#and I bought her many many drinks
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look-at-the-stars-tonight · 2 years ago
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Guess who is completely moved out of her old shitty apartment : D
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chinko-kun · 14 days ago
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My adorable little sister, @madam-kyoubin, got me ForceBook and FirstKhaotung merch!!!
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imakle · 1 month ago
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hated my birthday so much before meeting my best friend
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landofgay · 2 years ago
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excited for another day of my one supervisor telling me I'm doing an amazing job and gushing over me vs my other supervisor and my "boss" who's not supposed to still be my boss persay or not in the way she was anyways, they fucking act like I'm scum for trying to get ahead by *glances at notes* helping my supervisors
#like im not trying to take anything from anyone!!! im just trying to help them out!!!#if my supervisor who has a stack of paperwork to fix infront of her now has another folder for an order that#she wasnt in the room for. the other person my 'boss' is exlusively training on paperwork also wasnt in the room for. and the supervisor who#WAS in the room is the one who just fucked up this paperwork for the order#then yeah im gonna offer to help her with this folder since i actually WAS in the room#in fact i got left in charge for the first 2.5 hours cause no supervisors were in the room at all!!!!! UGH#at that point i was the most experienced person in the room by far!!! and i know so much about this company#cause its like. a passion of mine. so i know a lot about the products we sell!!! like a LOT#more than my bosses cause i actually buy a shit ton of our product. so i know how many per product or what colour label or whatever tf#just off the top of my head!!!!#i also am very passionate about NOT SENDING OUT DAMAGED PRODUCT#meanwhile 'boss' says im being too picky#AM I??? CAUSE IVE BOUGHT TWO PRODUCTS NOW WITH MY OWN PAYCHEQUE THAT WERE DAMAGED#ugh christ. im just very tired from this week between all that and the intense drama from earlier this week#im ready to sleep in all weekend#except idiot me made plans for every day this weekend#tonight i hang out with my dad and my bf#tomorrow me and bf go to my coworkers for drinks and viddy games#and sunday we go out of town with bf's sister for drag brunch and thrifting#so itll all be fun i just KNOW im gonna wind up exhausted 😭😭😭 plus truthfully i just wanna show my bf more movies
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girlivealwaysbean · 5 months ago
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how do i politely tell my sister i don't want to stay up all night and drink and party with her
#when we bought it many weeks ago i was sooo looking forward to it#and now mom dad koi ni hai ghar pe#and she wants to drink#im not in the mood man#last time i drank it was with my bestfriend and we had fun for about like an hour and then she spent all night#talking to her ex boyfriend and her situationship guy and i was all alone#i mean normally i don't mind being alone i love hanging out with myself at night#but.#well im so depressed now so drinking isn't fun combine that with 3 am thoughts#and my sister is even worse than my bestfriend lol atleast my bestie cared about me enough to make sure i had a good time#my sister just. lol she won't look up from her laptop all day till like 7 pm even if i need for 2 seconds#and after work too she's on her phone she doesn't want to watch movies or anything together she doesn't want to go out for ice cream#she just wants to talk to her friends and scroll thru fuckinv insta rather than hang out with me#and like fine im used to it if you're really so busy then theek hai karlo kaam but then i hate that im supposed#to pretend everything is okay and we can have fun#she's nursing a broken heart too and im sick of being around broken hearts i miss having friends why does everyone prioritize relationships#over everyone everything#and she can be sooo unnecessarily condescending sometimes#like i was watching eras yesterday on tv while having dinner and i gave up on asking her to hang out watch stuff together#because im like sooooooo done with begging for attention#but she sat and watched it between her scrolling#and today she's like so what will we do not taylor swift eras lol i want to do something really rockinv and fun#like bhai sorry im not interesting and important enough to answer when i ask a question and sorry my interests are childhish and not fun#enough for you please just hang out with your friends then
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p1astr81 · 1 month ago
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baby piastri - op81
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in which: Oscar is learning to take care of his new baby girl.
pairing: dad!oscar piastri x mom!reader
warnings: none I don’t think?? fluff, super short blurb
‧‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅
You woke to the sound of yours and Oscar’s child crying. It’s been only three weeks since you brought her home, but it felt like ages, as you have hardly slept. Oscar usually slept through her cries. You never wanted to bother him, so you took care of it yourself despite his many protests.
Tonight was no different. You didn’t care about the time as the concept of it became irrelevant to you in the past weeks. But at some point late in the night, your little Isla started to fuss. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, walking in zombie-like motions toward the baby cradle. You yawned as you reached into her cot, but your hands were met with nothing but air.
All of your senses immediately switched on high. You became more alert than that time you had three energy drinks in one day. You followed the sound of her cries, your feet moving faster than your brain could even process.
Your movements stopped when you saw Oscar pacing around the living room. He kept his usual calm demeanor, but you knew him so well that you could tell he was internally panicking. Little isla flailed in his arms as he softly bounced her around, hoping it would calm her. It didn’t. Her lungs worked overtime as she cried.
There was an open book on the coffee table. One of the books Oscar bought in preparation for the baby. A book all about parenting a new born. He leaned over to read something before turning to Isla, “You want your passy? Is that it?” He asked, offering the piece of plastic right in front of her mouth, but she swatted it away with her little hand. “No? Okay. Are you hungry then?” His voice was soft and low, overflowing with concern. “Mum isn’t awake but I’m sure there’s some food for you in the fridge.” He smiled lovingly down at your daughter.
“Oscar,” you called softly, just loud enough for him to hear you over isla’s screeching cries. His eyes met yours, an amount of remorse in them that you’d never seen before. He sighed. “I’m sorry, hon. I really didn’t want to wake you. I tried to get her to calm down.” He knew how much you’d been doing. How often you’d wake up and how little you slept. He always tried to help but you were so stubborn on being independent. His attention reverted back to the baby girl, tsk-ing out shushes as he tried to calm her.
You grabbed an unfinished bottle from the day before, and met Oscar in the middle of the room to hand it over. “I don’t know how you do it.” He chuckled and joined you on the couch. Luckily, isla clung to the bottle as soon as it was in her reach, solving the problem of her screaming. “You’ll learn,” you replied with a hum and rested your head on his shoulder. It didn’t take long for you to drift away from consciousness.
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beloveds-embrace · 2 months ago
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can we get Duchess reader yearning for a baby of her own 🥺 imagine there was a Ball in the neighboring kingdom and Duchess!Reader and Duke!Price was invited, celebrating the birth of the Kingdom’s new heir, a baby boy on her fellow Duchess’s arms.
And reader coos at the baby while masking the deep ache in her heart thinking that it’ll be so impossible to have a baby with her husband due to him and his lovers 😢
cue to Duchess!Reader having a heavy heart through out the entire event and even the days after that, until one of our boys asks her what wrong.
(And John having to hold Johnny back bc that nasty dog has been waiting to get his paws on her since forever)
Oh my god yes??? Anon i could smooch your brain right now yes??? This is so good i love it. Sorry for the abrupt ending though, had no idea how to finish it off 😔
Original Post
“Such an adorable little one,” you coo softly, the newborn held delicately and carefully in your arms, swaddled in the baby blue blankets you and John had bought among your other gifts for your fellow Duke and Duchess. “He looks so much like you, I’m in awe.”
Your friend laughs lightly, sipping on her drink. With a soft sigh, she leans closer towards you. The party is in full swing, so many other nobles mingling and networking, but thankfully you and your friend have your own little corner for now and everyone has already congratulated her and her husband.
“So,” she begins, her eyes flickering towards where both of you two’s husbands are speaking. The smiles on their faces are clearly happy, though you aren’t surprised; John had mentioned that he’s already friends with the Duke during the carriage ride. “So. What about you and Duke Price, hm? Any surprises we should prepare for?”
Ah. You had been dreading this.
You sigh, shaking your head. Though the smile returns as you gaze at the napping baby, so small and precious in your arms. With you friend’s permission, you gently kiss his tiny little fists. “Not at all. We are happy as we are.”
And it’s not as if you are lying by any means, oh no. You are happy. Life as Duchess was far, far much better than you had expected it’d be, a lot less restrictive than you had prepared for it to be.
But…
You can’t lie to yourself. You’ve been feeling a sense of discontent from the very second you stepped into the gala venue. Perhaps for even longer, though it hadn’t been especially felt until this moment. Not until you held this baby in your arms.
You want a baby, too, you had realized. Motherhood. A child all yours, calling you momma and toddling into your arms. You had been unable to stop yourself from feeling the little bud of jealousy towards your friend, because you knew you’d likely never experience such a thing due to your unique situation.
John has his own partners whom he loves. You weren’t among that list, and you didn’t particularly enjoy the idea of having sex with another man with the potential risk of your parents, or anyone else, asking for a paternity test because you know someone would ask. Your mother, probably; she was always warning you not to whore yourself out, and your father didn’t even need to say anything-
“My dear?”
John’s concerned voice pulls you out of your thoughts, his hand gentle on your elbow, and it’s only then you realize you had been staring down at the baby with such sadness, so not befitting of such a beautiful gala. So you shake your head, clearing your thoughts, and turn to him and your friend's husband.
When the baby squirms, you coo softly and hand him back to your friends, gentle and careful. That's when you turn to John, giving him a simple smile. "Yes, Your Grace?"
The worry remains on his face, less visible however, and his eyes look over you carefully. Your friends are too busy with their son and showing him off to care about what you two are saying in the corner he’s led you to. "Are you alright?”
As if you’d ever tell him what the issue is. You don’t want to make John feel pressured into this, of all things. You’d rather be divorced than do so, and that should speak volumes on its own.
It’s a silly want, anyways. You have everything you could possible need right now, married and stable. You aren’t about to ruin it with your own two hands.
So you nod your head, and brush away all thoughts of a little baby cradled in your arms. “Yes, I am. I was just lost in thought. Shall we return to the party?”
John observes you for a few seconds more, and then he sighs and nods. “Very well. Would you do me the honor of this dance, my dear Duchess?”
Between the dazzling lights and John’s arms, you can almost forget the lingering desire.
But over the next few days after the gala, it becomes clear to John- to all your the men that something is terribly bothering you. There is a lingering sadness around you so profound even your maids have sensed it, wondering if perhaps you and the Duke have finally had your first fight… but he looks even more more worried and confused than them. You weren’t mad at anyone, that much he could tell, but he didn’t understand the heartache plaguing you.
“…are you sick, my lady?” Kyle asks you one day, placing down a tray of fresh desserts. Your favorites, all made by Johnny himself, yet you barely flick a look towards it.
“Not at all. Thank you, Kyle, but I’m afraid I can’t eat anything at the moment.” Your reply is soft, patient, as it always is, but the furrow in your brows remain and your frown deepens. Kyle hates it. He hates it so, so much. You’ve even stopped taking your usual break-walks, staying inside your room and asking for nothing in particular.
“My lady,” he presses on, voice softer. Comes to stand close to you, and holds his elbow out. “Maybe a walk, then? You look tired. Some sun might do you good- or a picnic? I can pack the desserts and-”
You avoid his eyes and look away, shaking your head. “Thank you, but my answer’s the same, Kyle. I’d just… like to be left alone, please. Could I trouble you to also inform John I won’t be joining him for dinner tonight?”
You are simply glad you managed to hide the little paper you’d been writing on before he came in. Baby names, for the babies you’d never have. It certainly didn’t help make your mood better, but you couldn’t help yourself. Looking at John, or any of them, also made you feel guilty anew.
“…not a problem, my lady. I’ll leave the desserts here for you just in case.”
Several days later, it’s Johnny who comes to you. You are alone in the conservatory, trying hard to get over this stupid, lingering feeling. It’s silly, you know it is, but… ugh.
Johnny says nothing even when you call his name out with a questioning tone, and much to your shock, he kneels down to take your hands in his. It’s so wholly inappropriate, and you look around in fear of anyone seeing.
“No one’s around, m’lady,” Johnny shakes his head, not letting your hands go yet.
“Johnny-“
“No one’s around.” He repeats, firmly, and his eyes gaze at you. “M’lady. Have we made ye angry? Has anyone made you upset? Is my food not to your liking?”
“Johnny…” you sigh, shaking your head. Inwardly, you scold yourself for bothering everyone like this. This should have been your issue alone to solve and hide. “No, no. Nothing like that. I just need some time alone, in general.”
“But why-“
“No particular reason.” You quickly cut him off, gently pulling your hands away. “Please, Johnny. I’ll get better soon, promise. But I just… need time.”
But the desire, the longing, still remains. You can’t even confide in anyone, so you also feel painfully lonely on top of everything else. John is still searching, still trying to find what or who’s made you like this, but not even your closest maids are of help.
Still, while you wished to wallow your misery away in your rooms and office, you didn’t have much choice when you’d received an invitation to the opera troupe funded by the Price duchy; making an appearance was a must, and unfortunately John had a very important meeting that day so Simon is the one to accompany you.
“You’ve been sad lately.” Simon doesn’t beat around the bush, all the lights focused on the stage so you are both draped in shadows, hidden from sight.
You turn to him, a refusal on your lips already-
“No.” He shakes his head. “You aren’t just tired, Duchess. You are sad. Everyone can see it, and it’s making us worried. All of us.” He adds, not letting you latch onto your usual excuse. Performance ignored, his entire attention is on you.
And you are just- too tired. Ashamed of yourself, you sigh.
“It’s awful of me…” your whisper, bottom lip quivering. “I-… I want a baby, Simon.” You admit, so softly and quietly you don’t look at his reaction to see if he’d even heard you in the first place. You shouldn’t be telling him of all people your issues, but- you can’t help yourself. “A child. I want to experience motherhood, but- I don’t, I refuse to put such a burden on John, or get in the way between all of you again-“
You ramble on, not meeting his eyes. Your hands are tembling around the mask you’d taken off, holding it in your lap.
Simon?
