#Lowes Cooking Grid
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preqwells · 3 months ago
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downtime | logan howlett x reader
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summary: logan had been meaning to show you the wooden cabin he'd visit when given the time— he didn't anticipate how enraptured he'd be with the the absence of chaos in his life
cw: slightly suggestive
domesticity looked good on logan in your eyes.
chopping wood for the fire you two would burn at night, making sure the weeds didn't interfere with the tomatoes you had been growing, and sometimes even fishing despite his lack of patience for it. his jeans hung low around his waist, hair speckled across his chest through his open-collared shirt—you had to admit, you liked this side of him. you two had decided you wanted to get away for a while since logan wasn't particularly needed at the moment. he had been wanting to show you the cabin he frequented when he wasn’t busy, daydreaming to himself with the thought of what your reaction would be to it. you weren't surprised at the nature of the wooden cabin. it was secluded and neatly tucked away in a corner of a vast forest that no one would dare to enter unless they were in for a rude awakening. maybe you were kidding yourself with the idea that you two might be able to go off-grid for a while, but it was a thought you both were willing to entertain.
you smiled to yourself as your eyes tore away from the much-welcomed sight of your boyfriend leaning back on the couch, hulking thighs spread as his head lolled back. your attention trailed back to the deer he had caught earlier in hopes you could do something with it. "should i slow-cook it? maybe even make it into a pot roast?" you suddenly spoke up from the kitchen, your lips pursed in thought as a lighthearted scoff left him, his eyebrow quirking up for a moment. "askin' the wrong person. never been known to be much of a chef, sweetheart." he gruffed out, too tired to allow his eyes to roll into the back of his head at the thought of even picking up on anything remotely related to cooking. "mm, you're right," you said through a small chuckle, your eyes still examining the raw meat, "could always just set up the grill out back. chop it up, make 'em into kebabs… but we don't have any skewers. if only there was something that we could use…" you playfully trailed off as you pressed your index finger to your lower lip as if conjuring a thought. logan quickly caught onto the fact that you were talking about using his claws as kebab skewers to which he shook his head in response, shooting you an amused glance.
he rose to his feet, floorboards groaning under his weight with each movement. "ha-ha, you're hilarious. damn near a comedian." he retorted as he made his way to you, placing his empty beer bottle on the counter before his arms wrapped around you, giving you a small squeeze. his front pressed to your back, your heart fluttering at the sudden contact. the contours of his muscles molded into your frame nicely, warmth emanating from him as his breath fanned against the nape of your neck. "well… i was thinking about signing up for the local comedy club. could be my big breakthrough, y'know?" you sighed in faux contemplation as you felt the softness of his lips pepper kisses from your nape to your pulse-point, his hands lingering on your waist. his thumbs found the belt loops in your jeans, tugging on them absentmindedly. "y'right, bet the squirrels and mornin' birds would love to hear the material you been practicin' on me." he murmured into your skin, eyes fluttering shut as he deeply inhaled your scent. seeing as how sensitive he was to scents, there were lots of scents he couldn't stand. hated the smell of gasoline, hated any kind of gaudy perfume— if he thought about it for too long, his nose would probably scrunch up out of disgust. yet he was particularly fond of your scent, fresh linen and cotton. your scent was as pleasing as your personality. you were good for logan. kind, compassionate— you smoothed out his rough edges. god knew he had too many.
domesticity looked good on you in logan's eyes. the wood you'd carry to the fire pit for your late-night chats recounting the events of the day, the tomatoes you'd complain about that wouldn't ripen and sometimes even fall off too early from local wildlife taking their swipes at it, and your insistence on him learning some proper patience for fishing since you still had a taste for wild-caught salmon. his hands found the hem of your flannel, sliding under the fabric as his fingertips grazed the softness of your skin, traveling down past your navel. warmth flooded your cheeks as a sheepish smile played at the corners of your lips, your hands on the counter to brace yourself. "logan— logan! i still have to marinate the meat." you hastily whispered before a breathy moan escaped you as his tongue rolled over your skin, teeth nipping at the crook of your neck. "mmm, don't worry 'bout it." he spoke into your neck before gently lifting you onto the counter, his eyes filled with affection. he didn't know how it happened, honestly. couldn't pinpoint it even if he tried to recall what you did that caused him to be so smitten with you. he quietly admired you for a few moments, taking in how hues of orange from the sun setting filtered through the window and cascaded onto the side of your face, his hand raising to cup the swell of your cheek. you didn't know it, but logan had made a quiet vow to himself to do everything in his power to make sure you were safe, in this life and the next.
he'd show you tonight how much he adored you, in more ways than just one.
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beah388love · 3 months ago
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What’s for dinner?
Full Masterlist Lando Norris Masterlist
Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!reader
Summary: lando does the “what’s for dinner bitch?” Prank on you
Warnings: swearing, bad language, yelling!!! (Please tell me if I missed any?!!!)
Lando had seen a new trending prank on tiktok and he never really liked pranking you but he wanted to see your reaction for this prank. The bf would go up to his gf and ask “what’s for dinner bitch?” And he wanted to see how you’d react, he was a little scared since you never really got mad or angry but he has seen a couple times and when you do get mad you get mad.
Lando set up the camera and his it behind a pan on the kitchen side, you hadn’t noticed him walk in yet but he could see you cooking dinner and cutting up vegetables.
The smell of whatever you was making was heavenly, lando took a breath and gave a cheeky smile to the camera.
Lando built up the courage and said it “what’s for dinner bitch?” He said quite harshly and you lifted your head slowly not looking over to him, you set down the knife in your hand and tilted your head at him.
Max who was sat on the sofa on his phone also looked over at lando confused and looks over to you awkwardly until he remembered the trending prank on tiktok.
“What did you just call me?” You asked raising an eyebrow and he gulped fidgeting with his hand.
“I said you’re a bitch” lando said rudely again still trying his hardest not to break character and apologise to you and kiss you all over there and then.
You looked at him with furrowed brows and he rolled his eyes at you “where’s my fucking dinner? I’m hungry!” Lando yelled at you and you scoffed.
“Don’t fucking talk to me like that!” You yelled back and threw the tea towel in your hand at him before walking out the room angrily and slamming your bedroom door.
“Dude…your in deep shit” max said as he leaned over the sofa looking over at your now locked bedroom door, lando bit back a laugh as he quickly turned off his phone. Max took a photo of lando who gave him a cheeky grin and posted it onto his insta story.
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maxfewtrell added to his story
User1: what happened why’s he a bad bf?!
User2: WHATD I MISS?!
User3: check landos tiktok
Maxverstappen1: what did you do…
Maxverstappen1: you’re in trouble.
User4: LMAO
oscarpiatri: I could feel her glare through the screen.
Lewishamilton: this is why I get scared to race her…
User5: NOT THE WHOLE ASS GRID BEING SCARED OF HER
User6: LANDO UR SO MEAN
User7: I CANT BELIEVE HE DID THE PRANK
User8: HE BETTER NOT HAVE CHEATED ON OUR Y/N
“Baby? Babe…open the door!” Lando said with a teasing smirk as he pulled on the door handle.
“Baby..?” Lando said more serious and not with a playful and teasing grin.
“Y/n? Open the door.” He said again as he knocked on the door loudly all whilst max watched from leaning on the sofa.
“Y/n. Baby? Please open the door! It was a prank! I didn’t mean it! I swear- it was just for a tiktok-“ Lando was cut off by the door unlocking and your arm sticking out with a pillow.
“What’s that for?” Lando asked confused
“It’s for you. You’re sleeping on the sofa.” You said sternly as you pushed the pillow into his arms before shutting and locking the door again.
Max pursed his lips with a ‘ooh your in trouble’ look and lando sighed throwing his head back.
Lando walked over to max with his head hung low and max couldn’t help his laughs.
“It’s not funny.” Lando glared with a pout as he threw his pillow on the sofa and laid down, “your in the doghouse man” max teased and lando rolled his eyes.
“I regret making doing that stupid tiktok.” Lando pouted and max smirked at his small pout.
“At least you know she wouldn’t let you call her a bitch?” Max said poking fun and lando glared at him.
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maxfewtrell added to his story
User1: Lando what did you do?!
User2: omg I just saw his TikTok-
User3: she’s scary when she’s mad.
User4: you deserve it tbh
Maxverstappen1: you deserve it man
Georgerussel: it was too much for little lando Norris
User5: LMAOOO
User6: NJSIWHSJAKK
Lando shuffled on the sofa the whole night, max had left to go into his bed and lando glared at him jealously.
Lando has fallen asleep for abt two minutes before waking up again, he couldn’t fall asleep without you in his arms or next to him. He missed feeling your feet touching his or hearing your breathing or feeling your hair touch his chest.
He huffed as he got up walking tiredly towards your door with his pillow in his arms. He knocked but the door opened from his touch…it was unlocked?
He walked in quietly and smiled when he saw you passed out on your bed hugging your pillow, lando carefully climbed in next to you but unfortunately for him it woke you up “mh…” you groaned and stirred “sh..sh baby..go back to sleep” Lando said as he pulled the pillow from your grip and put it under your head and instead snuggled you into his arms.
Placing kisses on your head and you sighed in relief “I love you…” you mumbled making him smile “I love you too” he whispered back as he pressed a long kiss to your temple.
“I’m still mad at you…” you mumbled again and he smirked at you, you was half awake but still held a grudge.
“I know. I deserve it” lando grinned as he rested his head in your neck breathing in contently.
“You know I would never call you a bitch for real though right?” Lando asked you in a serious tone and you nodded into his chest “I know lan” you smiled as he stroked his fingers up and down your back.
“Good.”
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gguk-n · 2 months ago
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Heart On The Grid (Min Yoongi x Sebastian Vettel's God Daughter!Reader)
Series Masterlist
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Y/N was Sebastian Vettel's God Daughter. It came with a lot of benefits; like she practically grew up in racing. She was karting by the time she was 3 and winning races by the time she was 5. She wanted to be like Beb, she could't pronounce his name properly yet but Sebastian was and is her biggest inspirations. That's how she ended up on the paddock. All the drivers would fret and coo over her. She had the entire grid wrapped around her finger. The drivers would be at her beck and call; if Y/N was hot and uncomfortable they had ice and cold juices and ice-cream ready for her, if Y/N was cold, they would either remove their own sweaters or have an extra pair for her ready. She wasn't only her dad's princess but the entire Formula One's driver line ups.
She would interrupt most drivers during their media interviews who would just smile at her, lift her up and continue on with their interview as if it was the most natural thing. You would find a lot of old interviews of drivers with baby Y/N in their arms but as soon as she would spot her Beb, she would scream for him to come over and take her. Most drivers didn't let her off with a bit of a fight with Sebastian since they wanted to hold her. She was smart, she would talk to them like her parents talked to her; "Nando, I'm going with Beb now. I'll be okay. You do questions and then we can tuddle" she would explain slowly climbing into Sebastian arms who would be smirking at Fernando who was glaring at him.
Whenever she would be gone for school or her karting races, the paddock felt empty. There weren't random stickers stuck to their cars or extra ice-creams lying around. Even the interviewers would miss her since she would give an interview with Sebastian during media day. But most of all, Sebastian would miss his tiny shadow.
Sebastian would try to be there for her karting races as much as he could and she would always talk about Sebastian when she would be interviewed on who was her favourite driver. "So, Y/N, can you tell us who your favourite driver is?" the child interviewer asked. "It's Mark Webber, don't tell Sebastian though" she would tease while looking at him. Sebastian never took it too seriously, what pained him was she was growing up and had out grown her Beb. She wouldn't be as overtly affectionate as she was.
As she grew older, her visits to the paddock decreased with school and her interest shifting from racing to academics and then she started university. It was in University when she was pursuing her masters when she met Yoongi on her exchange programme in Seoul, South Korea. She had gone there to earn a new experience and returned with the sweetest boyfriend. Back then BTS had just started finding their footing in the industry and breaking out even in the west. With all the dating issue in K-Pop and with both their busy schedules, they kept their relationship on the down low. Sebastian was just happy his god-daughter hadn't bought some random man home.
Until one fateful day, Y/N had invited everyone to her house. Her reasoning; she wanted them to meet someone special. Both her father and Sebastian were dreading the day. Y/N cheerfully greeted her parents and Sebastian and his wife, Hannah. Her mother and Hannah were thrilled to hear that she was dating someone; and said someone was currently in the kitchen preparing the dinner. "He cooks?" her mother whispered looking at the man in the kitchen's back. "yes" she smiled looking at Yoongi lovingly. "You guys should sit down" she commented pointing at the sofa. Yoongi came out of the kitchen and greeted everyone. Sebastian and her dad were eyeing the poor boy like he had committed arson. "Hello sir. It's nice to meet you" he greeted her father. "I'm a huge fan, nice to meet you sir" Yoongi said shaking Sebastian's hand who had a vice grip on his but Yoongi just smiled and stood there.
The dinner began with out a hitch until they started interrogating Yoongi and the moment he said he lived in Seoul, you could hear the wheels in their head rotating; "Our Y/N isn't moving to Seoul. It's too far away. You can't have her, sorry, but she's ours." the two men screamed. "I'm no ones" Y/N said exasperated. "She's an adult darling, she knows what she's doing" her mother interjected. "But...but" her father tried to reason while Sebastian was shut up by his wife with a glare from across the table.
They finished the dinner without anymore interruptions. "Sir" Yoongi began looking at her father, Y/N was busy catching up with Hannah to notice, "I promise to take good care of her. She is the most important thing to me in my life. I promise to always make her happy and never let her cry. I really love your daughter. Will you let me marry her?" he asked. Both of the men sighed, they looked at each other before her father started speaking; "We can't tell her what to do, but if you really mean everything you said, then we will support her. But if you do anything to hurt her" "I will run you over with my car" Sebastian cut him off. Yoongi smiled, "Never, wouldn't even dream of it" he said.
Once everyone had filed out, at the door her father hugged her and whispered in her ear, "He's okay I guess." he lamented. "I wished you dated someone I knew so I could keep an eye on him but he's okay too I guess" Sebastian said begrudgingly as he hugged her good-bye.
Y/N had gone to South Korea to see Yoongi off for his military enlistment. It was the night before he was supposed to start and the pair were laying in each others embrace as Y/N peppered kissed once in a while across his face. "I love you" she stated. "I love you too" he replied suddenly sitting up. "Y/N, you make me the happiest I've ever been. I didn't think someone else could make me feel this way other than music. Will you do me the honour and marry me?" he asked now on his knee. She was in tears and could only nod. Yoongi slipped the beautiful ring on her finger and pecked her lips. "I love you. Can't wait to spend forever with you" he stated in her embrace. "me neither" she hummed as they stayed like that for a little longer since when the sun rose Yoongi would be gone, fulfilling his duty.
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ladydigianna · 1 month ago
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shattered promises || lh44 x reader
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|| pairings: lewis hamilton x reader, platonic f1 grid x reader
|| angst
|| from the author: read angst hcs of f1 so i had to write one please remember this is just fictional, a work of my imagination
-fic under the cut-
The family home buzzed with chatter and laughter, the scent of home-cooked meals filling the air as everyone gathered for yet another event—one of many you’d grown used to over the years. Normally, these events made you feel content, like you belonged to something stable, a network of love that kept you grounded. You found comfort in them, and in Lewis, who stood beside you. His hand rested at the small of your back as you mingled with relatives, the familiar warmth of his touch steadying you.
But tonight was different. There was an undercurrent of tension you couldn’t quite place, a gnawing discomfort that tugged at your chest the longer the evening stretched on. Every so often, you caught your sister casting glances at Lewis—glances that felt too intimate, too knowing. At first, you brushed it off. You trusted them both implicitly; after all, your sister was family, and Lewis was the love of your life. The man who whispered sweet promises of forever in your ear on quiet nights, the man who made you feel like you were his world.
But something was wrong. You could feel it in the way Lewis’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes whenever he looked at you, or in the way your sister seemed nervous, her laughter too forced when they interacted. The uneasy feeling festered as the night wore on, growing harder to ignore.
It all came to a head when you excused yourself from a conversation with some cousins, needing a moment to breathe and collect your racing thoughts. As you walked down the hallway, seeking a quiet corner of the house, you heard it. Muffled voices. The soft murmur of your sister’s voice, mixed with Lewis’s low, frantic tones.
You froze, heart hammering in your chest as you stood just outside the door. You knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but something kept you rooted to the spot. You couldn’t stop yourself.
“Lewis, we can’t do this,” your sister’s voice whispered urgently, panic clear in her tone. “It was a mistake.”
“I know, I know,” Lewis replied, his voice strained. “It was a one-time thing. We were drunk, we weren’t thinking… but we can’t let her find out.”
Her. You.
The words hit you like a sledgehammer, and the air seemed to vanish from your lungs. Your mind raced, a sickening realization dawning on you as the blood rushed in your ears. You felt your knees wobble, the floor beneath you seeming to fall away as the betrayal washed over you in suffocating waves.
You pushed the door open, your hands trembling. Their heads snapped toward you, faces drained of color as they registered your presence. Your sister’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Lewis stepped forward, panic and guilt written all over his face.
“Y/N…,” he began, his voice shaking. “Please, let me explain.”
Your throat burned as you tried to speak, but the words got stuck. Tears welled up in your eyes, hot and unstoppable, as you took in the sight of them together. Your sister—the person you had grown up with, confided in, trusted more than anyone else in the world. And Lewis, the man who had sworn he would never hurt you.
“How could you?” you finally choked out, voice breaking. “Both of you? My own sister, and you… Lewis, how could you do this to me?”
Your sister’s face crumpled as she stepped forward, reaching out, her voice trembling. “Y/N, it was a mistake, I swear. We were drunk, it didn’t mean anything. Please—”
“Stop,” you spat, taking a step back, your chest heaving with sobs you could no longer hold back. “Don’t say another word. Don’t try to justify it. You both knew what you were doing. Drunk or not, you knew.” You turned to Lewis, the hurt in your eyes piercing through the fog of shock that clouded your mind. “You promised me,” you whispered, voice hoarse. “You said I was your forever. Was that a lie too?”
Tears filled Lewis’s eyes as he reached out for you, desperation clawing at his every word. “No, it wasn’t. Please, Y/N, it was one mistake. One night. I was drunk—I wasn’t thinking. But I love you. I love you more than anything in this world.”
But his words fell on deaf ears. Your heart was shattered, and all you could think of was getting away. You couldn’t stand to be in the same room with them, couldn’t bear to hear any more lies. Without another word, you turned and bolted out of the house, ignoring their frantic calls as you fled into the night, tears blinding your vision.
The cool night air hit you like a slap to the face, but it did nothing to calm the storm raging inside you. You didn’t know where you were going; all you knew was that you needed to run, to escape the crushing weight of their betrayal. Your legs carried you down the street, feet pounding against the pavement as sobs wracked your body.
“Y/N!” Lewis’s voice rang out behind you, growing closer as he chased after you, his footsteps echoing against the empty street. “Please, don’t leave! Let me explain! I can’t live without you. I love you, please… don’t go.”
But you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. His words only fueled your pain, making it harder to breathe. “Stay away from me!” you screamed, your voice breaking as your tears blurred everything around you. You were so lost in your grief that you didn’t see the car speeding down the road, didn’t hear the blaring horn until it was too late.
The impact came with a sickening thud, and the world went dark.
Lewis watched in horror as your body crumpled to the ground, his mind struggling to process what had just happened. Time seemed to freeze as he stood there, paralyzed with shock.
“No… no, no, no,” he whispered, rushing to your side. His hands trembled as he gathered your limp body into his arms, blood seeping into the pavement beneath you. “Please, no. Please don’t do this. Y/N, wake up. Wake up, please,” he begged, tears streaming down his face as he cradled you. “I wasn’t able to make it right. Let me tell her I love her one last time. I know I never deserved her, but why take her away? Why now?”
His words echoed into the night, but there was no answer. Only the silence of the empty street and the cold, lifeless body of the woman he loved more than anything.
The day of your funeral was dreary, the sky gray and overcast, as if the world itself mourned your loss. The church was packed with family, friends, and the entire F1 grid, but the air was thick with anger and blame. Lewis stood at the back, his face pale and gaunt, hollowed out by grief. His eyes, red and swollen from sleepless nights and endless tears, scanned the crowd, but no one would meet his gaze.
As the service ended, the drivers gathered around your grave, their faces hard with fury. Fernando Alonso was the first to approach him, his hand clenched into a fist.
“This is your fault,” Fernando hissed, his voice low and venomous before his fist connected with Lewis’s jaw, sending him stumbling backward. “You killed her.”
Lewis didn’t even fight back. The pain of the punch was nothing compared to the weight of his guilt. He barely reacted as the other drivers closed in, their faces a mix of rage and disgust. Max Verstappen, Sergio Pérez, Lando Norris, Charles Leclerc—they all looked at him as though he were the lowest form of life.
“Stay away from her grave,” Oscar Piastri snarled, shoving Lewis back. “You don’t deserve to be here.”
Lewis stood there, unable to move, unable to defend himself as the drivers took turns spitting their anger at him. He didn’t blame them. He deserved every word, every blow. He had failed you in the worst possible way.
Your friends, Lily Muni He, Alexandra Saint Mleux, Kika Gomes, Flavy Barla, and Kelly Piquet, stood off to the side, their eyes filled with contempt as they hurled insults at him and your sister.
“You’re disgusting,” Kika spat, her eyes blazing with hatred. “How could you do this to her? She loved you.”
“And you,” Lily said, glaring at your sister, her voice trembling with fury. “How could you betray her like that? You’re her sister!”
Your family wasn’t any more forgiving. Your mother, her face streaked with tears, approached Lewis as they lowered your coffin into the ground. She slapped him across the face, her sobs tearing through the quiet.
“Why are you here?” she screamed, her voice hoarse with grief. “Go away! You have no right to be here!”
Your father turned on your sister, his face twisted with rage. “How dare you show your face here?” he growled. “You are no child of mine.”
The weight of their anger and blame was suffocating, but Lewis couldn’t leave. He couldn’t tear himself away from your grave, from the last place he would ever see you. He had lost everything—his love, his future, his world.
In the end, he stood alone, surrounded by the wreckage of his choices. You were gone, and no amount of apologies or tears could bring you back. He had destroyed the one good thing in his life, and now he would have to live with that guilt for the rest of his days.
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crazy-only · 5 months ago
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the grid meeting your parents ! (fluff)
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pairing: f1driver (hamilton, norris, piastri, russell, tsunoda, verstappen) x reader
premise: how six f1 drivers would interact with your parents ! (fluff, fluff, fluff, and more fluff)
preface: YOU GUYS ARE SO SWEET AHHHH like seriously i don’t understand how im getting this much love just writing my horny/love-deprived thoughts but nonetheless i’m close to tears ╥﹏╥ thank you !! anyways who should i write for next ? a pt. 2 with the other drivers ? enjoy <3
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hamilton
babe would be experienced with this, know all the right things to say, and when to just nod and pretend like he agrees with your parents. even though he’s been through the same motions of ‘meeting the parents’ a few times before, he knows you’re the right one for him, so lewis will take this opportunity seriously.
that means bringing bags of designer clothes, perhaps a watch for the dad, and, of course, an expensive bottle of wine (he still hasn’t disclosed the price to you (。ŏ_ŏ)). your boy’s classy and will match his attire to yours. and maybe get your mom to crush a bit on your mans as well. but don’t worry, boy is loyal!
