#but they better do it right this time if so

[chaosartisan]

You all are so pro mental illness until they forget to take their medication.

You all are so pro mental illness until they start having delusions.

You all are so pro mental illness until they develop brain fog.

You all are so pro mental illness until they start forgetting important dates.

You all are so pro mental illness until they identify neuro divergent traits that you have.

You all are so pro mental illness until they start expressing their struggles.

You all are so pro mental illness until someone can't afford to go to therapy.

You all are so pro mental illness until someone can't afford their medication.

You all are so pro mental illness until it's something that comes attached with a physical health condition or deformity.

You all are so pro mental illness until it comes to advocating for better systems.

You all are so pro mental illness until your loved one becomes mentally ill.

You all are so pro mental illness until they need your help.

You all are so pro mental illness until it comes to doing anything other than saying "I'm pro mental illness."

yall are pro mental illness until they hallucinate

yall are pro mental illness until they dissociate

yall are pro mental illness until they self-isolate

yall are pro mental illness until they're paranoid

yall are pro mental illness until they split

yall are pro mental illness until it's too Scary for your comparatively neurotypical brain to handle

[incognit0slut]

Permanent attachment

in which you’re far too comfortable to move from Spencer’s lap, and he doesn’t mind carrying you around

content: fluff, 1.7k, established relationship, lots of kissing, sex talk, kinda fade-to-black smut, reader being very clingy, and spencer’s tummy (my fav) a/n: i once told @mandarinmoons that i wanted to climb the man and not even in a sexual way and she said “like a koala?” and to that i answered YES! self-indulgent fics are the best

Spencer smells nice. Like, annoyingly nice. And it’s not the kind of nice that’s vaguely pleasant. No, this is the kind that settles into your bones. A mix of soap and something uniquely him that you can't quite name but would probably pay an unreasonable amount to bottle up.

Now that sounds like a dream. Imagine Spencer in a bottle, spritzed onto your neck, lingering on your skin. Imagine a personal cloud of him following you everywhere, with top notes of freshly brewed coffee and a base note of comfort that leaves you no choice but to lean in just a bit closer. You shift on his lap, pretending to get comfortable, but really, it's because you want to catch another whiff.

Your boyfriend catches you mid-inhale. "Comfortable?"

You don’t even bother pretending to be embarrassed. Who cares if he knows you’re borderline obsessed? Who wouldn’t be? He’s smart, handsome, and smells like heaven bottled in human form. So instead of pulling away, you double down, pressing your nose right into the curve of his neck as your answer.

"I'm starting to think you might be a little attached.”

You sigh against his skin, “Might be? Spencer, I'm practically grafted onto you at this point. You better get used to it."

A hand runs up your spine. “Not that I’m complaining, but my legs might actually fall asleep if I don’t get up soon.”

“So dramatic,” you tease, smiling as you press a soft kiss to his jaw. The subtle scrape of his stubble tickles your lips.

“I don’t think you’ve moved an inch in the past hour.”

“I don’t even want to move an inch,” you murmur against his cheek. "I just want to stay like this. Forever. If I could just crawl under your skin and stay there, that would be perfect.”

Spencer laughs softly, the sound rumbling under your lips. You feel the warmth of his smile as he tilts his head toward you. “That sounds sweet yet incredibly creepy.”

“You know what I mean!” You slide your arms around him, weaving them across his shoulders. “I just… I want to—ugh, I don't know… squeeze you so tight you’d become part of me? Like an extension of my arm or something."

“That definitely sounds less creepy.”

“Shut up.” Your lips trace the rough scratch of his jaw, brushing along the curve until you reach the corner of his mouth. "Don’t you want someone permanently glued to you?"

“You’re definitely making a case for it.”

“Oh I’d climb you if I had to.”

His hand slides up to cup the back of your neck. “Is this where I find out you’re secretly a koala this whole time?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum against his lips, “and you’re my tall, handsome tree.”

His laughter vibrates against your mouth, and you let yourself melt into him, breathing in that comforting scent you’ve grown addicted to. You love him so much. You love him too much that your heart feels like it’s stretching to make room for all of it.

When he finally pulls back, you can’t resist reaching up to smooth your thumb over his bottom lip. “See? Permanent attachment.”

His own thumb caresses the back of your neck in lazy strokes. You're practically dissolving into him.

"I don’t have much of a choice, do I?" The tip of your nose brushes against his as you shake your head. He steals another quick peck from your lips. "I really do need to get up though.”

You pout immediately. “Why?“

“Because my throat is actually starting to feel a little dry. I could use some water.”

“Water is overrated. Stay.”

“Honey,” he croons softly, his eyes squinting with that familiar crinkle at the corners. He thinks you’re cute when you’re clingy. “The kitchen is only ten feet away.”

“Ten feet too far. Do you know the kind of emotional damage I’ll suffer if we’re apart for too long?”

“So dramatic,” he mocks back, planting a kiss on your jaw, your cheek, and you giggle when his mouth lands on the skin between your ear and your neck. “All I’m asking for is ten feet. I promise I’ll be quick.”

“I might wither away from loneliness by the time you get back.”

You feel the ghost of his smile against your skin. “I’ll be back before you even have a chance to miss me.”

“I miss you already,” you sigh when he gently nips at the soft flesh of your neck. “Maybe you should just take me with you.”

You’re mostly bluffing, half-expecting him to laugh it off because Spencer has never actually carried you before. Not that you’ve ever minded—it’s not exactly the first thing you’d expect from him. But before you can even process it, he shifts beneath you, sliding one arm under your knee and the other around your back with surprising confidence.

And just like that, the floor seems miles away as he lifts you up.

“Wait! Wait!” you laugh, clutching at his shoulders. "Spencer!"

“I thought you wanted to come along."

“I didn’t think you’d actually carry me!”

You’re met with his steady grip, and to your surprise, he’s not struggling in the slightest. Apparently, those arms are stronger than you’d given him credit for, and it’s… well, very, very attractive. He strides confidently across the apartment, and you can’t help but let out an impressed, slightly flustered, “Okay, this is actually kind of hot.”

The corners of his lips twitch upward, but he doesn’t say anything.

“I did not know you were strong enough to do this,” you comment, then a thought sneaks into your mind, “Do you think we can try this position in the bedroom?”

He looks surprised and mildly amused. “Really? While standing?”

You loop your arms tighter around his neck. “You seem perfectly capable.”

“Wouldn’t I be doing all the work?”

“I thought you liked doing all the work.”

His chest presses against yours as he lets out another laugh. “If by that you mean spoil you, then yes, I do,” he says, casting a quick glance around the room. “Can I sit you on the counter, or are you planning to keep hanging on to me?”

“Tempting, but you can put me on the counter.”

With a gentle ease, he lifts you just slightly higher and sets you down on the cool countertop. “I can still carry you around if that’s what you want.”

“I know,” you reply, reaching up to brush a stray lock of curls from his face. “I don’t want to tire you out.”

“You’re not tiring me out,” he assures you as he reaches up to grab a glass from the top shelf, arm stretching just enough to give you a teasing glimpse of his soft stomach.

You can’t help yourself. You reach over and splay your hands over that warm skin, feeling the faint tickle of the fine hair scattered down his belly that disappears into his waistband. He doesn’t flinch—he’s long used to your hands finding their way to him like this—but he does cast a sidelong look in your direction. Behave.

If he’s expecting you to follow some sense of decorum, he should know better by now. You give his stomach a gentle, almost smug pat, and shakes his head as he moves to pour himself water.

“What do you want to do after this?” he asks, glancing back at you over his shoulder. You don’t give him an immediate answer, but he’s already suggesting a few ideas for the rest of the evening.

You can’t even pretend to pay attention. Is it normal to be this obsessed with your boyfriend? Because at this point, your focus isn’t even on the words coming out of his mouth. Something about a documentary, maybe. He’s probably rattling off the details right now, but you’re entirely distracted, your eyes shamelessly zooming in on the way his forearm flexes as he holds the glass. Even the soft hair dusting over his skin is doing things to you.

He catches your blatant stare and looks at you over the rim of his glass.

“What?”

“You are so sexy.”

He almost chokes on his water. The glass clatters against the countertop as he sputters, “What has gotten into you today?”

Probably ovulation. But you simply shrug, legs swinging idly against the cabinets beneath you. “I just love you.”

The answer is simple. Words spoken with all the casual sincerity you feel, but it’s enough to melt his astonishment into affection as he strides over and slips between your thighs.

“You just love me?”

“Yeah,” you reply softly, reaching up to brush over the delicious roughness of his stubble. “Like a ridiculous amount. Probably too much.”

His heart is swelling, so full it feels like it’s about to burst. “I love you too.”

“That’s it?”

You watch as his nose twitches, the smallest hint of a smile playing at his lips before he sighs, “I love you so much, angel."

"I think you can do better than that."

He huffs a chuckle, "I love you too much," he tries again, "more than I even know what to do with."

You smile in satisfaction, a little triumphant over his exaggeration. You’ve taught him well. “Say it again.”

The wide expanse of his palms settles on your waist.

“I am madly,” he presses a kiss to your cheek, “deeply,” another finds its way to your jaw, “hopelessly,” he murmurs as he grows even closer to your lips, “in love,” he’s a breath away from yours, “with you.”

The space between you shrinks to nothing. You swallow his last words, letting them dissolve on your tongue like the sweetest confection. What begins as a delicate melding of warmth and breath quickly intensifies, as though he’s determined to steal every bit of air from your lungs. And before you know it, his hands are sliding under you.

A surprised squeal escapes your lips as he lifts your weight, and an even louder gasp follows when he carries you toward the bedroom.

You know exactly what he plans to do for the rest of the evening.

[catdia]

Sevika with a Chubby S/o

Sevika loves bigger women, something about round tummies and thick thighs makes her go wild

calls you her peach because your nice and juicy

runs her fingers along your stretch marks, grabbing fistfuls of your flesh

chronic ass slapper and biter

uses your belly as leverage to fuck into you with her strap

constantly tells you that she wants to get you pregnant if she could

that you’ll make a great mama for her children

Sevika is much leaner and muscular, so whenever you get the chance you trace her abs with your finger tips

amazed by her raw powerful body you get an excuse to make her move furniture or heavy boxes

Silco adores you, so does Jinx. he asks Sevika how are you doing and genuinely cares about you (especially when you brought cookies for his daughter). because he has seen first hand what your relationship does to Sevika

got into a pretty nasty fight? Sevika punches his goons half to death. and looks even scarier than ever before

you patched up Sevika’s poncho after it got snagged on a broken window? he could almost see a sliver of a blush on her cheeks

his right hand woman has no idea the effect you have on her does she?

Sevika even toned down drinking and smoking

“my lady chews my ear off if I smell too much like a drive bar.”

you call her beautiful as you kiss her countless scars and rub the shoulder of her mechanical arm

“i’m everything but beautiful, doll.”

something primal takes over her as she sees how different your bodies are. you so soft and plush, her’s hard and brutal.

treats you like an absolute princess. buys you what ever you want. gives you what ever you want.

you are the one that cuts and styles her hair. she even asked you to shave her bald once and you had a heart attack.

Sevika plays dirty in card games. for every round she wins you take off a piece of clothing. one time she left you completely bare and you were pissed because you saw her cheat more than once.

ate your fat pussy out as a form of sorry

when she tells you to sit on her face, you SIT on her face

no “I’m too heavy” bullshit. if she couldn’t handle a little weight on her then she wouldn’t have the privilege of calling you her woman

and have you seen her?! Sevika is a tank. she can certainly handle herself (and you) more than anything

sleeps nude, with her chest pressed against your back and always a hand on your lower tummy

walks around the apartment shirtless all the time. flexes her arm when she catches you staring

uses your arm fat as a stress ball. It “makes her think better”. her words not mine

you patch her up after rough deals, crying and yelling at her for being too reckless. so selfish

Sevika kisses you. nose running down your neck, smelling your sweetness. she hates seeing you in pain. especially if it was caused by her

“i don’t like it when you cry.”

[whatifitis]

♡ Cursing The Daylight - LN 4 ♡

Summary: Lando hates knowing you never sleep well so when he believes he's figured out why, he makes it his mission to save his sleepy girlfriend from sleep deprivation.

Author's note: A little blurb thing I wrote at 2 am. I tried my best 😭

WC: 1045

CW: Lando being a bit dumb and the sweetest person ever, fluff

You were currently cursing the daylight, watching as a blue bird flew past your window.

Fucker 

It was yet another sleepless night in your apartment. You continued to stare at your alarm clock, waiting for it to go off, a little reminder that if you were capable of sleeping properly, you’d still have 5 more minutes of sleep. 

For most of your life, especially in recent years, you’ve never been able to get a full night's rest. You’d always end up tossing and turning for hours, as well as waking up about 7 times a night. Every day you would feel irritated and restless due to your lack of sleep. 

However, whenever you slept over at your boyfriend's house, you always managed to get a good night's sleep. You and your boyfriend, Lando, have been together for about 5 months. The first night you two had spent together, was the first time you’d been able to sleep well. You woke up bright and early and you felt amazing, like nothing could stop you. 

Over the course of your relationship, Lando came to be aware of your inability to sleep well most nights. Whenever you would sleep in your own apartment, Lando would receive mass amounts of texts from you, all about how you slept terribly and that you either needed a nap or many coffees. 

Lando, being the ever so lovely person he is, picked up on something. The only times you would get a good night's sleep, waking up and not needing to complain about anything and everything, was when you slept at his place. 

The mattress! The boy thought, she sleeps better at mine cause my mattress is fucking mint. 

Upon realizing this, Lando goes and orders the same exact mattress he has, and has it sent to yours. He thought it’d be a nice surprise for you so that you can get a goodnight sleep every night. Another plus would be that you guys are coming up on your 6 month anniversary, this counts as a gift right?, thinks Lando. 

The day Lando gets an email stating that the mattress was out for delivery, he books it to your place, wanting to be there to see your reaction to his gift and so that he could help you bring it in and set it up. 

Lando arrives at your apartment, greeted by you with a massive smile and sparkling eyes. He wastes no time in pulling you to him by your hips and wrapping his arms around your torso. As you wrap your arms around his neck you say, “As much as I love seeing you, what are you doing here? I thought we were going to meet up later tonight for movie night.”