Simon can’t take his eyes off your stomach. You. You, pregnant; swollen and glowing with a child. Maybe children, even. Their children. His. He can’t believe this is what has had you so upset for so long; did you think they- John- would say no to you?
“Darling, ” The nickname slips out; he couldn’t help himself. He is glad the no one is paying attention to them, in the higher rows. Simon laces your pinkies together, raising your hand to kiss your knuckles, silencing your worried rambling. “Darling. Let us return home. Staying here isn’t doing you any good. Tonight, I want you to let Kyle spoil you with a warm bath, and for you to eat and then sleep. Rest. Tomorrow, we’ll speak. I’ll inform the troupe leader you weren’t feeling too well.”
“I- I… speak about what? What?”
Simon simply ushers you out, to the awaiting carriage. He doesn’t answer any of your questions, even when you pout and the it makes your lipstick glisten to prettily, though if you can feel that his hands are inappropriately tight around your waist, you simply blame it on your tightened corset.
At home, you are still confused. Simon is acting off, staring at you with a look that makes you all flustered, but you don’t protest when Kyle gently leads you away.
You’ll get your answers tomorrow, you are sure. But in the meantime…
“She wants a baby, John,” Simon groans, repeating the words again. His jacket is thrown off to the side, sleeves rolled up his elbows. Even from here, he can see how John eyes them appreciatively. “A baby, John. Seeing her pregnant-“
Another groan, but the one comes from between John’s thighs. Johnny, hands tied behind his back with Simon’s belt because the second he found out what the issue he was so, so ready to go and beg you to let him fix it. A bairn is what you want, a bairn is what he’ll give you- chunky, adorable, and hopefully looking like you.
John had to hold him back, though. He wants nothing more than to do the same, kiss you breathless and promise he’ll give you as many as you want, but he also knows you need a clear, rested head before he speaks with you.
The thought of seeing your pregnant, though, has his fist tightening in Johnny’s hair.
“I know. Fuck, I know, Si. Tomorrow, I’ll speak to her.”
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sweetshuga · 2 months ago
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MS ✰ String you out ✧ CS
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───~𓆩♡𓆪~───
Warnings⚠︎ Smut!, Suggestive remarks!, strong language!, threesome!, size kink, lowkey breeding kink, pet names, p in v, dp, unprotected sex (do not), oral (m! receiving), squirting, vibe, slight intoxication (but full consent), etc.
Word count. 3k
Note. English is not my first language! Not proofread!
Psa. Matt refers to reader as "pretty" and Chris refers to reader as "ma", just so you don't get confused with the dialogues.
Sum. Everything goes south when you show up at the campus Halloween party in a tiny black witch costume; becoming their prey for the night.
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You weren’t prepared when your best friend came knocking at your door with a big duffle bag, trying to convince you to come to the annual Halloween party, but you had already decided to stay in your dorm room and continue doing your assignments.
"C’mon, don’t be like that, I even bought us matching costumes," she stepped inside, letting you close the door behind her. "I can help you do your make-up, please?" Your friend begged, plopping down on your bed. You sighed and rubbed your temple, "I told you already, I’m not going, that Halloween party will probably be just like a frat one and you know how I am about frat parties."
Your friend crossed her arms with raised eyebrows, "no, it won’t be like a frat party, but I guess there’ll be those fraternity guys there since you know... Campus party, everyone’s gonna be there–" you cut her off, "except for me," causing her to collapse back onto your bed.
"Pretty please?" She pleaded again, jutting her bottom lip out dramatically, making you laugh. "No, like I said–" she cut you off with a groan, "c’mooon, Halloween happens only once a year..." her voice trailed off as a grin made its way onto her lips, "if you go this once, I won’t bug you again, like I promise I won’t ask you to come to frat parties with me."
You couldn’t help but be tempted with the deal, clearing your throat as you looked at her, "you serious?" She nodded vigorously, "yeah, I am, I am dead serious, so? will you?" You sighed and nodded, eliciting a happy "yay" from her.
She immediately spilled the contents from her huge duffel bag, tons of make-up products and two matching witch costumes. You picked one up, inspecting it. The costume was incredibly short and could almost pass off as a long shirt.
"Are you serious? This is what you picked?" She gave you a deadpanned look, "it’s Halloween! You know what they say, the only time of the year to be as slutty as you want." She nudged your arm, grinning, "plus I bet guys would go nuts when they see you in this."
𓆩♡𓆪
Your friend helped you with your make-up, and as you looked in the mirror, you felt like you were someone else, in a good way. The costume was short, but it made you feel a bit more confident than usual. The black heel boots you had lying around – that you’ve been wanting to wear for so long – seemed to match the vibe of the dress.
The long sleeves and overall style of the costume had already started to grow on you. "Not too bad," you said as you curled your hair, "yeah? told you so," your friend grinned triumphantly, making you roll your eyes in a playful manner.
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The moment you arrived at the party, your ears immediately rang at the loud music, "fuck, why is it so loud here?" you shouted to your friend, trying to get your words across the short distance, but the music drowned out your voice.
"It’s always this loud, you’re just not used to it, c’mon, let’s get drinks!" She dragged you towards the table of drinks, expertly weaving through the crowd. Alcohols that you didn’t even know the names of were stacked in an oddly neat way along with soft drinks, water and way too many solo cups.
A girl standing by the table, dressed as the grinch, offered to make you and your friend drinks, halloween specials. As you were sipping on your drink, you noticed a pair of guys, almost identical looking.
"Holy fuck, you know who they are?" you nudged your friend, jerking your head at the direction of the guys dressed as vampires. She followed your gaze and looked at them, "yeah?" she chuckled, "you don’t?" Shaking your head as you kept your gaze on the guys, unable to take it off of them.
"Of course you don’t, you’re always buried in schoolwork," she clicked her tongue, "they’re quite famous around campus you know?" You let out a huff, taking another big gulp of your drink, groaning at the burn of the mixed alcohols. "So? Who are they?"
"The one with the cap is Chris and the one that doesn’t have a cap is Matt, obviously, they’re identical triplets, but I don’t think Nick’s here today." You let out an "oh" sound of understanding before you took another sip of your drink.
"Heard they got a bro code or whatnot, like they wouldn’t hit the same girl," your friend shrugged, telling you all she knew about them, "yeah... couldn’t care less, c’mon let’s just dance or something," you said pulling your friend away from the table of drinks and onto the dance floor. You couldn’t help but feel interested despite your words.
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After one too many drinks and a few stolen glances later, you found yourself in a bathroom, two pairs of hands roaming over your body while you shared a kiss with one of the guys—the one with the cap.
The other one kissed your neck, trailing it down to your collarbone and leaving love bites there before going back to your neck. The one with the cap broke the kiss, "you know our names ma?" He breathed out, "uh... you’re Chris, and he’s Matt, right?" you asked hesitantly, the slight intoxication making your mind a jumbled up mess.
"Mhm—bingo, pretty," Matt whispered, his lips grazing just under your earlobe, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach as they continued to kiss and caress your body, your body reacting to every word and touch from them, making their faces light up with smirks.
Their fake fangs nipped at your skin, causing you to gasp softly each time. "Say, let’s go to a more comfortable place?" Chris suggested, "Yeah, can’t really do much in a bathroom," Matt chuckled as he added.
They led you out of the bathroom and weaved through the crowd of people dancing. You tried to find your friend to tell her you were going but you couldn't find her in the crowd. Suddenly, you got a message and a photo from her apologizing saying that she was gonna head home with her boyfriend since it was getting late. How convenient.
You sighed and let the guys lead you out of the party, your costume rode up ever so slightly as you tried to balance on the heel boots in your slightly tipsy state. You were very much aware of your surroundings and the two fellas, dressed as vampires, leading you towards their car.
"Where are we going?" You asked, a bit puzzled but willing. Matt and Chris both chuckled in unison at your confused state, "oh yeah, we’re gonna go to our place, you mind?" Chris asked as he looked back at you, "I mean, if you don’t feel comfortable with that, we could always hit up a hotel," Matt shrugged.
You hummed, looking back and forth between them before making your decision, "no, yeah, i’m good with your place," they both visibly relaxed and grinned, "alright then, hop in, pretty," Matt said as he opened the backseat door.
𓆩♡𓆪
The drive to their place was fairly fast, accompanied by small talks and laughter, but that quickly turned into heated kisses and breathy moans once you got inside their house. Stumbling into one of their rooms, they started to strip you out of the skimpy costume.
Gently pushing you on the bed before they started to strip themselves, your gaze raked over their bodies as you waited on the bed, biting your lip in anticipation. Once they were matching you in nakedness, they sat on either side of you, starting to lavish attention to your body once again.
"Fuck, you’re so beautiful ma, so fucking beautiful," Chris murmured against the swell of your breast, "mhm... so pretty" Matt whispered an agreement in your ear before kissing along your jawline, his hand caressing your body, slowing inching down to cup your mound.
You hissed softly when his fingers made in contact with your swollen clit, slick with arousal, and throbbing for attention. The brothers quickly picked up on your growing need and desperation as they saw just how wet you had become.
Your folds glistened in the dim light of the bedside lamp, the obvious need evident in your tone when Chris plunged a finger inside your tight heat. "Fu—ck," you moaned softly, your breathing a lot more ragged now that he was moving his digit in and out of you, slipping in a second finger and smirking at how you seemed to suck in his fingers.
"Someone’s eager," Matt chuckled, his voice a bit deeper than usual, betraying his arousal. The pads of his fingers started to circle your sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting slightly louder moans from you.
The feeling was already so pleasurable, and you didn’t know if it was the alcohol making you feel more than usual or just the brothers themselves, either way you knew you were incredibly turned on.
They adjusted your position, easily manhandling you, but their touch was gentle– almost tender if you will. The new position gave them more to work with. You were on your hands and knees and they stood on their knees on either side of you, still squeezing and caressing every inch of skin they could touch.
They were big – huge even – it made you feel a bit nervous. They were easily 10", and who knows how thick, standing tall and proud. You gulped softly when Chris gripped your hip with one hand and led his length towards your aching pussy. The tip of his cock slid up and down your slit, making you whine and push back against him.
They chuckled at your needy gestures and sounds, "you’re so responsive ma, ’s intoxicating," Chris emphasized his words with a slap on your ass, causing you to jolt and whine, his hand gently caressing the reddening skin.
Matt, being the one in front of you, caressed your cheek and made you look up at him by lifting your face by your jaw. Smirking when he saw the desperation in your eyes, "what’s up pretty? Can’t handle a little teasing?" He spoke with faux sympathy, making you all the more desperate.
Before you could open your mouth to speak, you felt the sudden stretch, causing you to move forward—trying to get away from the sensation, only to be held in place by two pairs of hands. Chris clicked his tongue, "relax ma," his hands squeezed your ass, sinking his fingers in your plush flesh as he moved forward, filling you completely.
"Oh fu—ck, Chris too big–" your moans got muffled when Matt fed you his length, groaning at the sensation of your mouth on him and the vibrations from your moans as Chris took you from behind.
Chris’ pupils dilated when he saw the way your ass recoiled against his hips with each deep and slow thrust, he gripped your hips tighter and surged forward with increasing fervor. The force of it pushed you forward, each thrust making you involuntarily deepthroat Matt, making them both groan at the pleasure.
Chris suddenly pulled out, and stood up, "I think I’ve got something nice." Matt chuckled when he understood what Chris implied and pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop. You looked at them confused, feeling empty and still aching with need.
A few minutes later, Chris came back with a vibrator and a bottle of lube in hand. You blinked rapidly as your gaze flickered between the brothers, making them chuckle, "don’t worry pretty, we’ll make you feel good, ’promise." Chris sat on the bed behind you, getting in position again.
"Alright ma, up," he playfully slapped your ass before helping you back in the position you were in moments ago, but this time you were facing Chris with Matt behind you. Your moans filled the room once again when Matt entered you, stretching you deliciously.
Your moans were quickly muffled by Chris’ cock, which you eagerly let in your mouth, and the pleasure was already bordering on too much. Your body tensed when you felt vibrations on your clit. Matt groaned loudly when he felt you clench around him like a vice, his hips picking up pace in response.
Your moans vibrated around Chris’ shaft, making him buck his hips faster, fucking your mouth as he gripped your hair in a makeshift ponytail. Your eyes rolled back briefly as Matt hit that spot deep within you, the one that made sparks dance behind your eyes, the one that made you moan louder.
The vibrations of the vibe increased, making your legs shake as you tried to ground yourself from the intense pleasure that you wondered if you could take any more of. That was when Matt held you by your waist and started to target a specific spot—your g-spot.
The feeling of him hitting your g-spot with such precision and the vibrator doing its job on your throbbing clit, made you squirm, trying to get away from the intensity of it all, but their hands kept you in place. With a loud muffled moan you squirted, unable to warn them due to Chris’ cock in your mouth. The brothers let out breathy chuckles when they saw the mess you were making, but didn’t stop nevertheless.
They followed you soon after, their releases filling up your holes. You couldn’t even keep yourself steady on your legs and arms anymore, it was all threatening to buckle under you any second.
Carefully, they laid you down, and seeing the wrecked state you were in just seemed to fuel their desires further. Their semi-hard lengths hardened once more as they gazed down at you. Your disheveled hair, the hickeys adorning your body, Matt’s release trickling out of you and Chris’ dripping down your chin.
Matt’s hand came up to caress your side, causing a breathy sigh to escape your lips, "you think you can go one more round pretty?" Chris chuckled softly, "mhm—ma, don’t think we can get enough of you, think you can take us both?"
"Both? like at the same time?" you whispered, your voice already hoarse from overuse. They nodded, chuckling as they helped you into a sitting position, "yeah, we’ve got lube, but it’s fine if you’re not up for it, pretty—" you cut him off, "well, I don’t mind, i mean... if it can fit that is..." your voice trailed off as you looked down at their laps.