✦✦✦✦
norris
aww i think bby acts confident about these sorts of things in front of friends, but when it’s just the two of you, he shrivels in your lap, anxious at the mere thought of meeting your parents.
he doesn’t want it to go wrong! he needs you for the rest of his life, so he spends days before the actual event asking you what your parents’ interests are, things they would ask on the big day—lando panics big time. and on the day he actually meets the parents, he realizes it was all worth it, because now he can spend the rest of his life with you! (*ˇωˇ*)
✦✦✦✦
piastri
okay this boy knows his personality is special. he knows he can’t exactly be as straightforward as he would prefer to be because there’s a big chance your parents would take it the wrong way. so, as he gauges your parents’ tolerances to sarcasm, jokes, etc., he grows more confident. at first, baby will be quiet, but with time you’ll be dragging oscar away from your parents just because they can’t stop talking so much!
✦✦✦✦
russell
similar to hamilton, this man is ✧classy✧ and makes sure it seems that way. whether it’s a casual dinner or a barbecue, george dresses up in a suit, all pretty, because he wants your parents to know he’s serious! don’t take him wrong though, he’s not afraid to get on his knees to help your parents out. sink is broken? baby is inside the cabinet fixing the faucet as we speak. need more charcoal? he’s already gone back to the gas station to pick a bag up (he’s an f1 driver, i mean what’d you expect?). and don’t worry about if your parents approved of him or not, he’s got ‘em asking when he’s coming back!
✦✦✦✦
tsunoda
aw yuki would be so shy meeting your parents. his relationship with them would be more sweet than anything. less chatting, more jokes! if he burnt the dinner he was supposed to cook for your parents (low chances, but bear with me), yuki would be close to tears. he takes it very seriously!
thankfully your family would laugh it off, and yuki would start laughing as well. if the power went out, jokes would float around the dark room and your parents would see how much he cares about you as he grabs blankets and tea for you. (≧﹏ ≦)
✦✦✦✦
verstappen
baby could simply care less about your parents. all he wants at the end of the day is to be with you. his heart only wants you! how can you blame him? ( > < ) for this reason he tolerates your parents. if they happen to be nice, then he’ll get along great! if they’re not his style, he’ll still pretend like they saved his cats from a near-death experience (eating the wrong cat food).
as long as he has you, max can meet a hundred sets of rude parents and still be happy. <3
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sainzsiren · 5 months ago
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"heavenly"
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pairing... dr3 x reader
now playing... heavenly by cigarettes after sex
summary... everything little danny does that makes your lives sweeter
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we all know daniel is the best
he is such a ray of sunshine and takes pride in being your favorite boy
he melts when you call him things like that
"baby"
"my boy"
"my love"
"sweet boy"
he also likes when you call him danny, daniel is a little too formal for his taste
you've been with him throughout all the low points in his career
when his monaco win was taken from him
when he was hopping from team to team
and he appreciates so much for that
sometimes he comes up to you and just holds you, savoring the moment because he cares about you so much
daniel also thanks you our of nowhere for just being with him
"thank you baby" "for what?" "everything"
he is the biggest softie at home, and throughout your relationship he has softened up in public too
he is unashamed to be looking for you after a race and the team is used to him having an arm around you or his hand in yours in the garage
he loves taking you to races and showing you off because all that beauty is all his
at home, he just likes to be with you
he helps while you cook, sits with you while you answer emails, and especially loves to follows you around while you get ready
he loves watching you make yourself feel beautiful, but if you ever felt like you weren't naturally the most stunning person in the world, he fixes that pretty quick
he especially likes watching you get ready for date nights
he gets almost giddy when you're almost ready because he just loves every second of being with you
the entire grid knows how obsessed he is with you
teasing comments are often left on both of your instagrams whenever you post together
if you're ever not at a race, at least twelve out of the other nineteen drivers ask where you are
his absolute favorite thing is telling you how in love with you he is
telling you he loves you works too, but there's something more special about telling you he's in love with you
he tells you on the phone when you're apart
while you're watching a movie
when you're on your way to work
when you're walking through the city after a date
he just loves to love you because of the person you are
danny also loves to give you little gifts
you're running out of an expensive product? there's a replacement in the bathroom in a couple days
you look at a dress for a little too long in a store? it shows up in your closet
going on vacation? why not go on a little shopping spree before?
he just wants you to fee as heavenly as he sees you
it makes him so happy living with you and doing the little things together
doing laundry and dishes can become bearable with him near
and coming home to you gives him the most irreplaceable feeling of trust, commitment, and passion
181 notes · View notes
oh-babylove · 3 months ago
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~7k. copia/f!reader. explicit. established relationship, smut, filth and fluff. copia does date night, and you show him your appreciation-- it's only fair. mdni.
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thanks to @copia for showing me how to put images in a grid-- top right image by instagram user susitse.art. @enjoy-my-swearing and @photiniainsummer, this one's for you. <3
when the red comes over you - ao3
rhrn spoilers. blowjobs, masturbation, dirty talk, light degradation, a small piece of light cum kink, a touch of hanky-panky in public, some thigh riding, face-fucking, fluff, tw: references to past sexual assault/dubious consent/sexual trauma
You’re holding the same pole on the subway car as Copia, his gloved hand over yours, swaying with him, forced into his space by the crowd. It gives you an excuse to stand close to him, in the circle of his scent like cold smoke. You're not complaining– well, not much. Keeping your balance is a bit of a challenge– you aren't used to doing this in heels, even these modest Cuban heels. Riding the subway truly is riding, the rhythmic thrum of the rails swaying up your body, through the balls of your feet. Riding the train feels like riding a living thing.
“I like this,” you say, as if coming to a decision.
“Hnn?” Copia replies, raising an eyebrow as he looks down at you.
“Riding the train. I like it.” You lean in to murmur in his ear, not that you have far to go. It’s a matter of tilting your head until you can feel the warmth of his skin against your cheek. “But I’d like riding you even more.” It’s just the kind of cheesy nonsense that you’re both into.
Your body keeps brushing against his– a particularly hard bump has your belly pressed against his erection, and his choked-off gasp scores a direct hit to your brain stem, bypassing your ears, cinching something tight around your diaphragm. His hand tightens on your hip, possessive. Holding you up, keeping your balance.
“You little minx,” he hisses, frustrated--with a ragged edge of delight. “You wait till I get you home.”
“You caint blame that on me, now, that was the train,” you say, but you're close to laughing, yourself. You can hear your accent getting thicker, but damned if you can stop it. Besides, Copia loves it, loves ruffling your feathers enough that he can get you to slide back into that slurring hillfolk drawl. Someday he might even make you less self-conscious about it. 
Truth be told, you’ve been practically vibrating since before you left the apartment, restless and swollen between the legs, a low-grade ache that Copia has not been helpful with.
(The apartment. Your apartment. Yours, plural, now, you think. You’d never been a co-religionist of his, and he’d had a toothbrush at your place for a long time. Then a drawer in your dresser. Then he’d brought over his best frying pan, his best chef knife– simply because he couldn’t stand it, gattina, you cook with that? And now there’s as many of his books as yours on the shelves– shelves you put up with your own hands while he did ‘the heavy lookin’ on.’ His name isn’t on the lease, but he paid the rent for the next two months anyway. In full.
When you tried to fight him on it, he’d just shrugged. “Babydoll, I’ve been here more nights than I haven’t for the last four months, this is just… ehh, consider it backdated, yeah?” He’d kissed your forehead. “We can do half each after that. If you haven’t gotten sick of your dirty old man by then.”
It was hard to argue with that.
Copia kept his room at the Ministry, even after his… promotion. His term as Imperator, he’d decided, would be more hands off. You’d talked about it a little. Mostly in bed, sweaty and spent and a little sticky. “Mister Psaltarian is more than capable of running most of it. The administrative things. I’m better with the ghouls, I think, but there’s Kevin, and Ashley, they have it well in hand. I want the new guy to– to be able to be his own man, yeah? I’ll show him the ropes, of course, answer any questions he has, but he doesn’t need me looking over his shoulder all the damn time.”
The new guy. Hell of a way to refer to his long-lost brother. “And you ain’t ready to be around him twenty-four seven just yet.”
“...And that. Yes.” He was quiet for a moment. “You’re too perceptive, gattina. Keep it up and I’ll have to fuck you again, till you don’t think so good.”
“So… you sayin’ you gone fuck my brains out? Say, you ever notice that your man Psaltarian loses his train of thought whenever Kevin comes into the room?”
“That’s it, back in the handcuffs with you. And remember, you brought this on yourself.”)
As ever, he’d insisted on doing your makeup. (It should have been your first clue that you were in for it.) It only makes sense-- he’s better at it than you’ve ever been, and he loves doing it. You love it, too, if you’re honest. He had to take his gloves off for it, to hold your chin firmly and keep you in place. It was terribly intimate, his breath ghosting over your lips, the skin of his hand against your cheek. His quiet, gentle command held something still in the center of you, made it sing like a struck tuning fork– a calm vibration that sank into your bones. The cool brush of the eyeliner on the delicate skin of your eyelids. How meticulous he’d been, how precise. That calm focus he brings to everything that he cares about. How his whole being focused on that point, painting cat eyes sharp enough to kill a man.
Your lipstick had been worse, barely holding your mouth open, the brush sliding over the curve of your cupid’s bow, stretching out your lower lip ever so slightly. You hadn’t even known they’d made brushes for lipstick. Copia has taught you so many things.
Copia knows just what shades of red match your skin tone, knows just how to bring out the color of your eyes. He knows, too, the best cut of a dress to accentuate your figure, to flatter your curves. This one was lovely, shaping your breasts, with a little bit of flare to the skirt. He bought you this dress, these heels. This lingerie. He’s taught you how to fasten a silk stocking to a garter belt, that the underwear goes on over the garters, not underneath.
He’d taken the liberty of fastening your stockings tonight. “So the back seam is straight, gattina. I know it’s tricky to get right on your own, yes? Let me help.” His hands, his clever fingers, so high up on your thighs, his face level with your pussy.
“Oh yeah, sweetness, you're helping something, alright,” you choked out, a little strangled. 
He must have seen how wet you were already, if the self-satisfied hum he made behind you was any indication. He bit the crease of your ass, just lightly, making a goofy little rawr noise that made you actually giggle.
Embarrassing, the noises he gets out of you.
“You shaved,” he said, and it was supremely gratifying to hear him a little hoarse, himself. 
“Did you wanna do that, too?”
“Hnn. We’d miss our reservation.” He wasn't moving from his place on his knees behind you. “Miss the show.”
“Sound like you're enjoying this show purt’ well,” you said, but you thought it best to step into your underwear, anyway. 
Pain shared is pain lessened, isn't it?
…He didn't need to know that you only kept them on for a couple of minutes, just until you used the bathroom one last time on the way out the door.
You almost never know in advance where exactly Copia will take you when it's his turn to plan date night- generally your only clue is what clothing he picks out for you, how he does your makeup, if makeup is required. You've ranged over the city hitting up obscure museums before, taken tours in the underbelly of the public transportation system, gone to aviaries and magic shops and tiny greenhouses.
(You like to think you hold your own. Dive bars and twenty four hour diners, sidewalk art festivals and night markets, one memorable instance of a graffiti lesson– that had been an unexpected delight. 
Your man can be blisteringly uncool sometimes– most of the time, even– but there's no snobbery in him. No fear, either, not in the way most people are afraid: of embarrassing themselves, saying the wrong thing, of looking like a jackass. He hadn't been good at it, but he threw himself into the attempt wholeheartedly, listened to the man in the baggy jeans with the paint-stained fingers explain technique and theory and the history of the medium with total attention and enthusiasm. 
Never will you reach the bottom of him. His openness and his generosity and his good, good heart.)
Dinner and a show is almost a little pedestrian, for him, but there's comfort in the classics. A bar paneled in blond wood and washed in warm light, specializing in rare vinyls piped in on a very serious sound system as much as the cocktails. 
He’d been very good, kept his knee between yours, but otherwise, hadn’t even tried to put a hand up your skirt– a rarity, with him.  His eyes told a different story, watching you with obvious, predatory hunger. The second time you caught him ogling your cleavage he leaned into it, dragging his eyes salaciously down your body with enough force that you nearly felt his gloves snagging on your skin.
The cheeky motherfucker actually licked his lips at you.
You barked out your unlovely laugh, and the way he grinned took the sting out of the sharp glances cast your way– the aim was to listen to the obscure bossa nova, not to your fellow patrons. Your face was hot. “Ah, gattina, you cannot blame a man for looking. Not when you are as ravishing as that.” It wasn’t helping the heat in your face.
A glance at the mirror over the bar, old and pitted and a little smoky, the perfect self-aware touch of authenticity. You’d never have recognized the woman looking back, not when you first met Copia, this exquisite creature with perfect makeup. Sharp. Sexy. 
You don’t hate it.
“...Y’outdid yourself,” you said, slow. You didn’t look real to yourself, this absolute pinnacle of femininity. Copia’s gaze softened, warmed, less the slavering predator and more– a naked adoration that was hard to look at.
(Of course, neither expression was comparable to the first time he’d put you in an exquisitely tailored three-piece suit. You’d thought the man was going to pass out from how quickly his blood rushed south– but that’s a story for another day.)
He crowded your space, just this side of indecent, his knee halfway between your thighs. Copia fed you little morsels from his own fork of– whatever this was. A vaguely mediterranean inspired amuse-bouche. He took his time with it, making you duck your head while the cool tines slid against your lower lip. You kept his eyes for it, moving slow, relishing the way his mouth hung open. 
It’s a little much, in public, truly.
You weren’t even sure what you were eating, something perfectly balanced with rich cream, phyllo dough, an acidic tang. Spanakopita when it’s got a Michelin star or two, you thought. Copia’s little shudder at your groan of appreciation didn’t escape your notice, but you managed to keep the smugness out of your expression with truly heroic effort. 
From there, it was a short taxi ride with his gloved hand heavy on your knee, Copia keeping up a stream of polite chatter that you barely heard a word of. He’d gotten box seats in a lovely little jewel box of a theatre, for a revival of a classic two-man existential tragicomedy starring a couple of aging comedic actors known for their roles in a cultural zeitgeist film from around the turn of the last century.
It was a good effort, all told, and the actors weren’t bad– they had a chemistry borne out of twenty years of friendship that’s impossible to replicate. But Copia proved that he’s a true and faithful servant of the Devil somewhere around the start of the second act, when he peeled a glove off with his teeth.
Your chest went tight.
No wonder he wanted box seats, you thought, as he settled his hand back on your knee. Like it belonged there, like he had perfect possession of it, every right to edge just under the hem of your skirt. 
(His hands-- you love his hands. He’s self-conscious about the hair on the back of them, the dusting of freckles. Large and well-made and skilled, seeing them is like sharing a secret. A gift. He’s squeamish about textures, too sensitive, the slightest scrape will make him shudder-- and not in a fun way. Sandpaper would be torture. Anything gelatinous is right out. You get used to the constant grime and the vague awareness of filth you get on your hands, living in a city. It’s not so bad, for you, you invest in hand sanitizer and don’t touch your face. It’s the price you pay for living in a place with something like a subway, where things pulse and hum and never truly sleep, to be a microbe in the gut of this beast of a city, to be a tiny cog in the great machine.
You love it here. You didn’t think you would. Hell, you didn’t think you could. “It’s growing on me,” you told Copia one day, cool as you like, as if you weren’t giving anything away. “A little.”
“You have no talent for bullshit, babydoll,” he said, both dry and terribly fond.)
All of your awareness focused on the soft warmth of him enveloping your knee, the rough scrape of his calluses on the inside of your thigh– a new sensation, he’s taken the acoustic guitar back up recently. Not moving, just–holding. 
You kept your eyes forward, and your breathing even.
His thumb slid over your kneecap, absentmindedly tracing little circles. Your legs fell open a little wider, just so your thighs weren’t touching. You were terribly, achingly aware of the air on your cunt.
A soft stroke back and forth, a gesture that could have been reflexive, thoughtless– if it wasn’t for the beatific expression on his face, his eyes forward and too-innocent. It would have been more convincing if he hadn’t been inching his slow way upwards, featherlight touches, tracing up and back down, up and back down. Just a millimeter higher each time. An agonizingly slow drag, a glacial pace.
Your grip tightened on the armrest. 
Copia leaned forward, his breath in your ear. “Why, gattina,” he purred. “I do not think you are even paying attention to the play.”
“You are,” you managed, “a real sunnavbitch, you know it?”
He only chuckled low, and ran his touch to the top of your thigh. The side of his hand brushed up against your wet cunt and you both gasped.
“You little slut,” he hissed, with obvious pride. “So eager for me already.”
He dragged the very tip of one finger up between your lips, so slick it was almost frictionless, pulling away just before he could touch your clit. You took a ragged breath that was nearly a whine, bereft at the loss of his touch. You felt your cunt clench over nothing, an involuntary contraction. 
Copia hummed in mock-sympathy, and took mercy on you, cupping your whole cunt with his broad hand, steady and even pressure that was nowhere near enough, but at least took a little of the edge off. 
His middle finger slid naturally between your labia majora, and settled there, his fingertip crooked so he could just barely feel the inside of you.
The bastard stayed that way for the rest of the performance, sometimes giving you a gentle squeeze, sometimes pulling away to slide his fingertip back up to circle your clit. Just often enough to keep your attention focused where he wanted.
Evil, evil man.
Copia retracted his hand before the lights went up, giving you one final squeeze. He kept your eyes as he brought his hand up to his face, inhaled deeply, and surreptitiously licked his palm before fitting his hand back into his glove for the applause.
“Play weren’t that bad,” you said, weakly. “No call to do- alla that.”
“Oh? Didn’t you tell me you had a crush on the– which was it, the one with the dark hair– as a little girl? You want to wait around, go to the stage door, get an autograph?” All innocence, all the accommodating boyfriend.
“I revise my previous opinion. You are the Lebron James of being a sunnavabitch.” Despite your discomfort in heels, you couldn’t drag him to the train home fast enough.
So now, here you are. You shiver a little, in this hot and humid subway car, remembering. You bite your lip and can taste the wax of your lipstick.
Copia sees it, of course he does, how your eyes go just a little glazed. He smirks a terribly self-satisfied smirk. “Penny for your thoughts?”
“Oh, this’d cost you at least a dollar. Maybe five nintey-nine.”
“Inflation is just outrageous these days. Highway robbery. I’m shocked.”
“Not yet, you aren’t.”
“You are talking a big game, babydoll. Be careful, I think, ehh-- your mouth is writing checks your ass can’t cash.” His hand heavy on your hip, almost indecent. His boot between your shoes, the sweet curve of his thigh displacing your skirt. He’s so close, so warm and solid. The train is packed, but he’s all you can see, all you can feel. His breath in your ear, pitched low. “Your pussy can’t cash.”
It’s all you can do to keep yourself from grinding on his thigh in the middle of the train. “Sweetness,” you croak out. “We’re in public.”
He leans back, conciliatory. Terribly smug. The world fades back in. You catch a teenager in a hoodie smirking at the two of you, a direct and uncomfortable gaze that feels more taboo in this city than even the way your hips keep shifting, restless. You feel almost drunk, stepping into the warmth of his body and his hard cock between your hip and your belly, a little vindictive, relishing his frustrated little grunt in your ear. 
“Two more stops, gattina,” he murmurs, as much for his benefit as yours. You see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “We can make it.”
“Mm-hmm,” you manage. 
He drags you roughly by your elbow off the train, in a way that has your fellow passengers actually making a faint murmur of disapproval at the way he growls. He might be leaving a bruise on your arm. Can’t be helped. You’re laughing up the stairs, your heels loud on the concrete and metal, giddy, just this side of hysterical. 
He’s clumsy with the keys when you get to your apartment building, following you up the stairs so he can look up your skirt. “Can’t believe– I watched you put those on.” 
“You just mad you didn’t get to watch me take ‘em off.”
He’s on your neck like a lamprey when you get to your door, and now it’s your turn to be clumsy while you paw through your purse, his hot wet mouth insistent, just under your ear, his teeth grazing your skin. His hands firm on your breasts, pushing the neckline of your dress down so he can fill his hands with them, gripping almost hard enough to hurt. He’s trapping you against the door, grinding into your ass while you fumble with the lock.
“What’re you– you tryna fuck me in the hallway?” you gasp. He’s reaching up your skirt now, his bare palm at the top of your stocking. When did he take his gloves off?
“I will,” he growls, “if you don’t hurry the fuck up.”
You somehow make it in the door without breaking the key off in the lock, and you give him just enough time to slide the bolt home before you’re shoving him onto the couch. You’re in his lap just as quick, your mouth on his, nearly biting him as he laughs into your mouth. Christ, you didn’t even get out of your heels. 
He’s warm under you, solid muscle under a sweet softness around the middle, and you can’t unbutton his shirt fast enough. His tongue in your mouth is making you clumsy, making it hard to keep track of how buttons work, shorting out basic motor functions. When you make it, you groan at his fur under your palms, and then he shoves his thigh between your legs and you whine when you grind your wet cunt against it. You have to break off from his mouth for it, clinging to his shoulders.
Your lipstick is all over Copia’s face. He’s grinning, rapt, delighted, impossibly fond. The man’s face is so pink it looks like he’s been slapped around. “Good, eh?” He pushes his thigh forward again, his hand up your dress and on your ass. “You like that?” He’s pulling you into it, making you drag your cunt over his tight jeans. The seam running down the front of his thigh hits your clit and you gasp. “So fucking desperate you need to hump my leg, filthy little thing.”
You roll against him once or twice more, because he’s right, it feels so good, those long runner’s thighs, the coiled power of him. That hard muscle and rough fabric against you, his body between your knees, so warm and familiar and beloved.
But his smirk is just a little too smug for your taste, so you have to make yourself stop before you fall too deep into a rhythm. Even if you actually hurt with being so turned on for so long. You get his shirt the rest of the way open, have to bend your head to suck a nipple into your mouth– the terrible brand over his heart level with your eyes– and bite. It’s not hard, but it does raise his back off the couch, and distract him from you eeling down between his legs to kneel on the floor.
“Oh, fuck,” he says, looking down at you, knowing (some of) what you have in mind.
Your hand is on his belt buckle, and the sheer Pavlovian reaction you have to the sound of undoing it with one hand forces you to press your cheek to his thigh and focus on your breathing for a moment.
You laugh, shaky. You left an actual wet spot on his jeans.
Copia’s hand is in your hair, fingernails running along your scalp, soothing, grounding you. “Baby?” he asks. “Babydoll, are you alright? We don’t have to–”
“No.” You catch your breath, look back up at him, and his mismatched eyes go from soft and sweet to almost afraid, when he sees your expression. The hunger there– you could eat him alive. “No, I was just– too turned on, for a second.”
“Oh.” He pets at you again, then his smile turns predatory as he sweeps your hair up in one hand and pulls tight. “Then why don’t you get to sucking my cock, puttana?” 
Just for that, you lean up and bite at his belly, the sweet furry softness just below his navel. You laugh with a mouthful of his flesh at his yelp, how it turns into a groan as you unzip his jeans and take him in hand. 
It isn’t as if you aren’t intimately (haha) familiar with his dick, but it’s always nice to see. You’d called it pretty, the first time you’d slept with him, and it really is an accurate description. (It had been emotional for a great many reasons, but that had touched him in ways he still couldn’t articulate.) Silky soft skin over the hard length of him, his head already shiny with precum. It’s the same color as his lips, under the paint.
“You see what you do to me, gattina?” he murmurs above you. “You wreck me. You’ve ruined me– or at least these pants.”
