to stimulate her more, you pick another ice cube and put it inside her undies as well. You ordered Jihyo to continue her grinding on top of you. The woman moans like a mess as the ice cube keeps pressing directly on her clit. Her movements get faster insinuating she’s near her orgasm. You put an ice cube on your mouth then sucked one of her boobs. Your flickering tongue, the warmth of your mouth and the coldness of the ice is what made Jihyo release her orgasm.

Still catching her breath, you position her in a doggy position, her hands are holding the backrest of the lounge, her feet dangling over the seat. You move aside her soaking undies to reveal her wet slit. You told Jihyo that you’re going to put it in. Her wetness made it easy to push in your cock. She thought that you put it all in but she noticed that you still keep going. You both moan as now your cock is balls deep in her. You pull it out slowly then trust it hard again. You keep this tempo while Jihyo can only moan on your every thrust.

You confessed how many times you imagined doing things on her. You said how jealous you felt when your friend managed to get her. And how her boyfriend is not around, they talk about how they are going to lust over Jihyo. This made her feel horny, knowing a whole group is fantasizing over her.

She also confesses that your friend didn’t know how to satisfy her which forced her to seek pleasure with other men. This made you view her cheating in a different light. She wants her needs to be fulfilled. You grab her hips and both of your arms and thrust her in an aggressive manner. Jihyo realized what you’re doing, you want to help her needs. She moans loudly signaling you that you’re hitting her g-spot. Jihyo reached into one of your hands and put it in her boob, you realized what she wanted. You put two hands on each of her boobs, pinching her nipples while the other grope her soft boobs. Her getting fuck like this in a doggy position is enough for her to release again.

She asked to take a break for a moment, sitting in the lounge, you offer her a drink to replenish some energy. She leaned her head on your shoulder while caressing your arms. She’s now more comfortable with you than before. “You’re the first man who made me release twice.” Jihyo whispered in your ear. You had a few chit-chat while wearing only underwear. emptying a bottle, you're about to open another one but she had other plans. She reaches at your cock which gets harder quickly by her touch. Jihyo keeps her eyes locked onto you as she kneels down on the floor. She gives your cock a few strokes as she licks your balls down. Still keeping her eye contact, her mouth now is on the tip of your cock. Slowly putting it all in her throat, Jihyo hit a plateau where she can’t take more in. Her eyes get watery, she raises her head up to catch her breath then engulfed your cock again, this time hitting the hilt of your cock. Her tight throat is unlike any other. Based on the look of her face, this is the deepest her throat got stretched by a cock. Jihyo is determined to get used to your cock. You hold her hair by her ponytail and push her head down to your cock. It takes a while she gets used to it but now you're the one groaning with how she deepthroat your cock.

Jihyo felt your cock twitch, she pulled her cock out to her mouth and stood up. She puts her ass in front of you, her other hand putting your cock in her slit. She sits down on you in one go. Jihyo groaned as she felt your cock again inside her. “Come inside me,” Jihyo said. She gradually picked up her pace as she’s bouncing on your hard cock. She started caressing her own boobs while keeping her fast pace. “I’m about to cum,” she said in a hurried voice. Maybe Jihyo hasn’t noticed yet but she’s getting closer to orgasm when her boobs get stimulated. You hold Jihyo's hips to thrust up to meet her ass bouncing down. She’s about to release. You buried your cock deep inside her before joining her orgasm.

You're the first person who let her explore her sexual needs, from doing it in public to having sex while on a video call with her fiancé. She promised that she’s not going to do it with you after they got married.

Few days into their marriage, your phone rings, it’s Jihyo asking to meet her up.

[junicult]

!! the bachelors when they’re horny

contains ; much suggestive content. fem!farmer. established relationships (marriage). reader has hair that can be put into a ponytail. nsfw, no actual smut. sorta proofread.

note ; here’s another apology for disappearing :,,

harvey.

- the love of my life.

- he’s more of a romantic.

- so he tends to take a sweeter, gentler route into hinting at him being in the mood.

- it’s not a hard task, either.

- this man is so in love with you. when he’s in love, it can just be the sight of you to turn him on.

- some of the easiest, i’d say is anything that reminds him he’s married to you.

- like yeah, of course he knows that, but it always makes his day when he reminds himself of it.

- such as coming home to you, making dinner for you or when you make dinner for him.

- sitting in ur home together, eating and talking about your day. just reminds him of the fact that he gets to do this with you, and no one else does.

- since he knows how busy you are, he absolutely loves being a househusband. spoiling you by doing all the household chores while you work your ass off outside.

- and he genuinely enjoys doing that,

- but on the rarer occasion when you take most of the day off, and he’s out at work—that’s what really gets him.

- the smallest gesture of picking up his empty plate and washing the dishes.

- when you constantly say, “honey, i’ve got it,” as he tries to help…it does something to him.

- it’s a small act of love that shows him you care so much about him without saying it.

- now, maybe it wasn’t your intention to turn him on. i mean, it’s quite literally a regular, basic gesture—

- but here he is. throat aching, palms starting to sweat and his growing hard-on straining in his pants.