"Don’t worry, ma, we’ll make it fit," is all you heard before they got in position. Matt laying with you on top of him and Chris behind you. The pop of the lube cap made your body shiver in anticipation, the mildly cold oil jolting every nerve as it ran down your slit, making you shudder.
Matt slowly pushed inside, eliciting a soft moan from you, and as you finally adjusted to his size, Chris nudged himself on your already full pussy. "Shh— ’s alright, pretty, just relax," Matt cooed from under you, his arms holding you in place as Chris entered you from behind. You squirmed under their touch, moaning loudly, and the stretch being too much, too big.
Chris grunted at the tightness as he pushed inside, stilling when he bottomed out inside you, "shit ma, so fuckin’ tight," he hissed through his teeth. Matt chuckled, his voice huskier, "yeah, you like how we stretch you, pretty? how fuckin’ big we are?" You could only mumble a "yes" that sounded more like a whimper.
They let you adjust to their sizes—the fullness and the stretch. Their hands caressed your body soothingly, whispering sweet nothings in your ears, and kissing your shoulders and neck.
You finally relaxed around them, moaning softly at the sudden pang of pleasure from being filled to the brim. Your pleasure didn’t go unnoticed by Matt and Chris, chuckling to themselves as they started to move. Your world blurred as you felt an immense pleasure you’ve never felt before.
Your body moved on its own, meeting their thrusts, wanting more of that delicious feeling. And all that only made them move faster – harder – thrusting into you with renewed fervor. Your hands clutched whatever you could hold, grounding yourself so you wouldn’t get consumed by the pleasure.
"Fu—ck pretty, so fuckin’ tight," Chris mumbled an agreement, both of them holding you in place as they took what they wanted. You could only hold on, and moan for them. "Shit, gonna fill you up so good— swell you with my cum, ma," Chris groaned, "Yeah, fuck— you ready for us pretty?" Matt added, muffling his sounds of pleasure on your shoulder.
You mumbled a plea for them to cum inside you—to which they gladly did, groaning and moaning as they filled you up. Their combined release spilled out from the sides, making a mess.
Gently pulling out from your well-used hole, their chests heaved with exertion. In spite of their softening cocks, they couldn’t help the feral, almost animalistic, feeling when they saw the sight of their mixed release trickling out of your pussy.
They both groaned under their breaths before exchanging knowing glances, a silent conversation between them, and slowly alerting you about their insatiable desires for you. "You okay, pretty?" Matt’s hand caressed your cheek while Chris squeezed your ass, "we’re not done with you ma, not by a long shot."
They chuckled as they saw you look at them surprised, but didn’t protest or say no, instead pulled them closer – a silent plea for more. "We’re gonna fuck this pussy so good," Matt whispered in your ear, "and fill you up with our spend until you swell with our babies," Chris added, whispering in your other ear.
Their words were filled with promises, and that alone made you feel immense pleasure, a need for more.
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The next morning, you woke up with a bad headache, and sore all over. It wasn’t a surprise that you had a hangover but it was a surprise when you became aware of your surroundings. You were in an unknown room, entangled with not one, but two guys. It didn’t help that they were brothers, identical brothers.
"Heard they got a bro code or whatnot, like they wouldn’t hit the same girl." Your friend’s words echoed in your head. Guess it wasn’t true after all, their bro code.
𓆩♡𓆪
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wc. 3,086
Isa's notes. I've never written a Chratt fic before, or anything with two love interests, or a threesome in that matter so like... my bad if it's shit.
xoxo 𓆩♡𓆪
Masterlist 𓆩♡𓆪 Taglist
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Taglist: @strnilolover @mattsfavoritestar @sophand4n4 @tpwktahlz @lilyyliloo @slut4angstt @pvssychicken @poolover123 @loud-sturniolos @inlovewchrissturniolo @queenshet @chrisstopherfilmed @grace-sturnz @billiesbabya
© sweetshuga
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norrisjpg · 5 months ago
Text
novacane - ʟɴ⁴
in which, lando is completely and utterly obsessed with his girlfriend, and can't seem to keep his hands off of her - especially when she's in that dress.
contains: NSFW; smut, oral (f recieving), fingering, body worship, p in v, unprotected sex, squirting, cockwarming; tiny bit of fluff at the end.
lando norris x unnamed female character
...
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...
lando thought he was actually going to die. there in rome, he was sure of it. they had been together for two years at this point, and don't get him wrong, she always looked good - but something about the air in rome was making him fall in love with her all over again, and he was going feral.
the couple had decided to spend a few days in italy together, first venice, second maranello, and last rome.
venice had been brilliant, spending a few days with max and pietra, exploring the city together, and many other late night activities. maranello had been nothing if not wholesome, that being where his beloved girlfriend's family lived - lando having rekindled his bromance with her dad and older brother, and not to mention seeing his favourite dog again.
"can you help me with my heels, baby?" her voice snapped him out of his trance.
fucking hell.
she had walked out of the bathroom, looking like a divine treat for him to devour. it was a sundress - her sundresses always did unholy things to him - of course, and her tanned skin looked particularly endearing against the flimsy white material.
his mouth hung agape, eyes flitting over her body rapidly. his mouth could have (and almost did) water at the sight of his girlfriend, looking oh-so-innocent with her pretty eyes and glossy lips.
again, lando thought he was actually going to die.
"yeah, come here." lando gestured with his fingers, getting up so she could perch on the edge of the bed.
he got to his knees before her, grabbing her ankle gently and delicately tightened the clasp until it clung to her skin snugly, repeating the same action on her other ankle.
"thankyou, sweetheart." she responded, running her fingers through his hair briefly.
yep, he was definitely going to die.
...
if he thought he was going to die earlier, he was dead now.
she was sat there, fiddling with the necklace he'd bought her a few months ago, blinking at him through her lashes as she spoke about their plans for the rest of the summer break.
he could have actually fall to his knees in the restaurant right there and then - she looked utterly and completely irresistible.
"can we go now, please?" lando pleaded for around the third time.
he had asked her after they had finished his main course, and then after they'd finished their desserts, and now when they were having another drink.
"god, what's gotten into you?" she laughed as she swallowed the remainder of her wine.
"nothing, i just want to go home." he shrugged, trying not to let her onto the fact he was planning every single thing he was going to do to her once that hotel room door was closed.
"okay, weirdo." she shook her head with another laugh, before politely asking for the bill.
technically, it was her turn to pay for dinner - but lando never let her pay anyway. his credit card was being swiped across the card machine before she could even get hers out of her purse.
"let's go, come on."
...
as soon as that hotel door had latched shut behind her, lando turned into some sort of rabid animal with no self control.
she found herself pinned up against the door very quickly, dress bunched up at her hips as he began his assault on her neck.
“god… needed you since i seen you earlier.” lando murmured, hoisting her legs up around his waist.
“yeah?” she nodded, arching her eyebrows as her eyes fluttered shut.
“mhm.” he hummed, his hand shifting to her lower back as she was then moved to her feet. “look so pretty — turn around for me?”
she spun her heel slowly, allowing lando to effortlessly pull on the delicate white bow, the thin straps loosening and falling below her shoulders. his hand trailed back down her arms, pulling the dress down and allowing it to fall to a puddle at their feet.
“so gorgeous.” he whispered, hot breath fanning the back of her shoulder — before his hands whipped her around to face him again.
"you think?" she responded quietly.
"of course, pretty girl." he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, before spinning her round and walking her backwards to the bed - eye contact very, very intense.
a gentle shove rendered her flat on the bed, propped up on her elbows shortly after her back hit the soft mattress. just as he'd done earlier, lando dropped to his knees and now started to remove her heels.
god, she looked divine.
she was now only wearing the prettiest white lace underwear, but lando was trying not to focus on it - due to the fact that he was painfully hard, and that if he looked at her, all of his self-control would fly out of the hotel door (not that she would have minded that.)
a quick toss of the heels behind him made soft thuds in the room, but lando was already softly kissing up from her ankle to her inner thighs, rendering her unable to think about anything else.
"god..." she breathed out, tossing her head back as he skimmed his nose over the delicate fabric of her panties.
a soft chuckle reverberated through her from lando, he was literally laughing into her pussy - how hot could this man get?
"someone's needy." he whispered, lips brushing against the lace once again, resulting in her clenching around nothing.
"shut up." she whined. "just do something, please?"
"as you wish, baby." he mumbled, tugging her underwear down effortlessly and discarding them across the room.
he was like a man starved, denied of watching his girlfriend squirm underneath him for a mere few hours - that seemed to feel like years.
not that she needed any sort of lube, she was soaking wet by the time lando's thumb circled over her clit agonising slowly, but lando felt it necessary still to let a string of his saliva drip down on her aching cunt, spreading it adequately around with his tongue.
she was just about to beg, but he latched his lips onto her before the pleads could leave her lips. the noises made between his lips and hers were disgustingly hot, his fingers slowly beginning to prod at her entrance, teasing her tightness. his tongue drew shapes on her clit, he was spelling his fucking name, and she was seeing stars when a thick middle finger slid into her.
over and over again the same shapes danced over her heat, and lando slowly began to curl his finger to push against her g-spot. an almost pornographic moan left her lips as she felt the pressure of his index finger alongside his middle finger inside of her - whines and whimpers now a constant sound in the room.
they weren't just from her either, when her hips pushed into his face, lando wasn't ashamed to let a low groan out, the vibrations making her back arch up off of the bed - only for her to quickly be pushed back down by a veiny hand.
"fuck.. lando..." she moaned airly, a hand clutching onto his hair for dear life.
the soft bite to her clit was what sent her over the edge and into space. her legs shook around his head, the most lewd moans tumbling loudly from her lips. he pumped his fingers in and out of her and kitten-licked her through her orgasm, allowing her to float on her cloud of ecstasy for a little longer as she spasmed around him.
"you with me, pretty?" he softly spoke, now having moved his hands from her heat to her ribs, gently rubbing his thumbs up and down.
"yeah." she panted, nodding her head. "so fucking good."
he laughed airily, pressing soft kisses from her lower stomach up to her pillowy lips - swollen from how much she'd bitten down on them over the past few minutes.
their kiss was soft and gentle, she could taste herself on his lips, making her grow all-the-more wet again.
"take this off." she murmured into his lips, making a small noise resembling both a laugh and a whimper leave his lips as she tugged at his shirt.
he began to unbutton his shirt, while her hands frantically made their way down to his dress pants, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. both items of clothing were quickly a puddle on the floor, his boxers swiftly following.
lando's necklace dangled down and rested just below her chin, then sitting comfortably on the centre of her neck as he kissed her again - teeth clashing and tongues pushing against each other for dominance (lando won, obviously.)
the hand that wasn't holding his body up above her, made its way down to his erection, running it up and down her slit to lube it.
breaking the kiss, the look in his eyes asked her the inevitable, and a quick nod followed.
the tip of his cock pressed into her, still stretching her out. you would have thought that after almost three years of very frequent sex, both would get used to the other - but no, every time they felt each other, it was like the first time all over again.
she quite literally fluttered around him, eyes squeezing shut as he bottomed out a few moments later. a low groan escaped his lips, cut short when he realised her eyes were closed.
"hey, eyes open, baby." he whispered, tapping her cheek gently. "want to see the look in your eyes when you fall apart, yeah?"
pretty eyes met his once again as she blinked up at him, some form of a moan leaving her lips as he spoke to her - how could such dirty words come from a man who looked like a fucking angel?
"good girl." he nodded, pressing a small kiss to her nose as he began to slowly thrust in and out.
now, usually, rough sex was lando's thing - but there was something about the way she looked up at him, it made him want to fuck her nice and gentle, slow and deep - so he did.
his strokes were fucking delicious, taming the fire in her lower belly in just the right way - a way that was building the indescribably incredible knot thick and slow. something was different, it was overwhelmingly good - the softest yet neediest moans tumbling from her lips at an almost alarming rate.
maybe every other deep thrust, she'd clench around him, even more blood rushing to his throbbing cock - he wasn't really sure if it was her that was pulsing around him or it was himself, but either way, it felt fucking good.
his lips made their way to her boobs subconsciously, feeling as if he'd neglected them. swirling his tongue around one hard nipple, he slid two fingers inside of her mouth to wet his fingers - before returning them to the nub his mouth wasn't paying delicate attention to, pinching and pressing the pads of his fingers to them.
sensitive from her previous high, the next one was encroaching quickly, warmth spreading to her inner thighs and lower tummy. he could immediately tell she was close. there were tell-tale signs - loud moans would turn to quiet, short, sharp whimpers, she'd become grabby with her hands - needing something to clutch onto as she fell into the abyss of ecstasy - simultaneously clenching around him so tightly that sometimes she'd accidentally restrict his movement - and all were currently taking place.
"go on, pretty girl, cum for me."
she was so gone.
lando's back suffered as her nails scratched into it, leaving red lines painted across the muscles - his trainers wouldn't ask any questions, it's not as if they hadn't seen worse marks before anyway.
she tried so so hard to keep her eyes open, but it was just too hard. her eyes fluttered closed as her mouth hung agape, eyebrows arched as her nose scrunched up a little - lando wanted the image etched onto his retinas.
she gushed all over him, pretty liquid squirting from her cunt, painting his abdomen shiny as the juices splattered on him.
she thought she was going to die, and she would happily like this.
that was actually all it took for him. hot ropes of cum spilled deep into her, stuffed up against her cervix as he tried his hardest to keep thrusting into her - his hips stuttering as he started to get a little overstimulated.
slowly but surely, the two came down from their mind-blowing highs, lando rolling them over so she was laid on top of him, her walls still unconsciously clenching and fluttering around him.
"you good, baby?" he whispered, his hands rubbing up and down her back.
"think so, tired now." she smiled wearily, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, before letting her head roll down into the crook of his neck.