“It’ll come out in the wash,” you say, and take him into your mouth, slow suction, tasting salt. He fills your mouth, fills your hand, blood-warm and firm in your grip. You watch his eyes when you start to suck him down, loving, as you always do, how in that first moment he looks at you, whimpers at you, like you're breaking his heart. 
You hear the dry click of him swallowing as you pull the soft skin of his cock further towards your mouth, your grip twisting, the slow churn of it. How his veins give under your lips, under your hand. It doesn’t take long to get him slick, the thick ridge of the underside of him heavy on your tongue. The musk of him fills your whole senses, thick and animal and a little gross.
His hips shift, and before you have to pull yourself off of him to tell him to talk, he’s doing what you want. “Look at you,” he breathes, reverent. “You’re so good at this, fucking made for this,” a twitch upwards, a movement too small to be called a thrust, “aren’t you? Born for this, your god made you to suck my cock. My perfect– ohh– perfect little cocksucker. Want it so bad, don’t you?”
His hand is heavy on the back of your skull, pushing you down with that even, steady pressure just how he likes. How you both like. “Don’t worry. I’ll give it to you, give you what you want.” He’s not choking you with it, you have plenty of room to work with your hand. Still, as you take him down further, swallowing around the thick length of him, you feel hot tears running down your cheeks, sheer dumb animal reaction. You slip your other hand to cradle his slick balls, rolling them gently, the weight of them a little cooler than the rest of his body. He makes a strangled noise, an “Ohh fuck, baby, babydoll, so good for me, so good to me, fuck, fuck–!” 
His stutter and his loss of control are just too much, finally, you feel the air of the apartment cool at the top of your slick thighs, your swollen cunt, and you have to do something about it. You take your hand from his balls and slide it up your skirt, slowly enough to feel your silk stockings under your fingertips, slow enough that Copia catches it.
Just as you register how fucking wet you are, his eyes go wide and his hips shudder, the smooth hot head of his cock hitting the back of your throat. 
Your grip tightens on the base of his cock, a warning. You freeze, staring blank and unseeing at his soft belly, before looking up at him imploringly. “Okay,” he says, gentling you like a frightened horse. His big hand moving in your hair. “Okay. But baby,” he's nearly whining as you slowly suckle on the head of him, faint living salt in your mouth, “I know you want it, you’re too fucking good at that to not want it, I. Ohhh.” His hand grips tight in your hair as you swallow around him, thick and hot on your tongue. “Oh, fuck.”
You’re finding your pace on his cock again, a little faster, your hands working in time on his cock, on your clit. Freshly shaved like this, you’re fantastically, impossibly slippery. “Ohh, fuck. Oh, sweet Satan. Oh my dear Lord Below.” Copia absolutely doesn’t know what he’s saying, he so rarely gets outright religious on you. It’s an unspoken courtesy you’ve extended to each other, so to hear him break it sends a smug little charge through you. You whimper a little around his cock, give yourself a little more pressure on your clit. He can’t keep still, not all the way, even though you know he’s trying, making little aborted movements of his hips.
Copia swallows. It’s remarkable how you can see him trying to pull himself together. “Knew you loved this,” he says, his voice creaking. “Can’t be that good at something if you don’t love it. Didn’t know you loved it this much, gattina.” A little more pressure on the back of your skull, his nails scraping your scalp. He isn’t exactly holding you down, but he isn’t letting you pull off, either. “Never had my cock sucked this good, never even had a man suck my cock this good, thought I liked that better, before you came along. Had so many people suck this cock–” and that hurts, a hot bolt of pain and arousal that hits your heart and your clit at the same time. Your pace falters, and it must show, because Copia slows as well.
It’s a sore spot. You know that his own inverted form of celibacy in the Ministry included a certain implied… availability that could be, charitably, unpleasant for him at times. Clergy take no wives, no husbands, but give themselves freely to their congregation. You haven’t pushed him on the things that happened to him, he usually insists it was fine, expected, normal– but you generally have to go for a long walk and break something after you talk about it. You know, too, that he had positive experiences there, genuinely caring relationships. It doesn’t exactly help matters that your own knowledge of partnered sex, before Copia, falls radically short of the mean for someone in your age group.
All of that goes through your head in a flash, and he knows it, he can read you so well, even between one stroke of his cock and the next. “Only– didn’t know you’d have a natural talent at this.” Petting at you, soothing, his thumb moving tender on your cheekbone. “Remember, how I had to teach you how to kiss, those hours in the park.” You make a noise on him, not sure if this is helping. “Loved that, babydoll, loved doing that with you, teaching you, drove me wild.” He’s murmuring low to you, his voice a little rough, a little too exposed. “But I– I was ready for you to bite it off, the first time you went down.” 
Awkward thing, laughing with a mouth full of dick. But he keeps going. “I didn’t know, my baby. I didn’t know how it could feel. Didn’t know how good it could be.” He twitches in your mouth, in time with a tiny movement of his hips, so warm and alive in you. “Taught you how to kiss, but babylove, I swear I felt like a virgin when you took me to bed.” His voice is low and wrecked for different reasons than it was before, and oh no, his eyes are wet.
You let go of him, turn your head to wipe your mouth on your shoulder, quick and perfunctory. You can't take your eyes from him. "Sug," you say, unsure how to continue, the twisting in your chest too much for words, beyond anything you could articulate with language. Your knees creak a little as you start to get up, to do what you don't know. Kiss him or touch him or say something, anything, to the way he's looking at you. 
Copia pushes you back down, his hand heavy at the back of your neck. His thumb slots right at the base of your skull, right where he likes to keep it when he kisses you. “No, no, you’re too good at this, I wouldn’t interrupt an artist.” Back in some semblance of control. “You’re too good, you make me feel too good, show me. Will you--? Please, baby, will you show me how it can be good--?"
"Well," you say, pumping slow at his cock. "I can try." You press a tiny kiss to the head of him, too sweet for the situation, relishing the way he shivers. You take him in, how his hair is a disaster, sticking up in the back, his shirt open, your makeup smeared all over his face, his body, the parts of his thighs that you can reach. His pupils are blown wide, his eyes a little glazed, his lips swollen from the way you kissed them and the way he's bitten them. He's wrecked, and he's yours. 
You love him. With all your heart, all your mind, and, you're afraid, all your soul. It hurts to look at him, you think he might sear your eyes right out of your skull. 
You close your eyes against it, at how it stings, and nuzzle into the silky skin of his cock. Copia's belly is soft, warm, furred, delightfully sticky under your touch, as you run your hand up the front of him, up until you're cupping the sweet curve of his pectoral, until you can feel the cruel scar of his branding under the pads of your fingers. You trace over it, mapping the vector of those interlocking sixes. You feel his pulse under your palm, under your lips. You drag your mouth back and forth, just to feel the soft, delicately crenelated skin, the coolness of his flesh here soothing your feverishness. 
Copia makes a tiny wounded noise as his hand presses over yours. As if he could press his heart into your hand. He’s better at language than you’ve ever been, but you can see it falter and fail for him. All you know how to do is– action. It feels inadequate, somehow.
Your dear man. He sees you, and raises your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles in a courtly gesture. It should be absurd, with you on your knees for him, with the delicate skin of his cock against your mouth. Somehow, it isn’t, the alchemy of his tenderness conveying exactly what he means. What you mean, with the most vulnerable part of him between your teeth. “D’you want me to take you to bed, babydoll?”
“No,” you say, pulling off of him long enough to murmur it against his slick head. “Later, maybe. If you’re up to it. Right now, I want–” It’s easier to wrap your lips around him again, to tell him that way. You’re more eloquent with your mouth this way than you ever were with language.
“Alright,” he says, almost a gasp, as he returns your hand to you. “Touch yourself for me?” Almost pleading. As if your pleasure were a favor to bestow on him. “I want– wanna see you get off, my baby, wanna see how much you love doing this. So fucking hot–” His voice breaks off into a whine as you pull him further into your mouth. 
His big hand on your head, stroking your hair back, so sweetly. “Do you want me to be a little mean? I know you like that.” 
You moan around his cock in an unmistakable affirmative, rut a little harder into your hand, plead with your eyes. 
Copia’s smile turns sharp, wicked. “My perfect little cocksucker.” The deep affection in his voice belies the words. “Perfect little cumslut.” Your hand is already back between your legs, and you might– might– be moving your hips a little more theatrically than strictly necessary. 
He holds the back of your neck, the base of your skull, his grip tight. Just this side of painful. “You know how to tap out. How to get me to stop.” He pushes you down on him as he tilts his hips up to you, not quite cutting off your air. “But you’re not gonna do that, are you?” 
Copia licks his lips. He looks feverish, making shallow little thrusts into your mouth. “No, you. Ohh, you like this too much.” He’s so careful, even like this, testing just how hard he can thrust, finding your limit and pushing just past it before backing down. It makes you moan, makes you shiver, makes your hand speed up on your cunt in time with the way he’s pushing into your throat.
“Cruel to me,” he croons, as he uses your mouth. “Keeping that sweet little pussy from me.” He’s panting. “I can hear it, hear how wet you are.” As he says it, you realize you can, too, the wet noise in counterpoint to the sound of you working his cock. “M’gonna make you pay for it. Hope you’re ready, gonna eat you out till m’hard again.” He’s got both hands on your head now, and he’s too far into you for you to use your hand on him.
“You’ll. Hnn. You’ll need me to, to eat you out. Make you cum on my face.” If it weren’t for the sheer adoration in his eyes, this would be brutal, the way he’s pushing into your throat. The speed of your hand on your clit. Moving with him, point and counterpoint. “Fuck, I’m gonna wreck it, gonna split your pretty little cunt open– I’ll last longer, after I cum down your throat.” You whine around his cock, your cunt clenching on nothing, shivering against your hand.
Copia sounds like he’s in pain. It feels like he can’t stop himself, the way his hips are working. “Gattina,” he whines, helplessly. “Can’t– can’t last much longer, you looking at me like that.” You can feel him trembling under your touch. “D’you. You want it?” Movements a little more shallow, holding himself in check. “You want this cum in your mouth?” A rough, jagged thrust. “Little slut–!” he hisses, and he’s not quite too far gone to grin in smug delight at the way you moan in reaction. 
“Gonna cum like this?” he croons, taunting. His white eye bores into you, too bright, and he looks crazed. Deranged. It’s almost frightening, the way you can’t look away from it. Your eyes burn, hot tears on your cheeks, and you couldn’t stop rubbing your cunt if you tried. The way he’s watching you, the way he sees just how turned on you are by him using you like this. Like it’s shameful. “From me fucking your slut mouth like a little cocksleeve.” His voice is creaking, nearly out of control. “You want this cum? You want it? Hmm?”
You’re hanging on by a thread, your nerves strung out like piano wire, helpless before him. Your jaw hurts, his hand so tight in your hair. “Then take it.” He’s beckoning you over the edge, chanting, rapt. “Take it, take my cum, take my fucking cum–” he rasps, knowing exactly what will set you off, will snap the bright line of you.
You see his smile as you break, whining around his cock. How he lights up at it, overjoyed, crooked and tender. You hold his eyes the whole time, giving him as much of it as you can, letting him see all of it, the shining abyssal affection that crashes through your body for him, catching your nerve endings like fire through tinfoil. 
“Ohh–! Precious,” he says, almost crying, “my precious girl, my baby, my–” his voice breaks on your name, the syllables like a song, like a prayer, like something more than holy, like the shahada, like the shema, like it's the last thing that he knows. You never knew your name until he held it in his mouth like this, at the uttermost end of himself. He’s flooding over your tongue, slick and bitter. Like the first jet from the fountain in school, sun-warmed metal, iron from the earth, living water. 
His cock jumps in your mouth, and you’re shaking, trembling through your aftershocks and his as you swallow all of him, pull all of him into you, watching his eyes and his blissed out expression until his voice does– something wrecked. “You–!” he gasps, delighted. “C’mere, come up here, you’re too– too far away–” he’s pulling at you, babbling, delirious, so soft now. 
Copia’s pulling you up, into his arms, his lap, too quick for you to wipe his cum and your spit from your mouth. “Dunno if I like it, you that far away, wanna feel your pretty little body when you cum, you–” And then he’s kissing on you, shivering, laughing, little pecks along your jawline till he reaches your mouth. He makes a deep, appreciative groan when he tastes himself on your lips. He pulls back to look at you, almost scandalized in delight. 
You have to laugh at him. For once you can’t be bothered to be self-conscious about it. “Oh, I do like that,” he murmurs, almost to himself, before he dives back in, like he has to get all of it. You’re still shaky, a fine shiver all down your spine. He’s almost clumsy, licking into your mouth, a real rarity for him. You try not to feel too smug about it.
You can’t stop smiling, when you finally get your mouth back. “Acceptable, then?”
“So good. Every time, I can’t believe–” he’s nuzzling at you, his nose against yours, totally uninhibited in his affection. “So perfect, so sweet, love you so much, thank you, thank you, baby–” Nonsense babble. Incoherently effusive. He scoops your legs across his lap and runs his hands over all of your skin that he can reach. “Perfetta…sei perfetta. Angioletto,” he murmurs, and you shiver. You haven’t heard that one in a while. “Angioletto mio,” he’s saying, into your hair, your skin, and it’s rare that you blow him all the way back to Italian. “Sei tutto ciò che voglio del Paradiso.” You’re a little too fucked-out to parse that all the way, but it still snags in your heart a little.
(He knows, usually, how you still aren’t used to being loved on this much. You know he restrains himself, tries not to overwhelm you. It breaks your heart, sometimes, when you see him hold himself back, even as his consideration makes you warm.) 
Now, though, it’s good. It’s perfect. His pants are half off, his dick out, ridiculous. You think you might have snapped a garter, and you definitely put ladders in these stockings. You couldn’t give less of a shit. You loop your arms around his shoulders and bury your face in his neck, letting out a deep, contented sigh.
Copia’s still petting you– appropriate enough. You feel like a cat in a sunbeam, even supremely disheveled like this.
He squeezes you lightly, again, and makes a little noise in the back of his throat. “The, enh– the talking. It wasn’t too much?” Like he’s shy, all of a sudden.
“Noo!” You have to pull back to look up at him. “No, holy shit, sweetness, it was inspired. Even for you! Hot damn, baby. ‘Cocksleeve,’ where did that come from?” 
“Ehh– a couple of times, there, I’m, ah. Not even sure I remember what I was saying.” Is he blushing? It’s adorable.
“No, it was great. I’d tell you if it weren’t, honeybunch.” You lean your head back against him, boneless and warm all the way through. “Naw, this was awesome. Ten outta ten, go Team Us.” You hold up your hand for a high-five, and your sweet man, he’ll never leave you hanging– the slap rings loud through your living room. 
He tilts his head back onto the couch, looking up at the Devil’s Ivy crawling over your bookshelves. “Although,” he says, slow, considering. “I do seem to recall that I promised you I was gonna make you cum on my face.”
“And split my pussy open,” you remind him. “Or was you writing checks your dick can’t cash?”
“Babydoll, don’t you know by now?” He’s turning back to look at you, his mismatched eyes full of predatory adulation. “The Devil always keeps his promises.”
185 notes · View notes
imaginesig · 4 months ago
Text
"He laughs at all my jokes / and he says I'm so American"
Zak O'Sullivan x driver!reader
SMAU
Logans grid kid might be more patriotic than him. Reader is an American menace to the f2 grid, her bf included, who uses Oliva Rodrigo to cope (and Kimi has been demoted to f3 and Olivias release schedule for Guts is wrong). Based on this prema video
there is a criminally low amount of fics about this man
ynln
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liked by zak.osullivan, kimi.antonelli, olliebearman, and 892,293 others
ynln totally sleighed it
tagged sister_username
dinobeganovic girl you slayed that house
ynln SLAY 💅
dinobeganovic slay 😵🔪
ynln oh
olliebearman mate what is that third picture? The dirt??
ynln chief I live in the southern US we dont get snow here
olliebearman what a sad winter
sister_username we ate the first pic up
ynln its a christmas miracle, my sister being the only one who's nice to me
zak.osullivan cant wait for you to see a REAL winter wonderland
ynln id take my dirt covered ground over your royal snow anyway 💪🇺🇸
zak.osullivan says the girl who flys out the 28th
user1 "were you silent or silenced" @/ynln
ynln gagged to silence ✋😔
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ynln posted 2 stories!
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caption: (1) thoughts and prayers as I head into enemy territory (2) 🇺🇸→🇬🇧
replies
zak.osullivan
oh fuck off
haha
I can hear your gremlin cackle from here
heyyyy you're supposed to love me
I do
I love you and all your gremlin traits
im blocking you and visiting Harry Styles instead
like he would take you in
rude
anyway please call me when you land, I'll be waiting to pick you up anyway
but just in case
ofc baby
get some rest
I love you ❤️
I love you too❤️
ynln
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liked by user4, prema_team, olliebearman, and 891,923 others
ynln theres snow-where better than this
tagged zak.osullivan
Logansargent beer in the snow 10/10
Ynln thank you thank you
Olliebearman “I’d take my dirt covered ground over your Royal snow any day” you sure girlie??
Zak.osullivan she’s been swayed
ynln I’m just a girl
Zak.osullivan my snow angel ❤️❤️
ynln ily 🤭🤭
Kimi.antonelli snow angels?? Are you 5
Zak.osullivan our entire yard was filled by her alone
Ynln excuse me, I’m enjoying my youth and I will grow into a happy adult with no regrets
sister_username nice to see you’re having fun without me
Ynln get a hot European bf then we’ll talk
user1 stop I love this
user2 if Y/nZak has no fans I’m dead
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zak.osullivan
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liked by Ynln, user43, user32, and 828,992 others
zak.osullivan "I want your midnights"
tagged: ynln
artgp_offical new year, new us!!
ynln "but ill be cleaning up bottles with you on New Years Day" ❤️
Zak.osullivan ❤️
Ynln HOT DAYUM
ynln boy do i know how to take a photo 🥵
Ynln I can cook and clean
zak.osullivan no you can’t
Ynln I can bark
Zak.osullivan please don’t I believe you
user1 Y/n is a prime example of the duality of man
user2 she said what were all thinking
user3 this is so Y/n coded
user4 oh he def had help with this post
user5 thank you Y/n for the middle pic
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ynln posted 2 stories!
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caption: (1) 🎶 New Years Day by Taylor Swift (2) New year, minimal headache
Replies
Zak.osullivan
Well hello
Didn’t expect to see my abs and underwear on your public story but here we are
let me show the people what they lost
How about you celebrate that win instead of dm-ing while laying next to me
sister_username
now I have to bleach my eyes
what better way to start the new year than with new vision
could've still done without your bf's stomach but ok
you'll live 😘😘
ynln
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liked by user1, paularon_, user43, and 918,929 others
ynln shes back and ready to show these Europeans how its done
tagged no one
user1 QUEEN 🇺🇸🦅💪
Ynln “salute to me I’m your American queen” T.S
Kimi.antonelli nope
Olliebeaman absolutely not
Zak.osullivan keep dreaming babe
paularon_ id rather die
dinobeganovic I’ll crash myself into the barriers instead thank you
user1 ummm hello???? I didn’t mean to assemble the avengers💀
logansargent f2 grid menace is back 👏👏👏
Ynln gotta show them a good ole ‘merican time
user2 making that smoothie recipe rn
User3 omg update me on how it is!!
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zak.osullivan posted a story!
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caption: I was bamboozled into matching
Replies
dinobeganovic
“Bamboozled” sure
Stfu 🙄
Ynln
I can’t believe you put up with it
rest assured I’ll be checking what’s under your sweatshirt from now on
Oh😏
No
I’m blocking you
f2_updates
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liked by user3, user8, user32, and 819,929 others
f2_updates: Y/n L/n has won the first grand prix of the season!! Did you enjoy her victory radio as much as we did??
Tagged: no one
User1 PLEASE SHES SO PAINFULLY AMERICAN
user2 never a doubt she’s Logan’s grid kid
user3 at this point I think dating a Brit just eggs her on
User4 not the tik tok audio 💀💀
user5 her engineer is so done with her
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ynln
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liked by paularon_, ollliebearman, user82, and 918,929 others
ynln first race back and WE GOT THE STAR SPANGLED BANNER PLAYING! Lets see if we can keep it going 🇺🇸🦅🎆
tagged prema_team
Prema_team perfect season start 🤩🤩
Logansargent OH SAY CAN YOU SEE
Ynln BY THE DAWN’S EARLY LIGHT
Logansargent you were great! Definitely a race to be proud of
Ynln thank you Lo!!!
Zak.Sullivan I’m proud of you love
Ynln ❤️❤️
user1 what is that last photo 💀
Ynln me dramatically blaring Dolly Parton
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Time skip-- a few races
zak.osullivan
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liked by ynln, artgp_offical, user3, and 918,929 others
zak.osullivan MONACOOO COME ON 🏆🏆🏆
tagged artgp_offical
Ynln YESSSS SIR
olliebeaman you’ve never sounded more American
Dinobeganovic put this girl in a frat
Logansargent I have to agree…
ynln my own grid dad betrayed me
Ynln THATS HOW WE DO IT
ynln 15 to first??? YOU MAD MAN
Williamsracing we agree 👏👏
User1 get this man in f1
User2 id love to see it
ynln I LOVE YOU❤️❤️❤️❤️
Zak.osullivan I LOVE YOU TOO ❤️❤️❤️❤️
olliebearman congrats man!
dinobeganovic impressive race
paularon_ it was nice to share a podium
Logansargent calm down before you take my seat
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ynln
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liked by sister_username, prema_team, user8, and 918,927 others
ynln MCDREAMY oops I mean ZAK GOT P1 IN MONACO!!!! I AM SO SO PROUD OF YOU!!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH (oh and I got p4 yadda yadda…)
tagged: zak.osullivan, prema_team
Zak.osullivan even in my time of victory I lose to Shepard 😔😔
ynln someone had to keep me entertained while I waited for all your media to be done 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️
Zak.osullivan thank you for all your support!! You raced a wondeful race, congrats on p4
Ynln I love you (but your race was better no need for a pitty congrats)
sister_username congrats Zak!! The Y/n family was cheering you on
ynln this L/n was also cheering you on!!
user2 I love that Y/n and her family were pulling for Zak more than Y/n 💀
user1 ugh we love a supportive gf
User2 God its me again🙏🙏
User3 when is it my turn
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ynln
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liked by Oliviarodrigo, liakblock, elvirahallqvist, and 918,928 others
ynln Happy Guts release to those who celebrate! "All American Bitch" will be my personality from this moment forward
tagged: lettiemng, elvirahallqvist, hamdaalqubaisi_offical, liakblock
olivarodrigo wrote it just for you 🫶💜💜
ynln screaming crying throwing up I love you so much
olivarodrigo i literally love you!! My fav driver
user1 girlie just barley made the teenage cut
ynln 19 is still a teen ☝️🤓
paularon_ as if you needed any more reason to be more American
user2 omg this was a group I didn’t know I needed
user4 it seems so random but I love
user3 please give us content🙏🙏🙏
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ynln
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liked by Zak.osullivan, user1, user3, and 918,829 others
ynln traveling the world with my world 🇪🇸
tagged Zak.osullivan
Olliebearman boo 🍅🍅🍅
Kimi.antonelli 🧀🧀🧀
ynln i can never win with yall
Olliebearman yall 🤠🤠
ynln get out of my comment section
Zak.osullivan I love you
ynln are you sure?? You said no to taking the cat
user1 “my world” I’m crying
user2 as much as i love American menace Y/n i LOVE soft y/n
user3 omg did you name the cat??
ynln ummmm of course, it’s Brick
user3 idk what i expected
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zak.osullivan
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liked ynln, dinobeganovic, user43, and 918,892 others
zak.osullivan adventure buddies for life 🤝🤝
tagged ynln
ynln deal 🤝
user1 i love that they both posted a solo pic of the other
user5 top tier photography on both ends
user2 the middle pic 😭😭😭
user4 oh to be looked at the way either of them look at the other
user3 those olives looks good as hell
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ynln posted 2 stories!