As Lando pulls away to look at you, the postman has just arrived. “That’s why.” he says, smiling cheekily and pointing to the truck behind him. 

The both of you watch as the postman begins to unload the mattress from the vehicle, before Lando jumps in and helps the man drag the mattress to the door of your apartment. 

Whilst Lando and the man bring the mattress into your apartment, you stand there dumbfounded. 

What the actual fuck is going on? The only thing I’ve ordered to my apartment is a new book and I don’t think the book is that big? Wait, did I order the right thing?!

As soon as the box is in your living area, you confront Lando, “Lan, my love, my gorgeous boy… what the fuck?” you ask, pointing at the big ass box in your living area. 

Your Lan stands there next to the box, all but swaying as he stands and gives you the biggest smile he could plaster on his face. 

The cheeky fuck. 

“It’s a mattress!” he says as he poses next to it, adding a pose for effect. 

“A mattress?” you ask.

“A mattress.” 

After a moment of silence, where you contemplated whether to strangle him or take his credit card away from him, you ask “Why?”

“Cause, you’re always tired and you never sleep well unless you’re at my place. So I figured out why! It’s because you find my mattress to feel so much better and comfier. I even ordered the same bed sheets I have, but I got yours in green since it’s your favorite color. They should be here tomorrow though so for tonight you can spend the night with me or we can use your old sheets.” he proposes, smiling so wide it makes your heart melt from the sweetness that you don’t deserve. 

He gets you the same mattress he has in his home, for your home. 

“I sleep better at yours because you’re there. Not because of the mattress, you muppet!” you exclaim. 

You watch as Lando’s face immediately drops, “what?” he asks. He’s truly been stunned with this information, “What’d you mean it’s not because of the mattress? You mean to tell me I haven’t helped solve your sleeping issues?! I thought I was smarter than all the doctors you’ve seen for this issue!”

You can’t help but laugh at your boyfriend's statement. 

“Gorgeous, you thought that of all the doctors I’ve seen… that none of them have thought that I was sleeping on an uncomfortable mattress?” 

Lando just stood there silent, blankly staring at a wall, likely contemplating all his life choices. 

“Fuck. So, do you not want the mattress? Seems like a hassle to return.” he states as he scratches the back of his neck, wondering how he’s going to return the heavy ass box. “Wait, you sleep better when you’re around me?” he looks at you, somewhat shocked. 

You walk up to him, taking his hands in yours and making him look you in the eyes, “Gorgeous, in the time we’ve been together, we’ve slept on couches and several different mattresses. And I always sleep well no matter where or what we are sleeping on. I sleep better because I’m with you, I feel safe with you.”

“Oh… oh!” he giggles a bit. Red starts to lightly color his face, he’s blushing, “That’s nice.”

You don’t think you’ve met anyone more awkward than this man, but you love him because of that, not in spite of it. 

[papayadays]

just one thing

a/n: a cute little friends to lovers for lando's birthday!

“shit, shit, shit,” you muttered, nearly dropping your phone as it vibrated with a call. the screen had a silly picture of your best friend, lando, thought it was the last thing you wanted to see right now. you pressed the green button, putting the phone on speaker as the light turned green.

“lan, what’s up?” you smiled. “how’s padel with everyone?” you listened as lando told you about the game with a few of his fellow drivers, though you weren’t truly paying attention. you got out of your car, two shopping bags in hand as you took out your spare key to lando’s house, opening the door and heading in.

it was lando’s birthday, and he wasn’t expecting you to see you in monaco today, but you wanted to surprise. so, you bought a plane ticket, rented a car, and drove to lando’s apartment with his presents in tow. you set your suitcase aside, taking out the gifts while also decorating the rooms a bit. you had also gotten a cake as well, wanting your best friend to have the best possible birthday to celebrate his twenty-fifth birthday.

“so what are you doing?” lando asked, bringing you out of your preparations.

your brain whirred, trying to come up with a plausible answer. “i’m, y’know, staying at home, reading a book.”

“right, of course you are,” lando snorted, and you could practically hear his eye roll. at least he bought the lie. “well, i’ll call you soon. i think we’re going to wrap up, so i’ll have some time once i get back home.”

“gotcha,” you replied, a giddy grin on your face as your plan was about to fall into place. “talk to you in a few, lan. and again, happy birthday!” you had called him first thing in the morning before your flight to wish him a happy birthday, though he just assumed you were waking up early for once.

after a short bit, you heard the door opening and footsteps walking in. “lando!” you exclaimed, rushing forward to tackle your best friend in a hug. “happy twenty-fifth birthday!”

at first, lando tensed up, having not expected you to be here. but his shock was replaced by incredulous disbelief, arms wrapping around you tightly. “how are you here?” he asked.

“i flew here, wanted to be here for your birthday,” you told him, eyes meeting his, which crinkled at the corners due to his wide smile. “now, i have some presents for you.”

you gestured to the kitchen island, and as lando followed your gaze, his jaw dropped. “you didn’t have do all of this,” he said. “i don’t need all these presents.”

“you don’t need them, but i wanted to give them to you,” you argued back playfully. “you do the same for me, let me spoil you a little as your best friend.”

after you nudged his shoulder, lando stepped forward and reached out to unwrap his first present, which was a new camera. he opened his mouth to say something, but you interrupted teasingly, telling him to open his other presents first.

one by one, lando opened his presents, revealing some clothes, a pair of shoes, a bracelet, a bottle of wine, and a small jellycat stuffed animal for fun. you also had a card that you had written a message in, and you watched lando’s smile widen as he read it.

you observed lando’s reaction as you showed him the custom cake you got with his face on it, making him snicker. “it better taste good,” he muttered good-humoredly.

“so you like everything?” you grinned, wanting to make sure you hadn’t messed anything up. lando chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a tight hug.

“i love it, thank you so much,” lando murmured, head resting on your shoulder. you could feel the rise and fall of his chest and the warmth of his body against yours. glancing up, your eyes met his, a shy smile on your lips.

“you got everything you wanted, lan?” you joked, nudging his side.

lando’s gaze bore into yours, hands squeezing your hips ever so slightly. “no, not yet,” he said quietly, gazing at you. “there’s still one thing that i want, so badly.”

your breath hitched as he pulled you an inch closer, eyes never leaving his. “well, you need to tell me, so i can get it for you,” you said, attempting to be playful, though your breathless voice ruined it.

“do i need to spell it out for you?” lando chuckled, one hand reaching out to cup your cheek before sliding down to tilt your chin up. he looked into your eyes again- just to be sure- before asking. “can i?”

“yes.”

and that was all it took. lando’s lips met yours, stealing all the air from your lungs as your hands were pressed flat against his chest, fingertips brushing his shoulders. you would be lying if you said you hadn’t harbored feelings for lando beyond the surface, but never would you have imagined being here. kissing lando, your best friend. and although the thought seemed a bit nerve-inducing, everything about this felt natural.

you two pulled apart, both of you in need of oxygen after the kiss took up what seemed like eternity. “how long?” lando smirked.

“excuse me?” you asked, knowing exactly what he was referring to but deflecting.

“how long have you liked me?” lando clarified, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“for like a few years,” you admitted bashfully, cheeks the lightest shade of pink.

lando’s eyes widened, but not with the judgment you had thought; instead, his eyes were filled with delight and surprise. “so you’re saying if one of us had confessed, we could’ve been together for years?” he questioned, still in shock. you nodded, and lando’s hand reached out to squeeze yours.

“now did you get what you wanted?” you looked at him, wrapping your arms around neck. a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you pulled him closer.

“yeah, i did,” lando chuckled, leaning in to press his lips against yours again. your hands carded through his hair, tilting your head as you felt his soft lips on yours. your heart was practically palpitating, butterflies frenzied in your stomach.

as you parted, you leaned your forehead against his. “happy birthday, lan,” you grinned.

lando nodded, breath mingling with yours. “best birthday ever.”

[machveil]

I can't resist the siren call

Roommate!Simon Riley that low-key enjoys fucking with your friends Y/N

subtle foreshadowing… I suppose I can dip into my nsfw Roommate!Simon Riley thoughts

Roommate!Simon Riley who shares a laundry bin with you, it had been agreed a long time ago that just doing a big load would be easier. you takes turns, knowingly stealing each other’s clothes every couple days when the laundry is fresh out the machine. you know Simon took an oversized t-shirt you owned, but that’s okay, you took his favorite gym hoodie

Roommate!Simon Riley who doesn’t get embarrassed about his underwear being in the bin with yours, it’s all going in the machine anyways. that doesn’t stop him from raising an eyebrow though when his favorite boxers go missing. he was sure he put them in with the dirties, well, the cleans now. he figures the machine ate it, or maybe they’ll show up some day by chance - he shrugs it off and separates his clothes from yours, snagging one of your oversized sweaters to lounge in later

Roommate!Simon Riley who freezes when he sees you on the couch that night. eyes wide and jaw slack, he can’t bring himself to move. sat watching something on the tv - he can’t be bothered to acknowledge whats playing - he stares at you, wearing his boxers as shorts. “Hey, come watch this— I’ll catch you up since it just started. I’m not pausing it though so you better pay attention.”, your words are all in one ear and out the other. suddenly his legs are moving on their own, stopping in front of you. he doesn’t register what you’re saying, telling him to move because you can’t see the tv, but then he speaks

Roommate!Simon Riley whose voice is deliciously deep, a little raspy from how his throat suddenly feels dry, “S’that mine?”, he asks, eyeing his boxers. he’s never had such a hard time swallowing before, heartbeat erratic as you casually respond, “Huh— oh, yeah. They’re really comfy, the fabrics nice.”. fabrics nice, yeah, he knows. “You— ya know those are boxers, right love?”, he asks, hands twitchy as you reply, “Mhm, just borrowin’ them.”

CW: guilty wank, man is hopeless [kisses his cheek]

Roommate!Simon Riley who’s a mess after that interaction. you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at him, but he’s losing it on the inside. he’s seen you be audacious with stealing his clothes before, taking his loose-fit tank tops that left little to the imagination on you, stealing clothes you knew he favored and parading around in them, but his boxers? that had him stalking back to his room, quick to turn on his heel before you could see his pants tent

he’s sweating, closes the door to his room a little harder than he meant to. god, he wants to go back out there and see you again, get an eyeful of how comfortable you looked - wearing his boxers like they were yours. you wouldn’t know, and he can’t help but think about it, but you had stolen his favorite pair. they’re plain, a simple black pair, something he bought at the store because he needed new underwear. but when you wear them? they suddenly looked different, makes his heart hammer against his chest. it feels like he walked out into the living room and you wearing lingerie, not something he got for fifteen pounds

he feels a little guilty, shoving his jeans down his thighs as he sits down on his bed. you’re home, sat in the living room just down the hall, and here’s Simon fishing his leaky cock out of his underwear. he really shouldn’t, he should sneak into the bathroom for a cold shower, think about war and blood and bullets to get his boner down. but he isn’t, he’s spitting into his palm and groaning, bringing his free hand up to cover his mouth - he’s never been good about keeping quiet. it’s not his fault you were out there wearing his clothes, you were the one that decided to look so— so cozy and content in your makeshift shorts. domestic

when that word settles at the forefront of his brain Simon’s hips jerk, you looked domestic, wanting to watch some show with him. his leg jolts slightly, hand moving to shallowly pump his weeping head. maybe your friends are right, Simon does take care of you - could bend you over and make you sob his name - he’s basically your boyfriend, often mistaken for your husband. his thighs tense when he imagines a ring on your finger— no, his dog tags hanging from your neck— god, holding you at night as an actual couple—

he’s choking out a moan, muffled and hoarse, as he coats his hand. eyes fluttering shut and breathing heavily, all his thoughts fly out the window as his cum drips down his fingers - all his thoughts except for one. he’s going to have to go back out there later to eat dinner with you, and oh, fuck, he sucks in a deep breath as he chubs up again

[beardedjoel]

indebted

dark!joel x f!reader. one shot.

main masterlist | ao3 | kofi

summary: you're having a bad day. one you think is getting better once a rough around the edges man comes to your rescue. you didn't expect it would takes such a sharp turn for the worse. first person pov reader. 9.2k words.

warnings: 18+ MDNI! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT! NON CONSENUAL SEXUAL ACTS, READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION, pervy, sleazy, and foul mouthed joel. degradation, sexual favors, forced oral and piv, virgin reader, corruption, innocence, and daddy kinks featured. biiig ol' age gap (reader's age not mentioned other than "young" but i imagine her as 18-20 as she has a relatively immature attitude, imagining joel 50-55), this is not for everyone and that's okay. i'm not responsible for the content you consume.

a/n: i had some hormonal induced insanity and came up with this. i had a great time trying out a new pov for writing fic! enjoy him as much as i did, friends 🖤 and thanks @joelstummy for the amazing freaky beta work!

I’ll be the first person to admit now that what I’ve been doing is stupid. Dangerous. Idiotic. The list goes on. I can hear my father’s stern, militant voice in the back of my head, telling me as much. Except now he likely won’t get the chance to relish in it because I’m going to die here. Way out here where nobody will find my body, and I’ll be just another person that went missing in the QZ, never to be seen again. But this time, it’s not some sleazy FEDRA scheme and coverup or a smuggling deal gone wrong.

It’s utterly and completely my fault.

Sneaking out wasn’t meant to become a habit, but after the first few times, I lost the fear and adrenaline that had burned hot through my veins at those first steps of freedom. I craved it again, so I kept going further. And further. Away from civilization as I knew it, until the cluster of buildings known as the Quarantine Zone became a tiny speck in the distance. Out here was desolation, nothingness, only abandoned buildings to explore. The infected were another story, but I started to learn routes that helped me avoid encounters with them.

It helped clear my mind after a while, this newly found sense of adventure. All I’d ever known was a cage, a walled city that had become so mundane I felt my insides starting to rot from the listlessness of it all. My father was important - top in the rankings - I knew that, and it was all the more reason to keep me safely locked away while the city stirred with chatter of an uprising against FEDRA. 

