#I usually never get to them but this is easy one

[theonottsbxtch]

THE OTHER GUY PT.4 | FC43

part one | part two | part three |

an: only a couple more to go out! lmk if there is anything in particular you'd like to see and if you'd like to be added to my tag list :)

ynpiastri

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris and 34,244 others

city boy summer, can't keep the hoes away

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logansargeant: you are not a city boy

ynpiastri: or am i?

oscarpiastri: i, for the record am happily taken and will not engage in this tomfoolery

ynpiastri: @/lilyznimer i will pay you double what he's paying you to date him if you break up with him

userone: girl we all know franco is there too.

When you’d woken up this morning, the last thing you’d expected was a pounding at your door. It couldn’t have been housekeeping because you had it scheduled for 3 p.m., and it couldn’t have been a crazy fan because you made sure never to post near your door, ever. So when you opened it and were attacked by a flurry of blonde hair, your heart dropped. As per usual, whenever you saw the blonde mess, you knew your sheepish brother wasn’t far behind.

It was a welcome surprise, though. While you were enjoying the peace of the resort, it had been a while since you’d seen Logan or Oscar.

After catching up over breakfast and hearing their latest stories from home, you all had agreed to spend the day at the beach. The morning had been light and easy, filled with laughter and jokes, mocking how Oscar couldn’t tan and how Logan always managed to find an American flag, no matter what country he was in.

“You’ve been quieter than usual,” Logan said, nudging you with his elbow. He grinned, a knowing look in his eyes as he adjusted his sunglasses. “What’s on your mind?”

You shake your head, trying to brush it off. “Nothing, just thinking.”

Oscar, who was stretched out beside you with his arms behind his head, let out a chuckle. “Thinking about what?” Tilting his head to the side, he gave you a teasing glance. “You’ve been acting weird since you got here last week.”

There was no escaping it now. Of course it was going to be noticeable that you’d been quieter, but that was because the thoughts swirling around in your head weren't exactly ones you were ready to share. Still, you couldn’t ignore the topic forever.

“I don’t know,” you started, the words slow and careful. “I guess… I’ve stopped looking at him with so much hatred.” The words were out before you could even clarify who he was.

It felt strange admitting it out loud. You’d spent so long disliking him—publicly, even. But now? After spending more time here, after getting to know him in ways you hadn’t expected… things had changed.

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Wait. Are we talking about who I think we’re talking about?” He leaned in, clearly intrigued.

Glancing out at the ocean, you avoided eye contact with either man. “Yeah.”

Logan stayed quiet for a moment, and you almost regretted your words. Staying quiet for a beat longer, he sighed. “You know, he never did anything wrong.”

Turning around to face him, surprised, you lifted your sunglasses to look at him properly.

“He fought his way into the sport the same way I did,” Logan continued, his tone firm but not harsh. “You can’t hate him for something he can’t control.”

You felt your chest tighten. He was right. Deep down, you’d always known that. Franco didn’t choose to replace Logan—it wasn’t personal. He was just doing what any of them would do. Fighting for a place in a sport where nothing is guaranteed.

“I know,” you admitted softly. “It’s just… hard. I wanted to blame someone.”

Oscar sighed, giving you a sympathetic look. “We get it. But honestly, you’ve got to let it go. Holding on to that anger—it’s not going to do you any good.”

For a second, you wanted to laugh because you couldn’t recall the last time in your life Oscar and Logan had agreed on something.

Just as you were about to say something else, you noticed movement in the distance. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him— Franco —walking along the shore. His head turned in your direction, and when his eyes met yours, he lifted his hand in a casual wave.

At first you thought he may be waving to Oscar, but when a shy smile graced his lips your heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t not doing it for show, not trying to get under your skin. It was just a wave. Simple, friendly.

Before you could think too much about it, you waved back. And then, almost without realising it, a small smile tugs at your lips.

Both Oscar and Logan caught the interaction and raised an eyebrow, though Oscar didn’t say a word. Logan nudged you again, his voice teasing. “Well, look at that.”

You rolled your eyes at him but can’t help feeling a little lighter. Maybe you really were wrong about him. Maybe there’s more to him than the guy who replaced Logan.

You were still thinking about that smile when Logan gave you a sly nudge. “So… are you going to talk to him?”

Your head whipped around to his eyes wide. “What? No! Absolutely not.”

Oscar laughed, clearly enjoying your sudden panic. “Why not? You’ve already smiled at him, waved and everything. Just go over there and talk to the guy. It’s not like he’s some stranger.”

You shook your head, feeling your face heat up. “It’s not that easy! I can’t just walk up to him like it’s nothing.”

“Oh, come on,” Logan said,  rolling his eyes playfully. “You’ve been trash-talking him for months, and now you’re scared to ask him out for a drink? Seriously?”

Opening your mouth to protest, your face flushed as no words came out. You were flustered, and they both knew it.

Oscar sat up, shrugging nonchalantly. “What’s the worst that could happen? He says no? So what. But I don’t think he will.”

You glanced back towards where Franco was standing, now leaning against the railing, gazing out at the ocean. He looked relaxed, completely unaware of the internal chaos you were going through just a few feet away.

Your heart was pounding, and you felt a nervous knot in your stomach. “I can’t just… I mean, what would I even say?”

Logan gave you an encouraging smile. “Just be yourself. Ask him if he wants to grab a drink tonight. You’ve already softened up to him, right? This is your chance.”

You hesitated, glancing between Oscar and Logan, who both gave you looks that said go on, you’ve got this.

Finally, you exhale, standing up and wiping the sand off your legs. “Fine. I’ll do it. But if this goes horribly wrong, it’s your fault.”

Oscar grinned at you. “We’ll take full responsibility. Now go.”

With your heart still racing, you took a deep breath and started walking across the sand toward him. Each step feeling heavier than the last, your mind racing with all the things you could say—or worse, all the ways this could go wrong. But you were already halfway there, and there was no turning back now.

When you were just a few feet away, he noticed you approaching and turned around, his expression shifting from casual surprise to something more… interested. You could see it in his eyes, the way they lit up as you stopped in front of him.

“Hey,” you managed to say, hoping you didn’t sound as nervous as you felt.

“Hola,” he replied, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I wasn’t expecting you to come over.”

You bit your lip, suddenly feeling shy. Why did this feel so much harder than anything else you’d ever done? “Yeah, well… Oscar and Logan kind of persuaded me. They said I should talk to you.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? What about?”

Your mind went blank for a second, “I was, uh… wondering if you’d want to grab a drink with me tonight.”

The words came out in a rush, and you immediately felt your cheeks flush, but you managed to hold his gaze. You couldn’t believe you just said that. Your heart was thumping so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

Franco didn’t answer right away, but the smile on his face grew wider. “You’re asking me out?”

You nodded, trying to keep your cool. “Yeah. If you’re free, I mean. It’s fine if you’re not, I understand.”

His eyes softened, and for a moment, the cocky driver you’d seen in interviews was gone. In its place was  just a guy—surprised, maybe even flattered.

“I’d love to,” he said, his voice steady. “How about I pick you up around 8?”

Blinking, you took a minute to comprehend what he’d just said, relief and excitement flooding you all at once. “Really? Yeah, that works.”

“Great.” His smile was warm, and suddenly, the tension you were feeling melted away. “I’ll see you tonight, then.”

You nodded, still trying to process that you’d actually gone through with it—and that he had said yes.

“See you tonight,” you echo, then turn to walk back to Oscar and Logan before remembering he didn’t have your room number. “Uh, room 438.”

Franco nodded in your direction, “Room 438.”

ynpiastri

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, francolapinto and 31,487 others

fit check, kind of nervous guys (📸 @logansargeant)

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userone: FRANCO IN THE LIKES 🤭

usertwo: oh my god i want her

oscarpiastri: scared for what? i thought you were city boy summering rn

ynpiastri: @/lilyznimer PLEASE BREAK UP WITH THIS NERD

userthree: just seen franco in the hall of the same resort, looks quite dapper if you ask me

logansargeant: this isn't very city boy summer of you

ynpiastri: eat dirt 😍😍

userfour: franyn?

the end.

taglist: @iimplicitt @isaadore @iamred-iamyellow @justheretoreadthxxs @obxstiles @how-what-why-huh @raizelchrysanderoctavius @sainzzreputaticn @xxx-betty @dukeofjjune @dejavuontrack @littlegrapejuice @mxdi0

[pucksandpower]

Perfect Fit

Day 5 → Size Difference 💋 Oscar Piastri

Warnings: 18+ content

Kinktober Masterlist

“You sure she doesn’t snap in half when you’re together?” Lando’s voice rings out over the steady hum of the paddock, casual, like he’s asking about the weather.

Oscar’s head jerks up, his eyebrows knitting together. “What?”

“You know …” Lando gestures vaguely with his hand, as if the meaning will somehow fill the air between them. “You and her. She’s, like, tiny. Can’t imagine it’s easy for you.”

Oscar frowns, confused for a second before the meaning of Lando’s words sinks in. Lando is grinning like he’s delivered the world’s best punchline, but something twists in Oscar’s chest. The words linger. Too long.

“Mate, seriously?” Oscar scoffs, trying to laugh it off, but there’s an odd tension in his voice. “That’s what you’re thinking about?”

Lando shrugs, all casual, like he hasn’t just dropped a grenade between them. “Just making conversation. Didn’t mean anything by it.”

Oscar doesn’t respond, choosing instead to shove Lando lightly in the shoulder, pushing past him. His heart beats a little too fast, and he finds himself suddenly hyper-aware of the weight of Lando’s comment.

He tries to shake it off, but the thought is like an itch at the back of his mind, one he can’t quite reach to scratch. Size. How could he have never noticed it before? Of course, he knew you were smaller — he had to lean down to kiss you, had to watch his step to not bowl you over in tight spaces. But he’d never really thought about it. Not like that.

Now, though … now he can’t seem to stop thinking about it.

Later that evening, he’s at your apartment. You’re sitting cross-legged on the couch, flipping through some magazine, while he stands in the kitchen, mindlessly sipping from a water bottle. His eyes keep drifting over to you, studying the way you’re curled up. Small, Lando’s words repeat in his head. So much smaller.

You glance up and catch him staring. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly, too quickly. You squint, unconvinced.

“Oscar,” you say, drawing out his name like you’re prying for a confession. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he repeats, but the tension in his shoulders betrays him.

You set the magazine down, leaning back against the cushions. “You’re staring at me like I’ve grown a second head or something.”

Oscar clears his throat, still not moving from his spot by the counter. “It’s not — I mean, Lando said something stupid earlier.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Lando always says stupid things.”

He chuckles, but the sound is half-hearted. “Yeah, but this was, like, extra stupid.”

“What’d he say?”

Oscar hesitates, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s dumb, really.”

“Now you have to tell me,” you say, tilting your head, that teasing smile starting to curl at your lips. You always get that look when you know he’s holding something back, and he knows you won’t let it go until he spills.

He sighs, finally pushing away from the counter and walking over to sit beside you on the couch. “It’s just … he made some joke about, uh … about our size difference.”

Your brows furrow. “What about it?”

Oscar pauses, trying to find the right words. “He basically said … I don’t know. That it must be … hard. You know, because you’re, uh, smaller than me.”

Your lips press together, a faint blush creeping up your neck as the meaning hits. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Oscar lets out a breath, rubbing his palms over his jeans. “I didn’t think much of it at first, but now I can’t stop … noticing it.”

There’s a beat of silence between you, the kind that feels heavier than usual.

You swallow, shifting a little on the couch to face him. “Is it weird for you?” You ask quietly. “Our size difference?”

Oscar’s head snaps up, eyes wide. “No — no, it’s not weird. It’s not like that. I’ve just … I never really thought about it before. And now it’s in my head.”

“So it’s in your head that I’m small?” You ask, a teasing edge to your voice, though there’s a hint of nervousness underneath it.

He laughs softly. “It’s not just that you’re small. It’s … everything. Like, I never thought about how I have to be careful with you. When I hold you, or when we’re … close.”

You tilt your head, curious. “You don’t think about it when we’re close?”

“I mean, I think about it,” he admits, his voice dropping. “But not in a bad way. I just-” He falters, searching for the right words. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your heart skips a beat at his honesty, the vulnerability that’s starting to seep through the cracks. You reach out, placing a hand on his knee. “You wouldn’t hurt me, Oscar.”

“I know that,” he says, his voice softer now, almost a whisper. “But I guess … sometimes I just worry that I might. Without meaning to.”

The air feels thick between you, charged with something unsaid. You chew on your bottom lip, considering his words, the way he’s looking at you now — like he’s seeing you in a new light, or maybe just realizing something that’s been there all along.

“I don’t mind that we’re different sizes,” you say quietly, and your voice is sincere, even if there’s an underlying nervousness. “I actually … I like it.”

Oscar’s eyes flicker with surprise. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nod, your hand still resting on his knee. “I like that you’re taller, and that you can hold me, and that I feel … safe with you.”

Something shifts in Oscar’s expression. It’s subtle, but you see the way his shoulders relax, the tension that’s been building all evening starting to fade away. He reaches out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You feel safe with me?”

“Of course I do,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper now. “You’re … I don’t know. You’re so careful with me. I can feel it when we’re together.”

Oscar’s hand lingers by your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. “I just … I don’t want to screw this up,” he admits, his voice raw. “I care about you too much to mess this up.”

You feel your breath hitch in your throat. “You’re not messing anything up, Oscar. You’re being … you.”

He leans in closer, his forehead almost resting against yours. “I don’t want to be weird about this,” he says softly. “But after Lando’s stupid comment, it’s like … it’s stuck in my head. And now I’m overthinking everything.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “You’re overthinking it because Lando’s an idiot.”

Oscar laughs too, the sound breaking the tension a little. “Yeah, he really is.”

You shift a little closer to him, your knees brushing against his. “You don’t need to worry about our size difference,” you say gently. “I don’t.”

He nods, though there’s still a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. “It’s just … I’ve never been with someone who’s, like … so much smaller than me. I don’t want to … I don’t know, hurt you.”

“You won’t,” you assure him, your voice steady. “I trust you, Oscar. I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t.”

Oscar’s eyes search yours, as if he’s trying to find some reassurance in your words, something to silence the doubts that Lando’s careless joke planted in his mind. Slowly, he leans in, pressing his lips to yours, and for a moment, everything else fades away — the worries, the overthinking, the stupid comments.

It’s just the two of you, and in that kiss, there’s no size difference, no hesitation. Just you and him, connected in a way that feels effortless.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and you can feel his breath, warm and steady. “You’re sure?” He whispers, his voice laced with vulnerability.

You smile, your hand finding his. “I’ve never been more sure.”

Oscar lets out a breath, his lips curling into a soft smile. “Okay,” he murmurs. “Okay.”

The tension between you melts away, replaced by a quiet understanding, a mutual trust that wasn’t spoken but was felt in every word, every touch. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer, as if to prove to himself that he can hold you without worry.

And for the first time since Lando’s stupid joke, Oscar doesn’t think about the size difference. He just thinks about you, and how perfectly you fit in his arms.

***

As you and Oscar walk through the doors of your hotel suite, the adrenaline from the day still buzzes between you both. The aftermath of the Hungarian Grand Prix win feels almost surreal, hanging in the air between his excited glances and your proud smiles.

Oscar drops his race gear bag on the floor, exhaling loudly as he runs a hand through his messy hair. “God, I still can’t believe it. I actually won.”

You grin, closing the door behind you. “I told you, didn’t I? You’ve been ready for this. You’ve always been ready.”

He turns toward you, his face lighting up in a way that makes your heart skip. He looks different tonight — his usual quiet confidence magnified by the thrill of victory. There’s a hunger in his gaze, something deeper than just excitement for the race.

“It feels … different now,” he admits, stepping closer. “Like, I knew I could win, but doing it? Crossing that line first? Hearing the crowd?” He trails off, his eyes locking on yours, and for a moment, everything else in the world disappears.

You step closer, resting your hand on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. “You were incredible out there.”

Oscar’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. His voice drops lower, more intimate. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. After the race, I just wanted to get back here. With you.”

You bite your lip, the tension between you sparking to life. There’s something in the air tonight, something that feels inevitable. The closeness, the energy — it’s all leading somewhere.

Oscar’s lips hover just above yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I need you,” he whispers, the rawness of his voice sending shivers down your spine.

Your response is immediate, instinctual. “Then take me.”

His mouth crashes against yours, urgent and heated, and suddenly, all the restraint he’s ever shown around you evaporates. His hands are everywhere — on your waist, in your hair, pulling you closer as if he can’t stand the space between you. You’re breathless as he backs you up toward the bed, his kisses growing more fervent, more desperate.

When the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, Oscar pulls away just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with something deeper than you’ve seen before. “Are you sure?” He asks, his voice thick with both desire and hesitation. “I don’t want to rush this.”

You’re already reaching for the hem of his shirt, tugging it over his head in one swift motion. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

The sight of his bare chest, muscles taut and glistening under the dim hotel lights, makes your stomach flip. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but tonight it feels different. He’s yours tonight.

Oscar stares at you for a moment, his eyes raking over your body as if trying to memorize every inch of you. “God, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his fingers grazing over your hips, lifting your shirt just enough to slide his hands underneath.

You shiver at the contact, leaning into him as he slowly works your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside. His hands linger on your skin, tracing patterns that leave your skin tingling.

As his fingers move to unbutton your jeans, Oscar hesitates for a second. “I don’t want to … hurt you,” he says softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt.

You shake your head, reaching up to cradle his face in your hands. “You won’t. I trust you.”

That seems to be all the encouragement he needs. Oscar quickly strips you of your jeans, his hands trailing up and down your thighs, his gaze fixed on you like you’re the most important thing in the world. And then, for a moment, he pauses.

His eyes drop lower, and when he sees you in nothing but your underwear, something primal flashes across his face. You can see the shift in him — the boyish uncertainty replaced by something darker, more insistent.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, almost to himself. His hands tremble slightly as he runs them over your hips, then slowly slides your panties down your legs. The sight of you bare, exposed for him, seems to steal his breath.

You reach out, your fingers brushing over the waistband of his jeans. “Your turn,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

Oscar quickly complies, undoing his belt and pushing his jeans down. But when he finally kicks them off, and his boxers follow, you feel your breath catch in your throat. He’s … big. Much bigger than you expected. The sight of him has your heart racing, a mix of nerves and excitement flooding through you.

His size suddenly makes Lando’s stupid joke replay in your head, but instead of fear, you feel a strange sense of anticipation building inside you. The sight of him, hard and ready, only makes you want him more.

But Oscar hesitates, his eyes darting between you and himself, concern flickering in his expression. “I-I don’t want to hurt you,” he says again, his voice more serious now. “You’re so … small.”

Your lips part, a flush creeping up your neck. You swallow hard, trying to keep your composure, but the truth slips out before you can stop it. “I can take it,” you whisper, your voice shaking with need. “I want it.”

Oscar’s eyes widen, and for a moment, he seems at a loss for words. His hands shake slightly as they slide up your thighs, his fingers brushing over the sensitive skin between your legs. He takes his time, his touch slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every second.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he says softly, his eyes locked on yours as he eases a finger inside you. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, your body tensing for a moment before you relax into his touch. “Are you okay?”

You nod quickly, your breaths coming in short, shallow bursts. “I’m okay,” you manage to say, your voice breathless. “Please, Oscar. Don’t stop.”

He doesn’t. He adds another finger, his movements slow and steady as he works you open, his thumb circling your clit with just enough pressure to make you writhe beneath him. Your body arches off the bed, your hands gripping the sheets as you try to hold on to the edge of your sanity.

“You’re so tight,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his brows furrowing in concentration. “I need to make sure you’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” you breathe, though your voice is shaky with both nerves and desire.

Oscar leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as he continues to stretch you with his fingers. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he repeats, his voice a mix of concern and restraint.

You bite your lip, your body trembling with anticipation. “I know. But I want you, Oscar. I want all of you.”

His jaw clenches, and for a moment, he pauses, as if weighing the gravity of what’s about to happen. But then he nods, his eyes locking on yours as he finally positions himself between your legs. His hands grip your hips, his touch firm but gentle.

“Are you sure?” He asks one last time, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” you breathe, your heart pounding in your chest. “Please.”

Oscar takes a deep breath, and then, slowly — agonizingly slowly — he begins to push inside you. The stretch is immediate, and your body tenses as you feel the overwhelming pressure of him filling you. It’s more than you expected — more than you’ve ever felt before. A sharp gasp escapes your lips, and for a moment, you wonder if it’s too much.