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Captions: (1) for the record I am NOT happy to be in Silverstone on 4th of July weekend (2) OLIVA YOU HAVE TURNED MY WEEK AROUND
replies
olliebearman
oh no
oh yes
and I thought the 4th was proper punishment for all your terrorizing
queen liv said no💜✨
call it good karma
GOOD KARMA FROM WHAT??
Elvirahallqvrst
im so excited
Me too!! I'm sad we won't get a listening party again
same 😭
hamdaalqubaisi_offical
my pre-race playlist just keeps getting better 😌
fr!!
zak.osullivan
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liked by ynln, prema_teams, user4, and 923,029
zak.osullivan best way to end a home race?? his and hers 1-2
tagged: artgp_offical, ynln, prema_team
artgp_offical we agree!!
prema_team couldn't have said it better ourselves
olliebearman id rank that at bloody brilliant 👏🍾
user1 y'all live for a Ferrari 1-2, I live for a ZakY/n 1-2
user2 the "his and hers" has me crying
user3 strong race!! I hope you plenty of family and friends cheering you one
ynln what a race!! I was so nervous you'd overtake me in those last laps
zak.osullivan believe me I tried, if you weren't so damn good at defense
ynln 🤭😘
user4 I know she was just messing around for practice but Y/n looks so good in that blue suit
user5 the best part was she wore that to celebrate Zak's home gp
user4 stop thats so cute
user6 I agree she looks beautiful
user7 prema retire the red rn
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ynln
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liked by olliebearman, user54, liakblock, and 928,924 others
ynln what better way to celebrate 4th of July than forcing the US national anthem to be played (I love you Zak and im so proud but Brits gotta know their place)
tagged: zak.osullivan, prema_team, artgp_offical
user1 I still cant believe she wore that sweatshirt around Silverstone
user2 see I want to be surprised but honestly im not
logansargent ultimate checkmake! You've made me proud kid
ynln ss this and hang it in the Louve 🥹
zak.osullivan you are incredible!! I'm proud to call you mine
ynln even when you lose
zak.osullivan fuck that im blocking you
olliebearman I despise everything you do
ynln screw me then for getting team points (and congratulating you on p3)
olliebearman the boys dont fw americans
ynln one of your boys fucks an american
olliebearman OK NOW WHERE DID THE PR TRAINING GO???
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ynln posted a story!
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caption: My new national anthem has dropped!! 🎶 So American by Oliva Rodrigo
replies
zak.osullivan
did we finally find our song??
I think we did babe
dinobeganovic
am I gonna have to see you and Zak be all gushy to this song
🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️
liakblock
its been on repeat
oh my spotify wrapped is messed up
zak.osullivan
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liked by ynln, zak.osullivan, user43, and 923,923 others
zak.osullivan you're just so American
tagged: ynln
ynln screaming crying throwing up
ynln I didnt even ask you to do this
ynln I love you so much
zak.osullivan I love you (and your entire range of emotions)
olliebearman mission success?
zak.osullivan mission success.
ynln wot
user1 the Olivia quote???
user2 I think she knew deep down it was never her and Louis's song
user3 omg imagine Y/n and Zak dancing with Louis at an Oliva concert
user4 Y/n would die happy
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ynln
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liked by sister_username, user4, user1, and 928,382 others
ynln "he's like a poem I wish I wrote"
tagged: zak.osullivan
user1 omg the 1D phone booth
Ynln I had to make my pilgrimage
Olliebearman glad to see you’re embracing real culture
Ynln a drink cup full of canes sauce IS real culture
user2 stfu I wasn’t prepared to a domestic ass today but where we are
user3 might sleep in traffic fr fr
sister_username if y'all dont get married I will kms
user4 same girl
user5 we got a L/n on our side
ynln oh hello to you too
zak.osullivan no pressure ig
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127 notes · View notes
httpsserene · 1 year ago
Text
𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥
𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝟐 : 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳 𝐣𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞/𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 & 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫/𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤
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📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: for all people believe that werewolves are dangerous creatures, your wolf is pretty tame, even with some of his...quirks. this halloween you let him be the big bad wolf to your little red riding hood, while you give out candy to trick-or-treaters. what he doesn't know, is that you have your own trick-or treat planned for him after this– you're his treat tonight, but he's going to have to chase you first. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. smut. wolf shifter au. werewolves. no abo dynamics. outdoor sex. scent kink. vaginal sex. fingering. possessive behavior. predator/prey kink. tummy bulge. breeding kink. knotting (but not really). mention of heat/rut cycles. no protection. carlos’ filthy mouth. author may have cooked a little too hard 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 6k words 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: carlos sainz jr x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: peek-a-boo • red velvet
𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: fair warning this is the most foul thing i’ve written ever. like, i thought the first upload was unsettling, but this is terrifying in comparison. i think i’m getting better tho, low key. no, this was not an excuse to write a breeding kink 😒. this was an excuse to spread my personal feeling that i think carlos sainz jr is a massive freak, and i will take no criticism on that 😩. but i do apologize for his foul ass mouth at the end. imma try and get these out quicker because i realized that if i’m releasing one fic every week, i will not be finishing this b4 the end of the month. there unfortunately will be no part two to this, it’s a standalone, i got so many things to write now, im sorry :( i hope you all enjoy it (i did an embarrassing amount of research for this aka twilight wiki), and thank you for all the support !!!
want to be added to my f1 kinktober taglist? or my general taglist? send me an ask!
thank you to my beta readers @saintslewis and @my-ylenia ! i appreciate y'alls quick feedback :)
cross-posted on my ao3, httpsss
have the link to my general masterlist, and my f1 kinktober masterlist ! and send me a private message if you'd like to be added to the beta reader waitlist for this special!
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carlos is not a werewolf. carlos is a born wolf; he comes from a long familial line of shifters. while he and his wolf share a brain, carlos is in control one-hundred percent of the time. he can shift into a wolf at will and maintains awareness as the wolf. however, during the full moon, it’s extremely difficult for shifters to resist the call and refrain from transforming. werewolves, on the other hand, are created by a curse or from being bitten. they are forced to change into a beast every full moon, thirsting for blood and carnage. their humanity isn’t present in the half-wolf/half-human form; being a werewolf is like a parasitic disease. carlos’ family has found their calling in bringing a sense of order to the wild, and during full moons, their purpose is to contain and redirect the beastly werewolves from harming humans.
shifters are rare, and carlos prefers it that way (he doesn’t ever want to find out what tension multiple shifters on the grid could cause). his nature doesn’t give him any unfair advantages in an f1 car, sure, his reaction time may be a little quicker, and he heals faster–but, nothing that would classify as “cheating.” if he did have any extreme advantages, maybe he’d end max’s world champion streak, but that is not the case; anything about his nature still couldn’t make up ferrari’s shortcomings.
the only downside to being a shifter is how they’re mistaken for werewolves (even though they are obviously two completely different beings). the world doesn’t know about the shifter population at large, it’s mainly an “if you know you know” society, and werewolves are known to the masses with how many slaughters they’ve been caught doing from the beginning of time. which is massively unfortunate for carlos. if he were to be revealed as a wolf shifter, he’d probably lose everything he knows–formula one, his privacy, his family, you–and he would probably be scheduled for a public execution if those were still in place. he’s only trusted a small circle of people within formula one with the secret of his wolf; lando, charles, fernando, jon and rupert, and vasseur. it’s made his life easier having people that are aware of his true nature, so he can shift comfortably during race weekends if needed, when you are not able to join him.
regardless of how the world views carlos’ supernatural state, you genuinely don’t understand how people could be terrified of him. carlos is ‘the dream man’™, and you’re not accepting any critiques on that matter. he’s a personal-sized space heater, so you don’t have to worry about being cold at night–and he doesn’t even complain when you stick your icicle-like toes and fingers on him. he cleans without being told to, he’s an excellent home chef, he takes you golfing with him and even lets you caddy for him, he’s protective but in a respectful manner, and he even partial shifts around you so you can play with his ears and give him a good little scratch.
the only downside you could point out about carlos, is that he takes his wolf form a little too seriously. 
carlos was raised to train his inner wolf into a controlled, unfazed, unshaken, apex-predator being. the wolf has one purpose and it’s to guard his territory, the people he loves, and to prevent any werewolf murder sprees. but, you wish he’d allow himself to relax, and have a little more fun in his wolf form.
you’ve started training him, funnily enough, to allow his wolf to be off the clock sometimes. subconsciously, in the comfort of the spanish villa you two call home, he’s started to allow his ears to pop out whenever he’s relaxed enough. the spaced out and confused faces and noises he makes, with his head and ears flicking and tilting to match, invokes an unhealthy sense of cute-aggression from you. sometimes, you manage to persuade him enough to shift to his full wolf form, and that’s where you find the most difficulty of calming his behavior.
he’ll go around sniffing and rubbing his body along all of the walls and corners of the house to spread his claim, and even refuses to nap or sleep with you while he is shifted. he’d sit in the doorway of the room you were in and remain in an alert state to protect you from whatever dangers that may appear, even though he’s already sure none are present. there was one time you were able to convince him to lay with you under the guise of you being cold; he allowed himself to curl around you and rest his snout on your chest, but the way his ears remained cocked let you know that he was wide awake even though his eyes were shut.
he’s thoroughly unamused whenever you try and get him to play with dog toys. it doesn’t matter if it squeaks, crinkles, or smells–he wants nothing to do with them. he can’t say no to an old-fashioned game of fetch, though. whenever you grab a stick from outside, you hear his thundering paws running towards you before skidding to a rapid stop, his haunches firmly touching the ground while his front paws anxiously tip tap in front of him, and his whole body shakes with anticipation for your throw. and from there you started to get him to appreciate tennis balls and frisbees in fetch games. even though his massive jaw and teeth have you ordering replacements way too often.
and the thought of his massive ears, eyes, hands, and teeth—led you to your halloween costume idea. 
little red riding hood.
it makes the most perfect amount of sense. carlos can be the big bad wolf to your red riding hood! except he refused, stating that it would be shameful to use his wolf in such a manner. of course, you're disappointed at his refusal, but you respect his boundaries at the end of the day. so, you were just going to have piñon (your dog) be your big bad wolf. and then, that fell through as well. 
piñon was staying over at carlos’ parents house a few days before halloween, and ended up losing a battle to a mouse that he tried to catch through a fence. the fence scratched him a little deeply on his tummy and he ended up getting stitches and a cone of shame. while his stitches are in, he’s staying with reyes and carlos sr.–and, you’re back to square one; you’re ‘big bad wolf’-less-ness.
you don’t attempt to try and convince carlos to join you again, you just decide to keep your original costume and sit out on the porch handing out candy to the trick-or-treaters, missing the other half to your costume. it’s very simple attire, just the red-hooded cloak and a picnic basket full of candy. carlos peeks from the front window’s curtains and watches you smile sweetly at all the children and compliment them on their costumes. he hears you fein terror when kids dressed as werewolves ask for candy, he hears you fawn over the cutest kids and their costumes, and he hears your happiness falter when anyone asks where your ‘big bad wolf’ is. 
you’re in the middle of explaining how piñon wasn’t feeling well to a little girl, and you hear a muffled bark. your head perks up in question, thinking you just imagined it, but then you hear scratches on the door. confused, you go to open the door and carlos comes slinking out to join you on the porch. 
his wolf is massive, when standing on four paws his head nearly reaches your chest, his coat is a silky coloration of a brown so dark it appears black, but in direct sunlight it radiates warmth. his paws are larger than your face and the claws he’s got on them are big enough to match. the little girl shrieks and hides behind her dad’s legs, and the dad backs them up off the porch frantically. 
“no, no, no,” you reassure them, and carlos tries to shrink his body behind your legs, whining lowly, “he’s friendly! i promise he’s a sweetheart, he’s actually pretty shy!” carlos skimpers behind you, quickly managing to shove himself under the outdoor couch, only allowing his head to peek out from underneath. the dad doesn’t quite believe you, and just apologizes and just ushers his daughter to the next house.
you sigh, and plop down a little forcefully on the couch. you hear carlos crawl from underneath the seat, and rise to a sitting position at your side, resting his snout on your lap. you look down and purse your lips at his wide, apologetic brown wolf eyes and raise your hand to give him a few pets. you question softly, “are you going to join me for the whole night?”
carlos blinks at you once. an eager grin spreads across your lips, “yay! aren’t you just such a good boy,” you tease sarcastically. carlos huffs, the force of his exhale swooshing your cloak, before he turns his back to you in dismissal. you laugh at him, and the next group of kids run up yelling for candy, and carlos tries to appear as small as he can so he doesn’t scare these ones away.
after the initial scare carlos caused, everyone seems fascinated at your “wolf-dog,” and how well mannered and amicable he is. carlos lets all the kids who are brave enough pet him, not snapping once even if they accidentally tug at his tail or ears, and sits incredibly still so he has no chance of accidentally crushing them. several dads even pause to give him a sturdy little dad-pat on his side, and inform you of how “that’s a good guard dog you got there, he takes a pat like no problem.” you even impress a few of the moms with how well trained you have him, and how he listens to all of your commands and can do many tricks (so far, the most impressive trick is having him harmonize to your voice with a howl). carlos preens silently next to you whenever little kids can’t help themselves from telling you how pretty you are (his tail thumping on the floor the only giveaway), and seethes when overzealous men and women try and hit on you (growls rumbling out of his chest). you brush off their advances and charmingly tell them, “i don’t think my boyfriend would appreciate me cheating on him…especially in front of his dog,” with a disguised smirk. overall, carlos does so well cosplaying as your big bad wolf, that you decide to give him the present you planned all along. 
after the halloween celebrations die down, you and carlos return inside, and you lead the way up to the bedroom as he trots behind you. carlos shifts back into his naked human form, and you giggle and pull him into a hug.
“thank you, my love! everyone loved you tonight–you know you didn’t have to join me outside, right? i didn’t want you to feel pressured to do something you were–” carlos cuts you off with a chaste kiss to the cheek and dismisses your worry, “mi luna, i wouldn’t have gone out there if i did not want to, sí? i am happy i could make the night more fun for you, by playing your “big bad wolf.’”
you pull away with a small ‘aha!’ of remembrance and rush into the en-suite bathroom, closing the door behind you. carlos stares at the space you were just occupying and shrugs, figuring you have to pee really badly–considering you were sitting on the porch the whole night without a break– and that you’re probably changing out of the costume, before turning to the closet and pulling on clothes. 
he hears the toilet flush, and then the water runs for a minute too long–almost like you’re covering up any noises carlos may hear with his enhanced hearing, but he doesn’t think that you’d have anything to hide from him, anyways. you fling the door open excitedly, still in your riding hood, and pull carlos away from the closet and start dragging him downstairs. 
“ay–” carlos objects, “i don’t have a shirt on yet, mi amor! where are you rushing too?”
you don’t respond verbally, only glancing back at him with a cheeky smirk, and continue to lead him to the backyard. you drop carlos hand once you’ve stepped outside, shutting the sliding glass door behind you two. walking back to him, you stand in front of him–pausing as you stare into the warm depth of his brown eyes, before you take one step backwards. carlos automatically goes to parrot your movement, attempting to take one step towards you to eliminate the space, but you ‘aht-aht’ at him disapprovingly causing him to freeze. you press your hand against his chest near his clavicle and guide him to his original position. patting once with intention, you order, “stay.”
carlos’ eyes widen in shock, but he doesn’t say anything. he allows you to back away from him, twitching towards you when your bare feet slip off the paved patio onto the grass. you come to a stop when you’re halfway into the yard. 
carlos calls out to you, confused, “amor? what’s this, i do not want to play fetch right now–”
“we’re not going to play fetch carlos,” you start, “we’re going to play a new game called chase.” carlos does his adorable head tilt at you, continuing to question your actions, “qué? i don’t know the game you are talking about, mi luna–wh-what-qué haces (what are you doing)?”
you unbutton the collar of the cloak, and spread the front open, from where you wrapped it tightly around your body, and reveal a matching set of the scantiest, laciest, and most mouthwatering red bra and panties. carlos is stunned to silence, mouth dropping open as his eyes fall to your exposed body. the way your smooth melanated skin is complimented by the rosso corsa-colored lingerie, the way you’re holding open the cloak to allow him to get his fill of your body, the way your hips seductively rock from one side to the other, the way the smell of your arousal begins to become apparent to his sensitive nose–before you abruptly wrap the cloak shut, tying the waistband tightly and shattering the moment.
“we are going to play a game called ‘chase’, carlito. where i run into the woods behind us, and you…chase me.”
carlos’ entranced state is shaken by his protective instincts, “qué? no, no! absolutely not. the woods are dangerous, mi amor–”
“carlosss,” you whine, “you patrol the woods every other week! you know there’s nothing that could hurt me out here, because you’ve already gotten rid of it. you’re going to give chase and you’re going to like it!”
carlos shifts anxiously, not fully persuaded, so you decide to not give him a choice, “ten minutes, love. after that, come catch me.” you turn and run into the densely packed woods, ignoring carlos’ exclamation for you to stop. he doesn’t suddenly appear and stop your disappearance into the forest, so that’s how you know the game is on.
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your chest is already heaving from adrenaline and excitement as you run through the forest, ducking under branches and hopping over rocks and fallen tree limbs. you pant and the nerves start to set in, not out of fear of what’s in the forest, but fear of giving carlos an easy chase. you stop suddenly and take a sharp turn, running for a minute that way before you circle back and run at a slight diagonal in the opposite direction, overlaying your scent to try and give some added time to your pursuit. running deeper into the woods, it begins to get darker, the only light source are the scraps of moonlight that manage to find a pocket to slip through. your eyes adjust to the reduced light level, pupils blown wide not only in necessity but also arousal, and you come to a halt again. you quickly slip off your red panties and hang them on the nearest branch, hoping that the wetness that’s already seeped into them distracts him from your true location. 
you start to traverse your way through an uphill part of the forest, exhaustion finally beginning to become apparent after that first rush of adrenaline–but then, a familiar howl cuts through the air; your time is up, and carlos is loose in the forest, hunting after you. reinvigorated, you continue running deeper and deeper into the trees, changing directions multiple times losing track of exactly where you’re going.
the wolf fucking losing it. you–his luna, his mate–are out in the forest he protects—his territory—inciting him into a relieving game of chase, allowing him to be just as uncontrolled as he wants in his pursuit of you. he’s quick to catch on your trail, seeing the way you’re rushed heavy steps in the start leaves an easy path for him to follow. and then, he notices you employed different tactics to delay him. he catches himself running in circles you intentionally plotted, and notices how your scent and foot-trail overlaps multiple times. and then, he can tell you switched from running with the full bottom of your foot and just on your toes for a moment to disrupt your trail. his breaths have started to mirror yours, forceful with the adrenaline from a good chase, and he freezes. he smells you.
he speeds up to a full run, paws thundering against the earth under him, loud and uncaring if you hear him coming or not, before he bursts through the trees where your scent is the strongest. but, you’re not there. the wolf whines disbelievingly, bringing his nose to the floor to analyze your scent trail before a glimpse of red catches his attention from the corner of his eye. he spins around swiftly, expecting it to be the swish of your cloak as you run from, but it’s not you.
it’s the damn red panties you kindly left behind for him. 
he rocks up on his hind legs to knock it off the branch to the ground, and presses his muzzle to the barely there fabric, inhaling your arousal deeply. an unhinged growl tumbles his way out of his chest, before it morphs into another full howl, letting you know how much he appreciates your present. carlos won’t be fooled by any more of your tricks again, and he takes off running.
you’ve taken a brief break from running, leaning forward with your hand against your knees as you catch your breath. it’s loud around you; bugs are buzzing and you can hear the hoots of several owls echoing through the forest. suddenly, it goes completely silent, quicker than a drop of a pin. you slam your mouth shut, quieting your inhales, and you slowly shift your stance into a running position, trying to use your hearing to tell what direction the wolf is coming from. you hear the rustle of a tree on your right, and you make to leap away into a run–but it’s too late. 
you’re caught, large hands around your waist and a leg sweeps your own out from underneath you and takes you to the ground. a scream of surprise escapes from your chest but is cut off with a heavy hand laying over your mouth.
carlos is looming over you, kneeled in between your legs, bare as the day he was born, chest heaving, and pupils wide from the thrill and pleasure of a successful hunt. “caught you. i could hear your little heart racing in your chest.” he boasts.
carlos removes his hand only to replace it with his lips, and the passion he bathes your lips with fragments your mind. you can only part your lips and let him ruin you as he pleases. his plump lips suckle on yours before his tongue begins an eager exploration of your mouth–a desperate moan falls from his lips into yours. one of his hands comes to grasp at the curls on your head, tilting you for a better angle; and you raise one of yours to grasp at his shoulder for stability, but carlos startles away. an animalistic growl rumbles through his chest in dissent, and he grabs both of your wrists in one of his hands, and pins them above your head. 
you’re at a loss for words, unsure if you want to moan or plead to suck his dick, but carlos doesn’t give you a chance to decide. 
he allows himself one last soul-sucking kiss, before he presses nips into your cheeks and jaw, leading towards your neck. carlos buries his nose deeply into the spot where your jaw meets your neck, and takes an excessive inhale of your scent. dios mio. the way you smell. delectable and rich soaked with lust and the dregs of fear still clinging in the surroundings. he gets to smell this for the rest of his life. another growl erupts possessively, and you can only moan depravedly at the sound.
carlos continues to lavish kisses on his way down your body, bruising them into your skin before soothing over with a pass of his tongue. the hand in your hair releases, coming down to allow him to grasp at your chest, brushing over your nipples in a quick motion; the lace scrapes against them and the feeling is paralyzing. he tugs the rossi corsa bra underneath your breasts, and they spill out over the top in a manner so obscene it forces another moan out of carlos. he ducks his head again, to tease at your nipples with his tongue, alternating between flicking and sucking at them randomly. he ignores your hips are rolling up, attempting to get some friction, and your hands in his wrists flexing and tugging to escape. 
he frees your nipples from the assault of his lips, and starts sucking hickeys into your underboob with a pleased hum. the change in sensation and slight ache, has another scream bursting from your chest, it’s too much.
“c-c-carlos, c’mon! please, please—oh!” cutting yourself off with a gasp, as carlos abruptly pulls away, his large hand releasing your wrists,  to scooch down and bully your legs open with a free hand and shoves his broad tanned shoulders between your thighs. 
you’re dripping everywhere. the tops of your inner thighs are smeared with stickiness and you’ve created a wet spot on the cloak underneath you. a growl fully spills from carlos’ chest, shaking the air around you and causing the hairs on the back of your neck to rise. he is an apex predator, you should at least be slightly terrified, but all you do is moan in response, more arousal leaking from you, and you start begging.