He never bothered to check on me much, anyways, making my little forays quite easy. Once I’d persuaded enough people with ration cards, they’d shown me the tunnel leading to freedom. Well, that tunnel, then another, a ladder to climb back up to the surface, and only then could I go through a precarious hole in a chain link fence. That was the smuggler’s route, they said, an easy ticket to getting in and out without being noticed. 

I’d been abusing it, staying out for days at a time, never able to drink in enough of this quiet solitude that was of my own choosing, not my father’s. I couldn’t quite figure out what hole inside of me I was trying to fill, but I’d be damned if I stopped trying.

However, today seemed to be my last chance to try at all. His footsteps had been quiet - so quiet - approaching behind me. An old store, full of half decayed plushies, molded candies, and other adorable things from lives long put in the past, had called to me, distracted me. The arm around my throat, constricting, the other coming up to put a hand over my mouth. A dirty, putrid smell encompassing everything as I sputtered against him. This is it, I’d thought. What a waste.

I scream and fight against the strong hold he has on me, a nasty sneer right against my skin. “What’s some fresh meat like you doing waaaay out here, huh?” a dark voice rattles into my ear.

I scream behind his dirty palm in response, kicking my legs back at him. I should have learned more self defense, but who needs it when you’ve spent most of your life safely tucked away with your family name as your biggest protector?

“You smell good… real good…” The creep’s voice buzzes by me as he takes a deep breath in, making me shudder. One swift kick and I’m sure this is it, the one to knock him senseless and let me escape. He’s smart for how distracted he seems to be by my scent, and he’s one step ahead of me. My legs are kicked out from underneath me as I rear one back, and I fall to the ground, the man coming down with me to sit on my back, straddling my body in a fluid motion. He grips my hands behind my back, leaving me helpless in my fight, kicking and screaming. I’m ice and heat all at once, my body burning in a frozen blaze, my fight or flight quickly turning to fawn as his weight presses down on me.

“You can have anything in my backpack, anything! Please, let me go! I - I don’t want any trouble,” I choke out pathetically, hating how my voice comes out in shaky waves. This isn’t how to appeal to people like this, people who have lost their sense of humanity, evident by the way he’s now grinding himself down onto my jean clad asscheeks. 

A laugh comes out of him that would haunt me as evil incarnate for the rest of my days if I wasn’t so sure that I was going to die at the hands of this man after he was done with me. “We both know I don’t give a fuck about any damn backpack of yours. I don’t want any trouble either, sweet cheeks, I just think you’d have a lot of fun with me and my friends. But mostly me,” he replies with the hint of a wink in his voice. 

My stomach clenches, sickness rolling in that is only furthered as the man leans down, cloaking me with his large form. I can’t turn enough to see him, to even know what this violation of a man looks like, but his energy is beyond hideous as I catch a glimpse of his yellowing teeth in a grin before he pushes my head down to the cracked linoleum tiles. My hair tangled in his fingers, he holds me down hard, and I struggle to breathe as he crushes me beneath him.

“Now, are you gonna come easily, or do I need to do things the hard way? Either way is fine with me, for a fine piece of ass like this. In fact, I might prefer it the hard way, but we’d hate to ruin this pretty skin of yours, wouldn’t we?” He says slowly, pressing the cold blade of a knife to my throat.

“O-okay, okay,” I acquiesce, stopping my squirming, just needing a bit of room to breathe, my lungs heavy inside my chest. My panic only makes my chest tighter, even when the man leans back the tiniest bit. I had hoped that my sudden compliance would get that knife off my throat, but it hasn’t. “Just don’t hurt me… please…” I whimper.

He lets out a long, ragged sigh. “Afraid I can’t promise that.” 

I’ve never felt fear like this, such certainty that I was about to be ruined, my life as I know it changing without a chance to even look back. I squeeze my eyes shut and brace for it, for anything he’s about to do next, finally accepting that there isn’t any appealing to scummy men in a scummy world. But nothing comes except for a muffled crack ringing through the air, and then a thud as the entire weight of my adversary falls on top of me, crushing. Something warm has splattered on my skin, my face, then starts to coat my jacket, seeping through. I shake violently, begging my body to catch a full breath under the weight of him. 

Then as suddenly as it happened, it stops, the body yanked off of me and tossed to the side with ease. The deafening thud of his entire weight onto the ground is stark. I flip over and scramble backwards, grabbing the knife that had fallen from the man’s hand in his swift, final moment. Holding up a shaky hand, I grip the knife tightly, looking up to face a brutish, tall man with overgrown hair of chestnut and gray. A trim beard with the same coloring wraps around his tightly set jaw. He’s all wide shoulders, thick arms, broad chest, and my senses go on high alert again. His gun is practically still smoking as it hangs at his side, an active threat.

“Y’alright?” he drawls, thick and deep, echoing through the abandoned shop. One step closer to me has the knife practically flailing as I struggle to calm my hands, a strained hum alongside my shaky breathing the only sound I seem capable of making.

“Put that thing down,” he says calmly, almost exasperated. His stance slackens, one knee pushed out as he sizes me up. I’m likely the most miserable looking thing he’s seen in a while, I’m sure. “You’re harmless.”

“H-how do I know you’re not with him?” I blurt out.

My gruff savior lifts his brows incredulously. “That guy?” he asks, motioning impatiently to the dead body only a foot away. “Think I’d be puttin’ a bullet right in his skull if he was my best buddy?”

My eyes dance over him as I think. He has a point, and he did just save me from whatever debauched things that stranger’s mind had been conjuring up.

“Y-yeah, you have a point,” I finally say. He steps closer, and this time, I let him, putting the knife down. He motions with an authoritarian air for me to push it away, and I obey immediately, flinging it across the room. 

“Poor fucker died with a hard on, didn’t he?” The man muses as his boots thud on the way over to the body, kicking it slightly as if to check, letting it roll back before turning his attention on me. “Now, are you usually this stupid, comin’ into hunter territory, or what?” he asks, reaching a hand down to me, presumably to help me up.

“I didn’t know…” I mumble, letting his hand hang there. He doesn’t snatch it back right away, although I can tell he wants to, that he’s already beyond exasperated by his day and the last thing he’d wanted was a damsel in distress like me. I hate that he’s proving all the things I’d been trying to disprove about myself by coming out on these solo trips into the great, big outside. I’m weak. Dependent. Needy. It makes my skin crawl with self loathing and frustration.

“Didn’t know, huh? So just clueless, then?” the man spits out, staring down at me with darkened eyes that make me turn my head away in shame. At my sullen silence, he seems to soften a little. “I’m Joel,” he says, an offering to go along with his outstretched hand.

I sigh, taking it and telling him my own name. I’m up on my feet, dusting myself off and looking at him shyly now. I don’t know what people are supposed to say when someone saves their life, so I just mumble, “Thank you.”

Joel snorts, nodding in acknowledgment as he crouches to pat down the body, seeming to come up short of anything interesting. “Don’t thank me yet,” he says, standing back to his full, towering height, glancing around with sharp eyes. “We should move.”

I might be as stupid as he says, because I wordlessly start to follow him towards the door. His hand stretches out behind him, open and inviting me in as he checks outside the door with a careful peek, his gun held tightly in the other. I stare down at it in disbelief. “C’mon, I don’t bite,” he sighs, that perpetual vexation in his tone again as he twitches his brows at me. “Need you close by. An’ it seems you have a tendency to go where you shouldn’t.”

My cheeks grow hot at the harsh truth of it, and I grasp his hand without any further objections, marveling for a moment at the way it envelops mine. All calloused and hard, mine soft and unused for labor of any kind. 

“I’ve got a safehouse not too far from here.”

“A safehouse?”

“It’s already gettin’ dark. There ain’t no way we’re making it back to the QZ today, princess,” he retorts quickly, the pet name mocking on his tongue.

“How’d you know?” I ask softly, disappointment pressing in on my shoulders.

He chuckles out more of a snort, pulling me around a bend, slowly leaving behind the dangerous territory that I’d unknowingly encroached on. “You’re a FEDRA princess if I’ve ever seen one,” he tells me, and my heart sinks that I was so easy to read. I’d seen how capable this man Joel was, but damn was he was astute, more than I’d given him credit for. 

I chew at my lip. “Fair enough,” I mumble under my breath, letting him take his well earned win. The longer I hang onto Joel’s hand, letting him expertly weave me through the barren streets, the safer I start to feel. He knows where he’s going, a practiced route he’s taken countless times, and it hits me then that this man is a smuggler. He has to be.

“Are you a smuggler?” I ask pointedly. “I’ve heard that people like that come in and out of the QZ.”

Joel falters for just a brief second, giving me a wily grin. “Look who’s readin’ who now,” he says with a dry chuckle. “Ain’t gonna run and tell your daddy, are you?”

I shake my head, pressing my lips together in a smile. “I can keep a secret.” In fact, I like keeping secrets from my father, hence the sneaking out, so Joel can count on me to never rat him out.

His amused grin in response lights a little flame akin to friendship inside of me. This grumpy old bastard could smile after all. “Just through here,” he says, letting the smile drop, taking a sharp left down a street just as a sprinkle of rain starts to fall on us. It’s a less urban area - more like a neighborhood - sprouted with apartment buildings and abandoned, vine covered cars. It’s my favorite thing about all the exploration I’ve been doing, seeing the way nature can reclaim anything and make it her own. 

The cracked street below us makes me tread carefully, lagging behind as Joel’s hand tugs me along urgently. We turn down an alley, Joel whipping his head left to right before dragging me behind him, finally dropping my hand to open a door that leads right into a tiny lobby and a stairwell. He runs a hand through his damp hair, slicking it back some - a rather handsome look for him, now that I’m thinking about it. I try to ignore that thought as his voice booms through the empty room.

“Up,” he commands, gripping my hand again and leading us up the stairs. 

My stomach sinks a little when he takes out a key, unlocking a padlock on one of the apartments numbered 405 and pushing the old, chipped door inwards. I have no reason not to trust Joel, he saved my life afterall, but I can’t shake the nerves I feel from being in an unfamiliar place with an unfamiliar man. It’s quiet here, likely nobody in the vicinity but the two of us.

“Home sweet home,” he grunts out, dropping his backpack and gun holster near the door and shrugging off his damp jacket, leaving him in a plain tee shirt that hugs his muscular frame. It’s a small, cramped apartment with a living room and kitchen directly next to it, a little window cut into the wall, peering in on the living room from above the stove. It looks as if it’s left exactly as it was years ago, full of furniture and clutter, only a vessel for Joel to use without making it his own at all. I peer past to see a small hallway I can only assume leads to a bedroom and bathroom.

“Know it ain’t the palace you’re probably used to, but we’ll be safe an’ dry here,” he say, and I roll my eyes behind his back. If Joel thinks that I live in a palace, he’s clearly misunderstood the state that the QZ is in. My father’s house is spacious, sure, but it’s just as dilapidated as the rest of the city. The only difference is the level of protection afforded to our homes.

He ambles into the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets with a clatter, then comes back moments later with an open can of beans and two forks. I’m still standing in the entryway, unsure of what to do with myself.

“Hungry?” he asks gruffly, and I shake my head, wide eyed. I’d lost my appetite the minute that man had grabbed me earlier, and I couldn’t seem to get it back. Joel shrugs, digging in with a messy forkful of from the can. “Your funeral,” he says, chewing.

Joel sinks down onto the couch with a tiny groan, setting down the can on the side table next to his armrest, giving the other cushion an expectant look. “Well, you gonna sit your ass on down an’ tell me why the hell I had to save it today, or what? Why the hell you’re wanderin’ around like it’s a free for all out there?”

I flinch slightly at his harsh tone, but gingerly step my way into the room, unzipping my jacket and shedding it. For the chill outside, the temperature inside the apartment is more comfortable than I’d expect, my skin welcoming the change. Joel eyes my thin tee shirt, and I feel a flash of heat sweep my skin before I feel the prickle of goosebumps, knowing my nipples are poking through the fabric. His eyes catch there before he promptly averts them.

I sit precariously next to Joel on the loveseat, pressed as far away as I can from him, not wanting to cramp his personal space. But he seems to have no problem with that anyways, his legs spread wide open in a comfortable stance, leaned back against the cushions. He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes shut for a moment as he awaits my answer. 

“I was… exploring,” I say simply, cringing at how ridiculous it sounds coming out of my mouth. Who leaves perfect safety to wander around in a dangerous world on purpose? For no other reason than curiosity and a sudden, rebellious sense of defiance?

His eyes snap open, head pulling up from the couch, turning my way. “Explorin’…” He mulls on the word, slowly licking his lips before pursing them. “You’re tellin’ me I had to save a FEDRA brat today ‘cause she was explorin’? You really are stupid. ‘Course you are, look how young y’are. Look how fuckin’... sheltered.” Joel throws his hands up, landing them on his thighs with a soft thud, sighing. “Can’t even blame ya.”

I pluck up every bit of courage I have, glaring at him with narrowed eyes. “Look, it was really nice of you to save me and everything, and I do thank you for it. I’m sorry if I messed up whatever… smuggling stuff you had going on today, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me… stupid.” The last word is quiet, mousy, and I turn my head down, eyes shining with unshed tears that I silently curse myself for. My father’s voice rings through my head - you stupid girl! - making me shudder.

Joel sucks at his teeth. “Hit a nerve, I see,” he says passively. “Alright, I’m sorry kiddo. I just mean, you’re puttin’ yourself at risk doin’ what you’re doin’, and it ain’t a smart idea. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I sigh out, relaxing a little. “I just needed to get away.”

“From your dear old daddy?” he teases, picking up the can, shoveling several more bites into his mouth. I go silent, picking at a thread on the couch rather than answer him. “Ah, another nerve, I see. Daddy issues. Could’ve guessed that one.”

“I don’t have -”

“Sweetheart…” Joel interrupts, looking at me from under his brows, pulling his lip between his teeth, seeming to look at me in a fresh light. It sends my skin tingling, the way he eyes me, a glint in his stare. It seems to prove his point, the way a pet name from a middle aged man seems to immobilize me against my will. I want to slap the smug look off his face, but I have no grounds to do so, only grumbling quietly with my cheeks blazing in embarrassment. A prickle of something else works its way deep into my belly, something warm at how his scrutinizing eyes flick over my body, the lines in his face set, showing his age, his experience. 