Oscar freezes, his eyes wide with concern. “Am I hurting you?”

You shake your head quickly, though your breath is shaky. “It’s just … a lot. But I’m okay. Don’t stop.”

He bites his lip, clearly unsure, but he keeps going, inch by inch, until he’s fully inside you. The sensation is intense — painful at first, but as your body adjusts, the pain quickly morphs into something else. Something deeper. Something euphoric.

Oscar is still, hovering above you, his chest heaving as he struggles to keep himself in check. “God, you’re … you’re so tight,” he whispers, his voice strained. “I can feel … I can see it …”

You look down, and your breath catches in your throat. You can see the outline of him, pressing against your lower stomach, and the sight is enough to send a shiver down your spine.

Oscar’s eyes are glued to the sight as well, his hands gripping your hips tighter. “Holy … I can see myself inside you,” he breathes, his voice thick with awe. “I’m not hurting you?”

You shake your head, your body trembling with a mix of pleasure and disbelief. “No. It feels … it feels incredible.”

He lets out a shaky breath, his eyes darkening as he slowly pulls back, only to push into you again, the movement sending a wave of pleasure through your body. You moan, your hands gripping his shoulders as he begins to move, his thrusts slow and controlled at first, but growing more urgent as the pleasure builds between you.

Oscar’s breath comes in ragged gasps, his eyes never leaving the sight of himself inside you. “You’re so … perfect,” he groans, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t believe you’re real.”

Each thrust sends waves of pleasure through you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. His movements grow more desperate, the tension between you building to an almost unbearable intensity. Your body is on fire, every nerve alight as he fills you completely. You can feel him so deep, every inch of him stretching you in ways you’ve never experienced before.

And then, just as the pressure becomes too much, you tip over the edge.

Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing around him, muscles tightening and pulsing in rhythmic waves. The pleasure is blinding, sharp, your breath hitching as you cry out his name. You’ve never felt anything like it, the intensity of the release leaving you shaking beneath him, your legs trembling as you clutch at his shoulders.

The sudden tightening of your body around him pulls a deep groan from Oscar’s throat, and you feel him lose control. His thrusts falter, becoming erratic as he buries himself inside you one last time. His jaw clenches, his eyes squeezed shut as his own orgasm rips through him. His release is overwhelming — hot and thick, spilling into you with an intensity that leaves you both breathless.

Oscar collapses against you, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he gasps for air. You can feel him still twitching inside you, the last remnants of his orgasm making him shudder against your body. He’s still buried deep, his cock pulsing inside you as he fills you so completely it almost feels unreal.

You’re both silent for a moment, just breathing together, the weight of what just happened settling between you. Then, slowly, Oscar lifts his head, his eyes hazy and dazed as he looks down at you.

“Are you okay?” He whispers, his voice rough, concern flickering in his eyes even as he struggles to catch his breath.

You nod, a breathless laugh escaping your lips. “I’m more than okay.”

His gaze softens, and his hand moves down to your stomach, where you can feel an odd fullness, a strange weight that wasn’t there before. His palm rests over your belly, and when you both look down, you see it — the way your stomach has a slight bulge, rounded out from how much he’s filled you.

Oscar’s eyes widen, his hand pressing down gently as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “I … did I do that?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You bite your lip, heat flooding your cheeks as you nod. “I think so.”

A low groan escapes him, his eyes glued to the sight of your swollen belly. “Jesus … that’s … fuck, that’s so hot,” he mutters, almost to himself, his hand rubbing slow, gentle circles over the small bump.

His obsession with it sends a new wave of heat through you. The feeling of being so full, so utterly claimed by him, is intoxicating. You reach down, covering his hand with yours, pressing it harder against your belly. “You like it?” You ask, teasingly, though you already know the answer.

Oscar’s eyes flash up to yours, dark and filled with something primal. “Are you kidding? I’ve never seen anything like this. I can’t … I can’t stop looking at it.”

He keeps rubbing your belly, his fingers tracing over the slight rise, his gaze fixed on the way your body holds all of him. You shiver beneath his touch, the sensation of his hand against your skin sending jolts of pleasure through you. You can feel him starting to soften inside you, but there’s still a delicious fullness that leaves you squirming, your body craving more despite how completely wrecked you feel.

Oscar seems to notice, his eyes narrowing slightly as his hand trails lower, his fingers brushing against your sensitive clit. You gasp, your body jerking in response, and he smiles softly, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.

“You’re still sensitive,” he murmurs, his thumb circling your bundle of nerves with gentle pressure. “I can feel it.”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a moan as he continues to tease you, his movements slow and deliberate. “Oscar …” you breathe, your voice trembling. “I don’t think I can …”

But you can. The tension in your body builds again so quickly, it’s almost dizzying. His touch is relentless, his thumb rubbing slow, firm circles that drive you insane. The combination of the fullness in your belly and the stimulation at your core is overwhelming, your body teetering on the edge of another orgasm before you can even process it.

“I can feel how tight you still are,” Oscar whispers, his voice husky as he watches you squirm beneath him. “God, you’re so perfect.”

His words, his touch, the sight of him above you — it’s all too much. Your body arches off the bed, a sharp cry escaping your lips as you fall over the edge again, your second orgasm hitting you harder than the first. The pleasure is intense, bordering on painful as your muscles contract around him, your body shaking with the force of it.

Oscar groans, his hand still rubbing slow circles over your belly as he watches you come undone beneath him. “That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe. “You’re so beautiful like this.”

You gasp for air, your body trembling as the waves of pleasure slowly subside, leaving you feeling utterly spent. Oscar finally stops his teasing, his hand still resting on your belly as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Are you okay?” He asks again, his voice gentle, almost tender.

You nod, a lazy smile spreading across your face. “Yeah … more than okay.”

He chuckles softly, shifting his weight to lie beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you close. His hand remains on your belly, though, still fascinated by the slight swell he’s caused.

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your temple.

You turn to face him, your fingers tracing lazy patterns over his chest. “I’m the lucky one,” you whisper back, your heart swelling with affection for him.

For a while, you both just lie there, wrapped up in each other, the weight of what just happened settling in. There’s no rush, no urgency — just the quiet intimacy of being together after something so intense.

Oscar’s hand continues to rub slow, soothing circles over your belly, and you feel yourself slowly drifting toward sleep, your body completely relaxed and satisfied. Just before you drift off, you hear Oscar’s soft voice in your ear, filled with quiet wonder.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over how perfectly you fit me.”

And in that moment, you know that nothing has ever felt more right.

***

The morning light filters through the curtains, casting soft rays of sunlight across the hotel room. You stir in the bed, blinking your eyes open, the haze of sleep still thick in your mind. As you stretch, your entire body reminds you of the events from the night before. Every muscle feels heavy, a delicious soreness radiating from deep within you. You smile to yourself, the memory of Oscar’s hands on your body, his whispers in your ear, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

Your bladder protests, urging you out of bed, but as soon as you shift to swing your legs over the side of the bed, a sharp jolt of soreness runs up your thighs. You pause, blinking in confusion, then try again — more gingerly this time. Your legs are stiff, the muscles weak and uncooperative as you push yourself to stand.

You barely make it two steps before your legs give out beneath you.

The floor rushes up to meet you, and with a soft thud, you crumple into a heap on the carpet. A surprised gasp escapes your lips, and before you can process what’s happened, Oscar is jolting awake beside you.

“Shit — what was that?” He mumbles groggily, but the second he sees you on the floor, his eyes go wide, panic flashing across his face. “Oh my God, are you okay?”

He’s out of bed in an instant, rushing to your side, his hands gripping your shoulders as he kneels next to you. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

You can’t help but laugh softly, though your body feels like it’s been through a marathon. “I’m fine, I just …” You bite your lip, wincing as you try to shift. “I guess my legs don’t really work right now.”

Oscar’s brows furrow in concern, and he gently lifts you, pulling you into his arms and carrying you back to the bed like you weigh nothing. “What do you mean your legs don’t work?” His voice is tight, laced with worry, and he lays you down carefully, as if he’s afraid you’ll break.

You groan softly as you sink back into the mattress, your legs still trembling from the effort. “I’m just … really sore. Like, everywhere.”

Oscar’s face pales, and you can see the guilt washing over him in an instant. “Oh my God, I hurt you, didn’t I?” His voice is barely a whisper, his hands hovering over you as if he’s afraid to touch you again. “I knew I was too rough. I knew I was too big. I’m so sorry, I-”

“Hey, no,” you interrupt, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. “It’s not like that. I’m just sore from … you know.” You feel a flush creeping up your neck, but you manage a small smile. “It’s a good kind of sore.”

Oscar shakes his head, his jaw clenched tight. “No, no, this isn’t okay. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. I should’ve been more careful.”

You let out a soft laugh, though it’s strained as you shift slightly in bed. “Oscar, I’m fine. Really. I feel amazing, actually. This is just … the aftermath.” You wiggle your toes experimentally, and while the soreness is still there, it’s more of a reminder of the pleasure you felt last night than actual pain.

Oscar isn’t convinced. He sits on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. “You couldn’t even walk this morning because of me,” he mutters, his voice low and filled with guilt. “I don’t ever want to hurt you.”

The tenderness in his voice makes your heart ache, and you sit up slowly, reaching out to touch his arm. “Oscar, you didn’t hurt me,” you say softly. “You made me feel incredible. Yes, I’m sore, but it’s because of how good it was. Not because you did anything wrong.”

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with uncertainty. “Are you sure? I mean, you literally fell out of bed.”

You bite your lip, holding back a grin. “Yeah, well … maybe that’s just proof of how well you did.”

A flicker of amusement crosses his face, but the worry still lingers. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

You shake your head, your hand moving to rest on his thigh. “No. I’m saying it because it’s true. I’ve never felt like that before, Oscar. You didn’t hurt me — you made me feel alive.”

His expression softens at your words, but you can still see the guilt etched in the lines of his face. He exhales slowly, his hand covering yours on his thigh. “I just … I don’t want to ever do something that makes you feel like you can’t even move the next day.”

“Well,” you say, biting your lip playfully, “if it’s the kind of thing that leaves me this sore, I think I could get used to it.” You wink at him, trying to lighten the mood, but Oscar’s eyes widen, and he groans.

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

You laugh softly, wincing at the tightness in your hips as you shift again. “I mean, there are worse ways to be sore. Besides, this is kind of your fault. You can make it up to me.”

Oscar’s brows furrow in confusion. “How?”

You give him a mischievous look. “By doing it all over again and making sure I can never walk properly again.”

He blinks at you, momentarily stunned. “You’re joking, right?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

Oscar stares at you for a moment, his mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to find the right words. “I — but … you’re already sore.”

You lean back against the pillows, a satisfied smirk playing on your lips. “Exactly. So you might as well make it count.”

For a second, he’s speechless. Then, his lips twitch, and a slow smile spreads across his face. “You’re serious?”

You nod, biting your lip to hide your grin. “Very.”

He laughs, the sound low and warm, and you can see the tension start to melt away from his shoulders. “You’re unbelievable.”

You shrug, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “I have a high pain tolerance. Besides, I think I deserve a little reward after surviving last night, don’t you?”

Oscar’s smile fades slightly, and he looks at you with a mix of affection and disbelief. “You’re really okay?”

You nod, your hand squeezing his thigh again. “More than okay, Oscar. I’m serious — I want you again. Even if it leaves me sore for a week.”

His expression softens, and he leans down, brushing a gentle kiss against your forehead. “You’re something else, you know that?”

You grin up at him. “I try.”

Oscar’s hand trails down your side, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin as if testing how much you can handle. “I don’t want to push you too hard,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over your temple.

“You’re not pushing me,” you whisper, your heart pounding in your chest. “I want this.”

He hesitates for a moment, then nods, his hand moving lower, tracing over your stomach and down between your legs. The touch is featherlight, testing, but even that small contact sends a shiver through your body.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Oscar says, his voice low and serious, but you can already feel the heat building between you again, and the soreness fades into the background of your mind, overwhelmed by the need rising in you.

“I will,” you breathe, already arching into his touch.

Oscar’s lips find yours, soft at first, but quickly growing more urgent as the tension between you sparks back to life. His hand slides lower, teasing you with slow, deliberate strokes, and you can feel yourself growing wet again, your body responding to him despite the lingering ache.

He pulls back, his eyes searching yours. “You really want to do this again?”

You nod, breathless. “I need you.”

That’s all it takes for Oscar to give in. He shifts above you, his body pressing against yours as he positions himself between your legs. The weight of him is comforting, familiar, and despite the soreness, you crave the feeling of him filling you again.

Oscar moves slowly, carefully, but the stretch is just as intense as last night. You gasp as he pushes inside, your body still adjusting to the sheer size of him, but it’s not painful this time — just overwhelming in the best way.

“Oh my God,” Oscar groans, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he pushes deeper. “You’re still so tight.”

You can only moan in response, your body trembling as he moves inside you, the pleasure building quickly despite the soreness in your muscles. The mix of discomfort and ecstasy is intoxicating, and soon, you’re lost in the rhythm of his thrusts, your mind blank except for the sensation of him filling you completely.

Oscar’s hands grip your hips, his movements growing more urgent as he finds his rhythm. You can tell he’s holding back, trying not to hurt you, but even with the restraint, the intensity of it all has you teetering on the edge again.

“You’re so perfect,” Oscar murmurs against your skin, his breath hot on your neck. “I can’t get enough of you.”

You shudder beneath him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you feel yourself nearing the edge once again. “Don’t stop,” you gasp, your body arching into his as the pleasure coils tight inside you, threatening to snap.

Oscar groans in response, his pace picking up, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, until you're barely holding on. You can feel the intensity building between you, the friction, the connection driving you closer to the edge. His hands grip your hips tighter, his breath hot against your neck as he murmurs, “God, you feel so good. I could do this forever.”

The words send a thrill through you, and you grip him harder, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Oscar,” you breathe, your voice trembling as the pressure inside you mounts, overwhelming, unstoppable.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes locking with yours as he drives into you again, deeper than before. “Come for me,” he whispers, his voice husky with desire. “I want to feel you.”

That’s all it takes. His words send you spiraling, your body clenching around him as your orgasm crashes over you in waves. You cry out, your legs trembling, your hands gripping him as tight as you can, pulling him closer as your entire body shakes with the force of your release.

Oscar groans as your body tightens around him, his control slipping as he watches you fall apart beneath him. His rhythm falters, then he pushes deep one last time, his release hitting with a shudder as he spills inside you. His breath is ragged, his body trembling as he holds himself over you, the weight of his body grounding you as the aftershocks of your orgasm pulse through you.

For a moment, there’s only the sound of your breathing, your bodies tangled together in the aftermath. Oscar collapses against you, his head resting on your chest as he tries to catch his breath. You run your fingers through his hair, a soft, satisfied smile on your lips as the warmth of his body soothes your soreness.

After a long silence, he finally speaks, his voice soft and a little shaky. “You … okay?”

You laugh softly, your body feeling like it’s been thoroughly worked over, but in the best way possible. “Yeah,” you whisper, brushing his hair back. “More than okay.”

He lifts his head to look at you, his eyes filled with affection but also a hint of lingering concern. “I didn’t hurt you?”

You shake your head, smiling up at him. “No, you didn’t hurt me. You were perfect.”

He relaxes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Good,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Because I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

You hum in contentment, your body still buzzing from the intensity of it all. “Just make sure I can walk by tomorrow, okay?”

Oscar chuckles, his hand trailing down to your hip as he pulls you close. “No promises.”

***

Oscar steps out of the car first, scanning the airstrip where McLaren’s private jet waits. His brow furrows slightly, a flicker of concern in his eyes. The morning sun is harsh, casting long shadows on the tarmac, but his focus is entirely on you. He turns back, opening the car door carefully, like he’s preparing for something delicate.

You wince as you try to swing your legs out of the car. The soreness from last night has reached a whole new level, and every movement feels like your muscles are made of lead. You’d tried standing when you first woke up, but it was a no-go. Now, as you attempt to shift out of the car, it’s confirmed: you really can’t walk.

Oscar leans down, his hands gently coming to rest on your hips. “Ready?” His voice is soft, a little sheepish, like he’s still not over the guilt from earlier.

“Do I have a choice?” You joke, though your body aches in a way that’s both painful and satisfying, a reminder of last night’s passion.

He gives you a small smile, his eyes soft as he reaches under your knees and lifts you effortlessly into his arms, bridal style. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, leaning into his chest as he straightens up.

“Okay, this is officially ridiculous,” you mutter, burying your face in his shoulder, half-embarrassed, half-amused.

Oscar chuckles, holding you close. “You’re the one who said you wanted to make sure you couldn’t walk properly again.”

You lift your head slightly, meeting his gaze. “I didn’t think you’d take it so literally.”

He grins, but you can see the hint of worry still lingering in his eyes. “Too late now. Besides, I think I might enjoy this.”

“You enjoy having to carry me across an airstrip in front of your entire team?” You raise an eyebrow, trying to keep your tone light, though you know it’s about to get a lot more embarrassing once people start noticing.

Oscar shrugs, shifting you slightly in his arms as he starts walking toward the jet. “I enjoy taking care of you.”

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his words, your earlier embarrassment fading. He’s so earnest, so gentle, even now, and it’s hard to feel anything but safe in his arms.

As you near the jet, you can already see the crew milling around, loading luggage and prepping for departure. And, of course, Lando is leaning casually against the stairs leading up to the plane, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as soon as he spots the two of you.

“Well, well, well,” Lando calls out, his voice full of teasing glee. “What do we have here? Oscar playing the hero?”

You groan softly, burying your face in Oscar’s shoulder again. “Please no,” you mutter under your breath.

Oscar doesn’t slow down as he approaches, though you can feel his body tense slightly. He’s protective, even if he’s trying to laugh it off. “Don’t start, Lando,” he warns, though there’s a playful edge to his voice.

But Lando’s never been one to back off, especially when there’s an opportunity to tease his teammate. He pushes off the stairs and stands directly in front of you two, hands on his hips. “What, did she trip or something? Or is this …” He pauses dramatically, raising an eyebrow. “Is this because of Sunday night?”

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks immediately. You’ve had your fair share of teasing from Lando before, but this — this is next-level mortifying. Oscar adjusts his hold on you slightly, and you can feel the subtle tightening of his grip, like he’s shielding you from whatever’s coming.

“Lando,” Oscar says, his tone warning, but not harsh. “Seriously.”

But Lando’s not done. His eyes dart between you and Oscar, and his grin widens. “Wait — wait. Hold on. Is she not able to walk?”

You don’t say anything, but your silence must be enough because Lando’s grin fades, replaced by a look of genuine shock. “Oh my God. You’re actually serious.”

Oscar’s jaw tightens, and he shifts you in his arms again, turning slightly like he’s ready to move past Lando and end this conversation. But Lando steps closer, his playful demeanor slipping into something more serious as he realizes the situation is … real.

“Mate,” Lando says, his voice lower now, almost incredulous. “Did you … I mean, you didn’t-”

“No,” Oscar cuts him off quickly, his voice firm but not defensive. “I didn’t hurt her.”

You peek out from Oscar’s shoulder, meeting Lando’s wide-eyed gaze. “I’m fine,” you add, trying to inject some normalcy back into the situation. “It’s just … you know.”

Lando’s brows shoot up. “I really don’t know.”

You laugh softly despite yourself. “Well, I’m not hurt. Just … sore.”

Lando’s mouth opens and closes as if he’s trying to find the right words, but for once, he’s speechless. He glances between you and Oscar, and then shakes his head, half in disbelief, half in amusement.

“I mean, I’ve heard of being ‘swept off your feet,’ but this …” Lando trails off, his eyes flicking down to your legs, which you’re certain look completely useless at this point. “This is next level.”

Oscar rolls his eyes, though there’s a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You done?”

Lando lifts his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m not judging. I’m just saying — next time, maybe leave her able to walk? Just a suggestion.”

You groan, leaning your forehead against Oscar’s shoulder again. “Please make him stop.”

Oscar chuckles, squeezing you gently. “Lando, I swear, if you don’t move, I’m going to drop her on you.”

Lando steps aside, holding his hands up. “Alright, alright. I’ll be good. But seriously,” he adds, glancing at you with a smirk. “You two should probably invest in some crutches.”

You shoot him a withering look, but there’s no malice behind it. “You’re not funny.”

“I disagree,” Lando grins. “I’m hilarious.”

Oscar shakes his head, moving past Lando and toward the stairs. As he climbs up, still carrying you effortlessly, you whisper, “I’m never living this down, am I?”