"want to sleep or clean up?" lando asked softly, running his fingers through her hair.
"sleep, definitely."
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sacredsorceress · 3 months ago
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Spell on You / Logan Howlett
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pairing: bestfriend!logan x f!witch!reader summary: when logan finds out another man bought you a drink at a halloween party, your relationship changes word count: 2.2k a/n: scott is an ass because i just know movie!cyclops would love to mess with logan's love life ('97 scott stays too busy for this). this is a bit rushed but i hope you enjoy!! warnings: reader wears a dress and thigh highs (slay), alcohol consumption, mention of smoke, jealousy, fluff, classic bff to lovers trope
logan masterlist | inbox | full masterlist
The bum. bum. bum. of the music echoed throughout the establishment, vibrating against its walls and floorboards. The sea of bar-crawlers intent on having the worst of hangovers in the morning were shoulder to shoulder, bumping against Logan as he made his way through the crowd to you.
The room reeked of smoke of various kinds and if it hadn't been for the overworking of the fans above, Logan was sure he would've gotten high secondhand. But it was Halloween night- certain factors were out of his control.
Though, like a lighthouse in the night, Logan heard your voice beckoning him over to the bar.
"Boooooooo!" You shouted, glass in your hand. "You were supposed to dress up!"
Logan smirked at your complaint, leaning against the bar.
"Yeah?" He asked. "'Cause you're so original?"
Logan's eyes trailed from your thigh high boots to your dress to finally, a witch's hat. Being a witch yourself, the irony was unavoidable.
"Very creative, sweetheart."
You felt a heart skip a beat at your best friend's pet name.
In shock of many, you and Logan had become fast friends. The man who had always managed to have a perpetually grumpy demeanor about him had paired perfectly with you. You were able to brush off Logan's jokes, matching them with your own in a way that had escalated so far as to make your fellow X-Men wonder if the two of you had begun to speak your own language.
"At least it's a costume, Logan." You argued. "What are you meant to be?"
"-Oh I've got this one."
Scott.
Any inclination of joy written on Logan's face was quickly erased.
"A dick?" Scott said, slinging his arm around your shoulder. "I've gotta say Logan, you've nailed it."
Logan rolled his eyes, inching closer to the two of you as a couple nudged against him to order at the bar. Noting the drink in your hand, Logan shifted the conversation.
"I thought I told you I was buying tonight?"
Your eyes lowered from Logan's to the drink in your hand. You traced the rim of the glass as you shrugged.
"Oh this-“
Scott interrupted:
"Guy over there bought it for her." Scott said, a shit-eating grin on his face as he pointed to the opposite end of the establishment. "Told her he'd be back later 'to get to know her better'."
You felt yourself grow warm under Logan's gaze, refusing to meet his eyes.
Lately yours and Logan's relationship had become more complicated, blurring the lines between friendship and something more. Pet names like sweetheart and princess flowed out of his mouth without a second thought. You had stopped going on dates with new men- something about it feeling wrong when you and Logan had... whatever you had. He was your best friend, that you were sure of. But, with Logan's eyes burning a hole through you, you wondered if he still felt that way.
You had been hoping to keep the drink a secret and avoid speaking to the man later in the night, but you should've known that Scott and Logan's rivalry would make any chance of that impossible.
Logan's eyes trailed from you to the man Scott was pointing to across the room. He looked about your age, dressed with a cloak around his shoulders and a pair of cheap plastic teeth slipping from his mouth as he laughed with his friends.
Logan scowled, raising his eyebrow at you.
"You into... that?"
You shrugged, hiding your eyes beneath the rim of your hat.
"It's just a drink, Logan." You said. "He probably forgot about me anyway."
Holding his gaze, Logan slowly nodded, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
"You want your usual?"
You furrowed your eyebrows.
"What are you talking about, Lo?" You asked. "I have a drink."
Logan shook his head, tapping his fingers against the bar to get the bartender's attention.
"I'm not gonna sit here and watch you have some other guy's drink." Logan said firmly. "Now, what are you having? 'Cause you either tell me, or I'm ordering for you."
You felt a burning sensation in your chest as your pulse quickened.
You were used to Logan's stubbornness and protective regard for those he cared about, but you had never seen him so firm with you before. You were someone who could handle yourself and as much as he worried about you, he had never claimed you in such a way as he did now.
If you hadn't known better, you would have thought he was jealous.
"My usual."
You watched as he leaned over the bar, ordering the both of your drinks from the bartender.
The lighting in the bar was dim. Most of the things that you could make out were highlighted by an array of multicolored LED lights that had been flickering throughout the room.
The light above Logan's head flicked from green to purple, showcasing the sheen of sweat that had begun running down his temple from the capacity of the party. His sleeves were rolled to his elbow, the veins in his arms protruding as he leaned against the counter top.
Sometimes you wondered what it felt like- to be one of the women who had the opportunity to touch Logan. You had had passing touches here and there but you wondered if you could feel the weight of his adamantium bones in your hand- whether his skin remained rough despite his regenerative abilities.
The thoughts were cruel. He was your friend.
But then again, were you really his?
Logan handed you your drink, leaning the small of his back against the counter. Gingerly taking the glass from his hands, your fingertips graced his skin.
The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, feeling the vibrations of the DJ's music against your feet. You listened to indistinguishable chatter rattle throughout the building.
"He said he liked the 'juxtaposition of my face to the costume'." You said, referring to the man who bought you a drink. "I'm not even sure that he used the word right."
A smirk rose onto Logan's face.
"What a dick." Logan scoffed, nursing his whiskey.
You laughed along with him, nudging your elbow into his side.
"He is, isn't he?" You joked. "I bet he's super pretentious."
Logan glanced down at you, noticing the small smile that graced your lips as you met his eyes.
God, he felt silly. He was over two hundred years old and yet, he found himself with a crush on a woman and unable to tell her. With anyone else, he would have made a move the second he saw them. But you were his friend- his closest friend.
You had a relationship that meant more to him than anything in his life. Did he want you? Yes, but he wasn't going to be the one to admit it and scare you off. It had to be you.
So Logan put out his feelers and afforded himself plausible deniability- calling you sweetheart, buying you drinks... sitting by your side after a mission went sideways. However, there was something about the two of you sharing a life in the mansion that made him forget that other men could see you the way that he did.
Seeing the multicolored lights illuminate your skin and the way your eyelashes batted as you smiled up at him, Logan was reminded that he didn't have forever.
"Not your thing?" He asked.
Logan asked it casually. He was still leaned over the bar, but his body had turned to encase yours- one arm snaking itself around your back while the other held the whiskey glass.
The space between you grew hot and you could feel his warm breath against your face. The scent of the cologne that you had gotten him for his birthday drifted up your nose as he hovered closer.
Sometimes you felt that Logan was off living a dozen lifetimes in his head despite standing directly in front of you, but here... now... his focus was entirely on you and you knew he was waiting on your answer with bated breath.
You don't know whether it was the liquor or the realisation that the wolverine had placed you at the center of his universe, but you gained a confidence you had lacked in the weeks since your relationship shifted.
Glancing at his empty glass, you flicked your hand, filling it up.
"No," You sighed as your eyes trailed up his body. "I like them a bit... rougher around the edges."
This, Logan decided, was your sign. You were pushing the boundaries just as he had done, seeing if he'd take the bait.
Logan's eyes narrowed as he leaned in further. The music in the bar was getting increasingly louder as the night went on and Logan's lips were now inches from your ear, sending goosebumps down your neck.
"That right?" Logan asked.
"Mhm."
Logan could hear your heart pounding in your chest and felt peace in knowing that his was doing the same. This wasn't the same as his other ventures- he wouldn't wake up in the morning to find an empty space in his mattress where you had been the night before. What you two had would be permanent, he told himself; a fixture in an otherwise chaotic life like his.
In the life of a man with regeneration, he rarely worried about what happened next. But with his lips grazing the skin of the woman he loved most, Logan could feel a drop of whiskey hit his skin- fallen from the glass that sat in his shaking hand.
Then, he felt your hands push gently against his chest. And his world came crashing down.
Your eyes meeting his, you shook your head.
"I love you, Logan."
For anyone else, this would've been confirmation. But Logan had heard these words from you a hundred times. You loved him... platonically. He felt the wind knocked out of him at what he thought was resignation.
Pulling away, Logan nodded.
"I love you too, sweetheart."
Hearing him say it in the same voice he always did- the dismissive tone meant to mask any indication of care- you gripped his shirt, forcing him to look at you.
"No." You said firmly. "I love you. I'm saying this can't be a one night thing, Logan. I love you."
Logan saw the desperation in your eyes and couldn't hold back. He slammed his drink against the bar and held your face in his hands.
"Wouldn't dream of it."
His thumbs brushed against your cheeks, thinking that as silly as it was, what he had been waiting for was finally happening. No matter the amount of times he had touched you, this time was different. As strong as you were, he was afraid to ruin the precious object he was holding in his hands- you and your future.
Logan swore your cheeks were softer and the scent of your perfume had wrapped himself around your finger.
"Say it back, Lo."
The sound of his name rolling off your tongue was enough confirmation he needed. Pulling your face to his, Logan's lips crashed against yours.
Your fingers never left his shirt, pulling him closer to you as you hummed into the kiss. Logan's hands moved to lay against your waist. The noise of the bar fell away as Logan focused on your breathing and the skip of your heartbeat as he squeezed you tighter.
When he heard the familiar, hypnotic hum of your magic, he pulled away only slightly.
In the heat of your kiss, a forcefield had formed around the two of you. When you noticed the golden shimmer of your magic, you pulled your hands way from Logan, bringing the forcefield down with it.
"Sorry."
Logan smirked.
"Don't gotta be worried," He said, running his thumb against your cheek. "You're safe with me."
Logan wasn't sure if he'd be able to always keep you safe in the hectic life that you two shared, but he would be damned if he wouldn't die trying. You two fit together like pieces of a puzzle and although he wasn't sure how it would work, if one thing was for sure- you weren't losing him.
"I love you too."
Holding you in his hands, the knowledge finally settling in that you were his, this dingey bar was the last place he wanted to be.
And it was as if you read his mind.
"Can we get out of here?"
Glancing around the room, Logan noticed two things: one being that half the eyes in the room were on you since your accidental forcefield, and the other, Scott barreling over through a crowd of college girls towards you. These two things paired with the fact that the woman of his dreams was standing beside him, Logan was more than ready to, kindly, get the fuck out of there.
Logan wrapped his arm around your shoulder and guided you out of the bar.
"That's my girl."
author's note: thank you for reading! just a short lil oneshot for spooky season
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diejager · 1 year ago
Note
👉👈 imagine reader as a cow living in a nice farmer but because they doesn’t produce any milk than other cow, the owner was worry so they brought lot of Bulls (task 141, kortac) to chose as mate but all of them wanted the cow.
Credit to @frogchiro and @nymphany for this!
Pasture Cw: hybrid, mention of breeding, milking (milk and cum), SLIGHT DUB-CON, SLIGHT DARKFIC, tell me if I missed any.
Price, the gentle, bear-looking farmer, had initially planned to have you milked, his high-end and pedigree from an ancestry of HoJos spanning many generations that he bought for a high price, soft and plump in just the right areas. He heard from Kate that she and her wife had bought a couple of HoJos, making quite the profit on their milk, fatty and thick, but silky on the tongue. He wanted to have such luxury in his arsenal, a cute, little heifer that he’d milk for the sake of tasting and drinking it to fill his stomach with warmth until he decided to sell a few bottles.
He wasn’t in any need for money, he had enough to last the rest of his life without lifting a finger, but he liked keeping busy, work and routine beaten into his body from the military. He already had a business with the amount of bulls he bought, broad and sturdy, powerful hybrids that he could milk for their potent semen and labour. Most were obedient despite a bull’s temperament, listening to his orders like his subordinates would, following them to a T without a complain. But there was always that one who acted out, either from sheer cheekiness or mischief, he would reprimand them, punish them if it went too far.
He thought he’d experiment with you, his new little obsession he would coddle and pamper with a house of your own and an open stall. You were so well behaved that he could leave the house open to let you graze and sunbathe under the warm sun when you weren’t busy with him training you with various aspect of your new life as his prized possession. You were everything he could’ve ever wanted, obedient, gentle, soft-spoken and eager to please him, letting him suckle on your swollen and heavy tits, your ears flickering back and forth and tail wrapped around his thigh.
His only issue was that you had problems producing milk. You would produce trickles of it some days and a gush of milk the other, it was a disorderly affair that he sought to fix if he wanted to create a stable trade with you alone. When he brought the issue up with Kate, she told him that cows usually produced more milk after birthing, breasts heavy with milk and aching to be milked of it’s produce, thick and rich tasting to raise a little calf that he would soon sell than let them take your attention away.
“Introduce her to the bulls, they might help,” were the mind blowing words that Kate’s wife gave him, the cementing proposition that had him make his mind on the next step.
He introduced you to his bulls, bringing them outside of their stalls and letting them roam the fenced pasture beside yours, watching you lay under the sun and ears flick away a buzzing bug. They’ve seen other hybrids before, women especially, but have never shown any interest in of them. He feared he’d have to introduce you to another farmer’s hybrid (Price wanted to take thing into his own hands, but he didn’t know how you’d take it to his advances) if you didn’t catch their attention, bringing in a stranger to breed you.
Fortunately, they were quick to scent you out, seemingly riled up and pumping out more seed since he bought you, restlessly wandering in circles in their stalls to sate the need to get to you as fast as they could. Their eyes gleaming with arousal and nostrils flared to sniff you out, stalking to the edge of their pen, the metal unflinching to their harsh grip on the fence. They looked starved - possessed - with how eager they were to cross the barrier, hollering at you and trying to coax you towards their side of Price’s land.