- all because you showed basic human decency.

- lol.

- also because it’s the love of his life doing it for him, but still. he can’t help it. he’s just so infatuated with you.

- as for getting the hint across to you? ofc he’s not gonna fucking say it.

- he overthinks everything. and the last thing he’d want is for you to feel obligated just because he wants to.

- but there’s an obvious tell when it comes to harvey, and it’s not just the fact that his cheeks get all red.

- it’s the way he starts to fumble over his sentences, mumbling and stuttering his words.

- he’s not very smooth i fear.

- but that’s what we love about him🫶

- it doesn’t take long to realize you’ve got him tense. feel free to tease him a bit.

- the minute you show you’re on the same page, however, he gets a pick up in his confidence.

- whenever he’s turned on like this, it’s always the best for you.

- his beautiful wife does something sweet for him? then you better believe he’s going to be even sweeter to you.

sam.

- i’ve said this before,

- but it’s not hard to get him in the mood.

- show him even the tiniest sign that you’re horny, and he is too.

- what can i say, he’s a simple man.

- now, don’t mistaken that as anybody that comes along, shows a little affection can turn him on. bc that’s not true. at all.

- in fact, he’s incredibly oblivious to that kinda stuff. if he gets hit on, he’ll just take it as a compliment.

- it’s you that turns him on. it’s your affection. it’s the fact that you want him.

- bc he’s just that in love with you, he gets all excited when he’s in those situations with you.

- SO!!

- he gets so cute when he’s needy.

- he’s always down hug and hold you, trust me. his love language is for sure physical touch.

- even just in general, he has to be holding your hand while you’re standing together, he’s latched onto you when you’re laying together. he’ll even hold onto you as you’re cooking dinner. he loves touching you.

- and when he’s horny it’s no different.

- it’s so random, but one of his major turn ons is watching tie your hair out of your face.

- super casually, too. can be mid-conversation, or he just catches a glimpse of you doing it across the room.

- “your mom wants a me to bring a largemouth bass for dinner tonight, can you feed the chickens please?” your explain as you secure your ponytail with a hairtie.

- he’s all sorts of distracted, obviously listening to your request but he can’t help but focus on the action.

- “yeah, for sure—totally,” he nods, and the minute u walk out the door he has to let out a large huff of breath.

- another thing that vvvv much turns him on is when u walk fresh out of the shower with only a towel on.

- like, i’m talking u can still see the droplets of water on your shoulders, and your hair is soaking to the touch.

- he’s a simple man i said.

- and what’s funny is, he always showers with you.

- so seeing you like that will happen 9/10 times after u shower.

- he looks pretty much identical to you, too. same sopping wet hair and towel around his waist.

- he’s cute with it though. like, ofc he stares at you, but he’s got the cutest smile & obvious flush across his cheeks.

- mumbles a soft, “you just look really pretty,” after you ask about it.

- …idk abt u but he’s getting it after that.

shane.

- there’s no hiding it.

- he’ll straight up tell you.

- honestly, i feel like every time he’s with you or he sees you, he’s always at least a little turned on.

- within reason of course.

- i mean, how can he not be?

- it’s just like, when you’re that in love, he’ll find you beautiful no matter what. and if you’re literally covered in dirt or soot from the mines head to toe, if you tell him ur horny he is not complaining 💀

- simply put, he’s always down.

- he’s very respectful, however. he knows if the time isn’t right.

- but anyways, when he’s rly horny, it’s not hard to figure it out.

- he makes so much more eye contact, and becomes like the most intense listener.

- i don’t want it to sound like he isn’t already a good listener, he’s not an asshole (for the most part <3)

- it’s not like he’s doing the bare minimum just to get in your pants. he becomes such an intent listener because he’s turned on from the way you talk.

- like he’s enchanted. he could listen to you forever. he genuinely wants you to continue.

- when ur lying in bed together before going to bed, casually recapping your day and he can’t help but think about how pretty you look while u innocently put lotion on.

- and then his thoughts wander. and then he’s thinking the other pretty sounds your voice makes.

- and once you finish, you ask a sweet, “so how was your day, handsome?”

- he’s all, “pretty boring. missed you a ton.”

- you’re too deep in your relationship to know his compliment is also a pickup line, and that his thumb rubbing your thigh isn’t him just showing affection.

- it’s only a matter of time before he’s looking over at you with the smallest smirk and glazed eyes.

- “you feeling okay? still got some energy left?”

- not subtle indeed.

sebastian.

- in the beginning of ur relationship, he was turned on by many things you did, but he’d wait until he had an actual excuse.

- let me explain,

- when you were getting ready for bed, and he was spending the night, he’d watch you delicately take off your jewelry and carefully put them away—instant turn on.

- but it wasn’t until u joined him in bed, gave him a couple kisses on the cheek, & hinted that u were in the mood yourself when he’d fold.

- like he’d wait until he had an “excuse” for some reason.