Oscar leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Probably not.”

By the time he settles you down in one of the plush seats on the jet, the soreness in your legs has turned into a dull throb. You sink into the cushions with a relieved sigh, stretching out as much as you can without wincing. Oscar sits beside you, his hand immediately resting on your thigh, a silent check-in.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asks again, his brow still slightly furrowed.

“I promise,” you say, reaching for his hand. “I mean, yes, I probably won’t be running any marathons anytime soon, but it’s worth it.”

Oscar gives you a lopsided smile, but the concern doesn’t fully leave his eyes. “I didn’t think I’d actually-”

You cut him off, squeezing his hand. “Oscar, stop. You didn’t do anything wrong. If anything, I’m the one who asked for it.”

His cheeks flush slightly, and he rubs the back of his neck. “Still.”

You lean closer, brushing your lips against his. “It was perfect,” you murmur softly. “You’re perfect.”

He exhales, some of the tension finally leaving his body as he leans into your kiss. “If you say so.”

“I do,” you whisper against his lips, then lean back with a grin. “Now, how are you going to carry me once we land?”

Oscar laughs, a sound that’s light and warm. “I’ll figure it out.”

From across the aisle, Lando chimes in, “Just get a wheelchair. Might be worth the investment if this is going to be a common occurrence.”

You throw a pillow at him. “Shut up, Lando.”

But deep down, despite the teasing and the soreness, you wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.

[absurdthirst]

Halloween Cowboy {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: Idiots in love, crushing, putting your foot in your mouth, embarrassment, flirtation, Younger Joel, drinking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex

Comments: Tommy and his girlfriend, your best friend, manage to get you and your sexy neighbor Joel at the same Halloween party.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Cmon man. You gotta come. Lindsey wants to meet you and I can’t keep makin’ up excuses for my big brother not wanting to meet my girl.” Tommy whines while he stands over Joel who is trying to read the plans for the bathroom redo.

“Tommy. I’m tryin’ - Jesus. Is it really that damn important?” He asks his brother after taking his glasses off of his nose.

“Yeah. Sarah is going to sleep over at her friend Tori’s house, right? You’ll be sitting on your own with the curtains closed to ward off trick or treaters while watching Dawn of the Dead for the hundredth time…you ain’t busy.” Tommy calls Joel out who signs and sets his glasses down on the table.

“Fine. Fine. If it’s that damn important I’ll go but, shit. I don’t have a costume.” He confesses and Tommy smirks, “that’s easy. You’re already wearing it.” He eyes the construction belt and hard hat and Joel scoffs but takes a second, “I got a cowboy hat. And boots.” He decides and Tommy snorts, “rodeo Joel is making an appearance. Haven’t seen that since high school when you were trying to impress Katie.” Joel huffs, trying to not snap at his brother at mentioning his ex wife whose parents owned a ranch.

“Sorry.” Tommy murmurs and Joel shrugs, “I’ll be there.” He promises, picking up his glasses again and Tommy grins, not mentioning the best part until he’s about to walk away. “Oh and your pretty neighbor will be there. Lindsey invited her.”

****

“Why do I have to go again?” You whine to Lindsey even as you are mixing together the cream cheese with the salsa to make roll ups. It’s one of your best appetizers to throw together quickly and are always a hit. She snorts and rolls her eyes at you. “You need to get out and socialize. You need to have some fun since you broke up with dickhead.” She had never hidden the fact that she thought your ex wasn’t good enough for you. Only now would you admit that she’s right, but you still huff at her. “What am I supposed to do? Pick up someone from your party and take them home?”

“Or you could use my guest room?” She waggles her eyebrows, “and I do believe the man you’ll be riding in there will be called Joel.” She smirks and you nearly choke, “no. No. I don’t - he doesn’t -” Lindsey giggles, “Tommy said the man watches your every damn move from his porch. Watches your ass when you walk past. Trust me, honey. The man wants you. He’s just got issues from his ex leaving.” She explains, knowing Tommy has briefly told her about what happened with Katie. “You don’t need to be his therapist to get some.” She says and nudges you.

****

Joel huffs as he looks at himself in the mirror. The checkered shirt is buttoned up unlike its usual openness when he has a t-shirt underneath. The large belt buckle his dad got him as a present was dug out from the back of his underwear drawer, and the boots are comfortable, worn in thankfully from regular use. The hat is on the side and he grabs it, putting it on his head to see how it looks. He looks like teenage Joel and that scares him. How eager he was to impress a girl. Too eager in fact that she left the first moment she could, leaving him with a two month old when he was twenty years old. “Shit.” He sighs, rubbing his jaw, knowing he will see you. He knows he’s jaded, he’s a single dad with issues and he knows you’d never want him. He’s too complicated. With a huff, he grabs the lasso he got from Tommy as a joke a few years ago and leaves his house to go to the party.

“I think real cuffs would have been better.” You huff to yourself, hating how the ties on these Wonder Woman wrist cuffs keep coming loose. The party hasn’t even started yet and you want to just go home. Not that Lindsey would let you. “Tie this for me.” You demand, holding your wrist out. “If I’m going to be Wonder Woman, I need to be a put together, sexy version of her.”

Joel isn't early. He doesn't like to be early to parties since he can't disappear into a crowd and leave early. He sighs after he parks his truck down the street, his boots clicking as he walks up the driveway until he is opening the door. The party is already underway and he squeezes past people drinking and making out and talking to try and find Tommy.

“Coming through, coming through!” You yank the platter of appetizers higher, needing to get over to the table and refill them although people won’t seem to get out of your way. The party is bigger than what Lindsey had told you it would be and she’s already glued to Tommy’s side, leaving you to kind of run things. Someone comes up to your right, just out of your vision as  you veer off to avoid a couple who are groping each other. “Shit!” You hiss, bumping into someone and having to spin around to keep the tray from hitting the ground and ruining the snacks. 

“Woah. Shit.” Joel hisses and barely catches the tray as you spin around and grab the other side. His eyes widen when he sees you, dressed like Wonder Woman with eyes wide and beautiful. “Hey.” He murmurs, keeping his grip on the tray and you offer him a gorgeous smile, “hey neighbor.” Someone knocks into him and he steadies the tray. “Let me help. Tell me where you want this and I’ll make sure no one knocks this over.” He promises, keeping his grip tight.

“Hey.” You smile breathlessly, a little shocked and release the tray to him because of that. “Um, yeah, uh, right over there.” You point to the table in the corner and try to figure out if you need to hide in embarrassment or get the man a drink for helping you out. He looks fucking delicious and Lindsey’s comments about riding him are fucking perfect considering Joel Miller is out here dressed up like a fucking cowboy. Your panties are going to be ruined tonight, thinking about him. 

Joel wrestles with the crowd to set the tray down and he turns to see you’ve followed him. “Who the hell did Tommy and Lindsey invite? The whole damn town?” He almost has to shout to compete with the chatter and the music. “Seems like it. I only made enough food for a small gathering.” You confess and Joel turns to look at the tray, “you did all that?” He asks and you nod, biting your lip. “Goddamn. You’re like Martha Stewart. But hot.” He adds until he flusters and reaches up to adjust his hat. “Uh, I mean, you look good. As Wonder Woman. I had this massive crush on Linda Carter when I was a kid and uh, yeah. You look good.” He repeats, silently cursing himself for being so lame as Sarah would say.

You want to laugh at the way Joel looks ready to punch himself in the face for being stupid, but you like seeing him like this. “Thanks.” You reach out and touch his arm. “You look really hot too. You’re going to be beating them off with a stick dressed like this, Miller.” You predict, knowing you would be the first in line if you had half a chance at him. “We’ll be dreaming of cowboy lullabies tonight.” 

Joel blushes, grateful for the cowboy hat to hide it, and he gets a sudden boost of confidence. “Yeah? You think I’d have a chance with someone at the party? Even though I got more baggage than Bush Airport?” He jokes and you scoff, “everyone has baggage.” He nods, staring at you for a moment and he opens his mouth to ask if you want to find somewhere quieter to talk but a hand slaps his shoulder and he turns to see his brother. “You made it! And dressed up!” Tommy exclaims, clearly a little drunk and his arm wrapped around a beautiful woman. “This is Lindsey. Baby, this is the mysterious big brother I’ve been telling you about.” Lindsey grins and holds her hand out, “it’s great to finally meet you, Joel. Tommy can’t shut up about you.” She teases before she says your name, “and she’s always talking about her sexy neighbor. You’re the talk of the town.” Lindsey teases and Joel’s eyes widen slightly as he looks towards you.

“Lindsey.” You groan your friend’s name, face heating up and you want the earth to open and swallow you whole. “I think you might need to drink some water.” You huff, snatching her cup out of her hand and quickly drinking it down yourself. Hoping that Joel doesn’t think that you are some kind of creepy stalker or some shit. 

Lindsey’s words make his stomach twist and Tommy smirks at him, knowing about his crush on his neighbor, and he squeezes Lindsey’s hand until she lets go and turns to look at Tommy. “Come on baby. Let’s get you another drink. Enjoy the party. See you in a bit. Mingle.” Tommy urges his older brother who has the habit of hiding in the corner. “Sure.” Joel nods and watches Tommy take Lindsey to the kitchen. “I need a drink.” Joel mutters to himself before he looks at you, “you know where the booze is?”

“Yeah,” Despite being embarrassed, you won’t let him go without a drink. “It’s out here.” You point to the patio door. “We’ve got a small pony keg if you want beer and then there’s tequila.” You huff out a laugh. “That’s what I plan on drinking.” You joke as you open the door. “Listen- uh, about what she said? I just- I don’t want you to think that I’m watching you all the time or something.” 

Joel looks at you as he follows you to the drinks table. He was shocked to hear you watch him and you being flustered makes his heart thump. “I’m watching you.” He confesses, “not in a creepy way but - but yeah. I like watching you.” He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly burning up in the flannel shirt.

You freeze for a second as you reach for a cup, relieved and slightly surprised to find out that Tommy and Lindsey were right. Now that you both have admitted embarrassing things, you laugh and shake your head. “I think we are way too sober right now.” You tease and waggle a cup at him. “What’ll you have before we discuss further?”

“Anything with alcohol.” He teases and picks up his own cup, filling it with cheap whiskey and topping it off with some Coke. “Happy Halloween.” He grins and hits your cup with his. “Happy Halloween, neighbor.” You smirk and he takes a sip of his drink, sighing at the sting of the whiskey.

You ask where Sarah is and listen while Joel explains about the sleepover, but you are really admiring the way he fills out that flannel shirt. It’s cut perfectly and makes his broad frame look even broader. You know the man is strong because you’ve seen the tools and materials he has to carry. “So why a cowboy and not a sexy construction worker?” You ask, grinning as the burn of the alcohol starts to fade and the heat runs through your veins.

“That seemed too obvious. Isn’t halloween about pretending to be something you’re not? Tonight, I’m not a single father construction worker. Tonight, I’m a cowboy looking for a hero.” He smirks as he flexes his fingers around the red solo cup.

It takes you a second to realize he’s referring to your wonder woman costume and you grin. “Not all heroes wear capes, Miller.” You remind him playfully and toss back the rest of your drink so you can pour both of you another. “I think you also underestimate how sexy single father construction workers are.” You huff. “But I like the idea of taking a cowboy for a ride.” 

Joel can’t believe how smooth he is being when usually he’s fumbling over his words with you. Maybe the costume has helped him regain some confidence after years of focusing on Sarah and not his love life. “Save a horse, ride a construction worker.” He winks and you giggle, making his heart clench. His eyes drag down your body when you turn and bend over to grab another bottle of tequila from under the drinks table and his cock twitches in his jeans.

You open the new bottle and pour you both a large drink. You don’t want to hang out by the booze all night, although it’s been pretty quiet right now. Soon enough there will be people charging out here to refill their own cups. “So are you ready to let your hair down?” You ask. 

Joel snorts, “I don’t think I’ve ever done that. Well, not since Sarah was born.” He confesses, glancing around at the sofa and he jerks his chin, “you wanna sit down?” He asks, his back starting to ache from the long work day and he’s anxious to get closer to you.

“Sure.” You point to the back yard. “Want to sit out there, or go upstairs?” You ask. “We can’t sit down in the living room with all those bodies in there.” It’s a subtle way to get him upstairs if you think that this could actually go somewhere, which it is looking like it might. 

“Let’s go upstairs. I’m too fucking old for this music.” He confesses with a chuckle and you nod, taking his hand to escort him upstairs. You’ve been to Tommy’s house a few times with Lindsey to get ready for nights out. Joel hopes his hand isn’t sweaty in yours and he lets you guide him away from the crowd to the quiet guest room. The bass from the music thumps below his feet as he sits down on the edge of the bed.

“You know you are a good dad, right?” You ask, wondering if he knows just how sexy him being a very involved dad is to you. “You care about Sarah, you listen to her.” You smirk. “Even if you don’t always know what you are doing.” 

He snorts, looking down at the drink in his hand, “I definitely don’t always know what I’m doing. I could handle Barbie dolls and hair bobbles but periods? Boys? It’s a little out of my league.” He admits, turning to look at you as you sit down beside him. You’re so beautiful, so understanding. You deserve way better than someone like him yet here you are. “Thanks for saying that though. She likes you. Loves your style and watching those stupid MTV shows with you.”

“She’s a good kid. Because of you.” You smile softly. “And you didn’t even use her to get laid.” You tease. “Do you know that women love a good dad? Our panties drop quick for a man who loves his children.”

Joel raises his eyebrows, “really?” He asks and you nod, giggling in a way that makes his cock twitch, already half hard in his jeans. You smile and he can’t help but lean in closer to you. “You gonna drop your panties for me, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice dropping lower for you.

“Fuck, that sounded so hot.” You whimper, biting your lip as your eyes slide down to his. You want to kiss him, but you aren’t brave enough yet. “I can’t.” You admit. “I’m not wearing any tonight.” You take his cup and yours and set it down on the nightstand as you talk. 

“Shit.” Joel hisses, his eyes widening slightly and he can’t stop himself even if he tried. He surges forward to press his lips to yours. His hat pushed back on his head as he cups your cheek and he pulls back after a second when you don’t respond and he frowns, wondering if he misread this.

You are frozen. Shocked that Joel, your sexy neighbor, is kissing you. When he pulls back, you see him frown, reaching out and cupping his face so you can lean in to kiss him yourself.

He quickly recovers and melts into the kiss, his hand cupping your neck to pull you closer and he gains confidence, sliding his tongue along your lower lip, pushing into your mouth when you grant him access.

Your breath catches and you groan into his mouth. Still in disbelief that Joel is kissing you. Hes a good kisser. His tongue slides along your, tangles with it and encourages you to kiss him back. Your stomach twists in knots and you lean into the kiss more, malting into him.

He loves the way you kiss him back just as eagerly and he slides his hand along your thigh, groaning at the feel of your skin under his palm. You’re so soft and he loves it. He’s imagined it more times than he’d care to admit.

You hadn’t worn any tights with your outfit. Not wanting to feel trapped or have another layer to take off another layer when you’ve been drinking. His hands on your skin feels amazing and you shift, moving to straddle him and you giggle into his mouth.

He groans when you straddle him, his hands immediately finding your ass to squeeze the flesh. So many times he’s imagined your ass when you’ve been outside in your shorts or leggings and now he gets to touch you. “Fuck.” He pants into your mouth, his cock hardening underneath you.

“We will get to that.” You promise, pulling away to press your lips to his jaw. Always wanting to kiss his neck for forever. It’s so kissable. “Imagined it so many times.”

Joel groans, tilting his head, and he slides his hand up to squeeze your breast. “Me too. So many damn times. Imagined you under me, over me. Being inside you. Jerked off enough damn times.” He reveals as you grind down onto him.

You moan softly, imagining him with his cock in his hand, panting your name. “I want to see that sometime.” You admit breathlessly. “Watch you jerk off.”

"Fuck. One day." He promises, grabbing your ass to lift you so he can spin and lay you down on the bed. "Look goddamn sexy in your costume." He groans, caressing your calf. "Tell me what you want, baby." He demands, reaching for the zipper of your boot.

“Want to ride you.” You decide. “Keep your cowboy hat and boots on.” You smirk and wink. “Want to see if you live up to the expectations I’ve built up seeing you wear that costume.”

He smirks, “I hope I can. It’s been a while.” He confesses as he reaches up to start unbuttoning his shirt, exposing his chest to your hungry gaze.

You reach up and caress his chest. “That doesn’t matter.” You promise. “I just want to feel you inside me.” He peels your boots off and reaches for your bottom. “I’m going to strip you down.” He promises and you nod. “Do it.”

He peels the costume from your body, his cock aching in his jeans at each inch that’s exposed to his hungry gaze, and he has to reach down to undo the buckle, opening his pants to allow himself some relief from the hard press of the zipper. “Shit. You’re gorgeous.” He murmurs, caressing your stomach until he’s reaching for the hem of the top, dragging it from your body to expose your tits. “Goddamn beautiful.” He murmurs when he tosses the top aside and dives down to take your nipple into his mouth as he kneels on the bed.

Your cry is loud but you know that no one in the party can hear you. The music is still thumping and you can hear the chattering. Not that you care, all you care about is him. His mouth feels so good on your nipple it hurts, making you whine when he flicks his tongue over it after biting down. “Joel.” You pant, tangling your fingers into his hair.

He loves hearing your moan and he bites down on the bud, lapping at it with his tongue, before he switches to the other one. His thumb and forefinger pinching your hardened nipple that’s slick with his spit.

You’ve never had someone spend so much time on your tits. Not without being inside you. You enjoy the attention, every pull of his mouth and pinch of your nipple makes your cunt throb around nothing and you are positively dripping.

His free hand slides up your inner thigh, caressing the skin there and he slides his touch higher so he can slide his fingers through your folds. “Fuck. You’re so wet.” He murmurs against your breast.

“So turned on.” You confess. You moan his name again when he continues to slowly stroke through your folds, fingers brushing against your clit. “Fuck baby.”

He groans, “me too. So fucking hard right now.” He confesses as he presses his fingers against your clit, wanting to hear you moan for him again.

You groan, reaching down and cupping him through his jeans. “Fuck.” You gasp, knowing that he will stretch you out when you feel how thick he is. “So hard.”

“Shit.” He hisses when you squeeze him and he slides his hand lower so he can push two thick digits into your weeping cunt, wanting to hear you gasp again. “Take me out.” He pleads, kissing your jaw, “need to feel your hand around him.”

You fumble with his zipper blindly, eager to feel the heft in your hand, to feel how soft and hard he is. Joel pulls his hips back to give you more room and you both groan in unison when he comes free from his underwear and lands into your palm.

He groans when you finally grip him in your soft palm, loving the way you squeeze him, and he’s so hard. He’s aching for you and his fingers work in and out of you, desperate to hear you cry out his name.

Your eyes slide closed, twisting your wrist to pump his cock as much as you can while his fingers destroy you. They are just as thick and wonderful as you imagined. Rough, his hands are calloused and imperfect from the manual labor of his job, scrubbing perfectly inside your walls to make you choke out his name every time he curls them deep.

Your choked version of his name has him groaning yours as you try to pump his cock in your soft hand. He twists his wrist, pressing his thumb to your clit to hear the sweet cry of your orgasm. He desperately wants it. His lips find yours again and he slides his tongue into your mouth, wanting to devour you.

Your hips roll up, eager to have him push his fingers deep every time he pulls them back. You feel that lovely tension curling in your stomach and you want more, crave it. He is just as overwhelming as you had imagined. Completely taking control and showing a confidence that is undeniably sexy.

Your walls flutter and clamp down on his fingers, making him grin against your chin, and he desperately wants you to fall apart for him. “Cum for me, baby.” He murmurs, nipping your jaw as he curls his fingers and presses his thumb against your clit.

It takes a few more pumps of his fingers before you are flying. Your walls lock down around his fingers and soak him with a wave of hot liquid juice that just continues to come in wave after wave while he continues to curl his fingers deep. Crying out his name loudly, nearly a sob and you shake under him.

“Holy fuck.” He groans when you grip his fingers in your walls and he loves how hot and wet you get. He can’t wait to feel that around his cock. “That’s it, baby. Such a good girl for me.” He murmurs, kissing along your neck as he works you through it.

You whimper, knowing that he could call you a good girl for the rest of your life and it would still make your stomach curl in pleasure. Your legs feel like jello when he finally pulls his fingers free and kisses your lips. “Fuck, Miller.” You pant. “Get on your back.”