Soap and König looked the most out of it, slumped over with deluded perversion of need and hunger, arms reaching for your seated figure, staring at the group of bulls with wide eyes. Nikto wasn’t any better, both he, Krueger and Ghost glaring down at you with vicious and burning eyes, lost in their minds of dark desires and corrupted dreams. Gaz and Horangi were softer, more hesitant to spook you, but they were as restless as the rest of their housemates. You were none the wiser, gazing at them with your pretty, doe eyes, meeting their eyes with innocent and a cute smile, always ready to please others.
Perhaps he should’ve acquainted you all before.
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny
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archangeldyke-all · 1 month ago
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do you think that sevika and her wife ever flirt a little with the younger dykes at the bar just for funsies.. like they're just so fun to fluster and it's not like we'll be taking them home. but maybe we'll buy them a few drinks and give them a story to tell their friends
FUCK YEAH I DO
men and minors dni
since the beginning of your relationship, you and sevika have joked that ran's your alternative. if one of you ever dies, you've got ran on the backburner to step in. ran always laughs when this comes up. "i'd be fuckin' crazy to marry one of you."
they're attractive, respectful, funny, communicative, and best of all: after a drink or two they're incredibly easy to fluster. one of you and sevika's favorite games is to count how many times you can make ran blush in a night.
it's fun to fluster them. it's fun to pull your wife in for a kiss-- a little sloppier than polite-- and pull away to catch ran quickly tearing their eyes away. sevika claims ran's her baby butch-- that she's taken them under her wing. she calls ran 'sport' and 'champ' and other butchy nicnkames, and you watch in delight as ran turns bright red and starts flipping the pair of you off.
and, on one or two occasions, you've invited ran to bed with the two of you.
each time instead of a threesome, it ended up being a friendly competition between you and sevika to see who could make ran cum more.
it was a great time for all three of you, but it made it pretty clear to you and your wife that you're both too possessive to share each other with someone else.
but making a third party flustered together? yeah... that seems to really get the two of you going.
so, from time to time, the pair of you'll get dressed up and you'll go to one of the dyke nights at your local gay bar. you'll dance and drink for a while, kissing occasionally in your little corner, just enjoying the time together.
and then... maybe there'll be a lonely dyke at the bar. or they're standing awkwardly in a corner, young and unsure of themselves. or she's being loudly talked over in a group conversation.
sevika will pout a little watching whoever it is, and you'll giggle as you tug her behind you to go make friends.
"so, gert, what's a beautiful young lady like yourself doing here alone?" you ask.
the girl sputters on the drink sevika just bought her. beside you, sevika chuckles a little.
"uh-- i--"
"ignore her, she's such a flirt." sevika cuts in, chastising you. you roll your eyes and lean back against her chest. "what do you do for work, gert?"
"i-i'm a dj. and a barback. and a barista, sometimes."
"a multi-talented woman. impressive." your wife purrs. gert gulps. you grin.
"y'know, we know a few bar owners who are always looking for new talent to showcase. you ever heard of the last drop? gay owned, they treat their workers really kindly--" you trail off as sevika passes a post it note with silco's information scrawled onto it.
"that's the owner. call him tomorrow at ten and tell him sevika recommended you. that is, if you want another gig..." she says.
gert blinks down at the post-it in shock. "the last drop's huge." she whispers.
"don't let silco know you've heard of 'em, it'll only inflate his ego." you say with a giggle. sevika snorts and kisses your cheek. gert's eyes dart between the two of you.
"is... is there... a catch?" she asks.
you and your wife burst into laughter. "oh, janna, no!" you laugh. "no, honey, we were just gonna buy you a drink a flirt a little-- the dj hookup is really just a lucky coincidence."
"oh. so i don't have to go home with the two of you to thank you?" she asks, sounding a little disappointed.
sevika cackles before speaking. "i'm afraid not, doll. don't sweat it, though, you're adorable. you'll find someone to take you home in no time."
gert gives you both a genuine hug before you decide to call it a night, trailing out into the night with your wife wrapped around you, both of you drunk and giggling as you walk home.
"she was so fucking cute." sevika laughs.
"fuck, she was. she wanted you real bad." you say.
"she wanted both of us, baby. can't blame her though."
you burst into laughter, before pulling sevika in for a nasty, sloppy kiss. "i really can't." you agree.
(two months later, gert's djing at the last drop when mylo, her new boyfriend, introduces her to his aunts. gert almost passes out as she tries to find a way to explain to mylo how, exactly, the three of you have met before.)
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette
@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp
@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner
@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke
@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @greenhazes @dvrkhcld
@sweetybuzz25 @sluttysierraaa
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deansapplepie · 27 days ago
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daryl vanilla sex 🫣
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Sex Deck
Summary: You’re having a dinner with one of your closest friends, and you just bought a deck of cards from Princess which is to play a friendly game. You just didn’t know the deck wasn’t friendly at all.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female! Reader
Warnings: NSFW, sex, talks about sex, a sex deck, smut, virgin reader, virginity loss, age gap (but reader is probably around her late 20s/ early 30s), p in v, fingering, oral (female receiving), creampie, unprotected sex (you know better than this kids), bad written smut, etc. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+.
Word Count: 5,4 k
A/N: this was a request for Vanilla sex with Daryl and as I had never written anything virgin reader related, I thought it was a good time to try it. This is not proofread, I have been writing it for months already. Started in Colombia and finished writing in Brazil. My summary sucks. I hope this goes with the expectations of the person who requested and all of you can enjoy it.
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You had invited Daryl to your house that night, you’d make burgers and you’d drink beer. You had found a card game in a store in the Commonwealth, you were told to play with friends at parties. So you thought, why not? When the outbreak happened you were very young and didn’t have the opportunity to party like other people.
You stayed for some years with a group, but your life really changed when you found Alexandria. You were alone, you had just lost your family and most people thought you were crazy when you talked about a weird herd of Walkers that seemed to be intelligent, until it started happening to all of them.
You made friends, between them Daryl Dixon and now that you were in the comfort of Commonwealth you weren’t changing that. When the bell of your small apartment rang, you knew it was him. When you opened the door and he saw you he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “A dress? Never saw ya wearing a dress” he observed, you were always wearing jeans and boots.
“Well, now that we’re relatively safe I can wear a dress and be comfortable at home. You should try.” You said.
“Wearing a dress? Nah, thank you. It’s not ma style.” He joked while entering the apartment.
“Being comfortable asshole…” you answered closing the door behind you and heading back ti the kitchen where you were finishing the preparatives for the burgers.
“I thought ya were joking about the burgers.” He observed leaning on the counter.
“I’d never joke about it, I’m really trying to do my best with what we have. It will be nice of it tastes like in the old days.” You finished chopping some vegetables while the burgers finished grilling. “I really liked those kind of food.”
“I wasn’t one for it… to be honest didn’t have the opportunity to eat it many times.” Daryl confessed, a little embarrassed, sometimes he forgot how different his experiences could be from other people’s, especially you, you were younger than him and it bothered him in more ways than he would like to admit.
“It’s ok. Nothing wrong with that. I hope you enjoy mine, well… I hope I also enjoy it, we have more access to things here but it’s still limited.” You finished setting the burgers with vegetables and the bread. “I think it’s ready.”
You ate The hamburger contently, it was delicious even with the limited ingredients you had. Daryl devoured it, for him it was the best burger he had ever ate in his life and he was kinda old so it had to mean something
When you both finished eating you sat on your sofa, beers in hand and you took the pile of cards you had bought earlier. “Look, I got this cards with some questions and challenges for friends to play.” You said excitedly. “It’s gonna be nice, I didn’t have the opportunity to play it before the world ended.”
“Oh yeah? I never hear about it, not popular around my time I guess.” He observed.
You took the cards from your bag, you hadn’t really looked at them before and they looked beautiful, a little aged but the red hearts on the back of the cards were really pretty.
“How’s that played?” He asked observing the cards, he had a weird feeling about it.
“I don’t know, there was no instructions and I never played it. Let’s just take a card at a time, we read it and we both answer, maybe the challenge we tell the other to do?” You had no idea what to do, your time to be a “kid” and mess around had stayed on the past and you couldn’t live it.
“Okay.” He agreed, you put the cards between you too.
“Since, I’m a nice person, you can take the first one.” You said before taking a sip from your beer, damn was this expired or was it just bad?
He didn’t believe he was really playing a silly game with you. If it was some years ago, he would have rolled his eyes at you, said some shit and telling you to forget it. But he couldn’t it was you, the one that caught his eyes immediately when he returned to Alexandria during the period he was away and had that gentle smile for him. The one that brought a smile to the corner of his mouth while playing with little Judith. The one that prepared delicious different food and shared with him. The one that started to visit him by the river to take supplies, kind words and silly toys for his dog.
“Nice person…” he snorted, he knew you were afraid of what could be the first card and let him do the job. He extended his hand and took the first card. He furrowed his browns when he read the question.
“What’s it?” You asked curiously.
He wasn’t really sure how this kind of question was in a deck of a game for friends, but times were changing so he decided to give it the benefit of the doubt. “Ugh… how was yer first time?”
As soon as the question left his lips he instantly blushed and you almost choked on your beer. “What?”
“That’s the question.” He passed you the card so you could read. “Well, maybe this is something friends should talk openly… I dunno.”
“Er… maybe… you should start then. You took the card.” You threw the bomb right back at him.
He cleared his throat, it was difficult to talk about the theme even with Carol that was his old friend, talking it with you felt like sin. “It was weird, I was young the girl was older than me… I dunno.” He felt just like a teenage boy at that moment, when he was far from being one. “Yer turn.”
“Hmm…” what could you possibly say, he had had a bad experience but it was better than… “I… I can’t answer that.”
“Come on, I answered it.” He told you nudging your leg with his.
“I… it’s not that I don’t want to answer it. I really can’t. I never did it.” You finally answered the question, now the terrible beer looking very interesting.
He cleared his throat. He was half shoked and half embarassed. It was impressive a lady your age that had never experienced the delights of life, but he also could feel how it was embarassing for you having to tell that to a man. “Ok, let’s take another card.”
He reached for the deck and completely ignored it was your time. His eyes popped when he saw the next card, it was a challenge. “Why?” He asked instead.
‘The next question can’t be why’, you thought. That was weird. “That can’t be the next question Daryl. You’re kidding me.”
“I’m not, it’s the next question.” He lied and it was clear it was a lie, but you answered, it was him after all.
“I was young when the world ended, not very popular before. So yeah. That’s why.” You answered.
As soon as you finished answering you reached to take a card, but he was faster than you and took another one.
“In case you don’t know we should take turns to take the cards.” You complained.
“Ya never explained the rules sweetheart, in fact ya didn’t even know them. Next question…” He looked at the next card and… what the fuck in the fuckering fucks was this deck? Because for sure it wasn’t a deck for friends to enjoy. “How would be your ideal first time?”
What the hell was this questions? He couldn’t be reading the cards. He was messing with you for sure. “In a bed!?” You answered the obvious. “It can’t be the real question, you’re messing up with me. Give those cards, I wanna read them.”
“I ain’t giving you shit.” He answered and you could just think he was being a prick.
You tried to reach it, leaning your self in his direction, extending your arms and hands. It was a lost cause, he was bigger than you taller than you, he extended his arm in the opposite direction. You were practically on his lap trying to reach the pieces of paper in his hands when you lost your balance and fell sitting right into him.
“Who sold this deck of cards to ya?” He asked, now holding you in place.
“Why?” You could have answered, but now you were a little angry at him for not letting you read the cards.
“Who sold ya this?” He asked again, firmly.
“Princess, she told me it was a friends game and we would have fun.” You explained. Damn, he couldn’t beat her ass…
“Ya didn’t even took a look at this, did ya?
“No, I was in a hurry and I just took it. I was happy we would have something different to do.” You answered.
“Hmm…” he hummed, his fingers delicately tracing forms on your arm and waist. “Read them.” He gave you the 2 last cards he had took from the deck.
‘Challenge: Kiss your partner’s ear.’
‘Question: Would you do a threeway?’
You almost choked when you read the cards. What were these? You took the rest of the deck and couldn’t believe on all the things you were reading. Princess had sold you a Sex Deck or something. “I… I didn’t know.”
“I know. Now, my questions were better, weren’t they?”
“They weren’t more innocent.” You observed.
“Hm…” he didn’t released the hold on you, you didn’t move to leave. “But how would you like it be?”
‘With you’, you thought. You didn’t have the courage to voice it so openly. “In a comfortable place probably, so in my bed. With a person I trust, older probably…”
Older… did you have anyone in mind? Who did you know that was older than you and you trust? He started to make a list of people on his mind.
“Do ya have anyone in mind?” Very subtle Daryl. Very subtle.
“I…” You took a quick glance at him. Why did he keep doing this questions? And why did you keep answering them? “Older, tall, broad shoulders, a provider and protector, probably someone that can hunt…” Fuck you were describing him, was it too obvious? Damn everything. You looked at him. “Medium length wavy brown hair, blue eyes, serious, sometimes let out a cute smile…”
Was it possible that his heart stopped? Because he felt like it. Were you really describing him? Or maybe there was someone with those same characteristics that you liked? “Do I know that guy?”
“I’d say yes…”blush. Blush. Blush. Avert his eyes. That was it, you could lose everything. Which means him, but you had put yourself in this situation even if by mistake. “I’m talking about you.”
Silence.
Silence in the room. But not on both of your heads that were now pure chaos and inner screaming. “D’ya mean that?”
“Only if it’s not ruining things between us.” You were already regretting all of that.
“Nothing could ever ruin things between us.” Daryl said, if he thought his heart had stopped beating before, it was working on full force right now. Specially with you still so close and sitting on his lap. “Can I kiss ya?”
“Yeah…” You whispered as if you spoke any louder something would break.