“carlos!p-please touch me! lobo mió—please, dont you wanna taste me? i want you to eat me,” you sob, “eat me out! you h-h-hunted me, take what you want!”
carlos laughs sharply at your obscenity, “oh? mi luna, you’re so bad, aren’t you? you should be scared of having my teeth so close to your pretty pussy, but here you are: begging, leaking, and your little hole winking and clenching at me, sí?”
you quickly agree, “yesyesyes, for you, for you, always. please carlos,” one of your hands flies down to grip at his hair and try and tug his mouth onto you. carlos snaps his teeth at you, and you quickly pull your hand away from his head, leaving it hovering in the air.
carlos growls, “don’t rush me, mi luna, i always take care of you, no?” you hum in agreement, both of your hands falling to your sides and gripping the grass next to you in anticipation.
carlos dips his head and swipes his tongue gently at your left inner thigh, and groans deeply. it’s your scent liquified; he licks his lips and smacks his mouth, savoring your slick. after that one sample he can’t help himself, he loses himself and makes it his personal mission to clean up every last drop of you that spilled. carlos’ mouth is sloppy, and he’s uncaring of how your thighs begin to shake in oversensitivity from the way his beard is scratching your thighs up, red lines appearing faintly on your brown skin. you start squirming away from his mouth, and carlos huffs, annoyed. 
his hands switch to gripping the underside of your thighs, and he pushes them upwards near your chest, and commands, “stop moving, mi amor, or i’ll stop completely.” you moan a soft breathy okay, and your moan pitches into a sharp gasp. carlos runs his nose up your cunt parting the lips, more wetness spreading, before he pauses at your clit; and deeply inhales your scent from where it’s the richest. you cry, half bewildered and half humiliated, at your boyfriend eagerly sniffing at your warmth.
carlos rumbles out, “mierda, mi luna. mmm, so sweet—i cannot wait. i have to get in you, sí?” carlos doesn’t wait for a response and presses two fingers inside you. a cry escapes you at the sudden stretch, but your scent doesn’t sour with pain—carlos continues. he rushes through stretching you; his fingers scissoring you open methodically, consciously avoiding your g-spot. the squelching noises coming from your cunt, has tears gathering in your eyes in embarrassment, even though it’s fairly clear that carlos enjoys it. 
his fingers slide out a minute later, and that same hand reaches for his dick to begin spreading your wetness over it. carlos hisses, and with a clenched jaw, he asks, “mi amor—estas lista (are you ready)?” his body is now vibrating with the force he’s holding himself back with, waiting for your approval. 
your hands release the earth, blades of grass you ripped out of the ground falling from between your fingers, and motion carlos to come closer and lean over you, dwarfing your body completely, “yeah, lobo mio, fuck me.”
carlos whimpers, head falling to rest in your neck. his hand grasps tighter at the underside of your left thigh—a bruise forming already—and pushes it firmly to your chest, your right leg bends slightly and you press your knee to his hip, urging him forward.
carlos guides the head of his cock with a trembling hand to your cunt, and gently presses in. you sharply inhale, holding your breath, until the head pops in fully, causing both you and carlos to moan in pleasure. carlos continues sinking deeper within you as controlled and slowly as he can, not wanting to cause you any discomfort. however, you’re completely gone already. eyes shut in bliss, mouth open, drool already leaking from the corner of your lips. carlos lifts his head to read your expression, and smirks, you’re so easy for him. 
he bottoms out, feeling how your walls squeeze him tightly, and flutter in desperation, like they can’t quite accommodate to his size. carlos waits patiently, chest heaving again from the strain of not taking you, and watches how you squirm underneath him, not knowing if you want to squirm away or closer. you adjust to his presence a handful of seconds later, and grind your hips up to feel the delicious drag of his dick inside of you. carlos’ eyes widen and a shocked groan escapes him before he rolls his own hips down to meet you. 
carlos sets a quick pace from the beginning, he can’t be bothered with building up his speed slowly—he has a claim to lay on you; and to any other being in this forest who can smell how alluring you are, you’re his mate.
moans are being punched out of your chest with every one of his thrusts, harmonizing with his matching grunts of effort. your back is sliding against the grassy floor, and your shoved up with every one of his deep thrusts, and you sink your nails into his back in pleasure, and carlos growls into your ear at the feeling. 
you manage to find words to praise your wolf, “s-so deep in me, carlos—yeahyeahyeah, deeper, baby, please—ah! faster, carlos, faster—“ and carlos does his best to fulfill your wishes; his mouth rests right next to your ear; his panting breaths, and moans only making you squeeze around him tighter.
he soon tires of your orders; he’s not doing his best if he hasn’t fucked the words out of you. carlos suddenly pulls out of you, and you cry out angrily with a furrowed brow, “no, carlos! don’t stop, what are you—“ and with a rough commanding tone, he interrupts you, “stop whining.” your mouth slams shut, the sound of your teeth clacking together mortifyingly loud, your eyes wide with shock.
carlos softens, patting at your hip gently to reassure you that he’s not angry. he then flips you over (cloak spread on the ground underneath you), up on your elbows and knees, and makes to mount you properly—like the wolf he really is. the air is thick, and with your back turned to him in such a vulnerable manner, adrenaline rushes through you again. carlos laughs down demeaningly at you, as your scent thickens even more with lust and smidge of fear. 
rattled at his amusement, you try to push up onto your hands and knees, but carlos automatically pushes you back down, with a heavy, hot and veiny hand scruffing you at the base of your neck. you moan out highly, as carlos forces you back down to your elbows. he releases your neck and smooths his hand down to the small of your back to deepen your arch just the way he wants, and to pull your hips up to match.
all he says is, “now, you stay, just like that—and be a pretty hole for me.”
carlos bullies his dick back inside you, and doesn’t allow you any time to adjust in the this new position. he roughly pounds into you, now only caring about getting his release—he’ll make you cum after he’s thoroughly enjoyed his prize for hunting you down.
carlos’ grunts are animalistic, and his thrusts are too fast for you to try and buck back against him to match his rhythm; all you can do is sit pretty and take what he gives you—just like he said. you can only ramble out four words in between your moans; ‘carlos,’ ‘full,’ and ‘too deep.’ carlos rumbles approvingly at your chanting this time around, and pulls your hips back even closer to dig as deep as he can, uncaring of how you're trying to run from his thrusts.  
your start babbling at the constant pressure and drag against your g-spot, he’s so deep, in this position, hitting areas he can only reach and causes your legs to give out. carlos’ hips don’t falter, as he catches you pulling you back up with a hand around your navel. and then his hips stutter in shock with a crude moan. he grabs one of your hands, causing you to fall flat on your face, head turned to the side with your cheek pressed to the cool red cloak—and guides it to your stomach and holds it there.
carlos resumes thrusting, and preens, “mmm, can you feel that, mi amor? i’m fucking you so deep—ah—you can feel it through your skin.” you can feel it, and the pressure from carlos pressing your hand on his own dick from outside of your body, has your eyes rolling back and tears streaming down your face. your legs go limp again, but carlos isn’t fazed; he continues to hold your body up for you. “so good for me,” carlos rambles, “mio luna—my mate.”
abruptly, you feel it. the press of his knot against you, and in a sudden moment of clarity, you start to beg. 
“—los! kn-knot, please! ‘arlos, breed—ahahah—breed me deep and full—oh!”
carlos gnashes his teeth, growling savagely, before he leans down and forcefully bites down at the back of your neck—not enough to break skin, but enough to remind you of his teeth for a few days. you shudder, air stolen from your lungs, and you have no choice but to cum. 
carlos feels the way your pussy flutters around him, failing to push him out with your release flooding your thighs, and how it continues to drag him deeper within you in a hypnotizing motion to milk him dry. carlos struggles to thrust once, twice, thrice more times with how tightly your cunt is gripping him and shoves his cock as deep in you as possible without allowing his knot to slip in, filling you up nice and good—breeding you just like you wanted. 
carlos rocks you two both through the aftershocks, ensuring his cum coats your insides thoroughly, only slowing to a stop when your combined release starts frothing at where the two of you are joined, and your hips start squirming away from him. he guides you back, sitting you on his lap, keeping himself inside you, as he rotates you to face him.
your makeup is ruined. mascara and eyeliner staining your cheeks with the tracks of your tears, red lipstick smudged on your brown skin, eyes wide and still glassy with moisture. carlos swipes his thumb around your lips, fading the smudges as best as he can. 
you smile softly, and ask with a light tone, “wasn’t that fun, mi lobo?”
carlos can only laugh softly, and nod, “yes—i did not know that you would enjoy being bred on the forest floor that much.”
your cheeks flush again after they began to cool, and you smack carlos shoulder in embarrassment. your brow furrows, and your mouth drops into a pout, “why didn’t you knot me?”
carlos raises an eyebrow at you teasingly, “ah, sí! you were begging for it like whore—“
“carlos!”
“i’m joking, i’m joking, mi luna! of course you were begging, more like a slut for my knot than a bitch in h—“
“dios mio, carlos! your fucking mouth after you cum—jesus christ!”
he can only laugh harder, extra pleased at how he gets you to fluster so easily, even after he just railed you in the middle of the forest.
“ay, mi amor—i’ll stop, im sorry,” he starts still grinning cockily, “pero, i did not give you the knot you begged for so sweetly, because my rut is in three days, sí? and i can’t afford to bruise your pretty pussy with my hefty knot before then, no?”
you balk. carlos’s semi-annual rut is a force of its own, you're practically out of commission for a week after it, unable to close your legs from how raw it leaves you. his knot bruises your insides every time you take it, so he definitely made the smart decision by not folding to your cries of desperation.
the scent of the two of you's satisfaction permeates the air, intertwining with the smell of sex, and carlos can only lean forward to mouth at your neck to taste how well he took care of you tonight. 
“mmm,” carlos hums, “now—do you want me to carry you back to our den so i can finally get my mouth on you and clean you up, or do you want me to make another mess of you right here, mi luna?”
taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr @nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld @buendiabebeta @butterfly-lover @lana-d3l-rey @dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhajj @miahgonzalez16 @jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @sweetpiccolo-blog @my-ylenia @zaynzierulez
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© httpsserene 2023
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stars-and-the-min · 6 months ago
Text
☆ the wrong way to hard launch (14) | OP81
summary : oscar's girlfriend is a walking pr problem for literally everyone (including herself) social media au
pairing : oscar piastri x zhou!fem!singer!oc
a/n wait wait let him cook (imola)
masterlist | last part | part 14 | next part
INSTAGRAM
oscar piastri just posted to their story
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TIKTOK
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comments
FOLLOW UP QUESTION, WHICH RACE ????
something about a formula 1 driver and a rockstar having like the most normal story of meeting is hilarious
"took me a while to actually start dating her" i'm deadddd, u pulled her in the end tho bro
best relationship on the grid, i would die for them
didn't win the race but won her number, u have ur priorities straight
y'all gas her up too much it's not like she's that big a deal 💀 ↳ she's at least ten times more famous let's be fr for a sec, most of the world doesn't know what f1 is but they've probably heard one of lina's songs on the radio
REDDIT
r/EmptyBottles · Posted by u/luckyluna9364 1 mo. ago Lina x Oscar Timeline [read new comments]
fantstic013 · 12 hr. ago reviving this post bc of oscar's tiktok; they met at a race, which race??? when did lina attend a race?? whatthekermitdid · 11 hr. ago her f1 race debut (her words, not mine) was literally suzuka last month so i'm just as confused niaphilia283 · 11 hr. ago she might have done it behind the public's back. i think we all know that lina is only seen when she wants to be seen; we basically only saw her at scheduled events for the entirety of 2020-2023 like where was she even? what was she doing?
luckyluna9364 OP · 3 hr. ago ppl out there scrambling wondering which race but it has to at least be from the 2023 season bc i bet my whole life savings that their talking period was like 3 months so the new proposed meeting is like... abu dhabi grand prix (at the very least) which was back in december 2023
TWITTER
emme @flowersforcami · 4h still not over last night's show... the shit was phenomenal, it the cherry on top ↳ amie <3 @mieflrs · 4h i don't think we acknowledge how masochistic t*mmy must be to follow lina around europe and enduring those 2 hour shows where almost every song is the biggest middle finger to your existance; personally, if a song like aconite was written about me, i'd just never show my face again
kayla @luna_apocolypse · 5h oscar's story??? sir are you talking about the actual view or the stunning woman on the balcony?? it's important that i know
president linami @ linaminami · 6h 24 days since lina's posted on any of her socials... i can't believe i miss her unserious ass so much 🥲
oscalina real ?! @emptyginbottles · 33m "oscar could do so much better" respectfully how do you get better than selina fucking bui? ↳ oscalina real ?! @emptyginbottles · 33m "he should be with someone like him" she's australian, she's born in 2001, she's got cat energy, she loves sleeping and chocolate, she's slightly unhinged, she's known as a prodigy in her field, she keeps down low and most importantly, she's hot as shit, what more do you want
piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 2h he called her his lucky charm 🥺 i love them so much 😭 ↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 2h wait lina?? where's this from?? i have terrible signal and no videos are loading ↳ piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 2h it's from a video of them entering the paddock, someone asked him what's its like to have her at a race again and he grinned and said she's his lucky charm ↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 2h WAIT NO THEY'RE SO CUTE I CAN'T
MESSAGES
from the phone of oscar piastri
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TWITTER
oscalina real ?! @emptyginbottles · 4h WE'RE SO BACKKKKK
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↳ piaa⁸¹ @papayaeightyone · 4h that lucky charm must be working 👀
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pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 34m OSCAR PIASTRI P2 START YES YES YES
oscalina real ?! @emptyginbottles · 21m oh he was not kidding when he said she was his lucky charm ↳ oscalina real ?! @emptyginbottles · 20m i'll have whatever he's having bc he was like a cat on steroids
jess @OPIXSTRI · 28m we were so close to a maiden pole why is it always a fucking haas ruining everything
Jonny @EB_jonno · 32m @ OscarPiastri Mega quali mate, way to absolutely send it (don't give Lina too much credit)
INSTAGRAM
oscarpiastri Autodromo Enzo e Dino Ferrari di Imola
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liked by cameliazzz and 218,496 others
oscarpiastri Well, it was fun while it lasted 😂
opeightyone Time to have better fun tomorrow then
cameliazzz i bet she found it hilarious ↳ oscarpiastri @ cameliazzz She found the timing hilarious, she was pretty upset it happened
TWITTER
pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 3h oscar piastri is now incredibly familiar with the rear wing of that ferrari it's just a shame it's the hideous hp logo
oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 3h LANDO??? LANDO OML U ARE SCARING THE SHIT OUT OF EVERYONE
piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 2h i mourn the mclaren double podium we could've had... ↳ piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 2h what matters most is that oscar finished ahead of sainz, i'm a happy woman
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ZG24 future WDC · @zhoupdates · 21m the most iconic cousins are having dinner together in imola after the race
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tagged: 周冠宇 | Zhou Guanyu 🇨🇳 and lina !!! ↳ clara @ zgy24 · 5m oscar finally let lina out of his sight this weekend?
INSTAGRAM
oscarpiastri
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liked by logansargeant and 264,586 others
oscarpiastri En route to Florence (got really sidetracked)
amelia_belrose who gave them the right to be so cute?
pi4str1 the anticipated road trip happened 🥺 ↳ linasgirl4 @pi4str1 from a mention in a rolling stones interview to reality, they did it guys 🫶
opeightyone Nice quick break before the double header
siera_mblanc he's never looked so boyfriend before this is insane, the girlfriend effect is slowly kicking in
TWITTER
pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 2h something real funny about oscar driving down to florence with lina to spend a day or two before having to helicopter over to monaco by wednesday for the mclaren senna tribute livery/monaco gp promotions like 😭 OSCAR, BREATHE A LITTLE ↳ pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 2h idk how u think this is lina hate, it's just me pointing out that oscar had found a gap in his schedule and immediately went: i'm spending as much time as physically possible with my girlfriend before they forcibly drag me to monaco
Oscar Piastri @ OscarPiastri · 4h Searching my family tree to find any trace of Monégasque roots ↳ Charles Leclerc @Charles_Leclerc · 1h I can adopt you if needed ↳ Jonny @EB_Jonny · 13m did we just become in-laws to the leclercs???
piaa⁸¹ @papayaeightyone · 1h oscar piastri-leclerc 😭
✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:✧・゚: ✧・゚:
taglist @ririyulife @ashy-kit @fionaschicken @namgification @cherry-piee @urfavsgf @eiaaasamantha @sp1rl @destinyg237 @iloveyou3000morgan
232 notes · View notes
sweetteainthesummerx · 6 months ago
Text
THE LOVE LASTS SO LONG (8)
In which Ollie turns 21...
series masterlist
★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★
scuderiaferrari posted
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scuderiaferrari Happy Birthday to the youngest driver on the grid!
tagged: olliebearman
liked by aubreyyang, charlesleclerc and 990,842 others
user1 awww everyone say ty admin
olliebearheart BABY BEARMAN ALERTT
aubreyyang ❤️🎂
olliebearman and the author liked this comment
olliebearman Thank you! ❤️
charlesleclerc happy birthday son, can't believe you're 21
-- olliebearman love u dad
-- user2 STOP MY HEART
logansargent happy birthday bro!
landonorris party hard mate 🍾
MESSAGES
aubrey
happy birthday ollie!! im so happy I met u in that paddock :) you make life more fun good luck with your next race xx
ollie
thank you aubrey :)
wish you were in Italy with me us rn
aubrey
:( me too ive been in meetings all week
but party hard!!
ollie
can't Im on a strict diet :(
also it would be more fun if u were here
aubrey
aww poor baby
I have smth that might cheer u up?
ollie
what??
aubrey
im directing a music video for a week in london...
ollie
WHENN HDI
aubrey
😭 mid July? u have a two week break then right
ollie
HIWHFEJOJFE I stopped breathing I have an idea
aubrey
OLLIE WTH WHAT
ollie
WHAT IF WE DID A EUROPE TRIP
aubrey
this might be ur greatest idea yet
ollie
no actually tho
you finish up in London and we can backpack through a few countries
aubrey
WAIT YES LETS BRING A FEW FRIENDS TOO
ollie
oh
okay yeah sure :)
bearyfast_04 posted
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bearyfast_04 confused because she sends me "xx" calls me baby but when I suggested a trip with her she asked if we should bring friends. Be honest is it over for me 🫠
liked by kimi_possible, landoakabob and 14 others
landoakabob yes.
-- leosdad NO. it is not over bring another couple (me and Alex) and it'll still be romantic
kimi_possible that picture and the quotes💀
-- bearyfast_04 how I feel fr
chililos55 still waiting for someone to fill me in
arthuranddw GET UR ACT TOGETHER (what was the context of the baby calling)
-- bearyfast_04 "poor baby"
-- arthuranddw ur cooked
-- leosdad Arthur now hes crying 😤
aubreyyang posted
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aubreyyang 🇺🇸
tagged: oliviarodrigo
liked by olliebearman, iamcharliebushnell and 559,907 others
view all comments
walker.scobell pls tell me u fell out of the window
-- aubreyyang shouldn't u be at school
-- walker.scobell shouldn't u be w ur man
this comment was removed
-- user1 WE SAW THAT SCREENSHOTTED TOO
-- user2 PLS SAY SIKE im traumatized from mace
this comment was liked by dior.n.goodjohn
oliviarodrigo 🤭
-- aubreyyang love u Livy!!
olliebearmanfanpage2 pls can we get her to another race I have aubrey content withdrawals
this comment was liked by olliebearman
-- user3 AYOO they're shameless now they have to be together
f1wagsupdates posted
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f1wagsupdates In recent episode of Grill the Grid, Ollie Bearman was asked what his favourite movie was and his reply was "Station 13. I watched that movie so many times when it came out" and later on when asked who his celebrity crush was as a child, he answered with the star of the aforementioned movie, Aubrey Yang. The two have been linked together more than once...all we can say is that we would love to have Yang as a wag.
liked by olliebearhearts, aubreyxloves and 17,031 others
aubreyxloves Ollie Bearman I was unfamiliar with ur game 😳
user1 he's having his tom holland moment AND IM MANIFESTING IT TOO PLSS THEYRE SO CUTE
-- olliexaubes RIGHT the way he was blushing afterwards they're so bbg coded 🤭
user2 oh to be Aubrey yang with her oscar, multiple nominations as an actress and director and a Ferrari f1 driver in love w her 😞
-- user1 low-key I dunno if I want to be her or be w her
-- aubreyyann REALL
★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★
Taglist: @callsignwidow @iloveyou3000morgan @honethatty12 @taygrls
© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.
168 notes · View notes
skepwith · 9 months ago
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More Parts of the Revenge for OFMD Fans
Part of a series: Revenge Master Post.
This post is about stuff in the body of the ship, going more or less from top to bottom. I’m saving the sails and rigging for my next post. If you want to know more basic terms like fore and aft and bow and stern, look for “Parts of the Revenge” in my master post.
Obviously, using these terms is entirely optional, since David Jenkins et al. are free and easy with the ol' historical accuracy. This list is for pedants like me and people who like historical and specialized language. Enjoy!
Main Deck
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The low “walls” on the sides of the open decks were called the bulwarks—they were to keep people from falling overboard. On the Revenge, the bulwarks are topped by a rail (railing).
A gap in the bulwark, together with a set of rungs on the hull, was called an entry port. It allowed people to climb aboard from a dinghy.
The top edge of the bulwark was the gunwale, pronounced gunnel. The expression “loaded to the gunwales” is still used to mean very full. The top edges of a dinghy are also called gunwales.
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An opening in the deck is called a hatchway. I wrote about hatches a while ago, but what I didn’t realize was that the hatch is the part that covers the hatchway. The wooden grid that lets light and air through is called the grating.
In the bow, the curving rail that goes from the figurehead to the hull is called the head rail, which would’ve been really helpful to know for my toilet post. Oh well.
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Stede’s journal could at a stretch be called a logbook (or log). This was a book in which an officer noted details of the ship’s daily progress and journey. Probably a bit less fanciful than Stede’s version.
Weaponry
The Revenge has guns (the word used for cannons) on her main deck and her gun deck. Before a gun was fired, the barrel was cleared with the sponge, then loaded with gunpowder and shot and wads of cloth, all of which was tamped down with the rammer. There were different types of shot, or ammunition; cannonballs were called round shot.
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To fire a gun, a lit fuse (usually a slow match) was brought in contact with the vent at the top of the gun—called the touchhole—to ignite the gunpowder. (The wick added in OFMD isn’t accurate. Shocking, I know.) The slow match was usually held with a staff called a linstock, tucked into a notch on the end. You didn’t want to be right next to the cannon when it went off, because there was a non-zero chance it would misfire and explode in your face.
Despite what you see in movies, cannons didn’t produce a lot of fire and smoke; the cannonball did damage by going unstoppably through hulls, masts, and people—often many at a time—like a deadly Energizer bunny.
The gunpowder was kept in kegs in a small room called the powder magazine. (A magazine is an ammunition storage area.) This room was in the hull of the ship, below the water line, to minimize the chances of a stray spark sending the whole ship up in flames. The shot was kept in the shot-locker, a small room in the hold (though this word wasn’t recorded till 1805). As we know, Stede calls this the ball room.
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Besides the regular cannons, the Revenge also has swivel guns, small cannons mounted on swivels. These were too small to damage another ship; they were there to fire at boarders and approaching boats. Or, you know, to set off fireworks.
To take an enemy ship, sailors might use a grapnel (or grappling hook). These were attached to a rope and thrown at enemy bulwarks or rigging so the ships could be pulled together for boarding.
The Gun Deck
Everything on a ship had to have a special name: stairs were always called ladders; the floor was called the deck; and a wall or partition inside the hull was called a bulkhead.
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Some of you may know that a ship’s kitchen is called a galley. However, this usage wasn’t recorded until 1750; the earlier word was cook-room.
Likewise, the mess is where you eat on a ship, but this sense wasn’t recorded until the late 1800s. In OFMD’s time, mess meant “a group of people who eat together,” like officers of the same rank or sailors on the same watch.