He grunts as he shifts to lay against the pillows, pupils blown wide as he watches you while you shift to your wobbly knees. "So fucking gorgeous." He murmurs, his gaze dropping to your tits and he can't help reaching down to squeeze his hard cock.

You bite your lip when your thighs are straddling him, immediately moving and grinding down on his cock as soon as he moves his hand. Grinning when he moans your name and swivel your hips again. “Put your hat back on, cowboy.” You tease, leaning down and kissing him passionately.

He fumbles blindly to grab his hat from the nightstand and he puts it on while his tongue tangles with yours while you grind down onto him. “Shit. Co-condom?” He rasps, knowing it’s been forever and a day since he’s had sex but he wants you to be comfortable.

“Fuck.” You don’t have one, but you think you will cry if you have to stop right now. “I don’t- I’m clean.” You mumble against his lips, pulling back to look into his eyes. “I’m on birth control.”

“I’m clean and I - I trust you.” He promises, knowing he shouldn’t take the chance after Katie left him high and dry but he’s aching and he knows you wouldn’t lie to him. “Take what you want, baby.” He demands, his hands finding your ass to squeeze before he playfully slaps your cheeks, “ride a cowboy.”

You moan, reaching down and wrapping your fingers around his cock as you lift up to move him into position. “Gonna ride you ‘til you pass out.” You tease, winking at him right before you start to impale yourself on his length with a loud moan.

When you start to sink down onto his cock, he hisses and his fingers dig into your ass, exhaling through his nose to control himself as he watches your facial expressions while he stretches you out. “Feel good?” He smirks, voice heavy with lust as he slides one hand up to squeeze your breast.

“Yes, fuck.” Your eyes close and you clench down around him. “You’re so much thicker than my ex.” You admit breathlessly, not even thinking that he might not want to be reminded that you had just broken up with someone.

He chuckles, pinching your nipple. "Good, gonna make sure you don't remember his fucking name after tonight." He promises and kisses along your jaw, "want you to scream my name only."

“What ex?” You joke, groaning when he nibbles on your ear. “Fuck, Joel.” You sit up, bracing your hands on his chest and look down on him. He looks sexy under you. “You have a great cock.” You praise, starting to bounce on it. “I’m going cum all over it.”

Your words make him twitch inside you and he slaps your tit, wanting you to squeal. You start to rock on top of him and the sight is gorgeous but he reaches for the hat on his head. He takes it off and places it on your head. “Sexy as fuck.” He murmurs, watching you as your tits move.

You giggle as you ride him, leaning over to press against his chest and bounce harder. He feels incredible inside you, his cock punching deep enough to feel like he’s in your throat and you start to rock harder on him. “Fuck, fuck Joel!”

“That’s it, baby. Shit. Take what you want. God, you look so gorgeous ridin’ my cock.” He coos as his dark eyes trail down to watch where his cock disappears inside of you.

He doesn’t have the exaggerated drawl of a cowboy, but that gravely, raspy pitch to his voice makes your cunt clench around him as he praises you. Loving how he seems to be obsessed with you moving on top of him. Those hands caress you from your tits to your thighs.

Your moans make him twitch inside you and he digs his heels into the mattress, unable to stop himself from thrusting up into you with a groan. “You gonna cum for me, baby?” He asks, his hands sliding up to pinch your nipples and twist them slightly.

“Yessssss.” You hiss, clenching down around him and circling your hips. “Your fucking cock is so deep inside me.” You moan. “You’re in my throat. How the fuck did no one want to ride this cock every night?”

Joel doesn’t mention his ex at this moment but he’s been hesitant to get involved with anyone since she left him with a baby and walked out the door. It’s been hard and he’s finally taking time for himself. He’s going to let you take what you want from him. “Wanna see you cum again.” He rasps, groaning when you clench around him, getting closer.

“I will.” You moan, bouncing on his cock faster and gasping out when he pushes against a perfect spot deep inside you. “God I want to cum all over you.”

"Do it." He pleads, his jaw clenched as he tries to focus on not cumming before you. It's been too long since all he had was his hand. He groans and slides his hand between you, finding your clit to rub, needing you to fall apart for him.

That little nudge of his fingers is all you need. Crying out his name so loud it’s almost a scream you shake apart on top of him, clenching down on his cock and creaming all over it as your hips stutter and you collapse against his chest to press your lips to his breathlessly.

He pulls his hand from between you, his arms wrapping around you and he is desperate to cum. He thrusts up into you, hissing at the way you clench around him. So tight he can barely thrust up into you, and he groans as he pushes deep and finally lets go. He paints your walls with his hot cum, a pant of your name escapes his lips as the breath is knocked from him.

You pant as he relaxes underneath you. Both of you are trying to catch your breath. “Wow.” His cowboy hat is pushed back, falling off your back and you start to giggle in pleasure. Amazed at how good that was. “Good ride, cowboy.”

He chuckles, heart pounding in his chest as he caresses your back, “fuck, my fantasies didn’t do you justice. You are incredible.” He murmurs, kissing your shoulder and up your neck.

You hum in agreement. He cock is softening inside you but you don’t even have the strength to move off of him. “Much better than getting drunk downstairs.”

Joel smiles, “absolutely. I, uh, wouldn’t mind doing it again. And again.” He confesses with a softness to his voice as he caresses you. “I’ve wanted you for a while. Do you, maybe, uh, wanna go out sometime?” He asks, wanting you to know this isn’t just a quick fuck at a party.

“Of course I do.” You smirk, pulling back and giving him a small wink. “How else will I be able to ride this construction cowboy anytime I want?” You joke, happy that Lindsey had convinced you to come to this party tonight. This was much better than eating too much candy on your sofa all alone. “Although next time, I want to see that fucking tool belt on your hips. Do you know how sexy that is?”

Joel actually blushes and he shakes his head, "I didn't know. Tool belt...I can make that happen." He promises and leans in to kiss you again. You groan after you pull back, shifting off of him and he reaches down to tuck his soft cock away. "I know I come as a package deal but Sarah loves you. She thinks you are cool as shit. She will be part of the deal if we - you know?" He asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I know that.” You promise him. “Never would have thought any different. Sarah is your world. I respect that. She is the first priority in your life, like she should be. I would just like to spend some time with you, and her. I want to see where this could go.” You smile. “It’s not like we live far apart.” You remind him, knowing that it would be a good thing to be so close, unless things don’t work out.

Joel nods, “yeah. Yeah. I just - not everyone wants a single dad.” He admits and you reach out to caress his cheek, “a hot single dad. One I want to fuck.” You giggle and Joel blushes again, “I can definitely arrange that. You want another drink? Some snacks?” He offers, knowing he won’t want to leave the guest room for quite some time. You nod and he shifts off the bed, adjusting his jeans and he puts his shirt back on. He grabs his hat and places it on his head, a wink towards you as he opens the door, “I’ll be right back.” He promises and steps out of the guest room. Making his way downstairs barefoot, he passes couples and friends until he sees Tommy who asks where you are. “She’s upstairs.” Joel confesses, biting his lip, and Tommy smacks him on the shoulder. 

“Fucking finally, man. Good for you. You two make a cute couple. Don’t fuck it up.” Tommy raises his eyebrows and Joel nods, “only thing that’s gonna fuck this up is a goddamn zombie apocalypse.” He jokes and Tommy snorts, “you deserve to be happy, man.” Joel thanks him, grabbing the food and drinks to make his way back upstairs. He’s excited for the future. A future with you.

[biteyoubiteme]

something soft

chan x fem!reader

synopsis: getting high with chan.

warnings: 🔞!!! under the influence, lots of kissing, slight nipple play, marking, no protection, creampie prob forgot some sorry

wc: 925

an: a little something for chans bday! not proofread sorry! feedback is appreciated :))

It wasn't the first time the two of you had gotten high together and it wouldn't be the last time. Sometimes you need a night separate from exams and work just to sit back with your friend and think about nothing else. Most of the time you didn't last long after a movie was put on; curling up with the coziest fluffy blanket and falling asleep petting the fabric.

Chan was usually there next to you giggling along to whatever you put on the tv trying to get you to answer all his questions about it even if you've never seen the movie. 

Sometimes you got too overstimulated with having too many people over when you got high but chan was always the exception; always the first one you called. Only this was the first time either of you found your hands on each other. 

You're pretty sure it was you who started it. Your sense of touch always feels heightened when high and while sitting on the couch you brushed chans hair behind his ear. “Oh wow,” your fingers sliding along his scalp as he rolled his head back to look at you. Red rimmed eyes half lidded as he hummed, “your hair is so soft,” 

He gave a lazy smile, “do you like it?” and you're nodding sitting up so you can get both hands into his hair only it’s an awkward in the position you're in. 

It's how you convince yourself straddling his lap is the perfect solution and he doesn't object, his hands falling to your hips holding you in place as you keep brushing his hair back. 

He doesn't even realize his hands have slipped under your sweatshirt brushing along your smooth skin as he watches the way you bite at your lip. You feel like the two of you are moving so slow before you finally kiss. 

It was so easy to get to this point without seeing it coming at all. It's not like you didn't want to kiss chan if anything this was how you wished your smoking sessions turned out only they never did. You didn't even think about regretting it when you wanted him this bad. His hands all over you as he moaned into your mouth; as you tugged on his hair. 

You didn't have a bra on and chan was fast to run his thumbs over your pebbling nipples, pinching them until you whined. Your kissing was so sloppy neither of you cared about anything besides feeling each other. Hips rolling against his hardening cock. 

Chan pulls your sweatshirt off hands falling back to your waist to help guide your movements as he kisses down your chest. Your soft sounds fill up the space around you two as he sucks marks onto your skin. 

Everything was building up to be too much if you didn't get him inside you. Pulling away you stand to take off your shorts, chan following after you to strip. His cock pressed against your stomach as he pulled you back in for another kiss. Only breaking to say, “god i could kiss you forever,” 

When you two make it back to the couch you're laid back with him on top of you, kissing down your jaw before pushing into you. The stretch has you gasping, arms wrapped around his neck as he buries his face into your hair. You've never had sex high before and didn't know just how good it would actually feel. Every drag of his hips, brush of his fingers, was highlighted and when he was settled all the way in he was pressed so deep inside you, you couldn't believe it. 

His slow thrusts only feel drawn out with the sensation of being high. Every throaty moan rumbling in his chest as he pressed his nose against yours. It was probably the most intimate thing you've ever done with a man. The golden light from the lamp showing off every pretty feature on his face. “Look at you,” he whispered, lips ghosting over yours. 

When he slips a hand down between the two of you to rub at your clit he kisses away your sounds, needing to feel your gummy walls clenching around him. Every sloppy thrust helps build up your orgasm, the warmth in your pelvis building and building as you wrap your legs around his hips, heels pressing into his ass to keep him closer to you. 

“Im not- im not wearing a condom,” he mutters but neither of you care as he sinks in closer, pressing his weight into you. 

“Its okay, i wanna feel it, all of it,” 

You're so wet it's easy to slip in and out of you, the soft build up of your whimpers letting him know you're close before you cum. Your nails dig into his back a silent moan on your lips as you feel the overwhelming flood of euphoria. Chan gives no warnings as he follows right after making sure to be pushed as deep as he can get, cock twitching as he fills you up with his hot cum. He's slow to ride out his orgasm, barely thrusting before completely wrapping you up in his arms.  

Neither of you try to move away from one another, basking in the feeling of one another without thought, every now and then softly kissing, fingertips drawing patterns on each other's skin. Chan doesnt pull out until he's completely soft, the gush of cum bothering no one as you tangle up, cuddling in closer without another word.

[balsee]

Hear me out? What if reader gave Sanji an apron that says “Kiss The Chef” she got it as ‘a joke’ and now, any time he makes/cooks something for the crew he only puts it on just for her and asks for a kiss before he gives her a plate of food. 🤣

I HEAR YOU LOUD AND CLEAR! <33

It started as a joke.

It's nearly lunchtime on the Thousand Sunny, and you innocently make your way from your bedroom onto the deck, holding your purchase behind your back. The rest of your crew was so wrapped up in their own leisurely pleasures that you walk by them, completely unnoticed, and make a beeline for the kitchen. Upon entering, you see Sanji putting together a plate of finger sandwiches, and he doesn't even notice as you walk up to him; he's much too focused on putting little garnishes on the plate. (Cucumber roses, you notice. You could die on the spot it's so cute).

You clear your throat. "Sanji?"

He glances up from his work, and immediately breaks out into a grin. You'll never get over that, how easy it is for Sanji to smile at the sight of you. It's as if your mere presence alone was enough to make him happy, and while you were never the self-deprecating type, never did you think that you would have that sort of affect on someone.

"Yes, darling?" He asks, wiping his hands on a dish towel. "Lunch is almost ready, but if you're hungry now, I can give you a small plate of fruit salad until it's time to eat."

You smile. "No, thank you, Sanji. Actually, I have something for you."

At this, Sanji blinks. "You do?"

"Yup!" you're starting to fidget, unable to tamper down a giddy, goofy smile, and he notices.

"What is it, love?" he asks with a laugh, and you bounce on the balls of your feet before you pull your hands from behind your back in a dramatic flourish.

It's a pink apron, with the words, "Kiss the Cook" in black cursive printed across the front; a red kiss mark replacing the dot of the letter 'i.' "Ta-da!" you sing, brandishing the apron. "Do you like it?"

Sanji seems at a loss for words, and whatever he's currently feeling, he manages to mask. "Where did you get this?"

"At that spring island we left yesterday," you explain. "I saw it in a window when I was shopping with Nami, and I thought it was perfect for you."

"F-for me?"

"Yes, silly, it's a gift!"

You're expecting Sanji to get embarrassed, or to take it in a way that clearly shows he's forcing himself to like it; but to your surprise, he positively melts.

"You got me a gift?" his voice is almost awed, and before you can say anything, he takes the apron from you. "Thank you, darling, really." You're a little taken aback, he's so sincere that you laugh.

"It was a joke, Sanji. A gag gift. I don't expect you to wear it."

"Of course I'm going to wear it!" he insists, and his usual lovesick enthusiasm comes back. "A beautiful, enchanting lady bought it for me! How could I deny such a heartfelt display from you?" and then to prove his point, he puts the apron on. "See? It's perfect."

***

You soon realize that the apron poses a problem. Sanji isn't embarrassed to be seen with it on, far from it, actually. But when Zoro made some crack about him being 'whipped' one evening in regards to the apron, Sanji had kicked him out of the kitchen after dinner was over, claiming that the "empty-headed, brain-dead" swordsman was too stupid to understand the importance of such a gift. And while you were happy Sanji ended up liking your little joke, a new problem starts to surface.

He'll put the apron on only for you, and tries to get a kiss.

"Y'know, for a simple kiss, I can sneak you another slice of cake." he said one night, when the dishes were cleaned and he was piping frosting along a pound cake.

"In your dreams, Sanji." you sing, and swipe a finger of icing before heading to the door.

He had tried several times after that, so sly and genuine that you almost felt bad for shooting him down. On his fourth attempt, he begs outright, completely and utterly shameless.

"Can't you see what you're doing to me, Mon coeur?" he asks, a steaming plate of paella in one hand yet to be given to you. "A kiss from you would mean the world to me, there's nothing else that would compare." he leans in ever so slightly, slightly pink-faced and pleading; there's a ruined look on his face that has your blood spiking dangerously. "What more do I have to do, sweet thing?"

You scrutinize him closely. Seconds tick by.

Sanji starts to compose himself, an easy smile on his face, as if he hadn't just made a fool of himself mere seconds ago, and his voice is soft. "Ah, don't worry, I'm just teasing. Perhaps another time--"

Before you can back out, you lean forward and kiss him, true and sweet. Time stops in a moment of pure perfection before it resumes. In a flash you pull away, but the soft feeling of his lips against yours remains. "There you go!" you smile at him, as cheerful as ever, and quickly take the paella from his hands before heading to the door. Normally, you don't eat food on the deck aside from sweets, but you want to hide your shaking hands and the incredible blush rising to your face.

As the door swings shut behind you, Sanji all but collapses onto the counter, and thinks that he's never been more grateful for a joke.

[miyahchan]

Week One - October 4th - Werewolf!Choso x Reader

Synopsis: Choso has always been possessive of you, but the full moon brings out a different side of him.

Word Count: 2k

🚨 Warnings: 18+ content, public sex, creampie, rough sex, penetration, all the good stuff.

A/N: It was super hard for me to incorporate werewolf stuff into this post but I did my very best. I’m not used to writing anything about werewolves so some details may be a bit vague or cliche. 🚨

Check out the official Kinktober 2024 post HERE!

Choso couldn’t lie – he felt bad. Really bad.

            He’d known the night wouldn’t go well. The full moon hung over the city like an ornament and bathed the streets in its subtle glow, and the streets were full of strangers focused on getting where they needed to go. He looked ahead of him, watching as you kept an unwelcome distance between the two of you.

            It all started when you suggested a late-night walk downtown. Choso hadn’t been worried about the full moon – unlike his brothers, he had always been able to control his primal instincts. He was the oldest, resulting in him having more experience. It should’ve been easy.

            You had your hand in his, guiding him through the bustling streets as you pointed at random things and talked his ear off about them. A lot of the shops had already started decorating for Halloween and he watched as your eyes widened in awe at every decoration you spotted. It was truly adorable, and he nodded along as you rambled on and on, your happiness being enough to make the night special. It was the most human he’d felt in a while.

            Well, until he came along.

            You felt a tap on your shoulder, causing both you and Choso to stop and turn around. Behind the two of you stood a guy, about your age, and Choso felt his stomach tie itself into a knot when the two of you smiled at each other and sparked up a conversation. The guy didn’t bother to even introduce himself to Choso, instead focusing on you and asking you all kinds of questions, trying to pry into your life. Your boyfriend just stood there, jealousy taking over. 

            He was a friend from college, you had said. Choso knew you’d gained a lot from your college experience; you talked about it all the time and your fondness of those memories made him care about it too, although he’d never had to worry about such a thing. He’d lived a long life with only himself and his pack, so he never had the same experiences as a human like you. It was foreign to him, but he knew he didn’t like it when you were so focused on another man.

            He attempted to swallow down the feeling that was bubbling in his chest. It was raw anger, mixed with something else. That something else was a feeling he’d trained himself to ignore in situations like this. Adrenaline pumped through his veins at 100 miles per hour, and he felt his muscles flex underneath his skin involuntarily. His eyes glanced up at the moon hanging in the sky. Poor mistake.

            The last straw was you laughing at one of the guy’s jokes. The laughter that Choso usually loved to hear became a cue for him to step in. 

            His hands made contact with the guy’s chest in an instant and the guy went flying back due to Choso’s inhuman strength. His body smacked a parked car, making its alarm go off. Choso knew it was a stupid decision, and it was unlike his usual reserved self, but at the same time, it felt amazing. His euphoria was only stunted when he felt you tugging on his arm.

            “Choso, let’s go!” He heard you repeat, and only then did he come down from his high. In that moment, he realized what he’d done. Luckily, the guy was still alive, his chest still rising even though he’d passed out from the physical blow to his body. However, everyone’s eyes were on the two of you. 

            Choso followed your command, the two of you rushing through the crowd. Fuck, what did he do?

            The two of you ran until the coast seemed clear and the sounds of the city started to die down. After you were sure that no one was trailing the two of you, you let go of Choso’s hand and picked up your pace, planning to leave him behind.

            He could smell the rage radiating from you. “Honey?”

            “Don’t “honey” me.” You snapped.

            He could’ve collapsed and cried in that moment. You had never talked to him like that before. Despite his quiet exterior, he tended to get rather emotional when it came to you. It was the closest thing to human he felt when he thought about his feelings toward you. He loved his pack as well – he’d go to the ends of the Earth for them – but you and him were a different type of love that he’d never experienced before.

            “I’m so sorry. I just thought...” He started to ramble before you stopped him.

            “You thought it was a good idea to throw someone into a car for making a joke?!”

            You know, when you put it like that, Choso couldn’t help but to feel juvenile for doing such a stupid thing.

            He picked up his pace to catch up to you, only for you to throw him the harshest look he’d ever seen in his life. He was in deep shit tonight.

            The sound of police sirens echoing through the air made both of you stop in your tracks.

            A look of panic spread across your face. “Oh shit.” You grabbed his wrist and dragged him toward a back alley. “This way.” 

            Choso had no reason to fear the police, but he would indulge in your fear if it meant you’d keep touching him. His face reddened as he focused on your touch. The two of you ducked through alleys, unsure of where the police were coming from but not wanting to find out. You both only slowed down when the sirens seemed far enough away to at least catch your breath.