Silence again. This time with expectation. He neared his face to yours and you held your breath. His lips grazed over yours, you wanted it for so long… you wanted him since you saw him entering the gates of Alexandria, Jude on his arms after rescuing her with Michonne.
The hesitation in him made you close the smallest of the gaps there were between you and pressed your lips against his. That awoke him and his lips started moving with yours. He first took his time knowing your lips, gods… did he want to do that for a long time already. Not even in his wildest dreams he could imagine it would come true. You opened your mouth slightly giving him access to your mouth, you could now savor his taste like you imagined many many times before. One of his hands locked fingers with your hair near your nape, the other holding one of your thighs. You tangled your arms around his neck, one hand caressing his brown locks.
You wanted him closer, you needed him. He needed you closer, he wanted you. There was no way you could be closer than this… unless he was inside of you. At the same time Daryl was lost in his mind he came back to his senses and slowly broke your kiss. “We shouldn’t do that. Ya drank.”
“I didn’t even drink half of the bottle, Daryl. This beer is horrible. I’ve wanted you for nearly 6 years, I don’t think I’m stopping any moment soon.” You looked at his face, your eyes buried deep inside of his. “If you want me, I want you.”
“I dun know if I know how to be delicate.” He said, ironically, caressing your face delicately. Damn, you’ve wanted him basically for the same amount of time he has wanted you.
“I don’t mind as long as it’s you” you answered. “I know you’re gonna try.”
“I’ve wanted ya for a long time, sweetheart.” He gave you a kiss on your cheek. And another. He descended his kisses to your jaw, he went up kissing under your ear, your earlobe… getting a mix of a squeal and a moan from you.
You were still sitting across his lap, his right hand made his way up your thighs lifting the dress you had on. He licked, kissed and bit your neck when his hand found your clothed pretty much wet pussy. “Ya’re so wet, sweetheart…” An open mouthed kiss on your neck. “Have you ever touched yourself?” He nibbled your skin.
“I’m a virgin, not a saint Daryl.” You were as sassy as you could while the man melted you into a pool. He put your panties aside, his fingers finally meeting your heat.
“And what do ya think about when ya do so?” He wanted to ask who you thought about. He wanted to ask if you thought about him.
“I think about…” He pressed your clit making you gasp. “…about you, touching me, fu-fucking me.”
His fingers ran through your folds while his thumb pressured your clit caressing it in circles. Moans escaping your lips as jolts of pleasure ran through your body. “Daryl… kiss me, please”
“What a cute needy thing ya’re…” He said his lips already covering yours. He teased your entrance with his index finger while still playing with your bundle of nerves. When his finger entered you, you held him strongly, it was a weird sensation his finger inside of you, but as he kept moving it inside of you, kissed you and pressed your clit, it passed and all you could think about was about the pleasure he was making you feel. Your moans were muffled by his kisses and your hips bucked against his hand. Fuck, your fingers could never do it so good like him.
He broke the kiss, but his fingers never stopped. Your walls clenched around his finger while he added a second one. You gasped, you moaned… a different sensation. “Daryl…”
“It’s ok, baby…” he whispered in a soothing way, while still working on you feeling you contracting against his fingers. “Does it feel good?”
“Yeah… does…” You didn’t even had words anymore, you just wanted to give in to the feelings.
“Yer so pretty like this, totally surrendered…” He whispered on your ear, his raspy voice sending tingles through your body, his fingers pressing all the right places over and over again. “Do ya wanna let go sweetheart? Let it go, let me see that pretty face of yours when ya cum.”
You never believed someone could cum because a person told them to. But there you were throwing your head and arching your back in pure ecstasy after hearing the words from Daryl’s lips. You felt like you were floating, your head a dizzy mess that no alcohol would be able to do something similar. Your body trembled while your walls contracted against his fingers. Your hands in fists on his shirt, while you waited that euphoric wave to subdue.
“Daryl…” You hid your face on his neck, your nose caressing his skin and your breath sending chills all over him.
“Ya good sweetheart?” He asked, his free hand now roaming your back.
“Yeah, super good…” You answered.
“Do ya want to continue?” Gosh? He really wanted to keep going, but it was you and he had to be a gentleman even if he thought he was the farthest thing from it.
“This isn’t even a question Daryl, the answer is yes. Always going to be yes.” Your hands went to both sides of his face and you pressed your lips against his one more time, needier, hungrier, eagerly… You could get used to it, kissing him, you’d have to. He was now prohibited on not kissing you, you needed his kisses like a fish needed water.
He reciprocated, of course he reciprocated, if he was living the dream he was going to leave it properly. The hand that touched you just a few minutes before went under your legs and got up with you on his arms and walked in your bedroom's direction. You had said you wanted a bed, hadn’t you?
Your feet landed softly on the floor, but you didn’t break the kiss, your arms tangled around his neck trying to bring him closer into you. His hands traveled down your body finding their rest on your butt, he had looked at them before, but touching… he tugged at the hem of your dress bringing it up your middle, your breasts just to painfully break the kiss and take it off by your head.
“Yer too damn beautiful sweetheart…” He said taking you in.
“You’re making me shy, Daryl” You said your fingers battling with the buttons of his shirt while your eyes were fixed on his face, the way he looked at you, he hasn’t done it before.
“Ya shy? The one who bought the sex cards…” he teased you, that same look on his face but a smirk on his lips.
“You know I was fooled into buying it.” You answered. “Wouldn’t buy if knew it.”
“And we probably wouldn’t be here now.”
“Probably not.” You took his shirt off revealing his torso, he was handsome. All those scars had a story which made him who he was. His manly body, his small fluffy stomach… you wanted to lick him.
He captured your lips with his one more time and guided you to the bed getting you sat and kneeling between your legs. His hands went up your back and opened your bra with an easiness that you wondered if you should be concerned, he slid it off and soon his hands were engulfing them.
Your hands touched his abdomen with such delicacy that he thought he was in heaven, your fingers ran up and down and to the sides. Casually brushing on the hem of his pants. You undid his belt while sweet moans escaped into his mouth. You unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and your hands were going incredibly south.
“Take it easy, baby. Today’s ‘bout ya.” His hands that played with your nipples went lower touching your curves and ending on each side of your panties. “And I’m still taking care of ya.”
“Is it prohibited to touch you, or something?” You asked, your hands tentatively half the way to hover his aching cock still protected by his boxers.
“Absolutely not, just… don’t feel obligated to, I wanna this be good for ya, right?” He prohibiting you from touching him? he’d let you do whatever you wanted to him, he’d be completely at your mercy, that is if that night wasn’t the very night he was introducing you to the practice. Then he tugged lightly on each side of your panties and asked you “is it okay if I take these out?”
“Yes, it is. Daryl, I give you consent for everything, so please just do it.” You said. It was cute him being so careful and asking you all the way through, but damn you trusted this man with your life, he could do everything he wanted to you.
“Eager, are we?” He teased you one more time, before sliding your panties down your legs and take a good look at you. “We did a pretty mess here, didn’t we?”
His hands went up and down your legs stopping on your thighs, he lowered his face to kiss your inner thighs, starting right where your knees started and going real close to your core that was aching for him. Just to go back and start the same process with the other side. The sounds that came out of your mouth were sweet and gave him the fuel he needed to keep going.
His facial hair was tickling you and adding to the pleasurable sensations going through your body, at the same time you sighed with bliss you giggled with it. That was till the moment his lips made contact with your pussy, at first a small kiss on your clit, then an open mouth kiss to your center. You gasped, you trembled, you bucked against him.
Instinctively your hand went to rest on his head, your fingers finding his brown locks. He didn’t complained, he just grunted while he made out with your pussy. “Oh, Daryl…” you had no words to say, only moans and his name.
He took one of your legs and put it on his shoulder. “Scoot over, sweetheart.” As he commanded you did, moving yourself up in the bed while his face was buried between your thighs. “Lay down and just enjoy, darling”.
You did as he said, at this moment you’d do anything he asked. If he told you to jump from a bridge, you’d jump from the damn bridge. You mewled as you felt his tongue all over you.
He moved his lips to suck at your clit making your hips buck into his face, with one hand holding on your thigh, he took the other right at your heat again. This time when his finger entered your warm sweet cave it didn’t feel foreign anymore, it felt familiar as if it belonged there. Your fingers massaged his scalp while you whimpered at his stimulation. As his fingers curved inside of you and hit that spot, you contracted against him, a signal you were close.
He got more engaged on his ministrations, he wanted you to reach your peek one more time. He wanted your juices all over his face. Gods! He wanted you well prepared for when he finally put his dick where it belonged, inside of you. When you came, you came harder than the first time, a mess of moans of his name and little cries of pleasure. Of course you weren’t aware of it, you were too lost in the bliss.
He helped you through your high, till it passed. He got his head up from between your folds, his face glistening with your cum. He squeezed your thighs seeing you didn’t seem to be back yo this world. “Ya there sweetheart?”
His voice brought you back to reality. “I’m here.”, you finally answered he crawled the bed to look in your face, his knew and thigh between your legs.
“Ya’re doing so well, baby.”, he said right before kissing you slowly and sweet, the taste of you inside his mouth mixing with the flavor of your mouths. Your hands traveling from his head, to his neck and shoulders, sliding down his arms and finding it’s way down his chest. Your hand finally palming him over the fabric of his boxers. He hissed, the feeling too much for him to take. Your pretty little hands weren’t even touching his skin and he felt his control slipping through his fingers. Damn he was feeling like a teenager, he’d cum right there if he didn’t took control over again.
You slid your hand inside bringing him outside, your hand slowly going up and down on his skin. He tried to hold on, keep composed, you were exploring and he was loving every minute of it, he had to let you before taking control again. Your hand moved from the base to the tip of his dick, delicate and precise. “Darling, I can’t let you keep with it… I’ll not be able to hold it if you continue.”
While you did it you analyzed it, it was big, tick and veiny. It was beautiful and glorious, you wondered how would it be to have it inside of you.. you even wondered how it would be to do other things with it, like putting it in your mouth. “Sorry, just wanted to feel it…” you managed to say, almost pouting.
“Sweetheart, don’t be sorry. Do you have any idea for how long I wanted you? I’m… so excited that I’m losing control.” He confessed, it was cute, you let go of it and took your hands back to his face and neck.
“It’s ok, I share the same feeling. That’s why I couldn’t help myself.” You confessed looking into his eyes, raising your head to peck on his lips. “You can have me Daryl…”
“If ya ever want to stop, just let me know, al’ight?” He said, eyes on yours, noses brushing.
“It’s ok.” You answered capturing his lips in yours right after and closing your eyes.
You kissed slowly, tenderly and intensely. Both of you shifting your bodies into more comfortable positions while doing so. He stopped the kiss, giving your lips some pecks before speaking. “It’s not gonna be like my fingers, are ya ready?”
“Yes, please.” You looked at his blue eyes and felt he was more worried than you. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he knew that was the only way of doing it, the only way for your first time. At least he had tried preparing you, he didn’t know of it was going to work, he never had a woman that hadn’t experienced it before. “It’s gonna be ok, Daryl…”
“Ok, love…” the words rolled from his lips easily before he could notice them.
He kissed you again, passionately, his hands traveling down your body. He took a handful of your thighs pressing your body more against his, you could feel his hardness pretty much alive rubbing against your sensitive folds. He stopped the kissing again, looking at your eyes and you nodded as if you said ‘yes, do it. Let’s start.’.
He pumped his cock, spreading your moisture on it before positioning it at your entrance. He pressed it against you, slowly trying to make his way in, to break the barriers and do what both of you wanted. He pushed himself inside little by little, the stretch felt like too much to start with it, but you held yourself like a big girl and when he finally broke that barrier the stretch was nothing compared to the burning sensation you felt down there, tears automatically coming to your eyes. “Definitely not your fingers…”, you wanted it to be a joke, but sounded more like a complaint.
“Wanna stop baby?” He asked hands caressing your face and hair. You shook your head unable to answer. He kissed the tears from your face, one of his hands traveling down to your clit, rubbing and pressing it in hopes the pain you felt would go away. “Whenever you’re ready to continue sweetheart.” He said kissing your neck.
As he pressed and rubbed your clit the pain started to subdue and you started to feel mote pf him and the jolts of pleasure being sent throughout your body. The way your walls contracted around him a signal your body was now accepting him. “I’m ready…” you said when he could continue and he continued to move until he bottomed out, not very difficult with all the slickness inside of you.
When he finished going all the way in, you let out a moan while he grunted. He started moving slowly, not going out too much. You braced yourself on him, your arms going around him and your hands soothingly slipping on his skin. He increased the speed in small portions, never going too fast, but now going almost the way out just to go back again.
You felt in a very sensual dance with him, the way his body moved against yours and the way your body responded to his as if you were in sink. Sighs and moans left your lips, making a symphony he so much enjoyed. “Sweetheart, ya feel so good… so tight. Ya’re doing so well.”
He kept on caressing your head, his fingers moving on your hair, his eyes never leaving yours recording in his memory every reaction he saw in you.
“Oh , Daryl… please…” Even in a heated moment like this, he thought you were so cute.
“Please what, baby? What do ya want?” He nuzzled your neck, his voice hoarser from lust.
“More, I want more… please…” You pleaded by his ear, so driven by him that you just wanted more of whatever he could offer you.
“As ya wish sweetheart” He didn’t increase his speed, but increased his precision looking for that spongy place inside of you that would make you see starts. When he hit it for the first time yesterday you moaned/screamed at the feeling huge if compared to his fingers doing the exact same thing.
After it he continued trying hit it over and y again, his fingers drawing circles on your bundle of nerves. You a complete mess, surrendered to him, closer and closer to your sweet destination as your walls spasmed around him. “Are ya close, love? It’s ok, ya can cum… I’ll go right after ya.”
With a few more trusts of him, you came messy and hard, your vision getting white as your body convulsed held by him. He kept trusting inside you and as your walls held him so tightly, he got to same place as you. Ridding both your highs for as long as he could.