“Take a piece of advice from a man probably as old as your daddy, then. Trust me when I say that outside those walls ain’t the place to find what you’re lookin’ for. The sooner you let go of that notion, the better off you’ll be.” 

Frustration blooms hot in my chest, overpowering whatever the hell that sudden, unwanted feeling was. I’m tired of people dictating what I can and can’t do, what I’m capable of. “People do it all the time - smugglers - you would know,” I retort. “I’ve been doing it for months. Never had a problem until today. It was just some bad luck.”

“Bad luck? Really? You’d be that man’s newest little cock sleeve if it weren’t for me savin’ your ass,” Joel growls, standing up off the couch. I wince at his vulgar language, the picture it paints in my mind of what life might have been like if Joel hadn’t happened to be in the right place at the right time.

“I - I know - I’m sorry,” I blurt out, feeling my hands start to go shaky. “Thank you, Joel, I really - I really do owe you. Everything.”

“Like I said, don’t thank me yet.” He steps over so that he’s in front of me, using his boot to part my legs, scooting them apart and standing between them. “Think I did all this out of the kindness of my heart, did you? Didn’t think that maybe I was after the same damn thing as buddy boy earlier?”

I’m like a fish out of water, the way my lips move with no sound coming out. “Joel…” I breathe out in warning, in questioning. I see his arms strain in his t-shirt, hands flexing open and closed.

“I can’t say the thought ain’t crossin’ my mind now. You are mighty pretty. And you do owe me a favor. One big ol’ gigantic favor, for savin’ your backside.” He brushes his fingers along his jeans, palming his crotch for a brief second before leaning forward, caging me in on the couch with hands on either side of me, pressing into the cushions. My heart hammers in my chest so loud I expect Joel can hear it, can feel the fear taking hold of me. He bares his teeth above me like a wild animal, and now I’m certain he can smell my fear too, that he thrives on it. 

“You know what? Maybe you were bound to find what you were lookin’ for outside those walls. Maybe that’s what you needed, is it? Couldn’t find any love from daddy back home, so you wanted to find someone to turn you into their own personal little play thing. Poor baby just needed some attention, did she? Sad, really.”

My hands tremble, my words lost as I can only breathe in shaky little breaths, shaking my head violently. How can this god forsaken day keep getting worse? 

“Please -” I mumble out, bringing a jittery hand up to my mouth. Joel slaps it away, gripping my chin harshly at first, inspecting me before his thumb brushes over my bottom lip. I’d think it was gentle, caring, even, if not for the nasty look spreading across his face, the grin that darkens it along with his eyes.

“Time to put this pretty thing to better use and show how grateful you are to ol’ daddy Joel,” he says, using his free hand to deftly unbuckle his belt, the jangling sound like a death knell, making my throat go dry. “Promise I’ll be much better than he would’ve been earlier. People say I’m… a generous lover.” His drawl is slow and calculated, voice deep with lust, the sly smirk turning to a triumphant grin as he chuckles, amusing himself.

He grips the top of my head, pushing me to slide down the couch cushions into a slump as I struggle, powerless against a man of his strength. He positions himself higher up to bring the giant denim bulge right in my view. I wince, trying to turn my head away as his zipper comes undone, his hand grasping deep into the fly of his jeans, yanking his cock out. When it springs free, I gasp as he lets it slap me in the face. Hot, throbbing, and massive, leaking a shiny bead of precum that had ended up somewhere on my cheek. I sit stunned and held in place by his rough hand. 

The cold hard fact hits me that this is the first time I’m ever going to experience intimacy of any kind. Hell, I’ve only had one kiss before, and it was when I was ten years old, with a boy belonging to one of my father’s friends, a name I can’t even remember now. The first penis I’m ever seeing is right here, right now, in a context I have had zero control over. It’s thicker than I’d imagined one could be, softer too as I look at the skin of it. Veins run along the sides and bottom, all leading up to an imposing, angry pink head at the tip, practically bursting as it awaits me. It’s magnificent and terrifying at the same time, nothing like what I’d expected based on the half-assed health classes provided by schooling in the QZ. Sex has always had a shroud of mystery for me, and I never imagined that all those secrets, long awaited, would be uncovered like this. A dingy bedroom, a man likely almost three times my age, and me as an unwilling participant. Desperation swiftly grips my chest as I realize I actually have no clue what goes on behind closed doors between two people, and I have a feeling I’m about to find out in the crudest of ways.

The fearful innocence I know is about to be stolen from me causes tears to sting at my eyes, fat little droplets that instantly start to roll down my cheeks, leaking onto Joel’s large fingers still gripped around my chin. I start to struggle, my body seeming to catch up with my mind, loud warning sirens of DANGER! DANGER! finally blaring out in a panic. When I squirm, Joel plants one of his knees into my body, keeping himself balanced while still being able to hold me down. 

“Don’t cry now, honey, it’ll only make him harder.” He sneers as he strokes his cock, slapping the head against my closed lips a few times. He wrenches my jaw down, forcing it open. “Nice ‘n wide for this big boy, there we go,” he says, not waiting a moment longer to barge his cock past the opening while he has it. 

He groans loudly as he shoves several inches in right from the get go, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head. The hand that had been holding my jaw presses in on my shoulder, holding me in place. I’d have nowhere to go, anyways, with his knee on my thighs, his entire body caging me in, the cushions giving me no leeway to the way his cock is forcefully intruding, inch by inch down my throat. The taste is all consuming - a little salty, a little ripe, tasting like days of Joel’s old sweat, but it’s not completely bad, not what I’d have expected. It’s heady in a strange way, clouding my mind as I try to cope with the fullness in my mouth. 

The next moment I sputter, my eyes popping open wide, flooded with tears as he hits the back of my throat. I try to gasp for air and I find that I can’t. This is torture of some form, it must be. Full panic follows, where I try to move, but every avenue is pinned down in some way by Joel’s massive body. I weakly flap at him with my hands but it barely even deters him from rocking his hips in and out, choking me again on the thrust inwards as the back of my throat tightens, gagging around his thick girth. 

“Open up, relax your goddamn throat,” Joel hisses at me, keeping his cock pressed fully to the back of my throat, constricting any airflow I was hoping to have. I finally breathe shakily out of my nose when he pulls back just enough, only to slide it in slowly, his eyes carefully watching me. I glance up for the first time at him from below, hoping to find any shred of humanity he might have for me, but I’m met with an icy, dark gaze clouded with lust, power. 

“Gonna fuck your face now, like the dumb little slut you are. This is what stupid girls get for wanderin’ around by themselves. This is what they ask for.” He punctuates the last words with a sharp thrust inwards, my entire body convulsing with the gag I sputter out around him, drool pooling around my stretched lips. I would whimper if I could, if I even had the air to do so. 

Joel is relentless for the next few moments, rapid thrusts in and out of my mouth, my head held conveniently in place against the couch cushions for him. He groans deeply, his pleasure evident while I’m just trying to get my next breath in. I time them expertly, learning as I go, letting him continue to take from me to gain his own pleasure. 

“That’s it, that’s right, you’re turnin’ into quite the good girl,” Joel mutters above me, rolling his hips with vigor and making me gag again. I can feel drool dribbling down my chin, my neck, landing on my chest, and it makes me feel ashamed, embarrassed, and a twinge of something else. I can’t tell as Joel grunts, pumping himself in and out of my gruesomely contorted jaw, if the fact that it’s something even remotely sexual has me feeling things I shouldn’t. My cheeks burn hot as my eyes continue to water - how much of it is crying and how much of it is just my body’s response to him hitting the back of my throat, I don’t know.

Then he surprises me by slowing down, languid strokes of his cock in and out with sloppy sounds, a soft hand landing on my head, stroking before bundling my hair in his fist tightly. “Knew you’d have such a filthy little mouth for daddy,” he coos, rolling his hips forward a little further, touching the back of my throat with his cock. 

My body spasms a little when he keeps pushing, grumbling quiet groans of approval. My eyes squeeze shut, leaking out an onslaught of tears. I don’t want to see the aftermath if it ends up that it’s one gag too many and the inevitable happens. But to my surprise, he keeps slipping down, intruding on my throat. I try to keep my trembling body still, wanting to keep my throat relaxed, terrified of what might happen if I fight this. Can a person die this way? Could I really choke to death on this man’s dick? 

“Jesus fuck. Lord have fuckin’ mercy…” Joel breathes out as he pushes even further. “Swallowin’ him down, aren’t ya? Feel me right in here, I bet.” I flinch when he touches his hand to the column of my throat, wrapping his fingers softly around the flesh. When he starts to retreat, the choking is back in a second, but Joel holds me by the throat, keeping my neck craned back, returning to the brutal way he’d been abusing my mouth. I groan and sputter and try to cough through all of it, my mouth stuffed full over and over again before I can get a breath in. 

He’s relentless, and then it stops all at once, his cock popping out from between my lips with a wet, lewd sound. A stream of drool follows, a gush that dribbles down onto my already soaked shirt, and I cough violently, my hands flailing to clutch at my chest. 

As soon as the pressure of Joel’s body lifts off of me, I’m scrambling to somewhere, anywhere else, my limbs stiff and achy, my jaw panging with a soreness I’ve never felt before. He stands in front of me, one hand shooting out to grab the collar of my shirt before I can even get fully off the couch, pulling me close.

“Does it look like you’re done showin’ your gratitude yet?” he growls out, gripping the back of my head and forcing me to look down at his cock, still standing at full attention, shiny and dripping with saliva. I swallow hard, the lump painful on the way down. Joel shakes my head for me, the burn at my scalp making me wince. He presses his hips flush with mine, forcing his erection against my thigh before slipping it between them. He leans in close, hot breath ghosting over my face before his lips brush mine.

“You do make a pretty cocksleeve, y’know. Suckin’ cock like a cheap whore, wonder if you take it the same way in your cunt.”

I whimper, shaking my head, the tears non-stop as they roll down my cheeks. “Please… don’t. You don’t have to do this…”

Joel scoffs. “If I put my hand down your pants to that pretty little snatch, tell me I wouldn’t find you wet right now.” He punctuates the words with a sharp pull on my scalp. I cry out, lip quivering, trying to shake my head. “Don’t lie t’me after I’ve been so, so generous t’you today.”

I’m spinning around, a dizzying sensation, Joel’s strong bicep brought across my chest as his other hand delves below my waistline, plunging deep, right to my cotton panties, bypassing the waistband of those, too. Without care, without any sense of boundaries, his fingers explore, slipping through my sensitive slit with ease. I yelp, squirming at the intrusion, and Joel’s deep chuckle behind me confirms what I already knew, what I was beyond confused by.

“Thought so,” he says gruffly, then he cups my entire mound, giving an almost comforting sensation, holding his hand tightly pressed to it. “Nothin’ to be upset about, we’re just havin’ a little fun, payin’ off your debt to dear ol’ Joel, okay?”

I shake my head. “I - I shouldn't be here… it shouldn’t be like this,” I whisper in a cracking voice, hanging my head low as the tears just keep coming, damn them. 

Joel’s fingers start to move slowly, just starting with one, stroking gently up my lips, spreading my slickness around. I’m surprised that it feels good, a pleasant little tingle zipping right to my core that I quickly lament, hating myself for it. “What shouldn’t be like this, hm? That you shouldn’t like my cock down your throat? It’s perfectly natural, doll,” he says, somehow soft and condescending in the same breath.

“A-all of this,” I whimper, “Please, j-just let me go. I w-won’t say anything, I won’t do anything. I just…”

Joel quietly shushes me, letting his finger do the talking for a moment. It drags up to my clit, rubbing tiny, enticing little circles. I bite my lip hard, enough to taste copper, trying to suppress the moan climbing its way up from my chest. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay that it feels good. It’s ‘sposed to. Good little sluts like you don’t know any better, don’t care what it is that’s gettin’ their panties wet. Desperate,” he growls, fingers sliding through the slick mess that’s now drooling onto the cotton. “Just relax, let it happen…” I feel his breath, hot on my ear, before he nibbles, biting down hard on the earlobe, tugging it with his teeth. It bursts out, the whimpering moan I’d been holding back, just as he pinches my clit at the same time as the bite.

He laughs. He has the nerve to laugh and it sends a shiver down my spine, my brain muddled and confused and turned on by the eroticism at play here. He soothes me by nuzzling my neck, taking a long, deep breath in. I squirm as Joel’s hand retreats, and I wonder for just a moment, a brief, all consuming moment, if maybe he’s seen reason. When his fingers find the buttons of my jeans, my heart plummets to depths previously unknown as he unbuttons them, pulling the zipper down slowly, the only sound in the room his harsh breathing right on my neck.

“Please, I gave you what you want already,” I beg once more, feeling it fall on deaf ears as Joel tugs my jeans down, revealing my pink cotton panties. They’re my favorite pair - were my favorite pair - a rare find in a world like this. Pretty pale pink with a nice lacy trim and a little bow at the front. Only now, they’d belong to Joel.

Joel clicks his tongue in approval of the sight, pulling his head back to peer at my underwear from the back before his hand grips my ass, jiggling it roughly. “Oh, you’re jus’not getting it, are you? You feel this?” he asks angrily, letting me feel the hard length of his cock pressed to my ass cheeks, threatening to slip between my thighs. “This means you didn’t give me nearly half of what I want yet. He’s still achin’ for ya, princess.” 

I grit my teeth, hating the pet name, the way he’s using who I am to mock me. It’s a low blow. I hated everything to do with being associated with my father - I knew he wasn’t a good man - and I hated most that it was so obvious to a stranger which echelon of society I belonged to. If I was so important, where were they now, huh? I want to scream those words at him, but instead I just feel my legs tremble underneath me, my knees feeling like jelly as they almost give out on me.

“Please!” I struggle against his hold, but it only makes him grip my ass tighter, hard enough to bruise. “I-I’m a virgin,” I suddenly squeak out, unsure of why I say it other than some last ditch effort to deter him. My heart pounds as he stills, dead silent with his hand grasping my ass like it’s his next meal, like he owns it. 