            You were doubled over, taking sharp breaths as Choso admired your figure from behind. Then, he snapped out of it. How could he be checking you out when he’s supposed to be begging for your forgiveness?

            “This is all your fault, you know?” You wheezed. Your tone was less angry now, even if only because you could hardly breath. 

            “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. How about a candlelit dinner? Or maybe a picnic? A walk on the beach?” Choso listed every date idea he could think of until he felt you place a hand on his shoulder.

            “Do you really get that jealous over me?” 

            He hated how the word “jealous” sounded. “I’m just… protective, over you.” Yeah, that sounded better. “I don’t want anyone taking you from me, that’s all.” He muttered almost pitifully.

            Unexpectedly, you cracked a small smile and planted a soft kiss on his lips. “No one could ever take me from you, Choso.”

            He grabs your face and kisses you again, a soft whimper escaping him. You kiss him back harder and it becomes a game of tug of war for dominance. Your tongues dance in each other’s mouths and you end up with your back against the brick wall, finally accepting defeat. His weight is pressed against you as he starts moving to your neck, where he lightly bites you. He growls as he gets lost in the salty taste of your skin and your smell. 

            “Mark me.” You moan. “I’m yours.”

            That was all he needed to let his primal instincts take over.

            You were wearing a sundress, one of Choso’s favorite outfits on you. It was pretty, but that wasn’t the only reason he liked it. His large hands felt your curves through the thin fabric. A sundress also made for easy access.

            He pulls down the top of your dress, exposing your breasts to the cool autumn air. He latches onto one, sucking on your nipple harshly. You let out a cry, running your hands through his hair and messing up his spiky ponytails. Your moans filled the alleyway. You didn’t care about being caught, not when Choso was licking and nibbling your breasts just the way you liked it. As he licks on your nipples, you feel his hand lift the bottom of your skirt and go under, starting to massage your pussy through your panties.

            You gasp at the feeling, grinding against his hand. He doesn’t tease you for long, sliding his hand under the hem of your panties and rubbing his fingers between your folds. You gaze down at your boyfriend lustfully, who is still focused on your breasts. His expression is dead serious, purely focused on your pleasure. It was intense. You’d never seen him so intentional. He rubs on your clit, getting a soft moan out of you. This only spurs him on as he rubs circles on your sensitive bud. He knew exactly how you liked it. He glances up at you, his usual dark eyes having a hint of yellow peeking through now. He soaked in your expressions, watching every reaction you had to the slightest touch. 

            Your body tenses under his touch as you cum on his fingers, and you twitch as you’re overcome with a harsh wave of pleasure.

            “You’re mine.” Choso mumbles against your chest before letting go of your nipple with a wet pop. He puts his face close to yours, looking straight into your eyes. “Say it.”

            “I’m yours!” You don’t hesitate. This spurs him on to put more pressure on your clit.

            “Say it again.”

            “I’m yours Choso!” Before you know it, another orgasm hits you and you cum on his fingers again. You’re wriggling against his body, nearly screaming as Choso keeps fondling your pussy. You ride your second wave of ecstasy, leaving his fingers dripping wet.

            At that, Choso is satisfied, and he pulls his hand away. He turns you around so your front is pressed against the brick wall, and you hear the sound of fabric rustling behind you. Before you can brace yourself, Choso is already sliding his dick inside you, way too easily since you’re already so wet for him. He lets out a low groan as he feels you clenching around him. He tried not to lose control – he really did – but you just felt too good.

            He pounds into you roughly, giving you barely any time to adjust as you brace yourself against the brick. The sound of skin slapping against skin was music to his ears as he got lost in the feeling on you. He grabbed your arms and pinned them behind your back. You were going to take all of him.

            You were breathless as he fucked you, your human body being no use against his animalistic strength. His tip smacked your cervix, creating a beautiful mix of pleasure and pain. You were coating his dick in your slickness, the wet, obscene sound punctuating just how crude this act was.

            All that Choso could think about was filling you up with his seed. He’d always loved the idea of growing his pack, particularly with you as his mate. He keeps your arms in his grasp as he bounces you back and forth on his length. His senses were heightened due to the full moon, your moans sounding even louder and your pussy smelling sweeter than ever to him. In the back of his mind, he worried about hurting you, but you didn’t seem to mind.

            Your third orgasm hits you like the brick wall you were pressed against when Choso pumps into you harder. Your legs shake beneath you, the only thing keeping you standing being Choso holding you up. You hear a rumble in his chest as he relishes in the feeling of you clasping around him, pulling him in even deeper. 

            “Mmm,” He moans. “Whose pussy is it?”

            “Yours!” You can’t explain the pleasure you feel as he goes even faster, despite you being overstimulated from already cumming three times.

            “That’s right. It’s mine.” Choso cums inside of your pussy with a shudder, his cum leaking out and dripping onto the concrete. He pulls out slowly, watching a string of both your juices combined connect the two of you. He rubs his tip between your folds, smearing his cum all over your pussy.

            When he notices how weak you are, he wraps an arm around your waist to hold you up. “So, do you forgive me?” He’s back to his normal senses now, remembering the events of the night.

            “Yes, I forgive you.” You roll your eyes, though you can’t help but to blush as you remember where the two of are. “Now, can you help me get dressed please?”

[mingi-s-dimples]

Saddle Up - Yungi

KINKTOBER DAY 3, REQ. BY anon 🍞

~ "Would definitely love a YunGi x reader fic! YunGi as cowboys, and they frequent a pub where they grow attached to the owner's daughter (reader). Up to you how it plays out, but definitely lots of spit play, praise kink, double penetration, anal, degradation is good too! Maybe use of sex toys 🤭 just pure FILTH!"

pairing: cowboy!yungi x fem!reader

genre: 18+, western cowboy au, fwb, filth

summary: you've been helping around at your father's pub for a while, and two men became loyal customers. Little did you know they'd grow fond of you and.. they'd propose something.. tempting.

wc: 3.3k

warnings: fwb dynamic, cowboy au, big dick!yungi (obvi), cocky & bratty reader, manhandling, spit kink, cock sucking, cock warming, double penetration, customersfingering, mouth fucking, deepthroating, creampie, lots of cum, cum play, unprotected (wrap up irl!), completely consensual!, unedited, for sure forgot something.

Author's Note: THIS WAS AWESOME TO WRITE ! I loved the cowboy au idea you gave me, anon.. it truly was a wonderful experience and idea to imagine and bring to life. I hope you liked how I wrote it ! Enjoy it, my love 🍞💖 (you can send me an ask with the emoji and number/idea and tell me your opinion !! I'd love to know it).

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction & does not represent in any way the reality of the member.

The soft hum of voices, clinking glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter filled the air in your father’s pub. It was a place that felt like home in every sense of the word. You'd grown up here, watching your father serve drinks and tell stories to the regulars who wandered in after long days working the ranches. And lately, two of those regulars had started to capture your attention more than most.

Yunho and Mingi.

They weren’t like the other men who frequented the pub. Sure, they were cowboys through and through, with their worn leather boots, wide-brimmed hats, and the rough callouses on their hands that spoke of long hours spent in the saddle. But there was something different about them—something that made you glance their way more often than you should.

Yunho, with his tall, broad frame and gentle demeanor, always greeted you with a smile that made your heart skip a beat. There was something steady about him, a quiet strength that radiated from his every movement. He was polite, respectful, and kind, the type of man who would hold the door open for you without thinking twice.

And then there was Mingi—loud, playful, and with a mischievous glint in his eye that never failed to make you laugh. He had a way of making everything feel lighter, as if the weight of the world didn’t matter when he was around. His teasing always came with a grin that made your cheeks warm, and you found yourself looking forward to his playful banter more than you'd like to admit.

Over the past few months, they had become a fixture in your daily life. Whenever they came in, they made sure to talk to you, whether it was asking about your day or just making you laugh with some ridiculous story about their time on the ranch. You had grown fond of them, maybe more than you should’ve, but there was no harm in a little attraction, right?

You figured that’s all it was—a harmless crush. After all, they were always respectful, never crossing any lines. It was easy to enjoy their company without worrying about things getting complicated.

At least, that’s what you thought.

---

It was late one evening, the pub quieter than usual with only a few stragglers left nursing their drinks. You had just finished wiping down the bar when you overheard them talking. Yunho and Mingi were sitting in their usual spot by the window, their heads close together as they spoke in hushed voices. You wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but their voices carried just enough for you to catch snippets of the conversation.

“I’m telling you, she’s been looking at us differently lately,” Mingi said, his voice laced with excitement.

“You think so?” Yunho replied, sounding a little more hesitant, but there was a spark of curiosity in his tone. “I’ve noticed it too, but I didn’t want to jump to conclusions.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you realized they were talking about you. You quickly busied yourself with cleaning, trying to look like you wasn’t paying attention, but you couldn’t stop your ears from straining to hear more.

“She’s interested,” Mingi continued confidently. “And we’ve been talking about this for a while. I think it’s time we make a move.”

Yunho chuckled softly. “And you think she’ll go for it?”

“Why not? We’re not asking for a relationship or anything heavy. Just… fun. And I think she might be into that.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Fun? What exactly were they planning? You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and curiosity swirling inside. Were they really talking about what you.. thought they were?

Before you could gather your thoughts, they stood up and started walking toward the bar. Your heart pounded in your chest as they approached, mind racing with all the possibilities. You weren’t sure what you was expecting them to say, but you knew one thing for sure—you weren’t ready for whatever was coming next.

Yunho was the first to speak, his voice calm and steady, just like always. “Hey, we wanted to talk to you about something.”

You looked between the two of them, feeling suddenly nervous. “What’s up?”

Mingi, ever the bold one, grinned down at you, leaning on the bar with a playful glint in his eyes. “We’ve been thinking, and… well, we’ve noticed that you’ve been looking at us a little differently lately.”

Your heart leaped into your throat, but you tried to play it cool. “What do you mean?”

Yunho stepped in, his expression more serious but still gentle. “We’ve both grown pretty fond of you, and we get the sense that you might feel the same. So… we were wondering if you’d be interested in, you know, something more casual. Between the three of us.”

You blinked, taken aback by the directness of his words. “Casual?”

“Yeah,” Mingi chimed in, his grin widening. “Nothing serious, just… friends with benefits. The three of us. If you’re into it.”

Your mind was spinning. Friends with benefits? With both of them? The idea sent a thrill of excitement rushing through you, but at the same time, you felt a wave of skepticism. Was this really a good idea? you had never considered something like this before, and the thought of getting involved with both of them, even if it was just casual, seemed like it could complicate things.

“I don’t know…” you began, hesitating as you looked between them. “Are you guys serious about this?”

Yunho nodded, his expression calm but sincere. “We wouldn’t have brought it up if we weren’t. But there’s no pressure. If you’re not into the idea, we’ll drop it.”

Mingi leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “But if you are into it… I think we could all have a lot of fun.”

You bit your lip, feeling your heart race as you considered their offer. It was risky, sure. But there was something undeniably exciting about the idea. They were both attractive, charming, and they had always been good to you. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

After a long pause, you finally nodded, feeling a rush of adrenaline course through. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Mingi’s grin widened, and Yunho’s eyes sparkled with quiet approval. “Good choice,” Mingi said, his voice dripping with excitement.

The night that followed was a blur of touches and whispers, a heated dance of tension that had been building between us for far too long. It was thrilling and intense, everything you hadn’t known you were craving, and as the night stretched on, it became clear that this was only the beginning.

Being with them—both of them—was more intoxicating than you had ever imagined. The tension that had been simmering beneath the surface finally boiled over, and what started as curiosity quickly turned into something deeper, something more passionate.

By the time the night ouy ended, you knew one thing for sure: this arrangement, this casual thing between the three of you, was going to be a lot more than just a fling. And as you lay there, tangled between them, mind already racing with the possibilities, you realized that maybe this was exactly what you had been waiting for all along. But... the night was just.. getting started.

"So... y/n." Yunho started, looking contently in your eyes, his left hand traveling up your body. Mingi's right hand was also on your body, feeling you up.

"Wanna come over?" Mingi continued.

You were stunned for a moment because of the sudden direct question, but you didn't hesitate any longer and agreed. "Y-yes"

"Good girl. Let's go" Yunho whispered.

---

"Make yourself at home, darling" the taller one said.

"Oh, yes sure. Thanks" you smiled at him.

"So...what should I do to you, sweetie? Mingi's hands on your waist, one of them on your ass, squeezing it softly and his other hand on your lower back, pulling you closer to him.

"Oh, yes... tell us. What are.. your fantasies? Hm?" the taller one smirked, caressing your chin, from behind your back.

As the two men were starting to fondle with your body, Mingi with your ass and waist... Yunho with your chin and breasts, you could already feel Yunho's pants getting thighter against your ass. You gasped softly at the sensation, pushing yourself back more into his crotch. He groaned at your suddent touch, manhandling you to face him in a second.

"What a naughty slut are you.. arching your back to feel me more? Don't worry... you'll feel me well and more than enough tonight." Yunho said and picked you up, followed by Mingi. He dropped you on the bed, the two men towering over you.

"Mingi.. get the toy." the other one said and took off his clothes, being left only in his briefs. He was... fucking huge. You gulped.

"Let's see..." Mingi said and undressed himself, but him completely bare in front of you. His dick sprung out of his briefs, angrily hard and throbbing with every move of his and yours, coming closer to you.

"Yunho, undress her please"

"On it"

You were basically.. at their disposal. But was it uncomfortable for you? Not at all. You were in fact turned on by their manhandling, arousal already pooling in your panties. Yunho took off your blouse and corset, then your thight skirt.

"Fuck." he looks at you, like he'd want to eat you right there and then.

Yunho pushed you on the bed, crawling over to you and his hands went traveling on your body. His right hand went down to your thighs, spreading them out slightly. His slender long fingers took of your panties forcefully, leaving you bare and dripping in front of him.

"Hah.." he scoffed,"Already? You're so wet, baby" he said and without a warning he spread out your wet folds and started finger fucking you, your back arching at the sensation.

"Mingi, come here" Yunho whispered and even tho you were fucked out, you realised what he wanted him to do.

Mingi took the vibrator Yunho told him to get and put it to your clit, rubbing soft and slow circles around it. His free hand went to his lenghty and girthy cock, rubbing it lazily while watching you squirm and whine under the two.

"Uhgh- m-more!" you moaned out, while the two were overwhelming you with their touches. Mingi was circling your clit while Yunho was fingering you, both sending you over the edge.

"What a good girl... aren't you our good girl?" Mingi said.

"Y-yes !" you whined.

"And what a good slut.." Yunho dug his free hand in your thigh, your body arching.

"Hmm.. let's see how much you can take." the younger one said and pressed the vibrator harder on your clit, receiving some loud moans out of your now rapidly rising chest. He gave the vibrator to Yunho and you were now faced with him coming closer to your face, his cock hovering over your lips. You acted almost on instinct and kissed the red tip, looking up at Mingi. He gave you a nod, meaning you had to suck. You spit once on his cock and rubbed it a bit, then spit again to lube it up completely. You were already overwhelmed, but whatever he said you had to do so, you went right to work.

"Oh- damn, your mouth feels so good, y/n." he said.

You started by slowly sucking in his tip, trying to get accustomed to his girth. After you've seen both boys completely bare in front of you, you got to the conclusion that Mingi was way girthier than Yunho, but Yunho was lengthier... which either way was gonna hurt you relentlessly if they were gonna fuck you. Which... was gonna happen.

As you were sucking Mingi off, from his tip to the base and the whole shaft, Yunho without warning used two fingers in your other hole, receiving a moan and soft whines out of you, which revebrated through Mingi's dick. At the sensation and when you bit him down softly from the surprise he came down your throat, without any warning beforehand. He nodded again.

"Don't let a single drop go to waste, darling." the younger one smirked at you, his right hand going under your chin, lifting it up so you could get every single drop right down your throat.

"Such a good slut I have.." he said and wiped your lips clean, planting a kiss on your forehead.

You were also close to your high, been catching it for a while since Mingi started using the vibrator. You were so overwhelmed and overstimulated, even tho they just played with you until now. Only sloppy and whiny sounds could be heard in the whole room, from all 3 of you.

"Y/n... I'll be generous." Yunhi said and started finger fucking you forcefully, hitting all your perfect spots and curling his slender fingers inside you. You were clenching onto his fingers. taking him all up in your cunt. His fingers suddenly touched your cervix and you moaned at his touch, to which he fingered you a few more moments until the knot in your belly came undone, sticky white cum dripping off of his fingers when he pulled out. He sucked them dry, looking right into your eyes. It turned you the fuck on.

"Mingi... she's all lubed up. Lift her up." Yunho said and the younger one did as told, coming right under under you and letting you sit on him, pressing your back to his chest. Mingi's huge hands were now holding your waist, digging into your flesh. Yunho looked pleased at the position you both were in, smiling.

As your cunt was still dripping with your fluids, Yunho got an idea. He spit two, three times as close as possible to your core and used two of his fingers to gather some of it along with your cum, then lubed your other hole up with the mixture. You whined softly at the sensation, his spit feeling colder inside you. Mingi brought you up a little so he could line his cock to your ass, then softly tapped himself to your rim. You held onto his forearms as the two of them pushed themselves inside you at the same time, trying to bottom out but to no avail.

"Fuck... you're so thight."

"No shit... y-y'all are both inside m-me, mhmm" you whined cockily.

"Bratty?" you heard from under.

"Mhm, that's what I see." Yunhi said and forcefully pushed himself inside you, finally bottoming down, touching your cervix. You loudly moaned, arching your back but soon after being strictly held down by Mingi. It hurt so bad.. but it felt so good.

"M-more!" you shouted.

"And how do you politely ask for more, you little slut?" Yunho said, pounding rapidly into you.

"P-please ! P-please, more..." you whined.

"See? that's more to my liking." and he started fucking you even more rapidly and Mingi too. You could feel both cocks stretching you out so good, it hurt but oh god. Yunho had a proeminent vein on his length that you could suddenly feel rubbing against your clenching walls, driving both of you insane. The friction happening between all 3 of you didn't last too long as Mingi cursed a few times before coming right in you, followed by you. You let out some soft whines and tears fell from your eyes because of the pain and overstimulation.

"I'm not..." Yunho stopped for a moment.

"Done yet." he pushed himself fully inside you, his pelvis hitting yours, your back arching.

Mingi moved from under your body to the side and started watching you, catching his breath. As soon as he left, Yunho lifted you up and turned you around, his cock still inches deep inside you. You were now facing the linen, your face flushed and your eyes teary. He tangled his hand in your hair and arched your back with his elbow, then started rapidly and forcefully pounding into you, slapping sounds could be heard from him slamming against you.

"Y-Yunho ! Slow d-down!" you shouted.

"Nu-uh. You've been a little slut today... you were cocky a moment ago, where did your attitude go, hm?" he bottomed down and lifted you up, your back arched against his chest. One of his hands on your throat, slightly choking you... the other one on your waist, holding you close. You could almost feel that he was close. His thrusts became sloppier and heavier, with every and each of his thrusts your ass slapping against his pelvis and thighs, his hands finding warmth on your throat and waist, his kisses trailing your shoulders and back. He thrusted a few more times forcefully, almost animalistic, and came in your cunt, fucking you through his orgasm. You were overstimulated... but Mingi had other plans.

His cock was once again fully hard and throbbing. But that wasn't the highlight of the moment. He kneeled down in front of you on the bed and brought your head to his aching cock, unsticking your back from Yunho's chest. You were now fucked by Yunho and face fucked by Mingi.

"Love.. let me spoil you for the night." Yunho said and the hand that was on your waist slowly went to your cunt, his slender and long fingers circling your clit once again. Your mouth was filled with Mingi's cock, your cheeks feeling thight and the corners of your lips hurting. Mingi couldn't take it anymore, to see you slowly sucking his cock... so he took the problem in his own hands. He tangled his hand in your hair and started face fucking you again, deep throating you and feeling his cock hitting the back. You gagged twice on it, a satisfied look on Mingi's face could be seen if you looked above you. He patted your head, softly pulling out only to let you breathe, coughing a couple of times and gasping for air. You completely forgot how Yunho was ramming into you, your clit hurting from all the pressure he has inflicted.

"I've always wanted to fuck you.. y/n," the taller one said. "Not even fuck you.. but make love to you. I've always craved your lips, your soul.. my thoughts have always been filled with us softly kissing, tongues interlocking.." he was now slowing down, smoothly thrusting, almost making up for his just said words.