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You might know a berth as a shelf or box to sleep on, like Stede’s (and Ed’s) bed, but this usage wasn’t recorded until the 1790s. The earlier meaning, used from at least 1706, is “a room where a particular group (such as officers or midshipmen) eats and sleeps.” So you might call Jim’s room a berth—except that it changes hands, and its name has been firmly established as the Room.
A berth is also a place in a port or harbour where you can moor (park) a vessel, and thirdly, the safety margin around another vessel or object, which gives us the phrase “to give [it] a wide berth.”
Finally, the area where the animals (remember them?) were kept was a small triangular area in the bow called the manger. This seems to be where the Revenge’s en suite is, at least as far as I can figure, but if you want to include the animals for whatever reason, they’d probably live somewhere around there.
Storage
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Some of the stuff on board was stored in casks, a.k.a. barrels. These could be any size, but a large cask was also called a butt. A scuttlebutt was a butt full of water attached to the deck for sailors to drink from. Unfortunately, the word wasn’t recorded before 1800, and the “gossip” meaning not till a century after that. But it’s a great word and you should use it anyway.
A keg was a small cask, usually less than ten gallons, used for things like gunpowder or rum.
A sea chest was a wooden box used to store an officer’s personal effects—or to confine a nosy hombrecito.
The Ship’s Bottom
(As it were.)
In several of my posts and diagrams I said the lower decks of the Revenge were the gun deck, the orlop, and the hold. But my friends, I made a grievous error: the Revenge has no orlop. I know!
In season 2, for the first time we get to see what’s below the gun deck. When Frenchie opens the secret passage in the kitchen, he reveals a set of stairs—sorry, a ladder—down to a grim, damp space. The kitchen is on the gun deck, so this is the deck immediately below it, and while on most ships that would’ve been the orlop, in this case it’s the hold.
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The hold was the lowest compartment of the ship, used for storage and cargo. It also sometimes held the ballast—heavy stuff (e.g., pig iron, gravel, stones, lead) put there to improve the ship’s balance. The lowest part of the hold itself was called the bilge or bilges—the area where bilgewater collected and had to be pumped out.
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Episode 3 shows the water on the floor—sorry, deck—making it pretty clear we’re in the bilges of the hold. On top of that, an Instagram post by crewmember Will Giles (shared on Tumblr by @ourflagmeansbts) mentioned repurposing the “bilge set.”
Which all proves that the Revenge’s hold is immediately below the gun deck, with no orlop in between.
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The keel is the structural piece that runs lengthwise along the middle of the hull’s bottom. Keel-hauling was to drag someone along the outside of the keel, underwater, as a punishment—very nasty, often fatal.
Also underwater, at the stern, is the rudder, whose movement makes the ship turn. On a dinghy you steer by moving the tiller, a horizontal bar attached to the rudder post. On a ship like the Revenge, you turn the ship’s wheel, which is attached to the tiller via cables, and that moves the rudder.
That’s all for now! Coming next: sails and rigging, in port, and more sailing lingo.
Sources: Wikipedia, historicnavalfiction [dot] com, Oxford English Dictionary
193 notes · View notes
talkdutchtome · 1 year ago
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You Should Have Said No  Chapter Three- Death By A Thousand Cuts
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pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / pierre gasly x reader )
summary . . . when your fiancé cheats on you, you strike up an unusual friendship with one of his closest friends, who just so happens to have had a crush on you since he set eyes on you. chaos ensues.
inspired by the works of miss taylor swift )
genre . . . angst )
song . . .death by a thousand cuts)
warning . . . cheating, mental illness, angst, eventual smut, poorly translated french and dutch, swearing, mention of parent loss, emotionally abusive parent, slight social media au, kendall jenner as fc (potentially more i’ll add as i go along)
series masterlist . . . available here )
Once you had landed in Barcelona, you were greeted by an ample about of photographers and reporters taking photos of the three drivers. They knew who you were, you had accompanied Pierre to countless races, but you could tell they did not expect you to follow Max, Lando and Daniel out of the private jet, their eyes darting to the door to see if Pierre was going to follow you out; when they realized that Pierre did not accompany you, the clicks from their cameras became more intense. You knew the girlfriend of a driver being caught leaving a private plane with three of his rivals was a big story and the tabloids would go crazy for it. Thinking of Pierre seeing the photos made you cringe inwardly, almost feeling guilty for your budding friendship with Max. The rational side of your brain tried to shake that thought away, you were only friends with Max, even if it was anything else; you no longer owed anything to Pierre. Even still, you still felt slightly uncomfortable so you quickly thanked Max for his continued help and support before saying goodbye and walking towards the studio where you would be working that day. You weren’t sure of your full schedule for the day, but you were aware that the first session would be with the drivers from Williams and Haas. Most photography sessions with the drivers were usually done in groups of two teams, simply so the whole grid could be done as quickly as possible. Realistically you didn’t particularly want to be working, you still felt weak from the events of the weekend; but you knew that sitting around and wallowing in sadness wasn’t going to help anything, so you took a deep breath to compose yourself before taking the last sip of the Redbull Max gave you on the plane before beginning to get to work.   
Max’s POV  
Max watched you walk away from the group, unable to take his eyes away from you until you were no longer in his line of sight. Hearing laughter come from his two friends he looked back at them. “Mate what is happening to you?” he heard Daniel ask before Lando chirped in too. “Yeah, I mean, going to her house and cooking her dinner, inviting her in your jet, that is not the Max I know.” He was about to respond until he caught sight of Pierre walking towards them, looking like a man on a mission. Max was slightly thankful for this interruption; he truly had no answer for his friends’ questions after all. But mostly he was nervous as to what Pierre wanted to talk to him about. He wasn’t sure if Pierre was aware that it was him who told you what happened in the club, although once he saw the facial expression Pierre wore in his face, he was pretty much sure that he did know.  
“So do you want to tell me which one of you told Y/N what happened with Sophia?” He addressed Max and Lando, knowing that they were the only people where there who knew what happened.  
“Look mate I don’t think-” Lando started, trying to diffuse the situation but he was interrupted by Max.  
“Yeah it was me, she deserved to know” he spoke up, having little patience for the French man stood Infront of him seething.  
 “And why the fuck do you think you know what she deserves. I know you’ve always had a crush on her, but I never knew you would stoop so low that you would try to sabotage my relationship. She’s my fucking fiancée man.” Pierre’s words made Max unbelievably angry, he didn’t want to continue this pointless conversation and he didn’t want to dignify Pierre’s ridiculous words with a response, but he couldn’t help himself.  
“Yeah, and how exactly telling her that you slept with someone sabotaging your relationship, I’m pretty sure you there one that did the sabotaging mate.” Pierre laughed, reaching into his bag for something.      
“Oh if that’s all you did then I guess this isn’t your jacket I found at my house today mate.” He spoke with venom in his voice, throwing Max’s Redbull jacket at him.   
Max gulped, realising that he must have left it when he came round to see you, his actions were innocent, but they certainly didn’t seem that way to Pierre. 
“Did you fuck my girl Verstappen?” Pierre asked with a look that would have had Max six feed under if looks could kill. Max was dumbfounded, Lando’s and Daniel’s jaws dropped to the floor in shock. “What no of course I didn-“ he started to reply, until Pierre’s fist connected with his face. Without even thinking Max immediately swung back at Pierre and went in for a second hit until Lando and Daniel got in between them, stopping them from hurting each other any further.  
“Go fuck yourself Max. She’s mine.” Pierre called out, walking away as soon as he got out of Lando’s grip. Max opened his mouth to respond but Daniel pulled him away, encouraging him to walk away from this conversation.  
The three drivers arrived in Max’s drivers room, looking in the mirror he noticed the split lip he had thanks to Pierre, he cursed him, knowing that he had media duties later, dreading the questions he’d get. 
“Look Max you nee-“ Daniel started to speak making Max roll his eyes, Daniel was always trying to give words of wisdom, taking the fact that he was older than a lot of the grid very seriously.  
“Seriously Daniel not now” Max dismissed Daniel, not wanting to be taught a life lesson right now.  
“No Max I think you need to hear this. I know you like Y/N, you always have. But now is not the time to try anything. She is a very pretty girl, I get why you would want to but there is about a billion reasons why you shouldn’t, the drama that it would cause with Pierre for a start but most importantly, it’s not what she needs right now. That woman has just found out that the person she loved had sex with someone else, she is broken. She does not need anymore completely avoidable drama all because you want to shoot your shot. I love you man, but you can’t put her in that position” Daniel finished, looking at Max, trying to gauge if he had pissed him off with what he said. He usually prefers to stay out of the heavier topics, more than anything Daniel is an extremely positive person who would much rather make someone smile than serve them some harsh truths. Max knew this so he knew that Daniel was being completely serious.  
“I do like her, I think she’s beautiful and funny and well.. she’s like a shot of espresso; she makes me feel alive, she makes my heart race. And I also think she deserves someone much better than Pierre, I always have thought that even before all this” he spoke as his friends looked at him with wide eyes, not expecting words like that to come out of Max’s mouth. He took a shaky breath before continuing. 
“But all of that isn’t why I’m doing what I’m doing, I actually agree with you Daniel; my love is the last thing she needs right now. But what she does need is a friend. Think about it who do you see her spend time with around here other than Pierre? Charles, Charles’ girlfriend and Carlos, that’s who, What side do you think they’re going to take? She gave up her job to follow Pierre around and now he’s left her with no one by her side. So I’m going to be there for her, I’m going to be her friend. You both know what I went through with Kelly the way she left, if I didn’t have you guys I would have gone insane.” 
Daniel and Lando shared a knowing look, before Daniel looked at Max, before reaching up and ruffling his hair; proud of his friends new found maturity.  
Your POV 
Work was hard, and long. You were able to put a brave face, even when Alex Albon asked you how Pierre’s celebration went with a wink. You knew he didn’t mean anything by it, he was a lovely guy and was just trying to have a joke with you; that didn’t make it hurt any less of course. Looking down at your schedule, you feel your stomach sink as you read the two teams you’re supposed to be shooting now. Redbull and Alpine. Closing your eyes, you fought hard to keep your lunch down; you really didn’t want to see Pierre right now, and you certainly didn’t want to see him with Max. Max’s actions and his niceness towards you confused you, he never really showed you any attention before, with most of the interactions you two have had with each other being in group conversations. To be honest, you had even thought on the occasions you did spend with each other that he didn’t actually like you, there had been a few situations where you noticed that if you were stood or sat too close to him he would move away, times where you would make a joke to the group and he would just look at you in a funny way. You tried, and failed, to steady your breath. Looking at the watch on your left hand, the watch that Pierre gave you when you got job with formula one. The clock hit 4, the time the drivers were due to walk through the door. Like clockwork, Max Verstappen and Sergio Perez walked through the door. Your eyes fell to Max, immediately feeling your racing heartbeat calm down, you smiled to yourself happy to see him. That shocked you, not expecting seeing him to make you feel that way. Your smile dropped when your eyes focused in on his lips, noticing it was split and bleeding. You had no reason to think so, but you just knew Pierre had something to do with it. That suspicion was confirmed when he and Esteban walked in the room and your eyes immediately saw that your fiancé had a black eye, or ex-fiancé, you corrected your own train of thought. The tension on the room was unbearable, nobody said a word. Checo and Esteban didn’t fully understand what was happening in the room but they were able to put some pieces together, the matching war wounds, both the ones on their faces as well as the matching bruised knuckles they shared; alongside the uncomfortable silence in the room, it was clear something happened between the former teammates. 
The awkward silence sat for a few moments longer, nobody wanting to be the one to start speaking. That was until your boss Rebecca walked in.  
“Okay people, we’re going to start with Max and Checo, we just need a few photo of you two together and then we’ll move on Pierre and Est-“ her instructions stopped when she saw the marks on the two men’s faces.  
“Okay what the hell do you people think you’re playing at you both knew this was scheduled for today and you show up looking like-“ she began her rant, cursing out both men but you couldn’t hear what she was saying, instead you were too focused on Max’s lips. It looked sore you thought to yourself, almost trying to excuse why you found yourself unable to look away; although just for a second you  couldn’t help to thinkable how soft they looked despite the sore, how kissable and plump they looked. You visibly shook your head, almost like you were physically trying to shake that thought out of your head, you had no right to be thinking thoughts you like that. You chalked it up to your brain still being fuzzy from the last few days of hell you had just endured and turned to face Rebecca, looking for instructions on what was going to happen now.  
“Right well obviously Y/N can’t take photos of you looking like this so you can all leave and ill try and find time to reschedule it. I will be speaking to both of your team principals as this is just simply not acceptable. Y/N, that was the last shoot of the day so you can head off.” You winced at her tone, clearly very pissed off before nodding and leaving. You walked towards your office for the weekend, looking for somewhere safe before your equipment before you headed back to the hotel room. 
“Mon chéri, can we speak?” you heard Pierre’s voice speak from behind you. You immediately tensed up, really not wanting to speak to him. Despite that, you gently nodded, knowing that you can’t live in this limbo forever.  
“What is going on with you and Max?” he asked walking closer towards you. You scoffed at him. Unbelievable, you thought to yourself, he didn’t follow you into your office to apologize or see how you were doing after the worst few days of your life, he just wanted to talk about Max.  
“Don’t make that noise at me Y/N, I know somethings going on so tell me. Are you fucking him?” 
You saw red, you were enraged that after all he had put you through, he had the audacity to talk like you were the one who cheated on him. He was still walking closer towards you, he didn’t stop until there was a gap of only a few centimetres between your two bodies.  
“Okay Pierre, first thing- no I am not fucking him, he has been a friend to me, you know since you broke my fucking hear, and secondly- if I was it would be none of your damn business; you lost the right to have an opinion on what, or for a matter of fact who I do, when you slept with a random women in a club bathroom.” You fumed at him, taking your ring off and pressing it into his hand. 
“We’re through Pierre.” You told him but he didn’t say a word, instead he brought his hand up to your chin, pulling you closer to him before crashing his lips onto yours. You wanted to push him off you but you didn’t, you let him kiss you and you kissed him back. Your lips fit together like two puzzle pieces. Being in his arms again, feeling his lips against yours felt like heaven. You didn’t know how touch starved you were until he picked you up and your legs wrapped around his legs in an instant. Everything that had happened, everything Pierre had put you through was gone all you could think about was you and him and you both together here and now. His hands reached to your desk and cleared space to sit you down, his lips coming down to your neck causing a small moan to escape from your lips. You put your hands to the zip of his drivers suit, ready to pull it down to, desperate for him to keep touching you. Before you could do anything you heard your phone ring and it was almost you woke up from a trance. You pushed Pierre off of you, shaking your head. Not sure if you hated Pierre or yourself more from that encounter, you began to speak.  
“That was a mistake Pierre. I don’t want anything to do with you. Please leave me alone we are done”  
Pierre looked like he was about to cry but he did what he asked, walking out of your office without looking back at you once. Your phone rang again and you reached down to answer it, too flustered with you encounter with Pierre to even check who was phoning you.  
“Hey bitch, where the hell are ya?” you heard a very familiar voice through the speakers. Lili. Your best friend since before you even knew Pierre. You didn’t very often get to speak to her, she moved to the UK a few years ago and you had only seen her a few times since then due to both of your busy schedules. 
“So excited to hear from me you’re speechless huh? Look I was just phoning because I’m at the airport with a bottle of tequila and I need to know what hotel you’re staying at so I can order my uber.”  
“Wait Lila? What?” you questioned genuinely confused. 
“Charles called me, he told me what happened and that I needed to get here as soon as possible, so I caught the first plane I could.” You could have cried, there was no one in the world you wanted to speak  
“I cannot believe he did that. What a fucking asshole.” Lila sat on your hotel room floor with you listening to you tell her the whole story, starting from the club in Monaco and ending with the encounter you had with Pierre. Half a bottle of tequila had been consumed between the two of you and Taylor Swift played though the speakers of Lilas phone, she knew exactly what you needed.  
“This Max seems like a good guy though. You should have a go on him, show Pierre what he’s missing.” You laughed at her proposition, too drunk already to explain to her why that would be an awful idea. Lila began speaking about something else but you were too focused on the song that had just come on.  
“I get drunk, but it's not enough 
’Cause the morning comes and you're not my baby 
I look through the windows of this love 
Even though we boarded them up 
Chandelier's still flickering here 
'Cause I can’t pretend it's okay when it's not” 
“Y/N, are you okay? Really though?” Lila asked, pulling you out of your Taylor Swift induced trance. You lay your head on her shoulder, half trying to steady you head, half just wanting to be close to your friend. You smiled, knowing the exact answer to her question.  
“I'll be alright, it's just a thousand cuts.” 
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Notes- I just wanted to thank everyone who’s been showing this story some love. I’ve truly been floored with the reception that this has received so far. I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as you did the others. 
ALSO- I'm currently unsure what kind of format this story is going to go down. I personally prefer longer, slow burn fics but I’m not sure if I should go down that way or if people would prefer it to be a bit shorter. Let me know what you think! 
Tag list -
@hiraethrhapsody @ironmaiden1313 @dudenhaaa27 @aundercover @dearlovelys @bicchaan @eugene-emt-roe @faithm120601 @ruleroftheuniverse @idkiwantchocolatee @simxican @reidsworld @icarus-nex @barnestatic @amalialeclerc @stargaryenx 
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eichornia · 10 months ago
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So I had a thought:
- It's 2024. Daniel is back in the grid, his hand is completely healed, his curls are thriving. He feels confident again and he's happy. He's in a low dose of antidepressants and the therapy does wonders. 2022 seems really far away.
- He's starting the season in a good mood, flirting his way through the paddock, joking with the Netflix boys. It's Thursday and they're in Australia. Australia, baby, his favourite place in the world. His family is coming to see him race, Isaac being old enough to really enjoy being in the garage. He's curious and funny and Daniel misses him a lot when he's away. He loves Isabella too, she's his princess. But she's not really interested in the sport (yet) and she's in a hardcore Bluey phase. So Isaac asks him if he can go with him to the garage and when they're there, he asks if they can go visit the Red Bull garage because he's obsessed with the RB and to be honest, with Max too. Just like his uncle, Blake likes to say. Usually that makes Daniel to show his karate moves but not for long because Blake is a scary motherfucker sometimes even if he hides it well.
- So to the RB garage they go. They chat with Christian for a bit (Do you want to run for us when you're big, Isaac?, he asks) (And Isaac says yes, yes, yes) and they dodge Helmut when he appears in the garage because he's scary and not in a nice way. (Isaac says he smells like moths and Daniel has to fight really hard not to laugh) and then they spot Max. He's talking with GP but when he sees them, he waves smiling and he talks with Isaac like he's an adult (and even invites him to look into the car and explains to him everything, twice when Isaac asks again about some things).
- And yeah, Daniel has feelings. Like, he knows he had feelings for Max since... Well, a long time ago. He knows but he was scared of being bisexual (thanks Josh Allen for fixing that) and older than Max, and he was scared of being reciprocal because yeah, like Max was his teammate? His hot, younger, faster teammate.
- But now Daniel is (even) older and has learnt to not give a fuck about what people thinks. And yeah, watching Max with his niece? It's doing things to Daniel's heart.
- So yeah, Australia is awesome, racing in Australia is even better, getting points in Australia is a dream come true after these past years. He's high on endorphins and that's his excuse to intercept Max when he's on his way to his driver room after the podium. (Hey, hi, Maxy, Maximus, I was thinking, like, congrats in the podium, by the way, good trophy and all that, but I was thinking of asking you if you wanted to come to Perth?)
- The craziest thing to happen is that Max says yes. No doubts at all, just his big smile that makes his eyes go small and a 'yes, Daniel'.
- PERTH. It goes like this: Max comes to the farm, falls in love with Daniel's house, Daniel's falls in love a bit more with him. And Max knows nothing about it because Daniel is a bit immature but he's not stupid (not about this anyway) and Max is one of his best friends and he doesn't want to ruin their friendship.
- So he says nothing and he enjoys having this week with Max in his home. They race dirt bikes, they cook together (well, they try) and they play with Isaac and Isabella when they come to visit. And then it's Sunday, a whole week has passed and they're going to fly together soon to Japan. They're enjoying the hot tub after having a nice dinner and Max is laughing at Daniel's impression of Toto and Daniel feels like his chest is filled with helium, feels high, lucky, funny. And that's his excuse to kiss Max.
- Max doesn't stop laughing for a second even in the middle of the kiss and then he stops moving and breathing and Daniel is panicking a bit. Because he knew it would ruin everything, this thing he feels for Max. But then Max's hand is in his neck, drawing him against his lips again, magnets in the dark.
- So yeah, that's a thing they do now. Making out. Heavy petting. Every time it happens, Daniel wants to flail his arms, run in circles, scream like fucking Tarzan. It's like getting a podium over and over again, it's like champagne bubbles getting trapped in his chest. Max kisses him like he races (point-blank, non-stop, making him weak at the knees) and he likes to make Daniel straddle him and he likes to caress his thighs, draw his tattoos again, the three against his lips before kissing each of his fingers.
-It makes Daniel effervescent with happiness and when they're racing in Japan, he's fourth in the race, almost a podium and he comes back to the garage and hugs everyone and laughs and almost cries because he's coming back, baby, he's so coming back. And he goes back to the hotel and doesn't go to his room, he goes straight to Max's room and he doesn't stop to think because he's going to chicken out otherwise.
- And he's on his knees.
- He's on his knees for Max, and he puts his forehead against Max's tummy and kisses his belly button and blows a raspberry against his hip and Max pushes his head away, silly-laughing, and Daniel says let me, let me, please, I won't do it again, Maxy, but let me and Max touches one of his brows and touches his hair and then brings him against his body.
- And kissing Max is like getting a podium but blowing him is getting second place, getting drunk, getting sweaty, getting high-high-high.
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You can read the continuation here.
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nocturni3 · 1 year ago
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Miguel O’Hara x male reader: Daddy appreciation
Top reader
(TW: incorrect Spanish I’m not a Spanish speaker sorry, praise kink, IVF reference, infertility issues, depression, infertility treatment, IVF struggles, fatherhood, anal sex, handjob, body worship, doggy style, becoming parents, celebrating, slight daddy kink, slight public teasing, slight car sex, edging, stomach bulge, breeding kink, submissive headspace)
Months passed since the two lovers became engaged and things couldn’t be better for them both. It was as though things were beginning to look up for both Miguel and M/n as they moved outside the city; away from the loud noises, most of the crime, the stresses of Miguel being spiderman.
After Tyler Stone vanished after his failed attempt at getting his CEO position back from Miguel, Alchemax was slowly turning into a big corporation that began to take the city's poor and lower classes protests seriously. A corporation that both M/n and Miguel could be proud to work for.
With the help of Miguel’s mother as his secretary much to both men’s surprise she was good at both being a threatening force and yet a silvered tongued negotiator. What’s more M/n’s department got more funding to extend a larger hand in downtown clinics and ERs providing them with the newest and safest tech during surgeries, and treating illnesses and diseases that had been neglected by Tyler Stone.
It allowed M/n to move all his major work as head of the medical engineering department to their home; it felt unreal as though this shouldn’t have been possible for Miguel to live happily in a loving relationship with a house, and a ring on both fingers. Spiderman was needed less and less as most of the villains that littered the city were falling back into the shadows with Alchemaxs change of CEO, the change needed for a better future for everyone.
Looking around his new and much larger office that Miguel shared with M/n; he sighs, taking off his tinted glasses as he shuts the hologram screen off; after signing off another approval for the start of a more powerful environmental power grid to be placed downtown. To help clean the pollution and gasses that permeated the air quality.