“Well ain’t it my lucky day. Shit, that’s why you were sputterin’ all over my damn cock, ain’t it?” he says as the epiphany dawns on him, laughing. My cheeks blaze hotter and hotter, hating that I’m even embarrassed at my lack of experience and skills, like I have some sick need to impress him. He notices my tension, my head hanging low as I cry new tears, and says, “Hey, hey, nothin’ to be ashamed for. In fact…” His hand fists in my underwear, tight and unrelenting. I feel his cock press against my ass again, harder than ever before it slips between my thighs. “Makes me awful excited,” he purrs, bringing his mouth to my ear again.

I only give him a timid whimper in reply, squeezing my eyes shut as I realize there is nothing I can do to stop this man. He thinks I’m a cheap whore, and he loves it. I’m a pure virgin, and he loves it even more.

He squeezes me tighter to his chest, my back starting to sweat through my thin tee shirt. “The hell were you savin’ yourself for anyways? Marriage? A sweet pussy like this?” At my silence, he cups my pussy hard, letting the dampness of my underwear soak into his palm. “Answer me!” he barks out.

“I - I wasn’t! I don’t know!” I cry out, trembling.

“Well,” he says, fisting my panties again, starting to pull them down. “M’honored you’d let me be your first, sweetheart,” he drawls, and I nearly scream at the insinuation. I’m not letting him do anything. 

I start to put up more of a fight, useless against his thick arms holding me so tightly. Cool air touches my ass and the space between my thighs as he manages to shimmy my panties further down even in my struggle. I clamp my legs shut in defiance, roaring out a strained grunt as I keep trying to squirm out of his grasp. He huffs in anger, trying to subdue my writhing body before he pushes it towards the couch. I land hard, banging my knee on the hard edge that supports the cushion, wincing and trying to catch my breath. I’m practically in position for him already, ass pressed out towards him, on my hands and knees.

“Gonna make me do things the hard way, are you?” He scowls, his free hand fisting in my hair again, pulling me close.  His breath is hot over my shoulder, the sensation vile against the skin of my cheek, stained with tears. “Been too long since I found a pretty virgin like you. An’ ruinin’ this perfect, pure little cunt is jus’ the cherry on top of a perfect day f’me.” 

I feel his hard cock twitch against me, a reminder of what’s to come. The movements are quick for how bulky Joel’s body is, let alone his age, as he exchanges the hold across my chest for my wrists, bundling them behind my back. I cry out at the strain, the awkward angle he’d twisted them to, fighting him again until a hard smack lands on my ass. I scream through gritted teeth, not giving up the fight, but another thwap! rings out through the apartment, making me falter. My tender flesh screams at me in agony when he lands another spank, even harder this time, then another, until I’m crying unrelenting, fat tears.

With me rendered motionless, Joel presses down, bending me over, my balance tricky with my hands behind my back. My face nearly touches the couch, but I’m precariously held up by the wrists, the strain already making them ache. The warmth dripping between my thighs betrays me as my ass stings in residual little pulses, so raw and sore but spreading a pleasure through me that I’ve never known before. 

I don’t have time to dwell on it before Joel is grasping one hand on my hip, notching himself at my entrance. “Promise you’re gonna like this, that you’ll never be able to think of anyone else’s cock but daddy Joel’s,” he spews gruffly in my ear before he thrusts hard, one swift motion to bury himself inside of me. I scream out, the searing pain between my thighs making me wonder if I’m being split open for good, if it’s possible that some things are just too big to fit in certain places of the body. 

“Fuuuuuuck,” Joel hisses through his teeth, making the tiniest thrusting motions to ensure he’s buried deep. Every movement pierces me with a new sting as my body desperately tries to adjust, to accommodate the horrible, overwhelming intrusion. “You were not kiddin’, sweetheart. Tightest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever been in.”

I sob, unable to speak, unable to move as Joel thrusts brutally from the get go, his hips snapping with force, crashing into mine hard enough to bruise. The lewd sounds we make disgust me, because I know I’m part of those sounds, my body enjoying the filthy things he’s saying, the way he’s taking me without remorse. He pulls himself out, clicking his tongue as he peers down between our bodies. “Christ, you are one sexy little bird. Poor little virgin bleedin’ on daddy’s cock.”

The thought horrifies me, making my stomach turn. “Please,” I cry out, my body rocking with the motions as he starts to fuck me again, the strain on my wrists as Joel uses them to help thrust himself inside of me starting to gnaw deeper into them. I’m like a ragdoll with the way he’s jerking me by my wrists, my body having no choice but to flail in time with the movements so that he can press himself deep on each cruel thrust inwards.

“You want more? You beggin’ already?” Joel grunts between his heavy breaths, sounding so cocky it makes me want to spin around and punch him. I settle for gritting my teeth instead, feeling my body slowly but surely melding into his. When Joel presses me down further, forcing an arch in my back, I whimper when his cock hits something sensitive, deep, primal. Fuck, is it something. 

“Oh, that’s it. We got her now, don’t we?” he says from above, continuing to stroke his cock along that spot repeatedly. I feel myself losing my will to fight, hating the pleasure but feeling myself lean into it slightly, my hips pressing back to meet his nearly against my will. “You ever come before, sweetheart?” He leans in a little closer to ask the question, the pistoning of his hips slowing the slightest bit.

I refuse to answer, tears pooling in my eyes. I don’t want him to take this from me, I don’t want him to know anything about me. He jerks my wrists at the same time he slams his hips into me, and I whimper loudly, feeling the way he’s surely bruising my insides. 

“If you ain’t figured it out yet, the rules are that you answer me when I’m askin’ you a question if you know what’s good for ya,” he spits out, and I shake my head, letting it hang limply.

“Use your words. Say ‘no, daddy’,”  he says with sinister condescension, stroking his own ego.

“N-no… daddy…” I say, my tongue revolting against the words, bile climbing up my throat.

He moves his hand to my head, stroking carefully and softly. “Oh, that’s a shame. That’s a daaaamn shame. All pent up, y’are. But daddy will make it all better.” He sounds deranged, sick, like he truly believes that I’m thankful to him for what he’s doing to me. I can’t answer, my mouth gaping open just as he releases my wrists, letting me fall to the couch with a thud. My open mouth gets a mouthful of the cushions, making me sick over the fact that it’s probably full of god knows what due to its age and whatever things Joel seems to get up to in this apartment of his.

I blink as Joel grips tightly at my hips, wondering why he suddenly trusts my hands to be free, when it happens. He thrusts into that spot again, harsh and unforgiving, and I nearly see stars behind my eyes as the head of his cock punches against things I didn’t even know were there. That’s why. I’m incapacitated at this angle, brutally forced to enjoy the pleasure washing over my body as Joel takes from me, actually giving in return this time.

I bite my tongue hard, not wanting to give him any satisfaction for the tiny moans that are growing louder in my throat, desperate to be let out.

“Let me hear you, princess. Daddy doesn’t do with quiet girls. I can feel you clampin’ down on my cock, know you’re lovin’ how I use you up like you were meant for it.”

I shake my head in protest, but a strangled sound escapes past my tight lips when Joel slams into me harder than he has yet, puffing hard as he fucks me like a greedy animal. He chuckles through heavy breaths, little whispers of that’s it, come on, take it, flow freely from his nasty mouth. 

I feel myself slip away, further gone from reality as the warmth spreads from my pelvis into my belly, coiling tight. Everything tingles, set on fire, the spot where Joel handles my hips with his fat fingers practically burning with a constant mix of pleasure and pain. I cry out when Joel’s cock pulls that feeling out from deep inside of me again, half a sob and half a moan as it crescendos, waves of pleasure crashing over me.

Joel’s grunts of approval, so brutish and debauched, sends a new wave of arousal through me. I tremble, eyes squeezed shut with my body completely out of my control, taken over by this boundless bliss. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before: heavenly warmth worlds above any of the pleasures I’ve known. This had to be what Joel was referring to, urging me towards, telling me he wanted to make me come. This had to be what I was missing out on all these years, hiding myself away. Was this the reason sex was so coveted, so sought after? Was this feeling… the reason he’s doing what he is to me right now?  

It feels like it’s never ending, my body so rigid as it spasms yet pliant as he fucks into me harder and harder. I loathe the noises I’m making that intermingle with his as I squeeze my eyes shut, enjoying it.

“Fuck, fuck - that’s it - f-fuck knew you’d love it. Come on my cock, baby, that’s right.” Joel’s string of praises reach my ears as I come down from my high, limp and yielding to whatever it is he wants to do to me now. I have no fight - my bones turned to jelly, my body sore all over, my throat scratchy from the way he’d assaulted it earlier. I only have it in me to give the rest of myself over, whether I like it or not. 

“S-so fuckin’ tight, lettin’ me take your virginity like a good little whore,” he punches out, pounding into my sensitive cunt like it’s saving his soul, like it’s the only thing he could ever care about. I’m on the precipice of coming again, my nerves still frayed and on edge from the last one. A smaller but still powerful climax takes over, my body shuddering and tight, milking every last second of the pleasure. 

“Gonna blow my load into this pure little pussy, make it mine - fuck - gonna fill you up like the cocksleeve you are. P-probably never want to be without my fuckin’ load drippin’ out of you again. I-I’m close, fuck -” Joel rambles as he ruts his hips deep, one final thrust and a grunt, and I feel him stall, pulsing into me. 

It’s all suddenly very still, an eerie quiet settling over the room. My entire body burns hot, the only thing keeping me from collapsing is Joel’s hands still anchored on my hips as he leaves his cock inside of me, plugging me up. I want to cry again at the sudden, overwhelming shame I feel, but I can’t give him the satisfaction. I can’t.

Joel pats my ass a few times, pulling out. I tremble hard, falling forward onto the couch without his hold, instantly curling in on myself. I resent the way I’d noticed how empty I felt the second he was gone, how cold my body was without his warmth pressed into it. I dare to peer up at the sick man who stands above me, catching his breath, watching just as the last bit of his softening cock gets tucked back into his jeans. He swipes a hand across his forehead, gathering sweat, staring down at me with a darkened expression, grinning cockily.

When he plops down on the couch next to me, picking up the can of beans he’d been eating before, my mouth hangs open in surprise at how casual he’s acting. I watch his face shine with sweat, his breathing still labored, but everything else about his attitude would indicate he didn’t just force himself on me. 

I try to keep my expression neutral for my own safety as I feel something leak out of me, not even wanting to give him the smug satisfaction of having to confirm my suspicions about what it is. I do my best to position my body so he can’t see between my legs as I try to pull my underwear up from where they sit near my knees, my jeans following. Joel only gives me a knowing glance as he takes a bite, conscious of the fact that a part of him sits inside my now soiled underwear, and a part of me now sits inside of his soul. 

He shoves the can my way and I shrink back at his sudden motion, not taking it from him. “Eat. I ain’t havin’ you all weak and despondent for the next time.”

I feel my heart sink down past my ass, my stomach plummeting along with it as nausea overtakes me, a dizzying sensation clouding my vision. He couldn’t have said what I think he did. I - I’d paid my debt, whatever it was he thought I owed him for saving me when I didn’t even ask him to. For saving me and then doing exactly what that man had planned to do anyways under the guise of a caring, noble rescuer.

“N-next time…?” I manage to make my mouth move, my throat to produce a sound, pushing the question out in a voice that doesn’t sound like my own.

“Know you said not to call you stupid but my house, my rules, an’ sweetheart…” He looks at me under his raised, expectant brows. “My stupid, stupid girl. Did you really think that would be enough? That I’d get an opportunity every man dreams of - an untouched, perfect pussy like yours, to keep all for m’self, and throw it all away?” He’s creeping closer as he speaks, shrouding me on the couch with his huge frame, caging in where I lay, my body wound as tightly as it can to itself to block whatever he’s thinking of doing next. “Now you don’t think daddy is that dumb to let you go knowin’ all that, do you?”

I sit stunned silent underneath him, wide eyes fixed in a tortured gaze on his rugged face, but his hand squeezing my thigh is warning enough for me to shake my head, stuttering out an answer. “N-no. No…” I whisper. 

Two approving pats on my cheek send Joel slinking back slightly, his dark, unhinged eyes staring holes into me as they roam over my body. Despite nothing even visible - my chest hidden underneath my arms and legs clamped tightly - I feel violated, objectified. 

Terror rips through my chest as reality settles in slowly but surely. I look at the man I’d trusted once, who’d shown himself to be a friend, or at the least an ally, currently feasting his eyes on me like I’m a product. Which now, I suppose I am. A whore. His whore.

“Now,” he says, licking his lips, that hungry gaze already returning, a bulge appearing in his jeans and stretching the fabric. “All I’ve got to do is decide just how long I’ll keep ya for.”

dividers by @/saradika-graphics!

[innerfare]

Fingering You - Part 1 

Summary: you already know from the title

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid

Genre: pure smut

CW: NSFW // fingering, bondage, mentions of oral sex, penetrative sex, and slight anal, mentions of creampies, dirty talk, Daddy Zoro, Mean Dom Kid

——— 

Luffy: 

The hardest part about fingering you is not going down on you. It’s quite rare that he sticks his fingers between your legs without lapping at your folds mere seconds later. But on the occasions he does simply finger you, it’s to tease you. There’s a part of you that’s always hoping this side of Luffy doesn’t come out, and there’s another part of you that’s always hoping it does, the side that throws you on the bed, ties you up face down, and slides his finger up and down your aching cunt, from clit to ass, telling you how his favorite thing in the world is when you cum but refusing to let you do so, only ever slipping one finger inside you at a time and always pulling it out when you start to clench around him. When Luffy decides to finger you, it’s a long night. 

Zoro: 

Daddy Zoro fingers you for your own good. At least, that’s what he tells you. He’ll never admit that sticking just his pinky finger into your little hole and feeling the tightness around his smallest digit makes his cock throb harder than it ever has before. He’ll never admit it’s the first thing he thinks about in the morning, before even thinking about getting himself off. He’ll definitely never admit that he now gets hard when he eats and gets sauce on his fingers because it reminds him of your desperate princess cunt. He’ll only ever tell you it’s for your own good. How else is his fat cock going to fit inside you? And if his cock is inside of you, his fingers might just wind up in your mouth. Probably his favorite thing about fingering you is the way he can use his fingers to push his bodily fluids, be it spit or semen, inside of you. 