"Me too, y/n.. we've always wanted to get to know you better.. both as friends and, well.. sexually," he giggled, followed by Yunho smiling against your shoulder blade, sending shivers down your spine.

As both boys were now complimenting you.. kinda satisfied with the fact that you made them finish at least one time, they decided to also make you cum so.. Mingi started kissing you, holding you by your waist, while Yunho was working his way from the back, fondling with your ass and wildly ramming into your cunt. It wasn't long until you felt the well known knot form in your belly, and with a few thrusts of Yunho's, you came again, your orgasm being followed by squirting all over you and the boys. Mingi broke off the kiss and smirked playfully, slowly helping you off Yunho as soon as he slowed down his thrusts. He placed you on the bed and wiped you down with a cloth, then sat next to you. Yunho did the same.

"How was it?" they asked, in unison.

"F-fucking amazing..!" you softly said, still dizzy from all the action.

"Up for.. a 2nd round?" Mingi giggled.

"Wouldn't it be.. a 3rd round? Yunho smiled. "I'm joking, take your time, catch your breath.. we're not leaving you alone tonight." he said and planted a kiss on your forehead, softly stroking your thigh.

The night just started... and you were more than happy to spend it with them.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @gong-fourz @arki-sha @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117

[twst-drabbles]

Azul 27

Summary: Azul finally decided to let you see his sea form. You've been wanting to touch him in this form like this for a while.

(This turned out longer than I thought. Was going to keep this short but oh well, I like spoiling him occasionally.)

"What if, one day in the very very far off future, I decided to show you my other form? Of course, it's not as if I'm ever going to show you… but, if I do, what will you do?"

Usually questions like that are accompanied by that usual, irritating smug look on Azul's face, like he had the clairvoyance needed to see all the little things that go on in your head, but it wasn't there that day. Well, it was there, it was just a different variety of smug. A fake smug. Like his attempt to toy with you ended up exposing a part of himself, to himself, that even he wasn't aware of.

Azul is horribly easy to read once one gets to truly know him.

So, on that day, you responded with, "Hmm, probably cherish every part of you."

He choked and you laughed as you set his hat straight, and then Azul never brought up that question, or that day up again.

Until now, that is.

You have seen Azul in his sea form, but it was under circumstances too dangerous for you get a good look at. Or properly enjoy. That and when someone is under overblot, all their colors just get more ashy, like they were dunked in a pool of ink and not properly washed out.

Azul is still gray, but there's this purple, almost indigo undertone to it that gives him more life compared to back then. His tentacles writhed uncomfortably on the floor, and Azul looked ready to curl up somewhere and hide from the world.

"Well?" Azul pouted, "Are you going to just stand there with the door wide open?"

It's weird to think that all people under the sea are usually naked, and that they're comfortable with it. You can't help but wonder how long it took to adjust to full clothing. It couldn't have been a comfortable adjustment. And yet here Azul is, trying to cover himself like a human would, in a form that works best naked.

You closed the door and brushed your fingers against the tentacle that was ready to lock the room for you.

"Wait--" Azul shivered, hand slapping over his face to hide the blood rushing to his cheeks. "Don't just touch me out of nowhere!"

You put your hands up, smiling. "Sorry, sorry."

It felt… just about what you expected to be honest. Fleshy, but there's a firmness to it that felt nice.

Azul retreated his tentacles back to himself, but he didn't turn away from you. His arms were stiff at his sides as his eyes look at anywhere but you.

So, as per usual, you took the first step. "Mind if I touch your face?"

Best to start off with something easy, something familiar.

"…You… you may."

Besides, you can never waste an opportunity to make his face go soft like this.

Azul's head practically brushed against the ceiling. He had to both sit and bend down just to have your hands reach his face.

"It really is weird how magic can hide so much of your mass," you said after a quick peck on his lips.

Azul didn't give a verbal reply. He just made a noise under his throat.

You gave another kiss, on his left cheek. "Mind if I can feel your extra limbs?"

Azul made the same noise, louder, behind a clenched jaw.

"Is that a no?" You soothed a palm over the back of his neck, playing with the little hairs on them. You're fine with just seeing. At least now you know how his colors actually looked.

"You… may." He sighed into your neck, clutching at your shirt. His tentacles rose from the ground and lazily brushed against your legs.

You caressed a thumb over the glittery freckles of his hips. "You can stop me at any time, alright?"

Azul hummed.

You tapped against one of his lilac suction cups, liking their almost swollen appearance. Almost reminded you of bubbles. Your every touch made Azul twitch, but he didn't say or do anything about it as you continued to touch.

Azul's breath transformed into a shivering sigh when you trailed from the thin end of his tentacle, to the plump base, and to the gills flaring below his torso.

"Was that too much?" You asked, amused as you continued to touch his waist.

Azul slid his palms over your waist, turned his head, and kissed your neck.

"No," you lightly chuckled, carding through Azul's hair, "I guess not."

You guided his head and laid your lips on his.

[hkruu]

Yandere CEO x reader who wants to be your sugar baby?

“CHOOSE ME!”— hkr

\\ silly little yandere guy , manipulation(?) , guilt tripping , murder and violence heavily implied , kidnapping , two faced character , reader is gn as usual //

Obviously Yuri wouldn't give up just because you rejected him. A simple "no" will not be enough, he will never stop unless you finally say those words — it's the only goal he's working towards.

Aside from balancing his CEO status from the company, he thinks it's an easy life, thrilling even. But it doesn't come easily, he can't slip up one bit lest he'll fall down from the reputation he's built for the past 2 years.

It simply wasn't worth it.

But for you? Oh how he wishes he could be pampered by your soft hands, guide him, spoil him, sweet talk him — ah how he yearns to be beside your bed, stroking his hair gently as you talk about your stressful day. It's the perfect world he has envisioned for the both of you.

Yuri isn't about to give up just because you said "no".

Yuri would go to insane lengths just to make you look at him. No, he cannot have you looking at some other good-looking woman or man — you must only look at him. He'll whine about it to you and complain, guilt tripping you into apologizing and you having to sweet talk him so that we won't sulk over it.

You think it's hard work but for Yuri it's the opposite.

Never underestimate him, just because he acts like a total puppy around you does not mean that he won't resort to violent tendencies. Mind you Yuri is a CEO — he has learned all the ways the world works, you need to work hard for the thing you want.

"P-please let me go! I did nothing!" The person screamed angrily, struggling to get out of the chair they've been tied up to.

"Nothing? Why are they ignoring me then?" Yuri looked down at the unfortunate individual, if they hadn't interrupted his precious plan he would've been in their arms by now.

His gaze was piercing before continuing into the night, the ambience of agony has never sounded better in Yuri's ears. It was a pleasure to hear every time he got the chance to do it, whether by kidnapping, torturing, making them commit — it was wall fun.

But you still say no to his advantages.

Why can't you understand that he just wants to be taken care of? It's such a simple request, you don't have to have sex with him, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do.. Yuri doesn't understand.

Yuri is practically crying in front of you, confessing his undying love to you. "Here I am, putting effort into this whole thing while you just bask in my attention.. do you even appreciate things I do for you?" He'd say while sobbing.

Yuri needs you can't you understand? He'll beg you for it, he'll get on his knees. Yuri is desperate and once he gets everything he wants, it's sure that you'll never ever get away from him ever again.

He'll take everything in his hands, make you feel insecure, he needs you to be emotionally dependent on him — that way he'll be the only person you'll turn to when you need someone. You don't need your family, siblings, friends, co-workers, just Yuri.

Yuri assures you that he'll never leave your side just make him yours, take care of him, spoil him, make him happy. It's what he deserves, he went through so much yet you still don't appreciate him? What's wrong with you.

Are you that ungrateful? Be an angel and just say yes and accept his proposal.

Yuri built this dream brick by brick but you broke it down, he will keep rebuilding it for an eternity until you finally accept your role in his story.

Pamper him go ahead, he won't complain. Spoil him all you want, he'll be your doll who will sit still and look pretty for you to look at. Just make sure you don't lose interest, he'll make sure you'll only look at him.

"Have you considered it yet?" Yuri causally asks you, smiling brightly. It was hard to imagine this hard-working CEO to be someone different, he was someone you could trust.

"I'm still thinking about it.." You sheepishly say to Yuri, you don't know why you suddenly feel like a thousand daggers are piercing through you as if there will be consequences to your own actions.

"Please think about it hard. You'll never regret it." He smiles at you.

\\ ahh sorry if it's a bit short ;; I rushed this one because I was behind my writing schedules (I was supposed to post this way earlier). I think this is one of my worst writings yet but uhh I rlly like the story idea! //

[slowlyoats]

The Lost Boys: What they like in other people

Marko

- creativity

- Absolutely HATES the idea of blending in

- Hence why his jacket is so different from his brother’s jackets

- He’s drawn to creative people who outwardly express their creativity with their appearance

- This is why he loves the board walk!! There are TONS of people who dress originally and In an unapologetic way

- I think one of his biggest struggles with being a vampire is that he can’t be outside during the day, and it’s not because he misses the sun or the warmth, it’s because thats the time of day people are usually outside creating wall murals, doing chalk art, painting landscapes.

- He misses interacting with those artists

- So, if he is at the board walk and just so happens to see someone set up with an easel, painting the lights of carnival rides, you BET that boy is going to introduce himself

- And find out everything there is to know about you

- And try to convince you to stay in Santa Carla forever with him

Paul

- Music taste

- Paul is a music snob

- He will totally judge a person based off the music they listen to, and will, on many occasions, choose his victims based off their poor music taste

- His favorite place on the Boardwalk is the record store

- It’s run by this older lady who shares Paul’s love for music

- He goes in at least once a week to say hi, and discuss music with her

- I feel like her name is Gretchen, but Paul insists on calling her Gretch

- He usually sits behind the cash register and talks to her in between customers

- And if it’s one of those nights where Paul can’t sit still, Gretchen makes him unload boxes in the back room and set up any new displays

- She LOVES to play matchmaker with Paul

- Because she is the only record store around, she knows the music taste of most people who live in Santa Carla

- So she try’s to find Paul a date, by matching up his music taste with a regular’s

- This usually doesn’t work out, but she LOVES to try

- *whispers* “look at her Paul! Isn’t she lovely?? And she listens to Motley Crüe!”

- He went on one date that Gretchen set him up on, and it didn’t end too well….so he swore he would never do it again.

- Let’s just say that the girl smelled a little TOO good and he couldn’t stop himself from having a taste

- He cares too much about Gretchen’s companionship to ruin it with him loosing control and eating all her customers

Dwayne

- kindness

- The boys don’t get shown a lot of kindness because…you know…they kill people and stuff

- But that doesn’t mean they don’t have feelings!!

- Dwayne might be the silent, stern type, BUT if anyone shows him the tiniest bit of kindness this man will become your devoted follower

- He may be a vampire, but he remembers what it was like to be human, and how easy it is to be selfish and just plain mean

- He also remembers that kindness is a choice

- And the kindest people tend to be the strongest

- Being kind to him is one thing, he might keep an eye out for you on the boardwalk in case you find yourself in trouble, or change your tire if you get a flat.

- But

- If your kind to Laddie?

- Maybe he got lost and you helped him find his way back to the boys? Or bought him a ice cream? Or maybe even helped him reach an arcade game he so desperately wanted to play?

- Oh boy.

- You just found your self a guardian watch dog angel. Trust me when I saw NO ONE will lay a hand on you or look at you the wrong way EVER and live to tell the tale

- And if you just so happen to be his type?

- Well, I hope you like Santa Carla because you won’t be leaving

David

- courage

- He admires someone who can stand there ground

- Who can get in the face of a surfer nazi and tell them where they can stick it

- Who won’t put up with Paul and Marko teasing them, and will dish it right back to them!

- Who won’t be intimidated and has no problem telling him and the boys “no” with a smile on their face

- Someone who doesn’t give a flying you-know-what about what anyone has to say to them about hanging around him and his boys

- Their confident in their decisions, even the bad ones

- When offered a drink from that sparkly bottle they give him a wink, and take a huge swig!

- And PROMPTLY spit it out all over their prized poster, because like HELL will you be tricked into doing anything you don’t want to do

[loony-n-moony]

do you think you could do a scenario where azul comforts the reader about their weight ??

you bet ur ass I can

Azul Ashengrotto Weight Comfort x Reader!!

First things first, you may have to accept that Azul upon initially learning of your insecurities, whatever form it may take, will freeze up.

He’s still in the process of unlearning his own self-hatred, and he CERTAINLY doesn’t want you going down the route he took

that route of course being trying to overcompensate for his past entirely.

He wants you to be the best version of you, of course, but he doesn’t wanna see you destroy yourself in the process.

Naturally, he consults the only people he had by his side during such a time, the twins. That went about as well as you could expect.

“I’m being serious, you two!” He’d scold, already dreading having even brought this up with the twins.

“But we are being serious! I mean- c’mon, some light jokes never hurt.” Floyd combatted, that same smug little smile of his adorning his face. This only caused Azul to roll his eyes, shooting the eel a glare.

“It most certainly did! All you did was make me angry with you! How is that supposed to help at all?!” He huffed, feeling a migraine beginning to form. He had enough on his paranoid mind thinking about ways to hopefully redirect you from even a fraction of the self-hatred he endured, he certainly did not need the twins being… well… them.

“Well, it redirected your hatred, did it not?” Jade chimed, “Even if it was only temporarily, you refocused your efforts into getting the one-up on us somehow.” He spoke as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. While Azul considered this, he thought back to his overblot, and immediately pushed aside the idea.

“You could always give ‘em a good squeeze.” Goddamn it, Floyd.

After that complete mess, Azul was fired up enough to say “screw it” and do it himself.

He held his usual suave confidence, asking to talk with you, assuring that no deal would be involved.

However, once the discussion began, that same anxiety began to pool in his stomach. He hated seeing you upset. How it reminded him of himself.

Seven knows his own insecurities still haunt him, so to see you in a state similar to his is almost enough to make him tear up.

Despite this, however, he’s sincere. More sincere than you usually see him act, that’s for sure.

Despite how he stumbles over his words, he eventually says what he wants to say. What he wishes someone told him.

“Listen,” he began, taking a deep breath. “I understand simple compliments won’t make the pain go away. No deal I could offer could wash away the hurt, I know that better than anyone.”

He put a hand on yours, giving it a light squeeze. “I truly do think you’re beautiful, if that’s at all a consolation. I look at how you carry yourself, despite the inner turmoil and… a part of me envies that. Your strength. How somehow… throughout everything… you’re still you. You haven’t lost sight of yourself. That’s something I wish I had and- and something I can’t bare to see you lose.” Damn it all, he could feel the waterworks rise up. After all this time he was still a crybaby.

“I understand my practices are… ahem- questionable. But… if you ever need to cry with someone, I have an octopus pot that’s free to you at any time… free of charge, of course.” He smiled, despite him being teary-eyed only seconds ago.

He may not have all the answers, but he’s still there whenever you need. He’s not about to let you cry alone, of course!

EEEEEE I hope you like it!!! First time trying my scenario format, I hope it’s easy on the eyes. More than that, I hope you enjoy, and that you always know you’re never alone no matter the struggle!!

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[thedemonofcat]

“You love selfishly,” the witch told Geralt, which was pretty presumptuous seeing as how they’d met all of 5 minutes ago. And those 5 minutes had been spent trying to kill each other. “This selfishness will hurt you and those you love. Until you learn to love selflessly, you will only take your pleasure in the pleasure of others.”

Even as the curse took hold, Geralt didn’t panic. As curses went, it didn’t sound so bad. The bit about “pleasure” made it sound like it was about sex. Like, he wouldn’t be able to feel good unless his partner did, which was a standard Geralt held for himself anyway.

Only, the curse was much more than what he had assumed. Geralt soon discovered that food had lost its taste, that he tossed and turned all night. He wasn’t in pain, but he was never comfortable.

Fuck.

Through trial and error, Geralt learned the rules of his curse. It was pretty simple really. He couldn’t enjoy anything in life alone. Someone had to be nearby and enjoying it with him. Their pleasure was his pleasure. If that person wasn’t pleased with a meal—or in general—Geralt’s food would taste poorly too.

This made things difficult for Geralt. He had a solitary profession. Additionally, the people he did meet were never comfortable around him: all scared of hateful or suspicious.

Geralt found some work arounds though. Roach was a lifesaver: if she was eating, he could eat nearby and taste his meal. As long as she slept well—and nearby—he could sleep.

Winter was better: he explained his situation to his brothers, and he was never left without a companion. They offered to travel with him on the path, but he refused. He could endure the rest of the year as long as he had Roach

Geralt considered breaking the curse; however, he honestly wasn’t sure how. He honestly didn’t believe in love that was completely selfless. Relationships were always about give and take. People always wanted things from one another.

Years passed, Geralt endured, and then he met Jaskier.

Jaskier was… odd. He had taken one glance at a witcher, a rumored butcher, and decided that Geralt was his traveling companion. And then his muse. And then his friend. No matter how Geralt tried to disabuse him of any of these notions.

He did admit that having Jaskier with him made the path easier. He didn’t have to carefully time his meals and sleep around Roach when the bard was around. Jaskier was also surprisingly easy to please. Geralt could give him stale bread to eat and a lumpy mattress to sleep on, and the bard exuded joy.

Even while complaining the entire time.

The oddities continued when Geralt discovered that Jaskier didn’t have to eat a meal to enjoy it. Once, Geralt had been grievously injured, and Jaskier had insisted on spoonfeeding him. Even though the bard didn’t eat a morsel, the bard was so happy that the soup tasted like ambrosia to Geralt.

It was all so strange, and it made Geralt strange too. He caught himself thinking about how to make Jaskier happy. Not because of the curse. Because…because it was Jaskier, and Jaskier was meant to be happy.

Geralt loved seeing Jaskier smile, especially when he laughed. He'd never been one for music, but the sound of Jaskier's laughter was the sweetest melody to him.

But there were days when Jaskier seemed lost. Despite his usual cheerfulness and boundless energy, sometimes a deep sadness settled over the bard.

“You need to get up,” Geralt said. It had been three days since Jaskier had refused to leave his bed at the inn where they were staying, and Geralt was running low on coin.

“Then just leave me,” Jaskier muttered. “You always say you will.”

“I don’t mean that,” Geralt replied. “You know that.” This time, his tone carried a hint of uncertainty.

“Leave me alone, Geralt,” Jaskier said, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

On days like this, Geralt wondered most about the curse. Was it selfish of him to wish Jaskier weren’t sad? To want to understand the monsters lurking in the bard’s mind so he could fight them?

All Geralt knew was that he loved seeing Jaskier happy.

[kitchenisking]

September Fic Rec

History in these Streets by orphan_account - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 3,988, sterek)

Its Derek's birthday and now that Stiles doesn't have Malia, he misses Derek even more than before. Fortunately Braeden is back and gives him a way to contact Derek. In doing so however, old emotions resurface and grow as the two talk on the phone almost everyday. Derek says he probably won't come back though, and that hurts Stiles more than anything.

Or Stiles misses Derek so they talk on the phone but will Derek come home for him?

(We both failed each other in a way) by hellodickspeight - (Rating: T, Words: 742, sterek)

"Why are you laughing ?" he asks through his teeth.

"Are you actually hearing yourself ? Me, cheating on you ? That's like reverse day. If someone did the cheating, it would be you--""

In which Derek thinks Stiles is cheating on him.

Say You Love Me by sunnydalewerewolf - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,540, sterek)

“Say it,” Stiles repeats, kissing him on the lips again.

“If I say it too much it might lose its meaning,” Derek jokes.

“If you never say it at all it will definitely lose its meaning.”

Derek sighs. “Why don’t you say it?”

“I asked you first.” 

AKA: Stiles and Derek have sex and say I love you a bunch of times.

Bravery is a Loaded Gun by DefNotForWork - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 17,389, sterek)

“No, I’m not asexual, Stiles,” Derek said shortly.

The teen’s heart sank in his chest, his palms going clammy and his neck prickling with the familiar feeling of rejection.

“So then it’s,” Stiles swallowed, throat clogging, unable to give voice to the facts he would much rather ignore. The silence grew between them, growing tense the longer it was left. For the first time in years, Stiles couldn’t speak. The weight of inadequacy held down his typical stream of useless banter. What does one say in this sort of situation? ‘I’m sorry you don’t find me attractive?’

In which the boys speak in half sentences and have two totally different conversations. What they can agree on, eventually, is that they love each other. And that Derek should jerk off more.