Rubbing his sore eyes Miguel sighed as he leaned back in his chair, allowing himself to breathe in the smell of M/n cooking them both an early lunch before their doctor appointment. An appointment they both were excited but scared to go too. After all it would be their 5th appointment of seeing if Miguel’s constant supplements had helped any with his sperm count; one of many side effects of his DNA being spliced with a spider. An effect he hated, despised so much that Miguel was losing hope with each failed test, with each failed attempt at fertilizing the donor's eggs; eggs that were running low with each failed appointment.
Miguel had his fair share of breakdowns as this was their best chance to have a kid, as M/n was deemed infertile the second round of IVF. A fact that had broken the two men; a hard fact that had all the pressure placed on Miguel which M/n tried his best to help Miguel through, but there was only so much his love and support to ease the pain and hole forming in Miguel’s chest each time they got the news of yet another failure.
Even with technically advancing the way it has been compared to the early versions of IVF in the early and mid 2000’s to now with the child being grown in a womb like environment eliminating the risk of miscarriage by a large margin.
There was only so much technology can fix when it came to a genetic code being altered in the way Miguel’s has. Only so much injections of enhanced vitamins could do for a body that was genetically modified, only so much it could fix an already broken-
“Miguel hun, lunch is ready! And your medicine too love
Miguel groaned, rubbing his face even more as the knot in his stomachs made it harder for him to want to eat anything. Made the decision to just ignore this one appointment to just wallow in his own self pity; maybe then Miguel wouldn’t need to take anymore injections. Resting his arms on the glass surface of his office table Miguel felt the tired, mental exhausted tears start to purs into his eyes as he tried his best to control the painful knot in his chest at the thought of this appointment being another nail in his self worth.
M/n looked at the still closed door of Miguel’s and his office. Seeing no sign of Miguel coming out M/n whipped his flour covered hands looking at the plate of hot steaming beef and veggie empanadas he had just finished cooking .
A recipe Conchata had given him after the two revealed their engagement to Miguel’s family; who all accepted the fact it was either accept the two for their love of the other or they’d lose Miguel for good.
M/n remembered holding Miguel’s hand throughout the entire exchange. He still held his finances hand through this difficult time in their lives; wanting to have a child to call their own. M/n despised not being about to take all the weight off of Miguel; he wished he could be the one going through the bull of the stress and pressure of these appointments.
But he wasn’t…he was completely infertile; the Lilly hood of him having a kid even with IVF was zero. The least he could do for Miguel was make him as comfortable as he could for as long as the both of them wanted to keep trying.
After all it was ‘through sickness or health, til death’; the ring on his finger made it all a reality. They were starting the next chapter of their lives together. The wedding was all set up, the venue paid for, their suits tailored and ready. They bought a house! But even that wasn’t enough for what their hearts truly craved for a child; a kid they could both raise and watch grow up with two loving parents; far from the toxic lives the both of them had to endure.
They just had to wait and hope that this appointment was anything but good news for them. Placing the dirty kitchen towel on the counter M/n dusted what was left of flours and spices on his shirt. Before making his way to the closed black door of their modern homes office.
A light knock echoed throughout the house as m/n waited with baited breath for Miguel to answer him. Give him time to regain his composure before m/n enters.
Lyla looked over to Miguel who quickly wiped away the stray tears that escaped his normally composed face. She saw how much the two wanted a kid, even going as far as to pick out names ahead of time while planning their wedding. Even though she was sentient now she was still very limited on what she could do to help.
“Miguel”
“Hm”
Lyla forced a smile as she appeared next to Miguel’s shoulder, leaning over to look into his eyes getting his attention.
“M/n made your favorite!”
Lyla smile widen seeing Miguel’s frown turn into a small smile, as he scoffs his face turning a shade of red as he once again mumbled,
“Shock, ¿qué hice para merecer a alguien como él?”
Lyla disappeared and reappeared, informing Miguel, smiling as she pulled at a holo pad tilting her glasses down on her nose as she spoke in a joking assertive voice.
“Ah well let’s see, you and hot stuff over there met, we’re friends for four years and in that same year became boyfriends, then from then on you two dated, kissed, kissed, oh wow looky! Nope, more kissing, proposal and now you two are trying for a kid!”
Lyla froze her small bit hitting a sore subject as she tossed the holo pad over her shoulder listening to it canish in pixels as she turned to see Miguel’s face turn hopeless once more.
“Trying and failing-“
Lyla quickly appeared in front of Miguel shushing him.
“Listen here! And listen closely Miguel, you're not failing! You and M/n aren’t failing at anything, you’ll see Miguel things will start looking up for the both of you-“
A soft knock at the door was heard as M/n’s voice spoke up. His voice was soft, calming, warm as he spoke to Miguel.
“Hun are you okay? Is it okay if I come in?”
Clearing his throat Miguel waved Lyla away who huffed as she disappeared to another part of the house, continuing her installment of security measures.
“You don’t have to ask, this is your office too”
The door Jared opens revealing m/n whose clothes even after his attempt at dusting them off still had flour sticking to his shirt. Miguel smiled at M/n who made his way into their shared office, his eyes falling on the old day of the dead costume now turned spiderman suit that now mostly stayed locked for the time being behind a glass case.
The memories of Miguel saving him from a hostage and mugging, the moments the both of them spent in the other's arms comforting the other. loving each other with all their heart; Looking over to Miguel who began to fidget slightly as he started getting up only for M/n to make his way over to the stressed out man in front of him, placing his hands to Miguel’s tensed shoulders gently pushing him back into the comfortable office chair. Before leaning over the man who's had too much stress placed on his shoulders.
Leaning down M/n smiled his lips grazing Miguel’s, as he spoke his own hands running down Miguel’s muscular shoulders to his thighs massaging the even more tensed muscles. His hot breath landed against Miguel’s now parted lips as his focus turned from the stresses of their appointment to a need for a taste of M/n.
Miguel took in his fiancés appearance, his s/c skin that always seemed to glow anytime Miguel layed eyes on him, his H/l H/c hair that always managed to fall in the right places to frame his handsome features just right; enough to take Miguel’s breath away even after all these years Miguel would somehow still be flustered by the man in front of him.
“I know, but I figured you needed some time to yourself, didn’t want to interrupt your work mr. Sexy CEO”
M/n purred, closing the distance between their lips. Miguel sighed, feeling his entire body feel lighter as his hands reached up to take hold of M/n’s jaw gently rubbing it as they kissed.
The rhythm they kissed, the soft yet yearning for the others lips even after they had pulled away left the two nearly breathless as they stared at the other.
M/n smiled, leaning his face into Miguel’s hand, his own reaching for Miguel’s as they simply took in the atmosphere of this moment. The smell of food filling the air reminded the two of the meal waiting for them. Miguel sighed his face that had once been soft and relaxed after so long of stress now tensed at the approaching appointment. Another disappointment-
M/n kissed Miguel’s temple, feeling the pulse of the stressed out man in front of him who’s heart was beating rapidly.
“I know that face hun; this appointment has to be good news-“
“And what if it isn’t!”
Miguel shut his mouth at his outburst, his eyes burning once more that the thought of their doctors telling the couple more bad news or worse she’d tell them Miguel's sperm fertility was just not improving…that.
“Hun, it’s not hopeless, shock don’t say that anything but that, please.”
M/n’s voice creaked, he shook his head shoving his own feelings down, focusing on what he should say to Miguel who was losing hope.
“What else should I say, Cada visita es solo una pérdida de tiempo. I want to raise a kid with you so badly; I want to have a normal family with no strings attached…but every time we try Esta maldita genética mutante todavía lo arruina todo!”
M/n wiped away Miguel’s tears, ignoring his own that streamed down his face. They wanted to complete their family so badly, to raise their own family, to live a normal calm life. Seeing the man in front of him break down, his heart wide open and exposed, raw with grief and self hatred. He hated seeing Miguel so broken; going from a confident, strong headed, sarcastic hot shot to a broken mess in his arms M/n wanted to just take all the pain away.
“Miguel don’t say that”
“But it’s true, if I never tried to cure myself, never got my genetic code rewritten with a spider we wouldn’t-“
“I wouldn’t be alive”
“Huh-“
“Miguel, if none of this happened to you, if you never became spiderman…I would’ve died that night. Spiderman wouldn’t have saved so many lives, and even if you weren’t spiderman we both know you wouldn’t have just sat by and watched Alchemax keep hurting people. Things happen in ways that force us all to adapt, evolve in ways that shock even ourselves, be it in a positive or negative light. But don’t ever hate yourself ever, no matter what happens now to the future miguel I’m just happy to have you in my life, to have a kid with you and we will Miggy we just have to be patient a little bit longer”
Miguel leaned his head into the crook of m/n’s neck as he let out a shaky breath, wrapping his arms around m/n waist and back breathing in his scent. Mixed with expensive cologne and food had Miguel’s heart lighten; feeling truly at home in m/n’s arms, holding his soon to be husband.
“Estoy tan cansado de esperar”
“Oh hun I know, I know but we have to try and stay positive the best we can…which food can help com one handsome let’s eat and get you your injection before the doctor tears our heads off”
“Ugh, shock not another shot”
M/n stood up taking Miguel’s hand pulling him up from his chair pulling the muscular taller man against his own chest. The sounds of birds outside singing with the distant sounds of yard drones cutting the neighbors yards. It felt truly like home, staring down at M/n who caressed Miguel’s jaw luring him down for a peak.
“It’s just a small prick, besides hun I made your favorite food; managed to get your mom’s recipe”
Miguel peaked those intoxicating lips once more, his arms wrapping behind his lover's head. Untaloned Mighuel ran his fingers through the soft hair; gently tugging out knots as he gazed into the E/c eyes that stared back at him with such love it only luring him in even more; a siren song with no dangers.
“And how did you manage to do that? That woman keeps her recipes closer to her heart then that hun of hers”
Smirked, M/n flipped his head to the side, side eyeing Miguel.
“I have my ways, she’s not so secretive if you hang her dirty laundry out in front of her. Besides, it’s the least she could do after dragging our love through the mud. Now stop deflecting, let's eat before we go okay. And Miguel I love you just remember that no matter what I love you”
Leaning down Miguel pressed the twos for heads together, smiling allowing his teeth to show. His old confidence came back in full; feel much better than before.
~~~~~~
At that moment he was, but now that the couple sat in their room waiting for their reproductive endocrinologist Miguel became an anxiety riddled mess as he sat on top of the examination table trying to at the very least keep his talons in check as to not hurt the hand that was intertwined with his.
“Shh babe, just remember to breathe okay.”
Miguel tried to follow m/ns advice but even that wasn’t helping as Miguel squeezed his hand slightly as he kept his eyes moving around the room, reading the small posters featuring information on IVF and it’s almost beaconful message of;
‘We make families whole!’
Scoffing Miguel looked over to M/n who had his full attention on rubbing Miguel’s clenched hand, trying to sooth Miguel’s anxiety. Realizing he was hurting him Miguel eased his grip on his reassuring fiancé who leaned over in his chair placing a tame kiss upon Miguel’s quivering one.
His voice was like satin, soft and calming as he spoke with such confidence Miguel yearned to have such hope like M/n had.
“She’ll be here real soon hun, they are very busy today”
“I know but we’ve been waiting for an hour! Can they get this over with-“
“Hey now what did we talk about in the taxi hun?”
Miguel wanted to cop attitude but seeing the look M/n gave him Miguel sighed, taking a deep breath calming his already breaking heart at the news he knew they’d get once again. Breathing out Miguel pressed his head against M/n’s staring at their interwoven hands staring at the red diamond that sat set into the tungsten carbide band engraved with the couples most charashed phrase,
‘Mi única luz en la vida’
Words Miguel knew were far more truer now than ever before. His gaze soon fell to staring at m/n who smiled softly, even though he looked hopeful Miguel sensed he was just as much of a nervous wreck as he was.
“Try and stay hopeful-“
A small knock interrupted the couples thoughts as their doctor walked in, her holo pad along with her AI who processed the data came walking in. She was anything but a straight to the point, take not shot doctor. As she looked up her glasses caught the bright lights that had Miguel wearing his tinted sunglasses.
“Mr.O’Hara and Mr.L/N; I know you both what nothing more then to know the news-“
M/n smiled his voice loud and excited as he gave Miguel’s hand a slight squeeze as he spoke.
“Do we ever, it’s good news right doc?”
Miguel felt his fiancés hands shaking as they clasped over Miguel’s. Who now comforted M/n as his voice cracked some. Miguel clenched his teeth as tears began to gather.
“You both have been going through the highest levels of IVF, the most expensive treatments for infertility in men your age group and on top of that 5 separate appoints with no promising outcomes-“
‘Here it comes-‘
“Which is why I’m pleased to tell you both good news!”
Tears fell from Miguel’s eyes as he looked at the doctor, his and M/n’s hands gripping earthers tightly as the news left the doctors lips, her smile widening as she call for her AI to pull up the photos of a artificial womb with a small fetus floating within a time counting down twirls the date their child would be ‘born’.
“You both will be proud dads of a healthy baby girl! Congratulations!”
M/n yelled out pulling Miguel into a tight embrace, tears streaming down both soon to dads faces. Miguel began crying as well as he gripped the back of M/n’s shirt as he sobbed in pure relief of happiness. Almost disbelief as they stared at the photo given to the two of the child’s ‘ultrasound’. Standing up M/n wrapped his arm around Miguel’s waist as he asked the doctor questions Miguel didn’t bother to pay attention to as he held the photo in his hands, seeing their baby, their own daughter! Alive and healthy, a clear bill of health.
“When will she be fully developed I know this kind of new technology is recently upgraded and such with nutrition and growth potential en-“
“She’ll be born and ready for the both of you to take her home in around 3 months as long as she stays on the growth patterns she’s been showcasing. Rest assured mr.m/l, ohara we’re ensuring this little princess will be well taking cared of and safe”
Both parents sighed at the news, Miguel looked over to M/n who looked about ready to start crying himself at the news. The news they’ve been waiting for so long; was coming true, they’ll be parents with a baby girl running around. A strong, healthy baby girl.
“Now then I’ll just be right outside filling out your paperwork make sure to talk to the front office for your own paperwork to fill out, her name, legal parents that sort of thing, nothing to serious”
Miguel still could barely believe it even as he looked back down at the ultrasound seeing the small fetus that would soon grow into a baby; Their baby, migue leaned his body weight against M/n who smiled tears filling his own eyes as he held his fiancé.
“Thank you Dr.Lee, I-I don’t know how to even word just how much this means to us.”
Dr.lee smiled, placing a hand upon the couple's still interwoven hand.
“No need to thank me for doing my job, and once again congratulations Mr.l/n, Mr. ohara”
The door closed behind the doctor giving the new parents time to process the news of their daughter. M/n squeezed Miguel’s body closer to his as the two stood looking at the small ultrasound of their daughter. M/n smiled as Miguel's lips crashed against his own in a raw emotional moment of tears of both fathers, as overjoyed tears streamed down their faces: as all the stress and heartache finally vanished after months of wanting and waiting for this same news.
“W-we’re having a baby”
M/n smiled down at Miguel pulling his body flushed against his chest his hands gripping him by his waist his fingers soon running up Miguel’s white long sleeve shirt messaging the tension in his back out. Littering Miguel’s tear stain face with peaks with sweet nothings.
“ we’re having a little Gabriella, you did it hun; shock im so happy right now!”
Miguel’s eyes brightened kissing M/n back with a new found exuberance at the realization of this being real. That this was happening, that they were starting a family together. With a daughter they both always wanted Miguel’s hands wrapped around m/n’s neck basking in the joy the two felt,
“I guess this is the part I admit you were right?”
Laughing m/n held Miguel’s face in his hands leaning close enough for their noses to touch.
“Nah, I mean sure it’s nice to be proven right but now all I care about is that our daughter is safe and healthy and taking you out to celebrate…maybe invite the family?”
Miguel laughed, nudging his nose against m/ns shaking his head.
“You just wanna show off Gabriella don’t you”
“And why shouldn’t I? After all she’s our daughter, our strong, healthy, beautiful baby”
~~~~~
M/n couldn’t keep his hands to himself during dinner; and how could he? With Miguel sitting beside him as he spoke to Gabriel who seemed more distant and out of it, Miguel tried not to get sidetracked with the hand that slowly moved its way farther up his thigh. But the more he tried to ignore the hand that rubbed up and down his thigh getting closer to his slowly stirring cock. Trying to calm his body’s reaction Miguel tried asking Gabriel how his own fiancé was doing with her pregnancy.
“Oh she’s fine…when she’s not obsessing over spiderman. After all he’s the protector of the people right?-aye mamá! ¿Para qué era eso!”
Gabriel winced as Conchata hit the back of his head with his palm as she finished drinking her drink. Setting the drink down she turned to Gabe who seemed to know he messed up poorly as she began talking in her authoritative voice that made even Miguel tense up as. M/n tore his eyes away from the uncomfortable situation of watching an adult being ridiculed by his own mother.
“that was for disrespecting the man who managed to keep downtown safe while your stupid fiance and her useless rebel group got in spider man's way most of the time!El hecho de que esa rata sin hogar te haya abierto las piernas no significa que empieces a faltarle el respeto al hombre que está ayudando a tu hermano a sacar el crimen de las calles.”
Miguel had to force his face to stay as blank as he could as he took a bite from his meal, staring at the two members of his family arguing. While trying his best to not buckle against M/n's hand that now cupped his covered cock in his hand.
Messaging the area with a straight face side eyeing Miguel with a look that had Miguel’s stomachs knot up with lust; his cock throbbed against M/n’s hand earning Miguel a smile from M/n as his attention turn back to his mother and brother who were in an argument that was gaining some attention from the other people eating; clearing his throat M/n smiled at the two as he spoke a lovable tone calmed the two in laws down as he spoke.
“What we wanted to tell you both is that well…Miguel did we grab the photos?”
Miguel took a sip of his drink, nodding clearing his throat as he reached into his pocket grabbing the two ultrasound of the IVF womb with their soon to be daughter inside looking in her seventh month. Miguel’s hands shook not from nervousness even though he knew his mother and brother would take it as such but that was far from the reason he was quivering as the hand messaging his slowly hardening cock rubbed and cupped around him firmer.
“Mamá, Gabriel y M/N y yo estamos teniendo un bebé.”
Miguel’s smile widened, handing his mom and baby brother their own ultrasound pictures of his and M/ns baby girl.Gabriel practically yanked the ultrasound out of Miguel’s hand only for his scowl to turn into a look of pure adoring as he looked at his niece, his face beaming at the small image.
Conchata grabbed a hold of the small photo looking at the ultrasound . The stoic scowl that seemed to always be stuck on her face vanished as she looked down at the photo running his hand over the polished image of the baby curled up covering its face.
“Do you know the gender yet?”
Her voice softened as she stared over at the couple who looked at one another for permission. Miguel smiled at his mom,
“She’s a girl, a strong, healthy girl”
“What are you naming her! Did you come up with names yet?”
Gabe shouted as he leaned over the table at the couple.
“Yeah we settled on Gabriella for her. It just fits her don’t you think”
M/n's hand lightened its messaging of Miguel’s covered cock, Miguel’s one hand gripping the hand in place wanting it to stay, to keep its teasing as it stroked the straining fabric against his now hardened cock.
“Sure does! Now I know how to embarrass her haha Gabriel and Gabriella! Genius M/n!”
“Actually man it was Miguel who chose the name. He seemed dead set on the name and who am I to tell him no”
M/n smirked, kissing Miguel on his cheek; Gabriel’s chest clenched seeing the happy couple. Seeing his older brother aka spiderman in a loving relationship while his own as being torn apart because of Spiderman!
Looking away Gabriel grabbed his drink, chugging the rest of the alcohol, getting an elbow in his ribs by his mom who corrected his manners.
“Don’t drink like that”
Resisting the urge to yell at his mom who now favored his more successful CEO brother. Instead Gabe apologizes for his hasty celebration. Congratulating the couple before standing up excusing himself for leaving early.
“Do you want us to pay for a taxi for you Gabe!-“
“No, I'm good! Congrats again miggy!”
Miguel sighed, placing his head into his hands rubbing his temple looking towards his mom, who was now standing up grabbing her jacket, rolling her eyes at Gabriel’s ‘childish behavior’ stating she had to get going. Saying she had an appointment with a friend.
As both of the couple watched as the two rushed out leaving M/n and Miguel alone at the table. M/n’s other hand guiding Miguel’s hurt expression to face him kissing his fiancé who’s family rushed out as fast as they came. M/n knew the family had a toxic streak but to just ditch a celebration of a new member of the family coming soon…m/n knew it cut Migue deep.
Leaning forward M/n pressed his lips against Miguel’s, being glad the couple chose a booth seat as not many people bothered to look at the couple.
The hand that messaged Miguel’s cock gripped his balls harder, fondling them the best they could with; making Miguel pant, trying to keep his face and noises down as they were still in a public space surrounded by intel’s other people.
“We’ll celebrate in our own way after all You're getting pretty horny now aren’t you hot stuff?”
Miguel’s other hand gripped around M/n's wrist for support as his hand began palming his cocks head through his jeans. It took all his will power to not throw his head back from the pleasure and teasing he never knew he missed getting from his other half; who’s lips brushed against the shell of his ear, his hot breath brushing against Miguel’s skin had his skin shiver with goosebumps all in anticipation…hinging on every word the man in front of him whispered.
“Wanna treat my baby’s daddy just right, gotta make him feel real appreciated”
Miguel let out a soft gasp moan as lips trailed down his jaw to his neck. Miguel couldn’t take much more, his cocks throbbing became painful, his legs were turning into jelly at the images runny through his dirty, horny mind.
Would his throat be fucked raw? On his back taking his lover's cock? Would he fuck him like an animal in heat, pull his hair, mark him. Miguel’s grip tightened around M/n's wrist while his free hands talons tore through the leather of the booths seats.
Feeling M/n smirk against his neck Miguel sighed leaning his head against m/n chest; embarrassed wasn’t the word he’d describe himself, there was nothing to be ashamed of when it came down to their lust for each other, PDA a sign for either of them to get home fast or there was no stopping them from indulging in their carnal desires for pleasure.
For many men Miguel’s size being the ‘bottom’ was embarrassing, to look too weak so fragile for any amount of touch to satisfy their needs. To Miguel it was pure bliss to let the walls down to let someone else take control to be in charge of his own pleasure. Someone like M/n who knew Miguel’s body inside and out, knew ways to make Miguel go limp at the near thought of getting fucked raw with carnal, primal lust and desire.
Feeling m/ns lips leave his neck Miguel clung to him jerking his hips slightly against the hot palm rubbing him through his pants. His focus was beginning to slip with each thrust of m/ns palm against the head of the aching cock. So much heat burning in his stomachs Miguel felt his control slipping even more as his fangs ached leaking bits of his own venom into his mouth mixing with his drool in ways that had his tongue buzzing with the bitter sweet taste.
“Por favor, te necesito tanto que duele el amor”
M/n's hand palming softened its unbearable teasing as he pulled Miguel’s head into his neck area as his voice shouted out to their waitress. Miguel’s large muscular body tenses at slight fear of being caught in the act had Miguel regain some sense through the cloud of heated lust.
“Excuse me, could you call up an auto taxi please? We both must have drank more than we thought.”
Miguel let out a strained moan at the sudden strong rubbing that started once more. His mind rendered into a fog of pleasure struggling to keep itself focused on the act of staying aware of the situation they were in. He could hardly even focus on what their waitress was saying.