His body collapsed on top of you, the crushing sensation of his body over you making you feel safe and protected. Both your breaths trying to regulate your fingers massaging his scalp and running on his hair while his mouth couldn’t help but press little soft kisses on the skin on your shoulder. When both of you had calmed down, he propped himself to look at you. “Are you ok? How do ya feel?”
“I’m perfectly fine.” You said looking at his face. “It was so good. Thank you…”
“Sweetheart, don’t have to thank me for that.” Gods, he was the one that need to be thankful. “I guess it’s time we take care of ya.”
He pulled out of you, immediately regretting and missing your warm walls. He went through your things looking for a towel he could use and found a small one. He returned to find you sprawled on bed with both of your cums and a little bit of blood, leaking from you. “Damn… I could get used to this view.” He didn’t think before speaking.
“You can get used to this.” You said, he could see it everyday if he wanted to.
He used the towel to clean you and afterwards the bed. When he finished taking care of you, he laid by your side, covering your bodies under a comfy blanket. You laid your head on his chest while he held you in his arms and you could listen to his heartbeat.
“I was serious when I said you could get used to this. You could have this everyday if it depends on me.”
His heart skipped a beat or two listening to your words. If you wanted him, he would have you like this everyday. Instead of letting his past insecurities overcome him, he decided now was the perfect time to use that sassy remark you threw at him earlier. “Will ya show me how you’re not a saint in the next times?”
Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series) Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325 @hayley1998 @vaniniweenie @cupidelocke @avabh12 @whore4romance @dixondystopia @dixons-sunshine @bigbaldheadname @negansbestie @gabriella-aesthetic @fluffy-dixon @lunajay33
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leclsrc · 1 year ago
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wanna be nearer ✴︎ mv1
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genre: 18+, fuck buddies ahhhaha, smut, porn w/o plot basically...
word count: 3.6k  
It seems every time you tell yourself to stop, Max comes back into your life and all sense of resolve crumbles. title from this
auds here… hiii :) req'd by SO MANY PEOPLE i can't even start compiling all the asks hahah but if u asked for this here it is! writing's been tuff for me lately but this was the one thing i could continue daily (weird) also there is a case to be made re: max's hottest pictures being like 1 pixel in resolution... hope u all like it!!!
nsfw warnings under the cut!
18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, some vague sexting/a sex tape being watched, praise/dirty talk central, size kink, unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving), max being a meanie
It’s busy today. You haven’t seen him all day. 
To be fair, you weren’t necessarily looking—not at first, anyways. How many days had it been since the last time, now? The one in your hotel room? Almost two weeks, you think. The real answer’s blurry in your head, especially when you count the close calls, but this should be a record for you two at this point. Neither of you acknowledge that the only reason you’ve been so good at staying away from each other is because when you’re not roped into the same media junket, you avoid each other at all costs.
The media pen is full; everybody’s shoulder-to-shoulder because a few other networks bought their way into the space for the Singapore race. Right when your mind settles back into the focus of work, though—
“Here,” he says, his voice rough and tickling your ear. You nearly stumble forward, shocked at how his voice almost vibrates through you, a low trill that ripples top to bottom.
His hand settles at the small of your back, like his verbal confirmation wasn’t enough on its own; it’s big and his thumb rubs softly at the smooth strip of skin in-between your low skirt and your top. “Passing through.”
“Sure,” you say, dry. “Sorry.” You clear your throat and cant backwards into his touch—briefly, before you step forward and allow him to pass fully. Across you, Lissie looks up from her phone and you sense her trying to gauge why you’re so close to Max.
You blink and wait for him to disappear, wondering what you’ll tell her—how, more like. How the conversation even opens. How you’d phrase the truth, which in itself is a horribly grey area. Well, Lis, if you must know, Max and I have casual sex. A lot. It’s actually not very casual. We stopped now, but—yes, Max. That Max, yes. 
“What about Max?”
Your eyes snap upward and then to your left, where you can see Max’s figure disappearing into a crowd of engineers. They return to Lissie and you feign confusion to mask panic. “What?”
“You were spacing out and then suddenly said his name.” She presses the tip of her pen onto her chin, humming. She doesn’t look at you and you thank God for it—eye contact would’ve rattled the truth out of you in seconds.
“I…” You shake your head. “I was irritated with—I’ve been irritated with him all morning. It’s. Yeah.”
“Oh,” she says, nodding, looking away for a second but not pausing. “Oh, okay. D’you wanna go over this edit again?”
The stale air of his hotel room, alleviated only by the vaguely fragrant linen spray they use when he’s out, is what greets Max when he arrives in the afternoon.The first thing he does—the only task he’d even thought of en route here—after the door clicks shut is pull up his Messages app and type.
Just got to hotel. He tosses his phone onto the bed while he waits, tugs his cap off and rakes reckless fingers through his hair. His new stylist’s got him onto jeans that don’t “look painted on” (you once said, verbatim), but he’d rather die than lounge in denim, so he swaps them out for just his Calvins.
His mind’s lethargic, but even his version of lethargic is high-drive for others—his brain has the silly tendency to work in absolute overdrive. He itches for a drink and orders a Scotch on the telephone. He checks his phone, which is lying facedown still, and as soon as he picks it up it chimes with your reply.
OK, nice. Did u need something?
No, just wanted to let you know. He hits send, then adds another. You’re off @ 8?
Ended early, I’m in the car. He’s in the middle of drafting a response when you send a follow-up.
I thought we agreed no contact unless business
He scoffs out a dry laugh. Despite himself, he reads the text in your voice, his brain completing the image of the bossy tone with crossed arms and a wickedly arched brow. In response he types: Can’t even update a friend nowadays? I am very tired you know.
Rules are rules, he reads. Then, Get some rest.
Yeah. Got a drink.
I said rest, not drink. Even then he can hear the exasperation in your voice.
How was work? I hurt a muscle doing training. That’s why I’m at the hotel early.
Feel better soon, you send. Had some press stuff today. Boring shit
Yeah? I missed you today.
Really?
A lot. He hums and leans backward, lets his head settle into the pillow, the smell of the linen spray consuming his nostrils. He waits for his phone to buzz, vibrate softly on the hard surface of his chest. It does, after a few minutes, after he’s let his eyes shut and let himself rest them for a bit, after the room service comes knocking and gives him the Scotch he’d requested while ago.
He’s back sitting on his bed when it vibrates. He picks it up and reads: How much?
You’re awfully easy to rile up. He smiles around the rim of his glass—he knows exactly where this is heading. 
So much I think I’ll watch some videos of us.
The only caveat of casual sex as two people who essentially dislike each other is the fact that it’s all under wraps—which means if you two try to sneak off together, or are even caught in the same vicinity, people raise suspicions. And that means there are weeks where you barely get to fuck.
And that means you both grow antsy for it. He makes fun of you for being needy, when you’re tipsy and palming at the denim of his jeans or when you bend over when you know he’s looking. But the truth is he grows needy for it, too, craves you like you’re all that matters—he gets extra handsy, drops another innuendo when he knows you’re listening. There is a case to be made that he’s worse, in fact, because fans sometimes skirt around his words and wonder why he sounds so flirty when you’re the reporter in the room.
It was difficult but eventually he found a minor workaround: sometimes he films the two of you. There’s none of those propping his phone up kind of stuff, he just fishes for it in the middle of fucking you so he can store it for himself. It’s locked on his phone and he only has a few (the few has grown in number lately), but God it gives him release when he needs it and you’re not there.
I’ll call you when I’m at the lobby, comes the response. It’s always futile, the attempts to stay away from each other.
He pulls up the folder and lets his eyes skate over the thumbnails, squeezes himself through his boxers. Fuck. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to watch—the ones of you sucking him off, the ones of his fingers stretching you out. He recalls the whine in your voice in each of them, the pleads that escaped you for him to fuck you harder.
So Max, for the life of him, can’t even count how many times these videos have made him cum. But there’s one he hasn’t seen yet—the one he took the night before you two parted. You’d become extra needy on this night, preceding the season, he supposes, the separation. You already were anticipating the deprivation, starved for him more than usual. He’d have kissed you pretty, given you one orgasm after another and still you’d want more. And on this night it was you who asked him to film, you who wanted all of them on tape, so you’d both have something to tide you over until he got to fuck you again.
He pulls his cock out and strokes over it. And with his other hand, he presses his thumb on that video.
In it he’s fucking you in the dark, keeping the phone’s flashlight on your pussy as he sinks his cock into you. When he pulls back out the light reflects on the slick coating his dick, makes it glisten. It looks so wet, sounds so wet, with each thrust into you. He remembers just how it feels; he imagines that he’s back in your bed, fucking you again; that his fist is your pussy, and the spit lubricating it is the wetness that’s drooling out of you on camera.
He can see how tight you are—the way your pussy grips the shaft each time he pulls his cock out, greedy for him. Just like you.
The two of you were supposed to be quiet, too. You were at a hotel, your room beside another driver’s; you were supposed to be careful not to stir anyone. But your moans are louder than he remembers; so is the way you say, breathily, between gasps, Right there, Maxie, m’so close. Max inhales through his teeth, his cock throbbing at that—that Maxie, the cute little whimper out your mouth.
He strokes himself faster, watches the way your fingers slip into frame to rub at your clit, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. He can see, hear—feel how wet you are, the sound of your cunt growing wetter with every thrust. He hears his own voice again, mutter out So good for me, yeah? And your babbled affirmation in response.
You cum hard, your slick getting everything wet and shiny and Max watches himself cum next. His dick’s already spurting when he pulls out and lets himself release on your lower stomach, some of it shooting onto your tits. He blinks, anchors himself back, quickens his wrist and digs his heels into the bed to keep himself from coming. Just a second longer. He knows what comes next and he needs to see it.
Like clockwork, he watches two of your fingers swipe through his cum, bringing them up to your lips. You blink up at the camera and smile. Quit it, your lips mouth, pink and cum-slick. Put it down, Maxie… fill me up again. He releases in weak spurts over his fist, a damp, flushed grunt escaping him as he does. He feels like the air’s been knocked out of him.
His phone rings and he presses it to his ear. “Hey, angel. Come on up.”
One week later
“Vodka,” you say to the bellboy when you get to the elevator. “To my hotel room. Very cold. Please. And thank you.”
The guy scurries off to fetch it for you, and five minutes and one elevator ride later, you're wrestling himself into your room, flexing your sore foot. Japan does hotel rooms well. The leather of your Manolo digs into your foot the way it does after you’ve walked the entire day and you can feel a blister forming on the back of your right heel but it doesn’t really matter, you guess, if you’re already home. Hotel-home, anyway.
You expect to find solace lounging on your bed, waiting out the hours to your morning briefing for the race and throw back a glass or two of vodka. 
Instead, you find Max on your couch. He’s sipping ice-cold vodka—your ice-cold vodka.
“Hey, pretty,” he says. “Good vodka. I got staff to wire my FIFA on the TV.”
You just stare. “My TV. What,” you say, your eyes spotting the bottle of frosty vodka by his glass, “are you doing here?”
“I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to,” he explains simply. “Do you want food or something?”
“Food? I—nevermind,” you shrug. You’re frozen by the door, only just warmed now from the cold air that bit at your bare legs. “Max, how long have you been here?”
“Since Will Buxton started the post-FP debrief,” he huffs. He fiddles with the remote in his grip and extends it to the TV, where FIFA comes to life. “Aw, come on, angel. I know, I know. No sex and all that. I just like your company, you know?”
“Please. Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, toeing off your shoes and wiping your hands on the fabric of your skirt. He says one thing but you expect another—it’s only natural, given all the other times one of you had failed to keep a similar promise. But still you walk yourself beside him, fix the strap of your short dress, and allow him to pour you a drink.
“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asks absently. “About how you’re always having these talks with me about… about not having sex anymore, but you never even last two days.” He raises you the glass. “What is it, relapsing?”
“Fuck you,” you mutter. “It’s only because you keep trying to get me all hot and bothered.” You recall each time: in Monaco, in Madrid, in France. “Maybe if you got off my back once in a while, we’d be back to normal.”
He shrugs. “You just don’t have strong resolve.”
“Excuse me?” You scoff, irritation scratching at your throat.
“Wanna test that out? Come play.”
Your eyes flit over to the bright screen, all exhaustion cleared from your system. An animated Kylian Mbappe kicks a football in a loop. “Fine. One round and you’re out of my room.” He throws his hands up in surrender and you make a move to sit next to him. Max puts his hands out towards you then, nodding. You mistake it for some handshake, accept them, and then he’s wrangle you onto his lap facing outward. You feel your pulse at your throat as he pulls you tight against him.
“This is cheating,” you say, your voice dry.
“You got it wrong. Teaching.”
He moves his fingers atop yours, explaining what to press, what goes where, what to do for this or that. He can smell your perfume, hear your stilted breaths, and when he peeks over your shoulder he can see where your dress falls loose, showing the lace of your bra and your tits underneath them.
If he had it his way, he’d hike your dress up and have you ride him. But he’s given you a challenge.
You play a practice round and end up scoring a few goals, fingers making quick work of the buttons. Behind you, Max watches, content, answering your questions when you ask them hurriedly—how do I do this? That? Did I just score?
You score once, then twice, then three times, and before you know it you’re scoring in quick succession. The game is fun—it’s easy. If Max was trying to give you a hard time, he failed. You grow determined, competitive within seconds (something he really should’ve anticipated), and you’re scoring goals with skill that you’d confidently say rivals Max’s.
Max. You almost—almost forget he’s there, and then you sit up straighter and you’re hit with the sensation of his dick pressing into your ass. You inhale sharply and the controller clatters to the floor.
“You okay, pretty?” His hand comes up to rest on your knee, inching closer and closer with every hitch of your breath. Your hand, now free of the controller, seizes his, stopping it right at the middle of your thigh. 