No Stones in Heaven by DothTheRaven - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 9,652, sterek)

Derek knows the moment he meets eleven year-old Stiles that he’s found his mate. Of course he doesn’t tell the boy this, because he knows that would be creepy and would probably get him arrested. So he bides his time, and befriends the boy and falls in love and waits for the day when Stiles can be a part of his life, forever.

And really, in the end, it’s all Derek’s fault.

Stiles will become a more permanent part of Derek’s life, just not in the capacity he’s been hoping for. Not in the capacity he needs.

It’s because Derek wanted his privacy. It’s because Derek lied to his family. It’s because he wasn’t paying close enough attention.

It’s about happiness and sacrifices and loving your family and doing what’s right, even when it feels like the worst decision of your life.

The Same Old Blood Rush (With A New Touch) by rainsoakedshoes - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 29,564, sterek)

“Friends with benefits,” Derek stated. “I just happen to be in a position to provide a few more benefits than your usual hook ups.”

***

Derek was an Alpha with a pack and a multi-billion dollar company to take care of. Stiles was a college kid with assignments and student debt to worry about. Neither of them were looking a serious relationship. A one night stand turned into an easy no-strings-attached arrangement. Although nothing is ever as easy or as simple as it first seems.

Cause I Built a Home (For You, For Me) by noneedforhystereks - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 59,719, sterek)

Mechanic!Derek and Daddy!Stiles

Derek Hale is a mechanic in the sleepy town of Beacon Hills, where he has lived all of his life. He spends his day in a simple routine: wake up, fix cars, go home, sleep. It's what he's good at, and it keeps things simple and uncomplicated. Derek doesn't let people in and remains emotionally distant from everyone except his sister, Laura, and her daughter. This all changes when Boyd tows in an old blue Jeep that needs a lot of work and Derek meets the owner of said Jeep.

Because once Derek meets Stiles and his kids, he can't stop himself from caring. And he doesn't want to stop.

my wings a hurricane by kellifer_fic  - (Rating: T, Words: 20,322, sterek)

Stiles had been like any other kid growing up in the era of dragons. He'd watched the cartoons, the news stories, had the lunch box. When his screening at Beacon Hills High had come up negative, he'd been disappointed but unsurprised. His positive results were returned three years too late for it to be in any way convenient or cool.

Or, the one where they ride dragons.

Becoming Yours by dbeaux - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 46,688, sterek)

As a dom and owner of Stockholm Syndrome, Stiles takes pride in providing a safe place for people to scene. After a bad breakup, he's not looking for a sub, isn't sure he wants a full time sub again.

College student and curious sub Derek needs a full time dom but hasn't found anyone willing to take him on so he spends as much time at Stockholm Syndrome as he can, pairing up with various doms willing to take him on for an evening.

When their worlds collide, can they find what they need in each other?

Beacon Hell by alikatastic - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 4,693, sterek)

It had been easier than he thought to talk himself into the field to save Derek's furry ass. The raid was over, and, hell, he couldn’t believe it went as well as it did. Stiles had lost his job, but they hadn’t sent him to some supernatural jail, so he would take his wins where he could. Except, Stiles wasn’t ready to go home. He’d just gotten away; he was free.

[joelsrose]

Guns & Roses

Summary: New series! Joel Miller couldn’t stand you, and you weren’t exactly fond of him either. Yet somehow, fate seemed determined to weave your lives together, no matter how much you resisted.

TW: just mean!joelmiller - 4.8k words eee enjoyyy

Chapter One

You and Joel Miller were not friends. Not at all.

Ever since Joel Miller had entered Jackson, there had been something—something you couldn’t quite name—that kept him at arm’s length from you. It wasn’t just indifference or distance; it was as though every time you were near, it set off an invisible alarm in him, a deep, simmering irritation that crackled in the air between you.

You didn’t understand it.

It felt personal in a way that made no sense, as if just being around him was enough to make him want to leave the room.

And you had no idea why.

Sure, Joel was a gruff man, with his trademark stoicism and hard edges. Everyone knew that. He was someone who struggled to connect, someone with walls so high you’d wonder if he’d ever learned how to take them down.

But slowly, after a few months in Jackson, Joel had softened. Not by much, but just enough.

You’d see him offering small smiles to the townsfolk, his weathered hands occasionally helping out with a chore, his nods of acknowledgment more frequent. He wasn’t friendly, exactly, but he was warming up to the people around him. Jackson, with all its noise and community, had chipped away at his rough exterior.

But with you? Joel Miller remained a brick wall.

He didn’t smile at you. He didn’t wave or nod. He didn’t even make eye contact unless it was absolutely necessary. Every interaction felt like walking on thin ice, a sharpness to his silence that made the air between you ache with discomfort. The warmth you’d see in him, the small flickers of humanity that everyone else seemed to coax out? They evaporated the second his gaze found yours, as if all the walls that had softened for others came crashing back up around you.

It wasn’t just confusing. It stung.

What made it worse was that you couldn’t figure out why. You were well-liked in Jackson. You had a reputation for being kind, caring, funny—charismatic in a way that drew people in without much effort on your part. People sought you out. You were the type of person others trusted, the one who could make a tense moment lighter with just a smile. You knew how to connect with people, how to build friendships that were rooted in something real. You had friends everywhere—Tommy, Maria, the patrol groups—and wherever you went, you fit in.

But not with Joel Miller.

With Joel, it felt like no matter what you did, you could never find your footing. He didn’t laugh at your jokes, didn’t seem to care about the easy rapport you had with everyone else. If anything, his coldness made you doubt yourself, made you second-guess every interaction, every conversation. You, who had always been so sure of your ability to connect, were suddenly questioning everything.

You could still remember the day Joel arrived in Jackson, Ellie by his side, both of them looking weathered and wary. There was something raw in the way Joel had embraced Tommy, a kind of relief that softened the edges of his usual guarded self. For a moment, he had looked so vulnerable, so unburdened by the weight of the world, that you’d thought, maybe, just maybe, we’ll get along. After all, if Tommy loved him, how hard could it be?

Tommy had been so excited to introduce you two. You were one of his closest friends in Jackson, practically family, and he’d pulled you aside that day, a wide grin on his face as he said, “I can’t wait for y’all to meet, I know you’ll get along great.” There had been such hope in his voice, such warmth. It had made you smile, had made you eager to get to know Joel. You had thought of all the ways your bond with Tommy would naturally extend to Joel—how you’d become this little trio of friends, tied by loyalty and time.

But it hadn’t happened that way.

Instead, from the very first moment you and Joel had locked eyes, something had been off. You couldn’t pinpoint when, exactly, it shifted, but as the months wore on, the gap between you seemed to widen. You couldn’t understand what you had done to push him so far away, but whatever it was, it felt irrevocable. It was as if, in Joel’s eyes, you had done something unforgivable before you even had the chance to know him.

Tommy’s words echoed in your mind sometimes, taunting you with their false promise: You guys will get along great.

You remembered the first time you had met Joel—it had been one of those evenings meant to feel light and warm, filled with laughter and food. Maria had invited you to Tommy and hers for dinner, a small gathering, just family and close friends. The kitchen had smelled like garlic and rosemary, the scents swirling around you as you helped plate the dishes while Maria buzzed beside you, chatting about the latest updates in town.

Then you heard the door creak open, the murmur of low voices carrying into the kitchen. Joel and Ellie had arrived, their figures framed by the dying evening light streaming through the doorway. There was something comforting in how they stood—a familiarity, an ease that only family can share. Tommy’s laugh rang out, hearty and genuine, as he clapped his brother on the shoulder, leading him into the room.

“Hey, Maria,” Joel’s voice cut through the air—gruff, grounded, with a depth that seemed to echo from the very walls of the house. And then, Tommy turned to you with that warm brotherly smile of his, introducing you.

You’d smiled—nervous but friendly—extending a hand as you offered a casual greeting. “Hi, it’s so nice to finally meet you, Joel.”

A light-hearted joke about the food had slipped from your lips, something meant to fill the space, to break the silence, to ease the unfamiliarity. But Joel had only stared for a heartbeat too long, his hand moving to shake yours with a grip that felt as solid and immovable as stone. There had been no warmth, no softness in his eyes, no smile to meet your own. It was as if your presence unsettled him, a chill descending between you two in that brief exchange. You had felt it then—the distance, the resistance.

And it only grew from there.

Through the evening, you had tried. Tried to coax him into the conversation with little remarks, to pull him in through laughter and lighthearted banter. Ellie had laughed, her bright smile flickering like sunshine breaking through the clouds. Tommy had nearly fallen out of his chair at one of your jokes, his laughter filling the space between bites of food. Even Maria had chuckled softly, her eyes glowing with warmth as she nudged you playfully.

But not Joel.

Every time you spoke, his brow furrowed just a little deeper. His lips pressed tighter together, and his eyes flicked away from yours as if he couldn't bear to hold your gaze. It wasn’t outright hostility, but the coldness lingered like a shadow, hovering between every word exchanged. The more you tried to engage him, the more distant he seemed, as if you were pushing against a wall that refused to budge.

And the more Joel pulled away, the more it gnawed at you, turning your confusion into something more jagged, more bitter. How could someone you barely knew have such a hold on your thoughts? How could one man’s distance feel like a rejection of everything you thought you were good at?

As the days blurred together, you’d find yourself thinking about it more than you cared to admit. And as much as you tried to brush it off, tried to tell yourself that you didn’t care, that his coldness didn’t matter—it did. It mattered more than you wanted it to.

And Joel? He didn’t seem to care.

That was why, when you saw your name paired with Joel for the next patrol, you were stumped. A frown pulled at your lips as you stared at the roster, the list mocking you with its cruel pairing.

Joel Miller.

The man who could barely look at you, who actively avoided your presence, now slated to spend hours—days even—alone with you out in the wilderness. Whoever had put this together had to be playing a joke on you.

But as your eyes drifted down to the bottom of the roster, you saw the telltale initials: M & T. Maria and Tommy. The two people in charge of organizing patrols.

Of course.

You gruffed in frustration, the idea of spending hours in silence, or worse, awkward small talk with Joel, made you inwardly groan.

Shaking your head, you started the short walk toward Maria and Tommy’s house, the crisp winter air biting at your cheeks. The snow beneath your boots crunched with each step, the sound sharp in the otherwise quiet evening. Jackson’s main path was lined with soft, glowing lights that reflected off the fresh blanket of snow, guiding your way.

Their house wasn’t far, tucked neatly alongside the other homes, warm and inviting with its soft glow spilling from the windows. You could see the familiar curl of smoke rising from the chimney, a sure sign of the roaring fire inside. As you approached, you could hear voices filtering through the thick wooden walls—louder than usual, urgent. You slowed your pace, the tension in the air becoming palpable, the muffled sound of raised voices stirring something uneasy in your chest.

“What the hell is this, Tommy?” Joel’s voice cut through the stillness, gruff and laced with irritation. You stopped short of the door, your breath catching as curiosity took hold. You shouldn’t eavesdrop—you knew that—but you couldn’t stop yourself. You needed to hear what Joel had to say, especially if it would finally give you some insight into why he always seemed to look at you with that simmering frustration.

“What’s the big deal, Joel?” Tommy’s voice echoed back, exasperated but steady, trying to keep the peace.

“You know damn well what the big deal is.” Joel’s tone was biting, sharp enough to cut through the thick wooden walls. His frustration was palpable, practically vibrating through the air. “You’re pairin’ me up with her? Jesus, Tommy, you know I can’t stand her.”

The words hit like a physical blow, and your heart clenched painfully, the sting immediate and deep. You had suspected it for a while, of course, but hearing him say it out loud—that he couldn’t stand you—felt like a punch to the gut, one you weren’t prepared for.

You weren’t the type to let words get to you, especially not like this, but this—this was different. A lump formed in your throat, and before you could stop it, tears pricked at your eyes, threatening to spill over. You pressed yourself closer to the door, the silence inside the house heavy as if even Tommy was taken aback by Joel’s outburst.

Finally, Tommy spoke again, his voice filled with frustration, tinged with disbelief. “And why the hell not? She’s a good person, Joel. A damn good person with a heart of gold. What the hell did she ever do to you?”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat growing. You stepped closer to the door, your heart pounding as you waited—needed—to hear Joel’s response. You needed to know why.

“It’s not that simple, Tommy.” Joel’s voice was quieter now, the frustration tempered, but it carried a weight that made your pulse quicken.

“What the hell’s so complicated about it?” Tommy shot back, his voice rising in disbelief, clearly at the end of his patience. “You’ve barely said two words to her since you got here. If you’ve got a problem with her, why don’t you just spit it out?”

The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating. For a moment, you thought Joel wouldn’t answer at all. The tension hung in the air like a coiled spring, ready to snap.

And then, in a voice so low you almost didn’t hear it, Joel finally spoke. “It’s just… I can’t, alright? I can’t… be around her like that.”

Your heart pounded painfully against your ribs, confusion swirling inside you. What did that even mean? You had no idea what he was trying to say, but it twisted something deep within you, the uncertainty gnawing at your insides.

“Jesus, Joel,” Tommy sighed, his voice carrying the weariness of too many conversations just like this one. You could practically hear him running a hand through his hair, frustration and exhaustion blending in his tone.

“Look, you don’t have a choice here. What if one day it’s just the two of you out there, the only ones available for patrol, and something goes sideways? You gonna let things fall apart because you can’t get over yourself and work together?”

There was a pause, Tommy’s words hanging in the air like a plea for reason. You knew you had heard enough. The knot in your chest had tightened to the point of pain, and you were ready to turn away, to retreat before things got worse.

But before you could move, the door creaked open.

Joel stood in the doorway, his broad frame blocking out the warm light from inside. His eyes found yours immediately, and in that instant, you knew—he had seen you. And he knew you had heard everything.

The flicker of recognition in his eyes made your chest tighten even more, your heart racing as the tension between you grew impossibly thick. There was no apology in his gaze, no softening in his expression. He just stared at you, his features tight and unreadable, leaving you suspended in the heavy silence of everything unsaid.

Behind him, you could see Maria and Tommy, their faces filled with worry, watching as the situation unfolded like a slow-motion tragedy. You felt exposed, raw, like an open wound, and the last thing you wanted was for anyone to witness that vulnerability.

Joel pushed past you without a word, his shoulder brushing yours as he strode down the steps, his footsteps heavy against the ground. He didn’t even glance back, leaving you standing there, heart in pieces, with nothing but the cold air biting at your skin.

You turned on your heel, walking away from the house, your steps heavy, dragging, like your body was weighed down by the ache in your chest. You wanted to move faster, to disappear into the night, but your legs felt unsteady beneath you, refusing to obey the urgency in your heart. Each step felt like a struggle, the sting of unshed tears blurring your vision as you tried to hold it together.

“Wait—” Tommy called after you, his voice tight with concern. “Come inside, talk to us.”

But you couldn’t. The tears were already threatening to spill, your throat tight with the pressure of holding everything in. The last thing you wanted was for them—for him—to see you like this, breaking apart in front of their eyes. Your vision wavered as the first tear slipped free, and you blinked hard, trying to will it away, trying to push down the hurt that was clawing its way up.

You needed to get out of there. Anywhere but here. You moved faster, your boots crunching in the freshly fallen snow, your breath coming in short, ragged bursts as you made your way down the path. The cold air nipped at your cheeks, but it did little to numb the burning in your chest.

Behind you, you heard Tommy rushing after you, his footsteps crunching through the snow, his voice softer now, urgent but gentle. “Hey, kid—he didn’t mean it. You know Joel. He’s complicated. He doesn’t know how to—” His words trailed off, as if he couldn’t find the right way to explain something even he didn’t fully understand.

You stopped, your feet rooted to the ground, but you didn’t turn to face him. You couldn’t. Not like this. Not when you were one breath away from falling apart entirely, from letting everything you’d been holding back flood to the surface.

“I’ll be fine, Tommy,” you said, your voice tight, barely managing to stay steady. It felt like a lie, like a betrayal of the truth you were burying inside, but you couldn’t let him see you like this. Not over Joel Miller. You wiped at your eyes hastily, trying to brush away the tears before they fell. “I just… I need to go.”

There was a pause, the silence thick between you, weighted with sympathy, with Tommy’s understanding and his guilt. He didn’t say anything else, and in that moment, you were grateful. He didn’t push. He knew better.

So you walked away, your heart heavy with the weight of it all. The cold air bit at your cheeks, but the sting of Joel’s words hurt so much more, echoing in your mind like a wound that refused to heal. And underneath it all, one question burned like fire, searing through every doubt and every hurt—Why?

Why did Joel hate you so much? What had you ever done to deserve it?

•••

The morning sun filtered through the thin curtains of your small home, casting soft, golden beams across the wooden floor. The house was modest—just enough space for one person, with a kitchen that opened into a cozy living room, and a bedroom tucked away in the back. The walls were lined with small, personal touches—books you had collected over the years, a few framed photos of moments from before, and little trinkets you had scavenged from various patrols. It was a quiet space, peaceful, but this morning, the weight of the silence felt heavier than usual.

You sat on the edge of your bed, your hands lingering over your boots before pulling them on with a sigh. The air in Jackson had the sharpness of early morning, and you knew the day ahead would be long. As you tied the laces, the conversation you’d overheard at Tommy and Maria’s house replayed in your mind—the sting of Joel’s words, the coldness in his voice. "Jesus Tommy, you know I can’t stand her." It had been days since, but the ache of it still hit like a fresh bruise, tender to the touch.

You stood and moved to the small table by the door where you kept your patrol gear—your rifle, your gloves, a well-worn coat. Everything felt heavier today. As you strapped on your holster, you caught your reflection in the window. You looked tired. Not just from lack of sleep, but from the quiet hurt that had been growing inside you, quietly gnawing at your spirit since the moment Joel’s words reached your ears.

With one last glance around your home, you opened the door and stepped outside, the crisp morning air hitting your cheeks. The stable wasn’t far, just a short walk, but the journey felt longer today. Each step reminded you of the awkward silence that was bound to hang between you and Joel, the weight of unspoken words and the tension that had always been there but now felt even more unbearable.

When you arrived at the patrol meet-up spot, your eyes immediately landed on your horse. He whinnied softly, recognizing you as you approached. You smiled faintly, running your hand along his muzzle, brushing through his thick mane. It was a ritual by now—whispering a soft hello to him, patting his side, and taking a moment to ground yourself before setting out. He was the one constant, the one being you could rely on during patrol. You leaned in, pressing your forehead gently to his, letting the warmth of his presence calm your frayed nerves.

But then, you heard the familiar sound of boots crunching in the snow behind you. Without even turning, you knew it was Joel.

You felt his presence like a weight in the air—heavy, silent. He said nothing as he walked past you, his eyes fixed on his own horse. There was no greeting, no acknowledgment, just the awkward tension that had settled between you both like a fog. The memories of that conversation played over again in your mind, and the pang of hurt hit you square in the chest as you stiffened slightly.

You stole a quick glance at him as he saddled his horse. His face was set in that same stoic expression, the one he wore around everyone in Jackson—but with you, there was an added distance. He kept his eyes averted, focusing on the task at hand, and for a moment, you wondered if this day would pass without a single word between you.

With a sigh, you climbed onto your horse, settling into the saddle with a practiced ease. The silence between you and Joel was palpable, thick like the cold morning air. You wanted to say something—anything to break the tension—but the words caught in your throat, stifled by the hurt that lingered.

Joel mounted his horse without a glance in your direction. You both sat there for a beat, the sound of horses shifting in the snow the only thing breaking the stillness. Then, without a word, he nudged his horse forward, and you followed suit, the two of you riding out together into the white expanse of the wilderness beyond Jackson.

The only thing heavier than the quiet was the unspoken weight between you.

You began your journey through the thick silence that had settled between you and Joel like a fog. The cold wind bit at your skin, but it was nothing compared to the coldness that radiated from the man riding just ahead of you. His shoulders were hunched, his back stiff, his eyes never once flickering in your direction. The snow crunched beneath your horse's hooves, the sound the only thing to fill the uncomfortable quiet between you.

Not a single word had passed between you since the patrol began. The tension was unbearable, the weight of Joel’s unspoken words hanging heavily in the air. You hadn’t expected warmth or friendliness, not after everything, but the biting silence cut deeper than you could have imagined.

Hours passed before Joel finally spoke, his voice a low mutter as he pointed toward a narrow path. “We’ll go through here,” he said, his tone flat and emotionless, as though he were simply checking off a list. It was strange to hear him speak after so long, and for a moment, it felt as though his words didn’t belong to him.