Sanji: 

He’s the absolute best at fingering you, hands down. He’s almost religious in the way he goes about it, too. After all, his hands are precious to him, and so is your pussy. Putting the two together is a spiritual experience as far as he’s concerned. He takes it very seriously, always making sure whatever door the two of you are behind is locked, and taking plenty of time to kiss you like you deserve and worshipping your tits. He can work you to the brink of orgasm just by playing with your nipples, though he’s never content just to do that. The first time he slipped his hand into your panties, he came in his pants, and though he’s managed to build up a resistance since then, there’s still nothing better than sliding his fingers into your cunt and feeling you melt into him, especially considering he can focus solely on your pleasure when he does. 

Ace: 

Fire Fist Ace has one filthy mouth. Everyone knows it. Even for a pirate, he’s notorious. When the Whitebeard Pirates make port, the girls are always gossiping about what the handsome young pirate said to them after a bottle of sake and some heavy kisses. But only you know the true depths of it. He’s always throwing his weight around, pinning you against a wall or down on the mattress, crowing you with those broad shoulders and that big chest, pushing your legs apart and shoving first one, then two long, thick fingers into your tight pussy, his hot lips on your ear the entire time telling you that your pussy is his, that he’s the only one who gets to touch your cute little clit, that when he makes you cum (and he most certainly will), you’re going to get on your knees and thank him properly. And that you do, night after night, the two of you always fucking for the final round (or two). 

Sabo: 

How many times has he slipped his hands under your skirt and gotten you off when there’s someone nearby or within earshot? Neither of you have any idea because it happens so often. He pushes two fingers right into you and thumbs your clit every time, working an orgasm out of you like it’s nothing, biting his lip as he studies the flush that appears on your face and often brushing you off if you try to reciprocate the pleasure. He always grins when you give him that panicked look that says you’re about to cum and you’re worried someone might hear, his favorite part being the way you hang onto him as you do as if he’s going to protect you. The way you cling to him afterwards as you recover from your orgasm only makes it so much better for him. He’ll never stop doing it. 

Law: 

He actually didn’t have a lot of experience when you two first started fooling around, but he his hands were always one area where he felt exceedingly confident. It came naturally to him, rubbing you through your panties until your wetness was soaking through, pushing the fabric to the side to stroke your warm folds, sliding his fingers into your tight hole and promising it’ll be his cock next. It’s like second nature to him, to the point he’ll start doing it without fully realizing. If you sit in his lap, his hands will start creeping up your thighs, and the next thing you know, you’re tossing your head back and holding on for dear life while he fingers you with one hand and squeezes your tits with the other. He gets off to the sense of control it gives him, relishing how he can make you squirm with just a stroke of his thumb and the way you squeal when he jams a finger up your ass. 

Kid: 

Honestly, you need to stop whining. He’s doing you a favor. Yes, somebody might see you completely naked and exposed (he’s still completely clothed, of course) on the deck of the Victoria Punk in broad daylight. And yeah, it’s embarrassing how wet you are, so embarrassing he doesn’t even stop you from hiding your face. But he’s doing you a favor by stuffing his thick fingers in your cunt, stretching you like a cock (a regular sized cock, at least, not a Eustass Kid sized one). He doesn’t even touch your clit until you’re on the brink, and then he thumbs it mercilessly. And don’t think for a second your mean dom boyfriend won’t laugh at you when he pulls his fingers out and finds them coated in your cream, telling you that if you’re that desperate you should follow him back to his cabin to get fucked properly. You don’t hesitate to do it, trailing after him like a puppy. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[reshinless]

hi!!! i hope ur doing well>< can u do kinich with a shy s/o but get reaaally freaky in bed?

art creds: @ sumi_noth on x

warnings: p in v sex, anal penetration, afab!reader (no specified gender), consent king kinich, freaky ass reader, handcuff usage, blindfold usage, dirty talk kind of, but mostly praise, oral(?, eating you out),

he didn't expect your interests to be... different from your actions, or at least in public. your shy grasps on his arm if ever you were anxious, or the habit of standing in front of you to intimidate

or the flushed expression that danced across your cheeks when he complimented you. it could be the arm that grasped your waist when he knew you were uncomfortable.

well, whatever it was, it was cute in its own way.

but looking at you and comparing to then—are you really the same person...? maybe you have a secret twin!

"n- nngh! kin— pleasef- I wan' it s'bad!" you whined, feeling him strike your insides for the umpteenth time. he really didn't mind but he could see how shaky your legs were.

"y'sure? you're trembling, baby." "mmn, need more, please?"

he simply tilted his head, you looked tired. he doesn't care too much about himself since his stamina sustains for very long. but yours didn't.

he swore this little thing of yours lasted a week each month. always telling him how bad you needed him with those pleading eyes. he couldn't say no, that'd be mean!

"whatever you want, sweetheart."

he'd give you the world if possible, but he cares for your safety, so he does end up not going through with your feralness in bed. no matter how cute your whining and begging might be- he doesn't want to take advantage of the fact that you want all of him more than just seven rounds.

one time you asked him to cuff you to the bed, and he asked more than just five times. you.. want him to use his elemental skill to tie you to the bed post? is that really safe?

well, he wouldn't complain too much, pulling on the vine line like a leash if he just decided on cuffing them behind you, or grasping your hair while you take him from behind.

as long as you're okay with it ('till he notices you're visibly tired). he learns to know your limits as well, no more how freaky you are. cause he isn't with you for the sake of sex, but for you yourself.

these moments with you were just a bonus. and in which he very much treasured. oh well, back to the blurb of him slamming you from behind.

he likes positions where he sees your face better. the one he usually sees hiding in the strands of your hair, or in the softness of your palms. he promises he doesn't have a corruption kink or whatever but damn he loved the way your expression would distort to something so naughty. fuck, he needed this as much as you did.

the sounds he long sought after for back when you both weren't even together yet, he didn't want to admit- but he did fantasize this. how the lewd mewls would spill like a river from the beauty and softness of your mouth.

he couldn't help but groan right into the shell of your ear. instinctively his mouth moves, to praise you of course.

"doin' s'fuckin well for me sweetheart, just keep taking me in like that yeah?"

you could feel yourself clench at the very end of his sentence. fuck you didn't know praise could feel this good, his movements matched with the quick, lusty grunts he let out.

even when he placed the blindfold onto your pretty head. he missed your pretty eyes, the way they'd look at him with a pleading look. he could barely see how your eyebrows furrowed.

that's alright, he liked how you seemed so vulnerable, not knowing where to place your hands, and you can't predict what he'd do, or where his touch would land next (which was your entrance)

placing his lips onto the soft folds, licking you up and down with tease. hearing you moan and sob, asking him to stop edging and get to the point, but he doesn't really like when you're being a little bratty.

"take what i give you, or i'll leave you like this, 'kay?"

and you couldn't do anything but nod. his cold words sent shivers down your spine, combined with the kitty licks to your clit, the coldness of his ungloved palms that spread your legs apart, squeezing them every now and then.

really loves the way you taste though, loves how addicting it can get. you're the only drug he'd ever take.

once he's done "punishing" you, he goes right back to being the sloppy eater he is. his mouth basically attached itself to your soppy entrance.

doesn't matter if you're cumming or not—he laps everything up like a homeless man who's got food for the first time in forever.

he doesn't know what it is- maybe it's the scent, or is it truly the taste? maybe it could be the way it looks? or maybe how it feels? he doesn't get why he wants your essence so bad, but whatever magic it has he hopes it'll last him lifetimes (or at least last you a good orgasm)

overall is just "whatever you want, my love" and makes sure you get the best out of it! :)

[fastandcarlos]

What Baby Wants, Baby Gets : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: he might try and guilt you for making him go out in the early hours to satisfy your cravings, but you won't let him win

You couldn’t help but smile as Max groaned beside you, his arms stretching up before his hands ran over his face, head tilting to his left so that he could glance across and take a look at you. 

“Morning,” you whispered, resting your head down against his shoulder. “Did you have a good sleep?” You then asked, sniggering as Max scoffed, his head immediately shaking across at you. 

In the early hours you found yourself struggling, unable to push the thoughts of your cravings to the back of your mind. For a while Max managed to ignore it, but eventually he made the mistake of asking if you wanted something, only for you to tell him yes. 

It felt like a figure of speech when you first fell pregnant, with Max telling you to get him if you needed something, wherever, whenever. But he didn’t quite imagine himself actually being woken up at two in the morning with you begging him to help you out. 

“Last night was a one-time thing,” Max told you, covering his mouth as he let go of a yawn. “Do you know how long it took for me to fall back to sleep? Especially with you snoring right beside me.” 

An apology came from you, but so did a chuckle as Max glared down at you. As soon as your craving what satisfied, you found yourself easily able to fall asleep, not worrying about Max and the fact that he was now the restless one tucked up beside you. 

Although he teased, he was relieved to see you resting though, knowing just how little sleep you were getting with your baby constantly reminding you that he was there. 

“I do appreciate what you did last night,” you whispered, brushing your hand gently through Max’s hair. “You didn’t have to get up and run to the store.” 

“I did, because I promised that I would always do whatever I could to help you,” Max reminded you, kissing against the top of your head, “and what baby wants, baby gets.” 

Your head nodded as Max trailed one of his hands down to rest against the top of your baby bump, his smile wide as he felt just how big it was again, knowing that you were already nearing the halfway mark. 

“I know for a fact that this little one appreciates what you do too, they were feeling particularly peckish last night,” you added, pressing a kiss to Max’s shoulder. 

His eyes rolled as once again you used the baby to get to him, knowing that if there was one person that he couldn’t say no to, it was definitely your baby. 

“I can’t wait for when the baby arrives so I can tell you to go and get your own food again,” Max joked, “you won’t be able to treat me like your slave anymore.” 

“You’re so dramatic, don’t pretend you don’t enjoy all of this.” 

It wasn’t exactly his favourite thing to do getting up in the early hours of the morning, but knowing that he was helping you out did fill Max with pride. 

“Maybe I’d enjoy it more if you asked at a decent time,” he laughed in response. 

“I don’t think I get much of a choice, if you’ve got a problem, bring it up with your child instead,” you smiled, tapping against your baby bump. 

Max’s eyes watched over you carefully as you moved closer into his side, moving one of your hands to rest against the small of your back. A groan came from you as you tried to get comfortable again, a game that you had been playing with your child for several weeks now. 

“Do you think the baby knows the most inconvenient times are to be annoying to us?” You asked Max, hearing a chuckle come from him. “Why can’t they be restless at lunch? That would be perfect.” 

“I don’t think they’re smart enough to tell the time yet,” Max sniggered, squeezing around your frame. “It’s going to get easier, hopefully the cravings will stop soon.” 

Your head nodded as Max tried his best to reassure you. Whenever you were struggling, he was right there with you, somehow Max always knew the right thing to say to make you feel better, making sure to hold onto you too to let you know that he was there. 

“It’s going to be alright,” Max whispered closely to your ear, “whatever comes our way then we’re just going to take it on together and find a way to figure things out.” 

You hummed as Max spoke, a lot more doubtful than he was. If he could, Max would read just about every baby book, watch every documentary, absorb as much knowledge as he possibly could to make sure he knew exactly what to do in every possible situation. 

“If it’s not morning sickness it’s cravings, and then once that finishes then it’s going to be the lack of sleep, soon enough I’m not even going to be able to see my feet.” 

Before you could continue, Max quickly shushed you. “And I’ll be there to help you with all of that, no matter where we are or when it is.” 

“I thought you didn’t like the early hours?” 

Max jabbed against your side as you teased him, knowing that regardless of the time he would always be there. It hurt him a lot seeing you so uncomfortable so often, he wished that there was more that he could do to make your life easier than it currently was. 

“If I were you, I’d make the most of me running around after you,” Max grinned, “because once the baby is here, they’ll be the only person I’ll be waking up at three o’clock in the morning for.” 

“You mean to say you’d leave me to fend for myself?” 

“Absolutely,” Max jokingly smiled, “you’re capable of getting up and sorting yourself out, a little baby isn’t quite as developed as you are.” 

“I’m spending nine months growing this child of yours, just in case you’ve forgotten that,” you quickly reminded him. 

“I know, I’m just messing with you,” Max assured, squeezing your frame. “I might have to cut myself in half so one part of me can look after you and the other look after the baby, that way I might just be able to be in two places at once.” 

“I’ll be alright,” you whispered, only for Max’s head to shake, refusing to let you take care of yourself straight away once the baby arrived. 

It didn’t matter whether you were pregnant or not, injured or in peak condition, Max loved looking after you and would always do so, regardless of how much you sometimes protested against him. 

Now more than ever he was glued to your side, he’d tease you and mess with you but he wouldn’t have it any other way, being able to help you was one of the things he enjoyed the most at the moment. 

“I can’t wait to see how things play out over the next few months, how big of a change is about to take place in our lives,” Max mused, resting his head on top of yours. 

“I’m terrified,” you admitted, “no one can predict how this is going to play out, there’s a fear of the unknown lingering in the back of my mind right now.” 

“You don’t need to worry,” Max assured you, “no matter what happens, we’re going to face it together, I’m going to be right here with you.” 

“Even in the early hours of the morning?” 

“Even in the early hours my love.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[jji-lee]

nerd jisung first time getting head

(MDNI)

nerd jisung x hot girl reader ofc , library head , whiny ji , loud ji , squirmy ji , sensitive ji , virgin ji , jisung's first time getting head , reader is more experienced , shy ji , snowballing haha guys hear me out , he immediately nuts. , reader is understanding , he’s wearing those thick framed glasses , big brained anon idea !

“are- are you sure about this?”

you slipped your hand under his shirt a small giggle escaping your lips,

“why not ji? don’t tell me you’re backing out now?”

He squirmed under your touch, eyes peeking through the bookshelves of the library,

“n-no of course not, just- just what if we get caught?”