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah? You look stressed.” He doesn’t move. “You were so close, too, weren’t you?” The score stares you right in the face: 4-5. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off it.” It’s so bullshit, so extremely obvious, but he’s right in your ear and his hand is so near where you’ve missed its presence.
You’re usually competitive. You can usually hold your ground. But with this and him—
“Maybe,” you breathe, loosening your grip. He spreads his legs, spreading yours in the process, and brings his hand closer, running slender fingers over the lace material of your underwear until you’re squirming. It grows damper the more he touches, your mouth hanging open with stunted whimpers.
“You always come back to me, schatz, don’t you,” he says, whispers against your ear. You wrench a moan out. “Remember the first time? You interviewed me in Abu Dhabi… you teased me the whole day and begged to come thrice in my room. The time in Monaco you touched yourself to me when I was in the next room. The time we almost hooked up in Miami…” He groans, to himself more than you. “You’re a dirty girl.” He’s curling two fingers inside of you now, grazing against the sweet spot pulls the most delicious moans out of your innocent mouth.
“Every time… you go, that was the last time.” While your mind recaps the memories he’s busy spelling into your ear, Max’s fingers are curling inside of you against that sweet spot just right, and your moans are getting louder and louder.
“Fuck,” he huffs, watching your flushed face get more and more euphoric.
“Aw, pretty, look at that,” Max laughs. He’s looking at your thighs, watching the way they tense and shake as his fingers stroke your g spot. Each pump and curl into your twitching pussy feels better and better, and your dripping walls are starting to clench around his fingers.
“Wait, I—I can’t,” you pant, lolling your head onto his shoulder and involuntarily bucking your hips upward. 
“Yeah you can,” he orders. “It’s so easy to get you to cum, isn’t it? Or is that just for me? The driver you hate the most?” He laughs. “Get all wet for the guy you couldn’t care less about. Say you hate me and get my dick nice and wet the next day.” You’re grinding onto his three fingers now, shameless with it.
“Are you gonna cum?” He asks.
“Oh,” you whine. “Yeah, fuck—yes.”
“Tell me what you’re gonna do,” he says wickedly. You can hear him smile.
“I’m gonna—please—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, tension coming to a halt and then bursting all at once out of you. His other arm holds your hips down against him, and you spend a minute and another twitching, your skin sticky with sweat and slick.
It’s not long before you’re whirled back to face him, your hands making quick work of his jeans. It’s a skill you’ve both mastered, the art of the quickie—in closets, hotel rooms, with sweaty, open-mouthed kisses pressed along the column of your throat, moans swallowed. 
He hikes your dress up and your panties to the side, immediately bullies his cock into you—the glide is slow, but easy. You’re so fucking wet.
“Fucking big,” you gasp out. “Jesus, Jesus—fuck.” Your head drops and presses against his; he uses the opportunity to kiss you. You moan into it, feeling the stretch, your slick wetness dragging down the length of him as he thrusts up, up, further. “Been a while.”
“Feel good, though, yeah?” Your toes curl and you nod; you’re flushed all over and you need him to hurry up. You grind downward, onto him. He does, then, fucks you hard and fast, like he’s thirsted for this for way longer than he did. You’re squirming, all wet, and it tempts him to go harder. Your face is shiny with sweat, lips drawn in between your teeth.
“Slo—slow down,” you manage, babbling; he doesn’t, speeding up his thrusts until you’re moaning his name. “Max—wait—fuck, you’re so mean,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him and letting him take control. 
“You’re fine,” he grunts, pulling out almost all the way. “You take my dick so well, schatz, every fucking time. Don’t you?”
“I do,” you gasp out, and he’s slamming into you gain. You cry out loudly, sniffling from the overstimulation—you’d barely recovered from your initial orgasm and already you’re hurtling into what feels like three at the same time. 
“For someone who doesn’t like me,” he sneers, “you sure do moan like a slut, huh?”
His words get you more turned on than you’re willing to admit, but you shake your head.
“No?” He laughs, breathy from the effort. “Maybe I should film you now. Send it to your boss, let him see his stellar reporter’s getting Verstappen’s dick wet.” 
Finally, the tension building inside of you reaches a head, and your pussy starts to twitch around his dick. He notices, grunts sharply and leans forward, shuddering as he releases into you. Your moans are choked and tapering into whimpers as you release slick all over him, and you attempt to catch your breath, collapsing onto his still-clothed, now-sticky chest. You scratch at the dri-fit material and inhale him, the smell of his cologne, his sweat. You bite at his earlobe, laugh when he flinches.
“That,” you say into his skin, “was the last time.” It’s both seriously and as a joke, playing off of what he’d remarked earlier.
“Jesus, princess. I’m still inside you.” 
You giggle and drum lightly along the plane of his chest. In a few minutes he’ll pick you up to shower, but now you’re content to inhale him in. Quietly you wonder why you just can’t get enough of him—if you were in better senses, you’d have realized he was thinking the same thing about you.
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sttm99 · 1 year ago
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Bakugo understands that he spends a lot of money on you for just being his personal assistant. But he can't help it.
You honestly deserve it. You're smart, responsible, diligent. You're a hard worker with principles, and your work ethic is something he respects.
It didn't matter how many people were against him promoting you from secretary to PA so soon in your career. Your work was top notch, and you kept him organised.
Sure, you were pretty as well, a sight for sore eyes, really. But that wasn't his fault, was it? It wasn't your fault either.
It's not like you came into work every day with full glam, diamond earrings, or elaborate hairstyles.
It had pissed him off at first, when people demeaned you or underestimated your work because of your looks, especially when he knew you worked so hard so you wouldn't be considered some dumb corporate bimbo.
But now? Now he loved it. He loved when he had clients over, and they'd do a double take when he sent for you to take notes or deliver documents to his table.
He'd noticed the modesty with which you'd dressed when you first started working for him, how you tried to dim yourself with drab colours that obviously washed you out, or plain hairstyles.
Not like it stopped anybody from being able to tell how pretty you were.
But after, when you'd started garnering his attention and racking up more bonuses from your diligence, he began noticing you wearing nicer things.
Of course, you had to up your wardrobe once you were promoted to the role of Personal Assistant to one of the biggest heroes in Japan. But that wasn't it.
Bakugo loved seeing you walk in with a new shirt or new shoes or new earrings after he'd rewarded you a bonus or a pay increase. There was a sort of high he got, knowing that you took care of yourself with the money he gave you.
Oh, he spoilt you rotten.
Month end rewards became the norm for you. He just closed a hefty advertising deal? Best believe you were getting a cut out of that. He was given a bottle of champagne as a gift? You're drinking it with him in his office.
Sure, it may have seemed a bit inappropriate to some people; him locking the doors and closing the windows, and having you sit on his lap prettily whilst he poured it out into a flute for you.
Sure, it was inappropriate for him to have his hands up your skirt as you recounted the month end figures for him, but you were comfortable that way. He was, too. Oh, so comfortable with your hands inside his trousers and his teasing at the lining of your panties.
He was just taking care of his best employee.
And maybe he did spend a lot of money on you, but you had to keep up appearances. He needed you looking your best when you were next to him.
It wasn't his fault you were so beautiful that brands reached out to him to get you to model for then after seeing you appear in some pictures by his side.
It wasn't his fault that he couldn't get anyone else to come with him to the Hero Gala. Besides, you're meant to be with him during these things to take notes for him. So having you as his date was basically killing two birds with one stone.
"Your assistant's fucking sexy," Kaminari whispered into Bakugo's ear, both of them watching you go to order a drink for your boss.
Bakugo smirked to himself, his eyes raking over your body, clad in the tight fitting dress he'd bought for you to wear. He'd also bought the earrings you had on, and the shoes and the necklace. Sure, it cost him quite a lot, but he just couldn't help it when you looked so good.
"She's single, isn't she?"
Now, that had him snapping his head in Kaminari's direction. "Don't even fucking think about."
Kaminari whined, "But why? She's your assistant, not your sister or your girlfriend."
"She's my assistant," Bakugo seethed, standing up from his seat. "She's my employee, and I won't have you lowering her efficiency." He murmured as he made his way to where you were.
You smiled brightly as you turned around to see him, handing him the second glass of champagne in your hands. "You look like you'd rather be somewhere else." You laughed softly.
He grinned down at you before downing the drink quickly. "I would," he said before dropping his glass back on the bar. "Come on."
He spoilt you rotten, but he couldn't help it. You looked so beautiful in your tight dress and pretty hair and beautiful face.
Sure, being seated on the sink and having your legs spread before his lips in the bathroom at the Hero Gala may have been a tad inappropriate, but how could he stop himself?
You were quivering for him, thighs pressing down and shaking on either side of his head, and your fingers gripping harshly at his hair, pulling him even closer as you rutted your heat against his lips.
He let out a desperate groan, burying his face deeper into your cunt, eating you out shamelessly, hungrily.
"Fuuck..." He growled into you.
You'd been so shy the first time he had his way with you, refusing to touch him, grind on him, behaving so meek and cute.
Now look at you, so selfish and desperate, almost suffocating him as he feasted. He spoilt you rotten, sure, but you deserved every morsel of it.
"Katsuki..." You whined desperately, your back arching off the mirror, the hand not pulling at his hair tightly gripping the edge of the counter. "Katsuki, I'm so close... I'm so fucking close, baby-"
His hands dug into the flesh of your ass, pulling your harsher into him, your clit pressing against his nose as his tongue made a meal of you. He was always so desperate for it, digging the wet muscle so far into your pussy you saw stars.
And he was messy too, his saliva and your arousal staying your thighs, dripping from the marble counter unto the ground as he ate from you.
Anyone who came in after would probably be able to tell from the smell of the bathroom alone. The cum leaking unto the floor would only solidify it.
But the thought of someone finding out that your boss had his face buried deep in your pussy wasn't exactly what you were thinking about when you came for him, hard and rough, your hips shaking and raising off the counter as you rode out your high.
"We shouldn't be doing such during events, sir." You whispered to him as you both walked down the corridors back into the hall where the gala was being held.
He had his large palm over your ass, groping you just in the dark of the hallway, letting go just as you stepped into the crowded hall.
"Just be a good girl and wait for me to fuck you on the way home, hm?" He smirked at you, a small sheen still visible on his lips.
He never cleaned his mouth properly after eating you out during such events. It was inappropriate, sure, but he just couldn't help himself.
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dcxdpdabbles · 1 month ago
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ok but office supplier is even funnier if jason hasn't been declared legally alive again and danny starts dating him thus allowing him to both be and not be part of the wayne family
"I have a date," Danny says one random morning as he refills the office snack bar. Danny, in his own words, is one of the highest-paid employees. He has chosen to create a snack center for all Wayne employees. He has one on every three floors, filling it with fruits, chips, chocolate, pudding, and drinks.
And a cabinet with free samples of stationery supplies he thought more people should know about. Next to the supplies, he wrote the name of the product, where to buy, and even recommendations of
Everyone felt really touched by this and started bringing snacks and drinks to help him. Half the time, Danny only refilled the stationary since everyone was happy to have a community snack bar.
"A what!?" Jack from accounting gasped. Danny didn't pay him any mind; he was too busy picking between the flower and moon mini-planners.
Both were pocket-sized, but one had a workout addition, while the other had a section to track books for readers. He felt like there were more readers than gym goers, but he didn't want either to miss out if he picked one over the other.
"A date," he responded after placing both options inside the basket. He'll have to wait to introduce the amazing erasable pens he found, but he could make it up next month.
"With who?" Demanded Sara. She worked in PR and had been attempting to have him attend at least three parties with the Waynes in the past month alone.
"Peter. I met him a week ago at a street fair. One of the personal pen makers I follow would have a booth, and I was dying to see them." Danny pulls a box from his pocket, showcasing the fancy navy blue pen. "This is the George Washington Battle of Princeton edition. It has the painting of the battle wrapped around it, with careful silver-golden details on the cap to resemble the colonial era and a golden-edged nib; this is one fine fountain pen. It cost me five thousand and nine hundred dollars."
"Danny, please focus- five thousand? You spent five thousand on a pen!?"
Danny puffs out his chest, smiling broadly. "It was worth every penny!"
"That's-never mind. Are you sure Peter is a good person?" Jack pressed, "Because I know a great man. Mr. Drake-Wayne! Wouldn't you rather go on a date with him?"
"But Peter bought me easrsers that were shaped like fried chicken. They came in bucket. See." He ramages through his bag until he pulsl out a palm-szed bucket with chicken shaped earses inside. "Isn't it cool?"
"I'll admit that's pretty cool," Sara conceded but shared a quick glance with her coworkers. Danny wonders why they all look so worried. This wasn't that expensive. Peter only used ten dollars for it. "Do you like Peter?"
"I don't know. It's just a first date." He shrugs. "I don't usually have those. Not many people are willing to listen to me ramble about stationary."
"You know who would love to listen to you?" Jack throws an arm around Danny's shoulder. "Mr. Drake-Wayne!"
"Mr. Grasyon-Wayne!"
"Mis Wayne!"
"Mr. Wayne!" Everyone turns to stare at Gary, who flushes, "Bruce Wayne, not Damian!"
That caused some head nods and a few scattered comments about how the age gap was still alarmingly large, but if both were consenting adults, who were they to oppose it? Danny stared back as everyone debated whether Danny and Mr.Wayne should date.
He glances down at his heart-shaped notepads and figures they are right. It's not like he has any feelings about this date. He just agreed to get the passers.
Taking out his phone, he sends Peter a message to cancel their date. He should go out with someone because he likes them, not because they may allow him to discuss his interests.
Jason despairs somewhere on the other side of town as he reads the text for his second persona- a living citizen Peter Todd- from the guy who he saw at the street market going gaga over pens. The guy was so cute, too.
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