You followed in silence, the trail winding deeper into the forest, the trees closing in around you. The snow-covered ground glittered under the faint sunlight, casting long shadows that twisted and danced between the trees. The world felt smaller here, more enclosed, and with each passing moment, the unease inside you grew.

Eventually, you arrived at your destination—a crumbling cabin tucked deep in the woods, half-buried in snow, its wood aged and brittle against the cold. The stillness of the air made everything feel heavier, like even the trees were holding their breath. You dismounted your horse quietly, your fingers stiff from the biting chill as you fumbled with the reins. Joel had already tied his horse to the post, his movements precise, practiced.

He turned toward you, the lines of his face hardened, eyes sharp as they caught yours for a moment too long. His jaw clenched, the tension palpable. “Follow me,” he ordered, his voice cutting through the cold air like a whip. “And don’t say a word. Not a single word. From here on out, we’re silent.”

His command, rough and unyielding, struck you with a sharpness that left your chest aching. It wasn’t just the cold seeping into your bones—it was the weight of his disdain, pressing down on you, constricting your breath. You nodded, your throat tightening with unspoken words you knew would only make things worse.

You followed him toward the cabin, the wind howling softly around you, whispering secrets you couldn’t quite hear. The snow crunched beneath your boots, the scent of pine lingering in the air. But despite the open wilderness around you, the world felt unnervingly small. The cabin door creaked on its rusted hinges as Joel pushed it open, the sound echoing like a warning in the eerie stillness. You hesitated before stepping inside, the dim light barely illuminating the cramped space that lay beyond.

Your pulse quickened, your instincts telling you something wasn’t right. You’d been on enough patrols to recognize danger, but this… this felt different. It felt personal. Like the shadows themselves were watching, waiting.

Joel moved ahead of you, his broad shoulders tense, his gun drawn as he scanned the small room. His silence felt thick, suffocating, the air between you charged with unspoken tension. You tried to steady your breathing, to calm the hammering of your heart, but the unease gnawed at you, made every sound sharper, every shadow darker.

And then it happened.

A figure lunged from the darkness, too fast for you to react, the world tilting violently as you were tackled to the ground. The impact stole the breath from your lungs, the cold, hard floor biting into your skin. The raider was filthy, wild-eyed, his hands rough and cruel as he pinned you beneath him, the sharp gleam of a knife flashing before your eyes. Panic surged through you, but your limbs felt heavy, useless against the overwhelming force holding you down. The knife hovered dangerously close to your throat, the cold steel grazing your skin, and for one terrifying moment, you thought this was it—this was how it would end.

But then Joel was there.

He moved like a storm—fast, brutal, and unstoppable. In one swift motion, he yanked the raider off of you, throwing him to the floor with a strength that seemed to come from somewhere far deeper than just muscle. Rage radiated from Joel as his fists met flesh, each blow landing with a sickening crack that echoed through the tiny cabin. He didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. The raider’s body went limp beneath him, but Joel kept going, his fists relentless, pounding into the man with a fury that seemed to possess him, until the only sound left was the ragged heave of his breathing and the wet thud of blood dripping onto the floor.

You lay there, gasping, your chest rising and falling in uneven, desperate breaths. The world spun around you, the edges of your vision blurred by adrenaline and fear. You pushed yourself up on trembling arms, your body weak, every nerve on edge. Your heart thundered in your chest, so loud you could hear it in your ears, drowning out the silence that had settled like a heavy fog.

Joel turned toward you then, his chest still heaving with exertion, his fists stained with blood. His face was dark with anger, his eyes burning as they locked onto yours. “What the hell was that?” he growled, the fury in his voice so raw it made you flinch. “You could’ve been killed.”

His words were a blade, sharp and unyielding, cutting through the thin veil of composure you’d been clinging to. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to breathe. You wanted to speak, to defend yourself, but the intensity of his stare pinned you down more effectively than the raider ever could. Every word you wanted to say died on your tongue.

And then he muttered it, low and venomous, just loud enough for you to hear: “Fucking burden…”

The words sliced through you, deeper than any knife. You felt them settle in your chest, a sharp, stinging ache that spread like wildfire, consuming the air around you. You stared at him, the sting of his words leaving you breathless, your heart sinking as if it had been thrown into the abyss.

“No,” you spat, your voice shaking with a mix of anger and hurt. “You don’t get to talk to me like that.”

Joel’s eyes flashed, his body going rigid as he turned fully to face you. “Excuse me?” His voice was dangerously low, like the quiet before a storm, but you didn’t back down. Not this time.

“You heard me.” Your chest was still heaving, adrenaline still coursing through your veins, but your resolve was stronger than your fear. “You don’t get to treat me like I’m some… problem you have to deal with. I’m out here trying to do my part, same as you.”

His expression darkened, disbelief twisting his features. “Do your part? You almost got yourself killed back there! If I hadn’t been here—"

“If you hadn’t been here?” you cut him off, your voice rising as the anger overtook the fear. “What, I’d be dead? Is that what you think? That I can’t handle myself? I’ve been on patrols long before you showed up. I’ve survived without you. Just fine.”

Joel scoffed, his lips curling in frustration. “Yeah? Didn’t look like it just now.”

His words were another blow, sharp and biting, but you refused to let them break you. “I didn’t need you to save me, Joel. I would’ve figured it out.”

His eyes narrowed, his jaw working as he fought to control the anger simmering just beneath the surface. “You think this is a game? You think you can just figure it out when you’ve got a knife to your throat?” His voice was loud now, booming in the small space, filled with a frustration that felt all too personal.

“You could’ve died. And for what?”

“Fuck you, Joel.”

The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them, raw and jagged, fueled by the fire burning in your chest. You didn’t care about the consequences, didn’t care that his eyes had gone dark with shock. You were done. Done with being treated like something fragile and disposable.

Joel stared at you, his body tense, his mouth slightly open like he hadn’t expected the bite of your words. For a moment, the space between you felt like a battlefield, the silence pulsing with the weight of everything unsaid. The anger that simmered in you wasn’t just from this moment—it was months of pent-up frustration, of feeling like you were constantly crashing against a wall with him, never allowed in.

Your chest heaved, your hands trembling with the adrenaline still coursing through you.

“I don’t need you to save me,” you said, your voice shaking with the force of what you felt. “I never asked for your help, Joel. And I sure as hell don’t need you treating me like I’m some burden. So fuck you.”

His eyes flashed with something—anger, guilt, maybe something softer, but he quickly buried it beneath that familiar cold exterior. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might snap back, might throw something just as harsh in your face. But he didn’t. Instead, his gaze dropped, just for a second, like your words had found their mark.

“Fine,” he muttered, his voice low and hard. “You don’t need my help? Then don’t ask for it.” He turned sharply, storming out of the cabin without another word, his footsteps heavy in the snow, leaving you standing there in the cold, breathless and burning with the aftershocks of everything you’d just said.

But even as the silence swallowed him up, you knew the storm between you wasn’t over—it had only just begun.

[badger-tales]

Father Figure!Remus & Werewolf!Reader

A/n: I LOVE LOVE LOVE father figure!Remus!!! I may have gone a bit cray cray with the request but I can’t help myself!!!

Request: I just got into Harry Potter and I finished the 3rd movie with some friends. And Remus Lupin became one of my biggest comfort characters! I was wondering if you’d do some father figure headcannons/fic? Reader is also a werewolf and just overall is really depressed bc of it and he comforts them and takes them under his wing kinda thing? Takes place when he is a professor if thats okay! (Also obviously this is all platonic) You can pick any house you want for the reader, I dont mind personally Feel free to ignore this request if you dont wanna do it ❤️ Thank you so much!

Word count: 2k

Y/N sat at the edge of the Black Lake, knees pulled to their chest, staring blankly at the water’s surface. The chill in the October air mirrored the cold weight that had settled in their chest long ago. The full moon had passed just a few nights ago, and the familiar ache of transformation still lingered in their bones. The isolation, the secrecy—it all felt like too much.

“Mind if I join you?” A soft voice broke through Y/N’s thoughts.

They looked up to see Professor Lupin, his usual kind smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Without waiting for an answer, he sat beside them on the grass, close enough to offer his presence but far enough to give space.

Y/N didn’t respond, simply looking back at the lake. They’d heard whispers from the other students, rumors that Lupin was kind and understanding, but this was the first time he’d approached them.

“I can always tell when someone’s had a rough full moon,” he said quietly, gaze fixed on the lake. “The weariness in your eyes. The way you’ve been avoiding people these past few days.”

Y/N’s throat tightened. They thought they’d been hiding it so well.

Remus continued, his tone gentle but knowing. “It’s not easy, what we go through. And it’s even harder when you feel like you’re the only one.”

Y/N glanced over at him, meeting his eyes for the first time. There was no pity in his gaze, only understanding—like he knew exactly what it felt like to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“I don’t know how to keep going,” Y/N whispered, their voice cracking. “It’s like… it’ll never get better.”

Remus sighed softly. “I’ve been there. Many times, in fact. It doesn’t always seem like it, but there’s more to life than just our transformations. More than just the loneliness.”

He paused, giving Y/N a moment to absorb his words before continuing. “You’re not alone, Y/N. You don’t have to go through this by yourself. I’m here—if you ever want to talk. Or not talk. Sometimes just having someone who understands makes all the difference.”

Y/N felt tears sting at the back of their eyes, but for the first time in a long time, they didn’t feel entirely hopeless.

“Thank you, Professor,” they whispered.

Remus smiled, his warmth a balm against Y/N’s hurt. “You can call me Remus. We’re in this together now.”

This could be a pivotal moment in their relationship, where Y/N starts to trust Remus and sees him as a mentor and father figure.

🌙

• As the full moon approaches, Y/N always feels the dread building up—both physically and emotionally. They try to hide it, but Remus sees the signs right away. He’s been through it too many times himself not to notice.

• Remus starts a tradition: inviting Y/N to his office for tea the night before each full moon. It’s quiet, comforting, and helps both of them ease the tension. The moment becomes a safe space where Y/N doesn’t have to put up walls.

• Remus always prepares the tea himself. He has a small collection of herbal blends, carefully selected to help soothe nerves and muscles before the transformation. He’ll explain to Y/N the properties of each, in that gentle, knowledgeable way of his, as if he’s passing down something special.

• Y/N feels the first flickers of calm the moment they enter his office. The soft glow from the fire, the quiet hum of the teapot—it’s all far removed from the chaos and pain they know is coming.

• They talk about everything but the full moon during these tea sessions. Remus asks Y/N about their classes, their hobbies, what books they’ve been reading lately. He tells them funny stories from his time at Hogwarts with his friends, and Y/N finds themselves laughing despite the heaviness in their chest.

• As the hour grows late and the tea cools, there’s a comfortable silence between them. Sometimes Y/N asks Remus how he does it—how he stays so calm before a full moon. Remus admits that he still feels afraid every time, but what helps him is knowing he isn’t facing it alone anymore.

• Before Y/N leaves, Remus always offers a quiet reassurance: “No matter how bad it feels, you’re strong enough to get through this.” He never makes promises it’ll be easy, but he makes sure Y/N knows they aren’t alone.

• From the very first conversation about lycanthropy, Remus quietly commits himself to helping Y/N manage their transformations. He remembers how alone and scared he felt at their age and is determined to give them the guidance he never had.

• Over time, Remus gradually shares little pieces of wisdom about making the transformations easier. It’s never all at once, just a tip here and there—he doesn’t want to overwhelm Y/N, and he knows they need to process it in their own time.

• He starts with the practical things: “A warm bath before the moon helps relax your muscles—it won’t stop the pain, but it’ll make the aftermath a bit easier.” He tells them about the importance of staying hydrated and eating hearty meals in the days leading up to the full moon to keep their strength up.

• One afternoon, as Y/N sits in his office, Remus brings out an old journal—his own, filled with decades of notes about transformations, potions, and techniques that have helped him cope. He gives it to Y/N, telling them it’s theirs to borrow and add to if they find anything new that works for them.

• He introduces them to the calming effects of Wolfsbane Potion, warning them that while it’s helpful, it’s not a perfect solution. “It gives us control, but you’ll still feel the change. The difference is, you’ll remember who you are.”

• Over time, their conversations delve deeper into the emotional and psychological side of being a werewolf. Remus teaches Y/N how to prepare mentally for the transformation—meditation, focusing on their breath, and, most importantly, accepting what’s happening rather than resisting it.

• “Fighting the change makes it worse,” he says gently one evening. “I used to be terrified every time, which only made the transformation more painful. You have to lean into it, accept that this is a part of who you are. That doesn’t mean it defines you, but it’s something you live with.”

• He’s careful to remind Y/N that no two werewolves experience transformations exactly the same way. “What works for me might not always work for you. It’s okay to experiment and find your own rhythm. You have the time to figure it out.”

• On particularly rough days when Y/N struggles with self-hatred, Remus reminds them that they are not a monster, just a person dealing with a difficult condition. “I’ve been where you are. I’ve seen the worst parts of myself during the transformation, but it doesn’t take away from who we are the rest of the time.”

• Slowly, Y/N begins to implement his advice. Some nights are still hard—nothing can completely remove the pain of the full moon—but knowing Remus has spent years refining these methods and that they’re working together to make it more bearable gives Y/N a new sense of hope.

• Over time, Y/N starts feeling more prepared, more capable of facing the transformations, and it’s all thanks to the wisdom, patience, and care that Remus shares with them.

• Y/N wakes up in the hospital wing after one of the most painful full moons they’ve ever experienced. Their body aches in every joint, and the weight of exhaustion is almost suffocating. Bandages cover the worst of their self-inflicted wounds, and they feel utterly broken—both physically and emotionally.

• When they open their eyes, the first thing they see is Remus sitting at their bedside. He’s been there since early morning, keeping a quiet vigil, his face etched with concern. He’s been through enough full moons to recognize the signs of a particularly difficult one, and he knows how much Y/N must be hurting.

• “Good morning,” Remus says softly, giving Y/N a small, gentle smile. “How are you feeling?”

• Y/N doesn’t respond at first, staring up at the ceiling. The question feels too big. How are they feeling? How can they put into words the frustration, the anger, the sadness that swirls inside of them after another night of losing control?

• “It’s not fair,” Y/N finally whispers, their voice shaky. “No matter how much I prepare… it never gets easier. I thought I was getting better at handling it, but last night—” They trail off, tears threatening to spill. “It was like I was back to square one. It feels like I’ll never get better.”

• Remus shifts in his chair, leaning forward with an understanding look. He’s quiet for a moment, letting Y/N’s words hang in the air. He knows exactly what they’re feeling—he’s been there more times than he can count.

• “I know how heavy this feels,” Remus begins gently, “and it’s okay to feel frustrated, to feel like you’re not making progress. But I want you to know something: every full moon is different. Some are harder than others, even after years of experience. It doesn’t mean you’re failing.”

• Y/N wipes at their eyes, still feeling the weight of disappointment. “It just feels like… I’ll never be normal. That this is always going to control my life.”

• Remus’s expression softens, and he reaches out to place a comforting hand on Y/N’s arm. “I understand. I’ve had those thoughts, too—many times. But ‘normal’ isn’t something we should measure ourselves against. Being a werewolf doesn’t mean you’re less than anyone else, or that your life is defined by these transformations.”

• Y/N shakes their head, still not convinced. “But it’s just so hard. I hurt myself last night. I don’t even remember doing it.”

• “That’s the nature of the curse,” Remus says quietly, his voice steady and kind. “It’s not something you can control completely, no matter how much you prepare. The important thing is that you survived, and you will heal. And you’re not going through this alone.”

• He pauses, making sure Y/N is really hearing him. “I’ve had nights like that, too. Nights where I woke up battered and bruised and felt like I couldn’t keep doing this. But you don’t have to face it with despair. You have people who care about you—myself included—and we will get through these hard nights together.”

• Y/N’s chest tightens at his words, but the knot of hopelessness loosens just a little. “I just don’t want to keep feeling like this,” they murmur, their voice small.

• Remus gives a soft, reassuring smile. “And you won’t. It takes time—sometimes more time than we’d like—but it does get better. Not perfect, but better. You’ve already come so far, Y/N. One hard night doesn’t erase the progress you’ve made.”

• Y/N looks at Remus, tears in their eyes but hope flickering somewhere beneath the pain. They can tell he means every word—that he’s walked this path before, and he’s still here, offering them comfort.

• “You’re stronger than you realize,” Remus says softly. “And no matter how many difficult full moons you face, you will always have the strength to get through them. I’m proud of you for surviving, even when it feels unbearable.”

• Y/N lets out a shaky breath, feeling some of the weight lift from their shoulders. Remus’s presence, his steady belief in them, is like a balm to their fractured spirit.

• “Thank you,” Y/N whispers. “For everything.”

• Remus gives their hand a gentle squeeze. “Always. You’re never alone in this, Y/N. Never forget that.”

[lethesbeastie]

My betta fish, Achilles, passed this morning.

I haven't talked about my fish here much, aside from the occasional shitpost or silly doodle, but they've done a lot for me, especially Achilles.

See, Achilles was the very first fish I bought. I got him back in January of 2023, and as of today I'd had him for almost two years. I know that might not seem like much, but Achilles was a petstore betta— their lives tend to be short due to shitty breeding and terrible keeping in corporate locations. I knew going in that, as hardy as betta can be, there was a chance I'd fuck things up and lose him if I wasn't careful.

I've had a lot of experience losing pets. Like a lot of kids who get into exotic animal keeping, I started with lizards I caught in my backyard as a child and worked my way upwards through various "beginner" pets that I usually took in from family after their care became too burdensome for them. I loved those animals, but I'm not going to lie and say that I didn't fail them more often then not. I had mental health issues and school and grew negligent with cleaning tanks. After I lost my leopard gecko Lillian back in 2020, I decided I wasn't going to keep anything until I had the mental capacity to care for it properly. I didn't have the time to anyway; I was going to college and couldn't exactly keep a pet in the dorms.

I tried other things in the meantime. Threw myself into art even more, got into dnd, tried (and failed) at making terrariums with moss. I got better mentally, then had to live at home after freshman year of college and got worse.

Eventually, I realized I was getting a lot worse, and that I needed something to focus on to drag me out of it. I needed something I could care for, but that I could set up in a way that it would be able to sustain itself if I fell off mentally again. I started getting into terrariums once more, then isopods. I came across Serpadesign on YouTube, fell in love with the notion of building vivariums. And through that, I discovered a newfound desire to keep fish.

I do not want to prop up stereotypes: fish are not "easy" pets, no matter what petstores tell you. I did not go into fishkeeping because I wanted to put an animal in a bowl. I got into fishkeeping because I saw that it was possible to create a self sustaining ecosystem at an accessible size if I was willing put in the proper work. And god, I was willing to put in the work. I spent months scouring the aquascaping community on YouTube for tutorials and process videos, did research into the best types of fish for small tanks and the most ethical ways to keep them. I had spare tanks from my old reptile keeping days that I could easily repurpose for fishkeeping, and I spent every spare penny from Christmas and birthdays on buying up hardscape and natural decor.

And one day, while browsing my local petsmart, I saw Achilles.

I loved him the second I saw him, the moment I picked up his little cup and was greeted with the most indignant stare. He flared at me, which I'd never seen a betta do in a cup before. I was enamored, decided that I had to take him home.

I bought him on impulse, which wasn't the smartest thing to do. I didn't have a tank set up yet. I just knew I had the supplies and that I could make an early setup safer by dosing beneficial bacteria to jumpstart the nitrogen cycle. My first tank wasn't as naturalistic as I'd hoped, but it was functional, and I knew I could add more plants as time went on and Achilles settled.

Like I said, it's been almost two years. I've gone from keeping an underwhelming five gallon with gravel to several fully furnished naturalistic tanks with riparium plants for additional biological filtration. I still make mistakes now and then, since fishkeeping is a continuous learning process, but I've been able to provide my fish a home that sustains them naturally, and I have aspirations to build more tanks when finances and time allow.

None of this would've happened without Achilles. I would never have had the courage to do this if I hadn't fallen in love with the silly betta I found that day in 2023. He's been a constant friend, a source of joy, and a reason for me to keep going.

I'm going to miss him very, very much. But I can take heart in the fact that he brought me into a hobby I loved. Sparked a passion that will stay with me for life. Feel proud of the fact that I gave him an enjoyable life for the time in which he shared my home.

Achilles inspired one of my favorite creative writing pieces I did last year, so I'll share that here in his honor. It's called Betta Splendens, it's about fish, petstores, and the existential dread of living in late-stage capitalism as a disabled person.