He whined softly as you planted a wet kiss on his cheek, his knees buckling gently

“Then you’re just gonna have to be quiet, right ji?”

clearly it seemed like jisung couldn't follow simple instructions, whining at every touch.

"jisung please lower your voice."

"fuck- feels good, 'm sorry."

you smiled into his neck, tongue poking out to trace his tense muscles, his grip on your hips deadly.

"please, too much, gonna cum."

your hand slipped past the waistband of his sweats, reaching in to hold onto his hot length. he let out a gasp, reaching for your hand to stop you,

"already ji? we haven't even gotten to the best part."

you giggled as he bit his lip, hiding the whine that threatened to slip out as you got on your knees in front of him, hands pulling down his sweats just enough to release his length. he was huge, length slapping against his stomach as you released him the his confines,

“you’ve been hiding this all this time?”

he pushed up his glasses as he looked down at you letting out a huff as you grabbed his length, the sight of your small hand wrapped around him making his stomach clench. jisung knew he wouldn’t last long, he hid his face behind the sleeve of his oversized hoodie watching you give kitten licks to his leaking tip.

“‘m not gonna last, please.”

his muffed voice was whiny, a smirk growing on your face as you planted a kiss to his tip,

“please what ji? what do you want me to do?”

he sighed as you removed your hands from him, placing them neatly on your lap as you waited for his next move. he moved his sleeve away from his face revealing his flushed cheeks, lips swollen from biting them.

you watched the definition of his veins as he rolled up his sleeves, hand coming forward to cup your face. he ran his thumb against your plump lips. you looked up at him innocently as you parted your lips, his thumb now grazing your teeth.

“stick your tongue out.”

you were quick to comply, core growing impossibly wetter as he removed his thumb from your mouth, instead using his index and middle finger to rub your tongue. he pushed them towards the back of your mouth, groaning as you swallowed around the tips of his fingers.

“fuck you’re dirty.”

he wiped at the slight fog that had built up in his glasses from all his heavy breathing wanting to get a better look as he dragged his fingers against your tongue, pulling them out of your mouth. his shaky hand gripped his length as he pressed his leaking tip against your parted lips. you waited patiently as he tapped his length against your mouth, stopping to rub his precum on your lips.

his face was priceless, eyebrows knit together tightly, lips parted into a silent moan. you backed away from his length,

“baby, you can fuck my mouth, i won’t bite, unless you want.”

you chuckled softly as he shook his head, releasing his length so you can take over, moving his hands to grip the roots of your hair instead. you held him tightly, opening your mouth wide to fit him all.

you took as much of him as you could into your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat as you swallowed around him, lips wrapped tightly around his length.

maybe it was your fault for being impatient, or maybe you teased him too much from the start. you clenched your eyes tightly as you felt his warm cum spurt into your mouth. a whiny moan leaving jisung’s mouth as he hunched over, grip on your hair tightening.

“oh my- oh my god. y/n i’m so sorry. i’m so- oh my god.”

the feeling of his orgasm was quick to fade, embarrassment taking over immediately. he dropped down to his knees, now eye level with you as he leaned into kiss you roughly, warm hands cupping your face. he ignored the salty taste of himself on your mouth, kissing you deeply before planting light pecks all over your face,

“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry please, please don’t be mad, i should’ve said something-”

you giggled as he continued to kiss your face, his pants still around his thighs as he kneeled in front of you,

“sto-stop, okay okay! jisung it’s okay please, i’m not mad!”

he backed away from you, his glasses on the tip of his nose, revealing his soft eyes,

“you’re not mad?”

you shook your head, hands coming to fix his glasses.

“of course not ji-”

you smirked up at him,

“buttt, if you’re really sorry i have a couple ideas on how you could make it up to me.”

you looked down to see jisung’s length twitch slightly, a nervous cough coming from his lips,

“i-i think that’s a good idea, but maybe we should find another place.”

he lifted a nervous finger pointing past the bookshelves, you turned your head, eyes meeting the look of an annoyed studying student.

yeah maybe it’s best to take this somewhere else.

[gay-dorito-dust]

How about batboys reacting to seeing their lover’s nip piercings through their shirt? like that’s the first time they’ve seen them? (i’m getting mine done soon i’m hyped)

Nipple piercings are so fucking cool dude! Funny enough I have a friend who’s got their nips pierced, all I know it’s a sensitive spot to get pierced but they look really cool. Also I now got snakebites…eating will be a little different but I’ll be okay.

Dick is fighting for his life, gnawing at the bars of his enclosure the moment he got a little peak of your nipple piercings.

He’s trying not to groan aloud at all because nipple piercings are his weakness and of course you have to go get them and turn him with them. They look beautiful, stunning, gorgeous on you even that he can’t help but take sneak peaks now and then at your tits, hoping to catch a glimpse of the metal piercing through your shirt.

He loves your piercings, they’re his favourite things to look at in all honesty and he’ll look at them all day if he could.

‘Looking good babe!’ He’d say upon first seeing them and you couldn’t help but smile, knowing damn well that the moment you got them done that Dick would be all over you like a rash.

‘Thank you sweetie, nice to know you noticed I got them done in the first place.’ You said with a chuckle as you gestured towards your chest and feeling his eyes there immediately it was humorous.

‘I notice everything babe and I must say they’re looking gorgeous.’ Dick replied as he gazes at the metal bars through your shirt with adoration, fascination and a little bit of lust. ‘Need me to give them some aftercare?’ He adds wiggling his eyebrows playfully as you laugh. ‘As much as I would love that but these puppies are fresh and I’ve been given strict rules to follow if I want them to heal correctly.’ You tell him and see his shoulders defeat and a pout crosses his lips, he was so dramatic that even your own nipple piercings weren’t safe.

‘Fine, I’ll wait until they get better and then I’ll give them some tender loving care of my own.’ Dick promises and you didn’t doubt that for a single second, after all nipple piercings were a little weakness of his.

Tim is looking away immediately, he didn’t mean to look at all and felt as though he’s overstepping some boundaries by looking and that’s not what he wants to do.

He’ll twiddle his thumbs or play with his phone so that he doesn’t accidentally look directly at your nipple piercings through your shirt and you catch him doing so by pure coincidence. Tim seriously think he might faint if he saw pierced nipples as it was an sensitive part of your body as well as an intimate area to have done, though that doesn’t mean he won’t compliment your piercing sheepishly.

‘They look wonderful honey.’ He’d say with a flustered expression, the imagine of your pierced nipples now engraved in that photographic mind of his, which was a blessing and a curse. Poor boy just wanted to say you have nice piercings without coming across as weird or creepy for staring there at the first place, regardless of whether he was your partner or not.

‘You can look Tim, I really don’t mind.’ You tell him as you watch him internally struggle with himself and decided to end the conflict for him instead, not wanting to see him so worried like he was right now as he gripped his phone so tight you fear he’d break it.

Tim peaks at the corner of his eye to look at your piercings through your shit and he swallows thickly, a piercing shouldn’t have this much affect over him but here he was finding a simple piercing pretty and enticing. It suited you that was for certain and Tim couldn’t help but admire the way they looked beneath your shirt, it was almost like a little tease of what was there and it would be enough to send anyone mad with want.

However Tim only looked at them and admired your ability to go through with it and getting them pierced, even despite the knowledge that they’ll hurt you went through with it anyway and came out with something, ‘beautiful, they look beautiful.’

Jason may look like he’ll stare at your nipple piercings but is actually trying his hardest to not looks at them unless you want him to.

‘Jason! I got my nipples pierced! Look!’ You’d exclaim, lifting your shirt to show him the metal bars that pierced through your now erect nipples with shining pride.

‘You look gorgeous sweetheart.’ Jason would say truthfully as he gazed upon your piercings, before his mind wondered to the pain you endured to get them pierced, seeing as how nipples were notorious sensitive and piercing them only seemed to make Jason wince internally. ‘But that must’ve killed to get done chipmunk.’ He adds and you only smiled as you dropped your shirt, making sure it didn’t catch your piercings and shrug.

‘I mean yeah it did but they look came out looking fantastic don’t you think jay bird?’ You asked as you gestured towards your piercings. Jason swallowed thickly as he was quick to agree with your statement, not wanting to show just how affected he was by your pretty piercings. ‘There’s no doubt about that sweetheart, none at all.’ He says as you walked over and held his face, fingers trailing towards his pulse point that was beating faster than usual, and giggling softly.

‘It’s okay for you to look, look all you want I really don’t mind because at least someone other than myself is going to admire them and who better than my handsome partner.’ You teased as you kissed his lip before pulling away.

‘Sweetheart you’re going to kill me one of these days.’ Jason groaned as he pulled you in close while being careful with your piercings, having read somewhere that torso related piercings can take up to six moths recovering, with nipple related piercings needing a maximum of a month in fresh nursing pads. He just wants your piercings to heal without any problems or worries and so he’ll put aside his desire to get closely acquainted with them.

You smiled as you kissed his cheek. ‘But you love me for it.’

[faithshouseofchaos]

So you're looking for franquito requests? I have too many ideas, like it's insane. The things this man does to me I swear 🥰🥰🥰

Well, maybe you could do something like Argentinian non famous reader (not necessarily Argentinian but u know) dating him and nobody knows about her, till one day they both went tired of people assuming he's single n PUM, hard launch. I don't know if I explained this correctly, English isn't my first language so I'm sorry bby 🥺

💛🇦🇷

Hard launch — Franco colapinto x fem!reader

Faceclaim — none I left it pretty inclusive for everyone Warnings— none

Fluff

Word count—

Summary— no one knew Franco was dating anyone until he was photographed at a party kissing his girlfriend.

Franco posted to his instagram

Caption— Fue un fin de semana difícil que terminó en abandono, pero tengo ganas de correr en Las Vegas (it was a tough a weekend that ended in a dnf but i'm looking forward to racing in Vegas)

Liked by — Lewishamilton, Lando_Norriss yourusername, and 292 others

Comments

User1– not Franco making goggly eyes at Lando during the drivers parade

User2– you’ll get them next weekend Franco

User3– Franco try not to flirt with everyone challenge failed

User4– I’m surprised that Franco is still single man’s flirts with everyone

Your username— I think you did well today Franco

Liked by Franco

User5– we all saw that right?

User6– oh we saw alright

Y/n posted to her story (private instagram)

Caption— chico somnoliento 💤😴 (sleepy boy)

Comments off

Seen by … Franco_colapinto43 and yourBFF

Yourprivinstagram

Caption— adivina de quién es la casa (guess who’s home)

Liked by Franco_colapinto43, yourBFF

Comments limited—

yourBFF— who’s that funny looking man on my wife’s instagram account.

Franco_Colapinto43– last time I checked I was her boyfriend 🤨

yourBFF— for now 😁

Franco_Colapinto43– what’s that supposed to mean???

————————————————————————

The party was alive with chatter, music, and the occasional burst of laughter. People milled about, drink in hand, dancing in the dim light as the night carried on. Franco was standing by the bar, joking with a group of friends, when his eyes caught yours across the room. You were leaning against a wall, watching the crowd with a slight smile, your arms casually crossed. You always did prefer standing back and observing, letting the noise of others fade into the background.

Franco’s grin widened, and without a second thought, he excused himself from the conversation and made his way toward you. He didn’t care that people might be watching. He had long since stopped caring about the whispers, the questions, the rumors. It was just you two now, and that was enough.

“Hey,” he greeted, slipping an arm around your shoulders as he leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. “You having fun?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, playful as ever. “You know me, I’m just here to make sure you don’t embarrass yourself.”

He laughed, the sound low and easy. “Oh, trust me, it’s too late for that.” He pulled you a little closer, your bodies pressed together in the cozy little corner of the room. You rolled your eyes but didn’t pull away, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.

The laughter around you seemed to fade, the chatter becoming a blur, and it was like the two of you were in your own world for a moment. Franco’s thumb traced the outline of your arm before he pulled back slightly, his mischievous smile never leaving his face.

“What if we stopped letting everyone assume I’m single?” he asked casually, his eyes glinting with that familiar spark.

You didn’t have to think about it—this had been brewing for weeks, maybe even months. You’d both gotten tired of the secrecy, of the constant guessing. You didn’t care about the opinions of strangers anymore, not when it came to him.

“I think it’s time,” you said, your voice light but resolute.

And then, with an ease that could only come from the comfort of being with someone who knew you better than anyone else, Franco leaned in, his lips catching yours in a quick, almost careless kiss.

For a moment, time seemed to stop. The room fell silent, people frozen in place. But you didn’t care. You were too busy focusing on the way his lips lingered just long enough to make it clear.

As you pulled away, your hearts still beating in sync, the sound of murmurs around you slowly started up again. Whispers rippled through the crowd, but neither of you looked around. You didn’t need to.

Franco grinned and shrugged, pulling you close again. “Guess we’re not hiding anymore,” he said with a teasing smile, as if nothing had just happened. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Guess not.”

——————————————

F1.Gossip has posted

Caption— f1 driver Franco Colapinto caught kissing an unidentified woman while at a party.

Liked by— yourBFF, and 19289 others

Comments

User7– WAIT WHAT?!?!

User8– who is she?

User9– con—😭😭—grad—😭😭—ulations—😭😭

User10– I new there was no way he was single

Franco_Colapinto43–has posted

Caption— Bueno, gatos fuera de la balsa, feliz Segundo aniversario, mi amor. (well cats out of the bag happy 2 year anniversary my love)

liked by — lando_norris, Yourusername, yourBFF and 1028 others

[misserabella]

bloody and needy

just thinking about spencer being the kind of MAN that doesn’t care about blood. you want period sex? you’ve got it. that’s it. that’s the prompt.

cw: +18, minors dni!, period sex, blood duh, spencer being a service king, praising, lots of pet names and dirty talk, breeding kink, overstimulation, creampie, allusion to a second round…

it’s all a blur. you don’t exactly remember how or when spencer took off your clothes, but you’re laying completely naked over a couple of towels on your shared bed as his large fingers pump into your squeezing cunt.