“Oh of course sir I’ll go do that right away, was your automatic payment set up for when you leave?”
“Oh yeah it’s all set up, tell the cooks good job on the food yeah and here's a tip for the trouble.”
“Oh there’s no need but thank you so much sir, the taxi will be here soon!”
Miguel let out a groan of relief with the deparcher of the young waitress. Trying his best to play it off as him being ‘drunk’ that didn’t stop M/n from kissing down his jaw to his neck, nipping at the sensitive skin near Miguel’s ear; sucking the skin leaving hickeys from his jaw down his neck. The grip Miguel’s talons had on the leather seat tightened even farther, tearing more of it in their wake of pleasure.
“joder a la mierda por favor necesito sentir tus manos a mi alrededor, I can’t take it anymore-“
“Mr.l/n your taxi is here!”
Miguel’s face tensed his eyes clenched shut, his lips swollen from his teeth biting down to keep the moans from pouring from them. But m/ns hand didn’t light up even as his sweetened voice. But Miguel knew the slight straining behind it as M/n's hand tugged Miguel’s shirt from his pants helping Miguel hide his rage ig boner as the two stood up.
M/n gathered most of their stuff, wrapping his hand around Miguel’s waist as he ‘helped’ Miguel walk outside to their taxi that waited for them, it became harder to walk from the anticipation of whatever was in store for him once they both got into the hover car.
Tossing their coats into the hover car M/n held the door open for miguel who only had one foot into the car before hands rubbing up his covered spine before lips kissed behind his ear, Miguel groaned when a hand gripped his straining cock firmly before letting Miguel go to get into the taxi.
The autopilot chimed on,
-“Please enter in destination requirements”-
M/n closed the doors hatch, without hesitation M/n swung his leg over Miguel’s legs straddling, his knees m/n’s face blocking much of Miguel’s view as he racked his hands all over Miguel’s muscular body.
Both adults eyes filled with lust for the other, Miguel’s body could help but shake as hands that weren’t his own started running up his thighs landing just shy of the raging cock that throbbed underneath the slowly staining fabric. Miguel barely had time to hit enter on the holo pad before the hands unbuttoned the jeans and took the pre-dripping cock out from the straining fabric.
No matter how hard Miguel tried he couldn’t hold back the unrestrained pornographic moan that escaped. He’s never felt this much lust in his life, it was almost suffocating as the hand started it unbearably slow pumping from head to base. It was as if with each stroke of the hand left Miguel more breathless than before,
Throwing his head back to the back stead’s headrest M/n's free hand took a handful of Miguel’s dark locks making him stare into e/c eyes. Miguel groaned, staring at the man he was marrying, having a kid with, and fell so deeply in love with it nearly hurt to feel him all around him.
Leaning forward M/n smirked, his voice heated, hot, and horny all for Miguel to make the man under him feel appreciated, worshiped, and valued. And that was exactly M/n planned to do, make Miguel’s walls come fully down to fuck him in ways that would make them both so exhausted the next morning they’d just stay in bed and bask in the afterglow of sex but the new found strength both parents had now for their daughter.
“¿Qué quiere papá que haga? What can I do to make him feel appreciated?”
Miguel’s mind was slipping, slipping into the pools of light headed lust. Pleasure building painfully slow in his guts, the weightless feeling of the hover taxi waiving past other hover cars only added to the feelings of his mind slipping into giving all power to the man over him.
All Miguel felt was appreciation from the man in front of him, sighing as lips trailed down his lips to his neck, the warmth wet trail left from his fiancés tongue left in its wake had Miguel craving for more of m/n.
“Ah, ¡joder! No sé”
-“please refrain from contaminating the back seat; if you proceed to do so you will be charged extra for any cleaning services that will be required”-
The automated voice sounded over the taxis inner speakers of the back seat. It sent an electric shock through Mighuels body as he made an attempt to fix himself, only for a hand to push his back against the plush seats of the Taxi. Soft swollen lips pushing against his own, M/n’s voice lustful, soft and jokingly tone all slipping through his voice as he spoke against Miguel’s slightly parted lips.
“You do know; you’ve known for months what you’ve wanted me to do to that body of yours; you just have to tell me how you want it daddy, this is all for you to feel appreciated”
M/n pulled Miguel by his shirt, closing the space between their lips in a heated kiss. Miguel moaned, letting his mind give in; opening the floodgates as Miguel’s hands ran their way up M/n hips grinding his hips up with each jerking motion the hand around his cock pumped. Pre leaking down the thick Vick onto the hand, lubing it up even more to pump faster.
The air around the lovers heated up, the smell of sex and sweat mixed together with their colones that only became stronger the more they sweated. Miguel’s mouth limply hang open his forehead resting against M/n’s chest watching his cock vanish and reappear as the hand twisted at the head making it leak even more pre, drool dripping from his mouth as he watched his cock get pumped with the hand; spit joint the pre in lubricating m/ns hand in jerking Miguel more efficiently.
“Remember Miggy we can’t make a mess”
Hooking a finger under Miguel’s chin M/n lifted his face to look at the existence of the state Miguel was in. What he saw had his own cock throb painfully at Miguel’s flushed face, his unfocused eyes, the drooling mouth that revealed his fangs that seemed like they were even losing control over their venom leaking out, Miguel’s messing hair clinging to his forehead. M/n smirked down at his blissed out minded fiancé who’s arms clung loosely on his hips.
“ w-want you inside, hmm ah”
Miguel moaned his head leaning against M/ns hand, his body was in a state of plearsureable numbness. The only thoughts going through his mind was the thought of M/n cock filling him up with is seed. In a primal part of his mindset miguel craved to be filled to the brim with M/ns kids.
“Want your cum…in me filling me”
“Oh? And why does daddy want my cum?hmm”
Twisting his hand harshly at the reddening tip of Miguel’s cock; m/n moaned watching Miguel’s body shake involuntarily with Miguel’s whines from the amount of pleasure.
Miguel couldn’t take anymore his cock,his stomachs, even his ass ached for his fiancés cock to fuck him raw and full with cum.
“I want more kids, want you t-o fill me with them ahh, carajo!”
Miguel stammered his request filled M/n with such primal desire to do just as his future husband asked. Fill him full of his cum, his kids, to get him pregnant; to give their baby girl Gabriella siblings right away.
It was a part of Miguel’s brain that had these instincts programmed into him from the desisted, it made Miguel feel nothing more than a needy animal but in a way it was part of Miguel that he couldn’t hate…not when it made sex feel so fucking good.
Yet Miguel wasn’t prepared for his pants to be yanked as far down as M/n could manage before he got sexually frustrated enough to the point he removed his hand from Miguel’s burning cock to O’Neal down in between Miguel’s legs yanking his stained jeans the rest of the way off.
Licking his lips as he stared at Miguel’s pre-covered cock to his twitching hole. Shoving his own fingers into his mouth not knowing just how deputed Miguel’s venom was;
“Don’t give me those sexy eyes, I’m not gonna risk getting paralyzed by that venom of yours again.”
Throwing his head back in frustration Miguel knew M/n was valid in his concerns last time they were lost in this kind of lust he was paralyzed for a good part of the day stuck with a raging boner.
Opening his eyes Miguel looked down at M/n who was sucking on his own fingers coating them in his spit, while his other hand grabbed ahold of Miguel’s thigh guilding it over his shoulder showing off the puckering ring of muscle that craved for him.
Feeling his face heating up to a point Miguel could only moan as fingers began their teasing taunts with each small push, a slight probe. Whines escaped Miguel’s lips as one of his hands gripped his own hair the other made its way to his beading pre cock. Only for the hand to get slapped away.
Shocked, Miguel looked down to M/n whose face was in between the two mounds of ass, his tongue pushing past the ring of muscle, loosening the inside enough for a finger to shove it’s way all the way to his knuckle.
“Amor a la mierda por favor déjame eyacular”
Miguel’s struggling voice whines his free hand reaching down to M/n hair gripping his fingers into the soft messy h/c. Pulling m/ns head closer with each brush made on his prostate. The burning pleasurable sort of pain each time a finger was added along with the tongue that still eases the ring of muscle open.
Stretching Miguel’s ass farther, the heights of Miguel’s nearly climax was at its peak, the knot that formed altightened, heightening his senses even higher than before as blood rushed to his ears the corners of his eyes started to go white with pleasure.
All stopped once the autopilot spoke once more the voice alerting them of their nearly destination in a few moments. Causing the head between Miguel’s shaking thighs to retreat, along with the tongue that Miguel had gotten so used to the warmth of inside him.
Letting out a desperate breath Miguel looked down at M/n. Whose face was just as flushed as Miguel’s as he stared back, his fingered scissoring Miguel’s still tight hole open; preparing him just the way he wanted.
All while he stroked a hand against Miguel’s neglected cock that leaked far more the more teasing M/n did.
“Look at yourself you sexy beast, being scissored and stretched with one hand while being given the best handjob with the other and still you want me. Shock I love it when you let me take care of you baby, so sexy”
Miguel’s hands clasped M/n head weakly hinting at his desperate want for their lips to mean once more. Chuckling M/n continued his assault of his fiancés ass and cock. Their lips barely brushed against the other when the hover taxi sounded;
-“destination reached! Scanning; cleaning required your holo card will be charades as such for a cleaning crew, enjoy your day”-
M/n smirked down to Miguel’s exposed body, exposed to him and him only; Miguel’s muscles that were flexed made the shirt he worse tight and cling to parts of his body that had M/n drooling himself while racking his eyes down the masterpiece of the body before him.
Miguel’s cocked twitching with the lack of attention went for his ass as it tried to pull his fingers deeper. Latching onto Miguel’s soft spot on his neck resulting in slightly taloned hands to grip his shoulder breaking the skin slightly: the pain was worth more of those sweet, addictive moans being pulled from those plump lips.
“Shock Miguel keep doing that and I might let you fuck me instead”
Miguel’s groan tugging on M/n’s suit wanting him to be in the same amount of undress he was right now. Miguel wanted him inside, fucking him raw and primal to worship his body like he knew M/n would.
“cariño, please get me into the house and you can do whatever you want with me!”
His head rolled back as M/ns fingers retreated out from his ass, with a wet sound as they pulled fully out leave his hole twitching for something to clench, to suck deep within itself.An invention M/n would soon take
“When you put it like that how can I say no”
Miguel let out a shaking breath as hands brushed up his chest all the way down to the jeans that were still down at his ankles.
“Shock I can’t stop looking at you; fucking beautiful”
Lips ghosted down Miguel’s thighs, the trail of kisses were near unbearably sweet; it had him breathless all while M/n pulled his Jeans up, his boxers covering most of Miguel’s hyper sensitive cock.
The fabric now covering him up had Miguel panting as he resisted the urge to pull the clothes off his hyper sensitive cock. The fabric brushing against his slightly exposed head had Miguel squeezing his legs together as much as he could as the two made their way into their house.
A house that already held so many memories and would hold more. A clean organized house, with modern furniture decorating the interior of the modern home. The only messy part could be spotted in the kitchen which was getting cleaned already by LYLAs drones.
Miguel’s scenes were in overdrive; the smells of both men perforated the air of the house with their colognes, and now the smell of sweat, and sex that clung to the two. The smells are becoming stronger in their bedroom. A room that houses all the smells that had Miguel's instincts go wide.
It all had Miguel’s head spinning as he turned to M/n who smirked as he threw their suits onto the floor seeing the darkening lust that poured into Miguel’s eyes just before he pulled his other half on top of him.
M/n gasped as their bodies hit the plush bed; Miguel’s face was redder than m/n had ever seen it, his hair was messy sprawling over his face and bed. His fangs catching the dimmed lights as miguel spoke his voice thick with a need to be fucked, to be filled with cum.
“Love you; want more of you”
“Yeah?”
“¡Sí, por el amor de la mierda, por favor, que me jodan!”
M/n practically ripped Miguel's clothes off leaving the far more stronger man naked and bare underneath his body. Miguel’s broad figure relaxed moaning with each light touch M/n left on his skin. Any amount of lips that licked up the sweat that ran down Miguel’s anticipating body.
M/n loved seeing Miguel so lost in the ecstasy of it all. Watching him shiver,buckle, beg underneath him seeing him finally let go of all the stress and pressure that the last few months placed on him. Now he gave in, allowing himself to feel everything all at once.
M/n took his time stripping his own close off his body, giving the desperate Miguel underneath him something to enjoy with each curse word that poured from Miguel’s lips with each piece of clothing thrown elsewhere in the room.
Miguel, sexually frustrated made a move to pull M/n down to him but it only resulted in him being flipped into his stomach. Gasping as hands gripped his hips, pulling them flushed with a straining pair of pants that covered a raging cock under eight rubbing ever so slightly against Miguel’s prepped plum ass.
“Such an impatient daddy; maybe I should punish you-“
“No!”
“I guess you're right, this day is all about you, about making you feel really loved. Is that what you want for me to shove my cock inside this needy hole?”
Miguel’s talons released from his fingers gripping the thick blanket underneath the two, the unstable fibers of the blanket resisted the tearing from Miguel’s claws. Miguel looked over his broad shoulders seeing M/n tossing his pants off the bed along with his boxers leaving them both fully naked, a fact that had Miguel pushing his ass back against the cock that now rubbed its pre leaking head between the two mounds.
Miguel arched his back as the head teased his waiting, ache hole. The heat radiating from m/n legs and cock that pressed flushed with Miguel’s body had him moaning tears of joy ran down his face with the burning pleasure rippled through his ass up to his head.
As m/n started to slowly push the head of his cock inside Miguel. Hearing M/n’s low moans against his lower back, groaning about Miguel’s tightness that clenched around the head.
“Shock, miggy your ass is pulling me in so well”
Miguel moaned loudly at the praise, taking pure bliss of feeling so fucking full of M/n’s cock. Each each raised Miguel’s moans higher and higher, the addictive burn of his ass adjusting around the cock that fox in oh so perfectly had Miguel’s rolling his hips. M/n's hands grip on Miguel’s hips tightening as he holds back to give Miguel some time to breath only for Migue to buck his ass back slamming the rest of the cock into him.
“Fuck miguel! Ah”
“sí se siente tan lleno querido, más quiero todo lo que tienes"
Miguel managed to get his arms under him, his talons gripping tighter on their blankets; the glow from the fibers resisting the tears had the dim room glowing faintly as the illuminated the two pleasure lost men.
Miguel threw his head back moaning loudly as M:n hips gave in fully to Miguel’s demands. An iron grip on Miguel’s hips would bruise the next morning from the intensity of m/ns thrusts had Miguel voice breaking mid moans. In no time m/ns cock found Miguel’s prostate ramming into the bundle of nerves repeatedly.
Electrifying pleasure after pleasure had Miguel screaming as his vision began to turn nearly white as the pleasure blinded him. His knees began to lock up the feeling of the nearly inhuman speed his fiancés thrusted into his tight ass had Miguel railing for more.
Thrusting his own hips back against m/ns the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in their room the smell of sex and sweat became nearly as intoxicating as the pleasure. The nails in his hips trailed separating one wrapping itself around Miguel’s dripping reddening cock pumping the cock in time with his thrusts stimulating Miguel’s nerves even more. Miguel’s mouth hangs open saliva escaping his mouth that is now mixed with his venom making for a sweet but bitter taste to be a constant in his mouth.
Before Miguel had time to realize the other hand trailing threw his hair it was already to last as M/n pulled Miguel’s head back, both arms wrapped around Miguel’s body pulling the pleasure lost man to his own chest allowing lips and tongue to trail down Miguel’s neck leaving hickeys and bite marks in their wake.
Miguel’s moans turned into whimpers as the increased intensity of m/n thrusts became harder and faster the knot in Miguel’s stomachs was reaching its breaking point; Miguel’s cock was leaking an amount M/n's hand was covered in the pre.
“Ah, look down Miggy, fuck my cock is filling you good hun”
Miguel did as he was told with slight resistance from the still tight grip M/n's hands had in his hair. What he saw had Miguel nearly lose his instinct riddled mind as a bus able bulge could be seen with each harsh unforgiving thrusts.
“Go on, fill it, fill just how much I’m filling you baby; rub that cock filled stomach of yours for me.”
Miguel threw his head back as another dead-on hit to his prostate was made, his head resting against M/n shoulder. His hands trailed up to his stomachs moaning at each thrust had the bulge protruding from Miguel’s stomachs to rub against his hands.
M/n was right he was filling Miguel so good, so much filled him Miguel never wanted this to end the feeling the cocks head gave him with each thrust had Miguel’s brain want to believe it wasn’t a cock but his and M/n’s child growing inside of him. A baby bump; that a child was growing inside of Miguel.
“Shock M/n more ¡Lléname, cum dentro de mí por favor! quieres darle a Gabriella un hermano quiere a tus hijos, amor”
“Ah fuck keep t-talking like that and I’ll loose it hun”
“So close to, ah shock, shock please so close! W-anna feel you cum inside me!”
The knot that’s been building in both of the two lovers grew to its breaking point. The pain melded with the pleasure of the pressure build up had Miguel gripping M/n's ass keeping him in place the best he could while his screams of pleasure filled the room ; ropes of cum splattering all over the bed sheets and m/ns still pumping hands.
Wet skin slapping movements filled the air of the couples room; as a tear stained Miguel gasped for any amount of air he could get as his body shook only for a moan to rip be ripped out of him as his hand felt M/ns hips sputtering in a final harder thrust up into Miguel’s tightening hole; the bully Miguel felt twitching harshly against his prostate as his inside were flooded with m/ns hot seed. Made Miguel buckle his own hips into the air as yet another unexpected second orgasam hit him.
Grabbing hold of M/n's hair Miguel sighed, feeling his lover's lips soothing him. Soft lips trailing up Miguel’s neck to his jaw. His hand turning Miguel’s fucked out expression towards him peppering kisses all over Miguel’s face that scrunched up in discomfort as 5the now softened cock slipped from his cum dripping hole.
Leaving Miguel whining yet moaning at the soft attention he was receiving from M/n whose other hand rubbed what was left of Miguel’s cum on the now dirty blanket. Before stroking Miguel’s aching thighs and hips.
“I didn’t hurt you did I?”
Miguel laughed, opening his eyes to stare at his worried fiancé who’s shoulder bore more damage compared to Miguel’s soon to be bruising hips.
“You're asking me? Last I checked I’m not bleeding anywhere”
“Yeah yeah smart ass, fuck I love you so much“
Interweaving his fingers through the h/c hair Miguel breathed in m/ns scent now mostly smelling of Miguel and sex Miguel relaxed basking in their afterglow.
“Yo también te amo, m/n”
Feeling m/n face pressed into Miguel’s neck Miguel relaxed as he continued to play with his lover's hair; feeling him speak against his neck a statement that had Miguel’s chest ache with just how much he loved his man holding him.
“And I love our daughter; I’ll protect both of you the best way I can I swear, I’ll keep you both safe no matter what”
“Now you’re stealing my lines”
A chuckle tickled Miguel’s sensitive neck as they both chuckled while caressing each other's bodies, messaging out the aching muscles.
“Sure am, we deserve a normal life don't you think, a nice long vacation”
“And just how long is this vacation lasting?-“
“The rest our lives; raising our beautiful baby”
The couple intertwined their hands M/n looking down at Miguel’s ring around his finger, the joy and light feeling of finally finding the family he’s spent all his life searching for was here. Had always been here in his arms for years and now another part of their family is one her way as well.
Pulling Miguel’s hand to his lips both Miguel and M/n kissed their ringed fingers, nudging ‘em their head together as they basked in the love they held for each other and their daughter.
Nothing would change that…ever.
Part 6 final
( damn this turned out very long and angsty and soft all at the same time! Hope y’all like it!)
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toxicanonymity · 1 year ago
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the ghost
michael berzatto x reader x carmy berzatto
800 words / smutty imagine
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Summary: Mike, supposedly dead, shows up when Carmy is in Italy. One thing leads to another, and when Carmy gets back he's fine with it.
Warnings: I8+, P in V, cheating but come on
Imagine you're in a relationship with Carmy and you live together in a studio apartment.  He leaves you home while he and Richie take a trip to Italy.  While they're gone, there’s a knock on the door and your face goes cold when you open it and see Michael, Carmy's supposedly dead brother.  You never met Michael when he was "alive" and it's terrifying to have a ghost on your doorstep.  He looks a lot different from the pictures.  He’s filthy and has scars.  But he’s so polite and soft spoken, very disarming.  You let him in and he convinces you not to call Carmy. He tells you how he had to fake his death to save his family, including Carmy, from the mob. He's been living really rough off the grid and his story tugs at your heart.  He says he’ll get out of your way and return when Carmy is expected back. 
You don’t want to see him go.  
You offer him a shower and a hot meal before he leaves.  He doesn’t want to put you out but you insist.  As soon as he goes into the bathroom you remember there’s a trick to the hot water you need to show him. 
You knock and he opens the door wearing just a towel, wrapped very, very low on his torso, exposing his v muscles. More scars on his broad pecs.  You pull your eyes back up and he smirks.   You’re salivating.  He lets you into the small bathroom to show him and before you leave, he holds the towel around himself with one hand and touches your hip with the other and whispers softly, “Hey.”  You lock eyes  “Thanks,” he smiles.  “Really appreciate it.” You leave him in the bathroom for his shower.  Oh boy, this is bad.
You start making spaghetti while he’s showering.  That’s a mistake - this guy makes better spaghetti than anyone.  He insists on showing you a thing or two in the kitchen.  He erotically handles the food. Your hands brush. You share several moments. You drink wine while you cook.  He holds a spoon of sauce up to your mouth for you to taste it and your eyes are desperately fucking each other as you slurp the sauce off.  He drops some on your chest and then brushes it off.  He gets really close to you like you're about to kiss, then awkwardly diverts himself at the last second apologetically.  After dinner, he thanks you for your hospitality and says he’s going to go.  You ask him where he’s going to stay, and he says he’ll figure it out, he always does. You insist he stay there.  
He’s a gentleman and says he’ll sleep on the couch even though he barely fits.  But you get up in the middle of the night and come out to the living room. He sits up, big biceps bulging out of the shirt you let him borrow from Carmy.  “What’s wrong, you okay?”  he asks. You tell him you’re overwhelmed, worried about Carmy, worried about him, moved by his story.  You ask Michael if he’ll hold you while you fall back to sleep. He says he doesn’t think he should.  But a few minutes after you get back in bed, he hears you crying.  He slides in behind you and spoons you.  “Hey, it’s okay, baby.”  His strong arms wrap around you.  “Shhh, it’s okay.” 
He presses gentle kisses into the nape of your neck, then his kisses become wet and his cock hardens against you.  You press your ass back into him and he thrusts against you.  “We can’t,” he mutters as he kisses below your ear and you’ve never been so wet.  “I know,” you say as you move his hand to cup your breast.  But the next thing you know, your shorts are pulled down and so are his, and he’s shoving himself into you and you’re moaning his name.  He fucks you like a man who hasn’t fucked in a very long time.  It feels so right, your bodies connected.  He’s like Carmy, but different.  And his cock is just made for you.  
Michael stays for breakfast, and then stays for the rest of the time until Carmy gets back.  You can’t keep your hands off each other.  When Carmy gets back, he’s shocked and overwhelmed.  The first time you’re eating dinner together, He senses something between you but that’s the least of his concern.  He’s so overjoyed that Michael is alive that he’s more than happy to share you.  Your first night back in bed with Carmy, he's so tender and loving and passionate. After he comes, he looks you in the eyes with those beautiful blue eyes. Then he presses his mouth to your neck and whispers, "thanks, baby"
"For what"
"For taking care of my brother."
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