- as for now, when ur relationship is very committed and ur living under the same roof, he stopped overthinking as much.

- instead of watching your dainty fingers unclasp each necklace, it was his to help you.

- then a gentle press of his soft lips to the center of your neck, & all he had to do was listen to your soft laugh, before you turned around and kissed him deeper.

- when he’s horny, that’s absolutely what he does. it saves him from outright saying it, and from making you feel bad if you aren’t. a win win.

- for sebastian to blatantly tell you he wants to have sex right now—he’s gotta be DEPRIVED.

- even though he’s comfortable with you, and no matter how long he’s been with you, he’s just not that kind of person to outright ask.

- plus, he likes when you come onto him. it’s an ego booster.

- he just loves u in general, and the fact that he knows u love him.

- now just bc i stated he doesn’t like to ask, doesn’t mean he never will.

- it’s rare, but he’s been with you for years. he’s bound to suggest it at least once.

- and if that were the case, he’ll still be shy about it.

- he’s been thinking about you all day, even clingy enough to bring himself out to help you with work.

- he’s sorta like ur shadow the entire day, and for a guy that deeply appreciates his alone time, it definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

- “what’s up, sebby? you’ve been really clingy today.” you giggle, leaning into his touch that wraps around your waist.

- you’ll get nothing but a hum and a shrug for now.

- and by the time your chores are wrapped up, the sun is long since set, and you’re all cleaned and full from dinner—is when you finally pry it out of him.

- “you’re just usually not like this,” you giggle, running your fingers through his hair after kissing his cheek.

- “can i not show my wife affection?” he dryly jokes back, causing you to roll your eyes.

- “okay, i don’t need the attitude. of course you can.” you tease, smiling when he wraps his arms a little tighter around you and pulls you in for a kiss.

- “you just look extra beautiful today, and i wanna do something about it.” he all but shrugs, his voice low and quiet between his lips pressing against yours.

- “like what?”

- “why don’t you let me show you?”

alex.

- pfft.

- he’ll tell you.

- he’ll actually make it known to whoever’s near. he has zero shame.

- he always gets rly horny whenever ur out in public together, like at dinner w friends, or at town gatherings.

- it’s definitely because he gets to see you all dressed up, spritzed with perfume and makeup done.

- trust me, the sight of you in your loungewear still makes him a horny. a different kind of horny, tho. i’ll get to that in a minute.

- but there’s something so satisfying abt showing up to an event with a fucking goddess by his side. you’re dressed to the nines and you’ve got his hand in yours.

- it’s like a silent bragging right that you fell in love with him, not anyone else.

- he’s a little possessive in that sense.

- when you guys haven’t seen each other in a couple hours, he’ll always come find you after a bit to check in.

- it’s so cute cus ur a little buzzed, and so is he.

- he’ll easily slot himself by your side, wrapping his arm around your waist and holding you close.

- just from the way your face immediately lights up, and a warm smile pulls at the corner of your cheeks is enough to turn him on.

- leans down to whisper in your ear, “when are you ready to head out? been dying to get this off of you,” while subtly tugging on the fabric hugging your hips.

- yeah, you’ll leave right after that😇

- and as for when he sees you in your loungewear,

- he tends to be a bit more loving.

- there’s definitely a side of him that only you bring out. he’s lowkey one of those guys that becomes such a softie when he’s alone with you.

- likes to hold u, or even be held if i may be so bold.

- so when he’s feeling particularly affectionate, mumbling abt how much he loves you and such, it tends to lead into a session or two.

elliott.

- he’s just beyond enamored by you and everything you do.

- he’s similar to shane in the sense that, no matter what he’ll always find you beautiful, and sexy.

- he’s the kind of guy who gets his own satisfaction by giving you what you want. so if ur horny, and you wanna have sex, well so is he.

- but for elliott, it’s different.

- it’s not so much as being horny and looking to just fuck,

- it’s him being in love with you, and wanting to make love to you, y’know?

- so when he’s horny, it’s usually when he gets his alone time with you.

- after you’ve finished work for the day, already showered, & he’s decided to wrap up his own work, is when you two can finally relax together.

- “you were out there for a while. busy day?” he asks curiously, silently patting his knee for you to prop your foot up.

- “ah, yeah, y’know, most of my crops needed to be harvested today and i had to run to pierre’s to plant some more.” you sigh, leaning back and indulging in his affection.

- it’s gonna sound a little weird, i know, but i feel like he silently loves when you’re a little sore.

- no, not because you’re in pain, but because he just loves the excuse to soothe you.

- he loves rubbing your shoulders and back, rubbing your feet when you’re tired while you tell him about your day.

- it’s usually then when he becomes infatuated, and all he wants to do is hold you and kiss you all over.

- so after some back and forth, talking about whatever news came up over the few hours you’ve been apart, is when he’s the most in love.

- there’s never really a verbal agreement, you two usually just feel it at the same time, which is when you lean in and it gets a bit heated.

- he can’t possibly pick one single thing you do that makes him hornier then another. it’s everything you do.