“fuck.” and you’re moaning, cause it feels so fucking good you want to cry. it’s been over a week since you two have had sex, since he’d been away for a case, and just when he was finally coming back home and you hoped you’d finally get some release, that time of the month tagged along. so there you were, horny, desperate, and bleeding. but your boyfriend doesn’t care about blood. ‘it’s natural.’ he’s told you before. ‘tell me what you need and i’ll give it to you.’

so here you were now, legs spread as he adds another finger, your own in his hair tugging at the feeling of him stretching you so nicely… spencer kissed and sucked at your neck, his cock throbbing at the sweet sounds you’re making and the squelches that come from your cunt as he pumps in and out.

“spencer…”

“god baby, you’re so pretty like this…” he muttered, needy to be inside but waiting for you to give him the go ahead. his hand is a mess of crimson but he pays no mind to it.

“need you.” you breathe out, your back arching as his lips latched to your nipples.

“yeah? you need me?” he lapped at one of them and you nodded, whimpering. “should i take my fingers out then?” you nodded once again, but still whined at the loss of pleasure. “i know, i know baby. so needy for me.” he was quick to make work of his clothes, throwing them aside with your own and positioning himself in between your legs.

your hips and legs trembled when the tip of his cock teased you, and his tongue wetted his lips at the sight of the face you made when it bumped against your clit. “so sensitive huh?” he smiled and you nodded, eyes hazy.

“feels so good…”

“im gonna make you feel better, angel.” he said as he pushed inside with one single thrust, what made you scream. “fuck. you’re so warm…” he gritted his teeth as he started to move, leaving kisses on your neck. “so wet for me. you feel like heaven, love. so good for me.” he praised as he fucked into you, your legs surrounding his hips and your nails digging on his back. “you needed this, hm? baby? you needed me to fuck you, huh? my poor pretty girl. i’ve always told you that you just need to ask and i’ll give you anything.” your cheeks blushed, and you whined. “see what being a good girl and speaking up gets you, baby?” he pecked your lips and you moaned at a partially harsher thrust. “like that?”

“harder.” you desperately asked and he complied, fucking into you at the same speed yet harsher. you couldn’t stop the moans and whimpers falling from your lips. “spence…”

“i know angel, you’re so sensitive, doing so good for me…” one of his hands found your clit, circling it. “you can cum, pretty girl.” you moaned, your back arching. it was almost too much, until the overstimulation faded and you were grinding against his touch and cock in a daze. “jesus. if you could see yourself right now baby, so fucking hot… gonna make me cum so hard…” you whimpered at the thought. “yeah? you want me to cum for you baby?” you nodded. “where?”

“inside. cum inside please.” you babbled, your whole body tensing at the approaching of your orgasm. spencer groaned.

“you want me to fill this pretty pussy? make a mess out of it?” you cried and hiccuped in answer, muttering a ‘yes’ that almost made him bust in the spot. “want me to get you round and pretty for me?”

“yes! please, spencer, please…!” you begged and he moaned.

“i’m gonna cum baby, gonna fill you up so much it’ll be dripping out of you for a week.” that made you unravel, the tight band in you stomach snapping as you screamed in release, moaning his name over and over. “fuck, angel, fuck.” he groaned as he felt you clench, and after three stuttering thrusts, he spilled everything inside of you, kissing you sloppily as he fucked the two of you through it.

after the two of you came down, he caressed your cheek. “you okay, baby?”

“more than okay.” you smiled, and he couldn’t help but do the same.

“i’m gonna go find something to clean us up, okay?”

yoy looked down to find his thighs and v line along with his lower stomach stained in your blood. it only made you throb and him hiss.

“or maybe not.” he replied as he felt you starting to rock your hips against his already hardening cock.

“maybe not.”

-

❤️🩸i’m on my period, SO WHAT

[lovelytsunoda]

who is that diva? | liam lawson

summary: the internet is set ablaze after a race car driver and a bookstagrammer are caught in a heated battle fro the last lego set on black friday. is this a lawsuit waiting to happen or a meet-cute worthy of its own book?

pairing: liam lawson x bookstagrammer!reader

warnings: implications of a physical fight, they're both a lil' unhinged

chamomilekissedpages just posted to her story!

chamomilekissedpages just posted to her story!

chamomilekissedpages just posted!

liked by liamlawson, yourbestie and 1,000 others

chamomilekissedpages november so far!

see all comments

user now i know thats not a picture of the man she stomped on to get her lego set-

-> user RIGHT?? as soon as it came out that he was famous i expected a lawsuit ngl

yourbestie i had such a great time with you guys last night! if you ask me, he's a total keeper <3

user girl i love those shoes!

-> chamomilekissedpages i don't gatekeep! just dm'd you a link to my guy, he'll give you a good price :)

liamlawson you still owe me a lego set. just so everybody is aware.

-> chamomilekissedpages you and what army?

-> yukitsunoda this one!!!!

-> oscarpiastri yeah!

liamlawson and chamomilekissedpages just posted!

liked by oscapiastri, yukitsunoda and 3,476 others

liamlawson i didn't get the lego set, but i did win the heart of someone who won't share her toys with me

see all comments

oscarpiastri i wondered how long it would take him to break

-> liamlawson fuck offffff

-> chamomilekissedpages guys come on, he made it three weeks!

user of all the ways i expected legogate to end, this was not it!

chamomilekissedpages would buying you a lego formula e car make things better?

-> liamlawson oh my god baby is it too soon to say that i'm head over heels in love with you?

yourbestie congratulations to you both! your 'most insufferable couple of the season' award is in the mail

-> chamomilekissedpages you call us insufferable but we know you love us

-> yourbestie damn fucking right i do

-> liamlawson careful the fia might fine me for having cuss words in my comment section

-> chamomilekissedpages he says as if he didnt just tell oscar to fuck right off

Interview with Liam Lawson in the Las Vegas GP Paddock!

BONUS: TEXTS BETWEEN LIAM AND Y/N

[alchemistc]

He's drunk when he sends it. Pissed because Buck won't just let this die. Tired of seeing his name flash across his screen, texts full of anger and sadness and hurt.

I suspect you've already met your last and it's not me he sends, and then turns off his phone and reaches for the bottle of whiskey on his top shelf.

---

If he'd been sober he would have known better. It's not even like it's been a pervasive thought - just an inkling at the start of things that seemed to be completely off base once he got to know everyone better, but looking back... He can see it. The built in life. The steadfast support. The knowledge that they'd always, always have each other's back. The kid who hero worshipped him.

The thing is he's fielding texts from Eddie, too, checking in and then circling around to being so goddamn judgmental that it's like they've coordinated their attacks to give Tommy no room to breathe.

He ended it to save himself from slipping so far under the surface he wouldn't make it back.

The fact that he's lost them both to his own fear is icing on the cake for the demon on his shoulder that keeps trying to remind him that once upon a time he'd fully thought Eddie and Buck were amicable exes.

---

He has to blink to figure out who's standing on his doorstep. The mustache is gone.

"If you meant who I think you mean, you're dumber than you look," Eddie says, and shoulders past Tommy before Tommy can even muster an affronted expression.

Tommy wanders after Eddie into his own kitchen, immediately annoyed that he looks more at home there than Tommy has felt in weeks. He'd gotten used to the loft - the space, the echoes, the lights of the city. The smell of his own aftershave on Buck's pillow.

They never spent much time here. The loft was closer - to Harbor, to the 118, to all the things in the city that tempted them out for a night. And staying at the loft meant he wouldn't have the echoes of Buck in every room, around every corner. (The echoes are in him, instead, and he still feels the absence like a lanced wound.) Tommy has always been good at making other people think he's good at putting distance between himself and them.

Eddie digs in a drawer, pulls out the bottle opener shaped like a cow and pops two tops. Holds one out for Tommy and scowls when Tommy wrinkles his nose at the Corona.

"Absolutely screw you if you think I'm driving halfway across town for you just to get the ones you like, right now."

Tommy can't argue that. He takes a drag and swallows. Stares. Is everyone else experiencing whiplash seeing him without the mustache? It looks fine but it'd taken so much fucking work to get used to it and now it's just gone. Clean shaven, an acre of skin he hasn't seen in months.

Tommy blinked and the entire world was different. Tommy freaked and the world changed.

"What are you doing here?"

Eddie's eyebrows both lift, a frank Are You Fucking Serious look on his face that makes Tommy want to take him to the mats and have it out in the garage instead of over beers.

"Buck may be spinning his wheels trying to figure out what the fuck you meant but I know damn well what you were implying."

That seems unlikely. Eddie always seems to be the last person to have a single clue what was going on, with Buck scraping in just before him. It's a tight race.

He used to find it charming.

(He absolutely does not still find it charming, he tells his heart, and wonders if he could hire some tiny asshole gnome to go stomp around in an atrium or two and get it to stop doing what it's doing. Fucking traitor.)

"Do you actually believe that, or is it some dumb excuse because you're terrified of being happy?"

Oh, that's fucking rich.

Tommy opens his mouth to tell him exactly that but Eddie just steamrolls right by him. "You don't have to point out the hypocrisy, jackass. I'm well aware of my own issues. Thing is - you're like, almost right. Buck does make me happy. Next to Chris there's no one else in the world I'd rather have by my side, rain or shine, good or bad. I love him. He's my person."

Tommy rolls his jaw. It's not a vindication to hear it.

"Except I'm not gay, Tommy. And I don't want that. I never have. And neither does Buck, just in case that argument was about to hit the airwaves."

"How do you know?"

Something sparks in the back of Eddie's eyes. Understanding. Triumph.

"You want an itemized list or a demonstration?"

Which is when Tommy knows he's stepped into an absolute minefield. No markers. Just free balling his way through a conversation that could explode with even the slightest pressure.

Eddie's got his phone out.

None of this is ideal.

When he looks up, his eyes land squarely on Tommy, who would like in this moment to be able to curl so far in on himself he gets sucked clean through the other side. "First of all, Buck may have just been improvising his entire journey of sexuality but for once I was trying to get ahead of the curve so that whole starry-eyed newly not straight vision you have of Buck is bullshit. You let him pull you along by the shirt strings for months without pressing pause and then you freak out when he thinks his speed and your speed are the same speed?"

This is feeling a whole lot like an ambush, now.

"Did you ever even try to slow him down?"

Tommy has some choice words that aren't remotely appropriate to say to someone who is at least tangentially still his friend, so he takes another swig of shitty beer. God, this shit is awful.

"You wanna know how I know I'm not his one? How I know he's not mine?"

Tommy really, really doesn't. Honestly he'd like to kick him out.

"Because he went at our friendship at the same warp speed pace he took your relationship and it never fucking scared me."

Proof in the pudding, for Tommy. He's not the sort of jackass who actually thinks he can make a different judgement call on someone else's sexuality than the one they've made themselves, but come on.

"Shannon's been dead for half a decade," Eddie says, voice dropping so suddenly Tommy feels it like an icy draft. "And maybe one day I'll make my peace with that. Maybe one day I'll get out from under it. The point is I've lost them both and the loss wasn't the goddamn same."

"Buck came back," Tommy argues.

Eddie scoffs. Wrinkles his nose. "Jeez, he wasn't kidding about how weird that sounds." His phone buzzes on the countertop, and Tommy wonders what the hell that look on his face means. "Don't change the subject. I'm not here to talk you into anything. I'm just here to drink a beer with you and tell you how goddamn stupid it is to think that an uncertain future with Evan Buckley isn't worth every second of terror it causes you."

"You don't know me as well as you think you do."

Eddie tips the bottle against his lips. Swallows. God, why hadn't Tommy just pursued the self-proclaimed straight guy for a couple weeks before he scratched the itch somewhere else and kept a friend, instead?

"Maybe." Eddie tips his head. "Maybe I do, though. Maybe in the months and months you were invited to all my mopey nights in with Buck and all the crazy crap we end up involved in at the station and all the times you couldn't shut up about him when he wasn't around and all the times I got to see you falling ass over teakettle for my best friend, I learned a fucking thing or two about Tommy Kinard." He wags his head back and forth. "Maybe."

"Is there a point to this?"

Eddie tips his eyes to his phone, and it's probably too late at this point for the suspicion to begin to creep in.

"I mostly just came to confront you about your completely off base bullshit excuses, but there's actually a pretty simple solution to at least one of your multitude of issues, so. Now we're waiting."

Tommy doesn't like the sound of that at all.

"Chris is mad at you, by the way."

It's a distraction. It's fully a - "Why is he mad at me?"

"I should actually thank you, because it's the first time he's actively talked to me in months," Eddie continues, like Tommy hadn't asked a question. "He's pissed because Buck is sad and there's literally nothing in the world that gets a rise out of the Diaz boys like sad Buck."

"You can just say you're pissed at me and go, Eddie."

"Oh I'm angry. Don't think I'm not. Mostly I'm just sad for you. You had six months to get to know Buck and never thought to yourself 'hes going to love me and it's going to hurt' until he skipped too far ahead in the program."

And that's - kind of the final straw. He's let Eddie get his licks in. He deserves it, he knows he does. Honestly it's a little cathartic to hear - to know exactly what Buck has spent his time dissecting post-Tommy. "That's all I ever thought about. Do you think I didn't know going in? I tried to put a stop to it before it even started and he just doubled down! Do you think for a second I wasn't viscously aware that I was setting myself up for -."

No. He's not gonna say it. He's not giving that to Eddie when he couldn't even give it to Ev-Buck. When he couldn't give it to Buck.

Eddie looks victorious anyway.

"And for six months you thought it was worth it."

"For six months I was too much of a coward to stop thinking about it."

Eddie drains the rest of his beer. "I'm not gonna lie. You screwed up pretty bad. Like. Astronomically bad. Giving up your location in a firefight bad."

Tommy does everything he can not to wince.

"It's salvageable, though. If you want it to be. If there's anything I know about Buck it's that second chances are his bread and butter." He's been dancing around saying anything of substance about Buck's feelings, in all of this, but the hints are there. As if the bouts of angry-depressive texts from Buck weren't clue enough.

"And what if it's not what I want?"

Eddie's eyes dart to his phone one more time. "Then you can make it a clean break in about ... three and a half minutes."

Tommy nearly tosses his beer across the room.